#Honey just came to me one one faithful day!

[simmingonthelow]

🌱 ☺️

Hi Ephy 🥺!!!!!! Thanks for the ask! 💓

🌱 Do/Can you relate to any of your sims?

welllll appearance-wise (is that a thing?) i do to Honey Flowers I guess I could say she's a physical self insert (not really personality wise though 👀💀)

She an overthinking analytical person She's all about family (Shout out to Fast X🤣) and would do anything for her own. Not a people person and would choose to interact with people very few times without purpose. It takes a long time for her to warm up to people but know that when she does she'll be stuck to you. She's loves kids and is excessively nice to kids. But adults? Um yall gotta be friends cause its gonna be forced or for necessity (The parent of said kids may have a special taking privileges, on good days). She'll be nice to people if she needs too. Even to persons that she doesn't really like (or doesn't like at all ), she'll try to be civil at least, but not on her bad days (since she won't be able to muster the enthusiasm to 'be nice').

Lines i could relate to- Honey:

"You're here talking to me……without your child…..Heck not even talking about your kid.... so tell me, why are we having this conversation 🙃/😒?"

Honey to Someone with there kid: ~In a super sweet voice~ "Hi there cutie! Don't you look adorable today 🥰😊! " To the parent: "Hello 😐."

"I'd rather slurp bugs out the mud than have a conversation with a stranger especially! when I don't need to 😤."

And partly with Shana ('s confidence mostly) She'll fight for her family (listennnnn! Y'all need to get this actress is Fast X rn 😤🤣!). She does care about what people think about her or her lifestyle. She's also very empathetic and loves to a voice of reason. She's a person that would be able to cheer you up when you're down. She loves clowning with her people too.

Lines I could relate to- Shana:

"You don't like me? Oh nooooo. I guess I have to go cry myself to sleep then 😖😑😐."

"You are appreciated! It may not seem that way but, I'm here because I like you. Stay doing you babe ༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ💖"

"I don't care if you like what I'm wearing, I'm the one wearing it 🙄😒."

This confidence is an occasional thing unlike hers though (cause i apparently do care what people think from time to time 😔).

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 Cherry Picking.

Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Summary: After your first night with Spencer, you wake up and see that he's left you two dollars and a thank-you note on your bedside table.

Words: 2,3k.

TW: lots of mentions and references to sex, but nothing completely explicit. the reader is quite dramatic and has little faith in men (literally me, sorry). SO MUCH chaos and lack of communication but happy ending. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: This idea just came to me out of the blue, and I have to say that Sex and the City has had a bit of an influence. I love the chaos, the conversations between friends, and Spencer being the best man in the world (I'm picturing him kind of like in his season four version).

♡ Enjoy! ♡

Saturday afternoon

“Two dollars?!”

Penelope's and JJ's simultaneous exclamations and surprised faces when you finished speaking were pretty much to be expected. They noticed a change in your expression and took a moment to compose themselves, as did the rest of the people in the room, who glanced curiously at your table from time to time. It was certainly a fascinating sight, three women having an animated conversation about their lives over milkshakes as if they were drinks, especially considering that one of them was pregnant and her belly looked like it was about to explode.

You didn't blame anyone for reacting that way, especially not your friends. You were still pretty shocked by what happened, especially by how thoughtless the man you'd developed feelings for and worked closely with over the past few years was. It was a unsettling to find a tip on your nightstand after one of the most memorable nights you'd ever had. You still remembered the excitement you felt when you went to Spencer's apartment yesterday to watch a movie as part of your fourth or fifth date. He seemed nervous when you started kissing more intensely, and the couch wasn't the best setting. The sensation of your body on his bed and his lips on your skin was incredible.

It was a good memory, extremely good if you took away the embarrassment of waking up the next day in his empty bed with money waiting for you, as if you had performed a service.

“Maybe there was a misunderstanding and the money was left on the table by mistake.” Jennifer spoke again in a reassuring tone after turning the matter over. “Spencer can be a little clumsy sometimes.”

You pressed your lips together in a thin line as you listened to her attempt to provide an explanation for his actions. But given their friendship, this was to be expected.

“And he was in a hurry to catch his plane and go to his mother.” Garcia added with a forced smile, trying to lift your spirits. “It all makes sense.”

Yes, it was understandable that he was leaving in a hurry because he had to catch a flight to spend his weekend off with his mother. That didn't worry you, but there was something else that was curious.

“How do you explain the thank-you note?” You asked, taking out the paper and the two dollars you'd pulled out to show them as proof from your purse.

“It was a thank you for hanging out with him, a sweet gesture.” JJ said, taking a sip of her milkshake and patting her belly.

It seemed more like a sour gesture to you, that you had been left with your dignity on the floor. As you left his apartment, you didn't know whether to cry or laugh because it sounded like a bad joke that the only man you thought was decent and for whom you allowed yourself to have feelings would do such a thing.

“My love life is going downhill.” You said.

Just then, the restaurant door opens and Emily appears. After greeting her and apologizing for her late arrival, she asks about the cause of your apparent distress. As a profiler, she was astute enough to know something was wrong just by looking at you.

“What's wrong, honey?” She started talking as soon as she sat down next to you and took a quick look at the table. “Those milkshakes look good, I want one.”

“Spencer thinks I'm a prostitute.” You spoke up without thinking, which surprised Emily and caused her to briefly lose her grip on the menu.

There was a long, awkward silence.

Perhaps you were too direct in saying something that you had been trying to ignore for your own mental health.

“Just a heads-up, we've got a baby in the room. No need to say that word!” Penelope was the first to speak, gently covering JJ's belly with her hands. “He can hear you.”

At that moment, Reid and his comments about pregnancy data at every stage came to mind. You felt a little uncomfortable because you knew it was a little unrealistic to focus on the positives at a time like this.

“Oh, I'm so sorry, baby.” You looked regretfully at your friends and spoke to Jennifer's belly, giving it a gentle caress. “Don't listen.”

“I need context, please.” Emily said confusedly, trying to understand what was going on and why you had said what you had said.

You let out a deep breath, preparing yourself to recount the story once more.

“Okay, Spencer and I made...milkshakes. Very good milkshakes, really good if you know what I mean.” You tried to explain slowly, watching your words and your friends' expressions. “I woke up when he was leaving, he gave me a kiss on my forehead and said to keep sleeping, that he had to catch his flight.”

“That's sweet, but weird to know.” Emily commented quizzically, looking at the menu intently again. “What's the part...you know?”

“Oh, when he thought I was-” You stop yourself as you see how JJ looks at you. “A pie maker.”

You could tell from their expressions that they were about to laugh at your attempts to keep the conversation friendly.

“I woke up hours later to find two dollars on the nightstand with a thank-you note.” You finished the story. “To him, I'm worth two fu...sugary dollars.”

Prentiss stared at you for several seconds, waiting for me to tell her it was a joke. Only when that didn't happen did she speak. “That sounds weird and awful, but I don't think he would do something like that on purpose. Especially you, he really likes you.”

“He likes me enough to give me two dollars.”

When you finished speaking, you experienced a moment of discomfort in your stomach as your own words took effect. You were surprised to find that on a deeper level, what had happened was causing you more pain than you had anticipated.

“That doesn't sound like Reid at all. I've known him for years, and he's not that kind of man.” Penelope said with a frown, trying to reassure you. “I'm sure it's a mix-up.”

You were looking for the same thing and hoping it was just a misunderstanding, but your previous bad experiences made you think otherwise. You'd met enough men to know that they could always be worse. What was different now was that you really liked this particular man. You really longed for him to be different from everyone else.

However, things weren't always as you'd hoped. You'd invested a lot of hope in making your fairy tale come true, and it was starting to take its toll.

“Have you had a chance to speak with him?” JJ inquired.

“He's with his mother, I won't bother him.” You replied with a strange simplicity that made your friends suspicious. “I'm fine, I've calmed down.” You added as you saw their worried faces.

“I love you, but sometimes you scare me.” Emily said, watching you drink from your smoothie as if it contained a painkiller. “It's not okay to pretend that everything's fine.”

“It's understandable to feel a bit discouraged about this. Things may seem challenging at the moment, but I believe things will improve when you discuss this with him.” Jennifer's hand gently touched yours, offering a comforting gesture.

“I'm sure everything will be fine. You have our support if you need it.” Penelope joined in with the motivational words and gave you a reassuring smile.

You took the last sip of your milkshake and leaned back in your seat for a moment before replying. “I'm fine, girls. I don't plan to lose my head over a man, I promised myself.”

They looked at you with some skepticism, but you didn't flinch. You were confident that if you were mentally prepared not to be defeated, or at least not to look defeated, you would be well prepared for the day of the meeting.

You weren't going to lose your mind over this.

Monday morning

You were definitely losing your mind, and no cup of tea or internet video that promised to do so had been able to relax you one bit. You had been cooped up in the office you shared with Penelope for several minutes, pacing in your chair while everyone in the conference room waited for information about a new case and your presence. The mere thought of having to face Reid again was making you feel pretty uneasy.

All weekend, you had been trying to reassure yourself that you were doing well, that you were not hurt or affected by what happened, that it was just one more disappointment to add to the long list you had written since you were a teenager, and that it was normal for someone with your luck. You were not a princess, you were not going to meet a prince, and you were old enough to know that.

But being in the same building as your prince turned toad was not as easy as you had hoped. You prayed that your presence would not be necessary and that the jet would soon take off to take them all away, especially him.

A few sudden knocks on the door startled you. You automatically thought it was your boss coming to scold you for being late, and your blood froze.

“I apologize for the delay, Hotch. I assure...” You spoke promptly as soon as the door opened and a male figure appeared.

But obviously, it wasn't him.

“Oh, sorry, I'm not Hotch. But hey, how are you?” Spencer smiled at you and walked toward you, looking a little nervous.

“Fine.” You replied dryly, getting up from your seat to grab your tablet and some folders to carry into the conference room.

In your mind, you had planned to make a scene as soon as you saw him and make it clear that you didn't cost just two dollars. But after thinking about it a lot, the fear of losing your job over it was greater. And now it was a mixture of that reasoning with your feeling of paralysis at actually having him in front of you.

“I...I missed you over the weekend.” He stopped you before you could walk away, gently holding your hand. The feeling alone made you stop and look at him angrily. “I thought about you a lot, too much, and I bought you something.” He let go of your hand to pull a small box out of his pocket.

“How dare you?” You blurt out, taking a step back.

He looked a little uncomfortable and seemed to be in pain. “I'm sorry if I overstepped. I didn't mean to impose. Did I cross a line? I'm so sorry, I just thought-”

“What? That you could embarrass me even more? Didn't I already go through enough?”

That's when you took out two dollars from your purse and gave it to him.

“Could I ask why this is?” Spencer was still frowning and looked just as hurt as you.

His apparent lack of understanding of the situation made you much angrier. You had thought he was probably the smartest man you had ever met in your entire life, but suddenly, in your eyes, he was an idiot.

“I'm refunding your payment, Reid.” You replied firmly, without hiding your frustration.

The confusion on his face seemed to multiply as he tried to understand. “What are you talking about? I gave you your money back.”

You tilted your head slightly to one side.

“Saturday morning, I left on the nightstand the two dollars you lent me a week ago when we bought coffee. You know I don't like being in debt.” Spencer began to explain calmly, taking a moment to gather his thoughts and present the facts in a clear and concise manner.

Oh, you do remember lending him money at some point, or rather, inviting him for coffee that he said he'd pay you back. That day when his hair was perfect in the wind, when he smiled at you and told you some interesting facts about coffee beans.

“I mentioned it when I said goodbye, but you looked so tired that I left you a thank you note in case you forgot.” He went on to explain. “A lot of studies say that you wake up to full strength at least 20 to 30 minutes after you actually open your eyes. And you still had them closed when I said goodbye.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“I...I thought you-” You fell silent as you saw the stunned look on his face. You didn't want to look crazy, so you quickly added. “I just thought wrong.”

“I'm sorry, I don't understand.” He said, a little embarrassed. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Oh, no, I just...did you bring me a gift?” You changed the subject, taking the box he had previously offered you. Inside was a necklace with a cherry blossom charm.

“Your computer wallpaper is a picture of cherry blossoms. And I saw this necklace in a store when I was walking with my mom, and I thought you might like it. But it's okay if you don't want it-” He spoke fast until you interrupted him.

“I love it, thank you.” You smiled at him and took the necklace out of the box. “Could you help me with this?”

With some trepidation and uncertainty still present, Spencer positioned himself behind you with the jewel in his hands, carefully brushed your hair aside and fastened the necklace around your neck. The sensation of his fingers brushing against your skin made you feel a slight shiver.

“Thanks.” You said as you turned around to face him. You gave him a hug, though you were a little unsure.

He returned your embrace, feeling a sense of relief that things between you were okay. “You don't have to thank me.”

“It's not about the gift. It's just a way to say thanks for being you.”

Perhaps he was your prince after all.

[artdcnaldson]

aannnyyywwaayyyyy! patrick training your ass but totally not because he has this mental image of him fucking you from behind while art gets your pussy! blame the porno he stumbled upon!

and if we're on the topic! he may have also seen where a girl held two dicks together and tried her best to suck them at the same time. not that he WANTS to be that close to art's dick, totally not the case, but he's just saying he'd be down if YOU'RE down that's all.

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: SMUT (assplay, anal sex, sex toys, general debauchery)

A/N: Your mind consistently amazes me 🩷🫡 I did NOT edit this I just blacked out while I wrote this then hit send <3

It started when you mentioned Art for the first time.

“I used to have the biggest crush on him,” you said with a grin. You’d been scrolling through Patrick’s Facebook— giving him shit for all the lame things he’d posted in the oughts (and, yeah, after). “Can’t believe that’s your friend.”

You stopped on a picture of the two of them from ‘06, posing with their doubles trophies.

“Well, if you want him that, I can set the two of you up. I’m sure he’d love to meet a groupie. Maybe you could show him just how big of a fan you really are,” he teased, nipping at the exposed skin of your throat.

You laughed and shook your head. “No! Not unless you were joining too.”

It flipped a fucking switch in him, to say the least.

Suddenly, his old-faithful porn vids, saved to his camera roll like a goddamn caveman, did nothing. He found himself scouring through any porn site he could find for threesomes, of which there were fucking plenty. And lots of ways he could imagine sharing you with Art.

You were on all fours while his cock pistoned in and out of you— back arched tantalizingly, ass rippling with each thrust. He tried to be casual about it. “Has anyone ever fucked your ass before?” Subtlety had never been a strong suit.

You’d gone all shy, hiding your face in your arms as you answered no, not yet. Yet being the operating word. He grinned, satisfied by your answer.

His thumb brushed over your rim, making your toes curl at the barest touch. You were so fucking sensitive and so fucking sweet that it would probably kill him, one day.

“You gonna let me do it someday?” He asked, lips twisted into a smirk. Your response was muffled where you hid your face. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, tugging you up slightly. “Couldn’t hear you, baby. Speak up for me.”

A whine escaped you as you nodded. “Yeah, want you to.” When he dropped his grip on your hair, your face fell back into the sheets.

He moved his thumb and spit onto your hole. You cried out as his cock bullied deep inside of your cunt— he could feel your walls clenching around him, could feel how close you were.

“Don’t be lazy, honey. Rub your clit for me, okay? I’m busy.”

You did as he said— pretty manicured nails between your thighs and rubbed at your clit as he fucked into you. His thumb circled your rim, slick with his spit as he pushed his fingertip within you and let his thumb sink into your your tight hole.

The moan that burst out of you as you came was the sexiest goddamn thing he’d ever heard. The feeling of your ass tightening around his finger as you came, feet kicking helplessly as he fucked you through it… he didn’t think he’d ever come harder than that moment.

And Patrick was a fucking degenerate— a dog with a bone— so the next time he got a chance he fucking took it.

He ate your pussy messily— making out with your cunt the same hungry way he kissed. A mess of tongue and spit that left you dizzy and begging more often than not.

Your thighs tightened, squeezing around his head the first time he let himself wander, tongue just barely teasing your ass.

“Fuck! Patrick—“ you cried out, burning hot with embarrassment and arousal from head to toe.

“Just lemme…” he trailed off, using his big hands to spread your legs for him. “Just take it, honey.”

His tongue pressed against your hole, lapping at you messily as your needy cunt spasmed around nothing, craving attention. His nose glistened with your arousal as he buried his face in you, relishing in the squeaks of pleasure you were emitting.

He sat up and grabbed blindly for the lube he kept in his bedside table— half empty and sticky. He coated his fingers in it, warming it up before his middle finger probed at your asshole.

“Relax for me, baby,” he cooed, his voice so sickeningly sweet you wanted to kick him. “Let me in.”

He watched you shakily exhale, letting your body adapt as his finger sunk into the tight heat of you. You moaned, low and breathy as he began working his finger in and out slowly.

“Fuck, there you go,” his words came out on a waver, his voice cracking slightly as he felt you tighten around his finger. “Feels good? You need more?”

You nodded quickly, meeting his gaze with a needy sort of hunger. “Mhmm, feels good,” you practically slurred. “Need more.”

The cutest fucking echo he’d ever heard.

He smiled and let his pointer finger press against your rim, stretching you as he slowly pushed in. You moaned softly, thighs falling open as you relaxed into it. He felt your body accepting the intrusion, sucking him in.

“How’s it feel?” He asked. He pressed a soft kiss to the inside of your knee.

“Full,” was all you could manage. You rocked your hips slightly, grinding against his fingers.

He grinned. “This is just two fingers, baby. How are you gonna take all of me, huh?” He grinned down at you, scissoring his fingers slightly just to watch the way your cunt clenched in response.

His thumb moved on your clit, and it took barely any attention to the nub for you to come for him, leaking slick arousal that he eagerly lapped from your neglected pussy as you squirmed beneath him.

Poor thing, you really needed both of your holes filled.

And you were so eager to let him try. A pretty little plaything whose eyes lit up at his filthiest whims.

“This is embarrassing,” you mumbled the next time it came up. You were on your hands and knees, pouting back at him as he lubed up one of your toys— a clear pink dildo that you’d used plenty before he rendered it obsolete.

He squeezed more lube onto his fingers and gingerly fucked your ass with them to get you all warmed up. It wasn’t lost on him how easy it had gotten since that first time, the way your body wanted him in any hole he could take.

“Don’t wanna hurt you, honey,” he said, watching as your cunt dripped a thin string of arousal onto the sheets as he gave a particularly deep thrust of his fingers. Jesus, you were fucking perfect. “Can’t jump straight to the real thing, you’re too delicate, baby.”

You whined, pouting even as you backed yourself against his fingers, toes curling as he added a third finger.

“Fuck, Patrick,” you gasped, fingers clawing into the sheets. He waited until you were gagging for it— pussy smeared with your own arousal, grinding back against his fingers with desperate need. He withdrew his fingers and smiled at the pathetic whimper you left out.

“‘S okay,” he cooed. He slicked up the dildo with lube once more before he pressed the tip of it against your ass. It was a stretch— beyond the three fingers Patrick had prepped you with— but you took it eagerly.

He thrust it inside slowly— inch by inch by inch until it was sheathed inside of you fully. You let out the prettiest moan, panting where your face was pressed against the sheets.

Patrick thought you’d never looked sexier— lips glossy with spit, practically drooling onto the bed. Arched up so perfectly to take whatever he could give you. He was so fucking hard he could barely think.

“How’s that?” He asked, voice breathy.

All you could manage was an eager nod— an encouragement, a plea for more. He began thrusting the toy inside of you, relishing in your pretty, fucked-out moans. Your eyes rolled back and your cunt ached with need for stimulation.

You were panting and whining with need, slick and wet down your thighs. “Need you,” you gasped, eyes shining with crocodile tears. “Wanna feel full.”

And, Jesus, he really couldn’t deny you. He thrust the toy fully inside of you, holding it there as he lined himself up with your dripping cunt.

It was nothing short of a miracle that he didn’t cum the second he bottomed out within you. You were so fucking tight that he could hardly move, wasn’t sure if he could even risk it without cumming in a pathetically short amount of time.

He brushed your hair from your eyes, found them glossy, lust-hazed. “Feels so good. So fucking tight around me. You’re so good.”

You rocked your hips back slightly, moaning at the smallest amount of friction.

“Fuck, gonna move for you, okay?” He thrust slowly, testing the waters. The moans both of you let out were pornographic. You were so wet that the sound of Patrick fucking into you made heat flood your cheeks. As you grew closer and closer, your legs gave out on you and Patrick had to hold you in place as he fucked you.

Each thrust made stars dance in your vision. You could hardly manage anything except moans of his name and cries for more. All you could do was just lie there and take it.

But he liked you like that— so needy and cockdrunk that you let yourself get used.

“Cumming—“ you cried out suddenly. Your cunt spasmed around him, squeezing like a vise. He only managed a few final thrusts before he was spilling deep inside of you.

You whimpered at the loss of him within you, then again as he eased the toy from your ass. Your body was sticky with cum, lube and sweat. Patrick laid on top of you, peppering kisses onto your back and shoulders.

“I want a bath,” you murmured lazily against the bedsheets.

“I want a million dollars,” he hummed, kissing the spot between your shoulder blades.

You laughed softly, rolling your eyes. “Fuck off.”

ME? Writing ANAL??? Less likely than you think!!! But anything for my pookie wookie 🫶🩷

[buckyalpine]

pleaseee idk if uve done this yet but can u do a fic where bucky is so afraid to be close with u. Then one faithful day an agent starts flirting with u and bucky loses it like he doesn’t understand this feeling, he gets all hot headed and all he knows is he wants u all for himself. AND SHIT GETS ALL HOT N STEAMYYYY. this was inspired by the song close by nick jonas

I. Love. This. 

18+ Jealously, possessiveness, desperate rough sex, sweet sex, horny Bucky got out of his cage. 

First of all, he really doesn't even understand the feeling of liking someone (he doesn't like most people anyway). He's been on dates. Plenty of them actually and they were all fine. Just fine. He never cared about seeing them again, figuring it was a result of how his brain was fried over and over again.

Then you came along. He doesn't understand a damn thing that's happening to him. When you smile, his heart beats a little faster. When you laugh or talk to him, his tongue stops working and all he can do is blush. When you say his name, he swears his body heat shoots up. 

This is the first time he's felt anything like this after decades.

He swore to himself it was nothing, sure you were adorable, sweet, beautiful but that was it. You were so kind to him, your voice was soothing like honey, It didn't matter that you were gorgeous, sexy, such a doll-

What was he doing.

The intensity of what he felt scared him. He didn't want to get close to you and it wasn't like he had feelings for you, something was just going on with him. It'd go away eventually. He told himself that every single day. He continued to keep his distance from you, figuring all these feelings would disappear soon.

However.

Tonight was something else. He wasn't feeling a light pitter patter in his heart. No. It was raging and thumping. His nostrils flared each time he looked over and he didn't even know why. He had 0 reason to feel like this but it was all happening on its own. 

"Fucks wrong with you" Sam snorted, watching Bucky's jaw clench, his eyes trained on the new agent that was caressing your arm while you both sat at the bar. His ears felt hot the second the agent leaned over to whisper in your ear, Bucky saw red. Whatever he was feeling was at another level, it wasn’t a cute little blush on his cheeks, his heart wasn’t lightly racing. Seeing another man try to touch what he already wanted drove him up the wall. 

You were his. 

What-

He shook his head at the rogue thought that kept intruding his mind, but only more followed.

He wanted you. 

All to himself.

He wanted every part of you, you’re pretty sweet face, soft voice, gorgeous body. 

All to himself. 

No other thoughts occupied his brain anymore, all logic out the door, he didn’t give a fuck who was trying to get near you, that was no concern of his. His body felt hot, he couldn’t just sit and watch anymore. He stalked over to the bar, disregarding the agent that was desperately flirting with you, he was going to take you and claim you. 

“James!” You gasped, feeling the cool metal of his hand grasp your wrist, tugging you off the stool, dragging you through the crowd and up to the hall of your rooms. “James, what are you-

Before you could finish speaking, he cut you off, caging you against the wall, his hands on either side of your head. 

"I want you" His chest rumbled against yours, pressing you further against wall. You squeaked, gasping when you felt his hands trail onto your waist, his nose nudging against your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your perfume. “Now”

"If you don't tell me to stop, I won't control myself" That was the best warning he was able to muster, using all of his will power not to rub his erection on you. You nearly felt light headed, the scent of his cologne evading your senses, his body heat warming your skin. He smelled so fucking good, his beard rubbing against your skin causing shivers to run down your spine. 

“James, I-

“Tell me to stop” He growled, his hands gripping your waist tighter. “s’getting harder for me to keep my hands to myself baby” 

“Don’t stop” You whimpered, moaning when he smashed his lips onto yours, walking you back to his room without breaking your lips apart. He kicked the door closed, nipping and kissing your skin, sucking dark bruises onto your neck until the back of your legs hit the edge of his bed. 

He panted, his forehead resting on yours, trying to collect himself, his hips rutting against your core causing your dress to ride up. You couldn't hold back your moans, feeling his length press and rub onto your clit, spreading your legs further and wrapping your thighs around his waist. 

“You gonna let me have you?” He mumbled against your lips, groaning when you tugged at his shirt. His mind was all over the place, usually when it came to you, he thought of softness and sweetness. After seeing you tonight, he needed you to be covered in him, filled with him, fucking smell like him. “Baby, m’telling you, if you don’t tell me to stop, m’gonna fucking ruin you” 

“Don’t hold back James”

That was all he had to hear. 

He stripped his clothes off, throwing them aside, giving his cock a few tugs before pulling you up to take your dress off. 

“I need you naked baby, wanna see all of you” He didn’t waste any time pulling the straps down, along with your tiny panties, throwing it aside before crawling on top of you. He trailed kisses down your body, licking and nipping your skin, smirking each time you whimpered, his arms spreading your legs apart. You felt your body heat up, wanting to cover yourself up but he wasn’t having any of that. He spread them further apart, loving the way you squirmed, biting your lip while he nearly drooled at the sight of your dripping cunt. 

“S’pretty baby” He looked mesmerized, licking his lips, “So wet” 

“Jamess” You whined, your thighs flinching under his hold, wanting to close your legs so badly but he held them apart firmly, tossing them over his shoulders. 

“All shy for me pretty baby?” He groaned at your perfect scent, his cock leaking onto the sheets. His fingers spread your pussy apart, getting the perfect view of your needy clit and fluttering entrance. He licked a thick stripe through your folds, lapping your wetness before getting to his absolutely favorite part. He started off with soft kisses onto your clit, his cock growing harder with your whiny moans needing more. His lips sealed around your sensitive nub, suckling you making you cry out, grabbing his hair, back arching off the bed. He moaned around your clit, softly sucking while grinding his cock against the mattress, his hands digging into your thigs.

“You taste-” He sucked your clit again, his eyes rolling back “So sweet baby” He let his tongue move in circles, flicking and teasing it repeatedly, loving the way you gushed and soaked his beard. “Go a head, cum on my face doll” He pushed two fingers in you, pumping and curling them to stroke that spongy spot making you cry out. “Cum baby, fucking cum, soak my face doll”

“JAMESJAMESFUCK-” Your thighs closed on his head, tugging his hair making him groan, his balls throbbing as he felt your juices soak his face further. He kissed your sensitive clit before crawling on top of you, stroking his cock, rubbing it through your wetness.  

“Can’t wait any longer, need to be inside you” You brought your legs to wrap around you, your arms gripping onto his tight biceps, waiting for him to stretch you. You moaned, feeling his cock nudge against your entrance, his thick swollen tip making your stomach flutter. 

“Fuck James” You cried out as he started to fill you inch by inch, his hands fisting the sheets already, your pussy clenching around him. “Fuck me baby” Your nails dug into his shoulders making him groan. He didn’t bother with warming you up first, bringing his knees up slightly, and fucking you hard and fast without holding back, his balls slapping your ass with each stroke. 

“I want you” He grunted, pushing his cock in as deep as it would go with each thrust, desperate to be all the way inside you. “Fuck, I want you” He let his body fall onto you, legs nearly slipping against the sheets, his hips rocking and grinding against you while he gripped onto your wrist with one hand, the other grabbing onto the head board. 

“You have me baby” You cupped his cheeks, stroking his face while he groaned, fucking you harder. 

“Not enough, fuck, I want you all to myself, wanna be the only one to have you like this, only one to touch you, fuck you, make love to you” He wrapped his arms around your body, panting against your neck, his cock starting to twitch. 

“You already do Bucky” You kissed his lips, rubbing yours hands all over his body, his skin hot, “M’all yours baby, just yours” 

“Yeah?” He grunted, bringing his knee up to fuck you even deeper making you scream, his cock swelling, balls growing heavy. “You’re mine?”

“FUCK JAMES I-” You couldn’t formulate words, your legs shaking as he slammed into you, “YOUR COCK-S’DEEP” You claws onto his back, your juices squirting and dripping onto the sheets, your pussy clenching around him. 

“C’mon baby, I want your cum” He moaned, fucking you harder, desperate for you to make a mess all over his bed, “Give me your cum angel, cream on my dick, it’s your cock baby, go on, make a mess on it baby, make a mess on this cock” 

“OH GOD FUCKKK” You sobbed, feeling your orgasm rip through you, “pleasepleaseplease- “ You let out a silent scream and he continued to fuck you through your high. 

“That’s it sweetheart, look baby” Bucky cupping the back of your head, making you look at where you were both connected, his cock nearly white covered in your slick. “My cock’s all covered in your cum baby, would stroke myself with your cum if I could” 

You gave him a dazed look, a smirk flashing across his face, pulling out of you for a moment, moving up so his cock was hovering above your face. 

“See what a mess you made on me baby?” He wrapped around his soaked cock, giving himself long slow strokes, moaning at how wet and silky his length felt covered in your slick. “Feel’s so fuckin’ good baby, I’d be touching myself way more if it always felt this good” He threw his head back, letting his metal hand come down to cup his balls, moaning. You sat up slightly, pulling his cock into your mouth, catching him off guard.

“OH Shittt- He nearly came on the spot, feeling your plush lips wrap around the head of his cock, your tongue working in circles. “My hungry greedy baby” He smirked, letting you lick the tip of his cock clean before pulling you off” I wanna cum inside you baby, s’too sensitive right now” 

He pushed his cock back inside you, moaning at the way you wrapped your body around him, kissing his skin, cupping his face, your eyes glassy and hazy. 

“Can feel your cock throbbing baby” You cooed, kissing his nose, licking up his neck, “Feel’s so good Bucky, cum in me baby, let me feel you” His pace grew sloppy, clinging onto you, he’s starved his orgasm for as long as he could. 

“Oh fuck, you’re all mine, you belong to me baby, not gonna ever let you go” He grew more desperate, his cock throbbing, your tight heat fluttering and clenching around him. “I’m gonna cum” 

“Cum for me Bucky”

“M’gonna cum so fucking hard for you angel-I-SHIT-I-M FUCK M’ cumminggg” He moaned into your neck, giving you three hard thrusts, spilling his load into you. “This is all for you baby, all just for you” He couldn't help himself, nearly rolling around the bed with you, rutting his softening cock into your soaked cunt, making sure he gave you every single drop. “S’all for you sweet girl” 

You both laid down, wrapped in the sheets, sweating and panting, bodies still convulsing with post orgasmic shocks. You gasped, feeling his arm wrap around your waist pulling you over to cuddle, his fingers tracing shapes onto your skin. 

“Y/n?” You blinked, looking up to meet his soft blue eyes looking down at you, his hand cupping your cheek. “I meant what I said baby, I want you all to myself”

“You-you like me?” You whispered, your heart soaring. You’d liked Bucky for ages but you were certain he wouldn’t be interested. You were prepared for him to kick you out at the end of the night, indulging in a one night fantasy if that was all you could get. But now..

“You’re such a darling baby, how can you expect me not to fall for you” He brought you closer to kiss your lips, biting his lip nervously, wondering if you wanted that with him, “If you don’t feel the same, it’s okay I-

You cut him off, kissing his deeply, only pulling away for air. 

“You promise?”

“I promise baby doll” He nodded, cradling your body to his, the soft pitter patter returning, and cheeks blushing. “M’all yours doll” 

Tags: @glxwingrxse  @hungryyeyess  @sebsgirl71479  @beabutterfly987  @teambarnes72  @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass  @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan  @buggy14  @whimsyplaty92  @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec   @pono-pura-vida   @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z  @elle14-blog1 @justsebstan @littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog  @happyt0exist   @emmabarnes  @bethyruth @matchat3a  @cjand10   @getwellsoontana  @cherryschaos   @lokisasgardianvampirequeen  @ashenc-blog  @buckybarnessimpp   @potatothots  @goldylions  @high-functioning-lokipath @morganemorganite-blog  @kingfleury   @peaches1958   @spiderman-stilinski   @peaceinourtime82  @gublur   @wintersmelodie @geeky-politics-46   @lolawassad  @almosttoopizza   @a-poor-gryffindork @alternativeprincess   @buckycallsmeaslut    @kamaria-sweet-writes  @charmedbysarge    @xnorthstar3x  @kryoee7 @alina02  @gh0stgurl    @polishprincess999 @jessybarnes @alltheficsiwant @chemtrails-club  @eralen   @carrotfantasimp

[darcydarlingdabbles]

Born to Survive (2/2)

part 2 of Astarion's Romance scene in act 1

part 1 link

Astarion x f!Tav (tiefling), Canon Compliant, Explicit af

4.2k

//This one tried to kill me. Smut, angst, comfort, oh my. Game accurate dialogue up to a point. CW: Good in bed, bad at emotions. Unhealthy...everything when it comes to sex/emotions. Bad communication?? But happy ending. This is the night with Tav that changes everything for Astarion.// Song Rec: The Death of Peace of Mind by Bad Omens

Astarion’s keen ears caught the moment Tav entered the moonlit clearing.

The vampire spawn felt the familiar prickling anticipation of the game he was about to play—a dance of manipulation and survival, dressed up in the silvery light. Where he could slip into the role he was created play. The seductive predator, dangerous and irresistible.

Yet, not so much as to forfeit her faith in him.

An unfamiliar flutter stirred within the pale elf. She was just another pawn in his web. Nothing was different just because he knew her name. And he should not be secretly happy that she would survive to see the sun rise tomorrow.

Astarion ignored the rush of his long since dead heart. This was self preservation; nothing more.

This yearning for anything else was dangerous as putting a stake in her hands.

He could not afford to care how she felt about him, beyond whether or not she would protect him.

Astarion removed his jacket methodically, folding it with deliberate care. As he pulled at the laces of his white shirt, memories came unbidden—clothing pooled around ankles, ripped away from his body, discarded like they weren’t all he had to his name.

Cazador’s mocking voice sneered in his mind. Reminding him of his place. On his knees. On his back. All he was good for.

He draped his folded shirt over a low branch, silencing the heartless laugh echoing in his memory as he slid on the mask he’d donned for centuries.

Astarion’s undead heart might as well b e made of stone. There was nothing left of him but the charm he cast.

“There you are.” Astarion greeted with the hint of a purr in his voice as he stepped from behind a towering oak with a smile already curving his lips.

He let his gaze rake appreciatively over Tav’s form, gratified when her eyes darted from his face to drink in his bared chest and down his body.

The blush on her cheeks when she was caught was just…delicious.

“I’ve been waiting, waiting since the moment I set eyes on you,” Astarion soothed, gliding closer. The moonlight caressed his alabaster skin, lending him an ethereal, almost ghostly beauty. 

At least, he hoped that was how he appeared, striking and seductive in the silver glow.

His prowl came to a stop merely inches from Tav, catching the hitch in her breath as she still hadn’t spoken. Thrilling him with how utterly captivated she was.

“Waiting…to have you.” he finished in a silken murmur, reaching a delicate hand to trail his cool fingers over her flushed cheek.

Suddenly, the tiefling’s eyes snapped up to meet his. Her body reanimated as she shifted from foot to foot with a slash of her tail.

“You sure, Astarion?” Tav asked, Her voice was a maddeningly gentle whisper, her brow creased with a vexing worry.

Why did she have to make this so damn difficult? Couldn’t she just enjoy what they both clearly wanted?

Instead Tav had to ask those weighted words, like she was trying disarm his every charm.

No.

He couldn’t let her pry her way under his flirtatious mask. Whatever broken, battered creature cowered behind his facade could not see the light of day. Astarion had a role to play. The lover Tav would do anything to protect.

His smile never wavered as he steered her away from anything more meaningful than their little dance now, until bairly a hair’s breadth separated their bodies.

“Don’t I have you?” he said with honey in his voice and want in his crimson eyes. “You’re here…and I don’t think you want to talk.”

Knowing her gaze was intent on him, Astarion let his focus drift down the curves of her body—taking in the way her tiefling tail betrayed her. Despite the worry on her brow, Tav’s arrant appendage curled at the tip in obvious interest.

Astarion’s charms were eroding even the hero’s defenses, as they should.

Tav’s full lips parted, and before she could voice another irritatingly perceptive question, Astarion wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling their bodies flush at last.

“I think you want to be known…to be tasted.” His breath ghosted across her skin.

Slowly, giving her time to pull away, he raised a hand to cup her cheek, caressing the fading puncture marks with his thumb.

Finally, Tav shivered at his touch. Her slit pupils went wide, and her tail curled fully to the small of her back. Just when he was about to taste her lips for the first time…she had to open her mouth.

“What do you want, Astarion?”

In his wretchedly long mockery of a life, no one had ever asked him that. No lover. No target. And certainly no master.

Why did Tav threaten to crack his facade with every damn word she said.

What did he want? Blood. Protection. Freedom. Safety.

Astarion sliced that thread before either of them could follow it too closely.

The vampire turned Tav’s head, breaking that too honest gaze, letting his lips brush her pointed ear instead. “What do any of us want? Pleasure. Yours, mine, our collective ecstasy.” He let each word drip with promise.

Her resistance finally melted away.

A smile graced that sweet mouth and her lithe form leaned into his. She reached for him at last, her hands coming to rest on his waist, and he could nearly sigh as the heat of her skin seeped into his perpetual chill.

Her touch was still too tentative for him.

Astarion captured her wrists in his long fingers, drawing her hands up along the sculpted planes of his chest to loop around his neck, ducking his head to tease his lips over hers. "

“That’s it. That’s what you want, isn’t it…to lose yourself in me?”

He wasn’t asking. It was what they always wanted. His touch. His attention. His body. All he was good for.

“Astarion…”

The vampire nearly gloated when she sighed his name—the noble tone was so weak under the want.

At last, Astarion had dragged the honorable Tav down to his level of depravity.

Her pulse thrummed wildly under his palms, betraying her at last. How badly she must want him. How he’d stripped away her suspicion and caution until only need remained.

“I thought so.” He purred with pure gratification.

Tav leaned up on her toes, pressing through the hands cupping her face, and closing the distance between their mouths.

Astarion had kissed countless lips in his time. Thousands of fleeting moments, rushed, careless, clashing, teeth and tongues.

Tav’s kiss was nothing like that.

It was warm, reverent in a way Astarion knew he did not deserve, even as he slid easily into the motions. Trying to bury her tenderness in wanton desire.

But then, Tav leaned into his palm, nuzzling her cheek into his hand, pointed fingers threading through his.

And it was such an artless, intimate gesture that suddenly threatened to choke him.

Desperate to quash this unnamed feeling before it could take root—Astarion claimed Tav’s mouth in a searing kiss. Biting her bottom lip to banish any sweetness she gave.

…

Tav could feel her pulse fluttering in her ears as Astarion caressed her every curve with effortless grace. His lips felt like they were everywhere, and his skilled tongue stoked a delicious heat within the tiefling.

She was lost to every delicate touch. His nimble fingers deftly undid the laces of her bodice, unhooking the fastenings of her trousers.

Tav hardly noticed until he was pulling her to step out of the puddle of her clothes to be pulled into the hard line of his body against hers.

His elegance was unmatched to any lover she’d had. They hardly needed to exchange—and Astarion seemed disinclined to speak at all as he lavished attention down her neck and her collarbones with his perfect mouth.

Tav was desperate. Not just for more skin-tingling touches, but to return some of the bliss he bestowed on her.

Her fingers grasped at Astarion’s silken hair, catching him for a moment so she could leave her own kisses along the chiseled line of his jaw, down the pale column of his neck.

The vampire’s throat went motionless under her mouth the lower she went. Of course, she didn’t expect to feel a fluttering pulse, but it was like he’d forgotten to breathe. Had passion erased his pretense of needing air?

Tav just wondered this as her lips reached the twin scars on his neck—and Astarion went rigid.

Her heart seized.

She overstepped, maybe reminded him of his painful past, and she had to apologize.

The words were already on her tongue, when he caught her by the chin and pulled her back.

“As much as I enjoy your affections, darling,” he purred, ruby eyes gleaming wickedly, “I have much better plans for that sweet mouth of yours.”

Then he was kissing her again, deeply, ardently. Tav whined as the points of his fangs grazed her bottom lip, sending licks of fire through her veins. He knew exactly what he was doing as he ravished her, and  her awkwardness forgotten as he tried to drown her in arousal.

Nothing existed but Astarion’s clever hands, his sinful lips, and the delicious ache building between her thighs.

The awkwardness of the moment was forgotten as she clung to him. Nothing compared to the intensity of being the focus of Astarions attention. She felt ravished before he even stooped to wrap her legs around his waist, but he barely broke their kiss.

Tav eagerly complied, locking her arms around his shoulders, careful of his neck, though curling her quivering tail around his torso too.

Astarion pressed her into the rough bark of a nearby tree, his hands digging possessively into her thighs.

She couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her. She was giddy with arousal, slicker still as she felt the hard length of his cock just press against her.

Gods, she needed him inside her.

“Playful little tiefling.” Astarion murmured appreciatively, his voice like dark velvet against her ear.

Tav giggled again, giving a deliberate twitch of her tail. “Well, biting is basically foreplay for my kind,” she teased, fingers threading through his curls, careful of the points of her nails as she murmured against his lips. “I shoulda warned ya, before that first little nibble by the campfire.”

If their bodies weren't so closely interlaced, their noses gently grazing each other as Astarion teasingly ground his hips into hers, stirring her eagerness for the forthcoming fervor, she may have missed the swift flicker of emotion that danced across Astarion's handsome face.

Uncertainty. Discomfort even…at being bitten? That made sense he would be cautious of the reminder—but the expression was gone in a blink. Replaced with a roguish grin.

“Is that so? Then you’ve already surrendered yourself to me.”

Oh, how damn cocky could a man be?

Sure, he was turning her to a mess just rutting against her. But Tav arched a brow. “I can’t just…let you win.”

The tiefling simpered, even as she tilted her head to the side, baring the tantalizing line of her throat. Showing off the fading bite.

That bright ruby gaze darkened, rivited, zeroed in on her fluttering pulse. He leaned in, fangs bared, as she slid her tail away from him.

In flick of her tail, Tav leveraged herself off of the tree, sending them both tumbling into the soft grass.

She landed atop him, legs caging his hips, grinning at his startled expression.

“Gotcha.”

To Tav’s surprise and delight, a warm and genuine laugh burst from Astarion’s lips. His eyes sparkled with an inner light, bright and unreserved in a way she’d never seen from him before. Tav was transfixed by just the glimpse of raw, unguarded emotion on his face.

The spell couldn’t last forever.

Astarion’s hands seized her hips, using his vampiric strength and speed to flip Tav onto her back, pinning her into the grass.

Her air escaped in a huff as he captured her wrists and pressed them into the ground, rendering her wonderfully helpless.

“Alright, alright, I yield!” Tav laughed breathlessly, squirming only half-heartedly in his stone grip. “You win.”

Still smiling, she tipped her head back, baring her throat in surrender—eliciting a low, greedy sound from Astarion. This time, he did not hesitate.

Hot, stinging pleasure burst through her blood as the vampire’s fangs sank into her skin. She shivered, happily helpless, under the icy ecstasy of his bite. His body leaned heavily and perfectly into the cradle of hers.

His long fingers came around to cushion her head, just as the first night he fed from her. Tav hardly noticed when Astarion released her wrists, other than she could dreamily slide her fingers into his white curls. On instinct, she brushed the pads of her thumbs along the tender points of his ears.

Astarion startled in her hold.

A blissful sound echoed against her throat, and the twin points of pain disappeared as his focus wavered. He pulled back from her, crimson lingering on his lips.

“Elves and their ears.” Tav answered his unasked question, repeating the gentle stroke to prove her point, gratified when he was the one to give a shudder. “Shall I stop?”

“Don’t you dare,” Astarion growled playfully, before diving back down to reclaim her lips. She teased his gorgeous ears as long as he would allow, before he seemed to remember himself—and pulled back with a darker gaze.

“Let me show you my favorite trick.” He purred, kissing a trail down her heated body. Lavishing attention on her breasts before settling between her thighs like he belonged there.

His strong, elegant hands curled under her hips, lifting her soaking folds to his wickedly talented tongue.

The first stroke across her clit had Tav arching with a cry, sparks igniting behind her eyelids. Astarion was relentless, laving and suckling with single-minded focus, devouring her pussy like he hungered for nothing else. His clever fingers slid into her, thrusting and curling with unerring accuracy.

He was overwhelming in the most delightful way.

“Astarion,” Tav gasped, half a sob in her throat. Her fingers tangled in his hair. Pleasure was building inside her like a cresting wave until she thought she might shatter from it. 

Just as the peak crashed over her, Tav’s tail curled adoringly around Astarion’s arm, the spaded tip digging into his bicep. Astarion groaned against her, the sound reverberating through her pussy—until she was trembling in the grass.

“Darling…I am not finished with you yet.” his breath was panting against his thigh, his lips shining with her slick in the moonlight.

His eyes burned into hers as he lowered his mouth back to her, drawing a feral whimper from her mouth. He worked her through the aftershocks with his lips and mouth and the edge of his teeth—then built her back up again, drawing every ounce of pleasure from the tiefling’s body until she was left boneless and blissed out.

By the time Tav found her voice again, she’d lost count of how many times he’d made her come. 

“Astarion,” she rasped. “Please. I need you.”

In a flash, he was over her, the blunt head of his cock nudging against her entrance. 

“I thought you’d never ask,” he said with that damnable roguish grin.

Then he was sliding into her, hard and thick and perfect, and Tav could only hang on as he took her apart all over again. She was so sensitive, the pleasure bordering on pain, that it only took a few deep strokes before she was clenching around him, keening her release.

Astarion swallowed the sound with his mouth, kissing her deeply as he continued to move within her. Tav felt owned, treasured, utterly consumed by the brilliant creature in her arms. In that moment, she would have happily let him devour her whole.

…

Astarion thrust into her with smooth, measured strokes, the perfect rhythm to draw out her satisfaction. His face was buried in the crook of her neck as he murmured filthy praises against her skin, just as he was supposed to.

“You are so terribly intoxicating, my love. So perfectly wrapped around me. Like you were made just to undo me.”

Tav was a mess under him, her careful words lost to the sensation of him moving inside her. Her limbs tangled around him and she tried to pull him down for a kiss.

Astarion evaded her lips, lavishing attention on her throat instead. Letting his mind slip away again.

It wasn’t long before she was clenching around him again, shuddering through another intense climax. Astarion worked her through it, then gradually slowed his pace. When Tav finally resurfaced, sated and pliant in his arms.

Just where he needed her to be.

“Fuck,” she sighed, pressing the heel of her palm over her eyes as she still caught her breath. He slid from her still quivering body, though she still clung to him with her curled tail.

“I shall take that as a compliment.” He chuckled at her side, pressing his lips to the skin before her ear.

“Astarion, did you…?”

The vampire tensed almost imperceptibly before pulling back to look at her, a practiced smile curving his lips. 

“I was, concentrating…you had me captivated, darling.” He glossed over. It was easy to ignore his own ache, and most of his conquests were happy to let him. “Brilliant, beautiful thing you are.”

Astarion eased, pressing her back into the grass. He sat up, resting on his bent knee, as he let himself detachment from the moment.

Tav's frown caught his attention as she studied him from where she was still laid back in the moonlit grass. “Hey, is everything okay? I want to make you feel good, too.”

Her words took him by surprise. Make him feel good? That simply didn’t factor into any script he played in someone else’s bed.

His mouth opened and closed in silent confusion before he shook off the disorientation.

"I...no, everything’s fine. Wonderful, in fact. You’ve been perfect, darling," he responded smoothly. Astarion couldn’t pull his mask into place. Weak, vulnerable, aching—confused as to what he should do next.

But there was no dungeon to draw her towards. No master to turn her over to. Tav was not a target. What was he meant to do?

Astarion laid back, wondering if he should feign exhaustion. Until Tav fell asleep and he could slip away.

With a gentle smile, and a little unsteady as she rose, Tav slid her hands up Astarion’s chest to frame his face. “Let me concentrate on you now,” she murmured, shifting until she was straddling his hips again.

He clung to her waist on instinct, but didn’t grip hard enough to stop her from moving over him.

“Is that alright, Astarion?”

She kept saying his name, drawing his eyes back to hers, to the want in hers that was more than want.

The warmth was overwhelming.

“Yes,” He agreed, hearing his own breathless assent. Telling himself it was just to be relieved of that adoring look in her eyes.

Tav drew him along her palm, sinking down on his hardness inch by heavenly inch. 

Astarion gasped gently. For once, he seemed at a loss for words, ruby eyes wide and locked on hers as she began to move.

Undulating slowly, Tav leaned in to capture his lips, kissing him deeply, reverently. 

His own mouth was…hesitant. The way she kissed him, the way she kissed, the way she moved, dragged that unbidden yearning from somewhere deep inside him.

Like his first taste of her neck, something about this felt forbidden. Too rich for his blood.

But then Astarion was kissing Tav back feverishly, sitting up to tangle one hand in her hair to hold her close. Like he was starving all over again.

Tav kept the pace languid, letting Astarion savor every slide and press, her pussy quivering around him still. He’d thought he’d worn her out so thoroughly—but she persisted.

She peppered kisses across his angular cheekbones, the corner of his mouth, his temples. Astarion shuddered beneath her, a soft whimper escaping him as she rolled her hips just so.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Tav crooned. “Just feel. Let go for me.”

Time seemed to slip from him yet again—but he felt every breath against his lips, her forehead pressed to his with agonizing sweetness. Her fingers curled into the hair at the base of his neck, and he clung to her in turn.

Astarion felt his body stiffen involuntarily, a flicker of apprehension. His armor trying to snap back into place, one last ditch attempt to wall him off.

“Tav…” his voice was a broken plea.

Her relentless warmth ceased every vulnerability in him. Her arms wrapped around him, shielding out the rest of the world, the rest of his thoughts.

Those damnable eyes with unwavering affection as they locked onto his.

"I've got you," Tav murmured with a fervor that echoed through him. "You're so good, Astarion."

Her words sent him spiraling into the abyss with a ragged gasp as his climax washed over him, spilling deep within her.

Astarion could feel her arms drawing him closer, her fingers threading through his curls and whispering praises and reassurances that seeped into his dead marrow.

He clung to her desperately, hiding himself in the crook of her neck as he was the one to tremble.

In this moment, stripped bare of all pretenses and disguises he wore. All Astarion could do was cling tighter to Tav, hoping that she could feel even a sliver of the affection and reverence that burned within him.

Astarion watched her as she lay back, unable to rip his eyes away or compose his face in to something prettier.

She laughed breathlessly, but the elf remained still, waiting. Bracing himself for the inevitable withdrawal, for her warmth to leave him bereft and alone once more.

That part of the script was surely still intact.

They took their pleasure, then cast him aside. Or worse.

But Tav did neither.

She nestled close, resting her head on his chest with a contented sigh. Astarion glanced down at her, watching the way her fingers idly traced invisible patterns on his cool skin. The casual intimacy of it made his throat tighten.

After a moment, Tav lifted her gaze to his, a playful smile curving her kiss-swollen lips. “Not much for cuddling after?” she teased gently, but she was already lifting herself off of him.

Astarion huffed a laugh, hoping it masked the confused tangle of emotions her tenderness evoked. “It’s not exactly my forte.” 

He should be using his glib charm to get them back to camp, saying they should get some sleep. But with Tav...he hesitated. Loath to break this fragile, unfamiliar spell between them. 

As if sensing his inner turmoil, Tav shifted to lay her head in the grass beside him, relinquishing her claim on his space.

But as her warmth and weight left him, Astarion felt strangely bereft. Unmoored. His hand darted out to catch hers, lacing their fingers together as he turned to face her.

Tav’s ever-radiant smile dawned across her face. She squeezed his hand gently, like it was the most precious thing she’d ever held. “This okay?” she asked softly.

Slowly, deliberately, she brought his knuckles to her lips, pressing a lingering kiss to the back of his hand. Like he was the prey she feared startling.

Tav slid their joined hands up to rest over Astarion’s still heart, her expression open and tender in a way that made his breath catch.

Astarion swallowed hard to gain even a tenuous control. “More than,” he managed, voice rough with everything he couldn’t quite say.

Tav smiled at him, and those bright eyes held nothing—no guile, no ulterior motive. Only affection and a hint of something that looked dangerously close to…adoration.

It terrified him even as some long-dormant part of his soul ached for more.

“Good,” he breathed at last, barely recognizing his own voice.

As he slid his arm around Tav’s shoulders, pulling her back to his chest beneath the star-strewn sky, a sudden realization hit him with the force of a charging bulette.

In all his long existence, he had never spent the night with a lover. Had never wanted to. But now, with Tav a warm, trusting weight in his arms, he found himself hoping desperately that this wouldn’t be the last time.

There would be time to figure this out later, he told himself. To untangle the confusing snarl of warmth and want and unspoken yearning twisting beneath his ribs. 

And yet, as Tav’s breathing gradually slowed and deepened with the onset of sleep, Astarion discovered that there was nowhere in all the realms he’d rather be.

Perhaps, just this once, he could let himself have this. Could dare to imagine a future beyond mere survival.

[fantasy-relax]

Sweet Alpha Dangerous Omega

Part 16

Cassandra hasn't moved a muscle since the Alpha ran off, if she didn't know she'd swear she was frozen to the ground.

“Go get Mother” Bela orders and Daniela obeys without a word.

This is her fault; she left the cage door open.

She just wanted to cheer Cassandra up.

And now she ruined everything.

She opens the door to her mother's room, who stands up immediately with fury in her eyes that soon fades when she recognizes her.

“Did you have another nightmare, dear?”

She wished it was just a nightmare, but she knew she was awake, it was too warm to be one.

“It's all my fault mom” She says on the verge of tears.

“Honey, what's hap-”

*Daniela bring Mother! I can't stop Cassandra! *

This is no time to cry “Follow me!”

Her mother gets up from the bed quickly, her gaze worried and full of questions.

—----

She approached her sister cautiously, she had no idea how Cassandra would react when she came out of her stupor, but she knew that her emotions would be out of control and to avoid further damage she had to calm her down.

Bela knew that this day would come, the day when the blindfold on your eyes would be removed and you would face the reality you ignored, Cassandra's punishment protected you from being a witness to her violence, but it was only a matter of time before you discovered the darkest side of her family.

However, she planned to soften the blow, give you examples of different human biologies, diets and food restrictions to help you understand, to comprehend the need they had to consume human flesh and blood, then she would give you more information about the most cruel and inhuman acts that occurred in the castle, as well as their reasons for carrying them out. Little by little, precisely to avoid this type of reaction. No matter how much you loved her sister, this kind of information was hard to digest, so she had kept it hidden as best she could. She had talked to Daniela who agreed to follow her example with only a few complaints, and Cassandra, consciously or unconsciously, had also avoided showing that side.

But now you had found out the hard way.

Bela had faith in you but even they didn't take the news about their new physiology well either. They screamed, cried, and cursed at Mother's feet for months. It took them years to finally accept their new life.

They needed time and space.

And that's what you need too.

Afterall, It was impossible that your devotion would completely fade away in just a few seconds.

You loved her sister, and you would never leave her.

Right?

Moving in front of her sister, Bela bit her lips to control herself.

Cassandra's expression broke her heart, her sister who refused to show the slightest weakness had a faraway look, her hands were shaking, but the worst was the aroma that came from her.

Fear, sadness, anguish.

She took a deep breath to calm down, Cassandra needed her help, she couldn't let her emotions affect her sister's delicate state more.

“Cassand-

The younger girl released a wave of her aroma so strong that it made her stagger, shaking her head to concentrate she tried to call her sister once again.

But in the blink of an eye Cassandra had crossed to the other side of the hallway

.----------

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

“Cassandra!”

No, no.

“Stop!”

No, no, no.

“Cassandra!”

No, no, no, no.

“Leave her alone!”

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

“Cassandra Andreea Dimitrescu, stop this instant!”

The imposing figure of her mother along with a strong wave of her scent force her to stop her pursuit, her body reforms, but there are still flies buzzing and flying frantically around her. Despite not needing to breathe she feels like she is short of air, she is taking gulps of air that serve no purpose, why? Why did you run away? She would never hurt you, despite her behavior she never threw the easels directly at you, despite her threats she never cut or hit you, so why?

“Why?”

“Because she was never a witness to our feeding Cassandra” Bela is in front of her, her hands do not leave her field of vision “I kept that part hidden in class and outside of it, Daniela too and you did it too”

In all your stay have you never come across their mouths full of blood? In the middle of a hunt or a punishment?

…It’s true.

You spend most of your time working in the workshop, your trips are restricted to your room, kitchen, library and Bela’s office, in addition to trips to the forest which are only focused on collecting animal meat; your cell in the dungeon was one of the most isolated, you did not see the other prisoners. Dorothea does not let anyone who is not from her team into the kitchen when food is being prepared for them, despite the friendship she has with you she would never break that rule, the staff has a different meal schedule because of this.

It is your first time seeing a scene like this, a rather grotesque one to be honest.

“It took us some time to assimilate it and it will take her some time too”

Yes, yes, that’s it.

Time, you just need time.

She can give you time.

Bela extends her arms invitingly and Cassandra has no strength to pretend, letting herself fall into the arms of her older sister who holds her easily even if she is the smallest of the three, the blonde caresses her back gently while purring softly, her scent next to her mother's harmonizes around her but the fear in her chest does not disappear, the image of horror on your face still clear in her mind.

------

Daniela watched you from afar with only one fly from her swarm, Bela had given you a week off from classes to give you space and had ordered her to stay away from you unless you were the one who initiated contact.

Four days and you had not said a word.

It was like the first days you had arrived, but you were the one who locked yourself away from the world, your answers were limited to denying and nodding your head, not even Relia or Dorotthea could pull a sound out of you.

While there were no emotions on your face, your scent gave away what you were hiding.

The fear and worry that radiated from you made her feel cold, which contrasted with the warmth of the days. However, she did not lose hope because under those turbulent emotions she could notice the aroma that she recognized as affection.

This was just another obstacle to overcome so that her sister could obtain her happy ending, the part where love and loyalty are put to the test to give the relationship a boost.

It was only a matter of time.

----------------------

“Haven't I already told you that what you mistakenly take for madness is just an excessive sharpness of the senses? At that moment…”

Normally Cassandra would have rolled her eyes with mocking affection when listening to Daniela read with an exaggerated voice and gestures, but her sister remained still in her arms with her eyes looking through the redhead her mind outside the room.

Bela never thought that one day she would rather deal with the mess that Cassandra's anger attacks caused instead of silence, but here she was, wishing that her sister would scream and destroy the entire room instead of staying still submerged in apathy. Cassandra, like the Alpha, had not said a word since that day, the difference is that instead of avoiding contact, the brunette constantly looked for it, in the hallways she was more discreet, but behind closed doors she did not hold back, lying on top of whoever was nearby.

The weight on her legs increased, coming back to herself she saw Daniela lying on top of Cassandra who simply raised her arms giving her space to accommodate herself, without wasting any time she hugged the middle child torso who surrounded her without responding to the purr that the redhead let out.

Bela sighed resting her head on Cassandra's.

The best option was to be patient and let the alpha process everything without interruptions.

The alpha will come to and beg for her sister's forgiveness.

And Bela, being the exemplary older sister that she is, will give her a good punch.

“So-”

The dining room door opened with a bang that immediately caught everyone's attention.

“What makes you interrupt my time with my daughters? Scoundrel.” Mother was furious, her sisters followed her in irritation, but Cassandra simply turned to look without much interest, since the incident her omega spent the whole day crying and at night nightmares haunted her which drained her energy during the day.

The comfort of her pack was something she was grateful for, without their care she would have most likely let herself die of hunger, the terrified face of her alpha haunting her every time she took a bite.

“Alpha, please.”

Time, they need to give her time.

Who would love someone like you?

Shut up.

You know I'm right, you're not worth it.

Shut up, father.

“The alpha is gone!”

I told you.

How dare she?

A freak like you can never be loved.

To give her hope

You are just a parasite that attracts death.

To make her feel wanted.

You will die alone; Sabina just accept your pathetic fate.

Only to abandon her.

“Cassandra!”

“Fuck this”

Hate her, she doesn’t care.

Curse her, she doesn’t care.

“Alpha is ours”

Even if she must chain you, you will stay.

You are hers forever.

[charliehoennam]

aftermath.

A/N: nobody asked for this, but all I've seen is Will smut (which I totally love, don't get me wrong) but I need some vulnerable Will

Pairing: Will Miller x f!reader

Warnings: grief, mourning, sad!will, mentions of death, mentions of Will's military past and Tom's funeral

One of the things you've always admired about Will is his strength. He was always the one to put on a brave face and push on. The captain in him had the duty of moving forward and completing whatever mission was at hand, whether it was getting his team to the landing zone or grocery shopping day at home.

It was that very same strength he possessed that got him through the darkest times in his life.

Losing his war veteran grandfather, losing his comrades in combat or to the haunting PTSD that they tried to chase away with substance abuse.

Before you came into his life, before he realized that he was lost in the same fog of that purgatory of PTSD, shutting his emotions out is the only thing he knew. After all that time, he came to believe it was easier than having to deal with them.

It just wasn't a priority; a moment of tears he refused to share with anyone anywhere other than sat naked and alone on the shower floor.

Tom wasn't the first friend he'd lost, but it doesn't mean it made losing him any easier.

It was easy for him to plaster a smile and bury his grief deep down until he felt it was time to unbury it and mourn.

Getting to that point of self-awareness was a victory in itself.

It took so much patience and love and pain, not only on his behalf but yours as well, to help him to understand what he was really struggling with.

He hadn't realized it had gotten so uncontrollable until the incident at Publix - the grand revelation of the weapon he could be, once shred of his humanity, provided the cathartic acceptance of the fact that he needed help.

Upon federal investigation, the story they told was that Tom had been shot and killed in a tragic mugging incident on their consultation trip. Just a boys' night out gone bad.

It wasn't too hard to believe, given they were 5 foreigners in a country that wasn't theirs. The heat from the Feds didn't last long. Thanks to Santiago's few but faithful contacts, that investment was quickly brought to an end.

It's barely 6 a.m. and you're stood in the kitchen making coffee, still processing how this all happened.

Your black dress is simple but elegant and modest against your body. Despite the itchy fabric, you can feel the early morning chill soaking through.

The dripping of the coffee maker lures you into a whirlwind of thoughts. You watch the droplets of dew form on the kitchen window against the cloudy sky which threatens to rain.

You start to second guess the toast when it pops up in the toaster. You're not the slightest bit hungry and you're positive Will won't be either, but you have to try.

He hasn't eaten right in the past couple days. You didn't say anything, but you've noticed the few bites he'd given his food and the way he'd pick at it.

He should've been ready and downstairs by now, so you decide to go up and check on him.

Moving forward is hard for most people, but for Will, it's what keep the pain at bay. The problem is when he stops.

Like a tornado, he's left with the screaming silence and the damage it left in it's wake.

Now that he's home, the mission of bringing Tom home is complete, the hard truth that his friend and mentor is gone has begun to sink in.

You gently knock on the door as you reach your shared bedroom.

"Honey, do you want any help?"

"I'm good, sweetheart. I'll be right out."

You can hear him sniffle despite his attempt to sound as normal as possible. Unconvinced, you turn the knob and open the door.

He's sat on the edge of the bed wearing a simple black suit as he looks back over his shoulder at you with a Marine coin in hand, a gift from Tom when Will confessed about his therapy sessions.

You aren't too surprised to see he changed out of the formal military blue suit he had out on earlier.

The ribbons, the medals, the badges... He couldn't put them on without feeling the crushing and staining weight of guilt.

"Lat minute outfit change?"

The corner of your lips curl in an attempt to smile, hoping to cheer him up with a bit of tease.

"I was gonna wear my dress blues, but..." he trails off for a moment to swallow hard. "Just didn't feel right."

Without a word, you quietly walk over and sit beside him. You're not sure what he needs right now, but you don't want him to feel alone.

"Black is more flattering if you ask me," you speak up.

His beard twitches as he attempts to smile. He knows you just want to help him feel better. Yet all he can do is stare down at the gold coin.

"Five times... Five times. Five close calls. And he survived them all. He didn't deserve to go out like that. He just wanted to help his family."

You fight back tears as you listen to him with an arm wrapped his back as you press your cheek to his shoulder.

"I told Santi to get him in. I said I'd go if Tom was in. Tom didn't even want to go in the first place. He didn't-"

There's a crack in his voice which he catches it in his throat to compose himself. He sniffles letting a tear cascade down his cheek only to wipe it away quickly, hoping you hadn't seen it.

"This isn't on you, Will."

He nods although you both know deep inside that he won't stop blaming himself.

"When you told me you were a marine, I knew the risks that came with that, Will. Every knock on the door had my heart racing. But I decided to stay with you because I love you. There wasn't a person on earth or a God in the sky that was gonna tell me otherwise. I knew the risks and I took 'em anyways because not having you would've hurt more... I don't understand how fate works other than we all end up the same. What I do know is that all we can do is love our close ones and cherish the good memories you have of them."

With a tearful and silent nod, he lowers his head and rests it against your chest. His arms lock around your waist as he surrenders to the tears in your embrace.

The tears quietly trickle down your cheeks as you listen to him finally breaking down.

With your lips pressed against his golden hair, you hold him in your arms and stroke the hair on the back of his neck to soothe him for as long as he needs.

All you can do is hold him through it and he couldn't be more thankful to have you in such a vulnerable moment after having faced them on his own for so many years.

Just the feeling of not being alone was overwhelming enough, but to have you holding him and reminding him of the things that are easy to ignore in grief give him hope.

Although he feels he's coming apart, he knows that he'll have the strength he's always had.

It's different now. It's not the strength to bury and forget; it's the strength to heal.

With a sigh of relief after a long, vulnerable moment, he pulls away from you and nods, mentally assuring himself that he's alright.

Upon arriving at the church, you're greeted by Molly so you offer your deepest condolences due to the circumstances. Just as Will, you find that the guys have all opted to wear normal black suits instead of the formal military uniform and you wonder if it's for the same reason.

"Sorry for that," he sniffles wiping his eyes as he tries to regain his composure, swallowing hard with guilt. "We should get going... I don't wanna be late."

You remind him that there is no need to apologize and that he can take the time to splash some water on his face to help him recollect before leaving.

Frankie doesn't say a word other than to Molly and the girls, apologizing for their loss. Throughout the priest's religious ceremony of easing words, Benny's apathetic eyes are glued to Tom's casket set in front of the church between his military portrait and a beautiful arrangement of white flowers. During Will's heartfelt eulogy, Santiago keeps his head lowered as the guilt consumes him.

The grift and sadness during the wake only follow and weigh heavier during the long walk to the gravesite, lingering among the guests of the funeral like a dark cloud. It's only reflected in depths by the light rain pitter-pattering all around.

The military traditions at the funeral leave a bitter tinge of irony in the boys as they watch Tom's casket lowering into the ground.

Tess's happy big doey eyes are now swollen and red as she cries under her mother's arm, hugging the folded flag as if it were her dad, while Molly holds her other and youngest daughter under the other arm.

Looking over at Will, you see that he's trying his hardest to keep his strong facade as well as the boys.

You slide your hand into his and whisper to remind him he's not alone and doesn't have to feel alone.

With a gentle squeeze to your hand, he nods.

"You with me?"

"I'm with you."

You and Will - as well as the guys and Tom's family - are the last to leave, reminding Molly that you're more than willing to help with anything.

Will, however, lingers a moment to speak to her private and tells her about the fund. You can tell from her reaction, she's genuinely surprised and thankful, relieved to know that she'll be able to pay for the funeral.

Having called your boss the previous day to let them know you wouldn't be going to work due to the funeral, you take the rest of the day off to recover from the overwhelming day after the funeral.

The drive home is quiet save for the rain against the car and the windshield, echoing into the vehicle which you insisted on driving to give Will some mental ease. He didn't put up a fight. He was quite relieved you'd offered.

In spite of being eager to understand how he's doing, you refuse to burden him with constant questions and decide to respect his mourning process. So, you keep a hand on his thigh to remind you're in this together.

He doesn't mind it at all. In fact, he is grateful for your respect and your thoughtfulness. His hand rests over yours and doesn't leave until you have to pull your hand back to turn the steering wheel, but it finds it's way back onto his leg, warm fully welcomed by his engulfing hand.

As you're undressing in your room, Will's hand catches yours while you're unzipping your dress.

"Thanks... I don't know about you, but I'd say this weather is perfect cuddling weather," you share letting the dress hang loosely off your shoulders.

Will smiles shyly as if you'd read his mind and locks his arms around your waist.

"I couldn't agree more."

[cacti-are-like-flamingos]

Beginnings...

Gojo Satoru x Reader x Geto Suguru

The Cursed Trio | Shared Moments

...

Your arrival to the academy came as a surprise to many, apparently you were some transfer from overseas. You'd show a shit ton of promise that they transferred you to Jujutsu in order to more efficiently reach your true potential. Rumor was it, you'd one day make it as a Special Grade. Even so, for now you remained a Grade One.

Your Japanese was decent at best and your adaptation to their customs was a work-in-progress but you held this certain charm that just drew people in. And no, I'm not talking about the kind of charm where everyone falls in love. No, it's the type of charm that makes people relax around you, makes them want to put their faith in you no matter how much to try to prevent that.

You could be a fresh of spring just as you could be a fresh of icy air, the kind that freezes up your lungs.

The first time you saw them, you were being shown around by your mentor --- a stoic expression written on your scarred face as you nodded at them. Briefly acknowledging them as you continued on your way.

Geto had figured your eyes as beautiful --- like an eternal flame hidden behind layers of stone wettened under a stream of a freshwater. Whilst Gojo had figured you a possible new victim for his pranks and teases. In fact, Gojo even had the nerve to interrupt your tour. Demanding to know your name. Shoko, who had been hanging about, was glad another girl had joined the academy. Afterall, it was getting rather stuffy with all the testosterone.

They knew you'd get well with the duo when the first thing you did was insult Gojo, although both him and Geto didn't really understand your insult. Actually, they didn't even know you insulted him until Shoko just started laughing out loud.

You called him a phospholipid??? The actual fuck is that

At that, you gave them a deadpanned stare, speaking in broken japanese that at the very least he should get educated because he was obviously missing a few brain cells

Now at this, both Shoko and Geto bent over laughing while Gojo stood there momentarily stunned before a sinister smirk adorned his lips. He went to insult you back but was quite literally by the sight of your hand in his face, "No time for idiot. Bye."

The absolute nerve on you!

Geto absolutely loved you since that day. On the other hand, it was a enemies to whatever with Gojo, which is ironic considering that he sought you out every moment of the day.

You and Shoko became the best of girl-friends. To be honest, the two of you were incredibly similar. The both of you were lazy as hell, smart as hell, and blunt as hell. Although, you seemed to have mastered the trick of honeying your harsh words so much so that people didn't even fight you on it.

To put their friendship into perspective, Shoko brought the cigarettes and you brought the lighter (despite you being a non-smoker. Once you tried to smoke but you didn't like the taste of it so you left it at that)

Although there was a time Gojo was being a nuisance so you grabbed a cigarette from Shoko's carton, lit it, and blew the smoke straight into his face when he wasn't expecting it

Watching him double-over choking was a grand sight indeed

You managed to make quite the number of friends while there, although many noticed how you kept a distance. I say this literally. You never let anyone come physically close to you, as though a simple graze from them would kill you or something. No-one dare question it consider that they also had their traumas that prevented them from certain indulgences. But sometimes, you'd make small exceptions. I think it's mainly of a "dont touch me but I'll touch you" situation.

Like you don't mind swiping dust off of Nanami's shoulder, or neatening Shoko's hair when it's gotten all frizzy due to the wind, or picking off lint off of Yaga's clothes.

But if you didn't initiate it, you'd go silently rigid.

During class, you like hanging around this one guy name Yu. Mainly because he knew a bit of your native language (surprising I know) and so, you felt safe enough to speak with him considering that you both spoke brokenly in either tongue. The only other person you felt safe enough to speak was Geto. He was actually the one that took it upon himself to teach you Japanese.

He'd recommend shows to watch and he'd watch with you so that he could explains certain customs and what-not of his culture. He found great amusement when a scene he knew you wouldn't understand played and you'd instantly pause the show to look at him with a questioning expression. It made you look rather cute in his eyes.

Gojo would often times crash during these hang-outs. Pestering you to learn his language quicker so that he can properly cuss you out (he says this while having an arm over you shoulder and leaning his full weight into your side. Surprisingly, you never said anything despite your reservations to touching.)

You chalked it up to wanting warmth.

Then came that point in your language-education where Geto wanted you to try speaking in a public setting and you just about cried right in front of him and Gojo. You gripped your fist so tight your nails drew blood, an action to prevent you from clinging onto Geto's clothes as he scolded Gojo for worsening your nerves. Gojo didn't stop laughing until he saw actual tears in your eyes.

With silent chuckles, Gojo took you by the shoulders and guided you over to some random corner store. You never once told him what your favorite snack was but somehow he knew to choose it before placing it in your hand. He told you exactly what you needed to say to the cashier with the exact amount of yen needed.

The both of them watched as you walked up to the cashier, briefly glancing over your shoulder to Gojo (still very much teary-eyed and rigid-body), who silently mouth the words again, before doing as he instructed.

After the whole ordeal, you surprised Gojo with an incredibly rare hug. I think at that moment, you truly managed to snake your way into his soul.

Geto stood to the side, a knowing smile on his lips as he watched you quickly let go. Shouting at Gojo that he owes you a sweet because of how brave you were, which should've annoyed him but only made you look endearing.

...

(A/N): Have yet to see Season 2 but those fucking beta fish tiktoks are murdering me right now with their symbolism.

Say, why don't you like being touched? What happened to you?

Where'd you get the scar?

And what's up with Geto's eternal flame comparison? So weird.

Drop a comment

Feel free to buy me a 🦩

Hope you enjoyed!

Edited: 7/25/2023

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

hii brainrot i love your work :}}}

i was wonder if maybe you could do a lil drabble of muriel having to deal with his and mc's kid being an absolute wild card like constantly going to the woods or town to explore without telling, climbing things they aren't supposed and just generally giving muriel constant mini heart attacks

byee have a good rest of your dayy ^^

"What am I doing wrong?"

There's only one person in the world who can make your stoic partner emote like this, and it's the terror of a five-year-old peacefully dozing in their trundle on the other side of the hut. Muriel sits perched on the edge of your bed with his face in his hands.

"And I thought Asra was hard to deal with as a kid ..."

"What happened?"

You try not to chuckle as you sit next to him and lay a hand on his broad shoulder. It feels like touching a very warm boulder, the tension bunching the muscles there so tightly you'd think his back was made of knots. He turns to give you a wide-eyed stare of disbelief.

"They're not afraid of anything."

You suppress a snort.

"Isn't that a good thing? You always talked about wanting them to grow up knowing they're safe no matter what."

"I do -" He sinks his face back into his palms, taking slow, even breaths as the shoulder under your hand slowly starts to relax. "I do, but I-I can't. I can't keep them safe from everything. They're growing up so fast. I don't want them to lose their spark because I can't keep up."

You nod quietly. Muriel's right. Your child has a firmly rooted faith in a big, beautiful world full of love and wonder, and their own boundless curiosity calls them into all the places that would gladly shatter that dream. You want them to explore and learn and grow, but you dread watching a little of the light leave their eyes because you taught them wariness.

"I know." You start to rub your palm along his spine. He relaxes through another deep breath, eventually slumping over in the hard-won ease of years of closeness, laying his head on your lap so you can take out the day's braids. You card your fingers through his hair with a sigh. "I want them to hold onto that safety, too - I guess they're more ready to grow up than we are to watch it happen."

That earns you a fondly exasperated huff. "They chased a bee."

"They - what?" Your fingers pause in shock. You see the corner of his mouth twitch in a tired smile.

"I took them to check the charms. When I turned around, they were almost out of sight."

"Did you catch them?"

"Barely. They followed it to its hive in that old stump by the clover clearing and I caught them trying to climb in to visit."

"Good grief." You sit speechless for a moment, stunned into silence. Muriel's exhaustion finally catches up to him and his voice cracks on a hysterical giggle.

"They said the bee invited them to tea with its family and then they asked me to give them some treats to share with the hive."

You roll your lips in an attempt to fight your laughter. "And?"

"I told them we only have food for people, not bees. They came back to the hut with me after that, but then -" His voice breaks on a snort. You watch in sleepy awe as his eyes crinkle with amusement.

"But then?" You can hear laughter quivering in your own whisper.

"Then they put your shopping basket on their head and walked right back out the door. When I asked them where they were going they said Selasi the baker has food for bees so they were going to go buy some."

Muriel turns his head into your lap to stifle a wheeze. You clap your hand over your mouth and wait for him to recover. Eventually, he resurfaces with tears in his eyes, clearly at the breaking point of loving stress and pure exhaustion that renders everything hilarious.

"I asked them what they meant - they said - heehee - they were going to get - you remember those honey loaves?"

You gasp. "The ones he shaped like bees?"

Muriel nods, his weathered face crinkling up in new laugh lines. "They said Selasi would make them bee bread and they were going to go buy some."

You chuckle into your hand, watching Muriel's shoulders silently shake. "You know Selasi absolutely would if they asked him, though."

"I know," he pauses to clap his hand over another snort and continues, "I told them we'd have to wait until tomorrow to go, so they gave me their money for safe keeping."

You stare down at him in disbelief. "Where did they get money? They're five!"

Your partner lifts himself out of your lap, loose hair falling around his chin and jaw as he stands to rummage in his discarded cloak's pocket. He turns back to you with one large hand out, delicately cradling the small collection of treasures piled in it.

A pretty leaf. Some acorn caps. Two sparkly rocks. And one snow-white chicken feather with a tiny, blackberry-stained fingerprint smudged on the tip. You feel your heart melt at the earnest innocence and glance instinctively back to the trundle, dark tufts of fine hair and round, chubby cheeks happily snuggled into the drool-puddled pillow. You turn back to your partner.

"There has to be a way to let this tea party happen."

He hangs his head and sighs. "I'm open to ideas."

[sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts]

𝕿𝖜𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝕿𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 | 6

read chapter 1 - here [MASTERLIST]

screencaps and gifs: Pinterest and @pedgito

Pairing: dark!Joel Miller x Fem!reader

Warnings/tags: MDNI 18+, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT,DUB/NON-CON, Auctioning people, Dom and Sub dynamics, Drinking, food, kissing, possessiveness, flirting, praise, Orgasums, manipulation, burns, Bondage (with a belt), strip tease, thigh riding, riding, punishments, hair pulling, Orgasum denial, Degrading, breeding kink?maybe a lil, UNprotected sex wrap it before you tap it kids, THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION, YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME

Summary: Faith drops a ball and you try and take some control over Joel

WC: 5.6k

A/n: Hehe...switch Joel? also this took a sec because i originally wrote it completely different but big big shout out too @underthechemtrails who read one of the first editions she was an amazing help when it came to well everything luv ya pookie

For notifications follow - @sinful-mind-joyful-fics

“Faith,” you giggled as she told you about the prank she pulled on Tommy, the warmth of her laughter making your heart feel lighter. You had Faith on speakerphone, the sounds of sizzling food and clinking utensils filling your small kitchen as you prepared dinner, waiting for Joel to come home.

“He was so mad, but it was worth it,” Faith chuckled. “What about you? How have you been holding up?”

You sighed, a mixture of exhaustion and relief in your voice. “I’ve been okay. Classes are going well, and I’m almost finished with my most recent painting. It’s been a good distraction.”

“That’s great to hear,” Faith replied, her tone softening with genuine care. “And Joel? How are things with him?”

You hesitated, your fingers pausing over the chopping board. “It’s been... complicated. We had this intense encounter a few days ago, and it’s been hard to shake off. It felt more like a punishment than anything else.”

You hesitated, your fingers pausing over the chopping board as you chopped vegetables for the spaghetti sauce. “It’s been... complicated. We had this intense encounter a few days ago, and it’s been hard to shake off. It felt more like a punishment than anything else.”

Faith laughed softly, thinking it was a joke. “A punishment? Sounds kinky. What did he do?”

You took a deep breath, feeling a knot in your stomach. “I said no to something, and he didn’t listen. He forced himself on me and made me... well, it was a blowjob. It felt like he was punishing me for saying no.”

There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line. When Faith spoke again, her voice was much more serious. “Wait, what? He forced you? That’s not okay. That’s not a punishment, that’s... that’s assault.”

You swallowed hard, the reality of her words hitting you. “I didn’t think of it that way. I just felt... helpless.”

Faith’s tone softened, filled with concern. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize it was like that. I thought it was a consensual thing. Are you okay?”

You stopped cooking, setting the knife down as you tried to keep your composure. “I don’t know. I’ve been trying to make sense of it. I didn’t want to believe it was that bad.”

Faith’s voice was gentle but firm. “You shouldn’t have to deal with this alone. You deserve to feel safe.”

Taking a deep breath, you steadied yourself. “Faith, can I ask you something?”

"Of course," Faith replied, her tone encouraging. "What’s on your mind?"

"Do you and Tommy have a safe word?" you asked, the words feeling foreign on your tongue.

Faith paused for a moment before answering. "Yes, we do. Safe words are essential in any kind of BDSM or kink relationship. Do you and Joel have one?"

"No," you admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed. "I read about them in an article when I was trying to figure out something new to try with Joel. The article mentioned safe words when it talked about bondage, but I didn’t really understand what it meant."

Faith’s laughter was warm and reassuring. "That’s okay. A safe word is a word or phrase that you and your partner agree on, which means ‘stop’ immediately. It’s used to communicate when something is too much or if you’re uncomfortable. It’s different from just saying ‘no’ because sometimes in roleplay, saying ‘no’ can be part of the game. The safe word is a clear signal that the scene needs to stop right away."

"Oh," you said, feeling a bit more enlightened. "So it’s like a safety net?"

"Exactly," Faith confirmed. "It’s there to ensure that both partners feel safe and respected. It’s crucial in maintaining trust. If you’re ever feeling overwhelmed, you use the safe word, and everything stops."

You nodded, even though Faith couldn’t see you, feeling a bit more at ease. "That makes sense. I guess I need to talk to Joel about that."

Faith’s voice took on a more serious tone. "Absolutely. And make sure you’re clear about what you’re comfortable with and what you want to explore. Speaking of which, is there something specific you want to try?"

You hesitated, feeling a bit nervous. "Well, actually, yes. I read about bondage, and I kind of want to try it, but I’d like to be the one in control. I want Joel to be the one tied up."

There was a brief pause before Faith responded, her voice laced with excitement. "Ooh, that sounds interesting! But I get why you’re nervous. You want to make sure he’s open to it and understands your boundaries."

"Exactly," you said, feeling a bit more relieved. "How do I bring it up without making it awkward or seeming like I’m trying to change things too much?"

Faith chuckled softly. "Well, first of all, it’s all about timing. Find a moment when you’re both relaxed and open to talking. Maybe after dinner, when you’re both in a good mood. Start by talking about your relationship and how much you value it, then ease into the topic of trying new things."

You nodded, making a mental note of her advice. "Okay, that sounds doable. And then what?"

"Be honest and direct," Faith advised. "Tell him you’ve been reading about different aspects of intimacy and that you’re curious about trying bondage. Explain that you’d like to experiment with being the one in control and see how he feels about it. Make sure he knows it’s about exploring together and that you value his comfort and boundaries too."

"That makes sense," you said, feeling a bit more confident. "I just hope he’s open to it."

Faith's voice took on a nostalgic tone. "You know, the one time I was with Joel, I actually tied him up. He was surprisingly okay with it. He was more of a guide, really, helping me feel comfortable while still letting me take control. It was... nice, in a way."

You blinked in surprise, the spoon in your hand pausing mid-stir. "He was tied up? And he was okay with that?"

"Yeah," Faith confirmed, her voice growing more somber. "He was open to it. But there’s something I need to tell you." She took a deep breath, her tone shifting from nostalgic to serious. "That night, Joel punished me too. It was consensual at first, but it got a bit intense. He didn’t listen to my safe word."

You felt a chill run down your spine, the spoon slipping from your fingers into the pot. "Faith, why didn’t you tell me about this before?"

Faith sighed heavily, the sound filled with regret. "Honestly? I didn’t want to worry you. You seemed so happy with him, and I hoped that maybe he was different with you. But hearing you talk about how he’s been... it brings back some memories."

You turned off the stove, giving Faith your full attention. "You should have told me. I need to know these things."

"I know," Faith admitted, her voice tinged with a sadness that was rarely there. "I should have. But I just... didn’t want to cloud your view of him if he was treating you well. Now that I know he’s been rough with you too, I’m worried."

You felt a surge of conflicting emotions. "It’s okay, Faith. I understand why you didn’t. But it’s important for me to know."

Faith took a deep breath, her voice steadying. "You’re right. And I’m sorry. It’s just... hard to talk about. But you need to know that if he hasn’t changed and he’s being... rapey, you need to call me. I’ll drop everything to come get you."

You felt a knot of fear and gratitude in your chest. "Okay. I promise I will."

"Good," Faith said, her voice softening slightly. "Now, about this bondage thing... Start with the safe word. And be honest about wanting to try bondage but wanting him to be the one tied up. He might surprise you, but if he pushes back in a way that makes you uncomfortable, don’t ignore it."

You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of determination and fear. "Okay. I’ll talk to him. And if things go south, I’ll call you."

"Promise me you will," Faith urged. "No matter what."

"I promise," you said, feeling a sense of relief knowing she was there for you.

"Good," Faith said warmly. "And remember, you deserve to feel safe and respected. Don’t let anyone take that away from you."

"Thanks, Faith," you said, your voice trembling slightly. "I appreciate you being here for me."

"Always," Faith replied with a comforting tone. "Now go finish dinner and have that talk. You’ve got this."

You hung up the phone, Faith's words echoing in your mind. Her confession had left you feeling a mixture of relief and unease. As you turned back to the stove, you tried to focus on finishing dinner, but your thoughts kept drifting back to the conversation.

Suddenly, the front door creaked open. You jumped, the unexpected noise startling you. Joel was home early. His heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway, and you could smell the earthy scent of sweat and construction dust before you saw him.

"Hey," Joel called out as he stepped into the kitchen. His voice was gruff but filled with a hint of warmth.

Startled, you accidentally knocked the spoon against the pot, causing hot sauce to splash onto your hand. You yelped in pain, instinctively pulling your hand away and clutching it to your chest.

Joel's eyes widened in concern as he quickly closed the distance between you. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"It’s nothing," you managed through gritted teeth, trying to downplay the pain. "I just burned myself."

Without another word, Joel gently took your hand, examining the burn with a furrowed brow. He was still dirty from work, the scent of dirt and sweat mingling with the kitchen aromas. Despite his rough appearance, his touch was tender as he guided you to the sink.

"Let’s get this under some cold water," he said softly, turning on the tap and holding your hand under the stream. The cool water provided instant relief, but your heart was still racing from the shock of his sudden arrival and the sting of the burn.

"Thanks," you murmured, glancing up at him. His face was etched with concern, and for a moment, you saw a different side of him—a side that cared deeply about your well-being.

Joel nodded, his expression softening. "You need to be more careful." His voice was gentle, a stark contrast to the usual roughness you were accustomed to.

You nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I know. I just got distracted."

Joel glanced at the stove, then back at you. "I can finish dinner if you want to take a break."

"No, it’s okay," you replied, pulling your hand back once the pain had subsided. "I’ll finish it."

He hesitated, then nodded. "Alright. Just be careful."

You returned to the stove, but Joel didn’t leave your side. His presence was both comforting and intimidating, and you found yourself struggling to focus. You stirred the pot absentmindedly, your mind still reeling from your conversation with Faith and the sudden shift in your evening.

"Joel," you began hesitantly, feeling the weight of the upcoming conversation. "There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about."

He looked at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What is it?"

You took a deep breath, summoning the courage you needed. "I’ve been reading about BDSM dynamics, and I realized we don’t have a safe word. I think it’s something we need to establish to ensure we both feel safe and respected."

Joel’s expression shifted, a mixture of surprise and defensiveness. “A safe word? Why do we need that? I’ve never done anything to make you uncomfortable. Everything I do is to make you feel good.”

You felt a knot tighten in your stomach. “But sometimes it feels too intense, like the other night. I want to make sure we have a way to stop if it’s too much.”

He crossed his arms, his posture becoming more rigid. “Why are you even researching this stuff? You can come to me with any concerns. You don’t need to look things up online.”

“I just wanted to understand better,” you explained, trying to keep your voice steady. “I thought it would help us communicate more clearly.”

Joel’s eyes darkened, his tone accusatory. “Is this Faith’s idea? She’s the one with the problem, not us. I don’t need her planting doubts in your head.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the intensity of his gaze. “It’s not just about Faith. It’s about making sure we both feel safe and respected.”

Joel shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “Of course, it’s Faith. She’s never liked me. Remember how she repacked your suitcase, telling you what to bring and what not to? She’s always trying to control you. Why do you listen to her?”

You felt a pang of frustration and sadness. “Joel, Faith is just concerned about me. She wants me to be safe and happy.”

“She wants you to doubt me,” he snapped, his voice rising. “She’s always been trying to drive a wedge between us. Can’t you see that? She’s manipulating you.”

You turned back to the stove, trying to focus on the spaghetti rather than his words. “Joel, this isn’t about Faith. This is about us and making sure our relationship is healthy.”

“She doesn’t respect me,” he continued, ignoring your attempt to steer the conversation. “She’s always undermining me, filling your head with nonsense. Why can’t you see that she’s the problem?”

You took a deep breath, fighting to keep your voice steady. “Joel, I’m not going to cut Faith out of my life. She’s my friend, and she cares about me. But this conversation is about us establishing boundaries and making sure we both feel safe.”

Joel’s expression hardened, his eyes narrowing. “Boundaries? We never needed boundaries before she started meddling.”

You sighed, trying to keep your composure as you placed the plates of spaghetti on the table. “This isn’t about Faith meddling. It’s about us communicating better. Can we please just sit down and talk about this calmly?”

Joel pushed his chair back, standing up abruptly. “No,” he said flatly. “Put my dinner in the microwave. I need to get cleaned up.”

You blinked in surprise, feeling a rush of anxiety. “Joel, we need to talk about this.”

He ignored you, heading for the kitchen door. “You know, I paid for your college tuition with that $300,000. It was your money, and I assumed you’d use it for that anyway. And I had my accountant merge our bank accounts. It makes things easier for both of us.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, a wave of fear and confusion washing over you. “What? Joel, you can’t just merge our accounts without talking to me first!”

He turned back, his expression cold. “Why are you getting so defensive? I’m just trying to take care of you.”

The words hit hard, knocking the wind out of you. You struggled to steady your voice, but it wavered. "Joel, that's a major decision. You should have discussed it with me. I feel like you're making all the decisions without considering me."

He scoffed and shook his head dismissively before walking away from the kitchen doorway. You felt your head spinning as panic surged through you. How could he make such decisions without even consulting you? It wasn't just about merging bank accounts; it was about him asserting his will without considering your feelings. 

Just as you were setting the last plate on the table, Joel returned to the kitchen, his hair still damp from the shower, which made him look unusually handsome with droplets of water catching the light. "Is my dinner ready?" His tone was demanding, carrying an air of authority that unsettled you further.

You nodded, trying to keep your voice steady. “Yes, I put it in the microwave for you.”

Joel walked over to the microwave, opening it and taking out his plate. The scent of the spaghetti filled the room as he set his plate down. He gave you a brief, appreciative look. “Dinner smells great, sweetheart,” he said, his voice softening slightly. “You always know how to make the perfect sauce.”

You managed a small smile, though it felt forced. “Thanks, Joel. I’m glad you like it.”

He took a few bites, nodding appreciatively. "Where did you hear about this ‘safe word’ stuff anyway?"

You swallowed hard, choosing your words carefully. "I’ve been doing some research on BDSM. I was specifically looking into bondage and came across the concept of safe words. It seems important, especially for trust and communication."

Joel’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he kept his tone neutral. "Researching, huh? And what made you want to look into that?"

You glanced down at your plate, feeling a mix of anxiety and determination. "I wanted to explore more. I felt ready to try new things, and I thought it would be good for us to have clear boundaries. It’s about making sure we both feel comfortable and respected."

Joel leaned back in his chair, studying you intently. "And you think we need this because of what happened the other night?"

You nodded, feeling a lump in your throat. "Yes. I want to feel safe, and I want you to feel safe too. It’s about mutual respect and trust."

He sighed, setting his fork down and leaning forward slightly, his gaze locking onto yours. "I’ve never done anything to make you uncomfortable on purpose. Everything I’ve done was to make you feel good."

You bit your lip, trying to find the right words. "I know, Joel. But sometimes, things can go too far without meaning to. A safe word would give us both a way to stop if it ever gets to be too much."

Joel's expression softened as he reached across the table, his fingers brushing yours. "I get what you’re saying, but you should have come to me with this first. We don’t need outside influences like Faith planting doubts."

You took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of relief and lingering anxiety. "This isn’t about Faith. This is about us. I need to know that if I say no or if something is too much for me, you’ll respect that."

Joel’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, his touch firm but not unkind. "You’ll want for nothing, you know that, right? I’m just trying to take care of us, make things easier."

You looked down at his hand, then back up at him, feeling a knot of unease in your stomach. "I appreciate everything you do, Joel. But we need to make decisions together. I need to feel like we’re equals."

Suddenly, Joel’s mood shifted, his voice laced with a darker edge. “You know, you’re just like Faith. Think you’re ready for all this sex stuff, then go crying when you can’t take it.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, tears welling up in your eyes. “Joel, that’s not fair.”

He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Isn’t it? You want to explore, but then you can’t handle it when things get real. Maybe you should think about that before trying to bring in all these new rules.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your voice. “It’s not about handling it, Joel. It’s about feeling safe and respected. I thought you understood that.”

Joel’s eyes softened, and he leaned forward, reaching out to touch your cheek. “Sweetheart, you know I care about you more than anything. I’m just trying to make things perfect for us. You don’t have to worry about anything, just trust me.”

His touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself leaning into his hand despite the turmoil in your mind. “I do trust you, Joel, but I need to feel like my voice matters too.”

He smiled, a seductive, almost hypnotic smile. “Of course your voice matters. It’s just that sometimes, I know what’s best for us. You don’t need to be burdened with all the details. You should be focusing on your art, your classes, the things that make you happy.”

“But merging our accounts without asking?” you pressed, trying to hold onto your resolve. “That’s a big decision, Joel.”

He sighed, his thumb brushing your cheek softly. “I did it because I love you and I want to take care of you. You’ll want for nothing, I promise. Can’t you see that?”

You bit your lip, feeling the conflict inside you. His words were soothing, almost hypnotic, making you question your own doubts. “I just... I need to feel like we’re partners in this, Joel. Like I have a say.”

Joel’s hand moved to the back of your neck, his fingers gently massaging. “You do have a say. I’m listening to you right now, aren’t I? But trust me when I say, some things are better left to me. I want to protect you, to make things easier for you.”

You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and uncertainty. Joel's presence was overwhelming, yet comforting. "Okay," you whispered.

Joel pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours. “I just want what's best for us. We don’t need outside influences messing with what we have. Like Faith. She’s always been a bad influence.”

You frowned, the mention of Faith bringing back your earlier doubts. “Faith just wants to make sure I’m okay, Joel. She’s my friend.”

He sighed, his fingers still gently massaging your neck. “I get that, but she doesn’t understand us. She’s always filling your head with doubts, making you question everything. We don’t need that kind of negativity.”

You bit your lip, trying to find the right words. “She’s not trying to be negative. She just wants me to feel safe and respected.”

Joel's grip tightened slightly, his tone becoming more insistent. “You are safe and respected with me. You know that. Faith doesn’t see the full picture. She doesn’t understand what we have.”

You looked down, feeling conflicted. “I know she can be overprotective, but she’s just looking out for me.”

He cupped your face, tilting your chin up so you had to meet his gaze. “And so am I. But unlike Faith, I’m here with you every day. I know you better than anyone. You trust me, don’t you?”

You nodded slowly, the intensity of his gaze making it hard to think clearly. “Yes, I trust you, Joel.”

He smiled, his fingers brushing your hair back. “Good. That’s all I need to hear. Just trust me, and I promise everything will be alright.”

You took a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering doubt. “I do trust you. I just... I don’t want to lose my friends, Joel.”

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your temple. “You won’t lose your friends, sweetheart. But you need to make sure they’re not causing more harm than good. Sometimes, people don’t understand what’s best for us.”

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, and Joel gently wiped it away. “Don’t cry, baby. I’m here for you. Always.”

You nodded again, feeling the weight of his words. “Okay, Joel.”

Joel led you into the living room, his arm securely wrapped around your waist. He settled onto the couch, pulling you down onto his lap with ease. The warmth of his body enveloped you, and you nestled into him, seeking comfort in his closeness. The unease still lingered, but you tried to focus on the moment.

“That’s better,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. “Just relax. I’ve got you.”

You nodded, resting your head against his shoulder, letting out a small sigh. His hands began to move, gently caressing your back in slow, soothing strokes. The tension in your muscles started to ease as he continued to whisper reassurances.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” he said softly, his lips brushing your temple. “You don’t need to worry about anything when you’re with me.”

His touch was comforting, and you felt yourself beginning to relax, your worries momentarily forgotten. Joel’s hands wandered lower, tracing delicate patterns along your spine, then slipping under the hem of your shirt. His fingers were warm against your skin, and you shivered slightly at the sensation.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice laced with a seductive edge. “I want to make you feel good. Let me take care of you.”

You felt a surge of heat at his words, your heart beating faster. His hands roamed further, exploring the curve of your waist, then sliding up to cup your breast through your shirt. You gasped softly, the sensation both arousing and comforting.

“Joel...” you began, but he silenced you with a gentle kiss, his lips soft yet insistent against yours.

“Shh,” he murmured against your lips. “Just let go. Let me take care of everything.”

You melted into the kiss, your body responding to his touch despite the lingering doubts in your mind. His hands continued their journey, slipping beneath your shirt and bra, caressing your bare skin. The intimacy of his touch made your pulse race, and you couldn’t help but arch into him, seeking more of the warmth and security he offered.

“You see?” Joel whispered, his lips trailing down your neck. “You don’t need anyone else. I can give you everything you need.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, both arousing and unsettling. You wanted to believe him, to trust that he had your best interests at heart. His hands moved lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your pants, and you gasped at the intimate touch.

“Joel,” you breathed, your voice trembling. “This feels...”

“Good,” he finished for you, his fingers teasing you with expert precision. “It’s supposed to feel good. Just let yourself enjoy it.”

Joel's touch grew bolder, his fingers moving with deliberate intent. He was taking his time, savoring each moment, and the intensity of his actions left you breathless. His lips found your ear again, his voice a seductive whisper.

"Take off your clothes," he murmured, his hands still exploring your body. "I want to see you."

You hesitated, the command clashing with the turmoil inside you. "Joel, wait," you said softly, trying to steady your voice. "I... I want to try something."

He paused, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "What do you want to try?"

You took a deep breath, gathering your courage. "Your belt," you said, reaching for it. "I want to use it."

Joel’s eyes darkened with anticipation, and a smug smile played on his lips. "You want me to tie you up, huh?" he assumed, clearly enjoying the idea.

You shook your head, your heart pounding. "No, Joel. I want to tie you up."

As you reached for his belt, Joel's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice tinged with wariness.

You met his gaze, your hands trembling slightly. "I want to tie you up, Joel. Please, trust me."

His eyes flickered with hesitation, and he pulled back a little. "I don't know about this," he muttered, a frown creasing his forehead. "This wasn't part of the plan."

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside you. "Joel, this is about trust. You always tell me to trust you. Now, I'm asking you to trust me. Just this once."

Joel's jaw tightened, but he didn't pull away. His eyes searched yours for a long moment before he finally nodded. "Alright," he said, his voice low. "But just this once."

You let out a sigh of relief, your fingers resuming their task of unbuckling his belt. The leather felt cool and solid in your hands as you pulled it free, your heart pounding with a mix of fear and exhilaration. Joel's hands were still now, resting on his thighs as he watched you intently.

With the belt in hand, you looped it around his wrists, pulling it tight enough to hold him but not so tight as to cause discomfort. He tested the restraint, his muscles tensing, but didn't try to break free.

"Comfortable?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel smirked, though his eyes held a hint of challenge. "I suppose," he replied, his tone lighter but still tinged with uncertainty.

You positioned yourself on his lap, straddling him, feeling the heat of his body against yours. His bound hands rested on your hips, and you could feel the tension in his grip. Your hands moved to brush his damp hair back from his forehead, your fingers lingering on his skin.

"I want you to trust me, Joel," you said softly, your heart racing. "Just like I trust you."

His eyes softened slightly, and he nodded, his voice a low murmur. "I do trust you. Now, what are you going to do next?"

You leaned in, your lips brushing his ear. "I want to explore," you whispered, echoing his earlier words. "And I want you to see what it feels like to let go."

Joel's breath hitched, and you could sense the shift in his demeanor. He was intrigued, curious, and perhaps a little vulnerable. It was a side of him you hadn't seen before, and it gave you a glimmer of hope that you could find a balance between your desires and his control.

As you began to explore, your hands tracing over his body, you felt a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. This was uncharted territory, but the thrill of it was undeniable. Joel's eyes never left yours, and you could see the challenge in his gaze.

"Show me," he murmured, his voice a low growl. "Show me what you've got."

Your face turned red as you stood up, looking at Joel tied up with his own belt. It was a sight to behold—his damp hair, the way the tent in his pants made them look incredibly tight. You smirked, taking off your top and moving closer to shove your breasts in his face. He tried to bite at your nipples through your bra, making you giggle, but you didn't take it off just yet. 

Instead, you moved to your pants, quickly stripping them off before giving him a seductive look. You dangled your panties in front of his face, giggling again at the hunger in his eyes. He started to claw at the fabric with his teeth. "No, no," you teased, coming to sit on his jean-clad thigh, your knee brushing against his raging hard-on. "Use your words, Mister Miller."

You teasingly put his hands around your neck, his eyes darkening as you started to ride his thigh slowly, giving in exactly where your clit wanted him most. To tease him further, you put the panties in your mouth, letting them dangle as you rode him methodically. "Untie me," Joel growled, grabbing your hair and pulling it back, making you moan and drop the panties.

You rode him a little faster, clinging to his shirt with your hands. "No," you moaned again, your orgasm getting closer. You could hear Joel rustling with the belt behind your head as you rode his thigh faster and faster. Just as you were edging toward your orgasm, you heard the sound of something heavy fall to the floor. 

You looked down and saw his belt on the floor. Joel smirked at you before throwing you into the couch cushions, your ass in the air and on full display for him. He unhooked your bra, caressing your skin and grabbing everything he could. He pushed his hard-on into your ass, making you grind into it once again. "I said untie me," Joel growled as he pulled down his pants and boxers. 

"Teasing me—who are you, baby?" he pulled you up to his chest as he slid his cock into you. The stretch, painful at first, quickly faded into pure pleasure. "You're just so cock drunk," he chuckled as he thrusted up into you. Your moans were the only response you could get out. 

"Teasing me with your panties, thinking I wouldn't bend you over and fuck you into oblivion," he pushed your head down into the cushions and started pounding into you, using his hands to stabilize your hips. The sounds were so erotic—your moans muffled, his skin slapping against yours, and the squelching sound of your pussy being stretched out. 

You moved your hand to rub your clit, your orgasm so close, and Joel could tell. "That's it, there's that pussy, making you feel so good, aren't I?" he continued to pound into you as you rubbed your clit. With a loud cry, your orgasm washed over you, making your hips instinctively move forward. Joel tightened his hold on your hips, his fingers sure to leave bruises. "Not so fast, pretty girl," his voice starting to break as he thrust slowly, fucking you through your orgasm and letting himself hit his.

He let out a high-pitched groan as he came inside you, his long, thick ropes of cum filling your insides. He pulled out and idly fell back onto the couch. You lay there for a moment, basking in the feeling of his warm cum all over your cunt. 

"Go get cleaned up, my cum's dripping on the couch," Joel chuckled as he playfully pushed your legs off the couch. You stood up and walked to the bathroom, still trembling from the intensity of what just happened.

[chaoticloving]

new years, new family

harry styles x reader (SOH masterlist)

summary: y/n meets anne and gemma for the first time, and harry's just happy. || w/c: 2.2k

a/n: felt i should post a bit more before im back to class, enjoy and have a good new year!

Anne was an amazing mother. She was kind, empathetic, and had the strong will that helped her do what was right. Harry loved his mum too. Despite all the arguments and the fame, he has always had faith in her. He truly felt the love and comfort that a mother should give any child—and he still does to this day as an adult.

Anne prided on being someone her kids could go too if they needed an ear and always gave her kids space, but that didn’t stop her from being curious about their lives. She would sometimes sneak in a “do you like someone” or “when do you think you’ll have kids” every now and then, but they knew she just had their best interest at heart.

Anne was very careful about what she asked Harry though, not to say that she would be blunt with Gemma, but there were certain questions that would sound too much like a TMZ journalist asking questions. So, Anne would turn to Gemma to maybe slip some detail about Harry’s life.

The last time Gemma came around her mothers though, she did tell Anne that Harry’s got a crush that sort-of, maybe, turned into his girlfriend. “But don’t quote me on this. I don’t know for sure.” Gemma reminded her mother.

But Anne was bubbling with excitement. She knew the girlfriend in question is Y/n, the women Harry might of suitably alluded to having a crush on, and she couldn’t be more excited for her boy. She reminded herself though that she can’t be too pushy, but she can watch the young actresses movies.

After just under six months of dating, Harry decides he wants to tell his family.

“I know my mum won’t tell and Gemma will just make fun of me, I just don’t like keeping you a secret from everybody important in my life.” Harry confessed, kissing his lovers face all over as a way to win her over.

Y/n had a habit of overthinking, but seeing her boyfriends puppy dog eyes she just couldn’t say no.

“I believe you.” She kissed him back. “Just don’t embarrass me when you tell them.”

The next morning Harry was practically jumping from excitement, yet feeling like he needed the bathroom every five seconds from nerves. Harry knew his family wouldn’t hate Y/n or everything of the sort. It was just the fact they would be one of the first to know and their secret relationship wouldn’t be a secret anymore. He knew Y/n wasn’t just in it because of the the secrecy, but the fact still didn’t make him feel any better.

Harry powered through, and made the call.

The line rang a couple times before the cheery voice of Anne rang through. “Hi Honey, so good to hear from you!”

Harry laughed, walking around his London flat aimlessly. “It’s nice to talk to you too. Been feelin’ so busy from work that I think I’ll go crazy.”

“Oh no, well remember to take breaks and focus on you.” Anne thought this was her chance. “Do you have someone you can talk to or someone you feel comfortable with? Go out with them and forget about work.”

Harry blushed, he was in the kitchen and he could see the back of y/n. He thinks she is getting her morning coffee all ready as well as a cup for him.

“Yeah, actually, I’ve met someone.”

The pure joy running through Anne's body was something she last felt when Gemma told her about her last boyfriend.

"And is it who I think it is?"

"Have you been talkin' to Gemma recently?" Harry ask, false annoyance slipped through his voice. "But uh-" He cleared his throat. "Yeah, I think so. "

Anne practically screamed through the phone, excitement radiating though.

"But we are talking about Y/n, right?"

"Yes! Yes, oh my goodness, you finally are together! You two look so adorable together and I know to never buy into something TMZ or Daily Mail says but I saw your little photo and then when Gemma finally told me that you told her that you were talking to Y/n I started watching all of her movies so far and she is very talented, although, i have to admit, when she kissed that other boy in the movie I kept thinking how you would been feeling and--"

A couple seconds into her rant, Harry put Anne on speaker phone and was suffering from the adrenaline rushing though him. He was coming down from the high of fear and going into a tired yet happy state.

Y/n handed Harry a cup of coffee, half cream with a ton of sugar added in, then sat down next to him with her own coffee in hand. Y/n was trying to hide her smile through a look of embarrassment, but the actress couldn't quite hide her emotions from Harry.

Harry nudged Y/n, a smile on his rosey face. They look at each other with such adoration that it was sickening to anyone single.

"Harry? Harry, you still there?" Anne's voice snapped Harry from Y/n's trance on him.

"Yeah, I'm here mum." Harry chided, clearing his throat. "Just got a bit side tracked. What did you say?"

"When are you two coming over then? I know Gemma is coming round for new years so six could work, maybe five, or is that too early for new years?"

Y/n's eyes went wide with shock as she heard Anne's words then she could've sworn her heart stopped beating when Harry replied, as nonchalantly as ever, sure mum.

"Six'll work." Harry said, saying his goodbyes. He hung up his phone and smiled at Y/n. "You excited?"

"Definitely."

...

Y/n was not excited. Not in the slightest.

Y/n and Harry spent the holidays with their own families. They called each other, constantly; and much to Annes delight, and Gemma's partial annoyance, they've been hearing all about Y/n constantly. But a few day's after the holidays, they both met up at Harry's flat to make the journey to Anne's.

Currently, they were in Harry's Range Rover, close to Anne's house. They left a couple hours after Anne's call, knowing the drive is long and traffic would most likely be a nightmare. Harry has made the long drive quite a few times since he has moved to London, he knew it like the back of his hand; Y/n, while she hasn't made this specific drive, has gone on plenty of long trips in her life.

Yet, this drive, was pure torture.

She didn't want to tell Harry thats she is scared. She knows Harry would turn the car around and say it's no big deal, but he would be disappointed.

It wasn't like she didn't like what she has heard about his family, the opposite in fact. It's what they have heard about her.

Currently, the media is portraying Y/n as a serial dater, using someone for a night, or weekend if they're lucky, then dumping them and repeat. And poor Harry is the unconfirmed boyfriend that Y/n is dragging along for a long time.

They got all that from one group photo at a party last month.

It's not true. She knows it's not true, Harry knows it's not true, but does Anne and Gemma know it's not true? Anne invited her when there wasn't too much drama going on, but now? She was terrified for what would happen.

Y/n is just glad that it is just Gemma and Anne tonight, as much as she would want to meet Robin or Desmond, she can't deal with anymore people in one night.

"Okay so a couple tips." Harry started, turning down the volume of the song on the radio, Fleetwood Mac obviously. "One, don't ask Gemma if she is dating someone unless you want her to give you a silent treatment."

She nodded.

"Don't mention fame or anything too out of touch. Not really specific, just general advice because my mum always scoffs at people who flaunt their money."

"You say this in your custom two-hundred-thousand car." Y/n joked, trying to keep her cool.

"I got teased a bit." Harry shrugs, flipping the indicator and turning down a neighborhood. "But that's just teasing."

Harry sighs as he pulls to the side of the road in front of a nice house. It was cozy, yet big enough for a couple and a guest or two. "Ready?"

"Nothing else?"

"Not really sure." Harry fidgeted. "You're the first they would or could meet so..."

Y/n just nods as Harry's voice trails off, it's all she can do. Their thoughts mimic each other.

She's meeting her future in-laws.

I'm meeting my future in-laws.

The only difference was the tone. Excitement and fear.

Harry walked round to the other side, opening her door and holding his hand to help her out. Y/n felt like the paparazzi was watching her, but instead of flashing lights it was curtains suspiciously moving.

Harry knocked on the door, hand in a death grip with Y/n's. "Deep breaths. They're going to love you."

"Harry!" Anne swung open the door and smiled, when she looked over she saw Y/n, causing her to smile brighter and nearly bring tears to the women's eyes. "Y/n! I'm so glad you're here. Come in come in!"

Y/n had her red carpet smile on. She was carful to not make her smile look too obnoxious, but not like she was not excited to be here.

"Ms Twist you're house is beautiful." She complemented, earning her first awe of the night.

"Please, call me Anne." She blushed. "And thank you sweetheart."

"Where's Gem?" Harry asked, taking his shoes off and brushing his hand on Y/n's.

"Living room. She's on the phone with someone." She winked and walked into the house. "Come in, I've got some nibbles for you two."

Y/n mouthed, someone?. Harry just rolled his eyes and mouthed, "ex." She nodded and followed Harry into the the house.

"Gemma get off the phone." They heard Anne yell. "Say hi to the couple."

Gemma’s jaw dropped as she hugged Harry. She saw Y/n and her smile grew. "You're the famous Y/n we've been hearing about!"

Y/n nervously laughed but nodded, excepting the hug happily. Harry sighed thought, face turning a shade of pink. "It's so nice to meet you!" Y/n was smiling. Their first impressions were so far good. They seemed excited to meet her, and Y/n was able to breath finally now.

"Not long until midnight, so I've got to get going on the dinner." Anna decided.

"Let me help!" Y/n jumped at the opportunity to get to know Anne and get in her good graces. Following her to the kitchen and leaving the siblings behind.

"Mum's going to love her." Gemma whispered to Harry, shoving his shoulder. Harry just blushed, happy that his girlfriend is getting along with his family.

~

Midnight struck, cheers and hugs were done, and a sneaky kiss between the two young and in love celebrities were shared. Anne was tired, so the rest decided to retire to their rooms for the night. Harry took their two bags up to the stairs and revealed the small room that housed talented singer: Harry Styles.

It had grey walled with posters hung all around. As Y/n looked closer behind the records and old CDs tapped to the wall, she found a poorly covered up dent in the wall. "What's this?"

"Something that will definitely give my mum a heart attack." Harry smiled, dropping the bags. "Was playing with some of my friends and one "accidentally" threw a nerf gun at me."

"Sounds fun." She mused, continuing to look around the room. "Seems like your music taste has not changed." Y/n noticed the Joni Mitchell collection, right next to the Stevie Nicks one.

"Nope." Harry sighed, standing next to his girlfriend, but she could sense the smile forming on his face. "I'm glad I threw out all of those porno mags."

"So thoughtful." Y/n pushed Harry away as he laughed. Harry grabbed her and threw themselves onto the small, twin sized bed that had superman sheets on.

"Superman? At sixteen?" She asked.

"Hey, don't hate on superman." Harry defends. "These sheets are too comfy to get rid of."

They laugh a bit more, settling slowly into the silence that the small room gives them. They can hear Gemma talking to someone through the wall, though they don't mind--they're too wrap up in themselves to care.

"Think your family likes me?" She asked.

"Oh definitely. You're much better then any guy Gemma brought round." Harry remarked. "Plus mum loves you loads, it's really easy to see. She doesn't just offer her special margaritas to anyone."

"I'm glad." Is all Y/n says. She's tired now, a long stressful day of nerves really washed her out, but thankfully, she's got an amazing boyfriend to sleep next to.

"I'm glad you got to meet them." Harry admits. "No way you can break up with me now. Mum'll miss you too much."

"I'd miss her too. Not that I'd ever want to break up with you."

Harry kissed her sweetly, "Good, because I'd never do that too. Wouldn't even think of it."

[homelanderbutbig]

A Big Little Baby In Your Lap (G/T Homelander x Reader)

1575 words. Pure fluff. Homelander is 8 feet tall. Reader is non-descriptive. Established relationship.

Homelander is sulking because he wants head scratches but your couch is too small for him.

You and Homelander have been dating for a few months, relishing in the moments you are able to spend together following him around as his 'personal assistant'. But this meager quality time wasn't enough for him, and next thing you knew you were getting your own private office. Not so much because you needed one, but so the two of you could spend more time alone, away from the spying eyes at Vought.

Your office is nothing special, but it's spacious enough for a desk to work from, and for a couch that Homelander was adamant on you having. Although one would assume that it's for meetings with your 'boss', it's really just so he can cuddle with you whenever he wants. But currently you only have a regular human-sized couch; Ashley had to order a custom one built for his size, which is taking time to complete.

One day while you are typing away on your laptop, your door flies open as Homelander storms into your office. He makes sure to lock the door behind him before he starts pacing angrily in front of your desk.

"I work with the most incompetent bunch of fuckwits imaginable," he snarls, gesturing wildly at nobody in particular. He has been working himself up into a state, and he needs to tell someone about it. "It's like they don't even think of how their fuck-ups effect me. My ratings. MY image."

Realizing you aren't going to be getting any more work done at the moment, you sigh and close your laptop. You keep your eyes on him as you stand up out of your chair, walking over to lean on the front of your desk. It's not really worth interrupting him when he's in the middle of a rant, even if you have no idea who he's talking about. You'd rather let him get it all out of his system.

During his tirade he happens to look over at your couch. Homelander finally stops his pacing as he lets out an aggravated breath, nearly sounding like a growl. He came into your office so you could snuggle with him and soothe his worries, expecting that Ashley would've gotten off her ass to ensure the new couch would have been built by now. Instead, he is again let down by everyone he puts an ounce of faith in.

"A-and they still haven't finished the fucking couch?!" he scoffs, all of this disappointment is starting to be too much for him to handle. His eyes twitch uncontrollably even when he squeezes them shut, while his breathing becoming more ragged. "I-I'm going to kill Ashley. I-I-I'm going to f-fucking KILL her."

"Hey, hey, hey," you say, coming closer to him to press your hands onto his thighs. His stuttering is a dead giveaway that he is overwhelmed, and it's your cue to step in. "It's okay honey," you console him, putting more pressure on his legs to redirect his focus back onto you. "Give me your hands."

Not wanting to lose control of himself in front of you, Homelander does his best to rein in his temper like you taught him with deep breaths through his nose. He brings his hands down for you to hold, feeling himself relax slightly once your precious fingers entwine with his own.

"Why don't you come lie down with me?" you ask, guiding him to walk over to the couch with you. Although he very easily could, he does nothing to fight against your gentle directions. "It looks like you need a break right now."

"I won't… I won't fit," he grumbles, staring down but avoiding eye contact with you.

"We'll make it work. Trust me," you reassure him, letting go of his hands to take your place at the end of the couch. He watches uneasily as you pat the cushion next to you, encouraging him to lie down.

Tensing his jaw, Homelander swallows hard from his building anxiety. Hesitantly, he steps over to the couch and tries to position himself so he can rest his head on your lap. However, he can't get comfortable on this tiny piece of furniture. His shoulders are scrunched up because they are too wide for the cushion, leaving him awkwardly holding his arms up to his chest. His legs are too long so his knees are bent overtop of the armrest, letting his feet touch the floor.

"Th-this isn't working!" he grumbles frustratedly, stumbling through his words. He can feel himself getting riled up again; nothing ever works out right for him. "I-I…I-I'm too big."

"Shhhh, shhhhh," you hush as you start petting Homelander's hair, which is surprisingly soft despite the product he uses. "Everything's alright sweetheart."

He calms almost instantly from your delicate contact, but you can sense he is still holding onto some stress, like there is something else that he is after. Something he's trying to be discreet about, but unfortunately for him, you can read him like a book.

"I think a certain supe is hoping for something," you sing playfully, using your index finger to follow along the contour of his ear. Chills run down his spine from your tantalizing touch; even though he hates how easily you can figure him out, he wouldn't trade this unspoken connection with you for anything in the world.

You chuckle when Homelander fixes his gaze on you, failing to hide the anticipation bleeding through his body language. His eyes are glued wide open, his lips are trembling… he is wringing his hands together and bouncing one of his legs off the ground.

"I don't knooow…" you tease, using your index finger to lightly scratch behind his ear. He whines at your bewitching tactility, quickly losing what little composure he was holding onto.

"Ple… p-please," he begs, looking like he is about to cry as he rubs his head pathetically into your chest. You know you shouldn't be so cruel to him when he's this vulnerable with you, but sometimes you can't help yourself. He's just so cute when he's like this, a big little baby in your lap.

Gracefully, you use your nails to glide along Homelander's undercut, redirecting ever so often to scratch the sweet spots on his scalp that you know he loves. He quickly unravels from your touch, whimpering and moaning at your god-given expertise. He closes his eyes while your intimate caresses take over all of his senses, becoming his sole reason for existing.

"Mmmmm…" he purrs, leaning his head further into your upper body. You can feel yourself vibrating from the low rumblings coming from him. Every little noise he makes resonates straight through to your core, enhanced even moreso by him burying his face as close into you as possible.

Homelander finally repositions his arms from his chest, letting one drop audibly to the ground while the other lifts up to grip the back of the couch. At first he tries to keep his strength in check, but you seem keen on making him fall apart at the seams with each drag of your fingers. Slowly but surely, you hear the all too familiar sound of the couch's wooden frame splitting under his hand as he becomes consumed by your affection. He's lucky that you're getting a new couch anyways, otherwise he'd be getting quite a scolding for wrecking your office furniture.

As much as you'd like to do this for him longer, you notice on your wall clock how much time has passed since he first barged into your office. He has an interview scheduled in a half an hour, and as his personal assistant, you need him to be ready and on-time.

Gingerly, you stop your scratches to give Homelander a light tap on his temples. He slowly opens his eyes to look up at you, entirely glazed over from how docile you've made him.

"See? I told you we'd make it work," you remark, planting a kiss on his forehead.

With a faint hum of acknowledgement, he gives you a soft smile in thanks before nuzzling his head back into you. All he really wants now is to rest, listening to your heart rhythmically beating a steadfast melody just for his ears.

"But we both have to get going soon, sweetie," you comment, rolling your eyes. You tap his head again to indicate you haven't quite made your point yet. "We have to be on the set of the Cameron Coleman Hour in thirty minutes."

That jolts Homelander out of his contentment pretty fast. You can see how upset he is to hear that your cuddle session has come to an end, but he isn't one to neglect his schedule. Instead, he decides to conclude your 'meeting' by returning the love you've given him.

Before you can react, he envelops you in his arms and stands back up to his full height. You laugh as he peppers your face with kisses; your nose, cheeks, ears, forehead… he makes sure no part is left unloved. He concludes his appreciation with a heartfelt kiss on your lips, taking in your warmth just as you melt into his. You always make him feel so loved, and he can never put into words how happy it makes him to see you have the same reaction… like you really understand him.

After his interview with Cameron Coleman, Homelander makes sure Ashley gets that new couch in your office the next day.

[josiesullysblog]

Don’t Leave Me.

~AGED UP Neteyam x Na’vi reader

~Angst, fluff?

~Proofread?-no

~Summary-Y/n grew up in a home with conditional love.

***

Your parents didn't love each other. Everyone believed they did, it was all a facade it seems you were the only one to notice. You noticed first when you were seven it was after you saw your friend's parents kiss. “Why don’t you kiss mama?” you asked your father as he got you ready for bed.

“Your mother is not faithful honey,” he smiled as he pets your head, ���she brings special friends here who daddy don't like,” you frowned, “but it’s okay because daddy has friends as well,” you titled your head, “why?”

“That doesn't concern you, now you can't tell anyone about her friends,” you nodded, “good because if you did me and mama could get into a lot of trouble and they’d take you away,” you shook your head as you hugged, ‘i don't wanna live!”

“You won’t pretty baby, just make sure not to say anything,” you nodded as he laid you down to sleep. At the time, you didn't understand what he meant by special friends but as you become older you caught on.

“Honey come to meet my friend!” your mother dragged you to meet an older man. He smiled at you which made you uncomfortable, “don't be rude say hi,” your mother faked a laugh, “hi,” you gave a small wave.

The man just laughed before pulling your mom away, your father barely touched your mother the way this man did, “honey you can't tell daddy my friend came over,” your mother stumbled to where you sat, “why?”

She laughed before rolling, “because he’d get so mad and you don't want to see us fight?” you just looked at your feet, “your father has so many standards you know,” she made you look at her, “right before we had you we were so in love, he loved me,” she stood up walking a little way in front of you.

“But after you, he became distant he barely even held you so I confronted him,” her voice broke as she spoke, “he told me he could barely stare at me because I was ugly and that having you was a mistake,” tears swelled in your eyes, “if you ever wonder why we don't love each other it's because of you, [Y/n].”

You shook your head, “daddy loves me,” you sobbed as your mother grabbed your chin, “and he loved me too, till you came now he can't even look at me,” she threw you on the floor. “You were the worst thing to happen to me.” with that she left you crying on the floor.

She’d say cruel things like that to you all the time, she’d always make remarks about your body, or how you should act if you expect to find a mate, and the older you became the harsher her words.

But outside, it was a different story. Your parents hugged, and they laughed together it was almost like they were two different people, “smile,” your mother whispered in your ears while pinching you. You smiled, you had no other choice your father may have looked happy to everyone else but you could tell he wanted to leave.

He wasn't a party person that was your mother, your father enjoyed spending time with small groups of people. You took after him in this aspect.

At these parties, you never knew where he’d go. He would be there in the beginning and then disappear till it was time to go. One time you wandered away from the party, it was boring and the Sully kids weren't there.

You kept walking till you heard laughter, you followed it then you saw it. A woman sat on your father's lap, she kissed him to which he gladly accepted. You stepped back which made a loud sound causing everyone's heads to turn. You sprinted back not caring to look back to see if your father would try to explain himself.

“I’m not feeling well,” you tapped your mother's shoulder as she spoke with her friends, “you can head back it's okay,” you walked home and cried yourself to sleep. That day you learned what a special friend really was.

If there were to be a ranking system, your family would fall closely under the Sullys.

You played with the Sully kids here and there, but they were far too busy as you all grew up to play with anyone as they were stuck with chores or “duties.” But that didn't stop the attraction you felt for Neteyam. You were scared to get into a relationship with him.

What if he fell out of love with you? What if he decided one day he wanted a special friend? All these thoughts clogged your head so you never did much about your crush.

The fear of ending up as your parents haunted you, unhappy and forced to live with someone who hates your guts.

“Hey [Y/n]!” you smiled and waved, “Hello Neteyam!” he was so nice. He always made time out of his day to talk with you. If you were ever in a group setting, he took extra steps to make you were heard and alright. Your heart couldn't help but beat faster because of him.

You wanted to be with him, but how would you know if he was faithful to you? What ifs flagged your mind it became to the point you couldn't do your chores. “She’s so lazy it's actually shocking she’s even mine,” your mother snickers with her friends.

You just ignored her, there was no point in speaking up she’d just attack you more. You prayed to Ewya that one day you’d be taken away from this place you called home, you prayed and you prayed. But it felt like you weren't being answered.

“Just make a move on her already,” Lo’ak groaned as Neteyam stared at you. “She’s always in her own world I don't even think she’ll say yes.” Neteyam has loved you since forever and it felt like you barely even looked his way. “You won't know till you try.”

His brother was right, but he didn't know how to approach you. You always had something to do, and he didn't want to just pop the question. You’d obviously say no, and he didn't want to scare you off.

He has never felt like this for someone before. The feeling that you want to spend every waking moment with them, that you want to see them with your children happy and playing together all these feelings were new to him.

So, he decided to take it slow. He slowly started inserting himself into your schedule, you had to help carry boxes? Don't worry Neteyam does too! This way he is able to get close to you but also not make it seem weird or awkward.

His plan worked the two of you became close, constantly having inside jokes, always around each other it was all working out perfect for him.

If you were scared before you were now petrified. The more time you spent with Neteyam the more you felt yourself falling in love with him. It was upsetting because you believed you had the same fate as your mother.

“We all end up like our parents,” it was a phrase thrown around so easily and for some, it might've been a blessing but for you it sounded like a curse.

To end up as that woman sounded like hell, so if you had to die alone to avoid that outcome, you would.

It was a hard pill to chew, give up happiness but you didn't know what else to do, “you know I pity your mate,” your mother laughed as she ate, “he must be drunk the day you two get together.”

You had enough of her bullying, her degrading words, she was your mother she was supposed to uplift you and make you feel safe and wanted and she has done the opposite.

You looked at her teary-eyed, “why do you hate me so much,” it was becoming too much, her words, her everything you could only take so much. “Oh, you always rub it in my face how i’m going to die alone or how I look, if it isn't one thing it's another why?” she only looked at you.

She walked over to you before smacking you across the face, “I don't know who you think you're raising your voice at because it's not me.” you held your cheek before running out.

You were fed up if that was even the right term to express your anger. You stomped across the forest before you stumbled upon the person you wanted to avoid, Neteyam.

“[Y/n]! I haven't seen you in forever!” he smiled as he ushered you closer, “we saw each other this morning,” you faked a smile, “which was ages ago!”

You laughed, it was genuine though he had this thing where he could light a room up. You wish you had a fraction of his happiness. You knew of his hardships, you understood why he was so mature even though you two were barely twenty.

“What's on your pretty little mind?” He smiled at you as he watched the stars you giggled, “why are you out here so late?”

The boy shrugged, “just wanted to see the stars,” you nodded at his answer, “I probably should head back,” Neteyam did not want to leave.

He wanted to rest here with you and talk but he promised his parents he’d watch over his sister.

A panic overcame you, it was instant and you didn't know why. Your heart rate picked up, “you should stay longer and watch the sky!”

He wasn't your mate, but you just felt this pull that he needed to be here with you. You couldn't explain lit in words.

He smiled looking at them, “I’d love to but I have to,” an excuse. Your mother always had one right before she left to see her friends.

What if Neteyam had a special friend and you spent too much time thinking if you wanted to be with him? “Are you sure? I bet they wouldn't notice if you were gone for ten minutes.”

Neteyam smiled that you wanted to hang out, I want to believe-,” you cut him off, “I can cook,” his head turned to look at you, “what?”

“I can cook, clean, heal, and hunt,” you stood up looking at him, “I can sew, I can carry heavy weights, and-,” he stopped you, “why are you saying this?”

Your eyes welled up, he did have someone else it didn't matter what you had or what you could do, “I can do anything you ask of me Neteyam,” you sobbed as he pulled you into a hug, “please, please don't leave me!”

His eyes widen, “[Y/n], I promise I’d never leave you,” he didn't know where this came from, “I like you, I’d never dream of hurting you.”

He went to go pick up your face and when he touched you, your face winced. He moved your face a little letting your cheek hit the sun. A bruise appeared and Neteyam’s eyes became hooded, he didn't care that he had to watch his sister. He wanted to know who would raise their hand to hit you.

“Who hit you?” you backed up a little touching your cheek, “it was nothing I-,” Neteyam came closer grabbed your hand, and kissed it, “I don't want to ask you again.”

You looked at him, he looked different not the warm boy you saw just minutes ago, “[Y/n], who the fuck hit you?”

***

Heyyyy!! Guys I ain't be able to write till Saturday :( but if I can find time I’ll definitely try! Hope you enjoy love you all!!!!

[jisforjudi2]

THE FAITHFUL SECRETARY

Chicago Tribune

UPDATED: August 10, 2021 at 12:23 a.m.

Before the women’s movement, back when Father knew best and network TV made room for Daddy, when Mary Tyler Moore was Laura Petrie, not Mary Richards, actress Barbara Hale was playing a single working woman on TV.

Hale, now 71, remembers what appealed to her about the role of Della Street, secretary to lawyer Perry Mason on the series that was based on the mysteries by Erle Stanley Gardner.

“When we started (in 1956), it was the beginning of women not working at home. I liked that she was not married. My husband didn’t have to see me every week married to another man, and our children didn’t have to see me mothering other children.

“When (my son) Billy was in the 1st grade, we went to school for the first parent meeting, and on his desk were little projects he’d made-pictures of Daddy and Mommy and his sister and his animals. And underneath my picture-I wish I had it now, but the teacher kept it-he’d written in inch-high block letters, `This is my mom. I love her. She is a secretary.”‘

On Friday, the latest Perry Mason two-hour movie, “The Case of the Telltale Talk Show Host,” will air on NBC, one of seven productions that will carry the courtroom stalwart and his unflappable Girl Friday into 1994.

“I guess I was just meant to be a secretary who doesn’t take shorthand,” she quips. “My assistant wants you to know I’m a lousy typist too-33 words a minute!”

The Emmy award-winning actress is a Hollywood survivor-going into her second half-century in a profession she never dreamed of pursuing. A veteran of the old studio system and of television’s infancy, her co-stars in those early years were household names-Sinatra and Cagney and Stewart and Mitchum-when she was the ingenue.

RKO Studios was her “paid education,” as she puts it, her training ground. She met her husband, actor Bill Williams (who died several months ago), over coffee at the studio commissary.

Today, she still offers ample evidence of the effervescent beauty she was in the ’40s and ’50s-and even earlier, in Rockford High School, when her buddies entered her in a May Queen contest and she won. “I still know them, dear, and we 15 get together every three years. It takes three years to get over the three days we spend together!”

Her career seems to have evolved from being on the right Chicago street corner at the right time.

The daughter of a Rockford horticulturist and a homemaker, Hale (born in DeKalb) was studying at the Chicago Academy of Fine Arts, living at the Harriet M. McCormick branch of the YWCA and planning a career as a commercial illustrator and portraitist.

One day, as school let out for the summer, she was standing at the corner near the Drake Hotel with a girlfriend who’d come to town for a couple of weeks to look for modeling work. While they were waiting for the bus taking them to the North Side, a car drove up and someone tossed a card at them. It referred them to a modeling agency.

“A couple of weeks later, I went to see my buddies, and I told one of them the story about the card,” she recalls.

“She said, `Barb, you’re kidding! I was sitting in the little coffee shop at work this morning, and a lady came in and sat next to me, because it was the only seat left. She was pouting. I asked if she had a problem, and she said, “Yes, darn it. I have a model agency and I saw this kid on a corner, in a red coat, and can’t track her down. She’s exactly what one of our ad agencies is looking for.” Barb, what coat did you have on that day?

“I said, `My red coat-it’s the only coat I have.’ And she said, `Barb, I think that card was meant for you.”‘

It was. Hale went in to the Seaman Agency, and stopped Connie Seaman in her tracks. “She said, `Oh, my God-honey, don’t move! Al, get over here quick!’ Al came in and said, `It is her! Let’s see-we’ll shape her eyebrows, put on a little more lipstick, pull her hair back … ‘ and I said, `Just a minute, sir-what are we talking about?”‘

Hale was “a green 19” when she began fashion modeling, and after about a year and a half, RKO offered her a six-month tryout. The day after she arrived in Los Angeles, she visited the studio and its casting director, Dick Stockton.

“As I was shaking hands with him, the phone rang. He took the call, and as he listened, he started looking at me. `Yeah, yeah, yeah, just a minute.’ He turned to me and asked, `Honey, can you say a line?’ I said, `I don’t know.’ He said into the phone, `There’s a kid in the office right now. I think she’ll work. I’ll send her right over.’ He told his assistant, `Take her to wardrobe, take her to makeup, take her to Stage 6. One of the kids is sick. We’ve got to have a girl there immediately.’

“It hit every paper the next day. Cinderella story. First day on the lot, she gets-of course they said a starring part. I had one line, but you know about those things.”

Apart from that walk-on, in “Gildersleeve’s Bad Day,” she made her debut in 1944 in “Higher and Higher,” opposite Frank Sinatra.

Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz, Ginger Rogers and Jane Russell were all at RKO then. So was Burr-who would be her TV series co-star about a dozen years later.

Hale studied dancing and singing at the studio. She began to appear on screen regularly-four movies in 1944, two in 1945-and eventually won leads in such movies as “The Boy With Green Hair,” “The Window,” “Jolson Sings Again” and “The Jackpot,” performing even while pregnant.

“I told Billy (her son, actor William Katt, who starred in the television series “The Greatest American Hero”) he should put on his resume that he was in `The Jackpot’ and `Lorna Doone,’ and he said, `Mother, I wasn’t,’ and I told him, `Oh, yes, you were!”‘

She continued her movie career and was a mainstay of television dramas until 1956, when a producer offered her the Della Street part in the pilot of what turned out to be a 9 1/2-year run. Hale went on to win an Emmy for best dramatic actress for the role in 1959.

“We did 36 shows that first year,” she says. “And we’re still doing it!”

She says that Della “was-and still is, to a great degree-a woman who knew what everybody was thinking. She was informed, and very observant of everything that went on. That was my challenge as an actress-to be a necessary part of the office without being too aggressive. Della was quietly overpowering: She knew when to speak and when to keep her mouth closed.”

Hale sees Della as having remained constant, to an extent. Her task is basically the same. But there have been some subtle emotional changes.

“I think she’s a little more at home, relaxed, showing her knowledge not only of the case, but also of her boss. In the early days, it was all business. Today there’s more of a camaraderie between them, a little more humor and more sensitivity to each other, which comes with years of being side by side.

“She’s trying to see that he stays healthy,” she says. “She’s taking him off coffee.

After nearly 300 episodes, “Perry Mason” folded in 1966.

In the mid-1970s, the show returned briefly with other actors and faded quickly. During the ’70s and early ’80s, Hale worked sporadically. She was in the original “Airport” in 1970, and appeared opposite her son in a 1978 surfing movie, “Big Wednesday.”

In 1985, producer Dean Hargrove asked her what she thought of the idea of a “Perry Mason” reunion show. She told him, “it would be divine, but we are 25 or 30 years older than we were then.” He said the intention was to use them as they were and to bring in a few new young actors to replace cast members William Talman, Ray Collins and William Hopper, who had died.

“Dean said, `There’s a young blond kid in town. I want to talk to him, not his agent. He’s done a series-“The Greatest American Hero.” But I can’t reach him.’

“I said, `Oh, well, that young man is in Kansas City doing “The Music Man” right now, and I can get you in touch with him if you want.’ And Dean asked, `You know him?’ I said, `Dean, I changed that boy’s diapers!’ Billy played in the first nine (Perry Mason) movies, then went on to another series of his own.”

“Perry Mason Returns” in 1985 was a Nielsen triumph, and with Perry stepping down from a judgeship to defend Della against murder charges in the first episode. From then on, the Mason bunch have visited America’s living rooms every few months.

After nearly four decades, Hale says the role of Della still offers unexpected moments.

“This week, at the end of the show, very quietly and very surprisingly, Perry plants one on Della,” Hale says. “It’s a first!”

Originally Published: May 16, 1993 at 1:00 a.m.

www.chicagotribune.com/1993/05/16/the-faithful-secretary/

[i-heart-yellowstone]

4 - Dutton’s and Lambert’s

Part 5

Raised Fair Share Of Hell

If y'all got any ideas for this especially moments with Alissa and Rip send them to my ask box 🤗

Tag list - @bvbwestfall @hcwthewestwaswcn @child-of-of-the-sunshine @elenavampire21 @keep-the-wolves-close

Standing in front of Lee’s freshly dug headstone and empty grave that he would be put in a few minutes later. I was wearing a short sleeve black dress that went down to my knees. “Alissa.” Opening my eyes I slowly glanced over my shoulder watching my husband walking up to me.

“What is it, Kace?” I questioned him when he finally stopped to stand beside me. He was wearing a full black suit, white shirt and a white tea shirt underneath with his dusty black Cowboy hat.

“How’s your ankle in that boot?”

My gaze lowered down to my left ankle in a doctor's boot that the hospital had told me I would have to wear for a while. “I’ll get used to it.” I answered his question not liking it but was thankful the surgery to remove the bullet didn’t go horribly wrong.

“That’s not what I’m asking. I don’t want you putting too much on it to be here today.”

Grasping his hand in mine I rubbed my thumb over the black wedding band on his left hand. “Kayce, I want to be here. For you and your family. Y’all have known me my entire life. Besides, Lee was like a brother to me. I need to say goodbye to him.”

“How did I get so lucky with you, Ms. Lambert?” Kayce asked, cradling the side of my face in his freehand.

Reaching down inside the front of my dress I drew out the necklace chain I wore with my wedding ring on it. “That’s Mrs. Dutton to you, Kayce John. And you got so lucky cause we’re best friends.” I decided to wear it mostly as a necklace too worried I’d lose the ring that meant so much to me.

“Looks like it’s time.” He squeezed my hand in his seeing the casket being brought close by one of the trucks. He removed his hand from mine, walking over and being a pull bear for his brother alongside John , Rip and a few other ranch hands.

The casket was set up and lowered into the ground before I noticed John walk up and stand in front of it. Each family member went up to say their goodbye leaving me and Faith the last to go. “I'm gonna miss you, Uncle Lee. Thanks for my birthday present - and I hope you are running a beautiful ranch up in the sky.” She laid some flowers over his casket stepping back crying into her father's jacket.

Lee had gotten her a tiny horse necklace for her birthday with the money that his father paid him.

“Hey, Lee. First off I - um I want to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry that this happened to you when I could've stopped it.” I felt some tears welling up in my ears and I gripped my ring necklace for strength. “I know I shouldn't put the weight on myself but I am because - because I'm going to miss you so much. I'm gonna miss you and my sister pretending like there's not a spark between you two. I'm going to miss you being Faith's favorite uncle. I'm going to miss our flour fights at 2am. Lee - I'm gonna miss you. But don't you worry I am going to make sure your name and memory aren't forgotten.”

Kayce’s hand touched my shoulder softly. “Alissa - easy now. I've got you - I've got uou honey.” I spun around throwing myself into his chest and he wrapped his arms around my shaking body. We just held each other for a little while until everyone slowly made their way back to the main house.

Gator had prepared dinner for both of our families to enjoy for the next couple of days. The sun was setting over the Dutton Ranch when I went to find my sister Alana standing on the front porch by herself. Pushing the door opened I walked outside. “What are you doing out here, sis?”

“Just needed some air. Today's been - rough. How are you doing?” She asked me rolling her shoulders before dropping them.

I came over leaning my elbows on the wooden porch railing. “Pretty much the same. Faith, just says she wants him back for her birthday. I actually told her that we'd celebrate somehow once all this dies down but she has to understand he's not coming back.”

“It sucks that she misses him so much.” Alana glanced at me, seeing my wedding ring dangling from my neck. “You know who's wedding ring that is right?”

“Yeah.”

She pressed on clasping her hands together. “And did you know that Lee proposed to me with that exact ring?”

“What! Why are you just telling me this now? Have you two been secretly married this whole time?”

She touched my hand seeing that I was getting worked up over her bombshell of news. “Let me explain. First off nobody in either of our families knew about it. We were going to announce it until the day you came home and told us you were pregnant. So Lee and I talked it over and he decided it was best for you and his brother to get married and raise the baby together more than that ring would benefit us at the time.”

“Alana, I - why didn't you tell me sooner?” I felt slightly heartbroken that she gave up her marriage to Lee Dutton for me.

She intertwined our hands together giving me a weak smile. “Because you were going through a lot. Dad was pissed and mom was busy preparing for the baby so it just didn't seem right.”

“So I was right all along about you and Lee?” I asked with a hopeful yet shocked smile on my face.

She nodded her head yes. “We just weren't so obvious the way you and Kayce were - better yet still are today.”

“We are not!” I scolded her.

My sister smirked. “It's nothing to be ashamed of if you want to climb into bed with him. You're already married anyhow.”

“Alana!” I turned my face away, blushing slightly, clearing my throat. “But you two still could have gotten married and had kids for both ranches. So why didn't you?”

She shrugs her shoulders in response. “Didn't ever seem like the right thing for us. Lee and I never wanted to talk about that since that's all our daddy's wanted to talk about.”

“God gave me two daughters and no sons so I'm gonna need them to give me some grandbabies to keep this land of ours.” I did the best impression of my father as I could, still deeply loving him.

Alana was in agreement with me. “We just wanted to enjoy the pressure being off of us, especially the day you got pregnant. You're my little sister so I did what was best for you even though it was making me lose some happiness.”

“I'm sorry.” I wrapped my arms around her in a hug and she hugged me back sniffing through some tears of her own.

“It's okay, Lissa. I was right about something though with our families.” She broke the hug slightly seeing confusion written on my face until she finished her sentence. “I guess Dutton’s and Lambert’s were always meant to go together.”

A few days after the funeral I was walking to the barn to saddle my horse so I could take Faith on a ride yet I halted in my tracks outside the door hearing Jamie and John discussing something inside. “Did they identify Kayce?”

“Not yet.”

“Who are the agents we're talking about?” John asked him.

Jamie responded. “It's, uh, Tom Reynolds and Aaron McReary.”

“Reynolds I can deal with.” He admits. “I don't know this McReary.”

“Yeah, he lives in the south end of the valley. Word is he likes his religion.”

John questioned his son. “As in "won't tell a lie" likes it?”

“Yeah, that would be my guess.”

“Find out where he goes to church. Anything else? Anything else? You said there were a few.”

“The medical examiner's report. You're not gonna like it.” Jamie began explaining.

“Who else has seen the report?” John pressed on for answers.

“The only ones who have seen it want it to change.”

My father in law muttered. “Then it'll change.”

“It means they're doctors. Which means they took an oath, and it wasn't to you. No matter what we do, the photographs won't change. The body won't change. It'll tell the same story - to anybody who looks.” Jamie snapped back at him mentioning some good points.

“The body's buried, Jamie. Relax.” John walked up near his son’s face.

Jamie tried to make him understand. “Yeah, but when they see the report…”

“When they see the report, what? You think I'm just gonna let them dig up my son?” John getting closer up in his face.

He explained to him with a heavy sigh. “When they see the report, they won't ask. They're just gonna do it, Dad. I think we should…”

John held a hand up to him. “No, don't say it.”

“I think we should beat them to it.”

John stomped forward shoving his son against one of the horse stalls behind him staying in his face. “All right, don't say it. Don't even think it.”

“Kayce shot him in the forehead while he laid on his back.” Jamie declares while I felt a nervous tightness in my chest form at his words, remembering the incident all too well.

John growled in his face in disbelief. “We don't know it was Kayce.”

“He was executed. Five bullets in a circle, like this. Name the livestock officer who could do that.” Jamie asked him the question John and I both feared he would say, pointing to his round lawyer badge on his shirt.

Turning my attention away from the door I threaded my fingers into my hair, beginning to feel powerless in this situation. “What are we gonna do, Kayce?”

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[twopoppies]

hei Gina, im here to asking you a very stupid question tbh but do you think that soon or later we’ll be able to know something about Larry and their life?

I want to explain better so, since I joined this fandom (2011) I’ve always thought that sooner or later H&L would come out. Over the years, there have been so many moments when I thought, ‘Okay, they’ll do it soon,’ but in the end, it all fizzled out and it never happened.

Recently, my faith in this coming out has faded. I mean, at this point, I think they probably never will. I’ve become quite pessimistic about it, especially now after what came out about Syco and lifetime contracts. It makes me really sad, I wish I could be as optimistic as I was when I was younger and hope that one day it will happen and that they’ll be free to do it.

So what do you think about that?

Lots of love to you xxxx

Hi honey. It’s not stupid at all. I’ve actually shared questions like this dozens of times.

Take a look through my CURRENT THOUGHTS ON LARRY tag and you’ll probably find an answer at least once or twice there.

In a nutshell, I think their priorities have changed as life has changed. I think they are okay, at this stage, with the general population not having absolute confirmation on their relationship or their sexualities. I do think they’ll be out at some point in the future. But I doubt it will be some big People Magazine moment and I doubt it will happen anytime very soon.

For those of us that were here when them wanting us to know was so obvious, and they seemed to be headed for a loud coming out, it can be hard to adjust our expectations. At the end of the day, I just remind people (and myself) that it’s their lives, not a game with a specific ending we’re wanting to achieve. You know?

💗