#I see him advancing so far in so little time because he just doesn't have any friends

[hyacinth-in-a-haze]

On my your yander witch x reader one was so cute I loved it!! Would love to see them living their domestic little life together now (something poor reader desperately deserves considering the household she comes from 😭)

Absolutely I can do that for you Anon!

Domestic life with the woodswitch

You can't leave the cottage. Only going so far as to the garden fence before your mind fogs over and you find yourself inside with the door closed. But he only ever smiles at your attempted transgressions, like when you'd watch your younger cousins pack their toys and declare their to run away before they turn back indoors once they forgot why they wanted to leave. He spends most of the day doing that, observing you in his home, like every interaction is something amusing.

But you have free reign over most of the home, anything he has deemed too dangerous, your body does not allow you to enter. But for the most, he allows you to just exist in his space, slowly becoming used to it as yours as well.

It's not as though he leaves you alone, doing most of his work from inside the house. You'd watch with wary eyes as he'd mix herbs together until he started narrating what he was doing for you.

“It's a drought for a customer with restless sleep. Chamomile and lavender mainly for peace.”

The familiar scents remind you of the warm tea he gives you before bed with a kiss on your head. Or the morning mixture afterwards, a bitter swampy concoction he pushes to your mouth. Cooing as you complain about the taste, promising to add extra honey next time but you need to swallow the damned drink because as much as he would adore a little you round the cottage, he'd prefer such a decision to be well planned in advance. You stopped complaining after he regaled you with that information.

He will leave twice a week on market days to walk to the village and back. Returning home with new orders to fulfil and items for your cupboards, and new things for you. Frivolity that you never had before, lace to trim the dresses he ordered from the dressmaker, aprons that never seemed to get dirty no matter how much you wore them, sweetmeats he'd pop into your mouth when you'd ask him something he did not deem worth an answer.

He only tells you of your family in passing,

“Your cousin still seeks me out. She's like you, always unwilling to accept the answer I give. I tell her my wife is well and happy, she should accept that as it is.” He would sigh and collapse into a heap on the chaise beside you, pulling your face into his lap as he braids your hair.

He doesn't expect you to tend to the house even in his absence, but old habits are hard to break when you find yourself with nothing to do and a perfectly good broom. He will tease you when he sees you sorting things about, calling you his little bride. And refusing for you to lift a finger around if he can help it.

“You need someone to take care of you, my sweet. You've lived a whole life in service to those who gave you nothing in return, just allow me to do this.”

And when you push the commanding tone comes forward again with his smile. He never finds you so pretty as when you slump in his waiting arms, unable to question him or disagree. With what he knows to be best for your sake.

Most nights you find yourself sleeping in one of his shirts, he still needs to but the linen for a new nightgown but until then this does the work. His throat bobs as the hem dips around your upper thighs, until he notices the scars on the back of them.layered across, having been collected by your skin for years with every flare of your relatives temper and flick of the switch. He does not say anything at the sight, doesn’t ask you to tell him something he didn't already learn from your words.

He returns to you with a salve in his hands, the same one he uses to tend to the love bites he leaves scattered across your shoulders and breasts. Asking you to roll over. Massaging the fragrant mixture into your scars, before kissing the back of your thighs tenderly as if his adoration could bruise you too.

“Hopefully this can help to fade them. Id never want to leave anything on you that only exists from anger”

[ace-inthehole]

Just thinking about a pretty old man <3

[18+] Mdni

Top gn reader. Amab or afab w/ a strap I left it vague.

Inspired by @rodolfoparras :)

When you first start your advances, he pushes you off. Because he's already an old man, hair greying, joints creaking, with eyes that have seen far too much. He can't ruin a pretty young thing like you, but oh boy does he want to. It takes everything in him to reject you, let you down lightly, because he wants you just as much as you want him. Maybe more.

It's not hard to notice his wayward glances and sneaked looks, a deep hunger in his eyes, wanting and full of desire. It's rather adorable, seeing him try so hard to suppress his urges and feelings, because he isn't convincing anyone with that act. Not you, and not himself.

But with your persistence, that little facade of his begins to crack. It starts small, maybe a few long conversations over drinks in some dingy bar or a deep chat under the view of the cityscape. His longing gaze becomes more and more passionate, heavy with lust as he takes you in. He still looks away when you meet his eyes, cheeks flushed under his beard as he grumbles some poor excuse.

Fleeting looks become yearning gazes, a brush of your hands become intertwining the under the table. He's breaking, and it's because of you.

And when you finally bed him, he's nothing short of a mess. Splayed out bare before you on your bed, gasping and crying out at every touch. It isn't his first time, far from it, but man does it feel like it is. Every touch from your warm hands on his skin, your breath fanning over his neck or your lips on his face send pleasant and hot hums through his body.

It's embarrassing, it's shameful, every part of him on display before you, but your loving eyes that see nothing but beauty makes his heart clench.

He can hardly get it up anymore, just barely half hard when you're pressing into him, but it feels so good he doesn't have the mind to be embarrassed. When you kiss him you taste the bitter ash lingering from the cigarette he smoked earlier, but his noises are more than sweet enough to make up for it.

When he comes, he's gasping and throwing his head back, body convulsing as he desperately clings onto you. A beautiful sight really, such a man in pieces under you. Pieces that you tear apart with ardor and put back together again lovingly. He lets you do so, becoming putty at your fingertips and moulding into any form you shape him into.

He's reduced to a crying, sniffling little mess with his release splattered on his stomach, but he stares up at you with such pure adoration. He settles into your arms after you clean yourselves up, head resting on your chest and arms wrapped tightly around you.

Truly, an adorable old man.

-

So this is my first time writing smut lol. Go easy on me, thanks. This was written with Price in mind but I decided to keep the character ambiguous.

[cruel-as-sin]

how long before you let me go? | logan howlett

↳ summary: riling up logan doesn't go quite how you planned...

word count: 1.3k

song: supermassive black hole | muse

pairings: bodyguard 70s!logan x rich kid fem!reader

content warnings: 18+ content (MDNI), smut, porn light plot, rough sex, overstimulation, mean!logan, hair pulling, mentions of bite marks and hickeys, spanking (so hard it leaves handprints), whiny!reader, unprotected p in v (practice safe sex everyone!), multiple orgasms, reader flirts with someone else to piss off logan (don't worry about me doing this again...), no use of y/n, pre-established safe word, doggy style, logan puts reader in a headlock, light choking accompanying said headlock, some degradation, pet names for reader (sweetheart, brat, slut), reader is a crying whiny mess and logan loves it, logan has insane stamina (lmk if i missed anything!)

↳ a/n: cas finally posting something!!! (and everyone cheered!) this has been in my drafts for SOOO long and i'm so glad i finally finished it even if it’s shorter than i wanted it to be, logan is sooooooooo hot omfgggg... might turn this into a series bc i feel like this song fits them SO incredibly well

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The problem, if you could call it that, with having sex with Logan is that he Just. Keeps. Going.

Being a celebrities daughter has its perks. A rich lifestyle, for one. Lots of attention, and of course, a bodyguard with muscles that make you drool and a stern voice that leaves you dripping in… other areas.

You two have been having casual sex for about a month and a half now. He’s always been relentless, but usually takes pity on you enough to let up before he’s tired out. And, of course, you have a safeword if you ever need it. Just in case.

You knew he could keep going far longer than the average man, something about his biology letting him fill you up over and over. You didn’t question it- his business was his own, and you certainly weren’t complaining.

Now, though? You might start to complain.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

To back up a little: maybe this was your fault. Okay, it was definitely your fault, but really, could anyone blame you?

It had all started a few days ago, the last time you’d been having sex. His head was buried between your legs, his beard scratching your thighs as his tongue lapped at your clit in a way that had you seeing stars. You were whining his name, about to reach your peak, when suddenly he pulled away, shoving your bedsheets over you and kicking your clothes away as he took a step back.

You’re not sure how he knew- he must have super-hearing or something- but thank god for it, because if he’d noticed only a few seconds later, you two would’ve been interrupted by your father’s knock on the door.

It was a good thing, of course, that he stopped that night, his sharp senses and quick thinking meaning that you could just tell your father that you were changing and Logan was in the bathroom, and even if he had tried to come in, Logan had hidden the evidence well.

Even if it meant you’d spent the rest of that night pent up beyond relief, you were grateful.

Except for the fact that, and this is where the problem starts to come in, Logan had been very clear about one rule when you started sleeping with him: no touching yourself, not without his permission.

And not only does he reject your advances in the following days, claiming it’s too risky now that you almost got the two of you caught (so what if you’d insisted on sneaking away to your room with hardly any time to spare? It’s not like he didn’t agree to join you), he also tells you you’re not allowed to touch yourself, despite the way you beg and plead and give him those puppy dog eyes that you were formerly convinced worked like a magic trick every time.

So… you took matters into your own hands.

I mean, he said you couldn’t touch yourself, right? He never specified that you couldn’t have someone else do it for you.

The way you saw it, flirting with that politician’s son at a party was a win-win. Either you got some probably mediocre sex, but an orgasm was an orgasm (and the possibility of future blackmail was an added bonus), or you pissed Logan off enough that he’d come fuck you, or at least let you do it yourself.

You had been dead wrong.

Well, not entirely. Logan is fucking you. Just not quite the way you hoped.

You’re face down ass up on the bed, your face shoved into the pillows by a firm grip while his other hand digs into your hips hard enough to leave bruises. Your body aches, already littered with bite marks and handprints, and your cunt is sore. He’s given you nothing, the closest thing to foreplay you got being the hickeys claiming you and the spanking you’d been given before he’d all but thrown you onto the sheets and torn off his clothes.

Maybe that was the point when you should have caught on to what was about to happen, but you were a little too desperate to care. Now you suffer the consequences.

He pounds into you relentlessly, never giving you a break, never giving you a chance to breathe. You’ve lost count of how many orgasms he’s pulled from you with his dick alone- four, maybe? And while he’s already cum once, he seems nowhere near done.

You fight to get out his name through the broken moans leaving your lips, eventually managing a strained, “Logan.”

Instead of responding with some sort of mocking tone or insult, he ignores you. Jesus, he’s mad.

“Logan,” you try again, whining his name as he hits that sweet spot deep inside of you.

“What?” He snaps, the way he smushes your head further into the pillow indicating that he doesn’t really want the answer.

When he keeps hitting that spot, your attempts at getting him to stop turn to muffled sobs as you cum once again, clenching around him.

“Yeah, that’s what I fuckin’ thought.” He grumbles, groaning softly at the way your pussy tightens around his length. He grips you a little harder, his thrusts becoming erratic as he spills into you for the second time. Within moments, he’s hard again- really, how does he do that?- and you’re back to being used like a stress toy.

It's mind-numbing, a mix of pleasure and pain that has you reeling from every thrust. He keeps angling himself to hit you in the spot he knows makes you cum every single time without fail, and you curse yourself for letting him get to know your body so well as he pulls another orgasm out of you, his name falling from your lips.

When he’s cum a third time and continues to ignore your pleas, you try to squirm away from him. But your body is exhausted, and even at your full strength you’d be no match for him.

"Uh-uh." He grabs you by the hair and pulls your head back, his other hand keeping a firm grip on your hips so he can keep plowing into you. "You wanted this, you fuckin' brat. You're not goin' anywhere."

"Logan." You plead, tears starting to stream down your face. It's too much, he's everywhere, and you feel like his cock might actually fucking kills you. What a way to die.

"Nah, don't give me that shit." He yanks on your hair, and you cry out in pain. "You started this, sweetheart. You're the one who couldn't go a few goddamn days without my fuckin' attention. Be grateful you got it."

"But-"

The hand that's gripping your hips comes down on your ass, hard, the already sensitive skin stinging even more from the blow. "No buts. You get what you get, you hear me?"

When you don't answer, he spanks you again. More tears well up in your eyes, your protests reduced to incoherent babbling as his cock continues to assault you mercilessly.

"I could've tied you down, made you watch me touch myself. Or edged you until you were beggin' me for forgiveness. Maybe made you hump my boot like the slut you are." He growls, delivering another harsh smack to your ass. "I gave you what you fuckin' wanted. Deal with it."

As shameful as it is to admit, the idea of what else he could have done to you and the angry tone he speaks in is the thing that sends you tumbling over the edge once again.

He barks out a laugh, smacking your ass a few more times just to hear the way you cry for him.

"Please- Logan, I'm sorry-"

He releases your hair, and for one stupid, fleeting second you think he might be finished with you.

Instead he wraps his arm around you, pulling you into a headlock, holding you up effortlessly, his bicep flexing against your throat as he thrusts into you with a renewed vigor.

"Shut up." He snarls in your ear, letting the hand that was grabbing your hips snake down to your clit.

If you'd been overwhelmed with the pleasure before, you were fucking dying now. Drowning in it, suddenly thrown over the edge again by those perfect little circles. His grip is tight, the lack of oxygen making your head fuzzy, and you barely register the way you're drooling onto his muscles.

"That's better." He adjusts his grip to give you a little more room to breathe, letting your cries of pleasure ring throughout the room as they begin to turn to pleas for mercy once more.

"Lo-"

He doesn't let you get a word out, spanking you as he buries himself deep inside, his seed spilling into you, filling you up even more thoroughly. His bicep flexes against you, once again adjusting to choke you just a little less.

"Better get comfy, sweetheart." You can hear the sharp grin in his voice as he begins to move again, fingers returning to the sweet torture he's inflicting upon your clit. "We're gonna be here all night."

tags: @flowersforbucky @thinkinonsense @gewrgia-black @wlwloverwrites @buckybarneswife125 @sweetverine @dilfverines @wchswift @namikyento @lokirogersgirl @nymphoniah @logansdoe @robo-writing @atleastpleasetelephone @r0ttedcherubim @logaenhowlett @th3mrskory @pidgeypidge-pidge @lostinlovingrevery @rosenclaws @cenviswasteland @lubdubology @trr3rr @sacredsorceress @howlettsangel @dixie-isnt-cool @blythesarchives @loganismybodyguard

(this is the taglist for my logan howlett one-shots. if anyone would like to be added to or removed from this taglist, or would specifically prefer to only be tagged for f!, m!, or gn! reader, please let me know!)

[plutoslastwords]

I love ur baby Norris fic smmmm

Can you do one where she is feeling super clingy and just dosent want to leave him alone whether she is just always wanting to be held or just living in his shadow and constantly following him.

koala time

lando norris x daughter!reader

summary: baby norris doesn't get clingy often, but when she does, she really does

warnings: none!

w/c: 1.6k

a/n: sorry this is rushed and all over the place hahah, but hope you enjoy xx

~~~

For a three year old, you are relatively independent. If he had to guess, Lando would regretfully say that it is because he has to be away so often, so you have had to learn to cope with life without your daddy. Obviously you have babysitters and such when he can’t be there to look after you himself, but he knows that no one can properly fill the void of a missing parent.

It's not like you're already ready to live by yourself yet, but it’s the little things like knowing where the cup cupboard is, or where all of your clothes are so you can get yourself dressed in the morning - though you sometimes struggle with the fiddly buttons. In a way, it makes Lando sad, he should be the one doing these things for you, you’re just a baby, you shouldn’t have to do this all yourself.

Unfortunately, there’s not much he can do about it except shower you with attention whenever he gets the chance, making sure that you know just how much he loves you.

However, no matter how independent you can be, there are times where you just need your daddy.

Lando has dubbed it ‘koala time’, when you practically attach yourself to him, not letting him go anywhere or do anything without you, clinging to him like he’s about to disappear. It normally occurs when he’s just got back from a long trip away, and for the next few days you follow him around like a shadow, placing yourself in his lap every moment that you can, whether it is convenient or not.

At present, you’re on Lando’s private jet, along with a few other drivers whose names you haven’t been bothered to remember. The next race is in Japan, and luckily you have some time off from school for spring break, so naturally Lando is taking you along. You’ve never been to Japan, but Daddy has told you that it is very cool, and he’ll take you to lots of shops in Tokyo to buy you new toys, so you’re excited.

The flight from Monaco is long, you spend most of it asleep on a little makeshift bed that you have, and the rest of it immersed in some movie that Lando has got playing on your iPad. You’re not in any sort of clingy mood at the moment, so you’re perfectly happy to sit by yourself and watch your cartoons.

Finally, you arrive in Japan, Lando scooping you up from the plane and carrying you through the airport to the awaiting van that will take you both to the hotel.

“You excited, angel?” He coos at you as he places you on his lap in the car, your bags disregarded to the side.

You nod eagerly, everyone so far has been very nice to you and you are awaiting the moment you can get your hands on some new toys.

The drive to the hotel is fairly long, as Tokyo is so big. You’re only staying in Tokyo for a couple nights, to enjoy the city before travelling further south down to the Suzuka circuit. On the drive you quite contently sit on Lando’s lap, making small comments about what you can see outside the window, mainly just taking in your surroundings. 

When you finally arrive at the hotel, it is very grand, very befitting for a millionaire Formula 1 driver. You’re escorted to your suite, which has a grand king-sized bed for Lando, and a smaller twin bed for you, where a bunny plushie is sitting there waiting. (Lando had told them in advance about your love for the animal)

The excitement of the new room is almost enough to defeat the exhaustion that you are feeling, but eventually the long flight starts to catch up with you, and Lando knows you well enough to notice the first stages of collapse.

“Okay, baby, I think it’s bedtime now, yeah?” He picks you up from where you’re sitting on the bed, holding you on his hip whilst he looks through the suitcases to find you some pyjamas.

In response you try to protest, but the only sound that comes out is a yawn, and even at 3, you know that it is a losing battle. Instead, you opt to lean in closer to his hold, burying your face in the crook of his neck and falling asleep there. He smiles when he notices, softly changing your sleeping body into some pyjamas, and tucking you into your bed with your favourite teddies.

“Goodnight angel” He presses a kiss to your forehead.

The next morning you wake up as usual, you crawl into your daddy’s bed, snuggling up next to him to which he responds by wrapping you in his arms and falling back asleep. You’re having none of that, continually hitting him until he wakes up and gets you both ready to go down to breakfast.

It’s there that the jetlag hits. You’ve never been anywhere with this much of a time difference before. Well, you have, but you were a newborn, and newborns have no concept of time, newborns never sleep. Therefore, the jetlag hits you hard and fast, causing you to almost fall asleep in your half eaten waffle. 

Lando chuckles when he notices this, being an F1 driver, he’s basically become immune to jetlag, so it’s amusing to see his usually oh so energetic daughter completely collapse.

“You tired, baby?” He coos

“‘S early, daddy…” You mumble, eyelids threatening to close.

“It’s 10am, angel girl.” He chuckles at your drowsy state.

Throughout the day your jetlag doesn’t improve, you’re still very very tired. However, unlike most toddlers who have tiredness and grumpiness going hand in hand, your tiredness comes with a big dose of clinginess.

After breakfast you refuse to walk anywhere without Lando carrying you, burying your head into the crook of his neck, and your little hands gripping the collar of his shirt tightly. 

When you get to the place where Lando is meant to be meeting up with a few of his team members to discuss what’s going to be happening in the upcoming weekend you still refuse to let go, even after Lando sits down at the office table.

“Baby, do you wanna go sit over there for a bit whilst Daddy chats?” He asks softly, knowing you’re probably in a bit of a fragile mood.

You shake your head stubbornly at this, you want to stay with your daddy. You just grip onto him tighter. 

At some point in the meeting, you fall fast asleep, and a kind secretary takes you from Lando’s arms - with his permission - to go and lay you down on a nice comfy sofa for you to continue your nap.

When you wake up, you are appalled. Where is your daddy? You immediately sit up, ignoring the rush of exhaustion that is still somehow hanging on, no matter how much you’ve been sleeping. You toddle into the room where Lando is, seeing that he is just leaving, from another door, presumably to go and grab some lunch from the office canteen. Naturally, you follow close behind.

You trail behind him the rest of the way like a shadow. He doesn’t notice you as your legs aren't long enough to fully catch up. When he finally slows down a bit, you see your opportunity, running up to him and clinging onto his leg.

He jumps slightly. “Oh, baby, you gave me a fright, I thought you were having a nap, hm?” He scoops you up into his arms, holding you close.

“Want daddy.” You mumble, pulling at his curly hair. 

“We don’t pull hair, my love..” You pout at that, but stop, resting your head on his shoulder as he walks further into the lunch room. 

Throughout your stay in Tokyo the clinginess doesn’t get much better. Most notably is when he’s on a conference call with a brand back in England in the hotel room. He had put you to bed a couple hours before so wasn’t too worried about you interrupting. 

Obviously he had underestimated the power of a jet lagged toddler. 

You wake up unhappy, you’re still tired, you’ve been tired for days now, and you want your daddy. With a frown on your face you waddle into the room where he’s taking the call, standing next to his chair and holding your arms out, gesturing that you need to be held.

He looks at you with surprise, muting his mic, “Darling, you’re meant to be in bed…”

You don’t say anything in response, simply holding your arms out higher, pleading with your eyes for him to hold you. He knows he cannot resist once he sees that pleading look in your eyes, sighing he lifts you up, holding you on his lap for the rest of the call, not caring how unprofessional it might seem, any brand he works with should know that you’re his first priority, always.

After the call he puts you to bed, but you immediately crawl into his bed with him, grabbing at his arm and nestling your face into it like it’s a pillow. He sighs, knowing that there’s no way he’s winning this one.

He places a little kiss to the top of your head, “My little koala, daddy loves you.”

~~~

a/n: pls continue sending in requests about baby norris, i love writing her!!

[riddlesrizzler]

The Price of Knowledge

summary: The price of books these days is outrageous. characters: mattheo riddle. ravenclaw!reader warnings: none, just fluff word count: 663

Mattheo Riddle was not a studios person. He didn't spend his nights buried in his textbooks, he never planned out essays in advance, and the only reason he even showed up to class most days was to make sure you didn't work yourself into an early grave.

So when you walked into the library, ready to gather everything you needed for your upcoming project, and found every single relevant book missing, you understandably distressed.

"What do you mean all the books on magical architecture are checked out?" you asked, staring at Madam Pince in disbelief.

The librarian huffed. "I mean exactly that. Someone got to them first."

You frowned, gripping your list of sources. "But that doesn't make sense. No one else is going this topic for their project. Who would-"

A slow realization settled over you, your eyes narrowing.

There was only one person who would go to such lengths to bother you.

—

You stormed into the Slytherin common room, marching straight past a very startled looking Theo and Enzo.

"Where is he?" you demanded.

Theo smirked. "Wow, I don't think I've ever seen you this mad."

"Mattheo," you said through gritted teeth. "Where is he?"

"That depends," came a familiar voice from behind you. "Are you looking for me because you missed me, or because you want to kill me?"

You turned on your heel, and sure enough, Mattheo was leaning casually against the doorway of the common room, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"You stole all the books I need for my project," you accused.

He tsked. "Stole is a strong word. I borrowed them."

"You don't even like books!"

"That's not true," he said, smirking. "I like you. and you like books. Therefore, I have an appreciation for books by association."

You crossed your arms. 'Give them back."

He tilted his head, pretending to consider. "Hmm, I don't know. See, I put in all this effort to check them out for you. Seems only fair that I get something in return."

You gave him a flat look. "Mattheo."

He grinned. Unphased. "One kiss per book."

Your mouth fell open. "You- you blackmailed me for affection?"

He shrugged. "I prefer to think of it as an exchange of goods and services."

"You are unbelievable"

"And yet, here you are, still madly in love with me."

"That is not what this is."

Mattheo stepped closer, smirk softening into something almost playful. "Come on, sweetheart. You're always so stressed about projects. I figured I'd help you out and have a little fun while I'm at it."

You signed, running a hand through your hair. "You really expect me to-"

"A deal's a deal," he cut in, raising a brow. "Unless, of course, you don't want the books..."

You groaned, but the warmth in his gaze made it hard to stay mad. You stepped closer, rising onto your toes to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

"There," you muttered. "Now give me my books."

Mattheo chuckled. "Sweetheart, that was one. you still owe me fove more."

You face flushed. "You are insufferable."

You huffed, glaring at him for a moment before finally conceding. You kissed the other side of his face, then his forehead, then his nose- and each time, he grinned wider, clearly reveling in your flustered state.

"Two more," he murmured.

You hesitated, heart thudding, before leaning in and pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth.

His smirk flattered, dark eyes flickering over you with something deeper.

Your breath hitched.

"Last one," he said softly, his voice lower.

You swallowed, pulse racing as you finally kissed him properly, you lips meeting his in a way that made the entire common room disappear.

Mattheo didn't let you pull away so easily this time. His hand found your waist, tugging you closer as he deepened the kiss, his usual teasing replaced with something far more intoxicating.

By the time you broke apart, you were breathless.

Mattheo smirked, brushing his thumb over your cheek. "You know, I was going to give you the books anyway."

You glares at him, although it lacked any real malice. "I hate you."

His grinned wideded. "No you don't."

You smile the smallest bit before turning away.

He was right, you don't.

[searchingforserendipity25]

playing around in the sandbox of queerplatonic benítez/lawrence.

and i'm not even talking about stifled desire or weird ecstatic sex dreams, no matter how fun that is. and i'm not even talking one-side pining in any direction, or innocent xiv blurring the edges of what devotion and worship stand for in cardinal lawrence's eyes.

i mean a real, an honest-to-god secret third thing. taking the whole brothers-in-christ thing in a bold new contemporary direction.

deeply intimate spiritual communion happening regularly during walks, and over paperwork, and behind bulletproof glass. all day every day. affirming conversations and touches and looks.

it's passionate. it's intense. it's something like infatuation. it's something like falling in love, quick friendship, human adoration - and nothing like that either.

it's a very clear understanding, a sharp and sudden and very strong connection, and it alters the world around them and it is not like they have a great deal of references for this.

so! naturally, a thought follows on the other. an assumption follows on the other, and as they have taken to an encompassing honesty, it doesn't take very, very long before they hash it out.

it is, all things considered, startlingly easy. nerve-wracking, of course, but there's a route to these things, and if kissing is not entirely pleasant, then it's not as if either of them has a great deal of experience.

they do break their vows together. schedule it in advance and everything!! a whole fraught arc involved, about repression and choice and sacrifice, and recontextualizing celibacy and chastity, and affirming their closeness as a vow in itself.

and it is. fine.

a spiritually meaningful experience! pleasurable in its way! but kinda mid, as far as generally meaningful experiences go. the quiet of a room with the air conditioning on is less erotic than most of their confessional sessions, and the not-take-backies of it give it a weight and pressure that isn't very enjoyable, even going into it together.

not really worth repeating. it's possibly lawrence regrets it at once and mourns his lost chaste chivalric ideal with real anguish, is filled with remorse for besmirching his friend and diminishing their companionship to something base. can't stand to look as benítez afterwards; can't stand to live inside himself.

it's possible benítez has to face the turmoil in his heart with being largely sex-repulsed even about the person who knows his self, body and spirit, the most. to find he prefers pleasure by himself, or not at all; that he does not find truth for himself in the idea of marriage or romantic affection.

no more now than he ever has before, even though he had believed it - even though he does love lawrence with a singular focus he hasn't felt before, as near to possessive attachment as he has ever come, and without the redeeming element of any defined, traditional term to it.

amatonormativity will get you anywhere, even in the vatican!

possibly there's a spin on the last-minute rush to the airport/train station/bus stop on the way to a tiny monastery in the alps to keep the love interest from flying off to london/new york/a tiny monastery in the alps, and an heartfelt heart to heart.

possibly benítez is wearing the same clothes he did when he arrived in rome, unexpected and unwanted. the first time he went out into the world as vincent benítez.

it's incredible, he says (it is possible, even likely, that his voice breaks a little), how much people don't really see him, when he's not wearing white. out of everyone in the world, no one looks at him as clearly as lawrence does. does this have to change, just because they have seen each other's nakedness and desire?

they are not adam or even, or noah's children; they should not need to break their ties because of shame. there is no harm in loving as they do, as there is none in loving otherwise. how just is it to argue otherwise, to work for an encompassing church, while casting themselves aside? he should leave rome, if he feels it is what he is called to go, but not because of shame.

lawrence comes back. lawrence takes his hands with his trembling fingers in apology and says, wrenched with love, with pity: oh vincent. no, it is not fair at all, is it?

he has been a fool. he has lived his life in ignorance of himself, and so narrowly he did not notice it. life to him was the church or marriage, and to have one was not to have the other, and nothing in between seemed possible, or correct, or permissible, or genuine.

they make it work! the times they wash each other's feet after particularly trying days, or the hand massages, and all the quietly ecstatic praying with fingers wound around the same rosary?

those can be sensual experiences too. there's closeness there. also possibly they try out guided masturbation involved from across the confessional grid, but that's a whole other thing.

[amomentsescape]

Hi! I saw headcanons with slashers, with a pregnant reader that's clingy on ur account. Would it be possible to write about a pregnant reader that's irritated by their voice, or feels nauseous from their scent? (obv the reader didn't have problems like that before the pregnancy) Ty in advance! Love your headcanons and writing in general! 💞

Slashers with Sick & Pregnant! Reader

Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, Bo & Hannibal

A/N: I saw your other message and made sure to include Hannibal with this!

Freddy Krueger

As mentioned so many times before, he can literally alter his world in any way, shape or form

A certain scent is throwing you off?

No problem, he'll just change it to something that relaxes you

His voice is irritating you?

Then why not make himself sound like that one singer you've been obsessed with recently

He can fully take away your discomfort if you ask

Which is why you've been sleeping so much recently

His world, for the time being, is much better than the real one

Michael Myers

Michael is Michael

He doesn't really care to be honest

He rarely goes out of his way to speak or get all touchy with you anyways

The couple of times he has so far is met with a quiet apology as you pull away

He just looks at you and continues on with whatever he was going to do next

He doesn't take it personally

But if he has a particularly rough night, then sadly for you, there is no denying him

If he wants to sit next to you then nothing is going to stop him

Jason Voorhees

He knows he probably doesn't smell the best, considering his current... state

But every time you make a face or scoot a few feet further away, Jason's head noticeably falls

You've apologized to him probably a million times by now, and you constantly reassure him that it's just the hormones

He believes you, but that bullied little boy is still in his mind sometimes

He's doing his best to be strong for the both of you, but it's tough on him

The only solace is at night when you're already asleep, and he can finally curl up beside you in peace

Thomas Hewitt

He's fairly understanding of it all, and he always waits by the door in the morning to see if you need help with anything

All it took was ONE time when you pulled away early from a hug, and he basically avoided you like the plague for the rest of the day

It's killing him not to be close to you, but he is not willing to over step your boundaries

He'll just act as your personal assistant for the next several months, fetching you anything and everything you could possibly need

He's happy to wait until things can finally go back to normal again

Bubba Sawyer

Poor guy has no idea

You can explain this to him in every way possible, but he still doesn't understand

It's worse too because he's been extra cuddly with you knowing that you have a little one growing inside you

But his giggles have been too pitchy, and no amount of showering seems to remove that bloody aroma off of him

Even his mother has tried to explain to him why you're reacting like this, but all he hears is that you don't want him around

He's quite literally going to be acting like a kicked puppy until your hormones get sorted out

Brahms Heelshire

Yeah, this isn't going to go well

You may be pregnant, but he still needs to be taken care of too

And he's so incredibly observant

So all it takes is one crinkle of the nose or a slight turn of the head, and he's immediately on you about "when you're going to leave him" and "who the other man is"

Even if you get him to listen to what's going on, it won't matter

Nothing will change, he won't let it

You better buy some nose and ear plugs, because Brahms is desperate for your attention

Norman Bates

He understands

He literally bought a dozen books about pregnancy and how to help out as best as one can

All you have to do is mention it once, and he's to work

The smallest sounds are bothering you? He's not uttering a single word and will sound proof the house

A certain scent is making your stomach turn? He will fill the area in anything you can tolerate, so much as to switching his soaps and detergents to better suit your needs

He fully understands everything you and your body are going through in order to carry his child; the least he can do is make you comfortable

Billy Loomis

He isn't exactly the best at empathizing, so he feels like you're probably exaggerating it a bit

These things never once bothered you before, so there's no way they could be now

Takes everything very personally

If you even slightly push him away, he'll make his exit out the door

He always comes back though with a pout and a murmured apology

He has a lot of abandonment issues he's still working out

He isn't too mature with his emotions, but he's trying his best to figure things out

Will eventually do research on his own and see that things are backed by science

Won't stop him from still pouting though

Stu Macher

Apologizes for just being in your presence

Once you explain how you're feeling and what's bothering you, he'll be your biggest supporter...

From the other room

You wake up to warm tea and snacks most mornings since he knows he can be in the same room when you're asleep

Will become a bit deprived of affection after a while though

So he'll sneak into bed with you once you're already asleep and will be out before you wake up the next morning

He explains that it's important for him to spend time with you both

May still give you the occasional hug out of nowhere

He just can't help it

Vincent Sinclair

He's going to 100% respect your wishes, but he's definitely sulking any time your back is turned

He gets it, he knows about the hormones and science of it all, but damn

It hurts him so much to know that something so natural about him can be making you sick like this

He's kept his tinkering to a minimum since the noises have been hurting your head

He's taken to showering multiple times a day too since it's the only thing keeping your nausea at bay

He knows you don't mean harm by it, but this phase is going to feel like an eternity for him

Bo Sinclair

Sympathy isn't exactly in his vocabulary

He won't really do or change anything at first

But if you complain about it for long enough, he'll finally give in

But he isn't really going to do anything that actually benefits you

He'll buy nose and ear plugs for you so that he doesn't have to change anything himself

He still expects you to watch and eat whatever he is feeling though

He's trying to be there for you the best he can, he just hasn't had many experiences of empathy in his life

Hannibal Lecter

He understands and will act ever so maturely about it (like always)

He'll stop wearing his usual cologne and aftershave if it bothers you

Will only cook certain foods around you that you can tolerate

The rest he'll cook privately

If his smooth and suave voice bothers you for some reason, he'll be happy to communicate through gestures and looks

He's willing to adapt to your needs since he knows the severity of pregnancy and hormone changes

He's truly the "ask and you shall receive" type partner

[societyfolklore]

Would you do maybe an imagine for me ? 😇

Bucky Barnes, currently being at a bar with the other avengers and even if he still isn't the outgoing one, seems to have a good time with his friends. 

The reader, being at the same bar with some of her colleagues. She also isn't very comfortable around them as she doesn't really like them, but wanted to be part of their group. It all goes fine, until the other woman of her team notices the avengers sitting there and they start drooling about how hot the guys are and even make advances towards them, especially towards bucky. But the reader is trying to hide as she isn't joining their bickering. 

The avengers mostly are used to those woman's behaviour so they act professional. But bucky notices how uncomfortable the beautiful woman on the table feels, the reader. So even if he doesn't know her, he feels a pull towards her as soon as he sees her helpless eyes. So he gets up, walking towards their table and pulls her up, kissing her out of the blue, acting to be her boyfriend to save her and get her over to the avenger table and they all welcome her. Later maybe they hit it up and end up sleeping together and in the morning bucky is all shy and asks her for a proper date ? 🤗

Title: Stranger No More Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: At a crowded bar, Bucky Barnes notices when it appear that you don’t quite fit in with your group- quiet, tense, and clearly uncomfortable as her coworkers throw themselves at the Avengers, Bucky finds himself acting with out thinking.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings:  / Explicit Content /18+, Minors DNI, Protected sex (assumed, but not stated), oral references, praise kink, soft dom/sub dynamics, emotionally vulnerable, Mild alcohol use, Public discomfort/social anxiety themes, Protective!Bucky, shy!morning-after Bucky, Sudden kiss

A/N: Went with Bucky ‘protective’ nature for this one..Sorry if this a little rushed, wanted to be able to put this up before I start my new job tomorrow...   You weren’t laughing with the others. Bucky noticed that first.

He wasn’t trying to people-watch- really, he’d come out because Sam wouldn’t shut up about “getting Bucky to be a damn human being again,” and honestly, it was kind of nice. Loud, chaotic, but nice. There was a comfort in the noise, even if he stayed mostly on the fringes, observing more than participating. He’d nursed the same drink for over an hour, chuckling at Tony’s bad jokes and dodging Nat’s attempts to drag him into a game of darts.

But then his eyes had caught on you.

Not on the crowd of women at your table trying desperately to flirt with the Avengers like it was open season. Not the loud one asking Clint to flex. Not the one draping herself over the edge of her chair trying to get Steve’s attention. No, Bucky’s gaze locked on the one woman at the far end, tucked into the booth like she was trying to disappear, nursing a glass of wine like it was her only anchor to the room.

You.

Something about you hit him in the gut. You weren’t giggling. You weren’t flipping your hair or licking your lips or asking Steve if he really lifted a motorcycle once. You weren’t trying to be seen. You looked… small. Uncomfortable. Your shoulders were curled inward like you wanted to vanish entirely, and your fingers kept fidgeting with the napkin in your lap. He watched you glance at your coworkers- nodding at their laughter, offering the occasional forced smile- but you never truly joined in. You were pretending.

Then your eyes met his.

Just a second. Maybe less. But it was enough. You looked at him like you were silently begging someone to get you the hell out of there.

And that? That was enough to make him move.

Bucky moved before he thought about it. It wasn’t a calculated decision. It wasn’t heroic. It was instinct. Gut-deep and certain. Something in your eyes had pulled at him, tugged at some frayed wire inside his chest, and before he knew what he was doing, he was on his feet.

“Where you goin’, Romeo?” Sam called, but Bucky didn’t answer. He just gave a little shake of his head and kept walking.

He weaved through the crowd, sidestepping drunk college kids and dodging a server with a tray full of beers. As he got closer to your table, he saw the way the women around you were reacting. One of them straightened her top, pressing her arms together to push up her cleavage. Another ran a hand through her hair and shifted her body to face the Avengers' table more directly, clearly hoping to catch a stray glance. Desperation hung in the air like perfume.

But Bucky’s eyes were only on you. You looked like you wanted to crawl under the table- shoulders tight, your eyes fixed on your drink as if it could shield you from the chatter around you. When one of the women leaned closer to Bucky and tossed her hair with a loud laugh, your jaw clenched ever so slightly. It was subtle, but enough for him to notice. Enough to make him move.

You flinched when he reached you. Your lips parted, probably about to apologize for something you didn’t do, and that’s when he did it.

He bent down and kissed you.

Not rough. Not claiming. Just there. A soft, steady kiss that said, Go with this. I’ve got you. His hand cradled your jaw, thumb brushing your cheekbone, the touch feather-light but certain.

Your glass nearly slipped from your hand. But after the initial shock, your lips moved against his. Just a beat. Just enough to make it look real. Just enough to sell the moment.

When he pulled away, Bucky gave you the smallest smile it was crooked and soft. “Hey, baby,” he murmured, brushing a knuckle against your cheek like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Your coworkers were stunned into silence. One of them blinked like she couldn’t quite compute what she’d just seen. Another’s mouth hung open.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he added, loud enough for the table to hear. “C’mon back, everyone’s waiting for you.” He slipped his hand into yours like it had always been there.

And god bless you - you stood up without a word, let him take your hand, and walked away like this was your plan all along. You didn’t look back. Didn’t check to see the looks on your coworkers’ faces. You just went with him, and Bucky felt a strange warmth bloom in his chest.

He didn’t even know your name yet.

The others welcomed you at their table without question. Steve pulled out a chair, Nat gave you a wink, and Sam immediately leaned over to whisper something that made you smile. There was no awkward interrogation, no teasing questions, they made space for you like you already belonged. Bucky sat beside you, keeping his arm over the back of your chair. Not touching. Just there. A silent shield. A quiet comfort.

You didn’t say much for the first ten minutes. Your voice felt like it might catch in your throat if you tried, tight and uncertain, like it hadn’t been used in hours. When you finally spoke, it came out soft- barely above a whisper, shaky at first, like you weren’t sure anyone would care to hear it. He stayed beside you, body angled subtly in your direction like a protective wall. Every so often, he glanced at you, not in a demanding way, but checking in. Slowly, steadily, he could feel it: the tension easing from your shoulders, the way your fingers stopped twisting your napkin, the way your breath started to come easier.

Then you laughed at something Sam said, and Bucky nearly smiled into his drink. You were starting to breathe again- and this time, it was real.

Later- after the bar had emptied out and the night air had sobered the edges of your nerves- you and Bucky shared a cab back to his place. It wasn’t planned, not really. Just the kind of quiet, mutual understanding that hummed between you both. Under the guise of continuing the conversation, you rode together, shoulders brushing in the backseat, small smiles exchanged in the rearview mirror's reflection.

Once inside, he offered you water, asked if you wanted to sit down, and then stood awkwardly near the kitchen like he didn’t know what to do with his hands.

You crossed the room.

You kissed him first. Soft and steady, your lips on his jaw as you whispered, “Thanks for saving me.”

His response wasn’t words.

He kissed you breathless, hands firm but careful as he guided you down onto his bed. There was something hungry in him, yes- but deeper than that, there was reverence. He touched you like you were something he couldn’t believe he was allowed to have, like he needed to memorize you with every brush of his fingers. The way he undressed you was slow, deliberate, like unwrapping something sacred. His flesh hand stroked along every inch of skin he revealed, trailing fire in his wake, while the metal one remained cool against the warmth of your thigh, your waist, your throat- grounding and electrifying all at once.

"You sure about this?" he asked, voice low, already thick with arousal, his gaze searching yours.

"Yes, Bucky. God, yes."

He groaned when you said his name like that- like it belonged to you, like it meant something.

He kissed you again, deeper this time, and nudged your knees apart with the press of his thighs. The moment he slid inside you was a gasp- yours and his. He filled you completely, stretching you with a slow, deliberate push that made your back arch off the bed. His pace was unhurried but intense, like he needed to feel every inch of you around him, like he wanted to make it last.

Every thrust dragged a needy moan from your lips, and he soaked them up with kisses, but something in his voice faltered. He pressed his forehead to yours, breath shaky. "I shouldn't- this isn't me, I don't usually..." The words were fractured, struggling to find footing between instinct and insecurity. His metal hand gripped your hip like a lifeline, grounding him. He kissed you again, softer this time, a whisper of a vow. "You’re so warm- Christ.""

His hands didn’t stop moving- one clutching your hip, the other pressed against your lower back, pulling you into every stroke. And when your nails scratched down his back, he snapped his hips harder, groaning your name into your mouth like he couldn’t hold back any longer.

He fucked you through it- slow and deep, then fast and filthy when your legs wrapped around his waist and you begged for more. You came with his fingers on your clit and his mouth at your ear, coaxing it out of you like he needed you to break for him, to unravel completely under his hands.

And when he came right after, whispering a choked fuck as he buried himself deep and stilled, both of you trembling, your breaths tangled in the quiet between kisses. 

In the morning, when sunlight crept through the blinds and your head rested on his chest, Bucky stared at the ceiling like it might give him answers. He could still feel the warmth of your skin against his, the ghost of your moans in his ears, and yet- now that the haze of lust had faded, nerves came creeping in.

He rubbed the back of his neck, hesitant. This wasn’t something he did. Not like that. Not with someone he didn’t even know twenty-four hours ago. And yet, it hadn’t felt rushed. It hadn’t felt wrong. It had felt... right. Which only made the knot in his stomach worse.

You shifted slightly, your breath warm against his chest, and he cleared his throat softly.

“So, uh… you maybe wanna- go out? I mean, if you want to. Like- actually out?” His fingers drummed nervously against the sheet, eyes flicking from the ceiling to your hand, then away again. His voice cracked slightly at the end, and he gave a half-shrug, already bracing for rejection. The words came out gruff, awkward. Not smooth. Not suave. He didn’t look at you when he said it, just kept his eyes on the ceiling like a coward.

You smiled against his skin, your arm tightening just slightly around his waist. “Thought you’d never ask.”

Bucky exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. Relief flooded him, followed by a shy grin he quickly tried to hide in your hair. Maybe he wasn’t good at this. But maybe, with you, he wanted to try.

[yandere-sins]

How'd you think Yandere luci and Yandere Mammon would deal with a S/O who's hiding the fact they're a virgin and is always trying to avoid intercourse by excuses like pretending to be asleep etc because they don't want to lose their virginity to them? (ALSO BTW, I LOVE YOUR WORK. like your work is super amazing and detailed <3 best yan writer)

Thank you for reading my writing!! I am so glad you enjoy it ^-^

And thank you for requesting! ♥

Warning: Yandere, Sexual Content

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Lucifer

♡ As if he doesn't know. You might be able to fool another human, and maybe someone as dense as Mammon, but you can't fool Lucifer. He had already noticed you shying away from his touch, the goosebumps and sudden tension that would go through you every time he touched you (rather innocently even). It's like you expected something to happen and are unsure how to react. Maybe you don't want it, perhaps you do, but your signals aren't very clear, and that makes him suspect you.

♡ He could blame it on some form of trauma that he doesn't know about, but he'd expect your reactions to be a bit more violent or fueled by rejection if that was the case. Instead, they are bashful and tense, with a taste of sweetness and innocence that Lucifer quite likes. And he caught Asmo giving you a knowing look once while you seemed even more hesitant to approach the 5th oldest brother; you made it much too easy for Lucifer to figure out what kind of game you were playing.

♡ So, he'll play along for a while since it's now in his control. You might not be a well-aged drop of lust yet, but delaying the inevitable is going to do you both well. Riling you up, getting you to let down your guard, and leaving you hot and bothered will benefit Lucifer greatly. Seeing your walls crumble will be enough to satisfy him for a while, so he won't have to put his hands on you prematurely. You may simmer on the knowledge that he'll take your virginity at some point, be sensitive, and get confused at times over his actions. Maybe even fantasize what it'll be like. Will he be rough? Gentle? Ease you into it or brutal steal your innocence like he did with your freedom? Letting your thoughts and desires run wild, no matter how much you want to deny them, will almost guarantee that once you are ready, you'll be at a point where you'll crawl to him, begging for release. And Lucifer likes that idea very much.

♡ Things he'll do to chip away at your defense include but aren't limited to spooning up against you at night, his cock perfectly pressed against your body but not grinding against you. Just letting you know it's there and ready for you and allowing you to get used to it but never letting you scoot away. The same is true with his hand placement at night, his palm at your lower abdomen, just resting there, and his fingertips slipping beneath your clothes to leave feathery trails of allurement. So close yet far enough away, teasing, playful, promising. The warmth it emits seeping into your body, heating you up, only for him to retract and leaving you hanging. Sometimes, his fingers will play with your clothes, letting you know just how agile they are. Your mind will do the rest as you can imagine the chaos and pleasure they can leave in their wake. He wears human pheromones suited to your taste, and he'll flirt with you, complimenting you even when you feel vulnerable, letting you know how receptive he is to taking the next step. It's only a matter of time until you cave, but Lucifer will do everything to make it the hardest few days of your life.

Mammon

♡ Mammon is indeed a little dense. He might feel a bit off-put if you reject his advances repeatedly, but he doesn't see anything wrong with it the first few times. There is absolutely no subtlety in his advances, his kisses bordering on orgasm-territory already when he's in the mood, his hands greedy as is fitting for his title. You might be forced into these affections, but even you can't help but squirm beneath him. It only gives him more incentive to take it up a notch when he's just so passionate, your lips constantly bruised, and your neck marked by his teeth.

♡ So it becomes very frustrating and confusing for him when you kick and scream the moment he gets a bit more intimate. He'd like to respect your choice despite him not giving you one when it comes to whether or not you'll be with him for the rest of your life. Mammon likes to think he's gracious like that. But he thought you two were on the right path to taking the next step, yet you keep rejecting him. To be fair, he's been very clear that he wants you for a long time: Grinding against you, fondling your body even though he should be concentrating on other things. You've caught him jerking off next to you, moaning your name quite a few times even though you pretended to be asleep. And if that isn't clear enough, he's been nagging and sometimes even begging on his knees for you to give him some of that sweet body of yours to fuck. You've rejected him all the same, so for Mammon, it hints at something being seriously wrong, but he can't quite figure it out himself.

♡ It takes some... advice from more experienced individuals for him to come to a conclusion. Levi thinks perhaps he smells bad, Satan questions why anyone would want to be with Mammon in the first place, and Beel asks if maybe you're too hungry for any of that stuff and if Mammon fed you properly. But hey, at least Asmo is useful, hinting at the possibility of you feeling... insecure. Maybe you're too "inexperienced" (Mammon vehemently denies the possibility of you being a virgin, cause duh, look at you! Stunning, gorgeous, and he will totally kill anyone who touched you before him, but clearly, with how seductive and sexy you are, he can't possibily your first). So Mammon deducts Asmo is right; you're just nervous because you'll be with a great guy like Mammon!

♡ Worry not; he decides to show you the ropes! ... Literally. You might stutter and reject his ideas of getting close and personal, but Asmodeus had a handy bag of goodies for Mammon before he left. Even though Mammon is at his limit, he tries to keep it together for you, tying you up and making you watch him jerk off, reciting all the things he wants to do to you, how he'll do it, and showing you how insane you are driving him. There won't be any more nights to hide away after that, as Mammon will demonstrate to you exactly how worthy you are to lay with him. But at least he'll ease you into it, that's something, right? You'll get the full 7 hells of orgasms from his mouth to fingers to toys. Forcing you to rely on him as he takes away your senses, like sight, and the freedom to move as you please. By the time he finally gets to wet his cock on you, you'll be already too well-fucked to care, and if that isn't devotion, what is?

[ladyrosemone]

Porque te vas

All the promises of my love will leave with you, you'll forget me

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Lads x No-mc

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Life is good.

There was a point where things got dark, tough, certainly depressing, but with the help of your friends and the great therapist who sees you monthly (a huge step forward), you've been able to get back to living your life normally.

There were consequences that came a little later; your job took a big hit, and unfortunately, you couldn't do much to keep it. You didn't really like it, but it paid the bills. Luckily, you made good friends during your time as an employee, even your boss was saddened by your departure, but he left a good reference in your letter, and that will surely be reflected on your resume; In the meantime, you really need something temporary.

The downside to having an advanced degree, a master's degree, and a postgraduate degree is that you're often overqualified for certain positions that would be a great fit for you these days, and you definitely won't ask your friends for financial help even if they say they're more than willing to give it. You appreciate their company and moral support, but it would be great if the world would stop closing career paths to you just because you're more qualified at carrying sacks of potatoes.

While you search, you remember to take moments of relaxation to meditate or simply take a break, that's why you're in Linkon Park, a sunny, cloudless day, with a barely perceptible breeze that refreshes your skin. You walk calmly, watching the children running and playing with each other, the parents not far away watching them or chatting with each other, friends passing the time or enjoying a picnic at the tables, and couples relaxing on the grass.

It's definitely a good day.

- It's mine! It's mine! -

Even the ground is warm! I hope the sarcasm is noticeable.

Luckily, it wasn't a hard blow, just the impact of a large body falling on you like a ton of flour. The good thing was that you partially landed on the grass so your head won't have a huge bump in the morning.

- I'm so sorry! - exclaims a male voice echoing in your ears, It shouldn't echo, right? - Please let me help you -

You look up at the sky, eclipsed by a handsome man; tall, given the way he kneels, with a healthy skin tone, short, dark hair that matches his eyes of the same color, which also matches his casual outfit, he's visibly strong (which is why the impact hurt so much), he looks at you with a worried face, his hand extended, waiting for yours.

Still a little disoriented, you take his hand -Thank you -

- I swear I didn't see you, I'm so sorry - He sounds contrite, and ignores the call of (apparently) his friends, guiding you to a nearby bench so you can sit down. In fact, he helped you reorient your five senses in the right direction, allowing your eyes to see instead of savor the sound.

- It's okay, it's okay - you try to say once you've remembered how to speak, how embarrassing that a tackle took you down like that, but it really was like running into a brick wall. He's so strong!

The next thing you know, it's been a good five minutes of this man apologizing on behalf of his friends (naming each one), saying he'll be more careful from now on, and that he's really sorry he knocked you down.

- I understand! - You don't want to be rude, but if you don't stop him now, he'll probably continue babbling nonstop and apologize on behalf of his entire generation -I understand, no problem, I'm better now -

- Even so… - he mumbles sadly, looking at you with as much sadness as if he'd really done something wrong -Let me make it up to you -

- No need it -

- I insist - and he really does, his sadness turning into determination -Let me buy you a drink -

- I don't drink alcohol -

- A cold drink, like a smoothie - It doesn't seem oppressive in its insistence, more like a kid who knows he broke a friend's toy and wants to make it up to him with another one - There's a really good coffee shop nearby, Destiny Café, do you know it? -

- I've been there a couple of times, it's good - You're not the kind of person who wants to be rewarded like that. You don't know this guy, and he wants to buy you something? You don't even let your friends spend money on you, or you prevent it as much as you can.

- Please -

Well, it can't be worse than being knocked out on the ground in a park.

════ ∘◦❁◦∘ ════════ ∘◦❁◦∘ ════════ ∘◦❁◦∘ ════════

In fact, it wasn't bad at all.

You talked for a good hour, maybe more, the smoothie turned into coffee, coffee into carrot cake for him, and chocolate and strawberry cake for you. Desserts were put aside as the conversation flowed like a spring.

Now you know he's a pilot in training, that he likes rock climbing, running on the beach, and cooking for his family and friends, that he enjoys music, reading about aerospace engineering, and that he's an honors student, he even told you about a friend who had been thought dead and suddenly found him posing for a photo on his own tombstone, how crazy!

It's funny, It was a shame he had to leave, but his academy has strict schedules when it comes to his students' free time. But you'll definitely keep in touch, since he took care of checking in on your phone: your good (and annoying) friend Gao Gideon.

Now you just relax looking out the window, watching people pass by, each living their own story, some in their best chapters and others going through their canonical event, it's entertaining to guess what each one is going through.

- Excuse me - a sweet voice calls from next to your table. She's a beautiful girl, an alluring aura surrounding her as if she were a sun you need to orbit - Are you still using the table? There aren't any other tables available, and well...I don't want to bother you or anything if you're still using it -

- Oh no! I was just leaving - You're about to put your things away when she stops you.

- Your necklace - It's a simple silver necklace with a small emerald dangling from it, protected in a crescent-shaped pendant - It's very beautiful; emeralds are my favorite gemstone -

- Mine too - you say, standing up, but that girl insisted so much that you join her for a while (not that you have anything else to do) that you ended up talking for hours as if you were lifelong friends, and you probably are now.

But it was getting late, and you had to go, besides, she'd already told you she was waiting for someone and would be here any moment. So you said goodbye, and before leaving the café, you noticed they were hiring, what a lucky day! Two friends and a possible job in one day.

Life is good, you think, leaving the café with an interview scheduled for tomorrow and feeling good after months in the dark, but you should know that even the light tends to hide shadows amidst the splendor.

Even on a good day, you should pay attention to your surroundings; you never know who you might bump into again.

[hanasnx]

“ YOU GOT A FETISH FOR MY LOVE, I PUSH YOU OUT AND YOU COME RIGHT BACK ” — anakin skywalker.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: if this counts for kinktober, i'm saying the kink is begging. WARNINGS: ex!anakin ノ fem reader ノ mild angst ノ established relationship ノ size difference ノ sexual content: some p in v stuff ノ pathetic begging anakin.

All of your relationships leading up to this point had resolutely ended. There were no loose ends, and nothing worth sacrificing your self-respect for. You'd cut them off, or burn the bridge if you had to, just to ensure you couldn't backslide on your decision. It's an incredible trust to place in yourself, and a little lonely. No matter how much your heart ached for the person you separated from, you would not reach out, and you'd make it pretty clear you didn't want to hear from them either. One exception stands before you now, that familiar crease in EX!ANAKIN SKYWALKER's brow as he demands to be let inside.

"It can't end like this." A statement that leaves no room for argument. One of the reasons you called it quits in the first place is dating a general doesn't feel like dating, it just feels like taking orders. "Do you have any idea what I've done for you? What I've sacrificed?" he admonishes incredulously, taking up the space of your doorway as stand your ground.

"Anakin- leave." you command. You know he's just here to pick a fight, to see if he can break your spirit with guilt-tripping manipulations. It's hard to feel large against a towering figure like General Skywalker, but you're bold enough to try to. Even if he can sweep you out of his way with an arm, you block his entrance with your body.

"You stubborn girl. You don't understand anything, do you?" he spits, the deep lines of his scowl drawing shadows that cascade his expression to a near unrecognizable degree. If you didn't know him, you'd fear for your safety.

"I told you to go!" you cry, jabbing your finger over his shoulder to signal him to turn around.

He advances, forcing you to arch away. "You don't mean that!" His voice is a lot louder than yours, and it carries. The frown in your brow relaxes as your eyes widen in response to his outburst. In a way, it's a keen reading. If it combats the loneliness of your self-sabotaging nature, you wish you'd let yourself invite him to stay. However, your pride has gotten you this far, and you don't want to appear weak. Perhaps, you don't want him to go, but it's the right thing to do.

You've been through so much together, and you're sure that he only holds onto you so tightly because you're all he's ever known when it comes to romantic entanglements. If he had been more experienced when you'd met him, he wouldn't have such passionate outrage about being refused.

He's the only one who's chased you so closely while you ran away. Retreating from intimacy, retreating from love, he's the only one who's seen right through you, and demanded you anyway.

"Anakin, you should go." you whisper against his lips as he backs you up deeper into your apartment. Eager hands curtly whip your clothes from your body, careful not to disrupt the connection of your mouths, recycling breath between you.

"Please, don't say that—You don't mean that." he murmurs, the vulnerability of being rejected laced into his plea. Your hands suspended in air from shock come to rest on his leather padding, helping him out of his robing like you've done a thousand times before. It's like a dance, the way your figures move fluidly, retracing the steps, how he backs you up against the wall as he slips his tongue between your lips, tilting his head to reach you as you're less than cooperative. The taste of him intoxicates you, coaxing your own tongue to smooth over his, and he expels a pleasant noise through his nose. His fingers splay on your shoulders, keeping you in place while staying at an uncharacteristic distance. It's as if he's begging for you with his body, showing you he'll do whatever it takes to prove to you his devotion, his love. Kiss him without touching places he's not allowed to touch anymore.

Part of you wishes he'd get over that, and in a fit of impatience, you place them for him, tracing them over the curves of your bare figure.

Herding you to the bedroom you once shared, his hand comes to cup the nape of your neck, pinning you to him as he delves his tongue deeper. You've never had anyone kiss you like Anakin, and if you didn't care for him it would be unpleasant. The impatient plunge of an inexperienced lover still laces the way he makes out with you, and it's clingy, it's forceful, it's desperate. At its end, he sucks your bottom lip between his, dragging it through his teeth. Plump, wet, and pink he speaks against yours, hushed and hurried. "Say you love me." he breathes—another plea, delicately concealed.

"Say you love me." he asks again, holding your gaze while he enters you. The fragile flinch of his softened features endears you, reintroducing his sex to yours as if its his first time—like the sensation is just too much, evidenced by the hitch in his throat when he questions you.

He sinks to the hilt over and over again, using his own hands to wrap your legs around his hips, keeping you close in embrace. He squeezes his eyes shut, grunting through his mouth from effort as he buys your love with his body, begs for your attention through his pitying ministrations. "Say you love me." he pleas one more time. "Please- please, I need you. Even if you don't mean it, even if you hate me... just... just..."

You bite hard into your lip, trying to think your way through the pleasure coursing through your veins. Skin hot and mind occupied, you clutch onto him as if he grounds you. In the dull light of the room, you find his eyes again, glossy and bloodshot. You palm his cheek, and his face softens. "I love you." you concede. The wall you've put up begins to dismantle.

[wolverigrl]

Rumors

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

Warnings: smut! Only 18+!, swearing, angsty, fluffy

!Disclaimer! If you'd like to skip the smut, scroll down as soon as you see "---" in the text. From there, the smut part begins and ends at the next "---"!

Enjoy!

Previous Part

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

It's been five months. Five months since our first date, and yet somehow, it feels like both forever and no time at all.

I sit here now, in the gym, watching him lift weights like it’s nothing, and I’m struck by just how lucky I feel. From the very beginning, it was like we found our rhythm without even trying - our relationship is built on mutual respect and trust. We give each other space when needed, and t's refreshing to be with someone who values independence as much as I do.

The dates we've had so far have been perfect in their own way. Our second one was at this hidden gem of a restaurant tucked away in the city. I remember how he laughed when I spilled wine on the tablecloth, and how his hand brushed mine as we reached for the same napkin. We've done simple things too, like grabbing coffee early in the morning or working out. Once, we spent an afternoon at an old bookstore, getting lost in the aisles of dusty novels and sharing passages that made us laugh. Every moment with him feels like a memory in the making

And yet, it all changed a little last month when we were spotted. We hadn't been careful enough. A quick kiss in a park, something so innocent, but the paparazzi caught us. The next day, our picture was splashed across every tabloid and social media. That unintentional confirmation of our relationship wasn't what we had planned. Neither of us wanted the world in on our private lives.

Still, we've dodged every question thrown at us in interviews or on social media. But avoiding the questions doesn't stop the criticism.

The age gap. It's what everyone seems to latch onto. Hugh's used to it - He’s been doing this long enough to know how to handle the press, the rumors, the gossip. But me? I’m still learning how to deal with it. I try to act like it doesn't bother me. I nod along, tell everyone I'm fine, but inside, it's harder than I thought it would be. Some of the comments sting more than I care to admit. I've been in relationships before, but none of them were "public" like this. My exes were all from my private circle - well, except for Chris, but that doesn't count. That was way before either of us was well-known. This, with Hugh, is different. It's out there.

I didn’t want that. I wanted to keep us private for a while longer, to hold onto this little piece of normalcy for just us. But now it’s out, and there’s no taking it back.

Now everything is under scrutiny. People question our relationship and my motives. Of course there are fans who are supportive - sweet comments, even some who come up to me on the street and say they love us together. But then there are the others. The ones who say I’m only with him to advance my career, that I’m using him to get ahead. Ever since our last movie together, I’ve been getting bigger roles, and some people think that’s because of him. Like I can’t earn anything on my own.

I try to brush it off, but there are moments when those words hit hard. And even though Hugh has told me a thousand times to ignore it. I’m not like him. I haven’t been in the spotlight for decades. I don’t have the thick skin he’s developed over the years.

Our managers weren’t thrilled either when they found out we’d been seeing each other behind their backs. It wasn’t anger, really, more disappointment that we hadn’t trusted them enough to let them in on it. But in a way, I’m glad we didn’t. We needed this to just to be ours for a while.

Still, despite all the noise, the criticism, the rumors—there’s comfort between us. We act like a real couple. We’ve never had the talk, though, about what we are exactly. Are we officially together? I don’t even know. We’ve just kind of fallen into this routine, and honestly, love it. I love the way he makes me feel like I’m the only person in the world when we’re together.

My eyes drift back to him as he lowers the weights, his muscles tensing with the effort. He's ridiculously strong, and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a turn on. God, he’s attractive. And sweet. And patient. And funny. Sometimes I catch myself even fangirling. I mean, it's still Hugh fucking Jackman. How did I get so lucky?

“You good, y/n?" Hugh’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts, and I realize I’ve been staring.

“Yeah." I say, quickly covering up my awkwardness with a grin. “Just appreciating the view.”

His eyes narrow, that playful smile tugging at his lips. He walks over, sweat still glistening on his skin, and towers above me, crossing his arms. “You know, you could’ve just taken a picture.”

“Maybe I will next time,” I tease, leaning back on the bench.

He chuckles, the sound warm and rich. “Or you could just join me instead of sitting over there like a creep.”

“Please. I did twice as many reps as you did earlier,” I say, pretending to wipe imaginary sweat from my brow. “I deserve a break.”

“Is that right?” He raises an eyebrow, leaning down so we’re almost face-to-face. “Pretty sure I saw you struggling with those squats.”

“I wasn’t struggling." I protest, trying to keep a straight face, but his cocky grin is making it impossible.

“You say that now, but your form—”

“My form was perfect!” I laugh, pushing his arm lightly. “Stop acting like you weren’t impressed.”

“Oh, I was impressed." he admits, his voice dropping an octave. “Just not with your workout.”

The heat between us flares up in an instant, the way it always does when he looks at me like that. There’s this pull, this magnetic energy that I haven’t felt in a while. We flirt, we tease, we push each other’s buttons, and it’s exhilarating. But there’s always this line we haven’t fully crossed yet. We get close - so close - but we always pull back.

We go back and forth like this until we wrap up our workout. Hugh's leaving for Sydney tomorrow to visit his family for a few weeks, but his kids won't be able to join him because they're going on holiday with their mom, so it'll just be him this time

I'll admit, I already miss him so much. I don't really know what to do yet. So far, we've spent pretty much every day together, but now that the interviews are slowly getting fewer and everyday life is getting quieter, it's getting boring without someone to keep me on my toes. I guess Ryan and Blake will have to take over.

After the gym, we head back to his place, still bickering about who did better with which exercises. By the time we're on the couch, it's turned into playful shoving and teasing until his lips are on mine, and everything else fades away. God, I’ve missed this. I’ve missed the way his lips feel on mine, the way his touch sets my skin on fire.

But just as things are about to cross that line again, I pull away, leaving him breathless and staring at me in confusion.

"You’re impossible." he mutters, running a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his voice.

I smile sweetly, standing up and stretching. “I need a shower.”

"You’re an absolutely evil woman!" he calls after me as I walk toward the bathroom, but I don’t turn around. I can feel his eyes on me the whole way.

I can't help but smile to myself as I undress and step into the shower. The hot water cascades down my skin, but my mind is elsewhere - back on the couch, replaying the way his hands felt on me, the way his breath hitched when I kissed him. It's getting harder to hold back, to not give in to the growing desire between us. We've come close before - so many times - but for some reason, we always stop right pefore things get too far. It's like we're both waiting for the perfect moment. I'm not in a rush, but God, he makes it so hard to resist.

But it’s not just physical. It’s him. It’s the way he looks at me, the way he makes me feel seen. I’ve never been so comfortable with someone, and that scares me a little. I’m falling for him - hard - and I’m terrified of what that means. We’ve never even talked about what we are, and here I am, thinking about how much I want him, how much I love him.

The thought stops me in my tracks. Am I in love with him? My heart pounds in my chest, and I realize that, yes, I probably am. But I don’t know if he feels the same way. What if this is just something casual for him? What if I bring it up, and he doesn’t feel the same? He’s never pressured me, never pushed for more, and sometimes I wonder if he’s happy with how things are - just casual, just fun.

When I'm done, I slip into my pajamas - just a simple tank top and shorts - and head into the bedroom. Hugh's sitting on the edge of the bed, scroling through his phone, but he glances up when I walk in.

"Took you long enough." he says with a mischievous grin. "Were you thinking about me in there?"

I smirk, leaning against the doorway.

"Maybe?"

He laughs, setting his phone down and standing up. He walks over to me, placing one hand on my hip, the other cupping my face. His lips brush mine in a teasing kiss, his hand sliding down to give my ass a playful squeeze.

"Behave." I mutter, but my voice betrays me, sounding more breathless than I intended.

"Why? I thought you like it when I don’t." he says, that teasing grin never faltering.

Before I can respond, he pulls away and heads to the bathroom. "I'll be right back."

I sighed and lay down on the bed and looked thoughtfully at the ceiling.

Before I can lose myself in my thoughts again, I hear the water turn off, and a minute later, Hugh steps back into the room, still dripping wet and wrapped only in his towel, which hangs dangerously low. I can't take my eyes off him. He's searching through the dresser, muttering something about forgetting his boxers, but I don't hear the words. My heart pounds in my chest, and I know - I know - this is it. I can’t hold back anymore.

Without second guessing, I get up and cross the room, moving toward him without a word. He watches me, his brow furrowing in slight confusion, but there’s something else there too.

When I reach him, I stop, just inches away, and look up at him. I don’t say anything for a long moment. I just let myself feel the weight of this moment.

---

Finally, I find my voice, though it’s softer than I expected. “I want you.”

His eyes widen slightly, and for a moment, I think I’ve surprised him. But then, something shifts in his expression, and the air between us thickens. He steps closer, his hand coming up to cup my cheek as he studies my face.

“Are you sure?” His voice is low, husky, and I can see the restraint in his eyes. He’s giving me an out. One last chance to change my mind. But I don’t want out. Not anymore.

“Yes." I whisper, barely able to speak past the lump in my throat. “I’m sure.”

That’s all it takes. In an instant, his lips are on mine, and the kiss is different this time - deeper. Hungrier. His hands move to my waist, pulling me against him, and I wrap my arms around his neck, melting into his touch.

Before I know it, he’s lifting me off the ground, my legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. I can feel the heat radiating off him, the roughness of the towel against my skin. His grip tightens, and I’m suddenly aware of just how much I want him - how much I’ve always wanted him.

The kiss grew more intense, more desperate, and I can feel the last remnants of our restraint crumbling. He carries me over to the bed, his towel loosening around his hips, and gently lays me down. Our breaths are ragged, our bodies pressed together in a way that makes it impossible to think of anything else.

His kisses moved to my neck while one of his hands disappeared under my top. I gasped softly and ran my hands over his strong back. He began to gently squeeze my breast as I pressed his hips against mine with my legs, clearly feeling his arousal. Breathing heavily, he rubbed his groin against me and applied more pressure to my breast.

"Please." I said softly and looked at him greedily. "Please what, love?" he broke away from my lips and straightened up a little to get a better look at my face.

I couldn't help myself and looked down to his towel, which was now hanging down so low that you could see his perfect v-line clearly, as well as the vein under his belly button.

I swallowed and also straightened up to pull my top over my head.

"Fucking hell." he muttered quietly. I lay back down with my arms over my head and looked straight at him. "Just stop holding back and fuck me already."

He didn't need to be told twice and leaned over me again. The kiss was wilder than before and I felt like his hands were everywhere. I was in such a trance that I didn't even notice that he had already thrown my shorts on the floor. It was only when I felt his fingers on my clit that I realized it. I gasped out loud and dug my fingers in his hair and shoulders as he caressed my neck and circled his thumb over my clit. I was a complete wreck. Everything happened so quickly, but somehow it also didn't. I pressed my knees into Hugh's sides and pushed my pelvis towards him as he slid two fingers inside me. I moaned loudly and pushed my head back into the pillow. Suddenly I felt an electrifying sensation as he ran his tongue around my breast and sucked on it. He curled his fingers in and moved his hand faster. I moaned loudly again and pressed my nails firmly into his shoulder as a pleasurable feeling came over me in my abdomen.

Hugh's kisses moved back up to my lips until he released his heavy breath and slid his fingers out of me.

He looked at me full of lust and totally befuddled. I had never seen him like this before. But seeing him like this almost made me go crazy myself. He smiled gently at me and stroked a few strands of hair from my face. "You're so damn beautiful."

I felt my face flush and ran my hands down his torso to his dick, smiling. He breathed heavily and closed his eyes as I slowly began to stroke him.

I clenched around nothing and bit my lip as I looked at him.

He looked at me again, bent both my legs and pulled my hands away, to stroke his own member. He rubbed his pre-cum wet tip against my clit and looked deep into my eyes. It made me absolutely feral.

"Hell. Stop fucking teasing!" I growled. Without another word, he slid into me and put my legs over his shoulders. I moaned loudly and curled my toes. He was breathing heavily and you could see how much he was controlling himself.

"You're so fucking tight." He slowly began to move his hips and it drove me wild when I felt him filling me up. "Baby please don't hold back." I moaned and closed my eyes.

"Eyes on me my love." he groaned and thrusted harder. I gasped, a little startled, and looked him straight in the eyes. My hands disappeared into his hair again and his speed increased steadily. I felt everything slowly boiling up inside me and I clenched hard around his dick. That eye contact. His moans. The sounds of our bodies hitting each other and the thick air in the room. Everything began to spin around me and I could no longer maintain eye contact.

"I'm gonna cum!" I moaned as I felt him thrusting even deeper than before. Hugh now closed his own eyes, let my legs off his shoulders and pressed both my hands over my head with one hand to stimulate my clit with the other. He was panting loudly himself. "Cum for me baby. I wanna see how you cum all over me."

That gave me the rest and for a brief moment I thought I was seeing the white light. My legs were shaking like crazy and I felt an incredible pull in my abdomen. Hugh moaned with me and let go of me to support himself with his forearms next to my head instead.

Panting, he rested his head in the crook of my neck while I stroked his sweaty back. Shortly afterwards, I felt his rhythm become more and more irregular until he did a last hard thrust and moaned loudly. The sound of his voice and the feeling of his pulsing dick made my skin crawl and I pressed myself tightly against him with my legs and arms.

There was complete silence for a moment. I could only hear our panting and our heartbeats in the room.

I felt his semen leaking out of me and slowly running down my bottom.

Hugh pulled away to lay down next to me and pulled me to his side before kissing me on the forehead. I smiled at him and stroked his sweaty chest with my hand.

"We should probably have done it before the shower." Hugh said with a smirk and looked at me.

"Or in the shower." He laughed and nodded.

---

After cleaning up, we lay together, our bodies entwined under the blanket. The room is quiet, except for the sound of our breathing slowly returning to normal. Hugh is beside me, his arm draped over my waist, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on my skin. I can feel the rise and fall of his chest against my back, and there’s a comfort in the silence between us.

But there’s also a weight, a need to say something. To define this.

I shift slightly, turning so I can face him. His eyes meet mine, and for a moment, neither of us says anything. Then, softly, I ask. "Do you ever… worry? About what people say about us?”

His brow furrows slightly, and he brushes a strand of hair from my face before answering. “What people say? You mean the age thing?”

I nod, feeling a lump in my throat. “Yeah. And the way they watch us. The paparazzi, the rumors… It’s just hard sometimes.”

He presses a soft kiss to my forehead, his hand gently cupping the back of my head. “I know it’s hard, y/n and I’m sorry you have to deal with all that because of me.”

“It’s not your fault,” I say quickly. “I just… sometimes I don’t know how to handle it. But I don't want to be that person who lets the outside world affect what we have." I whisper. "But sometimes it just... gets to me."

"You're not that person." he assures me, his voice firm but gentle. "You're human. And it's okay to feel that way. The important thing is that we talk about it, like we're doing now.. And you don’t have to handle it alone." he murmurs, his lips brushing my temple. “I’m here. We’re in this together.”

His words are soothing, but there’s still a part of me that struggles with the reality of our situation. I bite my lip, hesitating before speaking again. “Sometimes I wonder… if maybe we shouldn’t—”

“Hey." he interrupts softly, his thumb grazing my cheek. “Don’t go there. We’re good, okay? We’re more than good.”

I close my eyes, leaning into his touch. “I know. I just don’t want it to get too complicated.”

Hugh is silent for a moment, then he asks quietly. “Would it help if we made it official?”

I blink, my heart skipping a beat. “Official?”

He gives me a small smile, his eyes soft as he looks at me. “Yeah. Maybe then they will stop harassing us with their questions." For a moment we both were silent before he started to speak again. "Like… would you want to be my girlfriend?”

My heart swells at the simplicity of his question and made me speechless. Then I slowly nod, a smile spreading across my face. “Yeah." I whisper. “I’d like that.”

He grins, pulling me closer and pressing his lips to mine in a soft, lingering kiss. We stay like that for a while, wrapped in each other, content.

After a while, he pulls back, looking thoughtful. “You know, I’m heading to Australia tomorrow to visit family.”

I nod, already knowing. “Yeah, you mentioned that. How long will you be gone?”

“A few weeks." he says, his fingers brushing over my arm absently. “But… I was thinking. What if you came with me?”

I blink in surprise. “To Sydney?”

“Yeah. I mean, only if you want to. No pressure. I just thought it’d be nice… spending some more time together. Away from all this.”

I hesitate, the idea both exciting and terrifying. “I don’t know, Hugh. It feels… fast. I haven’t even met your family yet.”

He chuckles softly. “You wouldn’t have to. Not unless you wanted to. It can just be the two of us. We can do whatever you want. I just want to spend time with you."

I smile softly at his words, feeling my heart swell.

“I’ll think about it,” I say softly, leaning my head against his chest. His heartbeat is steady beneath my ear, a calming rhythm that soothes the anxiety swirling in my mind.

“Good,” he murmurs, running his fingers gently through my hair. “That’s all I ask. No pressure.”

I bite my lip, thinking it over. The idea is tempting - really tempting.

"Okay." I say, making the decision. "I'II come. But maybe I'll fly out a week later. That way I can maybe meet up with Blake and Ryan, maybe even visit Chris in Boston."

Hugh nods, a relieved smile spreading across his face. "Deal. A week later, and we'll have the best time. Just you and me."

We share another soft kiss, and can't help but laugh against his lips.

After our conversation, we lay there for a little while longer, basking in the afterglow of everything we’d just shared. The weight that had been pressing on my chest for weeks felt lighter now that we’d talked about it.

Eventually, we sat up, and the idea struck me - if we were really ready to move forward, maybe it was time to let the world know about us on our own terms.

“I was thinking…” I start, glancing over at him. “We should post a photo of us."

Hugh’s eyebrows lifted in slight surprise. “You sure about that?”

I nod, feeling a sense of resolve I hadn’t felt before. “Yeah. I mean the media already knows about us and we can't hide anymore. So why not?"

A smile tugs at his lips, and he reaches for his phone on the bedside table. “Alright, I’m in. Let’s take a picture then.”

I chuckle. “But maybe we should put on some clothes first?”

Hugh laughs softly, the sound sending a warmth through me. “Yeah, I suppose we shouldn’t scandalize the internet too much.”

As I sit up, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the bedroom mirror and grimace slightly. My hair’s a mess from… well, everything, and I’m definitely not looking my best. “Ugh. I look awful.”

Hugh stands up and shakes his head with an amused smile. “You look perfect,” he says, casually reaching into his closet for a shirt. He pulls one on, his muscles stretching the fabric in a way that makes it hard for me to focus. “Come on, we’ll take a cute one.”

I roll my eyes playfully but grab one of his T-shirts from the drawer. “Fine, but if I look weird, we’re deleting it.”

“No way!” he teases, pulling me into his arms once I have the shirt on. “You could never look weird.”

I can’t help but laugh as he wraps his arms around me from behind. He holds the phone up in front of us, angling it to get the perfect shot. “Okay, smile!”

I glance up at him just as he snaps the picture. My smile turns into a laugh, the joy bubbling out of me before I can stop it. I look ridiculous, but when I see the photo, it’s kind of perfect. Hugh’s grinning at the camera, looking all charming and effortlessly handsome as always, while I’m gazing up at him, clearly laughing and obviously so in love.

I bite my lip, hesitating. “I don’t know… I look a little -"

“You look great." Hugh cuts in, his tone firm but soft. “Come on, y/n. This is us. It’s real.”

I glance at the picture again. He’s right. It’s not some polished, perfect photo shoot - it's just us. Happy, in love, and completely ourselves. I sigh, giving in. “Okay, fine. Let’s post it.”

He beams at me, clearly pleased, and starts typing a caption on his phone. I lean over his shoulder to read it:

>>thehughjackman: Caught laughing at all the rumors... guess they weren't all wrong🤫 #couplegoals<<

I laugh, rolling my eyes playfully "#CoupleGoals? Really?"

"You're right." he says, smirking as he backspaces. "How about.. #HughJackedY/n?"

I swat him laughing, and he finally posts it without any hashtag.

I take my smartphone and also post it with another caption:

>>y/ninstagram: Who knew Wolverine was such a softie?❤️🐺<<

And just like that, it’s out there. The world now knows officially. My heart pounds a little faster as the notifications start rolling in almost instantly. I feel a rush of nervous excitement—what will people say?

We sit there, watching as the comments flood in, one after another.

>>vancityreynolds: Took you long enough!<<

>>blakelively:This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Love you both!<<

>>ChrisEvans: Treat her right or Cap's coming for you!💪🏻<<

>>zendaya: Omg, stop! You guys are ADORABLE<<

>>officialladydeadpoolmovie: Deadpool approves of this union. Carry on.<<

I glance at Hugh as the comments keep pouring in, feeling a strange mixture of warmth and relief. There’s so much love here—so many people supporting us. It’s overwhelming in the best way.

“I told you it’d be fine,” Hugh says, his voice soft. He nudges me gently with his shoulder. “And look, everyone’s happy for us.”

I smile at him, feeling lighter than I have in days. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

More comments continue to roll in, some from fans, some from friends:

>>florencepugh: I KNEW IT!!!<<

But it’s the fan comments that really make me smile:

>>lordyx3z: Omg, I knew they were together! This makes me so happy!🥹😩<<

>>serenax77: Remember when y/n literally said 'fuck me' during an interview? Manifesting at its finest😂😂😭<<

>>hugh4ewa: Hugh, blink twice if y/n's forcing you to post couple pics😂<<

>>y/nno1fan: About damn time! Y'all had me waiting like the post credits scene of a Marvel Movie!<<

>>mynameseve: I need somebody to look at me, like y/n looks at Hugh😭❤️<<

>>girlpoolxpoppins: Can somebody pls check on Ryan? ASAP<<

>>boyinyellwspndx: y/n: "fck me!" - Hugh: "Say less". Dreams come true folks<<

I can’t help but grin at the flood of positivity. Sure, I know there will be some haters - there always are - but for now, it feels like we’re surrounded by love and support, and that’s all that matters. I glance at Hugh again, my heart swelling as he scrolls through the comments, laughing at some of the more playful ones.

“This was a good idea.” I say quietly, resting my head on his shoulder.

He turns his head slightly, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Of course it was.” he murmurs. “Now everyone knows you’re officially mine.”

I laugh softly, my heart feeling full. “And you’re mine.”

We sit there for a while, reading through the comments and enjoying the moment. It feels like a weight has been lifted, like we’re finally free to be ourselves without worrying about what anyone else thinks.

And honestly? It feels perfect.

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

@spectorrrhgf @tinawantstobeadoll @appetencyfortacos @weskerussy @kellyxo1 @larkkyoris @shukirschtein14 @corvusmorte @carefree-flowerchild @rexmeshlasblog @melmel-fandom @needz1nk @nonamevenus @morganlolitta @angelofthorr @pickuptruck01

Next part

[towasdandelion]

what if confession texts with the ghouls 👉👈👉👈 and how they/reader confessed ISJDJSKSJDJSJK and maybe with pookie wookie romeo BUT NO PRESSURE TAKE UR TIME /GEN SJDJSJKDJS TY IN ADVANCE I LOVE UR TEXT MSG POSTS SOSOSOSO MUCH 😭😭🩷🩷

I'm glad you like my posts (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) I was planning to do something like that sooner or later hehe, for now let's go with the scenario where you're the one confessing! Hope you like it (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

Sinostra and Vagastrom ghouls when you confess to them

Romeo? Well.. his pride says "I'm not surprised" but his heart and his head are a mess. He paces around the room. Will literally take him minutes to text back, typing then erasing every message, his finger always just hovering over the 'send' button. He feels kind of.. embarrassed. How dare you make him feel like some fool? And confessing to him instead of waiting for him to do so? The audacity!! Deep, deep down he's happy though. He's happy he didn't have to be the one to say those awkward words first. And honestly it's for the better because his confession would be probably a text saying "Don't you ever dare to die!" Or something like that..

Ritsu, our calm and collected gentleman! Or so it seems. To be honest he got exactly what you meant. But just in case he got the wrong idea he decides to play it safe. He feels incredibly relieved once it turns out you're in love with him too.. because being business partners just wasn't enough for him. Don't be fooled though. Behind that calm mask of his there is a blushy Ritsu who can barely keep a straight face while sitting in the library. Must. Upkeep. The reputation. He quickly gathers his things before leaving the building in a hurry to get some fresh air. He then sits down on the nearest bench, takes out his notebook and begins writing everything he wants to say once you two meet.

Taiga loves playing games. Any games. Well, he didn't exactly expect to fall for anyone but since it happened, he's just going to roll with it. Grins to himself when he reads your message. So you finally found the courage huh. How did he know you're in love with him? Don't ask me, it's Taiga. He feels a rush of excitement as the conversation goes on, already imagining the look on your face when he takes you in his arms first thing when you meet up. After the text exchange he won't be able to sleep anymore. He will lazily stroll around Sinostra with a grin on his face that scares pretty much everyone who sees him.

Leo. Things were going well. So well. You just confessed and the ball was now in his hands. And what does he do? Makes himself look pathetic. The texts were obviously meant for Sho. He immediately deletes them. But it's too late. He throws his phone on the bed before grabbing a pillow and letting out a dramatic scream. Will probably avoid you for like a week out of embarrassment. Try to make fun of him and he'll gaslight the shit out of you. What messages?? What are you talking about??? He's so desperate he will even try to twist the situation, laughing that you probably dream about it. At this point just grab his face and kiss him. Trust me, it will work like a charm.

Sho's eyes widen. What was meant as a joke, actually turned out to be true. You just confessed to him. He's stunned, but it only lasts a moment. This is the perfect opportunity to mess with you a little. Not to upset you, just to see if you know that he likes you too. You don't huh? Well that only gives him more of a reason to tease you. Will kind of panic after the exchange though.. hoping he didn't take it too far. Will patiently wait to see if you show up. If you do, you can count on a lot of teasing smiles and subtle touches before he actually says that he likes you too.

Alan doesn't want to believe his luck. You really like him. And not just that. You like him more than a friend. He sighs deeply, thinking what he should reply. He obviously doesn't want to reject you. But he thinks you really do deserve someone better than him. He feels bad about accepting your feelings, even after you reassure him. It might take him a while to process this. The actual conversation will happen after a week or so, with him asking if you're sure of this. Please do take your time to reassure him that he's the one for you.

[shin-kenooubu]

Confession Headcanons!

featuring: Ranpo Edogawa

(sfw, fluff, gn!reader, no content warnings)

• author's note: more ranpo because i love him.

Ranpo isn't used to being uncertain about things, in fact, there is nothing in the world that he is less accustomed to. He always has things figured, it's always taken him seconds and it somehow takes him Even Less Time to blabber out the answer.

But that certainty comes from cold hard facts. Feelings are far, far, faaaar trickier.

So obviously. Instead of figuring out a way to put his feelings into proper words and going through the grueling feeling of vulnerability and heat rushing into his face and down his neck.

He makes you do it.

Eventually, you won't be able to keep quiet about your feelings and he knows this. But at the rate you're going, it's going to take ages. So he's going to help speed up the process! Because someone needs to confess.

And its certainly not going to be him. For obvious reasons.

So heres now it goes:

- All up in your space. He knows you get flustered when he's near. Filing some paperwork? He's sitting on your desk. Taking a break on the couch? He's sitting down and draping his legs over your lap. You're taking your lunch break? He's hungry too!!! Buy him a treat!!!

- Makes you accompany him whenever he gets sent out. It doesn't matter if you can drive or not, he'll tell you everything he's already figured out about the case on the way there regardless! He's basically figured it all out already anyways. Isn't that impressive? Isn't he the best? Praise him, please and thank you.

- Compliments you. Indirectly. All the other members of the ADA always mention how highly Ranpo seems to think of you. It's clear that he values your input, he finds you incredibly dependable as well, y'know, he's even mentioned that you're pretty easy on the eyes. Don't tell him they told you that, though. (It's all part of his master plan.)

- Shares. His supply is dwindling even faster because of you! You should feel honored. Or maybe not. He doesn't actually mind, don't feel bad for taking anything. Hurry up and eat the damn thing already.

- Listens to you. Actively. He makes sure to show that he's paying attention to you because he knows that you appreciate it. He doesn't really get it, he's always listening even if it looks like he's busy playing around. But feelings are weird and fragile. He'll be a little extra careful with yours.

- Makes an effort to not insult your intelligence. Not that he ever actually means to, his wording is just off. Which is why recently you've found him growing quiet in conversations for a few seconds. A small pout on his lips as he considers his words before snapping right back into place and continuing whatever tirade he was going on. All without throwing out an indirect jab. It's cute, and also very thoughtful.

- Minimizes the opportunities you have to get hurt in his plans. Obviously some things don't come together as neatly as one might hope but damnit if he isn't finding a way to keep you safe. You can be useful And out of harms way.

He's obvious, he doesn't trust you to not brush off his vaguer advances as him simply being friendly. He wants you to get the hint. Needs you to, really, because he's sick of pining just as much as you are.

When you do eventually ask to speak to him privately, invite him into your space and sit him down, his heart pounds.

Ranpo knows the outcome of this, he's set it in motion for weeks, maybe even months, but theres still Doubt.

He can't see the future.

He can infer it, maybe. Can imagine a future where you and him are happy, where everyday, the two of you lay in bed together, and you smile at him as you run your fingers through his black hair and his mind grows muddy.

But this isn't like any simple murder case. He knows some facts, yeah, but none of it will ever, ever be enough to be Certain. Certain of you and him. Together. It scares him.

But when you take his hands in yours, a little clammy from nerves, and whisper your feelings to him, he can't help but surge forward and press his lips to yours.

A wide smile. A simple, "I know."

You can feel his quiet laughter on your face.

He's lucky he didn't wheeze it out, with how tight his chest feels from pure giddiness.

[mythicmanuscripts]

Hey, I actually started watching HOTD just some days ago (thanks to tumblr constantly throwing fics at me with very promising summaries and gifs of very pretty men until I couldn't resist any more) and now I keep rereading everything you write about Aegon because it's just so good and just everything I need.

Could I maybe request some more about Aegon crying during sex, maybe he tries to hide it but he can't keep it quite so his wive notices anyways. I'm currently just really addicted to the idea of holding him and telling him he's doing fine

And thank you so much for everything you've written ❤️

Absolutely we can discuss all of this!!! I am always glad to welcome another into the crybaby!aegon agenda. I intended for this to be fully soft and smutty and well... there's a fair amount of angst too I am sorry in in advance but I promise it ends well!! Also this got so far away from me oh my god I thought I was writing a quick blurb and it turned into one of the longest pieces I've ever written.

Soft NSFW sub!aegon below the cut :))

So obviously as we all know, Aegon is not exactly a virgin. You knew this going into your marriage with him, hell just about every person in the entire seven kingdoms knew this. You were fine with it, well, as fine as you can be. You weren't expecting a marriage of love, or even of companionship. You knew you'd have to give him a few heirs, and then after that you doubted you'd even see much of him. That was fine, you wanted to be queen and you are queen. You can withstand a bit of Aegon's infidelity for that title.

What you don't expect, however, is how utterly shocked and taken with you your new husband seems to be the moment you show him any amount of human decency? It's like he expected you to actively try to kill him and the fact that you actually greet him in the mornings and ask him how his day went during dinner means he must now follow you around like some sort of sad puppy?

Meanwhile for Aegon, he was also certain he'd just make some heirs and then barely see you. I think his belief would mostly be because of Allicent actually? All Allicent ever told him from the moment he came of age was how much of a disappointment he was and how she would need to find a way to ensure that he doesn't completely fuck up the entire of the seven kingdoms. And when she tells him that she's found him a wife, he immediately knows she would have chosen someone who was with her agenda and would have already convinced the person that he would be useless.

But, nevertheless, he decided he would do his duty.

What he did not expect, however, was how... cordial you were with him? And not only that, you seemed to actually try to be nice to him?? He really doesn't know what to do with himself when he comes into your shared quarters after dinner to perform his required duties and instead of just rolling over and telling him to be done with it, you actually start by talking to him? And... and asking about his day??

And then when he answers, you respond? And you lament with him about how ridiculous and uptight most of the people in the castle are? He's so shocked that you even want to converse with him at all.

He doesn't even end up trying for an heir. He just... has an hour long conversation with you that ends with him nearly falling asleep against your shoulder and then when he realises the position he's in, he quickly bids you goodnight and leaves to his quarters.

It goes like that for a little while, except now you seem to be seeing Aegon everywhere? It's like he's actually trying to run into you as much as possible so that he can ask what you've been doing and have even the smallest conversation with you.

It reaches a point where you actually start to see his eyes light up every time he sees you, and well, you have no fucking idea what to do with that because your husband hasn't tried for an heir since your wedding night and has instead been scrambling for any ounce of your attention.

You consider going to Allicent about it, because she's starting to ask questions about whether you've bled for the month yet or not to figure out if you have an heir for them, but then you decided it against it because honest Aegon just looks so happy? You know if you speak to Allicent then she will set Aegon straight and it'll go back to how it was the first night. You don't want that. You don't want to see the weight back on Aegon's shoulders.

I actually think that as you get closer, and Aegon starts to realise he might have a real genuine confidant, he gets more and more nervous about actually having sex with you?

Aegon thinks he knows all there is to know about sex, and he's certainly has enough women in his bed to understand the mechanics if nothing else, but he doesnt want that with you. The women in the brothels he's been with... sure it felt good but deep down he knew it was fake and they knew it too. They'd put on a show for him, do whatever they thought would make him happy and while yes it most certainly did make him happy, it also made him... empty? Yeah, empty.

As he gets to know you and enjoy being with you, his heart starts to ache at the thought of you going into that mode that all the others seemed to where they just let him get his business over with and then promptly left the room. He knows that's what you're supposed to do, but he can't quite bring himself to do it because fuck he just, he really likes you and he's not sure where to go with this.

He's never had anyone actually make him feel safe before? And yeah you're extremely attractive but you also listen to him complain and make him laugh and genuinely care about him and he's just very lost.

He goes back to the brothel then, because he thinks he needs to just sleep with another woman and remind himself how good that feels and then he'll be able to bring himself to go do what he's supposed to do with you.

You don't know this of course.

Well, you don't know until about 2 hours after Aegon left for the brothel when he comes barging into your private chambers with tears in his eyes and promptly begs for forgiveness.

You obviously haven't a clue what's going on, but you pull him into a hug anyway and ask him what this is about.

Through many whines and sobs he eventually manages to explain that he went to a brothel, tried to fuck a whore and... couldnt? You try to get him to explain what he could mean by that and he kinda just buries his head in his hands and sobs even harder.

So at this point you've fully given up trying to figure out what's going on and you just pull him against your chest and press soft kisses into his hair. He melts against you, his body going slack as he nuzzles his nose against the exposed skin at your gown's neckline.

Once he's calmed down, he still doesn't move, but he does manage to whisper what happened.

He went to a brothel intent on fucking a whore to get himself back into the swing of things and then the following day to actually fulfil his duties as husband. Except, the moment the brothel worker kissed him he felt terrible and pushed her off. They brought in more women, and he couldnt do it. He... he felt like he was betraying you.

Eventually you just pull away to make him look at you and ask him, "What do you want? Genuinely, what do you want?"

He's silent for a moment, then he surges forward and kisses you. It's the first time you've kissed him since your wedding night, and this time it's like he's melting into your arms.

You kiss him back, and you have to tug at his hair to make him stop so you can breathe and repeat the question. He tries to kiss you again, but you tighten your grip on his hair to prevent him. The whine he lets out at being denied is fucking sinful, but you won't give in until he's actually told you want he wants.

"Wanna... wanna be good for you," he says eventually, "I don't want to be how I was before, I don't want all that emptiness I just... how do I be good?"

This time, you're the one that starts the kiss and he lets you just manhandle him so easily. He's so pliant under you, whining and whimpering and looking insanely gorgeous as he tries to touch you.

You ride him, and fuck the way tears just run down his eyes as he thanks you and grips your hips is life changing. He's so good like this, all worked up and squirmy and so so turned on. But he doesn't act, not at all. You started this, and he's not going to do a thing, he wants to your plaything, nothing more.

He turns his head to the side as you start to ride him properly, trying to hide how tears are just streaming down his cheeks but you take his chin in your hand and turn him to face you. You stop riding him for a second to wipe the tears away.

"You're so good," you promise him, "couldnt even get yourself off anymore, huh?" He whines and nods and cries, because you get it, you get it.

"I'll take care of you then," you say, smirking when he actually groans in relief, "but," you carry on, "then you're mine, yeah? Only mine, no more brothels or whores or servants."

And fuck if that isnt the easiest promise he's ever made.

(Just a quick sidenote to end off this novel: We should discuss himbo!aegon with his queen who does absolutely everything. Yes he's technically the king but in practice his only job is to look pretty and listen to wife and he is truly living his absolute best life)

[weenwrites]

What if some of the TFP Decepticons (let’s say Soundwave, Starscream, Dreadwing) were keeping a secret romance with a human behind Megatron’s back? What will happen when Megatron inevitably finds out about it? (HCs please)

Secret Relationships

Summary - Secret relationships with giant robots stuck in a war can remain secret for only oh so long... Characters - Soundwave, Starscream, Dreadwing Content - Fluff, Angst Category - Headcanons Trigger Warnings - Character Death

✎ A/N: Thank you for the request! I had a lot of fun writing these!

[ Please do not repost, plagiarize, or use my writing for AI! Translating my work with proper credit is acceptable, but please ask first! ]

Soundwave

No one knows how exactly Soundwave ever fell in love with a human, let alone the reason why he kept it a secret, but if he was willing to go this far for you, then it means that you are—without a doubt—special to him (but what he sees in you is what makes everyone else aboard the Nemesis curious, once the secret's out of course).

The moment before the two of you began officially dating, they made it clear that you must keep the relationship a secret, and as such, this may not be the best or happiest relationship. Meetings must be secret and planned in advance, and he's more often than not kept aboard the Nemesis for work, meaning that it's a rare treat to even see him.

But they try their best to be a good partner. He frequently sends you gifts, and most of the time spent together is over texts, so it's kind of like a long-distance relationship. But whenever the two of you have a moment you can spend together in person, he enjoys going sightseeing. But he has to be careful about how frequently he uses groundbridges, because every destination is most likely recorded and kept on a datalog that he can't easily erase without arousing some suspicion.

The two of you have most likely spoken about the war before, and whether you decided to pop a question about leaving the decepticons is up to you. But he comes to learn that being around you makes them realize just how exhausting the war is. It never used to feel this draining. It never used to take such a massive toll on him. It never used to feel so... Hopeless. It's depressing, honestly, which makes him look forward to the little moments of peace he experiences whenever he sees you.

But those moments didn't last as long as he would've liked. They didn't know who may have done it, or how it happened, but when Megatron requested to meet with them, they never expected to learn that he would find out about you. Megatron forced them to explain themselves and to tell him all about you. But luckily he had prepared for this eventuality in advance, despite how depressing it is.

The two of you had talked about what would happen in the event that your relationship was discovered, and you both came up with 2 plans.

1. Fake your death. Say that Megatron found out about you, but he doesn't know your real name, where you lived, or any important information about you in general. Soundwave would risk giving him false information and leading him to kill someone else instead. Unfortunately in this eventuality, it will mean that the two of you can never see one another again, unless you both want to risk your lives again.

2. Bring you to the Autobots and entrust them to protect you. Let's say that in this eventuality, Megatron knows who you are, where you live, etc.. And depending on whether he's taken the initiative and taken you aboard the Nemesis, or still plans on taking you aboard, this plan has varying degrees of success. Ideally, Soundwave would contact the Autobots, requesting to meet, and he would bring you to the rendezvous coordinates and pass you off to them. It would be hard to make this appear as if the Autobots randomly showed up and stole you away, so once again, the chances are that you'll most likely never see eachother again, but in this case he's at a significantly bigger risk of dying.

But after some deep, deep thinking, he came up with a third. Leave the Decepticons. He loves you more than he can ever express, he loves you enough to even consider this option, but that doesn't make it any easier. He's dedicated a good portion of his life to the Decepticon cause, he's witnessed the rise of the cause, the loss that it brought, and the fall of Cybertron, but he still remained loyal to Megatron. But it all changed when he met you. He doesn't understand how or why he ever let you get as close as you did, but he wouldn't even dare to change a thing. It's just a shame that he can't chose this option now.

After he knows that lazerbeak has brought you to the autobots safely—after he finds a clawed hand digging into his plating and pinning him down, the pressure increasing ever so slightly and threatening to crush his throat—after shards of his visor fall to the floor, and there, he comes face to face with Megatron who glares down at him with nothing but disgust and malice—even now, he could look back on all that he's gone through with you to where he's found himself now, and his only regret is that he didn't have enough time for you. No matter the outcome, they're prepared to face whatever comes for them.

Starscream

How the two of you met and let alone even became a couple is a story that not a single soul will ever know, but honestly given the situation the two of you are in, you'd both most likely think it's for the best.

Out of everyone else on the Nemesis, he knows well what will happen in the event that Megatron finds out about you, and he knows that the fallout of it all won't bode well for either of you. He's had nightmares about what would happen, and the worst one was where he was forced to kill you or else Megatron was going to do worse. He's rarely had that dream, but every time it's never failed to leave him worse than a shaking mess.

He understands that this isn't the easiest relationship to be in, and he feels guilty that all he can offer you are sparse gifts and comforting words through text rather than in person. So he tries his hardest to make what little time he does spend with you, the best days of your life.

It's hard to get resources to set up little picnics, or to even get you a wrapped gift, and it's even harder to hide it from the other decepticons, but he tries anyway for your sake despite the high risk it poses to you both. And some cons begin to notice that he seems rather eager to go outside for a flight, much more than he used to, so some begin to suspect that he may be up to something.

At times you even go weeks without hearing anything from him because it's too risky to send you even a single text. But every time this happens, he tries his best to make it up to you when he gets back to you. Yet no matter how many times you assure him that you forgive him with the most sincere look you can muster, that does nothing to silence the part of him that thinks: it won't be long until he'll hear you say those words for the last time.

He's grateful for your forgiveness each and every time, yet all good things will come to pass no matter how much he'd try to stop it. He just hopes that this ends with no blood or energon spilt, and that you'd walk away without so much as a measly scratch, but since when was Starscream ever that lucky?

One day, someone found out about you. He doesn't know who or how, but he'd personally hunt them down and damn them to the pits of Kaon if he was given even so much as just their name, but much to his misfortune, he's denied that possibility as he's forced to flee from the Nemesis and reach you before the other decepticons do.

Knowing you better than anyone, he's able to accurately guess where you might be that day, and with little time to spare he scoops you up and blasts off as he tries to communicate the gist of the situation in as little words as possible as he tries to avoid fleets of vehicons that have been sent after the two of you.

He can't keep running away forever, primarily because of your sake. You have a life of your own to live, and he'd rather throw himself into an active war zone than ruin your life. He hates having to do this, but if has to contract the autobots in order to keep you safe, then so be it. He sends a message under the guise that he's taken you hostage and demands for them to meet him at a set of specific coordinates, and if everything goes according to his half-baked plan, then you'll be safe.

But what about him, you ask? Starscream is visibly hesitant to answer, and even when he responds he doesn't truly answer your question. He simply assures you that the autobots will keep you safe because his first and foremost priority here is your own safety and welbeing. You may not see or hear from him for a while, but he'll be fine! He'll figure something out, you can count on his word for it.

Dreadwing

He hardly leaves the Nemesis unless he's dispatched for a mission, so it's very difficult for him to find any time to spend around you in person. Sure, he has free range of the Nemesis and he can leave and fly as he pleases, but the more he does this, the more suspicious it will look, so unfortunately for your sake and his, he has to keep your meetings in person few and far between.

But he makes it up to you in an abundance of text messages. Each message he sends you is long, eloquent, and teeming with his admiration for you, it's like a love letter of sorts, and each is more charming and sweet than the last. And despite how he may seem, he can be quite the conversationalist given the right topic, and he keeps rather entertaining conversations going between the two of you, and they more often than not last very late into the night.

He can be quite the romantic gentleman, and at times his words are so poetic (and maybe a little cheesy) that it might lead you to think that he seeks his inspiration from a beautiful blend of old, romantic cybertronian works and human love stories (or maybe it's from those cheesy romance movies that play in the drive-in theaters).

His favorite memory of the two of you together was when he took you out to stargaze. You were both talking about your ideal futures, and you had started, making sure to emphasize that you wanted him to be part of it for sure one day, no matter what happens. The moment was sweet, and despite however unlikely it was that the two of you would ever be able to spend your days together without any fear, he promised that one day he would be able to devote himself to you in the way he wishes he could, that he would be with you for eternity.

But eternity is never truly eternal. In an ever changing and evolving world where even the deepest secrets eventually come to light, that dream shriveled up and died the moment he had been summoned before Megatron to speak about his little "human pet" he's kept on the sidelines for so long now.

Though his lord's disdain and immeasurable disappointment was meant to shame him into correcting his ways and "disposing" of distractions like you as Megatron suggested if he were to regain his honor, he found himself far more concerned with your own safety. You're far more vulnerable than he is, and though the price he must pay for your safety is tantamount to sacrificing his own life, then so be it. He chose you, and now he is willing to pay any price and bear any burden that comes with it.

Though he has to break the sound barrier in order to do it, he manages to reach you in time and deliver you to safety. He quickly explains that he's informed the autobots of your situation and that you will be safe under their careful watch while he goes to face Megatron alone. But unfortunately no matter how many times you persuade him to come with you, even if Optimus was there to agree with you and help advocate your point, Dreadwing can't bring himself to do it.

Betraying the decepticon cause may be one thing, but to forget it all and run away with you is something he doesn't believe he can act upon--he promises that it's not that he doesn't love you, it's that he has a very complicated relationship with the cause now, and this is his way of properly dealing with it. Honor is a very important thing to him, you know this as well as he does, and this is something he must confront head-on, even if the chances of his survival are slim. No conniving plans, no tricks, no deceit, it is just him and Megatron.

And eventually, as he finds himself fading in and out of consciousness, overwhelming shame floods him. Not only has he betrayed the Decepticons, but he's betrayed his promise of an eternity with you. Even as he sees a blade slowly rise above his head, poised to strike at any second, all he can really think of is how he wishes he could plead for your forgiveness and do whatever he could to earn your love and trust again.