#and i could never hate them for that no matter what they did

[pearlessance]

I'll Crawl Home To Her

summary: all the ways joel miller loves his pretty, little wife. and all the ways she loves him right back.

pairing: husband!joel miller x wife!reader

warnings: explicit sexual content MDNI, traditional gender roles, pussy eating, vaginal sex, semi-public, exhibitionism kinda, dom/sub undertones, car sex, biting, dirty talk, joel is a certified munch, feminine reader, a whole bunch of tooth-rotting fluff

wc: 4.1k

note: something soft and sweet, tysm for reading, let me know what you think! <3

[masterlist] [read on AO3!]

Being Joel Miller's wife was, in short, marital bliss.

He loved taking care of you, and it showed in everything he did.

Joel always woke up earlier than you. On days he had to work, his alarm would rouse you just enough that you’d roll over to his side of the bed the moment he vacated it, soaking up his warmth and his scent, snuggling into his pillow. He’d kiss your forehead and tuck you in tight, and you’d fall asleep seconds after he whispered, “Have a good day, baby girl. Love you.”

And once you did finally roll out of bed, sunlight leaking in through the kitchen blinds, you’d find a fresh pot of coffee and your favorite mug sitting on the counter.

He worked long hours, but you could never fault him for it. He was doing it even in his old age to grant you the freedom to do any and everything you desired. Supporting you in all your endeavors no matter how fleeting.

When you’d picked up the hobby of gardening, Joel had taken you to three different greenhouses in one weekend and helped you till a section of the backyard to plant your seeds. And later that week, he’d come home with the back of his truck full of pretty white bricks to outline your garden with.

You’d mentioned once with your hands covered in suds how the dishes were your least favorite chore. You hated how they piled up so quickly, hated leaving them in the sink, how they felt never-ending.

“I can do the dishes, darlin’,” he’d said. “Just leave them for me an’ I’ll do ‘em after work every day.”

You loved him for the offer but refused. He already spoiled you enough as it is. You couldn’t imagine watching him standing at the sink every day after working for ten hours. “Are you crazy? No, I’d never let you do that.”

“Don’t bother me none,” he insisted. “S’only fair, considerin’ how good dinner is every night.”

The compliment made you flush, but still, you stood firm. Even when he’d come up behind you with a dish towel in hand, ready to take your place. You’d slapped his hands away. “Joel, no. Let me. Please.”

“Alright, fine,” he said, setting the towel on the counter. His hands found a new way to occupy themselves, though. Slipping beneath your skirt, squeezing at the softness of your thighs. “But at least let me get my desert.”

He’d had you bent over the countertop that night with your panties around your knees. He’d hummed his I love you’s against your spit-soaked clit in the middle of the kitchen and you’d felt like the most spoiled girl in the world. 

Even more so when he’d come home from work early the next day. He and Tommy walked through the front door with a brand new dishwasher in tow and spent all night assembling it.

Once, you’d been late coming back from the grocery store. Janet, the older woman who lived two houses down from you and Joel, had been berating the cashier for not accepting an expired coupon.

Confrontation had never been your strong suit, but it felt less like conflict and more like second nature to step in and defend a teenage girl just trying to do her job. You attempted to reason with Janet, explaining that it wasn’t the cashier's fault, that the use of her coupon perhaps just wasn’t meant to be. You’d even offered to pay for her entire shopping haul if it meant a break for the young girl. 

Of course, this wasn’t what Janet had wanted to hear, and she instead turned her anger on you. Your cheeks had warmed in embarrassment as she yelled your name aloud for all the other customers to hear, telling you to ‘keep your nose where it belonged.’ 

The whole interaction had frazzled you. But more than that, it had made you late. And while being screamed at so publically had certainly thrown you off kilter, the straw that broke the camel’s back was seeing Joel’s truck in the driveway when you got home. 

He had mentioned once how much he loved having someone to come home to. Had explained how seeing you standing there with a smile on your face waiting for him on the front porch every day made the long hours and unbearable heat worth it. But because of Janet, you weren’t there. 

Joel, your Joel—who always takes care of you, who would do anything for you, who puts your happiness above his own, the most selfless man you’ve ever known—had come home to an empty house. Worked twelve hours beneath the Texas sun to come home to absolute silence.

It didn’t matter that you’d left a note on the kitchen table, you’d meant to get back before he could ever read it.

The tears had come quickly. The embarrassment, the frustration, the anger you felt on that young girl’s behalf, came rushing to the surface all at once.

He’d left the door unlocked for you, like usual, and the moment you stepped inside you could hear the familiar, heavy sound of his boots on the wooden floor. “Hey, sweetheart. How was your—?”

Before he could ask any questions you’d flung yourself into his arms, needing comfort, needing to show him how much you loved him. To prove to him that you weren’t home but you wanted to be, more than anything. “I’m so sorry,” was all you managed to choke out. 

Joel, who valued your safety above all else, immediately stiffened yet pulled you closer, wrapping his big arms around your shoulders, his warm hand splayed across the small of your back. “Hey, hey—shh, what happened? Talk to me, sweet girl. C’mon.” 

He cradled your face in his palm, holding you gently as if you were the most precious thing because, to him, you are. He wiped your tears away with the rough pad of his thumb and listened as you explained, “I—I wasn’t here waiting for you! I’m sorry—I…I tried to come home as fast—as fast as I could but—!”

“S’okay, baby. I know you’ll always come home to me, alright? I’m not mad. Could never be mad at you, y’know that.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, to the arch of your brow, to the bridge of your nose. He rubbed soothing circles into your skin until your tears slowed and your breaths found their normal cadence once again. And then, because he knows you, he asked, “What really happened?”

And you tell him. Every detail. And Joel stands there, holding you, listening with bated breath. 

When you finish, he pulls his shoulders back with a newfound objective. “M’gonna go talk to Lee,” he said.

Janet’s husband was a good man, you knew. Similar to Joel in the way of being a nurturing sort of husband. A hard-working man with never a bad thing to say about anyone. “You don’t have to,” you tell Joel. “What she did was wrong but I’d rather she takes it out on me than a kid at their first job.”

He shakes his head. “Can’t just let it go,” he said. “She disrespected my wife. Not the kinda thing I can turn the other cheek to.” 

“Joel—don’t…don’t—” You weren’t sure what you were asking. His insistence didn’t surprise you in the least, but you didn’t want to start anything that would disrupt the peace the two of you’d spent so much time cultivating.

He seems to understand you despite your lack of vocal explanation. “Just gonna have a word with him, sweetheart. That’s all.”

Before he walked out the door, he asked very specifically for the Mediterranean chicken dish you’d made for him last week. Which was strange only because he never asked for anything specific; he simply asked you to cook whatever you felt like, and insisted that somehow you knew his cravings better than he himself did. 

It wasn’t until fifteen minutes later, as you put the chicken in the oven that you realized he’d done it to distract you, to take your mind off the situation at hand while he went and handled it. Helping you without even being in the same room.

When he came home, Joel answered all of your questions at the dinner table and said that he and Lee had shared a beer and talked it over. Warned you to expect an apology the next time you and Janet crossed paths. 

And sure enough, that weekend there was a knock on the front door. 

Joel stood behind you, a looming, protective presence at your back. A safety net as your neighbor apologized for her actions and offered a plate of chocolate chip cookies as amends.

You forgave her, of course. Even invited her in so the two of you could talk about it over a glass of freshly squeezed lemonade on the back porch. She compliments you on the roses growing in your garden and you clip a couple off to send her home with.

Problem solved. Amends made. 

All because of Joel. 

Your closest friends even teased you about it from time to time, making jokes about how spoiled you are, and about how much he cares for you.

When you’re out having a girls' night with the three of them, you share laughs and chips and salsa and have one too many glasses of wine. They all discuss sharing an Uber, but you interject to say, “No worries. Joel will make sure we get home safe.”

And they tease you about that, too, telling you, “You’ve got that big man wrapped tight around your little finger.”

But you’re not wrong, and you suppose your friends aren’t, either. Because he shows up at the diner ten minutes after you send him a text message, and deals with four drunk young women with such grace it’s almost astonishing. Even pulls a soft, secret smile as he listens to the group of you giggle together at something that’s probably not nearly as funny to him.

You asked him about it later, about that gentle amusement he wore, and he explained simply, “What makes you happy makes me happy, darlin.’” 

And you understand exactly what he means. Understand how your happiness, your frustrations, your love is mirrored perfectly in his heart. Because you feel it, too.

It’s why whenever he says he’s craving something, whether it’s fast food or some elaborate dish, you’ll always find a way to get it onto his dinner plate that night. It’s why you make an extra stop during grocery shopping to get that local ground coffee he likes. 

He’d said once how much he loves the way pale blue looks against your skin, and every time you shop for clothes you find yourself gravitating towards the shade. 

You do his laundry and put a towel in the dryer every time he steps in the shower so it’s warm when he gets out. You teach him about skincare and he sits dutifully in bed every Sunday night with a face mask on and a pore strip on his nose. You schedule his doctor and dentist appointments and have never once been successful at fighting off your wide grin as you tell the receptionist on the phone that you’re his wife and they refer to you as Mrs. Miller for the remainder of the call.

Give and take, push and pull—the two of you fit seamlessly together. You take care of him, and he takes care of you, and whatever was left each day you figured out together.

So, when you make your way to the kitchen one early morning to see his lunch still in the fridge, untouched, and his coffee mug in the sink and not the dishwasher, you know something must have gone awry. Something to disrupt his morning routine.

You find your phone only to read a text message he’d left you at six this morning. 

Good morning, sweet girl. Slept through my alarm, might have to stay over today to finish. Love you.

Joel’s an independent man, you know. Perfectly capable of taking care of himself. And you know he’ll likely buy lunch for himself and Tommy, likely some gas station pizza and a soda. But you don’t like the idea of him needing to do that. Don’t like the idea of him eating anything you don’t make for him just the way he likes.

So, you spend the morning getting all dolled up. You wear that pale blue sundress he likes. You curl your hair, coat your lashes in mascara, and spray that expensive, vanilla-scented perfume he got you for your birthday last year. 

And then you grab his lunch from the fridge and make your way to the construction site. You find Joel’s truck easily and park beside it. You’re not sure why, but being here makes your heart race. 

You’ve met the majority of the guys on his crew, and they all know who you are. Countless times you’ve forced Joel to bring in containers full of cookies and pastries you’d bake the night before to share. He’s even brought a couple of them home for dinner before, and invited their wives and kids to fill your home with a little extra love and laughter for the evening.

But for some reason, this feels…different. Like you’re encroaching on their territory, invading space that doesn’t belong to you.

They’re working inside some big structure that has only the framing and roof finished, wooden beams allotting space for each room. You can hear them shouting at each other and the sound of hammers striking nails into place. Somewhere a little further into the building, there’s the mechanical whirring of a drill, but you see no face you recognize.

One of the younger-looking men up in the rafters notices you first. “Well, hello there pretty little lady. Did you need some help?”

You open your mouth to speak, to ask where you might find Joel or even Tommy. But then—

“Dean, you look at my wife like that again and it’ll be the last time you have eyes to look at anyone.” Joel rests his hand on the small of your back as he saddles up to your side. You turn to face him, and can’t help your smirk upon discovering the intimidating scowl on his face that he directs to Dean. “Understand?”

“Yes, sir. Sorry about that, Mrs. Miller.”

“It’s alright, Dean. You didn’t know,” you insist. But Joel narrows his eyes even further and doesn’t stop until you playfully hit his bicep. “It’s fine.”

His expression softens considerably when he looks at you, deep frown turning into a warm smile instead. “Hey, baby girl.” Joel pulls you close, pressing his lips to yours, kissing you softly. Nothing out of the ordinary for him, nothing you don’t expect. But what you don’t expect is for his hand on the small of your back to sink lower, grabbing a lewd fist full of your ass.

The surprise has your lips parting, but Joel only takes it to his advantage, tongue slipping between them to glide smoothly against yours.

When he finally pulls away your face is flushed and he wears that satisfied smirk like armor. He glances up at Dean, whose ears are now red-hot even though he tries very hard to pretend like he’s busy. “I’m taking a twenty. Be back in a bit.”

He takes your hand in his and leads you back outside, and once he opens the passenger door of your truck he’s quick to put his hands on your hips and lift you to help you inside. 

You expect him to close the door and round the front of the truck to get in behind the wheel, but he doesn’t. Before you’re even able to turn and tuck your legs inside, he’s pushing you back against the leather seats and sliding his calloused hands up your thighs beneath your dress. “Joel,” you say, but you don’t attempt to stop him. 

The passenger door’s propped open, just enough to shield him from view as he stands behind it. “You’re so pretty,” he murmurs, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your panties. He tugs them down and peppers open-mouthed kisses across the exposed skin of your chest, teeth nipping at your cleavage. But then he’s biting you—hard, and pressure pools low in your belly as his tongue flicks over the hurt to soothe. “Always take such good care of me. Had such a rough morning but seein’ you changes it all around.”

You’re giggling uncontrollably, overwhelmed by his sudden need, basking beneath the warmth of his praise. Your hands find his hair, tugging lightly at the ends. “We shouldn’t,” you say. “Someone will see. You’re crazy, old man, do you know that?”

“Yeah, crazy for you.” Normally you’d scold him some more, accuse him of being the absolute cheesiest man that you’ve ever met. But you don’t have the chance before he’s pushing your knees apart and pressing those hot, wet kisses to the inside of your thighs. “Can front all you want, but I’m not dumb, baby. Think you got all dressed up and came all this way for nothing? Nuh-uh.”

This hadn’t been your intention in the slightest, but now that you’re here, and his head’s between your thighs… “I just brought your lunch!” 

Joel smirks. “Fuckin’ right you did.”

You have to cover your mouth to quiet your laughter. “But…seriously. Aren’t you hungry?”

“Starving, sweetheart,” he says. “Now spread your legs.”

You do. Of course you do. 

And Joel makes quick work of you, wasting not a second before his tongue slides through your wet heat with expert precision. He hooks his arms around your thighs and drags you to the end of the leather seat, pressing his face against you. Your clit pulses with need and he takes care of that ache for you, too. Sucking it into his mouth, lapping at you with the flat of his tongue, ratcheting your pleasure to an almost unbearable place.

It doesn’t take long before your back is arching off the leather, hands tugging desperately at his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. You’re whimpering his name and he’s letting out these deep, throaty groans that have your toes curling in your high-top sneakers.

In just a couple minutes he has you right there—right on the edge, so close to your orgasm you can taste it, and then he pulls away. You’re whining immediately, desperate whimpers falling for your lips. 

“Shh. S’alright, baby girl. I’m comin',’” Joel tells you. And then you watch through bleary, tear-filled eyes as he undoes his tool belt and sets it on the floor of his truck. 

The clink of his belt buckle reverberates through your ears, and you whimper again but before you can start begging he’s got his cock in his hand and he’s pressing the big, heavy tip into you. “Oh my God,” you cry, breath stuck in your lungs. 

It feels so good—he always does. He says, “C’mere, baby,” before gripping the front of your dress and pulling you up towards him. He hooks your legs around his hips and sinks into you slow, real slow. Gives you time to adjust to the size of him, time for your pussy to make room for it. He kisses you hard, and out of the corner of your eye, you can see the men on his team working thirty feet away. 

Your heart races in your chest and you think about warning him again that this might be a bad idea, but then he’s sinking his cock alllll the way into you, pushing against that sweet spot inside, and everything else fades into nothing. 

There’s nothing but Joel—your gentle, safe, loving husband, who always takes care of you and always will.

He pulls out slowly, moaning low, and then slams back into you. Again and again and again. He sets such a punishing pace that your eyes roll back and you have to sink your nails into his shoulders just to ground yourself, his gray cotton t-shirt soft and familiar beneath your fingertips. “Fuck, fuck, Joel.”

“Pretty pussy’s squeezin’ me so fuckin’ good, baby,” he says. “Know just what to give her. Know just what she needs.”

You can feel your slick coating the inside of your thighs, your orgasm creeping right back up your spine as if it’d never faded in the first place. He squeezes your thighs hard enough to bruise but it only brings you higher, gets you closer. Your clit pulses and you swear you can feel his cock throbbing inside you in tandem, a perfect man made just for you.

His hips slam into you, bringing you closer and closer and closer, until finally— “Joel, Joel, I—oh my god, shit—!”

“Ohh, sweet girl…you gonna cum for me? Hm? Feels that good? Needed it that bad, didn’t you,” he says, and it’s not a question because he just knows.

“Yes, yes, please—Joel, I’m gonna—!”

He takes a hand and grips the back of your neck, forcing you to look up at him. “I know, baby, s’alright. Give it to me. Yeah, that’s it. There you go.”

Your orgasm hits you hard, makeup smearing as your eyes water. Every nerve ending flares on end, euphoria washing over you and pulling your senses taut. “Cum with me, cum with me, oh god.”

He fucks you through it, and it only takes a couple more meaningful strokes before his hips are stuttering. Joel presses his forehead to yours and kisses you gently, spilling inside you with his cock pressed into you as deep as he can get. He cums with you and the words that leave his mouth as he reaches the summit give you goosebumps. “Love you, sweet girl. Love you so fuckin’ much.”

When he finally comes down, Joel’s panting breaths are in perfect sync with yours. He kisses your cheeks, your nose, your forehead. And when you start giggling he breaks out that soft, gentle smile and it turns your insides to mush.

You wince as he slowly pulls out of you and stuffs himself back into his jeans, pulling on the leather of his belt and fastening it back into place.

“Still have a couple minutes before you have to get back,” you say, cheeks warming as he helps you slide your panties back up your legs. “You really should eat something. Like, actual food. Sustenance.”

“Oh, I’m plenty satisfied,” he jokes. But when you unzip his cooler and sift through it, pulling out the turkey, tomato, and cheese sandwich you’d made him last night, he takes it from you with greedy hands. 

He eats quickly and you watch him in awe, unbelieving that he’s real, and much less that you’d somehow convinced him to love you. A perfect man, all your own, so beautiful and kind and selfless. You don’t think anyone’s loved anymore more than you love Joel.

Playfully, he taps the tip of your nose as he wolfs down the last bite of his sandwich. “What’re you thinkin’ about?”

“Just you,” is your answer.

“Me?”

“About how much I love you.”

His smile widens and he reaches his hand out, cradling your face, running his thumb along your cheekbone. “I don’t deserve you, sweetheart.”

You press your face into his hand, bottom lip jutting out. A part of you wants to beg him to come home early, to use a sick day, and hold you for hours. But instead, you kiss the palm of his hand and jump out of the truck, gravel crunching beneath your feet. “You should probably get back. Don’t want you staying any later than you have to.”

Joel lets out a heavy sigh but nods his head in agreement. He closes the door of his truck and opens the door to your car instead. “Get home safe, alright? I’ll try and get this done as soon as I can. You want me to pick something up after for dinner? Kinda cravin’ pizza.”

“Let me know when you’re leaving the site and I’ll call and put in an order for pickup. Get one for Tommy too so he can take it with him. Wanna make sure he eats. Sound good?”

He kisses you hard and nods. “Sounds real good. See you at home, baby girl.”

“I’ll be waiting on the porch,” you promise.

Like you always are. Like you always will be.

[sofiaswrittendelusions]

“My wife.”

synopsis idea by: @starlitfool 🙏 “y'all remember when caleb had mc pretend to be his girlfriend back in college? i offer now to the caleb girlies council this consideration: mc pretending to be the colonel's wife at some farspace fleet gala/function/thing. thank u and goodnight”

The gala was a spectacle of power and politics, a glittering battlefield where words were weapons and alliances were forged under the weight of duty. Officers and dignitaries wove through the crowd, their conversations laced with veiled threats and rehearsed charm. It was the kind of event Caleb had attended a thousand times before—where appearances mattered more than truth, where strength was measured not in victories but in perception.

But tonight, none of it mattered.

Because you were on his arm.

Draped in elegance, fitting so seamlessly into the role of his wife that it made something dark and possessive curl inside him, something that had never truly left since the first time he heard you call yourself his.

It had started as a necessity, a calculated move—the Colonel’s wife carried more weight than any civilian could, allowed access, turned heads, ensured questions wouldn’t be asked. But it wasn’t the first time.

Years ago, when you were both younger, when his obsession was still something new and raw and barely contained, he had pulled you into his orbit with a simple phrase—play along, sweetheart. You had been surrounded by vultures then too, leering eyes and unwanted attention, and Caleb had hated it. Hated the way they thought they could look at you, let alone speak to you.

So he had intervened.

Wrapped an arm around your waist. Let his gaze burn through anyone foolish enough to challenge his claim. Felt something primal settle deep in his bones when you leaned into him, trusting him to play the part.

But that was a lie, wasn’t it?

Because there was no acting when it came to you.

He had never truly stopped seeing you as his.

And tonight was no different.

His fingers pressed against the small of your back, just firm enough to remind you that he was there, that you belonged beside him. The men he spoke with were high-ranking, powerful in their own right, but none of them held his attention.

Not the way you did.

You shifted slightly, polite smile never faltering as you listened to the conversation, but he felt the way you tensed when someone’s gaze lingered too long.

His grip tightened.

A silent warning.

You exhaled softly, leaning the smallest fraction closer, and it nearly undid him.

He had fought in wars, survived battles that left others broken, but nothing—nothing—unraveled him the way you did.

“You’re perfect like this,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper, meant only for you.

You inhaled sharply.

He felt it against his skin, the way your body reacted before your mind could catch up. The way you stiffened—not in fear, but in awareness.

And Caleb lived for it.

The night stretched on, a blur of empty pleasantries and strategic conversation, but his focus never wavered. Every time someone so much as glanced in your direction, his hold on you tightened. Every time your gaze flicked to his, searching for something—reassurance? Permission?—he was already there, already watching, already owning the space between you.

By the time the gala ended, he had you pressed against his side, guiding you toward the exit with the same quiet authority he always carried. You let him, falling into step as if it were natural. As if this wasn’t temporary.

As if you were his.

The car was waiting, sleek and dark, windows tinted to keep the outside world from seeing what was his to protect. The door shut behind you, locking the two of you away in the silence of the night.

For the first few minutes, neither of you spoke.

Then—

You frowned slightly, glancing out the window.

“Caleb… this isn’t the ride to my apartment.”

His lips twitched. Not quite a smirk. Not quite not one either.

“I meant our home,” he murmured, voice slow, deliberate.

The words hung between you, thick with something unspoken, something dangerous.

He watched the realization settle in, the way your body stiffened beside him, the way your breath hitched.

His gaze was already waiting when you turned to him, violet eyes gleaming in the dim interior.

And then—he leaned in.

Slowly.

A measured, predatory shift, invading your space without hesitation, letting his warmth, his presence, his ownership wrap around you entirely.

“You were my wife all night,” he murmured, voice deceptively soft. “You don’t want to stop now, do you?”

Your lips parted—whether to protest or to agree, he didn’t know. Didn’t care.

Because your body told him everything.

The way your pulse fluttered at your throat. The way your fingers curled against your lap, as if resisting the urge to reach for him. The way your breath caught when his hand—flesh this time, warm and possessive—tilted your chin just enough to keep you from looking anywhere but at him.

And then, quieter, more intimate—

“My wife wouldn’t leave me alone tonight.” A pause. A slow drag of his gaze down to your lips, then back up. “Would she?”

You swallowed hard.

And Caleb knew.

Knew that he had you again.

Just like before. Just like always.

But this time—

This time, he wouldn’t let you go.

[robertsfloyd]

I can’t stop thinking about Lando’s bunny in heat and wanted little cute bunnies

fun fact!! Two years ago I had plans to get a bunny. he was gonna be called bowser and he was gonna be my baby :(

cw: hints of smut but not rly, heat, bunny wants babies (breeding kink), this is more of a crack fic

"but, laaaaan," you whine, a pout on your face as you held his arm.

a sigh left his lips and he finally turned away from his gaming console. his pretty eyes searched your face before they softened. reaching out, his hand brushed over your cheek.

"bunny, we can't," he whispered and you whined again. "I know you're in heat but we can't! we're not ready for it."

deep down, you knew he was right. you were young, he was young. this wasn't the time for babies. even if they would be cute little bunny babies with your floppy ears and cotton tail.

he leaned in and kissed you, his way of apologising. but all it did was make you needier. you stamped your foot.

all you wanted was a good fuck, some relief and maybe for lando to stuff you full of cum until you were good and pregnant. to your heat addled brain, it was less of a want, more of a need.

but you had hidden the condoms, and he wasn't going to fuck you without them.

planting your butt on the floor, you glared up at him. you just wanted his dick! I wasn't fair. it wasn't fucking fair.

pushing yourself to your feet, you began walking out of the room. "fine!" you called, folding your arms over your chest. "guess I'll go take care of myself!"

lando pulled his headset from his ears. "What was that, bunny girl?" He asked, pulling his headset from his head.

but you were gone. down the hall and into the bedroom you shared.

"bunny!" lando called, but you were gone.

there was no way you could get yourself off. your fingers felt useless as you laid there and rubbed. what did you do? what did you do for him to hate you so?

because what other explanation was there? he hated you and that's why he wasn't going to fuck you.

"bunny?"

you whined pathetically and bucked your hips into your hand. if this didn't make him take pity on you, you didn't know what would.

standing in the doorway if the bedroom you shared with him, he watched as you furiously rubbed. your fingers were never this clumsy when you two were getting intimate; you looked like you wanted to start a fire.

"bunny," he said gently and sat on the bed beside you. grabbing your hand, he pulled it away from your pussy.

you whined at him again. "why won't you fuck me?" you cried pathetically.

"because, baby, you won't tell me where you hid the condoms."

that's right, you wouldn't. no matter what, you wouldn't tell him. he would break eventually; he had to.

sitting up, you let your fingers dance up your arm. "what if it's just the tip?" you proposed, moving your attention down to his belt. your fingers were quick to get it open. "just the tip, you don't have to cum inside me," you whispered.

something about your voice had a moan pulling from his lips. you, his sweet little bunny, proposing such naughty things. really, you were a little shit, but Lando knew that.

"just the tip?"

you nodded your head. but the way you grinned told a different story. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered and stood up, fastening his belt. "go find the condoms then we'll talk."

you stood with him, stamping your foot. "It's not fair!" you shouted, fists clenched.

"life's not fair, baby!"

[btsugarush]

I'd Hate To Say it | pjm (teaser)

summary: when you return home from studying abroad, you come to find your former best friend, jimin, has made drastic changes to his life that could put him in danger or behind bars forever.

pairings: drug dealer jimin x fireader.

warnings: smut, violence, fluff, blood and gore, ex best friend jimin, gang member!jimin, tattooed/pierced!jimin, long hair!jimin, use of guns/knives, mentions of self harm, mentions of abuse, alcohol abuse, drugs, drug addiction, angst, murder, strong language, 18+, minors dni.

word count: 796

author’s note: yes yes, I’m getting back into my writing and I’ve finally posted at least the teaser to this fic lol.

Your heart beats heavily against your chest as you finally hear Jimin’s door unlock, the brunette appearing on the other side as it opens. He looks uninterested to see you, an annoyed expression on his face. “What’re you doing here, y/n?” He says dryly. You take a deep breath before you speak. “Is it true?” You ask softly.

Jimin leans against his door frame, a raised eyebrow as he waits for you to explain what you mean, but you don’t. “Is what true?” He urges you to go on. “What everyone is saying… that you– that you have something to do with that boy getting murdered.”

Jimin squints before his dark orbs survey the hallway to make sure no one is around. It was almost like he thought you were setting him up, but regardless of your estranged friendship, he still knew you better than that. Once he made sure the coast was clear, he pulled you by your arm inside his apartment and slammed the door closed. “What’s everyone saying?” He questions.

“That you, along with your little gang associates, had something to do with that shooting that happened in Busan last night.” Jimin scoffs, letting go of your arm. The brunette walks around you, running his fingers through his hair in distress. His back is turned towards you, and he stands in silence for a moment before turning to face you.

“Do you believe them?”

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t. It was time to face the painful truth; Jimin was no longer that sweet boy you used to know. “I don’t know what to believe anymore, Jimin. I mean… since I’ve been back I’ve barely recognized you. You’ve been into a lot of reckless shit, and now you have murder attached to your name? It doesn’t seem too far-fetched anymore.”

Jimin scowled at your insinuation. “Then I guess you got it all figured out, don’t you? Just call the cops now if you’re so sure, y/n.” He pulls his cell from his pocket, reaching out for you to take it. “Go on, take it.” He beckons. You shake your head, refusing the phone. “I didn’t come here to prosecute you, Jimin.” You speak softly. “I came here hoping that it wasn’t you… but I can read you like a book still, and I know you had something to do with it.”

The brunette makes a ‘tsk’ sound. “So what if I did, y/n? Are you gonna rat on me?” He takes a step closer to you, the look in his eyes intimidating; but no matter how hard he tried to instill fear into you, he was still Jimin. “No… but you should turn yourself in. I don’t wanna see you go down like this, Mochi.” You utter the nickname you used to call him when you were kids.

This softens the brunette for a mere moment before he finds himself enraged. “Don’t. Don’t you fucking call me that. Don’t you fuckin’ pretend to give a shit about me. Not after you left me behind.” He grits his teeth, pointing his ringed finger in your face.

“I never left you behind,” you push his finger away, glaring at him. “I had goals, dreams to achieve. I couldn’t be stuck in this dead end life like–”

“Like me?” He cut you off. “Say it, y/n. Say like me.” He pushes. You shake your head, taking a step back from the brunette. “I’d hate to say it, but you’re a lost cause. I should’ve never come here. If you wanna ruin your life forever, that’s fine by me. I’m done caring.” You turn to exit, but Jimin isn’t done guilting you. “You never did.”

This finally boils your blood, and you whip around to face him. “I’m not the one that stopped reaching out, you did!” You remind him. You were tired of being the one to blame for your fallen friendship with Jimin. The phone worked both ways, and he was the one that stopped answering your calls, and calling altogether. “I am tired of being blamed, I am tired of your coldness towards me. I don’t know what the hell you wanted from me!”

“I wanted you to stay!” He snaps. “But you left and I was all alone! I needed you, y/n. I needed you and you fuckin’ left me…” his voice cracks, and for the first time since you’ve been back you see a glimpse of the old Jimin in his eyes. Soft. Innocent. Lost. “I… I don’t know what to say…” your voice is gentle. Jimin finds his composure, shaking his head. “I don’t need you to say shit,” he spat. “You wanna know if I killed that kid? Yeah. I did it.”

[laseracronym]

Jealousy, Jealousy (MHA/Fem!Reader)

Summary: Where you're not jealous. Definitely not. (MHA characters reacting to their girlfriend getting jealous. Part 1?)

Characters: Dabi, Aizawa

Content: Jealousy. Violence and Unhinged!Reader in the Dabi one.

MHA-MHA-MHA

Dabi

You stalked out of the bar, leaving behind the chaos you just caused.

Cold rage coursed through your veins, your pulse pounding in your throat. You could still see that woman's hands all over Dabi, hear the sweet words she was whispering in his ear. That stupid look on her face, the confidence she had that she would be able to take what was yours.

She's lucky all you gave her was a few broken bones.

A hand caught your wrist and you reacted quickly, spinning around drawing on your quirk, ready to strike.

"Take it easy, Angel," Dabi's grinning face, full of twisted amusement, both calmed and paradoxically infuriated you. "It's just me."

You scoffed, the sound a cobra's hiss, and let up on your quirk. You straightened up and pulled away from his grasp in favor of crossing your arms. You'd left him behind when you stormed out, eager to get out before you truly lost control.

He chuckled at your behavior, at the anger still radiating off of you. He was undaunted by it, moving closer, fingers skating along your upper arms. "What was that about, pretty girl? Feeling jealous?"

"I'm not jealous," you spun away from him and began walking again, his skulking footsteps following you. "I just don't tolerate anyone disrespecting me to my face."

"Sure, sure," he obviously didn't buy it.

"Don't piss me off," you snapped, walking faster, "you weren't exactly discouraging the attention, you know."

"And miss out on the show?" you were spun around to face him again and he pushed you up against a wall. His eyes pierced you, his voice a pleasant purr, "not a chance."

You tried to hold onto your anger, but a new kind of heat burned through you at the look on his face, the feeling of his hand running up your side. He nuzzled into your neck, his tongue dragging along your skin and making you shiver.

"Do you know how fucking sexy you looked? Raging like that, all over little old me," he grabbed a handful of your hair, tilting your head back so he could gain better access to your neck. "Vicious girl..."

Your eyelids fluttered and you gripped his shoulders tight as he began to bite and suck at your neck. Possessive lust hazed over your mind and you pulled him closer.

Dabi was yours, and you'd tear apart anyone who dared to try and take him from you.

Aizawa

It was stupid.

You were a grown woman, well beyond the age of petty bouts of jealousy-

And yet.

Sometimes, seeing Shouta's friends, like Miss Joke and Midnight, playfully flirt with him in the way that they did...

It got to you.

And you hated it. Because you knew they were just joking, knew they had no interest in Shouta. And Shouta never entertained their jokes at all, shooting them down in that stern way of his. You had nothing to worry about.

But sometimes, you could still feel the heat rise up under your collar, the tension in your jaw, the urge to tell them to knock it off sitting ready on your tongue. But you didn't. You didn't want to be that girl. You didn't want to make a big deal out of an obvious joke, be the girlfriend that was so insecure she had to bare her teeth at every woman that came near her man.

So you said nothing. But that didn't mean Shouta didn't notice something was bothering you. He knew you so well.

MHA-MHA-MHA

"What's the matter?"

You blinked, glancing over at Shouta as his voice brought you out of your thoughts. The two of you had just left after getting dinner with some of your UA colleagues and were walking home. At some point, after a few rounds of drinks, Midnight had turned her suggestive persona in Shouta's direction. You'd also had a drink or two at this point and couldn't help but leave the table, using the excuse of needing the restroom to step away and cool off for a while. The attempt to calm down didn't work, and you'd remained quiet and closed off for the rest of the evening.

"Nothing," you weren't very convincing, you knew, but you still tried. "Nothing's the matter."

"Hm," he hummed thoughtfully, not saying anything for a few minutes as you continued on your walk. But that didn't mean he was dropping the subject, "you've been quiet since Kayama started in on her antics."

Your mouth twisted into a soft grimace when he hit the nail on the head, "...she was just joking," you said, something you reassured yourself of many a time.

"She was," he agreed quietly, "but it still bothered you."

It wasn't a chastisement, merely an observation, but you still felt embarrassed. You didn't look at him, a horrid blush burning on your face as your silence answered for you.

His hand closed around yours, the familiar warmth a comforting balm to your nerves. "I'll tell her to stop. Joke, too." He really it all figured out, didn't he?

"No," you disagreed, and damn it, why was your throat tight? Why did your eyes burn? "I'm being- I'm just being childish."

"You're not being childish," slowly, Shouta stopped walking, pulling you to a stop as well. He used a gentle hand to guide you into looking up at him, and all you saw was his calm patience that you adored so much. "It's making you uncomfortable, so it's worth addressing."

His thumb brushed over your cheek, the tenderness of the action, of his words, coaxed a few tears out of you. You sniffled, nodding quietly. You still felt so embarrassed, but a part of you felt so relieved to finally have it out in the open, and to have Shouta take it seriously.

He brought you into a hug, and you pressed your face into his chest, the press of his hand resting on the back of your head grounding you.

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

"Don't be," he said reassuringly.

(Requests)

[asmolfolk]

Lilia Vanrouge; "Army Dreamers".

ਈՉ࣪﹑Lilia x Reader.﹗ִ❀ ᘏTW: Death.﹗ִ❀ ᘏGenre: Angst/Comfort (?)﹗ִ❀

It's mostly just an idea vomitting idea tbh? I'm listening to this song on repeat so... Yeah. The only thing that I think it's important to know: The only appearence related thing mentioned was your eyes in a very vague way.

Imagine being the one and only person he would let go with him to anywhere. The one who had left a mark on him... A troublesome fellow, someone he wouldn't dare to let himself fall for... However, when you are all he can think about, all he can search for... It takes another whole act to try to put together. You, who keep reencarnating, with him, who keept searching for you.

When Lilia first met you, he was a ‘Teen Fae’. It was a bit after the first human-fae war, you were one of the humans that decided to move to Briar Valley to escape the hatred from other humans.  He could never understand how could a being be so hateful towards their own... But he supposed it was never about logics at all. 

 You were... Bright. Brighter than the sun and stars together, brighter than fire magic and any candle... You would make him give you some smiles, sometimes. You always said how you wanted to be a singer, to show the world the songs you wrote – you dreamed about being in something that [nowadays] would be close to a rockstar. You would tell him all about your dreams, show him your songs, showing him your big plans... 

 But oh. You never had the money for that, have you? 

 Supporting your family, trying to keep your house and managing a bakery, all in your own. You were exhausting yourself and it didn’t matter anything that Lilia said, you never stopped. You were always bubbling about needing to help someone. 

 You were naive, trusted that the world would give the effort you put on others back to you. You naively thought that you didn’t need to rush. 

 And then it happened, the first death that he saw ever since he had met you. It was a normal day, a normal day that he decided to let you wander off as he bought an instrument for you. It was supposed to be a surprise, but your body was on the ground [dead] 

 You were killed and he didn’t know who did it. 

 The second time, he didn’t even realize it was you. He felt a flick around you but didn’t act on it. He kept his distance around you, you were – again a human. You would often try to talk with fairies on the woods, he never answered your calls.  Again, too naive. Maybe it was because you were just a teen trying to fit in. It didn’t take too long before you were attacked, this time, he knew who did it [By accident] but what an unfortunate event. 

 He left flowers in your grave, never once letting them die... After a year or so, he stopped coming by your grave. He told himself that he couldn't keep doing this. 

Then the third came. You were a dreamer, once more, wanting to be a politician. You constantly talked to yourself as you sat on the same damn forest your last reincarnation was killed. You used to write about new rules you would do. 

You didn’t care what role in royalty, you just wanted to help make everything be nice and smooth. 

   About how things would change once you got power. Oh, how unfortunate – You never had the education for that. Never. 

He could see it in your dreamy eyes, there was no thought behind those eyes – nothing but simply the need to make the world a better place. Your blabbering was sweet but... Was nothing at the same time. Promises can’t make deals and, just like that, you kept dreaming. 

And dreaming. 

And dreaming. 

...And dreaming. 

Until you couldn’t awake no more. 

He was present in every life you were in. He was a mentor, a crush, the guy that you kept yapping about... Just the love of your soul, wasn’t him? 

 You were the most different looking – the kind of ‘Cinderella’ story. He didn’t interact much with you either, he just let you go when you wanted to. Didn’t held you, didn’t think about you – it was better this way. 

Another war had begun after all, he couldn’t be thinking about you – about what it could be. 

This time, however. Things were... Too different. You were one of the... Politicians, seems like you realized the dream you once had, hm? You were the frontline, trying your best to be the strongest of all.   Your King, the one who made you one of his ‘negotiators’, made you go in a mission... An almost suicidal one. 

Lilia didn’t want to look soft to his soldiers when you appeared. You always looked gorgeous, he always would notice who you were [your eyes, the windows of your soul always showed him exactly who you were.] and it wasn’t different here. 

He knew you weren’t there to actually help, you were in a mission. But he indulged you, not only for himself but to get information. He didn’t expect, however, to be able to just... Change your way of thinking. 

Maybe it was the way he managed to ‘humanize’ the faes, making them seem like people in your eyes. The same eyes who, once looked at him with hate, now were full of... Pity, somehow.   You started questioning everything they teached you about.   Everything. 

And you stayed with him. You became his – in more ways than one – and neither him nor you did ever want to let it go. His soldiers recognized you as ‘the almighty’, the only one who managed to make Lilia go soft.   It was amazing.   Maybe... Just maybe, finally you would have a happy ending? Together with your beloved? 

It was one mistake. 

One tiny mistake. 

But he should know at this point, any mistake can take your life away from him. 

You died again, a betrayal that he wasn’t able to see. 

But a betrayal that made his hatred go deeper. 

Letting the fire burn the village, the traitor, everything that could be burned to the ground. 

He had it all... And he lost. 

Maybe that was his mistake, trying to be yours. Trying to make your life revolve around him, he thought for a second... What if you never met him? 

.

.

.

Your other lives never knew who he was. Well, of course, they knew he was General Lilia Vanrouge but never knew who was Lilia. The Lilia who always heard your talks, who fought for you, who would do anything it takes for you.   They lived, survived and died without meeting the very man they were waiting to meet. 

As he grew older, he couldn’t help but think about his earlier mindsets. Taking care of Malleus changed him, in more ways than one, and he – as selfish as he was – wanted you again. He always did, don’t get him wrong. 

But now, NOW, he knows that he could do it. 

He knows that – finally – he could be the man you need. One who already knows the tricks, who will protect you, save you from your constant deaths... One that can give you a happy ever after. 

But he never found you again. Nothing. He could find information about your old past lives, you were a Preacher, a Teacher, died too soon or were simply... Living as much as you could. He tried his best to try to find more, but he could only find those four. 

He tried to hide his constant searching from Silver and Malleus, but that simply wasn’t possible. 

Silver was intelligent, always were. He could easily notice when his father was being too much, his eyes would always look directly at Lilia – seeing him holding the paintings that he managed to steal get of you. In some way, you became a sort of altar for Silver. 

He would pour his feelings while looking at your pictures, asking questions, receiving no answers. 

Maybe the universe was trying to give a sign. Because as soon as the NRC would start, Silver was with your picture the day before. 

“You know... I always thought... How would be to meet you? If you are as bright as in some paintings, as serious as in others or... If you are just a new you.” He looked at the painting once more “Father missed you... I know he does. You were never there when I was born but... I miss you too... parent.” 

Maybe it was the tears, maybe it was the feeling of something he never had but COULD that have made him so... Emotional. He couldn’t control his tears; he tried to not let his tears on the painting [it had a safety glass at least] but he couldn’t help but lament. 

And then, there you were. The magicless student, as beautiful as the day Lilia had lost you, as beautiful as the paintings Silver saw. 

Oh. You were up to some fun things now, aren’t you prefect? 

[wonysugar]

KARINA X READER W ORAL FIXATION

oral fixations are such a broad topic so i did some research and had fun with this, i think this is the type of oral fixation you meant lol? thank you for the idea :]

cw : usage of strap-on

you and jimin often hung out, being girlfriends at all. naturally, you progressively got to notice each other's little tics and habits as the relationship went on.

for example, you knew that she had a tendency to furrow her eyebrows at every little thing, whether she was focused, confused or simply just forming a thought. or or!! that she sticks out her tongue in every other situation; sometimes the joke she'd tell would call for it, other times she’d do it just cause. whatever it was she did, you found it endearing.

and she would say the same thing about you! except for… a particular habit of yours. she didn’t hate it or anything. it’s more like she… loved it a bit too much? for all the wrong reasons? to put it simply, she felt like a pervert for feeling the way she did toward it.

see, you had the tendency to put things in your mouth and chewing on them at all times. whether it was your nails, a pen you happened to be holding or even just a straw you had finished using a long while ago. whatever it was, you would spend hours chewing on it. and the context of the situation didn’t matter either, you needed to keep your mouth occupied at all times, and that was that.

jimin thought it was adorable when she first got to know you, a few years back, but once you two got closer, her thoughts got more and more… deranged about the whole thing.

the mere idea made her stomach turn; the two of you making out on her couch, feeling each other up as you usually do. she’d pleasantly surprise you by pulling away from the kiss and replace the feeling of her tongue with her fingers, watching you suck and lick on them whilst you looked up at her. how you would drool all over her digits the same way you’d drool on her strap, later into the dark night.

she’d always shrug it off, though. she never brought it up in bed since she was overthinking basically everythingcjfjckdn she didn’t want you to think she was weird, or anything!

that was until you asked her to let you suck her off during sex, which was something you’d never done before. she contained her excitement when she heard those words and proceeded to rationally ask you why it is that you wanted to do that, all of a sudden.

“i dunno,” you shrugged, “my mouth needs attention, i guess.”

KAAABEWWWMMMM!! jimin played it off, cool and collected, but inside? girl SHE CHEERED! the opportunity finally presented itself to her; she didn’t have to potentially risk passing as a creep yippe!! of course, that was all in her head, as you would’ve happily obliged if she had just asked you.

the actual sex later on? ohh you could tell she was having so much fun with your little oral fixation, she was smiling down at you the entire time. you had originally asked her to just let you blow her, but she went above and beyond your expectations.

you looked up at her, on your knees. she caressed your bottom lip with her thumb before sliding it into your mouth, a smirk plastered on her face as she looked down at you. “you want it, baby?” she’d say, ‘it’ being the black strap-on she was wearing. you’d nod in response, quickly getting what it is that you wanted.

by this point you were practically soaked, that much was obvious, but you didn’t know how much better it would get until she layed you down on your back to finger you; she told you to suck on her tits while she did so.😭😭😭😭ohh brother.

she pumped two of her digits in and out of you, fingers curled right against your g-spot as her thumb gently pressed on your clit, all in a repetitive motion. your attempt to hold your orgasm—after she ordered you to—was barely successful when you had your hand on one of her breasts, carefully fondling it. you tried to focus your attention on catching her nipple in between your fingertips and playing with it gently, but that just contributed to turning you on more.

on top of that, she had the other boob settled right onto your lips, her hand on the back of your head, pushing you closer to her. your mouth sucked and licked on the bud, your tongue working around it. you fed off of the pretty sounds that came out of her whenever you did.

after what felt like a painful eternity of her relentlessly pumping in and out of your dripping cunt with her fingers, she finally gave you permission to cum, much to your relief.

that eventual orgasm hit you like a truck and may or may not have knocked you the fuck out after a few minutes of heavy breathing.😭

she kissed your (very sweaty) forehead, satisfied and happy she could please you. the sight of her girlfriend sound asleep was enough for jimin to make a mental note for the times to come; to never neglect your mouth again.

[pixiexdusts-world]

Red, white, and you

Sam Wilson x ex widow!reader

Summary: After weeks of flirting with his ex-Widow teammate, Sam finally gets a date. Their dinner is filled with playful banter, and by the end of the night, he realizes this is just the beginning of something real between them.

Word count: 2077

Notes: no Captain America: Brave New World spoilers :)

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Sam Wilson had always been a flirt. It wasn’t something he planned—it just came naturally. A well-timed smirk, a smooth compliment, a playful wink. It worked more often than not. But not with you.

You were different.

Ever since you started working with him, assisting on missions as part of your post-Red Room life, he’d been laying it on thick. Nothing serious—just harmless teasing, soft smiles, lingering glances. But no matter how hard he tried, you never gave him anything back.

No blushes. No flustered reactions. No teasing remarks in return.

Nothing.

And yet, that only made him want to try harder.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

“Nice work out there,” Sam said as the Quinjet settled down after a mission. “Didn’t know deadly could look that good in combat boots.”

You glanced at him, unimpressed. “Didn’t know Captain America had time to flirt mid-fight.”

“Multitasking is a skill,” he shot back with a grin. “And I’m great at it.”

You shook your head, unbuckling your harness. “Uh-huh.”

Sam sighed, watching you walk off. Another swing, another miss.

Bucky, sitting across from him, chuckled. “You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”

“Not when it comes to her,” Sam admitted, rubbing his chin. “I mean, I’ve faced off against aliens, rogue supersoldiers, and angry government officials, but this?” He gestured toward you as you disappeared down the hall. “This is my toughest battle yet.”

Bucky smirked. “Hate to break it to you, man, but I think she’s immune.”

“Nobody’s immune forever,” Sam muttered, determined.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Over the next few weeks, he kept at it.

Casual compliments. Light touches on your arm. Offering you his jacket when the night got chilly. Always being the one to check in after missions, making sure you were okay.

And still, nothing.

At this point, it wasn’t just flirting anymore. It was a challenge.

But more than that? It was real.

The more time he spent with you, the more he wanted to know. Not just about your combat skills or your past as a Widow—but about you. What made you laugh? What made you smile? What made your eyes light up, just a little?

So he kept trying.

Until, one night, everything changed.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

The two of you were alone, finishing up after a mission. The others had left, but Sam had stayed behind, claiming he had “Captain America duties” to take care of. In reality? He just wanted more time with you.

“Let me guess,” he said as you wiped down your weapons. “You’re about to run off without saying goodnight?”

You paused, glancing at him. “Would you rather I salute you first, Captain?”

“Damn, that’s cold,” he said, clutching his chest dramatically. “Here I am, keeping you company, being all charming, and I don’t even get a ‘goodnight, Sam’?”

You shook your head, setting your weapons aside. “You never stop, do you?”

“Not when I know what I want.” His voice was softer now, more serious. “And I think you know that by now.”

You held his gaze for a long moment. Then, before he could say anything else, you stepped forward, grabbed the front of his suit, and kissed him.

It wasn’t slow. It wasn’t hesitant. It was firm, decisive—like you were making a point.

Sam barely had time to react before you pulled back, staring at him like you were waiting for some kind of response.

He blinked. “Okay, hold up. Did I just win?”

You sighed. “Not everything is a battle, Sam.”

“Then what was that?”

You crossed your arms. “That was me making sure you finally shut up.”

He grinned. “Damn. You could’ve done that weeks ago.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Sam chuckled, shaking his head. “Alright. Since I clearly am getting somewhere now—how about dinner?”

You raised a brow. “Are you asking me on a date?”

“I am asking you on a date,” he confirmed. “No missions, no weapons, no Quinjet. Just me, you, and a very overpriced restaurant.”

You considered it for a moment. Then, with a small smirk, you nodded. “Alright, Captain. One date.”

Sam grinned. “See? I told Bucky you weren’t immune forever.”

You rolled your eyes, but for the first time, he caught it—the small, amused twitch of your lips. And just like that, he knew he was in trouble.

Because he was going to want so much more than just one date.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Sam Wilson had faced high-stakes missions, political pressure, and life-threatening situations. But standing outside your door, waiting for you to answer, was somehow way more nerve-wracking.

When the door finally opened, he had to take a second.

“Damn,” he said, looking you up and down with a slow grin. “You clean up nice.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t hide the slight smirk as you stepped out. “You’re acting like I don’t look good in tactical gear.”

“Oh, you do,” Sam assured, offering his arm. “But this? This is unfair.”

You gave him a dry look but took his arm anyway. “Let’s go before you start reciting poetry.”

He chuckled, leading you to the car.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

The restaurant was nice. Really nice. White tablecloths, dim lighting, expensive wine—definitely a step up from their usual post-mission takeout.

“You trying to impress me, Wilson?” you asked as you sat across from him.

Sam smirked. “That depends. Is it working?”

You took a slow sip of your drink, watching him over the rim of your glass. “Jury’s still out.”

Sam leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Alright. What would impress you?”

You shrugged. “You’re the one who’s been trying for weeks. Shouldn’t you have figured that out by now?”

Sam exhaled a laugh. “See, that’s the thing about you—you don’t make anything easy.”

“You sound surprised.”

“Not at all,” he admitted. “Frustrated? Absolutely. But surprised? Never.”

You smirked, setting your glass down. “And yet, here you are. Buying me dinner. Trying to win me over.”

“That’s because I like a challenge.”

The way he said it—low, smooth, confident—made something flicker in your expression, but you covered it quickly.

“You must, considering you’ve been at this for weeks,” you teased.

“More like months,” Sam corrected. “But who’s counting?”

You quirked a brow. “So you’re saying you were flirting with me before I even noticed?”

Sam grinned. “Oh, you noticed. You just pretended you didn’t.”

You leaned back in your seat, tilting your head. “And what makes you so sure?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Because nobody ignores me that perfectly unless they’re trying to.”

You exhaled a small laugh, but didn’t argue.

Sam took a sip of his drink, watching you carefully. “So what changed?”

You met his gaze, your fingers idly tracing the rim of your glass. “You didn’t give up.”

He tilted his head, waiting for you to continue.

“Most guys? They stop trying when they don’t get what they want right away. They lose interest. Move on.” You paused, then looked at him. “You didn’t.”

Sam’s expression softened. “Because I meant it.”

You held his gaze for a long moment.

Then, you smirked. “And because you don’t like losing.”

Sam laughed, shaking his head. “That too.”

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

By the time you left the restaurant, the city had settled into a quiet hum, the streets glowing with soft yellow light. Sam walked beside you, hands in his pockets, stealing glances your way.

“Y’know, this is the part where most people say they had a good time,” he teased.

You hummed. “Most people aren’t me.”

Sam chuckled. “Right. Forgot who I was dealing with.”

You stopped walking, turning to face him. “I did have a good time,” you admitted. “You’re not a bad date, Wilson.”

Sam grinned. “That almost sounded like a compliment.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

He stepped a little closer. “No promises.”

There was a pause—a small, charged moment where neither of you moved, neither of you spoke.

Then, without warning, you grabbed the front of his jacket and pulled him into a kiss.

It wasn’t cautious, wasn’t slow. It was firm, certain—decisive, just like the first one.

Sam barely had a second to process it before he kissed you back, his hands settling on your waist, pulling you even closer. The world around him blurred, the sounds of the city fading into nothing. All he could focus on was you—the warmth of your lips, the press of your body against his, the way you kissed like you had nothing to lose and everything to give.

When you finally pulled away, Sam exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“Damn,” he muttered. “You really don’t do anything halfway, huh?”

You smirked, your fingers still curled around his jacket. “Not my style.”

Sam grinned, shaking his head. “I think I’m in trouble.”

You stepped back, your smirk still in place. “Took you this long to figure that out?”

He laughed, running a hand over his face. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told.”

Sam tilted his head. “So… what now?”

You shrugged. “That depends. Are you gonna keep flirting, or are we past that stage?”

Sam’s grin widened. “Oh, I’m never gonna stop flirting with you.”

“Good,” you said, turning to walk away. “I’d hate to think you were getting lazy.”

Sam chuckled, falling into step beside you. “Careful what you wish for, sweetheart.”

You shot him a glance. “Did you just call me sweetheart?”

Sam smirked. “What, you want something else? Doll? Baby? Mrs. Wilson?”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” he said, bumping his shoulder against yours, “you’re still here.”

You didn’t answer right away.

But when Sam felt your fingers brush against his, just for a second, before you pulled away, he knew.

This wasn’t just a date.

It was the start of something real.

[elenasalvatore1]

Huh, how could anyone not like Harry and Ginny as a couple? i can answer… people can dislike them snd there are a lot of reasons for it.

I'll tell you more, I hate this ship ( I read books, and I hate it even more). And I think that's probably the worst thing Rowling has done to the entire series.

Ginny Weasley is a fan and a stalker, she never stopped being one. As she had perfectly stated to Harry, she had never given up on him. And she liked him so much because of his desire to fight against Volandemort.

She's rude, ill-mannered, and uses people for her own selfish aims and bullies people to show how fantastic she is.

It's so funny to hear that she understands Harry. Wake up, take off your pro-Ginny glasses and think critically for a minute! She said herself that it wasn't her memory lapses that she was carrying a diary! She doesn't remember anything.

Besides, her obsession with the diary is not the same as Harry being a Horcrux. If you look at it , then ONLY NAGAINA could understand him in this regard . Then, what the hell is with this injury. It seems that Ginny's injury is being elevated to some kind of absolute. It doesn't matter that Harry, Hermione, Ron, Luna, Neville went through much more.

Only Neville understands what it means to lose his parents in the war, only Snape understands what it means to be unloved by a family, Sirius understands what it means to be lied to, Luna understands what it means to see death and be different. Hermione understands what it means to be betrayed by a friend, left alone without any help, without hope for success, to freeze and starve.

HARRY SHOULD MARRY EACH OF THEM BECAUSE THEY HAVE SIMILAR INJURIES?!

It's very funny how some people in the fandom try to exalt Ginny Weasley in order to somehow add points to her as "Harry's girlfriend."

In fact, Ginny has no idea what Harry went through at all. She suffered no more than the others at Hogwarts. Far from being a prisoner at the Manor (only Marilyn knows what the Death Eaters did to Luna), she wasn't tortured by Bella Cruciatus, she wasn't involved in the horcrux hunt. And by exalting your red-haired heroine, you're just insulting those who have really been through hell. Ginny always had a supportive family, who had taken care of her. Even in battle, she acts like a child. A jealous and spoiled child. Impulsive, rude, jealous childish Ginny Weasley is the last thing Harry Potter needs.

Seriously how could anyone not like Harry and Ginny as a couple? They’ve both been mentally violated by Voldemort; they’re the only two people who can truly understand each other’s trauma and give each other a level of support that nobody else can, as they heal and recover. They belong together. Hinny deserved to be endgame.

[shizuturnspages]

It was fun to read part 3, but what if the reader khaenri'ah reached the breaking point and tried to commit suicide??? Since the poor thing has her entire life monitored 24 hours a day (The Curse of Khaenri'ah makes her immortal, but that doesn't mean she can't die or can escape death, I think)

The Chains You Cannot Break

Trigger Warnings: Suicide attempt, heavy emotional themes, psychological manipulation. Synopsis: You had never truly been alone. Not since they took you. Not since they decided that your survival meant ownership. Your every move was watched. Your every breath was monitored. They called it protection. You called it a prison. And one day, you finally understood. You would never be free. No matter how many times you ran. No matter how hard you fought. They would always bring you back. So… there was only one way out. Pairings: [Separate] Yandere Dainselif, Pierro, Kaeya, Albedo, Capitano x Khaenri'ahn Child

The Act – Escape Through Death

You planned it silently. Carefully. Because you knew that any sign of distress would make them watch you even closer.

You played the role they wanted—the defiant child, but nothing too reckless. Enough to keep them blind to what you were really planning.

And when the moment arrived, you took it.

Maybe it was a blade to the throat. Maybe it was a leap from a tower. Maybe it was something slower, something they wouldn’t notice until it was too late.

It didn’t matter.

All that mattered was finally being free.

But you had underestimated them.

Dainsleif – "Why would you do this?"

He had expected defiance. He had expected rage, hatred, rebellion.

But not this.

The moment he found you—bleeding, gasping, fading— something inside him shattered.

“You are Khaenri’ahn. You are supposed to survive.”

And yet, you didn’t want to.

He was so careful after that. Too careful.

Never raising his voice. Never leaving you alone.

Every time you reached for something sharp, he took it away.

Every time you sat near an open window, his hand gripped your shoulder.

You had broken something in him. And he would never let you try again.

Pierro – "Unacceptable."

Pierro did not panic. He did not scream, did not rage.

Instead, he erased the possibility.

Your room? Stripped of anything remotely dangerous. No windows. No doors that locked from the inside.

Your clothing? Checked for hidden weapons.

Your meals? Controlled, monitored, forced if necessary.

“You will not disgrace Khaenri’ah further.”

He never treated it as a tragedy. He treated it as a mistake that needed correction.

And he made sure it would never happen again.

Kaeya – "What the hell were you thinking?"

Kaeya’s hands shook when he found you. He had seen death before. Too much of it.

But not yours.

“Did you think I’d let you go that easily?”

Unlike the others, he didn’t tighten his grip. Instead, he made sure you never wanted to try again.

He held you longer, spoke softer, gave you something to live for—even if it was just him.

“Stay for me. If nothing else, stay for me.”

And you hated him for it.

Because it worked.

Albedo – "This cannot be allowed."

Albedo refused to let you self-destruct.

He removed all methods, all means, all possibility of you ever succeeding.

Alchemy sigils. Monitoring devices. Subtle sedatives in your food.

“You are not in control of this.”

You lost everything. Your agency, your ability to choose.

You were his experiment, and he would not let it end until he was done.

Capitano – "You foolish child."

He caught you mid-fall, his iron grip locking around you before you could even hit the ground.

His mask was unreadable, but his hands trembled as he held you.

The way he dragged you back inside, locking you in a room with nothing sharp, nothing dangerous—

“You will not die. I will make certain of it.”

From that day forward, you were never left unsupervised. Not for a single second.

You thought you had no freedom before? Now, you had nothing.

[menlove]

youve probably answered this before but what DO you think is the most realistic version of what went down?? like do you think paul misinterpreted john's hints or that john never made it clear enough to paul how he felt? i know theres no way to know but you have such a good grasp on their personalities and this seriously might haunt me forever lkadjf

i actually don't think i have ! i wrote a lil speculative Thing about what things would look like if paul were queer and closeted (which is what i think) and that interpretation but never specifically this question but...

this is long and rambly but have my thoughts lmfao

basically To Me i do think they had some sort of sexual relationship. to me it's honestly the most likely scenario given the..... everything. their interactions with each other, some of their songs about each other ("i used to hold you in my arms"), the way things blew up so spectacularly, etc. and my reasoning there is mostly that. we know already that they had really loose sexual boundaries with each other. they jerked off together, they fucked women in the same room together & allegedly together as well. and already just those two/three things constitute as a sexual relationship, but not smth they would've seen as one.

but i do think they did more than that. i mean, it doesn't really matter if they did more than that, the rest of what i'm gonna speculate stands even if all they ever did was jerk off together and fuck women together, but like... aside from the like Mountains of evidence that there was something there, i just think it makes sense w their personalities. john isn't the type of person to have self-restraint and i don't think paul, especially when he was younger, would've turned john down. i think if john was into men (which he was, we know this) and if he was into paul (incredibly likely) then he would've made a move. and i think if he made a move and got rejected he would have raised hell, and that never happened.

i think they probably started doing shit together (again, the extent of that is debatable) and they absolutely did Not think of it as being anything queer. i couldn't tell you the mental loops they tied themselves in there, but i have Some thoughts just based on who they are. i think john probably passed it off as like "a hand's a hand, a mouth's a mouth" type of thing (which is hilariously something yoko talks about him saying in her audio diary during the white album sessions). and i think paul probably saw it (& any other things he was doing with men, if he did) as something fun that feels good and isn't something he needs to like look into deeply. i think neither of them would've thought of themselves as queer, bc they probably thought of queerness as very binary- you're either gay or you're straight. and they both were into women (.....ostensibly) so they couldn't be gay. i think john like realized, on some level, that he was queer and Hated it about himself for a very long time and only started coming to grips with it towards the end of his life. i think paul eventually came around to it but by that time he was married to linda (& if rumors are to believed, possibly having threesomes with her and men lmfao) & i don't think he would Ever want to come out publicly even if he's out privately (which i do think he is).

so why didn't they get together? why is paul so insistent that john was straight and not in love with him? i think they just genuinely never talked about it. ever. like i don't think they had that conversation. if neither of them were gay and their sexual relationship was just john and paul things, there wasn't any need to talk about it. queerness was more acceptable for the young. not in an open sort of way, absolutely not, but in the way that they could tell themselves they'd grow out of it, they were just messing around, etc.

i think things got harder when brian died- he died queer, alone, and in a situation that a lot of people thought was suicide. and ofc, we know the band didn't think it was suicide, and i don't think it was either, but that's the kind of thing that sticks in the back of your mind. esp if you're like john who had a lot of mystical/magical thinking. i think it was a bit of a wake up call. time to grow up. i think they both thought they were each the Only one dealing with actual queer feelings & attraction to the other and were soooo sure the other one was just straight and fucking around. which probably hurt, quite a bit, but wasn't something they wanted to look at anyway.

and when john got with yoko and got serious with her, i think that was the bubble bursting. cynthia was different. they got together so young, he never made her a priority, he cheated on her constantly, belittled her, didn't have a place for her by his side bc he carved that space out exclusively for paul. and you can tell that just by the amount of quotes paul has about john marrying yoko being the catalyst, about it being time to grow up, etc which is insane considering he was already married and so were george and ringo. for years. so it was something deeper than that. and it's bc he was actually taking yoko seriously. paul's spot as john's primary partner got filled by a woman. who john was genuinely in love with, not like cynthia which was a marriage fueled by the age old tale of an unplanned pregnancy and comphet. and paul can't argue with that. like....... if he viewed what they were doing as messing around as kids, with john being straight and him being the one pining, he wouldn't want to fuck up john's chance at a Normal Straight Love. if he were a girl, he could, but he wasn't. what he Could do was match him and grow up too. cue the immediate pivot to get married and have children, eventually fulfilled in linda.

but i don't think he expected the band to implode just bc they stopped being so close in whatever manner. but it did. along with other reasons, obviously- there's a million reasons the band broke up, but i think they could've weathered it if they had kept the closeness they'd had at the beginning. or if they'd been single or even if they'd just kept viewing each other as their primary partner aside from their wives.

i think they both came to terms with what they actually meant to each other in the 70s, but they never actually... told each other. what we have from john is jealous guy, which paul was allegedly told was about him, and that demo version of real love that paul never even heard where he laments about him having a baby/farm and how he used to hold him. there's also (just like) starting over, but that one's easy to see as being for yoko too and paul wouldn't have thought twice about it. then you have now & then and real love, which were on that damn tape for paul :( like he literally didn't hear them until after john died and we know he likes the idea that now & then is about him but even then he doesn't sound totally convinced

for paul we have a lot. but a lot of his like more vulnerable songs were only released after john died. like here today, obviously, but there's also some pretty telling ones that john never would've heard (like best friend, which he played live, but wasn't on any album until 2018. or a more of a Stretch of one but i 100% think is about john, hey diddle, which was kept off ram and only released in 2001).

so like i think they very much both came to grips with the fact that they had been in love with each other, but they never really.... thought that could be returned. so ofc paul's going to say shit like how he likes the theory that john was in love with him or wrote now & then about him. but he doesn't believe it, because to him john was Genuinely straight and he was the weird one. and vice versa. i think i saw a more recent thing from him coming around more on the idea of john being bi, but honestly i think that's just hard for him to come to grips with bc what the hell are you supposed to do with that? like yeah, he was into men, possibly even romantically, on a genuine level, just not him? that's hurtful. i don't think he wants to think of that option. bc that's more likely to him than the idea that john was in love with him and hiding it the whole time. which is also heartbreaking. bc then it's just a tragedy of circumstances and missed chances- which is what i think it was. and neither of those routes are something i think he wants to consider, so john has to be straight in his mind.

but if he's coming around on that, he's probably coming around on one of those two options. i hope it's the latter bc the idea that he'd think even now that john never loved him is just so fucking sad. and considering his comments about now & then, as well as the lyrics video for now & then, i really do think the latter is more likely.

anywayyyyy tl;dr i think they fucked around sexually in Some Way, never said a single thing romantically, both came to terms w their feelings in the 70s but by then it was too late and they didn't think the other one would reciprocate anyway, and now paul's been trying to come to grips w the ambiguity of their relationship for the last 40+ years.

[militaryapple]

I'LL LOVE YOU FOREVER.

synopsis. you go out to forget about your dead best friend, though its hard to forget when you miss him so much.

cw. mentions of death, reader has auditory and visual hallucinations, grief, sad like genuinely disheartening, angst. pure angst.

add ons. ok so what i was sad im allowed to take it out on caleb probably first fic out of a series idk anyways smut coming soon

wc. 3.1k

parties. you had a love and hate relationship with them. you loved them because of how free you felt. how reckless you could be without anyone telling you that its dangerous to drink so much with a low tolerance, or how you shouldn't wear such a revealing outfit knowing your job. fuck, you were.. free.

but that was the worst part about it.

you were free. you didn't have anyone holding you down. being your anchor. you didn't have anyone making sure if where you were going was safe, even going as far as to go with you. it was fine, you were used to this routine by now. you partied to deal with stress, problems, grief, him.

it was just the thought of him that haunted you. you knew that partying didn't change how you felt, how it couldn't make anything disappear. it did distract you though, even if it was just for a bit. it wasn't your first rodeo either. it was those tiny moments where you thought of him.

thought of caleb.

how when you get ready, you wondered if he would tell you that you looked pretty in the dress you wore. how he looked at how snug it fit you, or how caleb would clench his fist, telling you that you shouldn't go. how much of a bad idea it was. sometimes you imagine, what if he saw you? in the bar or club. how he would look at you with his eyes softening the moment he found you in the crowd of people.

time would move slower, his once worried expression now calming into a relieved one. how he looked at you like you were the world. his world. you imagine how he would squeeze his way through people, with murmurs of "excuse me" and "I need to get by, sorry". just to reach you. to hold you. to know that you were okay. the sight of his hands lingering over you, not quite touching you but enough to feel that he would be shaking, how he would cup your face and lean down. heads together while you could feel the steadying of his breath.

"you're okay."

it was one of the few sentences you could remember from him. the words echoing in your head so clearly it was like he had just said it. it was one of the many things that calmed you down. the only thing you thanked your brain for remembering that had actually made you feel soothed. it was just to help you calm down if you were having a panic attack, or if you were overwhelmed. how his voice and a couple of slow breaths made the fast-turning world suddenly slow down.

oh how you missed caleb.

this is why you needed to leave the house.

your therapist advises against you doing this. how dangerous it is for you to constantly go out whenever your mind was in a state of distress, but you've never gotten hurt. so it didn't matter right? it was the only thing that cleared your mind of him. that made you remember that you're still young, free. so what if you didn't have an anchor? someone helping you? you were a big fucking girl. you have a job, friends a life. he's been dead for a year. you need to get fucking over it.

and god did it hurt your heart to think that.

you can't be angry at a dead man. yet you somehow managed to be. why you were angry at him? you don't even know. maybe it was because when you last saw him, you didn't know it was going to be the last time you saw him. maybe it was because it was the only day you both were free, and how you missed seeing his face and eating his cooking after so long. maybe it was because you missed the dumb promises he made when he was younger, still managing to keep long after your adolescence. or maybe it was because of the argument you both had, before he was gone. right before your very eyes.

oh god. you really needed to leave the house, it was becoming a pity party. you grabbed your purse, and put on your pumps. walking to the door and grabbing your keys. "here we go" you sighed to yourself, opening the door and shutting it after walking out. once you locked your door you made your way to the elevator and down you went.

checking your phone, you looked for tara's location. it was one of the few weeks you two were able to meet up, and its not because it was caleb and gran's death anniversaries so you were told to take a week off because captain couldn't have her best hunter overworking herself again. seeing how tara was nearby, you shuffled to one side of the sidewalk. tara pulled to the side, stopping her car while you got inside in the passanger seat.

"I'm telling you," tara voiced "maybe your therapist is right, we shouldn't be going out on a day like this, no matter how much I would LOVE to be out dancing it doesn't seem right - and as your best friend.." tara trailed off, looking over at you. you trembled, hands clutched together. she couldn't help but sigh. "fine. lets just get some flowers to lay at their graves first at least. so you won't feel guilty about not going tomorrow." she said softly. her gazing shifting back to the road.

tara pulled over at a nearby flower shop. she got out, and you followed her actions. you went in saying "hello" to the shop-keeper. her face soft. she must've known you were here for a loved one. she didn't know, she couldn't know. your stomach bubbled. how would she know about him? did she know you were there? your heart ached. why did she look at you so pitifully? what if you were there for just flowers? what if you wanted to give them to someone alive, breathing? your hands clenched and your face started to boil.

"hey, are you okay?" for a moment you paused, feeling the sensation of someone resting their hands on your shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze. was it? could it be? whipping your head around. caleb? was that really him? it sounded just like him. your illusion soon shattered with your view focusing on tara. ah, just another one of your imaginations. you sighed, nodding your head.

"you're okay." you silently reminded yourself, taking a deep breath. you looked at the flowers tara held up. smiling in approval, tara paid for them and you both started to return to the car. you couldn't help but look back at the woman behind the desk. she felt.. off. nonetheless you shook it off, it was just "grieving emotions" or whatever your therapist called it. she doesn't know you. she doesn't know caleb.

tara soon made another stop, your heart beating faster with each movement you pushed yourself to do. it's routine, you have to see them, see him. you walked behind tara, she didn't say anything. you felt like a ghost, mindlessly floating around whenever you go visit their graves. "we didn't have to do this now, tara." you forced yourself to say. your breath hitching and voice cracking. you just did your makeup so nice, it'd be a shame for you to ruin it with tears you could shed tomorrow.

"I know" Tara said with a faint smile. you two managing to reach the top of the hill as she got down to place the flowers. you stood next to her this time, closing your eyes and making a prayer before turning around and walking back to the car, now ahead of her. "but if i didn't come with you today, I don't think you'd ever come this week to see them." and she had a point. that's why tara was your best friend, she knew you so well. she knew this week, you wouldn't get up. wouldn't visit the graves of the most precious people who ever lived.

you could only huff as you both returned to the car.

it wasn't until soon after tara had gotten out the car, smiling brightly as she walked to the line of the bar. "okay," she said gleefully, turning her head to you. his face stern as she pinched your cheeks, you smiled hitting her hand away playfully. "you aren't getting black out drunk this time, you hear me? i'm making sure tonight you aren't being so reckless. i always think to let you have fun and when I turn around - it's chaos!" she huffed and scrutinized you.

it was sweet on how she attempted to be your anchor, but she didn't compare to him. she couldn't compare. god, it was even worse on how you were comparing your dead best friend to the one who had just visited his grave with you. your stomach did a twirl of uneasiness.

"okay okay tara" you said softly, "i get it, lets go in now." you nudged her into the bar. it was crowded. the lights flashing different variations of colors as you watched how people moved and wiggled. this is where you needed to be, this was your home, your safe place. no matter how bad that sounded, no matter how self destructive you were, this is what helped you.

you maneuvered your way towards the bar. ordering yourself a drink. "here's to the first drink of the night" you mumbled to yourself lightheartedly. you could hear another chuckle next to you, turning your head you saw a man. he looked about 3 years older than you, his hair ruffled and his eyes a hue of blue. if you were really desperate you could even say purple if the lights hit his face in a nicer view.

he looked like caleb. it could make you shiver.

"another one of those nights?" he nudged your arm. you nodded and chuckled in response, taking another sip of your drink. "can't help it." you joked. now's not the time to mention your dead best friend's anniversary. "shit happens." the man swallowed down his drink getting up. he moved towards the crowd watching to see if you'd followed.

you watched him. how he said "pardon me" and "gotta get through here." it was scary. you blinked, and instead of him, you saw caleb. please not right now. you had hoped not to see him. how he smiled waving you over. how easily you've given into this little mind illusion. he felt so real.

you leaned in closer to 'caleb' and your stomach did a leap. your face buzzed with heat washing over your cheek. you missed him, you missed his touch and his warmth.

it was like you could almost sob with how real this was. you looked up, and saw his beautiful eyes. the eyes that washed you in so deeply, that made you feel like you were the only girl in the world.

so you couldn't help it if your hand moved to his neck, and the other moved to his face. how your eyes fluttered with utter love for the man standing in front of you. the man you've known your entire life, now here, dancing with you. you wanted to talk to him, hear his voice. you wanted to hear how much he missed you, and how he was holding you, how he was here, holding you.

"caleb," you said softly, placing your head back to his chest. it wasn't until you felt a sudden halt between you two. in confusion you looked up at caleb, before feeling a shove. your eyes blinking, brows furrowing. the illusion that long comforted you now slipping away as the man who once held you looked at you in pure disgust.

caleb's scent was no longer there, instead a heavy coat of musk and beer loomed over it instead. the once sugary dream you had was swiped away from you while another hand gave you licorice. it was sickening.

"the hell? the fuck's wrong with you?" he cursed under his breath storming away. "next time, you don't call a fucking guy another mans name when dancing with them." he spat at you before flipping you off. fuck. fuck fuck. did you really imagine caleb as this man? are you fucking insane?

you could only laugh at yourself to keep your composure. to keep yourself from bawling your eyes out. you moved back to the bar. ordering a new drink and sipping out of that. your eyes glazed around the bar, tara was dancing with some guy which meant you were either going home alone today or you could third wheel in the backseat, listening to the sounds of kissing and small moans.

you would take your chances walking home alone today.

tapping the bar counter, you asked for the tab and paid in full. mimicking the way caleb used to do it when you watched him order you both shirley temples when you were younger. yet there was no caleb, and instead of mocktail's there were full blown drinks made up of your own pity and guilt.

you walked outside, it was freezing and you could see the clouds beginning to brew. great, you'll just call a taxi instead. waving on the side of the road, you watched as a yellow car pulled over to you. getting in you told the driver your address and asked to get you there fast. you would even throw in a 15$ extra tip.

the ride was silent, and the rain began to pour. how cinematic. you thought to yourself. you've always hated the rain. the sounds of thunder and lightning that would be too close for your liking, alarmingly close. on those nights, you would walk to your door sniffling. opening it to find caleb, with his arms held out. instinctively you would rush in his arms as he coo'd you. bringing you back to bed and holding you.

"it's okay. you're okay." he'd say softly. rubbing the center of your back as he watched you trying to fight your eyelids open "i'll be here when you wake up. so sleep all you want, okay pip-squeak?" though this time it would be a lie. if you woke up tomorrow morning, he wouldn't be there anymore, and the day after that, and the day after that. repeating until you eventually took your last breath.

you sighed, before looking out the window. you thanked your taxi driver, paying him a 20$ tip instead. he tried to beat the rain, so A for effort. as you got out you looked up at your apartment, the sight of it looming over you. how you hated being here, hated the thought that again, tonight, you would be crying over the death of him.

closing the taxi door, you turned around to walk to your apartment, moving into a halt. there was a man. his frame was big and his size was taller than you. you looked closer at his back. he was in some sort of uniform. his hat hid his hair while the umbrella he held up kept him perfectly dry. he looked up at the apartment, like he was scanning in each and every window for something, or someone.

is he okay? does he need help? even though you were an average person, you were a hunter first still. you moved towards the man in black, placing your palm on his shoulder.

it probably wasn't a good idea to do this. he was probably a creep, and you were in a dress just returning from the bar you would no longer go to out of pure embarrassment. something in you tugged at the man though. you couldn't shake the feeling, and your heart skipped beats.

as the man turned you could catch a faint smell of vanilla. vanilla, apples and oak. it wasn't a heavy scent, but it was faint enough for you to swoon - oddly it reminded you of him. it was his scent. a scent you could recognize a thousand times in a thousand lives. your face shoved down. reluctant to look up, yet you forced yourself to.

no. you didn't want to imagine him again. not like this. it was new, you've never seen him like this. yet you couldn't deny yourself. you wanted to escape this illusion - this torture. yet you stood, looking.

the umbrella dropped, the sound of a small splash and thud could be heard as the man in front of you looked down at you.

it was caleb.

he was home.

your eyes fluttered, you wiped them as you stared at him. you dug your nail in your finger to make sure this was real. the pain confirming the actuality of the scenery. you couldn't help but sob. your hiccups matching the way your body huffed up and down. the way you hyperventilated as your lungs tried to clutch on as much air as they possibly could.

caleb looked down at you, his hands at his side while he stood in disbelief. emotions swirling in his chest. should he reach out to you? comfort you and hug you? tell you that it's okay, hes here now? caleb leaned into you. his hands finding their way to your back and he tugged you closer to him. it seemed all so natural for him, as he's done this countless times before.

you couldn't help but hold on to him, cling to him like he could disappear at any given moment. like if you let go, he'd leave you once more. caleb rubbed your back, holding you as close as he could. oh how he missed you, your skin and your beautiful eyes. he missed your scent and your voice. it pained him to know that just the mere sight of him made you burst out in tears.

it devoured him knowing that he caused all this anguish for you. you had already saw him, so there was no other way for him to make up the absolute torture he put you in the past year. caleb planted a small kiss on your head, his coo's soothing you as much as they could.

"I know pip-squeak, I know. its okay, I'm here, lets go inside okay? It's cold and wet out here. I promise I won't go anywhere." was what he had said to you, he wanted to calm you down. make sure you were okay, even if he would be making empty promises.

[thecloudsaremyhome]

Part 3 of this ask

Duke: duke didn’t know you well to begin with. You left a few months after he arrived at he manor so he never had time to actually connect with you on a personal level. But finding out about your death without knowing you at all gets Duke very badly, and the more he starts to learn about you from the family the more he wants that connection with you. Yeah you may have been older than him but he still wanted to protect you to have the sibling connection he never got to have with you. So this leaves a guilty longing in his heart and mind but it also forms a determination to get you back at any cost.

Alfred: Alfred has known you basically all your life since you arrived here first at the manor at the age of seven till you moved out at 18 he has basically raised you the best he could, you were like a daughter/son to this man so when he finds out of your death he is absolute devestaed and very angry, angry at the people who were supposed to be your family let you slip away from them from him. So of course Alfred is and instigator so he will make sure the family feels extra guilty for your death. But he also will make sure to plant seeds into their heads on finding ways to bring you back becayse Alfred’s obsession with you is just as bad and maybe even worse than the family’s. But Alfred will find a way to bring you back to him no matter what becayse you’ve always been his you’ve just hadn’t known it yet.

Kate: Kate never really knew you well she never really stayed at the manor and has only been there to visit Bruce for missions. But she has met you once when you accidentally bumped into her. But that was it she knew nothing off you from then on. But when she heard about your death from Bruce and him pleading with her to help him find a way to bring you back. This triggers her sisterly instincts becayse just like you her sister and mother was killed in the same way so this enrages her. She starts to feel very protective over you as a whole even though your dead that doesn’t matter to her you’ll be back with her soon she can’t let the same thing happen to you. You’re so young. You had a life full ahead for you so of course she will help to find a way to bring you back no matter what. Even though you don’t know her she knows you.

Talia: Talia has heard about you through Damian from time to time when she was still in contact with her son but personally she never knew you all she knew was you were a product of another fling between her beloved and your whore of a mother but she didn’t necessarily hate you she just didn’t bother to get to know you. But then she hears of your death through Damian and Bruce wanting to use the lazirdus pit on you well this really picked up her interest know that’s when she started to do some research about you and some digging and what she found was oh so sad. Oh you poor baby no wonder you left but don’t worry she’ll help her beloved bring you back and she won’t leave like your mother did. Foolish woman for dying and not protecting her own child. Well she will do better don’t worry honey she will be your mommy now.

Authors note: okay so this will not be canon to the pity party plot this is just an alternate version of if we did die! This was the final head canon part so I hoped you enjoyed it!

[munsonsmixtapes]

so so proud of you and all of your work is amazing!! i’d love to request something for your celebration <3

🦇😘#13 please!!! (pls feed us with some smut and angst 😝😝😝😝)

cw: MDNI (18+) oral (f receiving) body worship, angst, hurt/comfort

Your living room is increasingly getting smaller as your fight with Eddie gets more intense. You've never yelled at each other like this and now you're concerned that maybe this is the beginning of the end of your arrangement.

"It was just a little fight," you scoff but Eddie doesn't seem to think the same with the way he's looking at you. He looks so angry that you can practically see the smoke coming out of his ears.

"A little fight, y/n? You kicked me out!" He's screaming now and you're getting smaller as he towers over you. He's trying to show you just how much you hurt him. Yo try to get you to listen to him because he knows you'd much rather not have this conversation because you hate being vulnerable.

That's why this whole thing works. You both get what you want every time and there's no strings attached. But that's the problem here. He was supposed to fall for you and he did.

"You were trying to cuddle and that's not part of our agreement." You'll never tell him how badly you wanted to because that's not who you are. You're not a girlfriend, you're the type of girl men just like the sleep with, nothing more. And that's the way you like it.

Being in a relationship means letting people in and letting them see parts of you that no one else has. The parts that aren't perfect. And you're afraid that they won't be able see past how imperfect you are. Eddie's become the only person who's gotten close to you have to cut him loose.

Because if you let him in, then there's only a matter of time before he leaves and you like him too much to let that happen. So if you're the one who initiates it because of something he did, then it's not your fault, it's his.

"And then you just blew up, yelling at me like I did something so horrible!" Eddie knows why you're shutting him out, but he wants you to admit it, to hear the very words come from your mouth.

He steps closer to you, taking your face in his hands and he's so close now that he can see the tears streaming down your face.

"Why can't you just let yourself want this?" He whispers and those seem to be the magic words to make you cry even harder. He 's wiping away the tears as they come, pressing his forehead to yours.

"Because," you whisper back. "If I let you in, then you'll just leave. And I love you too much to let that happen." Mission accomplished.

Eddie can't help but grin at your confession, having never felt this happy in his life. He knew he wasn't just imagining it and now he has your words as proof.

"You love me?" He asks as he pulls back, his eyes lighting up.

"Well-" you try to backtrack, afraid that you've said too much, but considering how happy he looks, you're realizing that you didn't actually make a mistake.

"You love me!" He exclaims with a laugh. "I knew it!"

"You knew?" Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. You hadn't realized that you had been that obvious.

"Sweetheart, you weren't exactly good at hiding it. But it's okay because I love you too."

"You love me." You're beaming now, glowing and Eddie doesn't know how you could get any prettier.

"I love you," he nods. "Every single part, the good and the bad." His arms are wrapped around your waist while yours wrap around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss.

He smiles against your lips as his arms wrap tighter around your waist, lifting you up so that your feet are hovering over the floor. Your legs wrap around his waist as his tongue swipes along your bottom lip and you let him in as he backs up to the couch, collapsing onto it as you begin unbuttoning his shirt, but he stops you.

"Nope," he mumbles against your lips as he rests his hands gently on top of yours. "Tonight is about you, doll, and how I'm going to worship every inch of your body until you know just how much I love you."

You blink and you're lying flat against the couch cushions, Eddie now hovering over you with that hungry look in his eyes that you've grown so familiar with.

"But-"

"Nope, you're not going to feel bad because this is just as much for me as it is for you." He lowers himself down onto you and presses his lips to yours. It's so gentle in comparison the other kisses you've shared and you're eating it up, loving seeing this soft side of him.

He's kissing his way down your neck, whispering the most kind words to you about how much he loves your body. He hasn't been this soft and gentle since the very beginning of your arrangement and you have to admit that you love seeing this side of him.

"Your skin is so soft," he murmurs against your chest. "And you," he cuts him off to take a whiff. "smell so good, baby. What is that?"

"You know what it is," you laugh and it's music to Eddie's ears.

"Oh right," he chuckles as he kisses his way down to your tits, pressing a kiss to each one before speaking again. "You know how much I love these," he says as he gives them a squeeze which causes you to gasp. "But they aren't the focus tonight."

Eddie continues to kiss down your torso, pulling down your sweatpants as he does so.

"God, you're perfect," he whispers as he finally gets to the spot right above the waistband of your panties. As he gaze drops lower, he can't help but the notice the dark, wet patch right where you're cunt it. "Already wet, hm? Well, it's a good thing that I'm going to take care of you, isn't it?"

He pulls off your panties then kisses his way up your leg, murmuring what you're sure are compliments into your skin but you can't hear him. He does the same with your other leg then reaches up and grabs hold of your wrist, slipping the scrunchie from it.

"Can I use this?" He asks, his voice so sweet that can't possible say no.

"Sure," you nod and watch him tie his hair back before hooking your legs over his shoulders, not even giving you a chance to prepare yourself before diving straight in.

There's no warm up, it's nothing but teeth and tongue as he bites down, causing you to moan loudly. Your hands grab onto whatever hair you can reach, giving it a tug as your thighs press against his head, your heels digging into his back as your toes curl in pleasure.

He's eating your cunt like it's a man starved and you already feel dizzy, just knowing that this is different from any other time that he's done it. All the others were sloppy and lazy and exactly what you needed, but here, there's intention, there's purpose. And at this rate, you're not sure how long you're going to last.

He pushes his tongue inside and that's when you know you're done for. It's fucking you so hard that you didn't even know he could that with just his tongue. His hands are sliding underneath your ass, squeezing it as hard as he can as he works his magic, making you moan over and over as your climax builds.

You finally reach your orgasm and as it's coursing through you, his names falling from your lips, you just know that this is the best one yet. And even as you're finishing, Eddie's still going to town, slowly removing his tongue only to let it lazily glide along your cunt to lick up every last bit before pulling away just enough to where you can hear him speak.

"Tastes so good," he tells you. "Any man who has ever claimed that a food is their favorite thing to eat has clearly never had their head between your thighs." He then goes back in for more and you stay like that for the rest of the night where Eddie makes you feel the best you ever had as he eats you out for hours on end, showing you just how he loves you and that he will continue to do so for the rest of his life.

[cheekytv]

Can I request a fic with Chrismd? Something that's angsty and ends in fluff and smut pls <33

hiii, here you go <3 i hope this is to your liking!!

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

synopsis: you feel neglected by your boyfriend. so, you take matters into your own hands and he makes up greatly for the hurt he caused you. word count: 2.4k genre: angst, fluff, smut MDNI! warnings: chris comes off as a real bad bf in the beginning i apologise lol, mentions of breaking up, mentions of feeling neglected smut warnings: oral (f receiving), fingering, marking, praise, slight dirty talk (like one line fr), unprotected sex, creampie this was beta-read by the lovely @lovetaroandtaemin, thank you ally dearest <3

dating someone like chris was a challenge sometimes.

not because he wasn’t sweet or kind or wonderful. 

no, chris was all of these things. sweeter and kinder and more wonderful than anyone you had ever met before.

it was just that, sometimes, he wasn’t really present in your relationship. he was on shoots most days, was playing football with his mates, was not home when you came back from your “normal” nine to five. 

you missed him. a lot. and he just wouldn’t listen to you. whenever you brought up wanting to spend more time with him, he would always make up a new excuse as to why he couldn’t - at least not this week. but soon, he’d promise. 

as much as you wished you weren’t, you couldn’t help but be fed up with him and his constant apologies that weren’t any. fine, he’d send flowers to your office or leave a sweet note on your bedside table for when he was doing an overnight shoot for a new footy video. 

it wasn’t enough. no matter how hard you tried to deem it such, you just couldn’t.

which was how you ended up here.

chris had his preferred football field booked for the whole day, and you had decided to look for him there. since he wasn’t coming to you, you might as well go to him. 

it wasn’t chris who spotted you first, but george, his eyebrows shooting up. all of his friends knew you, but none of them had ever really seen you around sets before. 

“y/n?” he jogged over to the fence where you now stood with your hands in the pockets of your warm coat. 

“hi george. uh, any chance there is a break soon and you could call chris over?” you tried a small smile, but failed. george checked your face, trying to see if he could somehow figure out what was going on, but when he couldn’t, he nodded and told you to wait just a bit. 

shifting on your feet, you went over the words in your head again. you hated doing this. hated giving him an ultimatum. you hated him putting you in this situation much more, though. 

“babe?” not even five minutes later, chris hurried over to you, worry spread all over his face. you wished his presence didn’t immediately put you at ease. it would be so much easier if you did not still love him so bloody much. 

“hi. sorry for interrupting your shoot, i just- i really needed to talk to you.” 

chris nodded slowly, finally coming to a halt in front of you, his own hands buried in the pockets of his sports jacket. 

“is everything okay? you’re worrying me, love.” 

you swallowed down the urge to simply tell him you missed him. 

“chris, i-,” you took a deep breath, averting your gaze from his handsome face to the floor, “i don’t think i can go on this way.” 

“what do you mean?” chris’ worry turned into confusion, honest and raw, and you hated it. obviously, he would never even think of you breaking up with him. but then - were you really breaking up?

“i mean, chris, that i can’t do this anymore. not like this. i love you so much, but i rarely ever see you. you aren’t home when i’m home, and you don’t make time for me when i need you to. i miss you every single day, and you- you just,” you sighed, finally bringing yourself to look at him, “and you just continue doing whatever you want and don’t even take a second to think about me, about us. i feel like i don’t matter in this life of yours, that i am not a priority and i- i can’t do that anymore, chris, i can’t feel like this anymore.”

it was safe to say chris had not expected this. his face fell and his heartbeat rose, the cold air around him suddenly suffocating. 

“fuck, y/n.” he breathed out, pulling a hand through his blonde hair, “fuck, i- i’m so sorry, i-,” he didn’t even know where to begin. he wanted to go on his knees and apologise, wanted to turn back time. never had he ever wanted to make you feel this way. he knew he was busy with work, knew his youtube channel was his main priority - but so were you! but, apparently, he had failed at showing you just how much he loved you.

“i don’t want to do this, chris, but i- i need you to change, i need you to put me first, put this relationship first. you told me you want to spend your life with me, so please, spend it with me, chris.”

tears were now welling in your eyes, and chris took one big step, his hands finding their familiar place on your face.

“oh my love, i am so fucking sorry,” he wiped away the first tear that spilled with his thumb, shaking his head, “you’re right, i wasn’t- i wasn’t the best or even a good boyfriend these past few months. i took you for granted. i took us for granted, my love, and i am so beyond sorry. of course i want to spend my life with you, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me.” his thumbs caressed your cheeks and the sincerity in his eyes just made more tears well up. 

“chris,” you sniffed, interrupted only by him leaning down and pressing his lips against yours.

“i’m sorry. i will do better; i promise i will.” 

he kissed you again, and you felt relief wash over you. while it did still hurt a little that it had to come to this for him to really understand, you gladly accepted his words and kissed him back, your cold fingers finding their way into the curls at his nape. 

kissing him felt like home, felt like warm honey in ginger tea, felt like a blanket wrapped around you on a cold winter day. chris was your everything, your heart and your soul, your now and your forever. 

“let me tell the guys i’m taking you home. we were almost finished anyway.” he parted from you, his eyes sparkling, and you nodded, smiling lovingly up at him. 

“okay.” you said, slightly giggling when he pressed another kiss to your cheek before hurrying off to his friends, telling them the shoot was gonna end earlier. all of them were happy to go home, and chris’ team was kind enough to offer packing everything by themselves so he could be with you. apparently, they had all kind of seen the spectacle. 

chris and you went home then. the whole way, your fingers were intertwined. and even when he unlocked the door to your shared home, he wouldn’t let go. 

you didn’t let the possibility of him acting this way just for tonight cloud your mind. you felt it, felt him realising what he could lose if he didn’t put more effort into your relationship. 

when he kissed you, his fingers were still laced between yours. just that his other hand was now on your cheek, cradling it lovingly as the kiss deepend. his tongue carefully entered your mouth, licking against your tongue. electricity shot through your body right then, just like it always did. chris’ touches still felt like they did the first time; exciting and new and addictive. 

your arms found their way around his neck, knowing this kiss wasn’t going to end anytime soon and would most likely transform into something the two of you hadn’t done in quite some time. 

being this close to him again, feeling his heart beating against yours - it almost brought tears of happiness to your eyes.

chris’ kisses wandered from your lips down to your neck, and he led you into the bedroom, your shoes and coats left by the door. you let out a whine when he sucked on your skin, when his fingers dug into your nape. his only response was a chuckle. if anything, chris was a tease, but right now he was eager to get you onto the bed, eager to get your clothes off and to show you just how much you actually meant to him. how sorry he was and how he was going to make it all up to you. 

even without the words being spoken, you knew the second you were on your back with your boyfriend kissing down your body, your sweater and shirt and falling off your body and onto the floor. next was your bra, his lips worshipping your bare breasts, your nipple stiff against his nimble tongue. arching your back against him, his hands shoving down your jeans and panties in one go, leaving you naked and waiting for him to take what was his. 

“you’re so beautiful, you are perfect, and you are mine.you  will forever be mine, love.” his breath was hot against your belly, and you could only respond with a moan. there was nothing that could ever come close to the feeling of chris between your legs, of him tracing his fingers along your sensitive skin, the inside of your thighs becoming his canvas and his lips becoming the brush. marking you the way he did when you first got together as if to make everyone aware you were his - even when he was the only one who saw them. 

“oh chris,” your fingers found the top of his head, nails slightly digging into his scalp when he leaned down further, his lips still on your skin, sucking until you cried out, another breathy chuckle hitting your core. you were aching you needed him to touch you, to love you, to-

his tongue licked against your swollen bundle of nerves, your hips jerking forward and a gasp escaping you. chris wasn’t patient today. not anymore at least. he licked over your folds, nose bumping against your clit, his forefinger finding its way to your dripping entrance. 

“missed this so much.” his voice was raspy, feeling heavenly against your folds as his finger pushed into you inch by inch. oh, how much you had missed him, missed his touch, how he felt inside of you. how he instantly knew what to do, where your sweet spots were. chris was your perfect counterpart in every way.

chris continued to fuck his finger into you, slowly at first, but with every passing second he sped up, opening you up for him. his tongue licked circles around your clit, leaving you a breathless mess on the sheets. both your hands were clawing into his hair and you let out a deep moan when he pulled his finger out, only to push in with one more. scissoring them inside of you, knuckles deep and right where you needed them. your tummy tightened, toes curling, the delicious feeling of release suddenly so close. 

“are you gonna come for me, darling?” chris kissed your bud, smirking up at you, his own arousal getting more and more pressing. while he watched you nodding desperately, he moved his free hand to shove down his own trousers and briefs, freeings his erection. 

“god, chris, don’t stop.” your hips were basically riding chris’ face by now, chasing your first high of the night. chris was more than willing to give you anything you wanted. and when he pushed into you the next time, you felt the tightness within you snap, a flush of pleasure washing over you and cries of chris’s name leaving your lips as you enjoyed every second of the intense orgasm. chris led you through it, fingers hard at work and tongue licking over every bit of cum you had gifted him. 

“so good for me. my perfect girl, i love you so much.” chris’ lips moved up, fingers leaving your still throbbing core. he trailed kisses up your body, over your tummy and chest and finally back to your lips, a heated kiss erupting between the two of you. your own taste was on your tongue, and you pulled him closer, hands eagerly moving to the hem of his shirt. he was quick to rip it off, his bare defined chest making you bite down on your lip.

“i missed you so much.” your words made his heart break a little again, reminding him of the pain he caused you. he dipped forward, kissing you again with every bit of remorse he felt. oh, how badly he wanted to take back the hurt he caused you. how badly he wanted to heal the wound that had opened up between you two. he loved you so much, and he hated how he had treated you.

“i love you, i love you so fucking much.” 

his hand grabbed his cock, jerking it off a few times before aligning it with your cunt, pushing in quick and perfect as your legs wrapped around his waist. the long moan you let out was like music to chris’ ears. 

his first thrust was slow but deep, and your whole body tingled. nails dragged along his muscular back, his hips beginning to move fully now. slowly, deeply. driving you crazy. all while his lips chased yours, tongue and teeth and spit mixing together, making both of you feel hot all over. your breath melted into one just like your hearts did and with every second that passed, chris lost more and more of his control. his thrusts became quicker and harder, and both of your moans stopped you from kissing. 

“want you to come inside me, chris, will you please?” 

“fuck, of course i will. whatever you want, baby.” 

fucking you even quicker, his head thrown back, chris knew it wasn’t going to be long until he fulfilled your wish. when you clenched around him, his name like a prayer on your lips when his cock threatened to bring you over the edge any second - that’s when chris felt his own release. burying his cock as deeply into you as humanly possible, he let it wash over him - ropes of white hot cum released within your clenching walls, your second climax hitting you hard, milking chris’ cock for all he could give you. 

“i love you, i love you so much,” he kept on whispering into your ear as he fucked both of you through the highs, finally collapsing on top of you. chests heaving, you let your fingers caress his slightly marked back, feeling a sense of pride when you felt the traces you had left. he was yours. forever and always.

“i love you too, chris.” you finally whispered back, and when he kissed you this time, you fully believed everything was going to be okay.

[holly-fixation]

Suffering Seraphim

Killing him would have been a kindness.

By then, he knew he'd never return to the planet. He'd never see his real mother. He'd never die, not in a way that mattered.

Why did they wait until he became this... thing... before utterly destroying Mo- he sighed. Utterly destroying Jenova. The calamity from the stars. The killer of planets.

But she was gone now. The first and only thing he could think to do the moment her presence shattered was use the Planet's magic to throw meteor off course. Not a single shard grazed the planet.

Now he was... this.

A massive right wing out of his shoulder, organic but not bird like. A massive halo that always remained behind him, only visible in his own reflection. Six white feathered wings replacing his legs and flying forever in a subconscious pattern, not like he had the lower half of his body after Cloud unsuccessfully stopped him.

What he would give now to have died that day...

The group that defeated him didn't know what to do with what remained.

They didn't believe Aerith when she claimed to have severed the connection to Jenova and return his human feelings.

To make him human while leaving him like this, unable to look at his own reflection or his own body without knowing what he had done for the sake of achieving M- Jenova's dream, was too cruel.

To leave him in the Northern Crater alone was a kindness.

He quickly succumbed to the silence, the loneliness, and the supply drops from Shinra to keep him fed.

Of course they don't want his mind leaving again. Of course they- that company- those undeserving swine- could make amends while he only began his eternal suffering. The payloads contained enough to feed a while squadron, yet the box itself fit in the palm of his hand.

Maybe in thousands of years, they'll believe he was a god. Maybe in thousands of years, he won't remember his own name and simply accept eternity alone.

He wasn't sure how long after he fell into his mindless routine he heard two sets of footsteps enter the massive walls of sky blue materia, massive walls that reflected the monstrosity he became but housed him with the smallest pity.

He didn't turn to them.

"Leave."

His voice, too, was no longer what he remembered. Though the root remained, the echo and gravity boomed without his consent.

All he ever wanted was a normal life. Now this form would carry him to death.

"Sephiroth?" the girl that 'saved' him called. The girl that weaved every last strand of lifestream into the memories, into the guilt and emotion, into the human mind trapped within this seriphic and horrific body. With every knowledge of the pain and destruction his caused over those terrible five years.

His halo glowed brighter. He wings curled. He didn't turn to them.

"Leave me..."

That tiny part of his madness the girl couldn't removed whispered to play on her emotions if it made her leave. He hated it. He spoke with sadness because he felt sadness, not this unending manipulation.

"I brought someone you'll want to see. Please turn around?"

Who would want to see him? Hojo? The sitting president of Shinra? The Turks to test if he really couldn't die? Or was she here to lower his guard and trap him in the rock formation like the creature he once called Mother.

"Sephiroth...?"

He didn't recognize that voice. A woman too? A sad one?

"Sephiroth, is that really you...?"

...No. He would not turn.

"...Let me be alone."

A moment passed. He heard one set of footsteps move closer. Why was this group so persistent? What did he have left?

He didn't stop them despite the simple reality that a single flap of his wings would throw them against the walls.

He closed his eyes. At least then he could pretend he wasn't this abomination that only an abomination pretended to love.

Then something touched the front of his folded white wings. A soft hand. A soft question.

It couldn't be the cetra that did this to him. So his reptilian eyes opened.

To see the woman in his locket.

The same ribbon in her hair. The same shape of her face. The same eyes and nose and lips. The same sadness. The face once worn by the calamity to tip him to his breaking point now stared up at him with tears in her eyes.

"Sephiroth, I'm so sorry... I'm so so sorry..." she sobbed. The voice he always wanted to hear sobbed. She confessed about the experiment. She confessed why she couldn't reach him in the lab. Why she didn't burn Shinra to the ground to pluck him from the ashes.

"Mother...?"

He didn't care. Not anymore. For the first time, his voice felt small as his chest tightened as he waited for a single response.

"I don't deserve to be called a mother..."

He lifted her into his hands without thinking. He always pictured looking up at her taller form when he was young or down at her smaller form as he grew. He never imagined he'd be holding her to his chest and shoulder like a kitten.

He never imagined his own tears would be light and mako salted with newly formed pebbles of materia that twinkled in the sun.

This hell, this form, this fate, this nightmare, this calamity, this devil, this angel, this God, this tiny cetra, brought him the one thing he always searched for:

It brought him his mother.