#i just think that could’ve been super cool | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

velaenam · 17 days ago

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𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲

◦ ♡

𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐛 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 – non!mc. you are a successful aerospace engineer, a girlboss, with terrible luck in romance. let's hope this strangers website brings you out of that rut! 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 / 𝐭𝐰 – NSFW topics! mature themes, swearing/foul language, slow burn, talks of depression/mental health, guilt tripping, manipulation, tba 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬– not proofread. umm enjoy the domestic bliss before the inevitable 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 - 6 of many ! previous chapter | next chapter | playlist — reblogs comments & likes are appreciated. let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

it was cool, and the wind was picking up. you stood outside as you get out of the car. you patted your skirt downwards, making sure you didn’t have any wrinkles in your clothes. you were in linkon for the day to brief jenna on the findings that you’d discover. it had been a couple of days since you and caleb had your moment, and you were enjoying the casual conversation with him.

you two would text good morning to each other, and talk about your day as you meandered through work like normal. now more free than whispr, you both had some salacious conversations within the texting parameters. any shit talk, or any funny tidbits that happen in your day you made sure to text each other the news- like two teenagers gossiping. but it was fun. he was enjoying his public ability to talk to his powerful sexy mama super genius girlfriend and you were happy with finding out your internet crush was the 6 pack washboard abs super sweet and smart man that had you melting with one gaze.

except you weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend just yet.

there were just a couple of kinks to sort out. like the fact that he hasn’t asked you out yet, and as much as you loved to take the reins— these things were sacred to you. you wanted to feel like a woman loved. he’s supposed to ask you out. you already did your part.

you enter the headquarters and greet the receptionist once again before she pulls you into the room where your sister was at, and as you enter you’re met with a couple of her peers. one of them had glasses, and two other girls who had short and long brown hair. their gaze lingers at you— notably the short haired girl. you could’ve sworn her eyes twinkled at your arrival.

“ladies i’d like you to meet my sister” she introduces you to them as they wave with a sweet smile, “p-pleasure to meet you! i’m tara!” and the long brown haired girl extends her hand towards you, she gives you her name, but you didn't catch it . you give them a small smile with an acknowledging nod before you start the meeting.

you give them a briefing of the tests your team conducted regarding the wanderer and give them any more intel that could further assist them in the workings. after that you linger just a little bit more to discuss any topics that they might’ve had at hand. tara spent the majority of the day ogling you before you look down at your phone to see a text from himself

caleb: i miss you, pretty you: i miss you too handsome. what’s for lunch? caleb: was thinking of getting takeout, do you wanna come with? im going to linkon just for these famous noodles. you: already in linkon, wanna meet up? caleb: id never say no. ill meet you in 30?

your cheeks flush as you look up from the phone. jenna stares at you with a soft smile on her face as she turns her attention towards you, “you look like you’ve got an admirer.” and you wave her off, looking away and chuckling, “course not. boyfriend-er.. he was texting me.” you state and her brows raise. your slip up was for the lie, but she thought it was because you accidentally outed yourself “oh? boyfriend? since when?” —“since a couple days ago. we’ll discuss it over a dinner. im gonna go meet up with him for lunch. call me if you need anything.” you rise to stand up, and wave goodbye to the girls as you step out to go and meet caleb for lunch.

“these noodles are the best in linkon. you have to try it.” caleb nudges his chopsticks toward you as he dangles a piece of thick noodles at you. you were currently chomping down on a dumpling as he patiently waited for you to finish chewing. as he watches his smile gets bigger, and he places his palm on his jawline, leaning on his arm and staring you down— in a loving manner of course. you picked up the pace to finish digesting your dumpling and quickly gulp before you lean over to capture the noodles in your mouth.

your eyes widen at how soft the noodles were. it was paired with chili oil and this sweet red sauce you couldn’t make out. it was peppery and coated in umami as you nod fervently. he nods alongside you as he laughs at your reaction, “holy shit caleb this is so good?” you ask more than you exclaim and he keeps nodding, still laughing. your face is lit up with admiration as you watch him enjoy himself in front of you. he looked like an awe struck child sharing his treat. it was such a sweet moment, so sweet that it formed a core memory in your head.

you couldn’t help but lean forward and give him a small peck on his lips. aside from the chili oil he felt himself warm as he kissed back, falling forwards a bit from how passionate he was just a split second ago. you bit your lip as a blush crept on your face, “sorry i couldn’t help it..” you trail off as you slowly go to pick up a piece of your dumpling. your chopsticks met resistance as he swipes your last dumpling from you, a shit eating grin on his face, “don’t apologize. matter of fact—you should do it more often.” and your eyes trail away. he could only smile and enjoy the moment.

“umm, sexy pilot guy is your boyfriend? babes! how long have you kept me in the dark!” stacia cries through your phone as you ride back to skyhaven with caleb. you roll your eyes as she throws a fit through the phone, and caleb sits there, listening and laughing at your friend. “he’s here with me right now, and his name is caleb. also, we’ve literally been talking for a couple days, he’s not my boyfriend.” his smile falters a bit, but you don’t notice- not yet, as you hang up the phone on stacia mid conversation.

you look at caleb, and now notice his smile was gone. you tilt your head at him, “what’s the matter?” – “i’m not your boyfriend?” you roll your eyes again. lord who is this diva, “well you haven’t exactly asked me out on a date… nor have you asked me to be your girlfriend.” you poke his nose, and his hands meet yours. his large hands collapse over yours, as he leans to kiss your knuckles. you give him a small smile, “that’s true.. well… what are you doing tonight, miss ceo?”

“i was going to study a couple of schematics, buuuut, i can also make time for a handsome pilot. what do you have planned?” he pulls you closer to him, and you place your hands on his shoulder, “was thinkin’ i could cook you dinner tonight at my new apartment. just moved in.” you give him a nod, “wait i have a better idea, caleb.” your eyes twinkle in delight, your smile widening. his eyes widen back. “let’s go to your apartment right now.” you clasp your fingers,

it was downtown of skyhaven, a bustling hub. gorgeous parks and a good nightlife. caleb managed to snag a nice apartment with the help of his friends, and he just had a mattress in his room. it was real barren.

you walk around, taking a look at the living room. it was spacious. nice grey and black walls with a large skylight overlooking the downtown central park. he had a balcony that was bigger than yours. although the kitchen was your favorite. it was big, an island sits in the middle attached to a bar. the fridge had a screen as if it was a phone. the drawer and cabinets were in this dark color, maybe navy? it was screaming elegance.

“i won’t lie— i’m a bit jealous. your house is prettier than mine.” you cross your arms, taking mental notes from what kind of furniture would fit good with his rooms. caleb rounds the corner with your bag. he sets it down on the counter and walks near you, “what’s brewing in that noggin’ of yours?”

“i think we should go shopping for your apartment. what do you say?” he looks off to the side and rubs his arm, a sheepish chuckle coming from his lips. “id love to but i already spent alot of my money on the bills.” and you shake your head, “it’s fine. i can cover the expenses.” you say this and suddenly you feel like some sugar momma. a sense of dread comes over you, completely realizing, but you brush that off. you stare at calebs face waiting for him to respond. “oh no. no no i couldn’t possibly ask you to do that.” — “i promise it’s fine. i don’t mind at all caleb.” you attempt to alleviate him, and you could definitely tell he’d had some hesitancy. you tilt your head in a somber smile, “you seem more against this than anything.”

caleb holds his hands up in defense, “no it’s not that! i swear. just….majors told me that people only go after you for money.” he mutters, closing the distance between you two as he grabs your hands, placing it on his chest as he looks down at you, “i don’t want you to think that of me.. i can take care of myself, and i really appreciate you offering— it’s just.. i’d feel bad…” he whispers the last part of his sentence. you gave him a soft tap on his shoulder, as your laugh erupts from your mouth, “can’t believe majors is out here making friends with my partner. i thought i’d never see the day.” his face laces in pink embarrassment, and you wipe your tear from the corner of your eyes. his confession starts to alleviate your tenseness from your previous statement and your smile turns from a saddened onto a more relaxed one. you’d never hear anyone say that to you- so it felt new.. it felt really kind. you couldn’t quite pinpoint what the feeling was, but you wanted to thank him, instead, “when’s the last time you spoiled yourself?”

he couldn’t give you an answer

‘atelier seventeen’

it smelled expensive in here. something like eucalyptus, polished wood, and linen-washed ambition. the furniture showroom stretched across two floors, all glass and white tile, with a soft instrumental soundtrack playing in the background that made you feel like whispering. caleb shifted beside you, wide-eyed, hands in his pockets like he was trying to keep from touching anything he might accidentally owe a thousand dollars for.

he leaned in and whispered near your ear, “is this place…for people..like you?”

you bit your lip to stifle a laugh. “caleb, you live in a luxury skyhaven apartment with a view of the central park and your fridge can talk back. this store is made for you too.”

“yeah, well,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, “it doesn’t feel like it.”

you stopped in front of a display: a modular sectional wrapped in deep black velvet, with a smoked-glass coffee table and low, ambient floor lighting. you turned to look at him, already picturing the whole thing in his apartment.

“this would look amazing in your living room. especially with that huge skylight. it’d catch the morning light perfectly.”

he tilted his head, eyes flicking from the couch to you. “i don’t know… it feels too… put together. like the kind of couch that belongs to someone who drinks espresso looking outside of his balcony menacingly instead of eating breakfast.”

“you literally do that.”

“…right. shit.”

you smiled and took his hand, tugging him toward the next section. he followed willingly, letting your pace lead him past wall-mounted shelves, elegant lighting fixtures, and ergonomic chairs he couldn’t begin to understand. you stopped at a sleek, matte black dining table with navy blue accents.

“here. this is you.”

he raised a brow. “you think i’m blue and black?”

you shrugged, stepping around the table to inspect the matching chairs. “you’re bold without being flashy. solid, grounded. looks sharp. dependable.” he stared at the table. then at you. and then back to the table.

“…i’m weirdly honored.”

you bumped your shoulder against his arm, laughing softly. “come on, maverick boy. this is supposed to be fun.”

“i’m trying!” he insisted. “i just—this is a whole different world, you know? when you spend your life in hangars and barracks, living humbly, and for others, you don’t think about rugs or lamp aesthetics.”

“then i’ll think about them for you,” you said simply, “and you can sit there and look pretty while i redesign your home.”

he blinked. “…i can do that.” – “i know.”

you picked up a dark blue ceramic lamp with a brass base. “bedside. yes?”

he nodded. “whatever you say, boss.”

you paused, looked at him, and smiled. not teasing, not flirty—just quietly fond. “it’s not about spoiling you, you know. it’s about letting you rest. you deserve a home that feels like yours. especially when you just worked so hard the last couple years. think of this as a graduation gift.”

his lips parted slightly like he wanted to say something back. but instead, he just touched your wrist, eyes warm.

“thanks,” he murmured. “really.”

you squeezed his hand, then gently let go. “now come pick out a rug before i give you one with florals just to mess with you.”

“god. you’re terrifying.”

“and yet here you are.”

and so you wandered deeper into the store—him trailing behind, you in your element. for the first time, he let himself imagine what it might feel like to belong in something soft. something curated. something built not just to survive in—but to live in.

“holy shit what is that.” caleb bee lines it towards a bunch of displays showing planes, cars, etc on the shelf of the warehouse. his face lights up as his hands touch a model plane. he’d walk around the model with childlike wonder as he touched the anatomy of. you slowly catch up to him, your laugh escaping your lips as he nerded out, “do you want this one?” you tilt your head at him, examining the price: $15,000. in one swift motion, you snatch the price tag off of the corner of the display as he walked back towards you. his face was in amazement, as you hid the tag away from him, “yeesh. i bet it’s expensive.” and you shake your head at him, “i’ve got the same model, it’s not too bad.” you lie, leading the salesperson with your index finger towards the model, then you smile up at caleb, “what’s next?” you ask, already walking ahead to the next aisle, your expression all casual charm– but your heart’s still beating from watching his face light up like that.

caleb lingers for a second, glancing back at the model plane like it’s calling to him. then he jogs to catch up, falling into step beside you with a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“i still can’t believe they make that in full-scale detail,” he says, his voice trailing off like he’s imagining it in his apartment already. “that’s the aircraft that broke the record in rings five years ago. the way it was built– it shouldn’t have flown like that. i used to watch flight footage of it over and over again when i was a cadet.”

you glance at him out of the corner of your eye. “you know all the specs, don’t you?” he shrugs, looking suddenly bashful. “maybe” you give him a giggle, before your brows shot up “nerd,” you murmur, bumping your shoulder into his.

“hey, you’re literally the aerospace engineer here.. and–” he says, playful. “-you’re the one bribing warehouse staff into giving me aerodynamic furniture.”

“i prefer ‘surprise interior design investment,’” you reply, brow falling back in place. he laughs, that easy, magnetic laugh that makes the salesperson down the aisle look over and smile without even knowing why.

you turn the corner into a new section—lighting displays and sleek, modular bookshelves. caleb pauses next to a lamp shaped like a turbine.

“okay,” he says, gesturing at it, “this one feels like it belongs in a spy movie. but like, in the villain’s lair. see it?”

“you mean your living room?”

“...yea.”

you chuckle, stepping ahead again, but he doesn’t move. when you glance back, he’s still staring at the lamp—but really, he’s watching you in the soft showroom lighting. something about the way you casually took the price tag earlier. the way you knew not to make a big deal about it. the way you looked back at him now, pretending you weren’t checking to see if he was okay.

“you keep doing that,” he says quietly.

“doing what?”

“making things feel simple.” and you blink once, caught off guard—but then you offer a quiet smile, gentle and unspoken. “it’s supposed to be.” he rubs the back of his neck again, eyes flicking to the next aisle.

“you think i’m allowed to get a couch with cupholders?”

“caleb.”

“okay, okay,” he laughs. “just checking.” you roll your eyes, but your hand finds the edge of his jacket and tugs him forward again. “let’s find you one that doesn’t squeak when you sit down.”

and together, you wander deeper into the store—his awe still glowing under the surface, your presence guiding it gently, steadily. you and caleb shop for a couple more things ,until he figured it was too much. you had the men load it in their truck to get it sent to his apartment, and afterwards the two of you go back to his place, picking up some take out on the way.

the door unlocks with a familiar click, and caleb pushes it open with one hand while balancing the remaining takeout bag in the other. “honestly, i still think that lamp was staring into my soul.”

you step in behind him, ready with a retort—but stop short.

the apartment has transformed.

gone is the bare minimalism, the quiet echoes of an empty space. in its place: the deep velvet couch you picked, settled like it was always meant to live beneath the skylight. the turbine lamp hums gently in the corner, its soft light catching on the edges of the new rug– textured, warm, grounding. and in the center of it all, sitting proudly on the entry console like a centerpiece in a museum: the model plane.

caleb sets the bag down slowly, mouth parting just a little. “whoa.”

you slip past him, your steps soft against the new carpet. “looks like they beat us here.”

he walks in like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to—eyes sweeping the room, pausing at every piece like he’s memorizing it. his hand runs across the back of the couch. “this… doesn’t feel like my place anymore.”

you glance over, caught off guard. “what do you mean?”

“i mean it feels like…” he trails off, looking toward the kitchen. the bar stools are set in place. the lamp is lit. the room has a heartbeat now.

“...like a home.”

you fold your arms loosely, watching him as he slowly turns in a circle to take it all in.

“you sure you’re not overwhelmed?” you ask, half-teasing.

he looks at you then, really looks, and there’s something warm behind his eyes. “no. i’m just wondering how the hell i got this lucky.”

you let out a soft laugh, brushing your knuckles against the edge of the island. “just wait till you see what i’ve got planned for your bedroom.”

he raises a brow. “should i be scared?”

you shrug. “only a little. what if i put a sex dungeon in there?” – “well we’ll put it to good use, then” you brush the comment off, a tint in your cheeks as you look away, laughing to yourself.

he crosses the room in a few steps and stops in front of you, quieter now. “hey.”

you meet his eyes.

“thank you,” he says. not joking. not dodging. just honest. “i’ve never had a space that felt this… mine. and you did that. you didn’t have to, but you did.”

your chest tightens, but you cover it with a smile. “you earned it. you’re the one who brought the maverick home.”

he huffs a quiet laugh, stepping even closer, his voice dropping.

“you realize this means you’re stuck helping me assemble every piece of furniture that comes through that door now, right?”

“caleb,” you say dryly, “i already ordered the tools.” he grins—wide and effortless, and for a moment, he just looks at you like he can’t believe you’re real.

and across the room, the little model plane sits beneath the afternoon sun, catching light like it was always meant to belong.

as you pick up the take out and lead to the couch– that thankfully- was already assembled, and in front of his flatscreen. caleb trails you with the drinks as you both sit down. the couch is ridiculously comfortable. you’re half-sunk into one of the cushions, one leg tucked beneath you, while caleb sits next to you with a carton of takeout balanced on his knee.

the food sits open on the coffee table—chopsticks, drinks, and a barely-touched bowl of noodles because you’ve both been too caught up laughing to focus.

some ridiculous cooking show for failures. it was just simple background noise now as you both talk about random things.

“okay, but what color was your childhood bedroom?” caleb asks mid-bite, pointing his chopsticks at you. “i’m betting something sensible. like... navy.” you scoff. “please. it was custom-painted blush. with hand-stenciled clouds on the ceiling.” he freezes mid-chew. “blush?” – “and the closet was a walk-in. had a chandelier. my mother insisted.”

caleb blinks, then breaks into a laugh. “you’re kidding.” “i’m not,” you say, smirking. “she had an interior designer redo the room every three years. themed. once it was paris. once it was….‘feminine futurism.’”

“what does that even mean?”

“no one knows. the curtains were made of silk. the bookshelves were imported. i think i had a chaise lounge at one point.”

he whistles, clearly impressed and confused. what the hell was a chaise? “and here i was thinking you just came out of the womb calculating thrust ratios.”

you shrug. “i had help getting places. doesn’t mean i didn’t work to stay there.”

he quiets for a second. then smiles, easy and fond. “makes sense. explains the confidence. and the tendency to redecorate other people’s apartments.”

you reach over and steal a dumpling from his box. “i’ll show you the designer portfolios if you ever want your bedroom themed.”

“please,” he says, mock-serious. “give me ‘masculine minimalism’ with a splash of pilot-core.”

you nearly choke on your drink . “pilot-core?”

“you started it.” you roll your eyes, then look around the couch, almost forgetting. you look at caleb with a grin as you pointed at the arm of the couch, “check it out.” you laugh like a goofball as he opens it– cup holders in tow.

when he finally catches his breath from his childlike excitement, he nudges your knee with his own. “alright, your turn. guess mine.” and you narrow your eyes at him, pretending to analyze. “gray.”

“wrong.”

“beige?”

he makes a face. “worse.”

“oh no. was it—”

“bright orange,” he says, grinning sheepishly. “with blue trim.”

you blink. he holds his hands up in defense, “i was nine! it was ‘space commander’ themed. i thought it looked like a rocket cockpit.”

you burst out laughing, leaning back against the couch. “that’s horrifying. and yet so on brand.”

“yeah, well,” he says, bumping his shoulder lightly into yours, “not everyone gets to have chaise and blush” – “you don’t even know what chaise is, caleb.” – “exactly why i’m mocking you.” you bump his shoulder lightly, as you both laugh in sync. this felt so natural, sweet. like two hearts in love, and a part of you felt like it was healing.

you weren’t privy to romance in this way. you only knew love and romance from as much exposure as you could have, like your parents, your siblings and their wives, but even then, you kept to yourself most of the time. you had no real connection with the men you dated, and so for this one to make it beyond pecks, beyond hand holding, and lavish dates. even something silly like furniture building and take out, not once, but twice. it was kind of mesmerizing to you.

but something also felt different. you couldn’t place it, you wanted something more, but your brain couldn’t explain to you why that was. you shrug it off, throwing it in the proverbial back burner as you face your attention to caleb once more. you still needed to finish putting the other things together.

a soft playlist hums through the apartment—something mellow, old, and easy. the kind of music that belongs in kitchens and sunday afternoons.

the bookshelf pieces are spread out across the floor like a puzzle waiting to test your patience. caleb crouches beside the pile with a half-read instruction manual in one hand and a drill in the other.

“you ever built furniture before?” you ask, handing him a set of screws.

he shrugs. “if planes count.”

“umm.. they don’t.”

“then no.”

you snort, rolling your eyes as you line up one of the side panels. caleb kneels next to you, and as you both settle into the rhythm—measuring, aligning, anchoring. it’s weirdly peaceful.

you steal glances at him when he concentrates. the way his brow furrows a little when he double-checks the alignment. the way he hums along with the music. the way he looks so at home, sitting cross-legged on the rug in the apartment you helped him fill.

“you’re really good at this,” he says suddenly, not looking up.

“what, building things? it's my job sweetie”

“yeah. that. and this.”

he gestures loosely at the room. the warm lights. the scent of leftover takeout. the bookshelf half-assembled between you. his voice softens.

“making things feel like they matter.” you pause, screwdriver in hand, and glance at him.

“well, captain apple, you matter,” you say quietly with a tinge of comedicness, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

his smile is small but genuine. and when you both return to the bookshelf, the silence between you isn’t empty. it’s full of everything unspoken—warm, easy, and undeniable.

the bookshelf stands.

it’s a little crooked at the top because caleb overtightened one of the brackets, but you said it gave it character, and he swore it was intentional after that.

the rug’s been straightened. the coffee table has your tools lined up neatly on one side and two mugs of peppermint tea on the other. the lights are dim now—just the glow from the turbine lamp and the soft under-light from the kitchen island casting a warm haze across the room.

music plays low, something slow and melodic. probably one of your more relaxed playlist.

you’re curled up on the couch, legs tucked under you, a blanket half-thrown over both of you. caleb leans back, arm draped along the backrest, fingers occasionally brushing the edge of your shoulder, never staying long.

“i can’t believe it actually looks like someone lives here now,” he says, surveying the room. you smile. “someone does.” he glances down at you, his expression soft and unreadable.

“you made it feel real.” you shrug, not meeting his eyes. “wasn’t hard. you just needed a couch that doesn’t creak and a lamp that doesn’t give off interrogation room vibes.”-- “you say that like you didn’t pick that lamp specifically.” – “well, yes,” you admit, smug, “but if i said that, it’d ruin the illusion of generosity.”

he chuckles, the sound is lazy, tired, and happy. you glance up at him, catching the way his face looks in the low light. relaxed. at peace. you lean your head against his shoulder without thinking. he doesn’t flinch. just breathes in slowly and shifts slightly, enough to let his arm settle behind you more comfortably.

the show still plays in the background. something light, something funny. but neither of you are really watching anymore. your eyes are half-closed, and caleb’s heartbeat is steady beneath where your temple rests.

“you tired?” he murmurs. you nod softly, “mm. maybe.” and he doesn’t move. doesn’t suggest you leave. doesn’t joke about it. just says: “you can stay.” and it’s the way he says it—like of course you can. like he hopes you will. and as you think about saying yes.. a part of you feels.. odd. you felt blissful, all day. up until now.

you still didn’t feel right with what had happened between you two and his so called friend. it gave odd vibes. you didn’t quite enjoy being a second choice, and if he didn’t know you weren’t the person he was texting, he probably would have never mentioned it to you. this gives you a sense of dread, as you peel from caleb. your smile lingered, but the trajectory of that smile was no longer of sweetness– it was sad. one that he thankfully couldn’t tell.

you shake your head– kissing his cheek as you stand up, “i’ve got some reports to review tomorrow morning.. but i’ll text you when i get home, okay?” he stands up as he nods, taking your hand and leading you to the door. this act alone made you want to stay. but you couldn’t fold. not now. even though you wanted to so bad.

he gives you slight puppy dog eyes as he nods, leaning forward, his lips capturing yours. you felt your stomach burn with passion. your breath hitched as you lean forward– before backing away quickly, silent

“i’d ask you if you didn’t enjoy that– but you’re beet red, honey.” you shake your head, clearing your throat as you give him another smile as you leave him for the night.

the door clicks shut behind you.

caleb stands there for a moment, hand still on the knob, staring at the quiet hallway you just disappeared into. he exhales, slow and controlled, before he locks the door and turns back into the room. the apartment feels different now. not because you're gone – but because you were here.

his eyes sweep over the living room. the couch still has the slight impression where you were curled up. the tea mugs sit empty on the coffee table, one of them with your lipstick on the rim. the blanket is half-folded, crooked, like the way you’d always say, “that’s good enough.”

he drags a hand through his hair, then walks into the kitchen. leans on the island with both hands. he’s still in his hoodie, the sleeves pushed up, fingertips warm from where they’d brushed your shoulder earlier.

it’s never been this quiet in here. not in a bad way. just... noticeable. he opens the fridge without thinking – mostly to do something. nothing inside he wants. closes it again.

caleb moves to the console table by the door. the model plane is already there, centered, catching the soft light from the lamp across the room. he runs his fingers along the wing. careful. reverent.

you bought this. you didn’t even blink when you saw the price. you just smiled and made it happen. he sighs through his nose, then steps back. scans the apartment again. it’s no longer just four walls. it’s a space that breathes now. because of you.

caleb pads back toward the couch. flops down with a soft grunt. one leg sprawled over the armrest. the blanket still smells like your perfume: something faint, expensive, and familiar.

he reaches for the remote. pulls up the last show you were half-watching. lets it play. he’s not really paying attention. just watching the soft flicker of the screen. the movement of shadows across the walls. the way his body still remembers the weight of you leaning on him.

he doesn’t fall asleep. he just stays there — awake, still, and quietly full of something he doesn’t know how to name yet. but it feels good. and it feels like it’s going somewhere.

you wake up before your alarm.

there’s a sliver of morning light creeping in through the blinds, painting pale gold across your bedsheets. everything’s still — the kind of still that only exists before the city fully stirs. you blink a few times, adjusting, and reach blindly for your phone at the edge of the nightstand.

5:23 a.m.

you sit up slowly, rubbing your eyes. for a second, you think about crawling back under the blanket, but your phone buzzes in your hand — a call, not a text.

you blink at the name.

caleb.

you answer, voice still groggy. “hello?” there’s a pause, then: “wait–you’re awake?” you can hear the smile in his voice already. you yawn softly. “barely.” –“i’m genuinely impressed,” he says, laughing. “i thought i was the only one who voluntarily existed at this hour.”

you shift, tucking your knees up under your blanket as you lean back against the headboard. “guess you’re not special anymore– wait you didn’t even know if i was awake or not– you just said fuck it and called me?”

“it’s a talent of mine” he says, lying through his teeth. he genuinely didn’t think you’d be awake. he was going to just leave a voicemail for you to wake up to. he thought that’d be sweet. “notice when i tell you good morning, i tell you good morning at like 6 am, not 5. ” your voice is slightly muffled as you move around in the bed. he just chuckles, "touche.."

“what’re you doing up?” you ask, rubbing your thumb over the edge of your phone.

“gym,” he replies easily. “i always go early. gets my head right before flight sim. no lines, no distractions… plus it’s quiet. the hangar looks kind of eerie at this hour, not gonna lie.”

“bet you love that,” you murmur, smiling. “i do. it’s peaceful,” he says. then adds, a little softer: “makes me feel like i’ve got the whole world to myself.” you hum, eyes fluttering closed again. “you heading in after?”

“yeah. should be at base by 6:30. i think we’ve got a systems run scheduled, right?”

“we do,” you say. “you’ll see me there.” there’s a small pause, that comfortable kind – and you can picture him leaning against a locker, hoodie on, hair damp from the shower, phone pressed to his ear as the first bits of sunrise creep into the sky behind him.

“well,” he says, voice low and warm, “try not to fall back asleep.”--“no promises.” he laughs again, soft and fond. “i’ll bring coffee. see you soon.” – “see you soon,” you echo. you end the call, smiling into the morning quiet.

fuck whatever you were just thinking last night. this man made you swoon at 5 in the morning.

the halls of the base are alive now – boots echoing off metal, comms buzzing low in the background, the constant hum of movement behind every sealed door. pilots pass by in uniform, nodding greetings, tablets in hand, flight schedules loaded and blinking.

you step out of the diagnostics wing, already halfway through your morning checklist, tablet tucked under your arm. you barely make it five steps before you hear–

“hey.”

you turn and theres caleb’s walking toward you down the corridor, dressed in his uniform and looking infuriatingly good in it – flight suit sleeves pushed to his forearms, hair still a little tousled, like he barely ran his fingers through it after the gym, good…lord..i wonder if he needs a dog so i can- there’s a takeaway cup in his hand.

he grins as he gets closer. “told you i’d bring coffee.” you take it with a quiet smile, fingers brushing his, completely eviscerating the stupid dog comment you were about to make to yourself. it’s warm in your palm – exactly your order. no need to ask.

“you’re good,” you murmur. “i know,” he says, like it’s nothing. “come here.”

he steps around you, guiding you gently by the wrist into a narrow alcove off the main hall – a shadowed space between briefing rooms where the noise of the base softens, and no one ever lingers long. you blink up at him as he sets a hand against your waist, the other resting just above your hip. he leans in slowly, not rushed �� just close enough that his breath brushes your cheek.

“been thinking about doing this all morning,” he murmurs.

you part your lips to answer, but he’s already there – kissing you softly, deliberately, like he’s memorizing it. his hand tightens slightly at your waist. your free hand finds the collar of his uniform. it’s quiet, but sure.

when he pulls back, he’s smiling. “hi,” he says, like it’s the first time. you laugh under your breath. “hi.”

a voice echoes down the hall – a name being called for sim prep. caleb glances over his shoulder, then back at you, eyes still warm.

“i’ll see you in the sim bay?” you nod, still a little breathless.he squeezes your waist once before stepping away, walking backward for a few steps before turning fully, still grinning as he disappears around the corner. you take a sip of your coffee, heart pounding steady and full, and start walking the opposite direction – but not without one last glance back. yeah. he can totally fix you.

yknow i was asking myself- who is richer, the reader, or sylus? it's sylus- duh. we cant compete to that man. BUT you know it got me thinking. how much money do you actually have? WELL LETS BREAK IT DOWN BABY GORL.

you're an aerospace engineer, so ur already raking in big big bucks. u have ur own freaking company, and you're the source for A LOT of commissions and creations for aircrafts of all kinds. you invest in stocks/personal investments (bc your brother taught you how to) , you have a trust fund that you haven't even touched yet, you have royalties and patents from the DAA, soo you'd probably be making about 9-figures (10 figs on a gewd year) , with a 500+ mil net worth, and u do get more money as years pass soo..... im throwing random numbers up in the air. feel free to tell me to stfu.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ! - @rcvcgers, @mcdepressed290, @young-adult-summer, @unstablemiss, @britishfailure, @caramelizedpopcirn, @velvtcherie, @lonelylandofan , @llamabois , @i-messed-up-big-time , @mysticcollectionvoid, @iamawkwardandshy, @auraficial, @mxkvlio, @mysticcollectionvoid, @rxelarailuj, @angelwhizpers, @p5ycholuv, @dysphxriaii, @loversobession, @lucifers-silhouette, @alayaaaahhhhhh, @dwuclvr,

#lads x reader #love and deepspace #lads caleb #lads #lads mc #loveanddeepspace #caleb x reader #lnds caleb #lnds #calebmc #caleb lads #love and deepspace caleb #caleb x non!mc reader #mc x caleb #non mc x caleb #non!mc x caleb #xia yizhou

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astr0logywh0r3 · 1 year ago

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astrology observations ☽

1.) moon conjunct pluto ppl have an intense relationship with their mother. it’s either a strong hate or a strong love. the mother could’ve been extremely overbearing to the point that the native felt suffocated at times. these people are very secretive with their emotions. it’s like their emotions are inside of a dark and mysterious treasure chest that only they know the key to. the intensity runs high. explosive emotions …outbursts. could have gone to a mental health facility once in their life or been diagnosed with mental disorders.

2.) ik ppl say scorpio ascendants are supposed to be all mysterious and intimidating but honestly i see a lot of them looking very: 🌸🍄🫧

3.) scorpio mercurys are pretty quiet

4.) aquarius moons be liking the things other people hate

5.) when someone starts annoying a scorpio moon they’ll just go and talk to someone else for a while. they’re vindictive

6.) i ain’t never seen a libra sun girl i didn’t find pretty in one way or another

7.) lilith in the 10th house and scorpio mc are super hot placements for someone to have imo. it makes someone seem mysterious and cool 💀 just a lot of sex appeal

8.) so many ppl wanna be impressing scorpio suns 😭

9.) if you got a lot of planets in the 10th house or are sun dominant …you like attention. period.

10.) venus conjunct mars people are so damn magnetic. they usually have a lot of relationships and date a lot of people

11.) 9th house placements love their freedom

12.) venus in the 10th house ppl give girl next door type of beauty to me. it’s a very girly and feminine type of prettiness. people admire them and wanna date them

13.) venus in the 8th house loves the femme fatale/witchy type aesthetic for themselves

14.) saturn in the 12th house can make someone feel really lonely and sad in their life

15.) jupiter in the 1st house/conjunct the ascendant ppl seem larger than life. like ..if you see a picture of them you might think theyre tall but then you realize they’re actually pretty short 💀

16.) sun square lilith women are intimidating and reckless. they do what they want when they want with who they want. speak their mind.

17.) lilith in sagittarius can be atheists and totally reject religion

18.) capricorn risings with the perfect dry humor 💀 they look cool and act cool

19.) virgo risings either have hella big doll eyes or small squinty eyes

20.) pisces suns …y’all walk funny 😭

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spicycinnabun · 1 month ago

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can i ask for werewolf au 🐺🐺🐺 please in "make me write"

“Don’t go down there.”

Tommy’s voice didn’t startle Buck—perks of the super wolfy hearing—but he did take his hand off the doorknob with a guilty smile.

“Sorry,” he said. “Just curious.”

He was feeling well enough now to get up and move around, and though he hated leaving Tommy’s bed, his wolf had been tugging restlessly on the leash, urging him to explore more of the den.

Tommy chuckled. “Yeah, I’m gathering that. Kinda surprised you’re a werewolf and not a werecat.”

“I’m not nearly graceful enough to be a werecat. You, uh, hiding some dead bodies or something?” Buck joked. He glanced at the door again.

Knowing he wasn’t allowed to go into the basement now made it so much more tempting. Like looking at a big red button that said do not touch!

“No. It’s just a mess. I’m renovating.”

That was a perfectly normal, acceptable answer, yet Buck couldn’t help but feel like it wasn’t the truth.

“Hmm, don't know if I believe you,” he said playfully. “Maybe you're actually a mad scientist, and your secret lab is down there?” He tugged on the drawstring of his borrowed sweats. “Or maybe you’re hiding a crazy sex dungeon.”

“You caught me,” Tommy responded, dry as sand. “It’s my sex dungeon. So unless you want to get tied up and spanked, you’ll stay out.”

Oh.

Oh, boy.

Those were some interesting images going through his head.

“Um,” Buck said eloquently, blood rushing to his cheeks.

Tommy took pity on him. “I’m kidding, Evan.”

Buck laughed. It sounded weird. Where was his sanity? It certainly wasn’t in the room anymore.

And he still wanted to open that door. But, like a good boy, he didn’t push. Instead, he hastily altered course. “You’re a pilot, right? At the harbor station? I saw your pictures on the mantelpiece.”

The connection had excited Buck. And maybe he had drooled a little seeing the Alpha standing next to a chopper, wearing a flight suit and sporting a big grin. He looked so happy. Right in his element. Just like Buck felt at his job.

Tommy’s smile grew, crinkles appearing. It transformed his face, just like in the photos. Buck’s heart literally pitter-pattered. (God, he needed to get a grip.) “Yeah. I was with a different station before I transferred to air ops. Best decision I’ve ever made.”

“Nice.” Buck stopped himself from adding how cool he thought it was. He had repeated that word far too many times since he’d met Tommy. “Must be fun to fly. Which station were you at before?”

“The one-eighteen.”

Buck’s eyes widened. “No way! That’s my station! I—I’m a firefighter, too.”

That meant Buck wasn’t the first werewolf to work there. He wondered if Bobby knew about Tommy’s lycanthropy, and that was why he’d taken Buck’s so stoically. It was such a crazy coincidence. If their timelines had synced up, they could’ve worked together.

“Yeah?” Tommy folded his arms, appraising him. “That makes a lot of sense. You seem like the type.”

Buck’s chest puffed up with pride, his blush reigniting. Was it his physique? His demeanor? Did Tommy think he looked like a hero? “Thanks!” He quickly changed the subject, not wanting to linger on himself. “So, you know Hen and Chim?”

Tommy nodded. “I did. They’re great people.”

Buck was about to ask another question when he noticed Tommy subtly glancing at his watch. He stepped backward. “Sorry. I-I’m talking your ear off again.”

Tommy’s eyebrows raised. “You apologize too much, Evan. You’re fine. I do have to go pick up a package in a few minutes, though. Want to come for a ride?”

Those words triggered the same internal reaction as wanna go for a walk? Buck grinned. Some fresh air would probably feel awesome and stop him from making a bigger fool of himself. “Okay! Uh, do—do you mind if I shift?”

His wolf loved truck rides, which Eddie never failed to tease him about. He could easily be mistaken for a dog if he kept himself somewhat hidden.

Tommy looked amused. “I don’t mind. I’ll have to re-wrap your dressing, though.”

Have Tommy’s hands on him again? Buck had no problem with that at all.

“I’ll be right back.” He dashed for the bathroom, pleased when he only limped a little bit.

“Hey, take it slow!” Tommy called after him.

Sheepishly, Buck followed the Alpha’s command.

⏾

tag list: @justahumblecabbagemerchant @loulou-land @harmonic-intervention @sweaters-and-silly @theallyandhisbeast @brassm-tagged @scuderiadebauchery @chococara25 @darkqueen458 @cinderellarhea @setmeatopthepyre @buffaluff @eliotwaughdeservesbetter @figuringitoutaloud @cannibalhellhound @i-dont-even-know-anymore976 @ambernotember @the-omniscient-narrator @zeraparker

#thanks!!#make me write #not sure how i feel about this update #but here we go #failwolf #bt weewoof au #fic #evan buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy #bucktommy au #bucktommy fic #firebeast #kinley #tevan #firepilot #werewolf au #🐺

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archivedblog16 · 5 months ago

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Something that's been bugging me in regards to Loona's new form from the recent episode is that there was no foreshadowing, world building, or whatever arc you call it that explained how Loona, or more specifically HELLHOUNDS, were at any point in this show able to turn into actual HELLHOUNDS. Without any of those things, that scene didn't feel like a moment where a character gains a new ability out of adrenaline or a sense of danger. It felt more like something that she managed to pull out of her ass cause the writers or more specifically Viv just wanted to do something cool and edgy for her in the season finale.

When I saw Loona’s actual hellhound form, it literally reminded me of an fan animatic I watched 2 years ago. Anon, they literally have Moxxie riding Loona as well. 💀

Vivziepop solely wrote the Sinmas episode, so she pulled it out of her ass and made more convenient so the IMP team could win. And once again Loona’s actual Hellhound form has more questions than answers.

There was no buildup or hints what so ever for her true hellhound form. She easily could’ve used it in Truth Seekers, Western Energy, or even in the Seeing Stars flashback episode.

Loona still has her clothes during her true hellhound form on is very weird. You would think she would be naked. And, the extra eyes are just unnecessary because in a few frames before, they only show 2 eyes making it very inconsistent.

Also how does this form work? Is only when Blitzø is in danger or when she is super anger?

#vivziepop critical #vivziepop criticism #anonymous #helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism

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rayesgenesis · 5 months ago

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Hi can I plz request a Ben Florian fic where the reader is the daughter of Scar and shes just super stressed out bc the media nitpicks everything she does, and Ben makes her feel better? Tyyy

the lighthouse in the storm. — ben florian.

a/n: i thought i would never finish this request.. but i did!! anyways i hope you’ll like it, i tweaked it a bit 💌

who? scar’s daughter!reader x ben florian

summary: you usually never thought twice about what the press had to say about you, until one night, it all came crashing down on you. thankfully, ben was here.

sometimes you forget how uptight auradonians can be.

all their ridiculous standards, kingdom rivalries, their criminal system, even the king, himself. all of it was one big joke. so how come it became a problem when you told one of your own?

in retrospect, you could’ve chosen any other day to joke that you were not above eating a few babies to get out of the celebration. family day, definitely wasn’t the day to do it on, even more so when you were the girlfriend of the soon-to-be king.

but god forbid you tell a joke.

was it bad taste? sure, you’ve told better jokes. however, did you mean it? of course not.

you were wrong for thinking anybody would get it, really. you should’ve known from the gasps and horrified faces what type of crowd you were facing. the press didn’t appreciate your little joke either, and they attributed it, as usual, on you having malicious intent.

what took you by surprise was the public’s response. you grew paranoid as everywhere you looked almost everyone was mean mugging you, hate comments were flooding your social media accounts and it only worsened your mental state. usually, you would’ve loved the attention but for the first time in your life, you detested it.

amidst all the chaos, ben stayed by your side. he had been so patient, caring and understanding with you that oftentimes, you didn’t think you deserved it. no other princess was making headlines during weeks straight for not smiling at an event or for a comment she passively made. the scrutiny, the critcs, it was all too much for you.

despite never verbalizing it, a small part of you suspected that ben thought no different than everyone else. deep down, at least. you knew that you were a piece of work and maybe he’d finally run out of patience. villains weren’t awarded second chances very often in auradon, and even though things had changed, you felt as if you participated in taking a huge step back. remorse, as they call it.

he must have been scared, like everybody else always was. you felt it, everyone walking on eggshells around you. you often reveled in the fear that you instilled in people but sometimes, you just wanted to be seen for who you were. and not for who you were pretending to be.

one night, you were lying down in bed, up thinking about it all. ben was sound asleep next to you, poor boy had spent all day working his ass off, as always. you took a long look at him before carefully slipping out of his embrace, the bed letting out a slight creak as you did. the cool air washed over you as you stepped onto the balcony and looked out at the isle.

battling against the flow of tears that threatened to run down your face, you wondered. were you and your dad destined to be shunned? was it how it was always going to be? when you’d get to overthinking, your dad would always remind you that you were every bit as royal as the kids in auradon and that you shouldn’t diminish yourself for their comfort.

it was difficult to not miss your father in these moments. trying to fit into these standards was uncomfortable to say the least, the boxes too narrow and the titles too heavy.

ben emerged from the bedroom, stepping out onto the balcony, his footsteps loud enough for you to hear. he had stirred awake the second he felt your warmth leave his side. coming to a stop right behind you, his hands found their usual place on your waist, rubbing circles into them. and his head rested on your shoulder.

"you’re up late." he kissed the top of your head.

"mm, so are you." you murmured, turning just enough in his embrace, a small, almost sly smile on your lips.

he hummed in return and moved his hands to massage your shoulders, his touch gentle. "can’t sleep either, i take it?" his voice soft with a layer of concern draped over it.

as his hands did their dance on your shoulders, your eyes fluttered shut for a moment at the contact as you felt yourself relax further. "something like that." you answered him, exhaling through your nose.

of course there was more to it but not even on a night such as this, were you willing to admit any sort of weakness or complain.

despite your relaxed nature, ben could sense some restraint in your response. your tone told him that he shouldn’t push further and he knew he could never force you to open up, nonetheless, he still wished you wouldn’t keep everything to yourself.

he paused his hand’s movements and exhaled through his nose. "you know you can tell me anything, right?"

your insides squeezed. he just always knew, didn’t he? for the briefest second, the thought to lie crossed your mind but as you turned around and gazed in his eyes, you quickly found yourself unable to. you were strong, but ben somehow was the only one who could make you crumble.

one of ben’s hands moved to cup your face while the other landed on your waist again, and you leaned into his warm palm, your eyes closing. “i know."

"then talk to me…"

ben’s eyes inspected your face, sensing that he’d find a piece of the truth on it. not that he didn’t trust what you said but he was aware of how you’d made an habit of putting up walls as a way to protect yourself. as a result, he always made an effort of reminding you that you were safe with him and he was glad to see you lowering those walls at times, even if it was just a little.

the way he spoke to you let you know that he wouldn’t allow you brushing him off this time. and here you thought that you were doing a great job at hiding your restlessness these past few weeks. it worked with the vks, who hadn’t noticed a single thing. but ben seemed to just know something was wrong.

the idea of anyone, knowing you so intimately should’ve frightened you— at least it used to. however, with ben, it felt safe.

your eyes opened and you stared at his chest for a second, before looking back up at his face. you didn’t bother to hide your exhaustion anymore. it was difficult to be vulnerable— that’s why you never did. however, being with ben made you have a change of heart.

"i don’t know if it’s stress or what," you finally managed to spit out, your eyes darting between his own, "but the public, the press— they’re never happy, are they? at least with me, they’re not happy with anything i do, not happy with the way i act, the way i speak, the way i dress—"

exhaling deeply, you continued. "it´s like they’re out to get me or something. and you know how much i hate to mope around but, it truly feels like no matter what i do, i can’t win.”

ben listened, absorbing every word that came out of your mouth. he knew how harsh and cutthroat the tabloids could be however hearing you talk about it, the effect it was having on you, was something else entirely.

his heart clenched at the sight of you in this state. you weren’t your usual self. visibly, the media broke you and all he wanted was to put you back together. he would do anything to take your pain away right now and as you leaned into his chest, his drive intensified.

"hey, hey…look at me." ben brought his other hand to your face, gently but firmly.

as your eyes lifted to meet his, he noticed your gaze being a mixture of defiance and fragility. it was a look unique to you— he had never seen anything like it before.

"you know none of that is true, right? what they say about you, what they write��none of it matters. they’ll always find something to criticize." his voice was firm, he meant what he was saying.

he wished you could see yourself from his point of view. how amazing and capable you were in the midst of all this drama.

"you know why i love you?" he paused, his thumbs stroking your cheeks, "i love you because you’re caring and smart and beautiful, in every sense. and anybody can say whatever they want, but it won’t change a thing about how i feel."

and you started believing him. yes, it was true that ben was optimistic and that he couldn’t help but to see the good in people. however, he wouldn’t have stayed around this long if what he said wasn’t a tiny bit true. either way, it wasn’t in your nature to dwell on things. beast’s son, the embodiement of goodness, loved and believed in you. what more could you ask for?

finally, you smiled and ben pulled you into a hug. a few escaping tears stained his shirt but just like the press’ opinion, it didn’t matter. after a moment, you spoke up.

"i bet there was a thousand of cheesy things you said and i couldn’t even make fun of you for it." you said, your voice muffled by his shirt.

it was ben’s turn to smile. "there she is."

a dry laugh escaped your lips. you peeled yourself off of him as your eyes met his. "you’re crazy, you know that?"

as if he was fully aware of it, he smiled and pecked your lips lovingly.

"you don’t have to pretend to be anything, you know that right." ben gave you a pointed look, "not with me. if you don’t feel strong, it’s okay, let me be strong for you." he murmured, his eyes still locked on yours. you had a hard time hiding the grin that spread on your face.

you felt like a weight got lifted off your shoulders. you knew that the issues that came with the press wouldn’t get resolved overnight but for now, you had the strength to face them, knowing ben promised to always stand by your side.

he was right. you didn't need to be strong all the time. and you had never felt more lucky than to have a boyfriend like him.

#descendants #disney descendants #disney #descendants fandom #descendants imagine #ben florian #descendants x reader #king ben #disney channel #x you #ben florian imagine #king ben florian #ben beast x reader #ben x reader #descendants ben #king ben imagine #king ben x reader #ben descendants #ben florian x reader

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insomniac4000 · 2 months ago

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I love ur Chris fics!!

Pretty please can I have one of him being all nervous on a first date and trying to impress her and he thinks its gone badly but she texts him the next day and hes like all surprised? Thx

Thank you so much! :)

Here we go

Chris would be the first person to tell you he was no good at dating, he knew deep down that he was the main reason why a lot of his dates failed, he wanted to find love so badly but he was just… bad at it. Still he was a romantic at heart so he persisted with the apps, he had to believe the right person was still out there. He stared at his phone screen, his thumb hovering over the keyboard as he reread the last message from Y/N. They had been exchanging texts for days, a steady back-and-forth of witty banter and playful teasing. She was funny, quick with her comebacks, and surprisingly unimpressed by his YouTube career, which he found both refreshing and terrifying.

His stomach twisted with nerves as he typed, "How about drinks tomorrow? 7 PM?" and hit send before he could talk himself out of it.

Seconds later, the three little dots appeared. "Sounds good! See you then :)"

Chris exhaled. He was actually doing this.

The next evening, he arrived at the bar five minutes early, bouncing on the balls of his feet outside before forcing himself in. The low hum of conversation and clinking of glasses filled the space as he took a deep breath, scanning the room. Then he saw her.

Y/N was already at a table, scrolling on her phone. She looked up, met his gaze, and smiled. Chris felt his pulse speed up.

"Hey!" he greeted, perhaps a little too enthusiastically as he slid into the seat opposite her.

"Hey yourself," she replied with an amused smirk. "Early bird?"

"Oh, you know, just being punctual. Super responsible and all that," he said, reaching for the drink menu to hide his nerves.

They ordered their drinks, and as soon as they arrived, Chris took a deep breath. He wanted to be charming. He wanted to be cool. Instead, his mouth ran away from him, she asked him about his job and his mouth just went to overdrive,

"So, uh, yeah, football. It’s kind of my thing. I mean, not like pro-level, but I’m not bad. Actually, I’ve not long played at Wembley and honestly, it was insane. Scoring in front of 90,000 people in the UK’s most iconic pitch I mean come on. People were saying I could’ve gone pro if I hadn’t done YouTube. Well, maybe not pro, but, you know, pretty close…"

Y/N raised an eyebrow, sipping her drink. Chris caught himself rambling but couldn't seem to stop. "And, oh! There was this challenge video where I hit the crossbar from, like, halfway down the pitch. First try. Not saying I’m a genius, but…"

He trailed off, feeling the heat creeping up his neck. Y/N was still watching him, her expression unreadable. Was she bored? Annoyed? He cleared his throat. "Sorry, I—uh—I talk a lot when I'm nervous."

Y/N tilted her head. "You nervous?" she teased. "I never would've guessed."

Chris laughed, a little too loudly, and went to take a sip of his drink. Except his grip fumbled, and suddenly, the glass wobbled precariously. He lunged to steady it, knocking against the table in the process. A bit of liquid sloshed over the rim.

"Smooth," Y/N said, her lips twitching.

"I swear, I’m not usually this much of a mess," Chris groaned, setting the glass down carefully.

"You sure? Because I feel like you might have a whole highlight reel of awkward moments."

Chris buried his face in his hands. "You have no idea."

Surprisingly, Y/N just laughed. Not in a mocking way, but in a genuinely entertained way. He peered at her from behind his fingers.

"So, you’re saying if I Google 'ChrisMD awkward moments,' I’m in for a treat?"

Chris groaned. "Please don’t. The internet never forgets."

Y/N grinned. "Noted."

Trying to steer the conversation somewhere else, Chris found himself talking about the footballers he’d met and worked with. "It’s mad, really. I’ve played in videos with some proper legends—like I once did a challenge with Eden Hazard. Absolute wizard with the ball. And then there was Bukayo Saka—genuinely one of the nicest guys you’ll ever meet."

"That’s cool," Y/N said, seeming actually interested. "Do they ever give you tips?"

"Oh yeah. Some of them take it really seriously. I’ve filmed with Ronaldo too.

Y/N laughed. “Did you stumble this much with him too?” She asked, Chris laughed.

"Harsh but fair."

Chris could tell she was genuinely enjoying the stories, which made him feel slightly less like an idiot. The rest of the night went… not terribly. He still overtalked a little, still tripped over a few words, but somewhere in the midst of it, the nerves settled. Y/N was easy to talk to. She had stories of her own—about her terrible first job, the time she accidentally walked into a glass door in front of a packed restaurant, and her unexpected obsession with obscure trivia. Chris found himself genuinely laughing, which was a relief.

By the end of the night, they walked out together. "Well, thanks for, uh, tolerating my Ted Talk on my football greatness," Chris joked, scratching the back of his neck.

Y/N smirked. "I’ll be honest, I was expecting more of a sales pitch. 'Date me, and you get exclusive football lessons from a YouTube icon.'"

Chris groaned. "Great, next time I’ll bring a PowerPoint."

She chuckled. "Next time, huh?"

His heart stuttered. "I mean—if you want?"

Y/N just smiled. "Goodnight, Chris."

As she walked away, Chris started heading home, shoving his hands into his pockets. He replayed the night in his head and immediately winced. "Idiot. Absolute idiot. Why did I have to go on about Hazard and Saka? She probably thinks I’m a name-dropper. And the drink? Nearly spilling it like some nervous schoolboy? Brilliant, Chris. Just brilliant."

He kicked a stray stone down the pavement. "You had one job—be normal. And what did you do? Talk about your football achievements like you were on a press tour. I sounded like an overexcited fanboy listing my favourite players."

He groaned, tilting his head back to look up at the night sky. "She’s never texting me again. No chance. She probably thinks I talk about myself too much, and to be fair, she’d be right."

By the time he got home, he had convinced himself she wasn’t going to text him again. He flopped onto his bed with a groan, already bracing for the ghosting.

Then, his phone buzzed.

Y/N: Last night was fun. You free this weekend?

Chris blinked at the screen. He hadn’t ruined it? A grin stretched across his face as he quickly typed back.

Chris: Definitely. Let me know when.

Maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as bad at this dating thing as he thought.

#chrismd #chris dixon #chrismd x reader

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zeroseuniverse · 3 months ago

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ot9 been thinking how they would react when they find out you have been collecting their photocards/merch!

like this?? ZEROBASEONE Reacting to Finding Out You Secretly Collect Their Photocards & Merch

Jiwoong – Super Smug About It

Jiwoong immediately smirks. He lives for this. He picks up a photocard and dramatically flips his hair. “Ah, I see you have good taste.” He’ll tease you endlessly but secretly finds it the cutest thing ever. Expect him to start posing even harder in photoshoots now because he knows you’ll be collecting. He even sneaks signed photocards into your things with cheesy messages like “For my #1 fan ” just to make you blush.

Hanbin – Touched and Soft™

He discovers your collection by accident—maybe he’s looking for something and stumbles upon a whole binder dedicated to him. His eyes widen, and he just stands there, flipping through the pages, completely soft. When you walk in, he gives you the sweetest smile and says, “You really keep all of these? Wah… I feel so loved.” From then on, he personally helps you complete your collection, even slipping you unreleased selfies.

Hao – Softest Baby, Wants To Cry

Hao finds out when he notices a little photocard of him in your phone case. He picks it up and stares at it, completely frozen. “…You keep this with you?” His heart shatters (in a good way). He gets so soft about it, hugging you tightly and whispering, “You’re too cute… I don’t deserve you.” From that day on, he secretly adds extra special merch to your collection, always making sure you get the best of the best.

Matthew – Excited Puppy Mode Activated

The moment he sees your stash, he lets out a dramatic gasp and tackles you in a hug. “OH MY GOD, YOU’RE A TRUE FAN!” He immediately starts inspecting everything, holding up different photocards like, “Ooooh, this one is good! But this? This is peak boyfriend material.” He never stops teasing you about it but deep down, he’s so happy. “Wait, do you have the rare ones? If not, I got you.” Cue him flexing his own unreleased selfies like a proud puppy.

Taerae – Turns It Into a Concert Bit

Taerae is shook. He finds your photocard binder, flips through it with wide eyes, and then bursts out laughing. “You even have my awkward pre-debut ones? Wahhh, you’re really dedicated.” From then on, during concerts, he makes it his mission to point at you and say, “My biggest fan is here tonight!” The rest of ZB1 teases you both endlessly, but he just laughs and winks at you.

Ricky – Smirks, but He’s Dying Inside

He’s scrolling through your phone when he accidentally opens a photo album full of pictures of his photocards. He freezes. Oh. Oh. Instead of teasing you right away, he waits. Pretends he didn’t see. But later, when you least expect it, he casually asks, “So… who’s your favorite member?” When you start stuttering, he leans in, smirking. “Be honest.” You’re doomed. From now on, he’ll randomly pose like a photocard just to mess with you

Gyuvin – Absolutely LOSES IT

You thought you were being sneaky? Think again. Gyuvin walks into your room, sees a full-blown shrine dedicated to him, and screeches. “WAIT—IS THAT ME?!” He picks up a photocard and stares at it, then at you. He is so dramatic about it, holding his chest like he’s about to faint. But once he recovers, he starts taking selfies in the exact same poses as your photocards just to make you laugh. “Okay, but why didn’t you tell me?! I could’ve signed them for you!”

Gunwook – Blushy But Lowkey Loves It

When he finds out, his face turns bright red. He tries to act cool, but you can literally see his ears burning. He picks up a photocard, inspecting it like it’s an ancient artifact. “You… really collect these?” He gets super shy but also secretly proud that you love him that much. The next time he gets new merch, he lowkey sneaks an extra photocard into your bag. When you find it, he just shrugs, pretending like he doesn’t care. “What? It’s rare. Keep it.” But deep down, he’s absolutely melting.

Yujin – Short-Circuits

Poor baby is not ready for this. He walks into your room, sees a shelf full of his merch, and just stands there. Processing. Loading… “…That’s me.” His brain literally malfunctions. He gets so flustered he has to hide his face in his hands for a solid minute. But afterward, he shyly tugs on your sleeve and whispers,“…Can I sign one for you?”

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yakuza-emulation · 9 months ago

Text

Smile for the picture, boys!

(Click on the photo for better quality)

All featuring my versions of the tormentors! All of whom are “existing” characters that I repurposed because I thought it would be fun, and why not give some light to more of my favoured Fazbear Frights characters. (I might get flack for some of these from those who do like the characters, but I love them too!)

For more on that, check under the cut! :D

Foxy Bully, also known as Michael Afton

The tried and true FNAF guy, ‘twas his brother killed and his father who did the killing. Overall, it’s a decent way to view the story, and doesn’t make my head explode (like goddamn robot children). Furthermore, the Security Logbook has a section where you’re tasked remember as a child “what prizes would you want to see behind the prize counter”, and Mike draws himself with a mullet, tank-top, shorts, and bracelets. So that’s good enough for me lol

Bonnie Bully, also known as Oscar Avila

The first of the tormentors who is kinda out there! There is the popular theory that he is Jeremy Fitzgerald, considering FNAF’s obsession with Jeremy’s and bunny paraphernalia; but Oscar also has a relation to bunnies (Plushtrap chaser)! It kinda works, and the skin tone itself was inspired by @namedoggo ‘s version of Oscar (which is super cool, please check it out!)

I also like to think he is Cassie’s father, because it kinda checks out, but I’m deciding to be oblivious to other current revelations within the community.

Freddy Bully, aka Alec Renner

Speaking of revelations, this character is full of them! Freddy bully is such a hot topic because there are so many people he can be (Jeremy Fitzgerald, Mr. Renner (Tales from the Pizzaplex), Oswald’s Dad), but I thought Alec would be a cool idea because of the whole Lonely Freddy Bodyswap occurrence and that he canonically favours Yarg Foxy. Furthermore, this was kinda tail-ended by the Ao3 fic, “I am Machine” by Hideaway_In_The_Imagination_World or @hideawaysplace on Tumblr. Wherein which Alec was friends with Oscar in the past.

I kinda also tied in Mr. Renner with Alec’s last name (because he doesn’t have one. It made me frustrated for a while), because in Tales from the Pizzaplex, the elementary principal is described as having a Freddy mask and his eyes leak oil? (I don’t actually have the tales books yet, I’m waiting until the box set releases until I get it. So all my info on this guy is limited to the several fandom wikis)

I don’t really want to tie in Oswald’s father, but Alec does have a sister, so Hazel could have the mask? Or Oswald’s dad could’ve just won it as a prize, not everyone who has a mask has to be the bully themself. (Which is ironic for Mr. Renner, but eh.))

Chica Bully, aka Sam O’Neil

Probably the most out there, but this character is practically never talked about with fan theories (for gods sake, literally everyone else in the squad has been theorized to be Jeremy Fitzgerald at some point (including fucking Michael at one point because of his multiple aliases), EXCEPT FOR HIM..?). Furthermore, it was kinda difficult to pick a good character for him, as I wanted to make it so the tormentors have some relation to the character they had the mask of. I really enjoyed Blackbird when I read it, and when I read it the first time, I thought Sam admitted to actually being a bully years before the story itself (he just got back at bullies, but the point still stands). Regardless, why not :)

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m1lkywaywritey · 24 days ago

Text

Forgive me

Relationship: Priest Gerard way x afab reader

Tags: smut, priest kink, first time, making out, moaning, dirty talk, hand jobs, semi-public sex, love bites, Catholic guilt, fingering if you squint, SHAMEEE, using the Lords name in vain, a little bit of angst?, calling him father (sexually), unprotected sex, corruption kink?, nipple stuff

Summary: Y/n has been having some unholy thoughts since befriending and crushing on her priest, so she decides to go confess and uuhhh things don't exactly go as planned...

A/N: HELLO I FINALLY FINISHED IT! i just wanna preface this with the fact that i dont know JACK SHIT about churches or priests or anything of the sort. Therefore if i fuck something up or its super inaccurate THEN IM SORRY!!!!! also this isnt proofread lol sorry

Word count: 3344

Fic under cut - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You weren’t too sure whether you bought religion all too much but there was one thing that kept you going back to church (no, not the catholic guilt.) The super hot priest leading all the services of course.

You knew that practically and realistically nothing would ever happen, but what was the harm in a little eye candy for you on a Sunday. Aside from his great looks, he was genuinely a great guy - you had spoken to him after mass once and from then on the two of you got to know each other, becoming good friends. He was younger than most priests so he was easy to talk to and his name was Gerard.

To you he was perfect: funny, kind and totally sexy - if you were ignoring the elephant in the room. You knew priests didn’t have relationships - you knew they didn’t have sex, but that wasn’t enough to discourage the little crush on him you could feel forming. Maybe you were being deluded but you could’ve sworn he felt something too. You felt it in the eye contact he held for just a few moments too long every time and in his unprompted invitations for coffee together and how he blushed slightly when he asked you. Of course you had to wake yourself up from all that - he’s just being kind and welcoming, that’s basically half his job.

Lately however, you had been struggling to repress these thoughts about him - in fact they had been getting worse (and far more sexual) by the day. It was getting out of hand so you decided you needed to confess. To Gerard or to God? You hadn’t quite figured that out yet.

It was late on a Friday night when you pulled up outside the church, you knew Gerard would be there - he always was around this time. You didn’t exactly know what he did in his alone time but you assumed it consisted of sitting in the pews, contemplating and admiring the grand stained glass windows. You were surprised, however, to find him up on the sanctuary leaning on the altar. He was facing the cross but he had his head hung low, hair cascading over his face. He didn’t notice you come in, so when you walked over and said his name it startled him slightly as he whipped around to face you.

“Oh hey y/n! I- uh- I didn’t expect you here, whats the matter?” He exclaimed - still a little shaken from your mini jump-scare. You noticed he was acting a little off - he was avoiding eye contact, nervously pushing back his hair and you could’ve sworn he was blushing (but in the dim light of the church it was hard to tell.) It felt like you had caught him doing something he didn’t want you to know about.

“Are you okay?” You asked, ignoring his question due to your concerns.

“Yeah,yeah I’m fine, you just caught me in the middle of my confession that’s all. Uhh what are you here for?”

“Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’m here to confess something too actually”

“Cool, do you wanna go into the-“ He lifted his hand to gesture towards the confessional before you cut him off.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” You blurted out without even thinking. Gerard stopped dead in his tracks. He began stuttering and stumbling over his words (if you could even class it as words they were so broken). Naturally, you did the only thing you could think of to shut him up…

You stepped towards him and kissed him on the lips. You weren’t expecting that kind of confession from yourself and judging by his wide eyes and slack jaw, neither was he. Despite the shock of what you did, you both stayed deathly still, searching for answers in eachothers eyes. Nothing but the sound of your breaths filled the church but with the shame you felt, you could’ve screamed.

“Im so sorry, I should just go-“ you were actively turning to leave when Gerard cut you off.

“I can’t stop thinking about you either” he whispered, putting his hands on your waist to stop you from leaving - his grip was light and hesitant but firm enough to keep you in place. He couldn’t quite believe what he was doing, he knew the rules and he’d never even thought about going against them until you. You were worth it to him. “What do you think I was confessing hm? Every time I see you I just wanna give up my chastity right there and then. You don’t know what you fucking do to me.” By the end of his sentence his whispers had morphed into a low growl, you’d never heard him curse like that and god was it hot. He had broken eye contact and hung his head in shame of his dirty confession. You lifted his chin with your index finger so you could stare deeply into his eyes once more.

“Please Father...” You spoke in a hushed whisper, gazing up at him through your lashes. His eyes widened slightly, and only momentarily, but just enough for you to catch the look in his eyes. Contained in that one subconscious movement, you saw the sinful cocktail of horror and lust that filled him. You could tell he’d had some sort of realisation but you couldn’t place what it could be.

Oh-

Calling him father turned him on.

Time stood still, seconds felt like years, both of you too scared to move and lose this tension. Deep down, you knew it was wrong - and so did he - but in this moment you didn’t want to accidentally come to your senses. As more and more of these weighted seconds passed, your faces drew closer and closer as if there was a cosmic pull between you. Breathing gradually becoming faster and heavier with silence growing louder, you could hardly contain your unholy thoughts. One in particular making your breath hitch at the mere idea - finally breaking the ever-growing tension.

Suddenly, Gerard’s hands flew from your sides up to your face - lips crashing into yours with unbearable desperation. It was like he had never touched anyone like this before in his life - because he hadn’t. His grip on your face was strong like he was trying to drink every inch of you before he died of thirst. The kiss was messy and untamed, inexperienced too but far more passionate than you’d had before. He wasn’t shy to let his tongue roam around your mouth, his eyes scrunched tightly shut as if trying not to wake up from this dream he was living. Trying not to remember where and who he was. In that moment all he knew was you.

Gerard was clearly not holding back - letting out any moans, whimpers and groans that threatened to emerge from his throat like a horny teenage boy. He had gotten a taste of you and he wasn’t going to stop there. From a priest, you had expected a soft, gentle, caring touch much like his regular demeanour. This was far from that. He was filled with pure, pent up, desperation. The fact he was doing it with you - the girl he had not long ago repented for all his unholy thoughts about - only fuelled his loving lust further.

Gerard’s hands slid back down towards your waist - this time with no reminiscence of his former hesitance - digging his fingers into your flesh and pulling you impossibly close. The force making you hum a moan into his lips, only causing him to groan louder and grip you tighter. You were sure it would leave a mark. With your new proximity you could feel the outline of his erection against your pelvis. You started to grind against him, subtly trying to gauge his size.

Fuck.

You let out a whimpering moan. You weren’t sure if you could even take him but you knew you needed it. Now. You broke the kiss to speak “Please- “ drunk on your lips Gerard pulled you back into the kiss almost immediately and you chuckled at his impatience. “Please- “ you broke out again but Gerard insisted on kissing you between every word.

“Touch- Me- Father- “ you managed to get out between kisses - using his title again because you loved what it did to him. He spun you both around so you were leaning slightly on the altar for support. He didn’t seem to notice as he was so occupied on you, but to you being on the altar felt so wrong it was perfect. Just like every corruption fantasy you’d ever had about Gerard - practically defiling the altar felt so erotic and leaving your mark on his swollen lips turned you on more than you could tell. He began to move his kisses to your jaw, pecking all the way up to your ear, inhaling sharply through his nose, taking in your scent.

“God I’ve been thinking about you like the for so long” Despite everything he had already gone against this evening, his blasphemy still caught you off guard. Things had changed so quickly and you were scared he was acting off of impulse rather than true desire.

“Gerard- Ah- Are you sure?” His only response to your question was a series of hums of agreement and arousal, sucking a spot below your ear that made your whole body tingle. “Gerard-“ you continued, trying to be considerate but being cut off by your own moans. Gerard didn’t seem to share your concern, muffled an against your skin he began to speak.

He placed a sloppy kiss in between your collarbones and you felt a shift in his demeanour. He brought his head up to rest his forehead on yours. There was a quiet moment, both of you allowing your breathing to slow, occasionally syncing up and breathing rhythmically together. “Can I… Can I take this off you?” He somewhat nervously tugged at the hem of your shirt. His words were cautious - nervous even - you remembered that this wasn’t just his first time, he was going against the thing he built his life around for you.

“Call me father.” If you weren’t soaking wet already, that sure would’ve done it. The last inkling of hesitation from within you was long gone with his request and you threw your head back finally letting go - calling out his title just as he had requested. With your head back Gerard had access to whole new areas of your neck and collarbones. You were leaning back on one hand so you brought the other up to rake through his hair, encouraging his kisses and pulling him closer - much to his liking. You let out a gasping moan as he sucked a sweet spot - there was no way all these hickeys were going anywhere anytime soon but you were far too aroused to think about what people would think about you here on Sunday.

“Please” you said reassuringly running your hands through his hair and pulling him in for one more kiss before his hands snaked under your top. He pulled his head away from yours for what felt like the first time in years and lifted the top over your head - tossing the garment into the pews of the church. He took a moment ogling at the sheer sight of your body. Admiring it and committing every small detail to memory. He reached out to rake his hands up your sides then over your boobs.

He reached behind you, struggling to unclasp your bra - you let out a small giggle and helped him out, pulling it off and leaving you fully exposed in the cold church air. The chill that caused your nipples to harden was short lived as Gerard took one nipple sloppily into his warm, wet mouth. If you thought he couldn’t moan any more than he already had, you were dead wrong. The way he was getting off on worshipping your body could’ve made you finish right then. He used one hand to grope your other breast, occasionally squeezing and stimulating your nipple. His other hand rested on the small of your back, keeping you steady. Strings of moans escaped your mouth, for someone with absolutely no experience, he caught on very quickly how to please you.

While he was occupied you took the opportunity to remove your trousers and shift to sit fully on the altar. You gently gripped Gerard’s wrist and guided his hand from the small of your back, down towards your pussy. With only your underwear as a barrier, Gerard palmed you through them. He broke his contact with your boob to stare down at the mess you had made of your underwear, soaking was an understatement. Pupils blown wide; whimpering breaths; jaw hanging open - maybe he was a bigger mess than you were.

“Fuck your so wet” He groaned as he continued to feel you through your soaked pants, his middle finger occasionally running right along your slit giving your clit a taste of some much needed friction. Gerards eyes flicked up and down almost rapidly - unsure whether to look down there or up at your face contorting with pleasure as he grazed over your sweet spot. Wherever he was looking, he was taking in and analysing your reactions to quickly learn what made you tick.

“Please father, I need you” You said, getting a little impatient with all Gerard’s teasing. He wanted to give you what you wanted and started to unbutton his shirt. That was before you grabbed his wrist to stop him. “No! Keep that on… I like it” You said, giving him a faux-innocent look and hooking your finger over his clerical collar, hoping he’d get the memo.

“Was that your plan all along?” He asked teasingly, reaching down to unbuckle his belt instead. “Did you come here just to fuck your priest hm?” You were absolutely stunned by his questions. Your jaw dropped and you nodded hesitantly. “You’re so fucking dirty” He said huskily, finally letting his cock spring free from his boxers. You were in complete awe of his size and you practically moaned at the sight- you thought about what a waste it was for him to be celibate with a dick like that, well not anymore you supposed.

His dick was so hard it almost looked painful, it was completely flushed with the tip even more so and he already had beads of precum rolling down his length (you also spotted a wet patch on his boxers from it.) You reached out to touch him, going gently at first, and he hissed at the contact. You pumped your hand up and down a few more times, falling into a steady rhythm making Gerard’s head fall back. With his head back like that, you could see his slight stubble and you wanted absolutely nothing more than to mark him up with some pretty lovebites that he’d struggle to hide tomorrow. You decided against it but still planted some lighter kisses on his neck.

Gerards moans were becoming increasingly loud and more frequent and just then he gripped your wrist to stop your rhythm. “Fuck-“ He whimpered trying to catch his breath. “Let me fuck you.”

“Please” you whined in response. Gerard hooked his finger around your underwear, pulling them to the side. “Forgive me” he whispers so quietly you barely caught it, before he lined himself up and plunged into you. Both of you groaned at the new sensation. He was still for a moment, letting you adjust to his size as you clenched around him. Eventually, he drew back for the first time and pushed back in. You could never even describe the pleasure it brought you - even at the achingly slow pace he started at.

With each slow thrust, whimpers escaped his throat - they morphed into whines as he gradually sped up. You couldn’t tell if he was gaining confidence in his movements or just speeding up out of bare desperation. Every time he grazed the sweet spot that made you clench around him, he strived harder to hit it again - the added stimulation driving him crazy. You made an effort to hold eye contact with him, watching his face contort with pleasure he’d never felt before could’ve made you orgasm right then. You felt fucking incredible but you need just a little more.

“Fast- fuck- Faster Father” you moaned out, mouth agape staring into his blown pupils. Gerard obliged, hooking his arms around your thighs - he did it with the intention of keeping you steady, but what it did was create a whole new angle into of you. Each roll of his hips felt about ten times better, he was hitting all the right places at just the right speed. The altar was now creaking loudly beneath you, reminding you of where you were (which honestly only spurred you on.)

With the new angle and speed you could feel your core tightening - climax growing closer. You leaned in, capturing his lips in another messy and untamed kiss. Your walls squeezed tighter around him, practically milking him at this point. You slipped your hand between the two of you to stroke circles on your clit and you noticed every few thrusts Gerard’s hips would falter slightly - he was getting close too.

With your fingers on your clit, his dick deep inside of you and the thought of how wrong this was, your orgasm crashed over you in a wave. Your screams of pleasure funnelled straight into his mouth. Gerard was still pushing into you, chasing his own orgasm. Your pussy spasmed around him and his hips stuttered.

“Fuck somethings happening- I- Oh my god- Where do I-“ Gerards words spilled out. It was such a foreign feeling to him and he had never felt better.

“Cum in me Father” you whined out, still in the aftershocks of your orgasm - overstimulated and almost hazy. Gerard complied moaning and whining, his thrusts had almost no rhythm now as you felt ropes of his white, hot cum spill into you. “Oh, God.” He moaned out as he filled you with the last of his cum. Was he talking to you or god? You couldn’t quite tell.

Both of you were spent, coming down from your peaks and you rested your heads on each other’s shoulders - him still inside of you. The room felt eerily quiet without the sounds of sex - just the same heavy breathing this all started with. After about a minute he pulled out (eliciting one last groan from the both of you), tucked himself back into his boxers and did up his belt. He turned to walk away and you were scared for a second that he was leaving but he went to retrieve your clothes that were carelessly discarded into the pews. He cleaned you up and helped you get dressed, neither of you said a word.

You felt so guilty, sure the thought of corrupting him like that was what turned you on in the moment, but now - even after he had broken his celibacy for you - he was taking the time to make sure you were clean, dressed and okay. It just reminded you why you liked him, he was genuinely a great guy, he never had bad intentions and he was so caring. You were sure you’d never be able to see him again after this and just the thought upset you.

He had an almost sorrowful, clearly pensive, look on his face - probably trying to figure out what’s gonna happen now. Ideally he would just repent and break contact with you, but could he really give you up now? After he got exactly what he’s been dreaming about? He really wasn’t sure.

You decided you needed to break this silence you were sat in, once you were dressed, you got to your feet and looked up into his eyes. “What do we do now?” You asked - almost tearing up a little.

“I- I don’t know”

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A/N: thanks so much for reading! please let me know what you thought + if I made any mistakes :p

#m1lkyway fics #this is also up on ao3!#gerard way x reader #gerard way fanfiction #priest gerard #mcr fanfiction #fan fic writing #ao3 #mcr #gerard way #my chemical romance

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