#i think i just wanted to hear them affirm their love and be close and like tell eachother how much they meant idk idk jsut sweet lovey dovey

[vitaminseetarot]

Pick-a-Carp: REM - Random Emerging Messages (From Your Dreams) 🐠🌑🔮

*･ﾟ✧Masterlist | *･ﾟ✧Ko-Fi

Sup y'all, it's time for another pick a card reading! I have always enjoyed dream interpretation, long before I discovered tarot. Amazing insights and revelations have come through by understanding dreams, at times being more predictive than waking signs. Although it can be hard to be really into dream interpretation when I can't remember most of mine upon waking. 😅

So for this Pisces New Moon, this reading will look into what kind of dreams you may be having and the messages they're trying to tell you. We have many dreams at night we don't remember, so this reading will take a deep dive into those hazier ones into account as well as the more significant dreams. Pick any one of the three beautiful koi fish varieties:

1 - Asagi - Blue/Silver 💙 2 - Showa - Black/White 🖤 3 - Utsuri - Orange/Black 🧡

Pile 1 - Asagi 💙

4 of Cups, Queen of Swords, XVII Star, 10 of Pentacles; Full Moon Sagittarius, 3 of Prisms, 3. In the Light of the Moon, Spider, Self-Care

Hi pile 1,

Your dreams focus mainly on the past. You may be having rather realistic dreams of situations that have already happened. There is a skeleton key present in these dreams in order to unlock a passage. This dream must be processed to clear old stuck energy that's keeping the conscious mind tied back. It may require seeing things from a different angle or point of view, or looking at the dream in a new light. This dream may be annoyingly repetitive but it's not without purpose. The message is relentless for you to receive it, so it uses the same dream or similar set-up to stay direct. Like solving a long tricky math problem on a practice test.

This dream may likely involve family members or close friend groups. You may relive confrontations you've had with them previously, or dream that you're getting into conflict with those you are otherwise on good terms with. You may get emotionally meshed with others' energies which appear in your dreams as a bigger tide in your imagery (they may even appear taller in dreams). It's important to apply clear judgement when it comes to these scenarios. Having a bad dream where a good friend cheats or fights with you is trying to help you understand how your emotions contribute to relationships; it's not a reflection of the actual state of the relationship. So this friend may be testing boundaries from within the safe confines of your dreams so you can figure out how to respond to such situations. In waking life, pile 1, you may need to review how you see your individual self as distinct from your community. Your dreams want you to center and reclaim your mind and boundaries so these scenarios can't phase you or your future decisions, because no, it doesn't have to happen like last time.

Your dreams show you are a caring person with great regard for your community's well being. With Spider, I think of the web, so this could be an online community or just one that feels tied together as a unit. This could also represent a large work environment where you collaborate with many people. Despite this, the Spider is largely an solitary being. These dreams could have people trying to call you, or talk to you, even if you're not able to hear what they're saying. Your reverie is swimming with their collective energy, but in doing so is also asking you to instead look towards yourself for insight. Let's say you have a reoccurring dream where a love interest keeps blasting your phone but for some reason you can't answer it, or the phone dies as you answer it. Consider what you would want the person on the other line to say ("I think you're really cute"), then ask if these are affirmations you can give to yourself now ("I think I'm really cute"). The Star card says you can provide yourself with the positive feeling you may be seeking in your dreams. They're wanting you to come back to yourself and stand on your own two fins--er, feet.

Dream Symbols: Outer Space, Light, Family Gatherings, Foreign Lands or Languages, Clothing, Groups of 3 or the Number 3

Pile 2 - Showa 🖤

6 of Wands, X Wheel of Fortune, 8 of Wands, Ace of Pentacles; Void-of-Course Moon, 5 of Relics, 42. Gentle Moderation, Butterfly, Take Charge

Hey pile 2!

Regular, practical matters seem to be the main concern here. This could be your physical body, housing, work, or your finances. The symbols in your dreams represent everyday worries like running errands. However, the dreams that start out as casual can quickly become unstable or chaotic. Grand plans like an expensive flight could be made only to suddenly cancel, or you may have dreams of getting lost and struggling to find directions only for the scenery to constantly morph itself around. Each scene may wildly change the circumstances and elevate activity in sleep. Emphasis is placed here on releasing your worries. Occasionally, they may be pointing out certain stressors or physical issues in the body. Overall, there is a need to take control of your circumstances as the captain of your ship, and you may find that with more time and awareness, you can tap into lucid dreams.

Out of all piles, your dreams likely make the least amount of sense. It could involve a lot of sudden frenzy or inexplicable changes, like seeing strangers turn into floating pumpkins or going to a doctor's clinic only to find that you are the doctor. I feel this is because you normally have your head on your shoulders in your waking life, and you may come across to others as steady and dependable. So when things go awry in sleep, these elements force you out of your comfort zone to showcase how you would react to a variety of scenarios. Many of these dreams come as a direct result of an every day worry and can be interpreted in a straight forward way, despite the seeming randomness. Going to the library to drop off a book that turns to glittery bats when you pull it out of your bag, for example, may simply be reminding you of a library book that's actually due.

You have the 6 of Wands, here, so it looks as though the events your dreams are based from largely resolve themselves even if it can stir you up in your sleep. Many of these things are fated to happen anyway, so there's no need to fret about them, and in fact worrying and overthinking may make the situation worse. So if you have an embarrassing dream about a job interview, it could be a reminder to practice answering questions beforehand. There's a good chance you will still do well at the interview as your dreams are helping you to see that you can handle any sudden disruption in plans and see your goals through. The caterpillar is destined to change into a butterfly no matter what, so it's okay if it has dreams that the cocoon string doesn't come out right or the wings look strange. It's all part of adjusting to big changes in life. The important thing is to not rush into doing something out of worry and to work at a steady pace. Remember that no matter how weird or utterly out there your dreams get, you're at the helm and with practice, you can decide how the dream ends.

Dream Symbols: Theater, Driving, Shapeshifting, Magic Wands, Flight, Maps or Compasses

Pile 3 - Utsuri 🧡 (cw blood imagery & brief mention of trauma)

V Hierophant, 10 of Swords, 9 of Wands, 9 of Swords; Full Moon in Cancer, 2 of Prisms, 41. Convey Your Meaning, Crystal, Eternity

Hello, pile 3.

I see the main theme in your sleep could involve reconciliation with a loved one. You may have a lot of one-on-one dreams involving confrontations and heated discussions. There could be a lot of miscommunication, a struggle to speak, or an inability to get one's point across in the dream. Words which ache inside your throat in waking life can finally burst within your dreams, words which you may have held onto for perhaps years. Your dreams are a place to bring out and vent what is difficult or even impossible to manage while awake. Your mind is seeking to let go of a major issue to achieve peace. If these really are words you wish to let out, I recommend both a dream journal to document what's being said along with a regular journal to help you air out things that will otherwise filter into your sleep.

For a few of you, the dreams may recall a painful encounter or event in the past, which can feel mocking when it comes back around, as though it can disappear for a long while only to suddenly reappear at the most unusual time. Let's say the trauma involved a bicycle accident: the accident may appear in different forms, like the bike turning into a helicopter, but with the same emotional response. You may think, "that was almost a decade ago, why am I still dreaming about this?" This is due to having a more emotionally detached state while in the dream world, allowing a more introspective consciousness to come through. Ultimately, with the 10 of Swords, it's helping you process it through so it doesn't overwhelm you while you're living your life. Your mind is slowly healing itself by "analyzing" these dreams like an audience member watching a movie to help you feel safe in your skin upon waking.

You may feel interested in checking out pile 1 too because I also see repetitive dreams in here. Only in this case it may not always be a dream based exactly on reliving a memory, but rather different scenes that involve the same core lesson or emotion in every one. You may even have a sequential dream that ends and restarts itself like a chapter in a book, or experience nested dreams in which you wake up to the alarm only to still be dreaming, which could create déjà vu. This is to help you gradually learn from past turmoils and errors while freely letting go of past hangups. Your dreams do not show you these visions to scare or frustrate you, but to build the pieces together to create a more unified psyche. They're breaking up old crystallized patterns of thought so the shadow isn't lurking over you like the volcano in the 9 of Wands. It's building the new staircase to your personal freedom by allowing you the opportunity to rewrite the scenario as you see fit. How different would the same dream feel with just one little detail rearranged? Try to imagine how it would feel if the bicycle turned into a Pegasus and allowed you to soar high.

Dream Symbols: Warm Tones, School, House, Library, Spirals, Gates

This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.

2025, @VitaminseeTarot ™

[thatfrailsoul]

– And I don't want your pity, I just want somebody near me

Divinatory jukebox : "Nobody", by Mitski

tarot pick a pile reading → one, two, three

It really does feel like gambling. The people, the connections, the bonds between us. The search for the right moments, right ways, right rhythms… that takes all the attention, all the feelings, leaving the bits of relationships that we manage to create to be just a mirage. A fever dream we go through with so many complications, anxiety, doubts and fears. Rushing us to the ending, to those cold goodbyes full of tears. And the only thing remaining is to wonder. Did we really experience it? Was it really possible for something like this to happen to begin with? And will this fate chase us down again, forcing us to relive it?

Connections are never easy to begin with. There are too many details and requirements, too much of that complex and at times frustrating humanity in them. Too many to make it work as easily… But we don't help ourselves either. Our mind, our judgement, our anger and frustration that are so easily thrown right back at us, at our own actions and decisions. The answers and explanations that we don't want to hear. The feelings that we don't want to feel because of the fear that it will make it all too real…

This reading is that one message that you are not reading, pretending that you never received it. That truth, that motive or the explanation, that you don't want to make yours. Something that you need to accept, to keep in mind, to learn or do… Something that this world is trying to tell you, with your whole castle of walls around you, hoping that you will allow it to come through. Hoping that you will take a moment to stay in silence and breathe. Listening to your inner voice, that will guide you to that one pile that hides your message in it.

{ Follow me for more readings, reblog or let me know in the comments which pile you chose - I'm really curious.♡ }

P.s. A little question for you ♡

– Pile One,

the clouds: the queen of cups and the knight of wands

picture from → pinterest

Your way of feeling, of loving… of showing it, never was the problem. It never depended on how much you changed for someone, or how much you embraced your own true self. It never was important that you did it for them, how you did it, even if they claimed that it was everything. It never really made any difference, not when all that you did and tried was something that they expected from someone else... Yes, every single one of them.

Every person, every relationship, every connection that faded right before your eyes... They said they wanted it all from you, not realising that they needed it from themselves. Because we do project, we do confuse the things, we do misunderstand the reason behind what we feel. And we almost never admit it, never think that it is only something ours. We cry at what we don't receive from others, what we don't find, what we don't feel. But in reality is at us that we are screaming, not understanding how is it possible that someone that is supposed to genuinely and unconditionally love us, can’t simply make us feel safe and enough within, to the point that we need to seek it in others, begging for it…

But, ironically enough, this story is not about you. You were only the witness of it, again and again, so many times in all these years. You were the person that was used as a mirror, condemned to listen to so many tones in their voices, to see so many contrasting emotions on their faces, thinking that they were looking at you, but not realising that they weren't really seeing you, that they weren't talking to you.

And amidst all of it, you hid yourself. You closed up. Seeking that moment of silence and apparent calm, that space to reflect and think. You tried to understand, to really listen to all those words that are still right here in your mind, hurting you every time you thought you forgot them. You looked for that truth, for that explanation on what you really did wrong, how it could've happen so many times, in so many different situations, with so many different people across the time. But you never found it. So, in doubt, you just chose to never really come back. To not expose your apparently dangerous self to all those innocent souls. To not express your feelings, not through actions nor words, just to not burden them all. Those poor ones that might be forced to endure your wrong type of love.

But it is ridiculous. You don't have so much power over others. No one has such power, except when it is used on our own selves. You can’t be possibly the reason of every disgrace or conflict. And you know it. You are just not able to remind it to yourself, being under all the garbage of their own internal problems that they throw at you without any shame.

It is indeed a too much of a coincidence that it happened so many times with so many different people. But you are not the one that connects them. Or to be exact, not in a way that you convinced yourself you do.

Your love, your ways, just who you are, are not the ones to cause so much distress and pain, you are not the one to broke them down, to destroy their walls and stab them. You are just someone who has a gentle and tender enough way to make them all feel safe. Safe to get closer. Safe to trust. Safe to open up more and more, without realising that all that they were ignoring and bottling down up until now, will simply explode, reversing all their anger on those that are with them, on those that care and want to help them.

You are just that kind, that understanding and patient. Enough to assure others that you won't allow anyone to hurt them so much. That you won’t allow even your own hands to scratch them, always ready to correct yourself and change just to protect their heart. But you can’t always do it. You can’t heal the wounds that they themselves are opening up. You can’t find a cure for an illness that they themselves aren't aware of where it is coming from. You can’t understand it yourself, and then make them understand that you are not the one that they are resenting so much. Not when you both are so resilient in not accepting it.

It is a heavy fate, the one of making others feel so accepted and safe that they don't hold anything back, not even things that have nothing to do with you and what you can make work… But it is not a reason to hide yourself. To keep you in the shadows, never again crossing other paths. It is not your fault that you love strongly and sincerely enough to make others want to escape their traumas, their pains and fears, just for a chance to feel and see this world the same way you did. And it is not your responsibility, the fact that they don't know how to control it, how to sort all of it, once it crashes down upon them.

The only thing you do is love. In all the ways and forms. All you do is being caring, understanding, open… So why would you change it when they see it as something else, as too much or not enough, just because it is different from the love they got used to? Let them go, let them pass by, if they can’t feel satisfied, if they want more as soon as you are willing to give them what others never wanted. But don't do so convinced of the fact that there won’t be someone that will see in you enough. Someone that would feel the same and express it in the same way. Someone that will find you, as soon as you make a step out of the punishment of loneliness that you put yourself in.

P.s. I opened a newsletter! Now you can find my readings and guidance right in your inbox. And, if you enjoy my work, it is a great opportunity to create a connection and community that is not limited to tumblr, but can be able to survive any ups and downs of platforms and times. So, if you would like to subscribe, you can do so completely for free right here.↓

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– Pile Two,

the birds: the king of cups and the two of cups

picture from → pinterest

You crave them, those feelings. The understanding, the acceptance, the complicity, the intimacy… And yet you force yourself to stop before, every single time you catch a glimpse of it, of the possibility to have it.

Can it be called self sabotage? Self defence? Trauma? Perhaps. But at its core is only the uncertainty of what it will lead to. The wander about whether you will truly find someone that understands you, if they will be really so aligned with you like it seems to? If their thoughts will follow the same flow of energy… Or if their mask of appearance will come down, revealing a wolf in the sheep’s skin, ready to devour you and your every feeling.

It just seems to you like a promise of a heartbreak, long before even connecting. All the time spent together, the little moments that were created, every shy way to get to know each other better… only for them to become someone you need to escape from. It doesn't seem worth it, it doesn't seem safe. It feels just like another losing game destined to leave you feeling played.

But… what else can be a stronger protective or revealing spell than our own words? What else can really shows us who we are and who is standing in front of us? What can be powerful and intimate enough to guide us right to others people core, to their soul, overcoming every obstacle they put in front just to protect themselves from others? And how else someone could ever find us, recognise us, without never listening to the voice of our heart, without seeing what our mind hides?

It is a risk, it is a long and intimidating chess game. But it is not at all worthless, not when it gives you a chance to know your opponent. Perhaps discovering that they are not playing to make you lose in your battle, but only to have a chance to be beside you, to get close to you, through a dance of lunges and parries, until one of you loses all the armour and weapons, remaining vulnerable in front of the other… and seeing in their gaze only admiration and the desire to hold your hand to help you get up stronger.

You are protecting yourself, hiding, making silent and fast steps in the shadows, hoping that no one will notice you, no one will reach out for you and pull you right under the painfully strong and inquisitive light. But while containing your breath, feeling that you only want to come back to your own safe bubble... you also, sometimes, slow down and stutter. When you see someone so bright that it is impossible to not cling to them with your eyes. Someone with a voice so sweet, a laughter so genuinely joyful and free, that you keep hearing them inside your mind for days to come, unable to forget what it sounded like. Someone so caring, so gentle and delicate in their ways, that you can't help but observe them from your hiding spot, admiring them like an angel that somehow survived amidst these mean and angry souls. You still do it, even if you tell yourself that it doesn't matter, that it doesn't mean anything because you will never again come out and get closer to them. You still do it, even if later you tell yourself that it was probably all false, a well played role in this life’s theatre. You still admire them, the people. Their ways, their character, their interests. You still feel that desire to come closer, to see their eyes and the whole universes inside them.

So why don't you just do it? Why don't you let yourself free from this cage that you put yourself in, convinced that it would protect you? Why don't you just connect, not for the future, not for a chance, not for the outcome… but only for that single moment? Because connection is not only about the bonds we create, the relationships that we later have. It is not only about if one thing was true or a lie, a promise or a betrayal to our heart. It is also that one moment, that one second, in which you feel that admiration, that excitement, that desire for more. It is that complicity, those smiles, those bright and joyful eyes. It is that interest, or attraction, or even playfulness caused by all the outcomes that those moments can create and make possible now, make them real.

You are not only protecting yourself from the worst, the most dangerous, the most painful moments… but from those that can make you feel safe and whole too. Those that could teach you, inspire you, guide you. Those that could bring those emotions and colours to a life that is now becoming a little too silent, too heavy in the emptiness they are forcing on your heart.

Make that step forward, allow others to see you, to hear you. Allow them to get to know you as you connect with them. Not just for those relationships that you could create and that already overwhelm your mind with all the things you should fear and worry about… But for you two. Those versions of you and them in this exact moment, so innocent and genuine. That don't have any fault. That didn't yet do anything bad, if not feeling called by another soul.

P.s. I opened a newsletter! Now you can find my readings and guidance right in your inbox. And, if you enjoy my work, it is a great opportunity to create a connection and community that is not limited to tumblr, but can be able to survive any ups and downs of platforms and times. So, if you would like to subscribe, you can do so completely for free right here.↓

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– Pile Three,

the birds: the eight of coins and the seven of wands

picture from → pinterest

You welcomed them in. Every single one of them. So many souls that you courageously connected with. So many minds that you genuinely understood. So many hearts that you devotedly took care of… No matter what it took, no matter how difficult at times it was. How often you felt torn apart, consumed, by their lives and stories, remaining with so little patience, strength and courage to take care of yourself, of your days and journeys…

There wasn't anything that was too hard, too much to do for them. There wasn't anyone that didn't deserve more attention, more patience, even as you were bleeding because of them. It felt as normal and necessary as breathing, to take care of them, to defend them… even from your own self, when their voices raised in accusation of your love being too suffocating, your desire to help and care, too much.

One after another they changed their mind, their appreciation, their gratefulness for what you did for them, for your way to be and care… And from being cherished and known as someone who is just so caring and loving, one day, you became someone who no one wanted anymore, not so close to them.

They knew better, they were doing everything right, and your suggestions or worries weren't anymore so needed, they became advices no one asked and apprehension no one wanted to be the focus of. They all became mature, independent, and strong enough to face this world on their own. Forgetting thanks to whom they were able to grow and learn so much, who was there by their side every time they'd fall, even if it was difficult for your own self to stand tall as you were holding them.

And while you couldn't force yourself to be angry at their confidence and growth, you also couldn't ignore the fact that it wasn't only this, there was annoyance and resentment too… for the aspects and ways of you that they used to love, choose and look up at you for. And for a heart that is genuine as yours, who can’t and doesn't want to see the bad in those that you love… it is simply confusing. A change so sudden in their behaviour and preference for you and who you are supposed to be. And so many of their voices, of whom used to beg for you to be more closer, that now ask you with anger and frustration why you are here, so ever present?

You can't understand it unless you are in their mind. And they won't tell you what happened either… Because for them the only one to change was you, now that all that they asked for became too much and not anymore needed for them. So you took a step back. Became more silent, more reserved. Not because you wanted to, because you were shy or afraid of being more… But simply because it seemed what all of them wanted. A connection that is only superficial, without any bits of true bond in it, more distanced, more cold. And, just to be sure, you did the same with others too, those that still didn't had a chance to get to see more of you, receive your attention and love, and now will never do. Because you can’t know if they will truly appreciate you or if, apparently, they'll only use you.

But is it really the right thing to do, the right solution? The one to condemn and treat someone coldly, because of another person that actually deserved it? Is it right to ignore those that want to be closer, just because someone else once didn't stay longer? To don't help those that feel so lost and confused, even when every inch of your soul wants to hold them tightly and show them how to go through it?

You are compassionate, you are gentle, you are caring. You want and need to be this way genuinely, without any expectation for others. You are that kind of person that is healing this world, taking care of it, helping us grow with your love and knowledge and experience. And yet you are forcing yourself to become like others, colder, distanced, not interested in what someone feels or goes through. You are trying to change your character, the way you are, the things that you are devoted to and your morals… And because of what? Some people that got up so easily thanks to your support to think that they made it on their own. So naively, like a child who is rushing to show you how well they go on that bike, not seeing that hand that safely holds them.

They might not realise it now. They might continue to think like this for a really long time. But sooner or later they will look back and see all that you did for them, silently thanking you, hoping once again for your forgiveness. But in the meantime, you didn't do it only to have that back, didn't you? You were this way with them because this is who you are, not for them to appreciate it. So why stop being you because of those few? Why putting on pause who you are, not allowing yourself to be this way with anyone else, until those specific people realise their mistakes?

Be you. Be true. Be open and honest. Unlimited in the way you love and care, in the way you truly engage with others. Don't change yourself. Don't try to be someone else who you are not, don't present yourself to new souls this way, because you are much more. And there are so many people who will appreciate your ways and understand their worth.

P.s. I opened a newsletter! Now you can find my readings and guidance right in your inbox. And, if you enjoy my work, it is a great opportunity to create a connection and community that is not limited to tumblr, but can be able to survive any ups and downs of platforms and times. So, if you would like to subscribe, you can do so completely for free right here.↓

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_

[localgardenweed]

Im on a romance anime addiction rn and like just finished one and OMFG IM GONNA CRY THEY WERE SO FUCKING IN LOVE BRO THEY WERE IN LOVVVEEEE

I can’t fucking believe i almost stayed up all night on a work night to watch Cherry Magic! Thirty Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard?! A solid 8/10, some parts kinda wanna make me kill myself and some characters got on my nerves, at one point completely dropped till the end, but i felt the pacing was good and didn’t feel super rushed till kinda the end like we could have used another episode or two

Still looking for good wlw anime cause I ALMOST ACCIDENTALLY SUGGESTED WATCHING CITRUS BUT WHEN I READ A SYNOPSIS I LEGIT SCREAMED LIKE NOOOOOO NOOOOOOOO NOOOOOOOOOOOOO. I just want girls who are in love bro and if its doomed so be it man

[vrystalius]

Not saying “I love you” to the hashira

How would the hashira react to you not saying “I love you” back to them?

Pairing: Sanemi, Kyojuro, Gyomei, Giyu x gn!reader

Sanemi Shinazugawa

♡—Him not saying “I love you” back…

Sanemi not saying “I love you” back is extremely rare. It’s usually the case that the wind hashira is too distracted by something and instead of reincorporating your affection, he might mumble “Yeah, yeah” or a simple “Me too” under his breath, thinking he did say those three magic words properly, only noticing that he didn’t when he noticed that you were being pouty once he did manage to find time to solely focus on you.

Sometimes, when you two lay in bed together, you mumble a quiet “love you”. As you close your eyes and think that your husband is already deeply asleep, you hear Sanemi sleepily respond instinctively to your affirmation.

“Don’t let the rice eat you.”

At least he’s being concerned for your safety even in his dreams.

⁎⁺˳✧༚

♡—You not saying “I love you” back…

It would actually make him really sad. Sanemi strongly believes that he probably did something to upset you, what other reason could be there for you not to reincorporate his words?

He’d silently glance at you every now and then throughout the whole day, trying to analyse your body language to find out if you’re upset at him. Sanemi would hover near you, almost like a kicked-puppy, still waiting on you to give him love, despite the situation of you not reincorporating those words was early in the morning and with that several hours ago. He needs you to reassure him, or else no missions will be finished that day.

“Hey, you forgot something.” He’d try to remind you, but you not knowing what he meant you just cock your head in slight confusion. Sanemi ran his fingers through his hair and sighed quietly. “Nevermind. Whatever.”

Kyojuro Rengoku

♡—Him not saying “I love you” back…

Impossible! Either you didn’t hear him over his mouth being stuffed with sweet potato fries, or he overthought the perfect moment on when to say his favourite three words to the point where he forgets to say them at all. After missing the perfect moment and not saying “I love you, Kyojuro’ll just give you a simple compliment or a wonky yet bright smile, trying to convey his love for you in that way.

If he sees you get confused or even sad about how he is not reincorporating your love, he’ll quickly almost yell the words out, not wanting to upset you.

“I love you! I promise I do!”

⁎⁺˳✧༚

♡—You not saying “I love you” back…

Kyojuro’s first instinct would be to think that you are just too busy or preoccupied to reply to him, especially with you having to run so many errands today. After a couple hours pass where you spend your time elsewhere, he’d briefly worry if there is something that is bothering you, but that thought quickly faded away since your husband is sure that you’ll share whatever troubles you when the time is right and you feel comfortable enough.

So, once he sees you again, Kyojuro’ll continue to give you affection and reassurance, trying to make you feel loved without words by giving you light pecks on your cheek, holding your hand while you two walked or taking you out on a small, unplanned date. He’ll tell you that he loves you again, watching you expectantly with big eyes until you finally utter the words that make his heart melt every time.

“I love you, my firefly!” He had a big grin on his face while those words left his mouth, now awaiting for your reaction. Chuckling quietly, you responded with a small kiss on his cheek. Kyojuro’s face briefly turned into a pout, wanting to hear you say it back. It was just too adorable to tease him like this…

Gyomei Himejima

♡—Him not saying “I love you” back…

The reason Gyomei barely says “I love you” is that he feels that actions speak louder, and besides, you already know that he loves you more than any words can ever express. Although, if you tell him that you love him, he will of course respond by reassuring you with a soft smile and leaning down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead.

⁎⁺˳✧༚

♡—You not saying “I love you” back

If you don’t reincorporate his affirmation, Gyomei wouldn’t mind at all. Just like he does, you express your love for him in other ways: touching him in any way, kisses, small gifts or your presence alone is reassuring him of your love. Yet, it is nice to hear it every once in a while. If you ignore his “I love you” in order to tease him or whatever other reason, he grows very quiet and thoughtful. He wonders if you have any troubles or if he hurt you in any way, sitting down in a quiet area to reflect on all his actions and behaviours over the past weeks, praying quietly.

Your husband also will ask you outright if you are upset at him after pondering for a while. If you tell him no, Gyomei will grow even more worried. Perhaps you were using sarcasm? Surely something must’ve moved you to not respond to his affections, right?

“I love you, my light.” Your husband calls out to you, pulling your attention away from whatever you were doing, responding with a simple “Okay.” You watched as his whole face morphed into one of worry, him slowly retreating back into the gardens to continue to self-reflect and pray.

Giyu Tomioka

♡—Him not saying “I love you” back…

It happens on accident sometimes, Giyu either forgets or is too nervous to say it back. He’s not quite used to the idea of being loved and cherished by someone he loves so much, so his brain temporarily halts when you tell him that you love him. Sometimes, he gives you a nasty look on accident as a response, as if silently judging you for choosing someone like him to date and spend your time with. He hasn’t quite processed everything yet, so please forgive him when he either doesn’t respond or mumbled a very quiet “love you too”

⁎⁺˳✧༚

♡—You not saying “I love you” back…

His heart is shattered, thoughts about you loosing interest in him or not loving him anymore now running in circles over and over in his mind. Those three simple words can do so much with a person’s mind, can’t they? Giyu grows immediately extremely quiet, pulling away from you and heading off to any available mission right now or going to train, trying to give you space. He tries to concentrate on training or the missions but he keeps thinking about you not saying that you love him back. Giyu feels so nervous and nauseous about coming back home, thinking you are not there to greet him and gone forever, or suggesting to break up. He may be overreacting, but he just can’t help it!

Once the water hashira walks through the front door of your shared estate, carefully looking around for your presence, he spotted you in the bedroom. Giyu brought all the courage he had together for this: “I love you.” You lifted your gaze and glanced at him, giving your lover a small smile. “Love you too.”

Oh! His shoulders visibly sagged, tension leaving his body. He gave you an awkward nod before leaving. So his overthinking was all for nothing.

💠

This was inspired by this post (from the Genshin fandom) and I wanted to write my own kny version of it, even if it’s not as long or detailed as the original XD

Anyways, I somehow got sick again and wrote this during the periods I did not feel nauseous but I hope you all enjoyed this anyway <3

Make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <33

[anni1309-blog]

pairing: felix catton x reader 🎀

summary: felix is your stepbrother. what happens if you hear him moaning your name in the bathtub? no one needs to know.

warnings: smut, pseudo-incest, innocence kink, corruption kink, dom felix, sub reader, size kink, dacryphilia, slight choking, creampie, mdni!

word count: 2k

you tossed in your sheets, impossible to get comfortable. every position seemed make you ache, and you were too warm under the blankets, and too cold on top of them. your frustrated huff was the only sound in the quiet night, so you pulled ourself out of bed. the door creaked open, and you crossed the hallway, bare feet padding softly on the marble floors, on your way to felix’s room. it became a habit that you would crawl into felix’s bed and him pulling you close to caress your hair until you fell asleep in his arms.

felix was your stepbrother. you lost your parents when you were very young, and since your family was always close to the cattons, sir james brought you into their home and raised you just like one of his own. so you and felix were always really close. he was protective caring and sweet as if you were his real sister. when you two got older and went to collage, felix was very overprotective over you when it came to you talking to guys, wanting to protect your purity. people would usually think that you two were a couple, the way you would sit in felix’s lap during break or how he would fix your hair when it’s messy or kiss your cheek or temple goodbye.

but on this night when you slipped into felix’s room, you noticed that it was empty. worried as to where he had gone and a bit fussy, you went to look for him, when suddenly you saw light and steam coming from the bathroom. as you grew closer you heard your name being called a in soft but groaning tone, so you curiously advanced till you got to the gap of the door. looking through the gap you saw your stepbrother in the bathtub, eyes closed, mouth slightly agape and his hand stroking himself. you again heard him moaning your name. happily that you found him but not wanting to scare him, you slowly opened the door.

the sound of your feet made him stop his movements and his dark eyes flitted up to you as you drew closer, taking in the sight of you in your short little nightgown. you had no clue how sexy and cute you looked, even as you knuckled at your eyes with a sleepy pout on your face. his deep voice bounced off the room “couldn’t sleep, doll? come here.” so you slipped off your nightgown and joined him in the tub and he pulled you to sit down sideways on his lap. you snuggled down against his chest, with your head resting under his chin. he sighed gently, running his hand up and down your bare thigh. “can’t sleep without you, lix” you mumble softly against his warm skin. he hummed slowly and he felt his heart squeeze. felix placed soft and slow butterfly kisses on your face while stroking your face with his thumb. the he kissed your lips sensually, his large hands coming to your bum squeezing it and taking the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips as you whined.

“lix?” you murmured against his lips.

“what is it, princess?” his heart melted when he saw your glossy eyes.

"m’feeling achey” you whispered looking up at him wriggling from the feeling of lust that built between your thighs.

knowing what that meant he reached his hands down to your thighs, then slowly trailed his fingers upwards until he touched you brushing over your swollen clit, he had to resist letting out a groan “I can help you baby, do you trust me?” you made affirmative whimper sounds as you nodded quickly looking up at him again with a desperate but curious look “I love you lix, but is this okay for brother and sister to do?“

he laughed softly as he looked at you. his breath hitched in his throat and his eyes became filled with desire. your innocent and submissive persona was too much for him to resist, and he felt like he would burst “we love each other right? and no one needs to know”

he guided his fingers against to your exposed cunt, circling around it as you made needy sounds. working in the first finger making you mewl in pleasure, thrusting and curling it slowly before easing in a second one making you already feel very full. squirming and whining “too big” on top of him made him coo “shh doll, you can take it, I need to work you open for me a bit” placing a kiss on your cheek before moving his fingers more quickly in and out of you spreading them. feeling the pleasure more and more building up you tighten around his fingers, fussing when he went to pull them out “please lix, please I’m not done-“ you blabber as a few desperate tears roll down your cheeks.

trying to distract you from the emptiness he took your smaller hand into his much larger one, dragging it down to place it against his already very hard throbbing cock. "that’s not going to fit, you’re too big, lix," you mumbled, eyes wide like saucers as you keep staring at his big cock, your stomach squeezing as you thought about the tear. felix gave a confident smile into your shoulder, kissing down your chest, taking one nipple into his mouth while massaging the other one, while you arch your back towards him.

"so sweet-" he coos gripping my chin making you meet his eyes, "are you sure you want to?"

"yes." you reassure.

he reveled in your pretty moans, using his hand to stroke and line himself up with your cunt. he antagonizingly but carefully pulled you down on his cock, stretching you open.

you wince and gasp slightly when he reaches halfway, "I know it’s a lot just a little more”. he coils his fingers between yours again, to distract you.

"gotta relax baby, I got you," he strokes your hand with his thumb before bringing his other to rub your clit. the pain melted away quickly as the feeling of fullness overwhelmed your senses.

he continues to bottom out and moves deeper as you got accustomed on the new sensations, the feeling of him filling you to the brim by pure size and the gentle pleasure from circling your clit. your whimper was loud as he bottomed out, the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix, you felt impossibly full from his thick and long cock. your nails softly dug into his biceps, he began to gently build up a slow yet punishingly deep pace.

“baby, you are so tight, squeezing me so well” a groan fell from his lips as he threw back his head as your warm walls hugged his cock.

his slow deep pace settled into a faster more desperate one, pounding your cunt, hoisting you up and down by your waist all intent to be gentle with you disappeared.

“such a good girl for me, so small but taking me so well” he grunts and you let out needy moans, desperate tears falling down your cheeks as you sob out his name. felix watched you with a slight smug grin feeling himself getting even harder.

"look so pretty crying for my cock, sweetheart” placing a hand around your neck squeezing ever so slightly making your head spin.

“pleas-“ you try but his pace is so fast and rough now, water is splashing out the tub and your thoughts are completely empty now.

"I think l've fucked you dumb, baby” he said in a slight condescending tone letting him do everything, use you how he wants squelching and thudding as he slams inside you.

“lix, m’feeling funny, feels like I need to pee” you say in a whine, your eyes glazed with innocence. with felix’s orgasm also already close, his thrusts slightly sloppy and mumbles encouragingly “just let go, doll, you can do it.”

you let out a high pitch moan when a sensation hits you like lightning making you shake and shiver as you clench your thighs together clinging to felix. your reaction pushes him to his climax as he pushes one last time balls deep into your tight hole, twitching and filling you with his release to the brim.

felix caresses your hair gently holding you close. “you did so good for me, my girl” he whispers and kisses your forehead. you were too exhausted to move so your eyes fluttered closed as you sank into the full feeling.

“let’s go to sleep, hm?”

[gay-dorito-dust]

hellooo, your writing is amazing so far i love it 🫶🏼

Could you do one for Hobie x fem reader, where the reader is friends with SpiderPunk AND Hobie. But she doesn’t know they’re the same person. And one day lovergirl rants about her fat ah crush on Hobie to him??

First off, thank you for enjoining my writing, I try my best with what working brain cells I have left 🤣

Ooh I love this idea very much! But I might make it a two parter cuz I defiantly went off request…oops…

Part 2

You were just minding your business, chilling on the roof top of an abandoned apartment complex, mind a million miles elsewhere on a certain somebody when a flash of red and blue caught your eye and before you knew it; you company of one had became a company of two.

‘Heya Spidey, how are things?’ You greeted.

He shrugs, ‘the usual but what about you lil missis,’ he playfully nudges you, ‘head so far off into the clouds I’m actually feeling a little neglected over here.’ You laughed, shoving him away by his arm. ‘Oh come off it, will you? I just been thinking about this guy I’ve liked for a while now.’ You admitted and Hobie’s interest was immediately peaked.

For as long as he knew you, Hobie could barely remember the last time you had ever admitted to him in fancying someone, besides from a couple of incidences from way back that ended up backfiring; but other then that, you kinda made it a point not to talk about it, maybe in due to him thinking that whoever you did fancy at the time weren’t worth the effort you’d give had you perused them. You had often called him overprotective whenever you tell him about your crush of the week but Hobie would defend himself by saying he was merely looking out for you and didn’t want you getting hurt by some douchebag.

‘You don’t have to defend me from everything Hobie,’ you once told him as you were patching him up from beating the breaks off of your last crush because they were chatting shit about you behind your back, ‘whilst as sweet as it is but you can’t always be there to look out for me.’

‘Watch me.’ He replied, his view remaining completely unchanged. You sighed, knowing that once Hobie’s mind was made up, nothing you nor anyone else could do to change that. He was an akin to that of an immovable object when it came to his beliefs and views and it was amongst the many things you adored and admired about him most.

‘Oh yeah? And who’s the lucky guy?’ He asked casually leaning back on his arms, watching as you brought your knees close to your chest before resting your chin upon them as your eyes gaze out at nothing in particular; something Hobie noticed you often do when you were particularly in your feelings and needed something to hold onto and ground yourself before you became adrift in your own sea of emotions. It was cute to see you tucked in on yourself so tightly that he couldn’t be more thankful for the fact that you couldn’t see how dopey he must’ve looked beneath his mask.

‘Hobie. Hobie Brown.’

He blinked twice, nah, he must’ve heard that wrong, surely, his hearing must be going all scewiff.

‘Hobie Brown.’ He said his own name as though it was the first time he was ever saying it. Upon seeing the way your shoulders drop and your body becoming at ease upon hearing his name, along with the way you smiled gently and how your eyes seemed to beam with newfound light which all had only helped In affirming to Hobie that he did indeed hear you the first time. ‘What is it about the guy that’s got you all up in knots?’ He asked, trying to act as though you didn’t just indirectly admitted that you’ve got a crush on him to him.

‘Where do I start.’ You started, unable to fight against your own feelings that were swelling up within your chest when an image of Hobie appeared in the forefront of your mind, he was sat on your bed, eyes closed as he allowed himself to get lost within his guitar rifts, his calloused fingers expertly transitioned from chord to chord as it were muscle memory. ‘He’s just so cool and awesome and so forthright and opinionated in his views and beliefs that he’s not afraid to back down from a fight should it come down to it.’ You tell him with a sense of fondness in your voice.

Hobie was quick to notice how your hand fiddle with one of the many handmade pins he’s made you that you always paired up with any and every outfit you ever wore, even if they styles did clash but you didn’t seem to care; Whatever the reason for you reaching for the pins were, whether it’d be out of a need to feel out the closest thing you had in regards to him or it was just something you did out of habit, made Hobie warm within his chest that soon spread throughout his body. ��Sounds like me and this Hobie guy are more alike then I originally thought.’

Your fingers stopped their fiddling and you suddenly looked at him as though you were just now realising something with the way your eyes bore into him, Hobie thought that you might’ve developed the ability to see through the mask that withheld his identity and into him, so much so that he couldn’t help but make a comment on it, ‘stare at me any harder sweetheart and your stare might burn right through my mask.’ You must’ve been deep into your thinking as you didn’t seem to have noticed that he had spoken at all and Hobie was starting to think that he might’ve been too relaxed with you as Spider-Man that you might have started to have it pieced together in your mind; after all you were smart, more so then what you give yourself credit for.

‘Now that you’ve mentioned it you and Hobie do share some of the same attributes and habits, I’m also pretty sure your similar height wise and even though your mask muffled your voice, it fills me with a sense of familiarity that it’s hard for me to put a finger on.’ You said as you leaned closer to him until you were partially merely a breath away from each other. Hobie didn’t know he was holding in a breath until you shrugged ‘but I could just be grasping at a straws, so I won’t dwell on it as much.’ and moved away from him back to your previous position.

As much as he would’ve loved to have you figure out his identity on your own terms. Hobie would prefer it best if he were the one to reveal himself to you but the moments where he wanted to never felt right and he didn’t want to you in danger by doing so, but he knew that there’d come a time where he would be greeted with a choice in wether to tell you the truth as to who he was or continue living like he has currently and potentially loose your trust because of his lack of transparency; Hobie couldn’t bear to think of loosing your trust but just as he has always done since becoming your friend, he was merely looking out for you and for your safety as they were always his top priorities.

[0luv9]

can't move on || mattheo riddle

Summary: He was done fucked, a weak man on his knees for her, mad for her, in love with her and funny enough she didn't know. Him sleeping around isn't helping him though.

Beware: angst, fluff (?), minimal plot, smoking, drugs, alcohol, she/her pronouns, second person used as well, miscommunication, misunderstandings, excessive use of swear words, both reader and Mattheo assume the worst, happy ending.

Words: 4.025k

Mattheo Riddle is in deep shit. His feelings have dug him a deep hole, a hole so deep that he could bury himself a hundred times over and still not be anywhere near the surface. He is so in love with you. And you being so fucking oblivious, mistake his advances for him being friendly. It's funny because when has he ever done something friendly? He's not even friendly to his friends, he insults them as a greeting for fucks sake. It's ridiculous how clueless you are, it was endearing at first but now it's just painful for him to watch you go on dates, that too every date with a different guy.

He thinks you've fucked them all, afterall it's him, Mattheo Riddle, he only thinks in extremes, if you've been on a date with some dude, you ofcourse had fucked him because who wouldn't do you. He resorted to the same ways, fucking his frustration out but instead of feeling satisfied, he would feel relieved for a moment and then his frustration would grow more and more, never coming close to being satisfied. He thought he could just fuck it all out, that he could just forget you, that he could just hate you. It became a routine for him, he got rougher and rougher with the girls he slept with, reaching his own high became harder and harder. It was all because of you, 'cause you couldn't see his love and make him a lover.

His reputation was worsening, his grades started slipping, he started ignoring you, becoming angry easily, snapping at anyone and everyone. Fucking girls left and right, every day was the same and he wondered why the hell he couldn't find a solution to all his problems. His smoking habits became worse, one cigarette turned into two, two turned three and now he was smoking one pack a day. His life was fucked, he could no longer think for himself, the thoughts of you with someone else corrupted his mind at all times. Everyone could see him ruining his life, he couldn't care less, he didn't give a shit about the names he was being called, most of them were true anyway.

…

Tonight was like every other Slytherin party night, except for the fact that he hadn't touched a drop of alcohol, all he wanted was a drunk hookup but he had slept with most of the girls in the room and he couldn't bring himself to repeat them over. He sighed, walking off to a secluded balcony, pulling out a cigarette, it was boring, life had become boring.

"Mattheo," he nearly jerked his head in the direction of your voice, it's been so long since he's heard it. All of it coming back to him, all the feelings he was trying to get rid of came right back, knocking at his heart. He's looking for the sweet smile, the one you'd always give him when you'd talk to him but all you did was frown at him, looking at him like the onlookers who gossiped about him and it fucking hurt. "Yes darling," he greeted you like nothing was wrong, before you would've smiled at his cheesy nicknames but now you grimaced at his hoarse voice and stepped back, he quickly looked away, just like that he blew off his last chance, he couldn't face it, he couldn't see you walk away from him, he physically couldn't.

"Riddle-" "Don't, don't call me that," he whispered, it was pathetic, he knows it too but that doesn't stop him, he couldn't hear you call him that. "Mattheo, I am Mattheo," he breathed out like an affirmation to himself, as though reminding himself of the person he's losing, dropping his cigarette and putting it out with his shoe. There it is, he's doing it again, acting how you'd want him to act, you disapproved of his smoking habits, you never told him to stop though, just so you know, he would stop if you only asked but you never did. You never asked anything of him, making the friendship feel one-sided, never wanting to bother him, you didn't do that with your other friends, you were openly asking them for favours albeit small, still favours, that's how friends are, looking out for eachother but no, you never expressed it, he just had to read into it. It made him feel as though he was your friend, just for the name sake, wow- he couldn't even be your friend.

He closed his eyes trying to contain himself, taking a hit from the burning cigarette, his hands were trembling, he was hurt, he could never be with you, you were making it clear. For the first time he got an actual sign of rejection and he just couldn't take it. "Riddle." It was still your voice, coming from his side, he slowly turned, there you were, standing next to him, looking at him with concern, giving him the slightest bit of hope, making his heart pound against his chest. He simply stared at you this time, unable to think of a response because you called him by his last name, you never did that. You didn't speak either, both staring at eachother, him with everything unsaid, sadness, anger, hope, longing, love, every fucking thing while you looked at him with worry painted all over your face. Mattheo hated to have people worry about him, noone was obligated to do so and he didn't want anyone to do it but right now, he didn't seem to mind, your attention was on him, worried about him. You finally looked away, placing your glass on the railing, alcohol with a lollipop in the glass, a typical you thing.

"alright, Mattheo," a small smile was tugging at your lips at his actions, "tell me, what's going on?" He didn't have anything to say, what would he say anyway? Upon not receiving an answer you sighed and continued, "Draco was telling me how different you've been-" he scoffed loudly interrupting you, ofcourse this is what it is, Malfoy sending you to talk to him, to scold him like everyone else, ofcourse you wouldn't come to him on your own, he was so fucking worthless in your eyes. “Don’t do that Mattheo-“ “Yeah? Why not? Coming here to scold me like everyone else, you know what, surprise surprise, it’s nothing I haven’t heard before.” He was angry, you come to talk to him after all these days and it was to tell him, that he’s bad, that he’s wrong, yes, he started it by ignoring you but you didn’t even make an effort to talk to your “friend” while he was away, it pained him to know that you didn’t even care to check up on him.

“No, I am worried Mattheo, this is not okay for you,” you moved closer, shaking your head trying to find the words, “I tried Mattheo, to catch you, to talk to you but you were always turning away, ignoring me, I couldn’t even get a proper look at you these weeks. Draco was joking about you smoking two a day, one for each girl you slept with, it was then but now, a whole pack a day? I tried to get to you, tried to see what’s been hurting you, but all I saw was your back towards me.” You paused, looking around clearly frustrated, “I thought maybe you didn’t want to talk about it, so I stopped trying but I am sorry, I can’t help myself, I care about you Mattheo and I hate to see you like this,” you looked up at him, hoping he’d understand but he only stared at you blankly, maybe you were wrong to care, he clearly didn’t want to be bothered, you sighed yet again, clearly there was no point, you could only wish for him to be better.

You mustered up all the courage you could, moving closer to the brunette who still hadn’t said a thing, “I am sorry for bothering you, I hope you win whatever battle it is that you are fighting, just know that I care and I can’t help but be worried when you are hurting, sorry if it is selfish that I want you to be better, I won’t disturb you anymore” you gave him a small smile, going up on your tiptoes planting a small kiss on his cheek, lingering for a moment, holding his hand in both of your own giving it a hard squeeze before letting go. It pained you to see that he didn’t seem to care about his own life, making you feel useless for doing the same, he was dear to you, you didn’t want to let go of him but clearly he didn’t want the same, who were you to deny him of anything? So, you let go, taking the moment in before walking away, the tears were ready to fall, you weren’t going to let him see that, you didn’t want him to see how pent up you were over him when he couldn’t even bring himself to care.

Mattheo could feel his chest burn, he could feel the sting in his heart at the sight of you walking away, his knees felt weak, you cared? You tried to reach out? Yes you did, of course you did, you weren’t the ugly person he tried to paint you as, he wanted to hate you so bad, he wanted you to be wrong, he wanted you to scold him, he wanted you to hate him just so he could move on but no, he could never move on from you, even if you spat his way he’d love you. ‘Sorry if it is selfish-’ he fucking wants you to be selfish, he wants you to be selfish about him. Only if he wasn’t busy imagining you with other guys, maybe he would’ve noticed that you smile a bit more around him, just maybe he’d see your eyes looking out for him. Maybe then he would’ve seen the look in your eyes, one similar to his, but he was a fool, he’d always be unworthy of your love, you wouldn’t love someone like him, he ruled that possibility out the very moment he fell in love with you, thereby in his mind even if you actually loved him, you didn’t because he couldn’t see it.

He called after you, he couldn’t see you walk away, not when he has so much to say. You turned around, he saw tears in your eyes, he felt like dying, it was him who made you cry, if he didn't hate himself before, he clearly did right then. With two wide strides he was infront of you, holding your face, wiping away your tears, "please don't walk away from me," he muttered, trying to get you to look up at him, you look up at him with stars in your eyes, taking his breath away, 'I want you so bad' he thinks to himself but it's false, no, he doesn't simply want you, he fucking needs you like the air you take away from him, when you look at him like that- hazy eyed, making him think that you love him but he knows you don't, he knows you don't love the guys you go on dates with, he knows you don't love the guys you sleep with, in his eyes you love to care but don't care to love, he'll be one of those guys, if it means you'll have him, even if it is for one night.

He was staring at you, looking for a sign, waiting for you to push him away but you just look at him with glossy eyes, making him weak, unable to contain himself he presses his lips against yours, you hiss pulling back, the bitter taste of smoke invading your senses, your reaction hurts him, he couldn't even be one of your guys, that's how worthless he is, his grip loosens, he tastes you on his lips, sweet cherry- the lollipop still sugary on your lips. Then you surprise him, fisting his collar, pulling him down, soft lips on his, like honey against his smoke. He loses it then and there, his hand comes up to hold your face, the other low on your back pulling you flush against him. It was heaven, eyes closed, moving in sync, savouring every second, he could feel his skin tingle, his body burn, it was pathetic how you could bring him to feel so much with the simplest of touches, and now you were kissing him, better than any dream or fantasy, it's real, he reminds himself, frowning as he concentrates trying to capture every single detail, of you against him.

Mattheo walks you back to the railings, not letting go of you even for a second. You pull away as the cold metal makes contact with your body, the sting seeping through the thin layer of your clothes. Still impossibly close practically breathing the same air, then the situation dawns upon you, you look up at Mattheo in horror. This is what has become of your love for him, he's using your attraction towards him to get you into bed, just like he did with other girls. There was no difference in their relationship with him and yours with him, evidently so. You loved kissing him but you hated the fact that it meant everything to you but all it was to him was a one night stand, your dignity would not allow it, even though you wanted him so badly. "I'm- I'm sorry but I can't," you quickly walk off, not looking back this was humiliation, you felt embarrassed.

One moment you were there kissing him and the next you were gone, he fucking hates this because he doesn't know what to do or what made you push him away. You gave him hope when you kissed him but shattered it when you walked away, you were confusing him. Why'd you kiss him like that if you wanted to let go? His hands reach out to pull at his hair, "Fuck" he grits out, it was frustrating not knowing what to do, knowing he has done something wrong. But for the most part, he doesn't know how you feel, you kissed him like you felt something but you walked away like it was nothing. He's over it.

…

He's absolutely not over it. He couldn't even stick to the plan for five seconds, images of you in his arms plagued his mind. He could only cherish that moment, he felt more alive in those few seconds than he ever did, his lips are still tingling, it's the next morning and his head is still in clouds. Mattheo for once, feels human- he feels like going to class again just so he could see you. The wound of your rejection was still fresh in his heart but so was the memory of your lips against his in his mind.

He could handle the professors' taunts, he infact muted them out and zeroed in on your face, you were avoiding him, he could see it, trying so hard just like he did the past few weeks. He saw himself in you for a moment but then you started talking to some Hufflepuff dude next to you, smiling at him so pretty, his blood started burning hot when he saw the guy touch you. You did nothing to push him away, pfft- ofcourse he wasn't Mattheo fucking Riddle that you'd push him away.

Mattheo was practically burning holes into you skull as he took a seat in the very back. Only if he wasn't so overtaken by jealousy he'd see that your smile didn't reach your eyes as you laughed at the Puff's joke, that your reactions were simply polite, a mere distraction from the pinching of your heart. You didn't want to be one of the girls he slept with, didn't want to be discarded after being used.

He couldn't even be one of your guys, he fucking wanted it to be him so bad just to have your for a night, just so you could see him in a different light, just so you'd know that he loved you. He'd gladly be discarded by you.

…

Mattheo has been searching for you, for about an hour now, you were minx- rushing out of the class before he could catch upto you. You were no where to be seen, he was actually getting worried. He was just about to enter the dungeons when he saw Pansy near the entrance. She'd know your whereabouts, she was a close friend of yours. She'd help him too, because she was his friend as well, right? Or had he destroyed every relationship he had the past few weeks. "Pans, a moment please" "oh hey Mattheo," she greeted him with a smile, that's a good sign, "umm- do you know where-" there he was, polite stuttering fucktard, "oh I know where she is," He didn't even tell her who he was looking for, confusion taking over his features, "I saw you looking at her in class, you like her don't you?" Was he that obvious? If so, why couldn't she see it? "Yeah," he finally admitted it to someone else, it was out there now, he felt some weight lift off of his shoulders, there was no denying to it, he loved her and he doesn't care if he gets laughed at for it but then his heart stops at her next words. "She's on a date with some Hufflepuff, in Hogsmeade," her voice was sympathetic, hurt was painted all over his face.

They were standing there in awkward silence for a couple of minutes before she broke it, heading towards the entrance, "You know you should tell her," she gave him a small smile, she patted his back ready to slip into the entrance, he stopped her "Why? Did she say something about me?" His voice was full of hope, hoping that maybe she had confessed to her friend just like he did right then but to add onto his sorrow, Pansy shook her head, he let his head hang low, moving his hand over his face, scoffing bitterly at the situation he was in, "but you should still tell her, at least you'll be satisfied knowing that you did something about it than do nothing." She shrugged walking in, leaving him there to think about her words.

She is right. He has to know, to know how you feel, he has to talk to you, has to let you know how he feels because in his heart, there's hope that you may like him back because you kissed him like you did. Mattheo wants to confirm that it wasn't his delusions that rendered your lips to move against his in adoration, something more than just physical. He has to hold you again in his arms-

He didn't even have to walk far away to find you, walking alone in the empty corridor but you turn around as you see him. Mattheo won't let you do that this time, he's onto you within seconds grabbing your wrist and pulling you back. "What-" "Please don't ignore me-" "I am not!" You sound defensive, taking your hand back, folding them as you look at him as though he is some lowlife human, there's a similar hurt in your eyes, one he knows a bit too well. "Yes you are, please don't try to deny it," he says slowly and carefully, he doesn't want you to walk away, "what do you want Mattheo?" You are annoyed, you stretch out his name showing your impatience. He takes his sweet time though, taking your hands in his, they feel cold, snatching away the warmthness of the action, "Why did you walk away? Yesterday?" "Why? Is there some rule against it-""no no ofcourse not-" both of you interrupting each other, you were frustrated, what was he trying to do? Did his ego take such a huge hit that you didn't want to sleep with him, like those girls he used and discarded? "Tell me why is it that you care? It's not a huge deal to you, you can have anyone else to sleep with you, it shouldn't matter that one girl decided to walk away when you have tens and hundreds lining up-" "WHAT?" He was looking at as though you were saying something ridiculous, "I cared about our relationship enough not to ruin it but you had to be there, trying to use me like you use the other girls and then discard me-" "STOP!" He holds your face in his hands, intense gaze setting you ablaze, "I fucking care, don’t think otherwise, I care because it's you, you could never be them-"

"wow- am I so worthless and unattractive in your eyes that you don't even-" "Wait, it should be me saying all of this, about you and the guys you on dates with, the guys you take to bed-" "What guys-" you both were now screaming at eachother, it was overwhelming, having to be vulnerable and admit your feelings and not understand what the person in front of you is saying. "I have not once slept with the guys I went on dates with, I'm in love with you for fucks sake but I got tired of waiting for you to love me," What.

He fucked up.

"Fuck, fuck-" his knees hit the ground as he covers his face with his hands, he's ruined all his chances by being an assuming dickhead. Heavens goodness- "FUCK!" He groans into his palms, not being able to digest what you had just said, he feels ecstatic that you love him but he hates that he's ruined his chances with you, "Mattheo-" "Fuck, I am so sorry, I've been a fool, a fucking idiot-" he pulls you down, grabbing your hands, crying because he doesn't know any other way to express it. He has lost his chance all because he let jealousy get the best of him, took illogical steps to overcome it. "I love you, I fucking am in love with you," he grips your hands tight, shaking them as he speaks, unable to control his very physical reaction, "Mattheo what-" "I thought that I could fuck it all out, fuck all the feelings away but no you were always on my mind, not just you but you with someone else, happy. I thought maybe I could resort to your ways, thought maybe I could sleep around then I'd get rid of my feelings, afterall you seemed happy doing it but you never- FUCK! I am so fucking sorry, I love you-" you kiss him, he sure was an idiot to think that you could just flip a switch and "unlove" him, what kind of love would that be? You hated to admit it, you loved him even when he was sleeping with so many girls, you loved him before he did that, a few weeks were nothing to make you hate him.

It was brief kiss, enough to silence him, tears were still running down his face- he was a heartbroken man on his knees afterall- they were only a sign of his regret, then he was at it again, apologising, "stop Mattheo, you are foolish if you think that I'll love one moment and not love you the next-" "but you don't deserve it, not after what I did-" "let me decide that. Do you love me?" Your ask is serious, so he answers you with utmost sincerity, his words soft, full of truth "I love you, more than I think I can handle," he looks down, you don't let him as you wrap your hands around his neck, pulling him close, "Learn to handle it then, I am not going anywhere." For the first time in his life, does Mattheo experience pure bliss, you are a sin against his lips, he pulls you closer like a prayer because if there's a god above, he'd pray for you to be his.

...

[luffydotcom]

love languages

synopsis: what i think the love languages of different one piece characters are (platonic/romantic)

feat: luffy, zoro, usopp, nami, sanji, ace, law

notes: i feel like love languages can be interpreted in both platonic or romantic ways, so i tried to mix it up, but feel free to interpret it how you will!

warnings: slight spoilers for sanji's (full) backstory (?)

luffy

physical touch. LUFFY is big-hearted and compassionate, sending love to everyone he comes across on his journey often without even meaning to. he is very attached to the people he loves - and very much physically.

luffy is always seen hanging off the arms of zoro, wrapping himself around nami, sitting close to robin when she reads, it's his way of making those around him feel loved and protected.

although he isn't massively clingy to the point where he won't allow you to have your own space, expect a degree of clinginess! physical affection is how he expresses his love towards others as well as what brings him comfort. he is a huge hugger: hugging comforts him when he feels sad, but also helps him comfort those he cares about.

zoro

quality time + acts of service. due to ZORO being reserved, he doesn't often say much - these love languages don't often require words for showing and receiving love.

quality time matters a lot to zoro. even if it's just sitting in silence, a small conversation, training together, or walking outside, he enjoys having someone by his side in these moments as the time spent together shows a level of love and commitment in the friendship or relationship.

zoro strongly values loyalty. spending quality time with him shows that you care strongly about being together and genuinely enjoy being next to him even in the smallest of moments. he likes that he doesn't always have to say things to keep it interesting, sometimes just having someone there can feel very loving and he appreciates that.

zoro is big on actions - if he seriously loves you, he's always got your back and would go to the greatest lengths to show it. he would practically level an army for someone he loves and then act like it's nothing at all. he treats people he loves with a priority and wants to ensure that they are safe and protected.

nami

giving/receiving gifts. for NAMI, i feel like this is a given, but this doesn't mean she is ultra-materialistic and that gifts are the only way to her heart!

when nami was young, she never asked for or expected anything, and lived in a life of poverty. to receive gifts from someone she loves would make her whole world, as it's something she was never able to experience when she was younger. she loves receiving gifts especially when they are well thought-out and gifted with love and consideration.

however, she also expresses love through giving gifts. although nami always jokes about the crew owing her money and needing to pay her back at high interest, she seriously would never trade friendship or love for money. if it's for someone she loves, she would gladly use the money instead to help them or spoil them affectionately with gifts.

usopp

words of affirmation. USOPP feels loved by hearing words that make him feel grounded and secure.

usopp is insecure, unsure of his place in the crew as well as insecure of his lack of strength compared to those around him. he has an inferiority complex - hearing words of affirmation remind him that he is good enough and that there is no need to compare himself to others.

usopp is a liar, yes - but he just wants to be believed in. words of affirmation make him feel sure of himself and that there is no need to lie about who he is. he feels the most loved and validated when someone accepts him for his true self underneath the lies, as this allows him to become more confident in his own skin.

however, he also uses words of affirmation to show his support and care of others. usopp is full of stories (although most of them are fictional), and would use his words to cheer you up in your hardest moments.

sanji

words of affirmation + acts of service. SANJI expresses love by giving his all, but never expecting to receive any love in return - words of affirmation and acts of service give him the love he never knew he needed.

sanji's traumatic childhood of being told that he was a failure and that he shouldn't have been born by his biological family caused him to feel unworthy of love. words of affirmation make him feel deserving of love and care after feeling worthless all his life.

sanji is extremely selfless, going to great lengths to protect and give to the people he loves. he goes out of his way to do acts of service for his friends but feels selfish asking for anything in return. acts of service give him the love he has been missing - going out of your way to do things for him, big or small, makes him feel loved as he feels reassured that his existence is not a burden and that it's not selfish to want things for himself, like favours or help.

sanji will always offer words of affirmation and shower you with compliments to remind you of how much he loves and admires you. he is also very emotionally aware and highly sensitive to the needs of others - he expresses this through acts of service (especially with cooking!) to show his care to who he loves, especially if they need it.

ace

physical touch + words of affirmation. ACE resembles luffy in many ways, he is very physical displaying and receiving love. but besides affection, he needs assurance through words that he deserves love.

ace loves physical touch and is very playful when displaying affection. he loves a good hug, kiss, tickle fight, cuddle, hair ruffle, you name it - he finds it fun and feels like it's the easiest way to let someone know he cares about them or loves them. although he is well-mannered and not as rowdy as he was when he was little, he can be when he's affectionate.

however, ace is also similar to sanji in the sense that he is extremely self-sacrificing and would put his life on the line for those he loves. he needs words of affirmation to remind him that his life is valued and that he shouldn't throw it away selflessly because he deserves to live and be loved.

ace also cares deeply about others' happiness, he would definitely use words of affirmation to comfort you during hard times or to build up your confidence and remind you of how much he loves and cares about you.

law

acts of service + quality time. similar to zoro, LAW s very reserved and introverted. he isn't so sure how to show or receive love in the typical way, and has his own ways of doing so, mainly based on actions opposed to words.

law is very practical. he cares a lot about being efficient and doing things right because of his role as the captain (and doctor) of the crew. acts of service such as favours or giving him a helping hand mean a lot to him as someone who is always busy and working. he also expresses his love towards others through acts of service, such as protecting or aiding others when they are injured. he is not the most emotionally expressive, so his love language is deeply rooted in doing opposed to saying.

law also highly values quality time as he feels as though meaningful interactions with a friend/partner make the relationship strong and connected. having deep, meaningful conversations with him or supporting him in difficult moments let him know that he can trust you and that you care about him.

[lawoffgirls]

⊹ ࣪ ˖۶ৎ Revision and Void State; how to revised your failed attempts with the void state!.𖥔 ݁ ˖

This thread will be based on the idea I had when @/samoaconsiencia(twt) asked for help in our LOA group on how she could revised failed attempts to enter the void state.

Well, I've always been very obsessed with the idea of ​​void, I've been to a toxic level, but nowadays I even like to research more about it to understand both the state and learn more about our mind, but anyway, I've always been thinking, how could I revised my previous attempts failed with the void state, because it is reported as pitch black, I would not feel or hear anything, how would I visualize this? And then when Skye shared this doubt in the group, it seems that my mind went PLIM ✨️ and this idea came up!

Step 1:

You will choose simple things that you want to manifest, such as a tablet, eye color, appearance, etc.

(You can also choose an event, or something that has already happened and say it was a success story of the void!

Ex: your sp liked your story

You can say that this happened because it was a "test" success story of the void!!)

Step 2:

You will define a number of attempts that you have tried to enter the void, for example, let's suppose that you want to review that you have tried enter the void only 4 times (it doesn't matter if it was more or less than that, that choice is yours, it's a revision).

Step 3: Now you will revised that in all these attempts that you decided, you were successful, and in each attempt, as a "test" mode you took on One of those desires that I asked you to choose in step 1, and then that's it!

"But angel, how do I revised?"

It's simple my love, you will define your goal, what you want to review, in this case it is the failed attempts to the void, which will now be successful attempts, in this you accept that you have achieved it, and live your life!

But of course, I know there are people who have a hard time just accepting it like that, so here are some fun ways you can use to revision!

⊹ ࣪ ˖۶ৎ Writing;

You can write in a diary, notebook, list, both digital and physical, how your attempts at void went, what you assumed in them, if you want you can even put dates to make it seem more "realistic", and then whenever you need validation, read it!

⊹ ࣪ ˖۶ৎ Visualization;

In this one you will use your imagination, if you are the kind of person who loves to fanficte, prepare the playlist (or not), close your eyes, relax and visualize yourself waking up from all your attempts at success in the void, with everything you manifested in the form of a "test"!

⊹ ࣪ ˖۶ৎ Affirmation; If you are a more "minimalist" person, then this is for you, create small affirmations, which imply with the attempts to the void, for example "I entered the void as a test and when I woke up from the state there was my brand new iPhone 15 , it really works"!

⊹ ࣪ ˖۶ৎ the original thread!

[gloomwitchwrites]

What If 141 sweet moment (or sexy or both!)

First I Love You

Honey bug, if you give me the option to be sweet, sexy, or both...you know I'm choosing both. When given the option, I will always write smut. ALWAYS! It's mostly because I'm constantly horny and thinking about these men but, ya know. I did my best to give a little variety in the level of sweetness and sexiness. Some of it is really soft and some of it is straight up feral. So. Do with that what you will, friend.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: established relationship, mentions of parenthood, breeding, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie, rough sex, oral sex, vaginal fingering, possessiveness, admission of feelings, swearing, fluff

Word Count: 2.4k

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

You laugh, a bit startled.

Kyle freezes, his lips slightly parted as his brain catches up with the words that have just fallen from his mouth. “Did I?” he asks slowly.

“You did,” you affirm, your stomach now in knots.

There is no sickness festering in your tummy, and there is no fear there either. You are floating. Cloud-like. But all twisted up without an end to the tangle. For months now, you’ve been waiting to hear those three little words from Kyle.

This thing between the two of you started easy. Late night fucks to overnight stays to grabbing breakfast the morning after. From there came Sunday afternoon naps and small dates to a café or coffeeshop.

Small, but evolving. Morphing. Transforming from caterpillar to fluttering butterfly.

All this time, you believed you would be the one to say those three little words first. That they might accidentally slip from your lips unexpectedly and chase Kyle away. You have held the desire between your heart and ribcage as if the feeling were a physical organ.

But the words have been said. By Kyle.

Which means you can say them, too.

“I did,” he says, agreeing with the statement. Kyle’s shoulders relax as if all the tension has gone out of them.

A risk of an idea blooms in your mind. It’s a chance, and maybe asking might sabotage everything, but you want to push the boundary a bit—figure out where the two of you will go from here.

“Could you say it again?” you ask, clasping your hands in front of you demurely.

“Yeah,” chuckles Kyle. “I can do that.”

Guiding his arm to your back, Kyle pulls you close, hand resting against your hip. His brow softens, and his head tilts forward, the tip of his nose lightly brushing along your own. Lingering, Kyle’s lips part, and his tongue teases the underside of his top lip as if he’s thinking about your mouth.

He leans closer.

“I love you.”

It is a whisper. Wispy like thin paper. A few seconds of air that feel like an infinite expanse of stars.

You inhale from the repeated words. Kyle takes that inhalation to closes the distance. It is utterly sweet—like a cherry sucker that stains your teeth and tongue.

You meet him with equal need, only seeking closeness, to feel his warmth everywhere. These kisses are slow and languid and effortless. They come easy, as if the two of you have always done this. As if your lips were made for each other’s.

You reach up to cradle the side of his face. The moment your skin makes contact with Kyle’s, he lets out a little groan of sweetness. There is only heat under your palm. It flows outward and into you until you’re burning like him.

This small sound spurs you to further again. Your hand slides to the back of his neck for a better grip. With fingers digging into his nape, you urge the kisses to deepen, switching from a languid caress to a desperate need that has Kyle’s hand tightening against your hip.

All the kisses that come next are passion-laced. Kyle’s lips part and you tentatively tease him with the tip of your tongue. A low groan comes from somewhere deep in his throat, and then Kyle is forcing your head back, consuming you completely until the two of you finally break apart to breathe.

It is momentary. A brief pause.

Because Kyle’s lips return to your skin with lips, teeth, and tongue. It is not just your mouth that is worshipped but the edge of your jaw and the curve of your ear. His hands roam everywhere, squeezing and grasping until they’re full of you.

“Love you so much,” he breathes where your neck meets your shoulder.

He nips there, and then he is pulling back your top to lick at the top of your breast.

“Kyle,” you groan.

“I want to hear you say it back,” he growls, tugging more of your shirt down. “Say it back, love.”

Kyle gives your shirt a final tug, revealing a nipple. He teases it. Brings it into his mouth. Your back arches, pressing your hips against his. Head falling back, you run your fingers up his neck to grasp the back of his head.

The only response you receive is a quick shift of Kyle’s body. Taking you with him, Kyle draws you to the bed, guiding you to your back.

With the tips of his fingers grazing over your inner thigh, Kyle drapes himself over your body, his other hand pressing into the bed next to your head.

“Say it back.”

There is desperation in his tone, and you indulge him completely.

“I love you too, Kyle.”

He is pleased. Electric. There is nothing that will separate him from you. Every article of clothing is removed and tossed aside. Legs spreading wide to accommodate him, Kyle slides home, sinking into your warmth, moaning loudly when he’s fully inside.

John Price

“I know what I want.”

“Do you, John?”

John steps out from around the kitchen island, striding toward you with purpose in every step. “I know you doubt sometimes,” he begins, and you scoff, glancing away.

John grasps the back of your neck, forcing you to look at him. The touch is dominating but it isn’t painful. There just isn’t anywhere to go but to move into his embrace.

“I’m not that young recruit anymore that enjoyed fucking you at my convenience.” John’s hold on your neck tightens a bit, drawing you even closer against his chest. “I’m older now. I want to settle down. I know what I want.”

“And what is it that you want?” you ask.

The two of you have been together forever, but you’ve never heard Price utter the words “I love you.” You don’t know why but you have your suspicions. There were times when you thought there might be someone else, but now that John’s moved up in the ranks, you believe it might come from a place of uncertainty.

You never know when he’s going to come home. But oftentimes John doesn’t know either.

“I want you. No one else.”

“John,” you breathe, attempting to shake out of his grasp.

“No,” he growls. “Listen to me.”

“I am,” you snap, slightly irritated.

You’ve heard this all before. And maybe you should go. Pack yourself up along with your daughter you share with him. It would hurt—especially her, but you need something concrete. Solid.

“I love you.”

It’s almost a growl at it comes out of him. He sounds more animal than human, as if the words need to be said before he transforms into anything other than himself. Then, John’s grip on your neck softens, becoming a caress. You lean into it, eyelids closing slightly as his thumb runs over the front of your throat.

“I love you,” he repeats, this time much softer. A sweet song—or wine that goes down easy.

“I love you,” he says again, lips brushing against yours.

You’re melting like butter spread across warm bread. His voice is husky now. Needy. Heat pools in your core and your pussy slickens in anticipation.

“I don’t say it enough.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say it,” you reply immediately.

You expect hurt in his gaze, but there is none.

“Then I need to remedy that,” he murmurs.

John’s hand drops away from your throat and then he’s placing you on the kitchen island. Forcing up your shirt and removing your shorts, John makes quick work of removing your underwear, giving him full access to your body.

“How much time do we have?” he rasps, dragging you to the edge, his fingers sliding over your pussy to part you wider.

You fall back onto your elbows and glance at the clock. “She’ll be home from school in fifteen.”

“Good,” growls John just as he sinks a finger inside.

“Oh fuck,” you groan, head tipping back as his thumb brushes soft circles around your clit. He’s not touching it directly, but the tease of the indirect contact causes your walls to clench around him.

“I love you,” says John, pumping steadily, inserting a second finger as his thumb drags over your clit.

“I love you,” he repeats as the first orgasm crests.

It’s all he says, repeating the words until his voice is a mantra in your mind, and his fingers are gone, replaced by his cock that has your back arching. You’re thankful for the marble beneath you, and its strength as you grip the edge.

John grunts over you, his “I love you” becoming slurred and wispy.

At some point you repeat it back, clinging onto those three little words as much as John does. Even after he’s come inside you, John has you back on your feet, dragging you into the bedroom for another round before both of you have to fall into parental duty.

But even that is a distant thought in your head.

You’re only thinking of John, and the worship of his love as he devours the altar that is your body.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“You’re taking my cock like this or not at all.”

You whimper, popping your hips, presenting your pussy to Simon. You’re reward with a quick, light slap. Skin meets skin, your wetness apparent and loud in the room when Simon makes contact. You jerk slightly from shock, and then the bed is sinking beneath you as Simon settles between your legs.

With arms crossed, you rest your head on your forearms, awaiting Simon’s claiming. His hands roam everywhere. Touching everything until your skin is alight with need and your pussy is so fucking slick you know he’s going to slide right in.

“Please,” you whimper.

“So needy. I love you like this.”

Simon’s hands run up the backs of your thighs and settle on your ass. His hands are full of you, and then he’s squeezing. Striking. Slapping. The skin smarting under each blow.

“Your body is fucking mine. Mine to fuck. Mine to pleasure.”

One hand roams upward, curling around the spot where your neck and shoulder meet, fingers digging into bone. The head of Simon’s cock rubs back and forth through your slickness and then he’s notching himself at your entrance, plunging inside without pretense.

There is nothing sweet about this. Simon is all roughness, fucking you into the bed until you feel an ache in your bones.

You cling to the bedding, hands fisting the sheet as Simon uses you for himself. It’s not like you don’t like this. You enjoy it. You enjoy his need for ownership and possession.

You are lost to it, but then Simon yanks your right out.

He drapes himself over your back, one hand planted just above your head for support while the other wraps around your throat. Simon pauses in his thrusts for only a moment before he’s at it again. This angle is deeper, and it rips strained moan after strained moan from you.

“All mine,” he growls. “This pussy is all mine. Gonna fucking breed you, yeah? Fill you with my cum.”

Simon whispers these words into your ear like his relentless thrusting doesn’t faze him at all.

“You’re fucking gorgeous like this. My good slut. My perfect girl.”

Simon presses his face to the side of your head. Your brain is lifting. Floating away.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Love you so much.”

That last part—that last little bit—reshapes you. The orgasm grows hot and fast and then you’re squeezing hard around Simon’s cock.

His groan is chocked, hips stuttering, and then you feel the warmth of his cum flooding your pussy.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Every muscle is languid and loose.

Your pussy aches—but not from pain. Johnny is needy, and he’s been ravenous, fucking you all over his flat. You’ve lost count of the orgasms. Each one moving into the other until it feels like a continuous waterfall of pleasure.

Every touch of Johnny’s is overly sensitive. Your body twitches underneath him, crackling with an electric energy that brings tears to yours. Sweat clings to your skin and his. Each thrust and slap of skin is slick.

“Fuck, Johnny. I—I can’t. No more. Please.”

Johnny’s chest heaves a bit. He’s clearly inching toward exhaustion. But when has that ever stopped him.

“One more, love. Come here.”

Johnny’s arms go around you, pulling you into his lap.

Even though every limb is screaming in protest, your senses spark again when his hard cock rubs against your pussy, the head brushing along the edge of your clit. You clench around nothing, and a little shiver travels up your spine.

Johnny’s mouth trails over the skin of your throat, his tongue taking up a bit of the moisture.

“Wrap your legs around me. Best you can.”

You do as Johnny instructs, and then his hands slide under your ass, lifting enough that the head of his cock finds your pussy. Slowly, Johnny brings you down on him inch by inch until you’re perfectly stretched again.

Once you’re completely seated on his cock, Johnny adjusts his grip, grasping your hips. With gentle guidance, Johnny urges your hips to rock slightly. His own imitate the same motion. The two of you meet repeatedly.

Each rock of your hips forces Johnny deeper. You moan, head tilting back, but Johnny grasps the nape of your neck.

“Look at me,” he croons, fingers digging into your skin, the small hairs there catching under his touch.

Your eyelids are heavy with lust but you manage, seeking that gorgeous gaze you know so well. Johnny’s arms adjust, supporting more of your back as the two of you rock. It’s languid, but nice. Different from the earlier rounds when Johnny just needed to be inside you in whatever way you’d allow it.

Johnny’s arm tightens as you drape yours around his neck.

It’s easier to lean forward, resting your forehead against his. Breaths are exchanged. Lips brushing but not really kissing.

With the next set of thrusts, Johnny shivers. “I love you,” he murmurs. “Fucking love you.”

At first, you don’t hear him clearly, the haze of pleasure sitting heavy. But your mind begins to clear as it processes what he just said.

“Johnny—”

“Love you so much,” he groans softly, stealing your lips before you can protest.

It’s the first time. The very first, and yet you don’t completely believe it.

“Oh, fuck. Hell,” gasps Johnny, giving in to whatever he’s after by tipping you toward the bed, putting you on your back.

Your legs automatically spread wider and then Johnny is fucking you completely, draped over you like a protective cocoon.

Love you,” he murmurs into your ear.

It repeats with each thrust.

And then you’re saying it, too.

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@ferns-fics @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

@beebeechaos @no-oneelsebutnsu @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction

@weasleytwins-41 @nommingonfood @saoirse06 @unhinged-reader-36 @ravenpoe67

@sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81

@azkza @nishim @voids-universe @iloveslasher @talooolaaloolla

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[timmydraker]

Tim isn’t the only queer person in the family, in fact he’s probably one of the last members to actually accept or even realise he wasn’t in the heteronormative category.

But he’s the most open about it.

After Janet died and Jack woke up, the man actually tried to do right by Tim and outwardly told him he was going to try be more understanding of his bisexual son. The two never became the father son duo Tim wanted, but he started to see Jack better, kind of like an uncle in a way.

It was enough for him to feel better making comments on male actors at movie nights, to joke about him being in the gay group of people who didn’t know a single thing about fashion and calling himself a stereotype breaker because of it.

Dick never wanted a label and Bruce was still in denial about his various male crushes, which was probably why Tim was in the situation he was in now.

Tim didn’t turn around to face Damian, if only because the younger had very purposefully sat directly behind him where he was sitting on the library floor.

He played over Damian’s question in his mind, “Why is it important to people that you Mary the opposite gender?” Because holy shit was that a big question.

Eventually Tim answered once Damian tensed in a tell tale way that he was about to run away, “Ignorance, mainly, but it’s all about what people are taught. It’s like how people believe in gods and supernatural things, it’s them hearing what others have said or not being able to understand something purely cause it doesn’t apply to them.”

A moment passes and the other doesn’t respond, so Tim adds a bit more.

“People struggle with change, especially when they are right something to be wrong or evil. Often they just get scared or feel threatened and just… don’t even try to learn. It’s okay to not know something, it’s when people refuse to learn that it’s bad.”

Tim thinks he feels Damian nod behind him but it’s hard to tell until the other lets out a tiny hum of affirmation.

When he doesn’t respond, Tim goes back to his tablet a little awkwardly and tries to figure out why his brother had asked such a question.

After around five minutes Damian finally speaks, his voice strangely timid, “If someone has… wrong opinions or has been taught something false, are they able to come back from it?”

That… wasn’t what Tim expected.

Did Damian know someone close to him that was being homophobic or had the League held hetero standards?

Knowing to tread carefully, Tim didn’t ask for confirmation on any of this lest he scare of his rather temperamental brother.

“Of course. Just look at my father, he was raised to hate people like me but his care for me made him try. He’s not the best at it, but he’s trying and that’s more than I ever expected. You can’t fix hate with love, you need understanding and sometimes you just need to offer the chance to try do so.”

Another lapse of silence, though this time shorter before Damian stood up. “Thank you, Drake.”

As the youngest Wayne left, Tim was left feeling both shock and pride at Damian saying a real, not forced ‘thank you’ after asking for help with something on his own.

Tim knew that Damian came to him because he was so loud about his acceptance of his own sexuality and his push for queer rights, but even months later he had no idea what pushed Damian to ask at all.

Either way he was happy to help his little brother.

[adieutristana]

could you write something about jinx in the alternate universe x fem reader? something like putting on makeup and painting their nails together talking about the future

ohh this is adorable! thank you for requesting <3

no joke i listened to geronimo’s cadillac by modern talking on loop the entire time i was writing this. please give it a listen it’s amazing

summary: powder (act iii) and fem! reader getting ready together.

characters: powder (act iii au)

tags/warnings: fluff, act iii spoilers, i can’t think of anything else honestly?

men dni.

the gentle sound of a guitar fills the cluttered room over a stereo.

you’re sat with your legs crossed parallel to powder, who is currently taking various makeup products out of a small pouch. she settles on her products of choice, and she presses her lips together in a thin line before glancing up at you.

“ready?”

she asks.

“ready as i’ll ever be.”

you affirm with a small nod. your girlfriend’s eyes soften as her lips tug into a gentle smile. the smile you’ve grown so fond of over the past few years. the smile that makes every hardship during the day, every obstacle, every moment of insecurity worth it. your heart tightened in your chest as she dipped a brush into a yellow shade in her palette and leaned over you.

“close your eyes.”

her soft voice says. she gently brushes shades of light yellow over your eyelids, the sensation foreign and odd. slightly ticklish. you try to keep a straight face for powder, not wanting to mess up her work, but you can’t help your face loosely scrunching up every now and again. she whispers little comforts such as ‘relax,’ or ‘just a little longer’ before you hear the palette snapping shut.

you open your eyes to the sight of powder scrambling on the floor for a tube of mascara. she picks out a few lipstick tubes mistakenly, then finally lands on a skinny tube of black mascara. she twists it open, and this time instructs you to keep your eyes open. it’s tough to not blink, but you manage, and powder’s smile makes a return. that damned smile.

“you know, trinket, this is pretty nice. getting away from the chaos of the academy and everyone else. i like when we have these moments, just you and me.”

powder communicates as she brushes rouge on your cheeks, switching sides then examining your face to make sure you have an equal amount of product on each side. you nod in affirmation and take her free hand to slowly intertwine your fingers with hers.

“hopefully we’ll have many more of them to come.”

you reply.

she just chuckles in response before moving on to lipstick, twisting up the tube to reveal a dusty pink shade. she’s now impossibly close to you as she ever-so-lightly parts your lips, and you can feel her breathing against your skin. her focus is laser sharp as she applies the lipstick.

“all done!”

powder exclaims, grabbing your shoulders and helping you up from the floor. she leads you over to a mirror and stands directly behind you, hands still gripping your shoulders.

“do you like it? i think i did a pretty good job.”

she giggles, and your expression is one of slight shock- only for a moment.

“powder… you really outdid yourself. it’s beautiful.”

you whisper, gazing at yourself in the mirror. your eyelids sparkle bright, the shades she chose perfectly compliment your complexion. your eyelashes look longer than ever. you around to wrap her in a tight embrace. she lets out a content hum, relaxing in your arms and letting you ruffle her choppy blue hair.

“you’re beautiful.”

you place your chin atop powder’s head for just a second, looking at the two of you in the mirror- a happy couple- before an idea comes to you.

“hey, love?”

“hm?”

“you did my makeup… why don’t you let me paint your nails?”

you offer, pulling back to give her a promising look. she looks to the side, playfully tapping her chin with her index finger before enthusiastically nodding. you give her a lighthearted scoff, and head over to a clear drawer with nail polish.

she has almost every color of the rainbow. assorted purples, pinks, yellows, hues of turquoise and azure; but you land on a metallic sky blue. one that matches her beautiful blue hair. after making your choice, you look over to see powder is already sat back in the spot she occupied before.

“i don’t think i’ve ever painted someone else’s nails before,”

you comment, palms shaky. you’d painted your own countless times, but never another person’s. powder just reached over with the hand that wasn’t yet painted, and gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

with that gesture, you open the bottle and begin slowly brushing over each nail. the blue looked even more beautiful on powder than it did in the bottle. she looked down at what you were doing, then back up at you, then back down. a cycle. your girlfriend tried to keep her eyes off of you, but she just couldn't. you looked so cute when you were so focused.

"i know we're going to this party later, but do you wanna grab something to eat afterward?"

powder asks. those kind eyes looking straight into yours. you hummed and nodded, trying not to break your focus.

"i'd like that. maybe we can walk around a bit after, look at the undercity at night?" you suggested with a hum.

powder gave you a smile.

"that'd be nice. maybe get a glimpse into our life after you graduate.. where do you think we'll be then?"

you're finally finished the girl's nails, and you pull back. she looks at them for a moment, examining the way the light catches the metallic polish from multiple angles. you take a pause to think as you screw the lid back onto the bottle.

"...i'm not sure. but we'll be happy, right? maybe we'll get married."

"married? you move fast!" powder teased.

"pow-pow, we've been together for two years."

she gives your shoulder a light shove, giggling before she places a chaste kiss on your cheek. one that'll probably leave a stain in its wake.

"i know, silly. i'm just teasing. i'd love to get married to you one day.. but you've gotta finish that degree first!"

"that seems like forever away." you groan to yourself, under your breath.

"hey, it's not so bad. we can go on a lot of adventures between now and then, right? i'll be at your graduation, you'll be there for all of my milestones. it works out!"

you just smiled, shaking your head. powder was right. the two of you had all the time in the world on your hands, all the opportunities to do whatever you chose. that was one of the greatest things. that you had time, and someone you loved by your side. someone who loved you.

you inch closer to powder and wrap your arms around her waist loosely. she raises her eyebrows at the sudden proximity, but is relaxed. you close the distance between you and your girlfriend, placing your lips on hers, settling into a gentle rhythm. feeling one of her hands settle on your lower back and the other cradling the back of your head. feeling her smile against your lips.

as you pull away, you notice powder looking at you with those big baby blues. she's giddy and smiling ear-to-ear, then swiftly brings you into an even tighter embrace, flush to her chest.

"we should probably get going, shouldn't we?"

"probably.. but it won't be a big deal if we're a few minutes late."

you comment. powder just chuckles and pulls you into another kiss.

[08crll]

🎨💐 246; GYEONG-SEOK HEADCANONS.

sfw & nsfw! <3

desc: 1.9k words. i NEED this man, i wish he was real. an angel loses its wings everytime this man gets written ooc 💔 so hopefully this one is in character.

sfw. gender-neutral!reader.

★ this man LOOOOVES cuddles. look at him. it doesn’t matter if you prefer being the big spoon or the Iittle spoon一he just wants to feel you close to him before he sleeps and when he wakes up.

★ he's probably a little touch starved too. but he would never say it, not because he doesn’t want to appear weak or anything, he just doesn’t want to scare you away.

★ if u were to ask him what his love language was, he’d say it was quality time or acts of service but, really, that’s only what be wants to provide that for his partner. what he really want is physical touchh:( and words of affirmation!!

★ crafty guy. he would make u cards, letters and those paper origami flowers. it doesn't even have to be on special occasions, sometimes you just come home from your work and he surprises you with a new paper craft he discovered. made out of anything he could recycle. be it a receipt, a paper bag, newspaper.

★ very touchy. but not in a bad way. always asking if you're okay with it.

★ this man probably gets all flushed and shy when you call him handsome.

call him your good looking boy and he already has that sweet smile you always loved to see. burying his face on your shoulder as you run your fingers through his hair.

“what’s with all your sweet words?” his voice muffled by your shirt. you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“can i not call you handsome?”

“aahh.. quit it,” he rolled his eyes, pushing you down the couch and peppering your face with kisses.

★ loves hugging you from behind, especially when you cook or you’re at the grocery store. you’d be looking at the list of things you needed to restock on while he pushed the cart not too far behind you.

was it powder or liquid detergent? you thought to yourself, pulling out the list from the back pocket of your pants. then, out of nowhere do you feel arms around your waist, warm hands settling on your hips. “where's our cart?” you murmured with a smile. gosh, you were just starting to freeze under the cold air conditioner of this damn store.

“its fine. ‘just right behind us,” gyeong-seok reassures you as he rests his chin on your shoulder. he really couldn’t care less if people stare. he wants them to see how much he loves you. “is this okay..?” he whispered, his breath tickling your jaw.

you just chuckle, not bothering to give him a verbal response. instead, you lean back into his touch. your back pressed against his chest. his lips curled into a sheepish smile, pulling his head up to place a soft kiss on that sensitive spot of your neck.

★ definitely has multiple drawings and doodles of you in his sketchpad. never shows you because he’s afraid you might think he’s being a bit much.

★ musician!reader & him? perfect pair. art recognises art! when he hears you playing your instrument in a different room, he immediately drops whatever he’s doing and carefully walks to where you were to watch you do your stuff. if na-yeon is home, he’d definitely bring her with him.

★ always has his eyes on you even during times when he probably shouldn’t, like when the two of you are having a conversation with na-yeon’s teacher about how well she’s been doing in her classes. or when you were having dinner with your parents. you were explaining how you met him and he just admires you like he’s looking at you for the very first time.

★ adding onto the previous one, because of how often he just stares at you; you often mistook this as him spacing out and not listening but he actually was listening to every single word you said. your voice sounded like heaven to him, how could he not? when you ask him to recite what you just said, you were surprised to see how he got it right, word for word.

★ definitely the type to go out of his way to do something because he thinks you’d like it. during one of your library dates, he catches you picking up a book about poetry, complimenting the work inside and how beautiful people write when they’re in love. after that day, he definitely went home and wrote multiple poem drafts about you.

★ speaking of dates!! this man would be the type to apologise to you because he can’t take you to those fancy restaurants. you had to remind him multiple times that eating at fine dinings wasn’t really your thing anyway, that it made you self-conscious to be around such fancy people. he frowned, thinking you were just saying that so he’d stop apologising and you knew just how to cure that.

“you know.. i always did have a soft spot for library dates.”

his face lit up and ever since then, he never forgets to take you on your weekly library dates. it was a good place to unwind as well. killing one bird with two stones; spending quality time with you knowing that you actually enjoy being here, and being able to have some peace and quiet.

★ the protective and worried type!! always texting “are you home?” after dropping you off at your place. “are you tired? do you want to sleep?” as much as he’d love to text you up until the early morning even if it meant he had no sleep when he got to work tomorrow, he doesn’t want you to be sleep deprived.

★ i’ve seen other ppl say this and i just can’t get it out of my head; he’s probably insecure about himself whenever you introduce him to your friends and your family :(

when you invite him to attend a dinner party, telling him it was just a get together with some old friends from your hometown, he misheard you.

“you should definitely go! i know how much you miss your friends,” he beamed, giving you a thumbs up.

you furrowed your brows. “honey.. wait, no, i want you to come with me, yeah?”

he looks at you confused. you want to bring him with you? for what? he was never the type to be jealous of you attending events by yourself. maybe it was because he trusted you or maybe because he didn’t want to hold you back. he knew you to be too good for him. a single father, struggling to make ends meet and provide for his sickly daughter—it wouldn’t be much of a shock to him if you ghosted him out of nowhere or if you leave him for another person. please give this man some reassurance!!! :(

★ always wakes up before you in the morning. his fingers trailing across your face while he admires the way the sun shines behind you making it look like you were glowing. he really doesn’t know what he did to deserve you, but my god, did he consider himself the luckiest man alive for that reason.

★ loves it when you cup his face with both your hands. he’ll have the biggest and silliest smile on his face when you do so.

nsfw! gender-neutral & fem!reader.

★ a soft dom, but would gladly be submissive if you asked.

★ as we already know, he’s a very good listener, even in bed. he’s always listening to the way you moan, the sound of your whine, the pitch. does flicking his tongue feel good? he’d ask but he had a feeling that the sound of you already gave him the answer.

★ probably would prefer to be intimate in comfortable spaces. although he would never object if you offered to give him a quickie, each time he’d remind you of how you never needed to do this. that he’d take care of it himself.

“you don’t have to. it’ll go away. i can—”

“i want to. please?”

how could he say no to those eyes?

★ prioritizes your comfort above anything else, above his own. if you were in an awkward place, but you really needed to get off—needed him—he would hold your hand firmly. “i’ll take you home, come on,” he’d say as he pulls you next to him.

★ loooves having you ride him, but he worries that it’ll tire you out too much

★ when your face gets sweaty, hair clinging to your forehead with your mouth open, he makes sure to brush your hair back with his fingers. he wants to see your flushed and fucked out face clearly, wants to see if he’s doing good

★ always preps you beforehand. he can’t stand the thought of hurting you, even IF you’ve done it countless times before.

reaching for the zipper of his jeans as he gently swats your hand away. “i need to prep you first, honey..” he cooed, pulling your pants down. he knows how eager you are, but he needs to take care of you first.

★ the only times he wouldn’t prep you would probably be when he’d be the sub. you ordering him around, telling him what to do and what not to do

★ subtle touches doesn’t get him turned on right away (he’s more mature than that. he’s not a pervert) this probably also means that he’s a little oblivious to your advances, you’d have to tell him directly what you needed or wanted of him and watch as his eyes widen, looking around to see if na-yeon heard the two of you. “honey.. are you sure?”

★ there would be times when you’d show off your skin and instead of him getting aroused, he’d just be in awe of your beauty. i mean, he probably IS aroused but he just doesn’t go insane over it.

★ breeding kink, FOR SURE, but he always asks first.

“can i come in you, baby? please?”

“i’m so close.. ‘so close..”

“pleaseee...” paired by him whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

★ doesn’t like BDSM. i mean, he’s a father now. also hates the thought of hurting you purposefully. he’d also probably never say it, but he doesn’t like getting degraded as well :( just give this man some praises, he’s already sad enough as is!

★ saw ppl saying he has a daddy kink and im just like nooooo 💔💔 he has a daughter that literally calls him daddy, why would he ever want you to call him that in the bedroom?

★ his rhythm would be slow and gentle, wanting to feel all of you and be with you in the moment. you would have to beg this man to go faster

★ the type to hold your hair back during blowjobs. he’d probably accidentally pull on it when you flick your tongue over his tip, but apologies would quickly come spilling out of his lips.

“‘m sorry.. sorry, honey.. i didn’t mean to.. fuck, that felt good..”

★ always reminding you of how beautiful you are while his cock is buried deep inside you.

“you’re so beautiful like this.. taking me in so well..”

“yes, that’s it.. c’mon.. you’re so pretty..”

★ he makes sure you come before he does, and when he does come (whether it’s in you or on you) he takes a minute afterwards to take a breath while you feel his cock still half-hard inside you.

“i love you so much.”

“you did so good f’me..”

★ aftercare king 🫡🫡

a/n: there are literally no fics of him (x reader) on ao3 so i have turned to tumblr bc tumblr RARELY disappoints when it comes to content for side characters 🙏

[marie-swriting]

Love Advice - Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Top Gun Maverick Masterlist

Summary : Jake comes back after six months of deployment and he needs your help to win the woman he loves.

Warnings : a tiny bit of angst, mutual pining, thinking there's an unrequited love, happy ending, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warnings.

Word count : 3.4k

French version

Song inspiration : How You Get The Girl (Taylor's Version) by Taylor Swift

Somebody knocking on your door takes your attention away from your TV show; at first, you just lower the volume down so the person doesn’t know you’re home and wait for them to leave. However, the second the knocks on the door get more insistent and you hear ‘I know you’re home’ with a Texan accent, you jump out of your couch and run to open the door to Jake. You joyfully shriek before throwing yourself into his arms. Jake laughs because of your enthusiasm, then he tenderly holds you close to him. 

You haven’t seen each other in six months because of his last deployment. Of course, you called each other almost every day, it’s just not the same. You've been thick as thieves since you were five, you need to see each other often. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming home today?” you ask, breaking the embrace.

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, you did. I missed you so much!” you exclaim, kissing his cheek before bringing him inside. “I hope you’re staying home for a long time. Six months without seeing each other is too much!”

“I totally agree.”

As usual, when he comes back home, you spend the day together then, Jake sleeps at yours. You go downtown, eat something, even watch a movie if there’s something interesting and the next day, Jake goes to his place - he lives twenty minutes away.

As soon as the night comes, you go home, takeout food in hand. You go into your living-room and you put a random show as background noise. You keep talking about the last few months in order to catch up when you decide to bring up a topic Jake seems to avoid.

“So, you didn’t tell me anything, what’s going on with Lara?”

Jake met Lara in a bar a week before leaving. You weren’t with him that night, so you don’t know a lot about their relationship; all you know is Jake got along with her pretty well.

“Oh, huh… Well…” he stutters and avoids your gaze.

“Jake,” you say with a disapproving tone. “Don’t tell me you messed up. Not again!”

“Not really. Okay, maybe a little.”

“What did you do?”

“I may or may not have not called her since I left.”

“Are you kidding me?” you scream, hitting his shoulder. “Do you realise you’re the kind of guy we talk shit about when we’re talking with other girls? Jake, you have to stop being a dick and destroying your relationship. You’re a nice guy, but whenever it’s about love, you’re the worst of them. Every time you find an awesome girl, you just ruin everything.”

“I know and this time, I want to fix this.”

“Before we keep going, you didn’t cheat on her, did you?”

“I might suck at relationships, however, you know I have some limits and I’m quite proud to say I’ve never crossed that line.” he affirms with a grin.

“You better!”

“Anyway, at first, I didn’t know what I wanted with her but now I do. I really connected with Lara and I want her to forgive me and give me another chance, I just don’t know how to do it.”

Following his sentence, you immediately understand what he wants. He messed up and now he needs your wise advice to fix the situation. Again. You roll your eyes before straightening up.

“I’m gonna make you pay for my love advice one day, at least, I’ll become a billionaire in a month with you.”

“You’re the most stable person I know when it comes to relationships so obviously I always go to you! Besides, you’re a woman, you know what to do.”

“True.” you modestly confirm. “First thing first, meet her in a neutral environment, a café for example.”

“And I buy her flowers?”

“Do you know her favourite flowers?”

“Roses are the safe option, right?” he suggests and you’re desperate.

“Do you know any personal details about Lara, like her favourite book?” you ask and he shakes his head. “Well, just pay for whatever she orders. First, you apologise and you do it correctly, you put the focus on her and what she might have felt. The goal is not for her to comfort you because you feel bad when you’re the one who messed up. If she still hasn’t thrown her drink in your face, you’re on the right track. Then you say, in the most convincing way, you want her, not an other girl, for worse or for better. You know it’s gonna take her some time for her to trust you again but you will forever and ever. Tell her you know you broke her and you’ll put it back together because you care about her and you want to do better for her. In short, show her you want to be a better man and make sure your actions match your words quickly. And that’s how it works, that’s how you get the girl. At least, your chances will be higher.”

“You seriously think it can work?” Jake asks skeptical. 

“I can’t 100% promise you but, at least, it shows you want to be the man she deserves. Either way, you have to keep me updated! And also, don’t wait too long to do it. You should even contact her right now so you can see her in the following days.”

“You’re right.”

Jake takes his phone and quickly types a message. After you approve it, he sends it and nervously waits for the response; however, being tired from the travel, Jake quickly starts to yawn so you go to sleep. Jake sleeps in the same bed as you. You’ve always done it so you’re not going to change this now, after all, between you two, it’s purely platonic.

At least, for him. The same cannot be said about you. When you were still in High School, your crush on Jake was almost embarrassing. It’s actually the only secret you’ve never told him. Officially. During prom, you confessed to Jake you wanted to be more than friends nevertheless he was so drunk he didn’t understand it and the next day; he had zero recollection of it and you were very grateful. You don’t know what you would’ve done if he had remembered. You probably would have lost your best friend and you couldn’t allow this to happen so you just repressed your crush until it eventually died. 

Notwithstanding, what you don’t know and the only secret Jake has never told you is that he remembers pretty well what you told him that night. He was just so stunned that he pretended he didn’t understand it. He thought he didn’t like you that way so he said nothing to not alter your friendship; though, the backlash was pretty violent two years later when you got your first serious boyfriend, Jake was insanely jealous. At first, he just thought he was afraid to lose his best friend until he reached the dreadful conclusion: he has feelings for you and it’s too late, he missed his chance with you. As a consequence, Jake went from one fling to the other while you were going from one long-lasting relationship to the other without him understanding what you found to ‘those dudes’ like he always says. Though, these last few months, he has come to terms with the fact one of ‘those dudes’ whom you’ve been with for several years is the one for you. Jake isn’t sure he’s the one you deserve, and he doesn’t want to ruin your friendship, that’s why he wants to fix his relationship with Lara, especially because your relationship with Scott is the longest one you’ve ever had and he’s probably your future husband so Jake definitely has to stop hoping you’ll get together one day. He has to move just like you did.

The next morning, once Jake wakes up, you’ve already left for work. While he’s eating breakfast, Jake’s eyes are set on a picture of you and him hung on your wall, he has his lips pressed on your cheek while you’re trying to hide your fluster with a smile. The picture was taken on the last day of High School and he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t one of his favourites. He finds you cute in this photo. 

His phone ringing catches his attention. He unlocks it and discovers a text from Lara.

Message from Lara to Jake, 8:37 A.M.:

I’m willing to hear you out, but just because I want some explanations. Is tomorrow afternoon okay for you?

Jake quickly answers her and confirms the date. He should be happy, Lara is open to the discussion though, he can’t help his heart to tighten in his chest, and he stares at the picture on the wall again. He shakes his head and brings back his attention to Lara. You’re part of his romantic past, even if nothing ever happened, Lara is his future. He has to think about her, not you.

The minute you come home from work that night, Jake tells you about his date the next day. You congratulate him with a big smile, though your heart breaks a little. Jake rehearses to you what he’s going to tell Lara to make sure he won't ruin his last chance and you assure him his speech is perfect.

“White lilies, those are her favourite flowers.” Jake says point blank.

“Then offer her some. It’ll prove you care about her because you remember a small detail about her.”

“That’s why you didn’t want me to take roses?”

“Exactly. If you are lucky and it’s her favourite flower, you’re good but imagine if she hates them because she finds them cliché, you’ll ruin your chances before opening your mouth, ‘cause on top of not being original, you just prove you don’t pay attention to her. Roses are the safe option, yet it doesn’t mean it should be your choice at the slightest obstacle. You’re already taking risks by coming back after six months of radio silence so go all the way, don’t play safe with roses.”

“You’re right.”

“I know I’m right! And please, please, please, don’t buy her flowers only when you screw up. Do it when everything is good between you. Do it even when there’s nothing to celebrate. It’s those kinds of tiny details that’ll make all the difference, it proves you care about her. Of course, it goes further than flowers but you get the idea, the fact is, you can’t let a routine get in the way and the only times you break it and you give her some attention is to make up to her or believe me, it’s the breakup for sure because she’ll feel abandoned.” you specify, saying your last sentence at an incredible speed and Jake looks at you suspiciously.

“Is everything okay between you and Scott? It sounded personal at the end.”

“We’re not talking about me but you.”

“So the answer is no.” he affirms, reading you like an open book.

“We broke up five months ago.” you sigh.

“What? Why didn’t you tell me? What did he do? He didn’t cheat on you, did he?” Jake questions, protective.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just after six, almost seven years of relationship, we lost ourselves in a routine and we realised we were together out of habits not out of love. Besides, we argued more and more for useless things. It’s better like that.”

What you’re not telling Jake is that there is another reason. Scott was sure you and Jake are in love. No matter how many times you said your crush on Jake was only when you were a teenager and that Jake never loved you like this, Scott never believed you. Your friendship with Jake was the main argument between you and Scott.

“You should have told me sooner rather than pretending you were fine when we were on the phone.”

“Don’t worry, I got over it. Let’s talk about you and Lara again. You didn’t tell me a lot about her.”

“In my defence, I never thought I’d go further with her.”

Jake replies to your several questions, but he can’t help and think back to the information you just gave him. You broke up with Scott, something he didn’t think would happen. He was sure you were going to end your life with him. As opposed to your exes, Jake had to admit Scott did deserve you and it cost him a lot to say it, nonetheless he could see how Scott made you happy like he never could. Maybe this time Jake could make you happy? Jake pushed this last thought in the back of his mind. He agreed he had to leave you in the past. Jake can’t hope for a future with you when he’s about to win Lara’s heart again! He needs to stay focused.

Jake ends up leaving in the late evening to go to his place. You hug him and give him some encouragement for his date before closing the door behind him. That night, Jake struggles to fall asleep, completely lost about who he truly wants.

The next day as it is your day off and raining a lot, you stay home and clean your apartment from top to bottom. Music coming out of your phone, you wipe the floor with care when someone knocks on your door. You loudly sigh then put the mop back in the bucket and make sure it doesn’t fall before walking to the door whilst shutting down your music. Once you open, you surprisingly find Jake, soaking wet, with a bouquet of several flowers in purple tones.

“Jake? What are you doing here?”

“I remember.” he tells you as if you were supposed to get it.

“What are you talking about?”

“Prom.”

“What? Aren’t you supposed to be with Lara by now, anyway? And I thought you were gonna offer her lilies.” you question, after you understood what he meant.

“The flowers, they’re for you. I’m not playing safe, I know you love these kinds of bouquet because you can’t pick a favourite flower and your favourite colour is purple.” he says, handing you the bouquet, yet you don’t take it.

“What? Are you insane? Lara is the one you’re supposed to win over, not me!”

“That’s what I thought, too, but it wouldn’t have been fair to her. I still went to meet her and apologise for ghosting her though, she isn’t the one I want.”

“Jake, I don’t understand.”

“Can I come in?”

Without replying to him, you step aside and let him in. Jake takes his damped shoes off before walking to the kitchen entrance.

“I’m gonna get you a towel, I don’t want you to be sick. Make yourself a coffee to warm up.”

Whilst you grab a clean towel, you try to understand what’s happening. You didn’t expect to see him, especially with flowers. The second you go back to him, Jake puts his freshly poured cup down and takes the towel while handing you the bouquet once more and this time, you accept it. Without holding yourself back, you smell the flowers and tenderly look at them; you love them. Jake got it right. He’s proud of himself when he sees the soft smile on your face.

“They’re beautiful, Jake, but why?”

“Like I said, I remember. I remember what you told me during prom.” he specifies whilst drying his face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you lie, avoiding his eyes.

“I think you do. You told me you had feelings for me.”

You stare at Jake, confused. You were convinced he had no memory of that moment. In one second, your cheeks heat and you don't know what to do with yourself.

“I pretended to not remember because I didn’t know how to react and I’m sorry.” Jake admits, putting down the towel and taking a sip of his coffee.

“Don’t apologise, you saved me from a moment that would have haunted me until I die like this moment will.”

“I shouldn’t have ignored you.” he affirms, putting down his cup on the table. “You confessed something very important to me and by ignoring you, I broke your heart and mine in the process. I didn’t know it at the time but I also had feelings for you. I realised it too late, actually when you met dickhead number 1.”

“You mean Josh?” you ask, laughing.

“That’s what I said. Anyway,” Jake resumes getting closer to you, “I should have talked to you and not leave you in the dark. Your friendship means a lot to me and that night, I didn’t act as a good friend. Even if I hadn't had feelings for you, I should’ve said something and not let you deal with your broken heart alone. I’m sorry I broke your heart that night and if it’s not too late, I want to pull it back together. I never stopped having feelings for you. I spent years ignoring my feelings and every time I wanted to confess them, you were with someone else and now, it’s the right time. I want you, not an other girl, for worse or for better.”

“What about Lara? I thought you liked her.” you ask, trying not to get your hopes up.

“She’s nice but she’ll never make me feel what I feel with you. I would have never been honest with her if I had been with her. That’s why I never got in a serious relationship actually, you were always on my mind and I didn’t want another girl there. I wanted to try with Lara because I thought I had missed my chance with you so I wanted to move on, yet when you told me you and Scott were over yesterday, I knew you’d always be in my heart. That’s why I preferred to apologise to Lara without getting into a relationship with her. I could have never committed to her because I want to do it with you. I don’t know if you still have feelings for me and if you do, you’re probably hesitant considering my history and I get it though, I mean it when I say I want to commit to you.” he insists, looking you right in the eyes. “I’m not saying I’ll be perfect right away but you can be sure I’ll do everything to be. I know it’s gonna take some time for you to trust me but I will, forever and ever. I care about you, no, I love you and I want to do better for you. For once, I wanna be the good boyfriend and more particularly the man you deserve,” Jake states, putting his hand on your cheek, “the one who will buy you flowers at any occasion, the one who won’t abandon you, the one you’ll never get stuck in a routine with, the one who will make you happy, make you feel loved and who will cherish you until his dying breath.”

At the end of his speech, you’re at a loss for words. You didn’t expect a confession of love from him and you never thought Jake was capable of saying such beautiful things or even being serious about a relationship. Not knowing what to reply, you put your free hand on Jake’s cheek and kiss him with passion. He doesn’t waste a second to kiss you back. Among all the kisses he’s shared, this one is officially his favourite, and he hopes he’ll relive it every day of his life. His heart is beating fast in his chest while he brings you closer to him. As soon as you break the kiss, you look at Jake with eyes full of love.

“I never stopped loving you, Jake.”

Jake smiles as he hears your confession. He was very nervous when he came to your place. He was afraid he’d ruin everything, and he’s relieved to know he was wrong.

“Wow, your advice works wonders,” he suddenly says with a sarcastic tone. “Well, I improved your speech a bit but I approve of it. You really should get paid for your love advice.”

“I told you that’s how it works.” you affirm as if it was obvious. “That’s how you got the girl.”

“That’s how I got my girl.”

When you hear the emphasis on the pronoun, you avoid his gaze for a second, flustered. You clear your throat before speaking again.

“You should take me to a first date then.”

“Oh, I will. Any advice as to what to do on a first date? I have to impress this girl who means a lot to me.”

You both laugh then you bring Jake close to you again before pressing your lips on him, the second kiss even better than the first one.

Top Gun Maverick Masterlist

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Saving What Was Lost Part 8: Keep Me From Drowning✨

Pre-Outbreak! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: This fic just keeps getting softer, and I love writing in Joel’s POV 🥹 I hope you enjoy this one, lovelies. I put my whole heart into this one 🩷

Chapter Summary: Joel helps you brave the bath.

Rating: 18+ only MDNI

Word Count: 5.2k

Tag list: Soft! Joel, angst, yearning, dual POV, age gap (reader late 20’s, Joel late 40’s), mentions of violence and kidnapping, Joel helps reader take a bath, words of affirmation, slow burn

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

 The end of December comes to a rapid halt as white snowflakes fall from the sky. The ground is blanketed in a thin layer of snow, Christmas lights still strewn around the house. It’s that weird middle ground where it’s not quite the new year, but just about there. It’s quiet, still—just how he likes it. 

   Christmas was a little more bright this year, a little more merry now that you were here. Your smile was so wide when you helped make Christmas cookies with Sarah. Tommy and Maria were sprawled on the couch in a thick blanket, drinking eggnog. And Joel was just happily watching his little girl bond with the woman he saved. The woman he fell for.

   Oh, and the way your eyes went extremely wide when he brought you out front and showed you the brand new sparkling white Nissan Rogue he bought just for you? The look on your pretty face was priceless. You were speechless, dumbstruck, and he accidentally made you cry when he handed you the shiny keys. 

   “But I’m not… I’m not ready,” you had said, doe eyes glossy and bright. “And you… Joel. You didn’t. That’s not my car.”

   He just nodded his head up and down and smiled brightly at you, placing the keys in your palm and closing your fingers over them. “You’ll be ready. One day. And yes, it’s yours. Brand new, jus’ for you.”

   “But I…”

   “None of that, sweetheart. It’s a gift, so please, take it. I want you to have it. I want you to...” His speech was cut off by tears running down your face. He carefully, gently brushed one away with the pad of his thumb just as a tiny snowflake kissed your cheek. 

   Beautiful. You’re so fucking beautiful with snowflakes gathering on your eyelashes. Like a sparkling star in the night sky.

   Your eyes melted, and the look of pure wonder and awe made you shine that much brighter. You were glowing as bright as the twinkling red and green lights on the roof. You were shining all shades of the rainbow which made him smile just a little wider. Just for you. 

   It’s funny—that fuzzy feeling he gets in the pit of his stomach each time you smile. It seems to light him up, seems to make him feel weightless when that lilty laugh slips from your lips. He didn’t ask for much for Christmas. All he wanted was for you to have the best Christmas ever, and he thinks you did. 

   You seemed to fill the void in his heavy heart this season. The perfect Christmas gift, he thinks. 

   Nightfall slips across the dark skies outside, painting shadows across the white walls. The crackle of the living room fire pops every few seconds, embers flaring deep reds across the wood. He’s got his feet kicked up on the coffee table—one leg crossed over his knee, his phone lit up in the palm of his hand. It’s quiet tonight, a little peaceful. No calls to take, no runs to make. He can just kick back, relax, and watch the full moon light up the starry sky outside his floor to ceiling windows. 

   Just when he starts to ease into the leather of the couch, he hears your soft footsteps pattering down the stairs, squeaking with every step you take. When he looks up, his face drops when he sees you standing in front of him—your bottom lip pouting out, fresh tears in your eyes, a half-open bottle of lavender soap in your hand, a folded towel in the other. 

   “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he asks softly, afraid to scare you away. 

   You blink up at him and whimper out quietly, “I tried. I just… I can’t do it. I can’t…” 

   Before you shed another tear, he leans forward and sets his phone on the coffee table, eyes straight on you. “You need some help?” Your watering eyes and tiny sniffles make him weak. If it were up to him, he’d scoop you up in his arms right this very second so he could hug away all your fears. 

   The bottle of soap trembles in your tight grip, your pink lips just as shaky. “Please.” It’s barely a whisper, but it’s a plea, nonetheless. 

   “Alright, sweetheart. C’mon.” He pushes off the leather couch, throwing you an easy smile. And when he makes his way up the stairs, you follow right on his heels, your little whimpers filling the space between the two of you.

   Looking behind himself, he keeps glancing back to make sure you’re still there. But you are and every time he does, you’re looking up at him with big puppy eyes, so beautiful even through the shades of blues that try to swallow you whole. Even through all the trauma and affliction, the shadows can’t take your beauty. It can’t stop the potential he sees swimming in your eyes. 

   You’re gonna fly, just like he said. And he means it. You’re gonna soar like the invisible fairy wings you have spread across your back. You don’t see them, but he does—sparkling like the December snow, glistening with sprinkled glitter and gold. You’re gonna fly so high, sweetheart, he thinks to himself. 

   When he enters your bathroom, the fluorescent lights shine down on the evidence of your distress—the shampoo bottle knocked to the tile floor, the shower head dangling from the coiled cord, the clear shower curtain pulled halfway off the rod, another towel strewn across the sink. You certainly had a hell of a time trying to make it into the tub, but his face softens when he glances back and sees your trembling form from the open doorway. 

   “I’m sorry for the mess,” you murmur out lowly, your voice barely above a whisper, eyes cast downward like a dog getting scolded. 

   He takes a step forward and barely grazes his calloused fingers under your chin, till you lift your eyes to his. He sucks in a breath from how your eyes seem to be glowing against the fluorescents of the lights shining above the sink. You’re such a vision, even through the tears. “Don’t say that, sweetheart. You’ve got nothin’ to be sorry for.” Your bottom lip quivers as you stare in wonder at him, a soft glow casting his way. 

   You’re such a fucking angel. 

   “Here, let me.” He reaches out to grab the bottle of lavender soap from your hand and slowly starts to put the bathroom back in order—fixing the shower curtain, placing the shampoo and soap bottles on the edge of the porcelain tub, setting your towel in a neat pile by the tub, adjusting the shower head back where it belongs. 

   He feels you watching him like a hawk, your eyes fixed on every careful movement he makes like he’s an artist crafting a sculpture. When he gazes back after he’s got the bathroom in order again, his chest tightens when you look at him with that longing mirrored in your glossy irises. It’s like you’re reaching out for him, even though you’re standing still. Your eyes tell stories; he can almost grasp the edge of the first page, can almost smell the crisp paper turning, beckoning him to listen. 

   Taking his eyes off you for just a few seconds, he turns the clear faucet until hot water comes running out. Mixing in the lavender soap, he lets it fill to almost the top of the tub, the steam billowing out like winter fog over a glassy lake. When he cuts the water off, he turns back to you and nods toward the tub. “It’s all yours, sweetheart.”

   Your throat bobs, and there’s that look in your eyes again. The tears brimming to the surface, your lips twitching out a response. “Thank you, Joel.”

   With one more nod of his head, he takes his exit, but he stops at the doorway and turns, just inches from your shoulder. “I’ll be right outside, okay?”

   You gulp down on nothing and whisper, “Okay.” When he walks through the threshold and shuts the door, he leans against the frame of it, his head flush against the solid oak as he blows out a breath of relief. He believes in you, believes you can face the fears of your haunted past. One day at a time, he knows you’ll make it just fine one of these days. Whether he’s here or not. His chest stings thinking about you leaving, not being here one day. 

   Please, don’t leave. Stay. Just stay.

   He hears the hesitant splash of water as you slip into the tub from the other side of the door. It doesn’t take long to hear your shaky cries. Closing his eyes, he exhales slowly, tries to block out the waves of hurt you’re feeling. 

   It’s one of those bad nights. You don’t always have them. You’ve been doing so good lately. Not as many nightmares that tear him from his bed, not many meltdowns that send him running your way. You’ve made so much progress, but tonight’s one of those setbacks that keep you frozen in time. 

   Placing his palm on the door, he lets out a breath and prays you can feel his touch through the closed door. Just one calming, gentle touch that he desperately wants to give you. He’ll let it slip through the cracks, permeate through the billowing steam of the tub until it makes its way to your cheek. Just one caress. The back of his knuckles brushing against you. Would that be enough to let you know you’ll be just fine, that you’re safe with him?

   That’s the tricky part, the boulder that’s blocking the way in. He can’t touch you when that’s all he wants to do. Not in a sexual way, but in that gentle, loving way he so desperately wants you to feel. 

   You deserve to feel that. Deserve to feel wanted, important, beautiful, safe. And goddamn it, you’ll have those one day. If that’s the last thing he does. He’ll take all that pain and turn it into something beautiful—like the glitter of your invisible wings. Wings he sees. 

   Just as he takes a step forward, he stops dead in his tracks when he hears the faint trace of his name through the crack under the door. And then he hears it—your tears raining down into the bubbles, crashing like thunder through his entire system. With one hand braced on the doorknob, he waits for just a second. Just to make sure what he heard wasn’t ghosts whispering lies through his eardrums. But there it is again—the call of his name, a desperate plea to make the pain stop. 

   Without another thought, he’s ripping open the door to find you curled up like a ball in the tub—your head between your legs, back hunched, droplets of water dripping down your delicate skin. He tiptoes over, careful not to scare you, cautious not to spiral that fear that’s ingrained like a tattoo deep under your skin. 

   Dropping to his knees at the edge of the tub, he lets his elbows scrap against the porcelain, reaching out just enough to let you know he’s right there where you need him. “Sweetheart?”

   You curl in on yourself a bit more, letting tiny whimpers slip from your pretty lips. You don’t respond with words because you’re too lost in the fog of a distant nightmare, stuck under the roaring waves as your fears drag you under the dark depths where he can’t quite reach you. 

   He reaches out again, desperate to pull you free. “Sweetheart, hey. Look up. Please.” But nothing. No response, no movement. You’re just there. Trapped. 

   And so, he reaches once more, but to no avail. You’re too far gone. “I can’t reach you from there. Can you jus’ try for me? Can you move jus’ a bit closer so I can help you?”

   Still nothing. You’re there but really, you’re in a far away place. Trapped in hell, reliving those horrible images over that you had to endure all alone. 

   He shuts his eyes for just a second, breathes in the lavender scent that’s permeating around him. When he opens his eyes, he steadies himself and locks his jaw. His eyes flick to the bubble-filled tub and back to the door—like he’s tossing between one choice and the other. Another scan of his eyes, another deep breath. 

   Flip. Flip. He somersaults between what he should and shouldn’t do. Leave you in here all alone to sulk or save you from yourself. One more flick of his eyes to your curled-up body, and he’s making a conscious decision. He chooses to save you. He’ll always choose you. 

   Unbuttoning his blue flannel, he drapes it over the clear rack next to the tub, right beside your olive-shaded towel. His leather boots come next and then his socks. He’s left in only the white t-shirt that strains against his flexed muscles and a pair of old denim jeans. But he won’t take those off. No. That’d be sending a message—one he doesn’t want sent. So he’ll drown with you in the bathtub, soggy jeans and all. But this time, he’ll keep you floating at the top. 

   Slowly, carefully, he slips into the back of the tub, immersing himself under the bubbles while his jeans soak through. Far enough away from alarming you, yet close enough to reach you now. 

   You flinch at the splash of him, but you’re still so far gone that you barely register he’s there in the bathtub with you. 

   Let me help, sweetheart, he thinks to himself. Let me cover you in my wings and drown out the noise. Let me keep you safe. 

   “Sweetheart?” he murmurs lowly, barely reaching an arm out so he can catch your attention. When you turn your head and look up through your tear-stained eyelashes, your eyes widen a bit, like you never realized he slipped right in. 

   “Joel?” It’s barely a whisper, barely a scratch of a noise over your sniffling, but there’s something swimming in your glassy irises. A plea for help, like you want him to pull you in and hug away the nightmares of your past. 

   “It’s me,” he says gently. Another splash of a tear reaches the surface of the water, creating a ripple effect across the top. 

   You don’t move; you just stare into the void, roaming your eyes over his drenched clothes. “Your clothes. They’re soaked…”

   He gives you a soft smile and leans against the tiled wall. “S’okay. Nothing the washer can’t fix.” You just stare at him wide-eyed, your lips trembling as you take in his words—like you can’t believe he’d be so considerate because he’s almost positive no one has ever considered your feelings but him. 

   “Why would you do that…” And then the tears swim in your eyes like a whirlpool—uncontrollable where he can’t stop them. He knows. He knows no other man has done the same as he has with you. Instead they tore you apart, took advantage of your frail body while they could sink their teeth into you. 

   He reaches out to brush his thumb against your cheek, swiping a tear away as he gazes at you with sad eyes. “‘Cause I need to make you feel safe, sweetheart. I’d never…” He stops to clear his throat, to get ahold of himself before he breaks down too. “I’d never hurt you. Ever. I heard you call my name outside the door. Heard the plea in your voice and I jus’ knew you needed me. So here I am.”

   You blink back tears, registering his words as they slip through your mind. And when you finally come to terms with them, you give him a sad smile and hand him the purple washcloth. 

   Taking the damp material, he coaxes you closer, just so he can reach you. “C’mere, sweetheart. Slide back for me jus’ a little. There ya go,” he says quietly, letting you situate yourself between his open legs. Still far enough away not to have your back flush to his chest, just close enough to where you’re comfortable. He’s always been so careful about that—your boundaries. Always quick to put bright orange cones up when he needs to, but never willing to cross the lines. 

   The first brush of the washcloth across your back makes you flinch, makes tears well in your eyes, but it doesn’t go unnoticed. “Hey, s’okay. You’re okay,” he coaxes as he eases up and slowly draws the washcloth back for a second, long enough for you to nod that you’re okay. 

   Carefully, he strokes the soapy washcloth across your arms, gently gliding over old, faded scars across your back. But when he hits the crevice of a faint scar on the top of your right shoulder, you shudder. 

   “Hey, did I hurt you?” he asks carefully, like he’s walking on broken glass. 

   You shake your head back and forth, tears welling in your eyes. “No, no. Just…”

   He stops his movements, lets the washcloth drop into the sudsy bubbles, but he still hovers his fingers over where the scar is outlined with red. “Jus’ what?” He tries not to nudge, tries not to pry too far into the past, but he’s already standing with glass shards lodged into his skin. 

   With one more deep inhale, you let out a quiet sob. “The scars. They’re so… ugly. I can’t stand to look at them because they remind me…” you choke on your words but spit them out. “Remind me how worthless they made me feel. How unbeautiful they said I was each time they dragged glass and their nails through my skin…”

   His eyes widen in horror while you fall apart in front of him, hanging your head low while you tremble from the tears. He’s furious, enraged at every single man that ever laid a finger on you and made you feel like you were useless. You’re not just a body, not a woman who can be toyed with. You’re… amazing and so strong and so fucking beautiful. And he’ll spend every day trying to prove to you that you’re not any of those things they made you feel. 

   “Sweetheart…” He brushes the tip of his thumb against the faint scar, tracing it like he can just sweep it away. You flinch, but you don’t pull away. You just let his hand warm your chilled skin. “These scars may be deep, may fade with time, may always be there. But I want you to listen to me very carefully.” You tilt your head toward the right, enough to where your eyes meet his. You’re listening, so he continues on. “They do not mark you as worthless or anything else those useless pricks told you. The way I see it is, they show me just how strong and brave you are. How important and valuable you are. And jus’ how…”

   Your breath catches as you watch him dip his head down—so close to your scar on your shoulder, so close to knocking you off your center just once more. He hovers right over the jagged scar and ghosts his lips over the curve of your shoulder, just enough to scrape his lips over your skin. Enough to stay in a boundary, but close enough to whisper a kiss over the faded scar that tells you lies. 

   “How beautiful they make you,” he whispers out, breathing his promise over the dip of your shoulder, sealing it with the brush of his thumb until he leans back and drops his hand against the side of the tub. 

   The way your eyes stare back at him—tears swimming in your eyes—makes his chest clench. Those beautiful doe eyes that tug at his heart. You’re just silently watching him, drinking in his words, letting your own hand trace against the scar on your shoulder—the one Joel just brushed his lips over. And he meant it, every single word off his lips. You’re so beautiful, scars and all. Blooming flowers in a big green field, blossoms as bright as the sun. You’re sunshine—gold and angelic. That’s what he thinks of you. Pure sunlight. 

   After a few minutes of just looking at each other, you turn back around and let him continue stroking the washcloth over your skin. Letting his fingers lather shampoo through your hair, groaning as he works the suds through your scalp. He knows it must feel good, has to be nice to let someone else take care of you for once. 

   Take care of you. Is this the first time someone really did that for you? Is this…

   You interrupt his thoughts as he pours a bucket of water over your hair, washing away all the shampoo into the tub. “Joel?”

   “Hm?” he hums, repeating the motion once more with the bucket. 

   “How can I…” You struggle to find the right words to say. “The shower head. How do I… I still can’t take a shower. Still can’t stand to look at it. How do I break that cycle?”

   He pinches his brows together and drops the bucket over the side of the tub, his palm gliding over the smooth porcelain as he thinks. “Well, you jus’ take it one step at a time. And when you look at that metal shower head, you pull on a brave face and glare right back at it. And when the fear feels like it’s eating you alive, you growl right back and tell it you’re a force to be reckoned with. You’re brave and strong and powerful. It can’t touch you.”

   Slouching over, you tug your knees closer to your chest as the bubbles gather around you. “But I don’t feel brave right now. I mean, I couldn’t even start the bath by myself. Couldn’t even wash my own hair…” And then the tears start raining down like a thunderstorm, lightning wielding in the distance. The dark clouds are back with full force, but he won’t let them keep you covered.

   “Hey,” he nudges you, brushing the back of his knuckles over the middle of your back. “S’okay to have bad days. It’s okay to ask for help,” he murmurs as another teardrop leaks into the tub. 

   “I feel like I’m drowning,” you shakily whisper, letting the words run down the tile walls. 

   He closes his eyes for just a second, until his chest stops burning from the weight of your words. If you’re drowning then he’ll plunge under the cold waves and reach for you, until you’re safe on land. 

   Taking his calloused fingers, he gently brushes them across the scars on your back, carefully tracing each jagged line as he carves the word beautiful in place of those old scars. “You can stop treading water, sweetheart. I’ll keep you floating. You don’t have to fear drowning anymore. I’ve got you, sweet girl. I’ve got you.”

   And just like that, a few seconds later after his words have sunk into your skin, you’re slipping deeper into the tub but instead of letting your head submerge under water, you rest your head carefully on the top of his left thigh, giving up all your fears to the man that so graciously saved you from drowning. You relax into him, letting your wet hair hang over his denim-clad thigh, resting against the rock that’s kept you from sinking once again. 

   He lets out a long sigh, his lips tugging into a small smile as he gazes down to see you let your guard down just for a few minutes to fully trust him. It’s an intimate moment—a lapse in time where you’re able to fully take off your armor just for these few seconds. The world outside can wait. Because right here, in this tub, is like nothing you’ve experienced before. Your trust is so fragile, so very delicate like a piece of glass. But he’s proven his loyalty, proven he has no intention of hurting you. The only thing he’s done is made you truly believe there’s still good in the world. He’s good. Joel is. 

   He keeps still, afraid to move, afraid to ruin this delicate moment. But as the seconds tick by, he can’t help but to carefully let his right arm reach out, let his hand fall into your damp locks. And as slowly as he can, he cautiously starts to stroke the crown of your head, all the way to the back of your neck in repeated, fluid motions. 

   Intimacy is a scary thing, but this moment right now is sacred, so very affectionate. It could break at any moment, but you don’t move. You just close your eyes and revel in the feel of his palm tracing hearts across your scars, letting him stroke his fingers through your locks as you breathe in the woodsy scent that makes up Joel Miller. 

   His delicate strokes falter for just a second as he asks, “When’s the last time someone took care of you?”

   You open your eyes and blink a couple times, your mind blank when you whisper, “Never…”

   He gently brushes a falling tear off your cheek and nods. “Let me take care of you then, sweetheart. I want to take care of you.”

   Hugging your arms tightly around his calf, you curl your weight into him and close your eyes so no more tears fall. 

   Let me take care of you. Those words flood through your mind until all you can remotely think of are the softest brown eyes you ever did see. All you ever wanted was someone to care enough. You never thought it’d be a man like Joel Miller. But here he is—a giant teddy bear you never want to let go of. He’s exactly what you’ve always needed. 

   Soft. He’s so fucking soft for you, and you think you’re just as soft for him… 

   You stay like that for maybe half an hour, hugging your arms around his muscular calf and leaning your head against his strong thigh, enjoying the languid strokes of his calloused fingers against your scalp. Whatever cage that was holding you hostage minutes ago broke free whenever he ghosted his lips over your scar, calling you beautiful instead of the vile things those awful men called you. 

   Beautiful. Even through all the jagged scars and trauma, Joel sees right through them. He sees you. Not as a broken woman that can’t be fixed, but one that’s strong and fierce and full of potential. He sees you like no one else has before, and that’s more than you could’ve ever asked for. 

   “C’mon, sweetheart. Water’s gettin’ cold. Let’s get you up.” He unwinds your arms from his leg and reaches for the olive-colored towel, wrapping you in warmth while he helps you up from the now frigid water. You just gawk at him because his clothes are sopping wet, dripping down onto the bathtub mat, but he doesn’t even seem to mind. He only seems to be worried about you. 

   So you reach for another folded towel and place it in front of him. “Here, you’re soaked, Joel. Please, take it.”

   He glances down to your outstretched hand and slowly takes it, a warm smile reaching across his lips. “Thanks, sweetheart. You’re a doll.” You give him a half smile and hug the towel tighter against your body, trying your best to warm up. 

   When he notices you visibly shaking, he places another towel around your shoulders and rings out the water droplets that keep dripping down your back. “Better?” he asks after he’s taken the time to squeeze out the excess water in your hair. 

   You nod, throwing him another soft smile. “Better.” 

   His eyes fall to the blue flannel draped over the rack. He slowly reaches for it and stirs something over in his mind, until his eyes flick back to yours. “Here. You keep it, sweetheart. I know how much you like my flannels. Might keep you warm.”

   Your lips part in awe, your words lost as your fingers slide over the soft material. “Joel, no. I can’t. You’ve already—”

   He pushes it into your open hand and curls your fingers around it. “Keep it. You can give it back if you want, but tonight jus’ keep it. Okay?”

   As you tighten your hold on the blue flannel, you sniffle back a tear and nod, accepting the gift. “Okay.”

   A warm smile curls against his plush lips and then he’s sliding the back of his knuckles against your hand, an affectionate gesture that makes your heart clench. “Attagirl,” he smiles. “Well, I’m gonna go change into some dry clothes. I’ll come check on you in a few minutes, okay?”

   You nod and watch him walk off, leaving you alone with the sound of a draining tub and his soft flannel curled in your palm. Lifting the flannel to your nose, you inhale his woodsy scent, pretend you’re still wrapped around his leg while he strokes his fingers through your hair. You almost wish he was still in here with you—his hand gliding through your locks, words of affirmation leaving his lips. 

   He makes you feel so good—like someone who matters. Like you’re someone that’s worth loving…

   Love. Could he ever love you? Could you ever love him? You’re not really quite sure of anything nowadays, but you sure would like to try…

   After fussing with the tangles in your hair and raking the toothbrush across your teeth, you’re snug in Joel’s flannel with a pair of blue pajama bottoms to go with it. And when you slide back downstairs to see what Joel’s up to, you see he made you a cup of hot chocolate. But not just any hot chocolate. It’s Joel’s specialty topped with extra marshmallows and whipped cream—one of your new favorite things. 

   “Thought you’d wanna warm up with a cup of hot chocolate and maybe a movie?” he asks, hope filling his big brown eyes. 

   Curling your fingers around the warm glass, you give him a soft smile. “I’d love that.”

   With one more smile, he leads you into the living room and turns on the flat-screen tv, the fire crackling in the near distance. And when he hands you the remote, you push it back and shake your head. “This time I’ll let you pick.”

   “Alright, sweetheart. This time I’ll pick.”

   This time, you sit on the same couch as him, just inches apart. And halfway through, you start to doze off and end up sprawled over the couch, your head on his knee. You don’t miss those soft, light strokes of his fingers or the gentle way he says your name through the fog. This time, it feels like more. Feels like this is bubbling into much more than you would’ve thought. 

   Feels like your heart just made its decision that he was made to find you…

   He’s got such a soft spot for you, just like you do for him. Maybe this could be more. Maybe, just maybe, he’ll fall for you the way you’re falling for him. Slowly but oh so easily. 

   He feels like home. 

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[fcthots]

I log onto tumblr sometimes just to see your posts lol, and I love all the smut content, but I was wondering of you’d write something for a reader who isn’t feeling up to having sex one night, and they’re worried about how Jason will react but instead of being pushy about it Jason just cuddles the reader and affirms that they’re valid?

(I might be going through it a bit and feel this would be nice to read)

Thank you!! Also I think I needed this too lol

He was running on that post patrol adrenaline rush that leaves him looking for any outlet of release. Usually one in particular. You. He comes in through the window of the living room and lets his boots thudding on the ground be your warning. Before he even closes the window, his helmet is taken off his head and dropped to the carpet. He’s usually so careful about his precious equipment but desperate times call for desperate measures.

The clatter of his helmet is loud, much louder than his boots. You can hear it from under the water of your bath. You lift your head above water, and by the time you clear the water from your eyes, he’s standing in the doorway. His chest is heaving. You can see the tight coils of his fists, the lines of tension in the shoulders, the clench of his jaw. You know what he’s looking for.

But tonight isn’t the night for that.

You don’t stop him when he kneels on the ground by the tub and takes your dripping face between his hands, or when he kisses you with the enthusiasm of a starved man. His hands trail from your face to your neck and then trail down your collarbones, and down more. You pull away.

His hands stop. His face tilts like a confused puppy. There is a slight worry in his eyes, and unspoken what happened.

The words are hard to find. “I don’t um. I don’t think we should-. Maybe it would be-.” His hands trail down to yours. He holds them in his and gives a light squeeze, an encouragement, a go on. “I just don’t quite feel up to it tonight.”

He gives you a small smile, one reserved for you and you only. He gives your hand a gentle kiss, and then your cheek. “Ok. That’s alright. Ain’t nothing wrong with that.”

You search his eyes for any sign that he might be lying. You can’t find any but just to be safe, you ask, “are you sure?”

He tilts his head again and smiles. “Of course I’m sure.” He moves his body to make himself more comfortable sitting on the ground. He brings his elbow to the lip of the tub and rests his chin on his hand. “So what have you been up to while I was gone?” The easiness of the question makes you feel a little warm and fuzzy. There’s just something about the casual tone in which he says it, like he wasn’t planning to fuck you not even five minutes ago.

“I’ve just been in the bath.” You swirl some of the water around for emphasis. His nose scrunches when a few droplets of water hit his face. You try to hide your laugh.

“The whole time?” You were hoping he wouldn’t ask. You’ve had to rerun the water a few times after it got cold. You just couldn’t get yourself to get started for some reason.

“Yeah.” You watch the calculating and searching look in his eyes. He doesn’t ask why. You don’t want to explain, not right now.

“Do you want me to wash you? I don’t mind. If you’re ok with it that is.” He moves to sit on the lip of the tub. You just watch him.

“You wouldn’t mind?” He’s already answered the question, but doubt lingers in the back of your mind.

“I’d be happy to. My hands really need something to do right now. Washing your hair would help.”

You smile and nod as you bring your knees to your chest. You wrap your arms around them and drop your head down to watch him reach for the shampoo. Maybe it was something in his training, but that man is incredible at scalp massages.