#now he's being distant and it's always stressing me out when he does this

[eloquentlytired]

18+ NSFW. MDNI.

dreamlike — tommy miller x fem reader

warnings: slightly dark content, dark!tommy, smut, unspecified age gap but reader is over 22+, masturbation, handjob, cheating, tommy’s moral compass breaks down, unclothed grinding, surprise ending, sex outdoors, tension, maria ily this isn't personal I just rlly like ur man

notes: hi guys it's been 100 years I'm sorry ily + take this bc im ovulating 😎 tommy miller suddenly making me feel things bc of gabriel luna that's right. likes and reposts are appreciated🥹

“I don't think you've settled down quite just yet.” joel tells him one day while they're eating breakfast together. tommy glances, swallows then responds.

“I don't know what you mean.” but his eyes betray him as they return somewhere for the fifth time; at a distant specific table where you're reading some silly book again.

your food is yet to be touched while tommy’s and joel’s are nearly gone.

“tommy we're too old for this shit, you and I. you're my brother, I already know what you'll do before you even do it.” joel throws the bait and tommy bites it.

“I’m not doing anything joel except—”

“except eating Maria's food while throwing damn heart eyes at her.”

tommy hisses at joel’s truthful interruption, not so much at being interrupted but at the validation of those words.

“I’m just making sure she likes the food.” joel deadpans, tommy does the same right after because of his own words. gods, he is pathetic.

“fuck, just shoot me already.” joel shrugs at his brother's words and doesn't even try to hide the fact that he's grinning. “tell your wife, I'm sure she'll be delighted.”

tommy shakes his head and keeps on eating. he stresses over his thoughts so much that, lucky for you, he misses your piercing gaze and the bite of your lips.

he spends days trying to blame it on something other than him being a terrible person. the breakout, the virus, the living circumstances, the we need to work faster from Maria or that everyone depends on him for the hard stuff.

sure, tommy had chosen this in the first place but he doesn't even know if he wants whatever this is anymore. what does he want?

“mister miller!”

the tension leaves his shoulders as he watches you walk towards him, only wearing that favourite sundress of yours and an oversized jacket.

it's the first real summer that wyoming has felt since the outbreak. tommy only appreciates it because he's too lazy to gear up for winter.

“you’re early.” he says and finds himself smiling as you flop down beside him, sitting on the green weeds.

the snow is still melting but it doesn't make things less cold — but clearly you don't feel the cold he does.

“I helped in the kitchen so they let me off early.” you explain and tommy hums. he thinks about the past months when he'd found you during patrol, covered by the snow and nearly dead. he'd never ridden back home faster, urging for the medics to help you out and thank gods they'd done a great job. now you were here, a few months later, and trusting him more than anyone else while tommy was just a straight up bastard.

he fed you more than others, brought you new clothes that you might like and most importantly showed you his spot. that well hidden spot outside the fences which was an hour's walk away... it wasn't even special but it was spacious and quiet and a little cleaner — and suddenly he was calling it our spot instead of my spot.

for months you'd come here, chat with him and draw in your worn out notebook. the pages were running out and tommy made a mental note to find you a new one. fuck.

“what’s this?” tommy murmurs while his hand points at a very specific drawing on the left page.

he seems to pale while you just feel yourself growing hot. you'd drew him back in the cafeteria when he was looking at you, when he thought you were so unaware of his eyes but you always knew.

“I just—” you try to find the right words, or better yet the right excuse, but you can't. “I just did it.”

tommy catches on your tone as if you were afraid to receive a reaction. his reply surprises you.

“do I really look at you that way?” he asks and you nod, the strap of your dress falling off your shoulder clearly to test him.

tommy has never succeeded in any tests in his entire life.

you lay on the ground, indifferent about the weeds tangling in your hair. tommy’s face hovers over yours as he kisses you, one of his hands sneaking beneath your dress to squeeze your thigh and nothing more.

“tommy.” he swallows his own name from your lips, his lips kissing you feverishly yet the rest of his body doesn't dare move. tommy just sticks to laying beside you while his elbow achingly supports his weight.

he cannot trust himself to move, to slip between your thighs and only kiss.

the hand he's placed on your thigh earlier starts to retreat but you don't let it as you use both of your hands to capture his wrist.

“sweetheart.” tommy warns, his eyes blown wide with lust while his chest heaves up and down. he’s affected by this, feeling overwhelmingly lustful like he's young again, while also fearing the consequences of this. the aftermath of it.

for the first time you don't listen to him, pushing his hand between your thighs until his fingers come in contact with your soaked panties.

you hear him cursing beneath his breath, fuck this, as he touches you after what feels like forever.

he rubs you through your panties, his massive hand feeling the material soaking further as his thumb finds your clit. your head turns and you bury it in his chest while tommy just rubs.

his breath is hitched and he's in a far worse state than you for a different type of reasons. you drool on his shirt and throb against his fingers because you're excited, you feel good. on the other hand, tommy cups and fondles your pussy possessively while stressing over the limits. he can't do more than this — he shouldn't.

“can I touch your cock?” you whisper almost too shyly and tommy wishes joel would have just shot him when he had asked the first time.

your hand unzips his trousers and takes out his cock because tommy has obviously agreed, because it's your fault for looking at him with those sparkling eyes.

your foreheads collide as tommy touches you and you touch him.

his fingers eventually sneak beneath your panties because he wants it to be fair, you're touching his bare cock so he's entitled to your pussy right?— or maybe he really is just an asshole deep down.

nothing like the tommy that maria loves, nothing like the tommy that everybody respects. no, once again he's the tommy miller that only joel knows.

your fingers circle around his cock, feeling it at first, before caressing every inch of skin you can get. your eyes are on tommy’s as your foreheads keep touching and a soft smile occupies your face while you stroke his cock.

you're smiling and touching his dick and tommy likes it too much.

“you need a new notebook, don't you?” tommy asks through gritted as your fingers squeeze around his hard cock. because it's definitely the right time for conversations.

you nod, mouth slightly agape as his fingers circle your swollen clit and then dip between your lips, feeling you dripping.

“anything else?” he asks too softly while his nose brushes against yours, offering some intimacy that isn't just sexual.

“pencils?” you don't order him or demand. you ask because you care and tommy likes that you care in that way. it's always only if it's okay with you and that's exactly how he needs it.

“notebooks.. pencils.. whatever you say, it'll happen.” he slaps your pussy, not too hard, and you whimper.

you can feel your nipples hardening beneath your dress while your pussy simply leaks for tommy miller. your legs shift and you spread them.

tommy sways his hips, fucks his cock into your tight but soft fist and curses.

the summer breeze carries your soft whimpers and tommy’s gentle grunts. your hand strokes him a little faster as your thumb purposely brushes against his sensitive slit and you don't fail to notice the way tommy’s hips twitch when you do it.

the front of his shirt is a mix of your drying drool and his sweat but it doesn't bother him. his solid focus is to fuck your small fist and, of course, to pleasure you which is his first priority.

tommy can handle you, his middle finger circling your wet entrance slowly before he pushes in, the slide smoother than he'd expected. he adds a second finger minutes later, then a third.

you stroke his cock as he thrusts his fingers inside your pussy and for a while nothing else really matters.

the squelching of your cunt is loud and tommy curls his fingers inside you, reaching a place that makes you see stars. “tommy!” you gasp in that angelic voice and he goes a little crazy, fingers digging into your sweet spot as he becomes a little desperate with his thrusts.

your lower tummy shudders with delight and your thighs flex as his fingers thrust into your tight pussy recklessly, poking at those sensitive nerves every damn time.

tommy thinks you warn him about your orgasm but he's also not sure as he's too busy watching your face and your pussy reacting simultaneously. your eyebrows furrow and your mouth forms a small ‘O’ as your walls are suddenly gripping his fingers too tight, too deep.

you cum with a shuddering moan of his name and coat his fingers generously, becoming a spectacle. you squirt for him, because of him, and he'd draw out more if it wasn't for time running away from you two.

tommy seems confused when you push his hand away but then everything happens so fast. he can't stop it, he swears.

he watches as you roll to your side, your chest brushing against his, and slip his cock between your thighs. tommy can't breath when his entire girth slides between your pussy lips, soaking through, until his tip kisses your clit.

“no sweetheart—” tommy warns weakly but you're already moving, swaying. his cock is wet with your juices as it slides against your pussy, harder than ever, and he is utterly defeated.

“please cum on my pussy.” you mumble against his lips and he kisses you otherwise he might do worse. he satiates himself with this situation, sucking your bottom lip while thrusting his hips upwards and taking half of what he wants. something he doesn't deserve.

his balls swell and then clench as he orgasms, lowering his hips a little to cum on your pussy. he fulfils his promise, painting the surface white with his cum before resting his forehead on yours again. spent.

it's quiet for a long time as his arms remain lazily wrapped around your body. you melt against him, into him, and you two do your best to catch your breath.

when he looks at you again, the sun is setting right behind you and making you look surreal. you're like a dream while tommy is just there with a stupid smile on his face and half indecent because of what you've done.

then suddenly he doesn't feel real, his body is all too light before it gets incredibly heavy.

he hears his name being called out repeatedly tommy tommy tommy and he jumps, looking around with sweat dripping down his back.

maria stands over him as he lays on the couch because he's home — not outside the fence. not with you.

“I told you to cut day drinking with joel. he's bringing back old habits.” his wife tells him, pressing a kiss on his forehead before walking away.

tommy rises and stumbles to the window. the snow is still there, white and thick, while the red calendar on the wall reads December 25 like it's a fucking joke. like he'd never met you secretly in the spot that belongs to you and him.

reality hits hard as you pass by his house, that familiar notebook resting against your chest as you hug it preciously. you look at him instinctively, as if feeling his burning gaze, and you smile.

“merry christmas, mister miller!” you yell cheerfully and tommy nods, forcing his best smile.

miracles can only go so far and in the end, tommy can be content with just dreams.

[twistedpink]

Childhood crush with Azul? Poor things been in love since you were kids but all you’ve been doing is growing distant once you’ve both joined NRC 😞😞

AWWWHHHHHHHHHHHHH TY FOR GIVING ME THISS

Azul has had the biggest, cutest crush on you since kindergarten,, Now that he’s in college it’s only natural to get a little shy around you. His first “like like”, somehow brought back to him now that he’s finally worked hard enough to wow you!

Childhood crush!Azul that does everything in his power to impress you. Catering endlessly to what he’s sussed out your ideal type to be- But his benevolence only goes so far! His biggest mistake is not being vulnerable with you, and he refuses to address any times he lashed out at you during his “squishy and unfortunate” phase

Childhood crush!Azul can only pout and glare whenever you entertain customers aka do your job, it’s only allegedly that he gave you the job to see you earn a better income, and he swears you don’t get special treatment.. His gracious spirit gravitates to pretty faces in need, he can’t help it!!

Childhood crush!Azul that’s sooooo attentive towards you in your merform. He insists on inspecting your shiniest scales (or best tentacle!) regularly to make sure his “vulnerable employee” isn’t stressed with adapting to land living. If you badger him enough, it’s not too hard to sucker him into looking over your human form either :) Even a whisper of an especially webbed finger or achy bone after transformation will have him suggesting to play doctor <3

Childhood crush!Azul is so suspicious with any “new” friends (regardless of how long you’ve known them post-Azul), signalling hard that the two of you have a “unique bond” because of your history,, he still treasures when you held his tentacle and kissed it in grade school. Maybe he thought you were going to eat him, but he’s drafting a little something to keep that detail under wraps!

Childhood crush!Azul’s got the biggest chip on his shoulder about how much you know about him. You refuse to have a shadow to regulate your information sharing, and he could only sell you on your employment contract :( He’s practically insomniac overthinking how you’d react if he gave you one last proposal. A good businessman knows when to compromise, and from what he’s dug up you’ve always wanted a particular wedding band..

[sanakiras]

TIDAL WAVE OF LOVE

PAIRING — choi seungcheol x reader

WORD COUNT — 1.3k

SYNOPSIS — even the strongest of people break sometimes. you’re used to hiding your feelings; your boyfriend is there for you when everything gets too much.

TAGS — angst, self-esteem issues, fear of failure, mc has a bit of a breakdown :(( but also a lil comfort

NOTE — cleaning out the drafts! this is wayyyy shorter than my usual works but i still felt like posting it <3 i had a very stressful semester in uni before the summer break and i came across this video on twt of coups giving wonwoo a little comforting squeeze which i found very endearing sooo that kinda became the inspo for this!

THE MOMENT SEUNGCHEOL CALLS OUT A GREETING TO YOU FROM HIS KITCHEN, YOU CLOSE YOUR EYES FOR A MOMENT. it would’ve probably been wiser to have gone home instead of his place.

you greet him the same way, hoping he doesn’t hear the crack in your voice.

“how was your day?” he asks you once he’s returned to the living room, giving you a kiss.

you press your lips together. “fine. nothing special.”

the first thing he notices is the lack of eye contact you make with him. you’re also being considerably less touchy with him than usual, which he finds strange.

“everything okay?”

“yeah.” you put up a smile that doesn’t appear genuine in the slightest.

he figures you could just be in a bad mood — but that doesn’t seem to be the case.

he knows for a fact that it’s not with the way you’re trying real hard to hide your face from him. you only do that when you’re upset about something.

“baby, talk to me.”

“about what?”

the response comes out snappier than you meant it to. you two have been together quite a while — so he’s come to know that you tend to get a little colder and distant before the dam breaks.

you look at him so briefly to the point where he’d miss the motion if he blinked. the expression equals a silent apology.

of course he always does his best to give you whatever space you need. that being said, he’s also come to know you get into your own head a lot, and sometimes there’s someone who needs to pull you out of it.

you bite your lip in a pathetic attempt to hold back your tears. “it’s fine, cheol, just let it go.”

“well, i care about you, sweetheart. what’s going on?” he’s persistent but gentle about it. you have a habit of keeping your feelings to yourself and hardly ever letting anything out, which leads to everything just piling up and making things worse.

“i don’t wanna talk about it.”

the lump in your throat begins to rise.

“i can see that, but you’ve clearly got something you need off your chest. are you okay?”

you don’t show anyone when something’s wrong unless they mention it first. and even when they do, you’re hesitant.

it’s an exhausting way to live, but you still choose to do so.

it’s one of the reasons why you hate crying. your glossy eyes always betray you.

then you make — what you consider to be — the mistake of looking into his big, worried eyes once more, and you just completely fall apart in front of him.

the tears begin to flow before you can even comprehend it.

“it’s just—god, i don’t even know why i’m so fucking emotional, i just—” your breath shudders, the mildly angry expression that was previously on your face now nowhere to be found, “everything’s been so stressful recently, and i’m scared i won’t pass my classes, and i feel like such a slow learner compared to everyone else—”

he’s rubbing your back, just allowing you to you let everything out. he keeps quiet.

“i feel fucking fragile. and weak. every little thing is just too much right now. i’m sorry, i feel stupid.”

he lets you cry into his chest as his arms are wrapped around you, one hand softly rubbing the back of your head. “don’t feel stupid, baby. you can vent to me, always.”

the sound of your heavy sobs hurt him, because he feels like you’re always so hard on yourself, but he’s glad you’re releasing them. it’s healthier to let it all out than to keep it in.

“it’s just like i can’t breathe, y’know?” you mutter in the crook of his neck, subconsciously wetting his shirt with your tears, “i can’t take a single break ‘cause i’ll fall behind. i’m so tired. i feel like i’m not even smart enough to take the damn course, let alone pass the fucking test—”

once he feels like you’re about to start hyperventilating, he moves back to let him look at you. “long breaths. you’re okay, just breathe with me.”

he purposefully takes long, deep breaths, counting the seconds out loud to guide you, and it works. your breathing is steadying bit by bit, sobs faltering, melting into soft hiccups and numbness.

with dried tears and a slightly hoarse voice, you let out a sigh. “i just hate feeling so incompetent. for once, i’d love to feel smart. i wanna feel like i’m able to keep up as well as everyone else does, y’know? i’m… i’m procrastinating everything and i don’t know how to change it. it all sucks.”

“it’s not easy, baby. don’t be too hard on yourself.” he presses a swift kiss to your skin, and you hold him tighter, as if he were to slip out of your hold if you didn’t.

“it’s not easy for me. it is for them.”

“there’s nothing wrong with that. would you think differently if someone in your class had to put more effort into passing the course? you wouldn’t, right? because at the end of the day, you both make it to the finish line. that’s what matters.”

deep down, you know he has a point. you put the pressure so high on yourself, yet don’t apply the same logic to your peers.

you don’t really understand why.

“and you say it’s easy for them, but i know for sure that they put more effort into it than you might think. trust me. you’ll get to where you want to be, one way or another. if you take a little longer to do that than a classmate, who cares. it’s your life. i know you’ve worked so hard—” he twirls a strand of your hair between his fingers, “even if you don’t pass that class now, it won’t be the end of the world, and there’ll be another chance. you’ll get there.”

now there’s just a few last tears running down your cheeks. “except i’m worried that i won’t.”

“you will. and once you do, you’ll be happy that you got to that point because you worked hard and deserve that success. if not today, then tomorrow. yeah?”

you take a deep breath, exhaling slowly, the last shudders of your breakdown bubbling to the surface as your heart rate finally slows back to normal. “yeah. thank you.”

to show your gratitude, you give him a hug, which he happily embraces, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“anytime. i’m here for you.”

even the strongest of people break — but they can still pick up the pieces and start over.

do your best (but maybe not sometimes) <3

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

[snoopyhughes]

gave you too much but it wasn't enough (qh43)

In which you wonder if your relationship with Quinn might end in death by a thousand cuts.

This is my submission for the eras tour fic challenge hosted by @wyattjohnston and @comphy-and-cozy! I am thrilled to be a part of this event. I received DBATC, and if you know me you know any kind of angst is not my wheelhouse, but I was thrilled to get this challenge and try to create something angsty. It will never be unresolved in my world but hopefully this does the trick :) 2.5k words, fem reader, no warnings that I know of, not proofread.

When Quinn was named the captain of the Vancouver Canucks, you had never felt so proud.

Being with Quinn for two plus years at the time, you were over the moon to see the love of your life, your favorite person in the world, being given such an honor, an honor he worked so hard for, an honor you know he deserved. Quinn was one of the most dedicated people you've ever met. With that dedication of course, comes time. Quinn dedicated countless hours to improving his game, practicing with his teammates, working out in the gym, going on runs, anything he could do to be the best he could be, he was doing it.

Under the moonlight, as you and Quinn celebrated his accomplishment, he promised you that he wouldn't stray away. That his commitment to the team wouldn't outweigh his commitment to you. To being a loving partner. A companion. However, when you woke up, stretching your arm out to feel an empty bed yet again, despite knowing that it couldn't have been much past 7 am, you wondered what went wrong. What happened to cause those promises to crumble. His words to be empty, lifeless. Void of meaning. When did you and Quinn become a couple that told each other lies? Told each other things just because the other person wanted to hear them, not because they genuinely intended to fulfill them.

It was the start of Quinn's second season as the Canucks captain. At first, you thought it was too good to be true. Quinn was thriving in his new role, yet still being the perfect partner. Attentive and on time, compassionate and loving. Now, that version of Quinn is a distant memory, mocking you as you think of him.

It started after the holidays in Quinn's first season of being captain. You chalked it up to post holiday stress and all star weekend buzz, maybe even trade deadline drama. Then the all star game passed, and even the trade deadline. Shortly after you started blaming it on the playoff push, then the playoff loss. And now here you were in November, searching for answers, trying to figure out what happened to the love of your life who turned into a stranger right in front of your own eyes, with nothing you could do about it but watch it happen.

You got yourself ready for work, looking around in the bathroom, on the bedside table, and eventually the kitchen to see if maybe Quinn left you a note, a cup of coffee in your favorite travel mug, a bagel from your favorite bakery around the corner, a sign of his love, signs that he used to never leave the house without showing. Just as you thought, there was nothing. You couldn't even remember the last time you felt Quinn kiss your forehead before he left for God knows what. Another workout, another two mile run after the three miles he did on the treadmill, or locking himself in his office watching film.

Work came and went that day, taking the long way home, dreading going home to an empty house. You thought it would be worse trying to interact with the stranger you lived with, but the silence, the emptiness, the sterile, unwelcoming cold was always worse. You stared up at the traffic lights, wondering if others saw just how foolish you felt. Writing lines to a story that was long over. Grasping on to the book, hoping for a surprise ending, one that would make everything worth it.

To say you were surprised to see Quinn's Porsche in the driveway was an understatement. Usually on practice days he didn't get home until well after 6 pm. You unlocked the front door, not expecting much. Just because he was home, doesn't mean he wasn't locked up in his office, taking notes from last night's game. A game that you never bothered to go to anymore. You knew the other WAGs missed you, people speculated about your absence on the internet, always cruel and judgmental. You couldn't bring yourself to go. You had learned to despise hockey for taking Quinn from you.

You opened the door and were surprised to see Quinn in the kitchen, grabbing a snack. Quinn looked as surprised to see you as you were, almost like he didn't know where you were, or if he even remembered that you lived there. Quiet "hi's" were exchanged, Quinn leaving a soft kiss on your cheek then awkwardly brushing past you to go towards the fridge.

"I thought we could have chicken and pasta for dinner tonight. It sounded good on my way home, I hope that's okay," Quinn muttered out, but already getting a pot of water for pasta ready, as though it didn't matter what you truly wanted. "That's okay," you offered back. "I'm gonna go sit down and read my book. If you need me, just holler." You offered and Quinn gave a nod in response. You wanted to grunt and groan under your breath. How could this be okay with him? It was as though you didn't know him, despite him knowing everything about you.

You tried to distract yourself with your book, but frustrated tears welled up in your eyes. You wiped them away aggressively, not wanting Quinn to see you cry. He couldn't muster up simple greetings, and an I love you would be almost toxic coming out of his mouth. He didn't care anymore, that much was obvious. So why should you?

You didn't know how long time passed, but it was enough time for Quinn to come over with a plate of dinner, unaware of your state. Your heart swelled. Most days, you had been eating dinner at the table, the memories of the two of you loved up on the couch, enjoying your meal and watching your latest binge watch were long gone. It seemed that Quinn was looking for one of those nights, until he saw your tears. His face dropped, setting your plate down and kneeling in front of you.

"Everything okay, sweetheart?" He asked, trying to get you to meet his eyes. You shook your head. How could he be so oblivious? "Are you serious?" You ask and Quinn's expression changed, like you had hurt him. "What do you mean by that? Why would I not be serious?" he asked, causing you to shake your head. "Quinn, things haven't been right between us for months. You leave me everyday without saying goodbye or even kissing me goodbye, you act like spending time with me is the worst thing in the world. I never go to games anymore because I resent hockey for taking you from me. When you were named captain, I was so proud of you I could explode. Now I can't even bare to be in the hockey setting because it reminds me of everything you chose over me. Quinn, I don't even know if you love me anymore." You took a breath after getting it off your chest, but at the same time a wounded gasp came out of Quinn's mouth, like he was a wounded animal.

"You think I don't love you anymore? How could you think that?" he asked, clearly hurt by what you had said. "What else do you want me to believe, Quinn? I can't even remember the last time you told me you loved me. And beyond that, that you ever even showed that you might. I feel like I live with a stranger. You can't honestly tell me that you have felt satisfied in this relationship. That you feel that we love each other to the fullest, that we love spending time together. I haven't felt confident that you feel that way in a long time." At this point you both had tears in your eyes, Quinn feeling devastated by what he was hearing.

Of course Quinn wasn't 100% satisfied with your relationship. He wasn't delusional enough to believe that everything was perfect. He knew that hockey had been his number one priority lately, and he had been trying to make that not be the case.

"Baby, I know I haven't been putting you first lately, and I'm sorry for that. I truly am. But I feel like it's only been this way since the start of the regular season." This had you scoffing immediately. "You don't seriously believe that. Quinn, I could say I have felt this way on and off since January." This caused another hurt gasp to leave Quinn's lips. "Why didn't you say something..." he trailed off, hurt, but he knew the answer.

"I shouldn't have to beg you to love me, Quinn. I shouldn't have to tell you that you have been neglecting me, neglecting us. If you truly can't see what's been going on, I don't know how I can explain it to you. If you think that this relationship has been satisfactory for both parties, I can't change your mind of that. But I won't be treated like this any longer. I think we should spend some time apart." Quinn backed up as soon as the suggestion came out of your mouth, looking like he had been shot.

"You don't mean that, you can't" he gasped. "Quinn, I'm not saying I want to breakup. If I didn't believe this was salvageable, if I didn't believe you could fix this, I would just say I wanted to break up. I believe we can fix this, but I think some time apart would do us good. For us both to figure out what we're looking for and what we truly want. If we find that this is still what we want, that's great, I believe that we will make it work. But this, this... arrangement, this isn't working. I know you seem shocked and hurt, but I know you don't believe that this is working for both of us, or honestly either of us."

"I'll go stay with Petey, I don't want to be in your way," Quinn suggested and you shook your head. "It's okay, really. I can go stay with Brock's girlfriend. Since she lives by herself it won't be awkward for any of us. I do believe we can make this work Quinn, I just don't think we can do it in these conditions." You put your hand on his cheek and his face softened, leaning into your touch.

"Tell me how to fix it, please, I'll do anything," he begged, tears steadily streaming down his face. "I can't tell you that, Quinn. I want you to figure out. To understand where I'm coming from, and want to work to fix it. I haven't been perfect either Quinn, we can both work on this. I shouldn't have to tell you that spending time together once a month isn't enough. I don't know how it can be enough for you, either. If that's okay with you, then this just isn't going to work."

"I'll fix it baby, I promise, I'll do anything." he whispered, almost defeatedly but feeling much better. "I believe you, baby. I do."

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

The flowers started on Mondays. Each Monday, a different bouquet of beautifully arranged flowers arrived at your office. The message was also different each week but it always ended the same way: " I love you, I believe in us." You texted Quinn every week when the flowers came to let him know you got them and to send your thanks. After four weeks of flowers, you were sitting in the front room of Brock's girlfriend, Bella's, apartment, getting stuff done on your computer on a chilly Saturday afternoon. A knock on the door sounded, causing you to pause your work. You had been staying with Bella long enough that you felt comfortable getting the door. Not to mention Bella liked to sleep in super late on weekends, meaning you would be the only one to even be available to open the door.

Your heart sank to your toes as you looked through the peephole, seeing Quinn. He looked different. If your gut was right, he looked tired, a far away look in his eyes, almost as though he missed you as much as you missed him. You didn't want to believe it, wary of getting your heart broken. He was holding something in his hands, fidgeting with it as he waited for the door to open.

"Y/N, hi," Quinn whispered out, taking a step towards you. "Hi Quinn, it's great to see you. How have you been? Would you like to come inside?" You asked, causing him to shake his head. "I can't stay, but thank you for offering," he stopped himself, wanting to keep boundaries in between you two in order for you to be most comfortable.

"It's been a while since we've seen each other, and I wanted to come ask you something. I was hoping you'd like to come to the game tomorrow night? I was hoping this would be enough time, but if not it's okay." His voice was shaky, unsure, almost like he was scared of your response. "I'm not sure, Quinn. Won't it be weird that I'm there? I don't want to cause any drama." You said apprehensively. You were also nervous of what that step in your relationship would be.

"There would be no drama at all, babe. You could just sit with Bell in the stands if you would prefer that, but I know the WAGs have really been missing you. I heard Millsy's daughters have been waiting for you to paint their nails on intermission again," he joked, causing you to smile. His heart melted at the smile on your face, finally feeling fulfilled, that he made you happy.

"I'll be there, Quinn. You can put me in the box. Don't worry about parking, though. I'm sure I can catch a ride with Bella." You both smiled, joyful at the step in the right direction for the both of you. "I can't wait."

________________

For all the time you had spent at Canucks games, you never thought you would be so nervous about what to wear, but here you are. Finally, settling on a stylish Canucks long sleeve with no distinction of Quinn on the shirt, paired with dark jeans and sneakers.

Quinn played a great game, getting a goal and an assist, the Canucks winning 3-1. You were ecstatic. Being back at the games, with your friends, cheering on Quinn, just felt right. It felt like where you were supposed to be. When you met Quinn after the game, he couldn't help himself either, jogging up to you and wrapping his arms around you, lifting you up off the ground. "Quinn!" you exclaimed, laughing out loud. "You did so good!" You laughed as he set you back on the ground. "It's because you were here, my good luck charm." He mused, causing you to blush.

Before he could stop himself, Quinn asked: "come home with me?" Your breath shortened, definitely not expecting that to come out of his mouth. "Are you sure?" You asked him, heart racing at the idea of going home with Quinn, truly where you belonged. "I would want nothing more."

It felt at times that no matter how much you gave to Quinn, it would never be enough. But as you both grew and learned more about yourselves, you both knew that all you could give would always be enough for the both of you.

[healingpage]

vindicated (swear i'd never do it again) - choi yeonjun

ꕥ pairing: bf!yeonjun x afab!reader

ꕥ genres: smut, angst

ꕥ rating: 18+ mdni

ꕥ warning: dom!yeonjun, sub!reader, arguments, confrontations because they are adults, reader cries a lot, cheating (implied), make up sex, unprotected sex, oral (m&f.rec) multiple orgasm, fingering, riding

ꕥ wc: 6k

ꕥ a/n: i actually hate this... i've been gate keeping it since last year because of it but nevertheless enjoy

The noise of rain tapping on the windows corresponded with the racing beat of your heart. Weeks had passed since the previous arguments, yet the ensuing silence felt even more distressing. Yeonjun's brown coloured long trench coat still hung by the door, his cologne subtle yet persistent in the air—a harsh reminder of all that was left unsettled between you.

You sit on the floor of your shared apartment with legs crossed, browsing through the pages of a vintage photo album. Your eyes soften at the shiny pictures that seem like it quite narrates a tale of love that seems unstoppable for both of you. Yeonjun was smiling at a summer festival, his eyes almost closing as you guys were hit with warmth from the sun. You were right there by his side, kissing his cheek. Another picture captured you resting on his shoulder during a late-night train journey. At that time, your friends had playfully teased you about your inseparability, during your early stages of relationship, attached closely to each other’s hips all the time.

However, it seems that his love, you don't know, maybe it has faded as time passed. Like a withering flower that is waiting for a moment to shatter on earth, words that were once delivered with sweetness now carry a sharpness. Of course at first, the arguments began minor: late response to messages, any sorts of miscommunications that could have been resolved with an apology. Soon arrived the yelling disputes, doors being slammed, and evenings spent in different rooms. Yeonjun was always the avoidant type, rather than to sit together and talk he prefers to distance himself, stressing you out at the lack of communication.

As you are occupied with countless thoughts, you hear the door slowly being opened, causing you to look up abruptly. Yeonjun enters, his jet black hair evidently wet from the rain. He appears unchanged yet changed, his eyes bearing a heaviness that didn't exist previously. For a brief time, neither of you said anything. The atmosphere in the room was dense, laden with unspoken thoughts.

"You’re still around," Yeonjun eventually says, his tone distant.

"Now you don’t want me here? Where could I possibly go?" You coldly answer, hurt by the question, or his choice of words. Your hands quickly shutting the album and putting it down.

He moves a step closer, then two, then he is standing not even two steps away from you, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. "I was wondering if perhaps you… I'm not sure." His voice is toned down at the end, like he’s not sure what to say.

"Isn’t that what you do?" The resentment in your voice was unignorable, tugging at the string of his heart. "You are gone whenever situations become too tense, you always walk away."

Something flinches inside Yeonjun hearing that, but he refuses to look away. “And you always hold on too tight,” he counters back, his voice trembling. “Like you’re afraid if you let go even a little, everything will fall apart.”

“Because it will fall apart, Yeonjun!” Your voice goes up three tones higher, it even cracks, but you care less about that when you have tears welling up. “It already is. Can’t you see that?”

“What do you want me to do, Y/N?” he asks, his voice breaking as well. “I’ve tried to fix this. I’ve tried to be enough for you, but maybe… maybe we’re just not compatible.”

His words hang between, heavy and suffocating. It feels like he’s admitting defeat, like acknowledging the storm both of you trapped in will never clear. And God, does it hurt. The constant effort you make to understand him better, the lies he told to your face you turned blind eye into, the missed important dates.

“You think I don’t know that?” you whisper, your voice barely audible to him. “But even after everything, I can’t walk away. I… I love you, Yeonjun. Even when it hurts. Even when you hurt me, over and over. I can lose everything, but not you…”

Yeonjun’s shoulders droop, and for the first time in a long time, he looks guilty. He stares at your wet face, your disheveled form, your trembling hands. You never look so broken, his sweet darling, the apple of his eyes, his precious love appears like a broken piece of glass before him, it wrenches his heart thinking that it was from all his doings.

“I love you too,” he admits, his voice raw. You can feel his gaze soften a bit, eyes no longer angry. “But is love enough if all I do is hurting you?”

The question is like a stabbing knife to your heart. You both knew the answer, but neither has the courage to say it aloud. Silence fills the air once more, the rain pouring outside is like a brutal mirror to the storm inside your apartment.

Finally, Yeonjun closes the distance between you. He hesitantly kneels in front of you, his hands trembling as he cups your face. “I don’t want to lose you either,” he says, every word that comes up from his mouth shakes. “But I don’t know how to fix this.”

“Maybe we can’t fix it,” you replied, your tears spilling non stop now that he’s got his hands on you. It is obvious that his hand is cold from the freezing weather outside, yet it spreads warmth inside you as you lean further into his comforting, healing touch. “Maybe we just have to accept that we’re broken. But I’d rather be broken with you than whole without you. I don’t wanna give up on us, Jjunie.”

Yeonjun leans his forehead against yours as he hears the nickname, his own tears falling. You let him engulf you in his arms, arms brushing over each other giving you goosebumps on the realisation that you went on a week without him. His chest heaves up and down, relaxed heartbeat calming you down as you savour the moment.

“I am sorry, baby,” he is the first one to break the silence. You could not pinpoint whether he is sincere about it, but his eyes are telling you like you matter the most in his world. “I hurt you, didn't I? How’d you sleep this past week?” His voice laced with concern, tone so dulcet and sweet you feel like you are falling into a gush of sugar. Knowing you hardly fall asleep without him around, his mind floods with sorrowful guilt.

“Horrible, I missed you,” you come clean, him smiling so softly you would miss it if you weren't right in his hug.

“Poor baby, I missed her too,” he uses his usual baby tone to talk to you, stroking the back of your head while you find yourself closing your eyes at the comforting contact.

“Wanna cuddle?” He's asking so nicely, not even waiting for your answer as he lifts you up from the cold floor, wrapping your legs around his waist. He walks you both to your shared room, your heart thumping as you feel butterflies all over again. The room hasn't changed since the last time you guys slept in the same bed and room, clean simple beige sheets that Yeonjun had changed after your last intercourse being where you land on.

He's taking off his jacket, the only thing that he wears on his upper body being the black sleeveless shirt that drives you crazy everytime you see those on him. Your eyes that are set on him trembles a bit, forcing you to let out a cough.

“It's January. You shall wear something more warm.”

“I could warm up being next to you,” he's quick with his witty answer, already jumping on the bed again, pulling you yet again into his embrace. His face is buried in your neck, lips dangerously wandering around your sensitive areas you breathe deeply as you bite back a moan.

“Jjunie, I thought we were only going to cuddle,” you interrupt, yet you find your hands tangling in his strands of hair, noticeably longer since the last time you held onto them.

“Aren’t we?” his lips latching on your skin by now, gently sucking on the flesh before he lets go, leaving a fresh mark of him on you, reclaiming his territory. He retreats for a while, lips part as he hears the small gasp that comes up as you notice the hickey. “So beautiful…”

As you remain captivated by his alluring move, seemingly innocent as he keeps making out first, then his hands start to roam not only over but now under your clothing a little. He strips your top off first, fondling at your tits.

“Tell me if you don’t want me,” he pauses, looking at your expression. Your doe eyes look at him, a bit glassy. His stomach churns at that, just a moment ago, you were yelling at him but now, under him you could not deny his contact with your body.

“Oh—” you moan out, feeling every inch of your body craving for his touch more and more, you could feel your underwear sticking onto your entrance by now, your arousal grows greedier. “Yeonjun.”

“Am right here, baby. Tell me what you need.”

“Want you, need you, all of you, oh my god—” your words are cut at how he would make easy work of the tiny shorts that wrap you, he slips them off quickly, palming your ass before slipping off the lacy underwear too.

Then his shirt is off in a minute, before long you're staring at one spot on his chest, your voice that says his name shrieking. Yeonjun is confused at first, before he looks at the direction you are setting your eyes to. His eyes widen as you shove him away, your trembling hands pulling the comforter to cover your body.

“Was–was there someone else?” your voice comes up shaky, eyes glistening with tears that pools at your lower lid. Yeonjun is silenced, a lost look evident in his face. “Y/n…”

“Answer me!” Your tears are falling now, your heart crushed at how he’s not quick to reassure you, to deny your assumption, anything. The bruise mark on his chest, one that was not created by you. Sure, your relationship had been quite flimsy at times after a solid three years, but you never had a reason to doubt his love for you. Every time you argue, it was never about a third person. The third person has never come into the picture. “Did you sleep with her?!” you shout, Yeonjun flinches at the tone.

“Baby, I don’t–”

“Then, what the fuck is that on your neck?” you ask, squinting at a faint purplish mark near his collarbone. It was positioned enough to be hidden when he’s wearing a shirt, but now that it’s off, it’s so evident.

Yeonjun covers the hickey with his hand, the movements rushed and awkward. “Oh, this? It’s... nothing. Just a bruise from a fall,” he mumbles, avoiding eye contact.

“Let me see,” you say after a long silence, your tone firm but he can see the way your lips tremble. Yeonjun hesitates a little, but you reach out your hand, and he lets you inspect the spot. You feel your stomach turn as you lightly run your fingertips over it. You aren’t foolish, it was not just any bruise; it was distinctly shaped and coloured like a hickey.

Your heart drops as you feel the reality of the situation. “That has nothing to do with a fall. Be honest with me.”

Yeonjun’s face changes, and the room falls quiet for a brief period. Both of you, especially Yeonjun, feel anxious about the occasion.

He wobbles with "I... I can explain," but his words sounded unsure, and you feel that is an insincere answer. Like he’s hiding something.

Your head whirl with feelings of betrayal, rage, hurt, and disbelief. This has turned into the rifts in the trust you had established together, not simply about the mark. Your head feels heavy, turning down as you cry.

“It’s not what you’re thinking, y/n!” he’s also yelling now, frustration overcoming him. Guilt, sadness and anger mixed in as he breathed in, his own eyes wet. His heart breaks seeing your state, it’s not the first time he sees you crying but this time you look incredibly heartbroken, miserable and not just upset at him.

“Then, what, what would explain this, Yeonjun?” you are fully sobbing, words imprecise swallowed by your cry.

“I was just… at the club okay? I was drunk, I don’t even remember–”

“Fuck that!” you cut him off, your voice burst with fume. “Do you realize how this looks?! How does it feel to even think you might’ve cheated on me? You try to sleep with me when that mark hasn’t even disappeared?!”

“Baby,” he tries again, trying to get closer to you.

“Don’t baby me,” your voice cold as ice in line with the gaze you now give him. “I don’t know, I thought you would never do that to me. I would never find someone else as long as I’m your girlfriend, Yeonjun. So stupid of me to hold on to you, I should have left long ago, so I don’t feel this hurt, because now I love you so much—too much, it feels even more painful…” you confess, finding yourself laughing at the absurdness yet your tears keep on rolling non stop. “If you don’t like me anymore you could just tell me. I would pack my things myself so you don’t have to rub it in like this.” Sniffles exit your nose, the back of your hand become the temporary napkin as you rub your tears away.

His eyes softened as he reached for her hands, his touch warm but cautious. “Y/n, I’d never hurt you like that. I love you. Please believe me.”

You pull your hands back, turning away to hide the tears welling yet again in your eyes. But before you could retreat further, Yeonjun closes the gap between you both, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“Y/n, look at me,” he whispers, his breath warm against her ear. “You’re everything to me. I can’t stand the thought of you doubting that.”

You turn slowly, her tearful eyes meeting his. There is sincerity in his gaze that makes your heart falter, and along that, a little of expectation because you can still feel the love. It’s still there in his eyes, filled with it and warmth as he looks at you.

“Explain to me,” you say, trying to steady your voice but Yeonjun, knowing you through, could catch that you are still hoping for his denial, still hoping that it isn’t true what you see. With a regretful smile, he cups your face gently, brushing tears away, his fingers on you treating it as delicate as possible.

“Won’t you judge me?” he carefully asks, studying your expression as your brow rises in confusion.

“It depends,” you answer, short, simple and clear.

“Saturday,” he starts, “I was at Taehyun’s. I was stressed out about our fight, and then he persuaded me into going to the club. Relax a little. I had a drink, maybe two but I was so wasted, I don’t remember who was it, I don’t know her, it was a random girl there, I’m gonna be honest we make out a little, and she did this,” he pauses, touching the mark, before his gaze settles on you confidently this time, “Taehyun came up, and he dragged me out there, telling me all about it the next morning. He was meaning to tell you everything first, but I told him not to, because I want to settle things ourselves.”

“Why didn't you tell her you’re not single,” you complain, lips pouting as you contemplate the story, it seems believable but you don’t know for sure. “And why do you have to be so hot, people literally couldn't leave you alone.”

He softly laughs at that, before turning serious again. “I am sorry, pretty girl,” he apologizes, “I don’t know how to mend things that have already happened, I know I should’ve known how wasted I’d be and just head home.”

He then grabs your comforter covered waist, pulling your head to land on his chest, letting you wet it. Your sobbing grows louder first, hands reluctantly creeping up to touch his shoulders. “I am sorry, oh baby, you don’t know how sorry I am, it’s all my fault, should have stayed that night, just hold you close until you’re not upset at me.”

“What can I do to earn your forgiveness, tell me, gorgeous,” his voice is whiny now, almost pleading when your sniffles haven't stopped. The hand that is holding onto your back scatters random shapes on it.

“Then prove it,” you mumble, looking up to him again, your voice barely audible.

Yeonjun cups your face gently, you look very endearing with cheeks red, eyes swollen and lips pouting a bit, his thumbs brushing away the tears remaining on your cheeks. “I’ll spend my entire life proving it,” he says, the sound of his confession thick with emotion.

Your lips meet together in a tender kiss, one that starts slow but it quickly deepens as you could feel the desperation in his touch, the regret, the unspoken promise that he’d never betray your trust.

He lifts you effortlessly, carrying you back on the bed where you can place your head on the pillow comfortably. His hands roam your back as yours are tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. The tension between you dissolves into a shared need for closeness, for reassurance, for reconciliation, for love.

Seconds later, he's immediately invading your personal space, arms around you in a tight, needy embrace. He has his face nestled in the crook of your neck, a heavy breath that tells you he's relieved and something familiar, something that you hunch as love.

“Jun—“ he smashes his mouth against yours, tongue pushing past your lips, the taste of chapstick that you're familiar with, the one that he only uses during winter due to dryness. Desperate sounds leave both your mouths, you are whining while he's half groaning. His body pressed against yours, separated by the cover that hasn't left your body. When he finally pulls away from the passionate kiss, his eyes find yours, filled with affective and yearning.

“I missed you s’ much, princess, how did I survived a whole week without you,” he presses a kiss to your neck, tongue tracing the collarbone with a cherish that signifies his worship on you.

“Would you allow me, princess, I want to make it up to you, please,” he looks up at you with his big, puppy-like eyes, an expression so pitiful it’s admirable. The desperation behind them makes it difficult to say no. You aren't better, your whole body is craving for him.

“Touch me,” you let out a soft whimper, arching into his touch. "Please," you breathe out, and he happily obliges, the cover is off the bed instantly.

Then his hands travel down your sides to your hips, fingers digging in as if to keep you anchored to him. The hand then kneads the meat of your ass, your breath hitches as he goes down on you, nails digging into his arms as you inhale deeply as if committing you to memorise his scent.

“My girl’s so pretty,” he slurs out, before he dives into your pussy, your hand goes flying to grab onto his hair as he splits you open through his tongue.

“Yeonjun!”

“Sorry,” he murmurs against your inner thigh, his hot breath causing goosebumps to rise in its wake. He says sorry, but his action doesn't match the word. “Has been so long since I munched on this.”

Your toes curl, eyes thrown back at the way he is switching between licking and sucking, almost like that's the whole purpose of his life. his scruffy cheeks hollow as he sucks a hickey into the soft flesh of your inner thigh. He was right though, it has been a while, the pleasure is almost foreign to you.

“Are you still my girl?” he questions, sounding cocky like the usual Yeonjun you know. The sexy, intimidating confidence that has you weak in your knees every time. Your only response is a moan, causing his lips to turn into a smirk, “Of course you are, I‘m the only one that can get you this wet, baby. Correct?”

No longer able to give him a reply, he continues to work his mouth on you. His tongue is relentless, it is sucking onto your entrance, then it is swirling around your clit with increasing fervor. The pace is sloppy, uncoordinated, messy even sometimes, but it only serves to bring you higher to the excitement of it all. Each time he pulls back, you can hear his heavy pant in search of breath, feel the way his mouth lets out your name.

“Oh, Y’jun—” your mindlessly thrown words trail off into incoherent mumbles as you feel closer to the edge, bringing you the sensation. “So close, please.”

The urgency in your begging translates to him as an invitation to continue. The way your entire body is wound up so tense, unwittingly ready to snap. He moves his thumb finger to press on your clit, skilled enough to actually let another two of them be inserted in your pussy, curling them just right so that they’re pressing against that dangerous spot that has you seeing stars.

“Shit, you just got way wetter, you have been craving me that much, huh,“ he chuckles against your thighs, and he's not completely wrong. The way he's re-arranging your inside, it's like he's trying to prove a point, to prove that as much as he needs you, you need him too.

"Wanna cum, please," you gasp out, and then he increases the intensity, your thighs shaking like crazy before it all stops as your liquid gushes out. Yeonjun is more than glad to pick up some of it, slurping them from his fingers. His sexy gaze and your quivering ones meet, silent praises and apologies heard from the way he's caressing your waist gently.

“You haven't come yet,” your sweet voice echoes in his ears. You are still the bundle of love for him, always thinking of his pleasure when you were just crying betrayed by his trust earlier. With agony, Yeonjun is shaking his head, presenting you with a small smile.

“No, it's okay princess. I should be fine, let's go to sleep, hmm? You are tired, I'll hold you,” he's denying you, aware of how relaxed your body is after having your orgasm, you must be so sexually frustrated the whole week. On top of that he knows how bad your sleep was affected due to your argument. Your eyes have been drowsy for a while now, yet you find strength to get up, straddling his lap.

“Love shall go both ways, as much as I mean the world to you, you mean the same to me. What you want from me, I want you the same way too.”

Your eyes staring at him, the honesty in it clear as crystal. Your hand that he is missing so much takes off his pants. The skin against his feels so soft, you are moving a bit behind to kneel before him.

“You really don't have to, princess,” he's saying again, hands caressing your hairline. You look up to him with round eyes, determined to mean what you said earlier. In a brief moment, you are presented with his hard-ons, the sight making you drooling. He's denying you once again with the look in his eyes, so you confidently reply, “I wanna do this.”

“Fuck," Yeonjun breathes out, eyes twisting shut as he feels your warm throat enveloping him. He collects your hair in his fist gently, holding it as you swallow him whole. Your hands move to rest on his thighs, pretty acrylics pressing on it whenever another inch of him goes in.

The feeling of your mouth enveloping him has him pulsing in your throat, his lips part as lewd sounds of him moaning leaves. “You're doing so well for me, babe.”

You take the praise to relax your jaw, letting his tip hit the back of your throat. Your eyes water at the feeling, hurriedly tapping his thighs to let him know the cue. He tightens the grip he has on your hair as he starts to move your head on his length, forcing you to take more and more of him till your nose brushes against his pelvis.

He moves your head up and down, his thrust harsh as he makes you take his entire length then leaving only his tip before repeating the entire process, moaning out your name whenever his head brushes against your throat.

You know he is getting close—you could feel him pulsing in your mouth, as a layer of sweet coated his forehead despite the cold room, making him glow so charmingly. You inhale a deep breath, before sucking in your cheeks, humming his name around him, knowing it is exactly what it would take to throw him over the edge.

“I'm close, baby,” he pleads, inaudible chatters of moans follows after as you double your efforts, and as expected a few seconds later his release spreads through your throat as you continue to bob your head to swallow.

Yeonjun’s chest is heaving, his hair a disheveled mess as he leans his hand heavily against your head, staring down at you like you’d just knocked the wind out of him. You guys stay silent for a while, eye contact with each other being the only sole communicator.

And when you place your legs on either side of him, both of his hands finding their home on your waist, your hole wet and slick enough, ready for him, he’s once again starstrucked, the feeling's overwhelming like you’re made just for him. He bites his lip when you slide down with a whiny mention of his name, you stay still for a moment, and he's all but resist as he needs the comfort of you being wrapped around him right now just bad.

Your eyes could not help but trail down to the mark from earlier, upsetting thoughts taking over you as you encounter the upsetting thoughts again. Your eyes tremble with tears as you hold onto Yeonjun’s shoulders, you begin to sob again, the sight making Yeonjun uneasy as he’s even more apologetic when you are so clearly hurt by the smallest mark, yet the biggest mistake he had made.

"You're mine, you got that?" you sniffle, your touch on him soft but it feels possessive enough to Yeonjun at that point of time.

"Of course, all yours baby, only yours," he breathes as you part your lips, looking down on his neckline. Your eyes briefly glance over the hickey painted over his chest and it leaves the feeling of your heart throbbing in your chest. Unshed tears sting at your eyes, the sound of incoherent sob immediately puts him to sit up against the headboard, holding you close to him.

“I’m sorry, we shouldn’t do this, let’s just—”

“No,” you decline immediately, hands clasping together at his shoulder trying to push him back to let you be in charge. You bite back a sob, “I want to do this. Want this off you,” you snivel, looking pitiful and so eager to get the mark to be hidden by your own, your lip finding its way to his skin, sucking on it before your teeth sink on the same exact spot that leaves Yeonjun wincing in pain. He’s staring at you deeply now, heart wrenched as droplets of tears roll down your cheek in frustration.

"I should’ve been better, should’ve tried harder, I'm gonna make things right, love, I swear," he's spurting all his emotion out, hands scrambling to make their way to your thighs and helping you to move.

“Swear I’d never do it again,” he adds, his pillow-y soft lip rasps across your sensitive neck as he plants gentle kisses all over it. The action is filled with reassurance, infatuation, and warmth. Quite literally soft and tender, far from the agony that had filled your heart only moments before.

“There, princess?” he's asking, his tip reaching your sensitive spot, your voice exceptionally high pitched when you reply to him a yes.

He's much more attentive tonight. Usually sex with him was rough, which you couldn’t complain about or dislike, but there is something adorable about him being so soft with you that always made this a lot more enjoyable than usual. His kisses and praises doubles, along with the occasional apologies, his promise to do better. Your mind goes out from while to while, unable to comprehend the actual sentence that he forms. You are just glad he's holding you, grounding you from blacking out.

“Let me show you my love,” he helps you on your back, his dick sliding out for a while, smiling softly when you make a fuss for it, “I know, it's okay, baby,” comes out his mouth as he thrust up into you, sucking at your neck to leave a few more love bites.

“Faster,” you whimper, dissatisfied at the slow pace.

“We'll get there, so impatient,” Yeonjun chuckles, his hand brushing against your arms to settle into your breast, fondling it. Your desperate moans filled the room, the pace slowly building up. Your hand travels down to your clit, rubbing it before it gets shoved away by Yeonjun instantly.

Before you could question his denial, he whispers a stern “I could do that,” as you relax to his touch, his skilled fingers working its magic. You wrap your arms around his shoulder, pulling him into a kiss, moaning into his mouth as he brings you closer to your high.

He hums against your lips as you tighten around him when you reach your orgasm, peppering the softest kisses all around your face while his hands mapped out your precious body that he’s come to cherish so much. Someone as lovely, as flawless, and as serene as you is a blessing for a man like him, a man who is emotionally lacking and aloof. Your body shakes with the overstimulation, a small smile escapes as he slows the pace, tender and consistent thrust to relax you.

“You feel so good, baby.” His eyes trailing down your body to where you are connected, the base of his cock wraps with thick white rings of your arousal, and his mouth opens at the vicious sight. He watches closely for your expression every time he plunges forward; your hips moving to meet his, thrust for thrust despite your previous orgasm. “Pussy made for me, yeah? Missed me that much?”

Each harsh thrust makes your tits bounce and forces a moan out from you as a response. Yeonjun chuckles at your lack of words, the sight admirable for him. The pleasure on your part made it difficult for you to even make out his expression or words anymore, feeling like you are on cloud nine for a second and a second later you are back on ground.

“Gonna make it up to you, promise,” he’s mumbling in between his praise for you, left at his mercy as he draws various shapes on your clit to push you further in ecstasy, another orgasm creeping in as you hold onto his shoulder tight.

As you let go for him, the endless words of flattery along with assurance of the love he has for you acts as your company. He’s slowing down, waiting for you to come down from your high. As your breath and heartbeat falls into a stable rhythm again, he’s back to thrusting slowly, your breath hitches as you are flooded with oversensitivity, wincing at the intrusion.

“Shh… I’m sorry, just a little bit more, pretty,” his whisper sends relaxation, trusting him with everything as you nod, occasional whimpers leaving your mouth at the slight discomfort. You shift your entire focus on him as he reaches his release, eyebrows furrowed with a slightly opened mouth as you reach your hands out to touch him on the cheek. The contact subconsciously draws a moan from him, resting his forehead on yours.

“Baby,” he calls out, “I’m sorry, I love you.”

Your lips twitch into a small smile, nodding as you rub his cheek yet you say nothing. The silence is deafening, Yeonjun himself cringing as he pulls out from you slowly. None of you breaks the silence as he gets up first to clean himself, allowing you to take a small nap before being woken up by him, for the never forgotten aftercare.

“Do you mind if I sleep with you tonight? I wanna have you in my arms.” The question arises from him as he buttons your pyjamas for tonight. He takes in your cozy state, eyelashes fluttering as you look up to him. You rarely ever see his nervous state, he is a person that always exudes such kind of charisma, carrying himself with confidence, at least around you, yet he seems least intimidating, nervous and very cautious with that simple question.

He isn’t looking for grand gestures or dramatic declarations. What he’s asking for is something simple, intimate, and deeply human: the opportunity to lie beside you, to hold you, and maybe even to begin the slow process of rebuilding what was lost, piece by piece. For a moment, you let yourself believe that this time, it might be different. That he genuinely wants to start anew and make amends, not just relive the moments of the past.

“Of course, Jjunie. Hold me, and don’t let go.”

At your reply, Yeonjun nearly jumps, placing you snuggly in his hold, not missing the opportunity to land a kiss every each and a while on your forehead as you relax and allow yourself to doze off.

[usoinked]

Could you write a fic where us and Cody Rhodes have been working together for quite some time, he’s always been pretty stoic and silent towards you, the vibe is very tense between the two. Until one day at the arena in a closed off area they finally break the tension? (Please include some rough stuff?) pretty pleaaaaaaaaaaseeeeee

Don’t worry best friend I gotchu🤭

Tell Me The Truth (Cody Rhodes X Black Reader)

CW: 18+ MDNI, SMUT duhhh, Gaslighting, Rough sex, Creampie, Unprotected p in v, Homelander Rhodes, Manipulation, Choking, Crying (from pleasure), Begging, Squirting, Oral (m receiving), Cody is losing his sanity and taking it out on you 😮‍💨

Word Count: ??? Does it really matter sweetheart?

Cody Rhodes. Or should I say Homelander Rhodes, because that’s exactly who he started to remind you of. Ever since he’d teamed with Roman Reigns at Bad Blood, everything about him had been going downhill. He’d lost most of his friends, the locker room had started avoiding him, and then Randy got injured, courtesy of a piledriver from Kevin Owens. He lost K.O. as a friend in the process, and now, to make matters worse, he had a possible problem with Drew McIntyre and Seth Rollins on his hands. The only thing Cody had left was his title… the title he had to defend at Royal Rumble, along with the Winged Eagle Belt that Kevin had stolen from him after Saturday Night Main Event.

Cody was stressed, his mind a complete mess, and now he was lashing out at anyone who even thought about saying something bad about him. Cody used to be calm, stoic, and reserved—this version of him? He was unpredictable, volatile, and so much more terrifying. He’d go from smiling to suddenly being stone-faced, and you never knew what version of Cody you were getting anymore. He still wore his suits, but it felt like a ploy—like he was trying to convince everyone he was still the same person, when in reality, it was just a trap.

You’d been working with Cody for quite some time, and the tension between you two had been building for weeks now. He was always quiet, distant—no longer the man who used to check on you, give you advice, or congratulate you on your victories. There was no warmth in his eyes anymore, no kindness, just…unpredictability and distance. But you still believed, deep down, that maybe—just maybe—you could break through, get the old Cody back. The one who’d been there for you.

But that would prove to be a daunting task because now, he was different. The title was the only thing he clung to. It was the only thing that kept his sanity together—or so it seemed.

Tonight though, you were on a mission. You’d been searching for him for what felt like ages. Your heels echoed through the hallways as you scoured the backstage area, trying to find where he’d slipped off to. You asked countless people and you were either met with no answer or a simple nod of no in response. People took notice of how Cody was acting and started to stay away from him and not bother him out of fear of possibly being ridiculed or hit. After running around for a few more minutes, finally, you saw him—standing alone in a closed-off part of the arena, staring at his title with a look in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place. Blank. Empty. Detached.

You hesitated for just a second, then walked over to him. Sitting down beside him, you broke the silence, your voice shaking more than you wanted to admit. “Cody… are you okay?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer. His gaze remained fixed on the title, his fingers tightening around the strap like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. Then, his voice—low and harsh—cut through the silence. “I’m just fine.” He replied sarcastically before speaking again. “Does it look like I’m okay?” He didn’t even look at you when he spoke, but there was a sharp edge to his words, like he was just waiting for you to back off. His face tensed, his gaze still fixated on the title.

You swallowed, trying to steady your breath. “Cody, I…know you. I know when something’s wrong. You don’t have to pretend like everything’s fine, you can talk to me.”

He let out a small, bitter laugh, the sound cold and hollow. “Pretend? I’m not pretending anything. Pretending would be…”He trailed off, his eyes still on the title, his jaw tightening as if the weight of it was becoming too much. “It would be, hey Y/N you look nice today. I hope you’re ready for your match tonight because right now you look mighty unprepared”, towards the end his voice deepened and he had finally looked at you. But those eyes, there was no sincerity in them at all. In the beginning when he talked he put on that fake smile before his entire demeanor changed, that smile was a vindicative frown, his jaw was clenched, and his face was slightly scrunched.

Your heart ached as your face softened. This wasn’t the Cody you knew. The one who used to be kind, the one who’d been there through thick and thin. You wanted to help, but you didn’t know how. He was a different man now, someone you didn’t even recognize. But you couldn’t give up on him—not yet.

“Even though you’re going…through things, I’m still gonna be here for you,” you said softly, carefully choosing your words. “I’m staying here. We’ve been through too much together. You’re my friend Cody, I’m not going anywhere. I know you’re upset about everything that’s been going on with Kevin-“ but you got cut off, he didn’t let you finish and interrupted you with a spat.

“Friend? There’s no friends in this business Y/N. There’s no loyalty in this business, you know” he let out a soft chuckle once before letting his lips curl into a soft smile. “You…you’re really good at this. You’ll sit here and you’ll say we’re friends just to turn around and I find out you were betraying me the whole time. You don’t think I’ve seen that look you give to K.O. and Drew….hm? I know you” he said before standing up putting his title down, his eyes meeting yours as he bent down slightly. “And you can’t fool me” he said as he suddenly slammed his hand against the a wall behind you. “I see right through you.”

You jumped, your breath hitching as your breathing grew slightly heavier. “I am your friend” you said, your voice cracking in the process as you tried to stay unwavered. “I’m your friend and I care about you!” Your eyes started to water as you felt yourself getting angry, your heart raced as you stared up at Cody. A tear fell and Cody actually pulled back a bit before gently cupping your cheek, and wiping one of your tears away. “You think anybody cares about this? Tears? Really?” He said before pulling away sharply. “You’re an ass” you said sniffing as another tear fell. “What was that?” He asked in an attempt to egg you on. “I said you’re an asshole!” You screamed at him as you watched his expression go from blank to excited. His laugh echoed through the walls as he pulled his hand away from the wall and clapped. “See, see what I mean. You’re not caring, you’re not this sweet innocent woman you pretend to be. This is the real you.” He said before getting closer to your ear. “Do you hate me now, do you think I deserve this now?” He said as you pushed him away. “No! I don’t! I don’t think you should’ve teamed with Roman Reigns but I don’t think you deserve any of this! But I don’t deserve you taking your anger out on me either!” You shouted before Cody stared at you before giving a silent chuckle.

“No one deserves anything Y/N. No one deserves this!” He said pointing to his undisputed championship making you know who it belonged to. “You see that; it doesn’t have Kevin Owen’s name written on it, it has MY name written on those plates. My name written on that Wrestlemania 40 main event board. My name making history becoming a back to back royal rumble winner and you want to look…at Kevin Owens….that’s who you want to pay attention to.” His voice was quivering but his face wasn’t matching what his lips were saying.

His face had a mixture of emotions from anger to sadness, but his words came out as if he was distraught and jealous. It kept shifting but he continued to speak. “You’re just like him….you like him don’t you. Tell me the truth Y/N, I can handle it.” He said having tears well up in his eyes.

“I wasn’t looking at him because I like him! I was looking at him in disgust! For what he did to you, pile driving you like he did to Randy on Smackdown months ago! I don’t agree with what he did, why the hell would I?! I don’t think about him half the time! ”

Cody took a deep breath before those tears that were threatening to fall disappeared. He let out a laugh before gripping your shoulder with his hand causing you to freeze. “You really are something you know that.” He spoke before looking at you with a brief silence before letting words slip from his lips once again. “Listen if you really don’t think about him, tell me….no show me how much you think about me.” He said with a dangerously low tone.

You looked confused, your face held a mixture of curiousity and shock. “What?” You asked shifting your body before wiping your tears. “Show me how much you think about me, Y/N.” He said before taking off his tie and unbuckling his belt. “Someone will see you, what are you doing?!” You whisper yelled in a low tone looking around before Cody suddenly took your chin into his hand. “Did you not hear what I asked? Focus. You’re looking for nothing, no one’s here and we have four hours before the show. Even if someone did see, well they’ll just have one hell of a show now won’t they? Now…time is very important to me and my patience is wearing thin sweetheart.” He said his jaw clenching before brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. Your eyes met his and all you could do was lean in and place a gentle kiss on his lips. It was the only way you knew you could calm him down especially with him acting like this.

His lips were soft, a contrast to his attitude, but the taste of them just weren’t enough, your mouth opened before letting his tongue slide over yours. Both your saliva collided with each other as a soft moan broke the sounds of your make out session. You felt Cody get closer as you suddenly gripped his shoulders deepening the kiss, air running thin as Cody grabbed the back of your head pulling you closer. The kiss was intoxicating, it was heated, and your body was giving into Cody despite the attitude he was currently having.

Upon pulling away and attempting to catch your breath, you pulled Cody’s belt loose further pushing him back a bit before getting on your knees and pulling his pants down revealing the tint in his boxers. Your hands glided over the tint earning a soft moan from him. Cody’s head leaned back, his Adams Apple shifting a bit as his hands glided through your braids before gripping them the moment he felt the cold air hit against his cock due to you pulling his briefs down. Your face heated up at the sight of him, he was around a good eight inches, hard as a rock, some veins were visible and it was currently throbbing. Apparently all that arguing and tension didn’t help the fact that Cody was pent up and his throbbing cock was living proof of it. He needed a release and he wanted you to give it to him which you proudly accepted.

Upon wrapping your hands around his thick length, your tongue moved before your mind even thought about it. Dragging your tongue across his mushroom shaped tip and from the middle, back to the tip was enough to have Cody’s moans on cue. As you wrapped your lips around his cock and devoured it, the breathless sigh that left his lips kicked your mouth into overdrive. You wanted to hear more of that and with the way your tongue wrapped around the his length and how his tip pushed further and further towards the back of your throat, you did.

“Look at how good you look down there with my dick in your mouth, this isn’t so bad is it? I couldn’t ask for any better help than this…” he trailed on before his grip on your hair tightened as he began to thrust his hips forward chasing the feeling he got from your mouth being wrapped around him.

You gagged slightly, your mouth widening slightly to allow the slightest bit of air inside of your lungs that was currently being ripped away by the man above you. With the friction of his thrusts and the pace of you bobbing your head, your mind started to become blank. Saliva and spit were welling up at the corners of your lips before some of it began to drip down into the floor below. The hum you let out against Cody’s cock, caused his moans to only grow louder.

“You’re so good at this you know that? The next time you see him, I want you to fucking think about the moment you had my cock down your throat, salivating all over it, got it? Huh?” He begged before thrusting his hips forward once more, his balls hitting the your lips, the taste of cock literally covering your oral surface. His tip began to hit your uvula and you were gagging even worse and the air was getting rigid. Your hand slowly let go of his cock before both of them gripped his legs, clinging to them tightly. Cody’s moans grew shallow for a moment before getting more heavier as he suddenly let out a long drawn out moan from releasing into your mouth. The taste of the warm salty liquid on your tongue only made your pussy throb even worse, the wetness between your legs undeniable as you felt it drip into your panties. As you swallowed, you could only look up at Cody with doe eyes, full of tears threatening to fall again yet they didn’t…not yet.

This was originally suppose to just be a conversation of you checking on a friend and it turned into this. It turned into your knees being on the cold floor in a closed off section of the arena, with your friends cock down your throat as you salivated all over it. To make matters worse, you loved being handled like this, your pussy was begging for even more of his attention. That was the truth. You didn’t give a damn about his attitude, his gaslighting, manipulation, or the fact he was reminded you of homelander. He was just Cody.

The quicker you looked passed that, the quicker your clothes had come off and became scattered all over the floor along with Cody’s. His tie, shirt, briefs, vest, dress pants, and belt were in various parts of the hallway as well as your heels, dress, panties, and belt. And the quicker he had you against the wall with one of your legs wrapped around his waist, while the other one stayed on the floor. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, his cock diving in and out of your pussy, as your moans filled the little space there was between the two of you.

“You’re so tight for me, look at you and how much of a mess you’re making down there.” He said with a hint of seduction and anger. Something about him speaking like that turned you on even more as his hand slid up the thigh wrapped around his waist. SMACK. He suddenly gave your ass a hard smack which caused you to moan aloud just before biting your lip in pleasure. Your inner walls became a home for this man’s cock, nothing he could’ve done would’ve stopped this. He just made you cry not even an hour ago and within that same time frame you were preparing to cream all over him.

“You’re such a slut Y/N, crying and clenching around me at the same time. It just can’t get any better than that can it?” He asked, that smile quickly turning back to a slight frown as his other hand snaked its way up to your throat before wrapping around it. You were crying because of how good his cock was slamming in and out of your inner walls and because of intense build up of the orgasm that was on its way because of it. That’s how good it felt. How good he felt. Tears streamed down your face, the taste of the salt from them on your lips only added to Cody’s satisfaction of Cody and yourself because of how he reacted. “S-Shit! I’m g-gonna cum, you’re g-gonna make me c-cum!” You shouted to him feeling that knot in the lower half of your stomach constantly be pulled.

“Oh really? You’re gonna cum all over me yeah?” He said before he got closer to your ear whispering into it causing your legs to tremble as your nails dug into his shoulders. “Let go for me, let it all out” he said as he slammed his cock in and out of you even rougher, his hips thrusting forward as if he knew how greuling that tension was. The knot in your stomach kept getting tighter and tighter, each thrust tugging on it further and further as Cody kept whispering sweet nothings into your ear and moaning from his high approaching as well.

“Oh my fucking g..od” your voice was barely here anymore from how hard Cody was pounding you against the wall behind you. “C-Cody!” You screamed out his name feeling your orgasm quickly approaching due to his cock constantly pushing against your inner walls. The sounds of ragged breaths, moans, and skin making contact filled the hall way of the closed off section of the arena. The pleasure felt so good the tears from earlier stuck to your face and Cody wasn’t letting you wipe them away. He liked it when you cried, especially if it was because of him. “God? There’s no god here, only you and me. You feel who’s inside you right now? That’s not god, that’s me. So call to me.” His grip around your neck tightened as you struggled to breathe but the thrill of passing out while also meeting your orgasm was too good. You didn’t ask him to stop or hold on because you didn’t want him to. It was the smart decision but when it came to this Cody there were no smart decisions. What came with him was a changing persona, gaslighting, and good dick but that last option made you forget the first two even existed. You weren’t even able to think clearly as your orgasm suddenly hit you like a truck, your body trembling as you threw your head back against the wall instinctively. Your breathing was heavy as your moans came out ragged, Cody whispered in your ear as your body trembled against his. “Look at how honest you were with yourself, we’re gonna do that one more time yeah?”

Your eyes snapped open as he pulled out of you and forced you against the wall, your face hitting the semi-cold tile as Cody got behind you rubbing his cock against your wetness before sliding back inside of you again. Your legs trembled still from the orgasm you had before and due to the fact that you were sensitive however Cody wasn’t paying any attention to that. If it was one thing it seemed that Cody loved, it was overstimulation. But that was okay with you, because you loved it even more. He lifted your left leg up putting it over his shoulder causing your body to turn half way towards him. “Don’t look anywhere else, look at me.” He commanded before starting to thrust his hips forward once again. “W-Wait what if s-someone comes b-back here?” You asked while your body was moving back and forth, your entrance getting wetter and wetter by the second before you felt something…else. You knew what a knot felt like but this…this was something different. It felt similar to a knot but it wasn’t that and you could tell, Cody felt it too because he suddenly began to thrust towards a certain spot inside of you that made your one of your toes curl, it felt so good, he was making a mess of you, literally. “F-Fuck!” You screamed out as your legs trembled even more as a milky ring formed at the base each time Cody’s cock pierced in and out of you. With the way you used your eyes to silently beg Cody not to stop, it only fueled him more as his free hand made his way over to your clit, his fingers flicking over it back and forth. Your body jolted and there it was again, that feeling, but you couldn’t hold it back anymore, whatever it was it had to end somehow. As he kept flicking his fingers your eyes rolled in the back of your head as your hips bucked and just as Cody pulled his fingers away, you squirted everywhere. Your juices spilled all over the floor as the sound of ‘splatter’ and moans filled the halls. Your body jolted as Cody only gave a satisfied grin. “That’s what I wanted to see, that right there sweetheart, we’re not finished yet.” He said as his moans suddenly grew and his jaw clenched. As your eyes slowly made their way back to Cody, his face told you everything along with how sloppy his thrusts started to get. “Let it out i-inside me p-please! Uhnnn!” You begged, more tears forming from the amount of pleasure you were receiving.

“You want that huh? You’re gonna fucking take it too” he said before thrusting up into you a couple of more times before emptying his thick load inside of you. A gasp slipped from your lips as you looked down at your stomach, feeling the warm liquid pool inside of you. Cody’s cock twitched as he rode out his high, slowly pulling out once he stopped leaving a some of the liquid to drop out of you as your pussy pulsated, going from opening slightly to closing right back.

“So tell me the truth Y/N, who are you really paying attention to now?”

Fin❦

Authors Note: This song describes a person who feels like they're going insane and has a lot that they cannot express.

Note #2: Yeah, I’m not gonna hold you I didn’t proofread this so if there’s errors, I’m so sorry😭

@punksyeet @uceyliyahh @luvrsluxe @empressdede @sheaabuttaababyy @binnieaddict @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug

[anotherhomelanderblog]

The Ravishing (Part 1)

Summary: You've discovered a certain jar, so confront Homelander about it. He doesn't react very well. Content: Homelander x fem!Reader | established relationship | The Pube Jar(TM) | angst | nonspecific S4 timeline Word count: 1.4k Author's note: Hiiiiiii! I have a terrible blond man in my head who won't leave me alone! Someone please tell me why I've tackled this of all things for my first fic. 😭 This whole thing is actually about 8.5k, but I'm breaking it into chunks. There will be smut eventually, though not in this part. Generally speaking, I gravitate more towards angst. RIP.

One Two Three Four Five

Homelander is beyond stressed.

You know this – everyone within his general vicinity knows this – but what hurts is feeling like there’s nothing you can do about it.

The two of you have been together now for some time and are long past those awkward early relationship stages: when he returns to you, dripping crimson with someone else’s viscera, you do not ask him who or why. You listen if he tells you, while you rinse the gore from his locks – bringing him from hellfire back to sunshine. ­­­­­­

Your lover is a complicated man, and you accepted this a long time ago. You don’t want the simplified, Vought-approved Homelander. You want the entirety of him; but, nevertheless, stress has made him distant.

You will not blame Ryan moving into the penthouse for the dip in your love life. Ryan isn’t always here, and you’re not sure Homelander fully comprehends how mortifying hearing a parent fuck is to their child anyway. You won’t blame his criminal trial either, as the both of you have always known he is in no danger of losing.

You won’t even blame Firecracker, who you know throws herself at him at every opportunity she gets – you’re more concerned he might end up killing her at an inappropriate moment.

And yet, years of being made love to in every conceivable fashion – from every conceivable and inconceivable place – has somehow fizzled out to brief, passionless fucking in the dark in a matter of months. You’ve heard of the honeymoon phase ending, but surely you were already long past that. You’re aware men of a certain age can experience a decrease in libido, but Homelander is a very special case. Any sudden changes tend to worry you.

He still tells you he loves you, and you believe him. He’s still needy in the evenings, overwrought with whatever bullshit the day contained, his head finding solace in your lap. Your relationship is far more than just sex. But he is a busier man these days, with a busier man’s preoccupations. Countries, as you’ve gathered, don’t just tear themselves apart. Perhaps something had to give.

On the single occasion you tried bringing the subject up with him, asked if anything identifiable had changed, he smiled at you the way he does the cameras. His eyes turned manic, his cheeks drawn tight. There was no problem, of course there wasn’t. Maybe you’ve got a problem, if you think there’s a problem.

This means there very much is a problem.

You would’ve probed further, but he’s a slippery one; you came on his tongue at least three times before he was satisfied that you’d forgotten what was wrong. In truth, you just thought it’d be cruel to bring it up again after all his effort. You never forgot.

Since then, you’ve been forced to make do with the situation. It’s not as if he’s gone; it could be worse. You’re certain you’ve found your soulmate and live a life of morally dubious luxury. Your conscience is burnt clear by the proximity you have to him: this glorious light.

Things could’ve simmered like this indefinitely, had you not returned to the penthouse today to find something… unique. You’re sure there are the answers you’ve been pondering coiled up within your discovery, quite literally, but Christ if you don’t have a few questions first.

It seems your lover really is beyond stressed if he’s started collecting his pubic hairs.

Homelander returns to the penthouse in the late afternoon. His working hours have been less predictable since he took control of Vought. Whenever he comes home particularly early and agitated, you wonder if he’s cancelled his schedule off the hoof and stormed out. You wonder if the rest of the tower is alight with panic. You wonder why not a single one of them can cope without stretching him to breaking point.

You wonder how you’d feel if he killed them all.

Today, he seems fine, or as fine as he ever is. He’s already ranting at you about some cocksucker or other he swears he’ll fucking laser in half one of these days when he finds you waiting for him on the sofa. This is it: the reaction you must absorb.

There’s a moment pre-recognition where he’s just relieved to see you. It almost makes you regret the next moment. Almost.

When Homelander spots the jar on the coffee table in front of you, he halts in place like a machine deactivated, his cape billowing forwards on either side of him before fluttering still. He blinks several times in rapid succession, and then his face goes through a myriad of different emotions.

Shock. Dread. Disgust. Betrayal.

You watch them playing out in seizure-like fashion, sending every pre-approved facial expression he’s ever mastered into spasm. His mouth opens and shuts wordlessly. For your part, you try to keep your face neutral as he meets your gaze.

And then, in an instant, he’s absolutely fine again.

He clasps his gloved hands together tightly enough that the leather creaks and advances towards the sofa. His cape flares outwards behind him, adding to the impression he’s some sort of encroaching storm. He only stops when he’s so close you’re forced to tilt you head back to view him properly. He’s smiling – a pointed, sharp smile. It pinches the lines around his mouth and eyes into knife-drawn slits.

“Hey, honey,” he says, with a level of false cheerfulness even the public could pick up on. He waggles his eyebrows once, tilting his head towards the jar without looking directly at it. “Wanna tell me where you found that?”

His cheery tone drops an octave in warning. His hands unclasp to rest squarely on his hips. Homelander can be extraordinarily intimidating when he wants to be – you’d be a fool not to recognise that, however much you love him – but he hasn’t accounted for the fact you’re fluent in his tics. You see that strange emotion shimmering in his eyes.

He’s afraid.

You stay seated, letting him hold your gaze hostage. “It was on top of your drawers when I came in.”

His eyes narrow just fractionally at your explanation, but you know he can tell it’s the truth. You don’t want to point out the obvious: that someone’s been snooping about, and maybe he can’t always rely on his reputation to do the job of a good lock. He’d take this as an attack, you’re sure, a suggestion he’s started missing things he shouldn’t – he has, but the conversation really wouldn’t go the way you want it to if you got into that now.

The key with Homelander is delicacy. For a man with near impenetrable skin, his is awfully thin.

Slowly, you stand, bringing your hands to rest on his forearms, rubbing up and down the fake padding of his suit. He isn’t looking at you anymore, his expression drifting off, distant. That’s never good either.

“Sweetheart–”

He comes back to himself in the space of a heartbeat, like there’s a switch inside him. On. Off. On Off. What happens next occurs so fast you almost don’t process it in time.

He scowls and twists away from you, a red glow the only forewarning before his lasers sizzle in the direction of the coffee table and a perfectly aimed shot of heat explodes the jar apart, sending the lid flying. It’s almost cartoonish.

Though the outburst isn’t aimed at you, you jump all the same. He feels tenser under your palms as you both watch the molten glass shards bubble and steam on the table, cooling from their newly hot orange hue, burning their mark into the expensive surface.

Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you think about what will be big enough to cover these marks from Ryan. Do you have anything inconspicuous made from zinc?

Homelander growls under his breath – and then he’s gone from your grasp, thundering off towards the balcony, cape all aflutter. He wrenches the doors open with a thud you’re surprised doesn’t shatter their glass too. Then he’s off: up into the air, a furious blue pinprick growing smaller and smaller amidst the afternoon clouds.

The high wind at this altitude freezes out the penthouse, ruffling your clothes and reminding you of all the ways you cannot follow him. The scent of singed hair hits you in a sickening wave. You let out a breath and blink, pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Fuck.”

Sometimes, you can be as delicate as possible with Homelander, and it still isn’t enough to stop him cracking.

[jennifer-jeong]

Reader plays LDS game and little does she know that the boys can feel her emotions whenever she plays it or whenever she gets the card or memories of her fav boy for example-Zayne and the other two gets jealous idk and how they wish to be real and be with her.......

HELLO I'M SORRY THIS TOOK ME A HOT SECOND I was stressing and thinking about how to approach this but I think I got it now >:) (also school and life is kicking my ass but we don't talk about that)

Fluff | LADS x GN!Reader "Virtual" Boyfriend

Rafayel sneak peak LMAOOO^

CONTENT Fluff, slight angst, gender neutral reader, Rafayel crack, mentions of the boys trauma, CHARACTERS ARE 18+

What I’m thinking is that the boys are conscious within the world of your phone. They can feel you and hear you but they can’t quite see you. You’re almost invisible in a way but they can feel your energy when you’re present. They feel it when you poke them in destiny cafe or touch them in the kindled memories. They hear your voice when you speak in game. They’ve lived the lives outlined for them in their lore and you’re who they’ve been searching for. They’re restricted in what they can say to you when you interact, it's some weird force they don’t understand. They know when you’re online but the same weird force prevents them from finding you, you have to go to them. (Zayne lives both lives of doctor and dawnbreaker, which he is happy about. He would’ve passed away if he had to be the one of two Zaynes to be dawnbreaker)

XAVIER hates that whoever made this world made him suffer for like a century only to have him find you and you aren’t even actually there. But he still loves feeling you there everyday, even if he's not the one that got chosen to sit in destiny cafe. Whenever you listen to his audios or interact with him through cards, destiny cafe, or playtime, his hands are shaky. It’s the only thing that he actually gets to express to you of his own free will. They shake because he’s so nervous but excited to finally be with you. He’s a patient man, he’s willing to wait for you everyday, he just wishes he could be where you actually are ): . He’s a smart man with an excess of free time, he’ll figure out how to get to you, someday.

ZAYNE has spent his whole life in this world in love with you. But now that he’s got you, and he can’t even see you, he’s started to accept that you’re just always going to be out of his reach. He loves when you do visit though, it makes him feel so warm. When you interact with him, he wants so badly to just be able to freely speak to you and tell you how much he loves you. His character is pretty cold because that is his personality, but when he sees you, he desperately wants to stop being distant with you, he wants to tell you all the soft and warm things he has to say. He wants to be where you actually are, he’s sick of basically just being Dawnbreaker Zayne where he just dreams of you and never gets to see you. He’s solved so many mysteries in the medical and wanderer hunting world though, he’s probably genius enough to figure this one out too.

RAFAYEL has been looking for you this whole time and is so frustrated that he found you and can’t even freely speak to you. Rafayel often ends up in glitches in the game because he desperately wants to break out of his confines and just talk to you. Every time you interact, he’s trying to find some way to tell you he loves you and that he’ll always be here no matter what. He gets pretty jealous when he doesn’t get to sit in destiny cafe with you, he doesn’t know who exactly sits in his place but he wants to be the only one you have eyes for, the only one that you touch, even if it’s not quite “touching.” He’s already lost everything he has except for you. He’s willing to do anything to get to you, he just hasn’t figured out how to do it, yet.

Rafayel glitch collection:

+ THIS video LMAOO

Personal follow up hc that they can interact with you when you daydream of them!!! It’s the only way they can reach you and feel you properly. Pretend they eventually figure this out and you live happily ever after !!! (cope)

Photo credits from twitter! https://x.com/nonbiriotome/status/1754530273033683337?s=46&t=Y5PdanktIFDztaAr8_sv4g https://x.com/miyabi_lad/status/1754318127339639244?s=46&t=Y5PdanktIFDztaAr8_sv4g https://x.com/zaynerei/status/1760258500746445149?s=46&t=Y5PdanktIFDztaAr8_sv4g https://x.com/xaviersdaily/status/1759516449758908615?s=46&t=Y5PdanktIFDztaAr8_sv4g https://x.com/yubeljin/status/1752770210124210303?s=46&t=Y5PdanktIFDztaAr8_sv4g https://x.com/nonbiriotome/status/1759228703186227235?s=46&t=Y5PdanktIFDztaAr8_sv4g

|| MASTERLIST <3 || Thank you for the ask and for reading! ||

[minuutvanverval]

Open Your Heart

description: things aren’t going as well as you thought they were between you and your boyfriend. one night, coming back from a night out with your friends, joost is blatantly ignoring you, and you snap.

words: 3k!

warnings: angst, fluff, rpf

a/n: based on the song ‘open your heart’ by europe! i love europe with all my heart :)) another sad fic bc i can’t seem to write anything else

<3

The rain had started soft,, but it had grown heavier as you walked, the dim streetlights reflecting in the puddles. The air smelled like wet concrete and cheap cigarettes. Laughter and muffled music from the bar down the road still echoed behind you both. Your arm was linked with Joost’s, fingers lightly grasping around the fabric of his jacket sleeve. He had both hands in his pockets, keeping himself warm in the cold november rain.

“And then - no joke - he looks at me, dead in the eyes, and says, ‘You know, you’re too pretty to be doing this kind of job.’ Like. What the fuck does that even mean? I just - that wasn’t the worst thing he said.”

Joost huffed a breath that could’ve been a laugh. Or a sigh. You couldn’t tell.

“I mean, I’ve been tattooing for six years,” you went on, voice rising, a little sharper than before. “People fly out for appointments. I don’t need some fucking walk-in telling me I’m ‘too pretty for my job’ or that ‘I’d be better staying at home serving a man.’”

Joost made a sound in his throat. Noncommittal. Distant. His gaze wasn’t on you. It was on the glistening road ahead as the rain started to fall harder. You slowed your pace just enough to make him notice.

“…you’re not even listening.”

“What?” His head jerked slightly. “I am.”

“You’re not...”

He looked at you then, blinking like he was only just realizing you’d been talking to him.

“I was just thinking-”

“Thinking?” You cut in, pulling your arm free. Your skin felt colder the moment you let go. “I was telling you about this dickhead and you were somewhere off in fucking space.”

He stopped walking. “Jezus, okay. I zoned out for a second.”

“It’s not you zoning out, Joost. It’s every time I try to talk about something that matters to me, you just… drift off. Or stare at your phone. Or change the subject.”

“That’s not true.”

“It isn’t…? What did I tell you the other day about the new apprentice?”

The silence was loud.

“Exactly.”

“Fuck, okay, I’m sorry I’m not great at remembering every fucking-”

“No, don’t do that,” You snapped, stepping back. Your voice cracked, slightly. “Don’t act like I’m asking for too much.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

The wind shifted, carrying the rain sideways now. It crept beneath your collar, down your spine. Joost moved both hands in his jacket pockets and looked away.

You could see it in the way his shoulders rose - defensive. You knew that look. Knew the way he closed up when things got too serious. When the mood shifted from light and easy to something raw and real.

“Why is it so hard for you to just… be present?” You asked him, voice softening. “Why do I always feel like I’m talking to a fucking brick wall?”

His breath came out rough. “You’re not talking to a brick wall. I’m tired. I’ve got shit going on, too. I just don’t whine about every little thing that happens.”

That landed like a slap.

Your brows furrowed, lips parting slightly, a slow silence stretching out between you both. “Wow,” you whispered. “You think I’m whining?”

He looked at the floor. “I didn’t mean-”

“No, you did.” You stepped back again. “You think I’m being dramatic. That I care too much.”

“I didn’t say any of that.”

“Again, you didn’t have to.” You muttered.

“You know what I think?” Your voice trembled now, less with anger, more with heartbreak. “I think you’ve been pulling away from me for weeks. And I keep letting it slide because I told myself you were just stressed or busy or whatever. But this?” Your gestured between him and you. “This is just… unfair. Me trying. You drifting.”

Joost looked like he wanted to say something. But he didn’t. He just stood there, soaked and silent, raindrops on his glasses.

“I feel like I don’t know how to talk to you anymore. I… I needed you today. I needed you to hear me. What he said really hurt me. I wanted you to make it better...”

“I don’t know how to do that…” he admitted.

“Then why did you ask me to be your girlfriend? That’s - just… basic communication. If- if you can’t do that… I just-”

The pause that followed hurt. It was like… he wasn’t even trying.

“I’m gonna go,” you muttered quietly.

Joost frowned. “You don’t have to-”

“No, I- I’m gonna go.” Her voice wavered. “I can’t keep pretending this is okay. That I’m okay. I’m not.”

“Please don’t-”

You stepped back.

“I’m sorry, Joost. I-I’m done begging you to see me.”

You started walking. Rain poured harder now, soaking through your jacket, plastering your hair to your face, but you didn’t care. Your boots hit the pavement with purpose, sharp and steady, echoing in the wet night air. You didn’t look back.

He didn’t move for a long time. Just stood there with the weight of it all settling in. Eventually, he kept walking home. Shoulders hunched, soaked to the skin, his footsteps slower than before.

The rain didn’t let up. It turned colder, heavier, soaking through your jeans, your socks, everything. You kept walking, past the next block, past the glowing blur of the main traffic lights, past quiet apartments with curtains drawn and the hum of televisions behind windows. You didn’t even know where you were going. Your phone buzzed in your pocket - probably a message from one of the friends you’d left at the bar - but you didn’t check it. You didn’t care to. Every step hurt started to hurt a little more. Each one pulled at something heavy inside your chest. Like you were walking through water, dragging the weight of the conversation with you. The way his face looked when you started to turn away. How cold he must’ve been. How you could hear the silence between you louder than anything else around you. You hadn’t meant to explode. Not really. You just wanted him to listen. To care. And you knew he did - somewhere deep under all that distance and defensiveness. That was what made it worse. God, you’d never argued before. Maybe it was because you’d only been together just under a month. You never thought the first argument would hurt so much.

What if it’s something deeper? What if something deeper was going on with him, and you hadn’t cared to ask because you’d been so wrapped up with your shitty clients all week. What if you were the one being ignoring him? God, he was too sweet for you to be treating him like this. Too sweet.

You stopped.

Your feet moved before your mind caught up, like instinct, like your body knew where to go even if your thoughts hadn’t agreed. You turned on your heel, boots squelching, and started to walk.

Not home.

To him.

___

Joost’s apartment was dark from the outside. Third floor. Warm glow barely leaking through the edge of the curtains.

After you pulled yourself up the stairs, clothes heavy with rain, your hand hesitated in the air for longer than you wanted to admit before you knocked.

It was stupid. You shouldn’t have come. He probably didn’t even want to see you. You should’ve-

The door opened.

Joost stood there in a hoodie and sweatpants, hair a mess from the towel he’d probably dragged through it, a half-drunk glass of something in one hand - probably alcohol. He didn’t say anything.

You were soaked. Arms crossed tight over your chest, dripping on his welcome mat, hair clinging to your cheeks. Your lip trembled. - but not from the cold.

“I-“ Your voice cracked immediately. You looked down. “I’m r-really sorry.”

Still, he didn’t speak. Just stared at you, completely unreadable.

“I didn’t mean to blow up on you,” you whispered, eyes fixed on the stitching of your sleeve. “It wasn’t fair. I shouldn’t have thrown it all at you like that, in that kind of weather - e-especially after we’d just had a night out. I just… I don’t know.” You sniffled. “I didn’t know how else to say it.”

The silence stretched just long enough to hurt before he stepped aside.

“Come in...” He muttered quietly.

You nodded, moving past him into the apartment. Warmth hit you like a wave, stinging your cold skin. You stood awkwardly in the entryway, shivering slightly, avoiding his eyes. Joost closed the door. Locked it. But still, he said nothing.

You peeled off your wet jacket and shoes, leaving them in a sad puddle near the mat where he’d pointed. Your socks left little prints on his floor. The living room was dim, only the kitchen light on. It was quiet except for the faint hum of the outside world.

“Bathroom, you’re dripping all over my floors.” He muttered.

You followed him wordlessly. The towel was already there, hanging messily on the rack like he’d used it recently. He pulled it down and stood in front of you.

Your eyes flicked up to meet his. You expected him to speak. Maybe ask if you were okay. Maybe scold you for walking around like that in the cold. But he didn’t.

Instead, he reached out gently and pressed the towel to your hair.

You frowned.

The gesture was soft - shockingly so. He cupped the back of your head and slowly worked the towel through the strands, careful not to pull. His hands smelled like soap and faint cigarette smoke. You didn’t realize how much you missed being cared for by him until just then. Joost still didn’t say a word. You felt yourself trembling - not from the cold anymore. From guilt. From the weight of everything unspoken.

When he was done, he handed you a clean hoodie and some sweatpants from the bedroom. You took them without question. Changed behind the half-closed bathroom door while he stood in the hallway.

When you came out, he was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, looking tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of thinking about how to fix it. He pointed back into the bathroom. You followed him back into the bathroom, the towel still in his hand. Your reflection startled you. Your eyes were pink and glassy, your face pale. You pressed your hands to your face, trying to breathe steady.

Then you felt it - his fingers, ever so carefully gathering your hair again, towel drying the ends.

And that was it. You broke.

Tears welled up faster than you could blink them away. They dripped silently, slowly down your cheeks, your sleeves. You clutched the edge of the counter, head down, trying not to sob.

Joost frowned. “Hey…” he said softly, and that single word undid you completely.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, voice cracking open. “I was just so tired. I was hurt and I didn’t know how to say it without sounding selfish, and I shouldn’t have left like that. I shouldn’t have walked away.”

You turned, looking at him through blurry eyes. His reflection was frowning, but not in anger. Concern. Sadness. Guilt, maybe.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel like shit,” you added. “I just - sometimes I don’t feel heard. And I don’t know how to ask you for what I need without sounding like I’m too much.”

Joost reached out again, slower this time, wiping a tear off of your cheek with the edge of the towel. He looked at you like he was trying to find the words. Trying and failing.

“You’re not too much,” he said finally, barely above a whisper. “I’m just not enough sometimes. And I… I shouldn’t told you I wasn’t doing great.”

Your chest ached.

“I don’t want you to think I don’t care. I do. About all of it. About you. I just… I don’t know how to share my pain with you just yet.”

“I know. I’m sorry for - not being more understanding.”

He wrapped the towel up and threw it somewhere in the direction of the laundry basket. “I’ve been in my head a lot,” he admitted. “Stupid shit. Work. Music. Pressure. I didn’t even realize how didtsnt I was being until tonight.”

You nodded, sniffling. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I didn’t want you to think I was starting to fall out of it or something,” he said, like he thought it was a silly thing to think, voice rough. “Because I’m not. I still feel the same. I just… forgot to show it.“

You let out a shaky breath. “I need you to meet me halfway. You’ve gotta talk to me about these things, sweetie…” You move a hand to his face, stroking it softly, comforting him through his vulnerable moment.

He looked at you then, properly. “I can… I just… I haven’t done this in a long time.”

You studied him, waiting to see if he meant it.

He took a breath. “I will. Honest.”

And then he reached for you again - this time with no towel, no barrier. His hands cradled your face softly, thumbs brushing where your tears had fallen, as if it physically hurt him to see you crying. It was the first time he’d seen you cry. You leaned into his touch instinctively.

“I’m also sorry, for not listening. Regardless of what’s going on in my head. For making you feel small. You’re not. Not to me. You’re always the loudest person in the room - and I… I mean that in the best way.” He almost laughed.

You laughed through tears. “You’re really bad at compliments.”

“I know.” He smiled faintly. “But I’m trying. My English still isn’t perfect.”

You smiled up at him. “That’s all I wanted.”

There was a long pause. Then he pulled you in, slowly, letting his arms wrap around your shoulder as yours found his waist. You buried your face in his chest, as he rest his cheek on your head, cradling it softly. Your fingers gripped the fabric of his hoodie like you were anchoring yourself.

“I don’t want to lose this,” you whispered.

“You’re not going to.”

“Even if I drip all over your floors again?”

He smiled. “Especially then. Little footprints all over my apartment. So sweet...”

You stood like that for a long time. So long that the rain had slowed, and started up again.

“I’m still cold,” you muttered.

Joost pulled back just enough to look at you. “Come to bed. Please…”

You nodded, heart swelling.

He led you into the bedroom, flicked off the harsh overhead light and switched on the small lamp by the nightstand. You crawled under the blanket while he tossed your wet clothes into the laundry basket. He slid in beside you, laying on his side, opening his arms to you. You moved closer carefully, and nestled against his chest. His hand immediately found his way under the hoodie he’d given you, stroking your waist softly. Despite how cold you’d been, you still felt warm to him.

You lay there quietly, his arms wrapped around you. His hand moved in slow, absentminded strokes along your waist; needed the contact. The rise and fall of his chest under your cheek was steady, grounding, as was his comforting heartbeat. Outside, the rain hadn’t stopped. It tapped against the window in a gentle, constant hush, a quiet lullaby for two of you. You both loved the rain.

Neither of you spoke. You didn’t need to.

And maybe it wasn’t perfect again yet, but his arms were around you, and you were warm again, and for the first time in a long while, it felt like he wasn’t somewhere else.

He was here. With you. And that was enough.

a/n: him towel trying your hair 😖 i can’t 😖 he’s such a sweet boy really 😖 i also apologise for not having the ability to write happy fics

[kissitbttr]

What happens if reader and Miguel get into another fight (it could be their first or second or anything really, whatever you prefer!) and it was like…bad. REALLYYY bad, like it effected reader mentally and physically. So they just leave and don’t come back.

I’m not sure if your comfortable with angst with no comfort but if you are can you do that?? And don’t forget to take your time!!

baby, i hope this is angsty enough.

Miguel and his architect!wife having their first argument

—

She knows not to ever pushes Miguel’s buttons. Especially when he has been working himself under pressure. But that’s the thing, she never wanted him to feel stressed or see the look of exhaustion across his face because it breaks her heart.

Her love language is taking care of him. Always. They both made a vow to always be there for one another and she’s never been the one to break a promise. So does Miguel.

Yet it seems that the past two weeks have somehow… changed.

He becomes distant. Colder. She notices how he keeps dodging her touch. Brushing her off with his hand while grunting a ‘i’m busy. later’ when she wants him to join her in bed. And it truly makes her heart torn because he had never been like this. He’s always so affectionate, if not clingier even. So what happened?

“Miguel? Baby, you need to rest. You’ve been dwelling in those paperworks for hours. Come on, my love” She smiles softly as she steps into his working office, tugging her silky robe closer against her body,

No response. His eyes only focuses on the scattered papers below him. Fingers furiously typing away on his computer.

She pretends not to be hurt when he chooses to ignore her. Bare feet finding themselves walking closer to his desk, she crouches down slightly to meet up with his eye level,

“Mig—“

“Not now, cariño . Go to bed”

His voice harsh. Whether he means it or not, it still makes her sad.

“I can’t” She frowns. “I want us to go to bed together. We haven’t done that in a long time and tomorrow is Saturday. Our day. Please?”

Miguel exhales heavily, removing his glasses before chucking it on the table. He straightens his posture, arms crossed over his chest as he shoots her a look.

A look that she had never seen before being directed towards his wife. One that she almost jumped out of fear.

“You do realize that i’m working right now? That me” He points at himself, voice growing harsher by the second. “Miguel O’Hara. Doesn’t need a break. He needs to work! And he would appreciate it if his wife stop being a fucking nag!”

That one cuts too deep. But she’s raised to always stand on her ground. To stand up to any man who ever tries to done her wrong. And that includes her own husband.

Despite how much that hurt.

“A nag?!” She asks in disbelief. “I’m being a nag because i care about my husband’s wellbeing?”

He chuckles. But she finds no humor in it. Empty. Just like his eyes.

“And i cooked for you” her voice lowers, gulping as she wraps her arms around herself. “Made you that carribean dish that you love so much, yet you didn’t even touch it. I even walked to the bakery and bought a blueberry pie. Sofia misses her daddy too, you know that?”

She hopes the mention of their daughter would eventually help his emotions decrease but somehow, his expression remains the same. And it only hurts her more, what he chooses to say next.

“I didn’t ask you to do that. And stop bringing Sofia into this as if it would help me change my mind. It won’t” He crosses his arms. He sure doesn’t mean it. Of course, he doesn’t. But he’s got a lot of things on his mind and he needs to take care of them now.

“What is going on with you?” She asks, both concerned and upset. “You have been acting like a complete different person lately! Avoiding me like a damn plague!”

“I do not need this right now, Y/N. Go!” He yells

But she won’t back down. Hard headed as always. “No! Because i need you to close that fucking computer down, tell Lyla that you’ll work on it later and come back to bed! It’s almost eleven!”

“Fuck!” He roars, slamming his fists against the table making you jump. “It always has to be an argument with you isn’t it?! ‘Miguel this, Miguel that. Miguel come back to bed, i’m fucking clingy and i need you right now!’” He mocks her, earning a very frightened look on her face but he pays no mind to it,

“Dana was never like this with me” He grumbles, mentioning his ex girlfriend’s name. “She knew her boundaries and let me do my fucking job. Definitely didn’t fucking nag me like what you are doing now. You’re making me regret my choices now”

And it hurts. Real bad. Because all of the time they had spent together before this argument, he always reassured her that she is the one for him. That no woman had ever came close to steal his heart and make him feel the way she does. Not Xina, Tempest or even Dana. Miguel may had the longest history with Dana but none of it matters because he has her.

Now? She doesn’t know what to believe right now.

She’s heartbroken. Face falling and her shoulders slump in defeat. The tears begin to form in her eyes but she has to stay in her ground to not let him see. It’s not like he cared anyway, he’s too busy buried in anger than to actually see she’s hurting.

“I can’t believe you just said that” Her voice is weak and shaky. Hands frozen on the either side, hands clenching and she feels her nails digging into the skin of her palms.

At the sound of his wife’s broken voice is what finally puts Miguel into a realization. The words he had just said to her, spewing those bullshit in front of her face. The look of hurt flashes across her beautiful face. It feels illegal to see her not smiling because of him.

Oh my God, what has he done?

“Cariño, I—“

She shakes her head, a broken sob falling from her lips, clamping her mouth shut. Miguel carefully walks around his desk to reach out to her, eyes filled with its own sadness but it only makes her step back making his heart break.

He had never felt more disappointed in himself than right now,

“Baby, please.. I-i didn’t—“

The sound of Sofia’s cries suddenly stops him. Probably awaken because of her dad’s sudden loud voice from when he yelled at her mother,

His wife breathes out a shaky sigh, running her hands through her soft dark hair with eyes shutting in frustration. She feels like she’s ready to explode at any moment. And Miguel contemplates whether or not he should try to comfort her. But by the looks of it, she doesn’t want anything to do with him.

Her eyes snap open. And for the first time, she looks at him with disappointment and anger. He searches for the love in those beautiful irises but find none. That’s when he knows, he had completely fucked everything.

“I’m fucking done with you, Miguel. Fuck you.” Her last words go straight to take a jab at his heart, before she turns on her heels to comfort their loving daughter in her room.

Miguel once couldn’t believe that he had everything. A home. A beautiful wife. A daughter. Second chances were given to him and he sworn to himself that he will do his very best to protect them all.

But now?

He might just lose everything he had built

—

if i were to write a part two, there’s going to be a slight change from ur request nonny if u don’t mind xx

[wintersoldiersoul]

Drowning

A/N: Not sure how I feel about this one but I'm currently going through this situation with my boyfriend and I thought that writing about it might help me feel better. Haven't gotten to the part where I talk to him about it but maybe this will inspire me.

It was late. Too late. You should be sleeping but it was impossible with your mind racing. You and Bucky had been together for almost a year now but you never really felt secure in your relationship with him. Maybe it was the way that your last boyfriend had broken up with you out of nowhere. You wish you knew why, but you always felt like Bucky was going to run. 

As much as you loved him, you also wanted more from him. More reassurance. More romance. More small gestures to show you that he cared. And you couldn’t blame him for not giving them to you when you hadn’t asked but as much as you preached the importance of communication to your friends, you were a hypocrite. You could never apply that to your own relationship.

Everytime you tried to express your feelings, you couldn’t do it. What if I’m right? What if I tell him that I’m afraid he’s gonna leave and he finally takes it as his chance to do so? You would think. Or what if I plant the idea in his head? 

All of this was made harder by the fact that you were younger than him. While he was established with a career, living on his own, you had just graduated college and were back living with your parents. Finding a job felt nearly impossible despite the countless resumes and cover letters that you sent out every single day. Your brain constantly flashed back to a conversation you had in May, where you asked him if you would stay together when you moved back home. Your hometown was less than an hour from where Bucky lived in Brooklyn, so in your mind it was a no brainer. But when your question opened up a conversation that blindsided you.

Bucky explained that he was ready to be settled down. You were shocked when he had said the words, “Sometimes it feels like we have an expiration date.”

The next morning he said he was being ridiculous. That he loved you and of course the two of you would figure it out. But ever since then, you hadn’t been able to relax. Even now, a month into you living back at home you still couldn’t shake the feeling that he was going to change his mind. You saw him just as often as you had when you were still living in the city. You didn’t mind taking the train to go see him 3 or 4 times a week. But the stress and anxiety was weighing on you. Combined with adjusting to post-grad life, you were not doing well. 

You had never felt so lonely in your life. All of your college friends had also moved back to their hometowns while most of your friends from high school were still dispersed around the country. The job search left you feeling defeated every single day. And the lack of things to do and structure made life feel meaningless. It was safe to say that you had hit a low point. 

But you wanted to hide it all from Bucky. Because what if you brought up how hard it was to find a job and he realized that this wasn’t going to work? What if you told him how lonely you were and he was offended that he wasn’t enough? He knew that you struggled with anxiety and he was no stranger to mental health issues of his own but you just found it impossible to open up to him about all of this.

So there you were, in the midst of another sleepless night overthinking everything. Laptop opened, frantically searching on LinkedIn for jobs in the hopes that one thing just might work out. You read back your text messages from the past few days. Does he seem distant, or is my stupid brain playing tricks on me? As your spiral continued, you could feel a panic attack brewing. You tried your best to focus on your breathing but it became impossible. You just wanted to talk to Bucky. You needed to talk to Bucky. 

Fuck it, you thought. Losing him would be horrible, but so is living in this fear. Through your tears and shaking hands, you typed a message.

Y/N: Are you awake?

You shook your legs and bit your nails as you stared at the screen waiting for those three dots to show up.

Bucky: Yeah.

You took a deep breath as you sent the next message, trying to not go crazy over the dry single word he had responded with.

Y/N: Can I call you?

You desperately wished you could be with him right now to have this conversation. To analyze his body language in person. But you weren’t with him and you wouldn’t see him til the end of the week and you needed to get this out. Now.

Bucky: It’s late. I’m trying to get some sleep. 

You knew work had been kicking his ass lately. He was putting in insane hours, usually waking up at 6 and not finishing up til midnight. You knew he needed to rest and you almost responded back saying nevermind, and goodnight. But no. You needed to be a little selfish or you would crumble. Tonight felt like a turning point. Or a breaking point.

Y/N: Please Bucky. I really need to talk to you.

Bucky: Ok

Pressing dial on his name, you felt your heart rate increase even more. You tried to take deep breaths to calm your tears but it didn’t help. You were practically sobbing by the time he answered the call. “Bucky…” you said into the phone. 

At hearing your voice, Bucky was alert. He could tell that something was wrong. You had never cried in front of him. “Y/N? Baby, what's wrong? What's going on?” His desire for sleep was completely gone. All he cared about was you. He knew that he wasn’t the best boyfriend. He knew he could treat you better. But the years of trauma he had experienced made it hard for him to be vulnerable with anyone. He loved you so much that it hurt him and he hated himself that he couldn’t fully give himself to you. 

“Bucky, I’m not okay. I’m really really not okay,” you practically hyperventilated. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t keep living like this. I can’t.”

“Shhh, can you take some deep breaths for me?” He said calmly. “I need you to calm down and tell me what's going on.” He listened quietly as he heard you breathe deeply.

“Bucky, I’m terrified,” you finally spoke after a couple of minutes. “I don’t feel secure in our relationship. I feel like I’m walking on eggshells constantly because I’m petrified that you’re gonna leave. That one day you’re just gonna decide that you’re done with me because I’m too young and I live with my parents and I don’t have a job. And trying to find a job has really been taking a toll on me. I’m trying so fucking hard but it feels impossible. It’s so defeating waking up every single day to an email inbox full of rejections and I feel worthless and stupid. I’m not doing well not being in college anymore. I don’t have any structure to my days and life feels really fucking pointless right now. I’m so lonely. Fuck, I’m so lonely, Buck.” You took a pause, bracing yourself for his response. 

“Baby, why haven’t you brought this up sooner? Why haven’t you told me any of this?” There was genuine shock in his voice. 

“Because!” You cried. “I don’t want to remind you about how hard it is to find a job right now. I don’t want you to think about the fact that I live with my parents now while you have your own independent life. I never want to remind you of it because I don’t want you to change your mind and leave. And I don’t want you to think that you’re not enough for me because I’m lonely. I love you so much but I just… I really fucking miss my friends.” 

“Y/N, I need you to listen to me. Like, really listen to me. I am well aware of your situation. I know it’s hard to find a job right now. I’m not gonna leave you, okay? I’m committed to this. To you.”

You sniffled. “But you said that you wanted to be settled down. That we might have an expiration date.”

He sighed. “I’m sorry for that. I never should have said those things. When we had that conversation I was tired and not thinking clearly. And I spent that whole night wide awake thinking about how stupid I was and how stupid I would be to let you go because you need some time to find your footing after college. I hate that those words affected you so much. I’m so sorry.”

You talked to him for a while longer, pouring out all of your insecurities that you’d been holding back. After a while, the conversation started to shift to more normal things.

“Baby,” Bucky yawned. “I love you so much but I gotta go to bed. And tomorrow after work I’ll come see you, okay?”

“Okay. I love you too.”

Your worries wouldn’t fade overnight. You wouldn’t suddenly be able to get a job. Your friends wouldn’t all come back to you. College was over and life was drastically different. But at least now Bucky knew. And he wasn’t going to leave.

[throttleheart]

⸻ ⸻ ⸻

Fuck it, I love you

Pt. I II III

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Yearning, Unresolved tension, a little toxic

Word Count: ~1k

Summary: Time went by faster in Monaco, but they still remained. They love, hurt and admit to being complicated.

Inspired by the song Fuck it, I love you by Lana Del Rey

⸻ ⸻ ⸻

9:37 AM

The Monaco sun was relentless, spilling through the curtains and pulling her from sleep before she was ready.

She blinked slowly, adjusting to the light, the hazy remnants of the night before still clinging to her like a second skin. The warmth beside her had faded, the space in the bed next to hers empty but still slightly indented.

He was gone. Of course he was.

Her heart clenched, but she swallowed the feeling down, shoving it deep into the part of herself that had learned to expect this by now.

She sat up, running a hand through her hair, trying to gather her thoughts. The penthouse was quiet, save for the distant hum of the city below. A glass of water sat on the nightstand beside her, beads of condensation sliding down its surface.

It wasn’t much. But it was something.

A sign that maybe—just maybe—he hadn’t wanted to leave, but had done it anyway.

She sighed, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, grabbing the oversized button-up that was draped over the chair in the corner—his shirt. It smelled like him, like cologne and whiskey and something she couldn’t quite name.

The balcony doors were open, letting in the warm breeze from the harbor. She stepped out, barefoot against the cool marble, the salty air stinging her skin.

And there he was.

Lando sat on the edge of a lounge chair, elbows resting on his knees, a cigarette burning between his fingers. He rarely smoked—only when he was stressed. Only when something was sitting too heavy on his chest.

She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the doorframe. “Didn’t think you’d still be here.”

He turned at the sound of her voice, eyes flicking over her, his expression unreadable. “Didn’t think you’d still be asleep.”

She huffed a quiet laugh, stepping closer. “Rough night.”

“Yeah,” he muttered, taking a slow drag of the cigarette before exhaling, watching the smoke curl into the air. “Tell me about it.”

She hesitated before sitting down beside him, close enough that their legs brushed. He didn’t move away. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence wasn’t awkward—it never was. But it was heavy.

Lando sighed, flicking the cigarette into the ashtray before running a hand through his hair. “This is getting old, isn’t it?”

Her throat tightened. “What is?”

“This.” He gestured between them, shaking his head. “The back and forth. The leaving and coming back. The pretending it doesn’t mean anything and then acting like it does.”

She swallowed hard, staring down at her hands. “It’s not that simple.”

“It could be.”

She scoffed, a humorless sound. “You think we could ever be simple?”

Lando turned to look at her then, really look at her. His gaze was steady, but there was something else there too—something raw. “I think I don’t want to keep losing you Y/N.”

Her breath caught. Because for all the nights they had spent tangled together, for all the whispered confessions in the dark, he had never said that before.

He had never admitted to wanting her in a way that wasn’t fleeting. She licked her lips, trying to steady herself. “And what happens when this stops feeling good? When we start breaking each other instead of just bruising?”

Lando exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “I don’t know.” His voice was quieter now. “But I don’t want to stop trying.”

She closed her eyes for a second, the weight of his words pressing against her chest. Because the truth was, she didn’t either. Didn’t want to keep walking away. Didn’t want to keep pretending that this was nothing when it had never been nothing.

When it had always been something.

“I love you,” he said suddenly, the words slipping out like a confession, like something he had been holding back for too long. “I don’t care if it’s messy. I don’t care if it doesn’t make sense.” He swallowed. “I just know that I love you.”

She looked at him then, the boy who had always been more than he let people see. The boy who drove like he had nothing to lose but loved like he was scared of losing everything.

Her fingers twitched against her lap before she reached for his hand, threading their fingers together. She didn’t know what would happen next. Didn’t know if they were doomed to repeat the same mistakes, to crash and burn like they always did. But for the first time in a long time, she wanted to try.

So she squeezed his hand, offering him the smallest, most fragile of smiles.

“Fuck it,” she whispered. “I love you too.”

And this time, she wasn’t walking away.

⸻ ⸻ ⸻

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Overtime

Pairing: Kyle “Gaz” Garrick x Female!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, playful banter/chasing, suggestive content, smut, female reader sooo female anatomy (again, sorry to any guys reading this love y’all though)

Author’s Note: I hope you’re ready for our lovely pretty boy he needs the love so much (he’s so pretty)

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

Kyle Garrick never expected his life to have a moment of calm, much less one filled with quiet nights and steady love. The military was chaotic—missions, violence, and long stretches of being away—but somehow, against the odds, he had you. And that made every exhausting moment worth it.

You were his anchor, his breath of fresh air, and most importantly, his fiancée. The memory of your engagement still made his chest swell, especially after the fight it had taken to get there.

---

Two Years Ago

It was a cold, rainy night in London, the kind that seeped into your bones no matter how tightly you wrapped your coat around you. Kyle had just returned from a six-week mission, his texts brief and distant in the days leading up to it. You knew what his silence meant—something had shaken him out there.

You found him sitting in his flat, staring out the window with a drink in hand, his shoulders hunched and his gaze unfocused. When he noticed you, he forced a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Kyle,” you said softly, kneeling in front of him and resting your hands on his knees. “Talk to me.”

He hesitated, his fingers tightening around the glass. “It’s nothing. Just… work.”

“That’s not nothing to you,” you countered. “You can’t keep carrying this on your own.”

His jaw worked, and then his voice cracked. “It’s just… some days, I don’t know if I’ll make it back to you. And I hate it. Hate what it does to you, to us.”

Your heart broke, but you stayed strong, wrapping your arms around him tightly. “I’d rather have you for a thousand dangerous tomorrows than never at all. We’re in this together, Kyle.”

That night, he held you like you were his lifeline, and when the morning light broke through the clouds, he promised himself he’d never let fear push you away.

---

A Few Weeks Prior

You stepped back from Kyle’s hug, letting your hands drift down to his chest as you gave him a once-over. His jacket was damp, his hair (what little there was) slightly disheveled, and the bags under his eyes betrayed just how hard he’d been working.

“I told you to take care of yourself,” you scolded gently, brushing a bit of hair back to make it neater

Kyle chuckled, his fingers brushing your hand before he leaned into your touch. “You know me. Stubborn to the end.”

“Stubborn and reckless,” you corrected with a mock glare, before softening. “I worry about you, you know.”

He sighed, pulling you back into his arms, his chin resting on the top of your head. “I know, love. And I don’t take it for granted.”

You pulled away just enough to look up at him, your fingers trailing along the chain around his neck that held the ring you’d given him after he’d proposed. He never wore it on missions, too worried about losing it, but he always kept it close to his heart.

“Remember what you promised me?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

He smiled, a little more genuine this time. “That I’d always come home to you.”

“And that you’d tell me when you’re struggling,” you added pointedly, arching a brow.

Kyle kissed your forehead. “I’m here now, aren’t I? No mission, no stress, just us.”

---

The night carried on with more laughter than you’d heard from Kyle in weeks. He insisted on cooking dinner—though you ended up taking over halfway through when he burned the first batch of vegetables—and the two of you shared stories over the meal.

At one point, he disappeared into the bedroom, returning with a small box in hand. You recognized it immediately, your heart skipping a beat.

“What’s this?” you asked, even though you already knew.

Kyle shrugged, trying to play it cool, though the grin on his face gave him away. “Just thought it might be time for a proper celebration. We’ve been so busy with planning, I wanted us to take a moment for ourselves.”

Inside the box was a bracelet—simple, silver, and engraved with the coordinates of your favorite spot: the hill overlooking the city where he’d proposed.

“Kyle,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

“Figured you needed a reminder that no matter where I am, I’m always thinking of you,” he said softly, his hand cupping your cheek.

---

The bracelet stayed on your wrist as the two of you curled up on the couch later, the weight of the day giving way to the comfort of each other’s presence. Kyle’s arms were wrapped around you, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on your arm.

“You’re quiet,” he murmured, his voice low.

“Just thinking,” you replied, turning to look at him.

“About?”

“How lucky I am to have you,” you said simply, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

Kyle’s smile was soft as he tilted your chin up, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that deepened slowly, making your heart race.

The moment lingered, charged with unspoken words and unyielding love, as the two of you melted into the comfort of being entirely, utterly present with each other.

---

Present Day

Kyle had been running on fumes for weeks. Missions blurred together, the hours long and unforgiving, and the brief pockets of downtime stolen by the unrelenting hum of his mind refusing to quiet. He always came home to you, though—that thought carried him through the worst of it.

Tonight was no different. He slipped into the apartment quietly, the low creak of the door announcing his return. The soft glow of warm light in the living room greeted him first, then the faint scent of your lavender candle. And there you were, curled up on the couch with a book in hand, eyes lifting as the sound of his boots hit the floor.

“You’re late,” you teased, setting the book down. But there was no malice, just the soft pull of your lips into a smile that Kyle swore could undo every knot of tension in his body.

“Long day,” he murmured, crossing the room in a few quick strides. You stood just as he reached you, arms looping around his neck in a hug he melted into like he hadn’t held you in years.

“You could��ve called,” you murmured into his chest, your words muffled but warm against his skin.

“Didn’t want to wake you up.” His hands rested at your lower back, his voice dipping lower. “’Sides, I wanted to surprise you.”

You tilted your head back to meet his gaze, your eyes sparkling with something playful. “Surprise me? With what?”

Kyle’s grin was crooked, mischievous even, as he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, lingering just below your ear. “Guess you’ll have to find out, yeah?”

As he bent down, he picked you up bridal style and whisked you to the bedroom. As you both entered he kicked the door closed behind him and gently lay you on the bed.

He leans over you, arms resting beside your head as he leans in and kisses you once more, his weight slowly being placed on top of you before feeling him move his lips from your lips to your neck, leaving hickeys in his wake as he traveled further to your neck line.

As Kyle leaned in to capture your lips with his own, he poured all of his love and longing into the kiss. His hands roamed over your curves, reacquainting himself with every dip and swell, as if he needed to prove to himself that you were real, that this moment was real. Kyle’s heart raced as he felt your fingers tangle in his hair, your nails scraping lightly against his scalp. It was a sensation he'd missed, a touch he'd craved during countless lonely nights abroad.

Kyle’s lips trailed from your soft mouth, down the column of your throat, pausing to nip and suck at the sensitive skin. He knew he was leaving marks, branding you as his, but he couldn't help himself. The primal, possessive urge to claim you, to show the world that you belonged to him, consumed him. Kyle’s hands slid under the hem of your shirt, caressing the smooth, warm skin of your back, before deftly unhooking your bra. He tugged both garments up and off, tossing them carelessly to the floor.

Kyle took a moment to admire your beauty, his gaze roving hungrily over your newly exposed flesh. The moonlight through the window cast a soft glow on your skin, making you look almost ethereal. Kyle’s heart clenched in his chest as he looked down at you, wondering how he ever got so lucky to call you his fiancée.

"Beautiful," Kyle murmured, before lowering his head to press open-mouthed kisses across the swell of your breasts, pausing to lave attention on each hardened peak. Kyle reveled in the little gasps and moans that tumbled from your lips, in the way your back arched, pressing you more fully into his touch. He could feel the heat building between you both, the desire that always seemed to ignite when you were together like this.

Kyle’s hand slid down your stomach, his fingers dipping teasingly beneath the waistband of your jeans. He could feel the heat radiating from your center, could sense your desire, and it made him throb with anticipation. Kyle knew he needed to take this slow, to worship every inch of his fiancée, to show you just how much you meant to him. He would spend all night long reminding you of his love, of his devotion, if that's what it took. Because Kyle knew that no matter what challenges life threw their way, they would face them together. Always.

Kyle’s fingers found the button of your jeans, popping it open with ease. He paused, looking up at you with a heated gaze, silently seeking permission. At the subtle nod you gave him he took a moment to appreciate you in your glorious, goddess like appearance.

The bracelet glinted on your wrist in the moonlight as Kyle’s hand slid lower, slipping inside your jeans to cup you causing you to let out a gasp of pleasure, which was music to his ears, spurring him on as he began to stroke you through the damp fabric of your panties. Kyle touch was skilled and sure, his fingers moving in a way that let you know just how much he remembered, just how well he knew your body's every response and reaction. It was a dance, a sensual ballet, as Kyle took his time bringing you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.

All the while, Kyle never ceased his assault on your senses, his lips and hands and words all working in tandem to worship and adore you. He told you how beautiful you were, how much he loved you, how grateful he was to have you in his life. Kyle’s voice was low and rough with emotion, his words punctuated by the sound of his own ragged breathing and the pounding of his heart.

As Kyle felt you begin to tremble beneath his touch, your body drawing taut as a bowstring, he knew you were close. He could feel the tension coiling in your muscles, sense the impending release that was building like a tidal wave inside of you. Kyle’s touch became more insistent, his fingers moving faster, pressing harder against the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs.

"Let go, love," Kyle murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "I've got you. I'll always catch you."

With a cry of his name, you had shattered, you body convulsing with the force of your climax. Kyle gentled his touch, helping you ride out the waves of pleasure that crashed over you, before gathering you close and holding you tight. He pressed kisses to your damp forehead, your flushed cheeks, the tip of your nose, anywhere he could reach, murmuring words of love and praise. Kyle knew that this was only the beginning, that he would spend the rest of the night showing you just how much you meant to him, in every way he knew how. Because Kyle knew that no matter what challenges life threw their way, they would face them together. Always.

Kyle’s hands slid down your sides, his fingers splaying across the small of your back as he held you close. He could feel the heat of your skin, the way your heart raced in time with his own. Kyle’s lips found yours once more, and he kissed you with a hunger that stole his breath away, a desperation that made his head spin. He poured every ounce of his love into that kiss, every shred of longing and desire, until you were left breathless and clinging to him, your nails digging into his shoulders.

Kyle’s hands slid lower, gripping your hips and lifting you effortlessly. He settled you onto the bed, his body covering yours a moment later, the hard length of him pressing against your thigh. Kyle’s mouth found yours again, kissing you until you were dizzy and aching, until you could feel the heat building between your legs once more. He touched you until you were writhing beneath him, until you were begging him silently for more. And then, finally, Kyle gave you what you had needed, what you both needed. He entered you with a swift, hard thrust, burying himself to the hilt inside you welcoming heat. Kyle’s groan was guttural, primal, as he began to move inside you, each powerful thrust driving him deeper, pushing you both closer to the edge of ecstasy.

Kyle’s heart raced as he lost himself in the exquisite sensation of your body welcoming his, your hips began rocking to meet his thrusts, your legs wrapping around his waist to pull him impossibly closer. He kissed you with something powerful, swallowing your cries of pleasure as he loved you with every fiber of his being. Kyle knew that he would never tire of this, of you, of the way your bodies fit together like two puzzle pieces designed just for each other. He knew that he would spend the rest of his life trying to be worthy of you love, of the incredible gift of having you as his partner, his lover, his best friend. Gaz's hands slid under your bottom, tilting your hips, changing the angle of his thrusts, searching for that spot deep inside you that would push you over the edge. And when he found it, when your body clenched around his like a velvet vice, Kyle followed you into the abyss, his own release overtaking him, his heart shouting your name as he spilled himself inside you.

In the aftermath, Kyle held you close, his body curling protectively around yours as you both struggled to catch your breaths. He pressed a tender kiss to your temple, his fingers stroking gently through your hair, as he murmured words of love and devotion against your skin. Kyle knew that he would spend the rest of his life loving you like this, cherishing you, honoring the incredible woman that you are. No matter what challenges they faced, no matter what trials and tribulations came their way, Kyle would always be by your side. Because you are his home, his heart, his everything. And he would never let you go. Sleep overtaking you both, dreams of your futures claiming you both as you squeezed each other tightly, love in the air.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[rashoumon-homo]

Dating Ango HCs

Ango x Male Reader, SFW and NSFW

Request from @unprofessionalsimp

SFW

His contact for you in his phone is the only one that he puts an emoji on. It’s still Last Name, First Name like everyone else but yours has a cute emoji that reminds him of you

He blushes when you flirt with him and it’s so cute you can’t help but do it all the time

Your camera roll is full of blurry photos of him because you’re always sneaking photos of him when he’s distracted

He can be really distant when he gets home from work since it’s hard for him to let his guard down after hours of being on high alert, so you make an effort to distract him right when he gets home. Sometimes by telling him a funny story about the day, sometimes by making dinner, or sometimes by watching tv on the couch with him.

He’s not big on PDA, even holding hands, because he worries people will try to use you against him or hurt you

You love kissing his forehead because he always closes his eyes and smiles without thinking about it

You take his glasses off for him when he falls asleep with them on (which is often)

Sometimes he puts his hair in a little half-ponytail to keep it out of his face and you think it’s adorable so you’re always begging him to do it

You have a cat together (or are thinking of getting one) but don’t want human kids

On one of your first dates, you mentioned the title of your favorite book (and then promptly forgot lol) - he said he hadn’t read it but would look it up. On your first anniversary, he gave you a copy of the book that he’d read and annotated. Most of the notes were about his thoughts while reading, but some lines were highlighted with a heart in the margin and there were notes like “this character reminds me of him” or “I can see why he loves this book”

NSFW

The vulnerability and intimacy of sex is a really big deal to him

It took a longgg time to warm him up to the idea of having sex

You’ve both established safe words and make sure to check in regularly, even for vanilla sex

He’s a switch but prefers to bottom

He might not seem like it on the surface, but he can get really subby really fast

Discovered he likes being tied up - it’s exciting to him to be at your mercy since he knows you’ll treat him well

Occasionally likes being blindfolded, but on days when work is especially rough, anticipation can tip over into genuine fear. He’s had to use the safe word a couple times with that particular kink, although he does enjoy it if he’s in the right headspace

Generally doesn’t have a lot of kinks; prefers to stick with what he knows he likes instead of trying something new

Surprisingly quiet during sex - though that doesn’t mean he’s not enjoying it!

Sex with you is a stress relief for him

Compared to his work life, where he can’t trust anyone, letting you have control during sex is a way he likes to unwind

It took a while for him to get to the point of trusting you enough to let you have complete control in bed, but now that you two have that kind of trust in each other, he’s able to let down his guard and really enjoy himself

It’s honestly just all-around good for him to have someone in his life he can trust completely. And while physical intimacy might make that trust more obvious, he definitely trusts you in every area of his life.

♡ ♡ ♡

Tag list: @suru1990, @little-miss-chaoss

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[lunajay33]

Change Part.9

•🩰🎀🩷•

Summary: Y/n is a loner but loves ballet but her family doesn’t have enough money for her to dance at the studio, Daryl is a redneck who hates people and prefers bikes, until one day these two run into eachother and their lives change drastically, will Daryl toughen her up? Will y/n soften Daryl? Or both? How will things go when people start coming back from the dead

Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x f!reader

A/n: This is going to be a series, it’s gonna start with how they met eachother and their lives before the apocalypse, eventually it’ll blend with twd story line!!

Part.8

•Masterlist•

After a few hectic days and loads of stress we made it to a farm, along the way we lost Sofia, but Daryl hasn’t given up, everyone was setting up tents and Daryl wanted to set up farther from the group across the field, finally finishing putting our little camp together I slumped down on a lawn chair completely exhausted, my heart felt weak and my head was fuzzy

“Hey im bought ta head out fer sophia…..hey ya okay?” Daryl asked quickly kneeling infront of me

“Daryl…..I don’t feel so good” my head falling forward to lean on his shoulder

“What’s goin on what’s wrong?” His voice was laced with panic

“I don’t….dont know” I slurred as my vision was nothing but a blur and his panicked voice was distant

Feeling my body be lifted and being cradled by his safe arms, hearing him scream as my body was jostled as he ran

“HELP!” Soon hearing distant murmurs of others surrounding then everything went silent as darkness took over

Daryl’s Pov

“Quick lay her on the bed” Hershel said motioning to the bed

“What happened?” Maggie asked as she started taking her blood pressure

“Don’t know, she was fine this mornin then she just got faint, will she be okay?” I asked my body riddled with nerves

“Might just be stress especially with being pregnant it’ll affect her more, all we can do is wait and hope she’ll be okay when she wakes up” Hershel said as Beth laid a bowl of cold water and a clothe on the bed side table before they all left leaving just the both of us…..well technically the three of us

This isn’t what I wanted fer her, fer us, she was always so excited about havin a baby together and this is the luck we get even after all the shit we had to go through

Flashback

“Daryl can I ask you something?” She asked as she curled up next to me in bed

“Anythin sunshine”

“Would you ever consider I don’t know…..having a baby with me?” My heart skipped a beat, she’s hinted to this before but she sounded serious now, almost desperate

“Daryl you okay?” She asked looking up at me

“ ‘m fine just…..ya sure ya want that with me?”

“Of course D you know there’s no one else I’d rather experience my life with, you’re everything to me, but I don’t want this if it’s too much for you baby”

“Nah I want this, that baby would be the luckiest baby I the world ta have ya as a mom, but let’s wait we’re still young pumpkin” I suggest as I kiss her forehead

“It’ll happen when it happens, and when it does it’ll be amazing”

She’s a gift from god, she’s made everythin better in my life and that’s all I wanted to give back but how in this screwed up shithole of the world

“How’s she doing?” I looked back seeing Lori at the door

“Don’t know” I grumbled going back to focusing on her holding her hand in mine

“She’ll be okay, she’s strong” she said before she left, all I could focus on was the love of my life

Wringing out the cold clothe and dabbing her forehead I remembered the first time she got sick in front of me and tried to act all tough

Coming home from work I called out waiting for her to come running with open arms like she always did but all I got was her groaning from our bedroom

“Sunshine?”

Walking into the room I see her curled up on the bed with blankets sprawled everywhere and tissues littering the floor

“Daryl?” She whimpered as I sat on the bed next to her, her lips pale and her nose ruby red

“Baby what’s going on what happened?” I asked rubbing my hand up and down her thigh

“It’s my period and the cold, mixed together to try and kill me”

“Not my peach, I’ll get ya back and runnin”

“No D I can’t have you do that, you’ve been working all day, I’m fine”

“Ya can’t stop me I’ll always be here ta help ya”

“I love you Daryl”

“Love ya more pumpkin”

Normal Pov

My head was pounding all I could remember was sitting around the camp before everything became hazy

“Hello?” I managed to groan out slowly opening my eyes

“Hey ya okay, I’m here sunshine” he said as I felt his hand smooth down my hair, I sat up quickly confused

“Ya need anything?”

“Who……who are you?” His face seemed to drop but I didn’t know anything that was going on, where I was, who he was, how I even got here?

“Princess it’s me, Daryl your husband”

“I’m sorry I don’t know anything”

He left the room soon coming back with an older man with white hair and a younger girl with short brown hair

“How’re you feeling, any dizziness? Pain anywhere?” He asked pressing a stethoscope to my belly for some reason

“Ummm no not really, everything feels fine except I don’t know anything”

“Well what can you remember dear?”

“Well my name is y/n Dixon and I’m a ballerina!” The guy next to my bed clamming to be my husband smiled at that

“It seems the stress from everything has caused her mind to shut down parts of her memory to protect herself, it may come back with time most likely only temporary, just be patient with her”

Memory loss what the hell was happening

“Come on my ballerina let’s go get settled” my ‘husband’ said helping me up from the bed then leaving the house to a beautiful farm land

“I’m sorry I can’t remember” I said twiddling with my fingers nervously

“Ain’t yer fault Angel, it’ll be okay, my name is Daryl by the way”

“Are we camping or something what’s with all the tents?”

“Ya just a bunch of friends came together to uhhhh have some time away from everything” he said his eyes downcast

“Oh well that’s fun! I do have to say though if you are my husband I’m pretty lucky you’re very handsome” i said seeing his cheeks blush warming my heart

“Ya still got that about ya” he smiled as his fingers grazed mine

“Do we have any kids together?”

“Not yet, ya haven’t noticed yer pregnant?”

PREGNANT

I ran my hand down my belly finally noticing a bigger bump than would be just normal belly, my heart was beating fast and I felt sick

“Daryl I don’t know if I can do this, this is too much oh god” I said starting to panic as he steered me to sit in a near by camp chair

“Hey it’ll be okay baby, just breath I’ll be here with ya ever step of the way”

“I’m scared” my lip trembled

“I know I know but ya have ta breath it ain’t good fer ya or the baby”

“You promise not to leave me”

“I promise”

“Hey you’re up how’re you feeling?” A man with a sheriffs hat on

“She’s got memory lose, tryna take it easy, good thing we’re campin to help her relax”

“Right yeah, camping will help calm everything, I’m Rick, got yourself a pretty amazing man here, he’d do anything for you, never seen a love like yours” he smiled patting Daryl’s shoulder

“Thanks Rick, that’s good to know, so far he’s been pretty amazing, he must be if I’m having his baby apparently” I laughed as I felt a bit more calm

After Rick and Daryl re introduced me to everyone I didn’t feel as isolated, but everytime Daryl’s hand would graze against my skin or softly touch my lower back a tingle would shot through me of complete joy

“So am I really a ballerina or was that another side affect from the amnesia” I asked Daryl as I laid next to him in our tent

“Of course ya are, I like ta call ya and the baby my lil ballerinas, when we were younger ya loved the black swan, I bought ya yer first pair of slippers, I still remember the look on yer face, ya looked so happy, that’s when I knew I loved ya and would never let ya go” he said as he brushed my hair aside

“I wish I remembered, just being around you makes me feel so happy like no matter what I’m meant to be with you and I can’t even remember”

“I’ll tell ya everything ya wanna know, we just gotta give it time Hershel said anything could trigger yer memory maybe this’ll help”

“Okay ummm how did we meet?”

“We got assigned to be partners in school, best day of my life, ya never gave up on me”

“Where do we live?”

“Ummm in a small house bordering the town we grew up in” his expression seemed to change

“Oh that sounds nice, little cozy place I’m sure the baby will love that, do we have a nursery set up?”

“Not yet baby, we’ve……been camping a while” he said as his hand rubbed up and down my belly as I sat up infront of him now

“When will we go home, I wanna see our home D” I don’t know where that nickname came from but it felt right

“Ummm ya hungry sunshine? Want me ta make ya anything?” He said changing the subject but this must be hard on him too

“Oh umm I’m okay, I think I’ll just head to sleep now it’s been a long day”

“Okay pumpkin, it gets cold at night so if ya need anything wake me up okay baby?” His nicknames made my heart fill with joy which made the baby kick gently

“Okay D, good night” I smiled leaning over and placing a soft kiss to his check

“Night, I love ya”

Part.10

Hey guys sorry it’s been a while I’ve been kinda depressed hope you liked this chapter

Taglist: @pinchofthetwd @bigbaldheadname @strawberrykiwisdogog @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @l0kilaufeys0n7 @deansapplepie @tesfayera @daryldixmedown @secretsicanthideanymore @superbowlisgay @pollito-chicken @shadowrose13-blog1 @absssposts @writer-ann-artist @dgeckobones @twisteduniverse5 @heidiland05 @lettersfromyourlove @minnie-min @severelykinky @mordilwen-of-mirkwood

[cmdrfupa]

Unfortunately for Nanami, he just can't help but be a gentleman.

tw:obsessive/yandere reader, stalking, mentioning of blade(s), unhealthy obsession, boundaries being ignored. (pls, don't read if you aren't comfortable with yandere anything.)

an: an attempt at spooky/unsettling/heebie jeebies. idk. But I watched swim fan and now here we are only loosely inspired. Thanks for reading!

Journal Entry 487:

ALMOST THERE!

The way Nanami walked into class today—quiet, focused—made my heart swell in a way it always does when he’s near. It’s these little moments that I live for. The way he brushes the hair from his forehead as he sits down, the silent glances we share across the room. He probably doesn’t even realize how much I love him, I think. But he doesn’t have to—not yet. It’s enough to just be here, to watch, to know him better than anyone else ever will.

He’s so busy lately, buried in textbooks, study groups, and long hours at the library. I know it isn’t easy for him to find time for us, and I understand. I’ve always been patient with Nanami. He’s been stressed, pushing himself too hard, but I’ve learned to be the quiet support he needs. That’s why I don’t mind when he doesn’t text me back right away. It’s why I don’t ask for too much. I don’t want to add to his burden.

It’s just… sometimes I wonder why he keeps his distance. I’ve heard him talk to our classmates—his voice always calm and measured—but when it comes to me, there’s this… hesitation. This space between us that wasn’t there before. But it’s fine. I’m giving him time. That’s what good partners do, right?

I overheard one of his friends, some girl named Utahime, trying to give him advice the other day. She kept insisting he needed “better boundaries.” Boundaries? He never needed boundaries with me before. Who was she to tell him how to deal with his relationship? I wanted to tell her to mind her own business, but that would have made things awkward. And I don’t want to be the clingy girlfriend. Not like the others.

I told my therapist that everything’s been fine, that I’ve been “working on myself” just like she said. No more following him, she’d said with that concerned expression, scribbling in her notebook like she knew anything about what we’ve been through. As if my feelings for Nanami were some obsession to “get over.” She doesn't get it.

Nanami does. Deep down, he does. He just needs time.

But she’s right about one thing—I have changed. I’ve learned to let him breathe, to be patient, to play the long game. I stopped following him for weeks now. I haven’t stayed outside his apartment like I used to. That’s progress, right? I’m healthy now. But that’s what makes it so perfect. He can relax now, finally, and I can move closer.

I watch him now, across the classroom, as the professor drones on about some lecture. He’s not even paying attention, just staring out the window, his chin propped up on one hand. He’s probably thinking about me. How could he not? After everything we’ve been through.

But he doesn’t text me anymore. He doesn’t talk to me after class like he used to, even though I’ve apologized for my transgressions. I know he’s been pulling away ever since… well, since the incident. But again, I already told him I was sorry for that. It wasn’t my fault things got out of hand. He was the one who acted like I was some stranger when I followed him home that night. I was only making sure he was safe after being so nice during labs. If he’d just listened to me, we wouldn’t have had to go through all of that.

It’s okay, though. We’re past that now. I’ve given him space, and that’s what he needed. And it’s working. He’s not looking over his shoulder as much anymore, he’s not acting so distant. He’s ready to take the next step with me. I can feel it.

And now, tonight, when I show him just how far I’ve gone to prove my love, he’ll realize how foolish he’s been to deny me. He’ll understand why I had to do everything I did. This is all for him.

I left class early, unnoticed by everyone except Nanami. I know he saw me leave. That’s good. He’ll be wondering where I went, probably thinking about me already. I’m always on his mind, whether he wants to admit it or not.

The apartment was dark, streetlamps bleeding through the blinds, casting thin slashes of light across the floor. You were crouched in the closet, the musty smell of Nanami’s winter coat mingling with the faint scent of laundry detergent. His scent—familiar, comforting. You pressed your face deeper into the fabric, breathing it in, feeling your pulse quicken. This was where you belonged, wrapped in the traces of him, tucked away in the dark, waiting for the perfect moment.

A soft smile tugged at your lips as You shifted your position, careful not to let the wooden hangers above clatter together.

You spent an hour rolling around in his bed enjoying the scent and his pajama pants while you used his pillow as if it were his face between your thighs. He was so soft, so perfect even in his home life.

The knife in your hand felt warm against your skin, an extension of your devotion. It’s not for him, You reminded yourself. It was for anyone who tried to come between your love. Anyone who would ruin this perfect night.

The soft hum of traffic outside disappeared as the door to the apartment clicked open. Your heart stopped, breath caught in your throat. There he was. You could picture it perfectly, even from here. Nanami would walk in, his broad shoulders slumping after a long day at his internship. He’d run a hand through his hair, tired, as always, but never too tired for you. He just didn’t know it yet.

You pressed closer to the door of the closet, peering through the sliver of space, watching as his familiar silhouette passed in front of the living room window. Your fingers tightened around the handle of the knife, not in fear, but in anticipation.

He’ll be surprised at first. Of course, who wouldn’t be? But once he sees you, once he understands the effort you’ve gone through—the sleepless nights, the waiting, the watching—it’ll all make sense. He’ll realize that no one can love him the way you do. No one can know him the way you do. Not the superficial glances his classmates give him, or the fleeting smiles from strangers. None of that is real. You are the only one who sees him.

He moved towards the kitchen, unaware of the eyes following his every step. He loosened his tie, his movements slow, methodical, just like always. It was one of the things you loved about him—his reliability. He wasn’t like the others, full of meaningless chaos. Nanami was steady, and you... you were the constant in his life, even if he didn’t know it yet.

You ran your fingers lightly over the blade, imagining what it would feel like to run them across his skin. Not to hurt him—never to hurt him. Just to feel that closeness, the unbreakable bond. The sound of him pouring water from the sink was hypnotic, as if every second stretched out just for you. He was so close now. Just a few feet away. Soon, he’d finish, and he’d head to his bedroom. He’d see the rose petals you left on the bed, the sign of your love. And then he’d come looking for you.

And you’ll be waiting. Here, in the dark.

You could almost feel his hands on yours already, gently pulling you out of the shadows, his deep voice saying your name, softer than he’d ever spoken before. His eyes would soften too, just for you. And then, the moment you’d both been waiting for. Consummating your love in the most intimate of ways.

He’ll understand.

The thought of it sent a thrill down your spine. you had to stifle a giggle, pressing your palm to your mouth, your body trembling with excitement. you didn’t want to ruin the surprise. No, not yet. It had to be perfect.

The sound of his footsteps grew closer again. This time, heading toward the bedroom. your heart pounded in your chest, each beat syncing with his movements. you could hear him stop in the doorway.

“What the—?”

The shock in his voice was everything you’d hoped for. He sees it now. The roses, the delicate scent of the candles you’d placed around the room. The photos you’d taken of him from far distances. Yes, that is Utahime’s hair bow. Glad he noticed.

He knows you’re here. He’s probably smiling, confused, but intrigued. you bet he’s thinking how silly he was to ever doubt you.

The closet door was all that separated you now. Your hand trembled slightly as you gripped the handle tighter, waiting for the perfect moment.

Any second now.

You pressed your forehead against the wood, closing your eyes, imagining how its going to feel—his arms around you, holding you tight, telling you how much he missed you, how stupid he’d been for taking your acts of affection as anything but that. You bit your lip, feeling the anticipation flood your veins.

To be loved is to be seen. And he showed his love when he saw you while you w invisible to everyone else.