#these two are so special to me. they mean everything

[iamthatonefangirl]

okay imma need a nsfw alphabet for bucky!! maybe tfatws? let me be, we all know im all for that man

you know I gotchu bae. fatws bucky nsfw alphabet incoming...

aftercare: this man is obviously a god at aftercare, no questions asked. he’s kissing every inch of your face, making sure you’re okay and happy and satisfied. even if he’s exhausted he’s always offering to give you one more, two more, as many more as you want, really… he'll make you drink way too much water and then he’s practically pushing you out of the bed to make you pee even when you want nothing more than to sleep. 

body part: he loves every inch of you. doesn’t matter what you think. he loves you. he loves any part of you he can hold onto, dig his fingers into and keep you close to him, whether it’s your chest, your thighs, your hips. the most vulnerable parts of you are the most real, and those are his favorite. he just wants to feel you. 

when he first took his shirt off in front of you, he was concerned. he knows you’re a good person with a caring heart and would never judge him for his scars on his shoulder, but he was still scared. if you flinched away, or cringed, or anything, when you saw him… his heart would shatter. he’d never love again. he wouldn’t see the point in living. 

but you smiled, and looked at him with nothing but adoration and lust. you gently brought your hands to his chest, and his heart fucking melted. he watched your face, taking in your facial expressions as you stepped closer and took in the sight of him. he watched and waited to see what you might do or say. waited for you to scowl and tell him he was ugly. 

but you just… pressed your lips to the scars on his shoulder, and he felt like he could cry. you've only ever made him feel whole.

cum: he’s making a huge mess all over your sheets, skin, everywhere. he loves filling you up and then fucking it back into you. “don’t waste it, baby,” he’s teasing you, overstimulating you with his fingers and plugging you up. 

dirty secret: he kind of wants to learn for himself how it feels when he ties you up. 

experience: you’re his first since after hydra. it scared him, at first, how much he liked you when he met you. he wanted to open up to you, give you everything right off the bat, fuck you senseless right off the bat, but he couldn’t. it took him time, of course, and you were happy to take it slow. but god, the first time you had sex was like heaven. he was a young man once upon a time. an extremely attractive young man, and so it’s fair to say that he knows wtf he’s doing now that he’s comfortable with you. 

favorite position: call him boring, but he loves missionary. he wants to be able to see your eyes, your reactions, and kiss your face while he’s making you feel good. he loves having you lay on the bed, relaxing, while he takes you apart, giving you the princess treatment you deserve.

but when you ride him, fuck, it takes his breath away with how pretty you look. he always finishes way too fast and ends up apologizing over and over again, but you don’t care. he’ll get hard again soon enough. until then he can sit there and deal with the overstimulation <3

goofy: this man loves to have fun with you, especially in bed. most of the time when you’re in the heat of the moment, you’re both pretty serious, but that doesn’t mean there’s no room for fun. one time you were in the middle of getting your shit rocked from behind, making the whole bed shake like crazy, and the lamp on the table ended up getting knocked over, startling both of you. you both couldn’t help but laugh until you cried, at which point he turned you onto your back and kissed you, both of you making jokes about it while you fucked you until you finished, still giggling. 

hair: nothing special. he keeps it clean and tidy. he doesn't let his hair get long anymore, too many bad memories. but he gets the sense you find it attractive so maybe... 

intimacy: this man craves connection with you. he’s always reminding you how much he loves you and needs you in his life, kissing your eyes and nose and cheeks every time he says it. he holds you close and can’t help but remind you of how pretty you are, how well you take care of him, praising and worshipping you as he makes the sweetest love to you. 

jack-off: trying to get back to normal after hydra was… a struggle. it’s fair to say he didn’t get himself off very much before he met you. you have sex fairly regularly, but being with you helped him feel more comfortable and capable of doing it himself. fairly early in your relationship you asked him if you could just watch, and he was hesitant. so you gave him your own little show, which totally spurred him on to do the same for you. ever since then, and the way you looked at him with such lust in your eyes as he touched himself, he’s been so much more confident and willing. you’re just happy he’s getting back to finding himself and being comfortable again in his body. 

kink: he loves to gag you. he just can’t help himself. he totally gets off on putting you in a spider gag and tying your hands above your head while he can sit there and mess with your head, praising and degrading you at the same time for being his good little fuck doll? yeah, that’ll do it for him. 

he’s a sucker for fucking you in front of a mirror. he’ll push you up against the bathroom counter, wrap a hand around your throat, and kick your feet apart, watching your reactions in the mirror. he loves how you devolve into a mess in front of his eyes while he holds himself together, watching the way he’s railing you into oblivion. he holds your head in place so you’re forced to watch him smirk while you’re drooling everywhere.

he loves having control over you and waving it around in your face to taunt you. it’s fun to put you in your place, spank you into submission. total size kink, too.

location: he loves doing it in the bedroom, call him old-fashioned. taking you apart in his bed, making you comfortable, giving it to you the way you deserve. only the best for you. 

but he’s only a man. anywhere you want it, he’ll give it to you. you’ve definitely fucked in his car. on his motorcycle. in an alley outside the dancing club you went to that one time. he’s no exhibitionist, but…

motivation: when you tease him. you love making dirty jokes to him to get him riled up, and it always works. if you’re trying to walk past him in a tight space, you’ll grab his ass or his bulge or grind up against him and then pretend like nothing happened. you’ll buy boxes of popsicles at the store for the sole purpose of licking it like you do his cock. one of these days he’s gonna take the damn popsicle out of your mouth and fuck you with it.

no: no knives, no guns. even if it doesn’t scare you, it scares him too much to think about exposing you to that kind of violence given his history. 

oral: he’s a real man. loves to go down on you when you’re aching and sensitive for him after he’s wrecked you. you’re hissing, telling him to be careful, and he’s rubbing your thighs to soothe you. he loves when you’re vulnerable like this, super tired, walking the line between pain and pleasure, and yet you still let him lick you to his heart’s content. 

he loves your mouth on his cock. it’s a sight to see. getting you on your knees for him, seeing you so willing, parting your lips and drooling on him. he loves it. he moans like crazy and loves talking to you while you’re pleasuring him, saying, “that’s my girl. letting me use her mouth like this. gonna let me fuck it like the rest of your holes, hmm?”

pace: he loves going slow and fucking you deep, but when he wants to? oh he’ll fuck the everliving daylights out of you. he’ll make you beg him to go faster, give it to you rough, and once you’ve said “please” enough times, sounding all pretty and desperate for him, he’ll give you what you want, making you come over and over while he just keeps fucking you. it’s heavenly. 

quickie: he doesn’t really seek you out much for it, he’s happy to take care of himself or wait until the timing is right. but he loves when you ask for it. one minute he’s busy with something, the next you’re on him, telling him, “I need you to fuck me right fucking now” and he’s gonna do it. he’s gonna make sure you’re happy and well fucked any time you need it. this is when he’ll get a little rougher with you, a little more possessive and controlling, giving you that all-encompassing feeling of pleasure, body and mind. 

risk: he’s hesitant, as are you. he’s not big on taking risks, but the few times you have fucked in public have been exhilarating. he’d be open to doing it again, maybe just once. he’s got an image he’s trying to rebuild. 

stamina: he’s got stamina for days. he’s literally super human. of course, he’s still 100 years old, and the years are starting to catch up to him. but he can still fuck, don’t doubt that. 

toys: anything to get you off, he’ll try. it’s pretty often that he’ll use a vibrator on your clit while he fucks you, all the pleasure going to your head and making your thoughts blur together. he wants to make you forget about everything but how he makes you feel.

every once in a while he’ll fuck your mouth and make you fuck yourself with a dildo just to see how needy and whiney you can get for him. but honestly he’s the one that gets needy because it’s not long before he’s like “fuck this” and he picks you up, chucks the dildo across the room, and then drags you to bed to fuck you himself. also he wants to get you a butt plug to make you wear it in public, bonus points if it vibrates and he can control it from his phone. 

unfair: he does not have it in him. he will tease and edge you maybe once, but he has to watch you come for him, he has to, it's his crack. knowing that he’s making you feel good is more important than anything else. he lowkey wants to ask you to tease him for hours just to see what happens.

volume: bro is a moaning mess for you okay. he tried to hold back the first few times you had sex, but then you got concerned that you weren’t doing enough. when you managed to pull a real moan from him, you fucking celebrated and hollered and he blushed like crazy. so then he finally quit holding back, knowing you wanted to hear him, and he’s like a whiney baby when he fucks you now. 

wild card: he bought a ring. 

x-ray: he’s clearly doing pretty well for himself. he’s got the prettiest dick on the planet, pink and leaky and too big for you to wrap your whole hand around. you try anyways, looking up at him with big puppy eyes as you stroke him up and down, teasing him with little kitten licks to the tip. he stretches you out just right, every time. “such a good girl, opening up so well for me, you know that? just wanna take all of me, but you’re just so little… guess I’ll just have to make you take it, huh?” he says as he stretches you on his fingers.

yearning: he’s a loverboy at heart 🤍 he loves you and always wants to have you close and always wants to touch you. if he’s asleep and you need him to fuck you, he wants you to wake him up, he doesn’t care. 

zzz: he conks the fuck out so quickly. once he knows you’re okay, and you’re hydrated, and you’ve peed, he’s dragging you by the waist to pull you against his chest and he’s out. 

~~~

masterlist

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[luigisleftshoe]

Husband Luigi Headcanons

Ugh i just have to start with a proposal bc he would be so stressed all day. Like the man would be on the edge of his seat the entire day and you ask him what's wrong and he's just like “what! Me! Nothing! Why would you think that🤨?”

He would want the proposal to be very private just the two of you but also very special. He's shy ok? What if you say no? Who would say no to him? Honestly he would probably propose on a hike. But like not a normal hike it would have to be both of your special nature spots and he would be like “let's do a picnic there” and you do and boom he proposes. 

Ok lowkey i feel like he would want to do an elopement like something very intimate just the two of you and then like on your one year anniversary he would do the actual wedding party with friends and family. Because like yes he wants to celebrate with friends and family and such but he also feels like this should be a private sacred moment ya know? Like just the two of you with the officiant, no one there to mess it up, no stress of putting on production, just two people that love each other. Then, on your one-year anniversary, that’s when he’d throw the real wedding. The party. The family celebration. The toast. The formalwear. The photos. But the vows? The real vows? Those were for just you and him.

But the actual married life part! WOWWY be prepared for your health nut husband!

He cannot stop calling you “wife” like it's a new pokemon he just unlocked. The man MILKS it. Say “my wife” instead of “you” even in private. Correct people when they say your name: “You mean my wife?” You cough once and he's like, “Careful that's my legally-bound domestic soulmate right there.” its like 40% a bit and 60% disbelief that he actually got to marry you

He overfunctions so hard the first week it's almost stressful. Rearranges the spice rack three times. Researchers optimal mattress firmness. Unironically joins r/BestMattresses4MarriedCouples reddit. Uses a leveler to hang photos at 11:45 pm. And when you tell him to chill, he's like: “I just want everything to be perfect. For you. For us. Is that a crime??”

He doesn't sleep unless he's touching you. Not in a sexy way (ok sometimes it is). But mostly in a soft grounding “if you're not here i literally cannot turn off my brain way.” Grabs your arms in his sleep. Spoons you like, his life depends on it. Mumbles in the dark: “You're not leaving, right? Not like, in a dream way. Like in a literal way.” When you say no he instantly relaxes like a switch. 

Nonstick pans are banned in your house. Everything that he's health conscious about for himself he's suddenly about you and he's like “we need to be the healthiest longest living married couple to ever exist.”

He will definitely randomly spiral about being enough. Like you'll be folding towels and hell go quiet, and then out of nowhere hell be like “You don't regret this right? Like marrying me. You'd tell me if you did?” And he's not doing it to fish for compliments, it's because under the weight of being so deeply loved and in love scares him. When you come down and hug him saying “you're the only thing that ever made sense.” Hes sat. 

He flirts like an absolute menace even more so. Fixes the sink shirtless and says “who needs plumber when you've got a husband with pipes?” Flexes while carrying groceries: “Bet you're glad you married this.” But the second you say “I am. You're so hot.” He malfunctions like “error 404 not found.” and is like “Oh–uh. Thanks. Wait. no. like–yes. You too. I mean. Fuck.” 

He turns cleaning into an olympic sport. But only when you're watching. Will vacuum in full athletic shorts, blasting music, dancing like an idiot, and pausing to point at you mid spin like: “Tell me i'm the hottest man alive. Dont lie.” (He knocks over a lamp and apologizes to it. Not to you.) 

Hes not materialistic at all but he is DEEPLY deeply sentimental. He keeps your first grocery receipt, a cork from the wine you drank watching Shrek 2 the night after your elopement, and your old hoodie tage from when you gave it to him in college. Labels them in a little box under your bed. Refers to it as “our marriage museum.”

The way he never lets you carry heavy grocery bags. You could be holding a single loaf of bread and he’s yanking it out of your hands like,“No. You’re the delicate one. You’re precious cargo.” Meanwhile he’s stacking six grocery bags up each arm, refusing help, almost knocking over a grandma in the parking lot and almost pulling his back again.

He sends you ridiculous voice memos when you’re apart. Like 40-second rants about how the grocery store is out of your favorite yogurt. Or him dramatically whispering,“The guy at Starbucks called me 'boss.' I feel unstoppable. You married a legend.”

Cooking turns into flirt battles.You try to flip a pancake? He sneaks up behind you, wraps his arms around your waist, and tries to "coach" you like a horny Food Network contestant. Whispers dumb shit like:“You’re so hot when you cook. Bet you’ll be even hotter on the kitchen counter.” (He 100% burns the second batch because he’s too busy trying to kiss you.)

He's too competitive about dumb couple activities.Escape room date?He’s mapping the entire room like it’s a Navy SEAL mission. Mini golf? He’s trash talking you under his breath like,“Hope you’re ready to get destroyed, Mrs. Mangione.”

His ultimate weakness: you wearing his last name casually. You call to set up an appointment and say "Mrs. Mangione" on the phone and he hears it from the next room, immediately trips over his own feet getting to you. Blushes for an hour after.

Babe is like deeply deeply empathetic to like a fault. Like he will pick up on your moods instantly and it will get even more immediate when your married. Senses you're stressed = immediate forehead kiss. Senses you’re sad = wraps himself around you like an emotional scarf. Senses you're mad at him = quiet slow spiral until you talk it out because he cannot handle "weird vibes."

Gym bro tendencies, but only for the validation. If you call him hot after he works out?He will literally flex like: “This is all for you, baby. All these gains. Yours.”

Ok i know i said hes very much not materialistic but he would buy one item of random “husband” merch and wear it unironically. Like a tshirt that says #1 husband. Apron that says “kiss the husband” in comic sans. Or a hat that justs says “married” across the front. He thinks its hilarious and hell wear them out in public with no shame. Itll become his new BALI shirt.

Has a “wife playlist” he only plays when he misses you too much. Not public. Not shared. You catch him playing it on the speaker when you’re out of the house too long. You tease him and he turns bright red like: “Shut up. It’s an emotional regulation playlist.”

He leaves you stupid but sweet handwritten notes in random places. Not "good morning" ones, weirder ones: “Congratulations, you found the secret note! The prize is a kiss.” (taped inside the fridge), “Husband still loves you. Update: More than yesterday.” (inside your laptop), “Do not panic. You are my favorite.” (on the laundry detergent)

You joke about a baby once and he laughs a little too loud. But deep down? He’s spiraling like “Could I even be a good dad? Would I mess it up? What if I’m too immature still? What if I disappoint her?” He is incredibly terrified of having kids. Not like he doesn't want them but like He trusts himself. He trusts you. But he doesn’t trust the outside.The economy. Climate change.Violence. All the things that could hurt something he helped create.And it gnaws at him in a quiet way — not when you’re laughing on the couch, but when the news is on at 2AM and you're asleep on his chest. He doesn’t tell you that immediately, but you catch him absentmindedly rubbing your back while zoning out. If you bring it up casually, he jokes it off at first. “Yeah sure babe, let’s just throw a kid into this apocalypse. Sounds great.” (Said half-joking, half-aching.) Or:“You really want them to grow up eating protein powder and vibing in a collapsing society? Babe...” (He smiles but it’s tight.)

His biggest fear is that he wouldn’t be able to protect them — or you. Not "I wouldn't love them." Not "I don't want them." But "I can't promise they'll be safe. And that kills me." He doesn’t say that outright until one night when you’re half asleep and he mumbles into your hair:"I’d do anything to protect you. I’d do anything to protect them too. But the world’s bigger than me, babe. And I hate that."

If you ever convince him? It won’t be a decision made lightly. It’ll take years of trust, love, hope-building. You’ll have to show him that even if the world burns, you’ll be a family inside the fire. And once he’s in? HE’S IN.

Fixes stuff around the house while muttering about “future-proofing for little feet.” (You catch him once researching how to child-proof cabinets before you’re even trying for kids. He slams the laptop shut in shame.)

[ribbonedreverie]

A Taste of You

A Chuuya Happy Birthday special

The apartment was dim except for the halo of golden light circling the table—four little candles stabbing into a crooked, imperfect cake. The room smelled like butter, vanilla, and something warmer beneath: Effort. Sacrifice. Love.

You stood by the table, wiping your hands nervously against the fabric of your bottoms. You’d changed into something soft and simple—not seductive, but comfortable. Honest. You wanted him to see you as you were: someone who couldn’t afford much, but loved him so hard it ached.

You heard his keys at the door. His shoes hitting the floor. Then the weight of the day falling off his shoulders. The light from the hallway spilled into the room—and then, silence.

“…What the hell?” Chuuya murmured, voice gravelly with confusion and fatigue. He stepped inside slowly, his hair wind-tossed under his hat and his coat slung over his shoulder. His eyes found yours—and softened instantly.

You looked so gentle in the candlelight. So nervous. Like your entire heart was standing there on trembling legs. “Happy birthday,” you said, your voice barely more than a whisper.

He blinked once. Then again. “You remembered.”

“I never forgot.” He took another step forward. His gaze flicked to the cake, then back to you. “Did you… bake that?” You nodded, biting your lip. “I know it’s not pretty. I messed up the frosting, and I didn’t have the money to buy decorations, but—”

Chuuya reached you in two strides, his gloved hand lifting to cradle the side of your face. “Hey.” His voice was low, steady. “You made me a cake. You made me this.” His thumb stroked the edge of your cheek. “You think I give a damn what it looks like?”

Your throat tightened.

“I just wanted to make today feel… real. Like someone was happy you were born.” He exhaled, and it sounded like something heavy breaking. And then—he kissed you.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t fiery. It was slow and aching, the kind of kiss you only give someone when you need them like air. His lips molded against yours, warm and searching, his hand sliding back into your hair. You melted into him, breath catching as he deepened the kiss—gentle at first, then hungrier.

When he pulled back, his forehead pressed to yours. His breath fanned your lips. “You could’ve given me just that,” he said hoarsely, “and it would’ve been the best birthday I’ve had in years.” Your hands clutched at his shirt, anchoring yourself. “I wanted you to feel loved.”

“I do.” He kissed your temple, then your cheekbone. “God, I do.” He eased you back a step until your hips touched the edge of the table, the candles flickering. “Can I try it?” he asked softly. You nodded. He released his grip on you, stepped to the side and sliced a piece of the lopsided cake. You watched his movements—graceful, deliberate—even as your breath stuttered from how close he stood. He took a bite. Chewed. Swallowed. Then looked at you like you’d just offered him something sacred. “It tastes like you,” he murmured. You blinked. “Wh-What does that mean?”

He set the fork down, brushed the plates aside just enough to clear space, and closed the distance between you. His hands found your waist, guiding you gently until you were seated on the cleared edge of the table—beside the cake now. The candles flickered behind you. You gasped as he leaned down to whisper:

“Sweet. Soft. Fucking addictive.” His voice dipped lower. “Now I’m starving.”

You trembled. “Chuuya—”

His hands gripped your waist tighter as he pulled you against him, his nose brushing along your cheek, down your jaw, over your pulse. “You pour your soul into everything, don’t you?” he murmured, kissing the underside of your jaw. “Even a damn cake.”

“I didn’t have anything else to give,” you whispered, fingers clutching his shirt like a lifeline.

“Yes, you did,” he rasped. “You gave me you. That’s more than I’ve ever had.”

He laid you down onto the table, careful of the candles, careful of your clothing. His hands ran up your thighs as he stepped between your legs, his breath thick with emotion and want. “Let me thank you properly,” he whispered, lips grazing yours. You exhaled shakily, threading your fingers through his hair. “Please.”

And then—he kissed you again, slower, deeper. It wasn’t rushed or carnal. It was worship. It was hunger buried in love. His hands moved with aching patience, memorizing every inch of you like you were a prayer he’d never learned to say out loud.

Time melted while the candles burned low. And between cake crumbs and kisses, you made him feel more wanted, more human, than all the fine wines and tailored suits in the world ever had.

[lovetaroandtaemin]

Apologies in Acrylic Yarn

Lee Jihoon (Seventeen) x Reader

Word Count: 4,529 Genre: Angst, Fluff AUs: Non idol AU, established relationship Rating: SFW, however I still ask that MINORS DNI WITH THIS BLOG!

Summary: After you and Jihoon get into an argument, he decides to make sure that you know just how much he loves you.

Warnings: Arguments, Jihoon dealing with stress in unhealthy ways, Reader thinks that he's cheating but he isn't. If you think I missed a warning, please let me know!

Nets: @cosyhomenet, @k-vanity, @keopihaus, @newworldnet, @svthub, @thediamondlifenetwork

A/N: This fic is a slightly late birthday gift for the absolutely fucking amazing @chugging-antiseptic-dye. I hope you like it, honey, and I hope that your birthday was as special as you are to me. I also want to take a moment and acknowledge the lovely @nothoughtsjustfic because of all of her help with planning this fic and hyping me up while I was writing it! I appreciate you more than words can say, my love.

Taglist: @xomakara, @okiedokrie-main, @notyourjaem, @heechwe, @shadowkoo, @gyubakeries, @aeristudios

Fic is under the cut.

Very few people seemed to appreciate you the way that Jihoon did. There wasn’t a single day that went by where the man you loved either told you or showed you that he loved you just as much, if not more. He cherished every single thing you crocheted for him, whether you were satisfied with the end result yourself or not. He listened when you needed a shoulder to cry on, whether the problem you were having seemed big or small. He even sang you to sleep most nights, with a voice that sounded like the epitome of warmth and comfort.

Over the past few months, however, Jihoon had grown distant. You didn’t really understand why, though. At first, he blamed family obligations and extra stress at work, and you believed him, because they seemed like reasonable explanations. As time passed, however, and the obligations that should have been met with no issue were stretched seemingly endlessly, you started to doubt him.

A small part of you felt guilty for even entertaining the thought that Jihoon might be cheating. After all, he’d never given you a reason to doubt his loyalty before. As time went on, however, and the man that you loved seemed to stop treating you like he loved you too, you couldn’t help but wonder if he was really up late texting his sister like he claimed.

It was a matter of time before the combined loneliness that stemmed from the ever-growing distance between you and Jihoon and the anxiety that ate away at you as you wondered if he still loved you grew to be too much for you to handle. With no idea what else to do, you decided to just have a conversation with him and hopefully clear the air once and for all.

Of course, things rarely played out the way you hoped that they would.

The conversation with Jihoon was a disaster. In his defense, you probably shouldn’t have started the conversation immediately after the two of you got home from work, but you couldn’t help but think that the conversation would have ended poorly regardless.

It started when you called Jihoon to your shared bedroom shortly after arriving home and said, “Can we talk?”

“Yeah, of course. Is everything alright, my love?” he asked, hands and voice shaky.

“What’s going on with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been distant lately. Is something wrong? Did I do something?”

“Nothing’s wrong, baby. Just been busy with work, and you know how Nayeon is,” he answered with a roll of his eyes at the mention of his sister.

“The way you’ve been acting lately makes it seem like there’s more to it than that. Just tell me what’s really going on, please?” you said, desperate for answers.

“That is what’s really going on. You know that Seungcheol has been up my ass lately about project deadlines, and you know that my family hasn’t left me alone since the fight with Nayeon a few weeks ago.”

“Then why are you so much more distant than usual? You’ve had work and family problems before, and you’ve never shut me out like this. Again, I have to ask, what’s going on?” Jihoon refused to answer until you sighed and mumbled, “Is there someone else?”

“No, there isn’t,” he spat, insulted that you would even ask. “Why the fuck would you think that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because you’ve spent weeks pulling away and refuse to work with me to find a solution?”

“Look, it’s not my fault that everything decided to happen at once.”

With a defeated sigh, you said, “I know, but I’m fucking tired, Ji. I miss when you made me feel loved. Like I was the love of your life. Where did that go?”

Jihoon didn’t answer. Instead, he looked at you like he didn’t recognize you anymore, and that hurt more than even the possibility that he’d been unfaithful.

“I need to know what else is going on,” you said again.

“There’s nothing else going on. Honey, please. Just trust me.”

There was a beat of silence before you sighed and said, “Forget it, Jihoon. I’m going to Jeongyeon’s tonight.”

“Love, please let me-” he began. When he saw the look of venom in your eyes, however, he stopped and instead said, “Ok. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You stepped out of your apartment without saying another word to Jihoon after that, calling Jeongyeon and asking if you could spend the night at her apartment once you were outside. Once she reminded you that you didn’t need to ask, you left, trying desperately to let yourself have a little bit of hope that you could clear your mind and figure out how to move forward. As you thought about the situation more, however, the hope that had started to bloom in your chest wilted like a dying rose.

When you decided to approach Jihoon about the problems that the two of you had been having, you were certain that whatever was going on could be resolved together. As you drove through your city, however, screaming along with the songs about heartbreak and loneliness that blasted from your radio and thinking about everything that had gone wrong during the actual conversation, you found yourself feeling less certain about your relationship than you’d ever felt about anything before.

As Jihoon watched you leave your apartment, clearly fighting back tears, he was overcome with guilt. Sure, he’d been stressed lately, between mounting responsibilities at work and constantly arguing with his family, but he honestly hadn’t thought that he’d let it affect your relationship. The more he thought about it, though, the more he realized that he’d fucked up.

For the first time in the entirety of your relationship, Jihoon was terrified of losing you. For years, he’d been so sure that the two of you would be ok, no matter what this life decided to throw your way. However, when he remembered how utterly defeated you looked as you left the apartment, he wasn’t exactly as confident as he had been when he left for work that morning.

Regardless, Jihoon was determined to make it right and prove to you that he loved you more than anyone he’d ever loved before. The only problem was that he wasn’t quite sure how. For the first time in his life, he had no earthly idea how to fix the problem that he’d created. That didn’t mean that he was going to do nothing, though. While he considered bigger, more elaborate plans to show you just how much you meant to him, he decided to start with a note.

Jihoon must have written and rewritten that note a dozen times before he settled on something that he was satisfied with. He knew that it was too soon to try to talk to you, so he just left the note on your nightstand, figuring that you’d see it when you came home from Jeongyeon’s place. Then, he lay down in your shared bed and tried to sleep.

When you got to Jeongyeon’s apartment, you softly knocked on the door and waited for an answer. You didn’t have to wait long, though. Before you knew it, your best friend was opening the door and pulling you into a hug that threatened to crush your bones as she asked, “What happened?”

“We got in a fight,” you answered, fighting back tears.

“Do you wanna talk about it, or do you wanna play some games and do bad karaoke?”

You laughed softly at her offer and said, “All of the above?”

“Sounds good to me. Come on in,” she said as she let go.

You followed Jeongyeon through the door and into her cleaner-than-usual living room, where your friends Dahyun and Tzuyu sat on the couch talking about something you couldn’t quite hear. When they heard footsteps, however, they turned toward you with smiles on their faces, and Dahyun practically yelled your name as she jumped up and threw her arms around in a hug that threatened to knock you off your feet.

“Where have you been?” Dahyun asked, ecstatic to see you again.

“I’ve been busy with work and Jihoon problems,” you answered.

“What happened with Jihoon, by the way?” Tzuyu asked quietly, like she wasn’t entirely sure if the question she was asking was the right one.

“We got in an argument,” you said with a sigh of defeat. “I thought he was cheating, and he says that he wasn’t, keeps blaming work and family, but he’s been so distant lately. We argued because he just won’t talk to me. I got tired of it, so I called Jeongyeon and came here.”

When you were finished your explanation, Dahyun seemed like she’d deflated, Tzuyu looked like she wanted to comfort you but didn’t know how, and Jeongyeon looked like she was about to kill someone, probably Jihoon. The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop until Jeongyeon took a deep breath and said, “You don’t deserve that.”

And that was when the floodgates finally opened.

You hadn’t cried at all during your argument with Jihoon. You were too angry about what he said to you in the moment to acknowledge the underlying sadness that his actions had caused. Now that the flames of anger had cooled, however, you were a wreck. It started small, with a few stray tears that left your eyes as you remembered the way that your relationship used to be. When you felt your best friend pull you into another hug, however, the few stray tears escalated into heart wrenching sobs that made your entire body shake.

Jeongyeon held you through your tears, rubbing your back while Dahyun and Tzuyu whispered soft reassurances that everything would be ok. It took a long time for you to stop crying and catch your breath, but having your friends by your side still made it easier than it would have been on your own.

Once you collected yourself, you sighed and said, “Thanks, guys. You’re the best.”

Tzuyu was the first to speak, replying, “We’re always here for you, (Y/N).”

A comfortable silence settled over the room while the four of you enjoyed each other’s presence and truly found peace in the knowledge that you would always have each other’s backs. The silence didn’t last, however, since almost as soon as it began, you started to cry again. This time, however, your tears were tears of joy instead of pain, the happiness that you found in your friends suddenly feeling overwhelming.

You weren’t sure how much longer you cried before you were able to catch your breath. Once you collected yourself, though, you grinned and said, “Now, how about some card games and karaoke?”

Dahyun let out a laugh that almost sounded like it came from a cartoon villain before she said, “I’m singing the first song!”

The four of you started your evening of fun with a game of Uno that you were sure would have ended your friendship if it hadn’t been for the situation that had brought you to Jeongyeon’s, with Dahyun deciding early on in the game to sabotage everyone else as often as humanly possible. In the end, however, it was Tzuyu that won, with her quiet demeanor and the fact that she seemed to struggle to understand the rules of the game lulling everyone into a false sense of security.

After the game ended, and the karaoke started, you and your friends didn’t have a care in the world. You took turns singing your favorite songs, with Jeongyeon even joining in for a turn or two, and in between, you talked about anything and everything. As you laughed at a dumb joke that Dahyun told, you felt noticeably lighter, and you couldn’t help but feel grateful that you had friends in your life that you knew would always be there for you.

Once you and your friends got to the point that you could barely keep your eyes open, you sighed and said, “Thanks, guys. I really needed this today.”

“It was no problem,” Jeongyeon replied with a grin of her own. “You know I love spending time with you.”

“I should probably go soon,” Tzuyu said apologetically. “I have to get to work early tomorrow.”

An exaggerated pout formed on your face before you said, “It was great to see you. We should do this again soon,” and pulled her into a hug.

Dahyun sighed and said, “I should leave soon, too. I want to go to sleep,” hugging you before she left.

When it was just you and Jeongyeon left in her apartment, she turned to you with a soft smile and said, “Guest room is ready. I got out the good pillows earlier.”

“Thanks. Seriously.”

“Don’t mention it. Good night.”

“Night!” you said as you made your way to Jeongyeon’s guest room, your friend heading to her own room for the night. Once you were settled in bed, you found that you didn’t dread going home to Jihoon in the morning like you thought you would. Instead, you felt refreshed and ready to take on whatever came your way when you saw your boyfriend again.

The next morning, Jihoon was devastated that he woke up without you for the first time since before the two of you moved in together a year ago. Still, he knew that it was his fault, so he couldn’t really be upset, could he?

Yes, he could.

Not wanting to think about how upset he was anymore, Jihoon decided to try and come up with solutions to the fact that you were feeling unloved. He struggled to think at first, but all it took was a quick look around your shared bedroom to come up with something that he knew would cheer you up: he would learn how to crochet and make you a tangible reminder of just how much he loved you.

Jihoon didn’t want to use any of your yarn, since he was worried about you noticing it missing and ruining the surprise. So, he took advantage of the fact that he had a rare day off from work and drove to the nearest craft store. As he drove, he remembered the first time that you’d tried to teach him how to crochet. He could barely hold the hook and yarn the right way, and the seemingly simple stitches themselves were an unanticipated challenge, but the time with you was worth the hand cramps and frustration, in his eyes.

After choosing yarn in colors that he knew you’d like and finding the appropriately sized hook, Jihoon went home and looked for a pattern. In hindsight, he probably should have selected a pattern before he bought the yarn, but it was too late to go back.

Once Jihoon found a pattern that looked easy enough to follow, he got to work. It was a struggle, to say the least, but every moment of frustration was worth it. After all, he was determined to show you a fraction of the love that you’d shown him over the years.

When Jihoon heard you come in the front door, he carefully put the yarn and hook back into the bag he’d brought it home in and tucked it under your shared bed, not wanting to ruin the surprise. Then, he sighed and made his way to the living room, stopping in his tracks when he finally laid eyes on you.

Your smile fell when you finally saw Jihoon standing in your living room, but you reluctantly pulled him into a hug and said, “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I never meant to make you feel like I don’t love you. You have to know that,” he responded, eyes welling with tears as he spoke.

“I know,” you said with a defeated sigh. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. More than you’ll ever know.”

The two of you stayed where you were in awkward silence for what felt like an eternity, taking in each other’s presence as you each made silent promises to the other to keep trying. You were the first to break the silence when you asked, “Don’t you have to get ready for work soon?”

Jihoon shook his head and said, “I asked for a day off a few weeks ago. I wanted to surprise you.”

Your eyes filled with tears as you asked, “Really?”

“Really. What do you wanna do today, love?”

“Can we just stay in and cuddle today? I’ve missed you.”

“That sounds perfect, my love,” Jihoon replied as he let go of you and made his way to your shared bedroom. You followed him, and once you both reached your room, he grabbed your hand and pulled you toward your nightstand, earning a soft laugh from you.

Once you were in front of the nightstand, you noticed a piece of paper sitting on top of the book that you’d been reading. When you saw it, you turned to Jihoon and asked, “Did you leave this here?”

He nodded and said, “It’s everything that I wanted to say last night and couldn’t.”

With a hint of a smile on your face, you turned back toward your nightstand and picked up the tear-stained piece of paper. In Jihoon’s neat handwriting, the note said:

“I’m so sorry I ever made you feel unloved, my darling. Truthfully, I’ve pulled away because the combined stress of extra responsibilities at work and the constant fighting with my family has been overwhelming, and I was concerned that I’d be a burden if I clung to you like I really wanted to when life got to be too much. But now that you’ve left, and I find myself worrying that you won’t want to come back, I don’t know what to do with myself. You’re the only person that I’ve ever loved the way that I love you, and there are no words for the way that you make me feel. I need you to know that regardless of when or even if you choose to come home, my heart will always be yours.

All my love, Jihoon”

Your lover was filled with anxiety as he watched you read the note that he’d written the night before. However, when you carefully placed the note back on your nightstand and threw your arms around him, almost knocking him over in the process, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Your bedroom was silent for what felt like an eternity until you let out a shaky breath and said, “I love you. You know that you’re not a burden, right?”

Jihoon let out a shaky breath of his own, fighting back tears as he said, “I love you too. I was just so worried about being too much.”

“You could never be too much, baby. Next time, just tell me that you’re feeling stressed, ok? I’ll understand, I promise.”

“Ok. I’m sorry I pulled away.”

You didn’t respond verbally, but the way you hugged Jihoon, like he’d disappear if you let go for even a second, was enough of an indicator that you’d forgiven him. He didn’t speak either, too relieved that you were still there to think straight.

You and Jihoon stayed still for what felt like an eternity before he let go of you just enough to look you in the eyes and asked, “How about we move to the bed? I think it’ll be more comfortable.”

You chuckled at his question and replied, “So do I,” as you pulled him into bed with you.

You and Jihoon spent the entire day cuddled up in bed, talking about whatever came to mind as you took advantage of the surprise time to just enjoy each other’s company. As you relaxed in your boyfriend’s arms, you felt the tiniest bit better about your argument the night before, and the feeling of hope that you’d desperately needed started to settle inside of you once again.

When the day finally turned to night, Jihoon made sure that you fell asleep first. Once he was certain that you were asleep, he got out of bed, taking care not to wake you in the process. Then, he dug the bag out from under the bed and settled in your living room, struggling through the bag that he was attempting to make for you to keep your crochet hooks in. After he made what he felt was sufficient progress for the night, he got back into bed with you, grateful that you hadn’t woken up while he was out of bed.

The next day, Jihoon had to go back to work. A small part of you was anxious that the peace that you’d found in each other the day before wouldn’t last if you were completely honest. But when he smiled at you as he walked out the door, you found yourself feeling much more confident.

After your argument, Jihoon didn’t let a single day go by without telling you, and showing you, that he loved you. When you were feeling down, he was there with cuddles and your favorite movies ready to watch. When the two of you had free time to spare, you played board games and chatted about your day. You let yourself hope that the two of you could be ok.

What meant the most to you, though, was the fact that Jihoon actually let you in when the stress of the world around him got to be too much. On the days that he was overwhelmed by the amount of responsibility he had at work; he talked to you instead of pushing you away. On the days that he was too angry to speak because of yet another argument with his mother and sister, he wrote you notes to tell you how he was feeling and make sure that you understood that he wasn’t upset with you. Progress was slow at first, of course, but as time went on, you finally felt like you had the man that you loved back.

For the next several weeks, Jihoon spent basically every free moment that he wasn’t with you adding on to your gift. The pattern was simple once he got the hang of it, so he didn’t struggle with making it. The problem with that was that his time to work was limited to an hour or two after you went to bed, since both of you tended to go to bed late. Still, he used the limited time that he had well, and before he knew it, the bag was ready.

Still, Jihoon finished the bag relatively quickly, all things considered. Coincidentally, he finished the last few steps of the project the night before your birthday. He honestly couldn’t believe his luck, considering he’d been so distracted he hadn’t had time to go out and buy something like he typically did. A small part of him felt guilty for that, but when he looked at the finished bag, he felt a sense of pride at the fact that he made something that he knew you would use, which eased the guilt.

When Jihoon was finished admiring his handiwork, he carefully stowed it away in its hiding place and got back into bed with you. After he found a comfortable position, he held you close and took a deep breath, finally letting himself relax.

When you woke up on your birthday, you were disappointed to find that Jihoon wasn’t still in bed with you. You wondered if he’d gone to work early, but you didn’t have long to wonder, since you heard his voice coming from the kitchen almost immediately.

You got out of bed and walked out to the kitchen, and what you saw almost made you burst into tears. There was Jihoon, cooking pancakes and singing along with the music that was playing from his phone, looking lighter than a feather as he danced at the stove. With a soft smile on your face and butterflies in your stomach, you said, “Hi, handsome.”

“Happy birthday, beautiful,” he said, smiling when he heard your voice. “Pancakes are almost ready.”

You stepped closer to where he stood and kissed his cheek before you said, “Thank you, baby.”

“Go sit down at the table, and I’ll bring everything over when it’s ready.”

“Ok. I love you.”

“I love you too, my darling.”

You sat down at your kitchen table, singing along with Jihoon’s playlist with him while he finished cooking the pancakes and fixed two plates. Once the plates were ready, he brought them to the table and sat down with you. With a smile on your face, you said, “Thank you.”

“It’s the least I could do for my darling on their birthday.” You smiled at his words, and he added, “Wait here.”

“Why? What are you-” you started to ask, but before you could get the words out, he’d disappeared into your room.

You waited patiently for Jihoon to come back, wondering what the hell he was doing. You figured he was probably looking for something, though, considering the muffled swearing and the sounds of things falling that you could hear from your place in the kitchen.

When Jihoon came back, he was clearly out of breath, but he was also visibly excited, holding something behind his back and smiling like he knew something that you didn’t. You opened your mouth to speak, but before you could, he said, “I hope that you like it,” and handed you your gift.

You looked down at the familiar-feeling item in your hands and realized that it was a crocheted pouch, brightly colored and carefully made. You carefully examined it, running your hands over the stitches and admiring the colors. Then, with tears in your eyes and a smile on your face, you hesitantly asked, “Did you make this?”

He nodded and said, “I thought that it might be helpful to have one place to store all of your hooks since you always seem so frustrated when you lose one.”

“Thank you. I love you,” you responded as you stood from your chair and pulled him into a bone-crushing hug.

“I love you too, my darling,” he said, his voice breaking as he tried to fight back the tears of joy that threatened to spill over. “I just wanted to show you that.”

There was a brief silence before you asked, “Can we stay in today and cuddle?”

“Of course, my love.”

“Thank you.”

With that, you let go of Jihoon and placed your gift on the table, and the two of you worked together to clean your shared kitchen, taking your time since both of you were off from work for the day. When you were done, you practically dragged him to your bedroom and plopped into bed. Then, he carefully got into bed next to you and pulled you close to him. Once you were both settled, he sighed and asked, “Are we ok?”

You kissed his nose and answered, “Yeah, we’re ok.”

“Thank you. Happy birthday, my darling. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Ji.”

Thank you for reading, everyone! If you enjoyed this fic, please like and reblog! If you wanna check out my other works, my masterlist is here. If you'd like to see some of the things I have planned to post in the future, my upcoming works list is here. If none of that interests you, or there's something specific that you'd like to see, feel free to send a request via asks or dms! If you want to be tagged in future posts, my taglist form can be found here!

Thank you again for reading and interacting with this fic, and happy belated birthday, A!

[losver07]

lmao it's fine i wouldnt care much about repeating tbh, i think slowing down a bit might be good for me :)

"why am i always sick? well you see, every full moon i— seriously mate i have a fucking chronic illness, and you have a problem with being nosey. god, i'm not allowed to break bones anymore? for fucks sake"

i mean please look at him and tell me that's not a baby version of timothee. like a special edition lmaoo

oof yea i get that :((

yeah!!! like it happens to me with writing & drawing, my hand just doesn't wanna pick a side lol

obv it makes sense babe we share a braincell

yuppp she's lowkey crazy so it's fun to hear from my bedroom lmao. anyway they've broken up now so ig i won't see her until..... tomorrow probably (and then three days later aprox they'll break up again, so fun)

YES have you seen futurama cause i think there's a chapter where they have a time machine and it's like. the same shit over and over again. like there's a ton of liberty statues buried one on top of each other. gosh that show is my childood

AXOLOTLS ARE SO FUCKING CUTE!!!!! and yea moles are awesome. i identify as a mole when im out in the sun (astigmatism)

oh definitely we should french revolutionise her. and yup the stuff she says does not even make sense?? like did an actual human being say that??? idk it makes me depressed tbh she's having a huge economical impact in the worst stuff when she could be donating to orgs that at least don't harm anybody. like ok, you don't like trans ppl. fine. you can donate to OTHER stuff. idk, help orphan children? she should care about them taking into account hp.

i honestly think she's just stubborn and wants to piss us all off. i took a look at her birth chart some time ago and i think she's a leo so yea. she think she the loudest roarer but we used to screamin our lungs out!!!!

↑ idk what that was i just woke up if you couldn't tell :)

i mean how could i reject a cute doggo pic.....

YES IM CONVINCED ITS THEIR REINCARNATION!!!

lmaooo im suuuuch a shakespeare (im not i say dumb shit so the occasional smart shit sounds exceptional)

YAY ill be listening tomorrow hehehee

lol no please god i cannot let my tumblr comments be better than my actual writing jsbckdbckd

okay i can confirm the brush is not that bad. but the expensive ones last years and this one is probably gonna last two months at best (again, can't complain for 4€)

REMUS REEINCARNATION???? we need to find the rest. it's a quest.

sorry did i hear shark tooth collection???? 1. yes that smells like neurospice 2. THAT IS SO FUCKING COOL WTF

in my case i think both my parents have something going on lol, like i very clearly got the ocd from my mum but my dad has over 2k books and probably around 100 game consoles at home so..... (also he has like 6 copies of the divine comedy which is fun cause of course you need six of em dad, sure)

anyway not complaining cause i can play street fighter in a big ass arcade machine :)

not sims but if i wake up from a coma and they tell me i've been dreaming everything since 2020 i would fully believe it. literally every single aspect of my life changed that year. crazy. a lil too crazy...

nuh uh i totally didn't adapt my fashion sense to a fandom.... that's embarrassinggggg......

WE THE FUKIN BEST!!!!

oh shit we already do that LMAO, i have one w a wolf howling at the moon (cause we're cubs but also.... rjl) and one w just the cover of the dark side of the moon. and i have a bowie one in my scarf but that's second hand shopped i fear. we have a lot of meme pins it's scarily funny (the most popular one is the "I DONT SELL COOKIES" one)

you ARE a disney princess like whatttt that's so sweet!!! poor birdie i hope it's okay :(

this is one of the best interactions in the history of tumblr btw. like wtf

"my child is fine" ma'am your child prioritises memorising every single full moon that happened in 1975 over their schoolwork

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

A note on "Miraculous treads on very much explored territory and still fails epically".

Thomas Astruc used to work (as a crew member, not a leader, but still) on W. I. T. C. H.

Which is:

A magical girl show with team dynamics

A show that mixes episodic and serialized format

A show where two the male romantic interests have a massive role (Caleb is a main character on par with the six girls, and Matt has an epic character arc)

A show with a strong mystery element

A show with manipulative villains (sometimes with schemes reaolved within an episode! And sometimes longer), villains that turn out to be family members, sympathetic villains, loathsome villains... Great, complex villains, almost all of them

A mean girl quasi-redemption arc

A show that does all of the aforementioned elements very well. Also, better diversity despite being 10 years older.

Yet when I watch ML, I see no inspiration (despite many common motifs), no lessons learned, no indication that the lead writer ever got anything from the experience working on that show. Unless the lesson was "W. I. T. C. H. got cancelled after two seasons, so everything about the show was wrong and we should do ML differently".

(Mind you, WITCH got more plot in two seasons than ML did in five, and still wrapped up the story fairly well)

Sorry for the rant. I kinda know that the explanation for "why is ML not like that" is "ML is forced to be an episodic show against its will", but also.

ML is trying very hard to pretend that it's More Than an Episodic Show and Not Only for Kids, and really doesn't measure up with shows with seemingly similar premises.

(Post that inspired this ask)

Before we get into it, if anyone likes fun theme songs and missed the American opening to W.I.T.C.H.'s first season then I have a treat for you!!!

Top tier opening song! Other countries were robbed!

Anyway, I agree with everything you said and this ask got me curious about the writing staff. I started doing some digging and a lot of them appear to have worked on other shows that would fall with the same genres as Miraculous. Many of those shows were even episodic formula shows that reserved the serialized elements for season finals and specials (looking at you Code Lyoko!) That doesn't shock me, but it does just add to my curiosity as to what the heck is going on with Miraculous.

These aren't new comers to the industry in over their heads, they're established professionals! Why are they struggling so hard to tell a good story while working with an incredibly simple premise? Why are aren't they embracing the show's limits and making it the best it can be in its chosen category? I'd love to know the full story, but alas, I likely never will. My best guess is that commercial success has got to their heads and so they're convinced that any criticism they see can't possibly be valid. At least, that's what the head writer's twitter feed seems to suggest every time I see screen caps from it...

[mothballmilkshake]

SFW Winner: https://bsky.app/profile/rosariabec.bsky.social/post/3lnb4n373nc24 NSFW Winner: https://bsky.app/profile/atinymexicanbird.bsky.social/post/3lnkhkxzpy22p SPECIAL THIRD CATEGORY because I didn't think anyone would be wild enough to make an animation! Wow! https://bsky.app/profile/magnus-mages.bsky.social/post/3lnmoqolmvc2u First of all, thank you to everyone who chose to participate in my 1 year celebration for Stolen Moments. Truly, when I started writing this I never expected it to get this long or still be going one year later.

This series is my baby, and it’s been such a delight taking you all on the journey with me. Knowing how much it means to some of you, when you tell me you feel seen because of my writing or that it helps you in any way – genuinely, it makes me a little emotional. In a good way!

I’m so thankful for the friends I’ve made in the Hazbin community and the fact it was my writing that opened those doors to me in the first place. I know there are some people who didn’t have the time, energy, etc. to participate even though they wanted to, and I appreciate the thought as well. Just the fact you cared enough about my little series to think of a scene you wanted to illustrate, whether you conceptualized it, got it down to a sketch or linework – that still means so much to me. Thank you all, from the bottom of my heart - I have posted all of the artwork in a masterpost on AO3, with links to the artists social media where applicable and the relevant chapter. Part 1 of the post on AO3 is SFW, part two is NSFW :) Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65122363/chapters/167482909 And thank you so much to @phoenix-arising for helping me put the masterpost and everything together. Including the lovely graphic above! I would be a lost Mothball rolling in the back of a cupboard without your tireless support Also @pipsqueakparker and @thedeerman for being my assistant judges for the contest, because honestly I was sobbing a little internally at making the choice - there was so much fantastic work to see.

[winchesterwild78]

The Gravity of it All

Master List

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader, Cass, Jack, and Sam

Warnings: language, mentions on death, squint for some smut.

A/N: This takes place between Season 14 and 15. I’ve been rewatching Supernatural and I’ve been thinking about how things would be different if Dean had someone in his life during this time.

This does not follow the Supernatural storyline, but does include some of the story. I do not own the rights to Supernatural or the characters.

This will also be in a few parts.

All work is my own, don’t take it. Please reblog and like. Comments and feedback are always appreciated.

Minors DNI 18+

The bunker was cold. Not the normal chill that lingered in the air, but a bone chilling cold.

After Michael broke loose and killed almost everyone in the bunker, the ones that were left scattered.

I stayed. I stayed for three reasons. One, I had nowhere else to go. Two, since being in this world they had all become my family, and three, most likely the most important reason, Dean.

I was secretly in love with him.

His green eyes always seemed to find me across the room, he taught me how to properly shoot a gun, and our late night chats in his or my room held a special place in my heart.

It started out subtle. A glance here, a wink there. The way his hand brushed against mine and when we had too much to drink his flirting hit an all time high.

When Jack protected all of us and killed Michael, we noticed a subtle shift in his personality. Dean was worried he lost all of his soul.

I rode in the Impala with him as he drove Jack to see Donatello.

Dean and I waited outside.

“Dean, do you really think his soul is completely gone?”

Dean’s eyes flicked to mine, “I’m not sure. I really don’t want it to be true, but Donnie will be able to tell us.”

I nodded and fidgeted. Dean smirked and took my hands in his, pulling me close. “Hey, come here. Don’t worry, sweetheart. Everything will be fine.”

I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest and not just because of Jack.

Then Dean’s eyes met mine again. Something shifted between us. He placed a soft kiss on my temple.

Jack and Donatello came back out. Jack and I got in the car while Dean and Donatello talked.

Dean glanced back at the car and he looked solemn. Jack was in the backseat talking about the snake and how he’s going to try other foods for him.

I nodded, but my eyes were fixed on Dean.

Dean climbed back in the car and we headed back to the bunker. The ride home was pretty quiet, with the exception of Jack talking about the snake.

Arriving back at the bunker Jack went to his room and Dean went to his. I walked to Dean’s door and softly knocked.

“Come in,” I heard Dean say. He looked up with a smile tugging at his lips, “Hey sweetheart. What brings you in here?”

I offered a soft smile, “I just wanted to check on you and see what Donatello said.” He nodded, “Well he said he thinks Jack has a soul but he’s not sure. He said Jack has a power unlike anyone and to keep an eye on him. So I’m thinking no hunts for him. He can stay here and look up lore.”

“Do you think he’ll go for that?” Dean shrugged, “Maybe. Hell, I hope so.”

I nodded and then lingered at his door. “You okay sweetheart? Is there something else on your mind?”

I nervously bit my lip, “No. Um, I’m okay. Well, good night.”

I turned to leave and Dean stood. His hand on my arm before I could walk away, “Hey, talk to me. You know you can tell me anything, right?”

I nodded. My breath hitched. How could I tell him I was in love with him?

I looked at him and swallowed. I couldn’t tell him how I felt. It would ruin our friendship and that means so much to me, so I lie. “Honestly, I’m just worried about Jack. We’ve seen how he has no control of his powers and now what’s going to happen without a soul? I’m just worried, Dean.”

Dean closed the distance between us and his eyes softened, “I know Y/N. I think we’re all a little worried. But, (his hand touched my cheek) I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

My pulse quickened and my breath hitched. I nodded and smiled.

“Hey Dean. We need to talk.” Sam announced as he walked down the hallway. Dean’s hands dropped and pulled away.

“Dean, you in here? Oh hey, Y/N.” Sam looked between Dean and I.

“Hey Sam, um I’m just leaving. Thanks Dean for the words of encouragement.” He smiled and nodded.

I walked away and let out a shaky breath.

Sam looked at Dean and smirked, “Dude, what was that about?” Dean looked at Sam, “Drop it Sammy.”

Sam shook his head, “Okay, but you know you can be happy, right?”

Dean looked at Sam again with a tense jaw, “I said drop it.” His voice almost growled. “Now what did you need?”

“I found something that might help Jack, but I think Jack should stay here.”

“Give me 5 then. We will talk to him together.” Sam nodded, “What about Y/N? Wanna take her with us?”

Dean looked at Sam and a slight smirk spread on his face, “Yeah, we can take her.”

Dean packed his bag and stopped at my door, “Hey, we’re about to head out. Wanna join?” I looked up from my book and smiled, “Yeah. Let me pack and I’ll be ready.”

He smiled and nodded then left. Sam and Jack were in the war room and Dean joined them. They told Jack to hang back in case any other hunter needed help and to let Mary know what was going on. Jack agreed and the three of us left.

I sat in the backseat with my book. I glanced up and saw Dean looking at me in the mirror. Sam noticed too, shaking his head and smiling.

I looked back down at my book and felt the heat fill my face. Did he know how I felt about him? Did he feel the same way? My head reeled with questions.

A few hours later we pulled into a hotel. Nothing fancy, just your usual roadside motel. Dean put the Impala in park as Sam ran inside to get two rooms.

When he came back he looked defeated, “hey Y/N, they didn’t have two rooms so you’ll have to bunk with us.”

“It’s okay Sam. I don’t mind. It’s not like we haven’t shared a room before.”

He nodded and opened my door for me. I grabbed my bag and slung it over my shoulder as Dean opened the door. There were two queen beds and a sofa. Dean placed his stuff on the bed closest to the door, “You can have that bed, sweetheart.” My eyes met his and I nodded. Hearing him call me sweetheart sent a shiver down my spine.

I sat my bag on the empty bed and sat on the edge.

Later that evening Sam ran into town to get food, beer and pie. Dean and I stayed behind. There was a silence that filled the room I couldn’t quite figure out how to fill.

Dean was sitting at the table by the window looking at some lore. I stood, stretched and grabbed my clothes for a shower. “Hey, um, Dean? I’m gonna jump in the shower real quick.”

Dean’s emerald eyes landed on mine and a smile twitched at his cheek. “Okay, sweetheart. I’ll be waiting.” My bottom lip instinctively went into my mouth. I bit hard, trying to keep my feelings in check. Damn he was making it hard.

I walked into the bathroom and closed the door. I turned on the water and took my clothes off. Then I realized I dropped my panties. Shit! Where did I drop them?

I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around me. As I swung open the door Dean was standing there grinning with my panties hanging from his finger. His smirk stretched to his eyes, “Drop something?” My face flushed red, “Yeah, um I’m sorry.”

He stepped closer, “Don’t be. It’s not everyday I get to see your blue lacy panties.” I tried to hide my face. The embarrassment was too much. I grabbed at my panties and he pulled them back, laughing. My body collided with his solid frame. His strong calloused hands gripped me. My breath hitched.

“Dean…I.” My voice barely a whisper. He stepped even closer, my heart pounding in my chest, “Do you want me to stop?” His voice was deep and almost primal.

I couldn’t speak, the words caught in my throat. I just shook my head no. His hand cupped my face, lifting it up to him and his soft, plump lips ghosted mine. “You sure about this, Y/N?” “Yes,” I whispered.

His lips pressed softly to mine and I melted into his arms. The sound of the water running behind me faded. All I could hear now was the drumming of my heart.

The kiss was everything and then some. It was too much and not enough at the same time. My body reacted to his lips and touch in ways it never had with anyone before. I felt the slick running down my thigh.

I moaned into his mouth and he swallowed it. His hands ran up my body. The thin white towel that separated my naked body from his did nothing to keep me from feeling his arousal. My body was on fire.

Dean’s hands slid down my sides and to the hem of the towel. His fingers lightly pressed against my thigh and danced their way up. My breathing became faster and full of want.

I wanted him and I could tell he wanted me. Nothing was going to stop what was about to happen. My mind exploded with the possibilities and as Dean’s fingers found their way under the towel, I saw his green eyes darkened with lust.

His fingers found their way to my folds and as he slipped his fingers in, feeling my arousal, the room door swung open and Sam came in.

I pulled away quickly disappearing into the bathroom as Dean growled. “Dammit Sammy!”

“Sorry Dean. I didn’t think I’d be walking into whatever that was.” He chuckled as he sat the food down.

I stood in the bathroom trying to steady my breath. I just crossed a line with Dean. Did it mean something to him? Was it just a means to an end for him? My head spun with all my thoughts. I climbed in the shower and tried to focus on getting clean, but all I could think about was his lips, hands and how his fingers felt.

“Sammy, you have the worst timing, you know that?” Dean sat and let out a frustrated sigh.

“Dean, if you had been honest with her before now you two would be together. Look, I get it. It’s hard to open yourself up, but Dean she’s a great girl and a hell of a hunter. I’ll go for a drive and be back in an hour. Talk to her!”

Sam grabbed the keys and headed to the door, “And Dean, don’t screw this up.”

Sam left and Dean stood in the middle of the room weighing his options. He was determined to tell you how he felt about you.

Dean heard the shower turn off and he took a deep breath. Sitting on his bed he faced the bathroom.

A few minutes later I came out with a rush of steam enveloping me. My eyes met Dean’s and I noticed Sam was gone.

Dean’s eyes raked over my body. Damn she’s gorgeous. Fuck! Look at her perky nipples pushing the shirt out. Dean licked his lips and cleared his throat.

“Hey, sweetheart. Can we talk?”

I nodded, grabbing my hairbrush and I sat on my bed facing him. As he talked I brushed my hair.

“Look, that was, well, amazing. If Sammy hadn’t walked in, I know where I wanted it to go. But I think we need to talk before we jump into bed together.”

I looked stunned. “I…agree.” My voice was smaller than I expected. I felt a twinge of sadness, almost like rejection.

Dean noticed and shifted towards me, “Y/N, I like you. I mean I really like you. If I’m being honest I’ve liked you since you came over from apocalypse world. You’re kind, generous, gorgeous and a badass hunter. I’d like to see where this leads. If you’re willing to.”

I blinked, not believing what I was hearing. The silence between us grew. I was in shock. Dean shifted. I took a deep breath, “Yeah I’d like that. More than you know. Dean, I’ve liked you since I first laid eyes on you in my world. You’re strong, kind, sexy as hell and the best damn hunter I’ve ever seen. You protect those around you without a second thought. You’re the kind of man who deserves everything good in life.”

Dean didn’t say anything, he just stood, pulled me up and placed a kiss on my lips. When we pulled away my face was crimson red. He chuckled, “Now where were we?”

Part 2…coming soon

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[marie098887]

"Maybe we'll meet at a bar, he'll drive a funky car."

Somewhere between a road trip and a night out, you found exactly what you weren't looking for.

Part 1: Isagi, Chigiri, Rin, Bachira, Kunigami, Reo, Nagi

📝 Requests: OPEN

It started as a simple plan, a road trip with your friends. No maps. No rules. Just music loud enough to drown out everything else and enough bad decisions to make it memorable. You didn’t expect anything serious. Not love, not anything that would last longer than the night.

But somewhere between dusty highways, pit stops and pictures, you found yourselves at a nowhere-town bar, tired, sunburned, laughing, just looking for one more memory before the night ended.

And that’s when you saw him. Not planned. Not even close.

But maybe, just maybe, the universe had better plans than you ever could’ve made.

💙 Isagi Yoichi

The one you weren't looking for. But somehow still found.

You’re halfway through your road trip, sticky with heat, half running on gas station snacks and bad sleep when your friends drag you into a random bar on the side of the highway.

It’s small. Neon signs buzzing. Music a little too loud for the number of people inside.

You’re halfway to convincing yourself this night will be nothing special when you spot him across the room, surrounded by a couple friends.

They’re laughing, shoving each other around like idiots, taking up too much space in the tiny bar.

But you’re not looking at them.

You’re looking at him.

Messy dark hair. Soft, tired eyes. A nervous smile he keeps trying to hide behind his drink.

He’s not even pretending to be smooth about it, sneaking glances your way, fiddling with the hem of his jacket, fidgeting while his friends tease him and nudge him toward you.

You look away first, feeling your face heat up. Try to focus on your drink.

But when you glance back, he’s already moving.

Hands jammed in his pockets. Awkward, determined steps.

"Hey," he says when he gets close enough, voice a little hoarse from shouting over his friends. "You from around here?"

You shake your head, smiling. "Just passing through."

Relief flickers across his face. He glances back once, where Chigiri’s giving him an exaggerated thumbs up, and turns back to you with a real smile this time.

"Cool. Uh... wanna grab a drink? I mean, if you want."

And just like that, in the middle of nowhere, in a night you almost didn’t stop for, you find yourself thinking:

Maybe you were supposed to meet him after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🌺 Chigiri Hyoma

The one who looked too good to be real. But still smiled at you.

You barely make it two steps into the bar before you see him.

It’s impossible not to.

Long red hair tied back, a white t-shirt clinging to his frame, lazy posture like he owns the room without even trying. And when he turns, catching your eye over the rim of his glass, you swear the whole place feels a little smaller.

He’s laughing at something his friends said, head tipped back slightly, a soft, easy kind of smile that makes you stare a little too long.

You look away first, embarrassed, heart thudding, pretending to be way too interested in the snack menu.

You weren't expecting anything tonight. Definitely not... him.

But when you glance back again, he’s still looking at you.

Not smug. Not cocky. Just curious.

Like maybe he’s just as surprised as you are.

You lose him for a second, distracted by your friends, pulled into a shot you didn’t ask for, but then he’s there. Closer. Leaning against the bar next to you like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

“Didn’t think I’d see someone like you here,” he says, voice low, a little teasing.

You raise an eyebrow. “Someone like me?”

He smiles, small, secretive, and shrugs. “Y'know. Someone who makes a nowhere town look... not so bad.”

It’s such a cheesy line you almost laugh, but there’s something about the way he says it, casual and easy, that makes your stomach flip.

You tell yourself it’s nothing. Just road trip luck. A good memory for the night.

But when his hand brushes yours on the bar, deliberate and light, you start to wonder if it’s something more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🐠 Rin Itoshi

The one who didn’t believe in fate. But looked at you like maybe he should.

He’s not even supposed to be here.

Dragged in by friends. Forced into a seat at a sticky bar table. Music too loud. Lights too bright. He hates it.

Or at least, he did. Until he saw you.

You, with your easy laugh. Your effortless smile. You, lighting up the whole room without even trying.

He catches himself staring too long. Curses himself under his breath. Looks away.

When he looks again, you’re still there.

Still smiling. Still looking at him.

Longer this time. Long enough to make something uncomfortable twist in his chest.

He tells himself to look away. To act normal. To not make it a thing.

But then you start walking toward him.

And suddenly, his mind is blank.

You’re standing in front of him now, smile soft, eyes curious. Close enough he can smell the faint trace of your perfume.

"Hey there," you say, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

It takes him a second too long to answer, like the words have to fight their way out of his chest.

"Hey," he mutters, voice low, almost rough.

You tilt your head a little, smiling wider. "You look like you could use better company."

He huffs out something like a laugh, quiet, startled.

And before he can overthink it, before he can build the walls back up, he nods.

"Yeah," he says, voice steadier now. "Stay."

And somehow in the middle of nowhere, on a night he wasn’t even supposed to be here He found something he didn’t even know he was looking for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

�� Bachira Meguru

The one who turned everything into an adventure. And decided you were his favorite part.

The second you walk into the bar, he sees you.

It’s not subtle.

One minute he’s laughing too loud with his friends, shoving Isagi’s shoulder, stealing fries off Kunigami’s plate, and the next he’s freezing mid bite, blinking across the room like he’s seen something unbelievable.

“Woah," he says, elbowing Chigiri without taking his eyes off you. "Look at her."

Chigiri groans. "Don’t start."

But Bachira’s already grinning, wide, mischievous, unstoppable, and standing up like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

No nerves. No hesitation. Just pure energy — curious, excited, drawn in like a moth to a flame.

He weaves through the crowd with a lazy swagger, hands in his pockets, humming to himself.

When he reaches you, he doesn’t waste time.

Leans down a little, just enough so you can hear him over the music, and says:

"You look like you’re having way less fun than you should be."

You blink at him, caught off guard by the suddenness, the bright smile, the way he looks at you like you’re already the best part of his night.

"And I," he adds, still grinning, "am excellent at fixing that."

You laugh, you can’t help it, and it’s like you flip a switch inside him.

Because Meguru Bachira was already having a good night. But now, standing here, looking at you?

He knows it’s about to get even better.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🧡 Kunigami Rensuke

The one who smiled like he couldn’t believe you were real. But still hoped you'd stay.

He didn't want to stop here, honestly.

Bars weren’t really his thing, too loud, too crowded, too many people bumping into each other like they were best friends after one drink.

But he was outnumbered. His friends were already piling into the parking lot, laughing about who was paying for the next round. So here he is, standing awkwardly near the bar, a beer in one hand, pretending he’s not counting the minutes until it’s acceptable to leave.

And then he sees you.

He’s pretty sure he actually stares for a second, dumb, open, probably looking every bit the tourist he is.

You’re laughing with your friends, tucked into a booth near the back. Carefree. Effortless. The kind of smile that makes the whole room seem warmer.

Kunigami looks away fast, embarrassed, ears burning, and takes a long sip of his beer like that’ll fix anything.

(Newsflash: it doesn’t.)

He tries not to look again. Fails.

You’re still laughing. Still glowing. And when your eyes meet, for just a second, he feels his heart lurch stupidly hard.

Chigiri bumps his shoulder on the way past, smirking. "Go say hi, dumbass."

Kunigami mutters something under his breath. No way.

Not because he doesn’t want to. Because he does, way too much for someone he doesn’t even know.

But he’s halfway through building up the nerve when you do it for him.

You walk over, casual like it’s nothing, and grin up at him.

"You gonna stand there staring all night," you tease, "or buy me a drink?"

For a second, all he can do is blink at you.

And then, slow, wide, real, that sunshine grin spreads across his face.

"Yeah," he says, voice a little rough from surprise. "Yeah, I can do that."

And just like that, in a nowhere town bar he didn't even want to walk into He starts to think this might be the best stop they've made yet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

💜 Mikage Reo

The one who made everything look easy. But looked at you like you were the best thing that ever happened.

You’ve already been at the bar for a while. Sweaty from the drive. Laughing too loud. The kind of night that feels reckless and perfect without even trying.

You’re halfway through your drink, mid story, still grinning when the door swings open.

And in walks trouble.

He’s late. You can tell by the way his friends shout when they spot him, waving him over like he’s the missing piece.

Keys to some flashy car dangle from his fingers, you recognize the logo even from here: Mercedes. Of course.

He’s dressed better than anyone else in the room. Simple. Effortless. A t-shirt and jeans, sure, but somehow, it looks expensive on him.

And when his eyes scan the room, quick, lazy, confident, they land on you like a spotlight.

You feel it immediately. That weight. That shift. The way he zeroes in like he was looking for something and finally found it.

He grins, slow, knowing, and tosses his keys onto a table like he’s not in a rush to go anywhere anymore.

You try not to stare.

He crosses the room casually, hands in his pockets, like he already knows exactly how this night’s gonna end.

When he reaches you, he leans just a little closer, voice low enough that you have to lean in, too.

"First time around here?" he asks, smiling like he already knows the answer.

You nod, a little breathless.

He chuckles, soft and rich. "Good," he says. "Means I’ve got a chance."

And just like that, with one look, one grin, one stupid flash of a keychain He makes you forget you ever thought you’d be passing through this town without a reason.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🤍 Nagi Seishiro

The one who didn’t care about anything. Until you made him look twice.

He didn’t even want to come.

It was too much work. Too loud. Too many people. He would have rather stayed in the car, curled up with his hoodie and a half finished game on his phone.

But Reo dragged him in. Promised there'd be food and a place to sit. Nagi wasn’t about to argue if it meant less effort.

So he slouches in a booth near the back, half listening to the music, half dozing off while his friends shout over each other. Nursing a soda he barely sipped. Glancing lazily around the room without caring much about anything.

Until he sees you.

You’re standing at the bar, laughing with your friends. Something about the way you tilt your head when you laugh makes his brain do a weird, slow reset.

He blinks.

Looks again.

Still you.

Still real.

He sits up a little, rubbing at the back of his neck. Feels wide awake for the first time all night.

For a few minutes he just watches, head tipped slightly, studying you like he’s trying to figure out a puzzle. Why you stand out. Why the air feels different now.

And maybe he would have kept sitting there forever. Maybe he would have let you walk out without a word.

But then you glance his way. Smile, small and shy.

And that is enough.

He’s pushing himself up before he can think about it. Dragging his legs across the sticky floor like it’s the hardest mission he’s ever accepted.

When he reaches you, he stops, shifting his weight lazily onto one foot.

"Hi," he says, voice rough from not using it all night.

You smile wider.

"Hi," you say back.

And just like that, he decided maybe getting out of the car wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[lostintransist]

Miss Missy is Missed

@miss-vanta-likes-to-write 😘😘 I diverged from the plan slightly but I hope her story doesn't disappoint. Divider credits: @/thecutestgrotto

MDNI 18+ CW: nipple play, body worship, praise kink discovery, cunnilingus, fingering, P in V (wrap to tap), pregnancy

One night a month Missy could cut loose. One. And this…asshole jerk shit smear man would not leave her alone. She had tried three times to politely end the monologue he was subjecting her to and get back to her friends.

She had a cute face. It got her into too many damn situations she couldn’t easily talk her way out of. The leather strapless body suit she had laced into place pushed her small breasts to their best viewing place and covered everything to her ankles. Missy didn’t wear any necklaces today. Instead, she chose to show off her smattering of tiny sparkle and moon tattoos that covered her shoulders like stardust. They went well will her space buns and hoops that brushed her neck as she turned her head.

Before the fourth time of trying to make a graceful exit, a hand appeared on the bar between them. Glancing from the ringless left hand to the face attached to it Missy was taken a bit back by the beautiful man who smiled at her. He winked before turning over his shoulder. She couldn’t tell the color of his eyes in the dim of the club but even under the various flashing lights, the warm brown of his skin ticked a box they had in common.

“Thanks for keeping her company.” Turning back to her he smiled again, the soft movement of his cheeks made Missy want to reach out and pinch them. “Ready to go find a table?”

Eyeing him, suspicious of his motives, but in a desperate need to escape the man who had effectively trapped her at the bar, Missy grabbed her drink.

“After you,” Missy offered with a smile.

Always with a smile. Can’t have anyone who might be mad about a recent article snapping a photo of her being angry.

“Next time,” the unnamed man settled a hand at the small of her back, lightly directing, inviting her to move with him. “You can be mean and tell him to fuck off.”

Missy laughed, “No, men can say fuck off. I’m supposed to be cute until someone saves me, so thanks!”

She patted him on the chest and moved past to rejoin her friends. Missy didn’t make it two steps before the fingers on hers had her turning back.

“I didn’t catch your name,” his eyes are pressing into her as if his gaze carried weight. “I’m Kyle.”

Lifting her fingers to shoulder height, Missy squeezed Kyle’s hand once.

“I didn’t throw it, but you can call me Mychael. Have a good night, Kyle.”

He let her go this time, but Missy could feel his eyes tracing over her curves. Doctors would call her overweight but since she was neither white nor a man she would never fit into the tiny boxes medicine said she needed to exist in. Life got better after she moved out of her parent’s house and could learn to embrace not being thin like her mother.

Sliding into the booth next to her friends, Crystal caught her eye from across the table.

“What was that about?” Crystal’s eyes glanced to where Missy could only assume Kyle still watched.

Rolling her eyes Missy took a sip of her drink to give herself a second to think.

“My cute ass gets saved from creepy men again.”

“And what about the cute ass you left behind?” Crystal lifts a well-formed brow.

“What about it? Yeah, he was cute but you and I both know a cute face won’t move me,” Missy taps a nail against the tabletop, “Specially not with Addie at home. I can’t take risks like that anymore.”

“Didn’t Angela tell you to not worry about hurrying home?” Crystal tilted her head as if to say, take advantage of your free night.

Missy sipped her drink. Kyle was fit. The stretch of his short-sleeved shirt around his biceps spoke to a man who knew how to work.

“You know what, Crystal? I am going to cut loose for one damn night. But if I don’t get an orgasm out of this, I am blaming you.”

Crystal burst out in laughter, nearly spitting her fruity drink across the table.

Taking a fortifying swallow of her drink, Missy glanced around the bar; she located him. Kyle laughed with a man who even across the bar she could tell had committed to a full mohawk. Catching Kyle’s eye, she crooked a finger at him.

Kyle lifted a brow. At Missy’s nod, he slapped his friend on the shoulder and wandered over.

“You in need saving again?” His eyes sparkled in the flashing lights as he peered down at Missy.

“In fact I am. Do you dance?” Missy stood, pushing her drink to the center of the table.

“Well.” Kyle’s eyes drifted down her body and back up, “There are a lot of things I do well.”

“Easy there, let’s see if you can keep up before you start dreaming up scenarios where I end up face down,” Missy smirked.

Damn, man could dance. He took the lead, hands caressing Missy in a way that hinted at more. By the third song, Missy could feel her panties starting to chafe with how wet they had become. Snatching up her purse, she met Kyle at the front door. Crystal got a text and a confirmation that Missy’s location was on and shared since she had long abandoned the table.

He pressed a kiss to the sweat at her temple. His hand never left her through the drive to his home. They chatted, nothings and small quips passing the time between the bar and his flat. The tingle of anticipation settled in all of Missy’s limbs. Kyle’s thumb brushed over some of her back tattoos, distracting her from her train of thought.

When the car finally arrived, they climbed onto the sidewalk and into the apartment building. Missy studied him in the mirrored walls of the elevator. Kyle had one arm securely around her waist and his nose brushing against her shoulder. The heat from his breath sent shivers spiraling down her arms and across her back. In the small box, she could nearly taste his cologne. Her fingers twitched in her reflection. She couldn’t wait to dig her nails into his back as she gasped for breath.

It had been too damn long since she had felt the weight of a man. Thinking it over one of the last times had been getting pregnant with her daughter. Damn. Addie’s fifth birthday would be in a few months. It had been damn near six years since she had been touched, loved, held, fucked.

“It’s been a while for me,” Missy lifted her hand closest to Kyle, letting her fingers dig into the joint at his neck.

He melted like an ice cream you buy from the nice man who drives real slow down the street, playing music like the pied piper to pull every child to his window. A moan of pleasure-laced pain filled the space as she worked at the knot she found there.

“Let me call you baby and I’ll go as slow as you need. If I don’t get at least two orgasms out of you before I cum I have not done enough and I owe you a thousand.”

Languid would not have been the word Missy expected to use when being fucked silly by Kyle.

When they had entered his flat, he had taken a moment to turn on lamps strategically placed throughout the space. The warm light gave the space an inviting feel. Light music filled the space, something haunting but without words. The sound of running water came soon after.

Her opinion of him rose. What kind of man didn’t need a reminder to wash his hands before touching a woman?

Missy set her purse on a small table near the front door and slipped her heels into the space between the legs.

Kyle stepped up behind her. His socks silenced his approach. His hands settled on either hip, fingers digging into the flesh there. Nose on her shoulder again he posed his first question.

“Can I kiss these? They’ve been driving me wild all night.”

The gravel in his voice went straight to her lady bits.

“Be my guest, they are some of my favorite tattoos so far,” Missy replied breathlessly.

His plush lips worked slowly, peppering kisses across every speck of skin that boasted a tattoo. By the time he had reached the back of her neck, she yearned for more contact, Missy grabbed both his hands and lifted them to her breasts.

Kyle smiled as he kissed her.

“Needing more attention, baby?”

“Yes,” the breathless reply hitched at the end as his clever fingers began to circle.

Her nipples fought against the pressure of the leather, preening for attention.

Missy snaked a hand between their bodies to pull at the strings holding her into her outfit. Kyle caught her hand.

“Let me unwrap my present,” his other hand left her breasts and held both her wrists neatly in his large grip. “I am nearly done kissing these beautiful shoulders.”

Her breasts were pushed together with her hands pinned in front of her and Kyle could reach both nipples with one hand. Whining a bit in her throat, Missy tugged lightly to free her hands.

Kyle kissed his way to her ear, “Use your words, baby.”

“I would rather bite off my own tongue,” she panted. His fingers circled and circled and circled the tips.

“Mmm, let’s change this up then.” Kyle stepped back, hands readjusting to hold to one of hers and leave her breasts bereft of contact, Missy stumbled after him into a bedroom dressed in greens and browns. A well-made bed, with a duvet and decorative pillows, welcomed them. Kyle turned back to look at Missy with a mischievous look in his eye, before she could question he lifted her hand and spun her. She now stood facing the bed as her head swirled slightly.

Tugging lightly at the bunny ear knot, Kyle loosened her outfit. Missy slapped a hand to the bodice.

“Let it go, baby. I want to discover the shape of you.”

Biting her lip Missy let the outfit fall. Kyle moaned behind her like someone had pegged him for the first time. She had always been a quiet lover, but his gentle caress nearly pulled breathy moans from her chest.

“Goddesses are shaped like you,” his words of worship whispered into her ears as his hands trailed down from her armpits to the place where her jumpsuit pooled at her waist.

Kyle’s thumbs dug under the fabric. He kissed down her spine, lowering her clothes until his nose settled between her ass cheeks.

“Step.” Missy did as directed, “You’re so responsive.” That shouldn’t have made her hands shake disturbing the duvet as she used it for balance. “Once more. Look at that thong, what a good choice you made. What a good girl you are, listening so well.”

Lord have mercy. Missy didn’t think she had a praise kink but goddamn, if he kept talking like that he might keep his offer of money. The sound of her clothes hitting the floor behind her did not cause her to look.

No, all of Missy’s focus was on Kyle and how his nose ran down the crease of her ass. He moved closer and closer to her aching hole. Burying his face between the plush of her thighs, Missy let out a squawk. Kyle’s tongue wet everything he could reach of her. Falling forward to her forearms on the mattress Missy felt her feet shift wider to accommodate Kyle kneeling so close behind her.

“There she is, built like a goddess and dripping the nectar of eternal life.”

Missy skin radiated heat. The way he spoke about her would haunt every masturbation to follow. One of his hands wrapped around her ankle, the other slid a finger under the string of her thong. He traced the string between her ass cheeks, a firm pressure circling her tight hole before continuing. Missy shoved her face into the bend of her elbow.

Panting before he even touched her clit, Missy moaned into the mattress as his finger shifted back and forth over her opening.

“Any reason to keep these whole?”

It took damn near all her focus to process the question.

“Send me home with a pair of boxers and you can rip them apart with your teeth,” Missy muttered.

The sounds barely made it past her lips when Kyle had left her lower lips and the sound of a drawer opening and closing reached her ears. The chill of scissors at the base of her spine heightened her arousal all the more.

A slow snip and her g-string lost all tension. Glancing to the bedside table Kyle’s hand appears in her vision before retreating. All that is left is a pair of medical scissors.

The hand at her ankle starts traveling. It rose with gentle pressure until it reached the apex of her thighs and ripped her underwear off. Cool air slapped at her hole. Kyle blew back and forth on the sensitive skin until his panty-snatching hand was back and spreading her lips.

“God above Kyle, where did you learn this?” Missy sounded exasperated but would do nearly anything for him to touch her.

“Dated a cougar once. She wanted a young buck who could keep up with her. Learned a thing or seven. Now take a deep breath for me, baby.”

Missy did as directed and promptly screamed it out into her arm as his lips wrapped around her clit and suckled. The tip of his tongue eased her clit from its hood. He suckled harder when it appeared. Pulling the skin around in his mouth too, he labored at her cluster of nerves. When a finger nudged at her entrance Missy nearly shot up the damn bed.

Kyle pressed himself in further as he maintained a hard suck on her clit. The pressure from his head and the forceful direction of his finger had her lying flat and spreading her legs further apart for him.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.”

The mantra became a babble as Kyle released his hold on her clit as he pulled his finger from her body at the same time.

He laid the flat of his tongue at the parting of her lips. Wetting the hair he found there he rolled his head back until his tongue could dive into her wetness. Missy clawed at the bed as Kyle fucked her with his tongue.

“Arch for me, baby,” his tone came out commanding even as the words were interspersed with slurps and the slick sounds of his tongue.

Missy did as he demanded.

She really did scream this time.

Kyle clamped her clit and one nipple in a pinch simultaneously. His mouth never stopped moving. His teeth nipped at her lips, tugging them as she squirmed. Switching hands he repeated the process.

When two fingers slid lewdly into her body and stretched Missy found herself thrown off a cliff into an orgasm.

His fingers never stopped moving as he licked up every bit of her arrival that slid down his arm and between her legs. When Missy could see again she reached back to push him away.

“Kyle, it’s too much,” she whined weakly.

The hand not busy sending her to the moon captured both her weakly flailing hands

“Give me one more and I fuck your goddess’ body like a whore. Come on, baby. You’re doing so, so good. There you are. Look at you taking these fingers like you were made for it,” he cooed at Missy as her muscles tightened down.

The appearance of his warm, wet mouth on her clit sent Missy spiraling. Her legs gave out. Kyle cleaned her with his tongue again, moans of pleasure and simpering about her taste chased each other through Missy’s ears.

Satisfied, Kyle’s heat disappeared from her senses.

When his heat returned it was not diffused by clothes but sticks to Missy’s back with skin to skin. The thick length of his manhood settles against her. This is one of those times she thanks any god listening she had Addie naturally, had she not had a baby Missy was sure that Kyle would cause some damage.

“Up we go baby, spread yourself nice and wide over my bed. I want you to use every bit of it,” Kyle’s fingers dug into her hips lightly as she shifted to lay diagonally.

His hands stay on her even as she lays face down. He shifts first her right foot a tad further out and then her left.

“Prop that pretty ass up for me baby. Yeah just like that,” Kyle praised her as the mattress dipped under his weight. “Hold it like that until I’m in and then relax.”

His thick dick notched at her entrance, the stretch burning this side of painful. Missy fought for air as her chest bucked under the effort of breathing. Kyle leaned forward, pressing his body into hers as his forearms bracketed her ribs. His nimble fingers slid between the duvet and her ribs and took a nipple in each hand. Working up his thrusts he played with the sensitive buds. He really got into a rhythm when Missy let out a whimpering cry if Kyle sunk his teeth into her shoulder as he bottomed out and twisted her nipples with a vicious twist. That little trick only worked three times before Missy shook so hard she dragged Kyle with her into the world-shattering orgasm.

When Missy can see again, she finds herself on the toilet. At least Kyle knew how to help prevent UTIs. Damn. He was such a good fucking lay, there was no way that he would want anything beyond this from her. Blinking tiredly, Missy finished her business and stood on shaky legs. At the sound of the faucet running Kyle appeared in the bathroom.

“Come on sweet girl, let’s get you to bed.” His sharp eyes dragged over her body even as he tucked her into his bed, “Can I wake you with an orgasm?”

Missy had never been woken with an orgasm before and had to put a moment of thought into it before she replied.

“Fingers and mouth, I think I would freak out if I woke up with you over me,” Missy’s eyes are drooping closed even as the words leave her mouth.

Kyle did exactly as she asked, reviving her with a startlingly strong orgasm as she entered the waking world before pushing her into a mating press and blowing his load another time. As Missy lay, stunned and noodle-boned, Kyle moved around his room before disappearing from the edges of her vision.

Sitting up, finally, Missy found her outfit from last night tucked into a bag with a set of sweats next to it, and a coffee and a croissant. Dressing slowly, she brought everything to the coffee table. Settling it on the table she pulled out her phone and ordered a ride to get home. Kyle appeared before her ride did, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips as his hand settled at her hip.

“I had fun. I get the feeling you’re not one for many one-night stands, but if you are in need of a rough night? I would kill to do that again.” Kyle’s words dripped with sincerity.

Pleasantly surprised, but pleased Missy smiled coyly up at him.

“If we end up at the same party again I might just take you home instead.”

It took nearly five months before Missy and Kyle ended up in the same room.

Their time together had left her with an unexpected but welcome surprise. Kyle didn’t seem like the type to want the commitment but like with Addie she would give him a chance to meet his daughter. Missy had no way to contact him, nothing beyond his name and a couple of blank socials that popped up when she searched him every week. She was a week away from hiring a PI to track the man down. When she returned to his flat she found it lived in by an elderly Indian couple who couldn’t help her locate the prior tenant.

Five months into a second pregnancy would always be harder to hide than a first; her body had done this once and knew how to stretch for growth. That had actually been what gave it away. The fucking round ligament pain. A deep ache, below her abs stretched from her uterus to her back. She had never experienced outside of pregnancy sent her scrambling to the corner store, Addie in tow.

After settling Addie in with a bit of screen time with a limit Missy snatched up one of the random tiny paper cups that littered her cupboards. She made the mistake of buying them a single time and after Addie ripped open the package and used over half of them for, well, everything she could think of, Missy didn’t buy them again.

Pregnancy tests always recommended to use the first pee of the day, to ensure there would be enough HGC to confirm, but Missy would throw up if she had to wait any longer. Managing to avoid peeing on her hand she set the small cup on the counter, washed her hands, and called her Angela.

Angela had been her second nanny and still acted more like a mother than her own blood did. She picked up on the third ring.

“Hello, my Missy. How are you today?”

The comforting sound of Angela’s voice pricked tears to Missy’s lash line.

“Freaking out.”

Missy can hear Angela shift on the other end of the line, all her attention being focused on the call.

“What happened? Are you safe? Is Addie okay?”

“Um, Addie is okay. She’s watching some random video about space right now,” Missy hedged.

She didn’t want to do this to Angela again. Angela had been her first call when she found herself pregnant from a relationship that more closely resembled her parents, loveless and spite-filled than she cared to admit. The shame that welled up in her chest nearly had Missy ending the call.

“Mychael,” Angela pulled out her mom voice, “I can hear you panicking. Tell me what is going on.”

Missy sobbed into her fist. Three hard sniffs and she could breathe again. When her words came out they were small and scared. “I need to take a pregnancy test, can you stay on the line with me?”

“Oh honey,” the softness, love oozing through the line soothed the fears that Missy harbored about being unlovable for her mistakes. “What step are you on?”

“I have a cup of pee on the counter and the unopened test,” Missy replied, wiping at her nose.

“Good, then can you open the box?” Angela coached her through the steps.

Missy had bought the cheapest one they had, all her friends who had more than one kid swore by the cheap ones. They all claimed they worked faster and better than the overpriced ones that read ‘PREGNANT’ or ‘NOT PREGNANT’. Dipping the small stick until the color shifted showing it had absorbed enough Missy laid it on the foil that had been inside the box.

“Angela, I’m so worried. What am I going to do if I am pregnant?” Missy turned around to face the wall, unable to bear watching.

“You have options dear. You know I will keep Addie if you need to make an appointment, or will knit you a baby blanket if you make a different kind of appointment.” She would too. Angela was a staunch defender of making choices that saved women, not potential. “What made you want to test?”

Sighing Missy turned as she replied, “Round ligamen— holy fuck! That shouldn’t be showing a second line yet! It’s been less than a minute.”

Angela laughed in her ear, “Missy, if you were having that pain of course the test would show that immediately. A body knows. Can you contact your last partner?”

Rocked into shock by the swiftness of the answer Missy nodded. Then realizing she did not have Angela on a video chat, confirmed verbally. They spoke for a few more minutes until the numbness started to wear off. It took a week for Missy to find an answer she could live with; she had always wanted two kids.

Mychael “Missy” Cooper haunted Kyle’s daydreams. All his dreams really.

He wanted a family, badly. It was never a desire he discussed with his teammates. Price wanted a ‘traditional’ wife at home and children who looked up to him, Ghost wanted nothing to do with the potential of kids and avoided women as a byproduct. Soap, his best friend, wanted to play life with a wife and a catholic state of mind. Kyle didn’t want anything like that, but explaining that he wanted to step into something half-built, to fill a hole left by someone else titillated his senses was not a matter he wanted to discuss. Or unpack for that matter.

His sister had invited him, informed him he would be attending actually, to a mingle for his nephew’s fancy school. Having a soldier who could brush shoulders with some of the hoity-toity folks and share chats about common acquaintances would help keep the heat off his sister being a single mother.

A laugh, one that echoed in his footsteps, had Kyle snapping his head around. Scanning every face he cursed himself for being so on edge. Like the fool he always accused Soap of being, he forgot to get her number before letting her out his front door. There. Lord above, she was radiant.

Missy wore her hair natural today, tight curls forming a small halo afro, draped in a purple dress and an elegant scarf around her neck she looked more radiant than he remembered her.

Excusing himself from the conversation flowing around him with a smile Kyle worked his way across the large room. A man with lascivious eyes stared down at Missy as she smiled up at him politely. Stepping up behind her Kyle leveled the man with his soldier’s face. When the interloper caught sight of the danger Kyle tilted his head to the side, a clear message to excuse himself.

The man left gracelessly, without a word. Missy’s brow puckered as her eyes trailed after her former conversation partner. Kyle leaned close, careful not to touch her as he spoke in her ear.

“Does this count as a party you would take me home from?”

She spun with a squeak. God, the sounds she made haunted him.

“Hi Missy,” Kyle let the smile tugging at his lips free.

The way her lips parted had Kyle wanting to put them to use. His sister would never let him live it down if he went home with a date from her son’s school mingle. Fuck it.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Of course, you would show up at my daughter’s school party.”

Now that was not the reply he expected. Lifting a brow he let his gaze drift down her form.

“Oh?”

The shape of her dress is not quite what it should be, there is no pattern to explain the way it draped funny. Dragging his eyes up to Missy’s he waited his turn to speak, to convince her to let him spread her open again and again and again.

“Turns out my IUD needed replacing about six months ago. I would have told you this information sooner but by the time I swung by your apartment you had moved.”

That first sentence did not make any sense to him whatsoever. Kyle tilted his head ever so slightly as his nose scrunched.

Missy sucked in a breath, blowing it out through her nose.

“My daughter,” she laid a hand against her stomach, sliding it down until the fabric laid taut to a shape found only in one state of life, “is about to have a sister. I have been looking for you to give you the chance to be a part of our daughter’s life.”

Understanding rocked him. This conversation discombobulated him more than falling out of Nik’s helo. Glancing from stomach to face, Kyle searched Missy’s open expression for any lies hidden in her eyes.

Never in his wildest dreams did Kyle expect to actually find a family, half-formed and in need. That it would include the woman he woke hard with yearning for? All the better.

Stepping forward, slowly, so slowly he could have been mistaken for a statue he ducked his head toward Missy’s. His hand lifted, waiting for her nod. She nodded. He settled it on the hard bump of baby.

“I would love nothing more than to worship you as I learn to love you and our daughters.”

Missy sucked in a breath eyes widening at his words, at the ownership, the claim the sentence held.

“Well, guess I might actually take you home from this party then,” Missy joked.

Kyle’s lips twitched, this gift would be so much better than he could have ever expected.

“Come and meet my sister.”

The thought behind his words rang loud in his head, come and meet my family, let me make you my family.

“And tell her what exactly?” Missy’s smile didn’t slip, but her stomach tightened under his hand.

“We tell her that I met someone and was an idiot who forgot to get the number for the woman who haunts my dreams and see if she would like to set up a playdate with my nephews.”

Missy’s smile took on a cat in the creme kind of quality.

“You really like taking charge of things don’t you?”

Kyle laughed, full and loud, headless of the eyes that fell on them for it.

“Baby, you have no idea.”

Masterlist

[kate-inthedarkness]

I Think About You, Pt.1 - Eli Hewson

Summary: You’re Inhaler’s merchandise manager, and over the time you’ve been working with them you’ve become best friends with all of them, but you and Elijah have a different kind of bond that’s always on both your minds….

Warnings: none at all! Fluff and maybe some angst but not really

A/N: I’m thinking of doing a couple of parts for this so hopefully it goes down well with you guys! Xxx

The crowd had finally thinned. The stage was empty except for a few leftover water bottles, stray picks, and the hum of amps cooling down.

You were at the back of the venue, wrestling an oversized box of hoodies into a what you liked to call “wardrobe on wheels” to fit it into the added on storage compartment of the tour bus.

Your hoodie sleeves were rolled up, your cheeks flushed from both adrenaline and exhaustion. It had been another sold-out night.

“You ever take a break?” Elijah’s voice cut through the low buzz of the night, teasing and warm.

You turned, still slightly out of breath. “Only when I’m dead or unconscious. You guys sold nearly everything tonight.”

He grinned, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “Because you’re a merch wizard.”

You rolled your eyes, half-smiling. “Wizard? You’ve been watching too many fantasy shows with Josh again.”

There was a pause between you—comfortable but electric. You felt it more often lately. Every look lingered longer, every inside joke hit deeper. You were used to being close; tour life made intimacy unavoidable. But this…this was different. Sharper. Softer.

You became their tour manager at the very start of the cuts and bruises tour. Something about being two years younger than them felt scary, you were worried they’d treat you like a child, but no, the treated you like a long time friend.

Having Rob, Ryan, Josh, and Louis as new best friends made your heart feel so full. But, Elijah. That was always a different story. He was special, and your friendship was very important but sometimes complicated, because the feelings you two had for each other were hiding in glass closets.

Elijah moved closer, helping you shove the last box inside the moveable wardrobe. “You know,” he said quietly, “we’re only this organised because of you.”

You looked up, his face a little too close. “And you’re only still awake because of me.”

You locked up the moveable compartment and started pushing it to towards the front of the venue to head to the bus for the night, and of course, Eli didn’t hesitate to follow.

He laughed, then faltered—like he wanted to say more. Like the words were pressing against his teeth.

“I—“ he started, but was cut off by a sudden burst of squeals from across the road when you exited the venue. A handful of fans has spotted the two of you. Phones were already up, cameras ready to flash.

You took a step back instinctively. “Guess your fan club’s clocked out late.”

Eli didn’t move away. He leaned in slightly, voice lower now. “They’re not the ones I’m thinking about.”

You met his eyes, searching. He looked nervous. Hopeful.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” he said. “About…us. But I didn’t want to mess up what we have.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach. “Me too. I’ve been thinking about it, I mean. About you.”

And then the moment hung there—between merch crates and late-night fans, between the buzz of post-show energy and something much more fragile.

You both smiled, just slightly. Nothing decided yet, but something acknowledged. Finally.

A shout from Ryan inside the bus broke the silence. “Can you two stop staring at each other and get in here!? The pizza will be fucking freezing if yous don’t hurry up!”

You both laughed, brushing shoulders as he went inside and you loaded everything onto the back of the bus before joining them.

Tomorrow, maybe, there’d be a real conversation. But tonight, it was something to ease the subtle tension in your body.

—————————————

The next day started too early, like most days on tour. The bus was already humming down some narrow stretch of motorway when you wandered into the small kitchenette, hair still messy, hoodie halfway zipped, leaving it to hang off your shoulder which was a risky move.

You reached for the kettle like it was your lifeline. Your veins begging for a strong cup of coffee.

Elijah was already there, cross-legged on the booth seat, headphones around his neck and a notebook open beside his tea. You paused when your eyes met. He gave you a small smile—not the usual playful grin. This one was more careful. Maybe even nervous.

“Hey,” you said softly, sliding into the seat across from him.

“Hey,” he closed the notebook, fiddling with the edge. “You sleep?”

“Barely. You?”

He shook his head. “Not really.”

Silence. Not awkward, just… waiting.

You finally broke it. “So. About last night.”

He looked up. “Yeah.”

You both paused again, like you were on the edge of something you couldn’t quite name.

“I meant what I said,” he began. “I’ve been thinking about you. About us. For a lot longer than I’d like to admit, actually.”

Your throat tightened just a little. “Me too. I’ve been scared to say anything. I didn’t want to mess things up.”

Elijah leaned forward, elbows on the table, voice low. “You’re one of my best friends. But it’s also more than that. Every time something good happens on stage, or we hit a milestone… you’re the person I want to talk to first. That has to mean something.”

You swallowed. “It does. But we’re on the road all the time. This tour is chaos. And what happens if we try and it goes wrong? We still have another six months of buses, and green rooms, and sharing a bus.”

“I know,” he said quickly. “I’ve thought about that too. I don’t want to pressure you. I just… I couldn’t not say it anymore.”

You nodded slowly, fingers tracing the rim of your mug. “I’m glad you said something. I needed to hear it.”

“So what do we do?”

You shrugged, and your voice cracked just a little. “I don’t know. But maybe we don’t have to decide everything right now.”

Elijah’s expression softened. “Yeah. Okay. No pressure. No rush.”

A quiet settled between you again, but this time it wasn’t tense. It felt like something real was building—even if it didn’t have a label yet.

“Hey,” he added as you got up to refill your tea. “Whatever happens… I’ve got your back.”

You smiled without turning around. “Same here, always. You know that.”

[kenansslut]

a way back to each other

pairing: kenan yildiz x fem reader

Summary: just two people who will find their way back to each other

warnings: sad

a/n: look at me I’ve been posting a lot. please leave feedback!

It was a quiet afternoon, the sun setting in Turin and casting a soft glow through the apartment windows. Y/N sat comfortably on the couch, reading a book, with Ramos curled up beside her.

The sound of the door opening caught her attention, and she looked up to see Kenan walk in. “Kenan! You’re home later than usual,” she said, getting up to greet him.

Kenan didn’t respond right away; he just locked the door and dropped his training bag on the floor. “Y/N, we need to talk,” he said, looking serious.

Taken aback, Y/N nodded and sat back down on the couch, causing Ramos to shift to her lap. “What’s wrong, Kenan? You’re scaring me,” she said.

He sighed and sat next to her. “Look, baby, I don’t know how to say this, but I’ve been thinking a lot lately, and I’m not happy in our relationship. I really need to focus on my career right now.”

Y/N stared at him in disbelief. “What do you mean ‘I need to focus on my career’? Am I a distraction?” Kenan opened his mouth to respond, but she continued, “Last time I checked, I did everything so you could focus on football! I clean, cook, and take care of Ramos while you’re busy with training and games. The reason he’s here and not with your parents is that I’m helping you out, even though I’m in school!”

Kenan looked hurt, knowing how much she had supported him. “Baby, please, you have to understand,” he pleaded.

“No, Kenan, you can’t call me ‘baby’ when you’re breaking up with me. If that’s what you want, fine. I’m leaving,” Y/N managed to say, her heart heavy.

She tried to walk away toward their shared bedroom, but Kenan gently grabbed her arm, making sure not to hurt her. “Y/N, you can’t go! You have nowhere to stay,” he said, his voice pleading. “Just stay here until you find somewhere to live. You can use the guest room for as long as you need.” His deep ocean eyes searched hers, hoping she would understand.

Y/N nodded, tears welling up in her eyes, not trusting herself to speak.

“I’m going to take a shower, but when I get out, we can order some takeout,” Kenan said, releasing her arm before walking into their room.

Once he was out of sight, Y/N waited until she heard the water running before she began packing her things into two suitcases and bags. She emptied their shared closet, leaving only Kenan’s clothes behind. She didn’t want anything from him; it felt like a clean break was the only way forward.

Once she had packed up everything she owned, she walked over to Ramos, who was sprawled out on the couch. He had no idea what was happening, but he sensed something was off. The moment Y/N approached him, he started licking her face, trying to comfort her.

“I’m going to miss you, buddy,” Y/N mumbled, tears streaming down her cheeks.

After a heartbreaking goodbye with Kenan’s dog, she grabbed her car keys and bags, walking out of the apartment and leaving the key to their once-shared home behind.

Y/N loaded her bags into her car, climbed in, and let the tears flow freely. Before driving away, she pulled out her phone and blocked Kenan on everything, feeling a mix of sadness and relief as she left their shared life behind.

When Kenan finally stepped out of the shower and walked into the living room, he was hit with an unsettling silence. The couch was empty, and his heart sank as he noticed that all of Y/N's things were gone.

"What the...?" he muttered, his mind racing. A wave of regret washed over him. He had broken up with her to focus on football, thinking it was for the best, but now it felt like the dumbest decision he could've made.

He sat down on the couch, staring at the spot where she used to sit, realizing just how much he missed her. The weight of his choice settled heavily on his chest, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he had let something truly special slip away.

Kenan's heart raced as he grabbed his phone, desperate to hear her voice one last time. He dialed her number, but it went straight to voicemail. Frustrated, he tried texting her, but every message bounced back.

“Why would she block me?” he thought, panic setting in. He felt a mix of anger and sadness, realizing that his decision had consequences he hadn’t fully considered.

Sitting alone in the quiet apartment, he replayed their last moments together in his mind, wishing he could take it all back. He knew he had to do something, but for now, all he could do was stare at the empty space around him, filled with memories of her laughter and warmth.

Five months had passed since Y/N and Kenan last saw each other, and both had been navigating their new lives in very different ways.

From Kenan's perspective, soccer had become his escape. He threw himself into training, trying to drown out the memories of Y/N. Every time he scored a goal, the rush of adrenaline felt good, but it was never enough to fill the void she left behind. He often found himself glancing at his phone, wishing he could reach out, but the reality of being blocked stung. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had lost something precious, and every game felt a little emptier without her cheering him on.

On the other hand, Y/N had transformed in ways Kenan could hardly recognize. She was thriving in school, her grades soaring as she focused on her studies. The honey-blonde hair framed her face beautifully, accentuating her brown eyes, which sparkled with newfound confidence. She had also taken up working out, and her body reflected her dedication and strength. While she missed the connection they once had, she was proud of the woman she was becoming. Each day felt like a fresh start, and she was determined to embrace her independence, even if it meant leaving Kenan behind.

As they both moved forward, the memories of their time together lingered in the background, shaping who they were becoming but no longer defining them.

time passed

It was a chilly Saturday night when Kenan arrived at his friend's birthday party, ready to unwind with familiar faces. He was laughing and catching up with everyone when he suddenly spotted a figure across the room. His heart skipped a beat—it was Y/N. He hadn’t expected to see her there, and for a moment, he felt a mix of excitement and anxiety.

Y/N had known Kenan would be there, but she was determined to stay cool. She had spent months building herself up, and she wasn’t about to let him see how much she still cared. As she approached the group, their eyes met, and the air felt charged with unspoken words.

“Hey,” Kenan said, trying to sound casual, but his voice betrayed him. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, it has,” Y/N replied, crossing her arms slightly. Her tone was steady, but there was a hint of frostiness. “I didn’t think you’d recognize me.”

“Of course I do. You look… different,” he said, gesturing toward her new hairstyle and fit physique, trying to keep it light.

“Thanks,” she replied, her expression unreadable. “I’ve been busy.”

Kenan nodded, feeling the weight of the conversation shift. “I’ve been focused on football. It’s been… good, I guess.”

“Good for you,” she said, her voice flat. The tension between them was palpable, but beneath it lay a flicker of the connection they once had. They both stood there, caught in a moment that felt both familiar and foreign, unsure of how to bridge the gap that had grown between them.

Feeling the weight of the moment, Y/N decided to excuse herself. “I’ll go grab a drink,” she said, turning away before Kenan could respond. She needed space to breathe and gather her thoughts, and the last thing she wanted was to dwell on the past.

As she walked away, Kenan’s teammates noticed the change in his demeanor. Dušan raised an eyebrow, leaning closer. “What just happened, man? You looked like you saw a ghost.”

“Yeah, I didn’t expect her to be here,” Kenan admitted, running a hand through his hair. “We kinda… talked.”

Francisco chimed in, “Talked? More like cold war, huh? What did she say?”

“Just that she’s been busy, and I told her about soccer,” Kenan replied, a hint of frustration in his voice. “It felt awkward.”

Weston shrugged, “You’ve been talking about her for months, dude. Maybe it’s time to just be honest with her?”

Andrea nodded, “Yeah, it’s clear you both still have feelings. Just don’t overthink it!”

Nicolò added, “You gotta go after her! Don’t let this slip away again.”

Kenan sighed, glancing toward the crowd where Y/N had disappeared. “I don’t know, guys. What if she doesn’t want to talk?”

“Then you’ll never know,” Dušan said, giving him a friendly nudge. “Just go for it!”

With his teammates rallying behind him, Kenan felt a spark of determination. Maybe he could find the right moment to talk to her again and clear the air. After all, this party was just getting started.

As Kenan’s friends urged him to go talk to Y/N, they suddenly noticed a guy at the party leaning in close, flashing her a charming smile and laughing at something she said. Kenan’s heart sank, and a wave of jealousy washed over him.

“Dude, look!” Weston exclaimed, pointing discreetly at the scene. “That guy is totally flirting with her.”

Kenan felt a surge of possessiveness. “What the hell? I can’t believe this!” His fists clenched, and he shot a glare at the guy, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks.

Dušan, sensing Kenan's frustration, quickly tried to diffuse the situation. “Hey, just breathe, man. You can’t let him get to you. Remember what we talked about?”

Francisco chimed in, “Yeah, you’ve got to make your move now! Don’t let him steal your chance!”

Andrea nodded, “We’re all rooting for you and Y/N! Just go up to her and show her you care.”

Nicolò added, “We’ll back you up. Just be confident, man. You’ve got this!”

With their encouragement fueling him, Kenan took a deep breath, trying to shake off the jealousy. He knew he had to act fast before that guy got too comfortable. “Alright, I’m going in,” he said, determination in his voice.

His teammates cheered him on as he made his way through the crowd, ready to reclaim his moment with Y/N and show her just how much she meant to him.

As Kenan approaches Y/N, he can feel his heart racing. He takes a deep breath, trying to shake off the nerves. “Hey, Y/N,” he says, trying to sound casual. “Can I steal you for a sec?”

The guy glances at Kenan, a smirk on his face. “Oh, come on, we were just getting to know each other better.”

Kenan shoots him a look, stepping closer to Y/N. “Yeah, well, I think it’s time for you to move along. We have some catching up to do.”

Y/N raises an eyebrow, her expression cold. “Really, Kenan? You think you can just waltz in and act like everything’s fine?”

Kenan feels a pang in his chest but refuses to back down. “I know things haven’t been great between us, but I’m not giving up. I want to talk to you, just us.”

Despite her icy demeanor, Kenan stands firm, determined to break through her walls. He knows he has to show her that he’s serious about making things right, no matter how she’s acting.

Kenan looks Y/N in the eyes, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “Look, I get that I messed up, and I can’t change the past. But I’m here now, and I want to fix things between us. You mean so much to me, and I can’t just stand by and watch you with someone else.”

Y/N’s expression softens for a moment, but she quickly masks it with indifference. “You think just saying that makes it okay? You hurt me, Kenan. I can’t just forget that.”

His heart sinks, but he presses on, desperation creeping into his tone. “I know I hurt you, and I’m sorry. But I’m willing to fight for us. I don’t want to lose you again, not to anyone. Please, just give me a chance to show you how much you matter to me.”

Y/N looks away, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “It’s not that simple. I don’t know if I can trust you again.”

Kenan feels a lump in his throat, the weight of her words heavy on his heart. “I’ll do whatever it takes to earn that trust back. Just don’t shut me out. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

In that moment, the tension hangs thick between them, both feeling the weight of their shared history and the possibility of a second chance.

Y/N takes a deep breath, her heart racing as she processes Kenan's words. “I don’t know if I can just let you back in like that,” she admits, her voice trembling slightly. The walls she built around her heart feel like they’re starting to crack, but she’s scared.

Kenan steps a little closer, his eyes filled with sincerity. “I get it. It’s going to take time, and I’m willing to wait. Just know that I’m here, ready to listen whenever you’re ready to talk.”

She looks up at him, the coldness in her gaze slowly melting away. “It’s hard for me, Kenan. I’ve been protecting myself for so long.”

“I understand,” he replies softly, his heart aching for her. “But you don’t have to do it alone. I want to be there for you, no matter how long it takes.”

Y/N feels a flicker of hope, and for the first time in a while, she contemplates the idea of letting him in. “Okay,” she finally says, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll try. But you have to promise me you won’t hurt me again.”

“I promise,” Kenan replies, relief washing over him. “I’ll do everything I can to prove it to you.”

In that moment, a tentative connection forms between them, and though it’s still a long road ahead, they both feel the possibility of healing.

[synelven]

why would someone make a star trek au of their own ocs lol that's so silly.

so agent west is now lieutenant commander west, starfleet intelligence, and dr vasilevsky is now dr vaskil, biotech researcher for the obsidian order (explanation below cut)

starfleet catches wind of suspicious activity around a remote moon that just so happens to be where dr vaskil is conducting her research. west is sent in undercover as a cardassian lab technician to gather information about what they are doing. however, dr vaskil is good at what she does and recognises that west has been surgically altered, so she kidnaps her and nonconsensually reverses the surgery. vaskil inevitably plants some sort of nefarious tech inside her during the surgery that west is unaware of, and does a villain monologue while she's strapped to the table. west manages to escape, but is stranded on the moon for the time being. a game of cat and mouse ensues where the roles are constantly switching. and of course so begins the fucked up psychosexual lesbian happenings

[lazyveran]

realising sevika is the best influence for jinx right now because sevika has always been a calculated yes-man. right now jinx is completely unmoored and trying to find purpose away from the voices of both silco and vi, and sevika is someone who seeks out the right people to work under, is a yes-man only if it aligns with what she thinks is right. sevika is utterly utterly perfect for helping guide jinx's destruction towards the right places, without trying to force her to do anything. now silco's gone, only those two carry the torch of his legacy - sevika knows she has no allies in the barons. but with jinx she has someone she trusts, an anchor in her grief as well as the spiralling situation and a capable one at that. sevika knows that jinx understands, and that means everything right now. jinx with sevika can find who she is without the voices, and can rely on the trust and loyalty of sevika to keep her from spiralling. she's already seen the ugly side of jinx, knows her fits and has proven that she'll push back, but not leave. jinx can trust herself through sevika. they're so perfect.

[mspeevee]

The Raichu I made today (not pictured) along w Pikachu (pictured) went home today!

[tazova]

Dukes, we have a problem

July 5 vs Feb 3

Just found out, that I made similar pose (ಠ_ಠ)

I runnin out of ideas tbh, feels like I don't have much to say and always repetitive (' - -)