#those. I just don’t think I’d do well

[forever-rogue]

Salty

AN | Hello, as you all know Joel is alive and well and there are shenanigans afoot in Jackson. Enjoy💕

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader 

Warnings | Language 

Word Count | 2.6k

Masterlist | Joel, Main 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You loved Joel.

Joel loved you (you hoped anyway) and Ellie.

Ellie hated you.

After just over half a year in Jackson, you had finally put two and two together. All those little things you’d thought were accidents or odd coincidences weren't that at all.

Everything came down to one Ellie Williams. And that led to you making a decision you immediately hated.

“I don’t think we… should spend time together anymore.” The lump in your throat was thick, and you focused your attention on the vegetables you were tending, refusing to look at the man. You’d rehearsed this very moment in your head about two hundred times, and still, it wasn’t going to plan. Sigh.

The man next to you was silent for a few beats, trying to decide if you were being serious. When you didn’t say anything further but he heard your sniffle, he realized this wasn’t a joke at all.

“Oh? And just how did you reach that conclusion, darlin’?”

“I just… I dunno, Joel. It just seems like the right thing to do.” You shrugged, adding the carrots you'd unearthed into the basket between the two of you. “I don’t… I don’t want you to get the wrong idea and think I’m… interested.”

A heavy silence fell over you; you tried to continue working, but Joel remained dumbfounded, watching your every move.

“Okay,” he eventually said, causing you to relax slightly. “I’ll do as you ask and respect your wishes and all that. You gonna tell me what changed suddenly?”

“Nothing,” you lied. You’d thought about telling him the truth but highly doubted he’d believe you. He’d never think his baby girl would do something so downright vicious. “It’s just… what I want.”

“Alright.” He stood up and wiped his hands on his jeans, capturing your attention. “I’ll leave you to it. I think you can handle it from here, right? I wouldn’t want to get the wrong idea.”

“Joel—” His name came out as a huff, but before you could get any further, he had already walked away.

You watched after him until he was out of your sight before hastily wiping at the tears rolling down your cheeks. This hurt even worse than you had anticipated. Ellie would probably leave you alone now that you weren’t pursuing her dad or trying to take him away from her.

“I guess it’s just you and me again.” You pulled a few more carrots out of the dirt and tossed them to the side. You were going to need a new hobby to occupy your mind.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The first time something strange had happened, you had been baking a cake for Joel's birthday. You were in the restaurant kitchen, having talked Seth into letting you use the space to keep your plans secret.

You were almost done mixing the dry ingredients when you couldn’t find the sugar.

“Where is it…” You looked through cabinets, sure you’d seen the container at some point. Without sugar, you definitely weren’t going to finish this cake.

“Looking for this?” There was a smile on Ellie’s face as she set an unlabeled bag down next to your bowl. You relaxed and nodded. “Sorry, I was using it earlier. Totally forgot to put it back.”

“No worries at all,” you said, grabbing the measuring cup and adding the sugar to your bowl. “I was starting to worry I’d imagined it.”

“Hmm.” Ellie watched you work in silence for a few minutes. “What’s this for?”

“I’m making a cake… for Joel.” Your face warmed as a flash of annoyance shot across hers. She was well aware of what you were doing, having overheard you talking to Tommy. “I figured it’d be something nice for him.”

“That’s really sweet of you,” she smiled. “I’m sure he’ll love it.”

“I hope so,” you agreed.

Unfortunately, fortune seemed determined to make a fool of you.

You’d stopped at Joel’s house to deliver the cake, wanting to make it casual.

“Happy birthday,” you sang, holding up the cake with an eager look. Your heart beat nervously as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “It’s not much, but I hope you like it.”

“It’s amazing,” he whispered, heart constricting at the sweet gesture. It had been a long time since someone had baked him a birthday cake. “C’mon in. We can cut right into it.”

“Oh,” you smiled shyly, finding it hard to meet his eyes. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“You’re always welcome here,” he said, firm but still soft. “And I insist.”

“Okay.” You followed him inside, setting the cake on the table. Joel grabbed a couple of forks, plates, and a knife. “Is Ellie here? Should we cut some for her?”

“She’s off at Dina’s,” he shook his head. “It’s just us.”

“Well here, let me.” You cut into the cake, placing large slices on each plate. You sat down across from him, pushing a plate toward him. “Happy birthday, Joel.”

“It certainly is now.” You tried not to freak out as you took a bite. Joel did the same.

As soon as you started chewing, you realized it tasted… terrible. Gritty and salty. Anything but sweet and decadent. You reluctantly swallowed and cast a forlorn look at Joel, who was clearly trying to school his expression.

“This is disgusting,” you said, horrified. “I—I must’ve added salt instead of sugar. Fuck. I should’ve paid more attention, but I thought… Ellie handed me the sugar.”

“It’s…” Joel, bless his heart, tried to make it seem better than it was.

“Terrible,” you insisted, trying not to cry. “I’m so sorry. I ruined it all.”

“It’s not… the worst thing ever.”

“Joel.”

“It’s pretty bad,” he admitted with a grimace, “but it’s the thought. Even if that’s cliché.”

“Well,” you sighed with a grimace, “maybe next time will be better.”

Joel reached across the table and placed his hand on top of yours. His touch made your stomach flip. “It’s okay, really. Thank you for this.”

“Happy birthday,” you whispered. Your face was warm, and you swore you saw a light blush on his cheeks.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The second time you were sure that you had bad luck. Everyone has bad luck sometimes, right?

It was spring, finally warm enough not to require multiple layers. There was a barbecue going on, and Joel had asked if you wanted to go with him. He hadn’t said it was a date—but he hadn’t not.

You’d put on a sundress, feeling prettier than you had in a long time.

But as you walked to Joel’s house, something slippery on the porch made you slide off and into a lingering patch of mud.

A scream escaped your lips. You weren’t hurt—just covered in mud from head to toe. Your shoes had fallen off. Tears of frustration fell down your face, which only smeared the muck.

“Are you okay?” Joel ran outside, worried. When he saw what had happened, he had to fight a smile. He was glad you weren’t hurt—but it was a little funny. You let out a frustrated huff. He stepped off the porch and held out his hand. “Oh, darlin’.”

Just as you reached for him, he slipped and landed next to you. His surprised face made you giggle. Reaching over to wipe a spot off his cheek, you shook your head.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” He smiled. “I’d say we make a fine pair.”

“Unfortunately, I think we’ll have to clean up and change before we do anything,” you teased. Joel looked at you with nothing short of fondness. “Why’re you looking at me like that?”

“No reason,” he said, leaning in. You leaned in too. “I’m just thinking I’d really like to kiss you right now.”

“Oh?” You were ready to finally close the gap when the front door burst open.

“Hey!” Ellie’s voice made you both jump apart. “What happened?”

“Slipped and fell,” you both said in unison.

“You should be more careful,” she said directly to you, brown eyes hard. “Wouldn’t want anything to happen.”

Then she turned and went back inside. A shiver ran down your spine.

“C’mon.” Joel got to his feet and helped you up. “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

“Thanks,” you said softly.

Something inside your stomach twisted. Something was going on.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The third time you were sure that none of the things that had been happening were accidental.

Joel had asked you on a date—made it very clear it was a date. Even though it was just Joel, you were full of butterflies.

You settled on an outfit and went into the bathroom to finish getting ready. Everything needed to be perfect.

Until… you tried to leave the bathroom and couldn’t. You jiggled the knob, convinced it was stuck, but after a few seconds of no success, you realized you were locked in.

You exhaled sharply, trying not to panic. This wasn’t an accident—but you weren’t in real danger either.

You banged on the door. “Ellie! Let me out! Please let me out!”

No response. But you thought you heard creaking down the hall. She wasn’t coming back.

You sat on the toilet, head in your hands. This was the worst. All you had wanted was a date with Joel. You couldn’t even have that.

Eventually, you pried open the bathroom window, grateful you lived in a one-story house. You squeezed out and fell a few feet onto the hard ground with a small oof.

Brushing yourself off, you made your way to Joel’s house, ready to set things straight.

Only one light was on. He wasn’t home. Your heart sank.

You knocked loudly. “Ellie!”

After a moment, the door flew open. She stood there, surprised. You laughed bitterly. “Surprised to see me?”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“Cut the shit,” you snapped, tears pricking at the back of your eyes. “Why have you been doing this to me? And don’t even try to lie—I know it’s been you.”

“I…” She didn’t even bother to lie. “Stay away from Joel. He doesn’t need you. We’re fine without you.”

“Is that what this is about? Me and Joel? Why does it—”

“He doesn’t need you,” she hissed. “Stay away from my dad.”

The door slammed in your face.

You stood there, stunned.

After a few moments, you trudged home, your heart heavy, when you heard your name being called. You turned to see Joel catching up.

“Hey,” he said, falling into step beside you. “What happened? I waited for over an hour, then went to check if you’d gone to—”

“I was locked in my bathroom.” You pinched the bridge of your nose. Joel stared at you, waiting for a punchline. But then he saw your expression—serious.

“I’m sorry, Joel. I didn’t mean to stand you up. I was really looking forward to tonight.”

“How did you…”

“Weird accident.”

“Is everything okay?” he asked, stopping and gently grabbing your wrist. You turned to face him, fighting back tears. He touched your cheek.

“Things have been a little… off lately.”

“Guess I’m just having a spot of bad luck,” you shrugged, refusing to say the real reason. As angry as you were with Ellie, you understood. Joel was her stability—and in her mind, you were a threat.

“It’s nothing, really.”

“Okay,” he said quietly. “Did you still want to grab dinner?”

“Actually, I kind of just want to go home.” You hated the way hope faded from his face.

“I’ll see you around, Joel. Have a good night.”

“Good night.” He gave your hand a squeeze but watched you walk away, his heart heavy.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Two weeks passed.

You caught glimpses of Joel, but that was it. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

You missed him.

One night, as you were getting ready for bed, a knock came at your door. You almost ignored it—but you knew better. No one in Jackson would let you live it down.

With a sigh, you trudged to the door, already annoyed.

“What?” you asked before even looking—only to find Joel standing there, a bemused smile on his face.

You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. “What are you doing here?”

“I think we should talk.” You swallowed thickly. “Can I come in?”

“Y-yeah.” You stepped aside and led him into the living room. You sat across the couch from him. “What’s up?”

“Ellie told me what happened,” he said. Your shock was evident. “She explained what she did.”

“Oh.”

“She said she hated seeing me so miserable all the time,” he continued, and you realized you weren’t the only one hurting. “She said she felt some remorse.”

“I don’t… I do blame her—because she did those things. But I can understand where she’s coming from.” You shrugged. “She’s trying to protect you. You’re her family. She doesn’t want to lose you. It’s her way of showing love. I can’t fault her for that.”

“I know,” he said. “She told me everything. But it doesn’t make what she did right. You could’ve been seriously hurt. I told her that no matter what happened between us, my love for her wouldn’t change.”

“Of course not.”

“But tell me… were you really ready to never speak to me again?”

“I mean… I wouldn’t be happy about it.” Your face flushed and you couldn’t meet his eyes. “But if that was best for everyone…”

“Do you really think that would’ve been best?”

“Well… no. Now it seems trivial.” You met his honeyed gaze—reverent, gentle. “I’m glad you’re here. I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” He scooted closer. You could feel the heat radiating from his body. “You still want me to stay away?”

“I’m kind of thinking I want you to finally kiss me.”

You didn’t know where the boldness came from, but it had been long enough.

“Is that so?”

“It is—”

Joel kissed you gently, cutting you off. It caught you off guard—but it was perfect.

“Yeah?” His hand was on your cheek, thumb stroking your skin.

“Again?” Your soft request made him chuckle. “Please?”

And he didn’t waste any time.

He kissed you again.

[mangooes]

Shooting Games

The street market of the N109 Zone was bustling under the soft glow of hanging lanterns, every corner filled with the sizzling of street food and the murmur of weekend crowds. Normally, Sylus Qinche, the most feared criminal lord in the city, would’ve never been caught dead strolling through such a lively, chaotic place.

But here he was—hand in hand with his far-too-cheerful wife—being dragged around like a glorified bodyguard.

“Sysy, look at that!” (Name)’s eyes lit up, pointing towards a stall where skewers of glazed scallops sizzled on open fire. “We have to get some!”

Sylus sighed, though a soft smile tugged at the edge of his lips. “For the record, kitten, I don’t do waiting in lines. Not even for seafood.”

“That’s funny, because you’re literally doing it right now,” she grinned, winking as she tugged him forward. “Look at you. So domesticated. So obedient.”

“I prefer the term devoted husband, thank you.” He leaned down, murmuring into her ear, “Obedient, however, is not part of my vocabulary. As you’ll be reminded later tonight.”

(Name) rolled her eyes, but the slight blush on her cheeks betrayed her. “Behave, Sysy. Public setting. Kids around.”

That earned a low chuckle from Sylus.

But just as they were about to move on, (Name) stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes locked on something across the street. Dangerous. Focused. Sylus recognized that glint.

“What is it now?” he asked warily.

“There.” She pointed dramatically.

A shooting game stand, decked out in neon colors and lined with oversized plushies, stood proudly among the other vendors. And at its very top, hanging like some glorious trophy, was a giant dragon plush. Midnight black, crimson eyes, little wings spread in a cocky flair.

It looked insultingly like Sylus.

“Oh no,” Sylus muttered. “I see where this is going.”

“This one’s coming home with me, Sysy!” (Name) declared, grabbing his arm.

“Sweetie, you do realize those games are rigged, yes? The house always wins.”

“Well, they haven’t met me yet.” She shot him a grin that spelled trouble.

Moments later, she stood at the counter, plastic gun in hand, eyes narrowed at the stacked tin cans. Sylus folded his arms, watching with bemused fondness.

First shot—direct hit.

The cans wobbled.

But didn’t fall.

The gamemaster chuckled nervously. “Oh, tough luck, Missy. Maybe another try?”

(Name), being her stubborn self, didn’t back down. Shot after shot, she aimed perfectly, yet the cans barely budged. A few onlookers began to gather, murmuring quietly.

Sylus could see it—the faint crease of her brows, the downturn of her lips. His wife was frustrated. And as much as he adored that pouty face, seeing her sad was not something he tolerated.

“Tch.” Sylus’s crimson eyes gleamed. “I told you, sweetheart. Rigged. Just say the word, I’ll burn this stand to the ground.”

She stopped him before it escalated further.

“No worries Sysy, let’s not waste our time here tonight.”

Sylus, however, had had enough.

Just as (Name) sighed, ready to give up and step away, a firm hand circled her wrist.

“Oh no, kitten. You’re not walking away yet.” Sylus’s voice was velvet smooth, dangerously low.

He gently took the plastic gun from her hands, his fingers brushing hers, lingering just a heartbeat longer than necessary.

“Let me teach them a lesson in… fair play.”

“Oh? So you think you can do better?” (Name) teased, arms crossed, eyebrow arched.

“Sweetie, I don’t think. I know.” His Evol coiled unseen beneath his skin, licking out like a serpent toward the rigged cans.

With the laziest stance imaginable, Sylus aimed.

Bang.

The cans exploded off the platform as if shot with a cannon.

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

The gamemaster paled.

(Name) just stared. “You totally cheated.”

Sylus gave her an infuriatingly smug grin. “Kitten, I’d never stoop to such things.” His mist twirled teasingly around her wrist, giving him away. “But if I did, it’d be because someone owes me a prize.”

The gamemaster, still pale, scrambled up and offered the dragon plush with trembling hands. “C-Congratulations, sir…”

With a little bow, Sylus took the plush—far too large for him, hilariously out of place in his arms—and passed it to (Name).

“There. Your dragon awaits you, my queen.”

His wife’s grin was blinding as she hugged the plush to her chest, practically vibrating with happiness. “You’re the best, Sysy.” She tiptoed up, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Thank you, my dear husband.”

And just like that, any irritation Sylus had towards the scammy stall evaporated.

“I should make you thank me more often,” he murmured against her ear, tugging her close, “in private, perhaps.”

(Name) merely laughed,

“We could have find something else better to do, you know,” she muttered.

“Of course, kitten. And I could’ve let you.” Sylus’s lips curled into a slow grin. “But you pout so sweetly when you’re frustrated. Consider it my civic duty to intervene.”

“You just wanted an excuse to show off.”

“Always. But more importantly—” he squeezed her hand gently, “—I hate seeing you disappointed. Rigged game or not, no one gets away with making my wife frown.”

Her heart did a little somersault at that.

Linking their fingers again as they continued their stroll. She carried the dragon plush proudly, like a trophy, while Sylus kept stealing glances at her—the way her cheeks still held that glow, the way her smile hadn’t faded.

For him, the real prize wasn’t the game.

It was that look on her face.

Totally worth it.

I hate arcade games smh, i always loose and i suck at shooting but of course sylus doesnt.

[bobreynoldswife]

I’d seen Bob suffer for months, beating himself up for not remembering what he did. None of us divulged much detail, unsure as to how he’d take the news that he lowkey Thanos’d all of Manhattan.

But sometimes I’d stumble upon him in the middle of the night, sitting in his usual armchair overlooking the twinkling night skyline, his face in his hands. His fingers trembling. His leg bouncing nervously up and down, hushed whispers tainting his breath.

I knew what regret looked like, and I saw it at those moments, stitched into every muscle of his back straining under sweater. I knew what it was like to tiredly piece together how in the hell you got to where you were. Why you were so exhausted. So alone.

It gut my heart to watch Bob attempt to figure out his own twisted, mental puzzle. So I’d sit with him. Beside him, on the floor. Sometimes I’d put a stabilizing hand on his knee. Others, I’d intertwine my fingers with his and trace those pulsing veins on the back of his hand with my thumb. I’d beg him to let me carry that dark, dark burden inside of him, but I’d be met with a shake of his head.

Until one night, when for a moment, I thought we’d–

No.

It’s too painful to think about. To relive . Even now, all these years later. - I hate the way you [know my nightmares] by Shadows_Do_Us_Part

Summary:

Following the events of forming the Thunderbolts* and moving into the Watchtower, Yelena suddenly finds herself stuck in an AU where there are no avengers and no gods. Four years pass without answers, so she reverts back to working as an assassin for hire.

Then he shows up.

Him being Bob / The Sentry / the shadow daddy that once haunted her dreams– and now needs something from her, desperately.

But he's the one who shattered her heart years ago (before getting stuck in this AU). So naturally, like the assassin girlie she is, all she wants to do is kill him, knife to throat style.

The only thing is, if they don’t work together, then well…they'll never go back to their real lives.

Oh and The Void…Just you wait.

~~~~~

Dual POV and Dual Timeline: Watchtower & trippy reality warping. Think “i should hate you but i cant” slowburn, pining, trippy reality warping / Sentry pocket reality vibes bc you know, he can surpass space and time like a lil cutie I hate the way you [know my nightmares] by Shadows_Do_Us_Part

❗️❗️spoilers Thunderbolts* ❗️❗️

So I noticed they were very tactile...And since the start!!!

Can we take a minute to talk about it 🫠

[corroded-hellfire]

First Mother’s Day after the twins. Eddie is so sleep deprived that he forgot. Ryan is on his senior class trip. Eliza is still too little to remember. It’s only when Luke “Scurvy” Munson comes home with flowers that the day is saved.

Eddie wouldn’t change Luke’s middle name, but I invented Luke and I petition to change his middle name officially to “Scurvy.”

I hope all of you moms out there had a wonderful Mother’s Day 💕

Words: 3k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Eddie collapses into the blue recliner tucked into the corner of the living room. A sigh rushes out of him as he lets his tense body relax against the polyester. The baby monitor is still clutched in his hand, too paranoid that if he lets it go, one of the twins will start crying again. He just got them both to fall asleep. It took songs, cuddles, and rocking back and forth, but it finally all paid off. 

“Thank God,” he mutters, rubbing a hand over his face. 

For the first time today, the house is quiet. The twins are asleep. Eliza is curled up on your bed with a handful of her stuffed animals, watching Mulan. Luke is out with his friends, and you’re out picking Ryan up. Your eldest son has been on a trip with school for the last couple of days, and the buses are rolling back in to drop the students off at the high school tonight. 

Eddie’s eyes strain to stay open. He hasn’t had a good night’s sleep for the entire six weeks since the twins were born. Neither had you, so it amazed Eddie that you were so willing to go and pick up Ryan. The amazement wore off when he realized he was left to do two bedtimes alone. 

I could just nap right now, he thinks. Only for a little while until you come home. The moment he lets his eyes flutter closed though, the front door opens. 

“Oh my God,” Luke says as he steps inside the house. “It’s actually quiet in here. Am I in the right house?”

Eddie forces his eyes open, more out of curiosity for what that crinkling plastic noise is than to see his son. His brows furrow when he sees Luke holding a bouquet of flowers.

“What’re those?” Eddie asks, pointing the antenna of the baby monitor at the blooms. “Were you on a date? I thought you were out with friends.”

“Father,” Luke says with a sigh, “if I were on a date, why would I be coming home with flowers?”

“Ugh, I’m too tired, don’t quiz me.” Eddie groans and rubs a hand over his drooping eyes. 

“They’re for Mother’s Day.” Luke gently bops his dad on the top of the head with the wrapped bouquet. “Sean stopped to pick some flowers up for his mom, so I figured I’d grab some too.”

“That’s nice,” Eddie says, nodding. There’s a beat of silence before it clicks in his head. “Wait, Mother’s Day?”

“Yeah,” Luke says. “It’s tomorrow.” He raises his eyebrows at his father, wondering just how sleep-deprived he is. 

“Shit.”

Eddie forces himself to sit up straight, taking a deep breath as he prepares to stand.

“You forgot? Seriously?” Luke’s on the verge of laughing, but he doesn’t want to irritate an already grumpy Eddie. 

“Let’s see how well you sleep when you have five kids,” Eddie mumbles. 

Now Luke does laugh.

“Yeah, right. Like that’s gonna happen.”

Eddie huffs as he pushes himself to his feet, and Luke heads into the kitchen.

“Fifty bucks says you’re the first one to give me a grandkid,” Eddie grumbles under his breath, heading down the hallway towards his room. 

When he opens his door, Eddie breathes a sigh of relief that Eliza is still awake. There would’ve been no way in hell he’d wake her up and deal with that mighty wrath. 

Large brown eyes peer over the top of her stuffed pig to watch her father curiously. Her golden dragon acts like a pillow beneath her head as the Disney movie plays in the background. 

“Wanna come to the store with me?” Eddie hopes his words reflect more enthusiasm than he feels.

Eliza’s brow furrows, and her head swings towards the closed curtains covering the windows near the bed.

“It’s dark out. Why we going out?”

Eddie grabs a t-shirt from his drawer that doesn’t have holes in it and swaps it out for the ratty one he’s wearing. 

“I forgot that tomorrow is Mother’s Day,” Eddie admits, knowing full well it will end up getting back to you. He knows you’ll give him some slack with how exhausted you’ve both been, though. “We gotta get Mama a present.”

Pig stuffy falling to the side, Eliza bolts up straight and stares at her father with wide eyes.

“You forgot?!”

“Hey,” he teases, coming over to scoop her up from the bed, “you didn’t remember either.”

The little girl gives him an unimpressed look as he sets her down on the carpet. 

“I’m four.”

“Well, Miss Four-Year-Old, are you coming or not?” 

“Gotta get presents from the babies too!” she calls as she runs out of the room to get her shoes. 

“Right.” Eddie nods as he slips his wallet into his pocket. “A gift from six-week-old babies, got it.”

He heads back towards the kitchen and finds Luke’s head buried in the fridge, the bouquet of flowers he had bought already in a vase on the counter. Eddie slaps a hand on his son’s shoulder and presses the baby monitor against his chest.

“I need you to keep an ear out for the twins, yeah? I’m gonna run to the store with Eliza.”

Luke nods, his mouth stuffed with God knows what. He takes the baby monitor from his dad and gives him a thumbs-up. 

“And thanks for saving my ass,” Eddie says. 

Luke chuckles, and Eddie scoops his keys off the counter. The sound of little feet pound down the stairs, and Eddie meets your daughter in the living room. 

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

Eddie opens the front door, and the two of them slip outside.

“Think of what you might want to get her on the way there, okay?”

“Okay!”

Despite the request, your husband knows it won’t be that simple. Taking Eliza to the store to buy something can turn into a grand event. She can never make up her mind and has to hold everything in her hands to study it, like it’s an ancient scroll. 

“What does she want for breakfast?” Eliza asks halfway to Target. 

“Uh.” Eddie thinks as he turns right onto another street. “She loves when you make her waffles, right?”

“Yeah!” This sparks excitement in the small girl. “Can use the Mickey Mouse waffle maker!”

“Perfect,” Eddie says with a nod. “We’ll get the ingredients for that. What do you think we should get from the babies?”

Normally, he’d ask just to include Eliza in the whole process, but right now he’s genuinely hoping she has some ideas. 

“Umm,” she hums, little fingers tapping at her chin. “Sweater?”

“It’s almost summer, babe,” he tells her.

“Oh yeah. Uh, shoes?”

“What about other than stuff she can wear?” Eddie knows Eliza would pick out the most sparkled and glittery heels she could find, and that would be the last thing you need now, as you’re constantly covered in vomit or worse. 

“Book?”

“That’s a good one,” Eddie admits with a nod. You might not have much spare time to read now, but he knows you’ll pick it up eventually. 

Eddie pulls into the parking lot and breathes a sigh of relief when there’s an empty spot right up front. He hops out of the car, Eliza following his lead, and the two of them walk hand in hand into the store. 

There’s a bright red cart sitting near the entrance, so Eddie nabs it. Before she even has time to ask—because she always does—Eddie scoops Eliza up and seats her in the carriage. She grins as she makes herself comfortable, her small fingers sliding into the holes on the side of the cart.

“Alright, where do we start?” Eddie isn’t asking anyone in particular, mostly just musing aloud. But nonetheless, Eliza points towards the book section.

“That way!”

“Aye aye, Captain.”

“Two books,” Eliza instructs as Eddie rolls her down between two shelves littered with books of every size. “One from Hayden. One from Scarlett.”

“Makes sense,” he replies as he moves down towards the adult section. 

“Ooh, ooh!” Eliza points at a paperback book with what looks like a White Witch on the cover. “That one.”

Eddie picks it up and scans over the summary on the back. There are witches, faeries, and romance—it meets a lot of your criteria.

“Good pick,” Eddie tells the four-year-old, handing her the book.

She nods in thanks and sets it down next to her in the cart. 

“Look! There’s a dog on that book!”

“Uh…” Eddie grimaces. “I don’t think Mama will want Cujo for Mother’s Day.”

“That’s a weird name,” Eliza says, her button nose wrinkling up in distaste.

“Well, he’s a weird dog,” Eddie replies, eyes scanning over the other books. 

A few books down, he sees a woman on the cover of a paperback that reminds him of you. He picks it up and takes a look at the summary.

“That looks like Mama,” Eliza says, tilting her head to get a better look at the cover.

“That’s what I thought,” Eddie says, deciding this book sounds decent enough. He tosses it to Eliza, who stacks it on top of the other one. “Where should we head now?”

Dark curls whip back and forth as Eliza looks all around her, trying to pick which way they should go. 

“Cards?” she asks.

“Look at you and Luke, helping out my tired brain today. You want to make Mama a card I assume?”

“Yeah!” The look she gives him clearly says duh.

Eddie nods and heads down the craft aisle. He knows there’s probably a whole cache of art supplies at home she could use, but the last thing Eddie wants is to get home and form a search party to look for markers and glitter.

“Okay,” he says, hand reaching out towards the shelves. “We’ve got construction paper, markers—ooh wait, sparkly markers. What else?”

Eliza happily claps her hands at the exciting new markers she gets to use.

“Stickers?” she asks.

“What kind?” He rolls her down towards the end of the aisle, where the stickers are. There are far too many for Eliza to browse herself, she would take an eternity to look at each one. Instead, Eddie starts to list them off, hoping to make things quick. “We’ve got dinosaurs, butterflies, penguins, Care Bears, Transformers, kittens, turt–”

“Kitties!”

“There we go,” he says, grabbing the pack of stickers, a variety of kittens staring up at him. “Easy enough.”

The next aisle over is the beginning of the baby supplies, and Eddie figures that while he’s here, he might as well grab more diapers. God knows you’re going through them like water. 

“I don’t think she needs those,” Eliza jokes with a giggle. “She’s too big!”

“These might be the thing she’s most grateful for, actually,” he mumbles under his breath. “Any idea what you want to get her?”

“No.”

“Okay,” Eddie drawls, trying to keep any annoyance out of his tone. It’s not Eliza’s fault that he’s worn out and forgot what tomorrow is. “I’ll walk down the middle aisle, and you let me know if anything jumps out at you.”

He leads the cart to the main artery of Target, then strolls slowly down the wide space, giving Eliza time to peer down each aisle and take stock of what it holds. Fortunately, Eliza quickly finds something that catches her eye. Unfortunately, her taste is a little expensive.

“Mama will love this!” Eliza coos. She gestures to the heated back massager and, honestly, Eddie can’t refute the claim. You would love it. You wouldn’t love what it costs, though. 

Eddie sighs and runs a ringed hand over his stubbled jaw. The fluorescent lights hum above, as if also awaiting his answer. The debate rages back and forth in his tired brain, but ultimately, he decides to get it. Is it a bit much? Yeah. But don’t you deserve that? After already being an incredible mother, carrying twins for nine months, and now being an absolute rock for everyone in the house while being exhausted yourself? The least Eddie can do is buy you this massager to help you relax. 

“You are right,” Eddie says as he picks up the large box. Eliza scoots over to make room for it next to her. She giggles when the box is taller than she is. “Next stop, waffle ingredients.”

When Eddie pulls into the driveway, your car is back. It would be almost impossible to get the bags and packages from the store past you. Thinking quick on his feet, Eddie reaches up and jabs at the remote garage opener. 

“Wheee!” Eliza cheers as the car rolls out of the streetlight and into the dark concrete space. 

Eddie puts the car into park, unbuckles his seatbelt, and turns around to face Eliza in her seat. 

“Alright, we’re only gonna take in the stuff for you to make your card; I’ll get the rest out once Mama goes to bed. That way she won’t know what we got.”

Eliza nods. “Got it.”

Your daughter shuffles out of her car seat and loops the plastic bag containing her art supplies over her tiny wrist. Eddie closes the garage behind them, and the two head towards the house. 

“Wait,” Eddie says as he comes to a halt. He jogs around to the back of the car and pulls the pack of diapers out. Tucking them under his arm, he pats them as he heads back to Eliza. “This is our excuse for going.”

“Good job, Daddy!”

She opens the door leading into the kitchen, where you’re sitting at the table with Ryan and Luke. There’s a tired smile on your face, but Eddie thinks you’ve never looked more beautiful. You look up from your cup of coffee—decaf, of course—and give your husband and Eliza a smile. 

“Hi, Mama!” Eliza calls. She plops the bag down on the linoleum floor and runs over to you.

“Hey, sweet pea!” You scoot your chair back far enough that you can pull her into your lap. “What were you doing at Target?”

Eliza stares up at you, her eyes widening a comical amount. You purse your lips to keep from laughing.

“How did you know?” she asks, completely mystified. 

Doing your damndest to keep your smile in, you duck your head and point to the plastic bag she left near the door. 

“That’s a Target bag,” you say in a stage whisper. 

“Oh.” Eliza giggles and buries her face in your neck.

Eddie scoops up the bag and sets it down in front of you two girls on the table.

“There are your art supplies, Your Highness,” he says. He turns and sets the box of diapers down on the counter. “And these are for the royals upstairs. Who, I hope, are still sleeping?” Eddie turns and looks over his shoulder with a hopeful smile. 

“Snoozing away,” Luke confirms. 

“Perfect,” your husband says. 

Eliza opens her mouth in a wide yawn, which triggers you to do the same. 

“What do you say we head up to bed, kid?” you ask your daughter.

She nods as she lets out another yawn. A small hand comes up to rub her eye. Eddie makes a mental note to wake her up early so she can make her card for you. 

Eliza’s small arms wrap around your neck, and you stand up, balancing her on your hip. 

“Night, boys,” you say before walking over to Eddie. “Coming up to bed soon?”

“Oh, absolutely,” he agrees before giving you a kiss. Eliza offers him her cheek, and he presses one there as well. “Goodnight, my beautiful ladies.”

As you walk towards the stairs, Eliza lays her head down on your shoulder, and you hold her a little bit tighter. Eddie watches until you start up the stairs, then he sits down in the chair you vacated. He lets out a deep sigh and drops his head down on the table.

Ryan cocks an eyebrow as he observes his father.

“You good?” he asks.

Eddie lifts one arm and gives him a thumbs-up. Luke snorts a laugh and leans towards his older brother.

“He forgot what tomorrow was,” he says, quiet enough that you won’t be able to hear. 

“I mean,” Ryan says with a shrug, “I’m surprised he remembers our names these days. He looks like a zombie lately.”

Eddie lifts his head and stares at his eldest child with a blank expression. 

“I take it you remembered, too?”

“Sure did.” Ryan’s mouth quirks up in a smug smile as he folds his arms across his chest. “Bought her a present in the gift shop of the museum.”

“What museum again?” Eddie asks, rubbing his hands over his face.

“Chicago Museum of Art,” he reminds him. “Bought her a pack of socks that have different famous paintings on them.”

“That’s good,” Eddie says with a sleepy nod. “Her feet are always freezing. Hey, want to help a zombie out?”

“What’s up?” Ryan asks.

“Want to go get the stuff out of my car for your poor old man?” Eddie does his best to give his boys a pleading smile.

“Don’t worry, old man,” Ryan says, slapping his father on the back. He pushes his chair back and stands up. “Us youngsters got this.”

“I raise the best sons,” Eddie sighs, letting his head fall back to the table. 

Luke snorts a laugh and gets up to follow his brother towards the garage. 

Once the door smacks closed behind the boys, Eddie turns his head to look at the clock on the microwave. 

“Look at that,” he mumbles to himself. “Solved Mother’s Day with a few hours to spare.”

Eddie tucks his arms beneath his head and waits for the boys to come back in with his purchases. He listens out for them, hearing the back of the car close. But he hears nothing after that. 

The door leading in from the garage opens and Ryan steps in, arms full of bags, and holds the door open with his foot for Luke to follow in with the large box containing the massager.

“Where do you want it, Dad?” Ryan asks. “Dad?”

Luke peeks around the side of the box and rolls his eyes. He sets the package down on the counter and shakes his head in amusement.

“He’s asleep.”

“Not surprised,” Ryan says. 

“Honestly,” Luke says with a sigh, “what would he do without us?”

[brittle-doughie]

So- hear me out..

In the beginning Pavlova Cookie lists out each one’s love story and what if he sees that y/n is deep in the pits of their crush for Hollyberry. Would the cookies of the garden try to get them closer together like having them drink together or have their warms baths next to each other to see if the love will blossom or crumble worse than a cookie chained to the bottom of the sea? (Could you add a good and bad ending to the little story too.. if it’s not too difficult of course)

~Cheers, Holly/Mystic Simp <3

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿

“Ah, what a relief. Cookies with the deeper wounds being tended to first, good good….”

“Yeah, we got beat up pretty bad, but I think we’ll be okay…”

“Y/N Cookie!”

Hollyberry Cookie heads over to inspect over your person, sighing in relief when she sees that your wounds aren’t too severe. The contact of her hands touching you causes your heart to jump to your chest!

“H-Hollyberry Cookie?!”

“It’s good to see that you’re still in one piece! I knew those monsters wouldn’t be able to bring you down! Ha!”

“R-right! I’d never want to let you down by crumbling in a fight! You’ve taught me well to let those skills go to waste l!”

“Oh, Y/N Cookie. You could never let me down! It’s always a joy to fight alongside friends!”

“Yep! Got it! I’ll go inspect the others and see if they’re doing good.”

“Okay, but remember! We still need to get going when all of the Cookies have healed!”

“Of course!”

You headed away, but towards a pillar instead of your fellow Cookies. You hide behind it as you now do your best to calm your beating heart.

“Oooh! Do I sense a longing desire for love in YOUR heart?”

“Excuse me?”

Pavlova Cookie had appeared next to you suddenly behind the pillar!

“You have a crying heart, one that aches to be with its other half. Unknowing if that other half will even return your feelings! Ooh, the suspense!”

“You’re not able to read hearts! That was just you playing around!”

“Oh, but I can! You’re so badly in love that anyone can see it, except for your crush though!”

“I’m just…waiting for the right moment, you know?”

“Well, you’re not going to make any progress being all flustered here! How about I try to arrange you two together! See how it goes!”

“No way, I-wait, you’d do that for me?”

“All love needs to find their way, it just needs a little push!”

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿

Pavlova tried all sorts of subtle tricks to try and nudge you and Hollyberry Cookie together, whether that be drinking juice as a pair or even having baths.

He waited behind any sort of cover to see if you or even Hollyberry would make the move. The two of you seemed to like each other’s company, you two shared smiles and laughs between you two. Pavlova was giddy as he held in a noise of excitement, he was about to see love blossom before his very eyes!

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿

It all came down to sitting under the tree, having just gone over one of the many adventures that you and her shared that left Hollyberry Cookie smiling from the thought of it.

“I still can’t believe you did such a crazy thing!”

“Hey! It was either the dragon or me, and it sure wasn’t going to be me no matter how ridiculous it was!”

“You were lucky I had your back there! You could’ve been dragon food!”

“Just part of the job description, my queen.”

“No….that’s not what I want you to do, don’t get yourself crumbled over me.”

“You just mean a lot to me, Hollyberry Cookie. I only wish to make sure you don’t have to get yourself hurt over me.”

“That’s why you should let me protect you! I can handle myself fine! It’s you who isn’t as durable!”

“Please, I’m just another soldier amongst the others!”

“….Not to me.”

That strikes a cord in your heart.

“Hollyberry Cookie….”

“Yes?”

“Do you….?”

“I do care a lot about you and would not like it for you to hurt yourself for me.”

“I know that. But..is that care to the extent of my own?”

“To what extent?”

“Hollyberry Cookie…”

You subtly look around you and you spot Pavlova Cookie hiding far back, excited to see a moment of possible romance blooming! You take a breath and look at Hollyberry Cookie, determined.

“I love you….”

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿

[She Loves Me]

“W-what did you say?!”

“I love you, Hollyberry Cookie! I had for the longest time and I couldn’t hold it in for any longer!”

Hollyberry was taken aback! She wasn’t expecting such a bold confession to her, it lifted her speechless!

“I…don’t know what to say…!”

“If that’s a no, I understand-“

“NO! I’m not saying no! Give me a moment!”

You step back and allow Hollyberry to collect herself.

“If you had warned me before pulling that, I would’ve answered with my own yes sooner!”

“You mean?!”

“That’s right! Come here, my dear Cookie!”

You two meet in a hug as you shared teary laughter with Hollyberry as she spins you around together with her under the tree.

Pavlova Cookie was trying his best to muffle his squealing at the sight of blossomed love.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿

[She Loves Me Not]

“Oh….”

“Huh?”

“I…love you too. As much as I love all my Cookies! I do not love anyone any more or less than the other!”

“Right! Right….I understand.”

You did understand, but boy, did your heart just shrivel up and die then and there…

Pavlova Cookie froze up, he did not expect that conclusion!

“Y/N Cookie….”

“I’m sorry, I just…need time to process this! I’m sorry!”

“Y/N Cookie! Wait! Come back!”

You ran off as Hollyberry tried to reach out for you, but you were too fast in running away!

Your emotions were in control now as you kept running and into the hedge maze, just trying to find some quiet spot to let out your sorrows.

You picked a little spot with a pillar that you leaned back on, hands in your face as you control your tears.

“Stupid, so stupid! Why did I even say that?! Now what’s she going to think?! Can I even face her again?!”

All this overthinking only made you more upset as you kept yourself together….

“I sensed your broken heart, my love…”

“W-who…?”

“Why, it’s me. The Bringer of Happiness!”

You looked up from your hands to see Eternal Sugar Cookie, her face holding much sympathy as she floated down and kneeling next to you.

“If you need someone right now, I am here for you…”

“No, please…”

“Don’t push me away…it’s okay to let out your feelings to me…I am not going anywhere…”

She even took the first step by scooting close and spreading her wings out to shield you from the world. You gave in and held her close as you wept, Eternal Sugar reciprocating as she brushed your icing hair.

“I’m always here for you….”

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿

[piroulinewafers]

could u write something about hybrid puppy caleb being nasty as hell..(leaving this open, feel free to do whatever uw im open to anything). i love ur writing sm i cant stop sending asks BYEEE i was wondering if u take anons? if so can i be 💐? have a lovely day xx

𝐚/𝐧: i love puppy hybrid caleb... i dont think this is very "nasty" in the sense of the word, but i've been brainrotting about puppy waiter caleb for quite some time and maid day was a few days past so... i love writing for hybrids hehe. back in the day, there used to be this hq hybrid acc i was super into on here and i would frequent their page often heh. i kind of got distracted at the end but whatever its fine sighhh. thank you 💐 anon for giving me an excuse to write this 😋.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: puppy hybrid! caleb x fem! reader 𝐜𝐰: smut, overstimulation. 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬: open.

it had started with a stupid comment.

she hadn’t meant it seriously— just an offhanded joke tossed to one of her friends while she and caleb were out buying groceries one evening, something about how those themed cafes with butlers or maid were always kind of… cute. silly. harmless

she hadn’t thought anything of it, merely a mention that they’d likely have a sale for the upcoming “maid day”. but caleb had heard.

he hadn’t said anything that night. just turned his head slightly, one ear twitching in the subtle way it did when he was paying attention to something he pretend not to be.

and now, somehow, here she was— standing in the their living room after returning home from work, door barely half-shut, blinking in stunned silence. 

frankly, it was suspicious. caleb was rarely quiet, especially not in the mornings. usually he greeted the day like it owed him something— loud yawns, half-buttoned shirts, big grins.

but today? silence. at least, until she finally spotted him.

there stood caleb, ears perking up at the sound of her entering the open-plan kitchen-living room space. 

the white button-up shirt he wore stretched across his chest, its collar messily done up, and the sleeves bunched up and slightly wrinkled like he had had been tugging at them nervously earlier. the pink pants were too fitted to be deemed anything close to comfortable in her eyes, the apron tied at his hips doing absolutely nothing to tame the broad frame it cinched in. it was pink and white plaid, with little ruffles along the hem and a small satin bow at the base of his spine, right above the soft wage of his tail. 

and, as if that wasn’t enough— frosting. a small, very deliberate smear of white on his cheek. 

he simply beamed.

“what are you wearing, caleb?” she finally asked, brows drawing into a confused furrow.

caleb tilted his head, hands innocently behind his back as his tail wagged a mile a minute. “it’s maid day,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “wasn’t that somethin’ you mentioned once? somethin’ cute?”

“you… remember that? were you eavesdropping?”

he stepped closer, ignoring her accusation entirely. “i made breakfast,” he said, proudly. “figured i’d serve it up like a proper house pup.”

she sat slowly, still stunned as caleb presented her a plate with surprising care: pancakes, stacked with melted butter and syrup dripping along the edges with a mound of frosting, beside a slightly too runny sunny side up egg.

he stood behind her once she started eating, arms crossed, watching eagerly.

“well?” he asked, tail twitching almost nervously, ears perking up against as he waited for her response.

“it’s good,” she said, voice muffled by a mouthful of pancake. “why’s the egg so— “

“don’t worry about it,” he interrupted, before she could ruin the moment. “it was just that stupid pan, but i tried real hard, so isn’t that all that matters?”

she could tell by the flicking of his tail that he was nervous, eagerly awaiting her response. 

there was another beat of silence as she took another bite— and that’s when caleb leaned in.

“by the way…” he said, practically purring, brushing a knuckle to his cheek. “i think i got a lil’ somethin’ right here. right there. frostin’. could you maybe…”

he trailed of, nudging his face toward her, ears twitching. 

she sighed. “you’re ridiculous.”

but she leaned up, gently brushing her thumb over the smear. that was all the permission he needed.

in an instant, caleb let out a pleased, puppy-like hum and nuzzled into her hand, rubbing his cheek against her palm before quickly shifting to lick it— one long, deliberate lap.

“caleb!” she gasped, trying to pull away, but he caught her easily, tail wagging wildly. 

“you said i was ridiculous,” he said, half laughing, half whining. “but you haven’t told me to stop.” he held her hand pressed to his cheek with two firm ones.

“your hands are so gentle,” he whispered. his eyes, flushed deep violet, looked up at her with a dangerous kind of devotion, all puppy-dog sincerity wrapped in pure, unadulterated, debilitating love. 

his tongue brushed along her cheek before she could speak. “you like this, don’tcha? you like it when i act dumb for you.”

“stop it— “ 

“but you were smilin’,” he said with a wicked grin. “saw it. you’re all flustered.”

she tried to push him off, but caleb was bigger. stronger. and annoyingly needy.

he whined again, low and soft in his chest, like she was about to leave him out in the cold. “c’mon, baby. just pet me a little. tell me i’m good. i dressed up and everythin’…”

his tail brushed across her legs as he leaned in closer, voice dropping. “i’ll do anything’….”

her heart kicked hard against her ribs.

the apron brushed against her knees as he grew close, his hands sliding around her waist, warm palms pulling her closer. “been thinkin’ about this all mornin’,” he admitted, half under his breath, “’bout you touchin’ me. praisin’ me. let me serve you properly. like a good waiter would.”

the air shifted between them. heated. 

he leaned in again, lips brushing the shell of her ear. “say i’m good. say it once and i’ll be the best pup you ever had.”

her hands found his hair, sliding between the soft space between his twitching ears. 

and when she finally spoke, low and soft, it broke something in him. 

“you’re such a good boy, caleb.” 

his breath caught. and then he growled— not in anger, but in something needier, more primal. 

she barely had time to register the shift before he leaned forward and kissed her— messy, eager, with the same urgency he gave to every part of his life. his ears twitched, on flopping forward as if to listen in on her heartbeat, his tail curling slightly behind him in its furious wagging. 

he didn’t stop at one kiss. caleb chased her mouth like he was starving, like she was the only thing in the would that could sate him. his hands gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him as he licked her bottom lip with a small, teasing flick— less polished, more instinctual. 

“i wore this dumb frilly thing just for you,” he mumbled against her lips, breath warm and quick. “didn’t think i’d like it, but… you lookin’ at me like that— “ he groaned softly, his forehead pressed to hers now. “say you like it. please. just say it.”

wide-eyed and breathless, she nodded slowly. “you… you look cute,” she whispered, barely audible. 

his whole body responded— ears perked, tail wagging in a blur. he lit up like a fuse, practically vibrating with joy, before dragging her down into another kiss, hands roaming but still restrained— just barely. 

“tell me i’m good again,” he muttered, mouth brushing against the curve of her jaw now. “tell me i’m good, please. woke up early to make you breakfast. got frosting’ on my cheek and didn’t lick it just so you’d touch me. all for you.”

his lips ghosted along her neck, needy and reverent. his breath hitching as she scratching behind his ears, a delight sound spilling past his lips.

“i’ll do anything— ‘m serious. i’ll behave, i’ll kneel, i’ll bark, i don’t care— just say it again.” 

the apron bunched around his waist as he shifted against her, still clinging, still pressing kisses anywhere he could reach. his tail thumbed again, half-wrapped around her ankle now and his ears twitching at every sound she made, every soft breath or sigh.

“i love you, caleb…”

eagerly in response, he licked her cheek without warning again— just a soft, eager swipe like it was the most natural thing in the world. “you taste sweet too.”

“caleb,” she said, a mixture between a laugh and an exasperated sigh.

“what?” he grinned, all mischief and love as he pulled back a bit to get a better look at her face. “you let me kiss you. now i gotta touch, gotta hold— gotta do somethin’ or i’m going to explode.”

gently, she cupped his cheeks, thumbing over the faint freckles on his face. she watched him tilt his head in her grasp, staring up at her with that smitten gaze of his. with a hum, she peppered sweet, feather-light kisses to his skin, finally giving into his pleas. 

she kissed him again, and again and he melted into every one— hot, soft, trembling with affection as he murmured, “love you, love you so much. let me show you. let me— “

his violet eyes gleamed with a mix of playfulness and barely restrained desire as he straddled her lap, his larger frame enveloping hers. 

the soft fabric of his pink pants stretched taught over his muscular thighs, the frill apron at his waist fluttered softly as he shifted his hips, grinding down against her pajama-clad bottom.

caleb’s breathing grew heavy as he nuzzled at her collarbone, nipping at the sensitive skin as he panted. he was painfully hard, his erection straining against the confines of his pants. the outline of his cock, complete with the distinct knot at the base, was clearly visible. he squirmed, leaning more of his weight against her, unable to contain the overwhelming urge to claim her, to make her his.

his fingers crept up under her shirt, pushing the fabric higher up her torso as he explored the soft skin beneath. he wanted to touch her, to feel every inch of her body against his own. 

“please,” he whined, his voice taking on a more canine-like timbre. “i’m so hard, i need to— fuck— “

his actions forced a sharp gasp to leave her, cold hands pressed against the bare skin of her stomach as she looked up at him, lips parted. 

she bit her lip, feeling the heat of caleb’s body pressed so urgently against her own. as much as she loved seeing him all dressed up just for her, she couldn’t help but feel a bit overwhelmed by his intensity, even though she was used to it to some extent. 

it was still so early, and her stomach grumbled with hunger, the half eaten eggs and pancakes calling her name while caleb rutted against her. “caleb, wait…” she started to protest, fingers curling into the collar of his shirt, trying to smooth the fabric and perhaps calm the manic energy radiating off of him.

but caleb seemed not to hear her, too lost in his own desperate need as he captured her wrists, pinning her hands above her head as he loomed over her, eyes wild and hungry. “please,” he growled, his voice a deep, resonant rumble that sent shivers down her spine this time. “i can’t wait anymore. i need you so bad…”

before she could voice any further objections, caleb had hoisted her up and then gently but firmly pushed her down onto the wooden floor. she let out a soft grunt as her back his the ground, the air leaving her lungs in a rush as she rubbed her back. 

“caleb, the floor is uncomfortable— “

any attempt at a complain fell on deaf ears, as caleb was already settling his weight on top of her, his hips neatly between her spread thighs. he rocked against her, his painfully hard cock straining against the confines of his pink pants as it chafed against her pajama bottoms. the knot at the base of his shaft pulsed and throbbed. 

she squirmed beneath him, cheeks flushed pink as she fettle heat of his desperation, the way his body trembled with the effort of holding back. “it’s too early, caleb, i didn’t even finish breakfast…”

his ears twitched and flattened back against his head as he leaned down to shut her up, capturing her lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth, claiming her. his tail wagged frantically behind him, the long, fluffy appendage brushing against her thighs as he ground his aching cock against her core. he groaned into her mouth, the sound a mix of pleasure and frustration. 

“i know, i know,” he panted, breath hot against her neck as he nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin. “i’ll make it up to you, baby. i promise. i’ll spoil you rotten, just please— “he punctuated his words with a particularly sharp nip to her earlobe, sending sparks of pained pleasure through her.

caleb’s hands roamed her body greedily, pushing up under her pajama top again to expose the soft skin of her stomach and chest. he splayed his fingers wide, gripping her waist and rocking more insistently against her as he gazed down at her with burning eyes. 

his hands slid down to her pajama pants, fingers curling into the waistband as he tugged impatiently at the fabric. she knew she should protest more, should insist that he slow down, but the hungry, desperate look in his eyes stole her breath away. she gasped softly as he yanked her pants down, baring her lower half to his heated gaze.

the knot at the base of his cock throbbed almost painfully, straining against the fabric of his boxers and the tight confines of his pants. it rubbed deliciously against her clothed slit, the friction sending sparks of reluctant pleasure zinging up her spine. 

 his desperation reached a fever pitch, fingers clumsy in their urgency as he forced her panties to the side, , exposing the glistening folds to the cool air. the scent of her arousal filled his nose, making his head swim with lust.

still clothed in his straining pink pants, caleb tried to shove the right fabric down his thighs, panting harshly as he struggled to free his aching cock. the button and zipper fought against his desperate, trembling fingers until, with a final frustrated snarl, he ripped the fabric, tearing a gaping hole in the crotch of his pants. the ruined garment hung in a tattered state as he threw it to the side wtith his boxers, his throbbing erection springing free, bulbous knot at the base pulsing angrily.

she gasped at the sight, eyes widening. “caleb!” she scolded lightly, her cheeks flushing pink. “look at what you’ve done to your nice pants!” despite her words, there was a hint of amusement in her voice as she propped herself up on her , sitting up a bit.

caleb was too far gone, too consumed by his own need to care about ruined clothing. he shook his head, ears flopping as he gazed down at her with glazed, lust-filled eyes. drool dripped from the corner of his mouth, splattering onto her exposed clit, making it glisten obscenely and forcing a shaky sigh past her lips. 

“don’t look at me like that…” he grumbled, dejection clearly clinging to his words. 

he was left only in the frilly apron, still tied snugly around his waist, his fat cock tenting against the fabric and leaving an obscene damp spot in it's wake.

before she could offer any sort of response, caleb was rutting against her again, the swollen head of his cock kissing her entrance, smearing her arousal around her delicate folds. she gasped, back arching off the floor as he grunted and panted above her, hips moving in a frenzied rhythm.

he tried once, twice, each time clumsily trying to sink into her, but his cock kept notching against her hole and slipping out, rubbing against her folds on her thigh. 

then, with a single, powerful thrust, he drove forward, burying his thick, pulsing shaft into her tight, wet heat. she cried out, nails raking down his back as he split her own on his fat cock, knot catching on her entrance and tugging at her stretched flesh.

caleb set a relentless pace, hips slapping against her thighs with each desperate, needy thrust. the wet, obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, punctuated by caleb’s grunts and growls of pleasure. 

he didn’t give her time to adjust, didn’t bother with gentle or slow. he just took her, claimed her, body driven by a primal, animalistic instinct. 

“i’m sorry,” he panted, his voice strained with exertion and ecstasy. “i’m sorry i didn’t prepare you better. ‘couldn’t wait any longer. fuck, you’re so tight, so perfect…” his words dissolved into a low, keening moan as he snapped his hips forward particularly hard, the head of his cock battering her cervix.

she could only cling to him, fingers digging into the muscles of his back, feeling them flex and tense with each powerful thrust. her legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his ass as he rutted into her, thick cock stretching her walls deliciously. she could feel every ridge, every vein, every throbbing inch of his shaft as he plunged in and out of her dripping cunt.

caleb’s ears stood tall and alert atop his head , swivelling and twitching with every sound and sensation. his tail brushed against her calves, wagging with wild abandon as he lost himself in the sensation of her tight, wet heat gripping his aching cock. 

his tail thumped against the the floorboards with reckless abandon, each thrust forcing more breathy moans past her lips, eyes screwed shut. 

“please, please… please look at me. look, look— “caleb whimpered, his breath coming in harsh, desperate pants against her neck. “i love you, i love you so fuckin’ much. i need to… i need to…” he couldn’t even finish his thought process, his hips twitching. 

“‘gonna knot you, yeah, can i?” he forced out, though they both knew that he wasn/t the type to wait for anyone’s permission before acting. 

his cock pulsed and jerked inside her as thick ropes of hot, sticky seed finally painted her inner walls.

she cried out, walls clamping down around him like a vice as she felt his release fill her up, her own orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave, body shaking and shuddering as she came hard on his pistoning cock. 

caleb’s body shuddered, muscles tensing as his knot swelled and notched in her. he let out guttural grown as he felt the bulbous flesh expand, tying them together as he squeezed his eyes shut, the sensation of being deeply, irrevocably bound to her sending shockwaves of pleasure-pain through his body. 

despite the discomfort of his knot stretching her to her limits, caleb couldn’t stop the instinctive need to rut, to claim, to mark his mate. his hips jerked and twitched erratically, his softening cock rubbing against her sensitive walls as he weakly humped into her, chasing the fading embers of his release. 

“can’t… can’t stop,” he panted harshly, his breath hot and moist against her neck. drool dribbled from his chin, splattering not her collarbone as he ground his pelvis against hers, his knot throbbing and pulsing inside her with each weak thrust.

she whimpered, her inner muscles fluttering and clenching around the thick obstruction lodged deep inside her. the sensation of being so utterly stuffed, of feeling caleb’s seed sloshing heavily inside her as he rutted into her, was intense and overwhelming. 

it was almost too much, the pleasure bordering on pain as her tender flesh struggled to accommodate his insistent movements.

she gasped out, her fingers digging into his shoulders, nails biting into his skin as she tried to anchor herself amidst the tempest of sensation. “it’s t-too much. you’re hurting me…��� despite her words, she made no move to stop him, her body instinctively yielding to his claiming thrusts.

caleb just groaned in responses, hips giving a particularly sharp jerk as he buried his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply and lapping at the teeth marks he had left early. 

his body shuddered, muscles quivering with exertion as his hips seemed to jerk on their own, instinct-driven thrusts. he panted easily, breathing coming out in ragged gasps against her sweat-dampened skin. “sorry,” he grunted, voice strained. “I know i’m hurtin’ you, i just.. i can’t stop. fuck, it feels too good.”

he let out a low, agnozied groan as a particular jolt of discomfort shot through him, his knot twisting and tugging at her stretched, sensitive entrance, any attempt to pull out to thrust in any deeper stopped by his inflated knot.

“hurts… fuck, it hurts, but i can’t— “

finally, with a shuddered gasp, his body went limp, knees weak as he slumped forward, practically collapsed on top of her, pressing her into the floor. 

she let out a weak, breathless protest as she as she found herself pinned beneath him, still so intimately connected. she gently hit his shoulder with a closed fist. 

“ow, caleb, you jerk…” she whimpered, shifting her hips gingerly and wincing at the feeling of him inside of her. “you’re a bad dog, you need to learn how to control yourself and— oof!”

caleb suddenly rolled them over so that her body was splayed out on top of him, soft curves molding to the hard planes of his body.

he just pouted up at her, lips curling into a miserable frown. he looked so adorably sorry, looking up at her with those irresistible puppy dog eyes. “i know, i know,” he mumbled, his voice thick with guilt. “you don’t really think i’m a bad dog, do you? i just love you so much… i can’t help myself around you…”

he nuzzled into her neck once more, his nose brushing against her jawline as he breathed in her scent, still heavy with the musk of their coupling.

the room had gone quiet, save for the slow, steady rhythm of caleb’s breathing and the soft thump-thump of his tail against the floor. he lay sprawled on his back on the floor, cheeks flushed pink and the apron still bunched up around his waist, with her draped over his chest like she belonged there— and she did. his arms were wound tightly around her waist, fingers twitching now and then as if to remind himself she was real, she was here, and she was his.

he gave a soft, tired whine, muffled in her hair as he nuzzled the top of her head. “m’not lettin’ you go,” he mumbled, tail giving another lazy wag against the wood floor. “even if i could.”

she gave a sleepy huff of laughter, nose tucked against his collarbone, her legs tangled with his. “hm, is that so, puppy?”

that earned a pleased rumble from deep in his chest. his ears gave a lazy twitch, one flopping sideways as he smiled, dazed and dopey. he was still flushed, still panting just a little, but more than anything, he looked happy. puppy-happy. glowing with the kind of simple joy only he could manage after something so intense.

“you’re real warm,” he mumbled, cheek smushed into her temple. “perfect size. like a little blanket just for me.”

“you’re the heater here,” she teased weakly, but her voice was fond, her fingers lazily combing through his hair and brushing along the base of one ear. 

he let out a whuff of a sigh and arched into it, tail thumping a little faster now.

“spoilin’ me,” he murmured. “i’m going to get all needy if you keep that up.”

“you’re already needy as is,” she said, and he didn’t even deny it— just gave a dopey grin and licked her cheek again, soft and slow, like he couldn’t help himself.

“guess i am,” he said, his voice all gravel and sunshine, “but you like it. admit it.”

she rolled her eyes, but didn’t move. didn’t want to move. not with him still knotted inside her, not with his arms like iron around her and that soft, puppyish whine every time she shifted too far away. not with his tail brushing her calves and his thumb lazily stroking her lower back in slow, content circles.

“i like you like this,” she admitted finally, cheek resting over his heartbeat. “all clingy and warm. soft.”

his ears perked up, tail wagging harder now despite how tired he was. “yeah?”

“yeah.”

he made a soft, pleased wuff again, kissed the top of her head, and tightened his hold. “then i’m stayin’ like this forever. right here. with you. no one else gets you like this, alright? just me.”

she smiled into his skin, letting her eyes drift shut, wrapped in the arms of the world’s biggest, clingiest, most lovably infatuated puppy.

“so needy, caleb,” she hummed. she let out a soft sigh, pressing a kiss to his bare chest as she rested her cheek against him..

“just you.”

[littlemillersbaby]

"well hello"

request: hiiii!! saw ur baker fic & loved it was wondering if you could write teacher!fem!reader? like she’s one of the teachers in Jackson and ofc ellie’s in her class and ellie LOVES HER talks about her nonstop and bothers joel. one day at pick up he finally sees her and he definitely understands what all the hype’s about now. It can lead to smut or not whatever you want I love ur writing <333 word count: 1,3k warnings: +18 minors dni, too lazy to write more but there's smut and language!

it’s just past three, and your classroom smelled faintly of chalk dust and damp wood. ellie was long gone, already bolted with a bounce in her step and a grin that cracked sideways when you reminded her that her essay on pre-fall governance systems still needed citations. you really liked her. she was smart-mouthed, whip-quick, a little feral in that lovable way if there was one.

you were gathering up worksheets into one neat stack when there’s a knock—barely even that, more like a hesitant tap. you look up, and there he is.

joel miller.

you’ve heard of him in bits and pieces, mostly ellie’s flippant mentions. "my old man," she says, or "joel says if you give me homework on a friday he’ll riot." the usual teenager noise. but you’d pictured someone rough, maybe grizzled, but the real thing? no one warned you about those bedroom eyes.

he’s leaning halfway into your doorframe, one hand braced against it like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to come in. you couldn't help but take him in; worn flannel, heavy shoulders. his gaze cuts across the room until it lands on you, then lingers like he’s trying to figure out what to say.

“hey,” he says. voice like gravel, but still warm and apologetic. “uh..i’m here to pick up ellie.”

you blink, “oh, she left ten minutes ago. said she was heading home.”

joel blinks right back, slowly this time. you watch his mouth twitch, not quite a smile, more a grimace of regret. “of course she did.”

“she told me you’d come late,” you add, something about the way he stands there makes you want to offer him anything. a chair, coffee maybe.

he huffs out a breath, rubs a hand over the back of his neck, fingers catching in graying curls. “figures...guess she figured i’d just find my way here anyway.”

“and she was right,” you smile, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear, tilting your head. “she’s clever like that.”

his eyes—brown, kind—settle on you again. longer this time. like maybe he’s taking his time to memorize you. your cardigan’s too big, sleeves pushed to your elbows and there’s a bit of pink and orange chalk on your fingers. he sees it all, catalogues it.

“you’re her teacher,” he says, not a question.

you nod, with a small smile. “mhm.. history.”

he nods too, but it’s faint, the air feels weirdly full all of a sudden. he shifts, and you catch the faint creak of leather from his belt. the man is solid. not just physically, though, lord, yeah, that too—but there’s something rooted in him.

“she talks about you,” he says, breaking the silence.“a lot.”

you swallow, “i hope it’s all good things.”

his mouth twitches again, and this time it’s definitely a smile, a crooked one but a smile nonetheless. “she says you’re smart. don’t take her shit. and that you swear sometimes when you’re grading papers.”

you laugh, nodding at the ellie's silliness. “that’s true.”

“she likes you.”

something about the way he says it makes your stomach do a little flip. the way his eyes don’t leave yours. how his voice drops on that last word—like he’s testing the water.

you could say something flirty here..something coy. but instead—

“do you want to get a drink sometime?” you blurt, then immediately feel heat crawl up your neck. “i mean, just, if you’re free..and want to.”

joel doesn’t blink, he just stares for a second at you; you could tell he was wondering if he heard you right.

“yes,” he says, so fast. “yes, i would love to.”

it was now saturday night at 7:00pm, and you were second-guessing all off it, thinking that you should've canceled.

you tell yourself it’s because of the cold—there’s a chill in the air but not threatening enough to cancel. it’s because you haven’t dated since coming to jackson.

but you show up to the bar anyway. it’s small, just off the main road. the smokey firewood smell clings to the ceiling beams, and old pre-fall songs hum low through restaurant speakers. joel was already there when you walked in, sitting at a corner table, hands curled around a glass of brown.

he stands when he sees you. such a gentleman.

“you came,” he says, and he looks so sincere about it your chest hurts.

“of course i did,” you say, sliding into the seat across from him.

he orders you a drink, and for the first few minutes it’s causal talk: ellie, school, the town, then it starts to slip into something else.

“you always this quiet?” you ask, teasing.

he raises a brow. “you always this bold?”

“bold? please...you should see me on parent-teacher night. i’m a badass.”

he chuckles and it’s soft and full of sweetness. it makes his whole face change. you sip your drink and watch the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles.

“what about you?” you ask. “always this broody?”

joel leans back, one arm slung over the back of the booth. “only when i’m tryin’ to impress someone.”

“you think it's working?”

his eyes flick down to your mouth, then back up.

“yeah,” he says. “think it is.”

later, when the drinks are gone and the once big fire is now burning low, he walks you home. the streets are too quiet while snow comes down in soft flakes. his hand brushes yours once. then again, finally on the third, you just take it.

your fingers tangle easily, like they’ve been doing it forever. at your door, there’s a pause. his breath plumes in the cold. his eyes search yours, asking without words.

you don’t make him ask.

“you want to come in?”

“yeah,” he says again, that same voice, full and sure. “i’d love to.”

the door closes behind him, and it’s like the air shifts with warmth.

neither of you says anything for a second. his eyes are still on you, dark and lustful. you can feel the beat of your heart, too loud in your chest. his fingers twitch like he wants to touch you, but he's too hesitant.

so you take his hand again, lead him inside, past the coat hooks, into the living room. you turn to face him, suddenly unsure. “joel, i—”

he cuts you off by kissing you deeply. you open your mouth under his, and the kiss deepens even more. one of his hands cradles your face, the other grips your waist. he pulls you in as you moan into his mouth.

he groans low. “fuck,” he mutters against your lips. “you feel good.”

you thread your hands into his salt and pepper hair, dragging his mouth back to yours. you break for some air and he chases your mouth, kisses down your jaw, and your throat. his beard scrapes against your skin, making you wetter than before.

“bedroom,” you say.

he lifts his head, eyes blown wide. “you sure?”

“yes,” you breathe. “joel, yes, please.”

you don’t remember the walk to the room. it’s a complete blur, hands under shirts, skin on skin, maybe a bit of grinding.

he undresses you slow, like he’s afraid to rush it. and when he’s finally bare before you—he’s so large, scarred, and beautiful—you pull him down onto the bed.

“look at me,” you say.

he does as he slides into you, slowly and unhurried, one hand pressed to your cheek. the rhythm starts off slow. his breath catching on every thrust as your nails claw at his back. he kisses you and talks you through it. over and over.

“been thinkin’ about you,” he says, voice ragged. “since the first moment..couldn’t stop.”

“me too,” you whisper. “joel—don’t stop..please don’t stop.”

he fucks you so well and lovingly. God, you can't remember the last time you felt so good. and when you both cum, shaking and holding on to each other. you think to yourself, maybe jackson was a good move.

special tags: @inbred-eater , @wintfleur , @lowrisemiller

[neodazed]

enhypen -🎀- squirting for them for the first time

ot7xfem!reader - when they make you squirt for the first time

warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f), cum eating, overstimulation, slight daddy kink, lmk if i missed smth

alr started writing this when I saw recent similar fics for enha but there’s like a hundred of these here so don’t think that’s an issue

my sunki fics flopped so bad i went back to writing imagines instead of my other drafts LMAO ty for more than 2k views on the last one and for 200+ followers. pls request after reader my post regarding that, i’d love to see and write ur thoughts!! have fun reading 💋 masterlist

HEESEUNG

For Heeseung it’s almost like squirting = marriage.

A new found level of possesiveness awakens in him, basically.

You’re laying flat on your back, legs spread as wide as they can go, and he is plunging three fingers inside you.

His pace is no other than harsh, not an inch of his being is trying to be gentle. To be honest, he doesn’t need to be anyway — that’s just how you like it.

Thank God you were wet, or else those ocassional spits on your clit wouldn’t be able to match the rough bones of his digits carving their well earned place in your fluttering hole. With each quick thrust, the low side of his palm bumps against your little nub, drawing a lovely whimper out of you.

He’s not leaning over your body, doesn’t press comforting kisses on your face or neck. He is sitting on his knees between your two trembling thighs, and watches your cunt gasping for his fingers hungrily.

It’s getting way too sloppy now, creating those nasty almost slurping-like sounds, and it almost makes him want to lean down and bury his mouth in there, but then again, the sight is so pretty for him.

So instead, he stares and he talks. And oh, his way of talking is dirty, all possesive. Speaking of your pussy as it was the most beautiful masterpiece hung up in his favorite museum.

Your hole clenches, tighter and more intensively than normally, and you feel a flood rushing down in your tummy, one that has you curling the tip of your toes backwards, gripping the sheets underneath you like you’re about to fell off a bridge.

You try to warn him in time, you swear. The weakest ‘Hee’ leaves your mouth, a mix of a somewhat scream and moan, and you grab his forearm, but as expected, it doesn’t make him stop, it just encourages him to increase every sensation he’s currently providing. So there’s nothing you can do when a gush of liquid spills out of you, high enough to latch onto his black fitted shirt.

His heart fucking flutters at that, pride swelling up in his chest.

‘You made that big mess for me?’

‘Only I can make you cum like that. I now that’s right.’

‘C’mon, squirt again for me. You know I’m not stopping ‘til you do.”

JAY

His head has been hitting your cervix repeatedly for some time now, his balls slapping against your ass with each stroke, shaft hitting your clit.

Absolutely no thoughts in your head, just dick dick and dick.

It’s almost like every vein was created just to brush your gummy walls with the perfect force he always settles on. He’s curved to fit right into you, and if he wasn’t, well, he carved out his place in there well enough by now.

Feeling full of him has to be the most precious feeling, talking about any of your holes. And his hands are rough, they grip and sink and have completely no restrain when it comes to your body.

It’s a release you don’t even really feel coming (maybe because he already emptied you so many times), it crashes onto you.

Your scream is one the neighbours will give dirty looks about later on, but truly, who cares in the moment? Not like he would have the strength to muffle it, or the attention, he is fixated on you.

On the way your sudden finish spurts all over his cock, his abs, his arms- he goes feral.

‘Oh my god, princess. What’d you do there?’ He laughs in amusement, his movements never stopping, just letting down from the pace.

‘You came all over Daddy’s cock? Without saying a word?’ He’s already back in full force, ignoring your whines and lightly pained whimpers, slamming into you even harder now.

‘I’m sure you can do it on command then, too. Come on, show me.’

JAKE

You already came three times.

Yet, no amount of tugging on his locks would make him lift his head up from between your shaking thighs.

See, Jake is a greedy man. Every time he gives head, he acts like a starved man who is on a strictly ‘pussy for all meals’ diet, and hasn’t eaten for weeks.

One orgasm is nothing to him. It’s like he doesn’t even notice it happened, he keeps going. Goes between munching at your folds and sucking on your clit.

Two orgasms make him hum quietly, like he’s just starting to get the taste of it.

Three? That’s a good number, but still, it’s not enough. If you managed to cum three times already, what’s stopping you from cumming one more?

That’s the logic.

And you would think the upcoming one would be just a tired suffer with minimal semen going into the mix of spit and cum, but it’s something else. He plunges his tongue deep into you, and begin to move it right there, and it almost feels like he’s flicking at your cervix.

You cry out, legs locking his head in space (not like he wasn’t glued there already). You swash right inside his open lips, on his tongue. He grips your thighs harder, and wait until you finish. When he lifts his head up, finally, it’s kinda…full of cum. Like, literally. His chin completely soaked, his nose wet, his eyelids covered too. It’s a sight for sure.

‘Baby…that was so fucking hot.’ He says in awe, blinking up at you. He’s so in love. You smile softly, though your face is going red more and more by the minute. You are still sprawled out, sticky and open, and now you feel a bit sheepish.

‘Can you clean me up, please?’ You mean with a towel. Obviously. That’s what normal people do.

But Jake’s smile turns slow. Dangerous. Still hungry.

He leans in.

You freeze.

‘Jake, wait-‘

But it’s too late. His tongue is already on your inner thigh, licking a slow stripe up to where you’re still dripping.

Then his mouth is on you again. Soft, wet kisses over the mess he made, drinking you down like it’s water after a drought.

You try to squirm away, gasping his name — but he just pins your hips down with a firm hand and grins up at you.

‘I’m just cleaning you up.” — Then, quieter — ‘Gotta take care of my girl, right?’

SUNGHOON

You were getting punished.

So how on earth was it so good?

The way he’s spanking your pussy should have made you cry a long time ago, but instead, it’s just keeps on getting…better? Sure, it hurts, how could it not? A very sensitive area, indeed, probably not made to be spanked, but…

It was the good kind of hurt. The one that kept chasing slick out of your hole after every swing on your clit. Your body is thrown between two different reactions, half squirming away, half desperately chasing the sensation.

No fingers inside, no thumb rubbing your bundle, no tongue stroking your folds — just rough, precise hits.

He is spreading you open with two fingers, but keeps them strictly there, no slipping in between. Only so that he can reach all of you, making sure it hurts enough. Enough that you realize what you have done wrong, refrain from ever doing it again. Enough so that you feel that this pussy belongs to him, and he can do whatever he wants to it.

To his surprise, it’s also enough to make you squirt.

To Fucking squirt.

One minute, he’s spanking your nasty little cunt, and you’re crying to stop, then the next, his pace has to falter, cause a flood of liquid splashes out of it.

He snorts. Not really in amusement.

‘You’re unbelievable, you know that?’ — He looks down at you with a scoff — ‘I’m trying to punish you here, and you enjoy yourself more than normally’

‘It’s just…sensitive’ You sniffle. The hurt now comes in stronger, when you are no longer getting stimulated.

Sunghoon tsk’s and pushes his dirtied digits past your tear-soaked lips. Your face crunches up from the taste, but you do your best to swallow all of it. And that fucker turns that around, too.

‘You really just slurped up all of it? Didn’t leave me anything?’

‘I-I thought-‘

‘I must take another taste, then…’

You cry out the moment his hot tongue makes contact with your red swollen clit.

SUNOO

He’s casually hovering over you, mouth on left nipple, finger rubbing your clit. The suckling and stroking movements are equally hard.

You guys’ve been at it for some time now, lazily making out, most of his energy being put into pleasuring you. You were already on the edge a couple of times but he stopped there and went back into it just to drag it out.

‘Shh, just a little more. You’re not that impatient, right?’

He earns himself an eye roll for that, but only snorts, and pushes you closer.

His bare chest presses against yours, kisses soft and deep, and it’d be romantic even, if you could forget that he’s been edging you for half an hour. He always says it’ll make your release bigger and better, but hasn’t really convinced you yet.

Until now.

Because when he finally settles on the good space, even after feeling your stomach tighten, it doesn’t take you any longer to squirt.

And, the ‘see? told you’ look on his face could not be more smug.

‘Wow. Look who was right?’

‘My new take is that I can make you squirt two times in a row. Wanna find out?’

JUNGWON

Jungwon, to put it simply, is flabbergasted when it happens.

Like, on his tongue?

Around his fingers?

Because of him?

What did he do in his past life to deserve this? Whatever it was he is one lucky mothefucker.

You couldn’t even prepare him or give him a chance to pull away (he would never), since you yourself didn’t expect it at all. The truth is, you’ve never squirted before. Orgasms with a little more force? Producing a little more cum than usual? Sure, those happened, nothing too crazy. But it certainly never splashed onto his face like a fucking cunami, Jungwon thinks.

Poor boy wants nothing but to bury himself there right away, but he's not sure if you'd want that, given that you're still shaking under him. Instead, he strokes your thighs (still around his head), and murmurs,

'That was...good, right?' He asks, voice suddenly shy like he forgot what was he doing in the first place.

'Baby...you just made me squirt into your mouth. It was more than good, trust me.' You say with a weak chuckle.

'I want to taste. Can I?' How could you even say no to that adorable pleading gaze?

'Go ahead, Wonnie. Taste how good you made me feel.'

RIKI

It was just a matter of time before your first squirt after you started having sex, you knew for sure.

Riki's ego didn't need a lift though, and since he never brought it up by himself, you just assumed he either didn't know you were capable of doing it. or he's just content with the usual five orgasms he brings you to every time you guys have sex.

He absolutely knew what he was doing to you every time, but this?

This he did not expect.

You were bouncing on his cock with your best of strength, and he was watching you with a smirk, layed back on his arms, annoying and hot as ever. He wasn't putting in too much effort, but when he did move his hips to meet your thrust, God it reached the most perfect spot without a single miss.

He made a few statements, and those were...

'Your tits are all up in my business. Just how they should be.'

'Fuck, Y/N, this pussy is squeezing me so hard. You were hungry for my cock, weren't you?'

'From this position, I'll come right onto your cervix, You're gonna be dripping so bad...'

With a rather loud cry, cum splashed out of your slick hole with a nasty sound. No thumb circling around your clit, no lips suckling on your nipples, just Riki's cock, raw and hard, all for you to fuck your little cunt on.

Of course he followed you immediatelly.

And of course, he had things to say.

'Oh. So we're squrting now?'

'Why wait a month? Were you shy to show how much you love this cock?' His finger is dipping down into your heat, bringing it to his mouth to taste.

'Riki, I'm sensi-'

'Shh. Let me see. You'll have to do it again now, anyway.'

[andy-15-07]

The One That Got Away

PAIRING: Tommy Miller x reader

Word Count:1082| requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

The Last Of Us Masterlist

Pre-Outbreak – Austin, Texas

"You’re really gonna leave the house lookin’ that good and not expect me to say anything?"

You smirk, leaning against the kitchen counter, coffee in hand. "You’re really gonna be late for work again if you don’t stop flirting with me every morning."

Tommy wraps his arms around your waist from behind, lips brushing your ear. "Ain’t flirtin’ if it’s true."

"Still makes you late," you tease.

"And worth every second." He spins you around, kissing you like the world isn’t on fire, like nothing could go wrong.

Post-Outbreak – Jackson, Wyoming (Years Later)

"Tommy!" Maria's voice cuts through the biting winter air as she hurries toward him. "We’ve got a new group coming in. Patrol found them southeast , couple of 'em are hurt."

He sighs, tossing his gloves into the bin outside the stables. "Another one? That's the third group this month."

"I know. But there’s someone you’re gonna want to see." She hesitates. “I didn’t believe it at first.”

"What do you mean?"

Maria tilts her head. "Just… come with me."

He walks through the clinic doors, the cold following him in. Jackson’s med bay is warm but tense. People shift around, helping a few newcomers settle in. And then,

He sees her.

You.

You're sitting on a cot, bundled in a jacket too big for you, bandage on your arm. Your hair’s shorter, skin a little rougher, but your eyes , those damn eyes.

He freezes.

You look up.

And your whole body stills.

"...Tommy?" your voice comes out cracked, disbelieving.

His feet move before his brain catches up. “No way. No. No, you," he stumbles, chest rising fast. "You died. I saw the house. I saw the flames,”

“I got out,” you whisper, tears immediately spilling over. “I ran. I,Tommy, I looked for you for years.”

Tommy’s hands are on your face before either of you can say anything else. "Jesus Christ," he breathes. "You’re real. You’re,"

“I’m real,” you nod, laughing through the tears. “You’re real, too.”

Later That Night – Jackson Lodge

You're sitting by the fire, wrapped in a blanket Maria brought, sipping hot tea. Tommy hasn’t left your side.

"You really thought I was dead?" you ask softly.

"I didn't just think it," Tommy says, voice tight. "I knew it. There was no way someone could’ve made it outta that mess. We lost power, the whole block was burning, your street was overrun. I... I lost it."

You stare at the fire. “I remember the screaming. The smoke. I grabbed a bag and bolted through the back window when I heard the infected. I thought I’d find you on the road.”

"I went back for you. I swear. Joel tried to stop me, but I went back. Place was gone."

“I kept hoping maybe you’d made it out. That maybe I’d see you again.” You glance at him, smiling sadly. “Guess we’re both stubborn like that.”

He chuckles dryly. “You have no idea.”

A Walk Through Jackson – The Next Day

"So… married, huh?" you ask, nodding at his wedding band.

Tommy hesitates, then nods. “Yeah. Maria. She’s good people. Smart. Brave. Keeps me grounded.”

"I figured you’d find someone," you say, forcing a smile.

He studies you. “That a problem?”

You shake your head. “No. Just… weird. We used to talk about getting a dog, a porch swing, a bunch of loud kids running around.”

Tommy sighs, shoving his hands into his coat pockets. “Yeah. We did. Life just had other plans.”

“Clearly.”

You stop walking.

“Tommy… do you ever think about what it would’ve been like if none of this happened?”

He nods. “Every damn day.”

Flashback – A Week Before the Outbreak

"You gonna marry me someday?" you ask, half-joking as the two of you lie in bed, limbs tangled.

Tommy looks down at you. "You kiddin’? I’d marry you tomorrow if I could afford a ring."

"You don’t need a ring."

"Well, I want one. You deserve more than some last-minute courthouse vows and a beer after."

You grin. "What if I like beer?"

He laughs. “Then I’ll buy you the fanciest beer in the state and make sure you’ve got that porch swing, too.”

Back in Jackson – Present Day

"Things have been… hard," Tommy says later that evening, walking you back to the guest house. “Even in this place. Even with good people. You keep surviving, but it doesn’t mean it stops hurting.”

You nod, voice quiet. “You were the only thing that kept me going some days.”

He looks at you, raw emotion swimming in his eyes. “I never stopped loving you.”

“Don’t say that,” you whisper.

“Why not? It’s true.”

“Because you’ve got a life now. A wife. A town. And I’m just… a ghost.”

He grabs your arm gently. “Don’t do that. Don’t talk like you don’t matter.”

“But I don’t belong here.”

“You belong wherever you want to be.”

Silence stretches between you. Snow begins to fall.

“Can I stay?” you ask.

His voice breaks. “Please.”

A Few Weeks Later

Life in Jackson is calm. Quiet. You help in the greenhouse. Get to know people. Share meals in the dining hall. Sometimes Maria watches you and Tommy with a distant expression, unreadable.

One evening, as you and Tommy walk past the stables, you break the silence.

“Does she know?”

Tommy nods. “She knew the second I saw you. I told her everything that night.”

“What did she say?”

He hesitates. “She said love before the world ended still matters. She said she wouldn’t stand in the way of what we were… whatever this is.”

You stop. “And what is this, Tommy?”

“I don’t know yet,” he admits. “But I know I don’t want to lose you again.”

You step closer, snow crunching beneath your boots.

“Then don’t.”

That Night – Tommy’s Porch

He brings out two mugs of hot cider, handing you one before sitting beside you.

"Think we ever get to be happy again?" you ask.

"I don’t know if it’ll look the same as before. But I think we can make somethin' new."

You glance at him, warmth flickering in your chest. “Even without the dog and porch swing?”

He smiles. “Well, we’ve got the porch. And I’m sure someone’s got a mutt around here.”

You both laugh.

Then you lean your head on his shoulder.

And for the first time in years, it doesn’t feel like the end of the world.

It feels like a beginning.

[grayandthyme]

˚ ୨୧ ⋆ ｡ ˚ thinking about lazy mornings with Tommy... poor thing never gets a day off. Sundays though? That's your day.

Fingers moved with purpose, each stroke of the pen slow and deliberate. The ink bled methodically into the crumbly white paper, curling into floral patterns—delicate bursts of peppered blue blooming at the corners.

Wedding invitations. Not for you, unfortunately.

For a couple in Jackson.

Someone whose joy you'd come to care about simply because this town had made a home in your heart. You’d do just about anything for it. Including this—drawing up invitations to tack onto bulletin boards, to slip under doors, and place into mailboxes. To make love feel a little more official.

Sundays were the quietest kind of sacred. Tommy’s only true day off—no patrol routes, no strategy sessions with Maria, no drawn-out talks about crop yields or expansion plans.

Sundays belonged to the two of you.

Usually, that meant sleeping in, tucked beneath sun-warmed knitted blankets. The world kept out by soft sheets and heavy eyelids, secret kisses and naked curled bodies.

"You’re up before me?" His voice hummed at the doorway, rough with sleep, his drawl still honey-thick. His curls were a mess, flattened on one side, the rest hanging low over freckled skin flushed from sleep.

Silly side-sleeper.

You leaned back in your chair, a soft smile, “Had to start these. Figured I’d let you sleep.”

His feet rounded the corner, the soft pats of bareness against wooden floorboards. “You tryin’ to become a Smurf or is that just a new beauty routine?”

“What?” Your hand had lifted from the paper, blue ink smearing against your palm.

He stepped deeper into the kitchen, light sprinkled in bright soft lines from the window, crossing his arms. “You’ve got blue paint on your face. Right there.” He tapped his own cheek in the mirror of yours. “Honestly, it’s a strong look. Very high fashion. Little apocalyptic war paint meets wedding planner.”

You touched your cheek, smearing the paint further. “Shit—"

Tommy just laughed, a few steps, then crouched beside you. “No, leave it. It says, ‘I’m emotionally available and artsy tortured.’ Town’ll eat it up.”

You narrowed your eyes, but the smile broke through anyway. “You know you're an ass?"

"Guilty." He leaned in closer, his face softening despite the grin. Those lovely brown eyes that don't hesitate to puppydog, even in the early mornings.

“You know you don’t have to do all this, right? People’ll still fall in love without you decoratin' their announcements.”

“Maybe,” you shrugged. “But they’ll look better doing it.”

He pressed a kiss to your cheek—paint and all—standing up with a mock salute. “Well, Picasso, while you beautify Jackson one lovebird at a time, I’m gon' go burn breakfast. You in for eggs or the mystery leftovers from last week?”

You leaned back in your chair, pen still in hand, and grinned. “Surprise me.”

He pointed a finger at you. Finger gun. “Dangerous words in this house. You may get mystery meat pancakes.”

You laughed, deep and giggly from your stomach. “Sounds like a man who wants to sleep on the couch.”

Tommy glanced over his shoulder, a mischievous spark in his eyes. “Joke’s on you, sweetheart. I like the couch. It don't steal the blanket or elbow me half to death."

Your eyes followed him as he turned back to the kitchen, the morning light catching on the curve of his shoulders. Taut back muscles shifted beneath the thin fabric of his shirt as he reached overhead, rummaging through cabinets like a man on a mission—if that mission involved mismatched cookware and half a loaf of bread.

“You call it ‘elbowing,’ I call it unconscious justice,” you murmured, smirking to yourself as you wiped a bit of dried paint from your palm.

He paused dramatically, one hand holding a skillet, “And I call it exhaustin’ but sure, let’s romanticize it.”

You snorted, leaning your chin on the back of your hand, elbows balanced on the table. “If you cook half as good as you complain, we might actually get breakfast today.”

Tommy opened the can with a flourish and peered in, eyebrows raised. “Well, well, well. Look who’s getting questionable peaches with her eggs. Nothing but the finest for my war-paint-covered lover.”

You shook your head, still smiling, letting the sound of his playful commentary fill the space between you.

Silly.

The room smelled like paper and ink, a faint trace of coffee, and the slow build of something frying in the pan.

“Hey, Tommy?” you mused, leaning further onto the table, elbow propped as you rested your chin in your palm. A soft smear of blue dragged across your cheek, unnoticed.

He looked up from the stove, spatula in hand, one brow quirking as he caught the shift in your voice. “Yeah?”

You smiled, the kind that didn’t need a reason—soft and sure.

“I love you.”

For a second, the kitchen was quiet. Just the faint sizzle of the pan and the whistle of the breeze slipping in through the cracked window.

Tommy didn’t miss a beat. “Well, damn.” He flipped the eggs with exaggerated care. “Guess I better put the peaches on the nice plate then.”

You rolled your eyes, but he turned toward you fully this time, and the usual grin he wore had softened—still crooked, still full of life.

He wiped his hands on a towel and crossed the small space between you, reaching down to run his thumb gently over the paint on your cheek, not bothering to clean it, just to touch. His hand lingered there, warm against your skin.

“I love you too,” he said, not as a joke, not as a punchline—just truth, spoken like it was written in stone. “More than I know what to do with most days.”

You tilted your head into his hand, catching the corner of his palm with a kiss. “Then let’s just start with breakfast.”

˚ ୨୧ ⋆ ｡ ˚

[offthebookshelf]

i watched this movie for the first time and it has stuck with me ever since. i decided to have a movie night and wanted to watch something inspiring. i had just ordered Beethoven’s Complete Piano Sonatas Vol. 1 by Heinrich Schenker and was filled with excitement, ready to practice Beethoven on my clanky keyboard. when i saw the title of this movie, with a cover of the actor Adrien Brody looking pleasant, peaceful, wrapped in warm lighting, i didn’t even bother to read the description and just clicked play.

oh. my. goodness. what a damn mistake that was. there i was, comfortable in bed, looking and feeling like a happy stuffed burrito, thinking i was about to enjoy a visual story about a pianist and his life. perhaps i’d see a bit of drama, some loss, some love story. but the focus would be on his passion, his talent, his devotion to his craft. how fucking wrong i was.

*SPOILERS UP AHEAD*

i was thrown right into Warsaw, 1939. the beginning was already nerve-wracking with the bombing that hits Polish State Radio station, where we meet our main protagonist, Wladyslaw Szpilman, a sensible soul with a true talent to play the piano. the Germans have begun their invasion of Poland and it isn’t long after the initial bombing at the radio station that we begin to see the monstrosities the Polish-Jewish people were about to be put through.

i’m going to be completely transparent, i purposely avoid diving too deep into this part of history. it brings me such deep pain and it’s hard for me to understand- i think any and all sane people that are in touch with their humanity- find it hard to understand how did such horrors come to take place? the pain, torture, injustice that human beings were subjected to…shit leaves me speechless.

although this movie was brilliantly filmed (i did take mental notes of the cinematography being that i am a visual artist) it made me regret my ability to submerge myself into a work of fiction and experience it as if though i was really there. this movie pulled me in from the very start and i found myself in fear, in anger, in pain, in hardship, in loss, in all of it with Szpilman.

did i already mention Adrien Brody was absolutely fantastic? i don’t know how he managed this role. i can’t even think straight at the moment, because i am still replaying certain scenes in my mind and i’m still so taken aback by the fact that this is a part of our human history, of our collective conscious. like a stain that we carry, it will never go away.

i’m aware that humanity has been a part of, the cause, and creators of a lot more dark shit, but this time in history is something beyond evil. and to think it was all less than 100 years ago…

my emotions can be easily stirred by these kinds of movies, but truly i was more in shock and locked into survival mode with Szpilman. it wasn’t until Hosenfield showed up that my emotions got the best of me. it breaks my heart that Hosenfield didn’t make it in the end, despite his act of good will.

i want to buy Szpilman’s book, i do wonder if they left out quite a bit for the film. it is 2.5hrs long, but certain parts seemed to be rushed over for the sake of timing.

i wish i could express my thoughts better, but i think the movie is still too fresh on my mind. i often try to focus on the good things, even when a situation is painful and full of injustices. my mind usually goes to “well, at least that is over, now you trust your intuition more, at least you don’t have to go back there or deal with those people/person, at least you still have your head, your heart, working hands, and a mind full of creativity, now you know better” etc. etc. it’s just how i’m wired.

but certain stories…certain knowings don’t come with a silver lining. i would say the best thing that happened is that Szpilman survived it all, and even wrote a book on bis experiences. but truly, what kind of life did he live after the war? waking up to the sound of gunshots, bombs, perhaps still experiencing the ghost of the pain of true hunger and thirst. i wonder how the real Szpilman lived his life after surviving this horrorshow…

he played his piano. he remained a kind and sensible man. he wrote a book. he lived, and he ate, and he drank, and perhaps even loved.

i still don’t know where my mind is at after learning about his story. it’s nowhere and everywhere all at once. you know what i think the saddest part is? that very same evil is still running rampant through some humans. and any second now, something of this nature and caliber can happen.

the morning after watching this film, i found myself in my kitchen, making my morning coffee per usual. i stood looking outside my window, admiring the morning sky and thinking how in that very moment, everything could change. and all my little material things i treasure, could be gone. my comfort, my zone, my little happy place- gone. and instead of facing the arduous decision of whether i want a morning cappuccino or espresso, i could be deciding whether to hide behind a pile of bricks or in a hole in the wall. or pulled out of a line to be shot in the head. or taken to a place away from everything i’ve worked so hard for, away from all i have ever known, to be tortured to death. to be used in inhumane experiments, to be violated and discarded, to be starved until i could no longer walk or talk.

i think i’ll end this here for now. i can’t say i would watch this again, i do appreciate how well they did in bringing Szpilman’s story to the big screen. but the reality of it all, it’s something that will forever feel like my breath has been kicked out of my chest.

The Pianist (2002) dir. Roman Polanski

[yoiisa]

LIKE THE STARS THAT SHINE ⋆˙⟡ NIJIRO NANASE

"And our daddies used to joke about the two of us, They never believed we'd really fall in love, And our mamas smiled and rolled their eyes, And said oh my my my." - "Mary's Song (Oh My My My)" by Taylor Swift Tags: ALL THE FLUFF IN THE WORLD IS IN THIS FIC! Childhood friends to lovers!

a/n: This is part of a little series I doing where I’m writing BLLK fics for each of my fav songs on all the T Swift albums. I did Bachira’s (Fearless), Kaiser’s (Lover), Rin’s (Midnights), Oliver's (Red), and Nagi’s (TTPD)

continuing my little eras tour series. Nanase is our little country boy, so it only made sense for me to pick a song for him from the og album by Ms. Swift! Marriage fics are my guilty pleasure so I’m soooo excited!! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

“Is my tie good?” Nanase asks, his fingers fiddling nervously with the flimsy fabric. “Is it straight?”

The other men in the room chuckle softly at his nervous demeanor, before Hiori stands and helps the younger boy. He turns Nanase to face him and his hands come up to deftly work the tie in to the right kind of knot.

“Now, now,” Hiori laughs, “if you keep messin’ with it like that, it’ll end up wrinklier than it was before!” Hiori places his hands on Nanase’s shoulders, gently squeezing. “Just relax.”

“I’m trying,” Nanase exclaims, grabbing Hiori’s wrists. “I can’t! What if I don’t look good enough to be out there? She’s gonna be all dolled up like a freshly bloomed flower and if I look a mess- oh good god.”

Rin shakes his head. “You worrying for no reason is not going to help, at all. Just put your suit and tie on and stand there. Seriously there’s not much too your outfit for you to be this-”

Isagi places a hand on Rin’s shoulder and gently tugs him back a little. “Hey, stop. He can be nervous. He’s getting married.”

Rin scoffs and rolls his eyes. Nanase smiles softly at his display, his heart warming slightly. “You’ll get it when you get married Rin.”

“More like If,” Hiori whispers and Rin shoots him a nasty glare.

“Guys please don’t fight right now,” Isagi pleads exasperatedly. His hands go up between everyone in a placating gesture. “This is a wedding.”

Nanase shakes his head and looks around. “Where’s Zantetsu?”

“He went to go get coffee. He should back soon,” Rin explains, going back to rest on a couch in the corner.

“Let’s go check on him,” Hiori says, guiding Isagi out of the room. “He’s probably having some trouble carrying all those cups!”

When the two of them leave, a heavy silence settles on top of Nanase and Rin. Rin’s reclined on the couch, a cloth on top of his eyes, blocking the sun. Nanase messes with the cuffs of his tux, before the silence is broken.

“Why’d you ask me to be here?” He asks, lifting the fabric to look up at Nanase. “I mean, it makes sense for Hiori and Isagi, but why me?”

Nanase smiles down at Rin, tilting his head confused. “Why wouldn’t I want you as my best man? Without you, well, damn! None of this would’ve even been close to a reality! The money to pay for this wedding, make my girl’s dreams come true, it all came from my soccer career after all.

“If you hadn’t been my mentor,” Rin scoffs and Nanase ignores it, a bashful look crossing his face, “I’d never survived the NEL. No one would’ve wanted a ‘bumpkin’ like me on their team. I . . . I wouldn’t have gotten my wife.”

Rin stays silent before sitting up. He watches Nanase for a few moments, a calculating expression in his eyes, before he finally says, “You would’ve gotten her anyways. The way she looks at you didn’t come just from soccer.”

“You think?”

“I know,” Rin slumps back again, exhausted from doing nothing. “You’ve known Y/N since you were like, babies, yeah? I’ve never had anyone like that.”

“I never thought I’d marry her,” Nanase laughs softly, a blush appearing on his face. “I never thought of her in any way like that until I went to Blue Lock. I missed her so much, you don’t even know! All I thought of was her smile every time I would fall asleep, and her eyes- Rin they sparkle so brightly! Puts the stars to shame, I tell ya.

Nanase sits down next to Rin. “My folks used to tease me nonstop about how pretty she was. They would tease me about my ‘girlfriend’ but she’d pretend to throw up and run away whenever it was brought up.”

Rin gives Nanase an odd look. “And you’re marrying her?”

Nanase laughs, the sound like bells. “Ain’t it funny how life works out that way?”

Rin is silent, assessing Nanase with a softer look now in his eyes. His mouth quirks up a little as he finally says, “When you talk about her, your accent starts to come back more.”

“Eh? Does it now?” Nanase asks, his eyes going wide and doe like.

Rin nods, “Yeah bumpkin. It does.”

Nanase’s face heats and his eyes sting. Rin balks when a tear runs down his face, and Nanase hurriedly wipes it away. “Sorry, sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” Rin says. After a moment of tense silence, Rin wraps his arm around Nanase’s shoulders, pulling the younger boy into a side hug. “Congratulations, Nijiro.”

Nanase laughs through his tears and nods. “Thank you, Rin.”

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

Nanase stands at the end of the aisle, his heart pounding in his chest so violently, he wasn’t entirely sure it wouldn’t just pop out at any sudden moves.

Rin, Isagi, Hiori, and Zantetsu stand off to the side, and your side is empty. Everyone has taken their seats, waiting anxiously for your bridesmaids to walk the aisle, you following closely behind.

Nanase could picture it now. You in a white dress, snowy as the fields you two used to play in as toddlers. An odd lump forms in his throat as more memories flood his mind.

The first time you held his hand as he guided the two of you home when you wandered too deep into the forest. You were four and he was five.

The first time you two had had a play date. He taught you how to play soccer in the grass of his backyard. You had green stains on your tights for months afterwards. You were six and he was seven.

The first time you’d kissed him. It’d been a dare a few months before he left for Blue Lock. Just a small peck on the cheek but he swore he could feel it there for the rest of his life, even now. He’d been 15 and you were 14.

When he’d finally seen you as an adult. A few years after everything to do with Blue Lock had ended, he came back from PXG to visit his parents, and there you were. In his living room, having tea with his folks and yours. You’d aged for sure, and turned into the prettiest little lady he’d ever seen. He was 21 and you were 20.

The first time you’d had sex, his body cuddling with yours, feeling lighter than air. His hands carded through your hair and you were kissing his lips with such shyness, he could hardly stand it. He was 23 and you were 22.

And now, here he was.

Your bridesmaids had just finished walking down the aisle, and the guests stood and turned to the doors. There you were. Soft white fabric pooled around your legs and hugged your torso. A bouquet of baby blue and lilac flowers were clutched firmly in your hands and you began to make your way to him.

Suddenly, all he could think of was every reason why he wasn’t good enough for you. However, all of those reasons swiftly flew from his head the minute you reached him. A hand came up to cup his cheek, and brushed over his skin, wiping his tears away.

When his eyes cracked open, there you were. All your beauty, for him. All for him. You were his and he was yours. Forever.

He kisses your palm, before taking your hand in his. It’s the usual affair, and he’s buzzing. By the time he’s given permission to kiss you, he can hardly contain himself. Swiftly, he wraps you in his arms and dips you, his lips connecting with yours.

This time, it’s your turn to cry.

[voxofthevoid]

For Fem GoYuu Infidelity Wednesday #7, I bring you a pair of conversations—a brief break from the avalanche of pussy, plus a peek into the relationship development that's made this fic go from a quick 'n' dirty PWP to, well, what it's become 💀

The conversations are from two different chapters. Once again, the infidelity aspect is present in these scenes, though I assume those of you who are still braving these snippets are cool with that.

“The menu’s not on my tits, you know.”

Yuuji makes a tight little noise, too throaty to convey much embarrassment. Satoru looks up from her idle perusal of the appetizers, and sure enough, Yuuji’s staring at her instead of the menu. The hunger on her face certainly suits the establishment they’re in, regardless of its actual direction.

“Careful,” Satoru murmurs, resting her chin on the back of her hand. Shockingly, that doesn’t help Yuuji tear her eyes off her tits. “If you keep looking at me like that, I might start to think I’m on the menu.”

“Yes,” Yuuji blurts out with the peculiar shamelessness of the spectacularly horny. And then her brain abandons its new lodgings in her cunt to crawl back into her skull, as evident from the bright red flush and the borderline violent way she covers her face with both hands. “Fuck. Sorry.”

“Cute,” Satoru croons, reaching over to tug at one of Yuuji’s wrists. “Don’t hide now. It’s alright, you can look all you want. I can’t scold you when you look so cute—and desperate.”

“Gojou-sensei,” Yuuji whines, despairing.

“You know,” Satoru says thoughtfully, stroking her thumb over the thick bone at Yuuji’s wrist, “you can call me Satoru when we’re like this.”

That finally gets Yuuji to drop her hands, though the one Satoru was holding somehow ends up holding her back in the process. “Really?”

“Really,” Satoru confirms. “Go on—try it out.”

“Satoru?” Yuuji tries out. “Woah, that’s weird.”

“Hmm, no, I suspect you just like calling me calling me sensei in bed. Not that it’s not sexy—”

“Sensei!” Yuuji hisses. “Satoru.”

“There we go!” Satoru leans back, letting Yuuji keep her hand. “Just remember to switch back in school.”

Yuuji nods, though Satoru wonders if she really absorbed what she heard, what with how she’s back to staring at Satoru’s tits. Satoru slots her free arm under her bust, giving it a gentle nudge upward.

Yuuji makes a needy little noise.

Satoru laughs. “You’d think you haven’t ever seen them before.”

“It’s not that,” Yuuji protests weakly. “It’s just—” She gestures at Satoru, clarifying everything and nothing. “I don’t see you like this.”

“Huh.” Satoru considers that for a moment. “Fair enough. If you like your women all dolled up, I can do this more often.”

Yuuji turns so red that Satoru half expects to see steam come out of her ears. “No, it’s—you’re perfect, you’re always perfect—ah, shit.”

“Charmer.” Satoru tugs Yuuji’s hand to her, mostly so she won’t hide her face again, and presses a kiss to those delicately trembling fingertips. “I’d enjoy it too, you know.”

“W-what?”

“Dolling up for you,” Satoru clarifies. “If you follow through on those looks of yours, it’ll be well worth it.”

Yuuji swallows thickly. “I’ll—yeah. Yeah, I’ll do that.”

“Deal,” Satoru purrs, releasing Yuuji’s hand. “Now pick some food before they kick us out.”

Yuuji stares around their private booth with a dubious expression but doesn’t contest Satoru’s claim. The doubt is warranted—it also shows that Yuuji’s quite sharp despite her evident distraction with Satoru’s assets.

Satoru’s never been to this place, but she’s booked this booth for a few hours. This is a treat, and it’s been a while since she’s had a nice, long date with a pretty girl.

Well, the truth is that Satoru started dating a specific pretty girl when she was one herself, and they grew into women together. The only real dates Satoru’s been on are with Suguru—were with Suguru. Those have always been fun, but the last one was a good year ago. Even when Suguru’s around, she’s not always in the mood to go out, and half the time, Satoru isn’t either. It’s not bad. They don’t need productions like date nights to enjoy each other’s company.

Yet, here she is, on a date with a girl who’s not her wife.

What, Yuuji asked, will you do when your wife comes home?

What indeed.

“You’re the one staring now, Satoru,” Yuuji points out, looking at Satoru from under her lashes, and Satoru is hotly reminded of that night at the bar—Yuuji calling out her straying eyes, her bleeding hypocrisy.

“Your own fault,” Satoru tells her, “for giving me something so pretty to stare at.”

Yuuji’s blush comes back full force, but she doesn’t break eye contact. “I’m just me. You’re the pretty one.”

Satoru chuckles. “You’re not that modest, Yuuji-chan. We both know what you do at those bars. That’s not the actions of a woman who doesn’t know what she has to offer.”

Yuuji shrugs. “That’s different. I just do what works.”

“And it works quite well,” Satoru says softly. “I suppose it’s already worked on me. Is that why you didn’t go for your little makeup-and-muscles routine?”

“Makeup-and-muscles routine,” Yuuji mouths to herself, looking adorably confused. Then she shakes her head. “Did you…want me to do all that?”

Does she?

“No,” Satoru says decisively. “I like you like this—just you, hm? Just my Yuuji.”

-

The rest of the evening is also a quiet affair.

They eat take-out right out of the containers, and then Yuuji does her homework on the dining table while Satoru takes a shower and goes through social media, answering or deleting the occasional message. It’s mostly irrelevant things from irrelevant people. Suguru’s always favored calling over texting, though she does religiously wish Satoru a good morning and good night every day—even if their mornings and nights differ rather drastically these days.

Satoru used to text her throughout the day. Random things—selfies that ranged from ridiculous to sexy, stray cats she saw on the street, amusing anecdotes about her day. She always found it charming the way Suguru would reply to one or two of those along with her usual good morning and good night texts.

They petered out at some point. Satoru can’t remember when or why. She also can’t remember Suguru asking.

She knows she started the hoarding those details instead, dumping them all on Suguru in one go whenever she called. Suguru couldn’t pick or choose her live reactions, though Satoru sometimes wished she would. That makes her a hypocrite, probably.

Satoru still does that. Suguru gets most of her stories.

Except Yuuji—Satoru’s dirty little secret.

She doesn’t feel dirty or little, taking up space in Satoru’s home and making it warm. And she is a secret, but she’s the sweetest one Satoru’s ever kept.

It’s past ten by the time Yuuji takes her own shower, stripping out of her uniform and later stepping into Satoru’s oversized clothes. Satoru waits for her in bed, comfortably naked. Yuuji’s eyes are sleepy as they rove over Satoru’s bare shoulders and clavicles, and when Satoru lifts the cover in silent invitation, Yuuji slides right in, tucking herself against Satoru with a tired but happy noise.

Satoru holds her close and turns off the bedside lamp.

Yuuji burrows deeper under the covers, pressing her face into Satoru’s tits. Satoru lets out an amused huff and pats her hair over the sheet, folding her other arm under her own head and closing her eyes.

Sleep laps at her eyes and her bones, not quite there yet but creeping gently closer.

Yuuji jolts against her, practically tearing free of the covers—and damn near slamming their faces together.

“Easy, tiger,” Satoru mutters thickly, leaning back a little. “What’s the matter?”

“Uh—” It’s too dark to make Yuuji’s features out clearly, but that tone is enough for Satoru to picture indecision seeping into Yuuji’s sure, strong features, leading to the kind of restless awkwardness that’s cute enough to bite. “Don’t you…want to have sex?”

Satoru blinks very slowly, wide awake all of a sudden. She didn’t see that coming.

“Do you?” she asks.

Yuuji shifts against her. Satoru’s eyes have adjusted enough to the darkness that she sees Yuuji gnaw on her bottom lip.

“I could take care of you,” Yuuji offers.

“Be still my beating heart,” Satoru says drily.

“No, sensei, I really—”

“I’m sure you can make me come even in your sleep, Yuuji,” Satoru cuts in, not unkindly. “Or mine, for that matter. But why don’t you get some rest for now?”

Yuuji’s quiet for a moment. “Are you sure? I could—”

Satoru shoves her back into her tits, which effectively smother Yuuji’s startled yelp. But when Satoru eases her grip, she stays there readily enough.

“There we go,” Satoru murmurs, carding her fingers through Yuuji’s hair. “Just sleep, sweetheart.”

The endearment slips out of her as easy as breathing, but afterward, she burns from lips to lungs.

Yuuji melts into that crossed line, buying herself in Satoru’s warmth.

Satoru can only curl around her, all of her senses narrowing to this young, hurting thing in her arms.

The gentle heat of her skin. The supple strength of her limbs. The warm breath breaking open softly against Satoru’s chest, and the powerful heart beating so close to her own. All this life, all this youth.

She wants to protect it; she wants to swallow it.

Is this how mothers feel?

This soft, covetous hunger—is this what drives those women?

No. Probably not.

This is worse.

It’s also best forgotten.

Satoru closes her eyes and sleeps.

[gloriousfckingpurpose]

been a lot of discussion lately on performer safety in the wake of a certain theme park’s opening being plagued by poor behavior towards performers, but there’s an element i believe a LOT of people are missing; it’s not just about culling negativity towards performers, it’s also about not opening those performers up to harassment too. i could use hiccup or ygor or ruffnut and tuffnut as an example, i could use peter pan or tally the elf, but i’m actually gonna ask you guys a question i don’t think a lot of people in the current sphere of theme park fandom know the answer to:

do you know why marlin wears glasses in finding nemo: the musical?

they weren’t a part of the original costume. it’s not super easy to find footage of the show that old but in the original promo images, he doesn’t have them.

(taken direct from d23’s website btw)

and it feels so integral to the character right? so important to this version of marlin? like it was there the whole time?

early on in the show’s run, there was one performer that played marlin who wore prescription glasses, and was allowed to do so on stage, cause like. you kinda need to be able to see when operating and working around puppets that weigh up to 50lb, right? and this performer got popular. like, really popular. and this was before social media started to take off the way it did in the 2010s. people started to talk about how they loved this performer with glasses. how they liked his marlin more than anyone elses. they started to ask about him, planned to go to shows they could find out he was on for, i wouldn’t be surprised if he had stalkers beyond just onstage as well. it hit a point where cms at the show were being harassed for information on when this performer was working so frequently that the only way this performer could continue to do his job safely was to have every. single. marlin. wear them. nobody could ask when the marlin with glasses was on if EVERY marlin had glasses. and i’ve realized while writing this that that extended in reverse to the rest of the cast too; there’s performers who play other roles that cannot wear their glasses while in the show and have to wear contacts.

and they were lucky that it was something as simple as glasses. what happens when a performer is distinguished by something about their appearance that cannot be changed easily? what happens when it’s a face role with a rigid “look” that doesn’t have the freedom to change elements to keep the performer safe?

i get it, you all have your favorites in roles. you have your little ways to distinguish performers in one role from another. i’d be lying if i said i didn’t have some of my own too. but especially in this day and age of online culture, no matter what your intentions are, expressing that publicly can so easily start a chain reaction that gives the people who will cause performers harm an in. it makes them feel safe in their behavior. there is no ethical way to share the nicknames you give performers, to post “i like this one best”, to break character integrity in the comments. there is no way to disclaimer that “you mean no harm” your way out of the consequences that may come from it. and if you claim to be a safe space for these performers and champion them not being harassed, you need to be able to see when your behavior can be a detriment as well.

[rinsnumber1fan]

Boderline.

"Caught between the ties of pain and rapture" - Tame Impala - Boderline.

TW: suicide mentions, angst, I wrote the original and sent it to chat gpt to correct the grammar and it fixed some sentences so don't be suprised if anything is too good.

I was working late on a mission one that required the presence of none other than the strongest sorcerer alive. The sheer number of curses involved warranted his participation; otherwise, someone of his caliber would never have joined a task so beneath him.

When I finally checked the time, the clock had already struck 11:43 PM. At this hour, I should’ve been deep in sleep, not navigating a cursed battlefield.

“Ah… just my luck,” I muttered aloud, not realizing I’d spoken until I heard a response.

“What’s wrong?” Satoru asked, stifling a yawn.

“I’m just… sleepy,” I murmured, glancing at him through half-lidded eyes.

He looked at me, and for a brief moment, his expression was unreadable confusing even. Still, he turned and began to walk, and I trailed behind him, my steps sluggish with exhaustion.

When we arrived at the train station, we were the only two present. It wasn’t supposed to feel awkward, and yet somehow, silence settled. I sat down inside the train, and as it rumbled to life and began moving, I noticed the time had just turned to midnight. With a long sigh, I surrendered to the only idea that made sense: sleep.

As soon as my eyes closed, I felt myself sink into an all-too-vivid dream. I could feel the coarse texture of someone’s clothing, the soft brush of their hair, and the warmth of arms enveloping me with unspoken tenderness. It felt real—too real.

When I awoke, I was resting against Satoru’s arm. Startled, I pulled away gently, only to be met with the brilliance of his eyes. They were impossibly blue, as though the sky had poured itself into them. They gleamed like a hidden treasure, and I found myself mesmerized, staring without even realizing I was doing it.

He was staring back.

I didn’t notice—until he leaned in. Only then did I realize how close we were, and the rush of heat to my cheeks made me quickly avert my gaze. But he reached out, tilted my chin up with two fingers, and caught my eyes again. I flushed deeper.

“What are you trying to pull?” he asked with a teasing grin.

“I-I’m sorry… your eyes, they’re just…” I trailed off, losing myself in them again.

“Beautiful?” he offered, amused.

I nodded.

He chuckled softly. “If you think they’re beautiful, then they must be. After all, beauty recognizes beauty, doesn’t it?”

It took me a second longer than it should’ve to process what he meant—but when I did, my whole face went hot.

By the time we reached Jujutsu High, it had started to rain heavily. Thunder grumbled in the distance as my mind lingered on his words. He pulled out an umbrella, but he was so tall that it barely shielded the both of us. Rain trickled down his side regardless.

“Sorry,” I muttered. “I should’ve brought my own.”

He smiled and shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. If you get drenched, I’ll just carry you home,” he joked with a light laugh.

“Well… I suppose I wouldn’t mind that.”

“Thank you,” I whispered. “And… I’m sorry.”

Those were the last words I ever said to him.

—Flashback End—

Satoru stood there in silence for a few moments. His eyes blinked once twice. Your lifeless body was on the floor, smeared in blood and self inflicted wounds.

He realized too late.

The only life worth saving had destroyed itself.

Satorus lips trembled as he glances down, breath raggedy as rain fell from the sky to the your body which was surrounded by Jujutsu Sorcerers.

She was the only one who was there for me, more than anyone else, and she took her own life in a click. Like nothing was wrong about it.

Thank you for all youve done for me.. but I'm sorry for not being able to do the same for you.

A/N: FIRST TIME WRITING ANGST 👅👅 TELL ME IF ITS CRINGEY I PROMISE I WONT CRY (*cries" PLS COMMENTTTT

[luv-nikki]

I was wondering if you could write where George and his friend group go on holiday and reader really likes him but also readers friend does too. But George likes reader and readers friends try’s GETING to him and try to do stuff but George’s eyes are only on reader and readers friends and him have really cute moments and readers friends is jealous. Ok you get me something along the lines like that and reader and him have a cute moment then realise that they feeling for each other and it’s just cute angst and fluff and also do u think u could add some smut in there thank you

Eyes on me₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

George Clarkey x reader

⊱✿⊰⊱✿⊰⊱✿⊰⊱✿⊰⊱✿⊰⊱✿⊰⊱✿⊰⊱✿⊰⊱✿⊰⊱✿⊰

It was one of those rare, golden weeks where everything was perfect—sun-kissed beaches, late-night swims, cocktails that tasted like freedom, and a massive villa split between a group of close friends and a few new faces.

George was one of them.

I’d followed his YouTube for a while, sure, but nothing prepared me for what he was like in person—funny, warm, quick-witted. And then there were his eyes. Brown and mischievous, like he knew exactly what effect he had on people.

My stomach twisted every time he smiled at me. And I hated how obvious it felt.

Even worse? My friend—let’s call her Bella—definitely noticed. She’d been flirting with him since the plane ride over. Laughing too hard at his jokes, draping herself over the sun loungers near him, playfully splashing him in the pool like we were in a romcom. And George… well, he was polite. But his eyes never lingered on her the way they did with me.

Not that Bella saw it.

The turning point came one night after dinner, when we all headed back to the villa’s massive balcony, the sky still painted in streaks of lavender and peach. Someone put on music, and everyone danced, tipsy and careless under fairy lights.

Bella grabbed George’s hand and pulled him toward the makeshift dance floor. I pretended not to notice, sipping my drink, trying not to look jealous. But out of the corner of my eye, I could see her leaning in, whispering something against his ear, her hand brushing his chest.

That’s when I left.

I ended up by the pool, feet dangling in the water, the music faint in the distance. I hated how I felt—petty, dramatic. It’s not like I had any claim on him.

“You always disappear when things get fun?”

I turned. George was behind me, hands shoved in the pockets of his linen trousers, hair a little messy from the wind.

I blinked. “Didn’t think anyone would notice.”

“I did.” He sat beside me, our shoulders almost touching. “You okay?”

I nodded, but he gave me that look—the one where he was trying to read my mind.

“You don’t have to pretend around me,” he said gently. “I’m not stupid. I know Bella’s been trying to make a move.”

I snorted before I could stop myself. “That obvious, huh?”

“Painfully.” He tilted his head. “But I’m not interested in Bella.”

My breath caught. “No?”

He turned toward me fully, and my heart thudded in my ears.

“Why would I be, when you’re right here?”

The words knocked the air out of me. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

George laughed softly, shaking his head. “You have no idea, do you? Every time you smile at me, I feel like an idiot. I’ve been trying to work up the nerve to say something for days, but you’ve been so quiet.”

“I thought you liked her,” I whispered.

“Not even close.”

He brushed a strand of hair from my face, his hand lingering a second too long.

“You’re the one I want.”

Then he kissed me.

It was soft at first—hesitant, like he wasn’t sure I’d kiss him back. But I did. God, I did. My hands tangled in his shirt, pulling him closer as weeks of built-up tension melted into that single moment.

When we finally pulled away, I rested my forehead against his, smiling like a total idiot.

“George?”

“Yeah?”

“I really like you.”

He grinned, that lazy, heart-melting grin. “Good. Because I’m absolutely crazy about you.”

We stayed by the pool for hours, wrapped up in each other, the stars above and the sound of the waves in the distance. No drama, no games. Just us.

And for once, everything felt exactly how it was meant to be.

⊱✿⊰⊱✿⊰⊱✿⊰⊱✿⊰⊱✿⊰⊱✿⊰⊱✿⊰⊱✿⊰⊱✿⊰⊱✿⊰⊱✿

Hope you enjoy pls feel free to send a request!! PLEASE I need more inspo. 🙂‍↕️