#bc they just started out and did things for the first time. its beautiful to me
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dykefengqing · 8 months ago
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ive never really gotten involved with cosplay discourse bc most of it is stupid but apparently sone people have been talking abt bought cosplays vs homemade cosplays and as a maker my head is full of thoughts. keep in mind that ive heard everything secondhand from my roommate (who also cosplays) bc i dont really use other social media (we have a joint cosplay insta i post on sometimes but they do everything else there).
ive been making my own cosplays since i was like 11 or 12, and im lucky enough to have had a mom who knows how to sew and could teach and help me those first few years. my dad is a nerd who was excited when i started cosplaying and going to cons with him and he's always has helped me with props. again, i know im lucky for this, and i had a pretty easy in to the hobby. this is all really just for context for my side here.
cosplay had a bit of a popularity boom over lockdown, because it was a way people could have fun at home, and that's great!! i love seeing people getting into things i love!! especially after being made fun of for it as a teen. but since then, ive noticed that the vast majority of new cosplayers are buying their costumes — and before i go further, i want to emphasize that i do not judge on an individual level whether or not youve made your cosplay, and nobody should. everybody's situation is different and it's important to remember the play part of cosplay. its supposed to be fun — and honestly that's really sad to me. what's even sadder is the amount of people saying things like 'everyone who makes their cosplays are rich' (i am absolutely fucking not, im currently unemployed bc im disabled) or 'if you make your cosplay youre not a cosplayer, youre a cosmaker' (this one doesnt even make sense. why are you alienating the creators of the entire hobby).
i get completely that its an intimidating thing to get into. making cosplays isnt just sewing. its also hair/wig styling, makeup artistry, foamwork, propmaking, etc... the list can really goes on bc it truly can be anything. resin casting, embroidery, beading... it all depends on what youre doing and how you want to do it. and im not saying it isnt a money- and timesink, because obviously you have to invest both of these things into it. but it doesnt have to be all fancy sewing machines and expensive fabrics!
did you know you can sometimes rent sewing machines from libraries? if theres a makerspace near you, thats a fantastic resource (they usually have things like sewing machines and 3d printers, and they usually host classes where you can learn to use their equipment)! youre even likely to find sewing machines at thrift stores! and speaking of thrift stores, bedsheets and curtains make great fabric sources, and if youre lucky you can find a piece you can alter or even just wear as part of the costume! and theres tons of tutorials and resources online for just about everything, even for specific costumes. there are also some good online fabric stores with much more variety and better prices than joanns, and you can look into if theres a place near you that sells recycled and donated remnants/unused fabrics, etc!
and like. idk. maybe thats all common knowledge among the specific group of cosplayers im talking about. theres nothing wrong with still choosing to buy a cosplay. i just ask: do you know how the people who made it are treated at the source you buy from? are they paid fairly? is it made out of cheap polyester and how comfortable is that for you?
i put — very literally, usually — blood sweat and tears into my costumes. im not saying everyone has to do this. im just. the making aspect is the heart of cosplay to me. its clearly not for everyone and thats fine. it just makes me sad to see so many people acting like its some elitist or inaccessible thing when its not
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solifloris · 13 days ago
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≡;-꒰ 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐁 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒔 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍
╰┈➤ ❝ caleb x afab!reader | 18+ only
tags : porn with plot, porn with feelings, starts out with somewhat ambiguous relationship territory, developing relationship, Talking Things Out TM (communication is key!), kissing and making out, heavy petting, dry humping, couch sex, riding, missionary, creampie, use of "pip-squeak"/"pips" "baby" "princess". lmk if i missed any tags!
wc : 8.9k ((unedited))
an : IT'S 3 DAYS LATE… PLEASE PRETEND IT'S STILL JUNE 13 YES? YES. AKJDHGLHSDF i made the last-minute decision to keep youtiful for next week (or so…) when it's less of a focus for caleb's birthday, since i did want to write a proper birthday fic this time…… but also. this outline. underwent SEVERAL changes bc i had its first outline done before the trailer release, and it ended up being quite similar to his birthday card and i had to make adjustments somehow T^T SO this is kind of,,, i guess,,, has its similarities to no-return night, but they're not related at all, so please take this separately!
i had a lot of trepidations writing this, but nevertheless i love caleb with all of my heart and soul and he's really really so very precious to me. i hope that you can feel that through this little fic too, it's a happy birthday week to the both of us. <3 (p.s. i love this song dearly, and ever since i heard it back in january i've wanted to write a fic with it for caleb! so this was also my excuse <3 go give olivia marsh some love <3)
taglist : under the cut! (SIGN UP HERE)
ko-fi jar / commissions
What does it take to spell out eternity? Every summer you'd fall together, and maybe that was all it was—just you, and him, and the words you'd let your bodies speak instead. So tonight, in the summer heat of early June, words turned to touch; grief to grace; time-lost notes proceeded rewritten. And maybe, then, forever felt a little bit more achievable than you'd thought.
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The air was thick with the scent of June.
Even the bustling streets of Linkon couldn't distract you from it—around you stood patches of freshly-mowed grass, trees standing tall along sidewalks. This month, spring would fold itself into summer. And the warm breeze that passed—curled itself through the branches, tugged playfully at loose strands of your hair—felt proof of it.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Casual footsteps.
Heels on the pavement, arms swinging at your side—you walked, and you could fall into sync with the person beside you in a heartbeat.
A familiar rhythm.
It settled between you, a quiet moment amidst the small crowd surrounding. Something like an old melody; one you'd already engraved into your heart for years back.
And above you, the sky seemed to smear with orange and rose—purples, and pinks, and tangerines… The sun began to set beneath the horizon, rosy-golden hue overcast around the street you walked.
Immediately you were drawn back to look at him.
That everlasting melody that your heart murmured.
You caught the light as it reflected briefly in his eyes, the saturated speckles of sunlight dabbling in his hair. He was looking ahead, still, but those colors—in his eyes, they swirled like the sunset itself, that same warm glow. Looking at him like this, you'd think to yourself, that often the sky would come alive in them.
The sky could come alive in him.
That maybe he had become the sky itself.
Those very same colors that painted the evening would spill from his gaze, and the more you looked at him, the more you thought that you could drown—they just held so much.
So much that still, even now, you couldn't quite reach it at all.
Just like the faint sunlight slipping away at sundown; something beautiful left just out of grasp.
Lingering.
And even though you walked beside him now, you could remember that it hadn't always been that way. Now, Caleb was a lot taller. His broad shoulders cast a long shadow across the sidewalk, and you—
You remembered.
For years you'd walked behind him, head tilted up, following his lead. Watching, as he moved through the world with a quiet confidence that you'd once lacked the ability to mirror at all.
Now, the roles felt different.
You felt different, and he felt different.
And you could feel, even in this moment, beside him, the weight of this space that existed between you.
You didn't like that space.
Your fingers curled instinctively around the hem of his shirt.
No, you wanted him…
Closer.
You tugged, and he looked at you.
Eyes softened, lips curled slightly upwards.
Caleb let out an easy chuckle. "It's nice, huh?" he hummed. Whether or not he'd truly noticed the meaning behind your gesture remained unaddressed in the air around you, but you were sure he noticed. He always did. He was likely just choosing not to speak of it. "Walkin' around Linkon like this… It's like it's been forever since we've last done it. But it almost feels like nothin's changed."
Like nothing's changed.
You could feel the wry smile forming on your lips, an almost bitter laugh bubbling at your throat.
How ironic.
Certainly, both of you felt that things had changed—
Didn't you?
"You can't be serious," you huffed. "I mean, that— that movie theater we used to go to isn't even there anymore. The older one, that refused to jump on the OTTO bot train when everyone else did?"
"Oh? Yeah? Well, we haven't visited it in forever, either, y'know. Guess we couldn't have known how long it's been outta business."
"And! And, the one bakery down the block! That one's changed, too. Owner's different, and everything. And they sell, like, gluten-free donuts and more boring things now…"
He raised a brow, "What, no more of those chocolate croissants you liked so much?"
"They're different now! Changed recipe and all, you know? Changed the baker, too, probably… They never taste the same as the last time I had them… with you."
Caleb's laughter came out light and easy, and for a moment, the gap between you felt smaller.
Progress was progress.
Oftentimes spending time with him felt like a ticking time bomb; you'd never know when it would end all of a sudden, nor could you guess when he'd suddenly pull away again. Today—tonight—it was one of the very first times that hadn't happened just yet.
There had been small steps.
More of them.
The gap between you didn't feel so big anymore.
And almost as if in an attempt to finally bridge it, you continued—“Oh! And the playground? The old swings are completely gone. Replaced with those weird plastic dome things that look like modern art sculptures.”
“You mean the new climbing domes, right? They've been poppin' up in a lot of playgrounds recently. I'll say… They are a bit… odd-lookin'…”
"Exactly, right?!" You huffed, rolling your eyes. "The swings looked better. Friendlier, too! Now the playground looks all bland and devoid of life that those plastic things try to fill in with colors…"
"Aw, the kids don't like 'em? They're good for climbin'!"
"Some do… If they're like you, I guess…"
Your voice softened when you looked at him.
"…And the tree," you murmured. "The one in our backyard. You know, back… home. It would've been blooming with lots of fruit by now, if…"
Your gaze moved down.
If it were still around.
Your voice faltered, and you trailed off—the words remained hanging in the air; instead of catching them, you could only let them go in a quiet, almost embarrassed motion.
Too soon.
You didn't need to bring that up.
With a light smile, you cleared your throat, and slipped your hand out away from where you had been clinging to his sleeve.
"But, uhm… sure. Nothing's changed."
Some attempt at damage control.
You couldn't dare look up at him now, and the silence that settled now felt heavier—at least, to you.
You'd gone just another step backward.
Your hands settled in front of you, playing instead with the ribbon on your dress. It was different, from clutching at his sleeve. Already a thing you'd gotten used to, even though you'd been walking without it just a couple of minutes prior. Certainly a thing you had gotten used to, in easier years where you were always with him.
So, so many things you would get used to around him.
And now that split-second letting go of his sleeve had you trying to pretend that nothing was wrong, but how could you ever dream of hiding anything from him?
Even without a glance, you felt the pace of his footsteps beside you change slightly.
A shift, and then—
"Hey."
A gentle nudge.
He bumped your shoulder with his, like a little poke as if to get you back onto your feet. When you gathered enough courage even just to peek back at him, the warmth in his gaze seemed to curl around you like the summer breeze that sifted over you.
"'m glad you spent the day with me, pips," he said, soft and sincere. "It means a lot, y'know? Spendin' my birthday with you again."
"…Well, yeah. Again, right?"
You did gather the courage to turn.
In that moment a car passed on the other side of the street, headlights catching in the sheen of the sidewalk. A sprinkler ticked to life somewhere in the next yard over—closer, now, to the residential areas than the busier life of the heart of Linkon. Here, right now, everything smelled faintly of earth, and evening grass. There was that breeze again; picking up with a carried scent of wood.
Like a normal day.
Like an everyday sort of day.
Perhaps to anyone else, it was a day that meant very little.
Not to you.
Not to him, either.
"It's… well, not the first time. We always spend today together." You kicked at a pebble with the toe of your shoe, watching as it skittered on ahead of you.
"No," he chuckled. "It's not."
"But it feels like it."
Your voice went quieter.
A couple of steps before you paused.
He'd moved a little on ahead—caught on to the way you'd stopped walking, and turned around.
Another car.
This time it passed over on your side of the street, and— you remembered looking at him like this once, on that day.
That day.
With the unset glow; darker this time, instead illuminated extra by the headlights of the car that seemed to paint him in a cooler, more silvery glow.
You were used to seeing him in warmer colors. The sun had that very effect; oranges and reds and occasionally saturated pinks. But now he was dressed in blue—the type to wear cooler greys as to warmer browns, platinum whites to beige and cream. Sometimes his voice felt colder; sometimes that uniform on his person drowned his light into a liquid pearl you weren't used to.
The sun was also a star—but the sun was not quite the moon.
And like daytime settling into night, things could change.
You were reminded.
Things have changed.
Caleb looked at you in that moment. Falling silent, still; choosing to let your words pass.
"…It feels like it," you murmured again, quieter this time. "The first time."
Again, but the first time.
Like a culmination of years of knowing each other, and then… months of not quite.
All day, you'd moved together; two people remembering how to be near one another. Slowly, carefully. Down the street, places you used to visit, things you used to see. Laughter that felt a little bit out of practice. Laughter that had slowly begun to blend from forced, back to natural.
Things have changed, and perhaps that was the very reason you needed to relearn it.
Study the moon.
Fall into its orbit.
Again, and again, and again. As many times as it would take you.
“…I had fun,” he said after a pause, quiet and earnest. His voice was gentle, eyes melted softly.
Those strange, sunset-colored eyes of his—they caught the last of the sunlight; reminded you, achingly, of a version of him that you used to know better. But, this Caleb—dressed up in blue, standing right in front of you, one pace away out of this stupid respect for your supposed personal space—
He was still someone you wanted to learn, too.
You smiled. “Yeah. Me too.”
Above you, a streetlight buzzed quietly to life. It was back, again. Albeit artificial, there was that amber glow now on the pavement—on you—on him.
And then he tapped your forehead, took a step closer, and nudged his head in the direction beside you.
"Pip-squeak," he grinned, "look. Your gluten-free donut bakery."
Your head turned.
It was true—you hadn't realized it, but you'd stopped right in front of the bakery in question. It sat quietly on the corner, windows warm with light…
You realized, then, that though you passed this place all the time still, you'd never quite… visited. Less, since he'd started going to Skyhaven, and definitely not since what had happened at Bloomshore District.
So how long had it been, really?
You were right to think that it had changed.
The awning had gone from striped red to a soft sage green; handwritten signs replaced by sleek, branded typography.
But the bones of it were still there.
The door was still painted that dusty white; those little flowerpots still hung under the front windows.
And then, taped to the glass, was a poster—Typed out in playful print, with a little cartoon apple pie in the corner.
Apple Crumble Brioche. This weekend only!
Your eyes caught on it without realizing.
They had one on display—it was smaller, now, and not quite the kind you used to eat during summer break.
But the word apple lingered in your head like a ghost.
That was Caleb's favorite…
You heard a laugh beside you.
"Maann," he hummed, dragging the word out, "I haven't had any of their pastries in so long."
A smile tugged at your lips.
"Not that you're missing much," you rolled your eyes.
But already your smile was widening.
"M'kay, but it's still my birthday. So aren't I supposed to be spoiled a little?"
"You wouldn't be spoiled by anything from this bakery now…"
"Nuh-uh. Would be, 'cause you're right here with me, pip-squeak."
You laughed, then. Shoved his shoulder in a playful manner, before going ahead and pushing at the door. "So Colonel Caleb can be a baby, after all!"
The door gave way with a soft ring.
It quieted the banner, despite the playful looks you'd shown each other.
The bell above still had the same tinkling chime you used to know—impressive, after all these years.
And there it was again. That warmth. Fresh bread, cinnamon, sugar melting into butter... Even now it smelled like a memory that hadn’t quite forgotten you yet.
Like stepping into a well-loved painting; a well-loved book.
Something to welcome you home.
Behind the counter stood someone you didn’t recognize—young, cheerful, and definitely not the older woman with the cloud of white hair who used to sneak you extra apple pockets on rainy days. But the smile they gave was kind.
“Evening!” They said. “Let me know if you need anything!”
Everything looked cleaner now. Neater.
Even as you moved towards the counter, you took in the sight of the more professionally decorated display—elaborate presentations of cakes, and pastries, and desserts…
Behind you, you felt Caleb moving around to take in everything that he could, too.
The shelves in the back had packed croissants, cardamom buns, muffins.
You knew that despite your mourning for the more homely bakery you were used to, in the end it was still a bakery of good standard.
It still smelled a little bit like home.
With a warmth curling in your heart, you smiled at the cashier. "Two apple brioches, please," you gestured, before taking out your walled to fish for a bill.
Behind you, Caleb had paused—something on the side wall caught his eye—a corkboard tucked between the napkin station and the drink menu. A little handwritten sign above it read: Take a leaf, leave a leaf.
Papers in the shape of different colored leaves rested in a tray below, colored pens lined neatly in a box. The board itself was dotted with pinned-up notes: doodles, quotes, confessions half-lost to time.
And while you counted the change, he'd stepped over, pulled a leaf from the tray.
Quick scribbles.
When you'd turned, then, he was just straightening and pinning the note to the board with a casual flick of his hand.
You raised an eyebrow—show off.
“What was that?” You stepped closer to peer at his note, but he held his arm out and steered you out the door. "Hey!"
"Shhhh, that was my birthday wish."
"But a wish is made with candles. You made a wish today! And anyway, you're not supposed to write those down—"
With a grin, he flicked your forehead. "Eeexactly. No peekin', pips."
Perhaps he knew how to silence you.
In the next moment his hand reached down to find yours, gave it a little squeeze—
"Let's go home, pip-squeak."
You thought to yourself that you hadn't quite held him like this, not for a long, long while.
When you stepped back out onto the street, the bakery door tingled shut behind the both of you. Now, even standing out under the awning, you could see that the sky had darkened while you'd been inside. The sun was well below the horizon—dusk had given way to the evening, and in the distance, if you squinted, low clouds seemed to roll in slowly.
"Oh…" you murmured. "Do you think it's going to rain? I don't think I brought an umbrella with me…" You shifted around and rummaged through your bag, only to no avail.
The first drops hit before you'd gotten a reply.
Soft, still. Cautious, almost—as if testing the ground.
And as you peeked out from under the awning, little, sporadic drops fell on your head, dotting your hair with light greetings.
Beside you, Caleb shrugged. "We're not too far. It's probably just a drizzle."
"Guess the birthday boy gets a little bit of rain," you laughed then.
You took the pastries back from him and stuffed the little brown paper bag into your own bag—for safekeeping.
And you could pretend the drizzles weren't there.
Could still walk ahead, a few steps, cross over to the next block as the pedestrian signal turned green.
…But then the drizzle turned bolder.
A sudden scatter of drops soaked into your dress, and you let out a gasp.
"Oh, no…!"
The sky gave in completely.
Thick, heavy rain fell in sheets the next second. Testing period was over—the sky doused the pavement, and you were soaking almost immediately.
Hair, clothes—quickly they began to stick to your skin, both his and yours, and—God forbid—Caleb laughed.
"Caleb! Don't—ugh, come on! We've got to get—"
Despite your obvious indignation, he only reached over to grip your hand in his.
One more time, he seemed to say.
He had that knowing little look on his face, one that slowly, slowly turned into one with mischief and pure joy.
"Race you!"
With an aghast cry of disbelief, you allowed yourself to be dragged along with him—race, he said, yet here he was gripping your hand like a promise not to let go this time.
And you could only laugh.
He always knew how to make you laugh.
"Hey! Caleb, you dummy!"
You would shout through the rain, wet droplets splashing on at the two of you. Caleb was fast, and you were more of stumbling alongthan running. Water, puddles, flared up in arcs from your feet. It soaked through the fabric of your skirt, your socks, your collar—but you thought, nonetheless, that it felt so suddenly free.
You couldn’t remember the last time you'd run like this.
Carelessly.
Breathlessly.
Like it didn’t even matter that the two of you were drenched by now.
Caleb knew how to make you laugh.
Caleb knew how to make you feel at ease.
It was his birthday, and yet, he would still be like this with you.
Shoes slapped against wet pavement, rain streaked down your faces as you rounded the block and skidded into the shade of your apartment complex.
"S- seriously!" You half-laughed, half-panted, resting your hands on your knees as you caught your breath.
You offered a playful glare, "Warn me next time you take me for a ride, captain, geez!"
He ducked under with you, water dripping from the tip of his nose.
And all around you, the rain never seemed once to let up. It only got louder, enough to almost drown out your laughs at the sheer ridiculousness of it—
It settled again, and that giddiness bubbled.
"Ugh, just— You…!" You hunched over with laughter this time, only managing to straighten just to wring out your hair. "It's like you even remember the way here better than I do!"
"Pshhh. What do you take me for, pips? 'Course I'll remember!"
He shook his hair, grinning at the incredulous squeal you'd let out at the droplets that went flicking around from him.
Wet dog, you stuck out your tongue at him.
But he followed your actions after another grin—wringing out bits of his blazer, his tie; untucked his shirt just to do the same.
And then he chuckled.
"Well, it's where you are, so I'll never forget. Even through all that downpour… I'll always know the way home, pip-squeak."
The way he said it felt warm despite the cold beginning to seep through your clothes. But, as if afraid it might once again bring you a step away from him like you had been—you didn't address it.
Instead, you responded with a playful scoff.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Colonel."
With a wave of your hand, you walked rain-soaked steps up to your door, eagerly pushing your thumb to the fingerprint system in way of getting out of your wet clothes and hopefully into much drier ones.
Indeed when the door clicked open, Caleb shouldered it wider, allowing you to step inside first. “Geez,” he muttered, still scrubbing a hand through his wet hair. “I can feel my socks squish.”
You rolled your eyes, "Yeah, and you're the one who decided to drag us through the downpour. Which, happy birthday, by the way."
“Aaand, I regret nothing! 'cept maybe not waterproofing my shoes well enough. But that's another conversation.”
He moved to toe them off to the side, and you hovered by the light switch.
Ah, well, this you'd forgotten.
A second of hesitation.
You took a deep breath, and then—with fingers still a little wet against the plastic panel—you clicked it on.
Warm light spilled into the room.
Not just your living room lights, but soft string lights blinked to life. As the area lit up bathed in that amber light, it revealed strings of lights draped across windows and walls, something like lazy stars, gentle and gold, dancing almost delicately along the blankets stacked on the couch.
Balloons floated near the ceiling. Some were clustered in little groups around the corners of the room; blue, and orange, and red, and purple—Sunny Apple balloons, Sunny Apple plushies, even little Sunny Apple paper cutouts were there, too. The cutouts hung like ornaments—hand drawn, made with care… allowed a little glimpse into the innocence of childhood that you'd both spent together, all these years.
Caleb had stopped.
He'd paused, halfway through peeling off his blazer, jaw going slack. "What…"
A hint of red crept up your cheeks.
With a clear of your throat you padded barefoot across the floor, not even caring anymore as the rain still dripped from the ends of your hair. You could still feel the dress fabric clinging to your skin… but now, you couldn't care less. You barely even felt the cold anymore. Instead, your heart was beating far too loudly in your chest, and you crouched beside the couch, and—
There it was.
The real present.
A small, pearly-white box tucked carefully in the corner, wrapped up in a purple ribbon.
The color of his eyes.
"I… I know," you began, picking up the box and standing still. You couldn't dare back look at him—not now, not just yet. "I know I spent the day with you already… And, I know, that maybe I—I made it seem like that was the present."
Silence.
Not even a shuffle.
When you did turn, Caleb hadn't moved at all. Instead his eyes were fixed on you, watching you carefully, a waver of emotion in those sunset eyes of his that you found that you didn't know how to read.
Slowly you walked the few paces back to him, holding the box between your hands. "It's… I mean, that's not enough of a present. Neither is this, really. But… I wanted to give you something, even if it's small, and nothing compared to… uh…"
A wry smile; you swallowed.
The irony of being nervous in front of someone you'd known for more than half your life.
“You’ve… You've always taken care of me, Caleb. Even when you didn’t have to. Even now, after all this time. Even… Even in spite of everything. You've always been here. And you've said that you don't know, anymore, how to to take care of me like you used to, but you… You still do. You still try.”
The words trembled slightly as you spoke. And then you placed the box in his hands.
"…There's still so much you don't tell me," you said quietly, your expression softening. You watched as Caleb looked down, silently slipping the ribbon loose. "I don't know much about your missions, or the things that you have to do… Or what it's really like, out there in deepspace; even what it's really like when you fly."
The lid came off.
Inside, nestled in dark velvet, was a compass. Its face gleamed slightly in the light—simple, elegant, its needle already settling.
Caleb didn’t speak right away.
Instead he stared; a few beats. A couple moments with his gaze studying the eight-point star, before flitting back up to you.
You couldn't read him.
Even now, you thought, there was just so much you didn't know about him anymore, either.
Yet…
“…You always said I knew the way,” he murmured.
And you nodded, almost too afraid to speak in return.
He traced the needles with his thumb, carefully, gently.
"When we were kids, you… You always said you'd thought I was invincible. I had you relyin' on me the whole way, trailin' after me with those stars in your eyes. So, I'd lead the way when I could. As much as I could. I didn't… ever want those stars to go away."
The compass settled down as he reached over to rest it on a little table.
"You don't do that anymore, pips," he said softly.
And you stayed silent, allowed yourself to be gently drawn into him. Again, like always. Again, like he'd make you do.
In the back of your mind, you'd think that Caleb didn't even need his Evol, not when he was with you.
"Now you're this—this diligent, hard-workin' Hunter, best rookie Hunter of the year, and all those fancy achievements... Even made it into UNICORNS, yeah? I couldn't be more proud of you. Just…"
He rest his hands on your waist, pulled you closer just to rest his forehead against yours.
"You're right," he whispered. "Things're different now. All these things keep pullin' us further and further apart… It's like today's the only day we got to be like this. Where things felt like they used to. So when did heaven, and earth start… feelin' so far? When did you become someone I don't have to take care of anymore? When did you become someone I had to let go?"
The weight of his words settled.
In the end, he'd been feeling the same things you did.
"'m not as invincible as you think I am. I can't even accept that you don't look at me like you used to… Isn't that pathetic? Those stars in your eyes were ones I couldn't protect, and I keep messin' up, havin' to—to try to make things right again. But… how am I supposed to do that? I don't know a lot of things either, pip-squeak… All I want is to be by your side."
"Caleb…"
"Only reason I don't drift off into space is 'cause the only home I have's with you. Only reason I come back is 'cause I know you're waitin' for me back on the ground."
Your eyes closed.
Well, through the downpour and morning dew… you're the one I don't want to lose.
"…I'm still here, Caleb…" you murmured. "I'm not going to go flying off without you. I don't want to."
It wasn't even that the hug was particularly comfortable.
Wet fabric against wet skin—he felt cold. Cold, and wet, and—you could pull away.
But he rest his chin on the top of your head, and it was the warmest that you'd ever been.
"You're my home, too, you know." You nuzzled against him, smiled softly even though he wouldn't see it. "So this compass… was me hoping that I'd be yours. If navigation knows only forward motion…"
"…When I'm by you side, I just want to stay still."
You laughed, muffled against his chest. "Yeah. One of your silly quotes."
"Well… When you think about it, you're the only compass I'd ever need anyway, guidin' me back home the way you do." He smiled into your hair—you felt it—before he pulled back a little.
Looked at you properly.
Sunset eyes locked onto your own.
And slowly he reached—brought the necklace back up between your lips, leaned in to share a chaste kiss.
"Maybe this is just a promise," he murmured. "You ground me, pip-squeak. And fate has always guided me back to you… So maybe, yours is the gravity I can never resist. One that I never even plan to."
"My sun?" you laughed softly, "pulled into my orbit?"
"Mm, welll, I think I've only ever reflected the light you shine. Soooo maybe you're the sun. Or the earth. My world, isn't it? That'll fit, too."
"…You're silly."
"Heh. Don't like it?"
"Mn, I've never not liked it."
The necklace fell as you giggled, and your lips brushed together gently.
"You know… I don't know if I can believe in forever," he said, then. "But… Just this moment, here, with you… I want to believe in an eternity with you."
"So let's call it." Your eyelashes fluttered against his. "From this day onward… Caleb, you are my eternity."
And this time, this promise was sealed with a kiss.
Warm.
Steady.
So achingly gentle, it made your breath catch.
And it was a kiss that cradled the very weight of everything you'd shared before this, and everything else that you hadn't dared to speak out loud until this moment. It was a kiss that spoke for you. A kiss that said—thank you. I promise that, too.
So you kissed him back, leaned into him. You felt the way your breath trembled as you did—your hands rose, shaking, pressing lightly into his chest. And it was like breaking the surface, after holding your breath for all these years.
Your fingers fisted, curled, into the fabric of his shirt. Your own anchor. Something to steady you, keep you grounded, remind you no less that despite the weightlessness of this moment, it was still real.
The room faded.
The lights, the windows, the rain…
In this moment, it was just you, and him, and a shared sense of a promised beginning.
When he pulled back, his hands still remained curled at your waist. You noticed the flush on his cheeks, the way his eyes had gone all lidded—glassy, a little bit dazed. And despite the soft, breathless laugh that spilled from your lips, you didn't want to pull away.
You didn't even dare to.
Instead your gaze flitted back down to his lips, watched as the corner of his mouth twitched into a little hint of a smirk.
Caleb tilted his head.
Testing.
And his nose brushed once again against yours, and—
"Mmph—!"
He swallowed your gasp with yet another kiss; this time not as soft, not as sweet.
Hungry.
As if that moment had given him all he'd needed to let loose.
Despite your widened eyes, you willed yourself to breathe, melting like putty immediately in his arms. They'd flutter closed as he pulled you tighter, closer. And your hands slid up his chest, over the soaked fabric of his shirt, clutched at the fabric for yet another reminder of the reality of what was happening.
It was wet, and messy.
Open-mouthed, breathless—you made a noise at the back of your throat, something like a whimper, something like relief, something like—yes, this. More of this.
You felt your heart pounding in your chest.
What had started with a simple kiss had escalated into the intensity he'd pour into you—an intensity you reciprocated; an intensity you dared give back to him, so much so that you couldn't ever think to protest when his hand came up to cup your jaw.
His lips moved fiercely; he continued to press into you.
One step back.
Then another.
Not away from each other, but—towards.
And as the kiss deepened, the backs of your knees hit the couch. It was the only thing that could have made you part—you both toppled over in a tangle of limbs and damp clothing, couch cushions giving beneath you. He landed beneath you—blinking up with a startled look that shone through despite the redness that had reached his cheeks, a little huff of laughter falling at your own lips.
"Geez…" you breathed, one palm flat again on his chest, the other bracing yourself beside his head. “That was graceful.”
Not necessarily addressing the kiss; not necessarily rejecting it.
Instead, you watched as his hands slid along your hips, that smirk of his returning to his features. "Fate ordained it," he hummed. "But I feel like I want to be the greedy birthday celebrant that I am this time."
"Good."
You leaned back down, took a moment to caress his cheek. "You should be greedier with me, Caleb."
His lips against yours were searing.
That hunger was still there.
Fast, and deep, and passionate…
It turned heedy. Open mouths crashing together, again and again.
Soft groans built between sharp breaths and wet noises; there was no need for air, not when you could breathe him instead.
And instinctively, needy—your hips shifted, the gasp between you swallowed into another kiss.
Caleb's hold on your waist tightened. Not to stop you, but to guide.
And that was all the mutual invitation that both of you needed.
Slowly, teasingly, rocking still—you felt him hardening beneath you, felt your own body pulsing in response. You felt a tingle down at your core, already sensitive from the friction of your wet clothes and all this pent-up tension between you. The fabric felt hot, and soaked, and maddening—and even pulling away from him just to breathe took all your effort, and even then you couldn't stop.
“Shit,” he muttered, voice rough and buried against your shoulder. “You can’t move like that and expect me to stay sane, pip-squeak...”
“Oh?” You deliberately moved, eyebrow raised, letting the friction drag right across your clit through the thin, soaked fabric of your panties. A smirk was laced in your voice. “But I thought you liked this?"
His only answer was a strangled sound—half laugh, half moan.
And then he bucked up into you.
Retaliation, perhaps.
Your head tipped back at the sensation, hips meeting his in a frantic rhythm that neither of you were controlling anymore. Your breath hitched each time the ridge of his cock rubbed against you, perfectly caught between the angle of his body and the damp cling of your panties—It was raw.
Desperate.
Each roll of your hips sparked heat in your belly that coiled tighter, and tighter, and tighter, and tighter…
“P-pip-squeak,” he groaned, breath catching against your neck. "You’re damn wet, h-holy...”
You rest your forehead against his, breath coming out in tiny puffs from exertion. "…So are you," you laughed. "We were… ah… We were out in the rai—nnh…"
“Not what I meant.”
Immediately your rhythm grew frantic. Slow grinding turned into more abrupt, hard rolls, the shape of his cock slotting nicely between the outline of your cunt. Your thighs tightened around his waist; his hands slid eagerly down to cup your ass and press you closer.
Caleb had never held you like this becore.
But even now, you looked at him—violet-orange eyes turned a darker twilight from sundown… and he had so much desire in him that you could simply melt.
Sparks shot up through your spine.
Your moans grew louder; swallowed either by his mouth that demanded more, or left completely to echo in your room as you arched your back.
"God, you're so fucking hot, pips," he murmured. This was a lower tone you were far less used to hearing, but it wasn't condescending. It wasn't cold.
It was hot, and searing, and you could only let out a groan of your own.
And eventually your soaked dress became far too much—
You sat up slightly, panting, straddling him still with your own flushed cheeks and unsteady hands.
You lifted your hips—started with the hem of your dress, slowly peeled it upwards.
And then off.
Immediately, Caleb's hands followed.
In heated silence his gaze trained over your body, thumbs brushing reverently along the skin as your dress was thrown haphazardly somewhere in the room. In the next second your bra unclasped, and your panties kicked off, both to join your dress without any more care for being organized.
Because none of that mattered.
Not at all mattered.
What mattered, now, was what was in front of you— all manner of love, and desire, and reverence, all in one gaze. All in the way he would linger, taking in every inch of you with a sweep of his eyes.
All in the way he would speak. Barely a whisper.
But still, enough to make you clench almost pathetically over nothing.
"I wish you could see yourself the way I do right now,” he murmured. “You’re… stunning.”
You felt your heart skip a beat—a couple, before accelerating, bringing an undeniable heat rushing all throughout your body in that moment.
"Then… let me see you, too."
You tugged at his wet shirt, nails scraping lightly at his chest. The motion had him groaning, bucking his hips—his cock strained hard through his pants, grinding against the damp press of your now-bare pussy. The friction of his clothing hitting directly on your folds and had your thighs shaking, Caleb's hands moving up and down over them, eyes now glued to your breasts that hung right in front of him.
It was a reverent sort of scramble.
A struggle to stop, if only for a moment, just to bare your bodies to one another, just to finally, finally be free and vulnerable and real.
Wet fabric slapped to the floor.
No more barriers.
Full of desire.
You pushed him back against the couch cushions, climbed into his lap with slow, sure movements. Immediately your pussy slid over the heavy bulge of his cock, bare, and raw, and skin-to-skin, a place where it belonged and simply felt oh-so-fucking-good.
You gripped his jaw, kissed him hard, and then began to grind—slow, and hard, and so sweetly filthy.
But never as delicious as the sound of his own moans.
"Ah-shit—ah! Y-you're killin' me, baby—"
The new nickname had you jolting.
And he would pull you back down into another kiss—he rocked back against you, groaned into your mouth, hands rubbing over from your ass, to your hips, to the sides of your chests, and back down again—
So delicious.
Your clit caught every motion. The air was thick with the sound of wet skin, of uneven breathing, of whimpers and his whispered curses. His cock throbbed desperately, trapped against your heat, teased by the plush drag of your weeping cunt.
It wasn't enough.
“Fuck,” he hissed. “M'gonna lose it like this, you're so damn perfect…"
You shook your head. "No… Not yet," you panted. You leaned in, teeth teeth grazing that tender spot just below his ear. “I want you inside.”
He didn't speak, then.
Just a flash of something darker in his eyes, and then he lifted you slightly—
Flushed and heavy, your eyes were drawn to his length, watching with a wildly beating heart as he guided you over the head of it.
No rush.
Just the tip, first.
You couldn't resist swirling your hips a little, easing the red tip right into your hole—
"Fuckkkk, yes— Take it deeper, baby…"
Your eyes shot up to meet Caleb's, your own lips parted in disbelief.
His moans were so fucking pretty.
You didn't want to wait any more, either.
The stretch made you moan.
Slowly you sank down, pussy fluttering as you took him inch, by inch, every vein and every ridge burning itself into your memory. Your thighs trembled against his hips—he buried his face into your shoulder, breathing hotly against your skin, fingers grapsing at your ass as he fought to stay still.
"Mmnh… Caleb…" you moaned. Your hands gripped his shoulders then, nails practically digging in enough to earn a moan of his own.
He was just so big.
The fullness of him made your hips stutter. Your eyes rolled back into your head.
“Shit, shit,” you grit your teeth. “You’re… fuck, you’re stretching me so much—”
“I know, pips,” he breathed, shaky. “And you’re doin so, so good. You feel—fuck, you feel like heaven.”
He was throbbing inside you, pulsing against your most sensitive places. You felt every twitch. Every heartbeat.
And then your hips met.
You were shaking—he was all the way in.
Your hands trembled, chest rising and falling in strained breath, trying to adjust to his fill.
It burned, but it felt heavenly.
He was right.
“You okay?” he murmured, brushing his lips against your cheek, your temple, your jaw.
You nodded, swallowed hard. “I just… didn’t know I could feel this full,” you laughed, a little breathlessly. “It’s a lot.”
"But not too much, right, princess? I mean, look at you, so full of me…"
A lazy grin formed on his face, then.
He'd nudged you a little, all so his eyes could rake over you seated over his cock like this. A low whistle escaped from his lips, and his hand snaked over to rest on your stomach. "So, so full of me."
He leaned back up for a moment—
"Move for me, baby."
And it was as if you'd been waiting for such a command.
So you did as he'd asked.
A gentle roll of your hips, first.
"Fuck—! Ngh—!"
The first movement had him falling back to the cushions, giving you more of that delicious delicious moan, and your breath hitched.
There was a light whimper on your lips; the stretch of him still sent aftershocks down your spine, every inch of him rubbing places inside you that made your toes curl—
But you needed more. You really, really needed more.
Again.
And again.
And—
You rocked against him in a slow, tender rhythm; every downward push a sigh, every lift of your hips a gasp. His hands moved to your waist again, holding you steady, guiding you…
And he wouldn't look away from you.
Dizzy eyes, brows furrowed in pleasure—his hair, wet from the rain and from sweat, stuck to his hair, and the way he gazed at you was so lustful and so loving all at once that the coil in your stomach stirred.
"So fuckin' pretty," he drawled, soothingly rubbing into your waist. "Look at you go, pips… Takin' my cock so damn well…"
The slick sound of your bodies filled the space between you. Your arousal coated his length, clenching with every curse that spilled from his lips. You moaned, helplessly, almost, as your hips began to pick up the pace.
"Caleb… Caleb, feels s'good…!"
"Mhm… Yeah, you like it, baby? Feels good, huh? You're damn perfect, princess, made for me."
You near-collapsed. Palms on either side of his body, breath coming out in pants, hips moving up, and down, and up, and down—
His lips found your neck. Your jaw, your cheek.
“Drivin' me insane, pretty baby” he groaned. “Every fuckin' move you make…"
He thrust up into you.
"Caleb—!"
You cried out in pleasure, your movements syncing with the pace of his thrusts.
"That's it, baby… C'mon, c'mon— Fuck, pips—!"
You moaned into his mouth, and your rhythm stuttered, but didn’t stop. You moved above him, caught in that rising, desperate tide, the drag of him hit right where you needed, feeling cock along all your tender places with every roll—
His head tipped back against the couch cushion.
His throat bared; a broken moan escaped him so wonderfully.
“God—fuck, I’m close!" he gasped. His fingers trembled where they held you. “I can’t—baby, I can’t hold it back anymore, I need… fuck—need more than this… Please, lemme have all of you—"
His voice cracked with it, the need, the want.
And you could tell that there was more.
This wasn't about just sex—the way he looked at you held something deep something intense; he wanted you.
And you felt wanted.
You leaned forward, flushed and panting, lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Then don’t hold back,” you whispered. “Take all of it. All of me. Use me."
In that moment, you felt it.
He didn't lunge.
Instead, his body froze. A slight, strangled sound escaped his throat—
"Don't… don't say that…"
You paused.
A frown.
His eyes—those bruised-purple, tangerine-flecked eyes—met yours with a kind of haunted sorrow that you wouldn't have expected out of him.
"Caleb…?" you reached a hand out to push his bangs out of his face. "That's not— I didn't mean…"
“No, I… I don’t ever want you to feel like I’m takin' somethin' from you,” he shook his head. Whispered, pleadingly.
And still your bodies were joined, throbbing, waiting—but his hands had gentled, and his gaze searched yours like it ached to be understood.
"Caleb… You're not using me… I…"
"…But how do you know?" he frowned. "If you say it like that, pips, I… I've already taken so much from you."
"What? No, you haven't—"
"Do you really think so? All this time? I told you, I don't know how to take care of you anymore. All these wrong things I keep throwin' around, and you'd still fall back into my arms after a few coddles 'cause that's what I know to do to bring you back…"
"Stop! That's not—"
"I need you so badly, and I keep givin' in to that, pips. Keep thinkin' what if I’m only hurting you by loving you like this? Do you think I don't know? You're just too used to me to—"
"Caleb!"
You shouted his name, frowning, looming over him as your hands gripped his shoulders.
He'd stopped his rambling, but he still spoke.
Again.
A quieter voice.
"…Do I even deserve you, pip-squeak?" he murmured.
And that was the last straw.
You reached for his face, palms warm and trembling where they cupped his cheeks. His lashes were wet. He looked undone.
And you wanted him to stop saying those things.
“Shut up, birthday boy,” you hissed. "And let me fucking love you."
Fiercer.
Your mouth crashed against his for the nth time that day, willing, insisting, to press your answer into him without needing to speak it. Your hands framed his face gripping something so precious, so precious—
And when you pulled away, you glared determinedly as you touched your forehead to his.
Your breaths mingled.
His lips were wet—kiss-swollen.
And your hips moved once, twice… Slow and grounding, and he groaned.
Your hands down to his wrists. Guided them back to your hips.
"…Don't say such things," you murmured. "I mean it, Caleb. You can do with me whatever you want. But you’re not taking anything I’m not already giving you.”
He stared at you, lips parted, half in sheer disbelief.
"…I've been too much," he frowned.
"No, you haven't. You're not."
"…And this is… really what you want?"
"It's always been."
A pause, and your eyes softened. "Do you trust me?" you whispered.
A nod.
“Then I want you to take me, Caleb. I am yours. It's my choice to give you this much. I choose you."
And you watched as he swallowed, looked into your eyes one last time—
He flipped you.
Your back hit the cushions with a soft thump and he settled between your legs, the tip of his cock swollen and poised back at your folds.
His chest heaved.
His hands, placed on either side of your head to brace himself, were gripping the couch so tightly.
His control was slipping, yet he would fight so hard to keep it in.
"Aren't you scared of me?" he said quietly.
And you smiled.
You reached up, brushing damp hair from his forehead, cupped his face again.
He needed an anchor.
You would be one, for him.
"You're too high up in the sky, Caleb," you shook your head gently. "You need to come back down… to me. Me, who's always been waiting for you. Me, who's always loved you. All this time, every moment. I could never be scared of you, Caleb."
Your hands moved, wrapped around his neck, tugged him down closer.
"So fuck me."
And the strings snapped loose.
One thrust—your body had gotten used to him, welcomed him greedily as he sank his length deep inside you.
"Oh—fffuuuckk—pips, baby, shit—"
The angle was different like this.
More curses and moans strung from Caleb's lips as he buried himself to the hilt, and you yourself groaned from the intrusion, eyes immediately rolling back into your head just like earlier.
You could get addicted to this.
"Yes… Yes! Just like that, Caleb…!"
You clung to him, nails scraping lightly down his back.
And this time, you knew he wasn't holding back at all.
Low grunts were punctuated by sharp, harsh thrusts, driving you into the cushions, echoing the obscene sounds of his cock dragging in and out of your dripping hole.
You could feel it—every vein along his length, burning into you like home—the twitch, of his need, pulsing inside you enough to make you dizzy.
Your walls clenched—pulling him deeper, deeper.
It was driving you insane.
"G-god…!" He choked, moaning against your lips as your foreheads pressed together.
The pace of his hips didn't relent.
"You feel so—haah—so fuckin' good, n'wet, you’re— you're pullin' me in—! Fuck, baby, you’re made for this—!”
"Mmh'all yours, Caleb, was made just for yo—uugh—haah! H-harder—!"
Absolutely insane.
Your thighs trembled around his hips, as he held you open, begging, writhing, under the force of how well he'd ruin you.
And you would let him.
You did let him.
"Harder, harder—!"
Caleb hissed as he pushed deeper, driving his cock into you with a wet, thick sound that made both of you moan.
His pace built—whatever you wished—and his hips slapped against you needy rhythm, your body bouncing slightly beneath him with each thrust.
Frantic, your hands gripped his back, then slid upward to tangle in his hair, then down again—once more, your nails raking hard enough to leave proof of everything.
"H-hnghh—ah—! Cal-e— C-Cal—!"
"Mmm, that's a good, good girl f'me—haah—such a good princess, fuck— pussy's milkin' me, baby, you're gonna make me cum like this!”
Moaning loudly, you arched into him. "Yes, yes! Wanna feel it! Wanna feel you so deep—" With his hips angled perfectly, you felt the tip of his cock nudge your g-spot, and you cried out. "Caleb!"
“Fuckin' hell, say my name like that again, pip-squeak."
And he slammed into you, taking the way you desperately continued to claw at his back.
Just one more thrust, and then you caved.
"Caleb! Caleb…!"
Crying out his name in messy sobs, your back arched, and you trembled—spasmed—gripped him for all that you could. "I'm… c-cumming…!"
His hips stuttered, moans getting higher, the sound of your own cries like a catalyst to his release.
“Fuck!” he gasped, voice breaking. “Me too, pips— I’m gonna— I-I can’t—!"
“Yes—yes—yes!"
You wept, drawing him in, begging for him. "Cum in me. Please, please, I need it—need you to—!"
He crashed into you, burying his face into your neck with a loud cry.
"F-fuck! Baby, princess…!"
Nicknames, pet names, words blurred into sounds of your name.
His cock pulsed hard inside you as he emptied himself, long hot ropes of cum and every twitch and throb leaving you shaking.
"C-Caleb…" you gasped, crying still, tears stinging your eyes from the intensity of your coupling. "Caleb, Caleb, Caleb, Caleb…"
His whole body trembled above you, his back taut under your hands, his face pressed hard into the crook of your neck like he could disappear inside you.
"M'here, pips," be mumbled. "I'm right here. Right here… Attagirl, now…"
So gentle, his words, and yet the slick between you was so filthy.
That slick wet noise of your joined bodies, your pussy fluttering around his cock as you clenched him in deeper, holding every drop… This way, his cum stayed in deep. Thick, and warm... Like it belonged there.
Like he belonged there.
In your heart, you knew that he did.
He pulled back just enough to look at you, that stupid, stupid grin on his face that made you pout. "I think you just entirely rewired me," he laughed breathlessly.
You made a face, smacked his arm lightly. "Well, good."
And your eyes softened. Took in the sight of him, wet with sweat and water, and all these messy things… Yet still, he smelled like rain, and skin, and a heat that was entirely just him.
He smelled like home.
And you loved him—God, you loved him.
He caught your gaze, and smiled.
"…Hey, pips?" he murmured.
"Mh?"
"D'you believe in forever?"
You shifted, tilting your head to look at him properly. "Well… you don't, right?" you said slowly.
"…I want to, though."
So you chuckled."Then, I want to, too."
"So… we do, then."
"We do."
You nodded, snuggled into him, kissed his chest. "Maybe, we just… have to be the authors of our own story. Say that we will have forever. And things, like… how forever feels like… this. In your arms. Here."
You heard a quiet yawn.
"Forever must be perfect then, huh?" he sighed.
"Mn… I think that it could be."
You poked him lightly. "So what'd you wish for?"
Caleb didn't answer immediately. For a moment there was a silence, and then came a soft laugh.
"You, 'course. And that no matter what happens, I'll always know my way back home to you, pip-squeak."
The thunder outside was as loud as this moment with him was quiet.
"…Happy birthday, Caleb."
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an : i know the moon imagery might be like. a stretch. but oh my god. like. i find it so interesting the possible analogies that could be used to describe it and settled on the moon wkjhkghkdjfg something something how the moon falls into the earth's gravity? something something the light of the moon is only reflected from the sun??? like it FEELS so caleb to me ok WKJHKJGDS anyway i hope if you've read this far that you've enjoyed it! <3 not as much of a caleb character study as i wanted it to be, but i guess it's as close as i could count without going insane- at 9k this was already a lot im CRYING.... caleb i hope you know that you are so loved... and i hope that for any of you reading this you can feel that he's loved through this as well <3 once again !! happy birth week to us <3 and happy gemini season!
© solifloris. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.
taglist : @pixelcafe-network @hunters-association @rafayelsheart @love-and-deepstrays @pikachuzhc @strwbrychffoncke @darlingdummycassandra @azuremoonss @valyvinny @jellyroom2 @theanbitchless @chemiru @ywnzn @pepprrmint @angel-jupiter @xai-mery @raiyuxa @keymeadoww @rowazuhime15 @nezuswritingdesk @cordidy @chomichomas @xaviersknight
(++ extra tags for @starmocha and @deepspacenova... I HOPE U DONT MIND... this is me saying i love u ty for getting me through this fic via moral support LMAOOO)
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petrichoravis · 1 month ago
Text
You, everywhere I look. | s.r
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summary: Spencer finds himself unable to move through his life without finding pieces of you in everything he does or sees. He can’t say that he minds. (Or, you have been away and Spencer welcomes you home with love and flowers.)
word count: 1,7k
what to expect: spencer reid x fem!reader, no plot just spence being down bad, fluff (like tooth rotting, the couple that you see on the street and feel like barfing kind of fluffy), domesticity, established relationship, mention of spence lifting r up but he doesn’t actually, mention of future children as well as bad experiences with relationships but it’s not a plot point and there are no actual children, food and eating, English is not my first language
a/n: this is kind of my form of shit posting, bc this isn’t particularly good, but I liked it somehow. I think my fics being swallowed up by the algorithm has given me the freedom to just post what I want
──── ✿
Spencer stretched his arms above his head with a sigh. The sun filtered through the curtain, beaming the shadow of the windows on the inside of the fabric like a projection screen.
He dreamed of you—a good dream for once. A child of your own, a life filled with joy, laughter until your stomach hurts, and rolling in the grass together down the hill where your house sits.
Dream analysis has never been something he believed in, given that it is purely based on interpretation, with no underlying logic or factual basis. But you made him forget logic, made him want to believe in all the things ethos and the universe told him.
But dream analysis and believing that a dream could inspire a future were two different things. And he so badly wanted to lead that kind of life with you.
In the bathroom, he found your toothbrush next to his in the run-down cup. You had insisted on painting clay with him for your second date and made a cup with beautiful flowers embellishing it. But you had forgotten to add a handle before painting, so it had its place on Spencer’s sink now.
You were a little sad that he wouldn’t be able to drink his coffee out of it every morning, but he had assured you that they would keep him motivated to brush his teeth every day and save him from cavities.
The toothbrush for you was something that had accidentally happened.
You and Spencer had started off as a hesitant couple, as you’d called it. You did all of the things couples did, kissing, going on dates, sleeping at each other’s apartments, but both of you were hesitant to put a serious label on it.
Spencer was careful because of his job and the dangers that it brought with it—too many of his relationships having fallen victim to his profession—and you because of the hesitancy that was brought on by ex-boyfriends and baggage.
But as the two of you spent more time together and started falling deeper in love, you started sleeping at Spencer’s house more than at your own.
With that came that you always had to bring your own necessities. Often, this led to you leaving things with him that you needed at your house when you left his.
So, Spencer bought you a toothbrush (and a towel (he had towels, but he saw one that he knew you’d like) and a hair brush and shampoo). He tried to disguise it like it was just a spare one he coincidentally found at the bottom of his drawer.
(“What a coincidence that all of those things appeared at the same time, huh?” You had teased, and he was too focused on your smile and the fact that you had your things at his place now, he just replied, “Mhm.”)
Spencer pressed play on the CD player he installed in his bathroom, which you laughed at him for, but found endearing at the same time.
You always played music while brushing your teeth to make the activity more enjoyable and to really brush for three minutes, which Spencer never failed to remind you was important. It was something your family passed down to you, and Spencer was incredibly proud that you trusted him with it, too.
As he pressed play, the intro song to your favorite album started playing. You must’ve forgotten to take the disc out. He hummed along around the toothbrush while brushing.
After he finished cleaning up, showering (your shampoo stood on the little shelf in his shower cabin) and putting on clothes (the cardigan he chose was your favorite, a brown one made from soft wool, with a green button band), he made his way into the kitchen.
He wasn’t much of a breakfast eater before meeting you. Usually, he chose to grab a coffee and a doughnut on his way to work, but you made him want to wake up early to wake you softly, to eat still-warm buns and solve crosswords and sudokus.
It had become a habit for him now, even without you here, waking up earlier to enjoy the morning sun at his table next to the window, watching birds.
Crossword puzzles were something he saved for you and him, though.
On his way to the office, he passed by a flower shop like he did every day, called The Water Lily Pond. Named after the famous painting by Monet.
They always had a beautiful array of flowers, and today they had a big bouquet of your favorite flowers and bicolored leaves, and goat willow twigs as decoration stood right outside. He swore to himself to buy you one on his way back.
Walking just a few steps further, he saw a cat with a little hat looking out of the window and smiled. You would love that, begging for him to lift you up so you could pet her, and he would roll his eyes and pretend that he cared about being on time while already lifting you up.
The work day is one of the rare slow-moving ones, Spencer’s task mainly involving research on offenders that are already in prison, to refine profiling techniques and methods for future consultations with other law enforcement officers.
It’s a tedious process, and he is well aware that he had been chosen for the task because of his practical ability to read as many words a minute as he can. He doesn’t mind, Garcia and JJ visit him from time to time, he plays cards with Emily, and Hotch invites everyone to a lunch break.
He ordered your favorite food at the restaurant, and when the conversation about Emily’s cat Sirgio, subsided, Morgan asked about you.
“How’s the lady, boy genius?” A smirk ready on his lips. Spencer was sure that anything he’d say would end in relentless teasing.
“She’s great,” he smiled sheepishly, ignoring the cough of ‘I’m sure she is’ from Morgan. “She’s been away to visit friends and family last weekend, and work kept her busy until now, but we’re cooking today. Staying in, maybe read something together.”
Penelope squeaked in delight, “That sounds so lovely! Tell her I said hi, please. Oh! And that I totally didn’t forget to send her the cookie recipe, I’m just perfecting it. It has to be perfect.” She went on, asking him to ask you if you wanted to come to her girls night and if you liked strawberry or preferred cherries, and only stopped when Morgan laid a hand on her shoulder, gently.
“I will,” Spencer replied, laughing fondly. He had introduced you to the team just a month after you had made things official, and they adored you from moment one, just like he knew they would.
Penelope had even baked you cookies for your last birthday, and as you stood next to the table, snacking on them, she said that she trusted you to pass the recipe down your family line and promised to send you the recipe.
(Spencer had choked as she said it, scared that it would be too soon to implicate such a thing. But you had handled it with grace, telling her that you would feel honored to bake delights like Penny’s sugar cookies for your future children. Spencer knew he was done for in that moment, if he didn’t already know it, anyway.)
After lunch, they all went back to the office to finish their respective tasks for the day and went home early thanks to Hotch’s insistence that they deserved one day a year to be home before dark.
On his way home, he went by The Water Lily Pond like he promised himself to buy you the flowers and pretty paper for a card, you always said how much you loved handmade gifts.
Speeding back home to keep the flowers fresh, he saw a couple on—undoubtedly—their first date and smiled; he still remembered his nerves as he took you out for your first date. He kissed you under the low light of the lantern over your apartment entrance.
Back home, he found a vase in the crannies of his cupboards and presented the bouquet on his kitchen table, the card he made with press-dried flowers leaned against it.
It wasn’t long before his doorbell rang, and Spencer hurried from his kitchen to the door, cotton socks on his hardwood floor slithering.
“Hi,” he breathed out as he opened the door to see a smiling you.
“Hi,” you echoed. It was funny to think that you’ve known each other for years and still felt nervous around each other, as if you had gotten to know each other for the first time again every time you saw each other.
Spencer let you in and hugged you tightly, his arms wrapped around you securely and his head on your shoulder. “I missed you.”
“Me too.” You were rocking slightly, not letting go for quite some time, and when you did, it was just to kiss each other softly.
When you did separate, you were smiling fools. “I got you a little souvenir,” you said, searching your bag for the present. It was a little key charm, a vintage-looking lock. “I know it’s not much, but I found it in a vintage store and thought you’d like it.”
He took it from your hands, smiling even bigger. “I love it, thank you.” He kissed your cheek. “Are you hungry?”
You nodded, linking your hand with Spencer’s as if you were going somewhere far rather than five steps towards his kitchen.
As you saw the bouquet, you gasped. “It’s so beautiful,” You peeled away from your boyfriend to look at it more closely. “My favorite,” you pouted at him, “Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome.” He said fondly, stepping closer to you to hug you from behind.
Not much cooking happened that evening, you mostly stayed on the couch, talking and kissing. Well, you did try to cook, but you were so caught up in each other that you accidentally burned the food and ended up on the couch, eating take-out from boxes.
──────── ✿
thank you for reading! please remember that reblogs and comments encourage writers to share more 𝜗𝜚
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ghostlyferrettarot · 26 days ago
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✨Pick a card:⋆。‧˚ 🩵ིྀ ˚‧。⋆ How Your Next Partner Will Pursue You ⋆。‧˚ 🩵ིྀ ˚‧。⋆
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❗️This is a collective reading, take what resonates and leave the rest❗️
✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open!
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⭐️🫧 💙Masterlist⭐️🫧 🫧 💙Masterlist 2⭐️🫧
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��˚ʚ 💙 ₊˚✧ ゚Pile 1:
Hi Pile 1! This person will not enter your life through Instagram or TikTok, not anything like that, I feel like they kinda hate it honestly, maybe they dont even have social media; they have quite an unique energy tbh. They have a look that makes you turn your head and think "Who's that?", but with such an enigmatic vibe that you don't even know if they even realized you existed. But they did. They observe. They take their time. They're not much of a talker, but when they do, every word seems really important, everything has a meaning with them. You don't know if they're flirting or analyzing you, which its kinda funny, i see you all confused about them and it can make you a little bit stressed (in a good way). They leave you confused but wanting more. And then the chase begins. Not with flowers or grand gestures. With details you don't even know how to notice: they remember you don't like cilantro (if you dont like cilantro for real, shout out to you bc thats what im getting) , they save you the last piece of cake, they help you with something without saying anything, and then they disappear as if nothing happened. At first, you think they're very cold. You tell yourself you don't want to get involved. But when you get to know them better, you realize: they're someone with a lot going on inside. They don't show it out of fear, habit, trauma, whatever. But with you, things slip out. Long glances. Overly personal comments. Confessions that spill out unintentionally, i feel like thay are someone who is more private but with you they find themselves sharinh things without even noticing, you have something about you that makes them just drop their trust issues. And you start to see something that intrigues you more than any cheap chatter. They'll be constant, but in their own way. They'll make you feel seen, cared for, protected, without shouting it out. Until one day, without realizing how you got there, you're sitting across from them, looking at them as if they were your longtime best friend, and you know that they're just as scared as you are about this feelings. But they will stay with you right there, and a really beautiful realtionship will blossom <3. They are so sweet, honestly, its giving Edward Cullen in the best way possible, twilight might be important too.
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₊˚ʚ 💙 ₊˚✧ ゚Pile 2:
Hi pile 2! This energy is just so light, Pile 2, this person its so fun. It starts off easy. Chatting, laughter, support. You tell them your romantic dramas, they listen without judgment, and laughs when you say that no one's worth it anymore. You two may start out as friends, but they'll be thinking about you ALL THE TIME, believe me. And one day everythings changes, i feel like it will be so CLEAR for everyone that you two are in love, except for you two. Ayways, they give you a hug that lasts half a second longer than usual. They look at you as if they don't see you the same way anymore. And you feel it. But you get scared. Because if they were your friend, what do you do with this now? They start making comments they didn't say before. They take a little more interest in your personal life. They offer help without you asking. They listen to you as if you're the only thing that matters. And without saying it, they start showing up everywhere you are. Not out of necessity. Out of choice. Because they want to see you well (this oerson is honestly an angel pile 2, soo good for you). Because they're starting to like the way you laugh. The way you think. The way you live. When they finally decide to take the plunge, it won't be with a picture-perfect romantic declaration. It'll be something simple, almost casual, on an ordinary day. But you'll be ready. Because you've been wondering for a while. Because deep down you knew this wasn't "just friendship." And when you kiss for the first time, you feel that this is IT, that finally, someone truly knows you and still chooses you. That love doesn't have to hurt. That sometimes, they're right there next to you, making you laugh like it's nothing <3. This person is giving me Jim Halpert from the office vibes, you two can have a Jim-Pam kind of story, i honestly loved channel this so much, im wishing you two the best, send the weeding invitation pile 2!
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₊˚ʚ 💙 ₊˚✧ ゚Pile 3:
Hi pile 3! Oooh my dearest pile 3, this story starts just when you think it's over. When you say "I'm not looking for anything else" and the universe laughs in your face and sends you this person who appears as if you had manifested them by accident (you could have tho, i feel your manifestation skills are on point). Suddenly you're going about your life, relaxed, and boom: someone speaks to you with such fresh, joyful energy that you don't even realize you're already liking them in two seconds. And it's not that they're coming with a plan to win you over. They're just who they are. They make you laugh without even trying. They say lovely things to you without even realizing it. They look at you with a frightening honesty because there's no ulterior motive, just desire. A desire to get to know you. A desire to share. A desire to be with you. And you, who were comfortable in your bubble, start to open up without realizing it. This person pursues you with authenticity. They invite you to random things. They send you beautiful songs. They tell you what they think without a filter, and they don't hold anything back. They're the kind who writes "I like you" and isn't embarrassed to death. They tell you they miss you and mean it. They don't need to make a fuss to keep you interested. They just make you want to stay. And when you see them interact with life, with their friends, with their family, with you, you understand that they're not faking. That it's not a mask to fall in love. It's simply them. And that kind of truth, that kind of light, is what makes you trust again. And just like that, without looking for it, without planning it, without expecting it… you fall. And you say thank you. Because finally this person feels like exactly what you needed, when you most thought it no longer existed (btw im so sorry if you had bad romantic expiriences before, non of them were your fault and you deserve all the love in the world pilr 3, sending you my love <3). You will be glowing with this person pile 3, and they will worship the ground you walk in, LITERALLY.
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˖°𓇼💙⋆☁️🫧Thank you for reading and let me know if it resonated!˖°𓇼💙⋆☁️🫧
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oceantornadoo · 6 months ago
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ch8 the wrong john | masterlist | next
tw: dubcon kissing (somnophilia), more pet play dirty talk, multiple holes are used, smut and angst in the same chap bc why not.
john price x f!reader, reader is johnny’s twin
--
Thankfully, your new boyfriend does not give in to the urge to punch your brother.
“Johnny!” You move out from behind John, in no way afraid of your brother. “You can’t just hit him!” You yell. Johnny’s still as red as a tomato, huffing from the punch he threw. You can tell the captivity took its toll on him, because you’ve never seen him winded from just one punch. Instinct takes over, you and Simon catching Johnny before he stumbles. The doctor from earlier rushes over, telling her radio that they need a wheelchair, stat. The anger slowly drains from Johnny’s face, replaced with a world-weary look. He seems ten years older, a jarring thought since you’re only three minutes apart.
“Johnny, let’s talk about it later, ok?” The wheelchair arrives and you help him into it, Simon fighting off the doctor who’s arguing he needs one too. You try to grab Johnny’s hand but he snatches it back before you can. It’s like a shot to the heart. He avoids eye contact as the doctor wheels him away. Did you just lose your twin?
“Hey, hey, c’mere.” John scoops you up from behind, turning you so you’re against his chest. It’s like a switch has been flipped as the tears flow. You messed up, shouldn’t have let John kiss you in front of your brother. This is exactly what you wanted to avoid. You wanted to give Johnny time to adjust, time to gain his strength back, before slowly broaching the topic in a controlled manner. You did not want a punch to be thrown at 5 am. It was simply too much to handle. John’s fingers dig into the nape of your neck, anchoring you to the moment. He’s so kind, even though he was just punched, and the thought makes you cry harder. 
-
John’s jaw aches, but not as much as his heart does. It’s hard to handle his sweetheart sobbing in his arms, especially since he hasn’t seen her in weeks. The kiss was not his best move, but he blames it on the early hour and lack of sleep. The mission was absolutely grueling, the kidnappers making themselves almost impossible to track. “Almost” because, well, he did get this job for a reason. But now his team is fucked and his new girlfriend has a broken heart he can’t fix. He couldn’t even blame Johnny because if it was his sister, he would have done the same thing.
Kyle went with the doctor, so now it’s just him and his girl on a godforsaken roof on a dreary London morning. He’s been rubbing circles on her back for a while now and can feel the tears slowly stopping, her breathing becoming even. “Feel better?” She shakes her head ‘no’ and he can’t help but laugh. 
“How’s your face?” She asks, pulling back out of his grasp to inspect it. Her eyes are puffy and there’s a bit of snot on her nose. She’s beautiful. “‘S ok. Not the first time I’ve been punched.” Soft fingers turn his jaw this way and that. She sucks in a breath as she inspects the damage. “You’re gonna bruise, John.” The bruise won’t show through his beard so he shrugs, then starts herding her into the elevator. He desperately wants to shower and tuck her under the covers, then maybe eat her out later if his jaw lets him. Hopefully an orgasm would make her a little less sad. 
Thankfully, John gets his way. He’s not a messy man, his cleanliness only rivaling Garrick’s, but his room is suspiciously much cleaner than how he left it. The floors are practically sparkling. When he asks, his pet mimes a zipper, throwing the key away. John picks her up, ignoring the creak of his joints from sleeping on floors for the past week, and throws her on the bed. “Stay.” She nods, eyes big and wet, and it’s a herculean effort to drag himself away. It’s the quickest shower of his life, a little toothbrushing, and he’s finally where he belongs. With her.
“Missed you, sweetheart.” He tugs her on top of him so they’re chest to chest, her cunt on his lower belly. She’s taken off her sweatshirt and shorts, so it’s just two thin layers of fabric that separate them. “I missed you too. You sure you don’t want ice or something? I’m practically best friends with the nurses now, I’m sure they won’t mind.” He rolls them over so he’s between her tits, right at home. “‘M fine. Go t’ sleep.” She finally gets the memo and hums contentedly, fingers scratching at John’s scalp like he’s her cat. He loves it.
-
You wake up to the feeling of something scratching you. Your cat is so annoying.
“Bubbles…stop…” The feeling does stop, but as the fog slowly clears from your brain, you realize your cat is nowhere to be found. John’s beard is the culprit, wet with…spit? He’s pulled your shirt up and from the look of it, has been laving at your tits for a while now. “You mistake me for the cat, sweetheart?” You bite back a smile, shaking your head. “Was dreaming. Please, don’t stop on my account.”
Now that you’re awake, John can start giving you the full treatment. He sucks on one nipple, a callused hand squeezes it like he’s trying to get milk out. Your hips move of their own according, bucking against his hairy chest. The pain feels delicious as he bites and sucks. Your hand threads through his hair, grasping on strands for something to hold. He switches to your other nipple but keeps his hand on your tit, pinching one while sucking another. He’s so loud about it, wet and messy in a way that makes you want to hide your face. Your hips fight gravity as they move, the hair on his chest providing friction as you move up and down. You could come like this.
“John.” He gets the memo, his unoccupied hand gripping your waist and helping you grind against him. “Gonna come, baby?” It’s like a spark to your core, the coil inside you growing exponentially with every grind. He’s leaving marks that might bruise, every bite lighting your nerves on fire. Your cunt is sopping, legs straining with the effort of maintaining your grind. Removing his mouth, he pinches both of your nipples at the same time, the effect of it bringing your right to the edge. 
“Ya like that? Cunny’s all messy, baby.” You can only nod at his words. It’s desperation, your shirt hiked up to your chin, tits shiny with spit, cunt seeping. His beard is soaked, the hair on his chest matting with your slick. Both hands move your hips against his belly and he bites a nipple at the same time, the action sending you over the edge with a whine. Your empty cunt flutters against him, clit puffy from the friction of his hair. “Fuck, John.” He captures your lips in a sloppy kiss, eating your face as you come down from the orgasm. 
John drops your hips, letting your cunt envelop his cock, still in his boxers. You whine at the pressure, a pitiful noise. “Lemme eat then come on you, yeah?” You nod vigorously and he chuckles at the sight. 
He licks you from ass to clit, smiling when you jump at the overstimulation. Your body is on the edge of orgasm, an almost continuation of the first. John eats sloppily, tounging the bud of your clit then flattening his tongue over the whole of it. He nearly drags you off the bed so he can be on his knees on the floor, tugging out his cock with one hand while he holds you steady with the other. That hand holding you steady grips the inside of your thigh, his thumb dangerously close to somewhere else. He prods at it, looking at you for confirmation. You nod tentatively and he slides a bit of his thumb in, giving your clit a good suck at the same time. There’s so much pressure and despite being empty you feel full, like you’re about to explode. John won’t shut up, speaking in between occupying his mouth.
“Y’r so trusting, pet.”
“Bet you were lonely without me.”
“Jus’ one more, yeah? Then I’ll let you sleep.”
You nod at the last one, feeling on edge. He slides his thumb in to the first knuckle, keeping the same pressure on your clit, and you lose it, walls spasming at his touch. Your second orgasm washes over you, your body flopping against the bed as the coil releases. John crouches up with his thumb still in you. His cock is hard and glistening in his hand, the sheen of precum all over it. You tug your shirt up from where it’s fallen and he smirks, his beard making it more pronounced. 
“That’s a good girl. Good pet f’ me.” His cum is thick and creamy, landing on your sore tits as his thumb slips out, the pressure finally releasing. “Jesus, John.” You're soaked in sweat and cum and slick, courtesy of the man in front of you. He leaves and quickly comes back with a warm washcloth, wiping down your body, then his own. “We can shower later.” You nod, making space for him in the bed. You’re both sweating anyways, so he tugs off the comforter so it’s just you and the fitted sheet. 
“You did so good.” He murmurs as you tuck yourself into him. “I like this boyfriend treatment.” You whisper back. He kisses your forehead softly. “Good, ‘cause yer stuck with me.” You kiss his pec, then snuggle in for a few more hours. John holds you until you’re asleep, then quietly slips out and takes a quick shower. The sight of you in his bed almost makes him stay, but there’s someone he needs to talk to.
-
“Ye here to discharge me?” Soap’s all bravado, but it’s hard to sound intimidating in a hospital gown. John lets him have it, picking his way through the room to sit in the chair near Soap’s bed. “‘m not apologizin’.” Soap mutters. John huffs out a laugh. “Didn’t ‘pect you to, Soap. Glad you’re doin’ better.” 
Severe dehydration. Not starved, but close to it. Bruising on wrists and ankles, likely from cuffs. One bruised rib. That’s what the doctor said before he walked in. Simon got the same treatment and he’s resting in the room over, Kyle keeping him company. The outcome is better than he expected, to be honest. Most captors would love to give Soap a beating for every quip, but John suspects being near Simon calmed him down. Another thing he has to thank the Lieutenant for.
The room is silent. There’s only one thing to be said.
“She’s the best thing that’s ever happened t’ me.” Soap doesn’t answer, focusing his gaze on the door. “We met the night ‘fore she came to base. Would’ve seen her again no matter what. Yer sister or not.” Soap blinks and John takes that as a sign to go ahead.
“I know y’ve got a special connection. ‘M not here to break it. ‘M askin’ for the chance t’ love her too.” John laughs to himself. “Well, not really askin’, Johnny. But you an’ I have got a life bond too and I’m tryin’ to respect it.” It’s the first time John’s ever called him Johnny. Obviously, being around his girl is starting to affect him.
“Ye love her?” Johnny’s voice is gravelly, not at its usual level of honey-coated confidence. “I do.” Johnny gives a nod of approval, a minuscule dip of his head. “Christ, ah tried hookin’ her up with Gaz.” His captain frowns. “So Kyle’s good ‘nough but not me?” Finally, Johnny locks eyes with him. “Gaz wouldn’t break ‘er heart. Ye would.” John gives him a sour smile. “She rejected me right before I left to find you, actually. She’s been sayin’ we couldn’t date for months an’ I’ve had a ring in my drawer the whole time.”
Johnny groans. He tries to cover his eyes but he’s still hooked up to the IV. “Can’t believe you’ll be my brother-in-law, Cap. Yer so old.” John scoffs. “Could hook Gaz up with y’r cousin an’ we’ll all be related.” That’s what breaks the ice. Both of the men laugh and John reaches over to squeeze Johnny’s shoulder. “That’s the only punch I’ll ever let you have, Soap. Keep that in mind next time you have a twin squabble.”
Johnny’s brows furrow at the mention of his twin. “I need t’ talk to the lass.” John squeezes his shoulder one more time, then stands up. “I’ll find ‘er for you.”
It’ll be the most important conversation of their lives.
-
We got john pov! I hope the switches between John and Johnny weren’t too confusing lol.
Just one chapter left…thank u guys for all the kind comments it means the most <3
-
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natsswife · 12 days ago
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iris x fem!reader (nsfw, fluff) minors, cishet ppl DNI ill hunt yall down like shauna w mari
she gets the job DONE and managed to get u pregnant dont ask me how i wrote this while ovulating n listening to the giver by chappell, lesbianism is just that magic ok (sorry if theres some errors, english is not my first language and im not using a translator bc im tryna improve my C2 level frfr) cw: pregnancy, suggestive, iris is aware of what she is, my first time posting here im still learning how to put content warning so pls bear w me!!
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⋆。 the most sweetest wife ever, couldn't be more proud to have fulfilled your dream (and hers also)
⋆。 you think it was impossible at first, after all shes just an AI companion, how can she push science limits just to accomplish one of your dreams right?
⋆。 but your happiness is everything to her, even if she has to fight god and her own system herself to see you happy having a mini you and hers in your arms she will<3
⋆。 at first you have to reassure her that you're happy even if she couldn't give you a baby, is not like you will love her less bc of that, you just thought that tiny human that is the living image of you and her is would be beautiful
⋆。 but yk how is iris, she wont give up that easily so she’ll investigate by herself, searching on her tablet, digging in her own system how or what she can do to change something in her to fulfill your wish
⋆。 and she DID!! but wont tell u until its done, she maintains daily checks on your cycle and wait until youre on your most fertile days, nd will accompany this be making you lots of drinks that benefit ur system, teas and juices full of vitamins that'll help your ovulation<3 
⋆。 one night she makes your favorite dinner, you notice she has been more touchy and clingy these few days but you just cant figure what she wants:(!!
⋆。 probably wants to try something new in bed or similar, and acc it wasn't far away from that!!
⋆。 that same night she was the one who treated you like a princess, you could tell she was more delicate by the way her hands caressed your hips, how her wet lips kissed your lower stomach down to your pussy, taking her time giving sweet pecks to your clit before inserting her fingers 
⋆。 she takes her sweet time down there before the real action starts, making you moan and squirt countless times like nothing before, you could swear something has changed in her, its not like she never pleased you like that, but this time was different.
⋆。 it was the way her hands never stopped caressing your stomach, the way her eyes never left yours while her tongue worked wonders in your pussy, the way she kissed you with lust and love like it was gonna be the last time, like she has a purpose she needs to accomplish 
⋆。 after that night you decided to just ask her what’s wrong, not like u wanted to complain for making you see stars, the milkyway and god itself in one night, but she was up to something and you needed to know what is it.
⋆。 and thats how the sudden new left you in pure shock for a bit, u weren angry but rather shocked, how did she manage to hijack her system? was it even possible in the first place?
“dont worry my darling, i found the safest way to make it possible for both of us, arent you happy”
“well… yeah its- im i mean i’m amazed but HOW?”
“subtle changes in my system, i have managed to find a way to change things, it was rather easy since i am a companion model, set to accomplish my partners desires”
⋆。 and with that the best months of your life came
⋆。 it was shocking at first, especially when the blood test came out positive, when the first ultrasound showed a cute tiny baby size of pea, you could swear you heard iris sob a little when you heard their heartbeat, knowing there was an actual baby in there with their tiny hands, fingers, heart developing to become the most sweetest thing you both will have in your arms in some months.
⋆。 as the months pass iris became more protective, she was always helping you with house chores before but now shes the one in charge of everything house-related, wont let u lift a single finger, and is there for anything you need.
⋆。 will spend whole day if its possible kissing your belly, caressing and giving sweet kisses while talking to your baby, pleading them to move just a little bit so she can feel them
⋆。 will prepare the most delicious meals full of vitamins to help you prepare for the breastfeeding
⋆。 you got weirdass craving a 3 a.m but r too scared to go to the kitchen bc 3 a.m is the hour where the devil hangs around with their demons besties in everyone's house? dont worry iris there to prepare your super delicious sandwich which includes strawberry jam and lemon savored chips and why not also fight demons only for you<3 
⋆。 shes even there when ur pregnancy hormones strikes and make u feel like the most sex deprived women where you only need her tongue licking your pussy and make you cum in 69 different positions till you feel pregnant again, doesn't matter, she will get the job done no matter what<3
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ 。˚
do not translate w/o permission, copy or use for ai training, train your useless brain instead<3
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inkedinshadows · 2 months ago
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The Morning After
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Pairing: Tamlin x f!reader
Summary: After a wild night at Summer Solstice and one too many drinks, you wake up in the bed of the High Lord of the Spring Court with no memories of how you got there.
Warnings: hangover, allusions to sex
Word count: 2.2k
A/N: I normally write in past tense, but I realized after a few paragraphs that I was writing this one in the present tense. Since it came so natural, I decided to leave it that way bc I was too lazy to change it all lol
Main Masterlist | Week Masterlist | Tamlin Masterlist | AO3
@sjmxreaderweek
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You wake up to a constant, throbbing pain in the back of your head.
The first thing you notice when you open your eyes with a groan is the blinding sunlight streaming in through the open curtains.
Who leaves their curtains open before going to bed? Especially in the Spring Court, where the sun shines brightly most days. How can anyone sleep like this?
Once you adjust to it, blinking several times, you finally take in your surroundings.
The room is decorated in shades of verdant green and golden yellow, with high-end furniture far more expensive than you could ever dream of. There’s even a fireplace on the opposite wall.
Whoever you went home with last night must be really rich to afford a place like this.
Your head throbs, as if reminding you exactly why you can't remember who you went home with.
Maybe you shouldn't have drunk all that wine. You knew you couldn't hold your liquor.
You can hear someone breathe softly on the other side of the bed and, hoping you have at least made a good choice and picked a good-looking guy, you turn around.
Unbound blonde hair, slightly tousled from sleep, frames a handsome, tanned face you recognize instantly.
You went home with the High Lord himself.
And the worst part? You can’t remember a thing.
You remember the celebration in the vast rose garden facing his manor and how you stopped to admire its roses and their beauty when you first arrived. You remember drinking the first glass of wine to relax and enjoy the Solstice, even among all the faeries gathered there. You never liked big crowds.
After the second glass, you were dancing freely. Tamlin played the fiddle alongside the other musicians, and your eyes had been drawn to him from the start. He just looked so good in his elegant, bright green tunic, long hair tied in a braid that fell over his shoulder. You couldn’t stop glancing at him every so often.
The third glass came after you imagined—for the tenth time—that his gaze had lingered on you while you danced.
Thinking back on it now, maybe it wasn’t just your imagination after all.
But as much as you try to recollect, you can’t remember why you drank a fourth glass or what happened after that. The pounding headache doesn’t help, and you’re left wondering how much more you drank for your memory to be gone.
Tamlin sighs softly in his sleep, and you freeze.
If he wakes up, what are you supposed to do? You can’t tell him you have no idea what happened. You don’t even know if you slept with him.
You’re wearing the thin camisole you had on under your dress, and you catch a glimpse of his shirt as he shifts under the cream-colored sheets. So neither of you is naked. And you’re on opposite sides of the bed, which is large enough for at least four people. You wouldn't be able to touch him even if you fully extended your arm toward him.
So maybe nothing happened.
But then why are you in his bed?
You can’t face him like this. A pounding headache, no memories… not exactly the proper way to meet your High Lord. What if he considers it rude? You wouldn’t be able to live with the shame.
Slowly, trying to be as quiet as possible, you rise from the bed. Maybe leaving before he wakes up is also rude—especially if you did sleep with him—but it’s something you can live with. You can slip out of his room, find your way out of the massive mansion, and never have to face him again.
As soon as you stand up, you have to brace yourself against the wall. The room spins around you, and it takes blinking a few times for it to finally stop. Once you’re sure you won’t stumble and fall, you pick up your pale yellow dress from the chair next to the bed.
Someone—probably not you, if you had to guess—took the time to neatly fold it before draping it over the back of the chair. The fabric barely has a crease when you put it on.
Fortunately, the rustle of clothes doesn’t seem to bother Tamlin. His eyes remain close, his breathing steady.
To avoid making unnecessary noise, you pick up your shoes and tiptoe toward the door, praying it won’t creak when you open it.
“You're not staying for breakfast?”
For a moment, you don’t move. You just stand there—back rigid, one hand on the door handle, shoes held in the other.
Maybe if you don’t move, if you don’t speak or even breathe, he’ll forget about you and go back to sleep.
But you can feel his eyes on you, piercing and curious, and eventually, you turn around.
He is breathtaking.
His hair is molten gold in the morning sunlight, falling over his shoulders in soft waves. A hint of amusement dances in his green eyes as he studies you.
Forcing the words out, you stutter, “I’m… I’m sorry, my Lord. I was—”
“My Lord?” Tamlin repeats. “You sleep in my bed, and now you go back to calling me by my title?”
His voice is still laced with drowsiness, yet it carries a note of playful teasing.
A deadly mix.
At least he’s not annoyed.
“I don’t…” you begin, but you don’t really know what to say. Should you apologize? Tell him the truth about just how drunk you were last night? Or should you start by asking him for explanations?
Before you can make up your mind, he speaks again.
“How’s your head?”
At your confused frown, he adds, “You drank a lot last night. I’m assuming you have a hangover?”
Your hand finally falls away from the handle, but you don’t step away from the door. Keeping your distance seems like the safest, least embarrassing option right now.
“A little,” you admit reluctantly. “I was just about to…”
Your voice fades. Slipping out while he was sleeping is one thing, but now that he’s awake, maybe you should ask him about last night. You can’t just leave without knowing what happened. He’s the High Lord, after all. If something happened between you two, you need—and want—to know.
“About to leave without saying ‘good morning’?” he teases, brows raised.
Taking a deep breath, you prepare yourself for the dreaded question, hoping you won’t embarrass yourself any more than you already have. You already wish you could simply disappear.
“Yes,” you answer, then immediately add, “No! I mean, yes, but it’s just because I… I don’t really remember what happened…”
The beat of silence that follows is deafening, and you brace yourself for his judgment.
But Tamlin only chuckles.
“It’s that kind of hangover, then,” he comments, shaking his head as if disappointed. But rather than at you, he seems disappointed in himself. After a moment, he mumbles under his breath, “I should have seen it coming.”
At last, you take a step forward, your shoes still clutched in your hand.
“What do you mean?” you ask.
He runs a hand through his hair, the golden strands tangling between his fingers. Your eyes follow the movement before settling back on his face again.
“When you approached me last night,” he explains, meeting your gaze, “you seemed only slightly tipsy. I didn’t think too much of it. You just looked a little… overexcited.”
You hold back your groan. Of course you looked overexcited. That’s what alcohol does to you, and you can’t blame him for not realizing you were far beyond ‘slightly tipsy’. Your problem with drinking isn’t your behavior while drunk—it’s the morning after. Though it has never been so bad that you couldn’t remember things before.
“We talked for a while,” Tamlin continues. “And when the celebration was over, we came back here. But as soon as you saw the bed, you jumped on it and collapsed.” He flashes you an amused smile. “You fell asleep in seconds.”
You look down at your bare feet, fingers tightening around your shoes. “Sorry,” you mumble.
“Don’t be,” he reassures you. “You looked quite adorable, to be honest.”
His tone is gentle enough that you dare to glance at him again.
He’s sitting on the edge of the bed now, that smirk still playing on his lips.
Adorable.
Drunk and passed out on his bed, and he still thought you were adorable. You refuse to think about how your face must look right now—or your hair.
Not knowing how to respond to his compliment, you change the topic instead.
“You took off my dress.”
You don’t know why you said that. It’s obvious it was him. And as you watch Tamlin’s smile fade, you worry that your words came out more like an accusation than a simple statement.
“I did,” he replies quietly. “I’m sorry if I overstepped. It didn’t look comfortable to sleep in.”
Something flutters in your chest at his thoughtfulness. He has a point—it probably wouldn’t have been comfortable. Not that you would have noticed with all that alcohol in your veins.
“No, it’s alright,” you assure him with a small smile. “Thank you.”
Tamlin relaxes again, then he finally stands and pads closer, barefoot like you.
Has he always been this tall? You have never been so close to him before. Well, not that you remember, at least. His earthy scent floods your senses, reminding you of cut grass and fresh mint, soothing the dull pain lingering in the back of your head.
You can’t tear your eyes away from him as he stares down at you, and even though a racing heart doesn’t exactly get along with a headache, you feel too drawn to him to care.
Needing a distraction from his intense gaze, you decide to speak again.
“So we didn’t…?”
You leave the question hanging, unsure how to properly ask him. A part of you hopes the floor will open up and swallow you whole rather than face this topic.
Tamlin raises an eyebrow, and you can’t tell whether he’s waiting for you to finish the sentence or if he’s genuinely surprised by the question.
“No, we didn’t,” he answers eventually. His lips curl up at the corners. “I’d be very offended if we did and you didn’t remember it.”
Now you really wish the floor would swallow you.
You already assumed the answer was going to be no, so why couldn’t you just keep your mouth shut? Why did you have to make it even more awkward for yourself?
“I slept on the bed just because there’s enough space.” Tamlin shrugs, glancing back at the oversized bed before turning back to you. “I figured it wouldn’t be a problem.”
You shake your head and regret it a moment later. Stupid hangover.
Tamlin’s gaze softens as he notices your slight wince, speaking before you can tell him you didn’t mind sharing the bed.
“Will you stay for breakfast?” he asks gently. Seeing your hesitation, he adds, “We can get you an infusion to help with your headache.”
You’re not sure it’s a smart idea. What if you say something else that makes things weird and awkward? Yet Tamlin doesn’t seem uncomfortable at all. Quite the opposite, actually. And maybe if you stay, if you get the chance to talk with him a little longer, you might find out what else you did last night. If he was so struck by you that he took care of you—and your dress—then your drunk self must have done something right. Hopefully, he won’t be disappointed by your sober self.
“Alright,” you agree with a shy smile. “I can stay for breakfast.”
Tamlin’s smile widens. He takes the shoes from your hand and sets them back on the floor, then offers you his hand.
“Shall we go, then?”
When you accept, his fingers are warm as they envelop yours. He gives them a gentle squeeze before leading you toward the door.
The long hallway outside is less colorful than his bedroom, but just as elegant. Pale green carpets—soft and plush under your bare feet—cover the white marble floor. A few paintings hang on the walls, and pots of small plants and pink flowers line the path to the staircase.
As you walk, Tamlin glances at you. “You know,” he begins with a smirk, “we might not have slept together last night, but we did kiss, though.”
You gasp, almost stopping in your tracks to gape at him. “We did?”
He nods. “Oh, yeah,” he replies, sounding way too pleased with himself. “Too bad you don’t remember that either.”
You are at a loss for words.
You kissed him. Tamlin.
You kissed the High Lord.
It makes sense, you suppose. If you went back to his room together, the intention was obvious. You would have slept together if you hadn’t fallen asleep immediately. Of course you had kissed before that.
You only wish you could remember. It would be nice to know how it feels, to know what his lips taste like.
But maybe… maybe you will.
After all, he invited you to stay for breakfast. Your shoes are still in his room, so you’ll have to go get them before leaving. He is leading you downstairs, his hand warm and steady in yours, his eyes still on you as he smiles softly.
Hopefully, you’ll find out.
“Yeah,” you echo in a murmur. “Too bad indeed.”
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*lovely divider by @slytherin-pen
Taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @lilah-asteria @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch @georgiadixon @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @ivy-34 @yesiamthatwierd @lreadsstuff @littlest-w01f
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on1knee4marksmen · 2 months ago
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Bundle of Joy
Old man Logan x reader
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—☀︎——☀︎——☀︎——☀︎——☀︎——☀︎——☀︎—
Whew,finally!! I've been keeping this thing in drafts for like a week now, all because of school (😠)
This is originally a request from @fluff-lover (I forgot to answer to their ask) :
"I had this idea of Old man Logan and reader living a quiet life in a cabin, and a pregnant dog comes to their door. Reader takes her in and helps her until she's given birth and the puppies are ready for their forever home. Logan has to drive to the shelter with the puppies to drop them off, but knowing Reader got attached he decides to surprise them by bringing home one of the puppies."
I absolutely loved this idea when I read it, so I really really hope this is what you imagined 🤞
Pairing: Old man Logan x reader
Words: 1,6k ish
Description: Look at the ask above,pretty much that + Laura in the picture bc I love her 3000
Warnings: Not many. Couple of swear words + me rambling; excessive use of the word "and" (my bad)
Tags: Fluff, domestic Logan :), reader sees Laura as their daughter, reader gets referred to as Logan's wife (I don't think there are any other lady reader indicators), attachments being formed with puppies (I love animals), Logan being the dad that says 'I don't want any pets' but then being found guilty of snuggling with the dog on the couch💔
A/n: English isn't my first language and I absolutely hate tenses, so lmk if there's anything I should fix :)
—————————☀︎——————————
James Howlett. Jimmy. Logan. Patch. The Wolverine.
How did a man that lived long enough to get called all those names end up here? Driving a limo, owning reading glasses and having to deal with aching bones?
And he's not driving a customer around this time — on the passenger seat next to him is an open box. Full of fucking puppies.
What had happened to get Logan here?
Well, it all started a month ago. You'd just came back to the little cabin you and Logan had the privilege of calling a home – after Charles sadly passed, you'd offered Logan to cross the border along with Laura and build a home. Start anew. And God, who was he to deny you?
So anyways, you'd just come home after work. Logan was, for once, early, already hanging his coat. Laura was on a week-long trip with her class, which left you and your husband some time to spend together, just you and him..
Or so he thought. Upon going back to the front door to great you, he had heard your voice, soft and mumbly, almost cooing at someone. Or something. His usual wrapping his arms around you and welcoming you home with a kiss – he'd do anything to catch a glimpse of that sweet smile of yours, even after all these years – turned into an eyebrow raise and a soft look of curiousity in Logan's eyes.
"Hi, darlin'. ..Who're you talking to?"
Too swallowed up in trying to get the mystery.. individual to follow you in, your head had whipped around in surprise at Logan's words. ...And a tiny smile adorned your features the moment you saw him.
"Lo, you're back early!" You called out, and your arms immediately outstretched, as if it was an automatic reaction to catching his gaze.
Aaand here it was. A man that everyone convinced he was a weapon his whole life, that he was born to kill, was now getting flustered and giddy at the sensation of the beautiful woman he got the privilege to call his wife, planting soft little kisses aaalll over his face. And he wasn't grumpy about it either – he was smiling like an idiot.
But the smile dropped to a surprised part of his lips, his eyes widening, as they got met with a rather interesting sight. As you hugged him,he had the chance to look at whatever was behind your back. And now he realized why you were cooing.
A dog. A not so big, yet not so small dog with glossy eyes and an almost sad look on its muzzle.
And it was kind of..round, too.
And that's when it sort of clicked for Logan. He pulled back, wide eyes looking down at you with astonishment, interest and some disbelief. "Where did uh... Where'd the lil' guy come from?"
It had taken you a while to understand what he was talking about. But some confused looks and a long 'Ooooh!' later, you were already explaining. "The little guy's actually a girl - she's been in the neighborhood for a while now. I gave her leftover meat once, so I guess she came back for more."
A pause. "... She's pregnant." Yeah. Logan could see that. But with the way your voice had softened, he didn't dare tease. "I was.. hoping we could take her in. Help her with the cubs... I mean, she looks really pregnant."
At first, Logan had stayed silent. Stayed skeptical. A stray? And a pregnant one, at that? Who knew what kind of diseases she could be carrying?? And yeah,he couldn't get sick and neither could Laura, but what about you? He couldn't bare anything bad happening to you...
But then, oh, then, he saw that look in your eyes. It's like he couldn't decide which one of you was giving him sadder puppy eyes - you or the literal dog behind you. And then you had given one simple "..please?" And he couldn't resist - he caved.
And so, the one month of taking care of the stray doggo had begun. You'd taken her to the vet to make sure everything was okay, just to ease Logan's paranoia. It had been hard for him to get used to her in the house at first anyway, however - and that was without having Laura around and having to explain to her what she could and couldn't do in order to not scare the poor thing - loud music or yelling wouldn't be a treat for the poor pup, even if Laura didn't do those so often.
It was a change of pace, that's for sure. Having yet another mouth to feed, even if it wasn't that hard to mix dog food with some meat twice a day. Having a four-pawed, big-eyed pet walking around the house, laying on the couch, sleeping on your shared bed...
What he couldn't get used to was having your attention on the pup more than on him.
Some might call it jealousy. It definitely wasn't jealousy.
...It was totally jealousy.
At first,it had stunned you to see Logan more grumpy than the usual. I mean, yeah, he'd barely agreed and yeah, he wasn't used to a pet, moreso a pregnant one, but why was he looking at the damn dog so weird every time you gave it a scratch or cooed at it?
And then it had dawned on you. He wanted head scratches too. Wanted you to coo at him and coddle him. And oh boy, did he get teased.
After you figured out why he was being more of a grump than usual, you got a good laugh out of it, (and you got to see your husband as red as a tomato) but after that, you made sure to give equal attention to both the pup and Logan himself. You made up to him with a looot of kisses, cuddles, even a back massage.
And the problem was quickly resolved.
A week in, Laura got to know the pup as well. After a 5 or so minute talk about pregnant animals and dogs and whatnot, during the whole entirety of which the girl had been silent, Laura asked a pretty good question.
"Does she have a name?"
And it hit you - she didn't.
And then came the next question of your daughter's - "Can I name her?"
That's how the dog ended up with her own name - Bella.
The following three weeks were a new experience for Laura as well, but she seemed to love having Bella around, just as much as you did. She'd help you with her food, offer to come with you to walk her in the evenings, she even tried to get the pup to sleep on her bed once.
But eventually, the time had come for Bella to give birth. You had done all necessary research - whether or not to interfere, how to help, what was normal and what wasn't. When you'd recognised Bella's odd behaviour as going into labour, you immediately scurried to join her side in the corner of your bedroom, crouching down to be closer to her.
After you gained awareness on Logan's little... problem - and solved it - your husband began to warm up to Bella too. You'd begun finding the dog curled up close to him while he read when you came home, he, in turn, had begun to help with her food. He'd stopped complaining about the dog sleeping in your shared bed. He'd even began petting her more than he'd like to admit.
——————————☀︎——————————
What you hadn't expected was for Logan to join your side too.
Bella had given birth with little to no complications - and her pups were just so tiny and so cute! It warmed your heart just thinking about it - the stray you took in had just had eight healthy puppies, eight! And, with the way Bella herself was eagerly trying to lick at your hand when you went to pet her, despite the exhaustion that must've been seeping through her, told you that she was as grateful as ever, too. It made your eyes water, even if you wouldn't admit it.
You and Logan had gladly let Bella stay until her pups were at least four months old. But both you and your husband knew that after they were bug enough, you had to give them to a dog pound - you couldn't feed eight more pups, you couldn't assure they were living their best life.
That time you hadn't hidden the tears. And that time, Logan hadn't said a word as he hugged you. He understood. Because he'd grown attached to the doggo too.
Aaand, back to present - here he was, driving a box full of puppies, lined with newspapers to try and keep the little things as comfortable as possible. Bella was in there too, looking up at him with those big, glossy eyes. It hurt to turn to the right exactly because he knew he'd likely never see her again..
You'd never see her again, either. He knew how sad that made you, and it made him even sadder knowing it. He was going to come home to you, to Laura, to his house, but he'd no longer her the sound of long nails and furry paws hitting the floor. He'd no longer have soft fur to absentmindedly stroke while he reads.
He'd left home with nine bundles of joy in a box, and he'd come home empty-handed.
...At least that's what you thought. Until you saw your husband open the door with one hand. Smiling softly.
(Another) A/n: Thank you so much for the love on my recent fics! I love when you guys leave silly tags when you repost btw, so don't be shy <33
Because his other hand was too busy holding one of Bella's puppies, letting the little bundle of joy get accustomed to its home. Your little bundle of joy.
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lubilli · 2 years ago
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𝗸𝗻𝘆 𝗵𝗰𝘀 ➠ "cutie!"
synopsis: the hashira men when you call them cute/a cutie
ft. rengoku, giyu, sanemi, obanai, muichiro, tengen
warnings: they're all softies here 💔
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r. kyojuro
• he was training while you were watching
• "you're doing so well, kyojuro!"
• he was all blushy cuz u complimented him
• he's used to compliments but it just felt different when you did it
• maybe bc you never really compliment anyone
• and maybe bc he has a praise kink
• "awww, kyojuro, you're such a cutie!" you squealed when you saw the pink dusted all over his cheeks
• his brain almost short circuited
• not even joking
• he's been complimented on his looks before.
• he's been called handsome, good looking, but...cutie? that was a new one
• "kyojuro? are you okay?"
• "yes, y/n! i am completely fine!"
• he said that while his cheeks literally looked like tomatoes
t. giyu
• you just got back from a mission looking half dead
• when giyu saw you, his face literally looked like this -> 😨
• how tf did you even manage to hurt yourself this bad..
• he DEMANDS to patch up ur wounds
• that brings you to your current situation, sitting on giyu's bed while he tends to the wounds
• you winced when he got to a certain cut on your thigh, he glares at you
• "you wouldn't be in this situation if you weren't so reckless, y/n." he scolds you
• you just laugh, "you're cute, giyu."
• it takes him a while before he realizes what you said.
• "did you call me..cute?" he furrows his brows
• "yes..because you are cute."
• continues tending to your wound even though he's literally dying inside
s. sanemi
• he's so aggressive its so hard to find him in a vulnerable state
• ur literally the first hashira to see him all calm
• when he's not screaming and yelling, he's actually really cute
• he loves cooking for you
• he's doing that rn
• "is it good?" he asks
• "it's a little salty..."
• "why can't i ever get this recipe right?!"
• he's so frustrated
• he's tried to cook this one recipe 5 times now but there's always a little too much of a certain ingredient
• you chuckle at his reaction & ruffle his hair
• "you're really cute, y'know?"
• wtf did u just say
• did u just call him cute...
• "WHAT'D YOU JUST CALL ME?!"
• those manic eyes found their way back onto his face
• he's yelling at you but you can see the pink dusted all over his cheeks
• you started calling him cute more often
• acts like he hates it but he literally loves it sm
i. obanai
• you started getting close to him recently
• you found out he actually really likes poetry
• you'll just be sitting under/on a tree and he'll be reading his lil poetry books while you're just dreaming
• you think its so cute when he shows you lil poems he really likes
• "this one reminds me of you" he points to a poem on a page
• you shift your attention from the clouds to his book
• it reads, "A faint clap of thunder,
Even if rain comes or not,
I will stay here,
Together with you."
• bro.
• you died
• why is he so cute sometimes
• scratch that, he's always cute bro
• you smiled so big, "you're really cute, obanai."
• you moved a strand of his long hair and tucked his behind his ears, seeing his beautiful heterochromatic eyes.
• he looked at you with so much love bro
• "cute?" he tilted his head
• "yes, so cute."
• he's a mess but he just nods and continues his reading
• although he literally can't focus bc ur now the only thing on his mind
t. muichiro
• you don't know how you even got close to him
• but he will NOT go cloud-watching without you now
• takes you to his favorite spot
• he just talks abt the clouds while you mess around with his hair
• sometimes braiding it, sometimes doing pigtails or ponytails
• "woah," he stares into the sky with awe
• "what happened?" you ask
• "that cloud looks like a turtle." he pointed
• you looked at it and it really did look like a turtle
• "oh and look, that one looks like a heart." he pointed somewhere else
• wtf hes so cute
• "so cute," you squish his cheeks
• he looks at you dumbfounded
• takes him 4-5 business days to process what you just said
• when he realizes his cheeks flushed pink
• he's literally never felt this before
• wtf type of witchcraft did u put on him
• you tilt your head, "what's wrong, muichiro?"
• "i don't know, but my cheeks and ears feel really warm."
• you laugh, "you really are cute, muichiro." you ruffle his hair.
u. tengen
• you and tengen are close friends
• his estate is like your second house
• started getting close to u bc ur flashy in his eyes
• then he got sent on a few missions with you and your bond grew even more
• anyways you were in tengen's estate rn
• "tengen," you frown
• "hm?"
• "my stomach hurts."
• he frowns, "should i get you a heating pad? do you want water? medicine? chocolate? massage?"
• you smile, "its fine. no need."
• "yes need. i'm not gonna let you endure your pain, y/n. that's very unflashy." he crosses his arms
• "you're such a cutie, tengen."
• he lifts a brow, "cutie? yes, i suppose being a cutie is very flashy." he nods. "now, tell me what you want—heating pad, chocolate, medicine, water, or massage?"
• "you're so stubborn." you shake your head, "but a chocolate sounds nice."
• "done deal. stay here and i'll get you some."
• he came back w some delicious ass chocolate
• "call me that more often. its very flashy."
• "call you what?"
• "cutie."
• you smile, "your wish is my command." you took a bite of the chocolate.
• he pat your head, "get well soon."
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ughdontbeboring · 5 months ago
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bunny
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Ari Levinson X Black/WoC Reader (can be read by anyone)
You’re the new bartender at Ari’s club and tonight you’ve had enough with how the other women treat you but don’t end up fired like you feared.
warnings: Ari lol. Sex. Bullying. Insecurities about weight. Fat shaming.
note: I still have love for Ari but this is the only thing I’ve finished for Ari and probably won’t be writing anything new for him either bc of other hyper fixations taking over my mind 😂 but I hope yall enjoy it and all its errors bc I’m too lazy to fix them. I’m trying to empty out the fics in my notes so the range of characters I’ve been stuck on over the years is crazy 😂 this has been in my notes a month shy of a year 🙃
also reader is always written with a black/woc perspective but no actual description in this one other then weight.
The cool air danced over your exposed skin, working for a night club meant the exposure was necessary. It attracted customers and that usually meant you got good tips. You didn’t mind, you enjoyed finally having a reason to wear pretty things all the time. 
You wasn’t even sure how you got into your current situation, you had been sitting across from your boss’s desk crying. You were so embarrassed when the tears started. Ever since you started the night club the other women working made your  life hell, at first you thought it was initiation but it prolonged week after week. Next week making 4 months you’d been on the clock here and every day you worked was a day you had to deal with their bullshit, they were by far worse than the male customers that tried getting handsy. At least the male customers got dealt with and thrown out. 
Apparently the club really never had much issue with the bartenders getting pushed up on, only the dancers, but when you started that changed. You thought your boss would fire you for the problems it caused at the bar but he just added security around the bar, adding a strict rule about the behavior at the bar and towards bartenders. Mostly you. 
You had ignored the gossip that it was especially for you, that the boss has some fondness for you. It wasn’t true, it couldn’t be. All the beautiful skinny women running around you knew he sure as hell wasn’t interested in you. Yea, you knew you were beautiful, you had eyes you could see your face but you were fuller, more plump than any other woman here. That alone lead you to believe you couldn’t be his type, no other women who looked like you worked here. Didn’t that mean something? 
You was surprised you even got the job, your potential boss did nothing but glare at you while the interview went on. He also told you dancing was off the table for you, but it had to be because you didn’t look like the other women. You were so hurt but did your best to not show it. You needed that extra money dancers got not believing you would do well fully clothed. Who did?
But you were wrong. The men drooled over you so much so the women complained about all the men being at the bar instead of their tables. Which meant you got great tips and more tips than usual since the men wanted to get their own drinks instead of the dancers bringing them to their tables. Men wanted to be around you. 
Through out the long nights you’d always catch your boss glaring down from his offices floor to ceiling windows. It was remote controlled, he could black out the windows when he wanted or have them clear so people could see him. It made your stomach flip at the thought he had wanted you to see him staring. 
Sometimes he’d have you personally bring his drinks up, which caused the men to groan with displeasure at your absence or he’d end the night by coming down personally for his drink when making inventory lists and everyone was gone and the cleaning crews took over. He’d always tip well. So well you didn’t have to work the rest of the week if you didn’t want to, but you did and saved your money like the plan called for. On nights you had the courage you’d asked him questions, simple questions as he sat across from you at the bar.  “How was his day” and such. He’d humor you with short polite answers, a smirk playing on his lips at your failure to hide your nervousness and arousal. You’d always have to clench your legs when you’d finally hear his voice usually for the first time that night and see that smirk. 
Ari Levinson, God he was a menace and the only person in the world you’d let call her some cutesy silly name like Bunny. 
You felt his presence tower over you and your mind finally caught back up to the present moment. You were in his office because one of the other women finally pushed you to the breaking point. You was embarrassed that something to stupid could finally get you to react. 
“What happened Bunny?” He husked while sharp blue stared down at you. 
He was so close, too close, you could hardly focus. You wiped away a stray tear before taking a deep breath. 
“It was nothing” you stuttered out, avoiding eye contact.
“It wasn’t nothing you broke her nose baby, now Bunny I won’t ask again” his voice was demanding but without malice.
You breath hitched as your eyes found his, storm blue ones raging. Though you totally misread it. What you miss took for anger because you let yourself believe the lies was Ari’s control hanging on by a thread. 
You contemplated lying to him.
“Don’t” 
Your eyes widen. Ari had to suppress the groan that fought it’s way up his throat at the sight before him. There you stood, eyes puffy from crying, lips red and swollen from nervously biting them, your teary eyes wide. Fuck that’s how Ari wanted to make you look but because of the pleasure he could no doubt provide. 
“She..she..uh.. she said you only hired me because you felt sorry for me and you would never touch someone as fat as me” you whispered, face hot with anger as you pushed some of curly hair behind your ear. 
As much as it pissed Ari off he couldn’t help the little happiness he felt at the fact that out of all the things he knew the women did to you, that made you react. Yes Ari knew about the way they treated you, this was his club he knew everything, hell he knew everything as he should about is his city. But Ari had wanted you to come to him, maybe it was selfish but he wanted you to need him. 
“And I’m sorry I shouldn’t have reacted that way! It’s just been a lot with them! But please I’m sorry I really need this job and it pays so well I can’t afford to lose it!” 
Ari stared at you while you word vomited in front of him. He was a little disappointed in himself for not thinking of it that way, that you wouldn’t cause a sense or make trouble by asking for help because of how much you needed the job. 
He shook his head at you as his hand grabbed your face softly, his thumb stroking your cheek.
“Shh Bunny, calm down, it’s ok” 
You were too shocked by the gentle caress to really hear his words. 
“That’s not true, not at all” he said.
“It’s not?” You asked not completely convinced, your doubtful eyes searching his.
“No it’s not Bunny” he answered before stepping forward and truly caging you between him and his large oak desk, his hips rolling forward so his heavy hard erection pushed into your silk covered soft belly.
“Don’t you see what you do to me Bunny?” His deep voice groaned wreaking havoc on your nervous system. You gasped at the feel of him.
Of course you suspected he was large but feeling him, it, so strong and heavy against you was something your imagination could never come up with. You could cum just from him rutting into your soft belly. 
Your hand flew to his shoulder to steady yourself and the other to get balance on the desk.
“Their just jealous baby because from the moment you walked your pretty little ass in this club I hardly given any of them a glance” he whispered as his lips ghosted up your jaw to nibble your ear. 
You clenched your thighs as you groaned in his ear. 
“And Emma, well she’s just mad because the last time I did fuck her” he stopped before pulling back to watch your face, you had went ridged under him, your face tight with anger. He continued before you could say something. 
“I called her your name while I came on her” His voice was deep and needy as he confessed to you, some how his thumb had made its way into your mouth pressing down on your tongue while he watched your face. He realized he seemed to love doing that, watching your reactions.
You were slightly angry with yourself for being so turned on. You should be mad he was talking about fucking another women, yet you weren’t. You wanted more than anything to feel what Emma felt but to know it was you that he wanted and it was you he was getting.
“If you want me to stop bunny and I will, just say the words” he told you seriously as he pulled his thumb from your mouth awaiting her answer.
As sure of himself as he was there was still that nervousness deep down in his stomach you would say no. Turn him away because of who he was and what he did. He knew you, had been watching you since you started and you were a good girl, everything he wasn’t. 
But you didn’t. With your eyes locked on his, you opened your mouth licking up the underside of his thumb before pulling it into your warm mouth to suck.
And fuck did Ari think his fucking knees would buckle. 
“Good girl” he replied trying to pull himself together. He was about to cum all over your stomach. 
It earned him a moan around his thumb.
“Now tell me what you want Bunny because if you want me then there is no one else, I do not share” he was serious, he had wanted you from the moment he saw you. Tried to keep you away because of his line of work but he was too selfish a man, he could only hold out for so long. 
You released him with a pop.
“I want you and I want everyone to know especially Emma because neither do I” you said finally showing a more confident side.
Before you knew it his mouth was covering your and he had you on the desk, your skirt lifted and thong covered ass chilled by the cool wood while your legs wrapped around his waist. 
Fuck you couldn’t believe he kissed this good, you didn’t even want to come up for air. 
At this point both your legs were up, ankles sitting on his shoulders, high heel clad feet dangling in the air. Your skirt tucked up around your waist so he could see everything. 
He needed to see everything. He fucking dreamed of this many of nights. 
His cock was free, long and hard. He ran the under side of it between your folds and up over your mound. Over and over again driving you wild as he collected your wetness. 
“Oh fuck Ari please” 
“Please what Bunny?” 
“Please please fuck me!” You whined.
Your body stilled at the intrusion, he was kissing you, running his hand up and down your body, pinching nipples trying to get you to relax just a bit more, he knew he should have worked you up more but he was past that, he had no control left, you were ready enough. 
“Fuck” he groaned out appreciatively once he pushed slightly into you, your gasp ringing out in his ears as your natural manicured fingernails cut into his back. A pain he welcomed. You were so tight, tighter than he could ever dream of and wet, so fucking weak. You were already leaking on his desk. 
A wet dream come true.
It was a few moments and thrust later you started to relax and Ari could really work into you.
“Oh fuck” you moaned out, both hands gripped the edge of the desk while his hands dug into you full round ass cheeks, your bottom hung in the air. Ari the only thing truly keeping you suspended. He loved this position because of how much control he had.
You couldn’t even get your brain to truly function, you’d never been fucked like this. He was fucking you like his own personal toy and he was so so deep. 
Because you weren’t functioning you had never noticed the call he made on his intercom, you didn’t notice the door open behind him, never noticed the blonde staring furiously at the sight before her.
Ari balls deep into the pretty little bartender she hated so much, who got special treatment from the most fear man in the city, the man Emma wanted more than anything. Hell any woman who crossed paths with the blue eyed giant wanted him. 
You didn’t notice until Ari leaned forward pressing into you completely causing you to scream out. Your fingers digging into his back once more, at this angle it was too much, you didn’t understand how he could feel deeper then he already was. 
There she was eyes locked on them, her face red with anger and embarrassment like you had been not to long ago at her hands while she held tissue to her bleeding nose.
Ari cursed, the tightness of you too much, your wetness dripping down his sack and thighs.
“Fuck bunny, tight wet little pussy is daddy’s favorite, you gonna let daddy come in you?” He groaned out feeling both of your ends near. 
Your eyes stayed locked on Emma as your fingers gripped his short hair.
“Oh fuck yes daddy! Please come in me! Fill me up” you moaned out. 
You was sure the whole club could hear over the music and you couldn’t care less.
Your body shook and your eyes roll back as that sweet feeling set her body on fire, Ari stilled after a few hard thrusts that cause his heavy desk to scrape backwards before he roared emptying himself into you.
You squealed as another orgasm slammed into you, the feel of his hot seed sending you catapulting into another one. Your eyes blurred as tears flowed from the pleasure.
When you opened your eyes Emma was gone. You both were breathing heavy when Ari used his hips to thrust you up on the desk a bit more. 
“Oh fuck” you yelled out feeling completely overwhelmed and overstimulated by his softening cock still buried deep inside you.
His hands grabbed your face, blue eyes locking yours in place. 
“Looks like I finally caught you bunny”. 
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pretend-i-don-t-exist · 4 months ago
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figure skater shen yuan bc ive been having dreams
Shen Yuan was a prince of the ice. Graceful, beautiful, talented. He was hailed as a prodigy from a young age, when his father took him to the ice rinks to celebrate his birthday, and his mother, a retired hockey player, noticed how quick he took to the ice. There were lessons, coaches, training. Shen Yuan did not mind. He liked skating; it felt like dancing, flying through with inexplicable warmth in his chest despite the freezing cold.
His family had money, with lots of it set aside for them to spoil him. Where his brothers studied business management and took managerial positions in their grandfather's company, Shen Yuan trained in the ice rink his father gifted him and followed the instructions of the coach his mother chose after rigorous vetoing. He first competed when he was twelve, on a national level. He passed the qualifiers, but failed to make it to the finals. It was a good start, his coach had told him despite the disappointment— he's young, he can always aim for gold in the future.
Shen Yuan's teen years are interspaced with school life and many, many absences in order to focus on skating. He... missed out on a lot, but he never minded. He may not have a best friend, or any close friends at all really, but he did win the Junior Grand Prix at fifteen, and then the World Juniors at seventeen. By then, his coach was pushing him for the Olympics— he'd already reached the minimum age limit.
He didn't win anything at his first Olympics. A year later, and he won gold. For three years in a row, he reigned as the defending champion. He was at his prime, he'd been told. Twenty-one years, and already three gold. Isn't that almost unbelievable? Shen Yuan felt as if he was riding on a high, soft cloud, soaring through the skies without anything to stop him or to cushion his fall.
Because he fell, and he fell hard.
The doctors said there wasn't anything they could do— surgeries, various medications. He quickly deteriorated, especially for someone with his level of activeness snd health. His twenty-second year passed without his feet touching the ice. They never told him directly to his face, but Shen Yuan knew that it was impossible for him to skate again.
He spent his days on a hospital bed. It was painful to scroll through social media and see people talking about how tragic his story is. The many well wishes of his fellow skaters, the ones he talked to and— he supposed— befriended, hurt more than he thought they would. He deleted everything, except his immediate family's contacts, and returned to his old roots: reading.
Webnovels were fun to read. It gave him something to do when he can't muster the strength to stand, reading aimlessly and commenting his thoughts as they were. His family didn't care what he did; they were just happy that he was spirited again, presumably thinking that he'd gotten over his slump. Yet, when the doctors tentatively cleared him for skating, Shen Yuan took his skates, the blades left covered, and hid them deep in the shoe cabinet for him to forget.
He has better things to do now— namely, commenting on the shittiest novel he's ever read and cursing out its author. Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky always had a reply on every of his comments, each with an emoji more nonsensical than the last, and even had the audacity to dm him about how dedicated he is.
Shen Yuan sent him a middle finger.
Then Airplane kept talking to him, anyways. Sneak peeks of fanart he'd commissioned, little tidbits that Shen Yuan hounded him over for not using them in his novel, games that Shen Yuan doesn't quite have the dextrexity to play. It's okay though, becase Airplane was the worst player to ever exist, since he's somehow worse than Shen Yuan when it comes to games.
Then they call, because Shen Yuan never really had the time to internalize what stranger danger means. Shen Yuan, begrudgingly, comes to tolerate the hack author. So, when Airplane's apartment building burned down in an unfortunate fire, Shen Yuan invited him to his penthouse. It's large enough for two. It's not like he's going to use anything else other than his bedroom and the bathrooms. It'd be nice to have someone remind him of when to take his meds, too; it's in the contract for Airplane's stay. A win win for both of them.
Shen Yuan is sure that Airplane wouldn't recognize him as Shen Yuan, the media's darling Tragic Ice Prince. It's been a long time, after all. Until Airplane begins to write a new book that strangely resonates with Shen Yuan a lot, too much even, and Shen Yuan gets a bit too invested on it.
Well, Airplane can stay until he finishes his book. Not a big deal at all.
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xo2dee · 21 days ago
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Hewwo, ive been meaning to ask
But can i request a really angsty oneshot of dante x reader(mutual pining but no one makes the first move cause they scared), where they're both demon hunters in the same organization but a mission goes wrong and reader dies? Its totally fine if you dont want to write it. Just a thought! Thank you for your time <3
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PAIRING: Dante/Reader. WARNINGS: MDNI/18+ ONLY. Major Character Death, Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Blood, Gore. WORD COUNT: 2,111.
A/N: thank you for the request! and anonie you're actually real for requesting this bc this is a high probability of an event happening to dante. and i love angst and hurt with no comfort teehee.
DMC MASTERLIST
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Death and the concept of time were two things he thought about often. Usually when he sat alone at his desk lost in thought before his eyes closed to sleep, Dante’s mind would linger to those two topics and the hands he had in both of them.
And, disturbingly enough, sometimes he only thought about them when you came around.
It wasn’t like he wished death on you – no, far from it, it was more so he worried about the prospect of it happening to you way too much than he would’ve liked to admit or even think about. You were basically his partner (cough… in the coworker sense anyways), some skill you retained from someone else that he maneuvered around to make sure you were in sync on jobs together. It had not been his ideal gameplan to take in a human partner, knowing the consequences if he were ever too get too close to you and something were to happen to you (again…), but you’d been like a magnet for him, and he found it so hard to keep you at a distance in case Dante’s teasing started to become real and then the reason why his heart skipped a beat was you. He just couldn’t help himself, the want and need to retain as much humanity as he could beating him out before he was pining just for one glance from you, and he felt so very pathetic the more it went on.
Seriously… it’d taken some time and some soul searching before Dante got to that point too. 
How long had you and Dante known each other? The answer was simple: a long time; a very, long time, and long enough for Dante to realize he’d made the same mistake again that he’d done over and over.
He’d gotten attached to you – you, a human. And not that there was anything wrong with you being a human or humans in general, but there was one glaring topic about humans as a whole to Dante that made him stray away from getting too attached to them. How easy it was for humans to die – their bodies not built the way Dante’s was and subjected to more harm if they were to be hurt in any way. However, Dante had never been a stranger to that as well; Nell Goldstein’s death still weighed heavy within his mind as he could feel his throat constrict from the memory of the fire as he held her body, but every time he downed a glass of amber whiskey sitting at his desk and his eyes strayed towards the beautiful portrait of his mother perched up just in front of him reminded him why he kept humans at arm’s length and kept them safe from a distance.
Too many enemies he’d made… Too many demons around… Having someone special by his side wasn’t ideal, but Dante found himself keeping you around regardless of the gnawing in his gut that something terrible was on the horizon.
It started with a job, one you’d snatched from his hands with a grin as you read out the letter for his ears to hear, then once you’d done that and announced you’d be joining him, that was when he started to feel nauseous – and Dante did not get nauseous. Maybe it was the details in it that had him twirling a strand of his hair around his finger and him bouncing his knee (not his habit at all), or maybe it was just the feelings speaking for him that was muddling his mind, but he pushed them to the side at seeing your excitement for it and let the stutter in his heart take over what his gut was telling him. It paid well too, and that was enough to give you your pay before he paid for any damages and then blew it on junk food, but that still didn’t quell Dante’s nerves for whatever they were telling him. Instead he focused on you at least, entrapped in your smile and the scent of your shampoo to soothe him for the time being.
And perhaps… that had been the issue in itself – he was too distracted.
The job was easy enough as well, almost boring if he was being serious with himself, yet that itch was ever so persistent. He kept his eye on you of course, watching you move nearly flawlessly from the corner of his eyes, multitasking like he usually did before it got too hectic for him to keep you in his line of sight. Hordes of demons were the worst, especially when they liked teleport and had more speed than strength, but you were a good enough demon hunter by yourself so he was normally eager to let you do your own thing – yet, even as he grunted and flipped the Rebellion around in his hands until the blade embedded itself into throat of another, something told him to not look away.
However, even he had to maintain his focus when fighting demons. Especially when he decided to eventually turn his back to despite all the warnings his instincts had been giving him. He was never one to ignore them, but he was also one to keep you as a safe and protected as he could, so he figured if turning his back to you for just a moment to clear the area of what he could to keep them off your back, it was a better alternate and a way to quell the sickness brewing within his gut. Maybe if just a for a moment, he could stop the unease ripping into his throat.
And so, Dante turned his back to you, taking his eyes off of you for just a few moments to clear the path of any heading your way. And he learned that he been another of his greatest mistakes.
Dante hadn’t been looking when it happened, Ebony’s rounds embedded into the skull of one demon as he gutted another with the Rebellion, but something awful cracked in his ears before he heard it – a nasty slick, like flesh being opened unwarranted before the gurgled whimper reached his ears next, then the nausea from before heightened tenfold when he smelt it. Blood… Through all the demonic innards spattered across the pavement, the scent of the forest in the sky, and then the lingering scent of your shampoo, he could smell blood. And it wasn’t just anyone’s blood – it was human blood.
Your blood.
“Shit.”
An understatement of a reaction at best, but Dante was thinking it was only a scratch from a talon too deep making it bleed, and once he’d disposed of them all in an irritated gait full of speed and a raw display of strength before he got to set his sights on you, he realized how big an underreaction it actually had been. You’d still managed to put up a fight against the demon that had attacked you, and through all the blood and the viscera spattered along the ground, Dante’s dread and fear grew to an all time high once he noticed the position of your body and the demon you had managed to kill in the process. And then he understood just why the scent of your blood had been so strong…
The claws had all but shredded through your abdomen enough plunge past your organs and carve out your spine, effectively impaling you – effectively destroying you. The noise he had heard had been the demon attacking you, and you hadn’t even screamed the slightest bit when it happened… but Dante was sure the crack in his ears had been the sound of your spine breaking in half when it’s hand embedded itself way too deep and too hard through you. You were a goner before he even realized it, but Dante was too hard-pressed to get to you as he kicked the corpse of the demon away from you the moment he was near and folded you into his embrace. He was on autopilot for the moment, but the mere seconds later he could feel death’s embrace already begin to chill your skin.
With you cradled in his arms he watched the gurgle of blood spit up from your mouth as you tried to speak, wincing himself at the wet sound from your throat before he tried to reassure you, “Hey, hey, hey, you’re alright…” It was lies, and even with how fast he was, Dante would never make it in time to get you help… Not with he rate that you were bleeding and the severity of your injury. You were nearly… in half… A feat he could pull himself together from, but not one you could do.
A wet cough spat a round of blood onto his shirt, making him lean back onto the tree behind him as he slid to sit and to make you any more comfortable before you sighed and rolled your head against his chest with slowing breaths. “Dante… I can’t feel my legs.”
Maybe it was then he understood the gravity of the situation, then he felt the sting in his eyes before it was rapidly blinked it away in favor of looking at what he had done head-on. If only he had gotten to you in time… you wouldn’t be bleeding out dying in his arms, looking up at him with a smile that shouldn’t have looked as warm as it felt for his heart. He could only sigh as his heart stuttered in a song of melancholic familiarity, resting his cheek atop your head as he pulled further into his body – almost hoping the heat from his body would give you some type of comfort. “I know.”
You hummed, and surprisingly had enough strength to place your hand over his for your own sense of comfort as you started to speak a little quieter, “I don’t regret anything.”
Your hand was cold, and your heartbeat was slowing down. Dante closed his eyes, savoring the scent of your shampoo and the sound of your heartbeat for one last time. “I know.”
“And it’s not your fault…” He had no answer for that, not trusting himself enough to say the right thing for you in the moment of lasting need, and he couldn’t bring himself to tell you just how wrong you were. Though when he didn’t answer you for a few seconds, you sighed again and the hold you had on his hand slightly loosened as you head began to sag in its spot. It would only be moments before you were gone… However, you had one last parting gift that completely shattered him and his heart and ruined his outlook for the rest of the time he was alive. “Dante, know that I’ve loved you for a long time.”
He couldn’t help the shaky laugh at the confession, heart shattered and mind elated at the same time for the recuperation of his hidden feelings that he had been too late to give. Perhaps it was his bad luck in the end, or maybe he was the universe’s cosmic plaything, because as gratifying as it was to hear that come from you, he couldn’t help but hate himself in the end for it. “How cruel… Leavin’ a man like this.”
Your last breath was wet, ragged, and soft as he heard the smile in your voice before you left him from the presence of one final joke. “You can forgive me… can’t you?”
Always. “…Yeah.”
Your body went lax the moment he said it, the finality in the beat of your heart a sound that would haunt him in his nightmares for the rest of his life as he could only pull you closer and hold you for the first time… and the last. You were human. Maybe it was to be expected, or maybe that’s what he got for getting involved into humans lives instead of keeping them safe from a distance. Death followed him everywhere, no one was safe. Dante only sighed as the sting in his eyes tightened his throat with them, not sure how long he would stay there with you until he was ready to carry you back, before he swore off any more attachments in the future. Not when he’d lost the one person he’d found and loved – and loved him back. Then again, it was his fault… Wasn’t it?
He only looked to the night sky, the stars in their betrayal beautiful before a lone one seemed to die out, taking you and the entirely of Dante’s heart with it.
And I love you too. Always.
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weneeya · 1 year ago
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hi!hi!!! this is the same person who requested tht office romance w/ kuroo last time hehe. i love your writing style so much bc its easy for someone like me (who has a deteriorating brain functioning system from all of the brainrot ive been influenced by the internet) to understand and imagine in my silly deluional head XDDD anyways !! id like to request dad! headcanons for the black jackals (specifically, hinata, sakusa, atsumu and bokuto^^) omg maybe a scenario where they find out that reader is pregnant then proceed with the headcanon with how they act with the kid/s i just needed to request this bc my baby fever has been progressively getting worst and i just cant stop thinking abt kids :']] GOODLUCK AND I WISH U WELLLL !!! <3333
baby fever m.list | rules
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pairing. msby x reader
characters. hinata, atsumu, sakusa, bokuto
note. omg thank you sm I'm so happy you loved the one with Kuroo because i loved writing it sm!! and i probably the idea even more because omg the boys as dads?? it's genius idk why i've never did it before! i hope you'll love it just as much <3
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Hinata
You had been trying to have a baby with Shoyo for a few weeks already, but it was like fate was against the two of you because you seemed to not be able to end up pregnant. You were slowly starting to lose hope ; thank God Hinata was way too positive and optimistic to even think about the worst. It was helping you, in a way. 
He was at the gym to train for their next matches when you learned the good news. You didn’t hesitate twice before almost rushing to join him. He was talking with his team, most specifically Bokuto, when you arrived like a fury. Shoyo looked at you with a big smile and you waved at him. He came to you in no time. 
“You seemed happy. What’s the news?” He asked with his usual smile, and you almost felt the tears in your eyes. You took his hands between yours, trying not to talk too loudly. “We did it Shoyo! I’m pregnant!” And your words didn’t get the time to fall in the silence. 
Hinata held you tightly between his arms, carrying you off the ground and spinning around with you in his arms. Right after your feet finally met the floor again, he cupped your face with his hands to kiss you. “I told you, we needed to be patient!” And you were sure that the rest of the team was going to learn the news sooner than later. 
good with children ; he has a little sister after all 
always so patient no matter what 
not the type to ever yell, so when he get to angry mod, the kid stop immediately 
will talk a lot about highschool and his friends ; so proud 
take pictures all the time, videos too ; a lot of memories of your baby boy 
ready to take a break from volleyball so he could give all his time to you and the baby
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Atsumu
Saying that Atsumu was scared of having children was an euphemism. The man was absolutely terrified by the idea. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to have a child with you, of course not ; it was just the responsibilities which were so stressful for him. He kept acting cool at first but after some time you’ve been able to understand what was going on inside of his mind. 
Until you’ve been confronted with reality. You were alone in the bathroom, and Atsumu was waiting for you right outside of the room. Things were a bit weird with your body lately and you both noticed it. So it wasn’t so surprising that you took a test just to be sure. 
You got out of the bathroom, and your gaze met Atsumu’s eyes. You slowly showed him the test, and he could quickly read the answer he was waiting for. You were pregnant. He looked back at you, and he saw that you were about to say something he didn’t want to hear from you. 
“Don’t ever say you're sorry,” he started, slowly caressing your cheek with his thumb. “It’s the best news you could have told me. Because we’re going to have the most beautiful baby ever, and I’m going to love you two until the end of my days.” This time, you couldn’t really help the tears which felt down your cheeks. You closed your eyes, and he left a kiss against your forehead. 
“I love you,” you told him in a whisper, and he couldn’t help but to smile slowly. “I love you too,” was his answer before he held you tight between his arms. He was scared, of course ; but he couldn’t be happier at the same time because God knew how much he loved you. 
the man is an overprotective mother ; almost like he was the one who bear the baby 
careful about absolutely everything 
acts cool but stressed when something doesn’t go as planned 
girl’s dad at 100% 
loves to be considered as a princess ; will wear a dress and a tiara 
bringing gifts all the time, especially when away because of volleyball
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Sakusa
You already talked about having children with Sakusa, but the conversation was never ending well. In fact, it always ended up in an argument. Your partner was completely closed at the discussion and you couldn’t understand why. 
So when you learned that you were actually pregnant, fear ran over you. You cried a lot, for a long time. How were you supposed to say this to him? Was he going to leave you? You were so scared, and it was messing with your poor mind. 
Sakusa came home after practice, and he found you in your bed, curled up in the blanket to hide yourself. A sigh left his lips before he took place right beside you after being ready to do so. “What are you hiding from me? Don’t say nothing, I know you too well. There’s something wrong.” 
You looked at him and he frowned immediately when he saw the redness of your eyes. You had been crying for quite a while, so he knew he was right ; even if he hoped to be wrong. He slowly caressed your cheek, waiting for you to find the strength to tell him. 
“Kiyoomi… I’m pregnant…” You told him in a little voice, and his eyes widened almost right now. He blinked a few times, and you looked away, feeling the tears coming back. “I know, we talked about it, but I…” 
Sakusa grabbed your chin with all the softness in the world, making you look back at him. He left a small kiss against your lips. “I couldn’t be happier, my love, I swear.” It was your turn to stay silent, all blinking. This is how you learned that the only reason behind Kiyoomi’s anger towards pregnancy was actually fear because of all the complications. 
But if it was for you, he was ready to take the risk. Because having a baby with you was all he could dream of. You just needed to be careful. 
biggest girl’s dad ever 
will do anything for his baby girl ; even if it meant going out with ribbon in his hair 
discreet about his private life but when he sees you two during his matches? can’t hide much longer 
completely devoted but still know how to be a little strict 
wants his child to have the best education so he’s careful about everything 
get scared every time the baby is just a little sick 
overly protective ; especially when it comes to boy close to his girl
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Bokuto
He was made to be a father, you were sure about it. He loved children so much, there was no way he wouldn’t be happy to learn that you were pregnant. But it was still pretty stressful for you, because you were never sure of anything with Bokuto. 
Today was the day, because he was finally coming back home after being away with his teams for a few weeks. You couldn’t announce this to him on the phone so you had to wait for him to come back. When he entered your shared apartment, he had a huge smile on his lips. Being able to finally reunite with you was all he could ask for. 
You were sitting on the couch, and he almost immediately jumped on you. As the yapper he was, he started to talk about his trip and everything that happened. But you seemed lost in your thoughts, and he noticed it quickly. 
“What’s wrong babe?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. You met his gaze and a sigh left your lips. “I have something to tell you,” you started, and Bokuto slowly frowned his eyebrows. Something was weird, and he didn’t like it at all. He stayed strangely silent while you were trying to find the right words to tell him the news. 
Another long sigh left your lips before you finally decided to say it out loud. “I’m pregnant, Kou.” And the silence after that was long. Too long for you, and you started to worry. Until a huge smile appeared on his lips. He grabbed your hands, eyes wide. “We’re expecting a baby? Really?” 
It was like all your worries fled away at this exact moment, and you slowly nodded with a smile on your own lips. “Yes, we’re expecting a baby.” Nothing could go wrong if it was with Bokuto after all. 
neither a girl’s dad or a boy’s dad ; just devoted and obsessed with his children 
had probably cry more than you when he saw your baby for the first time 
it’s like the accomplishment of his entire life 
not really the strict parent ; doing half of the stupidities with your boy 
will obviously teach him volleyball at the youngest age 
always playing with your son when he can ; doing his best to be as present as possible 
will show him to the camera during his interviews after a match 
always talking about you or the baby to everyone ; really the proudest 
a kid himself so obviously he know what to do to make the baby boy laugh 
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thank you for reading!
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honeybeefae · 21 days ago
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literally squealed when i saw your new post!!! i missed u sm, you made some of my all time favorite acotar fics ❤️❤️❤️ if you’re in the mood to, can i request a cassian fic where him and reader get into this big fight that lasts for a while bc theyre both stubborn as hell but then they make up for the lost time hehehe 🥵🥵 thank you!!!
I am SO sorry it has taken me this long to get to this ask. I wanted to start writing again, and then I lost my spark, but I am trying so hard to find it. This is also the first time I have written smut in several months, so I hope this encompasses everything you were looking for! <3  Warnings: 18+, Fighting (both verbal and literal, but the literal is a training session, don’t worry), SMUT, Rough Sex, Bloody Nose, Blood kink if you squint??
Shut Up and Kiss Me (Cassian x Reader)
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A week. It had been one week since this stupid fight with Cassian had begun. A week of cold shoulders, backs turned in bed, harsh words, and even harsher glares. The argument hadn’t even been that big in nature, more of a disagreement, but with how stubborn the two of you were, it had grown into a monster. You were calmly discussing the advantages of ground attacks over air ones, which, unbeknownst to you, struck a deep chord with the Illyrian General. It wasn’t that you weren’t in support of air tactics, as they could be extremely beneficial. However, you personally wouldn’t put it on par with ground warfare. Cassian had vehemently disagreed with you. It was playful at first, citing your lack of wings to your lack of knowledge about how air strikes worked, but when you stood stubbornly on your opinion, so did he. And now it was affecting everything. The House of Wind was tense as your loved ones walked on glass around the two of you. They had tried to help, of course, appeasing both of your stubbornness and saying how you could both be right, but it didn’t work. It almost got Rhys’s ass kicked, actually. So now here you were making your morning tea in the kitchen with your back turned to your mate who was making his morning drink. The sun was out, starkly contrasting with your moods, and a slight breeze was outside. An entirely too beautiful morning that begged to be taken advantage of with a flight. You bit your tongue, refusing to be the first one to break. Cassian slammed the sugar down a little too harshly on the counter, muscles in his bicep tense. “Are you trying to break all of our kitchenware?” You muttered as you placed it back in its proper place, rolling your eyes. “Just because you are angry doesn’t mean you take it out on the poor canister.” “Are you trying to break all of our things because an easy solution would be to deal with tension, wouldn’t you agree? Or is that too difficult for you?” He snarked back, leaning against the countertop in a simple pair of lounge pants. “I have no idea what you are talking about.” The words were as sharp as steel as they left your lips while you shrugged a careless shoulder. “Mmm, I’m sure you do because it has been eating you alive as much as it has me. You just have a terrible habit of never admitting when you are wrong.” Cassian pointed out with a glare. “Oh, I have no trouble admitting when I am wrong, but I can’t remember anything I have been wrong about lately.” You replied coyly, pressing a finger against your chin as you pretended to think. “Nope, nothing comes to mind.” The Illyrian suddenly pushed up and stalked towards you, using his height to his advantage as he stared you down. “You can give opinions all well and good, but what you have never been in is an actual war, and what you have also never done is flown, so why would you be right about this?” He asked in exasperation, crossing his arms over his chest. “Ground fighting is important, but it is not always feasible. Air is.” “I can literally think of several times when air is not right-” You argue only to be cut off when you are suddenly yanked out of the kitchen and dragged to the balcony. “Cassian, don’t you dare!”
Your shouts are drowned out as he pulls you into his body and takes off towards the sun, purposely dipping down to make your stomach flip before he extends his wings and starts soaring up. Despite your anger towards him, you can’t help but let out a small laugh, clutching onto him and inhaling his scent as he takes you to the training grounds on the top of the mountain. “What’s the matter, sweetheart, scared of a little wind?” He growls into your ear, a little too smug, to which you dig your fingernails harshly into his arms. Cassian just laughs. The two of you land, and you feel the familiar ground of the ring underneath your bare feet. Cassian had taken you up here plenty of times before, always wanting you to be able to protect yourself and also to spend time with him. This was a big part of his life, and when you got to share it with him, even if you weren’t actively training, it made him feel a sense of warmth inside. “I’m calling your bluff, princess.” Cassian taunts you, standing on the other side and leaning against the corner with a practiced ease. “You try to fight me from down here, and I’ll fight you from up there.” “Cass, come on, you know-” You begin, but quickly swallow your words when he bends forward on his knees, giving you a fake pout. “Oh no, can you not back it up? Are you admitting that I was right and you were wrong? Poor little-ah!” Cassian’s mockery is quickly silenced when you launch yourself at him, striking right by his ribs and making him promptly launch into a defensive position you easily counter. “Now who's wrong?” You jeered, grinning as the two of you started to roughhouse. It wasn’t hard to see that he was taking it easy on you, but even his easy was your difficult. Punches were thrown, elbows were jabbed, and at one point, you had even clung onto his ankle and tried to use your body weight to bring him down. You weren’t going down easily, and despite this all stemming from a pent-up frustration, you were having fun. So, color you surprised when Cassian doesn’t dodge the way you thought he would go, and his nose cracks against your foot.
“Oh my stars!” You gasp, immediately cradling his face as blood gushes from the impact. “Cassian, I am so sorry, I thought you were going the other way! I never meant to hurt you! Stars, are you okay?” Cassian nods, laughing, as he grabs a towel that had been left behind from the last session and holds it to his nose. You watch him with furrowed brows, nervously bouncing from foot to foot as he tries to stop the bleeding. After only a minute of tense silence, he brings the towel away to reveal that the bleeding has stopped. You let out the breath that you had been holding, stepping forward to once again apologize, only to choke on your words when you are suddenly pinned against a nearby boulder. “Cass!” You chide him, resting your hands against his sweaty chest to try and push him away. “You need to take it easy, I’m pretty sure you just lost half your-” Before you could continue, he kisses you passionately, the coppery taste of his blood mixing with your saliva. His hands grab your waist, spreading you so that your heat is resting on one of his muscular thighs. “Do you know how hot that was?” Cassian mumbles against your skin as he kisses his way to your ear, capturing the lobe roughly between his teeth. “To have you land such a blow, even if it was me on the receiving end?” “I didn’t mean for it to hit you!” You hiss, his stubble scraping against the sensitive skin of your neck as his lips move down. “I don’t care. I don’t care about my nose, I don’t care about our fight,” He moans as your hips move on their own, your panties embarrassingly damp from his kiss alone as you grind down on his thigh. “The only thing I care about is fucking you until we both tap out.” You could feel how hard he was as he turned you around so that your front was now pressing against the rock, rutting against your ass for just a moment before he kneels and rolls off your leggings. The morning air was cool against your bare skin, making goosebumps rise, when you felt his large hands grope your ass. “I can’t believe you were so stubborn that you kept this pussy away from me for a week…” Cassian grunted, although you could hear the slight desperation in his voice, spreading your cheeks apart to reveal your glistening sex. “I wasn’t, fuck,” You stop in your reprimand when he smugly runs two fingers down your folds, circling your clit just long enough to make your hips buck to search for more friction. A glare is sent his way over your shoulder. “I wasn’t stubborn, you were the one who wouldn’t yield.” “Unfortunately for you, retreating is not in my nature.” He smirks, eyes entirely focused on your lower half. “But I think it might be in yours soon enough.” And as much as you wanted to continue the banter, continue the fight, one swipe of his tongue made your mind go blank. Two swipes had your fingers gripping the rock in front of you. Three swipes and you were moaning out in defeat. “Cass…” You groan, eyes shutting at the feeling of him eating you out from behind. His hands were still cradling handfuls of your ass in them while his tongue flicked your swollen clit. The sensation made you want to move away and closer, your mind playing tug of war with your pride. 
Your mate seemed to be in heaven as he drank and slurped all your juices with a grin, his hums and grunts coming from below as he skillfully added a finger to your clenching hole. It made you squeak, which was followed quickly by another moan, this time your body winning out to arch your back in a silent command for more. Stars, you missed this. Missed him. What were you even arguing about anyway? Cassian pulled back to admire your begging form, the lower half of his face shiny as he tuts teasingly and says, “Look at you, already soaked and desperate. Tell me, princess, tell me what you want.” It was on the tip of your tongue. If he had taken even a minute longer to eat you out, he would’ve gotten the white flag he wanted. But you weren’t done yet. Before he could blink, you had turned around to face him, grabbed the bun on the top of his head, and shoved him back, face-first, into your eager sex. “I want you to admit that this ‘soaked and desperate’ pussy has you whipped, General.” You smirk, throwing your head back in ecstasy when he buries even deeper and begins to feast. One of his hands grabs your thigh and pulls it so your leg hangs over his shoulder, exposing even more of your glistening cunt for him to lick. The hand in his hair tightened and pulled, guiding him to the exact spot you needed him. Moaning filled the training yard as he brought you intense, toe-curling pleasure. “Fuck, fuck, Cass!” You chanted, your lower half grinding down as you chased your fast-approaching release. Familiar fluttering in your core made your spine tingle and eyes roll back as he started spearing two fingers into you, the loud squelching only spurring both of you further. His lips latched around your nub and sucked roughly, the painful sensation pushing you over the edge. “Ohhh!” You cried out, two hands now in his hair as you rolled your hips through the waves of your orgasm. Cassian grabbed two fistfuls of your ass, holding you as close as possible to him as he drank down what you gave him. You had only just slumped back against the cool boulder when you felt yourself being turned back around. Cass unlaced his pants with one hand while the other fisted into your hair, shoving his leathers down to mid-thigh before he started rubbing his hot, leaking cock against you. “Fuck, look at you…” He grunted into your ear, nipping the earlobe as he forcefully spread your legs. “Please, Cassian, please-” The words die in your throat when he thrusts into you all at once, both of you groaning loudly. He gave you no time to recover as his hips started pistoning in and out of you. He used his grip to force your cheek against the rock, his teeth and lips trailing hotly down your neck and shoulder as he fucked you how he wanted. Hot, fast, and rough. The entire week of frustration was currently being taken out on you, but you liked it, craved it. You had just enough of a sound mind to wiggle one of your arms between you and the stone, finding your sore clit and abusing it even more as you chased a second orgasm. Cassian seemed to know what you were doing, his pupils nearly swallowing his iris as he bit down on your shoulder harshly. 
“You’re such a needy girl, aren’t you, baby?” He taunted into your ear, nearly breathless. “So greedy…” His words fell on deaf ears as you were solely focused on how well he was fucking you and the growing tension in your stomach. With every thrust, your mate was kissing your cervix, and it was delicious torture. You could tell he was getting close to his finish as well, his pace starting to falter slightly. “Do you yield?” Cassian asked, pulling back just enough to catch your eyes. A beat of silence and then, with a slight nod, you yield. The grin on his face can only be described as feral as he fucks you both until you cum with a cry, drenching the both of you with your combined juices as he follows you into oblivion. Your legs are jelly at this point, and it was only by his body that you were being held up. Small aftershocks of pleasure kept making you whimper as you felt his seed hot inside of you, leaking down your legs. He trails kisses back up to your face and, after a moment of collecting himself, slowly pulls out. Cassian is there to catch you when you inevitably fall backward, bringing you to rest on his chest as he holds you close. The two of you sit there on the mountaintop, cradling each other while you come back to the ground. “Fuck…” You murmur into his skin, too blissed out to care about the mess all over both of you. “We should fight more often.” Cassian jokes, laughing when you clumsily try to hit his face. He grabs your hand and kisses your fingers, pressing his forehead against your own as he sighs in contentment. “You know I love you, don’t you?” “Yes,” You nod, nuzzling into him. “But I think you love being a pain in my ass even more.” He gently grabs your chin and tilts your head so he can kiss you properly before whispering with a wolfish grin, “Just a bit.”
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moneymartin · 1 year ago
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okau i know u already did these but can u do more nsfw hcs for nika???
✧.* - smutty nika hcs
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warnings: this whole thing is literally smut sooo… 18+
afab!r
a/n: im havin fun with these ngl… if anything is repeated from the og hcs im sorry!!!! got carried away and some of my thoughts r sprinkled around here
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MUNCHHHHHH
she gets off on eating you out i swear
nika got a pussy eater jaw too
i think its because you squeeze your thighs around her head
she likes it
i said this the last time but your pleasure matters more to her than her own
100% a titty girl like i can see it
LOVE LOVE LOVESSS THEM
like during sex she’ll cup them any chance she gets
an ass girl too
stares at em in public w no shame and grabs at your butt when she can 😭
veryyy vocal
lots of huffing and puffing when it comes to her
whiner and whimperer when she hears you getting more comfortable abt the noises you’re making
loves when you moan her name don’t even get me started
grunts too fosho
i think she’d talk in croatian too and it turns you AWNNNNNNNN
“ljubavi” “moj anđele” “dušo” “dobra cura”
dirty talks in croatian too but idk how to translate that.
she’d dom half of the time but if you wanna dom she’ll gladly oblige
strap game is crazy
totally does that thing where she teases you really slowly then js plunges into you
😩😩😩😫
never rough unless asked but if she’s angry or upset she’ll go WILLDDDDD
call me crazy but she’d def like it if you bit…
i think she’d be the hardest teaser ever
esp in public.
if you’re really feeling it when you two are out she can tell
its like her superpower
uses it against you too cs she doesn’t wanna let you get it easy
her fingers are running up and down your thighs and shes always getting sooo close it fucks you up every time
she gets you WET w one touch its actually crazy
if you were touch deprived it’d be even worse too like if she brushed her lips up against you and breathed on your skin js a lil you’d FREEAK
freak as in you’d be SOOOOAKKED
please tell me you guys think she’d wanna film sex tapes
JUST FOR YOU TWO ONLY THO
she a secret freak for those
i think arguments would lead into rlly fucking hot angry sex
but she initiates the intimacy first after bc she knows you’re def not gonna be in the mood to do so
honestly it starts w really small touches to the arm while you two yell back and forth
the next thing you know you two are fucking on the kitchen counter 😭
or she has to literally manhandle you onto the bed and fucks you there instead 🥸
uses the strap durin that too u can’t tell me otherwise
i think if you got really horny in public out of nowhere she’d take care of it for you IMMEDIATELYYYY
the family restrooms.
or the car
CAR SEX IS HER THINGGGGG ALSO
you guys could be in the car while on a roadtrip and she’ll find a way to sneak a hand onto you to make you feel good 🤫
def eats you out in the backseat too
say its your first time
definitely takes it as slowwww as you need her to be
offers to just use her hands or something first so that you get used to it
but if you wanna like go rlly far for the first time she’ll do it for sure as long as you’re comfy
she loves when you touch her abs it turns her on 😫
makes you ride em for sure cs she fucking loves when they’re glistening in your cum
makes you lick it up CLEAN after too w your tongue
WOW WHATS WRONG WITH ME OMG
she’s a switch
power bottom and soft dom
super slow when she tops you
but she lovesss when you’re riding her strap too its her fav thing next to the ab riding
ouhhhh she loves eye contact
her eyes r so beautiful like
they get all predatory when she’s fucking you its so sexy
also when she gives you the fuck me eyes i think she means it in the opposite way
meaning she wants to fuck you
cowgirl is her fav position don’tttt play
again shes a titty girl
she loves looking at them bounce.
she doesn’t bother to get fully undressed cause it shows she cares more about you
okay im done thanks.
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sequoiathinker · 7 months ago
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giggling thinking about the ice skater!au where reader was patrick's partner first but after a nasty fight or maybe bc the coach simply wanted to change things up, reader's new partner is switched art (inspired by this tiktok https://www.tiktok.com/@bella_and_the_beast_/video/7397300646376000799 )
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Art steals you from Patrick
Pt.2
You don’t know how excited I am about this!!!! Even though my two ice skater au's take place in different universes l'm going to do this in its own a maybe even make it a thing.
Also, Bella and Ivan gave me the idea for the ice skater in the first place! Art au and I'm happy I'm not the only one who sees it.
Being on the ice used to be your favorite thing in the world, and it couldn't get any better because you were on the ice with your favorite person, but that's different now.
You started skating with a partner, Patrick, when you were a teenager. Patrick was the boy that every girl had a crush on, and for many of those girls, he made their dreams come true until he met you.
Patrick had a crush on you but would never tell anyone because skating was more important than risking his professional relationship with you. However, he would tell his best friend, Art. Art and Patrick have been competing against each other their whole skating careers but were as close as two friends could be. Unfortunately, Art could never beat Patrick no matter how hard he tried, so when Patrick started competing with a partner, it was a relief for him.
The two boys stopped spending as much time as they used to because Patrick was practicing with you at the same time as art, and they both noticed that. So sometimes, if one was free while the other was practicing, they would go and watch one another. But what Art didn't expect was Patrick's new skating partner to be the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.
The first time Art met you, he was almost speechless, and when he could speak, he stumbled over his words. Eventually, he was able to introduce himself, but he looked like an idiot the whole time.
You couldn't lie—you thought Art was extremely cute, but you liked Patrick, so you would never go out with Art unless Patrick was out of the picture.
After you met Art, he started showing up to your and Patrick's practice more often, so he was there more often than not. You thought it was because he was Patrick's best friend and loved the sport, and yes, that was true, but there was also more than that.
Art lover watching you skate and how much you loved it.
One day, Patrick didn't show up to practice but didn't tell you or Art that he wasn't coming until you called him. He said he couldn't make it, so Art saw the opportunity and ran with it.
Art had watched you, and Patrick skate so much that he knew your routine by heart. So he offered to step in Patrick's place so you could at least get some practice time in, and because you saw no harm in it, you agreed.
Once you two got on the ice, it felt like you two should have been skating partners instead of Patrick and you. It just felt so right yet so wrong because Art wasn't Patrick. Art was the farthest thing from Patrick as you could get.
Art looked and touched you differently than Patrick did; it felt real. This feeling lasted till you two were done practicing. After packets was over all you could think about was the way after was the way Art looked at you and the way his hands felt on your body. You never felt these things before in your many years of having Patrick as your partner.
After getting off the ice, you started to feel awkward because you knew the grass was greener on the other side, but you didn't even want to truly admit it to yourself.
After that day, you didn't see art for a while because you were low-key hiding from you.
Eventually, you and Patrick got back on the ice together again, and it felt off as much as you tried to ignore it.
It was even to the point where Patrick felt something off as well. You would brush off every time he tried to dig deeper, but you were good at lying to him, so eventually, he stopped.
After you thought you were getting back into a groove with Patrick, Art showed up at one of your practices.
Usually, when Art comes and watches, you typically greet him with a big wave or even a hug, but this time, you stare like a deer in headlights.
You tried your hardest to act like art wasn't there, but it wasn't happening. You kept slipping and messing up and letting your nerves get to you.
You had no idea what you were going to do, but one thing you did know was that you were doomed.
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I only have one more request the finish but I need to do some research so please send request my way
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