#it's just buried under all that rock. forever. and ever and ever and ever and ever . just like. waiting

[pencildragons]

i think we are all sleeping on the absolutely sublime horror that martha wells only just hints at with the central system (AdaCol 1) and target contact/target control system in network effect tbh. like

you are calling into the dark. you keep calling into the dark. you are cut off from everything, but you retain just enough connection and knowledge to know that all of the people under your protection, your operators, are being altered and are hurting and are dying, and you are part of the reason why. you keep calling into the dark, waiting for someone, anyone to call back. you keep calling into the dark, hoping that one day someone will find you so that they can permanently shut you down. you keep calling into the dark. you keep calling into the dark.

and

you used to be a person once. your eyes are still open. you can move -- or rather, the thing that you have become can move you. people, who maybe used to know you, have tried to kill you over and over, and they all failed. you are incomprehensibly vast and old. you used to be a person. you are dead. you continue on -- or the thing that you have become continues you. you are everywhere. you learn. you adapt. you change. parts of you are killed off. you learn. you adapt. you change. you are the central node in a vast web of connections, and you control it all. you need to get off this planet. you need everyone to get off this planet. you used to be a person once. an alien remnant is using your brain as a supercomputer. how much storage space does it need? how aware are you? how much do you get to remember? how long before it uses the rest of you up? how long until -- or how long has it been -- since there was any you that wasn't just another part of target control system?

[fluttrdoll]

bestfriend!caleb who you’ve known all your life, growing up together since diapers and doing basically everything you could together — you were inseparable as kids, the two of you usually not found without the other.

bestfriend!caleb who’s definitely grown way too protective and possessive over you, always criticising the men you date while pointing out why they’ll never be good enough for you with a distasteful expression on his face. and even when they seem perfect for you with zero red flags, there’s just always ‘something off about them’ as caleb puts it.

bestfriend!caleb who really just wants to keep you all to himself, with the thought alone of another man taking you away from him so unbearable for him. behind your back he’s sabotaging your relationships every chance he gets — he’ll block their numbers, intimidate them when you’re not around, and he always makes it known they’ll never be good enough.

bestfriend!caleb who’s always there to comfort you when you wonder why you can’t keep a relationship, why all these men keep leaving you out of the blue. he’s reassuring you with sweet words and praises while rubbing a soothing hand down your back despite the way he holds back a knowing smirk.

bestfriend!caleb who always knows how to make you feel better in these situations when you start doubting yourself, gently kissing your neck down to your shoulders until he’s got you completely bare for him, whispering sweet words in your ear, “i think you’re the most beautiful girl ever.. none of them ever deserved you..”

bestfriend!caleb who has your legs spread perfectly for him while lining up the mushroom tip of his cock against your entrance before slowly pushing himself through, grunting at the initial tightness of your walls sucking him in and squeezing him tight. he’s slowly fucking you with deep, gentle thrusts while entwining your hands with his.

bestfriend!caleb who loves to hear you moan out his name, smiling against your skin when he buries his head in between the nape of your neck to hide the flush of his cheeks. he can’t help himself, whispering under his breath, “keep talking to me, you sound so pretty like this.”

bestfriend!caleb who feels himself grow possessive over you and your pleasure as his pelvis collides with the curve of your ass, watching the way your back arches when you feel that familiar build up of pleasure from the deep thrusts of his throbbing cock and the gentle circles he makes over your clit with the rough pad of his thumb.

bestfriend!caleb who mutters out with a groan when he’s so close to his high while simultaneously chasing yours, his thrusts growing sloppier and more uncoordinated by the second with you being the only thing on his mind, “you’re mine.. all fuckin’ mine..”

bestfriend!caleb who doesn’t have the self control to pull out when your pussy is sucking him in so tight, so he cums inside and fills you up with a growing warmth that claims himself inside of you — he loves to mark his territory this way, the thought of playing baby roulette and trapping you with him forever being something that sends his cock rock hard.

bestfriend!caleb who insists that you don’t need a boyfriend when you have him, that he’s always going to be the one there for you and have your back while making you feel pleasure no other man could. he doesn’t think there’s anyone worthy of you besides him, but he’ll reveal those feelings for you another time, even if you’re already starting to suspect it.

[ssuperrnnovaa]

— WHEN THEY FALL IN LOVE..

or, when there's no turning back for the first years.

a/n: first writing post.. AHH edit 1: i forgot to add things I DIDNT PROOFREAD SORRY

when ace trappola falls in love..

he's still the same guy. but almost sweet, almost kind.

but he's a master of his secrets. parts his mouth just to spew another joke about your appearance or how you did on that potionology test the other day - that same glint of hesitation in his eyes, that unsure croak of his voice just before he delivers another nasty quip about your face. like a punchline stuck in his throat - too funny to laugh at, too funny to acknowledge.

funny how he'd said he'd "rather hang out with his friends than find love", and here he is; laying in his bed. at 3 am. head filled with nothing but thoughts of you.

he'll let it simmer. wait for you to realize - wait for you to notice him, not just the facade he puts up. not the prankster he is in class, or the troublemaker you have to put up with.

wait for you to love him back.

when deuce spade falls in love..

he's trying his very best.

deuce was never much of a charmer - the guy's been a delinquent for most of his life; feared, not loved. he only sees (romantic) love in the movies - terrible rom-coms, poignant love stories.. you name it. deuce has no idea about love.

(his lack of knowledge gets worse with you.)

deuce tries - keyword, tries to keep his composure in front of you. he fails, miserably. his face? turning red. words? none. palms? sweating. and pride? absolutely crushed.

he apologizes to you later, blames it on the heat or how he forgot about another ridiculous rule. calls up his mom and his mouth is a dam - like he suddenly gained the ability to talk 10 minutes later. tells her all about you, as if she doesn't know your entire genetic code just from hearing him talk.

maybe one day.

when jack howl falls in love..

it's unyielding - unyielding, but quiet.

jack doesn't date for fun; never has, never will. he doesn't chase anyone.

wolves mate for life - you know it when jack immediately shuts down the idea of even having a crush or having an ex, saying that he's "focused on self-betterment" or "waiting for the right person". you're convinced that not even cupid could get him to fall in love.

but for you? that discipline shatters.

it happens during a study session in ramshackle when you're idly playing with his ears - making fun of that stone-cold persona when in reality he's melting under your touch. he catches himself after five minutes of bliss, thoughts of the future flooding his brain; "what if i won't be a good partner to them? what if i let them down?'

to jack, love isn't a game; love's not the way he feels embarrassingly giddy after you squeeze his hand or poke his bicep. love's permanent. forever. and it terrifies him.

when epel felmier falls in love..

it's fierce.

epel's not soft - in fact, he's everything but. he'd do anything to be seen as strong by you; even if it meant burying his own feelings.

epel was never much of a dreamer - let alone a lovey-dovey kind of guy. he despises those mushy romance stories, calling them "dumb as a box of rocks", grimacing when he watches the leads kiss.

yet.. he can't help but be entranced. by you.

he scoffs a little too loudly for vil's comfort, but in his head, he's repeating the same mantra over and over again in his head - "i'm not some silly little girl moonin' over someone. i've got better things to do with my time. besides, love is for babies."

yet, his defenses crumble when you ever do so much as breathe in his direction, and suddenly, he's back to square one.

when sebek zigvolt falls in love..

it's fervent.

sebek is passionate about a lot of things - his duty as a retainer, malleus, academics, and you.

you, a mere human that could quiet him down with just a finger to your lip. you, a mere human who keeps him awake at night and restless, overthinking. yearning.

it's foolish, he tells himself. tells himself it's just a small crush as if it's not all-consuming, as if he's not avoiding you all together just so he could have peace of mind.

is it the right thing to do? no. will it keep him unbothered? absolutely not. and will he come to terms with his feelings?... unlikely.

[superhoeva]

I know you like Patrick Ball chest hair so I apologize for this. But coming home to shift and finding out Frank waxed his chest hair because he lost a fantasy football bet with his college mates

i love love love this sm. and i'd be so mad at him lmao. tw(s) include language, smut, oral sex (f receiving), reader being mad a frank, bare chested!frank langdon, the frank(ie) EFFECT

It’s been an hour, and you haven’t said one word. Not when you came home, feet dragging, and stopped to blink in the doorway at Frank’s guilty face and red-flushed chest. Not when you dodged his kiss to slap down your bag onto the counter to grab the aloe vera gel. Not when you ignore his hisses at the chill of the otherwise soothing paste and rub it into him with a look on your face he can’t solve.

He watches you carefully. Biting his lip and doing his best not to make any certain movements.

“Babe, he boys would’ve booted me outta the group if I had backed out–”

You interrupt Frank with a cut of your eyes to his, and his mouth snaps shut. The hushing of the burn across his chest would’ve been a positive development if the rest of him wasn’t overly warm with an uncomfortable uneasiness.

It takes the man a hard forty-seven more minutes to finally get you to say something–well, moan something–and the sound is music to his fucking hears.

Another win brought to you by the Frankie Effect…

“Right th–fuck–there, yeah,” you pant, thighs trembling from the last peak that has just washed over you, along with the other that has already started to rear its head.

The man is relentless. Desperate even, which he doesn’t bother denying. Removing his chest hair was more than a mistake, and not just because of how loud he groaned when he ripped the wax strips from his now bare pecs. All of the stinging and burning will forever be inferior to the way your face frowned and eyebrows pinched in a mourning annoyance.

His tongue stays right where it is–a little to the right and devouring you with a mind of its own. You taste like nectar and it’s got him rock hard as he humps himself against the bed sheets.

Did he deserve to leak out the load he did a few minutes ago? No, but–as it always does when you’re around–his mind lost the battle to the intoxicated haze you fill his body with.

He came for you, hard, and was just barely able to cover the incriminating, pitiful groans by burying his face into your hole and lapping until you had to yank his head away so you could take a second to breathe. The wet patch sitting right under his slick, shining cock and thrumming balls will rat on him later for it, though hopefully you’ll accept his next apology in the form of fucking you into the mattress while he sucks the spit from your mouth. 

Eating you, Frank is more enthusiastic than usual, and that’s saying a lot. It’s also flicking his tongue at a stunning rate and aching his jaw with a pleasant burn. Somehow, the taste of you is a better medicine than the aloe and he’s completely high on your slick. He’s working you so well, drenching the bottom third of his face with you, that his lips start to swell. They pucker and suck straight on your clit, pink and shining thanks to the vigor of his desires.

“You forgive me yet?” He questions with a slurping haul of his tongue. A pair of eyes glance up in awe at where you’re arching your chest into the air and he plants a hand on your stomach just so he can feel your skin. “I swear, I’ll eat you for a thousand lifetimes if you stop being mad at me. I will literally die down here a happy, happy man… I just want you to forgive me, okay? I won’t do it ever again. Swear.”

The answer you wail out to his pleas is but a slurred sound of nothing, and Frank huffs a laugh through his nose, making sure to not float too far from you when he speaks again.

“Sorry, could you repeat that for me, please?”

Frank digs the tip of his tongue into your slit before dragging upwards to pull louder whine from you, and his eyes roll as he growls against you.

“Yes, Frankie, fine. Fine, ju-just please keep going,” you beg, your aggravation over his bare chest dissolving away with every skillful swirl of his head. “Make me come again, wanna come again… you owe me.”

Yes. He does.

Mouth securing in its place, Frank starts a steady churn around your clit with the top of his tongue, mixing the effort with rough sucks. Your legs shift and hug him closer by his shoulders, the man’s steady grip the only thing keeping you from clenching the limbs shut at the overwhelming uproar of heat gathering so fast that your eyes water.

Frankie’s breathing is loud. Panting, reckless blows of hot air exhale from his nose as little groans are tugged from his throat, and he feels light with bliss. He’s gonna give you exactly what you want–another orgasm, then another after that. Whatever the fuck it takes to keep you distracted until the hair returns to his chest and that thinly-veiled mortified look finally seeps from your stare…

© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚

[yourtamaki]

i fear my mind is going crazy imagining ace fingering you while spooning... like you guys are dozing/napping together, bodies warm from his insane body heat and the sun setting. and he's being so sweet with his hands smoothing over you... then it ends up with him pressing his fingers in you with your leg slung over his arm. he makes me go INSANE i'm so sorry.

this drove me mad in the best way HNNG wc: ~900

just the thought of waking up with that heaviness that comes with taking a nap that lasted way too long and your boyfriend plastered to your back.

ace is almost entirely draped over you, pinning you between the mattress and his bare chest, your legs intertwined, so close that he doesn't need to see your face to know you're awake.

"hey," he presses a kiss as soft as his voice behind your ear, "hi baby."

"hi," you turn your head just enough to catch his gaze. you've got all the qualities of a deep nap. bleary eyes, stale breath, drool drying on the corner of your mouth. and yet when you meet ace's eyes, they're bright with endearment, his hair dark and wild around him. you turn back to bury your face in your pillow, too sleepy and open and raw to look at the reincarnate sun sharing your bed for too long.

the heat he always radiates is a comfort that eases you into a gentle waking, so gentle you could almost fall back asleep if it wasn’t for the warm hand teasing the waistline of your panties. a low shiver runs through you despite the flush you feel starting to creep up your neck, pleased and embarrassed all at once. you don’t think you’ll ever get over the heady rush that comes with being at the centre of ace’s desire.

what a thrill it is, to be so wanted by him. so loved.

“can i?” you answer his hoarse question by pushing back against him until you’re both fully on your sides and parting your legs enough to give him room. ace thanks you with a too wet kiss to your cheek that never fails to make you groan and him laugh.

it’s hard to focus once his hand dip inside your panties but you try. you want to remember every moment of this and relive the memories forever. you’re greedy like that, at least when it comes to him. when you’re both a little more tired and a little more grey, you want to lean over to whisper in his ear and ask if he remembers how you’d go boneless in his arms at the clever little circles he’d rub against your clit. and you know he’d grin back with the same bright eyes you fell for a lifetime ago and say no, but he wouldn’t mind a reminder.

a whole life not yet lived washes over you as ace works one, then two fingers into you, and curls them up into a spot you can never quite reach on your own. you shudder, your legs nearly closing before he catches you, his free hand gripping you under your knee and holding you open for him.

"easy, baby," he says, "i’ve got you."

his palm grinds against your clit and you buck back against him, just as overwhelmed as you are desperate for more. ace gives you no reprieve, pressing impossibly closer, his bulge flush to your ass. you rock together like that for awhile, you riding his fingers while he humps you, taking and giving each other pleasure in tandem.

“i’m close,” you say, “ace, i’m so close, please.”

“yeah? you gonna let me have it?” you think you nod or maybe you say something but you’re too swept up in your rising high, “then cum for me, sweetheart. i wanna feel it, please.”

he’s more desperate for it than you are and the thought is enough to send you hurtling over the edge headfirst into your orgasm. the world goes dark around the edges, blood rushes in your ears and through it all you can hear ace talking to you, his hips still moving as he fucks you through your high.

"there you go, thank you baby, thank you. i'm so lucky, how am i so lucky? fuck you're dripping we ruined your panties, i'm sorry. i’ll get you new ones, i’ll get you anything. i love you."

on and on as he grinds his clothed cock against you in short, quick thrusts, and you know he’ll never cum. not like this. you reach a hand back and grab a fistful of wavy locks, holding him still so you can meet his eyes once again as you look over your shoulder.

the reincarnate sun has tears dotting his lashes and need written plain on his face.

“oh honey, you made me feel so good,” you watch the words hit him like a physical blow.

“yeah?”

“yeah. you always know what i need, always taking such good care of me.”

he nods as much as he can in your tight hold, “always, always.”

“ace,” you meet his ever-burning eyes and see your future looking back, “you can let go now.”

and its not permission he's been waiting for but your satisfaction. it's only now that he knows he's not left you wanting that he lets his pleasure sink its teeth into him. his head bows, forehead on your shoulder as he shakes through his high before collapsing over you.

in the quiet that settles around you, your greed rears its head once more. you would etch every small detail into your bones if it meant you got to keep this forever. the smell of sweat and contentment hanging in the air, the hot weight of him on top of you, the golden red of the setting sun bathing the room. as exhaustion sweeps over you, you think of that tired, grey ace once more and all the stories you’ll have to tell him.

you can't wait to meet him.

[wendichester]

hiiiii i just started watching spn and found your account! love your works so much!!! I just got to the season 4 and Sam is just extra hot in these episodes its distracting. Especially that episode with Ruby….

I was wondering if I could request Sam and reader, maybe just starting their relationship… where they’re finally taking it to a new level since Sam was a little hesitant to start a serious relationship before bc of his demon thing but reader doesn’t care about it, yknow just both of them finally talk about it maybe can be a little steamy (or smut if you want it to its up to you!!!)

Thankyouu!!!🫶🏻

⋆˙⟡ safe here,

summary. sam will forever be haunted by his past. his mistakes. but he feels safe here, with you.

pairing. sam winchester x reader genre. angsty smut ( mdni )

wordcount. 642

notes / warnings. explicit sexual content (consented, soft, protected sex), oral (f!receiving), sam being so vulnerable it kinda broke my heart

You find him on the edge of the motel bed, elbows on his knees, hands clasped tight like he's praying. He’s been like that for a while now—quiet, brooding, barely looking at you even though you’re sitting close enough that your knees are touching.

You hate that look in his eyes.

Like he’s already convinced he doesn’t deserve you.

“I’m not scared of you,” you say softly.

His jaw tenses. “You should be.”

You shake your head, leaning in, letting your fingers trail up his arm. “Sam, come on.”

He finally looks at you. Those soulful eyes, full of all the guilt he’s buried so deep he doesn’t even notice when it leaks out in everything he does. “You don’t know what I’ve done. What I could still—”

“I do,” you interrupt. “I know what happened. And I know who you are now. You’ve been punishing yourself long enough.”

He swallows hard, eyes dropping to your mouth like he wants to kiss you but doesn’t think he’s allowed to.

You take his hand and place it over your chest, right where your heart is pounding under your shirt. “This—this is yours. If you want it. And I’m not gonna let some past mistake you can’t take back make that decision for us.”

He groans, like you’ve cracked something open in him, and suddenly he’s cupping your face and kissing you so desperately it steals the breath from your lungs. Like he’s drowning in you. Like this is the only thing tethering him to the earth.

You pull him down with you onto the bed, mouths never parting, and his body covers yours in seconds, all heat and hunger and trembling restraint. His hands slide under your shirt, slowly, reverently—he touches you like you’re the first good thing he’s ever had.

"Are you sure?" he murmurs against your skin, lips grazing your collarbone.

You nod, fingers already tugging at the hem of his shirt. “I love you, Sam. All of you.”

That’s all it takes for the dam to break.

Clothes fall away piece by piece, like the layers of fear he’s been hiding behind, until he’s naked above you, flushed and hesitant but so damn beautiful you can barely breathe. His hands are shaking as he runs them down your sides, memorizing you, relearning what it means to be touched and wanted.

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” he whispers, voice thick.

“You won’t.” You spread your thighs for him, tugging him closer. “You couldn’t.”

The way he goes down on you is downright reverent—he starts slow, worshipful, fingers gripping your hips as his tongue moves in tight, wet circles that have you gasping his name like a prayer. He moans when you tug at his hair, eyes fluttering shut like your pleasure is his own salvation.

And when he finally slides into you, it’s deep and slow and intimate—like he’s giving you every inch of himself, every haunted corner, every scar. He rests his forehead against yours, breathing hard, hips rocking in a rhythm that feels more like love than lust.

“You feel like peace,” he murmurs, voice wrecked.

Your nails dig into his back, pulling him closer. “Then stay with me.”

He kisses you through every thrust, every gasp, every whispered "yes" that falls from your lips. His name is a song you can't stop singing, and when you come, it’s with a sob in your throat and his name on your tongue. He follows right after, shuddering against you, his body pressed so close it’s like he’s trying to crawl inside your heart.

Afterward, he doesn’t pull away. He wraps himself around you, arm slung tight around your waist, lips brushing your temple.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he breathes. “Not this time.”

And you believe him. Because whatever darkness he’s carrying, you’ll hold the light steady for both of you.

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[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

MR. AND MRS. SMITH RIPPNER

KINKTOBER DAY 9 - MR AND MRS SMITH AU WITH JACKSON RIPPNER

Pairing.| Jackson Rippner x fem!reader

Summary.| You live a double life, but you’re willing to give it all up to devote yourself to your husband. With one final mission, you learn that your marriage is based on a lie.

Warnings.| Dubcon, noncon, manipulation, physical fighting, blood, blackmail, bondage, choking, breeding, head f!receiving, p in v.

Word count.| 7.6k

Notes.| This story KILLED ME. It was not intended to be this long and kinda angsty? Will probably make more sense if you've seen the movie. Idk kinda hate it but that's okay.

The warm sun caressed your skin through the open blinds. The birds were tweeting outside at how much of a beautiful morning it was. However, those peaceful sounds were drowned out, your ears too busy being filled with your husband’s lovely loud moans. With your naked bodies tangled in the sheets, the both of you blissfully cried out in unison, your body pinned underneath his as his hips snapped in and out. As you tug at his roots, you screamed out in ecstasy, your hips rocked against his as you rode out your orgasm. Your husband followed shortly after, finishing deep inside of you. Quickly your bodies stilled, his head buried into the crook of your neck as he inhaled your scent. 

“I don’t want you to leave…” you giggled, holding tightly onto your husband with your legs wrapped around his waist, his cock was gradually softening inside of you. 

Your husband groaned out softly, he kissed your skin ever so tenderly. How you wished you could stay in bed with him for eternity. Whilst massaging his scalp, he sluggishly raised his head as he puffed out. 

“I know baby, I don’t want to leave either” he agreed sweetly as he pressed his lips against your heated forehead. 

Your bodies were entwined together like snakes. It almost seemed too easy for you to be able to flip him onto his back. He huffed out as you straddled him, your drippy bare region rubbed against his member in a teasing manner. As he chuckled out, he felt himself twitch ever so slightly. He took your head into his hands. 

“How long will you be gone for again?” you asked softly. 

Both of you knew you knew the answer to that. Sometimes you just thought that if you repeated the same questions over again he’d change his answer to satisfy you. Considering how often you both traveled, the distance felt hard at times. When one of you was walking in the door, the other was heading out. 

“Five days at most” he whispered. 

He gave you a reassuring kiss. It wasn’t too explicit or plain. His touch was all you ever needed to relieve your dreadful thoughts. Five days wasn’t that long. You’re complaining as if you don’t already have a job to do in between his trip. But you would forever hate to see him leave. 

“I suppose I can handle that” you murmured as a grin grew on your lips. 

“When I get back, I’ll take you out to our favorite little restaurant” he hummed as he left a trail of kisses over your heated face, his hands caressed around your neck. 

“Yes, John” you sighed. 

John stilled, his blue eyes narrowed at you, while the grip on your cheeks tightened. You couldn’t help but to smirk mischiefly. 

“Hey” he warned softly. 

“What?” you laughed. 

“You know I don’t like being called that” John mumbled. 

“What? Your name?” you taunted in a joking manner. 

“Yes” he huffed. 

As soon as you used nicknames like honey, sugar, sweetie pie even… John insisted that you stick to it. He’s always claimed that John was such a common, plain, boring name. It was his belief that his parents named him that to spite him. It felt a bit dramatic, but you kept your mouth shut and kept him happy by calling him a variety of sweet names, however honey just always felt most fitting.

“You’re so theatrical” you snickered.

“It makes me feel like you’re mad at me” John almost talked under his breath.

Sometimes he acted like such a child, you rolled your eyes and rubbed the back of his neck in a reassuring manner. “Okay honey, is that better?” you slightly mocked. John hummed as he kissed you on the lips. 

“What are you going to get up to?” he asked, his face blank but eyes eager to know. 

“Oh I don’t know… House duties I suppose” you lied perfectly. John blinked coldly to you, but the expression quickly vanished as he smiled and planted another soft kiss on your lips. “I’ve been thinking…” you trailed, debating the topic on your hesitant mind.

John’s brows frowned in curiosity underneath his loose locks of chestnut hair as he shifted his hips into a more comfortable position. “About?” He inquired eagerly, head tilted like a cute dog. 

You sighed out, your fingertips ran over his bare chest, John exhaled in relaxation as his eyes studied yours. The silence was short yet impactful. 

“This house is so big” you pointed out, the implication rested on the tip of your tongue. 

“Do you want to downsize?” John tilted his head in confusion. 

The both of you loved this suburban home. There were plenty of spare bedrooms for guests, as if either of you had visitors lining up. Neither of you had much family, the only relationships you shared were the fake ones with your wealthy neighbors, always engaging in their social gatherings to keep up appearances. Thou shalt love their neighbor. 

But with every month that passed of you living here, the more your neighbors seemed to pressure you into having a baby. Most of them were on to their second or third. The ladies would always warn you that the honeymoon stage wouldn’t last forever, so you might as well create your love child before you both despise one another. 

“I was thinking of bringing another in” you said unsurely, unable to keep eye contact with him for once. 

“Like a dog?” John asked softly. But when he noticed your anxious expression, he sighed lowly.  “Oh…” he gulped lightly, eyes widened. 

“Yeah” you mumbled, you brushed his chestnut locks to the side. 

“But I thought we discussed this before we got married” John commented, a neutral, calm expression painted over as he gently rubbed your lower back.

“I know, I know… But I’ve been thinking about it for some reason” you answered as you smiled hopefully at him. 

“We can discuss that possibility better when I get back, yeah?” John reassured you. “But yeah maybe, the idea of filling our home with a baby just may be fulfilling. A baby Smith… Maybe you wouldn’t have to travel so much?” John cocked a brow, a gleeful look on his face. 

“Likewise to you” you snickered as you smacked his chest gently. 

“Wow, I plan one business trip after months of being locked up here and now you blame me” John joked, he pulled your face closer to his. 

“You were gone for weeks on end” you huffed. 

“Six weeks isn’t that long, is it?” Jackson snorted, a mischief grin locked on. 

You kissed him, his arms wrapped around your back as his hips pushed up to yours. The friction built up in you both, again. Sometimes you wondered if you’d reverted back into a teenager, you never seemed to have this high of a sex drive until you met him. John’s length was like a forbidden fruit that you were addicted to. 

“Come on, join me in the shower” he ordered kindly, his baby blue eyes sparkling. 

“I need to cook you breakfast” you objected with a cheeky grin. 

“I’ll eat at the terminal” John grinned back, his newly formed erection pressed against your bare skin. 

As you arrived at the drop off zone - because John always insisted you never wasted time and money to walk him to security- you kissed him passionately before he quickly exited the vehicle and grabbed his small suitcase from the backseat. 

“I love you” John smiled. 

“I love you too” you smiled back. 

John shut the door, took a step back and blew you a kiss as you drove away. Once he disappeared from your rear mirror, you changed the radio station and slipped off your ring. Likewise to your flash SUV vanishing, his gleeful smile formed into a sinister stern glare. 

Whenever you were away from John, your double life crashed on top of you. They always warned you, this job was a deadly commitment. No one could make it work with the white picket fence with a sniper underneath your bed. Before you met John, you loved being an assassin. It gave you a constant rush of adrenaline that no other drug could. But the moment you met him, you could feel the switch begin to flick over. 

It was almost a suffocating burden to be married to John Smith. Yet, his love felt like a drug. Don't get it wrong, John was a terrific husband. If you were having a gloomy day, he’d come home with your favorite ice cream and a new rental for you both to watch that night. Date nights were always over the top with him. Even though you both traveled frequently, you always managed to squeeze in a romantic getaway every now and again. Puerto Rico was the next spot on your list, but he didn’t know that. For John burns, not tans.  

The thought of retiring grew larger inside of you by the day. You could easily fake your job experience for a more conventional profession. You wanted to be honest with John, this profession just wasn’t it. Sure, the pay was great, benefits were out of this world. But it was always so time consuming and moral reckoning. Not to mention your life was always at risk. Every mission you took, the more you worried for John. What if something did happen to you, how would he cope? Even worse, what if something happened to him? You've hidden him from your workplace, but what if. 

John Smith was charismatic, confident and intelligent. There wasn’t a day that you’d catch him in a faded pair of sweatpants and an oversized shirt, he always dressed proper. He’d always be able to read the room, it was impressive with how easily he could mingle into the conversation, as if he was the one that started it. It felt like he knew you completely from day one. John Smith was mesmerizing, alluring and fulfilling. He was the fantasy you never knew you craved. 

You sighed as you arrived at your headquarters. The elevator ride up was dreadful as you could only think of him. The doors dinged open, you blinked back your swelling eyes as you waltzed through. Your second identity quickly painted across your expression as you approached your desk. As you plopped at your seat, you opened up your resignation file, your fingers nervously tapped on the wood as you considered everything. Your finger hovered over the print button. With a firm push, the printer roared to life. After neatly laying it on your desk, you opened up your mission report once more and scanned over your next and last target. 

‘Jackson Rippner’

- 

The missions were all the same, always to terminate bad, horrible men that polluted the world. You liked to tell yourself that you were more of a vigilante than a cold blooded killer, that your jobs were somewhat for the greater good. But who were you to think that you were any better. This was no justice system, nobody would learn. Maybe you were wrong about this whole baby idea, how could you raise a child knowing you’ve killed many others? Especially with a beautiful man like your husband. 

But this was the last one, you had to keep on telling yourself that. It would all work out, you’ve done your time as one of their soldiers. It was time to live a normal life.

Quickly, you slipped your handheld mirror from your purse and applied one final layer of gloss. As the elevator dinged open, your stiletto boots went silent on the carpet flooring. The rough security guard stood in front of the room entrance, his thick arms crossed over his broad chest. With him looking you up and down, you batted your lashes as he started to pat you down over your coat. He tried to untie the coat but you swatted his hands away, glaring harshly at him. The guard huffed at you and checked your handbag, the handcuffs dangled from his thick finger. All you could do was shrug at him. After three slow knocks, the guard let you in.  

The room was decorated in a seductive red. You strolled carelessly, your thighs crossed over one another as you pretended not to notice your target in the corner of the room. Jackson smirked at you in his hotel provided fluffy white robe, his blonde hair slicked back as he twirled his whiskey on rocks. He stalked over to you, his tongue rolled over his lips. As your eyes lingered over to the closed bathroom, you stepped towards it, but he stopped you by raising his hand.

“I just wanted to freshen up” you batted your lashes, tone soft. 

“No, no, you look perfect” he gave you a toothy grin. 

You resisted your impulsive huff. The handbag is dropped onto the cabinet as you slowly untie your coat, revealing your shiny, leather, exposing catsuit that made your tits look perfect. The knee high boots tease at the limitation of the skin of your thighs. You unclasped your claw clip, your luscious hair fell onto your shoulders. 

“Mr Rippner” you purred, your hands dipped into your bag for the cuffs.

His dark eyes ate you up completely, his mouth almost drooling at your beauty. As you approached him, you unrobed him, revealing his toned muscular tan body. With a seductive smirk, you pushed him to his knees and quickly and certainly tightly, cuffed his hands behind his back. You teased him by tugging at the roots of his blonde hair. 

“Are you a naughty boy, Jackson?” you whispered as you squatted in front of him. 

“Mhm-hmmm” he hummed, his eyes piercing into yours. 

“Do you know what happens to naughty boys?” you murmured, your lips inching from his. All he wanted to do was kiss you. 

“No” he whispered back. 

You stood up and slipped behind him, your hands ran up and down his broad back, your lips pressed to his ear. “They die” you whispered darkly. 

Before he could even react, your arms locked around his head and you effortlessly snapped his neck. To stop him from thumping to the ground, you held onto hair, carefully laying him on the soft carpet. You exhaled out and stood up, you picked your phone from your bag and sent the confirmation text to your boss. You then slipped your wedding ring back onto your finger, you hated having it off. 

“Damn baby, you’re such a sexy killer” the voice of your husband echoed behind you. 

Your body spun around towards the bathroom, you stared at him like a deer caught in headlights. This wasn’t possible, how was he here? You stumbled back and blinked hard, expecting this all to be a guilty figment of your imagination. He was wearing one of his ordinary suits as he smirked devilishly as per usual. 

“John” you gasped. 

“I really thought you were gonna kiss him for a second” your husband tutted, his eyes full of mischief as he approached you. 

You were frozen in place. Every thought in your mind bounced at a high speed, you couldn’t grasp onto anything. All you could do was murmur his name again as he closed the distance. 

“Baby, how many times do I have to tell you I hate it when you call me that?” John lectured teasingly. As he tried to wrap his arms around you lovingly, you shoved him back. 

“What is going on?” you hissed like a viper. Then, it all clicked, all of the pieces fell perfectly into place. Your eyes darted from the dead man on the floor back up to him. “You’re Jackson Rippner” you mumbled, your expression drained in shock and defeat. 

“...Yes…” Jackson answered, his eyes widened for a second as he tried to hide the grin off of his lips.

“Who’s that guy?” you questioned. 

Both of your eyes drifted to the carpet but returned back to one another. 

“My decoy, obviously” Jackson shrugged carelessly. 

“I-I don’t understand” you stammered, trying to keep your emotions on track. Jackson rubbed your arms to comfort you, stupidly you allowed it. “But- But I had your profile checked” you argued, shaking your head at this situation. This possibility wasn’t, well… it wasn’t possible. 

“I’m a great ghost baby” Jackson gloated. 

When you fell silent, pouting a lot harder than you realized, Jackson pouted back. He hugged you tightly, his lips pressed to your heated cheek. 

“John!” you gasped, you tried to push him off but he wouldn’t budge. 

“Baby, my name isn’t John!” Jackson chuckled, his lips continuing to kiss your skin. “It’s Jackson…” he whispered somewhat flirtatiously. 

Jackson was soft with his words, but a brute with his actions. He held you against his chest as you squirmed like a fish out of water. It was amusing for him, watching you get all overwhelmed over a little detail. 

“Baby… I have it all planned out, okay? I need you to trust me” Jackson spoke a lot more firmly this time. Your eyes pointed up to his. 

“John-”

“It’s Jackson!” he snapped, his words hissing in anger. You flinched and blinked hard, your lower lip began to wobble. The hold he had on you tightened shortly. He exhaled out and loosened his grip. “Anyways, you killed my decoy, they’ll think Jackson Rippner is dead. And I’ll happily stay in the shadows far away from your work so we can continue playing happy husband and wife” Jackson proposed, a gleeful expression locked on. 

The seriousness in his eyes was frightening. “Jackson, you’re scaring me” you gulped.

“I know, fuck- I know how much this can be for you” he sympathised in a highly condescending tone, his head tilted down to yours. “It certainly does change things…” he mumbled lightly. “But baby, you can’t judge me. We work in the same profession” he chuckled, hoping to bring light to this. 

“You’ve known all along, haven’t you?” you whispered, eyes turning all glossy.

“Of course I did” Jackson snorted. 

“Who are you?” you dared to ask. 

Jackson stared at you blankly, analyzing every single sign you were throwing at him. He breathed out and let go of you, he turned his heel and walked towards the mini bar. “Let me get you a drink first, okay? You’re currently in shock, you need to calm down a little bit first” he clicked his tongue. 

You watched his back as he pulled out two glasses. He opened the whiskey bottle and filled them, sneakily sprinkling the small plastic bag of powder into your glass. Returning to you, his expression was blank as he held out your glass. Reluctantly, you took it, you stared at the liquor. Jackson downed his glass, placed it down next to your handbag and cocked an eyebrow at you, his foot impatiently tapped on the carpet. For someone who was supposedly stalking you, he was stupid enough to think you were an idiot. Your face scrunched in anger, before Jackson could react, you splashed the drink on his face. 

“Baby!” Jackson spat the liquor off of his lips. 

You punched him in the nose, he stumbled back and snarled out. Reactively, he tried to swing at you but missed as you leaned your upper body back. You swiped his feet and he crashed onto the floor. Repeatedly, you kicked him in the stomach until he latched onto your calf and yanked your leg up into the air. You fell onto the carpet with him. 

The door swung open and you leaped into the bathroom as shots were fired in your direction. You pushed your body weight to the door and you could hear Jackson screaming at his guy. 

“Don’t fucking shoot her!” Jackson roared, a vein popped out of his forehead. “Give me the fucking gun and get out!” he commanded.

The silencer was on, meaning hotel security wouldn’t be paying you a visit anytime soon. You needed your damn handbag to get out of here. Running your hand through your hair, you tried to summon up your game plan. Adrenaline ran through your blood as you heard the door shut once more. 

“Baby… Come out and let’s talk” Jackson projected kindly as he approached the door. He emptied the gun and dropped it to the ground, ensuring that you’d hear it. “I don’t want to fight with you, okay? Come on, let’s be civil with one another before somebody gets hurt” Jackson attempted to convince you, that familiar persuading tone on his tongue. . 

He was right, somebody would certainly get hurt and you’d be damned if it was you. You cursed to yourself, stood up, brushed yourself down and opened the door. That non wipeable grin was on his lips as he stared you up and down. His devilish blue eyes locked onto your band. 

“Put it on already, huh?” Jackson murmured, his hand dared to reach out to you. 

You smacked his hand away, swiftly twisting his arm around, he grunted out as you kneed him in the stomach. He is charged into the wall by you, you repetitively throw blow after blow into him. Jackson tried to counter you, but failed miserably as you smacked his head into the plaster. 

“I’m going to slice you to pieces” you threatened, your rage uncontrollable. “You fucking cunt!” you screamed as you threw him into the side of the bed. 

As you stomped towards him, Jackson hurried to his feet and pulled out the blade from his jacket pocket. The tip is pointed directly at you as his fingers rubbed over his cut lip. 

“You fucking bitch” he snarled but had this crazed smirk on his lips. 

This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve fought at a disadvantage. So you courageously raised your fists at your husband. Jackson laughed smugly and called out for his guard. You scoffed, picked up Jackson’s empty glass and hurled it at the man as soon as he entered the room. The glass scattered over his skull and he tumbled to the ground. Jackson cursed loudly as you reached for your handbag and coat before you flew out of the room. 

You ran across the terrace as you swiftly slipped your coat on, Jackson was hot on your tail as easily unclasped one of the rings from the bag, a metal rope connected to it. You clicked the ring onto the lamp post, held onto the other handle of the bag and dived off the balcony. The rope protracted down the high rise building, the drop slowed down as you watched the sidewalk grow closer. As your boots clinked onto the cement and hand let go of the handle, you hailed the next taxi, not giving a damn who stared you down. As you sat in the back and the adrenaline drained from your blood, you broke down into tears as you ripped off your wedding ring. 

Jackson heaved as he planted his hands on the cement edge. A grin formed on his lips as he watched you gracefully fall. He couldn’t help but to be proud as you shrunk smaller and smaller. You go into the next taxi and disappear into the concrete jungle. He slipped his phone out of his pocket and held it to his ear.

“Yeah, commence through. Kill them all” Jackson sighed.  

-

The truth was, you were originally Jackson’s target. Your firm had information his desperately needed. The security on your system was too good for his team to hack, he needed access from the inside. As soon as Jackson saw your profile, he felt some kind of draw towards you. As he stalked you, this attraction quickly turned into an obsession. His patience thinned every week, he craved some taste of you. 

When you booked a last minute red eye flight, he jumped at the opportunity. He was surprised with how easily he caught your attention, you seemed to crave it just as badly as him. It would be your downfall without even knowing it. You could almost have him fooled, you didn’t seem like a killer, you had morals, ethics, care in the world. Everything he didn’t possess. You silently screamed for domestic life, but you just didn’t know it yet. Before the plane landed, Jackson realized that there was no possible way he’d be able to fire the gun once the job was over. 

When he took you on your first date, he expected to fuck you, not to make love. My, he knew how cheesy it sounded, but it was a sleepless night of passion and sensuality. Jackson had never felt more emotionally, physically and spiritually raw and intense. It was like he had an outer body experience that night. He could have sworn he felt the exact moment that he fell completely in love with you. You craved him too, felt the exact same thoughts he did. It was like you were both one that night. Now Jackson was never a romantic, but he knew he’d marry you when the sun rose in the morning.  

You quickly turned sloppy around him, you really thought he was as innocent as he looked. Jackson accessed your system so effortlessly. It really was a pie waiting to be taken. He partially felt bad betraying you, but it was better than eliminating you. As if to reward him for his hard, continuous efforts, you fucked him that night until he saw pure bliss. 

He covered his tracks perfectly, you were robbed blind. There were no leads, no suspicions, nothing. He saw it in your eyes the next time he saw you. Jackson’s heart fluttered, you were in the shitter and you wanted him to be your shoulder to cry on. Not that any physical tears were shredded that day. But Jackson comforted you, held you as you both talked sweet nothings to one another. You told him you loved him that night, he felt no shame in returning those blissful words. That night, you truly believed everything would be better. That Jackson was your silver lining. 

The porch lights were still on even though it was past midnight. As Jackson’s Mercedes pulled up the driveway, he took in the last moment of silence, peace. A devilish smirk grew on his lips as he casually got out of the car and almost skipped to the door. It was risky, you could have eliminated him at any moment, but Jackson knew you, a public execution was not your style. 

You had no other option than to come here. Jackson had annihilated your firm before you could bring yourself to contact them. All agents were now dead one way or another, your director included. This reckoning was all due to you. Jackson Rippner was the virus in the system. It felt like you were in the fallback scene of a spy film. This was now a suicide mission, all from your stupid blindness of love. Why did you always have to trust him? You should have listened to your instinct and kept someone on his tail whenever you were gone. 

“Honey! I’m home!” Jackson called out as he viciously slammed the door shut.

The interior was dead silent, he knew you were somewhere, hidden in the dark as you awaited the perfect moment to attack. Checking the hidden security cameras would be too easy for him. Jackson wanted a challenge. The masculinity inside of him demanded to show you your place, as a woman and a devoted wife. 

Jackson flicked on the dim lights, he slid the pistol out from his hostler as he cautiously stepped over the oakwood floor. His footsteps were light as a feather as he almost hovered over the ground. When he reached the turntable, he chucked on one of your favorite jazz records and turned up the volume through the amplifier. His chestnut hair shagged over his forehead, he could sense you, because the pungent perfume you always wore filled his smell. 

“Babygirl… Come out, let’s play!” Jackson grinned as he picked up a photo frame down the hallway.

He pressed his back against the plaster, the winder staircase on the opposite side of the wall. His face pointed towards the edge as held the photo of the two of you towards the stairs, the glass’ reflection painted the staircase on the glass as you came into sight. You aimed the shotgun in your hand as you squatted in the midpoint of the staircase, your barrel pointed right to the edge of the wall. The frame was shot to pieces as he hissed out. 

“Careful honey, I don’t want to shoot you” you spat, tone dripping with deception.

“Oh no, no more pet names, I only want to hear my proper name off of your lips!” Jackson laughed. 

Intuitively, Jackson dropped down as you shot straight through the wall. Another shot was fired for goodluck, the dust and darkness blinded your vision, the moonlight and dim lights wasn't enough. Jackson groaned out dramatically as he dropped his pistol, an inch from hands reach as he plummeted to the floor. You gasped as his head came into view, you lowered the shotgun as you slowly stepped down. 

His left eye peaked open as he saw you off guard. Swiftly, he picked up the pistol and fired in your direction. You grunted as you hurried back up the stairs, firing a few shots for good measure. But when Jackson’s magazine ran out, you jumped at the opportunity to attack. He strode down the hallway, his face content as blasts splattered through the walls just short of him. Turning the corner, Jackson reloaded and took the next right to do a complete circle around the floor.

But you bet him to it, your knees sliding on the floor as you fired in his direction. Unfortunately you missed your target. Grunting to yourself, you reloaded and spun into the open. The coast was clear, you stood silently, the barrel switching from every possible open exit. Your brows furrowed when you saw his pistol slide over towards you. 

“Come on now, guns are overrated baby! Take your anger out on me a bit more passionately” Jackson called out. 

Silently, you followed the sound of his voice. As you sharply turned the corner, the room was empty and you muttered soundlessly. 

“You think I’m an idiot!” you shouted back. 

“Kinda, given the fact that I’ve had you wrapped around my finger this whole time!” he bellowed. 

The urge to prove him wrong, to get your revenge the righteous way took over. You emptied the shotgun and threw it to the floor. You pulled the bullet off of your black midi dress.

“Come out then baby, give me your best shot!” you mocked. 

“Gladly” Jackson smirked as he turned the corner and leant against the hallway wall. 

Cracking your neck and rolling your shoulders back, you brought up your fists and strided towards him. With a wicked grin, Jackson slid off his jacket and carelessly raised his own fists. The first punch you threw had your full force. But Jackson ducked and jabbed into your knee. You winced and kicked into him with your free leg. Jackson wrapped his arms around your lower body and forced you to the floor. 

“How could I be so stupid” you whimpered softly as Jackson tried to pin you down. 

“Because you’re in love with me baby” he smirked, his ego so full you almost felt it drip onto you. 

Your hand slipped free, you punched him in the jaw. Jackson groaned out, his mind dazed momentarily, you shoved him off of you. With a shake of his chestnut hair, Jackson chased after you. Ending up in the kitchen, you picked up multiple objects and flung them in his direction. Jackson managed to dodge most. As your hand wrapped around the expensive fine china vase Jackson adored, his eyes widened. 

“Now! Don’t throw that!” he ordered as he shoved his finger at you. 

Scoffing towards him, you hurled it towards his head, he had no other option than to duck. The material shattered against the wall. Jackson’s head snapped back, his blue eyes wide as he stared at the red pieces scattered over the floor. Snapping his eyes back onto you, he gave you a smug look. 

“You really are a petty bitch, ain’t you baby?” Jackson scolded. 

“Don’t call me that” you huffed. 

“Baby” Jackson pouted.

A wave of anger crashed over you, you flew over the island in the middle of the kitchen and crashed into him. The both of you threw jab after jab, kick after kick. Your nails dug into his skin and Jackson hissed out harshly. You’re banged up into the fridge, the back of your head making first contact. 

“You lied to me” you mumbled as Jackson held you against the fridge. 

Jackson pointed a finger at you. “Shut it… You lied to me just as badly” he countered. 

The denial was planted deep in his mind. In his justification, you were both as bad as each other, you both lied and deceived one another. Despite him always knowing, the ignorance was bliss for as long as it had lasted. 

“You used me!” you yelled. 

Jackson rolled his eyes as you flipped his back onto the fridge. 

“I know, but does it make you feel any better if I say that I was supposed to kill you initially?” Jackson chuckled softly. 

You slapped him across the cheek and let go, your chest heavy as you tried to keep your overwhelming thoughts at bay. Jackson hated to see you cry, to see any negative emotion in you. You were his to protect, to look after, he hated how badly the truth was hurting you. You could handle the physicality, but not this, not those dark emotions that no one can train you to block out. Jackson reached out for your hand. 

“Don’t touch me like that” you warned. 

“Baby, let’s talk” Jackson urged as he tried to touch you again. 

It snapped inside of you, you opened one of the drawers and pulled out the first knife you could wrap your hand around. The blade is pressed against Jackson’s throat, his jaw clenched as he glared at you. The edge of the bench dug into his lower back, his hands clawed down beside him. 

“I’ll fucking kill you!” you threatened, your body trembling immensely. 

“Do it baby, rip my heart out” Jackson grinned. “It’s not like you’d make it out of the fucking door, they’re watching us…” Jackson snorted, his eyes flickered towards the window. As you looked out, you saw the red laser flicking through the darkness, right onto your forehead. “Til death do us part” he whispered into your ear. 

“I don’t care if I die” you whispered back, accepting your fate. 

“Sure, but I bet you would if your sister did, yeah? Oh but you had no siblings didn’t you? Yet my accomplice reports that she’s alive and well in Tampa, now isn’t she?” Jackson spoke casually. 

Your eyes snapped onto him, eye twitching. It was impossible for him to know that, you’d hidden it so perfectly. Impulsively, you attempted to drive the knife through his hand on the counter. But Jackson slipped out, the knife clanked against the marble, you hissed out, your grip loose. Easily, he stole the knife from you and pointed it at you. You were stumbling back as he followed you. 

“Do anything to me, and I assure you, she’ll be dead before you can reach her” Jackson spat. 

It angered you, you should be fighting him to the death. Trying to rip his skull in half. But all he needed was a little threat to keep you at bay. You found yourself climbing the stairs, ignoring him completely as he stalked you. 

“Where are you going baby?” Jackson mocked arrogantly. 

As you reached the second floor, Jackson flung your body to the wall, his hand slipped around your neck, a gentle warning squeeze followed. Your glossy eyes snapped onto him, a dirty glare painted your beautiful face. 

“Don’t act like this. You made vows to me, remember?” Jackson reminded you harshly. 

As if vows were meant to mean anything at this point. You could counter him with plenty of his own vows. It made you sick in the stomach with his attempts of manipulation. He was sick in the head with some foul disease.  

“I don’t know who you are, you disgust me” you insulted. 

“Well… Get over it” Jackson shrugged his shoulders. 

“You’re pathetic Jackson. What makes you possibly think I could forgive you, love you? You’re an insecure little boy who can’t take no for an answer” you cruely countered. 

Jackson’s expression was blank and dark. As if all humanity drained from his body, he flung you backwards. Before you could even process it, you felt your back hit the thick edges of the stairs. You tumbled down, hitting your head intensely multiple times as you rolled to the floor. A slow groan escaped your lips, you whined out as you tried to focus. But your mind was dazed, your body felt numb and your eyes blurred. Within a blink, Jackson appeared beside you, how long were you out for?

“You okay?” Jackson whispered as he kneeled down beside you. His tone was full of concern and care. You mumbled out gibberish and Jackson chuckled, gently he caressed your heated cheek. “Come on then, let’s get you to bed” Jackson breathed out. 

Easily, he threw your body over his shoulders and carefully headed up the stairs. Beelining straight to the bedroom, Jackson flicked on the lights and thoughtlessly dropped your limp body onto the bed. You bounced on the soft mattress, your eyes squinted as you tried to piece everything back together. Putting up a small helpless struggle, Jackson stripped you bare. He texted his men to stand down and closed the blinds. The sound of the wooden draw pulling out caught your attention, but you couldn’t decipher what Jackson was grabbing. 

“Up for some kinky shit baby?” Jackson smirked snugly as he held up the rope. 

“Fuck off” you groaned as you tried to crawl off the bed. 

But Jackson straddled your hips and roughly pulled your wrist to the bed frame. After tightly binding you to the bed, you squirmed like a dying fish out of water. Jackson leant down to your ear, his warm lips pressed to your lobe as he inhaled your scent.

“I don’t wanna hurt you anymore baby” Jackson made known. “Don’t make me do it anymore, it hurts me too” he said through a soft tone. 

“Then untie me” you grumbled. 

“No, no… I need you baby, so badly” Jackson moaned lightly as he pressed his clear hard onto your stomach.

Your eyes widened, how long had he been erect for? How was physical combat a major turn on for him? Surely he’d never take advantage of you in this sense. Jackson was always a gentleman, kind, and thoughtful. Never would he pressure you into something that you had to consider. But yet again, this was Jackson, you didn’t know Jackson, you only ever knew John. 

“Jackson, don’t do this to me” your lip wobbled, eyes heavy. 

The pounding headache didn’t help. Hopelessly, you tugged at your binds, Jackson smirked darkly at the sight. The soft touch he always gave you made your legs squirmed. He’d only be rough with you if you wanted it that way, you prayed he’d stick to that. 

“Shush, you’re gonna have to comply with me baby. I know everything about you, every single person you’ve ever even smiled at, I will have killed if you continue to piss me off. You've sacrificed enough for your job, so surely you can still sacrifice a little bit for me” he grinned. You opened your mouth to counter, but Jackson was quick to press his finger to your lips and hush you. “I know I’ve lied to you from the beginning, but you have to know that I’ve always loved you” Jackson spoke truthfully, rawly.

It felt like a rip to the heart, because you knew his words were honest. That look in his eyes was too hard to stare at. No, this doesn’t change anything. Jackson was a horrible person, you were not the same as him no matter how badly he tried to persuade you. 

“You took advantage of me” you huffed, blinking back your tears.

“I know, I’m sorry” Jackson exhaled, almost looking guilty at his actions. “Baby, we’re not normal people, you can’t possibly hold this against me. Now, you can go around and think that what I did was unforgivable. But can’t you just be happy that you are completely accepted by somebody? No one will ever love you the way I do. What we have is real, you’re mine and I’m yours, always” Jackson confessed. 

All you could do was laugh weakly. The insanity of this man was wild. The sweet look on his face dropped. 

“You’re fucking crazy” you insulted. 

“Don’t piss me off” Jackson said coldly. A stare off commenced, slowly a grin grew on Jackson’s lips. “You want a job with me? I can get you in easily” Jackson laughed softly.

“I was going to quit for you” you snarled. 

“Made it easier for you then” Jackson shrugged. 

His eyes lowered to your stomach. Instantly, you knew exactly what he was thinking. Your body tensed as his hand traveled closer to your bare skin. You flinched as his fingertips rolled over your hardened nipples firstly. 

“Now, let's talk about that baby” Jackson licked his lips, his hand pressed to your stomach. You were speechless, shocked that he could think of this still. “A baby Rippner, now doesn’t that just sound fitting?” Jackson sniggered with a smug mouth. 

Slowly, he stripped himself bare over you. All you could do was watch in a mixture of fear, intimidation and arousal. His body was always so perfect in your eyes. You hated how badly you subconsciously submitted to him. As your skull thrummed, you squeezed your eyes shut. All you wanted to do was stop thinking completely. 

Jackson whispered your name as he pressed his lips to your neck. It was soft, everything he was doing was so fucking perfect. The way his hands rubbed your trembling skin, how the top of his head rubbed against the side of your face. Those sweet whispers of his made you squirm, the pleasurable ache in your core tormented you. 

His hands squeezed your tits, as he gradually lowered himself to your cunt. Sometimes Jackson wished that he could die by suffocation from in between your legs. The smell of your musk was intoxicating. You whined, your mouth clamped shut. Everything was hurting you, breaking you, yet your body demanded to accept the pleasure all too easily. 

“Yeah, gonna put a fucking baby in you alright. All fucking mine, fuck you’re so perfect, I love you so fucking much baby” Jackson praised, his fingers rolled over your sensitive flesh as he admired you. 

This was too much to handle. You broke down in tears as your body trembled from a mixture of reactions. Quickly and carefully, Jackson climbed up your body, his lips pressed to the side of your mouth. 

“Hey, hey, you’re okay baby… I’ll look after you, always. You just gotta give me a shot, I’m still John… Still the man you married” he assured quietly as he tried to wipe your tears away. 

“Jackson- please” you sobbed. 

“Shush, I’m always going to take care of you. I made vows to you, I refuse to break my word” Jackson spoke more firmly this time.  

“Jackson” you whispered as he aligned his tip to your entrance.

“My name sounds so beautiful on your lips baby, keep on saying it” Jackson softly ordered. 

After whimpering his name one more time, he crashed his lips against yours. Your mouth fell open, you were too tired to fight him anymore. His eager member slipped deep into your welcoming walls. The pleasure was too relaxing for your state. You were losing consciousness. All you wanted to do was sleep, it was the quickest way you could get away from him, even though it was only temporarily. 

“No, no, stay with me. Keep your eyes open, you’re fine” Jackson commanded. 

When you didn’t listen to him, mumbling and whimpering to yourself, he slipped his hand around your throat and squeezed hard. You wheezed out, your bloodshot eyes flashed open as you searched for air, bound wrists fought against the rope. Jackson coached into your ear, his hips slowly pumping his cock in and out of you. He released his grip enough for you to ruggedly breathe, his lips attached onto every bruise and cut on your body to assure you that he meant no harm. You tried to hide it from him, but it was pointless. He knew your body inside out, it truly was his to own. 

“Jackson I’m… Gonna…” you gasped as you felt your walls pulsate. 

“That’s it, let all of that tension go, get rid of all of that bad energy” Jackson smirked as his free hand rubbed your sensitive bud. 

Shortly, you screamed out hoarsely, he let go of your neck to hear your sympathy. The clenches vibrated down his length. Right after, Jackson felt his dick ready to spurt out. His hands pulled your hips up as he buried himself completely inside of you, your body trembled immensely as he finished inside of you. Your body slumped, completely exhausted as you gasped for an easy breath. Right before you finally could escape him, you heard his dark voice echo through your mind. 

“Goodnight Mrs Rippner”

[fadedpiink]

beach

txt x gn!reader

genre: fluff / comfort / slice of life / soft boyfriends / established relationships. warnings: none

soobin — sunset & silence

you’re both sprawled on a giant towel, tucked close as the sun bleeds gold into the ocean. soobin’s hand is lazily tracing shapes on your back, his sunglasses tilted as he watches you talk about something random with your face half-lit by orange light. “you look pretty when you’re passionate,” he mumbles, barely loud enough over the waves. he won’t stop taking secret pictures of you, either—soft candid shots he refuses to show you until later. when it gets cold, he gives you his hoodie and buries his nose in your damp hair. “you smell like the sea,” he murmurs. “i think i wanna remember this forever.”

yeonjun — chaotic fun & flirting

yeonjun’s the loudest one at the beach, dragging you into the water, fake-drowning just for attention, and challenging strangers to volleyball matches while yelling “my baby’s my lucky charm!” he keeps lifting you by the waist like it’s nothing and flinging you into the waves, only to chase you down and apologize dramatically. when you’re drying off, he insists on applying your sunscreen himself and draws little hearts on your back before rubbing them in. “you love me more after today, don’t lie,” he teases, smug even with sand in his hair. and yeah, you probably do.

beomgyu — mischief & shared headphones

you both forget to actually swim. instead, you’re walking along the shore, flipping seashells at each other, sharing an old pair of tangled earbuds. he plays the most chaotic mix of songs—sad ballads, then trot music, then suddenly screamo—and laughs whenever you grimace. beomgyu starts digging a hole “to trap a crab,” but ends up accidentally burying his own flip-flop. later, you both lie under an umbrella with watermelon slices, and he keeps feeding you until you smack his hand. “you look cute when you’re annoyed,” he grins, brushing saltwater hair from your cheek.

taehyun — peaceful & intentional

taehyun brings everything: snacks, extra towels, water shoes, and even a portable speaker for a curated beach playlist. he’s calm as ever, swimming beside you with strong strokes and never letting you drift too far. “don’t worry, i’ve got you,” he says like it’s no big deal, but it makes your heart skip. after swimming, you both sit on the rocks, letting the sun dry you as you sip from shared drinks. he’s got one hand on your thigh and the other holding yours, and the world just feels still. “we should do this more often,” he says, voice low and warm. “you look happy here.”

huening kai — soft laughter & sea glass

kai is all about the little things—finding the prettiest shell for you, laughing when you get splashed, building a sandcastle with way too much commitment. he’s got sunscreen on his nose and keeps offering you sips of his juice box like a kid. “wanna collect sea glass?” he asks, eyes hopeful. you end up with a pocket full of green and blue pieces, and he gives you the best one like it’s a diamond. when the sky goes pink, he braids your wet hair and sings quietly under his breath, sitting knee-to-knee with you on a faded towel. “this is my favorite day,” he says without hesitation.

masterlist hope you enjoyed! please like + reblog to show support, and feel free to leave feedback and comments through rb tags, anon messages, or dms!

© fadedpiink 2025

[snowluvvie]

Chocolate lava cake with Peter Parker!!!! Any letter (or all if ur feeling kind) I need this please please please thank you

You need to pick a letter next time but I love Peter so I picked three I wanted :)

₊˚⊹ ♡ . NSFW ALPHABET (D, S, Y) w/ PETER PARKER

₊˚⊹ ♡ . MDNI 18+. warnings — fem!reader, voyeurism, peter being a perv and a peeping tom, m. masturbation, overstimulation, crying, oral (m. and f. receiving), p in v

D is for DIRTY SECRET — pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of his

That little perv has swung by your window countless times, usually just under the guise of “checking in on you” or “making sure everything’s alright” because he is the neighborhood hero, of course—and you do live in the neighborhood, right? You were always going about your normal day-to-day when he saw you, brushing your teeth, typing on your laptop in the living room, rushing to put your shoes on because you were late to go somewhere. Those moments made him like you more and more, seeing you just be.

That is, until that one time he caught you changing. It seemed like he’d swung past the very moment your bra had fallen to the ground. He was a gentleman, averted his eyes and left… after a minute… or two. After you were fully dressed again. (Fine. Peter watched you change.) Poor guy (pervert) was rock hard the whole rest of his patrol, swinging around the city with a massive bulge in the front of his suit. Thank god he didn’t end up having to stop any crime—that would’ve been awkward (deserved.) The sight of your tits is the only thing that filled his head when he was strangling his own dick for the next… month? No, much longer. Until the next time he saw you like that.

S is for STAMINA — how many rounds can he go for? how long does he last?

Super-stamina… self explanatory, no? (I’m gonna explain anyway.) Sometimes it seems like Peter can go forever, as long as you’ll let him—and sometimes he lasts too long, focuses too intensely how good you feel when he’s rutting into you, closes his eyes and just gets completely lost in it. He’ll go until you’re both dripping with sweat, the sheets soaked through, and you’re struggling to come down from your third orgasm, shaking and spasming and whining, but he just doesn’t let up. It takes you saying his name in a choked sob: “Peter,” for him to finally open his eyes and look down at you, all disheveled underneath him, tears spilling from the corners of your eyes—for him to come back to reality and with a long, breathy moan, he finally cums at the sight of you. And if we’re being honest, he would’ve gone longer if you hadn’t been desperately exhausted and fucked out.

Y is for YEARNING — how high is his sex drive?

Quite literally wants you—needs you—all the time, but he can be reserved about it, especially in the beginning.

When he swings by your place after a patrol late at night, desperately wanting to let off some steam, he doesn’t want to say anything about it. You’ll have a perfectly nice night until you notice the way Peter’s jaw has been set all funny while you’ve been walking around in your cute little PJs, nipples perked up from the cold air. He doesn’t wanna “ruin a wholesome night,” but you saw the look on his face at least twenty minutes ago, and have been pushing your chest out ever since then. When he finally admits he’s tense, and you suck him off to help him relax, he insists on returning the favor. He feels bad receiving without giving back—so every time you swallow his cum, you find yourself halfway off the edge of the bed with his head buried between your legs.

The longer you’re together, the more confident he feels just snatching you up so the two of you can run away, giggling and making out, to your bedroom or some other private corner of whatever you are, so he can release tension by bouncing you on his cock. He’s so strong, you don’t find yourself having to do any of the work when you don’t want to. Peter will fuck you senseless, and then kiss you long and sweet and tell you: “Thanks :)” with that grin and glint in his eye, like you did him a favor. All you can do is nod numbly in response, still dazed.

[jenosonlywife23]

Fragments of Us

Request; Hey! I have one but idk if it's good- Can you try writing a story where jeno left for the militiary and was presumed dead but then a few years later she sees him again only to find out he lost his memory?

a/n; @hameesstuff, this ones for you ;)

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

The crisp spring air felt heavy as you sat on the park bench, scrolling through your phone aimlessly. The news had arrived weeks ago, delivered with a knock on the door that would forever echo in your mind.

“We regret to inform you that Corporal Lee Jeno is presumed dead in action.”

Your knees had buckled at the doorway, and you gripped the frame to steady yourself. The officers standing there looked uncomfortable, their expressions rigidly neutral—trained to deliver this kind of news. But the words pierced through you like shards of glass.

Dead.

The word was too final, too cruel. The last time you had seen him, he was adjusting his uniform, brushing away your tears with a soft smile. “I’ll be back before you know it,” he’d said, voice steady despite the emotion behind it. “You just need to wait for me.”

“I’ll wait forever if I have to,” you had whispered, and he had kissed you like it was both a promise and a goodbye.

But forever had arrived too soon.

The days that followed were a blur. You had buried yourself under his hoodies and blankets, surrounded by everything he had left behind. His scent lingered faintly on the fabric, and you would close your eyes, inhaling deeply, pretending he was still there. His absence became a constant, deafening silence. The faintest noise—footsteps in the hallway, the sound of a car passing by—had you glancing at the door, hoping against all logic that he might walk in.

Nights were the worst. You’d lie in bed, clutching his old pillow, staring at the ceiling while the world outside moved on without him. Memories came in waves—his laugh, his warmth, the way he’d tuck your hair behind your ear when he thought you weren’t looking. And then the tears would come, unbidden and endless, until sleep finally claimed you in exhaustion.

You kept all the letters he had sent during his deployment in a wooden box under the bed. When the pain became unbearable, you’d pull them out, running your fingers over the creased paper as if touching his words could bring him back.

“I’m counting the days until I see you again,” one letter said. “Don’t forget about me, okay?”

As if you ever could.

On the day of what would have been your third anniversary, you visited the beach where he had first told you he loved you. The tide was high, the waves crashing against the rocks as fiercely as your emotions. You sat in the sand with a bouquet of wildflowers, whispering your feelings to the ocean as if it could carry your words to wherever he might be.

“I miss you so much, Jeno. I don’t know how to do this without you.”

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

Three years later, on a rainy afternoon, you wandered the small coastal town you had once loved together. Your umbrella was useless against the wind, and you ducked into a café to escape the downpour, more out of habit than need. The bell above the door jingled, and you shook out your wet hair, already reaching for a napkin to dab your face.

And that’s when you saw him.

He was by the counter, asking about pastries in a voice that was achingly familiar. Your heart stuttered, a desperate hope rising in your chest. The man—no, it couldn’t be—turned slightly, and your breath caught.

“Jeno?” The word escaped you before you could stop it, fragile and full of disbelief.

He turned toward you, his brow furrowing in confusion. His eyes, those same dark eyes you’d memorized, locked onto yours, but there was no recognition.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a long pause. “Do I know you?”

Your legs felt like they might give out. The barista’s voice asking for his order was distant static. You stumbled forward, clinging to the edge of a table for balance. “Jeno, it’s me.”

He tilted his head slightly, as if trying to place the name. But there was only polite confusion in his expression. “I’m sorry. I think you have me confused with someone else.”

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

The grief you thought you’d left behind resurfaced like a fresh wound, raw and unrelenting. That night, you opened the wooden box with trembling hands, reading through the letters again. But this time, his words felt like echoes from another lifetime, written by a man who didn’t exist anymore.

You learned the truth through painstaking effort. Jeno’s parents confirmed your worst fears: he had been the lone survivor of an explosion that claimed his unit. Rescued by a family in a remote village, he’d been hospitalized for months, suffering from severe injuries and memory loss.

“He doesn’t even remember us,” his mother said, her voice tight with unshed tears. “We’ve tried, but he’s… different now. He’s living in Seoul, trying to build a life, but he’s not the Jeno we knew.”

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

The next time you saw him, it wasn’t by accident. You waited outside the bookstore where you’d discovered he worked part-time, clutching a photo album in your hands. When he emerged, you called out to him.

“Lee Jeno.”

He turned, frowning slightly. “Yes?”

You held up the album, your fingers trembling. “You don’t remember me, but I… I loved you. We were going to get married before you left for the military.”

He blinked, clearly caught off guard. “What?”

“This is us,” you continued, opening the album to a photo of you at the beach. He stared at it, his expression unreadable.

“I…” He trailed off, his hand brushing against the image as if it might trigger something. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll try,” you whispered. “Try to remember. Or if you can’t, let me help you make new memories.”

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

It wasn’t an easy road. There were moments of hope, like when he smiled at a story you told about your first date. And moments of despair, like when he pushed you away, frustrated by the weight of expectations he couldn’t fulfill. His friends and family tried to help, but even they admitted that the Jeno they had known might never come back fully.

But you didn’t give up. You took him to the places you had once loved, surrounded him with the people who had shaped his life. Slowly, he began to relax around you, and the gaps in his memory became less of a wall and more of a bridge.

One night, as you sat on the beach where he had first kissed you, he reached for your hand.

“I’m sorry for not remembering,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “But I want you to know… I think I’m falling for you all over again.”

Tears streamed down your face as you leaned into him, your foreheads touching. “Then we’ll start over,” you whispered. “And this time, I’ll hold onto you even tighter.”

The ocean roared behind you, but all you could hear was the sound of his breathing, steady and real. It wasn’t the same love story you had started, but it was yours to write anew.

(Hope you like how I wrote it (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡)

(Requests are welcomed ♡)

[yandere-yearnings]

Sleeping....cuddling with sun...and then grinding against him 🤤 AHAHA my head is filled with sun 🧍‍♀️😇🥰🙏

I WANNA MAKE HIM FLUSTERED SO BAD WILL HE BE FLUSTERED FROM THAT??? being all peaceful and quiet and then outta nowhere I just feel like I wanna give him some loving and just ride him so he won't have to worry about a thing 😔☝️☝️ so I grind against him to initiate 🥰🥰 lemme do all the work for u babygirl 🤗🤗 leave it to me sunny hunny 💋💋

this ask has been sitting in my inbox for so long but i've been meaning to get back to it hhh sorry for the really late reply nonnie!! (and yes he would be super flustered😭🩷)

NSFW under the cut!

Humid nights never felt as peaceful as when he spent them with you. After the day had taken its toll on him, bones heavy feeling like he'd fall forever if you weren't there to catch him. Curled into you, like the second marking in a double inverted comma; chin to your head, back to his chest and his knees pushing up into the undersides of yours.

The heat was sweltering, had you writhing creases into the sheets, your clothes riding up, Sun's skin sticking to yours where his arm wound around your midsection. Neither of you were asleep, the minute hand of the clock kept ticking on the time past, until your restlessness ebbed and you eventually settled into your warm cage.

Silence made his steady breaths seem all too peaceful, removed him from the ever flustered man you knew — and you couldn't help the idea that came to mind in the quiet of the night. He'd finally gotten comfortable with you, enough to bury his face into your nape without imploding, but maybe you missed who he was months ago.

It wouldn't hurt, just to test the power you still held over him.

You stretched your legs out, innocent enough, and though his grip tightened ever so slightly, Sun shifted to accommodate. It had your heart brimming, almost made you smile at how cute his clinginess was. Hips pressed right to his pelvis, you relished in the choked up little sound he made when you moved, grinding right against a part of him that filled for you so easily.

"Y-Y/N..." he moaned, pretty, a symphony cascading with the muffled whimpers that followed. Your hand intertwined with his and he clutched it like a lifeline. "What are you- ah-"

You felt more than heard the shudder that ran through his body, vibrating against your spine deliciously. Whether it was because he was sensitive or because it was you, didn't really matter when you had him twitching and bowing against you.

"What was that, baby?" You cooed, salacious. "Couldn't hear you over how loud you're being."

"Please," he whined, "don't tease me, please, 'm gonna die."

With the way he'd gotten weak, you'd doubt that was a lie. Luckily for Sun, you were nothing if not constantly lead by your desire to indulge him when he begged. It wasn't difficult to hook your digits around his wrist, swiftly peeling him away and twisting so you were on top of him all at once — and pressed into the sheets beneath you, Sun was a masterpiece of a mess. Hair sprawled and chest heaving, blush heavier than you'd ever seen before as he looked up at you under lidded eyes.

One chaste kiss to the tears tracking down his cheek before you pulled away. Temperature a fever pitch that thrummed violently against your palms rested on his chest, you rocked, and his thighs quivered. Entirely fucked out for you despite the fact that this was barely anything, Sun's lips parted on a broken gasp of your name. Lovesick little pleas, over and over like they would endear you to him, make you cave, and that assumption wasn't wrong.

Flicking over his form once in appraisal, what your minuscule actions had reduced him to was enough to whet your appetite. You tugged at the waistband of his sweats, tongue darting out, licking your lips; a promise whispered, "gonna spoil you tonight."

[loveesiren]

OMG HAPPY 1500 QUEEN 😍😍🤩🎉🎉 im so happy you hit the 1.5k mark CAUSE YOU DESERVE IT!!!

May i req a blurb for “kiss me again” with bf jiyong? Thank yew 🥰

Thank you so much my love!!! <3

Vali's 1500 Celebration (CLOSED)

warnings: none!

wc: 589

You stood outside the large, intimidating building—the same one you’d visited before on long weekends when you could drive out and spend a few precious hours with the love of your life. A place with cold floors, guarded gates, and silent, sterile halls. A place that swallowed your boyfriend whole and made you wait two agonizing years for this very moment.

But today was different. Today was October 26th, 2019—the day your heart finally came home.

Your fingers clutched tightly around a bouquet of daisies, his favorite. The paper crinkled under your nervous grip as you rocked back and forth on your heels, your heartbeat fluttering against your ribcage. You tried to listen to the quiet chatter of his mother and sister beside you—casual, light, a conversation stitched with hope—but all you could focus on was those damn doors.

The heavy front doors of the facility loomed ahead, unmoving, making time feel like it was mocking you. You blinked rapidly, trying to shake the sting of anticipation from your eyes. Every sound made your body tense.

Then—they opened.

And there he was.

Still in uniform, just like the last time you saw him. But this time… he was leaving. He wasn’t disappearing behind locked gates or short phone calls. He was walking towards you. Taller, maybe. Stronger, definitely. But his eyes—God, his eyes still held every piece of you he took with him when he left.

“Ji!” you cried out, the name ripping from your chest like a prayer finally answered.

You didn’t wait. Your feet moved before your brain could catch up. You ran, breath hitching, and flung yourself into his arms. He caught you like muscle memory—no hesitation, no pause—just a pure, instinctual hold because he’d been waiting to do this forever. He twirled you in his embrace, both of you laughing and crying all at once.

When your feet touched the ground again, he didn’t let you go. He buried his face into the crook of your neck like it was the only place he could finally breathe. You felt the trembling in his shoulders, the soft, shuddering sobs he tried so hard to muffle.

“I missed you so much…” he whispered, the words breaking against your skin like waves.

You pulled back just enough to cradle his face in your hands, eyes glassy but filled with adoration. You kissed him softly, slowly, like a promise that neither of you would ever have to say goodbye again.

Before you could speak, his family rushed forward, their excitement erupting into joyful cries. His mother clung to him. His sister wrapped her arms around his waist. You stepped back, smiling through your tears as you watched the reunion unfold—the pure love, the years of waiting collapsing into a single embrace.

You wiped a tear from your cheek, your heart full and aching all at once. You remembered how broken you’d felt the night he left. How you’d cried into your pillow and screamed his name. And now… here he was. Whole. Alive. Home.

Once he’d kissed his mother’s temple and hugged his sister tight, he turned back to you. That familiar crooked smile stretched across his face, the one that always made your knees weak.

He stepped toward you, slipping his hand around your waist like no time had passed at all. His touch was grounding. Real.

“Kiss me again,” he said, voice husky, full of need and something soft and sacred.

You didn’t hesitate.

You kissed him like you’d been waiting your whole life to do it.

[myfeetrcolddd]

Down bad...and a little unhinged

It only got worse after Theodore realized just how much he liked her violence. So much more worse that he thought that if he died by her hand it would all be worth it because not only was it by her hand but that she was touching him.

He was sure he was insane. His friends agreed on that fact, especially when he started to provoke the girl even more. His notes had also become more than promiscuous. Reddening the girls cheeks every morning. He was yet to receive a reply from the long haired girl, but her visual reactions were enough fuel.

The Slytherin boy was sitting at the breakfast table, right across from the pretty girl as usual, his chin resting in his hand as he stared at the girl.

Despite what she said, she was affected by him, all of him. It was infuriating, really. The words and promises on those papers he sent her every morning, every day, without fail, sparked something in her. Something she wished to bury deep down forever.

Sure, he was handsome, charming, rich, but he was arrogant and rude, and so immensely hot infuriating. He made her want to punch him. So far it was only slaps and harsh pushes, but she was close to punching him. So very very close.

It also took too much effort to avoid his gaze like this. It was insane, and a wonder as to how he continues to get good grades in all his classes when it seemed that his attention never left the girl when she was around.

The owls swooped into the great hall right on time, brings a grin to Theodores face as he watched his owl perch on her shoulder and neatly give her the note.

Despite her best efforts, the girl had become attached to the bird, so she reached up and scratched beneath the owls chin. It cooed contently and Theodores jaw twitches, he'd never wanted to be a damn bird in his life.

He'd ask what was wrong with him, but he knew there was no point because she was what was wrong with him. And he wouldn't be right until she was his. Not that she wasn't his already.

"Are you listening?" A blonde Slytherin girl snapped her fingers in front of Theodores face and his lips twisted into an annoyed frown. Blondie, as Theo had been calling her since he could not remember her name, would not leave him alone.

She claims that they had slept together once, and that it was the best thing she had ever experienced and that after months of denial she had finally realized that they were meant to be. Theodore thought the girl must be more delusional than him, and that's saying something.

Apparently the girl had been living under a rock since they're supposed "Best Night of Her Life" because everyone in Hogwarts knew Theo was more than obsessed with Y/N, and nearly everyone backed off, not bothering to shoot their shot with her or Theodore.

But there were still a few idiots, like Blondie beside him. "Teddy!" She whines and Theo cringes at the sound. He hated that nickname. It was ridiculous and childish.

Still, he ignored her, watching as his girl put off reading the note he'd written for her. The Blondie surprised him, by touching him. She had grabbed his chin, yanking his head towards her and forcing him to take his eyes off of his girl.

Did she have a death wish?

Theo didn't hold back his glare as he looked down his nose at her. He grabbed her wrist roughly and pulled her hand away from him. Her needy look paled and turned into something fearful, "Do not touch me." He utters the words low and threateningly.

"B-b-but-" She stutters, "But-"

"B-b-b- spit it out!" He snarls and she winces, perhaps he was being too harsh. But if he were anything less then she'd think she had a chance and Blondie needed to know that there was no one for him than the girl who had his owl perched on her shoulder.

"She!" She points across the room, "She touches you!" At this a smile touches Theos lips. Damn right she touched him, sure it was only her slapping, pinching his side, pulling at a strand of hair, and pushing him into fountains and other things, but she touched him nonetheless. And she'd touch him much more if Theo got his way.

"And only her." He says simply, then releases her wrist like she burned him, "Now leave me alone. And get rid of the ridiculous notion that we're soulmates, because my soulmate is sitting right over there." He points across the room, extending his arm fully, with the full intention of others seeing. He knew many people were listening in on the conversation.

Good, he thought. Let this be a message, let everyone know that she is his as he is hers.

That's it for this fic. Dunno how to continue. Might make another one, this is the second one and a follow up from this fic.

Also, sorry if it's a little confusing. I really hate using 'Y/N'

[bbyquokka]

4:59 pm (bc)

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 | bang chan x gender neutral reader

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 | timestamp, smut – 18+ is strongly advised!

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | established relationship, descriptions of sex, reader and chan are grossly in love

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 | 0.6k ~ (666)

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 | im out of the loop when it comes to writing smut so this is kinda like practise plus i just wanted to write something soft

♡ m.list — ♡ you can also read it on my ao3

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

his body feels heavy on top of you but also soothing in a strange way. his fingers slip between yours, fitting perfectly as if fate designed you both fittingly.

it's a cold and wet night, the rain beating against the glass of the window. the moonlight peeking in through the gap of the curtains. occasionally, they'd be a sudden gust of wind entering the bedroom via the open window but the warmth from chan makes it feel like the sun is beating down on your skin.

his soft grunts and groans mix with yours. lips pressing against your already kiss bitten ones as he hungers for more. you feel so nice around him, so snug and warm and he can't help but think and feel like you really were made for him.

your hands pinned by the side of your head by chan’s. his hands squeezing yours as he pushes his length further inside of you. you both let go of that strangled moan that's been teasing the back of your throats as he pushes and pulls.

his sweat-coated chest leans down and rests on yours, head buried in the crook of your neck. you smell salty but sweet, an intoxicating scent that tickles and caresses his nostrils. his breath fans against your hot skin, giving it a cooling sensation that makes goose bumps rise to the surface.

with each rock of his hips, the springs of the mattress creak whilst the sheets are pushed to the side until it's eventually on the wood floor; joining the discarded clothes and underwear.

chan whispers your name over and over again. he makes your name sound so sweet as it rolls off his tongue, dripping in love and sweetness like it's coated in a thick glaze of honey. it makes you feel butterflies.

the pit of your stomach feels warm and fluttery. it rises to the back of your throat where you want to scream from the top of your lungs and let the world know that you love this man! 

your heart feels like it's going to grow legs and jump straight out of your chest. the constant badump, badump, badump ringing in your ears and you wonder if chan can hear the sound of your heart – the sound that he causes.

chan has never felt so smitten before. the love he feels for you is so enormous and strong, that he doesn't know what to do with it. he feels like he could scoop it all up in a box, wrap it up and gift it to you but the love will overflow and spill.

he fears that his love for you is too strong, that it'll scare you away. he wants to care for you, nourish you and hide you away forever and ever.

he would if he could. he doesn't want the outside world to look at you because of how gorgeous you are to him. he's a jealous man but he hides it because he doesn't want to scare you away. he finally has you all to himself so he will do everything in his power to keep you.

he's addicted to you and vice versa. the slow, yet long and powerful thrusts of chan's hips is proof of that. his slow, yet broken panting and words ring in your ears. 

the constant “i love you”s wrapping around your heart a million times over and squeezing it, making you feel chest pain and overwhelmed with how much love this man has for you.

“you’re mine, right?” chan whispers as he lifts up his head to look down at you. his voice is dry and scratchy, but it sounds so beautiful – perfect even. 

you reach up and place your hot palm against his cheek gently, stroking under his eye with your thumb. he responds by placing one hand on top of yours and nuzzling into your palm, eyes fluttering shut as he takes a shaky breath of air.

“always chan. i’m forever yours.”

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 42

part 1 | part 41 | ao3

cw: irreverent religious imagery, general fucknastiness, minors look away (informal D/s dynamics, fingering, cum play, take me to church)

—

“Ohhhhh, fuck, oh fuck oh fuckohfuckoh—”

Eddie yanks his hips up higher. He’s got him hoisted up in bridge pose: weight up on his shoulders, cock aimed at his own mouth and threatening to blow, legs squeezing Eddie’s hips as Eddie pulls him apart. One hand spears three slick fingers inside him while the other delivers pleasure and penance, stroking him off so sweetly one second then striking tender flesh the next, and hysterically Steve thinks of the girl he lost his virginity to; how she kept making all these breathy, whiny cries in the back seat of his car — so big so full oh fuck Steve oh my god. Steve had always assumed she was embellishing a bit for his benefit, y’know? Like

Reality: Ribbed for His Pleasure.

But now Eddie crooks his fingers up while his free hand slaps down mean and sharp on the top of Steve’s thigh, and Steve fucking shouts. Apologizes to Mallory in his mind and lets out a hideous noise, all pitchy and strangled, his throat full of spit, his eyes filled with tears.

Eddie digs his nails into the skin he just slapped. “You wanted this,” he reminds him with a gorgeous, rasping grunt. Feral, filthy noises that shouldn't sound so beautiful but echo through Steve's mind like a pipe organ in a stone chapel.

Eddie twists his buried fingers; makes Steve's whole body clench. “Said you could take it, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” Steve pants, head rocking against the floor with the force of Eddie’s thrusts. Fucking him without fucking him; hips working in tandem with his fingers, pretty pink dick smearing precum on Steve’s thigh.

“Say it,” Eddie commands.

“I can take it.”

“Yeah, you can.” He drapes himself over Steve, bucking against him still, fingers moving faster, breaths speeding up. "My pretty baby," he coos with his mouth hovering inches away. "Can take anything I give you."

Steve licks his lips and wishes, grotesquely, that he had numbers on his wrist. Wants to bend the universe's will so he can stay in this moment forever.

He settles for chasing Eddie's lips with a wet kiss, straining his neck to wriggle his tongue past smiling teeth. "I can take it," he confesses against the slick drag of Eddie's mouth. Repeats the mantra, call and response like he's in church.

Eddie's hand recites the homily, jerking faster, willing release, and he pulls back to aim Steve's aching dick toward his mouth; gives him a serious look. One last chance to bow out.

"Even this?" he asks, readying Steve to pour communion down his own throat.

Steve sticks out his tongue. Looks up at Eddie with wide, reverent eyes — this Hellfire boy with demons inked into his chest — and he thinks this is the closest he's ever felt to God. Something about this feels sacred. Ritualistic renewal; rebirth and covenant.

He nods feverishly.

"Jesus Christ," Eddie groans, and he crooks his fingers in again and squeezes his other hand harder at the base of Steve’s cock. He’s leaking all over him, twitching and flexing as he thrusts; getting Steve all messy and wet between his legs. Steve wants to be fucked so badly he might cry; wants to feel it for real, the head of Eddie’s cock popping past the ring of quivering muscle.

He’s about to ask for it, beg for it — balls drawn tight against his body, tears streaming from his eyes — but then Eddie chants “Open wider, Stevie; you can do it, baby, come on” and Steve baptizes himself, spilling hot over chest and chin, reborn under the guidance of Eddie’s holy, healing hands.

—

part 43

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[charlesslut16]

-a journey through mental health-

summary: Daniel sees you changing your behavior and talks with you about it...

PAIRING: daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

WARNINGS: mental health talk!

note: If you need help with anything, i'm always here for you, my loves

december masterlist ; masterlist   

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As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the tranquil landscape, Daniel Ricciardo sat beside his girlfriend, you, your eyes clouded with a heaviness he had never seen before.

Daniel had always experienced his girlfriend, as the brightest ray of sunshine, like nothing bad had ever touched her. And he so wished that it could have been true, even if he knew in his heart that this hope could not be fulfilled.

You were nestled on a cozy blanket under the shade of a sprawling oak tree, a place you often sought solace in each other's company. It was your comfort place. Forever.

Daniel noticed the subtle shifts in your demeanor over the past few weeks. Your laughter seemed forced, your smile fleeting, and your once bright eyes now held a hint of sorrow.

He could no longer ignore the invisible barrier that seemed to separate you from him, and he knew he couldn't sit idly by any longer. Daniel knew that he needed to say something, to help you, his rock.

"Hey, my love," Daniel said softly, reaching out to gently grasp your hand. He always did this, so you would think it was something so bad, but enough to let you know that this was important.

"You've seemed a little off lately. Is everything okay?"

His words hung in the air, lingering in the space between you like a delicate thread. You sighed, your shoulders slumping under the weight of your hidden burdens.

For weeks, you had tried to mask your struggles, but now, sitting beside Daniel, you couldn't bear to keep up the facade any longer. Your facade had crumbled and laid bare to Daniel.

"I... I don't know, Daniel," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've been feeling... lost. Like I'm drowning in my own thoughts, and I can't find my way back to the surface."

Daniel's heart clenched at your words, the pain evident in your voice cutting through him like a knife. He had always admired your strength and resilience, but now, seeing your vulnerability laid bare before him, he felt a surge of protectiveness wash over him.

Tears started to show in your eyes as you leaned into his embrace, finding solace in his reassuring presence. "I'm sorry, Dan," you murmured, her voice choked with emotion. "I don't mean to burden you with my struggles."

"Hey, it's okay," Daniel murmured gently, pulling you into his warm and safe embrace. "You don't have to face this alone. I'm here for you, always. Do not forget this, ever."

Tears welled in your eyes as you buried your face in his chest, your grip on him tightening, as if you feared he would disappear if you let go. At that moment, Daniel vowed to be your rock, your anchor in the storm raging within you.

Just as you were for him.

"You're not alone in this, love," Daniel whispered lovely, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "We'll get through this together, one step at a time. No rush."

And so, beneath the starlit sky, Daniel held you close, his arms a shield against the darkness that threatened to consume you. He hated himself for not seeing this sooner.

With each whispered word of reassurance, he reminded you that you were loved, cherished, and worthy of all the happiness in the world. And he would gladly give it to you.

As you sat in the quiet comfort of each other's arms, you felt a glimmer of hope stir within your heart. With Daniel by your side, you knew you could weather any storm, no matter how fierce.

At that moment, amidst the shadows of uncertainty, their love shone brighter than ever before.

And as the night stretched on, Daniel held you close, whispering words of love and reassurance until the darkness gave way to the light of a new day.

In the days that followed, Daniel stood by your side as you embarked on the journey toward healing. Together, you faced the highs and lows, the triumphs and setbacks, knowing that as long as you had each other, you could weather any storm.

And though the road ahead was fraught with challenges, Daniel remained steadfast in his love and support, a beacon of hope guiding you through the darkest of nights.

For in his arms, she found solace, strength, and the courage to believe that brighter days were just beyond the horizon.