#he doesn't need to “prove himself” to deserve it

[brownblob]

Home Sweet Home

Jim Walters x GN!Reader

Summary: Getting accustomed to your lifestyle with Jim while he can only preoccupy himself with thoughts of you. You never once thought he'd become your safety net but some things are just fate.

TW: Suggestive, toxic relationship dynamics, yandere, creepy Jim (ish?)

Consume, the need to devour you was necessary. It was a thought that engulfed him entirely - from his body to his mind. All he thought of was you, who was so close. Just a room away and sometimes right in front of him, sitting in silence - the carving on your neck, a collar of sorts displayed like a trophy. A rabbit, skittish like you - distrusting too.

Finally in his grasp, defiant or pliant, something he could mold - though not with the intention to change. It was with the intention to safe-keep, to help you, he insisted. Fragile things needed help, aid. He wasn't one to brag like that, not at first at least - but it was a fact, wasn't it?

You who was from a place so far away, locked with him in his little cabin with nowhere to go. Cute. You'd die if you stepped a foot out so he'd graciously take responsibility - hold you in his shaky arms, hoping you wouldn't find him repulsive. How could he not quake with you so near? How beautiful you were, so close yet so far. Lashes coated in tears, body moving in jagged steps. All to get away from him. Quite rude of you, he wouldn't push though. Not yet, as long as you stayed. Stayed close to him, within his gaze, under his nose, so close that he could touch you - just to make sure you weren't a fleeting dream.

Though the need for you wouldn't go away, the desire to melt into you - become one. So close, so utterly in sync. His movements would be smooth, as gentle as he could be in this moment of exasperation. Desperation as he pinned you beneath him, so full of life as you struggled for steadiness.

Struggle as you may, you have nowhere to go. So stay and melt under his touch, cry for him as he does for you, yearn for him. Tremor beneath him as he engulfs you, skin on skin so sinfully pure - the act of becoming one as you place your hands on his chest, stabilizing yourself.

Icy eyes look down at you adoring or obsessive, hands either gentle or rough, body warm or cold, and words sweet or biting.

Stupid you are for trying to run, he warned you it would hurt you - now he's the one who has to patch you up. You cry into his shoulder as he awkwardly cradles your body, cursing himself as his blush deepens. Blame him for all he's worth but to be depended on by you was all he ever wanted. Hands in your hair as he talks to you, warming up your body. A kiss to your forehead as he relishes in your stillness, comfort. How long has it been? You aren't sure. You never did end up going back to the Little Cub Cabin. You ponder as you sip the drink he's given you. You swear it has something in it, though he proved you wrong by gulping it one go once. Nevertheless it doesn't make sense. Why else do you always end up in bed after. Limbs tangled together as your head pounds. Not that you mind, not anymore. Not when he is home.

.

.

.

Home sweet home.

Note: AHHHHHH i"ve been so obsessed with this game since playing it and oml oml this man deserves more content on him. I know this isn't my usual content but i just HAD to. Also creator/author @hereisremina of this game YOU COOKED SERVED AND ATE. I hope this little fic shows my appreciation (more coming) for the absolute artwork you've produced. Note 2: So guys i know it's been SOOOOOOO long since i last posted something significant and I am so sorry. It's been really difficult with responsibilities and a LOT of writers block. I'll try making more content but I might also be branching out to other fandoms than just TWST, as you can see here. My guilty pleasures are yanderes (yes I am self obsessed because i wanna be the one thing that consumes another's thoughts. Sue me.) so I might be focusing on such content now...who knows

Note 3: If you enjoyed this, please interact with this post, my blog, and reblog! Any kind gestures are greatly appreciated! Thank you!

[theangryhistoriananna]

Whenever people claim Lucien never cared about Feyre past her connection to Tamlin and then Elain I always wonder if we've read the same books.

Like I can think of a TON of moments that showcase, starting in ACOTAR that Lucien did care for Feyre and considered her a friend but these five especially stick out for me:

But Beron had been part of that alliance, if I correctly recalled my lessons with Rhys all those months ago. "And yet here you are, ready to march with Hybern." "I did it for you, too, you know." Cold, hard words. "I went with him to get you back." "I never realized with a powerful motivator guilt can be." [.....] I said quietly, "Thank you. For coming to Hybern to get me." He pulled at the moss beside him, jaw tight. "It was a trap. What I thought we were to do there....it did not turn out that way." -ACOWAR 30

Lucien unbuttoned his jacket but remained mostly dressed as he slid onto his sleeping roll. "I think it's worse because you two haven't....I mean, you haven't, right?" I stiffened, tugging the blanket higher onto my shoulders. "No. I don't want to be touched like that-not for a while." His silence was heavy-sad. I hated the lie, hated it for how filthy it felt to wield it. "I'm sorry" he said. And I wondered what else he was apologizing for as I faced him in the darkness of our tent. -ACOWAR 56

....It's old magic-old and strange. It's why we avoid bargains unless it's necessary: even the scholars at the Day Court don't know how it works. Believe me, I've asked." "For me-you asked them for me." "Yes. I went last winter to inquire about breaking your bargain with Rhys." "Why didn't you tell me?" "I-we didn't want to give you false hope. And we didn't dare let Rhysand get wind of what we were doing, in case he found a way to interfere. To stop it." -ACOWAR 56

Tamlin had begged my forgiveness at dinner yesterday-and I'd given it to him. But Lucien hadn't spoken to him all evening. -ACOWAR 71

I was running out of borrowed time. I could winnow, but then I'd abandon Lucien to them if he somehow couldn't manage to himself with the faebane in his system from the food at the camp- Leave him. I should and could leave him. But to a fate perhaps worse than death- His russet eye gleamed. "Go" I made my choice. -ACOWAR 91

I often seen the last one used as evidence that Feyre was a good friend to Lucien who didn't deserve it and it always flabbergasts me that people think that from that passage of all passages. That entire scene is mostly just Feyre mentally complaining because stepping in and helping Lucien (who is being SA'd when she finds him and then later is having his life and/or sanity threatened) is causing her to waste time she needs to flee. She keeps telling herself that now that Alis is gone she doesn't need to feel guilty for what happens to Spring Court-including Lucien. She only steps in to protect Lucien from Ianthe because it's Ianthe and her hatred of her is stronger than her empathy for what Lucien went through. She only steps in and decides to stay and fight the twins AFTER Lucien urges her to leave him and save herself.

Lucien again and again and again steps in and protects Feyre, gives her advice, comforts her, argues with Tamlin for her, puts himself in danger for her, gives her presents (despite not getting any in return) and proves himself to be what Rhys told Feyre later in ACOWAR: loyal to a fault.

Not just to Elain, not just to Tamlin, not just the Band of Exiles. But to her as well. To Feyre almost most of all.

and in return Feyre takes his genuine concern for her and protectiveness over her and wields it as a weapon to tear his home down and goad Tamlin into violence with little care. She takes her friend and at best considers him a tool to be used for her and Night Court's benefit and expects him to show her nothing but gratitude.

I do think Feyre loves Lucien and wants him to stay in her life, but honey Lucien was always the better friend.

[velorvm]

i have opened and closed your asks at least three times. i have come to you in shame to ask you about sunday and fingers.

sedkhlflkdf, at least three times??? and in shame??? niku-neko, there's no reason to feel shame sdkljfsdlkf (fingers got nothing to do with feathery pubes, soooooo)

to sunday, any touch carries a certain weight. so, inevitably, his fingers ever only meet the skin of people he deeply cares about. and with his touch, there's a certain devotion permeating each gesture. the way his fingers trail over your facial features, over your throat, and even lower as he's mesmerized by everything that makes you you, and his heart shakes with the way he feels about you, feeling the need to dedicate himself to you fully and truly. every time his fingers touch your skin, it's feather-light, nothing more than a graze, and yet, it feels like so much more. he loves drawing along the line of your face and jawline, to cup your face with his palm and to be able to keep you safe within his grasp that easily. also, nothing beats intertwining your fingers together, feeling as if there's no other way to get even closer to you than this. touching him can easily elicit a reaction out of him. he's so unused to any contact, so the lightest touch is capable of making him melt underneath your touch. he's incredibly sensitive and conscious of you, of every single one of your fingers trailing up his exposed throat and over his skin. it makes him feel hot and he doesn't quote know what to do with himself. and if you happen to touch his wings or halo, you can easily make a mess out of him, as they're so so so sensitive, he's a complete mess underneath your touch, pure putty just for you. and he loves when you touch and prod at him, shivering and almost moaning at the contact, because it shows him how much you want him, how much you want to learn and to know him.

he loves fingering you, ngl. he's so good with his fingers due to various reasons, and he can use his abilties to bring you the pleasure you deserve. and he's a fast learner. he immediately notices how you react to certain stimuli and will act accordingly, moving just how you like it, pressing at the exact spots you need. he loves nothing more than to show you his love by giving you pure ecstacy with his own fingers. and your warmth and wetness around his digits make him feel a certain way he can't quite explain, but will get weird about for sure. as easily as you can make him a mess with a couple of touches, he absolutely falls apart when you wrap your fingers around him. his sensitivity mixed with the vulnerability makes him absolutely dizzy and he's just completely done. just watching you take care of him with your fingers, on your own, is something that gets him going he almost cums the moment you even touch him in the first place. and maybe he will if you already stimulated him through his wings and halo.

as he's keen to devote himself to you to prove himself, he will take your fingers into his mouth and meticulously suck on your fingers, and lap and lick endlessly. maybe he leaves a mark in his eagerness, and when he sees it, something in him just snaps and you could never go on without your fingers being marked by him in one way or another. he takes such good care of you, making sure that you enjoy it fully, and that you understand and feel his utmost love towards you as he looks up to you while your fingers lay comfortably in his warm mouth. to him, in a way, this feels like a prayer. similarly to the above, any stimulation can easily make a mess out of him. so once you take his bare fingers into your mouth, his brain stops working and it seems like he might overheat. all he can do is let you completely take over and watch the way you love him. the warmth and wetness strike weird feelings in him, and they feel way too similar to the ones when he's touching you. maybe it's the fact that he can reach deep into your insides like that, deeper than anyone ever.

(fingers!!)

[m00n-d34r3st]

My favorite niche thing about mikey is how he always seem to be super successful when he takes on a career path he's very passionate about and is able to make a name for himself from literary below rock bottom nothing and it blows my mind how it's almost never talked about.

I want more of mikey girlbossing his way out of the sewer, and I need it now.

[burningcheese-merchant]

I think

Didn't Jack's reasoning develop Daddy Issus in him ??

You mean his extreme perfectionism? It contributes to it, yeah. Kind of a chicken and egg scenario tbh, hard to say which came first. Did Jack's fear of disappointing his father predate his perfectionism, and ultimately lay the foundation of its existence? Or was he born believing he always needs to be more than he is, and that impostor syndrome ended up creeping into his thoughts and feelings regarding his father? Who can say? He's not doing himself any favors regardless. In this situation, Jack is his own worst enemy. His feelings of inadequacy are like a perpetual motion machine. Always devising and "fulfilling" its own prophecies

If they would just sit down and talk to each other man-to-man, it would make a big difference. But Burning Spice hasn't been any good at talking to people in a long time (no matter how much better he's gotten as a person, there are just some things you lose that you'll never get back. Not after living a life like that), and Jack, well-intentioned little martyr that he is, never likes to talk about his problems. He buries them deep and focuses on doing right by others instead, all the time and forever. It's not healthy. It would hit a lot closer to home if his father sat him down, looked him in the face and told him he doesn't always need to put himself last, and he doesn't need to be afraid of not being good enough, because he is. He always has been.

[mamawasatesttube]

thinking abt kon getting hurt/upset about something big and clark bundling him up in his cape... ouuhhhhh souperfam save me...

[mashmouths]

jeongin did "creep" and seungmin did "high and dry" it's time for minho to cover "talk show host"

[seokmattchuus]

am still perplexed how they got hui on bp when he's written and produced songs for the produce series. great vocalist, too bad his company isn't doing him much justice

-📚

I really think they lucked out with him applying. Like, there weren't a bunch of well-known trainees to carry the hype of the show. However, it's insane to me that he wasn't considered as a judge the way he is with starlight boys. Iqiyi out here doing what mnet won't

[taughtdefense]

@taughtpain

Jackie Taylor (+ Shauna) | miscellaneous character study

F. Scott Fitzgerald, Flappers and Philosophers

Carol Rifka Brunt, Tell the Wolves I'm Home

Leanna Firestone, Two Week Notice

Black Wing, Twinkling

Madison Beer, Good In Goodbye

a.j., vulnerability

Rainer Maria Rilke, The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge

Caroline Polachek, Pang

Pablo Neruda, Tonight I Can Write (The Saddest Lines)

Taylor Swift, Fifteen

[pixie-felix]

Lee Felix Definitely Doesn't Have a Mommy Kink.

Word count: 1.5k

Content: mommy kink, edging, tiny bit of bondage (just wrists), very mild dirty talk (because Felix is a good boy), begging, crying, hand job, blow job, cowgirl... I'm going to hell aren't I?

Heavily inspired by this by @emdaudied

Smut under the cut. Minors dni.

“I do NOT have a mommy kink.”

Felix is so cute when he pouts. Even when he's lying.

“That's not what you said last night…”

“It was ONE TIME.” You love teasing him so much. He turns such a pretty shade of pink, he's all glowy. Not even covering his face with his hands can hide it. “It was just one time.”

“It was literally last night.”

“I was distracted.”

“You were distracted… thinking about your mommy?”

The look of horror on his face as he realises what he just implied is… you wish you could to take a picture of it and hang it on your wall. You know Felix doesn't call his mother mommy, but that's not the point you're making here.

“You were thinking about your mommy last night, while I was riding you like a prize pony?”

He's like a fish out of water, gulping for air and looking a little more than mildly alarmed.

“It's okay baby, I don't mind. I can be your mommy if it gets you off…”

“I DON'T HAVE A MOMMY KINK!”

“...wanna prove that?”

Felix is so cute with hands tied above his head, a whimpering shivering mess as you deny him his third orgasm.

“Are you going to be a good boy now?"

Felix is always a good boy, but it's just so fun to make him beg for it.

“I'll be a good boy, I'm your good boy, I'll be such a good boy for you…"

His babbling stops with a help as you run a finger up his shaft, swirling around his weeping cockhead. His eyes wide and lips parted as he watches you gathering his pearly essence on your fingertip, holding it up to show him, before sucking your finger into your mouth.

His moan is music.

But you like it better when he uses his words.

“P-p-please baby, please baby, please baby just fucking touch me…”

The look of relief on his face when you decide to finally have mercy and start jerking him off properly. Between that face and the rock solid meatstick in your hand, the one that's brought you so much pleasure… it's enough to make you drip.

But no one likes a dry hand job, so you make sure to spit on his dick for lube before you start dragging your hand up and down. Noice and firm, the way Felix likes it best.

“Y-yes, yes, ye-esss, please baby just like that- don't stop, baby please don't stop…”

He's so desperate to cum. But he also never wants you to stop.

So he squeezes his eyes shut. He wants to watch you play with his cock, it's one of his favourite things. But he's not ready for this to end yet, so he has to deny himself the view of watching you pleasure him.

He's a mess.

Oh, the beautiful agony of edgeplay.

You love edging him, watching him get all sweaty, his hair sticking to his slick forehead as he writhes at your touch.

But you're a fully grown woman with needs of your own. And what you need, is Felix's dick. Preferably fucking you blind.

But before that, you've got a point to prove.

So you start working up the pace, quickening your wrist until you're going fast enough to make your arm start to cramp.

Felix is practically vibrating with the effort to keep still and not buck up into your hand. (Like the last three times, and the last three denied orgasms.)

“Keep still baby, you know the rules. Aren't you supposed to be a good boy?”

“I'm a good boy, I'm a fucking good boy, I'm your good boy-” Felix interrupts himself with a particularly beautiful moan, “I'll do anything you f-fucking say, I fucking promise, just please baby… please.”

He has been a good boy. He deserves a special treat.

his eyes snap open when he feels your lips around his cock, lapping at his slit. Crying out when you start digging your tongue into it. You should really get him a sounding rod.

Maybe for Christmas.

He's getting more and more desperate as you tease him with your tongue. From the way his hands are flexing in their restraints, you know he's fantasing about grabbing your head and forcing you down.

Making you take him nice and deep so he can fuck the back of your throat. Gagging around him, drowning somewhere between his dick and your own spit.

Well, his wish is your command.

Smacking sounds fill the room as you suck him down, making sure to make it messy.

“Oh god, just like that. Just like th-that. Feels so go-o-ood-”

It's amazing what a little drool can do to a man.

You speed up a little, cutting off his words mid sentence as his dick hits the back of your throat. You both love it when Felix is reduced to a whimpering mess by your touch, but today you're sucking him off with purpose.

You're going to make him say it.

It won't be long now.

He's so close to giving in, you know it.

He's biting his lips, trying so hard not to say it, but you know.

And when you start humming contentedly as his legs start to shake, you know that he knows you know.

“Mmm-mm-mmm…”

The obscene, wet pop as you release his dick from your mouth is almost drowned out by his cry.

And he is crying, looking at you with wide eyes, tears gathering at the corner as you sit up. Licking your lips like his salty precum is the most delicious thing you've ever tasted.

“Is there something you want, baby?”

“Mm-mm…” His moans are almost squeaky now. He's desperate for you.

You switch to his favourite position, moving so that you're on your knees, straddling him with just enough space that his dick is barely skimming your cunt. The tears start to fall, and he whimpers.

There's a reason cowgirl is a classic.

You take him in hand and slo-o-owly brush him up and down your folds, listening to his choked sobs as you coating him in your slick. Taunting him, teasing him. Showing him how fucking wet you are, as your juices run down his dick.

He breaks.

“M-mommy.” It's quiet, barely more than a whisper, but he said it. “Mommy.”

He's being too quiet. So you kick up the teasing a notch, lining him up with your entrance and pushing down just slightly. Just a little giving, but nowhere near enough to actually penetrate.

He knows what you want.

“Mommy, please.” You let him have a little more, lowering yourself onto his tip a fraction more, but he's being too quiet.

“Mommyyyy….”

Felix’s voice breaks. He knows he's lost, so there's no point holding back now.

“Use me mommy. Use me. Please.”

Well, how could you refuse?

You sink down, taking him balls deep in one fluid stretch.

Usually you'd take your time, savour the feeling of him stretching you out.

Teasing him, making him beg for you. Beg for you to to go a little faster, a little harder.

A little more “please mommy yes mommy just like that mommy mommy mommy moMMY a-aa-aaa-”

But today you're going to ride him like a prize fucking pony straight out the gate.

Fucking the cum out of both of you while Felix begs for it like the good boy he is.

“M-mommy please, p-please let me cum. Please let me cum mommy, I’ve been so good. I've been a good boy, I've been such a good boy, please let me cum mommy please let me cum…”

The faster you bounce, the louder he pleads.

“-please mommy please mommy please please please momMY PLEASE MOMMY PLEASE MOMMY MOMMY MOMMY MOMMY MOMM-”

He cums so hard you swear you feel him shoot through your cervix. Coating your insides white and sticky as he breaks out of his wrist restraints, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you down.

Squashing your tits against his chest, holding you bruise-tight as he ruts up into you, giving you absolutely everything as he tries to fuck you through his orgasm.

That's what sends you over.

You've been mean and unfair and teasing him for hours, but. Felix is a good boy who always wants to get you off.

Fucking you even when he's overstimulated and sore, until he finally feels you clenching around him, clenching around him hard as your orgasm hits you like a freight train.

It takes you both a few moments to recover, the room silent except for the sound of panting.

You try to detangle yourself, but Felix just pulls you closer, humming happily, his arms like a vice. Pulling you close like you're a blanket he wants to wrap himself up in and never leave.

He relents eventually, murmuring sweet things and cupping your face with his hands as you kiss him deeply.

He's a good boy.

“Such a good boy.”

“Mmm…” His after sex sounds are some of your favourites.

“...a good boy with a mommy fetish.”

Felix groans and hides his face in your neck.

“Shut up.”

this is a side blog so any reposts are appreciated, I will repay you in cake and pixie dust 🧚‍♀️

m.list

[daryltwdixon]

Joel Miller x Reader drabble

Fluffy Jackson!Joel, age gap mentioned but not specified, angsty Joel thinking he doesn't deserve you I'm gonna vom I'm so emotional about Joel Miller this morning. Yeah it’s a little corny idc. Lightly inspired by Sabrina Carpenter's Slim Pickins

You never cared much for the boys in Jackson.

It wasn’t that they were all bad—not really. Some were decent enough, kind in that overeager way that made it clear they wanted to be seen as something more than just survivors. The younger ones, the ones your age, all had something to prove. Like they thought the end of the world meant they had to carve out their place in it with their fists, their bravado, their talk of patrols and takedown counts.

You weren’t interested.

You wanted someone steady. Someone who didn’t feel the need to boast, who didn’t make survival a contest, who wasn’t fumbling to figure out who they were even after all these years.

And that’s why your eyes always found Joel Miller.

He never tried to be charming. Never played the fool. Never talked just to hear himself speak. Matter of fact, you hardly heard him speak at all unless Ellie or Tommy were around. In any other conversation you managed to overhear, he was polite but always a man of few words. 

He was older, rough around the edges, sharp where others were soft. He was the kind of man who knew how to build things, how to keep them standing. You admired that. Admired the way his hands were always busy, fixing things, sharpening knives, reinforcing weak spots in the town’s defenses. Admired the way he looked after Ellie without making a show of it, the way he always sat with his back to a wall, eyes scanning like he could predict trouble before it came knocking.

The only problem was getting him to see what had been so obvious to you from the start.

Joel had been stubborn.

The first time you flirted with him—really flirted—he’d just blinked at you, like he thought he misheard. The second time, he’d scoffed, muttered something about "findin’ someone your own damn age." The third time… Well, that one had been his mistake.

Because you’d caught him looking.

It was just a flicker, just a second. But it was real. You’d seen it in the way his eyes lingered, the way his jaw tensed like he was biting down a thought he didn’t want to have. That was when you knew.

It was only a matter of time.

And now—now he was here.

Warm and solid beneath you, his arm heavy around your waist, his fingers tracing absentminded circles against your bare skin. The room smelled like both of you, like sweat and shared warmth and something slow-burning, something that had taken its time getting here. You were tangled up in each other, bare bodies draped together in the low morning light, catching your breath as the quiet hum of Jackson began to wake up just beyond the window.

“Tell me somethin’,” he muttered.

“Anything,” you murmured, your lips pressing gently into the warmth of his neck.

He sighed, the sound more exasperated than anything, his head turning on the pillow to look at you. His big eyes were so full of tenderness, but something flickered in them—a hesitation, a question he’d been holding onto longer than he wanted to admit.

“Why me?”

You stared at him for a long moment before a smirk twitched on your lips, and you ran your fingers through his graying curls, watching the way his eyes fluttered at the feeling.

“Haven’t you heard?” you teased, voice laced with playfulness, “It’s the end of the world, Mr. Miller. It’s slim pickin’s around here.”

Joel huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head, rolling his eyes like he wasn’t gonna let you get away with that answer.

But before he could grumble something about being an old man, you slid your hand down, fingers trailing over his chest, slow and sure, until you could feel the steady thump-thump of his heart beneath your palm.

"Good thing," you murmured, voice softer now, "you’re exactly the man I want."

Joel exhaled, long and slow.

And maybe, maybe that should have been enough to satisfy him.

But it wasn’t.

Because you knew he had lived too many years and lost too many things to believe in easy answers. He had spent too much time walking through hell to believe he had come out on the other side deserving of this.

His fingers curled against your hip, like he was testing it. The weight of you against him, the warmth of you in his bed. Maybe still half-convinced that this was something he’d wake up from.

You sighed, nudging your nose against his jaw. “Joel.”

He hummed, but it was barely a sound, like he didn’t quite trust himself to speak.

So you tried again. Softer this time. “Do you really think I would ever want anyone else?”

He didn’t answer.

You traced your fingers along his chest, slow and thoughtful, your mind drifting somewhere neither of you had ever dared to go before.

“I wonder sometimes,” you admitted, “what it would’ve been like. If we’d met before.”

Joel hesitated, his brows furrowing as he looked at you, eyes scanning your face. 

You let the thought settle between you, warm and quiet.

“Think about it,” you mused, your voice dipping into something thoughtful, something wistful. “Would we have even met? In a normal world?”

You could see the flicker of something behind his eyes. A life that could have been. A life that was gone before either of you had a chance to claim it.

“I was just a kid in Texas when everything happened,” you murmured. “Would’ve grown up, maybe gone to college, gotten some easy job that didn’t mean anything. You would’ve still been…” you swallowed, “you.”

A father. Maybe a husband at some point. A man with a life already built.

“Maybe I would’ve walked past you somewhere,” you continued. “At a store. A gas station. Maybe you would’ve held a door open for me, and I wouldn’t have thought twice about it.”

Joel’s fingers tightened against you like he was grounding himself in this moment. His voice was steady when he spoke. No hesitation, no doubt.

“I would’ve noticed you.”

You lifted your eyes to meet his, breath caught in your throat as your hand slid higher, up to the side of his face, thumb brushing along his cheekbone. “Would you?”

Joel exhaled softly, leaning into your touch without thinking, his eyes tracing over your face like he was memorizing every piece of you.

“‘Course I would’ve,” he murmured. “Doesn’t matter when or where. Could’ve been another life, another world—" his thumb stroked absently along your waist, voice dipping into something quiet, something certain—"I still would’ve found you.”

The words settled into you, warm and heavy, threading through your ribs, curling tight around your heart.

Then, suddenly, he was smiling—just a little—as his hand came up to your face, cupping your jaw, his thumb sweeping along your cheek.

“Maybe in a normal world, I’d be the one pesterin’ you instead of the other way around.”

You laughed, tilting your chin up as you leaned closer. “I only ‘pestered’ ‘cause you’re too damn stubborn.”

Joel huffed softly, shaking his head like you were trouble, like you’d gotten under his skin in a way he’d never be able to shake.

But he pulled you closer, his fingers curled beneath your chin, tilting your face up just enough. His gaze flickered over you—your eyes, your lips—like he was taking his time, like he wanted to make sure you were committed to his memory.

And then he kissed you, slow and deep, breathing you in. Like a promise. Like an answer to a question neither of you had to ask.

His hand moved to the back of your head, lacing into your hair, the other tracing a slow path down your spine, pulling you against him until there was no space left between you. You sighed into him, melting, your fingers tangling into his hair as he deepened the kiss, as he drank you in like you were something precious, something he never wanted to lose.

When you finally parted, just barely, your forehead resting against his, his breath was warm against your lips.

“See?” you murmured, softer this time, “Slim pickin’s or not, I still would’ve found my way to you, Joel Miller.”

He exhaled, low and content, pressing one last lingering kiss to your lips before murmuring against them—

“I know.”

And this time, he did believe you.

[deikshen]

Me, working on the teenpregnant Shen Yuan: Well, Yue Qingyuan wouldn't be a bad father to Shen Yuan...

My inner Peerless Cucumber: Are you CRAZY? Of course he would be. This man doesn't have the courage to give AN explanation. He just bows his head and apologizes. He never defends the man he clearly loves; he simply believes others' horrible assumptions and tries to excuse him. And it doesn't matter if Shen Jiu makes those accusations real, proving him, proving what he will do. NO! Yue Qingyuan continues to lower his head submissively, enjoying the contempt because he believes he deserves it. It's what he thinks he deserves. He thinks he deserves that punishment, that making him suffer like that makes his Xiao Jiu happy. EVEN IF IT IS NOT SO! He just assumes and acts, but even in his assumptions, never gives rise to what Shen Jiu really feels or wants. He makes him look worse even unintentionally, when Shen Jiu just wanted a fucking explanation.

Now put a fucking baby on the table. Shen Jiu will say: This is MY son. Mine and no one else's. And Shen Jiu will wait (as always, waiting) Yue Qingyuan gets some balls and say: No, he's my son too, let me be there for him. Let me provide as his father, let me take care of him. Shen Jiu will wait for Yue Qingyuan to break through his mask of indifference, to ruin his fake smile, to do something. For God's sake. To take the initiative for once in his life.

... And Yue Qingyuan wouldn't. He would respect that Shen Jiu has said that he doesn't recognize him as the other father of his child. He would keep his distance, giving expensive gifts to the child who grows every day with his Xiao Jiu's face but his own dark, gentle eyes. He remains like the uncle, the Zhangmen-shibo, a martial uncle who gives gifts, occasionally visits for tea, who cares about his health, education or cultivation.

And Shen Jiu hates it. He hates his mask. He wants to tear it off and scream at him. But, think about it, Qi-ge wants fucking torture, there's his torture. There's his son, if he has the balls to claim him. There is the son with the huge heart and the poisonous tongue. There is the son who will always look to others before himself, and at the same time will fight tooth and nail for what he wants. You want that child to be yours, Qi-ge? Have the guts and claim him, do something, take the initiative, DO. SOMETHING.

But Yue Qingyuan won't do it because he's convinced of his own shit. He believes in his heart that he is doing the right thing by respecting Shen Jiu and his decision, just as he believes he was doing the right thing by apologizing and not explaining. And Shen Jiu boils in fury daily.

And Shen Yuan grows up with his A-die Shen Jiu, and the distant Yue Qingyuan, Zhangmen-shibo, the martial uncle who he discovers at some point that he is also his father. A father who chooses distance over affection, who chooses respect over choose Shen Yuan or his own parental rights.

Me, looking at my inner Peerles Cucumber with FEAR: ... Bro, are you okay? Do you need therapy? ... Okay, so how the hell do we add that...

[fanged-fanfics]

hello 🤗 hope you're doing great, if it'snt too much could you write a Dark Cacao cookie x sweetheart wife reader please ??

☆ Soft Spot — Dark Cacao x Wife!Reader ☆

Genre: Fluff || she/her pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Dark Cacao prides himself on being solitary, giving a strong demeanor that most will find intimidating enough to listen to. You, however, are the exception to this

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Your kindness and sweet nature helps soften up the king when he needs it. He always eases up when your hand cups his cheek, leaning into your touch

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He could be right in the middle of threatening someone and pause whenever you come in because he doesn't wanna risk scaring you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 It's always a little funny for some others to see you two out together since Dark Cacao is almost always glaring or seems pissed in some way and you have such a radiant grin beside him

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Anyone who tries to tease him about being so sweet to his wife get the most aggressive glare the king can muster ("Just because you are unwed doesn't mean you can throw stones at my wife and I")

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He isn't much for PDA, but he'll let you hold onto his arm and link his with yours while you're handling diplomatic matters together, or an arm around your waist

ᯓᡣ𐭩 You've made it your personal duty to prove wrong his "I don't know how to laugh" claim. You've made him smile and chuckle on bad days more times than he wants to admit

ᯓᡣ𐭩 "I don't know what I've done to deserve a gift such as you, but I hope every day you see just how much I appreciate your presence"

[hufflezki]

summary: remus thinks you're way out of his league. but, to his own surprise, you're here to prove him wrong.

-> remus lupin x gn!reader, just remus yearning & pining, swearing (because, cmon, its remus), inspired by role model's song (with the same name), word count: 1,503

Remus first met you during one of his Herbology classes. Where you helped him with his trouble with the Venomous Tentacula plants. The teethy little bastards annoyed him to no extent—his words—but you had come to his aid and stunned them every time they tried to bite him. He really wanted to make it up to you then, but you insisted. And you never really crossed paths again.

Until James barged into their common room, with you following behind him. Remus noticed you immediately and his breath caught. Turns out James knew you, he had for a while. Ever since he was paired with you for a Charms homework. And you have apparently taught him how to make a flower crown. Which was why James traveled from the courtyard to his common room, just to show his friends the ones you both made.

Remus didn't exactly know how they got you to start hanging out with them. One day you just sat next to them during lunch, and now they’re adding you to every weekend plans that they have. Remus’ friends accepted your addition to the group as if it was just any other day. But for him, it felt quite a lot.

Not to sound like he doesn't like you, it's actually quite the opposite.

Remus could go on with a list about why you're the sweetest person he has ever met. But that’d be never ending, which is probably why he’s in his bed right now, moping to himself about why you just have to be so out of his league. And this was purely coming from after he saw you interacting with Amos Diggory. Even though he probably just asked you a question. Remus shivers at the thought, embarrassed by his own jealousy. He was barely even eating the chocolate you’d given him this morning, having lost the appetite.

Merlin, how did you get him to act like this? He wasn't even supposed to be this miserable so early in the month. And yet here he was curled up in his bed, hiding himself under his blanket, as he let his guilt eat him up. You did look comfortable talking to Amos, though. He wonders if you ever looked at him that way too. If you feel comfortable talking to him at all.

A whine emits from the back of his throat, as he buries his face on his pillows. He was fucked, definitely fucked. You’re too good for him, you deserve someone better. But then he didn't like the image of seeing you with somebody else. So what the fuck is wrong with him?

“Remus? Hey, Moons.” He hears James’ voice as he comes in, closing the door behind him. The curly haired boy comes into Remus’ view with a wide smile, which falters when he sees his friend looking like.. shit. “Woah, what’s gotten into you?” James sits down next to him, eyebrows furrowed, worried. Remus sighs, his mood completely shifted now that James is here. After all, it's hard to wallow in your self-pity when you’ve got company.

“Nothing, I just woke up. What’d you need?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, James, I am quite certain.” Remus presses on, and James lifts his hands up in mock surrender. So, he starts talking about how he’s playing a board game with Sirius and Peter downstairs, and asks Remus if he wants to join. Which he originally said no to, but then James mentioned you’re also downstairs. So, now Remus is making his way down to the common room, following James’ steps.

Did he just spend the last couple of minutes crying about you? Yes.

Was he about to miss an opportunity to be with you? No.

Is he pathetic and a coward? Yes. Abso-fucking-lutely.

And turns out, the only way out of his miserable, depressing, and guilty state is you. You and the sweater you're wearing, that looks oddly similar to his. “Hi, Remus.” You smile once you see him—and it's so bright you might as well put the sun into shame—and he sits down next to you on the sofa.

You must’ve sensed that something's up with him, as you immediately rest your head on his shoulder. And he welcomes it, completely melting once you’re in near proximity. You don’t talk, you don't ask him any questions, you just sit there and offer him your comfort—silently. And maybe that’s just what Remus needs. A moment where he could turn his mind off, and don't let his thoughts consume him.

In a span of an hour, you managed to convince Remus to walk outside. And maybe it's just him trying to distract himself, but he’s pretty sure you might have Legilimency. Because why else would you take him to the Black Lake to see the sunset? If you didn’t know, he felt absolutely horrible? But, on a more serious note, you’ve always been spontaneous. And he likes that about you. Especially, when you pay attention to him so much that you know when things start to feel off.

Things like this, it makes him think if he really does have a chance with you or not.

“This is yours, by the way.” You admit, pulling on his sweater that you’re wearing while looking up at him, expectantly. And his eyes widened. “How?” He seems much more amused than you expected. “I was cold earlier, and this was the first thing Sirius gave me.” Remus raises his brow at the mention of Sirius’ name. “I asked him where he got it, and he said you let him borrow it.” Then you let out a laugh, finding it ridiculous. “Which I was suspicious about, but I didn’t ask him again.”

Fuck, Remus knew exactly why Sirius gave his sweater specifically to you.

“Looks like I have to talk to him about stealing my things.” You smile, glancing up at him and then down on the ground. He watches you kick a few pebbles to the lake, as a comfortable silence falls into you both. Then you say his name, and he hums, meeting your gaze once again.

“If you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here.” It's sudden, and he doesn't exactly know where it came from, but Remus appreciates your sentiment. More than so, when he finds your hand inching closer to his. And he’s never been brave enough to initiate the first move, yet here is, intertwining his hand with yours.

“Is this alright?” Remus whispers, voice coated with uncertainty. He’s already bracing himself to pull away, expecting the worst. But you tighten your hold, pulling him closer to you. “More than alright.” You assure him, lifting the weight off his shoulders. And he thinks this is the most convinced he’s been that he might have a chance with you. Because, all this time—as pathetic as it sounded—he would only wish for something to happen.

So, what if he did sneak into the Divination classroom, and tried to look into a crystal ball to see if there’s a future with the both of you together? He was desperate! Okay? He wouldn't have done it if it wasn't for the nagging voice inside his mind.

But it seems that he no longer has to come up with such desperate measures. As the universe presents with something more interesting. “Can I tell you something, Remus?” You ask, and he nods his head in response.

“I’ve liked you for so long. And this isn't exactly how I imagined I’d tell you–”

“You like me?”

He didn't really mean to interrupt you, but his mind may have short circuited the moment he heard the words ‘I like you’ . You look at him, baffled as to why he’s acting like this is a new discovery. Which it is, for him.

“Wait. You didn't know?” He shakes his head, and you cover your mouth in surprise. “How come? I thought I’d made it so obvious?” You really did think so. I mean, you’re wearing his sweater for Merlin’s sake! But, typical Remus, he’d rather assume the worst than ever think you had the same intentions as him.

“There might’ve been, uhm, some slight issues with the transmission, perhaps?”

“You mean you really didn't have a clue?” He nods his head, and you can't help the sudden laugh that comes out of you. “Did you tell James or Sirius?” Remus asks, and you nod your head. “I told both of them.” He gawks at you, before looking away to run a hand through his hair, frustrated with himself.

“Is that bad? That I only found out about it now?” You shake your head, things were already going the different direction, anyway.

“No, not at all.”

Maybe this isn't how the both of you expected for things to go. Remus thought you’d never like him back, but here he is pulling you closer after you just told him otherwise. And he felt the strong urge to really make it up to you this time.

marauders era masterlist ꩜ .ᐟ

[skyrigel]

Simon swore he didn't want a relationship, but as soon as he met you — well there might be some changes in the plan.

He did want a relationship, fine, if it's with you, he's willing to give it a try but he's not really going for the trouble. No, thankyou.

Simon wouldn't really ask you if you haven't eaten yet or not, he's not your daddy, like that's a different thing, but he's not going to give you an earful for sleeping late and eating unhealthy.

He's going to be your boyfriend but... nonchalant boyfriend if it made any sense.

It never did.

Maybe changing his priorities was the first tick-tick for the bomb that came along his way because as soon as he found you, he was gobsmacked with a possessiveness that drived him insane.

He thought it would only bother him when you would be around because what sort of man he would be if he didn't melt at your sweetness.

But you lingered like a tattooed kiss, everything now connected with you, every thought started and ended with you.

He almost asked Soap to tie his hands so he could stop texting you random shit.

Like why should he bother with your meds and why it's making his heart burn if you haven't taken them.

Everything was jus' getting out of hand.

You were just so extreme, just out of your mind and he liked it, fuck he loved every bit of you. He just couldn't stop himself —

“You look like... you're bout’ to cry.” Soap annouced from his side, Simon shaked his head, then thinking different, nodded.

“She's having a bad day.” He said, “I am gonna kill this Nancy.”

“Who's..Nancy ?”

“You know wot ?” Simon grumbled instead, “I am gonna call her and tell her.. it's gonna be okay.”

“Right.” Soap bounced, covering his face because what has happened to his mate.

“Untie my wrist.” He growled.“Quick.” he added dangerously.

“Right.” Soap shrugged, already getting on his feet.

And if staying away from you was proving to be bad on his nonchalance then being near was almost tripping.

“You said you wouldn't come.” You gasped when he arrived, looking nervous and perhaps bit surprised himself.

“I...well...you look lovely.” He leaned to kiss your cheek, simple adorable gesture, “Thankyou Si !” He blushed at the nickname.

He really didn't know what took him until he realised that giving in to care about you was probably for the best. And really, it wasn't so bad, to think about you, to put efforts for you, to fucking nick the moon for you, because the moment you smiled at him so fondly, like he was capable to deserve that warmth from you, he actually knew what the trouble was all about and he was very much gladly taking a fall for your sake.

So it really didn't matter if he was putting on his warmth clothes because he was one second away from wrapping you in warmth the moment you very much sniffed.

It didn't matter how hot your body got sometimes with heat, he's there soaking cloth in cold ice water and cooling you down.

He's hearing that french lady talk and talk because he needs that recipe you so very love.

He sleeps with an arm under your head and heart full of things he would do for you and himself, to built a home.

Because he fucking cares, he swore for that, to make you the happiest with him.

He doesn't want to be nonchalant, he doesn't want to pretend like he doesn't care because he does.

Really.

Masterlist

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[strwberri-milk]

hey!! can you do lads guys with reader who compromise with any situation without getting upset or making demands because reader thinks they don't deserve their love? For example, if the guys cancel dates, forget an important date or can't make enough time for them.

English is not my first language so I hope you understand lol 😭

i think youd also like this!! and this!! it doesnt include caleb but ive dumped him here for that! - also a brief reminder to please request three characters unless you dgaf about the level of detail in a request. ive decided to give caleb more of the spotlight in this one after the general clump since their details are involved in the posts ive linked up there!!

He feels awful about how much time he can't spend with you. He can tell you're just trying to accommodate your schedule to his. He's always busy and he always will be busy but somehow, you always manage to be free whenever he's free. He sees how you bend over backwards to ensure he doesn't feel bad about constantly cancelling or missing out on dates.

Thankfully. you do see the effort he goes through to see you but you also feel bad when you see how hard he works to see you. You try to convince him that you don't matter that much and he's got so many more important things to worry about it, but he's not convinced that you realise just how important to him you are.

He's going to spend the rest of his life reminding you just how much he loves you and that he's devoting his entire life to you because honestly, that's all he wants to do. He'll ensure you become more confident in the relationship by consistently reassuring you that he loves you and you're allowed to ask things of him - don't ever assume you aren't.

Caleb honestly would never miss out on a date with you or any sort of event. He's got a dedicated calendar for just you and he does absolutely everything he can that's within his power to make it to you. Even if he can't be there physically he sends a package, or does a grand gesture to make up for it.

If he misses something, it's because something literally physically dragged him away from you. Most likely, what happened was that if he refused to show up for a job your life would be at risk so he has to go, unable to even find the time to shoot you a message because of how last minute it is.

When he comes home to see you wrapped up in the sheets, holding yourself tightly in a bid to console your broken heart without worrying him his heart breaks. He wastes no time bundling you up in his arms and whispering sweet nothings into your ear, even if you can't hear it. He picks you up and takes you out to the main living room, gently kicking away at the bundles of gifts he sent to you in his stead as he brings you to sit on his lap on the couch, where he can wait for you to wake up after being removed from bed.

When you do wake up his lips are immediately on yours, mumbling words of love and adoration with such an intensity you wonder if he's even breathing. He doesn't need to - not when he's got you in his arms.

If you ever try to break up with him he just denies it outright. He won't let you leave him. He loves you and he has for the entirety of his life - is that not enough for you? He's spent years proving it to himself, earning the right to love you. He'd manage to get the reason for it out of you quickly, eyes narrowing as he crowds you against the wall of his penthouse.

He'd tell you everything - remind you just how much he loves you. If you try to tell him you don't deserve it and he should be with someone else he's furious, of course. Nobody else deserves you and he's done everything he can to make himself worthy of loving you. He'll just reiterate it over and over again, speaking softly as he convinces you to let him show you what it means to be loved. You won't be breaking up with him and he won't be hearing anything of it ever again.