#he sleeps in my bed almost every night and keeps me company. he loves this one specific box he's in.

[hazmaticalblue]

i had a sudden emotional bout realizing how mortal my beloveds are, he's my baby no matter how often he gets all nibbly

my little baby...

[eufezco]

NEED TO LET LOGAN 2017 SLEEP WITH HIS 100LB HEAD ON MY TITTIES AND STROKE HIS STUPID BEARD AND WASH HIS HAIR AFTER A LONG ROUGH DAY AUGHHH

it was getting late and you were still waiting for logan to get home from work. caliban had been keeping you company, chatting with you, and serving you a cup of hot milk but eventually, the mutant went to bed and it was just you.

logan got home that night with his white shirt soaked in blood. you stood up terrified and spilling your milk once you saw him with his head down and dragging his feet inside the house. and now you were in the bathroom, hugging him from behind and with your head resting against his back as he grunted and pushed the bullets out of his chest. he held his body with both hands on the sink, slightly leaning forward.

the muscles in his body tensed every time he pushed and you closed your eyes hard. it hurt you to see how he suffered, how his body no longer helped him. you mumbled sweet things against the skin of his back. well done, baby, good job every time he managed to push another bullet out of his body, i love you, you almost got it while he panted and gathered the strength to push again.

when logan pushed out the last bullet, you stayed in that position for a few minutes, you hugging him from behind and him feeling completely exhausted.

—let me see —. you gently grabbed his shoulders and turned him around. —shit, logan. what happened? —. the bullet wounds were deep, you wouldn't know how long it would take for his body to heal or if it would even heal at all. he didn't answer your question, logan just pressed his forehead against yours. —you're okay, baby, you're home now. —you cupped one of his cheeks. then, you grabbed his shaky hands and kissed his knuckles.

you took out a needle and thread from the first aid kit. you would rather do it yourself than have logan spend all night writhing in pain while waiting for his body to do the job. he hissed every time the needle went through his skin and you apologized. you did not ask any more questions about the shot wounds, you knew he would tell you in the morning when he had had some rest.

you undid his belt and unbuttoned his pants. you pulled down his underwear and then helped him to get into the bathtub. logan hissed again when the water hit his freshly stitched wounds but also felt how all the muscles in his body relaxed.

you washed his body, being very careful every time you got close to one of his wounds. his chest was covered in blood which made you nervously swallow before washing it with the soap. that much blood... if it wasn't for his mutation he'd be dead now, he would not even have had time to come back home to you. your heart felt heavy inside your chest just at the thought of it. then, you asked him to sit on the floor of the bathtub and you knelt to wash his hair. your hands massaged his scalp and he closed his eyes, enjoying your touch.

he got out of the shower and you threw the towel over his shoulders. —wait here, i'll bring you clean clothes.

after helping him to get dressed, you went to your room. logan laid down on the bed, grunting as his body touched the mattress from how much everything hurt. you laid next to him and lifted one of your arms so he could rest his head on your chest. your fingers played with his gray hair. he closed his eyes and let all the air out of his lungs

—'m sorry, should've asked before, how was your day? —he said with raspy voice.

you hummed, playing it down. he came home shot in the chest and he was still apologizing for not having cared about you sooner. —it was okay. i came from work and spent some time with charles. he keeps saying that he feels a new mutant, a young one.

logan shook his head. —that old man has lost his mind.

—but what if he's right? would that be so strange?

—and now he has made you lose your mind too.

you giggled.

he suddenly lifted his head from your chest. your hands still played with his hair as you looked back into his eyes. —did you eat? —he asked, worried.

you nodded, showing him a little smile as you caressed the side of his face. —caliban made dinner, he left you some in the fridge. —logan shook his head, he was too tired to eat anything. —he waited with me for a bit for you to come but he ended up going to bed.

he slowly nodded. your hands now caressed the beard that covered his cheeks. he didn't know how you could keep the sparkle in your eyes when you looked at him. this is not the life he had promised you, this was not the life he wanted for you. but you still waited for him at night so you could spend some time together, you kept kissing him the same way, touching him the same way. stitching his wounds even though you didn't have to, calling him during his breaks to make sure he had eaten what you prepared for him.

you caressed his cheek tenderly and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. he rested his head on your chest again.

—i don't know what i would do without you.

[pseudowho]

Post-ShibuyaAU! Grey Nanami Kento Headcanons

(help me find the Nanami artist in the banner, for crediting and thanks/permission!)

As an accompaniment to my story, Grey (link here); an AU where Nanami survives Shibuya exploration because I'm never going to be over his loss.

Warnings: Severe injury (burns, eye loss), PTSD, alcohol use, depression, light smut, angst, AU headcanons

Part 2 of Greynami Headcanons link here

Christmas Greynami Headcanons, link here

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Before he meets you:

AU!Nanami Kento who meanders, severely burned, skin still on fire with agony, with blurred vision to another atrium, thronging with transfigured humans.

AU!Nanami Kento who fights until the end, embracing his death, until Yuuji arrives at the eleventh hour.

AU!Nanami Kento who, despite being healed by Shoko, faces a grisly recovery, forever physically and psychologically scarred by the events of Shibuya.

AU!Nanami Kento who drinks more heavily than ever, trying to scare away the nightmares; waking up in cold sweats, burning alive and screaming.

AU!Nanami Kento who turns viciously on the hierarchy of Jujutsu High, blaming them for sending their staff and students to Shibuya like lambs to the slaughter.

AU!Nanami Kento who hands his notice in shortly after Shibuya; bitterly recognising the monsters of the world in the various forms, wishing to hunt freely without being at the beck and call of Jujutsu High.

AU!Nanami Kento, who embraces the vigilante life, still saving privately earned money for his early retirement.

AU!Nanami Kento with bruises on his thighs, cuts on his hands, because his depth perception fails him in day-to-day activities now .

AU!Nanami Kento who took up the cold-baths-in-your-clothes idea from Higuruma Hiromi, because his burns still prickle so tenderly even after being healed.

AU!Nanami Kento who looks in the mirror once a day and once only, disgusted by what he sees.

AU!Nanami Kento who is still on speed-dial for every student and every assistant at Jujutsu High, who begrudge him nothing, and still love him dearly.

AU!Nanami Kento who doesn't even need to use his Cursed energy to hunt down rapists, murderers and abusers.

AU!Nanami Kento who is informed by Ijichi of the goings-on in the school; where students are sent and when, if anyone is being sent to re-recruit him...which is how he learns you are being sent for him.

AU!Nanami Kento who throws himself into work, isolating himself from the world, bitter and jaded and so desperately lonely.

After he meets you:

AU!Nanami Kento who seduces you when you hunt him down, sensing a kindred spirit, and someone to keep him company even if just for one night.

AU!Nanami Kento who is surprised to wake to see you still there, soft, naked, and pressed against him.

AU!Nanami Kento who almost cries when you press soft kisses over his eye patch, not disgusted, not afraid.

AU!Nanami Kento who treats you like a queen, throwing his whole heart and soul into romancing you, never hesitating in his choice.

AU!Nanami Kento who eventually stops covering himself up at home, exiting the bathroom in just a towel, no eye patch, his good eye smiling softly at you, curled in his shirt on his sofa.

AU!Nanami Kento who re-embraces the music from his teenage years, insisting you listen to MCR, Tool, and Fall out Boy while you cook together, singing along badly, flour everywhere.

AU!Nanami Kento who, the first time he had a vicious nightmare with you in his bed, was ashamed and took himself alone out of the house for a walk in the dead of night.

AU!Nanami Kento who doesn't make it to the door alone the second time; your hand winds in his and you wrap a scarf gently around him, walking arm in arm through the orange glow of the streetlights until he feels calm enough to attempt sleep again.

AU!Nanami Kento who knew he loved you before; but now loves you obsessively, sweetly, deeply.

AU!Nanami Kento who gasps to life in the morning, feeling your warm mouth travel down his scarred abdomen below the covers, groaning in ecstasy as you take him into your mouth, his fingers tangling in your hair, relearning how to feel joy and pleasure.

AU!Nanami Kento who no longer hides his face in your neck while he rolls his hips gently against yours, drinking in your facial expressions and soft sighs as he takes you to the edge again and again.

AU!Nanami Kento who doesn't let you go to any of your kills alone; he comes with you, protecting you at every turn, but refuses to split your payment with him.

AU!Nanami Kento who doesn't know you've perfected a minor reverse-cursed healing technique, and you use it to heal the eye patch sores on his face while he sleeps.

AU!Nanami Kento who introduces you to Yuuji; Yuuji smiles so widely with pure honest joy, and Kento feels his heart might burst with pride.

AU!Nanami Kento who only semi-ironically considers Nobara a member of the One-Eyed Club, like him. Nobara loves it. She has badges made. Kento has one under his lapel at all points.

AU!Nanami Kento who learns that you always carry aloe-vera gel and a spare eye patch when you go out together, and his heart clenches with appreciation for you.

AU!Nanami Kento who, in return, starts carrying around pads and hair ties for you, but won't carry an umbrella; he knows you always bring one, and you'll be forced to share the same umbrella.

AU!Nanami Kento who loves when you buy clothes for him, choosing good materials and long sleeves which won't irritate his scars.

AU!Nanami Kento who is so proud to walk out of the coffee shop with two coffees and pastries now, instead of the lonely one.

AU!Nanami Kento who falls asleep against you when you wash his hair and tight scars in the bath, and definitely falls asleep with his head in your lap while you massage aloe into his burns.

AU!Nanami Kento who sees kids staring at his eye patch; he kneels down and quietly tells them that he's a pirate, but the good kind.

AU!Nanami Kento who suffers dreadful depression and flashbacks as Halloween approaches the first year you're together; by the second year, he agrees to dress up as the Phantom of the Opera and Christine together.

AU!Nanami Kento who has dinner with Ijichi, Ino, Higuruma and Kusakabe often.

AU!Nanami Kento, who knows Ijichi will always make a Jujutsu High car available for him, even though he's no longer employed by them. Ijichi, who always has Nanami Kento's back, and would fight anyone to the death for him.

AU!Nanami Kento who no longer sees himself as defined by his trauma, but instead as defined by the love you give him, and he gives you in return.

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Sigh. I adore Greynami.

Part 2 of Greynami Headcanons link here

@silkspunweb My smutty muse, and partner in crime, thank you ❤️

[imaginaryf1shots]

Winner | Lewis Hamilton

WC: 2.3K

Dad!Lewis x Wife!Reader

Summery: It’s lewis’s win after 945 days of not winning, and it’s also your daughter’s first race.

Warning: None

Masterlist

Lewis Masterlist

The home you share with Lewis in England is a sanctuary for the two of you. it's a house filled with warmth and comfort. It's a place filled with laughter and good memories.

Deciding to make this house your main one almost 4 years ago was an easy decision for the both of you. Lewis was away racing most of the year, and since you've gotten pregnant, this was the best option, his family is there, and they've been helping you whenever Lewis is away. During his brakes, you all go back to Monaco, the home you shared with Lewis when you were dating to when you got married and until your fourth month of pregnancy. For him, the move was a return to the familiar embrace of family and the land that had shaped him. Lewis’s family had welcomed you with open arms, their support a constant source of strength.

Their love for your daughter knew no bounds. She was the light of everyone’s lives. Her bright eyes and infectious giggle, a beacon of joy.

One thing is that Lola hasn't seen her dad race in real life. The sound of the engines, the rush of the crowd, those were experiences she only saw on the TV or stories told by the adults around her.

You and Lewis talked about bringing her to a race multiple times, but you always felt like she was too young, that it would be too much for her. But seeing other drivers bring their children made Lewis want to bring her more. And as the British Grand Prix approached, it felt like it was finally time, Lewis was buzzing, Mercedes won last week. Yes, it was because Max and Lando crashed, but they still won. And the feeling he had coming into the week was great. He loves Silverstone, and he's won 8 times before. And the thought of having you and Lola there with the rest of his family was filling him up with anticipation.

That's why when Lola got a bit sick and was under the weather, he felt deflated. Was it a bad omen, will this week go wrong and not like he expected. His thoughts ran wild. Throughout media day and Friday, you've been sending him pictures of the two of you watching him. His mum was with you, but she will be going on race day. Unbeknownst to Lewis, Lola was better, so much better, but you were waiting to see if she'll stay okay or maybe get sick again. The colour returned to her cheeks, and she became active once again.

On quali day, it was bright and early, when you felt Lewis get out of bed, but took you a few minutes to will yourself to get out of bed and follow him. You walked in the direction of your daughter's room. The door was open, and the night light was still on, you watched from the door way as Lewis stood by her bed, he's been coming home late at night when Lola was already in bed.

You walked in and wrapped your arms around him, hugging him from the back, feeling his skin under your arms. Lewis leaned slightly into you. You peppered his shoulder with kisses.

“I can't wait for the summer break, I feel like I haven't been spending enough time with her.” Lewis whispers, you hum and look at her from over his shoulder.

“Soon she'll be able to travel with you to races.” You whisper back. “She's super excited about that.”

“I want to start winning again, I want her to be proud of me.” Lewis told you he sounded so vournable in that moment.

“She's already so proud of you, winning or not.” You reasure him. “She goes around saying my daddy is a champion, he won 7 times, and Nicolas taught her to say that you're the goat.”

“Did he?” Lewis smiled.

“Yeah, don't think she knows what it really means, but it has her giggling every time.” You kiss his neck and pull him slightly. You leave her sleeping.

You watch him get ready from the bed, keeping him company, it pains you not being able to be there for him on his home race weekend.

“I can hear you thinking.” Lewis says, and you smile.

“I can't help it, I want to be there for you today and tomorrow.” You pout, and Lewis smiles he walks to the side of the bed you're sitting on before he leans over and presses a few kisses to your lips.

“We can't help it, Lola comes first.” Lewis says and finishes getting ready.

“I know.”

Watching quali with Lola had so many highs and lows for you. For a second, you thought Lewis would qualify first. But alas, it was 1-2 for Mercedes.

Lewis left the track at 10 that day and was home after both you and Lola fell asleep. You slept on the sofa waiting for him. Lewis smiles seeing you on the sofa, the TV on low volume. He kisses your forehead and picks you up. You stir up and wrap your arms around him.

“I'm so proud of you, Lewis.” You mumble, and he kisses your foreheads once more. He puts you in bed before he joins you, and you gravitate towards him, you cuddle.

Kissing Lewis goodbye the next day, you start getting ready, Carmen, his mum helps Lola get ready while you get ready. You take Lola's bag filled with snacks, toys, and everything she might need or want for the day, also her medicine in case she needs it.

“Look at you so cute.” You tell Lola, seeing her in a mini race suit that is identical to Lewis’, complete with race shoes as well, and a Mercedes cap to boot.

“He'll be so happy.” Carmen tells you, and you agree. She gives you a hug, and the three of you leave. You already agreed with his team to sneak you in and not tell him.

Avoiding fans was the hardest thing, but somehow, you managed to do it. Lewis was in a meeting most of the day. This race was crucial, and a lot of planning went into it.

There was a camera following you and Lola through the Mercedes motorhome, documenting your daughter's first race. She looked around in wander.

“Look who we have here.” Toto said, smiling, seeing your daughter walking in front of you. She smiles up at the tall man, her neck bending to see his face. Toto picks her up.

“Hi, Toto Daddy doesn't know I'm here.” She says and shush him with her finger to her lips.

“Don't worry, I won't tell him.” Toto whispers and smiles. She talks with Toto for a bit before he has to go.

The plan was for one of the team to get a camera into the room Lewis was in, and somehow they did. Lola was told to go knock on the door and walk in.

She looked at you as she walked to the room. You gave her a nod and an encouraging smile. Her small hand knocks on the door, barely making a noise.

Lewis looks up at the door, he thought for a second that he heard a knock or something, it was so light, before the door is pushed open, and he looks down.

“Oh my god.” He whispers. Before he gets up from his chair and, in a few big steps, scoops her up in her arms. “Baby, what are you doing here?”

“It's a surprise, Daddy.” Lola giggles, happy that she managed to surprise her dad.

“She's been feeling much better.” You tell him from the doorway, behind the man filming the father daughter due. Seeing them together here in Mercedes brought tears to your eyes, but you managed not to let them slip. Lewis holds his hand out to you, and you slip in the room and into your husband's arms. He hugs the two of you close, and you enjoy the moment not caring about the people around you.

Lewis is fussy you realised, he's making sure that you're both comfortable in the garage, that Lola's headphones were the right size and that someone will be next to you during the race incase you needed help with anything.

And so for the next hour, the garage became your little haven. Lewis was making sure your daughter was comfortable, adjusting her headphones, and pointing out various parts of the car to her with the patient enthusiasm of a father eager to share his world. She sat perched on his lap, wide-eyed and fascinated by everything around her, her tiny fingers tracing the lines of his racing suit as if trying to memorise every detail. She was so happy when he sat in the car and placed her on his lap, steering wheel and everything.

As the time for the race drew nearer, the atmosphere in the garage grew increasingly tense. Mechanics made their final checks, the car gleamed under the bright lights, and the air was thick with anticipation. Lewis knelt down beside your daughter, his face serious now as he explained that he had to go and get ready. She listened intently, nodding solemnly, and then wrapped her arms around his neck in a tight hug.

“Go win, Daddy,” she said, her voice full of quiet determination.

With one last kiss for each of you, Lewis stood up, took a deep breath, and headed towards his car. You watched him go, your heart swelling with pride and love.

As the engines roared to life and the cars began to line up on the grid, you held your daughter close, her eyes fixed on the track, her face alight with the same eager anticipation that filled the air. Today is a day you would cherish forever, no matter what the outcome of the race might be.

The start of the race looked good, with Lewis and George keeping the rest of the grid behind them. You grew anxious when the Mclarens over took them after Lewis was leading.

Lap 33 George had to retire his car, and it left you worried for Lewis’ car. Mclaren was leading, but the strategy from Mercedes and Lewis’ experience played a good part for him to take the lead and stay ahead of Lando. Lola sat wide-eyed and mesmerised by the spectacle unfolding before her. Lewis’s car was a blur as it streaked past the garage. You could see the intensity in his movements from the onboard, every turn, and manoeuvre executed with the precision and grace of a seasoned champion. A mix of nerves and excitement coursing through your veins. Your daughter clapped her hands in delight every time she spotted her father’s car, her infectious excitement breaking your own tension and bringing a smile to your face.

”There he is, Mummy! Look! Daddy’s winning!” She exclaimed, her voice enthusiastic, filled with pure love as she watched her daddy do what he he loved and was passionate about.

Max came out of nowhere and overtook Lando easily. Your heart dropped as the last 5 laps went on, Max is catching Lewis, your heart beating hard in your chest. The anticipation was killing you. Then, as the race entered its final lap, a hush fell over the garage, the anticipation reaching a fever pitch. Lewis was leading, and Max was too far to try and overtake.

Lola leaned forward, her eyes wide with awe as she watched the drama unfold. “Is Daddy going to win, Mummy?” she asked, her voice filled with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty.

You squeezed her hand, your own emotions a blend of hope and fear. “He will.” You replied, your voice catching in your throat as you watched the final lap play out before you.

The entire grange was on its feet, a chorus of cheers and applause erupting around you as he passed the chequered flag. You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes, your heart swelling with pride and joy as you watched him cross the finish line, victorious and triumphant.

The garage exploded into a frenzy of celebration, the noise and excitement almost overwhelming in its intensity.

“Daddy won! Daddy won!” she squealed, her face alight with pure, unadulterated joy.

With Carmen, you made your way to parc ferme, where Lewis parked, Lola in your arms. Your husband has already gotten out of the car and hugged his team and father. Carmen managed to get to him before the two of you, and he fell in her shoulder. He’s crying. Hearing him on the team radio crying made you fight your own tears. You walked around the barrier with Lola still in your arms, Lando was being interviewed by Jensen, and that gave you the time to reach Lewis.

He let go of his mother, and his eyes fell on you and Lola in your arms. Meeting his eyes, the tears you tried to keep at bay fell freely. The moment you reached him, he enveloped you both in a fierce, tearful embrace. You hid your face in his neck as you clutched his race suit around his back, Lola wrapped her arms around his neck.

“We did it, we did it.” He whispered in your ear, his voice cracking as he held you both close.

”Daddy don’t cry.” Lola said patting his back, trying to comfort him like he always comforts her, she leaned back and kissed his cheek, Lewis pulls back and kisses her cheek, before he turns to you and presses a kiss to your lips.

”I love you so much.” You whisper against his lips, a teary smile on your face.

”I love you too.” Lewis tells you the emotions between you thick and overwhelming.

”I love you, Daddy.” Lola said, and Lewis turned to take her in his arms, kissing all over her face.

”I love you too, sweetheart.”

In that moment, amidst the roar of the crowd and the flash of the cameras, nothing else mattered. You were together, and Lewis has proved to everyone that said he’s washed and that it’s over for him wrong. And he did it all on his daughter’s first race. His greatest accomplishment and his lucky charm.

Maintaglist

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03

[222col]

"i'll sign an autograph later, but right now, you're in my seat." I ALMOST MOANED. The entire fic was the hottest thing i have ever read in my entire life. I know this is probably a bad idea but can you make a part 2 of Womanizer Art where he takes her out and end the night with them sleeping together just for him to stop texting her again but when he asks her to be in a committed relationship she rejects him and tells him to stop texting her. After the rejection Art tries to go back to his old ways sleeping with other girls but they don't feel like y/n or just gets depressed and only focuses on his career but he realizes that he's falling more and more for y/n no matter how hard he tried distracting himself while y/n is living her life as if nothing happened. So Art starts stalking her, going to places she goes and sabotaging her relationships with other men and he keeps texting her and sending her gifts and flowers to her house literally doing the kind of things he's has never done to another woman before until she gives in and agrees to be his girlfriend 😩 pretty please PLEASE PLEAAAAAASE 🧎‍♀️

!!!!!! thank u thank u thank u xxx yes omg love that idea but this will never be as good as @lovetrt's stalker!art but i will try my hardest 🧎🏻‍♀️ part two of this <3 | cw: slight forcefulness

"get out my fucking house." art orders the blonde in his bed when she attempts to hold him. "but-" he cuts her off with just a look. scrambling for her belongings and running out of his room. he slips his boxers back on and reaches for his phone on the nightstand. he sends yet another text to you.

can you stop being a brat and just text me back?

scrolling through the endless messages he's sent you before locking his phone and attempting to sleep once he hears the front door close.

it's been a month since your date with art. he took you to dinner and then of course back to his, where he fucked you silly on his bed again. you stayed the night, had breakfast with him before returning home. you enjoyed the date, and art's company, but as you told him, relationships weren't your thing. art isn't used to being told no, especially from girls, so when you stopped replying to his texts and wouldn't answer calls, he had to take matters into his own hands.

he's been fucking anything that moves and spending all his other free time on the tennis courts. agreeing to more brand campaigns, just in the hope that you'll see him on an ad somewhere and coming running back to his bed. art wakes up the next morning, checking his phone first thing, as he always does now, praying you'll have text him back.

not even if i actually let you fuck me with a racket?

art got in touch with patrick's buddy's now ex-girlfriend, begging for your address, telling her some bullshit like you left your watch at his and he wanted to mail it to you. she doesn't buy it, but she likes art, and does as he asks. he's been sending you flowers and presents every few days, but he knows it's time to take the next step. throwing on shorts, a t-shirt and his baseball cap, he drives to your apartment. there's a coffee shop opposite, ordering a drink and sitting outside, waiting for just a glimpse of you. he's sat there for a while, until the door to your building opens, and he sees you. an oversized t-shirt hides your underwear you lean over and kiss the man you're ushering out the door. art grits his teeth, his mind full of thoughts of fucking you on the stoop of your building.

the guy leaves, looking too smug for art's liking. he can't help himself. running over and stopping him in his tracks. "how do you know that girl?" he asks. "woah, hello? what's it to you, buddy?" the guy questions art. "just fucking tell me." art pushes, closing the distance between them, intimidating him. "she's just some girl i fuck." stepping back away from art. "how often?" art needs to know, he needs to be told you haven't slept with this random gym bro more than you have him. "alright, twenty questions, like twice a week." art's angry, tempted to knock this guy out, except that yeah, art may be taller, but he doesn't think he's as strong. "for how long?" art keeps questioning. "christ man, look i'm sorry if she's your girlfriend or something, i met her like two months ago, we've been hooking up since then." art's eyes narrow, looking down at him. "stay the fuck away from her." he seriously doesn't know what's come over him, normally he can't stand to look at a girl after he's come all over her, but now, here he is, squaring up to a stranger that fucked you.

art comes to the coffee shop opposite your apartment most mornings, warning of any of the guys that you walk to the door. spamming your phone with more and more texts, he can't take it anymore. arriving at the coffee shop again, waiting for you to kick the guy out of your bed. he catches the door to your building as someone leaves, no more than ten minutes after you showed the latest guy out of your apartment. he runs up to your door, turning the handle, silly little girl not locking her door, he thinks as he enters your apartment. you've driven him crazy, he could get anyone else he wanted, but he's here, breaking into your home because the five minutes he sees you every morning aren't enough anymore. he needs to feel you, breath you in, taste you.

there you are, stood in your kitchen, making coffee in nothing more than a bra and panties. he's already hard, coming up behind you, covering your mouth with his hand, immediately kissing your neck. you try to scream, eyes wide as you extend your neck, trying to get a glimpse of your perpetrator. art fucking donaldson. you push your body off of him. "you're a fucking psychopath!" you shout, trying to steady your breath. his hand reaches between your legs. "why are you so wet then?" he's right, you're soaked. you hate how your body is secretly loving what he's doing. he's so fucking desperate for you, you've never seen anything like it. you slap him across the face, he turns back to you, his eyes are dark and he's smirking. he reaches over and grabs you by the throat, "stop acting like you don't want to fuck me right now." a moan escapes your lips, satisfaction spreading over his face.

"tell me, tell me you don't want me to fuck you and i'll leave." pulling you closer by the grip around your neck. you can barely breathe, forcing your words out. "fuck me, please," it takes seconds for him to spin you round and bend you over the counter. pulling your panties down your legs. "good girl, you even said please." he pushes his shorts down his legs, spanking your ass before pushing himself into you. your knuckles turn white, gripping the side of the counter so hard, his hands on your hips, bruising your skin as he thrusts in and out of you. "such a dirty little slut aren't you, baby," he bites your earlobe, all you can do is nod your head as your eyes roll back. he spanks your ass again, gripping and biting and sucking every bit of your skin he can.

"you missed this dick, didn't you princess?" you're not lying when you tell him yes, he's the best sex you've ever had. he lifts one of your legs on to the counter, pushing himself in deeper. it's mere moments before you're a mess before him, screaming his name as you orgasm. he kisses your back as you do, not slowing down until he pushes himself over the line, pulling out of you as his come drips down your legs. you both stay still for a few seconds, collecting your breath before art spins you round to face him. "will you please, please, be my girlfriend, fuck me," he's kissing all over your face. "art, you've only taken me on one date, and i told you, i don't do relationships." he only stops kissing you to reply. "i don't fucking care," he wraps his arms around your naked body. you hate commitment, it petrifies you, but something, somewhere in you is screaming at you to say yes. "if i say yes, will you stop sitting at that damn coffee shop every morning?" you're teasing him, and for the first time, you see art shy. "i'm sorry, i don't know what's happening to me, i'm not usually this fucking obsessive, you've done something to me." his head is buried in the nape of your neck. "fine, yes, i will be your girlfriend." his head shoots up, kissing you so intensely. "fucking finally."

[yuitoru]

๑ ⋆˙⟡ ⠀ 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 ⠀ ๑ ⋆˙⟡

๑ feat : lucifer morningstar , alastor

๑ cw : angst , happy ending for reader , swearing

๑ part one

today marked the one year anniversary of your separation from the king of hell, and you were happier than the previous annum. after having left the manor with nothing but the few bags of luggage to your name, you stumbled upon an establishment that had been uttered by the demons around you. the 'hazbin hotel' - whilst the name was mostly unfamiliar, you were desperate for the free accommodation, so you used whatever of the funds lucifer had left you with to make your way across the pentagram towards the hotel.

your arrival to the establishment was well-welcomed by the owner of the hotel, and the daughter of your former lover, charlie. her bubbly and warm persona was a stark contrast to the treatment you received from her father - you experienced more care and affection from the girl than you ever had from lucifer himself. the rest of the staff and guests welcomed you with warm arms, quickly making you the newest member of their supposed chosen family.

now, a year into your stay at the hazbin hotel, and you could honestly say that this was the happiest you had been in your entire life - alive, and dead. you had friends that cared about you, a fun and entertaining daily life, and your heart had begun to beat for another. despite the way he had treated you in the past, you couldnt help but feel guilty for falling for someone new. it was apparent that, no matter how hard you tried to fight it, you could never completely forget about the first man you truly fell in love with.

you had confided to charlie late one night during the first few months of your stay, when insecurity and anxiety had been plaguing your mind for days on end. you ended up sobbing to her as you spilled the details of your 'relationship' with lucifer, and the horrified expression on charlie's face only made you cry more. she held you in her arms for the remainder of your tears, until you eventually fell asleep from exhaustion. upon waking tucked into your bed the following morning, a neatly folded note laid on your bedside table, reading in neat, loopy handwriting,

'i hope youre feeling after last night. im glad that you felt comfortable enough to talk to me about that :) we saved you breakfast!' - charlie ♡

a warm smile lit up your face as you read the note, placing it back down on the bedside table before sliding out of bed and beginning your morning routine. twenty minutes later, you headed downstairs and were met with the warming scent of breakfast. in the kitchen, alastor stood by the counter, two cups of steaming hot coffee in his hands. after having noticed you, his ears shot up slightly and his smile widened almost unnoticeably. he placed a mug of coffee down by a plate of warm food, before speaking up to you.

"good morning, my dear! hope you slept well - sleep is extremely important, you know! the others are out right now, but i thought that you would appreciate some company this morning..."

you could only let out an airy laugh as you sat down, taking the neatly placed utensils into your hands and beginning your meal. the whole time, alastor ensured to keep a lively conversation running, cracking an occasional joke every so often - just so he could witness your gorgeous smile. he would never admit to it, but alastor would do anything to keep that lovely look on your face. after finishing with your breakfast, you helped alastor with the dishes before heading over to the parlour and sprawling your body over a sofa. alastor sat himself down on a nearby armchair and turned on the radio on the coffee table, and the two of you enjoyed the other's company whilst listening to soft jazz in the background.

during your stay at the hazbin hotel, your initial civil friendship with alastor began to slowly develop into something more - you two spent more and more time together, to the point where the others would get concerned if one of you was without the other. there was no suitable label to what the two of you were, but one night changed it all, redefining your entire relationship.

you were sat by the bar, maintaining a conversation with husk as you sipped on your drink. it had been a peaceful day, and the clocks were edging towards eight in the evening - the radio was on again, and everyone else was sat talking in the parlour. as you stretched your back out, you could practically sense eyes lingering on your figure, and as you turned around to see who it was, your eyes locked onto alastor's, who just sent you a grin. standing up from his chair, he made his way towards you and sat in the vacant bar stool next to you. husk just glanced at him before beginning to make his drink that he knew by heart from being around the radio demon for far too long, in husk's opinion. you sent alastor a small smile, mumbling out softly,

"hi, al, everything okay?," you asked him, swirling your drink around, watching the liquid slide down the side of the glass. alastor chuckled quietly - that being his response to your question. you could tell he was thinking about something, and when husk handed him his drink, he took a deep sip of the strong whiskey before sighing.

"im fine, sweetheart. ive just been thinking a lot, thats all," that was the only explanation he gave, clearly not wanting to say more. his ears were slightly drooped, and his body language was much more slumped and relaxed than his usual rigid and uptight stance. it was obvious that something big was on his mind, something that he needed to talk about but was reluctant to do so. with a small sigh, you gently reach your hand out and hold his cheek, turning his head to face you. it was common knowledge that alastor mostly resented physical contact, but he didnt seem to mind it as much when it was done by you. his eyes slightly widened and his smile seemed a little uncertain, as his breath hitched.

it might have been the already building alcohol in his system, but in that moment, he swore you looked like an angel, by some cruel twisted fate. you looked heavenly in his eyes, something too pure for the depths of hell to corrupt. without even thinking straight, his lips were pressed against your cheek, before pulling away just as fast as it had happened. you could only stare at him in shock as your hand shot up to clutch the area alastor had kissed. by this point, husk had already moved over to the parlour, not wanting to witness the grossly romantic scene in front of him, and avoiding the possibility of alastor attempting to kill him for being too close to him and you.

"alastor.." was all you could say, your heart and brain alike going into overdrive. it had been way too long since you had been kissed so tenderly, or even kissed at all - lucifer never initiated a kiss during your relationship. you stared at the radio demon in shock, before an idea of your own crossed your mind. leaning your face closer to his, you whispered out, "kiss me properly," before pressing your lips against his. the kiss didnt last that long, but it was enough - enough for the two of you to accept all your suppressed feelings for the other, and for alastor to formerly ask you to be his lover.

now, you were walking down the stairs of the hotel, dressed in an oversized zip-up hoodie that covered up to your mid thigh, and warm baggy shorts. you had slept in after a tiring evening, and were making your way down to have coffee with everyone else, as everyone usually did in the mornings. what you werent expecting, however, was to see the whole hotel decorated with an assortment of decorations, but more surprisingly, your former lover standing in the entryway of the hotel. you froze from where you stood on the landing tread of the stairs, not wanting to believe what you were seeing. your heart began racing and your body started to tremble as you watched lucifer turn around and lock eyes with you - him sharing your shocked expression. you averted your gaze to charlie, who could only give you an apologetic look, before you quickly turned around and darted back up the stairs towards your room.

lucifer just watched you scramble away with a conflicted look in his eyes, his grip on his cane tightening significantly. he still remembered the look on your face when you left the manor a year ago, and the confusingly painful emptiness in his heart that followed after your absence. he turned to look at his daughter, a hint of betrayal lingering in his gaze.

"you never mentioned that she was here," he mumbled out, watching as charlie could only sigh and look down at her dad. before she even responded, alastor turned to walk towards the stairs, calling out in an obnoxious tone, "im going to go check on my lover, if thats alright. feel free to continue this social setting without me," was all he said, as he began climbing up the stairs. his usual grin only widened as he felt lucifer's stare on his back, knowing that he had successfully pissed off the king of hell.

you were curled up underneath your duvet, sobbing quietly. you had thought that you were completely over lucifer, but deep down, your heart would always unconsciously yearn for him. the soft knock on your door didnt even register in your mind, nor did the creaking of the door hinges. the dipping of the mattress was what finally snapped you out of your self-pitying trance. a gentle hand reached down to lift the duvet off of your body, and it traced the soft features of your face.

"dont cry over him, my dear. im here, am i not?" the sound of alastor's voice caused you to slowly sit up from your previously curled position on your bed. looking up at him with teary eyes, you couldnt help your sniffling as you tried to stop yourself from crying even more . alastor just silently opened his arms for you, which you gladly accepted and crawled into his comforting embrace.

meanwhile, lucifer was pacing the lobby downstairs, his grip on his cane so strong it threatened to break the metal staff. his mind was racing; his heart pounding rapidly in his chest. of course he knew that you would move on after the break up, but with the radio demon? moreover, he certainly wasnt expecting to see you again, especially at his daughter's hotel out of all places. hundreds of thoughts swarmed lucifer's head, buzzing all around like a beehive. he knew that this had all first started because of him - he was the one to selfishly lead you on and break your heart, and now he had to pay the price of his actions. despite his overwhelming and eternal love for his first wife, you had filled the void in his heart without him ever truly realising it. or maybe he did realise, and chose to run away instead of coming to terms with his feelings. but now, it was all too late. you had moved on, and were happier with someone else.

all he could do was watch silently as you were nuzzled up on alastor's lap later that evening, your face tucked into the radio demon's neck. he was forced to come to terms with how much he had messed up, and lost against love for the second time in his life.

© yuitoru™ — dont copy, plagiarise, repost, modify and/or translate my works

[gay-dorito-dust]

hobie brown (spider-punk!!) is giving me severe brain rot, i love him sm 😭

if you ever decide to write for him, could you do some relationship hcs??

ty ^^

Not sure wether this is what you wanted but I hope it was worth it.

Music from the heart:

One of the most obvious ones is that Hobie would have a plethora of songs about you, it’s fucking adorable and so sweet, and so he would play them for you within the comfort of your room because where else would you rather be serenaded?

If anything it makes the moment more special and memorable for the both of you as something you can look back on with fondness.

Though you probably try teasing him one day by asking how many more songs of you he had in the works and Hobie would either say ‘too many to count.’ Or ‘a whole albums worth.’ He’s not going to hide the fact that he’s got notebook after notebook filled with song lyrics dedicated to you.

Pda though not quite:

Hobie isn’t the type to heavily involve himself in PDA but isn’t against the likes of:

holding hands.

his hand being placed on the small of your back when guiding you somewhere else.

the classic arm over the shoulder.

Thigh holding

His/ your head resting on each others shoulders and or laps.

Guitar pick:

This one came to my head out of the blue but I’m gonna add it here even though I’m not too certain but here it is anyway:

if Hobie uses guitar picks to play his guitar -which he probs doesn’t but idk- I’d like to think he’d make you a guitar pick necklace from one of his old picks.

Sure he hates gifts and such but this is the sole expectation alongside any and all handcrafted jewellery you may give him because he wears that shit with pride.

Terms of endearment:

Love

Darling

Sweetheart

Impromptu sleepovers:

Hobie crashes at your place more often then not to the point he might as well be living with you in regards of how often he leaves something of his at yours, so much so you’ve begun to wonder if he was doing it intentionally or accidentally.

Either way you made sure that his stay was comfortable by having a makeshift bed set up for him so he didn’t have to constantly sleep on the uncomfortable couch and wake up with a crooked neck.

Hobie appreciates all that you do for him but would often tell you it’s not necessary but you weren’t about to get into a discussion about whether or not he was deserving of help because the answer was obvious and that answer would always and forever will be; yes.

Also he’s a bit of a cuddle bug but only with you but that’s your little secrete.

Date nights:

Most, if not all of your dates are either just the pair of you being your natural selves in the comfort of your own home where’d you would talk about anything and everything that came to your mind, free of judgment.

or

showing Hobie your undying love and support by showing up to his gigs and scream the loudest because he is talented as shit and deserves a lot more in your eyes.

Either way as long as you were within each others company, anywhere you both went could be considered a date.

Spidey business:

Now this is all dependant on wether or not you know he’s Spider-Man:

If you did then you’d probably would help him patch up his wounds after every fight he had

Or

If you weren’t due to Hobie wanting nothing more then to keep you and that life as far from each other as possible, you’d most definitely would be concerned when you see him with any sustained injuries he tried patching up himself.

No matter how hard you try to get him to tell you what’s wrong, Hobie would just tell you it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle.

Meeting his friends/ Bragging rights:

Before introducing you to the likes of Pavitr, Miles and Gwen(if you haven’t already met her), it’s almost an 100% guarantee that he brags about you anyway he knows how which only intrigues them more and more to the point they’re just pleading with Hobie to introduce his cool, kickass partner to them.

So when he does, the three are practically hounding you about your relationship with Hobie and when you looked back at him for help in wrangling in his over excited friends, the little shit merely smirks and shrugs his shoulders as though he had no idea they’d react like this, all the while leaning on the wall with his arms crossed over his chest; happy to see all his favourite people he cares about a lot interacting with one another to the point that by the end of the day you’re very good friends with each of them.

[buckybabesonly]

Disillusioned

Summary: Every time I tried to take a step closer, he took a step back. Falling in love with Bucky Barnes was easy, but the distance he kept between us was torture.

Pairing: Bucky x female!Reader

Genre: Angst, happy ending(?)

Warnings: Smut! And minor character death

Length: 3.5k

A/N: My love for Bucky/Sebastian Stan has inspired me to write again 💕 Enjoy (I hope)!

He was having a nightmare.

Bucky didn't often agree to stay the night - I suspected this was part of the reason why. I woke up to sounds of grunting and the loud grinding of his jaw, my bleary eyes adjusting to the view in front of me.

Moonlight illuminated his profile, his eyes shut and brow furrowed, a thin sheen of sweat on his face. He was still asleep, his fists clenching the sheets as I slowly extended a hand.

"Bucky," I whispered, my voice hoarse. I cleared my throat, touching his naked shoulder gingerly. "Bucky," I repeated louder.

He stirred then, eyes snapping open. He almost looked shocked to see me in bed with him, as if he'd forgotten where he was. He pushed himself to sit upright with a sharp inhale, jaw still clenched.

"Are you okay?" I asked, propping myself up with one elbow, concern laced through my voice despite the exhaustion.

"M'fine," Bucky replied in a tone that told me he was most definitely not fine. He wasn't even looking at me, his blue eyes looking at the wall, distant, as if he was recalling an unpleasant memory. Or as if he just didn't want to look at my face. "I gotta go."

"Now?" I glanced at my alarm clock. It wasn't even 4am.

"Yeah." Bucky stood up, and I blushed despite myself at his naked form. My cheeks burned further as I recalled the particularly heated session we had just a few hours ago, both of us collapsing into a sweaty mess. I had whispered a Please, can you stay? to him before I was lulled into sleep, surprised when he had simply grunted and stayed by my side.

"Wait, Bucky - " I reached out instinctively and held onto his right hand, which felt colder than his vibranium one when he almost instantly snatched it away. I faltered, biting down onto my lower lip. "Can we - what's the rush?"

This happened all the time. Whenever I was lucky enough to have Bucky fall asleep by my side, more often than not, he would wake up from the nightmares and just leave, no matter what the hour was. We had never even slept through a sunrise together.

"I have things to do," was his response, his eyes never once meeting mine.

I clutched the sheets against my torso, feeling the all-too familiar cold, creeping feeling in my chest. That feeling of rejection, the feeling of unhappiness when I remembered that Bucky and I weren't really anything, not really. Not quite friends, not quite lovers, and definitely not a couple. He had made that clear.

"Can we just talk for five minutes?" I asked quietly as Bucky hurried to get dressed, his clothes flung haphazardly around my bedroom.

"About what?"

Anything, I wanted to scream. What do you call it when you are so unbelievably in love with someone, so desperate to keep them in your life that you are willing to just be someone that they came to whenever they wanted some casual company, a warm body, some fun? The word I was searching for was "pathetic", probably.

"Do you want to talk about your nightmares?" I asked, picking my nails nervously. I watched as Bucky paused pulling on his shirt for just a millisecond, almost as if he was caught off guard by my query.

"I don't talk about them," Bucky said after a moment, shaking his head.

"Don't you think you might feel better if you -"

"Look," Bucky said sharply, turning to face me. His stern expression softened ever so slightly at the sight of my face, which no doubt looked as torn and pitiful as I felt in that moment. I knew that I had no place to act as if I could help him in any way - what could I possibly do for him?

Bucky's lips formed a tight smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"I appreciate the concern. But there's nothing you can do to help me."

Right. Just as I thought.

For some reason, this statement almost made me want to cry. It was another subtle reminder of that tiny spark of hope that maybe, just maybe, I had some small weighting to Bucky's life. Maybe I wasn't just a girl that Bucky came to when he wanted to let off some steam. A spark that was always being snuffed out like a candle.

Bucky left quietly and without so much as a goodbye. The room felt so much emptier without him in it.

Sometimes, I felt that Bucky might genuinely care for me.

Whenever he came to see me, it wasn't always just sex. Sometimes we would spend time together doing things like a normal couple might do - he would help me with random errands, have dinner with me, sometimes even tell me stories from his past, a glimpse into his history.

But it was hot and cold with him. Whenever I dared to let myself believe that Bucky was opening up to me, he would suddenly slam the door shut and leave me out in the cold again.

Bucky Barnes made me weak. I was so willing to give my heart to this man who didn't even know what to do with it.

We were in my apartment on a Sunday afternoon as he tinkered about with the plumbing in my bathroom, offering to help me fix it when he saw that it was leaking. I watched with a small smile on my face as I handed him various tools, watching his face scrunched up in concentration.

My phone lit-up, chiming suddenly with six consecutive notifications. Bucky saw my grimace as I glanced at the screen and switched it to silent.

"What's that?" He asked, grunting as he inspected the bathroom pipes, turning his back to me.

"Um." I paused, my tongue darting out to wet my lips. "This guy that my sister is trying to set me up with. She gave him my number and he's been pestering me." I tried to keep my voice light hearted, but the words fell out like lead. My statement was true, but I couldn't care less about this guy - I couldn't even remember his name. I was just playing the childish tactic of trying to make Bucky feel jealous.

Bucky's hands stilled, just for a second, before they resumed their movement. He couldn't have sounded less interested if he tried when he responded, "Give it a go."

I blinked, my gut twisting.

"What?"

Bucky shrugged. "Maybe dating someone will do you some good."

My heart dropped to the bottom of my stomach. I didn't know why I was always so keen to self-inflict this pain. It was as if I needed to constantly remind myself that Bucky just didn't want me in that way, until I would get the message.

"Yeah. Maybe."

When Bucky fucked me that night, he held me tighter than usual.

His forehead pressed against mine, our lips pressed together in an angry kiss, his tongue wet and hot in my mouth. He thrust inside me again and again and again, hips snapping as his hands circled themselves around my wrists, holding them above my head.

His mouth opened and he gasped, my back arching with pleasure as his cock continued to slide in and out of me, searching for release.

He came inside me with a moan, his mouth latching onto my neck to leave a hickey, marking my skin, his chest shuddering on top of mine as he came down from his high.

As usual, he left shortly after despite my quiet request for him to stay.

When my friends asked me how I would be spending my birthday, I lied and said I just wanted to spend it alone. Alone with Bucky.

I was delighted when I asked Bucky if he would have dinner with me on my birthday. He nodded and promised he would be there.

I sat in my apartment, clothed in a little red dress that I was sure Bucky would like. I was bouncing on my feet in excitement when he finally knocked on the door, and I beamed at him when I answered.

He was dressed in dark jeans, navy shirt and my favourite leather jacket of his. He looked me up and down, the corners of his lips quirking up into a smile.

"You look pretty," he said unexpectedly, his voice sincere.

I blushed, my cheeks on fire. "Thank you."

This was exactly how I wanted to spend my day. With Bucky, having dinner in a tiny little French restaurant that we had both discovered one day months ago, walking along the river afterwards as the sun set. I wanted to hold his hand so much, wanted to cling onto his arm, but I knew better than to do so.

"I need to tell you something," Bucky said solemnly as I smiled. I felt so unbelievably happy with him in this moment. This was one of those moments I managed to tell myself that I could accept being his not-quite-a-lover-and-not-quite-a-friend as long as he was by my side.

"What is it?" My smile faded slowly as he met my eyes, his expression stoic.

"I want you to be happy," he said carefully. "You deserve it." The words hung in the air as I waited for him to continue, not even daring to guess what he really wanted to say. "I know how you feel about me."

"How do I feel about you?" I challenged softly. I had never said the words out loud, but I knew that he knew. I just wanted to hear him say it.

"I know you love me," he said after a long pause. The sound of the water filled the silence as I looked at him, unsure of what he would say next. "I want you to be happy, but you know I can't give that to you."

There was a long, strained silence. "Why not?" I asked, my chest tightening. I knew I was being stupid, pathetic even, just by asking the question. "You never even gave us a chance."

I don't deserve one.

"You knew from the beginning that this could never be anything more than what it is," Bucky said, his tone gentle but his eyes hard.

"Why?" I repeated, frustration bubbling.

"Because I don't do relationships," Bucky retorted, voice now sharp. His words stuck themselves into me like needles. "I want you to be happy, really. Truly. But I can't give you a happy ending."

Why did it feel like he was breaking up with me when there was no relationship to break in the first place?

"So now what?" I whispered, trying desperately not to cry. Not in front of him, please. I wanted to know if he ever felt anything for me. I wanted to know if there was ever a time where he might have considered loving me back.

"I'll be leaving the city tomorrow. For good."

I had no right to ask him to stay. Bucky Barnes was his own person, and he would do what he wanted to. I was inconsequential, a nothing. I had let myself become so caught up in this fantasy and my stupid hope, setting myself up for failure.

"Okay."

Love was such a fucking trap. Bucky had tried the whole dating thing in the past, naively thinking that maybe, he could actually find someone and get a taste of normalcy. Before he met her, he had dated a few different girls, but something never felt quite right.

And then she exploded into his life, all smiles and positivity and everything that Bucky might actually need and want.

It fucking terrified him.

He fell in love so quickly with her. It felt so easy, so right. But as soon as he made that realisation, he also knew - love was dangerous. She was so delicate, so trusting, Bucky felt like he wanted to be around her to protect her always.

But having her meant that she would always be in danger. There would always be a threat, lying dormant, until one day something would happen to her. As long as Bucky cared about her, she would always be something to lose.

Sam said he was being dumb. That he was hurting her by teasing her with Bucky's presence and yet always being just out of her reach.

Bucky was selfish. He just didn't want to let her go, even if it meant that every time she took a step forward, he would take a step back and watch her heart get crushed.

But it wasn't sustainable. He knew he had to bite the bullet and leave eventually.

He just told himself that he would do it the day after. Or the day after. Or the day after that.

He just always wanted one more day with her.

Bucky had left two months ago.

Those two months passed by like my own personal hell. The calls left unanswered, the texts left unread. I felt so pathetic as I stared at our WhatsApp conversation, my words being fired off despite telling myself that I shouldn't.

Wed 7 Dec - How are you?

Fri 9 Dec - Where are you right now? Thinking about you.

Mon 19 Dec - I know you won't answer. I don't even know why I bother you text you these. I just want to know if I ever meant anything to you.

Sat 24 Dec - I think I was so stupid to love you.

I don't know what else I expected. He was the famous Bucky Barnes, one of Earth's mightiest heroes. He was busy saving lives and doing dangerous shit, and I was - what? Some random girl who just happened to be there at one point in his life. If it wasn't me, it would have been someone else who had ended up as his fuck-buddy.

The realisation was heart-wrenching. He could easily take off and leave, never answer the phone or my messages, because I was never anything important to him. He could write me out of his life, because I was just a page in his novel. To be forgotten about.

I heard about Sam's death half a year after Bucky had left.

It was plastered across the newspaper headlines. Sam had been killed on a mission in Siberia, a mission headed by himself and Bucky. The moment I heard the breaking news on the radio, my heart stopped, the grief threatening to crush me.

There was a public memorial in Washington, D.C., near the National Mall. I attended alone, travelling there alongside hundreds of thousands of other people, strangers, all wishing to pay their respects to the Falcon.

I didn't expect to see him there. I was so confident that he would be mourning him privately, away from the public eye, away from all the people.

I thought I was hallucinating when I saw the dark figure leaning against the passenger side of my door, cap on his head, leather gloves tight around his hands. I didn't even need to meet his eyes to know it was him.

There were no words exchanged. He got into my car silently as I did the same, barely daring to breathe lest he suddenly dissipate into the air like an illusion, as I was convinced he couldn't be real.

It wasn't until we got back to my hotel that he snapped. The door closed and he was there, crumpling into my arms, his own wrapped around me tightly, his face buried into my shoulder.

His tears wet my skin, ragged breathing loud and in agony.

"I'm so sorry," he moaned in a pained voice, his arms squeezing me so hard that I could barely breathe. "I am so sorry."

"Bucky," I whispered, feeling his warmth against me as I finally dared to accept that he was really here. He was really, truly here. "I got you. It's okay."

"No," he gasped, his tears soaking my shirt. I had never seen him cry before, and the vulnerability broke my heart. "I can't lose you too. I can't lose you."

His knees buckled, dragging me onto the floor with him as he cried, his arms never once letting go of me. My hands lifted to stroke his hair as his chest heaved with painful sobs.

This was the sound of a broken man. The sound of someone who had lost Steve, and now Sam, and the floodgates had finally broke.

He lifted his head to look at me, eyes bloodshot and his hands raised to cradle my face. I felt so overwhelmed by all the emotions in my heart - grief, confusion, love, relief, sadness. Everything all at once, crushing my ability to think straight. Everything felt surreal, happening at a pace that I couldn't keep up with.

"I don't deserve you," he whispered. "I wanted to keep you safe, wanted to keep you - keep you alive, want you to have a normal life, and I ruined everything. I ruined everything." The words streamed out nonsensically to me. "I had to leave, had to go before things got too bad, but I was so stupid. Being so fucking stupid. I can't lose you too. I can't lose you."

"James, breathe," I said gently, staring back at him and trying not to reveal just how worried and perplexed I was.

"You knew, right? You had to know how I felt about you, deep down," Bucky asked, pleading. I didn't answer as he continued to sob - I simply held him, letting him cry against me.

Nightfall came, and Bucky had quietened. You were both lying on the bed, fully clothed, his hand clutching yours tightly. The feeling felt unfamiliar and right at the same time.

"I have always loved you," Bucky said quietly, his eyes staring up at the ceiling.

My breath hitched. He's lying, the voice of doubt said, loudly and clearly in your mind.

"I fell in love with you. How could not?" He continued, his voice pained. "But it terrified me. The feeling of being in love, of having something to lose. The knowledge that I am what I am - someone with a history, with blood on my hands, knowing I've done unspeakable things that I am so afraid for you to find out about."

I turned my head to look at him, not quite daring to believe what he was saying.

"You have no idea." He looked at me finally, his eyes still wet and tortured. "I wanted to let you know how much I loved you. I wanted to be happy with you. But I couldn't."

"Bucky..."

"But I'm tired of running away," he said quietly, shaking his head. "Leaving you was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I don't think I can survive without you." He laughed suddenly, humorlessly. "Is that selfish?"

"No," I replied instantly. My stomach swirled, and I knew he could see the doubt in my eyes with just one look.

"You don't believe me, do you?"

I remained silent for a long minute before I finally answered. "I just don't understand how you could love me."

I flinched at the rage that flashed across his face. Not quite anger at me, I realised, but fury at himself.

"I made you think that I didn't love you back," he said tersely, fists balling up. "And I will never forgive myself for that. I was playing hero but actually I was just being stubborn. Being so unbelievably stupid."

He rolled over to position himself on top of me suddenly, eyes fixed on mine. He propped himself up above me with his hands on either side of my head, eyes pleading.

"When I met you, I had no idea I could feel this way for anyone. The way you smiled at me, the way you understood me, the way you made me laugh and the way you cared. When you fell in love with me, I could feel it. I felt so special to be the one you chose.

I told myself that I couldn't let you in. I couldn't let it get too far. I couldn't tell you about myself, about my childhood, about the terrible things I've done, about the good things I've done, about the hopes and dreams I had for the future. I told myself that if I let you in, it would be too real. You would be someone that I could lose, and if i lost you, it would kill me."

"So you would rather just leave me?" I whispered, my eyes welling up at the memory of the long six months I'd endured without him.

"I thought I was keeping you safe," he replied, eyes closing briefly as he gritted his teeth.

"You broke my heart," I said simply. The statement wasn't made to hurt him, but rather just a declaration of the truth.

"I don't know what to do," Bucky said, shaking his head as his eyes revealed the conflict in his mind. "I don't want to be apart from you anymore. But I don't want to risk putting you in danger. As long as you're with me, you will always be in danger. I don't know what to do," he repeated, looking so anguished that I wanted to cry all over again.

"Please just stay," I pleaded. "Please stay with me."

Bucky kissed you finally, his chapped lips against yours, melting into you as soon as they met. He sighed shakily, as if he was finally home after a long day.

"I'll stay. I'll protect you with everything I have. I promise."

[sillymilie]

Charles Leclerc smut

In which you and your boyfriend get into an argument but then quickly realize how much you both care for each other Warnings: argument, yelling, morning sex, moaning, clit rubbing, hard sex

You and Charles started fighting once you got back home, and it all happened because of a stupid argument. You both know you hadn't gotten much sleep lately because of work. Charles was traveling and you were accompanying him like you always have. You were busy with deals and offers from companies since you were a model. Every chance you had to sleep, you took it. Your boyfriend knew how bad the 'lack of sleep' situation was and so did you.

"You're always like this!" You yelled at Charles, taking off your coat and placing it harshly on the coat hanger, throwing your house and car keys somewhere you didn't acknowledge of.

"Oh yeah? Like what?!" Charles raised his voice, not bothering to take his jacket off and following you close behind. His tone was aggressive and you didn't like it, but so was yours.

"You keep putting everything on me! I'm tired of it! You never stop throwing things at me as if you were the only one exhausted of work! Well guess what? I'm tired too, Charles!" You sighed and stopped yelling. You let yourself fall onto the couch, exhausted from all the fighting. Charles' eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes were intense. He stared at you, putting his hands on his hips. You looked back at him, hesitant about whether or not you should talk again, but he started speaking.

"Oh, (Y/N), mon amour I'm so sorry."(my love) Charles was almost whispering now. His face became soft as he set himself besides you on the couch. He sighed and blinked slowly, just like you did.

You didn't say anything in return. The sickening feeling of being tired took over you. After you closed your eyes, Charles didn't say anything. He knew how tired you already were and he felt awful for what he had done. Your boyfriend didn't mean any of this. He was as tired as you. When you were about to drift to sleep, you felt yourself get lifted up, a strong presence surrounding you. It didn't awake you though. Charles carefully set you down on the bed you shared and he took your shoes off. He then placed you under the blankets, locked the front door, turned the lights off and joined you in bed shortly afterwards.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ꒰ঌ ♡ ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

The sound of birds chirping slowly woke you up. The natural beaming light coming from outside blinded you a little. You turned your head away and rubbed your eyelids. It took you multiple tries to get your eyes to fully open.

You looked to your left and there was Charles, close to you, his hand resting on your hip. He looked so damn good you just wanted to leave kisses all over his face.

After finally having a decent amount of sleep, you felt much better compared to the previous days. You were sure Charles would feel the same once he'd wake up. From what had happened last night, talking about the fight wouldn't be very pleasing. Of course, your boyfriend would always hear what you have to say first and then add something to get rid of the bad energy that filled the room. But not this time.

"Bébé," (Baby) Charles said, grunting because he'd just woken up. You looked at him and his eyes were still closed, but he pulled you closer to him.

"Hi, good morning." You said with a small smile on your face as you admired him. Your boyfriend didn't respond. Instead he opened his eyes, deeply looking into yours.

"Good morning." He finally answered, grabbing your face and kissing you. You kissed him back immediately, feeling the negative tension from yesterday between you two fade away.

Charles' touch made you weak. Although you knew what he wanted in this specific moment, nothing was said from you. His hands trailed over your side, then down to your thighs, lightly squeezing them as he gave your neck hickeys. Charles was on top of you, gazing at your lips in need. You cooperated, wanting this as much as he did. He was only wearing his boxers while you still had your clothes on from yesterday. Your boyfriend made sure to undress you, quickly but carefully.

"Babe, just do it." You complained, knowing he was teasing you in so many ways. It killed you.

"How bad do you want it? Hm?" Charles moaned into your ear, his breath shaking as his hard dick was pressing onto your core.

"Too bad. Please, Charles." You practically begged for him to stop teasing and start making love to you.

"I love you." He said, his head in the crook of your neck as he entered you slowly and passionately. You let out a moan, feeling his dick into you. He felt so good.

Charles let you adjust to his size, making sounds come out of your mouth. It wasn't easy for your boyfriend either. His eyes were shut as he kissed your neck, his hand making it's way to your clit. Charles was good, too good even. From the very beginning of your relationship, he knew how to please you and make you feel better each time you had sex with him.

He rubbed your clit in a circular motion, feeling your tight pussy clench around his cock. Charles moaned too, which made you even more horny than you already were. His pace got quicker as he continued to rub your clit and make you moan. Your hands were around his back, your nails digging into his skin. Charles loved the feeling of it. He was obsessed with how you left marks on him from the pleasure he gave you.

"I'm close Charles-" You whined, your legs starting to shake.

"Me too. Fuck, you feel too good mon ange." (my angel)

Charles' was slamming into you, hard and fast. He rubbed your clit faster, causing you to let go of his back and grab the bedsheets tightly with your fists. As the both of you moaned, you came at the same time, the two hot cums blending perfectly together. Charles was sweating from the intense sex, and your legs were still shaking from the intensity of it all.

"Je t'aime tellement mon amour." (I love you so much my love) Your boyfriend whispered in your ear, kissing your soft lips as he was still inside you. You couldn't answer yet and he knew that.

Once you recovered more, Charles pulled out of you and let himself fall besides you on the bed. Heavy breathing was heard inside the room. You were tired after such an amazing and hard moment.

"We should clean ourselves up. Come on, let's take a shower." Charles said as he grabbed your hands and helped you get up. He turned the hot water on to the perfect temperature and grabbed two towels for when you'd be done with cleaning up.

[kitten4sannie]

*slams door open for the seance* I am going to throw my two favorite sans together - demon cat boy. Imagine San as a nekomata, a demon cat with two tails, who’s been sneaking around humanity for a good century or two. He’s had his tricks and pranks with humans, always wandering, never staying in one place too long.

Until he meets you.

There’s just something about you draws him to you, and before he knows it he’s made your home his home. If you’re suspicious of the fact he has two tails, it doesn’t show much, just that you make sure to pet each tail with equal amount of love.

San loves the fact you praise him and spoil him, and he takes full advantage of your affection. He’s a cuddle whore, always in your lap kneading away in happiness with loud purrs.

But then he hears you one night, in your room, door closed to keep him out. He knows you’re getting off in your room, writhing on your bed, trying to imitate the satisfaction that only a lover could give you. And oh the sounds you make. So beautiful. And he can’t help but imagine what kind of sounds you’d make beneath him as he’d ruin you over and over again through the entire night.

San was always good at having patience, but now? With him palming his cock, tail twitching, as he listens to you through the door? His patience has worn thin, especially since it’s been quite a while since he’s slept with another being. And besides, it was only considerate of him to return the love you gave to him, right?

(Anyway just a thought I thought you’d might enjoy. Congrats on your 3K milestone! 🤭)

roo !!!! OH MY GODDDDD. i’ve told you before and i tell you again: you are a geniusss for this idea like you’re out here playing 4D chess while everyone’s still trying to figure out checkers sksk like holy shit nekomata san ….. demon !! cat boy !! sannie !!! me and the spirits are all staring at each other in disbelief rn hdjshd anyways i hope you enjoy :3 <333

⛧ seance smutfest ⛧

w.c: 2.7k

warnings: dom! san (he’s a little meanie in this), sub! fem reader (has a few tricks up her sleeve <3), san has cat hybrid/demon characteristics, he also has two cocks btw *cough*, pet names, praise, teasing, some outright disgusting romantic behavior (and a few L bombs??? *gasp* lesbians <3 no i’m jk sksjh i wish 😔), like one cat pun okayyy, kissing, possessiveness, olfactophilia, brief almost mutual masturbation, oral (receiving), squirting, double penetration in one hole (i mean…i had to yk?), creampie, cum kink idk

Masterlist

Just like every other night, you sat in your living room watching a new series on some overpriced streaming service with your dear companion curled up with his head resting on your lap, enjoying each other’s company in comfortable silence. You found yourself moving your hands through his obscenely soft jet black hair for what seemed like hours, giving the purring demon’s shifting ears and dual tails the occasional loving stroke.

You enjoyed physical touch as much as the next person, but San was a different breed. He enjoyed it so much, he couldn’t keep himself from reciprocating in order to show his immeasurable appreciation and desire for you. That explained the deep, reverberating purrs that were coming from his chest, the coy little look he was giving you past his long eyelashes from below, his pink lips parted like he was waiting for you to say or do something. What, you didn’t know. Kiss him, maybe. Or tease him, perhaps. San wasn’t even quite sure what he wanted himself, but what he was sure of, was that he wanted to keep massaging your soft, bare thighs, especially since he finally managed to wiggle his way up underneath your sleep shorts.

Once the show lost its grip on your mind, you were suddenly distinctly aware of the way San was kneading into your upper thighs, his fingers getting dangerously close to your bare cunt. Was he just an adorable demon kitty getting lost in the moment or was he being naughty? Regardless, you began to get worked up over it. 

When San slowly closed his eyes again from how warm and relaxed his body felt, you subtly squeezed around the base of one of his tails for only a moment, encouraging a light, throaty moan to leave San’s mouth. You smiled innocently down at him, despite the prolonged throb you felt in your core. “Are you feeling good, San?” you asked sweetly, about to do it again when the demon’s tail curled around your wrist, the other one gently grazing your chest. 

 “T-too good, mortal,” San mumbled, his cheeks flushing with color, his dual-colored eyes finding solace in your equally flustered disposition. “Y’know how sensitive my tails are.” 

“How does it make your body feel?” You bit your bottom lip, running your fingers over the tail that began to drift down your chest, familiar with the pheromones he could release at any moment, wanting them to envelop you.

“Warm,” he replied simply, staring you down quite intensely, a small, pleased smile on his face, his fangs just barely visible past his curled lips. He knew what you were doing and what you clearly wanted, but he would wait to confront you for now, instead releasing pheromones that made the both of you develop an instant body and head high, like you were experiencing the effects of a body-altering fever. 

“I…think I’m going to lay down for a bit, Sannie. I’m feeling a little overheated all of a sudden,” you sighed, gently pushing San off of you and standing up, unconsciously adjusting the crotch of your shorts, knowing internally how wet you were already. 

San knew too, of course. He didn’t even have to see it for his own eyes. He could smell it. Your dripping arousal, just asking to be lapped up.

Shifting from one foot to the other, you pressed your thighs together, giving him a weak smile, the throbbing you felt almost becoming almost impossible to ignore any longer. “Why don’t you watch that one baking show with all the kitties that you like…to, um, keep yourself busy?”

San sat up from his relaxed position on the couch, letting out an inconvenienced meow. He was already so hard, mostly due to laying his head on your thighs. Your soft, soft thighs. He pressed his hands into the cushion below him, instinctively kneading it. “Kat’s Kitchen?” he asked, his head tilting to the side.

“Yes, watch that, okay?” You swallowed, clearing your throat. Even though it was perfectly normal to get aroused over such a thing, this time around, you were absolutely drenched, so you couldn’t help but feel like a pervert, unsure if San was just being his unsuspecting, cute hybrid self or if he was purposely trying to initiate something with you.

San watched you walk away with interest, momentarily deciding to turn on the show he loved so much. He sat there for a while, satisfied with the cute cats zooming around and playing together on screen while their owner put a cake in the oven and instructed the viewers on how long it should bake. A sudden overwhelmingly sweet aroma drifted into his nose, causing it to twitch and his pupils to grow to the size of marbles. 

“Y/N…” He climbed off of the couch and headed towards the source of the scent, which just so happened to be your bedroom. Hearing soft sounds of pleasure slipping out past the cracked door, San pushed his face into it, causing it to open a bit more and allowing him to see you in all your glory — fully naked and covered in a light sheen of sweat, your legs fully spread open with a vibrator pressed directly into your swollen clit, while earnestly finger-fucking your squelching cunt. 

“T-typical lust-driven mortal…” he stuttered to himself, unaware of how red his cheeks were, or how hard he was breathing, hardly noticing that he was already grinding himself against the doorframe, more and more beads of pre-cum staining the front of his sweatpants the longer he watched you pleasure yourself. 

“Wanna cum…” Huffing and blowing a bit of hair out of the way, you slid the vibrator into your aching cunt, working your clit with two digits. 

“Fuck, Y/N…” San groaned and gripped the doorframe tightly, routinely dropping his hips and desperately thrusting upwards into the sleek wood, wishing he was inside you instead. 

“San…fuck, don’t stop,” you moaned out, hastily dropping one of your legs down against the bed, pushing the toy further in, your fingers starting to cramp. “Fuck me, please, fuck me harder…” 

The demon’s fluffy ears rotated individually like satellite dishes that were on two opposite frequencies, his hips slowly ceasing their movement. That was basically an invite, right? And if you wanted him so bad, then he might as well give you a reason to moan his name again. 

You didn’t even notice San’s presence until he was on the bed and in between your legs, his warm hands massaging into your thighs and his mouth near your pussy, turning red at the sight of his clear desire. His friendly, always curious look was replaced with an intense, unwavering gaze, his mismatched eyes sharp and focused solely on yours. 

“Y/N, I heard you calling for me…” He squeezed your thighs, pressing his cheek to the inside of one of them, nuzzling it lovingly. “Will you let me show you how good it feels to be loved by me?” 

Blushing, you gave him a sheepish smile, eventually reaching down to slip your fingers into his sleek black hair. “Show me, San.” 

-

“Show me, Y/N,” San said in a soft, muffled voice, his glistening lips and tongue on your clit, his fingers locked in an aggressive ‘come hither’ motion inside your pulsing hole. “Let me see the way you fall apart for me.”

“Sannie, it’s coming out, oh my god, I’m, fuck–” you cried out, tossing your head back, your body twitching and shuddering as you catapulted head-first into your orgasm, coating San’s tongue and fingers with your squirt. 

“Mmm, that’s my good girl.” San took a deep inhale of your wet heat, his nose grazing over your extremely sensitive clit, rubbing your wetness around with his fingers, finding your small whimpers satisfying enough for him to begin purring. “Fuck, you smell and taste so good, baby, I can’t get enough.” He began to lap at your clit with his rough tongue, his reverberating purrs sending wave after wave of pleasure throughout your body. 

“S-sannie, no more tongue,” you whined, lightly tugging on his hair, only encouraging him to lick at your cunt even faster than before, his nose routinely grinding into your clit. This sent you over the edge, your cunt clenching around nothing now that his fingers were rubbing circles in your thighs. “Pleaseee, I need you, I need you so bad.” 

“What do you need from me, baby?” he questioned with a brow raised, licking up the cum that had leaked out of you and swallowing it down, making you jolt. “Say it.”

“Your cock, I need it,” you sighed out, your mind clouded with immeasurable desire for the feline-like demon. 

“Both of them?” he teased, his head quirking to the side, his eyes upturned with clear satisfaction. Still in between your legs, he slowly sat up, lowering his boxers just enough to let his thin, but long dual cocks slip out and slap against one another. He smiled at you, flashing his tiny cat fangs at you, about to grow a third cock just from the way you were looking at them. “You’ve been so wet and needy for me all night, baby. I bet you can take them, can’t you?” 

“Yeah, I can, so please fuck me, Sannie,” you desperately agreed, your mouth watering at the sight of his throbbing, veiny pink cocks just asking to be shoved deep inside you.

“Good girl. Now, open up for me, sweetheart.” San guided his cocks to your entrance, smiling at the sight of you obediently holding your thighs open for him. He pursed his lips together to let some spit drip down onto his lengths, lubing them up with his hands, before he began to slowly push into you. “That’s it…How’s that, baby?” 

“K-keep going,” you breathed out, your eyes zoned in on where your bodies met, San’s cocks slipping further and further into your heat, ready to cum just from the pleasurable stretch you began to feel. 

“Look at you, taking all of me like this,” San chimed breathlessly as he bottomed out, his cocks twitching inside you, his hands rubbing your hips affectionately. 

San was definitely in your guts. You wanted him to mix them all up like he had already done with your emotions. “I’m so full, Sannie. It’s so good.” 

San smiled sweetly, beaming with pride. He began to knead your lower abdomen, feeling the outline of himself inside you underneath his fingertips. “Good girls like you deserve to be spoiled. I’m going to move now, okay, sweetheart?” 

“Okay, Sannie,” you answered softly, reaching up to caress his cheeks, slowly guiding his lips down onto yours. You looked into each other’s wide eyes for a second before your irises disappeared under your equally heavy eyelids, breathing yourselves out and taking one another in instead, melting together in a mess of carnal adoration and idyllic purity.  

And, just like that, he was fucking into you like a well-oiled machine, quick and consistent, making sure to go balls deep so you wouldn’t have to go one single second without both of his cocks rubbing deliciously against your inner walls, effectively lighting your insides ablaze. Groaning into your open mouth, he broke the kiss to express, almost drunkenly, “Fuck, your pussy’s so tight, baby, fits me like a glove. Like you were made for me, huh?” 

“Made just for you,” you replied against his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to them, only for him to press his mouth firmly back onto yours. You moaned onto his gliding sandpaper tongue when he grabbed the underside of your thighs and folded you in half, sinking deeper into your cunt, reaching places you never thought existed. 

Besides the repetitive gasps and whines San was forcing out of you with every snap of his hips, the distinct sound of your wetness could be heard squelching in between your joined sweaty bodies. San inevitably broke the messy kiss to whisper, “Hear that?” 

“Yeah, I can hear it,” you squeaked out, barely able to focus on the sound of your arousal over the sensation of being stuffed with two throbbing cocks at once, your core already strung so tightly it could snap at any second and propel you into an abyss of pleasure. 

“You’re so wet for me, Y/N, so fucking wet.” San gripped your thighs, pulling out in preparation for a deep thrust, one of his cocks accidentally slipping out all the way, allowing the other to grind along your cunt and across your clit. “Oh, fuck, I can barely stay inside, baby. It feels so hot, oh god, I might cum.” 

“Cum for me, Sannie.” You reached down and stroked his pulsing cock, causing San to toss his head back in ecstasy, your fingers slipping against his reddened, slick cockhead when ropes of hot cum shot out of it, coating your pelvis and dripping down onto your cunt. “Silly kitty, that was supposed to go in me.” 

Without hesitation, San pulled out completely and ran his fingers through the puddles of cum he left behind on your skin, eagerly slipping them into your hole and fucking the still warm liquid inside you, landing a critical hit on you with one sudden, filthy move. “There we go,” he beamed snarkily, holding his cocks and slowly pushing his cockheads back into your stretched cunt, but stopping halfway. “Are my cocks supposed to go back in you too, pretty girl? Or are you tuckered out?”  

“No, I want it, feels so good, Sannie. I love the way you make me feel.” You ran your hands down San’s back, feeling his muscles tense up against your fingertips as he pushed himself all the way back inside and got back to work, pushing his cum deeper into you, his tails occasionally brushing against your skin like a paintbrush. “Don’t stop, okay?” 

“Oh, baby,” he cooed into your ear, looking you in the eye. “I’m not going to stop until you fall apart for me. Remember that? Or is my princess feeling a bit forgetful right now?” He sighed against your fragrant, warm skin, slowly lowering himself to your neck to lick, suck, and lightly bite it, marking what was his. 

“Don’t be such a tease, Sannie,” you pouted, taking ahold of his tails near the base, stroking them in an outwards direction, hearing what were going to be words come out as groans instead — ones that grew softer and more drawn out, turning into pleasured moans the more you played with with his wavering tails. “Were you going to say something, Sannie? Who’s–nngh–the forgetful one now, huh?” 

San continued to moan and gasp for air, his once intentional thrusts growing sloppier and more desperate by the second, drool starting to drip down past his glistening lips. Feeling your fingers tighten around the base of his tails, San clutched your thighs tightly, his eyebrows screwing together. “W-wait, if you do that, I’m–”

“Aww, what’s wrong, Sannie? Cat got your tongue?” you giggled, squeezing his tails and rubbing them together like you would do with his cocks, about to tease him further when something hot and thick began to pour deep inside you and coat your inner walls with white, your breath getting caught in your throat. “Oh, San, oh my god, it’s so–”

“Cumming, I’m cumming for you, Y/N,” he choked out in between grunts, lowering himself down further to press kiss after kiss onto your swollen lips, groaning into your mouth form the way you hooked your legs around his slim waist, milking him of all his love with your clenching, throbbing cunt. “Fuck, I love you…love this…love you…” 

“Love you too,” you whispered against his moving lips, your overheated body shuddering against his as you both rode out your highs, finding yourself unable to swallow the lump that had formed inside your dry throat, not choosing to swallow your following words. “Please, don't stop, Sannie. Love me again.” 

San pulled back just enough to look down at your flushed, pretty face through his wet strands of hair, his fingers resting against your jaw. “I wasn’t planning on it, Y/N.” With his ears twitching slightly, San’s pink lips curled up just enough to let his fangs slip out, his cheeks dusted with pink. “I’ll love you until it’s pouring out of you. Until you’re so full of me, of my love, that you won’t need anyone else except for me. Does that sound good?”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© kitten4sannie, 2023.

[sehodreams]

fucking Anton with a breeding kink is so hot like when he has hot passionate romantic sex it definitely feels like baby making

Sorry, I don't think this is what you wanted to read but it's what came to my mind. It's been in my draft for so long, I tried to think of a different idea but it stayed like this 😭

TW and tags: p in v, no condom, literally babymaking.

He's especially needy on these occasions. You don't really understand what goes through his mind when he's pushing you to the bed all serious, or when he's brushing his fingers on your waist while you're getting ready for bed, but there's simply an alarm that starts sounding inside you, a "shit" repeating in your head because you know what's about to come.

He's not harder, or rougher. He's really slow since he wants to feel you more, caressing corners of your skin not even you pay attention, like that little emptiness in your collarbone, or the inside of your arm when he pushes your hands up to take control of your moves.

Still, finally, this day, he's brave enough to tell you those thoughts that fill his head and you always wondered about. Spitting things you know cross him in the middle of the night, you gasp for air when you hear his voice. "You'd look so pretty pregnant,'' he whispers. ''I can't stop thinking about us living in a bigger house, big enough for you to have anything you could ever want... don't you want to come and search for one with me?"

"What are you saying?" You answer. You want to think that maybe he's joking, but it's all so intense, his finger flicking your clit and his eyes on yours at every second, gleaming even in the dark.

"We could be a family, maybe a little girl to keep company to my favourite girl in the whole world?" He's going too far now, and you're trying to resist it. It's too drawing, the tone of his voice, the aroma of his bed that is almost yours now after all those nights sleeping together, and the image he's planting on your head. You're so comfy in that picture, being kissed by him while he rests his hand on your stomach, and everything is dizzy when he's sliding into you.

"You-you really want that?" You ask unsure, feeling too good and in a haze of pleasure. More than just loved, you feel almost adored.

"It's everything I can think about,'' he groans. ''I want to make my girl a mom, the most beautiful one."

Fuck, not again you say inside your head. He knows he shouldn't ask you for things while fucking. You're too weak to resist him when it's all so good, he pressing you to the mattress and his hips slowly finding that spot that doesn't let you think things twice when he bottoms out and steals every air you could have with his weight over you.

He's not saying anything else about it. He's just pounding and holding your hands over your head while the other in your waist keeps you in place to receive him. He couldn't let you move apart when your pussy is squelching, begging for him to spill everything inside.

You don't talk, but you want him to cum inside, you're too deep into the fantasy to say no to him, and soon you're clenching, not wanting to let him pull away from you and your new dream.

Fuck, you curse again. You're not even sure you want to be a mom. Obviously, you haven't thought about it as much as him.

Yet, you can see everything so clearly now. A house with a pretty garden, white ceilings and breakfast out in the fresh air on Sunday mornings.

You can't push him away when you know he's about to cum. His breath is getting harder with every thrust and the sweat is accumulating in his forehead. Usually, you'd have cleaned it with your hand, but he doesn't let you move, both wrists pinned in your pillow.

''I'm not wearing a condom,'' he warns you.

You don't know why he's telling you that by that point. You physically can't push him away, and you both know you can't say no to him, not while fucking, not at any moment, and this one is not the exception.

[with-my-calamitous-love]

LOSS OF MY LIFE

chuuya x reader

chuuya questions his humanity while you’re on your deathbed.

inspired by loml

he wished he never knew you.

at least then, he wouldn’t have the feeling of knowing you, knowing every part of you, but not having you around.

it all happened so fast. one wrong mission. one wrong move. one wrong mistake that should’ve landed on chuuya- but costed you everything. he should have seen the attack coming, but he didn’t. why didn’t he? the one time chuuya nakahara fucked up, it fucked you over instead.

it should have been me. he thought.

he’s lost track of time. he knows he has work to return to, stacks of paper on his desk. his stomach growls and his throat is parched for water. his eyes yearn to close, wanting to sleep. but he can’t. you’re not there to keep him company in his otherwise barren office. you’re not there to share the meal with him and scold him about staying hydrated. you’re not there to be wrapped up in his arms, fully trusting you while you sleep together. because you’re here. on the hospital bed, tubes attached to you keeping you alive.

the beeps of your heart monitor was merely white noise to him now. the doctors told him to hope for the best, but prepare for the worst. you were hit in one to many fatal areas. you lost almost too much blood. you might not recover. you might not wake up.

but she has too. he thought.

spending a year with someone does a lot to a person. chuuya had loved before you, but never like this. he had never promised so much for someone, felt his heart beat the way it did for you. you and him promised marriage, a family, you two promised forever.

chuuya nakahara was a man of the mafia.

and that meant he knew death better than anyone.

in his line of work, losing people meant hoping that death is kinder than life. he didn’t have the time to grieve, he could only wish them peace in slumber and fortify his heart. he had been through it, possibly preparing himself for worse and worse each time.

but nothing could have prepared him for this.

chuuya could feel his being overfill with grief. he had given so much love to you. so much time, so many promises, so many kisses, embraces, late nights and forevers to you. he’d given you every fibre of his mortal being because fuck, he loved you. and he had never felt a love like yours- and he didn’t want to try and feel anyone else’s because it would never feel like yours. his grief was just love with nowhere to go.

you were an anchor to chuuya’s humanity, something that kept him in place throughout all the pain and suffering of his life. he thought he would love you forever. but right now chuuya wished he could forget. forget the life you two almost had. the wedding you almost had. the kids you almost raised. the life that was so close he could graze it with his fingertips right before the rug was pulled out from underneath him. it was either he had it all with you, or didn’t know you at all. not the in between. not the purgatory. not the almost.

“i’ll love you for the rest of my life.” he hears you say in the tone of voice he adored.

he wasn’t sure what he would do if that life ended too short. no, not when you were supposed to be forever.

he would rather tear down the world than lose you. he’d tear the roots of the world into pieces, collapse buildings upon buildings and set everything in his sight ablaze. he’d burn down everything, everyone and anything that dared his grief. and in the end he’d cause massive waves to erupt from the ocean floors, washing over all who inhabits the planet, making sure no one would return from the seas unbiased fate.

i’d do it. he bargains in his mind, pleading to anyone out there who may hear his call. he was never the faithful type, but seeing you barely hold onto your life made him desperate. maybe arahabaki would hear him, maybe the universe would. i’d do it for her. just bring her back. bring her back to me.

he held your wired hand, a knot in his chest forming feeling how cold you were. it felt like death was already trying to take you away from him, and chuuya wasn’t having it.

he wanted to speak, to call out to you. he wanted to beg you to wake up, remind you that he’s still here. remind you that you still have a life to live. a life with him.

he opened his mouth, but nothing camee out.

he wasn’t just losing you. he was losing his life.

and he felt all of it escape his eyes and roll down his cheeks.

[mywritingonlyfans]

Cherished. // Cillian Murphy X Reader! (Fluff)

prompt: it's focused on cute dialogue that i think would be typical of being with him. it's all about how he thought about adopting a puppy to keep you company while you're away. (it's like me being extra goofy tbh)

words: 2,1K.

The room bathed in sunlight, a sight that would typically annoy you on any other day, but in that moment, it served as a gentle reminder of the incredible night before. The memory of it was so good that closing the curtains was the furthest thing from your mind. Now, with him lying beside you, mouth half open against the soft pillow, his hair a charming mess against his forehead, and those tousled curls seemed to beg for your touch - you couldn't resist running your fingers through them.

Nestled in-between his arms, you snuggled closer, wanting to be a part of him, feeling as though you were immersed in the very depths of his being. The mingling of your scents brought a sense of comfort and familiarity, and you found yourself hoping not to disturb his peaceful slumber; you simply yearned to be close to him.

A shiver ran down your spine when you felt the cold material of his necklace brushing against your skin, entwining with a similar one you wore. Despite the sunny day, there was still a lingering chill in the air, almost enticing you to stay wrapped up beside Cillian.

Your fingers traced down his torso, gently pressing against each naked part that was visible to you, until your touch reached the hem of his underwear. The softness of his morning skin left an impression on you, and you tried to memorize the sensation.

His body radiated warmth against yours, making you wish that every day could be like this - no worries about the months he'd be away filming, just the joy of basking in his presence on a lazy morning. You noticed a small trail of drool on his pillow, and as you gazed at him, his long eyelashes were resting softly on his under eyes, and he had a faint hint of redness on his nose, you couldn't help but feel a rush of affection. His whole face seemed to beckon for a kiss, and you leaned in to place a tender one on his cheek, knowing he'd feel your love even in his sleep.

Tracing your fingers across his cheekbone, gently moving down to his nose, you counted each little brown mark that adorned his skin, trying to etch the sight of him into your mind before he boarded the plane and flew away from you once again.

The days leading up to his departure were always bittersweet, filled with an intensity that left both of you yearning to spend every precious moment together. You knew that the upcoming days would test your longing for each other to the extreme, and while you cherished the closeness, the impending separation weighed heavily on your heart. It felt selfish to want him to stay, but you couldn't help but wish for more time together.

Shaking those thoughts away, you considered leaning in to kiss him, but his face looked so peaceful, and his breathing was so gentle that you decided against it. Wrapping the sheet around your naked body, you rose from the bed, only to feel Cillian's arms pull you back to his side. You chuckled, realizing he had been awake this whole time.

"Keep starin' at me, little pea. It's creepy, but a bit cute too, y'know," his voice was raspy and deep, the accent mixed with sleep making it all the more endearing.

"I wasn't staring, I was admiring; there's nothing creepy 'bout it," you said playfully, laying your face on his chest, relishing the comforting vibrations of his laughter. "Not my fault you're a cute sleeper."

He grinned, his fingers gently playing with your hair as he replied, "Well, I'll take that as a compliment then, my little admirer." His lips pressed against your forehead in a tender kiss, and you felt your heart flutter. It was moments like this that made the impending distance even harder to bear, but for now, you were content to savor the warmth of his embrace and the love that enveloped you both.

Cillian was the shy type, and when he was with you, it could get even worse. Yet, you were one of the few people who had the power to make him blush, and you adored watching his cheeks turn pink while his lovely eyes briefly drifted from yours; just like they did right now.

As you adjusted the sheet to cover your breasts, which had fallen during your previous actions, he buried his face in your hair. "No need to hide it from me, we both know I've seen them several times," he teased, his voice filled with affection.

"No, Cill," you mumbled between laughter, hiding your face in his neck.

"I'm dead serious, I love 'em," he squeezed you, pulling you closer and placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder.

"Cill, stop," you playfully protested.

"Alright, only because you look like you're about to explode, my embarrassed thing," he replied with a soft chuckle.

"How sweet," you mumbled, feeling sleep starting to take over you once again in the comfort of him.

"Cill, babe?" he purred, his voice full of fondness. "Can we get up? Have some tea, maybe go for a walk or do something fun?"

With his eyes still closed, he didn't move, but he pressed your body tighter into his. "Why? Here's just nice, I get to snuggle you and everything," he murmured contentedly.

He kept a sweet smile on his face, and as you were dying at the sight of him, he opened his eyes, making you realize you hadn't answered him yet. "It's just that the days seem to be longer when we're doing something other than being in bed," you explained, feeling a little shy yourself.

He understood that, nodding in agreement and holding your hand as a sign that he was willing to get up. "Okay, breakfast then, lil' one," he said affectionately, a playful sparkle in his eyes. He would certainly do anything for you.

….

Cillian appeared restless in the kitchen, more so than usual. From minute to minute, he checked the time, even though he made sure to pay attention to his surroundings.

"Babe?" he turned to you, looking like a lost puppy. He had just set the table. "Here, try this," you said, offering him a spoonful of scrambled eggs, supporting your hand below to avoid any spills.

He tasted it, nodding in approval. "It's good," he said, pulling the spoon out of your hand and giving you a sweet kiss.

You smiled and sat at the table while he fetched the tea kettle. He filled both cups, which were already filled with fresh chamomile tea. As you thought he would finally sit down in front of you - where his chair was - he pulled it out and placed it next to yours. It was a simple gesture, yet enough to make you feel a tingling mess inside. With legs rubbing and shoulders colliding, he positioned the two dishes side by side, allowing you both to start eating.

Occasionally, he would rest his head on your shoulder, rubbing his hair against your cheek. You would pause from eating to kiss the top of his head, eliciting a lovely sigh from him. There were no words to describe how much you loved these cozy moments at home with him, memories you would cherish in the days to come.

"I'm full," you said breathlessly. This time, you leaned your face on his shoulder for him to kiss.

You never ate much in the morning. "It's alright, you can finish your tea, though," he murmured. You nodded, appreciating his thoughtfulness. He would eat whatever you had left, as he always did, and you would savor your drink together, enjoying each other's company in the comfort of your home.

Cillian seemed uneasy still. Clearly worried about the passing time, yet you didn’t think much of it. He wore a mischievous smile on his face. Until a sound irritated you by taking you out of the good trance of the moment. "The bell," he announced, taking another sip from his cup.

"Okay," you replied reluctantly, not wanting to leave his side. "I'll be right back."

As you opened the door, you were greeted by a friendly girl holding a big box. She pointed to your house, confirming if it was indeed yours. Perplexed, you confirmed, and she handed you the light blue pack with a few small holes. On the side, it was written in beautiful handwriting, 'to Cillian and you.' Before you could turn the box around to inspect it further, the girl stopped you, urging you to be careful. Thanking her, you watched her leave with a cheerful goodbye, leaving that slightly moving thing in your hands.

"Cillian?!"

He came over, a big smile on his pink lips, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "C'mon, open it, or do you want me to cover your eyes and ask you to guess what it is?"

Your face mirrored his enthusiasm, and you sat on the floor, him following suit. "I’m sure you'll love him, it's the cutest!" he exclaimed, growing even more thrilled as he helped you remove the lid from the box.

You were already excited, but he seemed even more eager. His hopeful eyes studied your reaction, as if there was a slight chance you wouldn't like it.

"Oh, Cill," you sighed. Inside the box was a puppy with light cream-colored fur and dark eyes like blueberries. It wore a golden collar with a pendant similar to yours. "I love him." You took the little furball into your arms, and it playfully tried to bite the string of your necklace. You gently removed the pup's mouth from the necklace with Cillian's help, and you couldn't help but laugh at the adorable attempt. "I loved the leash idea too, thanks love."

He beamed, his eyes glowing with delight. "I ordered a similar one for him from the same store," he said, pointing to the necklace he was wearing, identical to yours and his. "It's like we're a little family, isn't it? We've always talked about wanting the family to grow."

You placed the puppy beside you, leaning over to give Cillian a quick kiss. "So, it's like a first step then?" you asked softly, not wanting to overstep any boundaries, though you've had similar conversations countless times before, during long car rides or just before falling asleep.

"Yep, if that's okay with you," he confirmed as the puppy tried to jump onto his lap. You couldn't blame the little one; you felt like doing the same. Your smile couldn't have been bigger.

"That's more than okay with me," you hugged him, including the puppy in the embrace. "God, I'm more than okay with it," you confessed, feeling a rush of electrifying happiness that left you feeling elated. He didn't look any different; the elation was evident in his eyes too.

Cillian giggled, showering your face with multiple kisses until you both ended up on the floor, with the puppy joining in, barking joyfully. He placed the little furball on his belly, patting its head.

"You'll take care of her while I'm away, right, little one?" Cillian asked the puppy, holding its snout toward him.

The puppy seemed to purr, as if saying 'yes,' and Cillian wrinkled his nose at the sight. He looked at you, signaling to see if you had noticed, and you smiled brightly, nodding to confirm.

Biting your bottom lip, you found the entire scene the cutest thing in the world, and the name for the puppy came to your mind. "Mind if I name him?"

"Nah, of course not. What do you have in mind, lil’ one?"

You couldn't help but contain a laugh. "Cill."

"What?" His voice pitched higher in amusement. "No way," he laughed, knowing there was no other name for the puppy but his own.

You held the tiny pup, turning it to face Cillian. "See, that's little Cill."

"Just like lil' one?" You nodded, remembering the silly nickname he had given you since you first met. Though he wasn't that tall, he had the perfect height for you to snuggle into his chest and feel his calming breath, gradually making you feel at ease. Once you mentioned this to him, he never let it slip his mind.

"Yes, exactly," you hugged the furry bundle against your chest. "That's little Cill for now on." He was happy with your happiness, and he could feel the warmth spreading in his chest.

As you got up, with the little one still in your arms, in a gentle reminder that you wouldn't let go so easily and your focus was entirely devoted to the tiny one, Cillian felt his cheeks flush with a smile, knowing that he would soon feel jealous of your new bond.

[diejager]

First of all HEYYY I love ur work smmmm I read almost every. single. day. So I have anemia (iron deficiency) and I'm always super cold and pale. Like my body barely produces any heat. Sometimes I don't even realise how cold I actually am like I just look in the mirror and realise my lips are blue and I look like a zombie. So I was wondering if u could do like a Ghost x cold reader like with the blue lips and nails and everything ykkkk?? And to be sum like they end up having to stay in a safe house together cause they're snowed in and the radios don't work or wtvvvvv and the heats brokennnn OMGGG and there's only one bed😭😭😭😭🤌🤌 I would love that sm tbh and again LUV UR WORK

Cw: fluff, humour?, anemia, snowed in, mention of hypothermia, cold, one bed trope, tell me if I missed any.

You hated the cold as much as you hated snow despite how lovely you remembered it was, to feel the soft and cool flakes fall on your face and staring off into the landscape. You couldn’t help feeling some sort of aversion towards the cold when your condition made you nearly vacant of any heat, extremities turning blue or purple if you didn’t regulate your own tempature. But the thing you hated the most, was being stuck and snowed in a safe house without any communication from Laswell and a broken heater. 

At the very least, you had company, sent off to Siberia with Ghost by your side, a man that burned higher than anyone you’d ever met. Perhaps he was the best option out of everyone, someone you got along with and enjoyed his jokes. That left you shivering under many layers of warm blankets, a bundle on the single bed that the safe house had. Oddly enough, it had enough food to feed a team of ten powerful and hungry men for an extended amount of time, space for many to roam around, but it had one single bed in the whole facility. 

Not that it minded you, you were as close to him as you were with the other men, a gentle friendship that often led to idiotic decisions and humourless jokes (more so on his side than yours). You watched him move around the room, securing the windows before he did the same to the rest of the house, checking the locks and insuring that both of you would be safe for the night; and when he was sure everything was secure enough, he climbed into bed, slipping under your pile of blankets. Ghost held you against his chest, an arm under his head and the other around your waist, keeping you close to him to share his heat with you, to relieve you of your shaking and shuddering, and breath coming out in frozen vapour.

“Tell me a joke, Ghost,” you quipped, wanting to take your mind off the numbing cold and your low iron count.

“What does a doctor ask a snowman?” He started after a few seconds of thinking, a lightness in his tone.

“What?” You raised your brows, burying your face into your blanket burrito and squirming until he got tired of it and tightened his hold on you.

“And you say you’ve been erect for 4 hours?” He ended with a low chuckle, laughing at his own joke. He was shamelessly proud of it, apparently.

You blinked owlishly, lips pursed as you mumbled lowly, huffing through your nose with a quick sigh, worming around to stare at Ghost. Even with the mask on, you could see the softened expression through his eyes, his darkened eyes gleaming with mirth and innocent joy.

“That was bad,” you pouted, narrowing your eyes a him.

“Oh? But you laughed,” he grumbled.

“Because it was bad.”

“Yeah, now shut up and sleep.”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami

[nanawritesit]

Trent Lane Boyfriend Headcanons! (SFW + NSFW under the cut)

(i just finished daria and have major Trent brain rot… but there’s like no content for him so i guess i have to write it myself :p)

SFW:

He writes songs about you all the time (they don’t always make sense but you still appreciate them)

Probably shows his love through physical touch or acts of service because he’s too broke to buy you gifts or take you anywhere nice 💀

He always has an arm around your shoulder, a hand on your waist, or is at least linking pinkies with you. If you’re next to him, he’s touching you in some way

And if you ever need help with chores or a project, he offers to do it for you or help you finish it (which is saying a lot because he’s usually lazy af)

Always gives you his jacket when it’s cold without you even having to ask him :)

Loves to lay his head on your chest and fall asleep after late night gigs… you struggle to roll him off of you in the morning because he sleeps like a log 😭

Calls you his “muse” occasionally

But he mostly calls you a cuter version of your name (like how he calls Jane “Janey,”) or just a simple “Babe” or “Hon”

Most of your dates are at the bars Mystik Spiral is playing at

You’ll hang out there for a while and get pizza afterwards, then probably smoke 🍃 in the tank

He asks your opinion on song lyrics, and you’ll help him brainstorm rhymes

The man is nocturnal so you have a ton of late night phone calls

You’re basically his sugar mama because again, he’s broke and unemployed

You have to reassure him that it doesn’t bother you all the time, in fact he’s *almost* considered getting a job just for you because he loves you that much 💞

(you can call him a deadbeat all you want. i would have no problem supporting my sweet baby girl 😤)

He also gets insecure sometimes that you’ll leave him for someone more educated or successful… you’ll have to explain to him that you don’t care about that stuff and that you love him regardless of it

His idea of a perfect day is just laying in bed with you all day long… he’s big on cuddles, either laying his head on your chest or nuzzling up into your neck :)

Although he also enjoys spooning you, or having you lay on his chest while he runs his fingers through your hair (He’s the best cuddler ever, try to change my mind)

Also loves going to the music store with you, and any other shops you enjoy going to

If you like piercings, you’ll go on piercing dates together :)

If you’re nervous, he’ll hold your hand and talk you through it 💞

Keeping him company while he gets his tattoos

He likes to see what you buy for yourself so he can save up his money to buy you something nice for your birthday or anniversary 🥺

LOVES when you sleep in his t shirts ❤️ He thinks you look so hot

He doesn’t strike me as someone who has a specific type, he just likes whoever he gives with. You could be alternative like him or have the total opposite aesthetic, he just likes you for who you are 🥰

Desperately trying to get him to take care of himself by getting a better sleep schedule and maybe eating a piece of fruit every now and again 💀

Watching Sick Sad World with Jane and Daria

The two of them look up to you because you’re one of the few people they think are cool, they mostly ask you for advice on relationships, school, and resolving their disputes

Jane asking you to help her dye her hair after Daria ruined it 😀

You always encourage her and compliment her paintings, she sees you as a really cool older sister (except not actually because all of her relatives besides Trent are insane)

You try to help them out around the house with cooking and cleaning and buying groceries since their parents are never home

The other guys in the band tease him so hard because he talks about you constantly and always gets so happy when you call :)

Jesse was actually the one who set you guys up, and it makes him so happy to see you together

He keeps a picture of you on the dashboard of the tank just to make him smile whenever he sees it 💞

NSFW: (18+/ MDNI)

Lazy morning sex (even though it’s at like 4 pm) because it’s the best way to wake him up ;)

Having sex in the tank right before a show because he’s convinced he plays better after he fucks you

He’s a switch for sure, mostly because he doesn’t always have the energy to be on top

Really likes long make out sessions where you’re straddling his lap and he can run his hands all along your body

Looooves watching you ride him

But he also enjoys pinning you down and dominating you 👀

The cold metal of his rings against your skin drives you wild, especially when he’s fingering you

Will give you hickeys in the most obvious places because he thinks they look hot

Conversely, he loves it when you leave scratches down his back like you’re marking him as your territory

Listen, this man knows how to EAT 😤 (you’re probably the most nutritious thing he eats tbh)

He loves overstimulating you by making you cum on his tongue and then fucking you immediately after

But he also loves it when you return the favor… he can’t think of any better sight than you on your knees going down on him 😭

He knows that his voice turns you on and uses it against you to turn you on in public (which leads to the two of you running out to the tank for a quickie)

He’s really good at talking you through it 😫

Not super loud during sex, but he does grunt and swear a lot

And when he gets close to finishing he starts letting out some airy moans, mostly saying your name over and over

He’s not *super* freaky but he certainly knows how to show you a good time ;)

[dulceslilacwine]

black beauty

dallas winston x reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: none! just some angst i guess?

authors note: this is sort of based on lana del rey's song black beauty :) i think i'll be basing a lot of my oneshots off of songs until i can conjure up some more plots! also, i know the grammar isn't perfect let me live!!! btw I'm not sure if I'll write a part two to this or not

years had passed since you last saw dallas, it hurt more than anything keeping away from him, but you knew you couldn't do anything about it. memories of the last night you had spent with him haunted you, kept you awake at night, and sometimes brought you to tears to the point where all you could do was lay in bed, staring at the wall wondering if you could've done anything to keep your relationship.

eventually, you learned to live with it. you didn't cry every night, you could sleep a few more hours than before, the pain was still there but you learned to numb it as much as you could. you decided to turn your heartbreak into something else, something that people would listen to, that he would possibly hear.

your friends all thought you were talented, that out of all the greasers you had something going, you would get out of tulsa and live freely, without a worry in the world. many told you to go to open mic nights, sign up for talent shows, sing in the church, anything or anywhere that someone other than just your friends would be able to listen to your voice, but you always refused. you had thought about wanting to sing but quickly snapped out of those thoughts as it would be near impossible to make it big, especially considering where you were from. the only person who ever got you to attend an open mic night was dallas, at a random bar in town.

the two of you were in your room, an elvis record played in the background while you talked, it was getting late and you were starting to get bored after being inside all day, dallas just arrived a few minutes after you decided to call it a night. he suggested going to a bar, and you agreed, wanting to spend some more time with him and he drove to the bar which had a notice on the door saying "open mic night, come sing!"

the two of you talked, and he drank a beer while you sipped on a daiquiri, not with much enjoyment but as the night went on, you and dallas judged the singers, people watched and enjoyed each other's company, and you began to like the drink. when you were on your second one, dallas suggested you go and sing a song. you said no about five times, telling him you were nervous.

"come on, doll, i've heard you sing before, you've got a pretty voice," he told you, he had heard you sing before, but that wasn't the reason behind the nervousness, you had never sung in front of a crowd of people you didn't know, the thought of them not liking how you sounded frightened you. another person went up to sing, you had just finished your second daiquiri, and once again, dallas suggested you sing.

you gave in because of the liquid courage, you put your name on the list with the song you wanted to sing, stupid cupid by connie francis. it seemed fitting as it was the beginning of february and everyone had been singing songs relating to love, whether it be about a broken heart or a love confession, you decided to be on theme.

you had your moment, up on the makeshift stage, some people sang along quietly, and you earned some claps and whistles, satisfied with yourself you went back to where dallas was sitting.

"told you, the people liked your singin','' he told you, his arm wrapping around your waist before giving you a kiss on the cheek.

that night had been just a little over two years. the night you remember the most out of all was the last night you spent together.

for two weeks before that, you had felt him getting distant. you tried not to worry so much over it, you two had been together for almost a year and you constantly heard people talking about how sometimes in long relationships there will be times one person can be distant, there isn't a spark like there was before, one or the other could get bored but it was all a matter of staying together and working through these times. you thought it was just that, so you didn't pay any mind to it.

he came over to talk to you, that was what he said when he called to check if you were home. when you opened your door and saw his face, you noticed he didn't smile at you like he usually did. with no kiss from him, he walked in and you two sat in your living room.

"I think it's the best for us to end things, doll." you saw in his face how he noticed your eyes were starting to tear up. "why, dal?'' you asked with a shaky voice, hoping you wouldn't cry in front of him. "it's for the better of us," he told you, he had an expression you couldn't read, he looked so calm but at the same time bored.

all you could do was nod, walk him to the door, and whisper an "I love you," before closing the door. the days after seemed like a blur, you couldn't sleep, you couldn't eat, and you didn't want to do anything, not read, write, listen to music, or get out of bed.

but that was months ago and today, you were going to meet with a journalist for an interview that would be going in the newspapers. you were excited, after all, you couldn't believe how far you had gotten in only a few months after the release of your first record.

"so, tell us about the song people have been most interested in, black beauty, what is it about?" the man asked. i took a moment to think about how to word everything because that was the first song i wrote and it meant a lot to me. "it's mostly about myself but a partner i had a few years back inspired it. things didn't end in the best way, i was left with a lot of questions and it left me in a horrible state for a few months, i forgot how beautiful life was because i let the sadness consume me. eventually, i started to live normally, well as best as one could after such a big heartbreak," i joked, trying to not sound too serious. "i wrote it after looking back on everything and thinking 'wow I was really in a bad place' and once again turning that into even more of a realization of me being able to enjoy life once again.”

౨ৎ

"you won't believe who's on the paper!" ponyboy told johnny, walking into the living room of his house and taking a seat next to his friend.

"who?" johnny asked, taking a peek at the newspaper pony was holding. he smiled upon seeing the black-and-white picture of the girl the gang had spent so much time around before.

the pair read the newspaper, making comments here and there on the answers to the questions. when they had finished reading the last column about the song black beauty they turned to look at each other seemingly connecting some dots in their heads. "do you think she wrote it about dally?" ponyboy asked and before johnny could answer they heard the door open, revealing dallas who was smoking a cigarette.

they turned quiet, dally took notice and saw the newspaper in ponyboys hand. "anything good?" he asked, taking a seat on the couch. "see for yourself," ponyboy answered, handing him the newspaper.

dallas raised an eyebrow at him as he grabbed the paper and read it. he thought it was gonna be some boring story, but his eyes widened as he read your name and about your song.

he regretted leaving you, it was always a constant thought in his head even after two years. the guilt of it ate at him every day, especially when he heard the gang talking about how you hadn’t been doing well after the break-up, they avoided saying your name or mentioning how you were doing, but sometimes when dally would leave for a moment they took it as a chance to talk about you.

it hurt him to know he was the cause of your pain but he knew it would be for the better. he thought you deserved better, somebody who could give you more.

ponyboy and johnny watched him as he read the paper trying to grasp what was going through his mind.

“I’m glad she’s doin’ good.” dallas said, handing the paper back to pony.

“do you think it’s about you?” ponyboy asked. dally looked at him for a moment before replying. “maybe,” he said with a shrug. he knew it was about him, he knew how you wrote poems when something affected you, he thought only this time you chose to make something bigger out of the pain.

although you got where you wanted to be, there was always something missing. you thought of him every day, what he was doing, how he was feeling, if he even remembered you. in every letter you wrote to one of the guys from the gang, you asked about dallas, they all wrote back with seemingly the same response. he was alright, still causing trouble where he could and whatnot.

a few weeks after that interview, johnny received a letter from you. you updated him on the things going on in your life, you asked how he was doing, and what the gang was up to but most importantly you asked him to tell dally you said hello.

johnny kept the letter folded up in the pocket of his jean jacket, waiting for a chance to show it to dallas. the gang decided to go to the drive-in that night, johnny went over to the curtis household to show ponyboy the letter. sodapop was there when johnny got to the house and the boys read the letter.

"are you gonna tell him she said hi?" soda asked, taking a bite of his sandwich. "well she asked me to, so i have to." the boy replied. he nodded and ponyboy chimed in. "do you think he'll take it well?" "possibly, there's no hiding the fact he still cares for her. you saw his face when he read that paper about her." "i think he'll be happy, i know dally likes showing off as tough but you could tell he really loved her. do you remember his face whenever he brought her up? i still don't get why he decided to leave her." the boys agreed with soda and left the conversation at that.

"hey, i got a letter today that you might wanna read." johnny told dally nervously, taking the letter out of his pocket and unfolding it before handing it to him. dally was confused, but he took the letter from johnny and began reading it. he immediately recognized your handwriting and he was even more confused as to why johnny was making him read the letter that was clearly not for dallas, for a moment he thought johnny was taunting him. it wasn't until he got to the last few lines that he realized why johnny had him read it.

he handed the letter back without saying a word and was quiet during the whole movie, the gang quickly noticed but didn't mention it, because they knew why. at the end, when they were walking out, dallas turned to johnny.

"you think you could give me her address so i can write to her?"