#was all i wanted and i couldnt be happier

[imwetforyourmom]

GHOST OF A MEMORY.

CW: Swearing, mention of death, based off that one ep of greys anatomy - izzie and denny, very very sick chris, like hella sick chris—basically in need of a heart sick (because denny needed one)

SUMMARY: Even love cant stop ones fate.

A/N: The way my ass had to take BREAKS writing ts cause I kept crying

A/N: POOKIE GOT FIRST READDD @curi0usm0nkeyy

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“You’ll always be my favorite.”

The love filling inside their bodies didnt stop the fate Chris would see soon, even the tangling, desperate movements of one another, the pure need underlying the quick, rushed movements to be one with eachother, to be together. Intertwined.

The love that surfaced from the crevices deep inside Chris’ body everytime he saw the girl of his dreams, you. He couldn’t picture a life without you, he couldn’t picture saying goodbye to the kids when dropping them at school if they werent yours, he couldnt picture growing old and wrinkly, the love mingling your bodies keeping your minds young for as long as you kept on with the beautiful, undying love for one another, without you. He didnt want to live a life, if you werent his. He’d rather suffer through the physical pain being on the hospital bed brought him, than ever to live a life where you dont give him forehead kisses everyday, where he wont feel the love radiating off your body.

Despite the emotional and physical pain it brought Chris to lie on the same, light blue, scratchy hospital bed, Chris would never choose to be healthy, to be able to ride a bicycle, to be able to breathe the fresh air through his lungs, if it meant you werent going to be there for him, side by side with him. Riding the bicycle with him, your laughter filling your ears as you biked down the empty street, riding into the sunset as you do so. He wanted to hold your hand while inhaling the fresh, dew smelling oxygen through his lungs, his head turned to look at your side profile, instead looking at you, rather than the beautiful nature he’d been deprived of seeing for months, years. Because you’re the only thing that could bring him the true joy of being him again. The accomplishing, true nature, of you.

His body began to crumple slowly again, after building up again, slowly mending the shattered pieces together like a child at hard work, spending hours at the same chalky tan desk, super gluing his fallen apart wooden airplane together, after playing with it too much. Until, in the palm of his own tiny fingers, it snaps, falling back to its returned form. Broken, and maybe never be able to fix again. He shed his tears, yet kept the fixing up, his mind destined with not giving up. Chris felt like that child— but not more than you did. You watched as his skin began filling with more color everyday, the bags of his eyes slowly turning lighter to match the rest of the peachy shade of his skin, his voice beginning to lose the usually rasp. Until, it all snapped.

He lost all of his progress, his body failed, couldn’t accept the fact he was healing, too attached to being sick to heal. His lungs returned to the short, quick breathing, his hands lost their heat and calm, returning back to freezing and shaky, his eyes never dimmed the same light they always had, even if the bulbs keeping his body up and running began to dim. The light switch struggling to turn on. He never once failed to look at you differently, to change to the same heartfelt look on his face, the soft, growing weak smile doing its best to cover the pain and exhaustion he felt inside. He didnt want you to go through it with him. You deserved better.

You didnt deserve to feel the ache growing inside his body with him, you deserved the excitement radiating off ‘the one’, filling inside your own body, Chris couldn’t give that to you. He regretted his entire relationship with you, but couldn’t be happier with you.

You deserved to be able to go onto hikes, travel across the world, or go on a simple, late night drive to mcdonalds, Chris’ rap music humming softly in the background. You didnt deserve to just sit beside his sick body, in a blaring white hospital room, the chlorine smell lingering in the air. It wasnt good for your body, to just sit beside him, reminiscing in the memories of when he was happy and healthy, when you could do anything together. “Side by side.” He’d say, but how you wish he could say it again, under different circumstances.

On one certain afternoon, the sky a bright blue, birds chirping, lifeful green grass and people all outside, bright smiles on their faces, everything was okay. At least, to others it was. Yet, for you, you couldn’t dare bring yourself to mirror their emotions, an ugly grin on your face sounded like a sin.

You hurt too much. It wasn’t even hurt. You didnt know what the fuck it was. Your eyes were dry with unshed tears—however that worked—your heart thrummed weakly against your ribs (reminding you of Chris), each thump a reminder of the shaky breathing Chris took that morning. Or, in other words, his last, short breaths.

Fuck. His last breaths.

He wasnt here anymore. He was gone.

You were never gonna hear his voice again, the same gentle rasp to it, the same gentle reminder that you were gonna be okay, as long as you were with him. But he’s not here anymore. He never will be. Now what were you without him?

You were never going to have the familiar feeling of a blanket on your shoulders with even the feeling of his presence. Even when you weren’t speaking, he still held your everything in the palm of his hand. You were never going to feel the same safety around a person that you felt with Chris. He was never going to be able to provide you with the comforting grasp of being safe with him, even in the space of your own home, protected of dangers.

And what hurt most, was the warm smile you could never see live, in person, ever again. It was torn from you, ripped away. Apart of you, maybe even all of you, going with it. You couldnt see his grin for you anymore, the pure flashed teeth churning your stomach with comfort and content, needing nothing more in that moment, than staying with him. Even when it was a weak and broken chapped lipped smile, it still fluttered your heart with joy and and a feeling you couldn’t place your finger onto, but the feeling you so badly wanted to grasp onto and never let go.

Your hands clenched into fists against the warm, fake wooden bench. Your back leant against the back of the bench in a poor attempt to relax, yet the stiffened form of your entire body didn’t weaken. It only served as a purpose that sitting outside, trying to bathe in the light, soak in the warmth, wasn’t what you should be doing right now. You should be sobbing, your shoulders shaking heavily with each loud wail falling from your frowned lips, your hands clenched at your sides. You were supposed to be mourning, crying your heart out, not trying to enjoy the outside, trying to bring your mind off of him.

Your body felt sick to the brim. Your throat hurt with the sobs you were holding back, attempting to avoid causing a scene out in public. Your vision blurred with the pooling tears. You hated feeling this way, your stomach nauseous, your head hurting like hell, and your body sick with the need to talk to Chris. To curl into his side, drinking in his body heat, stealing it greedily.

Maybe it was the lingering words that worsened the way you felt, the words he exhaustedly rasped out, his arms a comforting assure around you. Maybe, just maybe you took that moment for granted. At least a part of you did, it all happened too fast. One point you were trying to hear over your own deafening sobs, trying to hear his desperate confessions of love, the love he’d always give you. And the love he wanted you to go and give someone else.

His lips placed above your ear, his words muffle against your hair, breathing in you for one last time. The weakened smile adorning his lips broke your heart even more, he gave you one last effort to be him. To assure you, he was okay. He was going to be okay. Or, the smile etching his features climbed onto your shoulders, pillowing behind your neck, the rest falling behind your back and front. Warming you for what he physically couldnt do.

Or, perchance, his last attempt to give you him, was the echoes of his murmurs. The echoes of the war he’d had with his body, fighting to live, for you.

“You’ll always be my favorite.” Was all that stuck with you, all that you could comprehend, gather from the overwhelming moment. Too caught up with the fact you’d never get to experience him again, to even try, to even beg on your knees to listen to his last efforts.

1,503 words.

TAGS.

@luverboychris @chrissturniolosfavoritesexdoll @meg-sturniolo @junnniiieee07 @ssilentzom @b2cute @graysturns @wh0resstuff @sturn-bugz @sunsetsturniolos @strniolo @sturnssmuts @simply-a-simper @stunza @meerkatzthings @joemamaaa42069 @sturniluvr @cindylcuwho @wurlibydominicfike @watercolorskyy @aaliyahsturniolo1 @alyrasturnz @colorthecosmos444 @sturnobsessedwh0re @jetaimevous @nicksgirlfriend @4kv4mp

@lovesturni0l0s @maryx2xx @mattsmad @dollyspsychoxo @riasturns

@starsturni @britishamerican11 @mattspinkshirt

@chrissturniolosworld @ariqolyx

@mels22lunchbox

@elas3

[mbavisgay]

still havent recovered from young royals s3, its been a week since e6 came out and its still consuming my every thought.

[druidonity2]

Sketch of Anduin's trauma.

[crystalpallette]

the fact that rafisol is weak to ally's puppy eyes is crucial information. sega please port puzzle pop so I can have this information forever thanks

[prescienceofdawn]

.

[imabiscuitinthousandworlds]

my dad recently made the mistake of quoting roy's last words to me and had to endure my ten minute obsession-fuelled dissection of the ending and that scene in particular and all the symbolism. and i have come to the conclusion that i need to rewatch bladerunner NOW. ASAP. or i might actually start biting furniture

[theapocalypseisuponus]

probably going to purge tumblr for a few weeks to see how it goes to try and help with dissociation. i’ll probably still pop on a little tho. part of a bigger social media exercise im doing. Sigh. Goodbye beloved tumblr mutuals see u October 20 when I will be physically incapable of not becoming a cattails wildwood blogger.

[pendragora]

I’m so proud of you for starting a new job!! How exciting! Hope you enjoy it!!

THANK YOU MUCH MY PRECIOUS MWAH

I am actually enjoying it very much!! I have a flexible schedule and my co-workers are so nice!!! I also enjoy working with teenagers, they seem to be very eager to learn, which is quite a plus for me

It was worth so many years of studying to finally have something nice in terms of every day life 😫 i would not have survived another abusive and toxic environment

[spartalabouche]

i think the way that people act about addicts who abuse prescription drugs is already nasty and unnecessary but it drives me a little bit crazy when especially with stimulants like adderall and shit people really want to be like well people who actually NEED adderall dont feel good when they take it they just feel normal :/ and its like. i dunno. feeling normal feels good to me. does that not feel good to you? where is really the line between this drug makes me feel good because its correcting something in my brain vs this drug makes me feel good because im taking it recreationally? does the line even matter?? why should i care if someone else is taking the same medication as me for different reasons as long as people who Need it still have access? people who take stimulants to party arent the reason its hard for you to get prescribed and get a refill its because doctors and pharmacies want to control it so hard based on their judgement of who is and isnt a drug addict and whether or not that means they dont deserve medicine. and why is that judgement based on whether or not you actively want to take that medicine

[oneofthosecrazygirls-mp3]

starting 2023 off well

(I kinda ended up venting a little in the tags so dont read those unless you wanna read abt a dhitty relationship I got out of)

[yamikawas]

Yoomtah is coming to cuddle you and keep you safe and warm and happy and also to KILL ANYONE WHO EVER TRIES TO COME BETWEEN THE TWO OF YOU <3333

EHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEEEEEEEEEEE I LOVE HERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRHRRBFHSNHDDJFJJDJDJDKFJDJDJSJCJFHDNXH<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<<3<3<3<33<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<<3<3<2>3<3<3<3<3<SHE IS SO CUTE IM GOING TO EXPLODE I LOVE HER SO MUCH

[grugruel]

Let the Light in

Pairing: priest!Bucky x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: On the day of your wedding, you excpect to love your husband, not fall for the priest.

You'd never been a believer. But when your marrige spiraled into darkness, you had to find light elsewere. So you asked the Lord for help, and He answered.

Ironically enough, He gave you a most devout follower, the priest.

Word count: ca 4k

Warnings: fluff, angst, blasphemy, soft!priest!bucky, pinv sex, oral sex (f receiving), passionate sex, fingering, thigh-riding, adultry, praise (m receiving), priest kink.

AN: its been proof read! I dont understand how yall read it before the fact, my misspellings were crazy. I also edited it a bit, gave yall about 200-300 words more.

I stod silently on the sidewalk, with my back to the road. Numbly observing the scene in front of me as I waited. Cars were rushing past behind me, slowing as they noticed the crowd.

The chilly autumn winds blew my coat off of my stocking clad legs, revealing them to the elements. I couldnt be bothered to care.

The cold did not affect me anymore, I was strung out on feeling.

I watched my husband struggle, and the guests scramble to help him. They got him on his feet, and his best man slung an arm around him to keep him from falling again. My eyes brimmed with tears, ready to fall any second now.

I felt a hand touch the small of my back in silent support. A palm pressed firmly into the arch below, fingertips curling, rouching the fabric of my dress. I closed my eyes and all my troubles were wisked away for but a second, until I heard the guests approach and the hand left me. I opened my eyes to a grim sight.

We met in college, my husband and I. He'd been lovely and attentive when we first met, he made me fall in love with him. He proposed to me on our graduation, and i'd never been happier.

Unfortunately though, it didnt last that long.

As we were fresh out of school, both with stellar scores and brand new degrees. We got our dream jobs, and bought ourselves our dream home.

Everything was perfect, until he got fired. Why? He wouldnt tell me, he left me in the dark, refusing to tell me himself.

Naturally, I grew suspicious.

So I called his former boss, who told me that they'd caught him with his secretary bent over his desk. They said he'd gotten a reputation within his business and would be experiencing difficulties in finding a new job for himself. My crying increased gradually through out the call, this was the first time hed let me down after all. His boss was very apologetic and so was my fiancé.

He found me sat on the floor with phone in hand, a complete mess of tears and running mascara. Immedietly showing worry, 'Whats going on, whats happened?' He asked, thinking somebody died. But when I glared at him, repaying his silence with my own, he understood. He stuttered an apology, his words a flurry of explanations and sorrys, sounding truly regretful.

So I forgave him, silly me.

With time, bitterness manifested within him. Resentment over the fact that I was well liked and did good work at my own job. It led him down a pityfull path, finding solace in alcohol, resentment turning into lousey drunkeness. I should've left him, but chose to forgive him. I loved him, despite all.

Eventually he found a new job, nowehere near the prestige of his old one. But it calmed his drinking.

When he sobered slightly, he apologized continously. Telling me he promised to get better and told me he wanted to have our ceremony, because I deserved it. Foolishly, I belived him. He stayed sober several weeks before the wedding, and I thought it could be a new start.

But here we are now.

I stood behind the doors of the nave, inhaling and exhaling big shaky breaths, trying to gather strength for what I was about to throw myself into.

The priest, father Barnes. The one who would be marrying us, came to me before I walked down the aisle.

'Miss.' He began, his eyes pleading as he took my hands into his, 'Its now my place, I know. But your betrothed-'

'Youre right, its not.' I cut him off, the idea of discussing my fiancés indiscretions with the priest was not appealing. 'I apologize father.' I sighed and met his eyes, 'Hes drunk isnt he?'

The priest tilted his head to the side, realising I was already well aquainted with the vice, 'Well, yes. . .' He said, sounding apologetic.

I nodded my head, deep in thought, 'Alright, lets not waste anymore time then.'

'You're still going ahead with the wedding?' He asked me, an incredulous expression shaping his face.

I looked down, studying the intricate details of my wedding dress. Id picked it myself, my favourite flowers covered it. That man of mine doesnt know my favourite in anything, nor would he notice them on my dress.

A melancholic smile covered my lips, 'You must think me foolish father.' I whispered under my breath, chuckling quietly.

He shook his head and moved one of his hands to my chin, tilting my face to meet his. The other grabbed my hands, and squeezed them, 'I think youre strong.' He told me, a reassuring smile on his lips.

'He promised me he would get better.' My voice was meak, a tear streaking my face.

'You're a good woman.' He breathed, letting go of my hands to cup my face. He leveled his head with mine, his tall stature forcing him to hunch as his eyes locked with mine, 'Too, good.' He whispered, 'And, Its not my business, thats true. . .' Another tear fell, and he gently stroked it away with his thumb, 'But he does not deserve your kindness.'

My cheeks burned hot, a blush crept up my face. I had not heard such kind words in a long time. I could not controll my crying any longer, unstoppable tears came rolling down my cheeks, 'I have to believe him, father, I have to try.' I told him quietly, hating how desperate my voice sounded.

'I love him.'

He cringed at the words, furrowing his brows 'I admire your devotion.' He said gently, 'Do you want more time? Im sure we can wait a little longer.' He tried, but I shook my head.

'No, I dont want to keep the guests waiting.' I took a deep breath, 'Do I look ok?' I asked him.

He nodded, but pulled the cuff over his hand and dabbed my cheeks dry.

His eyes flickered over my face, studying my features, my wet eyes and rosy cheeks. He leaned in, kissed my cheek and whispered 'Angelic.' His hands fell to my bare shoulders and gave them a reassuring squeeze.

He turned around and as he was about the leave I grabbed hold of his wrist, carefully tugging him back. He faced me and I let go of him realising that perhaps it wasnt appropriate of me. 'I just-' I began, but my voice broke. He met my eyes and pulled me into his embrace, 'Thank you, father.' I whispered against his chest.

He rested his head on your shoulder and rubbed your back gently, holding onto the fabric of your dress, rubbing it between his fingers. Studying the beautiful pattern. He slid his hands up your arms, feeling a sudden urge to kiss the bare skin beneath him. He pulled back hastily, clearing his throat as he silently rebuked himself.

'I must take my place dear.' He said, stroking a piece of hair behind my ear. He gave me a last smile, then left, taking his place by the altar.

I heard the music starting and the muffled sound of the crowd standing up. I sighed, steadied my breathing, and opened the doors to the nave. Everyone turned around, looking at me. Whispers rumbled through the crowd as I began walking, their stares were making me nervous.

Through the gloom of the church, light shone through the windows at the altar. I looked at him for comfort, handsome as he was, I met his eyes and found it within them.

He could not tear his eyes from you, you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, courageous and proud, you walked down the aisle. When your eyes met his, he smiled proudly. Hoping you would find some comfort in it, and you found it.

As I approached the altar, I tore my eyes from his and looked at my fiancé. His best man holding him upright, otherwise slumping over. He smiled sloppily at me, I gave him a strained smile back.

The ceremony was over quickly, my husband stumbled through his vows and his kiss tasted of smoke and whiskey. In fact, the entirety of him was drenched in the odor.

I smiled and thanked everyone as they congratulted us, and carefully, tiptoed around the subject of my husband.

I hurried to change into my reception dress, it was all black. Black coat, dress, heels and stockings. Fitting, I thought. As this felt more like a funeral than a wedding, burrying the woman I once was.

People were drinking, laughing and dancing. The reception was doing a wonderful job of keeping everyone cheery, everyone except me. I sat silently by our table, watching my husband as he kept drinking and his men trying to calm him down. He had barely spoken a word to me, he was to drunk to stand, to drunk to have our first dance. I felt myself sinking into oblivion as my polite smiles and thank yous were running out.

But someone approched me, snapping me out of the darkness. I looked up, and the light returned.

He reached his hand out to me, 'May I have this dance?' He asked, his white collar stark against his black shirt.

'You may.' I smiled, the first genuine smile I'd given anyone since the night begun.

I laid my hand in his and he led me to the edge of the dance floor, somewhere we could be at peace. In our dark colors we went unseen, tucked away from prying eyes.

I snaked my arms around his neck and his arms circled my waist, pulling me tightly against him. A bit unorthodox perhaps. But I didnt mind and neither did he, it seemed. I leaned my head against him as we swayed to the music, basking in eachothers prescence.

He sensed that you werent interested in talking, but rather needed a shoulder to lean on. Someone to hold you up, as your ungrateful husband couldnt even do that for himself.

For several songs, we just held eachother. Until the evening began winding down and we had to depart.

'I think this was a mistake.' He whispered.

'Which part?' I asked, and he sighed.

'Dont hesitate to come to me if you need anyhting.' He said quietly, 'Please.' he pleaded. I nodded, thinking id never take him up on his offer.

Now, I stood on the street. Still feeling the priests hand on my back although he'd already taken a few secure steps back.

I watched as my husband being carried to our car, as we were headed for our honeymoon. Two weeks in rome, I wish I could truthfully say I was excited. They shoved him into the back, and once again congratulated us with cheapish smiles. I walked around the car and opened the door, about to sit down when a hand slid into mine. I looked up and my eyes met his beautiful blues once again. He assisted me into the car, lending me his strong arm for support as I sat down. His hand slid out of mine, and a note was left in my palm, reflexicely I closed my hand around it. 'Anything.' He whispered and backed away, closing the door gently.

Our car drove off as the guests were waving us of, but all I could think about was the priest disappearing in the distance.

I opened the note, written down was his number and adress along with a few intricately drawn flowers.

I smiled to myself, quickly stashing it away in my pocket, afraid my husband would see. But as I looked at him, I realised. He was dead asleep, snoring even.

I opened my hand, tracing my fingertips along my palm. Trying to recreate the feeling of his hand in mine, his gentle, yet firm touch on my skin. I sighed, feeling my tears returning.

I cried silently, afraid to wake him. The driver looked at me through his rearview mirror, I met his eyes and quickly averted my gaze, crying even harder, but I couldnt even do that in peace. God, what had I done. I leaned my head against the seat, closing my eyes. When suddenly, I felt fingers on my knee. I shut my eyes harder, begging for it to be my imagination. But it wasnt.

'My, beautiful wife.' He drawled, tracing a finger along my jaw as his hand slid up my thigh. He sat forward, leaning towrd the drivers compartment and shut the hatch.

I opened my eyes and faced him, 'Aw, crying of joy sweetheart?' He asked, he was so delusional it was scary. I nodded, and feigned a smile which he returned lazily, then leaned in to kissed me.

I closed my eyes again, canceling out the taste and smell of liqour, shutting my ears to his voice.

And when his finger reached under my dress, It no longer felt like him. My husbands face was no longer my husbands, his voice and touch was someone elses.

All of a sudden my core was aching for more.

His kisses on my skin felt like heaven, his touch like fire and when he pulled me on top of him. I opened my eyes, and was met with blue, black and white.

Weeks went by and my thoughts never left father Barnes, whenever my husband made love to me, I made love to a priest.

Eventually his drinking subdued and he started taking care of himself, but grew more distant by the day.

It did actually make my existence bareable.

But there came a day, when I got home from work early and things were not as they should. The were heels in the doorway and clothes strewn on the floor. As I followed their trail, I found my husband and his secretary at the end of them. Naked, sweaty and monaing, in our bed, in our home. I was quiet, lost for words, but they mustve noticed my presence.

Because they stopped and threw the sheets over themselves, covering up. 'Sweetheart, its not what it seems.' He managed, struggling to clme up with an excuse. God, the stumache on that man. I felt like screaming, like cursing him and his entire bloodline. But he wasnt worth it.

I turned on my heel and he scrambled out of bed, dragging the sheet with him as he followed me out of the house, apologizing prefusely.

I shut him out, rage filling me as I got in my car and drove away. I drove to the only adress that came to mind.

I walked up to his house and knocked on the door, a few moments passed and he opened.

With wide eyes he looked at me, unable to hide his surpise. 'I uhm, I-' I stammered, my own surpise catching up to me. I hadnt had time to think this through, I acted on pure instinct. 'He cheated on me.' I got the words out, finally taking a breath as I finally understood their meaning. Misery overtook my rage, and my eyes welled as I tried to explain myself. 'I apologize for barging in on you father.' I started, 'Ive been thinking about you and I-' rambling, all my thoughts and feelings poured out of me. In the doorway of this poor mans home.

He reached out to me and pulled me into a hug, backing away from the door and let it fall shut behind me. He rested his head on top of mine as one of his hands held my head against his chest, stroking my hair. The warmth of his home embracing me.

'Can I confess something father?' I asked him as I laid my arms around him, much like our dance a few weeks ago.

'Anything.' He answered, kissing the top of my head.

'Ive sinned.'

He pulled back with a confused look on his face, but didnt let go. 'Lets hear it.' He ordered patiently.

'Ive. . . Been thinking of another man.' I whispered, looking deep into his eyes. 'During actions that should only take place between husband and wife.' I told him quietly, and his face grew pale. 'Ive had an emotional affair with this man, unbeknownst to him.' My breathing turned heavy, as my gaze switched to his lips, 'But, me and this man. Were both bound by vows you see.' I said and let go of him, understanding my words as I said them, and stepped back. Suddenly regretting coming here, as I felt rejection was imminent. 'Mine are already broken, but his are not and he cannot break them. He would not.'

'You should let the man speak for himself.' He said, serious in tone. His gaze locked in on me, as he stepped closer. 'I havent been able to stop thinking about you, no matter how hard I've tried.' He whispered, laying his hands on my hips. 'Ive never seen a woman so beautiful walking down the aisle, god himself mustve blessed you.' I snaked my hands around his shoulders, burrying them in his hair. 'Im hoping he would bless us, too.' Leaning in, his lips were a ghost over mine. 'I would care for you, in a way your husband never could. He does not deserve you.' He leaned his forehead agagaist mine, 'I'd work everyday to deserve your love, your kindness, your presence.' He said quietly against my lips, planting a gentle kiss on them and pulling back slightly to give me room. But I chased his lips, returning the kiss feverishly. Grabbing a fistful of his hair as I pulled him impossibly closer. His hands roamed my back, reaching under my shirt to undo my bra. It fell to the floor and he pulled my shirt over my head in one quick motion, making me gasp.

I removed the collar of his shirt with my teeth and ripped his black shirt open, burrying my head in the crook of his neck, 'Youre not a beginner, are you father? I asked, between kisses. Breathing heavily as I latched onto his skin, sucking at the sweet spot between his neck and collarbone.

He moaned, a smirk shaping his lips, 'Saints also sin from time to time.' he breathed, his hands falling to my ass and lifted me into his arms. I chuckled, letting go of his neck and circled my legs around his hips. I pushed my bare breasts against him and he burried his face in them, in turns taking them into his mouth. 'Where?' His voice came muffled by my skin.

'Everywhere.' I answered.

I could feel his grin against my skin, as he nipped my nipple with his teeth, making me yelp. He walked us toward his bedroom, and laid me down on his bed. He stood back, studying me as he took his shirt and pants off. I unbuttoned my own pants and shimmied out of them, raising myself onto my elbows, watching him as he took me in. His eyes roamed my body, thighs, hips, stumache, breasts. He loved all of me, 'Youre perfect.' He said, lust in his eyes as he climbed on top of me. 'I need you.' He whispered.

'You'll have me.' I told him and flipped him over. Positioning him against the headboard as I stradled his thigh, grinning wickedly and leaned forward, kissing his jaw. 'But first-' I whispered against his ear, 'I want to test your self control.' He looked confused, and I began grinding my clit against his thigh, a whimper escaping me. His hands flew to my hips to help me along, but I grabbed them and led them up to the headboard. I leveled my face with his, ghosting my lips over his as I had him hold onto the board, 'No touching.' I whispered and pecked his lips. I leaned back and my grinding resumed, I grabbed his thighs for support as the heat from the friction was making me swoon. I leaned my head back, biting my lip from the pleasure and when I looked back at him, he was holding onto the board for dear life. The muscles in his arms and jaw clenching as he fought himself to stay still, his eyes were running up and down my body.

The way your hips swayed and breasts bounced, it was sucking all the restraint out of him. His hands were itching to touch you, to just feel your skin under his fingertips for a moment. It would keep him fed for the rest of his life.

I hummed, 'Im- im gonna-' I stammered, my breaths frenzied as I was closing in on my orgasm. The crazy in his eyes made me smile devilishly, I felt evil, in the best way. My hips stuttered against his thigh, my ruts becoming faster and shorter as I was approaching my release. When I looked at him, his eyes were pleading, begging for permission, but it was to late. I rushed over the edge in a second, collapsing onto him, panting hard as I was catching my breath.

'May I?' He asked, his voice strained.

I kissed his chest and answered, 'Yes, please. You did so good.' He grunted at the praise, surprising me. He grabbed my ribs and threw me under him, hurridly kissing his way down my body until he reached my thighs. Spreading them, he kissed his way up the inside until he reached my panties. Without a second thought he ripped them apart and burried his face in my cunt. Tasting me, licking my juices, sliding his tongue through my folds and kissing my clit. A string of curses fell from my lips, as he pushed a finger inside of me, carefully sliding it in and out. Then adding another, and eventually a third, he thrusted them into me, my moaning telling him he was on the right track. He curled them into my spot and I nearly screamed.

'Just like that, good job.' I breathed and he moaned against my clit. What fun. He reached into his boxers and stroked himself, the sight made me mad. And for the second time, I came tumbling over the edge. He was not far behind, coming into his own hand, drenching himself in his seed. I grabbed his arm and pulled his hand closer to me, licking a stripe of his hand. He grunted at the sight, spurring me on as I took his fingers into my mouth. Sucking him clean as he watched, furrowing his brows, he became plagued by lust.

I pulled him closer to me, meeting his lips in another kiss as he pulled off his boxers. I reached down, stroking him as I lined him up with my entrance, 'You did such a good job, father.' His head perked at the praise, like a puppy being told hes a good boy. Gratefully pecking my face, cheek, chin and jaw, below my ear and neck. He put his weight on me, we couldnt possibly get any closer to one another. 'I need you in me father.' I told him bluntly, and leveled his head with mine, sliding inside. Kissing me mean while and I moaned into his mouth, sharing my breath with him. I laid my hands on his hips, telling him to move by pulling and pushing. Helping him set a gentle but firm pace, he lowered his head to the crook of my neck, his breath hot against my skin. 'Let me hear you father, dont hold back.' I whispered and appreciatively he grunted against my skin, moaning in my ear. It was fiendish, it was fantastic. 'Deeper, please.' I asked, pulling on his hips to drive him deeper and using the weight of his entire body he thrusted into me, in rythm with his grunts as our bodiess moved together.

'Tell me im good, please.' He begged, nuzzling his face into my neck.

I smiled, 'Youre being so good for me father.' I whispered into his hair.

'Thank you.' He whimpered, putting even more force to his thrusts as he traced my collarbone with kisses, all the way to my shoulder, repeating "Thank you." Over and over again inbetween his kisses. His thrusts were coming faster as he was closing in on his orgasm, driving me over the edge with him. 'I- im- im close.' He stuttered faintly.

'So am I, almost there father.' His pace hastened as his hand slithered between our bodies, finding my clit and circled it. 'God' I moaned, spots specking my vision as the priests thrusts became frenzied. He pinched my skin in warning, reminding me not to take the lords name in vain. Then we came together, and he collapsed on top of me.

'Im sorry for swearing, father. You bring it out of me.' I whispered.

He chuckled, 'Youre forgiven.' Throughout the night, we made love on the couch, the floor, the kitchen table and shower.

Eventually, we got back into bed. Holding eachother tightly as we drifted off to sleep.

When I woke up late the next day, there was a vase of flowers on the bedside table with a note under it, the letter "-B" was written on it.

I unfolded it and he had written me a message, "I had to go to church, but didnt want to wake you. I hope on seeing you later, please stay if you want to. Id love to come home to you. -PS, Your favourites."

I smiled happily and smelled the bouqet of tulips, a soft, warm feeling spreading throughout my body.

For a long time love had felt dark to me, it had felt cold and lonely, but now. . .

I had let the light in, he was my light.

[imwetforyourmom]

fic based off numb to the feeling chase Atlantic?!

numb to the feeling

summary: matt hasnt been feeling many things lately. feeling numb. he desperately wants to feel something.. anything.

warnings: numbness feeling mentioned (?), marijuana, smut, dick riding, rough sex, switch!matt, creampie, unprotected sex (dont be silly, get on the pill)

a/n: IM BACK FROM MY BREAKKK

(if you dont like how I’ve written it or want it in a different way do not hesitate to ask me to re write it!!)

not proofread

~

matt hasnt felt like himself in days—weeks. he hasnt felt anything, happiness, anger, or even anxiety.

hes felt numb. and god does he hate it. he wants to feel something, he needs to feel something. so, hes turned to drugs, weed. but nothing further than that, sure he wants to feel something but he doesnt want to go too far. I mean, who would?

even when his girlfriend comes over with an overbearing grin on her face he cant find it in himself to match her energy. he cant find the him in himself to bring a smile to his lips, to bring the sounds of pure laughter from his body.

so here he finds himself, sitting outside on his porch, smoking a blunt. he sits deep in the chair, his back leant far into it, his legs manspread and his fingers spread with a j between his pointer and middle.

the strong scent lingers in the air, the sweet yet so musky smell so familiar to matt, its like a comforting thing. like a blanket on his shoulders, warming him in a cold storm. where its the only thing he can go to, after finding himself alone and in crave of something, anything.

the weed makes him feel things, it comforts him. its the only thing that can make him feel things, hes found it and deemed it his safe space. or his go-to.

he brings the blunt to his lips, inhaling the drug, letting it pass through his throat and into his lungs, holding it there before slowly exhaling it out his nose. then pulling the blunt from between his lips. the inhale of the blunt already coursing through his veins, and was he in for it. the effects of the weed were slow and sure to make their mark soon.. just not now. as this had only been the first ten or so minutes of his session.

he rests his forearm on the arm of the chair, leaning his head back and closing his eyes momentarily. letting everything sink in. the tingling sensation of the weed overtaking his senses, the cold, refreshing breath of air going through his nose becoming all that he could physically feel, the bitterness of the cold air fanning against his skin, the warmth of the blunt between his fingers reminding him this is all real, that he isnt dreaming of this phenomenal feeling, a feeling he could feel.

he opens his eyes once again, letting the blurriness of his eyes adjusting to the newfound light disappear as he takes in his surrounding. the trees lightly swaying along with the wind. the sky a white-ish grey, as if it was questioning what it wanted to be, alone. there were no clouds and no sun present. it was a blank white-ish grey. no color to it. just a plain white with a slight darker tone to it.

he brought his hand close to his mouth again, placing the blunt between his pink lips, freshly coated with a thin layer of saliva, before taking in another long, drawn out inhale. the drug filling his lungs and exploring his system, inviting itself in and affecting all that it could, sending matt into a delusion. he moved his hand away and rested it on the arm rest again.

holding his breath he admired how the drug felt inside him, how the drug felt overtaking what he could differ between what was what, and what was not. how the drug was slowly becoming the only thing he could focus on, and how good it fucking felt.

the drug was giving him things he couldnt do alone, it was giving him the ability to feel things, to feel himself. and god, how addicting it was.

he couldnt fucking be happier, its all he wanted and all he desired. finally, finally feeling things, even if it wasnt much he was still in touch with his emotions, he could feel the fire in his stomach, he could feel the thumping of his heart against his ribcage.

he couldnt get enough of it, he brough the joint back up to his lips, taking a greedy, long inhale from it, then pulling it away. holding the inhale in his lungs for longer than he usually does, as if it would make the drug affect him more than it already does. he exhaled, the smoke coming from the tight ‘o’ shape in his lips and going into the air.

he pulled the joint away and rested his arm on the armrest again, finding himself enjoying his current state, the feeling being euphoric.

• • •

here matt found himself, again on his front porch, blunt in hand.

this time, it wasnt as good as it was before. of course the drugs were hitting him.. it just wasnt as euphoric or as joyful as it was before. he wasnt as happy, he wasnt as carefree. he couldnt understand why, he was smoking the same weed, he was in the same area but he wasnt feeling the same.

“fuck.” he mumbled, he placed the joint on the ash tray next to him, feeling angered he let out a huff of air. he glanced around the landscape infront of him, deciding on what he was supposed to do now. he couldnt rely on the weed and thats all he could rely on.

his hand found its way to his mouth and subconciously began chewing on his fingernails, what the fuck was he gonna do now?

he grabbed his phone and pressed his girlfriends contact, needing anything, something. and he knew he could always go to her, and without a question she’d be there for him, doesnt matter whats going on she was always there for him.

the ringing sound of his phone only reminded him of the situation his was in. numb and in desire of something he didnt know what it was.

“hi baby!” her joyful voice rang through the phone and into his ear, immediately relaxing his nerves somewhat. he let out a small sigh of relief before saying what he needed to say.

“hi, can you come over, please?” he asked, his voice evidently panicked and breathy.

“of course, whats wrong?” she replied, you could hear the rustling of movement from her side of the phone, signaling she was already on her way.

“i need you,” he spoke, getting straight to the point with his desires. he was desperate for her, for feeling her.

“okay, okay, ill be there in five, my love, hang tight for me, k?” her assuring voice relaxed matt more than she’d already done before and he couldnt be more grateful, she’d been calming him effortlessly without even knowing it.

“okay, love you bye” he hung up, setting his phone down and waiting for her, patiently. if you could even call it that. kid was chewing his fingernails and looking all around the road ahead of him, searching for signs of y/ns arrival.

• • •

the sound of rocks being run over makes matt look up, his gaze softening when he sees the silhouette of his girlfriend leaving her car, her hips swaying perfectly as she walked towards him. truth be told, he was already hard just seeing her. the tight cropped shirt she wore definitely did not help either.

she walked to his porch and stopped infront of him, the smell of weed filling her nose, proving matt was most likely high. “you said you needed me, baby? how so?” she asked, looking down at his figure propped up on the chair, looking up at her with glossed over eyes.

“need your body” he muttered, his hands coming to her hips and squeezing. his voice filled with need as he let his eyes take in how pretty she looked.

“yeah?” y/n placed her hand in his hair and lightly tugged it, running her long nails along his scalp gently, sending shivers down matts spine. he leaned his forehead onto her stomach, acting more desperate and needy than he already was.

“need you so so bad” he stood up abruptly and grabbed her by her arm, pulling her inside his house and locking the door behind them before walking up to his room.

y/n giggled as matt took a seat on the edge of his bed, then patted his thigh, inviting y/n to sit on his lap.

y/n did as he silently asked, taking a seat on his lap and almost immediately moving her hips on him in slight yet hard grinds. earning a grunt from matt and his hands finding home on her hips, pushing and pulling her on his lap more.

matts face met with y/ns, connecting their lips in a slow, open-mouthed kiss yet filled with unspoken passion.

as y/n felt matts dick grow under her she began trailing her kisses down his jaw and neck, kissing, sucking and leaving dark purple marks all over the side of his neck, only arousing him further.

matt pulled her away from his neck and stopped her hips, mumbling a quick “need to be inside you, so bad” as he pulled her shorts off and lightly moved her off his lap so he could pull his own pants and boxers down.

he pulled her back on his lap and positioned her to be hovering over his tip, letting her wetness saturate his dick before letting her sink down. in which, he did not too long after he found himself aching to be fill her full.

he pulled y/ns hips down, letting his dick slide past her velvety walls. earning a moan from both y/n and matt.

y/n ground her hips into his, moving forward and backward before bouncing up, then down repeatedly on his cock, finding her pattern.

“agh- fuck” y/n whispered, placing her hands on his shoulders to stabilize herself as she bounced up and down on him. “you got it, baby” matt encouraged, throwing his head back at the heavenly feeling of y/ns walls squeezing his dick in all the right places, she felt so fucking good and he couldnt get enough of it.

one of his hands moved from her hip to her clit, rubbing in tight, slow circles, eliciting a moan from y/n. “fuck!” she moaned, placing her head into the crook of matts neck while continuing her bouncing.

“harder,” matt groaned, desperate for the feeling. he dowsnt know what feeling, all that mattered was that he was feeling it.

his hands went to her hips, pulling her up and down faster, when he brought her down he did it incredibly fast and slightly harder, pulling a moan out of his own throat. matt bucked his hips up, meeting her hips in a pleasureful rhythm. from the suddenness of matts hips snapping into y/ns and moving her himself in powerful thrusts, she screamed a gutteral scream, the sound almost throat scraping. y/n bit her lip and matched the rhythm matt had created, each time their hips met she let out a whimper.

a tightening sensation began in y/ns stomach, as early as it was in the sex, it had been so good, too good and she knew either way matt wasnt stopping anytime soon.

“‘m close, matt- ngh-“ y/n moaned, her voice hoarse from the scream she earlier screamt. y/n continued with her bouncing, until her legs began to go weak. she began grinding on matts dick—to the best of her abilities while he still bucked up into her.

“fuck, wait for me. I know you can.” he said in return, noticing how y/n wasnt moving anymore. he took matters into his own hands and flipped them over, laying y/n on the bed, and matt standing at the edge, still plowing himself deep into her.

y/n bit her lip, surpressing a scream that was threatening to spill out. her eyes rolled back with the new angle matt had at her, her stomach tightening even more, holding off her release was already hard enough, but having to wait? hell, was she in for a treat.

“j- just a little bit longer, you’re doing so good for me, baby” matt praised, driving his hips impossibly faster into her, chasing his high. y/n clenched around him, unexpectedly sending matt over the edge, cumming inside her with a loud groan. “fuck- cum with me” matt moaned, his spurts of cum painting her walls white.

y/n came almost on instand, the knot in her stomach breaking as her cum covered matts dick, with him still plunging inside her, though his place slowing. he slowly pulled out, y/n whimpering at the feeling of no longer being full.

matt collasped on the bed next to her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into his chest, mumbling a lazy “you did amazing, sweetheart” as sleep slowly overtook him, y/n following suit.

he was so fucking thankful that the weed didnt work, cause that sex with y/n made him feel things hes never felt before.

2136 words

@mattsturnxoxo @littlebookworm803 @wh0resstuff @luverboychris @chrissturniolosfavoritesexdoll @meg-sturniolo @junnniiieee07 @mels22lunchbox @ssilentzom @dollyspsychoxo @sturnib-tch @b2cute @livvy4realll @graysturns @jnkvivi

[venusjaynie]

not him

billy hargrove x pregnant!reader

summary: you're 8 months pregnant and billy couldnt be happier. but even though he's excited for your little ball of sunshine to finally make his appearance, he's got some concerns.

warnings: neil hargrove, mentions of past abuse, mentions of child abuse, billy has abandonment issues and nightmares, some swearing, insecurity from both reader and billy hurt/comfort, lots of fluff (of course)

A/N: i think billy would be so worried about being a dad when you have your first kid. he doesn't want to end up like neil, and he doesn't want you to have to leave like his mother did :(

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When you first told Billy that the two of you are having a baby, he was freaked as fuck.

You were only 18 at the time, and he had just turned 19. The both of you always said you would wait until marriage to have children, and you didn't really have the money to support a kid at the time. Neither of you were prepared for the pregnancy happen, your being apartment cramped enough as it is with just the two of you, but as scared as you may have been, there was still an overwhelming amount of joy that took over you.

It took a couple of days for Billy to let the news sink in, and when he really thought about it, he was ecstatic. Now the excitement hasn't necessarily subsided for Billy, per say. It's just that, along with all that bubbling anticipation, he's doubting his skills of fatherhood, because he literally doesn't have any. Not yet anyway.

Billy doesn't plan to open up about his concerns, mainly because he's embarrassed, but also because you have more than enough on your plate being pregnant and all, and he doesn't want to burden you with some silly insecurities which he thinks will go away after a few weeks.

He's wrong.

They don't go away: if anything, they get worse. The closer you get to having your baby, the more worried he becomes. He's had to sleep on your couch, or not at all, because he's woken up in cold sweats after nightmares about Neil, or sometimes, he'll dream that he's the one mistreating his kid. Billy doesn't tell you, though. When he has these dreams, he wakes up, kisses your forehead gently, and tip-toes to the living room, where he sits on the couch and calms himself back down, before curling up on the soft seat and trying to get a couple more hours of sleep in before you wake up.

Billy thinks what he's doing is for the best, but what he doesn't realise is that every time you wake up in bed without Billy beside you, the rejections stings like a bee.

Pregnancy has had a real knock on your confidence, and you often worry Billy doesn't see you the way he used to. He had been more than supportive in every way, until the couch crashing started. You had been about 5 months pregnant, your bump very visible, and everything had been fine, until you went to bed. At around 4 in the morning, you had felt nauseous, and woke up to tell Billy you were going to the bathroom, but when you rolled over to face him, he wasn't there. Initially, you panicked, and you got up and left your bedroom to look for him, but as you got closer to the living room, however, you heard the TV quietly playing, and saw Billy fast asleep on the couch. You couldn't help the tears that sprung to your eyes at the sight of him being so content sleeping somewhere else instead of with you, but you just blamed that on your heightened hormone production and emotions. You didn't mention it to him the next day, thinking it was a one off occasion, but soon enough you found him on the couch 3 times a week, and then it was almost every night.

After 3 months of him sleeping on the couch from the early hours of the morning, you decide enough is enough. So you choose to confront him when he comes home from work.

At around 6, the time Billy's shift is over, you go to the kitchen and check on the dinner you've prepared. During your maternity leave you've taken to cooking and baking most days, and you're glad you have. It gives you something to do, and you've gotten pretty good at it, or so Billy says anyway.

Checking on the lasagna that's in the oven, you have to wipe your sweaty palms on your apron. You're honestly quite nervous to confront him. As much as you're ready to get to the root of the situation, you're terrified that he's going to turn around and tell you that he doesn't want this, doesn't want you, anymore.

It's 6:15 when Billy walks through the door, and he's not empty handed. He has a pink bouquet in his clutch, and you don't fail the notice how, even after all the bunches of flowers he's bought you over the years, the gesture still makes your stomach do a flip-flop.

"Hey, sweetheart." He doesn't hesitate to make his way to you and plant a big kiss on your lips, and you smile at him. It doesn't quite reach your eyes, however, and Billy notices. "You okay?" You nod in response. He eyes you wearily.

"I'm okay, babe, just tired." He doesn't believe you at all, but he doesn't push.

"These are for you. I saw them on my way this mornin' and they reminded me of you. Picked them up on the way back."

"Thank you, you're very sweet."

"Only for you." Usually a cheesy line like that would have you blushing and giggling at him, but not today. He doesn't even get so much as a breathy chuckle in return, just a half-hearted smile. And with that, he knows something is wrong. You go to turn back to the food you're preparing, but Billy stops you. "Hey, look at me." You do as he says, and he immediately notices the unshed tears in your eyes. "Baby, what's going on?" He reaches for your hand, and you don't pull away.

"Nothing, nothing. I'm alright, just hormones." You try to smile through your tears, but you think it probably comes out as more of a grimace than anything else.

"I don't believe you one bit. Tell me what's wrong, sweetheart."

"Billy, I'm really fine, just drop it." You say, snapping slightly.

He drops it.

You hand him his dinner plate and he makes his way to the table. You do the same, and Billy starts his usual retelling of his day. As much as you try to listen and engage, you're too busy thinking about what you're going to say to him, and Billy notices.

"Honey? Are you listening?" His concerned voice snaps you back into reality and you realise you haven't been paying attention.

"Sorry, Billy. Yes, I'm listening. Just zoned out for a second." He raises an eyebrow at your response.

"Okay, what's going on? Are you tired? Nauseous?"

"No, no it's not that. It's, uh, I just-" You stop yourself with a sigh, thinking it's best to pull yourself together a bit before you have this conversation. Taking a deep breath, you bite the bullet, "Why don't you sleep in our bed anymore?"

Billy looks shocked, then confused, then guilty, then a whole mix of other emotions that you're too tired to decipher.

"You noticed, huh?"

"Yeah, I noticed! Billy, you haven't slept a full night in our bed for 2 months. What the hell is wrong? Am I that repulsive to you that you can't even bare to sleep in the bed with me?" You know that's just the hormones talking, you didn't mean to say that, but you're curious anyway.

"What? No, of course not. That's not it at all." Billy's quiet when he talks, almost shameful. "Is that really what you think?" You nod. "Oh, god, honey, that's not what I think at all. You're beautiful. You've always been beautiful."

"Then why are you sleeping on the couch every damn night?"

"Baby, I-" He cuts himself off and rakes a hand through his hair, tugging a little out of stress. "C'mere, let's sit on the couch, 'kay?" He reaches for your arm, but you shy away from his touch, preparing yourself to be let down by what he has to say. Instead you walk over to your couch and Billy follows behind you like a kicked puppy.

Once settled on the couch, you don't say anything, waiting for Billy to explain his behaviour. He takes a deep breath, and stares at his hands, before speaking.

"I, uh- ever since we- Jesus Christ." His hand rakes through his hair again, and you can tell this isn't easy for him to say. Something in the back of your mind tells you that you were expecting the worst explanation, and that it isn't true, so you reach up and take his hand, linking your fingers with his and softly stroking your thumb on the back of his hand. He looks up at you, his eyes shining slightly.

"Take your time, it's alright. I'm in no rush." He sends you a small, grateful smile and does his best to blink back any tears threatening to leak from his eyes.

"You know how excited I am for our baby, right?" Billy says, and you nod your head. "Good. I'm so fuckin' stoked for us to have a kid. But for the past few months, I've been... having doubts." You're previously sympathetic looks contorts into one of confusion, and hurt. "Not those kind of doubts. Trust me, I wouldn't leave you to look after our kid all alone. I swear. I'm just seriously doubting my ability to be a dad."

"What's making you doubt yourself so much?"

"Neil." The name on Billy's tongue makes you still for a second. "I haven't been able to sleep lately because I keep having nightmares. And it's so stupid, 'cause I know he can't get me but I- God, I'm just so scared that I'm gonna turn out like him."

"You won't." Is all you say in reply.

"How do you know?" He asks quietly.

"Because I know you. I've known you since we were, what? 6?"

"5, actually."

"Exactly. Baby, I've known you forever, and I know that you're nothing like Neil. You wouldn't hurt a kid, and especially not your kid."

"But what if I get really angry and-" He cuts himself off with a hitch in his throat. "I don't wanna do something stupid, and I don't want my stupid actions to make you leave." He says the last part quietly, and it breaks your heart a little.

"Oh, Billy, is that what you're worried about? Me leaving?" He doesn't look at you, but you can tell by the way his mouth drops into a frown that he's confirming your suspicions. You can't help but wrap your arms around his neck, and he wraps his around your torso in response, gripping onto you like a vice. "I'm not gonna leave, and I'll tell you that as many times as it takes for you to believe me, alright?" Billy hugs you impossibly tighter. "And getting angry is normal. You've been angry at me before, right?" He nods into your neck. "And you've never laid a hand on me, right?" He nods firmly. "So I know you'd never hit our baby." You pull away from him slightly to look at him. His glassy eyes can't meet yours, so you press a kiss to his cheek and whisper, "I love you."

"I love you. So much." Billy's shaking hands make their way to your stomach, and he gently rubs in small circles with his thumbs. "I love you, too, kiddo." He manoeuvres his way to the floor into a crouching position and presses a soft kiss to your belly before standing back up and pulling you up with him. His arms snake around your waist and you lean into him, basking in the quiet of the moment, knowing that in a month there will be 3 of you. The thought makes your smile into Billy's chest, and you feel him kiss your temple lovingly. The guy couldn't hurt a fly, and you'll do everything you can to prove it to him, no matter how long it takes for him to believe you.

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i haven't even proof read this but here 🤗

[allukaed]

𝘽𝙄𝙍𝙏𝙃𝘿𝘼𝙔 𝙒𝙄𝙎𝙃 — 𝘼𝙄𝙕𝘼𝙒𝘼 𝙎𝙃𝙊𝙏𝘼

synopsis - it was his 30th birthday celebration, and you both intended to celebrate it only with you, him, and your precious cat.

cw - fluff, angst, loneliness

a/n - i tried to explore aizawa's character in depth, but i really have this plot in my mind. i couldnt just resist how it played in my head. but im gonna go into detail for the next part. 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢! . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

November 8.

You were to celebrate and say I love you.

In the four tight corners. Front of the glass window that reaches the ceiling down to the floor that overlooks the rest of a busy city. Bodies are set on the soft and big bean couch. With a cute black-coated bento cake in your hands, your cat Noir purring in the middle of your crossed legs. Candle lit, and the minimal words of “Hot and Thriving 30” decorated atop the frosting and all.

Gleaming a smile, you sang – a cross between passion and mechanical – a silly rendition of your little happy birthday song towards him. He was smiling warmly, and he never looked happier than in his whole life. Other than the fact that he thinks the message written on the cake is ridiculous he lets it gnaw its way through his smile.

“Sweet,” his endearing nickname always makes your cheeks flushed, “thank you.” He said after your little song.

“Blow a wish.” You airily muttered, cupping the lit candle against the sheer motion of some wind. “It’s your birthday after all.”

He glanced at you for a long time before his velvety voice echoed throughout the room, "Do I need to?" he raked a hand through Noir's fur, "I have everything I could wish for."

You felt your heartstrings tugged, earning a giggle from you. “C’mon, just make a wish!” You urged playfully, affection seeping into your nudge of his knee. “My hands are getting sore holding this cake.”

He smiled small, as he usually does. He never frowned at you, at least during the whole length of your relationship, it was all a blank slate of a face that could lead to a tiny smile or sarcasm, but he never made you feel wrong or sad with his signature grimace that was reserved for his friends or students.

“Alright.” He scoffed like a princess.

“1..2..3,” then he blew his candle.

“What did you wish for?” You probed cheekily, smearing a dark chocolate frosting on his cheek which he groaned for, swatting your hand away in the process. You put down the cake beneath you and started to cut four equal slices as it was just cutely sized. He wiped away the chocolate from his face while watching you do your ceremony.

Before buying the said birthday token, you already kept in mind that he wouldn't like it if you went out of your way to buy him any grandiose gifts, plus only the two of you were celebrating, so you settled for a bento cake instead. Although, he isn’t that much of a fan of sweets than you are.

“Won’t say or it won’t come true.” He grumbled, grabbing Noir who was trudging near the box of cake once it was alerted of the food’s presence, cradling the cat in his arms instead. He lightly tapped the cat’s head, "Bad for you." He told the cat, rubbing the pads of its paws, something the cat finds soothing.

You pouted. “Why? I should be an exception!” You insisted, rolling your eyes defiantly. “C’mooooooon, handsome! Don’t be unfair.” You dragged, bumping your head on his shoulder repeatedly.

His nose crunched, the idea of you pestering him to spill was somehow annoying but still endearing. It was just another trait of you that he has the patience to stand for, but couldn’t for others. If another person did this to him, he might strangle them with his scarf.

Still absentmindedly playing the cat, “Fine, just stop doing that.” He groaned, and your eyes twinkled elated. “Don’t say a word though.”

“Why?” You pondered.

“You find everything funny.” He deadpanned.

You were trying to stop a grin form on your face, and although you wanted to, you pursed your lips instead. “I won’t.” Your curiosity alive was barely able to hold back from your chest. You motioned a cross over your heart to symbolize a silent promise.

He took a brief look at you before he sighed, running his hands through Noir’s black fur, soft paps on its stomach. His brows furrowed slightly and his eyes darted away from you. It wasn’t like he was shy or hesitating, no, but for some reason, he was thoroughly contemplating whether he should say it out loud or rather keep it to himself. Decisiveness wavered him, he thought you deserved to know, and that his fickle musings were out of the ordinary.

His arm reached to you, locking you in a semi-embrace, the feline was surprised by the gesture and it meowed from your sudden weight, subsequently taking its leave from the man’s lap, leaving you two to your own devices.

“My only wish is,” he began, dipping his face into the top of your head and gripping your body closer to his, “for us to stay together.”

Your breath hitched, his musky notes percolating through your senses, and you found yourself dizzy from his words, his smell, his warmth, his embrace, and everything. You buried yourself further in his frame.

“No matter what happens, I will be with you, and you will be with me.” His voice was low and steady, and you hung onto the timbre of it. “I just want to be with you, for as long as possible, and I hope you do too.”

It rained.

Was it an outburst of happy tears, or was it actually drizzling outside your apartment complex? You couldn't care less, because what he was telling you was way way better than any tears of joy or rainfall. He doesn't have the luxury of being an open book, unlike you whose vulnerability always showcases, so hearing those words coming from his mouth was like a messiah preaching to his crestfallen student. It was comforting, exhilarating, a rush — but out of it all, it was love.

Gentle drizzle, like a lover’s kiss, fell upon the parched earth. Four tight corners conformed the two of you fondly. Two bodies coalesced, with you listening to every jump and thump of his heartbeat rhythmically. You clutched onto him firmly, more than ever, as if you don’t want to let go. You love him more than a story could write itself.

“Sweet,” he held your face, tilting you upward, “I’m not a man of a lot of words, but I always love you, even if you don’t hear it often.” He chuckled, emphasizing on the ‘always’. You stared at him with glossy eyes, tears forming on the edge of your lids, and you had no words to say. It was all surprising, yes, you sure were expecting something, but not an overwhelming whirlpool of emotions.

“I…” you mumbled, but your words trailed off. You couldn’t figure out the right words to say. No coherent string of words can muster up the feelings you were processing right now. “I love you too.”

He wiped the forming tears away, “Cat got your tongue?” he teased, a sly smirk tugged his lips.

Noir meowed on the floor.

“No… I..” You blushed, meekly shoving him away from you, avoiding his intense gaze. “I didn’t expect that at all… especially from you.” you protested. If a thousand shades of red were a person, it was you as of the moment.

“Really?” He arched an eyebrow, “You underestimate me, Sweet.” He grabbed your hand and lingered a few light kisses against your knuckles. His stubble unkempt, albeit it adds to his manly charm, was tickling your skin.

Your smile reached your eyes. “Maybe I do,” you giggled, “show me this side of you more often.” Your heart was still racing yet it dwindled every second that passed. With a vacant hand, you gently brushed a few black strands out of his face. He faintly leaned onto the back of your moving hand.

“I’ll try.” He held the hand he was peppering with kisses, intertwining with his. You smiled warmly, and all you could hear was his soft hums and the fireplace crackling. Casting a warm soft glow of his backlight, inviting a cozy sensation to the living room.

“Cake?” You suggested. Seeing how your cat was taking its chances to steal a bite, which you declared inedible to it a lot of times through a series of ‘no-no’ and head shakes.

“I’ll only take a bite of yours, I know that’s all yours to eat.” He shrugged, hinting at your sweet tooth.

“Rude!” You exclaimed while Noir meowed like it agreed with what he joked about. You gasped, glaring at the cat. “No treats for you.”

With a few I love yous exchanged, a lovingly tender interior, and a small tribute of a happy birthday. You celebrated your man’s thirtieth birthday.

November 8.

It was raining.

You were supposed to celebrate and say I love you.

In the wide corners. Grey filled the vast space of the apartment. Darkness enveloped the atmosphere, and you’ve realized that it was no four tight corners. The walls were continuous in many corners you haven’t counted. The whole house was massive, recognizing that it was never actually small in the first place. The duplex was quite big for a single person, and you have never felt lonelier than you ever did before.

A glass window engraved bottom to the ceiling shows that the heavens wept, their tears washing away any plans or events of the people scattered along the city. Were they happy or were they sad because of the rain? Nevertheless, you couldn't say the same sentiment applied to you. Matter of fact, it wasn’t the clouds’ fault but you have been crying along with the skies since then.

Everything felt dull. No rush, no comfort, no exhilaration, and most of all — there was no love to be found. Only you who was sat on a big bean couch that was meant for two people, emptily staring ahead the window, observing the monsoon rain unleashing its despair in the city.

Ever since he left, the welcoming warmth of your — used to be, both of your — house turned to an unbidden coldness. The air was thick and damp, clinging to your skin like a wet blanket. You hugged your knees close to your chest, restraining the shivers escaping you. It was incredibly silent in a way you can hear your staggered lament and muffled chokes, truly an epitome of discomfort. A tremendous display of consequences after all of what happened.

Your cat announced its presence, jumped up to you with its chubby legs, and let out a meow beside you, purring incessantly. You sniffled, hiccups taking turns, not even bothering to look at the feline (which it isn’t amused of, by the way).

“No happy birthdays for now, Noir.”

There was a lighter within your hand and you fiddled with its flame. This was the lighter you used to light a certain man’s birthday cake. How could you forget? There was no way you could ever forget. Your thumb pressed and pulled away from the button over and over, warm hue flickering on and on. On and off and on and off and on and off and on and off. You mindlessly played it.

Until you click on the final pressure against the button.

“Guess it didn’t come true, Shota.”

You blew the flame but you didn’t let go.

[fanaticbitchhh]

aye, gag me with a spoon will ye?

james maguire x fem!quinn!reader

warnings: fluff, mentions of blood

notes: this was so rushed but i wanted to get something out for james because we're lackin' james appreciation on this app !!

it was early in the morning, well 11 am but still early for y/n. she was packed and ready to go to portnoo with the rest of the derry girls, and james of course.

her and james have been dating a little over 6 months now, they couldnt be happier. they had awesome friends, well michelle was still a bit of a bitch towards james but he could deal, and he had the most perfect girlfriend he could ask for.

y/n headed downstairs, excited to see her boyfriend as she heard his voice from the living room. she wore relatively comfortable clothes, a pair of james' sweatpants and his hoodie did her just fine.

as she bounded towards james, she failed to notice the tent in her way and she tripped over it. she was absolutely mortified and felt blood trickling from her nose at the impact from the floor.

"oh god, y/n, are you okay?" james panicked, rushing to her side.

"aye dont worry yourself jamie, im fine. just excited to see you is all" she smiled to the worried boy infront of her.

"c'mon, lets get you cleaned up." he said, taking her hand and leading her up to the bathroom.

she reluctantly sat on the counter, waiting for james to do whatever he was to do so she could kiss him without blood going all over him. eventually, james ripped off a bit of toilet roll and shoved it under her nose to catch the blood.

they sat there for a few minutes, admiring eachother with lovesick smiles on their faces before james pulled the tissue away.

"you're alright, yeah?" james asked, kissing her forehead.

she hopped off the counter and stood by the door way.

"with you here, im always okay." she smiled, booping his nose softly.

he blushed and laughed a bit, he always got shy when she flirted with him, or did anything remotely romantic. it was foreign to him, he was so used to michelle always saying he'd never find love that when he actually did, it was hard to accept it.

he kissed her softly, smiles playing on both their faces as they did so.

"i love you jamie" she smiles as they break away.

"i love you too y/n/n, more than you know." he smiles back.

"aye, gag me with a spoon will ye?"

the two jump away from eachother.

"michelle!" they exclaim as she chuckles almost like a witch.