#he crosses that thin line between hatred and wanting to kiss him

[kuzoowl]

One-sided hatred

[cssns]

CSSNS Get to Know Me

Please welcome @iamstartraveller776 to the CSSNS!

How long have you been in the CS/OUAT fandom?

I've been lurking at the edges of the CS fandom off and on for almost 10 years.

When did you start shipping Captain Swan?

I saw the potential between them when Killian tied a bandage around Emma's hand with his teeth and told her that he's always a gentleman. But it was the kiss in Neverland during the next season that had me buying my ticket aboard the good ol' SS Captain Swan.

What drew you to this event?

I could say that it's because I love good AU's for this ship—the more fantastical, the better—but that's not the reason. I am participating because I adore the community, especially those running this event! They are the reason why I keep limping along with writing for this ship, lol.

What inspired your topic?

A few years ago, I signed up to participate in this event for the first time, but life got in the way. This is the story I was originally planning to write at that time, though it's grown to be much, much bigger than I anticipated back then!

If you would like to share a snippet/sneak peek/summary of your fic or artwork, please use the space below.

Here's a little snippet: Gothel jerked farther back, flinging up a hand as if to ward off danger. “What have you done, Pirate?” she demanded. “You’re a fool if you think he won’t discover you.” Killian curved his lips into a deadly smile. "Is that any of your business, love?" he asked in a quiet voice. "Can you do the spell or do I have to find someone else?" She narrowed her eyes, but there was fear written there as well. “What’s in it for me?” He didn’t answer immediately but reached forward, feeling for that unseen thread that bound the two of them. There. A thin strand of dark energy that he wound around his finger. He balled his hand and yanked. Gothel’s breath tore out of her lungs in a croak as she lurched toward him, skin turning ashen as lines grew like spider webs across her smooth face. “Don’t toy with me, witch,” he bit out in a growl. “I can send you to Infernum with the snap of my fingers.” He tightened his fist and her mouth fell open in a silent scream. Electric vitality pulsed into him from her, demanding to be consumed. There were more witches, weren’t there? Others who could give him what he needed. He could drain this one, add her to the souls who gave him strength, and oh, there was plenty to take from her. The babe in his arms cried out, shattering the feral want that had nearly overtaken him. He released Gothel, and the witch crumpled to the floor in a tangled heap, gasping for air. He despised that craving for power, always hungering, always thirsting for more. But the bleak price was one of many means justified by the end he sought. Gothel looked up at him from her hands and knees, hatred warring with terror in her features as color returned to her skin, the cracks vanishing. He felt no pity for her. She’d known the cost when she made her bargain with him long ago. He turned his attention to the child, rocking her gently while Gothel rose to her feet. “Fortunately for you,” he said, glancing at the witch, “I’m feeling particularly generous at the moment. As a boon for this deed, I won’t call in your debt for, shall we say, another century. I’ll even let you keep your youthful glow.” He smirked. Vanity was one of her greatest weaknesses. She’d thought once to use her beauty against him in a woeful attempt at seducing more power from him, but he hadn’t been so easily swayed. She licked her lips. “Fat lot of good your generosity will do me when he’s figured out what we’ve done.” She made no further argument, though, as she crossed the room to heave a large, careworn tome from a shelf. She set it on the table, spine cracking as she opened it. Muttering under her breath, she leafed through the yellowed pages. Killian circled her home as he waited. The clock was winding down on this bold gambit, and it was only a matter of time before he was summoned by the very creature he hoped to thwart—nay, destroy. The Dark One wanted this child, so much so that he’d put a bounty out on her, something unheard of among the Fata. As Killian studied the babe in his arms, he couldn’t begin to guess why she garnered such single-minded interest from the strongest of the Fates. The soft white aura that surrounded her was dazzling, to be sure—brighter than he’d seen of her kind—but preventing the Saints from adding to their ranks was hardly cause for this feverish hunt. Whatever the reason, it had tipped the Dark One’s hand, and Killian wasn’t going to complain about the opportunity to circumvent the demon.

For our betas: Who/what have you beta'd before, or is this your first time? Feel free to give as much info as you like.

(I can't remember if I signed up to be a beta, but if I did, here's my answer.) I've been beta reading since I joined my first fandom nearly twenty years ago. I love getting a sneak peek at a story before everyone else does! I like to follow the writer's lead on what kind of beta reading they'd like to have from me. <3

What are you looking forward to most about participating in this event?

The stories, of course! And being a little less lurk-y in the community, lol.

This sounds very intriguing. @iamstartraveller776​′s fic drops on August 12th!

[headstrongblake]

a kiss shared between enemies during combat . / lol enemies, grant & o / @thewholecrew

"i didn't..." her head shakes, eyes wide with horror at her own hands. "i didn't mean to do that..." grant has to believe her, right? fear flashes across her green eyes as she looks at him, only seeing what she perceives as alarm as another agent moves toward her with the high-tech cuffs that encase her hands. a preventative measure she'd been assured once. this is the moment she's proven herself too dangerous to be contained. it's the fork in the road where they'll decide she's not worth the headache that comes along with her inability to control herself, or perhaps worse, they decide it's better to lock her up. contain her the only way they know how. & like hell is she going to willingly let that happen.

"i don't want to hurt anyone...you don't have to do this." she said, eyeing the restraints. even if grant could believe she had meant no harm to an innocent person, she was sure he had his orders. that's the way this world works right? there's a thin line between the normal and the inhuman. mutants that have always lived among humans are now forced into the light, and most don't appreciate what they see. octavia let out a slow, calculated breath as eyes flickered between the two, weighing her options. "okay, okay," she lifted her hands defensively, "i'll go, no fuss but you have to let him do it." she promised with her own stipulation, brow lifting as she nudged toward grant.

perhaps begrudgingly, octavia watched the device exchange as grant instead moved toward her with the same high tech equipment used on all sorts of people like her. her teeth clenched unintentionally. hatred for what's done to people with abilities like hers, and for herself and what she accidentally does when her emotions run rampant growing in the pit of her stomach. instead of holding her hands out defensively, she lowered them, putting her wrists closer together to show compliance. "you believe me, right? that i don't want to hurt people." she posed the question to grant, studying him carefully. it's the one thing octavia never intended.

for some reason, it matters to her that he believes her but not more than her desire to survive. with her promise to comply, octavia doesn't flinch as the equipment is activated, just watches grant with a sad hope slipping away. once he stood close enough to her, she murmured, "i'm sorry," before hating herself a little more as she quickly leaned up into grant, capturing his lips in a kiss. there's been a handful of times when octavia's wondered what it might be like to kiss someone but doing it to weaken grant? to give her a second advantage to survive and escape...had never crossed her list.

a deep ache cracks in her chest, emotions welling in her eyes as she heard the restraints fall from his grasp with the shock of her abilities. at that exact second, she separated from him because the goal was to hinder him, never hurt him, as she quickly made a dash to rush away, leaving the other agent moving to check on grant.

[scorbleeo]

Book Review: Savage Rivals

by Becca Steele

Source: Google Images

Asher Henderson.

Captain of the Highnam Academy football team, and the bane of my existence.

As Alstone High’s team captain, I’ve been pitted against him from the beginning, but our conflict isn’t only reserved for the pitch. Everyone knows we’re enemies. From our first encounter, our rivalry has been escalating, spiralling out of control.

Until one night when everything between us changed.

He pushed me too far, and we crossed a line that should never have been crossed.

Now, I can’t get him out of my head.

Can we ever be more than rivals, or are there too many obstacles in our way?

One thing I know for sure.

Things between us will never be the same again.

Source: Goodreads (2021)

Read Like an Early 2000s Romance YA-ish Novel

The premise of Savage Rivals wasn't that bad. Rivalling main characters, haters to lovers – literally because I could actually feel that they hated each other in the beginning. Really, the only problem I had was Steele's writing style. Unfortunately, because it's the writing style I disliked, I could not quite enjoy read Savage Rivals.

This is a quick paced and extremely short book, it should not have taken me long to finish it but it did. While reading Savage Rivals, I could only think about how amateur the writing felt. I am not expecting writing like Jane Austen or Emily Henry or even Penelope Douglas. Just give me something that does not scream childish. Yet the whole time I was reading this book, I thought it was written by a child writing fan-fiction. I might not read as much as I would like to, but I was honestly shocked when I found out this was a 2021 publication yet it felt like an early 21st century publication. Or you know, a bad teen romcom movie.

Due to that, there was a severe lack of development. I understand that to some people, the line separating hate and love is very thin but I would have liked to see something other than hatred between our two main characters before their first kiss. Like I mentioned earlier on, the hatred Asher and Levi had for each other was obvious and genuine. Unfortunately, during the haters to lovers period, I could not sense anything. It was as if, one second they truly hated each other and the next second, they could not hide their adoration for each other. There was simply no development there at all to justify the boys' feelings for each other. Personally, I felt that Asher's feelings for Levi's car had a better development, you could see Asher's distaste and gradually, a love for it.

I really wanted to like Savage Rivals but upon finishing it, it sadly does not deserve anything more than 2 stars.

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

[phthart1c]

you can ignore this if you want but can I request metal head geto x fem reader?

𖤐 ──┈ · · · BANGiNG ; METALHEAD! GETOU X F! READER

𖤐 SUMMARY — 1.1k+ wc | your boyfriend wants to spend the night banging to some music while showing off his skills on the guitar with you! only to soon show off his other wicked talents...

𖤐 CW/TW — sws + modern au, established relationship, drug usage (weed), fingering, cunnilingus, oral sex (m –> f), squirting, praising, slight degrading, slight overstimulation. | MDNI 18+

the derogatory and slanging music was loud, almost thumping and ringing to the ears, yet the engulfing smoke vaporing around your bodies was soothing; each puff of smoke trailing out from his lungs and wisping through his smeared lips against the plush of your thighs made you tingle. the strong fumes adding to the hazy clouds in the dim room catch in your own throat, feeling it slide down thick and raw as you stiffly breathe in.

“wait, wait do that again, that sounded good.” you pucker out your lips as you try to swallow down that sudden churn bubbling up at your tummy, catching glimpse of getou casting through the heavy smoke between your legs; eyes dark and rich, hooded and rolled red with a dirty smear of liner beneath them, his hair even rigged and pin-straight, curtaining around his slim, pale-like face, unlike his hunching slouch, back curled forward with long and thin legs wide.

“this?” the chipped polish marked into his nails thrum against the strings of his guitar, strumming a sharp tune; it's drumming to the ears, all yet rattling to the core.

getou musters up a crude smirk, head tilting in awe as your head throws back, “like that?” he asks before sliding the cold steel of his rings up the plush of your thigh.

your bottom lip catches between your teeth, “just like that, i love it,” the lazy crane to your head drops low, eyes catching into his dawnting gaze before gently plucking the potent stick from between his lips, “you should play that more often.” you set the thick leaf between your own glossy lips, sucking in a long drag of the strong and green fumes through your lungs before puffing it out, some gusting against the soft porcelain of his face.

watching, almost entranced as you suck in the potent fumes with a deep swallow and letting it settle– letting it tingle down your throat till it hazed at your brain with an etch.

and getou raises the slick, all red guitar to set aside before reeling himself closer between your legs “yeah? but y’know what i like hearing more?” getou perks up to you with callused hands landing firm and rough against your sides, squeezing and pinching at the soft skin.

you hum in response, feet swaying softly atop the table, watching getou press further, “i love hearing you moan out my name, pretty girl.” he dips his head low, smearing a wet kiss against your thigh.

your back curls, tingles ghosting up your spine with a lick of goosebumps to follow, feeling his warm and wet muscle slide up your softest spots, traveling with a slippery trail of spit till the point of his nose nudged against the soft mesh of your skirt.

hooded eyes bat up to yours, “do you mind?”

some would mind; legs to cross tightly, back to straighten, and hands to lace tightly together, twiddling even, practically disturbed by his presence for being this close, knowing what kind of a man he was known to be; the type to wander the streets, buying or selling drugs, mugging people, cursing and blasting cruel music all as he does–not a care in the world–as if all he could hold was hatred and deep faith in the prejudice music he listened to, to guide him, yet all that washes to the back of your head, back arching into his hold, knobbly hands clipping hard around the edges of the table, and legs spreading further till your skirt frilled over, exposing the fat lining of your puffy lips pressing hard against the silky mesh of your slick panties.

getou grins, hands quickly catching the soft hem of your panties to pull down, yanking the thin fabric passed your ankles. and the cold feel of his rings sliding against your skin makes you shiver, legs to almost fall pliant.

“my pretty girl, already so wet like a dirty little slut, huh?” dazed eyes, he focuses on the sticky web of slick drooling out your cunt; wet muscle clenching and weeping with arousal, practically begging to be toyed with.

the sway of his silver jewelry hanging from his ears and to his neck glisten, catching the dim light as he delves a wet tongue between your folds, swiping up with a quick, playful flick, adding enough pressure to the bulb of your sensitive clit

you roll your waist out to press harder against him, pressing deeper with a hinged mouth gaped open as you tentatively watched him through heavy lashes adorn you.

“f-fuck getou...” your head slacks back, feeling two long knobbly-knuckled fingers teasing your entrance before budging through your gummy walls, crooking and sliding in deep till the palm of his hand pressed hard against your puffy clit; the soft brush of his palm rubbing against your bundle of nerves makes your body to curl in elation, legs to even wrack with trembles.

and the slick tightness getou feels around his fingers is more than an ample reward, even to the soft whimpers and wanton moans you let out breathlessly is more than he can ask for, more pleasure to him than you might think.. loving the loss he feels in watching you cry out above him like this, lost in being responsible for you feeling this building pleasure with just simple, yet dextrous hands and a warm tongue...

it’s intoxicating.

and it never gets old.

twisting lightly and wading you into the high you both crave for, getou feels the hard press of his jerking cock twitch against the many buckles he wears. feeling the sensitive and rosy flush tip ooze with pre and leak through the tight of his jeans, feeling pearls of pre weep out the crown of his cock till it stained the black fabric milky white.

“getou! so close– please—fuck—so close!” his droopy eyes targeted up to your panting breasts, relishing the perfect view past your tits to your pretty face; adoring the droopy and soft, dewy-like face you contort down to him with pearls of sweat clinging to your hairline as you try to hiccup for air.

so perfect.

so breathlessly perfect.

heavy breaths fume out from your nostrils, feeling your sloppy cunt flutter around his curling digits, feeling them bumping deep and hard, ushering an awaited orgasm to finally falter free, “yeah, baby cum for me, cum all over me.” his timbre voice rattled that tethered pleasure bubbling up your tummy, finally bursting with the full rise...

and with a splatter of high washing over you and a bobbing throat crying out in wicked elation, the glory of falling off the edge and floating to cloud nine wracked onto you hard.

pretty pussy leaking with pools of seem, your body twitches, aching and twitching at the cruel swipe of his thumb playing idly against your clit, “‘s too much, p-please, getou..” you blurb out, almost stumbling over your words at his cruel tease.

and it makes him almost chuckle, watching you lose all sense like that, pretty eyes knocked to the back of your head and body jerking at just the slightest wisping touch...

“y’know,” he laps up the messy drool clinging to his lips, bringing the sweet substance gathered and slicked around his fingers to the junction of his mouth, moaning at your bittersweet taste. “your moans would make such a pretty chorus...”

𖤐 © PHTHART1C 2022 / MAIN M.LIST! -> JJK M.LIST! — do not steal, plagiarize, modify, translate, or repost any of my content + do not recommend any of my content outside of tumblr! (i.e. wattpad, tiktok, etc).

[suitk0via]

A Painful Love

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader

              18 + MINORS DNI

Word Count : 3.3k

Warning : this is literally just smut. we've got knife kinks, use of restraint, hate sex?, car sex, unrequited love stuff...

Synopsis: Win a street race, lose a different kind of race. Reader has messed up her car and begrudgingly asks for Bucky's help. Of course, his help comes at a price.

        Street Racer AU | Masterlist

“God dammit.”

You threw the wrench over your shoulder listening to it clang against the concrete floor. Resting your head against the side panel of your car you sighed. This connection was as if to say, ‘ I know I’ve pushed you too hard recently, and I’m sorry. ’ You just knew if the car could talk it would most definitely scold you.

You knew you were pushing the limit, and you felt the skip in your engine go straight to your bones. Sure, you’d won the race but at what cost? The leads to your distributor got crossed making the engine skip in a painful way. You remembered physically wincing at the sound of it, but you were too caught up in the adrenaline of a win to care.

Specifically a win against Bucky.

“Careful princess, you'll push her too hard.” His words sort of haunted your mind. A deeper part of yourself wanted to blame this issue on him, like he may have sabotaged you. That was a baseless claim though. As much as you hated him he wasn’t an actual villain.

“Worry about yourself Brooklyn. She’s fine.” You had said, patting the hood of your car. Oh if you could’ve shown yourself a glimpse of the future. Grabbing your rag from your shoulder you wipe the black marks from your hands. Your patience had worn thin with this project and you knew you were going to need help. Problem is, the only person you knew that would help would be Bucky. His services came at a price though. Which usually began with you telling him how much you couldn’t stand him, and ending with your face pressed into the mattress begging him to give you some sort of release.

The relationship you had with him was odd. Odd yet satisfying. Though, Bucky had gotten a lot softer recently. Not as insatiable, rather. For some reason you hating him made him want you even more – and he wasn’t secretive about it either.

You weren’t even sure why you hated him. You just couldn’t stand the smug look he always had, and the way he looked down on you – mentally and physically. Grabbing your phone you let out a frustrated groan before dialing his number. You could already hear his condescending tone just dying to say, ‘ I told you so. ’

“Callin’ so soon? It’s only six thirty, princess.”

“Shut it, Brooklyn. Help me fix this and I’ll do whatever you want.”

He didn’t even respond before he hung up the phone. Scoffing you tossed it over on the counter. This was routine so you weren’t even disappointed in yourself. Because to be clear you hated Bucky – not the sex. The sex was always amazing. Simply because he knew you better than you gave him credit for.

He knew all the right things to say, how you liked those featherlight kisses on your neck, and anything else you could think of.

When you first met him, you never knew it would lead to this point.

You were all excited and wide eyed after a race, and he poked fun at you with everyone around. “It’s one race. You’re a rookie, princess.” Those collective snickers were enough to solidify your hatred. The only difference between him and every other asshole that had a crush on their car, was the fact that he was handsome. He carried himself like everyone owed him something and you hated it, but the lines in your hatred were becoming blurry though.

Can you truly hate someone you seek out when things go wrong?

Of course he knew about cars, but he was also a good friend. The word nearly made you sick but it was true. He was your friend in all technicality. Whenever your sad excuse of a boyfriend had broken up with you and you stopped showing up to races for a while, Bucky showed up at your door. Unprovoked, with no other intention than checking on you. Of course, it didn’t end there. You cried all over him and he didn’t even care. He never mentioned it either. It was like an unspoken agreement the two of you had.

Whenever he was having trouble sleeping for a while, you went over and stayed with him. You just stayed up late into the night running your hands through his hair and warding off any nightmares that crept up on him.

So, as much as you hated him, you’d also drop everything you were doing if he needed you.

To anyone looking in it made no sense, but it worked for the both of you. Sort of.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your front door opening. Bucky utilized that spare key more than you liked to admit. Listening to the sound of his footsteps you waited for the garage door to open, and his comments to run free. “Now, what did I say to you before we started?” He said, closing the door behind him.

Putting your hands on your face you groaned. You didn’t even have it in you to look at him and accept a form of defeat. “Just, fix it, please.” You sighed. His footsteps got closer and he stood beside you leaning over the hood. He started explaining what you had done wrong, and how you could’ve done it better. The longer he went on the more agitated you became.

Why did you need him? Why did it always get back to this point? Why did he feel the need to be so patronizing if he liked sleeping with you so much?

Idiot.

“Okay, fuck, I get it. I fucked up. Can you just get this over with?” You said standing up abruptly, chair squeaking against the floor. Bucky huffed at you and continued to do whatever he was doing. Watching him reach down and methodically fix the issue you had been slaving over for hours should’ve been overwhelmingly annoying – somehow it was just attractive. He noticed your staring and it only made his attitude worse. A smirk played on his lips as pulled his hand back, wiping the excess grease off of his fingers. Those ridiculous blue eyes stared back at you, a mischievous sheen covering them. “Princess, I’m startin’ to think you mess these things up on purpose. Just so you can ‘do whatever I want’.”

It was just the right amount of insulting to rile you up, and you knew you were taking the bait hard. “Oh yeah? Think so? Because it’s always an option for me to call Steve instead.” You knew you were playing with fire and unfortunately it was the most exciting thing ever to your expectant mind. He just smiled sitting down the rag. “Because I don’t need you. There are about twenty other guys just like you.” You said shifting your weight as if you weren’t nervous. He didn’t have to say anything, you just watched as he approached you. With purpose in his stride he reached you grabbing you by your wrists and yanking you towards him. Your attitude faded for a moment once you collided with his chest. The hold he had on you was painful in the best way.

“I’d love to see you call Steve.” His voice was low and there was a threat behind his words. A threat you couldn’t quite make out, but it was there. The fluorescent lighting above hummed, filling the void of silence between the two of you. You went to say something but quickly decided on keeping your mouth shut when you saw him pulling his belt off.

“I don’t know why you like running that pretty mouth so much. It’s not polite for a lady to talk to a man like that.”

“Fuck you.” You sneered trying to pull your arm away from him. In a swift motion he put your hands behind your back, pulling your wrists together with his belt. At this point you were just asking for whatever was coming your way, but you just couldn’t let him have the last word.

“Watch your fucking mouth.”

You nearly whimpered hearing him say it so close to your ear. That bit of submission was quickly halted whenever you heard him opening the door to the backseat of your car. “What the fuck? Bucky, no fucking way. I told you, not in my car!” You tried getting away from him but it was futile. Shoving you into the car your back pressed against the leather seats harshly. Whining in frustration you watched as he pulled his shirt over his head tossing it over his shoulder. “James. I’m not kidding!” You said, kicking your feet in a frustrated manner.

Your only condition was that you wouldn’t do anything with him in your car. It just seemed like common sense. Your car was the one thing he hadn’t completely desecrated, but it seemed like you weren’t going to win the battle this time. “I’ve had you everywhere but here. Seems like a fair trade for fixing your problem and listening to you bitch for a while.” He smiled, pulling something out of his pocket. Your eyes immediately went wide, already being able to recognize the familiar object. He caught the worried expression on your face and laughed before climbing on top of you.

“What? Now you wanna be quiet?” He mocked. Watching as he pulled his knife out of its little kevlar sheath you instinctively squeezed your thighs together. There were one too many memories of that blade being dragged across your skin just light enough to leave a red trail. Maybe it was the danger of it that had such an effect on you. Your actions didn’t go unnoticed either. He maneuvered himself between your legs, your hips slightly raised up by his spread knees.

“Bucky, please, not in m-”

“How is that fair to me, princess? You’ve made a mess all over my car before.”

Clearly this was all playing into his amusement because he was just grinning like the Cheshire cat. As much as you wanted to fight, you weren’t sure you could handle the consequences. To your dismay he reached up, shoving the knife through your shirt. Hearing the fabric rip made you wince. This had to be the third shirt he’d cut off of you.

The sharp point lightly trailed against your skin – from between your breasts down to your navel, effectively ripping it in half. Goosebumps raised on your skin and you internally chastised yourself for the involuntary reaction.

Of course, Bucky got a kick out of it. Simply because he liked knowing that no matter how much you hated him, you couldn’t get enough of him. Cutting the sides of your sleeves he pulled the shirt off completely. His eyes hungrily roamed the expanse of your bare skin. Running his hand over your sides he subconsciously licked his lips. The look on your face was lovely. One he thought about too often. A sort of anticipation on your face that you worked so hard to hide.

“Can you let my fuckin’ hands go?” You asked, writhing beneath him. He laughed moving his hands down to your jeans unbuttoning them slower than he wanted to. “No. If you want some dipshit to come over, pretend like he knows how to help you, and treat you nice – then you shoulda called Steve.” He said pulling your pants off a little harder than he meant to.

It rubbed him the wrong way that you said that – about calling Steve. Bucky was unbelievably jealous of you, and everyone knew it but you. You just kept turning your nose up and gave him little smartass comments. Meanwhile he would threaten the life of any man that dared to look in your direction. The relationship was confusing. He’d lay down everything for you, and you’d still say you hated him.

Leaning down he kissed you sweetly. A little too sweet considering moments ago you were yelling at him. He got caught up in you a lot. The way you’d kiss him back just as passionately and how sweet you tasted. Knife still in his hand he trailed it against your skin and down to your core. Running the blade over your panties enjoying the way your breath caught in your throat and you shivered.

“I thought I was fucked up.” He mumbled against your lips, looking down between the both of you. “Shut up.” You said, trying to conceal a breathy moan. Laughing a little he pulled back seeing the wet spot that had formed on the thin fabric. Hooking his fingers beneath the fabric he pulled them off watching your face.

He liked whenever your little act dropped, and he wished he could keep you that way. As opposed to you pretending you hated him. Dropping the knife on the floorboard he ran his hands down your thighs. “You’re so pretty...I almost don’t want to ruin you.” He said with a sigh. Before you could say anything he took his finger dragging it through your obscenely wet folds. He took a lot of pride in the fact he could work you up so easily. A whine passed through your lips as he pulled back looking at the glistening evidence of your arousal. The sight alone made his cock twitch in excitement.

The lead up to being able to sink into your warm cunt was almost tempting enough to make him fuck you right then. “I love the way you hate me, princess.” He sighed, putting the finger in his mouth. Sucking your juices off the digit he laughed. Enamoured by how sweet you tasted on his tongue. Moving downwards he strategically placed kisses on either side of your hips. “Bucky, please.” You whined, bucking your hips against him.

Pushing down on your hips he gave you a rather stern look. Leaning down he licked a thin stripe from your entrance to your clit. Moaning at the taste he ignored your desperate pleas. That taste was something he dreamed of, and when he had it on his tongue he became greedy. Taking you in like he had found the fountain of youth.

He wasn’t a wateful person.

Well, he didn’t want to get anything on your seats.

Not even looking over he grabbed the knife from the floor, holding it by the blade. “Oh my fucking god.” You whined trying to keep your legs from shaking. Pulling back he slapped his hand against your ass making you yelp. “Watch your fucking mouth.” He said through his teeth, running the handle of his knife against your slit. The cool metal was an intense contrast from your warmth and the way you flinched made him smile. Once you recognized the feeling you looked at him with a fire in your eyes.

“Don’t you dare.”

It was like an open invitation. He slowly pushed the handle into you, watching you try and move away from him. “Bucky, oh my god. It’s cold.” You whined. Again he leaned down sucking on your clit viciously. Slowly thrusting the handle in and out of you he held onto the blade a little too hard, feeling blood trickle down his palm.

“You’re so fucking awful.” You moaned, wriggling in his grasp. A little irritated he pushed it into you hard listening to you gasp at the feeling. Just to go harder he sat up pushing the hilt in and out of you at a harsh pace. He could see you losing control and he just went harder. Wet sounds and delicate moans filled the small space. He could tell you were close by the way your eyebrows knitted together and you held your breath.

Pulling it out of you he dropped it to the floor again. You cried out begging for some sort of friction between your legs. Taking his bloodied palm he wrapped his hand around your neck making your whines come to a halt. “Watch how you speak to me.” He warned. You nodded hesitantly and he let go. After a moment of admiring the bloody handprint he left behind, he grabbed the knife examining the remnants of you on the handle. Making sure you were looking he licked your essence off the hilt of it. Eyes rolling back at the taste of you.

As sweet as you were, he was mad at you for implying you’d call someone else over him. Sitting the knife down between your breasts he moved over so he could pull his pants off.

“Please, Bucky-”

“Shut up.” He hissed, wrapping his hand around his cock. This build up was a little too much for him and he was overly sensitive. Slapping his tip against your hole you jerked against him. “God damn. For someone who hates me so much you’re fuckin’ wet for me.” He said running himself back and forth through your folds.

“Please just fuck me already.” You groaned impatiently. He had half the mind to just leave you there. Hands behind your back begging for him to come back and help you. He would’ve if it wasn’t a move away from being inside you.

“I’m goin’ to.” He said pushing himself into you without any hesitation. You adjusted to him easily, and he moaned at the warm snug feeling of your fluttering walls. “Princess, you might hate me…but this pussy says otherwise.” He said grabbing onto your hips thrusting into you. You didn’t have the strength to reply, just a whining mess beneath him. Watching your breasts move with each drive he smiled wickedly.

Your entire being was just an ethereal vision to him. Something he could only imagine that had walked straight out of his dreams. “Bucky m’sorry-'' You breathed. Leaning down he kissed you fervently trying to hold himself together for a bit longer. He wasn’t sure why you had said that, but he didn’t care either. Just pounding into your wet cunt he felt himself losing control. That silky feeling was too overwhelming for him.

“I like you like this, you know?” He said pushing his hand against your lower stomach. The added pressure always made you squirm. You looked back at him and nodded. Your wide eyes made him push you harder. He could feel himself hitting that spongy spot inside of you making your legs twitch against his sides. “You get so tight when you’re close.” He moaned, throwing his head back.

You struggled with your hands bound behind you trying to catch your breath. “Bucky, I can’t-” He just went faster, the sound of skin against skin motivating him further. “I know. You gonna cum all over my cock, princess?” He asked, looking down at you. Tears slipped from your eyes and he let out an almost maniacal laugh. “Y-yeah.” You stuttered shakily.

As if on command he felt your walls tighten around him and your form went limp in his hold. You were holding your breath writhing against him. Incoherent mumbling came from your lips. The sight of you unravelling made him lose the bit of control he had left. “Gonna fill you up. You deserve it.” He said slamming his hips into yours, holding you in place. His cock twitched in you he sighed at the feeling of his own release coating your walls. It was a hot white feeling that flooded his entire being and it rolled through him in waves. Though his focus went back to you quickly.

Wrapping his arms around you he pulled you up allowing you to lean against his chest. Still slightly trembling you buried your face in the crook of his neck. Using his free hand he reached behind you pulling the belt from your wrists. Desperately you clung to him, and he hushed you gently. He kissed your forehead, running his hands back and forth over your skin.

“I love you.”

This wasn’t odd. He’d said it to you before. Always in moments like this, and he meant it with his entire being. You always responded the same, and it tore at him each time.

“I know.”

Then the cycle would start over.

[narutogwriting]

Wildest Dreams

Pairing: Sasuke Uchiha x Reader

CW: mild nsfw; angst

Length: 2.5k+

Inspired by “Wildest Dreams” by Taylor Swift

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

You can feel his breath on the back of your neck as you stand motionless. The moonlight spills in through the window, lighting up the otherwise dark room. You’re holding your breath, afraid to move, afraid to make a sound. You don’t want to break the spell, worried that this is all a dream.

His hands brush through your hair, gathering the strands to move them over one shoulder, exposing the back of your neck to him. Your eyes flutter closed as his lips begin to press light, open mouthed kisses to the bare skin. His hands pull your hair, tilting your head to the side and revealing more of your neck. The other hand trails down your arm which is pinned close to your side. His fingers gliding over you brings goosebumps to the skin.

If this was wrong, you didn’t care. If this made you a traitor, you would gladly spend a lifetime on the run if it meant you could spend every night like this. You knew that you would have to wake up soon. This could only happen in your wildest dreams. But somehow, it was reality.

~

You weren’t supposed to be alone. Teams were put together even on the simplest missions for a reason. The world was a dangerous, unsafe place, and outside the perimeters of a village, anything could happen.

But you had never seen the ocean before. In all of your years as a ninja, none of your missions had brought you to the shore. So when you were sent to help a beachside town, you didn’t want to leave. All you wanted was to feel the sand in between your toes and breathe the salt air into your lungs. Reluctantly, your teammates agreed to head back home without you. You would only be a day or two, after all.

The small town was full of cute little boutiques with seashell necklaces and beachy dresses. You couldn’t help but to buy something, wanting to live out the romantic picture you had in your head. In a white maxi dress with a slit up the side and tiny starfish earrings, you headed to the shore.

The sun was beginning to set, and you’d never seen a more beautiful sight. Reflecting off the waves were the most radiant pinks and oranges you’d ever seen in your life. It was blinding, and the line where the sky met the sea gave you the feeling that you were being called to something more.

You could have stayed there forever. You wanted to. Maybe you should. Leave the leaf, put the shinobi way of life behind you and spend the rest of your days with your feet in the sand and saltwater in your hair.

It was only out of the corner of your eye that you noticed another figure arriving on the beach, standing a ways away from you, taking in the vision like you were. You wondered what that person was thinking and feeling, if they were in awe of the natural beauty the way you were. Did the vastness of the sea make everything in their life seem small the way it did yours?

You’d always been a dreamer, lost in your own head. You longed for someone who saw the things you saw, and thought the things you did. It was a bad habit you’d picked up, projecting your own fantasies onto others, but you couldn’t help it. You were desperate for the type of connection that made everything else fall into place.

On a whim, you turned to look at the person. You weren’t going to talk to them, not wanting to break the magical spell the scene had placed on you. It was simple curiosity, wanting to know who you shared this special moment with.

Nothing could have prepared you for who it was you saw. 

~

After an eternity, his lips detach themselves from your neck. Both hands holding your arms, he turns you slowly to face him. You have to tilt your head back to look at him; he was so much taller now than he had been last time you saw him. Shakily, your hands move to touch him in a way you never thought you would.

You place a hand against his chest, feeling the firm muscles underneath your fingertips. He wasn’t a boy anymore, and neither were you a little girl. His black hair still stood out shockingly against his pale skin, but those normally cold dark eyes were alight, staring into yours, burning with something you’d never seen before. 

His hand reached up, caressing your cheek with a softness you didn’t know he was capable of, gaze so intense you thought you would buckle under it. Butterflies erupted in your stomach, fluttering up into your throat, choking you with something you didn’t have a name for. The adrenaline they brought sent signals to your brain, screaming for you to run.

But it was already too late. He was a lion, and you were the prey. You would gladly let him devour you whole.

~

You were a sight for sore eyes, the relief at having some kind of familiarity shocking him. It had been so long since he’d been home, and he never missed it. He’d done everything he could to sever all his ties to the Leaf, and he never thought of it at all anymore.

So the leap in his chest at seeing you after so many years was almost overwhelming for him. How long had it been since he’d last felt anything other than apathy? That was what he’d been wondering as he’d stared into the sinking sun, watching as the light shined off the water like diamonds.

Sometimes, when he looked at something so big, something that seemed so infinite like the ocean, it made him--all of his hate and aspirations--feel small and meaningless. Sometimes it made him wonder if he could just shrink, disappear into nothingness and leave it all behind. The hurt, the anger, the hatred. But who was he without those feelings?

And then there was you, standing there like a vision, as if you were the answer to all his unsaid prayers. Had this been any other time, any other moment, he probably wouldn’t have felt this way. His walls would have been up. He wouldn’t have paid you a second look. He couldn’t afford to.

But that was what made the whole thing seem so serendipitous. You were there at the exact right time, the time when his guard was down, and he was searching for some kind of answer.

You looked like an angel standing in your white dress, and the sunset reflecting in your eyes looked like a fire burning within you. He wanted to touch your rosey cheeks, press his lips against your red ones. It was a vision he would keep in his mind long after he’d left you behind.

~

“No one has to know,” You whisper. Your foreheads are pressed together, your lips but a centimeter apart. You both agree; it’ll be a secret between the two of you, a memory that you’ll tuck away in the very back of your mind. One you’ll only remember in the dead of night while everyone else is asleep.

His hands go to your hair, fingers tangling in the strands. He lets the soft curls run through his fingers a few times, and a blissful sigh leaves your lips at the gentle touch. Then, suddenly, his fingers are tightening at the nape of your neck. You gasp at the roughness, though it comes out as a broken moan. He pulls your head back by your hair, staring down at you with lust in his eyes.

You reach for him with shaky hands, pulling at the tie on his robe, pushing the cloak off his shoulders. It falls to the floor, leaving his upper body bare, and your eyes take in every inch of him.

The want is clear on your face, and you are putty in his hands. You know it, and so does he. It should be scary, being so vulnerable with someone, being so willing to please. But you know he isn’t going to take advantage of you. He’s not going to hurt you. At least not in any way that you won’t let him.

~

You hear your name leave his lips, and the sound is so familiar. You’d played his voice in your head a million times over the years, but it’d been starting to fade. You hadn’t wanted to lose his voice, and now you were sure you never would. You could never forget the way your name sounded coming from his lips.

A part of you is almost surprised he even recognized you. It had been a long time, afterall, and you doubted that he had ever thought of you much. You were never one of his screaming girls, just a silent fan watching him from the sidelines, wanting him to succeed. You always wished you would be the one to break through his defenses, but your attempts had only ever left you bruised. 

But he’s looking at you, and you think he sees you. He really sees you, and it leaves you weightless, breathless, nothing else in the world exists or matters. It doesn’t make sense, that he’s here, that he knows you, that he’s talking to you. It’s like something you dreamed up, but he’s here, and this is really happening.

~

You wonder if he’ll remember this the same way you will, if he’ll look back on tonight as a pivotal moment in his life the way. Here, in this inn room, is a liminal space. You can’t stay here with him, as much as you may want to. You must cross over, make a decision, some kind of move. In this room, you are leaving something behind, but not fully where you are going.

Nothing lasts forever, but for now you can stay, and you can remember. 

“Say you’ll remember me.”

The words come out as a desperate moan as you grasp your hands in his hair. He’s sucking bruises into your skin, barely containing himself. Your clothes are on a pile on the floor somewhere, mixed with his own. The two of you are tangled in each other; you don’t know where you start or where he ends. 

He hums against you, letting you know he heard you. You want to hear him say it, but you’re too caught up in the pleasure to really care. His fingers are pumping into you insistently, becoming more and more impatient. You can feel him hard as he presses against you, eager. Needy.

Finally, he pulls back from you, you both are panting are, trying to catch your breath. You stare up at him, searching. His eyes meet yours, and they’re no longer dark as night; they’re red as blood, and you’re hypnotized, totally caught up in him. 

“I’ll remember.”

And then his lips are on yours, and he’s pressing inside you, and it burns so good you think you’ll lose your mind. You think you must be making noise because how could you stay quiet when there’s so much pleasure, but anything coming out of your mouth is swallowed up by his. 

You’re arching into him, desperate, and he’s holding you to his body so tightly it’s like he’s afraid you’re going to disappear at any moment. Your name is tumbling continuously from his lips and it sounds like a poem you could spend a lifetime listening to. You know there is only tonight, but you can let yourself dream.

On the bed, on the counter, against the wall. He takes you on every surface he can manage, bucking into you wildly, and you think this must be the most out of control he’s ever been in his life, and the fact that it’s because of you has your head reeling. You’ve never wanted something so bad in your entire existence. 

Your mouths are pressed together, your tongues clashing. He hooks your leg over his shoulder and he presses into you so completely your head spins, and you’re convulsing around him, screaming his name desperately.

More.

More. 

More.

You need more.

The room is spinning, you think you’re still crying out, and his movements haven’t stopped or even slowed. 

You feel like you could pass out then and there, but you force your eyes open, wanting to take in every movement, every inch of him, and you realize he’s doing the same. His eyes haven’t left you once, and it’s overwhelming, the intensity of his gaze. 

“Say my name.” 

He’s commanding you and begging you all at once, and you have no choice but to comply. Saying his name feels like the answer to your prayer.

And then he’s cuming, hips stuttering into yours as he spills inside of you. He continues to rock into you as he rides through his high, lips smashed harshly against yours. You never want him to stop, but eventually he does, stilling inside of you.

He’s propping himself up by his elbows, barely, breathing hard as he looks at you. You’re both caught in the dream. You never want to wake up.

And you definitely don’t want to ruin this, but you can’t help yourself. Your fingers are still twisted in his hair as you force out the words, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Will I see you again?”

You both know the answer. You are two very different people on two very different paths. You can’t ask him to stay anymore than he can ask you to leave, and you both know this.

But it’s like an unspoken agreement. It’s okay to pretend that, yes, you will see each other again, that no, this isn’t the end. So he says it, says yes. He will see you again. 

So you spend the rest of the night pretending. In between every kiss, every touch, you talk about the ways things might have been and then you ride him desperately, or he takes you from behind, and as you catch your breaths, you continue to pretend.

You spend all the dark hours tangled up in each other.

~

You’re gone the next morning before he wakes. You had to be. You knew you couldn’t survive it, seeing him leave you. You had to be the one to go.

By now you couldn’t smell the sea salt or feel the ocean breeze on your skin. You were too far gone, moving quicker than you usually would. The faster you got home, the faster you left it all behind you, a distant memory.

Part of you wished you had stayed, at least said goodbye. But you knew you couldn’t. The night had ended on a high. Anything else would have shattered the spell he had cast on you.

~

He sat up, alone in the inn room. Sunlight was just starting to spill through the blinds as he shrugged his robe back over his shoulders. He made a move to leave, but a small note on the nightstand caught his eye. He picked it up, examining the neat, cursive print.

see you in my wildest dreams

[wolf-and-bard]

So, I wrote a Lambert x Aiden thing because of a conversation I had with @littoraly-art, so here we go. It’s hurt/comfort, but very much on the angsty side.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: explicit language, (brief) mentions of self-harming behaviour

You can also read it on AO3 if you want to

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

The hunt didn’t go according to plan. Lambert underestimated the amount of ghouls that would crawl out of that shithole and fought them well into the night, dodging and striking, dodging and striking for hours on end. They chased him through the forest and branches whipped at him. More than once, did he narrowly escape their bites and when they were dealt with and he stumbled back to light a bomb in the nest, he wasn’t fast enough on the retreat. His ears still ring and white spots dance at the margins of his vision. Lambert only notices that he’s overdosed on Thunderbolt when he’s already back at the inn he booked for the night, two ales down, and his muscles are still taut, ready to strike, while his sense of self-preservation has plummeted. Fuck. His fingers shake as he gestures for another drink. Sweat gathers at his collar, at the small of his back. He wants to sleep and rest, but he won’t be able to, not with the residue adrenaline.

“Lambert?” someone says and Lambert hunches his shoulders. Maybe if he hides his face, he won’t be recognized. But Aiden’s already emerged from the crowd and, anyway, he would have smelled Lambert the moment he set foot into the building.

“It is you!” Aiden saunters over, all neat bun and scandalously tight gear, his brown hair looking almost black in the downcast light of the inn. His smile is brilliant as he takes the chair opposite Lambert. Takes Lambert’s hands and inspects them for wounds before bringing them to his lips. “Hey, there, pup,” he murmurs against Lambert’s knuckles. Lambert’s heart does skip a beat, but with that comes a flare of anger. Aiden doesn’t get to be lovey and cheerful when Lambert wants to crawl out of his own skin. He hums something indiscernible.

“What is it? Talk to me.”

“Nothing.”

“Oh, really? Alright, if that’s how you want to play it,” Aiden says mockingly, letting Lambert’s hands go. “What? Oh, yes, it is good to see me, isn’t it? How I am? I’m so glad you asked. I managed to haggle a big fat fee on a rock troll couple that were mating up in the mountains and causing avalanches and now I’m drowning in coin. Pretty crazy, right? If I made it okay? Aww, sweetie, there’s no need to worry. Haven’t got a scratch on me. You wanna hear more about it? No, of course it isn’t too much to ask, I will happily oblige.” 

"Just... leave me alone," Lambert cuts in, and lifts his tankard to veil his face. He's good at hiding his emotion, but in the face of whatever this is and with the day he's had... well, his boundaries are more than probed.

“What? So, you can give yourself a sorry hand-job and cry yourself to sleep? No, sir, that would be incredibly pathetic and a crime against humanity.” Aiden smiles and before Lambert can keep drinking, he’s snatched the tankard away and emptied it himself. Great. Now there isn’t even that to hide behind. Lambert likes Aiden, he really does. On most occasions, he’s so overjoyed to see him that he doesn’t recognize himself. Aiden makes him feel… too many things to think about right now. Today though, Lambert’d rather be alone.

“None of your business.”

"Fine, have it your way" Aiden says with a good-natured shrug and, humming, stands. He makes a beeline for the nearest table full of average-to-handsome soldiers with the Temerian blazon on their chests, and slams a hand down on the table. His hips are cocked out, his smile sly, exposing overly sharp canines. They all look up at him with varying degrees of surprise, realisation. “Any of you boys down to fuck a mutant?” Lambert's blood runs cold, he’s had enough of this. He hurls his empty tankard across the room, angling just so he doesn't hit anyone - though no guarantee on the rebound – and leaves.

His armour, clothes and swords are scattered across the small room he rented by the time he makes it into bed, wearing only thin cotton smallclothes. He sits not two minutes, contemplating whether to go asleep or order himself more alcohol to dull the edge of his frustration even further, when Aiden comes into the room, no knock, no courtesy.

“Aren’t you off sucking flaccid cock? Or are you already done the whole lot of them?” Lambert spits, and crosses his arms over his bare chest. Aiden’s eyes darken and he shuts the door behind himself, forceful enough that it rattles, then slips out of his own armour and boots without much ceremony. “Go get your own room, asshole.”

“You know what? Go fuck yourself,” Aiden replies in a measured manner. All his earlier aloofness is gone, replaced by a gravity Lambert has a hard time looking at. Aiden sorts both their stuff into neat piles, then takes Lambert’s swords to the corner chair. Lambert stares at his own knees, but he can hear every tiny movement of Aiden’s hands as he cleans Lambert’s swords, inspects them for chips, pulls out a whetstone to restore their edge. The amount of care this alone conveys almost brings tears to Lambert’s eyes. Aiden could be deep-throating handsome soldiers right now, but instead he’s here, doing for Lambert what he doesn’t have the energy left to do for himself.

When he’s done the swords, Aiden does the same to his own pair, then examines the two sets of armour plating for tears or gashes that need mending. He lines up both chests of potions and counts out what’s missing, takes notes for ingredients. It’s a normal routine, only that usually, each witcher does it for himself. Lambert feels a mixture of embarrassment and affection heat his cheeks, but he doesn’t look up, not yet. Only when Aiden finishes with a soft exhale and wanders over to the bed which dips under his weight, does Lambert uncross his arms. Dares to take a peek. Fuck. He shouldn’t have. Aiden’s pupils are wide in the starlight that falls through the single window, the moon painting him in blues and silvers. Some of his hair has escaped his bun and his lips part on a sigh that expose his teeth. He’s a fucking vision, too gorgeous to be sitting here.

For once, there is quiet, so rare with the two of them. If Lambert lets go of consciousness a little more, it almost feels like a dream. If it were, he would reach out, draw Aiden onto his lap, lose himself in the familiar glide of their bodies against one another. As it is, the silence hangs by a thread and Lambert cuts it, edges fraying into dust between them.

“What,” he barks and Aiden sighs again.

“The only cock I want to suck is yours, idiot. Flaccid or not.

“Is that so?”

“Yes? I thought I had made that abundantly clear.” Aiden has. There have probably been more blowjobs than nights they shared a bed, altogether. And maybe that’s the problem. Aiden might not seem it now, but one day Lambert’s cock will not be enough to make up for his mouth.

"Why were you so obnoxious then?" he asks.

"Because you need to learn not to push me away, Lamb. I'm here, I understand, I'm yours." Three quick sentences that puncture Lambert like barbed arrows. I'm here feels like sparks of an off-kilter Igni that eat at his fingertips. I understand goes right to his gut and makes him feel like he is out on the rocky sea, in a rickety boat all by himself, at the storm's mercy. I'm yours is the lightning that strikes then and short-circuits his nervous system into small spams. He takes a deep breath and the soft kiss Aiden places on the corner of his mouth when he leans over helps quell the panic. "I can't change how I am," he says. Prickly, loud-mouthed, mean.

"You really aren't... no, that's not gonna work, is it? C’mere." Aiden crawls over the bed and settles next to Lambert, draws him against him, his strong arms wrapped firmly around Lambert's bare chest. Lambert's head is throbbing lightly, heartrate kept accelerated from the alcohol, but he deflates a little. Notices the small vial with almost clear liquid Aiden is holding between his index and middle finger. “You didn’t drink it, did you?”

Lambert shrugs. So, maybe he forgot to take the White Honey, fucked-up as he was. So, maybe he didn’t want to take it, stay fucked-up a little longer. He has days like this, where the lingering toxicity of the potions stokes some dark flame deep inside of him, kindled by his hatred for what he is, what he has become. Lambert isn’t prone to self-harm, but this, well. This he is prone to and Aiden is seeing right through him. Fucking cat, fucking.... is this love yet?

“I didn’t.”

“So, do it now.” Aiden uncorks the bottle with one hand and his grip on Lambert tightens so that he would have to struggle to escape it. For a moment, Lambert thinks about refusing. He wants to wallow, dammit, he wants to pity himself and maybe have Aiden pity him too. “Don’t think about it, pup. You can bullshit your way around other people, but not around me,” Aiden continues and holds the vial to Lambert’s lips. Lambert snatches it away and empties it in two long drags. Immediately, his vision sharpens and his lungs clear. His muscles stop trembling and his heartrate settles into its normal, mutated rhythm. “Better?”

“Better,” Lambert agrees sulkily. He tosses the vial aside and sinks back against Aiden.

“You’re really stupid sometimes, you know that?” Aiden says with a sharp edge to his voice, but he noses at Lambert’s ear, under it, breath hot over the skin of Lambert’s throat.

“You’re the one that’s stupid…” Stupid for caring for me. Stupid for still being here.

“Will you stop it already? I’m trying so hard to be patient and you keep pushing me away. Did you forget who I am? What we share?”

“I didn’t,” Lambert says. He is weak and tired. He lets Aiden tug at his chin and half-turn him for a kiss that lingers even after their lips part for breath.

“Then drop the farce. Fuck, I don’t know what to say to you,” Aiden whispers against his mouth, chasing each word with a kiss to Lambert’s lips, the corners of his mouth, his nose. “I love you, Lambert, I love you so fucking much, but I can’t keep prying you out of your shell. Don’t you trust me?”

I want to love you too, Lambert thinks.

With my life, Lambert thinks.

You’re the best person I’ve ever met, Lambert thinks.

But he isn’t ready for that yet and so he settles for the next best thing: “I’m sorry.” The rest of it he pours into their next kiss, one that feels frozen in time for how slow and indulgent it is, the world reduced to the drag of their lips and the scratch of Aiden’s canines, the stuttering of his breath. Lambert wriggles around until he straddles Aiden’s lap with his thighs and frames Aiden’s tanned face with his scarred, pale fingers. Even paler next to his lover. Aiden fucking glows and Lambert is less a man, more a phantom next to him.

“Fuck, puppy, you’re so beautiful, do you know that?” Aiden gasps when they part once more. His hands are splayed over Lambert’s upper back and they are both half-hard against one another, but Lambert doesn’t feel like sex. He feels like curling up and having a good cry. He feels like kissing Aiden again, and so he does.

“And here I am, trying so hard to hide it so you peasants don’t feel bad about yourselves,” Lambert says, on instinct more than anything else. He wants to slap himself, this is exactly what Aiden meant, isn’t it? But Aiden laughs, the fucker, a clear sound that sets loose something fluttery inside of Lambert. Shit. It is love. “I thought the scar would have done the job.”

“Joke’s on you, I adore the scar.” Aiden presses his lips to the bottom of it and drags them along, skipping Lambert’s eye in favour of nuzzling his forehead. It’s ridiculous. It tickles. Lambert laughs and hides his face in Aiden’s neck. Aiden sighs and his hands wander up to Lambert’s head, cradling it. “Promise me something, pup?”

Anything, Lambert thinks. He grunts.

“Allow yourself this. I don’t need you to fall onto your knees and profess your love in some grand gesture, but… don’t shut me out. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Thank you.”

Lambert falls asleep like that, tucked against Aiden’s chest and he wakes in the morning facing the sunrise with an arm slung around his bare torso and Aiden’s nose pressed against the nape of his neck. He allows it to last.

[smutsonian]

a man for you

lance tucker x reader

summary: just a little drabble of lance being a sucker for you

warnings: err OOC lance?, cursing, not much really... not proofread.

word count: 968

a/n: first lance fic it’s kinda ehh

masterlist

You have no idea how or why but you always find the Lance Tucker trying to get in your pants. Actually, it’s not really a surprise because the guy lives to get his dick wet by every hole he encounters. What you can’t understand is why he’s so hell-bent on you. Maybe it’s got to do with the guy’s huge ego. He probably can’t accept the fact that he can be rejected by anyone. It just so happens to be by you.

“For the last time, Tucker, and get this through your thick skull. I. Don’t. Want. To. Go. Out. With. You.” You glared at him with each word, speaking as if it was a toddler you’re talking to. Not that Tucker is far from being a kid…

“Come on, sweet cheeks… Why not? I’ll treat you right! I promise!” Lance almost begs. You would’ve acknowledged the butterflies you felt but knowing him, he’s just saying that so he can finally get to your cunt. That’s why you chose to ignore the thumping of your heart.

“Whatever, Lance…” You roll your eyes, turning around to leave the guy alone before feeling a soft tug on your arm, guiding you to face the gymnast once more.

“You just called me Lance.” He sports a huge grin as he stares at you with those gorgeous sparkling eyes.

You scoff at him before pulling your arm away from his hold. “And what about it?” You cross your arms in front of you in hopes of calming your abnormally beating heart. It wasn’t supposed to be beating like that. And for Tucker?! 

He continues to stare at you with that shit-eating grin which only annoyed you more so you let out another huff before rolling your eyes once more and turning to walk away but only to be stopped by him again.

“Ohh come oonn!” He whined with a teasing smile. “Don’t tell me that you can’t feel a connection here!” He waves a finger between the both of you before licking his lips. You had to control yourself not to stare at his lips because Lord knows how that’ll boost his already inflated ego.

“Not really. Did you land on your head? You’re obviously out of your mind, Tucker.” You snarked, glaring at him with all the hatred you can muster.

He raises both hands in surrender before letting out a laugh. “Guess we’re back to Tucker then…” He mumbles before shaking his head in disappointment. He looks at you, something different flashing in his eyes. 

“Think about it, Y/N… Please. For me?” He almost looked desperate and hopeful but you brushed it off. Must be one of his moves.

“You think I’ll do favors for you?” You let out a humorless chuckle before shaking your head, earning a surprised look from the gymnast. His eyes are wide as he gawked at you, almost like he’s flushed or guilty.

“No. No, no, no! It’s not like that at all! Fuck…” He mumbles under his breath before looking back at you. “I just wanna take you out on a real date, Y/N. I swear.” He places one palm on his chest while the other is held up to symbolize his promise. 

You find yourself actually thinking about his proposal before Hope’s words swirl its way to your mind.

Tucker is a fucker that is up to no good. Stay away from him. You know what he did to me. You know what he did to every single person around him. He’ll do it to you. It’s his fucking hobby. Watch out for that fucker.

“You say that to all the girls you fuck?” You smile bitterly at him, praising yourself in your head at the surprised look that sported his face. The pride in you left when you saw him sporting an amused smile.

“You calling me a man whore?” He smirks at you and you huff at him. Is he proud of that? Of course, he is.

“I never called you a man.” You deadpan and his face falls quickly as he sported that smirk from before. His lips formed into a thin line before he nods defeatedly. 

“Okay. I get it… I know I don’t have a great reputation when it comes to…” He stares at you awkwardly before continuing. “But please give me a chance. I know you don’t have to. I just… I really like you, Y/N. I genuinely like you and this is not some ploy or trick to get into your pants, not that I wouldn’t want to but I’m just saying that it would be—” He stops rambling as he sees your harsh glare on him. He clears his throat before smiling at you. “I really like you, Y/N. No games, no tricks.” He walks closer to you before carefully reaching for your hands, waiting if you’d pull away. He envelopes your hands with his huge ones when you didn’t show restraint. He brings it towards his face before looking back at you with his glossy eyes.

“Just one chance and I promise you, I’d back off if you don’t enjoy this date.” He waits for your reaction, almost jumping in joy when you gave the slightest nod ever. You even thought you heard him squeal in excitement and you couldn’t help but to let out a small laugh.

He stares at you before smiling widely. “You won’t regret it, sweet cheeks!” He kisses your cheeks before pulling away.

“I know I might not be a man in your eyes… or to anyone’s eyes at all but…” He takes a deep breath before kissing your knuckles sweetly and you didn’t even try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach anymore.

“I’ll be the best man I can ever be for you.”

----

taglist

General: @readermia @unlikelygalaxygiver @xoxabs88xox @anncutamarica @chaoticfiretaconerd @i-love-superhero @caffiend-queen @coconutqueen21 @jtargaryen18 @jennmurawski13 @mushyjellybeans @ninjabucky @evnscvll @buckstaybucky @donutloverxo @rebloggingeverything @adriannajackson @la-cey @awaywithtime @littlegasps​ @gotnofucks

[luvluvnitrodynamite]

yearning for you

ft. itadori, fushiguro, gojou

g/n!reader + angst

slight self-harm tw (itadori)

a/n: AHHH i'm so sorry that i've been mia!! i decided to start this blog right before finals, which was not a good decison. now they are over and i have finished moving into my new place which means i can finally get back to writing. again, really sorry for the wait :)

itadori yuuji - yearning for him hurts. your heart seems to start spasming when he's near, and yet it's also simultaneously paralyzed. it just doesn't know whether to stop beating or to kick into overdrive. you're digging a pen into the palm of your hand, maybe the pain will distract you from the fact that he's sitting right near you? your skin seems to be dancing with electricity, crackling with excitement at the proximity. so close, and yet he's still infinities away. your poor abused heart breaks again as he smiles. such a clear, bright smile, and yet it's not directed at you.

you don’t know why you like him so much; you just do. your little crush on him is pitiful, honestly. you’re much too shy to say anything, so you’d rather let your heart explode in quiet. he’s a touch too oblivious to notice your feelings, save for you marching up to him, grabbing him by the collar, and kissing him. of course, though, you’d never do that.

you'd rather pine from afar, tucking your head in your hands and acting moony over a boy you didn't have the guts to talk to. it's not like you want to feel this way, but it's easier to suffer in silence than to have your guts ripped out of you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

fushiguro megumi - yearning for someone so standoffish is a bit difficult. one second you guys are laughing together, the next he’s giving what feels like the cold shoulder. did you do something wrong? why isn’t he smiling at you anymore? one second it feels like you’re intertwined and the next you realize he’s slipped out of your weave, leaving you unsteady and uneasy.

you want to talk to him, but he's so elusive. he's disappeared, leaving a blank space where he should be. you practice confessing over and over, only to see that he doesn't seem to exist anymore. you have all these feelings with nowhere to go, and they build up in your chest and leak out your eyes. you don't know why he won't see you, or why you don't see him; it's just the way things are now.

but then he's back! he gives you a soft smile and tugs on your hand, and it's like things have never changed. your feelings can freely flow again and wisp through words and shared looks, feelings that are affixed by a pure connection of the souls. you feel happiness blooming between the two of you, and it's unlike anything else you've experienced. it's like bathing in liquid sun: to be soaked in something so warm and pure, it feels like your psyche is being softened and rounded out. your sharp, jagged, painful edges are being melted down, leaving only smooth beauty. you've never felt so.....completed.

and then, he's gone. again. that silken blanket over your soul had been taken with him too, because you feel painful spikes across your body. with each step, it bounces around to impale every organ you have. there's nothing worse than having your yearning fulfilled. you've become addicted to having that peaceful normalcy and the second it disappears, you can no longer function. your previously dry eyes are now wet with that yearning, and it overflows into a waterfall that only a certain pair of hands can wipe away.

and yet, they're nowhere to be seen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

gojou satoru - you absolutely despise him. you hate his stupid laugh, and the way it melts you to your core. you hate his teasing, and how it reduces you to a blushing mess. you hate his eyes, and how plainly gorgeous they are. you'd almost prefer the blindfold, if only you didn't hate that too.

in short, you hate gojou. he sucks.

but you don't really hate him. you hate that you're not his. it drives you crazy that you aren't together, so you proactively despise him to banish this crush of yours. the lines between 好き and 嫌い are thin, so you can blur that burning in your chest into disdain. before he does anything, you decide to hate it. sometimes it comes naturally, like when he accidentally-on-purpose knocked the sake out of your hand and on nanami. after all, he didn't even try to get you another drink! the nerve! but sometimes, when he smiles just for you, you forget of your loathing. you subtly slip out of that secondhand hatred, tiptoeing over the the 'hate' line and crossing over into love. you allow yourself to admire him, gaze flicking over his much-hated features.

you feel yourself relenting. maybe he's not so bad after, you reason. it's a bit silly, to hate someone just because you can't have him. you happily decide to stop hating gojou, quit yearning, and go after the object of your affections. you've been hearing him around the corner, so you pop into his office to find him teasing utahime to the point of angry tears. sure she's mad, but he looks so.....happy? does he.....? no, it wouldn't......would it? your crush begins to subside, only to be replaced by a familar anger. you're reminded that he's simply not yours, and you suppose that he never will be. not exactly a nice reminder, but at least you remember why you hate him.

[uhgood-dooghu]

Dichotomy [M]

Author uhgood-dooghu

Pairing Underground Fighter!Namjoon x Reader

Summary He doesn’t want this life. But it’s the hand he’s been dealt. He is falling, but you are his safety net.

Genre Smut, angst, fluff, marriage!au, very loosely inspired by the film Southpaw, porn with a splash of plot

Warnings Unprotected marital sex, nipple play, nipple orgasm, oral (male and brief female), consensual possessiveness, Namjoon has tattoos, mentions of violence, lots of love, lots of angst, some cracky fluff if you squint, they’re very in love, they have a kid, they’re dealing with a lot of shit

Word Count 4.1k

a/n Banner by @xjoonchildx​ who singlehandedly gave me more confidence in my writing in 10 minutes than anyone has given me in like...10 years (so yeah, not to be dramatic but I kind of love you 🙈)

Dichotomy . . Trouvaille . . Redemancy

Cross-posted to AO3

“You still up for me, tiger?”

From his spot reclined against the pillows, Namjoon cocks his head, tired eyes narrowing into a smirk when he finds you leaning against the closet door frame. Sky blue silk hangs loosely off your shoulder, revealing the sheer bodysuit gracing your curves. You quirk an eyebrow and grin as your husband’s darkened eyes roam your body and linger on the deep v between your breasts, cream tulle contoured seamlessly to your hardened nipples. With a lick of his lips, he folds his arms behind his head.

“I don’t know, baby. Why don’t you come find out?”

His smirk never wavers as you push off the frame and saunter towards him, a quick shrug pooling your robe around your elbows.

You pause at the edge of the bed to admire the sight of him laid out in nothing but his ink and black boxer-briefs. Unable to resist, your eyes wander, tracing the swell of his biceps, the cut of his chest, the sharp lines of his hips, before you drop your robe to the floor. Namjoon’s lips nearly twitch into a snarl when you throw a leg over his lap, sitting back on his taut thighs with a sigh.

Your hands run over his chiseled torso to feel the uneven flesh beneath your fingertips. Years of training, of fights both won and lost, of facing opponents with a lust for blood, have hardened him, left a mosaic of scars in their wake to mark and maim the bronze canvas. He hides them behind a mural of art. Blots out the ever-present reminders of the choices he’s made in a storm of black and grey.

He is ashamed.

But to you, he is beautiful.

His hands find your thighs, the cool metal of his wedding band digging into your skin as you bend and press your lips to a line of raised flesh blanketed by the curves of a whale below his collarbone. You kiss the length of the scar, his body a map you’ve long since memorized. When you flick over his nipples, he hums, and you trail the column of his throat with your nose before nipping the underside of his jaw.

He is tense beneath your lips, but he always is, carrying his burdens on broken bones.

Cupping his face, you capture his lips with yours, tongues falling into a seamless dance as his hands begin to wander. They slip to your ass, palming the flesh, and you break away with a hum as he rocks you against his semi-hard cock.

“You feeling ok?” Your eyes lock on the deep cut slowly healing on his brow bone. A parting gift from his most recent opponent.

The sight isn’t foreign, but you always ask.

Leaning in, he drags his lips over your pulse. “Never better.”

With a click of your tongue, you tug him back and frown. He grunts in displeasure, but allows you to thumb over the faded bruise on his cheekbone and the fresh scar on his lip, his eyes following yours as they take in his slightly crooked nose and sunken dark circles.

He’s not ok, a fact you both know. He hasn’t slept much since his last match, a brutal victory against a vengeful competitor. That night, you had nursed his wounds with steady hands, whispered words of reassurance into his ear, stripped his emotions bare until he was sobbing into your chest.

He’s not a monster. He’s not evil. He’s just surviving. But barely. And that’s why you always ask.

“I’ll be alright, baby,” he mutters, gripping your wrist and gently pulling it from his face. He laces your fingers together and kisses the back of your hand softly. “Don’t worry about me.”

Your lips twist into a thin smile. “I always worry about you.”

For a moment, his eyes flood with sadness.

They flood with his hatred of the underground. His weariness of breaking himself and others to provide for you and your son sleeping soundly in the next room. His ache to do something–anything–else that will put an end to the dead-eyed reflection he sees in the mirror.

But the underground is lawless, and you know he doesn’t have a choice. Debts, loyalties, threats… all cruel dictators of the life Namjoon’s been forced to lead. And lead it he will, as long as you are living and breathing beside him. As long as you are there to rebuild him when he crumbles.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, and you shake your head, smoothing out the lines between his eyebrows.

“No,” you murmur, fingertips tracing his face. “It’s just my job as your wife.”

A wry smile twists on his lips, one you quickly seek to remove with several soft pecks to the flesh.

“And as your wife,” you muse between kisses, voice turning playful, “I wanna see what damage you can do.”

His smirk returns with full force, and he resumes his exploration of your ass. “Oh yeah?”

Arms looping over his shoulders, you catch your tongue between your teeth. “Mhmm, think you can handle me, big guy?”

“What, you think I can’t go a couple rounds with you?”

With a matching smirk, you lean forward, rocking against his growing erection as you slant your lips to his.

“I think you can try,” you breathe.

He growls deep in his throat before reaching up and threading his fingers in your hair, yanking your head back to expose your neck. Your gasp melts into a moan as he marks his way across your skin, flesh turning crimson in his wake. When he closes his lips over your most sensitive spot, just below your pulse, you shudder.

In your years with Namjoon, you’ve discovered the bridging dichotomy between the fighter and the man you love. It’s in the way he claims you, paints you into a galaxy with his teeth and lips, etches his signature into your skin, as if bruising you with his love will erase the bruises he’s left in the ring.

You wear each one proudly, a constant reminder of the choice you made to call him yours.

“Joon,” you gasp, eyelids fluttering.

“Yeah, baby?” He nibbles at your collarbone before laving it with his tongue.

You don’t reply, instead shifting so your barely covered clit presses directly onto his cock, thick and defined beneath soft fabric. A small rut of your hips sparks an inferno in your veins, vocalized through a quivering whimper. His chuckles melt into groans as you grind against him, and he ducks to pull a nipple between his lips.

The sensation shudders through your bones, arousal flooding your cunt when he swirls his tongue over your bud through the barely-there fabric. A moment later, he has your bodysuit pooled at your waist and pauses to hiss a curse at the sight.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he whispers, chest heaving slightly, before diving back in.

“Baby.” You are clutching the nape of his neck, shivering helplessly as he traces the pebbled skin in relentless circles, teeth coming out to tug and release over and over until your head spins. A hand leaves your ass, and you feel his fingers pinching and twisting, palm cupping your breast with a tantalizing pressure.

He works you up, teases you breathless, pools the slickness soaking your body suit with each passing minute, and the pleasure is relentless. A constant vibration pulsing between your legs, through your fingers, down to your toes, rendering you a shuddering, whimpering mess in arms that flex to hold you upright.

Through the delirium, you realize he will have you falling apart just like this.

He confirms this when he purses his lips over your swollen bud, sucking with the right amount of force to have you riding that edge with a wanton moan. The sensation crescendos as he switches rapidly between your nipples, kissing and nibbling until it becomes too much, too fast, and you writhe above him.

“Oh fuck! Namjoon, I–oh shit shit shit, I’m gonna come,” you wail, and he growls against your chest.

Stomach clenching, hips rocking, hands vice-like around his bulging biceps, you surrender to your climax, babbling incoherently as it shudders through your body in pulsing waves.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” you whimper, aftershocks drumming up your bones, leaving you winded and feverish.

Namjoon pulls away with a triumphant grin, eyes locked on where your thighs meet. “You made a mess, baby,” he purrs, and you follow his gaze to see your arousal has leaked through the fabric of your bodysuit and hopelessly stained the outline of his cock.

Another whimper leaves you as he growls, “I fucking love your tits,” punctuating the statement with a kiss to each nipple.

Still panting, you reach down and snap the waistband of his Calvins. “Off. Now.”

Ignoring the amusement in his eye, you rise to your knees so he can slide them off, not even bothering to hide the needy breath that slips out when his cock springs free, slapping heavily against his stomach.

As soon as his underwear hits the floor, you shift between his legs to press wet kisses around his navel.

On nights after a winning match, Namjoon often takes his adrenaline home, releasing it in a tight grip of your hair and deep thrusts down your throat. After a loss, he lets you take the lead, drowning in the warmth of your tongue, cunt, whatever you want to give him, as long as he can cum.

But on nights like tonight, between matches, in the wake of training, he likes to be teased. Likes you to drag out his pleasure, because it reminds him he is still alive. Still capable of feeling something good. Still worthy of something good, even with a line of broken bodies trailing his own battered soul.

He’s told you as much in hushed words breathed into the darkness of your bedroom when he cannot sleep.

And, god, do you want to remind him he is worthy.

Your tongue dips into the curves of his abs, hands caressing the tops of his thighs as you trace over the v of his hips. He brushes your hair back and you catch his eye, heart blooming at the unfiltered desire pouring from his parted lips in bated breaths.

You don’t look away as you explore him with your mouth, nibbling a mark into his hipbone. His gaze is heavy, searing straight to your core, as you wrap your hand around him, swiping his precum off the tip with your thumb. It smears down his cock with each drawn out pump of your fist, and he grunts when you lick a slow stripe up the prominent vein framing the underside.

“Y/n…” His voice strains in his throat, fingers threading firmly in your hair, but you refuse to take him fully, instead running your tongue over every inch of his length, kissing from the base to the tip before sucking firmly on the head.

Swirling over the sensitive flesh, you dip lower, only to pull back immediately, teasing him with the warmth you know he craves but refuses to take. He needs the chase, and you’re all too willing to provide.

When you finally grant him a brief thrust into your throat, he moans with a buck of his hips, stuttering out pleas and words of praise, his fingers shaky against your cheek.

“Fuck, y/n, baby,” he pants, leg jerking when you swirl your tongue around his balls, drawing one into your mouth.

You drink in the way his chest rises and falls, flush visible even under his tan and tattoos, nipples pebbled, abs flexing with each labored breath. You love when he loses himself. When he allows the world to fade to black, until all he can feel, see, and breathe is you.

When he lets you in to gather the pieces of himself he’s chipped away.

You smile when he whimpers, thighs quivering around your shoulders, and pull back.

“What?” He groans, bumping his head against the headboard as you thumb over his slit.

With a kiss to his pelvis, you sigh. “You sound so pretty when you’re needy.”

Gently twisting your hair into a ponytail, he guides you up and drags your lower lip through his teeth. “I’m always needy for you.”

A contented hum fills the space between you as he moves you back into his lap. “I like that.” Hand still wrapped loosely around his cock, you give him another agonizingly slow stroke.

“Mmm, I know you do.” Namjoon palms over your ass and thighs, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your bodysuit. “Get naked, please?”

You tilt your head back, neck going limp as you slump forward and kiss his lips. “Mkay.”

Dropping his cock against his abs, you rise to stand over him on the mattress and spin around under his dark gaze. He gets a front row seat to the wetness stringing from your nether-lips, glistening as it is revealed in the muted lamp lighting. His groan makes you giggle, and you have barely stepped out of the bodysuit before he shifts.

You feel his tongue latch onto your cunt with a delayed jolt of pleasure, nearly falling forward as you gasp. His strong arms hold you still, lips descending to close around your clit, suckling the bud, and your knees tremble.

“J-j-joon, w-what–” you stutter, breaking off with a whine and a strained rock of your hips.

His grunt is muffled against your wetness, tongue dipping into your entrance. “Can’t help myself.” He slurps obscenely, and you blush with an involuntary clench. The motion sends another drop of arousal onto Namjoon’s tongue, and he moans, lapping it up, but you need more.

“Joon,” you beg and tap urgently at his hands. “Namjoon, baby. Fuck me. Please, I need you to fuck me.”

Your wanton plea sees you twirled around and jerked roughly over his cock. He presses the tip between your folds to tease your entrance and drag over your slippery clit in tight circles.

“How do you want it,” he whispers.

Gripping his shoulders, you gasp when he dips an inch into your cunt. “Like this,” you breathe, desperate to trap him in your warmth.

The stretch is sinful, delicious and wet, your soft walls squeezing and fluttering around him as he lowers you onto his cock. When you press your ass to his thighs, he groans, head falling back, and you snag the opportunity to kiss at his Adam’s Apple, enjoying the vibrations of his voice beneath your lips.

“Shit, y/n, you’ll be the death of me.”

You exhale a breathy laugh and rock back only to snap forward, much to his enjoyment.

“Better me than anyone else.”

You let him take the lead, let him drag you up by your hips until he nearly slips out, then slam you back down, beginning a damning rhythm that shocks your spine with pleasure. The mattress squeaks softly beneath your knees, the air between your bodies steamy and thick. Only the knowledge of two sets of doors and your son’s deep slumber allows you to vocalize your need for your husband with reckless abandon.

“Oh, right there, Joon, right there,” you whine, when he adjusts the angle to pound directly up into your most sensitive bundle of nerves. His blunt head kisses your cervix with each drop.

“Yeah? That feel good?” He growls, running his lips over the column of your throat, and you whimper an affirmative.

“S-so so good, mmmm.” Sinking onto his pelvis, you circle your hips, grinding out a fresh wave of arousal that soaks the base of his cock with an arch to your back. Your cunt clenches around him, and his fingers tighten over your thighs, face buried in your neck.

“F-uck,” he heaves, “you’re unbelievable.” Beads of sweat trail his temples, and he pulls back to lock eyes with you, chocolate irises heavy with something deeper than lust.

“I don’t deserve you.”

His words send a sharp pang to your heart, bringing you to a halt.

You let the pleasure in your veins simmer to a dull throb as you steady your pulse, shaking your head with a determined glint in your gaze. Encased fully in your cunt, his cock throbs against your walls, and you quiver at the sensation.

Wrapping an arm his shoulders, you press your palm over his racing heart, feeling it skip a beat when you squeeze around him.

“You feel that,” you ask, breathless, clenching again, and he moans brokenly. “You fill me up so well, baby. So perfectly. I was made for you.”

You drag yourself up and down, grinding your clit against the dark hairs on his pelvis. Your own breath hitches, forehead falling against his, chasing the twinges of pleasure with tiny ruts of your hips.

“You deserve me, Namjoon. You deserve the whole world.”

His eyes flutter shut, jaw clenching, and you know he doesn’t believe you. But you’ll keep telling him every day, every minute, until he does.

For now, though, you cup his face and draw him in, kissing him with as much love and devotion as you can pour into his lungs.

“I love you.” Another press of your lips. “I need you.” A breathless tangle of tongues. “Make me come. Please.”

You barely register the change in position before he is hovering above you, hooking your legs over his shoulders and entering you again with a single, powerful thrust.

“Oh–“ You nearly choke, gripping his wrist where his fingers wrap around your calf. “Oh fuck.”

He reaches deep within you, filling a gap in your heart that aches without him. As his cock drags against your most sensitive spots, tears pool in your eyes from the pleasure, but it’s the knowledge that only he can unravel you, break you apart and piece you back together–just as you do for him–that has you gasping out his name.

He was made for you.

“I love you so fucking much,” he growls, groping your breast. “You’re fucking perfect.” His voice shakes with exertion, fierce eyes boring into your glazed ones, possessive and utterly consumed with you.

“Mine.”

Your eyes roll back, and you nod helplessly, the pressure reaching a peak as you beg him to take you. Moans escalating, your fingers grapple for purchase, clawing at his biceps, his shoulders, anything you can reach. Your head rocks back and forth against the pillow as you ride along the precipice of ecstasy, tears spilling as you chase after the final push.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” you cry, and he grunts, rearing back to slip his hand between your bodies.

The presence of his thumb on your clit sends you careening into your orgasm, cunt pulsing around him wildly, your entire body vibrating, writhing under his weight as you sob out for him, barely registering the groans of praise he showers over you.

It seems to go for an eternity, wave after wave rolling through you, leaving you heavy-limbed and dizzy, a buzz settling in your eardrums.

A moment passes, and through your daze, you hear his voice, low and heavy, against your lips.

“I’m not finished with you, baby.”

You’ve barely caught your breath before he is flipping you over, manhandling your limp form with an ease that sends a leftover wash of warmth through you. Falling against the sheets, you stretch your arms over your head and let gravity arch your back.

He presses into the base of your spine, smoothing soft circles into your skin, before asking, “You good?”

You flinch when he grazes his cock over your folds, still sensitive and swollen, but nod, ready and willing. “Take what you want, baby.” Finding his hand, you intertwine your fingers. “I’m yours.”

It’s hard to think after that.

The slapping of skin on skin mingled with breathy whimpers and throaty groans grounds you as you surrender to Namjoon’s hold, bending to his strength. He chases his high with an iron grip on your thighs, ensuring a mosaic of bruises for the morning, and you know he won’t last much longer.

“Gonna come,” he grits out, hauling your ass higher, readjusting to slam you back onto his cock. “Fuck. You ready for me?”

“Mmmm, yeah, fill me up,” you moan, voice pitching as you cling to the sheets, reveling in the oversensitivity.

His hand leaves your hip to travel up your spine, weaving and fisting through your locks, pushing your face further into the mattress as his body bows over you, hips losing their rhythm. His breaths are ragged, grunts deep and feral in your ear, and you reach back to clutch at his thigh.

“Come for me, baby,” you pant, swirling your hips as he grinds into you, and then he is releasing with a choked groan, his warmth flooding you so deliciously that you sigh softly.

Chests rising and falling in tandem, you hold each other as the lust settles into a thrum of contentment.

“You think Wooyoung woke up?” The question is a whisper against your skin.

“No,” you huff, eyes closed heavily. “You can’t wake him up with the fire alarm.”

Namjoon’s laugh vibrates against your spine, and you smile. You feel his fingers detangle from you hair, and a kiss is pressed into the space between your shoulder blades as he slips his softening cock out, allowing you to roll to the side and stretch your legs. A drop of his cum trails the inside of your thigh, and you nudge his leg with your foot.

“Clean me up,” you chide.

He chuckles on his way to the bathroom, returning with a damp cloth that he runs over your body, rough hands a stark contrast to the gentleness of his touch. When he’s done, he passes it to you, letting you pull him in for a kiss.

“Thanks, baby.” The cloth finds the hamper as you go to pee, and stepping back into the bedroom, you find Namjoon already dozing off beneath the covers, one arm hooked behind his head.

You pause by the bedside with a smirk. “Wore you out, did I?”

He smiles, eyes still closed, and you climb in next to him, pecking his dimple before nuzzling into his side. His free arm wraps around you tightly, as you rest your cheek on his chest. “You’re my strongest opponent,” he mutters into your hair, making you laugh.

You settle into silence, but your fingers think for themselves, absentmindedly tracing over the intricately detailed moon inked across his ribs. Textured scar flesh hidden beneath swirls of black and grey bring back memories of cage fights you no longer attend, of nights spent beside dingy hospital beds yelling at your husband for pushing too far, of each and every time your son has run into your arms, crying and asking why his daddy looks like that.

It boils your blood to know there’s nothing you can do. You are powerless, unable to protect Namjoon from the world that claims him, unable to protect your son from the reality that ages him beyond his five years. Unable to protect yourself from the fear that, one day, Namjoon might not come home.

He feels you tense and drums his fingertips over your waist. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing…” A beat of silence passes, and Namjoon’s thumb presses into your hipbone with a little more force. “…just…“ Rising on your elbow, you reach up to brush over the cut above his eye. “…wishing some things were different.”

He remains expressionless, but you can see through the mask. Can see the guilt, frustration, and anger accumulated behind a fragile wall of self-preservation. Years of relentless searching allowed you to find the fracture, poking and prodding until it shattered for only your eyes to see. In its wake you found him broken and alone, consumed by the self-hatred and shame suffocating him at every turn.

You pulled him out of the rubble, gave him a light to follow, a reason to fight his way out of the ring. You stood by him, gave him everything he never thought he deserved, gathered the pieces of his soul he ripped away himself. You stitched him back together, wove your love into the seams, made him smile for the first time since his long lost childhood.

You found the boy beneath the man, and you want to give him the world.

You wish some things were different. But not him.

“Do you regret it? Marrying me?”

He knows the answer, and you know why he asks.

You saved me from myself.

“Never.”

© uhgood-dooghu/moodievitamine, written August 2020. Please do not copy, repost, or translate!

[dalishthunder]

Imagine....dualscar being tense and grumpy from a nights work on the ship...sitting down in his chair and reader comes out behind him to start rubbing at his shoulders....he has appearances to keep and doesn't like loosening his posture much but it's so hard not to melt under those warm hands

I actually wrote something that went down like that.... let me find it for you. It's between a servant reader and dualscar.... if that is your cup of tea (I'll put it under the cut in case it's not).

But just the thought of him melting..........

“Would you like me to go…?” You asked him, hoping beyond hope that he would say yes. It had been a while since you’d gotten a good sleep in. His first mate always had a task for you to do. Always. Without fail, something else. But if you slipped out now, maybe you could sneak back to your hammock before the sun rose.

He didn’t even turn his head to look at you as he spoke into his pillow.“I need your tiny little hands, there’s a knot in my shoulders. Work it out.” He unclasped his cloak and tossed it to the ground. Lovely.

You sighed, standing up and walking over to the bed. His armor was still on of course, but you weren’t going to mention that, no need to doff that if you didn’t need to. You just wanted this over as soon as possible… and with any luck he’d fall straight to sleep. You really, really hoped he was sleepy drunk.

Your fingers began to rub little circles at first at the top of the shoulders first.

“Harder.”

You applied more pressure.

“No. No, angles off. You should know by now how I like it.” He snipped, voice muffled by his pillow.

You ground your teeth, but hopped up onto the bed and straddled his back, kneading the base of his shoulder blades. He allowed it for a few minutes before speaking again.

“You’re going to have to take off the armor, sweetheart. I can barely feel you.”

“Of course.”

“’Of course’ what?”

“Of course, sir.” Your nostrils flared as you found the buckles on the side, working the stiff leather until it finally came loose. He shifted so you could slide it off of him leaving him only in a lavender silk chemise and pants.

Your palms pressed firmly into his back and you dragged up, eliciting a deep moan from the man below you.

“That’s the ticket.” The troll hissed, arching his back into your touch. You worked your fingers into his muscles, another shameless moan escaping his lips. “Just like that.”

Dualscar The Orphaner, Feeder of the Deep One wasn’t usually so… vocal.

“Mindfang is just so infuriating.”He moped. “That’s the third trade ship this sweep that she’s raided… the third fuckin’ one! That ship had off-world product on it! Four hundred and thirteen kilos of Timoorian steel just gone. She’s probably selling it off to the rebellion for a killing. It'd be endearing were she not such a piss poor kismesis…. She does this all the time. Wind me up with enough hatred to turn my bloodpump black then just fuck off to glub knows where doing glub knows what just leaving me stewing in my own concupiscent rage.”

Ah. He was chatty drunk tonight….

He went on and on as you worked his muscles, babbling like a brook. Mindfang this. The Condesce and Gl'Bgolyb that. You wanted nothing more than to zone out, but a talkative drunk could slip up information that could be used against him. So you listened, giving a thoughtful hum whenever the situation demanded, learning more and more about the intergalactic price of raw dafad wool against your will.

His monologue began to peter off after what felt like hours.

“Do you know why I chose you to be my personal attendant?” He asked suddenly, propping himself up just a bit.

“Because you’re not threatened by me.” You replied without hesitation. “And even if I tried anything an ocean surrounds us so there’s nowhere for me to go.”

“Well don’t we have a smarty pants here… Didn’t realize you could talk so much.”

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.” You muttered under your breath.

Dualscar turned his head to grin at you cheekily, grabbing you by the arm and dragging you under him. “So small.” He murmured. “With such a smart little mouth.”

He was intimidating even on the best of days, but pinned by his weight with his face only inches from your own…. You couldn’t help but swallow thickly as you caught a glimpse of his shark-like teeth.

“Such fragile skin.” His grin widened, teeth so sharp…. So sharp, you could swear you saw serration on the edges. Not the uneven rows of a bull or mako shark… but the perfect even triangles of a great white. The troll bent his head down, tracing his lips along your jaw and down your neck. “I could kill you right now.” His breath was cool against your skin, the bristly hair on his chin scratching against you. “It would be so easy….” He dragged his teeth along the length of your throat, just hard enough for you to feel it.

“… To rip your windpipe right out with my teeth.”

It was all you could do to keep still as he gently bit down, cold sweat covering your skin. No self defense class had prepared you for this. You could feel your limbs trembling as you stared up at the ceiling, view obscured by his bright orange horns.

“Not that I would of course,” He murmured into your neck, chuckling as he pulled back just enough to plant a soft kiss where his teeth had been a moment ago.

You exhaled shakily, and he pressed his lips against your throat again, laughing. “There’s nothing to be scared of… I’m not actually going to hurt you.”

You gave a nervous chuckle, hyper-aware as the prickle of his stubble left your skin as he brought his face back up, pupils blown wide as his eyes met yours, cheeks flushed a deep lilac hue. Your breath hitched in your chest….

Dualscar was a handsome man, Probably one of the most handsome men you had met; Troll or human. High cheekbones, thick black hair, violet eyes framed by golden sclera and long dark lashes… even the thin jagged lines that scarred his otherwise perfect face gave him character.

He loomed over you, his weight on your arms was almost unbearably uncomfortable at this point, pins and needles prickling along your veins, as his eyes bored into your own. Until he closed them, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours gently as though testing the waters. You melted against him faster than you would ever care to admit, and you could feel the smile on his lips. His fingers lit fires under your skin as they slid down your arm to your waist and up against the small of your back. How long had it been since you’d felt the comfort of an embrace…?

Passionate. Insistent. Desperate.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as you pulled him closer. You could taste sea salt and his drink, bitter and slightly citrusy, on his lips… So different from what you were used to.

His cool skin was a balm to the heated way he kissed you. You gasped as he groped your ass, claws pricking through the fabric of your pants, taking the opportunity to unceremoniously shove his tongue in your mouth. He absolutely reeked of alcohol but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, getting lost in the cold, foreign feeling as he explored your mouth.

You followed as he retreated, nipping his lower lip before running your tongue along it. He moaned, breath ragged as you dragged your nails along his scalp and behind his fins. You kissed him deeply, hands curling around his horns.

He gabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, Dualscar’s voice just a low growl in your ear.

“No.”

You whined as he nipped your jaw, lathing over the spot with his cool tongue. His free hand slipping under your shirt, blunted claws scraping against your skin as he kissed along your jawline and back up to your mouth. It was hot and needy, grinding his groin against your leg.

You pulled back, ducking your head to kiss his neck. He moaned, hand exploring your chest, thumb rubbing over a nipple, sending a shiver down your spine.

After a few more minutes, of licking and sucking his neck, careful to avoid the sharp plates in his gills, he finally sat up, breath ragged as he looked at you. Nudging you off the bed.

It was unexpected… and you couldn’t help but wonder if you had done something wrong before he spoke once more.

“Now strip.” He was looking at you with a lazy smile, sitting upright, legs crossed.

You flushed, pausing for a moment, mouth slightly agape. The kissing, the groping, the humping… you had figured it would lead up to this, but you couldn’t help but feel nervous. Sure, plenty of people had seen you naked before, but this was far from your forte. It wasn’t that you were a prude or anything… but it had been longer than you’d like to admit. In your younger years you had been so focused on excelling in school, and completing college that romance hadn’t been your primary concern. You’d had a couple of datemates, but it usually didn’t last very long anyways. And since you’d landed on Alternia it wasn’t like you even really thought about romance… probably something about too busy trying to survive to really care.

You must have been taking too long because Dualscar reached out and took your hand in his, pressing his lips to your palm, dragging his sharp teeth along your skin. Giving you an altogether disarmingly charming smile.

[waywardimpalawriter]

“Kissing me breaks the promise… remember?" with Javier and can I please have a happy ending, I know it's angst prompts but.... :D Thank you!

Crazy Love

Pairing: Javier Peña x Plus Size Female Reader

Characters: Javier Peña, Steve Murphy, mentions Connie Murphy

Setting: After season one episode 7 ‘You will cry tears of blood’, five months after the events in ‘Heels’,

Rating: M (Mature), E (Explicit), NSFW, 18+ only please

Warnings: mentions of gun violence, almost killing a child, self hatred, smut, unprotected sex, Angry Javier (yes he needs a warning), angst, slight fluff at the end,

Summary: One slip up, reacting too quickly he could’ve ended the life of one way too young to fight the wars of old men. Thoughts filled with darkness, what if’s and self degradation. Wanting to loose himself in the only way he knows. To find because of you he can brave the dawn and the coming war.

Word count: 5,985 (with lyrics)

Notes: Thank you so much for the request sweetie, @autumnleaves1991-blog I hope you enjoy. Prompt in bold. The song used is ‘Crazy Love’ written by Van Morrison and preformed by various artists. This also a sequel to “Heel’s part 1” written some months back.

Tag List:

Forever’s: @chickensarentcheap @jedi-mando

Knuckles white with the grip he’s got on the steer wheel, eyes darting between the thin packed streets and Murphy with the baby in his arms. “What about the kid? Any ideas where to take her?”

Missing the shrug, with his eyes back on the road, “For now I’ll take her with us.” Smirk twitching his dark blond mustache with the look Javier pins him with at a stop light. “Don’t worry Javi she ain’t gonna stay with you. Poor darlin can’t live on whiskey and cigarettes. Though the parade of women might slow with her at your apartment.”

“There’s no parade jackass,” trying to focus on the road ahead and off what almost occurred three hours ago.

Subtle tick to his jaw knowing something’s bothering his partner about what went down. More to the point of how it went to shit and letting two high ranking Sicario slip through their fingers. “Wanna spill what’s eaten at you?”

“No just take care of the kid don’t need you play shrink in my head,” pulling up to the embassy, Javier kills the engine turning fully to look at Steve. “Care to share your explanation to Noonan or will you wing it?”

Shrugging Steve glances down into her sleepy eyes trying to figure out just what he’ll say. More importantly what he’s going to tell Connie. “I’m not,” looking back over at Peña seeing a raised brow. “I’ll take her home to Connie, figure out this shit as we go.”

“I’m sure Y/N would babysit,” mentioning you name cut deeply as the last month he’s put distance between the two of you. Continuing the relationship based solely on your sexual needs instead of the feeling he keeps buried.

“Doubtful, she’s working on transferring out. Packing I’m sure takes her time up right now,” seeing the scowling confusion drawing his brows down. “You knew she asked for a transfer right?”

“When?” Curses fill his mind. Directed fully at himself for letting the situation spiral out of control to the point you’ve become that notch on his bed post. Telling himself he’s going to let you go but never finding the courage to actually cut the strings. “She never mentioned taking a transfer. ”

The nights spent together you never mentioned a transfer. But then words rarely left either of your lips that’s not in passionate pleas wanting more or demands for completion. Conversations the first to go in the crumbling relationship, embraces followed not long after and the final straw added a month and a half ago. No kisses on the mouth anyway a promise you made him invoke to separate the past pleasures from the present stalemate.

Revisiting those thoughts often, Javier understood why you made the decision. One he hated but respected. Wondering most nights why you still let him inside your soft plush body instead of putting up a wall between the two of you. Shoving him out of your life fully. But then the transfer you didn’t speak of talked louder than any uttered words could.

“Two weeks ago, something about returning back to the States. Damn shame Y/N’s a fucking amazing secretary even better person. Why’d you go fuck things up for us both?” Wanting to knock some sense into Javier but a part of Steve understood the other man’s reasons for pushing you away. “Just let her go man this job she’s not fit nor can put up with the stress. I know I pushed at first but whatever you did to shover her away it’s for the best.”

“She’s a lot stronger than you know,” said more to himself than Steve. Other mans words hitting deeper than Javier would say, his fingers tightening around the leather steering wheel. “You don’t know shit Murphy.”

“I know a month ago things changed between the two of you.” Switching the baby to his other arm cradling her close to his chest. “Whatever happened she become withdrawn, stopped smiling as much,” piercing him with a hard stare. “Reverting back to the woman I first met when coming Bogota.” Glancing out the windshield Steve drag a hand over his face exasperated sigh leaving his lips. “ piece of advice either fess up explain what’s eaten at you or let her go.”

Selfishness claws at his mind wanting to keep you from leaving. From getting away not only from Columbia it’s self but from him. The realistic half needing you safe a world removed from the war starting to build back up. This afternoon’s events flash through his mind of how he almost killed a kid. A fucking kid who tried to protect the Sicario scum he chased and cornered. Would’ve had him had the kid not pulled a gun on him. The decision not to pull the trigger an easy one this time. But what about the next? Making him no better than the men he chases if he decided to take the shot so easily. Affirming those thoughts to let you go for your greater good and health.

“Javi?” Snapping fingers to gain his attention. “Deep in thought or just swimming the shallow waters?”

Scowl taking up home over his features, “Don’t worry about it doesn’t concern you.”

“Fuck you say, she’s my friend to Javi.” Shaking his blond head wondering how much pushing it’ll take before Peña would break. “Besides I think Connie has a good chance at kicking your ass if you do anymore damaged. She’s wanted to get her hooks into you for a while now.”

Almost chuckling at those words though it’s mirthless and self deprecating. “She’s next in line,” tossing the words out while starting the Jeep. Silence reigns on the drive over to their apartment, pulling up to the curb and letting Steve out.

Who pauses in the open door, “Heading to Y/N’s? Or back to the Embassy?”

“Paperwork,” impatiently waiting for Steve to shut the door.

Eager for some peace and time to think. He sees you standing in the doorway arms crossed under your generous breasts. For once actually studying your features taking in the fact you look somber, dressed in well loved jeans and baggy T-shirt. No makeup, though Javi told you a thousand times how beautiful you look without all those cosmetics painted on your face. Heart kicking up at the way your staring at him. Barely seen with you so far away but he knows there’s a softness shining in your eyes. Emotions he’s never tried to decipher in other women till you. Thoughts now run into each other, fears chasing after wanting so much but feeling undeserving.

Soft chuckle echos around the Jeep’s cabin making Javi glance at Steve, “Time better served explaining than useless paperwork.” Looking over his shoulder to find you gone, “Before it’s to late and she’s gone.” Door slamming shut, Steve leans in through the open window with a meaningful expression on his handsome face. Patting the inside slight nod of his blond head before turning to go inside leaving Javier with to many thoughts.

Pulling away from the curb happening to glance back towards the apartments catching you standing at the window. Hand pressed to the glass unreadable look on your face one he’s sure shows signs of displeasure and anger. With a blink your silhouette disappears heart clenching at the thought he’s just imagined you standing there. Another curse flies from his lip, palm forcefully slamming down on the steering column doing nothing to temper the anger boiling inside his mind. Instead Javier guns the engine taking off at a high rate of speed receiving numerous honks in irritated warning.

*************************

Letting the curtain fall back in place wild thumping of your heart pulsing out a rhythm that aches with every pound. Partly hating yourself for getting involved with a man incapable of having any kind of relationship other than sexual. Asking yourself why you keep letting him back into your bed, into your heart knowing it’ll just break in the end. Only one answer comes to mind and you push it firmly back into the dark abyss. Focusing on what you needed to done. Having struggled for the last two months with the decision to finally put in for a transfer home, away from Columbia and Javier Peña. Never an easy choice especially when you’ve fallen in love with a man who would never love you back.

Heavy knocking makes you jump in spot leaning against the wall by the window. Hand coming to rest against the quickly beating organ threatening to thump right outta your chest. Taking a breath trying to calm down from the freight you take small steps to eat up the distance towards the door. Another round of pounding has a scowl appearing wondering who would beat your door down at this time of evening.

“Hold your horses I’m comin’ already,” raising you voice loud enough to at least pause the noise.

Grasping the doorknob right when, “Hermosa,” his voice pulls your hand back almost as if the knob burned you with that very endearment. “Open up you can’t hide I know your there.”

“Go away Javier I’m not in the mood,” arms crossed glaring at the door. Pivoting on bare feet to track towards the kitchen going back to sorting through what your keeping and leaving behind. Freezing in place the unmistakeable sound of a key sliding into lock. Cursing the fact you never asked for the spare back and giving him one in the first place. Try as you might to make your feet move instead there rooted in spot when the door opens. “I didn't invite you in Javi turn your ass around and leave.”

Breath escaping quickly, eyes narrowing after searching the apartment he’s spent the last months in. Catching sight of half filled boxes, newspaper scattered over the coffee table, before landing on your furious features. Hands gripping wide hips, soft chin jutted out in annoyance while eyes spit anger burying the true feelings deep. “It’s true?”

“Why do you care?” Countering his words biting the inside of your cheek to keep tears from sliding coldly down your cooling skin. “Leave Javier,” exasperated and tired just wanting to move on, putting the relationship in the past.

Not two steps away his warm gun callused hand incloses around your wrist tugging and turning your plush body around to face him. “Not till you answer me.”

“We don’t talk about feelings remember Peña, your rules,” yanking your wrist free glare firmly in place.

Flinching at the harsh tone eyes scorching him with there intensity, his own somber and filled with regret. Deserving of those very words no matter how much they hurt. He moves forward for you to take one back reaching to grasp both shoulders. Taking another step out of his reach slow two step pattern finds your back pressed against the bar counter. Reminiscent of the first time you made love all those months ago. Except this time you’d stand strong push him away and not fall prey to those warm russet eyes filled with so many indescribable emotions.

“Stupid rule I never should’ve put in our relationship,” three feet of space between the two of you. Both chests heaving breaths eyes locked and searching. His eyes close drawing in your familiar scent letting it wash all the days stress clean for a single moment in time. Ear’s picking up the quick beating of your heart wishing as his eyes open a smile would bloom over those kissably soft lips.

“But you did and there’s no taking it back now,” firm stance starting to crumble under the weight of emotions filtering through his dark eyes.

Half way to reaching out his hands drop back to fist at his sides, “I’m sorry hermosa I didn’t mean…” unsure how to fix what’s broken. Never good at speaking his feelings even when the need presents its self.

I can hear her heart beat for a thousand miles

And the heavens open every time she smiles

And when I come to her that's where I belong

Yet I'm running to her like a river's song

“What’d want from me Javier?” Pleading tone arms crossed to close your body off. Putting up a defense against the one man who’s managed to crumble every wall surround your heart. To starve off the bubbling emotions threatening to spill over and consume you.

Closing the small gap, callused hands cup both cheeks, fingers spread from apples to jawlines. Brushing his thumbs under your eyes his own pleading and soft ‘the puppy’ look you nicknamed it two weeks into the relationship. “To kiss you.”

Swallowing harshly, “Kissing me breaks the promise… remember?" Willing your body not to react, not to turn and place kisses to his palm. Nuzzling the warmth drawing peace from his comforting touch. “We made rules you know how I feel about kissing Javi.”

Almost two months ago things started to fall apart. Always asking yourself why you still let him into your bed and body. Part of you knowing the space carved Javier hole in your heart will never close. Not even denying the both of you those intimate kisses could change the fact he’s wormed his way through defenses long held too fall in love with your DEA agent.

“I know mi amor,” sliding one hand down from your face to wrap his arm around your thick waist. Pulling you flush into his embrace and against his body. Turning the both of you so it’s his back pressed into the counter. Savoring the softness wishing you’d hold him. Run your fingers through his hair and chase away the stress currently resurfacing with your tense posture. “I don’t want you to leave.” No truer words spoken ones that cut his very soul with the implications of what could happen if he didn’t take Steve’s advice.

Agony rips a new hole in your heart at his words, at the endearment dripping from those sinful lips. “You don’t mean that.” Eyes close to keep from staring into russet browns. Trying not to give in and foolishly hope he means what he speaks.

“I do hermosa,” eyes popping open at the barest brush of his chapped lips against yours, widen orbs find his shut, brow furrowed. “I don’t want to loose you.”

“Javier,” breathlessly whispering his name. The intensity of Javi’s declaration scares you not wanting to believe for a second his words ring true. Not when so many broken promises lay at your feet. Yet, if there’s one thing you know about Javier Peña he’s honest, never lying to you about what he wanted. Holding back sure, not letting you in those tightly held defenses of his own fuck yes, but lie to you never. Those thoughts make others chase after. Ones that scare you into thinking you’ve made a huge mistake by asking for the transfer. Could you leave his man who holds your heart? Walk away from a relationship that’s possibly just hitting a rough patch? So engrossed in those thoughts you don’t realize he’s tipping your chin up to angle your head in the prefect position to slot his mouth over yours.

Javier’s restraint having snapped with his name slipping from your bitten lips, wanting to meld the two of you together in the only way he knows how. Showing you with his body what his words couldn’t express. Javier captures your mouth in a bruising kiss filled with demands. Teeth biting at your lips, dragging plump bottom in to abuse with nibbles and soothing over with his tongue. Harsh gasp blown from your mouth giving him access to the warm cavern. Drinking from your well, tasting your flavor on his tongue always returning for more. Tangling together as his arm tightens around your soft waist.

Garnering a moan of need from deep within your chest. Attacking his mouth with your own, fingers coming into play by carding through those thick mahogany strands tugging harshly. Receiving a growl in return that vibrates down to your very core clit throbbing in response to his rough actions.

Mouths parting to gather air, “I need you hermosa please,” desperation coloring his tone foreheads resting together. The hand still cupping your cheek slides around to gently cup the back of your head. “I need…” swallowing hard, fighting to keep from taking you hard and fast right there. Burying the fear and pain, the anger and worry into your soft gentle body. Letting you sooth the demons threatening to consume his soul. But he couldn’t, promising to never show that side of himself to you.

Those thoughts in mind Javier moves in to kiss you only to chase your mouth till you place fingers over his searching lips. Seeing a spark of need in he eyes that’s closed away before fully blooming. Leading you to remember a conversation the two of you had at the on set of your relationship. Knowing what he needed and how, you step back watching his features fall with his arms to the side.

Only to have confusion replace the crestfallen expression as you tug the t-shirt up and off your body. Standing in just your panties and jeans, “I told you a long time ago Javier I’m not made of glass this body…” hands gliding up from your waist to soft tummy and generous breasts. “Won’t break if your rough with me.” Heat sparking in eyes that will him to listen, give in and take you. “If I’m staying and we work this out you’ll have to let me in.”

Each word hits him hard square in the heart, “I don’t want to hurt you cariño.”

“You already have Javier,” head dropping you go to tug your shirt back on. Only to have it ripped from your hand and tossed somewhere unseen. That soft gasp making his heart beat triple time. Strong arms wrap around your body to bring you back into his warmth. “Fix what you broke.”

There’s no gentleness to the possessive kiss Javier captures your mouth with. Large warm hands grip your plush ass to press into your tummy the thick ridge of his jeans covered erection. Low growl slipping passed parted gasping lips that angle for the right spot to draw those whimpers and moans he can never get enough of. Separating long enough to have you rip his tan button up open, little plastic disks pinging off the wall and tiled floor. Scoring your short nails over his soft tummy, toying with the button of his jeans.

“Fuck,” hissing through kiss swollen lips that attack your neck with bitting teeth. Wanting to mark each inch of you in reminder to himself of who you derive your pleasure from. “Do that again,” demanding cadence gets a soft smirk to spread over your bitten lips.

Keeping your eyes lock, breath existing quickly because of the passionate kiss. Short nails rake up his chest and leave little red lines behind. Detouring to pinch his pebbled tight nipples receiving another low growl against the skin of your collarbone. Where his mouth sucks a purpling mark laving his tongue over the bruising skin. Enjoying the shutter he feels race down your spine.

Pushing the shirt from his shoulders Javier raises his head to stare into your desire darken eyes. “Fuck me Javier till I can’t walk tomorrow.”

Simple words ignite a passion and deep seated need inside his body to claim and wreak you. Clothing becomes nothing more than obstacles in the way of having naked skin against his own. The two of your fumbling with buttons and zippers. His parting on a sigh of relief as you push the fabric to pool around his ankles. Nimble fingers brushing through course little hairs. Leading your hand to wrap around his shaft. Thick girth barely covered by your hand that you pump along heated velvet skin.

Smirking at the groaning string of Spanish curses falling from his lips. Only replaced by the pout, when he brushes your hand away. Mouth still just inches from yours brushing taking another sip from your lips. Drowning in the taste of your mouth, the feel of your plump lips against his. Devouring the pout and only breaking to whisper, “Later princesa.” Toeing off boots and soak covered feet pressing out of jeans, naked as on his born day for your eyes to devour.

Becoming insnared with his beauty far too long for Javier’s liking. Lips licked slowly watching the bob of his jutting cock. Mouth watering in want of a taste. Quick breaths expanded his soft covered muscular chest your hands itch to dust over. His handsomeness distracting you to the point a squeal issues from the back of your throat when he pulls you by the belt loops towards the couch. Skilled fingers making quick work of getting your jeans undone warm palms sliding the fabric down your body.

Javier drops back into the couch bringing you between his spread knees and placing kisses to your tummy. Nuzzling the underside of your breasts. Looking up to ensnare your vision with his own desire filled gaze. Strong arms holding you in place while eyes close, nose rubbing into your soft scantly skin resting his head on your tummy. Hands coming up to card through his hair gently this time tugging the locks and wrapping his shoulders with your arms. Emotions clogging your throat burning with the need to release the tears of mixed feelings.

Moaning head tossing back when his warm tongue peeking out to teasing the taut nipples his hands tug your panties down. Becoming impatient and ripping the thin cotton from your body. Making you gasp and look down into those desire blacken eyes you choose happily to drown in. “You’ll…” swallowing your words on a moan as those thick skilled fingers draw through your folds. Tapping your clit several times and retreating to slide inside your clinching walls.

She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love

She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love

She's got a fine sense of humor when I'm feeling low down

And when I come to her when the sun goes down

Take away my trouble, take away my grief

Take away my heartache, in the night like a thief

“I’ll buy you more cariño and go with you to help pick out certain ones,” giving you a cheeky wink. Groaning with the feel of slick coating his fingers, smirk in place when your hands brace on his shoulders to keep from tipping over into his arms. Pulling his fingers out to suck them clean making sure your watching his every move. The resounding whimper he draws out brings the same smug grin too tug at his lips. Gripping the back of your thick thighs to spread your stance and slot his own knees between.

Pulling you down against him knees on either side of his thighs. Hiss issued at the contact of your dripping folds coating his shaft trapped between your bodies. Rolling hips to tease your own hands gripping the back of the couch to brace yourself while raising up. Deep moan breaks from your chest when Javier draws the fat cock head through your folds. Circling your clit as your hips match the movements. Waiting till he’s notched himself at your entrance before slamming down against him.

Head tossing back at the stretch and burn of him splitting you open gasps of delight echo and play with the groans from Javier. Who grips your hips, holding you against him for a time face buried in your chest. Hot mouth searching out blindly latching onto your right nipple to bite down just hard enough to make your quivering channel squeeze him tightly.

“Fuck,” single word mumbled against your skin. When you start to move setting a quick pace that’s hard and demanding. Head dropping back between your gripping hands. String of curses and praise leave his lips. “Just like that hermosa, so fucking wet for me,” grunting into your mouth that came to fuss to his. Sharing breaths while you move against his body.

Taking possession of his pleasure with a kiss that’s deep and hungry. Devouring the sounds he makes with each quick roll of your hips. Pressing your generous breasts against the hard plains of his chest, nipples brushing his skin as his own hands grip your thick soft waist. Leaving behind bruises with how tightly he holds you. One hand gliding over sweat slicked skin to cup a full ass cheek giving a squeeze before landing a hard slap.

Movements falter with the stinging pleasure coursing through your veins, “Javi.” Kiss breaking breathlessly to catch his eyes. Seeing the indecision clearly written, you nod leaning to brushing your lips over his ear, “Again please.”

Mouth buries against the spot where shoulder and neck meet, planting his feet firmly to thrust into your welcoming cunt quicker. Letting a moment pass till he lands another smack to the other ass cheek. Soothing the pain with his warm palm, “Like that princesa?” Drawing his nose over the sweaty expanse of his throat tossed back on a gasp. Bearing your neck to his hungry gaze and mouth.

Taking advantage to bite and suck, thick mustache abrading your skin in the most delicious of ways. Sending tingles to dance across your skin making your clit throb with each hard pound of his cock deep inside your quivering walls. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders for leverage as your knees sink into the couch and you bounce on Javier’s cock. Thick thighs shaking as orgasm builds quicker than you thought possible.

“Yes,” whimpering out in answer. Both hands cup your ass helping you move against him. Sweat slicked shoulders make for a tough grip movements becoming choppy and sloppy. Low whine bubbles from the back of your throat needing more but unsure how to say.

Javier picks up on the destress, pulling out making the whine lengthen. “Lay back on the couch for me hermosa,” seeing the confusion in your gaze. Javi tugs you to sit in the corner of the couch, pulling till your almost flat and he crawls between those thick thighs he wants wrapped around his waist.

Sliding back inside of you on a groan, “Still so tight for me princesa I could stay buried in your pretty pussy forever never growing tired of having your surround me.”

“Javi,” heat flares across your body at his words, face buried in your palms. Only to have them pulled and placed on his chest. Shocked yet pleased with his sentiments, the way he growls out the words setting off tingles dancing down your spine.

Gasping when he pulls out resting just the tip before surging back angling to hit that little spot only he’s managed to discover inside you. Right leg draped over his hip left dangling off the couch as your hands scrap and grope at his shoulders. Strong arms press on either side of you holding himself up while rocking his hips into yours. Setting a fast and hard pace that has you gasping, moans of incoherent words tumble from your mouth that hangs open trying to gather breath.

Watching with hooded eyes, drinking in the way you look, the passion morphing your features never wanting to let you go. To always see you in the throws of pleasure he delivers to your body. Praying to whoever will listen that you’ll stay. Those thoughts creating a fire inside his body that moves quicker.

Wanting to show you his feelings by repeatedly burying his cock deep inside your throbbing cunt. Loving your soft thick body with his mouth latching onto a breast. Nipping skin and taunt nipples, curling his tongue before biting down and switching to the twin. Feeling your nails score his back and shoulders only driving on his own pleasure.

Needing you to cum first though, Javier slides one hand between your slick bodies to caress your clit with tight circles of pressure. Smirking into your flesh when you gasp and squirm under him. His name breathlessly spoken to the heavens your back arching off the couch. “That’s my girl cum for me amor soak my cock.”

“Javier,” fingers card through his hair pulling his mouth back to yours. Tender and sweet nothing like the previous kisses as you pour your heart out to the man pounding you into the couch. Foreheads rest together, moans dripping from your lips brushing against his trying to hold back to draw out the pleasure. Afraid of the final moment he finds completion and walks out of your life maybe for good this time. “I love you,” unable to stop those three words from tumbling out. Orgasm slamming through your body with the hard thrusts of Javier’s hips. Crying out his name, arching against him breath stuck along with tears in your throat.

Swearing he heard things, Javier’s pace stuttered but his heart pounds quicker. Hips having a mind of their own as his body rushes to completion. Cumming harder than he’s ever in his life, filling your clinching walls with hot stick seed. Strength evaporated from his arms collapsing into your embrace. Burying his face in your neck, hot moist breath fanning out over your skin. Small after shocks roll through both your bodies garnering whimpers and moans from both of you.

Time, unsure of how much passes while you card fingers through his sweat slicked hair. Enjoying this moment, basking in the after glow of your love making while praying it’s not the end.

“Don’t leave,” words whispered into your skin so low there barely caught. Wondering if you’ve heard things your fingers pause watching on stuttering breath as Javier raises his head to stare into your eyes. Wondering if you meant what you said or just caught up in the pleasurable sex and let it out. It’s on the tip of his tongue to ask when you beat him to the punch.

“I… I…” words lost in the jumble of your mind unsure what to say. Fearful your passionate declaration went unheard or worse ignored.

Cupping your cheek surprised to find tears tracking down your cheek, “Don’t leave me Y/N please.”

Searching his bright russet eyes confused till you see what he’s really saying. Realization blooming across your mind your own hand coming up to embrace his cheek. Thumb swiping over the apple, “I’ll speak to Noonan.” Bringing his mouth down to yours for a soft sweet kiss.

“Do you really love me?” Foreheads resting together breath held, his eyes closed tightly fearing the answer.

Shocked he’s asking. Remembering the times you tried to get him to talk about his feelings becoming shut down pushing the conversation away or distracting you with kisses and sex. With the lengthening silence Javier dares to open his eyes catching the soft expression in yours that cracks his frozen heart.

“I wouldn’t say those words if I didn’t mean them Javi you know that,” continuing to brush your fingers over his stubbled jaw. Up into his soft sweaty hair to gently scratch his scalp knowing how much he enjoys when you do. Rewarded with a low purr from the back of his throat. “What happened today baby?”

Fear keeps him quiet for a moment till, “I almost killed a kid.” Lowering his stare to map your skin with his eyes adding the marks he left behind to his memory. Fear returning now that you’ve heard how much of a monster he’s turning into.

“Did you shoot?” There’s no accusations or incrimination, voice softly seeking a way to help sooth the demons you saw when he first arrived.

Carefully pulling from your warm depths and embrace to sit on the edge of the couch face buried in his hands. Missing the whimper at loosing his touch. You grab for the blanket draped over the back to cover yourself in self consciousness. Moving carefully to sit up and lean against his shoulder. Fingers carding through his hair slowly while placing the other around his waist. Waiting till he’s ready to start speaking not wanting to push.

She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love

She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love

Yes I need her in the daytime

Yes I need her in the night

Yes I want to throw my arms around her

Kiss her hug her kiss her hug her tight

Welcoming warmth enveloping his body that cleaves into you. Baritone rough with emotions, “No I couldn’t pull the tigger, didn’t want to shoot some kid who’s stupidly following the orders of a man who doesn’t care about him.”

“Listen to me Javi you’re not Escobar you’ll never have that narcissistic attitude.” Turning his face to look at you, brushing the stubble with your fingertips. “Yes you’ve done some questionable things for good reasons to take down this asshole who would gladly see all of Columbia burn just to get and keep what he wants.” Leaning in to brush your nose against his, “I couldn’t love a man who killed people for kicks Javier. That’s not what you do. You save people, protect them as best you can.”

Unworthiness filtering through his thoughts never expecting to find someone who loved him faults and all. Intertwining his fingers with the hand previously on his cheek bring the back to his lips to place a kiss. “I don’t deserve you hermosa,” swallowing harshly letting your hand go to stand. Unconcerned with his nakedness Javier stretches popping his back then looking down at you.

Worry etched in those beloved eyes that stare unblinkingly at the spot he just vacated. “Leaving now?” Biting off the words tears clouding your vision mistaking his declaration as rejection pulling the blanket tighter around your plush body.

Forefinger and thumb pinching the end of your soft chin raising your gaze to meet his, “Why would I leave when everything I want and love rests with you.”

“Javier?” Voice wobbling with unshed tears.

Pulling the blanket from your body taking in the curves and dips, the softness he’s itching to get his hands back on. But right now Javier brings the nearest hand to his lips, brushing the knuckles with his mouth mustache tickling your skin. Keeping your eyes locked as he tugs you up into his arms. “I’m serious Y/N I don’t deserve you but without you I’m a shell of a man,” bringing his free hand up to cup your cheek deep russet eyes burning with love staring into yours.

“What are you saying?” Fear coating the words, afraid it’s all a dream and you’ll wake without Javier beside you.

Drawing your mouth closer, strong arm wrapping around your thick waist, “I’m saying I love you Y/N and if you’ll have me I’m yours till you kick me out for driving you crazy.”

“You already do that Javi,” watery giggles escaping your lips that brush his twice. Reaching up to card fingers through the soft strands at the back of his head tugging just a little harder than normal. “Say it again.”

Grunting at the tugs sliding a hand down to cup a generous bare ass cheek to give a squeeze. “Drive you crazy.”

Just barely holding in the squeak, “No,” eyes rolling at his cheek. “You know what I mean Javier Peña.”

“I do,” slotting his mouth against yours stealing the breath from your lungs as he kisses you with a passion never felt before. Barely breaking to mumble those three simple words into your lips, “I love you.” Getting lost in your kiss while silently vowing to never let you go or break your heart.

And when I'm returning from so far away

She gives me some sweet lovin' brighten up my day

Yes it makes me righteous, yes it makes me feel whole

Yes it makes me mellow down in to my soul

[my-darling-luna]

Your Majesty Chapter 3

Just a reminder that NONE of these gifs are in anyway supposed to represent what the reader looks like, I just use them for a basic look of the dress. I try to be as inclusive as I can be in my writing and if there is anyway that I can be more inclusive, I would love the feedback. Remember to take care of yourself today! I love you!!

Your Majesty Masterlist

Summary- It has been more than a decade since the Kingdom of Ultron lost their princess. (Y/n) was just a 17 year old that didn’t know much about her past. Realizations happen and lives are crossed. How will (Y/n) handle the new pressure?

Stucky x reader

—

“Murdered?” (Y/n) sat in astonishment. The people who cared for her almost all her life were dead. The hatred and disgust for them slowly washed away, leaving only despair and anger at Hydra.

The normal ride took a little under half the time than usual as the horses were no longer at a walk, but rather at a fast jog across enemy lines. The palace doors opened, Vision pulling a dazed (Y/n) along by the arm.

“How was it-” Tony’s face dropped at the sight of what was going on.

“Her caretakers were murdered and a clearly marked threat was on the wall.” Vision said to the king as Pepper pulled her step-daughter tightly into a hug.

“Vision, Rhodey, get everyone into the planning room. I want letters out to every main kingdom in the surrounding area mentioning the urgency for them to show up now.” The three men walked down a corridor and into a room, leaving the two women in the entry way alone.

“Why don’t we go see Morgan, okay? Maybe you can help her with reading.” Pepper’s hand ran up and down (Y/n)’s arm in a soothing way while walking her into the bedroom to the left of her parents’.

“Mommy! Sissy!” (Y/n) cooed at the little girl, sniffing the impending tears back.

“Hello sweetheart, what are you doing there?” (Y/n) sat down on the floor just as she had been taught; with her back straight and her legs crossed at the ankles. Morgan slowly walked over to her sister, her chubby arms held out to grab her cheeks.

“Why cryin’?” Morgan patted (Y/n)’s cheek.

“‘Cause I’m sad.”

“No be sad anymore.” Morgan threw herself into (Y/n)’s arms before pulling away after she got distracted by the colors of her blocks. (Y/n) dabbed away the tears away with a handkerchief so that her makeup wasn’t more messed up than it already was.

(Y/n) took a breath, her feelings were jumbled and her heart ached. It was her fault that her parents were dead. Parents, no that wasn’t right, they weren’t her real parents. Caretakers like Vision called them? No that was insensitive. Foster parents? She could do that. It was her fault that her foster parents were dead. She wanted to hate them so much for keeping her away from her family, but she couldn’t. What would she do if she was Mama or Papa? Would she keep a child away from their own family so that they could be with her? No.

Poking took (Y/n) out of her train of thought. Morgan held a book tight in her grasp while poking her older sister.

“Mommy told me that you would read to me.” (Y/n) smiled and nodded before getting up and sitting on the small toddler bed. Morgan scrambled in behind her and settled in between her legs.

“You ready, sweetheart?” Morgan nodded as (Y/n) opened the book so that both could read. “Once upon a time-”

***

The patter of the rain on the window was easy to lull (Y/n) into a day dream. She was clad in a thin white nightgown with her legs drawn in close to her stomach. Her arms traced the length of her calves absentmindedly.

A knock pierced the quiet room and (Y/n)’s head turned to greet the reason for the noise.

“May I come in?” Her father asked kindly, a mood that was only brought out by his children or Pepper. (Y/n) nodded and the door was closed. Tony sat down on the bed, his weight sinking the mattress. “I meant to ask you earlier, but I’ve been so busy with planning. How are you?” She shrugged.

“I’ve been worse, but I’ve definitely have felt better.” Tony rubbed his daughter’s hand before moving closer to her. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” (Y/n) paused for a second before nodding. 

“I...I just guess that I feel like a bad person.” She looked up at her father who gave her a questioning look. “I mean, I feel like I hate them sometimes, you know? They didn’t even try to send me back to you or anything even though they knew. But then I think about it and I realize that they took great care of me and loved me no matter how I acted.” (Y/n) sobbed, her words were broken off with hiccups at some points. “I hate them, but I love them and that makes me feel terrible.” Tony sighed and tried to make eye contact with his daughter who turned her head away.

Tony tilted his daughter’s head to look at him. “It’s okay to feel like that because I have.” She looked at him with a questioning look. “I haven’t told you much about my parents in the past week and a half that you’ve been with us, but my father- your grandfather- was the toughest person to live with and for the longest time, I resented him, almost hated him. He never seemed like he was proud of me and never showed me any love. I didn’t realize until I was older and he had passed away, that he just wanted the best for me; he just didn’t know how to show his love. And I know that your issues aren’t the same, but I also know that you loved them a lot. It’s okay and normal to feel some type of animosity towards them. You just need to realize that they needed you as much as you needed them at that point, and it doesn’t make it right, but it made them human.” (Y/n) nodded, her tears clearing up. 

“Thanks dad.” Tony’s eyes glossed over, but as quickly as it arrived, it disappeared. 

“No problem, okay?” (Y/n) nodded and he kissed her forehead. “Do you remember the party I talked about the morning after you came home?” She nodded. “Well all of the surrounding kingdoms are going to join us. It is scheduled in two days and it’ll be a good chance to meet some new people.” Tony’s confidence and smile were infectious and (Y/n) felt better after those words. “Now get up so we can have some breakfast together.” He left the room and soon Lillian came in and put her in a simple gown just for the day. 

***

“Can you see that, Morgan?” The little girl nodded and giggled at the sight of the horses out grazing the field. (Y/n) held the little girl on her hip before wrapping her arm around Morgan’s waist. 

“They fluffy!” Tony and Pepper watched the two from the inside of the castle. A window outlooked the barns and their two girls stood right outside of it. 

“They’re okay.” Pepper mumbled to her husband as she leaned into his side. Tony put his arm around her and gave a quick squeeze to their intertwined hands. 

“Yeah, I know. I guess I just get nervous sometimes, especially with everything with Hydra and (Y/n). I just feel like something bad is going to happen, you know?” Pepper hummed in agreement.

“We won’t let anything happen to them, you know that, don’t you? Our girls are safe.” 

“Mom? Dad?” (Y/n)’s voice called as soft patters of shoes were heard on the tile. Pepper and Tony turned around to see their daughters, Pepper’s heard warming every time (Y/n) called her ‘mom’.

“Yes sweetheart?” Pepper asked, her voice soft. 

“Morgan wants to go riding, I wanted to see if you wanted to as well.” The two adults looked at each other and nodded. 

“We’d love to, why don’t we go get changed and meet back here. You have Morgan under control?” (Y/n) nodded and smiled. 

“Let’s go get changed, bug.” (Y/n) mumbled to the little girl before walking down the corridor to both of their bedrooms. “Are you excited for tomorrow?” Morgan enthusiastically nodded, a twinkle in her brown eyes. “Good.”

***

“Good afternoon, (Y/n).” Lillian’s sweet voice echoed in the huge room as she shut the door. 

“Hello, Lillian.” Lillian watched as (Y/n) rifled through dresses to find the one that she wanted to wear for tonight. “What do you think of this one?” She held up a tan dress with flowers flowing up the skirt and the bodice.

“I think it’s really pretty.”

“Do you think it’s too much?” Lillian shook her head.

“I know that you’ve never went to one of your father’s parties before, but there’s no ‘too much’ there.” (Y/n) smiled back at Lillian.

“Deal. Okay, I think this is it.” Lillian helped her get into her dress. “Have you seen the ballroom yet?” (Y/n) asked, starting light conversation with someone who she would call a friend.

“Yes, it’s beautiful and I think you’re going to love it.” Lillian moved her over to the vanity and started to blot her skin with makeup.

“I don’t know,” she made eye contact with the girl behind her, “I think this is a little much for a girl who just got here.”

“I think it is enough for a lost princess that was found after sixteen years.” (Y/n) shrugged while Lillian finished the last of her makeup.

“Say hi to all the princes that you’ll meet there. They’re all super handsome.” Lillian wiggled her eyebrows which made the two laugh.

“I’ll make sure that they know who you are.” Lillian blushed, not thinking that (Y/n) would take it seriously.

“Good luck!” She called as (Y/n) walked out of the room.

“Thank you.” (Y/n) blew a kiss to her before walking down the hallway and over to where she was supposed to meet her parents and sister.

“You look wonderful, sweetheart.” Pepper kissed her daughter on the cheek and (Y/n) flushed.

“Thank you mom.” Tony kissed her cheek as well, whispering the same compliment to her. She was about to say thank you, but she was so distracted at the sight of her little sister. “You look beautiful, bug.” Morgan giggled. Her dress was a light pink with glitter tulle and a small tiara on her head.

“Thank you!” The four were distracted by the sound of the announcer saying her father’s, mother’s, and sister’s names out loud.

“Good luck, princess.” Tony squeezed his oldest’s hand before walking through the door with the rest of the family. (Y/n) stood by the door, waiting for it to open and for her name to be called.

“Princess (Y/n) of Ultron.” The announcer called and the huge oak doors opened. (Y/n) stepped out onto the balcony and looked down to all of the people below in the ballroom. Her hands were clasped loosely and her back was rigid as she listened to the clapping from down below. This was her new life.

—

Taglist- @austynparksandpizza @aikeia @simplyfandomish @baby-noodles​ @lili-ann-love​ @rebloggingeverything​ @spookyparadisesheep

[foodieforthoughts]

Sand and Stars - Chapter Five

Series Summary: After the water pump being blown up, the insurgents in Baqubah are taking a hold of the food supply to the village. Camp Warhorse is in dire need of reinforcements. It has been eight months of submitting countless requests when the High Command commissions Sergeant Olivia Ross to take her group of men and women and help Captain Syverson and his team to restore a semblance of normalcy. But with the war raging, does it get two hearts closer too?

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC x OMC

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: 18+, Mentions of war, military technicalities, slight angst, fluff, implied smut

A/N: Well Hello! Our dear Captain Alex has finally made an appearance! A big thank you to @thelastsock​ who is patiently beta-reading this, I love you woman with my whole heart.

<Chapter Four

Title: Chapter Five

The sun felt scorching hot on her skin as Olivia loaded her gun near the parked Humvees. A mild throbbing at the base of her skull added to the uncomfortable sensations each time she moved. She hadn’t planned to drink almost half a bottle of whiskey last night, but it was cold, and she needed the warmth.

Also, the drink had sort of been a gift from Sy.

Olivia groaned as the memories from last night flashed through her mind. She had literally invited him for a kiss, throwing herself on her Captain like a wanton whore. She felt embarrassed even thinking about it. Thankfully for her, Sy had a better judgement about entertaining drunk women and had resorted to just giving her a tight hug.

Her stomach felt queasy as a sour taste filled her mouth. She swallowed as the uncomfortable feeling set at the pit of her stomach. Running a hand over her sweat covered forehead, Olivia rested against the vehicle.

She felt worthless. Olivia couldn't shake the feeling of repeating history, despite the extreme effort of will she put her hungover mind to this time. She slung her gun over her shoulder as a distant memory of her time with Alex began flashing before her eyes.

The sound of their hurried footsteps on the marble floor echoed through the empty hall. It was almost noon, the temperature soaring high and drinks becoming difficult to keep down. Alex chuckled as Olivia pulled him towards a bathroom door, not caring whether it was for the ladies or the gents. She had been begging for Alex’s attention ever since they got to the wedding party for a fellow soldier, downing an unusual amount of alcohol before finally gathering up the courage to whisper naughty things in his ear. She had been hung over her Captain for far too long, it was time for her to finally taste him.

Olivia massaged her temple with her fingers. She had been so stupid and naïve to start something with Alex. Her Captain. She regretted it now more than ever, 3 years of hookups later. Alex had been her friend since she re-enlisted again after completing her Aviation course. Though to tell the truth she'd been crushing on him since she first laid eyes on his beautiful face. His unbridled confidence, panty-melting smile and boyish charm had worked its magic on Olivia’s mind. It wasn’t something she thought of pursuing on a long-term basis, but his sweet nature only kept driving her closer to him. She liked that he showered her with affection all the time, something her attention-starved mind craved desperately. Only she had mistaken her lust for love.

“Really? Here? You know our seniors are present out on the lawn.” Alex snickered as Olivia began undoing his belt. His blazing eyes sparkled with what was to come next, the anticipation dancing in his beautiful orbs. Dinners together had turned into overnight stays and eventually Olivia had kissed Alex one night, crossing the line of friendship with no turning back.

“We are on leave, aren’t we?” She had suggestively smiled at him, palming his bulge through his pants. She leaned in to kiss Alex, feeling the softness of his lips brushing against hers. She felt her arousal beginning to wet through the thin fabric of her panties as Alex plunged his tongue into the warm cavern of her mouth.

Olivia grinned mischievously as she hopped on the sink counter pulling Alex by his tie to stand between her legs. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he pulled her in to steal another kiss. She unzipped his pants as Alex began trailing down her neck, planting soft kisses over her warm skin and cupping her breast through her dress.

“I don’t have a condom,” Alex said against the skin peeking just above her breast.

“I’m on the pill,” she shrugged and pulled his hardening cock out of its constraints. It pulsated in her hand as she pumped him. Alex groaned into her soft skin and nipped at her in retaliation, making her hiss with pleasure. She bit her lip as she watched him take over his cock and enter her aching folds. Alex let out an unrestrained moan as her warmth enveloped his throbbing member.

“Happy birthday, little birdie.” Olivia blinked as Sy appeared in front of her, smiling from under his cap. He was dressed in his combat fatigues, the vest making him look bigger than he already was. “Hangover?”

Olivia shook her head, warmth spreading over her chest as the vivid memories registered in her mind. “Just…uh, regular headache.” She smiled at her Captain. Her eyes lingered on his, mesmerized yet again by the intensely blue orbs looking back at her. She noticed the freckles on his nose and his lip and the changing shade of brown of his beard as it travelled down his neck.

“Maybe later we can have some chai while we watch the sunset?” Sy leaned against the metal body of the Humvee, one hand resting low on his hip.

Olivia tilted her head to the side and raised her eyebrow. “Sunset? You do realize I fly a chopper for a living? I’ve seen my fair share of sunsets and sunrises by now.”

“But you haven’t seen a sunset with me.” A smirk formed on Sy’s lips, challenging her for another excuse.

Olivia felt a flutter in the pit of her belly and her mouth opened as she was rendered speechless. She felt herself balancing over the same dangerously thin line again. In a weird sense, this didn’t feel the same for her like it was with Alex. With him she had felt a rush of becoming reckless, but with Sy she wanted to be cautious, mindful. When he had kissed her forehead last night and embraced her, she had never felt more safe in the world like she did in that moment.

“Okay.” She nodded, “Rooftop like last night?” Olivia suggested as her unit members began getting into the Humvees, ready to head out. Sy tipped his cap in confirmation before walking towards his own team and barking orders to mount up.

Out in the desert, Olivia spent the rest of her day interacting with the locals and listening to their problems. She was following Lieutenant Pepps's orders about sympathizing with the public, to ensure they get local support in the future. As she listened to a weeping woman complain about the scarcity of food, her mind drifted back to a memory with Alex.

“What changed, Liv?” Alex pulled at her wrist, turning her around to face him. Olivia yanked at his hold, trying to free herself from his grasp. “Don’t you love me anymore?”

“Alex,” She pleaded, closing her eyes to escape this conversation. She had spent time in Afghanistan and the things she’d seen had changed her. She had seen the fragile nature of life and understood it was useless to be wasting her precious years on someone she only cared about as a friend.

“Tell me, Liv.” His voice was laced with anger, his eyes burning with hatred. “Tell me you don’t love me so that I can remove myself from your life. Because I can’t be your friend, not after all this.” He let go of her hand, slumping his shoulders as his eyes misted with tears and he fell on his knees.

Liv felt the weight of her actions crumbling her down in front of him. She never intended to hurt him, but she couldn’t love him, at least not the way he wanted her to. The possibility of losing her friend forever made her emotions win over her determination to end things with him. “I’m sorry, Alex. I’ll do better. I’m so sorry.”

Olivia sighed as she watched the sun slowly drift towards the horizon casting an orange hue over the sky. She had never gathered the courage to break things with Alex again. He had tried labelling them in a relationship, but she had avoided the topic like the plague. Their arrangement worked as they were deployed to different locations which gave her time away from him, only forcing her to pretend when they were on leave together. She grasped the Saint Christopher medal lying against her chest in her hand and felt the consequences of her actions pricking at her heart.

“Hey,” Sy called out from the doorstep leading out on the roof. He had a canteen in one hand and two cups in another. Liv had walked up to the roof as soon as they had returned to base. The parked white truck had indicated that Sy was back too but since there still had been time until sunset, she had decided to wait out alone on the roof.

“Hey,” she cleared her throat, shaking her head to ward away thoughts about Alex. She smiled weakly at Sy and walked towards him.

Sy frowned with his eyebrows scrunching together. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Did Mahmoud make the chai for us?” She changed the subject, sitting on the pile of sandbags against a wall.

“No, I did.” Sy proudly informed as he took a seat beside her.

Olivia watched as Sy poured the steaming cardamom tea in the cups and handed one to her. She breathed in the aroma before taking a sip of the hot liquid. “Incredible. When did you learn to make chai?”

“Picked up the recipe over the years.” He shrugged his shoulders, but Olivia noticed his chest puff up with pride on getting complimented on his acquired skill. Sy turned to face towards the expanse of the desert beyond the compound, silently sipping his tea.

“Captain Syverson, man of many talents.” She said in a sing-song voice and leaned back against the wall, bringing her knees up to her chest and holding her cup with both her hands.

Liv watched as Sy chuckled, his shoulders shaking with his laughter. The hair of his beard over his upper lip glistened with steam caught in it, almost urging her to wipe her hand over his mouth.

“You are staring, little birdie.” He looked at her sideways, his lips curling at the corners.

Liv rolled her eyes, but her mouth twitched with a smile forming on them. “What’s with the nickname?”

“Well you fly the Little Bird, so that makes you little Birdie.”

She laughed as he finished his sentence, looking at him to see if he was joking. “How original, Sy.” She shook her head dismissively, but a fluttery feeling settled in her heart.

“Hey, I didn’t want to call you by the names everyone used.” He defended himself, feigning hurt dramatically by clutching his left pec over his heart.

Liv continued to laugh thinking about the silly reason behind the nickname, but adding it to the list of names she already had. They sat in silence, enjoying their tea as they watched the sun dipping down the horizon with every passing minute. The sky burst into a mixed palette of orange and purple, the clouds drifting away with the wind.

She felt Sy’s eyes on her as she sipped the remnants of tea from her cup. She bit her lip feeling mischievous and commented, “You’re staring, Captain.” She tilted her head to look at him, only to feel her breath hitch as she stared into his cerulean eyes. Sy had the softest look on his face, his smile barely visible from under the bush of his beard.

“What?” She asked, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“Who’s Captain Coop?”

His question caught Olivia off-guard and she blinked several times to understand that Sy had indeed asked about Alex. “Wh-what?” She tried to not stumble over her words but Sy had left her stunned.

“Yesterday, they were teasing you with his name. I just thought I should ask.” Sy’s gaze never left her face, even when he placed his cup to the side along with hers and the empty canteen.

Liv let out a slow, ragged breath. The mention of Alex’s nickname had her heart racing, her mind going through a carousel of his memories. “He was our captain, before you. My men...they were just… fooling around.” She plucked a jute strand from the sandbag she was sitting on, avoiding Sy’s stare.

She felt him shift on the bag and when she peered, she noticed him coming to stand in front of her. Liv looked up at him as his body loomed over hers. He bent down so as his face was right in front of her.

“So, you’re saying, I don’t have to worry about another man in your life?” His voice was low, and his breath felt warm against her skin.

“N-no. Why?” She gulped as her throat became dry. She watched as Sy licked his lips wet and smiled at her.

“Because I am going to kiss you and I ain’t gonna kiss some other man’s girl.” Sy whispered and waited for her to answer. A slight nod of her head was all he needed as he brought his lips down on hers, placing a soft and gentle kiss over her desirous lips.

Liv closed her eyes as the feeling of his lips sent sparks down her spine. The coarse hairs of his beard grazed against her face as she moved her lips against his. Sy placed his hand over her cheeks as he moved his lips with hers, darting his tongue out seeking permission to enter. She grabbed a hold of his t-shirt and another at the nape of his neck and pulled him closer to her and opened her mouth slightly to grant him access.

The minutes felt like they stretched into hours as Sy’s tongue danced against hers. She could taste the faint taste of cardamom on his tongue and breathe in his musky scent as she willingly deprived herself of oxygen. Panting as their lungs struggled to take in air, Sy let go of her with a last pull on her bottom lip.

When Olivia opened her eyes, the sun had set beyond the horizon and darkness was falling over the desert. Sy let out a slow breath as he grazed his knuckles over her cheek. She felt herself leaning in his touch as her breathing came back to normal.

“Sunsets and kisses, aren’t you a romantic Syverson?” She teased, biting her lower lip between her teeth.

Sy chuckled. “Told you our first kiss would be memorable.” Sy shrugged his shoulders with a cheeky smile, before pulling Liv up for another breathtaking kiss.

Chapter Six>

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[crescentmoons-and-stardust]

The Broken Hearts Hotel

Chapter One: Star-Crossed

I’ve had many names over the years. I don’t even remember my original name so I’ll use the most popular one. The one everyone recognizes. 

Juliet is my name and fair Verona is where I’m from (in this version, at least). My age is disputable but I remember I was young. Too young for what I experienced. It blows my mind that some can even consider my tale a romance when I think about it. My life was cushy, I’ll admit. My family was rich and influential. I didn’t want for anything growing up. Looking back I realize I had the perfect life but hindsight is twenty twenty. 

Maybe that’s why I did what I did though. I was a spoiled, bored teenager. I needed excitement in my life.

Rosalina was considered the beauty of the family. She was a few years older than me and was totally stuck up. Always surrounded by a group of friends, my older cousin had no time for little ole me. Actually, no one really had time for me. My other cousin Tybalt had an older brother protectiveness of me but other than that he left me alone. My dearest (and truthfully, only) friend was my nurse. For the record, her name was Bianca. That’s usually left out.

Bianca was my friend and surrogate mother since my own couldn’t bother herself with parenting. Bianca was old fashioned. We’d spend our time doing needlepoint and reading the bible. Like I said, I was a bored teenager.

So when I was finally allowed to attend one of our grand masquerade parties, I was thrilled. Bianca sewed me a gorgeous dress, though the neckline was a little too modest for my taste. I spent hours at the market trying to find the perfect mask. I finally decided on a dainty red and gold mask lined with pearls. I was going all out for my first masquerade. 

I could barely sleep the night beforehand. I was so excited. I had my hair done and was dressed hours before the party started. I’m not going to lie, when I looked in the mirror, I was blown away by how I looked. I finally looked like a woman, and a beautiful one at that.

The party was both amazing and overwhelming. There were so many people that I had to greet and so many men to dance with. But one man in particular caught my eye.

So I should probably back up here and talk about the rivalry that has plagued my story for centuries. Montagues and Capults have hated each other since God knows when. It goes back years, maybe even decades. What was the issue? No one knows. Isn’t it ironic? Isn’t it poetic? 

Let’s be real, it’s stupid. And I’m sure the original reason for the hatred between my family and his was stupid as well. The rivalry was well known throughout the town. I can only assume everyone else rolled their eyes when it was brought up.

Anyway, back to the party. Romeo caught my eye from across the room. Was it love at first sight? I thought so but what did I know? I’d never been in love before. But there he was looking as handsome as a prince. And he was staring at me in much the same way. I blushed and broke eye contact first. Suddenly I was filled with panic and I slipped out into the garden. He followed me a moment after. 

“My lady,” He bowed to me. Actually bowed. How could I resist that? “My name is Romeo.”

“Nice to meet you Romeo,” I murmured. I was going for demure but it came out as a squeak. He took my hand and kissed it in greeting. I could have melted into a puddle on the floor. Embarrassing, I know, but this was the first man to interact with me outside of family. I didn’t know at the time that he had originally been there for Rosalina. Or that he fell in love with a different girl each week, I just knew that there was a handsome man before me. Me. Boring, good mannered, Juliet.

Well it wasn’t long before we were in the garden kissing until my lips went numb. Unfortunately my absence was noted and Tybalt came searching for me. Not only did he ruin my first kiss but he made such a scene that Romeo was soon kicked out of the party. 

I was sent to my room at once where I wallowed in despair. Would I ever see my beloved Romeo again? Well I didn’t have to wait for very long for my answer. Romeo scaled the wall and invited himself into my room and not long after, my bed.

It was wonderful and scary and thrilling all at once. The things he whispered in my ear, the lengths he promised to go for me. It’s no wonder I thought myself in love with him. And for that night, everything was perfect. 

It all fell apart pretty quickly though. Romeo got a little too hot headed in the streets and killed my cousin. You think that would end any romantic feelings on my part but I was young and stupid. Tybalt started it anyway! He killed Romeo’s best friend first. Romeo was just a loyal friend. It was sweet, really.

That’s what I told myself. Not my proudest moment, I’ll admit. And then Romeo had to go into hiding. You see, they didn’t know it had been Romeo who killed Tybalt. The fight happened late at night and the only other witness, Mercruito, was already dead. So he left his body and fled to my bedroom to stash the murder weapon. He needed to leave town but he promised he’d come back. And I promised to wait. And I did. For months. He took an apprenticeship a few villages over while he waited for someone else to take the blame for Tybalt’s death. So I wrote him love letters that I never sent. I kept my window unlocked every night. I waited and prayed and yearned. And then I met Paris.

Paris was not nearly as handsome as Romeo but he was still an attractive man. While Romeo was flirtatious and suave, Paris was charming and gentle. He was a sweet man and if I hadn’t met Romeo, I think I would have been ecstatic when my mother announced our engagement. 

We would have been happy together. I realize that now, but then all I thought of was my Romeo. I had a sweet spot for Paris and that only caused guilt when I remembered that I had already promised myself to another. Romeo was my true love. How could I ever think I’d be happy with another?

The timing of Romeo’s return couldn’t have been more perfect, almost as if he planned it like that. He had heard about the engagement. He raged and he sobbed as he asked if I was going to abandon him so easily. He’d die for me, he said. Would I be willing to do the same?

I would. And I did. With a special tonic I would fake my death and then Romeo would come get me from my family’s crypt. He’d whisk me away and we would start a new life together. I believed him and I think he believed himself as well. But it’s like I said earlier, Romeo was quick to fall in love. 

So when the tonic was finally ready I drank it quickly before I could change my mind. My thoughts slowed and my vision blurred. I became sluggish and panicked as the tonic slowed my heart rate. I tried to make it to my bed but I think I may have lost consciousness before I could. I heard shouts as my world went black.

When I woke, my body ached. I was lying on a stone slab in a thin dress that did not keep out the cold. As my thoughts returned to me, I looked around and there was my Romeo waiting for me. I gave a weak smile that he did not return. Instead, he could not meet my eye and was fidgeting nervously.

“I think we’ve made a mistake,” He said at last. My thoughts were still confused so I did not respond. 

“It was a fantasy to think we should run away together,” He continued.

“What are you saying?” I asked but I already knew. He was not going to start a new life with me. 

“Perhaps you should marry Paris instead.” And then I knew. He had met someone else. He did not love me, he never did. This was all a game to him and it had finally gone too far.

“I gave up everything for you!” I cried. He shrugged and told me I wasn’t actually dead. I could return home to my family’s rejoice and it would be like nothing had changed. But things had changed. My heart was broken as the man who’d asked me to die for him had already moved on.

And suddenly I was angry. A burning white hatred bloomed inside me. I wanted him to suffer the way I had while he had been gone. How hopeless and sad I’d been. The happiness I’d felt when he returned was now being ripped away from me. I’d done all he had asked. I’d waited and was going to give up my entire life for him.

It was stupid to remind him of Tybalt. That I could tell everyone what he had done. I had the murder weapon after all, still rusted with my cousin’s blood. Romeo’s face paled as he tried to calm me. The more he tried, the angrier I became until we were both yelling.

I didn’t even see the knife he had until I felt it thrust up inside of me. He looked as shocked as I felt as we both realized what he had done. But then just as quickly, the shock vanished from his face as determined resolve replaced it. He stabbed me over and over again until my white dress was no longer white and the blood was pooling onto the floor. He laid me down gently, as gently as he had done when he shared my bed. He whispered sweet nothings in my ear that I tried not to hear. His tears that dripped down onto me only made me angrier and with my last strength I tried to push him away.

Blackness. Then light. Then the Broken Hearts Hotel. 

My story, as twisted and retold as it has now become, is the greatest romantic tragedy of all time. And I couldn’t be any more furious about it.