#then have it slammed to the ground by tears and pain

[pedroshotwifey]

To the Flame chapter fourteen

Series masterlist

Pairing: Dark!Javier Peña x afab!reader

Chapter w/c: 2.7k

Chapter warnings: physical abuse, manipulation, mental abuse, Javi being a dick, toxic relationship, alcohol consumption, mild description of injury, mentions of noncon, emotional distress, anxiety attacks, this is fucked, please just go in with caution

Chapter Summary: Is this the beginning of the end?

A/N: hey, y’all! Another chapter that hits pretty close to home for me, as I’m sure a lot of the upcoming ones will. A lot of emotions in this one! Please always remember that I am here for anyone who would like to talk ❤️

*****

You don’t get out of bed for the majority of the next day. 

When you first wake, you feel like you’re being crushed by an overwhelming weight of emotion. It pushes you down and strips you until you’re bare and gasping for air, making you writhe and whimper in pain. And then it just stops. And you don’t feel sad, or scared, or anything else. Just void and numb. Like your body isn’t yours and your mind is in a far away place that you don’t dare attempt to reach.

The curtains are down, leaving the bedroom a dark and quiet place. Perfect to lay in bed, unfeeling and alone. It gives you nothing to focus on, so you instead hone in on the stickiness of your wet cheeks and the throbbing of your sore eyes. The sensation of your crumbling heart, though, you push it far, far away and leave it to rest. 

It’s Monday, so you know Javi’s gone to work, but you have no idea what time it is. You don’t want to get up to look, and you don’t want to think about your husband. Fuck, your husband. Tears sting your eyes and start to overflow, but you’re not consciously doing it. It’s like your very soul is confused and is causing your body to react in every way you wish it wouldn’t. At the thought of him, the uncomfortable ache between your legs makes itself known. It fucking hurts and it makes you feel pathetic, though you don’t understand why. You just know that there's an underlying feeling of shame crawling uncomfortably beneath your skin.

You want to wash it away—all the shame and hurt and confusion you won’t allow to surface. You want to get in the shower and scrub your skin until it burns. You want to drown his scent, his touch, the memory of his hands, his body on top of yours. But you don’t, you can’t. You can’t move from the place you’re already drowning in. 

You lay in the dark and silently sob, not doing anything to wipe the tears as they run down into your hairline because you know that there will just be more. You cry until your eyes hurt and your breathing starts to smooth out again, until you’re lulled back asleep by the wracks of your body. It feels like a cruel trick from the darkness, but you let it take you willingly. Anything to escape this nightmarish reality. 

It’s probably only a couple of hours later when you wake up again to the silence. But this time, the first thing out of your mouth is a frustrated and strangled sob. Anger warms your entire body as you throw the blanket off without thinking. You’re not really sure where the aggression comes from or what it’s directed to, so you just blame it on yourself for being weak. For waking up and crying and giving up. You want to kick yourself and tell yourself to just suck it the fuck up. 

But you can’t, so you instead slam the bedroom door open and stomp into the kitchen. Another heave leaves your lips as you enter the threshold, this one closer to a scream as tears escape you and your stomach twists painfully at the reminder of last night. Your knees give out, leaving you to sink down onto the freshly tiled floor. You soak in your anger and your hatred, and it’s unlike anything you’ve felt before. It fully consumes you, making you tremble with the force of it and your teeth grind as you try and fail to bite it down.

Your hands come up and thread through your hair, pulling tightly and close to the base, but more to ground you than to pull any strands out. You can’t fall into a panic attack here, you may not come out. Javi’s the only one who can save you from that, and he’s not here. You give yourself two minutes to collect yourself, though you’re still not all the way there as you force yourself up and push toward the medicine drawer. 

With rough movements, you pull it open, snatch up the melatonin, and shakily pour four tablets into your palm. You shove them into your mouth and swallow them dry, wanting them to kick in as soon as possible. You start to screw the lid back on, but it doesn’t thread right, and you make a sound of frustration again as you say ‘fuck it’ and just shove it back onto the counter, pills spilling all over the place. You go straight back to bed, pulling the blanket up and letting yourself cry back to sleep. 

The third time, you wake in a panic, your body shaking in an aggressive and unnatural way. Your eyes snap open and find that the light is turned on, and it’s only once you feel a harsh grip on both of your arms that you comprehend someone shaking you awake. Your first instinct is to push back on the bed, struggling to get away, but the hold gets tighter as the person yells something that you can’t understand yet in your current state.

“How many did you fucking take?” Javi demands, his face coming close to yours. Tears are already leaking from your eyes as you meet his gaze, your voice stuck in your throat. You wish they would go away. It seems like it’s impossible to be awake without them accompanying you. 

“W-What?” you manage to squeeze out. He’s stopped shaking you, but he looks angry. No, not just angry, you realize as your heart contracts painfully in your chest. He looks scared.

“The pills, how many did you fucking take?” 

Your head just shakes as you try to catch up. 

“How fucking many?” He does jolt you this time, bringing you even closer. He starts to drag you off of the bed, and his fingers dig in so hard that they hurt. You yelp and jump up, trying to ease the strain. It only hits you once your feet hit the ground, what he could possibly be talking about. 

“F-Four!” you spit. “I took four!” 

He stops talking but his jaw stays set as he looks you up and down like he’s both assessing your well-being and deciding something detrimental. Your lip trembles as he looks into your eyes, and you know that the only reason you’re standing right now is because of the support of his rough hands. But you still try to back away as he brings you closer and embraces you. But it doesn’t feel right. Whereas your body used to fit together with his, it’s now like something chipped away, leaving a jagged gap. It feels so fucking wrong. 

You let him hold you for a moment before you speak. And when you do, you’re not quite sure where it comes from. You think that the words were bouncing around in your head, but you didn’t want to actually say them, you didn’t try. But they come out—quiet and trembling—but they do. 

“Let me go.” It’s spoken almost incoherently into his chest, but he goes still all the same. He doesn’t attempt to loosen his grip. 

“Javi,” you say, more confident than you figured it would be. You think it might be the anger coming forward and holding you up, lifting your voice higher. “Let me go.” 

He loosens up slowly, but keeps you in his grasp as he steps back just enough to look into your wet eyes. “What did you just say to me?” 

Anger bubbles up even more, causing you to boil over. 

“I said let me the fuck go,” you seethe, matching his firey gaze. You pull one arm away from him and he snatches you back quicker than you can blink. You’re flipped onto your stomach and your front half is pinned to the bed in a flash. 

“Let me fucking go!” you yell and thrash, fear creeping up alongside your fury. Javi’s heavy body covers yours, his grunt spilling into your ear as he uses all his weight to keep you between him and the mattress, defenseless and unable to move. The more you squirm, the tighter he holds you, his grip crushing to the point where you cry out in pain. 

He doesn’t relent until you stop struggling, and instead lay there and pant like a feral dog being forced down for a shot. His chest heaves against your back from his efforts as his hot breath fans across the side of your face. You smell a faint tinge of alcohol, but you don’t think it’s much. He must have not been home for too long. Maybe just enough for one or two beers before he saw the pills or grew curious about your absence.

“There’s something you need to understand, sweetheart,” he says quietly and so calmly that it sends a shiver down your sweaty spine. He waits to make sure you don’t have anything to say before he continues. “I’m in charge here, and you need to get that inside your dumb little head.” 

Your stomach drops with dread, your eyelids fluttering as you resist the urge to close them. Whatever part of your heart that hadn’t cracked and bruised within the last few weeks, just fell apart. You’re overcome by a sudden surge of grief, the only thing racing through your mind just keeps repeating to you that your husband is gone, lost for good. You’re alone and you’ll never see him again. Your body trembles, and Javi must recognize it as submission. 

“Everything I do is for you, whether you like it or not,” he growls. “You need to start showing some fucking respect about it.” 

You both lay there for a while, and it’s like you’re seeing it from the outside. A scared woman being pulled apart from the inside by the shell of the man who once gave her everything. She doesn’t know where he went, nor what happened for him to leave, but she knows that she’ll, too, never be the same. 

When Javi gets back up, you stay exactly where he left you. You’re not crying anymore, but you think it’s because you’re finally out of tears. Come to think of it, you don’t remember the last time you drank something. Your body is probably incredibly dehydrated. 

“I’m going to make dinner,” Javi tells you from the doorway. “Get yourself together and be at the table in half an hour.” 

You nod shallowly into the mattress, not looking at him, not looking at anything as he walks away. You don’t wait long before you numbly drag yourself into the shower, locking the bathroom door for the first time since you’ve been living with Javi. You strip, avoiding the mirror, and then crawl into the shower and just sit in the hot stream for a moment. It’s almost a little too hot, but you don’t pay too much attention to it. 

All of your energy goes into clearing your mind. You don’t want to fucking think, you just want it to stop. You let the water wash it all away; the grief, the fear, the ache, the sadness, the pain, the lingering hope and happiness that doesn’t seem to get the hint that it’s no longer welcome here. 

The next thing you now, you’re back out of the shower, your hair and body scrubbed clean. You’re towelling your wet breasts off, trying not to think about anybody else's hands on them. You never want to be touched again, now that your body has been tainted and defiled. You feel broken and disgusting. 

You jump when the doorknob rattles, your heart racing as you clutch the towel close to you. There’s a quiet sigh and then a gentle knock from the other side. 

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” 

Your legs wobble as your vision blurs. He sounds so normal that it fucking kills you. He sounds like your husband, caring and concerned. You forget to answer, stuck all alone inside your head. 

“Sweetheart?” No response comes from your lips. “I’m coming in,” he tells you. And you don’t protest, because that hope that you’d tried so hard to scrub away has somehow lingered and clung to your battered heart. 

The door starts to unlock and slowly open, and you take a step back to make room. When it’s open all the way, you catch the eyes of your husband standing in the doorway. He watches you with sympathy and something you clock as regret. He opens his arms and gives you a barely-there smile. It doesn’t reach his sad eyes, but it conveys what he’s trying to say. I’m sorry, please forgive me.

You bolt forward, immediately sobbing into his chest as he wraps his arms around you. You want to hate yourself for how quickly you give in, but you can’t. A different person, you tell yourself. You soak up the attention he’s giving you, relief flooding your very bones as you accept his embrace. His chin comes down to rest on your head as he holds you tightly and shushes you. 

“I know, baby,” he whispers. “I know.” 

He pets your hair and brings you into the bedroom, helping you sit down on the bed as you sniffle and attempt to dry your tears. He goes to the dresser and then comes back with one of his T-shirts and a pair of your underwear and pajama shorts. You calm down as you stand and let him dress you, savoring the calmness that’s filled the air. 

When you’re dressed, he leads you into the kitchen, where he has what smells like chicken noodle soup warming on the stovetop. You sit down at the table as he makes you a bowl and brings it over to you along with a glass of water, of which you quickly gulp down half of. Your mouth waters at the smell, your empty stomach grumbling. He hands you your spoon, places a kiss to the top of your head, and takes the seat across from you. 

You eat in silence, allowing yourself to sink back into your body. The soup warms you and you find it easier to relax. The meal is spent in a comfortable silence, and Javi waits for you to finish your bowl before he talks again. 

“I invited Steve and Connie for dinner next weekend.” 

Your eyes widen in surprise. You’d thought he didn’t like them. 

“Do you think you could make dinner Sunday night? I can pick something up, but I think they’d both be lucky to try your cooking,” he winks at you, a smile playing at his lips. 

Your cheeks heat slightly and you avoid his gaze as you smile as well, pride swelling in your chest. “Yeah, I can do that,” you tell him. “What would you like?” 

“Whatever you feel like, sweetheart.” 

You nod and get up to get another small bowl of soup. When you turn back to the table, he motions for you to come toward him. 

“C’mere, baby,” he pleads, pushing his chair out so you have room to sit on his lap. Your heart jumps to your throat out of reflex, but you walk toward him anyway, trying to quell your anxiety as you lower yourself on to him. He waits for you to get comfortable, your legs dangling off of one side of his lap. He nuzzles his face into your cheek as his hand grips your waist, and your breath hitches. 

“I hope you forgive me for earlier, baby,” he whispers. “I know I was rough. I was just so scared.” 

You lean back slightly to look at him, at the vulnerability in his eyes. You don’t even think about what happened in the bedroom as you tell him, “It’s okay, Javi. I forgive you.” You give him a weak smile and cup one side of his jaw, stroking the light stubble there. 

“I meant it, though,” he says gently. “I’ll always do what’s best for you, and I’m sorry if you don’t like that sometimes.” 

You swallow, ignoring the lump in your throat as you nod. “It’s okay,” you assure him, though your voice is barely even a whisper. You hold as still as you can as Javi leans forward and presses a barely-there kiss to your lips. He doesn’t linger, and a part of you is extremely thankful for that. 

“Alright, baby,” he says, his lips tickling your jaw. “Go ahead and finish your soup.” 

You nod and pick up your spoon. 

******

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[gigisdoll]

CW: nonconᯓ★dubcon, bullying, g!p, degradation,dacryphillia, manipulation, pretty unhealthy relationships... , barely any dayeon </3, somnophillia, fingering.

PAIRINGS: harin x reader, dayeon x reader

WC: 2743

NOTES; wsg gang!! lil drabble for that anon!!

During the whole time you've been in class 5, you never went above grade D. Resulting in you getting, well, bullied. Grade F's are ridiculed, and you and Jaeun just so happen to be in grade F. You tried protecting Jaeun, begging all Dayeon, Wooyi, Harin and etcetera to leave her alone and deal all the punches towards you. But of course most wouldn't listen, you'd find yourself often tending to the bruises or mental marks Dayeon or Harin would leave on poor ole' Jaeun. You go along with Jaeun in not participating in the pyramid game, you deleted the app long ago so you wouldn't even have access to the voting system.

you were Dayeon's main target to bully, you were much less cooperative than Jaeun, making the 'chase' fun. she doesn't like when Seol ah is there to kick your ass as well, she thinks you and her have much better 'chemistry' than you and seol ah. And that whenever Dayeon and you were alone was much more special than when Wooyi is annoyingly laugh at your miserable state, or Seol ah continuously beat you down. Dayeon's whistle rang through your ear behind you "Y/n-ah, don't you think you've been abit neglectful? " Dayeon pouted after kicking the back of your legs causing you to fall hard to the ground "Hope that didn't bruise... " Dayeon smiled once again, you've been ignoring her tries to either annoy or bully you for days now. Her anger building up for days now, you were unable to ignore this. You hissed as the pain finally settled in, bringing your knees up to sooth the pain inflicted towards them. "Aww, did i hurt you? " Dayeon said sarcastically, rubbing the back of your knee, and suddenly gripping your thigh causing you to whimper and your eyes to blur with small tears, that started to drip down on ur cheeks, ur cheeks flushing as well, making them slightly red "Y/n-ah, you look so cute like this you know? "

Dayeon's hands are slipping up ur skirt and inching towards ur cunt " I missed this so much, i bet you missed this more than me" she smirked as her index and middle finger slid up and down "I bet you're wet, fucking painslut." her finger hooked the top of your panties, taking them off swiftly making you squeal. 'Course you wanted her to stop, it was barely 15 minutes before the bell rang, but you can't stop a grade A, you're a mere grade F. If you did stop her, worse would happen, so you allow her fingers in, you allow her inside of your cunt. "Fuck you're always so tight, you're loving this aren't you?" your slick covered her tip, allowing it to squeeze in easily along with the rest of her length. She laid you on the ground of the locked classroom, thrusting all of herself inside of you, resulting in you gasping in both pain and pleasure; more on pain. Nonetheless you tightened around her cock, causing her to moan as she pounded inside of you "Gosh- y/n-ah, how....are you always so-so tight? " you felt lightheaded, your mind was fuzzy, and your vision was clouded. All you could kind of coherently feel or hear was Dayeon's cock, and words, her words encouraging your tears as her cock slammed in and out of you. "Cant you speak? fucking whore. Too fucked out now aren't you? " all you could do was nod, the only words coming out of your mouth were small thank you's and cries for more "You wan' more? huh? beg harder and maybe i will" she smirked once more as her cock throbbed and throbbed inside of you as your cunt tightened again. "Please- please! i wan- i want more! dayeon please.. " you whined loudly as she started pounding faster and harder.

Her desperate thrusting was met with your hips which at this point had a mind of its own, as they tried to meet her thrusts. Her groans and gasps increased as her speed quickened as well. Your hands grasped Dayeon's hands, as her hips stopped and dug her cock deeper inside of you as her cum spurted out inside of You. You were left breathless and overstimulated as Dayeon cleaned herself up and left the locked classroom. You sat yourself up and put ur panties back on shamefully, grabbing your backpack and walking out in a disheveled state. You walked straight to the bathroom, hoping it wouldn't be hard to make your hair look decent enough to not look funky. After fixing yourself up, you walked out of the bathroom and went to your classroom, putting faith in the fact that the bell didn't ring during... Your uhm 'talk' with Dayeon.

"Y/n! " Jaehyung said, walking up to you "You look... worse than usual... not saying you look bad normally at all! It's just you look a bit unkempt... was it Dayeon? " you nod, not wanting her to ask why. She just nodded and gave a thumbs up before grabbing you and pulling you to the rest of the friend group. "Let's go to the convenience store after school, i need to discuss some things with you guys, okay? " Suji told the 3 of you, texting Yelim the information. Your homeroom teacher came in as the chatter and laughter of the students quiet down "Students, please sit and settle down there is some news to share" he waited for all of you to go sit on your respective chairs, and hush down " Thank you, I will inform all of you again that there will be a class field trip tomorrow, please if you haven't already ask your parents for consent. " the class erupted in gasps, and conversations. "Again please settle down since your first class will start shortly, oh and also y/n? you're being called to the principal's office... please be there" he left after saying that as your classmates start gossiping about why you were called.

you walked to the office steadily, but anxiously as well. what reason does the principal need you for? you fidget with your fingers, hoping it wasn't anything about your scholarship. "y/n! " harin smiled, but there was something wrong, something underneath that smile that'll tear you up to bits "harin... where's the principal? " harin slightly widened her smile "i called you silly! what? did you think it was something about your scholarship? " she slowly walked towards you menacingly, her finger lifting slowly "why do you think i called you here? " "if-if this is something about jaeun i wont answer. " "it's nothing about jaeun, it's about you y/n-ah" she looked psychotic, her eyes looking into yours "y/n-ah, have you... been messing with kim dayeon? " your eyes widened, how did she find out? why would... she want to? "look y/n. don't lie to me, dayeon brags about you, all, the fucking time. that you feel so tight. or that you never, say no. " harin grips your hand harshly causing you to hiss and try to pull it back.

"don't you dare try to escape this y/n, don't you think i deserve to try you a little? out of all people? " she tilted her head slightly. your eyes glisten hoping you won't need to do this again " y/n, do you want me to tell the chairwoman you got fucked by dayeon on school premises... with no shame? " "no! no! harin please! i promise i'll do anything! just.. don't do that! " you couldn't afford to lose this scholarship. harin knew that, and she loved the superiority she felt blackmailing you. "don't you want me to be happy? or do you want me to suffer? " your heart breaks when even thinking about harin being sad, because of you nonetheless. "no! i don't, i didn't mean it harin! whatever you want to make you happy... even if it's, this... " harin smirked at your submission, your weakness was always one she used. your caring nature backfires severely when it comes to harin "i knew you wanted this. " smiling, her hands dropped down to your skirt, "i've been... waiting for so long y/n-ah, you care for me so much, your willing to give up your dignity just so i'm happy? " her smile this time was genuine, the way you submitted so easily into her turned her on. the fact you'd give up your integrity showed you definitely wanted this.

"y/n-ah... suck my cock, will you? " the request shocked you, her hands pushing you down onto the floor as she looked at you with a playful smile, as if she was just gonna play with you... well she was, just in a different way! "didn't you hear me? suck my dick y/n. dont make me fucking wait. " she said, authority lacing her already harsh tone. she lifted her skirt, her cock protruding through her panties "go on. don't be shy, i know you've done this before" her degrading words making you blush as you took off her panties, her cock slapping your face with pre-cum. she shoved her cock down your throat when u opened your mouth to gasp about the length. her hands were around your head, and her teeth bit her bottom lip as your head was forcefully bobbed up and down. her stomach twitched up and down as her head leaned back up, her mouth slowly opening. "fuck- y/n- did dayeon teach you well? huh? " her stomach flexed as her dick throbbed in your mouth "hah- fuck" a slew of her cum came straight down your throat, your eyes watered as you tried gasping for air. "swallow all i give you y/n." she said sternly, making sure not even a drop comes out of your mouth. "get up, lay down on the couch. "you looked almost dumbfounded, she wasn't done with you? " did you think i'm done with you? i'm not like dayeon, i don't last just a round y/n."

your panties were wet and slick, harin smirked "did sucking my cock make you wet? fucking cockwhore. " your panties were ripped away from you. harin's cock head met your entrance, bullying its way through your tight walls "fuck- dayeon wasn't lying when she said- fuck... you were tight" you start crying, the pain from the stretch of her girth was immensely painful but it felt good, you felt woozy when her cock started thrusting, "so pretty when u cry, y/n-ah. i love making u cry, so- so pretty for me" you try grabbing her shoulder, trying to ground yourself as the pleasure truly takes over your mind. "can't you answer me? did u turn dumb on my cock? huh? " you couldn't say coherent words in sequence, all the words you could say were slurred and incoherent. harin felt superior, you going silly on her cock was such an ego boost. the tip of her cock slammed hit spots u didn't even know existed. "am i bigger than dayeon? " she was, but were you gonna tell her that? no. "answer me, or u just can't talk? can dayeon fuck you this good? huh?" she took both your hands on her own, restricting your movement even more. pushing your legs up on her shoulders, her head tilting forward on your neck. her groans in your ear were inconsistent and loud, your back arched as your eyes rolled back from the pounding harin was giving you, your cunt squeezed around her cock tightly.

her stomach tensed as the knot snapped inside of you, a heap of her cum spurted out inside of you. her hips plowed themselves deeper inside of you, and you felt so warm and full, you almost cried from the pleasure of the overstimulation. "shit- fuck... don't tell anyone about this... see you on the field trip y/n..." she said as she pulled out her flaccid cock out of you

it's the day of the field trip, you were really hoping you wouldn't be chosen to be in harin's group but rather in suji's but considering both dayeon and harin were in the same group you were sure it'd be almost impossible you wouldn't be in their group. "y/n! let's go now! wouldn't wanna be left right? " jaehyung said, grabbing your arm and leading you to the bus "sit next to me! " you both ran up the stairs of the bus and sat straight at the back, while waiting for the others you decided to take a nap on jaehyung's shoulder to pass the time until you were at your destination. "jaehyung! hey can i sit next to y/n instead? " "oh... harin? uhm sure... " jaehyung was hesitant to let her sit next to you, she knows your history with her. "thank you jaehyun, now please, move. " jaehyung got up, but not before she woke you up to warn the person switch. "hi harin... " you were scared, you didn't really like sitting next to harin, it would almost be impossible for you not to be. harin wasn't a person to be vulnerable with, you especially shouldn't. "hi y/n..., you should sleep in my room, yeah? " you wanted to say no, but you couldn't, it'll be a death sentence to say no. "yes, i will.. "

you leaned on the window instead, the bus giving you almost no comfort, but you'd rather not sleep on the hard rocky floor than on harin. the road was bumpy and rough, resulting in you not being able to even take a nap. you had nothing to do, you had no data, signal or wifi! gosh... what could you do?

harin eyed you with the same emotionless eyes she gave everyone. she observed your restlessness, the way you kept trying to sleep, the way your head was almost falling from your sleepiness. "y/n...you know, you can also sleep on my shoulder... right? " you would prefer if you didn't, but the drowsiness you felt was overpowering your logical senses and a stable place to lie your head looked like heaven. you could only obediently nod and recline on her shoulder. your eyes almost immediately shut as the sleepiness took over your body leaving you vulnerable.

vulnerable was one of the only states of being harin actually liked you being in. where you wouldn't feel a hand slipping into your panties, where you wouldn't feel a finger or two sliding up and then down on your folds, collecting your slick, where you would barely feel the tip of harin's finger, where harin wouldn't care if you woke up after she plunged two fingers inside of your wet cunt. you gasp awake, you felt full as you felt two slender fingers slither into you. "ha-harin... " "dont say a word or else the chairwoman will know how much of a fucking slut you are." you clung to harin's arm tightly, your velvety walls squeezed around her fingers as you tried to hold in all of your whines. your forehead dripped in sweat as the anxiety of getting caught settled in, your mouth gaped open while her digits worked on your sweet wet cunt. "you feel so warm y/n...don't you wish it was my cock instead of my fingers? " all you could mutter out were small whimpers "answer me." harin said, curling her fingers up so it reaches even deeper than before "y-yes...harin... i- i wish it was your cock instead... " you said breathlessly, you clasped harin's arm just as the pleasure took over, dumbing you down. "i love making you a brainless slut infront of me, fucking you mindless infront of all of our classmates and they don't even know, whore" all of harin's mean words encouraged your orgasm. her fingers hit your g-spot a multitude of times, your eyes blur cause they were on the verge of tears from both the pleasure and pain of harin's fingers.

harin felt your orgasm long before you did, the tightening of your gummy walls indicated your climax "cum, in front of all your friends y/n...do it" you bit your lip hard hoping it deafens your long and drawn out moan. you came on harin's fingers, the white hot pleasure went straight to your brain, you felt overstimulated from all of the pleasure you felt. you black out from all of it, your mouth was open, drool came down from your mouth "i'll use that gaping mouth when you wake up from your little nap, night y/n..."

[tender-rosiey]

even — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: ohoho? an argument with husband sukuna? i wonder how that will go ;) fluff ending btw so don't worry

your life as the wife of the king of curses is far from the normal married life. your husband is not like most. you knew that. he is different, rougher than your childhood tales of a prince charming.

he is sharper, grumpier, and grouchier. it was all part of the package and you knew all of that.

but, you can’t help but wish for a moment of tenderness between you and him. and while you know that sukuna shows his care differently, you also want to feel the softer side of his affecton.

that’s why when you overheard the maids talking and gossiping about your marriage, your heart was filled with fury, but most importantly sadness.

they talk about how he will eventually get bored and that your fate has been destined since the moment you entered the palace. it also doesn’t help that there are times when sukuna is a tad bit rougher and angrier.

he tends to not take it out on you, but sometimes, you’re there in the wrong time.

such as today.

after a particularly rough day, you slam the door of your chambers behind you. your chest feels tight and the kimono feels far too suffocating to keep on, especially since it reminds you of him. you clumsily take it off and throw it on the bed and get into your silk robe.

you take multiple deep breaths as you settle down on your bed, trying to calm down.

though, the calm is short-lived as your husband bursts through the door, a deep scowl on his face, “what’s up with you?”

he is met with silence which aggravates him more, and he growls, “I am sure what you did isn’t something you do to the king of curses who is also your—“

“what do you think of me?”

and for the first time, in this moment, his eyes meet your own. yours are filled with pain and faux confidence, with a hint of fear. it reminds him all too much of your first meeting, and he doesn’t like it. he thought that your fear of him became a thing of the past. it makes him uneasy.

but sukuna’s perceptiveness is nothing to take lightly because when he concentrates, he notices that the fear isn’t from him but what he will say.

and it snaps him back to reality and the question you ask. but he still doesn’t answer it. instead, he quirks an eyebrow, confused, “huh? what the hell are you talking about?”

you stand up slowly, silk dragged behind you as you walk towards your mirror. you’re playing with your ring quietly before you ask, “what do you think of me?”

“you should know that,” he retorts, a hint of annoyance in his tone.

“well, I don’t,” you smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

his feet take him to you, his arms crossed, “do you think I would marry just anyone?”

you seem to have reached your limit as you finally look him in the eyes with anger brimming in your irises. you snarl at the man in front of you, “what if it was a marriage of convenience? what if it was something to shut the world up with? to make me submit?”

he seems taken back, but you give him no chance to reply as you continue, “the maids talk and talk about how you don’t care, and I ignore them I really do!”

anger laces your voice as you roughly push a finger to his chest, “but when you do things like what you did tonight, you make what they say all sound true!”

“you push me away, you pull me back,” your tears start to well up, “all at your own leisure, and I can’t handle that! I want you to care, but with so much happening—I…”

your tears are falling down your face; panic and pain lacing your voice as it gets louder and louder, “I can’t help but think that you don’t truly like me, let alone love me!” you press on, “do you even like me?”

your breaths are ragged and heavy. your eyes are puffy, red, and strained. you slowly sit on the ground and pull your knees closer, sobs escaping your throat. you’re unware of the man who walks towards you then kneels in front of you.

you’re wiping your tears frantically, but they never stop. sukuna frowns.

he then silently takes your hand into his and raises it to his forehead. his eyes are focused on you as he utters the following words, “If I gave you the necks of those who speak nonsense to you,” he raises a brow, “will you be sure then?”

your breath is caught in your throat and you can’t formulate a response. he sounds serious and you know he is. you recall all the times he, without hesitation, killed for you.

but, right now, you truly can’t help but think about how the moon shines behind your husband, contrasting and illuminating his reddish pink hair.

while you’re lost in your own thoughts, sukuna has enough of your silence and bites down on your finger lightly, “so?”

gasping, you pout and snatch your hand back, “hey! what was that for?”

with a roll of his eyes, he pulls you closer by the waist then his hand travels to the back of your head. he rests his forehead on your own before speaking up, voice absolute, “you’re my queen, and I will cut the head of anyone who speaks ill of you.”

“and…” his thumb gently swipes at your tears, “I don't want to see you cry like this,” he grumbles, looking away, “so stop it; it’s annoying.”

a smile creeps up your face and a giggle escapes your lips, “you love me that much?”

he groans before getting up and leaving you on the ground. he goes to rest beside the window and you giddily follow suit. his hand, almost by instinct, pulls you towards his lap. after sitting, you tilt your head to look up at him with a cheeky smirk, “aww, you love me!”

he pushes your face into his chest, muffling your voice. he mutters as he looks out the window, “don’t push it.”

you smile against his skin, because if he thinks that you can’t feel the kiss he placed on the top of your head then he is sorely mistaken.

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[st4rrth0ughts]

fucking Sunday after he's offered to keep you confined during heat season you is kinda… 🪽✝️

tw/cw: consensual? somnophillia (only at the end cause you fuck him so well he passes out :(( a/n: wow two fics to make up for dying for a few days?!?!?

He shouldn't have agreed to this. Thats what Sunday always told himself every time he locked your shared room's door. Robin and the rest of the house were getting suspicious as to why their leader and his lover was disappearing completely for a week straight. The excuse that the two of you were having… a week off wasn't exactly convincing, but other than Robin who constantly teased and probed about speculations of what the two of you did, they didn't dare ask why he was limping and covered in bruises at the neck.

He's snapped out of his thoughts when you pull his pants off, your eyes practically glowing as they stare at his dripping pussy. He struggles to contain his composure, he always does. why does he even make the effort to try and maintain it when your going to rip away his dignity as quick as a bullet? Its just a pathetic excuse for you to not go easy on him. A loud moan slips from those pretty lips as your tongue plunges into him, bucking his hips on your mouth, his bright yellow eyes already hazy from lust.

You explore him slowly, savouring him, the way his legs shake while your tongue slips deeper into him, it soon quickens as your sharp finger flick quickly at his clit, making the angel squeal as he begs for you to go slower, fisting your hair, but you don't listen as the tip of your sharp tongue prods that soft cushy spot in him making him shriek and squirt so prettily. Licking his juices as you flash a embarrassed Sunday a stupid grin, a small sound of panic escaping his lips when your cock presses against his cunt. He knew you were bigger since well- you were a demon, but aeons above, he was not expecting you to be fucking massive.

He screams out in overwhelming pain and pleasure as your slam into him, gripping the pillow hard as he watched your cock bulge in his stomach, his frame was so, so much smaller compared to yours, and he was taller than most he's met in his life. Growling lowly as animalistic desires take over any rational thoughts in your mind as you force him into a mating press, ignoring his weak protests as you fit snugly in his pussy, tip kissing his cervix as the angel grips you, cumming just from the feeling of you stuffing him so full. How pathetic, and quite cute.

His yellow eyes roll back as your cock pounds roughly into him, feral movements from you making drool slip past his lips, fat tears falling down his cheeks as your sharp fingers wipe them away gently, a sharp contrast to your movements. He doesn't know how many times he's came at this point as he creams around your cock again, too weak to fight against anything, relying solely on your strong arms keeping him grounded as you fuck him like he was nothing but a pretty fleshlight for you to have your way with. He's snapped out of his stupor when your hips stutter, eliciting a hoarse shriek from your precious angel as your cum fills his pretty pussy, overflowing as his walls struggle to keep your seed in him. His mind goes blank as his vision blacks out, soft slurs of 'please, wan' more..' falling quiet as he dozes off.

Now, you were a demon, but you didn't forget your manners, even during mating season. After what seems like forever, feeling Sunday's cunt loosen around your cock, his face devoid of its calm demeanour he uses to put on a show for everyone, only a blissful, fucked stupid expression visible as you coo softly, still fucking him in a mating press, but gentle. Your movements slow to a leisurely pace, still hitting all the rights spots in the man, making him moan and whine out even in his cute unconscious state. You'd pull his wings to see his reaction if he wasn't sleeping. He stiffens and relaxes completely when you release in him again, cum spilling out as out pull out with a loud pop sound. Pressing a kiss to his Adam's apple, your hand hovering over his belly as your mating mark appears and disappears, making him shiver. This manipulative angel was all your now. Forever.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Enchanted

James Potter x muggle fem!reader

Summary: Three weeks after his devastating break up with Lily, James wanted Remus and Sirius to bring him to a muggle bar in central London.

Genre: Fluff

prequel to my fic Timeless

pt.2 Sweeter Than Fiction

Warnings: swearing, mentions of injury, intoxication

Remus has warned him him has always had a flair for the dramatics.

"I mean, why did I even like her?" James slurs loudly as he slams his whiskey glass onto the counter, white foam spilling over his hand, and he curses.

Remus rests his hand on James's arm to shush him and he glances over at Sirius with a concerned expression for their friend. "Prongs, you promised you were okay," his eyebrows quirk and, crossing his arms, he looks at James with a saddened expression.

James's eyes just narrow and he nods his head furiously, "I am okay," He insists, "I just don't understand why – "

When James flings out his arms in exasperation, his hand accidentally collides with your hip as you pass by. All the glasses you had been balancing on your tray suddenly shatter to the ground with a loud crash. Sirius and Remus hurry to stand as the spilled alcohol barely misses their trousers.

"Oh my, I'm so sorry," You say, clearly embarrassed as you kneel down and frantically pick up the shards of glass as everyone turns to stare.

"Woah," James cries as he jumps up. Just as he starts to warn you not to hurt yourself, you cut your palm and hiss in pain. James is immediately kneeling next to you and, with a movement unusually delicate for someone so drunk, moves to hold your wrist in his hand, "Shit, that looks nasty." He mutters.

You look at him, "Yeah, it hurts like a bitch," you say plainly and stand. James drops your wrist. Sirius hands you a napkin and you press it to the wound.

James stands next to you now and you look at all three of them. "I'm sorry again, I hope I didn't spill any on you. Shit, I'm gonna lose my job for this," you look away, your hair falling in front of your eyes as you groan.

"No. Don't worry. We aren't hurt or anything, right guys?" James exclaims, again a little too aware for someone so drunk and slaps Sirius on his back.

Sirius frowns and sends him a knowing look but smiles at you reassuringly as Remus nods. "So, you really shouldn't get in trouble and," James adds, "Hey, I don't think you're okay…" His train of thought seems interrupted by the amount of blood on the napkin.

You glance down, eyes widening, "Oh, shit yeah," you tilt your head up, feeling heat rise in your cheeks, and look at them bashfully, "Fuck, ah—sorry I keep cursing. This just hurts a lot. I think I have to clean go it."

James eyebrows crease for a moment as he watches you turn around and quickly walk away, the bloody napkin still pressed to your hand.

"Oh," his eyes light up like a child when you turn around and address them over the loud bar, "Thank you," you say with a smile and while he's unsure why you're thanking him, his stomach fills with a thousand butterflies.

"You're doing it again," Sirius mutters, sipping his drink as he stares at his friend.

"Hmm?" James doesn't tear his eyes away from you until you disappear behind some curtains into a back room.

"You have that look on your face, the one you wear right before you do something stupid," Remus finishes sternly.

James's eyes roll, acting less drunk than he seemed earlier. Almost as if you sobered him up a little.

"Oh please," he lies, "When have I ever done anything stupid?"

* * *

James leans against the brick of the building, a cigarette in his mouth. His cheeks are flushed from the cold air as he looks around. The street is dimly lit and barely anyone is around at this time of night.

He smiles as he pulls the cigarette from his mouth. He had convinced Remus and Sirius to let him have a smoke outside. Something told him you would be out here. James has always been lucky with that sort of thing.

Tonight proves him right because he sees you leave out the backdoor. Your hand seems to be bandaged as you delicately shut the door. You're bundled up in a scarf and a coat that looks a little oversized. James wonders if that means you have a partner. He moves away from the wall and walks over.

"Hi," he clears his throat, making you jump.

You turn around and he can tell you're trying to recognize him in the darkness but then your eyes widen. "Oh, hi!" you exclaim, your voice coming out a little squeaky as you push down your scarf a little. "Can I help you?" you ask him.

James smiles and shakes his head. "I just wanted to apologize," he pauses when he sees your expression shift into confusion, "I'm the one that caused you to slip and hurt yourself. Here?" he adds and holds out his hand to sit on the curb.

He can tell you hesitate to follow him. Understandably. You don't take his hand but you walk with him further away from the building. You sit down and James leans his hands on his knees as he looks at you. "M'name is James. Potter, James Potter."

You laugh, smoothing a hand down your jeans, "You say that like James Bond," you smile but your smile drops when James doesn't look like he understands the reference. You don't mention it. "My name is Y/n Y/l/n, it's nice to meet you, James Potter."

"I hope you don't mind me asking this but you aren't fired are you?"

You shake your head, "Oh, no, thankfully." You look up at him a little bashfully, "I was just more worried than I should have been. I'm not the best at this job."

"Mmm, don't say that. You wouldn't have dropped the tray if I hadn't bumped you," James says reassuringly.

"I'm just clumsy," you chuckle. James smirks a little and tilts his head.

"Do you want to go out tomorrow? I know a good restaurant." He says it so bluntly you can't help but stare at him like he's grown two heads.

"What?"

"I wanna take you out," James pauses, backtracking as his cheeks burn pink, "If you'd like."

Your mind seems to be racing uncontrollably and James feels a little guilty. He doesn't want to pressure you. Could he have misread something? Or maybe he'd just imagined it all.

He stands up and dusts his pants. Usually, James wouldn't be one to up so easily but if he'd learned anything from Lily — persistence isn't the way into someone's heart.

"Wait," you stand up with him, looking into his eyes, "I would love to go out with you." You smile so wide your eyes squint and something in James's chest stirs as he can't help but smile at yours.

You laugh and it's contagious. Then, you walk up to James and rummage through your bag. Once you find your pen you scribble your number onto his palm with difficulty. "This looks much easier in the movies," you mumble with the cap in your mouth. James chuckles, looking at his palm to make sure he can read every number clearly.

"Call me?" you whisper, tucking your pen back into your bag as you look up at James.

"I will," he says, and one day later (he only waited that long because he couldn't figure out how to work the muggle phone) he does.

[metalbuckaroo]

The Chase

Summary// "we had a deal, my dove. You promised."

AU// WinterSoldier!Bucky x F!Reader

Warnings// chasing kink, unprotected sex, smut, a yank to the hair, cursing, use of petnames- dove, dovey

Note// I think I'm a little rusty, but I'm also beyond tired rn so it could also be that ehsudienaua. This is a part two to the Black Mail fic I did for kinktober many moons ago

"Who is he?" He was everywhere. His gruff voice echoing through the trees, surrounding you as you frantically looked around. Trying to find a way out of this situation. "I don't share, dove."

He was right behind you, your legs working before your mind to carry you in the opposite direction. Lungs burning from the cold night air as his dark chuckle faded in the distance.

But, he was quick and quiet. Moving just as fast as you could look over your shoulder before slamming into what could only be described as a wall of pure muscle, sending you falling back onto the leaf covered ground.

"Please- James, please. I'm sorry." You pleaded, tears stinging your eyes as he stood over you. The same mask Hydra forced him to wear covering the lower portion of his face.

He kneeled down, denim blues dark with something you couldn't place. "I won't ask again. Who. Is. He."

"Your way out! Please, just let me go. I still have a week!" The metal of his left hand gleamed in the moonlight as he reached his hand out to grasp your chin. Pupils blown and touch gentle.

"I'll give you a headstart. You have three minutes, dovey." You just stared at him wide eyed, chest heaving and heart hammering against your ribcage. "Run."

As if on instinct, you scrambled to your feet, trying to find your footing to dart back into the darkness the trees provided.

You knew you couldn't go much longer, your aching muscles sending pains through your legs each time your feet would hit the ground. There was no use in running anyways, he'd always win.

"We had a deal, my dove. You promised." You swore you could hear the grit of his teeth when you'd stopped, so close to giving in as you leaned your forehead against the rough bark of a nearby tree. Fingers curving against the wood. "You're just like them."

"No, I'm not." You heaved, trying to take a moment to catch your breath.

"I saw you with him at that diner. You're suppose to be mine."

His voice was getting closer, making you bite down on the inside of your cheeks to take some of the attention away from the burning in your legs before taking off again.

Though, you didn't make it far before fingers curled in the back of your hair. Crying out when he barely yanked to make you stop.

"I was doing what I was told. You want out, I have to find someone who can do that." You tried to reason, words not coming easy from the way he had your head craned back. His warm right arm snaking around your waist to pull you against him.

"Lies." He seethed, calloused fingers slipping under your shirt. "I've dreamt of you. Craved you. Now I finally have you again. I've been so cold without you my sweet dove."

Your body gave in the moment nimble fingers flicked the button of your pants open.

There was something twisted inside of you that liked the chase, the constant looming feeling you'd had over the weeks since you'd last seen him- like he was just lying in wait for the right moment.

It was hard to think of much else than the last time you'd saw him. The drag of his fingers against your skin, the way his lips seared kisses to your throat- much like now, cold and warm hands dragging against your sides as your fingers worked at the tactical belt that kept you from what you were truly after.

The ground freezing against your bare back not slowing you from getting what you craved.

It seemed to take ages for James to notice your struggle, his hands replacing your own to easily pull open the buckle as yours went to unclip the mask. Carelessly tossing it into the leaves to pull his lips to yours.

The hunger behind his kiss fueled you, your fingers weaving through his long locks and legs going around his waist to pull him closer. Swallowing breaths and quiet grunts as his hand fumbled to grasp his shaft.

The shudder that rolled through your body as he pressed into you was enough to send your mind reeling, everything else around you fading away and your senses overwhelmed by only him as he found his pace. Short, hard thrusts rocking your body- sending shocks of pure pleasure shooting down your legs.

You'd missed how full he made you feel. An emptiness left behind in his absence, his touch electric as he groped at your chest and left sloppy kisses along your throat. Deep moans vibrating against the skin, mixing with your whines in the cold night air.

"Can feel you milking me, dovey. Make a mess, show me who I belong to." James panted, drinking in the pleasure drunk scrunch of your face as your legs tightened around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer.

Wedging his arm under you for a better angle, he didn't change his pace. Taking the opportunity to slot his lips over yours when you cried out in bliss, swallowing the sultry sound as your cunt clamped around him. His hips jerked forward at the feeling, the swirling sensation at his base building until he couldn't take it anymore- spilling into you with a huffed grunt.

The warmth of his body was quickly replaced with the night air, goosebumps prickling your skin as you whined in response. The dull ring in your ears making it hard to focus as you found your jeans to redress.

"One more week, dove. Better hurry."

[sweet-as-an-angel]

MW2 Reaction to You Asking Them to be Gentle

Warnings: 18+ (Just To Be Safe), Non-Graphic Depictions of Smut, Implied Consensual Dub-Con, Dominant MW2, Jealous MW2, Slut-Shaming, Strap-On, Shock Collar, Implied Infidelity (Nobody’s Actually Cheated, it’s Just for The Bit), Age Gap (Price), Restraints, Slight Implied Dumbification, Implied Threesome, Petnames, Profanity No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.

Ghost

“Aw, am I hurtin’ you, Love ?” he asks, ceasing his pace for just a moment. His body is hot and thick behind you, a wall, a barrier.

When you nod, your eyes glistening with budding tears and your hands gripping the bed sheets, Simon places a hand upon your cheek. Gentle. His thumb strokes your chin, and his eyes are kind.

Until they aren’t.

They sharpen in an instant, and, without warning, he pulls back, inch by inch, and slams back in. You yelp, winded, wincing at the pain revitalising in your lower half. But he doesn’t let you flee, grabbing you by the shoulders and forcing you to take all of him.

“Should’ve thought about that before practically sitting on Johnny’s cock, you little fuckin’ whore,”

It doesn’t matter how many times you try to tell him that Soap had pulled you into his lap as a joke – a gesture of friendship, not a phallic item or intention in sight  – Ghost isn’t having any of it.

“You won’t even be able to sit down without thinkin’ of me,” he says. His eyes dark, he growls, pulling back for the killing finish. “Or I’ll just have to put the fear of God into you again,” And he slams in, harsh, unflinching, sharp. And you scream, your vision turning white as you reach your end.

König

“I know, Engel,” he says, breathless. His eyes are piercing, fire and ice. And a thin, cruel smile stretches across his face.

Before you can react, even hope to retaliate, he takes your wrists beneath his hands and pins them above your head. You writhe and you struggle, only to be met with a low moan from König.

“Don’t tempt me, Darling,” he says. “Or I won’t be able to control myself when I snap,”

You can tell by his tone that he’s not letting you off easily. Not after your ‘flirtatious’ conversation with the barista from your excursion into town earlier.

When you feel tears prick your throat, König shushes you.

“Oh, shh, Engel, it’s too late for tears now.” You swear you see his eye twitch. His body bears down on yours, scorching and heavy and impossible to fight.

He lowers his head beside your ear, and, sibilant, licks the shell.

“Besides,” he whispers. He grinds into you. Slowly. Warning.

“You wouldn’t want to encourage me now, would you ?”

Soap

“Oh no, Bonnie; the time for kindness and compassion is over,” Johnny said as he tightened his belt around your wrists, pulling it so escape was a distant dream for you. He had you caged beneath him, a smile curved with a certain brand of unscrupulousness only he could wear at his lips.

“After all, what did you say to Simon again ? That I’m ‘gentle as anything’ ?” The second you’d said it, no matter how innocent your intent, you knew you shouldn’t have. If Simon’s gaze flickering to your boyfriend, who loomed just over your shoulder, was anything to go by, you knew the end was nigh.

“Do you know,” he took your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look at him, making you wince. “How many people I’ve killed ?”

Your heart dropped. Soap – for this was no longer the Johnny you’d come to know and love – released a brief, almost incredulous laugh. “D’ya think they’d call me gentle ? Loving and sweet ?”

Shaking your head, you hoped that by playing along you could negate whatever was coming next. Of course, any and all efforts would be in vain.

“Well,” Soap glowered, his hand encompassing your jaw, gripping you. He ground against you, growled. “I suppose I’ll just have to give you a demonstration, won’t I ?”

Valeria

“Oh ? Gentle ?” she says. Her voice is low and dangerous – you know because you’ve accidentally seen – heard – glimpses of her interrogation tapes. You know what’s coming for you – especially when she has your face pressed against her desk, her strap-on dangerously close to penetration, though hanging just out of frame. A threat.

“Is that what you thought I was going to be when you let that slimy, arrogant prick of a bartender slobber all over you ? Practically let him bend you over the counter and fuck you raw,”

Negotiation with Valeria is impossible – something else you’d gleaned from her tapes. And denial is even worse. But admitting to what she was accusing you of would be the signature on your death warrant. And she knows she has you cornered.

You can feel her tip prodding your hole. She didn’t even bother to lubricate you or prepare you.

“Shouldn’t need to. What, with that bartender already having done that for me.”

She knows the bartender did no such thing, but feeling you cower beneath her is too euphoric for her to even comfort you.

Without warning, she slams into you, only stopping halfway when your body refuses to take more of her, her obscenely long strap-on too thick for you to even fathom as you cry out, scream, tears falling to the desk’s surface beneath you.

Price

“You think, after all you’ve done, that you deserve my mercy ?”

Price’s grip on his belt was palpable, tightening, making the leather whine and whimper in his grasp. You could feel his teeth gritting, his stare hard. His voice held a cynicism you’d scarcely heard in his tone before. Not directed towards you, anyway.

“You go and chat up another guy and you have the audacity to believe that you’re worthy of even an ounce of my sympathy ?” 

The context behind Price’s upset was all rooted in misunderstanding; he’d seen some younger, attractive guy chatting you up, and you, trying to be polite until your boyfriend returned, smiled. Which, in John’s eyes, was reciprocation. And now, you were paying the price.

“Tell you what,” he said, his stern features shifting to portray ill intent, an idea sparking in his mind. He lunged, grabbed you by your ankle and pulled you down the bed – closer to him. His belt remained gripped in his other hand.

“If you can take – say – twenty lashes, and count them – without missing a single one – I’ll think about being gentle.”

He brought his belt down on your thigh, making you cry out. “And then you can tell me all about how he’d be gentle with you – how he could unravel you like I can.” His gaze, dark with the oncoming storm, narrowed. “How he can have you like this.”

Horangi

“Is that what you said to König when he had you like this ?” Horangi hissed. He had you pinned beneath him, eyes blackened with the false conviction of your infidelity.

And, try as you might to ease his misunderstanding, to remind him that he’s the only one you love, you hear something.

The squeak of hinges, the swinging of the bedroom door opening.

You couldn’t see – think – for Horangi’s frame bolted to yours, but through the rushing of blood and Horangi’s beration, you heard a most unmistakable tone.

“Liar, liar, liar,” came König’s voice, punctuated with three broad, heavy steps. He loomed over Horangi’s shoulder, arms behind his back, the smile of deceit a tune upon his face.

A slinking, sly smile threaded Horangi’s lips as he kept his eyes on you, turning his head to address König. “I’ll see how much truth I can get out of (Y/N) first,” he said, and, like a soundtrack, the sound of König’s belt sliding from his pants lay a dark undertone – the instrument. “Then it’s your turn.”

One hand collecting your wrists, the other tearing the belt from his jeans, Horangi gave you his full, undivided attention. As did König. “Seeing as you’re so desperate for another man on the side,” said Horangi, “Let’s see how you take both of us.”

Alejandro

“Don’t lie to me, mi Corazon,” Alejandro says, ignoring your plea, one hand around your throat, the other on your thigh, grasping, groping, grabbing at your skin.

“I saw you – whispering in his ear, telling him God-knows-what,”

Alejandro is on top of you, his weight an immovable object, his stare dark and unforgiving. You can feel him sat just out of reach of your epicentre, but not out of bounds.

What he’d seen was you, smiling, whispering into Rudy’s ear about something sultry. What had actually happened was you were confirming the details of Alejandro’s surprise birthday party with him, smiling because you were so excited to get it organised.

But you couldn’t tell Alejandro that; it would ruin the surprise !

When Alejandro’s more tame efforts to get you to talk proved fruitless, he took to his preferred method of extraction.

He ground against you, letting out a low, shuttering moan.

“You can’t hide the truth from me forever,” he said, with all the conviction of one who has only ever known truth. “So if you’re not gonna tell me while you still have your faculties,” He squeezed your throat, his other hand slithering up your thighs, stopping shy of your centre and unbuckling his belt.

“I’ll just have to force it out of you. Break you down until you’re nothing but a fuck toy.” His eyes are almost black now. “My fuck toy.”

Rodolfo

“Next time you want someone gentle, why don’t you go running to Alejandro, seeing as you seem to like having him slobber over you.”

You couldn’t argue back, couldn’t defend yourself, your mouth gagged with a t-shirt Rudy had tied around your head. You couldn’t even unravel it, Rodolfo’s hands pinning yours beside your head as he pressed into you from behind.

“Hm ? Got nothing to say, mi Corazon ?” Rudy sneers. “Pity, seeing as you couldn’t shut the fuck up around your boyfriend earlier.” 

As if to drive the point home, to hit the nail on the head, he rammed into you, making you whine, the shirt soaking up your cries and your drool. Your eyes shone with tears, but you dared not cry – not around Rudy. Not while he had you at his mercy.

“You won’t stop until you have all of us wrapped around your little finger, will you.” he said. It wasn’t a question, nor did he allow you to answer as he slammed into you again. “Luckily for you, I’m a good man. One who knows how to handle injustice when he sees it.” His grip on your thighs was almost painful, and were it not for the reluctant euphoria building within you, you’d have tried to break free.

“It’s up to me to force it out of you – to erase that entitled mindset of yours.” He pulled out, forced all of himself back inside, sharp. His breath shuttered while yours choked, your scream caught in your throat. 

“Don’t worry, Ángel,” he breathed, lowering himself so his lips were to your shoulder, pressing a deceptively soft kiss there. “By the time I’m done, there won’t be a single thought left in that brain of yours apart from me.”

Graves

“Don’t you fucking tell me what to do, Whore – you lost that privilege hours ago,” Graves says, threat heavy in his voice. He stands over you, face awash with a dense egoism you know is only worn when he has decided to take his frustrations out on you.

And today is no exception.

The collar about your neck is a reminder of all that you stand to lose should you fail to comply with Graves’ vision – your freedom; made excruciatingly clear to you by the locked bedroom door behind him, the key hanging in the lock.

No matter how you try to reason with Graves, he is having none of it.

“Shh, Sweetheart, now’s not the time for tears–” he says. The threatening tone in his voice remains, only the name he calls you changes. And the more endearing they become, the closer to danger you are.

He slides open the bedside table, reaches in and withdraws a pair of silver handcuffs, clinking together with a deceptive veneer of gentile.

“If you wanna get on my good side again, you have to do exactly as I say, precisely when I say so.” He cocks his head, a slim, coy smile spreading across his face like a disease. “Y’understand, Beautiful ?”

Gaz

“Gentle, gentle – is that all you have to say for yourself ?” Gaz spat, pacing back and forth before you as he kept a keen, sharp eye on you. “After everything you’ve done tonight, you think I’ll let you off easy ?”

The ‘everything’ Gaz was referring to had been your efforts to get a reaction out of him. Bending over at inopportune times, accidentally only wearing one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers while the rest of your clothes were in the wash (or had mysteriously vanished.

And, your worst offence, sitting under his desk while he held a very important online call with Captain price. All the while, you’d poked and prodded and stroked him, tested his resolve, his patience.

And, evidently, you’d gone too far. 

With the remote to the shock collar squeezing your neck attached to the very fibres of his hand, Gaz held all the cards, your sanity the Ace of the deck.

Before you could try to defend yourself, a thin spark sent you yelping, made you jump. Your hands flew to the collar, trying to pull its rounded teeth — the conductors – from your skin.

Gaz only smiled. “Oh no, Love – I won’t be gentle,” his tone was low, a serpent in the grass, his visage matching as he lowered himself to your level, eyes aglow with a piercing darkness. “If only you’d behaved, it wouldn’t have come to this.”

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

[hyperfix-and-fanfics]

Alastor x reader

Alastor reacting to someone threatening reader.

Requested by: @legendofluck

You had been working at the hotel for quite a while now. Everyone at the hotel enjoyed your presence, as you were an absolute sweetheart.

Alastor, especially, had a soft spot for you. You died near the same time as him. You would often dance with him while listening to jazz and gossip and slander Vox and his insecure whiny bitch boys.

You didn’t have any specific job so you just did what was required around the hotel. Right now, you were checking some guests into the room.

You had just checked the last guest into the last vacant room. It was late and everyone was in bed. You often took the night shift even though you hardly got any customers. You sat by the counter idly, humming to some jazz while reading through a magazine when another dinner walked in. Your eyes darted up and you quickly sat up. “Hello sir! Welcome to the Hazbin hotel, how may I help you?” You asked with a gentle smile.

The man sinner glared at you and stumbled through the door, clearly intoxicated. He was a big burly boar demon with large tusks, sharp yellow eyes, and a long snout. He glared at you, a dark glint on his face. Everything about him screamed "caution" like a label on a pack of cigarettes.

You shifted uncomfortably as he trudged closer.

"S-sir...? Would you like to make a reservation..?" Your voice wavered, flinching as he slammed his fist down on the counter.

"Listen here you l-hic-little whore...You better get me a room or I-hic-I'll bash your head into the counter.." He slurred while grabbing your wrist with a vice grip.

You winced in pain and let out a small hiss. Your eyes watered at the retched smell of whiskey and cigars on his breath.

You looked at the man in fear

"I'm afraid that there aren't any rooms ava-" Before you could finish your sentence, you felt a hand grip your hair sharply and you bit back a yelp.

"I said...Get. Me. A. ROOM! Or I'll bash your pretty little head in and watch as your brains cover the walls..."

You nodded weakly, your whole body trembling as hot tears started to spill. You grabbed the phone and dialed in a room number.

"J-just a moment...sir.." You whispered, calling Alastor's room number, praying that he'd be awake.

Ring ring

Silence

Ring ring

Silence

Ring ring

"Unfortunately, room ### is unavailable, please leave a message at the tone."

Your stomach dropped as you frantically tried to think of a way out of this situation. You felt the hand in your hair tighten and suddenly yank your head back. A scream escaped your lips and then a sharp stinging pain shot through you as the sinner slapped you across the face.

"SHUT UP YOU STUPID BI-" He was cut off when a long dark tendril impaled him through his fat beer belly. Blood splattered into your eyes and you were disoriented. You rubbed the blood from your eyes when suddenly you heard a familiar voice.

"Was he bothering you, my dear?"

You stared at Alastor, stunned, before the whole weight of the situation came crashing down on you like an avalanche. You broke down into sobs and crumpled to the floor.

You shook with terror, your vision swimming with hot tears when something unexpected happened.

Alastor hugged you.

The Radio Demon, Alastor, hugged you.

You buried your face into his shoulder as his claws scratched your back gently.

"There there, he's gone now, your safe..." He cooed while picking you up. "I'll go ask Husker to take over the shift. You need some rest and that bruise on your cheek needs some attention."

You nodded weakly, your eyes red and puffy as your sobs simmered down to whimpers and hiccups. As Alastor walked into his room, he set you down on the bed.

"You stay here, darling. I'll be back momentarily."

And with that he melts away into the shadows. You stare at the ground with a detached look in your eyes. When he returns, his smile is a lot smaller and more strained. He gently raises your chin with two fingers and places an ice pack on your bruised cheek.

"Don't cry, cher" He says while whipping your tears with the pad of his thumb. He slowly takes off your shoes and lays you down into bed with you.

"I will...stay with you for tonight, if it makes you feel safer. It wouldn't be very kind of me to just leave you in such a state." He said while pulling you into his arms. You nuzzled closer into his warm embrace and snaked your arms around his thin waist.

"Goodnight mon cheri"

[lilywastaken]

⇝ refuge .

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!AFAB!Reader.

PART FOUR OF MÉNAGE.

SUMMARY: After a mission goes wrong, the 141 seek shelter in Ghost's so-called "safe house".

WARNINGS: Canon typical violence, blood, wounds, stitching of wounds, mentions of abuse, first fluff in a while.

A/N: My fingers hurt I'm actually going to pass out now goodbye <3 (PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO COMMENT AND REBLOG IF YOU ENJOYED IT HELPS A LOT!!!)

WORD COUNT: 11.2k.

MASTERLIST.

If you want to be tagged in future works, please follow and activate notifications on this account - @lilynottaken !

Also on Ao3!

Ghost’s hands were covered in blood. 

Although this was nothing out of the ordinary for a trained soldier like him, as he’d washed away many gallons of blood off of him in the time where he’d been on the field, this was different. 

It wasn’t the enemy’s blood that covered him, no. It wasn’t even his soldiers’ blood. 

It was civilian's. People that had been going about their day. Casualties in the mess that had erupted with a single missed bullet. 

It was his fault. 

If he hadn’t let himself grow distracted with the banter that erupted from his ear piece, if he had paid more attention to the target Laswell had given him, he would’ve been able to game end them right there and then like he had many before, instead, the bullet lodged right in his chest above the heart, enough time to stun the man but not enough to stop his other hand from clicking the detonator. 

The chaos that had followed was indescribable. He could still feel his ears ringing from the explosion that had occurred, the screams of the people he could have saved, the panicked shouts and roars from Price as he ordered them about. 

Ghost followed the order mindlessly, his body on some type of autopilot that had been turned on after the shock, taking out the other targets that had been lingering around until the bomb had gone off, his emotion-fueled mind taking out it’s anger on them by tearing them apart in the most gruesome ways possible. 

But he knew that covering himself in as much enemy blood as he could wouldn’t wash away the innocent’s. 

It wouldn’t wipe away the countless deaths he’d caused. 

But as he watched his final victim bleed out on the ground, ignoring their screams of pain and the insults that were being hurled at, Soap’s voice came through his earpiece. 

“Bastard’s gone. Cannae find him anywhere.”

Ghost’s blood boiled, combat boot slamming down onto the man’s head to finally shut him up, a last act of mercy and a way to express the anger rushing through his veins.

Even after they’d retreated back to the base they’d made theirs in the outskirts of Berlin during their mission there, Ghost couldn’t shake his disgusting feelings off his shoulders.

He’d never been the one to cause such a massacre like this. It was always some rookie or other, never a seasoned Lieutenant like him. 

Soap and Gaz’s conversation was just static to his ears, his mind spiralling as he thought about all the people around the city who had lost a family member today because of him. 

It wasn’t the first time in a mission where there’d been casualties. But never as many as this. And never had it affected him like this. 

The empathy he’d lacked almost all his life had suddenly made itself known in his mind, the little voice gnawing at the back of his head as it fed him scenarios linked to the mission they’d just failed, impossible if he were to think about them clearly, but right then, he couldn’t stop his heart from beating as fast as it could against his ribcage as he thought about the possibility of you or Tommy being involved in something like that, of having to carry the guilt that would no doubt haunt him all his life if that were to happen. 

He fucking hated it. 

He’d been deep in thought when they finally arrived at the base, the humvie’s doors opening as the other three stepped out, Price the only to take note of Ghost’s dishevelled state. 

“Lieutenant.”

…

“Ghost.”

…

“Simon!” Along with the bellow of his real name, the captain’s hand came down to slam onto one of the leather seats, finally pulling Ghost out of his stupor. “We’re here.”

“Copy.” He grunted, pushing himself out of the car and following his captain and the other two back to base mindlessly, almost like a zombie. 

It didn’t get better from there. Even as Laswell reassured him that it hadn’t been anyone's fault, that they hadn’t planned on the man wearing a gun vest, that even if he had succeeded in shooting him down, he wouldn’t be the only one with a detonator as found in one of the man’s lackey’s front pocket, that the explosion would have happened either way… He couldn’t help but still feel horrible. 

“Any idea where he is, then?” Price asked, looking through some of the files they’d been given on their runaway. 

“Probably went back home.” Gaz suggested, pointing out the address for a flat he had somewhere in the outskirts of Manchester.

“Called the airport, they told us a man with similar build and looks boarded a plane for Liverpool over two hours ago. He’s probably already out of the airport.”

Soap clicked his tongue, looking down at the address Gaz had mentioned before. “That’s his maw’s flat. Reckon he’d put ‘er in danger?”

“Doubt he’d care. He was happy to kill countless people for his cause, including his men and himself, what’s one more?” Ghost grunted, throwing the file down and leaning back in his chair, sharp gaze focused on the digital map Laswell had brought up, looking at the location of the terrorist’s house. 

“It’s not near any major buildings and isn’t close enough to the city to cause a commotion.” Laswell noted as she looked over the hills and lakes that surrounded the small house. “Good hiding place.”

“And if he’s not there?” Gaz asked, handing all the files back to Laswell, who gave him a solemn look. 

“We keep trying. Go get ready, I’ll call for a heli to take you all back to England. Try and get him, preferably alive, but be wary of any more guards or lackeys he might have brought with him. You’re all dismissed.”

Everyone was armed to their teeth by the time they’d made it back to English territory, night vision goggles pulled above their head as they had realised the trip took a bit longer than expected due to the cargo they had been asked to bring back to England in the process, the sky darkening even further with every second they spent on the helicopter. 

“Ghost, how copy?” Price shouted over the sound, elbowing Ghost in the side when he didn’t seem to hear him.

“What?!” Ghost shouted back, forcing out the pressure that clogged up his ears in order to hear properly. 

“How are you?! Never seen you this melancholic!” 

Ghost huffed out a laugh, tightening the straps of the seatbelts around his chest, as if they were the one putting pressure on his lungs. 

“Fine, captain!” He snapped, turning to look out of the small window row behind them. “Just ready to kill this fucking bugger!”

“Copy that!” Price slammed one of his burly hands onto Ghost’s shoulder, an act of encouragement the captain found himself giving to each of his members every time they went on a mission. 

After that, the helicopter went quiet, focusing on the mission ahead of them. 

Which in foresight, was expected to be relatively easy, a copy of many before them where they’d all come out victorious. 

But this one differed. 

The target wasn’t even that dangerous in itself, he was just some bloke who had had the brilliant idea to make an organisation that had somehow ended up planting bombs in almost every major city under the government and army’s radar. It hadn’t been up to now where they had finally learned who was behind it and where their next target was, but even then, they’d failed in protecting the civilians. 

Something they had spent almost a year investigating, fighting, taking down so many factions across the world to get to the top of the pyramid, the man behind it all. 

And fuck, if Ghost wasn’t going to make all the time he’d spent stressed and infuriated out of his mind on a wild goose chase for this fucking guy worth it. If he’d never fucking existed, the task force wouldn’t have gone through all that just to lose him, he wouldn’t have ruined the relationship he’d began with you, he would’ve had a proper go at being Tommy’s dad from the get-go. 

But a group of people that had afforded to build and plant so many bombs across so many countries, were to have enough money to hire bodyguards en par with the skill the 141 had. 

And that’s just what they had. 

Just like them, they were well-equipped with as many guns and weapons that the group’s money could buy, and while normally most men like these were just random guys picked off the street who had had guns shoved into their hands, these weren’t. They were trained, skilled enough to almost knock Soap’s gun out of his hands, and although that wasn’t what had happened, it had given them enough time for one of their bullets to graze his leg, not enough to fully bury itself into the flesh but enough to make him bleed and buckle to the ground. 

Ghost grabbed Soap by the scruff of his jacket, quickly disposing of the man that had shot him and pulling him up, letting the scot lean on him for balance. 

“Captain, Soap’s been hit!” Ghost roared into his radio, letting Soap lean on the wall while he grabbed some bandages they were always advised to bring and helped Soap in stopping the bleeding that the graze had caused. “Can you walk, Johnny?”

“Feckin’ adrenaline’s runnin’ through me, LT., could carry a horse if ye told me to.”

“Atta boy.” He handed him his gun so he could defend himself while they got out of the top floor. “Sir, the first floor’s clear. Taking the sergeant back to the car.”

“Roger. Be careful, fucker’s nowhere to be found down h- Fuck, Gaz!”

The sound of a gun going off and the roar from their captain made both men freeze in place, the dying grunts of someone coming through the radio before Gaz finally spoke, voice wheezy and hurt. 

“‘M fine, just- Fuck, that cunt stabbed me!” 

They made their way to the bottom of the stairs, where unfortunately, one of the men was waiting for them, stabbing their tactile knife right into Ghost’s shoulder thanks to the fact that he’d switched off his night vision goggles moments before, and wouldn't have seen them in the dark.

“Fuck, where do they keep comin’ from!?”

“Captain!”

“I see ya! Ghost, Soap, meet us outside, there’s not enough of us to take these fuckers out!” Price commanded, all of them responding with a “Roger!” before barreling their way out of the house, shooting a few more men in the process until they both shoved themselves into the car, Ghost immediately grabbing at the keys and pushing them in, getting everything ready while they waited for the other two, that quickly retreated into the back and slammed the doors shut, the captain slamming his fist into the back of GHost’s seat and ordering him to drive.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Gaz cried out as he held onto his wound, planting his feet on the floor as he realised who was driving, both him and soap squeezing their eyes shut as the blond slammed onto the accelerator, bringing the car out of the rocky driveway of the house and back out into one of the main roads. 

As the adrenaline started to fade from all of them, Price lazily raised a hand to grab at Soap’s shoulder, looking down at the bullet wound. “Still in one piece?”

“Yeah… Don’ think Lt. can say the same.” He pointed over to the stab wound in Ghost’s shoulder, that luckily had been right over his tactical gear, so it hadn’t caused as much damage as the perpetrator clearly intended. 

“‘M fine, Johnny. Worry about yourself.” He grunted, trying to ignore the pain that came with taking a turn with the steering wheel, every single time he moved his arm striking pain into the wound, the adrenaline from before having done a good job at keeping him from realising the amount of pain he had been currently in. 

“What about you, Gaz?” Soap called out, turning his head to look at the other as Price got his radio out, planning on informing Laswell on the second failure of the day. 

“Not dead.” He joked, tightening the bandage around the cut on his arm. “Gonna need stitches or something.”

Everyone went silent as Laswel’s voice came through the radio, broken and incomplete, but they could slightly understand what she was saying. 

Of course, the terrorists had also managed to hack into their servers while the task force was on their way and had made preparations for when they had inevitably barged into their house to arrest the man. 

The base back in London was almost a four hour drive away, and they doubted that their wounds would be in perfect condition after that long of a time, they needed to be disinfected and treated as soon as possible. 

“Any safe houses ‘round here that we might have access to?” Price called out, listening to what he assumed was Laswell looking through files.

“None that they don’t have access to.”

“Hospital?”

“Too far.”

All of them collectively sweared, Ghost’s grip tightening around the wheel as he took a right into one of the roads leading towards Manchester, the same road he took every time he came back from base to see you. 

You…

“Don’t you live in Manchester?” Gaz called out, kicking Ghost’s seat like a kid asking if they were there yet. 

“Not safe. If they have the locations of our safe houses, they have the locations of our own.” Price called out. “Unless one of you has a secret house off the grid or some James Bond mansion.”

Silence filled the car. 

Now, it had passed through Ghost’s head when they first started talking about safe houses, but it wasn’t really his house, after all. It was yours, Your space, your flat, your building. Not his. He was nothing but some sort of weird tennant. 

And his flat would have been the first place to take them to if it hadn’t been compromised, but now that he knew that that idea was out of the picture, he couldn’t help but continue thinking about your flat. With the safety kit he’d given you once after Tommy had gotten a scratch; with the pullout sofa he used every time he was over; with all the warmth and comfort he wished for every time he finished a mission. 

And he knew it wasn’t fair on you, it was extremely late compared to the times he came back in the night, you were probably fast asleep curled in your bed like you always where when he checked up on you; and it wasn’t fair to suddenly just shove three more men into your personal space, but as he took another turn and his shoulder throbbed, as he heard Gaz hiss whenever the car bumped a little, as he watched Soap try his best to stop the bleeding occurring from his wound, he knew that the worries Simon had couldn’t overcome the panic and danger Ghost was in. This was an emergency. 

“Know somewhere, sir.” Ghost spoke out, his voice hoarse, as if he’d been keeping the secret deep inside of him for longer than a minute. “Safe house, I mean.”

“You’re certain it’s safe?” Price questioned, Laswell going silent on the other side of the radio as well. 

“Positive.”

That’s how he found himself copying the exact route he always took to your place, passing the same pubs, the same shops, the same flats… Up until he parked a few blocks away from yours like he always made sure he did. 

“This it?” Gaz asked concerned as he gazed upon a closed Greggs, Ghost letting out a huff of amusement. 

“No, a bit further up.”

Since Ghost and Price were the only ones who were able to walk without limping, they took it upon themselves to be the ones to help the other two reach the building, Ghost’s hand inexplicably shaky as he stuck the key in like he’d done over a dozen times before, shoving them all into the elevator. 

“Quiet.” He hissed to them as Gaz let out a small pained cry, not wanting to wake up the ever-so irritable neighbours or cause you any alarm if you were still awake. 

He felt bad as he slotted the second key into the door, thinking about how scared you could be if you heard him coming, pushing it open with his healthy arm and letting it creek open. “Don’t open any doors. Find a place to sit. Don’t move, don’t make a sound, don’t interact with anything.” 

The three nodded at his warning, Gaz and Soap slumping onto the sofa as soon as they could and Price taking a seat at the island as Ghost slowly closed the door and turned on the light, dimming it down so it wouldn’t alert you nor Tommy. 

As Gaz and Soap whispered between themselves, wondering how the hell Ghost kept a house in such a tidy and pretty state (“Reminds me of my maw’s.” Soap had commented, making Gaz nod and laugh.), Simon pushed open Tommy’s door, listening in to the telltale sound of his son’s breaths to make sure that he was okay, turning around to find Price looking at a small stuffed animal sitting on the counter along with a dummy, his eyes wide in realisation as he turned to his lieutenant.

“Simon-” 

“Yeah.” He brushed past, tapping on the back of Soap’s head to catch his attention. “Up, I’ll deal with you first.”

“Oh, I’m honoured!” He said in a faux-british accent, lifting himself off the sofa with his help and leaning against one of the walls Simon had placed him against. 

“You’ve got a really nice gaf, didn’ expect this from ya.” Gaz commented as Ghost looked through some of the drawers around your flat, trying to remember where the hell he’d seen you put the medkit last. 

“Yeah, you're a classy one aren’t ya, Lt.? Place’s better than mine, I mean, have ya seen your sofa?” He chuckled, signalling towards the plush pillows Gaz was leaning against now, the cute crocheted blanket hanging on the back. 

Ghost ignored all of their remarks, slamming one of the drawers shut and pulling himself up, nodding towards your bedroom door. “Shut up. I’m going to check the bathroom. Not a word.”

Soap seemingly assumed that the door Ghost had gestured towards was the direct entrance into the bathroom, so in order to help his lieutenant out a bit, his hand moved towards the doorknob while Ghost started pulling off his combat boots, not wanting to make a sound when he went into your room. 

But, apparently, the small sounds they’d been making should have been his main priority, by the way you were almost waiting at your bedroom door with a gun raised to Soap’s forehead, ready to shoot just like he’d taught you in a situation like this one. 

“Steamin’ fuckin’-”

Ghost couldn’t rid himself of his boots fast enough before Soap’s hand was instinctively around your neck, the adrenaline that was rushing through both of your veins making it easier for him to ignore the pain shooting through his leg to defend himself and for yourself to scratch and pull at the hand around your throat. 

“Soap!” Price shouted as he pushed himself off his seat, noting the panic that had filled Ghost’s normally stoic eyes at the mere sight of you in pain, slowly putting two and two together. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing!?” Ghost roared, abandoning his shoes as soon as he saw your eyes roll back into your skull, a telltale sign that you were about to pass out due to the scot’s strong grip on your neck, while normally it would’ve taken way longer for someone to pass out. 

The sight of your legs going limp in Soap's grasp was enough for Ghost to see red, moving like he did on the battlefield to reach Soap, grabbing him by the neck and throwing him onto the ground like a ragdoll, secretly hoping the grip he’d grabbed him with was strong enough to cause him the same pain you were undoubtedly in, arms immediately rushing towards your flailing body and pulling you into his chest, one of his gloved hands holding the back of your head as the other pulled your shaking legs up. 

He didn’t really care that he might’ve seriously hurt Soap, gaze and attention fixed on the tears running down your cheeks and the paleness to your normally warm skin, the wheezing breath leaving you as your body tried its best to regain the breath Soap had just stolen from you, your hands clinging to his tact gear instinctively as you coughed with every attempt to breathe.

Once he made sure you were definitely still awake and breathing, he brought you closer to him, the hold on you similar to some desperate attempt at the bridal style, almost like a mutt protecting its territory.

“What the fuck, were you thinking, Saergant!?” He shouted, glaring down at the man, who was rubbing at his neck looking up at you both in confusion. 

“Well, I’m sorry for protectin’ myself against someone who was armed, Lt.!” He shouted back, being helped back up by his captain, who seemed torn between who was in the right and who was in the wrong. 

“Did you even stop to think-”

“Oh, because you feckin’ warned me about the armed woman who’d be waitin’ for us!” Soap interrupted, coughing out.

Ghost clenched his jaw, turning to make eye contact with Price, who just shook his head at him, imploring him to just let go. 

“We’re all stressed. It slipped Ghost’s mind to tell us about her and you shouldn’t've had reacted like that. You’re both in the wrong.” 

Neither of them spoke, knowing that the Captain, as always, was right. 

“Go take care of her.” 

He didn’t have to tell Ghost twice. He and Soap shared one final glance, one that only they knew what meant, full of words neither of them would dare to share out loud, but they understood. 

The gun luckily hadn’t gone off during the whole kerfuffle, letting Ghost lean down and pick it up carefully, clicking on the safety before sliding it into one the spare holsters, not trusting himself enough to carry a loaded gun while you were still in his arms. 

He pushed the door open, your coughs continuing as your eyes started fluttering open, trying to drive away the flurry of tears that were still streaming down your cheeks and wetting your clothes, a broken croak of his name leaving you. 

“It’s me, don’t worry. Just me, love. Just me.” He reassured you the whole way back to the bed, propping you up onto the soft mattress and letting you fall back, kneeling onto the carpeted floor and letting his head rest against the sweet-smelling covers, lifting his head as one of your hands pawed at his mask. 

He tried ignoring you for a few moments as he took the gun back out and expelled the mag, squeezing his eyes shut as another one of your sobs reached his ears, shoving the gun and mag back into the drawer it had been in before finally turning to look at you properly.

“Simon…” You managed to get out, cringing at the sound of your voice, still slightly delirious from the lack of air in your brain. “What… It- It hurts…”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry.” He whispered, grabbing at your hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Just breathe f’me. It’s okay. No one’s going to hurt you.”

He didn’t even know what he was saying at this point, just reacting to every single thing he usually told himself when he was in the midst of a panic attack ever since he was young.

“Who…”

Your eyes darted over to the door, where both of you could still hear the other talk, flinching as one of them spoke a bit too loud. 

“They’re with me. Soap, he was the one to… I’m sorry. I should’ve warned you before coming, we were in the middle of a mission and-”

“Oh my god, Simon!” You cried out, startling the both of you. You propped yourself up, shaking a bit due to the dizziness but grabbing onto his non-wounded shoulder all the same. “You’re bleeding!”

In the midst of everything that had just happened, he seemed to have forgotten the stab wound, his free hand coming up to touch at the now drying blood with a hiss. 

“It’s fine. Listen, you-”

“No! It’s not fine, oh my god!” You felt a bit queasy as you noticed the blood that also stained his hands and tact vest, hoping to god that it was his even though deep down you knew that it wasn’t. “What- How are you so okay with this!?”

He grabbed both of your hands before they reached to grab at his wounded shoulder, staring deep into your foggy eyes. “Don’t worry about me.”

Don’t worry about him? 

He was fucking freebleeding in the middle of your bedroom like it was a goddamn hobby! How could you not worry about him!?

“I’m fine. How’s your throat?” He let go of one of your hands to bring it up to your neck, fingers softly grazing against a few darkening spots adorning your skin, reminders of what had happened before. 

“It… It still hurts to speak. Kind of.” You closed your eyes as the tough material of his gloves brushed against you so gently, surprised that such items that had been used to rip countless people apart were capable of a touch so sweet, so soft, so caring…

You swallowed, the movement of your throat beneath his hand quickly alerting himself of what he was currently touching, holding, and making him let go, going back to search for your other abandoned hand, making it easier for him by raising it and meeting his halfway.

“I’m sorry. For not telling you we were coming.” The apology seemed to slip from his lips oh so easily, compared to when you’d first let him in to explain himself, when he’d clearly physically struggled to speak those two damned words…

“‘We’?” You repeated, feeling his hands tighten around yours. 

“Soap’s not the only one. Price and Gaz are also here.” He explained, his eyes motioning towards the door. “We were compromised, in a way. Needed somewhere to go, and I just…”

You looked away, already knowing the ending of the short recap of the night, looking down at your linked hands, gaze darting back up to the blood staining his arm. 

“It’s… Fine.”

It really wasn't. You knew you had every right to be angry with him and the three other men he’d brought along, this was your flat! Your home, your building, your living room they had no doubt made their own in the small time you’d been in the bedroom with Simon, and without even thinking about the bruises forming at the base of your neck you already had enough reasons to let your anger boil over. 

But you stayed silent as he waited for you to snap, to scream at him, to add even more salt in the wound that had formed both mentally and physically tonight; silent as he took your hands and helped you climb out of bed and cling onto him for balance as you regained the feeling in your legs (that were being invaded by the stabbing feeling of pins and needles); silent as he pushed the door open and walked out with you concealed behind him like some tactical weapon. 

You were pleasantly surprised to see that unlike your fears the men had seemingly not touched a single thing in your living room, standing next to the kitchen island despite one of them clearly having problems with standing. 

He made eye contact with you, your blood running cold as you realised that he had been the one to cause the soreness that now racked your throat, immediately moving to tear your gaze away from him but stopped as he did it first, looking down at his shoes as if ashamed, and by the way he stayed silent while the other introduced themselves, he was. 

The captain was nice enough, he clasped your hand in a firm handshake, one that you assumed he’d been practising for longer than you were alive, and he had a very kind face despite the work you knew the four men did, but you couldn’t help but feel at ease in his presence, an effect you assumed he had on everyone by the way they seemed so lax instead of freaking out over the wounds littering their bodies like you would. 

Gaz gave you a smile and a nod, not even attempting to outstretch either of his hands to you due to the tear up his arm and the other hand pressing a bloody piece of cloth to the wound in hopes of keeping himself from losing too much blood. 

“Soap.” Ghost’s voice came out low and gruff, a tone of voice you’d never heard from him, and you thanked whatever god was up there that you’d never heard it directed to you, because clearly you weren’t as strong as the Sergeant in front of you and would’ve immediately crumbled into fear.

“I’m sorry.” He immediately spoke out, his accent thick around each word as he outstretched his arm, poised out for a handshake. “I hope I didn’ hurt you t’much.”

Although the burn from his hand was still there, a constant reminder for the rest of the night of what had happened, and though it would take a bit of while for you to let go of it, you still raised your hand up to his, clasping it in a much weaker handshake than his Captain’s, but it was firm nonetheless, confirming your “acceptance” to his apology for now. 

“I would have done the same if I had your strength, don’t worry.” You tried lightening up the mood, despite the anxiety that still tugged at your mind, letting go of his hand and going back to standing next to Simon, your arm pressed right against his, hoping that his massive frame would do something to help hide you. 

A warm hand came up to your waist, the hairs on your body standing on end as Ghost’s breath hit the shell of your ear. “Go check on Tommy.”

Tommy.

Your stomach dropped at the realisation that you hadn’t even thought about your poor son in the whole time you were awake, too focused on yourself to even think about what fear he could be going through after hearing more than the two voices he was used to in the small apartment, your breath hitching as the hand slowly pushed you towards the nursery door, like you were a dog in need of direction.

“Tommy?” Gaz breathed out as Ghost led him to the kitchen sink, letting the man run his arm under the stream of cold water, washing away any of the crusty blood that stuck to the skin, while Ghost continued his search for the medkit.

The man stayed quiet, not even bothering to even think of beginning to explain Tommy, and by association you and whatever relationship you had, already having had struggled enough when deciding to open up to Price about it, not needing to do it two more times. 

“His son.” Price answered for him when he saw that Ghost was making no move to answer, the skull-faced man turning to send a quick glare in his captain’s direction before being shot down with one of the same calibre. “Don’t ask more, though. Bugger still likes keeping his secrets.”

Both Soap and Gaz turned to Ghost with matching expressions, dumbfounded by the information they had just been fed, unbelieving that the man they knew as Ghost, the Ghost that they had watched kill people with a single hand, the Ghost that seemingly felt no emotions towards any of them or anyone, the Ghost they’d worked so hard to even get a sliver of information out of him was indeed a father. An actual father, with a real son who had a mother who lived in a nice and cute-looking flat taking care of said son. 

After the confrontation between you and Soap, they had quickly assumed that Ghost harboured some type of feelings towards you, whether they were romantic or platonic was still yet to be known (though by the way he had held you so protectively against his chest, they assumed that they already knew the answer to that small conundrum), but they would’ve never guessed that you were the fucking mother of his son, a son he’d kept pretty well hidden from everyone, except Price, like many of the details of his oh-so mysterious life.

“That’s… Nice.” Gaz croaked out, throat having gone dry by the absolute shock that had filled the two Sergeants, gulping as Ghost stood back up to his full height, suddenly intimidated by the man more than usual. 

“Yeah. Stay.” Once again, not even bothering to say it in a nicer way, commanding all of them like dogs before entering the room you’d just retreated to and slamming the door closed. 

He immediately regretted it, though, by the way you snapped your head around like the girl from the ring furiously, clutching a fussing Tommy to your chest, reminiscent of the first night he’d spent in your flat.

“Sorry.” He didn’t wait for you to respond, taking a few long strides until he was at your side, gazing down at your sweet boy, who was moving around in your arms like he was actively trying to escape you. “How’s he?”

“Fussy. I mean, he’s been sleeping all day, no surprises there. Probably wants to watch some telly.”

“Can’t really do that lying down now, can he?” A gloved finger came down to tickle his tummy, causing him to move around more as he burst into a fit of giggles, seemingly not caring about his father's sudden change of appearance, hopefully assimilating in his tiny brain that all skull patterns equaled dad. 

At his response, you sucked air through your teeth, causing him to snap his head towards you in fear he’d said something wrong, taking a step back as he watched you place your hands underneath Tommy’s armpits and slowly take him to the ground, his little duck printed socks touching the floor and causing Ghost’s eyes to widen, mind racing with thoughts that your son might actually be some type of prodigy if he was standing up at this age, but let out a humoured breath as his little bum hit the floor, and instead of falling back like he always did, he instead stayed there sitting, moving his arms around in order to shake your grip off. 

“He’s sitting.”

“You don’t sound very impressed.” You said, looking up at him with a bright smile, not being able to help the immense pride you felt as your son ticked off another milestone off the list, sitting down on the carpet behind him and handing him one of the toys littered on the ground, wanting to enjoy this little moment of peace within the confusing and terrifying night you’d had, trying your best to focus simply on Tommy and not with what would come with having four military trained men in your flat. 

“No, it’s… Yeah.” You rolled his eyes at the inexpressive tone his voice took, watching him take a seat in front of you and raise his uninjured arm up to click his fingers in front of Tommy’s chubby face, like you normally did when wanting to catch his attention. “Good job, duck.”

You couldn’t help the way your smile widened as you heard him use the little nickname you’d given him, placing your hands on his chubby tummy and tickling his sides, enticing another few happy giggles. 

But through them, you heard the sharp hiss that came from Simon as he moved to put his weight onto the other arm, eyes going wide as you realised you’d completely neglected the wound you’d fussed about so much earlier, one of your hands moving to grasp his hands. 

“Why haven’t you treated it yet?” You whispered, keeping your distress to a minimum in front of Tommy, but Ghost could still feel the worry that emanated from you, shrugging (as best he could) and looking away. 

“I couldn’t find the medkit.” You raised a brow at his apprehensive words, lifting yourself off the floor along with Tommy and adjusting your hold on him. 

“It’s where it always is.” You started moving, giving him little to no time to react before he had jolted up and started following, almost crashing into you as you stopped in your tracks once you’d opened the door, seemingly forgetting about the company you’d been thinking about mere moments before. “Oh.”

“Is that him?” Soap said with a smile before anyone spoke, gesturing towards the small boy fidgeting in your arms. 

“No. Just some other random kid, Johnny.” Ghost’s hands once again found their rightful place on your hips and pushed you slightly to urge you to continue your walk, a huff leaving your lips at his impatience (although you couldn’t really blame him, you too would be impatient if there were a literal hole in your shoulder), as you made your way back in to the bedroom, feeling Ghost move around behind you as if he were shielding you from the prying eyes of his Sergeants and Captain, who simply wanted to catch a glimpse of the small boy. 

“Here.” You called out as you handed Tommy over to his father, opening up the mirror in the bathroom and pulling out the small yet quite big medkit he’d gifted you. 

Ghost tried his best to ignore the small bottles of pills he spied along the shelves of the little cupboard as you opened up the medkit, looking through all the items. 

“I… I don’t know how to use most of these.” You mumbled, taking it over to him so he could look through it. 

“Don’t worry, we do.” Tommy was handed back off to you, no doubt giving the small boy whiplash from how fast he was being moved from one parent to another like a hot potato. “Might need some help with the stitches.”

Stitches. 

You willed away the look of discomfort that would no doubt try to show on your face at the mere thought of it. 

Now, you weren’t the most horrible person at stitching clothes, you’d fixed a few items for both Tommy and you, and maybe the odd time you’d found a hole in Simon’s hoodie and couldn’t just leave it like that, but the thought of using a needle and string to stitch up a wound instead of the normal cloth made shivers rack your body. 

“Is that okay?”

“Yeah.” You breathed out, instead of letting out the worries that swirled about your brain. I mean, these men were dealing with blood and gore almost daily, surely you could manage to deal with a little wound, right?

“Hey. We’ve been treated by worse. Won’t be any worse than doin’ it ourselves.” He murmured, opening the door for you. 

And that filled you with some reassurance at first, but as you disinfected your hands and were given the needle and string, you couldn’t help but feel sick, turning your head over to the little playpen you’d purchased a few days ago where Soap was sitting next to looking down at Tommy play. Ghost right at his side glaring down at them, as if Tommy’s personal bodyguard. 

“You don’t have to, really. I can try and do it myself.” Gaz assured you with a smile, starting to move his arm away from you. 

“With one hand?”

“You’d be surprised what I can do with one hand, ma’am.” He grinned, getting a furious look from Ghost. 

You breathed out a laugh, shakily taking his arm into yours and bringing it back to where he had it before, angling the needle to his wound before taking one last look of reassurance up at the man, who only nodded in response. 

It wasn’t as disgusting as you had expected, but the sounds and feelings were still uncomfortable.

You finally finished the final stitch, shakily tying the knot before cutting the thread, disposing yourself of the latex gloves you’d put on. 

“Is- Is that okay?” 

“It’s perfect, love, don’t you worry. Did it better than I ever could.” Gaz encouraged, getting some bandages and helping you to wrap it around his now sanitised wound. “Could easily get a job as a nurse if you ever wanted to, eh? Think Ghost would love to have you on base.”

“That’s enough, Sergeant.” Ghost snapped, pushing himself off the wall and nodding down at Johnny. “Get a move on.”

You shared a smile with Gaz before Soap took his spot, albeit a bit more awkward, and raised his leg up to the sofa (you almost had a heart attack before you realised he’d kindly discarded his shoes before doing so). 

“Oh, do I-.” 

“No need f’stitches. I just need a bit o’help disinfecting it.” He mumbled, always the careful one when it came to cleaning. 

“Yeah, okay.” You did just as he had told you to, carefully pouring the alcohol onto the gauze before wiping away any dirt and dry blood from the graze before sticking a clean one over the wound with the help of a few bandages. 

You couldn’t help but feel a bit proud of your handiwork as you watched him get up, his limp a bit better now that he definitely knew that he hadn’t contracted any types of diseases thanks to the wound, taking back his spot back next to Gaz and Tommy, the other sergeant moving a little toy around in hopes of attracting Tommy’s attention. 

“I’ll help with this one, Lieu-” 

“No need.” Ghost interrupted the captain, sitting down on the sofa and immediately sinking it, the piece of furniture still not used to his weight even after all the time he’d been using it. “I’ll help her.”

You nodded with a smile, although it quickly flipped upside down as you realised what dealing with Ghost’s wound entailed, watching him slowly take off most of his tactical gear before leaving him in one of those damn tight shirts, moving the sleeve off the wounded shoulder and letting you see what you were dealing with in full detail. 

“Clean and stitch it up. Not that hard, lovie.” He mumbled, his words just for your ears, one warm hand landing on one of the thighs you had curled beneath you on the sofa you were kneeling on. “Just going to be a bit more difficult to heal.” 

“Okay.” You swallowed, tugging on another pair of gloves before balancing yourself with one hand on the part of his uninjured shoulder, somehow still feeling the body warmth through the latex. 

This was different from Gaz’s wound. While the other man had been looking away the whole time, you could feel Ghost’s sharp gaze on you even as you thread the needle, your body squirming beneath the uncomfortable stare. 

“C’mon.” He urged, settling himself further into the sofa to make the next part easier for you, letting yourself take a deep breath before starting without a second though, pleasantly surprised as he didn’t even move an inch with every stitch you made, although you could feel his thumb rubbing over the warm skin of your thigh with every second, your hand giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze every time you tightened a stitch, despite knowing he probably didn’t need the same reassurance you did. “It’s okay.”

It almost felt like you were the one getting stitched up, not him. 

You finished with shaky hands, dropping the gloves and needles and patching it up, jolting away when his hand grabbed at the bandages, finishing the job himself. 

“Thank you.” He mumbled, the hairs on your body standing up as you realised finally how close you’d been to him the whole time, slowly letting go of his arm and letting them fall back onto your lap. 

“It’s fine.” You watched him get up, once again not showing a single ounce of pain or discomfort despite the pain you knew a person who wasn’t desensitised to this type of wounds would be in, your eyes following him across the room until he reached the two Sergeants, who were still trying to gain Tommy’s affection.

When you saw them like that, they hardly looked like the type of men whose job consisted on fighting and killing for a living, they just looked like two blokes you’d find at the pub on a random sunday night, despite the tactical gear they still wore, having fun with watching a kid roll around with his toys. 

“Thank you.” Price rumbled from behind you, a hand landing on the headrest of the sofa. “For letting us stay. Feels like no one’s said that yet.”

You shrugged, running your hands up and down your thighs in order to cure the chill that had just run through your body. “It’s okay. I mean… Simon’s done a lot for us, guess I could just repay the favour one way or another.”

Although maybe you would’ve thought of a more traditional way of doing that, one that wasn’t stitching up his men and him in the middle of the night. 

“Hmph. Well, considering what good a job you’ve done, I’d say you’ve paid it back pretty well.”

You smiled up at him, not catching the look Ghost sent to you from the other side of the room, looking down at the small boy he was cradling and then up at the time, not having missed the eyebags that adorned your normally bright eyes. 

He called your name as he came near, his heart missing a beat as you instantly outstretched your arms out at him, stomach sinking as he quickly realised you were gesturing towards Tommy and not him, carefully bringing him down to latch onto your chest. 

“Think we’ll be leavin’ now.” He said, catching both your and Price’s attention. 

“Leaving?”

“Where else are you going to stay?” You prodded for an answer, pressing Tommy further into the jumper you’d pulled on. 

“We’ll find somewhere.” He looked up at Price for reassurance, but got a not so on board look back. 

You looked between the two, who stayed silent enough for you to make a quick inventory check in your head, looking down at the pull out sofa you were currently sitting on and thinking back to the possible inflatable mattress you had stored in your room. 

“Simon.” You said, almost like a child tugging on their parent’s sleeve to ask for something. “You can just stay for the night. I’ve got a few blankets and a small mattress along with the sofa. I don’t mind.”

You always felt like you could drown in his eyes when he looked at you like that, glassy eyes filled with concern and apprehensiveness at your words, as if he was assessing the true nature behind them only to find that you were only speaking the truth.

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

And maybe, in the heat of the moment, you’d under planned a bit, since you realised mid unfolding some blankets that both the sofa and the small mattress would not fit four people, even if one decided to sleep on the floor, they’d be far from comfortable curling into some random nook or cranny of the flat. 

You fluffed up some of the pillows, listening to some parts of the conversation Gaz and Soap were having from inside the bathroom, jumping out of your skin as one of Ghost’s hands appeared on your back. 

“I'm going to let Soap and Gaz take the sofa. Price’s alright with taking the mattress.” He explained, hand continuing to rest on the small of your back even as you leaned back up, working on shoving a cushion into its cover. 

“And you?” You asked, almost dreading the answer. 

He looked away, a faraway gaze on the visible part of his face as if he wasn’t really there with you, as if you were just talking to a shell of a man who someone else was controlling. 

“I don’t need to sleep. I’m fine with staying in Tom’s room.” He responded, taking the pillow from your hands and placing it down on the inflatable mattress that lay next to the sofa. 

“What? You’re hurt, Simon, you should be resting!”

Silence. 

“You’re not fucking superhuman, you know that, right?!” You snapped, grabbing at his sleeve and forcing him to look your way. “You need rest like anyone else. Just because you cover your face and act like you don’t care about anything does not mean you’re special.”

God, shut up! Your brain was shouting at you, unbelieving that you were getting so worked up over a man you’d convinced yourself that you wouldn’t let in no matter what, but there you were, horrified that he had such little care for his well-being that he would rather stay awake all night than find somewhere else to sleep. 

“Just take my bed!”

The words were out of your mouth before you even realised it. 

And clearly, you weren’t the only one who was surprised by them. 

Simon was staring down at you with what you could only assume was a dumbfounded look, his eyes swirling with confusion. 

“Your bed?”

“My bed.” You breathed out, horrified with yourself. “It's queen sized, you know that. You’ll fit.”

Silence engulfed the room, a pattern that seemed to follow every single one of your conversations you had in this exact spot of the living room, gazes interlocked together. 

“No-”

“Yes. Get into your pyjamas and come to bed.” You said almost robotically, finishing the final cushion before pushing yourself off, quickly walking back into your room before the man could protest. You placed a hand against the wall in order to balance yourself as soon as you were out of his line of view, a shaky hand coming up to cover your mouth in shock of what you’d just asked, no, insisted him to do.

Soap and Gaz apologised for taking so long in the bathroom, letting you take their place so you could calm down a bit alone and in silence, sitting on the closed toilet with a shaking leg, biting your nails as you stared down at the white tiles. 

You were so fucking stupid. 

What was wrong with you!?

Why couldn’t you just stick to your initial feelings for him!?

Why couldn’t you just have let him do what he wanted!?

Why did you care so much about someone you’d insisted was nothing to you!?

You rested your face against the open palms of your hands, running them up and down until you rid yourself of the urge to want to cry, the opening of your bedroom door immediately catching your attention. 

Ghost knocked at the door, making you jump for what seemed like the nth time tonight, calling out your name. 

“I need to get changed.”

Your heart soared at the implication behind his hushed words. 

Now, you don’t really know what you were expecting for his pyjamas to be, but the black shirt and cargo sweatpants he sported were definitely on brand for a man like Simon.

It’d been a really long time since you’d caught a peak at his arms, since even in the warmest weather possible, Simon always insisted on wearing at least a long sleeved shirt, leaving the rest of his body up to the imagination (which, thanks to that night, you didn’t really need), but thanks to the shirt he was currently wearing, it allowed you to gaze upon his muscular arms and the tattoo that ran the whole way up one of them, remembering faintly the moment he’d let you look at them for a moment before tugging you closer into his chest. 

It also didn’t surprise you that he was still wearing the balaclava, although this one was different to the skulled one he normally wore, silver lines running over his chin, like the bottom set of teeth of the plastic skull he’d now discarded, leaving him almost naked in a way, after having gotten so used to him all covered up. 

“Are you sure?” He asked one final time, standing at the edge of the bed. 

“Yes, Simon.”

His gaze darted away from you as you called out his name, something you’d noticed he’d done the whole night every time you spoke his real name out, despite him never reacting this way when you were both alone. 

“Lie down.” He did as you said, getting into the bed and pulling some of the covers up to cover his lap, turning to watch you as you leaned over to turn off the small lamp on your nightstand, the room instantly being filled with darkness after the click. 

“You know…” Your voice came out hushed, further down than before, letting him assume that you’d just rested your face against your pillow. “Your skull mask looks silly.”

“Silly?” He whispered back, mock offended, like you’d just killed his entire family in front of him (which would be largely upsetting considering you were his family…).

“Silly.” You parroted, thinking back to the hard plastic skull. “You look like a little kid on halloween.” 

“That was the goal.” He lazily joked, moving down so he too was lying on his own pillow, staring up at the darkness that used to be the ceiling, his hair scratchy against his nape and skull due to it being pressed against the material of his balaclava. “...my brother wore a mask like that. Used to scare the shit out of me.”

You let out a huff, impossible of even imagining a little version of your Simon being scared by his brother. “Isn’t he younger than you?”

“...”

“Oh my god, Simon.”

“I was easily frightened.” He said, knowing that if there were any source of light near you, you’d instantly be able to see the blush that no doubt was dusting his pale cheeks. “I was frail as a kid.”

Why was he telling you this?

“Frail?” You mumbled, moving yourself closer to him in order to hear him clearer. 

“My dad wasn’t the nicest person.” 

He should stop. 

“You mean… He hurt you?”

“In more ways than one.”

You shouldn’t know this about him. 

“That’s… Horrible. I’m sorry, Simon…”

“It’s fine.”

It wasn’t. 

“It’s not… You don’t have to act like it is.”

“...”

“Simon.”

Your sweet voice called out to him, your hand brushing against his arm and causing a ripple effect on it, all of his hairs standing on edge at the soft touch. 

“Simon…”

“I’m sorry.” He breathed out, turning around, forcing your hand away from him in doing so, leaving you staring at his back in the dark. 

Silence engulfed the room once again, your hand frozen in place from where it had been pressed against before, clenching it closed and bringing it back, turning around yourself and snuggling into the nice-smelling covers.

You didn’t even bother trying to continue the conversation or bid him a goodnight like you wish you could, instead keeping the silence going until the inevitable grasp of Hypnos would pull you under. 

But you couldn’t seem to fall asleep, even after only having slept two hours that day, even as no sound came through the baby monitor on your bedside table, even if everything was perfectly scripted for you to close your eyes and finally get some rest…

You turned around, feeling around the cold space of the bed that laid between Simon and your sleeping bodies, squeezing your eyes closed before taking a shaking breath. 

It was cold. That was it. It was cold, and you felt bad for him.

There was no other reason for why you wrapped your arms around his chest from behind, curling into the shape of his body and pressing your face right against his warm back, feeling him tense beneath your hands. 

You stayed there, waiting for the unavoidable moment where he’d try and shake you off like you were some kind of leech, but he didn’t. 

Instead, one of his hands came up to rest over the one you had above his heart, squeezing it slightly, his way of telling you that this was okay without openly speaking out. 

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes and pulling yourself closer into his warmth, feeling his heart beat slowly grow steady beneath your palm as time went past. 

Simon hoped that the tear streaks down his balaclava wouldn’t be noticeable in the morning. 

This time, when you woke up, he wasn’t gone. 

Although a bit dishevelled compared to the normal composure he kept, he was there. 

The mask had ridden up to his cupid’s bow in the middle of the night, exposing the not very well-kept beard he’d started growing under there, along with tufts of blond hair that peaked out from around his nape.  

It was clear you’d both moved a lot across the course of the night, by the way you’d both ended in a completely different position than the one you'd started in, with you on the other side of the bed wrapped up in his arms, your face pressed into his chest instead of his back.

His warm hands were covering your lower back, brushing lightly against the elastic band of your pyjama bottoms, one leg draped over his waist while the other was between his.

You tentatively raised your hand to run your fingers against the hair at the base of his head, curling a slightly long strand around one of your fingers and letting out an amused huff at the curl that formed there. 

“Ow.” Simon rasped, although his voice was as monotonous as could be, pulling his head away from your hand. “Ticklish.”

“You’re ticklish?” You mumbled, watching him open his eyes before craning his head away from you, a pop coming from the bone as he stretched, moving onto his back and pulling you with him, letting you curl into his side. 

Not one word was spoken during the entire morning about what was going on, about your sudden change of heart (although you knew it wasn’t sudden), about what this night would mean for the two of you moving forward. 

Neither of you said a word, afraid that the conversation that would follow would be the one to ruin whatever had happened, 

You wandered out of your bedroom an hour after you’d officially woken up, wanting to indulge in the warmth Simon had provided all throughout the night, surprised and a bit shocked (you’d honestly forgotten what was waiting for you outside), Tommy fidgeting around in Soap’s arms as he held him with surprising care and ability. 

“Are you some type of expert?” You said with a careful smile, not missing the way his eyes darted down to the bruises around your neck, still feeling bad for what he had done. 

“Uh, kinda’? Got four sisters, each of ‘em with their own set of bairns.” He shrugged, the movement making Tommy let out a giggle through his dummy. “Lad was cryin’, couldn’t just leave him there.”

“It’s okay. Thank you.” You felt a bit embarrassed for not having woken up at your baby’s crying, but you were glad that he seemed perfectly happy, clearly enjoying the attention he’d been receiving the past hours. “He’s starting to teeth, that’s probably why he was crying, my poor-”

The slamming down of a mug interrupted you, staring dumbfounded at Gaz, who’d been the one to cause the noise. 

“Fuck! Sorry, sorry, ma’am, just-” He wiped away some of the spilt tea (you were even more confused as to where he’d gotten the cuppa until you noticed the captain standing next to the stove with your kettle), looking up at you with darkening cheeks. “Sorry, my arm’s still a bit fucked-”

“Clean it up.” Ghost ordered gruffly as he walked out of the bedroom, clad in most of the clothing he’d worn yesterday, hiding once again all the skin and muscles you’d ran your hands over that morning. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m not a prick, man.” Gaz grumbled. 

Ghost leaned down to you, your heart skipping a beat at the sudden closeness, in front of his teammates no less, but ended up pressing a finger to Tommy's nose, your cheeks going warm out of embarrassment. 

“You made tea?” He grunted at his Captain, who shrugged, taking a sip of the warm brew. 

“I’ll pay it back.”

“Y-”

“It’s not necessary, it’s just tea.” You elbowed Ghost before he could say anything rude, placing Tommy down onto his highchair before moving to get some of his food and get yourself a cup in the meantime. 

“Can’t thank her enough.” Price grumbled to Ghost as you and the other two started a conversation, watching the masked man pour himself a cup before swigging it all down quickly like it was some type of liquor. “For letting us stay.”

“Yeah. I’m going to have to make it up for her.” Ghost answered, watching you try to coerce Tommy to open his mouth for a spoonful of baby food with Soap’s help. 

“Seems like you already did, she looks real happy.” Price nudged Ghost, like a father teasing his son for getting his first girlfriend, his moustache twitching as Ghost turned away from him, further pushing the thought that it was just like that type of scenario. 

“We should get going. I can’t risk it further.” Ghost responded instead of continuing the banter, pushing himself off the counter and turning to you, Price immediately dropping the funny act and nodding, moving to get some of their things they’d tried to place neatly in one of the corners. 

“We’re going.” He announced, heart sinking into his stomach at the disappointment that washed over your face, placing down the baby food on the table and leaning back up to your full height. 

“Now?”

“Yes. Soap, go start the car.” Ghost ordered, the scot doing just as his captain had and dropping the smile that had been previously adorning his face, getting up and taking his jacket from Price, not forgetting to say a proper goodbye to you and give you a firm handshake that he hoped transmitted the apology for everything he did, and as you received it with a small smile, he hoped it meant that you forgave him. 

“Where are you going?” You asked, watching Gaz and Price reload some of the guns from the other side of the flat. 

“Base. Hopefully, Laswell will have backup and we’ll be able to finish what we started.” He said, gloved fingers running over Tommy's soft head, messing up some of the curls that had started to form. “I’ll call you once we’ve finished.”

The look you gave him spoke a million words. 

“I promise. I’ll be back, you know that.”

You felt embarrassed at how quickly he’d managed to discern what your look had meant, but nodded nonetheless, saying goodbye to the other two (Gaz giving you a bright smile and Price clasping your hand in his once again, his presence washing away any worry you might have just like last time), leaving the three of you alone in your apartment. 

“Duck, daddy’s going now.” You whispered to your son, the small boy clearly having no idea of what you were saying, but giggling up at you as you pressed a kiss to his chubby cheek. “Say bye-bye, now.”

You moved his little hand in a goodbye motion, Ghost’s mask moving over his lips as he smiled, raising one of his hands to wave goodbye back. 

Despite having done this same song and dance for almost four months now, it still didn’t get rid of the bittersweet feeling that bloomed in Simon’s chest, already knowing the drill as you led him to the front door with a solemn look tugging at your pretty features. 

“We’ll talk once I get back, okay? I promise.” He spoke softly as he stood by the opened door, a gloved hand coming up to cup at your face and tilt you upwards so you were both making eye contact. “‘Bout everything.”

“Okay.” You whispered, fighting the urge to lean further into his touch. “I’ll be here.”

He nodded, but his hand still didn’t move. 

You waited, for what, you didn’t know. You were slowly getting lost in his eyes when his other hand came up to pull his mask up over his lips, leaning down and softly tugging you upwards until they met your forehead, the kiss short and sweet despite all the pain and darkness that you knew followed him, always a surprise when it came to how quickly he could change from the personality he showed to you and Tommy to the personality you’d witnessed him show to his teammates not long ago. 

You blinked up at him owlishly, watching him pull the mask back down and let go of your face (though his touch still lingered) before taking a step back. 

“Stay safe.” You repeated like all the other times. 

“I always do.” He replied, and like always, he disappeared down the hall. 

“No.”

“Oh, come on. He’ll like it!” 

“He won’t.” Ghost snapped, taking one last look at the small toy Gaz was waving around, like Ghost was a child to be entertained and he was just being fussy, which really wasn’t that off track. 

“How’d you know?”

“‘Cause I’m his dad!” He looked away, already regretting having brought his teammates back to your place and therefore letting them meet Tommy. Maybe he should’ve just let them bleed out back then. 

“And you’re honestly telling me that a child will not like this?” Gaz moved it around a bit more, almost tantalising his lieutenant. 

Ghost peaked back at the small teddy bear, its fur fluffy and inviting and its black button eyes adorning its little face. 

“Just take it, mate. It’ll make me really happy!”

“I don’t care about your happiness, Sergeant.” Ghost snapped, snatching the toy from his grasp and shoving it into one of his pockets, ignoring the bright smile Gaz sent him and the punch to his shoulder. 

“God, you’re the best, Ghost. Text me if he likes it, eh?”

He never did text Gaz back, but Gaz had apparently ran his mouth to Soap about Ghost’s reluctant acceptance of the gift, since the next time he saw Soap, the scot had kindly brought a little teddy bear with a tiny Scottish flag in its paw. 

And although Ghost wanted nothing more than to rip it up in front of him, he found himself passing them on to Tommy the day he came back to you, “reluctantly” sending each of the Sergeants a picture of the small boy curled up to the two bears.

[lovesphases]

rafe x bitch!reader pt.2

MDNI 18+ | pt. 1 here warnings: spanking, orgasm denial, unprotected p in v, creampie, semi public sex, that's it i think let me know if i missed any

with the knowledge of how mad you left rafe, you can't stop the smile that slowly creeps onto your face. however, your victory doesn't last long. a large hand roughly grabs the back of your neck, yanking you back until you collide into a hard surface. not even needing to look up you already know who it is.

"you think you're reallll funny huh?"

"rafe-"

"shut up. you're gonna listen to what i gotta say or shit is only gonna get worse for you, understand?" you attempt to pull out of his hold, his grip only tightening with your lack of response.

"rafe let me go!"

"nah, think you can pull that kinda shit? disrespecting me in front of everybody. i think you need to be taught some respect." the implication of his words cause goosebumps to coat your skin. dragging you to his truck, he opens the door to the backseat. "get in. don't make me force you."

you open your mouth, a protest ready to escape. before you get the chance he lifts you up, practically throwing you into the truck. the fear of what's to come causes heat to pool in your lower stomach. rafe climbs in behind you, slamming the door.

in a blink of a eye your bent over his lap, a harsh slap landing on your ass. rafe kisses his teeth, "thinkin' you can talk to me like that, must've lost your damn mind."

an influx of salty tears begin gathering at your waterline, each smack to your ass harder than the last. you jolt forward, causing your clit to rub against his thigh. a laugh escapes rafe when he hears the small whimper that forces its way out of you.

"should've known a greedy slut like you would get off on this. you're probably soaked."

"rafe please! ill be good, i promise. just stop!" tears have started to cascade down your cheeks, leaving streaks of mascara in its wake.

"shoulda thought about that before. 10 more, you can do it baby." rafe places one last harsh slap, sobs now racking your body. he softly runs his hands over the now red and broken skin. "see, knew you could do it." laying you face down on the seat, he rips the shorts of your body.

"rafe not here! people might see!"

"didn't care about that when you were running that big fucking mouth of yours. now its my turn not to care." you recognize the sound of rafe pulling his pants down, and without warning he slams his length into you. "fuck. so tight, this pussy was made for me i swear."

as the pain from the stretch subsides, you let out a loud cry, his tip hitting your cervix with each thrust. "not so much to say now, huh?"

with the way his cock is hammering into your weeping cunt you can't find it in you to respond. you harshly grip onto the door, needing something- anything to ground you. he pushes your head further into the seat, allowing him to hit your g spot continuously. all you can do is let out pornographic moans, the pleasure so overwhelming you don't know what to do with yourself. your head is foggy with lust and you're beyond cock drunk. rafe begins to thrust into you impossibly harder, jaw clenched so hard he feared it might break. he snakes a hand around your front, rubbing harsh circles against your clit. his thrusts become sloppy he nears his release.

your cunt clenches against him as your orgasm threatens to explode out of you. before you can cum his hips still, his hot seed filling you, the mixture of your arousal running down your thighs. a loud whine leaves your throat at your orgasm being ripped away from you.

rafe lets out a laugh from behind you. "oh im sorry, did you think i was gonna let you cum? disrespectful sluts don't get to cum. be grateful i gave you dick at all." he pulls out of you, pulling his shorts back up. "get dressed." he hands your shorts to you before getting out of the car and hopping into the drivers seat.

after getting dressed you slide into the passenger seat, your makeup now ruined from tear stains. he takes you back to tanneyhill, your punishment far from over.

tag list: @niyahwhoreworld @sadgrl99 @sublimepenguinpeach-blog

[cntloup]

You wake up in an unfamiliar room angst, kidnapping, thoughts of miscarriage, mention of torture, blood

Simon bumps into you, a troubled woman whose boyfriend kicked her out after he found out she's pregnant

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

You wake up to the buzzing of a semi-broken light and a thick damp oily smell filling the rusty old room. 

You wince as you slowly move your neck, gradually gaining consciousness, feeling your ears ringing and a sharp stabbing pain in your head. 

You struggle to open your eyes, even in the dim light of the small room, your vision slightly blurry from what seems to be sweat, tears and blood from a hard blow to your head. 

You groan in pain and slightly jolt in your seat as you notice you’re tied up in an unfamiliar room.

Vague disturbing images prance around your mind as your eyes land on the various tools on a small table beside you and you shake your head to get rid of them but to no avail.

Then they slowly come together like the pieces of a puzzle and you remember. You remember all of it. The agonizing torture. And several blows to your belly. Oh god! 

You dip your head to check your swollen belly, only to see the pool of blood beneath you.

You feel a surge of panic rising from deep within you and start to feel light-headed, from the loss of blood, or the thought of losing your child, you honestly don't know.

And you don't know how many days have passed. Are they even looking for you? Will he save you?

There are whispers outside the room, some foreign language, Russian probably by the sound of it and you can barely make out any words, but there's one word you fully understand... 'Ghost'.

At the base, there's a thick tension in the atmosphere. After Simon found the blood and no sign of you in the house, they started working on finding the possible kidnappers.

Simon is pacing the halls as they try to track down your captors and he's absolutely livid at whoever dared lift a finger on you, anxiety bubbling up inside him, gnawing at him to the point of being utterly unbearable.

You lower your head and shut your eyes again, acting as if you’re still unconscious after you hear footsteps approaching and the clicking of keys. 

They put a sack over your head and carry you to the car and drive to an unknown secluded area so a doctor can see you as you struggle to keep yourself from sobbing and thrashing around to free yourself.

Simon makes his way to Price's office with heavy footsteps and slams his fist on his desk, snarling furiously "We both know who it is. If you don't order the raid now, I swear-" "We must act fast. Laswell called with the location of the warehouse they're headed to." Price cuts him off.

They place you on a bed while your eyes are covered and you don’t notice much else as a wet rag covers your nose and mouth.

There's only the faint sound of gunshots in the distance and muffled shouts and punches. And you can sense the ground quaking by what seems like the pounding of footsteps and you feel the rag being removed followed by a loud thud and a pair of strong arms lifting you as you drift unconscious.

[osachiyo]

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 & 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — fem!reader, aphrodisiac, masturbation, unprotected sex, begging, insatiable reader, honorifics (sir), dom! dottore • this is for @dazaisslave !! so sorry for getting to it this late, tysm for being patient with me ichika :3 apologies if he's ooc, this is my first time writing for him :) happy reading and i hope you enjoy !! minors dni

DOTTORE never expected to see such an.. interesting spectacle when he walked into his lab. There you were, perched on top of his table — some of the vials of who-knows-what knocked over to the ground. Small whines and moans of his name escaped your glossy lips, while two of your fingers plunged in and out of your drooling cunt in a rapid pace, the small digits seemingly not enough to fulfill your craving.

"and what do we have here..?" the masked man smirked, clearly amused by the alluring view you had to offer. your head snapped up in dottore's direction, clearly shocked to see your lover standing in the doorway.

"don't tell me you're shocked to see me, pet — what do you think you're doing in my lab, hm?" his lips parted to reveal a sinister grin, teeth glinting from the dim lighting of the room. "dottore, i —" you struggled to find the right words. what the hell were you supposed to say? that you sneaked in his lab to see what he was working on, then accidentally knocked over a vial with bright pink substance in it and suddenly started feeling dizzy and hot? like hell he'd buy that.

as if the man could read your mind, he stepped closer to the broken glass on the floor — a sigh leaving his thin lips, "what you knocked over, my darling, was a vial of aphrodisiac," he grumbled with slight annoyance, now looking up at you through his mask. "a very strong kind, to be clear."

oh.

well that explained why you were feeling so.. hot all of a sudden — but that didn't make it much better. the aphrodisiac was strong indeed, so strong that even the doctor himself could feel himself succumb to it, pale face flushing as his breaths get heavier, it didn't help that you looked to damn ravishing too — staring up at him through those pretty tear-soaked lashes, a pout settled on your lips — it made him want to bend you over his table and —

"f-fuck, hold still, pet —" dottore groaned, hips slamming against your plush ass from behind, gloved fingers digging deep into your hips to keep you in place. but how could he blame you? you were practically buzzing with arousal — hearts floating in your eyes as you drooled all over his desk.

"feels — mmh-! s'good," you slurred, a dumb smile finding it's way to your swollen lips when dottore sped up his pace, landing cruel slaps on your ass while you both get closer to your highs.

fuck, the damn aphrodisiac was taking its affect on him too — making his cock extra leaky and sensitive than usual, causing him to go even harder, and groan even louder into your ear. both of your bodies were covered in a sheen of sweat, dottore's hands finding your tits to pull and tweak at your nipples, before landing a mean slap on them, making you cry out in pained pleasure.

"f-faster — sir, please —!" dottore let out a guttural groan at the honorific, speeding his hips up at your request — broken moans leaving the both of you as he did.

"cum f'me, girl," dottore growled against your skin, palm of his gloved hand pushing your back further down into a mean arch — your ass bouncing with each thrust. as if right on cue, you squirted all over his cock, and the harbinger followed not long after — muttering curses in the snezhnayian language whilst spilling his load inside of you.

you two stayed like that, dottore's face buried in your neck — breathing in your sweet smell, pants leaving each other.

"..ain.."

dottore quirked an eyebrow, moving his face away — "come again?"

you looked back at him, eyes glazed over with lust and lashes clumping with dried tears, voice breathless as you let out a pitiful whimper — "again, fuck me again! — fill me up."

[scarlethexelove]

Please Don't Leave Me

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 4281

Warnings: Angst, Pregnant!Reader, Natasha being an ass, injuries, Depression, Wanda being the bestest of friends.

Part 2: Gone

A/n: Had this one in my head for some time and finally decided to write it. As it always seems these fics just seem to run wild and get longer than I mean them to be. I can tell you all right now I'm pretty sure your not going to like the ending very much 😅

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

“Natty.” You try to get your wife's attention as she moves around the room quickly. Natasha is shoving things in a bag. “Nat.” You try again, but she doesn’t stop. Frantically moving around the room grabbing whatever she can. “Natasha!” You finally yell at her. She still doesn’t stop her movements. “Y/n I can’t right now.” She says shoving the last of her things in her bag. “Nat I have something important to tell you.” You try to reason with the woman, but she just zips her bag throwing it over her shoulder and walks past you. “There are things you don’t understand. I have to go.” You grab her arm and she finally looks back at you. “I really need to tell you this.” You try to reason with her. Your eyes pleading with her just to let you talk. But she shakes her head and pulls her arm from your grasp. “There are more important things than you right now.” She makes it to the door letting it creak open. “We will talk when I get home.” She doesn’t face you, only slightly turning her head before she is gone. “Don’t expect me to be here when you get back.” You see her hesitate in the door but she shakes her head before slamming the door shut behind her. 

Your heart shatters in your chest as your legs buckle beneath you. A muffled thud is heard as your knees hit the ground. Your hand covers your mouth as a sob escapes the depths of your chest. You pull the small stick from your back pocket looking down at the two pink lines. “I’m pregnant.” You whisper to yourself like somehow Nat will hear you and come back, but you know she won’t. To Natasha her job has always been more important than anything. She loves being an Avenger and helping people, but it always comes at a cost to you. You had a sliver of hope that maybe just maybe this could change that. After what she had gone through in the red room she was pretty sure that she couldn’t get you pregnant but here you are. The prospects of having a child had given you hope that maybe she would come back to you. Be the loving wife that you know she can be. The little pink lines now taunting you as tears splash down on the plastic blurring your vision and the once prominent lines. 

It seems like hours before you finally pick yourself up off the ground. Finally having cried all the tears away. Pulling yourself off the ground as you wipe your cheeks before making your way to your shared bedroom. It is empty, too empty. The book Nat was reading was still sitting face down open to the page that she had left it on. Moon light shining through the curtains illuminating the dark room. You don’t bother turning on the lights or changing clothes as you crawl into the cold bed. Seeming much larger now than ever before. You curl in on yourself, exhaustion from all the tears you have cried catching up to you. A pain in your chest as you finally drift off into nothingness. 

Over the next few days multiple new stations report of the Avengers fighting one another. The chaos and destruction of a German airport. You place a hand over your lower stomach as the news flashes. ‘Natasha Romanoff aka Black Widow has broken the Sokovia Accords. Now wanted for treason against the federal government.’ If you thought your heart couldn’t break more you were wrong. 

It has been nearly four months since that fateful day. The day your world shattered around you. You had hoped that one day maybe Nat would try and contact you but those hopes had been dashed over a month ago. She had moved on and so should you. You slowly pack your things in the home that you once shared with your wife. You’re not even sure if you should call her that anymore. A single tear running down your cheek at the thought. You still love her deeply but you can’t live like this. You have a baby to think about now, you need to live for them. Placing your hand on your growing stomach as you gently rub your finger up and down feeling their movement and smiling. 

A phone ringing breaks you from the tender moment. You grab your phone looking down to see an unknown number calling you. Your heart stops a moment wondering if after all this time it is finally Nat calling you. You're so distracted by the tight feeling in your chest that the phone stops ringing and the call ends. You still stare blankly at the screen before it starts to ring again. Phone lighting up in your hand once again still showing unknown as the caller. 

This time you press the answer button. Your movements are slow as you bring it up to your ear. You open your mouth but no words come out, your breaths coming out erratic as you begin to panic. Your ear is soon filled with a soft voice. “Y/n/n?” That voice is distinct but not your wifes. “Y/n are you there?” The voice asks again. “W-Wanda?” Your voice trembles as your mind catches up. Your best friend is on the other side of the line. 

This is the first time you have heard from any of the Avengers for a long time. Tony once stopped by but you refuse to let him in. You didn’t listen to any of the words coming out of his mouth as he spoke through the door. If it wasn’t for him you don’t think you would be in this position right now and maybe your hopes for a better future with Nat would have come true. Wanda had sent a few letters letting you know she was ok. You couldn’t obviously send anything back due to now knowing where she was and the nature of the events and why she was also on the run. 

“Y/n/n?” Wanda’s voice breaks through your mind once again. “I-I’m sorry Wands. What were you saying?” Her words had been muffled by your mind. She shakes her head like you could possibly see her doing that. “Nothing sweetheart. Are you ok?” She can tell that something isn’t right. “Not really. I, I’m alone.” Wanda’s heart breaks for you. She may be on the run but she hasn’t been alone. “I’m tired, Wands.” You know you shouldn’t be thinking that with a child on the way but it has been hard. Tears start to fall down your cheeks as you sniffle into the phone. 

Wanda made a decision right there. “Sweetheart, I'm going to send Vision to come and get you.” She knows it could be dangerous to have you with her but she also knows that you’re not a wanted fugitive so if for some reason that she is caught you will be left alone. But she will do everything in her power to keep you safe. She can’t stand to hear you this hurt and down. “W-what if that gives away where you are?” You question not wanting to bring her into any danger. “I’m safe here. If you want to, you can come here. We have to move every so often. You don’t have to if you don’t want to but I’m not going to leave you alone. You always have me.” You cry tears of happiness for the first time in a long time. “Yes.” Your voice is small but hopeful. 

You land with Vision somewhere in what you believe to be Belgium. Vision never mentioned anything to you about your pregnancy which you are thankful for. You see Wanda bound out of the small quaint house on the outskirts of the town. You watch as she stops in her tracks a few feet away from you. Your head dropping, not wanting to see her reaction. Scared that she wouldn’t want you around any more. 

“Y/n/n.” Wanda says quietly trying to get you to raise your gaze to hers but you don’t look up. Tears well in your eyes, scared to move, scared to look your best friend in the eye. Hands cup your face gently making you look up into green eyes. A soft smile on her face. “You're pregnant.” It’s not a question but a statement from the woman. You nod your head as she pulls you into her arms hugging you as tightly as she can without hurting you or the baby. 

Just then the flood gates break. A sob leaves you as tears cascade down your cheeks into Wanda’s shirt. You bury your head in her neck. A hand rubbing gently up and down your back as you're held for the first time in months. Your legs give out as you clutch to Wanda for dear life afraid that you're going to wake up and she will be gone. Wanda holds on gently guiding you both to the ground as she lets you cry. Your tears soak her shirt as you sob for what feels like forever. Wanda whispers reassurances in your ear as she just holds you. Her gentle motions on your back, not ceasing. 

Wanda lets you get out your pent up emotions. Sitting with you until your sobs turn into sniffles. “She left me. I never got to tell her.” You whisper, still gripping onto Wanda. “What sweetheart?” She asks, trying to get you to elaborate. “Natasha. I-I haven’t heard from her. She, she left that day to Germany. I tried to tell her. She, she told me that there were more important things than myself.” Wanda’s eyes swirl red with anger. How could Natasha do this to you? All she wants to do is fly off and break Natasha like she broke you. But Wanda comes back to reality when you grip her tighter, scared she will leave you just like Nat did. 

“Please don’t leave me.” If it was even possible Wanda’s heart broke for you more. Like herself you don’t have any family. All of yours were gone long ago, but you had found a family in the Avengers, a wife. But that family is now broken but Wanda is determined to show you that she is still your family. “I’m not going anywhere sweetheart. I will always be here for you.” She kisses your head smiling. “And for the baby.” More tears come to your eyes but from happiness. 

“So you and Vision?” You give a watery chuckle. Wanda nudges your shoulder and laughs. “Yeah.” She smiles happily when you pull back to look at her. “So like does he come with a vibrator setting?” You ask half joking half serious. “Oh my god Y/n!” Wanda exclaims, shocked by your bold question. You two laugh as she helps you off the ground leading you into the house. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to mention something to Nat?” Wanda asks you softly, causing you to look up from the book your head is buried in. You let out a sigh as this constant conversation. “If she wanted to know how I was doing she could have called me the same way you did.” You rub your swollen stomach. So close to meeting your precious little one. “Wands I know you are looking out for me and I also know how pissed you are at her. I also know that you partly want to tell her to rub it in her face on how royally she screwed up. She has had almost 9 months to find me. And I know that you said she has mentioned that she has done it for my own safety but at least hearing from her once would have been something. Instead she went no contact. The famous Black Widow knows how to send encrypted messages if she really wanted to.” 

Wanda knows how much you are right and every time she has to touch base with the team she has been distant and cold with Nat. She so badly wants to break her heart the way she has to you. She knows how much you still love Nat and would love to be a family. These times are hard though with everyone on the run so she bites her tongue and nods her head to your words. 

To get your mind off of things you put your book down and swing your feet off the bed. “Hey Wands, it's a nice night, maybe we can all take a walk.” Vision appears in the doorway. “That sounds like a lovely idea Y/n.” You smile at the synthezoid before giving a questioning look to Wanda. “Sure.” She nods her head. “But someone is going to have to help me with my shoes.” You chuckle trying to reach down to your feet which you can’t reach. The other two laugh before all of you put on some clothes and help you with yours. 

Wanda and Vision are holding hands as you walk through the streets of Edinburgh, the quiet street clearing your mind as you three walk peacefully. Vision stops Wanda to talk a bit as you waddle over to a window with a news cast playing. You watch on as a breaking news cast flashes on the screen. As the scene plays out in front of you you gasp. “Wanda.” You call for her. The conversation dies between the two as they come up behind you seeing as the screen plays footage of New York being attacked. You all stand there silently as death and destruction is shown on the screen. Tony Stark missing flashes on the screen and Vision looks to Wanda. 

“I have to go.” Vision says kissing Wanda’s hand that is still laced with his. He starts to walk away dropping her hand, Wanda pleads with him to stay. You start to drown them out as you watch the screen. Terrified that you may see something about Natasha come across it. Screams of pain makes you turn around seeing Vision impaled on a staff. “Vision!” Wanda screams, her hands glowing red ready to fight. 

Someone else blasts Wanda from behind sending her flying into a building across the street. With you close proximity you're thrown back hard. Trying to brace yourself you hear a sickening crack as your wrist impacts with the ground. You scream out in pain. “Y/n!” Vision yells when he hears your cry of pain. You turn on the ground seeing him do the same. The two who attacked turned him over on his back and the thing that stabbed him placed the sharp end of the staff on his head.

Vision’s screams can be heard through the quiet streets. You struggle trying to get yourself up knowing your wrist is broken, cradling it close to your chest. You watch as red balls of energy slam into the two creatures throwing them back. Wanda runs towards Vision using her magic and pulling you safely over to him. Pain is written all over her face as she looks over the both of you. She uses her magic to lift all of you off the ground pulling you closer to her as she tries to fly you all away from the area. You all are almost hit by a beam causing Wanda to have to bring you all down. Wanda lands you both down gently laying you on the ground before turning to catch Vision with her magic. 

“The blade, it stopped me from phasing.” Vision says as you see a bright yellow line in his body and he seems to be glitching. “Is that even possible?” Wanda asks, helping him sit up against the wall. “It’s not supposed to be.” He says, you can tell he is in pain. Your adrenaline is pumping so your wrist is just a dull ache at the moment. Wanda hovers her hand over Vision, her magic flowing and pulling the opening closed slowly but not completely. “I’m beginning to think we should have stayed inside.” You mumble feeling guilty that this could have been avoided if not for you avoiding your feelings about Nat. 

You and Wanda are pushed back by Vision as one of the creatures grabs Vision flying off and fighting against a building. The other comes and attacks you and Wanda. Wanda puts a barrier of magic around you. She starts to fight the female creature as your heart races in your chest. 

You lose sight of the both of them fighting. Wanda’s magic dissipates from around you allowing you to move forward looking for your friends. You can hear it now so clearly in your head like she actually is yelling at you. Natasha’s voice tells you to run and protect yourself, but Wanda is your best friend and she has been there for you. So you push that voice away following the commotion. You run into the train station seeing Vision propped against a railing. Wanda stands red surrounding her hands as the two creatures look ready to fight once again. 

Squealing of wheels from the train moving past has you all looking. A dark figure in the shadows looms behind the moving train. The female creature throws her trident-like spear at the figure when the train passes. The figure catching it perfectly as he walks into the light you see Steve Rogers. You try to get up behind the female creature but she quickly turns wrapping her hand around your throat. 

“Y/n!” Wanda screams. The female creature throws you back and you land on your back crying out in pain. You feel a gush of liquid between your legs after you hit the ground. Wings fly in front of you as Sam Wilson collides with the creature. You let your hand drift down feeling the wetness and bring your fingers back up into view, relieved that it isn’t blood, but your heart drops when you realize what is happening. You gasp in pain from the sharp feeling in your stomach. 

Wanda uses her magic again to pull you towards her and Vision. Wanda pulls you into her lap. That is when you spot her in the distance. The hair color may be different but she is still herself. Natasha fights with Steve against the creatures. You have tears in your eyes as you look up at Wanda. “Wands, I think my water just broke.” You groan in pain again. You can see the panic in her eyes as she looks around the area. It’s not long before the fighting is done and the other three walk over towards you three. 

Natasha stops dead in her tracks when she sees you. Your swollen stomach has her chest rising and falling a bit fast. She thinks maybe it could be someone else's but she knows deep down that the baby is hers. She wants to cry but she turns stone cold hiding her emotions. Hating herself for leaving you, for never reaching out in all this time. You cry out in pain causing her to look back to you. You're curled in on yourself in Wanda’s lap. “It hurts.” You whimper.  Wanda holds you closer to her. “I know sweetheart.” Wanda looks to the other three. “We need to get them out of here.” She can see the two men side eyeing her before Steve speaks up. “Quickly, get them to the Quinjet.” 

Natasha moves to help you but you pull away. “I have her, can you help Vision?” Wanda says flatly, Nat can only nod moving away and helping Vision up. Wanda effortlessly lifts you in her arms and you all make your way to the Quinjet. Your contractions are getting strong and closer together. Natasha can only watch from afar as you whimper in pain. Wanda helps you and Vision sits close holding his side. 

“We need to get her to a hospital.” Wanda says brushing the hair sticking to your forehead out of the way. “We will be at the compound in 30 minutes.” Steve explains. “Steve, I don't know if she can last that long.” She iterates looking back down at your pained face. “It’s the best I can do Wanda.” She sighs gently stroking your cheek. “It’s ok Wands. I’ll be o-” Your cut off by another contraction. All Nat can do is look on with regret. 

Once the quinjet finally lands Wanda lifts you in her arms again and runs into the compound they enter and see Rhodey talking to a hologram of Secretary Ross. “We need medical.” Natasha says out, causing Rhodey to turn and for Secretary Ross to start arguing. You can’t concentrate on what they are saying but you know it isn’t great. Rhodey ends the call and signals for medical, who come in with Bruce. 

As they wheel you away the team follows. Before Wanda can head in after you Nat grabs her arm. Wanda whips her head around anger evident on her face. “Please just tell me. Is it mine?” Wanda gives an amused chuckle. “Of course it’s yours.” She pulls her arm from Nat’s grasp and follows you in the room. Nat lets tears slip down her face. She left you alone pregnant with her child. Not once contacting you in the last nine months. She had told herself she was doing it to protect you and to keep you out of this life, but she was wrong and she sees that now. She understands now why Wanda became so cold towards her after a few months. She has to fix this. She has to be able to win you back and to become the family she always wanted and she will do anything to get that back. 

Natasha can hear your cries of pain as you go through labor wishing more than anything she could be there with you but you don’t want her to be. But you chose Wanda and she understands why. She soon hears other cries. The crying of her child as they are born. Tears slip down her cheeks as she hears them. The boys know not to go around her or to talk to her at this moment. She is breaking on the inside and all she has to blame is herself. 

An hour later Wanda walks out and comes over to Nat. Her head is down, not looking at the younger woman waiting for a scolding, but that doesn’t come. “You can go meet your son.” Wanda speaks with no emotion to her voice. Natasha looks up and Wanda can see she has been crying but that doesn’t change how angry Wanda is at her. “I have a son?” Nat whispers. Wanda just nods her head and moves out of the way. 

Natasha slips into the room quietly. Her heart stops seeing you laying in the bed with a blue bundle in your arms and a smile on your face. More tears spill as she quietly makes her way over to you. You don’t look at her until she is standing right next to you. “He’s beautiful.” Nat mumbles trying to stop the sob that so desperately wants to escape. You have a soft look on your face and she can’t read it. “Meet Alexander Pietro Romanoff.” You smile down at your son. Natasha lets the tears freely fall. “Romanoff?” She questions you. “Romanoff.” You repeat looking back up at her with a soft smile. She feels a flicker of hope that she can fix this, that she can have her family.

“Do you want to hold him?” You ask her softly and lightly lift him the best you can with your broken wrist. Nat nods and takes him from you holding him in her arms. She has so much love for him already that more tears well in her eyes. You watch her as she holds the baby and cries. 

“I’m sorry.” Nat whispers. “I'm so sorry.” She looks at you with teary eyes. “I know.” Is all you can respond with. She looks back down at the now sleeping boy. Just looking at him and remembering all of his features. She had seen the flicker of green in his eyes, the same as hers. But he looks so much like you. He is just as beautiful as you are. 

Loud beeping makes Nat’s head snap up. Your face is now pale and your eyes are closed. The sheets are staining red between your legs. Doctors rush in as she backs away holding her son close to her chest. He starts to cry with all the noise and commotion. Her heart rate picks up and she starts to panic. The voices of the doctors are muffled to her ears as she feels the blood rushing around. She can only focus on you, your face pale and your body limp in the bed as doctors work around you. They soon wheel you out of the room mentioning something about you hemorrhaging and needing to go to surgery. 

Nat starts sobbing in the empty room. All that is left is herself and her son. She slides down the wall begging to whatever is out there in the universe that you will be ok. That you will come back to her and your son. Promising that she will do better and be better. She will be the wife that she had promised in her vows. She will do anything for you to take her back, just please let you live. She whispers in the emptiness. “Please don’t leave me.”

[satorusugurugurl]

I know you might have one like this … but can u do a multi fic with jjk boys (gojo geto nanami and toji) where they push their girl to using the safe word.

If this is too similar to ur other fic I get it lol. If it is then can u do a jealous fic for them.

JJK Men: Safe Word

Summary: Things get a little too hot and heavy, and you have to use your safe word!

Characters: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Fushiguro Toji, FAB!Reader

Word Count: 2,038

Warnings: Rough sex, mentions of blood, public sex, teasing, boundaries crossed, safe word use, after-care!

A/N: Thank you for the request, Nonnie! I hope you enjoyed it; I know I did. Requests are open!

Gojo Satoru:

“Fuck!” Satoru growled from behind you as his cock slammed in and out of your pussy at a rough pace. “Baby, you feel so fuckin’ good!”

It did feel good. God, you loved it when Gojo fucked you rough. Rough sex was always fun—depending on where you were. You loved it in bed! On the couch, the kitchen, and even the shower. But your private onsen? Yeah, this wasn't exactly it.

“S-Satoru,” You winced out, hands scraping over the rocks of the private hot spring you were in. The pain in your hands stung as the hot water started making you dizzy. “Satoru!”

Your attempts to grab your boyfriend's attention went over his head. You crying out his name meant you must be enjoying yourself. Gojo loved it when you cried and screamed his name. It made his cock throb inside of you. He grabbed the back of your neck, pushing your face against the rocks.

“That’s right, say my fucking name~!! Let everyone here know who fucking you so good that you're crying, Y/N. Take it, take it~!”

Your face stung, the rocks cutting into your delicate skin. The hot water sploshed around as your breasts bounced. Fuck you were dizzy, and your palms were sore. You might pass out, and not in a good way.

“Toru!” you yelled again, tears in your eyes as black spots formed in your vision. “T-Torr—” Hot, too hot, “Toru,” Panic rose as your vision blurred. You had to use it, your safe word. There was no other choice. “Mochi!! Mochi!!”

Instantly, Satoru stopped, pulling away. “What's wrong? Are you okay?!” Concern laced his voice as you weakly tried getting out of the heated water. “Y/N?!” He scooped you up in his arms, carrying you out of the hot spring. “Holy fuck, you're burning up!”

You whine, trying to blink away the black spots, listening as Gojo runs around the room. You sighed in relief as a cold rag was placed on your forehead. The chill felt good against your heated skin, bringing your temperature down slowly but surely. After laying on the ground for a couple of minutes, you slowly opened your eyes, seeing Gojo looming over you, towel around his waist as he fanned you.

“Hey, there you are.” Tossing the fan to the side, he gently examined a couple of scratches on your face. “Fuck, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?”

You tried to get up, only to be shoved back down. “I got so dizzy, and my hands were killing me.” Satoru frowned, grabbing your hands gently and turning them over to examine the red skin littered with tiny cuts. “I'm sorry, Satoru, I just couldn't do it.” your boyfriend shook his head, kissing your palms so softly you barely felt it.

“Don't you even think about apologizing! We have a safe word for a reason.” Satoru sighed in relief, the back of his hand feeling your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, I was way too rough.”

“I don't mind you being rough. Just preferably in bed. Or the kitchen. Or that time in your office.”

Satoru scoffed, shaking his head as he picked you up, carrying you into the room. “You just almost passed out ten minutes ago, and you still like it rough?” He sat you on the bed, taking the rag off your head, heading to rinse it out, and put it back in place.

“I may not be the strongest or the chosen one.” You lay down, watching his toned back flex with laughter as he shook his head. “But you chose me ~ I'm the strongest at making you cum.” The wet rag promptly smacked you in the face. The wet plop had you giggling as the bed dipped.

“Alright, chosen one, lay back down and let me cuddle you.”

Geto Suguru:

“S-Sugu~!.” You gasped out, face pressed into the corner of the small closet you were in. The tiniest fucking closet in the world. And your leggings were around your knees as Suguru humped into you from behind.

“So tight, fuck you're clamping down on me.” Suguru humped faster, pushing you deeper into the tiny constricting corner. “You like this? Like it when I fuck you when people could catch us?”

Usually, yes, you got off on it. But right now, in a coat closet, that was constricting your air, not so much. Your body was tense, legs trembling as waves of nausea washed over you. Your chest felt tight, and you suddenly couldn't breathe all that well. It felt like the closet was getting smaller and smaller, threatening to crush you.

“Y/N fuck~” Your boyfriend whispered. “Are you gonna cum~? You're getting so tight~ Gonna cum on my cock?” Suguru slid his hand up, grabbing your throat and squeezing it. “Let me help.~”

Now, you really couldn't breathe, and it triggered your fight or flight. “Red!” You barked out, clawing at his hand around your throat.

Hearing your safe word, one Suguru never heard you use, had him moving so fast. He released your throat, pulled out, and quickly readjusted both your clothes before opening the door to the closet. He watched in fear as you stumbled out, falling to your knees as you gasped for air.

“Y/N, princess?” His hand gently pressed against your lower back. “Are you okay? What happened? Did I hurt you?”

“N-No!” You gasped out. “I was getting claustrophobic. I couldn't breathe.” Your heart rate slowed down as you turned to face him. His bangs dangled in his face as his dark eyebrows knitted together. “You didn't do anything wrong. It was all me.”

Suguru felt somewhat relieved that he had not been entirely responsible for your use of the safe word. But that didn't stop him from feeling bad. He turned his back to you, motioning for you to climb on.

“Come on, let's get you outside.” You eagerly climb on his back, resting your chin on his shoulder. “This party is lame anyway.”

“Yeah, it is. On the way home, can we get boba?”

“That's a silly question. Of course, we can get boba. Watching you suck down balls would be far more entertaining than this party.”

“If I'm feeling up for it later, can I suck on your balls?”

“We’ll see how you feel later.” God, why was he so caring and perfect? You buried your face in his neck with a happy hum. “Okay, back there, princess?”

“Never better.”

Nanami Kento:

One of Nanami’s favorite things to do when he got back from a mission was to tease you. It started as simply worshiping your body, gentle actresses of skin, and kisses down your neck. The man wanted to retrace every part of you he hadn't gotten to see while he was away.

So this time around, he was paying extra close attention. He had just gotten home from a two-week mission, and he was desperate for your touch. Nanami was gently caressing your arms, your inner thighs, all the way to your dripping pussy. But he never touched your sex. He wanted to savor every inch of you. Taking in the way you whimpered and twitched as his hands trailed over your body.

He could do this for hours.

You gripped the sheets in your hands, whining as Nanami’s fingers drew closer and closer to your clit, but he never touched it. What had started as loving, longing touches had turned into an almost torturous touch. Your legs began to tremble and shake, aching for your fiancè to do something, anything!

“So beautiful~” Nanami whispered as his fingers grazed your inner thigh, all the way up to your pussy. “God, you're so wet.” oh, this was it. He was finally going to touch you! But to your absolute disappointment, he trailed his finger back down to your thigh.

It was too much; you were so turned on it hurt! Covering your eyes, you whimpered in frustration. Nanami focused on your calves, honey-brown eyes transfixed on the soft skin, reveling in the feeling of it when his world crumbled at your soft cry.

“Yellow.”

Nanami whirled his attention back to you, his hand cupping your cheek. “Y/N love, honey, what's wrong?” You said nothing; your bottom lip trembled as you clenched your thighs together. “Y/N, talk to me.” His deep voice was concerned as his eyes focused on you while you pulled your hands from your face.

“I-I can't take it anymore. I need you to touch me, like really touch me; it hurts.”

Nanami’s shoulders slumped down as he sighed in relief. “Oh love, I'm sorry. Was I teasing you too much?” Calloused fingers immediately found your clit, sending you nearly off the bed. “Is that better?” he cooed as his lips pressed against yours as you whined.

“Y-Yes!” You inhaled sharply, eyes going wide as he slid those two fingers inside of your wet heat. “K-Kento!”

“Shh, I got you know, just relax.” But it was hard to relax when he started pumping those thick fingers in and out of your cunt. “I got you.”

Toji Fushiguro:

“Fucking bitch.” You whine as Toji slams into you. “Trying to flirt with you.” your nails dig into the brick wall of the alley Toji fucking you in. Your panties dangle from your ankle as he presses your back harder into the wall. “I'll show them; all of them you belong to me.”

“T-Toji!” you whine out, “please be quiet.” Your eyes darted down the alley. People were talking and walking by. The streets are busy on a Saturday night, and you'd much rather not get arrested for public indecency.

“No.” His teeth clamp down into your neck so hard you scream. “Let them hear, let everyone know who's fucking you so good.” You winced, trying to ignore the anxiety settling in your chest. It would help if you focused on the pained pleasure instead. “You want that? Don't you want the whole city to see you getting fucked like a bitch in heat?”

“I-I—!”

“‘I-I—’ what slut? Use your big girl words.”

“Toji I—I don't—!”

“If you don't tell me what you want, I'll just have to take you to the street and fuck you in front of everyone.” Sharp teeth bit down on your earlobe as a group of people laughed yards away.

Everything hit you at once. Toji’s words, the sound of approaching laughter, the fear. “Red!” His eyes widened as he gently pulled out, placing you on the ground. Just as a group of people walked by. Gripping your dress, you shakily slid down the wall.

“Hey, hey, you okay, Y/N?”

“I—I—” you flushed, putting your panties back on, “I didn't like the way you were acting. I don't like the idea of someone else seeing me like this.” Toji’s face softened as he nodded. “That was too much. Way too much, Toji.”

His face fell. The confusion that was etched into his features was replaced by regret. You were visibly upset, arms wrapping around yourself as you took several deep breaths. You were right. He had gone too far. He was so annoyed with the guys looking at you in the bar that he took it out on you—the last person who deserved to be treated that way.

“Y/N.” His fingers graze your cheek. “I’m sorry, babe. I was so in my head I didn't even consider how you would feel.”

He was being sincere. His cheeks were flushed as you looked at him. He rubbed the back of his neck as he glanced down the alley; for him to apologize like this meant a lot. Toji wasn't the best when it came to using his words.

He flinched as you fell forward into his chest, your arms wrapping around his waist. “You dummy.” He scoffed, wrapping his arms around you and leading you down the alley to the street.

“Come on, brat, let’s get you home. I'll snuggle the fuck out of you as an apology.”

“Can I be the big spoon?” You asked, leaning into his side as you walked.

He snorted a laugh, his hand holding your hip, pulling you tighter against him. “You sure can.”

[meiieiri]

𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐦𝐚 𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐥’𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 [toji fushiguro]

synopsis: after the two brats from tokyo jujutsu tech took the star plasma vessel, toji momentarily sets his eyes on an uncompensated target, you.

warnings. dark explicit sex. voyeurism. dumbification. size kink. overstimulation. unprotected sex.

a/n: help i’m writing this in the lab while waiting for my reflux setup to finish its shit. also my lab coworker just passed by me and i deadass had to cross my legs FUCK why am i so filthy

toji watched from the cctv cameras in the apartment, licking his lips when he sees someone who didn’t quite show up on the briefing sheet shu gave him. he couldn’t help it and he was alone right now, his handler had to take a call. shit, school uniforms are always so short and skimpy these days. his veiny hand finds his stiff throbbing cock, his thumb pressing against the angry tip coating it with his thick cum as the woman on the laptop casually sweeps the mess of the apartment, your cute little butt on full display as you bend over to pick something up from the ground.

and that’s what led to this — shu wondering where toji took the fucking van and him splitting you open on his cock with his head thrown back as you clench around him. “w-wait—“

“i waited the entire day, baby,” toji smirks as you squirm underneath him, your expression pained, he hasn’t even bottomed out yet, and you ‘re already on the verge of tears, gasping and clawing at his back as he slowly inches in as you adjust to his girth before slowly pulling back out only to inch back in a little further again. he stops when he is barely halfway sheathed into your pussy, his hips stuttering when he feels just how tight you are, he’s had women before – loads of ‘em, he spends his hard-earned cash on typical prostitutes but none could ever compare to virgin-tight naive little school girls like you.

toji, the man assigned to hunt down your sister or so he haughtily said when he barged into your apartment this afternoon, is just so big, you could tell just from how he towered over you earlier, his hardened cock bulging through his grey sweatpants as he tells you to be quiet and just let him fondle your dripping cunt.

“w-won’t fit toji,” you whimpered helplessly, “y-you’re too big.”

“maybe if you stopped squeezing my damn cock it won’t hurt so much.”

toji wants to give in to the primal urge to just slam into you, impale you on his cock as he drills into your virgin-tight pussy, but he seems to be enjoying this little back and forth between you two — every time he sinks deeper into your soaking wet cunt, you instinctively try to move away for a bit, shying away from the discomfort, as if you didn’t want this when this rugged-looking mercenary politely asked if you could be his cocksleeve for today.

“c’mon, all you do is whine but you really just want me to stuff you full with my cum,” he tangles his fingers in your hair, angling his thrusts so that he could see the outline of his stiff cock on the skin of your lower midriff. he groans when your fingernails drag across his back when he picks up his already animalistic pace. “see that? hah, you’re practically sucking me in.”

you shake your head at his lewd words, fat tears streaming down your cheeks as he practically uses your body, holding you by the hips, slamming you down on his thick cock, his eyes intently watching the way his cock sinfully disappears into your hole with every sharp thrust. “to-oji! agh – s-slow down-n! y-you’ll break me—!” you whined pathetically, your hands finding his shoulders as you try to get him to slow down.

he crashes his lips onto yours, your forehead resting under his chin, relishing in the way you beg for him to slow down which somehow makes his already hardened member twitch in excitement. he always loves it when he’s a bitch’s first real fuck, unlike those stupid teenage boys that take more pleasure in having a woman do all the work.

“g-good,” he rasps, grunting into your ear as he begins to feel the familiar feeling of your walls spasming around his cock. “fuck yea — take my cock, good girl–“ he frenziedly jostles into you, admiring the way you moaned, the way your breasts bounced with every sharp movement, the way your head lolled from side to side as you fought your impending orgasm.

you sob, your toes curling, your back arching off from the bed, utterly vulnerable to your release. “not inside, p-please, n-not inside ngh— f-fuck, toji! ‘m there, ‘m cumming!”

toji tuts at your plea. “s-stupid girl,” he groans at your spasming body, his heavy balls tightening as he feels the first waves of his release. “agh,” he follows soon after you, groaning as thick ropes of his cum paint your walls, forever reminding you of the sickening fact that you just fucked your little sister’s assassin. toji languidly thrusts two more times, sloppily wiping your tears away, finally slowing down just as you begged, pushing his cum deeper into you, as he grunts into the crook of your neck, his cock twitching as it unloads the last of his release.

“y-you came inside,” you whimpered as toji rests on your dainty frame, still not pulling out.

the older man scoffs, kissing your collarbone. “shh, just take a pill later,” he hushes you and you don’t know why but he reminds you of the most charming of demons — wait but that’s because he is. nothing could be heard in the room other than your and Toji’s breathless pants. “but don’t think this changes anything.” he says after a while and you look up at him sleepily. “i still have to kill your sister.”

“but toji—“ your bottom lip quivers and you shiver when he plants a cold kiss between your brows, his scarred lip curling up into a sickening smile.

“—don’t worry, i’ll make it quick, as quick as i made you cum, that is.”

[writeroutoftime]

precious secret

pairing: eris vanserra x fem!reader

summary: eris has kept you - his mate - a secret for years, not wanting any harm to come to you. but when his hands are tied, he must turn to an unlikely ally to offer you protection

warnings: minor mentions of violence against reader (split lip, not graphic description), beron - enough said

words: 1.5k

a/n: alright, I am in love with eris - at least the fanon version of him lol. and I'm such a sucker for stories where he tries to protect his mate from his father, so I humbly offer this as my submission. please enjoy and it'd be great if you let me know what you think! have a great day everyone!

oOoOo

A sense of fear palpated through Eris' heart with every purposeful stride his took down the halls of Forest House. His palms were sweaty, and his skin felt flushed, a stark contrast to the cool and collected exterior he normally presented.

The moment his trusted guard had let him know of your situation, his mind could think only of the worst possible scenarios. The worst images his mind could mangle before his eyes flooded his senses, and he knew the only remedy would be to see, hear, and touch you.

Upon reaching your room, he slammed open the door and immediately rushed to your side. His hands automatically reached to cup your cheeks, eyes frantically scanning for blood, bruises, anything that could cause you pain. It didn't take long for his eyes to zero in on the blood that ran along your lips.

Hands shaking, Eris reached out to gently wipe the blood away with his thumb. Your instinctive flinch caused a pain to wash over his body. He never wanted to be the cause of your pain. You sent a wave of reassurance down the golden bond, but it did little to assure him.

"It's worse than it looks." you tried, grasping his wrist, holding his palm against your cheek.

Eris growled, eyes hardening as though his mind had not registered your words. "What happened?

There was a moment of hesitation from your side, but with a soft sigh you let your mate in the morning's events. "Word got out to Beron that there had been sightings of us together. He let me off with a warning for lesser fae such as myself to stay away from the likes of you."

"This can't go on." he spoke, scoffing at his father's words.

Now it was your turn to panic. "W-what do you mean?" 

"It's not safe for you to stay here any longer." he clarified, gaze softening ever so slightly.

"I'm not leaving you." you demanded, holding your ground.

"Love, we thought we were being careful and look what happened. What am I to do if this becomes a regular occurrence. It will ease my mind to know you are safe and out of harm's way." 

"Away from you." you argued, nuzzling your head into his neck as you tried to stop the tears that burned against your eyes. 

"Just for a little while." he promised. "Just until I know it's safe to bring you back." softly pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. 

"I don't know where I shall go." you admitted. 

It pained you to think of leaving the Autumn Court - your home. Yes, Beron was a horrible, cruel ruler, but there was still so much good to be found outside of his clutches. The breathtaking scenery, your family, and, of course, all the beautiful moments you and your mate created together. If you left would you ever see any of it again?

"I'll take care of it." Eris said, drifting off into silence as he savored the last night he had to hold you for the time being.

oOoOo

Eris strolled through the halls of River House, trademark smirk upon his features as he came into view of his reluctant allies. Rhysand and Feyre draped themselves across two chairs at their grand table, looking warily at the heir to the Autumn Court. 

"High Lord, High Lady, a pleasure as always." Eris greeted, bowing slightly to the rulers of the Night Court. Though, it didn't escape his notice the close eye that the rest of the Inner Circle kept on him.

"Eris," Rhysand acknowledged, trying to be diplomatic. "to what do we owe this unexpected visit?" 

There was a long pause in which Eris took a deep breath and pushed aside the snarky comments, the masked facade, and allowed the Night Court to see him in his true form. "I am here to ask you to provide sanctuary for a member of the Autumn Court." he spoke, choosing his words carefully. 

Feyre cocked her head to the side, as if trying to decipher a hidden cipher in Eris' words. "And why do you presume we have any obligation to help someone associated with you?"

Eris' palms burned with a heat that threatened to burst free and wreak havoc. A reaction that had become more common after solidifying the mating bond with you all those years ago. But he tamped down said flames, knowing anger wouldn't get him anywhere. So, the red-headed swallowed his pride and tried another approach.

"I know I have no room to ask such a request, but please." Eris pled, bending to bow before the Night Court on one knee. "If not for my sake, then do it for the sake of - of my mate. For the innocent female who has had the misfortune of falling in love with me." he confessed, revealing his most precious card.

All eyes of the Inner Circle widened in surprise, and Feyre couldn't contain her gasp at Eris' words. None of them had ever had any inkling there was someone tied to Eris in that way, but from the shake in his voice, to the bowing of his head, they knew he spoke only the truth. 

"I still need time to take control of Autumn from my father, and it is no longer safe for her there." he continued. "But once I am High Lord, she will be able to return to me. Until then, this is the safest place I know of for her. Name your price, and I swear it will be done." 

Rhys and Feyre shared a look, silently conversing. Even the powerful High Lord was taken aback by the confession and felt a small pang in his own heart. His mind shifted to Feyre and the lengths he had gone to protect and everything he would continue to do if necessary -what he would do, what he would promise, what he would give up. All just to know she was safe, regardless of his own well-being. He saw those same feelings reflected in Eris' eyes. No longer was he an arrogant heir before them, but a male in love and desperate. 

"That is a bold offer to make." Rhys spoke, his voice commanding always one with a flair for dramatics. He saw the way Eris flinched in worry, so he quickly put the male out of his misery. "But we accept."

The relief Eris felt washed over him instantaneously, his shoulders sagging in relief. "Thank you." he whispered, so overcome with emotion, he didn't know how else to emote his gratitude. "I am at your disposal to the best of my ability when you call in your favor" he spoke, standing up. 

The thought of Rhysand now having a favor to dangle over his head sent a small chill down his spine. But he would offer a thousand favors to the male if it would guarantee your safety. It should have scared him, but Eris knew that wasn't anything in this world (or the next) he wouldn't do to keep you protected. 

"No favor necessary." Feyre spoke gently, after sparing a quick glance in Rhys' direction. "We know the sanctity of the mating bond, and we will do our best to keep your mate safe." she vowed, seeing a new light to the male before her.

With another round of thanks, Eris bowed his head a final time before winnowing away and back to spend one last night with you.

oOoOo

The next day, under the cover of night, Eris stood with you in his arms, at the entrance to Velaris. Tears pulled in both of your eyes as your foreheads rest against each other's. Feelings of both love and despair were shot down the bond, leaving you feeling breathless.

"Please, we can figure this out." you tried one last time, not caring if the tears on your cheeks belonged to you and Eris. We don't have to separate."

"Trust me," Eris whispered, knowing that Rhys and Feyre stood only a few feet away. "I would wish for nothing more than to be selfish and keep you by your side. But this is the only way I can ensure you’re safe."

"What about you?"

Eris pulled back slightly to take in your form, sighing softly at your stubbornness. He gently cupped your cheek, pressing soft kisses to your skin. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine, and we'll be back together before you know it, alright?" he asked, content with your reluctant nod.

One last time, Eris leaned in and captured your lips with his. You gripped the lapels of his jacket, pulling your mate as close to your chest as was possible. The kiss was soft, but desperate and full of languish. Though you both wished the moment could last forever, you eventually pulled away, whispering words of love to each other.

"Until we see each other again, love." Eris vowed, watching your figure retreat into the safety of Velaris until you he could see you no more.

part two