#you know why I should’ve gone to bed? the fight was on

[thresholdbb]

[0mg-bird]

Late Night ~ J. Seresin x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Jake had gotten into an intense argument before he went off to work, now it was night fall and he comes home late.

Warnings: language, angry Jake, fluff at the end.

Never go to bed angry. That’s what everyone tells you when you’re engaged. Hold each other in the mornings, kiss each other good night, go out on dates, don’t have boring sex, keep showing up for one another. That’s what all the old ladies say in public when they see the ring.

Here you are now though, staring at that rock on your finger and not listening to any of that advice.

You paced around your home for a while, you made dinner, sat at the table and waited. Your food got cold. You left Jake a plate in the microwave, then cleaned up. You watched tv for a while, the hour of his usual arrival came and went, time kept ticking on. You took a shower, you put on your silk nightgown, you brushed and blow dried your hair and then you sat in bed, getting more and more frustrated.

Where was he?

The fight was ugly, Jake canceled plans yet again and you were overly frustrated. He’s missed dinners, changed multiple plans of going out with your shared friends. He wasn’t in bed most mornings anymore because he wanted to get his day started earlier for work. You were very understanding at first, he was up for a promotion, his job is stressful enough and you understood his need to lighten his load. That was a month ago. He still skipped out on plans, he wouldn’t even discuss a date for the wedding. Slowly but surely, you were losing your mind, your frustration finally spilled out in the morning when Jake said he was going out with the squad after work, making you have to re think your idea of setting up a romantic night in.

It was a perfectly good Friday night and your fiancé was spending it without you.

He had asked you why you were being moody, you told him you were fine but he grew irritated at your irritation. Soon the two of you were calling each other ridiculous and he was slamming the door shut behind him on his way out.

You got in bed and laid on your side, huffing. There’s the distinct sound of his key turning in the front door, you can hear him coming down the hall and the soft creak of the bedroom door opening. He knows you’re not asleep, but you don’t turn to face him as he stands in the doorway.

He comes into the room, shuts the door and goes to his side of the closet. He undresses, goes into the bathroom for a little bit to wash his face and brush his teeth.

“It’s really late, Jake.” You simply say as he comes back out.

He nods even though you can’t see him. “I know, sorry.” He says, then comes to your side of the bed, standing, looking down at you. You don’t meet his gaze, he can clearly see the irritation on your face. “You’re just not even gonna look at me?” He asks in a growing defense.

You finally look into those green eyes you once fell for. “I’m tired, just come to bed.”

“Tired or just still pissed at me?”

So this was the game he wanted to play.

You adjust to sit up, the covers sliding onto your lap. “Both, actually.”

He sighs, taking a seat at the end of the bed, putting a safe distance between the two of you. “The fight this morning shouldn’t have happened.” He says.

“No, it shouldn’t have.” You agree. “And you should’ve called and told me you were going to be late. Actually, you shouldn’t have gone out at all.”

Jake’s brows crease together, you know his features well enough to know he’s slowly growing irritated. “I needed a little space, especially after you created a mess this morning.”

He was an idiot with words.

You take a second to gather your nerves. “I cannot believe you right now. I’m sorry if I blew up at you, Jake, but I didn’t know what to do when you blew me off yet again. Seriously, what is your deal?” You ask.

“My deal?” He scoffs. “I have no ‘deal’. You’re the one who’s making problems where they don’t need to be.”

At his words, you shove the covers completely off of you. Your feet plant on the floor and you put a significantly more distance between you. Jake watches you slowly pace.

“I think I’ve officially lost my mind.” You say, nodding your head. “That has to be the case, right? I’m just a problem starter, I’m too suffocating, just someone you need space from?”

“That’s not what I meant.” He states after realizing how bad it sounds. “It just gets a little hard when you’re being too demanding.”

You pause, looking at him. You couldn’t wrap your mind around it. This was Jake, your Jake. The man sitting in front of you, calling you demanding, was the same man who promised you a great future.

“Tell me how I’m being demanding.” You say. “Am I too much when I ask to eat dinner with you? Is it too overbearing when I just need a night with no interruption, just one night where you’re not focused on work or going out with your squad?”

He stands now too. “You make it sound easy.”

“Because it can be!” You snap. “It can be easy but you aren’t trying! Jake, I need you to try.”

He runs his hand through his hair, groaning before lashing out in his own way. “I am trying, for fuck sakes! Do you honestly know how hard it is to try and balance everything?” His tone is rough and it startles you. You stand, looking up at him. He doesn’t let you get a next word in, he just continues. “So I miss out on a few dinners, there are bigger things I need to deal with.”

You scoff, huffing. “A few dinners? Jake, you’ve been treating me like I’m your casual girlfriend and not the woman you’re marrying. Hell, who knows if we’re even getting married at this point, it’s like I’m torturing you when I talk about it.”

“Of course we’re getting married.” He rolls his eyes, thinking you’re being overly dramatic.

“You could’ve fooled me.” You say, arms crossed over your chest. “Jake, I am your partner, that means something.”

“I know that! I know it means something, you think I don’t feel like shit already? I do, trust me, I know how fucked up I’ve been.” Jake snaps, tone utterly deep and it rumbles from his throat.

“Then why do you do it?” You ask, voice wavering. You didn’t want to cry, but it felt like your heart was breaking.

He clenched his jaw. “I don’t know what else to do, you don’t understand.”

“I could understand if you’d just fucking talk to me!”

You weren’t a very loud person, you were always very calm and collected, but standing in your bedroom, looking at your fiancé who was being far too confusing, all you wanted to do is scream. A thousand thoughts run through your mind, your insecurities rage.

Jake just looks at you, chewing his tongue. His silence makes things worse.

You take in a breath. “Is it…is it really me?” You begin to ask, hand on your uneasy stomach. “Am I so hard to talk to? I feel like I’ve been right behind you this entire time, ready for whatever you need. Have I not made you feel that way? Or-or is it you? You don’t want me by your side anymore?”

His eyes soften, he shakes his head. “No, no.” He mumbles but tears are already falling down your face.

“Is it someone else? Is there someone else?” Your shoulders shake.

He comes forward swiftly, gently gripping your arms. He looks you dead in the eye. “No. Don’t ever think that.”

“Then what’s the real problem? Please!” You plead.

“It’s me!” He shouts back. “It’s my fear, it’s my stress and I haven’t figured out how to move forward withe life and have all these damn changes!”

Your lip quivers, watching him work through his thoughts.

Jake breathes heavy. “I got moved up the ranks, I have all these new responsibilities I thought I could handle with ease but I can’t. I’m st-”

He chokes on the word.

“I’m s-struggling and I hate that.” He steps back, motioning to you next. “And I’m taking it out on you and I don’t know why, it’s like being around you too often reminds me that I promised you an easy life and right now, that’s not what I can offer.”

You soften, still crying but not for yourself. You come to reach up, pushing his hair back slightly.

“I’m not marrying you for an easy life, I’m marrying you because I love you, Jake. That means being the only one you can come to at the end of the day. The stress and fear won’t scare me, okay? What scares me is the idea of you disappearing.” You softly ensure, stroking his cheek with your thumb.

He sighs and pulls your hand away, intertwining it with his. “I’m an ass. I’m a really big ass, sweetheart, I’m sorry.”

His other warm hand wipes your face clean of any tears. You smile. “I’ll only forgive you if you promise to talk to me about things from now on.”

Jake smiles, then kisses your forehead. “I promise.”

As the two of you lay in bed, you turn over to wrap your arm around his middle, head on his chest as you tangle your legs with his. His calloused hand slides up and down your back.

“I’d be okay with a Spring wedding.” Jake says, breaking comfortable silence.

You adjust to look up at him. “Spring?”

He nods. “Yeah, I think you’ll look nice next to all those colors.”

You grin and lay your head back down. “Spring time it is.”

[holylulusworld]

Seven Days

Summary: Alpine misses you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of a fight/argument, a lil fluff

It’s been seven days - one hundred sixty-eight hours - ten thousand and eighty minutes.

She steps inside the empty room and sits down on the ground. For a few moments, she sits there, looking left and right to find any trace of you.

“Alpine,” Bucky’s heart aches even more watching his cat sit in the empty room. “She’s gone, punk.”

Alpine stubbornly sits in the room. She lies down and meows loudly.

“Alpine…” Bucky tries to get his cat to leave the room. He places a bowl with Alpine’s favorite food next to his cat. “You need to eat something.”

His cat ignores Bucky. The white furball lies on the ground, still meowing.

“She won’t come back,” Bucky murmurs as he slowly sits beside his cat. He pats Alpine’s head, feeling even sorrier for his cat. “It’s all my fault.”

It was a moment of anger driving you away. He doesn’t remember how the fight began, only the end of it.

“If you are unhappy, maybe you should leave and never return. I didn’t ask you to love me or take care of me. You knew that I’m damaged goods.”

He sighs deeply making Alpine meow even louder. The cat jumps back up to nuzzle Bucky’s hand. It’s like Alpine can feel Bucky’s pain.

“I don’t deserve her, never deserved her. I should’ve stayed away from her. I knew that sooner than later she’d find out that I was not the man she wanted. If only I wasn’t so ruined.”

The cat sits next to Bucky, curling in his side to get more pats. “Did you ever believe that I was good enough for her?” He drops his head, shaking it slightly. “I guess not. Everyone told her to not fall for me. I heard her friends talk about me more than once. She was too nice to tell me the truth.”

Bucky buries his face in his hands. He chokes out a sob as the words he threw in your direction echo in his mind.

“I can’t give you what you want, and I don’t want to. Why drag things out? Let’s just face reality.”

He sniffles silently. “She will find someone better, Alpine. It’s better this way, believe me, punk. We shouldn’t have asked her to move in with us.”

Alpine lifts her head, she looks at her owner and meows loudly before running out of the empty room.

“You too, Alpine?” Bucky huffs. “Of course, you’d love to live with her. I’d be the same if I was you. She always bought the best snacks and toys for you.”

He looks over his shoulder when Alpine begins to meow louder. Bucky slowly gets back up. He doesn’t want Alpine to suffer only because he fucked things up between the two of you.

“Punk, what’s wrong?” He calls for his cat. Bucky wipes his wet eyes to look around the apartment. “Alpine?”

He can hear his cat in the bedroom. Alpine purrs low in her throat, a sound Bucky only ever heard when you patted his cat. The white cat is a little bratty and believes she’s a queen most of the time, but he loves her.

“Alpine?” Bucky tiptoes inside the bedroom. He stares at the bed, eyes wetting with fresh tears.

“Aw, your fur is less shiny, baby kitten,” you coo while patting Alpine. The cat is currently curled in your lap and purrs loudly. “Did he forget to brush you daily? I bet he did.” You conclude. “I’m away for seven days and your fur looks awful.”

“I brushed her daily,” Bucky murmurs. He steps closer to the bed to watch you groom his cat. He smiles because you placed a bag filled with new toys and snacks for the cat on the bed. “She’s a little sassy lately.”

You look at the cat, not Bucky as he steps closer, and closer. “I was looking for a new apartment, a place to call home.”

“Okay,” he whispers.

“I went from one end of town to the other, searching for a perfect place but,” you shake your head and sniffle, “my home is where you and Alpine are and…” You get something out of the bag, pressing it to your heart. “I don’t know if you wanted to know or not but…”

Bucky sits on the bed. He holds out his hand for whatever you want to show him. He inhales sharply when you place a pregnancy test in his hand. “I…I thought…they said I can’t… they said I’m sterile…”

“Obviously, you can give me what I want,” you dip your head to glance at Bucky. “I just don’t know if you want to be part of this wonder.”

He chokes on his tears while pressing the test to his heart. Bucky got so mad because he believed that he couldn’t give you a baby. Now everything changed and he doesn’t know if you will forgive him.

“You’re my wonder,” he sniffles. Bucky moves closer to take your hand in his hand. “Always were.”

“So…can we turn the room into a nursery?” You look at him, tears in your eyes. “If you don’t—”

He cups your face with both hands to kiss you softly. “I want to. More than anything…”

Tags in reblog.

[hxneyhxrts]

Switzerland || James “Bucky” Barnes

warning: smut, unprotected sex, impact play (rough), explicit language, degradation, maybe dacryphilia

“Give me a fucking break, Y/N,” Bucky groaned.

Two hours.

They had been bickering for two hours.

It had started with a mission. A quick rendezvous for some data Sam had requested from a sister agency overseas. Y/N had figured it might be nice to get out and travel a bit.

Wrong.

“Give you a break? James, we are in Sweden! Sweden. The rendezvous was supposed to be in Switzerland. I mean, you have to understand why this is frustrating!”

“I messed up! Would you relax?”

Bucky slid the keycard into their hotel door, shouldering his way in. It was a last minute booking, since they hadn’t meant to be here in the first place. Thanks to James.

Bucky cursed under his breath, and Y/N peeked over his shoulder to see what was wrong.

Sick.

“Oh great. You booked a room with one bed. Awesome,” Y/N snarked. She shook her head in disappointment. “You know, I should’ve probably taken over booking and planning when you landed us in the wrong fucking country, but it seems I haven’t learned my lesson yet.”

“Would you just fucking drop it? I said I was sorry!” Bucky bit out.

Y/N scowled. “Sorry doesn’t fix the fact that we’re in fucking Sweden, James. Someone has to explain this to-”

“Stop calling me that.”

She paused mid-sentence. “Calling you what?”

Bucky heaved a sigh. “James. You can be mad at me, but please just… stop calling me that. You never call me that.”

All the fight left her then. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself a moment of quiet to calm down.

“I’m gonna take a shower. Don’t wait up.”

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

The hot water did little to relax Y/N’s nerves, but she was clean. And if she took an extra 15 minutes to just stand there and enjoy the quiet, well that was her business.

But she couldn’t stay there forever. She knew a fight sat unfinished on the other side of the door, and the longer she stayed in the quiet of the bathroom, the longer she pushed off a resolution.

So with a sigh, she pushed back the shower curtain and fumbled for her towel. She spent much longer than necessary drying off, avoiding the inevitable while she could.

Once her skin was thoroughly dry (and beginning to pink in the spots she had rubbed too much), she gave in to the gnawing in her stomach. She reached for her pajamas with a sigh, mentally going over how to diffuse the fight that waited for her.

Her hand met the empty countertop.

Y/N’s brows furrowed. She spun around, surveying the bathroom for her clothes.

Nothing.

Because this was supposed to be a day trip.

You don’t pack pajamas for a day trip.

Y/N wanted to scream. Because of course this would be happening. Her shit show day had reached its dirty grimy claws into the evening.

Her annoyance reared its head again, and she had to keep herself from storming out and shouting at Bucky once more for getting them in this predicament.

But she bit her tongue, and cracked the door just a sliver. “Bucky?”

Shuffling. Then, “Yeah?”

Her cheeks were already burning from embarrassment. “I didn’t bring pajamas. Do you mind calling down to the front desk and asking for a robe or something?”

“Y/N, it’s like nine o’clock. The receptionist has probably gone home by now.”

Her irritation flared. “Can you just check? The only other option is putting on the clothes I wore today and they’re filthy.”

She heard an annoyed curse and more movement. Then a metal hand was sliding in the gap in the door, a t-shirt hanging from its fingers.

“Here,” came a grunt through the wood.

A flush crept down Y/N’s chest. “I don’t-”

“Would you stop fucking arguing for once, and just take it?”

“I still don’t have any pants!”

“It’s a long shirt, you won’t need them! Just put it on and fucking relax.”

The sheer command in his voice would have been enough to make her listen, nevermind the fact that Bucky had always had her wrapped around his finger. So with a huff that sounded more pathetic than grumpy, she snatched the shirt and slammed the door.

The shirt was quintessential Bucky. Plain, dark, simple. It hung just past her hips, a bit too short to be considered decent.

“I knew it,” she growled. But there was no use in pouting about it now. It was clean and comfortable (and warm).

It took every ounce of security (and maybe insanity) to open the door and walk out. She refused to look at Bucky, but she could still feel his eyes like a physical weight on her body. After several rather awkward seconds, he cleared his throat.

“I’m not sleeping on the floor. So either you make yourself cozy down there, or we’re splitting the bed.”

Not even two minutes in, and he had found her last nerve. Found it, poked at it, sank his teeth into it, shredded it. “I’m not sleeping on the floor.”

“Well I guess that settles it.”

What a shit day.

With a pout, Y/N pushed her way under the duvet, taking notice of how small the bed seemed to feel with Bucky in it. Her thigh brushed his and she bit back her gasp.

“Are you wearing pants?”

“No. Neither are you. Leave me alone and go to sleep.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and curled under the blankets. She had almost dozed off when a sharp tug on the covers disrupted her. “Do you mind?”

“You’re hogging all the blankets. Do you mind?” Bucky hissed.

And just to piss him off more, Y/N yanked the blankets enough to leave him exposed to the chill in the air.

“Are you serious? What are you, 5?”

“Do we really want to start talking about ages, you old fuck?”

Bucky groaned and reached for the bedside lamp, bathing the room in darkness. “Fine. Whatever. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

The peace in the room settled and remained for maybe five minutes.

Until…

“Would you stop pouting?”

Y/N threw her hands up incredulously. “I’m not pouting!”

“Yes. You are.”

“How would you even know?”

“I can just tell. It’s irritating me. Now stop,” Bucky spat.

“That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Y/N’s not sure how it happened, or what set it off exactly. But Bucky had gripped the back of her neck and pulled her face to hover above his too quickly for her to prepare, her hands falling to his chest to balance herself. Bucky’s fingers dug into the nape of her neck with a bruising grip, and he soon brought his metal ones up to grab her jaw.

“Enough,” he growled.

With her head caged between his hands, she had no room to move, let alone reply. It wasn’t necessary though, as Bucky pushed through, his tone turning razor sharp.

“Enough with the pouting. Enough with the disobedience. Enough with the smart ass comments. Enough with calling me ‘James’. Enough. I’ve had enough. You can’t seem to help yourself from being a pain in my ass. I’m over it. Everyone else wants to kiss your ass, I’m not gonna do that. I want-”

He stopped. His teeth bared and gritted.

So it came as a shock when his lips crashed into hers with a force so staggering, she would’ve fell back if not for his hands holding her in place.

The kiss was urgent. Desperate. It was teeth, and tongues, and lips, and spit, and lust. Y/N struggled to catch her breath, but feared breaking away to break whatever spell had fallen over them.

“Such a fucking waste,” Bucky groaned. “A mouth like this, and all you do is pout and whine with it.”

The hand on the back of her neck slid up to her hair, and with a yank he had her throat bared where he sat up to meet it. His teeth nipped at her neck, roughly biting at the skin there. Y/N threw her head back in ecstasy, biting back a moan that threatened to slip.

A warm trickle slid down her neck.

Y/N pushed Bucky off by the shoulders, her hands flying to her neck. “Am I-” she stuttered. “Am I bleeding?”

“That should be the least of your worries right now.”

And before she could protest, he had pinned her on her back. “I am going to fuck you hard enough that you feel me every time you sit down. Every time you mouth off. Every time you touch yourself,” he continued, kissing a trail down her stomach. “I am going to ruin you.”

That didn’t sound so terrible.

The moment Bucky put his mouth on her, her eyes rolled to the back of her head. This had to be some sort of punishment. To be laid out in front of someone she despised and fall apart like this. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, small gasps managing to escape.

“You can do better than that,” Bucky urged.

And yes. She could. When his tongue did a particularly sinful circle around her clit, the whine that left her cut through the air loud enough that she briefly thought of whoever might be in the room next door. But when Bucky repeated the action, drawing another series of whimpers from her, she found she didn’t care.

A groan sounded, and the vibrations from it rang through her core. “Just like that,” Bucky gasped.

His mouth returned with a vengeance, licking and sucking at her like a man starved. She couldn’t have held her mewls and whimpers to herself if she tried, embarrassment be damned.

“Please,” she gasped. “I’m gonna-”

“No.”

Bucky pulled back at once, and her core throbbed at the loss of contact. Y/N sat up on her elbows, poised to protest.

“There’s that pout again.”

And yes, she was pouting.

But who could blame her?

“If I see that pout again, I’m knocking it off your fucking face.”

She immediately sobered and set her mouth straight.

Bucky smiled. “Good girl.”

Fuck.

Y/N keened high in her throat, the sound leaving without her intending it to. A flush crept up her cheeks.

Bucky’s grin looked like it might split his cheeks.

“Oh?” he teased. “Did you like that?”

His hands snaked up her waist, pushing his shirt higher on her torso, inches of skin creeping out bit by bit. His fingers, both flesh and metal burned her skin as they trailed up her sides. She gasped as his hands finally cupped her breasts.

“You like being told how good you are? You like being my good girl?”

Y/N whined, her hands moving to grab at Bucky’s wrists. Something to anchor her, she supposed.

Or just an excuse to touch him.

“You want me to tell you how pretty you look like this? Spread out and whining for me? Wearing my shirt?”

It was becoming too much: the way his hands grabbed at her skin, the way his breath fanned over her face, the words he was speaking.

“Please,” she begged.

“Use your words.”

“Fuck, please,” she tried. “I need you.”

Bucky smirked. “Where? Where do you need me?”

This was torture. She had seen the worst of humanity. She had fought the worst of humanity. But this was pure, unadulterated punishment.

And she loved it.

“Please,” she rasped.

Bucky chuckled, a sound that raked down her nerves. “Only because you asked so nicely.”

He plunged two metal fingers deep in her core, the cold biting into the lining of her walls. It stung, but it was wonderful.

“God,” Y/N gasped, a newfound sense of euphoria washing over her.

“You feel so soft,” Bucky rasped, kissing the space between her breasts with a tenderness that was unlike him.

It was too much. The cool steel of his fingers stung and her whimpering was fueled by the way they curled inside her.

“I knew you’d like this,” Bucky rasped. His hand pushed harder, deeper, until he was stroking just out of reach of where she really wanted him. “I always thought you’d be responsive, but this…” Another kiss. “This is better than I could have ever imagined.”

“Bucky,” Y/N moaned.

He paused. His lips hovered just above her nipple and his fingers stilled inside her. “Fuck, say it again.”

And so she did.

“Bucky.”

“Fuck, good girl,” he groaned, plunging back in with a renewed vigor. “You’re getting me all wet, baby. Look how pretty you look taking my fingers. Already whining, and I’ve barely touched you.” He dove in for her mouth this time, lips borderline bruising. He spoke against her mouth in a tone that sent heat rushing through her. “I can’t wait to see what you do with my cock in you.”

“I’m gonna-”

“No you’re not,” he growled, pulling his fingers away. Y/N groaned, but was cut short by a hand at her throat.

“Enough. Whining. I won’t tell you again,” Bucky hissed.

He tightened his grip around her throat, and her vision immediately blurred. Bucky smirked. “Good.”

Then he was inspecting his fingers, watching the way her essence dripped down the metal of his hand. Another groan.

“Open,” he commanded. Y/N’s lips parted, her tongue darting out eagerly. Bucky slid two metal fingers into her waiting mouth, pushing them back far enough to brush the back of her throat. Her eyes watered as she gagged, but she kept her mouth open all the same.

“So pretty.”

It was intoxicating, the taste of herself on the tang of metal, and she greedily lapped at his digits while he thrusted them past her lips. She had just started to lose herself when he pulled his fingers away.

His now spit-slick metal hand dug into the flesh on her ass when he had managed to (easily) manhandle her onto her front, leaving her gasping into the pillow at the sting. Her scorching flesh burned hotter against the cool brush of vibranium. Y/N’s entire body was on fire, made worse by the intensity and heat of Bucky’s gaze sliding over her skin. She was still lost in that feeling when she jumped against the sheets with a whimper, Bucky’s hand soothing over the now sore spot he had left after striking the flesh underneath.

“That one was for snapping at me all day,” he taunted, a smirk evident in his voice as he raised his hand again. Y/N braced herself for the strike, but still cried out when it landed. “And that, is for calling me ‘James’,” he growled out.

She was panting, breath ragged and sharp in her lungs. “You-” she gasped out as his fingers drew lazy circles over the marks he had left on her ass. “You can’t-”

“I can,” he hissed, wrenching her head back by her hair. “And you’re going to take everything I give you.”

Any sane person would’ve refused. Kicked him off of them with a snide comment and gone to bed, maybe even pretending this never happened to salvage any scrap of dignity left after everything that had happened.

“Got it?” Bucky growled with another tug to her hair.

“Yes, sir,” she groaned back.

The older man sighed contentedly, releasing his grip on her hair and dragging both hands down her spine slowly. “I think you’ve had enough spanking for now.”

A small surge of something close to panic roared through her, panic at losing this feeling, and the sting she could still feel on her ass.

“No!” Y/N gasped out before she could stop herself, too far gone to feel the bite of embarrassment at her words. Bucky’s hands stilled on her hips, and his fingers flexed against her skin.

“No?”

“Please,” she nearly whispered. “Please keep going.”

Silence hung, low and heavy around them for several moments. Had it not been for the weight of his hands still on her, Y/N would’ve thought he left.

Then, a groan, low and guttural, like the sound was being punched out of him. Bucky’s hand slid around the front of her neck, the heat of his flesh seeping into her throat. His grip was tight enough to pull her head up, but just barely. Suddenly, his mouth was right next to her ear, tone low and threatening, much like one he used when speaking to their targets.

“This is your last chance to tell me to cool off before I ruin you,” he bit out.

It was as good of a warning as she was gonna get, Y/N knew from their time together on missions, seeing the “Winter Soldier” firsthand. A sick thrill ran through her blood.

“Please,” she insisted.

A resounding ‘smack’ rang through the air as Bucky brought down his other hand against her ass, metal impacting soft skin. Y/N arched back against him, simultaneously running from and chasing the feeling.

More smacks followed, each one worse than the last. Her resolve was crumbling beneath her with each blow. Sensing her drop, Bucky smoothed both hands over her abused cheeks with a smirk.

“What happened to begging? Hm?” he taunted, digging his fingers into her already bruising skin just to see her hiss and try to pull away.

“Please,” she slurred against the pillow.

Bucky laughed, a mean and cruel sound. “Is that all you know how to say now? Have I already fucked you that stupid? I’ve barely touched you sweet girl.”

Y/N’s head was reeling, an emotional whiplash pounding at her temples as he mocked her and soothed the bite all in one breath.

“I need you inside me. Need to feel you,” she whimpered out, writhing as his hands pressed her further into the mattress.

Bucky muttered a sharp ‘fuck’ under his breath, before recomposing himself. She could hear the shuffle of him ridding himself of his pants, and she held her breath when she felt the rigid line of him press against her already sore ass.

Y/N keened high in her throat and pressed her hips back into his harder. Bucky pulled back just barely, teasing her.

“You sure about this?”

And maybe it was the gentle note of sincerity staining his voice that made her head swim, but Y/N found her breath catching once again.

“Please,” she insisted again.

And then Bucky was pressing into her slowly, inch by torturous inch, until he was seated all the way to the hilt with a strangled moan. Words failed Y/N as she felt the head of his cock pressing into the deepest and most intimate part of her, already leaving her aching in his wake.

Bucky dug his fingers into her flesh, pulling her back against him to sink into her even further. It was overwhelming, the way he filled every space within her, leaving her no room to even breathe. He was unlike any other partner she had ever had, and Y/N had the sick feeling she may never be satisfied with anyone else. She wrapped her fingers around the smooth metal of Bucky’s wrist, dragging his hand up to settle around her throat once more. The older man’s grip stayed loose where it rested against the skin of her neck as he let out a shallow breath.

“Don’t,” he panted. “Don’t do that. I don’t think I can be gentle with you if we start that.”

It was sick, so sick, the thrill that thrummed through her veins at the thought of Bucky, the Winter Soldier, stringing her out and using her body in that brutal way that only he could.

It was that same thrill (and slight mania) that sent her over the edge of insanity (and stupidity).

“Is that so?,” she gritted out with as much teasing in her voice as she could. She felt him tense behind her, deadly quiet and still as he waited for her to continue. “Or are you just worried you won’t have enough bite to match your bark?”

It was the wrong thing to say.

Bucky’s fingers tightened around her throat to the point of it being painful, her breathing slowing to almost a stand still. His hot breath ran across her ears as he leaned in to whisper, “I’m going to enjoy every fucking second of this.”

The pace he set was immediately brutal, leaving no time for her to adjust to the sheer size and force of him. The sharp curve of hip bones dug into her ass almost painfully with every thrust as he filled her to the hilt. Words failed her completely, nothing but wanton moans stuttering out between her ragged breathing. Normally, she’d have the sense to be embarrassed about her volume altogether, but this was not the same run-of-the-mill hookups she was used to. This was untamed and raw and torturous.

Another moan slipped between her rough-bitten lips, and then Bucky was slipping his grip up to her chin and cheeks to grab her face hard and turn her head painfully to meet his wild eyes.

“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed, pushing her face away again before dropping his hand against the flesh of her bottom once again, leaving a sting in its wake.

His manhandling only made that pit in her stomach worse, and Y/N clenched her jaw to stifle the whimpers free flowing from her mouth. It only seemed to spur the soldier behind her even more.

His cock was dragging against her walls sinfully, and she wondered if she had ever felt this full before. Or if she’d ever feel this full again.

“You want everyone in this goddamn hotel to hear you?” Bucky ground out when yet another pathetic sound escaped her. He pulled his hips back just enough to slip out of her before yanking her up by the arm to roll her over onto her back. The intimacy of facing him as he dismantled her piece by piece was overwhelming, and Y/N nearly cowered away from the heat of his stare as it roved over exposed form, but Bucky was quickly slipping his cock back into her and she was keening once again.

Bucky’s hand reared back quickly, and Y/N braced herself for the slap to fall against her ass, but gasped when the strike landed across her cheek. Tears immediately welled up in her eyes at the burn, but the moan that tore from her throat betrayed her arousal at the impact.

The older man towering over her laughed, a full and mocking sound that made her want to simultaneously sink back and chase the cadence of it. His tone was nothing short of taunting when he sneered at her. “You’re getting off on this.”

Her cheeks burned again, this time from shame instead of smacking, and she pulled into herself just barely. It was humiliating to be this vulnerable in front of him, but the thrill of him seeing every dirty part of her and fueling all of it gave her a sick sort of satisfaction.

“You like when I get rough with you, pretty girl? You like it when I treat you like the whore you are?” he crooned, a gentle hand smoothing down her cheek as his thrusts picked up even more. That same hand gripped her cheeks hard enough to make her lips pucker, a smile pulling up at his lips as her pupils blew out. “My little whore. All mine.”

Mine.

Y/N whined, that knot tightening even further. “Please,” she gasped out for what felt like the hundredth time.

Bucky smirked. “Please, what? What is it, baby?”

Any other day, his teasing would’ve earned him a lashing from her, but she only found it more and more enticing now. “I need to cum,” she panted, on the verge of tears. “Please let me cum.”

She could see the effect her begging had on him, his eyes darkening considerably. “I don’t know-”

A choked sob broke from her chest, a single tear rolling down her cheek hotly. It was all too much, and she had the feeling she’d combust if he didn’t grant her relief. “Please,” she begged once again, more desperate now.

“Fuck,” Bucky gritted out between clenched teeth, eyes zeroing in on the path of the tear staining her cheek. “Cum for me, sweet girl.”

She could have wept as the wave of euphoria swept over her, pulling her under fast and hard and wracking through her body with an intensity she had never felt before. She clenched around Bucky’s shaft like a vice, and she felt him twitch before he was spilling into her with mutters of “all mine”. His thrusting continued as she rode out her high and even long after it had passed, making her whine at the sensitivity. He only pulled out when she weakly shoved at his shoulder, too overstimulated to take much more.

They were both panting as they stared at each other, and Y/N said a silent thank you to whoever could hear her that Bucky looked just as wrecked as she felt. He pulled away from her quicker than she would have liked and retreated to the bathroom. She heard the faucet turn and on and off before he reemerged with a wet rag. Her face flushed as he nudged her knees open and made to wipe at his seed dripping out of her before she stopped him with a hand to the wrist.

He leveled her with a look that made her toes curl, that same bit of dominance she had seen firsthand creeping into the expression. “I was just inside you, and now you’re trying to keep me from cleaning you up?” Y/N swallowed, still too embarrassed to let him take care of her like this. Bucky scoffed, and his voice turned stern. “Move your hand. Now.”

And even though they were done with whatever had just happened between them, Y/N found herself obeying the order. Her partner took care to clean her up gently before tossing the rag aside in the small pile of dirty linens they had accumulated. He slid into bed next to her, lifting the sheets slightly before pulling her into him with a strong, muscle chorded arm. Silence hung around them for a moment.

“Should we talk about this?” she whispered, afraid that speaking any louder would shatter the calm.

“No,” Bucky replied simply, sinking a stone in her heart before he continued. “You need to rest right now. Talking can wait until you’ve slept.”

It was a sweet sentiment, but Y/N didn’t want to leave things unchecked just because she needed rest (even if sleep was tugging at her eyelids heavily). “Are you sure? Maybe we should-”

“It wasn’t a suggestion, you’re going to sleep,” he insisted, pulling her in tighter and tempting her with his warmth.

She gave in with a playful huff, burrowing into his chest with a private smile. It felt natural, to be with him like this.

But Bucky Barnes always has to ruin her good mood.

“Who knew bossing you around was all it took to get you to shut up.”

She rolled her eyes, even as a laugh crept up her throat. “Don’t get used to it.”

Y/N felt the smile he buried in her hair as he pecked the crown of her head.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

note: i’m not aiming for accuracy, im aiming for a good time

[leossmoonn]

Hey do you think you could write about like the reader having an attitude when she comes home from work and mikey fucks the attitude out of her?

18+ under the cut - includes: cut to sex scene, unprotected sex. abby is like at a friends house or smth so dw just bc she’s not mentioned doesn’t mean she’s in the house

this is actually the worst thing i ever wrote im sorry but this is all i could give

you slam the door shut once you get inside. you kick off your shoes rather roughly, practically throwing your keys on the coffee table. mike looks to you, a little taken aback by your demeanor. usually he’s the one coming home throwing things and stomping around. it’s not like you’re a happy-go-lucky person, but you’re not one to be this upset about something unless it’s really bad.

and honestly, you didn’t know what you were upset about. it just seemed like today was the worst day in your entire life. you’d woken up late, didn’t get to eat breakfast, had the worst lunch ever, your meetings at work were a waste of time, and traffic was bad. the list could truly go on. so you weren’t really in the mood to plant a smile on your face and pretend like you weren’t irritated.

“hey, how was work?” mike asks. “fine,” you huff, walking to your shared bedroom. you change out of your work clothes, feeling as though they were suffocating and uncomfortable all day.

mike stands up from the couch, following you. “are you sure it was fine?”

“yes, mike!” you shout. “can you just drop it?”

mike reaches out to touch your arm. “i just want to make sure you’re okay.”

you twist your arm out of his grip, feeling like every little thing could just set you off. “i said i’m fine.” you try to keep your cool, but you can feel anger bubbling up inside of you.

“you can talk to me, you know. i’m here for you.”

“i don’t want to talk!” you yell. “just leave me alone for fucks sake!”

mike blinks at you like you just killed somebody. “o-kay,” he says after a long pause. “sorry for checking up on you,” he mumbles.

you groan, “can you not play the self-pity, nice-guy card?”

“i’m not! this is genuinely how i feel! imagine if the roles were reversed. you’d be feeling pretty shitty, too, right?”

“no because i’d know to leave you alone,” you say matter-of-factly.

“well, i’m not going to leave you alone.”

“why?” you ask, ready to throw something.

“because i believe that you need to tell me what’s wrong so you can not have an attitude.”

“well, if you’re just going to pester me, then i’ll just leave.” you slip on a pair of slippers that are by your bed, grabbing a jacket and heading out of the bedroom.

“where are you going?” he asks. “anywhere but here!” you shout.

“you can’t just run away! you’re starting to act like me.”

“yeah, well, maybe i need to not be around you for a while, then!”

mike rolls his eyes at you, knowing you’re just saying all this because you’re mad at him for some reason. he knows he should’ve left you alone, but now the conversation has gone too deep for him to just give up.

as you put a hand on the door, mike grabs your wrist and yanks you back.

“let go, mike. i’m a grown woman and can do what i want.”

“which is precisely why you’re staying here.” he looks into your eyes, his brows furrowed with determination. his grip on you is tight, but not harmful. there are small beads of sweats lining his forehead and his cheeks are slightly flushed from becoming worked up. his eyes are wide and pupils blown out, meaning that he’s been thinking of you in some way in between your fight.

“make me,” you say lowly, in almost a whisper.

you’re on top of the kitchen counter now, sweatpants and panties scattered on the ground. mike’s shirt is somewhere in the living room along with his belt. his jeans are pooled around his legs as he leans against the counter. your nails are digging into his shoulders, head thrown back and rubbing against the cabinets. mike’s face is buried into your neck, pants and whimpers becoming muffled into your skin. his cock is throbbing inside of you as your walls clamp down around him.

“mike, oh! right there, yes!” you moan, your eyes rolling behind your eyelids. he’s balls deep inside of you as he hits that spot expertly.

“fuck, baby. you feel so good,” he mumbles into your shoulder. he can feel your heart thud in your chest as he presses up against you. the sweat on your bodies mix as he thrusts faster. you wrap your legs around his waist, seemingly pulling him in tighter, making him push deeper inside of you. your hands grip his hair as you feel yourself orgasm and you cry out his name.

you feel him come inside of you in hot spurts, coming to a complete stop as he finishes. you both groan as he slips out of you. he grabs a piece of paper towel and wipes up his cum that’s running down your leg.

you’re still huffing and puffing, savoring the feeling of the cold wood and granite on your back and legs. mike gives you a small smile and you lean down and kiss his cheek.

“not so stressed now, huh?” he remarks. you roll your eyes and punch his shoulder. “it’s just a coincidence.”

“mm, maybe i should try this next time then and see if it correlates,” he says.

“maybe you should.”

[stars4gojo]

Let the Light in

Dad!Gojo x fem!reader // mentions of arguments & fights, angst, fluff // 947 words // gradeschool!Megumi

Gojo is used to people leaving him he believes when you die you die alone so it comes as a shock when you stay.

More of my work 🤍

You silently sit and stare at the boy across your dinner table - unable to find the right words. To say that you’re mad is an understatement, Satoru is late again, and your 7-year-old boy got into another fight. You impatiently tap your foot, wrapping your arms around your chest while Megumi eats up his sandwich.

The door suddenly opens and Gojo walks in, a box of cake in his hand and a big cheeky smile on his face.

You sigh exasperatedly as you turn to your clock and then to him, “Do you know how late you are Satoru? We’ve been waiting for almost an hour now.” You speak sternly.

“I’m sorry princess but I had to buy this little celebratory cake, Megumi did win his first fight.” Gojo replied as your eyes twitched in irritation.

“So, champ did you tuck your thumb in every punch.” Gojo bended down to Megumi as he patted his head.

“He used cursed energy to beat up 4 sixth graders.” You deadpanned before Megumi could say anything.

Gojo got up as his mouth dropped agape.

“You should’ve said so! I would’ve bought some party streamers with the cake.” Gojo replied as he snorted at his joke.

“Satoru this is serious, our 7-year-old child is beating up sixth graders with cursed energy - it could lead to big and i mean big injuries.” You frowned as you saw Megumi put his head down in shame.

“You understand what you did wrong right Gumi?” You added as he nodded shyly.

“I’m sorry” he replied curtly.

“Promise you won’t do it again” you spoke as you held out your pinky that he gladly accepted with a small smile.

“Thank you, now go to your room.” You said as his small figure dragged his feet to his room.

You knew that you would speak to him again privately about the situation but for now you had to deal with your man child of a boyfriend.

Now you turn towards Gojo who’s still standing there with little to no interest in the conversation.

“Toru what was that about? You can’t be congratulating or be excited for him when he’s getting into fights - you cannot encourage this behaviour.” You started speaking as your eyebrows squeezed in disappointment.

“Look y/n he is my child on papers so I think I can decide what to do.” He replied putting emphasis on the word “my”.

Your mouth fell slightly in shock as your eyebrow raised.

“No- no that’s not what I meant” He quickly added but the damage was already done.

“Okay Satoru, since Megumi is your child and he has absolutely nothing to do with me, I’ll be taking my leave.” You said as tears slowly formed in your eyes.

“Wha- that’s not what I me- where will you even go?” He asked hurriedly - now he’s worrying.

“That’s none of your business.” You spoke while grabbing your bag.

And just like that you were out the door.

-

It’s been 6 hours since you left, Gojo finished giving Megumi and Tsumiki their dinner (he ordered in McDonald’s) and even tucked them into bed - giving them little reassurances that you’re gone to Aunty Shoko’s house for a sleepover. But your two children were clever, they knew something was up, the little screaming match was not left unheard and Gojo’s worried glances towards his phone were not left unnoticed. But they also knew better than to question your love for them they knew you were different than biological parents - they trusted you completely to return.

Gojo flopped on the couch as he stared up at the ceiling, he sighed exhaustedly as it finally hit him - you had left.

He tried calling every number of every person you could possibly stay with, the only person who hadn’t picked up was Shoko no matter how many times he called so he assumed you were with her.

The silence slowly engulfs him as he looks back on the moment, he thinks to himself why he would ever say that. When he adopted Megumi and Tsumiki you two had promised each other that you were in this together. This silence grows by every second and he thinks he’s used to it - the same silence was there when his grandmother had passed, when he left geto to die and now it’s back to taunt him after you left.

His train of thoughts is stopped when he hears the door lock click, he turns his head comically fast to see you standing there giving him a tight-lipped smile.

He runs up to you as he takes you in his arms; not giving you any time to react.

“I’m sorry I’m so sorry you know I didn’t mean that right?” He spoke quickly as if you were going to disappear any second now.

“I love you so much and it was so wrong for me to even think that you’re any less of a parent to them.” He added as you let go of his embrace.

“I’m sorry Toru I shouldn’t have left, you’re right I’m not any less of a parent and it really hurt me to hear you say it.” You spoke with a slight frown still apparent on your lips.

“I know I know I promise I’ll never ever say that again so please don’t ever leave us to go to Shokos again.” He replied with a pout as you giggled in response.

“Alright your big baby, let’s get to bed?” You added as you grabbed his arms to interlock with yours and headed to bed where he would cuddle you all night.

'Cause I like to love, to love, to love, to love you I hate to hate, to hate, to hate, to hate you

[stevebabey]

ok brain whipped up this concept & would NOT leave it alone today so here. have this. this is like ‘started making it. had a breakdown. bon appétit’ in a steddie post for me but alas <3 cw: talks of past sexual coercion

Eddie is mad at Steve.

Which, honestly, might be the worst thing in the entire damn world for all Steve cares. The whole world feels just a little bit off kilter when Eddie’s mad at Steve — because Eddie just loooves the silent treatment.

He’ll usually make a show of it. Pout and stick out his bottom lip, cross his arms, maybe even give a stamp on his big booted feet. Doesn’t say what’s wrong, just glares sulkily. It’s a bit childish, they both know, but Eddie likes to be doted and Steve loves to do the doting — and it hasn’t caused any proper fights yet.

This time, however, he can tell Eddie is more mad than usual, because this time he hadn’t thrown the usual fuss. Instead, he’d just gone quiet. All glowers and glares. Not even a pout, and certainly not a peep.  

And it’s just the worst because the version of Eddie that Steve knows best is a chatterbox. Can’t shut up, won’t shut up. Steve normally loves it.

And alright— maybe Steve deserved it for not picking him up after one of Eddie’s gigs. Especially because Eddie had specifically asked him too as well, considering his own van was in the shop.

But it’s not like Steve could control when his parents decided to waltz back into Hawkins!

They always seemed to run on their own timetable, or on what seemed like an entirely different orbit. Yet, they had no trouble roping Steve back into their routine, stuffing him back into a place, without any regard to his opinion on the matter. Which was exactly what they had done that evening.

But that didn’t really matter, Steve thinks with a sigh, because he knows it’s not really just because he didn’t pick Eddie up. It was because of what Steve said.

Gareth’s mom had swung by and while Eddie had gotten an eyeful of that suspicious look that followed him everywhere since the events of the Upside Down, Eddie had gotten home safely. Majorly annoyed but safe which was what mattered most.

He had then released his said-annoyance onto Steve.

But see, Steve was already tired from the prodding and lecturing of his parents. They’d been awfully disappointed to find he had yet to move on from his job at Family Video and worse, had badmouthed his choice of friends. Had brought up Tommy and the likes, asked pointedly why Steve hadn’t been seen with them in a few months.

Steve had bit his tongue to not spew out the fact he hadn’t been seen with Tommy for years and that was unlikely to change any time soon.

So, yeah, he was wound up. And Eddie was too. A bit too impatient, a bit too cut that he’d been on the receiving end of yet another scathing interaction because Steve had been so careless to forget to pick him up.

He’d said as much, jabbing a finger and dramatically reenacting the tense conversation he’d had to have with Gareth’s mother.

It had led to a spat, which led to an argument. Steve sat on the bed in Eddie’s trailer and toyed with a loose thread as Eddie pacing before him.

“You should’ve been there.”

“I know.” Steve ground out the words, eyes on the floor, feeling too much like he was still back home, still being lectured by his father about his good-for-nothing son. The thread was coming looser in his fingers with all his fiddling.

“You know? Is that all you’re gonna say?” Eddie asked, exasperated, but the moment Steve’s lip part to respond, Eddie had steamrolled on. Gareth’s awkward smile and his mother’s tight bunched up shoulders were still fresh in his memory.

“Great! That’s just fantastic, Steve. You knew and you still didn’t show up!”

Steve’s head shot up, brow furrowed. “That’s not what I meant.”

Like a kettle coming to boil, Steve could feel some bitchy comment lurch up his throat with his growing frustration. It was easy to think of things to say to hurt Eddie, to lash out, to make it so Eddie was the one with his head bowed, voice quiet.

Steve had learned that the hard part in these moments, is biting his tongue. Swallowing back mean comments. He doesn’t want to be vicious. Loathes the idea of falling back on snarky comments to win a fight, least of all with his boyfriend.

But... old habits die hard.

So, when Eddie had got all up in his face, firing himself up, and said, “Oh, pray tell then Steve what was so important that made you fucking forget your boyfriend.”

Steve had snapped.

“Fuck, do you ever stop? You are so much sometimes!”

The words had flown out in a harsh sneer and they hit their mark exactly as intended.

Because Steve knew all about that strange bubble of fear that lives inside Eddie— the part that didn’t care at all what strangers thought of him, but cared so much about those he came to trust. The part that worried that being big and brash all the time would be too much for people. That the reason they originally liked Eddie, would become the same reason they’d eventually dislike him for.

Steve had once told him he couldn’t ever get enough of him— let alone too much. It’s why he’d known where to strike.

Eddie’s expression has flinched, his eyes going from simmering to hurt in a few seconds flat. His fists unclenched at his side and Steve had felt the regret curdling up in his gut, a terrible sour feeling that had him shooting to his feet in an instant.

“Eddie, wait, I—”

“Leave.” Eddie said, voice dangerously low. There wasn’t room to push it. Nothing left to argue.

But still, Steve had wavered, swaying as a tidal wave of shame burned hot up his neck. He wanted to fix it. He needed to fix this.

But Eddie couldn’t look at him, eyes fixed on the ground and despite how much it had pained Steve to go, he knew he couldn’t fix it, not then and there. The door had hit him on the way out.

That had been two whole days ago. The guilt of it makes it feel like it was hours ago, still fresh as ever.

Steve had been diligent in giving Eddie his space to cool off.

The call Steve made the morning after never got picked up, just rang endlessly until the voicemail kicked in. Even though Eddie was always home Wednesdays. It told Steve well enough that Eddie was still well and truly mad.

Which was fair enough. Steve had been an asshole. Let himself fall back on old habits and stab a weak spot he only knew because Eddie trusted him, then twisted the knife as well.

But it’s like he said — silent treatment from the guy who usually can’t keep quiet is discerning to say the least. It itches uncomfortably at Steve who finds himself unusually eager to apologise.

Because, damn, if Steve doesn’t hate apologising.

Apologising means pulling out the stops, means admitting shamefully everything you’d done wrong, means having to prove how sorry you were.

It had been like that living under his father. When he was seven, Tommy had accidentally pitched a baseball through one of the windows. It had smashed right through, completely shattered. Steve had taken the fall.

He’d said sorry, head bowed, even though it had been an accident. And after he’d made Steve repeat his apology til it was a rigid phrase in his mouth, Richard Harrington had said; ‘Well, why don’t you prove how sorry you are, Steven?’

He’d ended up being his father’s personal beer boy for that week. Fetching them ice-cold from the garage at his father’s every call, from the moment he was home from school, to prove the apology was legitimate.

It had worked— after a week of doting, extra effort into keeping his room clean and to keep his father happy, Richard had permitted his son a rare smile and ruffle of his hair. ‘See? I know you were sorry now.’

Steve had learnt quickly in his childhood to go to lengths to avoid trouble with his father. To avoid the tumultuous apologies he’d have to perform, jumping through hoop after hoop for forgiveness.

But even then, Steve couldn’t escape them with friends, and especially not with girlfriends.

Tilly had been like that too. She’d been Steve’s freshman girlfriend, eyeshadow baby blue and lips always glossy. When Steve did things she didn’t like —spent Saturdays with his other friends, was late to dates— she’d pout her glittery lips and bat her eyes. ‘Aren’t you gonna make it up to me?’

Steve had — had pulled out the stops, emptied his pocket change to buy her flowers, went to second base because she really wanted him to, all to prove his apology. Until Tilly was back to her sugary smiles and fluttering hazel eyes.

It had even been like that with Nancy, though not quite to that extent. Forking out his savings to buy the nicest bouquet he could find, prepared to make it up to her, even if he wasn’t quite sure if it was him who was supposed to be apologising. But she’d gone silent treatment on him, so…

So, Steve hates apologising— but even more than that, is how much he hates Eddie’s quiet. So, when his boyfriend calls the Family Video on Friday midday, when he knows Steve’s soloing, and invites him over, Steve prepares himself for the grovelling to come.

The mixtape he’d already made sits in the gearbox of his car, carried around with him since he finished it. Upon hanging up the phone, Steve’s eyes catch on the florist across the street. His mind spins with all his knowledge of Eddie’s favourites — should he get those sour candies Eddie loved so much as well?Would it be too much?

Steve scoffs at the irony of his worries, considering what he was apologising for. Besides, it was never too much. There were never enough things to show he was sorry.

And Eddie couldn’t exactly be bought — not that was what this was. But Steve knew his boyfriend preferred all things in the manner of touch. That Steve’s affection was a far higher currency than anything bought with money.

That’s fine. Steve can do that.

He’s got a whole speech planned, honest. The smudged bullet points scrawled on his palm are testament to that, there to keep him on track and Steve checks them over religiously as he drives over after his shift.

It all goes out the window when Eddie opens the door, because Steve’s heart hiccups, splutters, soars forward in his chest.

Eddie looks just the same, his usual ripped jeans and dark shirt with a band Steve doesn’t know and yet— yet.

Steve is overcome by how much he missed Eddie.

Overcome at how those two days felt like two weeks to him. His mouth opens and the words burst out, “I’m sorry.”

part two.

[mythmash]

Bouncer!Sukuna AU Pt. 8 - Yorozu

Bouncer!Sukuna x Stripper/Dancer!Reader. Warnings: MDNI 18+, bullet point fic, uncle!sukuna, toxic situationship, sukuna does not treat yorozu well, minor blood, arguing, sukuna being an asshole, knife/gun mention, a lot of makeup sex A/N: this is a collaborative work made with the amazing @pastelbunnelby, @pastelpixies & @chaoskrakenuwu Series Masterlist || Previous | Next

(On a note that'll be circled back to, it’s no secret that Sukuna fucks

He had a ton of flings before he went to prison and probably had more after he got out before you came into the picture)

He has a cleaner for his apartment

It’s the old grandma of an old colleague/former cellmate who doesn’t give a shit about who he is or what he does

Whereas your nail tech adores him, his cleaner nags the shit out of him

Why can’t he pick up his own clothes?

He needs to get better flowers for you.

He did a shit job at parking his car.

Etc, etc.

But he keeps her around cause she does a good job, she’s not nosy, and he kinda likes her

(Don’t bring up how old ladies seem to love him, he has no idea what you’re talking about)

It surprises people to learn about that because they picture Sukuna and how he is and imagine he’d probably get some kind of maid/escort service where a hot woman comes over in a barely there french maid costume and “cleans”

Circling back to the first point though...

Throughout his flings he has one recurring fling

Yorozu’s the only one who’s been to his place but only because of the convenience cause she worked close-by and he could make her leave his apartment whenever he wanted

He gets out of prison and doesn’t call her for a while fully intending to string her along because he really doesn’t like her

He’s honestly super toxic to her

He doesn’t know why she keeps coming back

But then you happen and Yorozu who??

He’s never heard that name in his life??

It's months later, a little after you’ve moved in with him and someone knocks on the door while he’s in the shower

You answer it thinking it’s the cleaning lady which - why is she here so late?? That’s weird??

And now there some woman you’ve never seen before shoving her way into the apartment??

She sees you in Sukuna’s shirt and underwear and makes a snide remark about him finally ditching the old hag and getting some good eye candy to clean up

She makes herself at home, saying things along the lines of “Must be missing me, if you’re what he’s going for now. Oh well, I’m here now so you can leave. I’m sure he’s already given you a nice tip.”

You’re two seconds from fighting this woman when Sukuna walks out in just a towel, and he doesn’t even look at Yorozu

He just looks at you like “You comin’ to bed or what, princess?”

You don’t move or say anything, looking between him and a shocked Yorozu while your brain is like I am confusion, Sukuna explain

He finally huffs and gestures to you, “This is my girlfriend. Princess, this is…the fuck’s your name again?”

Yorozu goes through 87 different emotions eventually landing on pissed because not only did he not call her, now he’s replacing her with you?

And since when did Sukuna do girlfriends?

That title should’ve gone to her first!

There's crying and yelling (Yorozu) and disgust and anger (Sukuna) as he tries to get her out of his apartment

It’s almost entertaining until she grabs your face, screaming, “You’d choose this over me?!”

And her nails are fucking sharp so it doesn’t take much for them to cut your cheek

The second Sukuna hears you whine and sees the blood it’s over

He’s dragging Yorozu out by her hair, all the way to her car in nothing but his towel and you can vaguely hear screaming and shouting

It's a wonder no one calls the cops

He doesn’t come back for a good ten minutes and he’s pissed but you can tell he’s trying to keep calm for your sake

You want to tell him you’re fine but the more you think about the angrier you get because what the fuck was that? Who the fuck was that?

He won’t answer your questions because he genuinely doesn’t give a shit about Yorozu and he’s more concerned about your face and seeing the scratches is pissing him off more and more

It turns into an argument because you won’t let him touch you until he tells you about Yorozu and he won’t explain anything until you let him look at your face

It gets heated and there’s a small moment where you think it might turn into hate sex until Sukuna says something about how he should’ve let Yorozu stay if you were going to be this annoying about it

You go quiet, turn, and lock yourself in the bedroom

Sukuna’s banging on the door, yelling at you to let him in until he hears you crying on the side and oh.

Oh no.

Why does his chest hurt? What is this feeling? Is this…guilt? He didn’t even feel this way when he killed someone. This isn’t supposed to happen.

But it does, and he feels fucking awful

Because he knows he’s a piece of shit, he knows you know he’s a piece of shit, but he’s taken care to never be a piece of shit to you

And now he’s messed that up so he gives you space and ends up on the couch in his towel, listening to you cry yourself to sleep

He doesn't get any sleep

In the morning he picks the bedroom lock and carefully, quietly, gets some clothes

He lets you sleep in, does not look at your puffy, sad, clumsily bandaged face, and leaves to go get breakfast

He treats you to breakfast in bed from your favorite place, and his hands are wandering but they’re gentle and not going anywhere inappropriate

He feels a little better being allowed to touch you even if you aren't speaking to him

But then you look at him and thank him for breakfast but you just look so heartbroken and defeated

He reaches for your cheek and you turn away, and he hates it and how it makes him feel so much because you should never look like that and it should never be because of him

Normally this would be where he'd beat someone up for you, but he can't beat himself up so he goes with the next thing that comes to mind

The words “I’m sorry” have never been in his dictionary, but they are today and he says it so genuinely it surprises both of you

Sukuna kinda feels gross about it, but then you’re telling him it’s okay and you’re smiling so who cares how he feels

He convinces you to let him look at your cheek and while he’s doing that he tells you about Yorozu

He assures you she doesn’t mean anything to him and she’s nothing compared to you and you believe him, you do...

But there’s that little voice telling you that he must’ve kept going back to her for a reason

Sukuna notices because he notices everything about you, and decides he knows exactly how he’s going to make it up to you

It starts in the shower, where he cleans you with a reverence you didn't think he was capable of

Then you move to the sink where he has you facing the mirror so he can show you how much he loves you and how stunning you are

Then the bed where he spends so much time whispering about all the ways you’re better than anyone else he’s had and won’t let you cum until he’s sure that you know you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him

After that, he puts you in charge

It’s whatever you want, whenever you want, and however you want it all day

You take him with you to get your nails done

…and take him back when you have to get them fixed after you mess one up clawing at his back when you fuck in the car right after

You get lunch and smirk at him when you order the most phallic shaped foods you can find

Nooo that’s not your foot on his crotch under the table while you’re subtly tonguing a banana split?? What is he talking about??

You take him shopping to make up for it and graciously let him pick a pair of heels for you, some lingerie for you, a vibrator for you, and whatever else with the coy promise of later

Later ends up being the fitting room, and sex shop’s employee break room, and the car again

You make dinner and he’s doing his best to distract you and yeah this has to simmer for thirty minutes? Why is he aski— oh, you’re on the counter.

Oh, he’s on his knees.

Ok, yeah.

You can work with this.

Dinner is pretty good.

Cleanup is better when he “accidentally” spills wine on your neck and insists on cleaning it up with his tongue

And oop-

Now he’s laid out the table while you ride him

Oh well, it was time for dessert anyway

After dinner you model the heels and the lingerie for him

You give him a dance or two and make sure he keeps his hands to himself until he can’t take it and you’re fucking on the couch, the floor, the coffee table, the bookcase, the wall, the door to the bedroom-

You finally get to the bed and you’ve got his knife in one hand, following its trail up his dick with your tongue

He’s about to lose his goddamn mind when you pull out the gun he keeps under his pillow and the vibrator

something something quit torturing the poor boy something something

It’s like 2am, you’re passed out, and Sukuna is still reeling from having his soul nearly fucked out of him

While he doesn’t want to ever hurt you like that again, he feels you cuddle up to him and moan his name in your sleep, and that toxic part of him thinks that it was a little bit worth it

[lottins-only]

I bet we’d have really good bed chem | aurélien tchouaméni

A/N: i wrote this on a whim lmao but lmk what yall think. inspired by the sabrina carpenter song obvi.

warning: nsfw ig. not full on smut but suggestive stuff

you see him before he does. he’s hard to miss, moving around the party surrounded by a herd of people, as if to not interact with the normies. it makes you roll your eyes. why do famous people have to make such a fuss everywhere they go?

it’s a packed house party that night in Madrid, hosted by some influencer who hangs around the rich and famous. no wonder a couple real madrid players are here. they roll red carpets for them wherever they go in these parts. you, on the other hand, have no business being at the party, but you’d slipped in as a plus one of a plus one. 

now, you’re indulging in all the free drinks, moving your body to whatever beat is playing. you and your friend are dancing together, moving among the mass of hot sweaty bodies. you’re having a time. 

that is, until some asshole steps on your foot, crushing your toes through your open toe heels. 

“Ow!” you yelp, hands flying to your feet. “What the fuck?”

“Oh mon dieu, I’m  sorry” a deep, accented voice says while a firm hand on your arm steadies you. you look up to find its owner, and lo and behold it’s mr. aurelien tchouameni himself, madrid’s resident pretty boy.

he has the audacity to smirk at you while you’re still wincing in pain, dragging his eyes up your sheer black dress languidly. eyes pause at your cleavage before moving up to your face again. you yourself take stock of what’s in front of you; it’s not everyday you see someone so famous, and you gotta admit, so handsome up close. he’s dressed in a white bomber jacket and a pair of dark skinny jeans. that second part alone should’ve given you the ick but his beautiful face makes up for his disastrous fashion sense:  plump, full lips. high cheekbones. jawline that could cut glass. deep brown eyes. he smiles a knowing smile, licking his lips. he knows you think he’s hot, of course he does. 

“what’s your name?” he asks, hand still on your arm.

“y/n” 

“I’m aurelien”

no shit, you think.

you shake hands, eyes locked. 

“pretty name” you say

“pretty face” He says without skipping a beat. you smile involuntarily.

someone shoves past you in that moment, pushing you forward. you try to steady yourself, one hand instinctively landing on his chest. you almost gasp; he might as well have been made with stone the way his muscled chest is hard. you fight every desire you have to move your hand around the ridges of his abs, feel him up a bit.

he smirks again, leaning down close to your ear.

“need a hand or do you just like what you see?” His breath is hot against your neck, making you shiver.

you quickly snatch your hand away, flushing hotly. he caught you red handed, like he read your mind.  when he leans back up his eyes are twinkling with mischief. bitch, you think.

“y/n, do you want to –”

he’s interrupted by one of his people whispering in his ear. He turns to you, apologetic again. 

“give me your phone” He says. when you just give him a confused look, he takes the device out of your hand and deftly puts in his contact details, sliding the phone back into your palm in seconds. your breath hitches at the feeling of your fingers touching. 

“i have to go” he says, then looks down at your feet. “sorry again”

he winks, flashing you a smile. then he’s gone. you shift to the side as his entourage moves, trying to avoid getting trampled on again. 

you stay up a little later that night, staring at his contact on your phone, wishing you’d been the one to give him your number so he could reach out first. no one left you tongue tied like that, but the thing is, he’s so hot. So, here you are.  

a couple days go by and your friend lets you know that the person who invited her to party reached out asking for your instagram. apparently, a friend of that person's friend met you at the party and wanted to connect. your friend asks if its ok to pass along your handle, and you hesitantly say yes, hoping, wishing, it's him and not some rando you don't remember meeting.

you get the notification on instagram that night: aurelientchm has requested to follow you!

you wait an hour to accept his request, and his message is instant: what does a guy have to do to get a text from you?

you type back: not step on my feet for starters 

touché, he responds within seconds.  you keep texting, flirting. you find you have a lot of the same tastes in music, movies, and also the same humor, so it’s pretty easy to make conversation. another week goes by and you start texting daily and even sending each other voice notes . you try to meet up, but it never works out: you’re either swamped with work, or he’s busy with training or off at an away match. 

not in your timezone, but I wish I was :(  he texted once when you proposed meeting but he was abroad for a champions league game.

the trouble starts when you open his instagram live one night. there he is in his home gym, your breath hitching at the sight of him. shirtless and glistening with sweat, he moves along to the beat of the music, mouthing the words to the french rap playing. his chest is sculpted and chiseled, pecs and abs defined. his shoulders, broad and powerful, lead down to a narrow waist. you watch as he goes through his routine, mouth slightly agape and heart racing  as your eyes track his every movement, his every flex of muscle. then it’s over. the notification saying the live ended interrupts your almost drooling. 

you toss and turn in your sleep during the night. the way he moved, his beautiful body, it was all stuck in your head. you can’t help it, you think about him touching you. those deep brown eyes giving you bedroom eyes.  how he’d pick you up, pull down your panties, flip you around. You can hear his deep accented voice murmuring sweet nothings while his head is buried in between your legs. you imagine how he’d look hovering above you, that damn silver chain dangling down between you two. would he have the same concentrated look he had at the gym when he’s inside you? eyebrows furrowed, biting his lip, forehead glistening with sweat? you’d move together in a steady rhythm, your hands clinging to his back. he’d maintain eye contact throughout. and then, after basking in each other’s pleasure, you’d both arrive at the same time. you can see it all in your head.

needless to say, you go to sleep that night with an unsatisfied ache between your legs.

the instagram live is just the beginning though. aurelien starts sending you gym videos that leave you hot and bothered pretty regularly, and now it’s pretty clear to you that he’s thirst trapping you. slow zoom-ins of his chest interspersed with some cute content of his dog fill your screen whenever you open his snaps; the man is truly a menace. the worst part is that it works: you spend an alarming amount of time thinking about him, or thinking about you and him together, doing nasty things. if his end goal is leaving you in a perpetual state of horniness, then he’s achieved it. it’s unfair really. 

are you free next week?

when you receive his text in the middle of work, you don’t hesitate for a second before replying with an enthusiastic yes. you quickly arrange to meet him at your place after his afternoon match. he even sends you tickets for you and a friend to attend the game, which you both enjoy. but as much as you try to focus on the game, your thoughts are already preoccupied. you make a joke with your friend about manifesting that he's oversized. because that’s all you can think about during those 90 minutes. you have high expectations, but you bet it’s better than in your head.

before you know it, you’re back in your apartment, waiting for him to pull up. you jump when you hear a knock, and you quickly open the door. he’s standing there looking handsome and freshly showered in his real madrid tracksuit and smiling that pretty smile at you. you lock eyes, and they say things you don’t verbalize. 

“hi” he says.

“hi” you say back, flushing.

he drops his bag to the floor, and he quickly sweeps you off the ground,  his lips crashing onto yours.

it is indeed better than in your head, you later find out. 

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Any Time You’re Ready

After another lousy date, Oliver’s parents remind him that love might be closer than he expects.

Oliver Wood x Fem!Reader

1.7k words

Warnings: none, fluff, kissing, embarrassing parents

A/N: Inspired by the Shawn Mendes song “When You’re Ready” because I’m obsessed with “What if my dad is right/When he says that you're the one”

~

“Goodnight, Oliver.”

“G’night, Casey.”

The girl stepped into the green flames in the Wood family fireplace, called out her address, and was gone. As soon as the flames resumed their usual orange tint, Oliver turned around and strolled into the kitchen. He found his parents, sharing a slice of cake and sipping tea. Their heads snapped up as he walked in.

“So, what’d you guys think?” Oliver grinned as his parents.

“She seemed nice,” his mom answered with a shrug.

His dad nodded. “Yeah, Cadie seems like a nice girl.”

Oliver’s face fell. “Casey, Dad. Her name’s Casey.”

“Right, right.” His dad took a sip of tea, clearly not embarrassed by his mistake. “But what about-”

“Dad, stop,” Oliver groaned. He already knew what his dad was going to say; he said it every time Oliver showed interest in a new girl.

You and Oliver grew up next door to each other and had been best friends from the time you could walk. Going to Hogwarts only brought you closer together, with all the time you spent together both in and out of the classroom, practically attached at the hip. And both of your parents had been convinced for years that the two of you belonged together.

Oliver’s dad held up his hands in defense. “’m just saying, son. I don’t know why you bother going out with these other girls. You’ve already got a great girl right next door. You’ve been friends since you were born. And everyone knows a friendship like that is the foundation of a solid relationship. Just look at me and your mother.”

“Dad,” Oliver said slowly. “You asked Mum out on your very first day at Hogwarts.”

“Yeah, and we were friends for the whole trip on the Hogwarts Express before that. Good foundation, like I said.”

“Right.” Oliver grabbed a tin of biscuits from the counter. “Well, ’m heading to bed. See you in the morning.” He waved at his parents and headed upstairs, taking the steps two at a time.

He should have been more surprised to find you lying on his bed, reading a book.

“How was your date?” you asked casually, eyes still on your book as he closed the door behind him.

“Fine,” he answered, crossing the room to close the window you had climbed through. He lied down next to you and opened the tin.

You took a cookie and shoved it in your mouth. “What do we think? Potential girlfriend?”

Oliver shrugged, helping himself to a cookie. “Probably not,” he admitted.

“It’s just as well,” you said, closing your book and tossing it on his nightstand. “She’s a bit of a dolt, if you ask me.”

A snort flew out of Oliver’s nose. “I don’t remember asking you.”

You elbowed him. “Well, you should’ve. I could’ve saved you a night of ‘Oh Oliver, you’re soooo funny, let me grab your muscles.’” You let out a fake high-pitched giggle and squeezed Oliver’s arm.

He warmed at your touch. No matter how hard he tried to fight it, he had finally admitted it to himself when he was fourteen: Oliver Wood was in love with you. So for the last two years, he tried to act normal, like he wasn’t thinking about you every second of the day, like you were just his best friend and nothing else.

But laying on his bed with you right next to him made it really hard to pretend.

“You’re so mean,” he laughed, trying to sound even. “Casey’s a nice girl.”

“Yeah, but she’s not right for you.” You wrinkled your nose.

Oliver turned onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow, facing you. “Oh, and you know what’s right for me?” he challenged.

You mirrored his pose, your nose close to his. “Of course I do. That’s what best friends are for.”

He felt a little tug on his stomach at the word friends. “Yeah, sure,” he scoffed, trying to play off the sting he’d felt every time you called him your friend over the last two years. “What about you? Any dates so far this summer?”

“A couple,” you admitted. “Nothing worth mentioning.” You flipped back onto your back, gazing at Oliver’s ceiling. “Why do we have so much trouble dating?”

Oliver stared at your profile, admiring the shape of your adorable nose and your perfect lips. “What d’you mean?”

“Well,” you sighed, “think about it. We’re both very good-looking, popular enough, definitely not idiots. Yet neither of us can get more than a couple dates out of a person. What gives?”

“Mmm.” Oliver thought a moment. He knew why none of his dates panned out, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why you, the most beautiful and perfect girl he knew, didn’t have a boyfriend.

Not that he minded.

“It’s not like I don’t have theories,” you continued, ignoring Oliver’s non-response. “Personally, I think you’re just too good for any of the girls at school.” Oliver felt his cheeks go warm again. “As for me, I’m going to go ahead and blame you.” You turned your head and smiled at your best friend.

“Me?” he asked with a dry chuckle. “How do you manage to blame me for your lack of boyfriend?”

You shrugged. “Think about it. Boy, girl. Best friends. Boy is good-looking and could probably beat up most of the boys in our year.” You popped another cookie in your mouth. “So, no one wants to date his girl best friend.”

Oliver stared at you a moment. Despite the fact that he definitely did not want to see you all cozied up with any of the boys at school, he couldn’t help feeling bad. If you wanted a boyfriend, you should have one. He never wanted to get in the way of your happiness.

It was as though you could feel his guilt. “It’s alright though,” you assured him with that sweet smile you usually reserved for Oliver. “Not like any of those boys are worth my time anyways. You’re the only decent boy in our year honestly.”

“Oh really?” he asked in a teasing voice, as though his heart was not hammering. The two of you had been doing this a lot lately: compliments, teasing just this side of flirting, skittering around a line no one was quite willing to cross, playing a game of chicken neither of you was willing to lose.

Tonight, you were the one who broke first. “So what’d your parents think of Casey anyways?” Your eyes were back on the ceiling of Oliver’s room, following the wizards flying around his Puddlemere United poster.

“They thought she was nice,” he answered, following your gaze. “My dad’s just disappointed that she’s not-” Oliver stopped himself, his eyes darting back to you.

You looked at him out of the corner of your eye. “Not what? Smart?” A smirk played on your lips.

Oliver thought a moment. You weren’t a mean girl typically. You were sweet, and you had plenty of girlfriends. The only people you were mean about were… well, the girls Oliver dated. The gears turned in his head as he calculated the risk he was about to take.

“Well, not you,” he finally admitted. “Dad’s disappointed she’s not you.”

“Oh.” You blinked a few times. Oliver could see the rapid thinking behind your expression. “And… what about you?” You sat up and looked down at Oliver, all the playfulness gone from your eyes.

Oliver heaved himself up as well. “I… I mean…” He licked his lips and sighed. Just spit it out, he told himself. “Sometimes I wonder if my dad’s… right?”

“Right about what?” You fidgeted with the hem of your t-shirt, a nervous habit Oliver knew well.

“He…” Oliver cleared his throat and took your hands in his. He saw your eyes flicker to them before meeting his gaze again. “He says that you’re the one.” Oliver winced, preparing himself for rejection and the end of your friendship, the thing he’d been dreading for two years.

“The one?” you echoed, your hands still in Oliver’s.

He nodded. “You know. The one.”

The smirk playing on your lips broke some of the tension between you. “What would that entail? If I was the one, I mean.”

His fears melted slightly at the sight of your small grin. “Well, it would probably start… with this.” Oliver closed his eyes and leaned forward, pressing his lips gently against yours.

Much to his relief, you kissed him back, letting go of his hands and wrapping your arms around his neck while his hands settled on your hips. He could taste your bubblegum flavored Chapstick, the one he borrowed annoyingly often, and you could taste the chocolate from the biscuits that now sat forgotten near the foot of the bed.

When Oliver let go, he didn’t bother trying to play cool; instead, he grinned from ear to ear, not caring how goofy he looked.

Likewise, you couldn’t help the giggle that tumbled out of your mouth, your hands still on Oliver’s shoulders. “Starts with that, huh?”

“Yeah, that’s just the beginning.” Oliver leaned forward again, his mind racing with excitement. He laid back, pulling you on top of him-

“I think you mean that’s the end of the night,” came a voice from the door neither of you noticed opening.

Color rushed to your cheeks as you scrambled to sit back up, pushing Oliver off you. “Hey Mr. Wood,” you managed, as if he caught you making out with his son all the time.

Your best friend’s dad nodded pointedly. “You should probably head back out that window, young lady. I’m sure we’ll see you tomorrow. When you use the front door.”

With one last awkward smile to Oliver, you jumped off the bed and opened the window, clambering out the way you’d done millions of times before. Trying to be a gentleman (especially in front of his dad), Oliver watched carefully as you climbed down the tree by his window, tiptoed across his backyard, through the gate between your houses, and through your first-story window, where you disappeared after a quick wave in his direction. When Oliver turned around with that still dopey smile, his dad was still in the doorway, a smug grin on his face.

“Told ya so, son.”

[barefoothighlander]

mary on a cross - hero of the day

-simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

-warnings: violence, death, smut (mdni), unprotected p-in-v, oral (fem rec), creampie, simon has a dirty mouth, mentions of alcohol, mentions of domestic violence (nothing graphic)

-word count: 6k

-summary: as you and simons relationship grows, outside forces conspire to reveal his secret, leading to him having to protect you by any means necessary. mercenary au

prev chapter fic masterlist next chapter

a/n: ok so I finally got around to playing mw 2019 and I fear a Price phase is coming on so... we'll see what happens. Not proofread, sorry for any grammatical errors

The mornings you and Simon woke up to were very different, yours was filled with a warm breeze from the window and a sense of comfort, not only from your bed but from your current life. You were happy, finally, it took years for you to gain the strength to leave but now that you’ve created the life you wanted, you felt content, secure. Simon’s morning was filled with dread, he barely slept that night, deciding to rather spend his time pacing his bedroom after he hung up the phone with Johnny, the two of them had worked together a few years prior, before Simon’s retirement and they had grown rather close, even using the term friends sometimes (though Johnny used it far more liberally than Simon). But it had been years since the two talked, not for any specific reason, just that Johnny had remained in the force and Simon grew used to living a life of solitude, not bothering to call Johnny over the years. He didn’t have Johnny’s number saved in his phone, but he wouldn’t mistake that voice anywhere, that obnoxious Scottish accent that he swears pierces his skull. It was a shock for Simon, being so cautious with his past time having everyone including the local police confused, but Johnny knew him, they had been through war together, he knew all of his moves, his favourite weapons, the only thing he didn’t know was the why.

“What are you doing going about killing civvies?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about MacTavish” Simon responds, trying to keep his breathing regular as to know alert Johnny

“Bullshit LT, it’s you, I've seen you kill enough men to know what it looks like” He takes a beat, “I’m not gonna turn you in”

Simon almost sighs in relief.

“I just want to know why, you left the force years ago, I’d thought your violent years were behind you, hell if you wanted to kill you should’ve stayed”

“They’re bad people Johnny”

“They always are”

“They’re not innocent, I just wanted people- innocent people to be safe”

“Alright”

The two men sit on the phone in silence for a few minutes, neither one daring to speak.

“I’ll see you in the morning LT,” Johnny says before hanging up.

Simon sat in his bed, his heartbeat in his ears, fuck he’ll ask more questions, he gets up and begins pacing slowly back and forth, you’ll ask questions. He never wanted to tell you about his past, he didn’t want to scare you, he knew you’d look at him differently if you knew what his military file had in it, he knew you’d run far away if you knew what his current past-time was, he couldn’t have Johnny talking to you it would ruin everything, he needed a way to get rid of Johnny without him giving away his secret, and without raising your suspicions.

Rather than sit anxiously in bed all morning Simon had gone to the gym beside the pub, it wasn't a large commercial gym by any means, but it had punching bags, and that was more than he could ask for, reposting to work out some of his stress on the large bags he threw punch after punch till his already sore knuckles were swollen and red. Deciding that he had inflicted enough pain on himself for the day he grabbed his bag and made his way back to the pub, going to turn the key in the lock before realizing it was already open. Immediately Simon went into fight mode, prepared to attack whoever decided to trespass onto the property, his trance only broken by the sound of laughter, your laughter, his shoulders untensed as he pushed the door open to find you, head thrown back in laughter, smile wide and bright, and him, next to you. 

You turn your attention from Johnny towards the door, eyes locking on the large looming figure advancing towards you.

“Good morning,” you say, smiling as wide as ever. Simon's gaze shifts between you and Johnny.

“Mornin”

“Sleep well?” Johnny asks, a smirk on his face as he sips his coffee, Simon ignores his questions.

“Johnny said he knew you from the force, figured I’d let him in before we open so he could say hi” 

Simon spares a tight-lipped smile in your direction, “Yea we um, worked together for a bit”

Johnny fakes insult, “Just wanted to check in LT, finally got leave so I’m back for a bit”

Simon gives a curt nod as he busies himself cleaning glasses, you sense the tension in the air.

“I’m gonna go get some coffee, did either of you want anything”

“No” “I’ll take a tea lass” both of the men respond, you smile and make your way out the door.

“You shouldn’t be here Johnny”

“She’s sweet”

Simon turns his gaze to stare daggers at Johnny as a smirk creeps up on his face

“You like her” Johny asks, though it’s not a question

“She’s not a part of this”

“So she doesn’t know?”

“No one does”

Johnny nods his head looking around the room before continuing.

“Are you going it for money?”

“No”

“Then what?”

Simon sighs, “When I got back, I spent a week just sitting in my flat, watching the news, trying to catch up on whatever I’d missed. The people, the children that were being harmed, I couldn’t just watch it happen.”

“So it’s about your family”

Before Simon can respond you walk back in, tray of drinks in your hand.

“I know you said you didn’t want anything but I figured I’d get you some anyway”

Johnny watches as Simon's body untenses at the mere sight of you, glancing at his eyes that are practically heart-shaped. You place the drinks atop the bar and both men reach to grab theirs, Simon mumbling a soft thank you in your direction.

“Oi doll, could you grab some extra glasses from the back,” Simon asks, you nod at him and turn to walk towards the backroom.

“Let me help you,” Johnny says, Simon furrows his brows.

“I don’t need your help, Johnny”

“Right, what happens if you get caught?”

“I won’t”

“You don’t even exist technically, you get caught an the whole team gets investigated”

“I won’t get caught” Simon stands stern as Johnny shakes his head in disbelief. “You should go”

“Right” Johnny gives him a sad look, “I’m off lass!” he shouts to you. You poke your head around the corner.

“Already? Well alright, don’t be a stranger” you say with a smile as Johnny gives you a wave turning away to exit.

“I’ll be in town,” he says to Simon, it’s more of a warning.

Simon feels his mind flush with a million thoughts at once as soon as Johnny leaves.

“So, the weirdest thing happened last night,” you say, moving back into your seat at the bar, Simon gives a hmm in acknowledgement, keeping his attention on cleaning the bar.

“News said they found two bodies on a street close to here, just freaked me out cause I take that street home”

“Strange”

“Right, and remember how I was telling you about those guys following me” You wait for his nod, “It was the same street, can’t be a coincidence”

Simon feels his pulse start to race, there’s no way she thinks it’s me. You shake your head

“I don’t know, just weird. Guess I have to find a new route home”

“I can take you home,” Simon says a little too quickly

“No I don’t want to be a burden, I don’t live far anyway”

“You could never be a burden”

You feel your cheeks flush a little, looking toward your feet.

“Alright”

The two of you enter a comfortable silence, going about your tasks individually, but always within reach of each other. The day was slow, with a handful of people coming in once and a while to get a few drinks, by midnight it was dead quiet, you and Simon occupying yourselves with quiet conversation that was mostly one-sided.

“Top five books,” you say

“What?” Simon responds with a raised brow

“What are your top five books, I’ve noticed you reading in the mornings”

He gives a small nod, “Not sure, maybe dorian gray, hell’s angels, jekyll and hyde, moby dick, and jane eyre.

“You’ve read jane eyre”

“A few times yeah”

“Cute, no books about war?”

“Feels strange to read about it when you’ve lived through them”

“Them? Like multiple”

“What are yours” He changes the topic quickly

“Doesn’t matter” you say and he smirks.

He looks outside to the dark street, “We should probably get you home”

You nod and gather your bag, Simon walks beside you, locking the pub before the two of you make your way to the street, he places a soft hand on your waist to guide you in a different direction, and you feel heat flush your body from the contact. The two of you turn a corner and walk to a small alley beside the pub where a motorcycle is sitting.

“You ride a motorcycle,” you ask almost amused. He huffs a laugh at the question urging you closer as he turns the key in the ignition, you hear the bike roar to life as Simon turns to place a helmet on your head, securing it before sitting on the bike, he waits for you to get on the back. You nervously place your hands on his shoulders, unaware of how to sit, he reaches back for your arms, pulling them tight over his stomach and forcing your chest to press against his back. You try to stop yourself from feeling over the strong muscles of his stomach, he turns the bike to make his way down the alley onto the street, speeding up as he enters onto the road. You cling to him and he can’t fight the smile that creeps up on his lips, he revels in your touch no matter the circumstances, he liked that you were holding on to him so tightly seeking safety. The ride to your flat was short but exciting, Simon driving more cautiously than he normally would. He parks the bike outside your building as you remove the helmet passing it to him, you smooth your hair from your face before thanking him and making your way to your door.

You close the door behind you and fall against the wall trying to come to terms with what you were feeling, you didn’t want to take your hands off him, you wanted to press further into his flesh and let your hands roam all over him. You think about exploring his body, feeling his muscles under your palms, his fingers digging into your hips and heat pools in your lower stomach, you bite your lip and in a surge of confidence you open your door again to see him leaning against the bike, smoking a cigarette. You lock eyes and he quirks his head.

“Did you want to come in?” you ask sheepishly and without a second thought he throws his cigarette to the pavement and closes the space between you. It happened so quickly, the door was pushed open and he grabbed your face with both hands, not wasting a minute in attaching his lips to yours, his kisses are feverish, and tongue and teeth and he closes the door with a kick of his leg and moves you back against the wall, he leaves your lips to plant wet kisses down your neck and collarbone as your hands roam over his shoulders, chest, back, any part of him you could reach. You feel his weight press against you as he lifts you up against the wall, lips returning to yours as his tongue begs entry and you oblige. The two of you are a mess of gasps and moans, trying to catch any breath between the kisses, he begins walking you down the small hallway as you direct him to the bedroom in between kisses.

He drops you onto the mattress, lips never leaving yours as you arch your back to lift your shirt and he does the same giving your hands full access to paw at his skin, you feel your fingers over his littered scars you’ll ask later. He reaches down the hem of your pants, looking to you for permission, you nod and attach your lips to his neck as he undresses you, your arms reaching behind your back to remove your bra. You’re left in just your panties, laying on the bed, lips swollen and eyes blown wide in lust while Simon takes a step back to admire you muttering curses under his breath that bring a rosy tint to your cheeks. He kneels down and places a trail of kisses across your bare stomach as your fingers find their way to his scalp, raking through his hair, his fingers come to curl around your underwear before peeling them down your legs as he looks over your dripping pussy.

“Christ, so wet already”

You blush and he smirks before diving in, licking thick stripes up your slit, lapping up every drip he can, teasing it with his fingers before pushing them into you, he’d take his time later, he wanted you, needed to feel you come apart on him. Your head is thrown back, slurs of moans leaving your lips as your fingers grip his hair in an attempt to ground yourself. The combination of his fingers and expert tongue bring you to your peak quickly, your chest tightening as your high builds.

“That’s right pretty girl, cum for me, cum on my fingers”

You let out a loud gasp of his name as you reach your climax, he licks you through it, replacing his fingers with his tongue in order to swallow every last bit of your high. He places a few more kitten licks to your swollen pussy before moving up to entrap you between his arms, reaching down to kiss you.

“Taste so sweet,” he says reaching down to unbutton his pants before taking them off. You glance at his throbbing cock through his boxers, it’s big, bigger than you’ve taken before. He reads your eyes,

“S’alright doll, I’ll be gentle”

“No,” you say but it comes out as a whimper, “want you to fuck me, hard”

A smirk creeps onto his face as he grips your waist, flipping you onto all fours, you’ve barely caught your breath, limbs weak as you try to hold yourself up. He grabs a handful of your ass, placing kisses down your spine before bending to bit lightly at the meat of your ass, you let out a small yelp and he kisses over the skin, teasing the head of his cock through your puffy lips. He plants a firm grip at your hip before pushing into you, letting out a moan. You let out a curt fuck as he pushes in, leaning down to encase you, planting a palm next to your shoulder before he begins slowly pumping into you inch by inch.

“Doing so well love, just a little more”

You can’t help the breathless moans that escape your lips. He bottoms out with a large breath that you feel fanning over your cheek, your arms give out as your face falls in contact with the bed. He pulls himself back up to trace his palm between your shoulder blades as he continues pumping into you. As your pussy adjusts to the size of him you begin moving your body back against him in time with his thrusts, feeling the tip of his cock prodding at your cervix. He brings both hands to knead at the flesh of your ass, spreading the cheeks apart to get a clear view of him fucking you.

“Fucking hell, feel so good love”

He picks up his pace and you hear your headboard colliding with the wall behind it, drool pooling on the sheets under your mouth as you cry out his name.

“That’s right baby, say my name”

“Si- Simon fuck”

He reaches a hand around to toy with your clit and you feel your muscles constrict around his length.

“Fuck squeezin' me so tight”

He reaches a hand around your throat and pulls you upright, your back arched and flush with his chest as he holds you against him, your hands coming to grab at his thick forearm in an attempt to keep yourself upright. You can’t think, your mind clouded with only him, his scent is intoxicating, all you can feel is him. He brings you to your peak, sucking at your neck hard enough that it was sure to leave a mark as you moan into his ear.

“Yes fuck, right there, please Simon”

“Yea, that feel good love”

You nod.

“Words baby”

“Yes God please”

He continues thrusting into you, fingers circling your clit faster as that familiar coil burns in your lower abdomen.

“Shit I’m gonna cum”

“Yea? Fuck cum on me, wanna feel you squeeze my cock”

And you do, you come undone in his arms, your pussy soaking his cock and he fucks you through your second high, never slowing his pace. When you finally come down you’ve lost all control of your body, your thoughts are fuzzy as he flips you onto your back and pushes back into you, bringing your knees to your chest and holding them there. You can’t form words, body overstimulated from your orgasms.

“Not gonna last, where do you want me”

“Inside please, need to feel you,” you say but it comes out as a whisper.

He can’t deny you, not when he has you under him, completely lost in him, begging for his cum, his muscles tense as he slows his thrusts, spilling his hot seed deep into you with a deep grunt. He releases your legs but keeps himself inside, leaning down to kiss your glistening neck, he stays there for a while, both of you catching your breath, basking in the warmth of him.

He removes his softening cock from you and watches as the mixture of both your orgasms spills out before leaving to grab you a warm towel. He runs it over your body, careful to not hit your overstimulated clit before tossing it to the laundry bin and settling down next to you, you reach for him nuzzling into his broad chest as his arm moves to hold you close to him, lips pressed to the crown of your head.

“Can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do that” he says and you giggle into his chest, hands roaming to feel over his scars.

“They’re old, wounds from when I served,” he says as you glance up at him, “knew you were gonna ask at some point”

You smile, reaching up to kiss him, head falling back against the pillow as he brings his hands the push your hair out of your face, you stare into his eyes, his face gives nothing away but his eyes, they’re full of emotion, he looks at you like you hold the world. You feel yourself growing tired as you cuddle back into him,

“Stay here,” you say

“Okay”, you feel the deep rumble of his voice through his chest as you close your eyes letting the warmth of him comfort you into sleep.

The two of you are woken to the loud noise of banging at your door, you open your eyes slowly, your limbs are tangled between Simon’s as his arms hold you close, cursing to yourself that you’d have to leave him. You move from his chest and throw on some pants and his shirt, making your way to the door, opening it your heart falls to the floor.

“Alex” your chest feels empty, why was he here, how did he find you?

“Hey babe”

You shake your head trying to close the door but he places his foot in the way.

“Can we just talk”

“No - I left for a reason” You glance back at Simon in your bed, still asleep. “You need to leave”

He follows your eyes, “Is someone here” The tone in his voice grows angrier as he pushes the door to let himself in, you stumble back.

“Alex please, go home I don’t want you here” you beg as tears prick your eyes, it had taken everything in you to leave him and here he was in your apartment.

“Who the fuck is that” he yells turning back to you, invading your space and forcing your body to move back against the wall as your arms come up to plead defence.

“You leave me and move here to fuck some other guy, you fucking slut”

“Alex please”

His hand makes firm contact with the wall beside your head, making you flinch as your tears start to flow down your cheeks.

“What is wrong with you, I gave you everything”

Before you can object a deep voice calls from the other side of the room.

“I’d back off if I were you”

You look up, eyes locking on Simon’s and you can see the anger that's burning it’s way to the surface

“Seriously, hey just fuck off man this doesn’t concern you,” your ex says, turning his attention towards the large man.

“It concerns me plenty,” Simon says crossing the room to tower over Alex

“Simon please” you beg, he can see in your eyes that you don’t want him to hurt Alex, but every fibre of his being wants to kill him, slit his throat and throw his body into some alley for the rats to feed on. Alex puffs his chest and pushes at Simon with his hands, he doesn’t move an inch, tilting his head down to glare at your ex's face.

“You need to leave”

“You fucking leave, she’s my girlfriend”

Simon feels his anger come to a tipping point as he grabs Alex’s neck and shoves him against a wall, your quiet pleas lost in his fit of rage. Alex brushes him off, sparing you a final glance.

“This isn’t over, I’ll be back,” he says before leaving, slamming the door behind him hard enough that you jump. You sink backwards against the wall.

“Are you alright?” Simon asks scanning your body for any evidence that you were hurt.

You shake your head, “You shouldn’t have done that”

“He was hurting you-”

“No Simon, you don’t understand, he’s not going to stop, he followed me here” Your cheeks are stained with tears, your breath heavy.

“Then I’ll deal with him,” he says slowly bringing his hands to hold your face as you stare up at him. God help any man who tried to hurt you in his presence, “I promise, he’s never going to touch you again”

You sniffle, trying to catch your breath as he wraps his arms to hold you, this was just another person he’d have to take care of, he’d kill everyone if it meant keeping you safe. The two of you stand in the living room, not a word shared between you as he just continues to hold you, shushing your quiet sobs, placing tender kisses on the crown of your head. You felt safe in his arms, your anxiety settling as his palms caress over your spine.

“I’ll kill ‘em if I have to”

You release a giggle, as Simon smiles but he’s being serious. After a few minutes, the two of you continue your morning, Simon making tea as he doesn’t trust you to do it properly while you stand in the shower, letting the warm water ease your tense muscles.

You jump as the curtain pulls back, Simon’s head popping in, eyes lingering on your naked form.

“Take a picture why don’t you”

“Don’t tempt me”

You laugh at his remark.

“I’ve gotta head over to the pub” his eyes full of lust, every bit of him trying hard to not jump in the shower with you, “I’ll see you over there in a bit yea?” 

You nod leaning over to kiss him, biting lightly at his lower lip.

“Minx,” he says and splashes some of the water at you.

Simon leaves and you continue with your morning, drying off from the shower and getting dressed for work. You weren’t sure how the new dynamic would work, you had always found Simon attractive but this was new, you’d never slept with someone you had to see every day. You didn’t know if this was a one-time thing, you hoped it wasn’t but Simon wasn’t the best about vocalizing his emotions, you didn’t want to just come out and ask, so you’d have to wait, test the waters, see how he felt about you.

By noon you had made your way to the pub, the cool air inside a welcome sensation after your walk in the warm air outside, you settle your things, peeking around the corner to try and find him.

“Simon?”

No response, maybe he was upstairs, you’d never been to his flat and it felt strange to just invite yourself in so you stayed in the pub, finding tasks to complete while you waited for him. A few minutes pass and you hear a loud crash from upstairs.

“Si?” you yell, hoping it’s him upstairs and not some robber, silence fills the next minute before you see him emerge from the back door looking a little dishevelled.

“Hey love, make it here okay?” he asks placing a kiss on your lips. You’re a little taken aback at his quick pace.

“Yeah fine, what was that noise”

He looks over to you taking a beat, “Knocked a chair over, was rushing around too quick I guess”

You nod, not fully believing him but trusting him enough that you didn’t pry further. The two of you fell into routine, pouring drinks for regulars, restocking liquor, cleaning glasses, having small conversations between customers.

“I’ve gotta check something in the flat, I’ll be back quick,” he says rushing up the back stairs.

You occupy yourself cleaning as you hear more noise from upstairs, deciding you needed to check it out for yourself. You make your way up the back stairs, slowly opening the door to the flat peering inside. It wasn’t anything spectacular, essentially just one large room, a bed at the far wall in front of a window, there was a small kitchen tucked against another wall, everything was very clean, it looked like he never used the furniture. You look around for him as you step into the room, following the sound of his heavy breaths around a corner, he’s standing at a large window looking out, a creak in the floor alerts him to your presence.

“Hey, sorry not as quick as I thought”

You look around, nothing is out of place so what was all the noise?

“It’s alright, just heard banging, didn’t know if you needed help with something”

“Huh? Oh- no was just looking for something, forgot where I’d placed it”

“Placed what”

He looks at you, jaw slack as he tries to think of a response.

“My tags, dog tags, wanted to throw them in with the rest of my stuff just couldn’t remember where they were”

You glance over, eyes locking on his bedside table, you flick your head in their direction.

“Found ‘em”

He huffs a laugh, crossing the room to pick them up, toying with them in his hands before moving over to you. He glances down at you, raising his arms to place the chain around your neck, you stare up at him, quirking your brow.

“Look better on you” he says, leaning to kiss your forehead. 

Your fingers come up to fiddle with the tags, eyeing them over, Lt. Simon Riley, well at least you knew his last name now.

“Did you close up”

You shake your head.

“Right well, meet you outside in 5. I’ll drive you home”

He begins walking away,

“Why don’t we stay here tonight,” you ask and he stops in his tracks, “Easier that way, don’t have to wake up any earlier to get to work”

He thinks it through in his head, he’s never had anyone in his flat, let alone stay the night, but it’s you.

“Yea alright, just give me a minute to close downstairs”

You nod, taking the time to further explore the space. Lots of books, a guitar sat in the corner, no pictures, he had barely anything on the shelves, it looked like he only used the space to sleep if that, the bed was perfectly made, not a single wrinkle in the sheets. You strip your body of your clothes, rummaging through his drawers to find a shirt, throwing it over your form as you settle into the bed, senses overtaken by his scent that lingers on the pillows. Simon steps back into the room, eyes landing on your half-naked form,

“Comfy”

“Very,” you say, stretching your limbs over the mattress as you feel it dip from his weight. He lays back and you crawl over him, legs caging his hips as his arms secure themselves around your back, chin nuzzled into your neck.

You revel in his warmth as he places light kisses over the skin not covered by his shirt, making his way to nip at your neck eliciting a small moan from you. You crane your neck to bring your lips to his, kissing him softly as his hands move down to grab at your ass. Your kisses become feverish as you feel yourself grow needier, light pushing your lips against him, Simon moves to kiss along your jaw, lips settling under your ear.

“What do you want pretty girl”

“You, need you,” you say through gasps, grinding yourself down onto his hardening cock

“Need me to what”

“Need to feel you, need to feel your cock inside me”

“Atta girl” He grips your hips with bruising strength as he grinds you back and forth against him, your hands moving to plant on his chest as your clit catches on the fabric of his boxers.

He moves you at a brutal pace and you can feel the arousal pooling in your lower stomach.

“Soakin’ me already baby, you gonna cum just from grinding on me”

You bite your lip, nodding as the sensation takes over your body, your legs tensing as you dig your nails into his flesh, your slick leaking from your orgasm, soaking through your panties onto his hard length.

He lifts you off him, pulling his boxers down, his throbbing length slapping at the skin of his lower abdomen.

“Wanna ride you” you say breathlessly as Simon smirks.

You push yourself up, lining his cock up with your weeping cunt before settling down on him, taking him slowly, gasping at the stretch. His hands grab at your shirt, lifting it over your head before his lips move to kiss at your breasts, tongue teasing over your hard nipple as your fingers rest on his shoulders stabilizing you. Once you settled you begin bouncing slowly up and down his cock, your juices leaking down pooling at the base, and coating his pubic hair. He leans back, hands on your hips encouraging you to continue, he thrusts up abruptly, forcing your body forward, hands planting on his firm chest and you continue to ride him, the friction from his pubes hitting just the right spot that you’re able to grind your clit against him

“That’s right pretty girl, use me, make yourself cum on my cock”

You lean down to kiss him and his arms wrap around your back, holding you to him as he plants his feet against the mattress and begins thrusting up into you at a brutal pace, your head falls to his neck as choked sobs escape your lips. You bite down on the meat of his shoulder, hands grasping at the sheets as he continues to fuck you.

“Fuck - look at me, wanna see you when you make a mess all over my cock”

You arch your back, head coming to rest against his forehead as you stare down at him, your jaw’s fallen open, strings of moans escaping as he reaches to kiss you, forcing his tongue into your mouth as he continues his assault on your pussy.

“Fuck, m’gonna cum”

“That’s right, good girl, wanna feel you squeeze me”

He latches his lips to yours, swallowing the moans that come from your orgasm, fucking you through it at a brutal pace as he chases his own high.

“Fuck you feel so good, so tight” He groans eyes locking onto where your bodies meet, mesmerized at the sight of your pussy swallowing his large cock. You dig your nails into his shoulders as he grips tightly around you, thrusting a few more times until he lets out a loud moan and you feel your pussy being filled by his warm seed, pumping a few more times, letting you milk him dry as your foreheads come into contact again, the two of you rest against each other trying to catch your breath, he places a kiss to your lips before slowly rolling you over onto your side, holding you tight to his chest where you plant kisses over his scars.

You fall asleep quickly, your body tired and mind quiet at the sensation of Simon's breaths against your cheek, he listens to your breathing, his own mind racing with thoughts. He had followed your ex from your flat, conveniently walking down the street near the pub as Simon invited him in for a drink and a chat, Alex had obliged entering the doors before Simon locked them and wrapped his arms around his neck effectively incapacitating Alex, he wasn’t thinking, all he could feel was his anger, he hated him for hurting you, hating the fact that he had even been able to touch you even more, you were his, no one would touch you except him. He had dragged Alex’s body up the short flight of stairs into his flat, positioning him near the bathroom, giving him time to wake up before continuing his assault, he wanted him to feel every hit, every bruise and ache that would remind him not to go near you, Simon landed blow after blow to his body, blood spitting from his mouth pooling under his head. He didn’t mean to kill him, but somewhere along the way, his sight turned black, his fists moving on their own accord coming into contact with Alex’s head.

Simon stood back, catching his breath now fully aware of what he had done, ignorant to your presence downstairs he grabbed the body leaving it in the bathtub, he would come back later when his head was clear to clean up.

When he finally returned upstairs later he knew he had to be quick, wrapping the body and tossing it out the window into the alley behind, he knew the routine of the sanitation workers, he had enough time to take you home and come back to responsibly dispose of your ex so that no one would know it was him. What he didn’t account for was you, standing in his flat as his hands were wet with soapy water from cleaning the blood off the floor, he panicked, he couldn’t lie to you, he wanted you to trust him, but his instinct to protect you from who he really was took over.

He never planned on giving you his tags, but seeing the smile on your face after he put them on you he can’t picture you without them, a chain around your neck with his name, a visible marker to let him know that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

He couldn’t sleep, even with the comfort of your body next to his, he had to clean up before you noticed anything. Carefully he removed himself from your arms, watching the way you tucked into yourself at the loss of warmth, he made his way over to the window to look upon the corpse, devising a plan that would allow him to get rid of it only for his eyes to focus on an empty alley.

The body was gone?

[hearts4kaulitz]

Hello! Can I request Tom x reader where they had a fight that made reader cry and Tom felt really bad and tried to make up for her? They are already dating:) Take your time and don't forget to stay hydrated 😊

SPARKS .

tom x gn! reader

YOU AND TOM HAD GOTTEN INTO A FIGHT, you were all at a meet and greet and as some girls were taking pictures with tom one of them had attempted to kiss him.

security had pulled her away before she could actually but it most obviously had made you jealous.

it was the way he didnt even seem upset, he didnt seem angry, disgusted or anything! he seemed amused at most.

once you got back to the hotel the band was staying at you completely ignored tom, walking right past him as he tried to make some conversation with you.

he looked at you with confusion as be walked away from him in frustration and quickly sitting down on the bed, rubbing your eyes.

“whats wrong?” tom asked, walking towards you with a frown.

“nothing, im fine..” you grumbled in annoyance, smudging your mascara and makeup before pulling at your hair to keep you from nearly going insane.

“no your not. “ he said, sitting down next to you and trying to read whatever expression you had.

“im..fine tom.” you muttered, tugging at your hair harder before feeling some of it fall into your hands lifelessly.

“tell me whats wrong.” he demanded, scooting closer to you and attempting to put his hand on your thigh but you flinched away.

“well i dont know what about you tell me smartass.” you stood up, clenching your fist’s trying your hardest not to raise your voice at him.

“hey, whatd the hell i do?” he retorted with a offended look on his face.

“let me think, maybe let a girl kiss you right infront of my eyes!” you argued, an annoyed smile on your face as you took a step forwards.

“she didnt even kiss me!”

“but she almost did and guess what, you did nothing about it!” you raised your voice, not caring who heard you. you knew you wernt the one in the wrong, tom was and he needed to be told off about it.

“thats cause i knew the security would take her away before she could!” he reasoned the best he could, trying his best to make himself not seem guilty.

“oh did you? or are you just trying to fucking excuse your actions like you always do you godamn dickwad!” you yelled, throwing your hands up dramatically as your face began to feel redder by the second. anger coursing though your veins.

“well im sorry! what else do you want?” he yelped and sat up from the couch, meeting your height.

“to stop letting other girls get all over you cause half the time i dont even feel like your girlfriend, i feel like a friend godamnit!” hot tears began to fall down your face as you quickly wiped them away, sniffling a bit and trying to keep your composure.

toms gaze softened at your words, his mouth slightly gaped and he realized he was in the wrong. he realized you were right.

he should’ve never let the girl try and kiss him, he should’ve avoided it and now he realized that.

he didn’t realize if he kept up the way he acted around other girls and letting them do what they wanted to him you wouldn’t be with him anymore.

he loved you so much and never wanted to loose you and he just registered that, without you he’d be alone.

you were always there for him so why couldnt he return it?

as he stood there in shock you sped past him, leaving your shared room and running out to the living room praying no one was in there.

to your avail no one was, you guessed they either had gone out or theyd all retreated to their rooms after hearing the argument.

containing your wails as you pressed your back against the wall, slowly sliding down it and you desperately clamped at your mouth.

you hadn’t noticed tom peaking from the door with a guilty expression. he had completely fucked up.

YOU SAT UP FROM THE WALL YOU LAID AGAINST, it had been a good twenty five minutes of you quietly weeping.

slowly walking towards the room you and tom shared, scared of what youd find. maybe he was going to break up with you?

whatd if he had done something to himself? what if he had already moved on to another girl?

but as you reached for the handle, it swung open making you flinch a bit.

“oh shit— sorry…” tom whispered as he quickly stepped back and looked at you concerned.

“are you gonna break up with me?” you asked with worry with a red tear stained face.

“of course not… i was coming out to apologize..” he frowned, taking note of your state and feeling even more wrong for his actions.

you brushed some of your tears away as he quickly hugged you, holding you tight as he tried his best not to become emotional.

“im so— so sorry. i should’ve never let her do that and i wont let anyone do anything like that again.” he whispered with sincerity, shaking his head and holding you close.

“i forgive you…” you muttered, melting into his embrace and closing your eyes, letting you rest for a bit.

tom kissed the back of your neck and slid his hands down to your hips, making you giggle a bit.

“you tease.”

[queenofthekings]

𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘰𝘦

Summary: Stuck at Steve Harrington’s Christmas party; you and Eddie both escape and end up in the same quiet room.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Author’s note: Another one of my Edancy fics made into an Eddie and Reader fic, I hope you enjoy!

CW: None, just fluff

Word count: 602

Tagging: @lunatictardis @reidsbtch @melodymunson @battymunson

Any hate will not be tolerated, constructive criticism is welcomed.

Steve Harrington’s Christmas party was the highlight of every year – they were legendary, it almost seemed like everyone would base their social calendar for the year around his party. Anyone who was anyone in Hawkins would be invited and then they would bring a plus one or two, making the invite list and endless array of names that everyone was sure Steve barely knew.

Eddie always thought the parties were massively overrated. If he wanted to watch people get too drunk they couldn’t stand and then start fighting, he would’ve gone to The Hideout on a Friday night. He’d tried to relax by drinking a couple of beers, but it didn’t seem to have worked, way too many people.

He’d escaped to an upstairs bedroom, sitting against the bed, and staring out at the large balcony doors, wondering how the hell he’d ended up even getting invited in the first place.

You were always drawn to parties – there was something about the way people could just lose themselves in the music and alcohol that always seemed to intrigue you. Even if your own party days were long over, you still loved to go to parties and just talk to people, even if they were completely wasted and made no sense. During the course of the evening, you’d been given a makeshift flower crown, although instead of flowers, it had cranberries and mistletoe braided into it.

After making a quick trip to the bathroom, you saw the back of Eddie slip into one of the bedrooms, the door closing quickly behind him. You looked around to see nobody else was watching or following, and then followed in after him. You tried to be as quiet as possible but clearly not quiet enough as he turned and looked at you.

“Sorry for interrupting, I just wanted to see if you were okay.”

Eddie relaxed at your words of concern, relaxing back on the floor before moving aside so you could sit next to him. “I’m okay. I just… I don’t even know why I’m here; someone invited me as a plus one. Parties aren’t really my forte.”

You rested your chin on your knees, licking your lips. “I invited you.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

Eddie smiled at your words, instinctively moving closer to you. “Oh, really? What did you wanna talk about?”

You shrugged, shaking your head a little as you blushed. “Anything. I like hearing you talk; you always just seem so compelling when you do.”

“Well, well, well, I never thought the Princess of Hawkins would want to talk to me, Eddie Munson, the lowly peasant.”

“I don’t think of you like that, nor do I think of myself like that.”

“I think of myself like that,” Eddie shrugged, taking the last sip of his beer before putting it to one side. “I like the headdress, by the way. It’s very… fairy tale.”

You smiled, remembering you still had the crown on. “Thanks, there was a girl downstairs giving them out, saying we should’ve all gotten more into the Christmas spirit.”

He gently poked it, pulling off a mistletoe berry. “Is that mistletoe?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Well, there’s one thing I have to do now,” he whispered before kissing your cheek before you could question or protest.

You frowned a little, confused as he pulled away. “What was that for?”

“The tradition is you kiss a girl under mistletoe so that next year, she isn’t single and for every kiss, you remove one berry until there’s none left,” he smiled softly, pulling off another berry.

[katyawriteswhump]

eternal summer

For  @harringrovesummerbingo

Title: Eternal Summer  Square and prompt: C2 “Is your dream more important than me?” Rating: M WC: 570. Major tags: Harringrove, angst, non-explicit smut, Incubus!Billy, age gap, no upside down au, dark-ish ending which is also a happy ever after, slightly soft harringrove.

and @harringrovemicroficandart 4 prompts, fingers/slipping through my fingers by ABBA, mention of Jim Hopper. WC: 570.

Summary: Billy's nature enslaved him into killing pretty things. Then Steve happened.

...

“What are you thinking about?” asked Steve, rolling over on the pillows beside Billy.

Billy couldn’t look Steve in the eye. “Just some dream.” 

“You look pretty pissed about it.”

Billy sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed. “It made me think. Listen, I’ve gotta—"

“Is your dream more important than me?” Steve’s voice cracked. “Last night you said… Look, if you were shitting me… C’mon, be honest!” 

“Jesus, you’re needy! Yeah! I meant it. I love you.” Billy scrubbed his face wearily. “Got lost in dreams about you.”

“Oh. Why the sad-face… Crap!”

Billy jumped Steve, pinning him on his back, wrists secured either side of his head. Steve giggled, and Billy melted. God, Billy was two millennia old! The heat must’ve gone to his head to make him feel like a real dumb teen.

“What happened in that dream?” 

I made you mine forever. “You accuse me of talking too much?”

Billy silenced Steve with a searing kiss, enjoying Steve’s struggles, as he moaned, desperate, into Billy’s throat. He knew it confused Steve—how Billy was always stronger. When Billy pinned him, he could never fight free.

The kiss grew rough, bruising. Billy sensed the delicious tingle of Steve’s lifeforce ebbing from him. Tears pressed in Billy’s eyes:

I figured you were a bully. I meant to fuck you all summer, then disappear, leaving Hopper scratching his head over a dead teen, like a hundred lawmen before. Then I watched you ditch your friends to look after a bunch of nerdy kids. You begged for love, and I got weak. Now I dream of keeping you always as you are right now—a freeze-frame saved from the crazy tricks of time.

“Fuck me,” gasped Steve, interlacing his fingers with Billy’s, clinging.

“Gotta go.” I stay, you’re gonna get sick and die, or else I’m gonna have to… 

Steve pouted. Christ, he was such a kid! Billy unthreaded their fingers, letting Steve’s hand drop like a stone.

Later, Billy loaded up the Camaro. A BMW tore up and Steve jumped out: “You weren’t even gonna say goodbye?”

I should’ve hauled ass quicker.

“YOU SAID YOU LOVED ME!” Steve grabbed Billy’s collar, got right in his face. 

Billy shoved him away: “Dumbest mistake I ever made.”

In a flash of golden light, Billy revealed his true demon form. Steve staggered back, covering his face then peeping between his fingers:

“Holy shit! Are you an angel?” 

Billy reinstated his glamor, wondering what Steve had seen. Poor pretty fool must genuinely love him back. Only love played crazier tricks than time. 

Laughing, Billy took his trembling prey in his arms: “I’m a demon, Steve. An Incubus. If I stay, I’ll slowly suck”—literally fuck —”your life from you.”

“Wha—” Steve took a beat, frowned: “Is that like a vampire? You could turn me too, right?”

“Doesn’t work quite like that. I could make you my thrall.”

“Wha… I don’t know what that is.”

That night, Billy spread Steve out on the bed beneath him. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah.” Steve’s voice was tight. “You’re gonna fuck me all night, and then… Jesus, will it hurt?”

“No.” Billy trailed his fingers down the curve Steve’s throat, over his quivering lifeblood. Then spiralling down his spine, lower, deeper, relishing Steve’s throaty growls, the little trembles beneath his skin.

No slipping from my grasp now.

For the first time ever, Billy was gonna actually make love.

[absolutewhore101]

Better Man - Chapter 5

A/N: here's chapter 5! taglist is being updated with every post, so lmk if you want to be added/removed. i'm looking to do updates every monday, so stay tuned :)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: Listen to 'Better Man' by Taylor Swift; Stage 3 - bargaining (kind of)

Warnings: swearing, Joel

Word Count: 1.4K

Chapter 4 / Chapter 6

This is a journal entry.

MINORS DNI

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

The stairs leading up to your bedroom had never felt so tiresome, but you were dragging yourself up by the time you reached the top. 

That fight never should have happened. Carly never should’ve happened. Joel never should have happened. All you needed was the reassurance that you did the right thing, but who could you even go to?

You were sure that the people you’d come to call friends almost certainly knew about Joel, and none of them had told you. 

You couldn’t talk to Tommy, that much was obvious. You thought about talking to Ellie, but even if she did know, this wasn’t her problem. 

Was it only you? Were you truly the last person to know?

You sat down on the edge of your bed, staring at the wall in front of you. Your thoughts were running a mile a minute, all of them focused on Joel. 

How could he have done this? There was nothing you could’ve done to stop him once he started, but wasn’t there something you could’ve done to prevent it?

Why weren’t you enough?

A tear dropped off the bottom of your chin, landing delicately on your hand. 

You reached into your nightstand, pulling out the notebook you’d had for a few months. That journal was the only thing you felt truly comfortable sharing everything with after you found out about Joel. 

You fished around for a pen, but came up empty. Walking past Ellie’s room, you peeked in, finding her gone. 

You shook your head, assuming she had never come home in the first place, as you made your way downstairs.

Walking into the kitchen felt more painful than it should’ve - Joel’s coffee mug was on the counter, rings stained around the inside of it. The book he’d been reading left on the table, bookmarked to the page he'd left off on. 

You walked past all of it and went to the junk drawer, grabbing a pen and heading into the living room. 

You sat down on the couch, pulling your feet up underneath you, and started writing. 

I know…

You paused. 

What did you know?

I know that I’m probably better off on my own. Better off than loving a man who didn’t know what he had when he had it.

You wiped your face, willing your bottom lip to stop trembling. 

You flipped back through the pages you’d already written in, rereading the words you’d spilled when you started to suspect Joel was cheating on you. 

It was easy to see the permanent damage that he’d done to you. You weren’t sure you’d ever find love in the world after it ended, and you were certain you’d never find it again. 

And then you flipped back even further, back to the hearts and doodles and the love you’d needed so badly to get out. 

Why couldn’t you just forget when it was magic? When everything was okay?

There were so many thoughts swirling around in your mind, but you couldn’t bring yourself to put them on paper. Instead, you placed your journal on the coffee table and went back upstairs, heading straight to the bathroom. 

You splashed some water on your face, hoping to rid yourself of the redness that occupied your cheeks.

“You know you had to do it.” You muttered. 

God, why did it have to be like this? You used to be curled up in bed with Joel by this point, whispering sweet words to each other until you fell asleep. 

Now, it was the middle of the night, and you were trying to convince yourself that the bravest thing you’ve ever done in this fucked up world was run. 

From Joel and everything he signified now. From Tommy and the sympathy that could only go so far. From all of Jackson, and the inevitable stares that you were expecting. 

You walked back into your bedroom, pulling back the covers and laying down. 

“I just miss you.” You whispered into the dark. “But I just wish you were a better man.”

—---------

When you woke up, you found yourself reaching for his side of the bed, only to find it empty. 

The events of last night came rushing back to you, and you couldn’t stop the tears that welled in your eyes. 

You got out of bed, trudging down the hallway and back downstairs. You didn’t have the appetite for breakfast, but you suddenly found the inspiration to write. 

Your journal felt heavier than it ever had before, and you knew it was the weight of the words you’d written last night. You couldn’t help but wonder how much heavier it’d feel in a few days, and if it would ever feel so light again. 

I know that I’m probably better off all alone. I don’t need a man who can change his mind at any given minute. 

And suddenly, the sadness you had felt just last night had morphed into anger. 

And it was always on his terms! I waited on every word that came out of his mouth, hoping they’d turn sweet again… like they were in the beginning. 

The jealousy that he had for you that you were never able to place popped into your mind. 

He’d always been jealous of the love you were able to so freely give - he’d said so himself one night. He didn’t understand how you could love him so unconditionally, could love the world so openly. 

Was that when he started talking down to you? When he realized that he’d never be good enough for you? 

He talked to you like he knew you’d always be around, and maybe you would’ve. Maybe you would’ve stayed with him if he talked to you like that - pushing your love away like it was some kind of loaded gun. 

But you couldn’t be the third person in your relationship. You should’ve been the first, and Joel just didn’t seem to get that. 

And he never thought you’d run. 

You looked out the window, seeing a crowd of people gathering in the middle of town. You stood up, trying to get a better view of what was happening. 

All of a sudden, laughter sounded, loud enough that you could hear it inside your house. 

Curiosity got the best of you, so you opened your door, walking out onto your porch. 

You could finally see what everyone was crowded around - Joel. 

“I’m shocked you survived!” Someone yelled. 

“Yeah, looks like it did a number on you!”

You furrowed your brows, trying to figure out what they were talking about. Had he gone on a run this morning? Had an infected gotten too close?

Tommy walked around the crowd, eyes locked on you. You wanted to turn around and go back inside, locking the door behind you, but something kept you rooted in your spot. 

“What’s going on?” You asked him once he was close enough to hear you. 

Tommy shook his head, gesturing you to go back inside. 

You were ready to protest, to tell him he had no right to step foot in your house, but he spoke before you could.

“Please. They don’t need to see this.”

You followed him inside, shutting the door behind you as Tommy turned to face you. 

“What were they talking about?” You said, anxiety creeping into you. 

Tommy hesitated before he answered. 

“You.”

“Me?” You asked.

He nodded. “You, Joel… last night. Word got around pretty fast that he’d moved in with Carly and people came knocking.”

You felt nauseous. The town you lived in, the people you once called friends, were celebrating that Joel was finally free of you. And he was loving it. 

Your knees buckled, but Tommy caught you before you could hit the floor, helping you walk over to the couch. 

“This can’t be real.” You muttered, looking up at him. 

His lips drew into a thin line. “I’m afraid it is.”

Your eyes closed, head tipping back to rest against the back of the couch. 

If Joel was a better man, this wouldn’t be happening. 

If Joel was a better man, you’d still be in love. 

“Tommy?” You said.

“Yeah.” He responded. 

“I know why I had to say goodbye to Joel like the back of my hand, but why couldn’t he just be a better man?”

Tommy’s jaw clenched, head swimming as he thought about what Joel had put you through, and how he hadn’t done anything to stop it. 

“I don’t know.” 

That was the last thing he said before he walked out of your house, gently closing the door behind him. 

You weren’t sure how long you sat there on the couch, tears falling down your cheeks, before you picked your journal back up. 

He would’ve been the one if he was a better man.

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

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[gojos-fr-bae]

Stay

Pairing: Levi x fem!reader

Warnings: Angst...Death, mentions of war. Cussing, shouting, crying

Word Count: 649 (AAAHHH, It's short)

A/N: Two in one day AGAIN, damnnn

(Requests open)

You hated fights with Levi, especially before expeditions. You two loved each other deeply however just like in any relationship, you had your good days and bad days and boy were your bad days BAD.

And today was one of those days.

“WHY CAN’T I GO, IM A FUCKING CAPTAIN JUST LIKE YOU LEVI!” YOU YELLED

“BECAUSE UNLIKE ME, YOU ARE COMPLETELY INCOMPETENT AND IF YOU GO OUT THERE YOU WILL DO NOTHING BUT TAKE UP SPACE AND CAUSE EVERYONE ISSUES!!” He yelled just as loud

“LEVI I AM DAMN FUCKING GOOD AT MY JOB AND YOU KNOW IT!”

“The only thing you are is delusional and you know it. So please, stop being a headache and listen for once.” He said in a chilling low tone. 

He didn’t actually think that you couldn’t handle it, if anything, you were more skilled than any other member of the army. But that’s when It’s Titans. The war you were going to fight was against humans and they were unpredictable. He was just worried about you. If anything were to happen to you, it would ruin him. He just didn’t have the best way of communicating that.

“Well fuck that Levi. I’m a grown woman and I can do whatever I want, and I’m not going to sit here at home while people are going to be out there fighting for their lives and that’s final!” You walked out and slammed the door behind you and that was that.

*** 

He knew he shouldn’t have let you come. He knew he should have made you stay but you just wouldn't listen.

He was using his 3DMG to get to the medics tent as fast as he could. You were okay. Oh gosh you are going to be okay. He can’t lose you. He needs you. You’re his everything and he wouldn’t be able to survive without you.

Running through the tent flaps. His blood ran cold as he looked down at you in your bed with a bullet wound right in the center of your chest.

He knelt right next to your bed and held your cold palm on his own. Gosh, you felt so cold. Too cold.

“Darling, hey, hey, I’m right here. Look at me, look at me.” He said frantically, trying to grab your attention.

You slowly turned your head to face him, Smiling softly at him when your eyes met.

“Hey sweety.”you responded, although your voice is extremely soft as you’ve run out of energy.

“Hi, look, everything’s going to be okay, just stay with me, you’re going to be okay, I promise.”

“Levi, I’m sorry, I should’ve listened” you said sadly, a stray tear running down your cheek.

“No, no, no, please don’t be sorry, it wasn’t your fault.”

“Remember to take care of yourself.” You said, voice fading slowly

“Y/N please-” he responded, voice breaking ever so slightly as he placed one palm against your cheek, brushing away your tears. Gosh, you were bleeding so much…too much.

“And don’t overwork yourself”

“My love please, don’t do this to me.”

“And you dare, ever, forget that I love you.”

“Also, remember that I just want you to be happy, okay.?” “Y-Y/N I’m begging you-”

“And you dare, ever, forget that I love you.” You said, and then your chest stopped rising and your body went limp.

“Y/N, Y/N please, wake up. Darling, wake up. Don’t go, please please please don’t go. My love, don’t do this to me. I can’t live without you, please. Please.”

He was trembling as tears streamed down his face. You were gone. No matter how much he denied it or how much he prayed to all that was good and just, You are gone. You are gone and there was nothing he could do to change that.

He didn’t even get to tell you he loved you.

@porridgesblog , @giannitaa , @c0pkiller , @havens-not-here, @starlightanyaaa

© gojos-fr-bae

I Always mix up liar tags and normal tags, sry if that's the case rn.