#but it does. it makes me. so angry. we had this nice silence and you RUINED IT. you forced me to acknowledge you.. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

toruro · 1 year

Text

— ✧ crazy stupid love

pairing. kwon soonyoung x reader

description. your best friend, turned fuck buddy, seems a little too upset about your latest instagram post ...

tags. smut (18+), fwb to lovers, some angst, fluff, confessions, mean dom → switch hoshi, jealousy, arguments (dw there is resolution), angry sex, biting, dacryphilia, degrading (+ discussion of degradation), use of safeword, slightly inspired by crazy stupid love

w/c. 3.6k

a/n. happy birthday hoshi! ngl this has been sitting in my drafts for like 2 months but i figured i should wrap it up and post it today :3

"who's this?" soonyoung asks, holding his phone up to your face. on the screen is a picture that you posted on your story last night, your friend with an arm around your shoulder.

"huh, that's dongwoo," you say, looking up at him with furrowed eyebrows. the back of your head is leaning against his shoulder as your legs are propped up on the other end of the sofa. soonyoung came over to watch the harry potter marathon with you a few hours ago, but with the showing break going on right now, you're both taking some time to catch up on your phones.

"who's that?" soonyoung says flatly, not looking at your face as he pulls his phone back, squinting at the photo. his gaze feels oddly scrutinizing, but you don't say anything about it just yet.

sitting up from your position, soonyoung frowns as you lift yourself off of him to sit across from him on the couch. "you don't remember dongwoo? he went to high school with us?" soonyoung gives you a blank stare. "jeong dongwoo? doesn't the name ring a bell?"

the name does ring a bell, but soonyoung only shrugs and replies, "uh, no i can't say it does."

"no way! we had chem with him! he was really nice and good at labs too," you go on, reminiscing about your memories from your teen years.

"that's weird, i don't remember him." that's a lie—soonyoung definitely remembers dongwoo, but he doesn't remember him ever being as smitten with you as he looks on your post.

"well whatever," you brush off, leaning back onto soonyoung's arm. "he was in town and dmed me asking if i wanted to catch up over dinner."

"a date?" soonyoung asks shamelessly.

you scoff. "no. not a date. just two friends meeting up for dinner."

"a guy and a girl don't meet up for dinner and not call it a date," your friend argues, and then you lift yourself off of him again. soonyoung is slightly annoyed you aren't curled up by his side anymore, but he's even more annoyed by dongwoo's stupid smile on his stupid face with his stupid arm around you.

"what are you talking about? we go out for dinner all the time! those aren't dates," you tell him as a matter of factly, frowning slightly as you do.

"yeah," soonyoung murmurs with a humorless laugh. "and we usually fuck afterwards, so our case is obviously different."

heat courses through your body as the words leave his lips. it's not like he's wrong, but the shamelessness of it all is a little more than you're used to. you're used to the deafening silence and the unspoken words that fill the gaps every time soonyoung leaves you breathless, every time he leaves your brain empty, every time he fucks you.

after he says that, there's that thick, ugly silence wedging itself between you and soonyoung again. you don't like it, not one bit.

"whatever," you finally huff out, not sure if you should lay back down on him or continue sitting up, sensing that soonyoung might want to make a bigger deal out of this than is good for him. "it wasn't a date, i don't know what else to tell you."

neither of you know why you're trying to convince him of this. it shouldn't matter if it was a date or if it wasn't, if dongwoo had an arm around your shoulder, if his touch lingered more, fingers ghosting down your body, up your thigh—

that's what soonyoung tries to tell himself—that it doesn't matter, that none of it matters, that you don't matter to him—at least not like that. too bad he can't control himself. soonyoung can never control himself when it comes to you, and he's starting to wonder if that's a blessing or a curse.

he scoffs, "you're being a real brat right now."

your eyes narrow at him and while this would usually put you in one of those moods—the mood where you want to yank your pants off, have soonyoung's hand in your panties—you're slightly annoyed right now. "what's that supposed to mean?" you ask accusingly, crossing your arms tightly over your chest.

it's a thoughtless gesture but your tits bunch up together and the curve peeks over the collar of your loose shirt. soonyoung stares for a moment and then thinks about if dongwoo looked at you like this. like he wanted to grab your tits, tweak your pretty nipples between his fingers, drink in your moans while he licks into your mouth.

the thought has red flashing through his vision and before you can even think, there's a pair of hot, wet lips on yours and soonyoung is kissing you like he'll die if he doesn't. teeth gnashing against each other as one of his hands wraps around your torso, the other goes up to grab one of your tits, massaging the flesh with his palm.

yeah, you said you were annoyed, but yeah soonyoung is a great kisser and your mind is throttling, going back and forth as you try to decide if you should give in or attempt to hold your own. "soonyoung," you pant as you break away to take a breath, but his lips are on yours again too quickly for you to form a reply.

you find your resolve running thin as you thread your finger into his hair, bringing his face closer as he shifts on the couch above you, knees on either side of you, caging you in. his mouth his pressing kisses to the side of your lips now, peppering your cheeks, and then he's on your neck.

your lips aren't occupied but any words of protest have effectively died in your throat as you squirm under soonyoung when he sinks his teeth into your skin, whining out his name. your hips buck into his for some much needed tension and you can feel soonyoung chuckled against your skin as he licks over the reddening mark.

you feel dizzy when he pulls away and admires the way he's quite literally marked his territory on you. scoffing out loud, soonyoung gives you mean look. "wonder what dongwoo will think about this ..." your mind races at the words—what soonyoung means by that is still a bit of a mystery to you, but the fact that he's so hell bent on keeping you to himself is ... it's turning you on like crazy.

and soonyoung doesn't stop there as he pulls off his shirt and you try to shimmy out of your pants. "what'll he think, huh? his cute little crush ..." he murmurs, looking down at you after your pants are off and thrown to the side, leaving you in just your soiled panties. "his dream high school sweetheart with her legs open, pussy dripping, for a guy who isn't even her fuckin' boyfriend ... like a fuckin' slut."

you gasp when he brings up a thumb to toy with your clit through the fabric, hips jerking up at the contact. "w-what are you—" you're cut off by your own moan when soonyoung pushes the cloth to the side, slipping one finger into your aching cunt without warning. you really want to ask soonyoung what he means by all this, but it just feels so good—too good, and you can't help it at all—your body seems to always give into him.

his finger is already hitting that one spot that he knows has you seeing stars, and your jaw goes slack at how quickly the pleasure is all hitting you. usually, soonyoung likes to work you up to it; starts by playing with your clit for a few hot minutes 'til you're begging for just some fingers inside and then he toys with you for another good while before he finally gives you his cock and fucks you dumb. something tells you today is a bit different.

today is very different, but you have a strong feeling that you won't mind. because all it takes is a few more quick flicks of his wrist and you're crying out his name, saying, "'m gonna cum—soon-soonyoung, 'm cumming!"

you thrash around on the cushions as your orgasm hits you, and soonyoung buries his head into your neck and biting down even harder than before. the slight sting has your senses heightening and your cunt throbs around his fat fingers as he fucks you through the high, not relenting until your neck is littered with hot red marks and you're quivering beneath him.

a content sigh escapes your lips when he slips out of you, allowing yourself a moment to breathe as you start to sit up when soonyoung narrows his eyes at you, unbuckling his jeans in the process.

"don't move," he warns and although you furrow your brows, you comply nonetheless, letting your head fall back against the couch as you watch him shove down his pants and boxers in one go. soonyoung's fat length springs out, hitting against his abdomen as he shuffles his way in between your legs.

pressing his lips together, he asks, "color?" and when the word green is slipping softly from his mouth, he finds it hard to hold back. "fuck, how are you this needy already," he groans when he catches the look on your face—your bottom lip jutted out as you look up at him with shining eyes.

soonyoung grabs your cheek with one hand roughly, shoving a thumb into your mouth as he positions his cock between your folds. you're quick to wrap your lips around his thumb, sucking hard and swirling your tongue in hopes that it'll egg him on to just stick it in already, but instead he just slides his length up and down your folds.

you pout around his thumb but don't stop sucking, letting the drool run down your chin as tears well up in your waterline, and soonyoung chuckles at the look. "go on baby, go on. know you want it," he coos mockingly, continuing to cover his length in your slick but not actually giving you what you want.

"soonyoungie," you whimper when you can't take it anymore, trying to lift your hips yourself so he'll get the message but then he's pressing down on your stomach and holding you in your place.

"be patient slut," he demands, and your eyes press closed when he does, walls clenching around nothing as the word slips from his mouth. "you just came—are you really that insatiable?"

you nod dumbly as he slips his thumb out of your mouth, using the same, wet hand to tightly squish your cheeks together. soonyoung thinks you look so cute like this—puffy lips and lashes thick with tears—and he doesn't give you even a moment's warning when he snaps his cock inside of you in one go.

his balls are pressed against your ass, and soonyoung holds himself there for just a moment before he's pulling back and thrusting back into you. "god fuck—perfect pussy," he groans, thrust after thrust as you throttle against the couch with the increasing force.

you can feel your ass and thighs burn from the way his skin slaps against yours every single time, the sensation only adding fuel to the fire as you cry out his name.

"bet dongwoo thought about this," soonyoung moans as he starts jamming his cock into you less methodically and more sloppy, more hard, more fierce. "thought 'bout having you moaning his name like the pretty whore you are."

you try to mewl something along the lines of, "we're just friends," but it comes out as nothing but a high pitched moan as your second orgasm creeps up on you.

and it's fucking mind-numbing, and you don't think you've ever cum so hard and so fast but soonyoung is grinning down at you as you arch your back and squeeze around his cock so tight it almost pushes him off the edge but no—he's determined to keep going until you can't take it anymore.

"keep goin' baby, i know you can take it." he hardly gives you a second to rest, thrusts slowing only for a few moments as he watches you cream his cock before letting his hands roam all over you.

in your overstimulated haze, you hardly realize when soonyoung flips you over, cock still buried deep inside your hot cunt as you try to stabilize yourself on your knees. his hand is on the back of your neck, pressing your face into the cushions so hard it muffles your moans as his cock batters your buzzing pussy.

he's ramming into you so hard now and all you can feel is white hot pleasure ripping through your body, soonyoung whispering about how you're his filthy little slut, taking everything he's giving you. gripping onto the side of the couch, you try to hold yourself together, you really, really do, but it's too much all at the same time and the word slips from your lips before you even have to think about using it.

"r-red." it's so quiet and hoarse the first time that you aren't even sure if he can hear you so you cry out again, "red, s-soonyoung, red."

it's all a haze when soonyoung slips out of you slowly, giving you both a few moment to adjust as you finally catch your breath over the hiccups of your soft whimpers.

now soonyoung likes seeing you cry, but not when it's like this. he likes seeing you whine and tear up when you're under him and writhing from pleasure, but what he doesn't like is the way your eyebrows are furrowed like this. 'cause when he looks at you now, he sobers up and the anger that fogged his mind just moments ago is clearing up.

"s-shit, i'm sorry," he says quickly as you curl up against the cushions, limbs still quivering from all the pleasure and stimulation. soonyoung wants to reach out, wants to touch you—hold you—and ask you what wen wrong, promise you that he didn't meant to go too far, promise you that he didn't even realize it, but he's not sure if he should.

because right now you won't meet his gaze and he's wondering if he's somehow royally fucked up what's likely the best thing he's got going on his life.

soonyoung's lost for a few moments before senses are snapping into him and he thinks he should get you some water, a towel—do anything except sit here dumbly like he is right now. but when he shuffles away from you and is about to step of the couch he feels a familiar touch around his wrist and he gapes down at you.

"wait," you mumble, finally looked up at him once the tears have stopped flowing. soonyoung stills for a moment, and he's not sure if he should take that as in invitation to move closer or just stay put, but then you're tugging him softly and he can't help but cave. "can y-you lay on top of me?" you ask timidly, and soonyoung gives you a weird look as if to ask, are you sure? "i, uh, i think it'd help me. please?"

that's all takes for him to drape his whole body over you, arms pressed against your side and hands stroke your shoulders. your bare chests are pressed against you and soonyoung swears your rapid heartbeats sync up on the spot as you breaths start to relax.

when all finally feels calm, soonyoung takes a moment to finally ask you the question that's been bothering him this whole time. lifting his head, he finds you looking right back at him. "are you okay? what went wrong?"

"i—yes, i'm okay."

"a-are you sure? you can tell me anything you know—i won't judge, i won't care—i mean obviously i'll care but you know what i mean and—" he starts to ramble, and your lips almost twitch up into a smile, "—and i'm sorry this isn't about me but i'm worried i did something and might have majorly fucked things up and—"

"soonyoung," you say, voice all breathy and light. "slow down, i'm okay."

"are you?" he asks, and his voice is so shaky you frown.

"yes, i promise. i'm, well, i think i just got overwhelmed. it was a lot and happened really quickly and it was a bit more intense than i'm used to," you admit. "not that i didn't like it ... i just wasn't expecting it."

soonyoung watches you carefully as you speak, sitting up and pulling you up in the process too. "i'm sorry—i didn't realize," he confesses. "i was—" he inhales sharply wondering if he should admit his jealousy, "— a bit lost in my own head. i shouldn't have taken it out on you like that. do you want me to get you water?"

you nod and he stands up, heading to the kitchen to grab you a glass. when he sits back down, next to you, soonyoung is relieved when you curl up by his side, gulping down the drink before questioning him. "um, can i ask what you mean by, uh, lost in your head? wait actually—before you answer that—" you pause, "—do you really think i'm a slut?"

soonyoung's eyes widen. "no—fuck, god no. i just—you know, we usually—you know—degrade. if you don't like it i'll stop and—"

"no no, soonyoung, like, i meant outside of sex. do you think i was—i dunno—messing around with dongwoo?"

dongwoo? "no—i don't think you're a slut for that. shit, i'm sorry—i don't even know what the fuck got into me. i just—i don't even know. okay fuck. fuck. okay. i was jealous."

"of dongwoo? we didn't even fu—"

"i know. i know—it shouldn't even matter because we're not exclusively fucking or whatever but i got jealous okay? i don't know—i fucking love you so i saw him with his stupid hand around you and i wanted to punch him in the fuckin' face."

your eyes snap wide at that. "what? you—fuck—what?"

soonyoung hardly even realizes he's confessed until you're looking up at him with those wide eyes and he wonders how he's managed to dig himself deeper into this hole. shit, there's really no getting out of this now. he might as well crawl down further and sit there for the rest of his life and—

"i, uh—i didn't know you felt the same way."

"what? what do you mean the same way—"

"are you stupid, soonyoung?"

"um, kind of."

you laugh and kiss him hard for a second. suddenly you're pressing his shoulders and swinging a leg over his thighs so you can straddle his laps.

"wait hold on," he murmurs, but continues to wrap his arms around your waist as you lift your hips to align yourself over his still hard cock. "a-are you sure? are you okay?"

"yeah," you mutter, kissing him again as you wrap your arms around his neck. "can we take it a little easier from here though?"

soonyoung doesn't hesitate to say, "yes, of course—" but the last word gets cut off by a hitch of his breath when you sink down on him, the two of you moaning in unison at the feeling. his hands are gripping your waist and holding you down as he relaxes, leaning back into the seat as he casually says, "i am never calling you a slut again. or anything degrading for that matter." it's half a joke, half not, and you can tell he's still on edge.

"i like it," you admit as you adjust yourself on his lap, not really moving yet though. "just—i was a bit worried today. i thought you— i dunno. didn't know you liked me too and i didn't know what to think."

soonyoung furrows his brows but can't find the right words to say, so he kisses you instead, pulling you up so his cock drags out of halfway before gently letting you fall back down, tip hitting your walls slowly but deep.

"fuck," you moan into his mouth, holding his head closer to yours. absentmindedly, you lift your hips up again and then grind down methodically, causing both of you to break away from the kiss and look down at the sloppy wet mess where you connect.

and as you both get lost in the moment, fingers grappling at each other's burning skin, letting your bodies melt together, it dawns on you that you and soonyoung have fucked a countless amount of times but this is the first (of many) that you two have made love.

it's an entirely new experience, dreamy eyes and wet, passionate kisses with whispers of love confessions under your breaths and the smooth and damn good thrusts that slowly but surely bring you to the edge.

"feels so good," soonyoung moans, thrusting up into you gently to meet your bounces as you steady him with your arms around his shoulders.

"g'na cum, soonyoungie?" you try to coo, but it comes out as a whimper of your own as you feel that knot in your belly threaten to snap. and when he's nodding into your neck and sucking on the skin, you both fall apart in each other's arms.

cries and grunts mix together in a beautiful song and when you and soonyoung look at each other, sweating, flushed, teary eyed, and so fucking in love, you know that whatever happens with the two of you after this, it will work.

a/n. hope u enjoyed it!

tags. @synthetickitsune @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @rubyreduji (strikethrough could not be tagged)

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lizslibrary · 3 months

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Facade

Summary: Bucky x Reader fic where Reader is sick but decides to go on a mission anyway.

A/N: This is my first fanfiction, please comment or critique it; I am always open to suggestions. I also struggled on finding a good ending, so I just decided to leave the rest of the story up to the imagination of the reader. 🥰

Warnings: assassin!reader, Sickness; flu, overexertion, guns, fighting, fainting, Slowburn (Picks up in the end,) angst, fluff, guilt, angry Bucky

Word count: 2,007

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I lean my back against the side of the jet, trying to appear as normal as possible. We were going on a HYDRA intel mission and I was sick. I knew going on this mission was a bad decision, but I couldn’t let my team down.

As I took a deep breath, I could feel a pair of eyes watching me; I didn’t even have to look over to know it was Bucky. He stared at me with his arms crossed over his chest and his head tilted slightly backward. I could tell he knew something was wrong, but I didn’t bother meeting his gaze.

A few minutes later, the plane landed in a remote location, and slowly, the back door dropped with a soft hiss. I unstrapped my seatbelt and hoisted my gun over my shoulder walking down the ramp and into a thick layer of snow. The cold air felt nice against my flushed cheeks, and I sighed as I watched the rest of the team trail out of the jet.

Steve stood confidently as he began giving orders, “Sam and Natasha, patrol the outside; make notes of everyone entering and exiting the compound.” “y/n, Bucky and I will take the inside, working on containing and evacuating evidence that may be crucial to Hydra’s destruction.” Steve stood silent for a moment. “Does everyone understand?”

Everyone nodded and stood next to their partners. I notice Bucky watching me from behind Steve. I turned my head away from him so I wouldn’t give myself away. I knew that if he found out I was sick, he would stop the mission and make us turn around.

“The snow is thick, walk slow and conserve energy…we have the whole day ahead of us,” Steve says, beginning to walk forward.

Everyone trudges behind Steve in silence, our footsteps making quiet crunching sounds through the snow. I follow closely behind Steve, while Bucky trails closely behind me. I make sure to place my feet in Steve's already deep footprints, the last thing I wanted was to be drained of my energy before we'd even reach the compound.

I look up at the dark gray sky; we must be high up in the mountains, looking down on what seems like endless miles of nothingness. It wasn't surprising that HYDRA would be located here, being a rather isolated organization.

A little while later I began to make out the rectangular shape of the compound through the dense snow that was falling from the sky. My hands were getting numb from holding onto the straps on my gun holster and my legs ached from walking through the snow. Steve looked over at me, I saw concern but I just gave him a reassuring nod and pushed forward.

As we got closer, I noticed that the base was a massive, grey complex. The building was made of concrete and had no windows, just little square holes that littered the walls...it reminded me of a prison.

Steve came to a stop and crouched behind a concrete barrier, he motioned for us to do the same. The team huddled beside Steve and watched the camp, it was only a few yards away allowing us to see movement from behind the large, barbed fence.

"Send Redwing out, we need to see the safest route for entry," Steve ordered. Sam was quick to oblige, sending the drone into the snowfall.

It hovered above the entrance to the complex, giving us an accurate view of how many guards there were. There were three men posted around the entrance, all wearing black helmets. One of them remained stationed by the gate while the other two patrolled around the gate.

Sam watched the feed from the drone, scanning the screen for any more guards, "Seems like there are only three near the entrance...if you can take them out you have a clear path to a set of double doors." Sam said looking at Steve out of the corner of his eye "The problem is...how are you gonna get in?"

"Tony said that there should be a keypad on the outside, luckily for us he managed to find the code," Steve said with a small grin on his face, I could hear a small chuckle come from Bucky.

Natasha shook her head "I wouldn't expect anything less from that man."

"Sam, keep a watch on Redwing and head to the left side of the building. Natasha, you take right." Steve says "Bucky y/n, follow me...be aware of your surroundings."

As soon as the plan is said, we jump into action. Steve begins creeping towards the front of the complex, with the sound of our footsteps ringing in the snow-covered ground, while Bucky and I cover him. Steve slams his shield into the neck of one of the guards while I wrestle another to the ground and knock him unconscious. My head is spinning as I stand up but I help Bucky take care of the last guy.

With the first threat taken care of, we hurry over to where Steve is standing, "This way," Steve points at a door on the side of the building. We follow closely behind him and watch his back as he types in the code on the keypad.

He grabs the handle and turns it. The door creaks open slowly, revealing a very dimly lit hallway. Steve leads the way down the hall. The smell of damp stone fills the air, with the faint scent of blood and gunpowder lingering in the air. We follow silently behind Steve until we get to the end of the hallway, where it opens up into two different hallways.

“I’ll take the right side, y/n Bucky go left,” Steve says

Bucky and I walk down the left hallway and I can feel my palms getting sweaty with each step. Something felt wrong, where was everyone? Why were there no HYDRA agents? I glance over at Bucky and see that he has a crease in his eyebrows, I could tell he was wondering the same thing. I grip my gun closer to my chest, it was eerily quiet and something felt off…very off.

As we near the end of the hallway we enter a large room. It was filled with old dusty computers and lots of filing cabinets. I approach one of the computers and take out the hard drive making sure to put it in my pocket in hopes that it will be important intell. I watch Bucky enter a side room and suddenly the lights turn off and I jolt when I hear the loud slam of a door shutting.

It’s pitch black and I can hear footsteps circling me in the room “Y/N!? Y/N!” Bucky is pounding his fist on the other side of the door.

I feel disoriented and dizzy as I try and move around the room “Bucky!? Where-?” I am cut off by a gloved hand covering my mouth; I scream and slam my elbow into the person behind me.

My breathing becomes more labored as I try and fight off the people attacking me. I feel myself on the verge of passing out.

I grab my knife out of my pocket and slam it blindly into someone's torso. I lose my balance and I fall backward, causing my head to slam against the corner of the table. I let out a yell of pain and felt a warm liquid running down my neck.

I scramble back into a wall and feel someone else's hands on me, I try and fight back but my movements are disoriented; I am helpless.

As soon as I feel all hope is lost, the door bursts open filling the room with light. Before I know what’s happening gunshots ring out and silence fills the room. My vision is swimming and I see a familiar, blurry silhouette approaching me; guilt fills my stomach.

“M-..sorry Bucky…” I slur as fight from blacking out.

Bucky scoops me up in his arms, and before I know it he is sprinting out of the compound and into the snow. My body is limp in his arms and I can hear him murmuring incoherent prayers as he runs.

Soon, we reach the jet, and he quickly puts me on the medical table. Everything around me is blurry and I don’t know what is happening.

I am so tired. Maybe I should sleep. Bucky wouldn’t be mad if I just slept for a minute…

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My mind is pulled into the dark, tempting world of sleep.

A bright light fills my vision as I wake up. I blink a couple of times in an attempt to get my eyes to adjust to the light. What happened? Where am I? Several thoughts plagued my mind all at once and my body flings itself into an upright position.

Bucky stands up as soon as he sees me awake "Hey, hey! You're okay, you are safe.." Bucky says, gently trying to get me to lay back down.

The memories of last night flood my mind and I feel an intense wave of guilt in the pit of my stomach. I take a small glance at Bucky and notice the relief in his eyes quickly turn to that of hurt, maybe even anger. The look in his eyes pained me to see, I knew he felt upset about my actions.

"Bucky...I-"

"Why?" he says suddenly, staring me straight in my eyes.

"I'm sorry..."

Bucky closes his eyes in an attempt to calm himself "Sorry doesn't cut it." He says sharply "You almost died y/n."

I look away from him and shake my head "I know...but if I hadn't gone someone could have gotten hurt."

I watch anger form in his expression "Liz." His serious tone forces me to look at him "Are you not listening to me? You almost died!" His tone gets louder as he talks, "When I brought you back on the jet you were burning up and sweating...did you know that your fever almost reached 103."

Bucky takes a step backward and faces the wall, he rakes his fingers through his hair. "Do you understand that had I not been there and broken through a metal wall, you would be dead." He turns to face me again "Do you not understand that if you had died in that room; I would have blamed myself?" He looked me in the eyes "Do you not understand that if you died, I would have nothing else to live for?"

"Better me dead than you," I say quietly.

Bucky clenches his fist and inhales a sharp breath "Never, and I mean never, say that shit to me ever again." He grabs my hands and stands silently. "y/n, you give me a reason to wake up in the morning; the feeling I get when I see your gorgeous, happy face in the morning makes me feel alive."

I stare at him speechlessly and he continues "I know this is a terrible place, and a terrible time but I have to tell you..." The look he gives me makes my body tingle "I love you. I love you too much to the point where it hurts...and when we were in that compound I watched as the life drained from your eyes, and I felt more scared in that moment than I have ever had in my entire life...because I knew that If you were to die, I would have nothing left to get me out of bed in the morning, I would have nothing left to get me home safe from missions, I would have no more life because without you; I have none."

Bucky's words make it feel like the world has stopped, like it's just me and him and nothing can stop us from being together. I stare at Bucky's beautiful eyes, and he stares at mine; they tell me that I am here, that I am alive, and that I'm next to the person I love and care about most in this world.

#bucky fluff #bucky barnes x reader #soft bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader

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zorobraun · 11 months

Text

ex husband ghost at your kiddo’s football game part two

“dad, what does ‘sex’ means?” theo asks, looking at simon while they’re playing video games. his father freezes. “what did you just say?” simon stares at his son in disbelief, instantly crashing the car in the game. “sex.” theo says again, his bright soft eyes full of innocence. simon swallows hard, frowning his nose. “first of all, how did you discover the existence of this word?” simon raises an eyebrow at the kid, laughing quietly. “mommy’s friend.” theo replies in a worried tone, his cheeks getting red from both regret and embarrassment.

“is that so?” simon’s tone is a bit angry now. “i’ll have a word with your mom, then.” he adds with a sigh, looking at his son. “don’t, please. it’s not her fault… she was very uncomfortable.” theo’s eyes are desperate and worried. “don’t worry, buddy. i’ll just talk to her… nicely.” simon reassures him with a soft smile, caressing theo’s head. he nods with a half hearted smile. “her friend was saying something about… mom missing the sex she had with you. i wasn’t supposed to hear that, but she’s too loud.” theo swallows hard, looking away.

simon is in shock. he holds back a laugh. “and mom said that… she can’t help but miss having sex with you, that you’re the best she ever had.” theo completes with hesitation in his tone. “oh my god, really?” simon asks with a fake surprise, laughing out loud. he’s not cocky, but he obviously knew that already, you used to tell him all the time. “yes, dad…” theo mutters with a light chuckle, still confused about the meaning of his mom’s statement.

simon shakes his head, still laughing in disbelief. “your mom is crazy, huh?” he says in a playful tone, wrapping his big arms around theo. “sometimes.” the kid replies, laughing too. “so… what’s ‘sex’, anyway?” theo raises an eyebrow, curious and confused. simon takes a deep breath, staring at his son in a serious, calm way. “sex is… an intimate moment that you share with someone you trust.” he explains in a non explicit way, smiling softly. “really? so you and mom… you trusted each other.” theo smiles sadly. “actually, it was more than trust. we… we loved each other, which makes the experience even better.” simon adds in a calm tone.

“do you miss having… that… with mom?” theo raises an eyebrow, innocent and naive as always. simon suddenly sighs quietly, the memories eating him alive. “i can’t believe we’re talking about this, buddy.” he lets out an embarrassed chuckle. “but yeah, i miss it.” he pauses. “i miss everything.” a sad smile appears on simon’s lips. theo stares into his father’s eyes. he knows that simon is not okay, but he decides to ignore that and give him a tight hug. “let’s get you back to mommy’s house.” simon breaks the silence, kissing theo’s temple.

a few minutes later, simon and theo are standing in your doorstep. you quickly open the door with a smile, since you were already expecting them. you crouch when you see theo, hugging him while you kiss his soft cheeks. “i’ve missed you!” you chuckle quietly, kissing all over his face. “mom, stop, it tickles!” he chuckles, pulling away from you. simon smiles softly in silence. the loud thunder makes the three of you look at the sky. the rain is just getting worse.

you look at simon. his eyes look like coming home. like listening to an old good song after months without listening to it. “hi.” you greet him, smiling. “hey.” simon smiles back, his fingers interlocking with your strands, caressing your head gently. “he already had dinner. and he also showered.” simon tells you, just like always. most of your conversations with him are like this. you nod with a smile. “um, you should come in. it’s raining too much.” you look at simon with a an awkward smile, making him chuckle quietly as he shakes his head. “it’s fine, but thanks.” he says, looking at you. “seriously, don’t drive right now. don’t make me worried.” you reply, touching his arm in a friendly way. simon seems to be hesitant.

“please, dad. stay a little longer.” theo grabs simon’s hand, pulling him inside. simon could never deny his son, so he gives in, clearing his throat before looking around your cozy living room. the living room that was once his, too. it’s a bit awkward to realize that he let you stay without even thinking twice, while he had to buy another place to live. “make yourself at home.” you say the magic words and simon feels that pain in his heart. this is his home. or used to be…

“can i get you something to drink?” you ask with a weak smile. “i’m fine, thanks.” he smiles back and you nod. simon takes a seat on the couch, theo throws himself beside his father. before you could sit next to theo, he leaves the couch to give attention to the puzzle on the ground. you and simon look at each other with a soft smile. you sit next to simon on the couch, making sure to keep a certain distance. “so, did you guys have fun?” you ask with a playfulness in your tone. “of course, mom.” theo chuckles, focused on the puzzle. simon chuckles too, his gaze shifting from theo to you.

“hey, can i talk to you about something?” simon asks, laying his arm lazily on the couch, his body turned towards you. you swallow hard, nodding. “sure. what is it?” you smile nervously. “tell claire to stop talking about sex in front of my son, for fuck’s sake.” simon laughs quietly, touching your hand and squeezing it in a playful manner. your cheeks get instantly red. “w-what? i mean, how… how do you know it’s claire?” you seem embarrassed at first but you end up laughing, slapping simon’s thigh.

“i know all of your friends, idiot. only claire would talk about such things in front of theo.” simon laughs again, making you laugh even more. “i already told her, alright? she’s impossible, i swear…” you smile playfully as you shake your head. “oh, i can tell.” simon mutters in a joking tone. you raise an eyebrow at him, mockingly. “she’s so blunt, it’s funny.” he adds, chuckling.

“she really is. remember that time when you first saw her? it was right in the beginning of our relationship, we had just started dating…” you say with a nostalgic smile. simon’s attention is fixed on you, a laugh wanting to leave his throat because he knows exactly what you’re talking about. “fuck yeah… she said: oh, honey. this isn’t your boyfriend anymore, it’s ours. i couldn’t believe my ears when she said that.” simon completes, laughing out loud, just like you.

“oh my god… i was so embarrassed. i felt so bad for you.” you mumble between chuckles, grabbing simon’s arm in a playful manner. “i was willing to break up with you, she almost scared me off.” simon jokes in a teasing tone, chuckling. you roll your eyes with a laugh, pushing him away. he laughs, adjusting himself on the couch. you stare at his lap for some reason, maybe because you just had flashbacks of the two of you having some late night fun on this couch. simon raises an eyebrow at you, clearly judging your malicious stare. you shy away.

the tension is too heavy when simon sighs quietly, staring into your eyes with so much longing that it almost hurts. he misses you like crazy… but then his brain reminds him that your boyfriend is probably upstairs, waiting for you, as he lays down on the bed that you used to share with simon. suddenly, he gets mad. he gets mad because that stupid boyfriend of yours doesn’t deserve you. he can’t even handle being with a woman like you. simon clears his throat uncomfortably, trying his best to ignore his intrusive thoughts.

“mom, did you tell dad about your wedding?” theo breaks the silence while focused on his puzzle and the world stops. simon holds his breath for a while, staring into your eyes as if he’s pleading to hear that this wedding thing is a joke. he feels like theo’s words opened an unhealed wound. he sighs quietly, looking away. the realization hits him. so you weren’t bluffing when you said that you were actually willing to marry your boyfriend. your eyes are filled with despair as you notice simon’s reaction, you can almost hear his heart shattering. “i’m so happy for you.” he finally says something, but his words are meaningless, shallow. he leaves the couch so he doesn’t have to be near you.

“w-wait, where are you going?” you stand up too, grabbing his arm. “i’m going home.” simon replies with a fake soft smile. you can see in his eyes that he’s devastated. “simon, just… stay. let’s talk.” you swallow hard as your touch stays on him. “i think we’re both done talking.” he replies in an annoyed, upset tone, still faking a small smile. “no, simon. i know you…” you insist in a frustrated frown. “don’t leave me in the dark, alright? please. your opinion matters to me.” your voice breaks a little, already fighting the urge to cry. simon has that pain hidden in his face, that you only saw when he was right on the edge.

“what do you want me to say, y/n? do you need my approval, is that it? don’t you think i’ve had enough of your bullshit already?” simon asks with an extreme frustration in his tone, a hint of betrayal. you hold eye contact with him in silence. a silence that’s too loud. you lick your lips nervously, swallowing hard. “i need… i need you to be okay with this. i need to hear you say that i won’t hurt you if i marry him.” you say in a whisper, your eyes tearing up.

simon sighs heavily, looking away in disbelief. he takes a step back. “oh, you want me to be okay with this? you must be out of your goddamn mind.” simon says with a hint of sarcasm. “i can’t keep doing this, y/n. i can’t keep getting in the way of your new love life, just because you want me to. stop relying on me to make decisions that i don’t have the power to make. i’m so fucking tired of having to watch you give all of your love to another man, right in front of my eyes.” simon stares at you with a certain anger as he comes closer again, grabbing the back of your neck with both hands. he’s tearing up. “can’t you see that?” he whispers, almost begging.

“you ended me the night you asked for a divorce instead of trying to make things right again, because you know damn well that i was more than happy to fight for you. for our marriage.” simon’s tired eyes are still on yours, just like his hands on the back of your neck. “so yes, you will hurt me if you marry him. after all we’ve been through… you betrayed me. i spent years loving you, treating you right, taking care of you, helping you through tough times… just so you could change your mind about us and fall in love with someone new in less than a year.” his chest tightens with his own words, pure betrayal consuming his veins.

“all i ever wanted was you, with all of your qualities and flaws. i wanted my son to have both of his parents living under the same roof. but maybe i asked for too much.” he says, a hint of disappointment in his low voice. tears start running down your cheeks and he sighs tiredly, wiping your tears away, again. “you see? you break me in half but i’m always the one to put you back together somehow, when your boyfriend should be doing it. so look me in the eyes and say that he deserves to be with you. say it. you can’t. because it’s my hand you reach for when you’re falling apart.” simon adds, kissing your tears away. it catches you off guard.

you can’t seem to have the strength to answer, so you just stay silent, feeling the safe warm feeling of his touch on you. simon stares into your eyes, waiting for a response. “y-you don’t understand, simon…” you mutter in a shaky voice. his hands are shaky too. he closes his eyes for a second, feeling even more frustrated and desperate with your words. his pleading gaze fixed on you, his chest rising up and down.

“you don’t seem to understand how this breaks my heart, love. you haunt me. i search for you in anyone, anywhere. i search for you in my empty bed, in the passenger’s seat of my car. in the grocery store, by my side, reading our grocery list out loud. i search for you when i’m out with our friends, when i’m at my mom’s and she asks how have you been, when i’m watching our favorite movie with theo for the thousandth time.” he swallows the lump in his throat. you close your eyes, you can’t handle it anymore. “god knows i even miss your toothbrush next to mine.” he chuckles quietly and sadly, making your heart break.

theo stares at his parents with sad, guilty eyes. but he knows that this seems to be a conversation for adults, only. so he stays quiet, turning his attention back to the puzzle. “you said you wanted my opinion, so i’ll give you just that. i want you to be happy, with or without me. if you’re sure that he’s the one for you, marry him. don’t let me hold you back.” simon’s voice is trembling, he keeps holding back his tears, he needs to sound firm and reassuring. “i’ve got you, always.” he adds and you sob uncontrollably, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug.

you hide your face in the crook of his neck while he strokes your waist gently. “i… i can’t live without you.” you whisper against his skin, almost begging for him to keep getting in the way of your new love life. simon sighs heavily. “you don’t mean that, love. you were the one who decided to live without me in the first place.” he places a bitter kiss on the top of your head. simon hates the fact that you make him weak to the point where he doesn’t even mind being raw and vulnerable. you know all sides of him, anyway. just like he knows all of yours.

“dad, please…” theo mutters, making the two of you stare at him with surprised eyes. “just tell her.” he turns his gaze towards his parents, holding back a cry. simon immediately walks towards him, crouching in front of the kid. he feels terrible for having that type of conversation with you in front of his son. theo starts crying quietly, making simon widen his eyes with a certain despair. “h-hey, kiddo, it’s okay…” simon picks him up, hugging him tightly. “i’m so, so sorry. i shouldn’t have said all of that in front of you, i’m sorry, buddy.” simon strokes theo’s back, kissing the top of his head.

you take a deep breath to calm yourself down, trying your best to stop crying. you have to be strong for your son. you walk towards them. “you always make her cry, dad…” theo mutters with a sob and simon’s heart and breathing stop for a moment. “theo, baby, no… it’s not like this at all.” you stand up for simon, caressing your son’s wet cheeks. “your dad is… the most caring, lovable person in this whole world, okay? don’t ever say that again.” you plead him, kissing his forehead. simon feels like shit.

“he’s a liar… he said that you’re still his love… that he misses everything.” theo says in a low tone, touching your face. simon sighs heavily with a defeated frown. you look at simon in silence, speechless. “enough, theo.” simon says in a more firm tone. he puts his son back on the ground, crouching in front of him. simon looks theo in the eyes, grabbing his shoulders gently. “sometimes love is not enough, but you’re too young to understand that.” simon completes, caressing his son’s cheeks.

theo stares at you with hopeful eyes, waiting for your response to his father’s statement. but you never open your mouth. “i already told you, mommy’s in love with someone else and that’s okay. that’s life. people come and go, right? just like waves. you know when we’re at the beach, swimming in the sea? the waves, they come and go.” simon smiles softly at him, kissing the top of his head before standing up. theo looks at you, disappointed.

“i-i do love you, simon.” you grab his arm, getting a little mad at his statement. “don’t say that in front of our son.” you scold him with red, puffy eyes. “you know exactly what i meant.” simon bites back, almost in an angry whisper, touching your arm briefly. “just be happy, alright? but don’t you dare be happier than you were with me. do this one thing for me, love.” he adds as a single sour tear runs down his cheek. he can’t hold back anymore. simon runs his fingers through your hair gently, while more tears start filling up his eyes. he breathes out, placing his hand on the back of your neck.

you’re staring at him as if you’re screaming i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry. i’m sorry for punishing you for things you never did. he pulls your face closer to his, leaning his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, so you can’t see how betrayed he feels in the corner of his eyes. “you broke me like your promises, but just between us… you’ll never be unloved by me. you’re too well tangled in my soul.” he whispers, being completely honest. you sob, speechless. then he kisses you. it’s not a passionate kiss. it’s a sad, tender, salty kiss. it’s the last kiss. it’s the closure kiss, for him.

this is the night in which simon finally sets himself free from the bitter embrace of your ghost. he officially gave up on you, for good. and you can feel it too — in the way he breaks the kiss without even looking at your face. he even seems a bit disgusted. simon pulls away from you, walking towards the door without looking back. now you feel cold without his body to make you warm. “i’ll pick you up at school tomorrow, kid.” simon mutters to theo in a defeated cold tone before leaving your house.

your love maimed him so excruciatingly well that suddenly he feels like a soldier who’s returning half his weight, waiting for his lover’s deadly kiss to put him in a never ending sleep.

#call of duty #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley #simon riley angst #simon riley fluff #simon riley smut #simon riley x y/n

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aphroditesmoon · 2 years

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Could you write Xavier X FemReader in which the reader is Wednesday’s family member (sister, cousin, etc) and her and Xavier we starting to get close then all of a sudden her starts acting cold/rude so she thinks she did something wrong and he hates her when in reality Xavier has started being mean is because he’s been in love with her since he saw her but she’s been getting really close with Tyler so she confronts him and he does an angry love confession????

it's you I think of

xavier thorpe x reader

summary: xavier tries to win the heart of the other addams sister, but she just doesn't seem to get the message.

warnings: bit angst but mostly fluff

A/N: Thanks for requesting anon! hope you like this!

°°°

"So, is your name based on weekdays too or?" The long haired boy started as he stands beside you, observing your position as you shoot your arrow and misses again.

You sigh and he steps closer with your back to his chest as he guides your hand with the arrow. "Here, like this."

You feel your heart speeds up but says nothing as you watch him take the lead and hits the arrow straight to the aim.

He slowly steps aside and smiles at you. You give a small smile and gives him your name.

He fakes gasp, "Oh she speaks?" When you roll your eyes and drop your smile he immediately makes it clear he was just joking.

"I know, I'm not easily offended, there's been worse things said to me." You state, picking up another arrow to practice.

"So, do I have to assume you are as terrifying as your sister?" He asks with a teasing grin.

"Oh no, I'm afraid she has already claimed the title of homicidal psychopath in our family, truly the pride and joy of the Addams name. As for me, You'll learn soon enough." You explain, this time your arrow hits straight to the aim, You lower your bow in pride.

"So you mean to say we might end up close enough for me to learn about you myself?"

he had too many questions.

You shook your head and thank him for his lessons before walking away to your dorm room.

°°°

Despite being roommates with Yoko, she has not made a single effort to befriend you, as glad as you are for the peace, you could tell it's because of the growing closeness between you and Xavier, the girls were ignoring you in solidarity to Bianca.

You were thankful for that.

It wasn't that you asked Xavier to befriend you, but he was persistent in knowing you, and he seems to respect your boundaries enough to not push you or cross the line, so you accepted his friendship, it was nice to share the quietness with someone else sometimes.

He has even let you sit in the corner of his shed to watch him paint and sketch.

That was probably your favourite activity these days, the comfortable silence and watching him fully concentrate on his artworks.

Today was one of the days you'd get to watch him work, he had sat beside someone else during their classes together that afternoon, but you assumed their routine still remained.

Walking towards the shed, you notice chains around the handles of the door. It was definitely locked as you try to pull it off.

This was confusing, if he wasn't coming today then why wouldn't he tell you?

Bumping into Bianca as you're walking back to your dorm, you gave it a chance and asked her if she knew where Xavier was.

Her scoff and smile was mocking. "Aw, did he finally decide drop your deadweight of an ass?"

You raise your eyebrows at her challenged.

"That's weird, last time I checked, it was you that got dumped." Indulging in her baffled expression, You walk past her to continue looking for your friend.

He wasn't in the library or any of the classes. The last place there was to check was his room, a place you don't think you're allowed to.

°°°

The next day was busy as everyone prepared for the rave'n dance. You weren't much of a partier, but you had hoped to ask a certain someone, so you made an effort to search for a decent enough dress.

You snatched the first dress that caught your attention, not liking the whole experience you had force yourself to go through. It was emerald coloured dress, giving in to the assigned flora and fauna theme this year.

Stepping into the local coffee shop, you were met with Tyler as he prepared you your usual.

"You look burnt out, went hiking or something?" He questions.

You chuckled. "Dress shopping." He raises his eyebrows and grin.

"Oh you're going to Rave'n then? Didn't seem like the type that would, got a date?"

Your smile slowly drops as you shook your head.

He nods understanding. "Well, I mean, if you're looking for one, I'm always free this Saturday." He winks and you bite your cheeks.

His attention snaps to the door as the bell rings.

and a customer enter. You turn around and widen your eyes in suprise to see Xavier.

His too as he takes your appearance in.

He walks closer, turning to look at Tyler, then back at you.

Tyler uncomfortably backs away from leaning at the counter to you and clears his throat.

"Uh, want a coffee?" He asks Xavier slowly.

He nods carefully, before taking a seat next to you, watching Tyler move to the espresso machine.

"Didn't know you two are friends." He starts.

You let out an annoyed laugh and glares at him.

"Really?" He blinks, not understanding what you mean.

"You don't answer my texts, didn't tell me you weren't going to be at the shed, and now you're talking to me like you haven't been ignoring me?" You snapped.

"Wha- I've been busy, I forgot-"

"You've been busy, you forgot, which one is it?" You Interrogate.

"Both! Look, I'm sorry alright, I should've let you know, I forgot." He explains as Tyler brings you both your coffee.

Xavier's eyes wanders to the paperbag in your hand. "Is that a dress? You're going to the rave'n?" He asks suspiciously.

"Why shouldn't I?" You ask defensively.

"I didn't say you shouldn't, I just- I mean, do you have a date?"

You instinctively nodded. "I'm... going with Tyler! Right, Tyler?" You immediately turn to him, silently begging him to agree.

Tyler, playing along, nods and confirms.

Xavier's expression changed, and the guilt in his eyes turns blank as he processes what you said.

"Oh." Disappointment laced his voice for some reason. He snatch his coffee and stand to leave. "I'll uh, see you later then." He says briefly before leaving.

you feel the pit of your stomach churn as you thank Tyler.

°°°

The Rave'n dance was unspeakably boring. You'd rather be in your room and read with Chopin playing in the background.

Instead you're stuck here awkwardly eating your cake with Tyler by your side.

You spot Xavier by Bianca's side as they walk in together, his eyes meet yours and the betrayal you feel was deep. He had gone back to her.

You excuse yourself to the bathroom, feeling Xavier's gaze burning through your back as you walk away.

You pull back tears and touched up your lipstick after repeating the breathing exercise Kinbott has taught you.

Feeling less upset and more out together aftet successfully preventing a breakdown, you walk out towards your date.

Only to find him on the dancefloor with your sister, Wednesday.

Of course, he had only asked you to get close to her. No one ever wanted you for you.

You were glad you didn't really like him and disappointedlu went to grab a drink. You scan the room and notice Bianca dancing with Yoko, It was then that you notice Xavier wasn't anywhere to be seen. You frown and walked out while no one notice. The idea of knocking on his door was halted as you remember you weren't allowed there, If you were caught, it wasn't the punishment you were scared of but rather the embarrassment.

There was only one option left.

°°°

Climbing through windows and walls, you pull out a small screwdriver, unlocking the window next to his bedside, before pushing it open and jumping in.

As your feet lands on his bed, you hear him yelp and swear loudly. There he was in all his glory, in front of the bathroom door.

"[name]?!, What the fuck? Did you seriously just climbed through my window-"

"You weren't at the shed today, and you stopped sitting next to me in class. In fact if I'm remembering it right, you didn't even want me in the shed with you last week too." He turns quiet, eyes not meeting yours.

"You're avoiding me, why?" You ask, making him scoff and turn away from you as he walks towards Rowan's old bed.

You walk to him, pulling him by his hands to look at you.

"Did I do something? Have I offend you?" You go straight to the point.

He frowns. "Offend me? God are you clueless or something."

Saying that you were confused would be an understatement.

"Let's say that I am, spell it out for me then."

He shook his head and pushed your hand away. "I'm not- I'm not offended, okay? Just leave, okay? Go back to your date, and not by the windo-"

"I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong." You insist and he sighs.

you two stood like that for a few seconds, refusing to grant eachother's request.

You broke the silence first, unable to take it anymore.

"Xavier, you are my first friend ever, besides my old pet tarantula spider that was accidental killed in our washing machine." He makes a face of disgust.

"I- What I mean is, If I had done anything to hurt you, it was probably accidental, I am not the best when it comes to making friends, let alone, keeping then." You notice his body relaxing as his gaze softens.

"I would understand if you no longer want to associate with me, but I would be very grateful if you could tell me why." You pleaded, heart breaking.

You didn't think you could ever feel this upset.

People had always assumed you were as heartless as your sister, given your awkward and introverted personality.

But the truth was you used your antisocial personality as a wall againts human interaction because you were sensitive. Your heart was the opposite of Wednesday's.

Xavier sighs and closes his eyes briefly before looking at you firmly.

"You didn't offend me, well- not really, it's just-"

"Its- I avoided you, because I thought you didn't feel the same way I did." His confession did not clear anything up for you.

You scrunch your face confused.

"Feel? Feel what?"

His lips became a thin line as he rolls his eyes.

"[name], I like you"

"I like you too, I just told you that-

"No, I-" He sighs loudly again.

"I like you, more than a friend, should. And I thought I've been dropping multiple hints since we met but it seems you've gotten none of them, I thought you just weren't interested in me like that, or else you would've seen them, wouldn't you?"

Your eyes widen as understanding fills you.

The brief silence scared him as he tells you to forget about it and leave.

"Wha- No, no Xavier, I do like you." You immediately tells him before you could stop yourself.

He freezes and his yes scan you for any lies or deceit.

"Right, and you're definitely not saying this because I'm your only friend and you feel bad."

You shook your head but he still looks unconvinced.

"You went out with Tyler. Fucking Tyler. How does anything you do backs up what you're saying?" Tyler's name sounds like a curse coming from his tongue, And you have to admit, it makes you like him more.

"It does make sense what you're saying, but if Im only saying this because I'm lonely, would I do this?" You challenge him.

"Do what?" He asks, eyebrows furrowed.

You answer him by pulling him down by his vest and meeting your lips with his.

Automatically he reciprocates it and his arms move to wrap around your waist.

You smile againts his mouth and you feel him copy it.

Breaking the kiss to catch a breath, he grins at you, all his sulking seemingly gone.

"So just to be clear, you're not doing this because you feel bad or anything right? I don't know, maybe you should convince me again, just to be sure."

Your face breaks into a smile as you grant his wish.

#xavier thorpe fanfic #xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe x you #xavier thorpe wednesday #wednesday netflix

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itsnotgray · 6 months

Text

what a duo | jack hughes

imagine jack hughes with a grumpy x sunshine trope

like you’ve got mr.sunshine personified, who somehow winds up with his own little storm cloud.

he meets her at a bar in jersey, where she’s sitting in the corner, fondly watching her friends, happy to stay out of their chaos. and jack just spots her from across the room, dead set on getting to know who she is.

now, the second she makes eye contact with him, she knows who he is. how could she not? his face is plastered all over jersey, the gem of the city. but does that make her change her normal attitude? ahahaha- no.

she immediately locks eyes with him, and says “no, nice try,” and makes her way to her friends, unable to see jacks entire body seemingly recoil at her rejection.

a few days later, one of nico’s friends is having a baby shower, and nico unfortunately couldn’t make it, claiming he was “sick” (jack knew the man had a date he thought jack didn’t know about) instead, sending jack in his place.

jack, while loving to be social, isn’t into being social with a massive crowd of strangers. so instead, he gravitated towards the corner. where, surprise surprise- he’s met with the face of the woman who rejected him.

upon seeing the man, she goes to move away, before seeing his demeanor not as cheerful as she remembered it (which she instantly decided she hated. he should always be cheerful- it looked so much better on him).

“what, not running away this time?” he snaps, eyes glued to the masses of people congregating in the backyard. after a few beats of silence, she sighs, before answering, “i’m sorry.” “stormy, apologizing to me? never thought i’d see the day!” he exclaims, cheerful personality seeping through his pores yet again, a brightness within him unable to be contained.

she giggles, quickly getting used to his antics, before pausing. “…stormy?” she questioned, head tilting in jack’s direction (jack thinks she looks adorable- a bit like an angry kitten).

“well when i saw you in the corner of the bar, you looked like the sad guy in the cartoons who has a literal storm cloud hovering over their head,” he shyly muttered, taking a sip of the now warm drink clasped in his hand, glancing nervously towards the sea of people.

a longer period of silence ensues, jack beginning to grow fearful of her reaction. so much so, that he goes to get up to relocate to the opposite corner of the room, before she suddenly speaks.

“well then i guess that makes you sunshine?” she questions in a teasing tone.

“excuse me?” he quickly answers, confusion radiating from his body.

“if i reminded you of a storm cloud, then i guess that makes you sunshine. because the minute you made your way towards me, despite my reaction, you lit up the room jack. so- that makes you sunshine,” she finishes, her cheeks growing red, matching the red tinge on jack’s cheeks

at her sudden outburst, jack has relaxed back into his seat, a comfortable silence now taking over.

the pair sit in a short silence before jack breaks it, “sunshine and a storm cloud- what a duo we are,” he states, causing the duo to burst into a fit of giggles.

and that- that was the start of something truly beautiful.

#jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey oneshot #new jersey devils #nhl fic #jack hughes #nhl hockey #hockey fanfiction #hockey imagines

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fandomxpreferences · 1 year

Text

Fighting About A Funnel Cake

Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Female!Reader

TW:none

Summary: You're mad at Rafe, and much to your displeasure, he figures out the real reason.

Word Count:1k

Few things have ever scared Rafe Cameron. He's had guns held to his head, fist-fought his own father, and been in business with people who have the power to make him disappear. He never even flinched.

The few things that have scared him, were nothing to do with him and everything to do with you and your life together.

He was struck with deep visceral fear when he found out about your son, James, and down petrified when he found out about your daughter, Eleanor.

He was drowning in fear driving you to the hospital as contractions ripped through you, and he almost threw up the first time your son got an injury.

However, nothing elicits terror all the way in his bones as much as that look in your eyes or the fire in your voice when you're angry at him.

Usually, he knows he did something and gets ahead of the storm. He buys you something nice, plans a date, and prepares an elaborate apology.

You see it from a mile away, but it usually works. Tonight, however, he's blindsided and has no clue what's gotten you so worked up. It's always worse when he's clueless about his fuck up.

He has no doubt he did something; he screws up all the time without realizing it. But knowing allows him to have a game plan and tailored approach.

Right now he's floundering.

"Kids, go to your room. I need to talk to your father."

There's thinly veiled rage in your voice as you try your best not to show it in front of your children. They stand to leave and Rafe's frantic voice rings out.

"No, kids stay. Please."

Your eyes narrow as your seven and nine-year-old falter and look between the two of you.

"Go."

They start walking again and Rafe stops them.

"No, stay. I'll pay you each $50 if you sit back down."

Your son looks at his sister and they seem to have a silent conversation when you speak through gritted teeth.

"Go, now.'

Your daughter starts to leave while your son stays in place and Rafe tries to grab her arm as she passes by.

"Eleanor, stay!"

His pleading falls on deaf ears as she beelines for the stairs and he turns to your son that's now moving in the same direction.

"James, don't go!"

He watches as they both disappear and calls out after them.

"Kids, don't leave me!"

He turns back to you with a timid smile and shrinks back when he sees the storm brewing in your usually bright eyes.

"Hone-" He starts but you cut him off.

"Don't, Rafe."

His mouth snaps shut and he waits for you to continue. The ball is in your court, it always is. You're the only woman that's ever been able to put him in his place, and while it's the reason he fell for you, it's also the reason he fears for his life sometimes. This is one of those moments.

Your eyes bore into him for a few moments and you take in the genuinely clueless look on his handsome features.

"You have no idea why I'm mad, do you?"

His silence is all the answer you need, and you huff.

"Were you going to tell me you took the kids out of school for a joyride in Charleston?"

The words come down on him like a hammer and his eyes flutter closed. Fuck.

"Don't be mad."

You scoff and cross your arms.

"I think we both know we're well past that."

He does know that, but he figures it couldn't hurt to try.

"They've been begging to go to that amusement park, and our weekends have been so booked up we haven't had the chance. I felt bad, and my dad never did stuff like that with us. I just wanted to make a memory with them."

You feel yourself deflate a bit at his reasoning, but it doesn't make it okay.

"I understand that, Rafe. But their education is important. When you do stuff like that, especially behind my back, it makes me look like the fun-sucking parent. We promised when we found out about James that we wouldn't do that."

He nods his head and you feel the anger dissipate at the genuine sorrow in his eyes.

"I know, baby. I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

You stand still with your lips pursed for a moment before nodding. It's silent for a few seconds when a smile breaks out on your husband's face.

"Wait, are you really mad about that? Because we've done stuff like that before. Or are you mad that you missed out and didn't get a funnel cake?"

The way this man sees right through you gets on your nerves sometimes, and you scramble to hide the fact you've been caught.

"What? No, of course not. That's ridiculous."

His smile only grows as he stands and wraps his arms around you. You stare up at him with defiance and he tilts his head to the side like a puppy.

"Is it?"

You roll your eyes and will yourself not to give in.

"Yes."

He nods with a shit-eating grin and lowers his face to nip on your ear.

"Would you still be mad if I told you we can go back this weekend and you can get all the snacks you want?"

He nuzzles into your neck when he feels your smile on the side of his face before pulling back.

"Really?"

His heart warms at the way you light up like a little kid at the idea and he nods.

"Really."

He sees the moment your walls come down and you return his embrace.

"Can we play the games too?"

He chuckles and kisses your temple softly.

"Anything you want."

The last of the fight leaves you and you surrender to him completely.

"Okay, fine. You're forgiven."

You squeal as he spins you around and loud laughter bubbles from your chest.

"That's my girl. I love you."

You grin as he sets you back down and nudge his shoulder.

"I love you too. Even if you do piss me off."

#rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fic #Rafe Cameron #Rafe Cameron x reader #Rafe Cameron fluff #outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks fluff

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hogwartslegacyreactions2 · 2 months

Text

HLC REACT TO SEEING MC AGAIN AFTER SUMMER BREAK

MC steps down from the Hogwarts Express on the Hogsmeade Platform. The birds singing they're departure south as the cooling fall air blows the leaves from the trees. MC takes a deep breath, it was good to be back.

Through the crowd of students filing out of the train, MC spots a familiar face. With a smile as big as their excitement, they charge their favorite friend.

~~~

Sebastian Sallow: He smiles. The few months of summer felt like a liftime, and letters would never do MC justice. He plays coy at first, letting MC do all the running for a hug, but he can't keep a straight face. He's just as enthusiastic and even spins them around if he can lift them. He laughs, "Missed me?"

Ominis Gaunt: He doesn't see them coming, but still manages to dodge their attack. He smirks when he hears MC hit the ground with a satisfying thump. "I missed you as well, MC. Please, don't run on the train platform. It's quite dangerous." He reaches out his hand for them to take.

Anne Sallow: She's just as pumped to see MC. She nearly runs over a first year getting to MC and locking herself in their embrace. She keeps hugging them, longer than what would be considered "normal". The embrace softens and they stand together until the groundskeeper has to shout to get them moving with the other students.

Imelda Reyes: She doesn't see MC, but when they attempt to grab her from behind, she slips out of their grasp and pins them against the train with enough force to nearly dent the metal train car. Her angry glare turns to immediate shock and she steps back. "MC!? Wha- WHY WOULD YOU SNEAK UP ON ME LIKE THAT!?" She catches MC as they slump away from the train, the wind knocked out of them. "Um...welcome back?"

Natsai Onai: She locks eyes with MC and meets them stride for stride. Her smile widens with every step and she hugs them as tight as possible. "I have missed you so much. It felt like summer would never end." Her hug is strong and warm and was the best way to come back to Hogwarts.

Garreth Weasley: He's pulling jellied lacewings out of his hair when MC approaches. "Merlin's blooming beard! These things have far more adhesive properties than i- oh, hello MC! Have a nice summer?" He goes to wave but his hair sticks to his fingers and yanks with own head sideways. "OW!"

Leander Prewett: He's talking to another friend when MC pounces. He's nearly knocked to the ground but finds his balance. "WHO-!?...MC?" His surprise immediately melts to awkward bashfulness. "MC why are you- that is, what are-...uh..." He doesn't know what to do. He never expected MC to miss him this much.

Amit Thakkar: He's trying to reclose his trunk for the 15th time. It keeps popping open from the amount of textbooks in it. He catches MC out of the corner of his eye and turns to them just in time for their hug. "MC! It's so good to see you!" He quickly ends the hug to pull out a book and give it to them. "Here, I found this study done on Ancient Magic. It wasn't taken seriously at the time of its publishing, but considering what happened last year... Maybe you'll find it useful."

Everett Clopton: He feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns and no one is looking at him. He feels a tap on his other shoulder. "Wha..?" He does a nearly full turnaround when he finally catches MC's cloak running around behind him. He turns around in the other direction, sharply and catches them. "HA! Gotcha!" He shares a sincere hug with them and pulls out a few dung bombs. "So, who shall we prank first?"

Poppy Sweeting: She sees them coming and hides in the sea of black robes, using her height to her advantage. She manages to take MC by surprise and hug them first. Her hiding and hunting skills would make any Kneazle proud. "If you thought you'd get to me first, you had another thing coming. Missed you too. Have you been as worried as I have been over the beasts in The Room? Deek is an incredibly capable elf, there were quite a few-" She's silenced by MC hugging her tighter.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy reactions #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #anne sallow #imelda reyes #natsai onai #garreth weasley #leander prewett #amit thakkar #everett clopton #poppy sweeting

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johnwickb1tsch · 3 months

Text

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 17 all chapters

WARNINGS: THE MOST YANDERE CHAPTER OF THIS YANDERE FIC YET. POSESSIVE BEHAVIOR, NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT. PLZ TAKE CARE. I LUV U ALL.😘

-In the haze between sleep and waking, you are vaguely aware of strong arms wrapped around you, a lean and long body spooned at your back. You feel warm, and safe, and by some signal of scent or touch or cosmic connection from your hindbrain, somehow you just know that it’s Mr. Wick who has you folded up in his embrace. How perfectly you fit, with the curve of your backside tucked against his hips, your legs tangled under the covers.

Your Half Asleep Brain is totally fine with this cozy arrangement. You don’t really remember how you got here, but maybe something for once actually went right.

You let yourself doze.

But then he shifts against you, (that inevitable male hardness poking against your backside), and you wake up a little more, your faculties returning to you as the dreamy curtain of slumber slips away. You start to remember what happened before—the chase, and the murder—and Awake Brain is suddenly not ok with your current arrangement at all.

Awake Brain is ready to freak the fuck out.

You stiffen in his arms, trying to sit up, but that inexorable grip tightens around you.

“Easy.”

You struggle, but he effortlessly pins you, wrapping a long leg around yours. Between his greater strength and solid weight pressing you down into the mattress, you are stuck.

“Let me go,” you growl.

“Not until we have a little talk.”

Under different circumstances this position could have been interesting. The hard line of his lean body is pressed against you…the length of him against the curve of your bottom.

At least someone is having a good time.

Even like this from behind, you can tell it’s something to be reckoned with. The thought fills you with an inconvenient bloom of heat, your body betraying you while skipping into the darkness with a song. Your own reaction to him almost makes you angrier than his own actions.

“What the fuck, John?” You strain against him again, naturally, to no avail. He doesn't taunt you, just holds you immobile, and you are a butterfly against a hurricane.

“Calm down.”

“Then let me go.”

You feel him breathe in the scent of your hair behind your ear, before releasing a shuddering sigh.

“We’re in a predicament, y/n.”

“No shit.”

“I think after what you saw...you know I can't let you go.”

Oh, what's a little quadruple homicide between friends?

You have the sense to keep this to yourself, at least.

“I won't say anything.”

“Uh huh.”

“I didn't say anything about the guys in the van.”

“Well, you didn't have any real evidence then. Just suspicion.”

“But...you so killed those guys in the van.”

There’s a long pause before he finally admits, “Yeah.”

You’re not sure why that makes you try to struggle again. It’s just as fruitless as before.

“Who were those guys you killed?”

You are met with silence. “In Venice?”

Jesus, do you actually have to clarify with this man?

“They were not nice people, y/n.”

“I gathered that. But... who were they?”

John sighs against you, and you take some heart as you feel his grip loosen slightly so he’s not absolutely crushing you. “They were enforcers for the Camorra crime syndicate.”

“And...why did they have such a problem with you?”

“Bad blood, from an old job I did in Rome.”

A job. You’ve seen enough movies to know what that means. He really was a hitman. Jesus H Christ.

“You thought they wouldn't want revenge, if you went back to Italy?”

“I had to risk it.”

“Did you?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

You’re baiting him, but you just can’t help it. You’re angry, and you’re sore, and he’s pinning you down like you’re just a feather and you do not fucking like it.

You feel him growl behind you, and fuck you if the low vibration does not strike some primal cord in your body, something left over from the time when your ancestors still lived in caves.

He moves so fast you have no chance to take advantage, turning you so that you are laying chest to chest. His erection presses into your hip, and he pins you with those beautiful dark eyes boring down into yours. It takes every iota of self-control you possess not to spread your legs so that he can settle into the cradle of your hips, where you fear he would fit so very well.

He traps your small hands above your head with just one of his, using the other to hold the side of your face, keeping your attention on him. You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t, but you are finding you like it when he touches you like this, like he is your master and you are his pretty little doll to manipulate how he pleases.

Your eyes close, just for a moment, before you force yourself to keep them open. Keep your eye on the danger, a voice in your head tells you.

A less helpful voice suggests that you just give in and let him fuck you silly.

You ignore that one, for now.

“Because,” he grouses with a scowl. “I was afraid you’d meet some handsome dipshit your own age, and…move to fucking Argentina!”

You don’t know where you get the pluck to frown back up at him. This poor, dear, deranged man.

“John…”

Do you know how crazy you sound?

You don't dare say it out loud.

Maybe it would have been smart to try to win points by assuring him you were coming back to him. It was even 100 percent the truth at the time. But something spiteful in you doesn’t want to offer him that declaration now. You feel like he lost his right to it.

That laser-like stare shifts from your eyes to your mouth, a moment before descending to press his lips to yours. His lips are soft, but the kiss is nothing less than possessive. Even so, you have to fight not to let him lull you with his clever mouth and the tantalizing slide of his tongue.

A fresh wave of anger hits you, because you want this. You want him, and he could have had you so easily, without having to…what? Stalk you? Take you?

You realize you don't even know where you are.

All this accumulates in you in the matter of a second, and you express this frustration by clamping his lip between your teeth. It's more a warning, than anything. You do not draw blood, but you bite hard enough to make him pause.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you.” It’s almost funny, the way he sounds talking around his lip in your teeth. Yet somehow, he still manages to sound absolutely menacing.

“Or what?” you challenge. “Are you going to hurt me, John?”

Yes, taunt the man you saw kill four people easy as pouring a bowl of cereal.

“No. But I will punish you. Remember that, as we go forward.”

You let him go, thinking on that.

It makes a chill run down your spine.

He tries to kiss you again, but you turn your face away.

“Please let me up.”

He is silent and still as the mountain, for long enough that you don’t think he will. You imagine he’s weighing his options, and you know as well as he does that he holds all the cards in his oh-so-capable hands. He could finally take you, like this, and you couldn’t stop him. As fucked up as it is…you’re not even sure you wouldn’t enjoy it, and you battle with yourself not to squirm beneath him in this fucked up stew of fear, desire, and anticipation.

That will not help your cause, you know.

He surprises the hell out of you when finally he agrees, “I will, if you promise to be calm.”

“I’m cool as a fucking cucumber.”

He ducks to huff a laugh into the bend of your neck. You feel it stir your hair more than hear it. He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your pulse that makes you flush, a spear of longing jetting through you, and you barely manage not to wrap your legs around his narrow hips.

This man. It’s just not fucking fair.

Then he sucks, hard enough to hurt, and you know there will be a bruise.

He’s fucking marking you.

“I’m serious.”

You breathe in as deeply as you can with his solid, delicious weight piled on you, and let it out slow. “I’m good. Please, let me up.”

Though you can tell he’s reluctant to do it, very slowly he shifts his weight from you, rolling onto his back at your side. You sit up, pushing off the covers, and find the room is spinning slightly.

What the fuck did he drug you with?

You look around. The room is painted in dark shades, the ceiling vaulted high. Bookshelves take up the wall behind the bed. A bank of windows affords a view of the woods beyond. You are up high, the second story, at least.

You recognize these woods, and the feeling of this interior.

“Are we back in fucking Clear Forks?”

“Yes. We’re safe here.”

You blink down at him. He sounds almost reasonable now, and maybe the fact that he let you up makes you think you can reason with him.

“John…you have to let me go.”

“Can't.”

“You have to.”

He just shakes his head.

“So...what? You're going to keep me locked up here forever?”

He licks his lips, pressing them in thought as he choses his next words. “Until... we've reached an understanding. That might take a while.”

You stare down at him, open mouthed.

“John...you can't just keep me here.”

“I can, actually.” He just looks at you with his hands behind his head, resembling for all the world a lazy lion on the plain, deadly but at ease like it's not your entire life he's casually high jacking for his own gratification. Then strangely he looks away, as though he actually is embarrassed about something, letting out a slow breath. “And...I want to.”

“What?”

His gaze returns to yours, his glittering black eyes sharp and as obsidian. “I. Want. You. To stay here with me. I need you.”

God damn if hearing him say those words doesn't make your traitor of a heart go pitter pat pat.

Keeping your eyes on him as though you are in bed with a tiger, you slide off the edge, your legs jelly beneath you. How long have you been out? What did he drug you with? Your mouth is so dry. Maybe you should be grateful he didn’t hit you to knock you out, at least. That’s never so nice and neat as it is in the movies.

You're still wearing your same little pink sundress from Italy, which maybe is a little heartening, not that it provides much protection.

Your heart in your throat, you want to run mad circles around the room yelling, banging on the windows and rattling the doors. Instead you make yourself stay calm as you look around, checking your options, not caring if John is watching.

You don't care, because deep down, you already know it's hopeless. He's not a stupid man. You inspect the door, finding no door handle, no lock that could be picked. There is simply a keypad and what looks like a fingerprint scanner. You notice it is mounted high over your head, so it would be hard for you to access even if somehow you managed to render him unconscious.

You knock on the window with your fist, just for the hell of it.

“Ballistic grade, bullet proof. Good luck.”

He sounds so bored about it, like it's not a big deal that his armored glass stands between you and your freedom. Yet, you doubt the glass was originally for your benefit.

“Bulletproof, in case the Camorra come for you?”

“Them, or others. I’ve made a few enemies over the years.”

You’re not proud that this freaks you out a little.

“And you really think you’re safe here?”

“So far, so good…”

You glare at him over your shoulder, and damn him for looking utterly scrumptious while being such an asshole.

He's wearing a black henley and sweatpants, and he's still the most beautiful man you've ever seen. You could write sonnets about the little strip of pale flesh exposed between his hem and his waistband.

Despite how fit he is, you notice his tummy is just a little soft. It's endlessly endearing, and in different circumstances you would have delighted in pressing your lips to that line of dark hair, and pulling down his sweatpants with your teeth…

You realize you are staring, and with cheeks aflame you avert your gaze. You notice he’s smirking at you, and it makes you mad all over again, your fists clenching at your sides.

He seems to find this amusing as hell.

“You don’t have to look away,” he coaxes, surprisingly gentle. “I like it, that you like my body.”

You huff indignantly, inevitably remembering how adamantly he’d prevented you from undressing him, what feels like a lifetime ago now. “Then why wouldn’t you let me see you?”

“That was…different.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t think you were ready. I didn’t want to scare you.”

You can’t help but raise an eyebrow at that. “Gee, are your guns that big, Mr. Wick?”

This wins you a small laugh, and only belatedly do you realize how sick it is that you’re joking around with him again.

This is not normal. This is not normal. This is not normal.

You have a feeling it’s going to have to become your new mantra.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he says enigmatically. It makes the hairs stand up all over your body, even as your idiotic nether regions clench with desire at the thought.

You have got to get out of here.

“Aren’t they going to think it’s weird I just disappeared without a trace from the hostel?” you pose.

“Probably not. You collected your things, and you paid in full.”

Of course he’d taken care of that.

Then the scope of this coup really dawns on you.

“You clever motherfucker. No one will even look for me here, because they think I'm in Europe for weeks more.”

He lifts an eyebrow at you.

“You have a filthy fucking mouth, my dear. I'd watch that, if I were you.”

You narrow your eyes at him, but don't push your luck just yet.

“But no, no one will be looking for you. Your family and your friends are so busy...”

You close your eyes against his cruel—but perfectly accurate—words. My, how the truth cuts deep.

His tone softens as he tells you, “You don't need them, y/n. You have me. And I promise I'll take care of you.”

You don’t bother to argue again that you don’t need taking care of. You’re beginning to anticipate his answers, and it’s like arguing with a stone wall.

You’ll need a different tack, you think.

Agitated, you stalk to the next door in the room, flinging it open. It’s a walk-in closet, filled with his clothes, and you realize, clothes for you as well. They’re cute, and to your taste, the bright colors an almost comical contrast to his monochromatic wardrobe. But they’re more expensive than anything you can usually afford. They’re all your size.

Your heart sinks to your feet as you realize this means he’s actually been planning this for a while.

The next door is half cracked. You push it all the way open.

To say that it's a bathroom seems like an understatement. All dark marble and black cabinetry, there are two sinks and a long countertop, a walk-in rain shower that could fit 6, and a tub that could be mistaken for a small swimming pool. The corners are accented with lush houseplants, ferns and philodendron. It looks wonderful, and you’re furious all over again, because you can't fucking enjoy it like this.

“Why?” you spit, whirling. Only to start when you find him standing right there behind you. You didn't hear a thing. “Why did you have to do it this way?” With him standing so close, you find your words lose some of their intended venom.

He crowds you against the doorjamb, lifting a hand to your face again.

“Because I was afraid you wouldn't come back to me.”

This tall, powerful man sounds ridiculously vulnerable just then.

But like flipping a switch, he frowns, his long fingers resting lightly around your throat. A chill runs down your spine, and you're sure he can feel your pulse in your neck speeding against his fingers. He doesn’t squeeze, doesn’t hurt you. Just…holds you, and you are ever so aware that you are at his mercy.

“You ran away from me,” he accuses.

Maybe your sense of self-preservation is a little broken.

“I can't imagine why.” You punctuate it with an eyeroll, and suddenly you find yourself pushed into the wall with a hand spread over your chest, the ridges of the jamb biting into your spine. His thumb presses over your lips, preventing you from speaking further.

“That fucking mouth of yours.”

Before you can blink he is on you, pressing his lips to yours in a punishing kiss that leaves you weak in the knees. Maybe you start to slump down the wall, but he wraps you up in his arms, holding you up effortlessly.

“This is how it's going to be,” he pants, his forehead pressed to yours. You get the sense that he is on the verge of losing control, and you are on pins and needles, wanting to know what that would be like, and fearing it too.

You fear it a lot.

“You can run that sassy mouth of yours all you want, but I will enjoy disciplining you for it every time. You might want to start thinking before you speak.”

“You want to hurt me.”

Tears fill your eyes at the thought of it. Maybe you’re a little broken yourself, after seeing him kill people, but this is the thing that really makes you cry. Of course he probably has some kind of fucking red room around here filled with restraints and whips and toys you've never even fucking heard of…

“No, baby. I never want to hurt you.”

You don't believe him in the slightest.

With a big hand on your jaw he turns your face up to look at him. “Please don't cry.”

“Then don't do...whatever the fuck this is! You fucking kidnapped me, John!”

“I took what's mine,” he insists in a dark tone that makes inexplicable heat flood between your legs. “You forced my hand.”

It’s all your fault, of course.

“Did you really think I was just going to follow you after all that?”

He cants his head as he looks down at you, his dark hair swinging into his eyes. Your fingers itch to brush it away, and you hate the way the sight pangs deep in your chest. You shouldn’t feel anything for him, after what he’s done—your heart has not gotten the memo, it seems.

“You asked me not to let you go.”

Motherfucker took that literally, it seems.

The ironic thing is, you’d 300 percent meant what you said, at the time.

“I did not sign up for this,” you insist anyway.

“I’ve tried to warn you…since the moment we met,” he tells you. “But you just kept coming back. And now…I need you, y/n. I love you, and I’m never going to let you go.”

What a ridiculous creature you are, that hearing this moves you to the marrow of your bones, makes you almost sick with a medley of triumph and remorse, desire and fear. You’d so determinedly pried open the lid of this Pandora’s box with the dogged insistence of your affection; look at what a marvelous horror you unleashed. Mr. Wick: your very own monster made of dark need and twisted devotion.

This is all so…crazy.

Yet...he doesn't seem like he's crazy. Just absolutely, unmovingly, resolute in his conviction. And right now, that conviction involves his possession of you.

You close your eyes against his gaze boring a hole through you. Your voice barely lifts above a whisper, your strength suddenly sapped. “I could have loved you.”

It’s a lie, of course.

A lie, because you are already hopelessly, totally in love with this man, despite what he’s done to you, and despite everything you’ve seen him do.

You’ve seen the other side of his coin, you know how sweet and wonderful he can be. Where is that man when you need him? Once upon a time, he absolutely was your safe space, your protector, someone you could turn to when you truly had no one else.

Now, who would protect you, from him?

It breaks your heart, because you fear the answer is that no one can.

“You will love me, y/n,” he insists without a hint of doubt. To be so certain...of anything. He brushes your hair behind your ear with such tenderness you could weep.

A single tear does escape from the corner of your eye. He catches it on the pad of his finger, bringing it to his lips.

“It will be alright, y/n. I've got you.”

That is exactly what you're afraid of.

#john wick #john wick fic #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves x reader #yandere #yandere john wick #john wick fanfiction #bittersweet john wick imagine

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stevieschrodinger · 6 months

Text

Link to part five

Part six

Steve sits in the Beemer squeezing the steering wheel so hard his knuckles are white. He can't make himself let go.

He also can't seem to make himself leave.

His mate is in there. His mate who is carrying their pup. Steve's pup.

He can't leave.

It's a good ten minutes of Steve feeling like the world is collapsing in on him before the door swings open, and Wayne comes out, holding two beers. He opens the door and climbs in, sitting in the passenger seat, handing a beer to Steve, who takes it reflexively. He's pretty sure he doesn't actually want it. But Wayne chinks the necks of the bottles together in toast and says, "congratulations."

Steve starts laughing, it's a bit hysterical and it takes a few minutes before he can make himself stop. He does drink the beer.

"He told you?"

Wayne chuckles, "nah, of course he didn't. Clocked the positive test just sitting in the trash, but that boy hasn't thought more than thirty seconds ahead even one time in his life."

They sit in comfortable silence for a while before Steve admits, "I'm so angry with him."

"Think you've a right to that."

"I'm not leaving him."

"Didn't think you would."

They sit together, ten more minutes of silence between them before Steve admits, "I feel like he's stolen it from me...not the pup," Steve elaborates as Wayne raises an eyebrow at him, "the chance to do this properly. The chance to court him, mate him. Have a nice nest ready, a home together...and then pups. I still want it he's just...taken away my chance to do it all properly, I guess."

Wayne hums agreeably.

Steve sighs, "I should go in."

"Reckon." Wayne agrees stoically.

Steve had bought Eddie a spinning wool thing with a handle as a courting gift. Eddie had been so happy with it, something he wanted to organise all his balls of wool into...more square balls. Steve didn't understand it, but Eddie had been so happy he'd spent an hour playing with it and organising his small yarn collection while Steve watched, puffed up and proud his Omega was happy.

Eddie had smelled so much better since his heat, so much more like home and mate...and Steve just figured it was because Eddie was doing better.

Now he knows the real reason he's scenting so appealing; the pup.

Eddie hides deeper in his nest. Whatever that thing was that he lost when his Omega went to ground, well, it's been back since his heat. It's been back ten fold. Eddie had never nested in his life, now? Now if Hawkins held some sort of nesting championships, Eddie would have won it three times this week.

He knew, knew for certain before he bothered to piss on a stick that he'd caught. He knew it was early to show, but his usually almost concave stomach was...not that anymore. He was eating more, some instinct driving him. He was tidying the trailer; sorting things he'd never bothered or cared about before.

So he'd known. Known before those pink lines had appeared on the test.

And Steve. Steve who is courting the hell out of him. Steve who nuzzles him and scents him and brings him home made cookies and pasta and meatballs. Steve who buys him things and holds him close and, even though they haven't done anything more than kiss a little since Eddie's heat, is happy to run gentle hands across Eddie when they nap.

Steve who had innocently investigated that oh so subtle curve to Eddie's stomach. Steve who didn't even question that there was something there until he caught what must have been a horrified, guilty look on Eddie's face. Eddie who had stammered out an apology, like an idiot.

He should have just told him.

He should have come clean, right at the beginning. But Eddie was harbouring a guilty fantasy where he gets to keep his pup and Steve, and he wasn't quite ready to loose it just yet.

He hears the trailer door from where he's buried in his nest. He hears his bedroom door and opens his mouth to tell Wayne to go away, but it's Steve who speaks, "we will be talking about this in the morning."

And then the mattress dips, the blankets shift, and Eddie is pulled into Steve's arms, Steve's hand resting delicately over Eddie's belly button.

#eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington #steddie #ficlet #omegaverse #mpreg

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whiskeynwriting · 11 months

Text

Recovery

Simon “Ghost” Riley x OFC “Bones”

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Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

Trauma, physical therapy, some reader descriptions (strong/muscles), dirty talk, size kink, grinding/dry humping, mentions of male masturbation, spanking, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, mentions of smoking, tattoos.

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A/N: Hope y’all aren’t getting sick of Ghost x Bones because they’re not leaving anytime soon lol. Also this gif has my HEART, baby has some makeup in his eye lol

ALSO also, thank you to @thesleepingmusicneek for honestly just being an amazing fucking friend but for helping me SO much with my writing 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

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Simon “Ghost” Riley Masterlist

Join My Taglist!

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Nothing but scribbles stumble across the page, now disfigured with angry wrinkles. And the writer, no more frustrated than he is stubborn, sitting with the pencil’s tip just at the paper’s edge. What’s worse than watching him struggle, is knowing there’s little to nothing you can do about it. This journey is up to him; his progress, his growth, his recovery, it’s all in his hands.

“This is bullocks.” Finally, he tosses the pencil down with an aggressive huff. “Never even was a lefty.”

“That’s not the point.”

Looking away with a frown, he mumbles, “I know.”

Simon’s physical therapist tries his best, he really does, but his patient is stubborn, and these injuries are unforgiving. Having you here is the main thing that keeps Simon going, out of both pride and general encouragement. In the therapist’s eyes, your open sass doesn’t help. But hey, it’s how the two of you bond.

“Try it this way, Ghost.” He then offers, speaking into the growing silence.

“I’ve already tried it that way. Fuckin’ hurts!” His left hand wasn’t ever his strongest or most favored out of the two, but practicing his writing skills is a step in the right direction in regard to his healing.

Sometimes, this was embarrassing for him, having you watch him struggle. But even through the bad days, and the really bad days, he insisted that you come. Your support meant more to him than anything, and you were glad to tag along. He found great offense in the mere offer of you leaving, which was suggested many times by his therapist. They claimed he’d focus better without you there. A fucking distraction.

“She’s my doctor,” He’d state firmly, eyes burning holes into his PT. “Not you.”

And this was true. Price had allowed you to be Simon’s main physician, figuring there really wasn’t anyone better. You had both personal and professional reason to be here. So, Simon’s physical therapist can suck it.

“Perhaps if we had some privacy, maybe -”

“This again?!” Ghost shouts, and you try your best to hide your chuckle. He should’ve known better than to bring this up now, when Simon is most frustrated. “Bloody fuckin’ hell, how many times do I have to tell you?!”

“Hey,” Laying a hand on his forearm, you request gently, “Take a breath.”

Regardless of his deep inhale, Simon’s dark eyes continue to glare at the physician. Though, as irritated as he may seem now, Ghost truly has come a long way. He’s gotten a lot of feeling back in his feet and legs, and can even wiggle his toes and feel pain. On this area of his body, the therapist has moved onto moving his entire foot.

“Why don’t we try the lower extremities?”

“‘S difficult, too.” Glancing away, Simon focuses on the view past the windowpane. It’s a sunny day, soon to rain but nice enough now.

The soft rub of your thumb on his forearm is what pulls him back, nodding with a sigh. “Alright, fine.”

Redirecting his focus to his feet, Simon concentrates, determined to do… something. He’s been instructed to wiggle his toes, which he does successfully. And the gentle squeeze you give him offers the slightest bit of encouragement.

“Alright, now let’s try your ankle. Start with the right one.”

“Rotate it fully?” Scoffing, he raises a brow.

His therapist shrugs. “Any movement at all.”

Narrowing his eyes, Simon zones in on his right foot, doing anything he can to make it move. A twitch, a wiggle, anything. But by his quick yet shallow breaths, his small grunts, you can tell he’s becoming agitated again.

“Be patient with your body.”

“My body can do so much more than this.” He spits out in return.

“Yeah?” You return, not one to take his sass. “Then show me.”

There was nothing more motivating than your snarky remarks, always ready to challenge the man you love. And wouldn't you know it, a small shudder runs through his ankle. The way Simon’s head immediately snaps up toward you makes you grin, his eyes wide with little crinkles on the side, evidence of his eager smile. It's like he himself was surprised by it, and to say you’re proud of him would be an understatement.

“Way to go, big boy.” With the widest grin, you congratulate him. “You’re making progress.”

And even though he doesn’t respond, he keeps his smile. He’s proud of himself, too.

Subtle glances, small brushes or touches, cheeky grins and flirtatious laughs, that’s what accounts for your interactions. And while your exchanges have been sweet, they’ve also been dulled, in a way. The fire doesn’t seem to be there anymore. Your love still grows, is still everlasting, but the desire you had for one another, it’s faded.

Or at least, it seems that way.

The first few months of Simon’s recovery were the most difficult. Getting him stable was more important than anything, and you were by his side through it all. You weren’t thinking sexually, those thoughts weren’t anywhere near your headspace, not when you were so worried. But the more Simon healed, the more touchy he should be, right? It makes sense in your head. Going so long without so much as kissing or even hugging you, you’d assumed he’d want to put his hands on you as soon as he got the chance.

The injuries on Ghost’s face and head have healed, externally, at least. So, he’s been lifting his mask more around you, but only to the tip of his nose. And you wonder if he regrets showing himself to you. But even with that thought lingering heavily in your head, you also wonder, why hasn’t he kissed me yet? Why hasn’t he initiated anything? A small hug? A peck on the lips? Anything? Honestly, it feels like you’re losing him all over again.

Simon has shown his love for you through his actions and words. The two of you don’t often say it, but it comes up every now and then. His physical intentions, though, those were much more prominent. They came in the form of voicing his requests for you to stay, whether it be at his therapy sessions or just throughout the day. He wasn’t shy about that. Occasionally, he’d compliment you, call you smart and sweet, call you his doctor, his girl. But nothing more, nothing even remotely sexual. And it’s strange because Simon used to be so sexual. Even when he couldn't do much with you, couldn't he have said something to express his physical interest?

On the other end, Ghost’s worrying about this topic just as much as you. While you’ve been waiting for him to make a move, he’s been waiting on you. His body has always been scarred, mutilated with cuts that ran deep and marred with burns over his flesh. But he wasn’t insecure about any of that, not until these recent injuries. He knows he looks different, especially on his left arm and legs, even his face a little bit. Simon hasn’t felt truly insecure in decades, but that rotten feeling has now been clawing at the insides of his chest, breaking free and wreaking havoc on his mind.

Simon wanted to give you space, give you the option of turning away. He wouldn’t blame you, this wasn’t exactly part of the package. Besides, you can’t help it if you’re not attracted to him anymore because of these injuries. He’d understand it. It’d crush his entire being, but he’d understand.

And so, he waits, wondering if the day will come where you’ll make a move, where you’ll show him that you’re still attracted to him. But he refuses to bring it up to you, he doesn’t want to push.

“‘M sorry,” Simon grumbles quietly, somberly.

“You don’t have to be.” His regret is obvious, and you appreciate the gesture of him apologizing. But you’re used to his attitude during those sessions, and you honestly don’t blame him one bit. You can’t imagine how frustrating this situation would be if it were you personally.

Moving about the room, you clean up your station, sorting notes into files and wiping down the desk. And Simon watches you with thoughtful eyes, hoping for a chance to reconnect. You’re the most precious and special thing he’s ever had the pleasure of possessing. But not possess in a way of dominance, possess in a way like his own soul possesses his body. Natural, connected, at peace.

“How was your day?” He asks, voice low and muddled by the rain tapping against the windowpane.

Without turning, you respond with, “Normal. Nothing too crazy.”

“What was your favorite part?” Simon pries gently, not wanting the conversation to end.

Now, you do turn. Leaning back against the edge of your desk, you grin. “Spending it with you.”

And it’s true. Regardless of the worries slowly but surely consuming you, it was nice to be with him.

Swallowing, his pulse becomes thunderous in his ears, heart beating against his chest. He wants you, wants to feel you next to him. So, with great hesitancy, he requests, “C’mere.”

Excitement shoots through your limbs as you all too quickly prance over to him, ecstatic that he’s even asked. And your eagerness makes him smirk beneath the mask. Sitting yourself down on one of those round, swiveling chairs, you rest beside his left arm. Out of curiosity, you look down, eyeing his decorated forearm. His tattoos no longer look the same, some of them having changed with the healing of his stitches.

“Bunch of bullshit.” Ghost murmurs, glancing down, too. “Paid good money for those.”

Laughing, you give your head a single shake. “They still look hot as hell.”

Eyes widening, he speaks before he can stop himself. “Really?”

With you being so close to him again, and now complimenting him, he feels like he’s soaring.

“Fuck yeah.” You respond, as if it were obvious. To you, it is.

Impulsively, you lay a hand over his forearm, fingers brushing the black and white ink. And for a split second, it feels electric on his skin. But you’re quick to flinch away, wide eyes staring up at him. “I’m so sorry, did that hurt?”

But all he does is shrug. “Not at all. Stitches are healed, love.”

Love. You swoon.

“So, I can touch you?” It obviously isn’t meant to come off dirty, but Ghost’s brain registers it as that, anyway.

“Of course you can.” He nearly blurts out, his tone hopeful and welcoming. And immediately, you’re wrapping both hands around his sleeve. The small hum he exudes prompts you to glance up, grinning at the sight. Ghost has closed his eyes, chest releasing a relaxing breath.

“Feels nice.”

“Just this?” Humored doubt laces your tone.

“Feels like ages since you’ve touched me.”

His words twist the thoughts collecting in your head into something new. Has he… he’s wanted me to touch him?

“I know…” The way you say it expresses your sadness, your regret. “Just need you to heal, ya know?”

Because of what he’s now said, you feel the need to explain yourself, explain why you haven’t fulfilled his expectations. Throughout this entire healing process, you focused mostly on his physical health. You never once thought to tend to his emotional wellbeing. It’s a failure, on your end.

“Does it,” Inhaling a motivating breath, he finishes with, “Does it bother you?”

“What?”

Lifting his arm slightly, he gestures to himself. “These stitches, the injuries.”

Twisting your face in confusion, you lean back a bit. “Um… no? Why would they?”

“Just… missed your touch, is all.” He’s mumbling, quiet and very obviously insecure. “Missed you.”

“Baby… I’m so sorry.” All at once, regret hits you like a truck. He’s been suffering, and you’ve done nothing. “I’m sorry I haven’t done more for you.”

“You’ve done everything you needed to.”

“No, I haven’t. How could I let you feel this way?”

An abrupt knock on the door dissipates your conversation into seemingly nothing. Instantly, you pull your hands away from him, turning in your chair to greet whoever’s about to approach. And to your delight, it’s Johnny.

“Hey Lt.” He grins, walking in and giving you a nod. “Lovely Bones.”

There’s that flirtatious nature again. As always, Ghost knew it meant nothing, not really. But now that he feels like you’re falling through his fingers, he wants to tighten his grasp now more than ever, wants to pull you back into his chest and never let you go, whisper all the sweet things he’s been dying to tell you. Especially when another man compliments you.

“How’ve ya been?” Striding forward, Johnny takes a seat opposite of Ghost’s bed. Spreading his legs and leaning in on his knees, he flashes that cheeky smile, giving Simon his full attention.

“I’ve been fine, Johnny. Nothing new.” Simon answers simply, almost in a kind of brain fog. Switching conversations so quickly is difficult for him, still trying to regain his focus from the incident.

“See your scars are healin’ up nicely.” Pointing to his forearm, he nods. “That’s good to see.”

“Yeah, messed up my bloody ink, though.”

“Ah,” Soap waves a hand, “Looks better that way.”

The team visited Simon fairly frequently. And since you’re by his side for ninety-five percent of the day, you get to see the guys every time they come by. Oftentimes, they’d bring him little treats, a snack from the cafeteria or his favorite energy drink. And while Ghost knew they had the best intentions, their pity disgusted him. Sometimes he wished they would just leave him alone. Especially now, considering the two of you were in the middle of a rather important discussion.

“Oh!” Johnny then says, startling you. Reaching into his back pocket, he retrieves a small package. Tossing it Simon’s way, Soap says, “Know you like these.”

Catching it easily, Simon reads the wrapping. A Snickers, he can’t remember the last time he had one of these. And that was mainly due to his brain injury.

“Thanks, Johnny.”

“I know all this can’t be easy, Si. I’m for you, ya know.”

“Yeah, I know.” Ghost sighs, staring down at the candy bar. Johnny rarely called him Si, and it tugs at his heartstrings.

Soap can feel something is off in the room, the energy is just weird. He’s been wanting to ask about your relationship, but hasn’t had the balls to. He doesn’t want to make either of you uncomfortable and hasn’t had the chance to be alone with Simon or you.

“Well, I’ll let you lovebirds be.” Smiling cheekily, he stands. “I’ll visit again soon, yeah, Lt.?”

“‘Course, Johnny.”

Before Johnny leaves, he offers you a hug, strong arms embracing you fully. And you rest against him, leaning into his sturdy frame. He’s been a great part of your support system since all of this happened; Simon’s injuries have only brought you and Johnny closer together.

“It’ll be alright, yeah, sweetheart?” He sighs quietly against your head. Nodding, you take in a steadying breath.

“Yeah, it’ll be alright.”

Another knock, another groan from your end. “Come in.”

Opening the door is the other half of the medical team assigned to Ghost, making their way in so they can clean. Their tasks were to change the sheets, wash Simon and his clothes, wipe down surfaces and mop the floor, the list goes on. And while you were more than happy to do these things, Simon wouldn't allow it. Ghost’s recovery prompted new boundaries to arise in your relationship, lines that he was firm on setting. The first regarding this exact circumstance; you already cared for him medically and he refused for you to do anymore, he didn’t want you to be his full time caregiver. He would never want to burden you with that, and he knows it would cause nothing but strife in your relationship. Besides, the mere thought of you changing his bedpan and regularly washing his sheets was humiliating. So, whenever it was time for those types of tasks, you left, fulfilling other duties.

But why did they have to come now?

“I’ll, um…” Turning back to Simon, you see he’s already looking toward you with a pleading gaze. Stay.

All you want to do is stay.

But at the same time, Simon doesn’t want you to see him this way.

“I’ll… see you later, Si.”

Swallowing, Simon’s rough voice then appears. “Babe,”

Immediately, your eyes widen, if only ever so slightly. For him to call you that in the presence of others speaks volumes. Sure, Price had you sign those HR papers about workplace relationships, but you hadn’t exactly made it known to others after that. The two of you favored your privacy. But right now, that simple word is speaking louder than anything else he could’ve said.

“C’mere for a sec.” Grunting, he does his best to reach out to you, using his left arm. And as soon as he does it, Johnny is letting you go, wanting you to meet Simon’s gentle plea.

Leaving the sergeant’s arms, you do just that, stepping over to Simon’s bedside. Placing both of your hands in his left, you grin, looking into those deep, warm eyes of his.

“You’ll come back, yeah?” Ghost asks quietly, your team beginning to work around him.

“Of course, I will.”

“Eh, won’t be long.” Johnny chimes in, “She can come hangout with me and the boys, get a game of pool in.”

“Sounds lovely.” You return with a murmur, eyes not leaving Simon’s. “I’ll be back later, baby.” And that, coupled with the kiss you give his palm, is shocking to your team. Though it sends waves of butterflies through Simon’s stomach.

These public displays of affection are entirely foreign to your relationship, but you’re both basking in the sweetness of it. And maybe this is the perfect time for you to explore it, for you to outwardly show your love and attraction for him just when he needs it most.

On your way out, Johnny doesn’t mention the way every single person’s eyes widen in the room when your affectionate nicknames are exchanged, or the way a few heads turn. He chooses to stay silent, smiling to himself while leading you out of the room.

Returning to a sleeping Simon is bittersweet. You’re glad he’s resting, but you’d do anything to finish your earlier conversation. But it’s late, and you figure at this point, you’ll have to wait until morning.

The rainfall makes you tired, too, yawning as you walk further in. It was only three days into Simon’s recovery that you started sleeping in his room, bringing a small, foldable cot for you to curl up on. His bed wasn’t big enough for the two of you, and besides, you’re pretty sure Price would light a fire up both your asses if he caught you snoozing next to him.

As quietly as you can, you unfold your small bed and bring it to the side of his. It sits lower, but Simon often made up for that by dropping his arm, letting you hold onto his hand throughout the night. But with him asleep, you don’t think you’ll get that luxury tonight. Nevertheless, you curl up in your blanket, resting only in your underclothes as you doze off beside him.

“Miss you.”

That rumbling voice almost scares you in the near silence, your body jolting ever so slightly. When did he wake up? Still, those two simple words make your insides burn bright.

Lips curling happily, you mutter, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Quietly, you then ask, “Want me to come up there?” It’s happened once or twice before, but only for some cuddles. Simon’s grown quite accustomed to your touch.

With a heavy sigh, he gives in. “You know I do.”

Absolutely thrilled with his request, you pop right up, situating yourself on the right side of his bed. Simon likes it best when you curl up on this side, allowing him to wrap his good arm around you. Cuddling into him, you revel in the closeness - you haven’t done this in weeks. He’s resting on his back, the same position he always sleeps in. And with you by his side, he turns his head in your direction, releasing a contented breath.

“Hey, gorgeous.” He says to you sweetly, fondly, covered lips pressing to the top of your head.

“Hm…” Sighing happily, you twine your legs between his much bulkier appendages, draping an arm across his abdomen. You’re so happy he still wants this, wants you and this relationship.

“Cozy?” He chuckles, eyes closed as he grins.

“Mhm,” Snuggling further into him, he can feel your smile press against his bare skin. Ghost usually slept nearly naked, only black boxers hugging his body. And you liked it best this way, for multiple reasons. One being that you’re able to see more of his tattoos. He has some on his chest, one reaching up to his collarbones and neck. And you just love them, found them incredibly interesting and undeniably sexy.

“Love this…” Tracing a particularly larger tat, your smile becomes brighter than ever. “Love the way you feel.”

“Yeah? Even when I’m like this?” His tone expresses the dry humor he’s far too familiar with, the same dry humor that covers up his emotions.

“Big teddy bear.” And that makes him fully laugh. “Strong.”

“Don’t feel too strong.”

Simon was never one to be insecure of his body, of the multitude of scars on it. Cuts that dug deep, burns that marred his skin, none of it bothered him, not even when he showed himself to you like this. What did bother him, though, was the fact that he looked weak. He couldn't stand it, and to say his ego was taking a hit would be an understatement.

“Baby,” With a heavy breath, you shake your head lightly beneath him. “You’re so fucking hard on yourself.”

All he does is grunt in response, becoming quite pensive. Though, he tries not to be. Getting lost in his thoughts wasn’t something Simon liked doing. Lucky for him, your hand serves as a distraction. Running your palm down his torso, you take this opportunity to feel the muscles along his stomach and ribs, the v-line leading down to his pelvis. And it makes him shiver with anticipation.

You’re not sure how to start this conversation again, mainly because of how distracted you’ve become. Feeling Simon’s naked body always made you feel excited inside, always made you feel eager and lustful. But you want to care for him emotionally, too.

“I hope you know how much I still love you.” Continuing to lower your hand, you suddenly feel Simon’s chest dip, releasing a heated breath. “How much I love your body…”

“Hm…” The further you get, the more interested he becomes. The fact that you still find him appealing, even like this, it’s repairing his ego bit by bit. Truthfully, it’s everything he’s needed. “Miss you touchin’ me…”

“Do you miss this, too?” Lightly, ever so lightly, you cup him over his clothes. And the gentle stimulation is more than enough to arouse him.

The intimacy you share with Simon is addicting, and the withdrawal has been a bitch. But just like that, as soon as you get the tiniest taste, you’re hooked all over again.

“Fuck, yes.” Groaning in frustration, he forces out a breath. And fuck you’ve missed that, hearing the eager roughness to his tone. “Been so long since I’ve had you.”

Feeling your hand on his crotch like that, it lights a fire inside him. All over again, he wants you, wants to throw you down on this bed and take you. Shove himself inside until you’re fluttering, spurting with cum before he releases his own. Hold you down and make you take it, for however long he likes. Rub his face over your chest, down the valley between your breasts, sucking on their soft flesh. Haul your leg up over his waist and grab a fistful of your ass, spanking it until the pain turns into something irresistibly sweet.

But he can’t. He physically can’t.

The arm holding you tightens against your body, against your own strong muscles. Irritation courses through his veins, knowing he can’t do much but god damn if he won’t try to do what he can. Turning his head, he ducks down, pressing his covered lips to your own with a forceful breath. Easily, wholeheartedly, you embrace him, hand lifting to cup his jaw. Your mouth presses to the shape of his lips, the covered kiss far too teasing for the current moment.

“Baby, can we? Please?” Sliding down ever so slightly, your fingertips graze the edge of his mask, wanting desperately to see him; any part of him.

“I… I want to, B.” The hesitancy in his voice is worrying. “But it just… it won’t be the same.”

Even through the mask, you can feel his breath, experiencing the humid touch of it against your face.

“I don’t care how it is, I just want it. I want you, Simon. I’ve missed you so fucking much.” Impatiently, you tug on his mask, leaning up against to press your mouth to his skull covering. It’s needy, it’s wanting, so openly throwing yourself at him he honestly can’t believe it. He hasn’t seen you like this in far too long, and he’d be an idiot to let this opportunity go, especially when it’s all he’s fucking thought about.

The way your tongue slides out, pressing against the white and black fabric, it makes him growl with passion. Quickly, yet shakily, his left hand rises, flipping the edge of his mask up before grabbing onto your jaw. Squishing your cheeks a bit he brings you in, bare lips crashing into your own. Open mouths press together, wet and warm and familiar. And those thick fingers dig into the fabric along your hip, wishing it were bare skin.

“Baby,” With your fingernails scraping down his chest, you have to stop yourself from digging in too deeply. But it’s difficult when he’s kissing you like this, when he’s shoving his tongue inside your mouth so he can map it out all over again. “How could you ever think I’m not attracted to you?”

The air leaving your chest is instantly sucked back in, your chest rising and falling as you feel Simon’s hand glide down your waist. He’s bringing you in even closer, pressing your body to his, feeling your warmth.

“Don’t you know how fucking sexy you are, Simon?”

“Get up here,” That gruff voice suddenly demands, “On my lap, B.”

He doesn’t have to ask you twice, your eager movements are evidence of that. Slipping your shorts and panties down your legs, you leave them on the cot as you slide easily on top of him. Your thighs encase his hips as you make yourself comfortable on him, center lowered right onto his. And your lips don’t even leave, he wouldn’t allow it.

“That’s so good…” Both of Simon’s hands now fall to your hips, holding onto you firmly.

The way his teeth nip at your lips makes you sigh, little whines spilling from your mouth when they turn into bites. And all at once, his hands are roaming your body, sliding up beneath your shirt to feel your bare stomach, the skin of your hips and sides. The way you’re embracing each other is so lustful, so impassioned and fervent. It’s like it’s the first time all over again.

“You’re fucking perfect, you know that?” His words make you laugh, but he’s insistent. “Every goddamn day, whether you’re working or not, even on that bloody mission, you’re stunning, B.”

“Simon,” You begin to protest, but he continues, mouthing at your lips as he bursts with praise for you.

“Such a pretty girl for me,” Your lover says, hips beginning to grind up against you. “Always so pretty…”

“Ugh, I fucking missed you. I need you, Si. I need this.” Holding his face with both hands, you lean in, resting your forehead over his own as you begin to meet his gentle thrusts. “I don’t give a shit how many scars you have, how many injuries I have to see through. I’m here, Simon. I’m here and I’m not fucking leaving you.”

“I love you.” He suddenly blurts out, as if he’d been dying to say it this entire time. “I can’t lose you, B. Never opened myself up to anyone but you.”

“I know, baby. I know… and I love everything you’ve given me. Everything you are.”

“Not everything.” Giving his head a quick shake, hands guiding the sway of your hips over him.

“Everything.”

Your correction prompts Simon’s direct eye contact, a small pause in this heated moment. Flickering between your irises, Ghost’s own pupils widen, filled with something akin to adoration, something made of lust and absolute devotion.

“Simon,” Whining quietly, you resume your subtle shifts over his lap, his own hips easily resuming their pace, too. “Please, I need you again, baby.”

“I, I just… it won’t be the same, Bones.” But he’s still kissing you, still grinding up against your sensitive core and breathing the air puffing past your lips. And you can feel him, having fully hardened and sitting firm between your legs.

“I don’t fucking care, Simon. If you want this, tell me. And I’ll make it happen.”

“Yeah? And what’ll you do?” He asks, grinning while lifting his good hand to the back of your head.

“Ride you,” Panting, you grind yourself over the thickness of the erection rising steadily in his briefs. “Just like I used to.”

Betraying his rotten inner emotions, the ones that had convinced him you no longer saw him with the same desire in your eyes, a smirk forms on those smooth lips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Devouring him, your tongue slides into his mouth, swallowing his moan while dragging the wet muscle over his own. But he quickly takes the lead, using the hand on your head to move you how he likes. He takes great pleasure in this, in having some semblance of control while you’re like this.

“Fuck, do it.” He finally decides, his entire body shuddering with desire. “Fucking do it.”

Instantly, you’re dropping one hand from his face and reaching for his boxers. You find him easily, pulling aside the fabric and watching as he practically jumps into your hand.

“Christ,” Red and leaking, throbbing, Simon’s cock weighs heavy in your hand.

“Excited?” Grinning wildly, you lean in, running the tip of your nose over his cheek.

“Very.” Evidenced by the liquid warmth drooling from his cockhead, he’s correct.

Running your thumb over his slit, you take great pride in watching him twitch. “Don - Don’t tease. Just put it in.”

It’s too damn easy for you to listen to him, to follow his every command. Lifting yourself, your eyes fall to the sight you’ve so dearly missed. And with both of you watching, you line him up with your entrance, licking your lower lip with anticipation.

“C’mon, come down now…” His hands are pulling on your hips, becoming impatient. “Put the tip of my cock against that pretty little hole.”

Fuck, you missed this, the way he talked to you during times like this. He was always so good with it.

“Mm…” Slowly, you sink down, inch by thick inch. The whine that slips past your lips is shrill, feeling his head spread you open. But Simon is quick to hush you, bringing you in for a bruising kiss.

“You can do it, just like before.” He says to you through sweet, wet kisses.

“Simon…”

“Just like that, just like that, princess.” His hands continue to urge you on, pulling you down onto him. “What happened, huh? Get a little tighter without me around?”

“F-Fuck,” Dropping your head onto his shoulder boosts his confidence incredibly; your submissive side is coming out again, and it’s making him feel dominant.

“Oh, just look at the way it stretches for me, Christ…” Feeling your velvety inside envelope his tip, it’s almost too much for him. “Such a good pussy.”

“Baby…” Turning your head, you press a flurry of fervent kisses to his mask. “I’ve needed you for so long, you don’t know how bad I’ve missed this.”

“I know, trust me.” Releasing a dry laugh, Simon’s eyes raise with awareness.

Clinging to his shoulders, you gasp when he finally bottoms out inside you, sitting entirely over his pelvis. And with your ass flush against his lap, he throbs violently against your walls, every thick vein pulsing beneath your core’s hot squeeze.

“Sweetheart,” Taking in a lungful of air, he says, “You know how many times I’ve thought about this? Thought about fuckin’ you again? Thought about this sweet ass on my lap, about the way this pretty pussy grips me…”

“Tell me,” Clinging to his shoulders, your nails dig into him once again, lips pressing to his neck. “Please tell me.”

Wrapping his right arm around your back, he pulls you flush against his chest. The sudden movement knocks you away from his neck, with Simon’s lips returning to yours all over again. The embrace is sweet and smooth, his talented lips captivating your attention.

“Whenever you weren’t here… I took every goddamn opportunity. Fucked my fist to the thought of you, B. But, ngh…” Feeling you wiggle over his lap, he grunts. “It’s never the same. Not even bloody close.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Using those broad shoulders as leverage, you lift yourself, setting a steady pace over him.

“Christ,” Head lolling back, his eyes follow. “Didn’t, fuck… didn’t want to pressure you.”

“I like when you do that to me. Make me feel small, and needed.”

The stride you continue with over Simon’s lap is baffling to him, riddling his body with overstimulation. Every time you meet his pelvis, you grind down onto him, onto the grown-out hairs surrounding his base.

“You’re always needed.” He whispers to you, kissing your cheek as it rests beside him. “Fucking hell, princess, I can feel you dripping down my shaft.”

The sound your wetness creates resonates throughout the room, prompting a bashfulness to rise hotly in your cheeks. Dropping your forehead to his shoulder, you moan openly into his ear, feeling both of those broad hands lower to your cheeks. Summoning every ounce of strength he has, he bounces you down onto his lap, punching himself into your depths. And every thrust he gives shoves him even deeper inside, his tip nudging your most sensitive skin.

“No,” He then seethes, moving his head in your direction. “Don’t hide yourself from me, not now. Not when I finally have you again.”

But when he turns his head to the side, his mask shifts, a bout of frustration rising within him. “Fucking, ngh.”

It’s a quick decision, one he makes out of genuine love for you.

Reaching up, Simon tears his mask from his head, tossing it to the floor and grabbing your face again. Before you can get a good look at him, his mouth is on you, the hand he used on his mask now pawing at your breasts.

“Take it off, love. Take this off for me.”

But you’re still processing the fact that he just took off his mask, and you want to see him. He doesn’t let you, though, he’s too busy tugging at the ends of your shirt. So, you oblige him, leaning back to lift it from your torso. Just as it leaves your head, Simon is lifting his chin up to your chest, mouth enveloping your left nipple.

“Baby, let me,” Hands holding his head, your own tips back, mouth falling agape with a graceful moan.

Ghost’s mouth sucks on you fervently, tongue flicking over the delicate peak before biting at it ever so gently.

“Please let me see you.”

Insecurity overtakes him then, now that you’ve fully asked. And you can tell - he practically curls in on himself.

“You don’t want me to?” And with that gentle inquiry, he’s taking in a steadying breath, eyes beginning to lift.

From beneath his brow, those dark eyes lift to yours, chin following soon after. And for the first time since this horrid incident, you’re seeing him, fully seeing him.

“No,” Giving his head a light shake, he stares into your dazzling orbs. “Don’t stop, babe. Please, don’t.”

And you want to listen, want to give him what he wants but it’s hard when you’re witnessing the beauty of Simon’s face. The scars, the cuts and curves, his nose and jawline, all of his features coming together as one, once again. The memory of his face was once a painful thought, but now… it can be replaced.

“It’s so nice to see you again, baby.”

The strength of his arms and hands continues your movement, pushing you forward onto his chest. Here, he nuzzles into you, arms securing themselves around your midsection. Simon’s nose rubs against your neck, committing your scent, your feel, to memory.

“Only for you.” He murmurs, placing a tender kiss. “Can’t lose you.”

“You won’t.”

“You’re everything I need.” Grinding up into your center, he forces a gasp from your chest, spreading your cheeks until slight pain begins to bloom. “Christ, I’m not going to last long like this, not with these gorgeous fucking tits pressed against me like this.”

“Baby, we need this more… can we please? Please?”

“Every chance we get.” Nipping at your ear, the low groan he exudes sends a shiver right through you.

The pleasurable waves flowing through your hips are nothing compared to the sharp jolts of ecstasy every thrust of his hips gives. At times, you think about how foolish he is to think that his strength has left him, what with the way his muscles bend and ripple with every firm grab, every harsh slap he now delivers.

“Look at me.” Ghost demands in that deep, rough tone. “Look at me, and listen well.”

Lifting your head, you do just that, memorizing every feature of his face. Subconsciously, your hand lifts, cupping his clean jawline with your thumb stroking his cheek.

“You’re mine, understand? Mine to fucking keep. And there’ll be no more misunderstandings between us.”

“No more,” Shaking your head, you hold his gaze, lips parting from his continued movements. “F-Fuck.”

“You gonna cum for me, huh? Just like you used to? Back when you first cared for me, back when we’d smoke in the Jeep…”

“Yes,” You don’t want to look away from him, but your head drops regardless. The pleasure flowing through your thighs turns every muscle you have to jelly, the wetness growing beneath you evidence of this. “I miss it.”

“Then give it to me, before I give mine to you.”

The way he phrases it has you falling apart in his arms, still strong enough to keep you together on his chest. His body, thick and bulky, holds you tightly against him, feeling your limbs quiver above him. His fingers continue to dig into the softness of your cheeks before landing another harsh smack, listening to your shrill cry while you shake on his lap. It’s all-consuming, blinding, the euphoria bursting inside your body.

“Goddamn,” Simon huffs out, his voice tense and strained.

The grip he has on you turns bruising, his body curling around you as he releases. And his teeth bite into your shoulder as he does, the muscles in his abdomen flinching with every milky rope that leaves him.

You can feel it, the evidence of his pleasure washing your insides white. The way he throbs against your walls, swollen and pulsing, his entire body releasing. Every ounce of worry and stress, any bit of anxiety, it’s flushed away with the help of your reassurance, of your devotion and unwavering passion.

Fully wrapping your arms around his neck, you rest flush against him, mouth pressing to his stubbled cheek over and over again. And the next sound to delight your ears is Simon’s laugh.

“Mm…” His groan sounds… content, relaxed. “You make me happy, B. Happier than I’ve been in… a long time.”

“Happier than you’ve ever been,” You correct him cheekily, shuddering slightly as you come down from the pleasure he so wonderfully brings. “You can say it, baby.”

Rolling his eyes, he gives your backside a light tap. “Don’t get cocky with it, now.”

“Simon,” Inhaling a deep breath, you allow yourself to be fully vulnerable with him. “I don’t ever want to be that far from you again.”

And he knows what you mean. Ghost was never known as an emotional man, and likely never will be. But with you, it’s a different story.

“You won’t be.” He reassures you quietly, calmly. “We’re here, everything’s just like it should be.”

“Mhm,” Nodding, you keep your arms around him, not wanting to let go.

“It’s just you and me, B.”

#Simon Riley #I love you baby #you're everything I need #Simon “Ghost” Riley #Simon Riley x you #Simon Riley x reader #Simon Riley x female reader #Simon Riley smut #Simon Riley fluff #so many fluffies #Call of Duty #cod #cod mw2 #Call of Duty fanfiction

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stuffeddeer · 6 months

Note

hiii! how about ~any bsd characters of your choice~ when they make you cry for the first time during an argument? (maybe they say something mean, weaponize your insecurities, tell you to shut up (yeah, i'm sensitive to this heh), won't listen to you, etc)

yayyy any of my choice!!! that means my faves dazai and nikolai <3 love u anon

cw: intimacy ? "fuck" is used multiple times, u call urself an escort

A soft breath left your lips as you stared at your ceiling. Without even looking at the clock, you were sure it read some time past 12. You had quite a late night, even just the thought causing you to feel tired again. Closing your eyes tightly, you buried your face into your pillow, turning over in bed to do so.

The movement is followed by a deep chuckle from beside you, causing your eyes to snap open in surprise for a moment. There he is: the man who kept you up.

"Oh, you're still here." You spoke before thinking, the words coming out of your mouth as merely an observation.

"Ouch," he smirked, his hand reaching out to gently brush some hair from your face. "Good morning. Or should I say good afternoon, hm?"

"Um, sure. Thanks for last night, I suppose." Is that what he's waiting on? Acknowledgment? You pull the covers further up, making to sure cover as much of your torso as you can.

Your ex boyfriend only smirked, fingers trailing down your body just above the thick blankets. He propped his head up on one hand, elbow sinking slightly into your mattress. The way the afternoon sun danced between his brown curls made you think of last night, and how nice it felt to grip his soft hair once again. The thought makes you sigh, turning away from him to gaze at the ceiling once more.

"Hey, so, um, I gotta get ready. I have plans later..." you trail off, hoping he'll take the hint. Your ex has always been smart, especially socially - he'll understand.

And he does, for the most part, but he doesn't care. "Kicking me out already? The day just started. I thought you'd at least offer me a bowl of cereal before sending me away." His tone is teasing, the same smug smirk sitting prettily on his lips. "What are your plans, then? Anything I can tag along for?"

The incredulous look on your face gives away your confusion. "What..? No. Hey, thanks again for last night, but this is where we part. You got what you wanted, didn't you?"

He pouts at your words before sitting up. "Yeah, fine. I got what I wanted. Didn't realize this was just a fuck for you."

"Are you saying for you this was more?" You asked genuinely.

"No, I just thought it might have been more for you," he replies dismissively. Standing up, he begins pulling on his pants. "Have fun on your date, then."

You nod, unaware of his trap as you reply genuinely. "Thanks, I'll try."

He pauses, one leg in his pant leg and the other hovering just above it. "So you are prepping for a date."

Looking at him curiously, you nod. "Mhm, yeah. I was chatting with someone on Tinder. Figured I shouldn't go running to my ex whenever I need a good fuck."

He scoffs. "You think you can get a good fuck anywhere else?"

"That's what I'm tryna find out. Put on your pants, please."

"I guess it's my fault then, hm?" His eyes narrowed at you, giving nothing away as he remained frustrated and angry.

"...Fault for what?" You were confused, unaware as to what he was hinting at.

Your ex grits his teeth, feeling annoyed at your obliviousness. "For thinking we might actually get back together."

His words left you stunned for a moment, watching in silence he pulled his pants on the rest of the way. With a rather solemn expression, he shook his head in defeat and put his shirt on quickly. "There's my answer, then," he murmured, more to himself than you as he turned to leave.

Anger coursed through your body. How dare he play the hurt victim now? "Hey, fuck you!" You shouted without thinking. What a colossal asshole! "The night I broke up with you, you told me you never even liked me in the first place! And now what, you suddenly wanna 'rekindle what we had?' What did we have, Dazai? Please, enlighten me, because I find myself remembering that our whole relationship was just you talking down to me and treating me like some second-rate escort! I'm sorry for wanting more," you unloaded. Every thought that had been bouncing around in your head moved out of the way as you admitted what had been eating at you during the year of your relationship together. "It was our one year anniversary, you know, when I finally called it quits. Did you even remember?"

He didn't; of course not. You could just tell by his continued silence and the way he glanced away.

Tears brimmed your eyes. The only thing worse than his condescending remarks was the silence. You couldn't stand his quiet behavior, even when you were together - it screamed pity, and that's the last thing you wanted from someone who always knew what to say. "Get the fuck out of my house." You flopped back against your bed, burying your face into a soft pillow for the second time since waking up less than 10 minutes ago.

The sound of his feet pattering away is unheard by you, barely able to hear anything over the ringing in your head. As silently as you can, you sob into your pillow, feeling hurt and used by your stupid ex boyfriend.

Nikolai, in his crusade for emotional freedom, sometimes found himself treating you in a way that was less than ideal. He liked starting arguments with you, “proving” he didn’t love you as much as he clearly did and definitely wasn’t willing to do anything you asked. It was always over small things, like who made dinner (he’d get mad if you made it since he wanted to treat you or get mad that he’d have to make it since he always does) or how you hogged the blankets at night. Because of this, you usually overlooked it — you understand that it’s his way of proving his freedom and it never devolved into anything more.

Until today, that is. You could hardly remember what the argument was originally about, but he just kept pushing…

“Nikolai, I don’t even know what I did wrong.” Tears were starting to gather in your eyes, making them puffy and glazed over. The more he raised his voice, the more you shrunk in on yourself.

“That’s the problem! How could you not know?!” He took a step closer, towering over you with his large frame.

It was almost hard to breathe, panic coursing through your veins as you suddenly pushed him away with every ounce of strength you had. Silence coursed between the two of you, air tense and uncomfortable. Your tears finally spill once you notice how your hands are shaking. Fine, if he wanted to be free, then far be it from you to stop him.

Wiping your cheeks, you weakly reply, “Get out of my apartment.”

The white haired man paused, waiting to see if you meant it. You didn’t, not really, but it’s embarrassing to admit that when you gaze at your fearfully shaking hands. This isn’t how a boyfriend should treat his partner.

“Please, Nikolai…” You’d fold, you always did, so you resorted to begging while you still had the courage.

That courage wavers fully as his hands rested on your hips, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “It’s my fault, baby,” he whispers. “Let me make it up to you. I’ll get you flowers, and we can order your favorite takeout and have a picnic in the living room while watching your favorite movie…” His thumbs brushed the fresh tears away before both hands grabbed yours. “The last thing I want is for my dove to be scared of me, I swear. I love you more than anything, you’re all I want,” he presses soft kisses against your knuckles, “please, just let me stay...”

You fold.

thank you for this bc i have been ITCHING to write for nikolai my wife my girlfriend my lover (I HAVENT WRITTEN FOR HIM B4 SORRY)

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seeingivy · 1 year

Text

bad day

eren jeager x f!reader

**find the mini-series masterlist here

eren can read you, like a book. except when he can’t.

previous part linked here

You wear your heart on your sleeve. Eren appreciates that about you. He’s been appreciating a lot of things about you lately - your cleanliness, your kindness, your eyes, not that he’d ever admit that. Annie had haphazardly mentioned that you were growing on Eren, which he denied. He was unsure why his cheeks were burning at the thought of it.

He never realized someone could be so expressive, so lively when it came down to it. Ever since the two of you had established you were friends, which he thought was stupid because why wouldn’t you guys be friends, you were more comfortable - you talked to him more, brought him food on the way home from class, or came to watch his soccer games.

One time, Eren made you breakfast in the morning when he noticed you were running late. Your morning reenactment of the Reputation Tour in the shower went on for too long and you were running throughout the apartment grabbing your stuff. When he handed you the bowl, he could have sworn his heart was going to burst out of his chest. Your big doe eyes, that silly little smile - he felt his breath stop in his tracks right there. He made you breakfast every day after just to see that look again.

Eren can tell when you’re annoyed with him. Your shoulders get all tense and you stop talking, which he learned was so that you could avoid confronting him. If he pushes you enough, he’ll have the words spilling out of you - going on about how he doesn’t clean up the dirt he tracks in after practice, he leaves his laundry in the dryer too long, and he talks on the phone while you’re asleep too loudly.

But what Eren can’t tell is what you’re feeling right now. You make dinner every night. Since Eren went out of his way to make breakfast everyday, he lets you make dinner or order for the two of you every night. He wouldn’t have agreed to it, but you can be surprisingly convincing if you want to be. Or he just gives in, because it’s you.

You’re surprisingly quiet, wordlessly making the pasta you had picked out for dinner. Your shoulders are drooping down, the usual liveliness in your eyes absent. Your face is void from any emotion. It’s…uncomfortable. And he doesn’t like it.

“Hey silly girl.”

You hum in response, your eyes focused on the water that’s boiling.

“What are we eating?”

“Pasta, Eren.”

He freezes. You never call him Eren. He never calls you Y/N, not unless it’s important anyways.

He’d accrued a nice collection of nicknames for you - silly girl, peaches (because of your shampoo), and kitty (only because he loves the disgusted face you make every time he says it).

You had your own for him as well - Kylo Ren (which he thought was a stupid play on words), stinky (because he doesn’t shower right after practice), and at odd times, you would call him bro, which he thought was absolutely disgusting coming out of your sweet little mouth. Why is he looking at your mouth?

“What kind?”

You sigh, the frustration rising into your cheeks.

“I- I don’t want to talk right now. Just leave me alone.”

You can feel the tears rising to your cheeks, the anger seething in you. You weren’t angry at him. You were angry at everything else - the tears rising in your cheeks, the day you had, the fact that you just snapped at him.

You put the wooden spoon down, leaning your head against the counter. You push in on your eyes with your forearms, hoping the tears will disappear if you push them away.

You feel Eren’s hand settling in your hair, soothing out the tangles from under your shirt. You sigh at the contact, lifting your head up to look at him.

He’s leaning against the counter, his long sleeve pulled up to the middle of his forearm, his stupid veiny arms on display.

“Talk.”

“You have such a way with words, Eren.”

He smiles, your talkback better than the frozen silence from earlier.

“What happened, kitty?”

“Ew, Eren. You’re so gross.”

He laughs, still waiting for a response. You can feel the tears still lingering in your eyes, the discomfort sitting in your chest. You sincerely hope it stays there and doesn’t spill out when you talk.

“It just wasn’t my day today. I spilled the breakfast you made me on the shuttle to class, my professor called on me and I didn’t know the answer, Wall Rose made my coffee bad, my hair is standing up, I have a paper due in two days, I still have to do my laundry, I snapped at Armin at work and at you just now and I’m just really, really frustrated. There’s too much going on all at once.”

He makes a mental note. If you’re surprisingly quiet, moving emotionlessly through the kitchen, you’ve had a bad day. You’ve had a bad day and you’re not talking to him to avoid taking it out on him. So sweet, even when you’re upset.

The two of you stand in silence, as you swirl the pasta around in the pan. You hope it turns out good or you think you’ll actually lose it if one more thing goes wrong today.

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

“Did you want a hug?”

You freeze, the spoon you were using to stir clinking against the pan as you drop it. You turn your head to meet his eyes, as he towers over you. His hair is damn, the smell of his Irish Spring soap still clinging to his skin.

“That’s embarrassing, Eren. You don’t have to like…pity me just because I’m upset.”

Stubborn. To a fault.

“Y/N. Maybe…I need the hug. Please?”

You narrow your eyes, meeting his green ones. You can tell he’s waiting, still leaning against the counter next to you. He’s not going to take no for an answer is he? You roll your eyes, opening your arms. He sports a cheeky grin, pulling you close to him.

The two of you stand like that for a while, your breaths moving in sync. You can feel your tears return, Eren rubbing small circles into your back.

“You’re annoying. Did you do this with your other roommate too?”

He laughs, the sound vibrating against your ear. You’re still pressed into his chest, tracking tears and snot onto his shirt.

“Oh yeah. Samuel was a big crier. I had to spoon him every day when he came back from class.”

You laugh, breaking apart to finish the pasta that you were making. But he takes over before you can, finishing making the rest for you. He dishes the pasta into two plates, balancing them in his hands as he walks over to the couch.

You settle down next to him, the remote fixed in your hand. As you open up your Netflix account, you can feel Eren scoot closer to you, an annoyed look fixed on his face.

“We’re not watching the Reputation Stadium Tour. I heard enough of that last week when you were showering.”

You pause, still clicking through the different movies.

“How did you know it was the Reputation Stadium Tour that I was singing?”

He freezes, the bowl still in his hands. You look over, a strange look plastered on his face. There’s no way.

The two of you eye his phone on the table in front of you and you reach for it before he does. You unlock his phone, scanning over for his Netflix app. He had to have watched it. How else could he know?

His hands reach for yours, wrestling the phone out of your hands. The two of you play tug of war, wobbling on your knees on top of the couch. You wrestle it out of his grasp but Eren loses his balance, toppling over you.

He’s leaning over you know, his hair flopped over his face as he towers over you. He props his hand against the side, hovering inches above you - his lips merely ghosting over yours.

“Eren.” you whisper

“Hm?”

“You watched the Reputation Stadium Tour, didn’t you?”

You see an annoyed look settle on his face and swear his eyes dart down to your lips before he gets off of you. He sticks his hand out to pull you back up, handing you your bowl from the floor.

“Tell anyone and I’ll skin you alive.”

You smile, putting on the latest episode of Arrested Development to watch while you were eating. You try to avoid the pounding in your chest, the heat in your cheeks as you sit next to him, eating the dinner the two of you had made.

next part linked here

pls let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!!! just reply to this post or leave ur @ in my asks box :D

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bingbongsupremacy · 6 months

Text

Happy Anniversary

Pairing: Ellie Williams x Reader

Warnings: Creep, pet names, use of y/n

Summary: An anger filled fight doesn't stop Ellie from Standing up for you.

*Not Proof Read* TLOU Masterlist

*****

" -god, how many times do I have to tell you, I'm fucking sorry, okay? I completely forgot about our date. It's been a long week. " Ellie groans, running a hand through her messy hair.

" Our date? " I narrow my eyes in disbelief. " It's our anniversary, you absolute ass. I've been reminding you about it for the past fucking five days. I planned everything, Ellie. All you had to do was fucking show up and you couldn't even do that. "

Ellie's jaw clenches in frustration. Her eyes darken. Annoyance seeps through her tone. " It's one fucking day. I get it, we've been dating for an entire year, whoopie. " Ellie mocks. " We don't need to plan something on a stupid fucking day to remind ourselves how long we've been together. "

Sadness fills my already rage filled heart. Did she really not give a shit? " That's not the point, Ellie. I barely see you anymore. You're always on patrol...I just wanted to spend time with you. And-and you can't even spare an hour for me anymore! "

Ellie's eyes narrow. She stands up, finally meeting my gaze. " Don't even. You spend all your time in that stupid bakery. Doing what? Baking fucking cakes. At least I'm trying to protect us-keep the fucking bad shit outside so you can keep on baking pastries. I'm on patrol for us. "

Rage seeps out of Ellie's every pore. Her face is lit up from the fire place, casting a dark shadow across her tired features.

My heart shatters. Stupid pastries? Does she think that little of my job? " I don't need you to protect me. I can take care of myself. " I spit. " I've survived without you for years, Ellie. I can do it again. I don't need you. "

For a moment Ellie's angry expression seems to break. Sadness flashes through her eyes, leaving just as fast as it came. Could it be the lighting?

" You don't need me? Fucking fine. " Ellie snatches her worn coat from the floor. " I'll see you around. " Ellie snaps towards the door.

Regret floods my body. " Ellie-Wait! I didn't mean it. " I chase after her. " Ellie! "

Ellie doesn't respond. Instead she slams my front door, stopping me from continuing after her. The loud sound bounces off my dark walls, mocking my hurting heart.

All I wanted was to spend time with her.

---------

Ellie doesn't need me either.

For weeks I've thought back the our argument, where everything went wrong. I doubt Ellie has. She's spent the last 3 weeks partying with Cat.

It's not like I'm unfamiliar with the quietness filling my house. I spend most of my nights alone, only having another person there when Ellie sneaks in after patrol. This time, the silence is haunting.

Ellie's still pissed. She hasn't bothered to pick up anything of hers. Whenever we're in the same area, she finds a way to get out of there fast.

Honestly, I'm still pissed at her. The one time in 2 weeks I ask for her to make time for me, and she still can't find the fucking find a way to.

I make my way out of the bar, flinching at the freezing temperature outside. The streets are quiet. Only the flickering lights from nearby street lights break the darkness. Everyone's home.

I make my way down the street, taking my time look at the night sky.

A shiver runs down my spine when the sound of crunching snow fills my ears. Not from my shoes. From someone else.

" H-hey, baby. Where're you heading off to all alone? " A slurred voice asks.

I turn the face the owner. It's one of the newer people Tommy brought in today. " That's none of your business. "

I shove my freezing hands into my pockets.

The mans' eyes narrow. His grinning expression fading into a more frustrated one. " That's no way to talk to your new neighbor, sweet cheeks. Especially when he's being so nice to you. "

Disgust and fear fill my stomach. This guy can't be serious.

The tart smell of booze oozes off of his clothes. He certainly didn't wait long to find the bar.

" Why don't you leave me alone, neighbor. " I try to stand up straight, make myself look intimidating. Inside, my heart pounds quickly.

The man steps closer to me, causing me to take a step back. My heels makes contact with the snow covered curb. My body falls backwards, my arms stretching back to catch my fall.

A stinging pain fills my left hand. The white snow underneath quickly turns a cherry shade of red. The icy dust enrages my cut hand, making the injury hurt so much more.

" You just saved me a whole lotta time, baby. " The man chuckles, stepping towards me, grabbing ahold of the back of my head.

" Hey you, ugly motherfucker, back the fuck off. " Ellie's familiar voice cuts through the bitter air. She steps out of the shadows from behind the man, carrying a blade in hand. " Now. "

The man chuckles. " What? Is this your little bitch? Shoulda known, they look like a- " The man doesn't have time to finish his sentence.

Ellie lunges at the man, taking him off guard as she loops behind him, holding the shiny blade to his neck. " Unless you have a death wish, I suggest you shut the fuck up. "

His hand lets go of my head, obviously surprised by the sudden movement. The mans eyes widen in confusion and shock. " Hey- "

Ellie presses the blade in the mans throat. Not hard enough to kill him, but hard enough to draw a few beads of blood.

" Please! " The man begs, obviously not expecting this outcome.

Ellie pushes the man away. " Get the fuck out of here, you fucking coward. "

The man scrambles away from us. He hurries back in the direction of the bar, clutching his veiny neck with his large hand.

" Thank you. " I let out a breath of relief. " I had no idea- "

Ellie turns her eyes towards me once she's sure the man has gone away. " What the hell are you doing out here this late? Are you fucking crazy? What the fuck is wrong with you! " Ellie steps towards me. " You could've been hurt! God, do you even think? "

As much as want to fight back, I know she's right. I should've left with Jesse and Dina. So many new people have been brought into Jackson, too many to meet them all. There's bound to be some shady characters in the mix.

" I didn't think anything would happen. " Tears sting the back of my eyes. I tear my gaze away, not wanting Ellie to see me weak.

Ellie scoffs. " You're not a fucking ghost, y/n. People can see you walking out here alone and the fucked up ones will want to hurt you. "

" I know. " I whisper, trying to cover up the shaky sound of my voice.

Ellie's eyes soften. " Y/N..." She sighs. " I didn't mean-Is that blood? " Ellie rushes towards me, snatching my hand from the ground. " Oh my god, why didn't you say anything? "

I try to pull my hand away. " It's just a scrape. "

" Your hand looks like a fucking Saw movie - " Ellie holds my wrist tightly, not allowing me to break away.

" Ellie! What the fuck. " My stomach churns at the sight of my hand. I didn't realize it was bleeding this bad.

Ellie puts her other hand on the side of my waist. " Come on, we need to get this fixed before you get an infection. Who knows what that fucker was carrying and if it spreads. "

I stand up and I'm quickly ushered towards Ellie's garage. " You're not funny. "

" I'm not trying to be. Did you see the crust on his eyes? I don't think that's natural. Not to mention his dirty fingers. " Ellie mutters.

We walk the rest of the way in silence, Ellie not moving her hand from my waist.

Light cuts through the darkness of Ellie's garage as she flicks on the switch. A pile of clothes sits in the corner next to her bed, obviously dirty from patrol. Various things liter the floor, just the way it was before I met her.

" It's a bit of a mess...I wasn't expecting company. " Ellie rubs the back of her neck, obviously a little embarrassed by the sight of her room. " I've been pretty busy. "

I roll my eyes. " With Cat, I know. "

Ellie's eyes widen. " What? Cat? "

" I know you've been hanging out with her. " I don't meet her gaze. I don't care if she hangs out with Cat. It's just the fact she didn't tell me about it. I guess we were on a break...She didn't need to tell me anything.

Ellie grabs a small bag from on top of her desk. She gently pushes me onto the bed before pulling open the bag. " It's not like that...We didn't do anything. " She dabs the cut with a little towel.

" Yeah, for sure. Look Ellie, I don't give a shit who you fuck. " I say through clenched teeth. Obviously I'm lying. " Just don't pretend you having been with someone else. "

Ellie's eyes meet mine, confusion filling her expression. " Y/N, it's not like that. Cat and I...we aren't anything. I met with her 2 times to talk to her about...fuck about how to make everything up to you. I didn't fuck Cat. I would never do that to you. "

My eyes widen. " What? "

Ellie continues to bandage my hand. " I told Cat what happened. She thought it was pretty shitty of me to stand you up on our anniversary. " Ellie sighs and lets go of my hand. " Look, I've never done this before. I've never been in a relationship this long. I-I'm fucking terrified. What am I supposed to do? " Ellie admits.

I've never seen her this...vulnerable before. She tends to keep things bottled up, something I've tried to get her to stop doing for her own sake, but it's never worked.

" I don't want to ruin you, y/n. I've ruined everything else in my fucking life. No one I love ever fucking gets a happy ending. I mean, look at Joel and Riley...I don't want you to end up like them. " Ellie's voice cracks.

" Ellie...I had no ideas..." I put my hand on her arm.

" How would you? I've been ignoring you for months. I just...I didn't want something to happen to you. I know that's a shitty excuse, but it's true. You mean so fucking much to me, Y/N. I don't know what I'd do without you. " I scan Ellie's face for any signs of dishonesty. She's sincere.

" Nothing is going to happen to me. Ellie, you can't do this to yourself, blame yourself for everything that happened. You had no idea what was going on. You have to stop torturing yourself with this. You aren't going to be able to live a full life if you're living in fear. " I try to reason with the woman.

Ellie swallows. " I just don't want you to get hurt. "

" Ellie, if something were to happen to me, I know you'd be right there to help me. I mean, look at what happened a little while ago. I'm going to be okay. Just please...don't ignore me. I want to be here for you. I want to spend time with you. " I pull the girl towards me. " I love you, Ellie Williams. I fucking love you so much. "

I feel Ellie tense at the words. We've never said I love you before.

Ellie shifts so her face is next to mine. Her hot breath fans over my cold lips. " I love you too. " She whispers.

I kiss her, pulling her body towards me. " You owe me a date. " I pant once we pull away.

" I owe you a lot of things. " Ellie sets her head on the crook of my shoulder. " I'll start with another kiss. "

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sparrowrye · 16 days

Text

Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, A3 part 9

Synopsis: Alastor disappeared for 8 years, leaving you confused, crushed, and angry. You spent those years building up your new self and protecting the haven from dangers left and right. What will happen when he returns to the new changes? Will he return anytime soon? Could you even go back to the way things were?

Previous part

Part 9: dominating discoveries

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Alastor's magic was all over me, as was he, the second I stepped foot in the house. He was searching for more injuries and sorting through my mind for anything ill will.

"Stop fussing," I said, attempting to push his chest away. His arm was still firmly wrapped around my back, cane in hand, as his other hand trailed over my head and shoulders for the umpteenth time, light as a feather. "My clothes are in worse condition."

"Angelic weapons are dangerous," he stated, "you may not have healed all the way."

"I'm fine. I'm half Angel, remember? But they do hurt like a bitch."

"Your language has gotten worse, my dear."

"I've heard you curse before. Here or there isn't going to hurt anyone." I scratched the healed spot on my nose. His palm came up to cup my cheek, claws cold to the touch despite the extreme warmth of his hand. His red eyes examined me in a long moment of silence.

"Alastor?" I brought him out of his trance.

"Hm?" he hummed, blinking twice.

"Thank you. For not interfering."

He blinked again. "You asked and I obliged. It would not do to make you loathe me again."

"You drive me nuts sometimes," I interlaced my fingers with his on my cheek, "but I don't think I could loathe you."

His smile was light and genuine. He placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. The brush of his hair on my cheeks, and the feeling of his lips on my skin, brought back our earlier conversation.

"I do believe—" I placed a kiss on his palm. "—I promised some quality time when I returned." His smile seemed slightly strained from the motion.

"I believe you did."

My heart hammered in my chest as I reached up to pull him down to my eye level by his bow tie. "Our bedroom may be a more...preferable space."

He snapped back up and pulled me close. Shadows warped my field of vision, thinning out to reveal the bright red master bedroom. I peeled away from him and took off my partially stained jacket.

"You did amazing tonight," he said from the place we had manifested in. He still had his cane in hand as he watched me drape the coat over a chair and return to him in the center of the room.

"I've done harder things." I leaned my weight into him and ran my hand over his clothed chest. I heard a sharp intake of static. I leaned my head on the front of his shoulder, letting my hand continue to wander down his arm. "How was the talk with Thatcher?"

I felt something jolt in his mind. "He...was not receptive, nor was Nym. They are both now asleep in their beds."

"So you didn't remedy what I had asked." I stepped away from him, watching him try to hide a wince at the loss of magical and physical contact. "Perhaps then we don't need to spend time together. I do need to clean my coat." I walked back to the chair to grab the material. As I pretended to examine it, he appeared behind me so that my back was against his chest.

"I attempted, as you asked." He was using his sweet, unfiltered voice. He was playing nice. I didn't want to, though. I had envisioned so many things during his absence, all thanks to the various books I had picked up.

"I told you to remedy it, not attempt to." I tilted my head at a funny angle to look up at him. His smile was strained but he was trying to keep his chipper tone.

"You know the children best," he tried. "Thatcher is terrified of the smallest of creatures. It will take some time for him to even look in my direction."

"You're telling me the Radio Demon can't handle children?"

"The Radio Demon does not like children," he returned, "but his soulmate does." He gently poked a claw under my chin. "Perhaps you will indulge me, darling? I did well not to interfere, as you requested."

"That's true." I abandoned the coat in exchange for facing him completely. "I suppose you deserve something for that."

He leaned down to allow the kiss. I put my hand behind his head to press harder into his lips. He hummed a laugh as his arm wrapped naturally around my back like he always did.

My other hand trailed down his arm to where he still held onto his cane. I tapped the cold metal twice and sent him a mental message to rid the thing. It disappeared with black and green electricity. It allowed his now free hand to mirror mine on his head. He leaned further over me, bending me backwards and pulling me into him.

As gently as before, I shifted through his brain. I wanted to satisfy my curiosity from earlier but didn't want to let him know what I was looking for; didn't want to run the risk of being pulled out of his mind. So I carefully ran my tongue on his lips and felt him dull his teeth enough for me to meet his tongue. It was enough of a distraction to let me in, his naturally dominating personality taking over of the physical actions.

I gently went back to the memory of my scolding. He was on his knees with my hand squeezing his ear. I pulled him down a second time and when he looked up; that's when I felt it. I searched in that part of his mind, shifting and moving to sit exactly as he was in that moment.

It took another moment of gentle digging to discover a shocking truth:

He had liked it.

He hadn't refused to use his magic against me because he was afraid of my anger, but because he was enjoying the power and aggression I was exhibiting...on him.

I dared another memory. He watched everything unfold at the factory through my eyes. At certain points that same feeling returned.

He was always in control, always had to be, so was it relieving to give it to someone else he trusted instead? Did he trust me like that?

I slithered out of the memory right as he pulled away from the kiss. Both of us were breathless. His antlers had grown a few inches.

"Are you alr—" he didn't get to finish his sentence as I shoved him backwards. I walked him right into the wall, grabbed his chin, and pulled him back down for another kiss. It took him a moment to register what had happened before he gave into the kiss. That same feeling from his memories was rising again.

One arm trapped my waist to his hips while the other grabbed the back of my head. His long, thick tongue was stronger than mine, pressing harshly around my mouth and daring to go too far back. Mine was close to the same length, tangling with his, and never allowing him to keep me in one place.

My free hand reached up to hook around the hem of his jacket. He flinched but didn't stop his advances in the kiss. So I continued, feeling around for how he got this thing off.

There were two buttons hidden under the fabric that were thankfully easy to undo. I sucked in more air through my nose as I slid both hands under the jacket at his shoulders. He detached his hands from me, never once breaking the wet kiss, and let me push it off his arms.

An unspoken thought passed through us: we were not ready to go all the way yet.

But that didn't mean we couldn't do other things. So, I sent an image to his mind before breaking the kiss. I gathered the ridiculously long jacket in my hands, stole a quick glance at him in his red button up, then turned away to hang the jacket on the chair with mine. As I did, my tail lightly trailed up his arm and flicked his hair. His palm brushed against the end as he moved to sit in the vacant chair.

I watched him pull the bow tie off and set it on the table. He then elegantly sat in the chair, arms on the rests, and tilted his head to the side to watch me. I put my hands behind my back and glided over to him. For once I couldn't read his expression. He was holding his flat-tooth smile, canines still large and on display, but his eyebrows were in a neutral spot.

If it wasn't for our magic, I might've thought he didn't want to continue.

But we did have soulmate magic. So I could feel his magic desperately trying to coax me into coming as close as physically possible. I stepped so our legs were somewhat intertwined and reached out, taking his chin in my palm and rubbing my thumb across his smooth skin. He was shorter by an inch or two in the chair but it still made it so he needed to look up to keep eye contact.

Was I actually holding the Radio Demon's face like this? Was he actually allowing me?

I drew my hand away, catching a small noise like a whimper from him, before slamming them on his arms and using extra magic to hold them in place against the armrest.

Alastor bristled.

His teeth sharpened.

I put my weight on his arms and brought both legs up to fold on either side of him, straddling his hips just as we had done the night before his disappearance. I threaded my hands through his hair on the side and made my way up to the base of his ears. His lips parted on a sigh, aggression disappearing as quickly as it had come on, as I gently ran my hands up and down the sensitive appendages.

With his eyes closed, he wasn't expecting my sudden kiss. This time the noise sounded like a squeak in my mouth. I laughed into the kiss, causing his ears to flatten sideways from embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, dear," I half mused half meant. I lightly ran my claw along one ear until I reached his antlers. I began scratching around them and watched him fall back into his trance.

"Allow me...to...to touch you," he tried. I could feel how much effort it took him to speak those simple words. My other hand reached behind his head and drew a sharp claw down the back of his head, down his neck, until his collar was in the way. He shivered at the sensation and groaned, eyes peeling open to look at me. "Y-you are doing things t-to me darling."

My hand came down from his antlers to press against his cheek. I brought my face closer so our noses touched. "Good."

A weird staticky noise gurgled in the back of his throat. I felt him push against my magic but I clamped down on it with my shield again. His head made a slight jerk to the side and he peered up with a glare.

"What has brought this on, my dear?" He straightened up and shifted his legs. My tail wrapped around both of his ankles, earning another staticky reaction.

"I've waited eight years to be able to kiss you." I kept my face close but never went in for that kiss. I could feel his mind trying to convince me to close the distance.

"You are doing much more than kissing," he pointed out.

I leaned back and placed my hands on his trapped arms. His eyes instantly looked me up and down. I could hear him begging for skin to skin touch. Though he would never admit it aloud. I would need to be sneaky.

"I'm experimenting." My hands glided up his arms until they reached the red collar. His eyes suddenly gripped mine and I found myself unable to look away. It was almost like a dare; a challenge.

My hands felt what they needed as I began unbuttoning his shirt. I had planned to stop but something compelled me to keep going. My hands moved on their own. There was something warm pumping through my veins.

It wasn't until I had neared his belt that I realized he had been coaxing me. His mind was filling my mind and seemed to have one hell of a grip. I couldn't shake him. Even when he dared to move my hands for my sharp claws to hook on his leather belt. A shot of nerves went through my body.

He brought my hands back up after a chuckle and finally made that desired skin to skin contact on his chest.

He let go of my mind then, licking his lips and leaning comfortably into the chair. I was about to make a remark when I realized I was touching fur. My eyes jumped down to his half exposed chest.

The fur was the same color as his skin and very short. It was soft.

I pushed the sides of shirt to the side to see how far his fur extended. It went down the center of his chest and covered about 3/4 to the sides. It turned to skin near his ribs.

"Just full of surprises," my tone went from surprise to mischief halfway through.

"You can't have all the fun, darling." His hands touched my back, earning a violent flinch from the unexpected contact.

"When did you—"

"You have not trumped me yet, love." His now free hands moved to my waist where his thumbs rubbed the bone hidden beneath my pants. "I've allowed you to have your fun. Now it is my turn."

His arms wrapped around and under me as he abruptly stood up. I clung to his shoulders and wrapped my legs around him on instinct. I kept my tail out of the way of his boots as he landed my back firmly on the mattress.

Not all the way. We thought in union.

With both agreeing on the same idea, it gave plenty of room to see just how far we could go without going all the way.

I kept my legs around his waist as his he looked down at me. He took up most of my vision with that devilish smile of his. He brought my claw to his face where he placed a gentle kiss on it. Seeing him tower over me like this brought on a funny feeling.

He let go of my hand and moved to my shirt. He asked the question through my mind—waited for an answer—before slipping his palm under the fabric to touch my skin.

It burned.

But in a good way.

I could feel how careful he was being. His palms rang over my stomach without his claws poking me, then hooked gently on the side. I started to laugh and pulled his hands off.

"My my, are you tickilish, my dear?" He pressed against my grip to touch the tip of his claw on my side again. I arched funny and brought my feet up to push him away. "I don't think so." He brushed both feet to the side with one arm and climbed all the way on the bed.

His arm hooked my back to drag me further up towards the pillows. He let me drop and ran his claw along my side again. I stifled a yell, somehow able to remember we had children in the other rooms, and pulled on his antlers to make him stop.

His claws left my skin and grabbed my wrists, yanking them off and pinning them to the bed on either side of my head.

I abruptly went still.

He let go of my wrists and leaned on the mattress instead. He planted a gentle kiss on my forehead then leaned back to look in my eyes. He brought the back of his claws against my cheek in his usual way. His smile was small and genuine.

He snapped his fingers to dress both of us in our nightly outfits. I silently slipped under the sheets and waited for him to do the same. As soon as he was laying on his back, I attached myself to his side.

I felt a smooth wave of warmth travel between our minds. He was happy, and a little bit relieved. So I rubbed my face against his shoulder, hooked my one foot on his, wrapped my tail around his ankle, and slipped my hand just barely under his shirt so my palm touched his skin. He was so warm.

I sent him a picture in my mind and let out a sigh of relief when his gentle claw went under my shirt to rest on my back. How cold his claws be cold but his fingers so warm?

He placed another kiss on my forehead.

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Author's Note:

I can't promise what day I'll upload, but I can promise that y'all will be rewarded for your undying patience. Next part is gonna be juicyyyy

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Taglist:

@wendigonamecaller @saccharine-nectarine @thesimpybitch @papas-ghoulette @masochist-downfall @martinys-world

#demi demon #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #soulmate au #soulmates #reqs open

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gleefullypolin · 7 days

Text

Romancing Mister Bridgerton Book Spoilers for reference:

Everyone is getting up in their feels about how Colin is going to handle the LW reveal and I know the show has really ramped up the drama compared to the book with extra risk however I still think some of the book is relevant here. Stick with me, this gets lengthy...

We’ve all seen the rumors. Brothel smothel. I’m not here to soothe anyone’s mind or spoil the show. I’m not a brothel hater from part 1. I felt the scenes while not completely fun to watch, were part of the story. Colin is playing the role he feels society is asking him to play. He seeks out this part while still feeling this enormous loneliness from it (see journal entry). He also does not seek out intimacy, there is a reason he is with 2 women and not 1. It is easier to avoid intimacy if you do not have to be one on one. There is much to draw out of the brothel scene but I’m not here for that. Either way, we may see him return to one in part 2 and we may not. I am withholding judgment until we know how it plays out and what he does there. Colin will have a huge secret that he cannot share with anyone, he may not have many places he can go. So I’m just going to wait and see.

However, I also know that Show Colin is as Book Colin, Kind. He is forgiving. And lets look past the situation and go to where he will return to Pen AFTER he has resolved to continue his conversation regarding LW.

Colin will definitely be angry. Pen lied to him. And she wrote as LW after they were engaged and announced. This will definitely I am sure be a punch to the chest. I feel for Colin. This again is imperfect people making mistakes. Pen made one here. In the book she made the same mistake:

“Don’t,” she said, her voice shaking.

“Don’t touch you?” His voice grew mocking, and Penelope was glad that she couldn’t see his face. “But you’re mine, aren’t you?”

“Not yet,” she warned him.

“Oh, but you are. You saw to that. It was rather clever timing, actually, waiting until our engagement ball to make your final announcement. You knew I didn’t want you to publish that last column. I forbade it! We agreed—”

“We never agreed!”

He ignored her outburst. “You waited until—”

“We never agreed,” Penelope cried out again, needing to make it clear that she had not broken her word. Whatever else she had done, she had not lied to him. Well, aside from keeping Whistledown a secret for nearly a dozen years, but he certainly hadn’t been alone in that deception. “And yes,” she admitted, because it didn’t seem right to start lying now, “I knew you wouldn’t jilt me. But I hoped—”

So yes the show is different here because he already knew she was LW at the engagement in the book and published after they agreed she wouldn't. But same premise in the show, she lied to him after the engagement. so work with me here, She knew that Colin would not leave her even after she posted her article. It was wrong. She knew it. But she did it anyway.

“You hoped what?” Colin asked after an interminable silence.

“I hoped that you would forgive me,” she whispered. “Or at least that you would understand. I always thought you were the sort of man who…”

“What sort of man?” he asked, this time after the barest hint of a pause.

“It’s my fault, really,” she said, sounding tired and sad. “I’ve put you on a pedestal. You’ve been so nice all these years. I suppose I thought you were incapable of anything else.”

In the book you start to see that Colin becomes concerned about Pen, this is where his concern comes in, he’s worried about her safety here. He wants her to allow Cressida to just have taken the fall. She is being reckless.

Colin looked away. He didn’t know why he did so; it wasn’t as if he could see her in the dark, anyway. But there was something about the tone of her voice that made him uneasy. She sounded vulnerable, tired. Wishful and heart-broken. She made him want to understand her, or at least to try, even though he knew she had made a terrible mistake. Every little catch in her voice put a damper on his fury. He was still angry, but somehow he’d lost the will to display it.

“You are going to be found out, you know,” he said, his voice low and controlled. “You have humiliated Cressida; she will be beyond furious, and she’s not going to rest until she unearths the real Lady Whistledown.”

Penelope moved away; he could hear her skirts rustling. “Cressida isn’t bright enough to figure me out, and besides, I’m not going to write any more columns, so there will be no opportunity for me to slip up and reveal something.” There was a beat of silence, and then she added, “You have my promise on that.”

“It’s too late,” he said.

“It’s not too late,” she protested. “No one knows! No one knows but you, and you’re so ashamed of me, I can’t bear it.”

“Oh, for the love of God, Penelope,” he snapped, “I’m not ashamed of you.”

And now we start to shift. The conversation of anger to shame.

Colin crossed the room and fumbled in a drawer for a candle and the means with which to light it. “I’m not ashamed of you,” he reiterated, “but I do think you’re acting foolishly.”

“You may be correct,” she said, “but I have to do what I think is right.”

“You’re not thinking,” he said dismissively, turning and looking at her face as he sparked a flame. “Forget, if you will—although I cannot—what will happen to your reputation if people find out who you really are. Forget that people will cut you, that they will talk about you behind your back.”

“Those people aren’t worth worrying about,” she said, her back ramrod straight.

And now we talk about society. We talk about what Pen has done throughout the years. What her words have meant across the ton.

“But forget all of that,” he continued. “You have spent the last decade insulting people. Offending them.”

“I have said lots of very nice things as well,” she protested, her dark eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“Of course you have, but those aren’t the people you are going to have to worry about. I’m talking about the angry ones, the insulted ones.” He strode forward and grabbed her by her upper arms. “Penelope,” he said urgently, “there will be people who want to hurt you.”

She doesn’t see that she has tried to hurt people. Pen is not a bad person. She has written the truth. Even when it has hurt people she doesn't see herself as a bad person, she is NOT and I mean to say this clearly for those that have not heard me, she is NOT a villain. But here is where it gets interesting for me and it will harken back for me to the show. To the MOST important conversation that Pen and Colin have ever had.

“What I want to know,” he asked, deliberately forcing the conversation back on topic so his mind wouldn’t wander down such dangerous roads, “is why you’re not jumping on the perfect alibi if the point is to remain anonymous.”

“Because remaining anonymous isn’t the point!” she fairly yelled.

“You want to be found out?” he asked, gaping at her in the candlelight.

“No, of course not,” she replied. “But this is my work. This is my life’s work. This is all I have to show for my life, and if I can’t take the credit for it, I’ll be damned if someone else will.”

Colin opened his mouth to offer a retort, but to his surprise, he had nothing to say. Life’s work. Penelope had a life’s work.

He did not.

So lets go back to Season 2. To this most important and intimate conversation that I think they have ever had together.

Pen: I am certain you will find your purpose one day. Everyone must eventually.

Colin: Have you found yours?

Pen: Of course not. But I imagine it to be something both animating and satisfying. The type of venture that speaks not to who I am but rather who I am to be. My purpose will challenge me to be brave and witty. My purpose will propel me far beyond the watchful glare of my mama. My purpose shall set me free.

Colin: What could possibly measure up to all that? Your dreams are grander than you let on, Pen.

Pen: Yes, they are mere fantasies, but I do believe we must allow ourselves those private moments so we may face reality armed with our reveries.

This is what we built up to, this right here. This is what we lead to in Season 3. And that will lead us to Book Colin. This is what they are giving us and it is glorious. And I love it. And I believe this is our New girl kiss and this is our Mirror and I am here and I will believe in this because this is our Polin!

She was amazing. He didn’t know how he hadn’t realized it before, when he’d already known that she was smart and lovely and witty and resourceful. But all those adjectives, and a whole host more he hadn’t yet thought of, did not add up to the true measure of her.

She was amazing.

And he was…Dear God above, he was jealous of her.

“I’ll go,” she said softly, turning and walking toward the door.

For a moment he didn’t react. His mind was still frozen, reeling with revelations. But when he saw her hand on the doorknob, he knew he could not let her go. Not this night, not ever.

“No,” he said hoarsely, closing the distance between them in three long strides. “No,” he said again, “I want you to stay.”

She looked up at him, her eyes two pools of confusion. “But you said—”

He cupped her face tenderly with his hands. “Forget what I said.”

And that was when he realized that Daphne had been right. His love hadn’t been a thunderbolt from the sky. It had started with a smile, a word, a teasing glance. Every second he had spent in her presence it had grown, until he’d reached this moment, and he suddenly knew.

He loved her.

He was still furious with her for publishing that last column, and he was bloody ashamed of himself that he was actually jealous of her for having found a life’s work and purpose, but even with all that, he loved her.

And if he let her walk out the door right now, he would never forgive himself.

This will lead to jealous Colin because suddenly the woman he is marrying has her purpose, he still does not, his new wife is successful, a writer, who he deems himself to be. This woman who compliments his writing suddenly has clout to do so. This is Book Colin coming home to us. But at the end of the chapter...let us remember, he would not let her walk out the door because even with all of that, the deception, the jealousy...he would not forgive himself if he let her walk out the door, because he LOVED her.

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