#and some fucking statements he made MONTHS ago

[bowtiepastabitch]

Oh by the way don't go on twitter rn

#genuinely get closer every day to deleting my account because what the fuck guys #okay just gonna rant in the tags for a minute ignore me #because what the actual FUCK #I made a twitter account so I could see what Michael Sheen posted #because it makes me happy and that has value for me #and I've checked back every couple days then every couple weeks since october to see if he'd posted anything #and people are sTILL fucking going on about it #guys #guys I'm begging y'all to realize that bullying someone off a website is not the activism slay you think it is #there are celebrities that are PROUD zionists can we PLEASSE focus on them?? if we're gonna talk about celebs at all???? #your time could be doing so many more valuable things than posting over and over about your opinions #about some other random uninvolved guys opinions #about a complex conflict in which it is not a wrong desire for innocents to not be killed!!! #in which a ceasefire is what we've been demanding from our reps for months!!!!! #and some fucking statements he made MONTHS ago #statements which by the way were not wrong or incorrect #y'all forget that being anti-zionist in the modern imperial hellscape of america and the uk has very serious consequences that I have seen #in my own actual goddamn life #calling for a ceasefire is exactly what we were asked to do by organizers jesus fuck are y'all that dense???? #have you done so little actual activism that you don't know that??? what is happening????? #and now georgia tennant deactivated her fucking account because she got dogpiled too #for not providing a full PR defense against claims she was a zionist #like guys come on we all know how that goes #it doesn't matter what you say someone is gonna get angry and pick it apart she doesn't owe us proof she's not a zionist #I'm not here to say she responded correctly but there's nothing she could have said that would have made twitter happy #because that's how celebrity drama works and you know it #so now of course everyone's buzzing again about michael and georgia and neil and fuck him fuck her whatever #people are blocking each other for supporting or not supporting and shit it's a bloodbath #and for what #for. fucking. what.

[dante-mightdie]

part 3. of the toxic!simon adventure (contains smut)

alex begins making many more appearances in your life and simon can’t fuckin’ stand it. tells himself that there’s just something off about that guy, doesn’t seem like he could protect you if it came to it. this statement made price let out a scoff in response

“he’s one of the best soldiers i’ve ever worked with, simon. besides, they’re just bein’ friendly with each other.”

“too friendly…” simon mumbles under his breath, narrowing his eyes as he watches you laugh at one of alex’s silly puns

simon spends a lot of time at the Price household. he says it’s because your old man lives closer to base but the truth is he can’t stand being alone in his flat in manchester, haunted and plagued by the chaos he’s seen on the field

he didn’t appreciate how often he was bumping into alex keller when he came to visit. price claiming that alex has to some work to conduct in the UK and offered him a place to stay. nothing to overthink, he says.

except for the fact that you’re both attached at the hip. watching tv together, joining alex on his morning runs, driving you around to help you run your errands. simon watches with a twitch in his eye, a mean feeling bubbling up in his chest as he watches his favourite toy get snatched up by the new kid in the playground

simon is constantly finding opportunities to get in your way, or more specifically, get in Alex’s way. He’ll watch from the kitchen as Alex’s hand twitches to reach out for yours when you’re both watching some show you were both talking about at dinner…

so simon decides he wants to watch that show too, planting himself right beside you, if he was any closer he would be sitting in your lap.

he caught a peek of the two of you stood in the back garden, alex pointing up at the night stars and leaning over to whisper something in your ear, making you giggle

so simon decided he needed to have a cigarette right that second, stalking out into the garden and slamming the door to announce his presence

“not interrupting anythin’, am I?”

you both sheepishly smile and shake your heads, seperating from each other

later on that night when the house is quiet and everyone has headed off to bed, simon finds himself unable to sleep. he thinks about going for a smoke or having another glass of bourbon but instead finds himself with his hand down his sweats, sloppily pumping his cock

in his other meaty hand, he holds his phone. a picture of you clad in some stringy lingerie that you sent to him one late night a few months ago. these pictures were always the product of you having a bad day and then being ignored by simon

crying in your room because he’s an emotionally unavailable prick, telling yourself that you’re over it and you’re gonna ignore him too. and then less than an hour later, your posing for your camera in a desperate attempt to get him to come to your room

well, at least, that’s what you used to do. simon never responded to these pictures. not even a thumbs up. perhaps you got tired of being ignored by him, simon thinks. or maybe you want him to send you a picture this time. or maybe, just fucking maybe, you’re sending these pretty pictures to someone else…

the thought makes simon yank his hand from his trackies with a curse falling from his lips. his cock aching and leaking against the material of his boxers, desperate for release. he snatches his mask from the bedside table and trudges down the hallway, only to stop at the sound of breathy moans coming through the crack of your door

it’s nearly 2AM. why is the light on in your room? why are you awake? simon’s brain runs a mile a minute with thoughts of you. when did he start thinking about you?

he places a hand on your door and slowly pushes it open enough so you can’t see his bulky frame in the dark hallway

and there you are. laying on your back with your forearm over your eyes, loud moans escaping your throat as desperate sobs. for a second, simon’s brain doesn’t even notice there’s another person in your room, too focused on watching your blissed out expression to notice that Alex was on top of you, pushing on your thighs to tuck your knees behind your ears

the slick sounds of your pussy being fucked would probably have been enough to keep simon’s cock hard, but not when he’s watching you fall apart in another man’s arms

he’s got you folded into a mating press, repeatedly slapping his hips into yours. he nearly vomits from rage when he hears you cry out his name

“Alex! fuck, I can’t… ‘s too much…” you whine out, bracing your hands on his shoulders when Alex reaches up to grip the headboard of your bed

“yeah, ya can, sugar. so good for me. such a good fucking girl. all pretty for me, ain’t that right, baby?” he whispers in your ear, but simon heard it. and it makes him fucking rage that this is what has become of him. standing in the pitch black corridor, watching you get fucked by another man like a pervert

but simon isn’t getting off on this. no, how can he enjoy staring at your panties dangling from your ankle knowing he wasn’t the one tugging them off your wet pussy? how can enjoy the sound of your moans when you silence them by pulling on Alex’s dogtags for a kiss?

you look so pretty when you come, simon thinks to himself as you squeal and kick your feet against Alex’s back. so pretty when it’s too much for you…

not that simon would know. he always turned your face away from his when you fucked, putting you on your knees and shoving your face into the mattress.

simon decides it’s too much for him to handle when he hears you begging for Alex to come inside of you. stalks back to his lonely room and unlocks his phone, shoving his hand back into his boxers and loading up a picture of you…

#mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #toxic!simon #alex keller #alex keller x reader

[luvrxbunny]

so much

pairing: bf!Miguel O’Hara  x f!reader

summary: You give Miguel a handjob for the first time.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, handjob, lots of cum (lmk if i forgot anything)

wc: 2.1k

a/n: i blacked out again. 

Miguel stopped kissing you maybe fifteen minutes ago. He said he was getting too worked up and that you guys should stop, of course, you respected his wishes. You’re both now sitting in bed, he’s reading and you’re supposed to be doing some extra research but all you can focus on is the bulge in his pants. 

This happens a lot, you guys get heated and Miguel stops everything. It’s been six months and you’ve never seen him cum. You’ve told him you love him, he’s made you cum with his fingers and his mouth but you’ve never seen him cum. It doesn’t bother you too much, you just assumed he wasn’t a very sexual person, although you are and you love pleasuring your partner, you love him more. So you decided you could deal with it, but then you noticed that he would get hard, quite hard, and just not let you help him. You’ve offered many times and he always protests, saying “It’s fine, it’ll just go away.” 

Once he even went into your bathroom for it. He chose to get himself off instead of just letting you do it. You tried to ask Jess about it but she says that Miguel doesn't talk about that stuff, all she knows is that he’s definitely not a virgin. So your last option to understand is to just ask him. So you do. 

“Miggy?” His head comes up from his book to look over at you, peeking over his glasses like a librarian, making you chuckle. “Um… You- You’re—” You start the sentence but soon realize how awkward this conversation could be. You try and figure out ways to piece it together as Miguel sits up straight, closes his book, and takes his glasses off, giving you his full attention. Now that he’s straightened himself out he’s looming over you a bit, making you even more nervous. 

“You’re still… hard..?” It comes out as a question more than a statement and mumbles more than words but he understands you. He clears his throat awkwardly as you slowly close your laptop and cast it aside. “Y-yes, I am.” He’s looking around the room now, his eyes avoiding yours. 

“Okay. So do you not like handjobs or something? I just- I know that you’ve gotten something before I just don’t- I don’t know why you won’t let me.” You’re looking at him as you speak, he’s looking at the duvet, and from the corner of your eye, you swear you see his dick jump in his pants. 

“Cariño… I-” He takes a deep, slightly frustrated breath and looks up at the ceiling, trying to figure out how to explain himself. “I want to… Tan jodidamente mala but… you’re different.”

(“... So fucking bad but…”)

Insecurity spreads through your body at his words. Your mind is already racing, trying to decipher what he could mean.   

What the fuck? How am I different? Oh god, is he not even attracted to me sexually? Maybe I’m not his type. Is there something I’m missing? Maybe it’s something that he’s into, maybe I just need to get into whatever that is? Unless it really is just me that’s the problem…

“I love you so much…” The words instantly relax you. You believe him when he says it, but his tone implies that it’s a bad thing. “I’ve never felt the way I feel about you for anyone else. So-” He sighs again and runs his fingers through his hair. “So I’m- I’m more sensitive… when- when it comes to you.”

Arousal pools at the bottom of your stomach as you process his words. ‘More sensitive’

The thought that he hasn’t wanted you to touch him because it would feel too good has you leaking between your legs. 

He’s silent as you process, he’s waiting for you to laugh. But when he looks over at you you’re looking up at him with those eyes. The ones that always have him hardening in his pants before you have to say anything. The ones that he pictures on late nights when he can’t sleep. The ones that burn into his eyelids as your name falls from his lips and he cums all over his sheets… Those eyes. 

He huffs out a breath and shakes his head, denying you before you can even propose your suggestions. “No, cariño. I- It’s embarrassing.” He protests but his voice is getting breathy, arousal leaking its way in as he watches you seat yourself by his knees, facing him. Your hand is placed on his upper thigh which has begun to twitch under your touch. “We can’t, I can’t. Habría mucho también.”

“Mucho?” You question, only understanding some of what he said. “A lot, what?” You’re focused on his face, watching it contort as he whines at the Spanish that rolls off your tongue. Your hand has begun to massage his thigh, you can feel the fabric pull tighter with every pulse of his cock. Your hand slides up, closing in on where he wants you the most. His head falls back against the headrest as pleasure shoots through him. 

You can tell he’s being honest with his reasoning as you watch him. He’s letting out tiny moans, little whines like you’ve been teasing him all day but you’re just massaging his thigh. You keep it up, just groping his twitching leg as he tries to hold his moans in so he can answer you. “C-cum, habría tanto semen.” His hips start thrusting off the bed, barely noticeable.

(“C-cum. there would be so much cum.”)

“Yeah? You’d cum so much for me, Miggy?” You move from your spot, throwing your leg over him, straddling his thighs as you begin to palm his dick. His eyes roll back into his head as moans rip from his throat. He quickly grabs your wrist, roughly, stopping all your movements. His head raises to look at you. 

“I’m- I’m a bit… nervous, cariño. It would be a lot for me. I- No one has ever seen me like that. I’m only like this for you, I- can’t help it." His eyebrows furrow, and he huffs at a breath, like he's angry at himself. "I don’t want you to think it’s… extraño, anormal, or that I’m- I don’t know.” You can see the genuine concern on his face, and the fear in his voice as he anxiously rambles. 

("... strange, abnormal,")

“Miguel…” He whines at how you say his name, you smile brightly and fondly at the sound. “I love you. In a way I didn’t even know was possible. I’m never going to think you’re-  like, weird or something. At least not in a bad way. I-” You sigh gently and look into his eyes, you wrench your hand out of his grip and place it on his face, pulling him in for a soft kiss that he whimpers into. You pull away and give him the most serious look you can manage. “We don’t have to if you’re too nervous but if you’re worried about what I’ll think? Please don’t.”

He holds your gaze, considering your words for a moment. “But there’s mucho, cariño. No importa lo que yo haga. When- whenever I think of you, there’s… so much.” He tries to express his concern but you really don’t understand.

("No matter what I do.")

“Miguel.. That just- That just turns me on even more I- I don’t see why that’s a bad thing.” You speak honestly, watching his face shift into a mix of pleasure and confusion as his head falls back again. His hips press into the air, his legs spread, opening himself up for you as a pathetic “Por favor” falls from his lips. 

You spring into action immediately. You pull his pants low enough for his cock to fly out, instantly standing straight, hitting and staining his shirt. A hiss falls from his lips as you wrap your hand around him, and his head comes up to watch you. His eyes are watery as they stare at your little hand around his huge cock. You’re watching him, you don’t move yet, you can see him taking in every detail, committing the scene to memory before meeting your eyes. 

“Ready?” You ask him with a devious smile on your face. He nods vigorously, “Sí, estoy... estoy tan lista, cariño. Por favor.”

(“Yes, I'm... I'm so ready, honey. Please.”)

You run your hand up his cock, swirling around the head before meeting the base again. His reaction is instant and extreme. His hands leave your hips for the bed as his claws rip into the sheet. His body is already shaking as tense, short, and quick moans fall from his lips. All his muscles are pulled tight as you slowly run your hand over him. His eyes are wide, staring at your hands as they pleasure him. 

You’re mesmerized by his cock, red, hot, and pulsing in your hand as you stroke him. Pre-cum is spilling from his slit at a consistent pace, making him all wet and sloppy. You hear his head hit the headboard again as his moans grow more unrestrained, shouting out into the open air. “I- I-’m not- Can’t” He lets out a frustrated whine that morphs into a genuine moan before he tries to speak again. “No voy a durar. Joder, tus manos son el paraíso, cariño. No voy a durar mucho, no puedo-”

(“I’m not gonna last. Fuck, your hands are heaven, honey. I won't last long, I can't-”)

You can’t understand the words but based on how frantically he says them, the way his hips have started thrusting up into your hand gently and the way his legs are spreading themselves wider underneath you are good clues. “You’re gonna cum, Miggy?” You finally look away from his saturated cock to observe him. His face is flushed, as he nods at you desperately. He tries to moan your name at you but he can’t form the syllables. You love it. Seeing him like this, wet and aching for you. This is definitely going to become a daily thing. 

“Yeah? You promised me a lot, hermoso. I want it all. Give it to me, baby.” He fully shouts your name at the Spanish pet name. He grunts pathetically as he lifts his hand from the bed, willing his claws to retract so he can touch you. His hand squeezes your hip desperately, shaking as his moans quickly rise in pitch and volume. Your eyes are focused back on his erratically twitching cock, you don’t see his head lift to look at you.

He’s cumming the moment he can see your face. 

You stroke him as fast as you can, listening to his breathy sob as his cock shoots out heavy ropes of cum. He’s watching your face, trying to gauge your reaction through his cloudy eyes. You’re watching his cock in awe, his cum runs over your hand, coating your fist as you jerk him through it. He’s nothing but a bundle of gasps, moans, and sobs as his cock spurts out a whole new load. He watches your face as it morphs from disbelief to burning arousal, your breathing speeds up the longer he cums. He can hear whines start to slip out of you as his hips jerk into your hand. You tear your eyes away from the cum pooling around and coating his cock just in time to see his eyes shift from you to the back of his head. He lets out one last drawn-out wail before his hips rest back on the bed. His cock begins to soften, spurting out tiny ropes as you stroke him softly, helping him down. You try to get the raging fire in your stomach and the flood between your legs under control before getting up for a towel. He was right. There was so much.

You wipe him down as he whines and mumbles deliriously until you hear a little sob and he reaches out for you. You throw the towel to a corner of the room as he pulls you into his chest. He whispers what sounds like thanks and praise into your hair as you kiss his chest. 

“Gracias, cariño. Eso- eso se sintió tan bien, te sentiste tan bien. Te amo.” You giggle at him gently. “You’re welcome and I love you too, baby. You know I can’t understand most of what you said, right?” You feel his chest rumble with a chuckle before he speaks again. “I- I know, it's just… El inglés se me hace difícil. Yo olvido. I- I’m” He laughs at himself. “You get my head all mixed up, cariño.” 

(“Thank you love. That- that felt so good, you felt so good. I love you.”)

(“English is difficult for me. I forget”)

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Oh really?” You say in a playful tone as he chuckles at you. You turn and pull him in, his lips just inches from yours. “Me encanta eso.” You had to pull all your Spanish I classes together to figure that sentence out but the reward is worth it. Miguel’s eyes widen and he gasps before smashing his face into yours, you can feel his wide smile against your lips as he kisses you and you’ve never felt happier. 

(‘I love that.”)

thank you so much for reading!! please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all! also if you liked it please take a look at my masterlist!

#miguel o’hara smut #miguel smut #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara #miguel x you #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara spider man #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 miguel o'hara #2099 #sm 2099 #miguel 2099 #marvel 2099 #miguel o hara #astv miguel #miguel atsv #luvrxfics #luvrxsmut

[neo-nomatrix]

Hate the AM, Hate the PM, But love you

Hobie Brown x reader

word count: 969

find the mini series here

tags: @maxjesty @marshallowy @sh-tposter2021 @ilovebhna @ladyagagaslefttoe

synopsis: Hobie is still a slightly infuriating neighbor, but there’s something about that jacket and guitar that are all too familiar.

a/n: DRUNK CONFESSIONS!! Part two of this fic. I wasn’t going to write another part to it but i caved 😔

You stood him up. You fucking stood him up. Hobie spent the entire show looking out into the crowd, ignoring the blinding stage lights, to try and find you. But you were nowhere to be found. He asked so nicely too! Despite his nonchalant attitude it took him so long to build up the courage to ask you out. He had dinner reservations planned, which he has obviously never done, looked up places to get a Mr.Whippy and even found a small secluded area where he could play his guitar for you.

The worst part is how it made him feel. He genuinely liked you and it hurt him to think you didn’t feel the same when he thought you did. So what was his solution? Go out with his mates to a pub until 3 am to drink his feelings. Hobie was a bold drunk, bolder than he usually is. He’s also a sloppy drunk, tripping when he walks and slurring his speech like it’s all one word.

You’re peacefully sleeping in your bed with your spiderman eye mask cuddling with your Spider-Punk plushie. It’s not a random occurrence to hear Hobie stomping his boots late at night but it was different today. You heard his boot buckles dragging across the floor and a loud bang against your door. Not necessarily a knock, more of a body slumped against the wood.

“Love! You in there?!” You hear him yell.

You try your hardest to ignore him but as he keeps yelling and pounding against the wood you start to feel sorry for everyone else on your floor. You force yourself out of bed and towards the front door. As you reluctantly open it a drunken Hobie falls into your flat.

“Hobie get your arse up,” you roll your very tired eyes.

He surprisingly agrees and makes his way to your bed.

Great, you think

He tosses his guitar to your couch and gets into your bed like it’s his. Conveniently throwing the spider-punk plush off the bed. He cuddles up with your blanket and closes his eyes. You cannot let him fall asleep.

“Hobie! Hello? That is my bed. Get out!” You yell at him.

“Why’d you do it?” He whispers.

“What,” you ask, still annoyed.

“You stood me up. I asked you to come to my show and you didn’t. Why,” he asked less of a question and more of a statement.

You sigh, of course you knew that was tonight. In all honesty you don’t quite know why you didn’t go. You weren’t doing anything special and it probably would’ve been nice. But you were scared. Scared of what? You also didn’t know that, you just were.

“I… I don’t know,” you admit.

“Really hurt me, Love. I wanted to see you and take you out on a nice date,” he looked away from you.

Your heart shattered. You knew Hobie liked you but not to that extent. You thought he was just playing around with you and didn’t mean anything by it.

“I’m really sorry, Hobie. We should go out some other time, okay? My treat,” you promise.

“Nah, don’t think i’ll have the time,” He says, clearly less sad than he was a few moments ago.

“Oh yeah? Busy with what? Trying to tear down the government from the inside?” You laugh.

“Of course not, that’s for the first saturday of every month. I’ll be busy being Spiderman,” he says, cuddling closer to your blanket.

You stop immediately. Your mind goes blank, the world around you stops. You’re suddenly much more awake than you have ever been. Hobie is… no you can’t even say it. The man you’ve hated ever since you had moved in was the person you loved more than anything else? That can’t be right, he’s having a laugh. That’s gotta be it.

“I don’t believe in comedy,” you remember him saying.

Fuck. He’s not joking, is he?

“What?” you manage to get out.

“I’ll be busy, being spiderman and all. Yknow who that is right? Don’t know if you noticed but he’s- i mean I’m kinda all over your room,” he lets out a drunk giggle.

He pulls out his mask from the pocket of his jacket and handed it to you.

“See?”

You grab it in disbelief. You run your hand over the spandex in awe. Spiderman is right in front of you, you realize.

Oh. My. God. SPIDERMAN IS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU.

You just can’t believe the man you’ve idolized for years was in your bed. YOUR BED.

Hobie takes the blanket off of him, lifting up his shirt to reveal his suit. Blue and fucking red material.

“I don’t believe in the labels though. It’s stupid,” He says in the most Hobie way possible.

“You’re a superhero,” you say, still a little shocked.

“No. No, don't say that. I'm not a hero, because calling yourself a hero makes you a self-mythologising, narcissistic autocrat,” He says. God even drunk he’s still a smart ass.

“So you still wanna go out?” He asks.

“What? I just found out you’re fucking Spiderman and that’s what you’re asking me? If I want to go out with you?” You respond.

“I mean what else is there to say? I already know you love me,” he nods to the spiderman memorabilia.

Even in this state he still leaves you speechless.

“Well- yeah I guess. We can go out,” you say slowly.

“Cool,” he nods.

He lifts up the blanket and scoots over, inviting you into your bed with him. You roll your eyes and get in with him. He wraps his arms around you and smiles.

“I knew you wanted to snog me from the start,” he laughs.

Hobie is still pretty infuriating, but that is slowly becoming one of your favorite things about him.

#spiderverse x reader #spiderman x reader smut #spiderman atsv #spiderman x you #spiderman x reader #hobie my beloved #hobie x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x you #spiderpunk x y/n #spiderpunk x reader #spider punk #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv x reader #marvel x reader #spiderman #spiderman x y/n

[lisired]

can you keep it down?

pairing: neighbor!mark x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, dilf!mark, oral (m receiving), throat fucking, choking, thigh slapping, forced submission, implications of brat taming (in progress), praise, degradation but it’s more like banter, unprotected sex (dont b silly wrap ur willy)

summary: The apartment next door to yours has been vacant for months. No one had gone in or out, not until your new next door neighbor moved in two weeks ago. Mark, a slightly older guy who prides himself on his patience and willpower with a penchant for control. But when you make it clear you’re resolved to wither away the things he values most, Mark decides he’s down for the challenge, determined to put a leash on your unrestrained behavior - and most importantly, finally shut you the hell up.

word count: 10.4k

a/n: 4/4 of the Temptation series. feedback is appreciated!

The first time you met Mark, it was right outside your door. 

It was late at night - debatably early in the morning - and you had been in the middle of bringing yourself to the third consecutive orgasm in a row when loud knocking interrupted you. Part of you was tempted to ignore whoever was determined to beat down your door, but it was ceaseless and frankly, you were growing annoyed. 

Swiftly you slipped on the closest pair of shorts and marched to the front door in large strides, swinging it open once you finally arrived. Then, your eyes met Mark’s. 

He was a mere stranger to you then. But what you saw made you want to know him. What you saw made you nearly forget that you were on the brink of orgasm only moments ago. A pair of beautiful brown eyes stared back at you. 

“Hey,” he greeted, voice gruff. “Sorry to bother you, but can you keep it down? I live right next door and with all the noise I can’t sleep.”

For a moment you only blinked, processing his words slowly. You weren’t aware that you were being that loud. But then again, you were in no state to properly register your actions - you were delirious with pleasure and had blocked everything else past your senses. 

When you finally processed his statement, your cheeks burned, slightly embarrassed. “Fuck. I’m so, so sorry, I had no idea. I’ll try to be quieter from now on.”

He gave you a courteous nod and replied, “No worries. Have a good night.”

“You, too.”

And that was it. When you shimmied back out of your shorts, you didn’t even feel energetic anymore, only overcome by exhaustion and the burdensome fact that you had work in the morning. You groaned and flopped against your bedsheets, letting sleep swallow you whole. 

But the image of your new neighbor was reoccurring. There was something familiar about him, like you had seen him once before. And there were things you noticed right off the bat about him. For one, he was an older guy. Not old, but evidently beyond your years. And if the shorts he wore was any indicator, he was likely a father. 

That made the chain of thoughts about him increase, and you didn’t even know his first name. There was instant intrigue and desire to get to know your new, next-door neighbor. 

Though visions died quick, and dreams were killed even quicker. When you saw Mark swallowing some girl’s face only moments before she left his apartment on your way to work some days later, you rationalized yourself and decided to take it steady. It was certain that you were sure of what you wanted, but you respected his relationship. You were a great deal of things - delusional and a homewrecker weren’t on the list. 

The second time, it was when you least expected it - at a local cafe. 

Mark sat across from you, coffee cup in hand. Awareness of someone’s sudden presence made you shudder, and it slightly soothed you when you realized it was your hot neighbor. Your heart was still beating fast. 

You played it cool. “Are you stalking me, neighbor?” 

Amused, your neighbor let out a chuckle that was like music to your ears. “My name is Mark,” he introduced himself, smiling blithely. “And don’t flatter yourself, neighbor. I saw you here coincidentally and sat here because I had one good question for you.” 

With an eyebrow arched, you casted Mark an identical smile. It amused you that he spoke to you as if you had been long friends, though you didn’t mind. You had been intrigued by Mark the moment you first laid eyes on him, and had been incapable of taking them off him since. 

“Mark,” you said, tasting his name on your tongue. You played along and bobbed your head after a few moments, deciding you liked his name and gave him yours. “What do you have to ask me, Mark?” 

Mark leaned over the table, voice an octave above a whisper as he asked, “Who’s fucking you so good that you can’t be quiet?”

He leaned back out and eyed you smugly when you blinked in surprise. His bluntness had caught you off-guard and he was proud of it, but you refused to not quickly recover.

Feigning indifference, you replied, “No one. Most of the time it’s just me and my toys. I have a hectic work schedule so it’s rare for me to find time to mess with people.” 

Much to your misfortune, it was true. Working a busy office job meant that you had little time for even short-lived flings or one-night stands, much less the commitment of a serious relationship. It was difficult to recall the last time that you had gotten laid. With work taking such a humongous toll on you, your only way of relieving all of your pent-up frustrations was with sex toys. 

That response was a clear shock to Mark, and in return you took pride in it. He was expecting you to be taken, but now that you had essentially implied that you weren’t dating anyone, he felt free to make a move on you. It was an indirect way of asking you if you were single. He also didn’t expect the same girl that flushed red when he confronted you about your noisiness to meet his boldness, but it was a welcome surprise. Mark could tell only fun things would come out of knowing you and becoming your neighbor. 

Mark took a long sip from his cup, then asked, “What do you do for a living?”

“I work a variable job as an executive assistant that spends an ungodly amount of time behind a computer screen doing everyone else’s job for them,” you smiled tiredly. 

He threw you a playful grimace and glanced at his watch for a split-second, but you had his undivided attention again in no time. “Damn, no wonder. You must like things rough.”

That took you by surprise, but you didn’t dare show it. “You have no idea,” you grumbled, playing it safe. “What about you?”

Mark grinned with pride. “I’m an editor for a publishing company.”

“Must be fun.”

“I can’t complain. It’s a stress sometimes, but it pays the bills.”

You chuckled. “Amen to that.” 

It felt forbidden to be interested in your potentially taken neighbor that you only met a couple of days ago, yet here you were talking to him about your sex and work life. To make matters worse - and if that comment about you liking things rough was any indicator - you might have somehow also piqued his interests. 

Maybe you were just reading too much into his words. After all, you were his noisy neighbor that kept him up at night. He was probably just curious as to why you seemingly made enemies with silence. 

Mark glanced at his watch again then rose from his seat, and you figured he had places to be. “I’d better get going. I have to pick up my son.”

“Your son?” you questioned, furrowing your brows. The confusion was fake, of course. You had a hunch that he was a father, but you had never seen or heard the child to confirm your suspicions. 

“Yes, my son,” Mark gave you a hard stare that you couldn’t make out. “It’s Friday and he stays with me this weekend so please, if not for my sake then for his, keep it down.” 

You gave Mark a nod. He bid you farewell and made a break for the door, the chime of the bells letting you know that he was gone. He had wanted to stay for a bit, play for a little longer, but decided it was a good thing he didn’t get much of a chance to make a move. For now, Mark was intent on observing you. He wanted to figure you out a bit more before he went to first base. 

But damn was he interested. There was something about you a couple of moments ago that he was attracted to, how you seemed equally bold as he was. A stark contrast from the first time he met you, but he figured that he had simply caught you at a bad time. 

That was the thing, though - Mark didn’t know you. He needed more time before he could be sure you were worth it.

For at least the weekend, you obliged Mark’s wishes. As aforementioned, you were a great deal of things, but you weren’t petty for the wrong reasons. Or outright odd. It wasn’t like you were loud for the sake of it, you truly just never realized what you were capable of. 

Over the course of those days, you continued to think about Mark. He had cut deep in your imagination and now there was a permanent scar that refused to heal. It was silly, being so hung over a guy you hardly knew and couldn’t have, but you couldn’t help it. 

Mark was giving you a headache. You weren’t one to be indecisive over what you wanted, but that wasn’t the case here. From the moment he showed up at your doorstep, you knew that you had to have him. The problem was that you wanted to outline boundaries. There were places you were able to step and then there were places you weren’t. The last thing you wanted was to scare him away because of your urges. 

The third time you saw Mark was the following weekend, bumping into him in the halls. You were going to apologize, but then his face fell into your vision. And thus, you noticed something completely new about it. 

“You have a stubble,” you commented, nearly gawking. 

Mark bobbed his head, grinning. He found it interesting how you gazed up at him as if you’d never seen a man with a stubble before. “Yeah. That’s what happens when you don’t shave. Shocking, I know.” 

“I kind of like it.”

He snickered. “Only kinda?”

More than kind of - and while you weren’t afraid to admit it, you ignored his question. The stubble was the completion to Mark’s physical attractiveness that you hadn’t even known you would be into. He was already hot as hell, though now he was somehow even hotter. 

He shot you a smug smile, unable to miss the way that you leered at him. You found him attractive. It was no secret and Mark wasn’t sure if you intended for it to be or not, though the way that you were unabashedly fucking him with your eyes gave him a huge hint. After last weekend’s encounter, you didn’t strike him as the type to shy away very easily. Confident. 

So was he. 

“You’re just standing here watching me like you want to eat me. Do you like it that much?” 

There were a couple of routes you could take with that question. Either you could be honest and tell him how you felt, or you could beat around the bush. You chose the former. 

“Sight for sore eyes,” you replied, finally meeting his eyes. He held eye contact with you as well as the expectation that you would break, but you proved him wrong. You kept looking him in his eyes as you said, “I love it. I think it suits the fuck out of you.”

Mark raised a brow, intrigued by your response. “Mm,” he hummed. He moved a step closer to you and asked, “What else do you like?” 

Your breath began to speed up and so did your pulse when you picked up on how close your bodies were. You were hyper aware of the proximity and it was slowly killing you, setting off visceral reactions in your body. Another inch and his lips would be brushing yours. It felt like a test on your behalf - to see how you would react and if you would chicken out - and you utterly refused to back down from the challenge. 

Deflecting, you tore your eyes from his lips and asked back, “Initiating a conversation with me in the middle of the hallway?” 

He cocked his head to the side. “Do you wanna come in, then?”

“I don’t think your girlfriend would like that very much,” you faked a pout, the most subtle sullen undertone hiding in your sentence. 

Mark resisted a grin. It was probable you were indirectly determining whether or not he was single. But the tiniest hint of sadness in your voice suggested that you might have genuinely been under the impression he was in a relationship. 

“What girlfriend?” He threw you an utterly confused look. “I haven’t been in a relationship since the birth of Christ.” 

You stared at him with genuine surprise. “I saw you sucking some girl’s face like last week.” 

“And have you seen her around here again since?” Mark scoffed, amused. 

What he was implying began to sink in gradually and you realized that you had made an awfully large assumption the other day. Though in your defense, people making out with their hookups like that was completely unheard of to you. It looked too passionate, especially for the morning after. When you had nothing to quip, Mark made a face at you that made you want to sink into the ground, and added, “She’s not my girlfriend - she was a fling. We had sex the previous night but I’m sure you weren’t able to tell because unlike someone, I know how to be quiet.”

Was. That meant not any more. 

Affronted, and refusing to take that, you took a step back and shot, “Maybe your dick game is just weak if she’s that quiet.”

“You wanna find out?” Mark cocked his head to the side with an exasperating smile, taking a step forward for every step you took backwards until your back hit a wall. It was obvious that you were trying to get a rise out of him and he wouldn’t take the bait. “Don’t knock it until you try it.”

Mark’s hands were on either side of you and his gaze rooted you in place. Neither of you seemed to give a damn that you were in public and in the view of a security camera. You kept staring at one another, pupils dilated with obvious want. Now that you were aware that Mark was single you deemed it perfectly safe to cave in to your desires, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to - yet. It was funny how whenever you finally got what you wanted, it was never enough. 

You smiled softly, matching the little smirk on his face - you didn’t want him to think that he had an advantage over you, and whether he did or didn’t wasn’t relevant. “Are you saying that you want me?” 

“I do want you,” Mark confessed without a care. He had no true intention of sleeping with you just yet, wanting to get to know you some more, but it wouldn’t hurt to admit that he was attracted to you nonetheless. “Do you want me?”

Seductively, you leered at him, then purred, “So bad.”

“Then, stop deflecting.”

With one little breath, you said, “Fine,” then closed the tiny gap between the both of you and your lips. When he kissed you back, your hands sought for his neck and his hooked around your waist. 

As you kissed Mark it only became more fierce, tongues and teeth clashing in attempts to maintain dominance over the other. Yet neither of you would cave. Both of you were fighting fire with fire and it was like nothing that either of you had ever experienced before. Mark displayed a clear need for power and control, and while you weren’t against letting him have it, you were never one to give it away that easily. 

You tugged on Mark’s hair, wanting to feel him as close as possible. His calloused hands began to wander all over you, kneading your skin and making you moan softly into his mouth. You could feel him grinning against your lips. His touch was like fire and your body was already burning with lust, desire, and everything in between. It had been so long since someone last touched you like this, kissed you like this. Mark was filling in all the little gaps and empty spaces. 

A rough pull at his locks made Mark groan into your mouth and he pinned your hands above your head, up against the wall. He got rougher, as if he was trying to fit you into the wall - or maybe force you through it. But the fervor was welcome, and although he had pinned your hands above your head, you still kissed him with as much eagerness as you were humanly capable. 

You pulled away when you had your fill, knowing that if you kept him close to you any longer you would make a move for his clothes, and your exhibitionism kink only extended so far. The both of you stared at one another with sheer lust, but there was an almost telepathic understanding between you. We have to wait. 

Out of breath, you casted Mark a flirtatious wink and smile before parting and said, “See you later, Mark.”

Then, you sashayed back to your apartment. When you felt his eyes boring holes into your back, you simpered to yourself. You had planted the seed; now all you had to do was let it grow. 

Days of messing around with Mark turned into weeks, but both of you were yet to succumb to your temptations. It was like you were waiting for the other to give in first and neither of you wanted to grant the other that satisfaction. 

But of course, after planting the seed you had to water it and give it sunshine. In other words, you continued to flirt with Mark, maintaining his interest. And in return, he maintained yours. From anyone else’s point of view it might have seemed silly to be resisting each other when it was clear as day that the lust was mutual, but you and Mark were too alike. Too much pride, and too much adoration for all things thrill and tension.

Even when he wasn’t in your company, Mark was on your mind. It had only gotten worse the moment you kissed him. In the beginning you only thought about him occasionally - mostly whenever you saw or heard him - but now he was creeping into your head during your downtime and that was a problem. Your thoughts consisted nearly completely of him. Mark, Mark, Mark. He was all you could think about. 

One weekend, you surprisingly encountered Mark at a playground. He appeared shocked to see you, but only let it show for a brief moment.

“I’m beginning to think that you’re the one stalking me. What in God’s name are you of all people doing at a playground?”

“Please. You’re not that special. I don’t have the time or energy to stalk anyone, baby,” you drawled with a hint of amusement. You pointed at a little girl. “You see that little girl in the purple shirt on the slide? That’s my niece. I’m babysitting her for my brother and sister-in-law. Today’s their anniversary and they wanted peace.”

Mark bobbed his head, understanding. “Of course. You can’t have any of that around a child. How old is she?”

“Just turned six about a week ago.” 

“Around my son’s age,” he remarked, then pointed towards the set of swings. A couple of children played over there, but only one young boy was in the group. And he looked almost just like someone you knew. “He’s right there on the swings. Six, but he’s nearing seven.”

He was absolutely adorable. You were already thinking about play dates between him and your niece. She was lovely and enjoyed meeting new people, bless her pure heart. 

You smiled softly with awe. “Stole your whole face. There’s no way in hell you could deny that boy.”

Mark snickered, shoulders shaking. “Damn right. My little mini-me,” he sighed happily. He took his eyes off his son for a split-second to glance over at you. You looked beautiful, as always. And you were watching your niece with so much intent and care that he doubted you had even snook a glance of your own his way. “Fond of kids?” 

“I babysitted throughout college,” you replied pensively. Reminiscent. “Believe it or not. I thought it was my calling because I was so responsible and the parents always praised me, plus it was a huge step towards individuality. Grew up with a lot of siblings and relatives, too, so I’ve always been around children.” 

Mark grinned, satisfied. That was the answer he wanted to hear. He was only curious because he was interested in you, and before he jumped too far ahead he needed to know what you thought about children. It was a relief that you had so much tenderness for and resonated so well with them. That gave him all the more reasons to want you by his side. “What about you?” he asked, adding when your face scrunched about with confusion, “Do you want kids of your own?” 

There was no reluctance in your answer, like you had already thought long and hard about the question before. “Someday. When I’m married and sure I’ve chosen the right person to settle down and have kids with. And when I have a less demanding job so that I’m able to take care of my family and spend time with them,” you said, smiling wistfully. “My parents were busy people. They weren’t around a whole lot so me and my siblings practically raised each other.” 

Mark gave you a look. One you could make out as pity. You thought his response would be predictable, but it caught you by surprise. “You don’t want to be pitied, do you?” 

You blinked, genuinely unsure of how to respond for a moment. Then you broke into a broad grin and said, “Nope.” 

“I feel for you anyways,” Mark gave a playful nudge to your side with his elbow. “And I think you have beautiful visions for the future. I can tell you’re gonna be a great mother.” 

You thanked him in a way that was positively bashful. For a while, you and Mark chatted about whatever the hell you wanted - topics in relation to the children, personal life, and everything in between. After the day you and Mark kissed, a more mutual effort to get to know each other blossomed. Mark told you everything there was to know about his job. Most of the time he worked from home without much need for overseer authorization, and set his own hours. As someone who loved being in control, it suited him. 

It was alarming that you had gotten so personal so fast. You had only known each other for a month, more or less, and only really began talking a couple of weeks ago. Yet you felt comfortable enough to share a certain level of information that you normally would conceal. 

You were becoming close in every sense of the word. The tension between you and Mark never fizzled out, it only seemed to grow more, and more, and more, until it would eventually explode in your faces. By then, you would have no choice but to confront it directly. You couldn’t wait. 

Mark wrapped his arm around your waist, and peered down briefly to look at it. Contact drove you crazy. You loved having Mark’s hands on you, even in non-sexual ways. 

He pulled you into him and asked, “How long are you keeping her?”

“Just until five. I’m taking her to her grandma’s after this,” you replied, shifting your gaze back to the playground. But a smug smile tugged your lips. “Why?”

There was a shine in Mark’s pretty brown eyes. It was almost five. Voice tickling your neck, he leaned in to say bluntly, “Because I wanna take you for a ride. Are you down?” 

You casted him an observant glance over your shoulder. What Mark wanted was clear, or so you thought, but you were in the mood for playing hard to get. As per usual. “Dunno. What kind of ride?” 

“The kind where we get in my car and go whatever the road and a full tank of gas leads us,” Mark shrugged. “It’s a yes-no question, doll. Are you down, or not?” 

Doll. That was new. You had reached the pet name stage, calling each other ‘baby’ a couple of times, but ‘doll’ was new. It also had you wishing that you were both alone so that you could do something about how badly you craved Mark in that moment. 

“I’m down. Meet me outside the complex at six?” You questioned, peering up at him yet again. You smiled when you met his eyes, unable to resist the urge. Mark made you feel good inside, all warm and gross. It was a delight to know you were still capable of feeling such a way. After all, it had been so long since the last time. 

Mark nodded and smiled back. “I will. Child-less, so that we can have peace of our own.” 

You giggled into his chest. You could smell his scent, and it was heavenly. 

At six o’clock, Mark was waiting for you downstairs like he said that he would be. And he was child-less. You both were. 

Ever the gentleman, he opened the passenger door of his car for you and shut it once you were completely inside. Of course, it took more than simple courtesy to impress you, but something about it was making you giggle. Something you couldn’t pinpoint.

Mark gave you a look once he settled in the driver’s seat. “What’s funny?” 

“Chivalry,” you sighed, smiling. “Apparently, it’s not dead.”

Mark was amused, but held back a snort. You were occasionally ridiculous, but just the right amount. He could tolerate it. 

As he gripped the steering wheel, the car jerked to live underneath his fingertips, and soon you were both rolling. You said nothing for a little while, Mark focusing on the road and you peering out the window. The silence wasn’t awkward, but he cut on the radio and began to hum the song that was currently playing. 

You glanced at him witheringly, but he was unbothered. Then, you teased with a grin, “Oh, yeah. Show out, Beyoncé.” 

“Stop being a hater,” Mark groaned, then went back to singing. 

After some moments of teasing, you were finally content and gave it a rest, relaxing into the leather seat. You were happy. If anyone had told you a month ago that you’d be in your new neighbor’s car listening to him sing songs from the radio, you would have called them insane. But you weren’t stupid and you knew better than to vulnerate yourself to a stranger. You told a couple friends about him and realized why Mark had seemed familiar - because he was. One of them knew Mark and was able to vouch for him, assuring you he was a good guy. That was why you felt so goddamn free. 

It was peaceful, being alone with Mark. Whenever you weren’t both determined to get into each other’s pants, that was. But there was none of that right now - only the scenery whirling by at the pace of the lightning, the radio prevailing over the silence, and Mark by your side. And you by his. It felt too damn nice. 

“You never answered my question that day.”

“Hm?” you gazed at him, confused. By his sentence and sudden will to ignite conversation, although you didn’t mind. “What question?”

Mark’s hand left the steering wheel and dropped to your thigh, which undoubtedly didn’t go unnoticed by you. He didn’t move it, but you couldn’t ignore his fingers on your skin. “I asked you, what else do you like?” 

“About you, or in general?”

He shrugged. “Whatever gets you talking.”

You gazed through the windshield, pretending to be pondering deeply. “Well, in general, I like a bunch of things. I’ve got a penchant for poetry and music. This tends to shock people, but parties aren’t my scene. I’m a more reserved person. I love the color blue.” 

“Why blue?”

“Because it looks amazing on me,” you winked. 

“Mm,” Mark glanced at you fleetingly through the rear-view mirror. That was when his fingers started moving, kneading your thigh. “What else?” 

“Hm, well,” you began, pretending to be unbothered by his touch. In reality, you were melting with every move. “About you, there’s a lot for me to like, too. You’re confident, smart, funny, sexy,” then you licked your lips and added, “And an excellent kisser.” 

Mark grinned, hand still massaging your bare skin. “What a sweet-talker you are. Keep going,” he whispered, then gave your thigh a little squeeze. 

But you were honest. There were too many things you admired about Mark that led you to becoming drawn to him in such a little period of time. Just as easily as he had been able to make you tell him things, you had persuaded him into opening up. There was still so much to learn about each other on deeper levels, but time was your best friend. For now, you decided that you would tell him what you already knew. 

“I like the way you put so much care and effort into what you love. I’ve heard you talk about your son, your friends, your job. You never neglect anything,” you confessed, smiling fondly as you recalled the conversations you’d had. “I like how we’re similar, too. I think that’s part of the reason why we feel comfortable moving so fast. We’re cut from the same cloth. We both know what we want and when and how we want it, and we’re not afraid to go get it. It’s like playing a damn game of tug of war whenever I’m with you.”

“Or a very calculated game of chess,” Mark added, shaking his head with amusement. 

You giggled. “But there’s something about you that’s so… alluring. I’m attracted to it. You’re a hardworking borderline control freak that’s unafraid of sincerity. I love it.”

“Romantic. I’m swooning,” he deadpanned, throwing you a playful glare. 

“And you’re the right amount of sarcastic.” 

“And that’s what gets you going?”

“Baby, please. If I could kiss you right fucking now, I would,” you admitted. 

Mark said nothing, but his fingers kept fondling with your flesh, and your breath kept getting out of control. He gave your thigh another reassuring squeeze, letting you know he heard you. 

Forest views took over. You pressed your fingertips to the window glass and watched as the rapid blur of scenes that once consisted of neon city lights turned green. Moss-coated branches replaced them, last rays of sunlight filtering through them as you neared the woods and the gravel roads turned to dirt. 

“Woods, very spooky. Are you gonna kill me and hide my body out here?” you asked him humorously, watching as he drove you through the wild.

Mark didn’t take his eyes off the road as he replied, “And dump it in the lake.” 

“Lake?”

He smiled. “You’ll see.” 

You did see a lake. Mark parked his car near some trees and once he helped you outside, led you down a trail until you reached a bridge. It was long and stretched above a medium body of water. Blossoming flowers lived in the grass and the scent was earthy. You stretched ever so slightly over the railing and saw yours and Mark’s reflection staring back at you. 

There were little fountains in the lake. Creatures made the water ripple and you watched with Mark’s arm wrapped around your waist as the smell and sound of nature filled your senses. Ducks pecked around the land edges of the lake in hunt of food. 

“It’s beautiful,” you exhaled in awe. The clouds and setting sun peered down on the water and you wished that you had your camera on your person. It was a sight too gorgeous to let become nothing more than a memory fading at the back of your head. 

Mark bobbed his head in agreement. The corners of his lips tugged upwards as he said, “It is. I come here from time to time whenever I need to clear my head. It’s a nice place that I’ve always wanted to share with someone.” 

“You trust me enough to share it with me?” you teased, palms on his chest as you gazed up at his face. “I mean, like what if I get arrested for tax fraud and every time you come here all you can think about is your old neighbor that got sent to prison for evading her taxes.” 

“Then, you better do your taxes, or else I’ll be right after you when you get out. For attempted murder.” 

You made a face of faux fear. “Shiver me timbers!” 

Somehow, Mark pulled you closer and gave you a kiss on the cheek. Any closer and you were sure he would be able to feel how fast your heart was beating. It was safe to say that you had a little crush on your neighbor. You wanted him to an extent that words couldn’t capture. 

There was something different with Mark. Linger was the perfect word to describe how his every action affected you. When he kissed you, you could still feel his lips on you moments afterwards. His every touch lingered on you, even the barest ones. You could taste him on you, his scent lingered on your body - it was too much. But Mark was too persistent. Even if you wanted to, and you didn’t, you couldn’t get away. 

Mark looked at you as if he wanted to kiss you, but to your misfortune, he didn’t. Instead his lips parted to say, “Watch the sunset with me.” 

Obediently, you turned to face the railing, which pleased him. He moved behind you and tightened his grip on your waist. 

The sunset was beautiful, even more so with Mark’s company. The two of you made conversation, all the while watching how the sky that was once a pleasant array of colors dulled a deep indigo. The sun descended below the horizon and its reflection in the water was replaced by the moon.

And you - the moonlight illuminated every inch of your face. Mark had always thought that you were gorgeous, but the moonlight made your beauty criminal. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer. 

“I can’t control myself anymore,” Mark growled. At first, you were confused, but when he whirled you around and pressed his lips against yours, you quickly understood. 

Mark backed you against the railing, cornering you. Kissing him was too much fun. It was the same battle, the same fervent effort to compel one of you to submit to the other’s touch, yet both of you always held out, keeping your white flags lowered. Mark had never met anyone that challenged him this much, and you had never met anyone so desperate to prove a point. 

When one of you pulled away, you not only were breathing heavily, but dangerously turned on. Your despires were no longer pure wants - they were needs. 

“Mark,” you exhaled through shallow breaths, “Please.” 

Mark cocked a brow, incredulous, yet amused. “You’re begging?” 

You nodded, casting him a needy glance that nearly made him want to give you everything you wanted then and there. It wounded your pride to beg him to do anything, but you weren’t necessarily above it anymore. Lust made you do anything - and it was flowing rapidly through your bloodstream. “Please, I want it.”

That much was entertaining to him, although Mark still didn’t want to give himself to you yet. It wasn’t that he wasn’t willing to have sex with you, but he wanted to bide his time. He wanted things a specific way and hooking up with you in his car simply wasn’t ideal. 

Mark shook his head. “I’m not fucking you in my car.” 

You pursed your lips and fought back the best way you knew how, huffing, “Why not? Don’t wanna fuck up your expensive seats? Car sex virgin?” 

“My first time was in the back of a car,” Mark told you matter-of-factly, being sure to smile in the most menacing way possible. It was only deserved for the way you left him that day that you kissed him. You wanted to kiss that stupid grin off his face, but you thought he didn’t deserve it. “And everything I wanna do to you can’t happen in a car. You’ve been patient all this time, baby, you can wait a little more.” 

“Ever the elaborate controlling perfectionist are you,” you drawled, faux aggravation to your tone.

Mark entwined his fingers with yours. “But you love that about me.”

“I never said that.”

“Oh? Must I remind you of your little love confession in my car earlier?” he teased. 

You rolled your eyes. “No, thank you. But I will be expecting a four-page love letter detailing everything you like about me in the mail signed ‘Markie Pooh’ soon. I like to be courted.” 

Mark gave your forehead a chaste peck, grinning as he joked, “I’ll enclose it with a kiss.” 

You giggled. 

Soon, Mark drove you back home and you were kissing him goodbye. It was a dramatic farewell, considering you lived right next door to him, but tonight had been magical and you were wondering where the time had gone. All you wanted to do was freeze time and kiss Mark on that bridge forever. 

But you were also sick to your stomach that he still wasn’t in your guts. And tonight, you had a plan that would undoubtedly make him snap and give you what you wanted. 

Last night, you gave yourself the release that your body was begging for, since Mark refused to fulfill your desires himself. And you made sure to be loud so that your intentions were obvious - ever since the last time he asked you to keep it down, you began doing an impressive job at suppressing your noises, muffling them into your pillow or biting your lip. But not last night. You called it being petty for the right reasons. That was what you were, and rather proudly. 

For a little extra flare, you moaned Mark’s name. As much as it was you being petty for the sake of setting him off, it was also a self-indulging experience. Fantasizing about your neighbor was what brought you to the edge quicker than anything, and you came harder than ever with the thought of him on your mind. 

Mark didn’t text you the following day. Usually, you would find time through your hectic work hours to chat, and you would spend the better half of your lunch break typing away at your phone, but it was radio silence. 

It was weird. Maybe you and Mark were alike in more ways than you thought, and he was also extremely petty. But for the wrong reasons, in your opinion. 

When you came home from work, Mark was standing outside his door, waiting. He leaned against it and stared you down. 

“Had fun last night?” 

Pretending to be oblivious as to what he was referencing, you played dumb and answered, “You mean, at the bridge? Of course. When are we going again?” 

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Mark chastised, glaring. “I heard you last night. You seemed like you were having a good time, you know, moaning my name and all like a slut.” 

Never had it ever crossed your mind that you would enjoy Mark calling you a slut, yet here you were, becoming more and more aroused the longer you pushed his buttons. With his commitment to patience, you typically never got much fun out of it, but right now he was approaching his limit and you were anticipating every second of it. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you replied, searching for your keys and acting as if you were paying him no mind. 

Mark wasn’t having any of it. For weeks you had all been all over each other, the mutual lust long-established, though now you were suddenly disregarding him and it was with one clear intention in mind. He wasn’t going to give in to your tricks, but he would play along with your little game. And he was going to win. 

The little remaining bits of restraint he had suddenly exhausted and Mark gripped your wrists, ignoring the sound of surprise you uttered as he dragged you into his apartment. The door slammed shut in your trail and he pushed you up against it, pinning your arms above your head as he began to kiss you with urgency. 

Kissing Mark was exhilarating. Whenever his lips were flush against yours, it was as if time stopped. Everything seemed to slow down but the dangerously rapid thud of your heart against your chest and the spreading wildfire in your body. You made an attempt to free your wrists from his seemingly tightening touch, writhing against him with desire to touch him, yet whatever strength you had Mark had more and you were unable to overpower his might. 

“Mark,” you exhaled, pulling away to catch your breath. “I want to touch you.” 

He hummed, an idea slithering into his brain. “If you want to so bad, then beg.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, slightly incredulous, yet the feeling dissipated when you remembered who exactly you were talking to. Scowling, you said, “I begged you once and now you’re getting too used to it.” 

“If you want to get your way when it comes to me, then you better start getting used to it. Now, do you wanna get your pretty little hands on me, or not?” 

You sighed. “I do.”

Mark gave you an expecting look. “Then, beg.” 

“You want me to get on my knees, too?” you deadpanned, shooting him a sharp glare that he seemed utterly unbothered by - and it exasperated you. 

The grin on his lips then was infuriating. “Don’t worry, you’ll do that later.” 

Ignoring the very obvious implication of those words, you made a face, but the look in Mark’s eyes when you met his gaze was so goddamn commanding. The dominance to his aura that you had been so intent on destroying was finally getting to you. 

“Please,” you whimpered, trying to ignore how pathetic you sounded. “Let me touch you, Mark, please.” 

Satisfied, Mark let go of your wrists and his lips immediately fell back on yours, the need to kiss you resurfacing. It was like resuming, pressing play and pause. There was something about hearing and seeing you beg - especially against your will - that he found so arousing. You were so resistant to his dominance and it was all too entertaining to see you finally succumb. 

Your hands raced to his shirt and with his own assistance, you hiked it above his head, hands flying to his chest afterwards. For a moment, your eyes opened to ogle at him, wallowing in the sight of his bare skin. Mark began to tug at your blouse and you both began to undress one another, leaving a trail of clothes behind you as you both headed to his bedroom. 

By the time you got to his bed, you were stripped down to nothing but your undergarments. Lying flat on your back, you watched as Mark took his sweet time to crawl over you. His hand moved at an agonizingly slow pace from your thighs, to your stomach, to your clothed breasts. You felt as if your breath was stuck in your throat as you anticipated what he would do next, and he finally leaned in your ear, whispering, “You do look good in blue.” 

He kissed you there for a little longer, heated and passionate, then pulled you up and said, “Get on your knees.” 

Submissively, you sank to the floor without a fight, which both pleased and surprised Mark. Though the little sly grin playing on your lips was a good enough indicator that you were planning something. And you were. Any other time you would have refused to listen to him without first making an attack on his pride, but you were skilled with your tongue and had a line of people you’d been with to show for it. 

You were resolved to make him unravel - and you would. 

The bulge of his dick was prominent through his underwear, of which you tugged down in desperate haste. You had wanted a taste of him for only God knows how long. 

His dick sprung against his stomach and by then your mouth was watering. You took him into your palm, smiling up at Mark as you began to leisurely pump him. Your efforts to tease him only became worse, intentionally letting your lips graze the head of his dick every now and then, giving him false hope that you’d finally get to the best part. 

“Don’t tease me, doll. You won’t like what’ll happen if you keep up,” Mark warned. 

“Punish me, Mark,” you said, smiling broadening. 

He wasn’t given the chance to respond before you took his cock into your mouth, a little grunt leaving his mouth instead. You were taking him into your mouth bit by bit, efforts to tease him still lingering. Mark grabbed a fistful of your hair and held it behind your neck. 

Mark, a man of patience, was beginning to lose the thing he clung to most. He used your hair to force you down on him some more. “Stop fooling around and take it, baby. Put your mouth to good use for once.” 

In pursuit of spiting him, you fooled around for a moment longer, though finally gave up contentedly after you figured that you’d frustrated him enough. Soon you were steadily bobbing your head up and down his length, cheeks hollowed, his fingers gripping your hair to control your movements to an extent. 

The wet sound of your mouth sucking his dick and his little noises of pleasure echoed throughout the bedroom. You smiled to yourself slyly at a thought you were having. Mark was a groaner. 

He sounded heavenly. You were quick to discover his weaknesses, catching on to how he became noisier. Mark wasn’t the loudest guy that you’d been with, fairly moderate, but he was still unable to hide the signs that said loud and clear you were making him feel good. You looked up at him through your eyelashes and saw how pleasure was written all over his face, lips parted and his eyes closing from time to time. 

That drove Mark borderline insane, you peering up at him like that - and you had already known that it would. At the end of the day, Mark was simply a man, after all. And you had men all figured out. 

“Good girl. Just like that,” he praised, pushing your head down a little more. 

Your fingers wrapped around the base of his cock and you stroked him all the while sucking him off, tasting pre-cum on your tongue. You could feel him twitching in your mouth and it was a pleasure. There was no denying he was close. 

When Mark noticed you slowing down in efforts to tease him, he was displeased and decided that he had enough of your schemes. The loosened, relaxed grip on your hair suddenly tightened and he began to thrust into your mouth, taking control. You were good with your mouth and able to take it deep, but the sudden movement caught you off-guard and you began to gag. 

“Just when I praise you, you decide you wanna be a little fucking brat,” Mark spat, pulling your hair again. “You just can’t listen, can you?”

You glared up at him, tears pricking your eyes, and the sight made him let out a laugh. He knew as well as the next person that you liked acting tough, but with tears in the corners of your eyes and a cock in your mouth, you looked nothing short of pathetic.

He shot you a withering look, adding, “You always act like you have the whole world in the palm of your hands. You try to get under my skin because you want to see me succumb to the same tricks you play on everyone else, but you know I won’t give an inch and you don’t know how to handle it. Wish you could see how pathetic you look when you shut the hell up and take my cock.” 

Right now you wished that he would shut the hell up, but oddly enough, his words were turning you on. You silently prayed that he wouldn’t catch on to how wet you were getting with every passing moment. 

Mark was close. His sentences became raspy, deep groans and his pace was relentless, merciless. Like he was trying to bruise the very back of your throat. It took everything in you not to choke out, but you refused to give him the satisfaction in seeing you in such a vulnerable state. He was already enjoying this too much. 

Mark groaned, “Fuck. You gonna swallow it, babe?”

As a way of saying ‘yes’, you hummed around his shaft and the vibration was making him lose his mind. You swiftly moved one of your palms to wipe at a streak of tears on your cheeks before he noticed. 

You doubted that he did. Mark was in another world, eyes closed as he was overcome by pleasure. The warmth and wetness of your mouth was everything and he was out of control, movements unrestrained. He came in your mouth with a grunt, giving your hair one last violent tug as his climax struck his body. You milked him dry, taking every bit of his cum in your mouth that you could possibly manage. 

There was a noise when you rolled him out of your mouth, looking him in his eyes immediately afterwards. Mark was breathless, and so were you, but he could only smile. 

You gave him a look, voice slightly hoarse from the throat-fucking as you asked, “What?” 

“Nothing,” he replied, smile unfaltering, but it was obviously something. “I’m simply enjoying the way you look with spit and my cum on your lips and chin.” 

You rolled your eyes and wiped yourself clean with the back of your hand. “And I was enjoying the way you looked like you were on the verge of losing your shit.” 

“Funny how you’re only quiet when you have a dick in your mouth.”

Wittily, you retorted, “Maybe I would shut up if you fucked me.” 

Instead of giving you an immediate response, Mark pulled you back onto the mattress, hovering above you as you lay flat on your back. “Mm-hm. That’s why you were moaning my name so loud last night, right? Because you wanted my dick?”

One of his palms slipped underneath the band of your underwear and you let out a little cry of surprise when you felt his fingers brushing against your arousal. You were holding in your breath. It had been so long since anyone had you like this and you were touch-starved, feeling completely deprived of sex and nearly the memory of what it was like. 

His free hand gave a loud, resounding smack to your thigh, and you yelped. “That was a question, doll.” 

“Yes,” you choked out. “Please. I want it so bad, Mark.”

“So wet, all for me,” he sighed with bliss. His fingers were now plunging inside your pussy, sliding in and out with ease. You hadn’t been this wet in ages. “How long has it been since you were last with someone?”

“I don’t know, like three months,” you guessed, not really wanting to think about it when his touch was all you could focus on. “A really long fucking time, basically.” 

Mark made a face, surprised. “No wonder you’re so damn needy.”

His teasing did nothing to help and you were quickly growing impatient. There was no need to explain why it had been so long, you were certain he already knew. With your work schedule there was rarely time to meet new people and you had no one to come home to. But Mark made it too goddamn easy, and considering how hard you worked, you could use a good fuck. 

“It’ll be a year by the time you fuck me,” you grumbled, impatient. What more did he want you to do? You sucked him off, begged, and yet he was still torturing you by resisting. It was like he was deliberately trying to get you to lose your goddamn mind, and knowing Mark, you wouldn’t put it past him. It was working. 

Mark said nothing, looking at you blithely. And hungrily. There was still a layer of clothes obstructing the view of your bare skin, and greedily his hands flew to the band of your underwear. You bit back a whimper at the feeling of being suddenly empty, but Mark tore your panties past your ankles, and your bra immediately followed as he tugged on the straps. 

The sight of your naked body had Mark’s dick throbbing and he swore then that you were Aphrodite. You were driving him past the brink of insanity. He had envisaged your body in his dreams and fantasies, though nothing could have prepared him for how beautiful you looked sprawled out on his sheets and he could only think one thing. Goddamn. 

That was it for him. He was still resolved to tease you to sheer hell, but he could keep playing your games while inside of you.

You made a tiny gasp when you felt the head of Mark’s cock prod your folds. The sight of your pussy was his kryptonite - you were dripping with arousal. You wanted him so badly and he wanted you just as much. He pushed the tip in with a raspy groan and made a couple slow, shallow thrusts. 

Then a couple turned into too many for you to count and you were becoming impatient. More than you already were. “Mark, hurry the hell up,” you grumbled. 

“Mm, no. I think I’ll keep going like this,” Mark teased. After the way you treated him only moments ago, he wasn’t the least bit sympathetic. “I told you, you weren’t going to like what happened if you kept teasing me. Now look.” 

Just like he said you wouldn’t, you weren’t liking this. He was agonizingly slow, not deep enough, and it was all deliberate. Karma was a fucking bitch. 

“Fuck you,” you spat, insincere. 

Mark was totally unbothered, seemingly paying you no mind as he replied, “That’s no way to talk to the man who you’re so wet for. Ask me nicely and maybe I’ll reconsider.” 

Holding back a groan in fear of his changing his mind about reconsidering, you tidied up the sentence you were preparing to say to him and fixed your tone. “Mark, can you please move faster?” 

“Don’t you sound so sweet when you ask like a good girl,” Mark sang. Before you could muster a response, he finally thrusted completely into you and you moaned. The way your pussy gripped him was his vice, and you stretched to accommodate his size. 

In no time he also discarded his formerly slow pace and adopted a new, speedier one. The way he was pounding you was so deep and perfect and you grabbed his shoulders, desperately needing something to cling to.

This type of experience used to only exist in your head. More often than not, you winded up touching yourself to the thought of the man before you as a way to cope with your stress and lechery. You would close your eyes and picture his dark hair matted by sweat, his face scrunched up with pleasure. You would imagine the noises that he’d make when he finally felt the grip of your pussy around his dick, the way your body responded to his every touch. It got you off too quick, tempting you to march over to his apartment and demand he finished the job. 

But you never did. You wanted to see him lose his patience - and you did. 

“Pussy’s so damn tight,” Mark groaned, which made you grin smugly. You knew that already. 

Mark leaned low and began to press soft kisses into your skin, his thumb brushing over your stiff nipples. He found you utterly beautiful, no flaw in his eyes. The breathy sounds you were making in response felt like hearing an angel. 

Although you were enjoying yourself, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing and said, “Don’t be gentle with me, baby.”

Mark smiled softly. “I don’t plan to be, doll.” 

When Mark was finished with your breasts, his mouth replaced them, beginning to latch roughly onto your neck. Which made you sigh out in bliss. The feeling of his teeth digging sharply into your flesh made you certain that he was going to leave Mark’s, and you were too fond of it. You wanted Mark to make you his. 

Everything was too much in the best way possible. You were intoxicated by the feeling of Mark’s bare cock between your walls, striking the sweetest parts of you. Your mouth parted in too-loud moans of his name. 

He gripped your throat, looking you dead in the eyes as he commanded, “Be fucking quiet.”

That made you clench around his length. At first, your eyes widened, but you recovered swiftly and your lips curled into a broad smile as you met Mark’s gaze. The look on your face right then made his cock twitch. 

“You like that, huh?” he asked, tightening the grip around your neck. You couldn’t get a single coherent word out, choking, but the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head was more than the perfect answer. 

Mark let go of your throat after a moment and began to watch the way your cunt swallowed him whole. It was satisfying to have you at his disposal like this. He was hell bent on taming you, no matter how many fucks it took; the more the merrier. He couldn’t get enough of the way you felt - warm, wet walls clamping tightly around his size - and he knew deep down that there was no way in hell this would be the last time. 

There was no going back. He was set on you; you on him. You were different from anyone he had ever been with before, you were a challenge. Brats were something he never thought he would be fond of, wallowing in the fact that most women bent to his will. But you caught onto his behavior fast and opposed it, resolved to break down his walls, and he was game. Mark never went down without a fight, though neither did you, and he liked it too damn much. 

Taming you was fun. It was something he never knew that he needed until you suddenly came into his life, providing him a little thrill and excitement on a silver platter. You were so much like him that it was all too easy to read you, to find out what made you tick. And making you feel defeated was what he got out of trying to put a leash on your wildness. 

Not too long after, you were moaning in a chant, “Mark,” his words forewarning you to be quiet going in one ear and out of the other. You couldn’t help it. It felt perfect. He was so deep and so thick, making you feel full. 

“Brat,” Mark hissed, shaking his head. But with how utterly disobedient you were he didn’t bother to scold you again, taking matters into his own hands by picking your panties and shoving them into your mouth. “That’ll shut you up.” 

There was an instant sound of protest and likely you cursing at him, considering how you narrowed your eyes at him, but there was no way for him to tell. Mark smiled tauntingly. “Can’t hear you, babe,” he said.

You raised your middle finger in a silent retaliation, but Mark retaliated back even quicker and lifted your hands above your head, pinning them down to the mattress. You felt so fucking powerless, yet Mark had so much power over you and your body. It wasn’t fair. 

It wasn’t long before you could finally sense your orgasm building up, a dam on the very verge of breaking loose. Everything felt otherworldly and you swore that you were no longer breathing. Like you were gone, but your body was still physically alive and well. Pleasure ripped through every last vein in your bare body and consumed it in its entirety, swallowing you in its mass. 

Mark’s pace was merciless, and when he moved one of his hands to wrap around your throat, so was the tight squeeze on both sides. It was damn near bruising and your eyes were fluttering, but you didn’t want him to stop. You were internally begging that he wouldn’t. 

Your panties fell from your mouth and you took the opportunity to ask with a struggle, “Can I please cum, Mark?” 

“Let go for me, babe,” Mark grunted, resisting the urge to comment on how pathetic you sounded asking for permission in your hoarse little voice. It came to him as a pleasant surprise, and a satisfying sound that left his dick throbbing. 

There was no need to tell you twice. You came with one last cry of his name, back arching as you began to come undone. It was explosive, your entire body reacting to the intensity of it. Your toes clenched and your pussy gripped relentlessly around his shaft. You swore that you were beginning to see stars. 

Mark pulled out and came on your stomach with a deep sexy groan, the sight and sound of you at your very climax triggering his own orgasm consecutively. His hands loosened their grip and set you free, and soon you were both lying flat on his bed, panting heavily. 

“So,” he began through shallow breaths, and you braced yourself for whatever he could have possibly said next. “How’s that for a weak dick game?” 

You glanced at him confused, then suddenly broke into a fit of laughter after you recalled what he was referencing. You had insulted his game. “I take it back,” you replied. “It’s alright.”

Mark raised a brow. “Just alright? Like I didn’t have to put your panties in your mouth because you wouldn’t stop screaming my name?” 

“I was not screaming.”

“You were screaming. And…,”

Before he could add anything else - and you knew he would, refusing to let you live anything that happened today down - you smashed your lips against his and carded your fingers through his hair, effectively shutting him up. Mark kissed back with joy, smiling against your lips. All of the other kisses that you two shared had consisted of rough, unrestrained attempts at dominating one another, but this was slow and sweet. It was gentle, and dare you say loving. 

“One more round?” you asked when you pulled away. 

Mark snickered. “Don’t tempt me, baby. If we start with one it might become two.”

You licked your lips and grinned. That was useful information. “Nope, I’m tempting you. Now give in.”

Mark gave your lips another kiss, but immediately became distracted once he caught another glimpse of the swell of your breasts. “Damn, baby,” he sighed contentedly, running his hands over the shape. “I just fucking might.” 

Temptations. Oh, how dangerous they were. But caving into them might have been the best decision you’d ever made - and Mark was living proof. 

He was your temptation.

#mark smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #mark lee x reader #nct imagines #mark lee imagines #mark lee smut #nct x reader #nct #nct scenarios

[2btheanswertothequestion]

Eddie's porn stash is a pretty conventional one. An 'if you've seen one stash you've seen them all' type. It basically only consists of skin mags, some of them kinky but most of them vanilla. Normal stuff.

The oddest thing in it is a two-year-old calendar. You know those sexy firefighter calendars? Usually a charity thing? A hit with the housewife crowd? Yeah. Except this calendar decided to branch out and include a bunch of sexy men from a bunch of sexy professions.

So, in this thing, joining the sexy firefighter is a sexy doctor, a sexy construction worker, a sexy police officer (whose month Eddie tore out and burned because fuck cops but don't ever fuck cops), a sexy librarian, and so on. They're all really good-looking, but none of them hold a candle to the paramedic.

It's weird. Paramedics aren't normally part of the traditionally sexy professions. It's messy and sometimes tragic, but lacks the high-paying glamour that doctors and nurses enjoy. Eddie's had his fair share of fantasies, and none of them involved fucking a paramedic.

Until two years ago.

The guy in the calendar simply is that hot.

There's not even anything risqué about his picture. None of the pictures go beyond "this dude is chiseled and shirtless", because veering even slightly past the softest softcore territory would scare off the little housewives or something.

(Eddie is actually pretty fucking sure it'd increase the sales, but hey, what does he know.)

The point is, there's nothing that obscene about the pic. Just a guy kneeling in the back of an ambulance, first aid equipment scattered between his powerful thighs, shirt open to reveal his sculpted torso…

Dark hair spanning across his pecs, over his abs, vanishing down his tight tight tight pants. Hips canting upward, bringing attention to the size of his bulge beneath the zipper. Broad shoulders, ripped arms and large hands, veins protruding across the back. A pretty yet masculine face, with a strong jaw and a straight nose, full lips, a smattering of moles going down his biteable neck. Voluminous, golden brown hair swooped away from his twinkling eyes.

He's got this look in them, this slant to his mouth. Like he knows he's the hottest guy in the calendar.

The one month everyone will go crazy for.

Eddie has become intimately familiar with that look. No joke, in two years it's made him crack his marbles more than anyone else has done in his quarter-century lifetime. When all else fails, November-paramedic has his back. It's basically his longest relationship to date, which sounds a lot sadder out loud (and it sounded fucking sad inside his head, too).

You might wonder why any of that is relevant now, as he sits on the curb outside of The Behemoth with blood trickling from his temple, his band giving their statements to one cop while another hauls away the snarling douchebag that clipped him. How does it play a part in this god-awful night out, you ask?

Well.

"Sir?"

Eddie startles, too caught up in the thudding inside his head, made worse by the buzzing crowd, to notice the man approaching him. He looks up, his gaze gliding past uniformed legs, muscular forearms, a curved neck and honeyed eyes appraising Eddie, and oh.

Oh God.

Eddie's breath sticks in his chest and his tongue becomes a cognate to sandpaper, because it's the paramedic.

It's the paramedic. From the calendar.

He's hallucinating. He has to be. He collapsed on the sidewalk, and now he's having one last weird sex dream before his brain finishes seeping out and he fucking dies.

November-paramedic crouches in front of him. Eddie continues to gape like he's getting ready to catch the peanuts no one is tossing at him.

"My name is Steve. I'm with the ambulance," November-paramedic says. "What's your name?"

Eddie makes a noise incomprehensible to most Earth cultures before his brain registers the meaning of the question and stutters out the answer.

"I- Uh- E-Eddie. It's, it's Eddie."

November-paramedic – Steve – smiles kindly. Heat prickles across Eddie's cheeks and neck. It's not the same as the cocky, sexy smile he's got in the calendar, but still. He's smiling. At Eddie!

"Hi, Eddie." He nods toward Eddie's temple. "That's an impressive cut you got there. May I take a look at it?"

"Yeah? Yeah. Um, g-go ahead."

As Steve sets down his bag and rummages through it, Eddie scours his face to confirm that it really is the guy from the calendar. To his chagrin, it is. There's no mistaking it. Those eyes, like liquid gold. That jawline, a weapon in its own right. Those moles, applied so skillfully it must've been by an artist's hand. That hair, coming straight out of a commercial for luxury shampoo. It's lying flatter than in the calendar, either lacking product or having sweated it out, but it's still glorious.

Steve, having finished washing his hands, tugs on a pair of disposable gloves. The plastic snaps against his wrist, sending a shiver through Eddie. It centers between his legs. Shit, if he pops a boner now…

"I'm going to ask you some questions, okay?" Steve says while pressing a square piece of gauze against the cut. "Do you know what day it is?"

"Eh, Thursday?"

"Do you know where you are?"

"The Behemoth."

Steve nods and, with a lopsided smile, asks, "And are you a patron or did you and your head injury just wander onto the scene?"

Eddie laughs. Loud, merry, and verging on too long. It wasn't even that funny. Steve seems pleased his joke was a success, though. Unless his smile is the uncomfortable kind that one wears when faced with the unhinged. Eddie isn't sure how much blood he's lost.

"No, I, like, my band…" he says, stammering like talking isn't what he does best. Jesus Christ, it's just a hot guy! Eddie has made a fool of himself in front of those plenty of times – no need to get flustered about it. He clears his throat. "We had a gig and, after, at the bar, some guys got into a fight. Got ugly, so we tried to leave, but… alas!" He makes a dramatic sweep of his arm, nearly clocking Steve. Steve expertly ducks away without lessening the pressure on the wound. Eddie soldiers on, not daring to pause lest he lose his steam. Hopefully his burning face is enough of an apology. "Fucker wasn't even aiming for me. He missed his intended target and struck me instead."

"Right. Did you lose consciousness after he hit you?"

"Nope."

"Good. Did you drink tonight?"

"Half a beer, at most."

"Do-"

"Eddie!"

Gareth's nasally voice cuts off Steve's question. The next second, he's materialized beside them with a slightly alarmed expression. "Dude, are you…!"

He trails off, eyes growing into dinner plates. There isn't that much blood, is there?

Steve looks Gareth up and down, a crease between his brows. "Is this your friend?"

"My drummer. Gareth."

Eddie half-expects Steve to demand Gareth leaves so he can do his job in peace, but nope. That kind, calm smile is back. He even gives him one of those little upward-nods 'cool guys' like to do.

"What's up, Gareth? I'm Steve; I'm with the ambulance. Just making sure Eddie won't keel over later tonight."

"Uh huh…" Gareth kneels opposite Steve. He's smiling too, but his is shit eating. Eddie frowns in confusion, because what does Gareth have to be happy about? He was freaking out right after Eddie got hit, but now he's staring at Steve like-

Oh.

He's staring at Steve.

No. Noooooooooo! Oh shit! Oh fuck! Oh why, why has he kept his porn stash in a drawer without a lock all these years?! He can't recollect the reason Gareth opened that particular drawer on that particular day – all Eddie remembers is how Gareth, Jeff, and Marv snickered when he explained the inclusion of the calendar.

That was it, though. They moved on. Sure, there has been the occasional roasting after the fact, but it's not like he hasn't also mocked them for their weird shit. But that's not the point. The point is that Gareth is staring at Steve like he recognizes him.

Gareth's attention flicks toward Eddie. Eddie shakes his head as subtly yet pleadingly as he can. Gareth's grin gobbles down another turd. Eddie makes a valiant effort to explode Gareth's eyeballs with his mind.

"Say…" Gareth turns to Steve. "Have we met?"

"I don't think so. Eddie, do you have a headache?"

"Yeah, man," Eddie says, voice trembling. "Hurts like hell."

"I could've sworn I've seen your face before," Gareth says. "Like, I'm 100% sure."

"Are you dizzy or nauseous?" Steve asks, ignoring Gareth.

"Um, a little dizzy but no nausea?"

"Hmm, okay. Blurred vision or uneven numbness?"

"No."

Steve nods, glancing at his watch. Then, to Eddie’s dismay, he looks at Gareth. "I've never been to this bar before."

"Nono, not here. Somewhere else…"

Steve's lips purse and his brows knit into the most adorable thinking-face Eddie has ever seen. His heart skips a beat, then skips two more as Steve's free hand gently cups Eddie's cheek. The skin catches fire where Steve's gloved fingertips touch it.

"Let me have a look at your pupils…" Steve says, guiding Eddie's face and, holy shit, leaning in close for a better look.

Eddie gulps, half his blood rushing up and the other half down; he squeezes his legs together to prevent the little guy from saying 'hello' to everyone present. His eyes rove over Steve's face. His lips are chapped and the skin on his nose is dry. The nose itself is somewhat crooked. Did he get into a fight between the calendar photoshoot and now, or did they make the nose straighter for the photo? Why would anyone think it necessary to edit a face like this one? Even with its imperfections mere inches away, it's still the handsomest Eddie has seen.

Steve hums. It's a perfectly preserved vinyl. It's a metal festival. It's Eddie's new favorite song.

"Same size but pretty dilated… Keep your eyes open, please." He shines a tiny flashlight into Eddie's eyes before nodding, satisfied. "All right, looks good."

He leans back out of Eddie's space, returning Eddie's ability to breathe, and removes the gauze. His smile tells Eddie that the bleeding has stopped. As great as it is that he won't hemorrhage to death, it also means their encounter is approaching its end.

"You might've seen me at the university campus?" Steve says, fiddling with some plasters; it takes Eddie's horny brain five full seconds to deduce he's talking to Gareth again.

"No-" Gareth freezes, mouth hanging open. His smugness has evaporated. "Actually, I might have? You're a student?"

Steve chuckles as he patches the last of Eddie's cut. "No, but my friends are. None of them own a car, so I end up driving them everywhere. Right, Eddie, I think you're good to recover at home. Unless you feel like you should head to the hospital?"

Great question! Does he? On the one hand: riding in the ambulance with Steve, ensuring a few additional minutes of his lustrous eyes and smooth voice.

On the other hand: hospital bills.

"… no."

"Okay. Do you have anyone who can keep an eye on you?"

Eddie shakes his head. "I live alone."

"Then maybe Gareth could hang around for the next 48 hours?"

"Sure can," Gareth says without hesitating. Eddie's heart swells with affection for him, despite his (failed! Hah!) plot to mortify Eddie to death.

Steve is already packing his medical bag.

"I want you to rest and avoid stressful situations," he tells Eddie. "No alcohol, no recreational drugs, no driving, and no working until you feel completely recovered. You may take tylenol, but not aspirin or ibuprofen. And if your symptoms worsen or you develop new ones – seek medical attention. Got it?"

The last part is sterner, reminding Eddie of every male authority figure he's strived to disobey during his teenage years. He has no such desire this time.

"Got it."

Steve raises his eyebrows as if to say 'have you really?', and Eddie has to wonder if it's he who seems contrariant and/or stupid enough to ignore the medic or if this is something Steve does with every patient. If it's the former, he mustn't seem that contrariant, because Steve's features soften into trust. He stands, brushing dust off his knees.

"Great. You boys take care now. Have a nice night."

"Yeah, you too, man," Eddie calls after him weakly as he retreats to the blinking ambulance. "Thanks…"

He keeps his gaze on the broad expanse of Steve's back, soaking in the rippling of his muscles as he walks and, oh would you look at that, his ass is as nice as the rest of him. Eddie's been wondering for two years now…

"Dude!"

Eddie jerks toward Gareth. Did he say that out loud? Did he drool? Is his boner showing? But no, Gareth isn't disgusted or disturbed – he's excited.

Shit.

He'll never hear the end of this.

"Don't!" he hisses.

Gareth just laughs, eyes twinkling.

"That was-"

"Don't!"

"I can't believe it!"

"Gareth-"

"You are so red right now!"

"For Jesus fucking Christ's fucking sake-"

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

Dedicated to @rougenancy for always listening to and encouraging my various thoughts, opinions, and ideas (they are constant).

Part 2

AO3

#me combining paramedic!steve with model!steve? it's more likely than you think #no need to tell me i'm a genius – i already know it #steddie #steddie fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #gareth stranger things #it's not important but i named the third guy 'marvin' #because i think he looks like one #this is part one out of [undecided] #i'll be winging it in the middle so that'll be fun #my writing #steddie fic: november paramedic

[phantoms-world-and-more]

Danny declared war

Its been years since danny took the throne and he's had enough

It started small like the GIW started shooting at the less aggressive ghosts, then it escalated to attacking non-fighting ghosts

6 months ago they started to focus more on capturing the ghosts then getting them away

3 months ago he discovered they were hunting for natural portals to the ghost zone

1 month ago he was able to locate the ghosts that were taken and being held

1 week ago he and other ghost made a rescue mission

And less than an hour ago danny watched what those...MONSTERS...they called HUMAN did to them...to HIS people

Theres alot he could do in this situation, he could call all the ghosts back, close all the portals, cut connections to the mortal world...

But he won't

His people never did anything wrong, and this is the last straw

.

.

.

The JL were in a panic

Things that looked like Lazarus pits started showing up all around the world, and creatures came out, they attacked government buildings and made as much damage they could

Then they took positions

Some were going back into the Lazarus pits carrying things and others stayed at the buildings

Others took off in different direction with no connection, they went to a place, sat down and appeared to be waiting

They sent members to deal with them, some to talk, some to fight and some to capture

All of them havent been heard off since

They were about to make a public statement when the biggest Lazarus pit so far appeared where all the press were waiting

It was covered in black armour with a glowing blade, and was followed by someone smaller than him, he had a green crown of flames, white hair and looked deathly pale

He called himself phantom,

Thats when everyone got an explanation

Phantom broadcasted footage of similar lookign creatures being vivisected, shot, burned, tourchered, and...people were doing it

It let everyone hear how the people though it was FUNNY, their pain their screams...everything

It lasted for 30 minutes of eveyone watching different videos of people expermenting and tourchering them

Then phantom spoke

Spoke of how his people have been hurt and hunted too long, told them the facility's have been distroyed, gesturing to the frozen and distroyed buildings, and how the GIW was a government founded division designed to hunt and experment on his kind

And he's had enough

He said he took the experimentation and capture of his people was a declaration of war between them

.

.

.

Batman was of the opinion that earth was fucked

They were now in a war THEY initiated with beings thay have no solid or reliable information of

Oh and over half the league that was dispatched is still missing

#danny phantom #fic prompt #daily prompt #danny fenton #dc x dp #dp x dc #batman #dc #the earth is fucked #danny declared war #he's done #GIW #the GIW have fuck up one too many times #everyones about to know what the government did

[be-missed]

Find You Again

Jenna Ortega X Fem!Reader

(pictures not mine)

Summary: Reuniting as stars, former high school sweethearts stage a fake relationship to boost their public image. Navigating the scripted romance, sparks fly. The big question: can this staged connection reignite their real love?

Warning: curse words, notify me if there are any. Credits to the owner for the picture that I used below the cut.

A/N: I'm so excited to write this, enjoy. New series for y'all.

Song: I Can See You // Taylor Swift

Masterlist

Chap 1

______________________________________________________________

Flashing lights are all that Y/N can see, facing all the cameras in different angles, her name being shout by different people, and different set of eyes are focused on her. Walking the red carpet was one of the things that Y/N enjoys when she is invited for an event like the MET Gala; the other things that she enjoys, well, the women who walks with their wonderful dresses. Men? Not really, but the press and the people doesn't need to know that.

"You are staring" a voice from behind her said—her publicist, Emilia notified her when she was staring far too long to the woman that was in front of her. Y/N just shrugs and shakes her head, waiting for her turn to be interviewed.

A few minutes have passed, she is now the next in line to be interviewed, "So Y/N, what a lovely fit you have. Can you tell us who you are wearing?" the interviewer asked, and Y/N answered, "I am so honored to be chosen as one of Givenchy's Ambassador for this event, honoring one of the most prominent person that anyone knows in fashion..."

Y/N's voice got buried with a loud screaming from the bottom of the stairs. Fortunately Y/N got to finish her answer before she looked down. Then there she was, looking like a doll, dress to kill, looks that can melt; Jenna Ortega was standing in the bottom of the stairs, posing for every camera that she caught.

A smile creeping in Y/N's mouth has been caught by the reporter and the camera, this gave the reporter a chance to segue a hot topic that you and Jenna dance around, answering yet not giving the exact information that the people want, "Looks like Jenna Ortega arrived in the house, there have been rumors going around for quite some time now, that the two of you have a history?" the reporter asked with a malice on his voice.

Y/N smiled and answered "Well, we were uhm, friends way before our careers, so yes, we did know each other and yes I can say that we have a great history, but there's no bad blood between us" and chuckles, that leads to the reporters new question "So, if that's what it is, is she the muse for the new single titled 'I Can See You' that you dropped a few weeks ago and will perform later?"

Y/N chuckles and rubs her chin, trying to think of a way to dodge the question, "I mean, Jenna is a wonderful woman, I can't deny that, WE can't deny that. But you know, where is the fun of writing songs if I'm just gonna admit who I'm writing for, right?" Y/N leaves with a wink to the camera and entering the venue.

"That was fucking close. What's with the media trying to come up with something between me and Jenna? It's been going on for months" Y/N whispered to Emilia, trying to find a champagne that she can drink. "There are photos that are circulating in the internet from when you were in High School with Jenna" her publicist answered.

This statement made Y/N look at her publicist with a questing look "Okay, now what? I mean what can they make out of the pictures? I'm pretty sure Jenna is denying it for sure" and got the chance to seat at their designated table. "Yeah, she's totally not denying it, the both of you kept on giving vague answers. But they are the media and your fans, connecting every song that you write and the events that happens to your life and Jenna's life," Emilia said with a knowing look and sipping a champagne.

"How? I mean, I kept on using a he/him pronouns on my song to lower the connection. Don't tell me they are that smart to know and connect things, don't you?" Y/N said to her publicist, looking so worried about the on-going rumor that can't seem to die.

On the other side of the venue, Jenna was taking a seat with Enrique trying to hide an annoyed look. "What's with the rumors and Y/N, they kept on reoccurring, why can't it die?" Jenna said trying to fidget with pearls that on her dress. "You know that the both of you aren't denying anything, right?" Enrique said to the girl.

Jenna then send Enrique a look that can kill and said "I am denying it, that's for sure. While HER, she keeps on dancing around it" Enrique then shakes his head "Oh no darling, you weren't denying it, the BOTH of you are dancing around it. Please don't deny it" then Jenna answered him so quick "I am denying it, I kept on saying no..."

Enrique just chuckles and said "See, the both of you aren't denying anything. You and Y/N always say that the both of you are 'good friends' and for the record, the both of you are always in the same event" and ended his sentence with a shrug trying to prove his point.

Jenna just rolled her eyes and tries to listen to whoever is speaking. While Y/N got called backstage to get ready to perform.

The host announced that Y/N was about to perform. Lights were dimmed and a shadow in the middle can be seen, the intro starts, and the crowd began to applaud and scream for Y/N's name.

Jenna noticed the intro and looked at Enrique and said "Really, she's gonna sing this? Out of all the songs?" and Enrique chuckled at the comment and replied "Well that's her new song, what can we do but to listen and enjoy, right?"

The performance ended with pyrotechnics in the stage and a wild crowd.

As the host again took over the stage, Jenna decided that she needed another drink, because what the fuck was that lyric, it just added gas to the burning fire, nice move, she thought in a sarcastic tone.

"One sour whiskey please" Jenna said to the bar tender, wanting to seat in the bar stool but sadly, her gown is restricting her. While she was waiting for her drink, whispers can be heard from behind her, not wanting to know the drama she still decided to maintain her focus on the bar.

"Nice dress you have there"

Once the voice registered, her eyes widen and her hand clenches into fist. Thinking if she ignores the voice, it will just go away, because if she faces the other girl tonight, she don't know if she will make a scene. But to no avail, the voice speak again, now beside her.

"I said you look good in your dress, Miss Ortega" Jenna heard, now feeling a smirk plastered on Y/N's face. With all her might Jenna faced the other girl with a tight smile, her hand clenched by her side and said "I heard you the first time, you know?" with an eyebrow raised, "Oh so you were just ignoring me then?" Y/N said now trying to make a sad face.

Jenna's jaw clenched, how can Y/N take this like a joke, "Yes you are right, I am ignoring you" focusing back on the bartender, "But I thought we were 'good friends', right" Y/N answered while trying to tease Jenna, "In case if you didn't notice, I say that for us to have neutral grounds, now can you please piss off?" Jenna answered and thought that it might be a little harsh but she really just want to be away from Y/N.

Before Y/N got to say something, the bartender gave Jenna her drink, and when she's ready to walk away, a photographer got in her way and said "Hey Y/N and Jenna, can you please pose so that I can take a shot"

Y/N greeted the photographer with a smile and accepted the request, she pulls Jenna near her, while Jenna tries to stay her ground, "Come girls closer" the photographer again said and Y/N thought, "This man surely knows how to stir the pot"

The both of them smiled for the camera, closer than they have been for 5 years. This was the first picture of them that they were this close to each other after their career boomed and well, after what they had.

"Thanks ladies, enjoy the night" the photographer said and left the duo. "Okay you can let go now" Jenna said, "For your information, I also don't like being linked to you, so I came here to clear things out, yeah?" Y/N said with a nod in her head.

That surprises Jenna "Okay, I get that, then go on and deny that we had a history" Jenna said challenging Y/N, "You first, you are always out doing interview, unlike me, I don't have any premiere shows or any other events like this" Y/N smirked.

It made Jenna's blood boil again, inhale and exhale, she reminded herself. She doesn't want to make a scene and be banned to this gala, this is her second time, she doesn't want it to be her last she thought.

Y/N walked away and left Jenna stunned with her drink on hand.

---

After the MET Gala, of course there would be an after party, Jenna was invited to many but decided to go to the nearest one to her hotel.

Trying to fix her make-up inside the car that she is on, she hears Enrique say, "Okay, slow down with the drinks, we don't need you going around the place" with a knowing look, Jenna then replied "That was ONE time oh my god, please let that go" with an annoyed tone.

Her car stopped at the entrance, looking outside through her window she saw a dozen of paparazzi trying to get a picture of none other than Y/F/N Y/L/N.

"Fuck, no fucking way" Jenna said to Enrique, still looking at the window, "What? What's the problem?" Enrique asked her worriedly, "Y/N is here, I can't stand another minute of faking smiles with her, every time I see her I fell like my stomach churns and I want to vomit so bad. Enrique please, let's go to another party" Jenna pleaded that earned a shakes to Enrique's head.

"Nope, can't be, your manager chose this party so you can mingle with different artist. I can't say no to that, and you know it" Enrique stated with a stern look, not giving Jenna a chance to say another word.

With a grunt Jenna whispers to herself "Here goes nothing" and exits the car. Another set of cameras are now trying to capture Jenna and her outfit for the afterparty, looking at the entrance, she saw Y/N rolled her eyes, Jenna thought "The fucking nerve of this girl t roll her eyes"

Now that they are in the same vicinity again, the paparazzi wasted no time and asked for a picture of them together, which they don't say no, since they don't want to cause another issue.

Y/N greeted Jenna with an open arm and huge smile, when Jenna got situated next to Y/N, she heard the other girl say "Are you stalking me?" which made Jenna look at the girl, with the heels that she is wearing, she stepped on Y/N's toe that made Y/N jerked in pain, with a worried voice Jenna said "Are you okay?"

With that, the security ushered the cameras away and assisted the both of them inside.

"DO you really need to step on me?" Y/N said, "Oh, I didn't mean to, really" Jenna answered, voice filled with sarcasm. Y/N have a deadpan look not believing what Jenna said "Yeah? You sure there?" Y/N said challenging Jenna, and that made Jenna smile "Of course not, I would do it again and again."

With that, Jenna left Y/N speechless. Y/N thought to herself "Is she that fucking angry at me? What did I even do to her?" and proceeded to enter the party and mingle with other artists.

The party actually went well for the both of them, avoiding each other like a plague, Y/N performing in the party and joining the DJ in the booth while Jenna tries to expand her connections and tries to know new faces.

Another hour have passed and Y/N was now taking a break from all the mingling and faking smiles and went to the bathroom, as if like faith is trying to take the both of them as a joke, she saw Jenna bending over the sink.

"Are you fine?" voiced laced with worry as Y/N walked slowly towards Jenna, "Don't come near me" Jenna said head still hanging low. Y/N stopped in her track and said "You are tipsy... or like drunk? You need to go home."

The statement made Jenna look at Y/N and said "What now, you're my mom now?" Y/N just rolled her eyes knowing that it is impossible to argue with a drunk Jenna. Y/N fished out her phone and texted someone, "Come on, I'll bring you to your hotel, can you tell me where it is?" Y/N asked while staying on her track.

"No, I won't go with you, I don't want to go with you can't you see that? Leave me alone" Jenna said trying to fix her make-up in front of the mirror, "Why not? You clearly can't walk straight I bet" Y/N said and chuckled. Jenna hates it, she hates that Y/N is right, that is why she is in the corner holding herself through the sink and not moving an inch because she knows she'll stumble with her drunk state and her heels so high.

Y/N take Jenna's silence as a cue to go to the other girl and support her. Jenna then said "We can't be seen going home together, I don't wanna be seen with you" It made Y/N's heart ache, is she that fucking bad in Jenna's perspective to the point that she doesn't want to be seen with her? Y/N just swallowed down the pain that she feels.

"Yeah, I messaged Enrique, he will meet us at the entrance and I'll make sure to not be seen with you." with a heavy sigh, Y/N supported Jenna to walk out of the bathroom through the crowd of people inside the party and into the entrance.

"Jenna, Enrique said he'll meet us at the front" Y/N notified and it made Jenna shakes her head "No... Y/N Nooooo" Jenna whined, it made Y/N chuckle, if she can have Jenna like this every time, not wanting to cut her throat, or sending sarcastic comments, she would make Jenna drink alcohol for as long as she wants, but she knows she can't.

But like their situation right now, Enrique can't really enter so they need to meet him in front.

"Jenna, I'm very sorry but we really need to meet him in front" Y/N said and telling to the security that they will go out of the establishment, which the security ushered them to.

Flashes of light welcomed them to the outside world, not far enough Y/N saw Enrique waiting for Jenna. "Thanks, I'm really sorry I can't meet you inside" Enrique said which Y/N answered "It's okay, take care, I'll be back inside"

___

"WE CAN SEE YOU: Jenna Ortega and Y/F/N Y/L/N seen going home together after the after party for the MET GALA"

Actress Jenna Ortega and Singer Y/F/N Y/L/N seen together leaving the after party hand in hand. But before this, they are also seen in the red carpet, fans capturing how the singer look at the actress. They have also been asked with questions pertaining to them being together but the both of them swam around the topic. Another photo of them was released mingling by the the bar inside the MET, having all smiles and flirting with each other.

Their fans have been speculating that they were together ever since High School and just kept it lowkey due to their reputation and their careers. The fans also tried to make sense of Y/N's released songs and connected it to the actress, which can somehow make sense, but we can't be for sure knowing that the singer also have a list of exes.

The fans and the media seemed to not disagree and hate their dynamic, instead they hope that what they speculate is real, knowing and seeing how beautiful they look together.

Stay tuned for the latest update towards our favorite couple, or may I say duo? Who knows, right?

______________________________________________________________

A/N: Hope you enjoy this new series, thoughts?

Chapter 2

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #fanfic #fiction #jenna ortega imagine #findyouagain

[avocado-writing]

home

pairing: 14th doctor x reader & 10th doctor x reader

rating: E

notes: no gender or age given for reader, just that you last saw the doctor fifteen years ago. thank you to @mcganns for being my beta!!

This too shall pass.

It was a sentiment that you had to cling onto when he left, because fuck knows it was the most painful thing you’d ever felt. And you’d run away from actual explosions before. Big ones, in space! Supernovas which could eat entire planets while you hung onto the side of a little blue box. 

And yet none of it even begins to compare to when he fucking left you. 

He said it wouldn’t be forever. Well, he shouted it at you as you fell out of the TARDIS. There was a time explosion, and you got rocketed back to your little flat in the middle of Hackney, on Earth only a few days from when he’d picked you up — but in your reality months of adventure had passed. 

You’d not really settled back in, certain that he was going to come and rescue you. But then days turned into weeks into months and you finally accepted that the Doctor had abandoned you. 

So you went back to it all. Your mundane little existence before a mad, brilliant man had whisked you away. Your boss was a bit miffed that you’d gone AWOL but you were their best employee so they couldn’t afford to let you go, all you got was a slap on the wrist and a command not to let it happen again. The people you loved didn’t really seem to notice your absence that much, which stung; you couldn’t blame them though. You’d probably not miss you much either. 

The Doctor. He made you feel special in a way nobody had before. Like you were the centre of a whole, giant, fantastic universe, and he adored you for it. 

Still. 

No point mulling that over again, is there?

Fifteen years. Things did get better. You moved on eventually. But you still find your thoughts drifting back to him every once in a while, and that fragment of time you spent totally utterly in love with each other. When you think about the way he kissed you, without realising it you end up touching your lips.

No. No. Stop. 

The singing of the kettle snaps you back into reality, and you pour yourself a hot cuppa. Ah, tea. The antidote to everything. You go to turn the radio on for some company as you shift into your morning routine when you hear a knock at the door. 

Probably the postie. He’s a bit early today, you think, but make no more of it as you undo the latch and open the door. 

Your heart stops. 

Because there he is, of course. 

Older. Weathered. Not the young man you once knew but a grownup version of him, as exhausted by life as you are. 

You drop your mug. Quick as a flash the Doctor grabs it out of midair. The tea sloshes onto the floor but at least nothing gets shattered. 

He goes to look up at you, but his attention is drawn back to his hand. 

“I bought you this mug years ago,” he says, utterly amazed. 

You shut the door in his face. 

Well, you try to, anyway. But he sticks a foot in between the door and the frame, with one of those stupid Converse he always wears.

“I know you’re angry, I know. But please let me come in.”

It’s such an absurd statement you find yourself laughing, a high and desperate noise. 

“Absolutely not!” Actually, no. That’s not enough. “How dare you. Why are you even here?!”

“Because I wanted— I needed to see you.”

You still want to slam the door on him, but there’s a desperation to his voice that gives you pause. And when he looks at you with those sad, puppy-dog eyes? Those eyes as lined with age as you are?

Fuck. You’re so weak. 

So that’s how you find the Doctor sitting at your kitchen table with a cup of tea in front of him. You lean against the counter, defences still up, eyeing him from over the top of your mug. He drums his fingers against the tablecloth. 

“I like your house. Your calendar is nice, I enjoy the kitten motif.”

“Don’t,” you spit, slamming the mug down and sloshing tea onto the floor, “don’t you dare. You don’t get to waltz back here and start telling me ‘oh, I enjoy your furnishings, haven’t you made a nice little life for yourself since I abandoned you!’ I let you in to speak your piece, though god knows why. Say it and be done.”

The Doctor looks deflated. His shoulders sag, mouth falls. You take a moment to properly look at him. He seems… tired. Tired in a way you never knew him to be when you went on your adventures. Part of you wants to offer comfort, but the other part of you wants to withhold it maliciously. Anything to make him feel the way you felt. 

“I looked for you,” is what he settles on, heavily. You didn’t expect that, and it knocks you. 

“What?”

“I did. After the explosion, I tried searching all over the galaxy for you. I didn’t know where - when - you’d ended up. I scanned and scanned but something stopped you from appearing on the TARDIS’s sensors. I think… the amount of artron energy emitted during the blast somehow cloaked you.”

You say nothing, your silence an invitation for him to continue his explanation. 

“It took years. Literal years, for me. Every spare moment I had, I dedicated to looking for you. Head buried in the circuitry of the TARDIS, trying to fix whatever was hiding you, gave myself a couple of nasty shocks too. And, when I finally tracked you down, I’d regenerated.”

You blink. Right. Yes. He’d explained that, but you’d never seen it with your own eyes. The same person, a different face. 

“I didn’t know if you’d want to see me if I didn’t look like me. But I had to try anyway, didn’t I? So I came here. To your house. I got myself all ready for it, knocked on your door… and found that you were married.”

Your fingers grip the counter. 

“Oh.”

“He seemed nice. Loved you a lot, as you deserved. And I couldn’t tell you I was back, could I? I saw you pottering around in the kitchen, making the tea - you were always the best at making tea - and you were happy. How could I ask you to leave that all, uproot the life you’d made for yourself, just to jump back in the TARDIS with me? How could I be so cruel? I couldn’t, could I. So I left again. Tried to move on. Like you did.”

You’re crying now. You can feel hot tears slide down your face and soak into your jumper. 

“Oh, Doctor,” you manage. You want to tell him so much. It feels like it might burst out of you. But instead you settle on:

“Why now?”

He smiles thinly. 

“Because somehow I got this face back, and I wanted to see you. I wanted to be selfish for once.”

You find yourself at the table, on the wonky chair opposite him, sliding your hand over to cover his. It’s rough and warm. Just like you remember. He says your name with reverence, but like it pains him. 

“I never stopped loving you. Ever. Through it all, every adventure, I knew it wasn’t complete because you weren’t there. It just wasn’t the same without wonderful, brilliant you,” he admits. He sounds defeated. It breaks your heart — or, actually, it might just put it back together again. 

A beat passes. His confession lingers in the air, heavy, thick and choking like smoke from an untameable fire. 

“His name was Simon. He was a baker. He was lovely, actually… and we got divorced two years ago.”

The Doctor’s brow furrows. 

“You… what… why?”

“Because he knew there was someone else I never really let go of. Someone else who, despite everything, I still loved.”

He looks you in the eyes, and you see something glimmer there that you long since gave up on. 

Hope. 

And then, suddenly, you’re kissing. 

It’s like nothing has changed. His lips are still rough and searching on yours, a hint of tongue giving away into more the deeper you entangle. He sits you up on the table and steps into the space left by your spread legs, and between each kiss he says your name. It’s full of adoration but lined with desperation, too. 

Like the kisses he gave you the first night you laid together, on a bed in his spaceship floating across the galaxy. When he buried himself inside you and you felt his two hearts beat in rhythm with your own. 

“Doctor…” you manage. 

Fuck. You need him. You didn’t realise how badly you needed him. You didn’t realise a piece of your soul has been missing this whole time, fucking torn out of you and leaving a jagged hole in its wake. And him, back, telling you he loves you and always has? You’re patched together like kintsugi. 

Your Doctor is the molten gold you need. 

“Please. I need to…” he’s so desperate he can barely get the words out, but you nod; he’s undoing the belt buckle of your jeans and pulling them off like they’re silk. When his thin waist meets yours you cross your ankles behind him and lock him into place, and his hands - a little fumbling, a little nervous to be mapping out the plain of you again - begin to trace your chest. You lean into his touch to let him know yes. This is okay. I want this. Make me whole again. 

His warm, rough palms slide under the hem of your shirt and lift it easily over your head, the only break in a while you take from your kiss. You let yourself grab his tie to bring him closer. He’s fully dressed still and you’re almost naked; you remember how he used to like that, enjoy feeling a bit more put together than you. Cheeky blighter. Still though, as his suit scratches your skin, you can’t say you don’t agree. 

However. In this instance he has far too many clothes. 

You tug at his jacket and he knows what you need, letting it fall to the floor with his tie and waistcoat following it. He ruts against you as he unbuttons his shirt a bit, not the whole way, but just enough for you to feel the warmth of his chest. He’s so skinny. You’ve always been a bit worried that, on one of your rougher days, you might snap him in half. You still are now, actually. 

Cupping his face in your hands you let your thumbs caress his cheekbones. Your Doctor. Older but the same. Just like you. 

You can feel him more than half-hard against your leg. No more time wasting. You need him. You need him, you need him, you need him. 

It doesn’t take long to undo his fly and have him in your hand. You’ll always be glad he chose this human anatomy. Though you’d love him no matter how he looks, there’s something wonderful about his cock as it is here. He lets his head fall forward onto your shoulder with a moan if your name. 

“Oh… you’re…”

“Mmm hmm,” you agree, a genuine smile passing your face for the first time in god knows how long. He’s just the right length and on the thick side, and you know what a delicious stretch he is when he pushes inside of you. You can’t wait to feel it again. A couple of pumps and he’s ready, dripping precome and a ruddy red. Another time you’d bend down and taste him, remind yourself what a Time Lord’s cock is like. But now today. Well, not now. 

You lay back, readjusting yourself so he can push your underwear to the side and find your entrance. A couple of fingers - those long, delicate, clever and cunning fingers - press inside you and test you out. You’re ready for him. He makes a choked noise in the back of his throat as he realises and you laugh, properly, throwing your head back. 

“Come on, Doctor. Show me that you’ve missed me.”

He used to never shut up. And now he’s stunned into a desperate silence, lining up with you and pushing in as he does his best to make you feel what he’s been feeling too. 

A loneliness is fixed. He slides home inside you and your hips meet, the both of you letting out a long and ragged breath. You sit there for a moment, locked in the most intimate embrace, and just feel each other. You fist your hands in his shirt. He’s here. He’s real. You feel him trace his palm up your back as if you assure himself of the same thing. 

Slowly he begins to move. It is a long and lovely drag, his cock hitting all the points you missed being touched, and when he feels you gasp he goes harder. The Doctor nuzzles into the skin of your neck, nestling to the warmth of you there, and you hear him repeat a mantra both of your name and “I love you”.

Over and over. As if the two phrases are inextricably linked. 

You’re so full. You’re so light. Everything feels perfect in this moment. And when he reaches between your bodies to touch your sex, push you to the edge, you know you’ll climax for him embarrassingly fast. 

When you come you see stars light up behind your eyes. The sky, the unfiltered and untamed sky takes you over. The Doctor says your name one final fine and releases inside you, his hips riding it out as if to savour every second in the sweet grip of you. 

He can’t look at your face when he asks you. He says it from the safety of your shoulder where his face is buried, because if you say no you know his heart will shatter. 

“Come with me, in the TARDIS again. I know I shouldn’t ask you to leave your home but… you complete me, you know. Always have.”

“Leave my home?! Doctor, don’t be daft. This is just a house in bloody Hackney. You’re my home.”

You pull back to meet his gaze. He’s tired, but bright. His eyes twinkle. And there’s the Doctor you know. 

“And of course,” you continue. And, as the smile engulfs his face and he lights up, “it’s not like I’m doing anything else, am I?”

This time, when you go AWOL from your job, you never come back. 

#The doctor x reader #Doctor who x reader #the doctor x you #david tennant x reader #10th doctor x reader #tenth doctor x reader #14th doctor x reader #fourteenth doctor x reader #my writing #full disclosure only seen the star beast so far lol

[strawberryya]

notice me!

pairing: jihoon x reader

synopsis: Your boyfriend has a hectic life, but he usually has at least a little time to spare for his girlfriend. Now it has been two months since he last spent some alone time with you and you're losing your mind just a little over it... luckily, angry make-up sex can solve any problem!

word count: 2.1k

genre/cw: smut, angry sex, also make-up sex, established relationship, feeling neglected in relationship and bad ways of handling said feeling, unprotected sex, manhandling, light choking, fem reader, musician/producer! woozi.

rating: 18+

a/n: I had a moment a couple weeks ago where I wrote this whole thing in one hour in the middle of the night, and then I forgot about it and now I'm in shock just a little bit... anyhow, yay angry sex with wooziiii

network tagging: @svthub @cultofdionysusnet @k-labels @kvanity-main

[navigation post!]

You watched your boyfriend of two years looking at his phone, scrolling mindlessly across whatever app he found more interesting than his girlfriend sitting on the other end of the couch. You were barely wearing anything, a large t-shirt barely covering the sexy lingerie you had put on for tonight. 

“Jihoon, it’s been two months.” 

You wanted him to notice you. He had barely been home at your shared apartment for weeks. You knew his work was demanding, and that he gave it his all no matter what. But you have been feeling neglected lately. He had been coming home late, crashing on the couch instead of sleeping in your bed. Only giving you a chaste kiss before running off to work the next morning with a groggy “Sorry I missed dinner last night,” as a greeting. 

He hadn’t touched you in two months. You had counted the days, and after three weeks you were wondering if he wasn’t stressing too much about the latest album. After six weeks you had been feeling too horny for your own good, and your toys weren’t fulfilling your needs anymore. You wanted to feel him again. It didn’t matter how many times you came. It didn’t hit the spot. After two entire months of him being abstinent, you had begun getting snarky at the smallest things he did wrong. 

Jihoon looked up from his phone at your statement. He carelessly scratched his chin, making your pussy clench at the memory of those perfect hands being all over your body once upon a time. “Two months? Of what?” 

“Of you acting like a damn nun,” you said, dead serious. 

“A nun?!” He gasped out. 

“Yes! A nun!” You shouted back at him. 

He looked you over, sitting at the other end of the couch, dolled up more than usual and staring at him as if he had offended yuo great grandmother by existing. Then it seemed to click in his mind. “Oh,” was all he said.

Two months? Had it been that long? He knew very well that he had been resisting his urges, but he had managed for two entire months? He had been so busy with the new album, he had been staying late at the studio every day and waking up rushing back to the studio to put the new ideas he got during the night into reality. Two months without sex, and a pissed off girlfriend because of it. 

“I’m sorry?” 

You looked at him like he was an equation, mouth open just a bit as you stared at him in shock. “You’re sorry? What the fuck does that mean?” He was so clueless, you thought as you watched the dumb face he was making. (You still wanted that stupid handsome face of his to eat you out until you cried, but that was besides the point.)

Jihoon knew he had fucked up, you were pissed off and picking a fight, and he hadn’t made it better by not even knowing that he hadn’t slept with you in two whole months. 

“Do you even care? Because you don’t seem to care one bit about it since you didn’t even know! Do you not like me anymore? Are you not attracted to me anymore? Are you in love with someone else? Why the fuck would you go and cheat on me?!”

He stared at you in complete surprise. Cheating? “Hold up- hold up! What are you talking about?!” He said, flabbergasted at the way you seemed to have drawn the most far-fetched conclusions to this problem you could’ve possibly thought of. “I’ve been busy with the comeback! Please, baby, why are you acting crazy?” 

He shouldn’t have said that, he knew it the second the word left his perfectly plump lips. 

“Crazy? Did you just call me crazy? You haven’t seen crazy, you fucking asshole!” You shouted as you stormed out of the room. You were packing your bags, if he didn’t want to be with you anymore you wouldn’t be the one to stop him from moving on and sleeping with whoever else he wanted. Because it sure as hell wouldn’t be you after he had just called you crazy for noticing that he wasn’t interested in you anymore. 

“What are you doing?? Why are you messing up the apartment? Are you leaving?” he shouted, seemingly surprised that you didn’t feel like staying in an apartment that he was hellbent on making a girlfriend-free zone. 

“Yeah, I’m fucking leaving,” you grunt, shoving some shirts into your bag. You wouldn’t be able to grab it all but at least you could make it with the stuff you were throwing into it for a while. Y9ou could always borrow your friends’ stuff until you could get back all your clothes. “You’re pissing me off and I don’t wanna hate you.”

Jihoon was by the bedroom door now, hands pushing his hair out of his face as he watched you angrily packing your bags. How had he fucked up so badly that his girlfriend wanted to leave him like this? 

“Hate me? Baby, I really don’t know what I did to mess up this bad…” 

Of course, he didn’t understand, because apparently, your boyfriend was a freaking master at staying “pure”. He hadn’t even spent a single thought on you and what he could do with you. He only cared about his music. And you wouldn’t be the one to stand in his way if thats how he truly felt. 

“You don’t know?! Look at me Jihoon!” You threw the t-shirt off your body in an angry fit, making your boyfriend’s eyes widen. “I’ve been waiting for you to notice me, to care even a bit about me- about us- for months!! And tonight, I just can’t do this anymore. I’m losing my mind because you won’t fuck me, how stupid is that?” You nearly sobbed as you made it clear that you were frustrated in more than one way. You were so mad at him, and still, you couldn’t help but admire the way he looked so hot even now, his long black hair falling in pretty curls around his face and his lips shiny and pink. He looked so kissable it was like he was teasing you just by existing. 

“You got me all addicted to your cock and then you fucking left me to go through some kind of twisted withdrawal.” 

He gulped, his adam's apple moving in his throat, you didn’t even care to look at him anymore, you were angrily throwing your shit into the bag on the bed yet again, bent over and flaunting the tiny piece of fabric that tried it’s best to cover your ass. “You don’t even care,” you rumbled as you stuffed more things into the bag. He took in the way the lace set hugged your curves deliciously, he had been so busy with everything he hadn’t even noticed his own cravings. He had ignored it all for so long. 

“Shut up.”

His voice was deep, and commanding. Your breath caught in your throat, surprise and need mixing in an arousing blend that went straight to your head. “Excuse me?” Your movements paused completely. When you heard his footsteps approaching you hastily you looked at him, his gaze was darkened, and your core clenched around nothing as he pulled the bag from your grasp. Throwing it on the ground before he pushed your barely clothed body into the bed. 

“You think I don’t fucking care anymore just because you haven’t gotten dick in a couple weeks? Are you that desperate to be stretched like a little whore?” He growled in your ear, his bulge evident in the way he pressed against your ass. “I care, and I see you. So shut up.” 

You gasped at his harsh movements, neediness soaking your panties in record time. God, you were pathetic. 

“I haven’t eaten, I haven’t slept, and I sure as hell haven’t let myself even think about this sweet pussy of yours. I’ve been denying myself it all. But you’re right…” his hand pressed against your throat where you laid face down on the bed, “I’ve been neglecting you. You wanna know why? It’s because I knew that if I so much as looked at you, or held you in my arms while you slept so innocently, I wouldn’t be able to help myself. I wouldn’t have been able to do anything but fuck your tight little pussy all day and night.” His growling voice set off all kinds of sparks in your core. You needed him, now. 

You pushed your ass up against him, eating a groan from your boyfriend. “Such a little slut,” he mumbled, letting go of your throat and pulling himself back from you completely. You were dizzy from the hold around your throat, his perfect hands remembering just the way you liked to feel them around you. You were about to whine when his touch left your body when you heard the familiar shuffling of his clothes falling off his body. You wanted to see it, take his form in properly after all these weeks. But he was faster, pushing you back down against the bed before you got up. 

His erection pressed against your heat, making you moan as he prodded against the soaked fabric covering your entrance. 

“Jihoon, please,” you mewled, wiggling underneath his firm body. 

“Wanna shut up and let me fuck you then since you’re so fucking needy?” 

“Please, yes! Anything! Please fuck me!” You almost cried as you pleaded with him. 

“Sobbing over cock, you really are such a dirty girl for me.” He groaned as he let his pretty hands smooth over one of your asscheeks, smacking down hard and leaving a burning sting after him. Even that felt good. You needed him more than you had ever needed anything in your life. 

You felt him pull the sticky fabric from your core, pushing it aside in favor of pushing the head of his hard cock against your messy pussy. “I’m about to drown in you later tonight, just you wait.” He whispered before pushing past your entrance, slipping inside, your walls lubing his cock up as he entered. He ignored the way you were so tight it almost hurt to push all the way inside, your moaned pleas for him to go deeper, and the way you were gripping the sheets while he pushed all of himself inside of your dripping heat enough of a reason to push through. It had been so long since he had felt your walls gripping around him that he could’ve spilled his seed into you right then and there. 

He pulled himself together soon enough, thrusting into you at a brutal pace. Your ass which you had pushed up to meet his hips at first had been completely overpowered by the sheer force he was fucking you into the mattress with. You were coming for the first time within minutes. Screaming and sobbing as you finally came around him. He continued, repeating to you what a good toy you were, and how good of a girl you had been for holding out for him this long. 

When you were moaning again, closing in on a second orgasm he told you to come again. Lifting your ass up to balance you on your knees and chest, one of his arms wrapping around your hip to reach your clit, pressing down on it while he let his cock slip in and out effortlessly. Your arousal dripped down your thighs. You came undone and sobbed as he continued to overstimulate your abused cunt. 

He continued fucking you until he couldn’t take it anymore, his own orgasm crashing into him with such force it knocked the breath from his lungs. 

“That was one hell of an apology,” you said, breathless and still leaking cum, exhausted after having all your pent-up frustrations released all at once like this. 

Jihoon chuckled, a sound you had missed these past weeks as well. He really had been unusually absent in your life. It wasn’t just about the sex, you had missed him a lot. “I’m sorry for not being around as much,” he said, dragging a gentle hand over your back. You hadn’t had the energy to move a once from the position he had dropped your hips from once he had pulled out. 

“I just missed you, I’m sorry for lashing out.” 

“Don’t worry about it, just… next time you should just ask me to fuck you instead of threatening to leave me.”

You were embarrassed now, you had acted like a complete maniac, but my god - if that’s how he fucked a maniac, you wanted to stay crazy for the rest of eternity. 

Reblogging and commenting is highly appreciated!! Hearing what you thought is what makes writing and being here overall so much fun! Ty and ily 💕

[navigation post!]

#woozi smut #seventeen smut #kwritersworldnet #jihoon smut #woozi svt smut #seventeen #svt smut #svt #woozi #jihoon x reader #x reader #fem reader #x reader smut

[malevessel]

I don't remember much about the possession.

I only know that I gave up. I betrayed my family, my brother and I gave up. I stopped fighting. I was very tired, not only from trying to expel my possessor, but from seeing how he harmed my family. He hit my brother when he started to dig deeper into my strange behavior. He insulted my mother and almost beat up my father. I couldn't take it anymore and gave up. Because I'm a coward

Sometimes I have flashes of what he does with my body. Small moments of lucidity, produced by some failure in his control. Yesterday, I think it was yesterday, I saw how he fucked a girl in a bed that I didn't know. God, Alice, I betrayed her too.

I don't feel pain, I don't feel anything he does, but the restlessness of being locked in your body, in your own mind, is more than enough torture.

A sharp pain in my eyes wakes me up and I slowly open them, blinded by the bright light of the sun. "I can move" is the first thought that comes to my mind. "I feel my body" is the second.

I try to stand up a little, failing due to lack of practice using my body, I don't know how much time has passed. I am in a large room, a hospital, and through the window I can see the bay of my city. At the side of the bed, there is an armchair, and my brother is asleep in it.

Anton, Ant!!! My voice feels different, deeper and more masculine. My brother wakes up and when he looks at me and sees that I'm awake, he screams. Mom, dad, he's woken up!!!

The next moment, a warm and aggressive hug was suffocating me, and my family was on top of me. My mother and my brother crying, and my father about to join in the crying too.

I'm sorry. It's the only sentence that comes out of my mouth. My mother is the first to speak. It's okay, honey. He's gone, he's not going to do anything to you anymore, not anymore

Then my brother. It's my fault Paul, I should have realized it sooner, I should have saved you......

I didn't really know what to say. The following hours my parents and my brother told me everything that had happened.

Five months had passed. Bob, my possessor, had sneaked into my house one night, through my window. The police assumed that he made the possession there. At first it was subtle, my parents and my brother noticed that something was wrong, but little did they know that a dangerous criminal had impersonated their son. The days passed and "my" behavior became erratic, increasingly evident that something was very, very wrong. In the end, my parents had no choice but to throw me out of the house, or Bob, and report me to the police. I was a danger to them. That was only during the first month, but they didn't know anything else about me, except for some information that Anton found out. It seems that Bob started a drug trafficking business again, with my body. They received no more news until a week ago when a police officer, more precisely Detective Sheila Mille, called my parents' house and explained the situation to them. The police were not sure that I was possessed, but for my family there was no doubt.

All the helplessness they felt during those months turned into anger, anger towards Bob, and hope, hope that I, their son, was still somewhere.

At my request, we talked again and stayed like that for a few more hours.

The police came to take my statement a few hours later, and when they left, Detective Sheila arrived, and with my family's permission, explained the situation to me, who Bob was, and why he could do what he did. I honestly couldn't understand much of what he was saying.

A few hours later I was discharged from the hospital and went home. While my parents prepared dinner, Anton and I met in my room. I needed to apologize

I'm sorry, I gave up, I couldn't do anything and you paid the price.

You don't have to apologize, Paul. In any case, it is my fault, for not having trusted my instincts, my heart that kept telling me that the person in front of me was not my brother.

When we finished talking, we had dinner as a family and when I returned to my room, I noticed it. A pain that was not pain. An anguish. My brother came through the door and threw something into my hands, a pack of cigarettes.

What the hell are you doing? I don't smoke

You don't, but Bob does. And he smoked every day for the five months he was in you. It's horrible and you're going to leave it as soon as possible, but not today. Today you have too many things on your mind to worry about that.

Before I could say anything else, the cigarette was already lit, and I was already smoking. This shit hit hard, it was going to be difficult to quit.

...........

The next morning I got up early and wanting to get back into my routine, I got ready to go to the gym. I hesitated whether to take the cigarettes or not and in the end decided not to, without realizing that I had already put them in my backpack without thinking about it.

......

This is going to continue

[mollysolo]

hii can i request a sacred the thread with bucky barnes where it’s a tlou au and bucky and the reader are sent to go find an old friend of sam’s. like an enemies to lovers kinda thing. and congrats on 3k! :)

Labyrinth

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X fem!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky learn to get along when you are sent out on a mission together.

Warnings: Crying, Bucky is mean to the reader, arguing, some insults, there is an age gap between Bucky and the reader (Bucky is 42, the reader is 33), some cursing, kissing, idiots in love, tlou au, mention of guns, mutual pining

Word Count: 2.6k

a/n: i hope you like this!

my 3k follower celebration!

the gif below does not belong to me

For as long as you and Bucky had known each other, you’ve never gotten along. But that wasn’t your fault, you tried to be nice to him like you were to any other person in Jackson. But he just seemed to always treat you horribly anytime you spoke to him.

And you never understood why, but you weren’t going to kiss up to him. If he hates you, there’s nothing you were going to do try to change that. Even though the very thought of him hating you made you feel like your heart was slowly breaking in your chest because you were in love with him and had been for months. But the way he was treating you showed you that he quite obviously didn’t feel the same.

Little did you know, Bucky was in love with you too. He had been in love with you since the day you arrived in Jackson and he had seen Sam showing you around. But he had been scared of the feelings he has for you and has been immature about this whole situation ever since. He was being mean to you just because he liked you and he didn’t know what to do about it like he was still a young boy and he hated himself for that.

The only reason you two interacted at all was because Sam — who ran the community in Jackson — had assigned you to do patrol together every other morning. And right off the bat, Bucky had started to just be an asshole to you and only you.

He’d mercilessly tease you, insult you, torment you about how you lived alone and mostly kept to yourself. “Y’know, I’m not surprised that you live alone, doll. I don’t know why anyone want to live with you or love you, you’re always quiet and when you do talk, you’re just boring.” He had said to you one morning, causing tears to start to well up in your eyes. “Fuck you, Bucky.” you had said in response as you faced away from him and swiftly wiped your tears away.

And as much you would’ve liked to run home anytime he insulted you, that wasn’t an option during your patrol shifts. So you stayed there and tuned him out, not letting what he was saying to you bother you. But that particular statement, really dug deep. It hurt to hear the man you were in love with say these things to you.

You wished that he would just give up on insulting you. And little did Bucky know, the reason you were so introverted was because you had survived on your own for years since you were a kid and teenager and hadn’t gotten used to living close to other people again without worrying if you were in danger. You were taking it all one slow step at a time because that’s what worked for you. If only Bucky knew that, then maybe he’d stop being mean to you.

————————————

One morning in early December when you and Bucky weren’t on your patrol shift, Sam had called you two into his office because he had something he needed to discuss with you and Bucky. You were dreading to find out what he wanted to talk to you about. What if Sam sent you out on a mission with Bucky? Would you even be able to survive being completely alone with that man?

And that fear ended up becoming your reality just minutes after you got to Sam’s office. Sam was sending you and Bucky to find an old friend of his by the name of Joaquin Torres. This man used to live in Jackson and run the community along side Sam but he had randomly disappeared five years ago and Sam had finally gotten some insight on where Joaquin might be hiding.

So he decided to send you and Bucky — his best fighters and scavengers — to find him and bring him back. The two of you would leave tomorrow morning at 9am and start heading north.

You groaned and rolled your eyes the second Sam had told you that two of you would be going on a mission together. “Isn’t there someone else you can send with me?” you asked Sam, desperately hoping that he’d say yes.

Sam sighed as he began to respond to your question, “No, there isn’t. I’m sorry, (y/n) but you and Bucky are just going to have to learn to get along.” he had said to you, causing you to let out another groan.

You took a deep breath, “Fine.” you replied, getting one simple nod of his head from Sam in response.

You then stormed out of Sam’s office to go pack for the mission, leaving Bucky behind in the room. And once you were gone, Bucky looked down at his feet and let out a deep breath as he thought about all of this for a moment.

Sam knew just how much Bucky loved you and he didn’t know how long he was going to last on this mission before he started apologizing for everything and then admitting his feelings to you.

But now that he was actually thinking about it, that didn’t sound so bad. He just hoped that you would forgive him when that time for him to apologize came around. Bucky then looked at Sam one more time, nodded his head in understanding then left, off to pack his own bag for the mission.

And as you walked home from Sam’s office, this mission was starting to not sound so bad to you as well. Maybe this would give you and Bucky the chance to actually get to know each other without the arguments and insults. Maybe he’d fall in love with you too.

————————————

The following morning, you got up early and went to meet Bucky at the entrance to the community after grabbing some things you would need, your shotgun and bag strapped to your back, the horse Sam was letting you borrow standing at your side.

You arrived at your meeting place at 8:59am, earning an eye roll from Bucky.

“Do you even know how to be on time? We have to leave right now, we don’t have anytime to make a plan for how this mission should go.” Bucky complained, glaring at you as he got onto his own horse.

“Oh sorry, I was just busy getting enough of the resources we’ll need on this mission so that we don’t die.” you sternly replied, glaring right back at him as you got onto your horse, the bottom of your bag gently bumping against its back as you got on.

That sentence made Bucky’s eyes widen and it reminded him that all you had ever been was nice to him, even when he had been quite the opposite to you. But he was still too full of his pride to apologize so he simply nodded in response and motioned for you to follow him on the path you were supposed to go down.

————————————

The two of you road your horses on the path you were supposed to be going down for the next 8 hours in complete silence until you had to stop because the sun had started to set. You set up camp in a part of the forest you had come across with a large amount of trees that surrounded a small clearing.

You hopped off of your horse and tied her reigns to a nearby stable tree branch, petting her head before you went to unpack your sleeping bag, your silent way of telling her to lay down. You then got your sleeping bag out and set it down on the ground and took out a large blanket you had brought for your horse, gently unfolding it and setting it down on top of her now that it was getting colder outside.

Bucky watched in complete awe as you did all of this, you looked so gorgeous in the orange light that filled the forest as the sun set. He couldn’t bear to look away from you and he wished that he hadn’t been such an asshole to you from the start. Maybe then he’d have a chance with you.

You turned to face Bucky after you finished setting up your side of the camp, you had felt him looking at you the entire time you were setting your things up. “What?” you asked while you softly shook your head side to side and looked directly into his eyes.

His eyes widened at that and he shook his own head, to bring himself out of spacing out while he stared at you in his case, “Nothing, doll. Don’t worry about it.” he answered, sending a feeling of shock through your system while he crouched down to start the fire in the middle of your camp with some nearby branches.

That was the first time he had actually spoken to you without being mean in some way. Maybe this mission would bring out Bucky’s kinder side? At least that’s what you hoped, all you wanted was to see the side of him that he didn’t let anyone see and have him let you love him.

Sure, he was an asshole anytime he spoke to you. But some part of you just hoped that he loved you too and was just being an asshole because he doesn’t know what to do about these kinds of feelings, as stupid as that may sound. After all, you know it’s been a very long time since he’s had a lover, same as you.

And once Bucky had finished getting his side of the camp as well as the fire set up just ten minutes later, you sat down on your sleeping bag and crossed your legs.

You then reached back into your bag and pulled out two of the sandwiches you had packed for the mission. You threw one to Bucky and it landed in his lap, making him smile and softly chuckle for just a second. But you saw every reaction he’d just had, which caused your cheeks to heat up.

You let out a sigh as you took the first bite of your sandwich. If you and Bucky were going to be alone together for a while, you thought that now would be a good time to tell him more about yourself. Specifically your past, the reason for your solitude that he felt the need to make fun of.

“Y’know there’s a lot you don’t know about me, Bucky.” you said, starting off this sort of conversation in a relaxed manner. You hoped that he would listen to what you had to say.

He looked up at you from his own sandwich and smirked at you, “Oh, yeah? What don’t I know about you?” he asked as he looked into your eyes, showing you that he was listening to you and prompting you to continue on with what you were going to say.

You took one deep breath before you started your story, “There’s a reason why I live alone and I don’t interact with other people in the community as much as everyone else does. I was 10 when the outbreak hit and I was made an orphan right away because my parents had been infected. So, in all of the chaos I was forced to survive alone and figure everything out on my own. I haven’t lived so close to other people without worrying that I was in danger since I was 10 and I only moved to Jackson last year, so I’m still getting used to living so close to it all again. We’re all going through different things and I understand that what you are going through may be the reason you are taking your anger out on me.” you explained to him, your story causing tears to prick at Bucky’s eyes but he wiped them away before they even had the chance to fall.

You had been through so much and even though he was mean to you, you were never once mean to him. You always treated him well, even when he didn’t deserve it. You had been on your own for 22 years and you still didn’t let that destroy your kindness or the goodness of your heart.

“Oh god, (y/n), I had no idea. I’m so sorry, for every mean thing I’ve said to you. I’ve been such an asshole to you and you don’t deserve that at all.” he made known to you, his apology that you had been waiting months to hear making you softly smile as you continued to eat your sandwich.

“Thank you and I accept your apology, Bucky.” you told him after you swallowed the bite you had just taken, that soft smile still on your face making you look extremely beautiful to Bucky.

He was in shock, “You forgive me? You should be furious with me.” he said, you pointed your face down towards your lap and softly chuckled at that.

You looked back up at him, complete honesty in your eyes, “Yes I do because life is too short to hold grudges against people, especially in the world we live in now. Plus, I don’t think I could ever bring myself to be genuinely mad at the man I’m in love with.” you said, a gasp quickly escaping your mouth after that last sentence, Bucky was in shock too. You hadn’t planned to admit your feelings for him as impulsively as you just did.

But the very second that this shock wore off, Bucky was on his feet and quickly making his way over to you. He fell onto his knees in front of you and lovingly took your face in his large, warm hands. You placed your hands over his, showing him that you were okay with his touch. There were tears in his eyes once again and this time he let them fall.

“God, I love you so fucking much. I’ve been such an idiot.” he shakily told you through his tears while your face remained in his hands, laughing a little at himself while he briefly looked away from you.

You inched yourself a little closer to him and looked up into Bucky’s eyes once more, a look of love only for him in your eyes.

“Me too.” you replied with a nod of your head, laughing with him, “I love you too, Bucky.” you made known to him, prompting Bucky to crouch down more so that he could press his forehead against yours and just feel you. He wanted to feel that you were real, that you were actually here and that you loved him back.

He pulled away from your forehead a few minutes later and looked down into your eyes again, “Can I kiss you, doll?” he asked, a tone of desperation in his voice as he continued to gaze into your eyes like you had hung the stars and moon in the sky just for him.

You nodded right away as tears started to form in your own eyes, not having the strength to verbally tell him yes because you were overwhelmed with everything you felt for Bucky. And with that, he pressed his lips to yours and passionately kissed you. You began to stand up on your knees while you kissed him back, loosely wrapping your arms around your neck and pulling him even closer to you, letting yourself indulge in the handsome man.

“I love you so, so much.” Bucky muttered against your lips in between kisses, causing a new feeling to bloom in your chest. Happiness.

You now had each other and everything felt truly perfect for once. The two of you clicked together like two pieces of a puzzle and you hoped that you would stay that way, in love and connected — the way you were always meant to be — forever. You had finally gotten through the worst of what was the labyrinth of falling in love with someone.

My 3k follower celebration!

Follow my library account to keep to date with the things I write!

Navigation

#mollysolo’s 3k follower celebration #mollysolo answers #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes masterlist #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel imagine #marvel masterlist #marvel one shot #marvel x reader #sebastian stan #bucky barnes oneshot #marvel angst #marvel fluff #bucky barnes enemies to lovers

[blushweddinggowns]

It had started as a rough few weeks. A rough few weeks that turned into a rough few months. It was weird, because in all honesty when it came to social standings, Will was doing a lot better here than he ever did in Hawkins. There were no Zombie Boy stories following him here, and he even managed to get a few girls to have a crush on him. He…still wasn’t quite clear how that worked out and he really wasn’t a fan of it. But they were also the only people he could talk to at school. He was way too paranoid of getting close to any guys. God forbid he got another crush on a friend, having none of them just seemed like the better course of action. 

It didn’t help that Mike had basically stopped acknowledging that he existed after they moved. He didn’t write to him, he didn’t call him, and it felt like the only time he heard his voice was when he politely asked for El over the phone. And it hurt. It hurt a lot. Especially when he still put in so much effort to get ahold of El all the time. He’d resent her for it if he could, but the only one who was having a worse time than him with the move was her. Maybe Mike was a shitty friend to him, but at least she had someone to talk to. 

But whatever. Lucas and Dustin cared, and so did Eddie and Steve. And when Jonathan wasn’t busy being high as hell, he had him too. Even Max called him more often than Mike did. Even when she was just trying to get ahold of El she’d take the time to ask him how he was, a courtesy that his best friend from freaking kindergarten couldn’t even offer anymore. 

So maybe Will didn’t have many friends in California yet, but he didn’t feel very lonely. 

Just a little heartbroken. 

But he could get past it. Especially when some of his favorite people were only one phone call away. Sometimes it made him feel a little guilty, that Steve and Eddie were his go to for talking about his problems. Especially since Jonathan was always trying to get him to open up. Even when he was zoinked out of his gourd he never failed to ask Will how his day was. Though…he did have a hard time following the plot when Will told him. 

But that didn’t change the fact that Jonathan always wanted to help. But what could Will say? I’m depressed because I’m in love with my best friend who doesn’t care about me? And oh yeah, I’m gay? Yeah, no. That wasn’t going to happen. If Jonathan of all people hated him for that…he’s not sure he could recover. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t think about it.

It was kind of pathetic, but he’d fantasize about it sometimes. Coming out to his family, everyone smiling and saying they’d love him anyway, no matter what. And if he was being honest with himself, it was technically possible, right? His brother had never said a bad word about Steve and Eddie. His mom never failed to shut the homophobic crap down when his crappy sperm donor had still been around. But it was different when it was your own kid, right? Will wasn’t quite sure. But he did know that he couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

So he called who he always did when he had a problem. It only took a few rings before someone was picking up, Steve’s familiar voice on the other end, “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me,” Will sighed, flopping face first into his bed, the phone pressed to his ear. 

He could hear the smile in Steve’s voice, “Hey kiddo, what’s up?”

God, he was such a dad. Will wouldn’t be shocked if he started wearing socks with sandals by the time he hit twenty-three. He went straight to the point, “Do you think that living happily ever after is like a real thing? For people like us?”

Steve laughed, “It better fucking be after all the shit we’ve seen.”

“I don’t mean the Upside Down stuff,” Will sighed, “I mean like…y’know. The gay.”

Steve snorted, “The gay? I’m going to have to tell Eddie that one.”

Will rolled his eyes at the redundant statement. He had learned a long time ago that telling Steve something meant telling Eddie something, and vice versa. He sighed a tiny smile on his face, “Oh what, like he’s not already next to you listening in?”

“...touché.” 

Will laughed, turning over to stare at the ceiling, “I’m serious though. Like…is it even possible? It’s not like everyone gets to magically find their soulmate at eight.”

“Is that such a bad thing though?” Steve asked, “Because no offense dude but honestly? I think you could do a lot better than Mike-”

“Be nice,” Will interrupted, torn between being defensive for Mike’s sake and amused at Steve never failing to find a way to come at him.

“I will when he starts being nice to me.”

“Well that’s just not going to happen,” Will laughed, “I’m starting to think Eddie’s right to call you a brat.”

Steve gasped, loud and scandalized. He’d been hanging out with Robin too much, “Me?! Never!”

Will could barely hear it over the receiver, but he could hear Eddie’s faint voice coming through, Yes he is!

And it was making him laugh even harder. Will missed this, so much. He missed having a place where he could just say whatever he wanted, with no worries. Even now he was looking over his shoulder, anxious at the chance that his mom or a sibling could come bursting in at any moment to catch him in the act of being comfortable. It was a confusing and weird feeling, and probably a little unfair to assume they’d prefer him to be sad and quiet over happy and queer. But he still did.

But for now he was safe. And he might as well take the chance to speak on all the things he couldn’t with anyone else, “But what if I don’t want to do better than Mike? Like…it’s stupid but do you think that um, I would ever have a chance?”

The answer was a strong no, but sometimes Will just needed a reality check from someone else’s mouth. 

Steve sighed, “I think the odds are pretty low bud. All jokes aside, even if he was playing for our team, I’m not sure if he’s the type who could even accept it. Y’know?”

Will did know, unfortunately. And if he’d never met Eddie and Steve there was a solid chance he’d be that guy. The truth stung a bit, but it was necessary, “I know, I know. But…do you think he would accept me? If he ever found out?”

“He fucking better. Otherwise I’ll-”

Will heard a shuffle on the other end, paired with something that sounded suspiciously like whining before he heard Eddie’s voice, “Will? You there? Sorry about that. I had to take the phone away before he started talking about beating up a child.”

Will grinned, happy to hear Eddie’s voice, “You made the right call. Do you think they’ll ever get along?”

“Not in this lifetime,” Eddie sighed, “And I know Mike’s not perfect, but if he’s okay with us why wouldn’t he be with you?”

“But it’s different when it’s a friend, isn’t it?” Will asked, “I’m not even sure if my mom would accept it, let alone him.”

“Well first of all, you don’t have to tell anyone shit, okay? But I can promise you that Joyce would be fine with it. And so would Jonathan for that matter. And I don’t even know if El is aware of what homophobia even is.”

It all sounded a lot more believable out of Eddie’s mouth than what was going on in his own head. But still… “What if they don’t though? What if I tell them and they kick me out or something? Or make me go to therapy?”

“Okay, on the off, off chance that you tell them and Joyce suddenly became a monster overnight, we’ll go to plan B. Steve and I will drive up there to kidnap you and you can live in Indy with us.”

Will grinned. He could live with that, “Can’t we just make that Plan A?”

“No, because your family loves you, as they should by the way. And this won’t bother them, I swear. Plus, telling them on your own terms is a lot less awkward than getting caught in the act.”

Will didn’t even want to know what Eddie was alluding to with that one. Poor Wayne, “But what if we’re wrong?”

He wanted to believe him, he really did, but stranger things had happened outside of gay people being disowned. 

“Will, listen to me,” Eddie said, his voice confident enough to make Will perk up, “I swear on Steve’s life, okay? There is no way in hell anyone in that house is gonna reject you for this.”

Will blinked, a little shocked at just how much faith he had in his family. More than he did, “Really?”

“Really. Trust me on this man, you’re going to be fine.”

They hung up pretty soon after that, mostly because El started knocking on his door for the phone. The conversation made him feel a bit better, but also…nervous. Could he really tell them? Would it all just work out? Just like that? Will wasn’t so sure. 

He decided against doing it right away despite Eddie’s own confidence. But he did start to drop a few feelers. He started with Jonathan, waiting until he was high enough for him to forget the conversation if it didn’t go well. And that wasn’t a long wait. 

He found him and his new friend sprawled out in his room, Fast Times playing in the background as they both stared into space. Though Will wasn’t quite sure he could count what Argyle was doing as staring. He’s eyes were barely open, and Will was 90 percent sure he was passed out. But that was good for him, now was as good a time as any. 

Jonathan smiled at him as he wandered in, his words kind but slurring, “Hey! What’s up? You never come in here. You wanna watch something or…?”

Will shook his head, his heart aching a little at the way it made his brother frown. Maybe he really had been neglecting him, too caught up in his own head to spend time with the closest thing he had to a Dad. 

It made him feel a little bad, but that wasn’t what he was here for, “No thanks. I just wanted to ask you something.”

“Sure!” Jonathan said, way too excited at the prospect of a simple question, but maybe that was the weed, “What’s up?”

Will shrugged, casually leaning against the door. Or at least he hoped it looked casual, because his heart was beating a mile per minute, “Steve said that his and Eddie’s anniversary is coming up soon. Do you think I should send them something?”

Jonathan tilted his head up to look at him, his eyes bloodshot with a tiny smile on his face, “That’s like…so nice dude. You’re always so nice. How are you so nice?”

“You don’t think it’s weird?” Will pressed, hope fluttering in his chest, “To be, y’know, celebrating them like that?”

Jonathan shook his head, “Nah man. It’s like…romance. Y’know? It’s sweet.”

“Yeah dude, gay guys are cool,” Argyle agreed out of nowhere, his eyes still closed,  “Good for Stu and Eggie. Gay people got like, the best hair.”

Will didn’t really know what to do with that one. But Jonathan was impressed. He jerked his head back to stare at Argyle, his voice in awe, “How’d you know he had good hair? I never told you he had good hair.”

“I bet they both have good hair,” Argyle sighed, “They alway do.”

“Are you like, psychic?” Jonathan asked, like that made any sense at all.

“Shit, you think I could be?”

Will watched as the two of them started to debate the idea, his brow raised. God, weed sure was a hell of a drug. He left them to it after that, deciding to slowly back out of the room. But he was going to chalk it up as a positive. 

preview for the next chapter (kind of) of this fic

#steddie #stranger things #will byers #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #the universe trapped in your skin #she's coming along #so fucking slowly #but she's coming #just a little preivew to prove she still exists

[blingblong55]

False god- Vladimir Makarov

A/N: he's so weirded out by emotions he apologises this way?! my dudes I need a man like that, like yes apologise to me with money

Based on a request:

HERE ME OUT. The lack of attention my babygirl Makarov gets has me crying. But hear me out on my request. Let's say during one of Makarovs mission he came across a certain individual, and it caught Makarovs attention, Makarov told his me to gather information about the individual, after he got the information turns out that reader(the certain individual I'm talking about) has there own task force and is the commander of it. Turns out that reader is oddly similar to Makarov. To similar. And this caught his attention. To test reader he decided to purposely raid her base and make a trap seeing if they could see through it which they did. And it obviously angered them causing them to become enemies, until Makarov decided to try and be Allies with them considering he needs there help on a certain mission and there the right person for it (idk what trope this would be.. probably an enemies to frienenies+ with benifits let's say Makarov had a slight crush on them 🙏🙏match made in hell basically..)

---- F!Reader, romance? fluff? soft!makarov?, established!relationship ----

Secret kisses behind closed doors. His hand was on yours when the room was dark. You and him never meant to be together, at least not in front of others. He failed at two things, meeting you liking you and falling in love with you. Does he regret it, no, definitely not. It's been a while since you have wanted to let everyone know that he is the reason you smile like a fool and tonight, as you met up with him again, the conversation came up. 

By the end of it, your eyes filled with tears. "But you have to listen-" "No." You hated how he had to have the last word in that but you'd let him, even if it meant to not voice your emotions for him. Soon later, he told you about some mission he did, his actions were wrong, and you knew that, so you called him out. A man like him will always deny such words and will not want to be confronted with the truth. That is when you two would clash. You were mad, of course, and he was too. So, you end up walking away. "Where are you going?" he follows behind. "I'm not going to entertain your shit-thinking tonight." You say without turning to him. Vladimir stops in his tracks and scoffs. "You're being a baby, R/N." Oh, that was it, no more contact, make him learn his lesson once and for all. 

If he really wanted to be better for you like he said months ago, then this is prime time to prove that statement. But he won't do it, not so easily. Hours after the conversation, he went home, waiting for your call but it never came in. He grew worried. You always called him to let him know you were home and safe. Three days go by and he is already anxious and scared. His men watch over you, giving him updates which keep him steady. Day 9 comes by and he can't help but try and reach out...except he stops before dialing your number. No, he isn't weak, he can't be the first to say sorry, that is not who he is. 

For fucks sake, he runs a group of strong soldiers, he is meant to be heartless...right? And if he is heartless then why does his heart ache anytime he thinks of you? Why does he get the urge to cry if you don't ever speak to him? God those lips of yours, that voice and the stare. He becomes a madman for you. You are a drug, one he needs to consume. So, for days he plans it all. He will talk to you, a speech he rehearsed which is nothing but the truth. The mirror knows that too. "Sorry...no...there has to be a better way through this," Makarov changed. He was confident in everything but without you there, what is he now? 

A mess, this is what has become of him. Damn it, why do you feel so close and still be so far? Idiot, fucking idiot. His office, filled with plans now empty from a clean spree he made while trying to not think of you. He knows you are around, knows you are at base playing a card game with your friends. 

Time passes and it is day 12. He hasn't been the same, why the fuck do you affect him like this. 

"No, no..." you laugh and he nudges you. Gosh, look at this view. Your legs over his snuggled on the couch as a cheap romance comes on screen. Cliche, all of it but it even makes him excited to experience it. He looks over at you, this is perfect. Your angelic face is complimented by the shades of the screen. He cups your face, "Kiss me, please," Vladimir needs this more than you. 

Fuck it. He knocks on your door. It's been 504 hours since he last held you in his arms. Kissed you, smiled because of you, laughed with you, made love to you. 504 hours of pure torture. Everyone at your base was asleep. His heart races as he awaits to see you. Your door opens and you stand there, confused. "Makarov?" Oh yes, say it again, say my name, he thinks. 

In his hand, a bouquet of your favourite flowers mixed with money. "I'm an idiot, I know. And...I'm sorry for not apologising sooner, for not acknowledging you calling me out on something I know now was wrong, I'm sorry...I'm sorry for needing you, I'm sorry for crying...but I'm not sorry for loving you," his eyes filled with tears. Fuck does he love you.

You may ask, what made him so emotional? That picture he took of you and him on Christmas. That day, he knew he loved you, he knew that in his miserable life, you were the only and last good thing he could have. That morning, he received the best gift. The first genuine 'I love you' he ever got in his life. You knew then that he was the one. It's why you now have him in your room, kissing him and cuddling him because, for 504 hours, you too missed him. 

"I love you, I love you.." Makarov repeated after every kiss he gave your body. You smile and repeat over and over, "I love you too." 

And so it goes that the cruel Vladimir Makarov, held the hand of his beloved as they walked down the aisle. Mr. and Mrs. Makarov, what a risky love this will be. 

Tags: @rowrowrowyourboat13 @thefragmented @selarus @kielsegur @shotmrmiller @liyanahelena @personwhosucksassatmath @iamashadows-blog @strangepuppynightmare @thesnailus @arialikestea @baldwinhearts @wack2000 @johfaam0 @goldenmclaren @moonsua1 @rvirienner @frazie99 @viomast @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @alxexhearts

#vladimir makarov cod #vladimir makarov #vladimir nabokov #makarov x reader #makarov cod #makarov call of duty #cod makarov #mw2023 #cod mw3 #vladimir makarov x you #vladimir makarov x reader #makarov #cod mw #modern warfare #vladimir makarov fluff #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod #mw3 2023 #call of duty modern warfare 3 #modern warfare 3 #modern warfare iii #call of duty mw3

[fan-goddess]

I need for kinktober aemond with daddy kink x innocent!reader so badddddd :((

my birthday’s on the 10th and I would love to see it there :))

Authors Note: Happy Birthday! Please do take this as my present to you I hope you have a nice day! Also, I changed daddy to kepa, just as I thought the Valyrian word would suit him better.

Warnings: P in v smut, corruption, daddy kink, innocent reader, power imbalance, (if I miss any let me know)

Taglist: @mochi-rose, @valeskafics, @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @sofiyathecunt, @marvelgirl123, @sylasthegrim, @blue-serendipity, @omgbrcat

The newest maid was nice to look at, Aemond thought. You were nice in general too. You’d always make eye contact with him and never stare at his eye with disgust. Whenever you knew he was sad, you would always sneak an extra lemon tart to him at dinner. He could never dare tell you how he found the dessert a little too sweet on his tongue.

Yet there’s other things he could never dare tell you. He couldn’t tell you how he dreams of taking you in the middle of the night, when he could not sleep and only had his hand for company. He could not dare to venture to the silk street. Not after what happened those many years ago…

“My prince? I’ve brought you those books that you requested.” You say, bringing him from his inner turmoil.

“Ah yes thank you dōna riña. I appreciate the effort.” He says, turning his head to look at you as you place the heavy looking books on his desk.

“It is no problem my prince! Besides, I will soon not be doing these tasks so I’ve decided to take as much joy as I can in doing them as of late.”

“What do you mean you won’t be doing these tasks soon?” The statement makes his head jerk to stare intently. The grip of his chair has tighten and Aemond already knows his face has turned stern to hide his shock.

“Well, my parents back home have decreed that it is time I marry. So they have found a nice man for me and have decided in a months notice I’ll return to them and he’ll take me as his bride.”

The anger Aemond feels at that moment is greater than anything he’s felt in his life. Even more than when he lost his eye. His fists force themselves clench at his side to stop himself from taking ahold of you and keeping you here by his side.

As there’s another, more satisfactory way of doing that, which’ll no doubt be better for the both of you.

“Do you like this man byka mēre?”

“I cannot say my prince. For I have never met him. All I have been told is his name, and what it is I should do for him as his wife. Although, I must say I was confused as I read them.”

“Oh? Why were the words so confusing?”

“Because they told me of giving him pleasure, and about how I should lie on my wedding bed and allow him to ‘take me’. But the thing is my prince, I have no idea what it is my family is saying to me…”

Any words Aemond had thought of using to reply to your confession does the minute he attempts to speak them. His fists, which once clenched as his side with anger, now clench with self restraint. How could this, creature made by the mother herself, be married to some old fuck of a lord who will show you an unfulfilled life?

Maybe that will be his reason when he claims you tonight for himself…

For whilst he has always fulfilled his duty as a second son, he has been making his worth known his whole life, and it is time he indulges on it with someone of his choosing.

Aemond rises from his chair for a moment before leaning to you and carefully brushes a strand of hair from your face. He feels the urge to grin when he sees the way your face has changed to a light pink.

“What if I was to show you these acts? Then you can be sure to know what to do on your wedding night?”

“A-are you sure? I’m not sure-“

“Do you not trust your prince byka mēre? Is that it?”

“No no no my prince it is not-“

“Then I do not see the issue. So be a good girl byka mēre and get on that bed, and lay on your back for me.”

“Yes my prince…”

“No. Do not call me that. I have heard your lips say that title long enough to commit it to memory. I think I’d like to hear something new spring from your lips byka mēre. Call me kepa.”

“O-okay kepa…” The words make all the blood rush to his cock, and it only worsens when he sees you laid out for him, looking at him with hooded eyes.

“Good girl…” He mutters, as he stalks towards you.

When he gets close enough, his hands travel up the length of your naked legs, and stops at the skin of your upper thigh.

“I’m going to pull up the length of your dress now byka mēre. I need to reveal your cunt to me for me to help you.” Maybe he should feel bad about how he’s effectively taking advantage of you. But it being bad felt this good, how could he ever resist?

His mouth kisses slightly the soft skin of your upper thigh, just a little below where your smallclothes are, sucking small bruises to hear the whimpers you seem to be unable to contain.

Aemond has to try to contain his satisfied grin when he swiftly tears your smallcothes clean off. Yet even he cannot contain his groan of arousal when he feels the slight wet patch that had formed there.

“Such a good girl…” He groans, leaning in to lick a thick stripe of your cunt and practically moaning at the taste. It’s sweet to the tongue, possibly due to the strawberries he sees you consume at least three times a day. But it’s easily one of the best things he’s had in his entire life.

It gets even better when he hears your broken moans above him, and the feeling of your hands gripping desperately at his hair and the sheets. When your legs try to close around his head, his hands grip at your naked thighs tightly to keep you still.

“Kepa please! S-somethings happening!” He hears you whine. The sound of you begging for him makes him want to grind against the bedding for any sort of available friction, but he can’t risk cumming already and wasting his load. Not when it needs to be taking root inside of you…

“You want kepa to pleasure you more huh?” Aemond grins, relishing in the sad noise you make when he takes his mouth away from your glistening heat to lazily suck at the skin of your thighs.

“More?” You whisper. Your eyes a glazed mess as the look at him.

“Yes byka mēre. I can make you feel even greater pleasure than the small fraction you felt now. Would you like that?”

“Yes…”

“Yes what byka mēre?”

“Yes kepa…”

“What a good fucking girl I have in my bed…” Aemond groans, smiling at the sight of you preening at his words before striping himself nude in front of you. His ego certainly swells when he sees you can’t take your eyes of his erect cock.

“W-will it even fit kepa?” You murmur as you eye him in anxiousness.

“Even if it doesn’t at first. I’ll make it fit…” He says, taking his cock in his hand and positioning himself at your entrance.

He slides himself in slowly. Taking the time to make sure you were comfortable and not in pain. Though by the amount you were leaking when he was licking you, he guessed you were wet enough for what he was about to do.

When Aemond got halfway in, his impatience took over and made him thrust the rest of his cock in. And as soon as you gave him the nod of approval, he was officially a man possessed.

He couldn’t stop himself from thrusting as hard and deep as he could inside you. The sounds of your moans seemed to spur him on as-well, the high pitched whines ringing all throughout the room for him to hear. He almost wishes he could put a hand over your mouth to make sure only he can hear you. But then that would push you away, and he can’t have that not at all…

“O-oh Aemond! S-somethings happening!” You shout, digging your nails into the skin of his back and tilting your head back so much he gets the temptation to place a bite on your neck.

Which he does with a grin as he pinches at your clit with his pointer and index fingers. The sound of your surprise as it blended into a sound of pleasure was one Aemond doesn’t think he could ever forget.

“Don’t worry about it byka mēre… it’s just your peak.” He says, pinching your pearl harder as you clench more and more around his cock as it throbs at the feel of you.

As you do peak, he can feel the warmth that surrounded his cock get tighter, and its what brings him to his peak to. He can feel the warmth of his cum entering you, and when he pulls out finally, he can see his cum dripping out of you in thick drools. It almost makes him want to fuck your all over again.

Yet he doesn’t for your sake. The sake of his pretty little maid who has no idea what they’ve done. Still, he sits beside you still naked as the day he’s born and moves you to rest your head on his chest. Your hand caresses his chest, and he intertwines it and with his own.

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #my works #aemond targaryen/reader

[formulafootball66]

delicate -  neymar jr

a/n: oh god, this one contains smut, i’ve never written smut before so, watch out i guess! ps! i snuck in some taylor swift references, from her song delicate pairing: neymar jr x reader warning: language, smut, slight angst (fighting) wordcount: 3000 summary: fake dating with neymar changes into something more

“Come on, we have to be at the event at 8. Are you almost ready, anjo?” Neymar asked, waiting impatiently for you. He stood in the bedroom of the hotel room, which was attached to the bathroom you were in. You two shared a room for once purpose – being seen arriving and leaving together. You were currently getting ready for yet another celebrity party. He was your date, as always, even though you weren’t really dating.

The reason why you were intertwined in this fake relationship, is that you’re just here to make him look good. It was for your own profit too. Over the years, Neymar has built quite the playboy status. This status, the almost slutty one, made brands not wanting deals with him and gave him a bad reputation. You were the internets good girl, the golden girl. The angel. The sweetheart. You never had been caught in any affair, never had an awful break up and had never had a cheating scandal.

Both of your managers got together and decided it would be good for both of you. He would be able to save his reputation, you gained fame. It felt unreal, now thinking about the moment.

It was 8 months ago, you were just got ready to start your day. Today was not going to be a productive day, you were just going out with your friends. Then you got a call from your manager, asking you to come to the office as soon as possible.

You arrived and when you walked in you saw him immediately. The number one heartthrob of the world. The guy who had a new girl every week. Neymar da Silva Santos Júnior. You looked around you confused. What was he doing here?

“What’s going on?” you asked, looking at your manager. Miss Delara has been here for since the take off of your career. From the first movie to the most recent one. She has grown to be your rock.

“Y/N, please sit down.” A guy, probably Neymar’s manager, said. You do what he asked, but shot him an irritated glance. What was going on? You look at Neymar and give him a nod, not really knowing how to greet him. You have only met him twice and both those interaction were short and just polite. He ignores you, that asshole.

“So Y/N, Neymar, you’re probably wondering why you are here.” His manager said. “Well, that’s because of me. I asked Miss Delara for a favor and she thought it was a good idea.”

You felt clueless, how does this explain anything?

“Cause Neymar, you can’t keep acting like this. Adidas is about the stop your contract with them. You have been getting so much hate on social media and parents don’t want you walking with their kids down the field anymore. I never thought you would let it come that far.” He said following up his earlier statement.

“Eu não me importo (I don’t care)! I’m just living my life and why the fuck is she here?” he all of sudden snapped. Jeez. This guy really had some issues.

“No Neymar, you’ve let it come to far like I said. We need to change your media presence. I want a positive, happy and loving Neymar in my twitter feed. I don’t want to see another article about you leaving a club with 5 girls.”

Neymar is clearly upset and about to go of about this shit.

“Uh, I’m sorry, but what am I doing here?” You asked carefully. You just felt like you didn’t belong in this conversation.

“Y/N, you have a perfect reputation, right?” He asked and you nodded not really knowing what to do. “You might be able to save his. Miss Delara and I had this idea, where you just go out for a while, go in public, let the paparazzi take photos of you. Let Neymar build this perfect boyfriend reputation, let you gain fame from all of this-“

“No fucking way,’ Neymar said, cutting his own manager off. “No fucking way,” he said once more.

“Please Neymar, you’ll gain so much from this. You’ll gain the old love and affection back. On the pitch, off the pitch. Just think about those days.”

This clearly made Neymar rethink it, the three of you could clearly see that he relived those glorious memories again. But how did you feel about it? You just felt confused. Sure, gaining more fame from dating him would be nice. But staying around him all the time? You’d rather not.

“Do you both agree?” Miss Delara said, but she was mainly looking at you. She really knew you. She noticed the way you were more quiet than usual.

“I do agree. My reputation never been worse, so.” He said, clearly having his mind made up already.

Now all their eyes were on you. “Well I’d rather not date him, even if it was fake.” You said. Had you really just said that in front of him? But then again, it was kind of his own fault for acting like a douchebag.

“So much for being the sweet golden girl, huh? Is it all an act? You’re not an angel at all, are you?” He said seductively, implying something you don’t want to think about. You felt your cheeks getting hot.

“That’s enough. Y/N, you need this. You’re new movie just came out and extra promotion is always welcome. You have to agree.

So you did.

You finished your makeup, realizing you had been lost in your memories for a minute. You almost couldn’t believe why you almost said no to this deal. He treats you well, is respectful and occasionally buys you gifts. He is good to you, even when you are in private.

“Damn, I’ve never seen that color blue. Looks good on you.” He says in admiration. His eyes scanning over your body, which looks great in the light blue dress. The lower neckline shows your chest off nicely, but was still classy. The slit went all the way up your leg and made your legs look longer then they are. You looked stunning.

He clearly agreed, he thought you look so pure, so perfect and most of all so delicate. It was the perfect way to describe you. Delicate. Like a flower. Just so beautiful and he was afraid to shatter it. He almost zoned out thinking about you, but he made himself snap out if of it.

“We should just stay here, querida, I don’t want to share.” He suggested.

You let out a slight chuckle. “Let’s keep it professional, shall we?”

“Well, we should.”

You look at him confused. What does he mean with ‘should’? You decided to ignore him and grab his hand. “Let’s just go to the party,” you tell him.

“No staying here then?”

You gave him a knowing look and shot you a defeated one back. “Fine, we’ll go.”

At the party, the both of you just fell into your usual routine. When you arrived you posed, when you stepped in the club you hold each other close, and a while later you do you your own thing. Then you reunite and dance with each other. While dancing, he whispered his usual sweet talk in your ear and due to the drinks you had you gave in. The look on his face was priceless when you said something not even remotely similar back.

The rest of the evening you hung out with your friends and soon the party came to an end. You got invited to the after party. You told your girlfriends you would let Neymar know you were going to the party and they were excited. You usually went straight home after the real party.

“Hey,” you said, pressing a kiss on his cheek.

“Ei bêbe, ready to go home?” he asked you. He put his glass back on the bar and already signed to the barman that he wanted to pay. He then pointed at you, signaling he was paying for you too.

“Actually, I’ve got invited to some kind of rooftop after party, the girls and I were planning on going. Are you okay with that? Or do you want to join?”

“Oh. You really want to go?” He said, his voice sounded mildly disappointed.

“Yeah, it’s been a while since I have been out on a girls night.”

He tried to fake a smile, but failed miserably. “No, it’s okay! I just don’t feel like another party, so I’ll go home, alright? You stay safe, meu vida.”

“I’ll see you at our room again. Drive save!” You walked of happily, pleased with knowing he was okay with it. You were happy that you finally went out with your girls.

What you didn’t notice was Neymar’s sadden stare following you all the way out of the door.

~

It was about three in the morning, you were exhausted, but happy to be back in your room. It was a good party. Good people, good music and overall good vibes. You had a great night.

“Ney, I’m back!” you yelled, not caring that there are probably people sleeping in this building. When you didn’t get a response, you were confused. “Ney?” you tried again, no response. Shit, he was probably asleep. You walked over to bedroom hoping you’d find him there. You did.

He was laying on the bed, with his headphones on. Even though his eyes were closed, the expression his face portrayed looked almost angry, but you thought he maybe was deeply focused on his music. You went to sit on the end on the bed. You tap twice on his leg and he removes his headphones.

“You should turn down your volume, dumbass! I was yelling the other second and I got no response!” you fake scolded him.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, not really making eye contact with you. You ignored him, you figured he was just mad about you ruining his song.

“You really missed out on this party, Ney! At some point, Riley got so drunk she was jumping from float to float in the pool! Then Ariel was flirting with the bartender and got us all free drinks-“

“Am I a fucking joke to you?” he interrupted, tone much harsher than usual.

You looked at him confused. “What the hell are you saying?” You felt yourself getting mad at him, how dare he raise his voice to you like that? Where was his respect?

“I asked, do you think it’s fucking funny to tell me you’re going out with your friends?” He asked again, clearly angrier too.

“I was out with my friends? What are you on about?”

“Stop acting dumb. We both know that was just an excuse of yours to grind down on this assholes dick!” He yelled, almost scaring you. You weren’t scared though, because you knew you were in the right. You’d never do anything like that, even in this fake relation. You knew how important it was to make this relation seem perfect, 24/7.

“What are you talking about?” You yelled back at him. He threw to you his phone and you saw Twitter opened. You clicked on the video and your friends. You also saw the guy dancing with your best friend, who you were according to Neymar grinding on, being a respectful distance away from you.

“Is this what you’re dramatic about?” You asked and raised an eyebrow. He looks at you like your some kind of ghost. “He’s touching you!”

“It was merely a touch Neymar! Our shoulders brushed once!”

“Yeah, and then he looked at you!” Now he was really pushing it. He was making such drama over a guy looking at you! What had gotten into him?

“If you make this big of a drama about some guy looking at me, you have a lot of issues, Ney. And if I did dance with somebody, why would you care? We’re only dating for our business life, for fucks sake!” There, you finally said it. Why was it bothering him so much?

Living in an illusion was fun, until you couldn’t see the difference between reality and fantasy anymore.

That’s how you felt right now.

“Because Y/N! Because it drives insane knowing other men look at you, because the idea of any other person touching you makes me crazy. I get so jealous. I don’t want to imagine someone else with what is mine. I am sick of only pretending your mine all the damn time. Acting like I don’t want that to be the truth. But what drives me the most mad of all of these things? That you still haven’t realized that I’m madly in love with you,” he let out, finally spoken his truth. The words that he had been holding back for months now.

“You love me?” was the only thing you were able to say, not knowing how to react. But you already knew what you wanted to say. When he said how he felt about you, all the puzzle pieces fell into place. So did the feeling you have been keeping to yourself for months now. The warm, homey feeling he bought you. The ultimate comfort you found in him, the way your heart fluttered when he smiled and the way he could give you everything by just being there for you.

“I do, Y/N. I’m sorry it took me a douchebag to realize that.” He said, finally looking in your eyes. You saw a glint of hope, but a lot of fear in his hazel eyes.

“Kiss me, please,” you simply said. You weren’t able to express any of your feelings right now. You felt overwhelmed by everything happening. He didn’t take long to realize what you said an scooted closer to you.

He cupped your jaw softly, looked at you with adoration and passion. His other hand in your hair, which was already messed up by a long night of going out. He pulls you closer and your you can feel his breath. He finally kisses you, but this time it was not one of your quick kisses, just for the photos. No, this time, he wanted to feel every part of you. He took his time, slowly pulling you on his lap.

You felt the kiss grow more heated as his tongue slid in your mouth. Your tongues found their own rhythms. His hand that was holding your jaw gently, moved to your ass and gave it a squeeze. Not expecting this actions, you let out a slight moan and accidentally grinded your hips on him. Earning a groan from him, you felt his dick under you grow harder.

He broke the kiss and let his forehead rest against your head. “Fuck baby, look what you’ve done.”

You looked down a saw a slight wet spot on his pants. “You want to fix that for me, anjo?”

You nodded and got off of his lap, getting on your knees in front of the bed. He kicked out his sweatpants and got rid of his boxers. You looked a little too long at his cock in full glory, it standing up proud and in full glory.

“Fuck, you look so pretty on your knees,” he managed to bring out. You couldn’t respond. “Aw, has my little innocent girl gone a little dumb?”

You nodded again, but now finally taking actions. You hands ran up and down his base and after a few strokes, you began giving him kitty licks all over. Giving more attention to his sensitive red tip, he was a groaning mess for you.

“Stop teasing. I want you. Take it like the good girl I know you are.” He grunted -  wanting more from you then you were currently giving. Those words got him what he wanted; him calling you a good girl clearly affecting you. You did what he requested, you took him in your mouth. Not having that much experience, you couldn’t fit everything you wanted. So, you pumped what you couldn’t fit.

You’re still moving slow, holding that teasing pace. But after a bit of that he grew impatient. He needs to feel you, deeper and harder. Not only sucking him off for the sake of teasing him. He wanted you to make him cum, not make him wait. His hands gripped your hair harshly and he starts fucking your face. While he was doing this, he constantly told you how good you were doing.

This sudden movement from him, caused you to tear up. Gagging on his cock, which was deeper than ever before, you couldn’t the few tears rolling down your face. He kept his fast pace and after a minute or two he starts groaning loudly. This was the signal for you that he was almost coming undone. You put in a bit more effort and tried to suck him harder. You felt his cock twitch inside your mouth.

“Shit, anjo. Is it okay if I come in your mouth?” he asked for permission. You let out an agreeing mumble and nodded. A few seconds later he came with groans you’d swear the whole hotel had heard.

He drops himself on the bed. “You did so good for me.” He praised, making you blush. “Give me a minute and I’ll return the favor, alright?”

You laughed and knew it was going to be a long night.

~

In the morning you were exhausted, not getting a lot of sleep tonight. But you definitely didn’t regret anything. No, yesterday was a night you’ll never forget. The way he made scream, the way you get slightly wet thinking about it again. And now you were here, held closely by the chest of your boyfriend.

“Hey anjo. Good morning,” his groggy morning voice said. You smiled and said your good mornings back. When you saw him fading to sleep again, you nudged him. “Ney!”

“Hmm?”

“I love you,” you said softly.

“I know you told me a thousand time while you were having orgasm. During all three of them even.” He said, his subtilty clearly still asleep.

“Way to ruin the moment!”

“You still love me though, that’s all that matters.”

#neymar #neymar jr #neymar fanfic #neymar smut #neymar jr smut #neymar jr one shot #neymar x reader #neymar jr fluff #neymar jr angst #football fanfic #football imagine