bittergomez

[bittergomez]

CHRIS EVANS as JOHNNY STORM/THE HUMAN TORCH DEADPOOL & WOLVERINE 2024 | dir. Shawn Levy

[bittergomez]

Glen Powell can get steamy with as many actresses as he wants but he will never achieve the same chemistry with any of them as he did with Miles Teller.

[bittergomez]

my all time fav mob series

Family Matters - Mobster!Bucky Barnes AU

You should have heeded your father’s warnings to stay away, now HIS demons have come to collect, and they come in the form of the Notorious mob boss James Buchanan Barnes, but is there more than meets the eye?

Warnings:Depictions of violence, smut, dark themes, will post warnings in each chapter.

Series Word Count; 73,330

Series Preview

Past

Unfold

The wolf in your home

Welcome Home

The Uninvited

Alone & Forsaken

Comin For You

Back in Black

A Little Help From My Friends

Penny For Your Thoughts

Break Through

Safe With Me

The Man I Am Is Not The Man I Was

I’ve Got You Under My Skin

Show Me Your Weaknesses

You Get What You Give

Love’s A Loaded Gun

Break On Through

Sweet Hereafter

Every Thug Needs A Lady

SERIES COMPLETED 8/26/2020

[bittergomez]

#GOOD LOKING+!

Your plan was quick and simple. You would go to the kitchen, make some tea to ease your headache, and then return to your comfy bed. You weren't expecting to come across your crew's blonde cook barechested cutting carrots.

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader

Word count: 3k

Warnings: 18+ content, smut, swearing, pet names, big dick sanji, kitchen sex, blow job, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, sanji moaning, p in v type of sex.

Ao3: Good Looking

English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes :) Enjoy!

You are used to this. The utterly exhausted sensation after several hand-to-hand combats, so when the headache started when you finally lay down in bed, you just decided to ignore it; the sleep would catch up before it got.

Until the needed sleep never got you. So, after an hour or two of rubbing your temples and staring at the ceiling while feeling envy-induced annoyance for Nami’s peaceful breathing, you pushed yourself to stand up.

Even if the cool night air almost makes you wish you hadn't left your warm bed, you needed that green tea to stop the pounding headache in the back of your head. The kitchen lights shining through the window went undetected as your mind was busy figuring out how you could prepare the drink quickly so that the pain could cease as soon as possible.

“Oh, it’s you, darling. Is everything alright?” As you walked into the door and recognized Sanji's words, you snapped out of your thoughts and began to look over your surroundings. He was not wearing any type of shirt while he sliced carrots from behind the counter.

Barechested. Topless. Half naked.

“Y-yes, I mean, no. Just a headache.” You gaze the blonde in the eyes as you stumble through your sentences, you are merely vaguely aware that your face is beginning to turn red. “I just want that green tea; I know it's somewhere around here. I saw Nami storing it in the cabinets earlier.”

You felt foolish. You became used to seeing shirtless men given that you lived in the middle of the ocean and therefore often came across Luffy, Usopp, and even Zoro barechested. They would often walk around the deck that way on hot days. Sanji, however, always showed up in a suit or, at the very least, had a formal shirt rolled up to his elbows. Even so, there was no chance of seeing him dressed otherwise since he went to sleep after you and woke up before everyone.

“I can do it for you; it’s my job after all, taking care of my sweet girl.” He placed the knife down, threw the chopped carrots in a nearby pot, and proceeded to go through the cupboards. “Love, do you remember where she stored it? There are plenty of cabinets in this place.”

"What are you doing here?" You instantly regret your tone as you noted Sanji just froze in his search.

“I mean, sorry, the kitchen is your place, I know. I just never saw you here this hour, and me and Luffy go here to do midnight snacks sometimes”

“I could not sleep”

“Me too” Once again, an irrational remark. He was informed that you were having trouble falling asleep; that's why you were there. “Why the carrots?”

“The attack that happened today. I had hoped for more food, but I believe you are aware of how fucked our situation is.” He continued looking for the tea while chuckling flatly. “We don't know when we will receive more supplies; we right now have barely anything stocked. Even the carrot peels have been put to use in an effort to reduce waste, you know.”

You weren't sure how to respond. It was clear that everyone's mood was negatively affected by today's incident. The worry of what would happen in the next few days or weeks was filling your head since Usopp managed to escape the ship. His back was to you, so you were unable to see his facial expressions, but you couldn't help but notice his muscles.

You felt a little guilty since you couldn't take your focus away from it, despite him having just voiced some serious concern. Has he lately started working out, or has he always had muscles like that?

“Are you and Luffy close then?”

The sudden break in silence confused you as he turned toward you with the pot of tea in his hands and a pleased smile.

“I suppose so. After all, he was the one who invited me to join the crew, right?” You smirked at the thought. It wasn't much time—perhaps a few months—and you were losing track of time at sea. “I fearlessly agreed to become a pirate, although I had never spent more than two weeks on a boat.”

“I remember that. You were so naive”

Of course he remembers. When you joined the crew, it was very easy to have a conversation with Sanji; he was constantly complimenting you or flirting in a straightforward manner. You never took him seriously, hearing about the blonde's techniques from Nami from the first day, but it was often hard not to chuckle or blush when he was so…

“Not anymore.”

He grinned at you before returning his attention to the tea. It was impossible to look away from his bare chest. You were unable to rest your mind from imagining how his skin would feel on your hand now that he was in your line of sight. You are already aware that he's a good-looking man, but now seeing more of his body did things to you.

“All right, madam. Here is your tea.” He circles the counters until he's right next to you. Really close. His eyes twinkle with recklessness, and you know he caught you staring at his figure.

You ignore the tickle in your lower belly as you stand there, grab the mug in your hands, and sip while gazing at his face. He still has that typical smirk, and when you finally finish drinking your tea, he glances at your lips before returning to your eyes. Everything becomes fuzzy and hot then.

He's very close. His hand has been lying on the counter, his chest is nearly brushing your own, and you can't help but notice his modest, almost transparent blonde hair in there. Perhaps it's a sign for you to walk away, that this is going in a dangerous direction, but you can't.

“What dear? See something you lik-”

You interrupt him with a kiss; it's all very messy and quick, and he is unable to have time to handle everything. You come to an abrupt halt and stare at him with wide eyes, realizing what you have done.

“Sanji, fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t meant t-”

He didn't let you finish the apologies. His hand pulls your head back, bringing your lips together. The kiss looks right now. It begins carefully, with both sides cautious, but it quickly gets heated as he doesn't hesitate to push his tongue into your mouth.

You’re breathless when he finally pulls away, and his eyes are hungry. He didn't think twice before pressing his open mouth and tongue on your neck. A moan escapes from your lips.

His left hand shifts down to grab your hip, and you catch your breath. Your hands graze his nipples as you reach for his pecs, and he hisses at the fresh sensation in your throat.

“Gods Y/N, you’re going to kill me this way”

You chuckled, and he kissed you again, although this time you took charge, moving one of your hands to his blonde hair before tilting his head to grant you more access. You stop the action just to take a moment to recover and gaze into his dilated pupils. He looks so attractive like that that you can’t help but want to go down on him.

”Sanji,” You whisper breathlessly, enjoying the sensation of his name in your mouth, “let me taste you.”

He groans in response, which you take as encouragement as you lean down and proceed. You lick and kiss the trail that leads to his crotch, and he hisses softly, his abdomen tense beneath your hands and mouth. As you get down on your knees and look at his pants, you can see his erection, which seems big and marked.

You don't hesitate to pull down the waistband of his pants and boxers together, exposing his hard, leaking cock to your eyes. It's big. It's more than you expected. There's a buildup of cum at the head, and you reach forward and wrap your lips around it, licking gently just to tease.

You look up as you swirl your tongue over the tip and dip your tongue into the slit to see him biting his lower lips, his head thrown back. You wanted to see his face while sucking him. So you take him out of your mouth and cautiously wrap a hand around him, teasing him a little with your hand. Your movements are agonizingly slow as you lightly suck and lick the sensitive head until finally he looks down.

“Oh, darling, you’re so pretty like that.” Sanji whined above you, and then your mouth opened around the head of his cock, and he slid it into your mouth. “Fuck, fuck. So… so perfect.”

You can clearly see the blonde struggling to keep his composure, like how his knuckles are white while gripping the counter behind him. You relax your throat, take a long breath through your nose, and exhale slowly before swallowing him whole while gripping his inner thighs.

His penis is large, so the initial sensation isn't the most pleasant, but as he lets out a loud groan, you forget about everything. Something about hearing Sanji whine in the kitchen while you gagged on his cock made the aching between your legs unbearable.

"Oh yeah, Y/N. You are so good to me. Your mouth feels so good in me.”

You moaned softly at his words of praise, making vibrations around his penis, causing another moan from him. His left hand reached from the counter to your hair, and you didn't reject the help while bobbing your head up and down.

“My love, you are so perfec-“

A few tears occasionally escaped as you sucked him and he fucked your throat, sometimes only taking him out to run your tongue along his length. You started to see signs that he was close to cum. One of your hands left the thighs to rub his balls.

 “I… I'm going to cum, Y/N, dear... I" He gives you a chance to pull away from him, but you choose to continue and accept it all. You remove the entire length of his throat and leave just the head in your mouth.

He comes soon after, with a muffled groan, while you attempt to swallow as much as you can before it gets difficult, followed by a satisfied moan coming from you.

You felt his hand leave your hair, and for two or three minutes, you just remained there. He has his head back and is trying to catch his breath while you are on your knees, glancing at his chest and the beads of sweat gathering on his neck. It’s a perfect vision, honestly. You ponder whether he would notice if you began to masturbate right then.

“Come on, madam, let me help you up.” Sanji extends his hand to support you in getting up, and once you are upright, he grabs hold of your waist to keep you close to him.

He kisses you, tasting himself in your mouth. It's slow, and you realize he's still trying to emerge from his afterglow. When he breaks the kiss, that smile returns to his face, and you peck him once more just to get rid of it.

Sanji deepened the kiss again. And fuck, what else could you do but reply in the same aggressive way?

You're hoisted up by the hands on your hips and thrown onto the counter. The blonde is now between your legs, breaking the kiss, only to go straight to that specific spot on your neck that you're almost certain will leave a mark in the morning.

“Oh- Sanji,” You try to speak breathlessly as he licks your collarbone and his fingers brush the hem of your t-shirt, “You don’t h-have to do that.”

It wasn't that you didn't want Sanji. Since you entered that kitchen and spotted him without a shirt, you wanted this. Yet, you took the decision to give him an opportunity to back out, be thankful for the blowjob, and never bring up the matter again. Him taking you would be very personal.

“Please, my love,” You can hear the yearning in his voice as he whispers in your ear. “I just want to make you feel good too.”

You nod, and he attacks your mouth once again while his hands pull the hem of your t-shirt, exposing your chest, and you can't stop yourself from moaning at being so bare to him.

He doesn't think twice about placing his mouth on your breasts as he rolls the hard bud between his teeth and tongue and gives the other one a gentle stroke with his other hand. He bites your nipple as your head is flung back, and all you can do is pray that no one hears your loud scream.

He takes his mouth from your breasts and begins a trail down your stomach, and you can't stop whining due to the lack of warm sensation from his tongue in your niples, but you quickly figure out where he's headed as he lowers himself between your thighs.

He doesn't ask for permission as he aggressively rips off your shorts and, along with them, your underwear, revealing your pussy to him. He pulled your hips closer and dragged a finger down your folds, then placed it inside his mouth.

"Oh, you're so soaking wet, just for me, hm?" You are so stunned by the sight that you hardly pay attention to what the blonde is saying. “You taste so good, my darling.”

You stand on your elbows and glance at the man who is standing in between your legs. You can't help but gasp at the taunting as he starts giving you small small bites and kisses along your inner thighs. But you want him now.

“Oh Sanji, stop teasing for fuc-“

He didn't wait for you to finish the curse word before burying his face, pushing his tongue against your wet pussy, and licking a long, temptingly slow strip through your folds until he reached your sensitive bud.

In an attempt to create more friction, you thrust your hips into his mouth, and your left hand immediately settled on his blonde hair. Sanji found the ideal pattern to swirl his tongue over your clitoral region, leaving you panting for air.

He pushed two fingers deep within you, and you felt your walls clenching around them, sucking him in. His pace was fast, and he was still paying careful attention to your clit, leaving you close to the edge. You were a mess, and it wouldn't take long for you to cum. Yet you still needed him; you wanted more.

You sucked in a sharp breath and tried to block out the inappropriate sounds echoing through the kitchen.

“Sanji, p-please more”

"Use your words, my angel." You could see the glistening fluids from your pussy plastered on his chin when he pushed his head off of your thighs. “What do you want?”

“Fuck me, oh g-gods. I need you inside me." At your words, he groaned and took both of his fingers out to direct his cock at your entrance.

It wasn't difficult for him to enter since you were so soaked. At the feeling of it, you both simultaneously moaned. You felt completely filled; he just stood there for a while, waiting for you to get used to the size, until you signaled for him to start moving. It began off slow, but soon he started out moving his hips at a faster pace to satisfy both of you.

"You're perfect,” he moaned in two thrusts, and you had to put your hand over your mouth. “Look at you, taking my cock so well, oh darling.”

The hands on your hips let go and grabbed you under your right thigh, opening your legs and hitting you more deeply and faster. You thought you were seeing stars when he hit an exact spot inside your pussy that made you shout.

“Cum for me, my love. I know you want”

It didn't take long for your orgasm to hit you after that, your eyes rolled back and you let out a whine sound as you felt your walls squeeze his dick. He moaned along with you at the feeling and a few more thrusts and he came inside you.

Sanji's head fell directly to your shoulder, and you instinctively placed your palm in his blond locks. While the fluid was slowly dripping out of you, he continued to remain deep inside and breathe loudly.

He raised his head only to smile recklessly while glancing into your mouth. “So, do you still have a headache?”

Your hand reached out to push him, but you were helpless to suppress the giggles that came. He drew away from inside you but was still between your knees as he chuckled proudly.

“Do you think anyone heard?”

“I'm not sure, maybe when you let out that screa-" You slapped him on the shoulder to cut him off while embarrassed because of the probability. “Ok, ok my darling, next time we’ll find a more private place.”

“Next time, huh?

Sanji stood still with an anxious smile on his face; it was almost hilarious how someone so confident in themselves would respond in that manner. You wrapped his neck with both of your arms and gave him a quick kiss to reassure him that everything was fine.

"You should come to the kitchen more often, preferably alone.”

"And you should go shirtless more often too.”

"Only for you, my love.”

You gave him another kiss before leaving the counter, getting ready to go, and returning to the bedroom. Even though the night seemed to be becoming lighter, you were aware that there were still a few hours until sunrise. It was evident that there would be plenty of issues to address when you awoke, but for the time being, you were content, even though you were a little exhausted from the activities. As sleep came, all you could think of was Sanji and his smile.

© HTTPSCLARYE, 2023

[bittergomez]

Glue Song (Pt. 3)

summary: jake’s unsure if he could hide his feelings for you anymore.

pairing: jake seresin x female reader.

warnings: 18+ blog.

a/n: friends to lovers, suggestive themes 18+, pining, and angst. ahh final part is here! i had so much writing this, thank you for loving this story as much as i do.

word count: 2.6k.

previous part

Javy has never felt so guilty in his life. 

He thought he was doing his best friend a favor, cornering him to make a move on you—but watching Jake maneuver around like a soulless body on base for the past week kills him. 

What was worse was watching Jake’s face completely fall when he learned that Rooster has been texting you. 

Javy had to painfully force himself to stare down at his boots after seeing Jake’s reaction to Rooster asking him if he has any pictures of you—needing a contact picture set for you. 

Of course Jake has pictures of you. He had plenty. His favorite one being an off-guard picture he took after you woke up from a nap at his place. Sleepiness still had a hold on you but it was the exact moment where Jake thought you resembled an Angel. You were sitting in his wrinkled white sheets, mouth parted, shocked you slept through the whole day as you stared at the sun setting through his blinds. 

And Jake sends that photo over to Bradley, feeling like he ripped a piece of himself and just casually left it in Rooster’s care.

Despite not looking over at his friend anymore, Javy can feel the heartache radiate off of Jake from across the locker room. 

Jake stares blankly at the television in front of him. He’s tried to distract himself after today’s flight training by watching the office. 

But that was a grave mistake—him attempting to watch it without you, because it makes him think of you even more. He watches as Kevin drops down to his knees trying to scoop up the chili he spilled back into a tall pot and it makes Jake tear up rather than laugh. He began to pathetically empathize with the spilled pot of chili. 

Suddenly, his phone buzzes from the kitchen and he gets up to fish it from his bag on the counter, desperate to stop himself from crying at a sitcom series. 

Javy created a group chat, trying to find a remedy to the problem he caused. 

Jav 😎 & Angel 

Jav 😎: 

*attachment*

guys, this is us. 

Jake cracks a sad smile looking down at the picture Javy sent of three puppies cuddling on a soft throw blanket. 

Angel: 

*attachment* 

these two are me and jake :) 

His heart tugs as you sent back the same picture, but there’s a circle drawn around the two golden retrievers on the left. The smaller pup is slung over the bigger one, affectionately licking it’s face.  

Jav 😎:

Wow. 

leaving me out? 

I miss you guys. 

Jake 👱🏻‍♂️: 

*attachment* 

miss u too. 

Javy scoffs from where he stands in his apartment complex’s gym, staring down at the picture Jake sends back. It’s the same picture Javy sent earlier, but there’s an addition of a pink heart drawn between the two puppies on the left and a massive red X marked over the third puppy’s face. 

Jav 😎:

…Jerk.

Angel: 

Miss you too Javy! 

It’s Friday night and Jake watches earnestly as you wipe away at your lipstick for what feels like the tenth time, frustrated that you can’t find the right shade. Your eyes wander over the lip colors you brought over, weakly reaching for one that you haven’t tried yet. He lets out a soft sigh, sitting up from his bed and lightly pries the lipstick from your hand, dropping it down on the make-shift vanity he set up for you. 

Jake wordlessly guides you to stand up, carefully reaching for your wrist to lure you outside the confines of his bedroom. You follow closely behind, staring hard at his back, your mind swirling at what’s to come.

Ever since you came over to his apartment with a bag of things you needed to prepare for the night ahead, there were no words exchanged between the two of you besides a quiet greeting. You two sent friendly texts back and forth over the past few days in your group chat with Javy but you both never attempted to address the unknown conflict that stands between you two.

You mindlessly watch as he leads you through his empty hallway and right into his living room. Jake drops the feather light hold he had on your wrist. He tiredly settles down on his sofa, leaning his head back–face pointed towards the ceiling as his eyes shut in contemplation.

Jake listens to your feet shuffle closer towards him, feeling you finally sink down on the cushion beside him. 

You sit–legs criss-crossed over each other, body facing towards Jake’s side, observing how exhaustion was clearly written across his features. His skin is noticeably dull, making it hard for you to spot the birthmark that sat under his left eye that you loved so much. You fought off the urge to reach for his face, knowing the timing isn’t right. 

Jake thickly swallows, and you watch as that vein in his neck makes an appearance again. A guilty thought eats at you, you’re the reason why he’s so uncomfortable right now. 

“Jake..”

Your voice is barely audible, yet your dejection is loud and clear to him. 

Jake feels like the ceiling above him had fallen straight onto his chest. 

He attempts to open his mouth to speak, but quickly shuts his parted lips once he feels a cry creep up his throat.

Jake is overwhelmed, you can tell. 

He feels you reach for his hand and he has to hold back the tears brimming beneath his heavy lids. Even when he’s given you a bit of a cold shoulder, you still comfort him. 

You sweetly attempt to coax him to speak again, flatly pressing your palm against his very own–admiring the way his thick fingers compare to yours.

“I can’t hear what you’re thinking Jake..” you whisper, just loud enough for him to hear. 

He lets out a shaky breath, your attention shifts from his hands back to his side profile again. 

Your heart tenders, feeling him lace his fingers through yours. 

“Thinkin about you.” he whispers back, opening his eyes, staring at the white pebbled ceiling as if it’ll help him string together his next sentence.

He strokes his thumb against the side of your finger that wraps around his own, trying to carefully pick through his stream of thoughts. 

“Did I do something wrong Jake?” you’re trying to remain calm but he hears your voice crack at the question.

He hates himself for making you feel like this because he can’t figure out how to control his feelings for you.

“Do you like Rooster?” 

It’s a childish question, he knows. But he needs to hear your answer, preparing himself for the worst. 

The question hangs in the air for a while before you begin to understand why he’s asking you this. 

“Of course I do,” you begin to answer.

“But never more than you, Jake.” 

He quickly shuts his eyes again, deciding to bite the bullet. 

“I like you more than Rooster too.” he pauses before speaking up again. 

“And to answer that question..the one you asked me last month, I’d still love you as a worm. I think-If Rooster was a worm, I’d feed him to the nearest starving bird. You wouldn’t let me–that I know, but I’ll still try anyway.” he quickly catches his breath before continuing his tangent.

“...But if you were a worm I’d make a little sanctuary for you. And maybe give you a kiss when no one’s looking, because–you’d be a needy worm, but you’re also shy…so you’d obviously hate the PDA. You’d also want a lot of attention and I’d give it to you.” Jake feels himself internally cringe, but the words had already shot out of his mouth like vomit.

To any other person, Jake would seem like he’s rambling nonsense. But it's a good thing you’re not just anyone. You know exactly what he’s trying to say. 

“I think you’re my favorite person too, Jake.” 

You patiently observe him while he takes in what you said. Jake is still not facing you.

There is a familiar ripple of silence that falls over you two. The same one that encases you both before you two come to a silent understanding together. One where you agreed that touching Jake’s face was okay, one where you both decided that holding hands is perfectly normal in your friendship, and one where you two realize how you feel about each other.

“I love you.” he confesses.

You watch as he slowly turns his head to look at you, peeling his eyes open again. Jake’s stare lingers on your face, seeing all the features he could easily sketch from memory. 

“I love you too, Jake.”

You blink back at him, mouth twitching from the way his eyes linger down to your lips.

Jake seizes the moment, hand slowly unraveling from your smaller ones. You suddenly feel his hand graze at the side of your neck, his pointer finger sits right on your pulse point, which hammers loudly against his fingertip–and all you can do is watch as he turns his body to fully face you.

He encourages you to meet him in the middle as he softly tugs you forward with the free hand that unknowingly wrapped itself around your wrist–pulling you into him. 

You close your eyes, feeling him eagerly slotting his lips against your own soft ones. In the dimly lit room, your hands begin to travel to the back of Jake’s neck, softly tugging at the hair that sits there. 

He hums, feeling you crawl onto his lap, you turn your head to move against his lips at a new angle–desperate to get him closer to you in any way. 

His shaky hands move down, finding purchase on your hips, and you’re fully consumed by him–senses flaring out of control from his touch. 

He feels you shyly swipe your tongue against his bottom lip, and immediately parts his mouth to let you in. 

Jake feels his brain shortcuting at the sensation of your tongue swirling against his own. It begins to get hard to breathe but you can’t bring yourself to care–too enamored by the way Jake feels against you.

He pulls back, face completely flushed but watches through half lidded eyes as you chase after his lips immediately after he pulls away from you. He can’t deny you, equally eager to feel you again. 

You meet him in another kiss, he kisses you back so tenderly–and you feel yourself completely melt under his grip.

Desperate to show you what you mean to him, he pulls away from you once more–a small smile tugs at his lips when he hears you whine from the loss of him. He immediately latches his swollen lips onto your neck, playfully biting at the hot skin there–and soothing it over with his tongue.

All you could do is tightly grip your hands onto his blonde roots–Jake feels the room spin once your fingers scratch at his scalp.

You look up, vision blurring in your euphoric daze as he presses one last kiss to the midline of your neck. His warm breath hits your skin, leaving goosebumps to appear before he fully pulls away

His pupils are completely shot as you lower your head to look at him. Jake’s eyes graze over the skin on your neck, staring at you as if you were his favorite mural. He doesn’t realize that his hands fell down to your thighs, Jake blinks at the sight of your legs–latched over his hips, your dress had already ridden half-way up your thighs in the midst of the kiss and he feels himself swallow. 

Jake feels his self restraint run thin but he puts you at the forefront of his mind again. He leans forward, eyes shut–sighing as he lets his face fall flat against your shoulder.

“Jake..let’s..stay home.” you begin, voice hoarse from the kiss.

Jake pulls himself together, meeting your tempting gaze. 

“Let’s just rest for tonight, Angel” he offers instead. 

Jake stands, after swiftly moving you off his lap, afraid he’d fold if you were to insist one more time. 

You let yourself recover before reaching for his hand again, “Can we try my new face masks before bed?” 

“Of course.” He smiles down at you, allowing all plans to go to the Hard Deck tonight to completely fly out the window. 

Jake woke up before you, the sun had streamed through his blinds–shining right onto his eyes. 

A few seconds after he wakes, he feels you stir beside him–your arm blindly pawing around the bed to find him.

He grins, pulling you to lay on top of his chest once he has a firm grip on your forearm. 

Jake moves his hand up and down your back, trying to wheedle you back into slumber but it doesn’t work.

He tucks his chin to watch you pull your head out of the crook of his neck. You lean in to peck his lips and he happily kisses you back.

Jake’s brow furrows as you shoot him a disturbed look.

“What?” he curiously laughs.

“Your lips are so dry.” you answer flatly.

“Wha-” he immediately shuts his mouth as you fished out one of your random lip balms from his bedside–carefully gliding the balm over his lips in the dark.

You press and rub your lips together, encouraging Jake to copy your actions.

You smile as he does, until he immediately starts hammering your face in short pecks–kissing you all over the expanse of your face.

Jake feels his heart hammering in his chest as you giggle from his actions. 

Before he gets the chance to pepper more kisses down your neckline you both hear his front door click open.

“Hello? Jake?”

You both still, pulling back from each other to closely listen to the stranger stepping into his living room.

“Listen Man, I’m Sorry! I can’t take it anymore. Okay?” 

You both hear heavy footsteps stream down from his living room to his kitchen.

“You both didn’t show up last night. And I was miserable! The team kept joking that both of my best friends hate me!” Javy yells from the kitchen.

“Please tell me it’s not true.” he pleads.

“Javy, man is that you?” Jake hollers from the bedroom. 

“I brought coffee...it’s not that great but-”

Javy pauses as he watches you both step out from Jake’s bedroom, it’s obvious that he was disrupting something.

Javy focuses his sight on you, doubling over–holding his stomach as he laughs at your appearance.

Jake gets offended, turning around to figure out why he’s laughing at you.

You meet Jake’s eyes and watch as the color drains from his already pale skin.

“What?” you gawk.

You can’t be that horrible looking in the morning right?

You watch as Jake’s fingers reach to touch his lips and realization hits you–You had mistakenly reached for one of your new lipsticks. 

Jake’s lips are smeared in bright red lipstick, the color smudging down to his chin. 

Javy quickly recovers and calls both your names, snapping a picture once you both turn to look at him with horror stricken looks on your faces. 

“Contact me when you need this picture for your wedding.” he announces, grinning down at his recently captured image. 

“Okay.” Jake shrugs, giving in.

“Jacob.” He feels a chill run down his spine.

Javy watches as Jake suddenly stalks over to where he stands.

“Hey! Stop! Get your hands off me!”

You can’t fight the smile that makes its way to your face. Jake and Javy are both grinning as they wrestle on the floor for Javy’s phone–both of them unforgiving as they childishly slap each other's faces in bursts. You know for sure now, that moving here was the best decision you had ever made. 

thank you for reading, and as always-reblogs are greatly appreciated!

join my taglist here or follow me on @waklman-library & turn on notifs there to be notified when i post!

not my gif! if anyone knows the creator please let me know!!

[bittergomez]

Ghosts & Mirages (18+ Fanfic Masterlist)

Summary: An Ongoing fanfic Series of Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley and Sargeant Codename "Mirage" (The f!reader. This is my OC, but I made reader INCREDIBLY detail inclusive. Imagine her however you want!)

Render Artwork: @ave661

Warning: Nearly each and every chapter contains HEAVY, HEAVY themes involved, ranging from dark to light topics, Will contain warnings for each part, as some contain more than one chapter, please beware!

Warnings Vary: From Smut, Gore/Violence, Fluff, and Dark Themes-MOSTLY MENTIONS (Ex: self harm)

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

Part 1- Now You Seen 'Em, Now You Don't

Part 2- Consequences

Part 3- Clouded Conscience

Part 4- The Switch

Part 5- Cherished Spirits

Part 6- Angel of Small Death

Part 7- La Dama Sin Cara

Part 8- Las Illusiones

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

Here is an incredibly tasteful audio collab, based off ‘Clouded Conscience’, with the Incredible Badjhur himself!!

PLEASE READ: I am not posing/or a fake acc. I am the MAIN author for this series. PLEASE read here for more info. <3

[bittergomez]

Ipseity (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader)

Part of the "Anything" verse, can be read as a standalone.

Summary: When the 141 has to make a choice between saving you or a fellow sniper, you know that your time has come to an end.

A/N: This was meant to be a short filler and now it's like 4.5k long. Hope you're all happy.

Category: Angst || Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Graphic Language | Graphic Violence | Gun Violence | Graphic Description of Injury

The ringing in your ears woke you up. 

It was a high-pitched squeal that scrambled your thoughts and made your head pound. You couldn't think straight, you couldn't get past the overwhelming dizziness whenever you tried to raise your chin.

Blood stung your eyes. Your chest burned. You hadn’t been in this much pain in years, every pinch of your nerves prodded at long-forgotten childhood memories. They were things that had been left behind from before you enlisted, things that no longer mattered. What mattered was that you were tied to a chair and barely breathing. 

You were going to die here. 

And nobody was coming to save you. 

"Oh,” someone crooned from behind your seat. You didn’t have the strength to turn your neck and you thanked whatever cruel deity was listening that you hadn’t flinched. The least you could do was fake some courage for what was to come. 

“Come back for more?” Your mouth was dry, wretchedly so. You wanted to gag and spit, but there was no moisture in your mouth- it was like sandpaper. 

“There’s not much left in you for me to take, Sol,” Valeria said, her fingers trailing the length of your shoulder. Your body shivered beneath her touch as she slowly circled your chair, a cruel smile tugging at the corner of her lips. 

“Oh, I’ve always got something left for you, gorgeous,” you chuckled, flashing the drug lord a weak grin. 

She snorted, the harsh light of the overhead lamp illuminating the edges of her features. She was a sharp woman, Valeria, somebody that you secretly admired. Not for her deeds or the atrocities she’d committed, but for her tenacity and her ambition- there was no stopping her. 

“You’ve always been my favourite sniper, you know,” Valeria mused, pulling her hand from your skin to inspect it. Your blood stained her fingers, thick and warm from where it had oozed from your wounds.

“You usually kill your favourite snipers?” You tried to raise your eyebrow but sharp pain ripped through your face, you realized dimly that the skin of your forehead had been split.

“Only when they steal things that belong to me, Luz,” Valeria whispered, pressing her hands against the armrests and leaning in. “Then, I kill them.” 

“We didn’t do it,” you met her gaze evenly, the false claim falling easily from your lips. 

“You’d die a liar to protect your friends,” she nodded thoughtfully. “It’s unfortunate that they have chosen not to give you the same courtesy.” 

You frowned, taken aback by the statement. You suspected that the 141 wouldn’t be there in time, you’d come to terms with the fact that your journey might end here. But, the way she’d said it… it was as if you were missing something. 

Valeria’s brows raised, eyes wide as she mocked your surprise with a gasp. “Oh, I must have forgotten to mention it earlier.” 

“Mention what?” You ground out through your teeth. 

The drug lord huffed a laugh, pushing off from your seat and standing upright. Sweat began to form in a thin sheen across your skin, anxiety running rampant through your system. 

What did she mean? 

Valeria’s eyes hardened as she tutted under her breath, pulling the blade on her thigh from its sheath. When her attention turned back to you, the malice in her gaze made your spine straighten. 

“What you stole from me,” she began, pointing the knife towards your face, “got someone very close to me killed.” 

You swallowed thickly, your throat like gravel and your tongue like concrete. 

The woman was seething now, the cool facade that she’d worn had melted into pure vitriol and hatred. It was an expression you’d never seen on her but on so many others throughout the years, it was the stare of someone who blamed you for their loss. 

“So, as penance,” Valeria pressed the tip of the blade to rest against your chest, “your Task Force will have to lose one of their own- even after they bring me the information.” 

“What-” 

“We have the other sniper,” the drug lord shrugged. “The little broken one.” 

Your heart stalled in your chest, fear dousing your body like a bucket of ice water. Blood rushed through your ears, loud and roaring and all-consuming with the sound. You couldn’t think straight, the image of your colleague being tortured flashed across your vision like a spotlight. 

“Birdy.” You whispered the name but it sounded like a plea rather than a statement. Valeria must have heard the begging in your voice because she only smiled. 

“Birdy,” she confirmed, with a smug tilt of her head. 

God, please no. 

“Let them go!” You lurched against your restraints. 

The latina's eyes were like stone, hard and unyielding. She was in pain, she was hurting and now it was her chance to hurt you all for what you’d done.

“I will,” she nodded her head soothingly, fingers coming to trace your trembling jaw. You snatched your face from her touch and she raised a brow. When she leaned back with a sigh, you knew what was coming. 

Valeria struck you hard. 

The wounds on your face screamed and it felt like someone was making you gargle molten lava. Your eyes watered but you made no sound, you gave her nothing to indicate that she’d hurt you. 

“The 141 will bring me what they stole,” Valeria sucked in a breath, watching you from beneath her lashes. “But they can only save one of you.” 

Your eyes widened. 

They can only save one of you. 

You knew then that you were going to die here. 

“What’s the matter, pequeño sol?” Valeria spoke with a mocking lilt. Your body trembled. “You don’t think they will come for you?” 

“No.” 

The word was soft and broken and you wondered if the drug lord had even heard it. The way that her smile wavered implied that she did. 

“No,” she nodded, standing straight. “Neither do I.”

If you hadn’t been so shattered, you would have seen the glimmer of pity pass over her features. 

You took in a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself, "will you keep your word?"

"What?" 

"Will you keep your word?" You repeated firmly. No one was stupid enough to trust the word of a drug lord but right there and then you would take it as law. If you were going to die you needed to know that Birdy would be safe. 

Your eyes bore into hers. Valeria swallowed and you could see her hesitation, the desire to spit on the dying flame in your chest and put it out. 

Instead, the woman only nodded. 

"I will." 

Instantly, you relaxed in your seat and leaned your head back with a sigh. You closed your eyes, fighting the tears that had gathered along your lashes. 

This was it. 

This was the end of it. 

You weren't stupid enough to expect anyone to come save you, not when Birdy's life hung in the balance. There was never a doubt about who was more valued on the team, despite your skills you'd never be able to contend with Birdy's spot on the team. 

It wasn't about who was better, it was about who was loved. 

And nobody in the 141 loved you more than they loved Birdy. 

No one. 

Your lips trembled and you fury rose like a volcanic eruption from within your chest. You would not die crying. You would not die without dignity. 

"I'll be leaving to retrieve my package," Valeria sighed, sheathing her knife. "Once the handover is made, my men will put you down."

You grinned.

"After all we've been through," you feigned hurt. "I thought you'd want to do the honors, gorgeous." 

But Valeria didn't bite. She didn't laugh nor did she retaliate, the woman only watched you with an unreadable expression. 

"We are the same, me and you, Sunshine." The drug lord stood tall, "Deberías haber sido valorado. Morir con orgullo."

You blinked dumbly.  "I don't know what the fuck you said but I'm going to assume you think I'm hot and that you regret not sleeping with me before I die." 

Valeria rolled her eyes and turned away. 

"You act tough, Sol. Don't die thinking this is anything but a betrayal."

Betrayal. 

You offered nothing but a snort, laughing the chill of her words off your spine.

The woman left the room and immediately the silence was overwhelming. There was no one to lie to now, no one to throw your facade at. You found yourself almost asking her to stay as she closed the door behind her, biting your tongue to reserve your dignity. But, you didn't want to be alone, not when the end was approaching so quickly.

 Though, you guess you'd done this to yourself. 

Always good, but never enough. König was your best friend, but you knew he'd leave you in a heartbeat to save the sniper he truly loved- you couldn't ask any differently from him. 

After all, if it had been between him and Ghost, you were sure you'd make the same decision. 

A pathetic tragedy in itself considering the feeling wasn't mutual.

Simon Riley loved Birdy, just as the rest of them did.

You would never compare, you'd never come close, not with your ambitious demeanor- not with your shitty attitude. You'd never allowed yourself to view them as family and when they'd tried to include you, you hadn't let them in. 

If your own family had wronged you, your own flesh and blood, what would the 141 do any differently?

By the looks of the situation: nothing. 

No one was coming to save you. 

The burning beneath your lids became so aggressive you wanted to tear the skin from your face. You wanted to gouge out your eyes, just so that the only thing dripping would be blood- not tears. 

Never tears. 

You were not Birdy, you did not cry. 

You were not Birdy. 

You'd never be Birdy. 

The pressure in your chest grew and swelled and suffocated, extinguishing the fire you'd kept burning for years. Through everything, you'd held strong. Through hellfire and brimstone, you'd crawled your way across death and misfortune to emerge from the ashes stronger. 

You did not break. Not until now. 

A scream ripped from your chest, unrecognizable. It wasn't you who wailed, it was the child inside who mourned their life. It was the adult who'd never been loved the way they'd prayed for in the dead of the night.

Never enough.

Never enough for König, the man who always found himself by Birdy's side, chasing for the crumbs of their attention.

Never enough for Simon Riley, who'd taken your heart and crushed it every time he watched you with distaste- with disappointment.   

You were never the priority. 

Never his priority. 

You'd never be anything to Ghost, not the way Birdy was.

But you were not Birdy and you'd not die wishing that you were. 

You pulled at your restraints, thrashing in your chair with renewed energy. While you knew it was unlikely you'd escape, at least you'd be put down fighting. 

"Hey!" One of Valeria's henchmen shouted. 

You struggled harder, the skin of your wrists ripping from beneath the ties. Fresh blood trailed down your fingers and you smeared it wherever you could reach, wetting the braided rope until it was slick with crimson rage.

Your heart jumped as your hands slipped through the restraints, the gory lubrication helping you pull your crumpled fingers free. 

"Stop!" The cool metal of a barrel pressed against your forehead, putting an instant halt on your plans. 

You glared up at the man before you, his eyes were hard but his hand trembled, the weapon jittering against your skull. 

"I will fucking paint this room with your brains," he hissed, the cigarette in his mouth jolting with each word. "Try me, I dare you." 

"If the 141 comes with the package and I'm dead, Valeria will butcher your entire family, cabrón." You were careful as you spoke, enunciating each word as clearly as you could muster. 

The butt of his weapon struck your cheek hard enough to send stars skittering across your vision. 

"I speak," the man hissed, "not you."

"I'm trying to warn you-" 

He hit you again, this time harder. You felt your teeth dislodge from in your mouth and panic gripped your heart as they slid down your throat. 

"I said don't speak!" He shouted, the words warbled as your vision spun. Your head lolled to the side, gagging as you choked on your own bones. Bile speared through your chest as a combination of blood and stomach acid hit the floor weakly. Your teeth clattered across the ground, like dice rolling across the board. 

"Ricky!" The man called over his shoulder. "Alguna palabra sobre el paquete?

"Aún nada, hermano."

"Mierda! ¿Por qué tarda tanto?"

The conversation fell on deaf ears as you fought to keep yourself conscious. Your hands were freed but now the element of surprise was lost and there was a barrel pressed against your face. 

"I should kill you right now," the man spat in English. "You fucking murdered my brothers like a coward."

"They should learn to duck," you shrugged weakly. 

This time when he hit you, it threw your seat backward. You hadn't been able to move your hands in time before the weight of your body and the steel spines of the chair slammed against your forearms. 

A sickening crunch reverberated through the room, echoing like the toll of a church bell and while that was loud, your scream was deafening. 

"Let's be honest with ourselves, Sunshine," the man laughed, watching you as you writhed and sobbed. "Nobody is coming to save you." 

He cocked the weapon slowly, leaning down to press the barrel against your forehead once again. You couldn't even keep your eyes open as you struggled for breath, choking on your own spit and blood as you shrieked. You wanted to watch him, you wanted to go down with defiance- but fear gripped your throat so tightly you were choking on it.

You weren't going to die fighting. 

You were going to die suffering. 

When the gunshot came, your body recoiled so hard that your head smashed the concrete beneath you. In that horrible moment of silence that followed, you wondered if there was no peace even in death. Agony ripped through your nervous system, every inch of your body screamed for relief. 

If this was death, then you were in hell. 

"Think again, cunt."

The distinct cockney accent had your spine straightening and your eyes snapping open. 

The gun clattered beside your head, unfired. 

You weren't dead. 

"Sunshine!"

You were being saved. 

"Talk to me, Sunshine!" 

The voice was so far away, he was too far away, he wasn't going to make it. You weren't going to make it. The man on the floor next to you must have sat back up because you could feel his hands gripping your shoulders, the gun rattling in your ears. 

Fingers gripped your face, jostling you from your semi-conscious state. Your vision was blurred by your own blood and tears, the figure before you a mess of shadows. You screamed, trying to pull your broken arms from beneath the chair to defend yourself until help got to you. 

Searing hot pain ran up the lengths of your arms and stabbed into your neck. You gagged, a low bellow wrenching from your throat as you heaved. 

"Stop! Stop! Don't move!" 

"Get away from me!" You wailed, voice shrill and unhinged. You tugged again and this time his hands came down on your shoulders. 

"SUNSHINE!"

The roar of your name made your entire body freeze, clutching you by the throat with the desperation behind the callsign. You closed your eyes, a whimper falling from your lips to taint your dignity. 

"Jesus." He sounded like Ghost. It couldn't have been him but, God, you wished it was. "Come on, Sweetheart. Look at me." 

"I can't see," you wept. 

His thumbs swept over your face, gloves wiping the blood from where it had settled on your lids and lashes. You tried again, blinking the crimson liquid from your eyes as best you could. You imagined that you looked a sight, the whites of your eyes a deep red, stained with evidence of your injuries. Finally, your vision settled. 

Simon stared back at you, eyes wide. 

You gasped. 

"Simon?" You slurred, his name broken on your lips. 

"Yeah, Sunshine. S'me." He murmured distractedly. His fingers were twitching on your neck, scanning the rest of your body for injuries.

Your heart was beating against your ribs, sudden anxiety flooding your being.  If he was here it meant that they'd brought the package to you rather than to Birdy. 

That meant… 

"No, no, no," you whispered as the Lieutenant lifted the chair with one hand, pulling your broken hands from behind your back. "No, no, Simon, what're you doing here?" 

Ghost recoiled slightly, a frown overtaking his features. "The fuck do you mean?" 

"Birdy," you rasped, a sob building in your chest. "You need to get Birdy. What about Birdy?" 

"Birdy's-" 

You fought to stand up, pushing him out of the way as you stumbled to your feet. Your body swayed side to side as your vision swam, but you weren't going down- not again. 

"Need a gat. Need Birdy- we can't lose Birdy. Everybody needs Birdy-" 

"Sunshine." 

"I can't lose Birdy!" You snapped, reeling on your superior with a broken gaze. 

For a moment, he stood frozen, speechless. You'd never recover if they killed the other sniper, no one would. Everyone would blame you, it'd be your fault.

"König's got Birdy," Ghost said slowly, straightening to stand to his full height. "I've got you, Sunshine."

You gawked at him as though you hadn't understood a single word he'd said. Realistically, you truly hadn't. They'd come for you, knowing that it would put everyone at risk. 

Simon had come for you, leaving Birdy to a man that he hated with every ounce of his being. 

Simon had come for you, not Birdy. 

"You're here?" You whispered and although it sounded fucking stupid, Ghost only nodded. He knew what you were really asking. 

"Of course," he said. "Of course, I am."

"You came for me?" Your voice broke.

The soldier shuffled on his feet, shaking his head as though he thought it was obvious. 

"I'd follow you anywhere. We both know it," he huffed, that dark gaze pinning your soul to your chest. 

You rocked forward at the words, knees buckling from beneath you. Simon shot forward instantly, his arms looping around your waist and hauling you upward. His hand came to grip your chin, fingers slapping your cheek lightly as your eyes rolled backward. 

"Come on, Sweetheart. Stay with it, it's nothin',"  he growled, jostling your body to keep you conscious. Your head fell forward to rest against his shoulder, ears ringing and your mind shattered. "Sunshine, stay awake for me."

You couldn't any longer, you couldn't listen to him. He should have been used to it by now, you'd always been the troublesome one for him. Never directly disobeying him but never doing it the way he asked, always driving him bat-shit fucking crazy- always under his skin. 

But, if Simon couldn't save you, you'd die happy knowing that he'd even tried. 

You'd die happy knowing that somebody loved you. 

—

When you thought of dying, you always had such a visceral image of what would happen. You'd be the last one on your line, and the rest of your unit would be shot down; you'd make a stand on a hill and wipe out the enemy until you were out of ammo. Then, you would fight until you were overwhelmed. 

That was the death you'd imagined. 

Not abandoned and left alone in a warehouse in a sick game of "pick the sniper you like more." 

"They'll fully recover physically," someone sighed from above your head. "Mentally, though…" 

"They'll be right," Simon finished. 

"That's what they said about Birdy," the doctor muttered. "We all know how that ended." 

"Doc-" 

"Saint."

Simon cleared his throat. 

"Saint," the callsign foreign on his tongue, "Sunshine's not Birdy."

To hear it from Simon Riley himself was all the validation you needed. 

You stirred in the bed and immediately all conversation fell quiet, the both of them waiting for you to fully awaken. 

You knew you were in the hospital before your eyes opened. You recognised the doctor who was talking, a medic who had yelled at you often for ‘being reckless.’ The smell of antiseptic was near seared into your memory and the sound of the monitor beeping was too familiar. 

However, the room was brighter than you’d anticipated and you cringed into your pillow with a moan. The overhead light stung your eyes, searing your retinas and making it near impossible for you to think. 

“Get the lights,” Saint ordered, realizing what the issue was. 

The room fell dim, enough for you to finally pry your lids open and have a look around. Your jaw felt heavy like there was cotton in your mouth. As you probed with your tongue, you realised with a pitted stomach that there actually was something stuffed between your teeth. 

You moaned, reaching upward to pull it out. 

It was as though you’d set off a bomb with the movement. Both Simon and Saint immediately shot forward, hands on your arms to rest them by your side gently. They stood on either side of your bed, like two sentries, one dark and one light. 

“Gonna need you to just relax a second for me, spitfire,” Saint chuckled. 

You huffed, fighting the urge to gag on the material in your mouth. Your tongue ran over it, moving to dislodge it from where it had been wedged between your teeth. 

“Now,” the doctor leaned over to adjust your drip. “Do you remember your name and what happened?” 

Rather than respond, you opted to slowly let the gauze fall out of your mouth and onto your chest. Saint watched you with a deadpan expression as you fought with your facial injuries to perform this feat. 

At the end of it, you offered a weak smile. 

A long moment of silence ensued before the doctor sighed, staring at the lumps of bloody fabric sitting on the gown. 

“I’m gonna go grab some shit,” they said. “Maybe a fuckin’ whiskey.” 

They disappeared from the room swiftly, leaving you alone with the Grim Reaper himself. With a harsh sigh through his nose, the Lieutenant reached over and scooped up the gauze, dropping them into the bin. 

“You couldn’t just answer the question?” He muttered, moving to crouch by your head. He wore only his balaclava, his hoodie down for once. 

“Not with that in my mouth,” you rasped, words thick and sickly. 

Simon snorted softly but he said nothing, opting to watch you instead. His gaze ran from your hair to your neck, over and over as if he were committing you to memory. His expression was gentle but there was something hidden that made you think that, at that moment, he was extremely vulnerable. 

Anything you said from this point on would determine the relationship between you both. You remembered what he’d confessed when he found you beaten and bloody on the floor. It was clear as day and imprinted on your brain as though it had been branded on the inside of your skull. 

“I would follow you anywhere. We both know it.” 

You’d both reached the point of no return, no more smoke and mirrors, no more half-truths. Neither of you could get away with hiding your feelings behind hatred anymore. 

Not after he’d chosen you. 

“You came for me,” you whispered. A statement, not a question this time.

“Of course,” he said again, just as he had before. 

You hadn’t realised you were crying until his hand cupped your cheek, his thumb wiping the tears from your cheeks ever so gently. As much as you hated it, as much as you wanted to stop, you couldn’t hold them back. 

The relief was palpable, the understanding that you were valued was freeing. 

Simon Riley knew the kind of person you were, right at your very core, and he still chose to love you. He still chose to hold your hand and dry your tears with nothing but pure reverence in his gaze. 

You realized then and there, that you were valued.

You were enough.

[bittergomez]

LAWD HAVE MERCY 🧎🏻‍♀️

cr:chaiinsawmen

[bittergomez]

RAHHH MIGUEL PUTTING US IN A FULL NELSON + THE SIZE KINK.

I’m sorry but ever since I learned that Miguel was 6’9” on top of being beefed up I haven’t been the same 😵‍💫

HE JUST KEEPS GROWING HEIGHT..

nsfw below, mdni, requests open

Miguel O'hara who's got you laid on his chest, knees tucked up to your chest as his arms hook around your legs. The position had you so vulnerable, that sensitive spot inside you being pounded non-stop. You felt so tiny against his touch, how his frame was so much large then yours, easily able to hold you upright.

His hands bent your head down a little making you watch how he easily entered your body, your arousal coating his cock and balls, dripping out of your cunt.

Miguel was so easy to manhandle you like this, hips moving at a relentless pace, skin slapping against yours. Your clit throbbed as his cock prodded against your cervix, veins dragging against that spongey spot inside of you.

"Taking me so well for such a tiny girl, that right, mi amor?"

All you could do was nod as much as you can, moans spilling from your lips as his hips kept rutting into you. You couldn't even form a single thought in any language at this point, body too fucked out as the overstimulation made you shake.

" 's too much miggy-" You whined out, feeling your nth orgasm approach rapidly, stomaching coiling to knots.

"You're doing so well for me, just a few more for me. You can do it." He cooed in your ear, hot breath fanning against the back of your head.

You felt yourself come undone on him once again, juices dripping down on both you and him. Body shaking as your orgasm crashed like a wave, legs shaking more and more as your walls contracted around him.

You were just so so tiny this way, your frame pressed against his muscular one. His hands were so large against yours, easily hooking around your body. Miguel loved the way you squirmed under his touch, how meek you were from just his sheer size.

[bittergomez]

MIGUEL whos wrapped around your pretty little finger.

he adores you, he would do anything for you. he loves you. and you knew it, he was smitten with you. no matter how sarcastic or how hard he was on the outside he would always break down those walls for you. his princesa, even if he thought he wasn’t obvious with it he was. the spider society could tell, everyone could tell.

“you’d better hope his wife comes and saves your asses” jessica said, sighing deeply. miles and gwen had fucked up big time, and there was practically no hope other than you coming to their rescue. “mhm you’d better start praying cus’ if she doesn't well uh, just hope you see tomorrow” peter whispered. “do you know what the hell you did?! do you know how much you jeopardized our mission?!” miguel seethed, irritably. "you." he turned and pointed his finger in miles's face. " i may have let you in our mission but that doesn't mean you can disobey orders." he seethed, his eyebrows furrowed. miles's could only hope and pray that she would show up.

"miguel? amor, i brought you lunch!" a bubbly voice snapped the group out of their train of thought. a sweet looking woman stood at the door, dressed in casual clothes. "what's going on?" she sighed looking at the group and miguel. "oh nothing don't worry" miguel said, awkwardly. "come here, i want to see you. i know that you just went on a mission lemme check you out" she said motioning him to come over to him. as he walked towards her, she mouthed to the group "go". and with that they scrambled off.

@AISAISAIS 2023, DO NOT STEAL OR REPOST.

[bittergomez]

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem! Reader

Warnings: smut, headlock🤤, unprotected sex, creampie, a bit of fluff at the end

A/n: as promised, as soon as I came out of the cinema I started working on this! It’s not as nasty as I wanted it to be, but I’ll work on that🩷

Your bedroom smelled strongly of sex and sweat, loud moans along with praise mixed with degrading were bouncing off the tall walls, surely gaining the two of you a few noise complaints the next day. You were splayed in the middle of your huge queen-sized bed, head pressed into soft pillows and ass high up in the air as your boyfriend was dogging the shit out of you, making sure that your pussy was raw and thoroughly fucked.

You’ve been at it for hours - your sheets were wet with sweat and other bodily fluids, your ass felt hot from all the spanks Miguel generously delivered. Your throat felt sore from all the moaning and previous face-fucking, musky taste of Miguel’s cock still lingered on your tongue. You felt like a rag doll in your lover’s strong arms, too tired to move by yourself, but too greedy for pleasure to actually stop this sweet torture.

Miguel yanked your hips up higher, getting a firm grip on your waist; he shifted a bit, placing one foot on the mattress for better range of movements. A string of loud mewls along with shameless moans poured out of your kiss-swollen lips as brunette absolutely ravaged you - he pounded your poor dripping pussy with so much vigor that your body shifted forward with each thrust, heavy balls slapping against your clammy skin with loud smacking sounds. Miguel’s large hands moved to smack your pretty ass so it jiggled in his palms, relishing to grab and mold your pliable flesh afterwards.

- Just look at this greedy pussy, taking every inch of me like a cock-hungry slut. Bet you were thinking about it whole day long, huh? - Miguel rasped above you, his filthy words caused heat rising up to your cheeks as you buried your face even deeper into soft pillows, but they couldn’t hide your reddened ears form his sharp eyes.

Miguel leaned down, one massive arm sliding underneath your neck, so that your chin was tucked right in the hollow of his elbow; a few moments later your face was squished in between male’s bulking bicep and a thick forearm, trapped in a firm headlock. He put most of his body weight onto your small body, pounding your dripping cunt into the bouncy mattress, stretching you out on his mighty girth, making your eyes roll back in intense pleasure. You felt Miguel’s free hand slipping underneath your tummy, finding your throbbing needy clit in no time and massaging it brutally with rough fingertips, matching the roughness of his hips slamming into you from behind.

- Oh baby, you’re drooling, - Miguel tutted in feigned pity, his hot lips brushing the shell of your ear, making hairs on the back of your neck rise.

His words brought you out of heavy haze of pleasure, bringing some consciousness to your foggy mind. And, indeed, your chin felt cooler because of your drool covering it, some even dribbled down onto Miguel’s arm, getting in between your chin and his inner elbow. Your hands came to his arm around your neck, fingers digging into firm muscles, leaving crescent-shaped marks on scarred skin.

- Mig..uel, I’m-

- Shhh, my love. Don’t you worry, I’ll take good care of you, - Miguel shushed you softly, his hips slapping against your ass with even more vigor, making you momentarily forget whatever it was that you wanted to say.

He hissed as he felt your velvety walls clenching around him, the suckle of your pussy sent his hips bucking and forcing his cock impossibly deeper into your cunt. A familiar coil makes itself knows in the pit of your stomach - a telltale sign of your next orgasm approaching rapidly.

- Oh fuck bunny, fuck fuck fuck. Gonna fill that pussy with my cum, full and nice, yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you? - Miguel rambled next to your ear as his pace became faster and sloppier.

- Pl..ease. Fuck, need.. it. ‘m so close, - you managed to stutter through

Your body prickled with desire and heat, Miguel’s fingers worked diligently on your clit along with his massive cock spreading you open, thick cockhead mushing against all of your sweet spots - he very soon had you cumming all around him, wringing a mind-blowing orgasm out of your exhausted body, your release leaving a noticeable white ring on the base of his dick.

A string or curses and quiet whimpers reached your ears as Miguel’s snapped his hips into yours quickly before stilling completely. Strong shudder ran through male’s massive body and, with a final moan, he shoot his thick cum inside of your fluttering heat, flooding your insides with his warmth.

Miguel went slack against your back, his body mounding against yours as he laid atop of you, making you squeak quietly under his weight. He chuckled airily as he rolled off you to the side, sliding his softening cock out of your bruised pussy. You whined at the feeling of emptiness, warm sperm dripped out in a small dribble, staining your slit and sheets underneath you. Miguel scooped you up in his big arms and maneuvered you to lay on top of his heaving chest, thick fingers tangled in your messy hair, massaging your scalp lovingly.

You took a deep breath, cuddling deeper into your lover’s neck, wrapping one arm around his broad shoulders. Your eyelids felt too heavy and Miguel felt too comfy to lay on, so you were fighting off sleep as much as you could.

- Go to sleep baby, I’ll clean everything up, - you heard a soft murmur, warm lips kissing your forehead in a comforting manner. You hummed in acknowledgment, getting more comfortable in Miguel’s arms.

- Love you, - you whispered tiredly, sleep heavy on your lids.

- Love you too angel

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[bittergomez]

i'm starved for miguel o'hara

i need to ride him slowly as he hugs so gentle, but burying his dick soo deep on me. i need him to kiss me, telling me to breath properly (i have asthma) and be proud of myself for being so fucking good to him. i need this man to be gentle and rough with me so badly, it ain't funny. it's okay to not write, it's just one of my starved toughts.

also, have a nice day ♡!!

the moan i just let out

nsfw mdni

your sweet, quiet moans were music to miguel’s ears. his cock buried deep in you, while his arms wrapped around your body, holding you close to him. you were being so good for him—bouncing up and down his dick, occasionally sliding back and forth when your thighs burned with tension.

“there you go~” miguel cooed, kissing your shoulder. “just like that, honey,” his whispered against your skin, leaning back to admire your pretty face. your breath hitches as you bring your hips to a slow roll.

“breathe baby, breathe,” his hands grip your hips, sliding you against him. he lets you relax your body as he abuses your cunt, slamming you down quickly, then sliding in an agonizingly slow pace.

“that’s it, just like that,” he almost whimpers, biting his lip as you begin moving your hips again, your hands pressed against his bare chest. just when you adjusted to his new pace. he takes your hands, holding them in a tight grip behind your back with one hand.

“i told you to breathe, cariño,” he mumbled against your lips, exchanging hot intoxicating breath with you. you let out a pornographic moan when he starts pounding into you relentlessly. his brutal pace driving his cock to practically nudge your cervix, pushing you forward into him. the tips of your noses slide against each other while you moan into each others mouths loudly.

“ah—fuckfuckfuck!” you whimper, tears stinging your eyes as he groans.

“feel so fuckin’ good, sweetheart,” miguel grits his teeth, his other hand slapping the side of your ass. “you make me so proud,” his hips stutter against you. “so good f’me,” he lets out a loud grunt as he spills into you, filling you to the brim with his seed. you collapse into his chest, feeling a trail of him leak out of your hole. miguel trails a finger down your back, pushing it back inside of your tight little hole,

“keep all of me in there, querida,” he hums breathlessly, “all of me…”

i’m pregnant now

[bittergomez]

miguel accidentally overstimulating himself not realizing that his breeding kink kicked in 🤲🧎‍♀️

overstimulation with miguel o’hara ❤︎

— a/n: oh my

warnings ﾟ𐦍༘⋆: some vulgar language, mentions of having kids during sex

“Mi—Miguel,” you gasp out, wrapping your arms around his neck as he fucks you into the mattress, “‘s—‘s too much? Ah—are you oh—okay?”

You shudder in unison as he pumps another load of his cum into your drenched pussy.

“I’m fi—fine,” he stutters as his dick twitches. It hurts—he��s sensitive—but it’s not enough. He hasn’t given you enough.

A broken mewl escapes you as your head hits the headboard, Miguel tightens his grip around your waist to keep you from slipping off his cock as his hips stutter through his thrusts.

His visions blurs as you clench around his dick—he was surprised he was still able to move.

He chokes when your pussy flutters—the way you clamp down on his dick makes his body go slack and his eyes roll back.

You’re both covered in sweat, and cum, and saliva. You feel hot, the silk bedsheets Miguel bought does nothing to cool you down, and your head is spinning. Your heart pounds in your chest as your body tenses—you were about to cum again, and your pussy wanted to cry.

“Miguel,” you whimper, “‘m close, Miguel, ‘m close,” you whine. His dick deliciously rubs against your walls as he sticks his thumb into your mouth—your head hits the headboard.

“I know mami—me too.” Your head hits the headboard again, “Gotta fill you up again, don’t you want that? Gonna make you feel good, I promise mami, I promise.”

“Mig—“ he pushes his thumb down on your tongue.

“‘m gonna make you feel so good, mami,” he starts to babble, “Gonna feel so good.”

Somehow every movement he made was even more intense, you could feel every vein, every twitch, every—everything. He became more precise, every thrust ended with him hitting your g—spot, you were never sure if that was going to be the moment you came.

“Miguel—,” you babble, sucking his thumb. “‘m gonna cum, right there Miguel, I’m gonna—“

His thrusts became erratic, the feeling of your warm pussy engrains itself in his memory.

He’d definitely be going back to this memory.

“Wait for me mami, I’m almost there too,” he grabs one of your hands, bringing it close to his mouth, and he presses his lips against your wrist. “Gonna make you a mother, yeah?”

You bite his thumb.

He presses a hand against your stomach as the bed creaks, “Make me a father?”

His hips stutter as you moan around his thumb.

You avoid eye contact as he leans over you, the pure devotion in his eyes makes you feel tingles in your stomach—and make you feel even more of that in your pussy.

“Look at me when you come mami, pl—please. Need you too.”

You didn’t expect it to happen that quickly when you looked at him.

Miguel looks down at you with lust blown eyes, his hair drops down from his face, and his mouth hangs open—the hand holding your wrist shaking. He slowly thrusts into you as he came inside you—your own cum mixed with his leaking around his dick.

His chest goes up and down as he heavily breathes—fuck was he beautiful as always.

He dips his head pressing a quick sloppy kiss onto your lips, “You’re leaking.”

You laugh, “It’s your fault.”

You expect him to laugh, to take it as a joke and then pick you up to go take a relaxing bath and cuddle for the rest of night—but he doesn’t.

“Oh,” he purrs, “Well, I should fix my mistake, shouldn’t I?”

He drops your wrist and focuses on your left boob, he pinches your nipple—you moan softly.

You wince in unison when he starts to move his hips again, his free hand trailing down to your waist from your stomach, “Ha—have to make sure none of my cum goes to waste, right mami? Can’t risk you not getting pregnant.”

Tears weld in his eyes, your pussy hurts as you pulse around him. He lets out a weak breath, “You want me to cum in you again, right?”

Your head hits the headboard once more as he thrusts get stronger.

It hurts, you’re too sensitive, and you’re positive he is too—yet he’s right. You do want that, you want him.

With a broken, hoarse voice, you say “Yes.”

[bittergomez]

I can’t get off this modern!anakin train so imagine him discovering you have a daddy kink halfway through after he pushed your lower stomach down for you to feel it deeper and you let a “right there daddy…” slip

- 🌷

oh goodness this is speaking to me because 😩😩😩😩😩 oof. okay.

so you never bring it up, even if the idea of calling ani ‘daddy’ makes you clench around nothing. anakin never knew his own dad, so you figured the idea of calling him daddy would be a little…ick? and that was fine. you could save it for the fantasies, and push it down. until you couldn’t.

anakin was naturally protective, nurturing and dominant— it wasn’t totally unheard of for you to have these thoughts about him. he was, well — daddy material. in your sweet submissive eyes, that was the highest title you could bestow on someone.

it was one night where he was just fucking you so deep you couldn’t think straight. your knees were up by your tits, completely folded with anakin just hammering into you. you were totally helpless, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. anakin looks after you good, you don’t need any mobility to feel good, he’ll do it all for you. he had just taken his thumb out your mouth, having been letting you suck on it, dragging his hand down so your sparkly saliva was smeared all down your chin and your lips were plump and wet making them all the more tempting.

“know you’re close, pretty girl, let me have it.” he didn’t even think when he pressed down on your lower stomach, your walls contracting around him tighter as he made sure you felt him deep. you squealed, knees jerking by your sides, clammy hands grabbing at him when it slipped out.

“right there daddy — mmph!”

it took you a few seconds to register it, him too. the pleasure was so immense that there was an actual lag time in your brain, but when you’d realised you said it you were unscrewing your eyes with hot cheeks and a guilty expression. his brow was furrowed, cheeks pink and chest heaving above you.

you open your mouth when he hesitates with his strokes. “i’m s-sorry i—”

he’s cutting you off by leaning over you, bringing your bodies close now. his lips are just below your ear and he’s grinding now, slow and deep inside you. “s’okay baby. it’s alright. you need me to be daddy? i’m daddy. yeah.” he reassured you, his voice low and raspy — practically purring in your ear. he liked it.

you let out this devastating moan, it’s all high pitched and desperate and he knows he’s cracked it. this is gonna be what pushes you over the edge. he’s panting into your neck but pushes back to bring your gaze to him. when you look at him, he looks as just as desperate as you. “there it is. i know baby, i know. cum for daddy, there you go.”

he lets out this choked moan a few seconds later, his own words arousing him. if you weren’t too busy cumming your soul out on his dick, you might have giggled.

[bittergomez]

Dating Tom Marvolo Riddle

Warnings: NSFW, possessiveness, toxicity

A/n: sorry for the long absence babes! I’m in my depressive episode again, but I finally managed to finish those hc’s, they’ve been in my drafts for ages🙄. Anyways, hope you’ll enjoy it💖

Even though Tom never expresses his attraction toward you verbally, you can still see just how much you mean to him through his actions. His love is all about the small gestures like fixing the askew collar of your shirt, sharing his notes if you have difficulties in some classes, making sure that you eat enough etc.

You’re the only one who can actually touch him. Of course, teachers, especially Slughorn, often give Tom encouraging pats on the back or shoulder, but only you are allowed to touch his skin. To play with neat waves of his dark hair, brush your fingertips against Tom’s cheekbones in endearment, interlock your fingers while walking down the school halls together. Only you

Tom is very possessive, not only with treasured magical objects, but also with you. He wants everyone to know that you are his, his and his only. Most of the time one of his hands rests securely around your shoulders or waist, keeping you as close as possible, glaring down at anyone who looks at you longer than a few seconds

Because of said possessiveness Tom is almost always by your side - you sit together in all your shared classes, and if it happened that he doesn’t take one of the subjects that you do, he has his devoted followers to be right beside you instead, making sure that no ‘unreliable’ people from your class are in near proximity to you. Outside of classes - you’re almost always seated on his lap. In the common room, courtyard, library - everywhere. He especially loves it when you sit on his lap during his privat meetings in the Room of Requirements - him sitting in the head of a long table with you cuddled up into his side, surrounded by his followers listening resolutely to every word he says. It gives him such a sense of power, having not only all of his minions, but also you - the only person he loves - at his complete mercy

Every one of Tom’s followers knows better than to talk to you, unless you are the one who starts conversation. And god forbid them being anything than polite and friendly to you.

Casual dominance? Yes, Tom is all about that. He likes it when you submit to his orders, no matter how small and trivial they are. “Darling, finish your tea, you need to warm up after a walk” or “Go to bed now, it’s too late” or “Put your book down, you’ve been reading for too long. Let your eyes rest”. And it angers Tom so much when you disobey, he wants what’s best for you, why can’t you see that? Most of the conflicts you guys have are actually caused by that, because you too don’t like being pushed around like a small child

Talking about conflicts - it is extremely hard for Tom to admit that he’s wrong, so if conflicts do occur between you two, Tom makes it look like you are the guilty one (even if you’re not). So yeah, he’s still a bit toxic, no matter how hard he tries to suppress it within himself

NSFW ahead!

Despite popular opinion walking around this mesmerizing platform, I don’t think that Tom sleeps around with every person he deems attractive. In fact, I’m pretty sure you’ll be his first (and only) sexual partner, even despite all the girls and boys almost throwing themselves on him in hopes of getting at least one touch

WILL👏FINGER👏YOU👏LITERALLY EVERYWHERE👏 Okay but this man has absolutely no shame when it comes to his lover (meaning you). Plus points if you’re in public place like library or classroom, and god, is he cocky. “You gotta be quiet, yeah? Don’t wanna other people to hear how much of a slut you are, do we?” all while his long slender fingers make their way up under your skirt, past the elastic of your pretty panties, and all you are left to do is to spread your legs a bit wider for Tom, and try to be as quiet as possible. And oh, don’t forget to take notes, you’re still in a middle of a class!

NOT into daddy kink. Being an orphan, even the word ‘dad’ itself feels strange, wrong even for Tom, so if you want to call him daddy - expect him to freak the fuck out. But if you’re into names he’d love it if you call him ‘sir’ or ‘master’, it gives him sense of power and authority over you

And while we’re on this topic - you’re called everything BUT your name in bed. Tom loves calling you names - whore, slut, fucktoy, darling, sweetness, princess - all that stuff. And oh, when he mixes praise with degradations, all while fucking you absolutely stupid *sighs dreamily*. “What’s that dollface? Is it too much for you? Can this slutty cunt take no more of my cock inside, hm? Stop pretending sweetheart, I know how much of a greedy whore you are, so shut the fuck up and take it”

Definitely will pin you against the wall as he towers over your smaller form, one hand resting next to your head while the other one cups your face gently, forcing you to look him straight in the eyes while whispering the filthiest things ever, making your panties soaking wet in a matter of minutes just by using his words. “You’re so needy, aren’t you? Walking around in that short skirt, swaying your hips like that. Think I didn’t notice, hm? I’d love to see those hips swaying while you ride my cock, what do you think about that?”

Even though Tom expects full obedience from you, he still likes it when you get a bit bratty. When you comply with every one of his orders, but there’s still something mischievous and coquettish about your behavior - naughty little comments slipping off your tongue here and there, and then you are batting that pretty doe eyes up at him, as if it wasn’t you saying all those things. “Moan louder” he orders in a strained voice, hips snapping into yours with loud smacking sound. “Fuck harder then” you quip back, sly smirk curling your lips at the sight of Tom’s perfect eyebrows pulling together in a frown. Your small giggle dies in your throat as man pulls out of you, just to slam his cock all the way back into your pussy, making your body jolt forward with the ferocity of the impact. Want it harder - you get it harder

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated, they inspire me on creating even more content for you💖

[bittergomez]

Pairing: yandere!Tom Riddle x gn!Reader

Synopsis: no one can take you away from Tom, not even Death itself

Warnings: yandere themes, obsessive behavior, non-sexual nudity, dark forces, mention of death and bodies, reader’s gender not specified

You felt weird. Your ears were filled with buzzing white noise, mind racing but also completely muddled up. You inhaled sharply, searing pain surged through all of your body at the feeling of your lungs expanding. It felt like your insides were set ablaze all at once. Rattling cough tore through your throat, filling your mouth with the some thick slime-like substance that you quickly spat out, gulping desperately on cold air in fast shallow breaths.

From what your overwhelmed senses could tell - you were laying down on some kind of flooring - which felt more like bare stone. You struggled to get yourself into sitting position, hard cobbles dug into your flesh painfully, causing you to shiver violently from both cold and discomfort.

You cracked your eyes open, blinking rapidly a few times to get the same sticky slimey stuff out of your eyes. It was very dark around- or was it your unstable state? Heavy steps could be heard, coming in your direction; your body tensed impossibly more, head snapping in direction of nearing man(?), hands roaming the ground underneath you, trying to find something - anything - to defend yourself with.

- Shhhhh, dearest, it’s just me. You’re safe, - a familiar voice spoke soothingly, your body relaxing at the dear sound of it.

- Tom? - you whispered, eyes flickering in all directions haphazardly, trying to distinguish male’s slim figure in thick darkness.

Tom fell to his knees next to you, muttering quiet ‘Lumos’, dim ray of light coming from the tip of his wand blinded you temporarily. You heard some soft shuffling before a thick woolen cloak was wrapped tightly around your shuddering frame.

You managed to crack your eyes open, finally being abele to look around. You peeked down at yourself - your body looked raw - as if you spent hours emerged in hot water - skin was a bringt pink color, extremely sensitive to the smallest of touches - just like an infant in first minutes of its life. You were completely bare, some weird slippery substance was covering every part of you, cooling your body down unpleasantly.

Your eyes wandered up to Tom. His face was gaunt - cheeks looked as hollow as ever; dark eyes you loved so much were unusually sunken, dark purplish circles you knew he got from sleepless nights were laying underneath them; his beautiful lips were chopped and pale, lacking their usual plushness; lush shiny waves of brown hair laying so elegantly on his forehead now looked bleak and brittle. Tom looked ill - as if he was struggling from protracted ailment. But even despite his miserable -you could’ve never thought of using this adjective for describing Tom Riddle- appearance, his eyes were sparkling maniacally, like diamonds in finest of the jewelry.

- Tom, what happened? I don’t understand… - you inquired quietly. Your throat felt way too tight, making your voice sound shaky and weak, and you struggled to get words out. You felt Tom wrapping his arms tightly around you, bringing you to his chest in a tight embrace.

- Everything’s all right now, my love. It’s okay, you are safe with me, - Tom muttered more to himself, rocking you from side to side gently.

You took a look at your surroundings - it looked like you were inside of a huge dark cave of some sorts, rough wet stones were forming walls and ceiling of the cavity, you could hear water dripping down the stalactites all around, hitting the rocks underneath with loud echoing sounds. What caught your attention were deep involute lines carved deeply into stone ground, forming an intricate designs all around you, slightest red glow was still visible emanating from them.

There were dead bodies laying all around. About a dozen of men and women, some of them you recognized as Tom’s devoted followers, were splayed around what seemed to be a transfiguration circle. There were no injuries nor blood on them visible. In fact, they looked fully normal if it wasn’t for their dull eyes and looks of absolute horror etched on their lifeless faces.

And then suddenly pictures flashed before your eyes - Tom’s face, still full of health and youthful beauty, covered in grime and blood, was gazing down at you, his eyes sparkling with shiny tears. What was that? Why was he crying? And then, like in some kind of drunken haze, you looked down at yourself - a huge crimson blotch was growing bigger and bigger on your robes, saturating soft cotton fabric in warm sticky blood. You looked back up at Tom - he was full on crying now, babbling “don’t leave me” and “please, don’t die” over and over again, trembling hands pressing down onto your chest, trying to stop the blood flow.

What was he talking about? Why would you die? You tried to say it, to console your silly boy, reassure that there’s no way you would leave him - but no sound came out of your throat, no matter how hard you tried. Your mouth filled with sickening metallic taste of your own blood, black clouding your vision rapidly.

And now you remembered. Those were your memories - your last ones - before you died.

But how was this all possible? Here you were, blood and flesh, warm and breathing and surely alive, in welcoming arms of your lover.

- Tom? What have you done?.. - horror mixed with shock slowly crept up your back, all the way to your chest and throat, making it even harder to breath than before.

- Nothing will ever hurt you again. I won’t let that happen, I promise, - Tom uttered next to your ear, his body shaking with soundless sobs as he held you even closer to himself,

- I will keep you safe, away from all dangers. You will know no worries nor fears. It will be just the two of us, in our perfect world we’ve always dreamed of. Forever.

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[bittergomez]

𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 | tom riddle

tom riddle x f!reader 4,488 words warnings: smut. angst. allusions to murder. horcruxes. notes: takes place in 1946, around a year after graduating from hogwarts. summary: there has always been darkness in tom riddle. perhaps you were too blind to see it before. or maybe you’ve known all along, but never acknowledged it until it was too late.

 “Tom! I… fuck! I… I love you!”

 Tears streamed down the sides of her face and pooled on the pillow below as Tom gripped her hip with one hand and her shoulder with the other. His pace was brutal, inhumane almost and it made the headboard slam against the beige wall, her fingers grasping the sheets between them to anchor herself. Her cunt clenched and her walls tightened around him as she came for the second time already, and she sobbed into the pillow, bittersweet pleasure surging through her. 

 Tom groaned at her words, tugging her back against him by the grip he had on her hair, his lips right beside her ear. “Say it again,” he muttered, and she panted, chasing air back into her lungs. “Tell me you love me again.”

 “I… I love you! I love you, I love you, iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou!”

 With something not unlike a growl emitting from his lips, he pushed her back down into the mattress and grabbed both of her hips, throwing his head back when she tightened around him again. He could feel his rage as it began to slip away, all the things that have been on his mind all day slowly melting away, and all he could think about was her and how good she felt. All he wanted right now was to come, to unravel and release himself to her. 

 But a small voice in the back of his head made all his anger surge back into him all at once, and he seemed to pick up his pace again, as if he were digging another orgasm out of her. 

 “I’m sorry, Tom. But you are only eighteen. Much too young to be a professor if you ask me. But, if you are still up for it, come back to me in a few years time. After all, I’ve never seen a student more exceptional at Defense Against the Dark Arts than you.”

 Tom narrowed his eyes at the small of her back as he fucked into her harder, as if it were even possible. He fucked her like he hated her, fucked her like she was his outlet and in a way, she was. Tom couldn’t even begin to describe the day he’d had, not until he did something with all this anger bubbling up inside of him, ready to pop. 

 And when it did, she was there for him, and she willingly offered herself up for him to take all his frustrations out on. 

 When she came for the third time around his cock, he knew that he was close, that the end of his fury was near. All he had to do was chase it, so he thrusted deeper, reaching the spongy spot deep inside of her that had her seeing stars. “Tom!” She screamed, muffled by the pillow. “It feels… oh Merlin, it feels so good.”

 Low grunts emitted from behind Tom’s closed lips as he thrusted again and again and again and again until finally he reached his end, and he fell over on top of her as she cried, and he buried his face into the crook of her neck. 

 “Tom…” she whined as he circled his hips, and he shushed her, pressing kisses to the shell of her ear. “Shhh, quiet,” he whispered as he pulled himself out of her, sliding into the spot on the mattress beside her. He watched as she writhed, and he circled an arm around her, pulling her into his side. She sniffled as she nestled into his chest, resting a hand on his stomach as his fingernails absentmindedly traced patterns between her shoulder blades. 

 A silence fell over them like a warm blanket, and she thought that she never felt so safe, and with Tom touching her so tenderly, she felt the most loved she’d ever been. Tom turned to press his lips against the crown of her head, and she blinked up at him, tears long gone from her eyes but their remnants made her cheeks swollen and sticky. 

 Tom couldn’t help but admire his view.

 “Are you feeling better?” She asked, and he hummed in reply, nodding and fluttering his eyelids closed. She rubbed her cheek against his chest, contemplating whether to question him further. “What happened today?” She couldn’t suppress the urge to ask, and he sighed, rubbing his brow with the pads of his fingers on his opposite hand. 

 Although most of his anger had subsided, it seemed to only make leeway for hate, hate for everything. He hated Hogwarts, the only home he had ever truly had, he hated Defense Against the Dark Arts, he hated Professor Dippet, the Headmaster who had turned him down for the job Tom so desperately desired. He hated everything, he hated anything he could. 

 But not her. Not the woman laying with him. He could never hate her. 

 She was the only thing he could bring himself not to hate in this moment. Hate could have fully taken the reign of his heart, but there would always be a small piece of it that loved her, that would always love her. She was the only thing he had ever learned to love. 

 Which was why it was so easy to tell her everything, to share all his frustrations, his annoyances, anything. She was always there to offer an ear to listen, a body he could lie on, someone he could love. 

 “Dippet turned me down for the Defense Against the Dark Arts job,” he admitted. “Said I am too young.” He left out the part where he jinxed the job so that no one would ever be able to keep it for too long. Except for him. So when Professor Dippet finally came to his senses and gave him the job, he’d know he was a fool for ever rejecting him in the first place. 

 Unfortunately, it would just take time. 

 But Tom Riddle was not a patient man. 

 “Oh darling,” she murmured, nestling closer into him, nudging her nose against the underside of his jaw. “I’m sorry,” she whispered as she pressed kisses to his skin. Tom said nothing as she melted into him like candle wax until they were one. The silence was back to pull them in like warmth on a cold winter's day, and eventually, the woman in his arms fell into the depths of slumber, her soft breath like early morning dew on his skin. 

 But Tom stayed awake. 

 He laid there staring up into the ceiling, sinking further and further into the mattress. His mind shifted from the woman sleeping soundly in his arms to the woman who had come into his place of work just the day before. Hepzibah Smith, a foolish woman she was to reveal to a complete stranger that she was a direct descendant of Helga Hufflepuff herself. 

 Another foolish mistake was to reveal to the handsome clerk at Borgin and Burkes that she had come into possession of Helga Hufflepuff’s cup and Salazar Slytherin’s locket. Of course, Hepzibah Smith couldn’t have anticipated who the handsome clerk at Borgin and Burkes really was. She couldn’t have known what was going on inside of his mind, couldn’t have known how strong the storm swirled inside of him, couldn’t have known that she had fallen into his plan like a trap, couldn’t have known how close he was to snapping. 

 Tom Riddle was inevitable. 

 And he was coming. 

 And poor old Hepzibah Smith would have no idea what hit her. 

 The next morning, she stirred awake to find that the bed was empty where Tom would usually be. She moaned and rubbed her closed eyelids with her knuckles, her lips falling agape as she yawned. She sighed and sunk back into the mattress, staring up at the ceiling as she blinked the sleepiness away from her eyes. She guessed Tom must’ve left for work already, much to her dismay. 

 She allowed herself to lay in bed for just a few more minutes before she heaved herself off of the mattress, shivering when the cool air hit her naked skin. She padded over to the wardrobe and dressed herself in a pale blue dress, settling herself down onto her vanity stool as she wrapped a bow around her waist and tied it behind her back, soothing down the wrinkles of her skirt. She winced as she worked a brush through her hair, and when she was done, her eyes fell upon a necklace laid carefully on the edge of the vanity. 

 She picked the locket up and the phantom of a smile curved her lips as she rubbed the pad of her thumb over the deep blue pendant. It was a gift from Tom, given to her just after they had graduated from Hogwarts. He said he had seen it in a shop in Diagon Alley before the year had started, and the moment he had set eyes on it, he knew that it would look dashing on her. 

 She felt warm at the memory, like she’d been kissed by the sun itself. She reached behind her neck to fasten the chain and let the deep blue pendant rest just above her chest before she rose from her seat, making her way down the steps of their home. 

 She could see no sign that he had touched anything before he had left for work, even all the food in the kitchen seemed to be in the place they were the night before. She scowled at this as she toasted a piece of bread, wondering if Tom had even eaten at all before leaving. He’d often forget to take care of himself in favor of getting work done, which was an awfully annoying habit of his. She’d constantly scold him for it, but he’d do nothing to change it. 

 She sighed as she took a bite of her toast. 

 She glanced outside the kitchen window as the morning sun peeked through the thin, yellow curtains on either side of it. It was a beautiful day, and the sun seemed to smile down on the small town of Hogsmeade, basking the village in its warmth. It’d be a perfect day for a stroll around town. 

 She dusted her hands off on a handkerchief and grabbed her small coin purse before making her way over to the front door, swinging it wide open and welcoming the fresh morning air into her lungs. She closed the door behind her and smiled at the next door neighbors, an elderly couple that at times (much like the night before) she was grateful hadn’t the greatest hearing. 

 “Good morning Mr and Mrs Barnable!” She beamed and waved at the couple where they sat on two wooden chairs just outside their home, and they exchanged bright smiles with the young woman passing by, waving their fingers. “Morning, miss!” The elderly woman said as she tended to the scarf she was knitting in her lap. 

 She turned back to face the road ahead of her, grinning and waving at anyone she passed by. She could hear a soft meow from the valley to the right where a small tabby cat sat, and when she kneeled and beckoned it forth, it came trotting up towards her, butting its head into her palm. 

 “Good morning to you too, Miss Kitty,” she chuckled before eventually rising from where she had knelt, making her way further down the street. It wasn’t until she reached Tomes and Scrolls that she stopped, pushing the door open in front of her and stepping inside. 

 “Ah! Good morning miss!” The current owner, Alan Brown, greeted her as she smiled, nodding her head in acknowledgement. “Good morning Mr Brown,” she said, turning to search the shelves of books lining the walls. 

 “Is there anything in particular you are looking for today, miss?” He asked as she dragged the tips of her fingers along the spines of the books, searching for any title that stood out to her. “I’m not yet sure,” she admitted, “do you have any recommendations?”

 Alan Brown pursed his lips as he walked around the counter and past where she stood, and her eyes followed as he searched through the bookshelves before finally seemingly finding what he had been looking for. 

 “Now, I’m not sure if you’ve read this one already or not,” he began, passing the green hardcover into her hands. “But it is one of my favorites. It’s about a wizard who goes on a long and strenuous adventure in search of his soulmate. The author has such a way with words.” She smiled as she gazed down at the book, and she thumbed through the pages, deciding that Alan’s summary had piqued her interest. “Well, I suppose you’ve sold me,” she giggled, tucking the book beneath her arm and digging through her coin purse before passing him a few sickles. 

 “Thank you,” Alan Brown bowed his head in thanks, “and do let me know when you are finished with it. I’d love to hear your thoughts.” She smiled, “of course. I’m sure any book you recommend is certain to be a good one.”

 And when she stepped outside of the small bookshop, Tom Riddle was stepping outside of Hepzibah Smith’s home some miles away, Helga Hufflepuff’s cup— his second Horcrux— and Salazar Slytherin’s locket tucked safely away in his knapsack. 

 He looked both ways before padding his way down the street, and a part of him wondered how long it would take for someone to notice that Hepzibah Smith hasn’t been sticking her big nose in everyone’s business in awhile. He wondered how long it’d take for them to find her, and a part of him already felt a twitch of amusement when they’d attempt to find whoever killed her to only come up with nothing. 

 Fools, he thought they all were. Hepzibah Smith, the Ministry of Magic, all of them. They were nothing more than mere fools. 

 Lucky for him. 

 Tom glanced around the empty street one last time before Disapparating and in mere seconds, he was back in the little town streets of Hogsmeade, his home just up ahead. It was still early in the morning, early enough that she should still be home. 

 He opened the door to their home and looked around, but she was nowhere to be found. He made his way up the steps and into their bedroom but still, she wasn’t there. 

 He knew he couldn’t expect her to be at home all day, but still, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed to come home to an empty house, wishing nothing more than for her to be there. He found himself longing for her again, longing for her touch, her hair, her lips, her skin. She was the only thing he could turn to for comfort, for she was the only one he felt comfortable around, the only one he had brought himself to trust. 

 He trudged back down the stairs a little dispirited, but just as he was about to make his way over to the armchair in the corner of the living room, the front door swung open, and there she came walking in, a soft smile spread on her face. She blinked up at him when she noticed him in the middle of the living room, and she set her new hardcover book on the dining table as well as her coin purse, her grin widening. 

 “Oh! When did you get home, Tom?” She asked, striding up towards him and rolling onto the tips of her toes to wrap her arms around his neck, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “Just now,” he replied simply, his hands on either of her hips as she pulled away. She furrowed her eyebrows, tilting her head. “I thought you must’ve been at work. Where were you?” She asked, and she watched the way Tom’s lips curled into a small grin. 

 There was almost something… off about the way he smiled. 

 “You’ll never believe what I’ve acquired today,” he said, reaching into his knapsack and retrieving both the cup and the locket. She looked at them for a moment before glancing back up at him, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, Tom. I’m afraid I do not understand…”

 “This,” he shook the cup in his right hand. “Is Helga Hufflepuff’s cup.”

 She blinked once, twice, thrice. She stepped closer and looked down at the cup in his hand, her fingers soft against the golden Hufflepuff badger, uncertain. “Is it… is it real?” She asked, still unsure what to make of this. He nodded, “one hundred percent authentic.” He held up the locket in his opposite hand, “and this, my darling, is Salazar Slytherin’s locket.”

 She eyed the green serpent in the middle of the locket, but didn’t dare touch it. She withdrew her hands away from the Hufflepuff cup, shaking her head. “But… Tom, how could you afford all this? We haven’t any money…” she trailed off as he carefully placed the Horcrux and the locket back into his bag. Her eyes followed his hands as they reached to cup either side of her face, and he gazed down at her with those strangely dark eyes, somehow darker, murkier than ever. 

 She was the only one who could read Tom Riddle. But right now, she hadn’t even the slightest clue what he was thinking, what was going on inside the strangely beautiful yet mysterious mind of Tom Riddle. 

 “You needn’t worry about that, my love,” he murmured, the pads of his thumbs soothing over either of her cheeks. “You needn’t worry about anything at all,” he whispered against her lips before drawing her in for a kiss, and she watched as his eyelids fluttered closed. Instinctively, she reciprocated the kiss, and she allowed Tom to do whatever he pleased. 

 But she couldn’t stop the storm raging inside of her head even as his kisses trailed down her neck, past the deep blue pendant around it, and to her collarbone where he sucked marks into her skin, his fingers unraveling the bow she had tied so delicately behind her back mere hours before. 

 She couldn’t help but worry over how cryptic he was being, and she wondered if she’d ever know the whole truth. She wondered where he was just before he came home, when she presumed he was at work. Surely nobody came and donated such ancient and magical items to Borgin and Burkes without a high price— but of course, she didn’t know much about the shop that Tom worked at in the first place. 

 Her pale blue dress was being slipped down her arms as Tom’s kisses ventured down to her breasts, and she clutched at his shoulders, squeezing her eyes closed when he took one of her nipples in his mouth. Something was wrong, terribly wrong and she could feel it. But she could worry about it later. She couldn’t bring herself to worry over it anymore, not when Tom made her feel this good. 

 So she let him lead her up the stairs and into their bedroom, let him lay her down gently on the bed, let him tug her dress down her legs and completely off her body. Her heart thud against her chest as she watched him undress himself, unbuttoning his black shirt, sliding his grey trousers down his legs, slipping his feet out of his noir leather shoes. She let him trail kisses all the way from the tops of her feet, up her legs, to the inside of her thighs and all the way to her center where her slick trailed down her slit, unbeknownst to her until he pressed his tongue flat against her, lapping it up. 

 Her toes curled in and she threw her head back against the pillow as Tom toyed her clit with his tongue, gazing up at her through hooded lids. He gave her pearl a long and thorough suck before trailing kisses back up her belly, between the valley of her breasts, up her neck, once again past the pendant on her throat, and creeping up her chin until he reached her lips again. He cradled her head with one of his palms and her eyes fluttered open to meet his, and he thought that this was when he felt most at home. 

 But even he knew that this couldn’t last forever. 

 In fact, it was only a couple of months later that Tom decided what he must do. 

 His heart trembled in his chest as he listened to her sobs whilst he packed his few belongings in his briefcase, and when he slammed it shut, he gazed up at her as he locked it. She, who was once always smiling, whose eyes used to always sparkle even in the darkest hour, now only cried, her eyes bleary and begging him to stay. 

 “Please don’t do this, Tom,” she managed to speak between sobs, her voice wavering and meek, on the verge of breaking. She gathered either of his hands between hers and she squeezed, she squeezed so hard because she knew that this was her one chance to be his anchor, to anchor him here so that he may stay here forever with her. “You can’t… I don’t want you to…” she shook her head, frustrated with herself and him and absolutely everything. “Please don’t leave.”

 She didn’t understand, she couldn’t understand. Nothing could have ever prepared her for this, nothing could’ve prepared her to watch him leave, to go off on a journey all alone for who knows what reason. She’d known Tom since their first year at Hogwarts and since then, she always knew that he was an enigma. But this, this leaving her without giving any reason— it was frustrating. Oh, it was so damn terrifying and it frightened her the way she could feel her heart break, and she feared that she’d never be able to mend it again. 

 For all these years, she’d always had him, always had him by her side and always sought after him on her darkest days, always confided in him and reached out for him when she needed someone. What was she to do now that he was leaving her alone? 

 She never felt like somebody until Tom came along. But with him, she felt important, she felt like she mattered. And now it just felt like he was throwing her away as if she were nothing. 

 Tom said nothing, even though he, too, could feel his heart begin to rupture in his chest. He loved her. He truly did, even though he was terrified of love at first. After all, he’d never loved anything in his life until she came around. 

 And when he allowed himself the luxury of loving her, he knew he was jeopardizing everything he had been working toward ever since Albus Dumbledore had told him why he was different from every other kid at the orphanage, ever since he stepped foot into Hogwarts, ever since he had told himself that he’d be the greatest and most powerful wizard of all time.

 But he made an exception for her, because when he tried to tear away, he found that he couldn’t, he found that he couldn’t bring himself to be without her unless he felt like bleeding. She was like his bandage, holding him together, keeping him going. 

 And so in doing that, he had made his first mistake. He gave himself a weakness. 

 But it had all been worth it, because after all, Tom could never regret loving her, and he knew that no matter what, he’d never forget her. And maybe someday, once he’d successfully split his soul into seven pieces, he’d see her again. 

 But for now, he knew what he must do. 

 He gripped his briefcase and strode out of their bedroom, making his way down the stairs. Of course, she chased after him, just barely managing to grab his elbow when they both reached the bottom of the steps, and she turned him around, grabbing either side of his face. 

 She gazed up into Tom Riddle’s dark irises and saw something more, something she thought she’d seen in a whisper just months before, back when he first showed her Hufflepuff’s cup and Slytherin’s locket. But it was evident now, and she flinched when she saw it. 

 She wasn’t sure how she hadn’t noticed it before, how his skin had gradually become slightly paler than it was before over the months, how the sclera of his eyes were no longer pure white but a bright red. Tom Riddle was still as handsome as she remembered him to be but somehow more… ominous. 

 “What is going on inside that head of yours?” She asked quietly, shaking her head as the hand not cupping his cheek ascended towards his hairline, brushing a loose curl of dark hair away from his sullen face. Her bottom lip trembled and her eyes began to water again when she met his stare once more. 

 After a while, he finally said, “we will see each other again, my love.” He grabbed either of her hands and tenderly pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist, squeezing his eyes closed as if to savor this moment. She blinked, and a tear crystal slipped down her cheek and to the floor below. “You must know that I love you,” he murmured, and she knew it. She knew he did. Which was why she couldn’t understand why he was leaving. “And I can give you the life you’ve always wanted. But I must go away for a while first.”

 She shook her head and her hand slithered around to the back of his head, keeping him here, holding him here. “All I want is you,” she whispered, pushing against the back of his head until his forehead fell on top of hers, her other hand squeezing his bicep. “I want to be with you. So please, just stay.”

 Tom squeezed his eyelids shut tight, savoring this last touch before he was willing himself to pull away. Her palm slipped down to his until his touch was ripped away from her altogether, and when he took a few steps backward, she could feel all the scars that Tom had made shine like stars, the scars that he had single-handedly stitched together rip open. 

 Because somehow, she knew that this would be the last she’d see of her Tom Riddle. 

 “We will see each other again,” he repeated in a whisper like a sacred prayer, and she had no doubt about it. But she knew that once he left, everything would change. “But for now, this is goodbye.”

 And at once, her Tom Riddle Disapparated away and her legs wobbled before she fell to her knees, leaving her to bleed all alone in the home that once belonged to them. 

a/n; a little something i thought up last night after watching a cardigan tasm edit LMAO but honestly i love this song and i feel like it kind of fits tom???

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