#‘is this guy bothering you??’ + glass shattering sounds

[schtubawl]

fleshing him out more with all the flesh I can find

[comatosebunny09]

inebriated | sylus

— summary: you comment on how good he’s gotten at these domestic things, and his mouth twitches with a smile. for you, he would give up this menacing life he leads if it meant waking to your smile each day, dancing and kissing in the kitchen over pancakes and overdone eggs.  — cw: written with femme reader in mind, alcohol & drug use, mild language, tooth-rotting fluff, domestic bliss, sylus is down bad & probably ooc — notes: head empty, just vibes. i needed some domestic, self-indulgent fluff, and this is the result. thank you so much for reading. — now playing: waiting in vain - jordan ward

Sylus, but in the midst of a meeting. And it's all tense, everyone shifty-eyed and tight-lipped, trying to figure out the best way to expand Onychinus’ reach. But then, a particular ringtone breaks through the seemingly impenetrable silence that’s befallen the dimly-lit, smoke-laden room.

The gentleman beside Sylus stifles a laugh into his fist under the pretense of clearing his throat. Sylus gives him a look that bodes disaster as he fishes his phone from his pocket. Fearing for his life, the man glances away, straightening his tie.

With his cell poised in the air like a loaded gun, Sylus dares anyone else to comment on his choice of ringtone with a ticked brow and a swift survey around the room. Everyone pointedly looks elsewhere, hoping to leave with their lives intact.

Seeing as no one’s ballsy enough to contest him, the crime lord brings the phone to his ear, answering with a curt “Speak.”

“Mister Skye?”

The voice breaking through the static is most certainly not yours. And that notion has Sylus sitting up at breakneck speed, assuming the worst. That tense air from before returns, slung over everyone’s shoulders like sandbags.

An anxious chuckle erupts from the other side of the phone. “Sorry. It’s Tara. I probably should've led with that. Didn't mean to freak you out.”

The rigid set of his shoulders eases up the slightest bit. At least you’re with a friend. Still, why is she calling him from your phone?

“Sorry to bug you. But could you come get her? I think she’s had a little too much to drink. She keeps antagonizing the biggest guys here. Says she’ll sick her bad-ass mafia boyfriend on them or something.”

Sylus’ lips quirk. He pinches the bridge of his nose, the beginnings of a migraine creeping in whilst a sigh pushes through his nostrils. He doesn’t know whether to be proud or annoyed.

“They’re about to kick us out of the bar. Please come.”

He can taste the exasperation in Tara’s voice, the poor girl. On cue, you chime in from the background, wailing about needing your ‘Big Daddy Caw-Cawk.’

Someone in the briefing room snorts but quickly hides it when Sylus levels a glare at them.

Relieved, Sylus straightens, rolling the tension from his shoulders. “Where are you?”

It’s laughable how quickly Tara answers, ready to pass you off like a baton. “Husk. Downtown on Main Street. I can drop a pin—”

“No need,” he interjects, well-versed in your points of interest. What? He’s just being the model boyfriend. Definitely not stalking you. “I’ll be there in ten.”

She laughs, the sound of it relieved. “Thank you, Mr. Skye. Seriously, you don’t understand—what the hell are you doing?! Get off the table!” 

Before the line cuts, furniture crashes and glass shatters.

Sylus clears his throat, adjusting his collar. Straightens the cuffs of his sleeves before abruptly standing, the jarring screech of his chair across the tiled floor making everyone in the room wince. 

He doesn’t bother with formalities, shoving his hands in his pockets, that customary bored look descending onto his face. The twins materialize at his sides without a hitch as he makes his way to the door, the atmosphere charged with unanswered questions and anxious looks.

“Mister Sylus!” one of the men calls to his retreating back. But he’s silenced by his seatmate with a hand on his shoulder and a head shake. 

“No sense in getting between that man and his girl. Last guy who did…well, you can probably guess the rest.”

With this new information hovering in the air, the gentlemen around the table exchange grumbles and stiff looks, deciding to carry on as if their leader never left.

—

Sylus has impeccable timing.

He’s tugging his motorcycle helmet off when you emerge from the bar’s double doors, arm linked with Tara’s, the straps of your heels dangling off your finger. 

“Fuck you,” you spit back at the bouncer who so graciously escorted you out. He counters you with his middle finger, muttering something about you being a bitch. 

Sylus’ jaw tenses. His skin prickles with the threat of his Evol. But he tamps down his irritation when Tara spots him. And she’s damn near sprinting, dragging you alongside her. 

“Mister Skye!” Tara beams, a nervous chuckle in her throat. He acknowledges her with a nod and a rehearsed half-smile, his gaze sliding to you. 

You stand beside Tara with crossed arms, bottom lip jutting out with a pout as you pointedly look elsewhere. You’re adorable when you know you’re in trouble, the ambient string lights strung overhead highlighting the pretty contours of your face. Glancing between you and Sylus, Tara slips behind you, practically shoving you into his arms. You stumble with a slew of curses into the hard planes of his chest. 

“She’s all yours,” says Tara, a little too ecstatic for his liking.

Gently wrapping his fingers around your arm, Sylus guides you over the curb towards his bike. Nods at Tara over his broad shoulder, and she grins, frantically waving goodbye. He stifles a chuckle when her shoulders slump, relief washing over her features. You must’ve been quite the handful throughout the night.

Wordlessly, he pulls you to a stop before his motorcycle. Turns away to fetch your helmet, expectantly holding it out for you to take. You continue this huffy game of yours, instead glaring at something behind him. Before he can speak, your eyes alight with childlike glee, and you dash past him across the street in a blur of glitter and perfume. 

With his mouth slightly ajar, Sylus watches you cross the street to a brightly colored cart. The cart's awning features a telltale hotdog logo, and he sighs, shaking his head before following after you. You’re shoving a hotdog into your mouth when he reaches you, your eyes gleaming whilst an appreciative hum eases from your throat.

“Sweetie,” he tries, something akin to affection swelling in his chest. “You’re not wearing shoes.”

You ignore him in favor of savoring your meal. Clearly inebriated if the heavy flutter of your lashes is anything to go by. Try as he might to suppress it, a smile rounds his lips, and while you eat, he takes this time to appraise you. 

Errant curls cling to your comically full cheeks. Your makeup is flattering, your lashes wispy, and your lips painted a dangerous shade of rouge. One strap of your dress falls off your shoulder, and the tight cling of your attire leaves little to the imagination. Full thighs peer from beneath a devastating hemline, legs stretching for days. His study ends at your feet, bare and probably sore from wearing heels all night.

Sylus reaches out to pat your head, eyes slit with affection. Internally, he gushes when you turn innocent eyes on him, the brooding figure you once were tucked far beneath your skin. He surmises that Tara couldn't tame you because you were hangry. You always are after a night of drinking. He steps behind you to fix your straps, fingers softly gliding over your shoulders. 

He angles himself to ear level, murmuring, “Let’s get you home,” before ushering you towards his bike with a wide, reassuring palm at your back. 

You’re more agreeable this time around, nodding and toddling in front, scarfing down the remains of your hotdog. 

—  

You cut a sleek outline amid the bustling streets of Linkon, streetlights glazing over the dark lenses of your visors. 

Your arms loosely wound about his stomach, you’re a warm pressure at Sylus’ back. And you’re giggling something cute, uttering incoherencies that make his lips quirk beneath his helmet. Whatever you drank has you feeling good, your grasp on him slackening even more as you lose yourself to the music blaring in your helmet’s speakers. 

Sylus’ hand covers yours, wordlessly encouraging you to hold fast to him. Linkon’s streets might have the speed limits that the N109 Zone lacks, but he’s still driving fast enough to lose you if he isn’t attentive.

“Sylus!” you call amid the wind sweeping your bodies.

“Sweetie?”

The mischievous giggle that follows makes something cold drop into his belly. 

“I had an edible!” And you sound so proud, like a child showing their macaroni art to their parents. 

An indignant sound is pinched from Sylus’ throat. His eyes widen the slightest. He makes a note to give Tara an earful when he next sees her, squeezing your hands over his navel whilst he cuts a turn.

—       

Your laughter ricochets off the stilled halls of your apartment complex. 

He’s got you cradled in his arms, bridal style, not at all fazed by your jostling about. With a flicker of his Evol, your front door clicks open, and he dips inside, kicking the door shut once you’re nestled in your entryway's cold, dark embrace. He entertains your nonsensical talk with an occasional hum as he toes off his red bottoms, carrying you deeper into your home.

“Shh,” you suddenly hush, shifty-eyed and stiffening in his hold. 

Sylus quirks a brow, slowing to a stop.

Your lidded gaze slides to him, and with a pretty, drunken smile, you say, “My boyfriend’ll be here any minute, Mister. If you’re trying to get freaky, we better do it before he comes.”

Rolling his eyes, Sylus continues through your apartment, effortlessly hauling you to your bathroom.

The room floods with fluorescent light, and you wince against its brilliance, tucking your face into his chest with a hiss. He chuckles something low, depositing you onto your countertop. Your arms fall listlessly from around his neck at your sides, where you try vainly to prop yourself up. It seems gravity has other plans, a blissful, blurring wave of vertigo crashing into you. You reel forward with an intoxicated laugh, but Sylus is quick, steadying you with hands wrapped around your arms. 

He studies you beneath the light. Bites back a grin at your adorable swaying, soundlessly assuring you won’t go barrelling off the counter again if he steps away. He props you against the mirror before getting to work. Snatches a towel from your rack, dampening it beneath the warm spray of your sink’s faucet. 

Delicately, Sylus blots at your forehead, soaking up the sweat and grime you’ve accumulated throughout the night. He ducks down briefly to fetch some wipes from your cabinet and steps between your legs, cleaning off your makeup with rehearsed precision.

It’s not the first time he’s done this, and he finds solace in the monotony of it all. He feels honored, being this close to you. Tilting your head back with cautious fingers encasing your jaw. He strips you down to the marrow, literally and figuratively wiping off the facade you outwardly present to the world. 

You comment on how good he’s gotten at these domestic things, and his mouth twitches with a smile. For you, he would give up this menacing life he leads. Would arrange the stars in the sky if it meant waking to your smile each day, dancing and kissing in the kitchen over pancakes and overdone eggs. 

For now, he settles for this. And when he’s thoroughly swiped the remnants of your makeup from your face, he steps back to appraise his work. He prefers you like this, he thinks as he taps his temple. Bare-faced and unguarded, smiling without a care in the world. 

Taking up your hands, he tugs you to your feet. Moves like he’s working with porcelain, slipping the straps of your dress off your shoulders. He blisters your shoulders with kisses in his fingers’ wake as he slips your dress down until it pools into a serpentine pile at your feet. 

He divests you of your bra and panties, promising to behave despite how bewitchingly your skin glows and how easily it glides beneath his roving palms. He escorts you into the shower once he finishes, where its warm spray works as a soothing balm over your strained muscles. 

When you’re clean and lavender-scented, he swaths you in a towel he’d procured from the towel warmer he bought you and guides you into your bedroom, chuckling when you stop occasionally to tempt him into a kiss. 

Helping you into a comfortable set of pajamas, he eases you into your bed, the cozy linen drawing a pleased sigh from the dredges of your chest. Your eyes dance with sleep, and he’s about to leave you before your fingers weakly wrapped around his wrist stop him.

The look you give him makes his chest squeeze, and had he been anyone but Sylus, he’d be fawning and cooing over how adorable you are. 

“Stay,” you beseech, your voice husky with exhaustion. 

He hesitates for a moment. Murders you with anticipation, though he very well intends to stay. With a smile curving his lips, Sylus peels off his shirt, clad only in his trousers, as he slips beneath the comforter behind you. You settle against him, winding his arms around your middle. And you notch your hips up against him as if you’ve always fit there like a puzzle piece. 

You wiggle your bottom mischievously, but he stills you, reasoning that he’ll never take advantage of you while you’re inebriated. With a haughty pout, you give up on your efforts to seduce him.

You’re content with him holding you like this, stroking over the skin of your wrist with his thumb as you surrender your consciousness to the pretty girls of sleep, ushered to them by his even breaths at the shell of your ear.

[rqnarok]

summary: how old man!logan deals with jealousy…

cws/tags: smut, mdni! old man!logan. fem!reader. daddy kink. jealous!logan. dom/sub dynamics. unprotected p in v. pet names: kid, baby, etc. not proofread.

Imagine how Logan regrets taking you into that bar. He only wanted to take you out and let you try one of his favorite drinks. 

But he forgot the existence of those sneering boys who can’t keep their hands to themselves. He’d turn his head a little and suddenly a fuckin’ guy drapes himself in front of you. Rambling on to you his childhood story that is supposedly to be comical. 

The tips of his fingers grip the crystal clear glasses way too tightly it almost shatters. His brows furrowed and the lines on his forehead show themselves profoundly as he freezes, watching you from the counter. 

What’s bothering him the most, the plague crawling up beneath his skin, the one taunting his jealousy–is how you laugh at the guy’s jest. Because Logan knows that he can hardly make you laugh. Maybe a few sweet giggles but that’s all. 

Logan does know that there is nothing funny left in him at his old age. His much younger self would be capable of doing so—but he’s not young anymore. He could not make you cry out those sweet snickers he wishes he could. 

What he could, though, is holding you down with his arms as he laps at your slick folds. His calloused hands dug into your plush skin. His scruffy salt-and-pepper beard scratches at the sensitive core while he greedily sucks at your swollen clit—before diving into your hole. “Ah!” Humming a pleased rumble against your mound when you whine a high-pitched sound in pleasure. 

You try to cover up your face in shyness, struggling to look at him. Not when he’s looking at you in ferocity and possessiveness—as if you are his last meal. Your trembling figure is yet to be devoured by the prey inside of him.

“Pussy tastes so sweet, y'know that?” 

His deep deep voice is enough to make you tremble, but “Hmm. Daddy’s pretty cunt.” is making you writhe on the bed, begging him for more. 

“Tis’ pussy’s mine, yeah?” He’d continuously ask until your head bobbed at an erratic speed and acknowledged it with words, “Y-yeahyeahyea— All yours, Daddy.” 

When he remembers your interaction with that fuckin’d boy in the bar, he’d dip back into what he was doing, practically making out with your pussy, kissing it so passionately like he would kiss you. The squelching sound he makes between your thighs pushes you to gasp even more. 

Logan loves eye contact. Loves to see that you see who’s pleasing you: him. His mouth is on you and his eyes are also on you—peers at you with a dark lingering gaze. 

“Who gets this pussy wet, huh?” He asks as if you can answer properly when he’s got you like this, tongue fucking you. “S’ it those fuckin’ boys?” 

You’d shake your head, denials stuck in your throat as you feel the warm feeling on your stomach—how close you are reaching your high. Your head moves rapidly from side to side. No! No. It could never be them. It could never be anyone other than you, you want to cry out. 

But you’re too busy moaning out incoherently instead of saying it. Hoping Logan’d understand. 

And he does. “Or ‘s it wet for Daddy, hm?” He always does.

All you can do is nod and nod—nodding so fast not caring how your head might hit the headboard. Because it is always him, only ever for Daddy. 

He chuckles darkly against you, his tongue plunging back inside your pussy. Knowing it is the truth.

“Ya’ like me, sweet’art?” He hums after wrapping his lips on your puffy button and sucks—earning himself a mewl from you.

“Like knowin’ y’re fuckin’ an old man?” 

Your thighs tremble at how close you are and your head falls back into the pillow before looking at him again. The sight in front of you is everything: His grey beard is soaked with your slick, his eyes looking at you with both tiredness and yearning.

Logan grins as he feels you making grabby hands at him. He flicks his tongue over and over at your clit before sucking the swollen bundle of nerves between his lips again.

“Come for Daddy. Daddy’s got you.”

Your lips form a smile after you reach your orgasm—when you think he’s satisfied. 

Until he is not. Not even close.

“C’mon, kid,” Logan grunts as he squeezes the fat of your ass, “Y’ said y’r mine. ‘Said tis’ pussy’s mine. Huh?”

You’re mind empty as the older man manhandles you so his tip can reach that sensitive gummy spot inside of you that no one has ever reached. Not like this.

“Y-yeah— ‘s yours, Daddy, Ah—”

“Then fuckin’ prove it t’me.” He growls, “C’mon, let her soak on Daddy’s cock—fuckin’ prove it that y’r mine.”

The feel of his broad scarred shoulders pressing into your back makes you roll your eyes in pleasure. Your mind can only think of one thing, no, one person. 

“C’mon, baby. I ain’t got all fuckin’ day.” 

[happy74827]

You Must Be Haunting Me

[Brian Moser x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Even after a year, you’re still haunted by the Ice Truck Killer.

WC: 2643

Category: Angst, No Comfort {TW: Not Proof Read 😞}

I did another one!! Are you guys proud of me? 🥹

So, rewatching the season, I forgot how sassy he was so I wanted to really show off that aspect in this one. Then my patience was over it, so the ending is just kinda… bland. But it’s okay because it’s Brian (he seriously needs more attention FOR REAL).

Anyway, for those 14 Brian fans… this one’s for you 🫶

『••✎••』

The dark circles beneath your eyes. The way you can barely stand on your feet, your body so exhausted that you can hardly lift a finger to defend yourself. You’re like a walking corpse, and he's the one responsible for putting you in this state.

It started one year ago. One year ago, you moved to Miami and became the victim of a killer. It wasn't until his brother came along and put him six feet under that you began to heal and get back into the normal, everyday routine. But then he showed up.

It was one of those nights where you’d randomly get a jolt in your sleep. You sat up straight, the sheets pooling at your hips as you looked around the room. Your breathing was shallow, and sweat was beading on your brow. You felt a shiver run up your spine as you slowly laid back down.

"You sleep soundly."

His voice caused your heart to stop. You knew who it was, the same man who had terrorized you, who made your life a living hell. Slowly, you turned to your side, staring wide-eyed at the dark figure at the end of your bed. Your hands began to shake and tremble as you reached for the lamp on your nightstand.

"Oh, don't bother."

In an instant, with the sound of fingers snapping, the lamp's light went out. You could hear a chuckle coming from the intruder, and you were paralyzed, afraid to make a move.

I mean, it couldn’t be him, right? It was just some sick joke. He was dead. He couldn’t be here.

He couldn’t.

But, god, he looked the exact same. The curly dark hair, the pale skin. He was just a silhouette in the darkness of your room, and yet, you could tell that the grin he wore was the same grin that he had on the day you met him.

"You look like you’ve seen a ghost." He mused, moving closer towards you. His weight caused the bed to dip slightly, and you could feel the fear begin to take over your body. "Should I start saying boo?"

Your throat was dry, and you couldn’t speak; all you could do was stare at him, frozen in place. He lowered his head in amusement and chuckled, leaving his lips once more.

It was when his eyes weren’t on you that broke you out of your daze. You shot up from the bed, nearly tumbling over yourself as you ran to the dresser, grabbing the nearest thing you could find and throwing it at him. It was a vase, one that held a bouquet of flowers, that shattered against the wall, causing him to look up.

"…Was that supposed to scare me?" He asked, raising a brow as he tilted his head, an almost bored expression on his face. "You’ve got the aim of a blind man."

"Get out of my house!"

The sound of your own voice startled you. Anger wasn’t necessarily the emotion you normally felt, but now it was the only thing that was running through you. Anger and adrenaline.

He stood from the bed, taking a step closer to you, the broken glass crunching beneath his feet. You didn’t care; you took a step back, holding your hand out as if it would stop him from coming any closer.

"Get away from me, you psycho."

He laughed. He actually fucking laughed.

"Psycho?" He repeated, "That’s a new one."

"Stay back." You hissed, feeling the tears well up in your eyes.

He took another step.

"Don't touch me!"

Another. He was only inches away from you now, and the thought of him being so close made you want to vomit.

The annoyed sigh he let out when he noticed your hand trembling was enough to set you off. You didn’t think twice; the only thought in your mind was to get him out, and so you did.

When he was walking towards you, your mind remembered the small kitchen knife that you left on the counter. Quickly, you ran past him, dodging his hands as he reached out to grab you, and grabbing the knife, and in one quick motion, you turned and stabbed him.

"That’s not going to—"

It went right through his chest. He stared down at the knife, then up at you, with that all-knowing expression.

He sighed again, "…work."

What the fuck?

In the next moment, he vanished, and the knife fell to the ground, the clattering against the linoleum floor echoing through the house.

For a minute, you thought it was a dream. That is, until he appeared in the chair beside you, his arms crossed, his eyes boring holes into your face.

"You can’t hurt me." He said, his tone flat, his eyes narrowed, "I can’t either. Not physically, anyhow."

You stared at him. He stared at you.

"I can fuck you up, though." He continued, "In many ways. Mentally, emotionally… The possibilities are endless."

"What the hell is this?" You questioned, your brows furrowing, "Are you some kind of— of, what, demented Casper?"

His expression was unreadable, but then again, he always had that look on his face.

"Casper? Wow, seriously? You remind me why I don't watch movies." He groaned, shaking his head.

"You didn't answer my question."

"And you won't like my answer."

"Try me."

"You’ve lost it." He shrugged, "Completely off the hinges, you know? And that's saying something, considering who you’re talking to."

"I don't—"

"Have a mental disorder."

"What?"

"That's what it's called. When someone has delusions of grandeur, where they think someone is after them. Someone, of course, meaning me." He explained, a grin spreading across his lips. "But, no. It's all in your head. Just. Like. Me."

The words sank in, and you stared down at the floor, your mind processing everything he was telling you.

"No, I'm not crazy." You murmured, mostly to yourself, but loud enough for him to hear.

"You're not? Well, how else would you explain me being here?" He asked, cocking a brow, "I’m dead, remember? My dear brother made sure of that."

"I—"

"And you know damn well I’d never wear this out of the office. It's not exactly the most flattering."

It was then you noticed what he was wearing.

He had his lab coat on. His entire outfit was the same thing he wore the day he met you. You were with Debra to question him about Tucci’s recovery and, god, if he didn't make the biggest impression.

It was pretty hard not to like him when he was giving one of his patients, a little boy, a lollipop from his jar and making a joke.

You remember telling Deb, 'What a nice guy'.

Oh, the irony. The fucking irony.

"What a nice guy." You found yourself repeating before looking him up and down, your lips curling in disgust. "You were just fucking with me the whole time, weren't you?"

He shrugged, "What's it matter now? I'm dead."

"It matters to me."

"Would you like me to apologize? To beg for your forgiveness?" He asked, a mocking tone in his voice, "Would that make you feel better?"

You were silent.

"Wouldn’t do anything." He continued, "And it certainly wouldn't change a thing. But, hey! By all means, you go right ahead and play pretend. Maybe then, you'll sleep better at night."

You scoffed. He was such a piece of shit.

"How much are you gonna torture me, huh?" You asked, crossing your arms over your chest, "Torture me like you did, Debra? Like your brother? Are you just going to follow me around like a bad smell? Make my life a living hell, like you did theirs?"

"I didn't torture him." He stated, a hint of malice in his tone, "He's my brother."

"Like that means shit."

"He was just like me. A lot like me, in fact." He went on, his eyes flickering over to you. "I could see myself in him."

"Well, he killed you." You countered, "That doesn't really seem like brotherly love."

"He did what he had to." He shrugged, "That Harry… he was a real piece of work, wasn't he?"

You were quiet again.

"And Debra?"

"A pain in my ass. Always sticking her nose in places where it doesn't belong." He replied, shaking his head. "But, then again, that was her job, wasn't it?"

"You broke her. You tore her apart." You snapped, the memories of the past year filling your mind. "She really loved you. She really did."

"I know."

"You don't care."

"Not at all." He said, the faintest hint of a smirk appearing. "Not in the slightest."

"Fuck you."

He laughed, his laughter filling the room before it faded out, leaving the both of you in a heavy silence.

He had a different aura around him this time. It might be the aura of a dead man, a hallucination. But he still felt so… present. Even his mannerisms were the same—the way he moved his hands, the way he tilted his head. His eyes still had that glint of mischief. It was so real.

So. Fucking. Real.

"If your just in my head, why can’t I just kick you out?" You asked, finally breaking the silence, "Make you go away."

"Because, even after a year, I still affect you." He answered, his voice low. "Even though you try to ignore it and push the memories back, I’ll always be there. In the back of your mind."

"Why couldn’t you be my dead childhood dog or something? Why do you have to be some crazy serial killer that ruined my life?" You said, shaking your head.

"I'm not boring."

"Neither was my childhood dog."

"Rocky didn't have a single interesting thing about him. All he did was drool and lick himself." He countered, his lips pursing.

"How the hell do you know— oh, fuck this. Just go away." You groaned, rubbing your temples.

He didn't respond, and the room was quiet. For a second, you thought he actually listened. Then, you heard him hum.

"Hm. No."

"Jesus Christ."

"Now, that's really a name I haven't heard in a while."

This was how it became. For months, you would have these random conversations with him, and no matter how much you tried, he would never leave. Everywhere you went, he was there.

Work.

Shopping.

Even at the damn bar.

You had no idea what this was. You didn't know if this was a side effect of the trauma you went through. Whether it was your mind trying to cope or just the result of a lack of sleep. Whatever it was, it was draining the life out of you.

You felt like a shell. Your coworkers knew something was wrong. The way your eyes were dull and lifeless, the dark circles, the slump in your shoulders.

They were concerned—except Debra. She was too concerned about the case to pay attention to anyone else.

You weren't really sure what day it was. Or month. Time was going by, and you were slowly dying mentally, as he put it.

"Is this because I can't sleep?" You asked him one night, staring at the ceiling, your voice hoarse, "Because I can't go to sleep without seeing your face? Or is it because I don't have the energy to live?"

"I would say both."

You groaned, throwing an arm over your eyes, "What did I do to deserve this?"

"It's not what you did." He replied, his eyes locked on yours, "It's what I did."

"Yeah, well, thanks."

"Don't mention it."

The two of you sat there in silence before he cleared his throat.

"How are things with my favorite bloodhound?" He asked a curious tone in his voice. "Is he still sleeping with that cute blonde, or did he wise up and break it off?"

"Rita. Her name is Rita." You corrected him, shaking your head, "She’s his girlfriend, not his flavor of the week."

"Hm."

"And, for your information, they're fine. Great, actually."

"How disappointing." He scoffed, leaning back in his seat. He genuinely looked upset, which caused a snicker to leave your lips. "What's so funny?"

"You are." You replied, looking over at him, "You're so pathetic."

He blinked.

"You're a dead man. Dead. How can you be disappointed about his love life?"

"I'm his older brother." He stated, his jaw tightening, "I want what's best for him."

"Really? Then why aren't you in his brain, harassing him?" You questioned, a smile coming onto your face, "You know what? I bet he's sleeping great. He doesn't have to deal with this. Not like I do."

"I would love to give him a good old-fashioned night terror. It'd be easy, too. He's not exactly the most stable." He replied, his eyes narrowing slightly. "But his brain is too messy. He's always been that way."

"I guess he takes after his brother."

"He took after our father. The one thing I did was make him forget about it." He retorted, his tone harsh, "Notice how he never talks about the old man? Or the past? Now it’s only me. That's because of me. I took him from that shitty childhood. I gave him a better life. A better everything. I could’ve given him the world."

You were quiet.

"Instead, he killed me." He spat, the venom in his voice obvious. "Because of that stupid, half-witted sailor mouth."

You honestly had to give your brain props for this one. He was too realistic. He was too Brian.

"You know what?" You began, sitting up, "I really am feeling a lobotomy."

At that, he actually laughed. Now that… that was different from the chuckles and snickers, this was a full laugh, something you haven't heard since you met him. It was loud, it was obnoxious, and it was the only thing you could hear.

It was the last thing you heard before the most amazing thing happened.

You fell asleep.

In the morning, you woke up to a pounding on your door and an annoying ringing. Groaning, you pulled the pillow over your head, hoping the noises would disappear. Instead, they only got louder, and you had no choice but to get up.

"Coming, coming!" You shouted, shuffling out of the bedroom and towards the door, the banging and the ringing still going on.

When you opened the door, you saw Debra.

"Good. You're up." She greeted, her expression annoyed. "Where were you last night?"

"Sleeping. What are you, my mom?"

"I called you. I even sent someone by your house. You weren't here." She stated, a slight bite in her voice, "And I'm not your mom, but if I were, I'd spank you."

"For what?"

"We have a meeting in five minutes." She said, checking her watch, "Get dressed. I'm waiting."

"Shit."

In record time, you threw on some jeans and a shirt, and within the next three minutes, you were out the door and in the car with Debra.

But as she pulled out of the driveway, he appeared directly in front of her.

"Hey, watch—"

But he only winked at you before disappearing. And at the time, you found it nothing but him being a prick. But, later on, you would realize.

This was the last time you would ever see him.

A month went by. And another. And another.

Then, a year.

The visions of the past still came. The thoughts of him were still there. The memories were still fresh. And sometimes, if you listened closely, you could still hear that laugh.

But you weren’t afraid anymore. You had no reason to be. And so, you moved on. You continued living because that's what he would've hated. And that made you smile.

Because, now, it wasn't him haunting you.

It was you haunting him.

[fairqves]

⋆ ｡⋆୨୧˚— I’M NOT THE ONLY ONE.

𝜗𝜚 ༘⋆ ⋆˙pairing. husband! park sunghoon x fem! reader synopsis. you and sunghoon swore to be faithful to each other, unfortunately sunghoon couldn’t keep that promise. genre. angst ,, wc. 2012. 𝐥u𝐧a notes ⋆.˚ guys…how r we liking the layout 🤭.. 🫧 — 𝓵𝗂𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗋𝔂. | part 2

if you enjoyed reading ,, pls like and reblog !! ‹𝟹 it helps out a lot ¡!

the past year had been a painful rollercoaster of emotions, each high point you’ve had has been followed by a devastating low. you remembered the countless amount of nights you waited for sunghoon, watching the clock tick away the hours as he stayed out late, you had gotten so used to the sound.

the scent of his cologne lingering on his clothes when he finally came home, the way his tie was undone, the way he avoided your gaze when you asked where he'd been. your accusations of him being unfaithful were met with immediate denials, his words cutting deep even as he tried to reassure you that you were his one and only love.

"i would never cheat on you, y/n" he'd say, pulling you into his arms.

"you're my everything." he would say with that look in his eyes, with both love and a conflict he is fighting deep within himself.

and you believed him, of course you would. he’s the same boy who courted you for six months in university because he was so deeply in love with you, the same man who flew you both to hawaii and gave you the most magical proposal ever to be done.

you tried to hold onto the love and trust that had once been so strong, so unshakeable. but each forgotten date, each broken promise chipped away at your trust, leaving you feeling hollow and alone.

today, on the morning of your anniversary, you awoke with a sense of something different, hope for you and sunghoon.

this would be the day you reminded sunghoon of the love you still had for him, and always will. the love that had brought you together in the first place.

you spent hours in the kitchen, preparing his favorite dishes, your hands moving with practiced ease as you cooked. the smell of his favourite kimchi stew and freshly made kimbap filled the air, the same cooking he said he would never ever get tired of.

the scents mingling with the hope that maybe, just maybe, this would be the gesture that rekindled sunghoon’s love for you, you missed his touch, his kisses, the sparkle in his eyes, he still has it- but nowadays all he could really do is look down.

as you wrapped a red bow around the lunchbox, you grinned, perfect.

you drove to his office, each mile a reminder of the distance that had grown between you. as you walked through the lobby, your heart pounded with a mix of anticipation, fear, and longing.

the elevator ride seemed to take forever, the seconds stretching out as you rehearsed what you would say, how you would greet him, how you would kiss him.

but nothing in the world could have prepared you for the sight that met you when you opened the door to his office. sunghoon, your husband, the man you had vowed to love and cherish, for better or for worse, was locked in an embrace with his secretary, their lips moving together in a kiss that was all too passionate, all too real.

the box slipped from your hands, the sound of shattering glass, some pieces piercing your legs barely registering as you stood frozen in place.

you felt like you had been stabbed in the heart, you had never felt heartbreak before, and you didn’t understand people when they said everything hurt, now you did.

"y/n," sunghoon's voice broke through the fog of your shock, his eyes wide with panic as his hands trembled.

the hand with your wedding ring trembling.

"this isn't what it looks like honey,”

your chest tightened at the name, the name he couldn’t be bothered to address you as in months.

tears blurred your vision as you shook your head. the pain was unbearable, a physical ache that made it hard to breathe. without a word, you turned and fled, the sound of sunghoon calling your name fading as you ran. the drive home was a blur, sobbing as you got concerned looks from other cars, you were not in any shape to be driving, really.

but you didn’t care- your mind was reeling with the betrayal you had just witnessed.

at home, the same home you and sunghoon bought a month after your marriage- the home with six bedrooms because that was how many kids sunghoon wanted to have with you, the same home where you and sunghoon had late night talks, wrapped in each others embrace.

you moved through the house like a ghost, avoiding staring at the picture frame at the end of the hall, a picture taken on your wedding day.

your hands mechanically packing your belongings. each item you placed in your suitcase felt like another piece of your heart being chipped away.

you were almost finished when you heard the front door slam open, sunghoon's frantic footsteps echoing through the house.

“y/n-“

he cut himself off at the sight before him- the suitcase being packed, the sight of the wardrobe being oddly empty because your clothes would always be overflowing it.

"y/n, no.. please," he begged, sobbing as he fell to his knees before you. "don't leave me. i can't live without you, i won’t do it ever again."

you looked down at him, your heart aching with a mix of love and complete despair.

even after what he did to you, all you wanted to do was to be held by him again, all you wanted all these months was for him to finally long for you like you longed for him- how unfortunate the circumstances were, you thought.

his tears fell down his glass cheeks, his hands trembling as he reached out to you, you shivered at his touch, it felt so foreign, unfamiliar.

"i made a mistake," he cried, his voice raw with emotion. "i love you more than anything in this whole world. please, give me another chance- i’ll make you the happiest girl in the world, we’ll have six kids and we’ll grow old together!”

your mind wavered for a moment, the memories of your life together flashing through your mind. the happiest memories of your life with sunghoon in them, but you knew that staying would only be betraying yourself, that the trust between you had been shattered much beyond repair.

leaning down, you pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, it wasn’t for him, it was for yourself. the taste of his tears mingling with your own.

"goodbye, hoon," you whispered, your voice breaking. "i hope you find the happiness you couldn't find with me."

with a final look at the man who had once been your everything, you turned and walked out the door, the sound of your suitcase trailing behind you as you tried to keep your composure at the hysterical sobbing from sunghoon behind you.

the drive to your best friend heeseung's house was filled with the sound of your sobs and screaming, each mile taking you further from the life you had known.

when he opened the door, heeseung’s heart dropped. his eyes filled with concern at the sight of you. he pulled you into his arms without a word.

"it's okay, y/n," he murmured, his voice a soothing whisper to your wounded heart. "i'm here for you, im not leaving."

you clung to him, your tears soaking his shirt as you let out all the pain and heartache that had been building inside you. heeseung's presence was a comforting anchor in the storm of your emotions, his embrace a reminder that you were not alone.

as the night wore on, you found solace in the company of your best friend, knowing that you had made the right choice, even though it had shattered your heart into delicate pieces, pieces you didn’t know could be fixed.

in heeseung's arms, you allowed yourself to grieve the loss of the love you had once believed in, the loss of your best friend, and lover. the betrayal, the heartbreak, all of it poured out in waves of tears and hushed sobs.

heeseung listened to you without interruption, his presence feeling like a heavy blanket over you and the world, comfort as you navigated the gut wrenching feeling in your heart.

"it's not your fault, love" he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your tear-streaked face.

"you did everything you could." he said looking at you with a gaze in which you didn’t notice, you never did. the gaze you’d given sunghoon for years, the gaze he gave you long before you’d even met sunghoon.

"but it wasn't enough, hee" you replied, your tears rolling down your cheeks, voice raspy from all the sobbing, it was barely above a whisper.

"i wasn't enough."

heeseung shook his head, his expression filled with an ache in his heart and anger at your self doubt. "no, y/n. you are enough. you always have been. sunghoon's mistakes don't define your worth, he’s the dumbest man to ever live, i’d do anything to have you."

you turned to him, bewildered at his words. you looked down at his shaking hands as you sobbed wrapping your arms around him.

“i’m so sorry, hee. i’m selfish, you don’t deserve this- you should tell me to leave-“

he cut you off with a hard hug, you cried harder as his own tears soaked your bare neck.

“don’t say that- i don’t care if i get hurt, or you use me, i don’t. all i need is you beside me, okay? don’t worry about anything.”

his words, though comforting, couldn't fully erase the pain that lingered in your heart. but in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of your best friend's embrace, the love that radiates off of his body.

you felt a glimmer of hope, you were in no shape of moving on just yet, the road ahead would be difficult, filled with moments of utter pain and sorrow, but you knew that you wouldn't have to face it alone.

as the orange sunset began to filter through the windows, you found yourself at a break from the pain in your heart, staring out at the view in peace. heeseung's steady breathing beside you, the quiet hum of the world settling down, it all felt like a promise that everything would be okay.

you took a deep breath, letting the fresh air fill your lungs, and allowed yourself to believe that maybe, you would find happiness again.

with heeseung by your side, you faced the days ahead with strength. the pain of sunghoon's betrayal would always be a part of you forever, but it wouldn't define you. in the embrace of heeseung and the promise of a new beginning, you found the courage to move forward, one step at a time.

© FAIRQVES 2024 network ⊹ ࣪ ˖ @enchive

taglist open <3 @luvlyhee @sjyunnsworld @shawnyle

[crashandlivewrites]

Venom on My Tongue

This has been my baby for a long time. I've put a lot of love into this and thought it was finally time to share it with everyone. Much love to @soapsgf for being with me through all of it.

Pairing: Captain MacTavish x fem!reader

Summary: It started tame. A bartender and a patron with too many burdens bottled up that he'd rather empty another than tip himself over and let it all out. But ethanol fires burn invisible, and you couldn't see the cracks forming until it was too late.

CW: MDNI 18+ content, NSFW, (very) toxic relationship, sex, DUBCON/NONCON with one scene but it's very prominent, angst

Word Count: 28.7k

You weren’t supposed to be working tonight. In fact, this was your seventh night shift of the week, and you were running on fumes, as apparently, were all the army personnel at the bar right now. Grabbing the dustpan and brush, you swept up the eighth glass that had been smashed tonight within the span of two hours. 

Once the mess had been cleaned, you disposed of the shattered glass and returned to the front, feeling thankful the night was almost over. Service wise, at least. You’d already started closing, making sure the bar itself was clean, and the glasses were in the wash when your ears caught an indignant sounding tap on the bar. Raising your head, you noticed a young guy, probably a fresh recruit to the army base nearby, given the cocky spring to his step and glowing face. He hadn’t been through enough to have his emotions beaten down like the other veterans had. 

“Just another pint of lager, if you please.” He winked, elbows leaning on the bar. Gritting your teeth, you sighed in annoyance. 

“Last call was half an hour ago, mate. The bar’s closed.” 

“Aw, come on. I’ll make it worth your time.” He pulled a twenty-pound note from his wallet, wiggling it in front of his face. Your eyes narrowed. 

“An extra twenty means nothing when my job is on the line. The answer is no.” 

“I didn’t hear the call, musta been in the loo. I’ll keep it a secret, swear!” Clicking your tongue in annoyance, you shook your head, turning your body around and calling over your shoulder. 

“The answer’s no. Now get moving. or I’ll have you escorted out.” 

The recruit’s eyes hardened, and his tone turned sharp. 

“You’re a right fucking bitch, you know that? It ain’t that fucking hard to pour a pint. Should learn some proper respect for us soldiers—” He was interrupted by a loud slam, and he let out a sharp cry. Whipping around, you saw the young recruit cupping his face, blood pouring profusely from his clearly broken nose. Standing behind him was the broad man who’d been quietly sitting on the corner of the bar, drinking scotch all night. 

“Think ye need tae have a lesson in respect, crow.” The newcomer’s accented voice was gruff and short, his hand gripping the collar of the recruit’s jacket. 

“Just wanted another fuckin’ drink!” 

“And the lassie said the bar’s closed, ye doaty bawbag.” The tall Scot leered down at the recruit, who had finally shut his mouth. “Why don’t you and yer pals take yer leave for the night? Yer nae wanted.”

Mumbling incoherently under his breath, the young man backed off, scowling at the Scot, but didn’t press the matter, heading back to his friends and leaving your bar. Sighing in relief, you turn to the man, a smile on your face. 

“A sheòid.” You thanked him, in what you were sure was a terrible pronunciation of Scottish Gaelic that you’d picked up from the last group of Scotsmen that had passed through the bar. To prove your point, the man snorted, shaking his head as he smirked. “I’d offer you a drink in thanks but, bar’s closed.” 

“It’s nae bother.” He shrugged, reaching over to drain the last of his glass, placing it on the bar in front of you before nodding and running a hand through his ridiculous haircut. “Take care o’ yerself, lassie.” And then he was gone. 

•••

The next time you saw the mysterious man was on a busy Friday night. Army personnel were mixing with the regular townsfolk, making the bar rowdier than normal. You had been serving a group of men their drinks when he slipped in, the mohawk shaved into his head making him stand out, as he made his way over to the same spot at the end of the bar that he’d occupied last time. You hadn’t realised you’d been watching him so intensely until you felt cold liquid spilling onto your hand. Cursing at yourself, you shut off the tap and wiped the glass before handing it over. 

Wiping down the mess you’d created and washing your hands, you reached up on the shelf for the same scotch he’d ordered last time. It was perfectly normal to remember his drink of choice, you reasoned with yourself. He’d helped you after all. Pouring a glass, you took it over to him, his brows furrowing slightly. 

“I didnae order anythin’.” He said, lifting his head up to stare at you. The gaze was steely, but you held it firmly. 

“It’s the drink I owe you. For last time.” 

“Didnae do it fer charity.” Now it was your turn to frown. 

“Do you want the drink or not?” Instead of receiving another gruff reply, the man chuckled, shaking his head. 

“I’m havin’ ye on, lassie. Keep the heid.” Bristling as he laughed, you pushed the glass towards him before turning around and heading back to serve. 

It wasn’t until the end of the night when you got the chance to speak to him again. You hadn’t served him, having purposely put yourself on station at the other end of the bar. But you were closing, and the other servers had eventually clocked out, leaving you alone with a couple of drunkards and the grumpy Scot, with most folk having moved on to more livelier venues. 

You’d begun to clean when you noticed him out of the corner of your eye tap his empty glass on the counter. 

“Dinnae ignore me, lassie. It’s nae my fault ye cannae take a joke.” 

“I’ve been busy. And you’ve clearly been served.” You pointed to the glasses he’d collected to his left. 

“Aye, nae by you though.” 

“And whose fault is that?” 

“Och, c’mon lassie. Ye ken I didnae mean it.” He was smirking, clearly enjoying the fact he was riling you up. Taking a deep breath in and out, you placed your towel on the bar and turned towards him. 

“Do you want another?” You asked, motioning to the empty glass. His smirk morphed into a grin, and he slid the glass over to you. 

“Ta, lassie.”

•••

The next time, he hadn’t even been in the bar. In fact, you hadn’t even noticed him at all. You were rummaging through your bag under the dim light of the streetlamp which, maybe, wasn’t the smartest idea in hindsight, but your car keys had simply vanished. Swearing under your breath, you began shuffling things to the side and pulling stuff out, placing it on top of your car. You were so entirely focused on the interior of your bag, that you didn’t hear anyone approaching until it was too late. 

Something sharp and hard pressed against your back and your breath hitched, body freezing instantly as your eyes widened, glancing in the window of your car to see a hooded figure behind you. 

“Gimme the bag.” The man spat viciously, nudging you forward slightly so your chest was pressed against the cool metal. 

“Okay! Just take it.” Your voice pitched higher than normal, quickly working the straps of your bag off your shoulder to hold it out to the man. But he never took it. 

Instead, his weight was gone and the sick sound of a fist hitting flesh made you jump. Whipping around, you see a large man with a familiar mohawk shaved into his head, crouching over your would-be mugger. 

“Ye think yer brave?” You heard him sneer as he pressed the man’s face into the gravel of the car park. “Sneakin’ up on a lassie. Yer a right cunt.” You flinched again as his fist collided with the man’s face, causing him to let out a low moan of pain. Reaching down, the Scot hauled the mugger to his feet before shoving him away. Disoriented, he stumbled back, a hand up defensively. 

“I didn’t mean— I wasn’t trying to—”

“A load of fucking pish yer talkin’. Fuck off or I’ll cut ye baws from ye nethers.” The mugger— just a kid you’d come to realise now that his hood had fallen back— scrambled away from John, bolting into the night with his tail between his legs. 

Shrinking back against your car, you hugged your half-emptied bag to your chest as the man turned around. His face was harsh, still drawn in a scowl as he looked over his shoulder at you. 

“Are ye askin’ tae get hurt? Dinnae walk wit yer head in the clouds.” His tone was harsh and his eyes sharp. 

“I was just trying to find my keys.” You choked out, swallowing the bile that threatened to rise in your throat. “I didn’t realise— I’m sorry!” You hiccuped and the man’s angry expression fell, replaced by concern. 

“Shite, I didnae mean tae scare ye. C’mere lassie.” He stepped forward with open arms and, against your better judgement, you found yourself moving forward to be held. Strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you tight into his chest. He smelled strongly of tobacco, enough that it normally would make your nose curl in disgust, but in this instance, you buried your face in his chest, seeking his protection and comfort. 

 The man held you until he felt your breathing slowly level out. Gently, he squeezed your shoulders until you lifted your head to look at him. 

“Awryt?” He tilted his head to the side, raising the scarred brow as he looked down at you, his blue eyes much softer than they had been before. 

“I think so.” Your eyes traced over the features of his face, lingering on the scar across his chin. “Who are you?”

“John.” He said simply. You frowned.

“I need more to go on than a name, John.”

“S’all I can tell ye. Any more will bring ye more trouble than I’m worth.” 

“Thank you, John.” You let your head fall back into his chest, breathing in his tobacco-laced scent once more, as you slide your hands underneath his jacket, holding him close. His chest rumbled as he chuckled lightly, a hand running through your hair. 

“I’ll take care of ye, darlin. Dinnae fash yer wee head.” 

•••

The next time he popped his head into the bar, it was a quiet night mid-week, and you couldn’t stop the delighted grin from spreading over your cheeks. 

“John!” You greeted as he sat down, already reaching for his usual and pouring a glass. The twinge of amusement in his expression was easily read, his eyes twinkling as they bored into yours. 

“Ye been waitin’ on me or something, darlin?” He asked, reaching for the glass. 

“Or something.” You teased, throwing the towel over your shoulder as your expression turned slightly more serious. “I don’t think I ever—”

“Dinnae thank me, lassie. Please. Wasnae doin’ it fer praise.” Your face fell, brows knitting together as you let out a soft ‘oh’ before making a move to turn around. A hand gripped your wrist, making you look back. “I meant ye dinnae need to thank me. I was just lookin out fer ye. Makin’ sure yer safe ‘n all. Bonnie lass such as yerself shouldnae be working alone late at night.” 

You couldn’t stop the heat that was climbing up your cheeks at his compliment, so you ducked your head. 

“Still. You could have gotten hurt.”

John barked out a laugh, making you jump back in surprise at the intensity of it. The wrinkles around his eyes creased, keeping the wide grin on his face as he looked back at you. 

“It’s sweet ye think they could hurt me.” 

“They could have! The mugger had a knife—”

“He had a screwdriver, lassie. ‘Sides, I’ve dealt wit much more out on the job.” It was the first time he’d ever mentioned work in front of you. Yes, you’d assumed he was a soldier, a highly skilled one at that. They carried a certain look about them, one they all shared. And John had that look about him, while also bearing an air of something slightly more sinister. You refilled his glass as you spoke, glancing over your shoulder to check there was no one waiting at the bar. 

“I now know four things about you.” You announced. His brow raised with interest as he took a sip. “Your name’s John, you’re a trained soldier, you drink scotch, and you have a penchant for protecting poor girls like me.” 

He gave a breathy chuckle, shaking his head at your conclusions. 

“Almost right, lassie. I like protecting you.” The last word was said with a heated intensity, causing you to swallow thickly. Burning questions bubbled up your throat, threatening to spill, but you managed to keep your mouth shut, asking none of them. 

“Well, I suppose I should thank you for your service.” 

“No need. Keep refilling the glass and I’ll be fine.” He said, draining the glass. 

“Watch yourself, John. I might need to cut you off if you’ve had too much.” You refilled his cup yet again. His brow pinched in mock offence. 

“I’d sooner keel over before ye see me pished enough tae cut me off.” 

“We’ll see then.” You mused, raising your brow and, regretfully, turning back to your duties. 

He proved you right, still being able to stand and talk coherently even hours later. Well, coherent for him at least. He was the last customer of the night, sitting silently as he watched you clean up. 

“You know you can head out, right? You don’t need to stay on my account.” 

“Need I remind ye what happened last time?” His tone was a little sterner, warning you not to argue the point. You ignored it. 

“That was the first time it happened. And I’ve been much more careful since then.” You argued, hand on your hip. 

“Yer cute when yer mad.” He smirked, eyes twinkling with mischief as he pushed himself up. He walked towards you as you wiped the last table, sucking your teeth in annoyance at how easily this man had wormed his way under your skin. “But I’m glad tae hear ye’ve been keepin’ watch. Hate tae have something happen tae ye wee self when I’m not around.” 

He leaned on the bar, watching you closely as you finished closing up. You wracked your brains for something remotely witty to throw back at him. 

“You know, for a big man you walk awfully quietly.” 

“Necessary fer the job, darlin’.” 

“It’s almost creepy.” 

He shrugged, clearly amused by you. 

“Dae I make ye nervous, wee hen?” He cocked his head arrogantly, a cheshire-like smile spreading wider on his face. 

“You’ve beat up two men for me. I’d be stupid not to be wary.” It was the truth. He huffed a laugh, voice deepening as he spoke. 

“Good. Ye’d be foolish tae not be afraid of me.”

Your lips parted as he stepped closer, reaching out to brush strands of your hair out of your eyes. He stayed there, face mere inches away from yours as he stared into your eyes, searching. His presence felt overwhelming; his smell, his size, his demeanour, his appearance… 

“John.” Whispering softly, pleadingly, you tilted your head up ever so slightly as your hand gripped the hard wood of the bar. 

“Get yer coat, darling.” He breathed, stepping back. “It’s late. Ye need tae get home.” 

Frowning, you felt your heart thump in disappointment as you watched his retreating form. Making sure everything was locked one final time, you shrugged on your coat and grabbed your bag, walking to the back door and locking it behind you. 

John was waiting there, the familiar scent of his cigar smoke lingering in the air before you could even see him. 

“Why are you doing this?” You called into the dark. The soft glow of his cigar gave his position away as he inhaled. 

“Am I not allowed tae care about yer safety?” Sighing in frustration, your shoulders dropped as you looked at him, lingering in the shadows. 

“Why do you care, John? I don’t know you; you don’t know me.” Breathing heavily, John stubbed out his cigar and stepped forward into the light of the streetlamp. 

“Ye ken, I’m not a good man, lassie. Ye should keep away from me.” 

Snorting indignantly, you shake your head in exasperation. “You’re making that extremely difficult when you’re the one showing up at my workplace and wanting to claim all of my attention.”

“I’m not a good man.” He repeats, eyes unwavering and face set as he takes another step towards you. “Tell me tae leave, tae stay away from ye.” 

Breath hitching, you looked up at him, trying to read his expression and seeing the internal conflict. You shake your head, refusing to back down, as he uses his body to crowd you against the wall. Leaning forward, he rested his forehead against yours, breath fanning over your cheeks, making your nose crinkle. 

“You smell like tobacco.” 

“I’ve got mints in my car.” He responds just as quickly. The fight in you that was already waning in the bar earlier was practically gone at this point. 

“I’m not going to tell you to stay away. I don’t want you to go.” A lump formed in your throat as his nose brushed against yours. 

“I willnae let anything happen tae ye, darlin. I promise ye that.” He whispered softly, a calloused hand sliding up the back of your neck before he pulled your lips up to meet his. 

Moaning softly, your eyes fluttered closed as you slid your hands up his chest, gripping the front of his shirt and holding him to you. His lips were warm and slightly chapped, the remnants of the cigar making the kiss bitter, but it was something so intensely John that it made you crave more. 

His fingers ran through your hair, clutching tighter as the kiss grew more intense. His breath was ragged, fanning over your cheek as he groaned into the kiss, pressing his body against yours and pressing you harder against the wall. His tongue pressed against the seam of your lips, deepening the kiss as it felt like he was pouring all his emotion into this one moment.

And then he pulled back, slowly breaking the kiss as he breathed heavily. Swallowing, your eyes fluttered open as you panted, looking up at him in confusion. 

“What’s wrong?” Concern filled your voice as you reached up to cup his cheek. 

“Ye need tae get some rest. I’m keepin’ ye. Let’s get ye home, awryt?” 

“You’re strangely sweet, for a mysterious soldier who’s broken the noses of two men all in the name of my honour.” The corners of your mouth twitched into a teasing smile that was reflected on his face. 

“Call me chivalrous, darlin’.” 

“My knight in shining armour.”

“Wouldnae go that far.” He mused, his large hand sliding down to the small of your back as he steers you towards your car.

•••

He disappeared for a while after that, leaving a hole in your heart as empty as the spot at the end of the bar. It was stupid, you thought, pining and worrying about a man you knew virtually nothing about. But you couldn’t help yourself. 

Since you didn’t even have his bloody number, you couldn’t even message him to ask if he was alright, or when he was coming back. However, given the supposed nature of his job, he was liable to not answer depending on where he was stationed and how secretive his mission was.

To occupy the space he’d carved out for himself in your mind, you found yourself rethinking the kiss over and over again, running it through your head. The memory of his smell and taste occupied your thoughts to the point you’d even gone out specifically to find the cologne he wears, only to never find one that smelt right. 

It was late, way past when you usually left, but some idiot had decided to throw his shoe over the bar, sending alcohol bottles flying, clearing most of the bottom shelf and smashing the mirror behind. You’d closed the bar early in a fit of rage, sending everyone packing unceremoniously. Wiping your face in frustration, you finally cleared all the broken glass and spilled alcohol from the bench and the floor when you heard the door open. 

“We’re closed!” You snapped, not even bothering to turn around. “Read the sign.”

“Aye, but I cannae read, lassie.” The familiar drawl of his accented voice caused you to perk up and whip around. Sure enough, John was standing in the doorway looking particularly rugged, as if he’d gotten back recently, and this was one of his first stops. “Ye gonna blame a man fer wantin tae see yer bonnie wee face after a long couple o’ months?”

“John!” You cried, sprinting out from behind the bar and leaping into his arms in sheer excitement. He let out an amused noise of surprise, but wrapped his arms around you eagerly, holding you close and lifting you off the ground with ease.  

“Miss me that much, aye?” He teased as you buried your face into his neck, inhaling the scent your heart had been yearning for. 

“You were gone. I had no idea if you were safe or even alive. No means to contact you, either.” You dropped the last sentence, in hopes he’d pick up your meaning. 

“Ye of wee faith, lassie.” The tone was light as he squeezed you one final time before setting you down. “I’m out of range fer a lot of it, but I s’pose I wouldnae mind havin a way tae contact ye if yer not workin.”

Beaming happily, you reached into your pocket and pulled out your phone, handing it to him. His lips twitched into a half smile as his thumbs typed on the screen before handing the device back to you. 

John M. 

“I now also know your last name started with an M.”

“That ye dae. What’s got ye caught up this late? Been waiting outside fer a wee bit.” Your heart gave a happy thump at the thought of him waiting for you to finish, of him wanting to spend time with you. Sighing, you gestured to the bar. 

“Just finished cleaning up this mess, and now I’ve got to take stock of the inventory that was smashed and remove all the other bottles from the shelf in case the mirror behind cracks more overnight. Then I’ve got to file an incident report, send an email to the boss so he can arrange for someone to come out and replace the mirror. On top of my usual closing duties.” 

John’s brows drew together in a frown as he looked down at you with concern, hearing the weariness in your voice. Pulling you in for another hug, he placed a soft kiss on the top of your head. 

“Tell me what I can dae tae help.” 

“No, I can’t ask that of you. You’ve been away for ages. You're probably tired and—”

“Darlin…” His voice was soft as he tilted your head up, cupping your cheek gently. “I’m nae asking fer yer permission. I’m helping.”

As much as you hated to admit it, having John help out did make everything move a lot quicker. You felt guilty, making him work when he was back, but he refused to acknowledge you whenever you brought up paying him for his time. Instead, he requested payment in information, and spent most of the time asking you questions about your life:

Where were you born? What was your childhood like? Do you have any siblings? Where are they now? What drove you to work here? Do you have any dreams or aspirations? 

But whenever you retaliated with a question of your own, you were met with a chuckle and two annoyingly frustrating words. 

“That’s classified.” 

“Who are you? Some kind of secret service spy?” 

“I told ye before, lassie. Getting tae ken me will just bring ye more harm than good.”

“Then shouldn’t you stay away from me?” There was a spark of challenge in your voice and John snorted, looking up from where he was on the other side of the bar to stare at you with a dark smirk on his face. 

“I’m not a good man.” He repeated his words from the time just before he’d first kissed you, and it sent shivers down your spine. 

“On the contrary, you’ve done little to prove that point to me. Here you are on your own time helping me out to get home quicker. I don’t see how that qualifies as you being a bad man, John.” 

“Maybe I selfishly only want ye tae see the good side of me.” He winks before turning back to what he was doing, effectively shutting down the conversation. 

The long hours and lack of sleep finally caught up to you, and you felt yourself drifting off as you were typing away on the computer in the back office. Every time John poked his head in, your eyes were drooping, and you could only manage a weak hum in reply. 

“Awryt, that's it. I’m takin ye home.” He loomed over you, shutting down the computer despite your protests. “No, yer barely keeping yerself upright. Yer going home.” 

You couldn’t even struggle against him as he bundled you into your car and soon enough, you found yourself being carried into your bedroom. It was only when he placed you gently down on your bed that you shook your head to clear it. 

“How did you know where I lived?” You mumbled, looking up at him with furrowed brows. John gives you a look that leaves you feeling slightly unsettled, though you put that down to being delirious. 

“It’s on yer drivers' licence.” Oh. Now that made you feel stupid for assuming. 

“Thought you were a creepy stalker for a moment. Getting up all up in my business, knowing all my personal information when I don’t know anything about you.” 

“Yer the one lettin’ strange men into yer flat, lassie.” 

“I didn’t let you in. You let yourself in.” You said smugly, wrapping yourself in your blankets as you rested your head on the pillows. “And you’re not a stranger.” 

“Ye dinnae even ken my last name.” He chuckled, brushing hair out of your face again, his eyes tender.

“Because you won’t tell me. Is it MacGregor?” 

“No.”

“Macmillan?”

“No.”

“Mac—”

“How dae ye ken it starts with ‘Mac’, lassie?”

“Because you’re Scottish.” You replied, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. He snorted out a laugh at your reasoning before pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“Get some rest. I’ll see ye later.” 

•••

On a rare weekend night that you weren’t working, you found yourself out with a couple of friends. You wouldn’t say that you were drunk, but you were definitely not sober, floating in a happy medium as you moved your hips in time with the music, feeling yourself as you dance with your friends. It felt nice to be on the other side of the bar for once, letting your hair down and getting loose with people you hadn’t seen in far too long.

It was your turn to buy a round and so when a song you weren’t familiar with began to blast from the speakers; you motioned towards the bar to your friends before clutching your phone and heading over, leaning onto the bar and waiting your turn. 

The man standing next to you turned, staring at you with a smile. He was tall, you noticed, but wouldn’t be someone you’d look twice at. Not while you have your mind currently occupied with a handsome, mysterious man in your… situationship? If you could even call it that. 

“Having a good night?” He asked loudly over the music. Not wanting to be impolite, you gave him a small smile. 

“Yeah, just out with my friends.” You say neutrally, nodding your head yet casting your eyes back to the bar, waiting for your turn to be served, but the man wasn’t done just yet. 

“What’re you guys drinking? I’ll shout. Maybe we can link up with my mates after, whaddya say?” He nudges your shoulder, prompting you to glance up again. 

“Thanks for the offer, but we’re really just wanting a girl’s night.” You tried to keep your tone flat and disinterested, hoping it’ll deter him, but knowing your luck, it wouldn’t. Even when you were working, it took a lot for some men to get the hint, especially when inebriated. 

“My treat then? Come on, sweetheart. It’ll be fun. You can save your money and buy another round somewhere else?” He threw an arm around you, pulling you into him despite your resistance. 

“Please, it’s really nice of you, but I don’t want to take advantage of that.” Placing your hands in the centre of his chest, you tried to push him back. Thankfully, his grip loosened, and you managed to lift your head up. “I have someone, and so do my friends.” 

It wasn’t a straight up lie. You did have John, whatever you had between the two of you. Yes, you may have only kissed him once and yes, you hadn’t known him for that long in the whole scheme of things, but he stayed late to help you tidy the bar after the accident and then drove you home, tucking you into bed. That had to mean something, right? 

“I don’t see him here.” The guy gestured around, pulling you in closer and making your heart sink. “He won’t know. Besides, if you were my girl, I wouldn’t let you out alone, anyway. Pretty things like you should be kept in eyesight at all times.” 

It was at this point the bartender finally made his way over to you, and you leaned forward, telling him your order, thankful to have your attention away from the creep next to you. Nodding, the bartender placed three glasses out and began to make the drinks. 

“Aw, come on, don’t be like that.” You grit your teeth as the sleaze’s voice made its way into your ears again, and you felt a hand slide across your back. 

“Stop, please. I’ve told you; I’ve got a boyfriend.” With someone pressed against your other side at the bar, you couldn’t exactly step away from him, and he knew that. The bartender placed the drinks in front of you, and before you could even move, the guy paid for them. Cursing, you looked around, trying to see if there was anyone you could catch the attention of for help. 

“Not dressed like that, you don’t.” He said snidely, tugging at your shirt. Whipping back to face him, your eyes were blazing with fury. 

“How I’m dressed is none of your business. And frankly, none of my boyfriend’s either.” You went to grab the drinks from the bar, but a large hand reached over you, trapping your smaller one between it and the glasses as your back hit a firm chest. 

“Ye quite done chatting up my missus?” The voice was recognisable anywhere, and you let out a soft breath of his name as you turned your head to look up at him. John’s eyes were blazing as they stared directly at the creep before him. 

“You’re her boyfriend?” His voice wavered slightly as he took in John’s appearance. Quickly realising that he was outmatched, he turned to you, sneering. “Of course, you’re a fucking gold-digging whore, fucking a man twice your age.” 

Before you could even respond, John surged forward, grabbing the front of the guy’s shirt and tugging him close. 

“Ye wanna call my missus a slag ye say it tae my fuckin face, ye cunt.” He spat. The commotion caught the attention of everyone around you, including the bartender.

“John.” You tapped his chest, trying to push him back. “Just leave it. He’s not worth it.” 

“Aye he fucking is.” John growled, eyes flashing with rage, lip curling as his fist clenched tighter at the man’s shirt. “D’ye wanna tell her what ye did tae her drink, or shall I?”

You froze, glancing at the three glasses that had been left on the bar before looking at the guy, whose eyes widened marginally. 

“Don’t know what you fucking mean.” He growled back. 

“Och, I think ye do, laddie. I watched ye dae it.”

“Fuck off.” 

“John, that’s enough! Please!” You cried out, sliding out from between the men and pulling him away as you saw a bouncer heading over. “You’re causing a scene. Just leave it.”

You could see the hesitation in his eyes as he flicked between your desperately worried face and the guy’s angry one, before shoving him back and straightening up. 

“What’s going on?” The bouncer stood between John and the other man, looking back and forth between the pair of them. 

“He spiked her drink like a fuckin coward.” John seethed, finger pointing straight at the man’s face, taking a step forward. Grabbing quickly onto his jacket, you pulled him back as the bouncer grabbed the other man before telling John to get out as well. 

Without waiting, John gripped your arm and hauled you out of the club, not letting go until you were out on the street and clear of any loiterers.

“What the fuck, John?” You shoved him, pulling your arm out of his grip. He shot you a glare, baring his teeth. 

“Ye oughta be thankin’ me lassie.” His tone held an edge as he herded you down an alley. “Dae ye have any idea what that wanker woulda done tae ye?” 

“Where did you even come from? I thought you weren’t supposed to be back for another week.”

“Well, it’s a bloody good thing I got back early, huh? I dinnae wanna fucking think about what coulda happened tae ye!” John’s hands were on your shoulders as he looked deep into your eyes. “Fuck’s sake, lassie, I cannae be here watching yer back all the time.” 

His eyes were wide and pleading as he cupped your cheek, stepping forward to press his forehead to yours. “Ye told me that ye were gonna be more careful.”

“I tried to get rid of him. Why are you blaming me for almost getting drugged?” You looked at him in exasperation, pushing at his chest. “Are you just planning on standing there and yelling at me?”

“Fuck, fuck, umnae blamin’ ye, darlin. I just, I couldnae… I thought…” The words died in his mouth as he lifted his head to look at you, fear evident in his eyes as he sighed heavily, jaw clenching. 

“I’m sorry, John.” You whispered, lip trembling as the reality of the situation hit you, of what could have happened if John hadn’t had your back. 

“Dinnae apologise, darling, please. It’s nae yer fault. Just thinking about that… fucker puttin’ his hands on ye.” He pulled back, clasping his hands behind his head as he paced in the alley, breathing deeply to rein in his temper.

Pulling out your phone, you messaged your friends to let them know where you were before you stepped towards John, taking his hands in yours. His jaw ticked, but his eyes softened as he turned his attention to you. As you gave him a tender smile, you wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close as he slid his arms around you. 

“Thank you for looking out for me, John.” You whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his temple as you lightly scratched his scalp with your nails. He hummed happily, large hands sliding underneath the hem of your top, steering you until your back hit the wall.

“I cannae imagine losing ye, hen. Yer the only thing that keeps me going, that is worth coming back tae.” His breath was hot and ragged against your neck as he pressed wet, desperate kisses along the line of your neck. “Shoulda ripped his fucking throat out fer touchin ye. Fer hurtin’ ye. I’d’ve never forgiven myself if anything happened tae ye.” 

A shiver ran down your spine at his words, and for the first time, you wondered exactly how many men had been killed or maimed under John’s direction. He’d told you he wasn’t a good man, and you knew he was dangerous, but you couldn’t deny the rush that went through your body as he held you like this, soft and tender, whilst speaking about harming another person to keep you safe. 

“You need to be careful. You might end up on the wrong side of someone.” Like he always managed to do, John’s touch lit a fire in you, and you felt your body responding eagerly. His mouth spread into a wide grin, the stubble tickling the skin of your neck. 

“How many times dae I have tae say it, lass? Ye think eejits like that can hurt me? ‘Sides, yer worth the trouble of it. Worth. Every. Fucking. Moment.” He sucked on your neck with each word, nipping as he moved down, causing you to whine and tip your head back to give him more room. 

He groaned at the movement, hands sliding further up your torso as he pushed a thigh between your legs, pressing up against your core. Breath hitching, you gripped his shoulder for stability as he continued his exploration of your neck. Heat flooded through your body as he nipped and sucked his way up to the junction of your jaw, and you rolled your hips against his firm thigh. 

“Wait… John wait.” You managed to get out, letting out a strangled moan as he sucked on your neck and ground himself into you, allowing you to feel exactly how badly he wanted this. He growled in frustration, but pulled himself away from you. 

“I shouldnae dae it anyway. Ye’ve been drinkin—”

“I’m not drunk, I promise. I want you. God, I want you. I need you, John.” His eyes rolled back in his head at your words, hands squeezing your waist in a clear attempt to restrain himself. That only made your arousal spike, seeing his jaw flex with tension. 

“Ah dinnae wanna take ye here, hen. Not like this.” 

“Then just let me.” You whispered into his ear, pushing him back slightly so you could sink to your knees in front of him, hands already toying with his belt as he growled deep in his throat. 

“Fucking Christ darlin. Ye gonna kill me. Ye dinnae have tae—”

“I want to, John. Been thinking about this for months. Can’t believe you were this patient.” He let out a strained chuckle. 

“‘S not fer lack o’ trying, lass. Just hasnae been the right time.” He rested his forearm on the wall, glancing down at you with a strained expression. “Ye dinnae have tae.” 

“I want to.” You repeated in a low tone, tugging open his zipper and pulling down his underwear to expose his dick. Your eyes widened fractionally as you took him in. He was uncut, only half-hard but already mouthwateringly thick, with dark hair surrounding the base. 

“Too much fer ye?” Frowning, you looked up at John, who was staring down at you, a smirk plastered on his face. He reached down to cup your face tenderly before taking a firm grip in your hair. “But since ye down there, ye’ll be good fer me, aye?” 

“Yes, sir.” You grinned before opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue, dragging it up the slowly stiffening length of his cock before taking him into your mouth and tonguing the underside. 

Groaning at his taste, you could feel his cock swelling in your mouth, and you pulled back, spitting on his cock and working your hand over the heavy length, helping him grow to his full size. Letting out a soft hiss, John’s fingers pressed into your scalp, but didn’t push you down.

“That's a good girl.” He praised breathlessly. Allowing saliva to pool on your tongue, you ran it along his shaft, getting him nice and wet as your hand continued to pump him. The gravel of the pavement was digging into your knees, but you didn’t care. Blocking out the pain, your lips curled around the head of his cock, pushing his foreskin back gently and sucking lightly. The feeling of him on your tongue made you moan, and John let out a reciprocal groan as he stared down at you, fingers tightening in your hair. 

Cocking your brow in amusement, you kept your eyes fixed on him as one hand wrapped around the base of his cock to hold him steady. You allowed him to watch as you opened your mouth, swirling your tongue eagerly around the head and bobbing slowly. 

“Fucking Christ hen, ye wanna stop teasing?” He panted, pulling you off and tipping your head up to look at him. “‘Cause I’m in a real mind tae fuck ye throat right now.”

Squeezing your thighs together, your breath hitched with his words, and you couldn’t stop the pathetic whine that broke out. John’s eyes lit up in the darkened alley, shining with delight as he stared down at you. 

“Ye like the sound o’ that lassie? Well now, put on a good show and I’ll gladly oblige.” Taking hold of his cock, he slapped it against your cheek, smearing his pre-cum on your skin, and then he fed his cock between your lips. Letting out a soft noise of surprise, you relaxed your mouth, allowing him to press himself in. Sealing your lips around him, you began a steady rhythm, bobbing down his shaft as your tongue laved along the underside, sliding over a vein that caused him to jerk. 

You chuckled, sending vibrations down his length, making him hiss in pleasure. Pulling most of the way off his cock, you locked eyes with him before swallowing his cock down to the base. Your nose was pressed against the dark hair at the base of his dick, and you could smell his distinct musk that made your own arousal spike. He tugged at your hair and let out a carnal groan, hips canting forwards to sink deeper. 

Relaxing your throat, you held him there for a bit, swallowing around him as you felt saliva pooling in your mouth, threatening to spill out. Pulling back, you took in a deep breath before sliding back down his length again, bobbing your head slightly so that the head of his cock repeatedly pushed down your throat, sending John into a spiral. 

“Fuck— oh fuck darling. Feels so fucking good around me. Takin me s’fucking well. Look at ye… swallowin’ mah cock down like a greedy fucking slag.”

Both of his hands now rested on the sides of your head, fingers tangled into your hair as he tipped his head back and moaned at the feeling of your mouth around him. Wetness pooled in your underwear at the sight of him losing his composure, and you couldn’t help but run your hands up the broad expanse of his thighs, taking in every inch of him. One hand settled to squeeze his ass as the other cupped his balls. They were large and heavy, swollen and full of spend that he was aching to shoot down your throat. 

“Aye that’s it. Hold my fucking balls fer me. Feel how badly I wanna fill ye up. God ye so fuckin good fer me. My slut. My good wee whore, aren’t ye?” 

He thrust his hips forward suddenly, causing you to gag and pull back, sucking in a breath as you looked up at him reproachfully. John just grinned wider at your disapproval, his voice coming out heady and rough. 

“Sorry darlin, got a wee bit excited. Ye feel so good wrapped around my cock. I’m almost there, lassie, c’mon. Keep suckin’ me.” There was no preamble this time as John immediately pressed his hard, thick cock back into your mouth, looking down at you as your lips spread wide around the base. Your mouth and throat were going to ache tomorrow, you knew it, but you also didn’t care and wanted to take everything he’d give you. 

He rocked his hips forward, the head of his cock pressing deep down your throat as you relaxed, allowing your eyes to flutter closed as a tear slid down your cheek; a mix of shortness of breath due to his eager thrusts and the biting, protesting pain from your aching knees. 

“Oh, fuck that’s it—that’s it, my wee fucking slag. Cry fer me, cry on my dick.” One of his hands cupped the back of your neck as the other roughly gripped your hair on the crown of your head, holding you in place as he ruts his hips forward into your mouth. You couldn’t do anything except let out a slightly garbled whine, which did nothing but make him moan throatily and toss his head back as your hands slid up to press against the front of his thighs.

“Shite, I'm gonna come. Fuck me, I’m gonna come.” John’s voice was strained as he spoke, hips moving forward in an inconsistent rhythm before he pulled out. Using the hand on top of your head, he tilted your head up to look at him, forcing your mouth open as his other hand worked over his cock. His eyes were glued on your face, messy and debauched, and the mere sight of it sent him over the edge.  

His body drew rigid, and he let out a strained gasp before shoving the throbbing head of his cock into your mouth, flooding it with his hot release. 

“Take it.” He urged, eyes dark and fixed onto your face. “Take it, take it all for me, my good wee whore. That's it.” You let out a soft moan, working him through the release by sucking on the tip of his cock. Finally, John pulled back, and you released his cock, watching it flop; flaccid and spent between his legs.

Panting heavily, John reached down with a hand, swiping his thumb tenderly through the mess of saliva and cum on your chin before he pressed the digit into your mouth. Without even being asked, you sucked it clean, and then pressed a kiss to the junction of his groin and thigh as you rose to your feet grinning. 

“Fuck, darling. Yer somethin else.” He returned the wide smile, hand coming up to close lightly over your throat as his mouth descended on yours roughly. His tongue pressed into your mouth, intently sweeping along yours to taste himself mixed with you. He groaned, pulling away as he tucked himself back into his pants, zipping himself up and motioning to the end of the alley. 

“C’mon, hen. I’ll take ye home. That way, I can fuck ye somewhere nice.” You were not one to disagree.

•••

Later that night, you were lying on your bed, curled into John’s side with your head on his soft, fuzzy chest as his arm was thrown around your shoulders. The pair of you were hot, panting and sweaty, but you wanted to be close to him, and John was happy to indulge you. 

With a leg thrown over him and your head resting on his chest, you allowed your fingers the freedom of roaming over his chest, tracing the lines of his scars. 

“Do you remember what they’re all from?” You asked, running over a fairly new scar that was raised on the upper part of his abdomen. 

“Most of them.” He mumbled sleepily, eyes closed as he rested his head against your pillow. “That one yer touching was caused by a knife.” 

“You were stabbed?” Lifting your head, your brows furrowed in concern as you looked up at his face. The corners of his lips twitched upwards. 

“Dinnae fash, darling. I’m fine now.” Squinting his eyes open, he placed a hand on the back of your head, gently pushing you back down to rest on his chest. You obliged, letting yourself be settled by the rhythmic beating of his heart. 

“You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?” His hand squeezed your shoulder before moving to trace down the length of your bare back. 

“Aye.” Was his simple reply as he looked down at you. “And I cannae say anything about it.”

“Can you just let me worry about you?” You grit out, pushing yourself up to look down at him, frowning as you met his gaze. “When you’re gone for long stints, I can’t help but think about what you’re going through.”

John let out a long sigh, as he kept his eyes fixed on yours, unwavering and steady. “I’m not doing it tae hurt ye, lassie. ‘Sides, I’d rather ye not hear what I’ve been through. It’s ugly stuff.”

“That makes me worry more.” His lips spread in a toothy grin at your remark, and he runs a hand lightly up your side. 

“Yer sweet, hen. I like that about ye.” His tone was casual, but his eyes and jaw were both set firmly enough for you to realise that he was once again trying to put an end to the conversation. But you weren’t giving up. 

“Will you tell me why you were back early?” 

“Ain’t much tae say. We got the job done. I’m back.” He said tersely, pushing your hand aside so he could sit up on the edge of the bed. You felt an ache in your heart at the gesture, realising you may have pushed him too far. 

“I’m sorry. John, I’m sorry.” Quickly moving, you sat next to him, hands on his shoulder and chest. “I just— it hurts when you’re gone, and I have no clue what’s happening to you, and then you just show up like you did tonight… I’m still getting used to this. To you.” 

Your breathing was rapid as you stared at his face, eyes glancing over his tense features. He intentionally wasn’t looking at you, lips pursed and eyes slightly narrowed as he was lost in thought. The pair of you stayed like that for a good few minutes, and every second more only made your heart beat faster as your skin prickled unsettlingly. 

Finally, he blinked, turning his head towards you and placing one of his large hands over your thigh. “I ken it’s not easy being with a soldier. We go through a lot, some more so than others. We often have a temper, dinnae like when things are out of our control.” 

Nodding along, you sat there patiently, letting him talk his mind. His hand squeezed your thigh in appreciation, head nodding as he continued. 

“I dinnae like tae think about what could happen. Cannae afford tae. My life is on the line every time I leave, and I cannae change that fact.” He cupped your face tenderly, tracing a thumb over your cheek as a sense of longing lingered in his eyes. “I want tae tell ye things, but I willnae put ye in that position.” 

“So what do we do?” Lifting up your hand, you wrapped it around his forearm as he leaned his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. 

“Ye have tae accept there are things about me I cannae tell ye. It’s just fer the best, lassie. I’ll try and tell ye what I can. Ye can still ask questions, but ye cannae get mad at me fer not being able to tell ye things.”

“Okay, John.” You whispered, feeling his breath fan across your cheek. He pressed a tender kiss to your cheek before pulling back. 

“I’m sorry it has tae be this way. And I ken it’s selfish fer me tae want so much from ye and fer ye tae get sweet fuck all in return.” A grin tugged onto his face at his words and you felt yourself smiling in response. “But I’m a selfish man, lassie. And I cannae let ye go, not when ye’ve dug yer way into my life.” 

Still smiling, he pushed you back until you were lying down, staring up at him as he stroked the hair from your eyes. Fondness and desire were both evident in his eyes as he lifted himself up onto his knees, rearranging your body so he was nestled between your legs once more. 

“Am I yours, John?” You asked, needing some kind of clarification on where you stood in the relationship, if it was right to say you were spoken for. 

“My god, sweetheart, I’d kill a man tae keep ye safe and unharmed. Of course yer mine.” He growled, an edge to his tone as he leaned back down. Tilting your head back, he attached his mouth to your neck, sucking red, claiming marks over the column of your throat. “I fucking wish I could shout it from the rooftops. Wish I could tell the whole world yer mine.”

As his teeth dragged along the sensitive skin, you gasped, arching your back and locking your legs around his waist. You wrapped your arms around him, fingers threading through the strands of his mohawk. 

“I’m yours, John.” You whined, tugging at his hair and making him grunt in satisfaction. 

“Say it again.” He demanded in your ear. 

“I’m yours. I’m yours. I’ll only ever be yours.” 

Groaning, he pushed himself up to reach for his wallet, grabbing out another condom and rolling it on. Settling back down between your legs, he dragged his hardened cock down the length of your slit before pressing inside; using your previous release and the lube on the condom to help ease the slide as he sunk down to the hilt. 

“Say it. Say that yer mine as I fuck ye.” He pleaded, burying his face into your neck as he set a sloppy pace. His hands grabbed at your body, pulling you into him as though being pressed against each other and being inside you wasn’t close enough. 

“I’m yours, John.” You mewled. His cock was so thick that despite already being taken earlier, you still felt the burn of being stretched out by him. Clenching yourself around him, you dragged your nails down his back, desperate to mark him as he marked your neck. 

John let out a desperate grunt, thrusts already becoming sloppy as the heat of the moment got to him. 

“Aye, yer mine— all fucking mine. Mine tae have, mine tae fuck.” His voice broke slightly as he moaned, teeth closing on your shoulder as he tried to silence himself. He dragged his wet tongue over your skin, tasting you as you bucked your hips up to meet his. 

“John— oh fuck, John. Please, come inside me. Mark me as yours. Need it. I need to be yours.” The bite of his fingernails on your skin was vicious as he held your hips in place, allowing him to punch his hips forwards until he slammed into you one final time, cock pulsing as you squeezed around him. His arms held you close as he ruts into you, emptying the last of his thick seed deep inside the condom with a muffled moan against your shoulder. 

The weight of him was almost suffocating, and you pressed your hands into his shoulders, whining as you still hadn’t found your release. John chuckled, pressing a final kiss to your shoulder and admiring his handiwork briefly before lifting himself off and sliding down your body. His thick fingers were already toying with your slick cunt as he kissed down your body. 

“John…”

“I ken ye want it, darling. Dinnae fash, I’ll give it tae ye, because yer mine, aren’t ye? Say it fer me.” You nodded blissfully, eyes fluttering with the way his fingers curled inside you as you felt the heat of his mouth against your inner thigh. 

“Yes. I’m yours, John. Only yours.” 

“That’s right. My good wee whore.” He cooed before lowering his mouth to your glistening cunt.

•••

-> Are you free tonight? Need to see you before I leave tomorrow

You had to pause and sit on your couch to stare at your phone when the text first came through. John rarely initiated a conversation through text, much preferring to call you or for you to message first and let him know if you were working, out, or at home for the night. Receiving that text from him made your heart lurch in your chest and you found yourself jumping to respond immediately. 

<- I’ll be home all night. What time are you coming? x

-> Late. Still prepping and will leave early tomorrow

<- That’s alright. I’ll wait up for you. Can’t wait x

Glancing at the clock, you noted it was just on five in the evening which meant you probably wouldn’t expect him for several hours, much to your dismay. However, given the mess that was currently in your flat, maybe the extra time wasn’t a bad thing. 

As you were cleaning, you were struck with just how much John had inserted himself into your life in such a short period of time. Though he was often away for weeks or even months at a time, you still kept a drawer for him in your closet and a shelf for him in the bathroom at all times. Just seeing his toothbrush next to yours every morning put a smile on your face. 

You hadn’t put a label on the relationship you had with him yet, not that you minded. Whenever talks turned to more serious topics, John tended to shut the conversation down and close off. You couldn’t blame him though, being a soldier and all, you thought, maybe he’d been through some difficult relationships, and didn’t want to make any promises he couldn’t commit to. 

It was nearing eleven, and you were snuggling on the couch in one of John’s shirts when you finally heard his key in the lock. You’d never technically given him a key, he just took your spare one with him one day when he was back and you’d never had a second thought about it. Pushing the door open, he stepped in with a weary look on his face, but he still gave you a smile. 

“Sorry I’m late, darling. Got held up. Glad to be home wit ye.” Leaning over the couch, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, dropping his bags and heading towards the kitchen. Your heart preened at his acknowledgement of home and you pushed yourself off the couch to follow him. 

“There is food in the fridge if you’re hungry.” You tell him as you walked in. “And I grabbed another six pack for you. The ones you like.” The last sentence you added a little more shyly. He paused while filling up a glass of water, turning to look at you with mild surprise. 

“Ye didnae have tae do that fer me.” He set down the glass on the bench after draining it and held out his arms. “C’mere, lassie. I’ve missed ye.”

It was easy, falling into his arms and letting them wrap protectively around you. Burying your face into his firm chest, you inhaled deeply, allowing his comforting scent to surround you as his lips pressed against the top of your head. 

“How long are you going to be gone for this time?” Despite trying to hide the pain in your voice, John’s arms squeezed you tighter. 

“I’m nae sure, darlin’. It’s why I wanted tae stop by. Spend some time with my girl.” His girl. Shivers ran down your spine as you glanced up at him with a soft smile before standing on your tiptoes to press your lips against his, wrapping your arms around his neck. He hummed, smiling into the kiss as his hands clutched at your waist, holding you close to him. 

The kiss was languid, mouths slowly moving against each other as you tilted your head to the side, a comforting warmth spreading through your chest. His lips were cold, as if he’d been outside for a long period of time, and you could taste the remnants of tobacco, something you had been becoming rather familiar with. You honestly felt like you could stay like this for hours, in his arms, mouth on yours, your hands in his hair. It felt like a dream, and one you didn’t want to wake up from. 

Nibbling on your bottom lip, he sucked it into his mouth, pressing his tongue alongside yours as he cupped the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair and holding you steady. Somehow, he always knew just how to make your knees weak and you couldn’t help but moan softly. Chuckling, he broke the kiss, pulling back slightly so he could take in how glassy your eyes were from a few touches. 

“I’m gonna miss ye, doll. So fucking much.” 

“Don’t say that, you’ll make me cry.” You said, brushing your nose up against his. His head cocked to the side and he smirked before leaning forward. 

“The only cryin’ I wanna see ye do tonight is on my cock.” He purred, tracing his tongue over your earlobe and causing your breath to hitch before your brows furrowed, slapping his shoulder and causing him to laugh. 

“You’re so vulgar, John.” You scowled playfully, pulling back.

“Dinnae act like ye want me tae stop.” John grinned, quickly spinning you around so your back was against the bench. “Yer easy tae read, bonnie wee lass. I see that look in yer eye when I talk pure filth. Gets ye all riled, aye?”

His voice lowers, making your skin prickle as he leaned over you. The cool stone of your bench top was pressing against your body, essentially trapping you, but you really didn’t want to be anywhere else. Drawing your bottom lip between your teeth, you grinned at him, eyes dancing over his face. 

“I bet if I just reached between yer legs…” You inhale a shaky breath as John slides his hand between your legs and prods your wet heat with intent. “Aye, just as I thought. Already slick fer me like the good girl I ken ye are.”

You almost hated how easily he could get under your skin, how well he could read you, but you really couldn’t complain about it.  Especially considering how well looked after he made you feel before, during, and after sex. Biting out a smart retort was also out of the question, since the gentle circles he was tracing on your clit rendered you speechless. 

“Fuck doll, look at ye. So breathless already and we havenae even started.” He cooed, grinning almost sadistically as his eyes hungrily roamed your body, before stopping.  Withdrawing his fingers, he tugged at the hem of the shirt you were wearing. “Is this my shirt?” 

“Yeah, wanted to smell you.” You answered him, finally finding your voice. “Had to make do since you were so late coming home.” His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, hand moving to slide underneath the hem of the shirt. 

“I like ye in my clothes. Should wear them more often.” 

“Bring more over and I will.” 

“Cheeky.” He admonished, flashing you a toothy grin as he tapped your nose. “And demanding.”

Drawing your lip between your teeth once more, you found your expression mirroring his. It was easy, falling into this sense of domesticity with him. Pushing on the bench behind you, you lifted yourself up so you were sitting on the cold stone, John standing between your knees. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards as he looked down at you, tilting his head marginally. All at once, you could feel heat building in your face and you ducked your head to break eye contact. 

“What are you looking at?” The words were mumbled into your shoulder as you glanced away from him. 

“You.” His voice was soft as he lifted your chin to meet his gaze once more. “I’m always thinkin’ about you, lassie.” Grumbling playfully and curling your lip, you nudged his hand away. In retaliation, he placed his warm palm on your cheek, holding you tenderly as he rested his forehead against yours. 

“Good thoughts I hope?” John simply chuckled as he pulled back, eyes glinting as his lips stretched into a smirk. 

“Doll, sometimes I dinnae think ye even ken what ye do tae me.”

“Is that really such a problem?” Lifting your head, you stared up at him with a teasing smile. Snorting in amusement, John shook his head at you, thumb tracing against your cheekbone. 

“Aye, it is. Yer a succubus. Sent by the devil himself tae test mah faith.” Now it was your turn to laugh at him. 

“I never took you for a religious man, John.” He shrugged. 

“More in the name than anything. But me Mam would skin me alive if I said otherwise.” The mention of his mother made your ears prick. He’d never once mentioned his family, or his background directly, but every time he saw you, he let a little more information about himself slip. It made your heart thump a little faster, happy about the small bits of information you were slowly teasing out of him the longer you brushed at his thick outer coat.

His lips reconnected with yours, the rough, calloused skin of his palm pressing against the back of your neck to hold you steady. Teeth tugged at your bottom lip, sucking lightly into his mouth as he growled deep in his throat before pulling back. 

“Bedroom.” His voice was husky and thick, hands tugging at the shirt you were wearing. Feeling your own desire rising, you followed without complaint. Reconnecting your lips to his, the pair of you felt your way through the flat as he steered you towards your bedroom, hands and mouth never leaving your body. “Let’s get you out of these clothes.”

The oversized shirt was wrenched over your head and cast aside, leaving you in your underwear as he kneeled above you, eyes raking hungrily over your exposed body. His hands slid underneath your thighs, encouraging them to wrap around his waist as he placed himself between your spread legs. Burying his face into your neck, he breathed deeply, mouth latching onto the tender skin near your collarbone. 

“Yer fuckin’ perfect, doll. Prettiest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever seen. I cannae believe yer mine.” Reaching between your bodies, he pulled aside your underwear, fingers delving between your folds to collect your wetness. Swearing under his breath, John returned his mouth to your neck, sucking on the soft skin, digits continuing to tease between your legs. 

Lifting up a hand, you carded your own fingers through his hair, tugging at the longer strands of his mohawk as you whined softly. 

“John… please.” The man grinned into the crook of your neck, pulling away only to slide your underwear off and roll you onto your side, slotting himself in behind you. 

“Be a good girl fer me, got it?” He cooed, dragging his teeth over the curve of your ear. “Just lemme touch that bonnie cunt o’ yers.”

Hooking one of your legs over his arms, he used his strength to keep your legs spread apart for him as he toyed with your slick cunt. His fingers collected your wetness before alternating between rubbing your clit and crooking his fingers inside you expertly. It hadn’t taken him long to discover exactly how to touch you to make you writhe and moan for him. 

“Tell me who this pussy belongs tae.” His skin was hot against your own, warm breath fanning over your neck as he growled, deep and low. 

“Me.” You protested, head lolling as he turned his head. 

“Och, I dinnae think so, lassie.” He said, deploying several sharp spanks to your cunt. Every impact made you clench and whine, trying desperately to wriggle out of his strong grip, but he tittered. “No no, none of that, bonnie lass. Tell me again. Who does this wee cunt belong tae?” 

“You— fuck! You, John!” Your mouth parted with a loud cry as he hummed his approval, plunging his fingers back into you as he reached around with his other hand to stimulate your clit. 

“That’s it, that’s a good girl.” Crooning into your ear, he didn’t relent, causing you to barrel towards your release. With your back plastered to his chest and your legs thrown over his strong arms, you know it was useless to try and wriggle away, but his overwhelming assault on your cunt brought tears of pleasure to your eyes and you whined pathetically. 

“John— please! It’s too much.” His response was simply to chuckle darkly in your ear and continue the dexterous movements of his fingers. 

“No it’s not. Ye can take it, doll. Ye said ye were gonna be good fer me.” Squeezing your eyes shut, you let out a cry of his name as your walls fluttered and pulsed around him. You felt yourself gush over his fingers with a cry of his name and he whispered soft praises, kissing over your shoulder and neck. 

Coming back down from your high, you rested your weight against him, panting heavily as his hands ran soothingly up your sides. Then, rolling you onto your back, he pulled a couple of pillows underneath your hips, lifting you up slightly. 

“Such a fucking sight.” He groaned, running his hands up your body momentarily before shucking off his shirt and unbuttoning his pants, tugging them off. Grabbing his wallet, he opened it before his brows pinched together and he cursed. 

“What is it?” Pushing yourself up, you looked down at him as he rummaged through the pockets on his pants. 

“Ah dinnae ken where I put the fuckin’ johnnie, hen.” He grumbled, looking up at you with a sorrowful expression. 

“I have condoms in my drawer if it’s an issue?” Gesturing to your bedside table, you made a move to open it, but a firm hand stopped you. 

“I have a latex allergy, hen. I cannae just use any old one.” His thumb caressed your wrist tenderly. “I’m sorry.” 

Furrowing your brows, you purse your lips, having an internal debate for a few moments before you reach out, placing your free hand on his arm. 

“I trust you.” 

The three simple words made him lift his head, and he cursed under his breath. Surging upwards, he pushed you back down onto the bed, nestling between your legs. 

“Ye sure, doll? I can fuck ye raw?” The tone of his voice was relatively neutral, but the grip of his hands on your hips conveyed his excitement. 

“Please.” You couldn't stop yourself from whining the words out as you rolled your hips up, brushing your clit against his aching cock. Hissing, he rested his forehead against yours, gently brushing your hair back from your face.

“I’ll pull out.” He breathed, hands clutching tighter as the bare head of his cock brushed against your wet core. Shaking your head, you cupped his cheeks to stare into his eyes. 

“It’s okay, I promise. Just… please John. I need it— need you to fuck me.” 

“Steaming Jesus, hen.” He growled, hooking your legs around his waist, he leaned down to match his mouth onto one of your nipples, tugging at it with his teeth. Moaning and arching your back, you threaded your hands into his hair, holding him to your chest. The head of his cock bumped against your clit as he rolled his hips, the air thick with lust.

Pushing himself up, he stared down between your legs as he held the base of his dick and ran it up and down the length of your slit, collecting your wetness to ease his entrance inside you. John’s grip on your hip tightened, choking out a grunt as he once more buried his head into the crook of your neck. The stubble tickling your sensitive skin as he let out a strangled gasp, sinking down to the hilt. His teeth latched onto your shoulder and he began to rut his hips into yours. 

The pace he set was rapid, sweat already dripping from his brow from the effort of restraint. His hands never remained still, caressing down your legs and brushing up your back, relishing in mapping every inch of your body. Moving, he shifted to rest his forehead against yours, eyes squeezed shut as he groaned, hands carding through your sweaty hair before he pushed himself up.

Cold metal brushed against your cheek and you turned, seeing his dog tags dangling above your face. He never usually wore them with you, always taking them off and tucking them into his bag. Your fingers laced around the chain, lightly holding onto it as his hips continued to buck into yours. A deep groan rumbled from his chest, sending shivers down your spine. His eyes were dark, blown wide with lust as he panted above you, sweat beading on his brow. 

“Ride me.” He croaked, gripping your hips and rolling the pair of you over until you were straddling his waist. Pulling his dog tags over his head, he hooked them around your neck, watching with hungry eyes as the metal bounced between your breasts with every thrust. “Fuck, that’s it. That’s my good girl.” 

Leaning forward, your hands splayed across his hairy chest, anchoring yourself as you began to ride his cock, slamming your hips down in order to chase your second release of the night. Grunting out a curse, John gripped your hips tightly, bucking up into you and slapping his hand across the cheek of your ass. The smell of sex permeated the room, clouding your senses, until you couldn’t think about anything else other than the man on the bed below you, and how good his cock filled you. 

Your thighs were protesting, burning from the effort of riding him, but you couldn’t stop, not when you were teetering on the edge of release, your clit grinding deliciously against the coarse hair above his dick. The slick sound of his cock entering you and the grunts of pleasure he was letting out were all that mattered, and you felt yourself spiralling. 

“Close… I’m so fucking close.” Digging your fingers into the meat of his chest, your breathing quickened as you felt the familiar heat coiling in your gut. 

“Umnae gonna last.” John’s voice was deep, making your pussy clench at the idea of his impending release, knowing you were finally going to feel everything. His hands gripped you tightly, bouncing you on his lap as you rocked your hips desperately downwards to meet his thrusts. 

“Please…” You begged him, struggling to maintain the rhythm of your grinding as you edged closer. “I need it, I need to feel you.” 

“Shite, I’m gonna fill ye. Fucking Christ, yer gonna drain me.” Panting, John reached up to grip the chain of his dog tags around your neck and pulled you down so he could smash his lips against yours. 

The kiss was messy, full of spit and teeth as both of your climaxes loomed over you. His hands clutched your ass, nails digging into your skin as his breathing turned ragged as the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. 

“Fucking hell— I need tae come, please. Lemme come in ye, hen. Please— oh fuck— keep doing that. God ye feel incredible.” Moaning into your skin, he dragged his tongue up the column of your neck, tasting the salt on your skin. 

“Do it— fuck please do it.” The twitch of his cock inside you made you cry out, clenching tightly around him as you felt your orgasm rip through you. 

“Fuck… holy fuck I can feel ye— shite yer gripping me so fucking tight. Jesus doll, umnae… I cannae…” He trailed off, mouth latching onto your breast as thrust up into a couple more times before pinning his cock deep inside you as he groaned gutturally. Thick, hot cum released inside of you, his cock pulsing with every spurt as he moaned into your chest. His hands ran up your back, holding you to him as you both sagged into the bed, panting heavily. 

Unable to hold yourself up any longer, you keeled forward, head landing on the pillow next to John. The man chuckled, his touch feather light on your skin as he pressed a soft kiss to your temple. You were unsure how long you remained like that, pressed together and still intimately connected, but you knew it wasn’t something you were ready to lose just yet. 

John recovered first, gently rolling you off him so he could slide out and press a tender kiss to your forehead before standing up. When you let out a whining noise of protest and gripped his arm tightly, he stroked your head reassuringly. 

“Just getting a washcloth, sweetheart.” And you relented, allowing him to leave and come back, a warm cloth gently cleaning the mess he’d made of you. Humming softly, you blinked your heavy eyes open and stretched lazily. 

“I hope you’re not planning to do anything other than sleep right now.” He chuckled, walking once more to the bathroom to wash the cloth before sliding into the bed next to you. Curling into his side, you felt the brush of something hard on your chest, and you realised you were still wearing his dog tags. 

Glancing at him in silent question, he nodded once, hand running reassuringly along your back as you reached down to read the engraved text. 

O POS

2073521

JOHN

MacTAVISH

ARMY

RC

“John MacTavish.” Rolling the name over and over again in your head, you let it sink in. Finally, you knew his full name.

“Aye, that’s me, lassie.” He smirked, leaning back against your pillows. “Now yer getting to ken all mah secrets.” 

Laughing softly, you shake your head and curl into his side, allowing him to wrap his muscled arm around your body. Resting against him was warm and comforting, and you could imagine staying like this for the rest of your life. 

“I’d hardly call your full name a secret.” You mused. “Especially not when you’ve known mine from the beginning.” 

“That’s different.” He reasons, shrugging lightly. 

“Also, I have a bone to pick with you.” Jerking your head up, you narrowed your eyes down at him. Frowning in concern, John looked at you, waiting for you to elaborate. “You remember when I was guessing your last name and I kept saying names beginning with ‘Mac’ and you gave me shit for it?” 

A broad grin spread over his handsome features, one of the most genuine smiles you’d seen on his face and it warmed your heart to see. 

“Aye, lassie. I was just having ye on. Yer a smart one. Couldnae fool ye even if I wanted tae.” Playfully, you bat against his chest and he laughs. Unable to resist the jovial sound, you joined in, a wide smile spreading over your face as you looked at him. You admired every little feature of his face, from the stubble on his chin, to the bright blue of his eyes, to the splash of freckles over his cheeks, to the scar that crossed over his left eye. 

“Thank you for trusting me.” The words were barely audible due to his laughter, but he settled down and cupped your face gently. 

“Anything fer my girl.”

Despite waking up fairly early the next morning, the other side of your bed was cold and empty. Reaching a hand around your neck, you found the dog tags were gone and you felt immediately alone. This was stupid, you thought, he said that he needed to leave early. You knew this was coming. But it still hurt nonetheless every time he left. 

Going about your normal morning routine, you made your way into the kitchen where a neatly folded note lay on the bench, addressed to you. Smiling to yourself, you opened the letter and began to read. 

— Sorry for leaving so soon, but we had to make an early start. Took the six pack with me, the lads are gonna love you for it. If you need to buy a pill, there’s some money attached. If not, buy yourself something nice, on me. 

Take care of yourself and I’ll see you when I’m back. —

Taking the page up to your nose, you inhaled his strong scent and sighed heavily. It was a common theme for him to up and leave suddenly and the pain of it never went away, but he always came back and you could feel that your heart was already aching for the reunion. 

•••

You were in your kitchen unpacking the dishwasher one night when you heard your front door open and slam shut. 

“John?” There was no response to your call, but the loud stomping of boots on your floor let you know that it was him as you finished off your task, closing the dishwasher. Frowning, you went to turn around to walk towards the door but your heart leapt out of your chest as you walked straight into a solid form. “Jesus Christ, John. You could have warned me you were right behind me!” 

Placing a hand over your heart with a light chuckle, you tried to brush off the fright with laughter, but one glance up at him wiped the smile clean off your face. His eyes were dark, almost black as he stared down at you coldly, jaw twitching as his hands clenched. 

“John?” Your voice shook now, and you felt your heart racing as he loomed over you. Despite all the times you’d seen him be physical with someone else, he’d never done so much as raise a hand towards you or made you feel unsafe, yet the way he was staring down at you now made you tremble with fear. “John, what’s wrong—”

“Shut up.” He snarled, lip curling as he reached out to close a large hand on your jaw, using it as leverage to push you back until your hips met the cold stone of your bench top. “Just fucking shut up.” 

The tone of his voice made your breath hitch and eyes widen, teeth chattering as your whole body felt like it was on a knife’s edge. You did as you were told, keeping your mouth shut as you stared up at him, glancing between his eyes, hoping to see some kind of remorse. But they were cold and empty, exactly like he’d been towards the men that had threatened your safety. 

Immediately, thoughts raced through your head, trying to recall everything you’d said and done over the last few days, wondering if something had set him off. Panic began to set in as he pressed you further back against the bench, and your hands scrambled to find purchase. 

“You’re scaring me.” His nose twitches at your words, but his grip didn’t relent. 

“I warned ye that I’m nae a good man, lassie, and ye didnae listen.” He sneered, stepping closer to press his body against yours, caging you in. “And so I’m gonna fuck ye, and yer gonna take it like a good wee whore.”

The grip on your jaw tightened as he made sure your eyes remained fixed to his. Swallowing thickly, your mouth parted as you stared up at him, confusion spread over your face. 

“John, I don’t think we—”

“Yer gonna shut that fucking mouth and take my cock, or I’m gonna find someone else who will.” You snapped your mouth shut at his words, an ugly feeling of jealousy clawing underneath your skin at the thought of someone else having him. Biting the inside of your cheek, you just managed to keep the tears that threatened to spill at bay. 

The complete shift in his usual persona set you on edge, and you had no idea what could set him off or make things worse for you. And so, against your better judgement, you nodded in submission. His lips curled into a sadistic grin, hand moving from your jaw to thread into your hair, gripping it roughly. 

“Get on yer fuckin’ knees.” He growled, practically tugging you down by your hair towards the ground before your body could even begin to process his command. The feeling of your knees hitting the ground made you hiss in pain, but you quickly buried the response as he tilted your head up and shoved your face into the seat of his pants. 

His jeans smelled of dirt, sweat, and ash, making your nose crinkle in distaste, but not wanting to complain and set him off even more, you kept it to yourself. Groaning above you, John’s breathing was heavy as he ground his clothed cock against your cheek. The rough material of his pants was painful against the skin of your face and you whimpered softly as his fingers pulled harder at your hair. 

“Get my dick out.” The command was sharp and left no room for complaint. Wanting to make quick work of the situation, you tugged his pants open, finding he had no underwear on, and his cock was already more than half hard. The idea of him being hard and getting off to this made your stomach twist unkindly, bile rising in your throat. 

Ignoring the burning sensation, you dropped open your jaw and went to take him into your mouth when his firm grip in your hair stopped you. 

“Did I fuckin’ say ye could?” His tone was harsh and cruel, laced with a mocking lilt. “Greedy fuckin’ slag. Only good fer takin’ cock, ain’t ye? Go on then. Open up and make this worth my time.” 

Taking hold of his ruddy cock, he slapped your cheek with it, pushing it into your face as he continued to press his hips forward. When you didn’t take it straight away, he tapped two fingers to your chin and you immediately dropped your jaw open, allowing him to bury his cock to the hilt. The feral moan he let out as his head tipped back made your cunt clench shamefully. 

The bulbous head of his cock breached your throat easily, making you gag violently and move to pull off, but he held you down, growling at you. Suddenly, a hand slapped across your cheek, causing you to let out a muffled cry at the sting. 

“Ye’ll take what I fucking give ye, understand? Dinnae even think about disobeying me.” His tone was already ragged, signalling he was on edge. A small mercy, really, because it meant this would hopefully be over soon and you could get John back. Or at least, who you thought John was. 

He swore under his breath as he began to buck his hips forward, holding your head steady as he thrust in and out of your mouth. Relaxing your throat as much as you could, you dug your fingernails into your thighs, the sharp bite providing a slight distraction from the painful stretch of your jaw. His heavy balls slapped against your chin with every movement of his hips and he groaned out noises of pleasure as you continued to swallow him down obediently. 

Tears streamed down your face as you squeezed your eyes shut, the thrusts continuing. You tried to regulate your breathing as much as possible whenever he pulled back, focusing on not passing out as he fucked your throat brutally. 

“Open yer eyes!” Another slap landed on your cheek and you choked out a sob, blinking your teary eyes open to stare at his cruel face, leering down at you. You couldn’t even properly focus on him, the vision swimming before your eyes. “That’s it, show me how messy ye are. How messy this cock makes ye.”

To contrast with the brutal thrusts, he released one hand from your hair, cupping your cheek as he wiped a tear away with his thumb. He pulled out fully, making you lurch forward, coughing as you heaved deep gulps of air back into your empty lungs. Wiping your lips dry of spit, you looked up at him, hoping to see a shift in his expression, but there wasn’t. 

“Up.” His voice was still cold and your heart gave a painful thump, missing the usual warmth and care that came with his touch. You obeyed his command instantly. “Strip and bend over the sofa.” The tone left no room for protests, but to emphasise his point, he spanked your ass, making you jump into action. Rushing around him, you pulled off your clothes, hearing him move close behind you. 

You’d barely managed to tug off your underwear and bend over the arm of the couch when his hands were back on you. They were demanding, touching and squeezing and prodding at every inch of your body as if he had the right to every part of you. Burying your head into the plush cushioning, you whimpered out a cry as he shoved several fingers into you. He tittered, clicking his tongue in annoyance at what he felt. 

“Ye nae properly wet? Tha’s nae my issue. Shoulda used that dumb head o’ yers to realise I was gonna fuck ye next.” His words caused your eyes to widen. Breath hitching, you whipped around, shaking your head pleadingly as you reached for him. 

“John, please— just talk to me, we can—”

“Shut. Up. If I wanted to talk, I’d be talking, not fuckin’ ye. If ye cannae take it, smack me three times for fucks sake.” He said scathingly, pushing your head back down into the cushions. “Dumb fuckin’ bitch fer making it harder than it needs tae be.” 

He was giving you an out, you realised, head finally processing the words. All you had to do was hit him and he’d stop. Raising your fist up, it hovered in the air next to your body. The grip on you was still firm, but he paused all his movements, waiting for your response. The fist you made shook as you squeezed tightly, nails digging into your palm. Yes, he’d stop, but he also said he’d leave and fuck someone else earlier if you refused. Hating yourself and the cruel words he was spitting out, you lowered your hand back down, instead clutching at the fabric of the couch to distract yourself. 

John’s hands pulled your hips back to rest flush against his as he ground himself forward with a sadistic chuckle. 

“Knew ye wanted it, whore. Now shut ye gob and take my dick like ye were made tae.” Leaning over you, he spat directly onto your cunt, filling you with his thick fingers and crooking them just how you liked it, making your body react, jerking and clenching around his fingers as you moaned into the couch.

When he decided you’d been prepped enough, a hand tangled into your hair and shoved your face into the couch. His cock pressed into you, a burning stretch accompanying the slow slide. Your eyes snapped open and you breathed, trying to relax yourself as he buried himself into you, groaning against the skin of your back. 

“There we go. Was that really worth all that struggle?” The words were mocking as he began to thrust, immediately moaning when he felt you clench around him. “Good fuckin’ bitch. Being such a good cock sleeve fer me, lettin’ me use yer holes like this. Maybe I should fuck that arse too.”

Teeth nipped between your shoulder blades as he began to angle his hips, pressing a hand into the middle of your back to arch it further. Groaning in satisfaction, he began to slam his hips into yours, rocking pleasurably against that spot inside you he knew too well. Mostly against your will, your body began to react and you could feel yourself getting wet, making the slide of his cock easier. 

“That’s it. There we go. Yer getting wet now, ain’t ye? Just needed a fat cock in ye tae remind ye of yer place.” John let out a gruff chuckle, rolling his hips to catch against your walls, making you jerk and squeeze around him. His calloused fingers reached between your legs, playing with your clit as he continued to fuck into you from behind. You hated the fact he knew your body better than you did, you hated the fact he could play you like a fiddle, you hated the fact he knew exactly how to touch you to make you moan, and yet, you loved how he made you feel. 

Already, you were rocking your hips back against his, the familiar curling in your gut making its presence known. Moaning raggedly into the sofa, you felt tears dripping down your face, a mix of fear at what was happening and how John was acting, but also out of shameful pleasure that he was so easily wringing out of you. John grunted, babbling words that made no sense to your dizzy head as his thrusts grew harder and more erratic, making your toes curl with pleasure. 

“Fucking Christ yer tight. Thought ye’d surely be loose by now wit how many times I’ve fucked ye. Just a good wee whore fer me, aye?” His teeth sunk into the skin of your shoulder as one of his strong arms pulled you flush against his chest, the other still toying with your clit. “Feels so fucking good around me, god I miss this cunt when I’m gone. My fist doesnae even dae it justice. Always dream of fucking it when I get back.” 

Unable to stop yourself, the tension that had been building inside of you snapped with his words and you cried out, a sobbing moan signalling your release. John swore viciously, pressing you back down into the sofa as his pace picked up, chasing his own release now. Your brain was barely functioning and you couldn’t process anything around you, just laid there pressed into the cushions of your couch as your sort-of-boyfriend railed his cock into you until he moaned his release loudly. 

His body trembled, shaking violently as his cock twitched inside you, filling you with his seed. Nails dug into your hips as he held you close, not letting you escape for several minutes as he continued to climax. When he’d finally finished, he pulled out of you with a groan, fingers immediately scooping his cum and pressing it back inside you as he cooed softly, kissing up your spine.  

Now that the heat of the moment had passed, you squirmed away from him, feeling disgusted with yourself. Pushing yourself up on shaky legs, you stumbled towards the bathroom, ignoring the calls of your name as you shut and locked the door behind you. The handle jiggled frantically, a large body slamming into the door before the knocks started. 

“Doll? Doll, c’mon. Open up fer me.” Even to your ears, his voice sounded strained and panicked, but you couldn’t do it. The only thought on your mind was what he’d said earlier, about leaving you. “Please, sweetheart, just talk tae me. Dinnae shut me out!”

Turning the shower onto a blisteringly hot temperature, you crawled under the hot spray, tears rolling down your cheeks and mixing with the water as you cried, curled on the shower floor. The rapid knocking ceased or maybe you had just tuned it out under the sound of the pouring water. Maybe he’s finally gotten the message and decided you weren’t worth it, you thought miserably, head resting against the tiles. However, with John, that was wishful thinking. 

A few moments later, your ears managed to catch the sound of the lock clicking and the door being pushed open. Of course he could pick locks, idiot, you chided yourself. The curtain of the shower was pulled back, revealing his frantic, worried face. 

“What in God’s fucking name— fucking shite lassie!” He yelped in surprise at the heat of the water, hissing as he pulled his arm back and glaring at the tap. Turning the tap, the water immediately cooled, much to your dismay “Ye tryin’ tae burn yerself or summat?” 

“Yes.” You spat, the harshness of your tone taking him aback as you turned your body away from him. Frowning, John crouched down, his hand reaching to slide up your arm, but you pulled out of his reach. 

“What’s going on wit ye? Just upping and leaving like that?”

“Just leave!” You sobbed, curling into yourself tighter. He made a noise of confusion, climbing into the shower with you and sitting on the edge. 

“Nae until ye talk tae me.” 

“Why should I? You didn’t talk to me earlier.” John’s eyebrows remained pinched together as his head tilted, as though confused by your words. 

“Wha— hen, ye ken I cannae talk about my job. I’d just had a rough mission, needed to let off some steam.” Your eyes widened at his reasoning, tears pricking in them all over again as you scoffed at him, shaking your head. 

“Are you fucking serious? You needed to blow off steam?” The pitch of your voice rose as anger set in. “You fucked me like that because you needed to blow off steam?” 

The expression on John’s face grew a little more jaded as he eyed you cautiously. 

“What’s the matter? Ye had no issue wit it, ye came, ye didnae say no.” He shrugged, simply believing he was laying out facts as he stared at you, huddled in the corner on the shower floor. 

“You said you’d fuck someone else if I didn’t let you fuck me!” Reaching over, you shoved him, taking him by surprise. Confusion spread over his face as he processed your words before shaking his head. 

“I wouldnae dae that, lassie. Just was in a mood after we got back and needed a rough fuck.” A look of impatience was beginning to set in on his expression. “Ye didnae say no.” He repeated, raising his scarred brow. 

“I would have said no.”

“No, ye wouldnae have if i talked tae ye, so i just skipped a step. Ye never say no anyway.” Opening your mouth to protest, he waved his hand, voice turning gruff. “I dinnae wanna fight wit ye. I came here tae relax so are ye gonna calm down about this or am I gonna have tae leave?”

From your position on the floor of the shower, you turned your head away from him further, so he couldn’t witness you crying anymore than he already had. You felt stupid over how insecure you’d been, and felt you should have realised he wouldn’t go seeking someone else out, but the feeling still lingered deep in the back of your mind. 

“How was I supposed to know?” Sighing heavily, he ran a gentle hand through your drenched hair, wiping it off your face. 

“C’mon hen, get out of the shower. I’m nae talking tae ye in here like this. Yer being silly, doll.” Shrinking in on yourself, you nodded meekly, standing up under his watchful gaze. 

John didn’t speak through the process, pressing his fingers to your lips or holding up his hand if you even opened your mouth. Towelling you off, he pulled a clean shirt— one of his shirts, you noted— over your head before steering you into your bedroom. 

Stepping out for a moment, he came back in with your phone, your water bottle, and a heat pack. Silently, he set your bottle down before tucking the heat pad onto your chest before tucking you in. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he stroked your forehead, staring down at you. 

“Feeling better, doll?” 

“No.” His eyes closed as he sighed, jaw flexing. 

“Are ye gonna talk tae me properly?” 

“I was! You didn’t talk to me, John.” 

“Ye ken I’ve got a hard life, lassie. And I told ye I wasnae a good man. I’ve warned ye. Sometimes I just—” Biting his tongue and clenching his fists, he took a moment to breathe before continuing. “Sometimes I need tae fuck rough and hard, completely dominate something.”

“Then just tell me that. I thought I’d done something wrong, or made you upset. Then you said you’d fuck someone else and I… I didn’t know what to think. You’ve never been like that with me.” You stared up at him, but his eyes were locked onto the floor. His foot tapped rhythmically as you watched his jaw clench and unclench. 

“I’d never really hurt ye. Doll, ye mean a lot tae me. Just needed tae get that out of my system. Yer fine, we’re fine.” The casual dismissal as he stood up didn’t sit right with you, but you knew it wasn’t going anywhere, especially not with everything so raw and John on edge after just getting back. So you relented. 

“Okay. Just… you’re not mad at me, right?” Sliding under the covers, John wrapped a strong arm around you, pulling you close so he could spoon you, hand resting against your chest. 

“Nay, umnae mad at ye, lassie.” He confirmed, mumbling into the back of your neck. 

John fell asleep soon after that, his snoring filling the quiet room as you laid awake, crying silently in his arms. You were still confused and hurt by his actions, not really understanding why he’d reacted this way towards you, and why he refused to take any ownership. The whole relationship was a mess, with no real structure, but all the same, you couldn’t imagine yourself without him. 

Finally, after several hours lying awake, you managed to fall into a fitful sleep, plagued with horrid dreams about John leaving one day and never coming back. When you awoke the next morning, you felt groggy and disoriented. Glancing over, you saw the other side of the bed was empty. Trying to ignore the ache in your heart, you reached over to tug the pillow close, inhaling the lingering musky, yet spicy scent of John that you’d become accustomed to. 

The door clicked open and you bolted up, eyes wide. John was stepping into the room, two mugs of coffee in hand, his hair still ruffled by sleep. 

“Mornin’, lass. Didnae mean tae wake ye.” He said softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he set one mug down on your bedside table before sliding into his side of the bed. “Did ye sleep okay?” 

“Not really.” You told him honestly, but he seemed to expect that, already looking down at you fondly. Throwing an arm around your shoulders, he pulled your head down to rest against his bare chest. The soft hair tickled your nose slightly, but you buried your face into the firm chest, relishing in the warmth he provided. 

“My poor sweet girl. Not tae worry, ye can rest on me.” He kissed you again, running his hand up and down your back tenderly. You furrowed your brows, still slightly put off from the events of last night, but you couldn’t deny the way your heart thumped happily when things were easy like this. 

Keeping your mouth shut, you rested against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Reaching over to his side, he picked up a journal and flicked it open to a new page. 

“What’s this?”

“A journal.” His blunt tone broke into a soft laugh as you smacked his chest in annoyance. “Something I started a while back. Just tae note down a lot of things. Mission plans and such.”

He flicked a few pages back, showing you maps, lists, and sketches of various things he’d clearly come across while deployed. 

“You can draw?” He hummed, flicking a few more pages back until he found the one he wanted. Letting out a soft gasp, you pushed yourself up, looking down at your own face sketched into his journal countless times, each one displaying a different emotion. 

“Had tae draw most of ye from memory. Did that a few months ago on a few lonely nights when I was missing ye, and wasnae sure if I was gonna make it back.” Unable to take your eyes off the pages, you reached out to tenderly trace the lines, admiring every piece of artwork he’d created. In the corner of the page, he’d written one word: mine. 

“They’re amazing, John. I didn’t know you could do this.” The corners of his mouth twitched upwards and he lifted his hand to cup your cheek. 

“I dinnae like showing it tae people. It’s… private.” There was an edge of reluctance to his voice, but his eyes were focused on yours, as though conveying a secret. Biting the inside of your cheek, you knew exactly what he was telling you, and it sent shivers down your body. 

“Thank you for trusting me.” 

“What kind of man would I be if I didnae trust my girl?” Tapping your chin with the tip of his pen, he flicked back to an empty page and began to write. 

The moment between you was sweet and domestic as he wrote in his journal, allowing you to read the entry as you curled into his side. That act alone eased the feeling in your chest, that he trusted you, and wanted you by his side. You didn’t want to ruin the moment, but you still wanted to face what had passed. 

“Why didn’t you talk to me last night, John?”  His breathing didn’t even stutter as he continued to write. 

“This mission was rough, darling. We— I lost a lot of good men because of a decision I had tae make.” The stubble on his jaw scratched against your forehead as he leaned his head down. “I needed tae take my mind off it.” 

Cupping the back of your head, his fingers threaded into your hair, holding you close to him. He breathed deeply, inhaling the calming scent of your shampoo. 

“Still, it would have been nice to just… know. I know you can’t tell me everything, but I’m not stupid, John. I want to be here for you.” Your hands curled around him, holding him close. 

“I dinnae deserve ye, lassie.” He murmured into your hair. “Yer far too good fer me. Deserve so much better than me.” 

“I want you, John. And you can’t change that. Just… if you’ve had a rough time, I need you to tell me. Sex can always be on the table, but I need you to talk to me first.” 

The blue of his eyes was wide as he stared down at you, breathing slowly before nodding. 

“Aye. I can dae that fer ye, darling.” Smiling happily, you lifted your head up to press your lips against his. He sighed into the kiss, lips slowly moving against yours as you tasted the coffee lingering on his tongue. The pair of you kissed languidly for quite some time, letting the minutes tick by as you found yourself lost in him. 

“Yer mine, right doll?” He asked between kisses, his hands gently caressing the back of your neck as he continued to slide his lips against yours. 

“Always, John.” 

“Good girl.”

•••

“I’d like tae take ye somewhere I used tae go as a wee yin.” He’d said one night as you lay, cuddled together on your sofa watching a movie. It had taken a couple of seconds for you to register the words, slowly turning your head to look up at him. 

“Somewhere in Scotland?” 

“Aye. I wanna show ye my home.” He murmurs, hand mindlessly drawing shapes on your back as he remains focused on the television. “Well, nae my home town but somewhere nice. We can get away, ye ken?”

“That sounds lovely.” Humming happily, you curled into his side, indulging in the firm stability his body provided. He made a noise of satisfaction, glancing down at you with a warm smile that crinkled the skin around his eyes. 

“Higher ups are pushin’ me tae take leave, so we can make a week of it, maybe a bit more. And dinnae fash yer wee head about plannin’ things, I’ll sort it out. Wanna treat my girl fer being so good tae me.” A warm buzzing filled your chest, and you felt your cheeks heat with pride. Though he never said those three little words you craved, his actions displayed more love and care that you’d received from any of your previous partners. The gifts he brought back from deployment, the nights he took you out for a nice meal, the way he worked to fix the issues that you’d been having in your flat, including the heater that your landlord had considered a ‘waste of his time and resources’. Though he never said that he loved you, he made you feel loved. 

In return, you tried to give back as much as he gave you. Cooking for him, treating him when he’d had a rough deployment, taking note of the things he enjoyed and making sure he had access to them in your home, loving him every way you knew how to. Now, with him planning a trip away like this, to his homeland no less, it felt like things were finally falling into place.

True to his word, John planned everything, keeping his cards close to his chest, only letting you know the dates of your departure and arrival back home so you could book off work. Sometimes you tried to take a snoop over his shoulder to get a glimpse of your destination, but you were always met with a playful admonishment and a tap on the nose. 

“Did no one teach ye patience, hen?” He scolded, but a wry grin spread over his face as he pulled you close. “Ye cannae wait a wee bit more?”

“I’m just excited. I haven’t gone away in so long. And you know I hate surprises.” Hoping to change his mind, you stuck out your bottom lip in a pout, and he chuckled. 

“I know we’ll have fun, darlin’. Just be patient. It’ll be worth it, I promise.” He ran a thumb over your bottom lip that was jutting out, pulling it down slightly before pressing his lips against yours. Meeting him eagerly, you wrapped an arm around his neck and he pulled you into his lap, cupping the back of your head to hold you to him. As most of his kisses did, it turned heated rather quickly, sending shivers down your spine as his hands groped at your body hungrily and his tongue pressed into your mouth. 

Sighing softly, you scraped your nails over the freshly buzzed sides of his hair that you’d done for him hours before, earning you a deep groan from him. He pulled back, breaking the kiss far too soon for your liking and stared deep into your eyes. 

“Fuck, lass. Ye know exactly how tae get me going.”

“You’re just easy.” A teasing smile graced your lips as you bit your lip. John let out an amused snort before fixing his hands around your waist and spinning you around so your back was on the sofa. The sudden movement surprised you, causing your breath to hitch and your hands to grip his shoulders.

“Bold words from the bonnie lass that cannae help but spread her legs fer me whenever I kiss her.” Whining out his name, you try to shove him back by his chest, much to his delight. Taking that as an invitation, he grabs your wrists, holding them together above your head. “When are ye gonna learn that ye cannae beat me, lass? I’ve got ye pinned.”

“Is this the real reason you’re taking me on a holiday?” You asked in jest. “So you can kiss me and tease me and bed me whenever you bloody well please?”

“I wouldnae say no tae that. And neither would you, given the way ye screamed my name last night as ye came ‘round my cock. Left scratches down my back and all.” His grin was cocky, brow raised as he stared down at you, beating you at your own game. Your face heated once more and you turned your head away from him with another pout. “Och, c’mon lassie. Ye ken I’m teasin’ ye.” 

Releasing your wrists, his hands returned to your sides and his mouth descended to your chest, nipping his way along your collarbones. Suppressing a moan, you ran your own hands up his back as your legs wrapped around his waist. The movement made him chuckle into your chest, lifting his head to cock his brow arrogantly. 

“Shut up.” You groused, pushing him lightly once more. 

“Tae answer yer question, umnae takin’ ye just tae bed ye, hen. I want us tae spend time together in my home country. Just us.” His rough hand gently cupped your cheek, thumb stroking over your cheekbone as he stared deep into your eyes. “But umnae gonna complain if we do.”

“You’d better not.” The snide reply was quickly drowned by giggles as he tickled up your sides. Tears of laughter pricked into the corners of your eyes as you tried to shove him away, but as always, his body was an immovable force. But he relented, resting his hands on the curve of your hips as he grinned above you. 

“Darlin’, I’m never gonna complain about being able tae be wit ye. Fuck, I’m the luckiest man alive.” No matter how hard you bit your lip, you couldn’t stop the smile from spreading wide across your face as you stared into his bright blue eyes. He made you happy, so incredibly happy, and you wouldn’t change it for the world. 

•••

Inverness was absolutely breathtaking, and quickly became one of your favourite places in the world. John had taken great care showing you around the unofficial highland capital, acting as your tour guide as he showed you around the highlands with pride. You couldn’t help but stare up at him in adoration as he spoke endlessly about the history of the town and surrounding areas, telling you old folk tales and legends. 

He’d taken you to Loch Ness and the castle overlooking the giant lake, telling you ghost stories about the Loch Ness Monster, and all those that she had taken to lie with her in the depths. You laughed at his stories as he held you by the lake, pouring you wine and kissing your neck. 

“I wouldnae let her take ye, doll.” He whispered against your neck, his fingers tracing along the hem of your shirt. “No one will take my girl from me, not even an old monster. Yer mine.” Laughing softly, you cupped the back of his neck, burying yourself into his warm embrace, the chilly wind nipping at your body. 

“You’d better not. I’d hate to live the rest of my life at the bottom of a lake. And without you, of course.” He made a noise of contentment, wrapping the plaid blanket further around the pair of you, holding you close under the fading light of the setting sun. You could easily feel the steady beating of his heart with how close he was, a complete contrast to your rapidly beating one. 

The pair of you headed back to the car once the sun had dipped below the horizon, the wind picking up and blowing your hair wildly around you. Lacing your fingers through his didn’t do much to stop the other hand that kept wandering down your body, groping you teasingly. Once you got to the car, John pushed you against the cool metal pressing his lips to yours for a moment before opening the door and climbing into the back seat with you. He took you right there, hips bucking up into yours as you rode him, panting, and fogging up the windows, not caring who saw, easily bringing you to your peak like he had so many times before.

During your trip, Inverness’ monthly farmer’s market was on, allowing the two of you to peruse the local hand-made goods. John kept a close eye on everything you took an interest in, telling you that if you wanted it, he’d buy it for you. Of course, you initially refused, but John was stubborn and soon enough, his arms were full of things you’d taken a liking to. 

“You didn’t have to! You’re the one that’s paying for so much of this trip. I feel bad.” You told him as you sat down for lunch in a local pub. A lively folk band was playing music, but you and John were tucked in a booth in the corner, far enough away that you didn’t have to strain your voices over the instruments. Waving a hand in dismissal, John shook his head at your words. 

“Pay it no mind, doll. I like buyin’ things fer ye. Seeing that bonnie smile on yer face makes it worth it.” Your face immediately broke into a shy grin and you glanced away from him, nudging his shin with your foot.

“Still, I don’t know how I can repay you.” Setting his drink down with a soft sigh, he reached out to take your hand, thumb tracing over yours as he stared kindly at you. 

“You bein’ here wit me is payment enough, darlin’.” His eyes were warm, making your heart hammer in excitement, your head feeling giddy with happiness. Raising your glass, you clinked it against his, hooking your ankles with his under the table, causing him to smile coyly at your playfulness. “Though maybe if ye keep that up, I’ll be seekin’ payment in other ways.”

“You’ll get us kicked out of here.” You scolded him, immediately catching his implication. The smile on his face only spread, eyes glittering roguishly.

“It wouldnae be me causing us tae get kicked out, doll. It’d be you and yer inability to keep yer mouth shut and voice down when I’m inside ye.” That comment earned him a swift kick to the shins under the table, making him grunt out a low curse. 

The cottage he’d rented for your stay was quaint and old-fashioned, a short drive out of the main town, located on a farmer’s property. The couple who owned the farm were older, but incredibly sweet, making themselves available for anything you or John needed during your stay. The lady of the house always seemed to have a twinkle in her eye whenever she looked at the pair of you.

“Is this a special trip fer the two of ye?” She’d asked one morning as you joined her in feeding the chickens. 

“Not particularly. Just a nice getaway for the two of us. He’s quite a busy man.” You replied over your shoulder as you moved to collect the eggs for her.

“Och, I dinnae think so, lassie. Ye should see the way the lad looks at ye when yer not payin’ attention. If I wasnae mistaken, I’d say he looks ready tae get on his knees fer ye.” There was that gleam again in her eye as she spoke, and you felt the tips of your ears heating at her implication. 

“No, not yet. We’re…” Trailing off, your brows furrowed as you thought about how to label your relationship. John had always turned the conversation around if you’d even attempted to approach the subject, or given you a vague answer. Then, he did things like this, romantic things that made you crave more and left you more confused than ever about his intentions. “It’s complicated.” You finished off your sentence cryptically. 

“Aye, a lot of the good relationships are. Pay it no mind. Lads that have seen many horrors tend tae take a wee while tae come ‘round. My husband was the same. Took him nigh on 6 winters to propose. Certainly wasnae the way things were done in my day. But I loved him, and I ken he loved me. I reckon yer laddie’s much the same.” Fluffing her apron, she grabbed the now empty basket of feed and began walking back to the main house with you in tow. 

Her words ran through your head for the rest of the day as you spent time with John. He knew something was on your mind, but he didn’t address it until later at night when the pair of you were indulging in a glass of wine in the hot tub that overlooked the rolling hills of the farm.

“What’s been on yer mind today, hen?” Reaching out, he pulled you onto his lap. Having the small cottage to yourself, the pair of you had foregone clothes, leaving his hands free to roam your bare body under the warm water without restriction as he waited for you to speak.

“Just Mrs Fraser being her usual self.” Keeping your tone casual, you attempted to brush off his question, but his large hand squeezed your waist, signalling you to continue. “She was commenting on you, and how you look at me. How we remind her of her and her husband when they were younger.”

“How so?” His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but he kept his tone light, matching yours.

“She could tell you’ve been through things. Said her husband was similar and that it took him a while longer than she expected for the relationship to progress, and she was assuming you were the same.” His hand squeezed your waist again, more firmly this time, conveying his discomfort, making your heart sink. 

“And what did ye tell her?” 

“Well there isn’t much to tell her, is there?” You tried to keep your tone neutral, but it came out slightly harsher than you’d meant, evident by the way John’s body grew rigid. The man sighed, tilting his head down to rest on your shoulder. 

“Darlin’, please, dinnae think that I like keeping ye out. I care fer ye, deeply. Christ, I’ve taken ye here, tae my home, what more do ye want?” 

“I know it takes time,” you said patiently, having taken a breath to calm yourself down, “and I appreciate everything that we’ve done together, but sometimes I wish I could have more of you. There are parts of you that are just… untouchable.” Placing a hand over his heart, you smiled at him softly, wriggling closer to his body for warmth as the wind picked up. 

“There are parts of me I’d never want ye tae see, sweetheart.” His voice was barely above a whisper, eyes sad as he lifted a hand up to cup your cheek, thumb tracing along the skin. 

“Why?”

“Please, dinnae ask that.” His voice cracked and he pulled your forehead closer to rest against his. Fingertips gripped the back of your neck as he breathed shakily, squeezing his eyes closed. Sensing something was eating at him, you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him close, tucking your chin on top of his head. And once again, that was the end of that discussion. 

He didn’t bed you that night, instead choosing to hold you tightly, pressed against his chest for comfort. Whenever you tried to roll away, he grunted in protest, pulling you back against him and pushing his face into the crook of your neck. Eventually, you relented, allowing him to pull you closer and keep you locked against his body. Reaching down, you laced your fingers through his, and he hummed in approval, finally content that he was getting his way. 

Words that Mrs Fraser had said earlier though rang in your mind, making it difficult to sleep. But I loved him, and I ken he loved me. To be perfectly honest, you weren’t entirely sure if John did actually love you. Sure, he made you feel loved, but he’d always kept his emotions close to his chest. Snorting in his sleep, John moved, grunting as he held you close. Maybe you could wait a little longer to make things official, if this was how it felt to be with him in the meantime. 

The local pub was hosting a well-known cèilidh band on the last night of your stay. The excitement in the town was palpable leading up to the event, and even John had a smile on his face as he spoke to you about it. 

“I’m gonna put ye in mah clan colours and everything, lassie,” he boasted, “ye gonna have the time of ye life.” It was impossible to not get swept up in it all. There was a knock at the cottage door and you opened it, revealing Mrs Fraser with a bundle of red tartan. John let out a noise of thanks as he stepped behind you. 

“I’ll thank ye fer that, Mrs Fraser.” The smile on his face seemed to spread from ear to ear as he took the plaid from the older lady. 

“Ye need naw thank me, lad. T’was an easy find.” She then turned her attention to you. “Is it yer first cèilidh?” Nodding, you looked between John and Mrs Fraser, both of them beaming. “Yer gonna have a grand old time. Just remember tae wear sensible shoes, or better yet, go wi’out. The last thing ye want tae do is be the first lassie tae sit down complaining of sore feet.”

“I’ll make sure to remember that.” 

“And no doubt the wee lad will teach ye the basics. But dinnae worry about makin’ a wrong step. Ye’ll be welcome all the same.” Mrs Fraser dusted off her apron for a moment, sending a cloud of flour into the air. “If ye need me, I’ll be in my kitchen. I’m helpin’ the barkeep with catering.” And then she was off. 

John angled his head, looking down at you, his eyes alight with boyish mischief. Wrapping a hand around you, he pulled the pair of you inside the cottage and shut the door. He strode with purpose towards the table, spreading the tartan material out before turning around to face you, chest puffing. 

“It’s the MacTavish clan colours.” He announced proudly. “What dae ye think?” Stepping forward, you reached out to finger the fabric. It was a deep, rich red; one that would definitely compliment the blue of his eyes. 

“It’s beautiful.” You said honestly and he hummed in approval, sliding his hands around your waist to hug you from behind. Pressing his face into your neck, he kissed along the skin as his hands travelled up to cup your breasts. 

“Just like you. And yer gonna look perfect in it.” He repeated, moving his body side to side, continuing the slow tune as his hands continued to roam. 

“You really know how to dance?”

“Aye, I ken my way around the dances. If not, I’ll just improvise. It’s all about the atmosphere. Now, get dressed, or we’re not gonna make it in time.” 

The pair of you almost didn’t make it in time for the opening song. The band was poised and ready to start when you slipped your way in, hair a little more mussed than you would have liked, because when you’d come out wearing the tartan sash, John had all but lost control, and bent you over the cottage table as he lifted his kilt up to take you then and there. His face was glowing as he pulled you into his side, listening to the jolly tune of the music begin to fill the room. 

“Ye ready, hen?” Biting your lip nervously, you gave him a half shrug, and he let out a dismissive noise. “Ye’ll be fine. Nothin’ tae it. Just have fun wit me, aye?” 

You found yourself drawn into his bright eyes, full of excitement as he tilted his head, tugging at your waist. With little resistance he pulled you into the throng of people. Taking firm hold of you with one hand, and clasping yours in his other, John began to lead you through the dances. They were fairly simple, steps all in time with the rhythmic beat, and soon enough, you found yourself lost in the music. 

There was little reprieve between songs, with the next starting up almost immediately after the former had finished, but you found yourself so captivated by your dance partner that you felt little need to rest. He had you twirling, and stepping, and spinning for what felt like hours on end, each dance different than the last. 

Face spread wide into a grin the whole time, you stared up into his equally joyful one; smile lines and crow’s feet prominent as he laughed, and you wouldn’t change it for the world. Sweat beaded on your brow and you felt your lungs heaving from effort, but you continued to follow John’s lead, allowing him to pull you around the dance floor in a series of steps until the music swelled and with a final step, he pulled you tight against him and the musicians stopped playing, the room instead filled with copious cheers and applauses for the band. 

You, instead of clapping along with the crowd, were completely captivated by the man in front of you. His face was flushed red, sweat causing the tips of his mohawk to stick to his forehead. His chest was heaving as he panted, but he kept you locked against him as he stared down at you with an elated smile. 

“Ye never told me ye could dance like that, lassie.” He said breathlessly, finally breaking the spell between you and pulling you off to the bar to get some water. 

“Neither did you!” You responded, equally as tired. Handing you a glass first, you thanked him and immediately brought the cup to your lips, draining the glass and refilling it once more. 

“Reckon ye could go another round?” His voice was casual, but you could hear the slight upward lilt to his question, as if he were hoping you’d say yes. Smiling widely, you hooked your arm around his, setting the glass aside.

“For you? Anything.” His eyes crinkled with happiness and he leaned in to press a soft peck to your lips before pulling you back onto the dance floor. 

You weren’t sure how long you’d been in that pub for, nor how long you’d been dancing, but the air slowly became stifling the longer you danced. When the band finally bid their farewells for the night, you and John stepped outside, breathing in lungfuls of the cool night air. 

“That was amazing.” Tilting your head up to lean against his shoulder, you grinned up at him as he threw an arm around you, pulling you into his side as you walked through the empty streets. 

“I’m glad ye enjoyed it. It's been a while since I took any time tae myself.” Sighing heavily, he tilted his head up to look at the sky. “I’ve missed bein’ home.” 

“Thank you for bringing me here, John,” Halting your movements, you wrapped your arms around his neck before pulling him into a soft kiss which he eagerly returned, hands clutching at your waist. “I’ve had the most wonderful time with you.” 

The car ride back was quiet, but not tense as he held your hand, fingers intertwined together. He glanced over at you every so often, the corner of his mouth lifting up. Pulling up at the small cottage one final time, you looked at it wistfully. 

“Time’s really flown by. I almost don’t want to go back.” 

“Then we’d best make a night of it. What do ye say, lassie?” He grinned, stepping out of the car and walking over to your side to open the door for you as rain began to fall. Ushering you towards the cottage, he pushed the door open, but was stopped by your hand grabbing his shirt. Making a noise of confusion, he looked over his shoulder to see you looking out at the falling rain. Turning back, with a glint in your eye, you motioned with you head. 

“Dance with me again?” 

“Ye wanna dance in the rain?” Chuckling, John shook his head, raising an eyebrow dubiously, but you persisted. 

“Please? I know it’s cliche but let me have this. Come on, John!” Sticking out your bottom lip in a pout, you could see the exact moment when John caved. Eyes closing, he grinned broadly before taking your hand and pulled you out underneath the cloudy sky. 

Shrieking at the initial feeling of the cool water droplets on your skin, it was soon forgotten as he once more began to lead you in a dance of his own choosing. Laughing and twirling, you spun around with him, skirt and kilt flapping in the wind alike. The pair of you danced until you felt the material of your dress sticking to your skin and his hair was plastered to his scalp. Your lips were spread wide in a grin as you looped your arms around his neck, staring into his eyes and you realised that you couldn’t be happier. That this, that he, was what you wanted. 

“I think… I think I’m falling in love with you, John.” Your voice was barely audible as you blinked up at him, wet lashes clinging together. His brows pinched slightly in confusion. 

“What d’ye mean, darlin?”

“I love you, John. Truly. I love you.” The soft sway he’d been leading you through halted as he looked down at you. His eyes grew wide as he glanced between yours, taking in your expression, and realising just how serious you were, he swallowed audibly. 

“Ye cannae mean that.” He whispered just as softly as he looked deep into your eyes, a gentle hand pushing the hair off your forehead. 

“I’m serious. I know you have your reservations about us, but I can’t stop thinking about it. I want this, it feels right. We feel right.” You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, terrified as to what he would say. The hands behind his neck were clasped tightly, nails digging into your palms as you tried to keep yourself distracted from the lengthy periods of silence. 

His eyes were wet, from tears or rain you weren’t sure, and his breathing was ragged. Sliding a hand up to cup the back of your head, he leaned in to press his forehead against yours. 

“Ye should leave me. Run far from me.” He said, but his actions were in direct opposition to his words. He clung to you, one hand on your waist as his fingers gripped you tightly. 

“You keep saying that. But you’ve done nothing to hurt me, John. Everything you do is to protect me.” 

“S’why I’m tryin’ tae protect ye now, lassie.”

“You come back from your trips and you stay in my house. You take the time out of your day to visit me at work and walk me to my car. You fix things around my house without question. Whoever you are to the rest of the world, you’re different with me. I want this. I want you.”

The pained expression on his face made your stomach lurch, making you nauseous and you begun to second guess yourself and his intentions. 

“I just dinnae want ye tae regret choosing someone like me.”

“I could never regret choosing someone like you.” Cupping his cheek, you watch his eyes shut and he lets out a breathy chuckle, as if he knew a secret you didn’t

“Dae ye trust me, darlin?”

“With all my heart.”

“Then say it again tae me.”

“I love you.” 

“Again.” His hands clutch at your sides, pinning you to him, not caring about your drenched clothes as he buries his face in your neck. 

“I love you, John.” 

“Jesus, lassie… yer gonna ruin me.”

“Is that a bad thing?” You couldn’t help the grin that was spreading back over your face and then finally, John stood up tall, eyes staring down at you as he cupped your cheeks in his cold hands. 

“Ye mean more tae me than I can put into words.” He whispered solemnly. “I cannae promise ye much, but I do promise that ye have my heart. Ye always have, and ye always will.” 

Surging forward, he pressed his lips against yours. His mouth was demanding and possessive as his grip tightened around you, holding your body against his, as if he were afraid to lose you. It was rough and eager, cold lips sliding against yours as he pulled you towards the cottage. Fumbling at the front door for a moment, he pushed it open and without breaking the kiss, pulled you inside and pressed you against the wall as he slammed the door shut. His hands were greedy, roaming down your body and tugging at the dress you wore, peeling it off your body.

Steering you deeper into the house, you found that Mr Fraser, bless his soul, had lit a fire in the grate for the pair of you. The warmth of it was already spreading comfortingly through the air, drying your damp skin. John made quick work of your clothes, pulling them off and tossing them aside with little regard for where they landed and he did the same with his own, only breaking the kiss once to tug his shirt over his head. 

His lips weren’t gone from yours long, immediately re-attaching as his calloused hands slid up the contours of your body, taking in every inch of you with gentle attentiveness.

“Sue me fer bein’ cliche,'' He groaned between kisses as he continued to push you into the main area of the cottage, “but I wanna have ye by the fire.” Grinning into the kiss, you nodded, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck to hold him to you. He grabbed a blanket and pillow from the couch as you passed, nudging you towards the fireplace. 

He broke the kiss, and you whined in displeasure, but soon choked out a soft moan instead as his mouth trailed wet kisses down your body. Kneeling down in front of you, his hands grabbed your ass as his mouth continued downwards, nipping over your hips and thighs. 

“Fuckin’ gorgeous. So fuckin’ gorgeous. And yer mine, all fuckin’ mine.” He groaned pathetically, head resting on your hip as he panted, breath fanning over your skin. Running a hand through his cropped hair, you tilted his head up to meet his eyes. His brows were pinched together, mouth parted as the scruff of his stubble grazed your skin. 

“I love you.” John groaned again, eyes fluttering shut, his lashes casting shadows over his cheeks. 

“Fuck me, I’ll never be sick of ye sayin’ that tae me.” His breath tickled your skin as he lightly dragged his teeth over the skin of your stomach, his hands sliding up the curve of your ass. “Please, I need ye, doll.” 

His voice was strained, desperate as he blinked up at you, hands tugging you down until you were spread over the plush rug. John hooked your legs around his hips, placed the pillow underneath, and leaned in to capture your lips once again. You could feel his hard, leaking cock pressing against the inside of your thigh as he groaned throatily. 

Tucking his face into your neck, he sucked claiming marks onto your skin, working his way down to your breasts. Cupping them in his hands, he paid careful attention to both, splitting his time evenly as he dragged his tongue over and sucked at your nipples. Whining softly, you arched your back, pressing yourself into his hands, wanting more, but he was content on taking his time. 

“Just let me worship ye, darlin’. Yer worth it, every fuckin’ moment of it.” Moving down, he trailed his hands up the backs of your thighs, holding your legs apart so he could lower his face between your legs. 

Unable to stifle your noises, you moaned in ecstasy as he sealed his mouth over your clit, tongue flicking over the sensitive nerves as he sucked intently. Glancing down, your heart leaped as you saw his eyes staring straight at your pleasure filled face. 

Reaching a hand down, his fingers slid between your already soaked folds, pressing his thick digits deep into you. The pair of you moaned in unison, you at the stretch and him and the feeling of your walls clenching around him. The light of the fire cast a golden glow over the pair of you, heating you from the outside even as John’s actions made your hair stand on end. 

“That’s it, mah bonnie hen. Take it. Take everything ye need from me.” Curling his fingers and brushing against that sweet spot deep inside you, John continued to stimulate you, focusing all his attention on your release. The slick sound of his fingers entering you mixed with your soft noises and the crackles of the fire made your head spin as he cooed appraising words. 

“So good fer me. So fuckin’ good. Can feel how wet ye are, how badly ye want this. God ye look so fuckin’ bonnie like this.” Feeling you clench around his fingers again, he doubled his efforts, grunting as he buried his face into your cunt. 

Gasping, your breathing turned ragged as you carded your hands through the strands of his hair, toes curling as you felt the familiar coil in your gut. 

“John!” Your voice was desperate and needy and you canted your hips up, chasing the heavenly feeling of his mouth against you. He hummed, sending vibrations through your core, making you shiver. Not letting up, John continued to suck on your clit and kept his fingers deep in your cunt, the stubble on his face burning your inner thighs pleasurably. 

You could feel your body heating up quickly, a mix of the roaring fire nearby and the way John so attentively brought you closer. Placing one of his large hands on your stomach, you glanced down to look into his eyes once more. His eyes were wide and desperate, pleading with you as his tongue continued to flick and swirl exactly how you liked it. 

Unable to hold on anymore, your body jerked as you cried out, one hand pinned to his hair and the other grasping at the rug below you. John didn’t let up until your body stopped shaking, and when he pulled away, you could see the glint of your wetness covering his chin in the firelight as he stared down at you with a wolfish grin. 

“I’ll never get over how ye taste either.” He growled, eyes dark with lust as he crawled his way up your body. Hitching your legs over his hips, he dragged his leaking cock up your slit, cursing under his breath at the feeling. Resting his forehead against yours, he sunk into you easily, the pair of you moaning in sync at the feeling. 

His breathing was shaky as his hips thrust forward into yours, slowly working up a rhythm that had you curling your toes and clutching at his strong arms. 

“Just— fuck— lemme have ye,” Lowering his face, mouth against your ear, you could hear every moan and grunt that left his lips as he continued to rut into you leisurely, “I need ye so fuckin’ badly. Ye feel heavenly wrapped around me like this.” 

His breathing turned ragged the longer he fucked you. He never tired and never slowed down as though thrusting into you was keeping him alive. A hand threaded through your hair at the crown of your head, clutching tightly and keeping your head still as the pace began to increase. The coarse hair at the base of his cock rubbing pleasurably against your clit with every stroke, feeding your need for him further. 

“You have me, you’ve always had me.” You whispered into his ear, pressing your body up against his, a thin sheen of sweat causing your bodies to slide against each other. Every thrust of his cock was slippery, meeting no resistance as he continued to grunt and moan next to your ear. 

Everything was hot; the air, the fire, his body, his breath panting against your neck, and the familiar heat once more curling inside you. He was rambling now, making nonsensical noises as he continued to pump his hips. You could feel your head spinning, losing your sense of self the longer he was inside you. Running your hands along his arms and locking your legs around his hips, you moaned encouragingly, close to finding your release. 

“Together. Please— fuck— I need tae feel ye come ‘round me as I fill ye.” He groaned, the hand that was still in your hair clutching tightly, but not painfully as his other hand wrapped around your thigh, keeping you pinned to him. “Please, love. Please.” 

Hearing the term of endearment sent jolts down your spine, and you bucked your hips up to meet his, the stimulation becoming too overwhelming. Gripping onto him tightly, you cried out, walls squeezing and fluttering tightly around his cock. John choked out a low sound, nails digging into the skin of your thigh as his pace stuttered and he quickly followed suit, spilling himself deep into you. 

Panting heavily, John’s heavy body remained tightly pressed against yours, not wanting to pull back just yet. You weren’t complaining, especially as you kept your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, making his cock twitch mildly even as it flagged inside of you. 

“Say it.” His voice was hoarse as he breathed, the side of his head resting against yours. 

“I love you.” You repeated again, much to his delight. Pushing himself up, he stared down at you, his eyes soft and appraising as his large hands ran down your front appreciatively. 

“I dinnae deserve ye. But I’m selfish, and I willnae let ye go.” The words were barely audible, but they made your heart thump happily nonetheless. Feeling tears of happiness prick into your eyes, you sniffed, legs still wrapped around him tightly. 

After spending what felt like hours kissing, still intimately connected in front of the fire, John finally carried you to the bedroom where he once again worshipped you over and over again. The moments felt like bliss as you kept confessing, and he kept taking and taking. It was hours later when the pair of you finally drifted off, worn out and tightly wrapped around each other, sleeping peacefully. Finally, you thought, things were finally how they should be. 

•••

The trip home was pleasant, albeit sad as you mourned the honeymoon-esque time you’d had away with John. His hand rested comfortably over your knee, thumb caressing your soft skin every so often. Glancing over to you occasionally, he met your eyes, the corner of his lips pulling upwards into a smirk. It wasn’t long before your street came into view, and John pulled up outside your flat. 

He insisted on carrying the bags inside, refusing to accept your help as he lugged them up the stairs. Opening the door for him, he pushed inside and placed the bags down. 

“Home, sweet home.” He sighed, sprawling down onto the couch with his arm and legs open wide. Grinning, you slid into his arms, allowing them to wrap tightly around you as you lay against his chest, humming softly. 

“Thank you, John. For everything. That was amazing.” 

“Aye, it was,” He whispered, running a hand through your hair, scratching your scalp lightly. “Woulda given anythin’ tae stay there longer.” His voice sounded almost remorseful. 

“We should do it. Leave our jobs and buy a farm in Scotland. Can have cows and chickens, grow old together like the Fraser’s.” The smile spread wider on your lips as the words came out, mostly said in jest, but a lingering want was still settling deep in your heart. 

You hadn’t really spoken about your confession since the previous night, but you could tell things had changed between you and John. Though the car ride back had been mostly silent, he’d kept a hand on you the entire time, as though making sure you were still there. There had been a shift between the pair of you, and despite John still not being completely open with his feelings, the way he looked at you now made up for everything. 

He cupped your cheek, looking down at you fondly as you lay on him. His lips were pulled up in a soft smile as his calloused thumb brushed the skin under your eye.

“Say it.” His voice was barely audible, as though he was terrified to even utter the words. 

“I love you.” The hand that was wrapped around your shoulders squeezed you tightly, his eyes brimming with emotion

“I dinnae think I deserve yer love, but I’m gonna take everythin’ yer willing tae give me.” Pulling you closer, he rested his forehead on yours, breathing deeply. “My girl.” 

His hands moved, sliding down your body to grip your ass, pulling your hips firmly against his. Nosing your head up, he sought out your lips, leaning in for a deep kiss to make the moment even sweeter. 

Running your palms up his chest, you gripped the soft fabric of his shirt, knees coming up on either side of his hips so you could position yourself more comfortably. Your teeth tugged on his lip, sucking it into your mouth and making him groan throatily.  His lips moved against yours with an increased fervour, tongue pressing against the seam of your lips to slide into your mouth as you sighed. 

With the kiss deepening, his hands roamed further, moving underneath your shirt to press against your body. Bending his knees, he shifted his hips, bucking you slightly so you could feel the press of his rapidly thickening erection, making you smile into the kiss. 

“Already needy, John?” You teased, pulling back and kissing along his jawline. His lips were red and swollen as his eyes fluttered, rolling as you ground yourself on top of him.

“Always fucking needy for ye, lassie.” He panted, turning his head to try and reconnect your lips when he was interrupted by a phone ringing. His work phone. 

The sound had always made your heart sink, because it was usually followed by him leaving suddenly. Normally, he answered it without much complaint, holding you close for a brief moment and telling you that he’d be back before you knew it. This time, his hands gripped your hips tightly, brows drawn together as he stared blankly in the direction of the phone, before shaking his head. 

“No. They can fuckin’ wait. Yer more important right now.” The words made your eyes widen, mouth opening in shock, but you didn’t have long to process what it meant before he restarted the kiss. Threading a hand in your hair, he held you close, making sure you couldn’t even pull away. Your heart leapt. 

The happiness didn’t last long, however, as the phone rang twice more. It was on the fourth ring that John let out a frustrated growl, pushing to sit up and reaching for the damned mobile. Answering it, he pressed it to his ear. 

“Ye’d better have a good fucking reason fer callin’.” He grit out. The tone of his voice made you shiver, recalling that night a few months ago where he’d first been really rough with you, and found yourself not being envious of the person on the other end. 

The hope of getting back to what you were doing before the call faded as you saw the shift in John’s expression, his brows now pinched in worry. He glanced at you apologetically, but you’d already resigned your fate, reaching over to squeeze his wrist affectionately before letting him go. Standing up, John spoke in a hushed tone as he walked into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. 

Sighing, you leaned back against the couch, staring at your bedroom door, wishing he’d walk out and say everything was fine and they didn’t need him, but the chances of that were slim. They always needed Captain MacTavish. 

Sliding your hand into your pocket, you reached for your phone before realising it wasn’t there. Cursing, you searched your bag before remembering you’d placed it on charge during the drive home. Shaking your head in annoyance, you grabbed the keys to his car and headed downstairs. 

It was there in the cup holder, still plugged in. Removing the cable and wrapping it up, you opened the centre console to put it inside before something caught your eye. Frowning, you tilted your head, reaching down to pick up the small, black ring box. 

Surely not, you thought, surely he hadn’t already bought you a ring…

You debated for a split second, wondering if it was something you should put back, but you couldn’t help the excited feeling that was clawing its way into your chest. Pursing your lips, you opened the box. 

At the sight of the contents, you frowned. It was a men’s ring. Gold and clearly worn, given the many scratches and dulling of the metal, with what appeared to be engraving on the inside. Your breath hitched and, with a shaking hand, you picked up the piece of jewellery against your better judgement. 

JM + LM

10/10/2010

Gu sìorraidh is gu bràth

You froze, mouth turning dry as you stared at the carved letters on the inside of the ring. The thumping in your chest was growing louder and faster, and you could hear the blood rushing in your ears. Rationally, you tried to make yourself think of every single possibility you could to justify it. 

Licking your lips in an attempt  to wet them, but your tongue felt like sandpaper, breath ragged and loud. Shoving the ring back into the box as if it had burned you, the lid of the centre console slamming shut as you locked the car behind you. Leaning against the passenger side door, you could feel yourself struggling to breathe, your mind going cloudy as your eyes became unfocused. 

He was married. John was fucking married. 

No matter what far-fetched, imaginative thought you tried to conjure up to explain it, you knew, deep in your heart that none of them were true. The way he’d acted, being so avoidant of proclaiming love and affection, the way he’d called himself selfish, and that you should run away… he wasn’t wrong. He’d been telling you the truth this whole time in his own twisted, fucked up way. 

God you were so fucking blind and stupid to fall for all his sweet words. 

Curling your fingers into a fist and sucking in a deep breath, you pushed yourself off the car to move back towards your flat for the inevitable. As you stepped inside, John was stepping out of your bedroom, sighing and shaking his head. 

“Cannae do anything right wi’out me, honestly. It’s like I have tae fucking babysit them through every wee thing— ye awryt, lassie?” Frowning, John tilted his head, taking in your rigid posture and stony expression. He made a move to step towards you, but you quickly stepped back in response, holding up a hand. 

His mouth parted, but he remained silent, eyes tracing every feature of your face as though he was trying to read your mind. You hated the fact you could see the hurt in his expression and it almost made your next words falter. But you pushed through. 

“Are you married?” 

The slight widening of his eyes only appeared for a fraction of a second, but it was enough proof for you. Taking a step back from him, you let out a shaky breath, staring directly at him. 

“Are you fucking married, John?” Your voice was demanding now as you repeated the words, having found the groove and dug in. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, pursing his lips and blinking slowly to meet your hard gaze. 

“Hen, it’s not—”

“Just tell me the fucking truth. Are you married?” The emphasis you placed on the last three words was deafening, and you could see the cracks forming in his composure. His carefully calculated image was breaking before your eyes as he fought for control. 

“It’s nothing, she means nothing—”

“She’s your wife, John MacTavish.” 

“She’s not you.” The words were like a punch to your gut, making you shake your head at him, scoffing. 

“Yeah? Because I’m new? I’m young? I’m… fun? You needed to feel something else in your life because your marriage was getting stagnant? Wanted someone to make you feel loved, is that it?” 

“Don’t you be putting words in my mouth.” He snapped, eyes flashing darkly as he raised a finger towards you. You slapped the hand away. 

“Don’t you dare point your finger at me. How fucking dare you. Did you even care? Or was I just someone else you could come to and fuck when your wife wouldn’t?” Muscles twitched in his jaw as his eyes narrowed in fury. His fist clenched and unclenched as he breathed, staring at you unwaveringly. 

“Is that what ye want me tae say? That I was just using ye tae warm my cock?” His lip curled upwards as he sneered. “Yer more than that, and ye know it.” 

“So what was it, then?” You demanded, biting your tongue to distract you as tears threatened to fall. “She didn’t give you enough attention? Needed something new in your life?” 

“Stop! Just—” Sucking in a breath, John’s face relaxed a fraction as he stepped forward, his hands resting on your shoulders as he pushed you back against the wall. As much as you attempted to resist, you couldn’t break free so you tilted your head up and glared at him instead. “Are ye gonna let me talk?” 

“Why should I, John? You’re a married man, I’m a homewrecker. Tell me why you deserve to be listened to?” The fingers on your shoulders pressed a little harder into your skin as his eyes squeezed tightly in pain. 

“Yer not, lassie. Please, this is on me. I didnae explain it to ye properly.” 

“What is there to explain? You’re married, end of story!” 

“No, there’s more just, fuck, listen tae me.” He growled, pressing you against the wall, but you shoved him away, causing him to back up a few steps. 

“Does she even know?” You spat, your nose twitching in disgust. 

“Of course not. Not that it matters anyway.” He spat back with venom. “She’s a cheating whore—”

“And that justifies your actions?” Shaking your head, you pointed your finger at him, pacing back and forth. “No, you don’t get to play the sympathy card.” 

“What? Ye would have done the same thing if I told ye the story from the beginning anyway. I saw how ye looked at me.” 

“Don’t you dare put the blame on me!” You snapped at him, eyes blazing with fury. “I didn’t know and you hid it from me.” 

“I’m sorry, alright?” He gasped, voice strained as he took hold of your wrists and pulled you close. “I’m so fucking sorry. I should have told ye but I didnae ken how. Please, love, please.” 

“Are you really sorry? Because saying it and meaning it are two very different things.” The words were cold and without feeling as you stared blankly at the floor, already pulling your hands away. Letting out a strangled noise, he reached for your head, tilting it up to force your eyes to meet his.

“Don’t do this love, please. Listen tae me. Listen please.” His voice cracked as he begged, large hands cupping either side of your face. “Fuck, I didn’t mean for it tae be like this. Ye mean everything tae me.” 

“Not enough that you couldn’t be honest with me from the start because you knew it was wrong.” 

Despite how hurt you felt, watching his face crumple made your heart clench painfully. Shaking his head, John held you firmly, eyes starting into yours imploringly. 

“I should have told ye, I know I made mistakes, I know I wasnae honest but please, you have to listen—”

“No. I’ve had enough. Get out.” Pushing him away, you pointed towards the door. 

“But I—” 

“Get out, John!” You yelled, tears finally spilling down your cheeks. “Get the fuck out of my flat.” 

The hurt on his face was evident and he took a step forward to reach for you one final time, but you pulled back out of his reach. Shaking your head minutely, you shut your eyes, trying to level your breathing. 

“Just go.” 

You didn’t open your eyes to start sobbing until you heard the front door click shut. 

•••

Filling the hole in your heart that John left was excruciating. He’d dug himself into every aspect of your life, reminding you constantly of his presence at every turn of your head. One night in a drunken fit of rage, you’d collected all the belongings he’d left behind along with every gift he’d bought you, shoved them into a large rubbish bag and tossed it outside. The next morning, it was gone. Whether or not John had picked it up himself wasn’t your issue. 

Blocking his number was another task you’d struggled with. At first, you’d forgotten, but then after the first day apart, the barrage of texts came through 

-> Please let me explain

-> I’m sorry, lass, please

-> I swear I’ll tell you everything 

-> Don’t shut me out 

-> I can fix this, please let me fix this 

-> I can’t be without you 

-> Please don’t let it end like this 

-> I need you 

-> I love you 

The last message had been the final straw, leaving a foul taste in your mouth. He hadn’t bothered to say it in person, struggled to do so in fact, so over text the words felt meaningless. A desperate plea to win back your favour. 

He’d thankfully steered clear of your workplace so far. You’d used the opportunity to pick up extra shifts to keep yourself busy, allowing your mind to run on autopilot throughout the weeks. 

As if you couldn’t help it, your eyes tended to find their way over to the corner of the bar where John had always sat, bringing unwanted emotions to the surface once more. The stool was currently vacant, as was most of the bar since it was nearing closing time. Sighing heavily and murmuring a good night, the last patron left, and you locked the door behind him and sunk to the floor in tears again. 

This cycle repeated for a couple of months, drowning yourself in work, drink, or other distractions to keep your mind off of John and how much you missed him. Other soldiers came into the bar, but never him. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to see him again, how it would make you feel if he did turn up. 

Everything was cold and numb without him, but there was still the bitter taste of betrayal that lingered on your tongue. The fact that he’d been married and never said a word haunted your dreams, and you began to lose count of the times you’d woken up feeling the pain all over again. 

Leaving the bar later than usual, you took a longer route home, stopping to pick up some of your favourite takeaway food before heading back. Locking your car and walking up the stairs, your mind was preoccupied on thinking what show you were going to watch to decompress that you almost missed it. The smell of tobacco with a hint of scotch and coffee lingered around your front door, making you freeze. 

Your hand was shaking as you reached for the metal handle, twisting it to find it already unlocked. In the midst of everything, you’d forgotten that John had a key to your place this whole time. Blood began to pump faster, your ears ringing as your mouth became dry. Shaking your head to clear it, and swallowing, you pushed open the door. 

John was sitting on one of your dining table chairs looking like utter shit, for lack of better description. He was still wearing his filthy clothes, obviously having just come back from deployment, boots and all. His hair was slightly longer than you’d been used to, as was the stubble on his face. 

Perking up at the sound of the door, John lifted his head and turned around, eyes wide with shock. Seeing you, he held up his hands in a pleading gesture, shaking his head. 

“Please, just hear me out, love. I need tae tell ye everythin’. Can ye let me?” Slamming your door shut and kicking off your shoes, you stomped into the kitchen, grumbling to yourself as you dumped your bag and grabbed a bottle of wine. Setting the glass bottle and the food bag down on the opposite end of the table to John, you glowered at him as you cracked open the cap. 

“You look like utter fucking shit.” Taking a long swig directly from the bottle, you found yourself looking at everything but him. 

“Lassie, please. I ken yer hurtin’, but look at me, please.” Pain was evident in his voice when he spoke, and it made you crack. Allowing your eyes to dart over and meet the familiar blue of his own. They were duller, nowhere near as lively as they’d been when you’d been dancing together back in Inverness. Back when times were simpler. 

“Have you been gone this whole time?” Pulling out the food, you began to eat, using it as a distraction as he nodded in reply. Guess that made sense why he hadn’t dropped by the bar yet. But now he was back, and he clearly wasn’t going to give this up easily. 

“I need ye tae listen tae me. It's been eatin’ at me fer weeks. I cannae even think how yer handling it—”

“Don’t act like you care about me.” The viciousness of your tone startled him for a moment, his eyes widening warily for a split second, before they calmed again. Placing his hands on the table in front of him, he continued in his soft tone. 

“I do, doll. It's why I’m here. I need tae set things straight. Even if ye dinnae want me anymore, I have tae come clean. Ye deserve tae know.”

“Well, I’m listening, John and you’re saying a whole lot of nothing!” 

Taking a deep breath, he clasped hands behind his neck as he closed his eyes in an attempt to calm himself. 

“I was young when I met her, I thought I knew what I wanted. We were together long before I made SAS,” He started, voice soft as he spoke to you, “The early years were good, sure, but then I started going on longer deployments. When I’d come back, we’d fight all the damn time.” 

Cracking his knuckles, John pursed his lips, moving in his chair restlessly as he spoke. Your eyes watched him closely, alternating between eating and drinking to keep your mouth occupied so you weren’t tempted to interrupt. 

“I’m not sayin’ it as an excuse, I swear it, lassie. But I grew tae resent her, how she spoke tae me, how she spoke about my job, but I was raised tae think divorce wasnae an option, so I pushed through.” Resting his elbows on the table, he dropped his head so it could rest on his palms. 

“I came back one night and found her in bed wit someone else, and she told me it wasnae the first time either.” His voice was hollow as he spoke and he covered his mouth as he sucksd in another deep breath. “Tha’ was the first night I was at the bar.” 

The fact that he seemed genuinely heartbroken made your stomach squirm uncomfortably, and you looked away from him, biting your tongue for the moment. 

“I tried tae stay away from ye. I knew it would be more harm than good tae rope ye into my fuckin’ mess of a life. It wouldnae be fair on ye. I tried tae keep my distance…” His voice trailed off helplessly, looking over to you with his palms out. 

“So you’re blaming me because I wanted you?” The words were intentionally cruel, as you were trying to preserve your own heart. John let out a groan as he ran a hand through his hair. 

“Love please, it’s nae yer fault. It’s mine. Fuck, it’s all my fuckin’ fault. I made myself available tae ye. That is on me. I wasnae strong enough, I was selfish. I just— ye were right. I wanted tae feel loved. I wanted that feeling again that she gave me when we first met. I wanted tae cherish someone, and them me.” Lifting his head, he stared into your eyes, tears pricking into the corners of them. 

“And that was you, doll. You carved yer way into my bleedin’ heart in a way ye weren’t s’posed tae. It was only supposed tae be temporary. I never meant tae fall in love. And by the time I realised, I was in too deep. And I didnae have the heart tae tell ye.”

This time, it was you who breathed in sharply, heart thumping as you bit the inside of your cheeks, trying to fight your own tears that threatened to spill. 

“You can’t— I can’t—” Words clung to the lining of your throat, unable to make their way into your mouth as you let out a sob. The chair made a grating noise against the flooring as John pushed it back to kneel on the floor. 

“Please, love. Ye can tell me tae leave if you want. Tell me tae leave and never come back and I’d do it. But I need ye tae know that I love you. I have loved you fer so long. Loved ye in a way I didnae even know I could. I was scared of what it meant fer me, fer us.” He shuffled towards you, his hands gently caressing the backs of your calves as he dropped his head to rest against your knee. 

“I’ll do anything, hen. Anything fer ye, I swear. Yer the one that has mah heart, and I’ve suffered every moment being away from ye.” 

“Stop it. John, stop it.” You whispered, trying to push him back, trying to stay strong in the moment as he was on his knees begging and pleading for you to forgive him. 

“I’ve ended it. We’re done. She signed the papers immediately. We’ve been done fer so long, I was just too much of a coward tae face it with her.” Lifting his head up, his teary eyes met your own and you couldn’t help but feel your heart fight against your brain and better judgement to pull him into your arms and hold him tightly. 

“But I dinnae want tae be that same coward wit ye. Ye deserve better. I promise, I’ll give you every part of me. I’ll tell ye everythin’ ye wish tae know. I’ll keep nothing from ye, I swear doll. Ye have mah heart, my soul, I cannae live without ye. Please, love please. I need ye in my life. I love you.”

The grip on your legs tightened as he looked up at you, trying to read your expression as his words raced through your head, making you feel a myriad of emotions all at once. Your throat was dry, from the emotion, blood still pounding in your ears as you stared down at the man kneeling at your feet, his eyes hopeful as they bore into yours. 

Inwardly, you’d missed him, missed everything about the time you’d spent together and how he made you feel. He’d meant everything to you. But on the other side of the same coin, who’s to say he wouldn’t fall out of love with you, as he’d done with his former wife and leave you when he’d fallen out of love. 

Swallowing thickly, you cleared your throat, and his eyes widened, looking up at you expectantly as you gave him the answer you felt was right. 

For the Captain MacTavish lovers:

@soapsgf @brewed-pangolin @glitterypirateduck @deadbranch @crashtestbunny

[superbatsbison]

Bruce dating trans man Reader

You guys met early in your transition.

You were hesitant to go out with him because you didn't know how he'd react.

Baby, he already knew before he decided to pursue you.

Bruce would constantly reassure you that he was dating you man to man.

Before he ever touched you somewhere or called you a term of endearment, he'd ask if it was okay.

He made sure to always respect your boundaries and give you what you needed.

When it was time to meet Alfred, you were scared of what he would think.

He was older and Bruce's father figure, so you imagined a lot of bad outcomes.

However, he just smiled and assured you that he had met many trans people over his lifetime.

And he has a fruit cup of a son *points in Bruces direction* so the whole lgbt thing isn't exactly new.

Over the years, your relationship progressed, and you also progressed in your transition.

You made the decision to start testosterone and get top surgery.

Bruce made sure you had the best doctors and surgeons in the world (literally) at your disposal.

As your voice got deeper, he'd be sure to praise the beautiful sound.

His favorite thing would be making you moan low in his ear.

He loved how sensitive you got as a result of testosterone and bottom growth.

Needless to say, he kept you in the bedroom whenever he could.

Other than railing you into the mattress, though 🤚🏼

He also likes to help you in other ways.

You two would often train together down in the cave.

It's an outlet to deal with the effects of testosterone and also helps you bulk up.

Bruce mainly likes the view of his sweaty boyfriend in a tank top and shorts.

Another favorite activity of his is going shopping with you for events.

He insists you both can't wear the same suit twice, but really, he just likes to watch you try them on and get fitted.

God forbid you wear a button up with the sleeves rolled to your elbow because you WILL get mauled by that 6'2 behemoth. 🙏🏼

Speaking of galas, though, Bruce is always acting like your glorified guard dog at said events.

They're mostly populated with old rich people, so you're bound to get a snarky comment from time to time.

Either about you being trans or you and Bruce being a gay couple.

It doesn't really bother you anymore because you're very self-confident.

Bruce is next to you vibrating at a frequency that could shatter glass, though.

He makes sure they're near tears by the time he's done chewing them out.

Then, they're permanently blacklisted from every upper echelon event in Gotham.

It only gets worse when the kids start coming along.

Soon, your lone guard dog turns into an entire pack.

The kids didn't need much explaining on the matter.

Except maybe Cass and Damian.

After they got the basics down, though, they were fully supportive.

You're their dad. You've given them unconditional love and support.

Obviously, they'll do the same.

It makes you very emotional to look at the family you've created.

In your early twenties you felt so alone and aimless.

Unsure if you would ever even live the life you wanted.

But now you have a loving husband and amazing children.

All while being the man you were always meant to be.

[kmixer]

"you're perfect my dear"

🍷 Alastor x insecure! reader

🍷 summary: posting something online thinking you finally look good but then getting some hate comments that make you feel insecure all over again, thinking everything you've done to make yourself pretty was useluss. You begin getting a panic attack the moment you try to make yourself a glass of wine, and that makes you let go and break the bottle of whine. The sounds of glass breaking doesn't go unnoticed

🍷Cw: body dismorphia, some tiny mentally unstable topics (panic attack, overthinking, shaking, anxiety), cyberbullying, comfort, fluff

You just posted some cute photos of yourself on instagram, one of your face, one of your body, and some others.

You smiled as you were proud of yourself for being confident enough for doing this bc this was way out of your comfort zone, but you wanted to try, so you did.

an hour passes as you got lots of likes and kind comments on your post. You smile at your phone as you open a wine bottle to relax a bit more. as you were about to fill up your glass, you froze bc of one particular comment saying "if i were you, i would've k!lled myself ages ago"

Your body froze as you began shaking and breathing heavier. You try to put the wine bottle down as you read several others, agreeing with the person putting up that horrible comment.

Breathing was getting harder. You put the wine bottle down, or so you thought. Suddenly you heard a loud sound of glass shattering and when you looked down you saw wine and glass all over the floor.

Realizing what you just did made you even more anxious as you tried to get out of the puddle, but it only ended up with a piece of glass cutting your foot.

Tears began running over your cheek as you sank down on the ground and pulled your knees up so you could hide your face in them. You began sobbing quietly when you suddenly heard the doorknob turn, knowing someone just came in.

"Oh dear" you heard, and by the radiodic voice, you know instantly it was your boyfriend Alastor. He knew for some time that you had body dysmorphia and looked very low at yourself. He himself thought you were perfect and always told you that.

"What happened, love?" He said while walking over to you with a worried expression even though his smile still remained. "What is bothering you, love?" He asked while making one of his tentacles sweep away the pieces of glass so he could get to you easier.

When he could get to you properly, he walked up to you and crouched down in front of you. You were still sobbing and not paying attention to the wound on your foot, nor your boyfriend talking to you.

"awh, comon darling, tell me what happened so i can dress you up with your beautiful smile again." he said while taking you face in both his hands and carefully facing it up so he could see your precious face. Even though your eyes were puffy and red, he still smiled at you with a comforting smile, thinking you were as beautiful as ever.

"Now tell me, love what's the matter" and then you told him what happened, about the hate comments about you were finally confident enough to post and about your panic attack.

Alastor looked at you with still a comforting smile as he leaned forward to kiss your forehead. "Now, now, what did i say about haters?" He says while looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

"ignore them bc they're insecure themselves?" You said questionable. Alastor looked pleased and nodded, "That's right there. now comon and let's clean that nasty wound" he said, gesturing at the wound on your foot bc of the glass piece.

After you guys were done bandaging your foot, Alasor carried you to your bedroom and layed you down on your bed while he crawled beside you. He pulled you closer as he comforted you with playing with your hair and looking at you with a lovely gaze.

"Before you fall asleep dear, i wanna say one more thing," He said while kissing your forhead and resting his chin on your head making you smile. "You're perfect, my dear"

I NEED HIM

btw, if you have any ff you wanna request about any of the hazbinhotel characters, feel free to request!

this ff was made by kmixer. Please do not steal or copy my work.

[arminsesposa]

Sick Day

Gojo Satoru x Female Sick reader!

You could never hide anything from your fiancé as he immediately noticed your sickness.

Fluff, somewhat short

Happy Holidays everyone! This may or may not be my last writing of 2023. I’m actually sick so I took some inspiration.

Don’t forget to Reblog! :-)

Satoru Gojo knew his fiancé by the back of his hand. The moment he met you, he fell hard. Never wanting to leave your side, always bothering you, and finally asking you out on a date. The chemistry and connection was ultimately there between you guys as you guys were inseparable. As he finally proposed to you after a couple of years of you two being together. Now living in a shared apartment, Satoru was beyond excited of his new life with you.

As you sniffled and coughed hard, you were dying. Satoru had left to get groceries as you woke up and began to clean. You tried your best to hide your sickness from him, leaving and excusing yourself whenever you needed to cough or sneeze or any sniffle you had hoping you fiancé didn’t catch on. As you made your way to the kitchen to wash the dishes from last night’s dinner you felt dizzy. Was it from the high fever that you’ve been ignoring? Or the chest pain from every cough you tried hiding. As you finished the dishes, you swayed too much almost collapsing as you dropped a glass. As Satoru entered the apartment the sound of glass shattering caught his attention as he made his way to the kitchen only to see you on the floor picking up the pieces of shattered glass. “(Y/N) what’s wrong?” He asked as he placed a hand on your back and realized something was wrong with you. “You’re definitely not feeling well huh” he noticed your body language and how flushed your face was as you faced him. “Im fine” you tried lying to his face as he immediately got up and carried you bridal style. “Honey, you can’t lie to me. I’ve known you since forever! Last time you lied to me was when you told me Megumi had a girlfriend!” He said with a cheerful grin. “Let me take care of you! You always take care of me, and now it’s my turn” he said as he laid you down the bed and covered you with a blanket.

As you groan and complain almost growing pale, Satoru makes you a tea, feeds you a chicken noodle soup (he secretly called Nanami over since he accidentally burned the first one he made) as he sat down at a nearby chair watching over you. “Toru?” You say in a weak and sick tone of voice as you look over at him. The moment you call his name he looks at you and he notices how weak your voice was. The concern on his face only grew as he listened to the tone of your voice as he was starting to get seriously worried about your health. "Yeah Baby? What is it?" He asked. “Why are you still near me? I’m gonna get you sick” you said as you coughed and sniffled trying to tell him to get out of the shared room. Satoru laughed and grinned like an idiot before continuing “I'm staying right here with you. I won't leave you as you recover from this. I'll be by your side every step of this recovery, I promise." He said cupping your face as he saw how sad you looked. As you held his hand cupping your face you immediately smiled feeling so thankful to have such an amazing fiancé. As you decided to scoot on one side of the bed and tapped on the empty side “satoru will you lay down next to me?” You asked with a gentle smile “I know I don’t want to get you sick so maybe it’s not a good idea” you said shaking your head as you sniffled.

The moment you made the request for him to lay down next to you he couldn't help but get a little bit flustered. He was instantly overwhelmed by the pure affection and cuteness that you were giving right now and he quickly snapped out of it the moment you brought up the fact that maybe it's not a good idea due to not wanting him to get sick. He then got his thoughts back in order and he spoke back to you while smiling softly. "Well do you really want me to lay down next to you?” He teased you as you groaned at his tactics. You immediately took back what you said “I wanted you too, but I don’t want you to get sick, so never mind” as he immediately protested and frowned. Those words instantly made him melt a little bit on the inside as he felt an instant wave of affection overwhelm him. The thought of you being so considerate of him and his health made him feel happy and it gave him an instant burst of confidence. "Well it's my job as a fiancé to take care of you so there's no way I'm staying far away from you. If I have to get sick by being by your side, so be it. I'm laying down." He said as he laid down next to you and he covered both himself and you with the warm blanket. As you cupped his face, now facing him you had to ask him to make sure “Satoru are you sure, I don’t want you getting sick” you said as you sniffled once again. The moment he felt your hand cup his cheek like that he felt your love and warmth as The touch of your hand against his cheek made him feel a surge of affection all over his body and he can feel his cheeks instantly turning red. "Well... You're recovering and I'm just gonna stay with you and not leave your side. So if I get sick by it then I'll just have to deal with it." He said wrapping his arms around you knowing that when he gets sick. That you’ll be there by his side no matter what. As you two slept comfortably together in each other’s arms.

[justmeinadaze]

I Miss The Misery (Steve X You)

"Just know that I'll make you hurt

(I miss the lies and the pain what you did to me)

When you tell me you'll make it worse

(I'd rather fight all night than watch the TV)

I hate that feeling inside

You tell me how hard you'll try

But when we're at our worst

I miss the misery."

A/N: From my previous post, I mentioned I've been feeling some type of way and every time I hear this song I think of mean Steve every time.

Warnings: Mean, Toxic Steve X Fem Slightly Toxic Y/N, SMUT of the rougher variety, public sex (bathroom, office), daddy kink (cause im me), smacking, choking, degrading (brat, whore), ANGST, some gas lighting from Stevie, he's definitely not a good guy, cheating (mentions of him cheating on her; reader cheats on bf), she talks about how his behavior excites her sexually but she's aware of how toxic that kind of thinking is. I think that's all.

Kind of inspired by an ex I had and the way he treated me. He bounced off of each other negatively and I remember telling my therapist that I thought the reason I kept going back to him was because "at least I feel something." I haven't seen him in 4 years so Yay for healthy relationships! :)

Doesn't mean we cant enjoy some toxic smut with Steve Harrington.

Word Count: 6317

“Hey, honey. Rough day?”, you coo at your boyfriend as he comes through the front door with a heavy elongated sigh. 

“Yeah. These assholes that bought our company are changing everything and it’s starting to piss me off.”, he grumbles while taking a seat at the dinner table as you crawl into his lap and kiss his temple. 

“You should say something. Tell your boss you’re sick of the changes and the disrespect. They need you and your team, baby.”

“Naw.”, he gently smiles as he hugs you tighter. “It’s fine. I’ll get over it.”

Smothering your own frustrated sigh, you grin as you kiss his lips before heading back to the kitchen to finish the meal you were making. You never understood your boyfriend’s passive aggression when it came to most things. Any time anything bothered him, he’d vent and stomp his feet but in the end, he did nothing. 

You had never dated a man like him before. Most of your past boyfriends were toxic to say the least but what they didn’t know was you were always trying to recreate a feeling someone from your past gave you. The feeling of being desperately needed to the point that they would break down a door to be with you. That passion that followed jealously or a fight that they most likely started but you definitely instigated. That feeling of being…alive. When you couldn’t find it in anyone else, you decided it was best to move on to something healthier. 

Jacob was a good person who doted on you hand and foot. If you had a bad day, he would hold you and if you just needed someone to talk to he was more than accommodating. When you two fought, if you could call it that, you could scream and be mean and all he would do is sigh and say things like “I understand why you would feel that way. I’ll try and be better.” When you two were intimate, he was incredibly vanilla, only ever being sexual in bed and usually missionary. The few times you tried to explain what you wanted, he never seemed to understand. 

“You want me to hurt you??”

“No…not exactly. I just want you to be…rougher. SHOW me how much you love me. MAKE me feel it.”

“You don’t think I show you enough how much I care about you?”

“No! I mean yes…I mean…Gah! Never mind.”

 “What’s, uh, what’s the name of the company that bought yours again?”, you ask as you grab a beer bottle from the fridge and pop it open. 

“Actually, babe, I was going to tell you. I did some research on them and it seems they originated in your hometown Hawkins. It’s a company called Harrington & Co.” The sound of glass shattering causes Jacob to jump up and immediately run to the kitchen where he finds you wide eyed with beer now swimming around your feet. “Oh my god. Are you okay?! Don’t move, you don’t have shoes. Let me clean this for you.”

“Harrington? Like Bill Harrington?”

“Yeah! I was going to ask if you knew them.”, he continues as he kneels down and begins to clean broken glass before wiping at the liquid. “Supposedly, from what I read, Bill Harrington retired and left it to his son Steven. Did you know him? He’s about your age.”

“Where the fuck have you been?!”

“What do you care, sire?! I’m not your fucking girlfriend remember?”

“That doesn’t stop you from coming to my house at fucking 2 am begging to ride my dick!”

Your hand flew across his face, his angry eyes glaring into yours when his head reels back. As you swing your arm to hit him again, his large palm catches your wrist and roughly pulls you to his chest.

“Let me go.”, you growl.

Leaning forward, his lips hover just above your own, feeling the slight wind of your heavy exhales that come from your nose.

“Make me.”

“No, I didn’t know him.”

#############

Sighing, you take shaky, anxious steps towards your boyfriend’s office building. When Jacob called saying he forgot his lunch, you debated on telling him you were busy with work stuff of your own before finally deciding to bring him his food. 

He owns the building. It’s not like he’s going to actually be in it 24/7. Plus, if he was he would definitely be on a different floor.

“Hey sweetie. Oh! Thank you so much.”, he grins as he kisses your cheek. “Do you want to sit with me while I eat? We can share or I can buy you something.”

“Yeah, sure. I’m not hungry but I can sit with you.”

Holding your hand, he walked with you to the building cafeteria and like any good girlfriend, you sat next to him listening to him tell you about the long trials and tribulations of his day. You smiled, nodding where you were supposed to and frowning at things he seemed annoyed with. After thirty minutes of his hour lunch, you desperately needed a break. 

“I’m going to go get a drink. I’ll be right back.”

Jacob smiled as you tilted down to kiss him before turning to head towards the area with drinks and food. As you stood there staring into the void of soda options, a strong cologne smell hit your nose that had you dizzy as your eyes fluttered closed. You’d know that smell anywhere, inhaling it so many times in the past. 

Steve smiles as he watches you walk around his room in one of his polos that hangs down your body like a nightgown, just barely covering the love bites and bruises from his fingers that were starting to form on your thighs. Lifting an expensive looking glass bottle to your nose, you grin to yourself as you inhale and put it back down. 

“I love the way that stuff smells.”

“Yeah. My dad says it’s a good smell for ‘classy men’.”, he chuckles.

“Hm. I guess he doesn’t know you very well.”

“Fuck you. I’m classy.”, Steve teases as his grin grows, yanking your arm so you fall on top of him as he folds his hands together behind your lower back. “Classy enough to land a pretty girl like you.”

“Y/N?” 

As you turn your head, your eyes lock with his slightly stunned honey-colored irises as they scan you up and down. You begin to feel slightly self-conscious in your leggings and regular t-shirt compared to his slick black suit and well styled hair.

“Holy shit. What…What are you doing here? Do you work here?”, Steve asks.

“Uh, no. My, uh, my boyfriend actually does.” You turn and point to where he was nonchalantly eating, not even looking in your direction. “What are you doing here?”

“My dad followed through and gave me his company. We finally expanded out of Hawkins so I bought this place.”

“Yeah, I heard. Congratulations.” His eyes continue to rake over you making you more and more anxious the longer you stood there. “Well, I better get back before his hour ends.”

A shiver ran up your spine as his hand reached out to grab your arm. 

“Wait. I’d like to talk to you some more and catch up. Do you want to meet me for dinner? I’m free tonight if you are.”

“Steve… I’m with someone. I can’t have dinner or anything else with an ex or whatever the fuck we were. I’m happy now.”

The smirk that painted his beautiful lips startled you as you stood up straighter.

“Oh your happy, huh? You should tell that to your face. That guy’s your boyfriend? Guy barely seems like he can get it up let alone satisfy a woman like you.”

“Define woman like me?”, you inquire sarcastically. 

“A strong, gorgeous woman who liked to be fucked hard and put in her place.” Steve’s eyes remain on you as your own widen as you look around hoping now one was close enough to hear his not-so-subtle tone. “Tell me, honey, does he know you called me Daddy? I imagine not because if you were my girl and I found out you ever called someone else that you wouldn’t be able to sit down for weeks.”

“Thank God, I’m not your fucking girl.”, you snarled. “You were never man enough to make that commitment.”

As you both stared daggers into each other’s eyes a sudden hand on your shoulder brings you back. 

“Baby, everything ok?”, your boyfriend asks way too calmly. 

“Yeah, Jacob, I’m fine. I was just introducing myself to the owner of your company.”

Steve’s eyes immediately softened as you watched him play the role he always played extremely well; charming and popular.

“Steve Harrington. Nice to meet you, Jacob. Y/N and I go way back.”

“Oh. I thought you said you didn’t know him, sweetie.”

Your ex’s eyes narrow in your direction in faux shock making you sigh in annoyance. 

“I didn’t know him. I knew OF him. Everyone knew who Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington was. Unfortunately, I wasn’t popular enough to penetrate his circle.”

“Hm, but I was to penetrate yours.”, he sassed with an arrogant confidence that just made you angry. 

“Nice seeing you again, Harrington. Come on, baby.”

Steve watches you both walk away with a determined gaze that you can feel burning into your back as you headed towards your table.

“He seems nice. What was he like in school? Do you remember?”

“You didn’t call me like you said you would.”

“I was busy, Y/N.”, he answers nonchalantly, not even meeting your eyes as he continues putting things in his locker. “I figured when you didn’t hear from me, you’d just fuck the next guy.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, seriously?! Steve, for some fucking reason I like you. I only want to be with you but it kills me when you don’t follow through with your promises. You say you’ll call and you don’t. You say we’ll go on an official date finally and then last minute you change plans but still call me to come over late at night so you can fuck me. It’s push and pull with you. You act like you want me but then you don’t. I can’t… I can’t keep waiting for you.”

Slamming his locker closed, he finally turns to face you with a look that said he really didn’t care. 

“Then don’t.”

“Yeah…I remember him. Steve Harrington was a complete asshole.”

##############

You managed to steer clear of Steve and anything having to do with him for a few months after your encounter with him until you couldn’t anymore.

“Baby, it’s an office party. Come on, we have to go.”

“Then go, Jacob, but I’d rather just stay here.”

“Y/N, you’re my girlfriend and this is important to me. Everyone I know will be there including clients. I want them to meet the woman I love.”

You can’t help but sigh at his statement from your place in the closet. You cared about your boyfriend, you genuinely did but love? That was big word with a big meaning. 

“FUCK YOU!”, you shout as you run out into the hallway and yank your arm away from Steve as he tries to stop you while buckling up his pants. “I’m so stupid. DON’T fucking touch me.”

Growling, he pushed you into another empty room and closed the door behind him as he continued to put his clothes back on. 

“Lower your fucking voice—”

“Yeah, wouldn’t want the entire party to know what an asshole you really are!” His hand tries to block your mouth but you angrily swat him away causing him to back up and hold his hands up defensively. “You TOLD ME that we could make this serious. That we would finally have a REAL relationship and then I find you here fucking Lori! Are you kidding me?”

“Y/N, I—”

“I told you I loved you, Steve. I’ve never said that to anyone!” Tears started to fall down your face as you hugged your arms around your body. “You’re never going to claim me, are you? You’re never going to call me your girlfriend. I was just another fuck buddy, wasn’t I?”

When he doesn’t respond, you shove his chest hard. 

“ANSWER ME!”

“YES! YES, OKAY?! Excuse me for not wanting to fucking hurt you. You knew what this was, honey. Its…It’s not my fault…you caught feelings.”

That night you ran. You told your parents you loved them, packed a small bag, and left Hawkins to Indianapolis swearing to yourself that this would never happen again. Ever since that night, you had been so numb to most emotions but especially ones that included romance. 

“Ok. Let me get ready and I’ll meet you downstairs. 

***

If you ran into Steve Harrington again, this time you would be ready. Wearing your shortest black dress and highest black heels, you strutted into Jacob’s office party with a demeanor that had everyone turning their heads. 

With a gigantic grin on his face, your boyfriend introduced you to people and showed you off the way you deserved. 

I should be enjoying this. What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I be normal!?

“Hey, baby, I’m going to run to the restroom.” 

After giving him a sweet kiss, you powerwalk to the girl’s bathroom and lean over the sink as you stare at yourself in the mirror. 

What’s wrong with me?

The door abruptly opens making you jump as you quickly pretend to be washing hands until a familiar aroma grabs your attention. 

“Steve! What the fuck are you doing?! This is the girl’s bathroom!”

“Pfft like that ever stopped me before.” His eyes hungrily drank you in as you did the same. In high school he always dressed well but it was rare you saw him in suits. Now you imagined he wore them all the time and they accentuated his body in a way that had your mouth watering. 

“I was watching you around the party with your boyfriend. You seem…sad.”

“Well, I’m not.”

“Hm. Who are you trying to convince? Me or you?”

“Fuck off, Harrington. Alright? I left you and Hawkins for a reason. Just give me some peace.”

“Yeah, you did leave. You didn’t even say goodbye.”, he replied with an undertone of anger you couldn’t quite fathom. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. When should I have done that? While you were fucking the school slut or after you told me you didn’t love me.”

“I didn’t say that. I never said I didn’t love you.”

“PLEASE! You said I should have known what our relationship was and it wasn’t your fault I caught feelings for you! What was I supposed to take from that?!”

“Do you think my dad would have let us be together?! A rich Harrington with a poor Y/L/N? This isn’t a fairy tale, Y/N!”

“Of course! Steve Harrington, always looking out for himself!”

“What did you want me to do?!”

“I WANTED YOU TO FIGHT FOR ME!”

The bathroom door swings open again and you quickly grab his arm, shoving him into an empty stall as a group of girls gather at the sinks. As you listen to them talk, your head hangs as your brain swims in memories of the past. 

You never cared that he was a Harrington or that he had a ton of money attached to his name. Even though you two had a lot of bad moments, to you, the good always outweighed them. Steve always knew how to make you laugh and smile (when he showed up). He would come over on Friday nights with a movie and some food (because he didn’t want to risk you both being seen). At night when he would sneak through your window (at 1am), you would lay on his chest and talk about everything you both could think of (after he fucked you like a whore). 

Fingers gently lifted your chin, tilting your head so your eyes could meet his. As a tear fell down your cheek, he tenderly wiped it away with his thumb before cupping your face with his hands. You closed your eyes as his lips kissed your forehead, slowly trailing them down to your nose, and hovering just above your own.

Closing the distance, you pulled his mouth to yours as your palms slid down his back, trying to bring him closer to your body. 

You never forgot the taste of his kisses but you were grateful for the reminder. 

After forcing open your legs with his knee, your dress hiked up a bit allowing him easier access to your panty covered core as his hand effortlessly pressed the silky materiel against your clit. Biting your lip to stifle the moan, you felt him smile as his mouth latched on to your neck. Your eyes rolled as his tongue licked your skin and his fingers moved your underwear out of the way so he could guide two of them into your entrance.

Steve’s elbow locked in place as your knees started to buckle, holding you against the tile wall as you clung to his shoulders. It took every ounce of energy you had to remain quiet as his digits curled inside of you. The girls outside of the stall continued to gossip, completely unaware that the owner of their company was about to make their coworker’s girlfriend come undone.

Leaning back to look at you, the tip of his nose lightly grazed yours as your mouth fell open in a silent moan. Nodding his head, his beautiful eyes were begging you for something he needed you to say. Something he hadn’t heard since you left and you hadn’t said to anyone but him. 

“Please…Daddy.”, you mouthed and without hesitation he gripped the back of your neck, pulling your head to his shoulder as he pumped his fingers faster into your cunt.

The bathroom door banged shut as the women left and a loud moan you had been holding on to echoed through the room as you reached down to grip his wrist, trembling against him as you came. Yanking you back, he crashed his lips to yours as your tongues mingled together. 

“Please…please…”, you whimper as you push at his hand.

“It’s been a while, huh? Since you’ve had something big inside of you.”, he teased, grinning when your breathily laughed. “God, I missed you so much. I thought about you every day for the past five years. I love you, honey.” 

Something in your look gave him pause as he scanned your face. 

“What?” Pushing him backwards, you threw open the door to the stall while adjusting your dress and quickly checking yourself in the mirror to make sure you looked at least how you did when you came in here. “Hey, talk to me. What’s—”

As he reached for your arm, you turned around and smacked his cheek.

“How dare you. You think after everything you put me through you can just walk back into my life and expect things to be how they were?! I’m in a healthy relationship for once. He doesn’t bail on dates or disappear when I need him. Jacob actually shows me off and tells people I’m his girlfriend that he loves! I don’t cry every night because of something he said or did! I don’t—”

“Have sex the way you want?”, Steve interrupted snidely. “You don’t actually have any fucking fun because he’s so fucking boring you just want to walk into traffic. He doesn’t challenge you or make feel needed. He doesn’t know how fucking numb you really are. Jesus…”, he snickers. “You’re definitely not the same girl that left me.”

“That’s right because you broke her fucking heart!”

“Does he know that you don’t love him?” You freeze by the door at his question. “Does he know that you, honey, are exactly like me whether you like it or not. There’s a reason you’ve thought of me every day to. That’s the same reason you’re afraid to leave him.”

“Our relationship…was toxic…”

Tilting his head to the side, he reached into his suit pocket, grabbing a pack of cigarettes, and lighting one between his teeth. 

“That may be but that also doesn’t change the fact that you and I, baby girl, thrive on that shit.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you shake your head before addressing him and turning to leave.

“Stay away from me, Steven.”

#############

“Oof.”, Jacob groans as he slinks out of his suit jacket and throws himself down on the sofa. “It was a long day. We have a big account that landed in our lap and even your friend has been staying late to help.”

“He’s not my friend.”, you mumble as you continue focusing on the sink in front of you. 

You hadn’t been able to shake Steve from your brain since the party. Hell, you hadn’t been able to shake him for the last 5 years. You thought about him constantly but knew he was bad for you. Part of what got you through the heartache was telling yourself that he wasn’t missing you; that he didn’t care at all where you were or if you were even happy. 

But here he was telling you the opposite. Was he lying or did he genuinely care? From the few interactions you had with him he still seemed exactly the same. God, why couldn’t you get the warm fuzzy feelings he gave you with someone healthy?! Why did you have to fall in love with him? Why did he rile you up and get you going but by doing the worst things. 

“Honey? Are you alright? You seem kind of—”

“I’m fine, Jacob. I’m just exhausted.”

His hand gently caressed your back as his chin rested on your shoulder. “I understand. Is there anything I can do?”

Angrily, you slammed the plate in your hand back into sink, lightly pushing him aside as you entered the living room and began to pace. 

“Baby, what’s going on?”

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“STOP BEING SO FUCKING NICE TO ME!”, you shout as frustrated tears began to fall. “Why do you alwayshave to be so nice?”

“How else should I be, Y/N?”

“I don’t know! Fucking…tell me to stop being a bitch or raise your voice a little bit. Throw me against a wall and fuck me into submission.” 

“Y/N, I still don’t get it. You’re telling me you want me to hurt you?”

“NO! I just want you to stop being so fucking passive! Show a bit more passion! How can you live life like this!? If you’re angry just be fucking angry and then do something about it!”

Placing his hands on his hips, his eyes glance over you as if confused on how to proceed. 

“You know what? Um, fuck it. I’m sorry, honey. I just…I had a weird day and I’m taking it out on you.” Wiping your eyes, you hastily grab your jacket from the nearby closet, and sling it over your shoulders. “I’m just going to go for a drive.”

“Y/N, wait! It’s pouring!”

Shutting the door, you cut him off as you stand in the yard and let the rainwater hit your face. It had been so long since you felt amped up like this. Backing out of your driveway, you head to the one person you know will understand.

***

“Yeah? What? I’m busy.”

“Uh Mr. Harrington, there’s a young lady here that says she knows you and was wondering if she could come up to talk to you.”

“I see. Carl? Does the young lady have a name or are we just letting any random women into the building?”,Steve asked the security guard sarcastically through intercom that connected to the top two floors. 

“Um, Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Ok, send her up.”, he sighs almost as if he’s annoyed by your presence. 

You bounce anxiously in the elevator as you take the ride up to the top floor and as soon as the doors ding open, you power walk towards the lighted up office at the end of hall.

“Y/N.”, Steve exhales without looking in your direction. “I’m extremely busy so if this isn’t important then make it quick.” When his eyes finally land on your soaked, agitated frame, his whole demeanor shifted as he came around his desk and cupped your face in his hands. “Jesus Christ, honey. What the fuck is going on? Are you alright?”

Tilting up on your toes, you hungerly press your lips against his.

“Baby…Baby…hang on…Stop!”, he shouts sternly as he pulls you back. “Tell me what happened right now.”

“You said you missed me and that you loved me.”, you pant as you try to tug out of his grip. “I didn’t. I didn’t miss you at all. The only thing I ever loved about you was your dick, Harrington.”

His eyes narrowed as his head tilted trying to get a read on you. 

“Why are you lying, little girl? You’re not supposed to lie to me remember?”

“Said the liar. I bet you didn’t miss me either with all that pussy you were getting back at Hawkins.”

“I can get pussy and still miss yours. The only difference is I actually enjoyed fucking those gorgeous women. When’s the last time you were fucked properly?”

“Jacob can get the job done. Trust me.”, you sass. 

“Then tell me, baby, why are you here with me?”

“Because I’m an idiot! Maybe, I should go home.”

As you turned to leave, he roughly grabbed your arm, spun you around, and kissed you again. It was a rough kiss loaded with need as you both clung to each other, you a bit more desperately than him. 

“Where’s my girl? I want my Y/N.”, he snarled angrily as he pulled your hair back, tilting your face up to meet his. 

“I told you. She’s gone.”

“I don’t believe you.” Pushing you down onto your knees, he continues to hold you firmly as he unbuckled and unbuttoned his pants with one hand. “I think she’s still there. She’s just hidden behind this false facade of someone ‘normal’.” As his slacks fall to his ankles, his cock springs free, and you salivate at the sight as he pumps it slowly in front of your face. “But we aren’t normal, are we, baby?”

As you try to lean forward to take him into your mouth, Steve pulls on your hair harder forcing you back while leaning down till his face was just inches above your own. 

“Ah, see? There she is. Hidden right under there.” His tone is full of snark but his beautiful features remain stoic as he continues to glare down at you. “Come on, honey. Give me what you got.”

Rearing back, a glob of spit leaves your mouth and lands just above his nose.

“Fuck you, Steve Harrington. I hate you.”

Wiping his hand over his face, he collects your saliva and strokes it along his cock.

“Jesus, baby, your anger and attitude just really fucking get me off.” Lifting you off your knees, he pushes you onto his desk, tearing off your jacket and shirt before slamming your back against the wood as your head hangs over the other side. 

You try to get up but he’s faster, holding his palm against your chest as he comes around his desk. 

“You remember our word right, Y/N? I wouldn’t be surprised if you forgot it. I imagine you haven’t needed it with the extremely mundane almost tedious style sex you’ve been having over the years.”, he chuckles, laughing at his own snark as you pout angrily beneath him. “DO you remember?”

“Yes I fucking remember!”

The palm on your chest slides easily up your skin and takes hold of your throat.

“Yes, you remember what?”

“I remember our safe word.”

Rolling his eyes, he lets you go just long enough to slap your cheek hard before holding you down again. 

“Yes, WHAT?!”

“YES, DADDY, I REMEMBER OUR FUCKING WORD!”

Steve’s hand moves behind your head, holding you up slightly as his leaking tip touches your lips, exhaling heavily when your tongue darts out to lick his slit and you moan at the taste of him. Opening your mouth wider, you allow him to push his cock in till he promptly hits the back of your throat making you gag. 

“That’s it, baby, take it like a good girl.”

Thrusting his hips, you flatten your tongue allowing him to use you as he pleases. Abruptly, the phone blares on his desk startling you but annoying him as he angrily grunts at the device. 

“God fucking damn it. Can’t have one fucking moment. Don’t move.”, he growls as he leans over to pick up the receiver. “Yeah, this is Harrington.” His long fingers grip your hair tighter as his cock subtly slides between your lips unable to remain still as your wet, slobber filled mouth warms him. 

“Seriously? This is why you called at 10pm? We have it covered. I have faith in the employees here.”

Even though his voice remained relatively calm despite what was happening, you knew him well enough to know he was using all his energy to do so. Deciding to rile him further, your hand reached up above you and gently massaged his balls the way you knew drove him crazy back in school. 

“Look, stop panicking. I-I-I…” You smiled in triumph as Steve stuttered over his words. “Fuck. No not you. Clark, just…just tell my dad to calm the fuck down. I haven’t run his company into the ground yet and I don’t…don’t plan on doing it any time soon.”

Slamming the phone back on the hook, he grips the side of your head with both hands as he thrusts his hips at a faster pace. 

“Did you think that was funny, little girl?! Did you think it was funny watching me squirm?” Holding you still, he stops moving when he feels your nose against his sack, grunting as your throat constricts around him. “That’s it, you fucking brat. Choke on it.”

Pulling himself all the way out, he allows you to collect air and watches with pride as the tears streak down your face. Once he feels like you’ve had enough of a break, he shoves his cock back down your throat, holding you still as you gag and drool around him. 

A frustrated sigh leaves his lips as he tugs you off him and walks around to the other side of the desk while shuffling off his pants as he unbuttons his shirt. 

“Come here, baby.”

As you fully sit up, you raise your hips so he can aggressively yank down your pants with your panties. Bringing you towards the edge of his desk, he falls to his knees, and puts your cunt on display for himself as he uses his fingers to hold open your puffy lips. 

“Fuck, sweetheart. I missed this pussy so much. You always smelled so fucking good.” You moan as Steve’s nose grazes your clit and his tongue licks between your folds. “Shit. And you tasted so fucking delicious to.”

His head falls between your legs and your fingers tangle in hair as he devours you like you were his last meal. The obscene sounds of slurps and his tongue flicking in and out of your core has you clenching tightly around him as your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

“Please, don’t stop, Steve. Oh my god.”, you whine. 

As your hips start to buck against him, his strong hands hold you down forcing you to stay still. You continue petting his head, occasionally tugging on his fluffy, soft strands making his groan reverberate through you. 

The phone beside you blares loudly again and he grunts in agitation as he gets to his feet, grabbing the cord to yank it from the wall. 

Taking his place between your legs, you both moan as he runs his mushroom tip along you slit and rests his forehead on yours.

“Beg me, Y/N. Tell me how bad you want my cock that you love oh so much and not me.”

“Please, Steve, I need—”

His palm around your throat cuts you off.

“No, little girl. Remember? You don’t care about me anymore. You don’t give a fuck about Steve Harrington. All you want is my dick right? Well, honey, this dick belongs to Daddy so beg him.”, he growled causing your breath to hitch. 

“Please, Daddy. I’m sorry. I need you to fuck me. I need to feel you fill me up.”

“Do you think you deserve it?”

“No.”, you whisper, your answer intriguing him as his head shifts to the side. “But I need it.”

Your hands run up his chest till you reach his neck, clinging to him as he slowly guides himself inside of you. You mouth dropped open in the shape of an O as he gradually pumps his hips, pushing himself deeper into your heat. 

“God damnit, Y/N, how long has it been? Your pussy isn’t used to a big cock anymore is she? You’re so fucking tight.”

“Still s-so cocky.”

Steve chuckles lightly, his head hanging as he bottoms out. 

“Still a fucking brat.”

Gripping both your thighs, he pulls back before thrusting his length hard inside of you, practically punching the air from your lungs. Falling flat onto his desk, he finds a steady pace that leaves the two of you panting and moaning.

Leaning his upper body over yours, his lips kiss yours sloppily as your tongues dance together.

“Fuck, baby girl, no one has ever taken my cock as well as you.” His face falls into the nook between your neck and shoulder as he bites at the flesh. “This pussy was made for me, Y/N.”

“Harder, Daddy.”

Taking hold of you, he lifts you off his desk and places you on the floor, lifting one of your legs over his shoulder as he pounds into you.

“Like that, honey? Yeah. Daddy knows. Daddy can take care of you.” With one hand clinging to your leg for leverage, he utilizes his other to bring his thumb to your clit making you whimper as his cock abuses your g-spot. “Cum, pretty girl. Cum all over my dick.”

Perching yourself up on your elbows, your eyes lock with his giving him more determination to push you over that ledge. When you do finally fall, he grunts at the feeling, fucking you through it as his thumb moves faster against you. 

“Atta girl. Fuck me. Your pussy won’t stop pulling me in. You really needed Daddy, huh, baby?”

Shakily your hand grabbed his wrist, silently begging him to stop and to your surprise he did, bringing his palm up to caress your cheek. Focusing on his own pleasure, he slammed into you so hard that you knew you would be sore tomorrow. 

Falling flat against your body, he rolled his hips a few more times before warming your insides with his release. 

The two of you laid together quietly for a few moments until he finally rolled on to his back. Sneaking a glance your way, Steve noticed you were trembling and sat up to grab his jacket off the floor where he had tossed it to place it over your body like a blanket. 

“Thank you.”, you murmur as you bring it up closer to your neck. 

“For the jacket or the sex?” As you turn your head to look at him, he does the same. “That’s what you came here for right? Because I know it wasn’t for me. I guaran-God damn-tee if your boyfriend or any other guy fucked you the way I did, you’d be with them right now.”

“You’re right.” Steve huffed as he fully sat up and leaned against the sofa he had in his office. “What do you want me say, Harrington? I tried for two years to get you to claim me and every time you pushed me away.”

“And every time you still came back.”

“So that gave you license to treat me like garbage?!”

“No! I’m just… I’m just saying there’s a reason for that.”

“Yeah and not a good one. Steve…what we have…had… yeah the sex is amazing but everything else is unhealthy. The missed dates, angry calls, the fighting, the fucking cheating… we are toxic.”

He sighs heavily before giving you his full attention.

“Yeah, well, if we’re toxic then I’d rather go down with you than anyone else.” Shaking your head, you get to your feet as you quickly grab your clothes and start to put them on. “I know you feel the same, Y/N, or else you wouldn’t be here. You like all that bullshit because at least you’re feeling something other than fucking boredom. Trust me, I tried to. I tried doing the healthy ‘normal’ thing. I wanted to fucking gouge my eyes out by the end of the day. It took me awhile to realize that all the women I was with including her… I just kept wishing they were you.”

“This was a mistake. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“No, no, no, no, honey. Please, trust me. I feel like we can make this work.”

“Well, I don’t.”

Backing away from you, he folded his arms as he leaned against his desk. You knew this look very well, always referring to it as “the shutdown”. His wall was going up which means he was going to make this situation as complicated as possible.

The butterflies in your tummy fluttered in anticipation at the notion.

Why am I like this? Why can’t I be normal?

“Ok, Y/N. We can play this game but just remember, little girl, I’m way better at it than you.”

############

@daysinthephoenix @sophiejayne-illustrations713

[bones4thecats]

A/N: Part two of this request, this post includes both Jade and Floyd Leech. Enjoy @nunezs-stuff~~

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

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🍄 This tweel didn't allow his hidden anger and sadness to get a hold of him, even after the many affirming words for his brother and friend, saying he could cry if he needed too

🍄 He smiled when he saw you make your way to the portal, and when he closed his eyes to look at the ground, the sound of Azul chuckling, Floyd laughing, gasps from everyone, and the sound of glass shattering made him look up

🍄 You broke the mirror, your way home

🍄 You turned to your boyfriend and smiled, a genuine smile, saying;

" Jade Leech, my love, I'm staying here for good. "

🍄 He stared at you with wide eyes and you ran up to him with your arms wide, ending the whole ordeal with a kiss

🍄 You pretended that you couldn't hear Crowley's cries of agitation, he had "worked so hard to doing this for nothing!!"

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🎭 This guy did not want you to leave, but he had started respecting your decisions more as your relationship eased on

🎭 Just as you took your final steps towards the mirror/portal, his smile flipped upside down and he sighed, not even trying to look happy

🎭 Watching you leave hurt, and it hurt him bad. He never really got close with many people, as his emotional instability sent them swimming away

🎭 When Floyd turned around and heard the sound of glass bursting and falling onto the ground, he snapped his head towards you, believing something bad had happened

🎭 Seeing you just walk towards him with slightly bloody knuckles and a genuine smile, the same smile he had fallen in love with, it made him smile truly, not bothering it fake the eccentricity he was known for

" Floyd, my mer-eel, I will never leave you alone. " " Thank you, my dear S/O. "

[fangirldreams101]

Coming Home pt. 5

DBF! Daryl, Rick, Shane & Negan x Reader

TW: Severe age-gap, older men

Chapter Index

Rick cursed, going to shield you from Shane's sight with his body.

"What the fuck do you think yer doin?" he seethed at Shane's cocky smile.

Rick's rage skyrocketed as he noticed Shane's eyes glance at your body underneath before he shrugs, "You should be thankin' me. Her good ol' dad was gonna be the one to come in and check on ya'll. Givin how ya were lookin at her earlier, I kinda figured it'd be sumn like this."

"Thank you," Rick grit his teeth, "Now leave."

"Nah, I dun think so. What would good ol' dad say knowin' his friend was aboutta fuck his little girl? Dun think he'd be too happy about it, but that's jus me," Shane drawled, picking at his nails.

"Shane," your timid voice called out, still in shock over what just happened, "please don't tell him."

Shane's cocky demeanor softens at the sound of your voice, and he sighs, "Gorgeous, I wouldn't do that to ya. 'N Rick, stop standin' over her like a rabid dog and let her dress herself."

Rick practically growled at Shane's words, kind of proving his point. You gently tapped the man above you on the arm, a quiet signal that it was okay. Rick sighed, tucking himself back into his pants and helping you put your clothes back on while trying to protect you from Shane's unwavering gaze. It was no use however, Shane's dark gaze drunk in every ounce of exposed skin he could. You heard him take a sharp inhale of breath at the brief glimpse he got of your wet pussy. Rick also heard it, whipping around and glaring the younger man down.

Shane cleared his throat and motioned for you to grab the drinks. Rick snatched a few off the counter, the blue balls clearly bothering him, and you did as well, taking a few into your grip. You guys began to head out of the room with Shane the last one to leave, grabbing the remaining bottles and giving a small chuckle.

As you guys approached everyone else, your dad exclaimed, "The hell took you guys so long?"

You felt Rick freeze and Shane took a step forward about to speak up, when your voice sounded out, "I accidentally dropped 2 of the beers and they shattered on the ground. Rick was helping me clean up cause the glass got everywhere."

"Aw, you didn' get hurt, did you," your dad ask, concerned as Rick and Shane looked at you in astonishment, marveling at your quickly thought out lie.

"Nope," you said cheerfully, "everything is all good now. They were very...helpful!"

You all kept the façade up as you went to your seats and settled down. You tried to ignore the dampness between your legs and Daryl's curious gaze. Daryl's eyes kept switching between you, Rick, and Shane, but when Shane gives him a smirk, he scowls and goes back to eating. You all easily reenter the current conversations at the table and time goes by until the incident with Rick feels like a weird fever dream. Even though Rick caught you a bit off guard, you were super pleased to know that at least one of the men you were interested in was willing to get with you. You hoped that once the party was over, you'd be able to have a talk with him and maybe make it a reoccurring situation.

Dinner did eventually begin to die down, with the folks with children the first to head out. Next were the couples, tipsy and giggling amongst themselves, probably going home to have some fun. Everyone helped clean up after themselves before heading out, and eventually the remaining group went outside to the porch to rest. Your Dad was having a conversation with Morgan and the local priest, Gabriel. You decided that this would be the perfect time to go talk to Rick but as you went to find him among the remaining people, Daryl sought out your attention.

"Hey," his gruff voice called out, "gotta momen'?"

You sighed, "What's up, Daryl?"

"Ya migh' be able ta pull the wool over ya daddy's eyes, but don'cha lie ta me," he leaned in, "Wha were ya doin' w' Rick?"

Your face flushed and you harshly whispered, "None of your damn business."

"'m jus tryna look out for ya. I care about cha," he mumbled, his eyes searching your own.

You maintain eye contact, getting lost in his desperate gaze before huffing, "You had your chance."

Rage flared in Daryl, "The sunnabitch touch ya?"

His head whipped around, searching for the sheriff. You grab his arm roughly and bring his attention back to you.

"What I may or may not be doing with him is again, none of your business. Don't you dare start anything," you hissed.

Daryl blinked at you. Internally he was fuming, but seeing your angry gaze directed at him was enough to reel him back in. He nodded and you took that as your chance to leave. The porch surrounded the house so you went to go look for Rick at the sides but as you did, you bumped into another person you were trying to avoid,

Shane chuckled as he grabbed onto your arms, "Whoa there, gorgeous, where ya runnin' off to?"

"Shane please, let me be. It's embarrassing enough that you saw me... that way," you mumbled.

Shane leaned into your side, whispering into your ear, "Was it? Cuz I found you to be mighty damn cute."

He presses a fast and hard kiss to the side of your head, "If you ever want a real man to treat you good, I will never say no to someone as lovely as you, gorgeous.”

You stammer a little as Shane saunters off into the night, throwing a grin and wave.

Rick comes up behind you, "We need to talk."

You beam up at him and he feels a pang of guilt knock through him. You follow him and you both find a quiet nook.

"So I-," you both began, and you let out a light laugh, not noticing the grimace Rick had.

"You first," you smile but Rick shakes his head, indicating that you start.

"I, uh, really enjoyed what happened," you said bashfully, "and I was hoping we wouldn't let this be a one time thing?"

Your hopeful tone and shining eyes made Rick feel like the worst person in the world, and maybe he was.

He shakes his head sternly, "This can never happen again, (Y/N)."

You gaped at him, "W-what?“

”Yer dad is my friend, you could be my daughter's age. What I did was vile. I'm so sorry for doin' that to ya, w' what's been happenin' w' my ex-wife and the kids, it jus' took a toll, but it dun excuse my behavior. I should've never-"

"Enough," you sighed, "we did it. You didn't take advantage of me, I wanted it."

"I can't believe this is happening again," you murmured, running your hands through your hair.

Rick's brow furrowed, "Wha' was tha'?"

"Nothing. Forget it. Okay. That's fine. Have a good night, Sheriff."

You walked away, reentering the house and going straight to your room. After both Daryl AND Rick now rejecting you, you think you needed a break from older men.

Taglist: @eternalrose81

[tarithenurse]

The roommate - 2

Fandom: MCU. Pairing/starring: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader. Word count: 1322. Content: Major pining, slight drinking, confession, unprotected smut, [Y/N]. A/N: Couldn’t leave the first part stand alone so here’s a bit more. Please reblog and comment – it’s fuel! Unbetaed as usual.

2

The emptied boxes of the takeaway still litter the table, but you don’t pay them any mind as you’re nursing your glass of wine and listening intently to James. Bucky. You’ve never heard him speak this much before and you’re lapping it up, clinging to every word as he talks about the old days with Steve (which seems like a much too casual way to refer to Captain America), and the guys from the unit he was in: the Howling Commandos.

He isn’t talking about the missions or the danger. No, he’s telling a story about how Gabe Jones had had a crush on one of the ladies at a bar in a town they came through in France and how they’d made him confess to her.

“I guess my point is...when you know, you better go for it,” he muses.

You’ve kinda lost the thread but don’t mind to just nodding along as long as James will keep talking.

He pins you with a stare of those stormy eyes, a small smile pulling at one corner of his mouth. “So why haven’t you?”

“Why haven’t I what?” you try to catch up.

“Gone for it...with anyone?” Maybe he sees your confusion because he rushes to explain: “All the time I’ve lived here, you’ve never brought anyone home or gone to anyone.”

You shrug. “I don’t know...just haven’t...” You shrug en lieu of a better explanation. “But neither have you, so I guess I could ask you the same,” you point out.

He laughs at that. Not a big laugh, but a little half-scoff that sounds like he is all too aware of it. “Kinda hard to rejoin the dating-market at age 107 plus/minus depending on how you count the Blip years.” He takes a sip of his wine and then regards the liquid in the glass slosh as he sets it down. “Besides...I found someone but I’m not sure how to broach the subject with her.”

Something in you shatters but you quickly swipe the shards away, telling yourself that you should have known better.

Getting up and starting to collect the plates, you try to keep your voice light: “You just gotta tell her straight up. As you said...when you know you better go for it.”

You can sense your hands trembling and you’re glad for the cleaning up to hide it with.

“So just...listen, I really like you?” James says.

“Yeah, just like that.”

You’ve gathered up most and try not to run to the kitchen with it to hide. But of course James is James and as you should have expected, he grabs the rest and follows you.

Why does it even bother you? Sure, you’ve been increasingly friendly over the last year but...it’s always been platonic, right?

“[Y/N],” he says and you hum something in response. “[Y/N],” he tries again, “look at me.” You force yourself to do so and you see all of the tenderness of the man in his gaze as he repeats his words: “I really like you. You.”

“Me?”

He nods. Stepping closer, he lifts a hand to your cheek, slowly brushing the thumb along your cheekbone. Then he dips his head down and your lips almost meet but he pauses and whispers: “May I?”

“Mhm!” you whimper in acceptance, too nervous to breach the gap.

But he does. His beard scratches a bit and is a pleasant contrast to the softness of his lips and the gentle sweep of his tongue along the seam of your mouth. His left arm has snaked around your waist, pulling you closer, while the other hand tangles in your hair to tilt your head just right.

You’re out of breath when he pulls away slightly, looking down at you through heavy-lidded eyes.

Next thing you know he’s backed you up against the counter as he’s kissing you like a man starved. You’re not much more restrained yourself, responding eagerly and your hands sliding over every inch of his body you can reach before slipping up under his Henley to feel how his skin puckers at your touch.

“Careful, doll,” he mumbles, “might not be able to stop soon.”

This time you’re the one to pull back enough to look up at him. “I don’t want you to,” you admit.

His gaze darkens deliciously at your words.

It’s easy for him to push you against the counter, pinning you in place for a new onslaught of kisses that trail down your neck to your collarbones and the top of your breasts that are barely accessible if he tugs at your shirt. The shirt. Suddenly he’s pulling it over your head and you eagerly help him before mirroring his actions with him.

For a 107 year old guy he’s in excellent shape. Scratch that: he’s gorgeous. Letting your fingertips run over his chest, you see how his muscles bunch and coil as he moves to pull your leggings down so he can grab at the flesh of your ass. Big handfuls that lifts you up and next moment you’re on the counter and he’s standing before you. He pulls you to the very edge and gets rid of the leggings completely before slotting his hips between your legs which he lift to clamp around him and you’re so close that you can feel the bulge press against you.

Your hands move according to your desires, cupping him through the sweatpants and making him groan. He feels big.

“I should’ve taken you on dates first,” he manages to mutter. “Nice dinners. Really courted you.”

“There’s time for that later,” you smile, nibbling at his earlobe. “Now fuck me like you mean it.”

You only just have time to free his cock from the restraints before he’s torn your undies to shreds and pulled you so far out on the counter that you have to lean back or topple off. But he helps you, of course he does: getting your legs on his shoulders, he dives in to eat you out with gusto. His broad licks and flicks of the tip of the tongue has you moaning all too loudly after a short moment and when he growls into your pussy, the vibrations nearly send you over the edge.

“J-James,” you gasp.

He knows what you mean but he still takes his time to kiss his way up from the kneeling position. And he is slow as he runs the length of his cock between your folds, smearing it with your juices.

But then he slides in. He hasn’t prepared you so he feels massive but you take him eagerly, wanting him, needing him. Your cunt flutters around him and you’re both breathing heavily by the time he is fully seated within you. James gives you a moment before he pulls out and slides back in. He’s slow and deliberate. You can see on his face how hard it is for him to hold back like this.

“More,” you beg.

And he complies, speeding up to a deep pace that has you clinging on for dear life while you chant nonsense and your body is seizing as you cum hard, causing him to topple over as your insides clamp onto him.

“Fu-uck,” he groans, ramming as far as he can before stilling with the exception of the throbbing of his cock.

He doesn’t pull out until he’s carried you to the shower. Then he helps you undress completely and washes you down, using the lathering as an excuse for the two of you to explore each others’ bodies and getting wound up all over again.

---

His bed is a single so you’ve ended in your room, now he’s lying with you tugged into his side, an arm around your shoulders and his nose in your hair. You don’t think he’s asleep. But it feels...right. It feels good to just lie and be quiet with each other for a moment.

[usedtobethelegendcreator]

Why do I like Alastor?

Listen. When your therapist starts psychoanalyzing you and it sounds like an Alastor analysis, you gotta do some soul searching. So, I’m going to list off all of our similarities. This is going to be more unorganized than usual.

1. We like being in control:

We’re both puppeteers! We like having people obey us, not the other way around. We’re very anti-submission (my therapist’s word) and don’t like being told what to do. We don’t like having people more powerful than us in the room or even in the area, because something more powerful than us is something that can override our will—and, by extension, our comfort zone and boundaries.

When it comes to romantic relationships, the healthiest solution is to find someone who’s into being dominated. (Cough cough, Vox. I told you guys I write my own kinks.)

2. We have trouble feeling sympathy and empathy:

It’s something I had to practice, but I get the feeling Alastor never bothered. I’m not very good at it, either. Then again, I’m not killing people.

3. We have violent urges:

Yeah, that is very much a thing for me. The difference is that Alastor carries them out without remorse. I usually just ignore those thoughts, or try to think of something else.

4. We mostly stick to one era of music:

Alastor has the Jazz Age, I have the 2010s. Pretty much nothing after 2020 appeals to me, outside of fan songs.

5. We don’t have breakdowns often, but when we do, it’s wild:

Alastor monologued during his. I hyperventilate during mine and feel like I’m not inside my body. Like I said, it’s wild.

6. We pull our hair:

If my hands aren’t occupied, I’ll end up with a hairball in them. But the way Alastor was tugging? With those claws? Yeesh.

7. People see our rage as impotent:

Yes, this is about the people that think Alastor’s frustration with Lucifer was “pathetic”. Yes, that did hit a powerful nerve in me. If you yell right in my ear the moment you open the door, even if I don’t already know you’re the reason there are yearly mass murders, I will immediately hate you. And contrary to a lot of bad-faith fanfiction, buttering up our ego or something is not the solution. The best way to calm us down is to be taken seriously. With Alastor, of course, the ego thing will certainly help, but it’s not the root.

8. We feel impotent when we’re enraged:

This ties in with the last one. Alastor literally grows several hundred times in size when he’s truly angry, that’s pretty obviously a self-comforting action. If I’m bigger than them, they can’t hurt me. If I’m bigger than them, nothing at all can hurt me. That kind of thing.

9. We don’t like constant change:

Alastor’s outfit (which isn’t era-accurate, according to someone much more knowledgeable than I am) is evidence that he isn’t adverse to change as a whole, but someone like Vox is a constant source of anxiety for us. It’s very hard to keep up with something that’s always changing, and we can’t get our feet on the ground and a moment to breathe. I can change which jacket I wear, but never wearing the same jacket twice? Kill me now.

10. We put on a facade around people we want to be in the good graces of:

Alastor with the hotel residents, and me with pretty much everyone. This ‘facade’ I’m talking about isn’t necessarily a fake personality, it’s a facet of our real personalities that will best appeal to the people we’re talking to. That’s another thing my therapist brought up: I’m always putting on a mask, and there’s so many that no one knows who I really am. Hell, even I don’t know at this point. Alastor’s been putting on masks for over a century. I don’t think he knows anymore, either.

I think he thinks he knows who he is, but if someone poked a hole in that image of himself as the Radio Demon, he’d shatter as easily as glass. Because he’s not 100% evil, as much as he wants to be.

11. People think we’re a danger to others, even when we’re not:

*gestures to Vaggie* *gestures to the entire fucking fandom* *gestures to my mother* *gestures to unnamed family members that didn’t even have the guts to say it to my face* It sucks. Like, thank you for taking me seriously for once??? But also no.

12. We have dramatic body language to make up for stunted facial expressions:

Alastor has his eternal smile, and I have my eternal frown. The facial expressions thing was actually brought up by a previous therapist. I’ve had to throw my arms out like a theatre kid to make sure a family member knew I wasn’t being sarcastic…I’m not a theatre kid.

13. We switch between being extreme extroverts and extreme introverts:

I’ve said before that I’m low functioning in almost everything except social interaction. I can keep up with the fastest mouths and the longest-winded, but I’ll disappear for a week and only emerge for water. Meanwhile, Alastor keeps up his overly-cheerful facade up for the whole series and disappears for two episodes. And for seven years before that.

14. When people talk shit to us, we fly off the handle at the speed of light:

Husk in the hallway scene. Lucifer, period. Vox at the end of episode two. Everyone on Tumblr and Wattpad that’s ever picked a fight with me. That one anon in particular. The list goes on.

15. We have very stunted emotions, except for anger:

I don’t know why anger is an exception, either. But we don’t see any strong emotions from Alastor besides rage (and maybe amusement), so it’s clearly a thing for him too.

16. We enjoy the smell of death:

Death smells pretty nice, actually. There’s nothing quite like it. Alastor gets it. If anyone wants the full story of Larry the Rotting Deer Carcass, let me know. I’d love to tell it.

And that’s all I can think of right now. This definitely veered into a bit of character analysis for Alastor, but then again, I was analyzing myself, so that just proves my point.

[tiredmetalenthusiast]

To Start Anew (TF141xLATA!Reader) Ch.4

Whooo sorry for the wait ya’ll! Summer is kicking not only ass but my internet’s ass! Here is chapter 4! Ya gurl has a breakdown and the guys check in on her!

Warnings: Language, breakdown, crying.

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

The room was absolutely stunning! A veranda for you to sit and watch the sea, a short walk away from the room was the private beach, the bed was definitely big enough to fit two people and your brain suddenly can’t help but think of bringing someone into that bed for a night. You deserve to have fun while you’re here and you plan to!

The bathroom was pristine with a large tub, dark marble on the counters encompassed in tan wood. “I have to send a video to mom and dad!” You start up a video call with your family to show them the room and the view. “Oh honey it's beautiful! Such a lovely place to stay for 2 weeks!” “Oh I wanna see!” You hear your sister chime in the background before she crowds into the call. “The place has a private beach too and a pool with a restaurant next to it!”

”Well I’m more interested in the very handsome men hanging around by the pool!” You laugh as your mom and sister start to ogle the men and turn the phone away. “What!? I wasn’t done looking! No fair!” “I’m sure they don’t want someone gawking at them while they swim and relax!” “Well I mean, they are pretty good-looking. That big fella with the face mask looks like he could be a good time.” “OH MY GOD DAD!”

He laughs at your now red face as you distantly hear your sister say to have fun and to let her know all the dirty details if you snag one of the men. “No! Jesus Christ they’re on leave! I don’t wanna bother them! They are nice because we chatted at the airport but they came to relax!” “Well dear I don’t think they’d be too opposed to…having some fun as well if you catch my drift!” “Perverts all of you! I’m gonna take a shower and take a nap!” Your family laughs before wishing you well with a promise to call later.

Sighing, you hook your phone into the charger and grab a change of clothes. You definitely need a nice hot bath and a nap, you deserve it. As you undress and step into the hot water, you feel the tension leaving you all at once, practically sinking into the tub. The groan that leaves your throat is nothing short of graphic. ‘I really needed this.’ The thought comes fast and the tears follow as you fall into your sad thoughts again, it was only a day ago after all since the worst day of your life happened.

“Stupid fuckin bastard! If he didn’t want to get married why the fuck did he propose?!” The tears are cool as they stream down your cheeks as opposed to the heat surrounding your body. “Should have fuckin known.” A shudder runs through you as a sob breaks past your throat and you scrub at the tears to get them to stop, though it is futile. You sit and cry in the tub for a good while before calming down enough to clean yourself and rinse off before stepping out.

As you wrap yourself in the fluffy bathrobe you remember that you wanted to order champagne. Just as your hand is on the phone you think mimosas sound a lot better and order the champagne and oj to be sent to your room with the engraved glasses his dad had ordered. Maybe you could just break his, maybe you could use it as a weird roleplay toy, the possibilities are there and ultimately you decide against the roleplay usage and plan to just shatter it if they bring it.

-With the guys-3rd person-

It was still bright outside as the 141 men were enjoying the pool at the hotel. “Do ye ken the little lady is okay?” Gaz sips his drink as he shakes his head, “Nah mate I don’t think so. She still seemed pretty pissed when she was talking to us about it at the airport.” The other three nod in agreement. Becoming alert at the sudden sounds of yelling and shattering glass.

They turn towards the woman’s room. She’s standing, that much they can tell, her sobs however are loud and they continue to watch as she falls to her knees. Her wails of sorrow are not for their viewing pleasure and they really should be minding their business. “Alright time to go see if she’s okay.” Price stands from his lounge chair, drinking down the last of his whiskey before making his way to her room.

It almost seems concerning for the four of them that anyone can access someone else’s room simply by walking far enough. Simon, Johnny, and Gaz follow suit. As they approach they see her seated on her bed, wine glass in hand as she scrubs at her eyes. “Everythin a’right?” The suddenness of Simon’s voice startles her as she shoots up, almost spilling her wine on her dress.

”Woah, woah, easy. Sorry for the fright, we just heard the yelling and the glass shatter. Wanted to make sure you were good.” They watch her take deep, calming breaths. “Oh my god! You guys scared the shit out of me!” Hand on her chest as she calms down, sniffling as she takes a sip of her drink. “So…are ye alright?” She sighs and sits again.

She gestures for them to sit as well and they all grab chairs. “Uh…yeah. Yeah I think I’m good now. Sorry for the uh, noise. Just working through the emotions.” Simon looks around the room. Nothing looks broken as far as the decor goes. “What broke then?” She looks at an empty corner of the room, broom leaning next to it. “Oh that. My ex’s dad paid for engraved wine glasses and I…decided to break his. Felt good.” The guys nod in understanding before they see realization cross her face.

”God I’ve been so fuckin rude to you guys since we met. Dumping all my trauma on you, being overly cautious of you guys. Fuck I’m not even a good host! Do you guys want a drink or something?” The concern is so real on all four of the guys’ faces it seems to stall her, the steam running out of her as she puts her glass down and puts her hands in her face. “Ya wanna talk about it?” She shakes her head. “No. No it’s fine I…I’ve impeded enough. Sorry for the noise guys, I’ll try to be quieter. Was getting ready to leave anyway to go explore.”

She gets up or wash her face and apply her makeup. “Okay welp…see you guys later? Have fun with your stay!” The guys stand stunned as the door closes behind her, before they shake it off and head back for the pool.

Tag list: @cumikering @devcica @catmouseggy

[thewulf]

Flatter Me || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Please do a Jake x reader where it’s angsty then fluffy! Like the reader likes jake and jake likes reader but they both are like “oh no how couldn’t they ever like me” so there’s an event and they decide to go together as friends cause they both don’t have a date but maybe reader was talking to rooster and thought it seemed flirty.. Read Rest Here

A/N: Loved writing this one! Just love fluffy Jake really :)

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 2.7k +

“You were unbelievable! You are unbelievable.” Jake shot you a wink across the table after recalling some of his favorite memories in the Navy. The group of you had all just been inducted as instructors at Top Gun after passing all the tests and flight sims you needed to. It wasn’t easy. Probably one of the toughest things you had to do so far. But you’d all passed. Naturally. You were the best of the best.

“You flatter me Seresin.” You held up your beer to his before taking a quick sip of the cool liquid polishing off the glass.

He tilted his head taking a long look at you before responding, “The truth darlin’.” He let his accent draw out knowing you loved it making that very clear. You and Jake had run in’s throughout the years but never actually got to know each other until last year when you were moved to his base. You’d surprisingly gotten along right at the get go.

He only ever gave compliments to you. He made sure to look out for you. He adored you. You quickly found a way to weasel a way into his heart shattering that imagine of Hangman he so desperately tried to portray. You’d slipped right through the mask seeing him for him. Jake. Your Jake. Your favorite guy.

Shaking your head, you bit your bottom lip lightly not having a clue what you were doing to him, “You have a date to the ball yet?” You lost your confidence and sounded like a middle school girl trying to chat with her crush. You’d prayed he’d say no. He always said no. He wasn’t the ‘dating’ type. Or so, he always told you. That’s why you held back. Too scared to admit any sort of romantic feeling towards the man. You were terrified he’d high tail it in the opposite direction. Instead of freaking him out you’d just keep your lips sealed. Easy enough, right?

He shook his head, “Not yet.” He sighed taking a peek at you. He wanted to take you more than anything. He had been stalling unsure of how to ask you. He wanted to take you as more than friends, but he too was terrified of losing you. He knew that logically, that’d never happen. But things always changed when feelings were admitted to, “You?”

You sighed, “I think I’m going to have to ask somebody at this rate Jake. Not a guy has even looked at me.” It’d never bothered

Oh, how wrong you were. So, so wrong. But the guys knew that you were his girl. He’d made that adamantly clear. And he panicked. He panicked seeing the sadness you were trying so desperately to hide from him.

“Come with me.” He spit out.

Raising a brow, you leaned your elbows on the table using your palms to rest your chin, “Go on.”

He mimicked your actions. His eyes danced from yours down dangerously close to your lips then right back up, “I’ll take you to the Navy Ball. As friends. If you want.”

Damn. You’d gotten your hopes up with that one for a second too long, “As friends. Yeah.” You responded not knowing you’d just reinforced that for him in his own mind. The two of you playing a cruel game with the other and not even knowing it.

“Great.” He nodded giving your wrist a light tap, “It’s a date.”

The grin that erupted on your face couldn’t be stopped, not even if you tried. You didn’t try, “It’s a date Jakey boy.”

He rolled his eyes at that nickname. Only you were allowed to call him anything other than Hangman, really. But you pushed it with that one. No matter how soft his heart had really gone for you, “What color is your dress sweetheart?”

Your eye twitched at that new one. It was always darling with you. He’d never thrown out a sweetheart in all the time you’d known him, “A light blue.” You fished your phone out to show him a picture from the website.

He took a quick look before turning his eyes back up to you, “You’ll look beautiful in that darlin’.” He was laying it on thick now.

“Guess you’ll have to wait and see. “Smiling warmly at the handsome pilot you turned towards the group that had begun chatting amongst themselves knowing you and Jake were going to be off in your own little world anyway.

“I’m out. Anybody need another?” A round of no’s followed by Jakes shaking head had you strolling up to the bar alone with your empty glass.

You’d been so caught up watching the people across the bar you hadn’t even seen Bradley stroll right up to you, “Would you look what the cat dragged in.”

You snapped your attention to the much taller dark-haired pilot, “Bradley!” You gave him a one-armed hug squeezing him tight not knowing you had a pair of eyes focused intently on the interaction.

“Congrats on making it in.” he smirked knowing he’d been induced six months prior. He’d never seemed to let you, or Jake live it down. He was the first to make it in.

“You finally got some competition huh?” You grinned knowing how to get right under his skin.

He laughed flicking you in the arm, “You can say that.”

You cooed placing a gentle hand on his arm. Mocking him absolutely. But that’s not what Jake saw, “It’s okay Bradley. You can give compliments. It won’t kill you.”

He grumbled, “That you know of.” Grabbing his beer he motioned you along, “Come on. Seresin’s been staring me down since I walked over to you.”

You grabbed it before shoving him lightly, “Shut up Bradshaw.”

He shook his head quickly, “I didn’t say anything. But you just did.” He shot you a wink before walking to the other side of the table. When you sat back down Jake was looking down and away. He was oddly quiet the rest of the night even as you finalized the plans to go to the Navy Ball, as friends. Friends. Friends don’t feel the way you do about him. Fuck being friends.

You were always busy anymore, especially during the work week. So was Jake. So, you didn’t think too much of it when the two of you had barely communicated before the Ball. Little did you know he was trying to avoid you at all costs. He couldn’t be around you. You liked Bradley and he couldn’t take it. You never looked at him like you did Bradshaw at the bar. Eyes fluttering and your mouth bursting with giggles, cute as hell. Fucking Bradshaw was going to take his girl. How in the hell had he managed to get your sweet, sweet attention. Jake swore he was the least deserving of the group to get your attention.

So, he did what he did best and bolted from his problems. Avoided. He’d even found a new date for the Navy Ball. Convincing himself that it’d be for the best. You liked somebody else. You didn’t want to go with him to the Ball, as friend. When he didn’t hear back from you after he swore that he texted you he got a little worried but didn’t think too much of it. You were known for opening texts and responding days later. Maybe you were on a mission to find another date to the ball, Bradshaw probably. Fucking Bradshaw.

But Jake was an idiot. He never sent a text. Letting you get ready, drive to the venue and wait. Wait on his stupid ass. You sat at the gazebo in front of the venue waiting. Watching. Waiting and watching and starting to feel a little more apprehensive the longer it took for him to get there. You waved as the other men and their wives and girlfriends walked on in. You hid your sadness as Bradley passed by with the prettiest girl on his arm. You pulled out your phone. No text, no call. You could call him, but it just didn’t feel right. Something was wrong. You’d missed something.

What you weren’t ready for was Jake showing up thirty minutes after you’d planned with a beautiful girl on his arm. A beautiful girl in a light blue dress. You’d felt paralyzed. Maybe he wouldn’t look. Maybe you’d just be able to slip on out after another little bit. Once everybody had arrived. Fuck. What in the hell was happening?

“Y/N?” That familiar voice rang out breaking you from the spiral your mind was going on.

You sprung from your seat brushing the icy blue dress down, “Jake, where’ve you been?” Wide eyes looked at him as his kind eyes brushed over your features. He knew you saw the girl behind him. He saw the panic on your face. The wobble in your voice. The telltale signs you were about to cry. Shit. Did he send the text? He could’ve sworn he did.

“Y/N, I texted you. I found another date.”

You stepped back feeling the stone-cold dagger rip right through your heart. It was beating so damn fast it was hard to even think of a sentence in your head, so you shook your head instead. Shook it quickly buying yourself time, “I didn’t get a text.” Looking down you sucked in a heart breath. Breathe. You had to breathe. It was fine, a simple miscommunication.

He stepped forward feeling a similar pang through his own heart. Double shit, “I’m so sorry.” His heart was going to shatter when you stepped back again. You never ever ran from him.

“It’s okay. I should go. Enjoy your date.” You slipped out down the stairs behind you. Thanking the Lord that there were two sets of steps, and you could finally just run away from him. How fucking mortifying. Why would Jake like you? He wasn’t the dating type. He was Jake fucking Seresin. The playboy extraordinaire.

You dapped the inner corner of your eye trying to stop the inevitable waterworks that would commence once you got home. But Jake was quicker, “Woah, woah. Hold on.” Gently, he grabbed your elbow pulling you to a stop, “You can stay. You still have a ticket.” He tried to remind you feeling awful about it all. You weren’t finding another date. You were waiting on him.  

You shook your head quickly, “I don’t want to.”

“Why not?” He wouldn’t let you go. Even when you tugged a little.

“Jake. Just let me go home.” A single tear spilled down

“Y/N…” He looked into your eyes for something. Anything. But it was all sadness. Such sadness that he caused.

You yanked yourself away from him, “For the record. I didn’t want to just go as friends.” You let another tear fall before hightailing it to your car. Peeling out of the lot before he could even really process what the hell you’d just told him.

He ran to his date muttering a quick apology before handing her the tickets telling her to enjoy herself before getting the hell out of there. He had to get to you. You didn’t like Bradshaw. You liked him? Fuck. He groaned before throwing himself into his car and driving right to your place.

He knocked. And called. And knocked some more. You knew he had a key. He could use it but he was waiting on you. You decided to let him sit there for a good thirty minutes of incessant banging and calling before you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Would you shut the hell up?” You pursed your lips studying the handsome man before you.

His eyes went wide not thinking you’d actually answer, “Y/N I’m…”

“Annoying as hell.” You went to shut the door, but he stopped you. Stepping inside quickly, “I didn’t invite you inside Seresin.”

He grimaced knowing you were livid. You’d have every right to be. He was pissed with himself for being such an ass to you. His girl, “We need to talk. Can’t do

“We don’t.” He studied you. His heart ached as he saw the tears staining your beautiful makeup. Beautiful no matter what.

He sighed taking your hand, “Yes we do. Come on.” He pulled you to the couch. You’d just gone with it knowing it’d be now or tomorrow with Jake. There was no avoiding the rejection that was incoming. You gave yourself a little distance between the two of you.

You just felt like arguing at this point. You didn’t really need to pick a fight but here you were, “I said…”

He interrupted you before you could pick that argument completely though, “Do you like Bradshaw?” He knew you didn’t. But he needed to hear you confirm it.

Making a nasty face you responded to him, “Bradley? Ew. I don’t fucking like Bradshaw. Are you kidding me? He’s like my brother.” You fake gagged before crossing your arms over your chest. Was that what this was all about?

“But at the bar.” His heart dropped to his ass as he processed your words. You didn’t like Bradshaw?

You shook your head confused as ever, “You’re going to have to elaborate Jake.”

He waved his hand, “Never mind.” He’d really fucked this one up. How had he managed to do that so quickly? This was why he didn’t do relationships. This right here.

He did know one thing though. You were worth it. Whatever it was you needed to gain his trust that he brutally shattered in one moment. He knew you were worth whatever fight he needed to fight. He wasn’t a relationships kind of guy, but he would be with you. He wanted to be with you. He loved you.

You interrupted his thoughts with your own rambling, “That’s so gross Jake. Can’t believe you would even think that Jake Seresin! He’s…”

“I like you.” He interrupted your ramblings knowing

You snapped your neck so fast towards him he thought it’d give you whiplash, “What?”

Smiling he reached a handout for yours, which you’d never deny. Your heart fluttered as he laced his fingers within yours making sure to rub the back of your hand with his thumb, “You heard me sweetheart. I like you.”

“Oh, you do?” You couldn’t quite believe your ears right now. Jake liked you? The guy who didn’t do relationships? Now, what in the hell could that mean.

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, “I do. A whole lot.” His eyes bounced around your face as you took in his words.

After a moment that felt far too long to him you let out a beautiful smile. The smile that pulled him right into you, “I like you too. A whole lot.”

This time it was his turn to look surprised, “You do?” He was mocking you at this point and you knew it. But it didn’t

“Asshole.” You shoved his shoulder lightly with your free hand that he caught with his own free hand far too easily.

“But I’m your favorite asshole, right?” He grinned leaning down and placing a gentle kiss to the back of your hand.

You shook your head, “You’re on the shortlist Jake.”

He chuckled looking at you softly. Softer than any expression you’d seen on the man prior, “I’ve never told you how truly beautiful you are Y/N.” He smiled seeing your expression of adoration as you listened to him, “Inside and out I’ve never met a more amazing person before. I like you a whole lot. I think I’m falling in love with you if we’re being honest here.” He let spill out before he could reign it in.

You wiped away the tears that were threatening to spill, “You flatter me Seresin.” Shaking your head, you buried your head in the crook of his neck wrapping your arms around him tightly. He responded by doing the same, pulling you into his lap completely. Oh, how he’d dreamed of this for a while. Dreamed of holding you in his arms.

“You deserve it sweetheart.” He brushed a hair out of your face once you looked back up to him.

You grinned not really believing this was happening after so long of pining for your friend. You’d all but given up at this point but here he was confessing his feelings so freely, “Would you kiss me?” You asked hoping you’d never wake from this dream turned reality.

His smile could’ve lit up an entire room, “I thought you’d never ask darlin’.”

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