#forward landing gear

[sw5w]

Royal Cruiser Landed

STAR WARS EPISODE II: Attack of the Clones 00:03:01

[navybrat817]

why is Thunderbolts Bucky so 🥵🥵🥵 please eat me up

I agree, nonnie!

Eat You Up

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky comes home after a mission and wastes no time making up for the time apart.

Word Count: Over 1.7k

Warnings: Established relationship, oral sex (f. receiving), light dirty talk, mention of cockwarming, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Sorry, lovelies. I was inspired. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“Just landed. Safe and sound. Tough mission, but successful. Missed you. Be home soon.”

You reread the message, your heart rate picking up. Bucky had been away on a mission for a few days and couldn't reach out much. God, you missed him so much. Knowing now that your man would be home soon where he belonged, you let out a breath of relief and smiled.

You rushed to your bedroom and wasted no time getting ready for his arrival. The message was to the point: He was safe and sound, no injuries, and a tough mission meant he’d need some stress relief. Why not let him play with the person he missed most?

Your heart raced when you heard the footsteps outside of the bedroom door, waiting in anticipation in the middle of the bed. In a few moments, you two would reconnect. Being without him in your home for a few days left you longing. You missed his smile. His dry humor. The sight of him reading a book in his favorite chair. You missed all of him.

Bucky slowly pushed the door open, and you lost your breath when he met your gaze. The heat in the room spiked, but you shivered, your body suddenly feeling cold after days without his touch. His massive build took up most of the doorframe and he was still in his black tactical gear, a fingerless glove covering his right hand. Your beautiful soldier looked like he was still on a mission, his shoulders tight and jaw clenched.

And you didn't have a stitch of clothing on, your legs open and ready for him to do whatever he wanted.

His eyes darkened as they scanned your body, his breathing ragged. Whether it was from the mission or the relief of being back with you, the tension thickened in the air. His gaze paused at the juncture between your legs, his breath catching as he took in the sight of you, before he growled, “Look at you. Such a sight to come home to.” Stepping forward, his voice thick with desire, he added, “I could just eat you up.”

The room seemed to shrink as he stepped closer. His eyes never left you as he closed the distance, his gaze filled with adoration and hunger, his presence overwhelming. Everything about him was overwhelming in the best possible way. Your heart raced as he crawled on the bed, but you didn’t flinch. You were ready for him.

“If that's what you need, Sergeant,” you breathed, a teasing challenge in your smile. He exhaled sharply as you slid a hand down your torso, his chest rising and falling faster, as if he was holding himself back from taking you right then and there. “Then you'll get it.”

You could handle whatever he craved... and more. Maybe you'd make him beg for it for once the way you begged so many times before. No. You wouldn't be cruel enough to make him beg. At least not tonight. Not when you both needed it.

“Trying to touch what’s mine?” He grabbed your wrist before your fingers could reach home, your skin warm under his gentle grip. He was one of the most powerful men you knew, someone with enough strength to rip you in half if he wished, but he would never use his strength to hurt you. “You miss me?” The ache in his voice was more than desire. It was longing.

“I won't touch. It’s all yours.” Your chest tightened when he released your wrist, your eyes suddenly burning with unshed tears, your hands itching to feel his body and know for certain he was really there with you. “I always miss you when you're gone.”

You didn't like eating meals alone now since you had come to expect easy and tough conversations as the two of you moved around the kitchen and sat at the table. You enjoyed exploring your surroundings together, but craved nights cuddled up together on the couch as the television played in the background. Building a home with the ex-assassin was a dream come true.

He hovered over you and tilted your chin, giving you a second to take a breath, before he leaned down and claimed your mouth in a feverish kiss. The ferocity made you gasp, your arms wrapping around him to hold him close. Your nipples brushed against his shirt as you deepened the kiss, desperate and needy. The kiss was a promise, expressing everything you wanted to say before the night was over.

That you loved him, that he was all you needed, that your house was a home because he was back with you.

His hair fell in his face as he broke the kiss and moved his gloved hand between your legs. You mewled when he teased your slit, his stare as seductive as his touch. You rolled your hips up, seeking out more friction, wanting him to make good on his promise to eat you up.

“I missed you,” he whispered, gliding down your body with the grace of a large cat. The muscles in his back rippled as his shoulders spread you open for him, your hands gripping the sheets to keep you from grinding against his face. “And I missed this. Your taste. Your smell. Your sounds.”

You whimpered when his nose brushed your clit. “Bucky, please,” you begged, his hands taking hold of your hips and digging in. And here you thought neither of you would beg tonight.

But Bucky Barnes wasn't a heartless man. He showed mercy when he had to, which was why he took pity and licked a stripe up your pussy with a groan. Flames spread along your body as you threw your head back and moved your hands to grip his hair. He ate pussy skillfully, effortlessly, and all you could do was hold on and ride out the waves of ecstasy.

“Good girl. So beautiful. And all mine,” he murmured before he shoved his tongue inside your hole, your eyes rolling back and mouth parting. Your super soldier had his head buried between your legs like he never wanted to leave.

“I… Oh, fuck!” you cried, his gloved hand reaching up to toy with your breast. His fingers teased your nipple, his metal thumb rubbing your clit, and you couldn't stop yourself from pushing your hips closer. You had no shame in humping his face as his tongue moved along your sensitive walls, his beard leaving the most delicious burn with each movement.

And if you smothered your lover with your cunt tonight, he’d proudly saunter up to the gates of whatever heaven you sent him to with a smile.

He pulled his tongue out, his mouth sucking on the swollen bundle of nerves as your thighs trembled. You lifted your head high enough to catch the feral look in his eyes. Pleasure climbed within you so quickly it left you dizzy. “Such a pretty pussy. Should write poems about it.”

“Oh, God,” you moaned, your head falling back again, heat filling your body.

“My name,” he growled, pushing two metal fingers into your wetness and pumping fast, knowing you wouldn't last much longer. You were right on the edge, ready to fall. He’d be there to catch you. “Say my name when you come.”

You didn't say his name as his tongue entered you once more. You shouted it, chanted it like a prayer, and soaked his mouth with your juices. He moaned as you fluttered around his tongue, and he continued to lap at you, trying to drink down every drop. He swept you up in waves of bliss and you were lucky you didn't drown.

Sparks still burst behind your eyes as he sat back to admire his work, making you clench around nothing as he licked his lips. You held out your arms with a whine, needing him close once again as you came back to yourself. He stretched out on top of you and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, your essence lingering on his. Your hands roamed where they could reach and it sent a thrill through you when he moaned.

“Hi,” he whispered after a moment, smiling and making your heart pound all over again.

“Hi,” you sighed, shutting your eyes and smiling, too, when he kissed each eyelid. You were lucky enough to witness this soft side of him, trusted enough for him to be vulnerable.

“You okay?” He kissed your forehead this time.

“Better than okay. You’re home,” you replied, breathing him in before you opened your eyes. Your heart stopped momentarily under his soft gaze. “Are you okay?”

He was the one out there fighting to keep the world safe. Not only that, he still fought the demons of his past from time to time. It wasn't fair, but you were there to help as you could.

“I’m good, doll. I’m home. Everything I need is right here,” he said, rocking his hips. You moaned when you felt how hard he was through his pants. He deserved to feel good. “And we have some lost time to make up for, so no falling asleep on me.”

“Lost time? It was only a few days,” you teased, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear when he huffed.

“A few days too many,” he said, not teasing at all as he leaned up to unbuckle his belt. “Drives me crazy being apart from you.” He would never leave you if he didn't have to.

“I know. I was just teasing. We can make up for every second you were away,” you assured him, knowing he wasn't done with you tonight by a long shot. You were fine with that since you wanted him just as badly as he wanted you. “Bucky?”

He paused before he could push his pants down. “Yeah, doll?”

You traced a heart on his forehead, wanting to erase the pain he endured and replace it with only good things. “I love you.”

He blinked the mist from his eyes and leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours. “I love you, too.”

When you finally fell asleep the following morning with his cock buried deep inside you, he whispered again that he loved you and that he couldn't wait to eat you up all over again once you woke up.

That's two back-to-back Bucky fics in a little over 29 hours from me with him being in love and not afraid to eat you like his last meal. 😂 Are you lovelies sick of me by now? I hope not. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[wannab-urs]

Title: Handlebars

Pairing: Logan Howlett x f!reader

Summary: Logan teaches you to ride a motorcycle.

Warnings: smut, public/semi-public sex, overstimulation, i know nothing about motorcycles, Logan picks up the reader but he’s a mutant and is superhumanly strong so like… he could pick you up babe, pet names (baby), somewhat dom!Logan but that’s not explicit he’s just bossy, no use of y/n. WC: 1.2k

A/N: This is based on a dream I had because, yes, the brainrot is that bad. Thanks to @pr0ximamidnight for the encouragement to write it and the advice along the way.. And thanks to @just-here-for-the-moment for the beta <3. This is my first ever Logan fic and my first ever non-pedro boy fic as well, so forgive me if it’s OOC or weird.

Logan Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

Logan is teaching you to ride a motorcycle. You’ve always been fascinated by them, but the sight of him straddling one really sealed the deal. He looks gorgeous, powerful thighs astride the gently roaring machine. He leans back, gesturing for you to climb on in front of him. 

You throw your leg over carefully and settle onto the bike. His thighs bracket yours and his chest is pressed snugly against your back. It’s already getting dark out, and you’d be worried about driving at night if it wasn’t for the reassuring weight of him behind you. He slides his hands down from your shoulders to your hands and gently places them on the handle bars. 

“I’ll take care of shifting the gears this time, you just focus on the throttle.” You’re not sure you can focus on anything with him this close, but you nod anyway. 

He kicks up the kickstand and starts walking the bike backward onto the road. You hold on for dear life. He shifts the gears as he helps you turn the throttle. You’re nervous as hell, but he keeps a steady grip on your hands. You start to settle into the feeling of driving and your mind drifts. You think about his body pressed against yours, about the steady vibration of the motor between your legs, and you start squirming. 

It’s dark out and you can barely see a thing outside of the range of the headlight. But you feel everything, almost as if your senses are heightened. You grind against his erection, inadvertently pressing your clit harder against the seat and you whimper. 

“Pull over,” he growls in your ear. 

You nod, his nose brushing your neck, and slow down. You guide the bike into a seemingly abandoned parking lot. Logan turns the bike off and drops the kickstand. He pulls you tight against his body. 

“Are you gonna let me fuck you right here? Out in the open?”

“Please,” you whine. 

“Lean forward,” he commands, his voice so low you barely hear him. 

You lean forward, lifting your hips. You hear him unsheathe a claw and you tense slightly. He carefully slices a hole in your leggings and panties, exposing you to the night air. 

“I liked these, Logan.”

“I’ll buy you more.” That’s all the warning you get before he sheathes his claw and buries two fingers inside you. 

You cry out, gripping the handlebars hard. He steadies you with a gentle grip on your waist while he fucks his fingers in and out of you, You’re soaking wet and already desperate, grinding down on his fingers. His hand on your waist slips down and finds your bundle of nerves. Your left hand drops from the handlebars to grip his wrist as his fingers circle your clit. Your fingernails dig in hard enough to leave marks on anyone but him and your cunt pulses around his thick digits. He hits the spongy part deep inside you, making you shake and whine as you come on his fingers. 

While you catch your breath, Logan unzips his jeans. He grips your waist in his huge hands and lifts you with his superhuman strength, easily spearing you on his cock. Even with the preparation, he stretches you almost painfully. Your hands search for something, anything, to hold on to and land on the handlebars again. After giving you a moment to adjust, he starts bouncing you on his cock. You moan loudly and his grip on you tightens. 

“Feel good, baby? Filthy thing, riding me out in the open like this.”

You aren’t capable of speaking, not with his cock hitting you so deep inside. You’re not really riding him so much as he’s using you like a fleshlight. Your eyes roll back into your head as you come on his cock. He doesn’t stop bouncing you until your cunt stops clenching around him. His hand presses firmly in the middle of your back, pushing you forward until your head is past the handlebars. 

“Give me one more,” he orders. “Not done with you yet.”

You’re powerless to deny him, and really you’d give him anything he asked for. He wraps one arm around your waist and brings the other hand to your clit again. He pounds up into you, setting a brutal rhythm and hitting a spot that makes your vision white out. You cling to the handlebars for stability, crying out as his tip hits your cervix. You tense up in his arms, whole body going taut with ecstasy.  

“That’s it baby, come for me,” he growls. 

The rolling waves of pleasure feel endless, still speared on Logan’s cock as he fucks into your clenching pussy. His grip on you tightens impossibly, bruisingly as he floods your cunt with his cum. You cry out, writhing in his arms. When you finally come down, Logan’s strong arms pull you back against his chest. Your head lolls back onto his shoulder.

“Are you okay, baby?” Logan’s voice is tinged with worry. 

You nod weakly and mumble a yes into the chilled air. 

“Did I hurt you?”

“Mm mm,” you slowly shake your head from side to side. He didn’t hurt you, you’re just completely overwhelmed. 

He gently lifts you off his slowly softening cock, keeping an arm around you as he tucks himself away. He holds you tight against him until you eventually come back down to earth. You press a chaste kiss to his neck and nuzzle against him a bit before sitting up. You grip the handlebars again and wince as your oversensitive clit presses into the seat. 

“You sure you’re alright?” Logan asks, lifting the kickstand and starting the bike up. 

You whimper as the vibrations of the motor course through your body but bite your lip and nod.

“Hang on tight, baby. I’ll get us home.” You can almost hear Logan’s smirk.

Again nestled between Logan’s thick thighs and pressed firmly against his broad chest, but now with your bare cunt pressed into the seat of the bike, the ride home is absolute, exquisite torture. You can feel his cum leaking out of you, making a mess of what remains of your leggings and the seat beneath you. You’re shaking by the time you make it back to your apartment. 

Logan parks the bike and shuts it off. He climbs off and helps you to your feet. You stumble a little but manage to stay upright with his help, giggling to yourself at your jello legs. You unlock the door of your apartment and you’ve barely stepped inside before Logan sweeps you off your feet. 

“I can walk, Logan. Seriously, I’m fine.”

He huffs and carries you to the bedroom. “I know, but I want to take care of you.”

He lays you gently on the bed, unlaces and removes your boots, and strips off your ruined leggings. Left only in a t-shirt, you watch him methodically remove his clothing and admire his thickly muscled torso. The smattering of hair on his broad chest glinting silver in the moonlight – he’s so perfectly gorgeous you can hardly stand it. 

He crawls into bed beside you and pulls you against his chest. He grabs your thigh and pulls it across his body so that you’re nearly laying on top of him. He presses a kiss to the top of your head and you fall asleep in his arms, wondering if he’ll make you clean the bike seat tomorrow.

part two

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

I was wondering if you could do a fic where the reader is pregnant with Aegons baby but when he usurps the throne she and Jace pretend the baby is his so she doesn’t have to face consequences for sleeping with Aegon 🫶🏼

I'm back from my trip and back to writing/posting!! I hope you enjoyed the requests I had queued while I was away

Warnings: mention of pregnancy

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Standing in your nightgown, you looked down where your belly would swell very soon, your hand covering the slightest curve. A babe was growing there. A little babe with white hair and dark eyes, like the one in your dream. A perfect mix of you and Aegon. 

You’ve known for two moons that you were with child, but had not been able to tell anyone. When your bloodmoon was late, you thought of going to King’s Landing and tell Aegon in person, but the King drew his last breath and the Greens usurped your mother’s throne before you could get on your dragon. 

You’ve been hiding your secret under your clothes, but your belly was starting to grow and show through your looser dresses. You could no longer keep your pregnancy a secret. 

The issue was, you could not tell Aegon. The Greens would make the babe a part of the war and tell their supporters that Rhaenyra was keeping Aegon from his child, and you didn’t wish that. You wanted this unborn babe to be safe. 

So you told Jacaerys. 

There is nothing Jacaerys would not do to protect his twin sister. He would throw himself in front of a fire to shield you and commit war crimes for you. 

You jumped when you heard another knock on your door, immediately removing your hand from your belly. You assumed it was one of the servants asking if you wanted your evening meal brought up to your chamber, but the knock was different. Special. 

‘’Come.’’ You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, erasing all traces of tears.

The door opened and Jacaerys stepped in, dressed in his riding gear. You could smell the dragon from across the room, meaning he must have been in Vermax’s company. 

‘’Have you spoken to Mother about my plan?’’ he asked after closing the door. ‘’I know we said we would never wed each other, but I see no other option than to claim the babe as mine.’’ 

As he spoke of the babe in your belly, your hand fell to protectively lay over your stomach as it was before Jacaerys came in. You shook your head, and he noticed the tear stains on your face and the signs or irritation around your eyes.

A pained look crossed his face.  ‘’Have you been crying?’’ 

You turned your head away from him, confirming his guess. 

‘’Sister...’’ His voice was gentle as he stepped forward, a soft hand being placed over your hip, but you shrugged him off, refusing to look him in the face. ‘’I promised I would protect you and the babe. You need not to worry anymore.’’

You shake your head, the tears already welling in your eyes again. ‘’What if the babe has white hair? How will we explain that to the realm, Jace?’’ 

‘’We’ll say nothing. Like Mother did when we came out of her womb with dark hair,’’ he replied. 

‘’I refuse for my child to have their legitimacy put into question and live through the same accusations we went through as children.’’

Your little affair with Aegon was a secret to most. All thought that you were just close, not close. If a babe with white hair came out of your womb, Alicent will know. She will either request Aegon to claim the bastard child or have the babe slain so, in case it was a boy, you would not try to claim the throne.

You felt sick at the thought of the latter. Aegon would never allow the death of his child. He loved you.

Jacaerys pulled you into an embrace, no words coming out of his mouth. He let you bury your head in his shoulder and silently cry for as long as you needed. 

‘’I won’t let it happen,’’ he assured, feeling the soft curve of your belly pressing against his stomach. ‘’No matter what anyone says or does, I promise I will always be by your side, raising, loving and defending this babe as strongly as I would defend you. I will never allow anyone to harm him or her.’’

—

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[gravegoer]

Hiii! English is not my first language so please forgive any mistakes. Could you do an imagine of Sevika where the reader and her have been together for a long time, and the reader almost dies in battle? (Like, she got shot in a place that bleeds a lot, which makes Sevika super worried) And she makes a little confession to the reader? Saying that she can't lose her and stuff like that. Sorry for the long request, it's my first time ordering 😭😭 Thanks anyway 🩷🤍🩷

Wont lose you ʚɞ

thank you for the request,! it was a bit rushed but I like it anyways let me know if you do :)

masterlist!!

Silco sent you on an important mission, taking down this factory all relied on you. Sevika had insisted on being by your side the entire time, but her request was denied.

Her and two other goons sat on the sidelines to make sure you could get in and out without being seen. No fight. No problem.

Why did she have to get stuck with these guys? She would have been better off down there helping you.

She sat outside the doube doors, one of the men lit a cigarillo for her. All was going according to plan so far.

You had gotten in and deactivated some machines. Now you needed to get out.

Sevika, your long time girlfriend was worried. Despite not wanting to admit it you could tell by the look on her face before you crossed the threshold to the factory.

You chuckled to yourself, thinking of how she patted your back on the way in as encouragement.

But you were confident you could carry this out without a hitch.

What you didn't know is there weren't just guards on the outside.

Your footsteps echoed throughout the seemingly empty factory. All you had to do was pour gasoline around the inside perimeter and on the machines and strike a match. It's not that hard.

You were bent over a machine, checking out the parts and gears before you feel a sharp pain of a blunt object on your back. Turning around you instinctively grab it.

A tall, lanky woman stood towering over you. Before she could pull it from your grasp, you kicked her in the stomach. She stumbled backward with a grut. When you dropped the bat, you were met with another thwack to your head.

You let out a muffled cry, biting your lip. You heard the woosh of an object and half-ducked-half-fell. An ambush. How mature. Another metal bat slammed into the ground beside your head. A broad figure stood over you, moving to hit you again. You rolled to the left but not without getting a swift kick to the stomach.

"Urgh." The wind was knocked out of your lungs. But you had no time to hesitate, jumping to your feet and blocking the next strike of the bat with your forearm.

You grabbed it and pulled it forward, bringing the weilder with it. Letting go with one hand, you slam your fist into their throat. The woman from before came back around, picking up her bat again. You met her metal bat with the one in your hands.

It's okay. You could win. The mission was still going according to plan. Two people with bats you could easily take on. You heard a familiar cocking behind your head.

"Drop it"

Fuck.

You didn't.

Instead, you turned to deliver a high kick to their head. But they managed to pull the trigger faster than you could land it.

Bang

You let out a shrill cry and clutched your side. Blood seeped through your fingers and stained your shirt.

"I told you to drop it," Their deep voice hissed.

You could hear three people rushing into the factory, footsteps echoing throughout the establishment. The person that shot you turned their attention to your team. The trigger happy idiot immediately started firing.

Bullets ricochet against the metal. Sometime amidst the chaos, you started to lose consciousness. Black spots littered your vision, and you finally dropped to your knees. A figure bent over you, yelling incoherent things. She jad a hand on your back, gripping your shirt between clammy fingers.

Looking up, you saw Sevikas distressed expression. Sweat dripped down her forehead, and there was a worried crease between her brows. She was shouting things you couldn't quite make out. Maybe something like "We need to leave" or "We are lighting it up." Maybe both.

She grabbed your legs, hand still on your back and hoisted you into her arms. You could feel her warm arm on your upper back and the hardness of her prosthetic against the back of your legs.

In your groggy state you looked up to Sevika, her teeth gritted as she ran throughout the factory with heavy steps. You could hear an explosion come from far behind you.

A ringing in your ears.

She looked down at you.

Then you passed out.

What seemed to be a few hours later, you groggly awoke. Light seeped into your vision and you attempted to get up. "Fuck," A sharp pain shot through your side.

Oh, right. You got shot.

You looked down to where you now held your side, but instead of blood like how you expected, there are sterile bandages. They wrapped around your now mostly bare torso.

Looking around the room, it seemed familiar to you. Right before you could put your finger on it your girlfriend came walking into the room, holding a glass of water.

Her eyes shot wide open, and she started walking a little faster towards your bedside. "Sweetheart, are you okay?"

You laughed at her suprise, "Yeah. Now that you're here"

Your voice was raspy and dry. You reached out for the water in her hand. She instead pushed your hand down and brought the cup up to your lips herself.

"I thought I'd lost you," She sighs in releif.

You took big gulps of water. She had just finished smoking. You could smell it on her hands. You pulled your lips away from the cup and she brought a thumb to your mouth to wipe away stray water droplets.

It was your turn to ask, "Are you okay?"

She let out a dry laugh, "You're the one sitting in bandages in my bed, and you're asking if Im okay?"

She brings her larger hand to your arm, rubbing circles into your skin. Her rough calloused hands brought some comfort to you.

"Im sorry I let that happen. I shouldn't have let you go in there alone. Silco was wrong," She grumbled, clutching her temples.

"Hey, I can do things by myself. It was an unfair attack." You chimed in.

"I don't care. I dont know what i would do if i lost you in there," She spoke firmly.

Her lips were pursed into a straight line. Trying to calm that tension you reached up to grab her face, bringing her lips to yours.

Her lips chased yours when you pulled away. Hissing as you grabbed your side again. "Shit, do i need to change your bandages?" She got up, already heading for the cabinets.

You were usually the one to dress her wounds, not the other way around. "Aww, you bandaged me up?" You cooed.

"Shut up"

[foldingfittedsheets]

So I’m a little embarrassed to admit that when I thought my Switch was broken, my issue with force restarting it was that I mistook the home button for the power button. The advice people gave me should have worked.

When I realized today that the core should have its own button I was able to restart it and everything was fine.

To celebrate, please enjoy a non exhaustive list of other silly shit I’ve done:

When I first started driving a manual transmission car I learned how to drive stick from a single wretched session with my dad where he forced me to start on a hill with my emergency break before I had basic shifting down (I ended up starting the car in third gear on an incline which is an achievement that no one should ever do), and one drive in a parking lot with my buddy Dustin.

Consequently I believed that I must always keep my foot on the clutch when the car wasn’t in gear because no one thought to tell me that neutral counted as a gear.

I drove like that for years, clutch pressed in at every red light. The only reason I ever learned better was my clunker needed a jump and after my coworker had his car hooked up to mine he invited me to stand with him while we waited.

I very hesitantly lifted my foot off the clutch and when it didn’t stall I felt so goddamn silly. Years. I hadn't realized for years that I could be in neutral without the clutch down for years.

More recently I’ve been listening to podcasts in my car. I thought that if I hit the next track button it would skip to the whole next episode and dutifully sat through all the ads.

Then one day I was turning and hit the skip ahead button and realized it only did 30 seconds, not a whole episode. I immediately felt so silly and ridiculous for not realizing sooner that I could fast forward the ads without missing the whole episode.

Finally, the silliest way I've ever injured myself was so stupid that everyone immediately assumed I was lying. I was crawling down the bed toward my beloved in a negative sexual way. Cannot stress enough, there was nothing sexy in this scenario. I'm pretty sure I was pretending to be a cat screaming about licking my own anus. I went to plant my hand on the footboard, I overshot and went somersaulting off the bed, landing flat on my back.

The next day I tried to go into work while moving like a possessed puppet, hunkered over and slinking along trying not to move any muscles because everything was a fiery pit of pain. The managers saw this and called me into the office. "What the hell happened to you? Can you actually work today?"

I opened my mouth to answer and my favorite assistant manager instantly interjected, "And don't lie!"

I stopped and realized that saying I could still work was in fact a lie and got sent home to recuperate. My coworkers were all completely convinced when they heard the story that I'd been up to the freakiest sex shit imaginable and not a single one believed I fell off my bed pretending to be a deranged cat.

[nouearth]

hear me out.

dick grayson x male reader.

summary: dick pushes you to your limits in the gym, and your animosity towards him slowly transforms into unexpected admiration (and unlocks months of concealed pining).

wc: 7.2k. genre: smut. warnings: top!dick, dom!dick, bottom!reader, bottom!reader, sub!reader, one sided rivalry (reader's end), enemies to lovers(?), brief fighting, reader and dick are working out, physical fighting (with boxing gloves), envious!reader, insecure!reader, hotheaded!reader, uncut!reader, public!sex, gym!sex, dirty talk, praising, guidance, handjob, fingering, kissing, spitting, lots of sweat, body worshipping, reader will be walking funny for the next week.

Your shoes squeaked after every thump from landing on your feet. One foot chased after the other in a pursuit, and your knees raised past your navel as the cable rope cut through the air with a turn before hitting the ground. You huffed after every snap of the rope, a burn scalding the muscles in your thighs and wrists with every rotation, tensing as if you’d been hit, as if your coarse throat would feel the remnants of the whip afterward. 

“Five…Four…Three…” 

Sweat dripped off your forehead, off the locks of your bouncing hair, in anticipation of a merited water break. The water bottle sat on the seated stationary bench, pooled by its own condensation. You could taste it with your eyes, a ravishing sight that pushed you harder. You sped up, raised your knees higher, and endured the pain for ten seconds more. Your gut was sucked in, engaging with your core, and your breathed out in methodical puffs, your chest rising along with it. Everything was burning, muscles tightening into flaming knots that would render you frail by tomorrow morning. If the floor was lava, your body was the volcano erupting it. 

Holy bells rang once you finally counted down to zero, and you immediately came to a halt, the weight of your gratification breaking your movement with an echoing thud as you instantly marched forward to quench your thirst. 

“Fuck.”

Your nostrils stung more than usual. Flared with every inhale as you were catching up to your breath, and more so when you cooled down with several sips of water. Breathing had never felt so good, an absolute fiend you turned out to be after every workout.

You’re getting weaker. Breathing harder. Quicker. You’re losing control on your breath. How are you going to keep up with the team? If you feel this fatigued after a warm up? You let them down last time. Got knocked out and Dick—

He was getting to your head. Again.

Dick. 

The name rolled off your tongue bitterly. A foul taste of metal and battery acid lingered in your parched mouth before it was drowned out by another gulp of water. Another. 

And another. 

And another, as the aforementioned man across from you halted his ropes, stopping in his tracks. 

He’d been doing this since you’d arrived. Mirroring you like a reflection, copying your every move as if you were an instructor. If you were doing strength training, he stopped his cardio to take the machine next to you. Pushed when you pushed, groaned—louder—when you did. 

Needed to stretch your hips? He made some lame excuse about how his legs were too tight, and felt the need to join you on the floor, stretching himself beyond the limits of what you could achieve. It colored you impressed, but you would never say that out loud. Though, you did silently admire the view of his ass, and that especially, would be kept a secret between you and the floor.

Now, it was with jump-roping. The two ropes swung from either corners of the gym like the gears working silently in your head. There was a need to compete with you for some reason.

A satisfied smirk rolled a drop of sweat off his face, and seized his naked torso with glitter as he took a step under a light that lit his body like a podium, or—and you hated to admit it—like one of the sculptures you remembered fawning over in Art History. From his broad build, you could tell that Dick was sturdy, toned, and undoubtedly beautiful. 

His fringe clung onto his forehead, but you could see the gratification he got from outlasting you, smiling while he squeezed a stream of water into his mouth. You noticed how much more capable he was with the calmness of his breath, and felt his adrenaline pumping through the room. In turn, it possessed you—his energy–maneuvering you to the center of the room where a foam mat was placed, and to which Dick expectedly trailed after you.

“Wanna have a go, partner?” Dick said while rolling his shoulders back before picking up a pair of boxing gloves, then another without your confirmation. 

“Seriously—“ He tossed the other pair towards you, an accurate shot that landed into your arms. “Are you going to be doing this all day? Copying me?” You silently thanked him because you began kneading one glove like a stress ball, the rubber foam absolutely gratifying with every scrunch of your hand, as well as consoling as it kept you sane for a little longer.

“I don’t see the problem—“ You began approaching him with the gloves fitted snug over your fists. “Well, actually. I do see the problem. You’re not training hard enough.” Marching with heavy stomps, your nose flaring with every breath that he casually spat out. 

“You give up as soon as you feel tired. I mean, no amount of water breaks are going to help you. You think we have the time to sip water when we’re rescuing a town? A city? The world?” 

His voice, soft and smooth yet it was grating to your ears. The constant talking. Rambling. It gave you a headache. It made you see red. Hearing him berate you. Mock you.

“You’re breathing too hard too, which is taking up all of your energy. And your emotions? You need to control them better. Not only does it affect your combat, but your relationship with your team. You shut yourself off when you don’t do well on a mission.” 

“What are you, my therapist now?”

“Listen, it does no one any good if you’re—“

And it stopped with a strong swing towards his left cheek. His head snapped to the side when the rubber foam smacked him like a whip. 

If red hadn’t blurred your vision, you would’ve noticed the tiniest smile he mustered up from the corner of his lips. A crooked, slanted one that was followed up with a chuckle.

“Not exactly fair play, but…” He raised a hand to rub at his cheek before adjusting the gloves onto his wrists, cracking his neck and stretching the muscles in his back with one more shoulder roll before positioning himself like you were: knees bent and fists raised with the gloves fencing off your face. 

“I’ll give it to you. You can throw a good punch. Beginner’s luck?”

The comment made you swing at his left, and he snapped his head to the right. You missed. There was a precision to his move, something that you lacked in as he snuck a punch to your right cheek. A grunt was stifled, and then let loose in a cough when you felt another beat to the left of your abdomen. Sputtering breath, when Dick scored another hit to your jaw. 

“Fuck—“ Your eyes locked on him while he held your gaze. Your perception seemingly widened, heightened as you’d noticed the smallest movements from Dick, twitching upon instinct as if he was about to strike, but there was nothing. Just the taunt of his arms, and Dick’s teasing smile to garnish, to taunt.

He was circling you. You were circling him. It was the same movement, following each other like two predators unwilling to share the last morsel of food. You felt as much as a leader as Dick was, but from the outsider’s perspective, it was telling who was following the other’s lead. 

Who was the experienced leader of the two sparring men.

Dick feigned a punch with a raise of his arm, and you immediately buckled, jerking back to nothing but a bluff of a hit. You were then greeted by an obnoxious chuckle before he landed a successful sneak to your head, a hit impactful enough to rattle your knees and knock a scoff out of you.

“Be observant. I punch better with my—”

Another swing to his left cheek. Successful, and harder this time, as it managed to stumble him from his stance. You could feel the impact of your fist on Dick, even if it was cushioned by foam. 

It was exhilarating.

“Fight better with your mouth closed too.” You spat, raising your arm to strike the same cheek again. Dick detected it before you could attack, and ducked lower to the right, where he met a sudden fist to his jaw, a calculative undercut that sent him falling onto his back.

“Shit—“

Something unleashed in you. The red in your vision had scorched, burned blue as it reached its highest temperature. You immediately seized the opportunity to straddle him, to face the source of your belittlement, to look at the leader that everyone on your team had silently wish you were, that everyone had admired, to somehow stare and pierce him long enough with your eyes that you were able to tear into his body and take his incredible abilities and mold them into your own, becoming that someone that you had undoubtedly admired as well. 

You threw another blow to his face, enough to knock a groan out of him. It was pleasing to your ears, the low trembles of his voice because of your touch, they twitched with gratitude. But you needed more, a beg from Dick, a plea for you to stop. You threw another punch, and then another as you became blinded by rage. It was out of your control, your arms had a mind of their own as they continued wailing on Dick, even if he had shielded himself with his arms for the last minute now.

You breathed hard, tossing your gloves off as you held him down for a stronger grip and prying his arms from his face. A need to touch him, to feel the impact that your gloves had been restraining you from. You pinned him by his bare and sweaty shoulders that made the grasp all the more slippery, but you nonetheless held him anywhere you could, by his biceps now, and stared into him. You peered into those brown eyes that mysteriously settled your fury until you’d succumb to the beautiful tranquility of his orbs, quietly pacific compared to his mouth.

Dick’s chest was rising. Up and down like your own, recovering from the pummeling you had given him. His eyes were widened as he watched you—studied you. No marks on his face, thankfully due to the cushions you were begging to be replaced with stone a tantrum prior. 

It was humiliating to prove him right, about your emotions, and you sat still, on his lap, breathing. Your fists had stripped you of the little energy you had left, and turned it into mush, but you found support in the warmth of Dick’s body, still breathing. Your grasp had loosened, but remained on his biceps. Warm skin, and ever slightly kneading because of your own envy of Dick’s strength.

You felt your eyes closed, shutting yourself off of the supply of Dick’s silent consolation as the adrenaline pumping through your veins had slowed. “I can never be you, can I?”

“Who says you have to?” Finally, Dick’s voice hadn’t grated your ears like it had in the past. It was gentle as ever, but this time, there was a warmth to it that you wished you could be bundled up in if it had a physical body. A spirit that could temper you with just its warmth, rather than the toxic heat that had just boiled your rage.

“Because—they’ve seen you, Grayson. They know how you operate with the Titans. I can see it, you know? The way they look at you, then the way they look at me. It’s just…”

“You know, my team looked at me like that when they saw how Bats ran the Justice League.” 

“With disgust? Contempt? Disdain? All of the above?”

“No,” He laughed, gathering himself half-way up with the support his elbows. “with... relief?”

“That’s… not helping?” You rolled your eyes, and then felt yourself flush upon coming to realization upon your current position on his lap when he sat halfway up. “Sorry—“ Without making eye contact, you brought yourself off Dick’s hips, but found yourself suddenly pulled back by the waist.

“No, no. What I meant was…” He cleared his throat, sitting up as he positioned you back on his lap again. His hands interlocked against the small of your back, a devise to keep you from abandoning him on the lone mat, but to also pull you closer, hip to hip. 

“Batman… is impressive. You’ve seen him, right? How he has this presence that automatically appoints him as leader. Commander, really. I don’t know anyone that can plan better than him, but that’s not to say that he doesn’t have his faults. He’s all business, little relations. So are the others. You’ve seen them too. Supes, the Lanterns. I respect it. They respect him because of that, and vice versa. But… that’s not how my team works. Not the Titans.”

“I see…” You shifted, nodding every now and then as you listened.

“It’s just… My members are more than co-workers, you know? This isn’t some nine-to-five job that you’ll probably quit after five years. It’s… our lives now. And with them, they’re with me every step of the way. So, they’re more than co-workers. You don’t protect co-workers. Not saying the Justice League don’t care about each other… But what you do protect are friends, families. Yeah, they’re my family, so I treat them as such. And maybe… that’s why they seemed relieved they were part of my team. And…”

“I just have to find what works with my team?”

“Yeah. I mean, you guys are just starting out. Everyone’s still adapting, still getting to know each other, still figuring out each other’s powers, right? Things are bound to be a little more destructive in terms of chemistry.”

“I don’t know… I just… I don’t know if I can lead them like you guys can. I’m not like you guys. In terms of skills, in terms of leadership, in terms of—“

“Then work on that with your team. That’s what a good leader does, they seek out help from their teammates and let them know that their opinions and help are valued.”

It sounded absolutely simple. Something that shouldn’t have taken you this long to figure out, but Dick was right. Rather than seeking for your team’s help, you thought you had to endure whatever situation had arisen on your own. It weighted heavily on your shoulders, until you couldn’t muster up the strength to push your own weight. And in turn, that affected your team. You needed them, just as much as they needed you. 

“And here you are…” Dick continued, suddenly bursting with a smile. “Instead of spending time with your team, you’re with me. I know I’m quite charming, but geez, (M/N), can a guy get some alone time?”

You scoffed and lightly punched at his chest. “Did we forget that you were the one joining me in the gym when you have your own in the tower? Copying my every move? What’s up with that?”

He shrugged, kneading nonchalantly at your sides. “Knew you’d be alone. Knew you were probably blaming yourself, moping around. Thought I would give you a little push.”

You shifted again, your hands keeping close to yourself as you couldn’t muster up the strength to complain about his wandering hands.

Or rather, find anything about his hands to complain about.

“Push as in to annoy me?”

“Well, I was supposed to be teaching you some things, but, uh… you were playing whack-a-mole with my head earlier.” 

“That’s because—“ You sighed, dropping your head low in embarrassment. “Sorry. I don’t know. Everything started happening so fast and—“

“No, it’s fine. It gives me the perfect opportunity to introduce you my first lesson of the week.” He was sincere, smiling up at you, almost as if he had mistaken your brief fit of rage as a game of tag.

“What’s that?” You asked, meeting his eyes once again.

He pondered for a moment,, pursing his lips as he was lost within his thoughts before speaking again. “How To Communicate To Your Team 101.”

“How is that even going to—“

You felt a sudden press to your lips. A softness that awakened your five senses by tenfold, and a desire that you had kept vaulted in the back of your mind; now beginning to unlock to its freedom the longer Dick had his lips on you. It wasn’t right. No, it wasn’t like it was morally wrong, it was just…

You hesitated, conjuring up all the reasons in your head on why kissing Dick wasn’t a good idea. But it was futile. Everything had been resolved within this moment; the way he let you use him like a punching bag, the way he didn’t spare a single second to share his empathy for your concerns, the way he tended to your wounds days prior despite your brazen disregard to his kindness. 

You were being selfish again, guarding yourself off with ice like you had done with the others. When in reality, you wanted him. 

No, you desperately needed him.

You felt him open up his mouth, assuming he was about to speak, but you seized his breath with a slot of your lips, and kissed him. One hand came up to rest on his cheek, to finally feel the slight scruffs you had delivered on his skin, and you caressed tenderly across textured skin, to the slow rhythm of your lips, whispering, “Sorry… again.”

“Don’t be. Without it, you wouldn’t have been on my lap. And… I wouldn’t be kissing you right now.” Dick muttered, a satisfaction to his voice like he had gotten his wish fulfilled. He ran a lone hand up your back, then back down your spine, bone tingling once he repeated again under your hoodie, and gazed across your bare skin.

“What are you doing to me…” It was a genuine question, something you wished could be answered because you didn’t know yourself. And yet, you were scared of the answer if Dick was to ever give you one. It’d been a while since you felt like this, with someone else.

For the past few months, you hated him. Couldn’t stand the sight of him. And now, you feel like you couldn’t tear yourself apart from him. From the softness of his lips and to the warmth of his body; the longer you endured him, the more you realized you had been captivated by Dick all along.

“I don’t know, but… I like figuring you out.” Dick’s speech was slurred from dragging his lips down to your jaw, nipping at your sweaty skin. “Like how you push me away, but you can’t help but tolerate me whenever I’m in the room.” He breathed you in, sucking at the corner of the sharp bone. You pressed your head into his neck, silently letting him take you. “How you’d sneak glances at me and roll your eyes, only to keep on staring… and staring… until you hadn’t realized that I was looking back at you. Because you were too busy looking at me.”

Nothing but the truth came out Dick’s mouth. Remarkably candid, because you thought you were more covert about your conflicting feelings for him. It brought a bloom of heat to your cheeks, and you hid your face inside his neck, groaning because Dick began licking at your neck, and because you felt stripped, absolutely vulnerable.

“Dick…” Something was rising in your shorts, tightened around the center. Warm and pulsing, even when Dick had unzipped your hoodie and thrown them to the side. A chill was felt across your bare back, most likely a draft from the vent, and Dick held you closer, sandwiching the heat, and suddenly your erection, between his body and yours.

“I knew you never hated me.” There was something about your chest that he loved. How smooth it felt. A few hairs had grown at the center, raised from the feelings Dick was supplying to your body. They tickled his cheek whenever he rubbed himself against it until they were then flattened with a long, fluttering lick as he maintained eye contact with you. “Always right.”

The taste of your sweat was salty yet delicate on his tongue.

“Hate is a strong word...” Your fingers threaded through Dick’s locks, scrunching them into your fist when he started toying one nipple at a time with his tongue. The wet muscle flicked deftly, then he suckled, and then tugged, like he had known your body, like he had explored your body before. It was strange, how he knew the right thing to say, and the right thing to do.

Maybe he was ‘always right.’

“Whatever it is, it’s not stopping you right now.” His hands dropped to the waistband of your shorts and he pulled away from your swollen nubs. It was unwilling. You could see it in his eyes, the thirst to ruin, and it compelled him to bring another suck to your nipples, a few seconds more that almost pulled a dangerous whimper out of you before he ultimately paused. “Nor is it stopping me.” 

With a gentle push on your chest, he leaned you back onto the mat while lifting your hips up, smoothly sliding your shorts off. They joined the pile containing your hoodie soon after, and then your briefs to top.

“R-right here? Aren’t there cameras or something…?” Your hands instinctively came down to cover yourself, cupping that embarrassing erection that Dick was thirsting for. The head of your cock peeked out from your clumsy gasp, and his hands instantly came up to pry your hands off.

Dick had that same look in his eyes when he was circling around you earlier. A rapacity blaring the pupil of his eyes. His piercing gaze alone kept your hands from coming up to cover yourself again. You knew you wouldn’t stand a chance against his strength.

“I doubt anyone is watching the gym… Private for a reason.” Your legs were then wrapped around his waist after pulling you by the ankles. His presence was commanding. You knew to keep your arms to your side, hands forbidden from obstructing the view of your hard, throbbing cock.

“No wonder you’re so stressed. Look how hard you are.” Dick muttered, seemingly speaking his inner thoughts because he was too distracted by the veins of your erection. Thick and pulsing as he wrapped a hand around you, and stroked, fascinated by the stretch of foreskin unfolding from the head of your cock when he pulled back, then rolling back up when he pulled forward. “This okay?”

“Fuck—Yeah… Feels good.” One arm was raised to wipe the cold sweat off your forehead,  but it then rested against your forehead, shielding yourself from Dick’s gaze as he slowly pumped you back into breaking another round of sweat.

“No,” He paused, suddenly squeezing your foreskin over the tip of your swollen glans. You whimpered. Not only did he squeeze you tight, stripping you of a friction that you desperately had been needing more of. But Dick was teasing, threatening with the dull movement of his thumb as he pressed and rubbed into the fold of skin, polishing the head of your cock  in a thick sheen of pre-cum as his grip would draw out a generous amount from beneath. “I want to see you properly. Look at me.”

You reluctantly met his demands, only after you felt the tip of his thumb prying into your slit. Was this supposed to be a punishment? Because you could’ve allowed it to go on for longer, knowing how much Dick marveled at how much pre-cum you were leaking out.

Your body felt hot, and your hands—they needed something to hold, something to grip. When Dick began resorting to quicker strokes to your cock, you were clawing at the mat at first, etching your presence with indentations of your nails as your warning came in vain. “I’m going to cum if you keep doing that, Dick—“ 

“Use your words I’m telling you.” He spat in his palm after a millisecond of a break before lubing your cock in his own spit and churning you into the tight, yet slippery friction of his fist. Dick’s gaze had been fixated on you, never once had it torn away to look at something else. Not even a peek at your cock deliciously fucking into his fist. Because in case you forgot, he liked figuring you out. “Gotta communicate with me.”

The stoicism you had worn with pride, only ever fragmenting from anger upon defeat; Dick had discovered another facet to its escalating submission, and it was delightful watching you unravel in real-time. The slick of his hands; one beating off your cock while the other massaging your balls; your expressions had given yourself away on how to break you down. Maybe it was because you had given up keeping up the facade. Or maybe it was because it was Dick, who has done more than enough to earn your trust, that you found yourself nearly crumbling.

He had studied you, his hands continuing to wander, explore every part of you while silently cataloging the right spots to make you crack. You were close, hanging off the edge with one hand, nails dulling over a cliff as you desperately prevented gravity from pulling you down under. When his hand had left your balls in favor of suddenly pushing a finger inside of your tight hole, Dick knew you had completely submitted.

Your body was writhing, hips desperately thrusting in the air despite Dick pinning them down to properly stretch your hole and fill you up with another finger, and another. Your expressions were ravishing, conflicted with pleasure and tension, and your mouth opened to politely tell Dick to stop, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to utter the demand. Instead, all that came out of your mouth was a whimper of his name, a stutter that rang delectably in Dick’s ears when he interrupted you with a deep push of his fingers, curling and then pumping in and out of you, and another whimper would secure the deft removal of the rest of his shorts and briefs. All because he couldn’t contain himself anymore. 

He had absolutely no right to teach you about control, for the reason that he was on the brink of losing it himself. You looked absolutely wrecked, all from the stubborn grip around your cock, the tight fit of his fingers, and Dick couldn’t imagine what you’d look like if he was in you, his thick cock fucking you, making love to you.

“Seriously, Dick—I’m about to—“

You couldn’t help it. Dick’s demand to control yourself was absolutely absurd with his reign on your body. The wet, sticky sound his spit made as Dick’s fist was being screwed by your pulsing cock drove you nuts. And then came the view of Dick’s thick cock, throbbing, pre-cum dripping heavily off of his swollen head as he watched you untouched, begging to be touched. You swore you almost surrendered had it not been for his wrist slowing down, a delicacy you begged prior, but now desperately wanted to vanish.

“God, you know I always loved it whenever you accidentally let a smile slip. But this? You’re so beautiful like this, (M/N).” He paused despite your silent pleas for him to otherwise. Though, all was forgiven when he leaned forward to kiss you on the lips. Sweet and bountiful like his words had made you feel, and you kissed him right back, an eagerness compared to his own movements, but then gratefully countered with an impatient swipe at your crack. His cock, plump and heavy, then wet and sticky as he smeared his pre-cum over your hole. Your legs remained wrapped around his hips, but Dick pushed his body weight forward until they folded with your knees touching your chest, his cock dangerously pressing at your entrance.

Dick spat in his palm again, reaching down to coat himself in the sticky layer of spit, and you felt him press. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, anticipating with an accelerating drum of your heart as he teased, slicking your pucker with the gentle, smooth circling of his tip.

“Please… I need it.” You had a gentle grasp around his nape, pulling him down until his forehead rested against yours. You’ve never seen him like this, so up-close and intimate. A mole, a freckle on his face that you’d never noticed, and you instantly yearned for what could’ve been all this time, had it not been for your stubbornness.

“What do you need? You need me inside of you?” Dick clarified against your lips, a whisper into your mouth as you parted them open to welcome his tongue. Hot and heavy, you let your tongue wrap around his for a tingling moment before pulling away, a string of spit webbing a path between your lips and his. “Use your words.”

“Need your cock, need you… Need everything. As long as it’s you.” You marveled at Dick, drunk off of the mutual endearment you have for each other. He regarded you with a warm smile, followed by a dazzling glint within his gaze, then relayed the turn of his mouth to yours with another kiss, a gentle warning, before Dick pushed his hips forward and slipped his cock inside of you.

“Good boy.”

“O-oh, fuck.” 

Your body tensed as soon as you took the first inhale of breath since he’d breached you, sharp and abrupt, just like the pain that had jolted the muscles in your body to squeeze around him. You were playing defense, impeding the foreign introduction inside of your body with a clamp, yet Dick resisted. Rather, he thrived on your strain, adoring the suctioning feeling of his cock as if you were conflicted about inviting him in or pushing him out. It didn’t take much to figure out that it was the former. During the meantime you were adjusting to his cock, Dick was thrusting the few inches that had slid inside of you. Small and short movements to aid in your stretch, and then eventual pleasure as he gradually pushed himself deeper until you’d blossom completely open for him, like a bud in the Spring.

“Fuck, you’re so tight… So good, your ass is so good.” He was satisfied with half of his cock inside of you, rocking into you slowly until you felt comfortable enough to have him harder, faster. Till then, it was perfect like this. Breathing in your whimpers, holding your face like it was the last vestige of your sanity, before kissing you again, sweet on the mouth, tender with your tongue, to hold a fragment of your sanity within him and sealing it where no one could ever take it from him.

“T-too big, Dick—Fuck…” You whimpered again, closing your eyes from the uncomfortable detection of already feeling completely full, yet you and Dick both knew it wasn’t a complaint. Rather, it was a simple observation that had rendered you speechless, an inkling you’d disappoint Dick for not being able to take him properly, to not let him in like you had done for all these months.

“You’re doing great, baby. Doing so good… You can take it, I know you can.” His words were so warm, so kind, so gentle in your ear, low and sinking in your neck as he marked you as his with constant licks and kisses, and immediately, he dialed up your confidence by tenfold. You felt yourself relaxing, the tension in your body melting the longer he rocked half of his cock into you.

Just breathe. Breathe. You found it helpful following Dick’s breathing pattern, exhaling when he pulled out, inhaling when he pushed in, and gradually, you felt yourself opening up for him, taking him in longer strides, with little breaks, faster, harder, until you felt thoroughly plugged when he pushed once more to cork his cock inside of you, balls-deep.

“S-shit, Dick—Fuck—So good—“

Dick trembled with a moan sinking into the underside of your jaw. His cock had never felt so wanted, so warm in another’s body. You took him in without a single complaint, and it was a spectacle, an absolute wonder when Dick leaned back to watch himself completely unsheathe out of you like a dagger out of its scabbard. 

“Look at that… Fucking beautiful.” Your hole was gaped open with the diameter matching the girth of Dick’s cock. Blinking, puckering desperately as it painfully endured the loss of heat, the loss of his desire. You’d never felt so exposed, completely powerless as Dick had you bending your legs further back with one hand, and the other spreading your cheeks apart to further see how much more you could stretch. 

The color of your flesh was enthralling, and if the marks on your neck had not been telling that you were Dick’s; he pressed a kiss to your pucker, gentle nibbling and licking at the puffy rim before abruptly spitting inside of you, and another for good measure, the glorious designation would remind you now.

“Dick—No more, I need you, please—“ You reached down to spread your pucker with the spit dribbling out of you using two fingers, then pulled back to taste him, sucking on them before your craving for Dick would return with a vengeance, body-writhing and mind-numbingly so.

“Tell me. What do you need, hm?” Dick tapped his cock against your hole. The plump head slid smooth over the spit-covered flesh, mixing with his pre-cum, while he watched you with a grin, each swipe of his cock taunting to pull completely away unless you spoke.

“Need you. Inside of me. Fucking me. Holding me. Kissing me. Touching. I don’t know—Please, please. Just need you.” Your wishes were long-winded, but sincere. The gaze you had given him, an imploring look that Dick would take a moment to hold for a little longer despite your begging.  Cherishing it, not knowing if this would be a fluke you’d later regret down the line, but in the end, all that mattered was that  you let your guards down at the mercy of Dick’s guidance. Then utterly defenseless, when he gave into your wishes, a chaste kiss to your lips while doing so, and pushed himself deep inside of you with one smooth thrust.

You stiffened in Dick’s arms when they slipped around you, digging your nails into his skin. Squeezing his waist with your legs, you held onto him when he pushed the rest of his body weight over you, bending you further while keeping his lips connected to yours. He was stabilized on the tip of his toes, thrusting into, past, and against your inner muscles all at once. You clenched around his cockhead, the pleasure unbearable to resist as each dip of his hip successfully knocked a gasp from your mouth. 

“So good, so tight like this…” Dick’s cock was in heaven, burying you deep until his heavy balls pressed flushed to your taint. He would stay motionless whenever he did; to catch up on his breath, to draw out his nearing high for a little longer, and to feel you, luxuriate in the warmth of your walls squeezing him tight, pulsing with dilemma, and ultimately refusing to let go. “Think I can come just like this, you squeezing my cock…”

He looked down at your face, a brief check-up. Your lips moved as if you were about to say something, but no sound came out. Only a stutter of a gasp, little sounds that Dick found incredibly magnetic, to which he found increasingly difficult to keep his lips off of you. He failed with little effort on his end, in hopes to steal those tiny sounds and keep it for himself. 

Your pupils were blown when they weren’t rolling back from the smallest movement of Dick’s hips. In addition, with your lips swollen and lids heavy, you gazed up at Dick like he had saved your life, as if he had guided you towards a better place. Your life seemingly were in his hands as he held your cheeks and kissed you once more. Sweet again, rocking into you steadily, sweat sticking his skin to yours. 

And maybe he did.

“Say something. I want to hear you.” A merciful demand upon your lips. You were trembling, barely swallowing down moans while Dick continuously impaled you with his cock—up into you now, when Dick leaned back until he was sitting up, and brought you back onto his lap like before, pushing your hips towards the rate of his thrusts.

Mesmerized by Dick, your mouth parted open and your throat immediately began emptying itself of all the harbored moans and groans that you had been holding hostage. “F-fuck me, keep fucking me. L-like that. No—Harder, harder—“ They rattled in volume, bouncing in sync with the way your ass had been doing against Dick’s cock, and then louder, because your marvelous sounds emerged an addiction out of Dick.

Sweet Jesus. He couldn’t stop. Watching the desire in your beautiful features, hearing your pleas reflect your want, stroking your cock awaiting for its release, marking every flesh of your skin his mouth had come in contact with. At the level of intimacy; from the pull of Dick’s hair, the sloppy, open-mouthed kisses you two shared, and the mutual passion you had for each other; you no longer felt like his disciple, but rather, an equal to Dick’s being—a derivative blessing, that would course correct each other’s life.

Your hands could barely hold onto his shoulders, but you worked with your strength, the slip of his skin, and locked your hands around his nape. Forehead to forehead, you and Dick breathed moans into each other, heavy and thick with yearning as you two pressed close, stuck to each other like glue. He cataloged the tiniest details on how your face contorted with pleasure; the scrunch of your nose, the roll of your eyes, the part of your lips. Your fist tightened around your cock, pumping it rapidly to the pace of Dick’s thrusts, churning it until your biceps had distractingly flared with veins. 

You did the same. You watched Dick’s mouth agape with rapture. The scrunch of his brows when he fucked into you faster and to the root. The clench of his jaw when you squeezed tight around him, suctioning his cock until he sounded delirious with pleasure. It was beautiful. He was beautiful, and you knew he found you beautiful as well, the beautiful loss of reality from the mutual pleasure, and that was all it took to make you spill your load without a single warning. 

You smashed a guttural groan to his lips and unraveled your fingers, leaning your body back to let your cock release where it pleased to afterward. “Oh, fuck—“ 

“Holy shit.”

Thick shots rained on Dick’s sweaty body. Three spurts to the center of his chiseled chest, and then another four splashing high in the air when Dick powered up on the sight of your cum alone, and drilled you harder, your cock dribbling in cum as he did so. His nails dug into your ass cheeks, spreading them apart, then cushioning them back around his cock to somehow press your walls against every vein pulsing through the thick of his erection.

Dick fucked you like you’d begged him to. Long, strong thrusts, to the brim on each stroke, undoubtedly hitting your prostate at every turn from the way you would jolt forward with widened, rattling, yet blissful eyes. A sight Dick would have forever ingrained into his memory, because you were officially, utterly, and completely wrecked.

It was heaven. The crown of Dick’s cock sliding over the spot, the depth of his cock rendering you immobile and dazed. Again, he’d repeat. A new addiction, surging powerfully through his veins. You let out a sob. 

Again. You squeezed your eyes shut. 

Again. You dug your nails into his shoulders. 

And again. Dick smacked your ass at the delirious state he was in. He had completely breached inside of you, explored every inch of your hole with the circle of his hips. A thrust. A slam. A rut. He had traversed through every option to dismantle you, and like clockwork, your snug hole all but sucked on his cock, begging for him to come inside.

He couldn’t hold it anymore.

“Baby, baby…” Dick’s large hand smothered his warmth around your throat. You could feel the callous in his palm, a gentle abrasion to your smooth skin, and he rubbed your seed all over your body, then his. He fucked harder to the sight of the sticky sheen layering your body. The smell of musk. The stick to his hands. Filthy. Your body and his were filthy together. Filthier, when pleasure burst from the base of his shaft, and in turn, flooded your insides with a large load. He moaned, and you arched into him, into the stick of his body, anticipating for the rupture of your doing. 

Your cock throbbed once, straining forward with its swollen head aiming towards the ceiling, and you spat thick shots of white seed into the air, eventually course-correcting to land on your body and Dick’s.

It was wonderful. You could feel Dick’s cock pulse as his seed rushed up the shaft and buried you deep into your guts with thick and heavy shots. Upon impulse, you squeezed as well, clamping around the peak of DIck’s orgasm until it must have crested with the stillness of his breath. “Don’t pull out.”

“Wasn’t planning on it…”

If he hadn’t thought it enough, you were beautiful, he was keen on calling it a mantra because it meant that he was still here, on this very earth, breathing and witnessing your very existence. Your body was weakened, barely mustering the strength to hold your chest up without the aid of Dick’s arms around you. Limp, after your second orgasm. All of you, you were so beautiful. From your rim hugging the base of your cock, your softening cock dripping, your swollen nipples, the smooth planes of your cum-stained chest, and parted lips. You were a banquet to Dick’s eyes, a feast that could muster up another around to have at you, to have you completely devoured if he had really wanted to.

But no, this was perfect. Watching you in silence, surveying up at you while you peered down at him, panting, breathing slow, in a case of wonder of how one could have such an effect on him without a morsel of effort. 

“So… lessons? You always do this to new recruits?”

“Only if they absolutely suck at their role.” An exhaustion in his smile, you wanted to capture it in between your lips, and replenish him with gratitude.

“Hey— Asshole…” You muttered, a gentle knock to his chest, to which he laughed off, and then held on, to pull you in for a blissful kiss.

With the way you fit into his arms as if you’d always been meant to be there, warm where he was cold, and cold where you were warm, he knew he didn’t need his question answered.

“Kidding. Let’s just say… it was curated for a special someone. And hopefully, they liked it as much as I liked teaching it.”

“I have a good feeling that they did.” 

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[crushmeeren]

ᝰ ITACHI WHO’S NEVER HAD HIS DICK SUCKED .ᐟ

༝ ᭝ ༝ inspired by this post by katsukikitten. ༝ ᭝ ༝

master list link ༝ ᭝ ༝ @pixelcafe-network

“Soo… let me get this straight. You’ve had sex, before, right Itachi?”

Itachi purses his lips. “I have, yes.”

You blink a few times, shaking your head in disbelief as you shift to sit cross legged on his bed. “But you’ve never had your dick sucked?”

Itachi averts his gaze, cheeks flushing rosy pink. He clears his throat softly. “No, I haven’t. I’ve always been curious though,” he admits. Itachi’s eyes flicker back to yours, shy but sweet, and he drapes the end of his low pony tail over his shoulder to twist the end around his finger.

“You’ve had some shitty partners,” you state as a matter of fact.

Itachi hums. “Yes, none of them were very satisfying, apparently.”

There’s not a chance in hell you aren’t blowing him now.

Determined, you rock forward onto your hands and knees, crawling across the soft sheets of the bed, and pause to rest your hands on his bare knees, leaning in close. “If you want, I can show you what it’s like,” you murmur, watching Itachi’s lids flutter. You press a kiss to his warm cheek.

The air between you shifts into something sticky and warm.

“Yeah,” Itachi breathes, voice low and husky. “I’d really like that.”

It’s easy to coax Itachi into sitting at the edge of the bed. He rests his feet on the floor while you sit on your knees between his thighs. Itachi slips his shirt off and you hook your fingers into his shorts and briefs, freeing him of the remaining clothing when he lifts his hips up.

He’s already hot and full, slick at the tip without being touched. He places his hands behind himself to support his weight, cock gently bobbing and smacking against his lower belly as he shifts around. You run a teasing finger down his shaft, and your stomach warms rich and honeyed when his cock jumps, a shiver wracking through him.

“It’s really unfair how hot you are,” you say with a sigh, switching gears and smoothing your hands up his soft inner thighs. The muscles flex under your touch, and you glance up to see his lips part.

“You look gorgeous,” he says breathlessly, the heat from his awestruck stare reducing you to ash.

You don’t waste another second, pressing the flat of your tongue to the taught skin between his balls and drag it up, up, up his shaft and flick the tip just beneath his crown. He tastes a little salty, the vague after scent of his body wash flooding your nose.

Itachi’s breath hitches audibly, the next exhale coming out as a throaty moan, and suddenly there’s a hand palming the back of your skull, fingers digging in.

“Oh my god,” he whines, fisting the sheets with his free hand until they bunch up. “Your tongue feels incredible. I may not last long, love.”

You smile to yourself, taking his warning as a challenge, and circle your fingers around the base of his shaft. You tilt him towards your mouth and push the head between the purse of your lips. Your eyes drift shut as you slowly sink down, not relenting until your mouth brushes your knuckles. You hollow your cheeks and suck harshly, dragging your lips upwards, and let your tongue glide along the underside.

Itachi’s moan is absolutely broken. High pitched and whiny as his hips jerk involuntarily, searching for more. You press one hand harshly to his thigh to send a message that he needs to stay still.

You repeat the movement, bobbing your head once, twice, three times before Itachi’s frantically calling your name, trying to pull you off by the hair while his cock twitches rhythmically.

You free him with a slick pop, blinking open your eyes as you place a kiss to his tip and look up at him in question. Itachi’s eyes roll back and his mouth drops open as he gasps.

Your head jerks back in surprise when warm ribbons of his cum land on your cheek. Decorating your lips and chin, dripping down on to the hand still holding the base of him.

Itachi’s cheeks turn scarlet when he catches his breath, expression downright mortified. You stare up at him in shock before you break into a smile, unable to stop your amused laughter. Itachi covers his mouth as he can’t help but join you, the sound contagious.

“Feel good baby?” You tease, searching for Itachi’s discarded shirt. He picks it up off the bed and swiftly hands it to you so you can wipe your face.

He nods with a soft smile. “Better than I could have ever imagined.” He pauses, worrying at his lower lip. “Do you think we could do that again?” He asks, eyes hopeful.

Affection swells in your chest and you exhale sharply through your nose, lips curling up at the corners. “I’ll blow you as many times as you want Itachi.”

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Housewife!reader

From the request HERE

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Such a good little wife you are to your military husband, ready to welcome him back home after he returns from deployment. This time you've even prepared a meal of all his favorites, but when Simon gets back early than expected and catches you flitting about the kitchen in nothing but his t-shirt, it isn't food that he wants.

Word Count: 6.4 k

Warnings:

Simon has gotten in earlier than either of you expected, but instead of letting you know he doesn’t call, doesn’t text. There are other thoughts on his mind that cloud his judgment and the last thing he thinks about is wasting time focusing on messing with his phone when showing up back home is infinitely better. He’s excited to be back, chomping at the bit to get back his girl as he’s been missing you something terrible. Now that he’s back on home turf, that longing to see you again is only getting worse by the second.  

You had told him your plan for today: you wanted to make his homecoming right by cooking him a nice meal for the two of you as a celebration since he’s been gone for quite a while this round. The gesture is sweet and Simon is getting hungry… the only problem is that it isn’t for food.

He reiterates to himself on the drive back about the promise that he made to you that he would be on his best behavior today. All this trouble you are going to, he wants to be sure to show his appreciation by enjoying the hard work you’ve put in to prepare a dinner of all his favorite things and he plans to keep it by not letting his yearnings get out of hand…at least that is what he hopes.

By the time he pulls up to the house he is over two hours early from when he was meant to land and his pulse is racing as he parks on the driveway. Just a short distance more and he’s back in the company he’s been craving like crazy.

His key clicks in the lock and as he opens the door to his house he is hit by the sights and sounds of familiarity that instantly put him at ease. There are reminders of you everywhere, little touches that make this a place of comfort he looks forward to coming back to after being away. It is the sound of music echoing from the kitchen that urges him to continue forward after he shuts the door quietly, hoping to catch you by surprise. He sets his gear down by the door and creeps silently through the house, the metallic clangs of pots and utensils underneath the music now becoming more prominent as he reaches the source. 

And there you are.

The pupils of those caramel brown eyes dilate as you come into view; it has been too long since the object of his desire was standing right in front of him and fuck, do you look good. He watches you transfixed on the grace of your movements, unwavering gaze following the motions of your body as you go about the kitchen popping from the stove to the countertop singing along with the song playing over the bluetooth speakers. 

This is it, this is his little piece of heaven on earth, his oasis safe from the chaos that is his daily life, his sunshine that pierces through the darkness that clouds his thoughts, and she’s wearing his t-shirt. And only his t-shirt with your panties.

How the hell can you make something so simple look like perfection? He could very well be biased because he only has ever had eyes for you, but fuck your beauty could pull off anything. 

This right here is what keeps him going, knowing that this is what he will come home to.

He pulls his phone from out of his pocket and promptly snaps a picture, wanting to capture this innocent moment of carefree beauty that you exude now that you are alone in your own little world: humming happily to yourself, flitting about the kitchen, his baggy shirt randomly clinging to different curves as you move, your hair tied back into a low ponytail. 

In that moment, looking like you do, he wants you so bad it hurts. Your figure is only a few feet away from his grasp and yet his body is aching in pain still being this far. He has to be wrapped around you and it has to be right now. Moving with haste he pulls off his mask and gloves and discards them on the ground, removing any sign of Ghost so that he cannot taint his sweet thing with the unsavory dealings of his alter ego. He can’t wait, those lips and hands have to be on you the second they can.

Just as you go to stir the pot of vegetables bubbling away on the stove, the music cuts out abruptly and a familiar pair of arms snake their way around your waist from behind, lacing themselves across the middle of your stomach. You jump, not expecting anyone to be against you, but as soon as your eyes catch that forearm full of familiar tattoos you settle. He’s home, that’s all that matters and those nerves that have been brewing inside your chest all day turn into delicious flutters as those large hands begin to roam across your body.

The old familiar curves call to him, beckoning him to travel their paths once again. Who is he to deny them? He does not even wait as his hands paw over your stomach and hips, those large, exploratory hands taking the curves of your body into their embrace over the t-shirt until his grip is so full he can’t contain any more. 

“You’re early,” you say through a smile as you settle back into him, head resting against his shoulder. 

The warmth from his breath is at the edge of your ear as he moves his face in closer while his hands wander with purpose. His lips are ghosting themselves near the delicate skin of your earlobe teasingly until he has you squirming in his arms. "Woulda called, just wanted to get home as fast as I fuckin’ could," he groans as he tightens his grip around you to cause your back to form into the contours of his taut chest. “Had a craving for somethin’ sweet.” 

Pulling up the t-shirt just enough he moves under it with those large hands, splaying them across your soft flesh around your waist, your hips, your stomach as he takes your earlobe in his teeth to nibble at it playfully until it sends shivers down your spine.

“I missed ya, baby,” he says desperately against the side of your head.

"I missed you too," you return. 

The longer he plays up under the shirt, the more your sanity wanes. His touch is ecstasy and after not having it for so long, it is hard to not immediately succumb to its bliss. He’s barely even begun and you are already falling apart; if this keeps up you’ll never finish what you have started on the stove. 

"I wish you would have called,” you say, trying to break the spell, “cause I wanted everything to be done before you got home. I’m not ready, I’m not even dressed. I wanted this to be perfect." 

His lips move from your earlobe and start just below your jaw, making the connection against your skin over and again along the line of your jugular as he descends down your neck with kisses. He pauses against the vein there as his lips pick up the thudding as it pulses under his touch. The more his mouth lingers, the quicker it gets. 

With a smile he nuzzles his nose into your skin as his nostrils fill with your scent; the fragrance fills his head and it feels like he is being consumed. “Don’t need to get dressed,” his words breeze over your neck and down your chest, “ya look perfect just like this. How could I ask for anythin’ more?”

Simon takes the spoon out of your hand and rests it on the counter so that he can turn you around to face him; that stoic military officer is yearning to look into the face of the beauty he hasn't seen in far too fucking long. Meeting your gaze for the first time in months is akin to a contact high and immediately he is out of his goddamn mind as your eyes lock to his.

You are struggling just as badly. It is always a struggle not to miss him like crazy when he’s gone and now that he is back there is so much time to make up for. And the way he looks as he stands here in front of you, hands around your hips, isn’t helping. The universe knew what they were doing when they put Simon together and even though the black around his eyes is already smugged and his crinkled blonde hair is pressed down from being under his balaclava, the sight of him still makes your stomach flip. You are transfixed and it’s getting harder to breathe.

Brown eyes trail down your features to take you all in, drinking up every gorgeous facet of your face as his hands move to cup around the sides of your head like the frame around a work of art. Those eyes that light up whenever they look at him, that sweet mouth always ready with a smile, those soft cheeks glowing whenever he touches you, all of it a unique perfection that he cannot get enough of. Finally his sight lands on your mouth and as if drawn by an overwhelming urge he is compelled to move in.

He has to kiss you; it is suddenly unbearable that he still hasn’t tasted you yet. 

Leaning into your face he gives your lips a peck to test that they still feel the same as he remembers. Pulling back, he catches the sparkle in your eyes that tells him to do that again and he is ready to oblige. Then he steals another and another at an increasing pace until his mouth smashes against yours and latches on, drawing you in as he deepens the connection. 

His tongue meets yours and shoves its way past the barrier of your lips and into the confines of your mouth as he tastes you. Everything comes flooding back all at once and he is overtaken by all that familiarity. The longer the connection lasts the more he loses himself until he is panting into you, sharing one sticky, hot bit of air as his features shape themselves around your own to make your faces become one.

The thick stubble outlining his jaw abrades the skin of your cheeks and around your lips, making your face sting, but you don't want him to pull away. Not yet, not when his lips are making your mind hazy and your limbs tremble as all that tension that has been building for days as you wait for his return bubbles over the surface. 

His desperation is showing as his dick digs itself into your upper thigh, pulsing and throbbing the harder it gets until you cannot ignore it. Each heavy breath pushes his bulky chest against yours until you can feel his rapid pulse rushing angrily through his veins as his heartbeat pounds. 

"You’re gonna be the death ‘a me," he says quietly under his breath as he cannot think of anything else to say in that moment; his mind is too absorbed in the way your kiss is like heaven and he is succumbing to the feeling of it. “I know I said I’d wait til later, but I don’t think I can, sweetheart. It’s been hell without ya.”

At this rate Simon isn’t going to make it to dinner and you’re so close to being done, but maybe there is something you can do to sate him long enough that you can get through this. With a bit of struggle you break the kiss and pull away as he desperately tries to wrangle you back in so that you have to place your hand on his chest to get him to pause.

Giving Simon’s lower lip one last quick nip you slowly lower yourself to your knees before him, your fingers lacing into the leather of his belt as you fiddle with the buckle. “Then how about I give you a little something to keep you satisfied til dinner’s over?” you suggest as you look up at him with those pretty doe-eyes. “Something to make you feel better?” 

His chest heaves up and down with each laborious breath he takes as you jump into unhooking the metal of his buckle and pulling the leather through until the belt hangs loosely around his hips. Your fingers slide down the zipper, but before you can do more his hands press yours into place along the lower portion of his pelvis so that you can’t keep undressing him.

“Ya don’t have to do this,” he mildly protests. Simon knows if you don’t stop he isn’t going to be able to either and this dinner is going to take a detour, though he can’t lie that he wants you to keep going. 

Giving you a look, he waits to see if you stand back up, but you only smile as you pull your hands back out from underneath his. “I want to do this for you, baby,” you reassure, lifting the bottom of his shirt and leaning in to kiss along the light colored patch of hair that trails down into his boxers as you finish undoing his pants. 

How in the hell is someone supposed to resist this? Simon is strong, he would not have gotten far in life if he wasn’t, but not this strong. You reach the waistband of his underwear with your lips and meet the seam with your fingers to pull them down under his ass low enough that you can release his thick, fat cock.

He is hard already, the tip swollen and angry, and the veins running through it visibly throbbing. The inside of your mouth salivates as it remembers the feeling of being stuffed with that girthy appendage. You keep the spit gathered on your tongue as you lean in and open your lips.

Taking the tip of your tongue you trace the head of his cock as your hand at the base keeps his foreskin pulled back. A breathy moan rumbles out from somewhere deep inside his chest, low and guttural as his hips buck and his ass hits into the ledge of the kitchen counter, making his belt jingle from the movement.

“Fuck,” he chokes out as his head falls back and his eyelids momentarily close. “Forgot how that pretty mouth feels ‘round me.”

He can feel a tightening around him as your lips contort into a smile, excited that you can still make that big ol boy come undone with something as simple as your mouth. Clearly he has been just as worked up as you have been for him to get home. As Simon settles back against the countertop with his palm on your cheek, his thumb lovingly strokes the corner of your full mouth as you continue on.

Your lips around him, wet and messy, suck him in until his cock reaches the threshold of your throat. Those pretty eyes of yours lift back up to look into his face, keeping contact as you choke around him, vision swimming with tears while your head bobs up and down in a steady rhythm. Your lips are bright red and swollen from his kiss, your cheeks blossoming with heated color, that lust-drunk look plastered on your face; it all makes up the gorgeous picture. The visual makes his blood pressure rise until his limbs are vibrating with the racing beats of his heart. 

The slurping sounds of your saliva-filled mouth being fucked is punctuated by sparse gags; it hasn’t been this full for a while and it’s going to take some getting used to. Still, you don’t slow your pace, even as his hips begin thrusting against your face the longer you go. It’s like you’d rather suck him off than breathe and goddamn is that a turn-on. 

Simon releases your cheek so that he can rest his hands on the counter behind him. He hasn’t had you like this in so long that it doesn’t take much to overwhelm him now. That pressure deep inside is building to its peak, drawing his body to the edge of its release with each pass of your mouth over him from as far down the base as you can reach back to the tip. His hands grip hard into the surface behind him until his knuckles turn white.

Shit, he is going to come just like he knows you want, but it is at that moment that he realizes that he doesn’t want to just take this quick blow job and be done with you until later. Simon needs you, all of you, under his touch and at his disposal right this fucking second. Suddenly he is pulling out of your mouth and situating his cock back into the confines of his pants as you stare up at him with your head tilted in confusion. 

“What’s…” you start to ask, but before the words can even leave your lips you are being pulled to your feet. He doesn’t say a word as he wipes away a bit of spittle that has dripped from the corner of your mouth, using his thumb to remove it before he kisses you full force again. 

It's too much, too strong an all consuming feeling to stop and so without warning he pulls from you and throws you over his broad shoulder to carry you out of the room in a rush. He is frantic; he needs to have you now and can’t wait to drag you all the way to the bedroom. No, it’s too far.

Scanning around him as his aroused brain tries to find the fastest solution, he spots it. The dining table that you’ve set special for tonight is just a few feet away and he instantly brings you over to it. Dishes clank and clatter, ceramic and glass hitting itself as he hurriedly shoves everything out of his way to make room for your body before setting you on the surface.

"I know you’re not done cookin’, but I’m hungry for somethin' else," he breathes as he sets you down and lays you back. “I need ya now…waited too long for this.”

The movement has caused your shirt to get pulled up off your stomach and the uncovered area catches his eye; more skin that he desperately needs to claim and now. He brushes his fingertips down across your waist and over your navel, past to your lower abdomen until he lightly grazes the seam of your panties. He can feel the goosebumps forming under his touch and he can hear the hitch in your breathing the lower he gets. 

Reaching your sex he cups his wide palm over the mound and applies pressure. It is warm to the touch and he can feel it radiate into his hand. You buck against him, squirming at the unexpected sensitivity with a gasp. All that softness of your body, so delicate to the touch like silk against his skin, it’s too much for him to handle. Simon has had months and months of only rough, coarse, and rugged things from the brutal environment he was forced to endure, but the moment his fingers grace across all that balmy flesh his brain short-circuits.

It’s not just your looks that drive him wild, though. You are the one bit of happiness he keeps separate from the brutality of his work, the sanctuary that he looks forward to coming home to, the calm in his stormy existence. That's why he suggested he take care of the money so you could stay at home, not bother yourself with working, so that the harsh world wouldn't taint your sweet demeanor with its cruelty. And in return you take care of his life, never asking for anything as you make sure everything here runs smoothly.

"You're always takin’ care a me, makin' sure that everything is perfect when I get back home," he says as he gets more worked up. "Now it's my turn to return the favor. Goddammit, I just wanna screw the hell outta my pretty girl until she can’t move."

Firm hands cup against your hips as his fingertips slip between your panties and your warm skin, tangling them in the fabric so that he can pull them down your thighs and off your legs. Your bare petals faintly glisten as he gets a peak at them through the tight space between your legs, a product of his minimal touch already working on your body; nice to know he still has that effect on you no matter how much time you’ve spent apart. He slides his hands between your thighs, parting them easily as a knife in warm butter, until his hand is deep enough that he can stop and separate them so that the gap is wide and his body can easily fit in between.

"All this for me?” he asks as he stares like an animal starved at your pussy, mouth salivating to play. "Bet you’ve been achin’ somethin’ terrible since I left. Do ya need me ta fix that?”

“Yes,” you breathe.Your body is radiating with the intensity of every sensation that courses through your limbs like an electrical current everywhere Simon touches you.

“That’s a good girl,” he says as he glides his hand up so his fingers can part through the lips of your pussy.

Two of those thick fingers slide between the petals of your sex towards your entrance, gathering as much of your slick as he can on his digits. Carefully he teases them around the rim of your core, circling it through the dampness gathering in your slit. “One or two?” he asks as your back arches off the table, the stimulation driving you to the brink of insanity; it’s been too long since you’ve felt his fingers there.

You swallow hard. “T-two,” you beg. At this point, any amount will work as long as they are his and as long as they get inside you.

“Oh sweetheart, that’s what I like ta hear,” he praises as he aligns his fingers with your opening and slowly fits those two long fingers inside and up into you. “Fuck, there ya go. Just breathe for me, that’s it. Let your body do all the work and take ‘em in.”

They slip up further into your cunt and with a slow pace he begins to pump in and out of you while the overwhelming pressure causes you to arch your back up off the table. Instinctively, your hips buck against his hand, trying to make as much contact with him as possible. 

Those long, coarse fingers curl inside you continuously as his heavy palm rests over top of your sex to put pressure so that he can make more contact and cause more friction with your G spot as his thumb nestles against your clit. Your body writhes against the table, your head falling back with eyes closed as the twinges of pleasure spring up your spine and Simon is grinning from ear to ear to see he still knows how to work his sweetheart just the way she likes.

As he watches you fall apart to the stroking of his fingers, from the corner of sight he catches it: that bounce at the top of your torso under the shirt. It’s as if he suddenly remembers about those beautiful breasts as they rebound with his strokes and out of a drunken haze he is consumed by the need to see them.

Pushing the bottom of your shirt up over your chest, it’s revealed that you don’t have on a bra and his breath hitches to see those perky tits he’s been dreaming of burying his face in staring right back at him. Fuck, he can’t stop himself from getting at all that juicy meat and quickly he leans over you with a groan from the table so that he can reach you with his mouth. Lightly he grazes his teeth over the delicate skin of your nipple to make the little bud grow hard under the sharp contact.

"Oh God, Simon," his name falls from your lips in a breathy prayer.

The sweet sound of his name being spoken in such a desperate way only spurns him on; he needs to hear it as many times as he can make you repeat it, especially after not being able to hear it at all while he was gone. "Say it again," he demands, never lifting his face from your breasts, just switching sides periodically to get them both engaged.

His tongue flicks at the hardened nipple and it makes you whimper as the stimulation runs down your body like liquid fire until you can feel its effects radiating in your clit each time his thumb strokes over it. You know that he wants you to say his name again, but you don’t know if you can. It’s too much stimulation that you are losing your ability to speak.  

"Simon," you say as your voice shakes.  

His hum of satisfaction vibrates through the tissue of your breast. "Again," he repeats firmly before drawing it fully into his mouth. Latching on he takes as much of your breast as he can fit and sucks down hard. 

“S-simon,” your desperate voice clumsily moans. 

Tiny beads of sweat form along the line of your body as it burns with the intensity of the ecstasy you feel under his expert care. He’s in your head, in the very marrow of your bones; there isn’t a part of you that isn’t consumed by him. Those rough fingers grinding away into your pussy and his mouth on your body all pail in comparison to the way his kiss had felt on your lips. That desperate, consuming, overwhelming kiss is your drug and you need another hit.

Your fingers lace into his short hair and you tug hard to pull him from your chest, only then does he unlatch himself from your breast as you guide him back up to your mouth. Simon’s lips are nearly raw and yet he takes yours as roughly as he had in the kitchen, never slowing the pace of his finger fucking. 

It’s like liquid fire, your kiss, and he sucks down with a hunger that cannot be quenched. The sound of your sloppy lips match the wet slaps currently being produced between your legs. Simon is drunk as his mouth takes and takes and takes, and yet… 

His mouth craves more, another set of lips.

The pad of his tongue makes contact with your clit and you jolt, making the table creak as the over-stimulation sends shock waves through your needy body. You can feel the sigh he releases against you as he begins to suck on the nodule of pleasure while flicking it with his tongue; it’s hard to think amongst the staggering overstimulation is leaving you begging and pleading for mercy.

Simon pulls from you amidst your whined protests to drop to his knees before you, giving those thick thighs his attention. His face comes level with your pussy that is absolutely soaked from the work of his fingers and raising your legs to rest your ankles on his shoulders, he dives in. Instantly his face is buried in your heat and as he brushes his tongue through your slit his mouth is filled with your nectar, that tangy burst of flavor that he can not get enough of. It is slathering all over the lower half of his face, coating him from his nose to his chin in the scent of your arousal.

Your thighs squeeze around his head and then release. “I can’t…I-I can’t…” you murmur as you try to move from him.

His mouth releases from you. “Yes, yes ya can, baby. Now, come on my face,” he says fiercely as he grips into the muscle of your hips with all his strength, secures you to his sharp features, and dives right back in like a man starved. 

“F-f-fuck,” you groan as your hands seize the tablecloth in your fists, that coil of pleasure tightening in your stomach tighter with each flick of his tongue. 

Feverish movements against that erogenous button are no longer controlled as he devours all he can, forcing your body towards that ledge to throw you off into ecstasy. He craves it, burns for it, and would die for it: the way you feel, the way you taste, the way your hips writhe against his advances, it all makes him rabid.

As your breath grows shorter and shorter, he knows it's not far; just a bit more suffocation on his part and you will be done in. He moves his face down to tease your hole with his tongue as his nose takes over on your clit. You are so hot it feels like someone has set you on fire as the knot in your stomach gathers to its breaking point. It’s there, right there within reach; just a little more and you are going to come hard and he’ll get his wish. 

Those desperate whimpers quiet all of a sudden and he knows it’s happening; with a few more flicks of his tongue you plunge off the edge with a cry as your thighs clamp down tight around his ears so that he is blocked against you, but that is exactly what he wants. Those seconds after your orgasm shakes through you are his favorite: you writhing uncontrollably over him as he continues to stroke his tongue through you until that high has finally worn off.

Nothing has ever felt better and after not having this for months, it is pure heaven.

It isn’t until you settle down and your legs open back up that he emerges with his face covered in the sticky juices of your cum and his saliva. He is grinning like he has just been given a present, even as he wipes his mouth clean with the back of his hand before wiping the slick on his t-shirt.

“Fuckin’ fantastic as always, baby,” he breathes. “But I ain’t done with ya yet. I think we can get at least one more orgasm from ya right now. Come ‘ere.”

He helps your weak body to sit up on the edge of the table to embrace your lips, hoping to reinvigorate you to keep going with the intensity of his desire. You can taste yourself in his kiss, a mixture of sweet and salty that combines with his natural tang to become the flavor of your union. The kiss only lasts a few more seconds, but after just being made to come the exhaustion makes it feel like a lifetime… not that you are complaining.

Pulling from you, he tugs at the crotch of his pants; he can’t wait anymore. “I need ya ta get up and turn ‘round, sweet thing,” he says, guiding you up and rotating you around before pushing you back down onto the table, this time on your stomach. “Gotta get inside. Need ta fill ya.”

The sound of metal jingles as he lowers his pants as his knee pushes against your inner thigh to spread you wider. He releases his cock again and squats down lower so that he can align the tip with your entrance. You can feel it press through the swollen lips of your pussy and you ready yourself for that moment when you’ll be split open.

He can already feel your dampness on his cock as he guides it through and without hesitation he grabs your hips and thrusts inside all the way down to the very base of his cock. Simon instantly bottoms out and needs a second to collect himself; it’s been too fucking long since he’s been inside you and if he isn’t careful he is going to come to quick for him. 

Those rough fingers dig in deeper to your hips as he tries to hold on for dear life. “Goddammit, baby,” he groans. “I’ve missed this.”

His girth stretches your core wide to its limit so that the walls of your cunt can’t help but feel every single detail of his cock: every enlarged vein, the exact curve of it, each and every crease.

It’s like he’s imprinting it with his signature, letting your pussy know that the one it belongs to is home once again.

Hips begin to rock slowly at first and are immediately punctuated by deep-throated groans as he cannot keep himself calm for long no matter how hard he tries. Your body is too much like paradise, so devastatingly amazing that even though he is desperately clawing at his sanity it is slipping through his fingers faster and faster with each thrust like sand in a sieve. Pulling almost completely out of you he slams back into your core down to the base, repeating this over and over with a ferocity that only gets worse. 

Your body rocks, breasts bouncing and bunching the tablecloth as you are pressed into the surface; you can only moan as the uncomfortable fullness becomes euphorically intoxicating. The table squeaks and strains against each plunge of him deeper into your pussy, threatening to break under the force at any second. Plates and silverware clatter to the floor as they are knocked off and yet you do not care. He will just replace them anyway so there is no sense to take yourself out of the moment to worry about it. 

"Ya look so fuckin' pretty with my cock buried in ya," he grunts. "My sweet girl, my good little wife, always keepin' my balls empty. How'd I get so goddamn lucky to marry someone so good, yeah?"

Desperately he grinds harder and harder into you as if he cannot get deep enough, like he cannot fill you full enough. The recoil of your ass as he pounds into you from behind is something he can’t pull his sight from even if he wants to. He is mesmerized, watching himself disappear into the confines of your body only to reemerge more coated in your juices than when he went in. 

“I want ta feel ya pulse around me each letter of my name,” he says as his hand runs down the length of your spine. “Come on, baby, let me fuckin’ feel it.”

You follow his command and flex the muscles in your pelvis. Ten letters isn’t that much, not for him; you do it all for him, anything he asks, anything he needs because you know that he is just as whipped for you as you are for him and this is the way to keep him coming back like a good little pup.

He’s panting like a bitch in heat behind you. “That’s it, fuck, just as that.”

So wet, so tight, the pulsing, the throbbing, the speckles of sweat covering your bodies, his hands grabbing at skin, your hips grinding into him… it’s all too much. “Keep going,” you beg with a shudder. “Fuck, Simon right there.”

You can feel him hitting that sensitive spot inside, his cock pounding over it at the perfect angle, and your limbs tingle as the second coming is fast approaching. There is only one man who can make you come multiple times and it is and always has been your husband. And now his complete possession of your body is almost finished.

“Come on, my pretty girl, gimme another,” he urges enthusiastically as he hears your whimpers get louder while your body trembles. “I know ya have another for me and I fuckin’ want it.”

He pounds into you as if his life is dependent on your orgasm and you steady yourself by gripping onto the edge of the tabletop. The pressure builds and builds, a scourge to your sanity until all at once that bolt of hot electricity shoots through your limbs and your head falls forward with a whine as your second orgasm rockets through you so hard that you are left a mewling mess.

“Yes, yes, that’s it,” Simon growls as he finally allows himself to let go and all that build up, all that pining, all that longing for this moment comes to a head and with a few more hard, deep strokes inside your spasming pussy he too comes undone.

A roar rips through his chest as he pulls out and comes across your back, stroking his hand over his cock until he can milk himself dry. You close your eyes, laying your head down as he finishes and grabs a napkin that sits on the table above your head to wipe the cum off. His limbs feel heavy as he sits you back upright to face him. 

Simon simply stares into your face for a while, letting you both just work to catch your breaths. There are no words that need be said, not between you both. Once he is more calm, he gently pushes a strand of hair off your glistening face and tucks it behind your ear.  

“Ya did so well for me, sweetheart,” he says sweetly, placing a softer kiss on your lips as his heart slows. 

“Always for you,” you return with a smile against his lips. 

As you both stand there in the midst of the afterglow of your euphoria, a smell begins to waft in from the kitchen. It is unmistakably the scent of something burning. You poke your head around him just to be sure there isn’t a fire on the stove before turning back to his face.

“I hope you like your food burnt cause that’s what we’re gonna be having now,” you laugh as he pulls you back in for one more kiss, letting his forehead rest against yours.

“Guess its a good fuckin’ thing I filled up on the first course then,” he says as you tut in fake exasperation. He lowers his voice. “But ya know… if the food’s ruined, maybe we should just go ta bed.”

Something about the way he says it and the glint in his eye as you pull back, it doesn’t sound like you are going to be sleeping anything off.

[flower-blossoms654]

I love that even though Isha doesn’t speak, we still have such a good feel of her character. She is not less than because she doesn’t speak, nor is she looked over. She’s bright in every scene she is in, Zaun’s little sun with a toothy smile.

Just for a moment, we got to see how brightly she too saw the world. A pretty, bright, blue world in which she found someone to love and protect her with a ferocity she trusted instead of feared.

It was that love that strengthened her legs, that gave her the courage to shoot forward. It was that love that steadied her arm with the gun to protect her older sister, when it once shook and struggled to pull the trigger.

Isha “the one who protects”. And she did that as many times as she could, with tiny fists and heart and eyes full of gold.

It was understood that they had a bond before. The way Jinx’s hideout became brighter, and there was a corner made just for Isha. The way that Isha wanted her hair dyed just like Jinx’s. The hugs and laughter and the way she screamed when having to leave Jinx behind. The way she fiddled with gears and markers and drew clouds on her skin with shiny metal securing two braids in her hair.

But it all seems to make sense in that final scene. When it’s just Isha. It’s no longer the signs or echoes of love but Isha telling the audience directly. This is her song. This is her strength. This is her sacrifice. This is her love for Jinx, in every happy memory she has had with her. She communicates in a way that is so Isha. “The world is beautiful and so is my older sister. I love her and I want to protect her.”

And it transcends words.

It is simple for Isha. Jinx made her have faith in herself. Gave her a safe space to live freely. Loudly. With wide smiles and explosions. Blue smoke and powder.

Dancing together. Laying together. Coloring beetles and bugs before a dramatic battle. Jumping without fear of the landing or the fall. Covering her eyes in the bath as dye stains her hair. Nails in pink and blue polish securing the braids in her hair. Spray paint in blue and pink (she let her be blue, she let her be blue) as they run after each other. A secret handshake with finger guns. Jumping to scare her big sister, and the smile she earned after.

She was not scared to fall before because Jinx was holding her hand. Her hand shifts to form a familiar finger gun and a silly little “poow” leaves her lips. She is smiling. She is not scared now because Jinx was never afraid of the fall and she won’t be either.

Jinx needed someone to love her instead of fear her. And she got it. Isha was not Silco, she did not need to be darkened and drenched in blood to love something so unloveable.

“You feel it? That buzzing behind your eyes? Because you know, in a moment, it could all…poow! Best feeling in the world, kid.”

Close your eyes. Hear the buzzing and it reminds you of her. It rings in your ears like an embrace. A life marked by bad luck but not ruined by it—a life made so immeasurably better.

To Isha, Jinx was perfect. No “undoing” required.

[deadsetobsessions]

Danny is desperately running away. Not from a robber, they’re not much of a threat to him anyways, but from a really intense Batman.

“Oh my ancients,” he muttered as he sprinted away from the dude swinging above him. “Can you please go away?! I already paid you back, dude!” Danny raised his voice at the swooping figure above him. He wished he could go ghost, but that would break his cover so fast as a “meta” or whatever.

“Stop running,” Batman landed in front of him, growl reverberating around them.

“Stop chasing me then! It’s bad manners!” And Danny’s from the midwest, so that’s an actual concern.

“How did you find Two-Face?” Batman loomed before stepping back when Danny’s shoulders curled inwards.

“Oh. Is that what this is all about?” Danny huffed. “It was self defense! And… the pun was too good to not, you know? Yeah, no, I had to. Prime opportunity.”

The cowl might hide it but Danny always knew when people are doing that nose pinch of exasperation. It’s a talent he carefully cultivated through shenanigans and puns.

Batman? Definitely inwardly pinching the bridge of his nose.

“How did you find him? Harvey Dent is a dangerous criminal.”

“In my defense,” Danny started, like a teenager caught guiltily shoving the entire cookie jar into his room instead of leaving some for the rest of the family. “He found me first. Well, no, he found the kids first. He started it!”

Batman somehow raised an eyebrow. How the hell does he do that?? The cowl covered the entire upper half of his face! Danny squinted at him. Is Batman a meta?

“Listen, I didn’t start it, but my sister sure as heck taught me how to end it. It’s not my fault Dent couldn’t handle a beat down. And I told you I was gonna pay you back for that one (1) Big Dent! If you wanted cash, you should have said so!”

“Hrm.”

Maybe it was the fancy gear. Maybe it was the pointy head thing. Batman reminded Danny way too much of Vlad and he got the ick.

“Okay, well, good talk, bye!” Danny ducked and ran, faster than he had before.

Batman grappled up and forward, trying to grab him. Danny, with years of dodge training under his belt and impeccable teenage instincts of gtfo, managed to dodge Batman’s reaching hands with a hollered “OPE!”

“Bye! See you never!” Danny ducked behind an alley and turned invisible as Batman swooped past.

When he was sure the vigilante was gone, he slowly faded into the visible spectrum.

“Jeez. Better warn Amy about this. Maybe I should hide in Crime Alley until this blows past.”

——

Gotham’s underbelly had a new tale to sling around their bars that week and a new demographic to be wary of.

The Terrors, the kiddie gang that ran perpendicular to Crime alley, was preyed on by Harvey Dent.

“What do you think you’re doing to them?!”

“Ahhhhhh!!!” Harvey screamed, flailing as a creature of shadows and claws- god damn those sharp ass claws- descended upon him, scarring it just one side but both sides of his very vulnerable face!

“Back the hell off of my kids, you fashion reject!”

As for Harvey… well, he’s developed an aversion to the smell of peanut butter and small children.

——

Batman, hunting down Danny because he’s worried about the endangered meta kid: you left me a Dent.

Danny, because he sees a vigilante bum rushing him: I have no cash! That’s the only way I can pay you back rn!

——

Batman, trying to lecture Danny about safety because he’s a worried batdad:

Danny: ew a rich stalker trying to be my dad!

@tricksterwitchkat can you tell I’ve been thinking about your pun for days? This is for you, thank you so much for that pun, it made my entire week.

[sw5w]

Royal Cruiser Landing

STAR WARS EPISODE II: Attack of the Clones 00:02:57

[frownyalfred]

Bouncing off of the 'sleep deprived Batman freaks out over the JL meeting his kids' my fav trope to add to that is 'Batman freaks put over the JL meeting his Rogue/Anti-hero son' just the sheer panic combining with sleep deprivation making him just absolutly refusing to leave Red Hood's side. Maybe even combined with the whole 'Jason is the most alike kid to Bruce' so while Batman is freaking out, Superman and Diane are starting to realize that that's his kid, as they see them almost practically mirroring each other.

Ohhh, I love this. Mr. "hard on crime but if you LOOK at my outlaw son I will ruin you" who will not leave Jason alone with people who are sworn to the same ideals as him because Gotham has flexibility on those bits of morality, and Clark and Diana -- well, it's not as clear where they land on exceptions.

The terror of having Jason step forward and seeing something hard in Clark's eyes, all of a sudden. The fear that would build, upon seeing Diana shift in place, gearing up for a conflict with Red Hood. And it's Jason, Jay, that Bruce is suddenly standing in front of, playing negotiator and words spilling from him faster than they ever have because every second counts, with them.

[kaciidubs]

Catnip and Kidnappings

Hi, 🧿 nonnie! This one's been a long time coming, and though it doesn't have much smut, I hope you still enjoy it! ❣ Summary: You just needed to go to the pet store for two things - so why were you suddenly in a car with a man you didn't know? ❣  ❣ Word Count: 2.5k+ ❣ Warnings: Mafia! AU, fluff, meet cute, implied danger, slight humor, cat talk, reader is a bit sassy but so is Minho ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

Two things. You just needed two things from the pet store, then you would be back home with your lovely tabby cat and show you’d been putting off for the better half of two weeks because it just ‘wasn’t the right time’.

So how, you ask, did you manage to find yourself hurriedly escorted away from the storefront of the pet store by a man you’d just met?

Well, you could target the beginning of the end the moment you stepped foot into the pet store, making your way to the cat aisle on instinct with your goal clear in your mind; catnip and premium cat food.

Premium cat food - you wished you could trick your furry child into eating a cheaper form of food, but his picky eater tendencies had set him in his ways ever since your mother decided to spoil him and introduce him to the world of Sheba pate and cuts of various meat and fish flavors; the same woman who claimed she didn’t like cats, yet bought him almost all of his toys.

Huffing out a quiet laugh at her change of heart, you bent to grab a box of the food packs, silently thanking the corporate gods that it was still on sale, before heading deeper into the aisle to grab the second item on your mental list.

You scanned the rack with the box still in your arms, adjusting it slightly every now and then until your eyes landed on the empty spot that usually had the brand of catnip you needed.

“Wonderful…”

“If you’re looking for catnip like that brand, you could go with the one with the red label - they look different because of the companies, but they’re really the same ingredient wise.”

“Oh, really? Thank-” The next word immediately died on your tongue as you turned your head, ready to thank a store worker but, instead, you were met with possibly the handsomest man you’d ever laid your eyes on.

Sharp eyes and a nose that looked like it belonged on a marble sculpture, paired with lips set in a faint frown and the prettiest jawline you’ve ever seen - he was gorgeous.

He seemed to either not notice your brain freeze or blissfully ignore it as he stepped closer to pick up the container before placing it on top of the cat food box in your arms.

“I have three cats and they all like both brands, there isn’t really a difference besides the fact that you don’t have to use as much of this one as the other one, which makes it better considering the price.”

Once his eyes finally met yours, you felt your brain kick back into gear, “O-Oh, okay, thank you so much!”

He hummed out a small sound of acknowledgement, giving you a curt nod and reaching forward to grab a container of his own; his eyes scanning across the small printed words for a moment before he looked to you once more. “Do you need help? Carrying that, I mean.”

“This? No, no, I’ve got it handled.” You adjusted the box once more, the catnip container sliding to the right until you balanced it out quickly, “All good, thanks again, though.”

Before you could embarrass yourself more than you already had, you thanked him once more and shuffled past him and out of the small aisle in record time, mentally cursing whatever line of fate led you down this path.

Placing your items on the conveyor belt, the cashier greeted you as they scanned your items and you typed in your rewards card onto the card reader’s keypad.

“Are you getting this, too?”

“What?” Looking up, you stared at the catnip in their hand with confusion creasing your brow.

“Um-”

“Yes, we are.”

The familiar voice made a chill run down your spine, your head whipping to see the same man from before, the faintest of curves to his otherwise neutral expression alleviating his otherwise stoic demeanor.

Shrugging lightly, the cashier proceeded to scan the second container before announcing the total.

Pressing his black card to the one-tap reader, he seamlessly slid it back into his wallet before stuffing it back into his pocket, “Think of it as a little gift for your cat, they deserve to be treated.”

For being stunned for the second time that day, your recovery was just as fast, “I’ll make sure to let him know a kind stranger cares about his picky habits.”

He huffed out a quiet chuckle, but that was more than enough to inflate your ego and make your heart flutter, quickly taking back your previous curse to thank fate instead.

After grabbing your bag of items, you made your way out of the store with your new companion following suit.

“So… Was that really just a gift for my cat? You don’t have any ulterior motives, do you?” You mused, turning to look at him fully as you stood outside of the storefront.

Shaking his head, he raised his hands in defense, “It’s just a gift - like I said, I have three cats so I know how it can get, better than most. Besides, the picky eater phase is really rough on the pockets at the worst of times.”

“Well, Miso appreciates your generosity.”

“Miso… cute.” He hummed softly, though his true excitement was evident in the small glimmer in his eyes.

“Do I have the honor of knowing your name?” Clocking the possible unintended implication of the question, you quickly backtracked, “Um- Just so Miso knows who he can thank while eating his pate salmon, of course.”

His lips parted to speak but closed twice as fast, his once relaxed smile turning into a firm line as he looked at you - almost enough to look through you, or rather, past you.

As you went to turn your head to gauge for yourself, you were stopped by the warmth of his hand around your wrist, winning your attention for himself like jingling keys in front of a baby.

“Let me bring you home, and I’ll tell you on the way.”

You felt your heart flutter, though you couldn’t ignore the unease creeping up your spine, “I appreciate it, but you really don’t have to-”

“I just want to make sure you make it home safely.” His mouth pressed into a tight lipped smile and his grip tightened ever so slightly, “Trust me.”

Maybe it was the fact that he sounded so sincere, aligning with the image of the kind man you’d seen in the pet shop, or perhaps it was the way his firm gaze flickered with a hint of urgency, but you found yourself nodding softly.

“Okay.”

With that, you were tugged down the sidewalk and around the corner, hurried footsteps falling alongside his long strides in hopes of keeping up.

“Is- Is there something wrong? What’s happening?”

“Everything’s fine.”

You bristled at his nonchalant, clipped tone, falling back on your pace by half a step. “I have a feeling you weren’t lying to me before, so, please, don’t start lying to me now.”

Feeling your resistance, he took a short breath and spoke, “Nothing’s wrong yet, and nothing is happening - I’d rather keep it that way, if you don’t mind.”

“But what did you see?”

“Someone who has no business trying to approach me in public unless they’re looking to start something they have no chance of finishing. I have no desire in getting innocent people caught up in those types of affairs.”

“Those types?” Your eyes widened as you neared a black car - slim, sleek, and a model that you had no chance of owning for yourself on your current pay grade. “Are you-”

“I’m no one.” He shut you down with ease before reaching forward to open the passenger’s side door, “Get in.”

Putting a temporary pin in your conversation, you quickly slid into the car, the faint scent of jasmine mixing with the musk of sandalwood and leather seats filling your nose; watching through the windshield as the black haired man rounded the car before sliding into the driver's seat.

“I don’t think a nobody just casually owns a car like this,” clicking your seatbelt into place and setting your bag on the floor, you shot him a wary glance, “if you’re going to kidnap me, Miso’s going to be royally pissed.”

The car’s engine roared to life, masking his light chuckle but doing next to nothing in hiding the slight uptick of his lips. “I’m not a kidnapper, though I’ll make an exception if Miso’s as cute as you make him out to be.”

With that, he shifted the gear and drove out of the parking lot, using the one-way street to get away from the pet store and the unknown assailant. Buildings and cars passed by in a blur after you told him your address, your hands nonchalantly turning your phone while the silence was placated with the sound of the engine and the radio - though, you had no hope of hearing what the song was from how low the volume was.

Taking a deep breath, you turned toward him, eyes tracing over his unfairly handsome side profile. “So… Is this the part where you tell me who you are?”

“I told you, I’m no one,” he hummed simply, eyes trained on the road ahead.

“And I told you I don’t like liars - you still owe me your name, you remember that, right? Now, since you’re saving me from some unknown evil, you owe me a full introduction.”

He glanced over at you, amused astonishment filling his face, “For someone who’s in the hands of a complete stranger, you make a lot of demands.”

“Think of it as your atonement for giving me two new life experiences in one when I was minding my own business buying catnip.”

You could just barely catch him rolling his eyes, muttering under his breath and hearing the words ‘worse’ and ‘friends’.

“Minho.”

“Minho?”

Minho rocked his head to the side, huffing, “My name is Lee Minho, I have three cats - Soonie, Doongie, and Dori - and I’m a businessman. I like going to that pet store because they donate some of their profit to shelters, and I know about the catnip brands because I have three cats - changing brands is a nightmare whether it’s one cat or several.”

A small smile found its way to your lips at the new information, your mind running wild at the image of this enigma of a man playing with three cats of his own. “Okay… But, when you say businessman, what type of business do you do?”

“The type that prefers to go unmentioned to civilians for their safety.”

“What- Like working for some secret branch of the government? Are you a cult leader? A member of the mafia?” An incredulous giggle bubbled past your lips, though when his demeanor grew colder, your stomach dropped. “You’re… You’re not, right?”

“What’s your name?”

“What?”

The car rolled to a stop at a red light, granting him the grace to look at you, brown eyes locking to yours with a firm stare. “You never told me your name. If you tell me your name, I’ll tell you my job - it’s your repentance for asking me more questions past my introduction. If you don’t want to tell me, then don’t, but I won’t tell you my job.”

Your name for his profession, your safety in exchange for his safety - it was only fair, truly.

Taking a deep breath, your name fell from your lips with a small air of confidence, “You already know about my cat, and my job pays just enough to support his picky eating habits. I like that pet store because they hosted an adoption event that brought Miso into my life, and I’ve been supporting them ever since.”

He made a sound of confirmation before turning his attention back to the road, pressing the gas as the light turned green and continued the journey to your apartment.

His choice of silence was almost enough to have your conscience second guessing your decision, until you noted the way his fingers drummed against the steering wheel; twitching, anxious, compared to the streamlined, firm grip he’d showcased at the beginning of the drive.

Eventually your apartment building came into view, the car slowing to a stop once he reached the front door.

“Well…” Lingering for a moment longer, you looked at him in hopes of seeing him turn to you one final time to honor his end of the agreement, but when he remained staring at the road ahead, you let it go. “I guess this is goodbye - thank you for what you’ve done for me, Lee Minho, I appreciate it.”

As you went to unbuckle your seatbelt, his hand wrapped around your wrist, his touch sending a chill down your spine and stealing your attention just like he did outside of the pet shop.

“I’m part of the mafia,” Minho spoke plainly, his tone emotionless, statement oriented, “the person I saw earlier was someone we’ve done business with before, some low life’s henchman most likely sent to get even, that’s why I wanted to get away like I did. I didn’t want our chance encounter to end with you getting hurt - you did nothing wrong, and I wanted to make sure you would be safe.”

The mafia… You weren’t sure if him being a cult leader would’ve been better or worse than this, but staring into his eyes, you could feel it wasn’t a joke, nor an elaborate cover up.

“What I said before, about not mentioning what I do for the safety of others… I swear to you that you’ll be safe after this - I’ll make it my personal job of making sure nothing happens to you because of this, okay? No lingering ties or deals to be made, you’ll be under our watch until we take care of that stunt they tried to pull.”

His promise eased the first stretch of fear growing within you, though the rest would have to be handled once you had the proper time to process your less than normal morning.

Nodding, you slipped your wrist from his grasp and grabbed your bag, turning to get out of the car until you froze.

“If you’re worried, you don’t have to-”

You leaned across the center console and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, a sign of gratitude, “Thank you, Minho.”

Reaching into your bag, you placed his container of catnip in his hand then quickly left the car - making your way up the flight of stairs to the lobby’s doors,only to turn around to see him patiently waiting for your entrance before slipping your way past the glass doors.

On the elevator ride up to your apartment, you couldn’t help it as your thoughts ran through the events like a film reel, though you weren’t sure if it was to get over the shock of reality, or to commit the image of that man to your memory.

Lee Minho, cat owner and catnip expert.

Lee Minho, morally gray mafia member.

Lee Minho, a man you hoped you would see in the pet store again.

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: Tagged lovelies will now be done within the comments of the post due to Tumblr's tagging system being broken, thank you for understanding.

@luminouskalopsia, @zaethefangirl, @chxnb97, @sometimesleeknows, @hyunjinloverrrr, @rhonnie23, @channieswife, @beautyinhypnosis

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

[moonvis]

I NEED YOU ALIVE

Steve Rogers x F! Avenger! Reader Incl. Sam, Tony, and Bucky x Natasha Summary: Steve can't wait to propose, but when a mission goes south, he's not sure he'll get the chance after all Warnings: Angst to fluff! Some cursing. Some blood and injuries. 2.5k words.

Steve carefully opened the blue velvet box in his hand, revealing a simple yet beautiful engagement ring. Light reflected onto the golden material, a small diamond on top. Steve knew his girl liked it simple, so that was what he got. A warming smile grew on his lips as he imagined the ring perfectly fit on her finger.

Bucky gently nudged at his pal’s side, a smirk present on his face. Steve chuckled as a response, speaking in a low voice, “This is it Buck. I’m proposing tonight after the mission.” It was Y/N and Steve’s two-year anniversary after all, but unfortunately they had to go on a last-minute mission before celebrating.

“M’ happy for you pal. She’s gonna love it.”

Steve had been carrying the ring in his picket ever since he bought it, looking at it every now and then  - even at the risk of Y/N spotting him. Bucky had reminded it of such many times before, “Might put it away before your girl sees it.”

The whole team were gathered inside the jet, but luckily Y/N was sat opposite of the super soldiers, occupied in a conversation with Natasha. Steve let out a happy sigh and closed the box, “You know how it is Buck…”

Bucky did indeed understand; he understood the excitement Steve was feeling, the thought of spending the rest of a lifetime with the love of his life. The former Winter Solider had proposed to Natasha just a few months earlier anyways.  

Bucky patted the blonde’s shoulder, “One more mission, and she’s all yours.”

“Right.” The Captain put the box back in his most secure pocket and got up. Time to get over with the mission. Walking into the middle of the jet, he spoke up, “Okay team. One last recall on the mission plan.”

Y/N gave him her immediate attention, admiring Steve in his Captain America stance. Steve gave her a small smile before he continued talking, “Y/N and Nat will get the files. Buck, Sam and I will go for the hostages, while Tony-” Steve turned to the billionaire, “You work as a shield around the base. This is a last-minute mission, which means we gotta be prepared for anything. Sam will back you up if needed.”

“Dream team,” Y/N commented from beside Natasha, giving her a pound, “Let’s go.”

Tony turned in his seat and prepared the jet for arrival, just outside the Hydra base, “Check your gear everyone! We land in three.”

As the they landed, Steve guided for Y/N to come over, which se gladly did. The Captain put his shield on his back, before caressing his girlfriend’s face, his brows softening as they made eye contact, “Be careful, okay? You know I hate separating from you on missions. So please, don’t take any unnecessary risks. I need you back in one piece.”

Unbeknownst to Y/N, Steve was referring to the upcoming secret proposal, thinking of the ring hidden in his pocket. He needed his future bride to make it back from the mission alive.

“That goes both ways,” Y/N raised a brow and smiled, “But yes, I promise.” With a quick kiss, they bid each other good luck before Y/N jogged off to join Natasha.

“Come on pal, let’s go.” Bucky said form beside the Captain. Steve couldn’t help feeling a little uneasy though, watching his girl disappear out of sight. Shrugging it off, he nodded at Bucky before leading the way.

Y/N and Natasha snuck up to the first entrance where four Hydra agents were guarding the door. Y/N looked over at the redhead mouthing, “Element of surprise?”, gaining a nod in response. On three, Y/N launched forward and kicked one man to the ground, before ducking as another tried to shoot her.

Natasha was already slamming the shooter into a third Hydra agent, while Y/N knocked out the guy beneath her. Finishing off, she shot the fourth and last guy running at Natasha. The girls gave each other a pound before continuing further into the base.

“Y/N look!”

Y/N turned to face Natasha, her eyes following whatever the redhead was pointing at. A staircase, leading up to a glass covered room holding what seemed like computers.

“Just what we were searching for,” Y/N winked and ran towards the stairs, stopping when a pair of Hydra agents suddenly appeared at the top. Y/N was a quick and precise shooter when it came to guns, not arrows, that was Barton’s specialty.

Fast, she brought out her gun and shot both agents in their head before they got the chance to react. Natasha came up beside her, impressed, “Not bad, but save some for me, will you?”

“Then you gotta keep up,” Y/N teased. Natassha rolled her eyes and followed her friend up the stairs. As they reached the computer-room, the coast seemed to be clear, with no booby-traps in sight.

“Awesome. Go do your thing,” Y/N winked at Natasha who entered the room, before she spoke into the comms, “Mission report. We found the computer-room.”

“Good. Get those files and stay on guard,” Steve reported back, “We just found the hostages. Getting them out now.”   

Natasha was skilled when it came to hacking, so downloading the files were like a baby’s work. It was when they thought they were safe to leave the base, things started to heat up.

“We got the files, heading out now!” Natasha spoke into the comms, following Y/N out of the room.

“Copy that.” The Captain sounded satisfied, “And the hostages are brought to safety. Everyone return to the jet.”   

While Tony gave his own report into the comms, the ladies of the team faced a sudden surprise outside the computer-room. Out of nowhere, a gunshot sounded through the hall, followed by the sound of Natasha’s agonizing scream.

She had been hit.

Y/N was quick to react and shot the Hydra agent who had fired and felt a knot in her stomach as she watched her friend fall to the floor. “Nat, shit!” Y/N rushed over and fell to her knees, “Hold still.”

Natasha had been shot through the leg, thick blood flowing out of her wound. Y/N ripped a piece of clothing of her own suit and wrapped it around the redhead’s leg. Bringing a hand up to her comm, her shaking voice spoke up, “Nat’s been hit! We need backup asap!”

“What!?” The frantic voice of Bucky sounded through the comms, “Where are you? I’m coming!”

“We’re just outside the computer room. West part of the base. Please, hurry!” Y/N’s worried voice responded back, before she shifted her attention back to Natasha, “Hold on Nat. Bucky’s coming.”

Natasha was weak, the wound being dangerously deep. The redhead brought out her hand for Y/N to hold, which she instantly accepted. Y/N felt scared, she couldn’t carry Natasha out of there herself, nor would she leave her behind. The last thing she needed was more Hydra agents approaching them in such a vulnerable state.

As if the universe hated them, the voices of more Hydra agents could be heard from downstairs, “They’re up there! Let’s go!”

Shit.

“Guys, hurry! There’s more agents and I can’t deal with them alone with Nat like this!” Y/N yelled into the comms, readying her gun for anything. Right now, protecting Natasha was the only thing she cared about.

“On my way!” Tony said though the comms, his voice stern with a hint of concern.

Steve felt his heart twist and turn, the sickening feeling in his stomach not helping. If he knew his girl correctly, she would do anything in her power to protect Natasha. Even if it meant putting her own life at risk. “Don’t do anything stupid Y/N! We’re on our way!”

“Hold on baby, I’m on my way!” Was Bucky’s words trough the comms. Natasha let out a shaky breath at his voice, clearly getting a bit of relief from it.

As the first Hydra agent made his way up the stairs, Y/N shot him in the head, making him fall into the one coming up right behind him. Y/N got up on her feet and saw at least six more agents running up to get them, “What the fuck?”

“Y/N you need to-” Natasha spoke thought a cough, “Get your ass out of here.”

“Forget it. I’m not leaving you.” Y/N’s voice was stern, so was her stance. As more agents ran towards her, she shot them. One, two and-

Her gun was out of bullets.

In the moment of panic, she took a step back before throwing her gun at the floor. Reaching for her knife, she spoke through the comms again, “My gun’s out, and these bitches keep on coming. Hurry!”

“Fuck, we’re almost there doll!” Steve was panicking. He could run fast alright, but coming from the other side of the base was quite the long way, “Tony!”

“Almost there Cap!”

Taking advantage of Y/N’s moment of distraction, the next Hydra agent tackled her to the floor. She usually managed to take out a guy alone, but as another agent joined in to hold her down, she struggled.

Natasha noticed and couldn’t just lay and watch. The redhead gritted her teeth together and lifted herself slightly off the floor, pointing her gun at one of the agents. Trough her blurred vision, she shot him in the arm. The man screamed in pain and let go of Y/N.

Unfortunately, the Hydra agent realised Natasha was still a threat, even in such a state, and went forward to grab her instead. The man lifted Natasha by the collar and dragged her towards the stairs, pointing his gun at her, “This is what you get little bitch!”

His words grabbed Y/N attention, her eyes widening, “No!”

Everything from there happened so fast. One second she was pushing Natasha out of the way, and the next, she was falling down the stairs with a fresh bullet-wound to her side.

In the moment of tragedy, Iron Man came flying in, catching Y/N only seconds away from having her head slammed on the cold hard ground. Holding her with one hand, he blasted the last remaining agents dead, before finally landing. Tony gently put her down, his mask revealing the distressed features on his face, “My god-”

“Natasha!” The yell and sight of Bucky came in view. He spotted his fiancé at the top of the stairs, not hesitating to get to her side. Right behind came Steve and Sam, having no idea what would meet their eyes.

The exact moment Steve spotted Y/N lying beside Tony, he felt his stomach drop. The Captain rushed to her side, falling onto his knees as dust flew in the air, “Oh my god--”

As Tony put pressure on her wound, Steve brought his hand up to caress her cheek, “Oh my god Y/N, you-”

“M’sorry Stevie…”

“No, don’t you say that!” Steve was panicking, his eyes going up to meet Tony’s, “What do we do?!”

Composing himself, Tony got up from the ground, “She don’t have much time. We need to get her help, asap! I’ll get the jet ready, you bring her.”  

Steve felt his breath quickening at Tony’s words. As he watched Iron Man fly off, Steve shifted his attention back to his girl. Fresh tears streamed down his cheeks as he spoke, “I’m sorry doll, but this is gonna hurt.” Steve, as gently as he could, lifted her up in his arms, shutting out her agonizing scream to concentrate.

“Hold on doll, I’m bringing you home,” Steve promised as he ran the fastest he ever had. He watched as his girl grew heavier in his arms, her eyelids trying to fall shut. “Don’t you dare close your eyes!” Fuck he was worried.

“I’m not losing you today doll, just keep your eyes open, please.” Steve begged as he noticed how quickly his girl faded.

“M’sleepy…” Y/N wasn’t thinking clearly anymore, not feeling much either. She was just happy her last moments would be in the hands of the man she loved.

“No, I can’t let you to that. You need to stay awake, sweetheart. Please.” Steve cried as Y/N’s eyes closed, knowing there was nothing else he could do but run. “No, no, no, Y/N! Stay with me, please!”

As Y/N went completely numb in his hands, the solider screamed out in frustration. The jet was right in front of him, and as soon as he got to lay her body down, he fell to his knees, silent sobs shaking his broad shoulders.

His hand reached into his pocket, fingers tightening around the blue velvet box. She couldn’t die on him, not like this. He still had an important question to ask her.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Just like he had been doing for the last few days, Steve sat by her bedside, listening to the monitor telling him she was still alive.

Steve refused to leave her side. Sam had tried to at least make him take a shower after the mission, but he still wouldn't budge. Steve had to be present the exact moment Y/N woke up.

“Hey, pal,” Bucky entered the room, “How’s she doing?”

Steve let out a sigh, letting his eyes leave Y/N for just a moment to look at his friend, “You know… the same.”

“Hey, I could watch her for a while if you need some rest,” Bucky suggested, but the Captain only shoot his head, “You know she’s gonna be mad when she wake up and realises you didn’t take care of yourself.”

“So be it,” Steve stoke his thumb over the soft skin of her hand, “I just can’t leave her side. I thought she was gone Buck. You saw it! Her heart stopped, twice!” Fresh tears streamed down Steve’s face at the memory playing in his head.

The day on the injury, Y/N’s heart stopped twice if not more, and it scared the hell out of Steve. He had to see the world crumbling down before his eyes, only for the universe to prank him. It made him angry. Oh, how he hated Hydra, for almost taking away his future.

Bucky didn’t comment Steve’s words. It could easily have been Natasha in that situation, but Y/N had saved her without hesitation. He would be forever grateful – he just couldn’t bear the thought of his best friend losing the love of his life instead.

Luckily, Y/N was recovering.

“You look like shit…” A crocked voice came from the room. Steve’s head shot up in surprise, eyes landing on her beautiful ones looking back at him. Bucky smiled and rushed out of the room, going to get a doctor.

“Y/N? Oh my-” Steve gasped, rapid breaths escaping him, “Fuck, Y/N, I thought I lost you.” Steve reached forward and cupped her cheek, not even bothering to hold back the sobs that followed.

“M’sorry…” Y/N let out a shaky breath, still adjusting to the light and pain in her stomach, “And uh- how long was I out for?”

“Five days,” Steve responded, still in disbelief his girl was finally awake, “Thank god you’re okay, doll. I love you so damn much.”

Y/N was a little taken back by the number of days but shook it off as she watched Steve’s broken expression. She tapped at the empty spot beside her, guiding for Steve to lay down. He hesitated for a moment, scared of hurting her, but accepted when she looked at him with pleading eyes.

“How’s Natasha doing?” Y/N asked as she remembered the redhead.

“She’s okay,” Steve sounded a bit hesitant, “Thanks to you I’ve heard.”

“Steve… I’m sorry for being reckless, I just-”

Steve sighed and reassured her, “It’s okay, I’m just glad to have you back alive. We’ve been at this one before; I’d do the same for Bucky and so on.”

Y/N chuckled and rested her head against his shoulder, hearing his rapid heartbeat.

Letting out a shaky breath, Steve turned to face her properly, his eyes softening as he looked at her smile. He reached into his pocket to grab the blue velvet box he had so patiently waited to give her.

“Y/N, this is not how I imagined doing this, but-” Steve brought the box forwards. Y/N’s eyes widened at the sight, her hand coming up to cover her gasping mouth, “Steve…”

Steve opened the box to reveal the beautiful ring, his eyes plastered on her the whole time. Her widening smile and teary eyes made his heart melt, “After almost loosing you, I can’t wait any longer. Please, will you do me the biggest honour of becoming my wife?”

“Oh my gosh! Yes!” Y/N cheered with the little energy she had and let Steve put the perfectly fit ring on her finger, “It’s beautiful Steve!”

Steve let out a soft chuckle, “I know this isn’t an ideal way to propose but-”

“It’s perfect!” Y/N assured him and reached forward to press a kiss on his lips. Though as she moved, a sudden pain overwhelmd her stomach, “Fuck!”

“Shit, are you okay?” Steve went straight into being protective, watching his fiancé shut her eyes in pain. As she didn’t respond, he grew worried, at least, until she started giggling. “Fuck that hurt.”

“You scared me doll,” Steve let out a sigh and reached forward to plant a kiss on top of her head, “You sure know how to pain an old man’s heart.”

Before Y/N got the chance to respond, a doctor came into the room, Bucky following suit, “Sorry for ruining the moment, but we need to check if everything is okay.”

“That’s fine, I know you’ll take care of my fiancé.” Steve kissed the top of her head and left the bed, going to stand beside Bucky.

The brunette punched Steve in the arm, “Now you can finally stop the obsessive ring gazing. I’m happy for you pal.”

“Thanks Buck.” Steve's eyes didn’t leave her figure as he stood there. He watched as she laughed with the doctor, a smile plastered on her face, even though she just woke up from a fay day long coma. She was such a ray of sunshine – she warmed his heart.

Oh, and to believe she would be his for ever.

[creganslover]

Woman Like You

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Fem! Warrior! Reader

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: Skilled as a warrior like your husband, you both made the dangerous pair... the latest battle proves just how much you mean to him.

Word count: 1.6k

Warning/s: canon-typical violence, graphic descriptions of violence, mentions of blood and death, near character death, cregan being whipped for his woman

Note: loved making this omg

GIF is not mine, credits to the owner!

It had been a harrowing battle, not knowing left from right, up from down as bodies rallied against one another, the clash and clinging of swords ringing in your ears, horses whinnying as their rider had been dismounted only to be slain. 

The amount of bodies falling over with no longer a life to them, and there you also stood fighting, a female warrior, married to Cregan Stark, the two of you making the dangerous pair through your cunning skills and Cregan’s exposure to battle.

Now both of you were fighting under the Queen Rhaenyra’s banners, honouring the oath Rickon Stark, Cregan’s late father had made under Viserys’ proclamation for Rhaenyra as his heir. 

Before the battle had started, you were in your shared tent with Cregan, as the troops were began to be rounded up to march, a thousand of his greybeards and your own army of blackwings, the two of you preparing each other in their armour, the action done in silence as you both strapped your gears on. 

It was Cregan’s hand grabbing your wrist that made you halt your movements, your eyes finally meeting his. Both of you had trusted each other out and in the field, though both of you knew every battle forward had counted, and that you would treat it as the last. 

“Promise you will return to me.” Cregan’s husky voice spoke in a whisper, staring you down with a tender gaze, blue flecked with hazel eyes searching yours, grip momentarily tightening on your wrist to travel down to squeeze your hand. As done countless times, you reply, “Always.” Never failing to give him a smile, making him mirror it with a chuckle of relief at your reassurance. 

Until you had gotten separated from your husband in the heat of the battle, you two had held out well even when separated yet it felt like the enemies had just kept on coming, banging the end of your shield at your attacker’s face, sending them lunging back as you thrusted your sword in their stomach, cutting clean through before you had pulled it off, flecks of blood spraying as the man hurled in pain, dropping to the ground.

You had not known how long the battle had raged for, all that you knew was your muscles had begun to strain, dodging and putting on the offence as you could, dirt and blood scattered everywhere. 

Successfully putting down another opponent, another came rushing to you, sword slicing part of your arm, making you cry out as they had also managed to land a hard blow to your side, that would surely be a nasty bruise. 

Still, you were not as easily felled as they thought, managing to regain back your senses, adrenaline pumping within your veins as your grip on your sword had tightened, letting out a yell as you swung and advanced, hitting left to right, sword slicing efficiently at the man’s side as you threw your broken shield away, holding your sword, Ashbringer, in both hands before thrusting it upon the man’s neck, blood running down the steel of your sword before pulling it out. 

That’s when a series of arrows had been launched into the sky, not knowing which was which as you tried to deflect some by grabbing your shield yet again, though an arrow had already dug itself onto the back of your shoulder, making you groan, using your strength to cover yourself with your shield as the arrows had landed. 

When the arrows had stopped, your mind had fogged, vividly you saw Cregan’s face in your mind as the words he had uttered to you hours before rang. 

Return to me 

・・・・・

Cregan had litters of bodies lay around him as he became the opposing side’s target, knowing his worth and they had intended to cut him off. His broad form swung his sword Ice, not opting for a shield as it only hindered his movements. 

His men yelled around him, his graybeards killing tens of the opponents as they had only managed to fell a few of Cregan’s men. They were winning, they had the upper hand. Cregan only needed to push a little further, and all of this would cease. 

“The Lady!” 

“Keep Fighting!”

“Arrows inbound!”

Cregan felt his blood suddenly run hot, head snapping around him as the shouts grew in intensity, until his eyes spot a distant blur. You as he looked to the sky to find rains of arrows, making Cregan react and haul a body from the ground, using it as his shield as bouts of arrows pierced through its body, his eyes wide and alert and searching for you. 

He was able to see you defending yourself, staggering, an arrow on the back of your shoulder, the pained look on your face.

Cregan saw red. 

The rumbling in his chest grew to a roar as he screamed, throwing the arrow-clad body to the ground before he shouted. “You want me? Come get me!” 

Enemies turned their heads towards him as Cregan swung Ice at the oncoming assailants, ignoring the burning in his whole body as he and his sword had moved as once, determined to get to you, his wife. He was covered in dirt and blood that wasn’t his, except for the minor cuts on his face, and the bruises he had felt forming onto his body. 

Alas his enemies fell one by one as his men fought valiantly, Cregan making his way to you as he managed to grab you in time before you fell, careful to handle the arrow still peeking from behind your shoulder. 

The battle had begun to die down, Cregan still holding you in his arms as he looked at you, his heart never wavered in battle nor showed vulnerability before, now it did as he shook you lightly, inspecting you. “(Y/N),” he repeated before his men had spotted the scene, immediately calling for aid. 

“Stay with me, as you promised.” Cregan breathed. 

・・・・・

Darkness. That’s all you could see, with your body feeling light as a feather. 

It felt like you were floating on some void, where it held nothing but peace. You tried reaching out, but a flicker of orange lit in the distance, a smooth glow, followed by the smell of the forest trees, like a campfire. 

You watched as the orange glow began to scatter, spreading the dark void with its own colour, and then you sensed some sort of pull, until it had become stronger. 

Your eyes opened. Blurry at first, blinking a few more moments as everything slowly began to sink in, body feeling numb as you tried to shift on the cot. Looking around your surroundings, you were in your tent, back at camp perhaps? 

A woman stood by the table, preparing her herbs, a healer, you recognized. It was your healer Taisa, and when she had turned around, her eyes widened as she placed the bowl hurriedly back down. “My lady!” She said in surprise, knowing she had been commanded by Lord Stark himself to alert him if his wife had awoken at once. 

Taisa was already running out the tent before you could utter a single word, or yet you were unable to from your body still processing what it had went through.

Your shoulder was bandaged that wrapped around your torso peeking from your loose tunics, along with your left arm that had blood starting to soak through as you moved, making you groan as you assessed yourself. 

Cregan had been manning the map room, along with the other lords and their army in ally, pacing around and spewing all kinds of forms of defenses and offenses, it had been hours since the battle had ceased, taking in few left live opponents as prisoners. 

Cregan was pacing until the tent flap shifted, revealing Taisa, Cregan immediately halting, she had not even uttered a single sound out her mouth. 

You were awake.

“My lords,” Cregan only said as he rounded the table, ducking out the tent as he forced himself to navigate his way to the tent you were in. His heart pounding near his ears as a few steps more he’d be inside, pushing through the flaps, and there you did lay, eyes open, face harbouring an expression of fatigue. 

Cregan wasted no time gliding towards you, taking you in and slowly grabbing your right uninjured hand as he knelt in front of the cot, gaze scanning you all over. “Wife.” His voice faltered. 

“Husband.” You managed to croak out, moving to sit up which Cregan refused to let you but you won in the end, now he was knelt in front of you as you sat. His huge rough hands, rid of their gloves now, enveloped yours, thumb stroking circles upon the back of your hands. 

You lift your right hand, coming to cradle his face, stroking the slight flush on the apple of his cheeks as he let out a heavy breath, closing his eyes, brows knitting as he leaned into your touch, showing his utter devotion to you and you only, making you smile.

“I thought I had lost you.” He voiced, eyes still closed, making you frown. “Look at me, Cregan.” You spoke, slowly regaining your voice back as Cregan’s eyes flickered open, staring into you. 

“You will not lose me, not now, not ever.” You began. “I’d wager it would take more to kill me.” You smirked, finding a way to still lighten a situation upon the brink of what could have been. 

The end of Cregan’s lip tugged upwards in amusement, his features softening as he chuckled, nodding along and finally letting himself relax with the fact that you were okay, you were going to live. He turned his head where your palm cradled his face, pressing his lips upon your palm before looking at you. 

“Aye, you are right. It would take more for a woman like you.”