#tryin to think of ways I could get back into things

[maskyartist]

Thinkin a lot of autistic thoughts tonight boys…

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

tbqh I did seriously consider just walkin out on him

[readwritealldayallnight]

When Gaz walks into the bases common room, his goal for making his third cup of tea of the day is diverted when he catches sight of Soap’s expression across the room.

The Scot looks absolutely befuddled, eyes wide and sitting slack-jawed across from his Lieutenant. Gaz walks over to the men, catching the very end of Ghost telling his companion to ‘piss off’.

“Alright?” He asks the lads, raising a brow in question.

“Ye oughta hear the shite LT’s tryin’ to convince me of over here!” Soap is all too eager to inform his friend. Ghost grunts, leaning further back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and rolling his eyes as far back as he can, as if to tell the Sergeant in front of him ‘this is why I don’t tell you anything’.

Because that’s almost exactly what Ghost is thinking at that moment. He’d just entered the common room when he’d spotted the back of an all too familiar head, fiddling and distracted with the microwave.

When he’d walked up behind the younger man and echoed his call sign out in greeting, his mask hid the smug smirk that appeared at the jump Soap gave, uttering a loud “Shit!” in surprise.

Soap went on to complain about how he was apparently attempting to jumpstart his heart, drawling on about how the Lieutenant was always sneaking up on people like this, moving quiet as a Ghost.

“My missus says the same thing.” The masked man had mentioned casually, as if his chest hadn’t automatically puffed out in pride, standing up a little straighter at the mention of his girl.

“She says you’re too quiet? Aye, LT, think a lot o’ couples have complaints of the sorts in bed ya see-”

“Shut it, you prick.” Ghost quickly shut him down, ending that line of thought. “She says I walk too quietly in the flat. Accidentally scaring her all the time, poor thing.”

At that, Soap’s eyebrows had shot sky high, keen to hear more about the big bad Ghost’s life of apparent domestic bliss, turning him into an absolute sap.

Ghost wouldn’t normally volunteer information about his personal life. But he just loves you so much. And now that he’s not only thinking about you because he is all the time, but also talking about you, his mouth didn’t seem to want to stop talking about you.

“She put her foot down with me recently.” He’d added with a deep chuckle.

“She did what?” Soap had asked bewildered.

“She called it ‘putting her foot down’. I walked up behind her when she was doin’ dishes. Poor bird didn’t hear me and dropped somethin’.”

“Oh, no! Simon! That’s my favourite mug!!” You’d cried out, watching your most treasured ceramic shattering on the tile floor of the kitchen, spreading every which way across the room.

“M’sorry lovie. Didn’t mean to scare ya.” He’d sheepishly responded, reaching to turn off the running faucet. He’d grabbed the dish towel and gave it to you to dry your hands, lifted you by the waist and set you on the counter with ease, not wanting you to get hurt with your bare feet. He’d turned, already in search of a broom and dust pan.

“Again. You mean I’m sorry for scaring you again.” You had corrected him, narrowing your eyes. “I can’t take it anymore Simon. You don’t need to be stealthy at home, my love, you can make noise when you walk. In fact I need you to make noise when you walk at home!”

Simon had nodded along, diligently sweeping up every piece of your ruined mug.

“I’ll try harder sweetheart. I promise.” He’d offered, dumping the remnants into the bin before he’d walked up to you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist as yours slid around his shoulders.

The very next weekend he’d taken you to a local pottery painting class to make up for the lost mug, as well as you telling him off (because yeah, that was what Simon considered you putting your foot down with him, and he never wanted it to happen again if he could help it).

Ghost finds himself grinning further under his mask at the memory however, of how cute you looked as you tried to raise your voice at him, laying down the law in your shared home.

“And so what’d ya tell her?” Soap asked, curious to know how his Lieutenant had reacted, but more so if the man would even reply or rather would tell him to fuck off.

“I didn’t tell her anythin’.” Simon had uttered. “Did as my missus asked me to do, and that was the end of the story. Well, s’pose I did I tell her I’d look into mug making classes or whatever.”

“…”

“You what?!”

[maskedbyghost]

lets continue our talk about situationship!Simon, where this bitch grovels for monthssss

_______________________________________________

situationship!simon starts sending you text messages. before you could expect something like "you up?" or "come to my office.", but after you broke things off with him, simon started sending you heartfelt text messages, apologizing for his past behavior. “i’ve been thinking a lot about what happened between us,” he texted one night. “i realize now how much i hurt you, and i’m truly sorry, love. i understand if you need space, but i wanted you to know how much i regret everything.”

along with his messages, simon started sending you small but meaningful gifts. he remembered how you’d joked about his tea obsession once and that you’d mentioned you only liked chamomile. to your surprise, he found the best brand of chamomile tea and even packed it in a nice box before delivering it to your room.

he even started to open up more. during a late-night phone call, where you could clearly hear that he was drunk, simon said that he started seeing a therapist. “i’m workin on understandin my issues and changin for the better. i want to be better, not just for you love, but for myself. i hope you can see that i’m tryin to change.”

when you asked him to stop calling you love, he refused. “i can’t help it. you’re mine in a way no one else could be, and i don’t want to pretend otherwise.”

as simon keeps showing up with gifts and heartfelt messages, you can’t help but wonder if he’s being real or if he’s just trying to win you back before breaking your heart again.

you still go on dates with other people, and simon is tormented every time he sees you leaving the base in those pretty dresses—dresses he wishes were just for him. he follows you, quietly lurking in the corners of the restaurants or bars where you’re out with your dates. oddly enough, most of the guys you go out with either get transferred to another base or stop calling you after just one date, and you’re doing your best not to blame simon for it. but you know it's him. and he is not sorry at all.

almost every day, simon texts you, asking you out on dates and planning special things for the who of you. all you have to do is say yes, but each time, you refuse. it breaks his heart every time, but it also makes him more determined to try even harder. he knows he deserves this treatment from you.

back when you and simon used to train together on base, it was a special routine you both enjoyed. now, you’ve started asking other guys to help you with exercises, and it drives him wild with jealousy. watching their hands on you makes him see red. after your training sessions with them, simon invites these guys to spar with him. it quickly becomes clear that he’s using these sparring matches as a chance to take out his frustration and anger, landing a few extra hits just to make his point.

despite everything, you still won’t budge, and it’s only making simon more frustrated. the truth is, it’s becoming harder and harder for you to resist him. his persistence is wearing you down, and the more he pushes, the more you find yourself struggling to stay strong.

simon invites you to one of his therapy sessions, saying his therapist thinks it would be helpful for him and his progress. during the session, he opens up about his struggles and insecurities, laying everything bare. as he talks, you start to feel sympathy for him. it’s clear he’s determined to change and work on himself, and you see how genuine his efforts are.

one night, you were preparing tea in the kitchen when a girl you know from the base asked for simon’s number. she mentioned she was interested in him, which made you jealous. you snapped at her, making it clear that he would never be interested in a girl like her. simon overheard the whole thing and couldn’t help but smirk to himself. it was clear you still had feelings for him, and he took a bit of satisfaction in that.

later that night he sent one simple message to you: "that's my girl. i belong to you, and you only."

after that message, simon stepped up his game. he started sending you lots of sweet texts and little gifts, and even took care of some of your paperwork. it was hard to ignore how much he was trying, and you found it tougher to resist him as he kept showing you how much he cared.

a few months after managing to ignore simon as best as you could, you caught a nasty cold and were stuck in your room. you only texted price to let him know you needed a few days off because you were sick, and got back in your bed trying to sleep that cold off. a few hours later, as you were still trying to fall asleep, you heard your door open. simon walked in, carrying a bunch of bags, a worried look on his face.

“i came as soon as I could,” simon said, worry in his voice. “i brought you soup and medicine.”

simon didn’t leave your side for days. he only went back to his room to grab more clothes and shower. he was insistent on helping you with everything, even assisting you with your showers in the most respectful way possible of course. he’d sit in a chair next to your bed, and you felt a pang of guilt seeing how much he was giving up for you. you even tried to convince him to go get some rest, but despite your protests, he somehow ended up in your bed, gently spooning you as you slept.

simon would whisper sweet things in your hair, thinking you were asleep. you heard every word as he softly talked about how much he missed you, how sorry he was for everything, and how he wanted to make things right. even though you were sick and exhausted, his words touched you deeply.

once you were feeling better, you found simon sitting alone in a common room, lost in thought. you approached him quietly and gently kissed the side of his face. with a soft smile, you whispered, “take me on that date you promised.”

_______________________________________________

@daydreamerwoah

[fxllfaiiry]

─ you're the sunflower ੈ✩‧₊˚

✶ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader

✶ synopsis: everyone on the team loves you, expect miguel who seems to hate you more than anyone.

✶ warnings: angst!! major angst. sunshine!reader x grumpy!miguel. reader is nicknamed sunflower, mentions of death.

✶ notes: there's one spanish sentence in this, I'm not good with spanish so if I've made a mistake please tell me so i can fix it! part two is already up!!!

Everyone on the team loved you from the moment you joined, everyone, except Miguel. 

You knew Miguel was cold towards everyone, but he was extra cold with you. Maybe it was because of how different your personalities were. 

You were the embodiment of sunshine, always positive in any situation, putting others before yourself. Hence why everyone calls you sunflower, it fits perfectly, Miles was proud of coming up with it. 

Miguel on the other hand was cold and distant but that didn't stop you from trying to get him to open up. You'd try to have simple conversations with him but nothing, all you would receive in reply was an eye roll or a slight grunt, but you wouldn't give up that easily. 

Like today, you got him some coffee. 

"Morning, boss. Got you some coffee." You said in your usual cheerful tone. 

"Why?" He raised his eyebrows, looking down at you suspiciously. That's the most he's said to you all week. 

"Because I wanted to." You shrugged, placing it down on his desk. 

He steped down walking towards his desk, you couldn't help but stare at him, unfortunately for you, everything about him was so attractive, it's such a shame he hated you. 

"This isn't how I like my coffee." 

"Huh?" You snapped out of your daydream at the sound of his voice. 

"The coffee, it tastes terrible. Get it from another place next time." 

"Well, actually I made it-" But he had already walked away from you not listening to a word you said. "Alright, never mind, I'll just go back to work." You mumbled hurt by his words. 

"Wait, hold on." You looked up, thinking, maybe he'll say something nice after all. 

"Yeah?" 

"Take the coffee with you, I won't be drinking it." 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"Girl, why do you look so sad? Did Miguel do something again?" Jess asked with a frown, she did not like seeing you sad. 

"No."

"Sunflower…"

"Okay, yes." Miguel being cold towards you was normal, he never spoke to you unless necessary. Out of everyone here, he probably hated you the most, even more than Miles.  

"Sunflower, I've told you to stop trying." Jess sighed. 

"I know, I know… why does he hate me so much, Jess?" 

"That's just the way he is, don't overthink it. It's his loss, baby." She replied, gently patting your shoulder. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Today was going to be a good day, you were so sure of it. 

But, of course, you were wrong. 

Everything was going great up until a few hours ago. 

Miguel had assigned you on a mission to catch an anomaly, alongside a few other spider-people. His instructions were clear, stick to the plan and catch the anomaly. It was supposed to be simple. 

If only you didn't disobey him. You screwed up badly, and because of that, you could have been killed. 

"Why don't you ever listen?" Miguel shouted. No one had ever seen him this angry. 

"I was just tryin-" 

"¡Ay, por el amor de Dios!" Being yelled at by your boss in front of your coworkers was humiliating, everyone was looking at you with pity. 

"I'm sick of this, why can’t you follow simple instructions? Is it that hard to understand?" He barked, towering over you. 

"It's not a big deal." You tried to keep your composure, you didn't want to humiliate yourself further by bursting into tears. 

"Not a big deal? You could've died! A simple mistake would have ruined the whole mission." 

Don't cry. Don't cry. 

"But we're all fine, aren't we?" You weakly chuckled. That was the wrong thing to say because it only made him angrier. 

"Oh? If that's the attitude you have then you shouldn't even be on the team." Ouch. 

"Miguel, I think that's enough-" Hobie said, quickly jumping in. 

"Not now, Hobie." He growled. 

Never once did you think that you'd be in a situation like this. 

"If you put more focus on trying to be good at your job, rather than impressing me, we wouldn't even be here!" Oh, so he did notice that. 

At this point, tears were streaming freely down your face and you made no attempt to stop them. 

"Yep, you got it, boss." You smiled up at him through your tears. It was pathetic, but you did not care, you just wanted to leave and never come back. 

"Next time make sure this doesn't happen." 

"It won't happen next time." That's because there won't be a next time.

[saturnrings77]

note: im actually proud of this one. i really like it

you've been needy all day. whinging and whining when rafe's attention isn't 100% on you, disturbing his precious work time. you've been teasing him, leaving sloppy kisses on his lip or down the side of his neck and hands wondering too far south. his only response to your frisky touches were harsh "cut that shit out", "don't fucking embarrass me" and "fucking behave." your behaviour got even worse though, going from wandering hands to outright grabbing his cock and moaning in his ears in front of his clients.

"i been tryin’ real hard not to lose my fucking patience with you. okay?" he's mad but you look up at him coyly as if you never did anything. "get in the car. now." you don't dare disobey him, not when he's being so assertive and not after the way you were acting.

—

it's so dirty, the way he's fully clothed in a suit and you've been stripped bare, not a single article of clothing left on you. "this what y'been wantin', huh?" his teeth are gritted and his fingers are moving inside of you, fast. "so fucking needy f'me" the only thing leaving your lips are whimpers and moans. he slaps your cunt at the lack of an answer, watching the way you mewl and writhe.

He keeps his fingers pumping inside of you as he brings his mouth to your clit. "such a slut f'me, yeah?" and then his mouth is on you sucking and licking. he occasionally nips at the bud with his teeth, the action causing you to arch your back off the bed, stilling your hips with a firm grip.

"y'bout to cum, baby?" the condescending tone drips from his lips and you let a desperate "uh huh" slip from yours. he feels your walls pulsing around his fingers and just as your about to cum, he pulls away.

"rafe" you whine out, so high pitched he just chuckles and brings his digits covered in your arousal to his mouth. he hums in satisfaction while you let out a breathy moan.

he's upright on his knees, legs now between yours and spreads them wider. rafe unzips his slacks and lowers it and his boxers enough for his cock to slip out. he leans down his hand next to your head, nails scraping the nape of his neck as he grips the base of cock tapping the head on your clit. your hands wrap around his neck and you let out a soft moan next to his ear. rafe starts moving his hand up and down his shaft, the tip constantly hitting your clit.

"more" you let out a drawn out moan and rafe leans back, pulling his cock away from your cunt. he strokes himself faster and his pants and grunts get louder. he leans down again, swiping his tip through your slit, still pumping himself, looking down at where you're both touching.

you wrap your legs around his hips and start bucking your hips up to try and get him where you need him most and rafe's eyes flit to yours. his movements stop. "y'move, i stop." you know he's serious so you restrain your movements as best you can and he continues.

he's sliding against your folds fast and messy, whining when his tip gets snagged in your hole. "oh, fuck" he whines out loud. "feels s'fucking good." he lets out such a deep guttural, you think you could have come. your squirming so much, eager to come, but you don't want him to stop.

he decides to continue teasing the both of you, pushing the head of his cock in an inch and sliding back out again. he speeds up, doing the action a couples more times, your pussy getting wetter and squelching louder. "pussy's s'fuckin' wet." he alternates between pushing in and sliding against your folds.

his mouth his hanging open as he speeds up his movements, still panting and whimpering. he moves the tip of his cock back towards your clit and starts bucking his hips, his hand still stroking his shaft. you're both whimper together.

His moans begin getting louder and just as you're about to cum he pulls away and spills his seed over your pussy. He slows down his movements and you both watch his cum dribble down your folds to your crack and onto the sheets beneath you.

"I was about to come." you whisper, desperate for release. He reaches to the bedside table and grabs a tissue cleaning himself up, before tucking himself back in his pants and zipping up.

"s'what y'get f'bein' a brat." rafe chuckles as he watches your face fall, knowing you weren't allowed to get off without him. He walks out the door throwing the tissue out on the way to finish his business while it dawns on you that you weren't coming until he was done.

[agaypanic]

Hii I’d like to request Regina having a crush on reader but reader has a hard time liking her back cause of what was written about reader in the burn book (with a fluff ending??) thank you!

Who Wrote This? (Regina George X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: Even though all that had happened junior year was forgiven, what was written about you in that wretched burn book still tugged at you mind. It makes it hard for you to warm up to Regina, who just wants to be with you.

A/N: regina wrote mean ass shit in the burn book so a warning for that ig

***

“Regina, if you keep staring at her, she might think you’re crazy.” The lacrosse team giggled as they watched Regina watch you. She was packing her bag after practice when she caught sight of you coming out of the school library.

“Oh, shut up.” She said, not bothering to take her eyes off of you. 

This wasn’t the first time Regina’s friends had caught her looking at you. Ever since sophomore year, after being sat next to you in one of her classes, it was like she couldn’t get you out of her head. No matter how many boyfriends, or more like boy toys, she had, or how many people she slept with. When it was all over, she still thought about you, who was nothing but kind and sweet to her despite her reputation of being an evil Plastic.

“When are you gonna go talk to her?” Dina, one of Regina’s teammates, nudged her arm. “You’re clearly, like, in love with her.”

“I can’t.” She answered, now somber. “I’m pretty sure she completely hates me.”

That wasn’t entirely true, but Regina didn’t know that. From how you acted now, like she repulsed you, it seemed like you despised her. And she knew it was all her fault.

Everyone except for you had gotten over what was written about them in the burn book. The moment you read what had been written about you, what people seemed to think of you, you realized that Regina George was a two-faced mega bitch and would never change. It didn’t matter how nice you were, or how many notes or pens you had let her borrow, or how genuine she seemed around you. She would always think she was above everyone, and the people below were as meaningless and bothersome as gum stuck to the bottom of her shoe.

You knew she was different now, like she had really grown. But you didn’t buy it for a second. So you kept your distance, speeding off or changing seats whenever Regina tried getting close to you. Yet there was a small part of you that was hopeful about the fact that she was better now, that she wasn’t so mean.

After zipping up your bag, you looked up and locked eyes with Regina on the soccer field. Even though she was far away, she could see you clench your jaw before storming off to your car.

She couldn’t do this anymore. No matter how much you tried to avoid her, she needed to talk to you.

***

You loved spending your free period in the library. You were able to catch up on homework or studying without getting distracted. Plus, Regina never came in here.

You heard the door open but didn’t look up from your notebook, where you copied notes from your textbook. Footsteps came near you, but you figured they were going to a seat past you.

But then someone sat down in the chair next to you. You looked up in the confusion, but that soon turned into an expression of annoyance.

“Please,” Regina whispered, grabbing your wrist before you could try to back your things and leave. You glared at her, and she had to force herself not to wince at your harshness. “Please, Y/n, I just wanna talk.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Just hear me out.” Regina pleaded, trying to stay quiet. She scooted her chair closer to you, and was surprised that you didn’t lean back or scoot away. “Hear me out, and then when I’m done, I’ll leave you alone forever. I promise.” 

It pained her to promise you that, but she figured it was the only way you’d listen to her.

You stared at her momentarily before you sighed and relaxed slightly in your seat.

“Fine.” You said. “But make it quick.”

Regina nodded, trying to get her thoughts together. To be honest, she didn’t really think she’d make it this far.

“I’m sorry.” She started. “Really, really sorry. What I wrote about you in that book, I didn’t mean it, and I regret writing it every day. You were one of the only people in this school that I genuinely liked, and I ruined what little we had because I wrote something stupid.”

“It wasn’t stupid.” You interjected, bitterness in your tone. “It was mean, Regina.” You turned your seat to face her better. She was glad that you were finally looking at her without running away, but hated the look of disdain and hurt on your face. “I think about what you wrote about me every day. It’s practically burned into my brain at this point. ‘Y/n L/n is a skank that no one would touch with a ten-foot pole. That-’”

“‘That nerdy bitch will end up alone.’” Regina finished the quote, her voice meek and cheeks red from embarrassment. “I remember.”

“I’m glad you have such a good memory.” You said sarcastically. “If you wrote that about someone you say you genuinely liked, I wonder what you’d write about your own mother.”

“Y/n…” Regina sighed. This was definitely not going the way she had wanted. But at the same time, she expected this to be a sour interaction. “I didn’t mean what I wrote.”

“Oh really? What, was it just a spur-of-the-moment decision to cut out my school picture and write that?”

“I had to write it, Y/n.” The absurdity of that statement shocked you into silence, so Regina took it as a chance to continue before you told her you didn’t want to hear it. “I put myself in there to frame Cady, Gretchen, and Karen for making the book. But then I remembered that you weren’t in there. I never wanted you in that book, but I didn’t want you to be blamed for it if Mr. Duvall realized you weren’t in it.”

“So…” You were trying to wrap your head around Regina’s words. “You wrote all that stuff… to protect me?”

“I hated every minute of it.” Regina seemed so serious; she looked so desperate for you to believe her. “It was so hard to write that, because I didn’t believe any of it. The truth is… I’ve actually liked you for a long time, Y/n.” You looked at her bewildered, and she took your silence as a cue to continue. “That’s why I had never put you in the book. I remember always pretending to forget or lose my pencils so I could talk to you because you’d always let me borrow yours. Or I’d leave one of my books at home, hoping that you’d share yours with me.” Regina took a deep breath, reminiscing on the little moments she had with you before she ruined it all. “It’s so corny, but I never felt as on top of the world as I did when you were talking to me.”

You stared at Regina, completely shocked. This was not at all what you were expecting when she begged you to listen to her. At the most, you thought it’d be a little apology, and then she’d leave. Instead, you had gotten a full-on love confession from Regina George, who, for the first time probably ever, looked scared as she waited for your response.

“I’ll leave you alone now.” She said after another minute of awkward silence. “I promise I won’t try to bother you anymore. And again, I’m really sorry.”

Regina stood up, but your hand shot out and grabbed her arm to stop her. She looked down at you to find that you were already staring at her.

“I…” You started, still trying to process the situation. “I guess I can forgive you. And I suppose I could give you another chance. You know, like a do-over.”

“Really?” Regina smiled hopefully, lowering back down into her chair. You realized your hand was still clasped around her arm, so you let go and cleared your throat.

“Yeah. I mean, after all, you gotta make it up to me. Emotional damages and all.” 

You returned to the notes and textbook you had neglected, found where you had left off, and started writing again. Regina took this as her cue to leave, and she wondered what would happen after this. But before she could stand up again, your free hand drifted to hers on the table, pinky laying over hers. She smiled and curled her small finger around yours.

You stayed there until the end of your free period. And when the two of you went to your next class, which you shared, Regina was both relieved and ecstatic when you sat in the seat next to her without a second thought.

[loveshotzz]

18+

summary: The rainy night Steve asks you to move in with him.

wc: 1k

warnings: fem!reader, older!steve, age gap (steve is 43, reader is 30), p in v sex, cream pie, slightly subby begging steve, slight breeding kink, mentions of drinking at dinner.

This blurb belongs to my series All I Really Want Is You but can be read as a stand alone. Just missed my favorite old man 🥺

Steve’s forehead is pressed to yours, sweat dripping off that one strand that just won’t stay back with a love drunk stare that threatens to swallow you whole. You almost get lost in the gold that still shimmers in the darkness of his blown out eyes, freshly done nails digging half crescent moons into the constellations on his shoulder blades. Your knees sit on either side of his hips, sticky skin clinging to the brown leather of his couch making every bounce on his lap threaten to rub them raw, but you could care less. Not when he’s looking at you like this.

The rain hits the sliding glass door of his backyard, beige curtains drawn hiding you both from the two day rain storm that’s kept you away from your apartment and mostly in his bed. One of his arms loops around your waist, holding you close from the small of your back.

Chest to chest, his coarse hairs tickle the soft skin of your breasts, long fingers digging into the plush curve of your hip. A palm as warm as the electric fireplace behind you cups the back of your neck, the pad of his thumb rubbing circles against the sensitive spot behind your ear he likes to kiss every morning.

Spearmint and whiskey from the drinks you had at dinner fill the space between you with every breath that fans against your lips. Sweet nothings said with drunken abandon, noses bumping with every thrust, the length of him stretching you in a way that has your eyes roll in the back of your head every time he meets the roll of your hips.

“If you think I’m letting you resign that lease this summer,” he breathes, somehow pulling you even closer, making him go deeper, whispering a sweet ‘I know’ when you whine before finishing his thought, “you’re crazy honey.”

Thunder rumbles in the distance outside, your walls fluttering around him in a way that makes him twitch inside of you, eyebrows marrying together when your fingers find their way into the silver and chestnut hair that curls at the nape of his neck.

“Tryin’ to keep me all to yourself huh?” You tease, the liquid courage helping you stay calm at the realization of what he was implying. A conversation you’ve both tiptoed around when five nights a week sleepovers between places became a regular thing.

His top lip catches on your bottom, the corners of his mouth twitching in a smirk before he steals a kiss that has you chasing his tongue with yours letting him take control. The grip on your waist tightens, stopping your movements while the roll of his hips becomes pointed in your undoing.

”God, yes baby, please.” He moans, perfect teeth nipping at your bottom lip when you tug on his roots, the tip of him teasing the spot that has you gasping his name, “I want you every day, please.”

The thumb behind your ear applies just enough pressure for you to turn your head to the side, letting him kiss a sloppy trail up your jaw, whispering ‘please’ after each one. Loosening his hold enough for you to grind your hips, you meet his thrusts in a way that has the hair on his pelvic bone catch your clit with the perfect pressure over and over again.

”Oh my god, Steve.” You gasp, pulling at his hair hard enough for his lips to meet yours again. Something a little smug behind them.

“Yeah?” His hot breath makes you shudder as you find just the right rhythm.

“Feels s’good, you always make me fuck -“ the buildup you’ve already had three times today returns like its the first time all over again, lashes tickling the tops of your cheeks.

“I know honey, I can feel it, you can give it to me, you know I want it.” He hums against your lips, the tip of his tongue teasing yours.

The hand on your hip snakes between your thighs, the pad of his thumb finding your clit, rubbing the kind of messy circles that has your legs start to shake.

”Wanna make you cum every day, please.” Grunting when the roll of your hips makes his toes curl against the hardwood floor, he knows he’s not going to last much longer.

“Tell me you’re gonna let me baby.” Steve practically whines and all you can do is nod because even every day doesn’t seem like enough.

What’s longer than forever?

“Cum inside me,” you whine, “I want it, god, I need it.”

The groan that rumbles from his chest at your request is enough to rival the thunder that gets close enough to shake the house, and the band that wound up tight enough to snap finally does just that, your cunt giving him no choice but to listen to you as you fall apart on his lap.

“Anything - anything you want.” He pants against your open mouth, twitching against your fluttering walls before spilling everything that’s left of him inside of you. The blunt ends of his nails dig into your hip keeping you close so you have to take every last bit, one day hoping you’ll want it to stick.

[starkeysprincess]

stepbro!rafe waking you up to give him head

warnings: taboo content, 18+ mdni ➔︎ stepbro!rafe, stepcest, mean rafe, oral (m receiving), breath play, blackmail (rafe threatening to rat reader out)

Rafe groaned, his cock begging for release and his hand stilling its movement as it wasn’t enough to get him off. All he could think about was you, his sweet stepsister, and the way your plush lips felt around him the day he caught you trying to sneak out. It’s been on his mind all day and it was the cause behind why he couldn’t cum. He knew he wouldn’t be able to cum unless he felt your mouth on him again.

He found himself walking over to your room, which was conveniently across from his. He quietly shut the door, his feet treading softly against the wood floor until he was hovering over your sleeping form. His hand caressed the side of your face and he couldn’t help but think how peaceful you looked while you slept. 

He patted your cheek, “Wake up” he whispered, earning a small whine from you as you turned away from him. His large hands grabbed at your hips, turning you over onto your back once again as he climbed on top of you, straddling your waist. 

“I said wake up”, this time he patted your cheek harder, making your eyes flutter open, “Rafe, I was sleeping” you complained. “Quit your whining, do I look like I give a shit if you were sleeping?” he snorted. You didn’t know why he woke you up at this time of the night until your eyes trailed down his body and you noticed his hard-on pressing against his sweatpants.

“Need that sweet little mouth wrapped around my cock” he muttered, his hand already moving to tug his sweatpants down, pulling his length out. He scoots his body closer, straddling your chest and you can’t help but shake your head ‘no’ in protest. 

He threads one hand through your hair, pulling your head forward, “Don’t think I forgot about you tryin’ to sneak out to see some boy a few weeks ago. I won’t hesitate to rat you out, remember, sis, you said you’d do anything”. You knew he was right, you did tell him that you would do anything to ensure he wouldn’t tell your stepdad and your mom. You thought it would be a one-time thing but you clearly should’ve known better.  

“So here’s what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna open your fuckin’ mouth and suck me off, yeah?” he pulls at your hair and you nod, showing him you understood. “Atta girl” he chuckles, pushing his shirt up, taking the hem into his mouth, “Open up f’me”. You open your mouth and he tugs your head toward him, slapping his dick at your tongue before pushing into your mouth. “Shit…fuckin’ missed this mouth” he groaned, your warm, wet mouth enveloping his base. 

You bobbed your head up and down, his hand gripping the back of your head, pushing your head down. His ears ring at your small gags and you try to pull away, making him move his other hand to pinch your nose shut. “Look at me” his voice is rough and you look up at him, tears kissing your waterline as you struggle to breathe. He snaps his hips forward, his balls hitting at your chin, grunting as your drool coats his cock, running out the sides of your mouth and down your chin. 

Your lungs burn, starting to feel lightheaded from the lack of oxygen as he’s brutally thrusting into your mouth. Rafe grins when your tears stream down your face, “Aw, poor thing can’t handle choking on her stepbrother’s cock?” he taunts. Your hands are clawing at his arm, your vision blurring until he removes his fingers from your nose, “You’re fine, breathe through your nose”. 

“Look so pretty chokin’ on my dick. Gonna fuckin’ cum down that pretty little throat and mark it as mine” he moans, his cock twitching and balls tightening as the release he’s been needing approaches. His hips stutter, your nose pressing at his pelvis as he holds your head, thick ropes of his cum filling your mouth.

tagging: @oceandriveab @drewsonlyaurelia @babygorewhore @xxbimbobunnyxx @bimbotrashcan @annoyingassleo @rafesthroatbaby @redhead1180 @drudyslut @sturnioloshacker @heartsforvin @slumnit @hallecarey1 @eddieslut69 @kisses4angel @hyperfixationgirl @emilysuperswag @flvredcas @starkeyisthelastname @rafeinterlude @rafecameroninterlude @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @fae-of-prey @amandabbbbb @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @spid6y @chimindity @starkeysbebe @starkeysheart @spacexdrago @honeybunniesoobin @juniebugg @wearemadeofstardust0 @blckbrrybasket @bunnyrafe @nemesyaaa @shawtycoreee

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Begging for anything with aizawa pls and thanks <3 maybeee with him using his scarf involved haha

Caught!

Tags: Aizawa x fem!Reader, enemies to… lovers?, smut, nsfw, bondage, use of pet names like princess, mdni

Synopsis: You’re in the league of villains, and Aizawa manages to catch you! You’re in for it now.

An: Thank you for the request! Sorry it took me so long. NO proofreading 😔

"Did you really think you could outrun me?" Shouta's gravely voice sounded through the alleyway. Your body was currently trapped. He had you completely wrapped up with that damn scarf of his. No matter which way you thrashed, you couldn't get out.

"I was just hoping to outlast you!" You shout back, feigning confidence. In reality, your heart was pounding anxiously in your chest. You kept replaying the memory of you getting caught over and over in your head.

Shigaraki and the others just... left you completely behind. You were nothing more than a lamb to the slaughter. The slaughter just happened to be Shouta Aizawa, a notable underground pro who also teaches at U.A.. Just your luck.

His footsteps sounded through the alleyway. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. The small amount of light from the streetlamp allowed for you to admire his face from the ground. His longer dark hair was tied back into a short poofy ponytail, and his glasses must've gotten knocked off at some point during the pursuit.

His tired eyes wandered over your body as you laid helplessly at his feet. His irises were glowing red, effectively wiping you of your quirk. You looked too damn soft to be a villain, but he wasn't going to underestimate someone after seeing Toga.

"You got a name, princess?" He asked before nudging your side with his boot, making you squirm away from him.

"Why would I tell you that?" You immediately spat with a defiant pout.

"You got entirely too much mouth on ya." He retorts with a small smirk. Suddenly, your body is rapidly rolling around as the scarf unravels from your midsection. He's quick to grab each ends, and he yanks the rope taut, binding your wrists together above your head. "I'm tryin' to do you a favor, so don't push your luck."

Your body feels more free, even if you're basically just as trapped as before. Though, you're finally able to breathe freely now without the scarf restraining you tightly.

"Oh, and how should I say thank you?" You ask sarcastically, expecting for him to just get irritated with you again.

Aizawa takes a few more steps forward, and he crouches down to your level on the ground. Tilting his head to the side slightly, "I can think of a few ways, but I bet you wouldn't like those."

He's a flirt???

Your eyes immediately widen in response, and you can feel the heat rushing your cheeks. It's a pretty well known fact that Aizawa is a bit of a heartthrob, but he's too unapproachable to even consider. Shigaraki would kill you if he knew that you were considering sleeping with the enemy, but he basically left you to die. So, it shouldn't be too much of a problem.

"Why are you so sure that I wouldn't?" You ask as you try to lean up against your restraints. He pulls them tighter, knocking you back against the concrete.

"A young pretty thing like you? You're just hoping to find an opening and get away." He muses as his eyes look your body up and down, shamelessly checking you out while you can't do a damn thing about it.

A small huff escapes your lips, causing him to chuckle endearingly. He finds your continued defiance to be rather amusing and cute.

"Then... don't give me an opening." You respond, giving him your most innocent smile that you could muster.

"Oh princess, are you asking me to keep you tied down..?"

You let out a shaky breath, and you reluctantly nod your head. Your thighs squish together tightly, trying to ease the warm ache that started to form between your legs.

"Ask nicely, and I'll consider it." He demands, keeping that cocky smirk on his face. The TV debuts never show this side of him. He's always portrayed as some strict stick in the mud, but right now, he was something completely different.

"Asshole-" You scoff before the scarf is yanked tightly, forcing your arms up higher. A pained whine sounds from your mouth, and you squeeze your eyes shut as he toys with you like prey.

"Now princess, I know you're a villain, but come on now... That's not very nice." He's being completely condescending, but for whatever reason, it makes your entrance clench around air, begging to be filled up by him.

"Please... keep me.. tied up-" You quietly ask, avoiding eye contact with him out of sheer embarrassment.

"You just want me to keep you tied up..? Nothing else-?" He prompts, and one of his fingers trails up your arm slowly, up towards the scarf wrapped tightly around your wrists.

"No- I.... ugh!" You exasperate in a bratty scoff. "I want you to keep me tied while.. you..." His finger slips beneath the binding, making sure he's not cutting off your circulation before he trails his finger back down your other arm.

"While I... what, princess? Spit it out. I'm on the clock, you know."

"... while you fuck me." You finally add, tilting your head away from his impregnable stare.

"Goood~" He purrs before tilting your chin back towards him. "Now, say it all together."

"That's not-" He gives you a challenging gaze, telling you that he's finished arguing. "I want you to keep me tied up while you fuck me..." His stare continues, waiting for you to tack on the 'nice' portion. "...Please."

"Was that so hard?" He asks as his hand dips between your thighs. His hand palmed at your wet cunt through the thin fabric of your pants.

"Mmn... no.." Your murmur softly. Your back arches up off the concrete, and your part your thighs slightly for him.

"Just like a damn cat. So mean and defensive until someone pets ya the right way." He muses before his fingers find the waistband of your pants. With a firm tug, you're left without pants or panties.

"Wait.. ngh... not in the alley-" Your whines fall on deaf ears as Shouta already has his head between your thighs, helping himself to your arousal.

His scruffy facial hair tickles your soft skin as he's gently kissing and biting on your thighs. Your body involuntarily squirms with each time he clamps his teeth over your flesh. "F-fuck.. ah.." It feels like heaven when his tongue finally reaches your core.

"Mmnn~ well, at least one part of ya is sweet." He muses with a grin before flattening his tongue out and lapping at your dripping cunt. His hands are tightly forcing your thighs apart, not allowing you to shy away from him at all. You could feel the imprints of his fingers being bruised into your legs. A mark of him to carry along with you.

Your hands tug against the restraints with a quiet whine as he plunges his tongue in and out of your tight entrance. It feels like he's a starved man, and you're his only source of substance to keep him alive. "F-fuuck~ Shouta.." You breathlessly whisper while your hips are subtly moving along with his tongue.

His hands slide up, and he gropes on the flesh of your ass, pulling you down harder onto his tongue. It forces him deeper into your arousal. You're practically dripping all over his nose and chin, and he lets out a grunt of approval.

"Thaaat's it, princess. Didn't think you'd be moaning a hero's name, now did ya?" He taunts as he sits up. His hands slide his belt off with ease, tossing it over to the side.

"Debatable.." You murmur lowly as your eyes fixate on his pants sliding down. He has a darkly colored happy trail that goes down to where his pubic hair. His cock is then unsheathed from his boxers.

"I see you still have that mouth on you. Guess I'm going to have to fuck it out of you." He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly before he positions himself right between your thighs.

Your eyes are still glued on his length. He was big, but he was mostly girthy. His tip is swollen and red, with a line of pre-cum dripping down all from eating you out. His hand wraps around his fat length, and he fists at his length a few good times before guiding it towards your entrance.

"Wandering eyes..." He muses lowly, catching your attention. Your eyes meet his, and he gives you a small smile. "What were you looking at?"

"Uh... you.." You softly respond, feeling embarrassed that he caught you literally drooling over his cock.

"Yeah? What for?"

"I didn't know how it was gonna fit-" You start to say, but you were rudely cut off by him forcing his round tip past the ring of muscle. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you pulled harshly against the scarf.

He almost feels bad when he sees your cute face scrunched up in obvious discomfort. "You can handle it." He states bluntly before he eases his hips out, stretching the ring of muscle to fit around him. He then pushes right back in. Your wet heat coats him in a way that causes him to growl.

"Mmm.. if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're... hah.. enjoying this." He points out as his face hovers yours. His hands are planted against the ground at either side of you, holding him up above you. Your legs instinctively hike around his waist.

"Ngh..." You can't even find it in you to deny him right now. The stretch feels painful in the best way possible. You need him right now. "F-feels good~"

"Oh..? Want me to keep going then?" He asks, once again making you embarrassingly admit to wanting his cock.

"Yes... p-please Shouta.." You whine, wrapping your legs around him as if that'd stop him from leaving.

"Good girl. I'll reward you now." He praises before starting to move his hips. Your gummy walls squeeze around him, almost sucking him in with each thrust.

"Mmngh~ yes-!... right there, fuck." Your a noisy thing when you're getting dicked down, aren't you?

"Princess, don't make me gag you with my scarf." He mumbles in your ear lowly before letting out a low grown in tandem with his thrust. "G-gotta be quiet. Don't want the... mmph!... media coming out here, do you?"

You quickly shake your head no, and he gives you a small chuckle. He doesn't drill into you, instead he's slow and purposeful. He makes each thrust count as he slams into your sweet spot at a perfect tempo.

He presses small kisses along your cheek and jaw. "Bein' such a good girl for me.." He praises lowly as one of his hands snake down and starts to rub small circles on your clit.

"Hah~" You gasp as you tilt your head back. You can feel the white hot pleasure start to coil in your stomach, and your heart starts to pound in your chest. "G-gonna... gonna come.." You warn quietly as your eyes squint shut.

"Yeeaahh, that's it.... come on my cock , 's okay." He gives you permission, and immediately, he can feel you spasming around him. "Fuuck, good girl. Did so good..." He praises, and he keeps up his punishing rhythm.

"Sh-... Shouta~" You whine as you look back up at him. Your poor cute face is all fucked out. He knows your arms have to be sore from being kept above your head this entire time.

"What is it, princess?" He asks you knowingly. He already knows what you're wanting of him, but he's a fan of making you say it.

"P-please.. come inside me.."

"I've given you s'much already, and you want more? He taunts as his cock continues to fill you completely. His tip kissing your womb sloppily as he's just leaking pre-cum into you. Sopping wet noises fill the alley every time he moves. So much for being discreet.

"M-more!" You mindlessly whine in agreement. How could he deny you when you're so cute and stupid? His jaw tightens, and he begins to absolutely bully his way inside you, chasing after his own orgasm simply because you asked him so nicely.

His knees scraped against the pavement beneath your two, and his grunts were becoming more growl like and shaky. "You want more? C'mere." He demands lowly before unbinding your hands. He scoops you into his arms, and pulls you up and down along his length, practically using you as his own little toy.

Your arms immediately wrap around his neck, and you hold on for dear life as he literally knocks the breath out of you with each brutal thrust. Your mind is practically spinning, and before you know it, you're gushing around him once again.

"You just can't help yourself, can you?" He taunts before he bites down onto your shoulder. His heavy balls are slapping against the flesh of your ass with each delicious plap noise. "Fuck. Gonna fill my good girl up." He groans lowly as his arms begin to shake.

His cock flexes with each pump of cum he spurts into you. For a moment, everything is quiet. The sound of both of you trying to catch your breaths fill the air before he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek.

"You don't gotta tell me your name... Do you have somewhere safe to go tonight... away from those assholes?" He asks you quietly before he gently lays you back against the concrete. His cock slides out of you, unleashing a pool of mixed fluids down your ass.

"I... not really..." You answer hesitantly. You didn't exactly have a place to call home except for the league of villains' base. It's not like you expected them to practically sacrifice you.

"You'll sleep at mine tonight." He leaves no room for argument as he gets himself back dressed. He even starts to put your pants back onto your legs for you. "If you try anything, I'll tie you up and do this to you all over again."

You let out a small amused laugh. "Don't threaten me with a good time, eraser."

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

I don't think his (or mine) understanding of "playin nice" is rly up to standard though

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Sail Away

Summary: Another nightmare leaves Javi wide awake, forced to wrestle with the consequences of his past as he looks towards his future

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: Heavyyyyy on the angst, PTSD, references to violence/death (from Narcos), panic attack and descriptions of past panic attacks, insomnia, feelings of guilt/shame, mentions of pregnancy/parenthood, comfort, still a happy (enough) ending, post DEA Javi, poor Javi just really needs a hug :(

A/N: We're tryin new things here people!! Fair warning- I feel like this is DRASTICALLY different from the way I normally write (content and style wise) but big sad time, pre-period hormones said it's time to cry 🤷🏼‍♀️ I think a lot about how post-DEA Javi handles thinking about his time in Colombia, and how hard it is for him to talk about, even with the people he knows care about him the most ☹️ I hope this doesn't beat you to death with metaphors, imagery and lack of beta'ing (I can still hear my AP lit teacher screaming SYMBOLISM into the abyss) Trying to emulate a lil @jolapeno on this one (ily my descriptive queen 👑)

It happened again. 

You instantly knew from the stark cold of his side of the bed, the empty void where his broad frame should be, his sheets twisted and tangled from where he had fought another round with sleep and lost. 

3rd night in a row, the 5th time this week. At this point, it was hard not to keep track. 

The cyclical pattern of restless nights, haunted by ghosts of his past that taunted and teased him, cruelly lurking the back of his mind, no matter how hard he begged or pleaded for them to disappear. 

Forcing himself to wrestle with his demons in the darkness couldn’t help but feel like insult to injury- the harsh blacks and blues that flooded the sky, drowning out the last glimmer of sunlight as it dipped below the horizon, perfectly mirroring the way his mind so devilishly seemed to paint his thoughts in shades of ebony and cerulean with erratic, angry brushstrokes over the warm yellows and oranges of his new life he had finally learned to embrace. 

It only seemed fair that he went to battle with the darkest musings of his mind under the night sky that so cruelly reflected his mood. 

You weren’t surprised the first time you found him hunched on the back steps of your porch, head buried in his hands, fingers twitching for a cigarette- the vice he’d sworn to give up after his final return home, a vow that moments like these had made him distinctly regret. You always wondered how despite the stark silence that surrounded him as he stared off into the dark abyss, you could still hear his thoughts screaming at you- crying out for attention, acknowledgement, anything to get someone else to understand what he was hiding inside of his mind that he was too scared to say out loud. 

His midnight disappearances came in waves, fading and reappearing like an unpredictable ocean tide that left you wondering when the cool and salty water would crash around your ankles next as you stood at the edge of the shore. 

For a while, the seas had been calm, Javi’s body nestled next to yours, his warmth comforting and covering you along with the messy piles of blankets and bedsheets that filled your mattress, the nights being nothing more than drifting to sleep in each other’s arms, haunted dreams harbored at bay. 

For the last 5 nights, the tides had shifted. A storm was raging. 

The first few nights you let him go- you’d watched him weather this kind of storm before, always insisting it was a journey he was supposed to go on alone, the type of trip you need to make without risking hurting the innocent passengers that were supposed to ride with you. 

But as the days came and went, golden rays of vibrant sun shifting to dark and lonely blackness, it felt like you were leaving him out in the abyss without even so much as a life vest, praying for a return you knew would never come unless someone weathered the storm to save him. 

“You’re up again.” 

It’s a neutral statement, enough to disarm him from the implications you’ve sent yourself on a rescue mission to find him while you settle next to his stoic frame sinking into the porch step. 

“And you shouldn’t be.” 

Not quite resistance, but certainly not acceptance to you let you come aboard with him. Not yet. 

“I was already up anyway. Someone has been a big fan of punching me in my gut at 2 A.M. Hard not to notice when I wake up and your side of the bed is empty for the 5th time this week.” 

Both your eyes shift down to the subtle swell of your stomach, barley poking out from under the worn t-shirt you’d stolen from his dresser drawer. You’d never really had a knack for thievery until the past few weeks, claiming that everything was too tight for your growing belly. Despite all his years intertwined with the law, Javi had never had a problem with pardoning you for your violation, happy to let you, his household thief, and your new partner in crime indulge in the habit if it brought you any sort of comfort in your constant uncomfortability of growing a new life inside you. 

“Already picking up on her dad’s shit sleeping habit.” He scoffs under his breath, a bitterness in his tone that he thinks he’s somehow managing to inflict years worth of poor choices on his future child, still months away from even making her arrival into the world. 

It hurts, watching the pain well in his eyes as he stares off at the stars, glistening in the distance like some sort of unreachable sanctuary, the savior of a temporary distraction. Right now, you wish he’d look at you the same way, but he knows you won’t let him wallow in the all consuming waves of his own self pity like the stars will. 

A silent journey to outer space is the easy way out. You aren’t. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You ask it like it’s a question, like he has a choice in the matter. He knows that you’ll be gentle with him- you have been since the moment you met him- but Christ, he also knows you’re nothing, if not persistent, too. 

He sighs, accepting his defeat as his gaze drops from the sky down to the ground, cautiously allowing you to climb aboard with him. 

It’s like trying to approach a wounded wild animal- move too fast and you’ll scare him away, leaving him to writhe in even more pain as he tries to flee from you. Move too slow and you leave him to bleed out, alone and afraid. 

“I’m fine.” It’s almost humorous how blatant of a lie it is, immediately putting himself on the defensive, like he has any ground to stand on with his claim. 

You say nothing, your silence enough to intrigue him as his eyes finally meet yours, the look on his face revealing the truth his words wouldn’t. You try your best to remain neutral, but Javi knows the sadness slowly slipping through your expression, the one you’re trying your best to hide because you’re not the one that’s hurting. Yet, there’s something about seeing you hurt because of him that’s enough to chip away at the wall he’s put up between you two, finally allowing you a crack just wide enough to let you see through to the other side. 

“I- I keep having the same dream. Every night, it’s the same.” He says “dream” like he’s letting himself drift off to sleep to all the pleasantries the world has to offer him, waking up to his midnight thoughts refreshed and renewed. Because his dreams aren’t just dreams, his dreams are the most terrifying nightmares the majority people wouldn’t even be capable of imagining, a violent parade of the worst memories his brain can muster.  

“What dream?” You ask, as carefully and cautiously as the way you shift yourself closer to him. 

“I- It’s- I just- Fuck-” 

It’s then you choose to gamble, wagering that he’s let you in enough, your next move won’t startle him, inching yourself closer as your right hand begins to intertwine with his left. He’s resistant at first, but as the familiar warmth of your body grazes across his skin, he begins to let you in, allowing your fingers to gently tangle, anchoring himself in your grasp. 

“It’s okay, Javi. I’m here. You can tell me.” 

It’s then the bets become less of a reckless gamble, squeezing him just a little tighter, stroking his skin with your thumb and feeling him squeeze back, taking your hand and finally letting you start to lift him out of the eye of the storm. 

He still needs the reassurance you won’t leave, that the man his nightmares make him won’t scare you away like they have so many others. An insecurity that distresses him enough to make him ache, despite your compassion. 

You’re not gonna scare me away, Javi.

The words still ring in the back of his head when he finds himself like this, remembering the first time you found him on the living room floor of your apartment at 3 A.M., skin tacky and covered in sweat, heart beating so fast he was convinced he was dying, terrified of his mind, and even more terrified you would leave him, letting you find him exposed, like some sort of disgusting, open wound. 

He’ll never understand why you showed him so much mercy. In no lifetime will he ever be able to thank you enough that you did. 

It still doesn’t make what comes next any easier. 

“I just stood there. I just let him- I just let him do it. He was just a fucking kid.” 

You can practically hear both your hearts break over the stark silence. Javi’s, because of all the things he’s done, this is the one he’ll never forgive himself for. Yours, for the same reason. 

“Javi…” 

“I didn’t even try to stop him. He was just a kid. We just- we just fucking left him there. What kind of person does that? I- I spent so long trying to convince myself, trying to- fuck- trying to justify it was okay. That casualties happen when you’re trying to catch a fuckin’ monster. But what if- what if none of it fucking mattered because I was the one who was really the monster.” 

It was flowing out of him now, a flash flood crashing through the rest of the brick wall he had built up to defend himself. You can feel him trying to pull his hand away, trying to keep you from getting swept away in the current with him, but it only makes you double down harder. 

“You’re not a monster, Javi. What happened back then, it- it did matter. I know it hurts, but it doesn't make you a monster.” 

It’s not his admittance of guilt that breaks him- it’s your forgiveness. 

He wonders how can stand him, let alone love him. How his past hasn’t left him tainted and useless, like some sort of lame animal with a limp that can’t be cured, its only options left to die or be sent out to pasture, too weak to venture back for help. That you were the only one who wanted to help fix the parts of himself that were the most broken and mangled. That you were the only one who gave him a chance to be healed instead of leaving him for dead. 

When his eyes meet your stomach is when the guilt begins to morph into terror. Because years ago, a mother, just like you, was nestled away in the haphazard rows of colorful buildings that lined the streets of Medellín, carrying her unborn son, dreaming about the life she would plan for him. 

Javi knows that nowhere in those plans did she account for the pain and heartbreak she would suffer as some asshole DEA agent watched her son’s body become one with the earth while he took a bullet to the brain.  

How was he supposed to live with himself when he got a chance to play God- that now, after letting a life disappear, he was allowed to have a hand in creating a new one? 

You watch the gears in his brain churn, yearning for an explanation to the unexplainable puzzle he’ll never be able to solve, even though he’s convinced he can. His brain works in logic and reasoning, only making the emotional torment of his past decisions more confusing for him. The same kind of logic that you’re not sure will ever allow him to forgive himself. 

“How am I supposed to be a dad? How are you ever gonna trust me? How am I supposed to keep her safe when I’ve done so many terrible fucking things?” Tears begin to flow down his cheeks, each word more ragged and shaky than the last until he can’t fight it any more. 

It feels like the entire weight of the world collapsing into your lap as he melts into you, so heavy that there’s nothing that you can do but wrap your arms around him at let him cry and soak the battered fabric of the his stolen t-shirt draped over your top, fisting at the frayed hems. 

He can’t pretend anymore, not after he’s shown you all the cards he’s had to lay out on the table. There’s no more facade, no more attempt at a stubborn masquerade to hide his hurt. He’s finally let you climb aboard his ship and take the wheel, trusting that you’ll guide him home to shore where he belongs. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” 

The way he repeats it, chanting it like a broken prayer, begging for your forgiveness makes you ache. You’ve forgiven him for the sins of his past long ago, yet he still feels the need to plead to you for redemption. You wish there was a way to take it from him, to let him unburden himself from the shame he’s carried for so long and carry it for him, even if just for a little while. To let him see what you see in him, to know that you love him for all of his past, and not just in spite of it. To let him know that the storm he has to weather is a storm you will never let him weather alone. But for now, three words are the best you can do. 

“I love you. I love you, Javi.” 

And you do. You mean it. With every bone in your body, with every fiber of your being, you mean it. And right now, he may not admit it, but he knows you do, too. Those three words are enough to let him see the shoreline approaching in the distance, to see the light of day beginning to peek its way through the cracks of the night sky, to carry him back home to you. 

He says it with his silence, the way his sobs start to slow, replaced with long inhales and exhales, his chest rising and falling against you. He says it with the way he holds you just a little tighter, hand splaying across the swell of your stomach, muttering a promise to himself just loud enough for you to hear. 

“I promise I’ll protect you. Both of you. If it’s the last thing I do.” 

“I know you will. I will, too. I promise.” 

The promise is the last gentle wave that pushes you back to the part of the beach where tides roll gently, forgetting the raging currents they once were in the middle of the ocean. A place where you can safely row your boat ashore without the fear of another dreadful thought creeping up on you and dragging you back out to face torment again. 

As you look out in front of you, the sky is no longer laden with heavy shades of black- a pastel sunrise is beginning to creep over the horizon, glistening like some sort of trophy for an underdog fistfight you’d managed to win, even if you’d come out the other side beaten and bruised. It was enough to nudge Javi’s head out of your lap, encouraging him to accept his prize at a game where winners came few and far between. 

Tonight, you'd never been more thankful the universe had let Javi come up a winner.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve been up early enough to watch the sunrise.” 

“Yeah. It is pretty, isn’t it? Sorry this is the reason you get to see it.” 

“As long as I get to be with you, that reason will always be good enough.”

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[majinbangus]

Soapy thoughts on him being smug and proud while his girlfriend is treating his split lip and other cuts and bruises he got in a brawl?

Some dude thought it would be wise to hit on his little sunshine, even after she said no. Repeatedly. So he really had to hammer in those manners into the guy ... 👀

(Love from this persistent new to fandom anon, but you can ignore 💜)

oh this makes the soapy thoughts sudsy (love to you too persistent new to fandom anon <3)

You've got an adorable frown, standing between his legs as you gently tilt his head up to dab at the cut on his smiling split lip.

"Wha's the matter, sunshine? Why you poutin'?" He lifts his fingers to touch your downturned lips only to be stopped as you push his hand back down with a glare. It's cute. Like a kitten or puppy bearing its fangs for the first time. He'll still have to be careful if he doesn't want to get bitten.

"Be quiet, you idiot, you're hurt. I'm tryin' to clean." This time you place a hand on his shoulder, as if that could keep him still, and continue your dabbing, pink tongue peeking out to rest at the corner of your mouth as you concentrate on your task.

Soap chuckles lowly, disregarding your orders. You open your mouth to scold him, but then he grabs the wrist of the hand that's doing a piss-poor job of keeping him still, and yanks you forward, making you straddle his lap.

"John-!"

"That wasn't a nice thing to say, sunshine. 'Specially since I got that bampot to leave you alone." Soap grabs your throat, squeezing lightly. He feels how your pulse quickens under his fingertips, the silent gulp that pushes against his palm. He waits for you to protest. You don't disappoint, simply resting a hand on his wrist. "C'mon, aren't you proud of me?"

"You got hurt!"

You let out a little yelp when he pulls you close, your lips brushing against his split one.

"This is nothing, Sunny. Just a few scrapes." He smirks knowingly. "You gonna tell me you didn't smile when that fucker whimpered after I broke his nose?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Gonna pretend you weren't gigglin' when he limped out of the pub with his tail tucked between his legs?"

You sigh, defeated, and lean your forehead against his, cradling his jaw. Your fingers gently scratch his stubble. "I just don't like it when you're hurt."

"And I don't like it when scum like him harass my woman."

You pull back, and Soap lets his hands rest on your waist while yours rest on his shoulders.

"You know, I am proud of you."

"I'm proud of me, too."

"Tch." You roll your eyes, but can't fight the little smile off your face. Soap grins back and you brush your fingers against his split lip. You study it, concerned. "I still need to clean you up."

"Mm." His eyes drop down to your lips, a calculating look in his eyes. "I can think of few ways you can do that."

You don't get to ask how because Soap flashes a wicked smile before pulling you into a heated kiss.

[librababe99]

Savage Devotion

cw: MDNI, 18+ ONLY, Logan (X-Men: Origins specifically), Fem! Reader, established relationship, heavy smut, animalistic tendencies, rough sex, dom/sub dynamics, degradation, P in V, unprotected sex (wrap it up!) overstimulation, slight breeding kink (if you squint) word count: 2.5K

Summary: where pleasure and pain blur, but Logan shows you exactly what it means to be taken by a beast.

A/N: I was in the mood for something a little spicy tonight 🤭 soooo I hope y'all enjoy this one! Please feel free to comment, like or reblog! Happy reading <3

(Marvel Masterlist)

You had always known Logan was a rough man. His reputation had preceded him long before you'd ever met him, tales of the Wolverine, a man with claws of adamantium and a growl that would make even the bravest quiver. You’d heard the stories, seen the aftermath of battles he’d been through, and yet, none of that had prepared you for the real thing—the man in front of you, the beast in your bed.

It wasn’t the first time. You weren’t naïve. You knew Logan carried a roughness in him that most men didn’t, a raw and untamed energy that hovered on the edge of feral. But there was something about the way he looked at you, even through his gruff exterior, that made you shiver—made you want more.

Right now, Logan loomed over you in the dimly lit cabin, his eyes glinting in the low light, like a predator sizing up its prey. He had that look on his face, the one that always sent a tremor through your core—a dark promise in those eyes, a wicked curl to his lip. Your wrists were bound above your head with a thick, coarse rope, tied to the wooden headboard. It wasn’t uncomfortable, not quite, but the tension in the rope was constant, a reminder of the control he held over you in that moment.

You shifted beneath him, testing the bonds, and his eyes narrowed. “You tryin’ to get free, sweetheart?”

His voice was like gravel, low and rough, sending a surge of heat between your legs. He was still fully clothed, wearing the same worn leather jacket he always did, his jeans sitting low on his hips, but that did nothing to hide the coiled strength beneath them. You bit your lower lip, knowing exactly what kind of game you were playing.

“Maybe,” you teased, letting your hips arch slightly off the bed, a subtle challenge.

Logan’s gaze darkened further, his nostrils flaring as he took a deep breath. He reached out, one gloved hand cupping your chin roughly, forcing you to meet his eyes. “You’re gonna be a brat tonight, huh?” His thumb pressed hard against your lips, forcing them open slightly, and you couldn’t help but flick your tongue out, just to taunt him.

That earned you a growl. Low, dangerous. Logan wasn’t the kind of man who played soft, and tonight, it was clear you’d pushed a button. He wasn’t going to be gentle. But that’s exactly what you wanted.

“Always trying to get a rise outta me, aren’t you?” he murmured, his voice dripping with the weight of a threat. “You want to see how far I’ll take this, don’t ya?”

His thumb slid further into your mouth, forcing you to suck on it, and you complied, tongue swirling around the rough skin. It tasted like leather, like the residue of smoke and iron. Logan was in no rush, his thumb slow and deliberate, controlling the pace of your mouth on him. He watched you with a hungry gaze, his body hovering over yours, dominating the space.

“I think I’ll teach you a lesson tonight,” he muttered, pulling his thumb from your lips with a soft pop. He leaned back, taking a moment to shed his jacket, revealing the taut muscles beneath his fitted shirt. Even in the dim lighting, you could see the way his muscles flexed beneath the fabric, the outline of scars, both old and new, that littered his body.

You tried to wiggle your wrists, but the ropes held firm. It was intoxicating, the way you were trapped, fully at his mercy, even though you trusted him not to go too far. Your heart pounded in your chest as he moved closer again, this time bringing his knee between your thighs, spreading your legs wide as he knelt between them.

“You don’t get to squirm,” Logan ordered, his voice deep and authoritative. “You wanted this, didn’t ya? So now, you’re gonna take whatever I give you.”

His hands, rough and calloused, slid up the inside of your thighs, teasing, but not gentle. He wasn’t here to pamper you tonight. You could see it in the way his jaw clenched, the way his eyes raked over your body with a predatory gleam. This was Logan in his element. Raw. Dominant. Unforgiving.

You were already soaked, anticipation pooling between your legs as his hands pushed your thighs further apart. His fingers teased at the waistband of your panties, hooking underneath them, but he didn’t pull them off yet. Instead, his fingers just hovered there, barely touching your skin, and it drove you wild.

“Logan, please,” you whimpered, trying to shift your hips toward his hand, desperate for more contact. But he pulled away just as quickly, his hand coming down hard against the inside of your thigh, a sharp slap that made you gasp.

“What did I say about squirming?” His voice was a growl, sending shivers up your spine. “You don’t get to tell me what to do, sweetheart. You don’t get to beg yet.”

You whimpered, trying to compose yourself, but the heat that pulsed between your legs was unbearable. You wanted him—needed him. Every inch of you was on fire, burning with desire, but Logan wasn’t going to make this easy for you. He liked to make you wait. Liked to see you unravel beneath him.

He leaned down, his mouth grazing the skin of your inner thigh, right where he had slapped you moments before. His teeth nipped at the tender flesh, and you squirmed again, biting down hard on your lip to stifle a moan.

“Sensitive tonight, aren’t ya?” he muttered against your skin, his stubble brushing over the sensitive area as he kissed his way higher, dangerously close to where you needed him most.

But still, he didn’t touch you where you wanted. His fingers teased the edges of your panties, his breath hot against the damp fabric, and all you could do was writhe beneath him, restrained and helpless.

“Please,” you gasped, voice hoarse with need. “Please, Logan, I need you.”

His response was a low chuckle, dark and full of promise. “Oh, I know what you need, darlin’. But I ain’t giving it to you until I’m good and ready.”

His fingers finally hooked into your panties, pulling them down agonizingly slow. The cool air against your exposed skin made you shudder, and Logan took his time, admiring the sight of you spread out before him, bound and at his mercy. He didn’t say a word as he tossed your panties aside, his eyes roaming over you with a hunger that was almost palpable.

You could see the bulge in his jeans, the way his body was already coiled with tension, and yet, he was holding back, savoring every second of your anticipation. The bastard loved it—loved watching you squirm, loved making you beg. And god dammit, you loved it too.

Logan’s fingers slid between your folds, slick with your arousal, and he growled low in his throat. “So wet already,” he muttered, his fingers spreading you open, teasing at your entrance but not pushing inside yet. “You really are a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

You bit your lip, trying to stifle another whimper as his fingers circled your clit, slow and deliberate. He was toying with you, building you up slowly, and it was driving you insane. You needed more—needed him inside you, needed the roughness, the way only Logan could fuck you.

“Logan, please,” you begged again, voice desperate. “I need you. Please.”

His fingers stilled, and for a moment, you thought he might finally give in. But instead, he pulled his hand away entirely, leaving you empty and aching.

“You don’t get to call the shots, darlin’,” he said, his voice hard and unyielding. “I’m in control here. You want me? You’re gonna take what I give you, and you’re gonna say thank you when I’m done.”

He stood, his presence towering over you, and you watched as he undid the belt on his jeans, the sound of leather sliding through metal sending a shiver of anticipation through you. You watched, breathless, as he pulled his cock free, hard and thick, the sight of him making your mouth water.

But Logan wasn’t in any rush. He stroked himself slowly, his eyes locked on yours, making sure you could see just how much he enjoyed watching you squirm. “Is this what you want?” he asked, his voice a low growl. “You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?”

You nodded, unable to speak, your throat tight with need.

Logan smirked, crawling back onto the bed, his body pressing down over yours as he lined himself up with your entrance. “You better be ready for it, ‘cause I ain’t going easy.”

And then he was inside you, a single, brutal thrust that filled you completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the stretch of him sending a white-hot pulse of pleasure through your body, and you cried out, the sound muffled by his mouth as he kissed you, hard and demanding.

Logan didn’t give you time to adjust. He set a punishing pace, his hips slamming into yours with each thrust, driving himself deeper inside you. His hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he fucked you hard, each thrust sending a jolt of pleasure and pain through your body.

“Look at you,” he growled, his voice a low rumble in your ear, “taking me so well, even when you’re all tied up. You’re such a good little slut for me, aren’t you?”

His words sent a fresh wave of heat pooling in your belly, a mixture of humiliation and lust that made you clench around him. You could barely respond, your breath coming in ragged gasps as he pounded into you relentlessly, each thrust a reminder of just how much control he had over your body. The ropes around your wrists burned slightly as you pulled against them instinctively, desperate for something to hold onto, something to ground you in the whirlwind of sensation.

Logan’s grip on your hips was bruising, fingers digging into your flesh as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. You could feel the tension building, that tight coil of pleasure deep in your core that threatened to snap with every thrust, but Logan wasn’t letting up. He was relentless, taking exactly what he wanted from you, the sound of your moans and the wet slap of skin filling the small cabin.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you clenching around me,” he growled, his breath hot against your ear as he leaned down, his stubble grazing your cheek. “You like it when I’m rough with you, don’t you? You like being used.”

The degradation hit you like a punch, and you couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your lips, your body arching up to meet his brutal pace. You hated how much you loved it, how much his cruelty turned you on, but Logan knew you too well. He could see the way your body responded to him, the way your thighs trembled as you hurtled toward the edge of oblivion.

“I want you to come for me,” he demanded, his voice sharp as his fingers found your clit, rubbing tight, firm circles over the swollen nub. “I want to feel you come around my cock. But you better thank me when you do, understand?”

You nodded frantically, tears of pleasure pricking at the corners of your eyes as the sensations overwhelmed you. His pace was merciless, the rough pressure on your clit pushing you right to the edge of orgasm, but Logan wasn’t going to let you go until you gave him exactly what he wanted.

“I said, do you understand?” he snarled, his voice commanding, and you gasped, nodding again as the words tore from your throat.

“Yes! Yes, Logan, I understand!”

“Good girl.”

That was all it took. The coil inside you snapped, and your orgasm hit you like a freight train, tearing through your body with an intensity that left you shaking and breathless. You cried out, your body spasming beneath his as you came hard, the feeling of his thick cock driving deep inside you the only anchor in the storm of pleasure.

“That’s it,” Logan grunted, his own voice rough with barely-contained lust. “Feel how tight you are around me? So good, fuckin’ perfect.”

But he didn’t stop. Even as you trembled and gasped beneath him, the waves of pleasure still crashing through you, Logan kept going, his hips slamming into yours with a punishing rhythm that only seemed to heighten your sensitivity. It was too much—too intense—and yet you wanted more, needed more. Every nerve in your body was alight, each thrust dragging another desperate moan from your lips.

Logan was close, you could tell from the way his breathing had grown ragged, the way his grip on your hips tightened. His pace grew erratic, each thrust harder and deeper than the last, and you knew he was about to come. But Logan wasn’t a man who would take what he wanted without giving something in return.

“You feel so fuckin’ good, sweetheart,” he growled, his voice thick with desire. “So tight, so wet for me. I’m gonna fill you up, gonna mark you as mine. You want that, don’t you? Want me to come inside you?”

“Yes!” you gasped, your body still quivering from the aftershocks of your orgasm. “Please, Logan, I need it—need you.”

That was all he needed. With a final, brutal thrust, Logan buried himself deep inside you, groaning low in his throat as he came, the warmth of his release spilling into you. His body tensed above you, his hips jerking as he rode out his orgasm, and you felt him pulse inside you, filling you completely.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the harsh breathing of both of you, the weight of Logan’s body pressing you into the mattress. You were spent, your body limp and sated, the ache between your legs a dull reminder of just how rough he had been. And yet, you wouldn’t have traded it for anything.

Slowly, Logan pulled out of you, his eyes still dark with hunger as he watched your body tremble in the aftermath of your shared pleasure. He untied your wrists carefully, his rough hands gentle now as he rubbed the red marks left by the rope.

“You did good, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice softer now, though no less rough. “Took everything I gave you.”

You smiled weakly, your body still buzzing with the remnants of pleasure. “I told you I could handle it.”

Logan smirked, his fingers brushing over your tender skin as he leaned down to kiss you, this time slow and possessive. “I know. That’s why I fuckin’ love you.”

The words sent a different kind of warmth through you, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Even after everything, Logan still managed to make you feel safe, cared for, even when he was at his roughest.

As you lay there, tangled in each other’s arms, Logan’s rough fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin, you couldn’t help but smile. This was the man you loved—feral, dangerous, but always wanting to please you. Always wanting to take care of you in his own brutal, primal way.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[seresinhangmanjake]

Ain't What It Is

Benny Cross x reader

Summary: You think you know your boyfriend better than anyone, but when Benny thinks you've cheated, you see a whole new side of him.

Notes/Warnings: angsty-ish, but fluff too. Cursing. Throwing things. Angry Benny. Drinking. Typos.

Words: 1800

Benny Cross Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag List

He’s home. And as thrilled as you are to see his bike parked in front of the house before midnight on a weekday, you’re just as confused. Excluding weekends, when riding during the day frees up Benny’s nights to give to you, it’s a rarity to see him between the dark hours of eight and three; a pattern so consistent that it’s almost silly to expect anything different.

You knew that when you met Benny. You knew exactly what you were getting into, and because of that, you don’t fault him for staying out late. Riding is important to Benny, it makes up a chunk of his soul, and because the other guys in the club—with their families and day jobs and grown-up responsibilities—can typically only meet after their kids are passed out from a bedtime story and their wives have finished screaming at them for daring to leave the house at such an ungodly hour, you let him be free to enjoy time with the club when he can. 

If that time is given to you instead, you’re happy to have him for an entire night. However, now, as you enter through the front door, it’s not what you expected. The house is a pit of darkness; could be abandoned if you didn’t know the space you were stepping into. 

“Benny?” you call, flicking on the nearest light. You toss your handbag onto the entryway table and make your way to the kitchen to check the fridge. If he’s already asleep, you hope he at least got to the leftovers you put away for him that he usually scarfs down before he comes to bed. 

Turning the corner, you gasp, nearly jumping out of your skin at the shadowed figure sitting at the breakfast table. Your hand flies to your thumping heart. 

“Jesus, honey, you scared me,” you breathe out. “Why are you sitting in the dark?”

A ray of moonlight streams through the window, surrounding your boyfriend and emphasizing his silhouette. He leans back in the chair and brings a bottle to his lips. 

“Have you been drinking? How much? God, please tell me you didn’t ride the bike drunk,” you say. He doesn’t answer. 

You sigh and move across the room with the intent to pull the silver chain of the small lamp on your counter—it’s a soft glow that won’t assault his eyes or yours after lingering in pitch black—but a strong hand wraps around your wrist as you pass by. 

“Benny, wha–”

Your eyes adjust. You can finally make out his features as he looks up at you, and they’re as dark as the space you occupy. “You messin' around on me?” he asks. 

If your eyebrows could lift above your forehead they would. If your jaw could unhinge itself, it’d be on the floor. “What?”

Benny shoots up, chair skidding back on the tile with an awful scraping sound. “Are you fuckin’ someone?” he spits out, leaning into you.

“What do you mean? I’m–”

He drops your wrist and groans, twisting on his heel and running his hand through already messy hair before turning back to you. And you don’t understand, because this, right here, is not your boyfriend. This is not how he acts. Rageful? Yes. One edge? Slightly inebriated? Yes and yes. But accusatory? Hot-tempered with you? Not for a single moment in the course of your time together. 

“It’s that prick your ma’s tryin’ to set you up with, isn’t it!” he shouts. “I don’t get why she thinks he’s better than me!”

And then suddenly you know. You catch the anger trying to disguise the twinge of pain in his voice. Pain that is stemming from one thing and one thing only—your Mama’s bullshit. 

She’s sly, that woman, and when you and Benny went to her house last week for dinner because you were exhausted of her complaints that she never sees you, who did you find in the seat assigned next to yours but her best friend’s son; a marking director in the city who makes an unnecessary amount of money and who expressed interest in you. 

She knew you were bringing Benny. She knew because she requested that you bring Benny. You had plans to spare him the agony of an evening with the woman who hates him for his upbringing and unpredictable lifestyle, but when she asked for him, a glimmer of hope sparked. Maybe she was finally letting it go, turning over a new leaf by allowing your relationship to be your and Benny’s business and no one else’s. But you were so wrong. 

An hour and a half of verbal jabs at your boyfriend were evened out by the plethora of compliments she had for her top pick as son-in-law. Benny was a trooper for your sake, but once the words ‘you two would make beautiful babies’ left her wrinkling lips, it was obvious the twig of his restraint was about to snap. And frankly, so was yours.

You took Benny by the hand, stormed out of your childhood home to ride back to your real home, and let Benny claim you however he wanted for the remainder of the night while you praised and soothed and reassured him of your feelings. And you thought those actions and words were enough for Benny to understand where your heart lies, but you’d be lying if you said he hasn’t seemed different over the last seven days.

You release a slow breath, “Honey…”

“So he wears a fuckin’ tie! So what!” His arm whips out and the bottle smashes against the wall, shards sprinkling the floor. 

“Benny!”

“What!”

“Calm down!”

In two large steps, his body is looming over yours, your upper arms suddenly wrapped in his large hands, squeezing but not enough to hurt. “I know he ain’t like me, but that don't make him better for ya,” he says. “‘Sides, he can’t love ya like I do, so what do ya want him for?”

And that is the last straw because now you’re insulted. You shimmy your body out of his grasp and he glances down at his empty hands with wide eyes, brows knitted, lips parted as if you had simply vanished.

“I am not messing around!” you snap. 

“Then where the fuck ya been tonight?” he demands. “Huh? Ya weren’t here. You’re always here. You’ve never not been here at this time’a night, so what am I supposed to be thinkin’?”

Your arms cross over your chest. Your jaw clenches. Your eyes burn. “Sit down.”

“Baby, you tell me right no–”

“Sit down, Benny!” 

His head jerks back at the harshness you rarely exhibit, and though he briefly hesitates, he eventually complies, because you won’t use that tone unless he crosses a line and he knows it, and when you do have to use that tone because he has crossed a line, he knows he loses the things he likes. Sex; your homemade blueberry pie; your willingness to ride with him and go to picnics and bonfires with the club—all of it, for however long you decide. Benny doesn’t like to beg, but in those times, you can take him to his knees. 

“Do you know how many nights I spend not knowing exactly where you are or when you’re going to be home?” you ask, bending at the waist until you’re at his eye level. “I knew going into this relationship that that's how things were going to be and I wanted you anyway. I understood how important it is for you to maintain your riding with the club, and I’ve always been happy that you have that. But you don’t know where I am once and suddenly I’m cheating on you?”

You straighten your spine and shake your head. “My cousin called. Needed me to watch her kid. I rang the bar but Joe said you guys were out riding.”

Benny’s huffs. His hand runs down his face, then in one final snippy effort, he says, “Well, you could’a left a note.”

Scoffing, you go over to the fridge and point to the piece of paper that in bright red lettering states: ‘Watching Teddy. I’ll be home late. Love you,” followed by your name and a little heart. 

“Try again,” you say. 

With that, he seems to sober up, both in his inebriation and attitude. As he should. It’s embarrassing to miss the note written in massive letters in an obnoxious color stuck to the fridge where you always leave notes for one another. In fact, you’re embarrassed for him, and you would tell him so were it not for the kicked-puppy look on his face that drains the irritation from yours. 

“You love me,” you say.

Benny sighs. “I know.”

“And you can't trust me?”

He leans forward in his seat, elbows perching on knees and hands scrubbing his face as if it might erase the shame of his accusations. “I do, baby, I just…

You return to his side, and planting your hands on his shoulders, you push him back in the chair to take a seat on his lap. Your arms wrap around his neck. 

“My mama doesn’t know what’s good for me if she thinks you're not it, but you can’t be treating me like this,” you tell him. “It's not fair. I don’t sit at home thinking you’re messing around on me.”

Benny’s eyes connect to yours as his hand curls at your waist. “I wouldn’t.”

“I know that,” you say. Your palm cups his scruffy cheek. “And you should know I wouldn’t either, so what happened? It’s not like you to be acting like this.”

He takes a second to collect his thoughts, then replies, “I was ridin’ and I missed you so I cut it short, but when I got home I couldn’t find you. And then I started thinkin’ and…” He shakes his head. “Baby, your ma's said shit before but she never shoved another guy in my face. I don’t give a fuck if she hates me, but– ”

“Benny, honey, there’s no way,” you swear to him, running your thumb over the sharp line of his cheekbone. “I mean, he wears a fucking tie.”

Benny’s lips part, eyes flicking back and forth between yours, before he softly chuckles in relief. His head falls forward, forehead resting on your collarbone. Your skin takes the heat of his heavy breaths, and then you feel the press of his lips. They make a gentle trail from your chest, up your neck, over your chin, before planting firmly on your mouth. 

“You're mine. You’re it,” you say when the kiss breaks. “No other man but you, Benny Cross.”

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

So, that deja vu fic got me thinking.. and what if katsuki has a childhood friend (obvi friends w deku too) where he is always trying to impress her and class 1-a notices or ( if you’d like them older ) the agency notices and starts betting on when he’ll confess to her. turns out, she actually confesses first and everyone is happy (and slightly disappointed… nobody got their money) 😋😋

Also, when i saw the notification “@cashmoneyyysstuff started following you” i have never hit a follow back button so fast 😭🫶

Remember you’re amazing, take care of yourself, drink water, stay safe, and know that you are loved ❤️

bet on it, bet on it !!

there's definitely something going on between you two, and your classmates are determined to figure out when it'll finally happen

a/n: WAAAA @itzjustj-1000 this is soo cute ! especially since katsuki being a loser n tryin to impress us instead of just confessing is honestly adorable. ALSO ALSO ur LITERALLY THE SWEETEST !! ur the loveliest it's a given i had to follow u !! i tried to honour ur request as best i could, i hope you like it ! also say it w me yall: WEEWOOO WEEWOOO CHILDHOODFRIENDS TO LOVERS ALEEEEEERRTTT(yall r forcing my hand atp (not that im complaining tho))

fem reader, katsuki is a whipped little loser, katsuki likes getting praised by reader but acts like he doesn't challenge (fails miserably), kaminari n sero are little shits, m*neta (he doesn't say anything creepy don't worry <3) everyone is in their 2nd year in this one. lemme know if i missed something else !

for as long as izuku midoriya could remember, you and kacchan have always been a packaged deal.

deku remembers all the way back in primary school, how kacchan would bend over backwards to impress you, spending his days trying to win your praise like he was collecting it. whether it be showing off how good his reading skills were, or showing off his newly acquired quirk to you at any given chance. (away from the eyes of the teachers, of course)

or even with silly things. like the time he showed you how long he could hold his breath underwater. it didn't matter, as long as he could show it off to you, he would.

deku remembers how pride would fill his childhood friends face, cheeks practically glowing and a smile basically reaching his ears. a simple "woooah, you're so cool kacchan !" had the boastful blonde giddy for the entire day, chest puffed out as he walked ahead of everyone, with you right next to him, of course. (you were the only one worthy enough to stand by his side after all)

and though he spent his time trying to win your praise, he also needed your attention constantly. katsuki constantly demanded your attention. he's the only one who's allowed to sit next to you in class, you're always the one he picks first when it's time to pick teams to play dodgeball. he's your partner for every project and you're the one who walks beside him when you and your friends go venture out in the woods to go out on your adventures. and even though they would usually take place in the park, katsuki always claimed he'd be the one to protect you if anything were to happen.

as kids, deku was probably the only one who noticed how hard katsuki tried to impress you.

and he's probably the only one to notice how he still does it now.

"sooo...kacchan totally has a thing for yn, agreed ?"

"mhm. definitely."

"yup."

"'m suprised you just noticed that now, kaminari...actually i'm not really suprised." jirou drawled, twirling one of her earphone jacks around her finger.

okay, so apparently he isn't the only one who noticed.

kaminari pouts "i noticed ! i noticed, like, ages ago !" he huffs into his folded elbows on the desk " i just wanted to see if you guys did !"

"you'd be stupid to miss it." sero cuts in smoothly. their grouchy homeroom teacher somehow ended up absent, leading to an impromptu free period. which in turn caused for loads of gossip he had somehow gotten roped into. kirishima, kaminari and sero were talking about you and katsuki, happily chatting off about something they couldn't hear from where they were sitting.

"maaaannn, bakugou's way too lucky, scoring such a pretty girl. what's he got that i don't ?!" kaminari whines. kirishima shushes him lightly, afraid to rouse the attention of a certain blonde they just so happened to be talking about

"now that i think about it.." sero wondered, leaning onto kirishima's shoulder "midoriya, you guys are childhood friends, right ? have they always been..." he cuts himself off, pointing over at you both with his chin for midoriya to look back. ".. like that ?"

you're chatting about something that's apparently funny or exciting, with katsuki listening along attentively, his head resting in his palm like he's admiring you. his full focus entirely on you, as it usually was.

you're using your hands a lot while you're talking and deku recognizes it as the thing you do when you've gotten to the juicy part of the conversation, deku almost wishes he could listen in, then remembers it's not good to be nosy and shakes the thought away. every once in a while katsuki interjects with a subtle smirk on his face and his remarks have you either giggling or playfully pouting at him unable to hide your smile. the playfulness in his heavy lidded red eyes remains at any reaction you give him, though. kacchan's worked on his poker face over the years but it seems he can't control himself when it comes to you.

izuku realizes he's been openly staring for too long and quickly turns back to look at sero who raises an eyebrow, awaiting a response.

izuku chuckles to himself "yeah, pretty much." he hums, playing around with the ends of his tie as he speaks.

"oooouu~" kaminari sings, suddenly lifting his head up from where it was hidden into his shoulder with a sudden burst of energy, startling kirishima. "juicy details about kacchan, i'm in !"

"i don't know if it's exactly 'juicy'" izuku sweatdropped, chuckling awkwardly. "but kacchan and yn have always been really close. when we were younger, kacchan would always be seeking out yn's attention. he'd be really possesive..or protective over her, i guess ?—it was all pretty harmless though." he recounted, smiling softly at his childhood memories nostalgically pouring into his mind.

both kirishima and sero let out quiet hums when he finishes while denki simply pouts "s'not as juicy as i thought it would be" he huffs petulantly, receiving a knock on his head from jirou who hisses a "he told you that, idiot"

kirishima places his head into the palm of his hands and sighs dreamingly "man, that's so cute. bakugou's been a major softie for yn for so long.." he clenches his fist and izuku thinks he sees a little tear in his eye "so manly !" he exclaims through his sharp teeth.

"yeah, i don't know if 'manly' is the word i'd use to describe someone who's been whipped for so long and still doesn't have the balls to confess" sero ribbed, snickering to himself with denki joining in shortly after.

"hey, don't be assholes !" jirou shot "i think it's kinda cute y'know ? not really..manly..but—cute." she said.

"how much you wanna bet he's not gonna confess until graduation?" kaminari challenged.

"wouldn't put it past 'im." a voice suddenly chimes in. the five of them all turn their heads left, right then down at the voice that came from none other than mineta, who had somehow wormed his way into the conversation.

"and what the hell do you think you're doing sneaking into our conversation, freak" jirou sneers, glaring down at mineta who had already dragged his chair over, including himself into the group.

mineta decides to ignore jirou as he places his arms onto the desk seriously like he's imitating some type of mafia don. " bakugou's never gonna confess any time soon, he's too much of a pussy" he waves off nonchalantly "i bet he won't even have done it by the time we've finished school ! "

" and i bet you wouldn't say that to his face !" kaminari guffaws and the purple haired boy sputters. izuku can't hold back his grin as he watches them bicker.

" kacchan's always been pretty..sure of himself" he settles "i don't think it'd take him that long to confess" he guessed, pressing his thumb onto his chin "though maybe the fact that he's so sure of himself could hold him back.."

ah, there he goes again.. the rest of them thought as they watch midoriya babble on and on into theory land.

denki suddenly slams his fists on the desks, startling everyone. he sucks in a breath "alright ! i bet a thousand yen and the entirety of my lunch box that bakugou won't confess by the end of this year !" he exclaims, not too loud but loud enough so everyone in the group could hear him.

"oooouu~ what're we betting on ?" mina chimes in, suddenly appearing behing jirou and in turn startling her. she flashes her a little glare causing the pink haired girl to offer a weak apology and a hug.

"kaminari just bet a thousand yen and his lunch that bakugou won't confess to yn by the end of this year" sero smirked, clearly enjoying the drama

" ou, that sounds fun ! lemme join in too !" the pink skinned girl pleaded giving her best puppy eye and pout combo.

"sure ! just don't come cryin' to me when you lose" kaminari agrees, playfully jabbing at his friend.

"this is so stupid. i'm not betting money on this.."jirou scoffs rubbing at her temple. "c'moooonnn, don't be chicken, jirou ! " denki whines

"mhmm, c'moonn jirou give into peer pressure !" mina joins in, wrapping her arms around the purple haired girl and swaying her side to side.

jirou groans before finally conceding "..five hundred yen. that's all you're getting from me." she concludes sourly crossing her arms.

" i'm gonna go with kaminari's and say his balls won't drop 'till graduation" sero says simply, smirking almost mischieviously at the display of sudden chaos. he looks a little too pleased, izuku sweatdrops.

"i'm not betting on my bro, that's so unmanly." kirishima refused " i say just let them go at their own pace" he finishes, receiving a nasty look from his chaotic classmates.

needless to say kirishima gave in to peer pressure soon after, offering a modest 1,100 yen by this summer for his friend to confess.

"well i stand on what i said, i don't think he has the balls to say it at all. and i put that on all the money in my pockets ! " mineta proudly spoke.

"how much is that, like, one fruit roll-up ?" mina deadpanned, not missing a beat causing the group to erupt in laughter. mineta's objection's falling on deaf ears.

meanwhile, katsuki notices you've stopped talking all of a sudden. it takes him by surprise as you were so into it a minute ago. "what's up ?" he asks. his question snaps you out of your trance and you jump slightly, turning back to look at him "oh , nothing ! they just seem to be having fun " you gasp, a smile crawling up on your face as you look back at your friends having a good time.

katsuki on the other hand has a slight pout forming on his face, displeased at how his loud mouthed friends distracted you from your conversation. and from him he thinks, but that makes him feel like a snot nosed little kid again and his expression turns even more sour.

"tch. the fuck are those losers so loud for" he grumbles under his breath. you catch it though, and you giggle. his eyes brighten and his brows unfurrow the slightest bit when he hears it.

"don't be such a buzzkill katsu, s'not their fault you're no fun." you jest, chuckling to yourself when he scowls at you.

"fuck off ! m'not a buzzkill" he rolls his eyes, huffing indignantly "an' i'm plenty of fun" he finishes grumpily. you laugh a little more, covering your mouth with your hand when you catch a peak of him narrowing his eyes at you making fun of him. he simply rolls his eyes and sighs, shaking his head. he'll let it slide, he always does with you.

"right, right. my apologies, sir dynamight" you chuckle, bowing slightly at him, he huffs out a laugh "that's sir lord explosion murder god dynamight to you" he snorts. you throw your head back and laugh and katsuki feels the same pride he used to feel when he'd found something cool to show you back when you were brats. his stomach feels fuzzy and his head feels clouded the way it used to when you'd offer him your big, bright sparkly eyes and a "you're so cool kacchan !""

god, it never failed to remind him how much of a whipped loser he was for you.

and unfortunately still is.

you scoot your chair a little closer to his and katsuki has to use all of his might not to blush at the sudden proximity, as miniscule as the distance between you both was to begin with.

"well okay then, sir lord explosion murder god dynamight" you say rapidly, laughing to yourself. katsuki let's out a breathy chuckle, it's cute. he's cute. " i'm sure it doesn't mean much, but i at least think you’re plenty fun to be around"

katsuki feels his heart skip a beat too many.

you whisper, like it's a secret. you're in your own little corner while all your classmates are chatting away yet you say this to him like it's something between you and him. batting your eyelashes up at him. god, it's like you're out to kill him and honestly katsuki thinks for a second he wouldn't mind dying by your hand.

he's such a whipped loser.

he can't think straight. you're sitting so close to him, you're lips are glossy from that lip gloss you always have on you. you smell nice, katsuki feels like a creep for smelling you like you aren't a breath away from him.

"yeah, well.." he utters lowly. he licks his lips, feeling himself grow dizzy as he watches you watch the movement intensely and swallows. his adam's apple bobs and he can feel himself blushing like an idiot. " i don't think you're all that bad either" the end of his sentence comes out a little breathy, he barely realizes he's speaking. like his body is deciding for him, he doesn't mind much.

you give him a sweet little smile and your eyes shine like stars and you look up at him like he's everything, like he's the coolest. he wants you to look at him like this all the time.

you suddenly lean in and kiss him, right next to his lips, just at the corner. it lasts for about 0.3 seconds but katsuki feel his entire body exploding from the inside like he's let off his quirk onto himself.

"i take it back actually" you start " you're super cool to be around,kacchan " you whisper bashfully. katsuki huffs out a little laugh once his heart had stabilized itself a little bit, a small smile growing on his face—

" AW MAN? WHAT THE HELL ?!"

you both turn to the sound of your electric classmate, sporting a little pout on his face. proceeding to get dog-piled on by your other classmates surrounding him, causing him to let out whines and moans of complaint.

"i-ignore him !" mina waves off nervously "just keep doin' what you were doin !— i mean, we weren't watching or anything !" she splutters.

"nice one." jirou deadpanned sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "look, we don't mean to pry or anything, but who kissed who first ?"

at that, katsuki's cheeks flare up, turning a damn near violent shade of pink. he's about to yell obscenties at his classmates, about to tell them it's none of their business when-

" i did !" you giggle, a cat-like grin on your face

"you sneaky fuckin minx-" katsuki growls, shoving his index fingers into your sides and you let out a squeal mixed with a giggle. you're quickly drowned out by your classmates releasing a group groan, with sero and kaminari yelling and booing at katsuki, who in turn starts threathing them, his hands crackling and popping.

you don't exactly know what's happening, but you can't help but feel extremely joyful and happy.

"soo.." mineta starts "since i said bakugou wouldn't confess first doesn't that technically mean i-"

" IN YOUR DREAMS ! "