#And he turned out to be a liar and a prick | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

biblicallyaccuratemeat · 5 months ago

Text

A Firm Hand

MDNI!!!

A/N: I posted this on ao3 a little bit ago, so I figure why not post it here too! Beta read by @teaflavoredwitch Bucky Barnes x female reader, past Steve Rogers x reader implied/referenced, cheating, alcohol, kind of dub con if you squint, p in v sex, dom!Bucky, protective Bucky, dirty talk, kitchen sex, spanking, fingering, drunk sex, size kink, friends to lovers, angst and porn, shamelessly self-indulgent

Word Count: 5.3k

Steve Rogers is a jackass.

Captain fucking America, mister cherry pie and morals, was a self-righteous prick. Bucky had never felt more pissed off at Steve in his one hundred plus years of living than he does right now. You curled up in his bed, bawling your eyes out and practically chugging some cheap magnum bottle of whiskey.

Steve, who apparently didn’t believe in too much of a good thing, when he decided to stick his patriotic dick in Sharon Carter of all people. Of course, you found out. Steve was a terrible liar despite having the balls to actually cheat on you. You don’t know why you immediately go to Bucky, but you do. In the year you’ve been dating Steve, you became rapidly closer with the former Winter Soldier. Perhaps it was the forced proximity, or maybe you were just kindred spirits.

Bucky, of course, falls for you. Hard and fast like an idiot. Forced to pine after his best friend’s girl as if his life wasn’t already a fucking sob story. Always the dutiful friend, listening to you vent about the pitfalls of your relationship with Steve and trying to offer sound advice. Bucky learns to tame the green eyed monster inside him, finding contentment as your friend and confidant.

When you show up on his doorstep at eight o’clock on a Saturday night, he knows Steve fucked up. He knows it without you even having to say a word, because he knew this would happen. He knew, on some level, that Steve didn’t deserve you. Not that Bucky deserved you either, god knows he was even less deserving. But you went to him, so that has to mean something, right?

The intensifying of your sobs pull Bucky out of his reverie, head snapping in your direction again. Some commercial blares on his shitty little TV in the corner of his bedroom, Even the Nights Are Better playing in the background on some allergy medicine ad.

“T-this was our song!” You wail, burying your face in a pillow as your body shudders with the force of your sobs. The bottle of whiskey remains clutched in your hand. If it weren’t for your inconsolable state, Bucky might’ve been impressed and slightly turned on at the way you chug the whiskey. A woman after his own heart.

Bucky grimaces, perched next to you, stock still, “Okay, dollface, I think that’s enough whiskey.”

He feels awkward and stilted, like his skin is on too fucking tight and the room is too warm. He feels way too self-aware, he’s tuned in to every little sniffle and hiccup.

Seriously, fuck Steve for this. Not only for breaking your heart, but also creating the perfect storm. You, vulnerable and drunk in his fucking bed of all places. A wet dream come to life, if he’s being honest.

He needs to get the whiskey from you. He practically has to pry it out of your hands, amber liquid sloshing inside the nearly empty bottle. Fuck. He should have cut you off way earlier. He grabs the remote, clicking the mute button, “Honey, let’s take some deep breaths, yeah?”

Bucky tries to smile reassuringly but it’s tight and stretches over his teeth in a weird way that makes him look more machine than man. You peer over the edge of the pillow smushed against your face, doe eyes blinking owlishly at him, “Deep breaths?” You echo, incredulously, “You want me to take deep breaths when I walk in on my boyfriend tongue deep in that blonde bitch? Are you fucking for real, Bucky?”

Bucky’s mouth opens and closes rapidly, like a fish out of water. He sure fucking feels like one, incredibly out of his depths. He’s not equipped for this, a tornado of hormones and heartbreak. His stupid silence somehow seems to agitate you even further, angelic features twisting and morphing through every stage of grief in a matter of seconds.

Your anguish quickly gives way to fury, chucking the pillow across the room, “Has he always been like this? Huh?”

Bucky blinks taken aback, “What? Steve?” He sighs, running a hand through shortly cropped hair, “No, doll, he hasn’t always been like this. I’ve known Steve since we were kids, and he’s never been a saint but he’s not usually an inconsiderate, lying, cheating asshole either.” Bucky’s voice is hard and contemptuous.

Bucky takes your dainty hand in his, squeezing reassuringly, “Hating Steve isn’t going to make this better. It’s not going to erase the pain he caused,” He pauses, pursing his lips as he tries to find the right words, “You gotta let yourself feel this, dollface. Feel the anger, feel the hurt, the betrayal. Don’t suppress it, because that’s just gonna make it fester.”

His jaw clenches, teeth grinding together. Bucky silently attempts to work through his own feelings on the matter. On one hand, his never wavering loyalty to Steve, his brother in arms and every sense of the word. On the other hand is you. Heartbroken, far too lovely for his comfort and the odd, delicate bond between you two. Bucky swallows, his mouth filled with a metallic taste as he fights down the ever growing urge to hunt Steve down and beat him within an inch of his life.

He realizes you’re staring at him, gaze hard, “Why didn’t you warn me?” You ask in a quiet, hollow tone that makes Bucky feel like his heart is going to shrivel up in his chest.

Running a hand down his face, Bucky huffs, “Warn you?” He echoes, “Honey, I… I didn’t know.” He implores, clenching his fists in his lap, “I swear to God, if I had known he was being such a fucking prick, I would’ve put a stop to it, I would’ve beaten the information out of him myself.”

“You didn’t know?!” You throw your hands up in the air, gesturing wildly, “You didn’t have a single fucking inkling? I don’t believe that for a second, Bucky,” You hiss, movements jerky and agitated as you tousle your hair, “You didn’t think to say, “Hey doll,”” You begin to mimic Bucky’s voice, “‘You’re about to date the goddamn devil!’”

Holding his hands up in a placating gesture, Bucky scoots back. Your accusation stings, hitting a nerve he hadn’t known was exposed, “Hey, hold on just a damn minute,” He says, his voice rising in defense, “I’m not fucking psychic, dollface. I knew Steve could be an inconsiderate ass sometimes, but I didn’t know he was straight up cheating on you.”

Bucky scoffs, a mixture of shock and anger coursing through his veins, “I’m not going to apologize for not knowing what my so-called best friend was up to behind your back. That’s not fucking fair.”

His gaze softens slightly, his voice lowering to a more conciliatory tone, “Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t see the signs earlier. I’m sorry you got hurt. But don’t think for a second that I would’ve ever encouraged you to be with someone who would treat you like this. You mean too damn much to me for that.”

You’re still pissed, of course. Feeling self-destructive, though Bucky’s heartfelt declaration hits deep. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, a feral kind of rage filling you, “Oh yeah? Well… you’re… You’re an ass!” You shout, a half-hearted insult. You weren’t really trying, you just wanted to burn bridges. You push yourself out of the bed, stomping out of the room. Slamming the door for good measure, the sound echoing through the apartment like a gunshot. Storming into the kitchen, you begin digging through Bucky’s sparse cabinets for more liquor.

Bucky stared after you, stunned and hurt by your somewhat childish outburst. Your accusations burned like salt in a fresh wound. He stood there for a moment, anger and confusion warring within him. Then, with a fierce scowl, he stalked after you, his long strides quickly closing the distance between his bedroom and the kitchen.

The floorboards creak under his heavy footsteps as he follows the path down the hallway. When he reaches the kitchen, he grabs the doorframe, leaning in. “Hey, wait a fucking minute.” He all but growls, his voice a deep, dangerous rumble. “I know you’re hurting, but you don’t get to just accuse me of being an ass and then stomp away like a fucking toddler.”

He steps further into the kitchen, a breath away from crowding you against the counter, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Steve being a prick, but I won’t accept you throwing blame at me when I'm trying my goddamn hardest to be here for you!”

Bucky leans back against the counter, scoffing, “We both know you’re better than this, sweetheart. Don’t let Steve’s mistakes make you forget that. I’m not the enemy.”

You snatch a bottle of vodka out of the cabinet, there’s no more than a few sips left. You down it in one go, sighing tiredly, “I don’t need you to be here for me. I don’t need you to fix me, Bucky. I’m not some little dolly for you to glue back together. You don’t need to make your fucking amends with me.”

Bucky’s expression hardens, snatching the bottle from your hands, “Watch your fucking tone,” He whispers, cornering you against the counter. There’s a glimmer in his eyes, you see it. The Winter Soldier lurking in the back of his psyche. It sends a perverse thrill down your spine.

“I’m not trying to fix you. You’re not some damn doll, I know that. I’ve always known that.” He pauses, taking a deep breath, “I’m here as your friend, to listen, to support you. But I won’t allow you to take your anger out on me, honey.”

You’ve never been good at knowing when to quit, it’s never been your strong suit. Now is not an exception, you double down on your brattiness.

“Don’t tell me to watch my fucking tone, I’m not a child.” You hiss, scowling up at him. He towers over you, all muscle and man. Damn him for being so fucking tall, built like a skyscraper. You damn near have to be on your tiptoes at this point, it’s ridiculous.

He grasps your chin hard, cheeks smushing up and lips forced into a pout, “Watch it, little girl,” He murmurs lowly, licking his lips, “You can be mad. You can scream and shout and curse until you’re blue in the face. But you don’t get to talk to me like that.”

Those sapphire eyes flashed with a mixture of anger, frustration, and a hint of something else, something that made your insides feel molten and heady.

“I’ve taken a lot of shit for the people I love. I’ve been beaten, tortured, and turned into a fucking weapon. But damn if I’m going to stand here and take your anger when all I’m trying to do is be here for you.” Slowly, deliberately, he leans in closer until his breath is hot against your pursed lips, “I know you’re hurting. I know you’re angry. But I won’t let you push me away, dollface. I won’t let you be self-destructive.” His voice drops to a fervent whisper, “You fucking try me, sweetheart. I’ve dealt with terrorist threats and mad titans. Fuck, I’ve been a terrorist. You think a little thing like you is going to scare me off?”

Bucky’s hand snakes around to the back of your neck. You whirl around, the world spinning, and he pushes you face first into the hardwood. You all but shriek in surprise, eyes comically wide. Your left cheek squished on the cool flooring, shoulders pinned down. Your knees prop your ass up in the air, curving your spine into a sharp arch. He has you right where he wants you, submissively positioned. An offering, your perky backside up in the air invitingly. Your body betrays you, a fucking shiver of pleasure wracking through you. You can feel your cunt leaking eagerly at Bucky’s manhandling.

You wonder if he realizes the effect this is having on you. All thoughts of Steve and his betrayal fly from your mind as your pussy throbs in time with your rapid heartbeat. Shame and arousal burn your cheeks, you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to will away your body’s traitorous reaction.

This is Bucky. This is fucking Bucky. Steve’s best friend, your weird friend-ish acquaintance. You know him because of Steve. This is a bad idea, horrible. You need to put a stop to this immediately before you actually let him have his way with you on the kitchen floor. Because you’re heartbroken, you’re pissed, and you’re far wetter than you’ve been in months. You’re too vulnerable and fucked up, not to mention drunk to make a sound decision right now. And you know, you fucking know if Bucky asked to rail you within an inch of your life… You’d say yes.

So, “Bucky, uh,” You begin to protest meekly, all the fire and spit on your tongue moments ago evaporating.

The hand that is now pressing down in the middle of your back and pinning your sternum to the ground increases in pressure fractionally. A silent warning of the consequences of pushing back even further.

The words die on your tongue, you focus your gaze on a piece of lint by your face and huff.

But then, slowly, deliberately he brings his hand down on your upturned ass. Delivering a sharp smack that echoes through the room. A surprised shriek of indignation rips from your throat, equal parts horrified and aroused. The stinging pain radiates across your tender flesh, a stark contrast to the coolness of the floor beneath you. “What in the fuck are you doing?” You demand angrily, scowl deepening.

“Keep testing me, honey, and I’ll show you exactly what happens to bratty little girls who don’t listen,” Bucky punctuates his words with another sharp smack to your ass, watching as the flesh and fat jiggle and redden beneath his organic palm.

He drapes his muscular torso across your back, leaning over your bent form. His breath is hot against your ear, his body a heavy, unyielding weight pressing down on you. It’s a comforting contrast from the rough treatment your butt is receiving, like a warm weighted blanket.

Despite your best efforts to stay quiet, a tiny breathless noise escapes your throat. Halfway between a moan and a squeak, the flush staining your cheeks darkens further. You bite your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, simultaneously mortified and turned on.

Momentarily caught off guard, the super soldier freezes, his vibranium hand resting on the curve of your hip. A look of shock and disbelief crosses his handsome features. He had expected anger, perhaps even more fighting back, but never in a million years did he think you would react so unabashedly with desire.

For a moment, Bucky simply stares down at you, taking in the pretty flush of your cheeks, the way your lips parted around that sinful little noise. His cock, hard and heavy, strains through his jeans and presses into the curve of your ass. That all-consuming hunger that HYDRA tortured out of his system returns with a fucking vengeance. His blood sings in his veins at your little noises and rushes to his dick.

A low, strangled groan escapes his throat as Bucky tries desperately to grasp at the last vestiges of self-control. His hand digs into the fat of your hip, squeezing and kneading almost unconsciously, “Fuck, honey…” He murmurs, his tone ragged with the overwhelming heat consuming you both, “Are you… are you getting off on this?”

Bucky moves impossibly closer, chapped lips brushing against the shell of your ear, “‘Cause if you are, honey… I’ll fucking wreck you and I won’t be held responsible for it.”

“Shut up,” You whine weakly, your shame and arousal fighting for dominance. Despite your half-hearted protest, you arch your spine deeper. You’re soaked, you know it. Embarrassingly soaked, probably through your fucking sweatpants at this point. Your cunt aches, feeling too empty. Bucky’s dark promise of wrecking you? Fuck if it doesn’t make you clench around nothing, needy and debauched. He’s barely touched you and you’re sure if he so much as brushes past your clit, you’ll cum harder than you ever have in your life.

Bucky’s eyes darken with lust as you arch your back, presenting your ass to him like a cat in heat. A low, approving growl rumbles deep in his throat. The hand on your hip slides back to palm the globe of your ass, sinking into the fatty flesh. You hope it bruises, god you want him to mark you. You want that vibranium arm to rip you into pretty little chunks and remake you into something new. Something Steve’s never touched, never kissed, never held.

“Shut up? Honey, the way you’re acting, you don’t want me to shut up,” He taunts, his voice a deep, seductive murmur.

That rips a pathetic whimper from your throat, eyes fluttering shut, “I’m too drunk for this.”

Bucky hums, “Yeah? You’re a big girl, you know how to say stop.”

You shudder, all but melting beneath him, “I’m too sad for this.”

Smack!

This time Bucky’s metal arm meets your ass cheek, you jolt, gasping. You’re panting openly against the hardwood, eyes screwed shut and blushing like a virgin. The intoxicating mixture of stinging pain and molten pleasure are far more powerful than the whiskey in your belly.

The former Winter Soldier all but rips your sweatpants down, bunching them around your knees. The cool air against your newly exposed skin makes you shudder, a perverse shiver racing down your spine. The rough, calloused pads of Bucky’s fingers dig into the tender flesh of your ass cheek, kneading and squeezing the malleable muscle possessively, “Fuck, baby, look at this ass… you’re fucking perfect,” He groans approvingly, hips rocking forward to grind his clothed erection against you, “Steve was a goddamn fool to ever even look at another woman.”

Without warning, he brings down his palm hard against your bare ass, the sharp crack of skin against skin filling the otherwise silent apartment. The biting ache blossoms across your nerves, quickly followed by a rush of heat and traitorous surge of arousal, “Maybe this is what you need, honey. You need to be manhandled, huh? I gotta slap that bratty attitude of yours outta your ass?” Bucky coos mockingly, dragging his blunt nails down the rapidly reddening skin.

You breathe shallowly, fuck it feels like you’re barely breathing as is. This is a side of Bucky you’d never dreamt of seeing, not even in your wildest dreams. He was always so stoic, quiet. It was like you were friends with a brick wall that used to be a sleeper agent. But this? Domineering, taunting, merciless Bucky? You were fucking drenched.

You hum in agreement, wiggling your ass back, too far gone now. Any sense of decorum or boundaries flies out of your little bird brain. All you know is Bucky’s punishing hand and his rock hard dick pressing against you.

He shifts, maneuvering your wrists to hold them firmly over your head with one large hand. He brings the other down on your backside in a series of sharp, biting slaps. A red handprint blooms across your skin, a brand. The pain gives way to a dizzying liquid heat that has you squirming and whining under him.

“Fuck, listen to you… making all those pretty little noises for me,” He pants, hips grinding slowly against the curve of your butt. Bucky was throbbing in his pants, achingly hard and straining angrily in the confines of his jeans, “Keep making those noises and I’ll bust in my fucking pants, honey.”

You can feel it now, how soaked you are. The cotton gusset of your panties clings to your puffy lips like a second skin. The evidence of your arousal is impossible to miss, the dark spot growing rapidly with each slap and taunting murmur. You rub your thighs together needfully, desperate for some kind of relief. Bucky’s gaze narrows in on your needy display, grinning wolfishly, “Fuck, honey, you’re absolutely soaked through,” His lips brush against your ear as he speaks, rolling his hips teasingly into your backside, “Is this what you need, doll? To be put in your place, spanked until you’re a needy, desperate little thing?”

Holding your wrists firmly above your head, his vibranium hand slides around your hip, fingertips brushing teasingly along the sticky fabric of your underwear. The material clings to your swollen, aching folds.

“You leaking just for me, honey?” Bucky murmurs, nipping at your ear. He brushes the edge of his nail across the swollen bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. It’s so light that you almost don’t feel it, but you do and you sob in relief at the slightest touch. Your legs tremble, threatening to give out under you.

Bucky continues his maddeningly light caresses, “So fucking wet and ready for me…”

He circles your clit with the pad of his thumb, cool vibranium meeting feverish, swollen flesh. It swells and throbs under his ministrations. His fingers continue their unhurried exploration of your pussy, a single digit circling your entrance. You feel it push in slowly, sinking in one knuckle at a time. Your pussy flutters and clenches around the invading pressure, eager to be filled.

“This is what you needed all along, isn’t it honey? To be touched like this, to have someone take control and make this needy cunt drip?” He slides a second finger knuckle-deep into your dripping hole, pumping them in and out of your clinging heat as his other hand delivers harsh, biting strikes to your backside, “That’s it, honey, fucking take it.”

The thought of Steve’s vanilla, lackluster lovemaking paled in comparison to the passionate, almost feral way Bucky was claiming your body now. And his dick wasn’t even out yet. He could feel every inch of your silken skin trembling and quaking with need, your breathy cries and whimpering music to his ears. The tender, almost gentlemanly approach Steve usually had taken with you had left you wanting, craving something far more intense and fulfilling.

Bucky eases his fingers out and peels your panties from your sticky cunt, shucking the fabric to bunch it around your knees with your sweatpants. He reaches out once more, his calloused palm cupping the warm, plush flesh of your ass. He could feel the heat radiating off your skin, could feel the way your muscles clenched and trembled beneath his touch. His fingers sank into the giving flesh, squeezing.

“If you don’t fuck me right now, I think I’ll die,” You whisper, needy with shame burning your cheeks. And in that moment, it may as well have been true. To drive the point home, you wriggle your ass back against his groin, a clear invitation.

Bucky groaned, the sound torn from deep in his chest. His cock throbs and jumps at your needy words, desperate to be balls deep in your tight cunt. Faintly, he realizes he should hesitate, take a moment to think this through. But the way you presented yourself so wantonly to him made every logical thought fly out the window. He couldn’t resist, not you, not like this.

His hands flew to his belt, working it open with shaking hands. He quickly shoved his boxers and jeans down his thighs, freeing his aching cock. It sprang up, long, thick, and flushed a deep, angry red. The swollen head was leaking pre-cum, a bead of moisture rolling down the shaft. He wrapped a hand around it, stroking himself a few times, before shifting closer to you. Bucky sweeps the tip of his cock through your folds, from hole to clit, coating himself in your sticky slickness.

You gape at his dick, eyes wide as you peer over your shoulder. He’s fucking huge, because of course he is. Thick and girthy, this is going to hurt, you realize. And though that should deter you, or at the very least make you anxious, it only makes you wetter.

“Fuck,” You whisper, struggling to form a coherent thought, “You’re fucking huge. That’s… that can’t fit. It’s physically impossible.”

The bastard smirks, rubbing the small of your back, “Oh, it’ll fit, honey. I’ll make sure of that.”

You already feel your inner muscles tensing up, trying to force out something that isn’t even breaching you yet. A high-pitched keening noise rips from your throat as the bulbous tip sinks into your wet heat.

Bucky shudders as he feels your tight little cunt clenching and fluttering around just the swollen head of his cock. Fuck, you were so goddamn small, so fucking tight. He could feel every inch of your silky walls squeezing him, trying to push his thick tip out of your needy hole. It took every ounce of control not to just slam forward and bury himself to the hilt in your scorching heat.

He grit his teeth, his breath coming out in a low growl as he forced himself to hold still, to wait for your okay before he fucked into you. His hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises, holding you in place as he fought for some semblance of restraint. Where was all that goddamn self-discipline that HYDRA beat into him? His dick was barely inside you and he was already a slave to your nubile body.

He rocked his hips slightly, just barely, letting you feel the thick, spongy head of his cock kiss your entrance with each shallow thrust. “Tell me to move, honey.” Bucky pants, sounding utterly wrecked, “Let me move.”

All you can offer is a small, pathetic whine in response.

That’s all the confirmation Bucky needs. He starts to move then, his hips rocking in shallow little thrusts as he eases inch after inch of his monstrous dick inside you. His grip tightens on your hips, digging into the plush flesh of your ass as he keeps you in place for each teasing thrust of his cock.

“God, honey, I’m gonna fuck this needy hole just like you want,” He growls, sweat beading on his forehead from the effort of holding back, “Gonna rub this thick fucking tip all over this slutty pussy until you’re dripping and begging for my cock. Fuck… you’re so goddamn tight. Squeezing my cock so fucking hard.”

“W-we shouldn’t be doing this,” You gasp, screwing your eyes shut against the onslaught of sensations. You’re already feeling overstimulated, too warm and too full. Part of you screams to crawl away from the excruciating sensation of being impaled on such a thick cock. You try your best to breathe through it, willing your body to relax. Your cunt weeps, rivulets of slick dripping down and around Bucky’s dick. You feel the little droplets running down your thighs, mixing with your sweat.

Bucky hisses through clenched teeth as he feels your arousal dripping obscenely down his length, your thighs trembling. He loops an arm around your hips, holding you up as he watches the way his dick is swallowed up by your tight hole. He could see you struggling, hear the conflict in your whimper, the way you whispered this was wrong even as your body screamed for his touch. He knew he should listen to the voice in both your heads telling him to stop, to pull away before they crossed a line from which there could be no return… but fuck, he was so goddamn close to the edge already.

His hips rocked faster, fucking his cock in and out of your clutching heat with rough, rapid thrusts. A wet, obscene symphony of squelching and skin slapping against skin fills the room, mixing with his labored breathing and low, strained grunts of pleasure.

“We… fuck.. We shouldn’t…” He repeated your words dumbly, but even as he said it, his cock kept moving. You could feel the tip kissing your cervix with each throbbing, leaking thrust. “But fuck, honey, you feel too good… too goddamn good. We can’t stop now,” Bucky leans forward, pressing his chest against your back, his lips brushing down the side of your neck, “Fuck, gonna make this pretty cunt mine. Fill it up real good, honey.”

“Oh, god,” You gasp, a fresh wave of arousal flooding through you at his words. Your toes curl, fingernails scraping across the floor, “I want that, please. Wreck me.”

The desperate, pleading tone of your voice shatters the remnants of Bucky’s already frayed control. His eyes roll back at your words, groaning. He feels your velvet walls clench and ripple around his throbbing dick, grasping him like a hot fist. Without warning, his hand slides from your hip to your dripping sex, rough fingers finding your swollen, aching clit.

He teases the sensitive bundle of nerves, rubbing tight circles around it with the pad of his thumb as he fucks into you hard and fast. His hips rock faster in tandem with the finger on your clit, each thrust pushing a gush of your juices around his cock and down your thighs.

You feel like you’re on fire, every nerve alight and singing Bucky’s name. You bite down on your fist, attempting to hold back the shrieks of pleasure bubbling up in your chest, “Right there, god, please!” You squeal, trembling with the burning need to cum, “God, don’t stop. Please don’t fucking stop, right there.”

Your whiny, wanton moans bring Bucky’s climax hurtling at him like a freight train. He ducks his head down, sinking his teeth into the meat of your shoulder and shudders. The feeling of your slick little cunt gripping his dick was maddening, and the needy, desperate sounds spilling from your lips were pushing him closer to the edge, “Fuck, honey. Just like that, keep screaming for me. Gonna blow my load in this hot little cunt.”

You whine in response, Bucky’s rough treatment of your clit sending you careening over the edge. Your cunt clamps down violently, slick release gushing out of your hole. Lips parting in a silent scream, you shudder, shattering beneath him. Bucky lets out a guttural moan, his voice raw with pleasure as you cum hard on his cock. A puddle of sticky wetness forms between your legs on the floor, dripping down the fat of your thighs. Bucky can feel his own orgasm building fast and hard, his shaft throbbing and pulsing as he caresses your clit through your aftershocks.

“Yes, fuck! That’s it, honey. Soak me, pretty girl, gonna- fuck!” He grunts, his hips slamming forward and burying his thick cock to the hilt in your spasming pussy with one hard thrust. He groans long and low as your sex milks him for all he’s worth, his hot seed flooding your insides.

Bucky shudders, hips jerking as he empties his heavy balls inside you, thick ropes of pearlescent cum coating your fluttering walls. He presses his hips tight to your ass, grinding against you. That’s enough for your legs to quit on you. His eyes widen as your legs tremble and then give out, your body going boneless and pliant in his arms. He tightens his grip on your hips, hauling you back up onto your knees. Bucky’s heart races, a wild bird in his ribcage, as he struggles to catch his breath in the aftermath of his intense orgasm.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, he eases his softening cock out of your well-used hole. A river of his thick cum oozes out after him, dripping down your inner thighs, joining the puddle of slick on the floor. Bucky can’t help but feel satisfaction at how fucked-out you look, sporting his bite mark on your shoulder. His hands slide around to cup the soft swell of your belly, his palms splayed across the gentle curve. He could feel the heat of your skin, the way it flushed and erupted in little goosebumps from his touch. His gaze heavy-lidded, dark with lingering lust as he murmurs in your ear, “We can’t do this again, right honey?”

#fanfic #fanfiction #marvel #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #marvel fanfiction #mcu #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #callie's masterlist

808 notes · View notes

pretentious-blonde · 5 months ago

Text

new neighbour

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: steve is down because of his dating life, or lack thereof. that is until the new girl captures his attention

warnings: literally none, nervous and sweet steve!!

a/n: i have been gone for 3 months but uni has finally settled down!

series masterlist

A steady stream of gray light filtered through the wide front windows of Family Video, illuminating the rows upon rows of VHS cases. The day was uncharacteristically slow, the kind of weekday lull that left the store feeling hollow and cavernous. Steve Harrington stood behind the counter, leaning his elbows on the chipped laminate surface, tapping his fingers in a pattern he’d repeated so many times in an attempt to give him something to focus on.

His eyes hurt under the fluorescents, and though he tried to keep a casual expression, anyone who looked long enough could see the small, flickering signs of boredom crossing his features. On the other side of the store, Robin roamed the aisles, a small stack of VHS tapes in her hands, placing each one in its rightful place on the shelf. Every so often, she’d glance toward Steve, as if expecting some lively remark, but he remained lost in his thoughts.

“Hey,” Robin called, sliding a Night of the Comet tape onto the appropriate rack. “So… Vicky and I were talking the other night, and we thought, maybe this weekend…” She paused, drifting closer to the register so her voice wouldn’t echo.

Steve raised an eyebrow, still drumming his fingers on the counter. “Yeah, maybe what?”

Robin placed the last tape in her stack onto the shelf with a gentle thud. “Well, we’re making dinner. A real dinner—you know, in an actual kitchen, with actual groceries. Vicky wants me to learn her mom’s lasagna recipe. The whole shebang.” Her bright eyes searched his face. “Why don’t you come over? Eat with us?”

To anyone else, that might sound like a friendly suggestion. But there was a flicker in Robin’s eyes that Steve knew well: an undercurrent of pity. After all, he’d gone on a date last weekend that hadn’t exactly gone well. He was used to being the one with endless charm, the guy who always had a witty quip or a warm smile to keep a conversation going. Yet none of that had worked on Tanya—no matter how hard he tried. God was he trying.

Steve sighed, pushing himself upright.

“Yeah… no.”

Robin visibly balked, confusion knitting her brows. “What do you mean, ‘yeah… no’? You can’t just respond to an invitation like that.”

“Exactly how I just did,” he said, mouth tilting into a faint, lopsided grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thanks for the invite, but I’m not interrupting your date night just because you feel bad for me. I know you guys are trying to, like, throw me a bone or whatever.”

Robin’s cheeks puffed out in a mock sigh. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She turned away, pretending to occupy herself by adjusting a crooked VHS case. The slight shift in her voice told him otherwise. She always was a terrible liar.

He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You know what I’m talking about.” He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, though the memory of last weekend pricked at him more than he liked to admit.

Tanya had been gorgeous—dark hair, lovely eyes, a laugh that could probably stop traffic. At first glance, she was the perfect fit. But after an hour of him asking question after question and receiving nothing but uninterested one-word answers, he’d realised that appearances weren't enough to carry a conversation. The spark was missing, that intangible something that made him want to stay, to laugh, to learn more. It just wasn’t there. He was beginning to think it never would be, at least for him.

Robin finally turned back. “Okay, so maybe I know you’ve been bummed. But it’s not pity, Steve.” She rolled her eyes. “Vicky genuinely likes you. We both do.”

“Sure,” Steve said, gently drumming his fingers again. “Vicky likes me enough to let me crash her romantic, candle-lit dinner with her girlfriend.” He narrowed his eyes playfully. “Yeah, that’s not weird at all.”

Robin shot him a look. “It’s not weird if we invite you. And besides, it’s not like this is going to be some super fancy dinner. There might be candles, but that’s only so I can see the food properly, okay?”

Steve snorted, though the weight in his chest didn’t quite lift. “Look, Rob, I appreciate it,” he said, voice softening. “I do. But I’m not sure I’m up for third-wheeling on a Saturday night. I think it’s safer for everyone if I steer clear, especially given your experimental cooking.”

She pressed her lips together, fighting a smile. “Wow, way to appreciate me trying to feed you.” Though she spoke jokingly, she studied his face for signs of deeper sadness.

He was Steve Harrington—he was supposed to be the one with the perpetual easy grin. But ever since his dating and social life had crashed and burned, Robin could see the twinge of hurt in his eyes. He was insecure. He liked to feel needed, he always had. He had no problem giving himself to others. So watching everyone else find their person only made him more self-conscious. The truth was nobody needed him, and that knowledge was slowly eating away at him.

“You know,” Robin added, resting her hands on the cart that held a few more tapes, “it’s not just about the date. I get it—you’re lonely. It’s okay to admit that. We’ve all been there.”

He opened his mouth, his gaze slipping away to look out the window at a slow-moving car. The driver was just a blur behind the glass, but it gave him something to focus on. Because she was right. He was lonely, and part of him wanted to accept Robin’s invitation so badly. The other part of him couldn’t bear to insert himself as a third wheel—he knew that feeling too well. He’d spent years longing for something real, something effortlessly mutual. Maybe he’d find it eventually, but not if he was hanging around a couple who only extended the invite out of sympathy.

“Okay,” Robin said, exhaling the tension that had built up between them. “If you change your mind, call me. Seriously, no guilt trip, no questions asked. Vicky won’t mind. We’ll have a plate ready.”

A genuine smile tugged at the corners of Steve’s mouth. It still looked like it held a bit of sadness but he covered it up to not upset her further. “Yeah. Thanks, Rob. I promise, if I get the sudden urge for a crisp lasagna—”

“Hey!”

He grinned for real this time. “—I’ll give you a call. Right now, though, I think I’m just gonna stick to renting a movie and ordering takeout. Maybe keep my Saturday night simple.”

Robin nodded, accepting his declination. Her gaze lingered, and she wanted to push harder, but she knew Steve well enough to sense that pushing too much would only drive him further into his own shell. “Alright,” she said softly, reaching out to pat his arm. “You know where to find me if you need to talk.”

“I know. And thanks.” He meant it.

Their eyes met before Robin moved off to shelve the remaining tapes. He watched her go, then slowly leaned forward on the counter again. Outside, the sun was getting a little brighter, illuminating the Family Video sign and casting reflections across the empty parking lot. He was trying to think about whatever movie he would undoubtedly be bringing home with him for the weekend, alone. That is, until he sees you.

You’re walking at an unhurried pace, shoulders slightly hunched against the cool breeze, but there’s something about you that holds his attention. The way your outfit matches in a way that feels effortless but intentional, the way your hair catches the light, styled just enough to suggest effort but not so much that it seems like you’re trying too hard.

You push open the glass door, and the bell above gives a soft jingle that seems to echo in the stillness. The warmth of the store envelops you, a cozy contrast to the lingering chill outside. Rows of tapes tower around you, aisles lit by bulbs that buzz quietly in the background. It all feels a bit nostalgic, not too intimidating.

Behind the front counter, Steve stands with his elbows braced on the worn surface. For a second, it looks like you’ve interrupted him mid-daydream—his brown eyes are distant. The moment you step inside, he blinks, and you can practically see the switch flip as you catch him. Suddenly, he’s all awareness, standing straighter, swallowing once. A faint flush colours the tips of his ears, though he tries to hide it by running a hand through his hair.

He looks at you in a way that he hopes is welcoming, he’s not sure if he should say something immediately or give you space to browse. There is a gentle lift of his shoulders as he inhales, working up the courage to speak. You offer a polite nod and slide toward the nearest aisle before he can get a word out.

He exhales a shaky breath he didn’t realise he was holding, mind racing as he tries to place you. He can’t recall seeing you here before, and he was certain he would remember if you had. He drags his fingers over the keyboard, tapping random keys to pretend he’s busy. In truth, all he wants is to keep glancing your way. It was maddening forcing his attention to the computer screen.

You wander among the rows, taking in the titles. There’s something oddly comforting about the smell of plastic VHS covers. Occasionally, you catch sight of Steve peeking over from the desk, just for a moment, before he ducks back down to avoid being caught staring. You find yourself smiling at his obvious attempt to be casual.

He, meanwhile, is silently scolding himself. He knew he was being weird—God, he needs to get a grip. But there’s a traitorous part of him that can’t help noticing the delicate way your hair frames your face, or the look of your jacket—well worn, well loved, taken care of. Even though your aura was disarming, he felt like he was in high school all over again, unable to stop staring at the pretty girl in the corridor.

Eventually, you settle on a tape, The Empire Strikes Back—something classic you’ve been meaning to watch again. Taking a steadying breath, you head to the counter, the plastic case clutched in your hand. As you approach, he forces himself to appear relaxed, collected, though inside he’s buzzing with anticipation.

“Um, hey… Steve,” you look up from his name tag, placing the tape before him. His eyes dart down to the cover, then back up to you. “Do you work here?”

The moment you say it, you realise how silly it sounds—he’s in the company vest, with a company name tag on it. Heat flares across your cheeks.

A laugh bubbles out of him—warm, kind. He shakes his head gently as if to say, Don’t worry about it.

“Yeah, I do.”

You nod, cheeks still burning from your awkward question. “Yes. Sorry, I, uh… obviously you work here.”

“Nah, no problem. I’ve gotten weirder questions,” his smile widens, softening around the edges. You’re cute when you’re embarrassed. “Good pick, by the way.”

As he scans the tape, you notice the slight tremor in his hand. It’s barely there, but you sense the sweet, nervous energy radiating from him. His gaze flickers to you, then back to the screen, then to you again—like he can’t quite decide which deserves his attention more. You, probably.

“So, um,” he starts, clearing his throat, “I haven’t seen you around before. Are you… new in town?” He tries to sound casual, but a hopeful note creeps into his voice, as though he’s crossing his fingers for you to keep talking.

You brighten at the question, happy to have something normal to say. “I am, actually. I just moved here a few days ago. The apartment is literally right across the street—well, I think you can see it from the window.”

His eyes widened with interest and with the knowledge of your close proximity.

“Yeah? Pretty convenient if you want a movie.” And maybe to see me, he almost adds. “So, when exactly did you move in?”

“Three days ago,” you reply, letting out a breathy exhale at the memory. “I’ve been knee-deep in boxes ever since. I finally decided I deserved a break, and what better way than a movie night to make the new place feel more like home, right?”

He nods fervently, excitement sparking behind his eyes. “That’s true. Shame I wasn��t working that day—maybe I could’ve, I don’t know… helped haul a box or two?” He offers a tiny shrug, his words stumbling a bit as he realises how forward that might sound. “I mean, not that I… I just… you know,” he begins to backtrack.

A warm giggle escapes you. “I appreciate the thought. My arms hurt for, like, the whole day afterwards.”

He huffs a little chuckle, feeling relief wash over him when you don’t seem put off. “Exactly.”

He glances around the store for Robin knowing she’s probably lurking somewhere, listening in with a sly grin. But in this moment, he can’t bring himself to care too much; he wants you to have his full attention.

“If you don’t have a membership yet,” he says, fishing around under the counter for a form, “you’ll need to fill this out.” He slides a paper and pen toward you.

“Right, I’m totally new,” you reply, stepping closer to read the sheet. As you lean in, Steve notices the light scent of your shampoo—or maybe your perfume—and it makes his pulse skip. He’s had customers before, obviously, but none have made him feel this flustered. It wasn't a feeling he necessarily disliked.

Fighting the urge to stare too obviously, he busies himself with looking at the returns papers, occasionally sneaking a glance your way. He notices the way your brow furrows as you fill in the different boxes, huffing to yourself when you wrote your previous address, crossing it out and starting again. It was so human, so endearing, he had to turn away fully or his amused smile would give him away.

Once you’ve filled out the form, you pass it back. He types in your details, the corners of his mouth quirking up as he commits your name to memory. “Perfect,” he tells you, printing out a fresh membership card and sliding it across the counter.

“Thanks,” you say, tucking it into your wallet. “Feels official now.”

He can’t help but feel upset that this moment is slipping away—any second, you’ll thank him, smile, and leave. Then he’ll be stuck behind the counter once again, replaying this conversation over and over until you come to return it, which could be a week from now. That would be unacceptable.

He clears his throat. “Uh, so,” he begins, voice wavering ever so slightly. “You got any big plans this weekend? Since you’re, you know, new here.” You could tell he was aiming for confident, but that casual tone of his falters as he seems genuinely invested in your response.

His smile drops as he hears your reply. “Actually, yeah, I do,” his heart sinks, mind already going into overdrive.

You’re probably telling him politely to let him down. He knew he was being too brazen, but he couldn’t stop the embarrassment from settling in his chest.

“I need to head into town and get some furniture,” you explain as his head looks up, stopping him from spiralling. “I heard there’s a store a few miles away?”

He smiles at the fact that you’re still talking and didn’t just shut him down, you’re just busy—and that’s okay.

“Oh, yeah,” he nods eagerly. “There is, um, it’s about a ten-minute drive, tops. Depends on traffic, I guess, but Hawkins isn’t exactly wild.” He lets out a weak laugh. “What are you, uh, looking for?”

“Mostly a bookshelf. I thought I could just stack my books, but they’re already in danger of tumbling over.”

He is listening, but a large part of him is cursing how little attention he paid in English class. Wishing he could humour you more.

“That’s cool,” he says safely. “So, you’re a big reader?”

You nod, eyes lighting up. “Oh absolutely, I love getting lost in a story.”

He can’t help but think how sweet you are, the warmth in your expression filling his stomach, urging him past his nerves to finally ask what he had been wanting to.

“Well, if you need help lugging that thing up the stairs to your apartment, I’m, uh… not working this weekend.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, he realises that, once again, it may have been too forward.

“Really?” You ask, face brightening before he had the chance to overthink. “That’d be great! I was kind of worried about getting it back here on my own.”

His heart does that little flip at your acceptance of his offer. He nods enthusiastically, a few rogue hairs settling on his forehead, making his appearance more boyish.

“It’s no problem,” he tells you as he puts his hands in his pockets, trying to appear relaxed as if this wasn’t the most exciting opportunity to happen to him all year. “I’ve got a car that’s… well, it’s big enough. Definitely more roomy than your average trunk. If yours can’t handle the bookshelf, mine can.”

You break into a grateful grin. “Wow, that’s really nice of you. Seriously.”

A blush creeps across his cheeks at your kind words, his face turning bashful. “Honestly, it’s no big deal at all.”

It really wasn't, if all it takes is transporting some furniture to spend more time with you, he would gladly do it.

You lift your shoulders in a shrug, feeling slightly indebted. “Well, at least let me get you a coffee or something afterwards, to say thanks. I insist.”

“No, that’s—” He starts to protest, but the look on your face tells him you’re determined. It’s kind of adorable how your eyebrows pinch together.

“I insist,” you repeat, a little more firmly, and he laughs quietly.

So you're stubborn, he can work with that.

“Alright,” he concedes, holding up his hands in surrender. “Coffee it is. How about…” Think, Steve, think. “Saturday morning, I can meet you out front, say, 10:30? Unless that’s too early?”

In truth, he’d be ready at sunrise if it meant spending more time with you, but he doesn't want to sound desperate.

“That’s perfect,” you say, beaming as you pick up your rented tape. “Thank you again, Steve.”

“Sure,” he replied, feeling a grin stretch across his face, so genuine it almost hurts his cheeks. He is shocked at how he managed to do this. How—by some miracle—you of all people had moved across the street.

You give a small wave, and the door shuts behind you, the bell chiming one last time. His heart is still hammering away as he stares at the closed door, trying to process that he just—did that. He just set up what is basically a date… or at least a coffee situation. Either way, it’s something.

In the sudden quiet, he hears a muffled sound from behind him, and when he spins around, there’s Robin standing in the break room doorway. She’s practically bouncing on her heels, eyes wide with excitement.

“Oh, my God,” she says, not even bothering to hide the grin overtaking her face. “Was that—did you just—”

“Yeah, yeah,” he cuts her off, rolling his eyes even though he can’t keep the giddy smile off his own lips. “Shut up, Robin.”

She doesn’t shut up, but he doesn't mind. All he can think about is Saturday morning, and the way your face lit up when he offered to help you, and how maybe this is going to be the start of something really, really good.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington headcanon

564 notes · View notes

amandabbbbb · 11 months ago

Text

summary: after the scene where ward drops rafe at barry’s and tells him to not come home but barry’s sister pogue!reader tries to comfort him even though rafe is soo mean to her like woah but it’s a happy ending

tw: mention of drugs, idk rafe cries a lot, parental issues, rafe calls reader kid and bitch once

word count: 762

“don’t come home, son,” ward says, his voice cold and final, as he walks away from his only son.

“where do you want me to go?”

“dad! dad!” rafe’s desperate calls echo into the night, but ward doesn’t look back, leaving rafe alone in the darkness in front of barry’s and your house.

“hey, barry, open the fuckin door! i know you got the coke, dude, come on. please just open up!” he’s begging on the verge of tears. “barry, if you don’t open this god damn door, i’ll fucking smash it down myself. i need coke, man!”

you slowly open the door, and before he even sees you, rafe shoves his way inside, causing you to stumble back slightly. he collapses onto the couch, his movements frantic and erratic. “barry, what took you so long? christ, give me your best coke. i need that shit now, dude” he demands, his voice thick with barely-contained emotion. when he finally looks up and sees you instead of barry, he quickly swipes at the tears streaming down his face, trying to hide his vulnerability.

“oh, hi, rafe! sorry, i had my headphones on. wanna listen? oh my god, are you crying?” you ask, your voice laced with genuine concern.

“no, jesus fuck, y/n, where’s your brother?”

“oh, um, i think he’s down by the shipyards doing a deal. sorry, rafey,” you say, offering a gentle smile.

rafe pulls himself up quickly, furiously searching for the drugs he so desperately craves. “where’s his coke? i know you know where he keeps it. go find it. don’t just stand there helplessly. you’re so goddamn stupid! fuck!”

“why are you being mean to me? you’re never mean to me… i don’t know where barry keeps the coke, rafe.”

he yells at the top of his lungs, “it’s like you have no fuckin brain. you’re just a useless dumb blonde.” (sorry i’m blonde)

the harsh words cut through you, and you can’t bear his anger. you turn and flee to your room, tears pricking your waterline, blurring your vision as you go.

your whole teenage years, you knew rafe as your older brother’s richest client, who he secretly would rip off. but as the years went by, he started buying barry’s more hardcore drugs, not just weed. you got to know rafe more as barry’s regular client. he would constantly stick around, always flirting with you and bringing you gifts when barry wasn’t looking.

“y/n, don’t shut me out. don’t be a bitch, come on, open the door. i need the coke. you don’t understand, help me here, okay,” he pleads.

you’re scared. you’ve never seen him like this; he’s always treated you like a princess. you yell as he bangs at your thin bedroom door, pushing the wood so hard it starts to crack. “go home, rafe!” your voice shaky and filled with fear.

the banging stops suddenly, your words echoing in the sudden silence. the quiet stretches on, each second feeling like an eternity. cautiously, you peek out of your bedroom door thinking maybe he finally listened to your advice. “rafe, you there?” you call out.

he’s sitting on your couch, tears running down his face, hyperventilating. “i can’t go home. i’m a liar, an addict, a thief, and i can’t be trusted, so my dad said he can’t have me in his house. i have nowhere to go.”

you slowly approach the couch where rafe sits, his face hidden in his hands. his body is shaking, and the room is filled with the sound of his ragged breaths. “rafe…” you say softly, your voice trembling as you try to offer some comfort. “you, um, can stay here tonight.”

he looks up at you, his eyes red and desperate, filled with a depth of pain you’ve never seen in him before. “i don’t deserve you, kid. fuck, i’m so sorry. i never wanted you to see me like this. i thought i had everything under control, but now you probably hate me or some shit…”

you sit beside him, offering a soft, reassuring smile. you put your hand in his. “it’s okay rafey. i could never hate you. we all have moments when shit falls apart. it doesn’t change how i see you. you’re tired. i’ll set up the couch for you.”

rafe’s eyes search yours, a flicker of regret softening his expression. “i didn’t mean to take it out on you,” he says, his voice low and raw. “i just… i don’t want to be alone. y’know, on the couch. not tonight.” the words hang in the air, heavy with his unspoken need to hold you tonight.

2K notes · View notes

user500269 · 1 year ago

Text

switch! doppelgänger francis mosses x dom! gn! reader x sub! francis mosses

summary: double-teaming the real francis with doppel! francis

wc: 1.4k

content warning: nsfw, cock can be viewed as a strap, nipple play (personal fave), throat-fucking, blow jobs, hand jobs, dirty talk, doppel francis is referred to as doppel, wrist burns, tied up francis

author’s note: hellooooo my lovelies !! here is the long awaited fanfic that will hopefully satiate everyone’s preferences from the francis mosses poll yesterday (so i'm a pathalogical liar bc the way this was just sub! francis...) i plan to write many, many more sub! francis content because i cannot imagine him any other way. hope you guys enjoy this :) not proofread, minors please dni !!

“hhGHK-”

“can’t hear you that well down there, francie. speak up f’me?” you smile devlishly, tilting your head to look down at your crotch. francis knelt there with brusied knees, sucking your cock, stroking what he couldn’t fit with two hands.

another francis emerged from behind you, chuckling at his dupilcate’s pitiful state. “is that what the francis of this world is really like? a milk delivery man during the day, then a pathetic little whore who chokes on cocks back at home?” he scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“c’mon, use me too. i would never whine like this while suckin’ on that…” his fingers trailed down your v-line to the base of your cock. “i’m different from this loser…” he pouted, placing his chin on your shoulder, giving you a pleading look.

“m-mmnMPFH, g-GHK!” francis moaned, the vibrations shooting through your cock. he was whiny, but that’s what turned you on the most about your desperate little boyfriend.

you chuckled, gripping at his hair to make him look up at you. “don’t forget to look at me while i fuck your throat, francy,” you instructed as he nodded as best as he could with tears pricking his eyes. the look he gave you was so priceless, his mouth stuff full with your fat cock and drool dripping down his chin.

“yeah, but my dirty boy takes my cock the best,” you praised, making doppel frown. you thrusted your cock deep into francis’ throat, hitting the back of his throat every time you made even the slightest movement.

his eyes rolled back at the thickness and length of your cock, as he exhaled through his nose heavily. he felt his hands drifting down to his bulge, humping the carpet underneath.

you noticed, finally knowing what to do with doppel. “actually, i need you to take care of my needy little boy down there…” you shot francis a glare, shaking your head in disappointment. he whimpered at the action, his eyes widening with tears immediately streaming down his cheeks.

you pulled him off your cock, his saliva connecting to the tip. “haagnh…” he mewled out, his tongue still stuck out, waiting for a sweet treat. “c-cum on my tongue, please…” he begged, placing the tip of your cock on his tongue.

“such a needy boy. always wanting more than what you’re given, huh?” you tutted, grabbing your middle of your cock to tap it roughly on his tongue. he could only moan, feeling his hips shake in anticipating.

“that’s why i have him. to help me discipline you,” you pulled at doppel’s bow to tug him closer, untying it in the process. “c’mere francie. up on my lap,” you patted your lap, holding a hand out for him to get up.

he followed suit, stumbling over his feet a bit, but ultimately sitting on your lap with his back pressed against your chest. his cock was aching in his stupidly tight pants, begging to be let free. his face flushed at the sight of a very different, yet similar version of himself in front of him.

“doppel, c’mere sit on francie’s thigh,” you motioned him over, straightface. you, on the otherhand, begun to tie francis’ wrists above his head with the tie you had previously acquired. doppel obediently followed your instructions, sitting on one of francis’ spread thighs.

“w-what’re we doing?” francis stuttered, feeling exposed despite being fully clothed.

your arms looped around his body, rubbing his nipples through the fabric of his shirt. he jolted. “just punishing you,” you smiled, giving doppel a look. he quickly caught on, unzipping francis’ pants, palming him through his underwear.

your pointer finger tickled at his sensitive nub, while the other hand pinched at his already hardened nipple. francis’ weak spot was his nipples. the way he reacted when you even grazed his nipples made you want to bend him over a bucket and squeeze them until milk came out.

“o-oooH! hnnghh…w-why through my s-shirt?” he whimpered, jutting out his wet lower lip.

you gave him no response, flicking at his buds with your nails, making his arch his back. “gHK! y-you’re too, mnGHHK, rough!” he exclaimed, his brows furrowing. you loved to twist and tug at his nipples.

it was his fault for wearing such a tight uniform shirt. he was just asking to have you toy with his neglected buds that always poked out from the slightly nudge from the shirt fabric. your hands grope his chest, fingers rubbing over them quickly.

doppel wasn’t neglecting francis’ cock either. he was playing lazily with the wet spot on francis’ underwear that leaked pre-cum. it stuck to his pointer finger when he dragged it away, making doppel chuckle at his copy’s sensitivity.

“feel good, francie? squirmin’ so much, hm?” you placed your chin on his shoulder, watching the way his lips shaped into an “o”, mewling at the way you played with his perky nipples. you’d tug on one, flicking the other one quickly.

“g-good, HNGH, o-oghhh...s-so gnhh…” he could barely get a word out, lewd noises just falling out of his lips. you stopped teasing his nipples before slowly unbuttoning his uniform shirt.

doppel wasn’t taking francis seriously, stroking at a pace he thought was slow, but inhumanely too quick for francis. “human dicks are so small. you pleasing anyone with this tiny little guy, huh?” he teased, making eye contact with francis. “oh look, more pre-cum spilled out!”

francis felt how wet his cock was getting, covered in dopel’s spit and his own pre-cum. when he thought he only had to focus on doppel, your hands came back to grope at his chest. you could now visibly see the pink plushness of his nipples.

“looks like something might come out if i squeeze hard enough, right francie?” you whispered in his ear, rolling your fingers around the bud.

“same thing on my end,” doppel chimed in, rubbing his thumb over francis’ slit.

francis shivered at the thought, feeling his high come at lightning speed. the way the tips of your fingers would flick at his nipples combined with doppel’s inhumane strokes made the poor boy explode.

“ooonghhh, ‘m c-cumming soon, mmngh! HGK! c-cumming!” he bursted into doppel’s palm, collapsing into your arms. your movement slowed slightly, but you continued to flick at the tips of his nipples.

doppel took note of this, playing with the slit of his dick, playing with the foreskin. “human stamina is so pathetic. surely you’re not done now?” doppel leaned down, lapping francis’ cum with his monstrous cum.

“UGHK? i-i jus’, hic, came…hnnn…” he cried, tears streaming down his cheeks, feeling his aching tip burn. regardless of his pleads, he still rutting his cock into doppel’s mouth for additional friction.

“show me what your pretty chest looks like now, francie,” you ordered, as he puffed out his chest for you to see properly over his chest. you hummed deciding to untie him so he could give you a real show.

his wrists were red from shaking against the restraints so you pressed chaste kisses against the burns. “that’s not how you show me, is it?” he shook his head, shaking from the way doppel was sucking his dick.

francis’ fingers stretched the skin around his nipples, properly showing you the puffiness of his teased buds. he looked up at you with his fingers strewn across his chest with a teary-eyed expression.

“such a perfect boy f’me,” you praised, ruffling his locks. “so good that you can take another hour of teasing before taking my cock, right?” you grinned, your hands finding their rightful spot on his chest.

‘e-EUGH! yesyesyes…i can take it, hngh!” he nodded furiously, his hips shaking like a dog in heat.

“good boy,” you nodded, sticking your fingers into his already open mouth. you and doppel had a long night ahead of you.

taglist: @lordragamuffin

#francis mosses #francis mosses x reader #sub francis mosses #x reader #that's not my neighbour #ncrescent

2K notes · View notes

burningembers91 · 6 months ago

Text

Back Alley Bar - Seong Gi-Hun x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Seong Gi-Hun has given up on life, given up on himself. But for some reason, the pretty girl who serves him drinks still thinks he can be saved.

Seong Gi-Hun was a typical example of “like father, like son.” He was unreliable, he was selfish, he was sneaky and a liar. He was the spitting image of his father, and his father before him; a complete and utter lowlife. His marriage had crumbled, his wife and daughter had left him to start a new life in America, and his mother was recently deceased. She’d passed away on the floor of their living room while Gi-Hun gambled away the money he could have used to save her life.

He didn’t deserve to live, didn’t deserve to still be breathing when his mother wasn’t. She had given everything to her son, forgiven him time and time again. She had been the epitome of patient, always giving him another chance to redeem himself. Gi-Hun didn’t deserve redemption, and while he waited for the devil to collect his dues, he would slowly drink himself into the abyss.

That was where he’d met you, in some dive bar in a back alley, slumped over the bar with a whiskey in his hand. You were there working part time, using the cash to pay for a university degree. Every shift you worked, Gi-Hun was there, drinking himself into a stupor. Most nights you’d call him a cab home, but some nights you’d drive him home yourself, idly making conversation as you drove through the dark Seoul streets. He rarely responded, but you never gave up. You’d seen more than your fair share of shit in your time as a bartender, but you’d never seen anyone as broken as Gi-Hun. Whatever had happened to him, it must have been bad. You weren’t even sure if he knew who you were; he was so drunk most of the time it was miracle he could remember anything about the previous night. But he knew who you were; you were one piece of light in his dark, dark world.

He knew you thought he wasn’t listening when you chatted to him in the car on the way home. But he remembered everything you said to him. How you were bartending on top of working full time as a teacher to save up to go back to university. How you’d just broken up with your boyfriend, but you didn’t really mind because he’d been a prick anyway. How your dream was to become a historian, but you were worried you were too old to change career.

“Why do you do this?” He mumbled one night, as you walked with him to your beaten up, rust bucket of a car.

“What do you mean?” You asked, throwing your bag into the back before climbing into the drivers side.

“Why do you help me? I’m no one. I don’t deserve your kindness.”

“You are not no one.” You turned to look at him in the passenger seat, resisting the urge to touch his cheek. This man was so broken, and you had no idea how to help him.

“I’ve done bad things,” he whispered, “I’ve hurt people. I’ve stolen, I’ve lied, I’ve cheated.”

You took a deep breath, staring out of the windscreen as rain began to fall, battering the concrete around you.

“It’s never too late to make a change,” you said, although you knew all too well how that was easier said than done.

Gi-Hun laughed bitterly. “Changing now won’t bring my mother back from the dead. It won’t bring my daughter back from America. It won’t make my wife come back to me.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you stayed silent. How did you help a man who was so broken, so beyond repair?

As you dropped him off outside his dilapidated apartment, you called to him through the sound of the pouring rain.

“I’m not giving up on you, Seong Gi-Hun!” You smiled at him, and even through his drunken haze he could tell what a beautiful smile it was. He would never understand why you helped him, would never understand why you’d decided he was worth saving. Everyone had given up on him, but for some reason you wouldn’t.

A woman like you didn’t need a man like him. You needed someone who could care for you, who wouldn’t leave you broken into pieces as he’d left everyone he’d cared about. But your words echoed in his head as he drifted off to sleep. “You’re not no one. It’s never too late to change.”

Maybe you were right; maybe there was still time to atone for his sins.

#squid game #squid game 2 #squid game x reader #squid game fanfic #squid game x you #seong gi hun #seong gi hun x reader #seong gi hun x you #squid game season 2

301 notes · View notes

cashmoneyyysstuff · 9 months ago

Note

can you do a bakugo x reader who’s afraid of the dark? i think he’d be cute about it and make small explosions kinda like fireworks to cheer them up

omg whats so funny about this is that this is a scenario that happens in my oc x canon verse actually omg !! this is such a cute ask, tysm anon ! fem reader (tho no gender specified) ages arent specified here but i imagined both katsuki n reader younger (11-12) !!

there's a sudden power outage during math class.

the mix of groans and immediate screams put you on edge, they make your heart beat and you wish you could tell them all to just shut up. but you're mouth isn't working, your throat is clogged up and you can't see anything.

you hate the dark. it's embarrassing to still be scared of it at your age, it's childish and you're not a little kid anymore. you're sure katsuki wasn't scared of the dark anymore. granted, he wasn't scared of anything.

you’d walked out of your classroom, trying to maybe find some type of light source outside of class, you doubted the teacher noticed you leaving with all the chaos brewing.

very bad idea, it was pitch black. probably even darker than in class somehow. you feel your heart beat quicken as your eyes slowly start stinging.

you won’t cry, that’s so lame.

you’re old enough to know that monsters don’t exist, you know nothing is going to come snatch you up to drag you off into the darkness never to be seen again. of course you know that.

but you’re still so scared, and the scenarios you’d just made up where making you even more nervous. your eyes sting and you know it’s lame, but you really feel like crying.

if you were going to cry, you at least wanted to make sure no one could see you doing it once the lights turned back on. you manage to find a broom closet in the darkness and decide to hole up in there. you shiver, tightly hugging your knees. you feel tears prick in your eyes. it’s lame, and you’re too old to be crying, but you figure no one will know anyway.

then the door slams open.

you gasp, but don’t dare look up and squeeze your eyes shut tightly. maybe a monster was here to take you, maybe it was one of your classmates and they were gonna tell everyone how uncool and lame you were for crying.

“what’re you doing in here ?! i was lookin’ all around for you !”

you look up then, and katsuki looks back at you angrily. you bite your lip, you didn’t want him of all people to see you like this, he’d for sure think it was lame. katsuki’s expression morphs from anger to surprise to confusion. he raises a brow.

“what’re you crying for ?” the tone of his voice makes you hide your face again, furiously wiping at your eyes. you can see how he looks at you from the lights coming from outside, it peeks through the opening of the door, and you think that’s worse than a monster coming to get you.

“i-i’m not !” you mumble, your voice crackles as you do. you hear katsuki huff and then the door slams. what you were afraid of came true, you think. he thought you were embarrassing and wouldn’t want to be your friend anymore—

warm, warm hands grip at your wrists and rip them away from your face so you can see—katsuki. he’s still here ?

“liar.” he says, eyebrows furrowed. “y’know i hate liars.” you do know, you don’t want katsuki to hate you, that’s why you’re in here. you blink at him in surprise. katsuki only squints at you, before plopping down next to you. it’s a very tight squeeze, but he nudges your shoulder to make space for himself and he makes it happen.

anything katsuki put his mind to was possible. if he wanted to sit next to you in this cramped broom closet he was going to, no matter what. you always found that cool about him.

“why’d you run off ? i was looking for you..” he asks.

“i thought you wouldn’t notice..” you respond meekly. katsuki looks back at you. your shoulder hurts a bit so you readjust and move back. you can see his incredulous expression even better.

“hah ? why wouldn’t i ?”

why wouldn’t he ? because you were lame ? because crying about the dark at your age was embarrassing ?

“cus..” you fiddle with your hands, you can’t finish your sentence. katsuki finishes it for you.

“what, cus you’re scared ?” the way he says it. scared. makes you want to deny it again. but you hate lying and katsuki hates liars. so you just shrug. it’s quiet again, you hear the tapping of branches against the window outside. rain tapping the window, and then a big crack of thunder. you jump a bit despite yourself.

“teach said the power won’t be back till this let’s up.” he explains. this meaning the storm, you assume. you don’t know what to say anymore, you’re glad katsuki can’t see you.

“s’fine y’know..” he utters after a bit. you look back at him in shock, blinking rapidly. your eyes have gotten used to the darkness and you can see how his eyes dart around. he settles on pulling at his shoe laces for a bit.

“but…” you start, your throat is still clogged up “you said you hated crybabies…an’ scaredy-cats..” katsuki scowls at your words, tugging and twirling at his laces.

“i do.” he confirms, then he glances at you. “but i know you’re not.”

oh. you can’t muster up anything. you know you should say something now, and you feel your cheeks warm at his words. but it’s still so dark.

katsuki sits quietly as he inspects you. then he gets in your space again. you whine in annoyance, he’ll squish your shoulder at this rate but he grumbles back, he’s made up his mind. and there was nothing you could do about it.

and you thought that was kinda cool.

he stretches his hand out in front of you both. “look,” is all he says. you do, and after a moment.

soft little "cracks !" and "pops !" fill your ears, they’re not from outside, but from his hand, small orange lights accompanying them. you can’t stop looking, in awe as he keeps going. you always thought katsuki’s quirk was cool, and how much he control he had over it. he’d be an awesome hero, you're sure. he made sure to tell the whole world he would be.

he insisted that you’d be his number one fan forever. you always jokingly tell him he’ll have to work for it. “watch me, then !” he’d smirk, he’d claim he’d be the strongest in the world and you’d have no choice but to beg for his autograph then. “in your dreams !” you’d quip, but it never discouraged him. you never told him you were already his biggest fan. that he was your best friend in the world, that you thought he was the coolest.

“cool..” you utter quietly.

you can hear him huff proudly next to you, then the sparks slowly stop. you turn to look back at katsuki. his face is slightly illuminated by the sparks he tries to stop, you think you see a bit of pink on his cheeks.

"who cares if you're scared..i'm here, so you don't gotta be anymore." katsuki shoves his shoulder against yours teasingly "so don't go runnin' off anymore, got it ?"

and you hope his eyes have adjusted too, so he can see you smile. you're still a little scared now that it's completely dark again. and you're still not fully convinced a monster won't pop out and try to eat the both of you. but you know katsuki isn't scared of anything, and if one does show up he'll blast it away.

and he'll light up the way for you, no matter how dark it gets.

644 notes · View notes

igotanidea · 6 months ago

Text

The talk : Dick Grayson X reader ( with Bruce Wayne)

A/n : it's a snippet, I might consider writing it fully

Warning: suggestive but not explicit

Summary: it's time for the bees and bird talk with Dick

***

Bruce walking in on a young adult! Dick and his girlfriend y/n getting cosy between the sheets.

Obviously, as a normally functioning adult and a father, even if just a foster one, the batman takes it upon himself to have a talk about bees and birds with his favourite son.

He got it all planned out, schemed, thought out to avoid surprises and misunderstandings.

He actually had the contingency plans from A to Z drafted for a while, only hoping that those would never come to use.

Unfortunately, seeing y/n, with her blouse undone, hair a mess and Dick's hands (and apparently more) on her, forces Bruce to retreat to hide the blush creeping on. The last piece of his dignity is gone and he is pretty sure there's no good way to recover from such a failure.

He had reached the ultimate botttom.

"Hey B, you good?" Hours later Dick found him in the batcave, engrossed in some feigned, quickly fixed work. It was too easy to figure he would hide there to avoid seeing or - god forbid - hear anything.

"Hm."

"You wanted to talk to me about something, didn't you?" He grinned, delighting in a way Bruce seemed to develop an eye twich.

"Hm".

"Great. I got some time before I get back to y/n, so?"

"Get back?" Bruce turned to face his son and immediately regretted it. He seriously wished to erase the sight of lipstick and love bites on his neck.

"Something wrong?" Once more dick flashed a smile, trying to force a reaction out of Bruce.

"hm."

"we're being safe"

"Amazing"

"and she's okay with it"

"Great"

"And I've studied female anatomy so I know a thing or two about --"

Oh dear lord...

"Dick." Bruce was an inch from having a spasm. How ironic it would turn out to be if gotham lost its protector because of certain golden boy growing up.

"hey did you know that --"

"Get out, Dick."

"But I thought you wanted to--"

"I said get out"

"-talk?"

"I believe you got it all wrong. It was Alfred. Yes. Alfred wanted to talk to you. Not me."

"You sure about it B? You want me to talk to Alfred about -"

"yes. Absolutely. Now go. I'm sure time is of essence"

"it is. Though Alfred took some time off, thanks to your generosity, Bruce. So I'll go, sure, but I've already got so many questions that I don't want to search online and--"

"Dick?" Y/n voice sounded dangerously close to the batcave entrance "Where are you? I'm gonna have to go soon and I need a proper goodbye --"

"coming!!!" Dick yelled rushing off the room " great talk, Bruce. We'll continue it later."

Dick left and Bruce was finally able to let out a groan. The masterplanner forgot to acknowledge the fact that sweet kids tend to turn into feral, hormonal young adults and require actual upbringing.

***

"you're so mean to him, you know that?" Y/m muttered, once again with his lips on hers

"mean? Who, me? Ouch! You're hurting my heart here princess."

"you are. He could easily be a DILF, yet is alone and you're tormenting him."

"but if you saw the look on his face --"

"you're only proving my point of you being mean".

"I'm sure he'll get some, some day--"

"but still- mmm!"

"I remind you that you enabled the plan baby.... Played quite an important part in it." Dick started kissing her a little harder, not even trying to hide where he was heading. "Wonder why that is..."

"cause you're also a -- ohh!"

"you were saying?" He smirked, looking up at her.

"-prick"

"Am I?" His hands moved where she liked it "what else?"

"liar..." She gasped. While it was true he didn't tell her why he invited her over and that his father was in, his movements were serving as a pretty good apology.

Even if knowing Dick it was obviously also a way to boost his ego and prove his point and complete his twisted and deranged plan.

"you know what, I've already had one talk, I don't really need another.... Rather keep my lips occupied with something else --"

***

Bruce came out of the batcave only after making sure it was safe.

Mentally cursing himself for having not one, but four boys under his care.

Which meant that this - whatever it was-- was about to happen again.

#Dick Grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #dick grayson smut #nightwing smut #dick grayson x you #nightwing x you

394 notes · View notes

thriftedtchotchkes · 1 year ago

Text

mama's boy

pairing: derek danforth x gn!reader

summary: derek always answers when his mom calls, no matter what or who he's doing

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fwb!reader, smut, exhibitionism, sneaky sex during a phone call, unprotected/unspecified penetration, creampie, spanking, dirty talk, mommy issues

words: 1.5k

a/n: this is my first gn!reader smut so please please lmk if any descriptions don't work <3

Derek's phone barely rings twice before he picks up.

You're not sure why he answered at all when he's already busy fucking you, but he doesn't stop, even after he murmurs a greeting into the mic and tucks the phone between his ear and shoulder. He just continues to bounce you on his lap while he talks to whoever's on the line, managing to keep his voice steady save for a few hitched breaths.

"I was just thinking about you," he says casually as if his fingers aren't digging into your ass right now, dragging you up and down his cock, your walls gripping him like a vice.

You're already a mess after an hour of edging and teasing, and you're surprised the mic hasn't picked up the lewd sound of his skin slapping against yours. To your ears, it's obvious what's happening on Derek's side of the call, but the lack of response from the other end leads you to believe they still haven't caught on.

He speaks again, a little breathier this time. "I miss you. I was hoping to maybe see you this weekend."

His eyes don't leave yours as he purrs sweetly into the phone, attention divided between holding up his end of the conversation and continuing to withhold the orgasm you rightfully deserve. There's an unspoken warning in his gaze telling you to stay quiet, but the harder he fucks you, the more difficult it gets.

His hand slides up to tweak a nipple, and you realize he's testing you. Playing with you, daring you to make a sound. Part of you wants to, especially if he's going to say shit like that to someone else while he's buried balls deep.

You clench around him in retaliation, but aside from his fingers tensing on your hip, he seems totally unaffected. The asshole actually has the audacity to look amused like he's enjoying his little game.

"I'll behave," he tells the mysterious caller with surprising ease. But then, he cups your cheek and drags his thumb along your bottom lip, and you know his next words aren't meant for them. He's speaking directly to you. "I promise. I'll be good, just for you."

He slips his thumb into your mouth, and you have to resist the urge to bite him. He's a goddamn liar. If he's not going to behave, then why should you? Giving into the impulse, you nip at his finger, taking him by surprise. He sucks in a harsh breath through his teeth, and finally, it's audible enough for them to question it.

He tries to brush off their suspicion, but it's obvious he's busy. He sounds less believable with every word, and more like he's doing something he really shouldn't be on a business call.

"Nah, don't worry about it. It's nothing, just some of the guys fucking around," he bites out. But then, he unexpectedly mutes the call. If the searing look on his face is any indication, you're in trouble now.

"C'mon baby, I know you can do better than that—unless you want me to take this call somewhere else and let you take care of yourself."

You shake your head frantically, hating how quickly you fold at his dominance, even though he's still acting like an arrogant prick.

"You gonna be good for me?"

You nod. If you hadn't already experienced how hard he can make you cum, you'd probably put up more of a fight. But you have—and you know it's more than worth your silence.

Satisfied, he cradles the back of your head and pulls you down for a bruising kiss before unmuting the call.

"Yo, shut the fuck up," he says a little louder like he's actually telling off his boys instead of you. Then, his expression turns downright sinister. "My mom's on the phone. Have some fucking respect."

You gasp before you can stop yourself. There's no way in hell the fucking President of the United States is listening to you fuck her son—and yet, it suddenly makes perfect sense why he picked up the phone in the first place. Derek and his mommy issues.

He slaps your ass in response, another warning, but his subtle smirk betrays him. Sick fuck. He likes this. He thinks he's so smooth, so above consequences. It's why he didn't bother to lock the door when he dragged you into his late father's office and pulled you onto his lap, uncaring of who might walk in and see him fucking you dumb.

And he's right. Consequences don't exist for someone like Derek Danforth. Not even from mommy, who would never let anything happen to her handsome baby boy. Even if she did notice, she'd probably just scoff and tell him not to get caught by anyone that matters.

That's power. God, you wish that didn't turn you on so much.

He plants his feet firmly on the ground and forces your upper half to the side so he can see around you, watching how tightly you grip him as he plunges in and out of you. His pace is brutal now, and you can feel that telltale heat building low in your stomach.

Through all of it, he still somehow manages to ping-pong back and forth between replying to his mom and urging you to cum for him. His voice is strained, and even though you can't see his face anymore, you can tell how flushed he must be, his eyes likely rolled back at how slick and warm you feel around him.

"C'mon, give it to me. So fucking tight, I know you're close," he mutters just loud enough for you to hear before he switches back to being her doting son.

"Don't worry about the donors, I'll handle it. Just—," you accidentally cut him off with an involuntary clench, and he bites back a groan, "—the party's for you, just enjoy yourself. Y-you...you've earned it."

You're about to earn it, too, though you probably don't deserve it. Not when you're whimpering pathetically into the aged leather of his father's armchair, overwhelmed by how much his thick cock stretches you out.

By now, Derek's either too far gone to hear it or doesn't care enough to scold you. His thighs tremble violently beneath you, and his thrusts are getting sloppy and uncoordinated like he's just as close as you are.

"Fuuuuck," he lets out a pained growl when he finally hones in on your sweet spot. He doesn't hold back, abusing it until you're spasming dangerously around him and on the verge of tears.

There's no way she can't hear him now, but that doesn't stop him from babbling incoherently as his pleasure peaks. "Oh my fucking god, baby, you're gonna make me—fuck, I'm...m'gonna—"

But you tumble over the edge first, cumming so hard, your vision whites out.

"I—shit, something just came up. I-I gotta go," he croaks hurriedly into the mic, your convulsing walls and muffled moans seconds away from making him blow his load. "Some emergency, I don't know. I just—sorry, I really gotta go," he grits through his teeth, desperately trying to hold on, to be respectful and let his mom finish talking, but it's way too late. "Yeah, love you, too—"

He abruptly sits up and wraps his arms around you, his phone toppling to the floor as he holds you in place and roughly empties his balls into you. Warm spurts coat your walls and dribble onto his thighs as he ruts into you, loud enough to rival the squeaking chair being pushed to its limit below you.

Yet, nothing in that room is louder than Derek. He hauls you up and crashes his lips into yours, whining pathetically into your mouth as he rides out both of your highs. His hands are everywhere—grabbing your ass and waist, wrapped loosely around your throat—while you milk every last drop from his body.

When the aftershocks subside and sensitivity sets in, he finally pulls away but doesn't pull out. Whether it's to avoid staining the furniture or keep you plugged up so his release doesn't leak out, you're not totally sure. But his body language, satisfied and boneless and so pleased with himself, leads you to believe it's the latter.

Of course, Derek doesn't give a shit about the furniture. He probably just likes the idea of you walking around the rest of the day with his cum soaking your underwear.

"See what happens when you do what I tell you?" he smirks, lazily stroking your hip with his thumb.

You roll your eyes. "Oh, fuck you. I hope your mom's party is awkward as fuck now that she knows the weird, kinky shit you're into."

"I wouldn't wish that on yourself, baby. You'll be there, too."

"Excuse me?" you blurt out incredulously.

He just laughs, keeping his arm tucked around you while he bends down to snatch his phone off the floor. The screen lights up with a new text message—from Mom.

"Try not to be so loud at the fundraiser. Press will be there, and the last thing I need is another reporter to pay off."

thanks for reading!

divider by @saradika-graphics

#derek danforth x reader #derek danforth x you #derek danforth smut #derek danforth #the beekeeper #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader #jhutch

457 notes · View notes

ophanum · 1 year ago

Text

' MISS CONNECTIONS ! - Niragi Suguru

ft. sub yandere! Niragi Suguru x f! insecure! reader

synopsis : You have seen him talking with another girl, so unsuspected and he's so chill with her. You saw this scenario not only once but twice. Now he's banging on your door.

tags & tw/cw: Slight OOC, angst.

❝A rib cage breaks in many ways... I'm told the best way to do it is take the heart out, is take the heart out...❞ — Miss Connections by The Keystones

It was her.

"Bunny," he called out, a name that used to send shivers down your spine, now dripping with a sickening sweetness.

The crowd blurred, a sea of faces except for one. There he was, the black hair a beacon. But it wasn't him that stole the air from your lungs.

His smile, the one that used to be yours, was plastered on her face too. It felt like a theft, a violation. As her smile mirrored his, a crack formed in your heart, widening with each passing second. The warmth you'd built around your emotions crumbled, replaced by a hollowness that echoed in your chest.

Tears pricked your eyes, blurring the scene further. You wished, with a desperation you hadn't felt in years, that he could see the wreckage he'd caused. The love you'd poured into him, now a shattered reflection staring back.

A ghost of a smile played on your lips, a bitter parody of amusement. You didn't need to stay here, a spectator in your own heartbreak. With a final, resolute turn, you walked away, leaving the shattered pieces behind.

"Hey babe," he chirped, pushing open the door. His adoring gaze swept the room before landing on you. Your back was turned, but he didn't miss the way you stiffened at his arrival. His grin, wide and boyish, seemed at odds with the way he swayed towards you, arms outstretched. Despite it, they landed softly on your hips, pulling you closer.

You remained unresponsive, a statue in his embrace.

"Just wait," he murmured, nuzzling his chin against your shoulder and squeezing tighter. "There's another game we can play, right? You and me? What do you say?"

"Sure," you replied, your voice flat. "I'll play."

Niragi, usually oblivious, caught the undercurrent in your tone. Maybe it wasn't your best day. He forced a smile, trying to inject some lightness into the air, even if it clashed with his usual bravado.

"Perfect! How about we head to my room?"

Silence stretched, thick and heavy. Finally, you spoke.

"No. Actually, I don't think I'm in the mood."

His eyebrows shot up. "Hey, what's wrong?"

A humorless chuckle escaped your lips. It sputtered out before fully forming, like a deflated balloon. Though you remained, the lightness had vanished from your laughter.

"Just not feeling it, Niragi," you sighed. "Honestly, sleep sounds amazing right now."

The clink of metal echoed as you dropped your utensils, the clatter a stark contrast to the quiet simmering on the stove. You turned and walked away, leaving Niragi rooted to the spot, his hand reaching out as if to grab your arm, then retracting just as quickly.

"Okay then," he mumbled as you reached the doorway. "Sweet dreams, babe."

The door shut with a soft click, your reply lost in the silence.

That's how things had been. Maybe a little childish, you thought. But the tone of his voice, laced with a vulnerability that resurfaces ever since you two admit each to one's feelings, sent your mind spiraling. A flicker, a spark – not broken, but…dented.

Liar. The word echoed in the empty space where your laughter once resided.

You love him more than you can handle. It's a suffocating weight, this affection, a burden your heart wasn't built to carry.

Love, in its purest form, terrifies you.

A tear welled at the corner of your eye, threatening to spill. But not this time. No, please, not today. Not when you're already teetering on the edge. Sleep, blessed sleep, became your only solace, a refuge from the storm brewing within.

Then came the next day. And with it, the sight that ripped the fragile peace you'd cobbled together. There he was, again, with her.

Why? What twisted game was this?

Jealousy, ever the venomous serpent, coiled itself around you, its icy grip climbing from your toes to your very core. It squeezed, injecting its poison into your veins, turning your thoughts to ash. Your fingers clenched, knuckles white. The world blurred with a haze of hurt and anger.

But then, a flicker of something else. A ghost of a smile played on your lips, your eyes drooping half-closed. The raw shock morphed into a mask of weary acceptance.

"Maybe..." you whispered, voice barely audible, "maybe they are better suited..." You squeezed your eyes shut, a strangled sob catching in your throat. "I can't compete with that..."

Defeated, you turned to leave, each step heavy with the weight of unspoken hurt. But just as you were about to slip back into the shadows, a hand clamped down on your arm, halting your retreat.

"What were you mumbling about, babe?" Niragi asked, his voice laced with concern.

You turned your head slowly, meeting his gaze with a wary caution. A flicker of movement behind him caught your eye – the woman he'd been with, now engrossed in conversation with someone else. His eyes, however, held a different story, a story you could almost decipher from the worry etched within them. He must've caught a word or two of your whispered defeat.

A smile, fragile and uncertain, touched your lips. In those depths you saw reflected the memories you shared, the very foundation of your love for him. And you knew, with a pang of truth, that his love for you brimmed over, a constant overflowing cup. Yet, even a cup overflowing with red wine can be refilled. He was the one who'd take his last breath for you, you knew that.

So why this sudden doubt, this crippling fear? Because love, you understood with a bitter clarity, was a fickle thing. And you, you were weak. You couldn't hold out forever, no matter how much it tore you apart.

Even for him?

But wasn't this for him, too? This agonizing self-preservation? A selfish act, a mantra echoing in your head – selfish, selfish, selfish. But what other choice did you have? Did you..?

"Are you okay?" Niragi's voice, laced with genuine concern, snapped you back to the present. You looked at him, the weight of your unspoken turmoil a heavy burden in your chest.

Your eyes snapped open, the daze momentarily forgotten. You forced a closed-eye smile, hoping it masked the turmoil within.

"Hey! Didn't see you there. What's up?"

Niragi wasn't fooled. Something was terribly wrong. "Y/n," he pressed, his voice firm. "Talk to me. There's something bothering you..."

You let out a shaky breath, a sliver of your exhaustion finally reaching the surface. Your eyelids fluttered shut, revealing the dark circles beneath. "Just...tired, Niragi. All these games are catching up, I guess."

You started to walk away, seeking solace in the quiet corners of the room. But Niragi's hand clamped onto your arm before you could disappear.

"Let me help," he pleaded. "Babe, I hate seeing you like this. I want to fix it."

A sigh escaped your lips, heavy with unspoken words. "Maybe later, Niragi. I just need some space."

You retreated once more, leaving him standing there with a furrow in his brow.

How many times? How many walls had you built, only to have him break them down with his unwavering concern? It had happened just yesterday, hadn't it? And the week before that? A month?

Now here he was, practically begging on the doorstep. Knees scraping against the floor, knuckles rapping a frantic rhythm against the wood.

"Y/n, please..." his voice choked with emotion. "Tell me what I did wrong. Tell me, so I can hold you again. I just want things to go back to how they were..."

An hour had passed, measured by the deepening purple of his knees and the puffy red of his eyes. Yet, he persisted. You, in a way, had molded him into this new Niragi. A man in control, seeking validation through love, not violence. Rid of the bloodlust, the madness, the insecurity. You'd sculpted him into something better.

Perhaps that's why he hadn't just barged in yet. But the raw desperation in his voice hinted at the calamity simmering just beneath the surface, barely contained.

The weight of his debt was heavy – his life, his future, all tethered to her. But if this was the end, then so be it. He'd unleash the monster he kept caged, just to keep her by his side.

Yet, a question gnawed at him, a relentless echo in his mind. Why? Why was this happening?

Just then, the click of the lock sent a jolt of hope through him. He lifted his chin, a desperate plea mirrored in his puppy-dog eyes that twisted something in your gut. He sank to the floor, clinging to your leg.

"Please," he rasped, the word a desperate plea through hiccups. "Please, just tell me what's wrong..."

"Come inside, Niragi," you sighed, leading him into the room.

You settled on the bed, the air thick with unspoken tension. Niragi remained standing, a storm brewing in his unstable gaze. He craved answers, and he craved them now, even if it meant forcing them from your clenched fists. Even if it meant laying waste to everyone around him for your sake.

"So?" he finally barked, his voice tight.

Silence stretched between you, your eyes refusing to meet his. He searched your face, desperate for any explanation.

A groan escaped your lips as you buried your face in your hands. "It's me, Niragi," you confessed, a wave of misery washing over you. "I'm not strong enough for this."

"No, you're not weak!" His laugh, a harsh, hollow sound, sent shivers down your spine. Unhinged, desperate, teetering on the edge. "You're the strongest person I know, stronger than me even!"

"That's not what I meant," you clarified, your voice barely a whisper.

His gaze locked onto yours, a frantic plea replacing the desperation. Like a cracked glass, he seemed to hold onto the last vestiges of control, preventing the torrent of emotions from spilling over.

"I don't think I can do this anymore," you whispered, the words heavy with defeat.

"What?" The single word broke free, laced with disbelief.

"Find someone else, Niragi," you choked out, tears stinging your eyes. "I don't deserve you."

A tremor ran through him, a crack splitting wide within. The dam holding back the monster was on the verge of breaking.

"Wait!" he cried, scrambling to his knees before you. He cupped your face in his trembling hands, his grip gentle yet firm. "Why? What happened? I...I don't understand! Y/N, please, please, tell me..."

The dam within you finally broke. Your lips quivered, and a tremor ran through your body as the raw vulnerability of his touch cracked the carefully constructed facade. Tears streamed down your cheeks, your hands limp in his grasp.

"I...I got jealous," you confessed, the words choked out on a sob.

Niragi, overwhelmed with his own emotional turmoil, could only listen intently, his hold tightening slightly with every shaky word you spoke.

"I know you didn't mean anything by it," you continued, voice thick with despair, "but it hurt so much, Niragi. So, so much. I felt like I couldn't take it anymore. I'm such a terrible girlfriend..."

"No! It was me!" he roared, desperate to absolve you of any blame. "There's nothing to apologize for! I'm the one who glanced over, like an idiot! It wasn't anything, I swear! I'm so sorry, Y/n, so sorry! I'll never do it again, I promise! You're the only one I see, my love, the only one I'LL EVER SEE!"

You shook your head, the memory of that single glance, a mere hairline crack in your relationship, amplifying into a gaping chasm in your own mind. This was your weakness, your flaw, laid bare.

After the torrent of emotions, an exhausted silence descended. You took a shuddering breath, a tired smile flickering on your lips.

"No, Niragi," you said softly, your voice drained. "Don't you see? Can't you see how weak I am? How flawed?"

"No, they're not flaws! They're not!" he cried, his voice thick with choked sobs as he cupped your cheeks. "They're not... how can I make you understand that?"

You shook your head again, the movement barely there. "There's no need to explain anymore, Niragi. I won't listen. It's...irritating, isn't it?" you whispered, your voice barely audible over his sobs and the muffled thumps of his fist hitting the bed beside your leg. "I'm not trying to blame you...it's just the way things are. Can't we accept it? Fate practically screaming at us. Let's not try to ruin it all."

"I DON'T CARE ABOUT FATE!" he roared, his voice raw with desperation. "I don't care about anything at all! I ONLY WANT YOU, Y/N! WHY CAN'T YOU JUST GIVE YOURSELF TO ME?"

His words hung heavy in the air, a desperate plea laced with a terrifying undercurrent. He was at the end of his rope, teetering on the edge, willing to become the monster he held at bay, all for a chance to keep you.

At this point, his hair stuck to his face in damp strands. His sobs had slowed to ragged hitches, his eyes red and puffy. He hiccuped, clinging to you like a lost child. And amidst the wreckage, your heart, if it even existed anymore, shattered into a million pieces.

You'd questioned its existence for a while now. Was there even a flicker of sympathy left within you, for him or yourself? You'd cried yourself dry days ago, the tears a testament to your own pathetic state.

"I don't know how to fix this, Niragi," you whispered, the words a hollow echo in the room. "I wish I did."

"I would never," he hiccuped, wiping his face with a wet sleeve. He slumped down, laying his cheek on your lap like a defeated puppy. "I would never do it again, Y/n. Put me on a leash, tie me to a chair, lock me in a dungeon with starving dogs – losing you would be the death of me."

His voice dropped to a near whisper, his eyes losing their spark. "Don't...don't make me a grave."

Your lips quivered. Maybe you were the monster. Not the monstrous being Niragi conjured in his mind, but perhaps the architect of this pain. Maybe you were the one inflicting the hurt. And the thought of it repeating… you tilted your head down. It would repeat, wouldn't it?

"Niragi, it hurts so much," you choked out, the words thick with despair. "Why does it have to be this way?"

"Y-You're asking me?" he offered, a ghost of a smile flickering through his hiccups, only to melt back into a frown.

You cupped his chin, forcing him to meet your gaze. "Cuddle with me?"

2.4k words...

#niragi x reader #angst #alice in borderland aib #niragi suguru #aib niragi #niragi alice in borderland

336 notes · View notes

bidisasterevankinard · 1 month ago

Text

Sentenses sunday

I've made some pregress in my post 8x15 mpreg fic so here's a good long scene bc I need some love:

P.s. Not Eddie friendly. Buck pretty much understands that he was attacked in his house and blamed for nothing. Domestic violence implied. Don't agree with me, don't read, please: (p.s. Eddie might have redemption in the future, but not in this snippet)

Oh yes Buck thinks he's having miscarriage , but no, happy ending in a fic

Buck can’t sleep. Eddie’s words and actions are still on his mind. He’s scared to even breathe and he wishes to toss and turn in his bed, in his house. But he’s scared. About how much Eddie would push him if he started crying now. He’s afraid it’s not gonna be just pushing this time. And he can’t risk Eddie’s anger strike the wrong part of him.

The cramp in his stomach goes unbearable. It's a new reaction. He knows his body. And it’s not his normal stress reaction.

But nothing about his life is normal now. Maybe grief just found a new way to torture his body.

Buck feels the need to pee. Carefully moving so as not to step on the wrong place of the floor, Buck comes to the bathroom. He doesn't even take his sweat all the way when he sees these wet drops.

Red drops. Blood drops.

Hyperventilating he gets outside, hiding in his truck, calling 911. Josh’s voice sounds like a real lifeline.

Buck starts with an address and important information, “I’m p-pregnant and having slight cramps and some dots of b-blood in my boxers.”

“Ambulance already on the way, sir. Can you tell me your name and how far you are?” Josh sounds kind and professional.

“Evan Buckley, 8 weeks.”

Silence. Then less professional and more ‘I know the victim’ voice comes through, “Buck?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“Ok, stay on the line with me, paramedics are just 2 minutes away from you.”

“Yeah,” Buck nods, feeling the tears appear. “I see the lights.”

“In my truck yeah. I…” Buck wants to say ‘I wasn’t feeling safe in my house’, but what he says is, “Thought I might drive myself first, but then decided not to risk.”

“You’re outside?”

He can understand now how Maddie was so easily lying for decades. Lying to herself mostly, of course.

Turns out Buckley’s are damn good liars when they try to be as good as possible so people could at least tolerate them. Even if it’s people you could try and kill yourself to saving them.

The knock on the window gets him back to reality. To reality where he loses his baby. Because his best friend made him feel unsafe. Because the man he saw as his ride to die says he’s the selfiest prick to exist. Because he can’t trust Eddie Diaz near him or his precious bun in the oven.

Lena helps him out of the car. “Let’s go make sure you and the baby are fine.”

np tagging @quintessenceofdust88 @hippolotamus @lovetommyactually @devirnis @powersuitup @bangpop91writing @tommyscurls @bewilderedbuckley @jamieroyjamieroy @robinminustherichard @tommysbignaturals @saintbobbynash @unhingedangstaddict @agentpeggycartering @aringofsalt @lavenderleahy @laundryandtaxesworld @mustlovelou @loulou-land @exhaustedpirate @racerchix21 @zeraparker @evansbuck-ley @desert--moonchild @cliophilyra @typicalopposite @pilot-kinard @pirrusstuff @midsummersmorn @hyperfocusthusly @leashybebes @setmeatopthepyre @gayjaytodd @frogsinflannel

#my wips #bucktommy #<- soon #mpreg #tw implied abuse #evan buckley #not eddie diaz friendly #post 8x15 mpreg

70 notes · View notes

littlest-w01f · 2 months ago

Text

Liar

Azriel x Reader

AZRIEL MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: You fucked up royally by lying to your mate for weeks, now you must suffer the consequences.

CW: Dom/Sub dynamics, master title, scary Azriel, slightly dub-com punishment, chains, whipping, aftercare

a/n: I kinda wanted to dabble in this. Fic on Ao3

Anger radiating off your mate. He was walking away from you. Well, he'd ordered you to follow, but he was walking away. Your heart pounded in your chest as you hurried to catch up to him, each step echoing through the quiet streets. You could feel the heat of his rage emanating from him like a palpable force, making the air thick with tension.

As you drew closer, you noticed how tightly his broad shoulders were hunched, his usually confident strides now purposeful and aggressive. His dark hair, normally perfectly messy, was dishevelled, sticking up in every direction as if he'd been running his hands through it in frustration.

You reached out a hand, trying to touch his arm, to calm him, but he brushed it off roughly, not even glancing back at you. "Don't," Azriel growled, his voice low and dangerous, his siphons glowing. "You'll only anger me more."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as Azriel's harsh words stung, but you refused to let them fall. You swallowed hard, steeling yourself against the hurt. This was the first time his anger had cut this deep.

A part of you wanted to call after him, to plead for forgiveness, but the pride that had always defined you since childhood held you back. You weren't at fault here, you had your reason. You were not in the wrong. Still, tears fell from your eyes.

Azriel's rejection stung, but you swallowed hard, forcing down the lump in your throat. You knew better than to push when he was this upset. Instead, you fell into step beside him, matching his long, angry strides with your own determined ones.

The silence between you grew heavier with each passing moment, until it felt like a physical weight pressing down upon your shoulders. You glanced over at Azriel, taking in the rigid set of his jaw, the way his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. "Azriel..." You froze when he paused in front of the cave that led to his dungeons in the House of Winds mountain.

"Get in." He said, quite literally shaking with anger, when you didn't move, he growled, "Now, y/n!"

Your heart raced at the command, fear and uncertainty swirling within you. But something in Azriel's tone made you obey without hesitation. With trembling legs, you stepped inside the dark, damp cavern of his dungeon.

Azriel stood before you, his eyes blazing with a mix of fury and something else, deep, almost primal. He advanced towards you, each step deliberate and menacing. "You lied to me." His voice was a low rumble, sending shivers down your spine. "How dare you lie to me about something this big?"

"I didn't lie, Az." Perhaps this was the wrong time to stand your ground, but you felt this wasn't your fault. Not your fault that Eris was also your mate, or that he'd taunted you with that fact, told you he would steal you away from the mate you wanted. "I didn't..."

"You say you didn't lie," He growled, "But you kept it from me. You knew what you were doing." His voice cracked on the last word, revealing the depth of his hurt. He had found the letters Eris had written to you, a few taunting, a few flirty. You really should've burned them instead of hiding them by throwing them in the back of your closet, where he'd found them, and read each one. His pretty hazel eyes turned dark. "Strip, and stand by the chains. 10 lashes for your lies. And that's being generous."

Your breath caught at his command, and your body went rigid. "But, Az. I didn't-"

"30." He cut you off, standing off by the racks, deciding which whip to pick to deliver this punishment. "I will add 5 for each word you say."

A gasp escaped your lips at his brutal order, but you quickly bit it back. He was being unfair, it was just a little secret, but you didn't say it, knowing defiance would only earn you more pain. Slowly, you began to undress, each item of clothing falling to the cold stone floor with a soft thud. You kicked off your boots, peeled off your gown, unwound the laces of your underthings.

When you stood naked before Azriel, you couldn't meet his gaze, instead focusing on the heavy iron shackles hanging from the ceiling. He approached you, his footsteps echoing ominously. You flinched when his fingers brushed against your shoulder, guiding you closer to the chains. The cool metal bit into your skin as he secured your wrists and ankles, leaving you exposed and vulnerable.

He watched you with an impassive expression, his gaze lingering on your curves before meeting your eyes again. Then, he selected a long, wicked-looking whip from the rack. It wasn't the worst of his weapons, its leather strips gleaming ominously in the dim light, and he cracked it in the air to test it out. "You will count each strike, and say, 'I will never lie to Master'. Perhaps if the lesson sticks before the 30 strikes are done, your punishment is over."

You nodded, swallowing hard as you tried to steady your breathing. Azriel circled around your chained-up form, raised the whip high, then brought it down in a swift arc across your back. The crack of the leather against your skin was followed by a searing pain that made you cry out. "One... I will never lie to Master," You managed to choke out, tears streaming down your face. You hadn't lied. You just hid the letters that the autumn heir you did not want had written to you. You could handle Eris on your own.

He struck again, this time on the other side, the whip biting deeper. "Two… I will never lie to Master." Your voice shook, but you repeated the phrase, willing yourself to endure. You felt a bitter hint of sadness hit you with the pain, you'd wanted to handle it alone. You could've done it.

Azriel continued his merciless assault, the whip cracking down repeatedly, laying open red welts across your back and shoulders. Each blow sent fresh waves of agony coursing through you, making you gasp and sob. But still, you counted, still you spoke the phrase, even as your mind reeled and your body trembled.

By the ninth strike, your voice was hoarse, your words slurred. "Nine... I will never lie to Master." By ten, tears streamed relentlessly down your face, mingling with the sweat beading on your skin. "Ten... I will never lie to Master." You didn't understand how he was so mad at you over such a little thing. He praised you when you proved you could handle yourself, and this was no different. He should be feeling pride that you'd wanted to be capable of this.

11, 12, 13... The numbers blurred together as the whip continued its relentless rhythm, each strike burning anew into your already tender back. Your body shook with the effort of maintaining your stance, of not collapsing under the onslaught of pain and humiliation. Your mind felt foggy, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the ordeal.

With the fourteenth, it hit you with the crack of the whip. You had lied. Kept important information about your life from him. A choked-off sob left your lips, your mating vows, you had broken your mating vows, keeping this from him, from lying to him. You were a liar, and you ruined your relationship. You haven't been handling Eris, you threw him in your closet with the letters, hoping he'd give up and you wouldn't have to.

15, 16, 17, 18... As the whipping continued, you finally understood the true extent of Azriel's hurt and betrayal. He'd trusted you completely, and you'd shattered that trust with your deception. The realisation pierced your heart like one of the whip's cruel lashes. Sobs wracked your body, your voice reduced to ragged, hiccupping cries. "Nineteen... I will never lie to Master... Please... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... Az... Please I'm sorry."

Azriel's whip stopped mid-air at your tear-filled apology. For a moment, Azriel simply stared at you, his grip on the whip tightening until his knuckles turned white. Then, with a curt motion, he tossed the weapon aside, the sound of it clattering against the stone floor echoing through the chamber, he allowed his distressed shadows to rush to your aid, covering your back with their cooling touch, he knew he might've gone too far, and some did hiss at him for that.

He stepped closer, his eyes searching yours, trying to gauge the sincerity behind your words. You could see the turmoil raging within him - the hurt, the rage, the love. "Why, y/n? Why keep this from me?" His voice was rough, barely above a whisper. "I thought we shared everything."

You hung your head, unable to meet his gaze, ashamed of your actions. "I… I didn't think it was a big deal," you whispered, your voice trembling. "Eris was always trying to get under my skin. I didn't want to worry you, make you angry with me." A bitter laugh escaped your lips. "Clearly, that was a mistake."

"I know he already was. I read his letters." He tilted your chin up so you'd look up at him, wiping away your tears. He sighed heavily, his expression softening slightly. "I understand why you might have felt the need to protect our bond from him, but you should have trusted me enough to share your fears and concerns directly. Keeping secrets from me is unacceptable, y/n. We're mates, partners. Our bond relies on honesty."

"I'm sorry, Master..." You gasped, more pained by the heavy emotions than the healing scars on your back, a fresh wave of tears and shame washing through you, "I don't... I don't want him, Master. I only want you. I'm sorry... I'm..."

Azriel's expression softened further at your confession, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. "I believe you, y/n. I know you don't want Eris. He's not worthy of you." He pulled you close, enveloping you in a warm embrace, letting you rest your head against his chest. "I forgive my love, there's no need to apologise anymore, your punishment is done. But remember, honesty is essential in our bond. No more secrets, no matter how small they may seem."

He held you for a long moment, his heart beating steadily beneath your ear. When he finally released you from the chains, he winnowed you to sit on your shared bed, his strong arms supporting your back. "Let me tend to those wounds," He murmured, producing a small vial of shimmering liquid from your nightstand after resting you on your stomach, streaks covered back to the chill air.

He poured some of the clear liquid onto your back, the soothing balm immediately easing the fiery ache of the lash marks. You leaned into his touch, a sigh of relief escaping your lips as the pain subsided, replaced by a tingling warmth, the scars healing instantly.

After applying the healing balm, Azriel carefully massaged the soothing cream into your skin, his fingers gentle yet firm, ensuring every lash mark received attention. You felt his concern and care for you in every touch, his love a tangible presence wrapping around you like a comforting blanket.

As he worked, you felt your tense muscles begin to relax, the soothing sensations calming your frazzled nerves. Azriel's touch was both tender and reassuring, a stark contrast to the harshness of the whipping moments ago.

Once he finished treating your wounds, he helped you onto your back, tucking a pillow beneath your head. He sat beside you, brushing a stray lock of hair from your forehead, his hazel eyes filled with a mix of affection and remorse. "I shouldn't have lost control like that," he admitted softly, "But seeing those letters, knowing you'd hidden this from me... It cut deep. I'm sorry."

His shadows curled around your face and body in comfort, "Az... I understand why you did it. I shouldn't have kept something like that from you."

"I've never done anything to you before discussing it, I'll never do it again." He vowed, leaning in, capturing your lips in a gentle, apologetic kiss. When he broke away, his eyes searched yours, seeking reassurance. "Can you forgive me for losing my temper?"

"Of course, Az," You replied, smiling softly up at him. "I know you didn't mean to hurt me. You just felt betrayed, and rightly so, cause I betrayed you. I promise to be more open with you in the future, to tell you everything, no matter how small or insignificant it may seem to me."

He helped you roll onto your side, facing him, and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. You snuggled into his embrace, feeling safe and cherished. "I love you, y/n," he whispered, nuzzling your hair. "And I know I was harsh earlier, but I needed you to understand the gravity of keeping things from me, especially something like a bond with another person. Now, let's forget about Eris and focus on us."

He kissed the top of your head, and you felt your heart swell with affection for this man who loved you so deeply. "I don't want him... I want to reject the bond. I've been reseaching it how to reject a bond. I only want you."

Azriel's kiss on your head lingered, his lips brushing your hair softly as he processed your words. "Rejecting a bond is serious business, y/n. It's not something to take lightly. Are you certain this is what you truly want?"

He pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, searching for any hint of doubt or second thoughts. "Because once you go through with it, there's no turning back. You'll sever all ties with Eris permanently. Is that really what you desire?"

You met Azriel's gaze, your own eyes shining with determination and conviction. "Yes. I'm sure. I don't want to be bound to anyone else. He means nothing to me compared to you. I want to be fully yours, completely devoted to you and only you."

You reached up to cup Azriel's face, your thumbs stroking his cheeks. "I love you, Az. More than anything. And I know that if I stay bonded to Eris, it will only cause problems and heartache for both of us in the future. Releasing that bond is the right decision for me, and for our relationship."

You met Azriel's gaze, your heart pounding in your chest as you considered the weight of your decision. Rejecting the bond with Eris meant cutting all emotional and spiritual ties with him forever. It was a permanent choice with far-reaching consequences. But looking into Azriel's eyes, seeing the love and devotion shining back at you, you knew in your heart that this was what you truly wanted.

{General taglist- @lilah-asteria @paleidiot @dee-writes-angst @adalia-jaycee @anarchiii @alwayshave-faith @velarisnightsky444 @minnieoo @mellowmusings @daughterofthemoons-stuff @tele86 @thelov3lybookworm @romanticatheartt}

{Azriel taglist- @fxckmiup @annamariereads16 @saltedcoffeescotch @fieldofdaisiies}

#acotar #acotar series #acosf #acowar #acomaf #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel angst #azriel x reader #azriel acomaf #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #azriel fanfic #acotar azriel #azriel x you

84 notes · View notes

webslingingslasher · 1 year ago

Note

I'm dying for there to be a fic where the reader is Stark's daughter and tells Peter that he has to watch her, Peter does it and the more he does it the more they connect the two and end up dating in secret, but one day reader discovers it and then angs to fluff??? Would you do it, i love how you write yes and thank you

*cleaning out my inbox/drafts* this is an old one but i loved it so much mcu peter HAD to make a comeback for this. // a little different than what you asked.

you're livid and peter's scared.

your dad had shared a new piece of information in passing but it brought everything crumbling down. peter, your boyfriend, wasn't who you thought he was.

the person you thought was honest and gentle was really just a lying snake. he can wear manipulation well. even now, with wide eyes and a panicked grin you can't picture him hurting you like this. but you can feel it.

'hi, baby.' he knows you're mad, he's trying to approach this calmly.

'you're a fucking liar.' you just brought everything down to a negative level, peter feels his shoulders slump. he doesn't know what he did or how he lied. 'i'm sorry.' whatever he did caused venom to be directed his way and he doesn't like it at all.

'no you're not. you're a filthy, lying scumbag.' he's not trying to invalidate your feelings, but you're being really fucking mean to him and he really doesn't like this treatment from you. he's never been so hurt in his life, the person he loved with everything in him, can't get enough insults out their mouth.

'why are you talking to me like this?' he sounds pitiful and for a moment your heart breaks for him, you know how much you're hurting him right now but he broke your trust.

'my dad told me. i can't believe i fell for your bullshit, or was it all him? you're just some little drone for my daddy?' it was a blur of sarcasm and betrayal, and peter truly has no idea what he's done.

'what did i do? please tell me what i did.' he's pleading, he'd do anything to make it right. you scoff, everything seems so fake.

'my dad planted you into my life and you wormed your way into being my boyfriend.'

peter freezes, his stiff shoulders are your answer. 'it's true?' your voice cracked, the deception has your insides curling. you thought peter would deny it and kiss you a hundred times and tell you he wasn't that type of guy.

but he is and he did it.

'peter, it's true?' why do you want to cry? you were the one that was swindled. it hurts because you trusted him, it hurts because you thought he loved you just as much as you did him.

there's a new feeling, it's rage. you shared so much of yourself with him for nothing, you wasted time on him. you move on your own accord and you push your weight into his shoulders, trying to throw him back, it's useless. he doesn't even budge, but he still lets you try with everything in you.

'you're piece of shit! i... i fucking hate you!' the word has tears pricking your eyes. peter felt his entire heart shatter, he thinks you just told him the worst thing he's ever heard.

'i fucking loved you, peter. you were my everything. i loved you with everything in me, and it was all built on a giant lie. why would you do that to me?'

loved, loved, loved, loved.

peter goes numb, there's nothing to fight for, you didn't love him anymore. you push on his chest, he feels nothing, he moves with your motion. 'fucking say something!'

he blinks, he says the first thing on his mind. the only thing on his mind. 'i love you.' it enrages you even further, does he think it's a joke? 'fuck you, peter.' and with that, you turn to leave his room, his house, him.

peter might've messed up but he can't let you leave without trying to save this. he knows he fucked up. 'wait! don't leave yet, just let me explain it, okay? then you can go back to hating me.' the ending sentence felt like battery acid on his tongue.

you stand still. you’ve been hurt by him but you still love him no matter what you say, and that feels like a kick in the chest to yourself. if he can, you'll let him try and dig himself out of this hole.

'this, what we have, it's real. everything i did as your boyfriend was real. i love you with everything in me, you know i do.' you don't look like you believe it, it looks like you think he's just telling you what you want to hear.

'your dad...' peter doesn't know how he got here, he didn't expect it all to come out. 'look, i've always liked you, okay? you know that, we've talked about how when i first met you i was head over heels for you. your dad knew that too and he hated it. but then you were all sad about your friend so he suggested i just... befriend you.'

'suggested or told?' peter swallows hard, this is tricky even for him. 'i don't know. i just had the opportunity to talk to you and i took it. all your dad did was give me an in, that's it. everything else was all me, i promise.'

you sigh heavily, it sounds like something your dad would do. 'then why wouldn't you tell me this when we started dating?' peter gestures to you and all your fury. 'i didn't want this to happen. i didn't want you to doubt me. us. i didn't want you to doubt us.'

'so he told you to be my friend. nothing else?' peter winces, there's more to it and you're not sure if you want to hear it. 'okay, maybe he said to keep an eye out for you.' your face drops, peter's quick to keep talking. 'but i heard that as befriend! how could i keep you safe if we're not friends, right?'

it's not working, you seem more sad than mad now and peter prefers your anger. 'and when he saw how happy you were with me it changed and he gave me the go ahead to ask you out.' you'll bite your tongue on that one, you know it's because peter's a stickler for a father's blessing.

'when did he back out of the picture, peter?' the question un-eases him, and you have a feeling you know why. you pray it's not what you think, but it is.

'a couple months into dating.' peter jumps to continue, 'he never told me to date you, he just said it was a good thing and he was happy i was keeping you busy and making you happy. he gave me a little money for dates, but that's it, i swear.'

peter was taking money from him?

'so, while i was falling in love with you, my dad was paying you off? nice, peter. that's a real nice guy act.'

peter knows how it sounds, that's why he felt like he couldn't spit it out. the more time went on, the less he felt the need to share. 'that's not what it was, all he wanted was for me to be your friend, i promise. i'm the one that went a step further, i'm the one that wanted to be your boyfriend.'

you roll your eyes, how dumb does he think you are? 'of course you wanted to be my boyfriend, you were getting paid.' you couldn't be further from the truth, peter felt bad taking his money but it was to keep you happy and that's all he ever wanted to do.

he's failing pretty hard right now.

'no, that's not what it was. i was the one that planned everything, everything we built was because of me.'

'right. and he was just sponsoring it?'

peter's never fought harder for anything in his life. you were on the line. 'he pulled out when it started to get real. he said it was on me to take care of you and i did. i have been. i'm not lying, your dad might have put you into my life but every single part of me loving you was real and all me.'

you want to believe him. you want him to be telling the truth. and maybe if it all started because your dad wanted him to look out for you, you could look past it. but for him to double down and start taking money when you were calling him boyfriend makes you feel sick.

peter knows it's not working. 'baby, please-' you cut him off, 'don't you dare call me that, we're done. it's over. hope it was worth it.'

panic fills him, he suddenly feels hot. for a second peter sees black dots, he swears he's about to pass out. 'no, no, no. don't do this, don't do this to me.'

how did peter go from trying to salvage it to ruining it beyond repair?

your arms cross over your chest, it's a way to guard your hurting heart. it's not fair. you gave him so much of yourself just to learn it was all built on a lie, you can't choose between breaking out into a sob or wanting to punch his face.

'i really loved you, peter.'

'you still do. i know you do. you can't just stop loving me out of nowhere. i know i hurt you and i know i broke your trust but you can't stop loving me.'

you feel empty inside. peter was right, he hurt you. he hurt you big time. 'i'm going to try.' you can see how wet his eyes are, if he drops a single tear you'll go back on every word of yours. you have to leave and stand up for yourself because if you don't it'll be proof that he can treat you however he wants.

'please don't do this. i'll do anything, i'll... i'll...' he's drawing blanks, for the first time ever peter doesn't know how to fix anything. 'please don't leave me. i'll be better, i'll be who you need. i love you so much, please don't do this to me.' peter's grasping at straws and you feel your chest rattle when you tell him you're leaving.

peter drops to his knees, he's begging. 'i'm sorry, i'm so so sorry. i should've told you when we first started dating- no! i should've never done it, i should've told your dad to... to fuck off and, and, i'm so sorry! please don't break up with me, please.'

you've lost all edge, you feel just as broken.

'goodbye, peter.'

----

it's been three days of reckoning and you're in a terrible mood. the blame has shifted, after you dumped peter and returned home to your bed you thought long and hard about it and realized that peter would've never done it if your dad didn't get involved.

if your dad didn't drop peter in as an informant, you wouldn't be here. if your dad didn't tell peter to buddy up with you, he'd still be your boyfriend.

you don't hate peter anymore, you're just sad. instead, you hate your dad. you hate how he ruined everything you had and ruined all your trust in him. you've refused to speak to him for three days, this morning he had enough of it when you slammed your door in his face.

he promptly allowed himself in and looked around your disheveled room, he knows something's wrong. 'woah. easy on, teen angst. talk to your dad, what's going on?'

you pretend he's not in the room with you. 'is something wrong? do you want me to call your boyfriend?' of course he wants peter over, he wants him to spy on you so your dad can corner him and sweat him out until peter spills.

you know how peter is and your dad took advantage of that.

'i broke up with peter. leave me alone.' there's a ring of silence, your dad is in shock. it would explain the sudden excuses on why peter can't come over, it would also explain your sour attitude.

'why would you do that?' because of him. because your dad had to get involved in your love life. 'because of you. you planted him in my life and paid him off to date me. i hate you.'

'is that what he told you?'

you don't know why you're talking to him. 'basically.' your dad sighs and sits on the edge of your bed, you resist the burning urge to kick his back.

'is this about what i said the other day? honey, i didn't ask him to date you and i didn't pay him off. i paid him when he helped me redo the lab. he must've gotten confused on the reasoning.'

you think about it. the lab was renovated right around the time you started dating and was finished right around when you became official. and peter did the brunt of heavy lifting and furniture shifting. he even had to reschedule a date because he was going to stay up all night to wrap up all the cords and label them to keep track.

'and for what it's worth, the kid's always liked you. i saw it on his face the second you shook his hand and i told him absolutely not. but the more i thought about it the more i thought why not?'

you're not saying anything but you're holding on to every word he says. 'i got tired of you moping around the place because of that brat you called a friend so i suggested he keep an eye out for you and be a friend if you needed one. honey, i knew what i was doing. i knew what was going to happen.'

peter left a lot of this out. a lot.

'he said you told him it was his job to take care of me now.' your dad laughs. 'yeah, i did. when he came to me shaking and halfway begging to let him be your boyfriend, i told him that he would have to grow a pair and take care of you.'

your dad turns and gives you a light smile, he pats your leg over the blanket. 'i don't think any part of it was a lie, kiddo. i just gave him the greenlight to do what he wanted to do the second he met you.'

tears sting your eyes, you think about how crushed peter looked. you imagine the tear in his heart was far greater than yours. you heard something and made your own assumption and peter can't back himself to save his life so you walked away from it entirely.

you were so mean to him. you belittled him and did the worst possible thing you could do. you told him you hated him. you blink fast to clear your eyes, tears start falling instead. you've been so mad you haven't been able to process what you did but it's hitting now and you feel broken.

'i told him i hated him. i've never said that to him, he was so sad. i was so mean to him, dad. i was calling him names and...' your breath catches, you feel like your throat’s closing up. 'i think i broke his heart.'

you curl up, you want to be left alone, you want to punish yourself. instead your dad tells you to 'get your sorry ass up and go apologize to your boyfriend.' it's a very short pity party.

---

you rushed his front door. you felt like the longer you waited the closer your window closed. you stupidly blocked his number so now you're unaware if he's tried to reach out at all. you're knocking so hard your knuckles hurt.

'oh my good-' you push past may. it's incredibly rude and you'll have to add her to your apology train but the first and most important stop is peter.

'where's-'

peter steps out from his room, he looks at you cautiously and doesn't get halfway through your name before you're running to him and wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing yourself against him. it's a full bodied hug.

'i'm so sorry and i love you. i love you so so much, i love everything about you. i love your voice in the morning, i love how you always give me an extra kiss at night to repel bed bug bites, i love how you never give me shit when i don't bring a jacket to the movies even though i'm gonna steal yours because i always get cold. i love how you always make me a bowl of cereal after we-'

'may.'

'-watch a movie. i love how you grew your hair out because i asked you. i love how you always ask to kiss me first. i love how you love me.' you squeeze him tighter.

'i told you i hated you and that couldn't be further from the truth. i love you so much and i was so mean to you and i just don't want you to think i hate you. i could never hate you, peter. i should've never said that, i can love you and be mad at you at the same time.'

peter quietly shushes you, it settles the bubble of anxiety in your chest. he's calming you down, he's doing what he always does when you're inches away from a panic attack. peter gently pulls at your hands around his neck to move them to his waist, it's instantly more comfortable, you're able to bury yourself into him.

'i don't want to be broken up anymore.' your voice cracks, you don't know what you'll do if he says no. you're spiraling, the consequences of your actions are falling into place. you're going to lose him.

peter pulls you back into reality. he always knows when you're too far gone, you can't imagine life without him anymore. 'calm down for a second, okay? i'm not going anywhere. i'm right here.' he turns his head back to his room, may's doing that thing where she pretends she doesn't see or hear what's going on but she's actually holding on to every word.

'wanna go lay down?' you nod fast and pull away to tug him into his own room, peter swears he sees a frown on his aunt's face. the second he shuts his door you start in on round two, you stop when he cups your face and softly shushes you again.

'please stop panicking.'

'i'll panic until you take me back. i should've never broken up with you, peter. i was yelling at my dad and then he told me what actually happened and we were both wrong and now you hate me.'

peter's eyes are shining, he's getting a little amusement from your distress and you allow it. it's the least you could give him after breaking him down into nothing.

'i told you to stop blocking me when you get mad at me.' you want to hit yourself in the face, you knew you missed out on something. 'never again, i promise. i can't do this again, peter. if i'm about to have a panic attack over something that's a non-issue i'll hate myself forever.'

'you really want to hate someone, don't you?' you seal your mouth closed. he's right, you've been saying it too much. even if he said it with a tilt in his voice you take it seriously.

'since someone is a little reactionary, i'll show you my phone.' peter paws at his back pocket before you have his phone in your hands, sure enough there's five missed messages.

the first one was an hour after you dumped him.

'upon further consideration, i reject our break up. you promised me that you'd never break up with me in the heat of an argument. not after the charity auction thing.'

'therefore, we are not broken up until you come over and do it at a later time.'

'love- your boyfriend <3'

'ps. even though you blocked me, i know you don't hate me.'

'you're just mad and you're soooo gonna regret that later.'

peter's right, you do regret it. your eyes are glossy when you reread the texts over and over, even at your worst he loves you. 'so, you're still my boyfriend?'

soft pokes are placed at your sides, you squirm with his touch. 'duh. i just stayed away until you figured it out.' you pout at him, your attack deemed unjustified.

'he wasn't paying you to take me on dates. he was paying you for renovating the lab. that's why the payments stopped after we started dating.'

peter never took money from your dad and your dad never employed peter. he nods slowly. 'oh, yeah, that would make a lot of sense.' you reach forward for another hug and speak into his chest.

'i'm sorry for being mean and trying to break up with you.'

'it's okay, baby.' you melt at a kiss on your hairline. 'you didn't mean it.'

'i promise i didn't.' you feel like a dog with a tail between their legs, there's not enough ways to say how sorry you are. 'i love you, petey.'

another kiss. 'i love you, too.'

he feels so warm, he feels like home. for the first time in three days you feel comfortable, you press into your boyfriend and he doesn't budge. you love how sturdy he is, you love how you can nearly hurt him with your love.

you squeeze him hard, using all your force and almost shaking you're holding him to you so tightly. when you start limiting his breathing, peter pushes down on your elbows.

'you're about to cuteness aggression me to death.'

'i love you.' you can't say it enough.

peter laughs, 'i love you.'

'no,' you peer up at him, it's been days since you kissed him. 'i really love you.' it's whispered, peter's lips twitch at your blown pupils. you almost purr when he cups your face. 'i know you do.'

peter knows that look. he's the one that created it. 'do you want me to-'

'yes.' you waste no time, pushing up and attacking his mouth with your own. you don't know why it's so harsh, you don't know why you're desperate to swallow him and show him how much you missed him, how much you need him. you want to prove how sorry you are.

'lock your door.' peter's eyes sparkle, that means one thing. he takes off so fast his socks slip on his floor and he catches himself on the wall, his lock flicked in seconds.

peter tugs at the back of his shirt, 'naked kisses?' you bite your lip and nod, 'i could go for a bowl of cereal.'

#peter parker x reader #peter parker blurb #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker mcu #my writing

393 notes · View notes

imaginesbymonika · 10 months ago

Text

She's electric | Part 2

Pairing: Liam Gallagher x fem!bassist reader

Plot: Liam's hatred for Blur runs deep. However, no matter how much he hates them and their stupid music - he cannot seem to hate their bassist.

Last Part

Outside Y/N leans against the wall. 'Outside' (in this case) was nothing more than a small back alley behind the venue. She‘s supposed to like these things: those posh award shows and wild after-show parties. But she couldn’t bring herself to it.

She hears how someone walks out after her. The sound of ‘Genie in a bottle’ fills the silence, before the door shuts again. She hums the tune momentarily while lighting up another cigarette- god, she was turning into a chain smoker. Her mother would be so disappointed. Y/N hears how heavy footsteps make their way towards her. She doesn’t have to look up to know it’s Liam. She can smell him.

“It’s you.”, she lets out and lifts her head. She watches how he lights up a cigarette of his own. A smirk playing on his lips:” Who’d ya expect it to be, Princess?” He asks, looking down at her. “I don’t know.” He can’t help but stare at her figure in that tight black dress for a second too long.

” Why d’ya come out here anyway? Bored with your little band?” Y/N stares at him for a few seconds before she shakes her head:” God, you’re annoying.”

“I’m annoying, huh.”, he tosses the finished cigarette on the ground and stomps it out with his foot before crossing his arms:” Is that the only reason you don’t like me?”

“Oh no.”, she simply answers, looking at him with big eyes:” I think you’re fit.” She says it so casually that one could overlook the weight of her words. “You’re my favorite Gallagher brother, but god- you’re annoying!”

It takes Liam a few seconds the register what she told him before a huge grin spreads out on his lips:” Fit, huh.” Y/N notices the way her comment went straight to his ego and she sighs:” Don’t flatter yourself, please.”

“Oh Princess, I know I’m hot. I don’t need you to tell me that.”

“Is your brother single?” “Why?” “If you keep talking shit, I will change my opinion.”

The tension between the two of them is so thick it’s nearly unthinkable not to sense it. His eyes drop down to her lips. “Look at you being all cheeky.”, at this point, his voice is even deeper than usual and his face impossibly close to hers. “Please, you’re the one following me around.”

Liam knows it’s true, and for a moment he turns his gaze away. He was a lot of things but sure as fuck wasn't a liar:” Yeah, maybe.” He opens his mouth when suddenly the door behind him swings open again.

Liam turns around and sneers when he catches sight of Damon. “Not this prick again.”, he mutters under his breath. “Look Damon.”, Y/N points her finger at the Gallagher brother:” It’s our biggest fan.”

Damon laughs.

“How long have you both been out here?”

“Maybe ten minutes or something.”, Y/N explains looking past Liam. The lead singer's eyes flicker between the two and he can’t help but notice how close they’re standing next to one another. The blonde man raises his eyebrow in bewilderment and gives his friend a knowing look.

“What do you want, mate? We’re having a private conversation here.”, Liam spits out, now completely turned to him. “Looks more like arguing to me.”, Damon takes out a pack of cigarettes and lights one up for himself, his gaze landing on the finished cigarettes scattered on the ground:” And chain-smoking…”

“Liam came to congratulate us on our wins.”, Y/N softly says and Liam’s head snaps into her direction. “ Oh yeah, I was ‘congratulating’ you.”

“Isn’t he just the nicest?”, Y/N places her hand on Liam’s upper back, which makes him swallow thickly in return. Something that doesn’t go neglected by the young woman. She chuckles and rubs tiny circles. “Yeah.”, Damon lets out:” He’s the loveliest fella around…Anyway, I came to pick you up. We have to be at the studio at 6, remember?” He walks backward to the entrance door pointing between the two musicians:” Wrap it up, kids.”

Liam can’t help but feel…rather disappointed that Y/N has to leave. He watches how she opens her purse again and takes out the same pen she used to sign her name on his arm. Y/N once again grabs his arm, and Liam lets her:” Who said I needed your number?”, he asks looking down at the digits. “Sure, Princess.”, Y/N answers and walks past him, a sharp wink thrown his way.

#liam gallagher #liam gallagher x reader #liam gallagher imagine #oasis x reader #oasis band #oasis #blur #damon albarn

127 notes · View notes

mykneeshurt · 2 years ago

Text

Sorry

Keegan Russ x F!reader

Warnings - minors DNI, 18+, explicit smut, angst

———

‘Are you FUCKING joking?’ You screamed as you threw your very expensive vase at the wall. Keegan ducked, his cat like reflexes once again barely managing to save him. ‘You’re such a fucking liar! Fuck you!’ You stormed over to him, pushing him in his broad chest. Pure unfiltered rage pumped through your veins as you stared at the man before you.

The man who told you he loved you.

The man who made you feel safe.

The man who you allowed yourself to love.

‘I’m sorry’ he whispered, eyes glazed, the steel blue of his irises contrasted with the blood shot white of his eyes. ‘You’re sorry?! You’re fucking sorry?! Keegan you lied to me for six months. I fucking fell for you and this whole time you were using me to spy on my father. I don’t think sorry quite cuts it. Do you?’ Your voice was venomous.

‘I didn’t mean for this to happen.’ You pushed him again. ‘What? Letting it get this far? Or falling for me in the first place?’ Every limb, every fibre of you was shaking. Your mouth was dry, your eyes hurt from crying, your heart shattered into jagged shards of glass.

‘I … uh’ he stuttered.

‘I … I …’ you mocked ‘fuck you Keegan. Get out.’ As you turned to walk away he grabbed your wrist, instantly you spun round, the palm of your hand making perfect contact with his cheek. ‘Don’t touch me. We’re done.’

‘No’ he muttered as he stood defiantly in your living room. ‘Fuck you mean no? Keegan, I don’t want to see you ever again. I never ever thought you’d hurt me. But here we are.’ Your voice was low, almost a whisper. Turning again he gripped your wrist, ‘please don’t make me go.’

Tears pricked your eyes, your tired swollen eyes. You sighed, still allowing him to keep a hold of you. Your lungs felt so tight, they strained to breathe. Your bottom lip quivered as you sighed into the empty living room. The living room where you had your first kiss, where you would play fight, where he held you when your father had a fall.

Yet it was all a lie.

‘Keegan … I can’t … please let me go’ murmured, voice straining from the emotion. ‘I can’t. I can’t let you go. You’re all I think about. You’re all I want. I’ve tasted you and I don’t want anyone else. I want this. I want you. I want us.’ There was a soft thud behind you. Turning round you saw him on his knees, brows furrowed, lips pressed together.

‘Get up Keegan’ you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. ‘I’ll beg if you want me to’ he said, eyes never faltering from yours.

‘I don’t want that. I want you to go.’ He slowly rose to his feet, still holding your wrist. He closed in on you, the warmth from his body permeated your tired bones. Even feeling so angry at him his presence still soothed you, still offered you safety. You hated your body for betraying you.

Looking up at him through tear stained lashes your heart ached, your stomach twisted and turned. An unwavering abyss of emotion coursed through your body. His face was contorted, twisted with pain. He raised a hand to your cheek, using his thumb to wipe away your tears. You leant into his touch, these hands had killed people, but to you they were your sanctuary.

‘Keegan’ you whispered, your rage now confusion. He lowered his lips to yours, hovering above them, ‘I’m sorry.’ Your lip quivered at his words, you believed him, reluctantly, but it didn’t absolve him from his lies. He gently pressed his lips to yours, now cradling your face with both hands. You sank into the kiss, your mind and heart fighting against one another.

Your hands found his waist, pulling him closer. Your mind screamed at you to stop, that you would regret it. But your heart told you to keep going, that you loved each other, that you needed to feel something other than rage.

That you need him.

Lifting his shirt slightly you grazed your hands along his skin, his soft, scar littered skin. He deepened the kiss, his tongue slowly worked with yours causing you to moan softly. Butterflies swarmed in your stomach, your head fuzzy.

Wrapping his arms around your waist he picked you up, walking you slowly to the sofa. His footsteps seemed to echo in the now silent apartment. Sitting down he kept you straddling his hips, his hands rubbing your back under your t-shirt. You placed your hands on his shoulders, his broad firm shoulders. Instinctively you rolled your hips, feeling his hard cock beneath his jeans.

He groaned into your lips, using his hands he pushed your hips down urging you to grind on him. Breaking the kiss you threw your head back as he kissed and nipped at your neck, ‘fuck I need you’ he whispered.

‘I fucking hate you’ you retorted, still grinding on him, your panties now soaking with arousal.

‘Liar. You want me.’

‘No, I wanna fuckin punch you.’

‘Stop lying’ he moaned as he pulled off your t-shirt and bra. He gently kissed your collar bone before holding your chin, forcing you to look at him. The silence between you was deafening, both trying to read each others faces.

Reigniting the kiss you pulled at his shirt, removing it he threw it behind him as he placed you on your back. He made fast work of your jeans before sliding a finger against your core. ‘Oh fuck’ he whimpered as he bit his lip. ‘Take em off’ you ordered arching your back.

Pulling them off he then made fast work of his own. You pulled him back into a kiss, this time it was desperate, sloppy. Lining himself up he pushed into you, ‘fuck’ you moaned breathlessly. As he began to move you wrapped your legs around him holding him against you. He buried his face in your neck, ‘feels so good baby’ he whispered.

Staining your skin with kisses your bodies moved together, each thrust of his cock filled you as his tip grazed that spot. You could feel his muscles tense with each movement, how each one rippled beneath his skin as he fucked you. Sweat began to gather between your bodies, your arousal dripping from your stretched out cunt.

‘Harder’ you panted, ‘harder … fuck.’ He upped his pace, slamming his cock into you, his pubic bone hitting your clit. He leant back onto his knees, holding you in place by your thighs. His fingers gripping onto you with a bruising force. You watched as he jaw fell slack, biting his lips as he hissed at the sight before him. You dropped a hand to your clit, your orgasm not coming fast enough.

‘That’s it’ he praised ‘look so good sweetheart, fuck.’ Burying your face in your arm you whimpered and moaned. ‘Don’t stop Keegan, oh god!’ Placing his forearms next to your head he dropped down, kissing your neck. ‘So fuckin beautiful’ he muttered, ‘you look so beautiful taking my cock.’ Eyes shut you smiled as you licked your lips, he always knew how to praise you.

‘M close’ you managed to say in between your moans. ‘Keep goin baby, lemme feel you.’ He cupped your jaw as he caressed his thumb over your bottom lip, urging you to lose your self. With one final strum against your clit you lost yourself. Your body seized as your cunt pulsated around him, his eyes glistened as he watched you. An expression of awe written over his features.

‘Eyes on me’ he ordered, doing as you were told you focused on him. Gripping your hips he upped his rhythm, chasing his own release. ‘Gonna fill you, gonna fill this pussy, fuuuck’ he moaned. Biting your lip you played with your breasts, tweaking your nipples, teasing him.

With a final thrust he threw his head back, releasing inside you. Hot ropes of cum lined your walls, his cock pulsated inside you as he rode out his high. He still slowly moved inside you, pushing and pulling, overstimulating you both. Torturing your aching bodies.

He placed a soft kiss on your forehead, ‘can I stay?’ His voice hopeful. Cupping his face you kissed him deeply. ‘Yes. We’ll talk properly tomorrow.’

———

Taglist (y’all showed interest on my Keegan post) - @horsdutemps @lundenloves @sarcanti @averythang @tiredmetalenthusiast @kosmokenny

#call of duty #keegan p russ x reader #keegan russ x reader #keegan x reader #call of duty keegan #keegan p russ smut #cod keegan #keegan p russ #keegan russ smut #cod keegan russ #keegan russ #keegan smut #cod keegan p russ #cod ghosts

951 notes · View notes