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lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 1 month

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TOUGH- P.B PARKER

Pairing- Dilf! Cowboy! Peter Parker x Innocent! Fem! Reader

Word Count: 6.5k

Summary: Your school girl crush on your employer, Mr. Parker grows as you spend more time with him helping out around his farm, and soon he wants you to meet his friends for a night out at the local dive bar (to simply show you off :) )

Warnings: SMUT, consentual bondage, daddy kink, mentions of sexual activities, sexual implications, flirting, use of drugs, drinks and guns, slight dumbification kink, praise kink, breeding kink, peter just grabbing ur body/ feeling you up, teasing, swearing, age gap ofc (reader mid 20s, peter 40s) peter really just takes pride and care of his girl, making sure she is safe and satsified :)

" life's gonna do what it does, sure as the good lord's up above, i'm cut like a diamond shinin' in the rough.. tough"- tough, lana del rey & quavo

part two to save a horse, ride a cowboy - but no need to read to understand this fic <3

It wasn't the caw of the rooster that woke you this morning.

It was the feeling of a large, solid bicep that curled, caging your body in against another. His skin was warm to the touch, faint red farmers tan poking out at you as you snuggled deeper into the crisp,cool white linen sheets.

You felt Peters bare chest against your backside, the steady rise and fall of his chest soothing as you fought back sleep. The hands on his beside clock ticked, the minutes seeming to spin by faster then your eyes could follow as they fluttered open and shut.

Mornings like these were the best mornings you could've asked for.

They were rare, but they were precious.

The odd night you had managed to sneak out to visit Peter, which ended up with him taking care of you, from the beginning of the night to the ends of the morning.

It wasn't the cool morning breeze that slithered through the opened window that made you shiver, but the thought of Peter.

He had been teaching you how to ride, not horses- but him.

“Fuck darlin’ youre taking me so good. I know, I know-” he would coo as you whimpered, his cock stretching you out as he guided your hips to sink down onto him- to take him all.

“You’re doing such a good job honey, such a good job. You’re daddy's lil cowgirl aren't you? Learning how to ride me like a good girl.”

It made you squirm. Especially when after a while, he’d grow tired of your slower, gentler movements, gripping your hips and pounding up into you so hard you nearly fell off the couch if he hadn't been holding you.

You felt something poking out at your ass between the sheets, and you wiggled your body slightly, getting a low murmur from the sleepy older man beside you.

It was still early, and you knew your father wouldn't be awake any time soon, especially if he had been drinking. But you had cattle to tend to, and pigs to feed.

“Mr Parker…” you whispered, his arm still caging you in tightly.

“Mmm” he mumbled, eyes opening lazily, blinking slowly against the rising sun. “You’re not trying to escape from me, are ya?” he teased, pulling you in even closer, his morning wood flush against your ass, prodding at your lower back.

“I really don't want to leave sir I swear-”

“I’m joking sweet girl, I know. You have some calving happening don't you?”

You nodded.

I’ve been staying by them for most of the time when I’m not here. I like to think sometimes they like the company.” you smiled softly as he planted a kiss on the top of your head, then another.

“They most definitely enjoy it sweetheart. Especially yours. You're just such a sweet girl.” he hummed, large, calloused hands sliding under the sheets, down, down past your arms, slipping to give your ass a little squeeze before slipping up your little tank top to cup your breasts.

“Am I?” you asked, squirming in his grasp as his fingers toyed with you- a cat with its dinner, circling your hardened nipples.

“The sweetest. I just wanna keep you here baby, all the time, in this little bed so I can fill you up.”

You giggled, mind slipping from your duties for the day. His presence alone had your brain turning foggy, it was a miracle you could even think for yourself before he woke up.

But now? You were a goner.

“And why can’t you?”

He sighed, pinching the hardened bud between a thumb and finger. “Responsibilities honey. We both got them, and you're an independent girl.”

“I want you to take care of me though.” you pouted, giving him puppy dog eyes that drove him wild.

His tousled hair was soft between your fingers, his stubble harsher across his cheekbones. “Soon I will be sweetheart. I’ll make you my sweet lil cowgirl.”

You laughed as he kissed you all over, smothering you deeper into the pillows, his musky cologne engulfing you, lingering long after he had made his way to the bathroom, the sink handles cranking.

Cold water spewed out, captured in the same tender hands that had just cradled you as he rinsed his face. You called out for him, already missing his warmth, leaving him to stop dead in his tracks. You were fanned out on the bed- his bed, your body unfolding from under the sheets like an origami swan.

You lounged, eyes shut, your little shirt sliding further and further up your torso, tempting him. Before he could help himself, he grabbed his film camera that permanently was stationed on his old wooden dresser, the one his mother’s mother had before her, and so on.

Soon it would be covered in photos of you. His secret collection, a guilty pleasure of his favourite enigma that struck him down to his bones. You were a diamond in the rough in his life. You had consumed him, night and day. The way your voice sounded so sweet calling his name drove him to insanity.

The gentleness, the tenderness..

He needed to capture it.

“Mr. Parke- hey!” you protested as the shutter flickered a flash darting out between your heavy eyelids.

“You better not do anything with that, I look a mess.”

He snorted. “Was that a threat honey?” he asked, coy.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe hm?”

You shrieked as he set the camera down, taking a long stride before he was on top of you, caging you in as his hands pinned your wrists beside your head.

“You’re so beautiful my sweet… my beautiful, beautiful girl.” he murmured, eliciting a sigh as his forehead brushed yours, scruff grazing your neck as he inched closer to breath in the sweet scent of your perfume- always lingering on your skin.

You wiggled under him, attempting to free yourself from his grasp, and failing. It turned him on more then he cared to admit, to see you under him, almost helpless.

“Mr. Parker…”

“You know to call me Peter, sweetheart. You know what that name does to me.” He kissed your neck, once, twice and a third time.

“I should go… as much as I don’t want to…” you sighed, eyes darting over towards the ticking clock, hands seeming to move quicker and quicker as the minutes passed.

Your father would be awake soon, if not now, and that frightened you. If he woke up and found your bed empty…

“Come with me to the bar tonight. Please doll, I wanna show you off to all my friends, just to show them you’re mine.” he pleaded, seeming to make time stop completely, as you fell under his spell.

The way he was looking at you, yearning. Begging. You couldn't refuse. You didn't want to refuse.

“What time?” you asked softly, as he dipped his head back down to meet yours, a smile forming on his lips.

"Ten. I’ll pick you up at the house.”

You bit your lip. “You- you can’t. Father won’t-”

He nodded slowly, remembering how difficult your father could be.He would never allow it. Especially not with your employer. Though he was much… much more than that.

“I’ll sneak out again. Father will never find out, I’ve done it so many times, I can run out past the gate through the field…”

“Wait. Sweetheart, you need to be careful. I know you’ve done it so many times, and I hate making you do that, and putting you in danger-”

“You’re not making me do anything Mr. P- Peter.” you whispered as his lips brushed against yours. They tasted minty, the two cushions softly caressing yours, gente enough to feel as if they were a whisper.

“You don't know what's out there. So promise me you’ll be careful, I’ll be there at ten on the dot. Leave when you have to, no earlier and please, please bring a sweater darlin, it’s gonna be oh so chilly…” he trailed off and you smiled brightly with anticipation, cheeks hurting from the repetitive movement.

His forehead met yours again, a silent promise of reassurance.

It was sweet he cared for you this deeply. It made butterflies churn in your stomach like twisters, made your toes curl in excitement so tightly you feared they'd all stick together.

A drug you could never get enough of. A hope you were chasing, that this could work past the summer months that you meant more to him then you realised.

He was introducing you to his friends, that was a start. A huge start.

“I will. Promise.”

-----------------------------------------------------

Mr. Parker was many things. One of those things was timely.

And truthful.

Not a minute past ten and his pickup was parked on the side of the road, nothing but red brake lights under the stars as guidance as you descended the old wooden fence on the other side of the field.

You had been pacing in anticipation all day, hardly able to stomach anything but crackers and cherries from the trees in the back. Braiding your hair just to unbraid it, to braid it again.

Peter had let you off for the day, he never really worked you- but of course your father didn't know that. So you were alone with your thoughts as you did your daily chores around the farm, tending to the sheep and cattle as the dogs nipped at your heels before darting after one another.

You didn't know where your father was when you got home. Asleep, you assumed. Or in town, to flirt with the general store owner. It didn't matter to you, what mattered was he was gone until he wasn't.

Dinner was quiet, not that you minded, just the sound of forks and knives scrapping fine china as the lanterns flickered in the dining room.

You were too focused on the night ahead, and what to expect. Or if you should be expecting anything.

No more than a quiet goodnight was said as you each tucked bodies behind wooden doors, and you wasted no time tugging on a little white lace dress, doing your hair the way you knew Peter liked the most.

You pumped the squeeze ball of your perfume, the little tassels brushing your skin and making you shiver as the scent hit your neck. The cool breeze slithered through your opened window, the curtains lashing out like branches in a storm that threatened to topple over the house.

Peter was right, it was cold. Colder than it should be for a summer night.

Normally it was stifling hot, the night time only allowing the temperature to drop just slightly. It had plummeted tonight.

You shrugged on a little cardigan over your shoulders, before slipping out the window, crawling down the large oak tree that lingered beside your house, threatening to topple over.

Now you found yourself here, whipping open the passenger door, laughing as the wind storm picked up, seeming to nearly topple you off balance.

The tires revved against the loose dirt road, gravel flying with the dust in the distance as you sped past your house. You felt like a teenager again, the way you were sneaking out, spending your night driving in cars with boys. Though they never treated you well- until Peter came along.

But he was a man you reminded yourself as you leaned your head back against the headrest, his large, veiny hand sliding over to rest on your thigh, thumb tracing little circles.

“You made it out okay?” he asked reassuringly, fawning over you as his eyes flickered from the road over to your body. Checking for scratches and gashes.

“Easy peasy.”

The radio hummed softly as his headlights flickered, and you listened to the sound of the turning signal as you gazed over at him. He was so beautiful in this light, it made your heart get stuck in your throat.

His soft locks blowing in the wind, the faded yellow beams in front of him illuminating his chiselled jaw, teeth tugging down on his bottom lip in concentration.

He was so soft in the night light, so gentle. Yet he remained possessive in such a comforting way, his hand tightening on your thigh as he turned a corner, or hit a bump.

“Are you warm enough darlin?” he asked, drinking in your little dress, and the shawl that did next to nothing to hide your shivers. You looked down, noticing your nipples had hardened on their own accord through the flimsy lace, from the chill wind or Peter's hands feeling you up- you couldn't tell.

“You’re gonna need a better jacket honey. You're a silly girl for thinking that would cover ya.”

You dipped your head and felt your cheeks heat as his teasing. You liked when he teased you. “Yes Mr. Parker.” you nodded, slipping your hand down to intertwine with his at your upper thigh.

He pulled a joint from his pocket, using his knees to steer the wheel as you endlessly grabbed the lighter from the dash and lit it for him. Smoke puffed out, trailing out the cracked opened window as he exhaled, like so many nights before.

It was routine at this point, lighting his smokes. He always shared with you, whether it was letting you have a hit, or by puffing the smoke into your mouth as he kissed you, simply intoxicating you.

“I’m nervous.” you stated bluntly as the truck rolled closer into the outskirts of town, where the local bar was. “Honey, you have no reason to be nervous, promise. They already love you.”

“They know me?” you asked.

“ ‘Course they do. Some of em might even try to snag you from me. You’re such a pretty lil thing they’ll want you all to themselves.”

You giggled at his claims, redeeming them false. Your nerves seem to grow as you pull into the parking lot, hands twisting at his fingers as if they were fidget toys. It was busy, though you didn't expect anything else for a Friday night.

The night was still young, and the party showed no sign of stopping anytime soon, people trickling in and out of the swinging wooden doors. Neon lights illuminated outside were bright, candy coloured-inticing you inside.

Before you could unlatch your seatbelt, Peter slid his hand to roughly hold your chin, huffing smoke between your lips as he kissed you harshly, teeth clashing against yours.

You barely had time to catch a breath as he gripped you tightly, holding you captive with his lips. They were swollen by the time he was done with you.

“Don't even think about reaching for that door handle sweets.” he whispered, winking as he slipped outside, cheeks tinged with pink as he took one last puff, before tossing the burnt end and crushed it with his boot.

The door was opened on your side, his hand holding yours as he guided you down from the high truck bed, steading you as you lept and swayed against him.

“My darlin’…” he murmured to himself as he took you in again, the heat of his stare sending shivers down your spine. The puff of weed made your head feel fuzzy, and you felt the heat between your thighs grow warmer as he lapped you up- like a dog begging for water.

A gentle tug broke you from your pink, doe eyed trance, and you mindlessly followed him inside, pushing past the little wooden doors.

Soft lights illuminated the room in a way that still felt dark and grungy, people in cowboy boots perched up on bar stools, or bent over with a pool cue. Some old country song trickled out of the speakers perched around the room, and your nose was overwhelmed with the scent of whisky and smoke.

You followed Peter towards the back of the bar, a group full of older looking men drinking beer over a hand of cards tossed on the table. Each of their eyes darted over towards the pair of you, one of them in the front smirking in satisfaction.

“So this is the pretty lady, is it Parker?” the man in the front asked, sliding out of the booth to tower over you, just as Peter always did.

“Bucky Barnes.” he smiled, hand sticking out to firmly grasp yours. You drank in his ocean blue eyes, the little tufts of grey in his beard, scattered like salt and pepper.

“It’s nice to meet you Mr. Barnes.” you nodded.

“Please hun, call me Bucky. No need for that formal silliness.”

“That's what I’ve told her. She’s just too polite I guess.” Peter laughed, his hand slipping down to your lower back, guiding you into the booth, atop his lap as you were introduced to his other buddies.

They were all extremely friendly, all having mini conversations amongst themselves while they sipped on their drinks, or smoked their cigarettes. Each of their hands were warm when you shook them, firm grapes from across the cluttered table.

Your attention was soon directed back to Peter, and a waitress who had so graciously appeared. “Darlin? What did ya want to drink?”

“Just a rum and coke for me please.” you smiled.

“One bill please.” Peter said before she disappeared back off into the bustling crowd.

“I can pay for my own Mr. Parker.” you frowned, annoyed with yourself for not thinking of saying that sooner. “I’m sure you can sweetheart. But I don't really care. Let me take care of you, okay?” he murmured in your ear, hitching his knee up so you had no choice but to slide back on his denim jeans, back against him fully to keep your balance.

“But-”

”No, no buts. You just enjoy this night okay? Are you doing okay, it’s not too loud in here?” he asked softly, whispering quiet enough not even Bucky, who sat next to you could hear what he said.

“I’m good. Do your friends like me, d’ya think?” you asked timidly, wanting his approval. “Oh darlin they love you. They wouldn't shut up about meeting you, they just wanted to see how pretty and smart you were in person. My words aren't enough I suppose.” he smiled, brushing a kiss just behind your ear as the server returned, two drinks in hand.

You thanked her, taking a sip from your staw, twirling around the ice cubes in the glass as they clinked against the side. Before you knew it, you were down three drinks, laughing so hard at jokes spewed from the other end of the table your sides started to ache.

A hand tugged you up to the dance floor, Bucky twirled you around in circles before dipping you down towards the floor. A smile never left your face, the room starting to slightly spin on its own accord, and you saw Peter eyeing the pair of you across the bar like a hawk, his cool stare never leaving the back of Bucky's head.

He had offered to show you around up towards the north, a place you hadn’t visited much but wished you had. “I’ll show you around.” he smiled when you asked about it, dipping you low again.

”When?”

“Whenever you're ready, call on me.” he winked in response.

By the time you had to call it quits to save your wobbly legs, you heard Bucky snicker at Peter, slapping his chest before heading back towards the group.

Oh relax Parker I wasn't trying to steal your girl, just woo her a lil.

He didn't seem to like that one very much.

“Can- can we step outside for a sec?” you asked, stumbling towards his strong, lean arms that encased you once more- a warm hug you very much needed.

“You need some fresh air darlin? It gets so loud, I know…” he trailed off, quite literally sweeping you off your feet into his arms. You curled in against his chest, feeling the sway of each long stride across the wooden floors, the crowd parting like the red sea as he passed them by, all of them gawking.

You didn't blame them. He was beautiful.

“Shh, shh” he murmured as you started to claw at his t-shirt, twisting it in circles to keep yourself steady. “I wanna shoot bottles.” you stated as the cool air hit your skin, and you instinctively curled into his warmth.

“You wanna shoot bottles now, do ya? Do you even know how to shoot a gun?” he asked, laughing. You slid down to your feet, looking up at the night sky, the stars twinkling dimly from under the rolling clouds.

“Course I don't. But you teach me.”

You heard some guys around the corner of the building laughing with their friends, the sound of cans clinking as they fell from bullet wounds. You had never shot a gun before- not really ever needing to, but you saw some of Peter's collection tucked away in one of his older storage buildings on the property.

They were vintage, slightly rusted but still in decent working condition you assumed. Peter had never shot a gun in front of you before, but you knew that he knew how. Your father had mentioned hunting trips with him back when they were kids.

Surely he couldn’t be that rusty.

“I’d teach ya eh? How do you know that I can shoot, pretty?”

You shrugged, trotting over to where the men had been previously, their guns leaned against the building.

“I’ve seen your guns.”

“Those are old. Real old, from my granddad. Brass ‘38s.” he said. “I still trust you to show me how.” you stated, toying with the barrel of a bb gun, swinging it back and forth.

“This isn’t smart while you’re drunk.”

“Not drunk.”

“So drunk.”

You huffed, picking up the gun anyways. “That’s why you show me so we don’t do anything stupid.”

“With you I always want to be stupid.” You smiled softly, pretending to aim the gun at him, mocking the sound of bullets flying through the air.

“Now you’re being stupid darlin. Don’t aim that at anyone, that’s the first rule. Though I don’t expect you to know that right now, in your condition.”

“You should show me Mr. Parker, so I can defend myself.” your voice was high, extra girly as you toyed with the weapon, feeling flirty to high hell. He chuckled, running a hand through his hair as he slid up behind you, hands wrapped around your waist as he leaned down.

“Stay around me forever and you’ll never have to defend yourself baby. You’ll never have to do anything again.”

You giggled, cheeks warming from the alcohol rushing through your blood at his remarks. He was so silly. You thought, but you wished life could be that simple.

You wanted to wake up next to him every morning, to the feeling of him deep inside, pumping his seed into you- breeding you. You wanted to fuck like rabbits, for him to stuff you full over and over again until you were dripping.

You wanted him to kiss you all over before serving you breakfast in bed, tending to your every need while you lay in his bed, legs spread.

Jesus Christ your thoughts were dangerous when you were intoxicated.

What did they say again, drunk words were sober thoughts?

“You gotta turn off the safety first sweetheart.” Peter murmured in your ear, his warm breath tickling your ear. You heard a soft click, and he guided your arms into position, hands closing over yours.

“Now look through that little eyepiece and aim towards that can there.”

You squinted, trying your very best to focus on the only can standing up on the nearby fence. It took you a few seconds, but finally you had steadied yourself with his guidance. Your finger hovered.

“And.. shoot.” he whispered, finger tightening around yours, the gun going off with a loud bang! The can crumpled in on itself quickly, the aluminium falling from its place. You squealed with delight.

“That's my girl!” he smirked, clicking the safety back on as you drunkenly wobbled into him, wanting to take the toy away before you hurt yourself.

“Did I do good?” you asked, knowing he did most of the work- but still wanting his praise anyways. “So good darlin, you’re such a good girl, y’know that?” he asked, slowly backing you up against the cold siding, caging you in his arms.

The gun was long forgotten, tossed somewhere on the ground. The way his eyes sparkled drove you wild, a hint of mischief but still a maturity- a gentleness eying you down, soaking you in.

Your breath seemed to get caught in your chest as you tilted your head up against the wall to meet his gaze fully. He was so tall, so big… and he smelt amazing.

God, you wanted to blurt all of this out loud. You couldn't keep your composure anymore… it was next to impossible around him. You melted like ice cream on a hot summer's day whenever you were in his mere prescience.

“I want you to fuck me.” you stated plainly, his eyes widening- a coy smirk forming on his face. “Is that so?”

“Yes, Mr. Parker, I really want you to fuck me. Please.”

Well he damn near fell to his knees at your sweet tone, and your puppy dog eyes as you begged. He could never say no to his baby, but he also knew the two of you couldn't do anything out in public like that.

At least not all the things he wanted to do to you.

But it didn't mean he couldn't edge you on a little more until you squirmed for him with want.

“Was that what you were so distracted with earlier? You thinkin about stuff?”

You nodded. “I was thinking about you breeding me, and filling me all up until I’mall sticky, and so tingly I can barely feel anything. And I was thinking about you pumping into me and hurting me in such a good way.” you confessed.

If he was only slightly hard before, he was rock solid now.

Fuck.

“Sweetheart fuck-.. I- I’m so much older then you-"

"Not by that much.” you insisted, hand slipping down to rub in between his legs, cupping his bulge between your smaller fingers as he suppressed a moan.

“You’re so naughty baby. D’you think about this all the time?”

“All the time. I wish you could fuck me now.”

He clucked his tongue, shaking his head. Your nipples were so hard they strained the fabric, begging to be touched by him.

“Such a dirty mouth my lil cowgirl. You gonna let daddy fuck you hard tonight?” he breathed, hand slipping down to cup your breast. Yesss. You wanted to hiss, pleasure seeping over your body.

“Mhmm. Whenever.. Whenever you w-want.” you giggled, his hands slipping down to your thighs, hosting you up to his height- your legs wrapped around his solid middle.

He kissed your neck, teeth nipping the skin as he sucked, leaving little marks that scattered across your skin. Before he could go much further, a presence lingered from the parking lot, a man leaning against a wooden post- watching you.

He whistled sharply, causing you to whip your head in shock. “Lovebirds! If you’re gonna fuck- at least invite the rest of us!” Bucky called from the sidelines.

“You couldn’t even get it up old man!” you shouted, Peter bursting out laughing against your collarbone. Steve appeared, whistling at your remark.

“Oh she got you good Buck. Low blow cowgirl.” he laughed, clapping Bucky's back, a feline grin on your face as you walked towards the pair, adjusting your shoulder strap that had slipped down in your little rendezvous.

They definitely knew you were not wearing a bra, if they didn’t know before. Oh well, not your problem.

“If you want a ride, I’d watch your tongue sweetheart.”

You laughed, stumbling over to Peter’s truck. “We’re gonna leave that here and get it tomorrow darlin. Mr. Barnes is gonna give us a ride home.” Peter whistled at you, smacking Bucky upside the head at his remarks.

“Mkay…”

“There’s not enough seats, so the pretty lady is on Parker’s lap. Unless she wants to be on mine-“ he looked over at you, winking. “I’ll make sure to hit all the bumps.”

“You pervert.” Peter snarled- walking him again. “I’m joking, I’m joking!” Bucky laughed.

“Don’t listen to him doll, he’s being stupid. He doesn’t mean any of it.” Peter murmured to you, as he guided you from his truck down to Buckys, Steve already claiming shotgun, while Sam and Tony were in the back, leaving one spot open for you and Peter.

Great. For your sake, he hoped Bucky did hit all the bumps.

It was stuffed in the vehicle, arms touching as if you were sardines in a can. But you didn’t mind being on Peter's lap. He rolled the window down, allowing the cool air to slither into the back, cooling your skin.

The other men talked about whatever while Bucky's headlights flickered on as he slowly backed out of the parking lot- but all you could focus on was Peter. He was still hard under you, you could feel his bulge through his jeans, straining against his zipper.

Your dress fanned out, leaving nothing but your underwear to rub against the denim, which was now damp. You clenched your fists, fighting back moans as Bucky sped down the road, hitting massive potholes that nearly sent your head through the roof.

You caught a glint in his eye as he looked back at you from the rear view, knowing damn well he was doing it on purpose.

“Hold on tight.” was all he said as he continued on- and you squirmed against Peter's groin.

“You keep doing that, you’re gonna regret it.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

Peter grumbled to himself, hands tightening their grip on your thighs as Bucky hit more bumps. He clenched his teeth, hissing as he rubbed against your panties, feeling the wetness drip down your thighs.

The weed had heightened everything tremendously; he seriously thought he would cum in his pants.

That’s some shit the guys her age would do- those immature pieces of shit. The thought alone made him hold you a little tighter, savouring the smell of your perfume and shampoo.

You felt delicious on him. He wanted you on his lap constantly. He just wished no one else was in the truck.

You laughed at something Steve said, as Bucky put his turn signal on, gravel rumbling under the tires as he turned down Peter's driveway.

Oh thank god.

“Thank you so, so much for the ride Mr. Barnes. It was so lovely to meet all of you.” you smiled, waving timidly as Peter opened the door, allowing you to slip off his lap and jump down to the ground, holding his hand for balance.

Peter grimly nodded, cursing your sweetness towards Bucky, that motherfucker. Bucky winked as Peter tried to subtly hide his boner as he stood- and failed.

“No problem sweetheart, just glad you’re home safe. Don’t forget my offer okay- you come around anytime and I’ll show ya around with Steve.” he nodded, and you said the rest of your goodbyes, waving to everyone before Peter slammed the door shut.

The tires squealed as Bucky put the gas to the floor, leaving nothing but dust in his wake. “They were really nice Mr. Parker. I think they liked me.” you smiled, skipping over to the front porch steps.

“Yeah, a little too much.” he muttered under his breath, catching up to you in quick, long strides. You squealed as he picked you up with ease from behind, draping you over his shoulder and carried you up the steps, unlocking the front door.

“Put me down!” you whined, letting out a yelp as he smacked your ass.

“Shh. And stop your squirming, you’re not going anywhere sweetheart.” he huffed, kicking the door shut behind you, tossing his keys on the counter.

The lights were soft and dim as he carried you up the stairs, past the closed doors to the one left open.

His bedroom.

You continued to squirm- defying his orders and you felt that sting again, the loud smack! echoing through the room as you whimpered.

You bounced down on the bed, wide eyed as you scooted back towards the headboard, legs splayed open. Watching as his hand cupped your cheek, thumb stroking your cheek mindlessly.

“You still want me t’fuck you honey?” he asked softly.

You nodded. “Use your words baby. Tell me what you want.”

“I’d like you to fuck me Mr. Parker. Please.” you added quickly. His thumb brushed over your parted lips and you opened them quickly, allowing him access- your tongue swirling around his digit as his hand forced you to look up at him.

“You’re sure?”

You nodded quickly.

“I wanna be so gentle with you darlin. You’re so sweet and soft… I just wanna be so delicate.” he sighed softly. “Fuck….”

He didn’t say he was still a little pissed at Bucky for his aimless flirting- not that it was your fault of course. Didn’t mean he didn’t want to be possessive though. He was mature enough he knew you belonged to him- he didn’t need that reassurance.

But he had to make sure you knew.

“That's okay.” you whispered, drool trickling off his thumb as he pulled it away, smearing it across your cheek. He chuckled lowly.

“You’re so good to me baby. Do you think we could try something a bit different tonight?” he asked, and you nodded.

Anxiety and excitement quelled in your chest as he started to unbuckle his belt, and unzip his jeans. You pulled off your little scrap of fabric you called a dress, instinctively covering yourself. It was a habit you tried to break- but you couldn't help it.

“No no, baby, show me.” Peter insisted, hands removing yours to reveal yourself to him. The heat in his gaze sent shivers down your spine, leaving you firmly planted in the sheets.

“You’re so beautiful. The gods write poems about your beauty, my sweet girl.” he cooed, grabbing your wrists, holding them out in front of you, planting a kiss on your forehead.

Grabbing the belt, he started to wrap them around your wrists. “Is this okay?” he looked at your face for reassurance, finding it in your gentle eyes as you smiled.

“Will it hurt?” you asked meekly.

“No, no honey I would never hurt you. You know that right?” he sat down on the bed next to you, stroking your skin in soft, calming circles.

“I know Mr. Parker.”

You knew he was your savouir. He would never- could never harm you. You trusted him with your life.

He kissed you again, the belt jangling as it was bound around your wrists. You wiggled your fingers, though unable to move your hands- helplessly bound before him.

And you had never felt so safe.

“That too tight for ya darlin?”

You shook your head.

“No Mr. Parker.”

He smirked, fingers finding there way down to brush your inner thighs, tugging at the fabric that covered where he wanted you the most. You wiggled, moaning as he teased you, his touches soft yet electric.

“Shh baby, thats it. Daddys gonna take such good care of you. I’ve got ya.” he whispered, tugging off your thong, throwing it somewhere to the floor, watching your back arch and bow off the mattress from his quick brush of his finger along your slit.

“Awh baby she’s so wet f’me. I’ve barely even touched ya, sweet thing.” he cooed, and you whined softly as he toyed with you.

“Please-“

“Please what? Hmm? Use your big girl words.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

“Please fuck me, please. Please.” you begged, squirming.

“Such naughty language. Tsk tsk” he clucked his tongue, prying your legs wide open as you fought to keep your knees together.

“You want me to do what you said earlier? You want to be full?”

You nodded.

“You can’t waste any baby. No leaking, okay? Need my baby stuffed.” he smirked, lifting your legs up, draping them over his buff shoulders.

“Do you want gentle?”

You shook your head.

“Are you sure?”

You nodded.

“Whatever my sweet girl wants.” he smiled, brushing his cock through your soaked folds, tapping your clit with the head lightly. You didn’t know how much more teasing you could take.

“Mr. Park- OH!” you cried out as he slid home, his happy trail brushing your clit. He wasted no time, lifting your thighs up so half your body was off the bed, getting the deepest angle he could as his hips began to snap into yours.

You couldn’t help but cry out, words becoming mindless babbles as he pistoned into you, hitting a certain spot that had you seeing stars. “Yeah that’s it baby. Taking me so good, you’re such a good girl.” he cooed, admiring as your arms lifted, hands over your head in the restraints as you attempted to claw onto the headboard, failing miserably.

“Aww poor thing. You got nowhere to go, do you? Stuck here just taking daddy’s cock. You’re so fucking tight jesus christ…” he trailed off, lost in his head as you squeezed him tighter, nothing but the sounds of the slapping of his balls on your skin, the sounds of your strangled noises and moans.

He couldn’t get enough of them, he never wanted them to end. Your legs began to slip from their position, turning to jello and he wasted no time quickly flipping you around with ease slipping right back in.

You moaned at the new position, as he hit a different spot- slapping your ass gently. “Atta girl. Cmon baby, make yourself feel good. Or d’ya need me to do it for ya since you’re so fuzzy?”

You mumbled something unintelligible into the pillow that sounded like “Please”, and he didn’t bother trying to make sense of it as he gripped your hips harder.

“M’so closeeee…” you hissed, clenching him tighter.

“You gonna cream on my cock? Yeah? Cream on my cock baby, atta girl darlin.” he growled possessively as you came with a sharp cry, soaking his cock.

He always let you cum first. Always. He wouldn’t be a gentleman if he didn’t. You were his princess, he wanted you to feel so good you wouldn’t even be able to remember your name.

Peter showered you in praise, rubbing your back soothingly as your legs shook from your orgasm, toes curling against the sheets.

“You’re okay sweetheart. Shhh that’s it. Good girl baby.” He flipped you back over, wanting nothing more than to see your pretty face. It was one of the things that got him off the most, seeing your eyes roll back in your head, your mouth let out those pretty noises while it rounded to an o shape.

Your chest rose quickly, up and down as you managed to catch your breath, head fuzzy.

“You okay honey?” he asked gently, forehead creasing in concern as he soothed you.

He always took such good care of you. Somehow that turned you on even more.

“M’so good.” you mumbled, meeting his soft smile.

“Well good. Cause I’m not done with ya yet darlin. Spread those legs again baby.”

608 notes · View notes

morbidmorbid · 4 months

Note

Daryl finally reaching the point of the relationship where he can just surrender to the one he loves. Him, on his knees, face buried in your cunt just because he understands now just how much he loves you and can bare himself to you completely.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE ADD TO THIS!!! THAT PERSON HAS SINGLE HANDEDLY LEFT ME FERAL OMG!!!! i need that man, I think we ALL need that man 💳💥💳💥

i got uuuuu and sorryyy i’m so late to this i’m a slow writer plus life but here u go !! um this wasn’t supposed to be.. all of this but i can’t help myself. explodes.

18+

⁀➷

it was challenging to get daryl to sleep sometimes.

eyes peel open, gradual, slow. sleep doesn’t weigh heavy on your lids, hadn’t deemed the chance to for prolonged rest was difficult to come by. still, finding idleness was an almost unfamiliar casual occurring and while slow to get comfortable with, it wasn’t completely unwanted. so when your muscles ache and the death in your face suffocates you, you take the chance of a bed and a falsified home even if it comes to be fleeting.

daryl sits perched on the windowsill, cigarette alight.

his dislike for new or change wasn’t the case now, perhaps it was that constant uneasiness that came with the ignorance of another world. daryl, in this state of the world, didn’t kneel to forged comfort—he’d told you that not with his words but with the emptiness in alexandria where his presence should be. he’s recruiting with aaron, he’s on a run, he’s not here. you understand his reservation and while you often touched convictions with him, this was a bit different, this one felt close enough to right.

you don’t bother maneuvering much, only turning a curious head over in his direction. the tidied sheets beneath you ruffle in contact.

“so that’s why i couldn’t sleep.” you say and it’s light, a quip that gently prods. it’s a joke at him forgoing the spot in bed beside you for hard wood beneath him and smoke in his lungs.

daryl takes a drag and pinches it between fingers. inhale, eyes you, exhale, turns away. “right, sorry.” he apologizes for it in his seriousness, watches your eyebrows scrunch in hilarious disbelief and tips in: “looked pretty damn sleep to me, though.”

he hadn’t bothered to crack a window amidst his smoke and it infiltrates the air. it fills your lungs and keeps you from biting back at him that, yeah, you might’ve been somewhere drowned in a dream—whatever those conjured up to be in this time—and it’s an odd thing. to sleep, to fall in deep enough to become unaware of the real around you, and you stick daryl on that development. perhaps things wouldn’t be that simple or easy, there wouldn’t be the opportunity, the comfortability in letting go for a breath.

if not for him perched right where he sits against the glass and looming around you in your vulnerability, likely ignorant to the umbrella of defense he creates.

the sun is long gone and doesn’t burn against the glass like before you’d dozed, only now the enveloping darkness.

“when did you get back?” you ask. his crossbow leans dirty against the wall near the threshold, arrows bloodied. daryl hasn’t shaken the vest or his shoes, nor the dirt on his hands and wedged beneath his fingernails. you reckon thirty minutes, though daryl surprises you.

another drag. “sun was still shinin’ over ya.” he says. it’s been a long while, then. had he eaten? or had he’d smoked his few stale cigarettes and chewed on his thoughts in the stretch of time and that itself is an upsetting possibility.

you purse your lips and your locked fingers dance against eachother, thoughtful. while he seems as he always is, he isn’t. there’s a reason behind everything, the good and the bad, and this one fell between both. “can you come over here? i’m cold.” daryl was a cautious man with little trust and that was good in this world, but right here his hesitancy to pursue not only this false town but you as well was not as pretty as good reasons go.

but that was selfish thinking and unfair to daryl’s morals.

he watches you and years prior he’d been unreadable, but you’re accustomed and he looks like someone who doesn’t believe your words. “it’s sweatin’ balls in here.” he unnecessarily shoots back. daryl, always running behind with your jokes, or maybe he understands but shies away from what you’re asking. daryl was always someone who’d have to work back into accustoms if detached for a while, always slow to reciprocate—even though he so strongly did—lest you’re persistent.

“well, i’m shivering.” you’re saying as you make to rub two hands together to search for warmth. warmth you didn’t need for it already filled you, but a tactic is a tactic.

daryl scoffs a laugh that’s too quiet to catch, but it’s seen. he stubs out his cigarette then, marks the wood in an ugly manner. when he makes the small walk towards the bed, towards you, you’re meeting him halfway as you walk on knees to the edge.

he stops when you speak up. “you’re not getting in bed with all that shit on, are you?”

“was.” he confirms and shrugs and it’s humorous to see how serious he is, how he doesn’t grasp onto the issue.

“take it off, it seems uncomfortable.”

“i ain’t uncomfortable.”

“daryl.”

daryl could be good with orders—could be, a meticulous sort of arrangement—when he agreed with them. this was a mixed case whereas he seemed pulled between the two; the look in his eyes and the firm stance before you screaming i’m fine, i’m staying put. then the other end of the stick with what he eventually complied with in the form of slouched shoulders, guard down, capable of finding that same comfortability in your ways that strived for his growth that he does in his own ways.

still, he grumbles. “ya killin’ me.” and then his jacket goes, his vest, his worn stitched gloves.

you know that daryl prefers to be prepared no matter the situation, doesn’t like to be bared to the world for not even a breath and his heedfulness is commendable. though right here in the warm box that isn’t your inauthentic bedroom but your presence, you recognize his needs are a broad category and this is one of the many.

daryl needs his own relief to come back to despite the state of the world—everyone else has their own, whether in another or in themselves or in between, and daryl deserved just as much.

when he goes to indulge you, two hands coming down against the mattress, you dodge. “don’t forget your shoes, dar.” and he’s all eye contact before finally crouching down. “no shoes in bed, it’s barbaric.”

“guessin’ i oughta get my underwear off, right?” he smiles a small one, sarcastic. “beat ya to the punch.”

you shrug for the joke and he scoffs at it. he bends at the knees nevertheless, lightly hitting the floor and fingers reaching to shove themselves in the heel of his shoe. one goes and joins the pile, but before he can twin the other foot, you’re bringing a hand to his hair. he’s a bit sweaty there, strands darkened in consequence and instead of grimacing, your chest swells with pride, gratitude; daryl’s a fighter and it shows even in the smallest things.

“thank you, by the way. really.” you say when you notice he’s halted his movements. he doesn’t budge even when you move from strand to strand, fixing him, watching his forehead come into view. his brows and shoulders remain lax which is good, encourages you. had it been before he would’ve been a quick hand on your forearm with alarm, unfamiliar in the intimacy, hesitant.

he doesn’t look up yet. “thankin’ me for?” and against your palm he leans.

“i don’t know, everything—for fighting.” you elaborate and it’s then that he’s lifting his head, squinted eyes sharp.

daryl was always shy eyes when commended. he holds your gaze in increments now and you take the moment to let your hands travel. they’re slow and deliberate where they land along the expanse of his jaw and against the hairs on his face. daryl moves with you in whichever direction you think to turn him, and while it’s cute and certainly heavy intimate development on his part, you don’t call him out on it for he embarrasses easily and having him shy away now was not a good call.

“ain’t just me.” he finally says and since he doesn’t like spotlight, “it’s you, michonne, rick—“

“i know.” you cut in. daryl reads into your simple response almost immediately if the expression he holds is telling; a bit taken aback, slightly flustered, understanding. there’s something in your chest that screams pride when daryl comes to realize when you’re making things about him, when you’re specifically singling him out, when you’re picking out all of his goods and positives and displaying them before himself.

daryl preens under your touch. the touch of yours that continues to travel, dancing in his hair, brushing against the skin of his face, running knuckles over cheekbones and forehead wrinkles. every crevice, every bump different. it’s distracting for daryl, you learned prior, lures his mind to a standstill, tugs the words back down his throat. he’s typically left with little to say to you when you’re on him like this, instead speaks with his eyes of a solace he finds between the both of you.

“your hands.” he eventually comments.

“my hands?” although now under scrutiny, they don’t pause their exploration.

“warm. said you were freezin’.”

your lips purse then at his delayed reckoning, laughter at the tip of your tongue. it slips despite your efforts, low and loose, makes daryl squint in situational ignorance. at the prison, daryl had once complimented your laugh under and against the metal of the cell beds, had thrown a ‘nevermind’ in quickly after you’d cooed at him for it.

“well, of course they’re warm now.” you bring them to his neck now, tip of your thumbs caressing his ears. “still cold all over, though.”

and instead of questioning you further, instead of coming up to engulf you in a hug, daryl brings his face into your abdomen. it’s not a punch of air that you lose, but your ability to form coherent thoughts. it’s him not exactly nuzzling, but breathing steadily into the cloth of your shirt, soft inhale, soft exhale. this means something because it always means something.

daryl hides the sudden salacious fervor on his face in the shield that your body creates. it’s obvious, so obvious, because he’s strong and unmoving where you attempt to lift his head.

while it is sudden, the dots seem to connect—daryl, with his lack of space to ever position himself to submit, does so openly right now because there is an opening for it. while he so genuinely kneeled for his shoes, you picked up on the way his pupils dilated when he did find your eyes—ever so brief during those three second variables. it was then that you knew.

“everything okay?” you ask lightly. everything is okay, daryl is so evidently okay which is why he pursues this. you ask anyway, though. daryl says he likes verbal confirmation and reassurance from you and he’d be a hypocrite to not like for you to reciprocate.

“mhm.” it’s muffled against your body which begins to gradually curl around him, between your legs which have swamped him in. “just ain’t comfortable down here.”

“really? you aching already?” you retort with a low laugh.

daryl doesn’t say anything else, nor does he make to stand.

“dick’s hard.” is what he comes up with and it’s so sudden and not at all vague.

you’ve thought it to be the case, so it doesn’t surprise you much. it was apparent the moment he hide himself in what you’d call shame. shame that looked to only follow him in the structure of built up carnal strain that’d been canned inside of him. daryl behaved like he didn’t have a clue that he had it or how to exactly deal with it. when the relationship had sprouted into a much more personal manner, it was always you who’d ‘handle’ daryl even when he struggled finding it in himself to.

he’s bringing hands up and they’re situating themselves on your waist. his hold isn’t suffocating, but it’s tight, fidgeting where he tries to keep his energy levels even.

“if you want something, daryl..” you begin slowly, anticipating where this will take you both. where your hands still sit in daryl’s hair, you pull again and he finally gives way and holy shit.

“ask ya for it.” he finishes, and before you can ponder too long why he already looks so fucking out of it, he’s already beating you to it. “think i busted.” he grunts around the words, fingers twitching against you and he forgoes his hold to wipe the back of his hand against his lips. it looks to be a habit that has budded from his nerves which he strives to conceal.

“did you?..”

daryl curls his lips inwards, another habit, adjusts his knees on the floor. “well, it ain’t piss.“

“oh. you wanna clean up and come up here? we can just—“ daryl was weird with embarrassment, and while it was fun to poke and prod, he’d probably string himself dry thinking back on this, so you try to move it along—not mention it for a moment longer.

“nah.” i’ll stay here is what he says with his actions, bringing his face back to your abdomen, kisses through the shirt. despite his own interference daryl is still there; he shows that he still feels the sensual crave all within himself with the way he simply picks back up regardless of the mess in his pants.

admittedly, it brings a slight tremble down into the pit of your stomach.

you’re whispering out a light okay as he proceeds, hands at your waist shifting and bringing your shirt upwards, tidbits of flesh now exposed. it seems purposeful because he’s then all dry lips and scratchy facial hair against your skin, drinking you in, dirty hands squeezing where they can.

you’re calling out his name to which he responds to with a stronger aggression in action; oddly firm presses of his lips evolving into these tiny nips of teeth, pushing against you enough to send you back onto your palms.

rare were the moments that daryl’s usually subdued needs make such a sudden head. when he’s functioning one moment, high off plenty cigarettes in his normal, and the next he’s chasing you lewdly like he’s just always been without fornication—and he has.

daryl advances south, hands still at your waist, breath fanning over your pants. they’re of comfort with no zipper or buttons to act as a task to undo, so daryl gets to you easily. his hands shake a little as he hooks fingers in the waistband of your pants, not all nervousness but moreso an eagerness that it seems he struggles keeping at bay.

though despite this, he handles you with a certain gentleness and allows himself this moment of vulnerability, of exploration in a way that leaves you both bare in every sense.

your bottoms pull down and you help to kick them off and away.

“gentle.” you say when he stuffs a sweaty face directly into you, hands cupping your legs from beneath, spreading them enough to fit himself comfortably between. “i’m not as flexible as i used to be.”

“can’t tell.” he shoots back in his playfulness that is typically delivered dryly.

he shifts on his knees again, but doesn’t seem entirely too bothered, instead doesn’t spend another second without a tongue pressed wetly against you through the fabric of your garment. he laps at the cloth, grunts incoherencies, presses thumbs into your under thigh, tries to hide the not so subtle clenching in his abdomen. he’s hard again, straining and obvious, at the mercy of his body’s natural instinct to relieve the pressure by humping, rutting, fucking up into anything, searching for something.

“daryl, daryl.” you hiss when he tries to get his mouth on you whole down there, not stalling for anything. “shit, you—let’s take it slow.”

and you know in his current state it’s absurd to ask, he’s already gone.

but still, he hears you because he’s reluctantly pulling away, obedient.

“alright, now take them off, please.” you order, bringing a hand to his hair again. it creates a sort of stability for yourself, whilst for daryl it only tips him more towards the edge.

and since daryl runs on orders, he’s quick to move again with hands sliding you out of the underwear and down your legs. you assist with kicking them off and away, and daryl doesn’t give you a breath in between because he’s a wet tongue on you in an instant.

it’s like something shifts in him—like something breaks, gives way to a heavily chased after relief—seeing the way his shoulders slack. you gasp, feeling the pleasure ripple up your spine, sit hotly in your gut.

“look at you, oh my god.” you begin to taunt and it’s s bit broken off, but still holds its weight. “you look so right down there.”

daryl gives a groan in return, fingers squeezing in protest, but you know he believes it, too.

your chest fills with a breath when he pops off, and it’s beautiful how concentrated he seems with the task. for once, his cheeks tint an airbrush of pink, featherlight and detailing to you just how aroused he is.

to use emphasis, in his still state, you use the opportunity to reel him back in at the hair. it elicits something loud and ruined out of him—a moan, a whine almost. he breathes through his nose when he’s tongue and teeth and cheeks all over you again, and it makes your back arch. the sounds he produces alongside the wetness that you are has you bringing ankles to his backside, locking him in and daryl’s moans are muffled and slightly garbled in reaction.

“you’re gonna—“ cracked. “you’re so good for me, you’re gonna make me cum.”

at that, he pursues you heavier now. like he’s eager to taste you, like he wouldn’t miss it for the world, daryl brings a hand up to rub what he can’t get. it’s wet and nasty and lewdly noisy, and your moans alike. with him using two times the pleasure, it sends you over just as fast.

your eyes squeeze tight as your body racks with the aftershocks, and daryl is ragged breaths somewhere in the void and you’re not sure if it’s him coming as well or the hand deep in his strands has him that strung out.

the wound up muscles in your body release as does your hold on him, and you’re falling to your back against the mattress.

it’s a while before your eyes are peeling open again, head lulled a bit. daryl stands to his feet again at the foot of the bed, cracked bones and all.

“hey.” he starts quietly, haphazardly wipes his mouth. he hovers over you laid out on the bed, arms encasing your head and body heat transferring. “we alrigh’?” his concern etches outside of his tone and into his hot hand that now covers your cheek and ear. his thumb runs over your moist cheekbones and his eyes stick to yours like syrup.

you nod. “yeah.” you assure and watch his expression ease up. “i’m definitely alright. are you?”

he mimics your nod. “mhm.”

“don’t.” you say when he attempts to embrace you entirely. “shower. both of us.” and when he doesn’t respond—“shower. you came twice in your pants.”

daryl shoves his face in the crook of your neck then, ears red.

when the water eventually does come down on you both, it’s shameless in its lack of purity. daryl, despite the night, used a handjob from you underneath the stream before he’d grown shaky in the shoulders and grumpy in the tone, apprehensive in his age. (“ain’t built for another, you’re killin’ me.”)

and he would know himself best because he’s droopy eyes and clean hair against the pillows afterwards, sleep weighing him down. he’s still like he doesn’t feel your gaze, but squints open an eye when you speak.

“i lied about being cold. wanted you in bed.” you smile to contain laughter.

daryl scoffs. “mhm, well .. shit worked.”

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagines #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead #twd daryl #daryl x you #daryl x reader #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #twd imagine #norman reedus

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winstonsns · 3 months

Note

hiii i was wondering if you could do a dally fic where the reader is a part of the gang and her and dally are super close and the gang is making plans to go to the drive in but reader doesn't wanna walk so she asks dally for a piggyback (he obviously says yes cause he's down bad for her) but anyways, he gets super cocky by saying stuff like "askin' old dal for a ride, huh?" and then the gang starts teasing them for it (this is my first req ever so sorry if it's bad lmao😣)

baby i’m yours (request)

pairings: dally x reader

summary: you are too tired to walk to the drive in, so dally carries you

warnings: cussing

authors note: i looked forward to this request so this is one of my favorites i’ve ever been asked to make! thank you so much for requesting this. i decided to change the layout a bit but does it look ok? also sorry this is kinda short💗 i hope you enjoy

word count: 0.5k

you and the gang were sitting on the couch in the curtis house, bored out of your minds. you sat next to dally, your legs laying on his lap as you stared at the ceiling.

steve then asked, “hey, you guys know about that new movie that’s comin’ out today? it’s gonna be on in ‘round an hour, i’m goin’.” soda chimed in, saying he wanted to join too. soon, the others began to voice how they wanted to see the movie too.

everyone had spoken besides you, dally noticed and looked at you, placing his hand on your calf. “you gonna go too?” he asked, looking at you up and down.

you responded, “not sure, my legs are really sore… i was walkin’ around town with my friend the whole day.”

dally began to rub your calf in a caring way, he softly suggested, “how ‘bout i carry you or somethin’? that way you can still go, yeah?”

you thought for a second before nodding your head and thanking him. you and the gang had around twenty minutes to spare before you had to start heading over to the drive in.

you continued to watch the movie you were already watching, it ending around fifteen minutes later. two-bit suggested, “should probably head over now, it’ll take around… what, ten minutes? so then we’ll be like… half an hour early? is that right?”

the gang responded in different ways, nodding and talking. all of you stood up from the couch, stretching and groaning before walking out the door. dally turned to you as you stood up, taking a moment while you cracked your back.

“get on my back.” he says, bending down slightly as you jump on his back. he walks out as you rest your cheek on his back, tired and still wanting to rest.

“needed old dal to help you, huh baby?” he asked, teasing you. as your arms are wrapped around his neck, you let go to lightly push his back, mumbling, “shut up…”

he thought for a second, smirking as the gang was looking at the two of you. he decided to tease you again, “couldn’t do it on your own, huh? and out of all people, you decided to choose me to carry you. could’ve asked anyone else…”

“maybe i should’ve asked someone else… but you’re so strong, dal. so handsome, manly…” you tease, he blushes as the gang begin to tease him too.

“god, get a room, you two! don’t have to be all lovesick all the damn time.”

“why are you guys kinda cute together…”

“dally’s got the hots for y/n!”

“man, dally probably thinks he’s her knight in shinin’ armor!”

he rolls his eyes, still walking as the both of you are blushing, “shut the fuck up, man.”

#the outsiders x reader #the outsiders #winstonsns #dallas winston x reader #the outsiders dally #dally winston x reader #dallas winston fluff #dallas x reader #dallas winston imagine #dally winston #dallas winston

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weirdkpopgirl · 1 year

Text

Burden | Dream Reaction #11

Reaction: When their gf feels like a burden to them

Genre: Hurt/comfort

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, dark thoughts, mental health issues

Word Count: 3593k

Author's Note: This reaction was requested by an anon, which I am very grateful for. I feel like the theme for this reaction is pretty common in my stories. So I tried my best to come up with different scenarios and not sound too repetitive. Writing this story made me think of how all the members of NCT Dream are such sweethearts, honestly. I hope you guys like this and please feel free to request more! Thank you for reading ^ ^

~ ~ ~

MARK

Lately, there’s been this growing distance between you and Mark. You hated yourself for feeling this way because Mark was nothing short of the perfect boyfriend. He treated you with kindness and respect. He didn’t hesitate to show his feelings for you and cared for you in ways that no one else in your life has.

But you were someone who carried a lot of insecurities. Frequently, you found yourself pondering if you were truly worthy of Mark's affection. He was constantly busy with his back-and-forth schedules between 127 and Dream. Yet he still made the time to call you and ask how your day went. You felt like you didn’t deserve him.

One evening, you were engaging in a deep conversation with Taeyong at the 127 dorm. As the leader figure of the group, you sometimes found yourself confiding in the male when it came to concerns about your relationship. Unbeknownst to you, Mark happened to be present at the dorm that evening, and as he walked down the hallway, he overheard your voice drifting from the living room.

“I don’t know…Mark is so sweet and loving,” you spoke with uncertainty, as you held a couch pillow close to your chest.“Sometimes I can’t help but feel like I’m a burden to him.”

He observed Taeyong place a comforting hand on your shoulder. “(Y/n), you’re an amazing girlfriend and Mark cares about you a lot. You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself,” he tried to reassure you.

You let out a sigh, “I know…but I just can’t shake the feeling that I’ll never be good enough for him.”

Mark genuinely had no idea you were feeling this way. He’d stay up the rest night, replaying your words in his head. You were so important to Mark, and he couldn’t bear the thought of his life without you. Knowing that you felt so insecure saddened him deeply.

A few days later you received a text from Mark, asking you to meet him at the studio. The message felt somewhat random, but you headed to his company building, unsure of what to expect.

When you walked into the studio, Mark was sitting on the sofa with a guitar in hand. At first, you were confused until his fingers began strumming to a familiar tune.

“Oh, her eyes, her eyes make the stars look like they’re not shinin’. Her hair, her hair falls perfectly without her trying,” he sang softly. “She’s so beautiful, and I tell her every day.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, finding it almost surreal that Mark Lee was serenading you with a Bruno Mars song. But the charming smile on his lips didn’t leave as he finished the first verse.

“Yeah, I know, I know when I compliment her, she won’t believe me.

And it’s so, it’s so sad to think that she don’t see what I see.”

His fingers continued to strum the instrument as he stood up and walked up to you, singing the chorus with heartfelt emotion.

“When I see your face, there’s not a thing I would change. Cause you’re amazing, just the way you are.” He gazed into your eyes, singing the lyrics with such love and admiration. “And when you smile, the whole world stops and stares for awhile. Cause girl you’re amazing, just the way you are.”

Your hands were clasped over your mouth, and tears glistened in your eyes as Mark sang the rest of the song. The raw emotion in his voice and the sweet lyrics touched you deeply, making this moment feel incredibly intimate. The romantic gesture felt so sudden, making you wonder what brought this all on.

After the song finished, Mark gently took your hand in his. “(Y/n), I heard you talking to Taeyong hyung the other day. And I wanted to let you know that you’re never a burden to me.”

You felt a mixture of surprise and gratitude, touched by his openness and the effort he took to address your concerns. The love in his eyes reaffirmed that he meant every word, and a sense of comfort washed over you as he held your hand, grounding you in the present moment.

"I cherish every part of you," Mark continued, his voice unwavering. "In good times and challenging ones, we're in this together. You can always lean on me. I'm here to support you through everything."

His words were like a warm embrace, wrapping around your heart and reaffirming the love you shared. In that moment, you knew that you were truly seen and valued by Mark, and your heart overflowed with love for this incredible person beside you.

✎__________________________________________________________

RENJUN

While you were in the kitchen preparing lunch, Renjun was relaxing in the living room. His group had just finished their promotional activities for their latest comeback, leaving him exhausted from the busy schedule. However, you became a bit flustered when you attempted to reach for an ingredient on a top shelf but found yourself unable to reach it.

Sighing in frustration, you stole a glance at Renjun, who was lying on the couch. Perhaps he could lend you a hand with this predicament. But as you started to hesitate when you approached him. His arm covered his eyes, as his chest slowly rose up and down with each slow breath he took. You didn’t want to disturb him when he looked so peaceful.

Renjun’s eyes slowly opened as he watched you walk away. Curious, he stood up from the couch and quietly followed you into the kitchen. The corner of his lips upturned in a small smile when he saw you struggle to get something from the cabinet.

When you felt Renjun extend his arm to retrieve the ingredient for you, you nearly jumped and turned around in surprise.

Renjun looked at you endearingly and said, “You could’ve just asked me, (Y/n).”

“I know, but you were resting and I didn’t want to bother you,” you frowned.

In response to this, Renjun planted a soft kiss on your forehead. “You could never bother me, darling,” he reassured, brushing away a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

You blushed at his warm gesture and whispered a "thank you" before returning to what you were doing before. Renjun was truly a sweetheart, and his caring nature never failed to make you feel loved and appreciated.

✎__________________________________________________________

JENO

The day had been long and overwhelming. Honestly, you were just glad that it was almost over. All you wanted right now was to be in your boyfriend’s arms. However, when you entered the bedroom, you found Jeno engrossed in a videogame on his computer.

Approaching him quietly, you softly called his name. “Jeno-ssi.”

“Yeah, babe?” He responded, keeping his eyes focused on the screen in front of him.

You felt discouraged when you saw how concentrated he was on his game. Not wanting to bother him, you took a step back. “I—actually, never mind.”

Jeno caught the hesitance in your voice and spun around in his chair. Just as you were walking away, he reached to grab your hand.

“No, babe, what is it?” he asked, concern evident in his voice. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment now that you had his attention. Even if you tried to brush him off again, you knew he wouldn’t let you go.

“I was going to ask if we could cuddle. but I don’t want to distract you from your game,” you muttered, avoiding his gaze. You couldn’t help but feel silly for wanting something so seemingly small.

Jeno’s eyes softened at your words, and in the next second, you were being pulled into his lap. He loved nothing more than holding you in his arms and pressing kisses into your hair. The idea that you thought he would reject you, puzzled him.

“You can always ask me for cuddles, babe,” he whispered softly, his arms wrapped securely around you. “I love being with you, and I don’t want you to feel like it’s a bother.”

You slowly smiled and allowed your head to rest on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. His touch radiated so much comfort and warmth that it seemed to chase away any lingering insecurities or anxious thoughts from earlier. For the remainder of the night, he kept you in his lap as he played his game. Eventually, he retired from the computer and proceeded to cuddle you in the comforts of your bed. Jeno just loved being close to you and he wanted to ensure that you never felt like you were bothering him again.

✎__________________________________________________________

HAECHAN

Something didn’t feel right when Haechan entered your apartment. After sliding on the familiar gray slippers you always kept for him, he shuffled through the darkness of your living room. His feet padded down the hallway, guided by the faint glow of light escaping beneath your bedroom door. He paused outside the closed door. Apprehension filled him when he heard your shaky breathing.

Haechan swallowed nervously before raising his hand to the door and lightly tapping his knuckles against the wood. “(Y/n)?” he called out softly. “Is it okay if I come in?”

When he was met with an unsettling silence, his determination urged him to slowly turn the doorknob and gently push open the door. The second he stepped inside his eyes fell on you sitting at the foot of the bed with your head buried in your hands. His heart broke at the sight of your body visibly trembling.

Haechan knew you hated it whenever he found you in this state of vulnerability. When he was present, you often put on a brave face for him. You were always trying to maintain this cheerful facade, even when things were not okay. He understood the effort you made to protect him from your inner struggles. But the thought of you hurting weighed heavily on his heart.

With a small sigh, Haechan closed the door behind him. He noticed you tense up when he approached you cautiously.

“(Y/n),” he started to say, extending his hand towards you in a gesture of comfort.

But you shook your head vigorously and pulled away from him. “Please, just go away Hyuck. I don’t want to see me like this,” you pleaded.

His expression faltered at your attempt to push him away. He could sense the pain and he wasn’t going to let you face it alone.

“(Y/n), whatever it is…just let me be there for you,” he said.

But your head shook again, almost as if your brain was refusing to let Haechan’s words comfort you. Your fists repeatedly banged against your head, the pain momentarily numbing the overwhelming thoughts and emotions within you.

“I’m a mess, Haechan. I’m broken and damaged,” you cried. “I’m…I’m nothing but a burden right now.”

Haechan’s eyes widened with panic and he firmly grabbed your wrists to stop your self-destructive actions. “Hey, hey, don’t hurt yourself,” he murmured, trying to calm you down. “Who put those thoughts in your head, huh?”

As more tears cascaded down your cheek, Haechan loosened his grip on one of your hands and gently brushed away the tears with his thumb.

“Look at me, (Y/n),” Haechan whispered. He gently lifted your chin, locking your gaze with his.

“You are not a burden, nor are you broken or damaged,” he said, caressing your cheek. “Please don’t believe those lies your mind tells you.”

His voice was filled with a seriousness that resonated deep within your heart. The tears slowed and your body gradually stopped shaking. Once he was sure you wouldn’t resist, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a warm embrace. His chin rested atop your head, providing security, while his fingers tenderly stroked your hair.

“I know it’s hard for you to see yourself the way I see you,” he continues. “But trust me when I say you’re the strongest person I know, (Y/n).”

The outside world receded as his words sank in. Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and surrendered to his comforting embrace. No matter how frequently the inner demons resurfaced, Haechan remained steadfast in banishing them. Within his arms, you never felt safer.

✎__________________________________________________________

JAEMIN

Although you woke up this morning with a fever, that didn’t stop you from attending all your morning classes. It wasn’t that big of a deal, and you fully planned to spend the rest of the day in bed. However, when Jaemin sent a text asking if you wanted to come by his dance practice, you couldn’t turn him down. You also knew that if you told Jaemin you were sick, he’d get worried, and you didn’t want that.

Despite you not feeling your best, seeing Jaemin’s smile when you entered the practice room forced you to suck it up. The other members greeted you cheerfully, and their faces lit up when they spotted the bag of food in your hand.

“I missed you so much (Y/n),” Jaemin said. He spun you around in a hug that left you feeling a bit uneasy due to your headache. But you tried to push it off, not wanting to dampen the joyful atmosphere.

As you sat with the boys, you slowly started to realize that you weren't feeling any better. The fatigue and discomfort seemed to intensify, making it challenging to keep up with their energy.

Mark was the first to notice your lack of presence in the group. “Are you okay, (Y/n)? You look a little pale.”

“I—I’m fine. Just a little tired,” You mustered a weak smile as you gathered everyone’s trash to throw away. But as soon as you got up, the room started to spin.

Jaemin and the others stood panicked when they saw you lose balance. Luckily, Jaemin reacted quickly and caught you when your vision blurred out. The next thing you knew, you woke up a few moments later, finding yourself resting on Jaemin’s lap.

“Baby, why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?” he scolded lightly, stroking your hair. “You scared me.”

Seeing the genuine concern in his eyes made you feel a little guilty. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t want to be a burden to you,” you mumbled, slowly sitting up with Jaemin’s help.

Your boyfriend sighed and cupped your face in his hands. “No baby! You’re never a burden to me, especially when it comes to your health.”

Jaemin tried to convince you to go home, worried about your well-being. But you insisted on staying, wanting to support him. Throughout the rest of practice, he kept checking up on you. Despite some teasing and complaints from the other members about how disgusting and cute you guys were, you didn’t pay them much attention.

Seeing how much Jaemin cared for you and how attentive he was to your needs made you feel deeply loved and cherished.

✎__________________________________________________________

CHENLE

Gift-giving was Chenle’s love language, and it was something you still haven’t adjusted to. While you appreciated the thoughtfulness behind receiving flowers and stuffed animals from your boyfriend, you couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. You didn’t like him frequently spending money on you when he could save it for something more important. At the end of the day, you understood that this was Chenle’s way of expressing his love and you didn’t want to diminish that.

One afternoon, the two of you were at an outdoor mall on a date. The initial plan was just to do some window shopping. But there was a clothes shop place that Chenle suggested you guys check out. The two of you walked around the store for a bit and there was a dress that caught your eye. It was a simple plaid black dress adorned with white sleeves. The classic design exuded an elegance that matched your fashion style.

However, your interest was forgotten when you picked up the price tag. There was no way you were going to spend so much money on one dress. Chenle noticed your eyes widening and followed your gaze to the dress you were looking at.

“Oh, that would look so cute on you,” he remarked.

You smiled sheepishly and let go of the fabric. “Yeah, but it’s pretty expensive. I don’t think I should buy it.”

Chenle smiled and swung his arm around your shoulder. “Who says you’re buying the dress? Don’t worry baby, I got you.”

A frown immediately tugged at your lips. The idea of him paying already made you feel bad. Even if the dress was nice, you were perfectly fine with not having it.

“Chenle, you don’t have to do that. I’m not worth this,” you said quietly. The carefree expression on Chenle’s face turned to one of confusion.

“What do you mean you’re not worth it?” he asked. “You’re worth every cent of my money and love.”

“But I don’t want to burden you,” you emphasized. “It’s just a dress Chenle, I don’t need it.”

Sighing softly, Chenle cupped your cheeks into his hands, making sure you were looking into his eyes. “Listen here future Mrs. Zhong, you are not a burden or anything of the sort. You’re worthy of anything in this world and I will prove it to you at any cost.”

His words caused heat to rise to your cheeks. But when you lowered your head in embarrassment, Chenle brought your face back up and kissed you. He couldn’t care less about the nearby customers who were now staring at you two.

Feeling even more flustered, you pulled away in surprise. “Zhong Chenle, you can’t just kiss me in front of all these people!”

“Well if you don’t want me to kiss you again, you’re going to come with me to check this out.” Your boyfriend smiled mischievously and took the dress off the rack.

Any more protests from you went ignored, as the boy was already taking your hand and leading you to the checkout area. Chenle was definitely something else, always managing to surprise you with his spontaneous and caring nature. But you were grateful to have such a loving boyfriend. You could always count on him to make you feel like the most special girl in the world.

✎__________________________________________________________

JISUNG

He was just roaming around your apartment as you were in the kitchen making instant ramen for the two of you. It was Jisung’s second time visiting, and he wanted to become more familiar with your living space. He wandered into the bedroom, instantly picking up on how everything was so neat and tidy. He smiled when he spotted a framed picture of him on your nightstand. Seeing the photograph there filled him with warmth, knowing that you held him close to your heart.

However, he also noticed a small black journal on your nightstand. Curious, he picked up the object and opened it absentmindedly. His eyes quickly widened in horror as he read the top words on the second page.

It was a list of the things you didn't like about yourself. His heart sank as he saw pages filled with bullet points, each one representing the insecurities you carried within. Dread filled him as he skimmed over the reasons that varied from your looks to what you perceived as flaws.

What hurt him the most was the last one on the bottom, which said: “I am a burden to everyone around me.” The weight of those words hit him like a tidal wave, leaving his heart heavy with a mix of sadness and anguish.

“Jisung what are you—” You entered the room, wondering what he was doing in here.

Your body froze when you saw the notebook clutched tightly in his hands. The sight immediately filled you with panic, uncertain of how much he read.

Jisung glanced up, looking like he was about to cry. “(Y/n), do you really think you’re a burden?”

The sadness in his tone only confirmed your fears and caused a wave of vulnerability to wash over you. You took a hesitant step closer, wanting to reach out and comfort him, yet also feeling exposed and uncertain of how to respond. But when tears began to spill out of Jisung’s eyes, you rushed to his side.

“Baby I—” You tried to say something, but the words caught in your throat.

"Was there something I did or said to make you think that?" He fretted, his brows furrowing with genuine concern.

Shaking your head, you wrapped your arms around him. “No, you didn’t do anything Jisungie. It’s just me that’s the problem.”

Hearing your confession only made him feel worse. The realization that you had been struggling with these feelings of, and he didn’t know killed him. As your boyfriend, he felt responsible for not being there to show how much you meant to him.

“(Y/n), I…I love you so much,” Jisung cried, his voice muffled against your shirt. “You’re never a burden to me or…or anyone. Please don’t think that way.”

You slowly exhaled, offering soothing pats on the boy’s back as you tried to comfort him. Seeing how deeply upset Jisung was about this surprised you. It took a few minutes for you to get him to stop crying. You rocked him back and forth in your embrace, pressing kisses into his hair and whispering apologies. Once he calmed down, you promised Jisung you’d work on being less critical of yourself and be more open about your feelings with him.

✎__________________________________________________________

#nct #nct dream #nct dream imagines #nct dream reactions #nct dream scenarios #nct dream x reader #mark #renjun #jeno #haechan #jaemin #jisung #chenle #nctzen #czennie #kpop #hurt/comfort #nct dream angst #7dream

655 notes · View notes

starryylies · 6 months

Note

What about a shy Simon trying to ask out reader👀

SHY! SIMON ASKING OUT READER

Omg simon tryna ask reader out is sooooo cuteeeee, I can imagine him being all shy and awkward trying to confess,

like a pitbull being scared of a little kitty

His voice cracks as he tries to talk to you, creating an awkward silence between you two before you let out a small chuckle and smile up at him

He swears he loses a year each time he sees you smile, he starts blushing but he made sure to ask you at night so you don’t see him mess up.

He slowly lets out a stammering statement, his voice modulating like a 14 year old boy

“Uh so lovie, been wantin to tell ya this, I mean it’s not really me telling you technically,

wait I mean yea it’s more of a question but still” he awkwardly phrases as he shrugs his hands

“But jus’ wanted to tell ya you look real beautiful tonight princess, nobody shinin’ brighter than you”

Fuckfuckfuck simon realises he just totally went off point

And SHITTT he stayed silent for a whole ass minute after saying that thus making the atmosphere with pretty odd

his inner monologue is scolding him for being such a dumbass :(

But your voice breaks through those of his head

Your sweet voice chirping, cutting the weird silence

“You look pretty too sisi” you smile

He lets out a soft smile accompanied with a soft and hearty chuckle.

He turns around thinking there’s no point confessing since it will be pretty tough to make his point now,

And what matters most is that you smiled and at him at that, so yea he doesn’t mind.

But that chain of thought is broken when you yell across the corridor

“M craving popcorn right now, take me to a movie si?”

And when he turns around he sees the corners of lips turned upwards smiling at him

The same way he smiles at you.

333 notes · View notes

randomgurl2326 · 6 months

Text

Silver Springs

Luke Castellan x Hecate!reader

Summary: Luke cheats on Y/N and she finds out before their band’s biggest gig ever. Y/N looks back on all the obvious signs

Warnings: mean!Luke, toxic!luke, gaslighting, cheating, mentions of cheating, overall shitty writing

A/N: This was originally going to be very different. I liked the concept but I think i did a very shitty job on this. Definitely not my best. Anyway, thank you for reading and feedback is ALWAYS ALWAYS appreciated. Love you guys

You could be my silver spring

Blue-green colors flashin'

I would be your only dream

Your shinin' autumn ocean crashin'

This summer was the worst yet. Sure, your mother had claimed you. Sure, your siblings were nice. Sure, you had the most recognized band in Long Island Sound. Sure, you had the best—

Oh, wait, not anymore. You no longer had the “best” “most caring” boyfriend. What a load of shit. The Hermes boy had cheated on you for almost three whole months without you knowing. In all honesty, it was so fucking obvious. The one time you chose to believe the good instead of letting your head telling you the “lies” he always said it fed you.

Again, what a load of shit.

Don't say that she's pretty

And did you say that she loved you?

Baby, I don't want to know

You were in the dressing room waiting for Clarissa right before your band—Half Of Us—played the biggest gig of your minuscule lives.

Clarissa comes barreling in through the door as you hum and bite your nails, “I need you to forget everything that has happened this summer and sing your heart out like you never have before because there are about a thousand people out there.”

You grab the girl’s shoulders, “hey, hey, calm down. Nothing’s happened and nothing is going to happen, okay? I need you to sit and calm down.” You lead her to the couch in the corner of the dressing room and hand her a water bottle to drink.

Clarissa thanks you and takes a sip but still pants a little as she speaks, “Okay, okay. I may have gotten a little ahead of myself there. I’m good… Yeah, I’m good now.” She lets your words sink into her and she frowns. “Wow, I totally would’ve thought you would’ve freaked out once he told you. I mean, what Luke did to you-“

Your eyebrows cinch as you think, “wait. What did Luke do to me?”

“Wait, wait, he hasn’t told you? He told me-“ Clarisse curses. “That bastard! He told me he told you!”

You yell out confused and angry, “CLARISSE! What did Luke do?”

Her face drops as she looks into your eyes and tells you. “Sweetie- I don’t know-“

You like her straight into her eyes, “tell me.”

She sighs holds onto your arms. “Luke’s been cheating on you,” her words come out rushed, “with Shane.”

That fucking Aphrodite bitch.

So I'll begin not to love you

Turn around, see me runnin'

I'll say I loved you years ago

Tell myself you never loved me, no

Don't say that she's pretty

And did you say that she loved you?

Baby, I don't want to know

Oh no

And can you tell me was it worth it?

Baby, I don't want to know

As you sit there with Clarisse and taking it in Luke and the boys come in howling and laughing. Once the three of them look at you and your heartbroken face they quickly quiet down.

Chris is the first to speak and try to break the silence, “woah, what’s with the bum fest—“

Before he can finish you get up and rush into Luke and push him up against the wall, “what the fuck is wrong with you, huh!?!? I loved you with everything I had! Everything! And you ruin it all for some fucking bimbo who bats her eyelashes at you!?!? Answer me!”

The boys are all quiet as you hold Luke by his shirt against the wall and Clarisse who’s looking proud.

When he doesn’t answer you tell again. “Answer me, Luke Castellan!”

“Yes, okay! I cheated on you! Is that what you wanted to hear?” He practically roars at you as you yell. You let go of shirt and push him.

Your eyes sting as tears pool at your waterline. You have to push them back and will your voice not to break as you speak, “I bet she was real pretty, huh? Let me guess, she told you she loved you after the first time you fucked her and you let her believed you did. Was it fucking worth it, Castellan? Breaking my heart just to hurt hers next? You know what, I don’t even want to know!”

“Listen, Y/N, it meant nothing,” he tried to speak but you shut him up with a glare and point right in his face. “Two months means nothing? Oh well, loving you must’ve meant nothing, Castellan. Based on that logic, you never even knew me!”

You choke down a sob as you let your hand rip and look up, eventually looking straight into his dark eyes, “other than anything band related, I never want speak to you. I never want to see you. I never want you hear from you. I don’t even want to smell you! Is that understood?”

You back up from the boy and grab a bottle of day-old Jack Daniel’s and chug as you see the two other boys looking at you wide-eyed, “don’t even get me started on you two.”

You walk out the door as your guys’ manager was coming in to tell you to get on stage.

Oh no

And can you tell me was it worth it?

Baby, I don't want to know

Time cast a spell on you, but you won't forget me

I know I could have loved you

But you would not let me

Time cast a spell on you, but you won't forget me

I know I could've loved you, but you would not let me

All five of you walk out onto the meticulously set stage and wave out to the crowd. Clarisse goes to stand behind her keyboard, Beckendorf sits on his drum stool, Chris stands on the lady picking up his bass, Luke—in his downtrodden glory at being caught—slides his guitar strap on, and you in your almost drunk state goes to the mic stand.

Your flowy cream-white sleeves drape around your arms as you take ahold of the mic stand and speak into the mic, addressing the roaring crowd, “how’s everybody tonight?” Your words don’t even slur and the fans roar even louder. “Alright, alright. Not so bad, you laugh a little, “y’know, tonight is a very special night. Yes, a very special night indeed… But, before i get into that, i have a question for you all: have any of you ever been cheated on?” The crowd roars on in agreement. “So, a few of you? You guys know how that feels like right? Your heart starts beat in’ fast and you feel like the whole relationship was a lie?” You look to Luke who’s already staring at you, “well, this new song is all about how that feeling feels. Everybody, this is Silver Springs…”

The crowd roars at the sound of a new song and Clarisse plays the opening chord on her keyboard as you look at Luke.

I'll follow you down 'til the sound of my voice will haunt you

Give me just a chance

You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you

Flashback One

“Luke, can’t you just understand how I feel for a second? I mean, seeing my boyfriend, that I love flirting with another girl-“

Luke takes your shoulders and his soft eyes make you melt as he looks at you with such tenderness, “sweetheart, nothing is going on with Shane and I, okay? She just needed help with some stuff in the Aphrodite cabin. Selena was there, okay? You know I love only you. C’mere.”

He leads you into his arms in a tight embrace and your insecurities melt as you close your eyes and sigh, “I know, I know. I’m just being silly, Luke. I love you.”

He rubs your back and kisses your forehead, “I love you, too, sweet girl.”

What a fucking lier.

Flashback Two

You and Clarisse are sitting by the lake sharpening daggers as she speaks up, “we got a new Aprhodite camper today. Did you see?”

You smile, “yeah, Shane I think? She seems nice.”

Clarisse laughs, “yeah, other than her totally looking up Luke today when he was showing her around. She seemed so nice when she was trying to pull the moves on your boyfriend.”

Clarisse and you laugh a little at her joke, “Luke wouldn’t do anything with her. I mean, he loves me. He wouldn’t do that. Even if she is really pretty.”

The Ares girl gets serious and nudges your shoulder, “hey, you’re really pretty, too. I mean, come on. It’s Luke we’re talking about here. That boy follows you around like a little puppy.” She puts her hands up and looks up at you mocking the way Luke looks at you, “‘oh please, master Y/N. What do you need me to do next?’ That boy is down bad.”

You laugh and shove her, “he does not! Chris is worse than him.” You copy the girl’s earlier actions, “‘Saint Clarisse, I will win all of your affections. Tell me what I must do!’ He’s a hound, Clarisse.”

“I know, we just attract pathetic men.”

“That’s for damn certain.”

Oh, how right you were.

Flashback 3

You were sitting on your bed in the Hecate cabin waiting for Luke to come and pick you up for your three month anniversary date. He scrambles in thirty minutes late looking disheveled.

“Pretty girl, I am so, so sorry. I got a little sidetracked but I got everything ready, and I got cleaned up-“ you cut off his ramblings with a short kiss and pull back as you taste tangerine gum—he hates tangerine.

You decide to put that thought away and calms his soul-called nerves and smile. “Hey, you’re hear now. That’s all that matters. It’s our anniversary. I can’t wait to see what you planned.”

Luke leads you out of the cabin, “you’ll love it pretty girl. I love your dress…”

Tangerine, huh?

Flashback Four

Luke is grabbing onto his head as he talks, “y’know, sometimes I feel like you jealousy and insecurity are too much. We were having a nice time until you decided to bring up Shane-“

“You mean the girl you’ve been hangin out with more than your own girlfriend? Yeah, my jealousy is totally the thing coming between us right now, Luke.” You cross your arms and clench your jaw as you look at Luke with a piercing glare.

He sighs and groans, “she was trying to help me figure out the best gift to give you for your birthday! She isn’t here all year, so I had to ask her before the summer ended! Gods, you had to ruin the surprise, didn’t you?”

You look down and feel a pang in your chest as you leer into your boyfriend’s chocolate eyes with un-needed guilt, “I-I’m sorry, Luke. I didn’t know… Gods, I’m the worst. She was trying to help you get a present for me. Luke, I’m sor-“

Before you can finish he takes you into his big, warm arms, “it’s okay, I forgive you. Next time don’t make such a big deal, okay? She was helping me. I love you, and only you.” He kisses your forehead.

You nod, “I’m sorry. I love you.”

Help? Yeah, she helped him.

Present

As all those memories flood back, so do the feelings from each one of those memories. You close your eyes as you clench the mic; pouring your soul out for each and every one of these people to hear. Eventually, you open yours again and look to Luke who’s no longer looking at you, but to the front row.

You look to who or what he’s looking at as see-

Of-fucking-course it was Shane.

Was I such a fool?

I'll follow you down til' the sound of my voice will haunt you

Give me just a chance

As the song goes on you walk about the stage and jam out with Chris, Charlie, and Clarisse. You go back-to-back with Chris as he fires off a deep riff on his bass, you hang with Charlie as he beats away on his drums, and you sit down with Clarisse as she slowly plays her keys.

And as you finally get to Luke you sway with him and smile at him and he smiles back, believing that you “came to your senses” and forgave him. You lean in to his lips and swerve at the last second; whispering, “we’re fucking over you manwhore. Get over your fucking self.”

You walk away from him—almost strutting—putting the mic back on the stand just in time to look back at him—smiling—and sing the final lyrics that would haunt him for years to come, resonating throughout the arena as her voice wrapped around his heart. Squeezing like a vice.

“I know I could've loved you, but you would not let me… You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loved you”

#what is this #this was kinda shit #luke castellan #pjo tv show #pjo x reader #pjo #pjo series #luke castellan x you #x reader #luke castellan x reader #angst #mean!luke Castellan

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