#for brooklyn maybe 15 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

myfictionaldreams · 5 months

Note

Hear me out! How about Mafia Steve rogers having hate sex with reader because they were having an argument and reader had attitude. He fucks her like i need to dicipline you, you little brat and she is calling him daddy.

I'm Bored! // Mafia!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

A/N: Thank you for the request! ♥ I hope you like this!

Side Note: This isn't a part of the mafia!stucky universe, just wanted to clarify that lol

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dom/sub, rough sex, spanking, ripping clothes, degradation, praise kink, size kink (!), desk sex, creampie, edging, overstimulation, daddy kink, pretty behaviour, slight misogyny/stereotypes, hairpulling, fingering, exhibitionism, slight subspace

Words: 2.6k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

“I know what you’re doing”. Steve slammed his phone onto the desk as his nostrils flared, eyes glaring with an intensity that any sane person would have backed away with their head lowered in submission.

It seemed you had a death wish today as you smirked and continued to piss him off, wanting the exact reaction you were receiving from your Mafia boyfriend. Stomping your foot and clenching your fists, you continued in a shrill, high-pitched tone for an added effect that you knew would drive him into the depths of mental hell. ”I’m not doing anything! I just feel so trapped in this stupid box of an office!”

As you so politely described, this stupid box of an office was an executive suite in one of the skyscrapers that towered over Brooklyn that he could view from the ceiling-to-floor windows. The office had to be the biggest in the building, with enough space for his desk, sitting area, kitchen and a vastly sized table to fit at least 15 people for meetings specified for the mafia boss.

And yet, here you were, moaning about the size, knowing that there was nothing more extravagant or luxurious than his office. In your defence, it had been a long day of being out of the office, as Steve had to travel for hours across his city to check the quality of stolen goods and meet with many influential people with the hopes of selling said stolen items. It hadn’t been a particularly trying day for the most part, but you quickly became bored, especially as you had to remain quiet during these meetings.

From an outsider's perspective, you were meant to be the pretty timid girlfriend of the mafia boss. His eye candy. There to hang on his arm and warm his lap and nothing more. In reality, he had wanted you there so that you could be more involved in the gang, understand how the meetings work, and contribute to decisions once back to the office if you deemed the people trustworthy enough to work with.

The staying quiet aspect of your role was also just for your safety. If you talked, that was an open invitation for the powerful individuals to talk back, and you weren’t ready to be involved in those sorts of conversations just yet. Therefore, you were more than happy to remain Steve's silent, pretty girlfriend.

Today, however, you were feeling antsy from the lack of talking, stiff from sitting for so long and needy for something a little more exciting than hand-holding or sitting on his lap. Especially now you were in the comfort of the office and could really rile Steve up. Maybe you were being a brat, but you were so bored and frustrated you wanted to get your heart pounding and some sort of relief, so pissing Steve off was the best option for this.

“Stop trying to take your clothes off-! Fucks sake. Everyone out!” Steve ordered the guards stationed by the door, and they promptly followed his directions as they left with a slam of the door.

You pause, with one of the straps of your dress halfway down your arm, turning to face him directly with a wicked smile on your face. Oh, he was pissed, verging on genuinely being angry with the way the vein on his neck was bulging and throbbing.

“I hate when you get like this. We were having a nice fucking day, too”, he demands whilst beginning to remove his tie and jacket. You knew he didn’t mean it; he always loved being able to dominate you just as much as you loved being an irritating brat and getting on his last nerve.

Your cunt pulses in desire watching him closely, eyes blazing with excitement as you bite your lower lip to try and hide the unmistakable grin. “Was it a nice day for me or for you, Steve? Because it’s been a boring day for me. All I’ve been doing for hours is standing there and looking pretty. Do you know how boring that is? I want to live a little! My clothes feel too tight, too claustrophobic. I want to be free!”

Steve doesn’t say anything, but he does glare as he begins to undo the cuffs of his white shirt, rolling up the sleeves to reveal the muscular forearms beneath. It was only as he rounded his desk that you began to back up, taking a quick step backwards, but they were no match to the giant strides of his long legs as he was in front of you in a matter of seconds. His chest bumped into yours, forcing you to continue backwards until your back was flush against the cool glass windows.

Steve towered above you, even with your black heels adding a few inches to your height; he always seemed to be a gargantuan man, adding warmth to your core. Looking up at his glaring face through your lashes and biting your lip, trying to look as innocent as possible.

“Think you’re being cute by acting like this? Like a brat with all that attitude?” he snaps, reaching up to wrap his massive hand around your throat, not squeezing as such but just so that you stayed still and he could feel the thump of your racing heartbeat beneath his fingertips.

“I think I’ve got the response that I wanted, so yes, I think I am being cute”, you say confidently whilst reaching for the bulge in his slacks to show just how turned on he was, squeezing it tightly and making it throb.

Steve’s eyes drop to your hand as he subtly thrusts into your palm, but as he looks back towards your face, you know he has something planned as it is his turn to smirk. “You said your clothes felt tight. Well, let’s change that Princess”.

The hand around your neck lowers to your hip, turning you around so your front is pressed against the window, forced to look out over the city of Brooklyn. Before you could even look over your shoulder to see what was next, your body was shaken as Steve gripped the left and right side of your dress and pulled, effortlessly ripping the red dress down the zip so it fell from your body. You were left in only your thong and heels, wholly exposed to the city below.

Steve’s hand is then suddenly in your hair, pulling your head back against his shoulder and forcing your chest to push up, your nipples perking from being pressed against the startingly cold glass.

“Does this make you feel any more free? You know I love it when people watch me touch you. Well, now we’ve got the whole city watching Princess”, Steve whispers as he runs his nose down your neck.

You shiver as he nudges the sensitive spot just below your ear, “Yes, Steve-”.

The hand in your hair tightens, “Excuse me?”

“Daddy”, you correct yourself quickly, “Yes, Daddy, thank you for making me feel more free and showing me off to everyone”.

He hums to himself, “I think it’s about time I should how to be more grateful and show a little less of this attitude you seem to have”.

“Yes, Daddy”, you say submissively, mind reeling with the anticipation and thrill of what's to come.

“Count for me and safe words to be used if needed”, he mentioned before continuing.

With one hair remaining in your hair, he presses your face against the window, not hard enough for it to hurt but also to make sure that you keep it in place. His other hand pulled back on your hips, perking your arse out for him. You were only vaguely aware of his plan as you heard the swatting of his hand through the air before the stinging impact as he spanked your arse cheek.

You jumped at the contact, but he always started light, not wishing to actually cause you harm and so that you could make it through the usual ten counts before checking in.

“One, thank you, Daddy”, you say sweetly, watching the glass in front of you fog up at your heated breath. With each spank, you made sure to count and thank him. Even though you’d been a brat, when he finally did snap like he was now, you were always on your best behaviour, taking whatever punishment he deemed necessary.

His palm connected with both of your cheeks, ensuring they both had equal attention and that the areas were hot to the touch and somewhat sore but not enough to bruise. You enjoyed the rough treatment so much that you were rolling your hips into his palm, feeling the wetness coating your thong and spreading over your labia.

“Ten, thank you, Daddy”, you softly say, your eyes closed and feeling the world becoming fuzzy around the edges as the mixture of pleasure and pain caused the hormones in your head to feel like you were experiencing your own personal high.

This was the reason why you always enjoyed pissing him off with a little bit of attitude and bratty behaviour; being drawn into a subspace mentally from the punishments was like a drug to you, one that Steve was more than happy to pull you into.

Overwhelming pleasure suddenly burst through your burning core as Steve pulled your thong string to the side and shoved two thick digits into your pussy, stretching you thoroughly.

“You’re so wet, such a desperate little slut aren’t you” he taunts whilst rocking his fingers in and out, stretching them every so often to prepare you for what you really want.

You stick out your bottom lip in a pout whilst rolling your hips in time with his fingers as you whine, “Only your slut though, Daddy”.

Steve kisses your naked shoulder, showing some sort of soft intimacy, “That’s right, you’re just my little slut. Now how about you show me just how good you are for me and go and bend over my desk and spread your legs”.

The hand in your hair loosens enough that you can wiggle free and stumble over to the desk, kicking off the heels as if they were not helping the wobbly sensations in your legs. Steve was one step behind and reached around you to shove the papers cluttering his desk off and onto the floor. With the extra space, you could happily bend forward, resting your chest on the desk and widening your stance as Steve begins to unbuckle his belt.

Watching over your shoulder, you admired the lustful gaze of his bright ocean-blue eyes, the drag of his tongue along his bottom lip as he looked as if he wanted to eat you right then and there.

“Do you like what you see?” you asked whilst wiggling your hips invitingly to him.

Steve tries and fails to hide the smirk on his face. Reaching forward, he rubs with each of your arse cheeks, squeezing the sore areas until your mewling and begging for something more. As he stepped closer and continued to hold the string of your thong to the side, he looked you directly in the eyes as he spoke lowly, “I just want you to remember that you wanted me to get this riled up with that smart mouth of yours. Acting bratty has its consequences”.

Opening your mouth to try and sass him another way, all that came out was an exaggeratedly obscene moan, your eyes rolling back as Steve’s cock thrust deep within your cunt in one mighty thrust. The movement caused you to rock onto your tiptoes, having to push further onto the desk as the tip of his cock pressed against your cervix, filling you completely. The warm, wet walls of your pussy fluttered and squeezed around the penetration, trying to milk him already, clinging to him within an inch of your life.

Your fingers wrap around the edge of the desk above your head, holding on to it as Steve withdraws. Half of the length inside of you retreated, only to slam back into you, causing your hips to bump into the table with the strength put behind the movement.

“Faster”, you demand as your forehead rests on the rest, eyes closing to focus on the overwhelming pressure in your core.

However, the sassy tone you used was not appreciated by the man nearly splitting you in half with his cock as his hand once again delved into your hair to pull your head back, causing a startled scream to replace the moans.

“You don’t get to decide how fast I fuck you, Princess”.

With your head pulled back in this position, you were now having to stare at the wall behind his desk, which had a narcissistic painting of him, given to him as a joke by one of his employees. Now, however, to your delight, you were able to stare up at his handsome face as he fucked you with deep, tauntingly slow thrusts.

With this pace, you could feel every single inch dragging along your sensitive walls, causing them to spasm and tighten on instincts rather than just taking a quick hard fuck that left you forgetting to breathe and seeing stares. The way Steve currently had you was more overstimulating and had your breaths coming out in short huffs.

Steve, it seemed, knew every little moan and hitch of breath that your body took, understood at which degree of tightness your cunt squeezed him in with just how close you were to orgasm. His hips stopped thrusting as you could have sobbed as that beautiful sensation faded into a light buzz rather than an overwhelming euphoria.

“Please- Please Daddy, I…I… I’m sorry for my attitude, Daddy” You managed to find the right words, internally praising yourself for coherently saying what Steve wanted to say as currently, the only words running through your mind were, ‘fuck me harder, Daddy’.

“That’s all I wanted you to say, Princess”, he praises lightly as one hand remains holding onto your hair and the other slips between the desk and your mound so that two of his fingers can massage your clit.

The burst of fire that pulsed through you was powerful, knees wobbling and whines turning into incoherent begs of the word ‘yes!” as Steve finally began to fuck you at the fast pace you’d been hoping for.

You came so quickly that the breath rushed from your body, and you became light-headed from the overstimulation. He doesn’t stop, though; he just continues to hold you in place, fucking you and playing with your clit until you came a second time.

Thankfully, Steve did too, grunting desperately as his hips snapped up one more time, and wetness came flooding out of your cunt as his seed seeped out and down your thighs. Carefully, he removed his fingers from your sensitive bundle of nerves and gently rested your face on the desk whilst massaging your scalp and kissing along the back of your shoulder blade.

As he moved up towards your neck, you sighed in contentment, turning your face to the side so that he could gently kiss your cheek and you could reach around to run your fingers through his short, blond hair.

“Get your frustrations out?” he asks quietly and softly into your ear.

Nodding your head, you blink tiredly back at him, “Yes, thank you. But now, I have no clothes, and I can’t walk”.

Steve chuckles against your skin, a beautiful sound that has your toes curling again, “Well, I did warn you”.

#mafia!steve rogers #mafia steve rogers #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x brat reader #steve rogers one shot #marvel smut #marvel one shot #mine*#steve rogers

542 notes · View notes

sashaisready · 2 months

Text

The Blood Pact (completed)

Bucky Barnes Vampire AU x Female Reader

Reeling from a bad break-up, you're desperately trying to find a new place to live but the Brooklyn rental market is a complete nightmare. You take a chance on an intriguing newspaper ad and enquire about a room in a shared house, where you'd be living with two mysterious men. The catch is that they want something other than your money for you to pay the rent...the one thing they don't have

(This is reposted from my Wattpad/ao3 accounts).

Hello! This is a vampire AU set in present day in Brooklyn. Just a heads up that vampire Bucky is kinda an asshole in this one, not always as nice to reader as he should be - so prepare for some angst! He does soften up, though. Maybe a little enemies to lovers sprinkled in there, my fave.

Peter Quill is also reader's terrible ex, so he's not his usual charming self! Apologies if he's your fave. But Steve is very sweet and offsets the meanness somewhat, thankfully.

Warnings: Smut and sexual references, violence, detailed descriptions of vampires biting/drinking blood, swearing, insecurity and low self esteem for reader, hints at an emotionally abusive past relationship, references to past cheating, alcohol use, some bad treatment of reader by Bucky, injury/near death, potentially dubcon as it could be argued the vampire/human dynamic is on shaky ground in that sense - but reader is an enthusiastic participant. These warnings are not exhaustive so please proceed at your own risk.

In my head this Bucky is Civil War era Bucky - beefy with longer hair, but of course you are free to picture your favourite Bucky incarnation - that's the beauty of fic! Reader is fem, generally undescribed but has hair long enough to be in her face.

And yeah it’s purely self indulgent sexy vampire shit. Apologies.

🩸

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

#vampire bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #the blood pact fic #james bucky barnes #Vampire bucky au #Vampire bucky x you #Vampire bucky x reader

77 notes · View notes

itsmebytch001 · 8 months

Text

Smoking It Away Pt 3:

Summary: After the 6 weeks are up, Aaron comes to pick you up from rehab with Miles in the car, part of him wants to apologise for sending you away, the other knows what he's done is right, while Miles desprately tries to press you to talk to him.

Miles and Aaron exited the Rehab, Aaron had to fight every thought in his head to not run back in and bail you out while Miles stared into the distance with the growing feeling of regret sitting within him. And as they approach the car Aaron goes to take a final look at facility before riding off.

As they begin to ride off back into the wooden area, Aaron keeps looking back at Miles through the rear view mirror as he keeps looking back at your empty seat, he can see his nephew is struggling, wallowing in his own dilema of if he had done the right thing. They sat in silence through the entire of the trip back to Brooklyn, and once they pulled up outside Mile's home, Aaron dropped him off.

Miles Dragged himself slowly up the fire escape and entered his room, flopping onto his bed, laying their motionless for awhile until he heard his door knob click, and his parents shuffle into the room they looked down at him sadly.

Jeff: "So, how did it go?"

Miles: "What do you mean, 'How did it go?' We dropped her at the rehab and left her there"

Usually Miles parents would scould him for his sass, but all things considered it was reasonable that he would be upset, Rio exchanaged a look with her husband and exited his room.

Jeff: "I didn't think he would actually do it"

Rio: "What do you mean?"

Jeff: "I didn't think he had it in him to send her off to a rehab where he wasn't with her for almost a month, I thought maybe he'd chicken out and just take her home."

Rio: "Well, It's for the best I'm sure"

Meanwhile poor Aaron was sitting in the dark of his empty house back on your phone scrolling through it, scanning over all your personal texts and photos, selfies of you smoking or snorting and all he wanted was to find who ever the hell your dealer was, and he thought to look through your call list.

Aaron: Sun 12:33 missed Miles: Sun 12:09 missed Pluggg: Sat 13:19 -10 mins Miles: Sat 12: 11 -15 mins Auntie Rio: Sat 9:11 -12 mins Stella : Thurs 19:13 -1 hour Stella: Thurs 19:11 missed Pluggg: Thrus 17:19 -12 mins Bloom: Tue 19:11 -9 mins Miles: Tue 13: 11 -18 mins Musa: Tue 11:14 - 12 mins Aaron: Wens 21:23 - 1 min

Honestly if you didn't want him to find your supplier you should have came up with a better contact name, He thought how should he deal with this, this stranger that was posioning you for so long, he could go all Prowler on him and take him out, but he left that life far behind so why not hand this phone over to Jeff, surley he, or the police could sort through it until they found the adress of this 'Pluggg'.

He clicked off your phone and set it on the table, never had he been more aware that he was alone in the house, of course he had been alone before and had also known the feeling of having children and not knowing where they were, the stress and worried pacing calling you again and again with it going to voice mail and having to wait home until he would hear your window creek open and sound of you falling into bed, and now he was so upset with himself for not going into your room to scould you, but now that ne knew you were home, he could sleep.

And now he was alone, but atleast he had the knowledge were you where, that should he a comfort but really it just made him feel weak for having had given you do then.

As he walked down the hall he peered into your room to see how much he had torn it up. The emptied draws, the completely stripped bed, the hollowed out wardrobe and most of all the glaring whole in the floor, the missing floor board that once housed your goodie box of hard drugs.

He got into his lone bed, checking his phone to see a missed call from Jefferson, So he called him back.

calling Jefferson Morales

ring

Aaron: "Hey"

Jeff: "Hey...You good man?"

Aaron: "I'm...I don't know man"

Jeff: "I know. But I think You did the right thing"

Aaron: "Did I?" He ran his hand over his face.

Aaron: "What If it is just teenage shit? what if-"

Jeff: " Aaron...You found MDMA and cocaine in the floor"

Aaron: "I know...I know"

Jeff: "This should teach her, or help atleast...You go through her phone again?"

Aaron: "Yeah actually, I think I found his number"

Jeff: "His number? As in the dealer?"

Aaron: "Yeah I think so, If it's not this 'plug' guy it's this Stella girl"

Jeff: "Stella? Who's she?"

Aaron: "Y/n little friend who's a bit of a star girl, looking through these texts it seems she is the one buying half the time"

Jeff: "That's supplying, I could arrest her"

Aaron: "I don't know, I don't know" He groaned.

...

Jeff: "Don't go back man"

Aaron: "But wha-"

Jeff: "Aaron if you go back she'll know that she can get away with this type of behaviour, You'll be telling her that it's fine, she has to know their she can't just step on you"

Aaron: "Yeah...Yeah I guess"

After the next six weeks Aaron avoided going back to his apartment as all costs, hanging around the Morales house into late hours, then wondering the streets for hours until sunrise, only returning to the house when he had too, counting down the days until he could bring you home.

Needless to say once the six weeks ran out the whole family were looking forward to your retrun, of course Miles was stressing about you 'not talking to him' as you said you would, but Rio was just glad to get her surrogate daughter back.

The day finally came for Aaron and Miles to pick you up, Aaron felt ealted that he would finally have you home, had had almost no contact with you, only letters, and by the end of the program he had only sent 3, he never got a response and he wasn't sure if it was beacuse you weren't allowed to write back, or that you wouldn't.

So while Miles and Aaron drove off out of Brooklyn to pick you up, Jeff and Rio where in your home setting up a small welcome home party, nothing big, just cake with juice and a banner, yes it was strange that they would do this after a rebab stint, but they just missed you so very much.

Jeff had written out a mildy threatning speech to read to once you got home, and Rio was gleefully icing the cake.

The car ride was long and quite until finally they reached the facility, Aaron rushedly walked in to the reception where be began to sign you out while Miles kept checking you through the glass doors, and oh how happy Arron was to see his girl walking out that hallway, you looked tired.

Miles: "Hey!"

Once you made it through the doors, Miles went to hug you only to be meet with the hand, pushing him away.

Aaron can't help but also try and hug you, and through you tried to push him off, he still took you into a tight embrace.

Aaron: "Its good to see you baby" He holds you for several seconds almost sufficating grasp, finally he would be at ease that he had gotten you back, Miles kept looking for eye contact with you but you refused to meet his gaze.

Aaron took your bags from you forcefully and carried them back to the car, Miles trasped behind you as Aaron put your bags in the back of the car, Miles sat in the front with Aaron while you were in the back, he put on the radio and began to drive.

Aaron kept looking back at you through the rear mirror, he was so happy to have you back.

Aaron: "So baby, how did it go?"

Y/n: "Just drive Aaron" You heard Miles sharply inhale.

Aaron: "Aaron? We doing that now huh?" His hands tighted round the wheel, he had just gotten you back and already you were casusing problems.

...

Aaron: "Okay then" He mumbeld to himself tensing.

Miles: "We missed you Y/n"

You don't dignify him with any kind of response.Half way through the road trip home, you desprately needed to pee you knew you should have gone before you left the facility, and lucky you saw a gas station up ahead.

Y/n: "Can we pull over? I need to pee"

Radio silecne from both your Dad and you cousin.

Y/n:" Hellllo? Dad Can we pull over I need to pee"

Aaron: "I'm not Dad, I'm Aaron aren't I?"

Y/n: "Are you serious?"

Aaron: "You wanna call me by my name on your first day back out, and you expected me to pull over for you?"

Y/n: "You are a grown ass man, why are you being so fucking petty?"

Aaron: "Don't swear in my car"

Y/n: "Pull over I need to pee"

Aaron: "You can hold it"

Y/n: "Aaron, what is wrong with you? Let me out this car"

Aaron: "You are thin Ice Y/n"

Miles looked back at you in the rear view mirror, you made a moment of eye contact and you could see in his face he was pleading for you to shut the hell up.

Y/n: "Or what? You don't have anywhere else you can abandon me in"

The car comes to a sudden stop in the middle of this empty road.

Aaron: "Excuse me?"

Y/n: "you heard what the fuck I said"

...

Aaron: "Get out my car"

Y/n: "Excuse me?"

Aaron: "You heard me"

Y/n: "Are you serious?"

Aaron: "You heard me, you wanna talk to me like that your first day out you can make your own way home"

Y/n: "This is a motor way sourounded by trees"

Aaron: "Get. Out. The. Car"

And so you did, Miles watched as you got out the car with just one of your bags and walk off the road and onto the side walk, Miles was stunned by his Uncle giving him a stunned look, Aaron picks up on this and returns him a calm unbothered look.

Miles: "What was that?!"

Aaron: "Don't worry man, we'll turn back in 20 minutes and pick her up by the gas station, then maybe she'll shut up"

Miles: "What if she goes off into the woods?"

Aaron: "I dout it"

And just as Aaron said they turned back 20 minutes later to find you sitting with your bag out side the Gas station Aaron knew well enough you wouldn't go walking in the woods and you knew your father wouldn't actually leave you, Your Dad pulled up next to you and rolled down the window and gave you a apethtic look.

Aaron: "You ready to apologise?"

Y/n: "...No" Aaron also predicted that.

Aaron: "Get in the damm car Y/n"

The rest of the drive home was quite and uneventfull, droned out by the radio and once you two finally made it home of course you where relieved to be somewhere familair, but all you really wanted was to sleep in your own bed, Aaron shuttled you into the aparment with Miles and you were greeted with Rio and Jeff smiling at you with a cake, and a banner saying 'welcome home'.

ah crap

Rio Comes in to hug you tightly giving you a kiss on the cheek while Jeff looks on at you unimpressed, some how still mad at you even it's been 6 whole damm weeks since you had been in the home, you took your bags and simply walked past them dissmissivly and dropped them in your room, shutting the door not wanting to engage with them, Rio was clearly hurt by this so Miles went in after you.

He was you laying on your bed face down clearly exhausted.

Miles: "Y/n"

Miles: "Y/n I know you aren't asleep"

Miles: "Y/n!" He yelled shoving you bit.

Miles: "Get your ass up, the whole family put this together for you and you won't even say hello to my Mom?"

...

Miles: "Get the hell up" He shoved you again.

Miles: "I'm not playing with you get the hell UP!" He pulled off the bed by your shoulders and onto the floor.

Y/n: "What is wrong with you?!"

You picked yourself off from the floor, shoving him away from you.

Y/n: "I just want to sleep in my own bed"

Miles: "It's 11:00?"

Y/n: "Miles, Ive been sleeping in a rock hard bed in a building full of crazy people for six weeks all I want is to sleep in my own room, can you fuck off for god's sake"

Miles: "I honestly don't care, get your ass out there before I drag you down the fucking hall"

Y/n: "Yeah yeah whatever" And so you deafeatedly walked out your room to re greet your family who were already upset at you for dismissing them so quickly sat you down to cut the cake, you kept making eye contact with your Uncle Jeff, unwillingly meeting his cold gaze.

Rio handed you a plate with a slice of cake on it placing a hand on your shoulder, you Dad through clearly still bitter about earlier was also so very glad to have you home.

Rio: "look how thin she's gotten, clearly they didn't feed you right"

She was right, they did feed you, but mostly it was raw veggies and porridge and how much you wanted to fight the dinner lady for feeding you such grule, she said it was to help with with drawls, but it clearly brought her joy to feed you all the worst possible things imagineable.

Miles: "Yeah what they feed you there?"

You roll your eyes at him as the family gathers around you all feeding on the cake and pouring juice in their little cups, as you were bombarded with questions.

Rio: "Where they good to you their?"

Y/n: "Well I guess, They made us go to a funreal home at one point that wasn't great"

Jeff: "They did that to show you what could have happened if we hadn't caught and sent you off"

Y/n: "...okay" You weren't really sure what the correct response to any of these rehab realted questions where, is was rehab it wasn't supposed to be nice.

The family had gone stale due to your unwillingness to make actual conversation, so Jeff took this as the time to whip out is 'speech' which was actually just a fancy written threat.

Jeff stood in front the whole family with his paper in hand.

Jeff: "Ahem..Y/n during you absence in recent weeks we all missed you greatly and are happy for your return, and while you were gone I thought about what might have happened if Miles hadn't alerted us to what you were doing"

'Alerted? You mean snitched the little rat'

Jeff:" Every year thousands die in this city of drug overdoses, it starts with weed, and escaltes into harder things, like Cocaine, or MDMA, like you, and we are all so gratfeul to Miles for choosing to tell us, rather than wait"

Miles smirked at you from across the couch.

Jeff: "I have had the burden of informing familes's that their children had passed due to drug overdoses, and I will not allow you to be another I will not have you in a morgue dead and cold because you wanted to have fun with your 'friends' I, along with the family will not allow you to destroy yourself for your own selfish and frivalous indevours" He folded the paper in his hands and sat back down as the family began to slowly clap since the speech came to such a strange and sudden stop, he wasn't great a public speaking, obviously.

Later into the 'party' Miles was despratley trying to make proper converstation with you, unwillingly giving him short unresponsive answers, Auntie Rio was fawning over your changes in apperance, and she was right to say you looked 'rough', your skin had broken out due to stress, your hair looked like shit, you had lost weight, you nails had been chewed right to the end, truly it had been an unpleasant six weeks.

Rio: "Your hair looks so dry nina, did you not take care of it?"

Y/n: "My Dad only packed me shampoo in bag"

Rio: "Oh...Why?"

Y/n: "I think He's forgotten what it's like to have hair so he though that would be enough, bald little man"

Rio: "Oye, Don't be rude hehe" She giggled under her breath, this is what your usual interactions were like, not the cold stare on the couch when you were finally caught.

Rio: "ah well, we'll get you sorted yeah? Get you some Argon oil...and some face masks for all thisss" She dragged out the 'sss' gesturing to your terrible skin.

Y/n: "Yeah, that would be nice"

Jeff took Aaron into the next room for a little chat regarding your Plug, if he were to dissapear into the system he could no longer supply you, but the other problem came about with Stella, she clearly shown by your texts often was the buyer, and simply shared with you, and It wasn't reasonable to imagen going after her legally since her family had so much damm money they could easily have all this swept under the rug.

Aaron: "So you find him?"

Jeff: "Yep, we skimmed through Y/n's phone and we got him, his adress his name all of it, we should have in custody by next week, until then don't give Y/n any means of contacting him"

Aaron: "Do you know how hard it is to keep a teenager off the internet, and you want me to do it for a week? If you know who the guy is why not do it now?"

Jeff: "Because that's not how it works Aaron"

Aaron: "great" He said through gritted teeth.

Jeff: "What are you going to do about this Stella girl? She seem's to be her drug buddy"

Aaron: "I don't know man, her family's rich as hell it's not like she could be arrested"

Jeff: "I could arrest her, it's a case of it sticking"

Aaron: "I don't know man, but I'll take care of it"

Eventually the family scooted out the house leaving you alone with your Dad, Rio promised to take you out this coming weekend to get your nails done together as you sometimes would, and Miles still recived a cold glare from you, with you in your room unpacking all your stuff, your Dad leaned against the door frame of your room.

Y/n: "I see you put up bars on my window, classy"

Aaron: "It could be temporary, if you keep in line"

Y/n: "Yeah Yeah"

Aaron: "I'm glad to have you back Y/n, really I missed you"

Y/n: "Okay, I guess"

...

Aaron: "I don't want you hanging round that Stella girl anymore, she's a bad influence"

Y/n: "And how would you know? Youv'e only spoken to her like twice"

Aaron: "I know because you only started acting out like this when you met her, and she's in all your secret little photos on your phone, and she's the one buying you shit when youv'e already spent all your money!"

Y/n: "You went through my phone?"

Aaron: "Of course I went through your phone I found drugs under the floor boards!"

Y/n: "That's an invasion of my privacy!"

Aaron: "HA! Privacy? Y/n I don't think you understand what's happening, You don't have any damm privacy since your brought drugs in my house, no phone, no laptop and if you keep pushing it this way you aren't going to have a door, and if I see Stella or see you talking to her I'll keep those bars up, end of okay?"

...

Aaron: "Okay?!"

Y/n: "FINE!"

Aaron: "Don't yell at me in my own house!"

Y/n: "My house, My Door My window My daughter, I am 17 you do not own me-!"

Aaron: "You are a minor! and as long as you live under my roof NO STELLA I am your father and WE are family, don't be priortise her over your family"

Y/n: "I'll be out this house soon enough!"

Aaron: "I'd love to see you find a home in this economy!"

Y/n: "Whatever Aaron"

Aaron: "Call me that again, see what happens" He yells as he exits your room, closing the door behind him.

Y/n: "AARON!"

Aaron: "NO MORE DOOR"

GIVE ME MORE MORALES FAMILY REQUESTS!!!!!! PLZ I LOVE THIS

#yandere spiderverse #aaron davis x reader #uncle aaron #yandere morales family #dad aaron davis #platonic yandere #yandere miles morales #aaron davis #yandere rio morales #rio morales x reader #rio morales #jeff morales #jefferson davis #miles morales x reader #miles morales

278 notes · View notes

beansricejc · 9 months

Text

John Wick x F!Reader: The Lurking Wolf

summary: stalker!JW finds you oh so fascinating. kind of a mesh of headcanons/one shot.

warnings: stalking, p in v descriptions, implied (potentially) noncon, male masterbation, unsolicited photography, murder fantasy, physical assault, mugging, general violence, cursing, bondage references, female reader (no use of y/n).

not proofread! uploading this at 12:15 am, so I’m def half asleep. pls enjoy.

the first time he saw you, it was a complete mistake. you were both at the New York City Trader Joe’s, which in itself is one of the busiest buildings in the damn neighborhood.

you’re walking out of the checkout line, reusable bag in hand full of wine and nice cheese for your friend’s dinner party that evening.

crash! a huge body slams into you, as the bigger person was in a rush, you drop your bag, and on instinct a pair of arms catch it for you before it hits the laminate floor.

his forearms are toned and tan, with his veins swelling under his muscular flesh. you even notice a pattern of multicolored bruises scattered on his brawny limbs. large hands grip the bottom of the bag, and a soft grunt escapes his lips from above you.

the scent of a car shop, aftershave, and few other things enter your nose while this is going on. it must be what this man smells like.

“oh, I’m sorry!” you apologize. you don’t know why you apologize, it’s certainly not your fault, it’s actually his, he was in a rush and wasn’t looking out for you. maybe it’s your anxiety spiking because you avoid confrontation, and John spots this out instantaneously.

your head tilts up to look at the accident prone man. unbeknownst to you, he’s the world’s most lethal weapon. of course you don’t know that, you just get lost in his deep brown eyes for a few seconds before laughing and flashing an awkward smile.

but John can’t keep his eyes off of you. he scanned your entire being, your figure, your pretty face. he snaps out of it when you apologize to him.

“no, it’s my fault. sorry about that.” his grumbly voice says to you while he hands you the tote bag. he clears his throat, and you take your bag back. you give him that nervous pressed lip smile that you give everyone, nod your head before you turn to leave the building.

you’ve made it a few blocks but you can’t shake the feeling of someone watching you. your cute little head has even whipped around your peripheral view a few times just to be sure.

you shrug the feeling off as your anxiety spiking from that grocery store encounter. naturally, you have no idea of the creature that’s following you back to your small Brooklyn apartment.

to John, you’re the embodiment of perfection. an angel on earth. every time he watches you from a suitable distance, there’s a tingly feeling in his chest and stomach. he doesn’t know what this is. he’s never felt this way about a woman (not even Helen herself, god rest her soul).

he’s even brought his camera he only uses for his targets whenever he comes to see you. he’ll wait in his black muscle car, right when your delicate hands open your bedroom curtains to let in the morning sunshine.

John gets to work. Pointing the lens at just the right angle, from when you reach on your tip toes to open window, giving John the perfect view of your well shaped hips and thighs.

he snaps a few more pictures and he can even spot some blue cotton panties that are revealed by your oversized shirt being a bit disheveled.

the blood rushes to his cock, and has to bite his lip to try to stop the feeling. it doesn’t help.

over the past few months of following you around, he’s come to realize he’s never actually interacted with you besides for the grocery store incident. he’s gotta change that.

there’s been a reoccurring fantasy that has haunted John for the past few weeks. for you to be saved by him. for John to be your knight in shining armor.

the things he would do to feel your body pressed to his. to have his arms wrapped around you, cocooning you in a protective position from harm.

well, he’s paid someone to find out. mainly to figure out if you’re a fight or flight kind of gal. he’s expecting the first option.

he knows your thursday night routine. your 9:30 pm trip to the bodega two blocks from your apartment. John assumes you have the munchies from those really low dosage THC gummies you buy from your friend Sam every other month.

he knows a lot about you.

and he’s paid a low level lackey to shake you up a bit.

the bell rings when you open the door to the shop, the cashier waved to you and greets you. you’re on a first name basis. John knows this, and the thought of you even speaking to another person of the male gender forces his blood to boil.

John has dreamt of putting his hands around the necks of the men in your life, besides for your step-father, and the nice old man at the local library you occasionally play chess with.

His strong hands would squeeze and squeeze as the men would gasp for air. With every blink of John’s eyes, the face would change. Your four ex boyfriends, your coworkers, your boss. The several guy friends you have in your big friend group. All of them, gurgling, gasping, choking. And then…

snap.

the hitman’s hands would finish the job. just another target. no, not just another target. a roadblock that has been demolished. one of the roadblocks, to you.

of course, John would wake up in a cold sweat, and for some reason, his dick would be completely erect from the images of taking the lives of the men you know.

his tip would be swollen and leaking of his precum. why was this the thing that made him the most hot and bothered?

the hands that have taken the lives of hundreds, gripping around his own girth and twisting, using his own arousal to lubricate it. but not too much, John prefers a decent amount of friction.

then his hand lurches up and down on his throbbing shaft. hips jerking forward. buck after buck. he’s picturing you, tied to his bedposts, legs spread wide.

the thought of thrusting his fat cock hard into you could make him finish if he’s not careful enough. but now? it’s coming in handy.

imagining the squelching noises from the sin you two are committing. damn near hearing your cries and whimpers, pleas of mercy, erupting from your lips, as your cunt quivers around his cock.

you’re taking him so well.

and oh, John’s letting you know.

“Good girl, how’s my princess feel?” he’d groan out, feeling how good your wetness is on his dick.

feeling you tighten whenever you’re close to climaxing.

but unfortunately, sometimes in these fantasies, they would go sideways, fast.

John’s eyes want to look at your chest and stomach, but he’s met with bloodied flesh. the crimson covers your soft torso, his hands, all the way up to your chest, which is bouncing with each needy thrust.

John’s head whipped to the side, realizing there were a few of your male friends, dead, on the bedroom floor, below you and John making love. was it love? or was it John getting his way?

with the cries of your duct taped muffled mouth, he couldn’t tell.

then John would break out of his dream, chest heaving up and down from the stimulation of the act.

“fuck…” John cursed, fist punching the bedside table. “I didn’t even cum.”

but here you were, back at the bodega late at night. you’re happily humming a song that you’ve been listening to a lot this month. John made a fake account, and followed you on Spotify.

cue that low level lackey we mentioned earlier. some gangster in his thirties, bald, with a goatee and big sunglasses.

you’re busy figuring out which Mexican soda you’d like. and tonight, you’ll be thanking your preference for that type of drink.

“gimme all your money, bitch! or you’re fuckin’ dead!” the lackey threatens with a nasty tone to his voice. you’re high but you jump, a gasp leaving your mouth.

“shit! okay.” you mumble, before a stupid idea comes to your head. it’s as if a little lightbulb turns on over your head, and your long eyelashes bat a few times.

“well!? wait are you waiting for?!” the goon asks, now finally pulling out his large firearm. of course it’s not loaded. he’s just been paid to play a part and scare you a bit.

you don’t wait.

John’s eyes widen as he watches from the bodega window, since your hand is reaching for the glass bottles of soda in the fridge.

his jaw drops when he sees your arm hurdles towards the goon. the bottle fractures right onto his pale bald head, the shards immediately exploding around you two, and also cutting into his scalp.

he’s bleeding everywhere. there’s even a few spurts of the soda and his blood on your face.

John has burst through the bodega entrance, as the guy he hired fell to the floor and covers his head from another attack.

and you’re still high as a kite during all of this, so you step back, and the bottom of your pink crocs slips on the cherry flavored Mexican coke that has splattered all over the hard floor.

so there you go, stumbling and making you body tumble backwards. cue Free Fallin’ by Tom Petty.

now, instead of your reusable tote, it’s you.

a pair of strong hands come into play. hands that have murdered, tortured, and paralyzed. the hands grab you by the waist, his grip is firm and safe, he’s got you.

John grits his teeth, moving ever so slightly to get a whiff of your hair. the scent of your coconut shampoo that you’ve bought on amazon a few times, make him go beserk. his heart faces, he swear he can feel every cell in his body stiffen up.

you’re facing away from him, he takes a quick peek at the back of your waist, up close and in person. now those dreams of pounding you from behind are slipping back into his head.

the moans, the slapping skin, the stench of sex in the air (which is just a mixture of cum, pussy, and sweat).

he has to use his fingers to dig into your sides a bit more just to force them away. he’s not sure if that even helps.

you catch your breath, trying to comprehend the events that are happening at the moment. unfortunately, you’re a bit foggy from being under the influence. the sting from John’s grasp is muted because of it.

but the scent of the man who caught you from behind is almost familiar. aftershave, oil, barbecue. that’s the exact same smell as…

“well hello again, sweetheart.”

…the guy at the grocery store.

————

tysm for reading! pls feel free to support with feedback, likes & reblogs! sorry for the different format, just been feeling a bit uninspired, and my summer is much busier than I thought it would be. love u all!

#john wick #john wick x you #jw #john wick x reader #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves #john wick imagine #jw4 #keanu #john wick headcanons #john wick one shot #john wick fanfic

264 notes · View notes

dahlia-molinas · 10 months

Text

if you're worried about not having anything to watch during the writers' and actors' strike.. this is your chance to watch all those shows you've been putting off for years. maybe this is when you finally watch all 15 seasons of supernatural so you can understand half the memes about it. off the top off my head, here are some great shows you can watch (or maybe rewatch!) :

avatar: the last airbender

stranger things

breaking bad

queen's gambit

the sandman

good omens

community

brooklyn 99

the good place

lucifer

suits

manifest

outlander

the umbrella academy

the witcher

orange is the new black

the crown

fleabag

and so many more!

and this doesn't even include movies, or international media (there are some really great kdramas and bollywood movies out there)

so yeah, i wouldn't be too worried about your show getting delayed and the storm of shitty content that's about to hit us all- you've got a long list of shows and movies to get through

#please please add more shows there's so many more great ones out there that i can't think of right now #sag aftra #writers strike #wga strike #wga #sag aftra strike #hollywood

192 notes · View notes

itsbackwoodsbby · 3 months

Text

Stay Away From My Son!

American Daniel Kaluuya X Black Fem Reader

Warning: Alcohol (Consumption of Alcohol)! Death (To my death anxiety girls, me too sis, had to pull through to write this.)! Depression! Drugs (Drug Dealing and Drug Usage)! Guns! Sex (Unprotected, be safe tho)! Violence!

Summary: You’re a single mother of two kids, Bryson, 17, and Brooklyn, 3. Brooklyn is a sweetheart. Not a tablet kid, always in her picture books, and lets you teach her stuff before she’s off to pre-k. Her troubled ass brother, Bryson, just wants to follow in his father’s footsteps and become a drug dealer to support the house. You try to tell him it’s okay and you can take care of it without him trying to help, especially in the way he is trying to go about it, but he just doesn’t listen. So now, you must do whatever it takes for Bryson to stay away from the local drug dealer, Daniel before he ends up dead like his daddy.

Sneak Peek: “What I got to do for you to stop fucking with my son?” You look at him with so much hatred. He looks at you and then laughs. “You going have to let me fuck before I let you take my biggest boy out of the game.” You look at him in disgust, “I’m not fucking your bummy ass, nigga!” You yell at him before you slap him. His boys roll up on you, but they fall back when he raises his hand. “Damn, you got a hand on you.” He says to you, “Maybe you should run with me.” You roll your eyes, “If I don’t want my son running with you, the hell makes you think I will do it. Stupid ass nigga.” You walk to your car. He calls out to you, “Feisty ass. You just need some dick. That’s all. It’s been three years since your man got killed? I know that pussy tight.” You flick him off and get your car.

“I love you, Bryson! Have a great day at school!” You say to your son, as you drop him off. “I love you too, mama. Love you, too, Brooklyn.” He kisses both you and Brooklyn’s cheeks and heads out of the car.

You wait for a while to see if he goes inside the building. Bryson has been skipping school a lot recently. You two got into an argument about it last night and he promises you that he won’t skip school anymore. You watch him go inside and wait 15 minutes to see if he comes back out. He doesn’t, so you go back home. You cook some breakfast for Brooklyn and yourself. You would have cooked for Bryson, but as usual, he woke up late as hell. You cook pancakes, sausage, and eggs. You cut Brooklyn’s food up and some fruit and put it on her plate in front of her. She smiles and begins eating. You fix your plate and you eat your food next to her. After you both finish eating, you clean up and go into her room to learn. You teach Brooklyn her colors, the days of the week, the months, and numbers 1-20. Then it’s back downstairs to watch Bluey on the TV. Around two hours later. your phone goes off. It’s Bryson’s school. You sigh and answer, “Good morning, Mrs. Wilson.” You say as you tap your fingers on the couch. “Yes, Ms. Y/L/N. I was calling to inform you that Bryson isn’t in school now. Did you know that?” You stay quiet for a moment before answering, “No I didn’t because I dropped him off this morning and waited to see if he would come out and he didn’t.” You start to get angry at your son and his damn school. Lock the damn doors when school starts, so kids can’t fucking skip. “Well, Ms. Y/L/N, he’s not here. And if he misses school again, you will be fined and sent to jail.”

You sigh and hang up the phone. You pick Brooklyn up and she whines. “Mommy, I want to watch Bluey.” You look at her, “I know, baby. We get to Bryson before he does something else stupid.” You sigh lock the house door and get Brooklyn in her seat.

You think you know where Bryson was. And sure enough, you are right. Bryson is on the porch with a few friends his age and some men you went to school with that also hung around your baby daddy before he died. From what you see, everyone is drinking including Bryson, and smoking the two blunts in rotation. You park your car and hop out. You can hear everyone saying “Oh shit!” when they saw it was you.

“Bryson! Get your monkey ass in that fucking car right now!” You yell at him. He looks at you angrily as if you are ruining his fun. “Boy, get your ass in that car right fucking now. I’m not fucking playing with you, Bryson. Get in there now!” He stands up and brushes your shoulder as he walks to the car. You turn back to him, “Oh, you have lost your damn mind.” You are about to grab him, but someone stops you. “Aye, chill off my young nigga forreal.” He tells you. You stand there and look at him.

Daniel aka Drako. The city’s biggest kingpin. Daniel doesn’t care about anyone or anything. As long he gets his money. He recruits kids young, so that is why your son hangs with him. If someone doesn’t have his money, he usually beats them daily, until they have it. They’ll have three months, once the time is up, they are dead in the weirdest fashion. One way, they are tied up by their feet and fatally beaten up and stabbed and carved with a “D” somewhere on their body.

You look at Daniel with your arms crossed. You examine him before you say what you say. You honestly aren’t scared of him, but you do have to live to see tomorrow because you are the only one to take care of Bryson and Brooklyn. He has one of his hands in his pants and smoking the blunt. His eyes are low and red, but they are stuck on you. He bites his lips at you, making you roll your eyes.

“What I got to do for you to stop fucking with my son?” You look at him with so much hatred. He looks at you and then laughs. “You going have to let me fuck before I let you take my biggest boy out of the game.” You look at him in disgust, “I’m not fucking your bummy ass, nigga!” You yell at him before you slap him. His boys roll up on you, but they fall back when he raises his hand. “Damn, you got a hand on you.” He says to you, “Maybe you should run with me.” You roll your eyes, “If I don’t want my son running with you, the hell makes you think I will do it. Stupid ass nigga.” You walk to your car. He calls out to you, “Feisty ass. You just need some dick. That’s all. It’s been three years since your man got killed? I know that pussy tight.” You flick him off and get your car.

As you drive to your house, your thoughts start beating you up. Are you a bad mother? You can’t even protect your son from the streets. You know he needed another male figure, but why did he go to the worst one EVER? You look at Bryson in the corner of your eye. He just stares at you, mad because you embarrassed him in front of his “friends.”

He stays quiet and once you park in the driveway, he rushes out of the car and goes in the house. You get out of the car and get Brooklyn out as well. She smiles at you and holds you tightly. As soon as you’re inside, you hear Bryson slam his door and play his music loud as hell. You sigh and put Brooklyn in her room to watch Bluey. You open Bryson’s door, take his phone, and turn his music off.

“You fucking tripping. Damn just get the fuck out of my room!” He yells at you. You look at him in disbelief. Did he just cuss at you? You put his stuff in your room and come back in his room and look at him, “Did you just cuss me?” You ask him. He doesn’t say anything back, but he gives you the “I sure did.” look. “Bryson, you have lost your fucking mind. Baby, let me tell you something, I am YOUR mom! You respect me!” He rolls his eyes and puffs, “Man, get the fuck out of my room. I don’t have to respect you.” He gets all in your face. You push him on his bed, “Look here, I don’t care what Daniel ass told you about not having to respect anyone but him. But you are going to respect me. I am YOUR mother. Ight.”

He just sits there and mugs you. You've never seen Bryson be this defiant. You sigh knowing you lost your baby boy. He isn’t the same boy he was when his dad was here. He isn’t the same boy he was when his dad died. He’s heartless and reckless. He is the boy who sells drugs, gets multiple pregnancy scares from girls, and now cusses and disrespects his mom.

You look at him and talk lowly, “Bryson, you don’t get it, don’t you? You don’t need to run with him or anything. We are good. Can you please for once listen to me? Stop doing this. Your little sister needs you. Bryson, I need you.” You tear up. “And if you don’t honestly give a fuck about me as your mom, cool I’m sorry for being a shitty mother, but do it for your little sister. Do it for your dad. You know he did everything in his power to stop from following in his footsteps. Yet here you are because I am a bad mother.” You sigh and look at him as the warm tears fall down your face.

His demeanor changes and he starts twisting his dreads. He hates seeing you cry. Right now, it may not look like it, but Bryson is a mama’s boy. That’s why he tries to help you so much by selling drugs. He hates how you stress yourself out to make ends meet, making sure your babies look the best for school. He hugs you tightly.

“Mama, I’m going to stop selling. I promise. I’m sorry for hurting you.” He says. “Bryson, you say that all the time. Just to break that promise again.” You sigh and walk out of his room.

You start wishing your boyfriend, Brandon, was still alive guiding Bryson how he was. You know he’s turning in his graving, watching how his son became what he didn’t want him to become. Brandon used to tell Bryson his jail stories, how he’s forever stuck in the streets, that Bryson can do better, and why he should never be in the streets like him. It’s a slap to the face. You sigh the more you think about Brandon and how he died almost three hours after his first daughter was born. He wanted a girl so bad. Now he’s missing her, not able to physically watch her grow up.

You trudge down the stairs slowly, get a bottle of Casamigos from the fridge, and examine the bottle. Bryson has been drinking some because you left more than this in here. Or have you been drinking a lot more recently? You sigh and start drinking straight out of the bottle as you lay your head on the table. Not only did you feel like a shitty mom, you also looked like a shitty mom drinking alcohol in the afternoon. Five minutes later, the bottle is empty. You trudge back upstairs, lie down, and close your eyes for a moment. You couldn’t sleep however because every time, you hear Bryson’s phone dinging. You sigh and get up to turn it off, but you look at the screen to see it’s Daniel blowing him up, asking Bryson to come back, so he can drop off a load. You go to the messages and text back, “yea ill b over there in seven.”

You shower up and get dressed in something cute and chill. You lock your room door, so Bryson won’t try and get his stuff from out there. You go into Brooklyn’s room and see that she fell asleep, as she was watching Bluey. You pick her up and lay her in her bed. Then, you go to Bryson's room. He’s lying in bed throwing his basketball in the air. He sees you and sighs. “Momma, I’m sorry. I’ll stop running in the streets.” You look at him, “I know.” You smile. You go to him and kiss his cheek. “I’ll be back. Watch your sister for me. Don’t leave the house either.”

He nods his head. You already know he’s not leaving because he doesn’t like leaving Brooklyn alone. You smile head to your car and drive off from your house. Seven minutes later, you’re parked across his house. His boys are on the porch with him, smoking and waiting for Bryson to come.

“Man, this little nigga ain’t coming, Daniel.” You hear one of them say. “Lil bro is probably getting pressed by his fine-ass momma.” Bryson’s friend, Dominic says, making the whole group laugh. You roll your eyes. Then Daniel huffs and puffs, “Fuck! Just go without him.”

His boys leave him on by himself. Daniel sits on the porch, smoking his blunt before he goes inside his house. You wait a few and then walk across the street and go up to the door. You knock on the door. He instantly opens it.

“Man, Bryson, what the fuck?! Why you lat-…” He’s caught off guard when he sees you. You push through him and come inside. “Yeah yeah. Now, Daniel. I’m going to ask you nicely. Stay the fuck away from my son. He doesn't need this life and you know that.” You say. He chuckles and sits down on the couch, “Nah, he’s really good, Y/N. This life is teaching him a lot. How to be a man. Brotherhood. He is doing good just like his dad used to do.” You look at him, “Yeah, until you set him up. Did you even tell Bryson you’re part of the reason his dad is dead?” Daniel starts yelling at you, “I had nothing to do with his death! And you know that! I love Brandon as if he was my blood.” He was mad as hell at your accusation. “Whatever, you say.” You cross your arms, not believing shit this nigga says. He sighs, “You know what? Here’s what happened that night. Brandon died because of Taylor. Okay? Taylor was jealous because of how close me and Brandon were. You know I knew Taylor before I knew Brandon. But I liked Brandon’s work ethic and his hustle. We clicked on so much shit from the past, that was my boy.” He says and he leans back in the chair, covering his eyes. “Taylor told Brandon I gave him a drop. I didn’t. I was sleeping. Taylor knew some of our opps were sliding on their other opps. He sent Brandon over there and that’s what happened.” He sighs, “I had no clue at all, Y/N. But I did handle it.” He looks at his hands. You gasp, “You killed Taylor?” He bites his lips, trying to fight back tears. “Yeah… yeah I did.”

You look at the pain in his eyes. You were shocked he killed Taylor for Brandon. Especially since Taylor was Daniel’s blood cousin. You sit next to him and hold him. He cries in your chest. There’s a lot of emotions that you have right now. You feel bad for accusing him of your boyfriend’s death for a very long time. You feel relief that you know what happened that night.

He sighs, “This is the only way I know I can pay Brandon back by being a male figure to Bryson. This is the only way I know how to do it. By showing him the ways of the streets. No one taught me the normal way of how to be a man. I was taught to be tough. Be a street nigga. Get a good name in these streets.” He says. “Bryson doesn’t need to be in the streets. And you are teaching him how to disrespect women. I don’t like it. I hear him talking to girls. Calling them bitches and shit.” He looks at you, “Nah, that’s them other niggas. I can’t disrespect women. I love my queens. Especially the black queens” You raise your eyebrows, “Oh yeah? Then what was that when I came and got him from you? ‘Feisty ass. You just need some dick. That’s all. It’s been three years since your man got killed? I know that pussy tight.’” You mock him, sounding goofy as hell. He laughs, “Just trying to look cool in front of the boys. I’m sorry about that.” He says. “But I promise, I don’t teach the young ones disrespect. That's Fredo.” He continues. “Well, who taught him to just fuck? And fuck raw at that! I swear to God every day it’s always, “Momma, I think I got a girl pregnant.” every time. Like what the hell?” He chuckles, “Okay, that’s me. I’ll admit that. I want to be able to feel it. Connection.” You roll your eyes, “There's a condom that feels like nothing you know.” He gives you a crazy-ass look, “That shit not the same and you know it.” You look at him, “No, I don’t. All the time that I had sex has been protected.” He looks at you, “So how the hell did Bryson and lil Brooklyn get here?” You laugh, “Condom broke.” He looks at you, “So you never had sex without a condom before.” He asks you and you shake your head no.

Something about that answer turns Daniel on. He tries to hide it, but you can tell. You look down and smile. You look back up and he’s staring at you biting his lip. You giggle. Daniel has always been attractive, but you let the negative things block it. Now that some things are clear and off the table you see his fine self peeking through.

“Control yourself.” You say. “It was just a fact.” He looks at you, “Man, I’m chilling. Just thinking.” He says, chuckling. “What’s on your mind?” He looks at you clueless, “Nothing.” You shake your head, laughing, “For real. What were you thinking about?” He sits up, “Me being the first person to fuck you raw.” You laugh, “I knew it. I haven’t done that in a while for real. And besides, wouldn’t it be wrong? You are the father of my children’s best friend.” You look down. As tempting as it is, you can’t help but feel like Brandon would be mad at you. “I think Brandon would want you to move on. I’m not saying that because I’m trying to fuck. But honestly, I do. I don’t think he would want you sitting here upset and lonely.” He lifts your chin and looks into your eyes. You smile, “He would want me to. He always talked about it. I always brushed it off thinking he was just talking normal nonsense.” You sigh.

You start thinking. You've been lonely for three years. Not to mention, you stopped having sex when you were pregnant with Brooklyn. So it’s almost been four years now without dick. And sex toys can only take you so far. What’s the harm in having sex with Daniel right now?

“You sure?” You say, needing some confirmation. “I’m sure, Y/N. But I don’t want you to be unsure, you know.” He says as he rubs your back.

His hand travels down to your waist and your thighs. He looks at you. His eyes ask for permission to go further up your body. You slowly nod your head yes. He starts rubbing your pussy through your shorts. Instantly, you lose your mind. This is what you’ve been missing. A touch. He takes your shorts off and pulls your panties to the side and looks at your pussy. It was glistening with your wetness already.

He kisses your neck as he slowly rubs your clit. Then, he lowers to your thighs, sucking on them, leaving marks on them. He looks at it one more time before he dives in face first and starts eating you out. You gasp and throw your head back on the arm of the chair. His tongue slides up and down on your clit. You grip his head with your other hand. He switches from licking to sucking on your clit. Your body lifts a bit, giving him a bit of an entrance to use his fingers. He teases your hole with his two middle fingers before he curls them inside you. You start gripping his head tighter. He resumes eating you out and you can’t wait to come for him. He looks up at you to see your beautiful love faces. He smiles and slides his free hand up your hoodie and rubs on your boobs and everywhere else on your body. Your breath starts to get heavier and heavier.

“Fuck! I’m about to come! I’m about to come!” You whimper out to him. He smiles and continues to pump you faster with his fingers as he sucks gently on your clit.

You jerk up as you have your first orgasm. Your juices were dripping from his hands to his forearm. You sit up on the couch and look at him. He smiles at you before picking you up and taking him to his bedroom. Your lips connect with his for the first time and it feels so amazing. His lips are super soft. He then attacks your neck with kisses and lays your body down softly on the bed. You take your hoodie off and he takes his sweats off. His dick is semi-hard. He gets in between your legs and starts rubbing his dick on your pussy to coat it with your wetness. He leans down and kisses your neck, making you moan even more.

No warning, you feel something slide inside, making you inhale sharply. He lets you adjust to his size since it’s been a while for you. He then kisses you all over your body to relax your mind and your body, which makes you adjust to his size much faster. He looks you in the eyes as he slowly strokes inside you. You cover your face. You couldn’t even look at him with how much pleasure he’s giving you. He removes your hands from your face and makes you look at him. His eyes are filled with lust and you know he wants to make this enjoyable for you. He starts picking up speed. He rips your tank top off your body to massage your breasts as he pushes himself deeper inside you.

“Shit, Daniel!” You grip the sheets and close your eyes. “Come on, open them pretty eyes and look at me.” He says as he places his hand below your belly button. Your eyes open as soon as the pressure overwhelms you. Your hands travel to his chest and lower to his stomach, “Daniel, please, it’s too much. It’s too much.” You whimper out. “I can’t take it.” You cry out. He looks into your eyes, “No, you can take it.” He smiles at you and kisses your neck. Slowly, you move your hand back on the bed, gripping the sheets again, “Mm, just like that, ma.” He groans, locking eyes with you.

You start clenching around him. “Oh…shit! I’m about to come.” You moan out. He smiles at you and shakes his head no. You look at him like he’s crazy. What does he mean by no? He smirks and starts pounding into you. “You can come when I tell you to.” Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your toes begin to curl. You keep begging but it only turns him on more, “Mm, you look so beautiful when you beg.” He starts, “You keep on, Ima make you hold it even longer.” You hold it to the best of your ability, clenching tighter and tighter around him. He starts to twitch inside you, “You want to come?” He asks you. You nod your head frantically, but that wasn’t good enough for Daniel, “Use your words, mamas.” You look at him, “Please, please. Let me cum, baby. Please let me cum.”He is a sucker for your begging. He smiles, “Nut on this dick.” He says low.

You jerk up as you climax and he fills you up with his cum. He buries his head in your neck and places sweet nibs and kisses. He was right. It is WAY different to have sex without a condom. Getting to feel every inch of that big dick sent you head over hills. Sadly, aftercare could not be done because you have to get back to your two kids that you left. Quickly, you two shower and get dressed again. Daniel only puts on some gray sweats. He walks you back to your car and opens the door for you. You get in and start the car as he closes the door. He hunches over and motions for you to let down the window. You do so and look at him.

“So, am I going to see you again?” He asks you, sliding his hands in his sweats. “Yeah. You will.” You smile back at him and look down at his print. “My eyes are up here.” He chuckles. “Sorry.” You look at him. “Just call me whenever you want to see me again.” You say. He nods at you and you wave bye to him. You grab pizza for you and the kids on the way home and you have a good time with your kids.

43 notes · View notes

liz-allyn · 1 year

Text

sugar and vice, pt. 15 [mob!tasm!peter x fem!reader]

summary: what’s worse - a painful truth or a beautiful liar?

words: 5.6 k

chapter warning: trigger warning - *tw sa* - pls read at your own risk. John Walker (is officially a c*nt trigger warning). ANNNNNNGST. Mean awful words.

series warnings: mob-typical violence, bang bang shoot shoot, whump. hurt/comfort. s*xu*l situations. spousal ab^se. family trauma. dr^g use. coercion. manipulation. kidnapping. gore. blood. toxic/yandere!peter (maybe, sorta), negative self talk, shameless forced proximity trope. ‘only ten one bed oops’ trope, imprisonment. slowest burn. a dash of questionable and/or morally grey intentions. extremely toxic relationships.

This version of TASM Peter is not canon. The relationships and characters here are not healthy.

Don't date a mob boss.™️

18+ You’re responsible for your own media consumption, but if you don’t remember when Shia LeBeouf was just Louis Stevens then I’m not sure this content is right for you.

Back to Part 14.

Part 15

She was inches off the ground, her feet kicking wildly. It was no different than a noose around her neck. John dragged her like a ragdoll into a wide bathroom stall. With his beefy hand clamped around her jaw, tight enough to crush it, he shut and latched the partition door.

The forced proximity caused her to mewl louder, hyperventilating in his grip. He lifted her further off the floor by the shoulders and slammed her against the tiles, expelling the air from her lungs.

He was stronger than she remembered, his grip exponentially more painful. He’d no doubt logged extra hours in the gym, just like he used to, between his time at work and his time violating her.

She was weaker than she remembered, clawing helplessly at his arms with her shoulders pinned against the wall. Shrinking with terror at the feral look in his eye. Eventually, she went limp in his hold, submitting to her fate. She trembled uncontrollably, gasping through her nose, with her toes barely touching the tops of his feet.

Just like old times.

“There you are!” he cheerfully cooed, with a tone that reminded her of the way two old women greet each other on Easter Sunday.

His hand cemented her mouth closed while his forearm crushed her chest like a steel beam. “I’ve been worried sick about you, Peach. You haven’t answered my texts... my calls...” He grinned sadistically, with a festive tone. “I was beginning to think you’d fallen off the face of the Brooklyn Bridge!”

She had nightmares like this, where a scream tore at her throat but couldn’t break free. If she could, it would’ve pierced their eardrums. The panic in her eyes was shriller than sirens. Her heart drummed nearly as loud as the muffled music in the bar outside. Terror gripped her, and all he could do was laugh.

If she could scream, it would be one name: Peter.

As if John could read her mind, he narrowed his gaze, eyes darkening. Threatening. Daring her. “Now. I’m gonna move my hand so we can chat. And if you do so much as sneeze too loudly, I’ll drown you in that toilet bowl down there.”

She shuddered, tears spilling down her face. She sobbed. But she quit struggling.

“Atta girl,” he purred with a wicked smile. Licking his lips, he wiped a tear away with the pad of his thumb. “Here we go.” Slowly, he loosened his grip, letting his palm slide down her chin and his fingers wrap dangerously around her throat.

She gaped up at him, wet eyes glimmering in the fluorescent light.

“So,” he said, glancing between her petrified eyes and trembling lips. “What gives, Peach? Did you forget about me already?”

“John, please—”

He constricted his hand around the base of her neck. She pictured a python suffocating its prey, squeezing slowly until every bone shattered.

“I can’t help but feel like you’ve been ghosting me,” he said unnervingly lightheartedly. “Be honest. Was it something I said?”

She panted in short breaths. “Nonono, you don’t understand—I’m-’m trying to protect you!”

He tightened his grip.

“It’s the truth! You don-don’t understand—something is wrong... Peter is—he-he’s capable of things that-that humans shouldn’t be capable of!”

He curled a brow upwards, intrigued.

“I’ve seen it! It’s... it’s like the devil. I-I don’t know. He’s-he’s not human, John. I’ve seen him almost rip a man’s head off with his bare hands. Please, he’s... he’s not right—”

“You tellin’ me bedtime stories, Peach?”

“Nooo,” she sobbed, shaking her head. He allowed her the space to do so. “I’m not, I swear! He-he can’t be stopped...I don’t know what he’ll do to me if he finds out— I don’t know what he’ll do to either of us—”

“Shh,” he whispered, his eyes softening. He wiped another tear from her cheek. “It’s okay, I got ya.” He stroked her face sweetly. It made her skin crawl—a cruel imitation of kindness. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. You just gotta use that silver tongue of yours.”

She gulped at his insinuation.

“Speaking of which, you blow ‘em yet?” He sneered with a smile that made her nauseous, with an overemphasis on each syllable, “Come on, Hun-ney.” He wiped across her lower lip with the pad of his thumb, narrowing his eyes into slits. He breached her mouth, and she loathed the foul taste of his finger. “I know you’ve got what it takes.”

She went stiff. Felt cold and clammy. Like her skin wasn’t attached to her muscles. She didn’t want to wear it anymore.

“Well,” John pouted, pulling his thumb away, “if you’re not willing to play, I’ll have to resort to other measures. Guess I’ll have to settle for the kid.”

Her eyes flashed with anger. “Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare touch Bella—”

“I’m not talkin’ about Bella,” he snickered. “And not any of your slutty sisters either.” Her brows pinched together anxiously. “I’m talkin’ about the other kid—Miles Morales.”

Her breath hitched in her throat. A Cheshire smile stretched his face like an evil clown out of a horror movie. “Fucked up what happened to his family,” John mused with faux sympathy. “If anyone ever knew where to find him, he’d be in real danger.”

Her glossy eyes widened and her blood went cold. He didn’t need to choke her. She was being strangled by a mix of terror and rage, cutting off her air supply. She thought she was going to pass out.

“You can’t do that,” she whispered in shock. He tilted his head, glaring through slitted eyes. “He’s... he’s just a kid. He’s not even a part—”

“Oh, please,” he chuckled darkly. “Don’t tell me you’re that stupid. No one’s gonna believe that he’s some innocent bystander. Especially not the cops in this city.”

Her upper lip curled. “You’ll never prove anything.”

“I don’t have to,” John said under his breath. His voice was as soft as a cloud, and his eyes turned to ice. “All I have to do is call for backup. Lotsa things happen when the police get involved. Miscommunication. Accidents.”

He let the words sink in, as if holding for a dramatic pause. He leered down at her maliciously, like he’d just delivered a punchline. Her sense of reason detached from her own body. A fresh swell of rage rose in her, boiling the blood in her veins.

She barely recognized her own voice, or the poisonous sound of her fury. “If you come near Miles, you’re a dead man,” she seethed, almost breathless with anger. “Peter will kill you.”

John’s smile melted at her insolence, staring at her with disbelief. Rage spread through him.

She recognized that look. Knew it well, like an old friend. This was usually the part where he’d flatten her with the back of his hand.

She expected it. Welcomed it. She was convinced that it would have been worth it.

Instead, he pulled back his chin, studying her with scrutiny. “Wow,” he scoffed in disgust. “Parker got you good. He’s your knight in shining armor, isn’t he?”

He released her weight, letting her stand on her own, but kept his forearm against her chest. With the other hand, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a smartphone. Tapping in a code, he unlocked the screen and held it up to her view. She blinked rapidly, her eyes struggling to focus on the harsh blue light.

The image that came into view baffled her. It looked like a red paint can had exploded. But she knew who was showing her the picture, and anxious nausea gripped her. She looked away.

“Look. At. It,” he ordered through clenched teeth. “Recognize this?”

She glanced at the image with a stoic expression, which looked more like a Jackson Pollock painting than anything. She flicked her gaze upwards, glowering in silence.

“No? Lemme show you the ‘before.’”

He swiped the photo away. Her eyes went cold.

Immediately, she recognized Peter. If you had asked her—that was the first thing she saw. He was in some kind of nightclub, maybe in a part of Web that she hadn’t seen.

His face was partially obscured. But if you had asked her, she could tell you with certainty that it was Peter. That jutted jaw sporting a beard he’d worn up until today. That sharp nose. The prominent Adam’s apple in his throat. She’d recognize them anywhere.

If you had asked her, he looked disheveled in a way she couldn’t recognize. His hair was wild. Black shirt slightly askew, hanging too loosely like he spent time in a mosh pit.

But if you had asked her at that moment, she wouldn’t say anything. She was unable to speak.

She was utterly frozen, staring horrified at the half-naked woman on his lap. The woman was wearing nothing but a thong and tiny slivers of fabric that barely contained her breasts. She straddled him, fingers laced around the buttons of his shirt.

He didn’t look upset by it. Not one bit.

Didn’t look concerned at all. Instead, his head was thrown back in what appeared to her as ecstasy. She’d recognized that expression. She’d seen it from that same angle. It had only been a couple of days since she was sitting where that woman sat.

A sharp line formed between her brows. It had only been a couple of days.

This photo was taken with a long lens from a hidden angle. Someone had been spying on him. Watching him, unseen. Recently, too—there was a watermark of a date in the corner of the image.

It had only been a couple of days ago.

She was numb. She didn’t need to look up at John to see him beaming down at her. The color was draining from her face, her natural hue turning greener every second. Viciously, he flicked his thumb, displaying another image.

This one had them locked in a filthy kiss.

The next one had his lips latched to her chest.

The next one had his hands cupping her ass. Thumbs toying beneath the waistband of the silver thong she was wearing.

The next one had those hands buried in the woman’s hair—that gorgeous woman with her giant tits and flawless body. Perfect ass hoisted in the air as she bent her knees on either side of his thighs. Her tongue licked the flesh of Peter’s exposed chest.

Although Honey’s eyes told her it was a still image, her brain projected a motion picture. Her mind crafted each frame, imagining this woman trailing down his sternum until she connected with the hard, thick line in his lap.

In her memories, she could vividly see his eyes, but now they were staring at this woman. Burning her with a hungry gaze. Speaking filthy vows as he worked himself with his own hand. Worshiping her like she was a goddess.

“Aww, how sad,” John hummed, relishing in her pain.

When had she started crying?

“Now, check this out. Lemme show you the ‘after.’”

Another flick of his thumb revealed a wider image of the painting. She gasped with horror as she recognized the paint splatter as human remains. It was all that was left of the woman. Body parts and organs spread across a room like disjointed puzzle pieces. Her mouth fell open in a silent gag as her stomach pitched.

John snorted with a chuckle, “Geez, I can’t imagine the cock on this guy. Talk about splitting a woman in half, eh?”

Her heart crumbled. Her mind was shattered. Like the piano against the wall. Like that guard’s spine. Like the bloody mess of the man who’d kidnapped her. The whole world was red.

“Did he tell you about Gwen?”

Her heart skipped at the sound of her name. Her eyes darted up to John’s—stunned. How did John know about the woman of Peter’s dreams—the other other woman in his fantasies? She gazed at him in disbelief. He snickered.

“Did he tell you they were married?”

Another stab to her heart. A phantom limb severed.

“Did he tell you how she died?”

Another stone placed on her chest. She felt her lungs compress and buckle.

“Did he tell you how he murdered his own wife?”

Now, she was nothing. Less than nothing. Pulverized. Crushed to dust. Ground into the dirt. No more a body than the bloody painting of Peter’s mistress.

“You know what’ll happen to me if something happens to Miles?” John said.

He hooked a finger under her chin, pulling her gaze up to his. It was effortless. She had no fight left in her body. She was clay in his hands to mold however he wanted. A jellyfish washed up on shore. She had never had a backbone.

“Absolutely nothing,” he breathed, fixing her with a cruel smile. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, but she couldn’t feel them anymore. Couldn’t feel anything.

“I won’t be the one that Parker goes after. It’ll be you. His sweet, saintly, slutty snake.”

She stared with lifeless eyes, like playing possum. That was a mistake. She knew it wasn’t any fun for John if he couldn’t see her suffer. He wouldn’t be sated.

“Oh. One more thing. You forgot this.” He put his phone back in his pocket, retrieving another one. Her eyes went wide. It was hers—the one she kept hidden in her bedroom. “Can’t leave this lying around just anywhere,” he glowered.

She felt an iron grip on her thigh. She gasped sharply, but he cupped her mouth and sealed off the cries. Viciously, he wrenched up her thigh, pulling her legs apart. His fingers groped beneath the hem of her dress. A scream bubbled up in her throat as he shoved his hand into her underwear.

“Gotta make sure you keep this close,” he sneered through gritted teeth. Cold glass was placed crudely against her flesh, sending a chill that penetrated every cell in her body. In her mind, she thrashed, shrieked, kicked, hollered, scratched, bit, punched, yelled, clawed, bludgeoned, and punctured. But aside from sobbing, her body did nothing.

Just like old times.

When he retracted his hand, her limbs were rubber. If his hand on her mouth hadn’t nailed her to the wall, she would’ve collapsed.

Instead, he leered down at her, feasting on her anguish and relishing her torment.

He smirked.

There was no need for threats. No need to worry about her at all. She was broken. Weak. She would fall apart if he pushed her—a dandelion in a hurricane.

He released her, letting her knees buckle. She slid down the wall, trembling, crumbling beneath the toilet bowl. She winced at the uncomfortable feeling of a foreign object between her thighs.

“You run along now,” he muttered, undisturbed. “You’ll be okay as long as you can manage to keep your legs closed.”

Peter leaned back against the wall, letting the coolness seep into his scalp. His eyes were closed as he hummed a tune playing on the jukebox. Every breath was measured steadily, trying to shut out the noises around him.

He’d almost lost it. Again.

And while he was dreaming up violent pictures and all the different ways he could slaughter the two drunkards—who had smartly disappeared—he felt the sensation of an icy breeze tickling his body. It started gentle, like a gust of late autumn wind against bare skin. A moment later, the temperature plunged. It was excruciating, stab wounds all over his skin like he’d been dropped into a frozen river.

His eyes opened wide, a gasp filling his lungs. A chill he hadn’t felt in years shot down his spine. His gaze darted across the room, frantically searching. And then he spotted her—his girl stomping across the bar, rushing towards the exit. Her shoulders were rigid, arms wrapped tightly around herself, head down. She was a few paces away from sprinting. He could smell her tears from here.

His eyebrows pinched together. “Honey?”

She stopped for nothing. Scampered on shaky legs and unsteady heels out onto the sidewalk. Frozen tear tracks decorated her cheeks like glitter. She could hear Peter calling after her. The sound of his voice made her want to rip her face off.

A bomb of vile fury— ugly, savage, and raw— had been set off beneath her ribs. Rage vaporized her insides, burning blisters across her heart. A firestorm in her stomach and chest threatened to incinerate everything in her path.

“Honey! Wait up!”

Her eyes were blurry—glazed over. She recognized the shape of a yellow cab in front of her. Didn’t hesitate for a moment.

“Taxi!” she shouted, reaching for the door handle. She wrenched it open—if she had a fraction of Peter’s strength, she would’ve ripped the sedan in half.

Just before she crawled inside, the door slammed shut. Again. Peter tried to pull her back from the edge. Again.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa— what the hell—?”

“Don’t touch me!” she shrieked, voice like shattered glass.

The shrillness of it caused him to jolt. Immediately, Peter removed his hand from her upper arm, a bewildered look on his face. He blinked in confusion, overwhelmed by the redness of her eyes and the streaks of mascara down her face.

“What happened?” he gasped softly. His voice hardened to a demand. “Who did this to you?”

“Get the fuck away from me!” she screamed in a tone that was sharp and piercing enough to cut through the concrete jungle of New York City’s streets.

Peter suddenly felt every eye in the city on him, reminding him they stood on a busy Manhattan street. Flushed, he glanced around to see a crowd of bystanders turning to look. Curious and judgmental eyes attacked him from every direction.

Calming himself, he lowered his voice. “Honey, talk to me. What happened?”

Her eyes were wild. “Where’s Bella?”

“What?”

“Where is she, Peter? Where did you take her?!”

He curled a brow upwards, studying her, becoming more disturbed by her erratic outburst. “We talked about this,” he said placatingly, “I told you she was safe—”

“All you told me was that you took my family out of their home and hid them away from me!” She roared with a sharp, accusatory tone, “What did you do to them?! Where are they?! What did you do with my baby niece?!”

Compared to her, he was a whisper in the wind. “Honey, please, just calm down—”

“Forget it, I’m leaving!”

“What? No, I’ll drive us home!” Peter rushed after her, trying to maintain control of the situation. Panicked, he made eye contact with a man sitting at the valet stand just off the arcade entrance. He called to him, “Hey! Bring my car ‘round, will ya?” He hurried to give the valet his ticket, and the young man darted off immediately at the command.

Honey was now ten feet away from him and expanding her lead. The crowd was still eagerly watching the drama unfold. His senses buzzed him again as his eyes found a beat cop parked in a police cruiser nearby. He broke eye contact with the suspicious eyes of the officer, jogging away to catch up to her.

She turned a corner just as he approached. “Honey, I said I’d drive you—”

“I’m not going anywhere with you!” she hissed. He jumped into her path, fighting the urge to make contact.

“Wait a minute—!”

“Get away from me!” she hollered, her voice cracked and ravaged with cries. She stopped and backed up, putting several feet between them. A couple that was passing by slowed to a stop to watch. As did a senior man walking his dog. As did an off-duty driver watching from his cab.

Peter could recognize a power shift when he saw one. Now, standing on Fifth Avenue with her screaming her head off in front of a growing audience, she had all the power in the world.

He breathed heavily through his nose, his voice barely above a whisper, “Please, just slow down. Lower your voice. Tell me what’s wrong—”

“Or what?” she snapped, her volume still teetering on hysteria. “You’ll kidnap me again?” She was louder than a jet engine.

He felt faint, with the constant sirens in his mind alerting him to impending danger. He was defenseless.

“You're gonna throw a bag over my head and put me in the trunk?” she hissed. “In front of all these people?”

He swallowed hard, stomach twisting. Skin burning from dirty looks in the crowd. Cheeks flushed red with embarrassment.

“That’s your weakness, isn’t it?” she speared him, relentless in her attack. “You thrive in the shadows. You can’t survive without the dark! Can’t live where people can see how dirty you are out in the open! You’re worse than a rat; you’re fucking vermin! You act like you’re different, like you’ve got some moral code! But you’re no different than those dirty cops! All you want is to control people!”

His chest heaved while his gaze blackened. He lowered his chin, quietly seething. “Honey. Let’s not talk about this here.”

“I’m taking a cab.”

“You’re not gettin’ in a cab by yourself.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not safe!”

She glowered resentfully, jabbing a finger at him, “You’re not safe!” He blinked rapidly, taken aback by the pure loathing in her eyes. Rage flowed through her veins like lava. He’d never seen her so savagely cruel, like she was savoring the violence in her mouth.

“You call that love?” she demanded, voice cracking with cries. “Devotion? That’s obsession! Slavery!” Her whole body was shaking, eyes ablaze. “Fuck you! You don’t know what it means to love!”

The twist beneath his ribs was beginning to throb. Nostrils flared, he glared back and opened his mouth to speak. She unleashed another barrage the moment she saw his resistance.

“You know how to fight, but you don’t know what it means to surrender.” Her voice was quieter but no less vicious. She stalked towards him, emboldened by her anger. “You think I didn’t want to leave home? I wanted to run away! But I didn’t! I stayed... because that’s my mother! I stayed there to protect my sisters!” She paused only for air. “Suffering! Sacrifice! That’s love! How dare you pretend you know anything about it!”

“I’ve sacrificed,” he bit back, his hardened defensively. His eyes were lit up by the cars that passed by, the glimmer in them unmistakable. “And for the record—that’s not love. Love isn’t suffering. That’s fear.”

She eyed him lividly, words spewing out like boiling poison. “How would you know?” she hissed. “Everyone that ever loved you is dead. And everyone left alive is too scared to tell you the truth.”

He pressed his lips together, lifting his chin. His eyebrows furrowed together, eyes hung solemnly on her seething form. She spotted the tick in his jaw. The way he clenched it tight to keep himself from breaking down in her presence.

Against her will, the sight soured her rage. She inhaled slowly through her nose, biting down her jaw to keep her lip from wobbling in response.

He sniffed, rubbing his nose briefly. “That feel good?” he said bitterly. He glanced up at her, tears brimming in his eyes. “I bet it did. Now you finally know what it’s like to stand up for yourself.”

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple sliding up and down as if he was keeping something rancid from crawling up his throat. He sniffed again. Eyes flicked away. “Pretty nice bein’ on the opposite end for a change? Or do you get off on the pain more?”

Her irritation flared; his words sliced into her like a dagger. Her eyes burned with built-up tears.

“You like that, yeah?” he glowered. His eyes flashed with anger, temper flaring. “Ain't that right?” He hissed through gritted teeth, stalking up until he was inches from her. “You love it when the bad men hurt you. Fuckin’ love being a victim. So much that you’re willing to apologize for it. Admit that you wanna be controlled! You wanna be tied up and kept! It’s your goddamn dirty fantasy, isn’t it?”

His voice reverberated off the buildings before he buttoned his lips. Nostrils flaring, he dropped his gaze to the cement beneath their feet. She glared back, but she wasn’t looking at him.

Instead, she saw that slut writhing on top of him while she foolishly—stupid, stupid girl— worried for his safety.

“You’re confusing your fantasies with reality,” she sneered lividly. “You bastard, you don’t even know my name. You don’t know anything about me.”

His jawbone twitched, eyes downcast. “How could I? How could anyone? You never let me in.” He glanced up at her beneath his lashes, bitterness in his gaze. “I don’t know if you won’t because you don’t trust me or because it’s just easier for you to lie. But I am the only one who has laid it all out for you! I’ve told you exactly who I am, and what I am!”

She shook her head, her tone virulent, “And I hate all of it.”

The viciousness of her tone gave him pause. The sweet girl in the coffee shop was gone. Her humanity was ripped from her cells. He stood in horrified awe. Completely aghast and wondering who would have destroyed her like this. Who on Earth had the power to tear apart a soul the way hers had been?

“You were right, Peter,” she softly declared. “Your aunt and uncle didn’t deserve to die like that.” All the tears had drained from her eyes; the remnants dripped from her chin. Her quivering lip shook them loose. “But you do.”

The killing blow. That’s all he needed to hear in order to posit his answer.

He had been the one to kill her. To break her spirit. Tear apart her soul. He just hadn’t realized it until now.

He heard the roar of a familiar V8 engine. Glancing over, still slightly glazed from the raw energy of their fight, he saw his Basalt Black Porsche Spyder pulling up to the curb. It stopped several paces away, high gloss shine glittering in the streetlights. It was a stunning jewel proclaiming his accomplishments, none of which he could immediately recall—or give a shit about.

Most of the faces on the sidewalk were now pointed away from them, but Peter could hear the cruel things they whispered under their breaths. Maybe they were right.

The valet popped out of the driver's side, smartly avoiding even a glance towards the couple. He disappeared, didn’t even wait for a tip.

Peter stared at the ajar door, reeling with hot emotions and dreading the next fight ahead.

“Get in the car, Honey,” he muttered darkly. Any ounce of kindness or patience had evaporated.

“Fuck off.”

He flashed rageful eyes at her. “I’m not tellin’ you again. Get. In the car.”

She narrowed her eyes and scoffed at his empty threat. “You gonna have me whacked, Boss?”

He tilted his head. Glowered at her for several moments. “Of course not.” His tone was calm and his eyes gentle, a shocking contrast to his livid demeanor moments before. He strolled towards her until she was within arm’s length.

“I’m gonna let you go,” he said matter-of-factly. “Gonna let you run. Get as far away from me as you can, until I’m nothin’ but a bad memory. I’m gonna let you go free. Let you believe that you really won this time.” Like a feather, he drifted closer, stopping inches from her ear. He whispered icily, “Then I’m gonna hunt you down.”

She flicked her gaze to his. His eyes were black, possessed by rage and whatever other evil lived inside his soul. “And I will bring you back. In handcuffs, if I have to. In chains.” He leveled his gaze at her, speaking in a hushed tone. “You think I’m scary now? You think I’m the bad guy? No. You haven’t seen me bad, Honey. You haven’t seen me angry.”

Her expression was stone. The threat lingered in the air, but she didn’t respond. He doubted she lacked the courage to do so. She likely didn’t have the energy.

She simply didn’t care anymore.

“I’ve seen all I need to see,” she said calmly, letting out a tired sigh.

Rolling her eyes, she rounded around him and began strolling towards the car. She walked with an airy gait, floating like a ghost. Untethered to this world. Empty and void of anything resembling life. “Dinner is over,” she bitterly muttered. “And I’m ready to go back to my room now—”

A force collided with her upper back like she took a punch to the spine. Before she could cry out, she was flying backward.

The car shrank in her gaze. She came to a sudden stop, crashing against the brick wall of Peter’s chest, steel beams wrapping around her. They were both flying through the air, spinning dizzily, until coming to a hard crash on the pavement.

The air ejected from her lungs as she rolled to her back. Peter’s body covered hers, shielding her.

A bright flash. Blinding light. A blast of heat.

A shockwave erupted from the sportscar as it exploded into flames.

And then, there was nothing but silence.

Her lungs felt like they were on fire. She choked on methane, her chest trembling from damage. Her eyes fluttered open to see Peter gazing down at her. Doe eyes. Wide and terrified. He was sobbing. She could barely hear him over the ringing in her ears.

“Wake up, baby... Baby, please, please come back to me, wake up wake up, come back, stay with me staywithmeplease staywithme—”

It sounded like she was at the bottom of a well.

On the next inhale, she broke into a coughing fit. The change in pressure of her airways restored some of her hearing, but she was still trapped in a coffee can. The whole world rattled and buzzed around her.

Peter’s face filled with relief, albeit short. “I got you.” His voice trembled. She was no longer on the ground. She was freezing and soaked, covered in road mud and sleet. She shook against the heat of his chest. Her fingers were icicles, and it was painful to grip his neck.

“I got you,” he repeated. “S’okay. Gonna get us out of here, okay? Just close your eyes for me.”

The bright lights of a bonfire blinded her, and closing her eyes was a welcome relief. Then her stomach pitched, like she jumped off a building.

She kept her eyes closed. Gripping him close, her nails dug into the leather of his jacket. She was so cold. Like she’d been walking through a blizzard. Could barely feel her toes. What happened to her shoes?

She jostled as she came to a sudden stop. Her head throbbed from the jerking sensation. It was like she’d been in a car crash. Or had gotten hit by a bus.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Peter repeated, terror stretching his voice thin. “Sorry so sorry so sorry I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean it—”

She felt herself crying, shaking in his hold. The sharp prickle of gravel on the backs of her exposed legs startled her. Dizzied, she blinked up at him in confusion. His gaze was buried within hers. He cradled her close to his chest.

She was disoriented. Where did the buildings go? Were they on the roof? When did they go upstairs? Had she blacked out?

“Baby, look at me,” he called to her, his voice as gentle as a lake. Her eyes struggled to focus. Her mouth opened, but she couldn’t breathe enough to speak. Choked on the frost in the air. Choked on the taste of blood in her mouth.

Her eyes went wide, gazing up at him as terror settled in. Her brain started to reboot, putting pieces together, but her pulse pounded as the picture came to life. The car blew up. Right in front of her. They had almost died. She had almost died. Peter had almost died.

She sobbed. Cried out his name.

He held her tight, rocking her like a child. “It’s okay,” he whispered soothingly. He dug his arm beneath her knees, elevating her legs while dipping his hold on her back. He was so warm, always warm all the time—practically burning up. She was so cold.

“You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay. Just breathe.”

Tearfully, she hiccuped, sucking in big gasps of air. “Pete—”

“Shh, shh,” he cooed. “Breathe for me, baby. Just breathe. Just like you taught me, yeah? In and out. We’re gonna take a moment to breathe.”

“M’sorry... I’m sorry about everything,” her voice broke over the words. It felt like her tongue wouldn’t move as she wanted it to. “I didn’t mean it—”

His face was filthy, streaked with tears and horror and blood. He shook his head, touching his nose to her. “It’s okay, baby. Just rest right now, okay?”

“Peter, what happened?” she cried, shuddering as he rocked her. “Wha...?”

“It’s okay, sweetie. S’okay, we just fell. We fell. You-you hit your head... and—fuck, I’m so sorry, this is all my fault—”

“I’m co-cold...”

“Here.” He shucked off his jacket, blanketing her with it. “We gotta get you warm. Just need t’get a good look at you, see where you’re hurt.”

“Di-Did I almost die?”

He winced. Squeezed his eyes closed, like holding back a scream. “No, baby.” He swallowed hard. “No. I was never gonna let that happen. I’m never gonna let that happen, I swear.” His face crumpled as he pressed an agonized kiss to her forehead. “I’m so sorry. I’ll never—I’ll never hurt you again, I swear it. I swear.”

Her face crumpled as he squeezed her body to his chest. She closed her eyes, burying her wet cheeks in the crook of his neck.

He was sorry. So was she.

But not nearly enough.

Not yet.

Continue to Part 16

[back to masterlist]

A/N yeeeeeaaaah. originally, i planned for 14 and 15 to be one chapter, but instead, we needed some semblance of joy. for a moment.

thank you so much for everyone that has given me beautiful feedback and notes and fun little ideas for the playlist—I have been going through a mountain of stuff but I appreciate you all so much.

want to be on the taglist for the next one? make sure you reblog!

take care, spider fam

249 notes · View notes

the-cat-and-the-birdie · 9 months

Note

Not sure if you're actually interested in talking more about this, but I'm jumping in anyway because I relate so hard to being confused about the spiderverse timeline. Not only did everything about the society and Miguel happen fast, but a bunch of other stuff don't add up either? Like.

The first film takes place in early December 2018 according to Miles' test (if we can trust that? It does snow several times) and Peter's headstone, and Across takes place less than a year and a half later... or in July 2023 according to the bodega's security cameras?

Also, the news anchor says Peter was 26 when he died, but the headstone says 1991-2018. Then his birthday was in mid to late December? And he died right before it? That's sad. Oh! Speaking of birthdays: Miles asks why he can't go back to Brooklyn middle school. Soo... he's 13 (which the art book claimed, I think??) and skipped a grade? Is his birthday also late in the year? It has to be imminent if he can be 15 in a year and four months.

And Mayday! Babies typically start crawling at 7-10 months. 9 months of pregnancy + 7 months of living baby = 16 months, or a year and four months! MJ must've gotten pregnant immediately after she and Peter B reconciled. That's effecient of them, but I guess she'd waited long enough.

If we disregard the security cams, it's actually April-ish 2020. How long has Gwen been with the society? She says "a few months", yeah? If that's the truth, it must be between two and five months, because Jess' belly was noticeably big in the prologue, but she's yet to give birth by the end. So! Gwen joined in December or January? Maybe February? That's winter. Is it common to be dressed in shorts, tights, and sweater but no coat in New York during winter? Because that's how she's dressed. And the people around her are wearing t-shirts.

Gwen and Hobie has been on "a couple dozen" missions together. That's at least 24, if he meant that literally. Nearly one every day for one month. But it can't have been continuous because he's got shit to deal with in his own dimension in between. How do they manage their time? Do they have a schedule? And this has less to do with the timeline and is really something that just hit me:

Did Miguel deliberately gather all those spider-people to intimidate Miles with? Because HQ is teeming with spider-people doing mostly nothing (and that's only in the lobby). Don't they have villains to catch at home? I'm picturing Miguel sending a mass dm to everyone about how he needs them to come in and act natural – they have a 15 year old that has to be put in his place!

All this to say: I don't think you're dense about this. I think it's the writers that can't math.

BRUH ACTUALLY DEADASS

HOW LONG HAS JESSICA BEEN PREGNANT??????

Because her pregnancy and Gwen's time there PLUS pavitr joining in under six months is SO JARRING AND CONFUSING.

I assumed Gwen was with them for like 6 months, but that seems way too long so maybe 3? And we can (generously) say Jess was maybe 5-6 months pregnant? So okay, she's about to give birth.

And as someone who lives in NY, nah Winter here is a good 40F(4C) here or lower - even spring you have to wear a hoodie and it's like 60F(15C) until July so I don't know when they recruited her tbh

But for some reason I always assumed that Gwen joined before Pavi did, but I guess not?? But Pavi had only been Spider-man for six months? So did they recruit him right away or was HE the 'new guy' before Miles???? And why would they recruit him right away?

Yeah and with Hobie's work schedule - like I'm assuming they don't go on missions only together because she knows Pavi and LOTS of the other Peters, so either shes going on other missions with other people too- meaning Gwen has done a couple dozen with Hobie and THEN some, or she has a lot of time between missions to meet a lot of Peters around campus.

But then that adds up to like 50 something missions. Unless anamolies are happening every single day, that's still 10 weeks, five days a week - at the least.

And they have training rooms!! So i'm assuming Gwen didn't start going on missions right away with the way Miguel was treating her - so what the hell?????

It's like....

If MJ got pregnant right away, at the same time Miguel got the watch - how long did it take him to meet Peter B.??? Was Peter B the first one he met? And how long did he know Peter B before he lost his daughter? Mind you - all in under a year or so. How long was he with his daughter?????

This makes NO SENSE. NO SENSE WHATSOEVER

And also to answer your last point:

Personally I think, yes Miguel actually made a concentrated effort to do that.

I wrote about it in my Hobie dialogue break-down - but the entire Spider Society scene was propaganda meant to intimidate Miles. Hobie even points this out, telling Miles 'propaganda bro'.

Their watches can take them anywhere - Jess goes to the bridge in Mumbattan. But when they need to see Miguel, they make Miles look at the all (trained) Spider-people. Then they take him to the prison area, then the go home machine. They could've just teleported into Miguel's lair, but instead Miguel made them do this whole tour (things Hobie and Gwen have seen), before meeting Miguel.

In my opinion Miguel absolutely planned that, theres no other reason for them to have been there and for the three of them to have to walk through all of that.

They even make them go to the food court for Miguels empanada like how petty can Miguel be lol He literally just wanted to scare Miles

#atsv #across the spiderverse #atsv analysis #jessica drew #gwen stacy #pavitr prabhakar #hobie brown #miles morales #miguel o hara #spiderman #spider man #spider punk #spiderpunk #jess drew

108 notes · View notes

intheorangebedroom · 2 years

Text

Pleased to meet you (a fairy tale)

Series, complete.

Summary: You meet Frankie Morales. Twice.

A 20-year-old French student, you're spending the summer of 1999 in New York with your best friend. When she drags you to a party in Brooklyn, you meet an aspiring pilot and the two of you spark an instant and intense connection. Separated by unfortunate events, you waste the next 15 years of your life longing for what you've lost, only to meet him again when your new boyfriend Benny introduces you to his best friend.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Gabrielle Tourneur (OFC)/French fem!Reader with a dash of Ben Miller x Gabrielle Tourneur (OFC)/French fem!Reader

Written in reader format but Reader is an OFC. There are sparse but still present physical descriptions, she is French and has a thorough background, and a name.

Rating: Explicit 🔞

Note: In 2023, I will stop apologising. Maybe. And anyway, I make no excuse. I'm in love with this pilot and obsessed by this movie so I'm making it everyone’s problem. This story is nothing if not a self-indulgent exploration of the soulmates ideal. Expect a lot of angst, and smut.

Every chapter is explicit and you should be 18+ to read this. The American university system remains a mystery to me, I googled "how to become a US Army pilot", and visas are not a thing in this AU. English is not my first language, but one I adore.

Welcome to the orange bedroom, hope you'll enjoy 🧡

Chapters

Chapter 1 - Lovesong

Chapter 2 - I Feel You

Drabble (chapter 3) - What lingers (you)

Drabble (chapter 4) - What lingers (Frankie)

Chapter 5 - Boy meets girl

Drabble - Proud Mary (Ben Miller x you)

Chapter 6 - That Brooklyn bathroom

Chapter 7 - Frankie

Chapter 8 - Shuffle Your Feet

Chapter 9 - The Way Young Lovers Do

Chapter 10 - The Deal

Chapter 11 - Sunday Morning

Chapter 12 - The Drive Home

Chapter 13 - Perfect Day

Chapter 14 - Love is blindness

Chapter 15 - Flaming June

Chapter 16 - Plainsong

Chapter 17 - Auf Achse

Drabble - What lingers (you&him)

Epilogue - Songbird

Drabbles

Road Trippin’ - inspired by one of Wildemaven’s beautiful weekly moodboard writing prompts 🔞

The ties that bind us

To Bring You My Love

I <3 U SO - coming one day for sure

Headcannons

Frankie's high school locker

The TF boys' favourite things in life and how they like it done.

Benny and Gabrielle (better read between chapter 14 and 15 to avoid spoilers)

A PTMY Halloween 🎃

Playlist

566 notes · View notes

milesandcorysupermacy · 1 month

Note

can you do a fic we’re y/n is miles(doesn’t matter which one) little sister who can lowkey sing but denies it

HEEEEEY, POOKIE! So ik I took long to answer ur request but u inspired me to write again because I can actually relate to this 😭

---------------x-o-x-o--------------------------

"Mariposa"

1610!Miles x Younger-SISTER-Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Cursing, Reader is 13, Miles is 15, Me not knowing anthing about the music industry, Not spell checked bc im lazy, Reader recorded without her consent (it'll make sense, I promise 😭)

Songs that were used: 'In Your Hands' By Halle, and 'Hailey's Comet' By Billie Eilish

Summary: You've always thought you could sing well, but you never considered it was exceptionally well. When you're confronted with other people's opinions on your singing, you start to change your mind. Can you really sing?

Taglist:

@we-loveebony

@im-miss-simp

@ilovespiderverseee

@maxoloqy

@edgyficuselastica

@thehighlordishere

---------------------x-o-x-o---------------------

You walked into your kitchen, humming the soft melodies of the Billie Eilish song playing in your shared airpod with your older brother, Miles.

"Hey, you wanna order tacos? Your treat, by the way."

You turn to him, confused from this comment since he usually pays. You hate to admit anything nice about him, but one thing you can say is...he's a gentleman.

"Why am I paying?"

"Oh, I dunno. Maybe this will jog your memory."

Your over-dramatic sibling says as he points to a scar on his left cheek. You sheepishly chuckle as you scratch the back of your neck, embarrassed. The scar he's referring to is from two days ago when you threw scissors at him.

"Oh, right. In my defense, I thought your spidey senses would make you catch it."

Miles gasped.

"HOW?!?!!? I was holding sketches! If you thought I would drop my precious babies for some scissors...you clearly don't know me, mother's other child."

He said, not referring to you by name anymore. You rolled your eyes as you threatened him with the worst thing of all...no food.

"Well, if you're not even referring to me by name anymore, I guess you don't want any tacos!"

Miles immediately frowned, gasping from your threat.

"No! I love you my most beautiful, sweet, elegant sister! I still want the tacos! Make mine carne asada, please!"

You rolled your eyes at his willingness to switch up so easily. You sighed, opening your Uber Eats app to find the closest taco place.

"What a drag to love you like I do, ooh-ooh, ooh, ooh"

You sang quietly along to the infectious melodies of Billie Eilish's 'Hailey's Comet'. Miles just stared at you, stunned. He's never heard you sing unless you were joking around, but right now he could've sworn you were a Grammy-nominated artist. He let this keep going on until the song ended, still staring at you while you absent-mindedly look into your phone. Not noticing him staring daggers into the side of your face.

"Ok, I placed the orde-"

"You sounded really good just now, why didn't you tell anyone you could sing like that?"

You stared at him bug-eyed, not knowing how to respond to all this sudden attention on you. Being the younger sister of Miles Morales, you just kinda got used to flying under his radar. I mean, he's a *almost* Straight A student, exceptionally good at art, a superhero, and he's in one of the most prestigious schools in Brooklyn. How could you even compete with that?

You're just a 13 year old girl who passes all her classes to keep her and her parents sane, and pretty much nothing after that. You acknowledged this hidden talent, but immediately compared yourself to other singers and realized that you would get crushed in that audition room. You weren't some Beyonce waiting to happen, you were just a girl. A girl who has absolutely no idea what she's doing.

"Why? What do you mean why, Miles? Have you heard all the other singers out there? Dude, I would get fucking crushed the moment I let out the first note. Not just that, but you're so obviously mom and dad's favorite. I mean, every time I come home with a B I feel like an idiot compared to you. You're just better than me, and everyone knows it. I fly under your radar, Miles. Every time that you, mom, or dad introduce me to somebody, you guys always say Miles' little sister. Face it, dude. I can't compare to you."

Miles felt his heart shatter hearing your words. As a big brother, his job was to protect you. How could he do that when he was causing the problem himself? He never looked down on you, he was proud to have you as a sister and he couldn't believe that you felt this way about yourself. What made it even worse was the fact that you started crying, he immediately sprung into action when he saw the tears falling. He engulfed you in a hug, feeling extremely guilty.

"I'm so sorry, Mariposa. I never even realized that the family was downplaying you like this, you're incredible and deserve to be seen as such."

You felt a smirk coming onto your lips from the nickname that he called you, referring to your Halloween costume from 10 years ago. Small moments like this made you realize that you had a brother who loved you, and would talk to you about anything. That's all that matters, right? You and him against the world...well, maybe just him. (Give the man credit, he's literally spiderman.)

"It's fine, I'm sorry to drop all of this on you. I feel like I kinda overreacted."

You awkwardly chuckled as Miles look at you like you were a woman gone mad.

"Why are you sorry? I'm glad you brung it up, now I can be more aware whenever I see it happen again. The fact that you feel like you're always under my radar is even more of a reason to get yourself out there! Who knows, I mean maybe Mami and Dad could hire you a manager. We're in New York, this IS industry city."

You thought about the idea for a second and honestly, it sounded great at first. Then you started to realize that you were 13, about to graduate 8th grade, and have no experience in vocal training. The once great idea started to sound like a complete fail.

"While I appreciate your excitement, Miles. I'm barely a high schooler, and have no experience. If I were to make it in the industry, it be pure luck!"

You waved him off as he was walking around you in a circle, spewing ideas. Starting to become annoyed with how invested he truly is in your life, a blessing and a curse.

"Well maybe if we go to the mall and-"

"What? No, that's so idiotic."

"Well, if you can open for an artist's tour-"

"How am I gonna do that with my middle class, Afro-Hispanic family in Brooklyn, New York?"

"Well, I got a few piggy bank-"

Miles was thankfully interrupted by a notification from your phone saying that the tacos were downstairs at the front desk.

"Thank fuck."

You whispered as the notification saved you from hearing any more of Miles' idiotic ideas.

"Miles, you mind going to get it?"

"Yea, just gimme a sec."

He says as he puts his shoes on, but that's really just a cover for his plan. He decided to play one of your favorite songs right now, 'In Your Hands'. He did this since he knew you wouldn't be able to resist singing it, especially since nobody else is around. While he's downstairs, he left his phone recording in the apartment so that he could catch your angelic voice and show it to his parents. Great plan....well, at least he hopes so.

~Timeskip~

While you and Miles play Wii Bowling on the living room TV, (you were beating his ass btw) your parents walk in. You both greet them and help with groceries, you then decide that you wanted to take a shower and exit the room. This gives Miles time to execute his plan!

(We're gonna pan over to Miles' scene bc I'm not. writing about you taking a boring ass shower.)

"Ok, we have like 40 mins until she's done with her nightly routine."

Miles says very suspiciously which causes his parents to feel concerned about him.

"Miles, buddy. You alright? I hope you're not sick or anything."

Jeff says as he cautiously touches Miles' forehead. His mother begins to chime in with the concern too.

"Yeah, you do look kinda pale."

Rio says, also touching the poor boy's face.

"He does, doesn't he? I'm glad I wasn't the only one noticing-"

"I'm not pale, I'm very pigmented!"

Miles whisper shouts. His parents back off with their hands up in a surrendering motion.

"Anyway, I wanted to show you guys a video of Y/N that I took. I know it sounds weird, but it's a video of her singing. It sounds really nice and I want her to have a talent of her own since everyone compares us."

His parents smile with approval and appreciation of how nice your brother was being towards you right now.

"Well, show us whatcha got!"

Rio says, enthusiastically. Miles opens his camera app and plays the video, immediately smiling at your perfect voice as you sing the melodic notes of the song.

"In your Hands, in your hands.

You can't let go or you'll lose your chance.

'Cause after me, you'll never fall in love again, la-la-la."

You melodically sung along to the song ans your parents stared at the phone with shock. They listened to the whole 3 minute video and smiled the whole way through, stunned by your almost perfect vocals.

"Wow...I can't believe that's my baby girl singing!"

Rio said, bewildered.

After some time, you finally walk out the bathroom with your pajamas and a towel on your head. Your family just stared at you with shock as you walked toward the kitchen for water.

"What? Am I not supposed to drink this water or something?"

"Girl, where'd you learn to sing like that?"

You furrowed your eyebrows at your dad, believing he's truly lost it this time.

"What are you talking about?"

Miles smiled cheekily at you as he played the video of your singing. You immediately grew embarrassed as you felt your face heat up and eyes widen.

"Miles, I'll kill you!"

You shouted as you charged towards your older brother who hid behind his mom.

"Baby, this is great! We signed you up for vocal lessons and even got you a meeting with a manager tomorrow, that's...if you say yes, of course."

Your mom trailed off.

"You better say yes, this stuff wasn't cheap!"

Jeff complained as your mom shot him a glare.

"Fine, I'll do it."

You said as you smiled from your families interest in you and your interests. You and your family conversed on some logistics and commitments that you will have to make for this newfound hobby. With that, there was just one more question to ask...

"So, what will your artist name be? We need a name to put on the email to the record label."

You looked up at your older brother and smiled before saying...

"Mariposa."

-------------------☆-☆-☆-☆-------------------

THIS IS ITTT 🤑🤑

The first post after my lil hiatus 🤧

Anyway, I hope yall liked it and thanks to the anon who sent this, ima answer the other request I got too!

💞💞

#miles morales #across the spiderverse #earth 1610 miles morales x reader #earth 1610 miles morales #miles morales fluff #miles morales fanfiction #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x sister!reader #miles x reader #miles morales x reader #miles morales x black!reader #singer #women in music

30 notes · View notes

blouisparadise · 10 months

Text

Here are some amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of June. We really hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) All This Time | Teen & Up | 1046 words

Louis Tomlinson had been best friends with flower shop owner Gemma Styles for years. It wasn't until she suggested he date her alpha brother that he ever thought of Harry that way. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea...

2) On The Borderline Tonight | Mature | 1470 words

Note: The main pairing is Louis/Ethan Hawke.

Louis is an artist in need of inspiration. He finds it one sunny afternoon in a Brooklyn coffee shop.

3) Everything Is So Fine, Little Bit Of Sunshine | Not Rated | 2,009 words

Fluffy PWP of catboy Louis and his boyfriend Harry.

4) Soulmated | Mature | 2046 words

Niall forces Louis on a date. Ends differently than both of them expected.

5) Beauty And The Beast | Explicit | 2216 words

A virginal Louis is ‘sacrificed’ to the Beast to ensure the safety of his village. Dressed in ceremonial attire, Louis is locked in the stocks at nightfall and offered up to the Beast.

6) Darling, Just Hold On | Explicit | 2481 words

“I’m actually dying for a piss, but I don’t really know what to do about that. Here’s COACOAC.”

7) Thank You Five! | Explicit | 2719 words

It’s fifteen minutes to the start of Harry’s set and he is nowhere to be seen, much to the stress of everyone else……it might be that he is a little busy with a certain blue-eyed Doncaster lad.

8) Obey Your Alpha | Explicit | 3413 words

Harry and Louis are mated, but Simon isn't happy about it. He ends up separating them from each other. All is good though.

9) Don't You Know That I Am Right Here? | Mature | 4314 words

Louis is proud to be an Omega but his journey hasn’t been exactly easy so far. There’s nothing technically “wrong” with him, or so his doctor likes to remind him when he goes to see him every year since he was 15. His situation is more unusual than a medical problem, but it doesn’t mean most alphas will see it that way. When yet another inconvenient heat threatens to disturb his grad school move-out date, he sets a plan in motion. Enter best friend and gentle alpha Harry Styles.

10) I Can't Get You Off My Mind (I Still Crave It) | Mature | 4519 words

"You're an idiot," It was Lya's time to interrupt. "Why would you want another guy when you already have yours? Don't you ever get tired of those silly games?" "It is different!," Louis defended himself again, mouth open. "How come it is different?," Lya asked again. "I love Harry," it was easy like breathing. "He's the love of my life, I'm going to marry him," Louis looked around, until his eyes looked with Harry's, glossy and vibrant. "That guy was just a hook."

11) The Way to My Heart | Teen & Up | 6516 words

Louis' having a bit of a dry spell, until he bumps into an attractive alpha in the supermarket and leaves with his number. It was a hard bump. Very... muscular. The only problem is, said alpha asks Louis to cook for him - which is not exactly his skill set.

12) New Alpha | Mature | 6841 words

Request: Can you do omega Louis goes into heat and Harry finds him. They mate and Louis get's pregnant. But with more story behind it. Thanks (I know it's standard. But I really love werewolf stories.)

13) Rock My World | Mature | 14238 words

Harry threw the burly guy off the hot, clueless man in seconds. Harry turned his back to the pit of rowdy men and planted his feet to keep them steady. “Are you okay, kid?” The man he saved was even more beautiful than Harry expected. His tiny, elfish nose crinkled at the pet-name. The black lines around his eyes made his blue eyes even more striking. His cheekbones were prominent, making his overall frame even more small. “My name is Louis and I’m fine. Get off me, perve!” Harry hadn’t realized he’d kept his free hand against the small of his back or that it kept the man pressed directly his chest. Harry hated releasing him even in the slightest; Louis was much safer here. “Can you not see I’m security? That it’s my job to save idiots like you?” “Idiot?” Louis shouted to be heard over the man currently screaming his head off into the microphone. “Well, I’m sorry for being small, you dick! Not my fault they slammed into me!”

14) One Day I'll Come Into Your World And Get It Right (A Relaxing Afternoon.... Or Is It?) | Explicit | 14652 words

Zayn treated Louis to an afternoon massage with his friend Harry. They meant well. But Louis was sensitive, and Harry found him too much for his taste and... They're going to send Zayn a fruit basket.

15) What's Left Of My Halo's Black | Explicit | 22464 words As Harry sucks lovebites into Louis’ neck, Louis hopes that one day those marks will cover the way he can still feel Alex’s handprints burned into his flesh. As Harry’s nails drag scratches along Louis’ back, Louis hopes that one day the scabs on his heart will heal and drop away just like the scabs on his skin. As Harry fucks him down into the mattress, the bed shaking with every thrust, Louis hopes that one day his mouth will forget the shape of Alex’s name, won’t trace it over and over as the heat builds inside him, won’t want to scream it when he comes. Maybe one day he’ll open his eyes, as he slowly floats down from his post-orgasm haze, and won’t expect to see Alex’s face smiling back at him. But today is not that day.

16) True Blue | Explicit | 23409 words

Louis has always prided himself on making plans. His freshman year of high school he’d spent the entire night color-coding a five-year plan to get him to the exact career that he’s in today. When his parents wouldn’t let him and Zayn see the midnight premiere of the final Harry Potter, he’d crafted an intricate slideshow mapping out each outcome that his parents were worried about and countering every argument they’d tried to give. Just last week he’d sat down with Harry and forced him to listen to his ten-step process for them to secure the front row at their favorite artist’s show. It’s with this experience under his belt that he starts to devise another plan. One to start pulling his weight and also to prove to Harry and everyone that he is very much capable of fending for himself, thank you very much.

17) Hope Your Life Leads You Back To My Door | Explicit | 56709 words

“What’s the matter?” Louis asked quickly, eyes wide in alarm. “I’ve never done this before. I’ve never gone anywhere alone like this,” Harry whispered, his voice shaky. Louis didn’t look surprised, but there was something really fiery about him as he spoke again. “Then come now,” he insisted with a grin. “Just trust me. Get on this train with me and I promise you’ll have so much fun.” Louis Tomlinson wasn’t ever someone Harry thought he’d trust or look to with such open admiration for having the spirit to do things like this, but suddenly, he did. He trusted him and he wanted this. He was going to do it.

18) Where I Burn To Be | Explicit | 143346 words

There were very few people who managed to get under Louis’ skin as effortlessly as Harry had, and even fewer who had done it in only a day and a half. It was quite an accomplishment, really. They’d only interacted a handful of times and yet Louis had the insatiable desire to slam the locker into that frustratingly well-defined face that never seemed to hold any expressions other than contempt and arrogance. “That’s right. I do own the skies. And you wanna know why?” he sneered. Without his boots on, Louis was a fair bit shorter than Harry, his eyes pretty much level with Harry’s chin and his socked toes bumping into the boots of the other man, close enough that Louis could make out the tiny scar on Harry’s brow and the individual shades of emerald in his irises. He was handsome, but that only made Louis hate him more. Heart thumping heavily against his sternum and his hands balled into fists, Louis lifted his chin defiantly and plastered a coldhearted smirk across his lips. “Because I’m the best goddamn pilot here.”

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

#bottom louis #top harry #larry #fic recs #blp fic recs #monthly fic recs

120 notes · View notes

thewriterg · 1 year

Text

♡︎𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧♡︎

Pairing(s): Tasm!Peter Parker x Fem!reader,

Summary: Usually your best friend Peter always had something to say but when you finally reveal your Halloween costumes to each other he’s finally speechless —flufftober day; 16—

Word count: 1.0k

Warning(s): Fluff, Mutual Pinning, and Language

A/n: —GIF’s aren’t mine—

You stood over your stove flipping the omelette that sizzled and hissed in the non-stick pan you read the time on your microwave which read 7:15 the clock being ten minutes early it still urged you to get a move on your day

The tap on your window had you turning from your position facing away from it staring down at the frying eggs in the pan to your window by your dining table with Peter staring back at you his nose slightly red from the unusual cold in October you grabbed a hand towel that sat on your countertop wiping your hands while walking towards the glass pushing it up with your palms while moving over to let the boy have a clear space to land on your floor

“Hi” He smiled over your shoulder before pressing a kiss to your cheek

“Hi Pete, made breakfast” You stated mirroring his actions before you were hissing swatting the brunette hand away from your shoulder while he laughed lights at your furrowed brows and offended expression

“Why are your hands so cold, that can’t be healthy” You moved back over to your stove taking the spatula slipping it under the omelette and onto the empty plate that sat on the counter next to another plate that had your own omelette on it filled with pepper, tomatoes, and spinach while Peters just consisted of cheese and bacon bits.

“I got that horrible apple juice you like, I saw it at the store and picked some up it’s in the fridge and there’s some in the pantry too” You stated nonchalantly

“Well aren’t you the sweetest” Peter seemingly teased opening you double door fridge to grab a bottle everything was obsessively organized as Peter would say before shutting the door and cracking the bottle open making his way to sit in a his chair in the dining room watching as you shuffled on your feet through the kitchen

“I found our party for this year” You called over your shoulder before carrying two plates in your hand sitting them down on the table before taking a seat yourself

“Yea, Where is it?” The vigilante asked before not waisting another second to dig into his food groaning at the taste while you shook your head failing to hide your own smile

“It’s in Brooklyn, about a twenty minute drive maybe thirty with traffic everyone in school is going” You hummed taking a few bites out of your own food while Peter nodded along

“Hey so I was thinking, what if let our costumes be a surprise this year” Peter suggested looking over at you occasionally you both had the same ritual since you were twelve you’d go to a Halloween party and then trick or treating and the looks on old ladies faces when they saw two teenagers on the brink of being adults In front of mere toddlers and fourth graders were hilarious

“That doesn’t sound bad, sure why not” You agreed before you and Peter both made small conversation over breakfast until it was time for you both to go to school

ꨄꨄꨄ

You’d been in the store for less than thirty minutes trying to find a decent costume giving up on the Halloween section and making you way towards normal clothes you seen a pair of red and black striped tights and you immediately thought of Mavis from Hotel Transylvania

Picking up the tights and shoving them in your basket you then moved around the clothing rack to find a little black dress soonly after having plenty pairs of converse in your closet one of the colors consisting of red

You began to make your way into the very short line of checkout before you’d seen it you had put all of the things in your basket on a rack of things for when people changed their minds before you grabbed it and checked out at one of the unoccupied cash register

Oh you would get a load of this.

ꨄꨄꨄ

Peter had been waiting for you for a small while only about five minutes leaning on the trunk of your car his hands shoved in the pockets of his black trousers before you’d finally walked out of your building with a sort of skip in your step while he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at your attire

You wore grey sweatpants and Gap zip up hoodie and Jordan 1’s and identical pare to which Peter usually wore while he wore black slacks, a white button up with fake blood stained on its collar and ‘dripping’ from the corners of his mouth and fangs temporarily glued on his teeth

“Hey, where’s your cost-”

“Close your eyes if you wanna seem my surprise!” You cut him off before he could finish his sentence he warily but his hands over his eyes confusion etched on his features you quietly slipped of your sweatpants and if weren’t for Peters enchanted hearing he wouldn’t have heard you unzipped you hoodie but he didn’t look anyway

“Alright now open” Peter opened his eyes his mouth going slightly agape at the sight of you. You were wearing his suit and it hugged every inch of your body delicately and for once Peter didn’t have a thing to say

“Do you like it?” The corners of your mouth edged up into a smile while you spun in a small circle giving Peter a small fashion show

“You look, you look amazing” Ten brunette still could barely find the words in his throat but at forced some to come to the surface anyway

“Of course you would say that, I’m you” You playfully rolled your eyes before unlocking your car while Peter mirrored your actions with a small smile that didn’t go unnoticed by you

Yes you were dressed as Peter but he was %100 sure that you were the better reflection.

#peter parker #tasm spiderman #tasm peter x reader #tasm peter x you #tasm!peter fluff #tasm!peter x y/n #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #the avengers #avengers x reader #flufftober #kinktober #fall 2022 #romance #fluff #fem!reader #i love you #thewriterg

290 notes · View notes

sashaisready · 2 months

Text

The Blood Pact: Chapter 15 - I love you

Bucky Barnes Vampire AU x Female Reader

Series Masterlist

Chapter 16

Arghhh here we go! Warnings here for violence/severe injury/bleeding/physical fighting/death. We have one more chapter to go after this. Hope you enjoy (if that's the right word??) As always, reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

Of course you didn’t make it very far to the door before Rumlow tackled you, pushing you to the ground with such force that it winded you. You wheezed and gasped as he trapped you underneath his weight, chuckling to himself.

“C’mon angel, you know better than most that you can’t outrun us”.

The adrenaline hit you and you began to wriggle beneath him, your fists managing to land a few blows as you kicked and struggled. You knew you didn’t stand much of a chance, but you weren’t going to make it easy for him – you weren’t going down without a fight.

He continued to laugh hollowly but you could see from his face that it bothered him, particularly when your nails made contact with his cheek and you scratched a decent line into him. He growled and clutched your wrists, pinning them above your head.

“Don’t get me wrong sugar, I like them to have a bit of fight in ‘em. Gets me going when they squirm and try their luck. But you’re going to stop that unless you want to hurt yourself”.

You glared at him defiantly, hatred seeping through every pore. You were terrified but mainly you were angry, furious at him for daring to touch you, for hiding in your private space and defiling where you felt safest. You watched him silently, and just when he thought you were docile you hocked a wad of spit into his face. You smiled with satisfaction as he wiped his eye, his disgust evident as his mouth curled in anger.

He struck you between the eyes with his fist and you winced as the pain radiated through your skull. You managed to stifle a whimper, not wanting him to give him the upper hand, continuing your stoic glare as your forehead pulsed.

“See? You don’t play nice, I don’t play nice” he snarled.

“What do you want?” you demanded, trying to ignore the sweat pooling at the back of your neck. “Why are you in here? Get off me. You’ve had your fun. You need to leave”.

“You’re not being a very good hostess” he laughed, looking down at you mockingly. “I’m here as a guest, and I haven’t been fed. Surely you know what comes next?”

Your stomach dropped, but your mask remained intact. He must’ve hidden in here after everyone left and Steve and Bucky went to sleep.

“I thought you didn’t eat humans” you managed to croak out.

He shrugged. “Not always. Trying to be ‘civilised’ like your boyfriend, and his boyfriend. But I’m afraid prepacked bags just don’t hit the spot anymore, y’know? Even familiars when it's straight from the artery - they’re just too damn eager. It’s like eating the blandest meal every day, and I’m hungry for something else. Something I’ve chased. Something I’ve caught. There’s nothing quite like a real meal, an authentic meal, princess. Nothing tastes quite like fear does”.

You watched him, desperately pondering your next move. Your fear was manageable if you concentrated on problem solving instead. If you could just get to the shades and open them, get the sun in here…Was there anything in your room you could use as a stake? A leg from your desk or chair maybe? But he wouldn’t let you up long enough to try that. Could you even get a leg off? Would you even have the physical strength to drive it through his chest? You weren’t Buffy. Could you trick him somehow? If you could just wake up Steve and Bucky…but how? They slept like the dead. They were dead. You’d never managed to wake them during the day…But if you could maybe just…

“Besides…” he continued, his breathing heavy. “I have been thinking about this pretty face since I saw you in the park”.

His icy finger ran from your chin up your cheek, tickling over your nose. You winced at his touch, rolling your head away from him. You felt your limbs begin to tremble with fear, doing your best to steady them.

“Looks like Barnes has certainly been enjoying his cute little blood bag” he said menacingly, his clumsy hand brushing over the small puncture wounds on your neck.

You twisted yourself into the floor trying to move away from his fingers. It felt wrong for him to touch such an intimate area, to dare intrude on your private intimacy with Bucky. Revulsion rolled in your stomach.

“We’re friends after all, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind sharing…”

You cried out in disgust as he leaned over you, his tongue sloppily licking at your neck as you flinched and attempted to push him off. He hummed with satisfaction.

“Oh yeah…I’m gonna enjoy this” he muttered as he bared his fangs.

“Wait!” you cried out. “Like you just said - Bucky is your friend…Steve is your friend. You really think they’re going to be okay with you hurting me like this?

It wasn’t much, but maybe you could try talk him out of it.

He shrugged. “Eh. Friend is a strong word. More like acquaintances really…”

He smiled down at you again, now baring his fangs and you knew your time was running out.

“H-how are you going to get out?” you sputtered. “The sun is up. You can’t leave. They’ll catch you in here when they wake…they’ll know what you did. They won’t like it”.

That seemed to give him pause. He considered your words for a moment, the tiniest hint of concern crossing his expression.

“If you stop…I’ll let you stay in here. You can sleep” you babbled. “Then I’ll let you out when the sun’s down. If they catch you leaving I’ll just tell them you got lost on your way out last night and fell asleep in here. Nobody has to know. We’ll just put this behind us…”

Bucky definitely wouldn’t believe that version of events. He’d instantly know something was up. Steve would probably catch on too. But Rumlow didn’t need to know that…

He mulled over your bargain. You could now see from his reluctant face that the thought of inciting Bucky’s (and Steve’s) wrath irked him somewhat. Here you were giving him an out, it wasn’t too late. Clearly he was tempted by your proposition.

Just when you thought he might be listening, his contemplative expression morphed into a predatory smirk and his fangs appeared once more. Your heart sank and your eyes widened with fear.

“I think I’m just going to try my luck” he growled. “I’m much faster and stronger after a decent breakfast, so I’ll take my chances”.

You yelped and shrieked as you tried your hardest to get away, but it was fruitless. You did everything you could to try and kick out, writhing and attempting to free your hands, uttering curses at him and calling him all manner of awful names, screaming out for Bucky, for Steve - anything to stop him or at least slow him down, but all to no avail. Your cries echoed throughout the otherwise silent house.

As he lined up his mouth with your neck you stared up desperately at the cord to the window shades just a few feet away. If you could just grab it, pull them open and reveal the sun – you’d be okay…

The sting of the bite was worse than you expected. You had done it hundreds of times with Bucky and Steve, but this was different. Pain took over you entirely as you let out a cry of despair, it felt like your neck was on fire as you felt the skin break and the initial blood leak from you. There was none of their tenderness or care, none of their compassion. This felt more like you were a farm animal lined up at the slaughterhouse.

Rumlow lapped at you greedily, uttering squelching noises of contentment which made you sick to your stomach. Your were rigid with fear and tension, every hair on your body standing on end as your squeezed your eyes shut and tried to imagine yourself somewhere else. Anywhere else.

“That’s enough” you feebly whispered after a few minutes, your weak hand reaching up to try and bat him away. “You’ve had enough. You don’t need any more”.

He stopped fleetingly and looked down at you, your stolen blood framing his mouth grotesquely and elevating his smile to become something even more sinister.

“Oh angel, I’m not stopping” he laughed cruelly as he wiped his lip. “Your boy toy might make do with a few ounces but that’s not enough for me…”

He looked into your eyes, seemingly enjoying the fear staring back at him.

“I’m gonna drain you, princess” he said menacingly as he moved back to the open wound. “Empty this blood bag. Every. Last. Drop”.

The surge of terror was mercifully quick at least, as the fog finally hit you seconds later and he fed once more. It was nothing like Bucky’s, of course. Nothing like Steve’s either. But it was welcomed, a calming anaesthetic which left you numb and absorbed the pain and the fear. Your body slackened as you became dizzy, you felt like you were dreaming – your limbs suddenly too hefty to move. But you weren’t scared. You weren’t anything.

At least it would be over soon.

It was hard to think clearly now. Difficult to make much out. You wondered if you should be doing something, fighting maybe? Even through your haze you knew this was wrong. Bad. You should be panicking, struggling. But you couldn't muster the strength to do anything but lay there. You could feel your life force melting away as you became weaker, and weaker…

Your eyes fluttered close and there was one coherent thought amongst the cloud.

Bucky.

Oh, Bucky. You were so sorry. So sorry that you weren’t strong enough. But you can’t win every fight, can you? He knew that better than anyone. He’d spent most of his life fighting. There’s always the victor and the loser. Eventually we all lose. You hoped that he would know you fought, that you tried. It wasn’t enough but you fought as best you could. You went down swinging, you didn’t go quietly. You didn’t blame him for any of this, you hoped he knew that too. The time you’d spent with him had been the happiest of your life. You loved him. you loved him. How sorry you were that you’d never told him, how foolish that was. You should have told him the minute you knew. You’d wasted so much time with the silly fights and squabbles. You’d do it all differently if you had your time again. You loved him. You loved him.

You didn’t realise that you’d started to repeat his name over and over, a quiet prayer filling the room and helping to drown out the unholy noises from elsewhere. Bucky. Bucky. Bucky.

Time to go now, time at last for peace. It would be quiet at least. Bucky.

Bucky, Bucky.

Goodnight, my darling.

The noise as you slipped away was deafening. You could never have imagined how loud it would be. Why was it loud? Wasn’t it meant to be peaceful when you went? Not the sound of screaming. Not the sound of splintering wood and heavy feet racing across floorboards.

The pressure suddenly left your neck and your eyes fluttered open. It was a swirl of colours and shapes around you, a blur, a mass of shadows. You tried to focus but it was hard to see. Your hand moved to your neck and you felt the wetness of blood on your fingers. It was all so loud. Had you gone? Was this it?

No. You were still on the floor of your bedroom. You reached out and felt the solidness of the boards under your body to be sure. Just what was that noise?

You turned towards the source of the chaos. It was over by your bed, two figures. Was it two? They seemed to be…rolling. Fighting. They were yelling. One was roaring, his fists pummelling mercilessly into the other.

Then as if the lens on a camera suddenly focused, you could see it all. You were back in the room. It was Bucky atop of Rumlow, he looked animalistic, his face contorted in rage. He was striking Rumlow over and over, the sounds of his fist connecting with muscle and bone made a sickening thwack. You see the blood splashing onto the floor beneath.

Bucky?

How did he get here? Was this a dream? Or a final hallucination as you laid unconscious?

Bucky stopped and glanced over at you as Rumlow groaned and stirred beneath him. His eyes were full of fear as he took you in, the sheer panic on his face telling you everything you needed to know about how you must look.

But there would be time for Bucky. You needed to eliminate the problem first. The haze had suddenly lifted and everything was crystal clear. You knew what needed to be done.

With your last ounce of strength you shakily moved up onto your knees, Bucky was crying out and telling you to be still. You ignored him, shuffling weakly over to the window. You felt like your legs each weighed a ton, your muscles screaming in pain as you dared to move your body. But you pushed through, hobbling on your hands and knees as a surge of adrenaline gave you a final boost. You pressed yourself against the wall to support your weight and then wrapped your hand around the shade cord. You looked over at Bucky, then your eyes darted to the en-suite door and back to him once more. He swallowed with apprehension but nodded, and before your knew it he had soared past – disappearing into the bathroom and slamming the door shut. Rumlow was left behind, nothing but whimpering mess trying to crawl away.

"Goodbye, you piece of shit" you snarled over at him.

The second you knew Bucky was safe you allowed your shaking legs to give out and your body slumped against the wall. The motion meant the cord came with you and the shades shot up to their hilt, allowing the room to fill with brilliant sunlight. You had never been so happy to see the sun, and you’d never take it for granted again.

Rumlow never saw it coming. The sun enveloped him and the screaming started. TV taught you that killing vampires meant they would instantly turn into a neat pile of dust, but Rumlow immolated. Flames swept over him and he screeched in agony as he burned and burned. It was far more brutal than you could have ever imagined. You couldn’t look away, frozen in horror as you watched him writhe and convulse. The smell was overpowering with a sickening sweet tang which was vomit inducing. You gagged and choked, your free hand covering your mouth. His face melted away, losing any recognition of anything vaguely human.

Thankfully it stopped shortly afterwards, the flames gently subsided and you were left with nothing but a pile of his scorched bones in the middle of your bedroom – a charred, black ring stained the floor and perfectly circled his remains.

You could faintly hear Bucky shouting to you from behind the bathroom door but your mind was too fuzzy to fully make it out. You’d done it, you’d won. You smiled to yourself, taking a second to revel in your victory. Then the surge adrenaline of vanished as fatigue flooded you once again. The pain radiated deeply, it felt like your body was switching itself off piece by piece. All you wanted to do was sleep. Just for a little while. Your hand let go of the cord you had been clinging onto for dear life as you finally slumped to the ground. The shades fluttered as they slammed down, taking the day with them.

You leaned your head against the wall as you heard the bathroom door rip open and furious footsteps zipped over to you. Cold hands cupped your face as your eyes slipped close and everything went quiet. He was trying to say something to you but you couldn’t hear him, the darkness was coming thick and fast and you couldn’t stop it. He shook you to try keep you awake and you limply reached up, curling a weak finger around the hand which framed your cheek.

“I love you, Bucky” you managed to whisper.

And then finally…sleep.

Peace.

At least you’d got to tell him.

#Vampire bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #the blood pact fic #james bucky barnes #Vampire bucky au #Vampire bucky x you #Vampire bucky x reader

26 notes · View notes