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#rip I can’t believe no one called her on this in the show
canibalistic-brownie · 5 months
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Did a rewatch of Glimmer’s battle plan and I just realized that Catra calls her “Glimmah” the way her mom would and Sigmund Freud is laughing like the devil on my shoulder.
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bonewreath · 1 month
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞! ** 𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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summary: modern au; ellie moves to a big city to escape the past. she goes to her first lesbian bar, where she meets you.
cw: porn with…a whisper of plot; alcohol use, fingering (e!receiving), strap-on sex, bottom!ellie, slightly sub!ellie, she’s whiny here
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Ellie’s never been to a lesbian bar.
It’s surreal - banners of colorful pride flags are strung across the room, some of which she can’t even identify. Distressed and faded posters are plastered on the stone walls, advertising drag shows and queer punk bands with names like The Cranky Dykes and T-Girl Social. Nearly every patron is tatted or pierced, and there’s more platform boots and fishnet clothing than Ellie’s ever seen in one place before. Before she’d moved to the city, Ellie had lit up with excitement at the thought of visiting a lesbian bar. But now, in her worn Harley Davidson tee and a pair of jeans with unintentional rips at the knees, she feels very much out of her depth. 
Steeling her nerves, she internally reminds herself that this is exactly why she’d moved in the first place - she needed new experiences. She needed unfamiliarity. What she’d left back in Texas was her normal, and she planned to build a new normal here. One that was the antithesis of everything she’d known before. 
The bar isn’t completely packed, but she does need to push past dancing, sweaty bodies, girls sucking on each other’s faces, and chatting cliques to get to the edge of the bar, where more clusters of people are calling out drink orders and thrusting wads of cash tips at the bartenders. By some miracle, an empty barstool presents itself after a drunken patron with a mohawk stumbles out of it, and Ellie swoops in to snatch it before someone else does. She sits there for a good few minutes, trying to capture a bartender’s attention, until someone shuffles up beside her and sticks a hand out to wave one over. And, of course, they notice immediately, heading over with a towel slung over their shoulder. Ellie sinks lower into her seat, cheeks burning.
“I’ll have a spicy marg,” the woman beside Ellie says, voice projecting loud enough to hear over the clamor of music and chatter. The bartender nods, then goes to step away, but the woman next to Ellie stops her, speaking with that attention-commanding voice.
“What are you having?” 
The bartender’s gaze shifts to Ellie, still hunched over and beet-red in the face. She flushes impossibly redder when she looks up at the woman who’d just ordered, realizing that the question had been directed at her. 
“Oh,” she blurts, posture straightening. She glances at the woman, anxiety flaring, then back at the bartender. “Um, an old fashioned. Please. Thanks.”
Just as quickly as they’d come, the bartender disappears again, off to pour precisely-measured shots and mix cocktails in shiny silver shakers. Ellie’s hands are in her lap, fiddling restlessly, when she finally forces herself to look up at the woman who’d practically had to order for her. 
You smile at her when she meets your gaze. Though she’s trying to be subtle about it, you can feel the way Ellie drinks in your every feature, eyes flickering over your face, then your body. It’s obvious that she likes what she sees, because she has a hard time looking you in the eye again. 
“Thanks,” she says. “I’ve been trying to order for a while.”
“So I saw,” you respond, but not unkindly. You take a moment to look her over, although you’d already done plenty of that before you’d even approached her - you had seen her from across the bar, looking forlorn, her leg bouncing beneath the edge of the bar as she tried (and failed) to order herself a drink. Her lack of confidence is what piqued your interest; it was hard to believe that someone that gorgeous wasn’t oozing arrogance and self-importance. She’s all lean muscles and shaggy hair, her forearm decorated with a sprawling fern tattoo. You could already imagine yourself running your hands through that hair, kissing the length of her sharp jawline, pulling those narrow hips up against your own. 
At a lesbian bar, a hot girl who couldn’t carry herself with confidence usually meant one of two things: she’s fresh out of a breakup, or she’d never been somewhere like this. You’re determined to find out which of the two applies to her.
“What’s your name? I haven’t seen you here before.” You angle your body to face Ellie, popping your hip out as subtly as you can. 
Ellie, determined to keep her eyes on your face and not the curve of your hip or the delicious sliver of cleavage peeking out of your square-neck top, peers up at you from behind her bangs. “Uh, yeah, I’ve never been. I just moved here. I’m Ellie - what’s your name?”
You tell her your name and she repeats it slowly, like she’s tasting every syllable. “Pretty.”
Your drinks arrive before you can fumble for a response. 
“Spicy marg, old fashioned,” the bartender lists as they slide your drinks over the smooth wood of the bar. Ellie murmurs her thanks and you nod at the bartender before they disappear, your hand curling around the glass. 
“Cheers?” You tip your drink towards Ellie. She clinks her own glass against yours and the two of you take your first sips, the bitterness of the alcohol burning its way down your throat. You feel it settle in your stomach, warm and satisfying. 
“So,” you begin, licking jalapeño and lime-tinged tequila from your lips. Ellie’s eyes follow the movement for a moment before she catches herself and looks away. “Where’d you move from?”
Ellie smiles shyly. You watch her index finger trace the rim of her glass. “Texas.”
“Oh?” One of your brows lifts. “And what made you want to move here, Texas?”
“For one, I’m gay.” 
“Thank you for stating the obvious.”
She lets out a little laugh, and the sound makes you want to grin - you take a sip of your margarita instead. 
“I just… Couldn’t be there anymore,” she elaborates. “It wasn’t right for me. I needed to start fresh.”
You don’t say anything for a moment, letting Ellie’s words sink in. Clearly, something severe enough had happened to make her want to shed her life in Texas like an old skin. And this lesbian bar, filled with every unique kind of queer this city had to offer, was part of this new version of Ellie - the version she’d chosen to build from the ground up. You’re struck by how brave Ellie must be for that. And yeah, maybe she’d struggled to order a drink for herself, but that didn’t take away from her bravery - not when she’d willfully chosen to uproot her life, a decision most people could never follow through with. 
“I’m impressed,” you say honestly. “And I hope the city gives you what you’re looking for.”
The corners of Ellie’s lips twitch, and that pretty blush fights its way onto her cheeks again. You’re about to say something when you hear the first notes of one of your favorite songs thumping through the speakers, a few other bargoers cheering to express their own excitement. 
“Dance with me,” you say to Ellie, reaching forward with your free hand to grab her forearm. She looks up at you like a deer in headlights.
“I can’t dance.”
“Doesn’t matter, just follow my lead. C’mon.”
“I don’t know if—”
“Didn’t you come here to try new things?” You curl your fingers around Ellie’s wrist, and she lets you pull her to her feet. You’ve made a good point, and she doesn’t argue again - just follows you to the dancefloor, where dozens of others are already moving to the beat of the music, hips rolling, heads nodding. The lights pulsate in the vibrant colors of the rainbow, the crowd painted shades of sunset orange, hot pink, deep indigo. You sip your drink and start to dance, turning to face Ellie; she’s gaping at you, unmoving. 
“Come here,” you say, having to shout over the music. Ellie steps closer to you as you move to the rhythm, hips swishing. You’re wearing a pair of flared pants that makes your ass look incredible, and after Ellie finally starts to dance along with you, you turn around to bring your backside closer to her. As if by instinct, Ellie’s arm loops around your waist - she presses her palm into the front of your pelvis, rolls her hips against your ass. You grin, wide and self-satisfied, as you lift your drink to your lips again - only to realize it’s almost gone. You make a mental note to head back to the bar after this song, but for now, you enjoy the last few drops of your margarita, revelling in the feeling of Ellie’s hand, strong on your hip, as she presses ever-closer into you from behind. 
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Ellie’s in awe of you. 
The way you’d strolled up beside her at the bar, posture proud, buying Ellie a drink and flirting with her like it was easy, natural. The way you’d let your eyes wander over her figure, not shy at all about the lust in your gaze. The way you’d dragged her to the dancefloor and ground your ass back against her, smelling like lime and tequila and something headier, something distinctly you. 
Now, after two strong drinks and several songs-worth of dancing with you, Ellie’s so turned on she feels like a live wire, sparks erupting from her every nerve. 
On the dancefloor, Ellie had looped her arm around your hips, leaning in so close she could smell the liquor on your breath. You’d needed to fight down every urge to kiss her first - you weren’t even sure if she’d ever kissed another woman before, and you’d already done enough to pull her out of her shell for the night. But Ellie had leaned her forehead against yours, noses brushing, eyes fluttering shut… And your mouths had crashed together in the sort of kiss you’re going to have a very hard time forgetting.
After making out in the crowd like that for god knows how long, you’d invited Ellie back to your apartment. Which brings you to your current predicament: Ellie’s backed up against the front door, your hand under her shirt, fingers dancing over every inch of her deliciously solid abdomen. If Ellie’s inexperienced, she’s doing a fabulous job of pretending she isn’t. But you’re not sure just how innocent she is now, as she moans unabashedly into your mouth, your hand squeezing her tits over her sports bra. 
“Hey,” you breathe, pulling back from the heated kiss you’d been sharing. 
“Mm?” Ellie blinks at you, dazed. You want to ruin her. 
“Is this okay?” You peck at her lips, then her cheek. “We don’t have to… Do anything. Not if you don’t want to.” 
Ellie’s bangs are gorgeously tousled, and she looks at you like a kicked puppy - all round eyes and furrowed brows, worried you’re taking something from her. “But I… I want to.” 
“You sure?” 
Ellie nods. 
“Have you ever been with another woman before?” Your stomach twists at the directness of your own question, but you really want to know. Need to know. A bar hookup might not be the best way for her to pop her cherry - or, at least, her gay cherry. 
Then again, it’s not exactly unheard of in the community.
“Yeah. I have,” Ellie says, her hand reaching out to grab your hip. 
You find yourself wanting to pry, dig deeper for more information, but there’s no real reason for it. She’s not entirely new to this. She wants you. That’s all that really matters, right?
So you take her to your bedroom, let her undress you with shaky, calloused hands, kiss her slow and sweet while she unbuttons her jeans and kicks them aside. You help each other undress until you’re both naked, and then you’re stumbling into bed, your legs straddling Ellie’s hips as you kiss down her neck, stopping to suck pretty purple bruises into the sensitive skin. Ellie makes a noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper, sending another white-hot jolt of arousal through you. Your cunt is spread over her pelvis, and you grind down against her like that, letting out a pleased sound of your own.
 “God, you’re so hot,” Ellie mutters, watching you roll your hips as you kiss down to her chest. She reaches for your tits, squeezes them in her palms. 
“Yeah?” You smile, sharp and wolfish, down at Ellie. She looks at you like she can’t believe this is happening - like she can’t believe you’re real. “Gonna let me fuck you, Ellie?”
She moans at the obscenity of the question, nodding quickly. “Yes, god, please fuck me.”
“Mm,” you hum, “need to get you ready first, baby.”
Ellie’s breathing is ragged, her hips lifting, seeking friction. You climb down her body until you’re settled between her legs, pulling her knees apart to give yourself access to her center. She’s fucking soaked - you bite your lip at the sight of her, clit swollen and puffy, labia shining with arousal. 
You start with one finger, dipping into the wetness pooled at her entrance and spreading it up to her clit, drawing sharp breaths and staggering moans from Ellie’s kiss-bitten lips. Every sound she makes has you yearning to hear more, more. You slide your middle finger into her clenching hole and groan when you feel her walls open up smoothly around the digit. She pulses around you, hot and slick. When you begin pumping your finger in and out of that tight heat, Ellie’s noises become even more drawn-out, even more frantic - you look up at her and find her eyes already on you, dark with lust, a desperate, pleading expression etched onto her face. 
“You’re so fucking pretty, baby,” you coo at her, revelling in the way her pussy tightens at your words. 
“I–nngh, fuck–I need…” She trails off, jaw clenching. 
You fake-pout at her, puff out your lower lip in faux sympathy. “What is it? What do you need?”
“Need more,” Ellie pants out.
“I can give you more, sweetheart,” you reassure her, “all you had to do was ask.”
So, you give her more. You slip another finger inside of her, press the heel of your hand against the sensitive nub of her clit; your fingers curl upwards in the warmth of her cunt, finding that spongy, sensitive spot that’ll make her see stars. She whines - actually fucking whines, high-pitched and desperate, as if to say yes, right there.
“Shit, oh my god…” Ellie’s hands are clutching the sheets, knuckles blanched. “‘M so close.”
You don’t let up, and it only takes a few more moments of your careful ministrations before Ellie’s falling apart, a mess of jolting hips, strangled gasps, and a rush of wetness. You watch her come undone, wishing you could committ the sight to memory. After, you lick your fingers clean.
While Ellie’s spent and recovering from the height of her orgasm, you shuffle to the side of the bed to reach for your nightstand. You roll open the drawer, rummage around, and return to Ellie’s side with a tiny bottle of lube and your strap, the harness made of powder pink fabric. The brunette sighs contentedly when you lean over to kiss her, swiping her sweat-damp bangs away from her forehead. 
“You taste so good, did you know that?” You press another kiss to the corner of Ellie’s lips, feeling the way they twitch into a smile. 
“I really doubt it,” Ellie says.
You scoff. “Don’t doubt my taste.”
“Mm, okay. Fine. I believe you.”
Fighting your own smile, you move back to sit on your heels, cheeks heating when you notice Ellie’s eyes roaming over your naked body. 
“Need something?” 
Ellie nods, then sits up and pulls you in for another kiss, her hand on the back of your neck. “I want you to really fuck me now.” 
“Oh yeah?” You grin at her, your hands making their way to her tits and smoothing over her pebbled nipples. “Think you should learn some manners, Ellie. How about please?”
Her expression goes soft - eyes rounding, mouth pursing. 
“Please,” she says, and her voice is so sweet, it might rot your teeth. “Please fuck me.”
And who are you to deny her what she needs?
As it turns out, Ellie’s pussy was made to take strap. She’s leaned over, face down in one of your pillows, her ass propped up perfectly to give you access to her cunt. Still soaked from her last orgasm, she hardly needs any lube, the strap pushing into her all the way to the hilt without any resistance; she keens when you’re fully seated inside of her, a sound that makes your own pussy throb with need. Every noise she makes is pure heaven - you wish you could record them all, listen to them when you’re in bed at night with your hand between your thighs. 
“Fuuuuck,” Ellie cries out when you hit that sweet spot with the tip of the strap, her head shifting to lean on one side, allowing you to see the look on her face - the roll of her eyes, the way her lips part to let out each of her gasps and moans. 
“How’s that feel, princess?” You ask as you pound into her from behind; you admire the way her back arches deeper, like she’s encouraging you to fuck into her further and further. 
“S-so good,” Ellie stutters weakly. 
“Yeah? Doing so good for me, baby,” you pant. Every slam of your hips against Ellie’s ass makes her grunt, a pleased little sound, short and needy. 
That tiny grunt turns into an impatient whine when you pull out of her entirely, a lewd, wet noise accompanying the motion. 
“Why’d you stop?” Ellie asks, voice small. She cranes her neck to look back at you and the expression on her face is absolutely pathetic.
You give her ass a playful smack, admiring the way it recoils from the contact of your palm. “Want you to flip over. I need to see you come again, you looked so pretty the first time.” 
She does as instructed - she’s already so good at following directions, you’ve learned. When Ellie’s on her back, her face, neck, and chest tinged red with equal parts arousal and exertion, you lean in and whisper praises to her, lining the strap up to her entrance and pushing into her again. 
“Hold your legs up, sweetheart,” you instruct, pushing her thighs up until they’re folded against her body. She nods, panting, and lifts her hands up to hold her legs in place. You slip deeper into her like this; Ellie goes cross-eyed, lips pursed into a pretty “o” shape as you fuck her senseless. It doesn’t take much longer for her to get close again, and when her legs begin to shake with the effort of holding them up for you, you tell her to relax.
“Play with your clit, hm? I want you to come.” 
Ellie nods. “Y-yeah, I can do that. For you.”
“Just for me?” You grin.
“Mm, just for you.”
Her hand shakes as she brings it between her legs, drawing sloppy circles over her clit with her fingers. You keep fucking her, hips snapping restlessly, every lewd squelch of her cunt making you gush wetter and wetter. But as desperate as you are to come, you’re more focused on Ellie - the way she bites her lip, her entire body tense with her impending orgasm. She warns you before she finally tips over the edge: an endless chant of right there, I’m gonna come, you’re gonna make me come, oh my god…
You’re not sure how long you lie there on top of Ellie, still buried inside her, before her breathing finally rights itself again. You spend that time kissing all over her face and running your hands through her auburn hair, untangling a few knotted locks in the process. You’re both covered in a thin layer of sweat, bodies glistening, but neither of you seems to mind. Content to lie there together, you rest until Ellie pulls you in for a kiss - one that turns needy and sloppy not long after. 
“Can I taste you?” Ellie asks between kisses, her lips shiny with saliva. She says it with such hope, like she’s not sure what you’ll say. But you’re still drenched between your legs, inner thighs sticky with it. 
“There’s nothing I want more right now,” you confess. 
So Ellie finds a place between your legs, mouth latching to your clit like it’s muscle memory. You curl a fist into her hair and guide her every move, murmuring instructions, which she follows like the good girl she is. The night continues that way - all whispered pleas and tremoring orgasms, tangled limbs and slick-coated fingers, until the two of you finally doze off, wrapped in each other’s warmth.
And Ellie thinks she’s made a good decision, moving here. Trying something new.
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sanakimohara · 3 months
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My friend just introduced me to a new thing
Bully I.N, he’s just super mean to you, pushes you around, pulls your hair, slaps and gropes you. But then when people are around he’s super nice and the compete opposite of what he just did to you.
And he’s only mean to you, no one else. He’d just randomly slap you or when sitting down just puts his hands in your pants, and duh don’t forget the degrading.
I think it plays into people seeing him as innocent and nice when in reality he’s kinky and fucked up
Just an idea for you if you want 🧡🥰
“TEAR YOU APART” Y. J.
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You and your friend are masterminds, love. 🖤 Now I want to do a series based on this idea! :) but I’ll settle with writing a snippet prequel for the time being… 🖤
[ MDNI ]
++++++
Bully Jeongin starts his campaign against you with name calling -and not the cliche creative kind that people can laugh at. No, he prefers to label you with his own perversions. Taking every chance he can get to whisper in your ear, “How’s my little bitch doing today, hm?..” “Is my slut sad already?…” “You’re such an attention whore. It’s pathetic..” “Where do you think you’re going dumb bunny…” At first you snap back insults but overtime his consistent belittling makes you less angry and increasingly compliant. You’d never admit to him that your resentment was slowly twisting into a form of pining. Your pride wouldn’t allow it…
Bully Jeongin elevates to blackmailing you when the opportunity arises. Pictures and videos of you changing, texts or risqué pictures between you and your previous crush that he’s miraculously gotten his hands on, and maybe even a voice note of you touching yourself that he coerced you into making as ‘punishment’ for even thinking about another guy. “You wouldn’t want him to find out about all these inappropriate pictures you took for me, right?” He had you cornered, faking concern as he held up his phone for you to see. You face paled as pictures of you undressing showed on the screen. How’d he even get those? Why did he have them? “J-Jeongin I never took those! N-not for you, anyway…and you know that!” You try to defend yourself but panic starts to set in as you consider what Jeongin would do to keep you under his heel. He grins, shutting his phone off before slipping it into his pocket as he leans in closer to you. His eyes bare into yours, swirling with mischief as he taunts you, “Who do you think people will believe? Me? Or some whiny little slut who can’t keep her legs closed?…” Your heart sinks as his threat echoes in your brain. “You wouldn’t…” “Oh, you know I would. Don’t act so surprised dumb bunny…”
Bully Jeongin knows you go to your classes/meetings early, follows you there when he can, and uses every minute alone with you to do his worst. No one thinks to come check on you. No one even considers the notion that you’re being groped and slapped around endlessly -up against a wall, on his lap, or bent over a desk. You try to scream or cry but Jeongin learns how to silence you rather quickly. Sinking his fingers into your mouth works best in his opinion, but he’s a fan of gagging you with your own panties too. Either way you’re left panting and nearly in tears as he takes advantage of you. He’s careful not to slap you hard enough to leave a noticeable mark, all the while cooing vulgar praises in your ear as you whine from the stinging pain that sears your cheek, and inevitably your ass gets the same treatment. “What’d I tell you about wearing anything under your skirt, little slut?” He slaps your backside again, harder than before, and you whine into his hand that’s clasped over your mouth, shivering as he snakes his free hand under your skirt to rip the lace fabric off your lower half. The cold air hitting your dripping cunt makes you groan softly and you pray he doesn’t notice the effect his torture has on you, but Jeongin knows…he’s known for a while. That’s why he has no remorse for what he does to you, feels no sympathy as he tucks your panties into his pocket, and is all smiles when he finally lets you go the moment people gradually start to fill the room.
Bully Jeongin is incredibly sweet to everyone but you. Greeting them with the kindest smile -one you’ve never experienced in earnest. His charm resonates through each interaction he has with the staff and close friends. It amazes you how cruel he can be behind closed doors but deep down you wait for those moments….secretly craving them. In those fleeting pockets of time he’s true to his darkest tendencies, fully himself, and in some sick way you begin to believe he only feels comfortable around you to be just that….his truest self. That’s the cynical logic keeping you from snapping, admitting defeat, and openly confessing your crush on him. He’d probably laugh at your stupidity if you did…
Bully Jeongin claims you’re one of his ‘sweetest’ friends when someone asks about your connection to him. He’ll flash a smile your way, placing a firm hand on your lower back to bring you close to his side, and stare down into your soul. He’s daring you to tell the truth, playing with your psyche without even trying, and he’ll win the game so easily that it makes your head spin. Everybody loves him, wants to be with him, but little do they know he’s got you to play with. Why would he pay any mind to anyone else when you were such a familiar, willing, and easy target? You don’t deny him when slips a hand into your panties under the desk/table. You stand obediently when he reaches between your thighs to cup your mound, playing with your soaked folds as you try to focus on doing your job/homework. You moan so timidly into his ear every-time he ruts his hardened cock against your ass, which unconsciously pushes back into him for more, and he’ll let you until you’re interrupted or he comes undone in his pants. The push and pull between you two is finite. He likes it that way and so it’ll stay that way.
Bully Jeongin gets paired/assigned with you for projects/comeback prep more often than you think is possible. You can’t fathom how you end up partners on almost every project/task. Even if you are assigned to work with someone else/another member he still weasels his way in. Sometimes you’re sure he threatens/bribes your current partners off to have your full attention -which is true but you don’t need to know that, now do you…Jeongin surprisingly has morals when it comes to anyone else speaking badly about you. He hates it and will put a stop to it as soon as it starts. Why? He’s the only one allowed to treat you the way he does. That’s why. “….don’t say another fucking word about Y/n. She’s mine. Understand?”
Bully Jeongin loves to make you ride his thigh when you’re supposed to be studying/working. He doesn’t care that someone might hear or see you. He cares even less that you’d rather focus without being horny. “I didn’t ask what you preferred to do…” he mumbles against your lips, one hand on your hip to control how fast you pass your bare cunt over his leg, and the other keeping his phone steady as he records the whole time. You beg him not to, blushing in embarrassment as you hear his camera shutter, “Jeongin….d-don’t..” you half whine half moan as he snaps another picture. “I’ll do what I want. You just keep riding me like a good cumslut…” “M’ not…a cumslut…” you scowl in disapproval at the pet name but the expression fades to a dazed one as his hand on your hips travels down to your ass. He grasps it tight, giving the tender flesh a harsh slap in response to your defiance, “It’s cute that you think that. If you weren’t you wouldn’t be making a mess on my thigh right now and moaning like one..” his smile doesn’t match the darkness in his tone and you swallow a whimper at the contrasting factors. The heat in your core begins to unravel with every disgusting insult his gentle voice spills. “Getting off like this is all you deserve dumb bunny.” “Feels so much better than touching yourself, doesn’t it?” “Why don’t you smile at the camera when you cum. Yeah, just like that. Show ‘em’ how bad you want my cock..” He laughs softly as his words bring tears to your eyes, little droplets trickling down your cheeks as you come undone on his thigh, and try your best to smile through the riveting sensation.
‘click’ he snaps another picture of you, making sure to play with your clit to drag out your high as he does, and your smile morphs into the perfect expression of pleasure.
“Look at you being such a pretty whore for me…” Jeongin smirks, rubbing your clit faster to draw more reactions from you, and succeeding much to your dismay.
‘click’
“Picture perfect slut…”
++++++++
This was quick and sweet but like I said…I’m considering making it into a mini series. 🖤 (I literally have like 4 currently going on rn…omg…)
[ BONUS CONTENT + ]
I wanna lick the longest, sloppiest, sluttiest stripe up his abs/tummy. Like the urge is so real rn… 🖤 Credits to creator 🖤
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klipkillakai · 2 months
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Connie and bae getting into an argument about his friendship with his ex Sasha and she walks out mid argument because he was tryna defend their friendship. She leaves and doesn’t show up until like two weeks later because she knows he’s crazy about her and she wants to test his loyalty (basically seeing if he would come look for her or not) I’ll leave the rest up to you
inner peace 🎋
“i keep telling you about that bitch connie” you spit while throwing clothes in the washing machine with a harshness as your fuming with anger, your not a jealous person.. never, you respect boundaries and you think it’s reasonable for your man to have friends within the opposite sex, within certain bounds, but sasha.. sasha clearly likes him, the way she finds any way to touch him, the way she brightens her voice when talking to him, the way she looks at you when he’s not paying attention, and the way you know she’s had the pleasure of being all over you man’s dick at some point..
you hear connie’s heavy footsteps walk down the hall, knowing he’s looking for you—
“you say that every time she comes over mama, i keep trynna tell you we just friends”
you roll your eyes “please connie.. she be all over you, “oh connie you so funny” “connie remember when we was together and we did this” “connie remember the time i did a split on it” you say pissed as hell can’t believing she actually say that..
you hear a sigh “she’s just joking, you know that—
you look up “don’t tell me what i fucking know connie, cs your really starting to piss me off” you push pass him and start walking towards the living room
“bro you need to relax alright, your acting like a bitch right now..”
you stop walking and you turn around to face him, “i’m acting like a what?”
he smacks his teeth “man you heard me”
you just stare at him, feeling the anger of all those times, you watched her flirt with him and he seemingly flirting back, the small touches.. the whispers and the stank looks caught up to you in that one moment until now, does he even want you? why is he fighting so hard for her? does he have that same loyalty when it comes to you? i guess we gon find out..
“fuck you connie” you spit out with a potent venom, you make a show of climbing up the stairs and ripping open the hall closet to grab your suitcase and duffel bag
connie’s heart sinks knowing he fucked up, he quickly runs up the stairs and follows you, he sees you packing up your stuff and his heart stutters
“where you going?” you don’t say anything, shoving all your clothes in your bag, opening the drawer and discreetly grabbing your passport and stack he had left in there and you shove it your duffel..
“you must not want this like you claim” you say calmly “your willing to call me a bitch over your ex who i say clearly makes ME uncomfortable” “where is your loyalty to me connie? why aren’t you defending ME?” you say and stare up at him with unshed tears in your eyes.. so guess what.. i’m going away and i’m gonna let you think about where your loyalty lies..
connies mouth slightly agape, not knowing what to say, he never thought this what happen, he never thought you would leave him like this, “imma fix this jus don’t leave” he starts stuttering out, he watches you grab all your bags and walking down the stairs “baby- FUCK please don’t leave” he says rubbing a hand down his head, at this point panicking over the thought of not seeing you again..
you don’t care, you’ve had enough and you need him to see, you slip on your crocs by the door and you walk outside, connie closely following, you throw all your shit in your car and you get in quicker than connie can catch you and you lock it so can’t get in, he banging on the door, pleading for you to not leave—
“please baby don’t” “don’t fucking do this y/n”
“GET OUT THE FUCKING CAR” he starts pulling on the door—
you start the car and you pull out, as connie starts following, trying to run with the car, but you speed off not giving a fuck..
connie stands in the middle of the road, yelling profanities, loosing his shit, he walks back in the house, and punches the wall, leaving a hole..
the first night you spend at your friends house, crying telling her what happened as you head you phone buzzing constantly, flooding for texts from connie and his friends, you didn’t care tho, you decided you was gon book a trip to costa rica, you have the money and you just want to get away..
a week has passed and connie wakes up, with a massive headache, he’s drunken and cried himself to sleep more than he wants to admit, he misses you, his baby, he misses waking up next to you and getting food with you, he misses your mind, your laughter, the peace you give him, and your gone
he’s reflected this passed week and he realizes his relationship with sasha is inappropriate, and it was confirmed when he called to cut her off, she called you all types of bitches and insecure and he realizes he been the biggest fucking idiot, and how much grace you’ve given him.. now he doesn’t know where you are, you blocked him and your friends refuse to tell him where you are, he stands up from the bed and decides to shower, he knows he should clean up the room but.. he needs to clean himself first,
—music floods the house soon after, and connie is shirtless fixing the hole in the wall, fixing the drywall with a white paste, he gets a ding cutting his music off for a second and he looks at his phone hoping it’s you, it’s eren and he reads the texts “this yo girl?”
connie’s brows furrow and watches the friends only story and sees you on a beach somewhere, just glowing, eyes looking brighter than he’s seen in awhile, your humming along to some song in spanish and it your with a group of people, someone says something in the background and you let out a soft giggle before the video ends..
connie feels his heart sink, not because you’ve done anything bad or anything like that, but he’s sees your thriving, you look better, you’ve gained a little weight, you look well rested and that makes him look like a shit person, had he been that draining? was his relationship with sasha stressing you out that much? why didn’t he listen to you? why didn’t he believe you?
he slams his phone down, climbing up the stairs abandoning, his project, just wanting to roll up that point and sleep—
-two weeks later-
you sigh as you walk off the plane, neck pillow around your neck and headphones over your ears, you can still feel the sway of the water all over your body, you can still feel the warmth of the sun and you can still taste the sweetness of the fruit on your tongue, you unblocked connie on the plane and watched all the texts pop up on your phone, you’ve forgiven him at this point and now you think about him, you miss him, you miss his smile, his jokes, him dancing around the house.. his dick, everything..and your glad to be back home..
connie hasn’t seen you in three weeks and at this point he’s lost a bit of hope, the only peace he finds is when he wakes up early and heads to the gym, he hasn’t been much of a gym rat, he has been here in there but he’s started taking it more seriously, to distract himself, he drops the weight finishing his set, he gets a notification from his phone and sees its from ring, thinking it’s a package or something he almost clicks out but then he realizes it says door unlocked and his heart skips a beat, he grabs his bag and water and almost runs out the gym, he gets in his car and speeds off, hoping it’s you, hoping your finally home—
you walk inside and set your bags down, looking around “connie?” you yell, looking throughout the house and quickly realizing he’s not home, you walk downstairs and open the fridge grabbing a coconut water and sipping on it as you tap on your phone, you had gotten a fresh set of a acrylics before you came home and you love them so much..
30 mins pass and your listening to music as you cook some sausages in the pan, your stomach grumbling with hunger, you hear the door unlock and you slightly jump, heart skipping a beat.. you put down the spatula and quietly walk towards the foyer, hearing keys jiggling and shoes being kicked off..
you stand there, his back turned alway from you, a duffel on his shoulder and flowers in his hand and he finally turns towards you and your quickly met with a look of shock that morphs into a soft smile
“hi” you whisper, he slowly walks towards you “hi” he whispers back..
you run towards him and jump on him, legs wrapping around his waist and arms wrapping around his neck, he drops everything in his hand and wraps his arms tightly around you, he presses kisses all over your head and cheeks, whispering “im so sorry” and “i love you so much” “please don’t leave me again” you press a kiss to his lips and he walks further in living room and sits on the couch with you in his lap..
“how was your trip?” he whispers, staring at you like a hawk, trying to capture your face, in a way he never forgets anything about you again..
“peaceful” you whisper and softly wipe the tear slowly gliding down his cheek, you squeeze his arms and notices there firmer and stronger than usual and he jus smiles “i’ve been at the gym” you smile amused and nod “i like it” he softly grabs your cheek and kisses you..
you both know that you’ve changed and that your relationship will be different than before, but for the better, you guys are stronger than before and that gives you the peace you both have been looking for, inner peace..
——————————————————————————
|a/n|
chile i don’t think i’ve ever written angst before, i definitely think i could do a little better but, i didnt want it to be too depressing fr, but lmk if you want a part two for some smut 🤭, also sorry girl for taking so long to reply, school be kicking my ass fr!! but guysss send me more requests this was sooo fun!! i know for me that i want to see very specific things in fics or like smut, and the best way to make that possible is when you inbox the writer, so inbox me fr!!! i don’t bite 🩷
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deadsetobsessions · 3 months
Text
Danny Phantom Writing Prompt:
When she comes to, a silver haired man with a matching goatee greets her. Kind of. He’s disappointed.
She’s surrounded in neon green and she is so, so, so confused.
——
Her name is-
Well. It was something else.
What matters is that Vlad doesn’t call her by anything other than “Danielle” and “you.”
She thinks if she wasn’t who she is- if Vlad hadn’t ripped her out of her own life, poured her tattered soul into this imperfect body- she’d believe the father like figure he’s poorly pretending to be. But she knows. This is a show she’s watched many times. Vlad, even if she hadn’t had years of actual life and the foreknowledge of Danny Phantom, she’d eventually clock him as a villain.
“You can do it, Danielle.” He says.
“Obey, or suffer the consequences,” she hears. She knows manipulation when she hears it. Vlad thinks it’ll work. After all, little pod baby Danielle would know no different than the confining walls of her room. But she does know, and the voices of her loved ones bolster her in this delicate balancing act.
So, she pretends to let him mold her. Let him shape little Danielle into a puppet he could pilot as he wishes.
To act like her body’s template, but to be obedient in ways Danny would never allow himself to be. To turn trusting blue eyes up towards the drawling billionaire and pretend to take his word as gospel.
In return, he gives her more freedom. He thinks it’s control, that she returns even when he gives her ample chances to leave. She knows it’s a test, and she’s always been good at those.
She collects evidence, slowly. Because Vlad might have overshadowed people and signed their companies over to him, but he was sloppy. He was sloppy and she was a paralegal.
——
Vlad gives her the mission she’s been waiting for. She goes to Danny with a neutral mask and acts like a person who knows nothing of normal social cues.
It’s what Vlad expects of her.
The time is not yet right.
——
So when the time comes, Danielle makes a decision. She was never the baby Dani. She will never be. When she punches Vlad, she tears into him with everything she has. She makes him bleed and she breaks him and she slaps the anti-ghost belt on him to lock his ability. And she breaks more, just to make sure he might not heal all the way, all the while Danny watches in horror.
And then she starts the process of legally beating him up. Danielle bankrupts Vlad in two months with legal fees, and she takes vicious pleasure in rendering him destitute.
Hah. Try creating clones of your one sided love now, you creepy motherfucker.
——
She’s melting. She makes a joke, because Danny looked terrified and she got attached. Well, it’s hard not to get attached, considering he risked his neck for her even after learning she was there to…
Well.
He saves her. She knew he would.
She’s whole again. Stable. But something in her breaks, because she knows, with a sense of unfathomable knowledge, that she will never rid herself of the name Danielle again. She’s bound to this world. The price for her life was an eternity of imprisonment in a realm where she will never see the people she loves again.
——
“I’m not… I wasn’t always Danielle.” She admits to Danny, Tucker, and Sam.
“What does that even mean?”
She sighed, leaning against the window sill.
“The reason I was stable and my… siblings weren’t was because Vlad ripped my soul out from my body and shoved it into the body of a clone. He killed me.”
Danny stuttered to a close. Grief. She smiles at him.
“Technically, I’m older than you and Jazz.”
“I’m sorry,” Sam says, head buried in her hands. Tucker just stares at her.
“Yeah. Me too. But you shouldn’t blame yourself, Danny.” Danielle knows that look on his face. “I hate him, yeah. But… I can’t change it now. So, I’ll see what this world has to offer.”
“I’m sorry,” Danny says to her.
“I get it.”
And she does. Because Danielle knows what it is to die, now. So does he.
So she flips off the window sill, enjoying her always novel powers of flight, and laughs.
“I’ll be Nellie. You can call me Nellie.”
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adventuringblind · 5 months
Text
Not Your Fault
Max Verstappen x Reader x Oscar piastri
Genre: Angst
Summary: Max and Oscar have to comfort their girlfriend who's hospitalized after a major crash.
Dialouge prompt: "It's not your fault"
Warnings: major crash, injury description
Notes: This is part of my 1000 follower celebration! Requests are still open for it if you would like to participate!
Masterlist
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"Red flag Max, red flag." Comes GP's voice over the radio.
Something in his stomach dropped at the words. Crashing is a risk they all take every time they get into the car, but that dosen't it isn't hard when it happens.
"Who was it?" His fingers crossed. Silently begging whoever controlled fate that it was neither a McLaren nor a Ferrari. He's not sure he could handle it.
"It's a Ferrari."
"Who?"
"Y/N"
His heart dropped. She'd been called to drive in place of Carlos. The Spainard had caught Covid and was out for the entire triple header. She'd gotten a chance, and now she'd crashed out.
"Is she okay?"
"Max-"
"Is she okay, GP? Please, I need to know." His heart is beating faster then he would’ve liked, but he can’t help it.
“They haven’t gotten a response yet. Ferrari was checking to see the damage on the car but haven’t gotten a response yet-”
“They were checking on the car?!” Max’s blood is boiling as he peels into the pit lane. He rips himself out of the car as marches to where GP and Christian are presumably waiting for him. They look neutral at the moment.
Christian grabs him by the shoulders to stop him from going any further, but it doesn’t matter. The screen is replaying the crash. Something must have happened with the steering and braking because the car just didn’t slow down. It hit the wall at 200 mph. The Ferrari car is stuck in the barriers. The fence having come down on top of her, essentially burying the car underneath.
“Any word yet?” His voice breaks. eye’s still trained on the screen as it shows the Marshalls trying to pull the debris away.
“Still nothing. They lost the onboard footage and can’t see her vitals.”
Max is about to jump into a rant. His anger at Ferrari still boiling. That is - until Lando comes barreling into him. The Brit is out of breath and flushed. “Haven you looked at your phone?”
All three Redbull members stare at him in confusion. Lando looks between them expectantly. “Well somebody better get Max his phone because Oscar is about thirty seconds away from killing everyone in the Ferrari garage.”
Max runs to grab his phone and comes back to Lando who is waiting impatiently for something. Texts from Charles and Carlos about what they know, A missed call from Oscar- “I don’t see anything apart from the usual.”
Land rips the phone out of his hands and pulls up his instagram. Then he find the Ferrari page and and taps on their story. He hands the phone back with sad eyes.
Within the mess or a PR scripted excuse, one thing sticks out to him the most: ‘driver error.’ Max the pulls up Charles’ texts. His hands are shaking with the impending appearance of Mad Max.
Charles gives him the whole story. ‘Don’t believe the story! I saw the data, it was the teams fault.’
“Oscar saw this, didn’t he?”
“Kim, Jon, and Andrea are keeping him confined, but unless you want to be outed to the world I suggest you come help.”
Max looks at the screen. Still no sign of life. The car is still buried.
Then he looks to his team principal for approval. Christian nods and then the two are ducking and dodging cameras.
Oscar isn’t mad often. Rarely, even. He has so much patience for people that Max sometimes wonders where he puts it all.
He found out after the Qatar sprint. Max was getting some nasty hate. It was under every photo Redbull or himself put out. He simply put his phone away and tried not to let it bother him. Their female lover saw but knew better then to start something and decided to, and he quotes, ‘fuck the diets and eat Max’s favorite.’ Which the Dutch had been more then happy to do.
Oscar on the other hand was going to chew out every person who boo’d at max on their way to the hotel. Oscar’s anger comes in the form of harsh words and stupid actions until it turns to wet and it’s like every emotion he’d been stifling hits him all at once. Then it’s all teary eyes a cracked voices.
Max and Lando round the corner and sneak through the back of the McLaren garage. Straight into Oscars room where they are supposed to find him.
He is, in fact, nowhere to be seen.
Max makes a break for the Ferrari garage. He wants to be relieved when he sees the Australian with Charles, but he can’t be because he’s with some of the Ferrari staff as well.
He breaks the circle and sets a, hopefully calming, hand on Oscar’s shoulder. “Any news on her condition?” The men in red shoot him dirty glares as he interrupts whatever they were talking about previously.
“No.”
Okay, rude.
Charles clears his voice. “Actually, me and Oscar were just discussing her condition. They pulled her out of the car - but it doesn’t look good. The FIA might stop the race because of the barrier.”
“Thank you for the update, Charles. We’ll be going now.” Max and Lando have to drag a ver stubborn Oscar away.
They pile into Lando’s room since it’s closer and Oscar collapses. Him and Max almost topple over together. “They said it’s her fault when it’s not!”
“I know. It’s out job to make sure she knows that too. Chewing out Ferrari isn’t going to help.” At the moment, Max can’t help but finish in his head.
They take some time to calm down before heading back out. They are greeted with the news that the race has been cancelled due to the barrier meaning that the two are free to leave.
Which they do, with incredible speed.
She had to be transferred to the hospital. According to the doctor that greets them, she’ll make a full recovery but it will take a while to get there. A few broken bones, some internal bleeding, a concussion, a major gash, but she’s alive. That’s what matters.
Oscar and Max spend the night in her room. The two patiently waiting for her to wake up. Charles had dropped by with Lando to bring them her stuff and see how she’s doing. Max was happy they brought food and Lando actually took to force feeding Oscar.
They wake the next morning to quiet sniffles. Max cracks his eyes open to see her, staring at her cell that Max left on the side table, with tears streaming down her face.
He is up and alert in a second with Oscar coming to slowly. “Schat, talk to me.”
She just hands over her phone without saying anything and Max scrolls through it for a few moments. Apparently Ferrari’s statement went further then he thought. Again, they are playing the blame game.
And no, absolutely not. Max Verstappen is not the kind of man to let her believe this. He turns off the phone and tosses it aside before Oscar can see. He really doesn't need another passive-aggressive Assie incident.
"Charles saw the data. It was the car. It wasn't your fault."
"But everyone is believing it was. How am I supposed to build a career now?" She sobs. The EKG is beeping wildly with her heart.
Oscar, in his sleepy state, switches from leaning on Max to climbing into bed with her. It works like a charm, and she starts to breathe again. It's labored, but it's calming down, at least.
"You'll show them. The data will come out eventually." Oscar mumbles into her shoulder.
"And until then -" Max intertwines hands with both his lovers. "- We'll defend you because we love you."
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webslingingslasher · 5 months
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Sometimes I like to think Peter confessed to trouble one night after randomly barging into her dorm room thru the window, bleeding in like 20 dif places, and while she’s frantic asking what the fuck happened looking for a med kit he’s high off adrenaline and is like “SPIDER-MAN. ME SPIDER-MAN.” and she’s just like “what the FUCK did you just say?!”
it makes me giggle
-🪼
😭😭😭 i could imagine this fr. like, he was on the brink of blacking out, bleeding out and dying and all he had was you because may is at minimum, thirty minutes away.
peter leaves a bloody handprint on your window when he pushes it open, then collapses to your floor while heaving for air. you nearly jump out of bed at the sound, terrified and ready to call peter because who the fuck entered your room through your window in the middle of the night?
except it’s spider-man, and you jump into action, getting to him in two steps and hitting the carpet with your knees.
grabbing his shoulder, ‘oh my god, oh my god, spider-man, are you okay?’ he’s not okay, he’s dying on your floor.
peter doesn’t have it in him to play pretend, he rips the mask off. you gasp and throw him back into the wall, peter groans.
‘what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the-‘
‘trouble, please.’
you run around, your mom packed you a first aid kit when you moved to college, you’ve never used it. now you need it, where the fuck is it?
‘what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, peter?’
he’s clutching his side, there’s so much blood.
‘this is why you’re not allowed to do this, you promise me right now you’ll stop.’
‘you know i can’t,’ he gasps for air, ‘do that.’
‘oh what the fuck, this isn’t happening. what the fuck, this is how you told me? i mean, what the fuck?!’
‘you’re doing a great job at handling it, super stellar.’
you throw a towel at him, he holds it to his worst laceration.
‘don’t you dare get upset with me, you’re the one leading a double life showing up to my fucking window at deaths door. jesus christ, peter. what the fuck!’
‘can i please get a bandaid?’
you find the kit, you tear the plastic and open it.
‘you need a fucking trauma unit.’
peter pulls out a roll of gauze, then motions towards his suit, ‘do me a favor and get me out of this.’
‘oh my god, am i dreaming? this isn’t real life, you’re not real.’
peter’s struggling to free himself, you help while dazed. your brain is melting. ‘is this a bad time to ask for an autograph?’
he stares at you. you blink back.
peter can’t believe he has to say it. ‘yes. it’s a terrible time.’
you pull the suit down to his hips, he’s cut a million different ways. ‘so, is that a no?’
peter wraps the gauze around his arm and tears it with his teeth, the sight makes your heart thump, he looks up at you. ‘don’t you dare get turned on right now, that’s sadistic.’
‘you’re hot when you’re bloody.’
‘oh, jesus christ. fucking cauterize me and you can live out your fantasies.’
you grab a handful of bandaids and a tube of neosporin. ‘on it.’
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Text
🎃⁀➷ 31 days, 31 spooky prompts for Whumptober *ੈ✩‧₊˚🕷️🍂
1. ❝ don’t look, try not to show any fear as I tell you this, but I think that pumpkin behind you is alive, and it’s looking at us. ❞
2. ❝ please, I’m not crazy. that scarecrow is alive and it’s trying to kill me. you have to believe me. no one in this town is safe! ❞
3. ❝ you remember that body that was admitted to the morgue last night? the one that has human bite marks that looks nasty infected on the arm. yeah, well, this is going to sound insane, but it’s gone. the body’s missing. ❞
4. ❝ babe, you’re dead. this is the afterlife. we’re all ghosts here. ❞
5. ❝ do not come out of your room when it’s nighttime. no matter what you hear, you must stay in your room throughout the night. ❞
6. ❝ the bats, they’re biting and killing people. we have to run. now! ❞
7. ❝ is that a person sitting on the tree branch? why is she smiling like that? what’s wrong with her eyes? oh my god, she’s crawling down. oh my god, she’s crawling towards us! ❞
8. ❝ you haven’t heard of the blood moon curse? you must be new here. ❞
9. ❝ if you hear a voice calling your name from the woods at night, do not answer. ever. ❞
10. ❝ I got bitten, and I need you to kill me before I turn and become like them. please promise me you’ll kill me before I hurt anybody. please don’t let me be like them. ❞
11. ❝ no, don’t make eye contact with it. keep on walking, but do not run. ❞
12. ❝ there will be a ritual tonight and they will use you as a human sacrifice. you have to get out of here. ❞
13. ❝ shhh, she can’t see us, but she can hear us. be quiet. ❞
14. ❝ what do you mean the doll is alive? it’s just a doll. ❞
15. ❝ one of us is possessed. there’s one way to find out who. ❞
16. ❝ we’ve been walking in circle. we’ve walked past this house before. you see that lady in the window staring at us? she was also there the last time we walked past her property, staring at us through the window exactly like this. it’s like she hasn’t moved at all. ❞
17. ❝ you need my blood to stay alive. drink it. drink. or you die. ❞
18. ❝ I think there’s someone living in the walls. I can hear them breathing at night. ❞
19. ❝ this is a mistake. we should never have come here. the myth is real. we’ll never get out alive now. I’m sorry. gosh, I’m so sorry. ❞
20. ❝ if you see the shadow, you only have 3 days left to live. ❞
21. ❝ are those claw marks on the trees? they weren’t here last night when we set up the tent. ❞
22. ❝ I don’t think the blood on his clothes is fake, neither are the human organs in those jars. we have to get out of here. ❞
23. ❝ I’ve seen it all. the devil is real. it’s too late now. all of us are going to die tonight. ❞
24. ❝ they are not a cult. they’re my family. I’m not being brainwashed. let me go. let me go! ❞
25. ❝ what did you just inject me with? what’s in the syringe? what’s in the fcking syringe?!! ❞
26. ❝ those blood, it’s still fresh, meaning whoever — or whatever — killed it is still around. we have to keep moving, and we have to keep quiet. ❞
27. ❝ she doesn’t like her dolls to speak at night. if she hears your voice after 8 o’clock, she will rip your vocal cord out. ❞
28. ❝ there’s something in the mist. if you breathe, you die. ❞
29. ❝ look at me, hey, look at me, these people, they look like your friends and they sound like your friends. but they’re not your friends. your friends are dead. we cannot trust anybody. ❞
30. ❝ don’t get too close to the water. the fairies have very sharp teeth and strong grips. ❞
31. ❝ be careful in the full moon night. just… be very careful, alright? ❞
TAP HERE FOR; 31 DAYS, 31 TROPES FOR WHUMPTOBER
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s-4pphics · 1 month
Text
mourn. teaser (e.w.)
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TEASER. 
WORD COUNT: eight thirty :3
WARNINGS: streetracer!ellie, dealer!oc, heavy angst, HEAVY MENTIONS OF ADDICTION AND VIOLENCE IN THE FUTURE, no one’s a good person bc i’m grieving 
A/N: sad
fck neil drukman. zios will d!e.
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FEBRUARY, 2019
Ellie’s fist comes down hard on your front door, the aged and loosened wood rattling with the desperate punctures from her twitchy hand. You’re always here. You never miss a fucking phone call. Why won’t you open the fucking door? Her chest falls rapidly like oxygen is limited. The winds are seconds away from crushing her bones into dust, it seems. Panicked curses fall from her mouth; How did you allow her to get this far? Her throat swells in warning as her eyes fill. C’mon… c’mon, you fucking bitch—
Her palm twists around the doorknob, rattling it, strangling it, begging for it to loosen so you can deliver what you promised. You never fucking miss her calls. She whimpers like a dog when the lock doesn’t shutter. You have to fucking be here. 
She doesn’t realize she’s begging with her mouth against the wood. Anyone she can; her mother, God, for you to fucking be home and save her from misery. She’s freezing and fiends to shed her skin like a snake. 
Fucking stupid bitch, Ellie gasps. Her first breath in what felt like years, Open the motherfucking do—
Ellie?
Her eyes, tearful and lost, find yours. Clad in all black with her vice thrown over your shoulder, guarded by your more than recognizable bright orange duffel. Ellie nearly drools at the sight, Please… please let me in, I’m gonna fucking die—
She has angered you in an instant, face twisting with creases between your brows. You always are when she shows up unannounced. In her defense, she warned you before she wandered upon your place. Dialed your number for an hour straight. 
I fucking told you a billion times—
I know, I know—
You trek until you’re in front of her, snarling your teeth like a lion, You don’t fucking know. You’re— Palms connect with Ellie’s chest and she stutters back, — I fucking told you no. Find somebody else. 
Ellie’s rebuttal is sharp as she grips your wrist, There’s no one fucking else and you know it. Don’t pull this shit right now—
You scoff and shove her off to unlock your door. She hates how her mind whirs to shove you to the side and steal away with your bag. Take your drunk ass home—
She fails to deny her intoxication. The stabbing pains in her side won’t allow it, And if I don’t? The fuck are you gonna do? Ellie snorts and it’s dark. Shoot me in the goddamn face? … Call the cops? 
Your door is unlocked, but you don’t open it. She can feel exhaustion radiating off you. It weighs her down. You weigh her down. She hates what you’ve done to her. If anything, you owe her for the damage you’ve caused. So, she preys. Claws at the one inkling of leverage she has over you. The only thing you’ll never back away from. 
Ellie’s eyes go soft. A ploy she’s mastered over the years. I love you so much… You can’t leave me like this… Your sharp exhale is painful to digest. She pads closer with tightly clenched fists; watches yours clutch the knob of the entrance as grounding. I won’t do it here. I promise, She whispers and watches your shoulders droop. Pride disguised as guilt sparks in her chest. She can practically taste euphoria. 
Ellie… Your voice shakes. She’s instantly transported back to high school. The ache in your strained call still remains. Dejected. 
Yes? Her reply is sweet as candy, and she knows she’s got you. Fingers jump underneath the cuff of her jacket sleeve. Eager, anticipating the rush of crushed pills in her nose. 
You’re heaving, chest rising and falling at an increased pace with tearful eyes glued to your rusted roof. All before you choke, If I ever see you again, I’ll rip your fucking throat out. 
Every time Ellie believes she’s grown used to your aggression, she’s proven wrong. Your anger causes her body to lock, feet glued to the floor as her expression drops. You manage to throw yourself into the shack you call home, door slamming in her face and lock clicking, trapping her in icy wind. 
NO! Nonononono—
Ellie’s screaming into the void, screeching like a banshee on cracked concrete as she kicks at your door with a weighted heel. 
On the other side, you drop to the floor, stocked duffel flung as far away from you as humanly possible in your hysteria. Your sobs are earth-shattering and your chest cracks open, scratching at unkept hardwood as you recall how the fuck you got here. There’s no future, no hope, no anything for you. For your best friend whom you’ve destroyed. You’ve ruined her. 
Ruined yourself in fire. 
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246 notes · View notes
saetoru · 2 years
Note
rich boy gojo getting all pouty you spent the day with his mom instead of him so you cheer him up by letting him fuck you in the dress she bought you while you were out 🥺
#𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄 — 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔.
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tags: nsfw 18+, fem! reader, unprotected sex, creampie, clothed sex, gojo calls you “pretty girl”
notes: the return of rich boy gojo !! after exactly one month
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“you said it wouldn’t take long,” gojo pouts, turning to look at you with crossed arms from his spot on his bed as you walk into his room, “you said you’d be back in—” he pauses, mouth still open from stopping mid sentence as he stares at you, taking you in, raking his eyes up and down your figure from top to bottom.
you giggle, doing a little spin for show, just to make sure he sees all the angles.
“sorry, i got a little carried away with trying on dresses. do you like it?” you ask. he gulps, eyes still lingering on the way it hugs every inch and every curve of your body, eyeing the way you look so good.
suddenly, he doesn’t think he’s too upset you spent the day without him anymore.
“like it?” he asks, “think i more than like it.” his legs instantly spread as you make your way between them, arms instinctively wrapping around your waist while your hands lose themselves into his hair, “did my mom get you this?”
“mhm,” you hum, pecking his lips (well, it was supposed to be a peck, but he deepens it into a kiss—he thinks it’s fair, he’s been very attention deprived all day after all.)
“remind me to thank her later,” he breathes, burying his face into your belly, inhaling deeply, “please tell me i get to fuck you in this,” his voice is muffled, but you still hear clearly, rolling your eyes and clicking your teeth.
“toru, this is my new dress—”
“i’ll be careful—”
“you said that at suguru’s party,” you scowl, “i loved that dress.”
“i got you a new one,” he whines, chin propping against you as he stares up at you with pleading eyes. “please baby? i missed you all day. let me show you,” he pouts deeper, and even though it shouldn’t, it makes your resolve waver.
you almost cave, almost want it as badly as he does, but someone has to be the responsible one of the two of you, and most times it doesn’t fall on gojo to take the role.
“but your mother is home—”
“she’s down stairs, she won’t hear a thing,” he murmurs, placing kisses along your waist through the fabric of your dress. it’s expensive, probably the most expensive thing you’ve let anyone indulge you in, and you can’t help but huff as you stare at the careful stitching.
“but my dress—”
“i’ll buy you a new one if i ruin it—which i wont,” he adds, “i’ll buy you the whole fucking store, baby. whatever you want, i got it.”
you bite your lip, trying—and failing—to ignore the way his hand rubbing up and down your sides is making your head spin before ultimately sighing and giving him a weak glare.
“fine, but if your rip my dress, i’m breaking up with you.”
bingo, he thinks, smirking as his arm hooks under your knees and pulls you onto the mattress.
“fuck, you’re so pretty,” he says, voice husky as he whispers against your ear, “can’t believe you’re mine. all mine,” a kiss to your neck, “only me,” a kiss to your jaw, “all this for me, right?” one soft, barely-there kiss to your lips that has you chasing after him as he pulls away, making him chuckle lowly.
“satoru,” you huff, grabbing his shirt and pulling him down, kissing him deeper as he groans into your mouth. your arms wrap around his neck, and his hands move to grip your waist, gently pulling the skirt of your dress up until he can pull your underwear down to your ankles. “we don’t have time for that,” you hiss as he moves to bury his face between your legs, “dinner is gonna be ready soon, and your mom is gonna come up here to call—”
“i don’t want that for dinner. i want this—ow,” he whines, rubbing his shoulder as you shove it with a scowl. “most people are really turned on when their boyfriends like to eat them out,” he mumbles.
“next time,” you promise, and he huffs in defeat, letting you pull him back into a kiss as your hands move to reach past his waistband and pull out his stiff length. he groans as you smear the pre cum around his tip, stroking him a few times as he buries his face into your neck.
“fuck—need to be in you,” he mutters, voice desperate as he plants hot kisses along your jaw and down your neck, “this dress was fucking made for you, and you were made for me,” he grunts, cock inching its way past your slick folds little by little. you whimper, hands lacing with his as he lets out a deep groan into the crook of your neck.
“t-toru,” you stutter, whining softly as he sets a slow pace, hips bumping against yours with every thrust, “so full,” you gasp, feeling his cock bury itself deep into your walls.
“yeah?” he chuckles, letting out a soft moan as you clamp down on his aching length, tip red and weeping with pre cum still. “feel that? feel me? gonna mold this pussy so no one but me fits,” he whispers against your ear, and you moan as his thumb finds your clit, rubbing circles as his pace picks up.
“m-more,” you whine, legs wrapping around him as his hips slam into you, his tip kissing the sweet spot that makes your back arch and your eyes squeeze shut.
“what’s that?” he laughs, and if you weren’t so busy clinging to him, voice breaking off into wanton moans, you’d have cursed him for being so smug, “need more? thought you wanted me to be careful, pretty girl.”
“p-please toru, ‘m close,” you whimper, grasping at his shirt as his breath gets ragged, panting into your neck. his cock twitches, and his thumb works your clit faster as he bullies his stiff length in and out of you.
“me too, fuck ‘m close. pussy was made for me, mine, you’re all mine,” he rambles, “gonna buy you the whole damn store just so i can fuck you in every dress, yeah? want that?”
all you can do is gasp, choking on a cry as you cum around his cock, walls spasming around him as he lets out a deep, guttural groan.
“g-god, toru,” you moan, “so good.”
“that’s it, sweetheart—fuck, gonna make me cum.” and he does, head falling to your chest, your hands cradling his head as he lets out a low whine, slamming into you and riding out his own high. he paints your walls white, thick spurts of cum shooting past his tip as he lets out a string of curses. “fuck, fuck, fuck—i love you, baby.”
he collapses over you, your arms wrapping around him tightly as you both catch your breaths, panting harshly while your fingers weakly thread through his sweaty locks.
“better go clean me up before this mess gets on my new dress,” you mutter, making his head dig deeper into your neck.
“can’t a guy just cuddle in peace,” he pouts, “so mean all the time.” giggling, you plant a sweet kiss to the side of his head, making him smile softly against your skin.
“i love you too, by the way,” you murmur, and gojo thinks he’ll regularly take you dress shopping from now on if it ends like this.
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BONUS:
“do you like hanging out with my mom better, or me? be honest,” gojo prods at your shoulder, making you groan as you swat at his chest.
“i’m trying to sleep, satoru.”
“just answer.”
“your mom. you’re annoying,” you mutter, settling comfortably against his chest once more and closing your eyes. he pouts, staring down at you in disbelief.
“but—”
“goodnight.”
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mama gojo >>> boyfriend gojo
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rere9500-18 · 6 months
Text
Miles and his abandonment issues/not wanting to be alone.
Something I’ve always thought about Miles was that he has abandonment issues. This clip here is only a scene that shows apart of that.
Gwen’s “I’ll never see him again” makes him panic, with not seeing her or Peter or anyone of his spider friends for a year or so now. Hearing that from Gwen alone probably is what mainly encouraged him to jump through that portal and follow her. Because if that portal closed, there’s a big possibility he’d really never see her again.
Even in the second half of the video where Miles is walking to his dorm/new school and he walks past his old school with everyone he knew chatting it up with him as he passes. It’s clear while Miles attended that school, he’s been friends, or at least acquaintances, with a lot of the people there. He has and still does leave an impact on them, if it wasn’t noticeable by the amount of people simply happy to see him walk by.
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At the end of it, the last girl asking how the new school is and that they all miss him, Miles responds with a “Wait… you miss me?” with a smile on his face. Now, I’ve seen some of the comments on that bit on YouTube and it’s mostly people thinking it’s Miles being cute with the ladies, but I don’t believe that’s what that was at all.
It’s clear to see Miles is cool with most people in that scene; of course keeping in mind he’s spent time with them at some point in his life if they are telling him they miss him. That little smile Miles had and the question that followed was an exact reaction to truly realizing that nobody at his old school has forgotten him, nor intend to, in theory, leave him anytime soon. It’s that warm feeling of knowing that maybe you truly do have people by your side. It’s actually a little intense with Miles since I think he sort of needs that feeling more than you’d usually need it.
Whether it be his mom, his dad, his uncle (RIP Uncle Aaron 😔), or the spiders who he thought were his friends.
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That’s why it hurts so much when they’re taken away from him. Either by death or because of needing to pick a side. Because that warm feeling slowly turns into dread that no one’s by his side anymore. That the people he love may not love him anymore. That he may have to face something he’s been trying to hide from: being alone.
Because being alone means you’ll have no one to care for. Being alone means no one’s gonna give you their warmth when you’re in the freezing cold. Being alone means you’ll be left in the dark by yourself with no one to encourage you to break out and run free.
Miles followed Gwen to avoid having to be alone, like he was for the past year after she and the other spider-people left. Because, while it doesn’t make it right to follow someone and then go invisible to see what they’re doing, he wouldn’t have ever known this would have been the last time he’d see his best friend if he hadn’t followed.
At the end of the movie though, I feel that Miles is put at an even harder spot due to him trying to prevent his father’s death. He wanted to be with the rest of the spider people so badly that it blinded him to the fact it wasn’t all it seemed to be cracked out to be. At the end of the movie, all Miles wants is to go home. Yes, it hurts to lose everyone you’ve worked so hard to see, but in his mind, if the people you call your friends can’t understand that it’s fucked up to let an innocent person die, his dad no less, for a so-called ‘greater good’, then maybe that warm feeling of them being by his side isn’t what he wants right now.
Miles feels betrayed by Peter B., Gwen, and most importantly, by himself because he soon realizes that he was so determined not to lose them again, that he never realized he’s lost himself in the process. Gwen, Peter, and everyone else basically said (through their actions) that they’ll never see Miles again. Who is Miles to stop them?
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He doesn’t care what happens afterwards. He just wants to go home, HIS home, and stop the one thing that will truly make him deeply and utterly alone.
The death of Aaron and Miles being Spiderman only encourages Miles to want to do these things. He wanted to surround himself with people he can trust, but he soon realizes those relationships can die, either by actual death or by lies and secrets.
Idk. This is all just my view of what Miles feels even in Into the Spiderverse. If you’ve finished reading all this, idk; eat a cookie or something.
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natspookie · 10 months
Text
hold me
natasha x fem!reader
☆ summary : natasha goes out to a friendly dinner with reader’s ex and natasha should have listened (happy ending dw babes)
☆ warning : cheatingggg, drama/angst, not proofread, and traumatic past relationship
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“nat please don’t go out with her” you kneeled down with a frown on your shares bed as natasha attached her earrings, looking at you through the mirror.
“dekta it’s just one dinner, i asked if you wanted to come” natasha cocked her head to the side
“nattie, she’s manipulative and wants to get a reaction out of me” you cringe at the memory of your ex-girlfriend, the same woman natasha would be meeting at dinner tonight with another shield agent.
“i will be careful, and you know i only love you right?” she kneeled as well on the bed, kissing you on the forehead once, on the nose, and in the lips.
“be home as soon as you can?” you sighed, looking into her eyes. “i promise” she gripped your hands, as you both always do. “i love you nattie” “i love you too dekta”
the last 2 hours have been full of worrying for natasha. you’ve cleaned the apartment twice when you received a notification on your phone. you leaped across the couch hoping it as natasha asking you to pick her up. your heart dropped when you reached an unknown number messaging you.
you clicked on the photo to see your girlfriend and ex girlfriend kissing. you knew better than to believe this was the whole story. she was your natasha, the same natasha who loves you. you threw the phone across the couch and buried your head in your hands, anxiously bouncing your knee waiting for natasha.
when the door unlocked you didn’t move an inch. “y/n? i- i should have listened to you” natasha rushed in front of you as your eyes were closed. “she kissed me and i pulled away as fast as i could. i-i’m really sorry dekta, i should’ve just stayed at home with you and watched that old show you love” you opened your eyes to see natasha with tear stained cheeks.
you reached your hand out to brush her tears away “do you love me natasha?” you couldn’t help but ask “of course, y/n. you are my life, you are everything to me and i can’t do this without you, please forgive me” she held your hands tightly
“i love you nat, can you just hold me?” you asked quietly. natasha ripped her heels off and carried you to your room and you squealed.
natasha cleaned up as quickly as she could, making sure to scrub her mouth as much as she could before cuddling you tightly. natasha gave sloppy kisses all over your face, muttering ‘i love you’s every time. “you and me forever”
natasha held you close that night, afraid you would leave her. you knew better than to do that. natasha was clinging onto your side for a few weeks till she got called go a mission.
she left multiple letters around the house that didn’t fail to make you smile.
there were ups and downs, but you wouldn’t mind sharing them with natasha.
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merrybloomwrites · 3 months
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I Hear Them Calling (Chapter 3)
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Story Summary: Alpha Harry Styles and omega Y/N Y/L/N meet under less than ideal circumstances. Overtime their paths will cross and they will be drawn to one another in ways they never expected.
Chapter Summary: Y/N & Harry reconnect at MSG night 12
Previous Chapters: Prologue ; Chapter 1 ; Chapter 2
Word Count: 2.4k
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The next three weeks pass in a similar fashion for you. Work, chores, and hanging out with your best friends fills most of your time. You try not to depend on Harry’s scent, but the days where you don’t have your reminders of his smell around you turn out to be terrible days. The nightmares come back, and you’re restless all day. Plus, you feel way colder than you should in late August, so it just makes sense for you to be constantly drinking hot chocolate.
September 10th finally rolls around, and the first thing you do when you wake up is reread the email from Jada for the hundredth time. You still can’t believe what will happen that night, but there it is clearly written out for you.
Not only will you, Amelia, Violet, and Rachel be going to Harry’s concert, you have your own VIP section and you’re invited backstage before the show starts.
The girls all come over to get ready together. You all have some pizza and play Harry’s music while helping each other with your hair and makeup. After getting dressed you take some pictures together, wanting to document this night.
You spray on extra scent blockers, slipping the bottle into your purse so you can reapply later if needed. Rachel sees you do this and checks in with you, asking, “You okay? Are you nervous to go back there?”
“I’m good,” you reply. “I’m excited actually. It’s different this time. I’m more prepared, and I have you three with me. Plus, I’m pretty sure Amelia will rip the knot off any alpha who tries to mess with us.”
“I heard that!” Amelia shouts from the next room. “And yes. I absolutely will.”
You all laugh and grab your purses before heading to the car. Violet drives you all into the city, and you’re grateful for her fearlessness. No matter how experienced you are, you’ll never drive in New York unless you absolutely have to.
Once you get there, you follow the directions from Jada’s email, walking past the line of people waiting outside and heading straight for a side door. You speak with a security guard who checks your names on a list. He nods and calls over another security guard who leads you into the building.
You look at your friends and can tell they’re as amazed and excited as you are. Sure, you had the emails telling you that all of this would happen, that you’d be hanging out backstage before watching the concert from a private box, but it’s so surreal now that it’s actually happening.
Someone calls your name from the end of the hallway, and you smile when you see Jada walking towards your group.
“So glad you girls could make it!” she says, handing you all the badges you’ll need to wear that evening.
“We’re super excited to be here,” you reply.
She leads you all to a room filled with food and drinks and a number of other VIP guests.
“They’re still working on soundcheck so please enjoy some snacks and I’ll grab you guys to say hi to Harry in a bit,” Jada says quickly before walking back out of the room.
The four of you stand shocked for a moment.
“We’re meeting Harry?” Rachel asks incredulously.
“I guess so,” you answer.
“Like, all of us?” Violet questions.
“Seems that way,” you reply.
“He probably just wants to see his little omega again,” Amelia teases, earning an eye roll from Violet and a head shake from Rachel.
You laugh along, trying to cover your true reaction to hearing that. Because they have no idea how much you want that or how right it feels to be called his omega, even if you know that will never happen.
“Come on, I could use a water,” Violet says and the four of you grab some refreshments. After a little while Jada comes back and has the four of you follow her through the halls.
“We’re gonna make a quick stop first. Harry is finishing up on something but in the meantime you guys can meet the band,” Jada explains.
Entering the band dressing room is as overwhelming as it is thrilling. In the weeks since the last show you attended, you’ve watched numerous clips from the concerts. Most of the time you were focused on Harry, but you spent plenty of time admiring the talent of his band members as well.
They’re all incredibly welcoming, taking the time to talk to all of you. After a few minutes Sarah pulls you aside.
“I just wanted to check in and see how you’ve been the last few weeks,” she says.
You almost just give her a cheerful lie, saying you’ve been totally fine. But you can tell she isn’t simply asking to be polite. She cares. She truly wants to know how you’ve been.
“I’ve been okay. Not great, but I mean, not terrible,” you finally reply.
“What’s been going on?” she continues.
“Well, I’ve been having some pretty bad nightmares. You know, bad dreams about that alpha, and what happened, and what could have happened. And I’ve just been feeling a bit off, like, shaky and cold and restless. I think it’s probably the stress from that night. But I’ve found some ways to cope and they’re working so it’s not too bad.”
Sarah gives you a calculating look. You expect her to ask more questions, press you for more details, but instead she says, “We’re here for you, you know that right? Anything you need. We care about you.”
You’re almost thrown by the genuine compassion from a practical stranger. Sure, she saved you from a dangerous situation, but that still doesn’t explain why this big-time musician cared so deeply for you, just a regular person. And then you put yourself in her shoes for a second, imagining what she went through that night. Alphas, or at least good alphas, have an innate desire to help and protect omegas. Hearing your distress, seeing you cornered and nearly unconscious could not have been easy for her. But she stayed calm the whole time, handling the situation perfectly.
Before your emotions can get the better of you, you smile and say, “Thank you, so much. For everything you did that night and for being there for me now. I really appreciate it.”
“Of course, love. Would it be alright if I gave you a hug?”
You nod and she pulls you in. There’s a faint trace of her tea and ocean scent, and you repress your omega nature telling you to take a deep breath of the alpha smell.
As you pull away, Jada walks back into the room. She collects you and your friends and leads you down the hall. You recognize where you are now and start to grow more anxious and excited knowing that you’ll see Harry again soon.
You have no idea what to expect with this reunion. Will he still seem to care about you as much as he did last time? Will his alpha remember your omega and the connection that seemed to exist between the two? Or will it become glaringly obvious that everything was in your head, and he was just being nice and taking care of a fan in trouble? You figure it will probably be that last choice, that he’ll treat you just the same as he treats Violet, Amelia, and Rachel.
Finally, you reach the room, and Jada knocks, waiting to hear Harry’s response before opening the door and ushering your group inside. Suddenly feeling very shy, you stay behind your friends, like you’re trying to disappear. Harry introduces himself to the others and then he’s standing right in front of you.
Not wanting to be rude, you lift your face to greet him. He reaches out to shake your hand, saying, “Hello, Y/N, it’s good to see you again.”
You stutter out, “Nice to see you too,” while actively focusing on keeping your omega at bay. This simple touch is both electrifying and comforting, and it leaves you wishing for more. You bite back a whine and take a deep breath to center yourself.
This backfires, because now you can pick up Harry’s scent around you. He’s definitely wearing scent blockers again, but the smell has permeated some objects in the room. You know your beta friends are completely unaware of it, but it’s all you can focus on.
Harry invites you all to sit down and get comfortable. He spends time with your group, getting to know everyone, joking around, answering questions about himself and his music.
After a little while Jada comes back to lead you all to your seats since the opening act is about to start.
“It was lovely meeting you all. Jada, could you bring Rachel, Violet, and Ameila to the lounge and come back for Y/N? I wanted to speak with her for a minute. That is, if you’re comfortable with that,” Harry says.
The last part is directed at you, and everyone pauses to see your reaction.
“Yea, that’s fine with me,” you reply after a moment. Truthfully you’re nervous to be alone with him. Not because you’re uncomfortable or scared, but because you’re worried that you’ll somehow make a fool of yourself.
Everyone else leaves the room and Harry wordlessly motions to the couch. The two of you sit side by side, angled to face each other. It’s silent for a minute as you wait for him to say whatever is on his mind.
“I wanted to ask how you’ve been. I know what happened must have been pretty traumatizing for you. I almost got your number from Jada to text you, but I didn’t want to be pushy or nosey or anything,” he finally says.
You can’t help but smile as he rambles, completely endeared by this bashful alpha.
“First, you’re more than welcome to text me if you’d like.” You pause, surprised at how forward you just were. “And uhm, it’s been rough, but manageable. Some bad dreams. Some shakiness. Things like that.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
Douse some clothes in your scent so I can surround myself with it at all times, you think to yourself but somehow manage not to say it out loud.
What you reply instead is, “No, I think I have it under control.”
“Alright, if you’re sure. But please let me know if you need something. I know the idea that omegas need an alpha taking care of them is antiquated but I can’t help it when it comes to you.”
“Me?” you ask. “Like specifically? Or all omegas?”
He chuckles shyly and says, “To be fair I know very few omegas. But I’ve never really felt this protective over someone before. I couldn’t help but think about you the last few weeks. Worry about you, really.”
“Because I got hurt at one of your shows?”
“That’s part of it. But, ah, there’s more than that, I think.” You try not to get your hopes up, try not to think that maybe he likes you the way you like him. How could he? He’s a world-famous popstar and you literally sit at a computer and organize data all day. You don’t even have any fun hobbies. Literally nothing about you is interesting. You’re nothing like the girls he’s dated in the past.
He takes in your silence and continues, saying, “I feel connected to you. And I’d like to get to know you better. What I’d really like is to consider you a friend, rather than just an acquaintance.”
“I would like that too,” you reply calmly.
“In that case, would I be able to get your phone number?”
You bite back the squeal of excitement trying to escape and say, “Yes, of course you can.”
The two of you exchange numbers, and you take note of the coy smile on Harry’s face as you do so.
There’s a knock at the door and Jada pops in, letting you know she’ll be waiting in the hallway to show you to your seat. You and Harry both stand, and he says, “Y/N, it’s been wonderful seeing you again. I hope you enjoy the show.”
“Thank you again for the tickets, and for getting us backstage tonight.”
“My pleasure.” He opens his arms, inviting you in for a hug. It’s a new line you’re crossing, having only touched hands before, but you don’t even hesitate. His arms wrap around your shoulders as yours go to his waist. Your nose is dangerously close to his scent gland. You turn your head away from his neck in order to resist the temptation to take a deep breath searching for his delicious smell.
You force yourself to pull away before you get too comfortable in his embrace. The two of you share another shy smile before you grab your purse and head out to follow Jada.
The second you get to the private lounge your friends start asking questions, wanting to know every detail of your time alone with Harry. You tell them that he checked how you were doing, and that he wants to be friends. You also mention that you now have each other’s phone numbers.
“Oh my God, girl! That’s insane!” Rachel says.
“You can text Harry Styles. You can pick up your phone and call him, whenever you want,” Violet adds.
You laugh at their reactions and look at Amelia, surprised by her uncharacteristic silence. You laugh ever harder when you realize she’s literally stunned into silence.
Suddenly everyone in the venue starts screaming and you all redirect your attention to the stage as the show begins. It’s an amazing experience as you and your friends sing and dance along. More than once you think Harry is actually looking for you. He glances up to where you are as though searching the crowd to find you. He’s probably not, but you can’t help but hope that he is.
Violet drops you off at your home after the concert. You’re about to get into bed when your phone dings. A huge smile spreads across your face when you see a text from Harry saying, “Hope you enjoyed the show and got home safe! Sleep well.”
You think for a moment before replying, “You were fantastic! Thank you again. Good night!”
For the first time in weeks, you sleep peacefully through the night without any reminders of Harry’s scent in the room.
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holylulusworld · 4 months
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Kidnapping Miss America
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Summary: It was an easy job. They had it planned well. They weren’t prepared for you.
Pairing: Criminal!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader x Criminal!Jake Jensen
Warnings: bitchy reader, arguments, banter, biting (not the sexy kind), violence against kidnappers, mistaken identity, fighting for dominance, dumbass kidnappers (kinda), grumpy Bucky, tension
A/N: Here's the dream pairing we have been waiting for...😂
Words: 2,7k
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“Fuck, she’s heavier than she looks,” the guy carrying you inside the hideout pants. He complains loudly as you hang over his shoulder. “I thought she was a model or something.”
“Hey, asshat! Say that again and I’ll scratch your eyes out! Never call me heavy again!” You wiggle in his tight hold. “I will kill the both of you and rip your balls off if I see one hair of your dick!”
The other guy chuckles at your antics. “Yeah, never call her heavy again. That’s not nice. And I won’t show you my dick. I don’t get hard for bitchy bitches.”
“Who asked you?” You growl and blindly grasp for your second kidnapper. “How about brightening your horizon and learning some new words? Bitchy bitches my ass.”
“She has claws and teeth,” kidnapper number one drops you to the ground, making you cry out as you land hard on your ass.
“You fucker!” You jump up faster than the guy can blink. They believed you were a damsel in distress and didn’t restrain your ankles or wrists. Now they regret their lapsus because you jump at the guy dropping you to the floor. “I’ll kill you.”
“What the fuck!” The guy exclaims as you tackle him. He ends up on the ground, you on top of him. You dig your nails into his chest and twist his left nipple. “OUCH!” He squeaks ungracefully as you do it again.
The second guy snickers behind you, but you won’t have it. You get up and rip the blindfold off your eyes. “Bastard!” You kick the first guy’s balls before jumping at the second guy. “I’ll kill you!”
“Help me!” The second guy calls for help as you sink your teeth in his neck and repeatedly bite him like a feral dog. “She tries to rip my flesh out! BUCKY! HELP!”
“I’ll get my pound of flesh!”
“Whoa, is this how Miss America acts? I thought you all dream of world peace and American pie!” The first guy slowly gets back up. He limps toward you to drag you off the second guy. “Let him go, you crazy bitch!”
“Eat shit, loser!” You snarl and twirl around to punch the first guy’s nose. “I’m not some girl you can just kidnap! Who do you think you are?”
“What the fuck, Jensen!” The first guy cups his aching crotch. “I wanted to make fast cash, not get my balls rearranged.”
You snicker as the first guy pleadingly looks at you. He’s much taller than you and strong. It shouldn’t be too hard for him to take you down. But he seems to be afraid to get close to you now.
“He said this is an easy job to make fast cash! All we had to do was grab Miss America and make sure she couldn’t win this contest,” the second guy, Jensen, grunts. “That’s not my fucking fault, Bucky!”
“Of course, it is your fucking fault! You listened to that dumbass,” Bucky bites back. His balls are bruised, and he won’t take this lightly. “I can’t believe I listened to you! I could’ve made more with poker tonight. Instead, I got my balls bruised.”
“More like your ego, wannabe kidnapper,” you chuckle darkly. Bucky’s eyes darken and he takes one step toward you.
You grit your teeth and ball your hands into fists, preparing for a fight.
“What are you? A ninja or shit?” Jensen panics as you look like you know what you are doing. “I think she wants to use karate or something.”
“It’s called Krav Maga, dumbass,” you snap at Jensen and get ready for his attack. “Come and get some.” You prepare for a fight with both men. Two tall guys against you, a fair fight. Your trainer didn’t call you firecracker for nothing.
“I think she’s crazy,” Bucky looks at his accomplice. “Jensen, this was a stupid idea. Miss America is a crazy bitch.”
“Dude, I’m not a miss nor Miss America,” you grit your teeth at Bucky. “You are the crazy one here if you think I’ll just roll over and let you pervs touch me!”
“Wait!” Jensen raises his hands in surrender. “You are not Miss America?” He cocks his head to look you up and down. “Hmm…yeah. I guess those girls don’t have a nice ass like you do.”
“Did you just call my perfect bottom fat?” You narrow your eyes. “Say that again if you want to lose a testicle. I dare you four-eyes!”
Jensen looks offended and pouts. He sniffs and turns away for a moment while his partner in crime tries to charm his way out of this situation.
“It’s a perfect peach,” Bucky shamelessly stares at your ass. He hums and cups his crotch again. “If I didn’t risk another kick to my crotch I’d offer you to take care of your peach.” He grins like he made you the nicest compliment.
“Calling my ass peach won’t get you out of trouble! You kidnapped me, the bookkeeper of the year, and I missed the prize-giving because of you. They wanted to give me a golden pencil and a coupon.”
“Bookkeeper of the year?” Bucky groans. “Jensen don’t tell me we were at the wrong place. Again…”
“How shall I know?” Jensen shrugs. “Dude said she’ll be in the room and wait for us to grab her! It’s not my fault he gave us the wrong information.”
“Seriously? You wanted to kidnap Miss America?” You snort. “Dude, they protect her better than the president. Did you honestly believe Miss America is sleeping at a sleazy motel? She sleeps at the four seasons!”
“Great. We grabbed the wrong girl then,” Bucky sighs and runs one hand down his face. “We fucked up big time.” He pouts and stares daggers into his partner’s skull. “You fucked this up, Jensen!”
“He gave us the wrong information! That’s not my fault.” Jensen sniffs. “Why do you always blame me? I’m only the tech nerd to you. You do not respect me at all.”
“Aw, are you having relationship trouble? Do you want me to wait outside so you can make up?” You tease.
Jensen drops his gaze and sighs deeply. He shrugs and mumbles an apology under his breath.
Somehow, you pity these two. They don’t seem to be the smartest criminals and you can’t help but feel sorry for them.
Bucky slowly sits down on the worn-out couch. He switches the TV on, to distract himself from thinking about the money they lost tonight. Bucky switches through the channels, making comments about the shows. “Boring…nonsense…wait..”
“What is it?” Jensen gapes at the TV. “Pump up the volume. I want to hear this.”
You look at the TV, listening to what the reporter has to say. According to them someone tried to kidnap Miss America and got shot. They didn’t make it out alive.
“Whoa, this could’ve been us.” Bucky huffs. “Take that, Walker. I knew it was a stupid idea to work with that fucker! He gave us the wrong address to get all the money!”
“You only work with idiots, huh?” You sit next to Bucky. “So, tell me, how much money do you make with crimes.”
“Not much lately. We used to make a lot of cash, but our concurrent fucked us over,” Bucky grumbles. “We need fast cash to keep our business running and stop Rumlow from taking over our club.”
“How do you usually make cash if you don’t kidnap women?” You grin darkly as Bucky’s frown deepens. “Come on, we are kidnapping buddies now. You can trust me.”
“You kicked my balls, lady!” Bucky snaps at you. “I don’t trust you at all. My balls don’t trust you. And my gut instinct doesn’t trust you.”
You snort. “Fine, I’ll go home, grab my prize on the way, and tell Rumlow greetings from you two losers…”
Jensen stares at you with wide fearful eyes as you make your way toward the door.
“Rumlow?” He hiccups. “You know Rumlow?”
“He prefers when I call him Brock and rub his shoulders after a long day,” you look over your shoulder to flash Bucky, who suddenly stands behind you, a smirk. “Did I forget to mention that I’m his bookkeeper?”
Jensen makes an odd noise. He wrings his hands and tries to not show he’s scared to hell and back at the mention of Brock Rumlow.
“What? Not so cocky any longer?” You turn on your heels to jab two fingers into Bucky’s chest. “Miss America my ass. I’m worth more than that bony bitch!”
Bucky looks you up and down. He hums and immediately pounces on you. “You’re right,” you squeak when he throws you over his shoulder again. “Rumlow will pay us a fucking lot of money to get you back.”
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“Uh-Bucky,” Jensen watches his partner restrain you to the heater. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to treat her this way. Rumlow will kill us,”
“Aw, your little partner is scared,” you snicker. “How about you two play by my rules from now on, and I help you get more money than you could ever spend?”
Bucky crosses his arms over his chest. He sniffs and turns to leave the room. “I don’t trust you.”
“Wait, maybe she can help us,” Jensen doesn’t want to end up dead because they kidnapped you. If you are willing to help them, he’ll do anything to get in your good graces.
Bucky sneers as his partner looks at you like a lost puppy. “Get out of the fucking room, Jensen. We don’t negotiate with girls kicking a man’s balls.”
“It’s called massage,” you giggle and snort as Bucky turns around to glare at you. “Don’t tell me you never got kicked in the balls before. You scream awful first date.”
“Watch your tongue!” Bucky points his index finger at you. “I’m an awesome first date. The ladies never complained.”
“Yeah, because you bored them to death.” The look he gives you makes you giggle again. “You’re not used to a woman talking back, huh?”
“What you said about the money,” Jensen clears his throat to get your attention, “is it true? Can you help us?”
“Well,” you look at the handcuffs around your wrist. “I will talk if your partner takes these off again. If not, you will regret putting your hands on me.”
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“How do you want to help us? Talk,” Bucky barks while his partner expectantly looks at you. “I don’t have all night.”
“I got more than enough time,” you stretch your body and yawn. “How about you get some food and beer first? I’ll talk after I eat. You fucked my day up.”
“Uh-I don’t have much money with me,” Jensen looks inside his wallet, sighing deeply. “I got ten bucks. What do you have, Bucky?”
“Guys,” you sigh and shake your head. “How did you survive for so long without my help?” You get up from the couch and grab your bag. “Christ, you should have at least one hundred bucks with you. You never know if you need to run.”
“What?” Bucky furrows his brows. “What do you mean you must run away?”
“I’m working for a dangerous criminal who likes to kill people if they look at him for too long. I have a plan, always.”
“Making plans is my job,” Jensen grins proudly. “Not this one, of course. Walker made the plan this time.”
“Hmm…” you open your wallet and hand Bucky fifty bucks. “Here, get us some food and beer. I think you know where my car is. Get it here, and don’t get caught. I trust you that you don’t run off and leave me alone with your partner.”
“I’m not your servant,” Bucky grunts and snatches the money out of your hands. “Why do you need your car?”
“I’ll tell you if you come back with food and beer…”
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“Here,” Bucky slams the beer on the table. He drops three paper bags filled with takeout next to the beer, huffing as you are busy playing the blind man’s bluff card game with Jensen. “What are you doing? She’s still our hostage.”
“Jakie and I discussed the most important things,” you coo, and grab one of the bags. “I hope you brought some dessert too. This is going to be a long night.”
“Yeah? How about you answer my questions first,” Bucky grunts and slams his fist onto the table. “Why are there three suitcases and shit in your trunk?”
“Uh-“Batting your eyelashes you try to not give away too much. “That’s none of your business. I was about to go on vacation.”
“Vacation for how long?” Bucky steps closer and snatches the card from your forehead. He crumples the card up and flings it across the room. “I’m done playing games. Talk.”
“Stop barking at me like a feral dog,” you snap at Bucky. "Jake and I had a great time without your grumpy ass around."
“Stop messing with me,” the brunette pants heavily. “We’ve got no time for this shit.”
“Fine. I kinda stole the access data for  Rumlow’s offshore bank accounts and his black book. I know where he’s hiding every single buck.”
Bucky licks his lips while his partner in crime nervously shifts in his seat. “He’s going to kill all of us, Buck. We need to get out of town!”
“Relax, Jakie!” You wave his concern off. “Rumlow is busy with another poker game. He’s out of town for a week. More than enough time to get out of town and transfer all of his money to my bank account in the Bahamas.”
“Bahamas? You think he won’t find you there?” Bucky huffs. “You’re stupider than I thought if you believe for one second you can rob Brock Rumlow and get away with it.”
“Aw, sweet cheeks,” you pat Bucky’s cheek. “I already robbed every single buck. I only need to get out of town, and this country.”
“She robbed all of his money,” Jensen hiccups. “What if he believes we had something to do with all of this?”
“You know,” sizing Jensen up you smirk, “I could need help hiding the money. You’re smart and reliable. If you are willing to follow me, we can be Gods.”
“Do you listen to yourself sometimes?” Bucky huffs. “Rumlow will flay Jensen and you alive. You have no survival instinct at all.”
“I got survival instinct,” you bump your chest into Bucky’s trying to intimidate him. “I kicked your balls, remember? I could have easily broken your neck too.”
“I’d like to see you try.” He dares to grin. “I doubt you’ll be able to wrap your hands around my neck. Little peach.”
“Well, if you are the survival expert you should join me and Jakie,” you challenge. “Your business is dead. So, I heard.”
“We could buy an island!” Jensen dreamily sighs. “Cocktails on the beach. The sun kissing my skin.”
“You’ll get sunburn,” Bucky grunts. He crosses his arms over his chest while eying you warily. He cocks a brow when you open a beer and take a large swig.
“I’ll pay you,” you run your fingertips over his bicep. “What’s your price? How much does your service cost me?”
Jensen watches you sip on the beer. He hums and imagines helping you for free to touch your peach. “I’ll do it for free!”
“Jensen!” Bucky mutters.
“Aw, he only wants to be a good boy for me, right?” You turn on your heels to pat Jensen’s cheek. He smiles widely. “I got more money than you could ever dream of. I only need someone to help me hide it and a bodyguard.”
“Bucky,” Jensen pleads.
“Fine,” the brunette throws his hands up. “If we die, I’ll blame you, Jensen.”
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On your way out of town, you relax in the passenger seat staring at your bank account. Fifty million dollars should be enough to start a new life.
While Jensen takes a nap in the back seat, Bucky is driving the car you rented using a fake identity. He’s still a grumpy ass but you know, he’ll do anything to protect you. If only for the money you promised them.
Soon you will leave this country and your old life. Rumlow will regret firing you. He will remember your name till the end of his life.
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badasmuse · 4 months
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Day Four: Edging
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Bada Lee x Reader
On the fourth day of christmas my true love gave to me: fucking nothing.
18+ MDNI mstlst
you and bada decided to go shopping for christmas decorations. since it’s your second favorite holiday, (halloween being the first) she knows you want to go all out. she took you to party city, your favorite store.
“bada look at these. look at how cute these are!” you exclaim looking at the inflatable reindeer.
“it’s our last one, i would get it.” the store associate says walking past you. “if you’ll follow me,” he leads you to the display, “this is how it looks and if you click this button here, the nose glows.” he shows you and you get excited.
“i so have to get this!” you say bouncing.
the associate looks at you, “okay i’ll keep it behind the counter for you, love.” he says walking towards the counter with the inflatable.
you walk around a little longer with bada and soon you have everything you need. the associate approaches the register and waves you over. “i can take you over here, love.” he says.
you walk over, bada hot on your heels. setting the stuff down, you look over everything and gasp, “bada we don’t have a wreath! can you grab one please?”
she nods and goes to where they are and you pull your wallet out.
“hey,” the associate says, “you’re very pretty. is there a way i can get your number?”
you blink, blushing a bit. people asking for your number makes you flustered. like yeah you have a girlfriend and you can easily go ‘i have a girlfriend no.’ but something about the awkward question throws you off and you forget how to speak. luckily, your girlfriend saves you.
“she has a girlfriend. how much is everything?” bada asks putting her hand on your waist, the other one taking your wallet from you. she wasn’t gonna let you pay.
“oh. all together it’s $148.22. cash or card?” he says bitterly.
“cash.” bada smiles, pulling a few bills out of her pocket.
after paying, bada grabs all the bags and follows you to the car. she sets the stuff in the trunk and gets in the car after opening the passenger door for you.
———
“can’t believe you just let him ask for your number like that. like he wasn’t calling you ‘love’ the entire time.” bada mumbles into your cunt, flicking her tongue over your clit.
oh yeah- when you guys got home she brought you straight to the bedroom. she was pissed that associate was flirting with you.
“i-i didn’t-“ she cuts you off.
“then you sent me away? he kept looking at you. staring at your boobs when you would get excited about something and do that cute bounce thing you do.” she pinched your nipple before sucking on your clit.
“i’m gonna cum!” you exclaim, and all stimulation stops. you don’t feel a thing and your orgasm is ripped from you.
“fuck what the fuck bada?” you groan.
“this a punishment.” she goes back putting her mouth on you. your legs shake and you squeal.
“fuck bada please.. so good.” you figured she’d edge you again so this time you’re just not gonna tell her when you have to cum (which is in any second now.)
but girl, bada knows you. she’s insulted you think she wouldn’t know when you’re about to make a mess on her face. she pulls away just as you were about to.
“please!” you beg, tears filling your eyes.
this goes on a few more times and your tears soak the pillow you’re using to cover your face.
she then pulls away completely and puts clothes back on you. “it’s a punishment. you don’t get to cum.”
“why am i being punished when he was the one flirting with me? i didn’t do a thing!” you whine.
“i can’t punish him. not like this.” bada says laughing.
“damn bitch boy…”
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Taglist (open! comment to be added!): @waveartistry @sun-nyy @yngtort @elliesblkgirlfriend @jennamc75 @m0r0s1111
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bigtreefest · 1 month
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Chapter 5: From the Ground Up
From: You Catch More Bees With Honey Series
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Pairing: Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader
Summary: It’s time for Bucky to take charge in your absence.
Word count: 4,065
Content/warnings: Interrogation, restraints (not in the sexy way), allusions to violence, swears, name calling, pet name usage, female reader, kissing, horseback riding?
Author’s Note: I REALLY loved writing this chapter. This is where we start to see the other storylines of the Outta Nowhere AU emerge, so keep an eye out as those get released.
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
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Bucky was mad-no, he was seething as he paced back and forth in your home office. It was in the wee hours of the morning when his private jet had landed on the local airstrip. Within that same hour, Sam had personally escorted in the little nerd responsible for a good third of the turmoil going on in Bucky’s head: Jake.
Sam had taken the liberty of pre-binding his hands and duct taping his mouth shut. Bucky was going to enjoy ripping the goatee straight off his mousy little face.
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Five hours ago
As soon as Steve had gotten off the phone with Bucky, he called the construction crew. They kept them on call for things like this, but the two of them never thought the stakes would be this high. It wasn’t often that someone important and non-expendable was put in this type of danger, let alone someone Bucky cared about. As he was finishing up the call and directing them towards your house, Sam reached out to him with a sticky note.
On it was a name and the address to an apartment in the city, along with Sam’s scrawled ‘pick her up on your way over.’ Steve nodded as he hung up his call and placed another, grabbing the duffel bag he kept packed by the door and heading out.
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Three Hours Later
Bucky hadn’t left your side since the rocks collapsed. Luckily, the two of you had been able to find a small gap in the rocks where you both sat. It wasn’t large enough to keep air circulating, but it was big enough to at least allow the two of you to talk with each other. You and Bucky had shared so much, from him sharing his first business operation with Steve, to you detailing crazy college stories of when you, your roommate, and Curtis would hang out.
Bucky laughed along. There was a whole side of you he never knew. He had studied intently what showed up on paper, and he knew the hardships you’d faced from your deep conversation last week, but this? This was a whole new, more playful side. He was surprised to see your spirits so high despite the situation.
“I do not believe that one bit. No way you were climbing up clock towers at school just to steal the clock hands, or a random brick or whatever. You’re too straight-laced.”
You laughed and rolled your eyes as you leaned your head back against the stone wall. “Oh please, people already pay so much to go there, if anything, I had more than the right to do it. Our money pays for that stuff. Technically we owned it. Not the school.”
Bucky snorted. “You didn’t even pay tuition. Didn’t they pay you to go there?”
“That’s besides the point, Bucket. Fight the man. And anyway, if you think I’m straight laced, you should meet my roommate.”
Bucky grimaced. “Yeah, about that. She’s on her way here right now.”
Your ears perked up. “Decks is on the way? Oh, that’s good. She’ll be super helpful. She’s so organized, although, I can’t imagine she took well to whoever had to interrupt her beauty sleep. Who’s the poor guy?”
Bucky sharply inhaled. “Steve.”
“Oooo hooo hoo.” You laughed. “That’ll be a fun one for both of them. They’re either gonna love or hate each other. What are all the rest of the ETAs?”
Bucky looked at his watch. Well, really, he had been checking his watch this whole time to monitor his pulse, which was over 100 consistently since the tunnel buckled. He was shaking with concern for you, but kept his voice level to keep you calm, a trick he and Steve had worked tirelessly to master. “Ummm… looks like the construction crew should be here within the hour. And I’ll bet Decks and Steve will be pulling up any minute.”
You hummed in acknowledgment. “Anyone else coming that I should know about? So I can figure out where they’ll best fit around the farm? Decks is great with the animals.”
You hadn’t heard all of Bucky’s or Curtis’s phone calls earlier since they stepped out of the cave to make them with better reception. Bucky didn’t want you to know Jake was on the way, mostly because he knew you’d make him promise not to hurt the rat, and he didn’t want to have to make that promise with the high likelihood it would be broken. He decided a better move would be to change the subject.
“So where did the nickname ‘Decks’ come from anyway?”
“Oh! Well it’s actually-“
Bucky heard footsteps near the mouth of the mine. He did his best to politely cut you off. “Wait, Honey, I’m so sorry, quiet for one second.”
He sat there and silently listened, the rustling becoming closer and clearer until he identified it as hooves clopping gently against the soft ground. He heard Curtis’s voice say something vaguely before he moved to get his feet underneath him and brush off his pants.
“I think Curtis is here with Steve and Decks. I don’t want anyone else to come in, just in case it’s still too unstable. Can you tell me exactly what you need them to do?”
You nodded, even though you knew Bucky couldn’t see it and began to lay out the instructions. Decks and Steve weren’t here to clean out the tunnels, they were here to help keep the farm running until you were freed, and no one knew how long that would take. It was best to keep only those who could be closely trusted around until this was all figured out. God forbid the authorities come knocking, or worse yet, Cole. Bucky held onto your every word before briefly leaving the tunnel to relay the information.
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Bucky returned to you shortly after instructing Curtis to take Steve and Decks back to the house so they could rest before their long day tomorrow. Everything needed to run as smoothly as possible to not raise suspicion from your absence, which they were going to claim was due to a corn crop farmer’s conference out in Iowa if anyone asked.
After another hour with you, Bucky let you know the construction company arrived and was starting to stabilize the ceiling so they could dig you out. “I’ve gotta go deal with some business, so I’ll be back soon. Plus, I can’t get in the way of these vehicles. But say the word to one of the crew and I’ll be back here in a minute flat. I promise.”
Bucky’s promises meant a lot. That was something you had learned in your conversations. He never said something unless he had a plan to deliver. A man’s word was everything in his line of work.
“Okay, I’m going to hold you to that!” You yelled back.
Bucky chuckled. “I’m going to send Sam back here as soon as he arrives. He’ll keep you company.” And with that, Bucky made his way back to the house.
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So this is where Bucky found himself, walking back and forth menacingly behind Jake, who had been tied down to the guest chair in your office. Jake’s eyes shifted back and forth with nervousness as he tried and failed to hold back whimpers and near-hyperventilating breaths.
Bucky had been silent for only ten minutes. He liked the way it made them squirm. He could sit and stare all day, completely unbothered, as anyone he interrogated slowly lost their mind. Of course, there were other, more fun ways, to get information, but he wouldn’t dare mark up your home. He’d never let the one they called ‘The Winter Soldier’ be unleashed in your sanctuary. This is the closest he would ever get, though, and it would never be seen by you.
Bucky stalked around Jake and crouched in front of him. “A milk maid came in here and told me that you’d given him information about this farm. Care to share?”
Jake shook his head vigorously and whined through the duct tape over his mouth. Bucky leaned in closer. What was more terrifying than being yelled at by him? Bucky with an alarmingly level voice.
“Sorry, I couldn’t quite catch that. I can help you talk a little better, but you’ve gotta be quiet. There are people upstairs sleeping, and I can’t guarantee they’ll be as nice as me if you wake them. Promise to be good?”
Jake nodded carefully and slowly. Bucky reached for the tape at the corner of Jake’s mouth and ripped it off quickly. Jake’s head lurched forward, his mouth open with a silent scream between gasping breaths. Bucky examined the sticky side of the tape. There was no hair on it. The steam from Jake’s mouth must’ve reduced the stickiness just enough that it didn’t cause damage. Shame.
Bucky slammed his hands over Jake’s on the armrests of the chair. “Tell me everything.” He gritted out between clenched teeth.
Jake giggled uncomfortably. “Uh….there’s not really much to know, mister…sir….does this have to do with Peach? I thought she owned this farm now. Where is she?”
Bucky growled. “That’s not important right now, but yes, this is about this farm. Tell me everything you told the guy with the soft hands and the jackets that were too crisp to indicate a day of work in his whole life.”
Bucky had no intention to associate that with his own designer crisp suits that he wore everyday back in the city. That was different, it was a totally separate line of work, plus, he wasn’t trying to pose as something that he’s not when he wore them. Anyway, he’s not the one on trial here.
“Oh! You mean Cole? Fucking prick.” Jake mumbled looking down and to the side. “I can promise whatever he said to you was a lie. That guy’s always been awful. He hides a demon face behind his handsomeness.”
Bucky didn’t want to be on Jake’s side, but he couldn’t argue with that. But to keep him talking, Bucky leaned in closer, moving his hand towards the knife on his belt loop. Jake flinched and raised his hands in surrender as much as he could with his wrists tied down.
“Okay, okay, I promise I didn’t say much. At least not on purpose. I was at an investors party up in San Francisco when Cole bumped into me. He was bragging about how he had just inherited his parents’ company and it was way bigger than when we were in high school. Frankly, I didn’t care, I make an effort to forget about a lot from back then, mostly him, so I tried to disprove him by saying that there are still nice little farms around despite his family’s efforts. I told him I still had my mom buy me honey that Peach makes, herself.” He hung his head in shame.
Bucky huffed as he leaned back against your desk and crossed his arms. “Well, way to go. You know, they painted you to be some genius, but you’re an absolute idiot.”
Jake looked up and scrunched his nose. “Well I actually prefer the term loser, bu-“
Bucky raised his hand to stop Jake from talking. “I really don’t care. What matters is that you’ve made a mess for Honeybee that inconveniences all of us. I’ve gotta be the one to work on cleaning this up while she’s otherwise occupied.”
Jake cocked his head to the side and furrowed his brow in confusion. “Who the fuck is ‘Honeybee?’ Are we talking about the same person?”
Bucky sighed and wiped a hand over his face, stopping with it covering his mouth. He looked at the helpless man in front of him. How had you ever dated this guy? If he used to be great, what on Earth happened to him? “God, you’re slow to catch on. Yes, it’s the same person, but I don’t think the sweet peach you used to know and love is in there anymore. Not after you abandoned her. And especially not after you gave up her operation on a silver platter to Cole.”
Jake swallowed as he caught on. He had seen the devious glint in Cole’s eye when they had run into each other, but just thought it was a product of Cole’s braggadocious success. Not his complete hunger for domination. Despite the way Jake left, he still cared for you. He didn’t want to see the thing you loved taken away, especially by the guy who caused him so much grief. The guy your family defended him from on so many occasions. He felt awful. You’d taken care of Jake when he was around, but when the opportunity came for him to do the same for you, he failed.
Tears began to well up in his eyes. “I’m so sorry. Whatever I can do to help, I will, please, misterrrr…….”
Bucky’s shoulders pushed back in arrogance. Jake squealed all the information he had and didn’t even know the name of the man interrogating him. That wouldn’t do, especially if Bucky wanted to eventually release Jake back out into the wild once this was all over. He made a mental note to have someone coach Jake on how to not give up sensitive intel so easily. But for now, Bucky would take advantage of the ease of informational access.
“Barnes. You get to call me Barnes.”
“Ooh! So like a cool nickname only I get to use? I feel so special.”
Bucky chuckled dryly at that. Jake really was clueless. “No. Not at all like that.” Bucky leaned forward, elbows on his knees as his face inched closer to Jake’s.
“Now tell me everything you know about the mines.”
Jake’s eyebrows raised. “Oh? Those old things? Yeah, Peach and I used to make out in the-“
Bucky waved his hand again as he closed his eyes, unable to look at Jake for another second. “No. Skip that part. What else?” He quickly said, dismissively.
“I know they’re old? Like crazy old and probably prone to collapse at this point. But Pe- I mean, your Honeybee does some occasional civil engineering contracting work. She could probably easily whip up a plan to reinforce them.”
Bucky looked at Jake more intently. He liked the way Jake said his Honeybee, but he couldn’t let that distract him right now. And anyway, you were very much your own person. Far from his. If anything, he was yours. He knew about all your business endeavors, but not those kinds of specifics. “Keep talking.”
“Yeah, I kept up with her after school-well, more like I asked my mom to keep up with her. Apparently she’s like, designed bridges for town and stuff. Why? What’s going on with the mines?”
“That’s not technically your business.” Bucky stood there, debating on his next move.
Jake’s eyes lit up as he gasped loudly. “Oh my gosh. Is she in trouble!? Did she get hurt in a mine!?”
Bucky slapped his hand over Jake’s mouth and whisper yelled at him. “What did I say about keeping it down?”
Jake winced and whispered back. “Sorry. Does Curtis know?”
Bucky nodded. “Yes. And he’s upstairs sleeping. Don’t. Poke. The Bear.”
Jake nodded again. He was being so compliant, Bucky figured he could let a few more details slip. Maybe Jake was a little smarter than Bucky gave him credit for. “She’s trapped in one of the smaller caves. I’ve already got a construction crew digging her out.”
“Wait wait wait. You guys have a proper plan for this, right? You’ve gotta put supports in first and then calculate the load-bearing rocks. You can’t just go willy-nilly digging or it could get worse.” Man, based off that language, Bucky had no doubt Jake truly did grow up around you.
“Good observation, Jakey. That’s where you come in. I know I could’ve just called you if I wanted to know what you told Cole, but I needed you in person to know how serious I am. Grab your little computer and we’ll get going so you can run the calculations while Honeybee talks you through them. You can still ride a horse, right?”
Jake moved to get up, only to be stopped by the restraints. Bucky turned around from the door, voice dripping with fake sympathy. “Oh, that’s right, my bad. I’ll get you untied and then we can go.”
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Sam was talking with you about where to put which construction vehicles when he heard hooves make their way to the entrance. Bucky dismounted the back of a horse holding a laptop, followed by Jake who was riding ahead of him on that same horse.
“Not a word of this, Samuel.” Bucky growled lowly into Sam’s ear with clenched teeth. “I’ve already threatened the kid with the same.”
Bucky still had no idea how to ride a horse on his own, but would never admit that, so he was actually extremely grateful that Jake could take the reins. Sam had taken the other horse to get to you, leaving only one back at the house for him and Jake to use.
Bucky handed Jake the laptop and patted him on the back harshly, making it more of a shove. This led him to the small hole where you and Sam had just been talking.
Bucky followed at a quicker pace, reaching the area just before Jake could and held his arm out in front of the blond to bar him from going any farther. “Hi Honey, it’s me. I brought you a little present to help out, I hope you’re not mad. It’s your old friend Jacob from high school. Say hi.”
“Jake? Like… Jensen?” You responded, trying to look through the small hole unsuccessfully.
“Yeah, Peach, it’s me. I’m here to get you out. A-and Mr. Barnes wants you to know he’s been nothing but kind to me.” Jake clutched his laptop firmly to his chest, leaning over to be heard better through the small opening.
Bucky gave a stern nod to Jake for already responding well to his coaching on the way over here. Jake sat down by the hole where Bucky had sat before and got to work.
“Okay, Bee. Like I told you before, you say the word and I’ll be here in a minute. You can time me.”
“Where are you going?” He could hear the slight worry in your voice.
“To run a farm. And by that, I mean listen to Curtis.”
You giggled. “Okay, Bucket. See you soon.”
He looked back and smiled before turning towards Sam and pointing into his chest. “You tell me the second she’s close to getting out. I’ll be there.”
Sam nodded. “Sure thing, boss. Need help getting back up on your horse?”
Bucky was already turned away and heading back to your house. He waved a hand dismissively. “No. I’m walking.”
Sam chuckled as he watched the mob boss trudge away. He knew something had shifted in Bucky’s feelings. And he definitely had his suspicions that Bucky couldn’t ride a horse.
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When Bucky returned to your house, he didn’t go upstairs. He feared the creaking of the steps would wake Decks, Curtis, and Steve. Plus, he knew he wasn’t going to sleep. Why would he when there was so much to do to help you? He would just get in the way at the mines, so he went into your office. He pulled out the files and article you had planned to show him the previous night regarding Cole from the kitchen, and as he sat down in your chair, he saw a contract with a familiar watermark. Shit.
Fuck. Shit. Bitch.
The letterhead was from ‘Turners Farm Corporation,’ which he had expected, but the associated law firm was ‘Hansen & Co.’ Bucky had his fair share of law firms in his back pocket, but this was not one of them. In fact, it was quite the opposite.
Lloyd Hansen was something of Bucky’s rival in the city. He was an unhinged lunatic. Where Bucky ran things with honor, poise, and calculated movements, Lloyd was messy, unpredictable, and reckless. He’d been trying to make multiple steps into Bucky’s territory, geographically and business-wise, but Bucky had done a decent job at shutting it down thus far.
And now Cole was in cahoots with Lloyd, well, not him directly on paper, just his bitch-ass sister who ran the firm. Bucky couldn’t believe-well, actually he could. He could believe that Cole would have teamed up with Hansen to build enough power for a takeover, especially considering it didn’t add up if Cole was making these moves on his own.
Fired by frustration that more than supplemented the sleep Bucky lacked from not just tonight, but this whole week, he snapped a picture of the contract and sent it to Sam. Sam would make sure it made its way through the right channels and contacts still back in the city. For now, Bucky had a more important priority than personally dealing with business: You. He had never been so grateful for Sam.
As he skimmed through the final page of the contract Cole had proposed to you, the first rooster crowed. Bucky got up to gather the eggs and make breakfast like any other day in the routine he’d grown so familiar with over just the past two weeks. But instead of cooking for you, he was cooking for the small army that came to your aid.
Curtis came barreling down the steps first, followed by Decks, and then eventually, Steve, who slumped and slinked down the stairs, reminiscent of Bucky’s first day doing the same. At least they were able to get themselves up.
Bucky plated their food, Curtis eyeing him with a small smile that Bucky failed to notice, and he sat down in his normal spot to start eating. He honestly didn’t have the appetite to do so, but he knew he’d crash without food since he already wasn’t sleeping, so he forced it down, preparing to go over the assignments with everyone once again.
Steve would be doing what Bucky had last week to set up the farmer’s market since it was scheduled to go again. Decks would be taking over the tasks you had, feeding the animals, and then doing sales with Bucky since people already knew his face. No need to raise more suspicion by introducing two new people to an event you were usually at.
Once everyone cleared their plates, they got to work, doing everything they could to be of assistance for the mob boss who was very evidently on edge.
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It was early afternoon when Bucky got a call from Sam. He immediately picked it up.
“We’re close, boss. Only a couple more large boulders to go before there’s a big enough gap to pull her through.”
Bucky dropped the empty crates he was carrying onto the floor of the storage shed where he was returning them from the farmers market. Lucky for him, the storage shed was much closer to the mines than the barn.
Bucky was full-on sprinting in a way no one had ever seen. He never had to once he rose to power. All he did was walk, his long strides alone commanded enough respect. But this wasn’t about pride. It was about you.
He arrived at the mine entrance, breathing heavily, just as Sam was holding your hand, helping you step over a pile of sand and pebbles. Jake stood awkwardly to the side as you looked up from your feet to see Bucky quickly moving toward you. A smile took over your face and you sighed in relief. He scooped you up and spun you around before setting you down again and using his large hands to frame your face. Bucky didn’t care about the dirt and grime that had built up on the two of you. All he cared about was your safe return to his arms.
You watched as his eyes darted between yours and down to your lips. You wouldn’t hold back anymore. He had put all his resources into saving you, helping you. Without wasting another second, you leaned up on your toes and smashed your lips into his. When you pulled back, Bucky lost consciousness, collapsing in your arms.
Next >
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Bonus A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Tbh I thought some moments in here were so funny, but I’d love to hear your thoughts!! Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are sooooo appreciated!!! If I could, I’d make a secret handshake with you through the phone for following this plot line with me. 😉🤠
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