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rafeandonlyrafe · 6 months

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who did this to you?

words: 1.4k

warnings: parental abuse!, drinking, physical violence, cursing, kind of allusions to sex?? but its pretty vague imo, reader has a bruise and its briefly described

taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @winterrrnight @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450

you groan hearing the engine roar behind you, being able to tell exactly whose truck it was from the sound alone. and just like normal, rafe cameron had spectacularly bad timing.

“where you going, princess?” rafe calls out the window, of course pulling to the side of the road when he sees you walking.

“piss off, cameron.” you call, not turning to look at him. “im not in the fucking mood for it today.”

“such dirty words for a princess to be using.” rafe tsks, using the ironic nickname that somehow shifted from pogue princess from when you first moved to town, to now just princess.

“not that i ever want to see you rafe, but especially not today.” you simply keep walking, hoping that rafe would piss off or get bored and drive away, but he stays rolling slowly along next to you.

“okay, cut it out.” rafe shouts. “it’s starting to get dark, just get in so i can give you a ride home.”

“not going home.” you shrug, finally looking over to rafe.

upon making eye contact, you can see his eyebrows rise, and he immediately slams on the trucks breaks and puts it into park, not caring that he’s stopped in the middle of the road. he gets out of the truck with a harsh slam of his door, his chest heaving as he rounds the bonnet to join you on the sidewalk.

“what happened?” his hand comes to cup your jaw gently, turning your face into the streetlight to give him a better view of the purple bruise forming around your temple. “who did this to you?”

“it’s nothing rafe.” you shove his hand away. “don’t act like you fucking care about me now.”

you try to push past him, continue your walk in the general direction of popes house, hoping his parents wouldn’t mind you crashing there for the night, but rafe stops you with firm hands on both your shoulders. “i may give you shit for being a pogue, but that doesn’t mean i want to see you hurt, princess. now tell me who did this to you. was it jj?”

tears well in your eyes at the very thought of your good friend putting his hands on you, and it just further exemplifies the differences between the kooks and pogues for rafe to not even realize how absurd it is to mention jj. he sees him as violent and dangerous, nothing more.

“no, it wasn’t jj, you dick.”

“then tell me who!” rafe shouts, shaking your shoulders slightly, making you cower back when his voice raises.

“fuck.” rafe sighs out, hands instantly dropping to his sides. “i’m sorry- i’m so sorry princess, i didn’t mean to scare you.”

“stop it.” you plead, letting your tears flow freely down your cheeks, an intense build up from since you started holding them back hours ago. “stop treating me like this, just go back to being a jerk and calling me a dirty pogue.”

“y/n.” rafe states your name firmly, and it almost shocks you. you know he knows it, but he always goes for calling you princess rather than what everyone else calls you. “tell me what happened, please. i do care.”

“it was my dad.” you blurt out. “there? are you fucking happy? that my dad got drunk and threw a fucking beer bottle at me. i was lucky it didn’t break and cut my eye. is that what you wanted to know? my fucking sob story so you can use it against me next time?”

“princess…” rafe sighs, letting you collapse into his chest, no longer able to hold back the sobs racking your body, shoulders shaking at the intensity.

your knees give out, and rafe lowers to the ground with you, effortlessly scooping you onto his lap as your hands grasp at his shirt, keeping your face pressed against his chest, making a mess of snot and tears on the fabric, but you’re far too emotional to care.

“breathe, princess, please. you’re gonna pass out.” rafe strokes over your back, trying to encourage you to get some sort of control on your sobs, but the sweetness of his touch, so counter to what you’ve felt from him before, has you choking on your breath.

“hey-fuck, your lips are turning blue. calm down, please.” rafe says after pulling your head away from his chest once you stopped making noises, your body still shaking with tears pouring down your face.

“fuck.” rafe groans, not knowing what to do to make you relax enough to breath, so he does the only thing he can think of and presses his mouth against yours, moving his lips until you kiss him back, taking a deep breath through your nose as you slide your lips against his, gasping and getting more air in your lungs with he licks his tongue out against your bottom lip, asking for permission.

“rafe, what the fuck?” you ask, but your voice is soft and mumbled, still recovering.

“i needed some way to calm you down.” rafe shrugs, acting far too casual for someone who just made out with you on the side of the road, sat on the sidewalk.

“this doesn’t mean i like you now.” you state, although you are thankful for the kiss, it pulled you very quickly of whatever spiral you were going down.

“of course not.” rafe nods. “even if i was a good kisser.”

“i never said that.” you frown, looking down to realize that you’re still sitting on rafes lap. you stand on shaky legs, annoyed that rafe so effortlessly stands up next to you, like he is completely unaffected.

“come on, you can stay at my house. or i can give you a ride to popes or kiaras. just… i’m not leaving you out here.”

“you can take me to popes.” you say, noting how dark its gotten and really not wanting to walk the rest of the way.

rafe opens the passenger side door, and you climb up into his truck, resisting the word to insult the stupidity of the height, considering rafe did just save you from a panic attack and is now giving you a ride.

“where do you live? is it that blue cottage?” rafe asks once he starts the car and begins the drive, leaving you to recover for a few minutes before questioning you.

“yeah, why?” you question.

“just going to have a chat with your dad.” rafe says, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.

“rafe-” you turn to him. “please don’t do anything. i can take care of it on my own, i don’t need some kook coming into my business-” “fucking stop with the kooks and pogues!” rafe shouts, not caring that you flinch this time, wanting the words to hurt. “i don’t fucking care about that when it comes to you, why can’t you see that princess?”

“stop the car.” you tell rafe.

“no, i’m taking you to popes.” rafe argues back.

“no, stop the car because i want to fucking kiss you again!” you say, body pressing forward against your seatbelt when rafe quickly presses the brake to the floor. he undoes his seatbelt as you undo yours, meeting in the middle as your lips crash together, and the kiss is anything but soft, an epic meeting of teeth and tongue as you both fight for dominance.

rafe wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you in closer until you have to move one leg over his lap to straddle him, letting your bodies mold together as you moan into his mouth, your hands grabbing at his hair, and then gliding down to feel the cords of muscle on his neck, the firmness of his shoulders.

“you drive me fucking wild, princess.” rafe says against your lips, taking your bottom lip into his teeth and giving it a tug.

“i take it back, rafe. take me to your house.” rafe smiles, giving you another quick peck before you separate, but this time you stay in the center seat, rafes hand firmly on your thigh as he speeds towards tanneyhill.

“don’t think this means i’m not going to talk to your dad.” rafe says as he gets closer.

“it’s fine, really.” you say. “he was just drunk, he doesn’t drink very often.”

“princess, he hurt you. you deserve to feel safe in your own home.” rafe explains as he puts the car into park, quickly shutting off the engine. “or i can just kidnap you and keep you here with me. turn you full kook.” he smirks, hands gripping your waist and bringing your lips together.

“never gonna happen, cameron.” you smile against his mouth. “pogue for life.”

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soobnny · 16 days

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ex!seungmin who thinks about you when he receives his diploma during his graduation in law school because he couldn’t have done it without you, and it breaks his heart that while he’d reached his dreams, you couldn’t be there to see him make it.

he’d remember the countless sleepless nights you’d stayed up with him to review for his tests

or when you’d urge him to get some rest or eat his meals when he’d forget sometimes

you were there to help him realize he could do it, coming with him to apply for numerous universities

you were there from the beginning, so why couldn’t you be there to see him reach the end?

and it was a mutual decision—the breakup. but he finds that, as he reaps the rewards of his efforts, it doesn’t feel right that you aren’t in the crowd

that night, seungmin ponders over whether to call you or not

instead, he sends a few text messages

he doesn’t think he could talk to you without crying, doesn’t think he’s ready to hear your voice again

seungmin (9:57pm): i graduated today haha

seungmin (9:58pm): i just wanted to say thank you. i know that things are over between us, but it’s undeniable the influence you had on me while i was in law school. i don’t know if i’d be able to make it this far if you hadn’t believed in me the way you did. thank you. i can’t say it enough.

seungmin (10:01pm): there’s so much i want to tell you, but i guess i don’t really have the right to do that anymore. still, i hope you realize how much you’ve changed the way i looked at life (for the better, i can hear you complaining already)

seungmin (10:03pm): oh, and i found this letter i’d written back when i was still in my 1st year. it’s addressed to you, and i vividly remember telling myself to give it to you on the day i graduate. haha, somehow i’d thought we’d still be together when today would come. lmk if you still want it or if it’s too awkward then that’s okay too

seungmin (10:06pm): alright that’s it. sorry if these messages freaked you out a little. i’m not even sure this is still your number

seungmin (10:07pm): thanks again, (name). you are the one person who made me believe i could make it and i did :) thank you

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thecindercrow · 11 months

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Roll20 - D&D Chaos 2 "They open the itinerary and go, 'But that means--!' And you hard cut to some doctor just getting stabbed a thousand times."

#aabria iyengar #freddie wong #brennan lee mulligan #roll20 #my gifs #my stuff #long post #dimension 20 #dungeons and daddies #I feel a smidge bad using those tags but I feel like dndads fans might appreciate seeing freddie wong here #anyway this whole oneshot is a lot of fun #it came out like a year ago and I'd always meant to do something like this and now I'm finally getting around to it #inspired by freddie being in the next season of D20 lol

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animestsstuff2 · 1 month

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Bakugou boyfriend headcannons

I had this idea of headcannons but as you read they progress with his character development during the seasons. Its most likely been done but i thought it would be cool, especially since the Bakugou I write about in Dragons beauty is based more from his development than the first few seasons!

—————————————————————————————————————

Bakugou, who was actually the first person you met at U.A and immediately hated after he shoved you out of the way yelling “get out of my way you damn extra!”

Bakugou, who in every class got on your nerves with his stinking attitude, huge ego and bullying of other classmates, especially Izuku who became your friend on day one

Bakugou, who saved your life during the U.S.J attack, grabbing you from Shigaraki’s grasp and pulling you into him. His excuse was he needed a clear shot to blast Kurogiri and you were the perfect distraction since according to Bakugou “yeah, you were just in the way like usual, hadda move ya”

Bakugou, who rolled his eyes at your thank you gift of baked chocolate chip cookies, only taking them after Kirishima berated him that it would be unmanly not to. As if Bakugou cares..he ate the cookies, cleaned the container and hand delivered it to you along with a small thank you scribbled on a note.

Bakugou, who again saved your life during the attack on the summer camp training, pushing you out of the way of Dabi’s flames and in turn getting captured. Your eyes never leaving his as he was taken.

Bakugou, who after being rescued by All Might and moved into the dorms with everyone else can’t sleep and finds you in the living room feeling the same. You ask him why he is awake and he shoots it back at you, sitting down with you. You talk and he listens, eyes never leaving yours until yours slowly draw close and having not noticed how close he moved till your head rested on his shoulders and he pulled a blanket over you both.

CrushBakugou, who after waking up with you on the sofa was red in the face and grumbling, trying to carefully slip your body off his chest and leave only for you to stir and him going still as some early riser classmates drift into the kitchen. Kirishima of course grinning at his friend who has obviously been crushing on you since those cookies.

Boyfriend Bakugou who is proud you gained your hero license. A small smile on his face as you bounced on your heels in front of him as you proudly showed your card off, forgetting that he didn’t gain his.

Boyfriend Bakugou who brings your favourite home cooked meals to your study sessions in the your dorm. Bakugou who stays up explaining things to you to make sure you get top results to you get scouted by a good hero.

Boyfriend Bakugou who watches you sleep, brushing the hair from your face and pulling you tighter into his arms, content to have some form of comfort to ease him, loving when after training all week you massage his sore back and muscles, always putting extra moisturiser on his calloused hands.

#bakugou katsuki #my hero academia #bakugou x reader #kirishima eijirou #mha #all might #aizawa shouta #bnha deku #ochako uraraka #headcanon #mina ashido #izuku midoriya #oneshot

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s1lver1nk · 3 months

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ok ok ok HEAR ME OUT--

Vox x Reader, but before Vox became an Overlord.

Because I don't think I've EVER seen this done and it has SO much potential, I'm rattling the bars of my cage I!!! Love this so much!!!

Vox before he's built his entertainment empire, before he's sleek and flat-screened and always in control.

Vox when he still had his old-school TV head, when he had to do all sorts of odd jobs to scrape by and kiss ass to all the right people to get where he wanted to go. Plotting and planning in what little free time he had for what would eventually become VoxTek.

Meeting you during this period of his afterlife, what he now considers to be his rock bottom. Going from a mutually beneficial partnership to friendship to love. An "Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close?" kind of love. An "Everything I do, I do for you" kind of love. I'm going feral just thinking about it. Growing together, lifting each other up, supporting each other through every high and low, even the less ethical bits, because hey, you're in Hell and sometimes you have to get your hands dirty to get what you want. Seeing each other for the other's flaws and loving and working through it all.

Watching Vox rise to the standing of Overlord with pride and love at how far you both have come, but trepidation at how rapidly things begin to change from then on. The way that relationship evolves and changes with newfound fame and status and social standing. Schedules and meetings and social events dictate every moment of your days, but still finding time for one another in the midst of the chaos your world has become.

And this would mean being around for the rise and fall of Vox's and Alastor's friendship, too!! Becoming friends with Alastor yourself, enjoying his company and his counsel, feeling just as hurt and betrayed as Vox when he refuses to modernize and join your team. (As of now, that's what I theorize happened anyway~) Meeting Velvette and Valentino for the first time, and the Vees officially form, taking Pride City's entertainment district by storm. And although you're not part of that trio (because it would be too dangerous, it would put too much attention on you), Vox makes sure you never forget the role you've played in his success, that you continue to play with your love and support, and that matters more than anything.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #vox #vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel headcanons #vox headcanons #THE POTENTIALLLLLL #Should I write some lil oneshots??#Mayhaps with a fallen angel!reader because that shit's my JAM #I just might!! 👀

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rosemaryshelluverse · 4 months

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𝚂𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚎 𝚀𝚞𝚎𝚎𝚗

|| synopsis: Husker is an old man and I love him your honor ||

|| word count: 313 ||

[ cw: established relationship, fluff, husker x reader ]

"Now, what in the fuck were you trying to say here?" Husker asked, a clear annoyance on his face as he pointed to a text you had sent him earlier that day.

' Cnt w41t t0 z33 y0u 14t3r, 10v3 !! 0_o!! '

"Oh! I said I couldn't wait to see you, love." You say with a 'matter-of-fact' tone to your voice. Tonight was one of the more rare nights that Husker had been able to treat you to a drink outside of the hotel. And while you ordered some bright and colorful drink he hadn't even heard of, he ordered an old fashioned. Really said something about your relationship status.

"You could just talk like a normal fuckin' person, y'know that right?" He grumped, though said it with a smile to ward off any actual negativity from his face. One of his large wings had stretched out and pulled your body closer to him. While he was sat at the bar, you opted to stand, founding it made it much better for when you started to get sloppy. No need to struggle to stand if you never sit! You had a, sure interesting way of thinking. It's what drew Husker to you in the first place. You were like a breath of fresh air to him, a little fucker though.

A little laugh left your lips as you faced him now, his paws finding their way on your very exposed hips. "I know I could, but where's the fun in that? Besides, it couldn't hurt you to text me, like, at all." Your hands moved away from your drink which he kept a watchful eye on while you weren't actively attending to it. " 'Sides, I know you love me too much to really be upset with me." You hum out and smooth back his fur, leaning down and placing a gentle kiss on his nose.

[ @m4riad1ary here u are pooks(/p) sorry its so short </3333 }

|| note: 🇮🇫 🇾🇴🇺 🇱🇮🇰🇪 🇲🇾 🇨🇴🇳🇹🇪🇳🇹, 🇧🇪 🇸🇺🇷🇪 🇹🇴 🇱🇮🇰🇪 🇦🇳🇩 🇷🇪🇧🇱🇴🇬!! <3 ||

#husker hazbin hotel #husker x reader #husker x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #oneshot #drabble #i love this i might make other scenes (pun) of these two lol #rosemaryfollows

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frickingnerd · 10 months

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i'd stop the world for you

pairing: toshinori yagi / all might x gn!reader

summary: the pro hero number one, all might, confesses to you and you're a little startled...

"you… love me?"

you looked up surprised at the number one hero. he was smiling at you with that famous 'i am here' smile and you couldn't tell if he was being serious with you. then again, would japan's number one hero really pull a prank like that on one of his colleagues?

"i do! that's why i said it"

he kept smiling at you, his lips not even twitching for a second. he almost looked like an action figure instead of a real person, standing still and staring at you.

"why me..?"

for the first time, he stopped smiling. just for a short moment. he looked at you softly, before resting a hand on your shoulder and smiling again. only this time, he looked much more sincere. it wasn't that smile he gave the press when he came to someone's rescue. that smile belonged to toshinori yagi, the person behind the title of japan's number one.

"why not you?"

you chuckled amused.

"if you're asking because i could have anyone as the number one hero, then that's my reply" he paused. "but if you truly don't see what's so special about you, then let me tell you that you are the person i trust most. you are not just my ally but my friend. i don't have to pretend when i'm around you. and i know that you like me for myself and not my title"

you looked up at him, eyes widening as he spoke. that's how he viewed your relationship? you were honored and relieved to hear how much he liked and trusted you.

"in that case, it would only be fair to let you know that i feel the same way about you too, toshi…"

your heart was beating faster as you smiled at the blonde man in front of you.

"i love you too..!"

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hyunsvngs · 7 months

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Okay wait hear me out okay.... fem!skz except chan. P P P PUSSYFEST??? bonus if theyre ur best friends and channie is ur bf... IM GONE B

lemi i have another concept.

WHAT IF chan's best friends with them all and channie is your bf. you're a little insecure because like.. what type of guy has seven female best friends right? until he tells you no, baby, they all prefer girls, and suddenly your perspective shifts. you end up getting closer to them than you intended to, and when chan proposes the idea of you having a little fun with all of them you honestly feel like you could cum without taking your panties off.

and you do, feeling cute innie's pussy grinding into yours through both of your panties. her panties are cute, pink satin, drenched with her slick and almost falling off of her hipbones with the fervence she's grinding at. you can see the beginning of the smattering of her pubic hair through your hazy eyes. you thought she'd be the innocent one, but god, she might be the worst, with that blissed out grin on her lips and her long, dark hair swept over one shoulder to expose her cute, perky tits. it's not long before you're cumming, soaking the fabric with a loud keen while she fucking talks you through it - "that's it, baby. cum all over my panties, that's it, all messy. messy girl."

when she's done with you, seungmin is a force to be reckoned with. you could've guessed that, really. your boyfriend chuckles in anticipation once seungie gets you in bed, forcing your legs to spread open and - oh. she's got this massive strap on beneath her black pleated skirt, bright pink and glaringly obviously going to be inside you very soon, and you can't wait. it's obvious you can't wait, and seungmin can't help herself, quipping "my dick must be bigger than yours, old man," and making chan groan in (faux) distain when she slides the whole thing inside of you. seungmin's hips are wild, but practiced, and she covers your mouth to silence your wails and even slaps you about a little. it drives you insane.

lixie is a little sweeter with you. she lets you finally take your time with one of the girls, letting you slide the straps of her white lace bralette off of her narrow shoulders and trace your lips down the freckles dotted across her chest. her tits are small, perky, and she coos cutely when you wrap your lips around a dusky nipple. she asks you if you'd like to try and eat her pussy, and of course you do. chan's more vocal when you're with lixie, instructing you on how to kiss her - you know she's one of the ones he's closest with, the australia connection bounding them close beyond means. when you get your head between her legs you find out she cums quicker than you did with jeongin, and it makes you feel a little better.

chan finally gets on the bed when you start making out with jisung. you sense they might have a connection, too, and it makes your pussy even wetter. she's messy when she kisses, spit and teeth and whining and wailing into your mouth. her jeans are baggy on her tiny waist and you can't help yourself from sliding your hands down them, tracing your fingers over her already soaking pussy, over her wiry pubic hair and making her keen. her hair is short, bobbed and wavy around her cute round cheeks and you feel a way you've never felt before - you want to ruin her. from the way minho is looking at you both, she wants to ruin her too.

chan has you with your back to his chest for hyunjin. it turns out hyunjin likes to take her time too, and you let her open you up with her fingers before she even gets her mouth on your clit. her hair is short and choppy, like lixie's, except dyed black and ever so soft between your fingers. hyunjin instructs chan to touch your nipples while she eats you out - it's the first time one of them has gotten chan involved, and it makes you hurtle towards your orgasm a lot quicker than you intended. her long legs splay out behind her as she buries her face in your folds, feet kicking in her cute frilly socks, moaning and groaning like you're the best thing she's ever tasted.

for changbin, you're just so fucking happy to be there. her tits are huge, nipples dark chocolate and puffy and she lets you suck on them, pulls you into a strong headlock with her bicep and moans nice and pretty for you when you swirl your tongue around her nipple like she's a damn lollipop. she wants to finger you open, wants you to finger her open, but she can't decide what she wants first - you end up splayed on top of her, her thick thighs parted and your head nuzzled into her dark, puffy folds. you sense she might be one that you want to come back to again and again, and you'll never get the image of her kissing chan to share the taste of your pussy with him out of your mind.

jisung's desperate again by the time it comes around to minho's turn. minho is fucking mean, you realise, and you're glad you left her until last. she seems to know exactly what toys to work you up with - a vibrator on your clit, a glass dildo in your pussy, a plug in your ass and all before she's even let you cum once. you fall apart on her strap, eventually, with jisung licking over your clit and making you squirt all over minho's thick thighs. she's a beauty, too - large tits settled on a toned chest, a light pink faded scar on her stomach that you'd love to ask about.

you quickly realise when you're fucking chan after and they're all watching that yeah, you want this to happen again. badly, actually.

#sooooooooooooooo #i'm sorry #i might #make a oneshot #o nthis #love you guys <3 #fem!skz #asks: ot8 #juno’s asks ♡#user: alemi-i #stray kids smut

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jomamaofficial · 2 months

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The Chronicles of A Hero's Daughter pt.2 (Father!All Might and Daughter!Reader Angst Oneshot)

A/N: SO, THIS WAS ASKED IN MY ASK BOX. BUT I STUPIDLY REPLIED TO IT SO I DON'T KNOW WHICH ANON ASKED FOR IT SO I'M JUST GOING TO TAG EVERYONE WHO LIEKD THAT POST HERE AND HOPE IT'S THE BRILLIANT ANON WHO WANTED ME TO WRITE A PART 2. @dark-magic-phoenix @crystal-freak24 @observaureium @justtovi3w62. As always, my Ask Box is open for any requests or just a conversation. Please remember to take care of yourselves, and enjoy. As always, I would love to see your thoughts in the comments :). TW: Graphic descriptions of blood (coughing blood), graphic imagery of crushing a heart (doesn't happen, just explained) CW: difficult father-daughter dynamics. Taglist: @thatcatladywrites @smikys-stuff @kimberlyfletcher @dawnwriterimagines Masterlist Word Count: 1951. Summary: One argument led to another– the foundation of your family was built upon suffering and sacrifice. Secrets were unveiled, revealing the true intentions of your father, the lingering wounds of the past stinging harder than any cut has ever. With tension reaching a breaking point, what happens when you confront your father, searching for the harsh truth, even if it leads to a devastating decision– you will never be the same again. He will never be the same again.

——————————————————————————————————

Toshinori’s chest rose and fell.

“You don’t mean that…”

A pang struck through your heart as your father’s laboured breaths increased, tailing off in steady wheezes that only grew louder.

“Dad…” you whispered, closing your eyes. “Dad, I didn’t m-”

Your voice cracked, succumbing to the hot tears which burned against your cheeks. Emotions flooded your head, as though they had been waiting to escape from the dam of truth that you had to silence to protect the peace in your family. The pressure had built up and that dam had finally broken in the most irreparable way possible.

Shame hammered your mind, delivering blunt throbs as you watched your dad clutching his frail chest in agony.

Guilt drilled poison into your veins as your father struggled to stand up– his sickly body unable to bear this pressure. His airways had been restricted, thus his once strong and proud chest had nothing to show but a vacant cavity, struggling to hold itself up.

This living room had always been small– enough space just for the two of you. Dad and his little hero. It had always been you two, but today, this room was longer and narrower, as though mocking your sanity which had become a battlefield.

Would you protect your father and carry on living in this dollhouse family, of which the foundations were built off of your suffering.

Or would you protect yourself and destroy your relationship with the only family that you ever had.

The struggle had refused to forsake– silence had become your greatest enemy. It had left you alone with your screaming thoughts of doubt that deafened your conviction, leaving you straggled, naked, and vulnerable in the vast depths of your fears because what if.

What if Midoriya truly was better than you?

What if you truly were not worth it?

What if you had lost your rights to call yourself his daughter.

Forever.

You had lost everything to the ravenous beast which ruined everything you touched, and it wanted more. It wanted more, so it began making more noise, howling over the whispers of the wind, it howled over the ticking of the clock. It howled until nothing could be heard.

Silence.

It had become silent.

As though you were the only person in the room.

A sudden thud drew your attention to the floor.

Toshinori collapsed on the ground, and his eyes had gone blank, jaw slack. His ribs stuck out from under his skin, showing through his thin white t-shirt as his brassy cough filled his mouth with blood.

He urgently covered his mouth with his hands, forcing it shut but to no avail. It had already slipped past his hold, travelling down his neck, staining his shirt. A constant offender.

Your father began developing bloody coughs over three years ago. Yet every time you saw his chest heave and bleed, surges of nausea would creep up your veins, forcing you to leave.

“Dad!”

This was too much blood. It wasn’t meant to be like this… The doctor said a few drops or so, maybe a teaspoon, but that was ‘highly unlikely’. You watched as his white shirt became saturated, dizziness threatening to blur your vision.

But you could not see him like this. You didn’t think twice before rushing to help him– but you were stopped.

Toshinori raised his shaking hand immediately. You were halted, frozen in disbelief.

He put his hand back on the floor, taking a few breaths before pushing himself, warranting another step forward from you, another cry, but he just stopped you again. You could only watch as your father relied on his bony wrists to push himself up.

You could hear his shallow gasps for air, and his repressed coughs– and all you could do was watch your father’s face contort in fatigue and ache. Toshinori had finally gotten up, but that look had not left his face as he pushed past you. You watched the limp in his leg as he hobbled towards the couch, slowly lowering himself onto the cushioned couch. His head slumped onto the head rest, limbs unfurling in exhaustion.

You were suspended in your head, unable to move past the questions which rung bright sirens.

You shouldn’t have raised your voice at your own father– the doctor had told you. He’s injured, he’s getting older. He can’t process such shocks like this anymore.

What was wrong with you?

But it couldn’t have been just your fault… right? But then he pushed you– maybe he didn’t just notice– but what if he did it on pur-

“Y/N”, your father had called for your name, but his eyes did not meet yours.

Instead, they looked past you.

Toshinori Yagi adopted Toshinori Y/N when she was five years old.

A decade after the first quirk was discovered, many adoption agencies in Musutafu began sorting children based off of a ‘ranking system’.

Official documents stated that this case was first brought up in the Supreme Court due to an incident that had occurred in an orphanage near Musutafu, 26 years ago. It was a heartbreaking case of manslaughter that had taken place when six year old Chihiro Onodera– Quirk: Lava, accidentally murdered eight year old Honoka Sugo– Quirk: Bubbles, during lunch time as they were play-fighting.

It did not take much convincing as this case had reached international news, thus the court immediately passed a bill on the separation of quirks preliminary based off of their strength and danger levels, which were to be evaluated on a scale of 1 to 5.

Nevertheless, this bill had struck a controversial match, becoming the largest contemporary topic that was disputed over in the past years.

Demonstrations, protests and violent public outrage reached its peak when leaked intel revealed that a lot of children began to go missing from Adoption Agencies under the radar– they no longer had papers, as if their identities had been erased off of the face of this Earth.

Nanami Tomoda, Sae Ojima, Makoto Kanezaki– these were some of the household names that had garnered petrifying national and international headlines:

Heartbreaking Tragedy Strikes Japan: Devastating Attack Leaves Communities Reeling

Japan in Shock: Deadly Assault Rocks Nation's Sense of Security

Aftermath of Brutal Assault Leaves Nation Grieving Chaos and Carnage

Not much was known about these young adults.

Apart from two things.

First.

They were not independent contractors. All of them could be traced back to some of the very few established, powerful, underground organisations.

And second.

They were all orphans, rated 5, who had been declared missing for ten or more years.

Toshinori Yagi adopted Toshinori Y/N when she was rated 5.

Toshinori Y/N lost her quirk at age ten.

You are rated 0.

Zero.

Toshinori took a deep breath before he spoke.

“I have raised you since you were five years old.” He still did not meet your eyes. “I raised you in hopes that you would become a strong, and powerful young lady.”

He drew a breath in– it was laced in disappointment.

“But why does it feel, as though it has had no influence on you?”

Toshinori shifted both of his arms onto the couch rests, sitting tall.

“One does not become a hero by winning every fight. Not everything is about a hero’s physical strength. A hero is made when they understand that retaliation only makes them the real villain.”

Your father’s voice had deepened, and so did the dreadful pit in your stomach that sunk your resolve.

“A true hero understands that strength lies in the ability to rise above the pain. Because those who focus on what has been lost”, he continued, lips twitching, as a faint, uncontrollable tremor laced his words in indisputable venomous contempt, “are either insane, or desperate for attention they know they will never get.”

Small muscles in your face began to twitch despite the heaviness that had been pulsed through your body, holding it in place, as you just stood there. Your eyes, once red and exposed, had no inhabitant, no focus.

A ghost town.

“A true hero is grateful. And recognises every bit of effort someone else put in order to get them to where they are now.”

His gaunt eyes found yours, casting an unfamiliar chill in your body. They were sunken in, casting his gaze in dark shadows– an abyss impenetrable by light.

“You got your quirk stolen, Y/N. But you cannot get that back anymore. But it’s been years, I expect at least some gratitude considering I did you a favour by adopting you.”

He had left a clot that blocked your heart.

“Because no one else would have wanted you.”

It is always the one closest to you that hurts you the most.

The man you called your father had waited until the last second to take the satisfaction of crushing your heart, flesh against flesh.

Humans evolved to gain resistance and immunity against everything that threatens their survival.

Therefore, living with this man only meant that you had to gain immunity against pain and humiliation, because that was the only thing that could guarantee your survival.

So when you shook off the heaviness in your lid and focused onto your father’s face, you could only lift the corners of your lip.

“If you didn’t want me. Someone else would have adopted me instead. Like you did. No papers, no nothing– I’d slip under the radar, at least I’d still have my quirk, and end up on those headlines.”

“How dare you?” he uttered, face contorted in malice.

“I was five. That’s why you adopted me. Don’t deny it”

Toshinori stiffened, his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. His shoulders, broad and hubris, had become small and meek. You watched him contemplate: his eyes, vindictive and daring, were cast down, hiding amongst the Tatami flooring.

“My child…” he began, his voice softer. “After your quirk had been stolen, I could not risk making you the target again. That’s the reason I don’t come to your events. It’s because you’ll become the target everyone goes for because they know you’re my daughter”.

“They’ll know?” your lips had pressed into a thin line. “Like how Midoriya knew I was your daughter? Like how the media knows?”

In the stifling air, your dry laughter bounced off of the discomfort.

“Don’t act like you aren’t ashamed of me.”

Your face had settled into a stone.

“It’s not about me being a target. It’s about protecting your image.”

“My daughter-”

“You have lost the right to call me your daughter. If I was such a disappointment after my quirk was ripped away from me, why did you keep me? You could have sent me back. Why did you keep me, dad, why did you keep me!”

Those closest to you, leave irreparable wounds.

But there was a reason they were close to you. A reason that subsided in love, care, and hope.

Your crushed heart was surviving on its last breath, waiting to hear something that could revive it.

Toshinori lifted his head again, his eyes flickering behind you.

It locked onto an object that somehow gained more attention than you ever had in your entire life. You risked a look over your shoulder, only to see the picture of your father and Midoriya, smiling–almost mockingly– back at you.

You knew what the answer was going to be.

“I’m beginning to question the same thing.”

A flat-line.

“Well if that’s how you really feel, I have no obligation to stay here anymore.”

You drew your breath in, words suspended at the tip of your tongue.

“I wish you and your student the best of luck, All Might.”

271 notes · View notes

adrinktostopyourthirst · 2 years

Text

Bucky Barnes | One Shot | Following Orders

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Plot: Bucky is always grumpy, so you've resorted to being aggressively bossy. But he will show you what following orders really looks like.

Warnings: 18+. Smut with a plot.

Words: 4,8OO

A sharp hiss comes from the man before you and you clamp your thighs around his ribs tighter to steady him, the air pockets from the storm that make the plane shake and dip through the sky already making it hard enough to finish your sutures on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Would you sit still?” you snap at him and grab his shoulders to pull the open wound closer to you and make it easier to see what you’re doing. In a plane, with minimum light and a diminutive amount of supplies to help your colleague with – a colleague that never manages to ever crack a smile, especially not towards you – your current situation pretty much sucks.

“Would you just let the serum do its job?” he sneers back, but lets you pull him closer anyway as he drops his head back down, his elbows resting on his pulled up knees.

“I think it has proven to not do its job, don’t you think?” you snarl and wind the needle through his flesh again, finding it harder and harder to be careful if he keeps snapping at you like this. But your reasoning seems to shut him up since all you can hear now are small groans from the back of his throat when you tug at the torn skin.

The healing powers the serum usually served Bucky with, have abandoned him and you have a feeling it’s because he has barely slept in the past two weeks and your current mission is an assignment from hell that has lasted longer than any of you anticipated.

Yesterday, a fish hook back at the harbour had made a gnarly gash into the flesh of Bucky’s shoulder and you’d never heard him roar like that before. However, once he saw you, he quickly composed himself and made sure the two of you got out of there and onto the nearest jet. That’s where you got clear instructions from Steve to make it to one of the safe houses on the other side of the world. Why so far away, you had no idea, but you assumed the team had to split up because the intel Steve and Natasha were after gave them information that could harm the entire team.

This whole ordeal seems far from over.

So now you’re stuck on a jet for ten hours with Bucky sitting down between your legs and you situated on one of the crates in the loading space as the jet navigates through the storm on autopilot. It’s been four hours and you had slapped Bucky over the head when you realised that his wound hadn’t started healing yet at all, activating autopilot as you grabbed Bucky by his jacket and dragged him back. You were surprised that in spite of his whining and grumbling, he didn’t use his superstrength to stop you.

You’re confused that the serum could ever even heal a wound like this since you’re sure the tissue was stretched too far. So to prevent infection and improve the self healing, you offered – well… forced – him to let you stitch him up. One glare of yours and Bucky decided not to fight you on it. Besides, he couldn’t bring up the energy anyway, especially not against you.

Bucky is exhausted and the feeling of your warm thighs against his sides as you stitch him up, combined with the rumbling of the plane, almost has him lulled to sleep. After all, a soldier can sleep in any condition. Until of course, a nightmare makes the bliss dissipate.

Finishing up your handiwork, you gently clean the wound once more, making Bucky clasp onto your calves for support, before having it covered with a large bandage.

“You good?” you ask him as you throw the contaminated materials away.

“What the hell do you think?” he grunts and you flick him in the head.

“You’re welcome, you ungrateful dick.”

Bucky lets out a huff as you come to a stand, walking over to the side of the jet and pulling out one of the bunks. Moving over to one of the stocking cabinets, you find a sweater around his size and throw it in his direction.

“Put this on and for everyone’s sake, get some fucking sleep. You’re unbearable to be around,” you order and walk forward again, slipping back into the pilot seat as you check the coordinates again, hoping the storm didn’t mess with your course.

“How are you so aggressive when you’re trying to help?” he grumbles under his breath, not quite low enough or you not to hear. So you turn your head to give him another look and you see him struggling to walk. Quickly coming back to a stand to jump to his side, he almost pushes you off until his vision starts to spin. Gently helping him straighten up and walk over to the bunk, you look up at him.

“Because you won’t let people help you, but you’re surprisingly good at following orders,” you simply answer and help him down onto the bunk, your eyes softening when you watch him wince. “Seriously Bucky, get some sleep. I’ll keep on lookout and I’ll wake you when we’re there.”

Bucky reluctantly agrees and carefully lies down onto the bunk. The softness in your voice almost swept him to sleep without getting situated first, but he puts his trust in you and allows himself to fall asleep soon enough.

…

A gentle stroke over his arm makes his eyes flutter open much more peacefully than he usually wakes up and his eyes meet yours. Your voice is gentle, understanding that he came from the deepest sleep he’s had in a long time.

“We’re here. You want to come inside?” you ask him and he pushes to a sit with a deep grunt, your hands gently helping him up. That’s when Bucky notices a thick layer of multiple blankets slipping down to his hips and the chill coming in from the loading rig that’s descended onto the massive grass field the jet had landed on, the warmth from his sleep chilling his skin.

Bucky slowly assesses his surrounding and nods, “How long have I slept for?”

“The storm derailed us from the course, so you had a few extra hours. I loaded everything into the safehouse and have some food on the stove already. I’d say about eleven hours in total,” you explain as you walk off before putting your hands on your hips and staring him down. “You good to walk, soldier?”

Bucky shakes his head back to reality and nods, pushing off and following you down the rig, towards the cabin at the edge of the full forest surrounding the field.

“You stayed awake for that long?” he asked as he sauntered after you into the cabin.

“Took a short nap myself, just to be sure I could stick the landing without crashing to our deaths.” You shrug and slip your thick jacket off before making your way further into the home, walking up to the stove to check on the simmering food.

“Come here. Need to take a look at the stitches,” you bark your order and turn back to him as he walks over, a deep frown still etched into his face even after the good sleep he had.

“So bossy…” he grumbles and you roll your eyes, forcefully spinning him back around and lifting his sweater up over his shoulder where Bucky’s metal hand catches onto it so you can inspect him.

Removing the bandage, you smile when you see the insane improvement to his skin and open one of the drawers to grab a small knife to cut the stitches with. Gently cutting them and leaving just his flesh to do the rest of the healing, you’re almost sure you can see the skin mending itself.

“I think this might not even leave a scar,” you tell him proudly with a tinge of awe, and he spins around to face you.

“Good. What are we eating?” he asks and peers over the stove.

“Hot air for your rude ass.” You roll your eyes and lift the lid of the pan to stir the soup you had simmering on the stove.

In the beginning, you wouldn’t touch Bucky’s presence with a ten foot pole. The man radiated introversion and pretty much only wanted to talk to Steve. After you saw him snarl and snap at any other colleagues trying, you stayed far away from him, despite your initial intention to make him feel safe and welcome. But Steve saw your professional and withheld response to the whole Bucky situation as the perfect asset to make you both each others’ partner in missions. You wanted to complain – you really did – but you worked exceptionally well together. It turns out, when you don’t talk, you get an awful lot done.

It’s not that you don’t like Bucky, you greatly appreciate him as a colleague. But if he only likes you when you mind your own business, he would be dead. The amount of times you have saved him from himself is too many to count and you gave him a scolding twice as often. Yet all Bucky ever replies with is a huff, a roll of his eyes and turning his back on you as he saunters off to someone who won’t be on his ass all the time.

“Always so mean,” Bucky grumbles and lifts himself to sit on the kitchen counter, cleaning his hand with a cloth he found laying around.

“What can I say? Your endless optimism and happiness just brings out that side of me,” you hum sarcastically and blink harshly a few times to will away the sleep in your body, demanding for you to have a nap, making you unable to see the hint of a smile at the corner of Bucky’s mouth.

Not much later, the two of you finish your soup and you get up to clean the bowls and stuff them away, but Bucky clasps his metal fingers around your arm and stops you.

“Get some sleep. I’ll clean up,” he orders, his voice surprisingly gentle. But you frown at him and shake your head with a shrug, trying to wrench your arm loose from his grip only for it to tighten even more. “Not a request, sweetheart. Sleep, or I’ll knock you out.”

“Resorting to threats now, Barnes?”

“Don’t tempt me. You don’t know where I draw the line.” His warning and narrowed eyes soften on you and it tugs strangely at your chest. “Sleep.”

“So bossy…” Noting the seriousness in his eyes, you know not to fight him on it any longer and you put down the bowls, throwing him one last defeated scowl before making your way over to the couch and curling up on the worn cushions after putting a blanket over it.

The last thing you notice as the weight of sleep presses you into the cushions, is the gentle touch of a duvet being tucked around your snoozing frame.

…

To say it’s disorienting to wake up revitalised in the middle of the night, in a cabin you don’t know, where it’s so dark that you can’t see a hand in front of your face, is an understatement. Your heart thumps loudly in your chest, your pulse having erratically quickened from the mind-numbing sleep it was in mere seconds ago, and your fingers dig into the cushions below you to ground yourself.

Swinging your legs over the side of the couch, you hear a loud grunt and something catches onto your legs, pulling you down. In your sleepy state, you barely get to scream before you’re pinned under a super soldier that looks like he went into fighting mode with his eyes closed, your eyes finally adjusting to the darkness.

“Bucky. It’s me!” you hiss and he squints down at you, taking a second to realise before slowly letting go and flicking on the nearest light, still straddling your hips.

“What the fuck, man…” Bucky groans and rubs his eyes, his voice rough and raspy from sleep. “What are you doing?”

You peer up at him with wide eyes “I just tried getting up. I couldn’t see shit, so your stomach became the ground.”

Slowly climbing off you and resting his back against the couch, he rubs the sleep out of his eyes and heaves a deep sigh.

“Well, that’s my rest gone for the rest of the night…” he grumbles with disappointment and runs a hand through his hair. You come up to a sitting position as well and make a noise in agreement.

“No. You’re going back to sleep.”

Your head snaps to him, “Excuse me?”

“Sleep.”

“What. Or you’ll knock me out?” you scoff as you rub your eyes.

“Don’t believe me?” His eyes are on you now and you tense before slowly turning to face him again.

“You are not going to knock me out!” You think. Right? “You’re not going to punch me, Barnes!”

He lets out a low laugh that skitters down your spine and your brows pull together. “I don’t have to punch you to knock you out. There are plenty of other ways.”

Your sleepy brain has a hard time catching on, before your eyes widen and you let out a noise of disgust. And your heart starts to pound harder at the wild insinuation. Why your heartbeat drops to between your legs, is something you ignore for the time being.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you scoff, if only to distract his senses from the heat radiating off your face, “you can’t fuck a woman to sleep.”

He leans in and you are on the edge of knocking him out, but his breath on your skin halts you. “You have any idea of the perks of being a super soldier?”

His voice, that deep fucking voice and the gravel in it, makes you gulp, your eyes fluttering against all your inner protests. Your fingers curl on top of your bent knees and you quickly scramble away, up to a stand. Bucky laughs up at you and shrugs, standing up himself.

But that’s it. You don’t move.

You stay quiet. Contemplating. Like only now his words sink past your skin and into your system, which heavily responds to the idea of Bucky.

Bucky fucking you. So hard and deep that you can’t help but cry out, but sob for more. You crave the satisfaction of sleep after a good, thorough pounding. And by someone who is strong and firm and has a filthy mouth. Someone you have no other attachment to. Someone you know answers perfectly to you, as proven by the many missions that showed the two of you working in such synchronised manor, it almost scared you at first.

Bucky cocks his head, “Is that what you need?”

You catapult out of your thoughts and quickly look at him again, “What?”

A smirk. “You need me to fuck you to sleep, sweetheart?”

Fuck. That is a bit direct. And if it doesn’t make you almost drool.

“Don’t say stuff like that,” you whisper breathlessly. It sounds like a plea and round eyes look at him like it is.

A plea.

But not for him to stop.

“Why?” He takes a step closer to you, his eyes darting between yours. “What does it do?”

You roll your eyes and his flesh hand raises to cup your face. His long fingers tangle into the side of your hair and his thumb tips your jaw up to tilt your head towards his gaze.

“Use your words. What does it do?” he rasps, taking another step closer until he breathes your air, leaving you with none, it seems.

“It–” you struggle to find the words. What he does to you. He makes your blood turn hot and your skin prickle with cold. He makes excitement flutter in your belly, but it might be anger – indignation at his wild behaviour towards you.

“Not so talkative now, are you?” he croons and you grit your teeth at his incessant teasing. “Or are you waiting for me to take it from you? Make you sing instead?”

Yes.

“Make you cry out for me?” he smirks. “Or maybe just make you cry? Make you beg for it – for me. You’d be such a pretty sight with tears in your eyes.”

Your head buzzes and you don’t know whether he is complimenting you or dragging you through the mud. It feels so similar and it has your heart pounding and slick coating the fabric of your panties. You try to say his name, but no sound comes out.

Bucky understands, however, the moving of your lips, and wants to bite them. Those lips. Suck on them, have them tremble.

After all that disgusting distance between the two of you from the beginning, it would be deeply satisfying for him to tear you apart like that. Have you cry out for more of him. He would take his sweet, sweet time, too. If he can control himself, that is. But he wants to take his time – mess you up real good. Have you despise that distance between you two in the future, like he has always despised that distance.

The silence between the two of you is deafening and it makes you want to squirm. Closer or far away, you don’t know.

Bucky doesn’t feel like Bucky anymore. He feels like the devil taunting you with your deepest desire. But it’s him. He’s your desire. And you can’t tell if it has always been there or if he’s manipulating you into it. He could, you know he could. But you are starting to care less, the more he looks at you. You want him, need him. Your bones are crying out for him and you want to vocalise it.

You want him to drag it out of you, those cries and that horrible, terrible need.

You imagine it. His fingers, two of them, curled inside of you. And a drag. A curl. Another drag. Tearing out your soul, one moan at a time, as he peels that pleasure to the surface.

When the quiet between you becomes unbearable, you dare to nod, give him permission. But the thought of a nod crosses your eyes and Bucky drags your mouth to his before you can give your confirmation. It is hungry, but hesitant. His soft lips and his rough fingers curling against your scalp has you whimper softly, giving him permission with your pleasure. And he unleashes himself, groaning as his other hand drags your head even closer to him.

He nips and sucks and bites at your lips, not giving you any space to venture into the kiss yourself. But you whine softly and he complies by stroking his tongue into your mouth, tangling with yours as he pulls your body up against his. Your knees are weak and your hands clasp desperately at his forearms to make sure you don’t float away, away from him. From his promising kiss for more.

The ache between your legs is near painful and you squirm on your shaky legs, needing relief desperately. But you don’t want his mouth to stop doing that. Stop kissing you, Abusing your mouth with his own. Desperate, claiming, slow, aggressive – selfish almost.

“Fuck me to sleep, Bucky.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

…

“Ah–” you rasp, squeezing your eyes closed as pain, whining pain, pulsates through your core and thighs. Your limbs are trembling and your bare skin is covered in sweat. Your arms are aching from the stretch above your head and the grip Bucky has on your wrists feels like a faint bruise.

But you haven’t come yet.

His deft fingers do nothing more than graze over your clit and you shudder, the touch agonising. He’s been at this for what feels like hours – rubbing, stroking, circling, taunting – and you feel like you are going insane.

His deep voice growls lowly against your ear, “You want to come.”

A small part of you wants to slap him for that obvious statement, but that part of you is so small, so faint, you barely know her anymore. No, that other remaining part of you lets out a wanton whine. Pathetic. Completely desperate for anything. Your mouth opens to plead, but nothing else comes out than ragged breaths, your sweaty chest rising and falling as that sweet relief is withheld from you.

“You see,” Bucky whispers, his muscular body only in boxers now, and another press of his finger to your clit has you writhe and forget that he was talking to you in the first place, “I agree with you that I respond better to orders. But I have found myself to be better at giving them. Orders – And orgasms for that matter.”

You groan.

“But you wouldn’t know that,” he continues, “since you haven’t come yet, have you?”

Heaving a deep breath, you don’t deign to give him an answer.

“I think I want the first time you come for me to be on my tongue– ” he muses and your eyes fly open. “It’d be a shame if you passed out after the first one though. You have to stay awake for me, okay? I’m not done with you yet… Wouldn’t that be cruel – to just be done with you now?”

That drags you out of your stupor and you give him the biggest eyes you can muster, the most pathetic plea you can will into your body, “Please!”

“So polite,” he hums and presses a gentle kiss below your ear. But he decides he wants more and drags his open mouth over the skin of your neck, his tongue lashing over the heated skin before sinking his teeth into it. You sigh softly, as it seems any of his touches are a relief to the endless deprivation of him.

His mouth encircles your breast, the warmth making goosebumps prickle at your skin as your nipples stiffen. Bucky hums against your skin, his tongue circling around the taut bud before giving a playful bite to the soft flesh. His mouth dances further down and his hand slips from your wrists, his palm stroking down your arm and chest to follow his mouth. You know better than to move, your fingers digging into the pillow below your head instead. Focusing on your breathing, you try to get through the ache between your hips, that desperate throbbing for the man descending your body.

Both his palms press against the inside of your thighs and press them apart, the stretch in your muscles making you arch your back. You dare to look down and your jaw drops at the sight of his dark, ravenous eyes on your cunt. His hands holding you open like it’s nothing, like they are pressing to the table his meal is on.

It takes ages, his examination of your pleasure, and your hole pulsates in answer to his stare. Your breathing hurts from heaving the thick air and you can’t take it anymore. One hand reaches down and combs through Bucky’s full hair, through his locks and cupping his face. His eyes dart up to yours and you hold back from frowning at the daze he sprung out of.

“Bucky…” you breathe, a soft question for him to give you what you need. What you want.

He nuzzles into your palm with a grin and locks his again darkened gaze onto yours, before leaning down so agonisingly slowly. But a firework as large as the galaxy springs apart when his warm lips wrap around your clit and you could mistake it for an orgasm, only to find out that when Bucky sucks your clit into his mouth, you know for a fact a deadly orgasm is well on its way to shred you to pieces.

He hums lovingly against you and you let out a raspy moan. Your thighs get pushed to the mattress as Bucky wetly suckles at you, your chest rising quickly now as your orgasm crawls higher and higher in your body. And just when you think you’re there, Bucky retreats and drags his tongue between your folds, lapping up your slick from the source.

A strangled whine slips from your lips and Bucky groans in agreement, “Fuck, I know. But I haven’t tasted you yet. Let me just– ”

Another drag of his tongue has your shivering and your hand curls into a tight fist with his hair between it. He hums in delight at the tug at his scalp and buries his face deeper into your cunt, breathing harshly as he struggles to combine it with eating you whole. But the sounds alone, get you closer and closer and– “Bucky!”

“Go,” he hums against you, almost hurried. “Come on my tongue.”

An order indeed.

Body curling, your orgasm barrels into you like an avalanche. Endless weight presses on your nerves and you sob and moan and cry out, twitching against Bucky as his arms slip around your thighs to hold you to his mouth. Drinking your orgasm up and grinding his own hips into the mattress, Bucky devours the feeling of having you come under him. He had been teasing himself, never mind you. He wanted it to last, wanted you more pliant and bendy before he allowed you to come.

He crawls up your body, but you barely notice it, your orgasm still haunting you, racking through your spine and turning your blood to syrup. Bucky takes advantage of your open mouth and licks into it, teasing, smiling, taunting. For you to respond to him, prove him you’re still there.

So you move, languidly dragging your mouth against his as you tangle your hand into his hair again, pulling him closer. He groans into your mouth and a feeling of triumph swells in your chest at the way Bucky’s body melts to your side. Though the deception of his surrender might have been a distraction when you suddenly feel two fingers press into you, instantly curling against a swollen wall inside of you that has you gasp against his lips.

“Oh, fuck!” you moan and Bucky chuckles deeply above you, his fingers retreating before pressing into you again. His thumb teasingly darts over your swollen clit and lightning strikes your every nerve.

“You think too lowly of yourself to think I would be done with you,” Bucky rumbles, his lips moving against the flushed skin of your cheek, your eyes having closed in overwhelming pleasure. His fingers move faster and twist into you, opening you up. Then then slow again, teasing – endlessly teasing. Then faster. Slower.

Unpredictable – and your body cannot keep up as it hauls you closer to your high before retreating like it burned itself. But to burn yourself on the devil – on Bucky. What a delight. You sigh deeply and let the bed swallow you whole as you buck up against Bucky’s hand. He presses soft kisses to your cheek, mumbling to you that you’re almost there and you have to let him make you come again.

“More,” you breathe out. “More, more, more…”

He obliges and presses into your spot so well, his thumb dragging two firm circles over your clit at the same time and you burn alive. You arch like a string pulls you to the ceiling as Bucky’s fingers fuck you through a numbing orgasm. From your crown, all the way down to your toes, fire bursts and surges and implodes. Your moans sound attractive to your own ears as you come, your voice breaking and filled with breaths, crying out to the heavens that the devil made you come again.

And the haze clears, the fog lifting as your eyes open to watch a heady Bucky lick appreciatively at his fingers, the gleam on them reflecting the minimum amount of light in the bedroom. Your hand slides from his hair to his chest and you press him to the mattress, his own eyes widening as you crawl over him.

You straddle his waist, hissing as your bare pussy settles over his angry, hard cock. The fabric is rough to your skin, but you can only focus on his face.

Bucky leans up on his forearms and raises an eyebrow at you. “I don’t think so– ”

“Oh yes. You are going to let me use you and then,” you smirk, “you can make me pass out. Since you have failed to do so thus far…”

A slow smile spreads over his face, “So bossy…”

You answer with a grin and a slow grind over his weeping cock, making him stutter under you, “Let’s see how well you follow orders now, Mr. Barnes.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

#its 1am #i miss you guys #i feel like u can tell which books ive been reading this summer #my writing might have changed quite a bit #BUT I WROTE YOU GUYS #isnt it amazing??#Alright as always pls let me know what you think??#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #writing #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes oneshot #oneshot #e to l

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junosmindpalace · 7 days

Text

Kento needs something good in his life.

For most of his life he was fairly indifferent to a lot of things, his face often, if not always, chilled or some kind of annoyed. This seemed to be on the surface, perhaps, but Kento found pleasure within and among many things. Sakura trees, baked goods, the feeling of warm sand beneath his feet and cool ocean water washing it away.

They're the little things, even just thoughts of them, that keep Kento moving through this god awful world. As he gets older, goodness is found in even more trivial things, because with age also comes additional burden and various disappointment. Restock of a favorite product. Flowers in bloom. Small things that bring colour into a life that very frequently threatens to drain it all until he only knows to identify shades of grey and black.

The withering of leaves and flowers hanging onto dying branches amidst chilling winds, threatening to leave them completely bare, is when Kento is reminded more than ever that he needs you. He needs something good, something to work toward. Something to come home to. Something pleasant to fall asleep to. Something beyond material means to motivate him.

His work, in theory, serves him well enough. Pays him well enough if he sacrifices enough of his physical and mental strength to commit to working with difficult people and staring at a blue light that drains his energy almost as much as the routine of it all itself. In the end, he gets a paycheck, and that's what matters.

But truly, it makes Kento a little sick when he thinks that just can't be all life is. Meant to constantly choose which is the more daunting path. Meant to rot at some miserable desk around miserable people in a world that thrives off misery. When the leaves wither and gain spots, when the baked goods don't taste right, when even the thought of a satisfying future isn't enough to push out the nauseating images of curses, he needs something constant. He needs a good thing. He needs you.

You need something good in your life.

Beyond academics, beyond a 9/5, beyond completely busy and hectic days where, by the end, you struggle to remember half of it. Something besides validation from others, besides the constant need to catch up.

A rest would be good, perhaps. A rest from your responsibilities, a rest from the nonsense and vileness that spouts out of people's mouths on the daily, from the streets to your work to the bubbles on your phone. A rest to remind you that in this world, there was still something worth going on for. Something that made all the work worth it. That there was still time to do you, to be with someone who appreciated you. You need something good in your life.

And you've had something good, both of you: you've had each other. For quite some time.

Neither of you would've been able to predict that your futures would intertwine in such a personal and intimate way. Neither of you would've been able to predict from your high school years that you'd steadily fall in love with each other over trauma bonds and shop run-ins and whatever else there was. Neither of you would've fathomed sharing a home together, a small one, but yours, nonetheless.

Never would you both think that the good thing would consist of each other.

But it's been good. It's been grounding, it's helped you retain some semblance of identity and hope in a world that seems adamant on stripping it from you. Besides late-night conversations about bad memories and the heaviness of the world, there were joint cooking sessions. There were silly debates about nonsensical topics. There was reading together. There was indulging in each other's hobbies, when time made room for them. There were attempts at movie marathons: such as the one you were attempting tonight.

It usually never worked out because often you and Kento both came home exhausted from work, but sometimes a shower, a light dinner and a change of comfortable clothes was enough to wake you both just enough to want to spend the remainder of your energy together. So, you agree on trying a movie you've wanted to see for a while, making yourselves comfortable with blankets and pillows.

Your legs are sprawled over his lap, hugging a cushion pillow close to you as the arm of the couch supports your back. Nanami's slouched and still with his arms crossed over his chest. They'll occasionally come down to settle on your knees. It's a little after midnight, the only light resonating throughout your living room being the blue light from the television. The more time that passes, the more Kento becomes aware of the power it has over his senses, lulling him in and out of sleep. When he tilts his head against the cushion toward you, he can see from the crescents in your eyes that the effect was the same.

"Hey," he mutters quietly, gently nudging your side. "Don't doze off on me, now."

You object with a groan as you sit up against the cushion, lulling your head to look up at him. "M'not."

"Didn't look like it."

"Oh, don't start. I saw your eyes close."

"And you thought that'd save you?"

"Maybe."

Kento has never, but especially not since high school, believed that anything has any real permanence to it, besides maybe death. Everything is fleeting. Life is fleeting, he sees it in the shrivelled lines and drained colored from plants through the changing seasons as well as in the creases of skin and unusual paleness of corpses from the morgue. Routine is not always consistent, it's reminded when he's forced to work overtime, to take a detour to a location, when he falls behind some sort of schedule.

But when he looks over at you, takes in the small smile on your lips, the glow on your skin from the TV lights, he thinks of how badly he wants this good thing to last. Even though it's selfish, even though there was no guarantee that it would no matter the thought of a ring on your finger, there was something in him that wanted it anyway.

The only thing that holds him back from letting the question fall from his lips is the guilt he’d feel for not being more thoughtful in the gesture. No ring, no nice day spent together. Truly, he’d resent himself if he were to propose to you in such an undeserving, unaffectionate and unromantic way. But when he watches you with his head lolled to the side, your own eyes cheerfully boring into his as you sit in the dead of the night trying to enjoy some semblance of peace in your togetherness, he wants so badly to just say it:

Marry me. Let’s have something good.

You know, for good.

He holds his tongue though, and instead gives you a smile of his own, a small but meaningful curve of his lips. The TV light illuminates the sides of your faces, and soon enough the blue light and dialogue will lull you to sleep, and you’ll both abandon your movie session in favor of some much-needed rest. So he stands up from the couch before it could get to that point, letting your legs gently swing to the side to accommodates the sit up. He turns toward you, and offers both of his hands out. "Come on. Let's go to bed."

You whine in protest. "But the movie..."

"We'll finish it another time, promise. I have a day off, soon."

"Really?" A quiet gasp escapes you, and your smile gradually widens as you take hold of his hands as he aids in pulling you up and leading you down the hall.

"Next week, I'm pretty sure. We can do something."

"Not spending the whole day in bed."

"Awfully tempting."

He has a good thing, Kento thinks as you swat his chest, but he doesn't move his hand from your lower back to block at all. He has a goddamn good thing, he thinks when your chuckles break the silence within your home, and through the good, bad, and ugliness of it all, it'll be something that keeps some order and hope in his life.

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struniolos · 6 months

Text

wish you were sober! pt. 2

“save me 'til the party is over.”

chris sturniolo x fem! reader.

synopsis: when reader is overwhelmed at a party & finds herself in unlikely company. (no fame au.) this is the second part, you can find the first part here.

warnings: smut, literally pure filth. minors do not interact. also unprotected sex, don’t try this at home kids! don’t be silly wrap your willy!

the music in the background becomes a soft lull of bass, as your ears almost completely tune it out. you fully let yourself transport into another world. your lips move in tandem with chris’ as your hand snakes up his shirt to feel his warm skin, your fingers tangled in loops of his soft hair. he’s breathing heavier now, puffing hot air into your lungs. you breathe him in, sucking his tongue and moaning as you feel him snake a hand to your butt, gripping it hard.

you find yourself unable to possibly get any closer to him, wanting to jump out of your skin into his if it was possible. your cheeks are burning, the cool breeze wafting through the slightly cracked window not seeming to help. his hips start to slowly roll into you, both his hands now coming up to cup your cheeks as he kisses you deep.

“i want to taste you.” chris whispers into your mouth between kisses, your foreheads bumping together.

you feel your pussy throb at the thought of him devouring you, his head between your legs. you nod, biting your lips as you help him hoist you up onto the bench top, your back leaning against the mirror. his eyes were a darker blue than you remember, swirling with lust. chris pushes your skirt up, revealing your panties that constricted your soaked pussy. a wet patch lay at your folds, and you feel a flush of shame wash over your body, and you cover your face with your hands.

“don’t be embarrassed.” he tells you, “it’s actually kinda hot.”

“oh.” you grin, lowering your hands.

“can i?” he asks, running his palms up your thighs.

you nod. “please.”

chris pulls your panties down to your ankles, and pushes your legs apart softly. you feel so exposed, the air coming in contact with your sex making you shudder. he begins peppering kisses over your inner thighs and pelvis, everywhere but where you needed him. you squirm impatiently, and he raises an eyebrow.

“relax.” he says softly, as he runs a finger down your folds to collect your slick.

seemingly testing the waters, he flattens his hot tongue against your pussy, licking a long stripe. you throw your head back against the mirror, letting out a pathetic whimper. chris uses his thumbs to pry you open, nuzzling his nose to your clit as he begins his assault on your starved pussy.

he was encased in your legs, his arms looped under your thighs and coming around to hold your lower stomach. one hand began to rub your sensitive bud in slow circles while the other held you open for him to dive his tongue in and out of your opening. you swear you saw stars, as he tongue fucked you. he dipped it in and out, collecting your juices and muffling his moans. you were a mess, moaning and squirming in his arms. his hand on your lower belly held you in place, as his finger left your clit and sunk into your walls.

“oh god!” you yelp, your hand quickly gripping onto a tuft of his hair.

chris pushed your thighs up so that they pressed against your stomach, folding you in half. he pumped his finger in and out of your leaking hole as he nuzzles his face into your pussy. you whimper and cry as his pace is relentless, feeling your orgasm building up in your lower stomach. you were embarrassed at how quickly you were going to finish, but you couldn’t help it, the way he had managed to work you up in such little time amazed you.

“chris i’m- oh!” you cry, feeling yourself convulse around his fingers as he helps you ride out the wave of your orgasm. your legs quiver in his grip, as he gives your pussy one last lick, soaking up your wetness.

as chris lowers your legs back down gently, you meet eye to eye with him. he swallows as he catches his breath, his hair mussed and lips glossy and puffed. you pull him in for a deep kiss, not caring that you could taste yourself on his tongue. he tosses his shirt off in one swift movement, and you quickly do the same- only leaving you in a bra and your skirt. he palmed your breasts, his whole hand encasing each one as he squeezed. you wrapped your arms around his neck tightly, unsure if you were able to possibly pull him any closer.

you begin to palm his crotch, feeling his rock hard heat, but he stops you.

“you don’t have to.” he tells you breathlessly, his hands swiping down your cheeks to rest on your neck, his thumps at your lips.

you kiss the pads of them, “i want to.”

his tongue wets his lips, a devilishly handsome smirk adoring his face. no other words were needed. you take his thumb into your mouth, letting it rest on your hot tongue as you suck it briefly before letting go with a pop. chris’ eyes are fixed on you, mesmerised. he wastes no time in assisting you to undo and pull down his shorts, both of your hands fumbling together desperately. his shorts pool at his ankles, his cock visibly strained in his boxers.

you bite your lip as you feel your mouth water at the sight of him. you have never been so turned on in your life. you swap places, so chris leans against the counter, his chest slightly flushed as well as his cheeks and the tips of his ears that are peaking from under his hair. he stares at you with lidded eyes as you kneel, in direct eyeline with his boxers.

quickly and albeit a little awkwardly, you pull his boxers down to his thighs to reveal his weeping cock. it slaps up against his lower stomach, and your eyes go wide. god, he was beautiful everywhere. hesitantly, you grab his cock in your hand, feeling the weight and warmth. your mouth kisses the tip as your eyes look up to lock with his. he hisses, the look in his darkened blue eyes nothing short of pleading.

you slowly sink your mouth down his shaft, try to swallow as much of him as you could. realising just how inexperienced you were, you grabbed with your hand whatever you couldn’t get to. you felt a strange pleasure in the feeling of him hitting the back of your throat as hot tears began to prick your eyes. he breathed out gruffly, his hand running through your hair to push it out of your face. there was nowhere to hide now.

you suck him up and down slowly but deeply, lingering at his tip once you’d get there. you use his precum and your saliva as lube, pistoning your mouth up and down his shaft. you try your best to nuzzle your nose at his lower stomach, swallowing him whole, but you only last a few seconds before having to pull yourself back. you cough, and he lets out a primal groan.

“fuck.” chris groans, throwing his head back. “that felt so good.”

you look up at him, batting your lashes. “you liked that?”

“yeah.” he smiled, running his pointer finger over your jaw and eventually coming to hold your chin. “is it okay if i guide you?”

“mhm.” you hum, grinning wide, knowing it means he wants to use you as a toy and fuck your throat.

wanting to please him, you take a deep breath and open your mouth wider and take as much of him as you can, feeling him hit the back of your throat. he grabs the sides of your head, guiding you up and down his length. his pace quickens, starting to thrust into your mouth as you gargle on your saliva, his cock hitting the back of your throat. you clench your inner thighs together, wetness gathering at your folds.

“fuck, i’m not going to last much longer.” he warns, as he pulls you off of him, saliva running down your chin and dripping to your chest. it was filthy.

“then fuck me already.” you growl, grinning wide and feeling a surge of confidence through your body.

he helps you to your feet, embracing you in a hot kiss full of teeth and tongue. he grabs your hips and hoists you up onto the counter once more, flicking your skirt up. his dick was rock hard, seeping with precum. you pressed your foreheads together, as you wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him in closer.

“i don’t have a condom.” he tells you, as you begin to kiss down his neck.

“i don’t care.” you whisper against bod hot skin, just wanting him inside you already. it pained you to think you had to wait a second longer. he nods, seemingly convinced enough- you imagined his mind was blurred with only thoughts of sex just as yours was.

it was all so out of character for you, so foreign- but it was as if he awoken something deep inside of you that you’d struggle to tame.

you uncoil your bra, freeing your breasts. chris dives down to kiss them, holding them together and bouncing them. you moaned, lolling your head back. he sucked on each, licking and biting your rock hard nipples.

“even better than i imagined.” he says, palming and squeezing them.

“you were thinking about my tits?” you laugh, running a hand through his hair.

“well, yeah.” he chuckled, shrugging.

chris began to line up with your entrance, pumping himself lazily. his eyes locked with yours, biting his swollen lips. “make sure you tell me if anything doesn’t feel good or whatever, okay?”

spoken like a true gentlemen. you laugh at his nonchalant nature. “i will.”

he begins to sink the tip into your tight walls, and you hiss at the pressure. he looks at you worriedly, but you shake your head.

“sorry, it’s um…been a while.” you confess shyly.

chris smiles, ducking his head. “me too.”

relief washes over you, feeling a little less like a loser. he continued to push into you, and the slight pain begins to fade away as pleasure takes over. you leaned your foreheads together, breathing heavily as you adjusted to his size. you could see his freckles now, lightly spattered over his nose and cheeks- you imagined they became more visible in the summer.

you begin to nod, urging him onwards. chris grand your waist gently, not too hard, using it as leverage as he began to thrust in and out of you at a leisurely pace.

your jaw falls slack at the feeling, a guttural moan escaping you. you snake your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer as he continued to thrust into you. you felt like a snake constricting it prey before it killed it. something primal in you was emerging.

“fuck.” chris groaned, his head falling to your shoulder. “you’re so tight.”

his thrusts only became more harsh, his pace not increasing but the roughness. it felt so ridiculous good you thought you’d pass out. your hips snapped together, his fingers digging into the flesh of your waist as he began to grunt at each thrust. you were sure you could get off just from hearing the pretty noises he would make in your ear.

it was passionate, not too tough or greedy- he wasn’t only trying to chase his own pleasure. he began thumbing your clit, and you moaned into his mouth, kissing him deeply. he was inside of you so deep you could feel him in your belly, his balls slapping against you. without notice, he pulled out of you, and you almost cried at the loss of contact.

“i’m gonna turn y’round.” he whispers, giving you a firm kiss before spinning you around. you rested your weight on your forearms, and poked your butt out for him to admire. you could see in the foggy reflection of the mirror the way he was looking at you, and it made your pussy flutter.

you yelped in pleasure as he thrust back into you without warning, bottoming out. he moaned messily as he gripped your waist with one hand and palmed your ass with the other. he began thrusting into your harder now, moaning filthily as his mouth hung open.

“faster, please.” you begged, a crying, sweaty mess.

“okay, pretty girl.” he purred, as he began to pump into you harshly, his pace quickening. he pound into you, your walls tightening around him as you felt your orgasm building once more. he lifted you up so your back was to his chest, bodies flush. he snaked an arm around your neck to hold you in place. chris fucked into you mercilessly, as you whimpered and cried for him to go faster, faster as you watched him fuck you through the mirror.

it was hot and filthy, sweat beading at your forehead and a light sheen covering your body. he thrust into you so hard you could barely speak- all you could do was whimper and cry.

“you look so pretty when you make those noises for me.” he praised, thrusting deep inside of you.

“oh god! i’m coming- fuck!” you cried, as you collapsed back onto your forearms, beginning to see stars once more. white hot light flashed around you, as your body shook rapidly as your orgasm took over. chris fucked you through it, your sensitive walls convulsing around him. you could feel he was about to finish, too.

“fuck.” he groaned, as his hips began to jerk. he quickly pulled himself out of you, and you watched in the mirror as he pumped his come all over your back (and probably your skirt).

you felt the sticky hot liquid coat you, and you smiled in satisfaction. he crept over your body to kiss your sweaty cheek. “let me clean you up.”

chris grabbed a bundle of toilet paper and ran it under the tap briefly. he wiped his mess from your skin, as you were collapsed into a heap against the counter, completely satisfied. like you were a hungry animal that had been a fed.

“sorry i um…i tried.” he laughs, pointing to your back.

“it’s okay, i appreciate the effort.” you smile, turning around to give him a slow, sultry kiss.

you pull apart from each other, now face to face once more, still both completely naked (save your skirt). he looked at you so sweetly, like he hadn’t just done the most filthy, vile things to your body. his hair was a mess, his cheeks and chest still flushed and lips puffy. he wasn’t real, you were convinced.

you both got dressed in silence, the weight of the situation starting to come into affect. you couldn’t believe what you’d done, it was so not like you- to not only hook up with someone at a party but someone like chris sturniolo? it was insane. at highschool you never would’ve thought you’d have a chance with him.

“so um, what now?” chris said, snapping you out of your daydream.

you looked over at him, his singlet sticking to his body and muscles taught and sweaty.

“i guess we go down stairs and act like nothing happened.” you shrug, saddened by the thought but knowing it was what would usually happen in these situations.

“or, we could go somewhere else?” chris suggested, zipping his shorts back up.

your heart fluttered, and you swore you felt it skip two beats. “somewhere else?”

he nods, grabbing your hand. “you could come back to my house, matt wouldn’t mind. the van has plenty of room.”

“okay.” you smile giddily. you couldn’t believe this was happening, there was no way this beautiful man wanted to spend more time with you.

chris tucks a hair behind your ear. “what d’you say?”

“why not.” you shrug, trying to act nonchalant as you thread your fingers through his to hold onto his hand tighter.

you and chris quickly make your way down the stairs, hand in hand, as he drags you through the thick crowd of drunk and high twenty-somethings, the music so loud you could feel it in your throat. never had you felt so alive.

#the ending was so bad omg #might make a part 3 if u guys want?!#not proofread oops #chris sturniolo #sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo edit #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #chris x reader #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo oneshot

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lilgoblinbitch · 2 months

Text

Gossip 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

rick grimes x fem!reader

part two here

a/n: i based this fic on this post here! i might make a part 2 because i have some ideas in the back of my head of how i think this story could end up going eventually, but idk if i will write it yet. we'll see! also i made up the two random alexandrians in this story :)

summary: rick overhears you and some alexandrian women gossiping, and he decides to confront you.

warnings: 18+, alcohol consumption (reader gets drunk).

wc: 1.5k

MDNI

“Spencer does not like me, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You scoffed, taking another sip of the pinot. This was your second glass, and your head was starting to buzz.

Two Alexandrian women became well acquainted with you, offering you a bottle of wine and some dinner after your first week in Alexandria. You decided “why the hell not.” You never really had great friends before the apocalypse and the only ones you had were the group you came in with, so it wouldn’t harm you to make more.

“Oh honey, did you not notice the way he was ogling you at Deanna’s party?” One of them asked — her name was Shannon. The other woman, Vivian, slightly chuckled, taking one last swig from her glass. She nodded, muttering something in agreement.

You sighed. “Even if he was checking me out, it’s not like I care anyway...”

The two women paused simultaneously, looking up at you with ‘bitch, HUH?’ written on their faces. “Y/n, Spencer is a beautiful man! He’s tall, handsome, and he’s around your age I believe,” Vivian gushed. You scowled, displeased at the comment.

You took another gulp from your glass, emptying the contents down your gullet and then setting it on the kitchen island. After licking your lips clean, you said, “Well, frankly, I don't really care if I’m being quite honest.” Your mind swirled with inebriated thoughts; you sort of had a love-hate relationship when it came to alcohol — it either made you perfectly giddy and sociable or very angsty and erratic. But that’s what it did to most people, anyway. Right now, it was making you angsty. “I have someone else on my mind.”

“Oh, my! Okay, who is it?” Shannon asked, her and Vivian both on the edge of their chairs anticipating what you were about to say — well, what they expected you to tell them, that is.

You thought for a moment; should you tell them? It seemed like they lived for that kind of gossip. But that could mean that they might spill your secret, and you weren't exactly ready for that. “I’ll tell you another time. I’m tired, gonna head to bed,” you stated, yawning as you got up from the stool you were seated on. The two women groaned in disappointment, like children who failed to convince their parents to take them to disney world.

After your friends left you strutted out of the kitchen, about to head upstairs when you heard a door open and shut. Instinctively you ran back to the kitchen to grab a knife to defend yourself from a possible intruder or walker, but before you could your body collided with something, or rather someone.

You cursed and looked up at the culprit; it was none other than Rick Grimes. “Rick, what the fuck! I could have stabbed you!” You scolded him, picking up the knife that clattered on the ground.

“You forget we live together?” He teased, taking a step back to get a good look at you. Your eyes were glassy and eyelids heavy — a telltale sign that you were drunk. Rick had experience pulling over a few drunkards back in his day as a cop, so he knew immediately without even having to smell the alcohol oozing from your breath that you weren’t sober.

You pushed a strand of hair out of your face, swallowing the excess saliva forming in your mouth. You mentally scolded yourself for drooling over a man, but this one was just too beautiful to not gawk at. The sound of Rick clearing his throat snapped you out of your trance and brought you back to reality. “No, no. I didn’t forget. I just…”

“You’re just drunk, right?” He chuckled, turning his head to look at the empty bottle of wine sitting on the dining room table. You rolled your eyes, taking a bite of your lip while trying to think of a plausible excuse.

“Look, I only had two glasses. Shannon and Vivian from a few houses down brought us a casserole and some pinot. Girls’ night. Sue me, Rick.” You slipped past him and headed to the kitchen, Rick hot on your tail. “There’s leftovers in the fridge, if you or Carl want any,” You said without turning around. When you got to the kitchen sink you started washing the dishes, but you frowned slightly, looking back up at Rick with worrying eyes.

“Shit. Did I wake the kids? Is that why you’re down here?” You turned off the faucet, wiping your hands hastily on a dry towel.

Rick shook his head. “No. Only I heard you. But you weren’t very quiet, and when I heard them leave that’s when I came down here,” he explained, leaning against the kitchen counter.

Your heart picked up its pace. ‘How much did he hear?’ You wondered. You pursed your lips and your eyes floated around the room, quite obviously avoiding his intense stare. He made you nervous. That sheriff always made you nervous, and part of the reason was because you were so utterly attracted to him.

Finally you brought your eyes back to his icy ones, which were studying your body. You blushed and bit your lip again — it was a nervous habit you could never seem to break. “You got a stain–” Rick pointed to the red stain on your shirt, just below your breasts, “Right there.”

You looked down at the stain, it was wine — dark red wine, at that. And you were wearing a white tank top. How convenient.

You looked back up at him, snorting in slight amusement. “Guess I shouldn’t have worn white, huh?”

He let out a low chuckle, showcasing his pearly smile. God, he was pretty. “Thought you knew better than that, Y/n,” he joked, standing back up fully to make his way over to you. Okay, now your heart was really beating fast.

When he was finally in front of you, face to face, you gulped. He smelled like the forest after a rainshower, and somehow he always did; it engulfed you like a tsunami. You berated yourself for getting so worked up over the smell of him, and just him in general. He was your leader, your friend. And he asked you to live with him and his children because he trusted you. Why were you acting like a cat in heat? ‘It’s the alcohol’, you convinced your mind, it had to be…

The silence was too loud. You had no idea what Rick was thinking right now; frankly, you never did. His poker face was always unreadable. But your tipsy brain gained a few confidence points, letting smugness wash over you.

“Whatcha thinking about, Grimes?” You shifted your weight to one leg and batted your lashes at the man in front of you. He only grinned, then glanced away momentarily only to stare back into your eyes.

“Y’know, I overheard the conversation,” Rick started, his chest steadily moving up and down as he breathed. One of his hands gripped the counter while the other was glued to his hip. Your eyes trailed up and down his tanned veiny arms, taking in his manliness.

“Mhm. And?” You kept your composure, not wanting to let Rick taunt you; you knew you talked pretty loud when you were tipsy or drunk but it’s not like you said anything negative about him or anyone.

“You girls like to gossip, huh?”

“Well, yeah. We’re women,” you joked, cracking a smile and trying to ease the tension a bit. “What are you trying to get at?” Rick never bothered to indulge in any girl gossip you, Rosita, and Maggie used to partake in, so why was he so invested now?

Little did you know, he was always invested in literally anything you had to say.

Rick licked his lips and exhaled through his nose. “Heard you talking about liking someone. Is it anyone I know?”

He smirked when he noticed how red you turned. Your face would have matched the stain on your shirt if it was a few shades darker. “I– I don’t…” Of course now was the time to choke on your words, right when you were using every fiber of your being to keep your poise in check. But goddamnit, Rick just had to be a sly and cocky bastard.

“I don’t remember even saying anything about that, Rick.”

His smirk never faded. You wanted to slap it off his face, then kiss the hell out of him.

He tilted his head to the side a bit, furrowing his brows as if to challenge your statement. “Really?”

You nodded and crossed your arms right over the stain. ‘Deny, deny, deny,’ You repeated in your head.

But he didn’t buy your bullshit. He brought his hand to your cheek, fingers barely grazing your skin as if he was afraid he’d scare you away. Your breath hitched in your throat and subsequently dropped your arms to your sides, separating your lips to say something. However, nothing came out.

“Well, I think I know your secret, Y/n. Answer seems pretty clear to me.” His voice almost came out as a growl from how low and raspy it was. Goosebumps awakened all across the surface of your body. You were tongue tied.

“I’m the one on your mind, aren’t I?”

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