#if you see me reposting this because there was a typo in my graphic mind your business

[vampire-exgirlfriend]

Visenya raged.

Rage was all that was left, black and red creeping over her vision as her hands shook with the need to unsheathe Dark Sister and cut down all who stood in the room, their beady eyes watching every twitch of muscle as she paced.

“Would that you could join me,” Rhaenys hummed, leaning back against Visenya’s chest, her delicate hands coming to wring the bath water from her hair, molten gold in the candle light. The steam curled around them, more like smoke than water, and she had never looked more beautiful.

Visenya snorted. “Dorne is too hot for the likes of me.” She rested her chin against her sister’s shoulder, wrapping her arms around her, the water sloshing over the edge of the great copper tub. In truth, she did not want her to go, did not want them to be separated. Aegon was foolish when Rhaenys was not near, melancholy and full of malaise. Not even Orys could pull him from his moods.

The younger woman turned her head, pressing her lips to Visenya’s cheek. “Fire cannot kill a dragon,” she murmured, licking at a bead of sweat that trailed down her temple.

The doors to the throne room opened, two kingsguard heaving them apart as Aegon strode through, his head held high even as his eyes were wet.

She wanted to tear the crown from his head, to beat him with it until he was so much ruined meat before her.

Rhaenys' back arched off the bed, her slender fingers pulling at the sheets beneath. The moonlight poured over her skin, liquid silver and shadow, and Visenya had never loved her more. She kissed each scar, each freckle and beauty mark that dotted her soft skin, skin so much softer than her own, tongue laving and teeth nipping until Rhaenys hissed a command. “Kiss me,” she said. “Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me.” Visenya swallowed the words down.

There was nothing that could keep Visenya from launching herself at her king, her brother, her husband. Her hands found the fabric of his doublet and she shook him. His violet eyes, lighter than her own, yet so much darker than their sister’s, looked down at her impassively, as if the fire that roared through her at their loss was a mere inconvenience.

Resplendent in her light armor, red and gold scaled leather, Rhaenys shone like a beacon from atop Meraxes. The Valyrian runes Visenya had woven through her braids caught the sunlight, reflecting it back at them. She pressed three fingers to her lips and Aegon smiled up at her, as if that kiss was meant for him. Visenya tugged gently at the pendant she wore, a single teardrop ruby set in Valyrian steel, twin to the one Rhaenys wore. Her sister touched her own necklace, grinning wide, and bade her dragon take to the sky, to Dorne.

“It should have been you!” she snarled, her teeth only inches from his throat. Visenya heard the clang of metal as his guards stepped forward, but Aegon held up a hand to halt their approach, and all she could do was laugh, the manic sound bouncing between the stone and stained glass windows. As if they could stop her from having her vengeance, as if they could hope to stand against her and the tidal wave of her pain. She would bring that pain down on them like the sea her Velaryon mother commanded, like the dragonfire they inherited from their father. “It should have been you,” she cried again, her voice losing volume, stuck somewhere in her throat. Aegon’s hands came to grasp gently at her elbows and she sagged against him, pressed her face against his chest that still smelled of Rhaenys' perfume. “It should have been you.” She was not the wife he had wanted. He was not the husband she had wanted. All that connected them was lost now. “It should have been me.” The words came out in a whisper and Visenya wept.

[theereina]

Bad News Pt. 2

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC "Bella"

Wordcount: +1.4K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, no smut, heavily dialogue-centered, mental health mentioned (anxiety), *emotional distress*, angst, heartbreak, chronic illnesses mentioned, health conditions mentioned (c*ncer, PCOS, endometriosis), infertility, slight verbal ab*se

A/N¹: Remember, I just got back into writing. I'm open to critiques, but I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

A/N²: I am not a medical doctor. Please, forgive me if my knowledge of any of the mentioned medical conditions is incorrect.

Bad News Pt. 1=> 😢

Walking into the room, my heart was crushed even further. All of the feelings I wish I could explain; I couldn't. Terry and his bags were gone. I hadn't even heard him leave. He didn't even care enough to at least say goodbye. After all these years, I wasn't worth a goodbye. Two seconds just solidified that this relationship wasn't worth any more of my energy.

I couldn't understand it. How did we get here? Had he always been like this? Was I that blind? I guess I was so busy trying to find love that I forgot the most important rule— love wasn't supposed to hurt. Then again, every version of love I've experienced was painful, manipulative, abusive, and damaging. So, maybe I found what I was familiar with. I mean, why else would I be so comfortable putting up with this?

But, what do I do now?

*2 hours later

The room was covered in crumpled and torn pieces of notebook paper. I have tried and tried to write this letter. My hands were stiff, and my head was throbbing. I just wanted him to know how I felt because my mind was already made up. I'm done, and this is over.

If he would've just listened, we wouldn't be in this predicament. If he hadn't said those words, there would still be hope in my eyes and love in my heart.

Better yet, fuck this and fuck him. He doesn't deserve a letter. This doesn't concern him anymore. I've already changed my flight for tomorrow morning. I leave on the first flight out. Since I no longer have anything to say to him, there is no need to wait. I can return to the West Coast and be at home with my Godmother and Godsister when I receive the news.

*The next day

“I will never like flying’. I don't care!” I said stepping out of the bathroom after showering. I was dressed in a pair of sweats and a plain black T-shirt. I had wrapped a scarf around my head to protect my hair during my shower.

My Godsister, Shante, was waiting for me. She was relaxed on the bed with her back against the headboard. Her satin black bonnet and black fluffy robe made her look so much like her grandmother. “What?” she asked turning her head towards me. “You look like Nana Elsie!” I laughed into my hand. “Shut up!” she said slinging one of the pillows at me.

I walked to the bed and sat on the edge closest to me. I was tired. I knew why she was in here. She wanted to make sure I was okay. Honestly, I wasn't. My life was shit right now. Leaving Terry was just another stab to the heart. All I could do was pray to God that I didn't lose anymore. I couldn't possibly see myself being any lower than this.

“You wanna talk?” Shante asked rolling on her side facing my back. “Not really, I just wanna wait until they call,” I said solemnly. My shoulders were beginning to feel heavy again. I didn't want to think about what the doctor would say. I already knew this day was coming.

After years of medical neglect and misdiagnoses, I was finally given a proper diagnosis of both endometriosis and PCOS. I had been ignored for years when I complained of a forever-growing mountain of signs that something was wrong. I was told to “lose weight” to alleviate my symptoms. When I lost the weight, nothing changed. Some symptoms even seemed to get worse.

I had grown tired of all the referrals and guesses. I had explained to my original primary care physician years ago that I suspected that I had PCOS. It was dismissed as anxiety and medical hysteria. I tried again with three other physicians to be met with the same fate— try to lose weight, take this metformin, exercise daily, change your diet, etc.

This could have been treated years ago if someone would have just listened.

*3 hours later

I was in the kitchen eating when my cell phone rang. I picked it up thinking it was the call I had been dreading. I was eager to get this over with. Just say it, and let's move on.

“Hello, this is Bella,” I mumbled into the phone. I was on the edge again. Trying my hardest to breathe and stay calm. “Bell, where are you?” asked Terry. “Terry?” I asked pulling the phone away from my ear and looking at it. Fuck! Why didn't I look before answering? Why didn't I block him?

“Bella, I'm s—,” he started to speak before I interrupted him. “Save it. I… I don't care anymore,” I said through tears. “Bells, I was—,” he started again. “No,” I said sobbing into the phone. “Could you just—!” he yelled into the phone. That was it. I didn't have to deal with this. I hung up the phone and laid it on the table in front of me.

Pushing the plate away, I laid across my arms crying with my head down. My Godmother and Godsister were both gone to work. That left me alone once again with my emotions— all of them.

ring ring ring

Not again. I picked up the phone in anger. “I don't want to talk to you!” I screamed into the phone. “Isabella? It's Dr. Moore. We need to speak about scheduling your surgery immediately,” he said in a startled tone. “I'm sorry, Dr. Moore. I'm having a…,” I said taking a deep breath. “I can call back if—,” he said. “No!” I blurted out. “Sorry. Please, tell me now,” I whimpered. I was flying between emotions faster than my body could manage.

“Well, honey. I'm sorry to bring you such bad news at this time, but we're going to need to remove your left ovary. The cysts were quite large, and… Unfortunately, the biopsy indicated they were cancerous. The safest option is to remove the affected ovary and all endometriosis deposits. Later on, we can discuss any further changes,” he said. “Changes?” I questioned while sniffling. “If it progresses any further, we may have to perform a hysterectomy.” Dr. Moore continued to talk, but I had dissociated from the conversation. This was it.

My mind was overflowing with questions. Will I be able to have kids? Would this even get rid of the cancer? If it did, would it come back? Would life ever be normal for me?

I don't know. I'll probably never know.

*Later in the day

ring ring ring

Hours had passed since the call ended. I didn't want to talk. I didn't want to move. I didn't want to think. I had planned my whole life around me and Terry's relationship— kids, a house, a minivan, a dog, all of it. Now, everything was gone. Maybe my mother was right, I am cursed.

ring ring ring

“Who is it?” I sobbed into the phone. “It's me, Bella. Baby, can you please just listen to me?” Terry pleaded over the phone. “Why, huh? What’s there to listen to? You said everything you needed to say,” I yelled. All of my feelings were being overshadowed by my anger.

“I didn't mean it, Bella. That wasn't supposed to happen. I love you. You know that!” Terry yelled. “I don't know that, Terry. If you loved me, you wouldn't have said it. You meant it with all your fucking heart. You stood on it when you left without saying a word. No goodbye. No sorry. Nothing. That's not love,” I blurted out. I was beyond tired of holding my tongue. “Stop being so fuckin' childish right now and use your brain. You're always so damn emoti—,” he said cutting himself off. “Nah, say it! I'm too fucking emotional, huh? Ain't that right, Terry?” I screamed again. Tears were streaming down my face falling onto the kitchen table.

“I’m always sick, and… and I'm… I'm always emotional. That's what you… that's what you said, right? THEN, WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU WITH ME?!” I screamed as loud as I could. I threw the phone across the room. It hit the wall and shattered. Good. No more phone calls. No more doctors. No more — Terry.

Taglist: @avoidthings @brattyfics @slutsareteacherstoo @pocketsizedpanther

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @blowmymbackout @5headsupremacist @creartivefairy

@insidefeelingofanadult @revealingco @keyaho @jimmybutlrr @gg-trini

@nayaxwrites @miyuhpapayuh @poektiou624 @gwenda-fav @nayaesworld

@ittsstephanieee @beenathembo @blyffe @thegreatlibraryofalex @persethegawd

[spookiekewchie]

On The Way...

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Characters: Ari Levinson x black!reader, Ransom Drysdale x black!reader

Summary: When Ransom acts up it's on Ari to come through and help you take your mind off it.

Word Count: 7.6k+ (don't judge me)

Warnings: general language warning, suggestive language, cheating (reader and Ransom cheat on each other), drinking, unprotected sex, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, hair pulling, choking, daddy kink (just the name used), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, crying, cuckolding, creampie, cum eating, Ransom being an idiot, idiot ex girlfriends, mentions of jealousy, petnames (ari calls reader Tink as a nickname. for clarification it's more to do with the fact that he's bigger than her stature wise and can easily overpower her. the nickname does not imply petiteness in this instance.)

A/N:  All mistakes are mine so pardon any errors or typos I'm sure I missed a few. The divider is by @firefly-graphics.

DO NOT repost or translate my work anywhere. If you like it don't forget to reblog and share with others who might enjoy it as well.

You look at video playing on your phone, watching it for what seems like the tenth time in less than a minute. It ends and then you go back to watch it again, brows drawn together in angry confusion and hurt.

Tonight was supposed to be the night you and Ransom spent the evening in. It was all planned, he’d convinced you to cancel plans so he could have you all to himself. It was his fucking plan, order take out, curl up on the couch and watch movies before the two of your ultimately got distracted with each other. You even have the expensive bottle of wine he’d gotten you chilling in the refrigerator. All that and then an hour before he’s supposed to be at your place he’s calling and telling you that something came up with his family and he won’t be able to make it. You were disappointed but you weren’t the type to try and make a man choose between you and his family like that.

Only problem is that Ransom isn’t with his family, and you know he isn’t because the Insta story that you keep replaying shows him clearly in the club partying with his boys before some tramp straddles his lap and starts making out with him. You can even hear his friend cheering him on as the girl starts grinding (off beat you note) against him to the music. Ransom tries to hide his face from the camera when he realizes it’s on him, but even without the brief glimpse of him at the beginning of it you know it’s him. He’s wearing the fucking sweater that you gifted him on his birthday, and honestly who else do you and this particular friend of his know in common that’s going to wear a damn sweater in the club.

It gets worse though, because the girl in his lap trying to suck his face off isn’t just some random. It’s his fucking ex, and the one you can’t stand the most because she’s never respected your relationship with Ransom. You have half a mind to text Ransom and let him know exactly what you think of him right then and there, but instead you just save the video to your phone because you’ve got plans to shove the damn thing down Ransom’s throat the next time you see him.

Angrily you stomp to the kitchen, wrenching the door to the fridge open and pulling out that overpriced bottle of wine so you can get it open and pour yourself a glass. You need something to take the edge off, because if you don’t calm down you’re liable to pop up on Ransom and beat him and that bitch up. You’re better than that, so you drink instead and by the time you’re two and half glasses in you’ve had the bright idea to just get even.

Scrolling through your contacts brings up a list of options. There’s one name at the start that you linger over, but the last you checked he was out of town so you scroll right past it and to the next. Bucky? Nah he’s probably overseas again with his buddy Steve. A shame because you wouldn’t mind letting them double team you right about now. Carter? Hell no, he reminds you too much of Ransom. Colin? Maybe, he’s always been cool with no strings attached. But would he be down for a revenge fuck? You aren’t sure so you keep it pushing. You don’t even pause on Dayton’s name, you really don’t have the patience to listen to him talk about his car all night. There’s Frank, toxic ass Frank but he always brings the best weed when he rolls through. You don’t want to deal with him trying to pretend that he’s going to change for you though. You scroll past his contact. You’re considering Johnny when your phone rings, and the name that flashes across your screen has you pressing your thighs together.

“Hello?” You say into the phone after answering.

“Hey, Tink. You busy tonight?” You smirk at the nickname. Tink, short for Tinkerbell, and exclusively used by Ari who likes to remind you how he’s so much bigger than you. You roll your eyes, no one told him to walk around being a thick ass beefcake of a man, but you aren’t going to complain about that. Especially right now when the one man you really wanted to hit up is on your line like destiny herself is trying to make up for Ransom’s idiocy.

“No, why?” You question, taking a sip from your glass as you wait for his reply.

“I just landed, I was hoping I could see you. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, come through. It’ll be good to catch up, I’ve missed you.” You tell him, and you swear you can hear him smirking on the other end of the phone.

“See you in an hour.” He says, and the two of you hang up.

The moment you hang up the phone you can’t resist letting out a laugh. You deserve this win, and it’s too perfect that Ari is the one that hit you up at such an opportune moment. The two of you have been friends for a while, and Ransom has never liked the man. You’ve never fucked, the timing’s always been off. Either he was out of town for work, or you were dating someone, or he was dating someone. The tension has always been there though, and Ransom isn’t wrong in his belief that Ari has just been waiting for his moment to make a move. Now the stars are aligning and Ransom’s own actions are what’s going to make the one thing he’s always worried about when it comes to Ari happen.

It’s more like an hour and half, and you getting through another glass and a half, before he arrives, but when he does you aren’t even upset about it. You stride to the door, clad in a crop top and a pair of shorts that show just enough cheek. Yeah you might have changed out of the oversized sweater and yoga pants you’d been wearing when you thought it was Ransom that was going to be coming over. And you know it doesn’t matter to Ari what you’re wearing, but it’s clear he appreciates the look. It’s already got his dick stirring and he quickly adjusts himself when you turn around to lead him inside. He watches your ass when you turn and walk ahead of him, teeth sinking into his bottom lip when he catches sight of your ass damn near hanging out of those tiny little shorts you’re wearing. “So where’s the pretty boy?” He questions, reminding himself that as far as he knows you aren’t single and he needs to keep himself in check.

You just shrug at the question, dropping down onto the sofa and scooping up your glass of wine to take a long sip. “With his dusty ass ex.” You answer simply, and Ari moves to sit a little closer next to you on the sofa than he needs too.

“What?” He asks, and you just grab your phone and show him the video. You watch his expression, the way his jaw sets and the muscle there tics. He’s not pleased to see someone embarrassing you like that. And because you just need to remind yourself why you’re about to give Ari the night of his life you watch the video again. Ari remembers all the times he wished you’d look at him the way that you looked at Ransom. Now he finds out the rich prick is out here trying to play you for a fool? Ari isn’t about to let this opportunity pass him up. “He’s an idiot.” He says simply, plucking the phone out of your hands and setting it on the coffee table. “And you don’t need to watch that more than I know you already have.” He tells you, leveling a knowing look at you when you scoff in faux disbelief that he knows you that well.

“How would you know?” You challenge, but it’s playful and you know Ari can read you like a book. It’s there in the glint of his blue eyes, he’s already figured out that you didn’t just invite him over to hang out. He watches you go to lift the wine glass to your lips again, and he pulls it away from your hand and drinks its contents himself before setting the empty glass down next to your phone.

“Tink, I know plenty about you. And right now what you need isn’t to watch that video, or the wine.” He moves to squat in front of you, sighing with a smirk on his plush lips. Two strong, calloused hands grip you by the thighs gently. His warmth seeps into your bare skin, and you suck in a breath when you feel his thumbs brushing little circles against your smooth skin. You can feel yourself clenching around nothing, and the flutter of anticipation that settles in your stomach nearly has you squirming.

“Oh yeah? Then what is it that I need?” Your voice is a little thicker with desire than you anticipate, and with the buzz of the alcohol in your veins you don’t care to try and play coy or shy right now. Right now you want this big fine man to spread you open and treat you so good that you damn near see God herself. You want to forget your own name, much less Ransom’s, and if the rumors you’ve heard about Ari are true then you know he’s just the man to do it.

As if he’s reading your mind he eases your thighs apart, and his grip tightens when he pulls you to the edge of the sofa. He settles on his knees, and takes in the way your breathing has picked up with the quick move he’s just made. “You need a distraction and some payback.” He answers simply, fingers crawling up to the waistband of your shorts. “Why else would you answer the door with this juicy ass hanging out your shorts and nothing underneath?” You suck in a breath, you didn’t think he’d clock you so soon, clearly that’s something that Ari finds amusing because he grins like the cat that caught the canary and chuckles at you. “What you thought I wouldn’t notice? Thought you knew me better than that, Tink.” He playfully chides you, and you just scrunch your nose up at him and do a poor job at hiding your smirk.

He gives you a chance to say no, and when you don’t he curls his fingers into the waistband of your little pair of shorts and tugs them down your legs. You’re already wet, folds glistening with your slick and the hungry way that Ari eyes your sex has you feeling like your warm all over. Your gazes are locked as he runs a hand up your calf slowly, he licks his lips, leaning in to press a kiss to the inside of your knee. The anticipation has your breath deepening, and your fingers curling against the edge of the sofa cushions. His beard scrapes softly against the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh as his lips trail higher, and he gets closer to where you need him most. The whimper that slips past your lips is involuntary when you feel his warm breath fanning over your hot sex, and you swear your clit throbs at the prospect of having his mouth on you.

“C’mon Ari, don’t make me beg.” You breathe, bottom lip catching between your teeth as you watch him. Ari chuckles, smirking up at you as he nips at your inner thigh.

“You’re lucky I’m feeling nice tonight.” He tells you, and before you can say something smart back the man is leaning in and hooking your legs over his broad shoulders. He doesn’t waste time, diving in and dragging a long slow stripe through your folds. He groans at your taste, tongue dragging against you for more. Your hand goes to his hair, carding through the dark locks and tangling your fingers in the lush locks.

You feel his big hands sliding up your sides, moving under your crop top to your breasts. You arch into his touch, keening when you feel his thumbs brushing over the hardened peaks. Ari pinches them between the pads of his thumbs and forefingers, tweaking them until you’re crying out and pulling on his hair. He growls against you, pressing forward until he’s pushing his tongue into you. “Fuck…” You swear his tongue is magic when it starts to press into you, and on instinct your legs twitch like they might close around his head. Ari is quick to keep them spread, groaning in satisfaction as the taste of you overwhelms him.

He lets himself get lost in the moment, the wet sounds of his tongue and the way he slurps up everything you give him echoing in your ears as he laps at you, and fucks his tongue as deeply as he can inside you. You can’t help but grind yourself against his face, the feeling on his nose bumping against your clit sending pleasure shooting through you. You aren’t even sure if he’s able to breathe with how he’s got his face buried between your thighs. The concern is brief before you remember that he’s a grown man, and if he chooses to suffocate in the pussy that it’s not your responsibility to stop him.

So you lay back and let his mouth do the work. Moaning, and grinding yourself against his face until he finally uses his strength to pin your hips back down. His tongue drags up to your clit, and your hips wiggle in his hold as you huff in frustration at how easily he can overpower you. You love it though, you always have and now that’s finally using that strength against you it has you dripping even more for him. You curse when you feel sucking on your clit, and when you feel two thick digits pushing into you. He curls them, searching out that sweet spot and focusing on it once he’s found it.

“Don’t stop...shit, don’t fucking stop…” You beg, clenching around his fingers each time you feel them pumping in and out of you. He’s got you so close to release that all it’ll take just a little more to push you over the edge. You give his hair another hard tug, back arching as you let out a needy whine.

“You gonna cum for me?” He teases, lips brushing over your clit as he speaks. Your eyes screw shut and nod when he flicks his tongue against the throbbing bud. You’re so close, you can feel the pressure building to a boiling point until the slightest nibble on your sensitive bud has you crying out. You’ve been so wound up since you watched that video of Ransom in the club that your climax hits you like a wave, washing away all that tension and leaving nothing but blissful pleasure in its wake. Ari grins against you, greedily lapping up your release like a starved man. When his tongue brushes over your clit again you press a hand against his forehead, trying to push him away only to have him pinch your hip while his other hand continues to slide his thick fingers in and out of you.

“F-fuck, Ari!” You whine out, eyes flying open to look down at him. There’s mischief lighting up his blue eyes, and before you can even think of telling him to give you a moment he’s sucking on your clit again and pumping his fingers faster. Your head hits the back of the sofa with a quiet thump, the sudden feeling of that overwhelming pressure building again. “Damn it, your mouth is too fucking good.” You groan, the heel of your foot digging into his back. You don’t try to fight the pleasure you’re feeling, letting Ari’s mouth and fingers coax you into another orgasm that sends electric pleasure shooting up your spine and has your toes curling. “Wait, wait. Ari, wait.” You pant, urging him up from between your legs. He let’s you, smirking and beard glistening with your juices. You bring him up to your lips, kissing him and moaning at the taste of yourself on his mouth. “I wanna feel you, please Ari. I need it.”

He presses his hips against you and you can feel the hard bulge that’s straining against the front of his jeans. It pushes against your thigh, and you clench around the fingers still inside you. His digits slowly drag back and forth, still stroking that sweet spot as he swallows your moans. God, he just wants to sink into you and feel how tight you squeeze around his cock but he also wants to take his time. “You sure? This pussy’s so tight I’m not sure she’ll be able to take me.” His confidence has you fluttering around his fingers, and moaning into his open mouth. You can feel that he’s big, and you grin against his lips.

“I’m so fucking sure, now stop fucking teasing me and split this pussy open.”

Ari nearly loses what little control he’s still holding onto when you say that. Patience is wearing thin, and when he pulls his fingers out of you, you think that maybe he’s going to fuck you right there on the sofa. Instead he hauls you into his arms and stands to his feet to carry you towards the bedroom. Your body is still humming with pleasure and alcohol as he moves the two of you through your place. Your lips find his neck, kissing and nipping at it with a low hum.

He walks a bit faster, needing to get you into bed so he can get out of his clothes quick because the way his cock is fighting against his jeans is almost painful now. “You’re such a goddamn tease.” He huffs, finally dropping you on the bed. Then he’s quick to start stripping out of his clothes.

You bite your lip, watching in breathless anticipation for Ari to finally show you what he’s working with. He pushes down his jeans, and then his underwear and finally you see what the hype is all about. Might need to start calling this man Captain Hook, you think to yourself as you eyes his cock bobbing heavily between his hips, crawling your way to the end of the bed. The moment he’s in reach you raise up on your knees, one hand pulling him into a kiss and the other wrapping around his thick length. He groans against your mouth, his big hands caging your hips and gripping you tight.

Pulling back you give Ari a wicked smirk, leaning back in to leave a slow trail of kisses down this neck and to his chest. He hisses and bucks into your hand when he feels your teeth biting into the muscle of his chest, he sighs a second later when your tongue soothes over the indented ring that your bite has left. God, you hope it bruises. Something about the thought of Ari wearing your marks makes you feral and you trail your lips lower before leaving another against his stomach.

Ari curses under his breath, watching you with a lust blown gaze as your mouth lands against the vein that runs down the front of his hip. You’re dangerously close to where he wants to feel your mouth. You grin up at him licking your lips before you leave another little love bite against his hip. Ari curses again, head thrown back before he lets out a little growl and glares down at you halfheartedly. You know what he wants, and you stroke your hand along his length before settling comfortably on your stomach. It puts you at the perfect height to have his dick right in your face and you take advantage of that fact. Tongue out you lick a slow stripe along the underside, swirling it over the swollen angry tip and catching the salty beads of precum that leak from it. Ari shudders, and you put him out of his misery when you wrap your lips around him and give him a few shallow sucks before pulling back so you can spit on his cock and use your hand to glide it over his length.

“Tink, you’re being a fuckin’ tease.” He growls between clenched teeth, and you just playfully wink at him before taking him into your mouth with a moan. You can feel the tension ease off of him as it’s replaced with pleasure, and like a gentleman Ari gather’s your curls up into one of his large hands so that they don’t impede your good work. He gives you shallow thrusts, letting your mouth take more and more of him until he’s nudging the back of your throat and threatening to trigger your gag reflex on his thick cock.

You don’t even care if he does, the wine has you feeling too good and you can’t stop yourself from bobbing your head back and forth along his dick. You’re too greedy to just stop there, so you push yourself past that reflex and that fat cock push into your throat as you gag around it. Ari’s grip on your hair gets tighter, and before he even knows what he’s doing he’s using the hold he has on your curls to guide you along. The sounds coming from him are like music to his ears, and you’re dripping. Just aching to feel his dick splitting you open around it. You get lost in your thoughts, a hand slipping under you to play between your legs while you suck on his cock. It’s sloppy, the loud shameless sounds of your slurping and choking on him fill the room. He knows he needs to pull you off of him and soon, because as good as your throat feels around him he doesn’t want to cum there. Ari wants every drop of his spend spilling out of your pussy, and only after he’s thoroughly beat it up. He owes you for all the times you’ve teased him, and all the times he’s had to be the bigger man and back off. There’s lost time to make up for and right now you’re being a cockhungry little demon and coming really close to fucking up his plans.

Reluctantly he pulls you off of his cock, shaking his head at you with a huffed curse on his lip as he moves to the side of the bed and gives your ass a hard slap. You jump with a moan and a laugh, stripping off your shirt to bare yourself completely to Ari. “Ouch! That hurt.” You tell him with a grin, drawing your knees up slightly under you so that you can give your ass a slow sway through the air. “Do it again, daddy.” You tease, and Ari’s cock damn near jumps when he hears you call him that. He gives your ass another slap before pushing you onto your back and moving himself between your thighs with surprisingly agile movements.

You can feel him pressing against you, his length trapped between your bodies making you give a needy whine. “Call me that again.” He demands, and the grin you give him is nothing short of cheeky.

“Make me.”

You should be worried by the look that Ari gives you when those two words leave your lips, but the buzz from the wine has you feeling too bold to care. Ari just smirks, lifting up just enough that he can grip his thick cock and line himself up with your sopping core. You feel him pressing at your entrance, and then with a sharp thrust he’s inside you and your vision whites out for a second. Ari lets out a hiss of pleasure but you can’t hear it with the way that the blood is rushing in your ears. The stretch is more than you anticipated, and while Ransom’s cock isn’t anything to laugh at, Ari’s got him beat when it comes to girth. The sting of it has your toes curling, and for a second you forget how to breathe until the sound of Ari’s voice finally breaks through and you hear him talking you through the simple act of inhaling and exhaling.

“That’s it, Tink. Breathe, I’m not even half way in yet, c’mon beautiful. In and out, that’s it...good girl.” He eases back slowly, making you suck in a breath at the drag of his cock against your walls. He’s so big, and you already feel so full and yet he’s saying that’s not even half of him? The question is answered when he snaps his hips forward and you feel what he means. There’s no keeping your moans quiet, head thrown back against the bed as your body squeezes tight around him and your nails rake down his back. “I know, I know it’s a lot.” He sounds so cocky and condescending as he says it, and that faux empathy just goes straight to your pussy and has you fluttering around him. “But you’re gonna take this dick.” He growls against your ear, finding his rhythm and that’s the moment that the fractured thought enters your mind that maybe teasing Ari wasn’t the smartest idea.

You’re caged under him, his thrusts keeping you filled and crying out for him as you grip against his muscled arms. Your nails leave angry, red, half moons pressed into his flesh, the bite of pain doesn’t deter him one bit and just adds fuel to the fire that you’ve lit. “God damnit, Tink. This pussy was made for me. She’s so fuckin’ tight around my cock…” He groans, one hand gripping your thigh hard enough to bruise and the other curling around your throat.

Your eyes fly open, Ransom’s never put his hand around your throat, and you’ve never thought to ask him to. Ari’s not even squeezing but you still clench so hard around him that his hips have to still for a second. He swears you’re going to be the death of him if you keep doing that, but that doesn’t stop him from adding just enough pressure on your throat to make you moan. “Fuck...harder...please” You beg, words broken up by moans as you try to speak. Ari, bites down on his bottom lip, fingers twitching around your throat while he continues to pump into you with steady thrusts hit all the right spots.

The pressure is maddening, and you know he’s got you shooting towards the edge of release again, and you’re chasing that high desperately. “Please, what?” He grunts, his next thrust coming harder and chasing the air from your lungs. “You know what I wanna hear.”

You don’t even have to think about it, the words leaving your lips faster than your mind can really process. “Please daddy…” You whine, knees digging into his sides as he changes the angle of his hips and starts to hit that sweet spot. His fingers tighten around your throat, and the thin wail of pleasure that’s coming from you goes choked and ruined. A good thing too, because you don’t need nosy neighbors calling the cops and having them trying to break down your door while Ari’s beating down your walls.

“Fuuuuuuck...cum for me, Tink. Make a mess on this dick.” He says, shuddering as pleasure shoots up his spine. Ari can feel his control waning as he holds off his own release, but he refuses to cum before you. Never mind the fact that’s already made you cum more than once already with his mouth and fingers. He needs you to cum again, and you do with a silent scream as your body tenses when you finally feel your climax take hold. It lights up every nerve in your body, and all you feel is blinding pleasure that quickly turns overwhelming as Ari’s thrusts start to sink into your harder as he chases his own high.

It only takes him a handful of thrusts before he’s burying himself inside you, the feeling of his spend flooding you making you shudder in pleasure. You lay there, basking in it as you lick your dry lips. Ari’s weight on top of you keeps you present in the moment, and you wonder what he’s up to when he doesn’t immediately pull out. As far as revenge fucks go, you’re happy, but if you know Ari you know he isn’t going to just up and leave after a quick fuck. “I hope you don’t think we’re done, Tink.” He tells you, confirming your suspicions before you feel him slowly moving his hips back and forth. Fuck. You think, realizing in an instant what he’s doing, the cheeky bastard is working himself again and your body is more than happy to help him. Your walls are still fluttering from your orgasm and it just serves to get him hard again faster. “Been waiting too long to fuck you to call it after just one round.”

You bite your lip, fighting the urge to let something smart pass them. You’ve done enough of that for one night, and you’re pretty sure your legs are already wobbly. “Ari, come on. You don’t have anything to prove.” You try, biting back a moan as he continues to move and his cock continues to harden inside you. He just nods along with what you’re saying, but that damn smirk is still firmly on his face. You open your mouth to say something else, but he silences you with a kiss as he presses you into the mattress under his weight until you're groaning and completely forgetting about whatever it is you were saying.

“Roll over.” He says simply once he pulls away, his cock sliding out of you, hard again and covered in a mixture of your releases. You just shake your head with a sly grin, rolling over to your front, a gasp rushes out of you when you feel his calloused hands yanking your hips into the air as he props you up on your knees. You think it’s impossible for him to turn you on any more than he already has, only for him to prove you wrong with such a simple action. He’s not even inside you yet but Ari has you gripping the covers in tights fists as you wait in anticipation for him to push that fat cock back into you. You want him to so badly, and you’re so caught up in the moment that you don’t even hear the sound of your front door opening. It’s no one but Ransom, he’s the only one with a key and if you could see him you’d know that he was looking around suspiciously after seeing Ari’s car in the driveway.

He has no idea where the two of you are until he hears you crying out from the bedroom. Ransom’s blood runs cold at the sound, and he rushes back towards your bedroom and doesn’t hesitate to nearly take the door off the hinges.

Ari looks up, and doesn’t even lose his stroke as he just grins at Ransom. “Hey pretty boy, you mind going to get us some water?” He asks, and Ransom is so stuck for a moment that he halfway turns to do just that before his mind catches up to what his eyes are seeing.

“What the fuck!” He’s livid, turning red in the face as he stands there watching Ari absolutely dig you out from the back. You look so absolutely fucked out that he’s torn between just letting it happen and trying to wrestle you away from the burly man.

“How’s your ex, Ran?” You question, managing to get the words out before Ari’s sinking so deep into you that you swear you can feel him in your stomach.

Ransom nearly deflates instantly. Part of him wants to be angry, but that question from you lets him know that he’s been caught in his lie and doing something she shouldn’t have been. He says nothing, glaring at Ari instead like he’s debating taking his chances in trying to fight the man. He knows better, but the temptation is still there, especially when he hears you begging for more.

“Right there, daddy. Fuuuck you’re so deep, don’t stop. Please don’t stop…” You shouldn’t sound so good to him right now, but you do and it’s having an unfortunate effect. His dick is a traitor he decides, feeling it starting to stir as the lewd scene plays out in front of him.

Ransom’s about to say something, but you manage to push your upper half up onto your elbows so you can look directly at him. “Did you fuck her?” You force the question out through clenched teeth, and Ransom knows better than to lie to you. It’s clear you already know the answer, or at the very least you’ve jumped to the correct conclusion. He did fuck his ex, but only after drinking a little too much and letting his friends hype him up. It hadn’t even been a satisfying fuck, and he hadn’t been able to finish, his dick going soft the second his ex’s obnoxious moans started giving him a headache.

She wasn’t you, she couldn’t even suck his dick the way you did. Complaining too much about how it hurt her throat if he tried to push into it. He’s fucked up and he knows it, especially when he knows how much you hate her. This is his karma he thinks, watching you and Ari go at it while he has no ground to stand on because he knows you wouldn’t be doing this if he had just came over like he promised and hadn’t let his boys talk him into skipping time with you to check out some new club. Ransom nods, answering your question silently and you want so badly to curse him out but you can’t even form words right now because Ari’s got you cumming again and you’re gushing for him.

Ransom just grinds out a curse between his teeth, and balls his fist up. Ari sees this, and cracks his neck before giving Ransom a look that’s just daring him to try it. “You cheated first, you can either leave and pout about what you’ve done.” Ari hits you with a particularly deep stroke that has you trying to pull your hips away from him. “Or you can sit there and watch me fuck her stupid, maybe if you’re good you can clean up after me.”

“Fuck.” You and Ransom say in unison, neither of you expecting that from Ari and you don’t know what comes over you but you can feel your cunt pulsing around Ari’s cock at the thought of it. Ransom knows he should absolutely hate the way that Ari’s speaking to him, but it strikes a chord in him that he didn’t know was there and before he can say ‘eat shit’ he realizes that he’s actually considering taking that punishment for his misbehavior.

“What’s it gonna be, Ran? Your stale pussy ex, or watching Ari ruin this tight pussy?”

Ransom backs away from the two of you, and you think he might leave but instead he drops into the armchair by the door. There’s no way he can go back to his ex, and he doesn’t want to break up with you. If this is his penance then he’ll pay it, even if the sound of your ass clapping against Ari’s hips will haunt his dreams for a while. What’s worse is that all this has him straining against his expensive trousers.

The moment his ass hits the chair, Ari’s reaching forward and grabbing you by the back of the neck to pin you down as he rails into you from behind. You thought he was too much before, but now it’s like there’s something feral about him and you’re trying to pull off of his cock just for a moment so you can try and get your bearings. Ari’s free hand gives your ass a thunderous slap, making you cry out and claw at the covers. “Now where do you think you’re goin’, Tink? Keep that ass right there, don’t you even think about runnin’ from this dick.” He tells you, and the sound of anguished pleasure that drags out of you has Ransom discreetly trying to reach for his zipper. He’s still pent up from not being able to bring himself to cum earlier, too caught up in you to find an old flame satisfying enough to get himself off.

You’re too far gone to notice, but Ari does and he cuts a hard look at Ransom who stills as if he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. Fuck. Why is he letting another man control him this damn much? He’s got no fucking clue but it’s clear that Ari’s got full control of the room. “Don’t even think about it, ya little prick. Think you had enough fun tonight and at her expense no less.” Ari’s words cut through him, and Ransom angrily sets his jaw and clenches his hands into fists on the arms of the chair. He doesn’t like agreeing with Ari, and there’s a part of him that wants to do it anyways but then he remembers that this is all his doing. His consequences for his actions, and he wishes that there wasn’t a part of him that enjoyed it.

“Ari, daddy, please. I can’t...fuck I can’t again…” Your whining has Ransom inhaling sharply, his gaze on you as your body jolts from every harsh thrust from Ari. He can hear how close you are to cumming again, and he knows you’re going to soak the sheets again. He bites back a few choice words, angry at himself because he knows how good you feel wrapped around his dick when he’s taking you apart and turning you into a babbling mess. The fact that it’s an experience that he now has to share with Ari makes him feel a whole host of conflicting emotions. The tears that are starting to escape you are no help either, and it’s just another thing that works against him.

Ari grins down at you, tossing his hair back out of his face as he chuckles. “I can feel you squeezin’ the life outta my dick." He tells you, the hand gripping your hip sliding around to settle between your legs. “You can give me another one, go on. Show pretty boy over there how much you love cryin’ and squirtin’ on this fat cock.” He tells you as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix with each thrust, his fingers begin strumming against your clit and you crash over the edge with a broken cry and a gush of your juices soaking your thighs and the sheets under you. Ransom nearly chokes on his tongue, the nickname from Ari, the sight of you cumming so hard that you’ve ruined the sheets, it’s all too much and it’s almost painful how hard he is right now. He thumps his head against the back of the armchair a couple of times, trying to drown out the sounds coming from you and Ari but it’s no use. Everything about this is overwhelming his senses. The smell of sex is heavy in the air that he can practically taste it and it has his mouth watering, he can hear the wet squelch that comes with every thrust of Ari’s cock into your dripping cunt, the sound of both of your pleasure echo too loudly in his ears, the sight of it is all he can focus on torn between watching how your face twists up in pleasure or the ripple of your ass each time Ari’s hips smacks into the back of your thighs. Even the bulge of the other man’s muscles has him on edge, and Ransom hates that he doesn’t hate it.

You let out a sob of pleasure, body trembling when you feel Ari’s fingers still working your clit while he fucks you until there’s not a thought in your head, and words are nothing more than babbling nonsense. He makes you cum again, another gush of your juices and you can’t even bring yourself to give more than the thin cry that manages to claw its way out of you. Ari let’s your body milk him for his spend, making sure he spills it nice and deep inside you. The feeling is almost soothing, and you mewl softly at the feeling. Ari gives you a moment, let’s you come down just a little before he’s slowly withdrawing and moving your pliant body until you’re sitting at the edge of the bed between his legs. He holds your thighs apart, and you know that Ransom can see how swollen and fucked out you look, but you hardly care as Ari’s spend starts to drip out of you. “What do you think, Tink? Was he good enough to at least get a taste before you send him back home?” You nod dumbly, at Ari’s question. Mind too frazzled to really think. “Well come on, pretty boy. Clean her up and then you can get out.”

Ransom can hardly move, his cock harder than it’s been in a long time and there’s a worry that just the rubbing of the fabric over his length will be enough to have him ruining a perfectly good pair of pants. It’s a fleeting worry, especially when faced with your spread open pussy and the expectation that he’s to get on his knees and lap up another man’s cum from you. He wants to say no, he wants to get up and storm out and say that he’s suffered enough...but he can’t. A bigger and stronger part of him wants to bury his face in your cunt and devour you, he doesn’t even care that he’ll have to eat Ari’s cum to do that. That part of him has him on his knees between your thighs, lapping and slurping at your used cunt. The combined tastes of you and Ari does something to him, and it makes him damn near ravenous. He wants to pull you closer, but something in the back of his mind says that Ari will probably not allow him to touch you more than he already is. Ransom can’t pin down why he cares or why he’s even doing this, but he takes solace in knowing that it’s him that’s making you moan and writhe now.

His tongue pushes into you, chasing more of the mess that Ari’s left behind and you jolt. A hand flying down to tangle in his perfectly styled hair, he doesn’t complain when you mess it up and pull at it. He just wants to make you feel good, wants to make you cum at least once before he leaves you and has to wonder if this will fix things or if you’ll call him up in the morning to tell him the two of you are done. He doesn’t want to think about that though, and he focuses on eating you out, and cleaning you up. He’s so focused that he doesn’t register the second, much larger hand pressing against the back of his head until he hears a rumbling “That’s it, get in there pretty boy.” From Ari. To Ransom’s surprise he doesn’t recoil away from the man’s touch, but he just tells himself that Ari isn’t what’s important. You are, and he knows that he has you close as his tongue buries itself inside your fluttering sex and his nose grinds against your swollen clit.

“Fuck, I know you’re tired but you got one more in you.” Ari whispers against the shell of your ear, and you want to tell you don’t but you can feel how close you are. “Come on, flood his face. Send him home covered in you so he doesn’t forget how badly he fucked up.” Ari’s words are the catalyst to the powder keg that Ransom’s mouth has set, and you’re trembling when you cum for the last time that night. Juices flooding his mouth as you soak him and your legs struggle in Ari’s strong grip. Ransom swallows you down before he pulls away from your cunt with his mouth dripping your essence. You lie still against Ari’s chest, your breathing coming in shallow pants as you try to settle yourself down.

Ransom looks like he wants to say something, but he just shakes his head and stands to his feet before he turns on his heel and rushes out of the room and towards the front door. There’s a lot he needs to grapple with and more that he’s confused about. You on the other hand are simply tired, in need of a bath, and a fresh set of sheets on your bed. All things things that Ari sees to happily, taking care of what you need before he finally settles you back in the bed. He’s prepared to leave as well, thinking you might want your space, but you surprise him when you mumble for him to stay the night in the bed with you.

It’s just another thing he’s all too happy to do for you.

[spookiekewchie]

So, purely for scientific reasons, let's say you and Ari are friends.

Just friends.

But you need an opinion on a new outfit and he's honest - always has been when it comes to you.

So he's sitting there while you're showing off each one. There's a black, silky little number that gets his attention.

So he tells you that's the one, the one that you should go with because you'll be out with your girls, right?

Until you tell him that's actually a date.

Ruin The Friendship

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Characters: Best Friend!Ari Levinson x woc!reader

Summary: *see the ask above*

Word Count: 973

Warnings: general language warning, implied future smut

A/N: Just a little something that's long overdue but I'm trying to get the writer brain to turn back on. I gave it a look over but I'm sure I missed some typos and errors. As usual the divider is by @firefly-graphics

DO NOT repost or translate my work anywhere. If you like it don't forget to reblog and share with others who might enjoy it as well.

"Okay what about this one?" You ask, stepping out of your closet in a short skirt and cropped halter combination. Ari lays back in your bed, comfortable and looking more tempting than sin. You quickly push that thought from your mind, he's just a friend. Your best friend to be exact, and he's never been one to beat around the bush with you so if he hasn't made a move then clearly he isn't interested in being more than that.

Right?

"I don't know, it's a little basic for a night out." He answers after giving you a look over. You heave a sigh, rolling your eyes at him before throwing your head back with a dramatic groan.

"Basic? Ari, when was the last time you wore something that wasn't made out of flannel or blue jean fabric?" You shoot back, laughing when he launches a pillow at you that you easily side step.

"You called me, remember, sugar?" He shoots back, blue gaze drifting down to your ass when you turn your back to return to your closet and try again to find that perfect outfit. Ari sighs quietly, letting his eyes drift up to your ceiling while he reaches down to adjust the half hard bulge in his pants that he's carefully hidden behind the stuffed bear he got for you last Valentines day. He's sure if you knew half the thoughts running through his head right now that it'd ruin the friendship.

He's tempted to clue you in regardless, and just when he starts to weigh the pros and cons of doing that you reemerge in a dress that has him stuck on stupid for a moment.

"Okay what about this one?" You chime, striking a couple poses before turning in a slow spin to show all angles of the dress. Ari curses under his breath, the sight of you in the short black slip dress that's clinging to your curves and draped over you just right has him ready to risk it all just to taste you.

For a while he doesn't say anything, he just sits up a little straighter and looks you over from head to toe. It's not until you call his name softly with a hint of insecurity in your voice that he snaps out of it. "That's it. I don't need to see anything else." That's a lie, there's a lot more of you that he's dying to see but he bites his tongue.

You grin, quickly rushing over to your full length mirror to look yourself over so you can try to visualize the rest of your look. "I think you're right, Johnny is going to lose his mind when he sees me in this."

Ari swears he can hear a record scratch and freeze frame when you say that. "Who the fuck is Johnny?" He doesn't mean to ask that out loud, but before his brain can catch up to his mouth the words are out there and you're turning around to look at him like he's lost his mind. "I thought you were trying to pick out an outfit to go out with your girls."

You let out a shocked laugh, not sure how to take his question or the fact that he seems bothered by the fact that you're planning to see another man. "Relax, he's just a guy I'm going out with tonight." You say, shrugging as if your stomach isn't doing flips right now at the thought of Ari possibly being jealous.

"No." It's such a simple response from him, but it has you blinking in confusion all the same.

"Excuse me?"

Ari moves out of your bed, advancing on you with slow calculated steps as he eyes you with lust and hunger. "I said no."

As sexy as he's being right now that still doesn't exactly settle for you and you scoff with a roll of your eyes. "Riiiiight, so unless you have a damn good reason for why I shouldn't, then I'm going on my date."

Ari chuckles, coming to a stop in front you so close that you have to tip your head back to meet his pretty blue eyes. "Gonna be hard to go on a date when you're pinned under me for the rest of the night."

You don't expect that from him, and you're unable to stop the shaky breath that escapes you. You clench around nothing, heat pooling low and a tell tale heartbeat thumping steadily between your thighs. Breathing in deep you try to take a calming breath and cross your arms over your chest. "Really? Because you haven't made a move yet an—"

Before you can finish Ari dips down and his shoulder meets your middle as he hoists you over his shoulder. You let out a small scream of surprise, clearly not expecting him to just pick you up like he has and you certainly don't expect for him to drop you onto your bed a moment later. He's on you before you can shoot off a smart mouthed comment, pressing between your easily spreading thighs and letting you feel the hard bulge of his cock through his jeans.

You can't help the way you moan at the friction of the rough fabric pressing hard against your damp panty covered sex. Grinding against him you throw caution to the wind and reach up to sink your fingers into his hair to pull him down for a heated kiss. All thoughts of Johnny are gone from your mind, and if you know him half as well as you think you do you know he'll find someone else to take your place. Why not spend the rest of your night ruining your friendship with Ari doing the one thing you've been dreaming of for longer than you care to admit.

[spookiekewchie]

⛓kinktober 2021- cum marking⛓

—as long as you know who you belong to...

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Characters: Frank Castle x woc!reader

Summary: The one where mouthing off at Frank has consequences.

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: language, frank grabbing reader by the throat, name calling, unwanted touching (not from frank), dry humping?, orgasm denial, cum marking, implied future smut

A/N: Day two of kinktober is going out to all my Frank hoes out there. Hope yall enjoy this filth lmao. Pardon any errors or typos please. The divider is by @firefly-graphics

DO NOT repost or translate my work anywhere. Reblogs are always welcome, and let me know that you enjoy my fics.

The sound of a vase crashing to the floor in your living room tells you that you have an unexpected guest. Judging by the grunts and grumbled curses coming from a man, you already know exactly who it is. You sigh, not pausing as you finish fastening the ankle strap of your heel in place before you grab the gun from your dresser and wander into the living room to confirm your suspicions.

Frank Castle is standing in your living looking irritated at the broken vase. Any other day you might have been excited to see him, but not tonight. Not when it’s been three weeks of radio silence and you’ve had time to reevaluate the relationship...if you can even call it that. For all you know it could just be sex with him, but you’re not even really sure about that on the worst of days. It doesn’t help that when he’s with you, whether it’s a week or month at a time he does everything a lover should. It’s hardly fair you think, you don’t know where you stand, you just know that you want him...wanted. You remind yourself that three weeks is too long and you’re pissed about it. Especially when you think about all the times you let your social life suffer because you were more concerned with waiting around just in case Frank showed up. Well you’re determined to put an end to that, your friends want to go out tonight and you already promised them that you’d show.

Unless Frank was hurt and needed your help, pissed off as you are you know you won’t leave him bleeding and injured.

Judging from the lack of stab and bullet wounds Frank isn’t hurt. “What do you want?” You know what he wants, and when he looks at you with a gun in your hand, and wearing a tight little dress that is almost a touch too short, and showing off more of your warm brown skin than he likes, it cements it. The man damn near swallows his tongue at the sight of you, and briefly you smirk. You still got it, and it’s fueling the petty desire to rile him up before you leave him to go see your friends.

“Actually, don’t answer that. I know what you want Frank, and I’m too busy for you tonight. I have plans.” You tell him, picking up your purse and slipping the small handgun into it. A gun that he insists you carry with you when you go out, for your own protection. Maybe he does care. A little voice chimes in the back of your mind before you quickly silence it.

“You wanna tell me what this attitude is about?” Frank questions, clearly not pleased and doing his best to not show just how easily you get under his skin. God that question just makes you light up with anger and before you know it you’re laying into the man.

“Three weeks Frank!” You snap, and when he doesn’t react or say anything it just sets you off more. “Three fucking weeks, you could have at least let me know you weren’t dead in a fucking ditch somewhere. God it’s like you either show up here half dead, or just to get your dick wet.” You know that’s not entirely true, but you’re mad so the facts are a little blurry. Still he says nothing, and you show no sign of stopping your tirade now that he’s got you going. “You fuck me, then you leave me, then you don’t even call and just expect me to welcome you back like it’s nothing? I don’t know if anyone’s told you lately but you’re too fucking old to be acting like a fuckboy Frank.” You spit out, and you can see the deep calming breath that he has to take to likely keep from crossing the room and yoking you up.

“Yeah but I’m not too old to fuck that attitude outta you.” He finally replies, voice gruff and barely hiding his displeasure at how you’re choosing to speak to him. Of course you scoff, doing your best to ignore the wave of heat that rushes to your core. You huff, petulant and bratty because acting out is easier than admitting you feel played.

“Whatever Frank, you wanna stick around and wait up, then fine. Do you, but I’m going out with my friends. I’ve spent one too many nights sitting around like a damn fool waiting for you to show up like I don’t have other options I could have been entertaining.”

And just like that Frank’s on you, a hand around your throat and the back of your legs bumping roughly against the arm of your sofa. “You wanna run that last part by me again?” The words are more of a growl than anything, and you know you’re toeing the line of setting the man off. Still, you just can’t help yourself, even when you feel the way your body trembles slightly in his hands.

He needs to know that he’s not the only one interested, maybe then he’ll put in a little more effort.

“I said I have other options, and if you can’t be fucked to at least text and let me know you aren’t dead in a ditch somewhere then clearly I should be paying more attention to them.” You spat, breath catching in your lungs a second later when his grip tightens. You think to yourself that you’ve done it, you’ve riled him up and he’s going to bend you over the back of the sofa and rail you until you can’t see straight.

Frank just lets you go, scoffing to himself as he shakes his head and steps back.

“You and I are going to have a conversation about this when I see you later.” Is all he says before he’s stalking his way into your kitchen to fish a beer out of the fridge. Men. You think to yourself, so God damn entitled.

If you were thinking clearly you would have known that Frank was plotting something.

It's a little over an hour later when you realize that you should have suspected Frank to be up to something. He appears in the upscale little bar that your friends had invited you out to, at first you think he'll come over and drag you out of the bar. Especially when some guy decides to buy you a drink and flirt with you. Your gaze drifts over to Frank, wary and unsure now that you aren't feeling as confident as you were earlier in the evening. Accepting the drink you sip at it, half paying attention and half keeping an eye on Frank. It's not until you feel the guys hand on your ass that you give him your full attention.

You jolt out of the barstool, grabbing your purse as the drink in your hand tips forward to spill into the handsy idiot's lap accidentally while you apologize profusely. There's chaos, the man is not happy and makes a grab for you before your group of friends descend upon him and shove you towards the back and out of harm's way. It gives Frank just enough time to slide an arm around you and walk you towards the empty restrooms. You say nothing, watching him check that the stalls are all empty before he returns to the door to flip the little lock in place.

"You aren't going to hurt that guy are you?" You question quietly, knowing Frank well enough to know that even though he looks calm now he's not happy at the thought of someone trying to touch you against your will. Frank's methods of dealing with that usually involve violence.

"Might break his hand later, teach him not to get grabby with people." He answers, and you have no doubt that might means he absolutely will. That has your panties damp, but you say nothing of it as you watch Frank as he finally rounds on you.

Neither of you say anything for a moment, but you can tell by his tense movements that he’s still not happy with you. All your earlier bravado is gone, you know you fucked up earlier with how you spoke to him. You’d been too prideful to just tell him that you had spent all that time worried about him, and that you’d missed him. “Look about earlier…” You start, pushing the strap of your purse up on your shoulder and watching as he stalks his way back over to you. Words falter when he cages you in by pressing his palms against the wall on either side of your head.

“Yeah, you wanna tell me what the fuck all that shit was about?”

You chew your bottom lip, hesitantly reaching out to wrap your arms around him. “I was upset because you hadn’t reached out for three whole weeks.” You admit, and briefly you can see the way his gaze softens for just a second. He knows he should have at least sent a text, it’s not like you’re just some casual fuck that he keeps around. You're one of the few people left in the world that he'd go on a warpath for if something happened to you. Clearly he hasn’t shown that to you, not that it’s easy for him to open up in that way.

That doesn't mean he can let you get away for your earlier stunt. Frank doesn't encourage bad behavior, and letting you go unpunished would be doing just that.

“So that’s what had my good girl actin’ like a fuckin’ brat, huh?” He grabs you by the chin and you can’t help the way your glossed lips form into a pout. “You know that pout is real precious, but it ain’t getting you out of your punishment.” He tells you, leaning in like he might kiss you only to pull back and leave you whining as you try to chase his lips. Frank just laughs at your efforts before he’s pulling your arms from around his neck and spinning you around to face the wall. He doesn’t even have to say the words, you already know what he expects and trying to be a good girl for him you press your hands flat against the wall and arch your hips back until you feel the round globes of your ass pressing against Frank. He stays put for the moment, watching as you fight to stay still and not grind back against him.

Ever so slowly he slides the tight dress up over your ass, hissing at the black lace thong that’s just clinging to your slick cunt. “Fuck, you always were such a good little slut. Too bad you had to act like a god damn brat tonight. Might’ve filled this tight lil’ cunt with my cum ‘stead of havin’ ta punish you.” His words bring a defeated whine to your lips, but if you know Frank once he’s sure that you’ve learned your lesson he’ll indulge...at least you hope. You expect him to spank you, but instead you hear the zipper of his jeans coming down and the rustle of fabric as he pulls himself free. When he rips the waistband of your thong in two and pulls it away from you, you think for a moment that he’s changed his mind, but then he quickly douses that dream when he presses his cock between your pressed together thighs and you can feel him dragging against your damp folds. He’s so close to being exactly where you want him, but he makes sure to only tease you with the possibility of his cock slipping into you. You can’t help but whine and throw a pleading look over your shoulder at the man.

“What? You thought I’d change my mind?” He scoffs, and you’re too embarrassed to admit that, yes, you thought that maybe Frank would just fuck you and give you what you wanted. This was worse than his rough palm spanking your ass raw and red, this was damn near torture when all you want is to feel him splitting you open and making you scream out for him. When you don’t answer him he lays a sharp slap against your mound, and then another until you're tripping over your words to admit the embarrassing truth.

“Y-yes, sir!” You stammer, and you can hear the dark chuckle from Frank. He grunts softly, leaning down to press a lingering kiss against the buttery smooth brown skin of your exposed shoulder. Never once does he lose his rhythm as he teases his cock through your folds. His rutting against you makes you want to sob, because he’s so close that all it would take is a slight angle change and he’d be pushing into you just like you need. But Frank is careful to avoid doing just that, and you can’t do anything but stand there sniffling and squirming each time you feel his thick cock slide back and forth between your thighs while he teases your sex, and lets your slick coat his length.

“You think you deserve to feel this fat cock splitting you open?”

You moan at that, squirming as you clench your thighs together tighter and draw out a hiss from Frank. Just the thought of him inside you is enough to make you clench around nothing and you’re quite sure that he’ll be able to make you cum just like this without even being inside you. “Please, I’ll be so good for you. I’m sorry about earlier, I won’t do it again...” You’re begging and pleading with him, and you can tell it's getting to him when you hear that growl of his from behind you.

“You’ll be good for me, huh? My good little slut?” He grunts out, the tip of his cock bumping your clit when Frank slides his length forward and you keen in pleasure. “You’d do anything to get my cock in you right now wouldn’t ya?” He taunts, a hand gripping your curls into a tight fist as he yanks your head back. You can’t speak, not trusting your voice just now so you give a strained and jerky nod to answer him. You feel it again, his cock rubbing against your clit and you’re so worked up that you know it’ll make you cum if he does it again.

Frank knows as well, and pulls himself from between your thighs, you’re so frustrated that you could cry and you know that’s exactly what Frank wants. “Don’t move.” He orders, and you just huff out a choked noise but do nothing else to voice your displeasure. You want to peak over your shoulder to see what he’s doing, you can hear him and you can see how one of his hands has drawn away from the wall. You can only guess he’s taking care of himself, and your suspicions are confirmed when you feel his hot spend being shot against your lower back. You bite down on your bottom lip, whining in defeat as you feel him give your ass a pat.

“Have fun entertaining those other options with my cum staining that pretty ass.” He tells you, and you can hear the amusement in his voice as you carefully force the dress down over your ass. You’re just glad that the dark fabric won’t show the wet stain that is likely to be there.

“I wanna go home, Frank.” You mutter, pouting up at him as you turn around to face him. You don’t even want to go back out there to finish enjoying drinks with your friends. You just want Frank, and he knows it just as well as you do. He doesn’t stop you when you step forward and slide your arms around him so that you can bury your face in his chest and inhale his scent. You really are glad that he’s okay. He returns your embrace, even dropping a sweet kiss to the top of your head. It’s a soft moment, but you know this isn’t the extent of your punishment for how bratty you’d acted earlier in the night.

“One hour, and then you better have your ass back to your car and ready to leave. Gimme your keys.” He orders, and you don’t hesitate to reach into your purse to pull them out and place them in his waiting hand. “We still gotta have a conversation later.” He reminds you, and you nod before moving to check your appearance in one of the restroom’s mirrors before you heave a heavy sigh and walk out. Frank carefully slips out moments later, and no one is none the wiser thinking you had just slipped away to get yourself together after the jerk earlier had tried to grab you.

They don’t even see Frank’s eyes zero in on the creep who glares at you from the back door of the bar before he slips out the back. Frank follows, intending to have a very different type of conversation with the man. You see him going out of the corner of your eye, but you don’t react. You just focus on trying to enjoy a drink and your friends' company as you count down the seconds until your hour is up. It’s difficult to do with the feeling of Frank’s cum drying against the swell of your ass, and every time someone approaches you with the intention of flirting you just can’t bring yourself to entertain it. Frank’s marked his territory, and you want nothing more than to go to him and let him claim you the way you know he’s just itching to. You check the time on your phone after a bit and nearly sigh in relief to see that there’s only five minutes left before the hour is up. Just enough time for you say your goodbyes and get the fuck out of there.

“I don’t know guys, I think I’m just still a little shaken up. I’m gonna call it, I’ll text when I get home.” They understand, they’re good friends after all and you might feel a little guilty about dipping out early on them if it weren’t for Frank waiting for you outside.

Just as you suspect he’s already behind the wheel of your car when you get to the parking lot, and he says nothing as you slip into the passenger seat. He just puts the car in gear and drives away. It makes your belly swoop in anticipation, and one look at him tells you that his gears are turning as he thinks up just what he intends to do to you once he has you alone.

You already know it’s about to be a long night, and you can’t wait.

[spookiekewchie]

my sanctuary, you're holy to me

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Characters: Andy Barber x woc!reader

Summary: of all the the things in his life, andy barber knows that he can't lose you. you're his last bit of peace in the tumultuous hell that his life has turned into.

Word Count: 3.2k+

Warnings: infidelity (andy is still married to laurie), pushy andy, oral (f receiving), edging, forced confessions of love (the love is real but the confession is forced), overstimulation, pussy slapping, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), squirting, there's a touch of angst, smut with feels, i can't think of anything else but if i missed something let me know

A/N:  This is for the homie @sunshinexsin's 1k milestone (congrats! you deserve it). I hope you like this filth (I mean was anyone surprised that I went the with the smutty option?). Anyways, all mistakes are mine so pardon any errors or typos I'm sure I missed a few. The divider is by @firefly-graphics

DO NOT repost or translate my work anywhere. Reblogs are always welcome, and let me know that you enjoy my fics.

The hotel room is dimly lit, your pacing steps thudding softly against the plush carpet as you wait for his arrival. You know what you have to tell him won’t be received well, but after the encounter you had with Laurie at the hospital earlier you know you can’t continue things the way they are. Andy’s married, his son is recovering after being in a coma for months, and Laurie...well you don’t like the woman but how can you blame her for confronting you when you’re sleeping with her husband while they are supposedly trying to repair the relationship.

Except Andy doesn’t want to repair it, he wants it done with. He claims he wants a divorce and the paperwork just needs to be filed. It would have been filed already but Jacob woke up and Andy didn’t want to stress him out so soon into his recovery. At least that's what Andy claimed when you brought it up the last time. It’s a fair concern, and really what right do you have to demand he go forward regardless? You can’t do that, not with Jacob slowly getting better each day. You care too much about that boy to do something as selfish as add more stress on him when all he needs is peace.

“Sweetheart?” Andy’s voice shakes you from your thoughts, and pacing. One look at him and you already know he’s heard all about Laurie screaming at you in the middle of the ICU. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry!” He rushes toward you, hands reaching out to pull you into his warm embrace. God you could stay just like this forever...if only he wasn’t still married. You inhaled his scent, determined to commit it to memory because you have to stick to your guns and end this affair before it gets any messier for either of you.

“Andy, we need to talk.” You say, and you can feel the way he tenses before pulling back to look at you with concern and apprehension. He knows what you’re about to say, he’s been anticipating it all day since Laurie called him from the hospital’s security office in hysterics after the confrontation. You can see him gearing up to talk you out of it, and before he can you let the words rush out of you. “We can’t keep doing this, I can’t keep being the other woman.”

There you said it, but why doesn’t it feel like you thought it would?

Andy shakes his head, hands falling to your hips to hold you in place as his blue gaze searches your brown eyes as if he’s trying to gauge just how serious you are. You know you don’t look as resolute as you would like, and it's because deep down you don’t want to let him go. Months of being with him and you just know you’ve done the one thing you promised yourself you wouldn’t, and fallen in love with him. But he’s not yours to love. The rational side of your mind tells you, and no matter how much you want to ignore it the guilt creeps in, and the feeling of just being a dirty little secret for him swiftly follows it.

“We can, it won’t always be like this. Sweetheart, please. I know it’s a mess right now, I know Laurie’s little scene at the hospital today caused some trouble but—”

You wrench away from him, huffing in indignation at how he downplays it. He wasn’t there, he hadn’t heard the things she had said and he hadn’t seen the looks that you’d gotten afterwards.

“It wasn’t a little scene, Andy!” You half shout, not meaning for your voice to raise. “She came to the hospital and screamed at me outside of Jacob’s room about how I was nothing more than a worthless, homewrecking, slut that was sleeping with her husband!” You can feel the anger bubbling up again at the memory, god Laurie was lucky that she’d confronted you while you were on the clock because had she tried that outside of the hospital you would have laid her out. “She caused a huge fucking scene, and my supervisor was standing right there for all of it. Andy, I’m not just in some trouble, they’re talking about doing an investigation to see if disciplinary action is necessary because fucking a patient's married father is apparently unethical!”

You don’t mean to yell, but you feel like you are as the worry and fears of losing your job, and having a black mark on your professional record creep in. You’ve worked so, so hard to get where you are, and you know you’re a damn good nurse. But that won’t matter if the hospital decides that having a nurse engaging in an illicit affair with a patient’s married father is bad for PR. You don’t even realize you’re crying from the stress of it until you feel Andy’s hands cupping your cheeks as he kisses the tears away. You shouldn’t let him, you know it, but you’re emotional and he’s whispering reassuring little promises, “I’ll take care of it.” He says softly, “it’s going to be fine, I won’t let anything happen to you sweetheart.” And you believe him, despite everything wrong with the relationship, Andy’s never broken a promise to you.

“Don’t end this, please...sweetheart, I-I’ll deal with Laurie.” He’s desperate to keep you, willing to do just about anything if it means not having to let you go. “I need you.”

“You’re married.” You insist weakly, making no effort to move away when you feel his lips ghosting over yours.

“I don’t love her, I haven’t for a long time. The marriage is dead.” He counters, fingers sliding to the zipper of your skirt to pull it down.

“In the eyes of the law that doesn’t matter.” He chuckles when you say that, the law is his wheelhouse. Medicine is yours.

Your skirt pools to the floor around your high heels.

“You’re my sanctuary, my peace, the closest I’ll ever get to heaven.” He mutters and you can feel the fluttering in your belly as he continues to work you out of your clothes. “Don’t take that away.”

“I—”

“Andy…” You cut him off, afraid that what he says next will make your resolve weaken further.

“I love you.”

You suck in a sharp breath, leaning away to search his face for any sign of deception. Andy’s said plenty of things in the heat of the moment, but he’s never said that to you before. But it’s there in the bluish-green eyes that you’ve come to adore as they meet yours with an intensity that almost knocks the breath out of you. Andy already knows you love him, you haven't said it but it shows in the way you look at him, the way you hold him, the way you kiss and touch him. And he's seen the way you interact with Jacob, it's different from the other nurses that clearly still believe he had something to do with the murder that rocked the nation. Not you though, you were kind to Jacob, your care for his son more than just professional courtesy. Seeing you care for his son has Andy thinking about a second kid, this time with you. He keeps that to himself, not wanting to push too much too fast when you're clearly still grappling with his confession.

It's an unfair tactic to keep you, it's the truth but dirty all the same, and he knows it. Despite that Andy doesn’t feel the slightest bit of guilt for the position that he’s just put you in, instead he doubles down when he feels the way you tremble when he undoes the buttons of your top one by one, the whole while keeping that same intense eye contact. This isn’t how he planned to tell you, Andy’s intention had been to take you somewhere out of state where no one would recognize you two. He wanted to treat you to dinner at some overpriced restaurant where he can show you off, then take you back to the hotel he would have brought for the weekend so he could spend the rest of the night taking you apart as many times as your body could handle. He still plans on doing that so long as he can convince you to keep the affair going until he no longer has to hide what the two of you share.

You haven’t said the words back yet, and it isn’t lost on him. It’s at the tip of your tongue though, and he can see you struggling to keep the words at bay as if you’re afraid to say them out loud.

The fact of the matter is that you are afraid. You know that if you say it out loud that you won’t be able to walk away like you know you should. Andy knows you’re fighting to hold on to the last vestiges of your control, and he can’t have that. He can’t have you thinking you can just walk away from everything that the two of you have between each other. “You don’t believe me?” He questions, gaze taking on a determined edge as he covertly backs you towards the room’s bed. “I’ll get on my knees and confess it if that’s what you need.”

Andy Barber doesn’t drop to his knees for just anyone, but for you? For you he’s shrugging off his jacket and tossing it aside before loosening his tie, and unbuttoning the cuffs of his dress shirt so he can roll the sleeves up against his strong forearms.

And then he does it, Andy drops to his knees and presses his cheek against the softness of your thighs. He relishes in your softness, you’re always so soft under his calloused hands. He adores the fullness of your curves as he grips against you like a man that’s trying not to drown and you’re his only lifeline. Your resolve is crumbling more and more, and you can feel the words trying to escape before you swallow them down again. Still you breathe his name, and a hand moves to card through the fluffy locks of dark hair atop his head. You should stop him, but you can’t bring yourself to say those words either. Not when you can feel his beard as it scratches softly against your skin, and his fingertips dig into the supple flesh of your thick cheeks as he groans hungrily at the scent of you. He noses your clothed cunt, the only barrier between you and his salivating mouth is the pathetically damp fabric of your panties. The breath you don’t even know that you’re holding is released with a needy mewl.

He smirks then, knowing he has you right where he wants you. “I love you, you’re the only woman that matters.” All it takes is a slight push and you can feel the end of the bed against the back of your thighs before you’re falling back against it. “And right here is where I need to be.” He continues, teeth and lips leaving kisses and bites against your inner thigh as he spreads your legs.

Your breathing is labored, lips feeling suddenly dry as you sit up just enough to watch him grab you by the hips and roughly pull you to the edge of the bed so he can yank your panties down until they’re dangling from one of your ankles. You gasp at the suddenness of his actions, but you can’t deny the way your core aches for him to break you down and pull those three words from your mouth. He doesn’t dive in immediately though, working you up with feather light touches, kisses and licks that leave you needy and frustrated. He’s everywhere except for where you need him most and you want to scream. Instead you beg, knowing he likes that better.

“Andy, please…”

“Please what, sweetheart?” He teases, a smirk on his lips as he peers up at you from his kneeling position between your spread thighs. You merely whine, if you say that you love him too it makes it all too real and part of you still expects that one day he’ll decide it’s less trouble to simply stay with Laurie. Andy wants to hear those words from you though, and he knows just how to get you to say whatever he wants to hear. His tongue just barely grazes your drenched folds and it has you arching up from the mattress before Andy’s strong hands are bringing your hips back down. You shudder when he does it again, a desperate sound escaping you before you’re groaning in relief when his fingers spread your folds and his tongue flattens and drags slowly against you. The tip of his tongue flicks against your clit and you reach down to run your fingers through his hair in hopes to encourage him with your soft touches and pleas for more.

Andy gives you more, and he takes his time between your thighs as he’s almost worshipful of you while his tongue seeks out every single part of you that he knows drives you crazy. He’s building you up to your climax so sweetly that it has you sighing and mewling for him before the moans you give him begin to grow louder. He knows your body so well, his tongue rolling against you before he’s suckling gently against your clit until hears that keen of pleasure on your lips. He’s not shy about the noise he makes, the smacking and slurping of his mouth against your cunt is nothing but music to his ears as it all blends with your whimpers, and moans that are all for him. You think he’s forgotten all about your attempts to end things when you feel his tongue pressing into your warm heat, and god does it feel good. So good that it has you questioning why you thought you could just walk away. No one’s ever made you feel this good, and you doubt anyone else can.

It’s when he has you right on the edge that he does what you don’t expect, and that’s stop. “Wh-what? Andy no...please don’t stop now.” You beg him, but he does nothing but wait until your body has backed off from the edge of release, and then he brings you right back to it. He does it again and again, and by the time he has you trembling and crying actual tears of frustration he plays his hand.

“I love you, sweetheart.” You feel his tongue against your clit and you sob in need as your hips jolt. “Don’t you love me?”

“Yes, fuck, I do. I love you too, Andy.” The words leave your lips like a prayer, all the hope and desperation that he’ll finally let you have your release hanging on every word as you writhe against the mattress.

You nearly jump off of the bed when you hear the wet slap of his hand against your dripping cunt, then you feel the sweet sting of the pain that makes you gasp. A hand grip tightly in his hair when he lays his cheek to your thigh, the other fists into the mattress. “I don’t believe you mean it. Not after you tried to leave me” He taunts you, and then there’s another loud wet smack of his hand against you.

“I love you, Andy!” You cry, hips arching up from the bed before he forces them down again so he can deliver another slap to your oversensitive sex. “Please-ah!” Another slap. “I-I love you, I love you so much!” He knows you do, but he doesn’t stop letting his hand come down against your cunt. Each slap draws another confession of your love to the surface until you’re incoherent and cumming with a gush of slick that coats his hand, and drips down onto the comforter that covers the mattress.

You tremble against the bed, your folds puffy and sensitive as Andy’s hand soothes over them and he coos his praises at how good you are for him. He stands upright once your breathing has calmed, and he shucks off his expensive dress shoes before stripping out of the rest of his clothes. He pulls the heels from your feet, kissing a path up from your ankle to your knee before he’s easing you higher up the bed and stripping you out of the bra that you still wore. You mumble something to him, and he leans closer as he slots himself between your still trembling thighs.

“I love you, I-I just don’t like sharing you.” You admit, tears on your cheeks before he brushes them away, and shushes you gently with kisses and promises that you’re the only woman he’s touched since all this has started. You believe him, if only because in her tirade, Laurie confirmed that he wouldn’t even kiss her anymore. Your mind begins to take that ugly path towards guilt before all your thoughts splinter and shatter into pieces when you feel Andy sinking into your quivering hole. You hiss, arms wrapping tightly around him as your nails drag against his back uncaring if you mark him up. You’re too lost in the feeling of fullness that he always gives you when he’s pushing himself deep inside you.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re squeezin’ so tight.” He grunts above you as he moves, his hips keeping a deep, slow, and purposeful pace with each hard thrust that he gives you. You’re so sensitive that you know you’ll cum soon, and it almost feels like too much with how he’s already worked you over. You can’t complain though, as maddening as the pleasure feels you know how much you’ll hate it if he stops. You need to feel yourself falling apart around his cock just as much as he does. “Can feel you flutterin’ around me, you close already?” He questions, and you nod as your glassy brown eyes meet the intense blue of his. One of his hands slides to your hip and the other grabs your hand to lace his fingers with yours. “Cum for me, sweetheart.”

The knot that’s been pulling tighter and tighter in you unravels in instant, the feeling tingling its way up your spine like its electric as your body tenses and goes slack. Your eyes screw shut, and you feel the gush of your juices as your orgasm splashes against his hips and drip down to soak into the covers of the bed. Andy doesn’t stop, letting you grip his hand hard enough that your nails leave little half moons indented into the back of it.

“One more, one more and keep your eyes on me, sweetheart.” He wants to see the unfiltered love behind those gorgeous brown eyes of yours that he’s come to love. He knows it won't take long either, Andy can feel how sensitive your body is, your walls grip his cock desperately, clenching and unclenching around him as your body tries to milk him dry. He’s holding back out of sheer force of will, only to push you to one more orgasm before he finally lets you rest.

You fall apart for him one last time, a silent cry on your lip as you keep your eyes on him, and in a brief moment of clarity you know that there’s no way you’d ever be able to leave this man.

[spookiekewchie]

Prove a Point

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Characters: Ransom Drysdale x black!reader

Summary: What happens when Ransom's words aren't taken seriously? He makes sure to prove his point to you, and the poor idiot that you had the nerve to go on a date with.

Read THE INTERN

Word Count: 4.6k+

Warnings: Ransom is bit dark and possessive in this one, kidnapping, potentially dubcon, forced cuckolding, oral (m receiving), drooling, fingering (blink and you miss it), Ransom's filthy mouth, unprotected sex (p in v), use of a knife, threats (not against reader), nicknames (sweetheart, ransom get's called daddy once), sir kink

A/N:  It's DAY FIVE OF KINKTOBER and I really wanted to revisit these two, the idea I had in mind really lent itself to some cuckolding sooooo here we are. This could be considered dark so pay attention to the warnings, and know that you are responsible for your own media consumption. Anyways, all mistakes are mine so pardon any errors or typos I'm sure I missed a few. The divider is by @firefly-graphics

DO NOT repost or translate my work anywhere. Reblogs are always welcome, and let me know that you enjoy my fics.

You’d done what you promised yourself, you’d gone on your date that Ransom had made you miss. You’d had to take a sick day just to avoid the man, but in your mind it was worth it to not only inconvenience him but also do the exact opposite of what you knew he wanted from you. The only problem was that your date wasn’t going as great as you thought it should have been. For one Bryce looked a little too similar to Ransom for you to truly appreciate his good looks, and then there was the background. A rich grandfather, and a ridiculous inheritance that he was set to get when the old man died. God you could have rolled your eyes at how you just had to end up with the one man that not only resembled Ransom but also came from money and had a silver spoon shoved up his ass.

And just when you thought it couldn’t get any more insufferable a shadow fell over your table. You looked up, and there stood Linda Drysdale with a smirk on her face and looking like the cat that caught the canary. “Oh dear, I stopped by the office today and Ransom told me you’d called out sick. Maybe he was mistaken, because you certainly don’t look sick.” She looked over to Bryce then, a look of recognition on her features and a somewhat sour expression flitting over them. “Bryce.” It was a clipped greeting, and he didn’t seem too pleased to see her either. Whatever beef there was between them though you were determined to stay out of it, so when Linda finally turned on her heel to leave you didn’t question it. You did mentally kick yourself when you saw her fishing her phone out of her purse on her way out the door though.

She was probably going to call Ransom and tattle on you in hopes that he’d fire you. The woman never did like you, something about how much Harlan liked you, and enjoyed your company had her feeling threatened. The woman acted like you were trying to steal her father, you rolled your eyes at the thought and forced yourself to at least try to enjoy the rest of your date with Bryce.

Bryce who looked like a slightly younger, slimmer, and less experienced version of Ransom.

It was going to be a long night, and suddenly you were ready for it to be over.

Two hours later you were standing awkwardly at your car, attempting to bid Bryce a good night when you caught sight of a panel van pulling up, the door sliding open, and two men in all black rushing the pair of you. You didn’t have time to react before someone was hitting Bryce over the head to knock him out before grabbing you up so that they could throw both of you into the back of the van. You put up a fight until they wrangle you and tie your wrists and ankles, then came the blindfold and you had no choice but to sit still and hope that you’d be okay. Selfishly you didn’t care much what happened to Bryce, for all you knew he was the target and you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

It felt like an hour went by before the van came to stop, and you could hear Bryce groaning softly as he began to stir. You were carried inside of a building, walked up some steps, and sat on something soft, it almost felt like a bed and that gave you another reason to worry, you could hear Bryce nearby and had to assume that he was left in the room with you. Time ticked by slowly, and you tried to keep up with the minutes but fear was gripping you too tightly to focus. “What the fuck is going on?” You questioned to no one in particular.

“I don’t fucking know.” That was Bryce speaking and your head turned in the direction his voice was strongest in. “Hey are you okay? They didn’t hurt you did they?” He questioned, and it sounded like he was struggling with something.

“Of course they didn’t fucking hurt her, you were the only one they were allowed to rough up.” It sounded like someone new had entered the room. Bryce cursed under his breath, suddenly spitting insults as if he knew who was holding the two of you captive. It took you a second, but you realized that you knew this man’s voice and you scoffed, suddenly very confused and very annoyed.

“Ransom?” It couldn’t be, why the hell would he have you and Bryce snatched off the street like that, and why would he...oh wait. “Ransom you untie me right now!” You demanded, and you could hear the huff of his laughter and the shuffle of his steps as he neared you. Something cold and metal slid between your bound wrists and the sound of rope being cut filled your ears before you were able to move your hands. The first thing you did was rip the blindfold away, and then next was to untie your ankles in a rush. “What the fuck is going-” You shut up when he whirled around, a knife in hand and a glare on his pretty face.

“I thought I made it clear that you were mine, and that you weren’t going on any dates with this idiot.”

Your mouth went dry, was he serious? You’d honestly thought he was just talking shit that night in his office, but clearly you had misjudged just how serious Ransom had been. “Excuse me?” You snapped, flinching back when you heard the bitter laughter that rushed out of Ransom. “Ransom you can’t be serious, this is ridiculous. Just...just let us go, and we can all pretend that you didn’t have us kidnapped just so you could go on an ego trip and prove a point.” Even in the face of danger you couldn’t resist snapping at Ransom, and for the briefest of moments you saw amusement flashing in those brilliant blue eyes of his before they darkened.

“You really want to test me right now? I told you that you were mine, and I fucking meant it. You think I won’t slit this prick’s throat right here to show you how serious I am?” Ransom moved to stand close enough to Bryce’s bound form that all it would take was a slash of his wrist and Bryce would be no more. Eyes wide you jumped up from the bed, taking a tentative step towards an angry Ransom who was focused entirely on Bryce who looked a mixture of fearful and pissed off.

“Ransom…” Nothing. “Ransom, please.” Still nothing. You huffed, worry coursing through you that if you didn’t shift the brunets focus soon you’d have to be witness to a murder. Something you really didn’t feel like dealing with. Swallowing your pride you tried again, this time with a different name. “Hugh.”

That got his attention, Ransom’s head whipping towards you with a curious interest shining in his eyes. “You’re right, I shouldn’t be testing you right now.” He narrowed his eyes as you spoke, letting you step in close enough that he could smell the scent of your perfume clinging to your skin. “And I shouldn’t have gone on that date with him.” You conceded, watching as Ransom took a step away from Bryce and put himself more in your space.

“No, you shouldn’t have.”

“It was a waste of time, I realized that fifteen minutes in. All night long I was just sitting there comparing him to you, and thinking how I should have left the second I laid eyes on him. I was never going to fuck him, I already knew he’d just disappoint me.” You admitted, ignoring your own frustration at the fact that it was true and not something you had ever intended on telling Ransom. But it seemed to work, because Bryce was getting offended and the more upset Bryce got at your words the more Ransom preened knowing that in your eyes the younger trust fund prick just couldn’t compare.

“Put the knife down, and I’ll show you just how sorry I am for not listening to you.” Your fingers dropped to his hips, fingers slowly working to undo his pants while you leaned in to whisper against his lips. “And then you can show him why he can’t ever compare with you.” Predictably, Ransom let the knife fall to the ground so that he could grab you by the hips and yank you into his body. His lips claimed yours in a messy, possessive kiss that has Bryce angrily cursing at the two of you as he tried to free himself from the chair that Ransom had him bound to. It only got worse when your hand slipped down the front of Ransom’s undone pants to stroke him until he was hardening in your grip.

Ransom broke the kiss, chest heaving just slightly and his pupils blown wide with lust as he looked down at you with a wicked smirk curling onto his plush lips. “On your knees, sweetheart.” He ordered, tone soft and almost sweet in contrast to just how tightly and possessively he was holding onto you. You made to move but a strong hand caught your chin and forced your gaze back onto Ransom’s. “What do you say?”

It took you more strength than you knew you had to swallow your pride down even more and fix your mouth to say the words that you knew Ransom wanted to hear. “Yes, sir.” You bit out, dropping to your knees once he let go of your chin.

“Pay attention Bryce. Maybe you’ll learn something.” Ransom taunted, hissing out a breath a moment later when he felt your tongue dragging along the underside of his length. The brunet towering over you let his gaze drink you in as he finally got to experience what wonder’s your mouth could do other than cursing him out, and telling him every little thing he did to irritate you. Ransom found that he much preferred your mouth full of his cock, the feeling of you sucking shallowly at his tip already making him want to rock his hips forward to make you take more of him. He held off for now, letting you use a hand to stroke his cock while you reared back just enough to spit on it. The mixture of your saliva and his precum was spread over him by your hand while you took him back into your mouth, big brown eyes peering up to meet Ransom’s pretty blues when you moaned around him. For the moment Bryce was an afterthought, but you remained vaguely aware of his presence because of the angered struggling and the spitting of insults.

You weren’t sure what was angering the trust fund baby more, your words, Ransom’s taunting, or the fact the pair of you were ignoring him while making him watch the lewd scene. Honestly he should be thanking you, obviously Ransom had been ready to slit his throat just to remove him from the equation all together. It was your quick thinking that spared him. Internally you rolled your eyes, men were always so ungrateful. Either way, if Bryce were going to sit there and spit venom at you, then you’d just have to let him get a good look at what he’d never get to experience for himself.

You took more Ransom into your mouth, Your hand slipping from his shaft to cup his sack so that your fingers could tease and massage him. The strained curse that came out of his mouth would have made you smirk if yours were so full. Letting it serve as motivation you let your head bob further down, tongue flattening against the underside of his cock to make more room for him in your mouth.

“Damn, sweetheart. You’re doing so good that poor Bryce over there’s getting hard.” Ransom’s eyes left yours to land on Bryce, the smirk on the older brunet’s lips was nothing short of cruel as Bryce demanded to be untied. Ransom let him stay right where he was, reaching down to tangle his fingers in your dark curls. He bucked his hips against your mouth, making you gag in protest when you felt him threatening to breach your throat. You attempted to pull back, but Ransom’s grip on your hair loosened so he could instead press a large hand against the back of your head. He fucked into your mouth then, making you gag and drool around his length as he used your mouth as he pleased. You wanted to hate it, the whole situation was fucked and you knew that, but you could feel the way your pussy ached to be filled by him again. The fact that you could feel Bryce’s heated glare on you the whole while only made your clit throb, and you desperately wanted to slip your fingers under your dress to do something about it. Your fingers drifted between your legs, but the moment Ransom saw that he dragged you off of his cock with a hard pull on your curls. “No you don’t, you don’t touch my sweet little cunt unless I say so.”

You wanted to protest, but before your mouth could fire off some scathing comment he had it full again. Growling around him only served to give him more pleasure, and you just found yourself more frustrated. Your hands moved to grip against the fabric of his pants, your knees dug into the soft carpet as you squirmed and tried to alleviate some of the needy ache that you felt, it didn’t help and it left you groaning in frustration around the man’s cock. An ache started to form in your jaw, and you whined, reaching up with a hand massage his sack again, this time with every intention of wanting to make him cum so you could give your jaw a rest.

Ransom didn’t let you end things so quickly though, pulling you back again so he could take a moment to admire the mess of smeared lip gloss and drool dripping from your mouth and onto the swell of your breasts. “Fuck, look at you. You’re a mess, sweetheart.” Something about the way he said it was sweet and you surprised yourself with the burst of laughter that erupted out of you when you shifted your hand from his balls to grip around his cock and stroke him. You were on autopilot now, your own lust winning out over your ego and pride. You needed that ache to be filled, and if you had to play Ransom’s game to get that then you would. Never mind the pissed off trust fund playboy currently hissing at you about how much of a slut you were.

“I want you to cum in my mouth, please.” You didn’t bother hiding the needy tone of your voice, smirking at the calming breath Ransom had to take at hearing you. Leaning forward you gave his tip a few kitten licks before wrapping your lips around him again, and then, ever so gently you let your teeth graze over him. Ransom clearly hadn’t been anticipating such a dirty little trick from you, and the sensation sent him over the edge with a drawn out moan as his spend filled your mouth while you sucked him for every drop of it.

“Shit...open your mouth, lemme see.” He ordered through panting breaths, gripping you by the jaw. You opened your mouth, letting him see his spend coating your tongue, and made no protests when he turned your head to give Bryce a nice look as well. “Swallow, sweetheart.” And you do, licking your lips a moment later with a shrug at Bryce’s look of disbelief. His anger had worn off, and now he was just stewing and trying to figure out why he hadn’t gotten this side of you. “Aww, look at him. He doesn’t know if he’s horny or angry.” Ransom was taunting him again, and Bryce’s glare was back in full force, but the obvious bulge straining against the front of his pants confirmed that Ransom was right. “Imagine how pissed he’s gonna be having to sit there and watch me fuck you.”

One second you were on your knees and the next, Ransom had hauled you up and tossed you onto the bed with little effort. He stripped you out of your clothes, tossing them this way and that before all but ripping your bra and panties in two so that he could get his hands on your bare body. Two thick digits pushed into you without warning, pumping into you and making you writhe against the expensive sheets of Ransom’s bed. You already knew that he could take you apart, but this time he could take his time and he made sure to drag out the moment and not let you cum right away. It was torture for you, but it was also torture for Bryce to watch because the longer Ransom dragged this out the longer Bryce was stuck there impossibly hard and unable to free himself.

It was exactly what Ransom wanted, and when he made you cum around on his fingers he just couldn’t help but leave the bed to stalk over to Bryce so he could smear your essence over the other male’s lips with a cruel smirk. “Enjoy it you pathetic cuck, it’s the closest you’ll ever get to my girl’s pussy.”

You probably shouldn’t have found the sight of Bryce’s tongue darting out to try and sneakily lick the taste of you from his lips, but between that and the sight of Ransom undressing at the end of the bed you were too worked up to care. Biting down on your bottom lip you took the time to openly let your gaze rake over Ransom’s naked form. Those damn sweaters really did him no justice, you thought to yourself. “Damn...I really need you inside me.” You breathed out, eyes glancing over to a silent and fuming Bryce. “C'mon, show him how well I take you.” You’d like to say you were still just playing Ransom’s game, but there was some twisted sense of pleasure in making Bryce sit there and watch what he couldn’t have.

Perhaps you and Ransom were better suited than you wanted to admit.

Ransom grinned at your words, grabbing you by the ankle to yank you closer to him so that he could crawl over you and slot himself between your spread thighs. A glance to your left let you know that Bryce would be able to see your face clearly, and you could only assume that was exactly what Ransom wanted. You were willing to bet money that, that was the reason why Ransom took his time pushing into you and drew out the moment. That first feeling of his cock stretching you around him had your back arching off the bed, and your mouth falling open with a drawn out moan as you tried to angle your hips to make him sink deeper into you. “Feels good doesn’t it,” you could only nod. “See Bryce, you never stood a fucking chance.” Ransom chuckled, hips snapping into you to draw a breathless cry out of you before he set a rhythm that easily turned you into a mess of moans and begging for more.

It didn’t take him long at all to have you feeling that coil tightening in the pit of your belly again. You nails dragged down his muscled arms, your half lidded gaze meeting his own lust blown stare. You knew he could tell you were close, the way you squeezed and fluttered around him told him everything and you thought for a moment he’d make you beg for it. Instead he slipped a hand between your sweaty slicked bodies to slide his fingers against your clit. That first touch had you seeing stars, hips bucking under him though you weren’t sure if it was an effort to get away or to get more. “God…’m so close, please Ransom.” His fingers sped up, the quick circles he drew over your throbbing bud working quickly to make that coil in your belly twist until it finally snapped and you felt the intense wave of pleasure overtaking you.

Ransom’s hips stuttered at the feeling of you clamping down around him, forcing him to rut into you harder as he dragged out the moment of your release until you weren’t sure if it was the same climax or if it had blended into the next. He smirked, watching you pant and writhe for him before he finally let his fingers fall away so he could fall forward until he was hovering close enough to press his damp forehead against yours. “Tell him who you belong to, sweetheart.” He muttered. You knew you’d told him earlier that you’d had no intention of fucking Bryce, but it was like Ransom still had a primal need to show the other man why. You could hardly complain when Ransom was fucking you that good, and giving your body exactly what it craved.

You whined, head turning to the side to let your teeth bite down against Ransom’s flexed bicep hard enough to make him snap his hips into your harder. “Fuck...you do, you daddy.” You were too cockdrunk to even realize what you’d just called him, but Ransom and Bryce both heard it.

“You hear that you fuckin’ cuck, she’s all mine.” Ransom had said, aiming a vicious smirk at Bryce as he began to rail into you hard. “Daddy huh?” He returned his attention to you, only to find you too fucked out to even really hear him. “Think I like the sound of that.” He grunted, spearing into you harder as his pace grew more frantic the closer he came to his own release.

Everything was a dull roar in your ears, body simply riding out the pleasure and bliss until Ransom reached his end and filled you with his spend. He stayed like that for a moment after, resting a fraction of his weight on top of you while his cock softened inside of you until slowly he pulled out of you. He chuckled at your whine of discontent at his cock leaving you, but then he moved you again, turning you so that Bryce could see Ransom’s cum dripping out of your used pussy. “Take a nice long look Bryce, last time you’re gonna get to see my girl’s perfect little pussy.”

You were too tired to tell Ransom to quit it, and everything after that was a blur. You vaguely remember seeing Bryce being untied and shoved out of the room by Ransom, then there was something damp and warm between your thighs wiping at your folds. You thought it was Ransom cleaning you up, but you were too tired to investigate. Soon enough you drifted off to sleep, leaving Ransom to finish doing whatever it was he was doing before he finally settled into the bed beside you.

The sound of birds chirping annoyingly outside woke you in the morning, and for a brief moment you panicked when you didn’t recognize your surroundings. Then the events of the prior night began to flood in and you could only groan and drag yourself from the bed. Searching for your purse you grabbed it up off the floor and padded into the bathroom to pull out the travel toothbrush you had packed just in case. You were midway through brushing your teeth when you noticed that your makeup had been removed, and your brow furrowed in confusion. Why the hell would Ransom bother with removing your makeup for you? You shrugged it off, telling yourself that he simply didn’t want to get makeup on his overpriced sheets. After that you grabbed a quick shower, and after you’d dried off you went rifling through the man’s closet for a sweater to throw on.

You plan had been to find the kitchen, but something glinting on the carpeted floor caught your attention. You bent down to pick it up, realizing it was the knife that Ransom had threatened Bryce with the night before. A frown fixed itself on your face when you let it settle in your hand. It wasn’t as heavy as you thought it would be, and something about it just felt off. Curious, you touched your finger to the tip a couple of times to confirm that you weren’t losing your mind. Once you were convinced you stood and made it a mission to find Ransom. If the smell of coffee and sounds coming from downstairs were anything to go by, that's where he’d be. Quietly you crept down the stairs, following the scent of coffee until you were standing at the edge of the kitchen and staring at Ransom’s bareback while he stood there pouring the dark bitter liquid into a mug. Clearing your throat you did your best to ignore the fact that he was shirtless with only a pair of low slung sweats covering him.

“I was wondering when you were going to wake the fuck up.” He greeted, making you roll your eyes as you silently moved closer to him with the knife still in hand and hidden in the too long sleeve of his sweater. You said nothing back, still frowning at him and to his credit he had the good sense to look confused for a moment. Your hand lifted, pulling the sleeve up to reveal the knife from last night, and without warning you jabbed it into Ransom’s side repeatedly. He jumped, yelping in surprise before catching your wrist and ripping the weapon away to toss onto the counter. “That tickled, don’t do that.”

“Are you fucking serious, Ransom! A fake knife?!” He didn’t look impressed with your yelling at him, in fact he just looked smug. “Was Bryce in any actual danger last night?” You hissed, jabbing him in the side with your finger until he batted your hand away and gave you a shrug.

“No, but you gotta admit it was funny watching him so angry and helpless.” Ransom answered, laughing when you threw your hands up in the air in exasperation.

“God! I can’t believe you! I did all that last night thinking I was keeping you from stabbing him and the whole time it was a fake knife. You’re an ass, Ransom. I fucking hate you.” You didn’t hate him, unfortunately. But you were pissed and he wasn’t making it any better by standing there looking completely unbothered and absolutely confident that what you were saying was bullshit.

“Funny, just last night you were saying you were mine, and calling me daddy.” He pointed out, and your eyes went wide before you quickly grabbed up the fake knife again and jabbed him with it. You let it clatter against the counter top again.

“Well I didn’t mean it, it was said under duress because you’re a fucking psychopath.” You spat, and almost immediately you could feel the shift in energy in the kitchen. Ransom’s bright blue eyes had darkened, and his body had gone tense as he crowded you back against the counter to cage you in with strong arms.

“Careful, sweetheart." His hand gripped you hard by the jaw and his gaze locked on yours. "Unless you want daddy to spend the rest of the morning taking you apart and reminding you that you are very much mine.”

[spookiekewchie]

Let Me Upgrade You

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Characters: Steve Rogers x woc!reader

Summary: The one where you get Steve to stop dressing like a grandpa.

Word Count: 884ish

Warnings: general language warning, suggestive language, ass grabbing (idk if that’s a warning)

A/N: Don’t look at me, I was inspired so now yall gotta deal with it LMAO. I wrote this on my phone so pardon any errors or typos please I barely proofread it. The divider is by @firefly-graphics

DO NOT repost or translate my work anywhere. Reblogs are always welcome, and let me know that you enjoy my fics.

"Steve, just trust me, you need to update your wardrobe." You called from the living room of his apartment. He was currently in the bedroom, turning this way and that in front of a mirror and he took in his appearance.

"Sweetheart, I really don't think this is necessary." He replied, finally stepping out of the bedroom so you could see him in the outfit you'd set out for him. Your eyes went wide, not expecting him to look that good in a simple white t-shirt, dog tags around his neck and resting against his broad chest. His usual casual dress pants had been traded for a pair of dark denim jeans. Not as tight as Bucky typically wore but enough that it didn't look like something a grandfather would wear.

"Babe, this is so necessary." You gave him a once over before shooing him towards the door. "Now put on the boots I got you so we can go, I'm sure everyone else is already at the bar by now.

Steve just sighed, a little smile on his lips as he got his shoes on and completed the look. He trusted you, and so far you hadn't steered him wrong. He was still religiously using the beard conditioner you'd gotten for him, after all. "Alright, final verdict?" He questioned grabbing his leather jacket and slipping on before he picked up his keys.

"Final verdict is we should leave now before I end up riding you in the doorway." You answered, bottom lip catching between your teeth at the sight of the whole look put together. Steve just chuckled, reaching out when you were close enough to palm your ass in his large hand.

"Now you know how I feel every fucking time you dress up for a night out." He whispered against your ear, voice low and gravelly as it sent a shudder through you. Clearly you'd done too good a job at getting your man right, because now all you wanted to do was text Nat and the girls that you weren't going to make it for the weekly Avengers get together at the bar.

Almost as if Steve could read your mind he was grabbing your motorcycle helmet and placing it in your hands before grabbing his own. Clearly he was going to make you suffer the same way you did him whenever you two went out together.

And suffer you did, barely able to keep your hands off him the entire time you were at the bar. Eventually though, the guys broke off to go shoot some pool. Leaving you with Maria, Natasha and Wanda as you caught up with them before deciding to play a round of darts.

It was all going so well until you noticed Natasha staring in the direction of the pool tables. You followed her gaze just in time to see Steve attempting to politely back away from some woman as she tried to hook a finger in his dog tags.

Oh hell no

You watched for a moment longer, before starting to make your way over with the girls behind you. Your eyes narrowed as she tried to press up against the super soldier who was telling her that he had a girlfriend. Close enough that you could hear her uttering something along the lines of "Well she shouldn't have let you out the house by yourself looking this good if she wanted to keep you." Clearly your plan to update Steve's closet had some unforeseen consequences. You should have accounted for desperate skanks taking it as an invitation to try their luck. No matter, you knew Steve would never step outside of the relationship, and you could deal with this tramp easily enough.

"Come on guys, you know the rules for bar night. No interviews, no drama, and no hoes." The last one was aimed directly at the woman who seemed to back off the moment you sidled up to Steve and his arm moved around you. She scoffed, clearly offended before the embarrassment had her cheeks going ruddy when she heard the snickers of Sam and Bucky behind her. You might have felt bad if she hadn't knowingly tried getting with a taken man. Instead you paid her no more mind as you let your attention shift from her to your man with a smirk.

"Relax sweetheart, she never stood a chance." Steve murmured, leaning down to press a possessive kiss to your lips. Your fingers curled into his dog tags as you pulled away, a smirk on your lips as you backed up a few steps with him in tow.

"Let's go, I'm suddenly in the mood for you to fuck me so hard all I can say is daddy." And that was all Steve needed to hear before shoving his pool cue into the stunned woman's grip so he could cage your hips with his hands. Clint choked on his beer, earning himself a hard slap to the back from Natasha as she damn near cackled.

"Sorry guys, gotta go. Duty calls." He told everyone, bright blue eyes darkening with lust as he spun you around and lifted you just enough that your feet were off the ground so he could rush the two of you out of the bar.

[spookiekewchie]

⛓kinktober 2021- hatefucking⛓

—cause this is torturous electricity between both of us...

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Characters: Chibs Telford x woc!reader

Summary: you hate him, but you love him.

Word Count: 2.1k+

Warnings: hatefucking, slapping (reader slaps chibs, he slaps her back), toxic dynamics, scratching, name calling (reader gets called a bitch, chibs gets called a bastard), crying, ANGST, unprotected sex (p in v), petnames (darlin), general language warning

A/N:  DAY THIRTEEN OF KINKTOBER IS HERE AND IT HURTS! So I wrote this while listening to Landfill by Daughter, and I hurt my own feelings, oops. Anyways, all mistakes are mine so pardon any errors or typos I'm sure I missed a few. The divider is by @firefly-graphics

DO NOT repost or translate my work anywhere. Reblogs are always welcome, and let me know that you enjoy my fics.

You sit at the bar, short skirt, tight shirt, your best pair of chunky heeled ankle boots, and your curls framing your face. Warm brown skin is on display, and you know you’re inviting trouble but it’s not like you can’t handle yourself if someone comes sniffing around. You hope someone does, maybe then you’ll have an excuse to let off the steam that’s been rising since you’d seen your man...ex man with some bimbo on his arm earlier that night. It’s your fault, you tell yourself, you shouldn’t have shown up to the clubhouse for the party. Even if you were invited by your best friend, it hadn’t been worth it seeing Chibs with that bitch Ima draped over him.

You’d stormed out as soon as you saw it, didn’t even catch the way that Chibs shoved her off of him to try and follow after you before remembering that you two weren’t together at the moment. All his doing, and as you sit there at the bar nursing a glass of whiskey your mind offers up plenty of reminders of all the bullshit reasons why Chibs had told you that things had to end. Some pig was trying to build a case against the club and he didn’t want to risk you getting caught up in the bullshit. Then there were the rival gangs that were trying to make a move and start something. You know Chibs would have hated to see you targeted because of him, but did he really think breaking up with you was any less of a target on your back? You scoff to yourself taking a deep sip from the glass and letting the alcohol burn its way down your throat. None of it matters because there’s still the wife he never told you about, and with everything else sounding like bullshit excuses you just assume the worst. The worst being that Chibs never really cared, that he’s still in love with the wife that refuses to leave Ireland. You don’t even consider that the reason he never told you about his estranged wife is because she’s just that. Estranged, and that the love he still has for her is that born out of respect for the fact that she’s the mother of his daughter and that’s as far as that love extends.

The glass slams down against the wood grain of the bar, and it draws the attention of the bartender who cautiously comes over. “I want another one.” You tell him, sliding the empty glass towards him. He flounders for a moment before sagging in relief when someone walks through the door that your back is to.

“Think you’ve had enough, darlin.” An accented voice says from behind you. You bristle, glaring at the bartender who’s clearly called your biker ex to come and get you from the bar before someone makes the mistake of trying to hit on you.

“I said I want another drink.” You say to the man in front of you, completely disregarded Chibs looming behind you. You can hear the way he sighs heavily at your stubbornness though, and it’s only a matter of seconds before you feel his hand circling around your upper arm and hauling you away from your bar stool. “Get off of me!” You hiss, glaring dangerously at the man that’s forcibly escorting you out of the bar while everyone else does their best to look in any direction but yours. You already know that no one is going to get involved, and that makes your blood boil as you’re shoved into the passenger seat of a car and Chibs stalks around to the driver's side.

He tries to talk to you as he drives you back to your place, but you’re too angry to trust yourself not to say something that you aren’t sure if you’d regret later. Part of you still cares about him, an even bigger part of you still loves him despite everything that you think is going on. You hate him too though, because no man should have the power to make you cry the way he does.

“You’re being childish.” Chibs says after the short drive to your place is done, and he’s dragged you inside. You honestly don’t know why he’s here or why he cares, but his words make your blood boil.

“And you’re being a controlling ass!” You finally snap, shoving against his chest when he gets too close to you. You don’t want the familiar scent of soap, leather, and whiskey washing over you. You don’t want the memories that it brings because as much as you hate him you still want him. Stalking off towards your bedroom you go to slam the door behind you but he only body’s his way through the doorway with a grunt. You whirl on him with a hard glare. “We aren’t together anymore, Filip.” You spit out, hissing at him like you might strike out with sharp claws. “You made sure of that when you decided to break things off. If I want to go out to a bar, and find me someone to fuck that’s none of your god damn business anymore.” You weren’t actually looking for a fuck, maybe a fight, but that’s not what’s important right now. What’s important is the hard flash of possession that shines in Chibs’ eyes when he hears your words. You know you shouldn’t get a thrill out of knowing he still feels that way, but you can’t help it.

“Don’t.” He warns, but you press the subject regardless.

“Don’t what? Don’t talk about letting someone else get at this tight pussy now that you’re out of the way?” You can see how your words are winding him up, but that’s the price he has to pay for his choices.

“Stop acting like a li’l bitch, ya hear me?”

You don’t even register the fact that you’ve slapped him until you hear the impact and feel the sting on your palm. “You’re a miserable old bastard, Filip. You don’t get to tell me how to act.” You fume, head snapping to one side a moment later when his ringed hand connects with your cheek. You fight back, you always do and that’s what he loves about you even if you’re pressing all his buttons right now. You claw at him, pointed acrylics thirsting to draw blood because it’s the only way you think you can hurt him at this point.

Even that won’t compare to how he’s hurt you, especially tonight. “You leave me, and the first chance you get you run to that no ass having, bleach blonde, bitch!” You hiss, lashing out and catching him on the cheek. If Chibs even feels the scratches you’ve left on his face he doesn’t seem to care, because he’s grabbing you roughly by the arms and slamming you back against the wall. “Just admit it, you don’t give a shit about me. You never have, because if you did Ima wouldn’t even be breathing on you.” He knows you hate that bitch, and you’re just about pissed enough to voice those negative thoughts that had led you to that bar this night.

The tears are burning behind your eyes again, and you refuse to let him see them fall. If Chibs is only here to make you feel worse than you already do then you won’t give him the satisfaction. And hurting you is what you’re sure he’s there to do, right up until the point that he’s wrapping his hands around the back of your neck and pulling you into a kiss that is full of passion, anger, frustration, and need. You don’t know how bad things have been for him, how you’ve haunted his waking and sleeping hours. He can barely sleep without you in the bed next to him, and sure he’s tried to find pleasure in other women but he’s always left wanting because they aren’t you and they don’t compare. He knows what you think, he knows that you’re hurting because you think his love for you was a lie. But he’s willing to let you believe that if it means you’re safe from all the shit that’s coming down on the club right now. And it’s not that he worries you’ll want nothing to do with him if you knew how big the mess they were in was. Chibs knows you’ll stand by him, and do anything in your power to protect him and the club even if it means putting yourself in the crosshairs of some overzealous agent trying to make a name for themselves or an enemy that has no problem hurting women just to get to the men. He’s not going to give you a choice in the matter because he knows what you’ll choose every time.

It’s why this moment is so maddening for him now, because he knows he shouldn’t be kissing you like this. He knows that he shouldn’t be ripping you out of your clothes while you pull his off of him in a frenzy. Chibs definitely shouldn’t be throwing you on the bed and taking advantage of how wet the brief tussle has gotten you, but before common sense can make him stop he’s sinking into you with a string of curses on his lips at how good you feel. Your nails bite into his flesh and drag down his back, your legs squeeze around his waist, urging him to move. You don’t want the sweet moment of him letting you adjust to the intrusion, you’d rather have the harsh sting as he fucks into you like he hates you. Anything softer and you might break down and you refuse to do that.

You know how to get what you want, the rougher you are with him the rougher he is with you. Every harsh drag of your nails over his back, and every mean yank of his hair has Chibs rutting into you like a beast of a man and it hurts just the way you need it to in order to let a couple tears spill down your cheeks without feeling like a weak bitch for a man that cast you aside. “Shit...just like that, fuck me just like that Filip.” You cry out with a sob of pained pleasure when his hips begin to snap into yours hard enough to crash the headboard against the wall.

When he goes to kiss you again you turn your head, pushing at his chest until he backs away with a growl and let’s you turn over onto your hands and knees. Chibs swallows down his pride, and gives you what you need instead. Lining himself up with your entrance to push into you from behind and he knows better than to try and take you slow and sweet like he wants to. Your hands clench into the sheets, every rough push of his cock into you sends you jolting forward just for you to throw your hips back hard against him. It’s frantic how the two of you use each other, and there’s no gentleness in it because you won’t allow it. You hate him, so you fuck yourself back onto his cock like you do until you shatter with a broken sob of pleasure.

His thrusts grow erratic when you clamp down around him, walls fluttering and pulsing around him as he chases his own high. You vaguely register the sound of your chanting the words “pleasepleaseplease” in between your moans and wails of desperate pleasure. You know he won’t last much longer, Chibs knows it as well but he’s determined to pull another one out of you before he lets himself cum. A rough hand snakes around your front, slipping down between your thighs to roughly circle against your clit until you’re cumming with a hard shudder that wracks your whole frame. He roars above you, spilling deep inside you and painting your walls with his spend as your body milks him.

“Get out.” You tell him shortly, pulling off of him and cupping your hand between your legs to catch his dripping spend before it can get on your sheets. You don’t give into the urge to curl up against him, or hold him. You just go to your bathroom, shut the door, and wash your hands clean of his spend before opening the medicine cabinet to grab a plan b pill. No one needs the complications of a child and a messy break up.

Sounds of Chibs getting dressed filter into the bathroom, and then you hear his heavy footfalls coming to a stop at the door of the bathroom. “Darlin look—”

“I hate you.” You say simply, sniffling as you avoid looking up into the mirror. You know what you’ll see. Tears, and heartbreak.

Chibs says nothing at first, but you can see his shadow lingering under the gap of the door. “No you don’t, darlin. It’d be easier if you did.”

[spookiekewchie]

kiss it, kiss it better baby

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Characters: Carter Baizen x black!reader

Summary: Take it on back boy, take it back all night...

Word Count: 2.1k+

Warnings: general language warning, carter being an idiot and saying shit he doesn't mean, some groveling from carter, facesitting, if he dies he dies ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (jk jk), hair pulling, squirting

A/N: DAY EIGHT OF KINKTOBER goes out to the homie @olyvoyl for enabling this filth. If there’s any errors or typos my bad, I gave it a look over before posting but I probably missed something knowing me.. The divider is by @firefly-graphics

DO NOT repost or translate my work anywhere. Reblogs are always welcome, and let me know that you enjoy my fics.

You already know who’s knocking at your door, cursing and frustrated because you’ve changed the locks and their key no longer works. Carter Baizen only has himself to blame, and you have half a mind to leave his ass standing outside your door looking like a sad puppy.

“Come on, baby girl. I know you’re in there.” You can hear him pleading from the other side, he sounds so needy and before you can think better of it your feet are padding across the floor to stand at the door. “Can we just talk about it, I know I fucked up. I know I shouldn’t have said what I said, you know you’re not just a tight set of holes to me.” Hearing him repeat what you’d overheard him telling his idiot trust fund prick friends just sets you off all over again and you quickly unlock the front door and yank it open with a glare on your face. Carter has the good sense to look guilty, especially when he can see by how red your eyes are that you were probably crying earlier.

“Then why the fuck did you say it?” You spit, tone venomous as you watch him carefully edge his way into your apartment. You know why he said it, trying to impress his stupid fucking friends and got his ass caught up in the bullshit and trying to fake the funk like he hasn’t fallen face first for you. He could have just said that when he was questioned about you and all the photos that have been circulating of the two of you together. Instead Carter had said that, making it seem like he’s still out here being a player and if that’s what he wants then you’re more than happy to let him go do just that. “Matter fact, why are you here Carter? I’m sure you got other hoes you can go fuck around with.” You snap, glaring as you slam your door shut and flip the lock.

Carter tries, really tries not to smile. He knows it’s not the time or the right move, you’re pissed at him and rightfully so. He’s been with you for more than a few months now and when he had the chance to claim you and dead any rumors that might be out there he got caught slacking. He knows you have every right to be going off on him, but the fact that you’re mad enough to go off on him at least means you’re talking to him. “Baby girl, you know I gave up all my hoes for you.” He says, half joking and half serious as he tries to get close enough to wrap you up in his arms. You dodge him like he has the plague and kiss your teeth with a roll of your eyes.

You don’t need him trying to distract you like that, not yet at least. It’s not easy though, he looks good just like he always does. Peacoat, dress shirt all buttoned up, expensive bespoke trousers and a pair of shoes that probably costs close to what your rent does. It also doesn’t help that he’s wearing the cologne that you picked out for him which means he smells absolutely delicious. Too bad you’re pissed off at him or you’d be letting him fuck you silly right about now.

“Nah see, because if you’re comfortable enough to say what you said about me to your friends, then how do I know you aren’t comfortable enough to have another bitch to run to?” Carter sighs at your question, shaking his head as he shrugs out of his coat and drapes it over the back of your sofa.

“Baby girl, please. Don’t do this, I know I fucked up. I knew it the second I said that shit, and I’d do anything to take it back.” He catches you by the waist before you can dodge him again, and the look you give him says very clearly that he better pick his words carefully. “I’m sorry, let me make it up to you?” He’s giving you that damn puppy dog look that usually gets him whatever he wants, but tonight you’re gonna demand more if he wants you to even consider forgiving him.

You scoff, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms over your chest. It’s probably not the best time for it, but Carter can feel his cock growing stiffer with each passing second. It’s an unfortunate side effect of seeing you mad, he can’t help it if he finds you sexy when you're all attitude and fire. There’s just something about the way you purse your lips, and jut your hip out, even the roll of your neck when you’re saying shit to him that he knows should piss him off gets him going. Honestly he’s thinking of nothing more than bending you over the back of the sofa and fucking the attitude right out of you until you’re saying that you forgive him. He licks his lips at the thought, and the action draws your attention and inspires a few thoughts of your own.

“You wanna make it up to me? You can start by getting on your knees and begging me to give you another chance to correct your fuck up.” You reach up, carding your fingers through his thick hair and applying pressure to the crown of his head. He thinks you’re joking, but when its clear that you aren’t he’s quick to say fuck his pride and let’s you push him down onto his knees.

“I’m sorry, you’re the only woman I wanna be with. You know that baby girl, I said some stupid shit the other night and I didn’t mean a word of it. I mean yeah you got the tightest pussy I’ve ever had the pleasure and the privilege to experience, but that’s not the only reason why I’m with you.” His hands slide up your calves until they rest against the back of your thighs. God he loves your thighs, he loves being between them, and he just can’t resist nipping at the supple brown flesh of one of them. “Baby girl, tell me what you want me to do to make it up to you. Let me show you how sorry I am for making you doubt me.”

Damn, he sounds so fucking desperate and it goes straight to your pussy. It doesn’t help at all when he starts to nuzzle at your mound through your yoga pants. “Forgive me, baby girl...please? I’ll do anything, I’ll buy you whatever you want, take you wherever you want, just…” he groans against you, and you can feel the vibrations through your yoga pants. You smirk, a brow arching high as you watch him grovel and beg you to just tell him to fix his fuck up. “Just tell me what you want from me, baby girl.” He breathes out, inhaling your scent through your clothing. You aren’t wearing anything under the tight pants, and you know there’s probably a little dark spot that’s growing more and more the longer Carter nuzzles and nudges his nose against you the way he is.

“Lay on your back.” You tell him simply, and you can see the confusion but he does it regardless and folds his hands behind his head as he enjoys the view of you standing over him. You smirk, hands moving to the waistband of your yoga pants to peel them down your legs and toss them away. Carter is practically salivating at the mouth at the sight of you, and he groans when you drag a single finger through your slick folds. “I’m going to ride that pretty face, until I cum all in your mouth. And then maybe, just maybe, I’ll consider what other ways I want you to make it right.” You tell him, dropping carefully to your knees over his face and teasing him for a moment by keeping yourself just out of reach before finally settling over his mouth. He doesn’t waste any time, his tongue dragging against you and pushing inside you as his hands come up to grip the juicy globes of your ass. You toss your braids over your shoulder, throwing your head back with a loud moan, your hips rocking against his sinful mouth.

He groans under you, letting you use him and caring very little about his own need to breathe when you’re so damn addictive. Carter will die in the pussy if he has to, at least he’ll go out after having the best damn last meal known to man. You’re vaguely aware of the human body’s need for oxygen though and as mad as you are you don’t want the idiot suffocating in your pussy. You lift off of him, smirking at the sound of discontent that leaves him when you do. “Don’t be a brat, Carter.” You tell him, lowering yourself against and hissing out a breath when you feel his lips sealing around your clit and sucking at the bundle of nerves. “Shit, that’s it. Show me how sorry you are for being an ass.” You gasp, suddenly feeling too hot in your oversized tee shirt. You pull it off clumsily, hands going to your breasts to tweak at your nipples to add to the pleasure you’re already feeling.

He laps at you, dragging his tongue flat against you and he takes a breath before he uses the grip he has on your ass to make you press down entirely on him. The moment you feel his tongue fucking into you you’re keening and calling his name, a hand dropping between your thighs to grab onto his hair and roll your hips against his mouth. His nose nudges against your clit with each move you make and you can feel your pleasure building to a boiling point. Carter’s tongue presses as deep as it can inside you, teases and swirls against your walls as he groans when you pull on his hair. You can feel the vibrations of it and it only pushes you closer to the edge.

“C-carter, that’s it…’m so close, don’t stop!” You cry out, and Carter has no intentions on stopping until he’s got you making a mess for him. He doesn’t even care that he’s starting to go a little red in the face, or that his lungs are starting to burn from the lack of oxygen. The only thing the insatiable man under you wants is to make you fall apart on his mouth. He doesn’t even complain when you begin to rock harder against his face, he knows that it means that you’re close and he just works harder and ignores the lightheadedness that’s starting to set in. You give another tug on his hair, and he hums against your sopping core, and you finally topple over the edge with a loud curse as you pull away from his mouth only to have him pull you back down greedy to have your juices fill his mouth as you cum with a gush.

Carter’s tongue drags over you again once he’s swallowed everything that he’s coaxed out of you, and you twitch away when his tongue flicks over your clit. “You still mad, baby girl?” He questions, sounding a little breathless but no less smug about how you’ve just fallen apart for him. You narrow your eyes, carefully sliding down his body until your hips are slotted over his. You’re still mad, just not as mad but there is something that will make you feel much better.

“Don’t move.” You order, reaching up to drag his coat closer to you so you can fish his phone out of the pocket. You reach for his hand, and he doesn’t bother trying to stop you from using his thumb to unlock it. He’s got an amused smile on his face as he watches you pull up his camera app, snap a picture of his wet face, mussed up hair, and sappy grin. You tap the screen a few times, grinning victoriously when you turn the screen around so he can see the picture of him that you’ve just posted to his Insta along with the caption “Bad boyfriends get rode hard, and put away wet.” And after that your @ just so there’s no confusion about who just soaked Carter’s pretty face.

“Promise I’ll be on my best behavior from now on, forgive me?” He settles his hands on your hips, slowly letting them inch higher as if he just can’t help but touch you.

“I might, but only after a few more orgasms.” You answer, smirking as you toss his phone onto the sofa.

“I’ll give you as many as you can handle, and then a few more, baby girl.”