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ladywuvly · 9 months ago

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barry sloane +au. +characters rec list!

masterlist. socials. recs.

head canons |

dbf!price boys your age by @captainfern dbf!price shotgunning his cigar by @inkbybambi dbf!price sugardaddy; part.2 by @faith369 bf!price headcanons by @empresskylo landlord!price moving out by @gatorlovebot

fics & imagines |

Honesty by @gatorlovebot - John doesn't like liars. Fixing your bad self-image by @sweetiecutie - You’ve been feeling a bit self-conscious lately, so John decides to fuck some sense into your head. Truth or dare? by @soapyghost Don't disobey by @jawabear - A risky move on the field leaves the captain less than happy with you. Steady girl by @jawabear - John loves when you help him trim his facial hair. And he loves what comes after as well. Genesis by @moondirti - It’s the first time you truly see him – this much of him, anyway, and he’s startlingly younger than you would’ve thought. The progression of a spite-fuelled relationship. Eye contact by @kungfubarbie101 Two is hardly a crowd by @grippingbeskar How to disappear by @fawnpires - After a failed attempt at a date, you unexpectedly find yourself in the hands of comfort of your dorm-mate, also known as your captain. Bartender by @sky-is-the-limit Rings by @glossysoap What’ve you done this time by @captainfern inspo; @bleuu-moon Just the tip, love by @floralpascal Home is the feeling of you by @maryangelex - You’re Price’s fiancé back home and it’s been months since you’ve seen him. He’s been on deployment and days have been getting lonelier the more days pass. Until you get home one night from work to a more than pleasant surprise. Taking his time by @empresskylo Neighborly advice by @sky-is-the-limit - Your neighbor price takes matters into his own hands to finish what your incompetent ex could never. all in the name of good neighborly solidarity, of course. Cigar smoke and good sex by @lxvvie Helping hands by @deathsimage Break the rules by @bonitanightmxres - Months after breaking up, you and price agree to a “no strings attached” relationship to fill the void in your lives—but it proves to be harder than anticipated when you both start to catch feelings again. How you deserve by @manmuncher777 Inspo; @sky-is-the-limit

series/multi part |

Never let me go 5/5 by @maryangelex - You worked at a coffeehouse, your life is filled with mundanity and you wouldn't change it for anything else. That is, until one crisp autumn morning, you meet the handsome Captain John Price and there’s an immediate, undoubted connection between the two of you. Neighborly 5/5 by @391780 inspo; @hereforthepedrofanfic - You and your neighbor, john price, slowly getting to know each other over the holidays. The rear window 5/5 by @391780 - spinoff! neighborly!pricepov stalker!price. Soft 9/9 by @391780 - Soap says dumb shit in a bar, Captain Price falls in love with a fat girl. Songs That Sound Like Sea-Foam 2/2 by @halcyone-of-the-sea - fisherman!price x mermaid!reader. Take me home, country road 17/20 by @ceilidho - 1800s!price. reader flees to his town where Price is the sheriff after a murder in her previous town. only to be mistaken for the mail order bride that Price just sent for ….and he’s not interested in hearing any of her excuses when she tells him that he’s got the wrong girl Callsign: zero 12/12 by @cass-the-mess - 2 years ago you saved John Price from an untimely death, only to disapear without a trace before he could thank you properly for getting him back home safe. You show up again 2 years later to help the task force defeat a new enemy. Marigold 7/7 by @captainfern - Price is your dbf and he is suddenly asking you to meet him upstairs during a party. pretty much anything from their masterlist!

disclamer! none of these are my works all credit to the authors. I just loved them so much figured I'd give them a shoutout!

#ladywuvly. recs.#captain john price #captain price #captain price x reader #captain price x female reader #captain price x y/n #captain price x you #captain john price x reader #captain john price x you #captain john price x female reader #captain price smut #captain price mw2 #captain john price smut #navi.#nsfwcontent #18+ mdni

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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 9 months ago

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Mz. Bitch's Masterlist

Started: 2/24/24 Last updated: 11/12/24

Due to inline link limits, please click on the story name to start reading and follow the chapter links. Thanks little darlings! Love y'all!

MARVEL

Bucky Barnes *One shots Sex Pollen My Alpha Got Nothing On You Part 2 Movie Night Please Come Back Vibranium & Stainless Steel Shy Dream Girl A little help from my friend Angry baby? Throw It in the Dishwasher Part 2 The Boss Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 I.T. Time to Heal A Very Cutesy, Very Demure Halloween Regrets & Apologies Quite a Workout Part 2 *Series Breaking the Class Ceiling **Finished Bucky Barnes is a middle class clerk. He needs to marry well to take care of himself and his father. Y/N Y/L/N is the heir to a millionaire fortune, who is blunt, no-nonsense, flirtatious, and looking for a partner. Everyone is vying for her hand. Can Bucky ever win? Pretty Pointy Smile **Finished Bucky was born different, and has been judged for it ever since. His father has had enough and sells him to the circus. The acceptance and love of his newfound family, and the beautifully fierce ringmaster, help him realize he’s not the monster everyone else made him out to be. Sugar Mama **Finished Bucky is overworked and struggling to get by. The bills are piling up and he’s consistently in the red with no end in sight. Y/N is a billionaire’s daughter, entrepreneur and philanthropist having a hard time finding true friends or love. She has a proposition for him. Marriage of Convenience **Finished Y/N’s father is gone, and he leaves it all to her. But in 1880s Oregon, she can’t own land without a husband. Under the threat of it all being taken away by a land hungry Sheriff, what’s a girl to do with no prospects? Maybe one of the cowboys on the farm can help… The Temptation **Finished Father Barnes is devout, steadfast, and undeterred by flirtatious congregants. So why does this fallen angel tempt him so? You cannot serve two masters. Will he choose God, or his heart? Norsemen & Anglo-Saxons **Finished Princess Y/N has a secret that her parents are ashamed of. A conquering Viking chief recognizes the gift she has. Will they be able to bring peace between warring people, and maybe find love along the way? Stranded **Finished Tossed overboard and lost at sea, Bucky washes up on an uninhabited island. Injured, lost and scared, with little to no wilderness training, he fights to survive. But is he really alone? The Fuck Up **Finished Bucky fucked up. A few times. Will his best friend ever be able to forgive him?

Naughty Nanny **Finished Bucky had a lovechild from a one night stand. He barely even remembered it, and was surprised to find a baby on his doorstep 9 months later. But one look at that little girl and he knew she was his and that he’d die for her. The only problem was, he knew nothing about babies, and being an Avenger meant he couldn’t just drop everything and be a dad full time. Then he found the perfect nanny…or so he thought. Run, pretty girl, run **Finished Even with the safeguards put in place after the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., the remaining Avengers find themselves on the run after the American government falls into disarray. The code word is sent, and they’re officially fugitives. Bucky makes a run for the safe house set up for emergencies like this where the Avengers are told to meet up, but on the way saves the pregnant agent turned payroll specialist that he was partnered with. Will they make it before she goes into labor? Or at all?

Pretty P.A. **Finished Y/N has been the personal assistant to the most influential and famous fashion model agency director in the industry for the past 13 years. They’ve decided to retire, and are leaving the agency in the hands of their protege and former model, Bucky Barnes. He seems plenty qualified, and Y/N is excited for a chance to work with him. Change always takes time, but the new insanely hot boss is distrustful and hesitant towards her. The Gorgon **Finished The village nearest the mountain by the sea has a generations-old tradition of offering sacrifices to the monster in the mountain to gain favor and keep its wrath away from the people. Every person starting from the age of 15 has to take a turn in making the journey up the mountain to the mouth of the cave once a year to drop off the gifts…and it’s a journey that some never come back from. Y/N took her turn when she was 15, and now the rotation has come back to her again. If the gift isn’t given by the autumn solstice, there’s no telling what harm the creature will wreak onto the people. With a seemingly insurmountable obstacle in her way, will she make it to save her and her people? Can a monster have a heart? Dreamboat **Finished Y/N, her brother Steve, and his best friend Bucky all moved out West for a new start after Y/N was almost caught up and hurt in a rival gang fight. Steve wasn’t in shape to fight in the war, but Bucky was drafted. While out West, Y/N finds herself in trouble again from the local bar owner. Steve is suddenly drafted for an experimental division of the army, but leaving Y/N alone isn’t an option. Bucky comes home needing help, and Steve comes up with a crazy compromise. Sweet Pumpkin **Finished Bucky is struggling with the dating world and knows that if he ever hopes to have a serious relationship, that he needs to get through his touch deprivation issues. It’s not that he doesn’t want to touch people, or them to touch him, but after decades of pain he doesn’t know how to accept physical intimacy from others, or how to give it himself. He hires Y/N, an intimacy coach and professional cuddler, who comes highly recommended. Will his heart be able to distinguish between a service given versus real love?

Yes Mama **Finished Bucky Barnes has made quite the name for himself in the underground mob boss world. But he’s not the boss. Just the face of the Family.

A Pirate's Life for Me **Finished Captain Bucky Barnes and his crew on the Armored Star are the most fearsome pirates in the known world. They’ve given the British fleet a run for their money as they try to free the enslaved and take from the rich, but they could have never guessed how the British empire would retaliate against them. When a new pirate ship appears and lays waste to all in its path, will Bucky and his crew be ready for the wrath of a woman scorned?

The Witch and The Doctor *Finished Bucky thought he could make a difference, getting a medical license and trying to change people’s minds. But the 1600s New World is a harsh place with cruel people. After being accused of witchcraft he makes a run for it, facing the dangers of the woods and the rumored witch that lives within them.

Peter Parker *One shots Emotional *Short Series Tasty **Finished Peter just wanted to have one night of fun. Then that night of fun almost killed him. Now it won’t stop haunting him. And he’s loving it.

*Series The Young Duke **Finished Queen Y/N is running out of time. At 35 years old she has to marry and make an heir to the throne, but all suitors so far have been unsatisfactory in one way or another. Duke Peter Parker is the young Duke of Queensland, and his family is on the brink of ruin due to his parents’ failures and famines throughout the years. He needs to find an advantageous marriage to save his family’s estate, so when an invitation from the Crown comes, he jumps at the opportunity. Will it be a match?

Steve Rogers *Oneshot Sex Pollen

*Series My Queen **Finished Steve Rogers is the newly inherited Duke of Brooklyn, struggling to fix the mistakes of his parents while enduring an overbearing, matchmaking mother. He has no intention of anything romantic in his future, but will a forced love connection with the Queen change his mind?

Stucky *Oneshot Three's Company

*Series Emerald Hallow **Finished Steve Rogers wants to move on. He wants to forget Peggy, and dive into the 21st century. But this man of the past doesn’t know how to navigate being an Alpha in a modern world of skittish Omegas. He prides himself on his self control, never wanting to harm or scare them, until something just smells too damn good. And he's not the only one who smells it...

Actors

Sebastian Stan *Series A Patient Man **Finished Sebastian swore to never fall for another co-star again. Until Y/N drops into his life.

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k-nayee · 27 days ago

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Between Faith and Flesh Grotesquerie x Midnight Mass

wc: 2.8k a/n: incase it was unclear, this is a little cross-over between Grotesquerie x Midnight Mass while also being an Actor!AU. Might be a lil confusing but wanted to make something new lol

Traveler M.List

ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ

"Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything....James 1:2-4."

The familiar warmth of the chapel enveloped you as you delivered the final lines of your morning homily, your voice calm yet resonant in the quiet space.

Sunlight filtered through the modest stained-glass windows, casting soft hues of gold and amber across the worn pews where Crockett Island's tight-knit congregation sat.

The scent of salt and damp wood lingered faintly in the air—a reminder of the sea just beyond the church walls.

Your gaze swept across the group, catching the faces you had come to know so well over the past year.

The mayor's daughter Leeza Scarborough sat in the front row, wide eyes attentive on you as she folded her hands neatly in her lap.

Even Sheriff Hassan stood near the back as his son Ali sat near him listening intently, despite knowing how outdated many were to his Islamic faith.

These people, they had become your family in a way—this island, with all its quiet mysteries, had grown on you.

You closed your sermon with a passage on resilience, something that had always resonated with you—like how faith, similar to the sea surrounding them, could be both steady and tumultuous.

"We find strength not in the absence of struggle, but in how we rise after the waves pull us under." Your words hung in the air for a moment, met with soft nods and murmurs of agreement from the congregation.

"Let us pray," you began, your hands resting gently on the altar.

As you spoke your thoughts wandered briefly, like they often did, to Riley Flynn—a name you had known only through the accident that had first led you here.

His absence was a constant echo in the small populace community, felt even when it wasn't spoken aloud.

As the congregation stood to leave, you lingered near the altar to exchange kind words with those who came up to you.

A soft word here, a warm touch on the shoulder there—each gesture felt like a testament to how far you'd come.

This role, unexpected as it was, had become more than just a position. It was your calling.

"You've really made a place for yourself here," Anne said quietly, her expression sincere as she approached.

"Thank you Mrs. Flynn," you replied, offering her a gentle smile. "Means a lot coming from you."

And it did. Especially knowing how much of the weight of her son's sins pressed on her mind.

It still surprised you sometimes how much the town had accepted you. Even when being the first ordained woman pastor—something that should have sparked outrage, especially in a small traditional community—the people had welcomed you with open arms.

Or at least most of them had.

The familiar sound of heels clicking sharply against the stone floor caught your attention.

Bev Keane.

She always had an aura of cold disapproval, her gaze flickering over you with barely concealed distaste.

"Another lovely service I'm sure," she said, compliment laced with her usual acidity. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she continued, "But I wonder if perhaps next time you might include more...traditional teachings? Some of the congregation finds your progressive messages a bit, well, out of step."

Her words stung, but you kept your expression calm refusing to rise to her bait.

Bev had never approved of your leadership from the start—the idea of a woman in your position, however temporary, was something she barely tolerates.

With every sermon you gave, every interaction with the townsfolk that went well, her bitterness seemed to deepen.

"I'll take your suggestion under consideration," you kept your tone firm. There was no point in arguing with Bev directly—it would only lead to more confrontation.

One thing you had long since learned about Bev's resistance was that it was more about control than doctrine.

She craved the power that came with influence over the church, and your very presence threatened that.

Bev's smile didn't reach her eyes. "Of course. Well I'll leave you to clean up. God knows there's always work to be done."

With a stiff nod she turned on her heel and marched away, her presence lingering even after she disappeared through the doors.

As the last of the congregation departed, the chapel fell into a serene silence once again.

You exhaled softly, feeling the weight of the morning settle on your shoulders.

Despite the support of the community, moments like these reminded you of how precarious your position was.

You knew she was waiting for any excuse to discredit you—an outsider who had stepped into a role she believed was hers by right.

Busying yourself by tidying up, your hands smooth the fabric of the altar cloth as you cleared the space for the next service.

The chapel, now empty, felt both peaceful and solemn.

It was in these quiet moments that you often found yourself reflecting on the journey that had brought you here—from your small-town upbringing, to your studies, to this remote island where you now stood as the first ordained woman pastor.

The soft chime of your phone broke the stillness. Pulling the device from your pocket, you faintly smile at the name on the screen. Nick.

The message was short but familiar—a photo of him post-workout, his face flushed with exertion with a cheeky grin plastered across his face.

Nick: Finishing up my workout. Just wanted to give you an update :)

Your could feel the warmth creeping up your neck.

You weren't sure why you were smiling so much—after all, it was just Nick being...Nick. Friendly, teasing, always with that infectious charm.

But somehow, the way your eyes lingered on the photo for a beat too long made you acutely aware of something deeper. Something you weren't sure you should be feeling.

Shaking your head slightly, you reply back.

____: Glad to see you're keeping busy!

You hit send, already imagining the smirk he'd have seeing your response.

As soon you tuck away your phone, intent on finishing the cleanup, another buzz came almost immediately.

Nick: Hope you weren't doing anything unholy with that picture of me ;)

The heat had spread to your face and a startled laugh slipped past your lips.

You quickly type back.

____: Behave Nicholas. I'm a pastor remember?

You knew he was just being playful, but it didn't stop the way your heart skipped slightly at the implications.

Unholy. The word reverberated in your mind longer than it should have.

Before you could dwell too much on it, another text came through.

Nick: Sure sure I believe you ;) Anyways got a surprise for you

Your fingers hesitated over the keyboard, curiosity piqued.

____: A surprise? What kind?

Nick: You'll see. Just finished that project I told you about. Check your email when you get home. And no peeking. You promised

The reminder made you chuckle. ____: Fine fine I'll wait. It better be good especially with all this mystery!

You added a playful emoji at the end, the excitement clear in your message.

His response was immediate, and you could practically hear his voice.

Nick: Oh it's good. Don't worry I know you're going to love it.

You smiled at the screen, shaking your head at his confidence. Of course he'd know.

The faint echo of your steps on the wooden floor snapped you back to the present, making your thoughts drift back to his arrival, how it had all begun.

It was almost a year at the time when Father Pruitt had left on his pilgrimage, leaving you in charge of the church—a transition you hadn't anticipated but had eventually embraced.

And just as you were starting to find your footing, Nicholas Chaves had appeared, adding a new dynamic you hadn't expected.

Before he arrived to Crockett Island, you recall the unexpected email you received: a simple inquiry from the actor who was looking to deepen his understanding of priesthood for an upcoming role.

He wanted to shadow someone in the clergy, someone who could give him an authentic insight into the life of a pastor.

And he'd heard about your rather unique position on the island...

You of course were slightly taken aback by his openness and easy way he'd talked about his work.

It wasn't every day someone like Nick came knocking, but you had agreed mainly from intrigue of the whole situation.

Even when Bev became immediately suspicious of him—practically interrogating him when he first arrived—the rest of the town welcomed him warmly, charmed by his easygoing nature.

"Another distraction," she'd muttered once when Nick had offered to help you carry boxes of hymnals inside one time. "This is a church not a social club."

Her words always came with that same bitter edge, though by now you'd learned to brush them off.

He stayed in Father Pruitt's old house with you during that time in one of the spare rooms.

As you finished locking up and made your way toward the small home, your thoughts drifted back to him.

You never planned on feeling so affected by him. Yes he was charming, but it was more than that—there was something about him that drew you in even when you tried to resist it.

And it wasn't just his looks—though you couldn't deny the way your breath occasionally caught when he smiled at you in that boyish way of his.

No. It was his presence. The way he carried himself—confident yet curious, never shying away from asking questions about your work and sermons, about faith itself.

He was genuinely interested, even if he wasn't fully immersed in it like you were.

In all, conversations with Nick were easy; late-night talks often ended up stretching longer than intended as you discussed everything from theology to the little absurdities of life.

And yet despite the growing comfort, there had always been a tension simmering beneath the surface.

The first time you felt the it was when he'd sat in on one of your late-night study sessions, helping you prep for Sunday Mass.

His quiet attentiveness as he listened to you practice, his casual lean against the doorway as he watched with a smile tugging at his lips.

Now, as you made your way up the steps, you wondered what this surprise of Nick's could be.

You pushed the front door open, the familiar scent of wood and old books greeting you.

It was home now—at least for the time being. Letting out a sigh, you set your bag down and make your way to the bedroom.

Changing your robes and veil into a more comfortable sleepwear, you grab your laptop and settle into bed.

There in your inbox, you find a sent email from him.

Three video files, each with a timestamp of about an 50 minutes. The subject line read simply: For You.

You frowned in confusion but quickly clicked on the first one. The video loaded, and as it played, the familiar face of Niecy Nash popped up on the screen.

A soft laugh escaped you—a TV show? It wasn't what you were expecting, but you were intrigued.

As the episode unfolded, you were drawn into the storyline.

It was refreshing actually, seeing a concept that brushed against the edges of a religion that's intertwined with your own daily life.

By the second episode you were completely hooked. You'd grown attached to the characters, loving the way they navigated this warped world of morality and sin.

The storyline itself was intense and unpredictable in how it blended the very faith you preached into something so viscerally raw.

But then your heart leapt a little as Nick—or rather, Father Charlie finally appeared on screen.

You smiled, unable to resist snapping a picture of the scene and sending it to him with a simple teasing text.

____: Look who just showed up on my screen.

Your phone buzzed almost instantly, but you ignored it.

You were too caught up in watching him; your eyes tracing the way he moved, the way his expression shifted with every word.

It was surreal watching him play a priest when just a few weeks ago, he had been standing beside you in the church helping with the altar cloths.

Every close-up of his face had your heart doing an odd little flip. You'd shared conversations with that face, shared jokes and moments of comfort.

The goofy smile on your lips was hard to suppress as you watched him banter with Sister Megan, the two having a light giggle over stolen fries.

You couldn't help but draw parallels between the man on the screen and the man you had grown close to—the actor who had been nothing but kind, thoughtful, and, admittedly, a little flirtatious.

And then the scene change.

The camera panned across a dimly lit, sparsely furnished room. Your eyes narrowed, focusing in on the figure sitting at the edge of a bed.

It was Father Charlie—his broad, bare back flexing as he sat, hunched slightly. The room was silent except for his soft labored breathing.

You watch with growing confusion as his breathing deepens.

A soft sound escapes him—a low moan—and suddenly, the atmosphere in the room shifts entirely.

Your eyes widened upon realizing what you were seeing. Father Charlie is pleasuring himself.

The sounds of his quiet sighs fill the room, and you freeze as you try to process what you're watching.

The camera caught it all: the soft sighs, the slow measured pace of his hand, the quiet moans that grew more strained with every movement.

You felt your breath hitch, heat creeping up your neck as you watched too stunned to look away.

You know it's just a show—it's just acting—but seeing Nick, someone you know, in such an intimate and vulnerable moment...it shakes you.

Your body feels hot, heart pounding as Father Charlie quickens his pace, his breath becoming more erratic, moans growing louder.

A strange warmth unfurled in your chest that you immediately tried to suppress.

It felt wrong to watch this—wrong to feel anything about it.

Your fingers tremble as you reach for your laptop, the desire to pause or stop the episode battling with the inexplicable pull to keep watching.

And then it changed again.

The camera cuts to him standing at a basin, his back to the facing you once again, the muscles in his back flexing under the low light.

You blink rapidly as he begins to wash his hands, the sound of the water almost deafening in the silence.

That's when you notice it—the chaps. He's wearing bottomless chaps, the skin of his thighs and backside completely bare.

"Sweet baby Jesus," you whisper, hands shaking as you press a hand to your mouth in attempt to contain the heat that spreads across your face.

It wasn't over.

Father Charlie moved toward a small wooden box, opening it with a reverence that made your stomach twist.

He reached inside and pulled out a flogging whip—a thick, multi-tailed instrument of punishment.

His expression is solemn, his lips moving in silent prayer as he prepares the whip, his fingers brushing reverently over the strips before raising the instrument of self-punishment.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you watch, unable to tear your eyes away as Father Charlie strikes himself.

The sharp crack of the whip fills the room and you flinch at the sound.

Each lash is deliberate. His body jerks with every strike, a soft grunt escaping him with every hit.

His whispered prayers mix with the sounds of his punishment, the intensity of the scene almost unbearable as it goes on, each crack of the whip sending a shiver down your spine.

It's too much. You couldn't take it anymore.

Your hand shot out, scrambling to close the laptop with a thud. For a moment you couldn't move.

Your body felt both heavy and weightless at the same time, suspended in the strange space between what you knew and what you had just witnessed.

The room around you suddenly felt too small, too close.

Shakily, you brush a few stray strands of hair from your damp forehead, trying to steady yourself.

You were a pastor—dedicated to God, to the people you served. You weren't supposed to feel like this.

Closing your eyes tightly, you try to will the feeling to go away and dissipate like the smoke from the candles you had blown out earlier in the church.

But the heat in your face, the trembling in your hands, didn't fade.

You felt as though you had been thrust into a battle between your devotion to God and the temptation of something far more dangerous—something you could no longer ignore.

The dim screen of your phone in your peripheral catches your attention.

Hesitant, you picked it up, and your stomach drops at the sight of Nicholas's message.

Nick: What do you think?

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miazetomer · 20 days ago

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Heartless | Rafe Cameron x pogue(ish)!fem!reader (Part VII)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, angst, fluff, smut, alcohol use, drug use, mention of abortion, takes place during season four, the usual

Summary: You were back on Kildare after two years. You were able to finish your business degree at UNC Chapel Hill in just two years after earning enough college credits in high school. But, you came back as a force to be reckoned with. You had your own very successful development company which just so happened to be Cameron Development’s newest competition. Two years later and you’re still finding ways to get under Rafe’s skin.

prev next

♡♡♡

You stepped off your family’s private jet at the Kildare airport. The strong smell of salt and sea water hitting you like a train. The last time you were at this airport you saw your then-boyfriend, Rafe Cameron, kill Sheriff Peterkin.

Two years earlier…

“What did you do Rafe?” You said breathlessly as you ran into the Cameron estate.

“I-I had to, baby, you saw what was happening. She was gonna get my dad.” Rafe said, pacing around. He looked crazy. You always knew there was something different about your boyfriend, but you didn’t think he was capable of murder. “I-I needed to save my dad.”

That was the last time you saw him. After that, you stayed in The Cut, didn’t go anywhere you knew where he would be, you stopped helping John B and JJ with the hunt for the gold, you basically became a recluse until you left for school.

Everyone had kept you up to date on their adventures. You even let them stay at your family’s house in Barbados when they needed some place to stay.

After settling in at your mom’s house, you quickly made the drive to the newly established Poguelandia.

“Y/n.” Sarah cheered with a smile, running over to you. You quickly hugged her as the two of you jumped up and down, smiles plastered across your faces. It felt like suddenly you were sixteen years old again, seeing your best friend after you were in Europe for the summer.

You thought you were going to cry when you saw your brother. You left Sarah’s side and ran over to him, practically tackling him to the ground as you hugged him.

“You know, I expected the first hug, but the second one is fine too.” JJ joked, returning your hug. His voice was like music to your ears. It broke your heart to leave him here on Kildare, but you needed to get out of here, away from everything and everyone.

“You are never hunting for gold, ever again.” You warned, pointing your finger at him. “I’ve never been so worried in my life when my mom called to tell me you were a missing person. She came and got you right? From the airport.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He answered, nodding his head. “She actually let me crash at her place for a while.”

“Good.” You smiled before walking over to John B.

“You know when you left I was pretty certain you were never coming back.” John B said as he hugged you. “You had me pretty worried.”

“Never say never, JB.” You returned the hug with a smile before moving over to hug Kie and Pope. “You must be Cleo.” You smiled towards the girl who you didn’t recognize but had heard plenty about.

Everyone hung out in the backyard and you told them all about your company that was quickly taking off and they told you about the business they started in the backyard.

“So, like, do you have an assistant now?” Sarah asked, knocking her shoulder against yours.

“I do.” You answered, cringing a little. You never imagined having your own assistant, you always thought it was pretentious, but when things started piling up, you realized quickly you would need one.

When the pogues told you about what happened at the Enduro, you felt a fresh wave of anger surge through you. The type of anger you hadn’t felt in a long time. The type of anger only one person has ever been able to bring out in you, Rafe Cameron.

“I’ll see you guys later.” You muttered, standing up and pulling your car keys out of your jean shorts pocket.

You raced to the Cameron estate, typing in the gate code that you had had memorized since you were a kid. You quickly pulled into the driveway once the gate opened and got out of your car, slamming the door shut. You thought about just storming in there like you owned the place, but instead you took a second and knocked on the door politely. You knew that if you pounded on the door, no one would open it, probably terrified.

“Y/n.” Sofia said softly when she opened the door.

“Where is he?” You were fuming. Sofia didn’t know a lot about you, but she knew when you were angry, not to try to stand in your way.

“H-He’s upstairs in his bathroom.” She answered and you pushed past her, before running up the stairs.

You pushed open the door to his bedroom, a room you spent countless nights and hours in, but before you let yourself reminisce, you walked into his bathroom. The bathroom was steamy, Rafe obviously just got out of the shower as he wrapped a towel around his waist. He looked up at the sound of the door opening expecting Sofia, but his smile dropped when he saw you. His eyes raked over you, he thought you looked good, older, more mature. But when his eyes landed on your face, he already knew you were pissed.

“Y/n.” He said cautiously.

“Are you crazy?” You walked over to him and pushed him, but Rafe barely moved. “You could’ve killed him.” Another push. Rafe almost killing JJ wasn’t the only reason you were pushing Rafe, it was like every emotion you had suppressed about Rafe was suddenly bubbling to the surface and threatening to spill over. “Seriously, do you ever think? You told me in that letter you wrote that JJ would be off limits, no matter what.”

“You read my letter?”

“Yes, I read your twenty page letter! But, that doesn’t change anything, Rafe, you still almost killed my fucking brother!”

“Let’s not be overdramatic, I tapped his bike and he fell.”

“Really? You just tapped it? Is that why you both went flying?”

“Oh, I see why you’re so upset, you were worried about me.” Rafe smirked down at you, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Worried about you? Please, Rafe, I haven’t worried about you in two years.” You scoffed, crossing your own arms. But the truth was, you did worry about Rafe. Not about his physical well being, but his sanity. You worried about it every day since he killed Peterkin.

“Right, and that’s why you didn’t send those flowers when my dad died?”

“I-I didn’t send any flowers.” You were lying straight through your teeth. Of course you sent flowers when you heard Ward had died, you wanted Rafe to know you would always be there for him without him knowing it was you.

“Really? Y/n, your signature flower was in the bouquet.” Your face faltered a little, you knew you shouldn’t have put those stupid flowers in the bouquet, but you wanted to do something that showed it was you, even if Rafe didn’t realize it. You never would’ve thought he would remember what your favorite flower was.

“I’m not here to talk about what happened almost two years ago, Rafe, I’m here to talk about yesterday.”

“What happened, happened, y/n, there’s nothing you can do to change it.”

“No, but you can apologize.”

“Apologize? To a pogue?”

“Look, I’m giving you until the end of the night to apologize and if I find out you didn’t, I will ruin your life, Cameron.”

As you turned to leave, Rafe called out saying, “I’ll see you later tonight, Thornton.”

That was your breaking point. The idea that Rafe would show up at your homecoming party with the help hanging off his arm pissed you off to no end. Every emotion you felt coming back here was boiling over and you picked up the closest thing to you, throwing it towards Rafe’s head. But, Rafe ducked before the glass hit his head, smashing against the wall.

With that you turned on your heel and walked out of the Cameron estate, driving just next door to start getting ready for your homecoming party.

“Everything okay?” Sofia asked Rafe, standing in the doorway to the bathroom.

“Everything’s fine.” Rafe responded, a little snappy. “Just an old friend saying hi.”

“An old friend? Or an old girlfriend?”

Sofia knew all about your relationship with Rafe. She would see the two of you at the club, golfing together or playing tennis, grabbing lunch or getting drinks. She saw how happy the two of you looked, until you stopped showing up one day. No more golf or tennis games, no more lunch, no more drinks before going to get dinner at an expensive restaurant. No more you.

That was when she swooped in. She attempted to put Rafe back together piece by piece, but it was like none of the pieces fit each other. Eventually, she just accepted she would never get to experience the love he had with you for herself, just happy that she had Rafe to herself for the time being. In the back of her head she knew you would come back one day, but she just kept that thought locked up, ready to deal with it when the time came. But, now the time has come and she doesn’t know if she’s ready to deal with losing Rafe.

♡♡♡

You walked through your childhood home’s backyard, with a glass of champagne, saying hello to everyone you came across. This was your chance to network on Kildare, gain the clientele and investors you really wanted and needed to start building on Kildare. Your eyes darted over to a table by the house and there he stood, talking to people you had just chatted up. You excused yourself from the table you stood at and made your way over, downing your glass of champagne before putting it on a server’s tray.

“The woman of the hour.” An older man said with a smile, raising his glass towards you, you returned the smile with your own, followed by a quick hello.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything important.” You laughed politely. “I was just wondering if I could borrow Mr. Cameron here just for a moment.” You put your hand on Rafe’s bicep, looking up at him with the fakest smile you could muster.

“Of course.” The older man responded with a small nod of his head.

“Thank you.” You excused the two of from the table, dropping your hand from Rafe’s arm as you walked in front of him, leading him to the porch, away from everyone so you could have a private conversation. You would’ve gone inside, but the woman of honor could not be seen sneaking inside during her own party, much less with her ex-boyfriend.

“Keep smiling.” You started while plastering a polite, fake smile on your face. “I don’t need them thinking something is wrong. What are you doing here?”

“I told you I was coming.” Rafe smirked down at you, shoving his hands in his dress pants pockets.

“I didn’t think you’d actually show up.”

“I’ll always show up for you.”

“Where’s your girlfriend?” You asked, ignoring Rafe’s comment.

“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“I don’t know, Rafe, I think you do and I think you’re scared to admit it because you’re scared of what people are going to say when they find out you’ve been sleeping with the help.”

“Sofia is not the help.” He scoffed.

“Really? Because if I remember correctly she used to make us drinks at the club all the time. I mean we would be there and she would be there, but she would be behind the bar serving everyone drinks. Or if we were playing a round of golf she would always be a cart girl, you know now that I think of it, she was always around, wherever you were at the club, she was there ready to help. Sounds like the help to me, oh and a bit stalker-ish. Also, if you could tell her to get off the balcony, she’s dampening the mood of my party.” You pointed to Rafe’s balcony where Sofia stood, scanning the crowd for him, looking like a starved, sad puppy. You grabbed a champagne flute off of a server’s tray and walked back out into the crowd before Rafe could say anything else.

“Ms. Thornton.” A blonde woman said with a smile, stopping you in your path. You recognized her, you just couldn’t place it. “How nice to see you, welcome back to Kildare.”

“Mrs. Robinson.” You greeted her with your own polite smile. “Thank you, it’s so wonderful to be back, I forgot how nice everyone is.”

“You know, I heard you’ve become one of the leaders in the development business lately. I have a fantastic business opportunity for you, if you would love to hear it sometime.”

“I love business opportunities, let me give you my number.”

♡♡♡

“So, did Rafe, ever like apologize to you for knocking you off your bike at the Enduro?” You asked your brother as you sat across from him on your boat. You decided everyone deserved a break from working so hard and invited them on your yacht for the day.

“No.” JJ answered with a confused look on his face. “Why would he ever apologize for doing something like that?”

“No reason.” You said, looking off towards the water. “I have to make a call.”

♡♡♡

You were at the club playing a game of golf when one of the managers came out to talk to you.

“Nice swing, Ms. Thornton.” He said with a smile, his hands behind his back.

“What’s up, James?” You asked, putting your 9-Iron back in your bag.

“You asked me to come get you if Mr. Cameron showed up, he’s here.”

“Thank you, James.” You smiled, pulling your gloves off as you walked inside. You walked outside the front doors to where Rafe stood with his arms crossed.

“Seriously, you had my club membership revoked?” Rafe asked.

“You know that’s the nice thing about my step-dad owning the country club, I can do whatever I want.”

“You think that this is ruining my life?” Rafe chuckled, looking down at you.

“Oh no, this is just the start. I mean what will everyone say when they find out Rafe Cameron, the owner of Cameron Development, got kicked out of the country club? I mean all it takes for you to become an outcast is for me to tell one person that you got kicked out for assaulting the owner’s prized step-daughter.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“You’re right I won’t, if you apologize.”

“You’d be willing to ruin someone’s life because of a race?”

“No, Rafe, I’m willing to ruin your life because of all the other bullshit you’ve pulled with my brother and friends.” You said, glaring up at Rafe. “It’s about time someone held you accountable for your actions and if the cops won’t, then I will.” You added with a shrug. You went to walk away, but Rafe grabbed your elbow, pulling you back.

“I am not that person anymore, y/n. You can’t hold that shit against me.”

“You mean I can’t hold you almost drowning Sarah, or shooting her, or the countless times you beat the shit out of Pope, against you?”

“And what if everyone found out about the abortion you got?”

“Keep your voice down.” You said through gritted teeth, your face a mixture of hurt and embarrassment. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to throw that in my face. You know that was one of the hardest decisions of my life.”

When you and Rafe first started dating you had missed a couple of your birth control pills. You were so wrapped up in applying to colleges and scholarships that you thought it wouldn’t hurt to miss one or two every time you turned off the alarm, saying you would take them later. But, before you knew it, you had missed a week.

Luckily, with your form of birth control you still experienced your periods, so you knew something was wrong when you missed your next period. You had chalked it up to stress, but when it didn’t come the next week or the week after that, you decided to buy a couple tests. When they all came back positive, you panicked, you didn’t know what to do. This wasn’t part of your plan.

You thought the decision would be easy, but when the day of your appointment came and you sat in the chair as the doctor went over everything with you, you thought about everything. The color its hair would be, if it would have your eyes or Rafe’s eyes, if it would be good at sports. But, then you realized that’s all it was to you, an it.

After the abortion, you laid in bed for a week, unable to do anything. You didn’t regret it, but the thought that you had just gotten rid of a part of you and Rafe was tough for you to deal with. Rafe wasn’t upset, or mad, or disappointed, he was understanding. He laid in that bed with you for a week. He helped you shower, he helped you with your homework as best as he could, he helped you study for your tests. He didn’t leave your side until he was certain you were okay.

“Apologize to JJ and I won’t say anything to anyone, you’ll get your membership back, and we can go back to pretending like we don’t know each other just like the last two years.”

“I’ll apologize to your brother, but I’m not just gonna walk around here pretending I don’t know you.”

“I don’t know what you want from me Rafe. Do you really expect me to forget all the atrocious things you did to my friends?”

“No, I just want you to know I’m not that guy anymore. I’m trying to do better, I’m in therapy, I got off coke, Cameron Development is better than ever.”

“Rafe, all of that is great, but I can’t just ignore everything. I have a game to finish.”

With that you walked back inside the club, leaving Rafe standing outside.

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joansjusticiar · 3 months ago

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Consecration | Grayson x F!Reader

Summary: Grayson gets needy after a certain someone flirts with you at a gala. Or, service top! Grayson with a breeding kink. 18+

Word count: 2.8k

A/N: Finally finished my @arcanefans4gaza piece for @linbeifongismywife . Hope you enjoy!

Every annum Piltover holds a gala, inviting ambassadors and rulers from every nation; a way to enhance trade and strengthen relationships Grayson has told you once. Grayson was invited solely due to her status and sheriff and you, her wife, invited as her plus one. She had bought you a deep, sapphire blue dress for the occasion- a perfect complement to her suit of the same shade.

You had lost Grayson somewhere in the crowd a little while ago, it wasn’t as if your presence would be missed by the elite, so you enjoyed the moment of solitude by the bar. Your eyes watched the scarlet liquid swirling around in your glass, before raising to scan the room for your lover once more.

Although, your search was disrupted faster than it had started when a rich voice greeted you. You turned, then, to peer at the woman who had disturbed you. A burly woman twice your size towered over you, dark eyes watching you, sizing you up as if you were mere prey. She grinned at you, a lazy, wolfish grin that had you faltering slightly.

“Hello. And you are?” You questioned lightly, hoping she wouldn’t get offended at you not knowing her name.

“Medarda.” She replied, extending her hand towards yours. Although her hands were more like that to a bear's paws rather than human. “Ambessa Medarda.”

“Ah right. You must be Councillor Medarda’s mother?” How could she not be, they radiated the same energy.

“That’s right. And you?”

“Oh, nobody of importance really. I’m here with my wife.” You explained, hoping that the mention of your wife would get her to back off.

“I don’t see your wife anywhere. What kind of woman leaves a pretty lady, such as yourself, all on her lonesome?”

You glanced around the room once more, desperately trying to spot Grayson amongst the masses of people. Her eyes locked onto yours, smiling slightly before her gaze locked onto Ambessa. Grayson’s eyebrows furrowed slightly, not enough for anybody to notice, but you weren’t just anybody.

“Interesting.”

“What?” You replied, forgetting your manners for the time being. Your patience with the warlord was swiftly thinning. Why couldn’t she just take the hint that you weren’t interested?

She just hummed at you, the corners of her mouth lifting up into an all knowing smirk. You scoffed slightly at her antics. How could one woman be so insufferable? Grayson was making her way towards you, parting the sea of bodies that kept you separated with her presence alone.

You couldn’t help but smile softly at your wife’s approaching form; believe it or not, you had missed her dearly in the mere moments that you were apart. Her hair had recently been cut, falling just above her the tip of ears, the odd strand of grey contrasting against her mass of inky hair, in a way that somehow accentuated her handsome features even more.

“Gray.” You breathed in relief once she settled by your side, her hand snaking around you before it rested over your stomach. Her nose brushed against the side of your head in greeting, a smile of her own casted right back at you.

Ambessa cleared her throat to gain your and Grayson’s attention. Grayson looked at her then, her eyebrow raised in question. That sly grin contorting her mouth upwards once more.

“Sheriff Grayson,” she drawled, a hint of mockery underlying her saccharine sweet tone. “It’s always a pleasure to see you. Although, I’m afraid it is my first time laying eyes upon your sweet wife.”

Grayson chuckled lowly, a gravelly rumble that caused your cheeks to heat with a soft flush as soon as you heard it. Countless years married and her voice still had that effect on you. “Yes well, you’re usually too busy… what do you say? ‘Sampling the local cuisine’ to pay much attention at these events.”

Ambessa laughed at that, loud and boisterous. You cringed slightly as those near you forwent their mindless chatter in order to zero their eyes upon your group. Medarda didn’t seem to mind though and Grayson stood stoically at your side. Perhaps your lack of exposure to the public eye made you more vulnerable to the judgement of others.

You tuned out the rest of the conversation. Instead focussing on the steady beat of Grayson’s heart beneath your ear. Her hand unoccupied by her glass of whisky drew mindless circles into the flesh of your hip as she continued her, albeit unwanted, conversation with Ms Medarda.

A tug on your arm drew you back to the present. Steely grey eyes looked down at you through hooded eyelids, a pleasant smile curved upwards on her face. She whispered, low in your ear, her rumbling voice sending shivers down your spine. You found yourself agreeing, although you can’t exactly be certain about what you had just agreed to. But, Grayson was your wife and you would agree to anything when it came to her.

Her large hand clasped your own, grip firm but soft; pulling enough to get you moving but gentle enough not to harm you. Once again, the sea of bodies parted for her and you found yourself enraptured with the sheer confidence your wife oozed. Out here she was respected, feared even, the residents of Piltover quaked in her stead; her hard gaze was enough to shut anyone up instantly, but with you, with you she was stripped bare. Her emotions were yours to see, yours to cherish and the kind look in her eyes was directed at you alone.

If her officers saw how she acted at home they’d definitely consider her absolutely smitten with you- wrapped around your finger and unable to deviate from your will.

———

Grayson’s crisp shirt sleeves were pushed up, crumpling at her elbow as she kneaded the squishy blob of dough on the kitchen countertop. She had been oddly silent as you had walked home together- the event not being too far from your shared house. You figured she had to be tired after all that socialising … and that would probably be the truth if only she’d look at you.

You sidled up behind her, snaking your hand around her midriff, hugging her larger frame from behind. Short strands of hair tickled your face as you rested against her. She hummed lowly at your presence but made no effort to spark up a conversation.

“What’s made you so quiet?” You mumbled against her back, thumb brushing against her stomach in an effort to coax the answer out of her.

You squeaked in surprise as she suddenly turned around- the dough long forgotten on the counter. Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly but soon, along with the rest of her features, schooled themselves into the indifferent facade she often wore around her officers. To say you were bewildered would be an understatement. “Grayson?”

“Would you have taken her up on her offer if I wasn’t there?”

“What?” What on earth was she talking about? You frantically wracked your brain, scouring it for any information that may help you in this conversation; ultimately finding nothing, rendering your search fruitless. “What offer? What are you talking about?”

Her hands grasped yours, thumb rubbing against your knuckles. “Medarda. You never gave her an answer.”

Great. Very unhelpful. “Uhm- an answer to what exactly?” You trailed off, voice unsure. You had clearly missed something vital.

Grayson stared at you as if you had a second head. Her look incredulous. “What do you mean, what do I mean?” Her accent was getting thicker, the deep rasp poorly hiding the emotion that lay beneath. “You were right there!”

“Well- I must admit I wasn’t paying any attention after you saved me from her horrendous flirting.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

Her eyes fell to the floor with a soft sigh. You lifted your hands upwards, cupping heated cheeks in the palms of your hands. Oh… you realised, albeit foolishly late. Medarda must have said something that ignited your poor wife’s insecurities, and your silence must have given fuel to the fire. “What did she say?”

“Nothing important…” Grayson grumbled into your hand, pressing a quick kiss there before nuzzling her nose into it.

“It’s important if it’s upsetting you.” You whispered.

She said nothing more, instead opting to shut you up with a searing kiss. Her mouth slotted against yours, needy and desperate as she gripped your hips. Your hands left her face, following the sharp line of her jaw until you reached wisps of hair. She whined into your mouth, attempting to pull you even closer as you scratched your fingers through her hair. You huffed out a breath- half laugh, half sigh. You adored her like this; a whimpering mess desperate for your love and attention.

All for you and you alone.

“What do you want, baby?” You husked into her ear, biting its lobe before soothing over the area with your tongue.

“Please..”

You chuckled at her neediness. Not wanting to make her wait longer than she had to, you pushed her in the direction of the bathroom, ordering her to wash the flour off her hands whilst you got ready upstairs.

She finished washing up faster than you had expected her to. You watched, through hooded eyes, as she approached your form. She slotted herself between your thighs, pressing herself against you in a frantic attempt to get closer. Her mouth found yours once more, kiss after kiss pressed against your lips as she sought the comfort she needed.

The bulge in her trousers rubbed against your clothed core, fuelling your arousal even more. Multiple years of marriage had made this dance second nature. Her hands gripped your hips, vice-like in her desperation. You mewled into her mouth, hips gyrating against hers in an attempt to heighten the small amount of pleasure she is granting you.

She pushed you down with a firm hand resting on your sternum. Your dress rode up, exposing your soaked underwear to her lascivious gaze. You roped your arms around her neck, pulling her down so that her body weight rested on top of you, blanketing you in a comforting warmth that only she could provide.

Her hands moved down to your hips once more, stilling at the hemline of your dress. She looked at you, then, fingers playing with the fabric as she sought your consent. Your quick ‘Go ahead, baby.’ was the only confirmation she needed and her hands made quick work of your dress.

The speed at which she undressed both you and herself never failed to impress you. Although, her dedication to achieving what she wanted has always been one of her most admirable qualities- and so what if that translated well into the bedroom? Her boxers were the last to go, silicone cock springing free as she ushered them off.

You meandered your way backwards on the bed, blinding orienteering yourself so that you were in the centre; she soon followed you, her knees bracketing your own. She kissed you softly, the earlier eagerness melting away into an easy tranquillity shared between the two of you. Calloused hands, rough from years of manual labour, explored your body. Her lips followed in their wake, pressing kiss after kiss to anywhere she could reach.

You gasped in surprise as her mouth laved at your nipple, the other tugged and pinched between her fingertips. She locked eyes with you, that insufferable, cocky smirk she often wore when getting her own way shone up at you. You ‘tsk-ed’ slightly, pulling her head back up so that you could nip at her neck. Each suck and bite was soothed with a kiss, a firm hand in her hair kept her still while you had your way with her. You paused, eyes flicking to hers once you heard her whimper- a quiet sound, easily missable if you weren’t paying rapt attention.

“What was that, my love?” You teased, laughter bubbling as she hid her face in your neck in response. Your laughter was cut short, however, once her hips grinded sloppily against your thighs; whimper after whimper sounding out into your ear. Thank heavens for hex-tech and their straps.

You hushed her slightly, pushing her off you just enough so that you could grab her strap. “Shh, it’s alright, baby. You’ll get what you want.” You mumbled in her ear. A soft kiss was pressed to the top of her head, a slight apology for making her wait so long, before your hand stroked up and down her shaft. She pumped her hips against your hand, chasing the pleasure you were allowing her. It always amused you how awfully desperate she got.

You shushed her whining as your hand retreated. Re-adjusting your legs, so that they were opened wide enough for her to fit comfortably. Her cock was guided to your entrance, the cool material gliding through your slick folds a few times before she finally met her target, bottoming out into you in one thrust. The groan in your ear was heavenly, her arms that had previously been holding herself up hooked under your shoulders, hugging you close to her.

“Can I move?” She asked, voice higher pitched than usual and trailing off into a velvety moan.

“Just a minute, Gray.” You whispered, nails gently raking down her back.

A few moments passed in a comfortable silence, the quiet of the room disturbed by your shared breaths. You gave her the go ahead, causing her to pull away from your neck in order to position herself, and you, how she wanted. She smiled down at you, thumb brushing over your lip a few times. Silly woman, offering herself up for you on a silver platter. Your tongue, warm and wet, kitten licked at the pad of her thumb before drawing it into your mouth. A strong suck had her eyes blown even wider. Her breath hitched as she watched your hollowed cheeks, mind quickly turning to the gutter, thinking of other things you could wrap your soft, pillowy lips around.

Her hips grinded against yours, moving against you before she pulled out, inch by inch. She paused halfway before pushing her length back inside you. She continued like this for a few moments. In and out. In and out. Until she finally pulled out to the tip, shoving herself back into your velvety walls with a sharp thrust. Her pace is punishing and with each heavy punch of her cock, you’re gasping for air; moan after moan tumbling from your lips.

She always gets like this when she’s jealous- pleasure driven and wild with need. Her grunts are quiet. Her chest rising and falling rapidly with the amount of effort it takes to claim you so thoroughly. You made a keening sound, low in your throat, as you arched up into her, grasping at her hair so that you could address her. “Faster. Go faster, my love. It’s alright.”

Her pace picks up, sweat slick skin slapping against your own, the obscene sound of sex and your soaked cunt sounding out into the room. She kisses you, all teeth and tongue, as the tip of her strap nudged against the spongy spot deep within the walls of your inviting heat. You indulge her for a mere moment before pulling away from her, laughing as she chases your lips with a whine. Like a dog being denied a treat.

Deciding to placate her, you leant up to kiss her once more. The coil in your stomach tightened, and by the stutter of her hips you knew that she was close too. Your kiss was broken by her whimper, quickly followed by rope after rope of her seed spilling inside you, filling you thoroughly. She followed her release with a pump of her hips, keeping her come plugged inside you. The last rub against your walls sent you tumbling after her, moaning into her mouth as wave after wave of pleasure rippled through your body.

Her muscled back flexed beneath your touch, her face finding solace in the crook of your neck once more. “You did so good, so perfect for me. Are you feeling better now, hmm?”

An affectionate smile broke out on your face at her muffled confirmation. You pressed a soft kiss behind her ear, her body a comforting warmth blanketing your form. After a few sweet words whispered to her, you attempted to move her off you, wanting to run a bath for the two of you and change the sheets. A muttered ‘no’ was all it took for you to falter in place, deciding that it could wait a few moments. After all, how often was it that you could just cuddle with your beloved wife?

#grayson arcane #arcanefans4gaza #grayson x reader #grayson x you #Grayson arcane x reader

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cleoluvrr · 1 year ago

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don't fall for monsters (rafe cameron x reader)

it was the ultimate disguise, i really stayed with such a monster

WARNINGS: dark!rafe, mentions of drowning, mentions of past murder, coercion, domestic violence, manipulation, angst

masterlist

your eyes burned from the flashing lights of red, white, and blue. neighbors stood on their porches and peeked through the blinds to watch the commotion, nothing better to do than involve themselves in small town drama. you could feel every pair of eyes stuck on your shivering frame; wet hair and tearstained face a sight to see.

the towel wrapped around your shoulders barely did anything to keep you warm in the cool, fall evening. it was there to keep the water from soaking through your clothes and nothing more. the smell of salt water clung to your hair and the longer you stood there, the more nauseous you felt from the scent.

seeing rafe cameron in the back of a paddy wagon did nothing to soothe your nerves, nor did the distant sound of his father speaking to shoupe just a few yards away. the two men kept sneaking glances at you from afar and made it obvious the topic of the choice happened to be you. rafe, however, never broke his gaze, even when you tore yours away. the fury in his eyes burned through you like a laser and the blowout that would take place at some point or another was inevitable.

you could be sick.

“hey, sweetheart?” a lower-ranked officer approached you cautiously, obviously not wanting to startle you. “do you mind coming with me for a little bit? just need to ask you some questions, is all.”

the older, blonde female officer came into your view for a moment when you side-eyed her, an unwelcome hand landing on your shoulder. she slowly removed it after feeling your sharp gaze on her.

“i have nothing to say.” you replied monotonously. your face lacked any emotion and it probably made her feel uncomfortable from the way she swallowed dryly.

“honey, i know–”

“you don’t know anything, actually.” you cut her off before she could speak any further. “and don’t call me honey.” leaving the cop where she stood, you walked over to the steps of your house and took a seat. she was left standing there like an idiot and you would’ve laughed if you weren’t overcome with the shock of what landed you in this predicament.

rafe tried to drown you.

well, maybe he was just trying to scare you, but there was no arguing against the fact he held you head beneath the water and made sure you couldn’t breathe.

your boyfriend had been lashing out for weeks, taking all his anger and frustration out on you. the only reason you invited him over was to talk about things because you simply couldn’t take it anymore. sure, you two have had rough patches before–but this situation had gotten completely out of hand. you loved him too much to end it, though, so you thought this was the best option.

you expected to get to the bottom of things, not for rafe to confess to you a great sin.

he told you about what happened on the tarmac, how he murdered sheriff peterkin. the weight was dragging him down and he couldn’t keep it a secret anymore–he had to tell someone. you understood, in a weird way. that wouldn’t be something you could carry around either.

you just wished that someone wasn’t you.

how could you walk around knowing the man you love is a killer? he’s the reason his sister is lost at sea, why the entire town was chasing after an innocent kid and not him. it was a mystery to you why he thought you’d take this information well, but the way he reacted when you said you were going to the cops shouldn’t have surprised you.

the moment rafe dragged you out of the back door to the water behind your house, you were sure you’d suffer the same fate as peterkin. when he threw you to your knees and dug his nails into your scalp, roots burning as he fisted the hair with all his strength. you begged him to stop, told him you loved him–anything that would snap him out of it. at some point you screamed for help, and someone had to have heard you from how loud you were. they had to have heard you because one minute you had a nose full of water, and the next you were coughing your guts out in the grass while two neighbors knocked rafe off of you and held him down.

they were the ones that called the cops, not you. your own phone was sitting upstairs in your room, shattered and unusable after being thrown against the wall by rafe.

so here you sat, a bunch of strangers watching your house as the kook king argues with the sheriff about what to do with his son. ward didn’t particularly like rafe very much, but he’d be damned if he let him go to jail over this. you knew this for a fact.

ward would burn every bridge in the country to make sure his family remained at the top. he was willing to let a teenage boy die before letting rafe take the fall for a murder he committed. ward cameron had the money and influence that most people could only dream of, and he knew how to use it to his advantage. if it meant throwing you to the wolves to save his son, he’d cover you in rabbit’s blood and send you to their den on a platter.

“y/n?”

the sound of your name pulled you out of your dazed state, the familiar voice coming from directly in front of you. ward cameron watched you with worry from where he stood, not that you really cared. he could pretend he was worried about you all he wanted, you already knew his true colors.

“are you okay, sweetie? can you tell me what happened?” he lowered himself into a squat to meet you at eye level. his brows met in the middle and he had deep stress lines decorating his aged face. “what’s all this about?”

sniffling, you dropped your head between your shoulders for a moment. you shook it from side to side before meeting his gaze again. he looked confused by the dry chuckle that left your mouth, clearly unsure of how to interpret the reaction.

“what’s this all about…” you laughed humorlessly again, face blank and eyes cold. “your son tried to drown me, mr. cameron–i’m sure you’ve heard what this is all about.”

the silence between you and the older man was heavy with tension. he glanced back at shoupe, who was watching the conversation with scrutiny from afar, and rafe in the seat of the police car. his eyes met yours again, this time worried for a different reason.

you already knew what he was going to say.

“i’m sure it was just a misunderstanding–”

“a misunderstanding?” you repeated in disbelief. “are you serious? look at me!”

his eyes raked over your dampened, disheveled frame. he ran a rough hand through his hair stressfully before speaking.

“look…i know you’re upset right now. i do, really.” ward's tongue pokes out to moisten his slightly chapped lips as a result of the chill wind gently blowing over the area. “but just think about what you’re going to say first.”

“i’m not gonna snitch, if that’s what you’re so concerned about.” you wave him off annoyedly. the cameron patriarch looked at you in shock, like he couldn’t believe the words that just came out of your mouth.

you were pissed. enraged. you couldn’t believe that rafe tried to drown you and it hurt to think about how he was willing to take you out just to keep a secret you never asked him to reveal in the first place. how ward was more concerned about covering his son’s ass than he was about him trying to take your life.

so many thoughts flooded your mind and you wanted nothing more than to take your brain out for a few minutes of peace.

even with the anger and fear that consumed you, snitching on rafe was out of the question. not only because it would never go anywhere, but because deep down; you knew you could never do that to him. you loved him too much, and that truth sickened you to admit to yourself.

before he could speak again, shoupe approached the two of you faster than you could blink. his shoulders were squared and his hands rested on his belt as if he was ready for defense. the man gave ward a long, heated glare before he stared down at your seated frame with a sympathetic gaze.

“everything alright over here?” he questions, obviously accusing ward of something along the lines of witness intimidation with just four words.

“everything is fine, shoupe.” ward doesn’t give you the chance to answer, immediately interjecting as your lips parted to speak. the sheriff cuts his eyes at him momentarily before returning to you.

“i was speaking to the young lady, ward.”

you avoided eye contact with both of the men. you were far too occupied with the chipping polish on your fingernails to bother with whatever strange tension they had between them. the feeling of everyone’s eyes on you made your skin prickle up and you wanted nothing more than to take a shower and pretend this night never happened.

“everything’s fine.” you kicked at the rocks beneath your feet, voice soft and disinterested.

“are you sure?” shoupe did not believe a word coming out of your mouth. you didn’t either, but there was no point in telling him that. “is there a reason i have three witnesses saying they found rafe holding you under the water?”

“nothing happened, officer shoupe. i fell and rafe was helping me–i’m not the best swimmer.”

ward maintained a tense posture as he stood beside shoupe and you wanted so badly to roll your eyes–or scream. you almost wanted to say something just to see the man go pale in the face, but you resisted. it wasn’t because you were afraid of ward; the man was the least of your worries. the idea of rafe going free even if you came clean made you sick to your stomach. that was enough to shut you up.

the two men that helped you were giving their statements to some random officer, and you prayed for the pair of them. whatever happened to them after the lights went off wasn’t your problem, but rafe would certainly handle them in whatever way he saw fit. the knot on his forehead and the dried-blood leaking from his nose would serve as a reminder to get his revenge.

“that’s not what those young men told me, y/n. they clearly saw him doing something to hurt you.”

“it’s dark, shoupe. they didn’t ‘clearly see’ anything.” your eyes snapped up to meet him. the agitation was starting to eat away at you and you just wanted everyone to get off your yard. “i just told you what happened, so what’s the issue?”

“sweetie, you don’t need to be scared of anything–”

you stood to your full height abruptly, both of the older men stepping back from the sudden movement. rafe’s staring was turning your stomach and shoupe’s accent was becoming headache inducing.

“he’s my boyfriend, i’m not scared of him.” you cut him off mid-sentence. it was a lie and you both knew it, but his pushing was irritating you more than ward’s looming presence overseeing the interaction. “i fell, and he helped me. those guys misunderstood–what else do you want me to say? that’s all that happened.”

they watched you closely as you wrapped your arms around yourself protectively. it was getting harder to keep it all together and crying in front of the already unconvinced man isn’t going to help your case at all.

“you guys can go.” you pulled the towel off your shoulders and folded it into a messy rectangle. the wet hair falling down your back made you cringe internally. “i’m sorry y’all came out here for nothing…i’ll try to stay away from the water at night.”

shoupe’s only response was a reluctant nod, eyes glancing over at ward before he stepped away. you watched as he stalked over to the cruiser holding rafe, releasing him after speaking to the officer keeping watch over him. those steely, blue eyes remained on you the entire time they unlocked his cuffs, jaw locked and shoulders tense with anger.

even though you just saved his ass, although it wasn’t your first choice, he was greatly displeased. if ward noticed the way his son looked at you, he didn’t say anything to make it known. the audience that had gathered looked confused at his release, the men that saved you especially so.

with each step rafe took, you could feel your heart skip a beat. dread washed over you. even though there was nothing he could do with the police watching like hawks, you knew something was coming sooner or later. he rubbed at the red marks encircling his wrists from the tight cuffs, but he was totally fixated on you.

it sent a chill down your spine but you couldn’t show that; not in front of all these people.

“baby…” you said cautiously. stopping in front of you, the heat of his body warmed you from a foot away. “are you okay? i didn’t mean for all this to happen.”

you don’t wait for him to respond. rather, you step forward with open arms and wrap them around his lean body, tightly embracing him. you were sure you heard a few gasps in the distance and ward’s breath hitched from his spot a few feet away.

rafe doesn’t hesitate to return the gesture, arms snug atop your shoulders as he rests his chin on your still damp hair. he rocks you back and forth, the swaying motion hardly soothing when you feel the bile trying to fight its way out of your throat.

“i know, princess, it’s okay.” his voice vibrated against your scalp. “i’m sorry i hurt you...i-i wasn’t thinking.”

you nodded your head, humming in understanding. you didn’t believe it for a second, but you just wanted to pretend nothing ever happened. it was easier to live when you didn’t have to think about the love of you life trying to drown you in your own house

“rafe.” ward interrupted the reunion with a stern voice. you felt his head raise to look at his father but his arms remained tight around you. “we need to go now. give the girl some space tonight.”

rafe nodded at his father; you could tell from the way his chin brushed against your skull. his hand took your head into their hold as he tilted it up to make you look at him directly. though there was a familiar softness to his face, there was something in those pretty, blue eyes that unsettled your mind. he leaned down to place a careful peck upon your lips, so gentle that it felt like a breeze ghosted across the skin.

“i love you.” he whispered against your slightly parted mouth.

“i love you, too.” you responded just as softly.

he nodded his head, lashes brushing against the tops of his cheeks. he adjusts himself to lean in close to your ear, preparing to say something just from you to hear.

“i love you so much,” his breathe hits the shell of your ear in a way that makes you tingle. “but i will kill you if you tell anyone. i don’t wanna have to do that, but i will…so don’t put me in that position, alright baby? don’t get involved.”

you nearly froze, but with everyone watching your every move you had no choice but to react calmly and nod your head.

placing a kiss on your cheek, rafe pulls away completely. you wait for him to turn his back before you briskly walk up the steps to enter your own house. you were met with pin drop silence and dim lights when you opened the door, immediately shutting it behind you as you stepped inside.

you barely got the door locked before you fell to the floor in anguish. silent shakes racked your body as you muffled the audible cries with a hand pressed tight against your lips. the wooden frame of the front door was hard and cold against your back. you lost your breath from the strength of your heart-wrenching sobs. if someone pressed their ear to the door you were sure they’d be able to hear the pain and fear spilling out of you. everyone had invaded your privacy enough tonight to last a lifetime and you couldn’t find it in you to care.

he put his hands on you. the same hands he used to murder peterkin with. the same hands he used to hold you beneath the water while you beggar for your life. he kissed you with the mouth he used to threaten you with. used that mouth to tell he loved you before saying he’d kill you. violated wasn’t strong enough of a word to describe how you felt.

betrayed? disgusted?

how could he live a life like this? how could he drag you into his mess and then tell you not to get involved? how could he look in the mirror and not feel like an animal?

then again, you must ask yourself–

how could you let yourself love a monster like rafe cameron?

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