#Wrist snapped : cracked in a bad way
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uh oh
#Was typing something for the original story idea I mentioned that I was gonna work on yesterday#And shook out my hand#Wrist snapped : cracked in a bad way#And now I can’t move it without pain oh fuck#Adding this to the emotional turmoil I am not giving
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consequences
a/n: I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE THIS CAME FROM BUT HERE YOU GO
also i'm more than happy to continue this if yall want more, just LET ME KNOW
other works
“You want to what?"
"To open our relationship."
You stare at him in disbelief, clutching the soft blanket in your hands. There's a sharp ringing sounding through your eardrums and everything around you slows. He keeps talking, his voice breaking through the barrier of fog that encompasses your senses.
"I want us to remain honest with each other, but this is the only way to keep our relationship healthy."
He steps away from the kitchen counter, wearing the sports jacket you bought him for your sister's wedding.
"I want the both of us to disclose when we start dating someone else. That's the main boundary, we can hammer out all the ground rules later. Right now, I'm going on a date, so uh," he pauses as he checks his reflection in the mirror beside the door one last time, "don't wait up."
You try to focus on his words, but no matter your efforts you weren't able to process anything. His keys jangle in his grip and you faintly recognize the sound of the door slamming closed and his footsteps echoing down the empty corridor of your apartment.
"I still can't believe he said that to you."
The singular ice ball hits against the sides of your glass with each tilt of your wrist. You take a long drag of the dark liquor before laughing sardonically.
"It's been six months of him parading his dates around." Another sip, your work skirt digs into your thighs painfully. You distract yourself by reaching for a peanut from the nearly empty bowl. "And what's worse is that he still expects me to be the doting wife that he comes home to every night!"
The bartender refills your glass while you sneak another peanut. You card your fingers through your hair as you continue to rant. A dull throb radiates in between your brows so your eyes slide closed as you take deep breaths.
"Well, I can't imagine you're doing so bad yourself."
You hum questioningly at the man, focusing your gaze on the dark-haired bartender, his stubble dusting his sharp jaw as the muscles work beneath the skin. His eyes haven't left you since you sat down in front of him.
"I see you in here." You begin to pick at the skin around your nails and he nudges a bowl of peanuts in your direction. "Men come up to you all the time. You've been on dates too, right?"
You reach for a peanut and crack open the grainy shell, biting the inside of your cheek. Your bartender laughs incredulously and then presses his hands into his side of the counter to lean over toward you. The cloth he tosses over his shoulder must be damp because the fabric of his white button-up is darkened there.
"Focus on me, Peanut."
Your eyes snap to his, unable to keep the overflow of expression from brimming beneath the surface. Your heart cracks further as he visibly softens, crumpling against the counter to cover your hand with his. A tense silence stretches between the two of you, charging the air with unwelcome emotions.
Your bartender’s spare hand cups your jaw and swipes away the glistening tears fleeing down your cheeks. Sniffling loudly while straightening in your seat, you pull away from his touch—effectively stopping yourself from melting into him.
You’ve worked so hard to make this shitty dive bar your safe place, you’ll be damned if you ruin it with a fling.
“I don’t even know why I’m wasting tears on this whole thing.” You take three deep breaths—whiskey and apples invade your senses. The man in front of you tilts his head to the side while drying a few crystal glasses.
“You’re avoiding my question, Peanut.” He turns briefly and you try to figure a way out as the cups clink softly. “You have been dating too, right?”
Your teeth trap your bottom lip, peeling off the thin layers of skin. You purposely avoid his eyes, doing less than nothing to hide your answer.
“Jesus, Peanut. What’s stopping you?”
You huff, focusing your attention on the patrons around you. There’s noticeably less than there were when you first arrived. The bar guests go about their business, underlying emotions kept close to their chest and out of sight to everyone else. You wish you could be that way, instead of sewing your heart to your sleeve for anyone to rip pieces from.
“I--" You hesitate, twirling your glass, watching as the ice fights to keep up with the sudden movements you force on its surroundings.
"Some small part of me still loves him. No matter how much he hurts me with this whole open relationship bullshit. I'm still thinking that one day he'll wake up and remember that I've been his loving wife and partner for the past six years. This can't be my new reality. It just can't. He's meant to be my partner for life, not my partner who has really good friends. Not my partner with a girlfriend or some fuck buddy across town."
This is the can of worms that you'd hoped to keep locked away from the Commando's dive bar. What you've held close to your chest every night you slink past the blonde bouncer, Steve. The information you never let slip to the six-foot-five bartender with the metal arm. And now, you can't seem to stop the words from leaving your mouth.
"He's supposed to be my husband. Why isn't he my husband? Is it me? He said that we would talk about what the reason was, but I can't get him to sit down with me. I can't even get him to reply to a text, much less answer questions about our relationship."
You spit the last word before downing the rest of your drink in one go. Bucky stands patiently as you let loose every emotion that you've bottled up for the past six years. Further in the bar, someone shouts for the last call.
"Why don't I date? Because I love him. Because outside of him, I don't know who I am. I don't date because I've been with the same man for almost a decade and I wouldn't even know where to begin. I can't see past where I'm at right now. There is no future for me outside of the hell that I find myself in now. I can't date because I want to be there for when my husband remembers that I exist. I want to be there for him like he wasn't for me because I know the novelty of his flings will wear off soon enough. And maybe that makes me worse than him, but I don't know if I have the energy to care anymore."
There's now a heavy silence covering you and your whole body slumps because of it. Despite feeling the biggest breath of relief of getting those emotions out in the open, you now have to deal with what they mean. You were always taught that saying your emotions out loud would only lead to more issues, but here you fucking are. Sometimes these things are unavoidable.
"I call bullshit."
Your jaw drops as your bartender rocks away from the counter. You flounder as he starts performing closing duties. You stare at Bucky's back, slightly distracted by the muscles working underneath the tight material.
"Did you just bullshit my feelings?"
Bucky turns halfway, eyebrows raised, "Yep."
Your bartender plucks the glass in front of you and drops it in the sink on his way to the cash register. If you were in a whole state, you'd smack back with a witty comment, but you're tired.
"You can't bullshit my feelings."
He holds a stack of twenties in one hand and he pins you with the same expression as before.
"Uh, yeah I can."
He continues to count the register and tosses a goodbye to the other bartender. A long lull stretches between you. Now it's just the two of you in the bar, and that must have been what he was waiting on because it's only now that he really talks.
"Peanut, how long have you been coming here?"
You furrow your brow at the question, not sure where he's taking his line of questioning.
"I don't know, four months?"
“Four months, twenty days."
Bucky's retort is quick and final. A fact. Something he's committed to memory. You're taken aback by the heavy tone he layers between the syllables.
"And for those four months and twenty days, I've stood behind this counter and watched you wallow. I've watched you turn down proposition after proposition. I've had Steve throw out dozens of men for how they speak about you. I've sat back and tried to be the listening ear that you need because you're clearly going through a really difficult time. I've never been in the position that you're in and I'm not going to pretend that I understand the half of it."
He slams the drawer closed and rounds the countertop. His boots thud against the floor violently, stopping beside the barstool next to you. Your bartender leans down and swings your stool to face his before taking a seat.
"I've stood behind that bar and was able to listen to quite a bit. But what I can't have is you thinking that you're the issue."
His hand slips into yours, his thumb tracing the knuckles of your fingers. Tears begin to brim at your waterline again, but you refuse to let them fall.
"Peanut, you're the most loyal person I've met in recent years. You love fiercely and you hurt even harder. Hell, you've been with this guy for almost ten years and he's been fucking you over for the past six months and you're sitting in this bar defending him to a relative stranger!"
"But he--"
"You're husband took the decision away from you and then framed it in a way that made you out to be the bad guy. He put you in a nearly impossible situation because he knew you were too loyal to him to do anything about it."
"He didn--"
"Yes, he did."
Having it laid out like that by the one person you wanted to be kept away from all of it was eye-opening. Your shoulders crumple and a new wave of tears threatens to escape.
"Now, this isn't the best time, but I feel like in a situation like yours there's never going to be a 'right' time."
Bucky sits up straighter and sticks his metal hand out to you.
"Hi. I'm Bucky Barnes. I'm a retired Army Sergeant and I now work in the Howling Commandos bar. I've been your bartender for the past four months and twenty days. Over that time, I've grown to care for you, more than a bartender should. Because of that fact, I want to take you out on a date."
You suck in a breath sharply, immediately going to deny him, only for Bucky to cut you off.
"You don't have to give me an answer right now, Peanut. Just think about it and whenever you're ready, I hope I'm your first call."
You chew on the inside of your cheek, gnawing on the idea. You have grown fond of Bucky. He's become a sort of safety net for you these past few months. Going home has proven to be more and more of a chore so you spend hours on end in the Howling Commandos.
What if you and Bucky go on a date and you hate it? What if you date and you have a huge falling out? What if you--
"I can see the wheels turning, Peanut." He taps your temple with a cold metal finger. "What are you thinking?"
"What if we end up not working out?"
"What if we do?"
The question hangs. The implication is clear. You could spend hours going through the what-if scenarios, both positive and negative. You'll never truly know until you take a leap of faith.
"What would your boss think of you dating one of your new regulars though?"
You're grasping at straws, but you're really trying to convince yourself that taking that leap with Bucky would be the worst thing in the world.
"Peanut, I'll sell the damn bar before someone other than you tells me that I can't date you."
Your eyes meet his and all you can see is the adoration and sincerity in them. His thumb is still working over your knuckles, but it's also expanded to tracing aimless circles into the back of your hand. The cool metal is the only way you've grounded yourself to reality.
A slow smile spreads across your features, the first of its kind tonight and you both know what it means.
#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bartender!bucky#bartender!bucky x reader#bartender!bucky barnes x reader#seb stan#sebastian stan#sebastian stan character#seb stan character#seb stan x reader#sebastian stan x reader#bartender!bucky x you#bartender!bucky x peanut!reader
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vampire!rafe doesn't want to hurt neighbor!reader but he's just so hungry and she just smells so good...
18+ mdni!
c/w: blood, vampire!rafe feeding on her w out permission, slightly suggestive
wc: 2.9k
happy halloween & kinktober to all who celebrate xx
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To put it plainly, there has always been something off about her neighbor; a peculiarity in the air surrounding him and an eccentricity in his outlandish aura. She thinks she could count all of their conversations (consisting of a few sparse sentences) with one hand, even though he’s lived in the apartment next to her for almost a year now.
She remembers their first encounter as clear as day. She’d chirped up a friendly 'Hi! Do you need any help?' when she’d noticed an unfamiliar presence carrying heavy boxes, even if he made it seem like they were filled with fluffy feathers with how easily he was lifting them with those beefy arms of his.
However, in response, he’d merely halted his movements and stared down at her as if she was some sort of a folkloric monster before muttering out a cold 'Uh, no thanks' followed by him slamming his door closed with the back of his foot.
After that, their interactions haven’t been anything more than awkward nods of acknowledgment in the elevator or her accidentally bumping into him in the hallways, which was more often than not her fault, with how often she got lost in her daydreams and forgot about the world around her. Each time, he’d mutter out a displeased 'Watch where you’re going, yeah?' while taking a notable step back for good measure.
Despite his apparent distaste for her though, she couldn’t help but find his brooding eyes and grumpy demeanor sort of alluring. And it didn’t help that he was quite easy on the eyes as well. However, since he seemed to hate her guts (the reason unclear to her) she tried to stay out of his way the best she could, not wanting to bother him anymore than she apparently already did by simply existing.
Therefore, she hesitates a few times before knocking on Rafe’s door to inquire if he’d happen to have any gauze or even bandages. At this point, she’ll take anything because the cut on the skin between her thumb and index finger seems to be deeper than she originally thought; warm maroon dripping down her wrist since the paper towels she’s pressing against the wound aren’t being very helpful.
She’s not entirely sure how it happened. One second, she was contently humming to the music playing from her earphones and cutting up some sweet potatoes to turn into fries in the oven, and the next, she’s bleeding onto her cutting board. And if that wasn’t bad enough, turns out she doesn’t even own a first-aid kit.
Normally, she’d ask the kind, elderly woman living behind her other wall for help since she’s always so lovely to her; bringing her hand-baked pies and gracing her with the warmest greetings whenever they cross paths. However, it’s rather late and she doesn’t want to wake her incase she’s already in bed.
Therefore, her only option is her other neighbor since she doesn’t even know the names of the other people living in the same apartment complex.
She stands on top of his doormat for a few moments, fleetingly wondering if he’s even home, before the door cracks open and all of a sudden, she’s blinking up at Rafe’s tall frame.
“Hi, I’m so sorry to bother you. I know it’s late and all but um, was wondering if you had anything to…patch this up with?” she lifts up her wounded hand in emphasis as she stumbles over her words.
The glimmering sapphires of his eyes slightly widen at the sight of the tissue soaked through in vermilion as he simply stares. His gaze is awfully similar to their first encounter — like she’s just killed his cat — before seemingly snapping out of the haze he’d lost himself; clearing his throat as if there’s some sort of an itch there.
“Yeah, uh, come in,” he ushers her in with a tense smile; like he’d rather be doing anything other than inviting her into his home.
“Gonna see if I can, uh, find something for that…you can wait in the kitchen, yeah?” he says before disappearing into the bathroom.
And he’s always made her rather nervous, however, right now she feels like a little kitten who’s just stepped into a lion’s den as she wanders over to what she assumes is the kitchen. Fleetingly, she wonders if he prefers to order in or eat out since the countertops and cupboards appear far too clean and empty to be used regularly. As she takes a closer look, even the stove and the oven look brand new; like they’ve never been used before.
“Wasn’t aware my kitchen was that interesting.”
She flinches when he’s suddenly behind her. And what he said sounded like a joke, however, when she spins on her heel to face him; his expression is as serious as a statue.
“Sorry, I just…um, nothing, sorry,” she shakes her head to rid herself of the eerie feeling trickling down her spine; her vivid imagination getting the best of her, as always. He’s probably just a clean freak.
“Sit,” he gestures towards the chair he’s pulled out for her before she hesitantly obeys; a strange ambience following him when he crouches down in front of her in order to take her hand in between his larger ones.
“How did this even happen?” he flits his eyes over to hers and she could swear there’s something obscure swimming in the watery ponds, almost like a deep craving for something.
“Oh, I was just making dinner and…got distracted while holding the knife, I guess,” she explains, embarrassed now that she has to recall the moments before disaster.
“Clumsy girl,” he scolds her. “Should be more careful, you know?”
“I know, sorry,” she peeps out.
“Don’t need to apologize. Mistakes happen, yeah?” he reassures her with an uncharacteristically tender tone that confuses her to no end but before she has the chance to question it, he’s slowly breathing in through his nose; eyes fluttering shut along with his exhale as if trying to calm himself down.
She blinks, disconcerted. “You, um, you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. Jus’ had a...long day,” he mutters out before swallowing.
“Right…” she drifts off when he peels away the saturated tissue to properly inspect the injury.
In the process, some of the maroon trickles down to stain his fingers and at that, she notices his entire form tense as he halts his movements; tongue peeking out to wet his bottom lip.
“You sure you’re fine? Do you get like squeamish around blood or? Can do it myself if it makes you uncomfortable,” she suggests cluelessly, not comprehending why his behavior is suddenly even more unsettling than before.
A dry chuckle tumbles from his throat in response because he’s practically doing everything in his power not to drain her of every last blood cell and she’s concerned for his comfort. What an adorable little thing.
However, his laughter doesn’t last very long since he can hear the blood flowing in her veins; smell the sweetness of it on her palm and at the end of the day, he only has so much self-control.
“Nah, I just…” his gaze sticks like glue to the scarlet droplets on his thumb, seemingly contemplating something. Then, to her utmost surprise, he’s bringing it up to his mouth and tucking it past his lips; a low groan rumbling from his throat when her taste melts on his tongue.
“What are you—” her eyes widen in shock and before she can comprehend what’s happening, he’s bringing her hand closer to his mouth and sinking sharp teeth into the skin of her palm; a guttural moan following his actions.
And it all happens so quickly, her brain only registering the throbbing pain that follows.
“Ow, what the hell?” her voice is alarmed as she tries to yank her arm back, unfortunately to no avail since he’s much stronger and doesn’t even notice she’s trying to move; entirely too consumed by the sweet nectar she’s involuntarily providing him with.
His bite stings; makes her gasp for breath to tolerate the dreadful ache before it turns into something else entirely, something akin to pleasure. Her brows furrow as she tries to grasp onto the nearly obscene sight before her; his eyes flickering shut as he contently hums and grunts around the flesh between his teeth.
“Shit, why do you taste so good? What the fuck do you eat, huh?” his question is muffled around the wound he’s feasting on; his noises of gratification sending a foreign spark to stir in her guts as they echo around the otherwise quiet apartment.
“I don’t— I don’t know?” her fuzzy brain is having a hard time understanding what she’s supposed to do in this entirely too strange of a situation. At this point, it feels more like a fever dream than reality.
“Can’t fucking stop. Shit, I’m sorry, haven’t had a proper meal in ages,” he rasps out as he resumes greedily satiating his sweet tooth with heady moans escaping his tongue.
“I feel— feel kinda dizzy can you—” she mumbles; vision growing misty as the room begins to spin.
However, he doesn’t seem to hear her; too lost in satiating his most primal urges as he nuzzles his face even more into her palm.
“I don’t know if I....” she doesn’t have the strength to finish her sentence before her heavy lids drop closed and she feels her limbs turn lax; thoughts evaporating into thin air when she loses consciousness.
The last thing her soupy brain picks up is him cursing under his breath before catching her limp body in a steady hold.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
All-consuming fatigue causes her eyelids to feel as heavy as the washing machine she had to carry to her apartment when she moved in as she blinks her eyes open; desperately trying to piece together where she is and what the hell happened.
“Good, good, you’re awake,” an all too familiar drawl forces the memories to overwhelm her mind as she tries to sit up on the couch with softened bones and weakened limbs.
She can still feel the pain of his sharp teeth piercing through the skin of her palm as she looks down at the piece of gauze wrapped securely around her throbbing left hand.
“Shit, let me help,” she registers Rafe’s voice before his strong arms are maneuvering her into a seated position; steadying her.
“There you go,” he rasps out before shoving a frigid glass filled with water into her frail hands. However, when she’s unable to properly hold onto it, he lets out a sigh and brings it closer to the seam of her lips himself.
“Drink,” he orders with a hint of exasperation; tipping the cup and forcing her to gulp down large amounts of the fresh liquid. And she drinks greedily, not even aware she was this thirsty. All too soon though, he decides she’s had enough and draws the magical elixir away.
And she’s about to ask for more when the reason why she fainted in the first place finally registers in her puzzled brain.
“What the hell? Why would you— I thought…are you— you’re a vampire?” she stumbles over her words; the realization feeling surreal as she rapidly blinks up at him.
“I thought— I thought that was a myth? Vampires exist?” her face scrunches up in mayhem as she examines him from head to toe. However, no clear signs of him being a supernatural creature catch her eye; even the maroon she remembers staining the sides of his mouth has been wiped away.
“Uh, yeah, it’s a…long story,” he scratches at the back of his head. “But I need you to—”
“Wait. You didn’t turn me into a vampire, did you?” she frantically asks, tongue subtly trying to inspect whether she has grown fangs over the course of her nap or not.
“Calm down, it doesn’t work like that, I’d have to—”
“Oh, can you compel me to forget about this like in the Vampire Diaries?” she cuts him off with rounded eyes.
“In the what?” his gemstone-eyes are perplexed when he opens a packet of what appears to be oatmeal raisin cookies.
“It’s such a good show, you haven’t seen it?” she gets momentarily sidetracked.
“Stop asking stupid questions and eat,” he orders and offers the treat to her as if she’s some kind of a dog; a crease forming between his brows when she refuses to open her mouth.
“Why aren’t you eating it?” he nearly glares at her, as if she’s a major inconvenience that he wishes would just disappear so he could continue on with whatever it is that vampires do.
“I hate raisins,” she complains with her face crumpling up in aversion.
“Don’t really care. Just eat it, shit, do you not wanna feel better?” he grumbles out when she pulls her face away from the delicacy.
“Well, I wouldn’t need to feel better in the first place if you hadn’t drank like half of the blood in my body,” her tone is displeased, making him roll his eyes.
“It wasn’t even that much. You’re fine, alright? Just eat this and you’ll feel better, yeah?” he breaks off some of the baked good; hovering it in front of her lips while looking at her expectantly.
And for a moment, he thinks she’s not going to comply, but then she lets out a weary sigh; reluctantly opening her mouth. Immediately, he pushes the piece in while examining her carefully as if to make sure she’s actually swallowing before feeding her more.
When she’s finished chewing two more cookies, he finally seems at least somewhat content with her cooperation and rewards her with more water that she eagerly sips on. He fills the cup to the brim once more and she’s actually able to hold it this time around; feeling some of her strength returning. She hates to admit that he was right.
“How do you feel?” he then murmurs, a faint hue of concern painting over the question as he takes a sip from his own mug. And from the potent, metallic odor she can tell it’s not water.
“Um…like my neighbor just drained me out of my blood without so much as a warning,” she places the now empty glass on the coffee table and flickers her accusatory eyes over to him.
He scoffs before walking over to her. “And I apologize for that, alright? But what do you expect me to do when you’re practically shoving your bleeding hand in my face?”
“So, it’s my fault now? Damn, sorry for not knowing you were a fucking vampire,” she huffs out; not caring that she’s poking the sleeping bear, even if he could quite literally eat her for lunch.
At that, he lets out a deep sigh; running his fingers through his hair in frustration. “That’s not what I meant, okay? Just can’t fucking…think straight when you smell like that.”
“Like what?” she sounds almost offended for a second.
“I dunno, like…like real fucking appetizing.”
Oh.
“Right…well— since I feel great now, think I’m just gonna go,” her attempt at standing on her feet fails miserably when she stumbles on wobbly feet. She’s about to topple over to the floor before Rafe’s big arms are steadying her with his hands on her waist.
“Careful now. Told you, you need more rest, okay?”
“Think I can rest just fine in my own apartment...” she trails off when she notices he’s not even paying attention to her words anymore, instead his gaze is now fixed on her neck due to their close proximity; eyes starving and teeth digging into his bottom lip to seemingly contain himself.
“You’re still hungry?” she squeaks out with wide eyes when his fingers dent the skin of her waist as he tightens his grip on her.
“M’always hungry,” he rasps out, before clearing his throat.
And she silently curses her caring nature for the fact that she almost feels bad for him. Doesn’t want him to suffer but doesn’t want him to drink her dry either.
“What do you, um, usually eat?” she asks.
“Uh, mostly blood bags I steal from hospitals. And, well, humans, but been tryna cut down on that cause it’s not…nice. But blood from a plastic bag s’just not the same as fresh from the vein, you know? Doesn’t really, uh, satisfy the cravings...makes me want more,” he explains with a heady tone.
“Oh, um…you still wanna drink a little from me?” she has no idea why she’s offering more of her blood to him when she already feels so weak; blames it on those eyes that are near hypnotic when they seem so hopeless for some semblance of relief.
“Don’t say that shit, already took way too much from you,” he mutters lowly. However, with his eyes still glued to the skin of her neck, he leans closer; letting out a vulgar groan when he inhales. “Don’t know how you’re affecting me so much, usually can control myself better around humans.”
She shivers when she can feel the tip of his nose grazing against her jugular vein.
“If I just have a little bit…” and then his soft lips are tickling her skin and making her let out a tiny whimper— something innately erotic about his desperation for her.
All too soon though, he’s shoving her away from him and forcing her to take ahold of the arm of the couch in order to not lose her balance.
“No, no, I can’t,” his hands turn into fists. “Need you to leave, now,” he’s nearly panting along with his face wrinkled up in frustration as he practically drags her out the front door; slamming it shut behind her.
And she can’t do anything expect stand there and blink.
What on earth just happened?
#finally had an excuse to write about rafe being a grumpy vampire!#vampire!rafe#neighbor!reader#kinktober#obx kinktober#rafe imagine#rafe cameron#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe smut#rafe x reader#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x reader#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron fanfiction#obx fanfiction#obx#obx fic#outer banks#rafe cameron outer banks#outer banks fanfiction#rafe cameron obx#rafe x y/n#rafe cameron and reader#rafe cameron and y/n#rafe one shot#vampire#rafe cameron one shot#rafe cameron fic
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⚝ " i'll never smile again "
The hazbin boys are visibly stressed
Warnings : I used female pronouns. There are mentions of Valentino. Highly suggestive in Vox's part because yeah it makes sense. Alastor offers to go on a murderous rampage with the reader 🥰
Genre : Fluff, suggestive
A/n : I hate the people in my life and they stress me tf out so I'm writing to vent my frustrations out. :) I only included my favs in this one but if you would like a part two with other characters then say the word.
Characters : Alastor, Vox, Lucifer
▢ vox ᯤ
- Offering sexual favours -
Vox growled to himself gently as he typed away at the screen in front of him, eyes honing in obsessively on the words and news articles.
He was on media control right now because fucking Val blew up on Angel in public today.
Now he's forced to get rid of every media that is sculpting Valentino out to be the bad guy.
Whoopee fucking doo.
"Fuckin' Val... stupid idiot.... stupidly hot idiot." He sighed out, running his hands down his face tiredly then his eyes widened with an idea,"... Where's my assistant."
"Here, sir."
"Fuckin' christ-!" He yelped out at the sudden voice and he spun around quickly in his chair, coming face to face with her amused little shit-eating grin. He glared, scowl on his lips," You been there the whole time?"
"Yes, sir." She nodded, hands folded in her lap modestly.
"You're a little creep, y'know that?"
"Yes, sir."
He sighed and rolled his shoulders, wincing at the painful cracks that resounded from them," You seen the media?"
She nodded," yes, quite the 'clusterfuck' as you would put it."
His lip twitched in amusement," perfect descriptor, honestly." He then clicked his fingers at the screen," Is Troy on today? Tell him to deal with the rest of the articles pl-"
"It's Troy's day off today, sir." (Name) interrupted, walking so she was standing next to him, she leaned over him a little to click away at the tabs he had opened," But I will call him to come in. You need rest." She replied promptly.
Vox watched her with an almost sleepy look in his eyes, watching her close down the articles with quick and manicured claws.
"What would I do without you, eh?" He hummed out.
A chuckle flitted from her lips and he found himself entranced by the sound of it," I think you'd do well for yourself without me, sir." She reassured with a gentle voice and stepped away from the desk a little, turning to face him," would you like me to accompany you to your room?"
He blinked and then smirked," how forward of you, sweetheart." He cooed out with that sultry tone of his," Take me out to dinner first, yeah?"
She tilted her head to the side with an owlish blink,"... Would you like to go to dinner? Would that be a better form of stress relief for you that the first option?"
His mouth fell open with a shocked look as he stared at her, a little buffering symbol in the top right corner of his screen for a moment before it disappeared, a dark blush appearing on his face," f-fuck wait... w-were you suggesting we..."
"We have sex? Yes. I hear it's a rather fantastic way of stress relief and you are a rather sexually frustrated individual so it would-"
He place a hand over her mouth as he stood from his chair, basically towering over her.
There was a hungry look in his eyes as he let that charming grin twitch onto his lips," You're about the best damn fuckin' assistant I've ever had."
She smiled beneath his hand and grabbed onto his wrist gently, maneuvering it so she could place an oh-so-gentle kiss to his wrist whilst looking into his eyes," I'm honoured, sir." She hummed out in a sultry fashion.
Vox gulped, his self-control snapping, red leaking from his mouth," I'm gonna fuck the shit outta you."
"I wouldn't have it any other way, sir."
▢ alastor ⍋
- Expressing your issues over a glass of giggle juice -
A sigh and a huff fell from her lips as she made her way into the hotel lobby, shoulders sagging from a long day of work.
There seemed to be nobody in the lobby as she walked over to the bar and poured herself out a glass of whiskey.
"Late-night drinking? That's not like you." The familiar static of Alastor graced her ears.
(Name) blinked and looked over to him, noticing how tensed his smile seemed. His eyes looked... genuinely exhausted. His ears flopped downwards ever so slightly.
"Looks like you should be joining me," She hummed back and grabbed another glass, wiggling it at him suggestively.
He watched it for a second before relaxing and grabbing it, sitting next to her at the bar and pouring the liquid. He took a sip with her and his smile seemed to curl in a more soft way now.
"Hm, I dare say my dear, that does just hit the spot doesn't it?" He hummed out, a more relaxed expression on his face.
"You can say that again. No wonder Husk is an alcoholic, I understand the appeal after having an awful day." She replied with a nod of agreement," yknow, sometimes I wish Hell was just a personal purgatory instead of me having to deal with other people's shit."
"Agreed. It gets tiring, doesn't it? Makes you want to go a little batshit insane, yes?" He said this with a polite tone of voice, ears perked up.
"I want to go on a murderous rampage every second of every day."
"We could join forces if it ever came to that. We would kill twice the amount of demons."
She grinned at him," how flattering. You'd go on a murder spree with me, Al?"
He pressed a hand to his heart to express his genuine sincerity," Dear, if I ever say no to a question like that then I give you my full and utter permission to kill me in the most brutal way you can think of." He replied honestly, and (name) didn't know whether to be flattered or concerned but she found herself laughing along anyways.
"What a charmer," She grinned at him brightly," You can be so romantic when you want to, hm?"
"Romance has nothing to do with it. It is merely etiquette." He tilted his head at her, resting it in the palm of his hand, expression seemingly brightened from just a conversation with her," what's got you so downtrodden?"
She deflated a little, smile tired," Overworked and under-appreciated for the work I do." She replied simply, taking a sip of her whiskey," I'll never smile again~" She sang sadly.
Alastor perked up at the familiar song," until I smile at youuu~" he serenaded, smile only widening at the sound of her amused laughter.
Then he looked her over, an almost disappointed glint in his eyes," I still wonder why you work for that insolent shitbox after all these years." His smile seemed to sharpen at the thought of Vox," He doesn't deserve you at all. Not a single bit."
(Name) shrugged," I'm helpless, what can I say?"
"You're not. You're a strong woman, (name). Stand up for yourself. And if you can't stand?" His eyes glowed sinisterly," Break his legs off so you can."
She stared on for a second before raising her glass," Most sound advice I've heard for years."
Alastor barked out an amused laugh and raised his hlass to hers, "For that compliment? I will break his legs for you if it is needed, darlin'. "
Clink went their glasses as they enjoyed each other's company for a while longer.
▢ lucifer morningstar ⚝
- Gentle caresses and positive affirmations -
"Okay so... meeting with the angels next week... then I have to call Michael- eugh cowabummer... then I have to-"
(Name) watched her friend flail around his office with a concerned frown on her lips, arms crossed over her chest.
He's been so stressed lately. He had that little break in between where he could just... chill.
And make his cute rubber duckies.
But now with everything in the hotel, he's had a lot more work on his shoulders. Specifically with Heaven, as unfortunate as that was.
She saw his claws scratching through his hair as he paced back and forth, as though he was entranced by all these... issues. He's so entranced he's forgotten she's there with him.
So she sighed and lifted herself from the wall and walked into his walk-cycle path, grabbing onto his shoulders before he could crash into her.
He blinked in surprise and met eyes with her, a dumbfounded expression on his face," Oh... Hey."
She smiled," Hey."
"Sorry, you've probably heard me complain enough lately. Your pretty ears must be burning with all the yapping-"
"Of course not, Lou..." She huffed out, interrupting him with a frown of disapproval. Her hands moved from his shoulders to his arms, rubbing gentle touches of comfort," I think you've got too much on your plate lately - you using me as an outlet to vent to is the least of my problems."
He deflated a little, a tiredly wry grin on his lips," You're... you're too nice, y'know that?"
"What? You'd rather I spit and degrade you~?" She flirted teasingly with a fanged grin.
"No thanks... for now." He then sighed and moved his head to rest on her chest, cheek smooshing against her collar bone," I need a vacation."
(Name) laughed as she threaded her fingers through his mussed-up hair gently and soothingly," You were basically on a vacation already, hon. Now's the time to get back to work. Put all those wonderful thoughts and dreams to good use."
He melted in her arms, closing his eyes slowly as he wrapped his arms around her waist. This felt more domestic than platonic, but the two of them were too focused on eachother to admit that.
"You'll stay, right? I like having you here." He mumbled tiredly," U-unless you don't wanna which I totally understand and a-accept... y'know, you don't have to be here if you don't want t-"
"Stop worrying you dummy." (Name) chuckled out,"... I'd love to stay here with you."
"Phew..." He huffed and grinned sharply," Good to hear... a-amazing to hear!... Y... you're the best."
"Don't I know it~!"
#alastor x y/n#alastor x you#alastor x reader#lucifer x y/n#lucifer x reader#lucifer x you#lucifer morningstar x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel x y/n#vox x y/n#vox x you#vox x reader#vox x valentino#im sad and tired#writing can only save me from the bleak reality that is life
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Can I ask for prompt no 21 where r is mapi's younger sisters and both of them are reckless and play for Barcelona. R and mapi are skating despite warning from ingrid and Alexia and r accident while trying to impress a girl falls and break her hand and getting scolded and cared for by ingrid and alexiqla(platonic please)
Not Impressed
mapi x Leon!reader
warnings: broken bone, hospital
~~~
You and Mapi had a few hours off, and while most of the team was either relaxing or grabbing coffee, you two had a different plan in mind.
“Come on, Maps! Let’s go skateboarding,” you urged, holding up your skateboard and flashing a grin at your older sister.
Mapi hesitated, casting a side glance at you. “Are you sure you’re up for it? It’s been a while since we’ve been to the skate park…”
You rolled your eyes playfully. “Of course, I’m sure. It’ll be fine. Just like old times!”
“Fine,” Mapi finally said, giving in to your enthusiasm. “But we’re keeping it chill, okay? No crazy stunts.”
You nodded, your excitement growing as you both headed to the park. The weather was perfect for skating, a warm breeze brushing past as the sound of wheels against concrete filled the air. You felt the familiar thrill of freedom as you skated alongside Mapi, pushing the limits, pulling off little tricks and jumps, and feeling the rush of adrenaline.
As you skated, you couldn’t help but notice a girl standing nearby, watching the skaters with a keen interest. She was cute, and her eyes followed you as you glided by. You felt an urge to show off.
You shot Mapi a grin. “Watch this.”
Mapi raised an eyebrow but didn’t stop you. “Just don’t hurt yourself,” she warned, but you were already lining up for the trick.
It was a simple jump with a twist in the air—a trick you’d perfected back in the day. You didn’t think much of it as you sped up, pushing yourself down the ramp to gain enough momentum. But as you reached the peak of the ramp, you lost your balance mid-air. The twist wasn’t as smooth as you’d imagined, and your board slipped out from under you.
Time slowed as you fell, your body twisting in an awkward position. Your wrist took the full brunt of the impact, and you heard the sickening crack before the searing pain shot up your arm. You couldn’t help but cry out as you rolled onto your side, clutching your wrist.
“Shit!” you hissed, panic rising.
Mapi skated over quickly, eyes wide with concern. “Y/N! Are you okay?” she asked, crouching beside you as you winced in pain.
“I don’t think so,” you groaned, trying to move your hand but immediately pulling back with a sharp breath. “I think I broke it.”
Mapi’s face paled, and she swore under her breath. “I’m calling Ingrid. Don’t move, okay?”
“I don’t want Ingrid to find out,” you muttered, feeling sheepish. “She’s gonna be so mad.”
“I don’t care,” Mapi snapped, already pulling out her phone. “I’m calling her. Stay here.”
You slouched back against the concrete, trying to ignore the pain while Mapi dialed Ingrid’s number. As you waited, you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. All that just to impress a girl.
Ingrid answered quickly. “Hey, what’s up?”
“I… Ingrid, I messed up. Y/N hurt her wrist skating. It’s bad,” Mapi said, her voice tight with worry.
“What do you mean, bad?” Ingrid replied, her voice thick with concern. “Is she okay?”
“I don’t know. It’s swollen, and she can’t move it. We need to get her to the hospital,” Mapi explained, sounding panicked.
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line, and you could hear Ingrid take a deep breath before she responded. “Okay. Stay with her. Alexia and I are on our way. Don’t let her move it.”
“Got it. Thanks,” Mapi whispered, hanging up.
Mapi knelt down next to you, brushing your hair from your forehead gently. “Ingrid and Alexia are on their way, okay? We’re going to get you to the hospital. Just stay calm.”
You winced, holding your wrist as Mapi helped you up. The pain wasn’t as bad if you kept it still, but you knew it was serious. You waited in silence, trying to push away the embarrassment, but it kept creeping back in.
Within a few minutes, Ingrid and Alexia arrived, parking quickly and rushing over. Ingrid immediately ran to your side, her gaze scanning your swollen wrist before meeting your eyes.
“You alright?” Ingrid asked, her voice soft but concerned.
“I think it’s broken,” you murmured, guilt flooding your chest. “I didn’t mean to… I just wanted to impress that girl over there.” You gestured weakly in the direction of the girl who had been watching earlier, but by then, she was gone.
Alexia rolled her eyes, crossing her arms with a playful but stern expression. “Impress a girl, huh? I think you’ve learned your lesson there, huh?”
You looked down at your hand, feeling like an idiot. “I wasn’t thinking…”
Ingrid shook her head, but there was a small, teasing smile on her lips as she helped you to your feet. “Well, you’re going to the hospital now. Let’s get you sorted out.”
The drive to the hospital was a blur, but Ingrid and Alexia stayed by your side, offering calm reassurance. Mapi was quiet, clearly still worried but trying to keep herself together.
At the hospital, the doctors confirmed that your wrist was indeed broken, and they put you in a cast. You felt a little better knowing you wouldn't need surgery, but the shame still lingered.
As the four of you walked out of the hospital, Alexia shot you a smirk. “Next time you want to impress a girl, maybe try doing something a little less dangerous.”
You grinned sheepishly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Mapi wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into her side. “Just don’t do it again. You’re lucky it wasn’t worse.”
“I’m sorry, Mapi,” you muttered. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”
She ruffled your hair, a smile finally breaking through. “It’s okay. Just no more skateboarding for you.”
“I swear I’ll be more careful next time,” you said, chuckling.
Ingrid laughed softly. “And maybe next time, just ask for her number instead of trying to break your wrist. That might work better.”
#woso#woso x reader#fcb femení#fcb femení x reader#woso imagine#fc barcelona femeni#mapi leon#mapi leon imagine#mapi leon x reader#ingrid engen#alexia putellas#fcb femeni#woso imagines#woso fanfics
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And I Love Her
Sam Winchester x Reader
The reader and Dean are being tortured by Gordon Walker because of her relationship with Sam, and all they can do is hope he'll get there in time.
Word Count: 1.5k
Tags: Torture, graphic depictions of being cut into, descriptions of gore and severe bodily harm, Sam Winchester is out of character depending on who you ask
Characters: Sam Winchester, Reader, Dean Winchester, Gordon Walker
@ghostlyaccurate requested: "Hii! Can I request a Dean and/or Sam Winchester (sepperate) x fem! Reader set in season two, with an established relationship, where it's like when Gordon kidnaps Dean, but instead of just Dean he also kidnaps reader. (I can imagine if it's a Dean x reader Gordon uses reader to get Dean to not try anything, and if it's a Sam x reader Sam just going even more ballistic than he originally does in the show). Thank you!!"
Read it on AO3!
A/N: Beatles title. My first Sam fic! Honestly, it was really hard writing this one for some reason, and after five revisions I'm still not completely in love with it. Regardless, I hope you enjoy, and heed the warnings! Do not read if this will make you uncomfortable!
Sam Winchester Masterlist | Supernatural Masterlist | Main Page Masterlist
Gordon stared blankly at the wall in front of him while you tugged at the ropes on your wrists. A bandana was tied tightly around your mouth that tasted like dirt and your own blood. Dean was tied up to the left of you in a similar state, and both of you were staring down Gordon like it would kill him.
Traps lined every entrance from the doors to every small crack in the wall. Sam was powerful, but you doubted he could break through solid brick. Grenades, tripwire, even a shotgun trap that looked like something straight out of a movie; Gordon wanted Sam dead at all costs.
You knew your boyfriend would come to you and Dean’s rescue, but damn was this cutting it close. Gordon had already tried his best with Dean, but when it was your turn, he took his sweet-ass time.
He punched you, kicked you, even spit on you. Now, you tried your best to not scream as he dragged a knife against the soft flesh between your neck and shoulder.
You failed.
Biting down on the bandana, a muffled scream ripped through your lungs. You tried focusing on Dean, but he wouldn’t meet your eyes which were spilling over with more tears than you thought were in your body.
You could feel your blood dripping down your back and your chest, slithering its way to the floor as Gordon wiped his blade with the rag in his back pocket. He wrenched your head to the side, forcing the fresh wound close and for more tears to streak down your face.
He repeated his process on you a few times.
Your arms.
Your hands.
Your legs.
Every time somehow hurt more than the last, the hunter pulling open your skin and snapping it back together like a rubber band. Your vision was spotty, but you held steadfast to the thought that your boyfriend would be here any minute to save the day like he always did.
Gordon took a step back, wiping sweat and blood from his face and arms. He looked down at you with a glare that you’ve held plenty of times for the less-than-human creatures in the world. You guessed that, in his eyes, you, Sam, and Dean, were held in a similar regard.
Snaps.
Taunts.
Cracks.
Screams.
All because you fell in love with someone born under a bad sign.
You didn’t regret meeting Sam. Kissing him, falling for him, even the idea of just having him in your life was enough for your mind to justify the situation you were in. It wasn’t his fault you were having your life drained out of you minute by minute, and you hoped he would be smart enough to know that.
“Sam’s going to be here any minute, you know. Gotta convince himself he’s the hero of this story, and I’m the big,” Gordon turned to you, knife in hand, “bad, evil dragon. But I’m not the one with demon blood, am I, Y/N?” He placed the edge of the blade against the bottom of your chin. You could feel the cold steel heavy against your skin, and any sudden move would surely spill even more of your blood.
Dean glared at Gordon, his face shades of purple and blue, which mirrored the pain you felt along your entire body. Gordon dug the knife into the bottom of your chin, piercing your skin ever so slightly, but not enough to fatally wound you. Your mind was trying hard to hold onto the cracks of reality that remained in your vision; the smell of the dingy house you were in, the feeling of the carpet making contact with your boots, anything that wouldn’t send your consciousness reeling over was enough of an anchor for you to hang onto.
Gordon walked away from the two of you, returning to his position of peering out one of the boarded-up windows in wait for Sam. You glanced at Dean, which granted you a glance back from him. His eyes were dry, but they held enough behind them to let you know what he was thinking. Sam was going to burst into this booby-trapped hellhole, and Dean could do nothing but blame himself.
It’s all your fault, really, a thought that smashed through what you knew was the truth said.
This isn’t any of our faults, you told it back, wanting to tell Dean the same. Sam wasn’t to blame for the two of you being taken, and neither of you was at fault for being used as bait; it all landed in the hands of the rogue hunter who deemed himself holier-than-thou.
Though you couldn’t see yourself, you knew you were starting to resemble a bloody pulp more than a human being. Dean could barely look your way for longer than a second, and deep cuts that surged whether you moved or not continued to scrape away at your consciousness.
Gordon disappeared, and as you tried to turn your head to follow him, you felt a burning pain across your chest. Highlighted by a spurt of blood splattering over your thighs, you wanted to vomit. The top of your head started to feel like it was being lifted off from the rest of your skull, and the black spots in your vision connected at the edges of your eyes.
You grunted, head going slack and opening wounds on the back of your neck. Either spit, blood, or bile dripped out of your mouth, but at that moment you didn’t care- the black at the corners of your eyes bled together, and all you could do was limply hope Sam would find you.
You blinked, slowly, noticing light creeping in from the boarded-up windows. The second thing you noticed was the searing pain in your body, coupled with grunting and what you could guess was a well-landed punch.
“Y/N!” Someone called out to you, but you could barely lift your head to meet their voice. The bandana in your mouth was pulled away and hands cupped your face, warming your skin that was ice cold after losing so much blood.
The hands left your face and moved to the ropes at your wrists, cutting them off quickly and placing your arms in your lap. You forced your eyes up high enough to see it was your hero, Sam, standing before you with tears starting to fill his eyes. If your face would’ve let your smile, you would’ve, but every movement flashed the memory of Gordon cutting into you.
Gordon.
“Where’s-” You managed to sputter out through a sore jaw and a severely dry mouth.
“Dead,” Sam answered coldly. For the first time, you noticed his knuckles were a hue of bright purple, complimented with blood splattering up his arm. Sam moved your arms around his neck and picked you up as gently as he could.
“Dean’s already in the car patching himself up. I’m going to try and lay you down in the back seat so we can get to the closest hospital. I left Gordon in the room by the first door, so keep your head to my chest if you don’t want to see him, okay?” He asked softly. The tears that were in his eyes had faded slightly, but you could see the emotions he’d no doubt try to hide later on. Regret, blame, guilt - the more he looked at you, the more you could sense that your battered state was tearing away at his consciousness. You wanted to reach out, hold his face, and tell him you’d be okay, you’d survived worse, that it wasn’t his fault, but your thoughts were halted by Sam stepping past Gordon’s body.
If you could call it a body, that is.
His nose was sunken into his face enough that his eyes were slightly popping out of their sockets. His mouth had more gums than teeth, which were scattered around the room. He was lying against a dresser, and his limbs were spread out in the wrong directions. You thought you saw a bone, but before you could look closer, Sam turned and shut the door behind you.
Sam laid you across the back seats of the Impala, trying his best to be gentle with the abhorrent number of cuts across your body. You couldn’t guess how the hospital wasn’t going to ask questions, but you hoped the brothers would figure that out. Your head laid in Sam’s lap, and he looked out the window as Dean buried Gordon.
“Sam,” you slowly moved one of your arms to his face, bringing his attention to you, “thank you. You saved us both. You had to do what you had to do.”
Sam smiled but still didn’t say a word as he dipped down and planted a gentle kiss on your forehead.
You wanted to be able to tell him everything your racing mind was coming up with but were beaten by the overwhelming need to not move. Dean climbed into the front seat, beating the gas pedal to the floor and hitting the highway as Sam ran his fingers comfortingly through your hair.
#spn#supernatural#dean winchester#sam winchester#castiel#destiel#deancas#supernatural 2005#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural fic#sam winchester x y/n#sam winchester x you#sam winchester fanfiction#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester smut#sam and dean#sam winchester angst#supernatural reader insert#sam spn#spn fanfiction#jack kline#spnfandom
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Cute Kabukimono can't finish without the reader, but the reader is busy with Scaramouche and the Wanderer, so Kabuimono is offended at us, but we will eventually pay more attention to him while he (like brothers) is watching this ^^" 🤍
Scaramouche x fem!reader. Kunikuzushi (Kabukimono) x fem!reader. Wanderer x fem!reader. Smut. Foursome. Masturbation. Scara receiving. Multiple creampie. Degrading praise. Soft!Dom Kuni
This was really fun to write😳 I still feel like collosal shit, so bear with me😭 I think the new strain of CoVid got me, JN something.
Poor Kunikuzushi wasn't handling the sight in front of him so well. His brothers are so greedy and mean. Wanderer was fucking into you from behind, making you muffle the sweetest, prettiest moans on Scaramouche's cock as he fucked into your throat.
Kunikuzushi hastily fisted his aching cock, letting out strained moans as he rutted into his hand, his eyes trained on the way your pussy was swallowing Wanderer's cock. He couldn't get off without you. Without thrusting his cock inside of you. Without your hand or your mouth on his cock. He is so devoted to you that only you could make him cum.
"Such an obedient slut, taking my cock so well while my brother ruins you," Scaramouche crooned, stroking a hand through your hair before pushing his cock into your throat.
Kunikuzushi shook with jealousy. You looked up at Scaramouche with watery eyes of such adoration. Though you looked at him the same way, it was with softer adoration. You'd always responded so well to the dominant aggression his brothers had with you. Dominant aggression that he didn't quite have.
To say Kunikuzushi has always been jealous of his brothers was an understatement. Though he often hide it well, his composure cracked in bed sometimes. Now was one of those times.
Scaramouche and Wanderer always got to cum inside of you in some way first, whether it in your holes or in your mouth, that's the way it's always been. He knew even if he tried to intervene, he would smacked away by either Scaramouche or Wanderer. Leaving him desperate and shaking until it was finally his turn.
It was bad enough that Wanderer decided to drag out indulging himself once he emptied his cock inside of you, fingering whatever cum that leaked out back inside of you. Your back arched in bliss, your hips rolling back into his fingers as drool pooled from the corners of your mouth, gagging slightly on Scaramouche's cock.
"You sound so fucking pathetic over there, brat," Scaramouche snapped shakily, holding your mouth down on his cock as it pulsed cum into your mouth. Kunikuzushi's eyes narrowed into a glare that Scaramouche completely missed, he looked away to watch you lick cum from the corner of your mouth after he took his cock out of it.
"He has always been the weaker one," Wanderer added, lightly smacking a hand across your ass. You mewled softly feeling the sting on now inflamed flesh, "It's no wonder you fold so easily in the face dominance," His fingers rubbed your sensitive clit for a few moments, smirking at you as you squirmed.
"You don't have to be so mean to Kuni," You managed to say in a shaky tone, rolling over onto your back exhausted. Scaramouche scoffed at your comment, and Wanderer simply smirked at it. He wasn't going to say anything more antagonizing. At your behest of course, and because he'd sensed the seething change in Kunikuzushi.
He was quite content to stroke his cock and enjoy the show that was about to unfold.
Kunikuzushi let go of his cock, and crawled over to you. His fingers caressed over your cheek before trapping your wrists above your head. You look so beautiful, all fucked out with cum spattered on your abused pussy. "They didn't let you cum, did they?" He crooned in a voice you'd never heard before, "My brothers are far too rough with you."
Scaramouche made the move that set Kunikuzushi off. Scaramouche was so greedy that he couldn't stand it if he wasn't making you squirm in some way. He moved to your side, leaning his head down to suck on one of your nipples.
His eyes widened when Kunikuzushi smacked him away. "You have had enough time. Back off," Kunikuzushi snapped, grinding his cock on your puffy pussy before thrusting inside.
Your cheeks flushed, a loud moan tearing from your throat. You'd never seen Kuni like this before. "K-Kuni!" You cried out, your gummy walls clamping tight on his cock as it kissed your sweet spot. Where was this exhilarating dominance coming from? It took your breath away, heated arousal pulsing on your pussy.
"You little! Who said I was finished?" Scaramouche bit back. He grit his teeth, his cock pulsing watching the way your pussy stretched on Kunikuzushi's cock. He glared at Wanderer when he put his hand on Scaramouche's shoulder.
Kunikuzushi however, has already tuned both of them out. He was focused solely on you now. "You just keep rocking your hips up just like that while I make you cum," He groaned, his hand tightening on your wrists. He carefully calculated his thrusts, making sure his cock head nudged firm into your sweet spot.
"Kuni! Kuni, please! I'm so close," You whimpered, and it sounded as heavenly to Kunikuzushi as your pussy felt finally enveloping his cock. You were begging him to make you cum, even with your body as you rocked your hips up obediently exactly like he'd asked.
"Go on, pretty," He purred, finding it hard not to go completely limp with pleasure from how good you felt. You had been filled with the same, tense and desperate need to cum as he had. "Cum on my cock like the obedient slut you were with my brothers," His hips snapped fluidly into yours, determined to feel you cream on his cock before he filled you full.
You couldn't help it, the dizzying pleasure of Kunikuzushi's cock thrusting inside of your already sensitive cunt, you were cumming suddenly. Kunikuzushi struggled to hold you still as you shook with pleasure, soaking in every lewd moan he pulled from you.
Knowing that he was the first to make you cum tonight, coupled with the warm, tight feeling of your cunt as it clenched was enough to make his cock empty inside of you. "Fuck, finally," He mumbled drunkenly, letting go of your wrists to nuzzle into your neck.
A little dominance, however soft his had been, really went a long way.
#genshin impact#genshin smut#fem!reader#genshin imagines#scaramouche#scaramouche smut#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche x y/n#scaramouche x you#wanderer#wanderer smut#wanderer x reader#wanderer x you#wanderer x y/n#kunikuzushi#kunikuzushi smut#kunikuzushi x you#kunikuzushi x reader#kunikuzushi x y/n
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Nightmares - Tyler Owens
The air was muggy and heavy, heat coursing through it. You could smell the tornado coming in the air; a smell that was 100% Oklahoma during the spring. The sky was a dark black and the clouds were forming into a funnel cloud above your head. The rain was slow to come but was coming down now. “Baby, my rigs rated for an EF1. I’ll be okay.” Tyler’s words echoed in your mind as the sirens started to blare and suddenly you were in an empty field.
Well, it wasn’t completely empty. The all too familiar red truck was in the middle as the tornado was descending from the sky. The tornado was a lot bigger than you thought it would be and it was headed straight for your boyfriend. “Ty!” You were calling out to him, the wind stealing your voice and taking custody of it. “Ty! You gotta go!” You were screaming at them top of your lungs, watching as the darkness enveloped his truck.
You were screaming until you were hoarse, watching in a panicked state as your boyfriend’s truck got picked up by the winds and force of the beast that was on top of him now. It picked the truck up and threw it like it was a hot wheel-
You shot up in bed, tears rolling down your cheeks. Your heart was absolutely hammering in your chest and your breaths were coming out in ragged, uneven pants. You could feel Tyler reaching out for you, starting to worry at the lack of your presence. “Baby?” His voice was deep and laced with sleep, his hand resting on your knee as he slowly pulled himself up in bed.
He heard your sniffles and your uneven breathing, his eyes snapping open as he got noticeably worried. “Hey, hey. Talk to me.” His words were soft as he enveloped you in a warm embrace, pulling you into his body. You were shaking and almost unable to speak, the dream right on the cusp of your memory. You could’ve even think of it without more tears streaming down your cheeks.
You let out a soft sob, your chest heaving. You knew he had a dangerous job and he loved it. But, you couldn’t help the fact that you worried about him. You had been through tornadoes before and knew just how dangerous they could be. “It got you. The tornado got you.” Your voice was panicky and cracking as you looked at him, a look that absolutely broke his heart. He knew you worried but he didn’t know it was this bad.
“C’mere..” He murmured out the words as he pulled you into his body, his own leaning over you as he coaxed you to lay down beside him. “No tornado is scary enough to get me.” He teased and sighed when he saw the glare you leveled his way, his fingers brushing through the hair that was stuck to your sweaty forehead. “My perfect girl.. always so worried about me..” He whispered the words as he leaned in to kiss your cheek, his nose nuzzling against your clammy skin as you tried to push him away. But, it was to no avail.
He held your hips, pulling your back against his bare chest. He held you close, this arms enveloping you in a tight hug. He was grounding you and you could feel the air slipping back into your lungs. They were no longer burning and you could feel them expanding now with each and every breath you took. You could feel his arms massaging your shoulders and gently running down to your wrists as he tried to soothe you even more.
He pulled the blankets up over the two of you as you settled back into his warmth, feeling the thoughts of the nightmares slowly slipping away. Tyler was your person and it was even more obvious in moments like this. He was allowing his hands to soothe down over your skin, sliding up under the big t shirt of his you were wearing. “I love you.” You breathed the words out as you allowed your eyes to slowly slide closed, relaxing into his touch. “I love you more, angel.” He brushed his nose against the shell of your ear before he peppered kisses along your jaw. “Get some rest. I’m right here.” And you could finally feel yourself relaxing enough to sleep, knowing that he was safe and right next to you.
#twisters imagine#twisters imagines#Tyler Owens imagines#Tyler Owens imagine#Tyler Owens fanfic#Tyler Owens fanfiction#twisters fanfiction#Tyler Owens#Twisters fanfic#Tyler Owens x you#Tyler Owens x reader#Tyler Owens x y/n#reader x Tyler Owens#you x Tyler Owens#y/n x Tyler Owens
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ULTRAMINE ~ CHAPTER 5
kenji sato x reader
summary: kenji finds a secret that you have been keeping from him and it's making him doubt everything about you
pairings: kenji sato x fem!student!reader
warning: angst, arguments, emi defending you, mention of violence, gore, blood, and death, onset of a panic attack
masterlist !
an undercover agent.
working for the kdf
kenji's mind was whirling as he glared at your watch with utmost loathing. he was up early that morning, not being able to sleep much with the information he had discovered.
"good morning," you walked into his lab in the basement.
the watch slipped his grasp and he accidently kicked it your way.
you turned towards it and your expression turned alarmed at once, "kenji... where did you find that?" you had an idea of what he might of seen if he had your watch.
kenji turned around to face you, his eyes blazing with anger as he strode towards you, "the kdf? seriously?"
"oh god, ken," you covered your face with your hands, "it's not what it looks like-"
"i can't believe I trusted you. all along, you were working against us. you're nothing but a traitor!"
you flinched at his words, hurt by the disappointment and betrayal in his voice. but despite the pain, you didn't know how to tell him the truth. so you steeled yourself for his barrage of accusations.
"you had me fooled all this time. it was all just a facade, wasn't it? you were leading me on, using me to get what you wanted,"
"please, let me explain," you tried to speak, your frustration rising, "allow me to explain. i need you to trust me, kenji," you picked up the watch and strapped it around your wrist.
"i can't. not anymore," he snapped in disdain, "I thought I wasn't good enough for you, when it was you who was wrong all along, "you know deep down that you're not good enough, don't you? that's why you're always trying so hard to prove yourself. you're just a poser, pretending to be something you're not,"
your shoulders sagged at his words and your expression cleared. you swore you heart your heart crack.
ah, he hit the home run.
emi stepped between you and kenji, crying out in perplexity. she had never seen you argue with each other, but now, she didn't like it one bit.
kenji stared up at her, "step aside, young lady! you're gonna be in big trouble!"
emi trilled in retaliation, glancing at you in confusion.
you wanted to defend yourself, to prove that he was wrong, but something didn't feel right.
you couldn't breathe.
a chill slithered down your sweaty back, bursting into a shiver throughout your body.
kenji yelled, losing all sense, "emi! you're taking her side but she's the bad guy! she will kill you!"
"that's enough, kenji!" professor sato thundered, having just entered the lab, and having heard enough.
you froze, all of it sinking it. the words ascended your throat to defend yourself, and when you opened your mouth, you could hardly breathe.
you clutched your chest, scurrying out of the lab, ignoring professor sato's calls.
emi hurried after you, sobbing, but the tube elevator had disappeared out of view. she slumped down in her place with a pout, ears drooping down.
you barged into your room, leaning on the edge of your bed, and slid down the floor.
the memories of your past come rushing back to you like a tidal wave.
flashes of your parents’ faces, their voices, and the sound of the door being broken down by armed guards fill your mind.
you were transported back to that terrifying day when your parents were arrested, your body trembling with fear and anger. You watched as the guards roughed up your parents, grabbing them without any consideration.
you feel the familiar pang of betrayal as you watch your parents being dragged into the van, their shouts of protest silenced by the KDF officers.
"no," you hit the side of your head repeatedly to knock off the images, "stop it!"
the scene changed, and you saw your parents being taken to a high-security facility. you watched as they were separated and taken to different rooms, their faces etched with worry and pain.
as you follow your parents, the memory begins to blur and shift. you can see your parents being subjected to intense questioning, their bodies bound to chairs as their minds are probed and invaded.
screams of pain echoed throughout the facility they tortured your parents to no end. blood oozing out of their skin where they had been beaten and battered up for information.
as you came out of the flashback, you were brought back to the present moment. the memories of your parents' arrest and torture came flooding back, and you felt yourself starting to spiral into yourself.
your breathing became shallow, your hands shaking, your mind racing with images of your parents in agony and drenched in blood.
your knees buckled, and you found yourself sinking to the ground. you could feel the onset of a panic attack, your body beginning to shake, chest tightening.
your watch beeped and your warbird suit encapsulated you, covering you from head to toe, metal plates shifting upwards over your body.
"no, not now," you screwed your eyes shut, reaching out to reality and attempting to steady your breathing.
snapping them open, your suit lit up and you began to gather yourself.
"her parents died that day," professor sato explained to kenji over the cries of emi, "they didn't make it through the interrogation. at first, y/n's father thought they were getting arrested for the identity of warbird, partner in crime of ultraman," he scoffed, "but they were wrong. it was for their involvement in kaiju studies. y/n's father knew where kaij island was. so they thought they could torture it out of him. it got so severe that they-" he paused, screwing his eyes shut in agony, "they tortured them to death," his voice shook.
kenji shut his eyes, his heart heavy with sorrow, regret, and guilt. The weight of his actions and the full extent of his guilt started to sink in, and he began to understand the gravity of his words.
"the kdf disposed of their bodies by faking a car accident. inconsiderate of the little girl that was orphaned," professor sato's heart ached at the memory, his eyes getting glassy.
"y/n got into the kdf under a fake name by using her skill and expertise to know why they were specifically after emi. and also to know if her parents were, by some miracle, still alive,"
"kenji, professor sato," mina interrupted, "dr. y/n is experiencing a panic attack. i suggest immediate assistance before her condition gets worse,"
kenji felt his heart drop, "where is she?" he spun around to face the ai, who was also worried for you.
"in the guest room, but kenji-"
he didn't let her finish. he rushed to the elevator, his brain screaming at him to get to you at once, "dad, watch emi, i'll go check in on y/n,"
once kenji skidded to a stop in front of your room, he found the door ajar. stepping in, he took in the bedroom's state of disarray.
several items were strewn across the room as though you had stumbled over them. the sheets on the bed were yanked off, leaving the mattress exposed.
but most of your things were gone, and so were you, leaving the balcony door open.
he sat alone in the empty room, consumed by a wave of guilt that seemed to crush him. he replayed the argument over and over in his mind, your broken expression, berating himself for the heated words he had spoken and the hurtful tone he had used.
he regretted allowing his emotions to boil over and push you away. the silence of the room was almost deafening, intensifying his sense of remorse and longing for your presence.
TAGLIST !
@earth-to-mee @sassy-cat-in-town @breaddippedinorangejuice @nuhteyam @gameboigyu @byunpum @jennypenny-19 @doublebunv @moonjellyfishie @m00nd0v3 @despacito-uwu16 @reivelmin @seyoran @warlike-morning @crimson-mage-02 @b3e-sat0 @miffysoo @t4naiis @lovingyeet @imsimping4life @mmeerraa @btszn @jusmango-shak @yobriisstuff @goldenpoison @fruchtgeschmack @iateurdad16 @bandolls @lovingyee @reivelmin @f-ergj @arrozyfrijoles23 @aise-30 @simp-hub @armycaratlover
AUTHOR'S NOTE !
ahhh!! i'm sorry for the angst, my loves!
they will make it up to each other so, don't worry about it. even after i finish the series, i'll be writing drabbles because i can't get enough of kenji sato. if you guys have any requests, don't hesitate to send them.
also, do you guys want another smut chapter? i think it'll be an overkill. but if you guys want it, i'll make it work somehow;)
let me know below <33
#ken sato#ultraman#emi ultraman#ken sato x reader#kenji sato x reader#kenji sato#ultraman rising#ultraman rising x reader#accioscarheadthings#kenji sato smut
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omg omg i need weird!reader and rafe walking around the woods and reader getting horny so rafe fucks her real good kdjwoqywlsbqks i cant
A million times yes. This is so them I’m obsessed. Thank you for this idea nonnie! Fucking outside, choking, rough unprotected sex, bondage, lil bit of breeding kink, spanking(with a belt), and a lil bit of fluff at the end, as a treat. A lil over 2k words. 18+MDNI!!
It was an average Saturday afternoon for you and Rafe. You drug him out to some random ass spot in the woods for one of your impromptu photo shoots and also “to look for cool rocks” in your own words. Rafe used to act semi annoyed that you turned him into a trained Instagram boyfriend but at this point he’s happy to do it. He loves watching you get dressed in your pretty little outfits and how you always have a vision down to the scenery. He adores your creativity.
After he had snapped probably over a hundred photos of you the two of you slowly made your way back to the car. You weren’t in any hurry. It was a beautiful day as the sun started to set into dusk, the glowing golden light shining through the branches of the trees as a perfect temperature breeze blew through your hair. You look at your boyfriend with heart eyes as he treks through the crunchy foliage with his hand in yours. His white tee is taunt around his shoulders and it’s just short enough that everytime he lifts his arms just right it reveals a sliver of his waist. The dark washed jeans he’s wearing are hugging his ass just right and there was just something about him in a SnapBack that made you feel especially feral. It didn’t hurt that he did all of this just for you, who could blame you if you wanted him to fuck you into the dirty forest floor.
“Heeeeyyy, Raafeee.” You call out to him in a sing song tone that causes him to let out a sigh because you only use that tone when you want something or you’re about to ask him some outlandish shit.
“What is it, princess?” His steps come to a halt and he turns his large frame towards you as he gives you a skeptical look.
“Do you wanna fuck?” You look up at him with a devilish smirk that completely contradicts how much of an angel you look like right now. The sun is shining through the trees down onto you like a spotlight in that pretty little white dress and sometimes he truly can’t believe you’re real.
“Right now?” Rafe chuckles as he returns your smirk with one of his own.
“Yeah, right fuckin’ now, baby. I want you to fuck me into the dirt.” Your voice is saccharine as you close the distance between you and lace your fingers in the soft cotton material of his shirt.
“God, I fuckin’ love you, you know that?” The corner of Rafe’s lips quirk into a smirk and his hands snake around you to grab onto your ass through the thin material of your dress.
“Yeah? You’re pretty alright too, I guess.” You giggle and lean towards him so your bodies are flush against each other as you look up at him through your lashes.
“Good. Because I’m about to fuck you into the ground like a dirty little whore.” Rafe starts to walk you until your back is pressed against a nearby tree before wrapping his hand around your throat and using his grip to connect your lips in a messy, wet kiss. Rafe grabs onto your hips and flips you so you're facing the tree. He grips onto your wrists so he can guide your hands to rest against the rough bark as his knee pushes your legs open at the same time. His palms run down your arms to your lower back where he pushes until you’re arched enough for his liking.
“Oh, look at you. You look so pretty in this dress baby. Like a fuckin’ Angel or some shit.” He runs his hands over your asscheeks before grabbing onto them roughly squeezing and jiggling your plush skin. “Too bad I’m gonna get you all dirty…”
He roughly pushes your dress up before cracking his hands down on both sides of your ass.
“Oh fuuuck.” You whine and moan as he spanks you again and again.
“Get this shit outta my fuckin’ way.” His fingers loop through the holes in your white fishnets before tearing them at the crotch and not stopping until your entire ass was exposed to him. He groans at the sight before him. The tights are ripped so they’re practically framing your ass like a piece of fucking art. You’re so wet the inside of your thighs are glistening and that tiny white thong was practically being swallowed by your creamy pussy.
“Goddamn, my perfect fuckin’ slut. So wet for me and I haven’t even touched your desperate little cunt yet.” You hear the sound of his belt buckle clanking and your pussy clenches in anticipation at what’s to come.
“You gonna spank me with your belt daddy?” Rafe can hear the smirk in your voice as you wiggle your ass and arch your back further. He swears if he had a ring he might propose to you right now.
“Yeah. You’re getting ten. Count.” You hear the whoos of the expensive leather gliding through the air before it lands a harsh smack on your ass.
“Oh fuck! One.” He glides the smooth leather across your skin before giving you another, harsher smack. “Two!”
“Now, say ‘thank you daddy’.” Two more blows come down on either side of your ass and it has you jolting forward causing the rugged bark of the tree to dig into your soft palms.
“Three. Four! Thank you daddy!” Five, six, and seven are the hardest yet but you count them all, thanking him after each one.
“So good for me, princess. Look so fuckin’ sexy right now. Two more. Count em’.” Rafe slides the belt between your legs, bringing it up to smack against your wet, barely clothed cunt.
“Fuck - oh my god - Nine.” He hits your pussy again and you feel like your legs are going to buckle from the mix of pain and pleasure your boyfriend is dealing you. “Ten!”
“Good fuckin’ girl, think you earned a reward, huh?” Rafe pushes your panties to the side and shoves two fingers knuckle deep inside you all in one motion. You don’t even have time to think before he’s thrusting them in and out of you at a brutal pace. “Gimme one, cum all over my fingers and then I’ll pound this tight little pussy till you cry.”
Rafe curves his fingers and pushes his thumb against your clit and that’s all it takes to have you gushing around his thick digits. “Yeah, that’s fuckin’ it, fuckin’ cum for me.”
He doesn’t stop until he feels your walls stop pulsing around him and your knees start to buckle. He pulls your back against his front and shoves his slick covered fingers past your lips. You take them in, greedily sucking your own taste from his skin.
“Please fuck me.” You whine and push your ass back against his clothed cock. He pulls his fingers from your mouth so he can push the straps of your dress down causing it to pool around your feet. You’re bare before him aside from what’s left of your tights and the black platform boots on your feet.
“Get on your knees. Hands behind your back.” You oblige him, lowering yourself down onto the fallen leaves and dirt below you. Rafe kneels down behind you with his belt in hand and wraps it around your wrists so you’re bound before him. “My perfect little toy. My pretty little doll tied up all pretty for me.”
He grabs onto one of your tits roughly pinching your nipple between two of his fingers while the other grips onto your jaw. His hard cock presses against your ass and god you want him so bad. He presses wet, open mouthed kisses on the column of your throat before licking a stripe along it.
“Tell me. Tell me you’re my pretty little toy to use.” The hand not on your jaw starts to make work of his button and zipper, pulling his thick cock from his pants. He thrusts forward so it slides perfectly between your thighs, his hard shaft rubbing perfectly between your pussy lips.
“I’m your toy, daddy. Just a hole for you. Please fuck me.” You whine and wiggle your hips, rubbing your messy cunt on his cock, desperate for any friction.
“I love it when you’re desperate and pathetic.” You can hear the smirk in Rafe’s voice as his large hand splays across your upper back and pushes you down until your cheek is against the ground and your ass is in the air. “Gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”
He lines himself up with your entrance and slams into you to the hilt. He immediately finds your sweet spot as he plunges his cock deep inside of you at a brutal pace. He grips onto the belt restraining your hands, using it to pull you back harder onto his cock with each thrust.
“Yeah daddy, fucking use me.” Rafe practically growls at your words as his free hand comes down to press your cheek further into the mud. It's so messy and primal. The way he’s fucking you like a bitch in heat while the ground below you dirties your skin and your milk white tights. Your expensive calf high boots are surely covered as well but you can’t bring yourself to care when this just might be the hottest sex you’ve ever had. Rafe uses his grip on the belt to pull you up so your back is flush against him, forcing him even deeper than ever as he continues to impale you with his thick cock.
“You’re so fuckin’ nasty, I fuckin’ love you.” Rafe grips onto your throat and it has your pussy pulsing around him as you cum undone on his dick. “Fuck, that’s right, cum on my cock, my perfect little whore.”
“Fuck, I love you daddy, I love you, I love you.” You’re babbling, drunk off his cock as drool starts to drip down your chin and onto Rafe’s digits. “Want your cum. Fuck me full, want it so bad.”
“Oh fuuuuck. Yeah - fuck yeah baby, gonna breed this cunt, don’t worry. Daddy’s gonna give you his cum.” You feel his cock slip from inside you and before you can question what he’s doing he’s unlooping your hands and flipping you onto your back. His dick slides back into you with ease, you lock your legs around his hips, using your boot covered feet to push him even deeper. His hands come down on either side of your head as he resumes fucking you vigorously.
“Takin’ me so well, princess, my dirty fuckin’ girl.” Rafe leans down so he can connect your lips in a filthy kiss as his plush lips practically swallow you whole. “Oh - fuck - I’m gonna fuckin’ cum.”
His hips slam against yours over and over before he tenses above you as he paints your walls. The feeling sends you over the edge with him as you milk his cock for all it’s worth.
“Goddamn.” Rafe chuckles as he pushes himself up so he can look down at you. Your hair is a disaster of leaves and tangles, there’s dirt smudged on your cheeks and across your chest but god do you still look like an angel. “You’re perfect, ya know that?”
“Mmm, you’re pretty perfect too.” You giggle and pull him down into a much more tender kiss. He obliges you for a few moments before pulling away.
“Aight, let’s get off this dirty ass ground and get you home, yeah? Get you in a bath and shit.” He pushes himself up and tucks his cock back into his pants before leaning down to hook his hands under your arms and man handle you to your feet. He grabs your dress from the ground and pulls it over your head before trying to get a few of the leaves out of your hair.
“Yeah, that sounds perfect. I love you, Rafe.” You smile at him like he’s your whole world and he feels his heart warm. He’s been wanting to marry you more and more lately.
“Got me all fuckin’ soft.” Rafe scoffs and rolls his eyes as he takes your hand in his and leads you back to the car.
All Things Rafe & His Weird!Girl Here
Tagging some moots: @sturnioloshacker @bimbotrashcan @babygorewhore @starkeysprincess
#divider is @strangergraphics#weird!girl reader#Dolly writes#requests#rafe Cameron#rafe blurb#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe smut#rafe Cameron smut#rafe x reader#rafe cameron blurb#rafe fanfiction#rafe outer banks#rafe one shot
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Babe, imagine Dazai, but like tied up with a collar and all, vibrator stuffed into him while he's whimpering and rubbing himself against you like the shameless slut he is
–🫧
he’s such a pathetic whore.
you can’t even cuddle innocently on the couch after work without him trying to jump you. it was a long day and you’re exhausted—you told him this, but he’s relentless. please, just let me fuck your thighs! please, just let me grind on your ass! he wants you that bad? fine, he can have you, but you’re going to use the last remaining bit of energy you have to lead him to bed by the neck of his shirt and sit him down before you slide the box out from beneath the mattress.
“quit squirming,” you tell him as you snap the collar around his throat—he doesn’t quit squirming, it only spurs him on—and move to bind his wrists behind him with the pretty black length of rope. you slip the remaining length through the d-ring at the back of his neck, bowing his back in a subtle arch before ordering him onto his knees with his face in the pillows.
it’s cute to watch him struggle, fall face-first a little bit as he positions himself where you want him—you’re coating your fingers with lube as his back falls into a more severe arch, his pretty ass wiggling in the air. he lets out a shameless, full-bodied moan when you yank his boxers down and circle the rim of his hole; another when you start to work him open on one finger, then two; he’s trying desperately to fuck back against you by the time you’re slipping the vibrating plug into him, whining about how he needs it, this is torture, it would’ve been easier if you would’ve just let him fuck you.
you tsk at him as you nestle the plug in his ass down to the base and fish the little remote out of the box.
“lay down,” you coo as you snap the waistband of his boxers back in place and slide the box back under the bed; again, it’s cute to watch him struggle. but he ends up on his stomach, elbows bent to accommodate the rope connected to his collar, and you get up to flick the light off before snuggling into bed next to him, satisfied with your work.
“baby,” he whines.
you shush him, nuzzling against him, wedging your thigh between his—god, he’s hard—and, with the remote in hand, slinging your arm across his waist. he scrambles against you, desperate for friction in the crook of your hip; with your other arm curled beneath his head, you settle in, sigh, and press a soft kiss to his trembling lips before closing your eyes and clicking the vibrator on to the lowest setting.
“ah!” he gasps, his pelvis hitching against yours.
“go ahead,” you mumble to him. “get yourself off. told you ‘m tired.”
so he ruts against you steadily as you drift off to sleep, sobbing quietly in a way that fades into white noise for you. you’re pretty sure he calls you cruel a couple times before you totally lose consciousness, but you just smile a little through your barely-awake state, not even gracing him with your usual praises of good boy, Osamu, doing so good for me. maybe you are cruel.
you’re totally asleep by the time he cums, whining and making a sticky mess against you in his boxers—as he twitches against the aftershocks of his climax he wonders if you’ll leave him like this all night, vibrator in his ass, arms bound behind him; how the hell is he supposed to sleep now? you are cruel.
he wakes up from an uncomfortable sleep in the early hours of the morning to you undoing his restraints, working the plug out of him—and he’s unbearably hard again.
“morning, good boy,” you whisper. “still wanna fuck me?”
you better believe he stretches his sore arms out, cracks his neck and rolls on top of you with fervor—whether or not you’ll regret what you did to him a mere few hours ago will be up to you. ⊹
#this got out of hand#sorry for being an ask hoarder#but this one is resonating today#dazai x reader#dazai smut#bsd smut#reid speaks.ᐟ#with love—reid#nnnsfw.ᐟ#. . .🫧 anon
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Okay your Spencer smut might be the best I've ever read, could you maybe do one about Spencer absolutely manhandling reader and just like really rough sex. Idk maybe some jealousy or a bad case and he needs to take his anger out on you, just whatever you want.
And like just really rough with like edging and overstimulation and dacryphilia and just very very rough. And maybe some sweet aftercare or something like that
I'm in desperate need for Spencer to fuck me till I'm cum dumb :))
Thank you <33
oh
my god.
first off THANK YOU SWEETIE THATS TOO SWEET OF YOU!!
second off i’ve given the reader a thing I personally have where I kinda cum prematurely during sex 🫠 this means I get overstimulated really easily so I think it’ll pair with what you’re looking for :)
this is utter filth guys. also I KNOWWW some things are unrealistic but they’re hot so shove it.
so sorry this took so long and that the ending feels super rushed 😭
anyways enjoy!
you knew this was wrong.
hooking up with your coworker simply because this case was beating both your asses and sex wasn’t exactly presenting itself to you as a little pink box with a shiny ribbon on top.
the two of you had been going back and forth all day, snapping and jabbing at each other. theories were belittled and intellectuality degraded; everyone knew one of you was about to snap. they expected you to end up going through the dry wall or spencer out of the window.
they would never have expected to… explode in this way.
it was dirty. filthy. you both knew it.
and you both loved it.
he followed close behind you as you entered the hotel room and the door slammed behind him before his hands were all over you. he grabbed you by the upper arms, tugging you harshly into the wall. you hit it with a thud, your head bouncing off it.
you barely had time to get your surroundings before his hand was closing around your neck.
“do you get off on some sick power play to diminish me in front of everyone?” he hissed. “i’ve been doing this for years. you’ve been here for two seconds compared to my experience.”
“wow, prison sure did harden you up, huh. word from the team has it you were a little bitch before,” you could barely get your statement out before his hand was tightening, having you gasping for air as your airways closed up.
“shut the fuck up.” you would’ve snapped back, if you weren’t distracted by your buttons flying everywhere.
the two parts of the front of your now-ruined blouse were clutched in spencer’s hands. his face was the picture of rage, anger simmering in his gorgeous eyes and his lips pursed tightly.
“you asshole!”
“no. you need to be put in your place.”
you’d never been kissed with such ferocity. his lips smushed against yours, pressing them this way and that. it was messy, almost gross the way your tongues intertwined and saliva dripped. spencer pulled your hair from the crown of your head, harshly pulling your head back as his mouth immediately latched onto the column of your neck.
as he sucked and nipped, he pushed your blouse further off your shoulders the lower he went. your own fingers fumbled with his buttons, trying desperately to undo them. once your blouse was on the floor, he pulled away from you, throwing you onto the bed.
“dumb bitch can’t even undo some buttons?” he hissed, ripping your shoes off as you hastily unbuttoned your jeans.
“god, reid, shut up!” you wined as you squirmed your hips and pushed your jeans down.
“such a mouth on you.” he tutted patronisingly, rolling the sleeves of his half-buttoned-up shirt to his elbows and freeing his belt from his pant loops. “I ought to teach you a lesson.”
he chucked his belt onto the bed beside you before forcefully yanking your jeans off. he then grabbed your wrists in one hand, restraining you as he flipped you over. before you knew it, he was sat on the edge of the bed with you over his knee.
“reid!” you exclaimed as he folded his belt in half.
crack.
“ah!” your yelp sounded more like a moan, your ass stinging red.
the juxtaposition of spencer’s soothing hand and scrutinisingly-sweet voice overwhelmed your senses.
“aww, does the brat not know how to take her punishment with fucking dignity? this is what rude little girls get, you understand?” his tone boiled rage in you.
“fuck you.”
crack.
“ah!”
“count it.” he hissed.
“wha- what?”
crack.
“fucking count it!”
“one!”
“good girl.” his tone was condescending, as if he was talking to a misbehaving child trying to turn their behaviour around.
you counted every crack to your skin, your flesh burning as the belt came down on it. you eventually got to ten, your ass glowing red and cheeks tear-streaked. yet, by the time you got to ten, your pussy was soaked.
your hole oozed slick with every crack and caress that spencer administered to your cheeks. you whimpered in his lap, pressing your face into the comforter of the hotel bed.
“you dick.” you whimpered with a sniffle.
a smack to your hot rear had your back arching.
“i’ll show you dick.” spencer snarled.
he spread his legs, pushing you off of him and onto your knees between his. the stark contrast of your naked body and his fully clothed one was enough to have you grinding in your seat. spencer undid his flies and opened them, presenting his cock straining against his boxers to you.
he once again tangled his hand in your hair at the crown of your head before pulling you into his crotch. you let out a muffled whine, pushing on his thighs, but he held you still. you couldn’t move your face from his boxer shorts.
“lick.” he commanded, but you couldn’t hear him over your struggle. “I said, lick.”
it was degrading the way he had you lapping at his clothed cock like a damn dog. your tongue picked up bits of lint from the fabric of his boxers and the spot where his tip was leaking precum was damp and salty. it was disgusting. you couldn’t help but love it.
when your hands came up to the elastic of his boxers, he didn’t stop you from pulling them down. his cock stood up, taking your breath with it.
what he lacked slightly in girth, god damn did he make up for in length. he was huge, intimidating even.
“the fuck are you waiting for? what happened to the cock-hungry bitch licking my cock a second ago?” his words probed at something inside of you and you curled your hand around his cock, squeezing.
and god did you want to capture that breathy moan and head tilt that he released and keep it forever.
but his mood quickly shifted as his hands gripped your hair and shoved your face down onto his cock. gags, whimpers and tears left you as he hammered his cock into your throat, his pace relentless and bruising.
“god, this shut you up, huh? I should have you like this more often. bet you’d love it if I shut you up by shoving my cock into your mouth in the middle or the office, huh? show hotch and morgan what a slut you are for my cock. yeah? you want that attention?” he was mocking you! god knows what compelled you to hum and nod in agreement. “fucking whore. oh, look at you! fucking touching yourself?”
his cock was pulled out of your mouth, strings of saliva connecting you to it. ignoring your coughs and splutters, he manoeuvred his leg between yours, angling it so his shin rubbed deliciously against your core.
“wha- what are you doing?” you asked him, voice slightly hoarse.
“if you wanna get off so bad, you can hump my leg like the bitch you are!” he laughed.
anger flooded you, your nails biting into his calf and a frown coming over your face.
“no.”
“oh!”
his leg jolting up to meet your core had you moaning loudly. and you couldn’t help yourself. you started chasing that feeling, hips working overtime as you fully humped dr spencer reid’s leg. that was still covered by his stupid pants!
“aww, aren’t you just a needy bitch?” his tone was condescending, mocking as he lazily stroked his cock like you were simply porn material. you shook your head, prompting him to begin bouncing his leg up to meet your core. “come on, tell me what a needy bitch you are.”
“I’m a needy bitch,” you whispered out.
you found your arms wrapping around his leg as you pressed your whole body to him, still humping him.
“louder.” he ordered.
“I’m a needy bitch!” your voice is pitchy and whiny, almost screaming when he begins rocking his leg up to meet your sensitive clit.
you didn’t have to hump for long before you found your core tightening and your breathing becoming more laboured. you whimpered out how close you were, causing spencer to pull his leg from under you. the loss of balance had you falling into his knee, face smushing against the bony structure.
“wha…” you whimpered sadly as spencer pouted down at you with faux-sympathy.
“aww, is the little bitch all sad she can’t cum?” he asked condescendingly, making you sit straight again.
you sat in front of him on your knees, looking up at him with an angry pout. deciding to take matters into your own hands and stop waiting for his every order, you crawled to turn yourself around, revealing your back to him.
“what are you doing, huh?” he murmured.
you didn’t say anything, only lifting your ass up and down a few times as if you were shaking your ass on a dick. you felt it jiggle, looking back at him with a smirk. his pupils were blown and his hand loose around his cock.
“pet…” he warned and you took your chances.
still on the floor, you fell forward and pushed your ass into the air as you manoeuvred yourself into the deepest arch. you whined loudly as you did so, exposing your gooey, drooling hole to him. where you were sat, a wet patch glistened and the thin string connected to the carpet and your hole snapped. you heard spencer sigh shakily and squirmed on the bed. the sound of a zipper going back up sounded, the rustling of a button returning back to its hole.
only that’s where you’re wrong. he wasn’t squirming, he was standing.
three long fingers pushed easily into your hole, making you scream out. he kneeled over you, almost mounting you as he fingerfucked you. he was relentless, curling and uncurling his fingers at an ungodly speed. your slick dripped down his hand, sprayed over his forearm with the force of his movements and squelched loudly.
“trying to tease me?” he draped his body over yours as he hissed in your ear.
you whined pathetically, hips pushing back to meet his hand. he didn’t stop and you felt your orgasm drawing closer.
“oh god! oh god, oh god, oh god, I’m close!” you yelled out, only for his fingers to remove from your body. “wha- reid!”
“aww, I know. it’s hard being teased, isn’t it?” he asked, his tone as condescending as ever. you whimpered as you felt your orgasm dissolve.
and he plunged his fingers back in your pussy, grinning and laughing when you screamed out and your eyes rolled back. his fingers sped up and up and up until they stopped again.
each time you got close, he would stop touching you all together. he knelt over you and laughed as you begged and babbled pathetically. he was practically mounting you, you hadn’t even realise he’d pulled his cock out.
“you wanna cum, baby?” he asked, chuckling when you nodded and babbled pathetically. “of course you do.”
it was that night that you realised, you’d never experienced true pleasure until you had spencer reid fucking you like a madman.
his pace was relentless, bruising and wild. his hips slammed against your already sore ass and his tip bullied your cervix. tears rolled down your face, making him laugh.
“my little toy looks so pretty when she cries! aw, what’s the matter, princess?” he cooed mockingly in your ear.
“feels- feels so- so good…” you could hardly speak, hardly form a thought. it was too much.
you were cumming before you knew it, coating his cock in your cream. he laughed mockingly at you, hand coming down to draw little circles on your clit. you screamed and spasmed, knees giving up on you as you fell to the floor. he held you up by your hips, almost completely suspending your lower half.
“can’t even hold yourself up.” he grunted.
with one arm wrapped around your middle and the other hand at your clit, he chased his own orgasm in a haze of blinding hot pleasure. yet, you were cumming again before he was, your squirt splashing out onto his legs.
“oh, sweetheart! squirting all over me?” he laughed delightedly. “what a good girl. fuck, baby, I’m- hah- I’m close. gonna come inside. gonna- ha-ah- fill you up- fuck- yeah- claim you-”
his seed spilled into you in thick, copious amounts. you felt him fill you, your tummy swelling a little with the amount he was pumping into you.
“thank you, doctor,” you whimpered out, feeling all hazy and fuzzy.
he was panting above you, head thrown back in exhaustion.
“good girl. my good girl,” he murmured breathlessly. “let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?”
you’d never been pampered as nicely as you were that night.
*~*~*
“ah! spencer! ah!” derek moaned at you, high pitched and over dramatic, as you place his coffee down on his borrowed desk.
you frowned, trying to keep a straight face.
“I don’t know what you’re doing, but I’d rather you kept your sexual fantasies to yourself. I think that’s something you discuss with reid,” you sniped.
“I think you discusssd a lot with reid last night,” he smirked. “oh my god! just like that spencer!”
“someone clearly wasn’t paying attention. he likes it when I call him doctor.” you say, stalking away.
from his seat opposite derek, spencer grinned at him in a way that clearly said: “yeah. she’s mine.”
@wietske27
#x reader#smut#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds smut#post prison spencer reid#post prison spencer#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer smut#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid smut#spencer reid#post prison reid#post prison reid smut#post prison spencer smut#post prison spencer reid smut
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MDNI
"I want you to destroy me so I'll feel better"
Convincing Simon "Ghost" Riley to try something new. Well...not new for either of you, but a first for your relationship.
CW: name calling, degradation, violent choking (all consensual)
DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT
"You like what?"
Simon stands in front of you, hands in his hoodie pocket.
"I like being choked...until I pass out."
You repeat slowly. You know it was fucked up. You know it was bad. Everytime you did it you could feel your braincells dying. You sit on your hands at the edge of the bed. There's a moment of silence as he stares down at you.
"No."
He gives you that signature cold look of his: reserved for when you're in an argument you can't win. Or one he doesn't want you to win. 'You know this is useless. Give up. Quit while you're ahead.' It's like his voice was in your head.
"Are you afraid you're gonna hurt me?"
You always get your way at the end of the day. You knew it. He knew it.
"It's a stupid idea. Best to get that out of your head. Now."
He adjusts his mask before walking off.
"Please?"
You hug him from behind while he cooks eggs.
"No."
"Please?"
You wrap your arms his neck and lie on top of him while watching TV.
"No. Stop asking."
"Please?"
You're in bed when he goes to turn off the lights.
"..."
He resorts to ignoring you. You're getting closer to cracking him.
It goes on like this for two weeks. Usually he gives in by now, but you're making progress. Instead of engaging, he just leaves the room now.
"How did you even find out you liked that?"
He doesn't look at you while he spoons cereal into his mouth, mask rolled up just enough.
"I think it's something about an abusive ex choking me."
You take a bite of your cereal.
"Something about 'reclaiming your power after past traumas'. At least that's what my therapist said. Not sure if I believe that, but I can't think of any other reason I like it."
You shrug as you chew.
"Hm."
He keeps eating.
Breakfast is silent after that. You always get your way at the end of the day. You knew it. He knew it.
"Can't believe I'm doing this..."
He mumbles, kneeling over you while you lie on the floor.
"C'mon you've done this dozens of times."
You smile up at him.
"That's different and you know that."
He looks down at you, slightly disappointed.
"Sorry."
"It's fine..."
It's quiet. He shifts and the floorboards creak.
"So just until I pass out, then you can stop. I'll wake right up after."
You rub your hands on his knees.
"Mhm. Tap out whenever you want."
His gaze is intense, like he was fighting with himself. He places a hand on your neck gently.
"Can you be a little mean?"
Your heart races.
"Fucks sake, choking ain't enough for you?"
He wraps the other hand around your throat lightly.
"Would it be fucked up if I fought back?"
You flash a cheeky smirk.
"Don't do that."
He rubs his thumbs against your skin.
"Ok. Ready."
You take a deep breath and relax. He clears his throat and puts some pressure on your neck. You nod, looking up at him.
"Hm."
He applies more pressure until you can barely breathe. You take shallow breaths and close your eyes. His grip gets tighter. You can't inhale. You shift your hips under his.
"Don't. Move."
His words send a chill up your spine. He never used this tone with you before. It was terrifying. You try to swallow nervously. The last few exhales you have leave your lungs.
"Look at me."
You keep your eyes closed, a few rough taps to your face snap them open. His eyes are glossed over and dark, a frenzied shark. You find it in your chest to whimper.
"Shut the fuck up."
His hands wrap around you harder. It's starting to hurt. You lift your hands to grab his wrists. He gives a solid shake, banging your head on the floor and making you see stars. He leans down, pressing his masked mouth to your ear.
"Told you. Don't. Move."
Your lips opened and closed like a fish out of water. Swallowing became impossible. Your eyes watered, you could feel Simon's hands shaking. Then, darkness. It's quiet, peaceful, only lasts less than a second. And just like that, you're conscious. A delicious head rush and breath of fresh air leaves a goofy smile on your face.
"Unbelievable..."
Simon shakes his head, leans back on his knees, and huffs. You stare at the ceiling for a moment, catching your breath. Simon scoots back and you watch as he adjusts himself.
"Have fun?"
You tease. Before you can rag on him more, he yanks both your bottoms off and sits you right on his hard dick.
"Fuckin hell. You really do like that shit, huh?"
He grips your ass and glides you up and down as your dripping wetness clamps down on him. You're already drooling from the sensation of him parting you wide open so easily. You always get your way at the end of the day. You knew it. He knew it.
#simon ghost x reader#PLEASE BE CAREFUL WITH BREATH PLAY#simon riley x you#ghost x reader#cod x reader#short stuff#cod mw2#cod
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i've been dealing w/ a lot lately and wanted to write something nice so. enjoy.
SLASHERS w/ A GN! S/O WHO IS DEALING WITH DEPRESSION & ANXIETY
MICHAEL MYERS
"I just don't feel like doing anything..."
Michael gives you space if you ask for it but will still stand and watch you from the corner of the room
He's not the most outwardly affectionate person but you can tell he's worried when he comes over to squeeze your wrist once or twice
And you can tell he's worried sick when he points at the television as an invitation to watch a movie with him
He'll let you cuddle against him and he plays with your hands or hair and actually does hold you back
(It's not that he's NOT affectionate, just not usually like this)
The two of you can spend all day watching silly tv shows and movies to make you laugh
Every day may not be good, but there is something good in every day.
LESLIE VERNON
"Oh my god, Leslie, I think I'm having a panic attack."
Your hands are shaking so bad, you're sweating cold, and your vision is starting to get spotty as he hurries over to catch you
He rocks you through it, sits you down on the floor, and keeps you close to his chest while running his fingers down your arm or through you hair
Leslie's voice is soft and grounding as he tries to talk you back down
When you're finally able to breath again, you break down into such guttural sobs that he just holds you and rocks you gently
He lets you stay over at his house, you two get your favorite for dinner, and he reminds you that if you ever need to talk, he's there
After watching a movie, you talk to him about it. About how everything feels so overwhelming, how you feel helpless and out of control, and how you feel alone. He listens, really listens. And right now, that's all you really need: to just talk it out with someone
Even the darkest hour only has 60 minutes.
STU MACHER & BILLY LOOMIS
"I feel like everything is going wrong."
Stu happily listens to you vent about your problems and tries to drag you out on walks or to see movies or something
Definitely the type of guy to take you to amusement parks to give you constant dopamine hits
Billy, in contrast, will give you solutions to your problems and gives you space
He's not the most emotional guy so he tries to give you space to sort out your thoughts
So you've got a good balance!
Whenever they catch you starting to spiral again, Stu will go grab you a drink or a blanket while Billy tries to talk you down, reminding you that your problems are temporary and you will be okay
You've survived everything up till this point. You will continue to survive.
VINCENT SINCLAIR
"Do you hate me?"
Honestly, Vincent is surprised you could even think that!
But he understands how your mind works at this point so he takes you aside and opens the floor for you to talk
Everything just spills out. Small things he may have done on accident that just began to pile up, larger things that have just added to weighing you down, everything
Anyone else would think you were blaming him for your problems but he didn't see it that way. He saw you finally cracking and asking for his help to fix things
He can't magically solve everything for you but he supports you, showers you in hugs and kisses, and starts talking to Bo about maybe driving you out of Ambrose every so often to see someone about your mental health
You're grateful for his help. Everything feels so much less overwhelming when you have someone to hold hands with while you try to get help
Small, baby steps each day add up to huge, giant leaps over time. Don't give up.
LESTER SINCLAIR
"I think everyone hates me."
Lester's head snaps around and catches you staring down at your phone with wet, sorrowful eyes
You break down when he hugs you, spilling everything about a fight with your friends that left you scared. Not sad - scared
That's what sets off alarm bells in his head. He puts your phone aside and listens to you talk, vent, cry, anything you need
You're afraid. Afraid of what your friends said, worried about what they might tell others, and a petrifying anxiety that you'll end up alone
But Lester reminds you if they do that, then they were never really your friends to begin with
He peppers your face in kisses and reminds you that, no matter what, he will always love and care for you. Even if the whole world was against you, you'd always have him Jonesy comes and sits in your lap, licking your face and hands as she tries to smother you in her love as well!
Don’t dwell on those who hold you down. Instead, cherish those who helped you up.
#🔪 creeps writes#slasher x reader#slasher fanfiction#slasher x s/o#michael myers#michael myers x reader#halloween 1978#leslie vernon#leslie vernon x reader#behind the mask#billy loomis#stu macher#stu matcher x reader#billy loomis x reader#scream 1996#lester sinclair#lester sinclair x reader#vincent sinclair#vincent sinclair x reader#house of wax
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❝ 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓 ! ❞
⋆.˚ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. y.seongji x reader .
⋆.˚ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. he gets saved by strange photographer girl and gets persuaded to start his life all over, a new beginning he didn't deserve.
⋆.˚ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. ~1.2k .
⋆.˚ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. crack, a little. (kinda) plantonic. f!reader. self - made au ! [reader saves to the person who deserved it the most in lookism] . spoiler - warning . safe for minors! crappy writing. seongji may seem ooc .
SNAP !
The male figure, lost in thoughts, got pulled out of his trance, averting his gaze to a woman who held a camera in her hands. Not a moment passed as you lowered your camera to meet his eyes, now staring at him with a smile. "Sorry. I was passing by and then I saw you, going deeper into the water." you explained yourself before taking a good look into the gallery.
"You should stop here or you'll get lost in the ocean." she said while inspecting the shot she took, "it's actually pretty good."
Did she just take a picture without asking? But on other hand, it doesn't matter. He'll drown himself anyway.
"Wow, are you a model?" she asked, finally looking up again.
Just to see him walking away, deeper into the sea. "H-Hey!—" her eyes widened, immediately making her way to him, yet the water was slowing her down. "What are you doing?!" she questioned and took a hold around his wrist, "you could die but I won't let you! Hey, you stranger!—" the woman let out a huff, letting her camera hang around her neck before wrapping her arms around his torso.
"Let go!" those were the first words he let out of his mouth, gripping onto her arms that were hugging him tightly.
"No, are you stupid?! If you go further, you hace to drag me with you!" you cried out before realizing what you said, "or maybe I'm as stupid as you!"
Suddenly — he lost the balance because of your unexpected, added weight, stumbling a bit and then falling with you. The moment you two were in the air, he wrapped his arms around you as if it was to protect you. His back crashed down into the sea, the water cushioned the fall and let you sink into it. You opened your eyes again, pushing yourself up.
"Erm... Sorry! And thanks!" you puffed and looked down, only to see him passed out in the water. "Huh?! Sorry! The camera between us must've hurt!"
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─
The fresh smell of ramen woke him up. His eyes opened slowly. And the first thing he saw was the night sky. The moon that was, for once not covered by the clouds, shining calmly down on to the beach. "Finally awake, huh? You suicidal maniac." the voice of very someone familiar hit his ears as he eventually sat up, his hand was making contact with the sand underneath him.
"You." the person he meant didn't answer. "Why did you stop me?"
Well, yeah. You'd actually turn the question around. Who wouldn't stop someone from unaliving themself? But you didn't answer, staring at him as if he grew a second head. "Here. Probably didn't eat, right? Your stomach was growling all the time while you were sleeping. And then I got hungry too so I ate before you woke up." you handed him the ramen you bought.
"Answer already." he demanded, not moving to accept the free food.
"If you don't take it, I'll eat it." you huffed and waited again. This time, he actually grabbed the noodles without averting his gaze from you. Wow, you thought he would be more stubborn. "It's getting cold."
"It's already cold."
"Hey, eat it now before I take it back for real now."
Persuaded by your words, his finger twitched, finally opening the already opened cup noodles as he looked down at them. There was no soup visible, already soaked up by the noodles. "Youch. Why dish youh save meh?" he asked once again, this time his words sounded pretty much incoherent. But you still understood most of it.
"Don't talk while eating. It just shows that you have some bad manners." you sighed out before introducing yourself, "the name's [name] [lastname] by the way. If you're talking to me then use my name."
"[name]." he stopped eating the noodles for a moment just to hear your name out of his mouth.
"Yes?"
"...why did you save me?" he began to continue with the slurping.
"I mean, isn't it understandable? If someone tries to unalive themselves, you would stop them, wouldn't you?" you raised an eyebrow. "It's common sense."
"I'm a murderer."
Suddenly, the cold wind blew stronger this time, his hair flowed with the air, letting him still look beautiful. You wonder if he is a model. He could if he wanted. "Oh right. What did you say?" you asked him to repeat his words, not even listening. And when you processed what he said, you froze. "Ah, you're a murderer? Nice joke." his expression told you otherwise. "...well. A life is a life."
The guy infront of you frowned and you ask yourself why. What do you mean your answer didn't explain your actions? "I killed someone." the noodles are long forgotten, hiding behind all the thoughts he's having. Because of you. What kind of reaction was that? He just told you he killed someone. So why did you shrug your shoulders as if it didn't really matter. "I took someone's life."
"And your face says you regretted it. You also tried to take your own life? You think it makes it better if you just disappeared from the world? Isn't there someone who is worriesd about you?" you knitted your eyebrows in confusion, slight anger.
"It's better for them if I just disappeared. After all, I took the life of their friend. A sister." his eyes sank to the sand. "I'm an ugly monster."
"..." you couldn't help but chuckle at his last sentence. "Hey, if you're ugly what am I?"
"Stop laughing. I'm being serious."
"I am being serious. If you're ugly, I must be super duper ugly." you huffed, "what's your name?"
"...Seongji." he answered after a while of silence. "Seongji Yuk."
"Again, if you call yourself ugly, I must be a goblin."
"I never said that."
"Yeah sure, you're thinking that."
"I was not."
"But now you're imagining me as a goblin, right?"
"No."
"Eat your noodles or I will."
"Youch are sho wheird."
"Bad manners. Oh by the way you owe me ramen AND a new camera."
"..."
Seongji stared at you. You stared at Seongji. Until he break the eye contact because of the noodles, but you know it was an excuse to avoid your staring. What did you say? He owes you ramen and a new camera? Where should he get the money from? Are you being serious right now? The next time he met your gaze again, he noticed your blank expression plastered on your face.
"Let's make a deal..." you paused, "you'll be my muse and you don't need to pay me back."
"No."
"What?! You owe me a camera though? You know how expensive it was?" you pointed at the broken thing.
"It's not my fault. You latched yourself onto me. Besides ja, I have no money and no home."
"Because I was saving your life!" you balled your hands into fists, ready to punch his handsome face before calming yourself down. "How about I give you a shelter, food and some clothes then? You can have the guest bed room."
"Why are you doing this all for me?"
"Dude, you have no home, no money and you tried to unalive yourself. Now I'm giving you the best offer that will ever happen." you bit your inner cheek, "are we having a deal or not?"
"...fine." he placed the cup down.
"Good. You're having a new start. You sure about this?" you looked at him.
"...yes."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"By the way what's a muse?"
"Did you live in the mountains?"
"Yes. How did you know?"
© 2024 kumasakka — do not plagiarize , copy , modify , translate our work !
a/n's note — tempted to make more parts to be honest. SEONGJI MY LOVE, YOU DESERVED THE WORLD AND EVEN MORE.
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Bruce, high on painkillers, is being babysat by Jason. Jason has to do an emergency Red Hood thing, and lacking an alternative, slaps a stock domino on Bruce and drags him along.
Bruce proceeds to say/do the most unhinged shit. The goons are suddenly viscerally aware of where Hood got it from.
WOW okay you guys are unhinged, you know that?
(And I love it <3)
A/N: I fully intended to write a crack fic, but the feels crawled in through the plot holes I missed and made their homes in the heart of the story. Also I don't know what you mean by 'stock domino' so I'm assuming it's one of those dollar store ripoffs.
(TW: Accidental overdosing on painkillers, mentions of blood, Jason's usual level of swearing, some goons almost dying but like in a funny way.)
Word Count: 2328
Jason wants to scream.
Like, let it rip out on an abandoned cliff in the howling rain kinda scream.
But no, he's stuck babysitting Brucie Wayne who accidentally OD'd on fucking painkillers after trying to treat himself in Alfred's unfortunate absence (how does that even happen?!).
Dick and Damian are out doing some brotherly-bonding thing, Tim's with the Titans, Duke and Cass are at the movies, and Steph has declared herself "not one of Bruce's kids." Leaving Jason as the only one free to look after their "Dad".
Jason pushes Bruce down on the Batcave's gurney for the billionth time after he attempts (keyword: attempts) to walk again, scowling. None of them are getting any waffles from me again. Or pancakes. Or scones. Or anything I make for them out of my sweet, kind heart. Those little shits.
Jason puts two fingers on Bruce’s wrist, checking his pulse. His skin is cold and clammy, breathing slow, but at least he’s not vomiting anymore. He sighs, collapsing on a chair beside Bruce. He's tired. So fucking tired.
Just as Jason's eyes flutter shut for a moment, the Batcomputer's alarm suddenly blares.
Bruce shoots up, shouting, "ALARM!"
Grumbling, Jason drags himself to the computer, pushing Bruce down along the way. He opens the glaring red notification, brows creased.
Black Mask's goons have intercepted some military shipment...
"Ugh..." Jason groans, and moves to put on his helmet (he never changed out of his costume), checking his guns, when a sudden crash from behind him snaps his attention to the man-child he's supposed to be babysitting.
Bruce has stepped off the gurney and collapsed face-down on the med bay's floor.
He can't just leave him there, can he?
Jason considers his options: He could either strap Bruce to the gurney and leave (in which case Dick will have his head), or he could take Bruce out on the streets with him (in which case Dick will absolutely want to murder him.)
Jason smirks. It’s obvious which one’s the right choice.
Ten minutes later, Jason’s riding through the city at over a hundred miles per hour, with Bruce strapped to the backseat of his motorcycle. Bruce is wearing a dollar store ripoff of the Robin domino and a Robin-themed cape made of Tim’s bedsheets, looking absolutely ecstatic at the high speed.
They arrive at the warehouse where Black Mask’s goons have transported their stolen goods, parking in a shadowed spot a building away. Jason gets off, helping Bruce onto his feet, and says, “Now, I’m going to go shoot some people, you stay hidden and quiet, got that?”
“Guns are bad,” Bruce replies, holding a finger to Jason’s helmet. “Just like clowns. And ducks.”
Raising an eyebrow, Jason shakes his head. He doesn’t have time for this right now.
Jason quickly scales the nearest building, grappling to the roof of the warehouse. He peeks in through a hatch in the roof to survey the area. There are about a dozen armed goons, none of them looking very bright. There are 4 crates they’re guarding, likely filled with ammo.
Cocking his guns, Jason jumps down through the hatch, landing right in the middle of the warehouse with a ‘thud’ sound. “Surprise,” He grins, raising his guns.
“Aye, that’s Red Hood, ain’t it?” Comes a goon’s terrified voice. The others around him immediately aim their guns at Jason— they’re clearly untrained.
Suddenly there’s another thud behind him. “That’s a bucket, you morons!” Comes a too-familiar, slurred voice. Jason turns around to come face-to-face with Bruce, eyes wide.
In a fight with any real criminals, this distraction would have cost Jason his life. But luckily these adorably clueless goons are just as shocked as him.
Unfortunately the distraction only lasts for a few seconds. Jason immediately jumps into the fight, shooting three goons in the kneecaps and dodging a few bullets. From the corner of his eye, he sees two more goons running out the door, crying. He punches another guy in the face, instantly knocking him out, and is about to turn back to check on Bruce when suddenly something hard collides with his skull.
Jason staggers slightly, trying to regain his balance, when he sees a goon holding a giant stone, wearing a proud grin.
Fuck, his helmet’s probably busted…
Then suddenly Bruce is running towards the goon, hands fisted and veins popping, screaming, “NO ONE HURTS MY SON!”
Then Bruce’s fist collides with the goon’s with a sickening crunch, splattering blood across the floor as the man crumples to the ground. Bruce doesn’t stop there, and continues to beat him up, yelling profanities.
It warms Jason’s cold, (un)dead heart to watch that— to see his Dad fighting for him. It’s like they say, you’re most truthful when you’re drunk— or high. This is how much Bruce loves him.
Then another thought strikes him— Bruce is going to regret being this violent when he sobers up. It’s going to claw at him, tear him up, and he’s going to compartmentalize and end up punishing himself by overworking.
Jason rushes forward, pulling Bruce off of the man. “B— Robin, stop!” He shouted, looking into the man’s domino-covered eyes.
Bruce’s brows furrow. “Robin?”
Jason points to Bruce’s Robin-themed cape and stock domino.
“Ah.” Bruce nods, pulling away. “You okay? Did you see any duck?”
“Duck?” Jason pauses in confusion. But before he can question it farther, he spies the three remaining goons using a ladder to climb up through the roof of the warehouse, trying to escape.
“Stay here. And do not move.” Jason orders Bruce, and runs after them.
He makes his way up the ladder as fast as he can , exiting under the polluted night sky. The goons, the ridiculously stupid goons, are standing around the edge of the roof, trying to figure out how they’re going to get down.
He doesn’t get paid enough to deal with this ridiculous shit.
Actually, scratch that, he doesn’t get paid at all.
“Wow, you guys are pathetic,” Comes Red Hood’s robotic voice, startling the goons, and one of them accidentally topples over the edge, screaming. Jason ensures that the guy’s hanging on tight— he can wait.
He cocks his guns, aiming both at the two standing goons. Both men are trembling with fear, hands up in surrender. “Hood— Mr. Hood, please—” One of them squeaks, but one look from Jason shuts him up.
“Please. Mr. Hood was my father,” Jason quips, his robotic chuckle sounding sinister.
That’s when he hears another voice behind him (again)— “But I’m your father.”
Jason jumps, whipping around. “How did you— I didn’t even hear you come!”
Bruce just shrugs innocently, waving his bloodstained hands at the terrified goons.
Then Jason hears the distinct sound of a gun being cocked. From the corner of his eye he sees the bolder of the goons, the one that had spoken before, taking aim.
“DUCK!” He yells, falling out of the way.
Instead of dodging, Bruce falls into a defensive stance, looking around frantically. “Where?!”
The bullet barely misses Bruce’s ear as he turns his head.
Jason has had it with sky-high Bruce now. Annoyance rising, he quickly shoots the two goons in the kneecaps, forgetting about the one hanging off the edge, and stalks up to Bruce, glaring.
“What is up with you and ducks?!” He demands, his voice raised.
“Ducks are evil,” Bruce spits, nose wrinkled. “Just like clowns. And bats.”
Jason’s brows raise. “Bats are evil?”
“Yeah, duh, that’s why everyone’s scared of Batman.” Bruce rolls his eyes, his drawl sounding too much like Steph. “Bats are scary.”
“You really took ‘become what you fear’ too literally, huh?” Jason snorts, putting his guns back in their holsters. Then he takes off his helmet, checking the damage— just a slight crack at the back. Not too bad.
“You know, I fell into a hole and into a cave when I was a boy and a dozen bats attacked me. I nearly died.” Bruce continues, gesturing towards the air with his hands.
“Yeah, right.” Jason shakes his head, chuckling. “Now come on, we gotta get you back.”
That’s when another voice rings out, high-pitched and scared. “Um, Mr. Hood? Please HELP! Please, please, please—”
Jason’s attention snaps to the corner of the roof— ah, right, the goon’s still hanging off the edge, isn’t he?
He grumbles, making his way over, and squats above the man, shaking his head. The man below him looks like he’s pissed himself, face ashen, tears running down his cheeks, muttering, “I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die…” On repeat.
“I’ll pull you up on one condition,” Jason looks down at him, voice low. “Never become a gun for hire again. If I see you fighting on the streets…” He pulls out his gun.
“No, no, I won’t, I swear…” The man whimpers, eyes squeezed shut. Jason sighs, and grabs the man by the collar and hauls him up. He crumples onto the roof, curling into a ball.
“Take out your phone and dial 911, tell them you’ve been naughty,” Jason orders, his gun pointed at the man’s head. (What? A guy needs to have some fun.)
The man whines, and immediately obliges.
“Pathetic,” Jason ties the man up quickly, and makes his way over to Bruce, who was sitting on the floor of the roof, taking apart some random crushed handphone he’s found.
“Get up, old man. GCPD will be here soon. We’re going home.” He pulls Bruce up, ignoring how he longingly stares at the dismantled phone.
The two of them grapple down from the roof, landing safely on the pavement. As they walk towards his bike, Bruce says, “Did you know I ate a phone once?”
Jason stumbles slightly. “What?”
“Tasted nice. Like electricity. Crackle-y.” Bruce hummed, his face straight (as straight as someone dating Superman could be). He isn't kidding.
That, or he's delusional.
“Don't try it. You might turn into a computer or something.” Bruce nodded very seriously.
“Oh god,” Jason snorts. “I'm so glad my helmet’s recording all this. Perfect blackmail material.”
“Black's a very, very pretty color.”
Jason rolls his eyes, revving the motor, making sure Bruce is safely strapped onto the backseat behind him. “You're just emo.”
“What's emo?” Bruce raises an eyebrow, words slightly slurred.
“Y'know, when people wear all that black makeup, skinny jeans, with hair covering their eyes.” Jason explains, putting a spare helmet on Bruce's head. “And listen to, like, My Chemical Romance and Fall Out Boy and Panic! At The Disco. The Emo Trinity.”
“Oh, oh!” Bruce's eyes sparkle. “Dickie used to do that! He went to a My Chemmy concert once, but he didn't want me coming along.” He pouts.
Jason thinks of all the times Gerard Way has shoved a mic down his throat and grabbed his junk. “Yeah, I wonder why.”
Then he turns around to look Bruce in the eye. “But, Golden Boy was emo? Seriously?”
Bruce just smiles and nods, saying, “Now go.”
“Going,” Jason smirks and speeds down the streets of Gotham city, not slowing down until their surroundings change from shitty apartment buildings and broken street lights to the eerie quiet of Bristol. He can see the Manor in the distance when he takes a hidden turn, straight down the road that leads to the Batcave.
He pulls into the underground ‘garage’ section of the Cave, parking his bike before helping Bruce off. As he removes Bruce’s ripoff domino and “cape”, he says sternly, “Now, you tell no one of what we did today, got that? Not a soul.”
Bruce just flashes a thumbs-up and smiles in the most un-Bruce-like way possible. It’s a little creepy, honestly.
“And even if you remember this once you sober up you won’t talk, because you swore on your soul not to tell.”
“Mhm. Kay.”
“Good.” Jason smiles slightly, helping Bruce back to the gurney, making him lie down. He checks him over for any symptoms that the painkiller overdose is making his health worse. His skin’s still cold and clammy, but his breathing’s more steady. His pupils aren’t as small anymore, and he’s way more responsive than he was an hour ago.
Huh. Maybe all he really needed was some exercise.
Jason sits down beside his father, taking a deep breath. “Hey, uh… Did you really mean that, back there? That… That I’m your son?”
Bruce’s brows furrow. “Yes, who else’s son would you be? Superman’s?”
A short laugh escapes Jason. He moves closer to Bruce, lying down so his head is resting beside the older man’s. “I just…” He sighs, unable to form the right words. “I know it doesn’t always seem like it, but… I love you, Dad.”
“Aww, Jaybird…” Bruce’s hand moves sluggishly to cradle Jason. “I love you so much more than you could ever imagine.”
A small smile plays on Jason’s lips as he closes his eyes, leaning into his Dad’s touch. Maybe… maybe babysitting a high Bruce isn’t so bad.
[BONUS!!!]
Dick walks into the infirmary nearly an hour later with Damian trailing behind him, intending to check up on Bruce. He’s been ringing Jason’s phone for a while now, but he hasn’t been picking up. And… Honestly, Dick’s getting worried.
“Tt. I knew we shouldn’t have left Father’s safety in the hands of an incompetent fool such as Todd,” Damian frowns, scowling.
“No, no, it’s probably just a misunderstanding,” Dick tries to reassure his baby brother, but he picks up his pace. “I mean, we both know what Jason’s like. One moment he’s nice, one moment he’s—”
His voice trails off as he sees Jason sitting on a chair beside Bruce, who’s on the gurney— both asleep, with Jason’s head resting on Bruce’s shoulder, and Bruce cradling him.
“Aww, Little Wing…” Dick smiles, pausing. Even Damian freezes behind him. Dick steers him away, back into the main house, so as to not disturb the sleeping pair. “Yeah, they’re okay. Nothing bad happened.”
#Jason being a little shit who just wants to piss Dick off at first but really gets into the feels by the end#Also Jason didn't consider that to use the helmet's footage of tonight as blackmail he'll have to admit to the fam#that he bought a sky-high Bruce#(who he was supposed to be babysitting)#out into a gunfight#jason todd#bruce wayne#batman#batfamily#red hood#batfam#dick grayson#damian wayne
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