#and they don't even have a tag i can look through :(
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the dnf club (vol. 1)
carlos sainz jr.
tags: smut/pwp, brazil gp '24, praise kink, hair pulling/playing, cowgirl position, spanish speaking!reader, affection
a/n: five dnfs at the brazil gp! i feel honestly so bad for them! it's nothing a little smutty fan fic won't fix! so welcome readers to the dnf club <3
franco edition // alex edition // lance edition // nico edition
"carlos." you said as you took your lover's hand and leaned in to him. he got out of your hand and wrapped his strong arm around you. by instinct you placed your hand on his chest and looked at him, "i'm sorry."
victory last week turned into a dnf this week. and you knew that the odds of him taking home the wdc were next to none. he still wanted his last few races with ferrari to be special. so every mishap hit harder.
he held you by the small of your back and silently kissed your cheek. and you knew what you had to do when you got back to the hotel that night.
you got to the hotel before he did. he had to sit through press and try to keep a grasp on sanity before he could slink back to the hotel room. you had dinner ideas for him to help soften the blow of the results.
dressed in one of his t-shirts that hung a little loose around the shoulders, and wasn't long enough to obscure your bright blue panties. you had your hair pushed back with a fabric headband with cat ears on them. it wasn't the ideal sex goddess look, but it was comfortable enough while you started to pack up for the trip to las vegas.
the door to the hotel room opened and you greeted your lover. but you were soon met with his weight against you. his size pressed against you almost had you toppled over onto the bed. you managed to lie down on it gently instead of a full faceplant.
"how are you, honey?"
he mumbled something in spanish, he wrapped his strong arms around and kicked off his sneakers before he dragged you into bed. the words in his first language continued. you pouted at them, you spoke spanish quite well and were able to easily pick up on what he was saying.
"it should've been better." "i should've been better." "i'm sorry, my love." and the one that curled in your stomach was, "i need to be with you. need to feel you."
his large hands climbed up under your shirt and you did him the favor to take it off all together. his lips found your heated skin and his hands rested at your sides as you both were tumbled into bed together. the covers kicked to the bottom as his hands then got to the waist of your shorts and pulled them down. "i need you." he said.
you ran your fingers through his dark hair, you could tell the hungry expression that crossed his face. how he looked at you, the kind of gaze that made you take control. he'd be good for you as repayment for such a failure on the track.
repentance.
you got on top of him in just your bra and panties. your hands splayed across his chest as you looked down at him. heat heavy in your cheeks as you said, "let's get you out of all of this. you don't need to wear ferrari, not when it's just you and i." you leaned in as you pulled his t-shirt up, "you can wear my kisses instead." then got the shirt up over his head.
he chuckled lowly, "i'll wear your kisses forever."
you stripped him the covered his face in kisses. you felt your affection towards him grew. the thump in your chest and you admired his nude body. you looked at him with love and continued to move against him. you teased his cock a little. he shuddered with want and when you pulled his thick hair a little, he moaned.
"you're so good for me, carlos. always have and always will be. you'll get them next time." you said as you sank down on his cock.
he moaned and held onto your hips as you started to move up and down. you never took his cock out of your sweet pussy but your movements still made carlos feel the shudder of excitement run through him. he whined, "i want to make you proud."
you replied, "you always do, carlos. even when you dnf, i still feel so proud of you. you're the best man for the job and whatever team you're on, you'll race them to victory." you yanked his hair a little more as you rode him. you wanted him to feel better, more confident. you hated when he beat himself up and wanted to do everything in your power to make sure that he was okay.
and that meant riding him. taking his cock so well that that he forgot all about the race. you pulled on his hair a little more as you moved against his cock. you rode him and he held onto your sweet hips.
"please." he panted, "it feels so good. i love you."
you giggled in response, you kissed his jaw and replied, "i love you too. anything for you, my love. you do so well, might as well get some loving in there as well. make you feel good despite the loss." you captured his lips once more and the two of you moaned against one another.
the movements picked up pace and you held onto his dark hair a little tighter. you feel the throb in your chest as the pleasure curled in your gut. you could feel the tension in your thighs from your movements, but kept going.
carlos knew he was lucky to have you. beyond lucky, the type of luck that allowed him to get onto the ferrari team. whatever higher power was looking down on him. gave him his two wishes, to race in formula one and to find a woman who he could love forever. and would love him too.
you pulled away from the kiss and looked down at him. you cupped his face for a moment, you spoke to him in spanish, "you did so good today. i know you think it was a failure. but." you kissed him on the face, "you raced beautifully. you always race beautifully." then quickened your kisses across his face.
he blushed a little bit and replied, "i always race for you. you fuel my soul." carlos loved you, obsessed with you in certain ways. but not in a way that cruel or hurtful. if he got to be by your side at any occasion, he would take it.
that was why he wanted to make you proud.
the kisses continued, they grew heavier with the more you moved. carlos' hands explored your sides, it made you shudder with want. it was incredibly hot between you two. the air of the hotel bedroom grew and you felt sweat down your back.
even with the kiss broke, you gazed into his dark eyes and your pace onto quickened. you laid chest to chest with him and moved his head by his hair to kiss him deeply on the lips. he moaned into it. you couldn't get enough of him. it was a deep need you had in your soul for him.
and he carried the same feeling for you. he groaned, "i love you. so much." he groaned through a tense jaw as you went as fast as you could go.
you could feel the strain on your back from the position and simply over doing it. but you didn't care. not at that moment. you only wanted to feel good. and the promise of immense pleasure for the both of you kept your hips moving in a way that made the both of you only get louder.
you were thankful that the headboard was sturdy enough to not slam against the wall, you didn't want that noise complaint come morning. carlos took you by the back of the head and kissed you deeply on the lips as he felt the course of pleasure through him.
it was undeniable, the heat between you two. it always had been and as the kisses got heavier, your pace got messier. and soon the feeling became overwhelming. and you tensed up around your lover, hands in his hair as you gave it on last tug before you came around his cock.
he groaned and held onto your hips once more, he moved you up and down his cock. your praise was loose on your lips as you told him how amazing he was, and how much you loved him. that your heart raced for him and you yearned for him. his pleasure with yours. he couldn't hold out much longer and with a few more strokes of his cock he pushed all the way inside of you and finished.
both exhausted, you laid on top of him. your hands on him as you tried to compose yourself. and instead of your hands in his hair. his hand was in your hair. he wasn't rough with his touches however, instead lightly stroking your strands as you laid curled up in one another.
you looked up at him and said softly, "next week will be your week."
and carlos smiled as he leaned down to kiss on the forehead, "it'll be our week."
come the next week in las vegas. carlos had a renewed sense of confidence. this would be his race to win, he'd make you proud and end the season on a high note. when the lights went down, it was show time. and carlos knew that he could get another victory. <3
#bunny writes#reader insert#formula 1#formula one imagine#formula one smut#f1 smut#formula one fanfiction#f1 x reader#the dnf club#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz jr x reader#carlos sainz 55#carlos sainz jr smut#carlos sainz smut#carlos sainz#cs55 x you#cs55 x reader#cs55 fic#cs55 imagine#cs55 smut#brazil gp 2024
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=͟͟͞♡ Healing Hearts =͟͟͞♡
=͟͟͞♡ Pairings:-Doctor Gojo x Intern F!Reader
=͟͟͞♡ Contents/warnings- Medical procedures, surgery descriptions, crazy sexual tension, eventually explicit sex etc. ER setting. Reader 26, Dr. Gojo 34, small age gap, work sex, complications, lots of humor, eventual drama and angst
=͟͟͞♡ Summary- You are the top Surgical Doctor intern, along with Maki, Yuta and Toge. You all are exhausted from passing the first month, sixteen plus hour days, days you don't even go home, all to get a top spot with the star Surgeon, Dr. Gojo, your resident doctor and boss. Or as you call him, Dr. Hojo. He's takes nothing serious but his surgeries it seems, and has a reputation for being a player, but he has that top spot, so you want to prove your worth! You just have to ignore those stupid butterflies he gives you, and those pretty blue eyes, along with his interest in you, and focus!
Toying with the idea of making this a full story soon! Comment to get added to the tag list when I do :) A rough draft of the beginning. Enjoy!
Part One
Fuck, you’re exhausted, the first month of your internship as a surgeon was brutal, you haven’t had but a couple hours of sleep here and there, mostly on some of the hospital beds. Your bones ache, your skincare routine is barely hanging by a thread, and your hair is a wreck in a messy bun today. You thought med school was difficult, but it was nothing like this.
“Hey, you okay babe?” Your best friend Maki Zenin asks softly, you look at her and smile, nodding, she purses her lips, tilting her glasses. “No you’re not.”
“I’m wiped, Maki. This patient injected cocaine up his ass.” She bursts out laughing right in the middle of the hospital floor, you cover her mouth quickly, looking around. “Shh!”
“Shit, forreal? I thought my case was bad, he’s been here eight times for hits of pain meds since I have been here, he keeps bashing his hand on shit.” She sighs, handing her files to the desk then picking up several more.
You’re both in your pale blue scrubs, Maki’s pretty green hair is high up in a ponytail, now your other two best friends from your internship come up, Inumaki Toge and Yuta Okkotsu, both looking exhausted along with you. Yuta’s eye bags rival yours by far, he slicks back his dark hair as you all check the time on your watches.
“Another sixteen hours almost down.” He says through a yawn.
“Tired.” Inumaki says, and you sigh, nodding in agreement.
“Fuck that, we need to throw a party.” Maki says, somehow still so energetic, and you’re so confused how it’s possible.
“Party?” Inumaki asks, he’s certainly a man of few words, but his violet eyes explain whatever anyone needs to know.
“No way, Maki. Fuck that.” Yuta says, earning Maki sticking her tongue out at him.
“Buzz kill, ugh. Listen, this weekend, we’ll invite some of the people from our class, we can invite some of the other interns too. Ooh, maybe even those sexy resident doctors.” She wiggles her brows with a mischievous little grin.
“Maki, we're too old for that shit now.” You grumble.
“Bitch we’re twenty six? How are we old.”
“I feel ancient.” Yuta agrees. “Coffee everyone?”
“I have to stop by Doctor Gojo’s real quick, meet you all there?” You say, and they nod, waving you off as you head to your Resident doctor’s office. Dr. Gojo was the boss of you four, one of the residents along with Dr. Nanami and Dr. Geto. All three were fawned over by all the interns, except you.
Yes they were gorgeous, and yes Dr. Gojo was positively beautiful, with his snowy white hair, his glittery blue eyes, his big grin. But you were just too exhausted and too beat to really fawn over someone, especially someone you really could not be with, seeing as he is your resident, you’re just a little intern. Satoru also happens to be the top surgeon in the hospital.
You go to knock but see his door is cracked open, you carefully take the knob in your hand, twisting it and peeking your head in, seeing Satoru Gojo’s head fall back, as he’s gasping. You look curiously, but his hands are up on the desk, as he’s biting his lower lip, his brows together, eyes shut. You clear your throat and he jerks then, clearing his throat.
“Um… hey intern.” He says, his voice clipped. You shut the door behind you, tilting your head curiously at him, his face reddening slightly.
“Dr. Gojo, I have a question about this patient, is everything okay? It won’t take very long.” You say, and his eyes flicker over your face, an expression you can’t explain, as he sucks in a breath.
“I um… can listen… in… fuck, fuck!” He moans then, he clearly moans, and you hear a bump on his desk now. “Oh, oh that’s so much better.”
“I… what the fuck!?” He flushes then, sliding back, and one of the nurses jumps up, giggling now and wiping her mouth, she has pretty blue hair.
“Thank you Miwa, you’re a gem.” He stands, patting her head with a smile, and she giggles again, as you watch in confusion, your brows together, mouth open. “I need to talk to her about cool doctor things, I’ll see you around later?”
Cool Doctor things.
Blow jobs on the clock?
How is this your boss?
“Yes, Dr. Gojo. Hi there!” She waves at you, as if nothing has happened, as if she wasn’t just sucking Dr. Gojo off, and he’s looking bashful!?
“What the hell is this shit? Lock a door?” He comes to you, locking the big door with a click behind you. “Not now!”
“I forgot it was open, shit. I’m sorry. Stress relief, you know.” He smiles down at you, a stupid smirk you’d like to smack off his pretty face, hands in the pockets of his long white doctor jacket. “Don’t you ever need any?”
You heat up at his husky tone, as you realize just what you’d walked into. It had been a long time since you’d even thought that way, not just with Med school but now being an intern, especially since you broke up with your ex months back. “What? Yuck don’t come near me.”
“Why, ya jealous.” He brushes your hair back, earning your glare. “You’re awfully cute when you are.”
“Jealous of you? No thanks, I'm good. I sure am not part of your fan club.”
Satoru pouts. “Yeah, and you’re the only one.”
“Yep. Anyway, I’m now disturbed.” You shiver with feigned disgust, making him snort a bit in laughter. “But I only came in here to go over Mr. Lewis.” Sighing, you hand him the file with a gentle brush of your fingers against his palm. “He's been a difficult case.”
“Fuck, the cocaine dude? Ah shit, it’s that bad?”
“We have him stable, but something about it threw me off, how could it be that severe of an effect? Colitis has lasted days now and no improvement.”
“Mmm, true. But it makes sense, you can’t just inject cocaine into the anus and… have a party.” A hint of laughter escapes from his lips before he can control it, earning a stern look from you, making him study the file more carefully.
“Be serious.”
“I’m your boss, you know!”
“Yeah, somehow. Anyway, I feel there is something underlying. Perhaps exasperated by the cocaine.”
“Up the ass! Hah!” He’s smacking his long leg now, chuckling, earning your glare. “Oof you’re so serious, sorry, carry on.” He gives you a mock salute, and your eyes are so far back in your head they might stay that way.
“So I’m wondering if he has something else, untreated, the man has no history of any doctor visits since he was living with his parents.”
He taps his chin then. “Hmm, good point. It’s possible. Have we checked him for Chron’s?”
“Shit, maybe, that would make so much sense too, his white blood cell count is through the roof. I’ll leave a note to run some tests before I go.” You take the folder back then, your fingers brushing, and it brings a blush to your cheeks.
“What’s wrong, intern?”
“Just weirded out by you, Dr. Hojo.” He snorts then.
“Dr. Hojo!?”
“It’s what they call you, I guess it’s true.” You say, raising a brow, and he is leaning close, too close. You can smell that stupidly expensive cologne he wears every day, filling your senses far too much. You try to avoid those eyes, even though you look at them all the time, they still are…
Too much.
“And you don’t ever wanna just get eaten out?” You blush more now, looking down as he stands up tall, so fucking tall over you. “Don’t be shy now, we spend more time together than alone.”
“I don’t do that when not in relationships.” He pauses, and you expect some joke, since he takes nothing serious but surgery it seems. But he tilts your chin up, and studies you with those eyes, lids lowering ever so slightly.
“Aw, so you’re a good girl.” He says teasingly, causing a warm sensation to spread through your stomach at his words. You shake your head and try to ignore the fluttering feeling within you.
“Don’t say that!”
“Turn you on?”
“No! Jesus. I don’t care what people do with their bodies, I don’t care if you’re a whole manwhore-”
“Excuse me!”
“But I just need a relationship, I’m not attracted to just looks, there has to be a deeper connection.” He studies you carefully now, so serious unlike his usual goofy demeanor.
“Hmm, a challenge.”
“What now?” You glare up at him, clutching the folders to your chest tightly. “Not a challenge, you psycho. Go get all the blowjobs you want, like Thanos collecting all those infinity stones.”
He grins, sharp little fangs glinting, and you don’t like the effects it’s having on your body, or your mind. You can barely take a breath. “You’re actually so funny, holy shit.”
“You don’t really know me. Aside from work.”
“You never take me up on any of those offers of coffee, or grabbing a bite, all you do is work Missy. All work, no play, makes a sad girl.” He taps your nose, and it scrunches up, making him smile a bit. “Cute.”
“Whatever, I have to work my ass off, it’s important, I have to make sure I get to scrub in with you. That chance comes at the end of this month.”
“Well you’re the top intern I have, so don’t worry so much.” He pats your shoulder, and you blink a bit. “Surprised? How. You graduated top of the school, you bust your cute little butt, and you’re intelligent, caring for your patients. Of course I was picking you first.”
“Oh my god…”
“You’ve ruined your own surprise. Act surprised when you find out, mmkay?” You hug him then, heart racing as you think of it. “Oh so now you like me.”
“I can really scrub in to a surgery with you!?” You couldn't contain your excitement as you leaned back and looked up at Satoru Gojo. He nodded, his hands taking hold of your waist through your scrubs, and that touch?
Does things, fuck.
“I’m so sorry-”
“You’re fine, intern. Stay a little longer.” You nervously step back, his hands are still on your waist, making you tremble, as your eyes both lock.
“I can never fuck such an opportunity up. Um… thank you though, that gives me so much hope, maybe I can actually relax for two minutes!” He smiles softly, nodding, his hands falling to his sides. “I’m sorry I…”
“Interrupted? Nah. Think you made me cum quick.”
“What!?” You glare again, and his smirk makes you itch to smack him all over again. “Dr. Gojo!”
“You’re so pretty though, I think it made her job quicker. Win win.”
“I’m out of here. Ugh.” You turn away, hand on the knob, and then his comes on top of it and gently unlocks it with a twist, you feel his hard body against your back, and you get overwhelmed in his office, damn near unable to breathe, as he’s clearly…
Is Dr. Gojo inhaling your hair!?
“New shampoo?” He asks, you turn to glare up at him, putting your faces far, far too close.
“How would you know my…”
“You always wear that one that smells like strawberries, this one is more floral. Hmm I don’t know if I like it as much, but it’s still yummy.”
“I… you…”
“See you later, intern.” He says softly, then finally steps away, leaving you reeling as you hastily step out without a word, leaning your back against his door, shutting your eyes for a moment in the quiet hall his office is in. You shake yourself out of it quickly, he’s just being…
Dr. Hojo.
Notorious womanizer, but the best damn surgeon there was, a whole idiot and yet an entire genius. And not your type, not at all, even if he’s gorgeous, you did not like man whores, or men that aren’t serious, especially not your boss, anyway. Fucking your boss in this industry would essentially make everyone question every accomplishment as favoriteism.
You sure weren’t going to sacrifice all your hard work for some dick.
You bounce away, heading to the little cafe where your friends are waiting, sitting next to Yuta who hands you a coffee with a little smile. “Thank you, ugh.”
“You’re welcome, girlie.”
“So, party?”
“Maki!” You three say, and she sighs, shooting her espresso down.
“Next weekend! Come on you guys, what do you say?”
“Oh fine.” You concede. Maki, Yuta and Toge all live with you, in your town home, since you could absolutely not afford it yourself, with the shitty pay of your internship and the college bills. It was left to you, but you still had property taxes and other bills, so they helped a ton. “No one better fuck my house up, I swear.”
“Hell yeah, here’s to a party bitches.” She holds up her little styrofoam cup, and you all cheers each other then, laughing.
“Party, hmm?” Comes Dr. Gojo’s voice, he’s standing there with Dr. Geto and Dr. Nanami. You all get nervous then, but he grins. “I’m coming. What about you guys?”
“No way.” Nanami grumbles, he’s very serious, his glasses slung over his sandy blond hair, his face exhausted.
“I’ll come.” Dr. Geto chimes in, chuckling and sipping his coffee, he’s as tall as Dr. Gojo and well swoon worthy. He would be more your type you think, with that serious yet fun nature, whereas Dr. Gojo…
“C’mon Nanami. You gotta, you gotta, you-”
“Jesus you’re a child.” You say, and Gojo gasps at you, Geto and even Nanami laugh, only earning Gojo’s scowl.
“You brat, I’m a good eight years older than you!”
“You look like a twenty year old frat boy.”
"And you look like an angry little brat!” He shot back, only causing more laughter to erupt from the group.
“Okay, okay.” Dr. Geto holds up his hands now. “Let’s be nice, kids.”
“Kids! Suguru I’m older than you.” Gojo says with a glare.
“Like six months. Anyway, we’ll be there at this party, text us the details? We’d love to unwind.” Dr. Geto says, and Maki jumps up now, as you and Gojo are glaring at each other across your table. “Got it, thank you Maki.”
“Of course, we’ll invite both of your interns too. It’ll be much needed after hell month.” You just sit there, as they all talk, and Gojo is all pouty, like a baby. You peek at your phone now, seeing a text from your shitty ex, your face falls.
“Everything okay?” Maki asks softly, and you sigh, nodding.
“Just the ex.” You whisper back.
“Ex huh?” Satoru has somehow gotten behind you, leaning over, you smack at his hand then, glaring. “What, I wanna know!”
“You’re too fucking much sometimes. Ugh.” You stand up then, slinking past him. “I’m headed to get changed and then I’m leaving. See you all at home?” They all nod, eyeing you and Satoru curiously, you wave at the Doctors then head out.
Ugh, along with Satoru just being… weird and annoying, and your ex? He was a toxic, needy mess. He’d left you because you didn’t have enough time for him, and maybe you really didn’t, how could you have a relationship until your internship was finished? The first week none of you even left the hospital, sleeping in bunk beds and showering there.
But he constantly needed you, made you feel guilty, would fuck with your alarms and everything. Thank God he was long gone, even if he was annoying you currently, you delete his messages, heading to the locker room and hearing steps. You look back curiously to see Satoru holding the door open for you.
“What are you doing?”
“I am sorry, that was rude of me.”
“Yeah, well, what’s new.” You both walk into the locker room now, Satoru’s shrugging off his white lab coat, your cheeks heat up while you slip off your scrub top, it was normal to change in front of everyone, you all had co op locker rooms and showers even, all of you took years of anatomy, the human body was nothing really but parts.
But as you feel his eyes on you, when you’re down to just a black lace bra and a pair of boy shorts, you tense a bit, looking at him, shirtless, his lips parted as he looks at you. “I am sorry I know I annoy you, Miss perfect.”
“I’m no Miss perfect. I guess I have a lot to prove.” You say softly, trying not to drink in his rippling muscles, perfect well defined torso, cuts low where he’s now sliding up a pair of dark blue jeans.
His blue eyes fixate on you as he does, as you’re sliding on a pair of jeans yourself, buttoning them with trembling hands. “I had a lot to prove once too. I do understand.”
“You’re being serious?” You tease, earning a little smile, as he slides a black long sleeve shirt over his head. You get flustered as you realize your nipples are pressed against the cups of your bra, sliding your shirt and then a jacket on yourself, sitting at the bench to slide on your black boots.
“I can be serious sometimes, I just think there’s enough death, sadness, and depression in this career. Why not just try to have some fun? Otherwise, it’ll just consume you.” He says softly, in that husky voice of his, so sexy it alone could wreck someone. But his words…
“That makes sense.” You say softly now, standing as he does, grabbing your purse and locking up your locker, spinning the combination, at the same time he grabs his keys and wallet. “So you try to… brighten up things.”
“Yeah, someone has to.” He walks to you then, tapping your nose once more. “You’re too serious, you’ll have to lighten up, or this career will wreck you.”
You nod then, carefully, realizing perhaps this slutty, silly doctor had a lot more to him, than just being the perfect surgeon. “I’ll take that advice. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, also…” He leans forward as you all are stepping out of the locker room, headed toward the automatic glass doors, and you look at him curiously. “Nice panties.”
“Oh fuck you, Dr. Hojo!” You glare now, shoving at him, as he heads to his mercedes benz, and you’re in your ancient SUV that sounds like a beast.
“Night-night, intern.” He shoots you two fingers, sliding into his fancy car with blacked out windows. You roll your eyes, putting your car in gear.
What a day.
This is just a little bit of what I'm thinking of doing when I finish up my Lawyer Gojo story, thought I'd see who wants to be tagged and is interested in this :) Look forward to your thoughts on Dr. Hojo lol!
#doctor gojo#doctor satoru#doctor au#gojo x reader#satoru x reader#jjk smut#gojo smut#jjk x reader#jujustu kaisen#jjk gojo#gojou satoru x reader#satoru smut#satoru gojo#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x y/n#current wip#work in progress#story preview#jjk fic#gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen
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𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍'𝐒 𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎
— sanzu haruchiyo x fem!reader
PART TWO 10.1k words
short summary. in which your heartbreak over Mikey pulls you into the dangerous and irresistible orbit of Bonten's Number Two, Haruchiyo Sanzu. warnings. sanzu haruchiyo is his own warning, graphic violence, substance abuse, toxic/manipulative relationships, explicit sexual content, depression & self-destructive behaviour, strong language. tags. female reader insert, bonten au, tsundere!sanzu, ex-boyfriend!mikey, angst with a happy ending, slow burn, heavy pining/yearning.
masterlist
Manjiro Sano never hurts you—not physically, at least—though the emotional havoc he's wreaked has left you unraveling. But what you face now is something entirely different.
Haruchiyo Sanzu's grip is iron-clad, dragging you away from Mikey's door with no regard for your protests. His fingers dig into your wrist like vices, the pressure biting deep into your skin until the pain is sharp and throbbing. It radiates up your arm, but even that ache is dull compared to the hollow devastation gnawing at your chest. The image of Mikey with her—so close, so intimate—burns behind your eyelids every time you blink.
It's as though the world around you has ceased to exist. You can't even register the hallways passing by as Sanzu hauls you through them, his erratic pace nearly causing you to stumble. You feel like a ragdoll in his grasp, powerless, your heart beating out of sync with reality.
Kakucho's voice filters through the numbness. "Sanzu... what are you doing?"
There's concern in his tone, but he stays planted where he is, as if crossing that line would be dangerous.
Sanzu doesn't slow, doesn't even glance at him. His lips curl into a sneer as cold as the concrete walls.
"Taking care of a stray," he bites, yanking you closer as though you might slip from his grip.
The words sting, but not as much as what follows.
Kakucho's frown deepens, but he's hesitant. "You sure you wanna do that? She's—"
Sanzu cuts him off, sharp and merciless. "She's nothing. A nobody. Mikey made that pretty fucking clear, didn't he?"
Nothing. A nobody.
Each word hits you with the force of a physical blow. Whatever you were to Mikey, whatever you thought you had—it's been ripped away, stripped down to these ugly truths.
You're nothing now.
Kakucho's gaze flickers to you, sympathy and uncertainty mingling in his dark eyes. But you can't meet them. You drop your head, staring at the floor as though it holds all the answers you need. Maybe if you don't look, you won't have to acknowledge what Sanzu just said. Maybe you can pretend you didn't hear it.
Mikey doesn't want you anymore.
"Stop this," Kakucho urges, stepping forward now, his movements careful, deliberate. "You're high. This isn't going to end well, you know that."
Sanzu's eyes snap up, wild and feral, like a predator guarding its kill. "Exactly." His voice drops to a venomous whisper. "So back the fuck off before I kill you too."
The tension between them is palpable, but Kakucho eventually steps back, his jaw tight with barely suppressed anger. He's seen what Sanzu is capable of when he's in this state. They all have.
"Just don't go too far," Kakucho mutters, his voice tight, his eyes flicking to you one last time before he steps aside. His reluctance lingers, but in the end, he's still letting you be dragged away.
Ran, sprawled lazily on the couch, barely lifts his head as he calls after Sanzu. "Mission's at nine. Try not to be dead before then."
Sanzu pays no mind to either of them. His grip tightens, and you're dragged deeper into Bonten's labyrinthine corridors, every step taking you further from any hope of intervention.
He pulls you into a small room, slamming the door behind him with enough force to rattle your bones. A click follows—the lock sliding into place—and you're alone. Alone with him.
The room is stark, clinical, a conference table dominating the space with its polished wood surface and neatly lined chairs. But there's nothing neat about what's happening now. The moment Sanzu shoves you against the table, hard enough that the edge bites into your lower back, the sterile, formal atmosphere of the room is obliterated.
His hand shoots up, fingers wrapping around your throat. The pressure is immediate, your breath catching in your throat as your vision blurs at the edges. You gasp instinctively, hands flying to his wrist, nails scraping against his skin, but he's too strong. His hold tightens further, cutting off more of your air, and panic grips you.
He leans in, his breath hot against your face, laced with the stench of drugs. His expression is wild, unhinged, pupils dilated and blown wide with intoxication. But beneath the drugs, there's something else—an anger, a bitterness that has nothing to do with you, but is aimed at you all the same.
"Now..." His voice is low, almost a growl. "What the fuck do I have to do to make you understand that you don't belong here?"
Your lungs burn, your head spinning as your fingers claw at his hand. I don't belong here? The thought pierces through your fog of fear. Maybe he's right. You're not sure of anything anymore—not after Mikey, not after what you saw.
You can't breathe, and everything is turning dark. Sanzu's face, his mocking grin, is the only thing in focus.
Tears well up, spilling over your lashes. But you're not crying because of the physical pain. It's the emotional torment that's killing you. The crushing realization that you are utterly, completely alone. No one's coming to save you.
Sanzu watches as you choke on your own sobs, and he laughs, low and cold. "Already crying?" he mocks. "I haven't even started yet."
But the tears won't stop. The dam inside you breaks, and you're gasping, sobbing uncontrollably in front of him. You can't take it anymore. Not this. Not after what Mikey's done to you.
"Just..." You choke on the words, your voice broken and hoarse. "Just fucking kill me already."
For a moment, there's silence. Then, his grip on your neck loosens just enough to let you breathe. You gasp, sucking in precious air, coughing as your lungs fight for life. But the relief is short-lived.
Sanzu's face hovers inches from yours, his smirk growing, eyes gleaming with dangerous amusement. "Kill you?" His tone is soft now, condescending. "Nah. That's too easy."
His fingers trace the curve of your jaw, rough, possessive. "I think I'd rather play with you a little longer."
You squeeze your eyes shut, hands pressing against your face as tears continue to spill down your cheeks. This feels so stupid. So, so stupid. Mikey's across the hall with his wife, living his perfect life, while you're stuck here with Sanzu—his insane, drugged-up number two.
What a fucking downgrade.
Suddenly, without warning, Sanzu grabs your face roughly, forcing you to look up at him through your tear-filled eyes.
"You're pathetic," he sneers before crushing his lips against yours.
The kiss is brutal, possessive, and filled with an overwhelming heat that makes your skin crawl. You try to push him away, but his weight presses you into the table, your wrists pinned beneath his hands. It's suffocating, just like his grip on your throat.
And then you taste it. Something bitter and foreign sliding past your lips. Your eyes widen in horror as you realize what he's doing.
He pulls back, his lips brushing yours as he whispers, "Swallow."
You shake your head, panic rising in your chest. No way. You're not going to swallow that. You try to spit it out, but his hand clamps down over your mouth, smothering any attempt to resist.
"Don't make this harder than it has to be," he murmurs, his tone soft but filled with menace. "Be a good girl... and swallow."
His words slither into your ears, so sweet and venomous all at once, poisoning what little willpower you have left. You want to fight him. You want to scream and tear away from him, but you can't. Your body is too sluggish, too weak to resist, and part of you doesn't want to.
It wants him to be right.
It's easier, isn't it? To let him take control. To stop resisting and just give in, let the numbness wash over you. Maybe then the pain of everything—of Mikey, of the betrayal, of this twisted mess—will fade, even just for a moment.
"I said swallow," Sanzu hisses, his patience thinning. "That. Shit."
You finally swallow the pill, the bitterness lingering on your tongue like a promise you'll regret. The drug settles deep inside you, blooming warmth spreading through your chest like wildfire, but there's no comfort in it. It only intensifies the chaos swirling in your mind—the betrayal, the loss, the desire to escape. It all collides in a sickening wave, leaving you gasping, clinging to the edge of the table as your body betrays you.
Sanzu watches you with an intensity that makes your skin crawl, his eyes dark, wide, and hungry. He's waiting. Waiting for the drug to take hold, waiting for you to crumble.
"Good girl," he breathes, and the words slide over your skin, soft and menacing. His gaze lingers, tracing every tremor in your body, every stifled breath.
The drug spreads quickly—too quickly. The next thing you know the room is spinning violently, the floor tipping beneath your feet, and you're stumbling as warmth floods your limbs. You try to steady yourself, but your body feels too light, too hot, like you're floating, disconnected from reality. Your breath quickens, panic swelling in your chest as your senses sharpen, every touch, every sound amplified to unbearable levels.
Sanzu's hands are still on you, his touch electric, sending jolts through your skin. You gasp, your heart racing as the euphoria spreads, tangling with the devastation inside you, turning everything into a dizzying blur of sensation. You can barely breathe, and yet, in the haze of it all, a part of you is aware of his gaze, watching you intently, reveling in your reaction.
"How does it feel? Hmm?" His voice is low, almost a purr, and you can feel his breath against your ear as he leans in closer.
"First time's always the best." He laughs, a quiet, sinister sound that rattles through your bones. "You'll feel good soon... or maybe you'll just cry harder. Who knows?"
You choke on a sob, the tears spilling over as the drug overtakes you, drowning you in heat and haze. Your body feels foreign, your mind too foggy to comprehend anything other than the intensity of it all. You want to fight it, fight him, but there's nothing to hold on to—nothing but him.
And that terrifies you.
"Let go," he murmurs. "Let it take over... Forget about him. Forget everything. Just feel."
Your body acts before your mind can catch up, your hand clutching the front of his shirt, fingers twisting into the fabric. It's an instinctual, desperate motion, driven by something deep inside—a need for warmth, for something to hold on to. You can't explain it, but you crave him now, the heat of his body, the solidity of his presence. You pull him closer, though you don't even understand why, though it feels all wrong.
"Look at you..." Sanzu's chuckle is dark, amused. "Hanging onto me like a lost puppy."
But he leans in anyway, his breath brushing against your neck as he speaks. His proximity feels like a lifeline, shielding you from the blinding lights that seem to intensify with every passing second. The room tilts, but his voice anchors you, even as it weaves dirty, degrading things in your ear—things that make your stomach twist, yet ignite something you don't want to acknowledge.
Your heart races, breath coming in ragged bursts. Everything is too intense—his touch, his words, the sensation of your body betraying you. You don't understand this feeling, this mixture of euphoria and humiliation. It's confusing, overwhelming, and yet, you can't shake the craving. The need for more.
His touch, his heat.
Then, without warning, he steps back.
The sudden absence of him is like a cold slap to the face, leaving you breathless and cold. Your body aches for the warmth he took with him, for the closeness that you didn't even know you craved. You hate it. You hate the emptiness he leaves behind.
He adjusts his waistcoat with a casual smirk, like this was all just a game to him, like your unraveling was just another form of entertainment.
"You're on your own now," he says, his voice detached, distant. "Enjoy the ride."
And just like that, he's gone, the door clicking shut behind him.
You're left sprawled across the table, the world spinning, lights burning into your skull. Your limbs are heavy, useless, and you try to move, to escape the overwhelming heat and dizziness suffocating you, but your body won't cooperate. You tumble to the floor, the carpet catching your fall with a soft thud.
A giggle bubbles up from your throat, though you don't know why. Everything feels distant, like you're floating, detached from reality. The warmth of the drug mingles with the cold ache of abandonment, creating a disorienting swirl of emotions that you can't make sense of.
And so you lie there, lost in the haze, your body sinking deeper into the plush floor as the laughter fades, leaving only the hollow emptiness behind.
Until, finally, the world pulls you into the darkness of sleep.
Manjiro Sano never cheated on you before. You've known him for nine years—nine long years where loyalty was never questioned, not once. He's never strayed, never looked at another woman the way he looks at you. That was the truth you clung to through all the chaos, the violence, the bloodshed. But tonight, the foundation of that truth crumbles before your eyes.
When you catch him with his wife, it's not exactly cheating, is it? Not when she's the one wearing the ring. Not when she's the one he made vows to. And yet, it feels like betrayal. If anything, you're the other woman now. Your position, the one you held so dearly, has shifted, without your consent.
He's the one betraying her, not you. But that logic doesn't make the pain any easier to bear. It still cuts deep, searing through you with what you had just witnessed in Mikey's office. You thought you were strong enough to endure it, thought you could compartmentalize the ache gnawing at your insides. You were wrong. The sight of them together burns itself into your mind like a wound that refuses to heal.
Until Sanzu forced that pill down your throat.
The memory floods back, vivid and suffocating. His twisted grin, the roughness of his hands, the way he made you feel so helpless. But now? Now you feel the strangest relief. The aching wound in your chest—the one Mikey and his wife carved out—fades into a distant blur, replaced by a creeping, unnatural numbness. Your mind is hazy, clouded, but in that haze, you find comfort.
The world felt kinder in that numbness. And for a moment, you were almost grateful for the relief Sanzu gave you. Almost.
When you wake up, the high is gone, leaving behind a pounding headache and a body that feels stiff, heavy, like someone drained the life from you. The floor feels strange under your hands, cold and unfamiliar. You blink, trying to orient yourself, and realize you're not on the floor anymore. Someone moved you—you're sprawled across the couch in the executive lounge, a blanket thrown haphazardly over you like an afterthought.
Your body screams in discomfort, muscles sore, your skin aching where his hands had pressed too hard. But the pain is secondary to the memories—Sanzu. That damn pill. The way he—
"You're awake."
The voice cuts through the fog in your mind, and your head snaps to the side. Mikey sits in a chair not far from you, the dim light casting shadows across his face. He's watching you, his expression unreadable, but his eyes... his eyes are different. Tired.
The night stretches behind him through the window, a dark sky lit by city lights. The office is quiet. Everyone else is gone. Even Sanzu.
It's just you and Mikey now.
You don't answer him. The ache in your chest resurfaces, sharper this time, suffocating as the image of him and his wife flashes in your mind again. It hits harder now, with Mikey sitting right in front of you, looking at you.
You push yourself up, your body swaying under the weight of exhaustion and leftover dizziness. Your throat is sore, bruised, where Sanzu's fingers had pressed too hard, too rough, forcing. You reach up instinctively, wincing at the tenderness, and you catch Mikey's gaze drop to your neck.
His jaw clenches. The air between you shifts—heavy, tense.
"He won't touch you again."
His voice is low, soft, but there's a dangerous edge beneath it, one that sends a chill through your veins. You know that tone. It's the tone he uses before someone dies.
You swallow, the reality sinking in. What has Mikey done? What did he do to Sanzu? The thought twists in your gut, unease settling deep inside you, but part of you pushes the thought away. Sanzu deserves whatever he gets, doesn't he? After what he did?
You swallow hard, trying to find your voice. "Forget about that... He gave me something. A pill."
Mikey's face shifts, unreadable for a moment, then he shrugs. "A pill? X, probably. He does that sometimes. Are you alright?"
That makes sense. No wonder you passed out so quickly. But it doesn't ease the anger boiling inside you, doesn't take away the humiliation of letting Sanzu drag you deeper into his twisted games when you were already at your lowest.
"I'm fine," you bite out, though it feels like a lie.
Fine? You're far from fine.
The words hang in the air, sharp, bitter, and when you look at Mikey, the ache in your chest becomes unbearable. You're not sure if it's anger or heartbreak that makes it so hard to breathe.
"Mikey..." you begin again, your voice cracking slightly, the words lodged in your throat. It's harder than you thought to say it, because once it's out, there's no taking it back.
"We can't just pretend like nothing's changed."
He doesn't look at you at first. He just stares at the floor, his jaw clenched tight, as though he's trying to force himself to say something, but can't. The silence stretches on painfully before he finally speaks, his voice so low you almost don't hear him.
"I know things are different." Each word sounds forced, like it's taking every ounce of strength for him to admit it. "But..."
Your heart clenches, your breath catching in your throat. There's always a 'but' with him, isn't there? Always some excuse, some reason why things can't go back to the way they were.
"But what, Mikey?" you ask, unable to stop yourself. It's not anger that drives you this time, but the desperation clawing at your insides. "You have feelings for her now, don't you?"
You watch him as he exhales slowly, his face still calm, almost detached. You wish he would say something, anything, to ease the ache in your chest. But he doesn't.
"I do," he says, his voice distant. It's a confession that feels like a knife to your heart. "I can't deny that. She's... she's gonna have my kid. It's not simple anymore."
The words hit you like a physical blow. You knew it, deep down, but hearing him say it aloud makes it real in a way you weren't prepared for. The sharp, bitter taste of betrayal lingers in the back of your throat. You swallow hard, trying to keep your emotions from spilling over, but your voice wavers when you speak again.
"And us?"
The question slips out, soft and fragile, but it cuts deeper than anything you've said before. You're asking about more than just your relationship—you're asking about the nine years you gave him, about the promises he made, about the love you once believed was unbreakable.
Mikey's eyes finally meet yours, and for a brief moment, you see the boy you once knew—the boy who swore he'd never leave you, who promised you forever under the stars when you were both too young to understand what that meant. His gaze softens for a second, a flicker of something almost tender, almost apologetic.
"I still care about you," he says, his voice low but steady. There's no hesitation in his tone, no doubt. But it's not the answer you were hoping for. "That hasn't changed."
But it has.
The truth of that slams into you with crushing finality. You shake your head, the weight of his words pressing down on you, suffocating you.
"Oh, it has, Mikey," you whisper, barely able to get the words out. "You know that."
The silence that follows is thick, heavy with everything left unsaid. Mikey doesn't argue, doesn't try to convince you otherwise. He just leans back in his chair, his hands falling limp at his sides, as though he's too exhausted to fight anymore. There's a defeat in his posture that wasn't there before, as if even he knows this is the end.
You want to scream at him, demand why it took him so long to be honest, why he let things fall apart so silently. But the words won't come. All that's left is the ache, the unbearable knowledge that the man you've loved for nearly a decade is slipping further away from you with every passing second.
Mikey looks like he's about to say something, his lips parting slightly, but then he falters, his shoulders sagging under the weight of whatever he's holding back.
"Maybe," he murmurs after a moment, his voice so soft you almost miss it. For the first time, he sounds vulnerable. "But I don't want to lose you. I can't..."
His voice breaks, just a little, and that cracks something inside of you too. Because it sounds like the truth, like the rawness of his feelings is finally breaking through the cold exterior he always wears. Nine years together, and this is where it's come to—a place where even his honesty feels too late. Too hollow. You know it's not enough. It never will be.
You don't want to lose him either. You don't want to believe that all those years meant nothing. But deep down, you know it already has. The moment she became his wife, the moment he chose her, you lost this battle. The war in your heart is over, and all that remains is the wreckage of what once was.
"You're already losing me," you whisper, the finality of it sinking in. Each word feels like a dagger in your own chest. "When you started choosing her, Mikey."
Mikey doesn't move, doesn't say a word. He just sits there, silent and still, like he's frozen in time. Maybe he doesn't have the strength to argue. Maybe, deep down, he knows it's true. He's losing you, and there's nothing left he can do to stop it.
You don't wait for his answer anymore. You've spent too long waiting for him to decide, too long hoping for a future that's already gone. The pain in your body—your aching muscles, the soreness from Sanzu's rough touch—it all fades into the background, drowned out by the unbearable weight of your broken heart.
You push yourself to your feet, your legs shaking slightly under the strain. But you don't let yourself falter. You can't, not now.
"You need to figure this out on your own," you say, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to stay strong. Your words are an ultimatum, a final plea for him to understand what he's done.
"Because I can't keep waiting for you to choose me. I'm not meant to be an option. I'm worth more than that."
There's nothing left to say. The words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of goodbye. Mikey doesn't move, doesn't speak, and that hurts more than anything else. He's letting you walk away.
Without another word, you turn and head toward the elevator. Each step feels like a thousand miles, like you're walking out of his life for good. And maybe you are. Maybe this is the end you've been dreading for so long.
The elevator doors close behind you with a soft click, and in the quiet of the enclosed space, the tears finally come. They fall silently at first, warm trails down your cheeks, but you don't wipe them away.
As the elevator descends, you let the tears flow freely. The weight of the years, the memories, the love you poured into him—it all hits you at once, and you don't stop it. You don't need to hide from the truth anymore.
Manjiro Sano has killed before. The thought of it had once terrified you, the cold certainty in his eyes when he spoke of violence always chilling.
You know this because you asked him, point-blank, one night when the weight of his world became too much to ignore. He didn't tell you directly, but the silence that followed, the coldness in his eyes, was answer enough. In that moment, the boy you knew, the boy you loved, disappeared into the shadows of the man he had become.
Still, you accepted him. Loved him anyway. You convinced yourself it was the only way to keep him—by accepting all of him, even the parts you couldn't bear to understand. You've always found a way to justify it—his actions, his choices, the darkness that clung to him like a second skin. Because loving him was the only thing you knew how to do. It became an instinct, a reflex, something that felt inevitable.
But now, the uncertainty gnaws at you, harder than ever before. Not just the heaviness of knowing who he is, but the gnawing question of what he's capable of—what he's done to the people around him.
What he's done to Sanzu.
Your mind races, replaying every detail of your last conversation with Mikey. The hard edge to his voice, the finality in his words. If Mikey killed him, it's because of you, isn't it? Because of what Sanzu did to you.
If Sanzu's dead, then his blood is on your hands.
That thought lodges itself deep in your chest, a weight too heavy to shake. Even after everything—after the drug, the violence, the way he pushed you to the edge—you can't stomach the idea of Sanzu dying because of you.
Which is why you find yourself here again, standing outside Sanzu's condominium in the middle of the night, your heart pounding so loud you can barely hear your own thoughts.
Mikey's words echo in your mind—his cold, distant voice, the final crack in everything you thought you knew about him. The realization had shattered you in ways you hadn't been prepared for.
It's over.
The words taste bitter on your tongue, but they ring with a truth that you can't deny. The boy you loved, the man you thought you'd stand beside forever—he's gone. And in his place is someone you no longer recognize.
Your feet move almost on their own as you approach Sanzu's door, but a hesitation stops you just before you reach the doorbell. Do you even know what you're doing here? What you want? You aren't sure. But the pull toward him, toward finding out what Mikey's done, is stronger than your doubts.
With a shaky breath, you press the doorbell. The silence that follows is deafening, punctuated only by the racing of your heart. Each second that passes feels like a lifetime, until finally, the shuffle of footsteps inside tells you someone's there.
The door swings open with a creak, and your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him. Relief washes over you—but only for a second. What replaces it is a sharp stab of pity.
Sanzu looks like hell. His one eye is swollen and bruised, a fresh bandage covering the right side of his face. His lips are split and caked with dried blood, a sight that twists something deep in your chest.
His trademark sneer is still there, but it's marred by the pain that's evident in the way he stands, slightly hunched, favoring one side. There's an anger in his eyes, but behind it, you can see the weariness, the vulnerability he would never admit to.
"What the fuck do you want now?" Sanzu snaps, his voice sharp despite the obvious discomfort he's in. He's trying to sound like his usual self, but you can tell the fight has been knocked out of him. He's hurting. Badly.
Your mouth opens to respond, the words on the tip of your tongue, but they die there. Seeing him like this—broken, battered—it's not what you expected. It shakes something loose inside of you. Your eyes scan his injuries, your mind reeling with the knowledge that Mikey did this. The boy you loved did this.
Mikey isn't supposed to be this brutal. Not with his own.
The thought makes your chest tighten painfully, and before you can stop it, the tidal wave of emotion crashes over you. Tears spill from your eyes, hot and unchecked. You thought you'd cried all the tears you had to give tonight, but this time, they come from a place deeper than heartbreak. This time, you're crying for everything—for Mikey, for Sanzu, for the person you've become in all this mess.
Sanzu's sneer fades slightly as he takes in the sight of you, replaced by an annoyed scowl. He's trying to hide his discomfort, but you can see the confusion in his eyes.
"The hell are you crying for? Stop that now!" His words are rough, but there's an edge of bewilderment in them.
He doesn't understand why you're here, why you're crying.
But you can't stop. The sobs come hard and fast, tearing through you in a way that makes it hard to breathe. You're overwhelmed, consumed by the realization that Mikey is no longer the man you fell in love with. When did he start to change? When did the violence become more than just a part of his world, but a part of him?
Sanzu watches you, his irritation growing as your sobs continue. He's never been good with emotions—especially not yours.
"Shit," he mutters under his breath, rubbing a hand across his face and wincing as he touches the bruise. "You're crying over him, huh?"
His words hit you like a slap, and more tears fall, a pitiful, uncontrollable mess. And in that moment, you don't care. You don't care that Sanzu's dangerous, that he's hurt you before, that he's the reason you ended up here in the first place. All you can think about is the fact that Mikey—your Mikey—is gone.
He's no longer the boy who used to hold you late at night, whispering promises of a future that now feels like a distant dream. He's no longer the man who looked at you like you were his entire world.
He's no longer yours.
Sanzu scoffs, the sound harsh in the quiet hallway. "Fuck's sake, stop crying. You're acting like a kid."
But even his sharp words don't reach you.
When you don't respond, don't even acknowledge him, something in Sanzu snaps. He can't stand it anymore—the emotions, the tears, the fact that you're standing here crying over someone else while he's falling apart.
"Goddammit!" he snarls, and before you can blink, he slams the door in your face.
The sound echoes in the empty hallway, a loud, final punctuation to the moment. You're left standing there, your body trembling as the sobs finally start to quiet, though the tears continue to stream down your cheeks. You're alone again, and the weight of that reality hits you harder than anything else.
Mikey is gone. And so is the life you thought you'd have.
Manjiro Sano hated seeing you cry. Every time your tears would spill, it was like the world stopped spinning. His face would twist in pain, even if the tears weren't his fault. He once said that when you cried, it felt like he had failed—like he should have protected you from whatever caused them.
He always pulled you into his arms when you broke down, his touch so gentle it was almost unreal. He would stroke your hair, whispering that everything was okay, hiding you in the crook of his shoulder so you wouldn't feel so exposed.
But that Mikey? That Mikey is long gone.
Now you're standing outside Sanzu's condo unit, your fingers shaking as you try to dry your tear-streaked face. The cold air bites at your skin, or maybe it's the weight of what's happened tonight that chills you to the bone.
The second time you've cried in front of Sanzu today.
The first time, his hands were around your throat, forcing a pill past your lips, his eyes distant and clouded with drugs. The second time, there was no pill, no high to hide behind—just bruises, pain, and a door slammed in your face.
You shouldn't have come here, but at least you know he's alive. Mikey hadn't killed him, though something in the pit of your stomach told you it could have easily gone that way. You should feel relieved. Instead, the relief is mingled with anger, a deep-seated frustration that makes your heart pound even harder.
Just as you wipe away the last tear, the door swings open again.
Sanzu stands in the doorway, his silhouette stark against the dim light inside. His scowl deepens as his eyes land on you, scanning your face like he's surprised you're still standing there.
Then, without a word, he grabs your wrist and pulls you inside, slamming the door shut behind you. His grip is rough, but it loosens as soon as you're inside, leaving you stunned and blinking in the middle of his condo unit.
He disappears into another room and comes back with a box of tissues, shoving it toward you without a word. You take it, still in shock, as your eyes land on the bandage on his cheek. It's crooked, slapped on without much care, and his busted lip is still untreated, blood crusting around the edges, making him look even more broken than usual. You flinch inwardly at the sight.
"Did you get that wound treated?" Your voice is softer than you intended, concern slipping through the cracks in your resolve.
Sanzu glares at you. "What's it to you?"
You ignore his harshness, stepping closer. "You need to clean it properly," you say as your eyes fall to the faded scars at the corners of his mouth, scars you've always tried not to stare at too long.
"Or it'll leave... a scar."
"Yeah? So what?" he mutters, brushing off your concern as he walks away.
You stare at him, the words catching in your throat. The sight of him—bruised and bandaged sloppily—somehow makes your chest ache in ways you don't fully understand.
"Don't you have any antiseptic?" you ask, turning toward the door. "I'll go buy some if—"
"I have it," he grunts, cutting you off. "Top shelf, next to you. You'd think I wouldn't know how to deal with a damn wound in this line of work?"
You glance at the haphazard bandage on his cheek, clearly not impressed by his self-care. Still, you open the shelf and retrieve a small emergency kit.
"Then why didn't you treat the cut on your lip?" you ask, your voice a little firmer this time as you sit on the edge of his couch. "Surely you know you need to put antiseptic on it."
Sanzu grumbles under his breath, looking away. "Because... it fucking hurts, alright?"
You freeze for a second, blinking at him in surprise. Sanzu—the man who seems to thrive on chaos and pain—can't handle the sting of a simple cut? It's almost absurd, and yet, in that moment, you glimpse a flicker of something real beneath his usual mask. Vulnerability.
"I didn't think you were afraid of pain," you murmur, more to yourself than to him.
"I'm not afraid of it," he snaps, his voice rising defensively. "I just fucking hate it."
There's a childishness in his tone that catches you off guard, like he's throwing a tantrum rather than admitting weakness. The outburst lingers in the air for a moment before you decide to ignore it, reaching for the antiseptic in the first aid kit.
"Let me treat it." Your voice is calm, quiet. An olive branch, if only he'd take it.
Sanzu stares at you, his jaw tight, his eyes narrowing. "Forget it," he mutters, brushing you off. "I don't need you all over my business."
"You're a dick, you know that?" you say, watching him limp slightly as he heads toward the pantry. The guilt sits heavy in your stomach.
He doesn't even glance back as he opens the fridge, retrieving a beer. "And I get paid for it," he replies, voice flat, devoid of his usual smugness.
You roll your eyes as he cracks the can open, lifting it to his lips, his pink hair a mess, like he's been through more than just a fight with Mikey. The black shirt and sweatpants he's wearing make him look almost... domestic. It hits you, suddenly—this familiarity, this strange sense of calm despite everything. It reminds you of Mikey, the way he used to walk around your apartment. The way things used to be.
Your heart twists.
"We broke up," you blurt out, the words spilling from your lips before you can stop them. It's like ripping off a bandage—quick and painful, but it has to be done.
Sanzu pauses mid-sip, his back still turned to you. You watch as he downs the rest of the beer in one long gulp, crushing the can in his hand before tossing it aside.
"'Bout time. I'm surprised it took him this long to figure it out," he mutters, but his words lack bite. There's no usual mockery, no cruelty, just... hollow indifference.
You study him, sensing the weight of his own pain, the bruises left by Mikey—not just on his body but somewhere deeper. You want to ask, to probe at the cracks in his usual defenses, but you don't. Instead, you take a breath and shift the conversation.
"I know, right?" You force a smile that feels thin, brittle. "I'm so heartbroken." The sarcasm coats your words, but it can't hide the tremor in your voice.
"You must be feeling pretty good right now, so why not do me a favor?" You motion for him to sit beside you. "Sit here and let me treat your wounds."
Sanzu turns slowly, his eyes scanning you as if weighing your request. You can tell he's torn, that a part of him wants to accept the help, even if his pride keeps getting in the way.
You sit there, waiting, knowing that if he needed to push you away, he would've already done it. You don't say anything, just hold your ground, offering him something he's clearly not used to—genuine care.
Finally, with a sharp exhale, he mutters, the words almost begrudging, "Fine. But don't expect me to thank you."
You smile softly, shaking your head as you hold out the antiseptic. "I wouldn't dream of it."
He walks toward you, but instead of sitting next to you, he drops down on the opposite couch, legs sprawled out carelessly, almost as if daring you to come to him instead. You raise an eyebrow, the familiar exasperation rising within you.
"You could at least make it easier for me," you grumble, standing up and walking over.
There's a flicker of amusement in his eyes as you sit down in front of him on the coffee table, closer now, the scent of alcohol faint but present on his breath. He watches you carefully, eyes following your movements with that predatory focus he always seems to carry, even in moments like this.
When you peel back the bandage on his cheek, revealing the jagged scrape underneath, he winces, trying but failing to hide it. You smirk despite yourself, dabbing the wound with antiseptic.
"You're such a baby," you tease, the words slipping out before you can stop them.
The reaction is immediate. "Am not," he snaps, his voice cutting through the space between you. "Don't fucking call me that again." There's a sharp edge to his words, but you can hear the vulnerability beneath it, the bruised pride of someone who's used to fighting, not being taken care of.
You ignore his outburst, focusing on his wound. This time, you're more careful, your touch gentler as you apply the ointment. His lips press into a thin line, and you can feel the effort it takes for him to sit still. There's something oddly endearing about it, watching him struggle with the idea of being vulnerable, even for a moment.
He really hates being called a baby, doesn't he?
When you finish with the bandage, you move on to his split lip, focusing on the dried blood caked around the cut. He avoids your gaze, scowling as if pretending this isn't happening.
As your fingers brush against the faded scars at the corners of his mouth, curiosity gnaws at you. Before you can stop yourself, you press a thumb to one of the scars, feeling the jagged line beneath your skin.
Sanzu jerks back, his eyes blazing as he swats your hand away. "What the hell?" he growls, the vulnerability from a moment ago vanishing beneath the weight of his anger.
"Sorry," you murmur, pulling your hand back. "I got distracted."
The air between you shifts again, tense and fragile. You can tell you've touched something he doesn't want to share, a part of him that's still too raw, too guarded. And yet, you can't help but wonder what it would take for him to open up—to let you see more than just the surface.
You watch him stands abruptly in front of you, like he's about to bolt. "But I'm not done yet," you lie, trying to keep him there, keep the moment from slipping away.
He hesitates, glaring at you, but after a second, he sits back down with a grunt. "Whatever, just get it over with. I don't have all night to wait around."
You stay still, your hands resting in your lap as you stare at him, not moving to pick up the first aid kit again. "Can I ask you something?"
Sanzu slouches deeper into the couch, his eyes narrowing at you. "What now?"
You take a breath, steadying yourself. "How did you get those scars?"
The question hangs in the air between you, heavy and loaded with meaning. For a moment, you expect him to laugh it off, to mock you for even asking. But instead, he just stares at you, his gaze cold and distant, like he's weighing whether or not to answer.
When he finally speaks, his voice is low, almost a whisper. "Mikey gave them to me."
The admission hits you like a punch to the gut. Mikey? Mikey did that to him? You feel your heart sink, your stomach twisting in disbelief. Judging by the faded look of the scars, it wasn't recent—this happened years ago. Long before Bonten. So why...?
"Why?" Your voice cracks, betraying the flood of emotions rising inside you.
Sanzu's eyes darken, his expression hardening. "I don't fucking remember," he snaps, his tone sharp, like he's daring you to push further.
But the look in his eyes tells you more than his words ever could. This isn't something he wants to talk about—not with you, not with anyone.
You lower your gaze, staring down at your hands as the weight of everything threatens to crush you again. The urge to cry surfaces, hot tears stinging your eyes. You've cried so much today, and in front of him of all people. It's humiliating at this point.
You stand, trying to escape the overwhelming weight of it all. "It's done. So I'll just... go," you mumble, stepping toward the door.
Before you can make it far, Sanzu's hand wraps around your wrist, his fingers cool against your skin. His grip is light, almost hesitant. You look down at where his fingers hold you, then back up at him.
"What is it?"
You can feel your voice trembling, on the verge of breaking. You're so close to falling apart, and he's just... watching.
"Want this?" he asks suddenly, holding up a bottle filled with colorful pills.
He gives it a small shake, and the pills rattle softly inside. The smirk that spreads across his face now is familiar, predatory. This is the Sanzu you know, the one you hate.
"This shit's the real deal. Remember the other stuff I gave you earlier? That was just a trial run." He laughs, that low, mocking sound that makes your blood boil.
Your chest tightens as you stare at the pills, your mind flashing back to the euphoria from earlier. It had felt so good, so easy, like all the pain had vanished for a while. And yet... you narrow your eyes at him, anger replacing the temptation. How could he think you'd ever take anything from him again after what he did?
Sanzu sees the anger flash across your face, and the smirk fades. He lets go of your wrist and looks away, his expression hardening again. "Forget it. Just leave."
For a moment, you almost do. You almost walk out the door and leave him behind. But something makes you stop. The way his hand had felt around your wrist, the way his voice had softened when he realized what he was offering. You glance back at him, his body tense as he stares ahead, avoiding your gaze. And suddenly, you don't want to leave anymore.
"I want it," you say quietly, turning fully to face him. "Give it to me."
Sanzu's eyes flick back to you, surprise flashing briefly before his usual sneer returns. "Fuck no," he grunts. "You think I'm gonna give you this just to watch you walk out the door?"
There's a pause. His words hang in the air, and for a split second, his eyes widen slightly, like he's just surprised himself with the admission. He hadn't meant to say that, but now it's out there—he doesn't want you to leave. Not yet.
He actually wants your company.
You can't help the bitter smile that tugs at your lips. "What, are you gonna choke me again?" you ask, your voice cutting through the silence like a blade.
His head snaps toward you, confusion etched into his features. "Huh? No. That's—" He stumbles over the words, almost defensive, like he hadn't considered how far he'd gone before.
Without waiting for him to finish, you plop down on the couch beside him, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body. You extend your hand, palm up, eyes fixed on his.
"Fine. Give me that, Sanzu."
For a moment, he doesn't move, his gaze searching your face. Then, slowly, a smirk tugs at his lips again—the same smug, infuriating expression you've come to expect from him.
Manjiro Sano has warned you more than once: avoid Sanzu when he's high. The fact that you were Mikey's girlfriend has always been enough to keep Sanzu from crossing certain lines when he's sober, but when the drugs took over, his already fragile self-control shatters.
The warning always carries weight, like a veiled threat that lingers at the back of your mind, but tonight... tonight, you don't care. You're too numb, too broken, and the reckless part of you craves the release Sanzu offers. The part of you that wants to forget Mikey.
The pill between Sanzu's fingers gleams like forbidden fruit, a dual-colored capsule that promises escape. His grin is lazy, predatory, as if the thrill of watching you self-destruct is part of his form of entertainment. Without a word, you reach for the pill, swallowing it down without hesitation. The bitter taste lingers at the back of your throat, but the anticipation of oblivion drowns out any second thoughts.
Within minutes, the edges of reality begin to blur. The room shifts, the walls breathe, and the floor ripples like water beneath your feet. Colors bleed into each other, swirling in dizzying patterns that make you feel weightless. The cool marble floor presses against your cheek as you lie sprawled on the ground, your limbs heavy yet disconnected from your body.
Above you, like a ghostly shadow, Sanzu lounges on the couch, watching you with an intensity that both unnerves and thrills you. He takes a pill of his own before the next wave hits you—stronger this time, pulling you under completely.
For a fleeting moment, you let everything go—the pain, the heartbreak, the memories of Mikey's distant eyes as you walked away from him. All the weight of your unspoken love, of your shattered heart, evaporates in the fog of euphoria. It's terrifying how easy it is to forget, to lose yourself in the numbness. But somewhere, deep in the pit of your soul, the fear lingers.
What will be left of you when the high wears off?
When you wake the next morning, reality presses you down like a vise. Your head pounds, each throb a reminder of the drug still pulsing through your system. The soft morning light filters through the unfamiliar room's windows. You blink, disoriented, trying to piece together what happened.
Right... Sanzu. You were in his condo last night, and this—this must be his bedroom.
As you shift, the soft rustle of sheets draws your attention, and your heart leaps into your throat. Sanzu lies beside you, his face buried in the pillow, his hair a wild mess of pink strands. He's half-naked, the blanket draped loosely over his hips, and for a moment, panic seizes you.
Your fingers instinctively brush over your clothes—still on, thank God. Relief washes over you, but it's fleeting. The haze of the previous night is still there, muddy and unclear, and you have no idea what happened between the two of you after you'd lost yourself to the high.
Whatever it was, it doesn't seem like you had sex with him. At least... you hope you didn't. Two people who are really high wouldn't bother to put their clothes back on after sex, right?
You sit up carefully, the bed creaking softly beneath you, and that's when you notice them—his scars. Lines of jagged, raw skin crisscross his back like a violent roadmap of his past. Some scars are old, barely visible against his pale skin, while others are fresh, still healing from whatever recent chaos he's endured.
You know that Sanzu lives in violence, that it clings to him like a second skin, but seeing the marks so intimately, so vulnerably laid bare before you—it stirs something inside you. A deep, unsettling pity, but you quickly shove it down, pushing it past the ache in your chest.
Your shift your gaze to the floor, where the bottle of pills lies tipped over, colorful capsules scattered across the marble floor. How many did you take last night? Too many, you're sure. You feel their lingering effects, the way they dull the edges of your thoughts, how they slow your movements.
Shaking off the grogginess, you move toward the door, eyes landing on the katana propped up against the wall. A glint of steel in the early light.
You pause, your hand gripping the door handle. The memory of what Sanzu did before flashes through your mind—the way he choked you, forcing the first pill down your throat. Mikey has punished him for it, but still, you felt guilty enough to treat his wounds. Then, stupidly, you let yourself get high with him again. Willingly.
But the anger still simmers under the surface. All those cruel words over the years, the taunts, the smirks, the way he looks down on you. He's infuriating. And this... this is your chance to get back at him.
Without thinking, you walk over to the katana. The hilt feels cool and foreign in your hand as you lift it, the weight of it surprising you. But you don't hesitate.
As you drag the katana behind you, the metal scraping loudly against the floor, the sound reverberates in the silent hallway. Each step feels like defiance, like a rebellion against everything Sanzu represents—the control, the twisted power he holds over you.
In the basement, you find the garbage bin. Without a second thought, you dump the katana in, the clang of steel against metal echoing in the empty space. It isn't enough to truly hurt him, but it's enough to piss him off, enough to make him notice.
And that's what you want, isn't it? To get under his skin the way he always gets under yours? To make him feel something—anything—that isn't amusement at your suffering?
As you walk away, a small, bitter smile tugs at your lips. You know this won't end well. You're playing with fire, and Sanzu is dangerous when pushed. But the part of you that's still reeling from Mikey, still wounded and desperate, craves this chaos. You want to see what will happen when Sanzu finds the katana, want to watch the fury flash across his face. Because for once, you aren't the one falling apart.
Maybe it's madness, or maybe it's something deeper—a need to reclaim some form of control in a world that's stripped you of it. Either way, you aren't running anymore.
You'll face whatever comes next, even if it destroys you.
Manjiro Sano haunts you everywhere. He's with you in the empty bed, a ghost beside you as you stare at the ceiling, counting the cracks in the dark. When you’re in the kitchen, his voice echoes in your mind, teasing, laughing, pulling you into memories that make your chest tighten with an ache that hasn't dulled. In the mirror, you see him staring back, his familiar, cold gaze mocking you as you brush your teeth, as if daring you to forget the life you shared with him.
It's been weeks since the breakup, but the weight of nine years doesn't just vanish. You were naive to think it would be easy to let go. After all, you didn't just lose Mikey—you lost the future you had envisioned, the dream of always being by his side, no matter what.
You'd never loved anyone else, never felt the safety of another person's arms. You never had a reason to think you'd need to. And when you first learned about the arranged marriage three years ago, you foolishly believed that nothing could ever come between you and Mikey, that love would always win. However, reality had other plans.
Eventually, it all became too much. So, you made a decision. You packed your things and left the apartment you had once shared with him, that place filled with memories—of laughter, of love, of a time when he was truly yours. But now, those memories felt like weights pulling you under, drowning you in a past that you could no longer live in.
So, you found a new place, a smaller apartment far away from that suffocating ghost. You didn't tell anyone from Bonten. Not a soul knew where you were now. It was supposed to be your clean break.
But fate never lets you escape that easily.
Weeks after you've settled into your new life, you find yourself out for a casual walk, basking in the simplicity of a quiet day. An ice cream cone in one hand, a plastic bag of snacks in the other—small, ordinary comforts in an otherwise chaotic life. You're beginning to breathe again, to feel the freedom of being on your own. And then you see him.
Mikey.
He's sitting outside a café, his silver hair catching the sunlight, his posture as calm and unreadable as ever. But next to him is her. His wife. The sight of them together makes your stomach lurch, your heart clenching as if gripped by an iron fist. She's laughing, and though Mikey's face is still as cold and impassive as always, there's something different about him. Softer. He looks at her in a way that sends a sharp pang through your chest.
He's moving on.
Your breath catches, and for a moment, the world feels like it's tilting on its axis. You need to get out of here. Now.
Before you can make your escape, though, you spot them. Ran's lazy, amused expression is the first thing you notice, his sharp eyes locking onto you with that all-too-familiar smirk.
"Well, well. Look who it is," he drawls, his voice dripping with mockery. But it's the presence next to him that makes your blood run cold.
Sanzu.
The moment his gaze lands on you, the air around you thickens. His eyes narrow, his lips curl into a sneer, and you know. He knows. You can almost feel the anger rolling off of him, simmering beneath the surface. You've crossed a line with him, and now, you'll pay for it.
Your heart hammers in your chest, panic seizing your throat. The plastic bag slips from your hand, the ice cream falling, forgotten, as it splatters against the pavement. You don't even care. All that matters now is getting away.
You turn and run.
"Oi!" Sanzu's voice slices through the air, sharp and dangerous. "Stop running!"
Like hell you will.
You know what he's capable of, and you know there's nothing holding him back now—not Mikey, not anyone. Not after what you did. The memory flashes in your mind—the clattering of metal, the weight of his katana in your hands as you threw it into the trash. The reckless satisfaction of it all.
You can hear his footsteps behind you, the sound growing louder with each passing second. He's faster than you remember, and your chest tightens in fear. Sanzu is dangerous even when he's calm, but this?
This is personal.
The crowded street is a blur as you dash through it, weaving past confused onlookers, your heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst. Dignity is the last thing on your mind right now—you're running for survival. And yet, amidst the chaos, a ridiculous thought crosses your mind: If I die today, I'll die looking like shit. No makeup, no cute clothes, just sweat and terror.
You can feel him gaining on you, the heat of his rage practically burning at your back, and desperation grips you. You need to think fast, or you won't make it. That's when you spot the riverbank up ahead, the water glistening in the distance.
Without a second thought, you sprint toward it, your feet barely touching the ground as you throw yourself into the icy water. The shock of the cold steals your breath, but you don't stop moving. You swim, forcing your body through the water, the chill biting into your skin.
When you finally break the surface, you gasp, a fleeting moment of triumph swelling in your chest. You've escaped.
Or so you think.
Your heart sinks when you see him standing on the riverbank, his figure dark and ominous against the bright sky. Sanzu is already peeling off his blazer, his eyes fixed on you with a predator's focus. There's no hesitation as he tosses it aside and kicks off his shoes. Of course, he's going to follow you. Of course, he's not letting this go.
You should have known better.
Sanzu dives into the water without a second thought, cutting through the current with frightening speed. And that's when it hits you—he isn't just chasing you out of anger. He's chasing you because you've crossed a line you can never uncross. Because Sanzu doesn't follow any rules, doesn't have any boundaries.
And neither of you are sane enough to stop now.
< part two ends >
author's notes. heyy beloved sanzu kinnies <3 i'm so so happy & grateful for all the love you showed to part one of BNT that i decided to bless you guys with twice as long part two hehe :D hope you guys enjoyed it! i've got some fun stuff planned for sanzu and y/n in the next part... so please stay tuned! also, i'd love to hear your thoughts so do leave some notes & comments!! tysm for reading guys! stay awesome ☆(>ᴗ•)
taglist. @iluv-ace @reiners-milkbiddies @bontenbabyy @risheliette @loveantonnlee @sukunas-bitxh @honeygonebads-blog @r3yk @soilaluna @l1ttl3m1ss666 @novv @slvdsjjk @miffysoo @qyoongi @drakensdarling @ask-the-insect-hashira @awkwardaardvarkforever @thebiggestlovergirlever @shinichirolover @kyyuuuuu @meowww1041 @kiasnotforever (comment below if you’d like to be added to the taglist!)
© CANDYEAGER. do not copy, repost, modify, or translate my works in any other platforms.
#candyeager#candyeagerwrites#divider creds @saradika graphics#tokyo revengers#tokrev#sanzu haruchiyo#haruchiyo sanzu#tokrev sanzu#sanzu#sanzu x reader#haruchiyo sanzu x reader#sanzu haruchiyo x reader#sanzu fluff#tokrev fluff#sanzu fanfic#tokrev fanfic#tokyo revengers fanfic#bonten fanfic#bonten sanzu#bonten#one shot#sanzu x fem!reader#reader#sanzu x you#haruchiyo sanzu x you#sanzu haruchiyo x you#sanzu angst#mikey angst#haruchiyo akashi#akashi haruchiyo
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Alpha 141! X Omega reader??
Hii! I don't usually post my writing, but I had this idea and wrote up a draft/demo of and idea i have. Let me know what yall think and if you want to see it continued! Reblog if you like it please! Also I didn't really edit it, sorry lol!
You tapped away on your mechanical keyboard, the clicky sounds saving you from the quiet boredom that came with running your base's front desk. Running it of course was your punishment for.. Well lets just say when tensions get high you struggle to keep your mouth shut. And it just had to be today that you get dished this punishment. The day one-four-one was assigned to come in, you know to check the place out, see if there was a ‘missfit’ to take on their team.
You see, you unfortunately work at a special “military”' base, military used lightly as it's not really used for the government to have soldiers willing to fight, but actually to protect the government from lethal beings that could be useful military weapons. You and everyone else, including your current captain, have very dark reasons for why you’re in here. The only way you specifically could get out of the hellish base was if your true mates, yes mates with an “S”, came for you. Legally the government cannot keep anyone from their true mates, but considering you definitely had four, you had a snowball chance in hell of them coming to you.
Letting out a loud dramatic sigh you looked over your writing. Paperwork was the bane of your existence. Rubbing your eyes you go back to typing the latest mission report; only to be interrupted by the large military doors swinging open with a slam. In came five different, clearly not impressed people. Four out of the five are men, built like true military muscle heads, while the fifth was very fit female. Taking a deep breath you slip into profession mode, choosing to address the women instead of the four intimidating alpha males.
“Hello! Can I please get your names, ids, and the reason why you are here?” Your voice was overly sweet, sweeter than it usually was.
“I’m Kate Laswell with one-four-one. John-” she tossed her head to the side.
“Oh, of course you are,” You dropped the cute assistant act, pulling back into a neutral look. Blowing air through your nose you started to type a quick check in for the special operation group one-four-one. Laswell gaped at you.
“Okay,” You flicked your head up rather fast, causing your dog tags to clink with your military issued scent blocking collar.
“You guys are good,I’m Bite risk by the way,” you inform them that you yourself are on the team they will be montering, before telling them where to go. Laswell smiled at you, tipping her head in thanks as she strutted down the hall. One-four-one on the other hand, took their time analyzing you as they passed by. As the last and largest one, the one with the warm looking skullmask, passed by you rolled your eyes, going back to your mission report.
“Sir, I’m aware that you want to see your daughter and I am deeply empathetic to what you're going through right now. But unless you show me your Id, I won't be able to even let you into the security system for public visit days, which as I said are: Saturdays, Sundays and specific holidays,” your absolutely fed up. Your team including one-four-one, who are currently coming down the hall to collect you, could even tell just by the stressed undertone of your voice.
“I’m not going to show some barracks bunny my id! I want to see my daughter! Now let me in! I served in world war two! I don’t deserve this disturbing treatment from some omega floozy! You have no idea what it means to work in the military! You're just some whore-” A loud crash. Your captain quickly ran into the lobby, quickly ripping you off the disrespectful older man. Thankfully she was quick enough to prevent him from leaving with a deep bite scar. Your eyes glowed red as you tried to throw her off, but she kept her hold on you, even as you dug your elongated claws into what skin you could reach.
“Fang! Get him out of here!” She commanded one of your team mates. As he was being escorted out your captain shoved your face into the crook of her neck, letting out a strong calming scent. You drank it up, forcing your feral omega down. Meanwhile task force one-four-one silently watched. Genuinely surprised how quick things escalated in only the first three hours of their two week observation.
“Well, this is going to be interesting,” Price said, his thick British accent quickly catching your omegas' attention, red eyes looking over to the entire team. Interesting indeed you thought.
#poly 141#141 x reader#price x reader#ghost x reader#soap x reader#gaz x reader#john price#cod mw2#x reader#alpha x omega#x omega reader#john soap mactavish x reader#simon riley x reader#kate laswell#kyle gaz garrick
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I wanna see you but you're not mine
Tags: suggestive, 18+ only, angst, cheating
RPF below, don't interact if you are not comfortable with it.
You are melting into each others mouths, soft breathless moans filling the dark room, his beard scratches your chin, but you don't care, not when he tastes so good, his hands so tight around your waist. You haven't been together that long, but you think you love him. Know he loves you, because he says it into your ear, pressing his body against yours, making you lay down further on the bed.
You can hear the sounds of the party downstairs. The noise of glass breaking and a second later your friend's voice scolding someone making you both laugh separating for a split second before his lips meet your neck. You feel his hands start to bunch up your skirt around your hips, his rough hands caressing your soft skin.
You don't hear the door open.
"Oh shit" a familiar voice startles you. Your boyfriend separates from you, turning his head towards the noise, his hand moving to cover your exposed thigh.
The door is slightly open, warm light spilling into the room. You catch a glimpse of blond hair, as you look from behind your boyfriend's shoulder.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt." Joost dramatically covers his eyes with a hand, standing in the doorway. "Promise I didn't see anything."
"Hey. What's up." your boyfriend sits up, adjusting his pants, trying to cover up the evident bulge.
"Chris can't figure out the sound system. He was looking for you. I can tell you are busy-" Joost removes the hand that was covering his eyes, looking at you and your boyfriend.
"No, it's okay. I'll go help." your boyfriend replies. He leans in to place a quick kiss on your lips. "They can't do anything without me." you giggle at his words, wiping your lipstick from his lips, fixing his hair at least a little.
"I'll be downstairs." he says to you and gets up, moving past Joost, patting him on the shoulder.
You turn on a nightstand lamp, the soft light making you squint at the contrast.
"Can I come in?" Joost asks hesitating.
"Sure." You smile at him, as you stand up to check your makeup in the mirror. He comes into the room, closing the door behind him.
"Feels like I haven't seen you in forever." he says leaning against the door.
"Does it?" you look at him through the mirror. "We've seen each other last weekend at dinner."
"Yeah, but I mean just the two of us."
"Oh. I guess it has been awhile." you sit back on the bed rummaging through your purse looking for a lipstick to reapply it. "You are so busy now. Big star." you tease him laughing.
He smiles and sits next to you. "I missed you."
"I missed you too." you say softly, looking up at him. His eyes are filled with so much adoration, but there is also something else underneath. His gaze moving down to your lips, before returning to your eyes. This look would have made your heart race a year ago, but you buried those feelings deep enough.
"He doesn't deserve you." he says suddenly.
"What?" you look at him confused, you must have misheard him.
"I can't stand seeing you with him." he shakes his head.
"Joost, you are drunk." you say with a chuckle, even though you don't find this funny at all.
"I am." he says turning to fully face you now. "But I mean it. It makes my insides twist whenever I see him put his hands around you. Holding you close" he closes his eyes, "when it should be me."
You feel like your blood is boiling, he can't be serious right now. You and Joost have been friends for many years, although his personality and similar interests you share made you develop a crush on him not that long after meeting him. You hid your feelings towards him scared of ruining your friendship, not being sure if he feels the same way towards you. Until one day you spilled it all out to him, and everything changed, at least for you.
"What is wrong with you? Why are you doing this? He doesn't deserve you" you repeat his words. "And you do?" he winces at your words. "Remember what you said after that night?"
That night. The night you twisted your ankle falling off a bike and Joost helped you get to your apartment, his hands holding you so firm yet gentle, brushing away any fallen tears. Cooing at your winces when he was wrapping a bandage around your ankle. When he kissed your knee so softly, it made your breath catch. You ended up drinking wine, watching trash TV shows till the moon shone through your window.
"How is your foot?" he asks when a commercial break starts.
"Still hurts, but I'll live." you say turning to him. "You didn't have to stay with me."
"I wanted to." Joost replies, his hand brushing your hair softly away from your face.
You didn't think about it, you leaned in and kissed him.
"I'm sorry. I-" you pulled away, but before you could finish your sentence, he crashed his lips into yours. His lips felt like everything you imagined and better, you couldn't get enough of him, but scared to be too eager. It makes you moan into his mouth when he takes more initiative, you feel his hand on your cheek, coordinating your moves, deepening the kiss. You have to separate for air far too quick. You look at him, both of you breathing heavily, still processing what just happened.
"I wanted to do this for a while." you confess to him.
"You should have." he kisses you again, pushing you to lay down making sure not to put any pressure on your injured leg. Your mind is racing a hundred miles an hour, this is finally happening, it seems so silly now that you were scared to confess your feelings to him. Your train of thoughts is interrupted when you feel him bite your bottom lip, the feeling making you gasp and open your mouth in surprise. He uses the opportunity to introduce his tongue to yours.
He is kissing you so deep, making you feel like he also wanted you all this time, you wrap your hands around his shoulders pulling him even closer. He smiles into the kiss, making your teeth clash, but you continue making out, not being able to separate from each other. He touches you all over in exploration trying to feel you and at the same time pull more of the delicious sounds from you, which taste so good mixed with your wine stained lips on his mouth.
You fall asleep cuddled up together on the couch, your back to his chest, his big hand splayed on your stomach. Feeling like the happiest person in the world, tracing the tattoo on his knuckles, his steady breath on your neck. You don't remember falling asleep, but you can't wait to wake up and see him again.
You wake up alone. Memories of last night flood in, for a second you can't decide if it was a dream or reality. You yawn stretching, and hear footsteps coming from the kitchen.
"Hi." you beam up when you see Joost come into the room, a steaming cup in his hand.
"Hi." when you don't hear the same excitement in his voice and a weak smile on his face, a chill runs down your spine, not in a good way.
"I made you coffee." he says placing the cup on the table in front of you.
"Thank you." you look at him.
He sits down on the side of the couch you both slept in, his hair still messy.
"About last night." he is avoiding your eyes. "I think we should stay friends"
You look at him, not being able to find what to say right now.
"I'm sorry if I led you on." he finally looks at you.
"No, no. I am sorry. It was a mistake." you say your voice uncharacteristically flat, drinking the coffee, which is too bitter, not the way you like it.
"I knew you would understand." he feels like a rock has lifted off his shoulders, meanwhile you can barely breathe trying not to cry, all the color has drained from the room.
He promised this wouldn't ruin your friendship and it didn't. You continued being friends ignoring what happened, even though it took you months to heal and your girl friends wiping your tears away. It took even longer to build your confidence to be able to open up to someone again. Bitter taste still in your mouth.
"I regret it so much, you don't even know." his words are full of pain.
"You are right. I don't know." you want to hurt him with your words, but you give up, you still love him, but not in the same way. You sigh. "There wasn't anyone looking for him, was there?"
"No, Chris actually needed help. But it wasn't that urgent, he would have figured it out on his own." He moves to sit closer to you, putting his hand on your knee.
"Joost..." you lean away from his touch, avoiding his eyes.
"I like you." he leans to try to catch your eyes again. "I like you and I'm sorry it took me so long to realise."
"No." you turn to look at him, your voice raising. "No, you don't get to do this. You know how hard it has been seeing you with different girls all these years?"
"I was so stupid" he sighs and you sit in silence for a few moments. "I was looking for you in every one of them." he turns to look you, his knuckles brush your cheek softly.
"I was right there, Joost." you close your eyes. "You didn't have to look far." Tears threaten to spill from your eyes, you think of everything you could have had together, how different it all could have been, if only he made an effort to see you.
"I am so sorry, liefje." he leans closer to you, his lips a breath away from yours. You don't lean away from him this time.
"Can I kiss you?" his voice is barely above a whisper.
You nod and he closes the distance between you. His lips are soft on yours, his hand warm on your cheek. You kiss him back and hear a sigh of relief from him. It is not rushed like that night, both of you not sure, but he deepens the kiss, his head spinning at the thought that he finally has you. He is holding your jaw so tender lips moving against yours, he wants more, wants himself all over you, but doesn't want to push his luck, doesn't want to scare you away.
He starts to kiss your neck, holding you close to his chest. He can smell your boyfriend's cologne lingering on your skin, he groans while placing open mouth wet kisses along your skin. Gripping your waist, he makes a move to put you on his lap. You let him. He hates that he waited so long to finally do this, that he was scared and blind towards his feelings, but maybe he has a chance now.
"Joost." you try to catch your breath. "Joost, wait." you push at his shoulders. He stops, looking up at you with his big blue eyes. "We shouldn't be doing this." you move from his lap, his hand trailing from your waist to your thigh. You take both of his hands in yours.
He knows what is coming next, his head falling on your shoulder. You brush his hair on the back of his head softly.
"We are better as friends." you tell him. You hear let out a chuckle into your neck.
You pull him to face you, holding his face on each side, "I would have let you do anything you wanted back then, you know." you whisper. He closes his eyes and puts his forehead against yours, the pain of realising what could have been too much to bear. "But that time is long gone."
"Schat..." he can't find the right words, maybe there aren't any. Maybe vocabulary hasn't progressed to fix whatever this situation is.
"I really do love him." you move to sit further away on the bed. You wish it didn't hurt that much to leave him here, but it's better for the both of you.
You find your boyfriend downstairs on a couch, enthusiastically telling a story to your group of friends. You touch his shoulder and sit down next to him, a smile spreading across his face as soon as he sees you. He places a kiss on your lips "There you are."
"Missed me?" you tease him, your face still close to his.
"Yeah. Always." he kisses you again.
"Get a room you two." your friend groans in a joking manner.
"We tried!" your boyfriend says laughing. You fall back into the conversation again.
"Jesus.. Slow down, dude." someone calls out from the kitchen. You turn around to see Joost drinking a second shot. He slams down the glass, and heads towards the balcony, pulling out a packet of cigarettes and a lighter from his back pocket.
"What's up with him?" your boyfriend asks pointing in Joost's direction. You shrug your shoulders.
"I'll go for a smoke too, to check on him." he says. "Wanna join?"
"No, I'm okay." you give him a weak smile and watch him open the balcony door.
After a long while, your boyfriend finally comes back joining you on the couch, smelling like smoke.
"How did it go?" you ask.
"Fine, Joost just kept saying how lucky I am. I should treasure you." he puts an arm around your shoulders, smell of cigarettes enveloping you.
"Well, you should." you laugh, but your heart aches.
It is around 3 am, you feel way too drunk, more than you planned to be today. But time has flown by, you caught up with all your friends at the party, having a drink with each different group, mingling with everyone.
"Should we go home?" you ask your boyfriend.
"Yeah. I am knackered." his head falls dramatically to your shoulder.
As you leave, you see Joost going upstairs, a pretty girl by his side.
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— SÃO PAULO
daniela avanzini (katseye) x fem!reader
summary: going to a rave in the middle of the summer wasn't exactly on your to-do list. but when your best friend dani offers to take you to one, you have a hard time saying no
warnings/tags: language, nsfw content, rave setting, drug usage (acid & molly), switch!daniela, switch!reader, semi-public sex(bathroom), oral, fingering, praise
wc: 2,5 k
now playing: são paulo by the weeknd & anitta
minors do not interact
this is pure fiction for fun, do not come at me 🫵 but it is accurate descriptions of the drugs so pls don't do drugs cause i wrote this, i aint responsible for what u do🙏
for the past week, you had been dealing with your best friend, daniela’s, attempts at trying to get you to go out to a party. well, not exactly a party, but a rave. you have no idea how she found out about this, but you didn't care at the same time. you didn't bother asking how she found out that there was a rave on saturday night, knowing she would counter it by saying “so you're interested?”
so here you are now, sitting in your car in front of the big warehouse, mentally preparing yourself. unfortunately, you ended up giving in to dani’s consistently annoying manner of asking you every day if you were going to go. you couldn't lie and say these environments weren't your thing, because they really weren't. you only came along because you wanted to make sure dani would be okay. but, you didn't say that. with a sigh, you turn off your car and get out, walking up to the door and pushing it open. you're immediately met with bright strobing lights and booming loud music, and your nose scrunches up in discomfort at the sight. this was going to be a long night.
you swerve through the sweaty bodies, thankful you were wearing a short crop top and shorts with how hot it was already growing in there. your eyes wander around the place, trying to find daniela when you suddenly feel arms wrap around you, causing you to jump.
“calm down, ‘ts just me,”
you can barely hear her voice over the music, but you know it's daniela by the way her arms subtly curl around you and pull you closer to her. her words are slurring, and you can smell the alcohol on her.
“‘m glad you came,” she murmurs into your ear.
“how drunk are you, dani?” you question, trying to ignore her words, but not being able to meet her glossed over eyes.
“only a little,” she answers, but she’s swaying from side to side, giving a different answer. “c’mon, you need to have some fun, yn,” she pouts at you. “you want something?”
“excuse me?” your eyebrow arches, looking at her now. “dani, i’m not going to drink-”
“hold your tongue out.”
“what?” you look at her with even more confusion. “dani-” you glance down at what she's holding in her hand, two small pills and two tiny pieces of paper. “oh my god, what else are you on right now?” you hiss out, almost angry.
“it's just half a tab of acid and the smallest dose of molly possible,” daniela ignores your question about her, telling you what's in her hand. “everyone here is on this shit, you’ll be okay, trust me. ‘s long as you stay with me. ‘m taking it too.”
your first thoughts are being angry at the fact she was obviously on what “everyone” was on, but the way she's talking to you, saying that you’ll be fine as long as you're with her, the anger fades away. “okay, fine,” you sigh.
dani smiles at you, taking the pill from her hand and handing it over to you. you take it from her and quickly swallow it before she holds the paper near you.
“hold your tongue out,” she tells you. “it's gonna taste weird, but keep it in your mouth for as long as you can, then swallow it. you’ll feel it within the hour.”
you comply, holding your tongue out and letting her place the small paper on it. you aren't really listening to what she's saying, too busy trying not to stare at her, your heart racing at the sight of her. you feel the paper touch your tongue as she pulls her hand away, closing your mouth by your jaw, her thumb grazing over your lips.
“let's have some fun, yeah?” she grins at you, quickly taking both the pill and tab for herself.
all you can do is nod your head, not trusting your voice to respond. she grabs your hand and pulls you through the bodies, stopping in the middle of the warehouse and smiling at you.
“you look really good,” she tells you, her eyes shamelessly eyeing you up and down.
your cheeks grow hot at her gaze on you, averting your eyes from hers. she grabs both your hands, starting to sway around which causes you to do it also, and you're doing your best to not feel like you're gonna panic within the next hour when it kicks in. you know dani has done these things before, seeing as you've had to help her the morning after when she would call you in the early hours saying she was having a bad trip and needed someone. one too many times have you drove over to where she was to pick her up and bring her back to your apartment with her almost nonverbal as she stares wide eyed at every light she sees. yet, here you were, not being the one helping her, but doing it with her. you trust her more than anyone, and you know she wouldn't give you anything that could possibly hurt you, which is enough for you to let your anxieties fade away.
within a few minutes you find yourself enjoying this. the edm music isn't terrible, and the colorful lights distract you from the crowded environment that you're in. daniela’s eyes haven't left you for one second, and she's asking you every now and then if you're okay, which you just nod, smiling and continuing to dance.
time flies by quickly, and you can start feeling the weird effects of what you assume is the drugs you were given. your body feels hot, and the lights feel 10x brighter than they were earlier, almost blinding you as you sway around. your back is facing daniela, who is eyeing you with hungry eyes while watching you let go and finally enjoy yourself. she can hardly think with the mixture of alcohol and drugs in her, but all she knows is that she wants you. she's known it for a while now, but didn't want to fuck anything up with you and lose you. she's surprised she hasn't accidentally blurted it out yet on the many times you've taken care of her while she was high.
her arms snake around your waist from behind, pulling you so close that you're pressed against her. she stares at you as you sway to the hyper music, your eyes closed relishing in the feeling of everything. she wants to kiss you so badly, her eyes flickering to your lips every other second when you suddenly turn your head and open your eyes to look at her.
you smile at her, your arm hooking around her neck, hand grasping her nape as you pull her in to kiss you. dani’s eyes go wide when you kiss her, but she instantly kisses back, her arms tightening around you. your lips feel soft against hers, and she can taste the lipgloss you put on before arriving. you practically melt into the kiss, moaning softly when she manages to pull you even closer. all you can think about is how good her lips feel pressing on yours, and you're desperate for more. you part from the kiss, panting as you rest your forehead on hers, staring into her eyes.
daniela can barely process what's happening before she realizes you’ve dragged her into the dimly lit bathroom. you close the stall door and push her against it, leaning in and kissing her deeply. she can't stop the little noise that comes from her throat as you do so, a bit embarrassed by her own reaction with her cheeks flushing bright red. she doesn't know what to do, her hands shaking before finding your waist and grabbing you to hopefully ground herself some bit. your hands trail up and down her body, fingers grazing against her skin under the shirt she was wearing, your touch feeling like a burning sensation with the mix of the drugs.
dani gasps into the kiss, her eyes closing when she feels your hand dip into her jeans and start circling her clit with two fingers, gripping your waist tighter. her head leans back and hits the door with a quiet thud when you pull away from the kiss, her mouth falling open as quiet whimpers come from her.
“f-fuck, yn,” she whines your name. “more, please,”
you don't respond, instead taking your hand out of her jeans and unbuttoning them, tugging them down her legs onto the floor. you drop to your knees, pushing her legs apart with your face inches away from her dripping core. you stare up at her as you lick up her folds, hearing her gasp and grab your hair. your hands hold her thighs as you slowly push your tongue inside of her and quickly start thrusting in and out of her, moaning at the taste.
“o-oh my god,” daniela moans, pushing your head further into her. she whines loudly when you switch to suck on her throbbing clit, tugging on your hair. “keep d-doing that- f-fuck!”
you move one of your hands from her legs, lining two fingers up to her entrance before slipping them into her, causing a loud moan to come from her at the action. her hips start rocking against your fingers as you build a quick pace, long whines and moans falling past her lips as her head leans back against the door. your eyes remain looking up at her, watching the way her face contorts with every movement you make, her eyebrows scrunched together and her eyes squeezed closed.
dani can barely think about anything at this point, except the fact that it feels so good with you finally touching her like this. she’d been craving it for so long, and it was almost overwhelming with the amount of pleasure she was feeling. her chest heaves up and down, breathing heavily as she feels the knot building in the pit of her stomach while grinding against your hand. she isn't even trying to be quiet, her moans echoing in the room without any care. it was feeling too good for her to be quiet, her noises becoming more whiny as she feels herself growing closer to the edge. “fuck, you're gonna make me cum!” she whines. “don-don’t stop- shit- please,”
you don't say anything, speeding up your fingers and curling them inside her leading her to let out more higher pitched moans at the feeling of you hitting her g-spot. she finally opens her eyes and looks down at you, whimpering at the dark look in your eyes as you watch her come undone before you. her eyes lock with yours, and you curl your fingers again, making her let out a long whine as her eyes roll to the back of her head, cumming on your fingers.
you slow your fingers to a stop, leaving little licks on her clit before standing up again. you bring your fingers to her lips, which she parts instantly as you put them in her mouth. she moans around your fingers at the taste of herself, gagging lightly when you prod them further into her mouth, her hand grabbing your wrist. you pull them out of her mouth, a string of saliva connecting when she suddenly spins you around and presses you against the door, kissing you roughly. you let out a noise of surprise at the sudden action, kissing back as you feel her hands roam up and down your body.
dani’s hands move under your shirt, fondling one of your tits and smiling at the moan you let out into the kiss. she parts from the kiss, panting through her words. “you're s’ fucking hot,” she mumbles. “be mine, please,” her voice almost sounds pleading as she says this. “please, i’ve been wanting you for s’ long. just-”
your hands cup her face, causing her to stop talking as you smile at her. “of course, dani,” you reply. “i’m all yours.”
she smiles back at you, kissing you again as her hand trails down your body to under the waistband of the shorts you were wearing. she dips her hand in, pushing your panties to the side and dragging her fingers up and down your wet folds, collecting your wetness on them. “you're so wet,” she murmurs against your lips. without another word, she slides two fingers in you, your walls swallowing around them.
a moan escapes your lips at the feeling, your arms wrapping around her neck and pulling her close to you. parting from the kiss, you put your face in the crook of her neck, moaning into her skin as your hips subconsciously roll against her hand. “fuck, d-dani,” you whimper pathetically.
“keep makin’ those noises, you sound s’ pretty, mi amor,” daniela mumbles into your ear, thrusting her fingers in you at a steady pace.
you can't help but whine at her words, clenching around her fingers at the petname she calls you. she slips a third finger in you, stretching you out as you bite down on her neck while moaning. “oh m-my god, dani,”
dani hisses quietly when you bite into her neck, but doesn't stop or even slow down her fingers one bit, her unoccupied hand around your waist holding you against her. she smiles at the way you moan her name, and she wants to hear it more. she needs to hear it more. she didn't think you’d sound this pretty while she makes you feel like you were on cloud nine. “you're so tight around my fingers, fuck,” she breathes out. “mi hermosa niña,” she mumbles affectionately.
you feel like your head is spinning with the mix of everything you’re feeling. her body feels hot pressed against yours, her touch electrifying as she draws circles on your lower back, her affectionate voice as she talks, her long fingers curling their way inside of you as your mouth is agape with loud noises coming from you. you can't think anymore, the only thing on your mind being how good you’re feeling at the moment. you know someone could come in at any moment, and dani knows it too, which is why she speeds up the pace of her fingers, leaving you whining loudly into her neck. “f-fuck, ‘m gonna cum!”
hearing your whine, daniela curls her fingers in you again, hitting your g-spot with you rocking your hips with more desperation. “cum for me, mi buena niña,” she whispers into your ear, using her thumb to rub your clit quickly.
your eyes squeeze shut as a scream-like moan leaves your mouth when you cum on her fingers, clenching around her tightly and pulling on her hair. you whimper quietly as she pulls her fingers out of you slowly, not moving your head from her neck as you pant heavily.
“are you okay?” dani asks you softly, glancing down at you.
“yeah,” you answer in a mumble. “can we go home?”
“yeah,” she nods. “i’ll get us an uber or something. i’ll pick up your car here tomorrow.”
“okay,” you say quietly. “i love you,” you whisper.
“i love you too,” daniela replies in a second. “let's get out of here, yeah?”
“yeah.”
#katseye x reader#katseye imagines#katseye scenarios#daniela avanzini x reader#daniela x reader#daniela imagine#daniela scenarios#nsfw.
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THE BOY NEXT DOOR
PAIRING: ENHYPEN's Park Jongseong x M!Reader
GENRE: Smut, Fluff, Angst
WARNING: i guess some intense smutty action ✨, not proof read
SUMMARY: Park Jongseong. The name is known widely as the infamous fuckboy of the 4th floor in your apartment building. He insisted he shares a room with you for the night as he is being stalked. What's the worst that could happen?
Another night where you had your headphones on for a couple of hours now, knowing that your nextdoor neighbor was at it, again. Fucking horny boys and girls in his apartment room. In fact, it seemed to happen too frequently that you pretty much caught onto his schedule when he would start having his fun that you even had your alarm for it on just in case you forget about all of it.
Damn, Park Jongseong was one horny guy.
After that, he would throw them out of his room and leave them there almost naked, giving zero shits whether they would get fucked again on their way back home. Besides, it was just a one time thing. Practically, fuck and go. No strings attached. What a heartless guy, I must say. After taking advantage of their heart, he just leaves them as though they were just toys for him to play with.
But, of course, those were only the stories you heard. You knew Jongseong more than anyone can think.
Your eyes travelled its way up to the digital clock you owned above your closet after staring at your phone, scrolling through your feed to pass time. You saw that it was already half past six in the evening and that's usually the time when Jongseong would always finish.
You wanted to make sure first that he was actually done, pulling on one side of your headphones. When you thought it was finally quiet, you slowly took it off and sighed to yourself. "Finally."
You got off your bed to move to the mini fridge you have where you stored all your bottled water, since you loved drinking cold water rather than lukewarm. Soon, there was a knock on your door which got you feeling confused since you weren't really expecting any visitor.
You heard another knock bringing you to your front door to open the door for the person outside of your room. "Who is..." You trailed off when you saw your next door neighbor standing in front of you. "Jongseong?" You heard a loud bark from beside him, later noticing his pet dog that made you coo at how the cute creature looked like.
She was wearing a pair of sunglasses which you knew Jongseong had put on her himself while she wore a very cute shirt with the tag 'I'M THE BEST DOG' written on the back of it. You kneeled down to match the height of it and started to pet her, Charlotte, as you remembered it, wagging her tail happily.
"Y/N, can you do me a favor?" You heard the taller male speak out, you looked up at him with a smile. Jongseong looked like he was hesitating to say what he had in his mind to you, judging by the way he would stumble through his words or how he would open his mouth to say something only to shut them close and repeat.
Without looking at him you give him a soft laugh, all the while giving Charlotte the best belly rub who was now lying on her back. "Speak up, Park," you said, with Jongseong hesitating for the nth time. You paused for a moment facing up towards the other male, your head tilted over to the side a little. "I can't read minds, you know," You joked in an attempt to lessen what Jongseong is feeling.
Jongseong sighed, blushing due to his embarrassment. Your words were all that he needed, pushing him to tell you the tiny favor he would like to ask of you. "Well, you see. It's er... can I and Charlotte crash at your place for the night?" Jongseong stuttered a little, trying to compromise, thinking of the right words to make it seem less inappropriate. "It's very important and I promise I won't do anything you don't want me to do," he quickly added.
You rolled your eyes at him, then standing back up knowing just how it had come to this. "Let me guess. Another stalker?" You asked him in a teasing manner, Jongseong immediately shaking his head in denial. You raised him a brow while crossing your arms.
Jongseong was still pressed on denying it, but the look on your face made him do otherwise. He could only sigh in defeat and hang his head low whilst nodding his head looking like a dejected dog, his shoulders slumped down. You gave him a pat on top of his head, practically on top of your toes.
You opened the door for him to enter, gesturing for him to get inside. "Come on in," you welcomed the male into your place, the blonde male replying with a muttered 'thank you' and a smile. Once he's settled inside, you close the door behind you. "Just don't use my apartment room as your new strip club."
Jongseong quickly snapped his head toward you and shook his head. "I promise you none of that will happen," Jongseong reassured you, while you took something out of your dresser's drawer. He hears a soft laugh from you, the taller male realizing that you were just teasing him, making him frown.
"I know. I trust you," you told him before you threw to him a spare key that you kept with you in case you lost the one you're currently using. You popped a loli into your mouth and sucked down the flavor of the sweets. "So, how'd you get in this situation? Again?" You asked him, walking towards your bed and sat on top of it.
Jongseong contemplates, before he looks back at you and your eyes stared back at him with full anticipation. He lets out a sigh. "Well, you see. Tonight, isn't that normal night," he answered, but you didn't completely understand what he meant to which you just stayed silent for, as a signal for the male to continue. "Believe it or not, I didn't bring anyone today because I'm having a test coming up tomorrow," he continued.
"That... still doesn't explain to me why you're getting stalked," you subtly persuade the male to tell you the leading cause of the unnecessary attention, but it didn't have to take any of that since Jongseong is willing to tell you everything. I mean, EVERYTHING.
He laughs softly at how impatient you are. "Just wait and listen," he mocks you in the most polite way possible, afraid that your attitude is brushing onto him. Though you don't meet often, you're the one who practically saves him from your lousy neighbors. So, it's starting to kinda reflect onto him.
You raised your arms and let the male do the speaking. "I asked to be recommended a tutor and found out one of the guys who applied is actually one of my past side flings. The same guy I told you about. The one who endlessly obsessed over me," Jongseong pointed out and you thought for a moment before you snapped your finger and points at Jongseong, your mouth agape in shock. "Yeap, yeah, exactly. I was shocked as well that he found any of my socials. It still got me thinking how he did it." Jongseong seeped air through his teeth, cocking his head to the side.
You got up from where you're sat and patted the male's back. "I may not be able to do anything about.. this. But, you'll be safe here inside," you stated out and went to pick up your towel from the rack to take a shower. "I'll only take a couple of minutes. I better not catch you peeking, Park,"
"Oh, god. Please." Jongseong scoffs at your cocky attitude, then he hears laughter from you before the door to your bathroom is shut closed. As soon as you got hidden inside of your bathroom, Jongseong hears the light taps of Charlotte's paw on the floor approaching him. She had something in here mouth. "Charlotte, don't go snooping around someone else's stuff," Jongseong gently told his pet dog who threw the item across the floor and let out a bark.
Jongseong looks at it confused. "What's this?" The male picks it up and draws it near to him. It looked like a pendant. Only it wasn't. He noticed the small crack around it, probably an opening and ran his finger over it, before it slowly opens and a music plays.
'Dear, don't fret. You are wonderful.'
It was a small holographic message. It looked too advanced, technologically speaking. Who could have made this? It's... brilliant. It feels like a memory locked in a device to help you remember. "This is... incredible. Don't you think so, too, Charlotte?" The female dog barks in reply and pants happily with her tongue out.
After a few more minutes, you stepped out of the bathroom with a fur robe on while you dried your hair with a towel. You catch the male staring, or admiring rather, at something and had a huge smile on his face. He looked very fascinated. "Whatcha got there, Jay?" The male didn't reply and continued to stare at the item. You chuckled.
You make your way towards him and only then that Jongseong is able to acknowledge your presence. "Oh, you're done? Sorry, I sorta got distracted by this. Whatever this is," Jongseong told you, the smile still etched onto his face. "It's so amazing," Jongseong makes a comment and your face splits into a smile.
You sat on the nearest chair beside the taller male and spoke up. "My dad made it for me," you shared to the male, whose mouth turned an 'o' shape in shock, turning his head to you. "He created it so I'd never feel homesick, but it only made it worse." You let out a light laugh, head hanging a little low, unable to look at Jongseong who found sympathy in you.
"You have a really great father, Y/N," Jongseong said with a soft smile. You lift your face up to look at the other male and decided that that was enough sentiment for the day and chose to tease Jongseong, again.
"And who told you to go snooping around my room?" You smirked, making Jongseong widen his eyes and point at his pet dog, who whimpers and lay flat on the floor while she covered her face with her paws, which you found incredibly cute as though she's able to understand your language. At this point, maybe she does. "I'm just kidding," you stood up from where you are sat and moved to your closet. You are about to get changed.
On instinct, Jongseong turns on his back and puts the pendant down on your table, but there is one thing he couldn't get off his mind. "I'm sorry. Y/N, just minutes ago, did you just call me 'J'?" Jongseong scrunched his face, not able to trust his ears. He might have misheard things.
As you threw on what you could see as cute in your closet, you replied with a hum. "Yeah, sorry. I should have thought first before I spoke. Does it bother you?" Your brows furrowed. You really had the the idea that you and Jongseong are already that close to be calling each other by nicknames.
Jongseong shakes his head in reply, but guessed you couldn't see. "No, not a even a bit," he answered. "It's just new to me, but I guess I'll get used to it eventually," he continued, before he heard the closet door close and the bed creak on your weight which could have only meant that you're done. "Are you finished?" He questioned for safety measures.
"Yeah. You can turn around now," you replied. Jongseong cautiously turns around, making you raise a brow. "So, you're scared of seeing a clothed body than a nude?" You scoffed.
"No, no. It's not like that. I mean you're a very close friend. And if I were to see you naked accidentally that would mean an awkward atmosphere around us," Jongseong full on explained and hearing that the male considered you as a close friend made your heart swell in happiness.
You propped yourself down on your bed with your hands. "Point taken," you told Jongseong. "By the way, if you didn't bring anyone with you tonight, then what was the noise in your room all about?" Your curiosity got the best of you as you looked over at Jongseong who had his lips pushed into a pout and a blush on his face.
Oh, it's those kind of days.
You breathed in air through your nose and tapped your feet on the floor. "Well, Jay. I have to stop by the convenience store. Anything you want?" You stood up to take out your wallet and fix a few things where your other important items are hidden.
The taller male lit up at the mention of having to go outside. "Can I come with you?" Jongseong asked, a little too excited. Almost like a kid who wants to go only for the car ride.
You turn to him, a big smile riding on his lips, before you return to securing your things. "Uhm, are you sure? Wouldn't that be a little dangerous?" You started to make your way to the clothing rack where some of your coats are hanging. "Considering you have a stalker that's on the loose," you stated to which made Jongseong knit his brows.
"Damn those pricks," Jongseong whispered under his breathe, still loud enough for you to hear though. He tried looking for excuses, but only found the shorts you are wearing. "And how about you? You can't possibly be going out with just that," he pointed out.
You looked down and faced him with an 'are you kidding me' look. "What about it? They're loose jersey shorts. You should be more concerned about yourself. You could catch a cold with what you're wearing. A tank top and thigh length shorts." you told him yet Jongseong was already on his way out with Charlotte. "What is up with this guy?"
In the end, even when you felt skeptical with other male, you still let him sleep over for the night. When you arrived, the male kept on insisting he stayed. The poor male looked shaken up by something you can't determine, so here you are in one bed with Jongseong who is barely in anything, but a boxer after you tried to resist him from sleeping on the floor and it made falling asleep hard for you.
It ain't helping either that you used to have a big fat crush on the older male when you first arrived here in this building. Keyword: USED. After you realized he had a fuckboy tendency and it just didn't seem quite right to you.
You let out a sigh and your eyes went over to the time on your clock. '2:31 A.M', it reads and all you could do is groan silently, your eyes clenched shut at your distress.
You opened the bedside lamp to at least illuminate a small portion of the room as you rubbed your stinging eyes. You feel so tired, but your thoughts are circling around your head endlessly like your own brain is trying to torture you, but you have no choice. You brought yourself onto this and now you have to pay.
You looked over to the other side to see Jongseong sleeping so soundly. Like a baby, safe in his mother's arms. At the sight, a small smile made its way up to your lips. "At least someone's able to get some sleep," you muttered out with a scoff, before you adjusted the blanket, so it covered him comfortably. He might be cold already considering that you put the temperature down a few degrees down, yet he still had the strength to get almost completely naked.
You watched him snore lightly. He looks so peaceful. Has he always looked this good in this light? You thought to yourself, as your gentle grin stayed on your face.
You gave a sigh and moved a few hair strands that got in the way of his face, but were immediately stopped by the older male who took ahold of your wrist which made you flinch. His grip was gentle.
You quickly averted your attention to his eyes which you felt started to bore holes into your skin. His face is dimly lit by the lamp on your table, but he still looked so ethereal. "Y/N, what are you doing to me?" His sudden question made you look at him confused.
He sat up from the bed, all the while the hem of the blanket falling to his waist which gave you a just right view of his structured abdominal muscles. "I... I don't understand," you replied to him, Jongseong sighing audibly loudly.
"Ever since you arrived in this building, nothing ever went well for me," Jongseong continued, that got you taken aback as you pulled your arm away from the male whose eyes lingered onto you.
You raised him a brow, feeling literally offended at what he had just said. After you let him spend the night at your apartment, this is the thanks you get from him? "Excuse me? Be at least grateful—"
"Let me finish," Jongseong cuts you off mid-sentence with a chuckle and you folded your arms on your chest and you gave him the stage, letting him hit the microphone with whatever he had to say. "See, this will sound weird, just giving you a heads up, but I just... I can't get it up," he stated.
You scoffed at him in disbelief. "And that's supposed to be MY fault?" For your entire existence you've never had a person blame you for their erectile dysfunction and hearing this from Jongseong—the male you only considered your friend right now—is blaming you that he couldn't get an erection because of you. That's just completely fucked up.
"Yes," Jongseong replied, rather more solemn than bluntly. Your jaw dropped at his reply and your instinct was to just kick him out of your apartment, but he looked like he had a lot of things going on inside his head. Before you could even reply, Jongseong faces you with a bittersweet smile riding on his lips. "Because I like you, Y/N. I've liked you since... I don't know, before we even started talking which was like almost two years ago. And I couldn't get you out of my head. I didn't want to make you feel sexualized or in any form, sexualize your image. I can't do that to you, Y/N," he said, ending with a tone that told you he is truly genuine and truly cared about you.
You could only look at him with furrowed brows, your mouth opened, but unable to make a noise. You were shocked, to say the least. In the middle of the night, all because Jongseong had a problem with his hormones, confessed to you out of nowhere. Who wouldn't be so surprised with that sudden news?
"Jay, I... uhm," you let out, hesitant.
"It's fine, Y/N. You really don't have to say anything if you don't feel like it. Besides, hearing a reply without much of any—" he is stopped the same way, but you've put a finger on his lips to make him go quiet.
"I don't need time to think about everything, Jay," you replied, a small smile on your lips. You trailed off, trying to find out how to start, but you thought giving it to him directly would be the best way. "I like you, Park Jongseong. Less than you think, though. Look, I don't know when it actually started, but it gave me the ick that you're actually a call boy, but I thought I would have done the same for a check," you laughed lightly.
"Uh, thanks?" Jongseong let out, one brow raised upward.
You sighed. "What I'm trying to say is that, I like you, Jay. I love your personality, I love the way you care for me, your dog, your family, or the way you'd always update me about—" Jongseong gave you no chance to finish what you're saying and spare you no time to adjust as he grabbed the back of your neck and planted his lips onto yours.
You were quick to process as you melted into the kiss, your eyes shutting closed while your hands instinctively found themselves in his soft bleached locks, your fingers entangled within it. Your heads and lips perfectly sync with each other, untamed thoughts circling around your head like a broken record. They were unruly, but it somehow made your heart feel full.
It's like on a winter night and you start the fireplace to warm the room. You don't even remember any sense dawning over you as you just let yourself in to the spur of the moment as though your whole life depended on it.
A few minutes in and Jongseong decides to deepen the kiss, as he slides one hand under the pit of your leg, rising ever so slowly as he lifted the bottom hem of the jersey shorts you wore, a soft moan moving past your mouth, the older male swallowing the sweet sound. You feel one side of his lips curve into a smirk, satisfied with the reaction he received from you.
You were probably gonna regret this later on; being treated like one of Jongseong's clients, but you wanted his touch. You NEEDED his touch. You craved everything he can give. You yearned for his warmth. You need him, in general.
It's like he's some kind of drug that made you suddenly feel addicted with one taste and you know for a fact that you'll never be able to get out of this sensation.
Jongseong nipped at your bottom lip, asking for permission. As a reply to his request, you slowly parted your lips for access. With not much time to lose, Jongseong (gently) delved into the depths of your wet cavern, cupping your cheeks as he started to search for your tongue.
Thinking the placement was uncomfortable, the blonde male repositions himself, so he's fully facing you, all the while never breaking contact. Your tongues danced together, both in different pace, but found a way to synchronize with each other, as though harmonizing.
Whilst your tongues played with each other, your hands went down to feel his biceps, which you found attractive with all the muscles surrounding it. Your fingers smoothly glided over the protruding skin of his arms, still too high on the kiss to even focus somewhere else other than the shape of his lips. It's like they were carved to fit yours perfectly.
For a breather, Jongseong was the first to pull away, breaking the kiss as you start to already miss the intimacy. Hearing a whimper unconsciously leave your throat, Jongseong chuckles. "In a second, angel. We still have to breathe, you know," he smirks. Right now, his sight of you just raised the gauge of his sex drive higher.
As everything had started to heat things up inside the room already, you could no longer wait. You're feeling hot and the way he looked so sexy just made you want him to just take you; make him claim you as his only possession.
While Jongseong tried to find a better position, you sunk down to become face to face with his clothed crotch. This went unnoticed by the male, not until he felt a shiver run down his spine when he felt your finger om the waistband of his boxers that he looks at you, while your eyes were already clouded with lust.
"Y/N, what are you—ah," he moans at the contact of his clothed member on your open palm, teasing him before you pulled down the only item that restricted you from its full glory, his cock coming in contact with the cold air of your room. "Shit.." The male let out when he felt your tongue line the underside of his cock.
"A-ah, Y/N. I didn't—ah," Jongseong sighed at the pure pleasure you were giving him. Out of pure desperation to aatosfy the taller male, you fit the tip of his thick rod in your mouth, which earned you a hiss from the blonde as a hand found its way on top of your hair. "Shit, Y/N, ah... stop teasing," He moaned, feeling your tongue swirl around his girth, the older male pushing his head back, feeling so much bliss.
Soon enough, your chest swelled with pride as you made a spur of the moment decision to take the whole male inside your mouth, while Jongseong hitched in place, an electrifying sensation running down his back. "FUCK!" He moaned out, unconsciously pulling at your hair.
You bobbed your head up and down, only then taking the few inches you could take inside your mouth (after a realization that he was too big to take whole) and jerked him off to compensate for it. Jongseong seeped air through his mouth, peering down at you only to see that your eyes was looking up at him as he had the perfect view of your lips perfectly curled around his cock.
He got more turned on by the sight of you and could no longer hold himself back anymore, raising his hands to hold onto the back of your head and forced his whole length inside your throat, which made you gag and choke, earning a satisfied whistle from Jongseong who chuckled and caressed your beautiful face. "I can see that you were trying, Y/N, but you weren't trying hard enough." The male smirked, then went on with his plan to assault your unaccustomed throat in a fast pace, tears forming in your eyes as they rolled themselves at the back of your head over the euphoria that Jongseong brought to you by constantly hitting the back of your throat.
"Shit, fuck," Jongseong cursed through gritted teeth, the vibrations of your moan only sending a satisfying sensation to his girthy dick, you knew immediately that he was feeling good. "So, you were waiting for this to happen all this time, huh?" He questioned you, not stopping with his erratic movements.
If you hadn't lost all your senses, you wouldn't have let yourself be treated like you're a thirsty slut, but the pleasure is unbearable and at any moment you felt like your mind will finally break.
Without thinking much about it, you nodded your head in reply and the smirk on Jongseong's face only grew wider. "Me too, babe," He said and continued on violating your mouth, resorting to a more inhuman speed and laughing darkly at how easily you submitted to him, liking the idea that if he ever felt pent he could easily just run to you and you'd just let him use you, but of course he wasn't a bad guy to take advantage of you. It's just an idea. An impossibly dream, if you must.
"Damn, angel. Didn't know your mouth could do so much wonder," Jongseong groaned, you holding onto his thighs for dear life, hoping your neck wouldn't break at how strong his thrusts were.
You knew how much Jongseong is capable of being rough with anyone, he literally goes down with any sex play—it's not eavesdropping, it's overhearing—but damn, you never knew him being this rough with you would be so fucking hot. Even having to experience it firsthand.
"Maybe we can do more than just this, Y/N. Weren't for us having to rest for our class tomorrow." It was nice of the male to think of your welfare, but it already reached this far and he'll let go with just a simple blowjob? You wished he's just joking.
Jongseong's pace went unbelievably animalistic, suddenly not caring about how you were now crying due to the pleasure, finding it fun how those tears stained your cheeks like they were the perfect decoration on your face, him abusing your throat with all the strength he had left until he started to convulse and buried his dick deep inside your throat and filled your mouth up with his cum, feeding you every last drop, not spilling anything as it ran down yoir throat.
He was a panting mess as he stared down at you, finding it adorable that you were so fucked up and was made a mess of by him.
He thrusts a few more time to ride out his high, before he caressed your cheeks softly, then pulling his now flaccid cock and puts a finger below your chin to lift your face up. "Not a single drop, darling. Open your mouth," He demanded of you, you complied as you opened your mouth with you tongue rolled out.
Jongseong, feeling satisfied, bent down to your height and kissed you on the forehead. "Well done, angel," he said, then fixed himself up and helped you up to your feet with a slight chuckle. "You're already weak to your knees? We still haven't even got to that part yet, Y/N," He teased you that immediately made you blush.
"Sh-shut up, Park," You told him, your voice a little hoarse, Jongseong being the reason why.
The next morning you woke up, with your eyes still feeling heavy and the memory of what happened im the middle of the night engraved in your head.
You soon realize that the bed was empty and the space beside you where Jongseong slept has now gone cold. It dawned over you like a bucket of cold water. "I should have known. I was just one of his clients," you mumbled to yourself.
"You're not a client, Y/N," a voice started from somewhere in the room, which startled you as you got up immediately and saw Jongseong by the window reading a book, in a bath robe.
Jongseong looks at you and you did as well. You were in different clothes. Did he get you changed? "I, uhm, I thought you left," you stumbled in your words. You didn't want to sound too desperate.
"I wouldn't. I would never," he replied, before he closes the book and approached you with I want to be your partner." Jongseong looks at you with his eyes full of sincerity and truthfulness. "If you're doubting my words, I'll prove to you by my actions. I will stop these vices," he stated out with determination in his voice.
"Jay... you weren't being stalked, were you?" You asked him which took the male aback. "You just wanted to spend time with me," you concluded that made him blush a deep red color. You found it cute at how he gets very flustered easily, before you threw your hands around him for a hug. "And I would have done the same if I were you," you said as the taller male, wrapped his arms around you to keep you close to him.
#male reader#x male reader#fanfiction#bxb#idol x male reader#bottom male reader#kpop#enhypen x male reader#kpop x male reader#enhypen jay x male reader#enhypen jay#enhypen park jongseong#enhypen park jongseong x male reader#jay x male reader smut#x male reader smut#male reader smut
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Again?
Warnings: mild swearing, fluff.
Pairings: Bucky Barnes X F!reader. Previously established relationship
Blurb: you lost your phone and Bucky helps you find it!
“Where is it? where the fuck did I put it?” you mutter to yourself as you look all over your house for your phone “he's gonna kill me!” Pillows were strewn all over the place along with blankets and books in the lounge room. The kitchen had draws half open and cupboard doors half closed. You were a mess, make up half applied hair not even done as you make your way to the bedroom which looked worse than the lounge room and kitchen combine. Clothes all over the floor, your previously made bed looked like 10 people tried to sleep in it and fought over the quilt.
What started this debacle? Well you and Bucky had a date and he told you he would pick you up but you can't remember what time he said. You were half way through getting ready when you second guessed yourself. Your sure he said 7pm but now maybe it's 6:30pm and it's currently 6:15pm. Growling at yourself you realised you can't answer the door looking the way you are. So you quickly finished up your makeup and put on your favourite black dress when you hear a deep voice call out “Doll? Is everything okay?”
“Uh um just a minute” you call out panicked coming out of your room hopping as you put your shoes on.
“What happened? Did someone break in?” Bucky asks concerned looking you over making sure you were okay.
“Um no, please don't be upset I lost my phone again” you say quietly red with embarrassment. You'd lost your phone so often he had threatened to attach an air tag to it or by you a flip phone to ring yourself from. He laughs “again, okay Doll did we retrace our steps?”
“Yes Bucky I did.. 4 times” you dead pan
“Okay, okay” he grins pulling out his own phone and calls yours while you both listen out for it. “It's in the kitchen” he says as you both move closer to the kitchen “Doll, either the fridge has started playing music or that's your ring tone”
You open the fridge and find your phone sitting in place of the cheese when realisation hits you. You got hungry while doing your make up and took your phone with you and accidentally put your phone in the fridge instead of the cheese which was still sitting on the bench. You sigh to yourself and grab your phone and put the cheese away
“How much time do we have before our reservation because I don't wanna leave the house looking like this” you sigh wrapping your arms around his waist
“We have about 30 minutes Doll, you do the lounge room I'll take the kitchen and we can do the bedroom together” he says softly kissing the top of your head and lets you go as he begins closing doors and drawers, while you put the pillows back on the couch and the blankets over the arm of the couch.
You both make your way to your bedroom and your grab all the clothes shoving them in the wardrobe with the shoes while Bucky begins straightening the bed “you ready to go Doll? He asks putting the last pillow in its place
“Yeah let me grab my bag” you say and walk behind the door to grab it “Buck I've lost my phone again” you sigh face palming
He laughs softly “okay I'll cancel the reservation and order take out” you sigh and sit on your bed taking your shoes off and slipping the clip out of your hair. He wraps his arms around you laughing softly “never change doll”
Authors note: Hi everyone I know been awhile since I've written. This story was inspired by me loosing the kitchen bench wipes and talking to a friend and realising I've lost my phone so many times and my fiance just wondering how every single time. My friend did actually lose her phone in the fridge so I thought that was funny! @fandomxo00
#Bucky Barnes divider#bucky barnes#marvel#marvel rp#sister lucifer’s dividers#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader#bucky fanfic#sebstanedit#sebastian stan
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Radiostatic Fic Recs Part 3!
Hello everyone! I'm back again with a third installment in fics that I believe are great reads! A quick reminder as always, read the tags and if you don't like something, just tab out! The previous parts can be found here. Part 1 | Part 2
Finished
Sound Effect!
This is a silly little crackfic by the beloved ohdeercoffee! It features proto Vox who has been cursed to be a silent film where all his speech is shown as title cards. This leads to a misunderstanding between him and Alastor, but everyone walks away pleased with the aftermath.
Wallow
This series is heartbreaking. It had me shedding real tears as I read it. Alastor and Vox reckoning with the aftermath of their falling out and the mistakes they made that have cost each other everything.
Oh, I'm gonna be wounded/Oh, you're gonna be my wound
Alastor spends an evening devouring Vox as he watches through his cameras. They end up talking about some things afterwards.
Questionable Attachment
Alastor goes to Vee Tower to mess with Vox because he's bored. They end up kissing and Alastor finds himself consumed with the thought of kissing Vox again.
a glass full of love
Alastor accidentally gets dosed with love potion and falls madly in love with Vox. Vox is milking it for everything he can get.
Playing the Victim
As always, I am a sucker for lykomancer's stories and this one is no different. Vox captures Alastor and implants various hypnotic codes in his psyche before fucking him.
Unsurpassable skills in espionage
Vox manages to collect dirt on the hotel that could ruin them, Alastor is tasked with retrieving said dirt because he's so well versed in subterfuge, and not, as Angel claims, because Vox wants to fuck him.
Two for the Show
This fic was so good! There's something about ohdeercoffee's smut that is just absolutely delectable. Alastor has a little game he plays each time he goes into rut. He goes to bars and flirts with sinners only to blue ball them the second they leave the bar. This time Alastor spots a peculiar looking sinner with a box for a head and decides he will be his next victim.
(Temporary) Truce
Alastor is going through heat after seven years away from Hell. Vox notices the signs and steps in to help.
The Trials and Tribulations of Alastor's Cursed Pussy
As you can imagine from the title, this series deals with Alastor going through estrus and the various points in their relationship that Vox has helped Alastor through it. This series is in turn sexy, funny, and heart wrenching.
Haven
This fic is so sad but so wonderful. Alastor is so desperately worried for his friend and it provides a wonderful characterization of his inner monologue. Vox pisses off another overlord and is kidnapped. Alastor searches the whole of Pentagram City to find him and bring him home.
Two Halves of a Whole Idiot
Alastor goes into heat and chases Vox down as part of a mating ritual. Vox is super into it. They end up fucking about it.
Man or Machine
Vox has just finished another surgical upgrade and Alastor becomes curious as to how much of Vox remains organic and how much has turned mechanical. He conducts his own investigation.
Thought Contagion
Vox works until he drops and Alastor finds it funny to keep a tally of all the silly places Vox has ended up passed out in. During this latest instance, Vox starts to dream and Alastor finds himself drawn to the fantasy displayed on his screen.
Epitaph
This fic is very sad, much hurt and no comfort. Alastor finally commits the inevitable and deals with the fall out of his own needs.
Shadow of Yourself
Another delectable smut piece by the beloved princeliest! Alastor lets slip that he and his shadow share sensation and Vox decides to bring that to the bedroom.
Coup de foudre
The hotel hosts a party to celebrate their win against the exorcists. Alastor meets Vox again and finds himself weak to the man's charms even after decades apart.
Meet Me at My Frequency
Starting after episode 2, Vox's actions push him and Alastor to actually reconcile with each other. The rest of the series follows the rest of canon with some small twists prompted by their rekindled relationship.
Even Exchange
So sad but it has a happy ending! A very nice fic for some good catharsis and exploring Vox's complicated feelings for Alastor. Heaven plans a larger attack and Alastor and Charlie meet with other overlords to secure their support. The Vees agree and join the fight. Vox sustains a major injury.
Video Fucked The Radio Star
Alastor comes to pick up Angel from the studio and Valentino bites him. Unfortunately for Alastor, Val's venom is a potent aphrodisiac. Vox offers to help him through it.
Floating, Where You Belong
This is a delightfully dark fic where Vox hypnotizes and mind breaks Alastor into his own personal sex kitten.
The New and Novel
Alastor grows curious about Vox's hypnotism and he asks Vox to use it on him while they have sex. The end results are very worth it.
Boredom Ruins Everything
Alastor feels particularly vulnerable after his fight with Adam and he worries that he might be overpowered and taken advantage of. This leads him to make a deal with Vox to ensure his own peace of mind. Mostly a smut series, but a very good smut series! Binturong Rose has an excellent grasp of the push-pull between these two and masterfully incorporates that in their sex life.
You'll Know
Alastor's first sexual encounter was deeply disappointing. So much so, that he's never attempted something like that again. After meeting and falling in love with Vox, he decides to give it another try and finds that perhaps sex isn't all bad after all.
Shadows and Light
This fic has been rewritten and this is its newest iteration! Vox brings home his latest film to watch with Alastor. Watching it together brings out some unexpected revelations.
So An Author & A Serial Killer Go On A Date
This one's super cute! Based on a well known tumblr prompt, Alastor and Vox meet because Alastor is a serial killer and Vox is a murder novelist and they have been searching similar things on the internet.
In Your Dreams, Old Pal
Vox has been dreaming of Alastor and himself together for a while. Alastor decides to take a peek and is disgusted to find the simpering dream version of him Vox has made. In a fit of rage, he eats his dream counterpart and accidentally seals his own fate. Now he has to play the part of himself every night in Vox's dreams.
Background Noise
A fluffy fic about Alastor's hooves and how cute Vox finds them!
Nothing Above the Knee
A smutty fic of Vox deeply appreciating Alastor's hooves!
Red Bow Tie
Alastor reminisces on the past and his current relationship with Vox. A bittersweet piece about what could have been and what still is.
golden rule, it's just for show!
An unfortunate incident at an overlord meeting turns all the overlords back to their human forms. Alastor finds himself mesmerized by the slight figure Vox cuts and resolves to make him his.
Brand me (so I'll have a reason to be mad)
This fic is super sexy. I really enjoyed the erotica and characterization of the two. Vox presents Alastor with a piece of jewelry with his brand on it. Alastor ridicules him for it, but does he really consider the piece as tacky as he claims?
Sinking Funds
Alastor discovers that Vox has given him the most exclusive credit card one can get in Hell and decides to take it for a spin to see how much Vox cares about Alastor spending his money.
You Want It Rough, You're Out Of Bounds
I will forever and always be a huge Mothball Milkshake fan. Any time they write radiostatic, I am running to read it. Here, Moth took a break from Signals to give us a lovely smutty fic. Alastor and Vox have finally started up a relationship of sorts. They've had sex several times but vox has never been able to make Alastor come. He's determined to change that tonight!
Wind Me Up and Break Me Down
Another fic by the wonderful Mothball Milkshake! (As I said, I am their number one fan lol) This is loosely connected to the above fic but can be read separately. Vox ties Alastor up and worships his body.
scatterbrain
This fic is sweet and hilarious. Alastor discovers that sleeping is technically optional in Hell and stops sleeping for several decades. Lilith steps in and forces him to sleep until he is fully rested.
The Merman
For my Vox merman lovers, come eat! Alastor has heard tale of these merfolk and has been working to capture one for study. He stumbles across Vox and he attempts to capture him. Vox is amused and decides to keep the pretty human that tried to capture him.
In Season
This fic is cute and funny! A little cracky but a good read! Vox and Alastor used to spend their autumn rut/heat together since both their sinner forms went into heat/rut at the same time. Even as enemies, they kept this arrangement. As Alastor goes into his first rut after his sabbatical, he fully expects Vox to join him like normal. However, Vox is not happy that he got left in the lurch for seven years and refuses to cave to his desires.
Research and Development
Velvette and Valentino are sick of Vox constantly obsessing over Alastor and order him to do something about it. He ends up creating a virtual reality so that he can finally fuck Alastor and maybe get it out of his system. However, the program seems to have other ideas.
when the flies fell
A modern day human AU wherein Alastor convinces Vox to help him summon a demon. This has worse consequences than either of them foresaw as they race to fix their mistake.
Unfinished
Harlem Sunset
Set after the events of episode 2. Alastor approaches Vox to propose scheduled brawls outside of the city. Vox decides to take him up on it and it sets in motion a chain of events that can't be stopped. Just a small note, none of the fight scenes are on camera, so to speak, in the fic. However, the developing relationship is sweet and I am enjoying it a lot!
My Body, Your Temple
This is a masterfully done human AU set in the 1930s. Vox comes down to New Orleans in an effort to poach New Orleans' very own Alastor Deveaux, Alastor finds him absolutely insufferable. They find themselves drawn into each other's orbit and find themselves tangled in an all consuming desire for one another.
Believe Me, (The Sun Always Shines on TV)
In a fit of rage, Valentino damages Vox's head so badly that he can't fix it himself, so he goes to the one person he knows can piece him back together. Doing so forces both Alastor and Vox to confront the ugly history between them.
Summer Wine
Charlie strikes a deal with Heaven to trial run redemption with a sinner of her choosing. By pure accident, Vox and Alastor are selected instead and must work together as they find themselves back on Earth in the modern day.
Perhaps it's Pedestrian
Okay so I normally have a rule that a fic has to have at least three chapters before I toss it up on the list because I always hate clicking on rec lists that are full of one chapter WIPS. However, this fic is so long and wonderfully written for the two chapters it does have that it deserves a spot so more people can go encourage the author with kudos and comments!
Vox and Val break up again and Vox goes to a bar to drink and find a one night stand. Alastor makes that much harder than it should be to do so.
Animal Natures
Another favorite by the dear lykomancer! This time it's a series. As the title suggests, Alastor goes into rut and Vox helps him through it. Unfortunately, Alastor likes it a little too much and now that's Vox's fault, somehow.
For the sake of research and understanding
Alastor is curious about why others seem so obsessed with sex, so he goes to his good pal Vox to ask him to explain to him. One thing leads to another, and Vox finds himself giving a practical demonstration.
An Unforgettable Debut | 1961
After several years of hard work, Vox is finally ready to launch his own studio and has thrown a huge party to celebrate. Unfortunately for him, someone has ordered a hit out on one of the Radio Demon's companions and he's been caught in the crossfire. Will he be able to make it to his party on time?
Modulation Missteps
I'm really enjoying this fic and the worldbuilding the author has put in to make a comprehensive narrative. This is a Human AU where Vox and Alastor were childhood best friends who separated. Years later, Vox forces a reconnect and they have to work through all the ugly emotions they've both been harboring for over a decade.
Now only dogs follow me (Is He Following?)
Several years ago, Vox was an incredible detective solving serial killer cases until he suffered a mental break and was fired. After finally getting his life back on track, all his progress is threatened as a new killer comes to town and the department needs him again. Luckily, he finds support in his old childhood friend, Alastor.
it's not murder, it's research and waste disposal
Okay so. This guy is dark and very gory. And I do mean that a lot. Please read the tags before diving into this fic, it is absolutely not for the faint of heart and it has even grossed me out a few times. That said, it is beautifully written and the relationship between Alastor and Vox is simply divine.
Vox moves to New Orleans and meets Alastor and immediately falls in love. Alastor wishes Vox would choke and die until he finds Vox attempting to dump a body in the bayou and suddenly Vox is so much more interesting.
@00sukisuki00 @15prime8 @19vv91 @3oddsocks69 @ach0ndrit3 @adeala3in1 @ali3npuppyy @alice-after-dark @alice-on-elm-street @almaquinzel @animefanboy48 @anon4usfickly @arleney @aroace-axolotl @aseplant @av0ryx22 @awasteofyourtime @ayoaloe @az13478809 @barblesgirl @beamie-24 @beloved-riverbank @bigsongtraveler @bookworm-blogs @borckschav @bratpfanne-of-doom @brayanneitor @bruhjoll @burrito-me-batman @bv-l7a @camillekarnage @carchee-sh @catgirl-catboy @celenepolaris @charmeecoffee @cheeseindeed @classystudentmiracleus @coins-that-never-land @cpyclopse @creatrajournal @scrumii @cryptidinprogress @d3ath4mybirthday @dancingafterdark @dancingthere @darkenthusiastearthquake @deaddeerdonoteat @dible-png @diequeeria @dragengyrr
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heyyy, can i ask for 80's Dave fingering reader under the table in a dinner please? Thanks!! <3
A/n: posting my drafts rn and then I will be trying to write more
Warnings: Smut, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), I don't know how to tag this so if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!
This was his first time meeting your parents, it was supposed to be perfect and it was stressing you out. Dave, of course, had the 'perfect' idea on how to help you relieve said stress.
You refused, you had a plan and you would stick to it, even if you were desperate for something to calm your mind and your plan meant refusing him.
Everything was going perfect. Close to dinner starting, before your parents arrived, Dave had backed off from his approach, letting you do what you felt you had to do and complying easily with your instructions.
When your parents got there he was pleasant with them, he knew they wouldn't like him because they didn't like, well, him. They didn't like his music, his persona, how he spoke. Really, they hated him, but they liked how he made you feel, even if they felt it was only temporary.
You'd made the perfect meal, with Dave's help of course -he went out and got groceries while you were cleaning and then cleaned up the mess you'd made while cooking, still thoughtful and helpful enough- and now you were seated with your parents in the dining room.
Despite what it seemed to you, Dave never let it go. You were stressed and it was always his job to help you when you were stressed or angry or feeling any sort of negative emotion, he was your boyfriend and that was one of his jobs as your boyfriend.
So, no, he never let it go. He set a table cloth on the table, an overly grand one that was definitely not needed for this dinner, however, his plans varied from yours.
It his everyone's lap so no one could see anything, especially not his hand. He knew your parents had noticed his hand on you, on your thigh, they didn't need to know he had two fingers buried knuckle deep inside you.
At first you'd tried to get him to stop, holding his hand in yours, guiding it back to your thigh or his own lap. However, as the conversation dragged on and your parents became more pushy about Dave and his career, asking questions they didn't need to be asking, degrading him subtly in so many words. Eventually, you just had to let it happen.
Dave was getting annoyed, so were you, and you'd been stressing the past week over this exact conversation.
You wore a dress, it wasn't hard for Dave to move your panties to the side. He moved slow, resting his arm on your thigh and using his wrist to keep his ministrations subtle and hidden from your parents, all while keeping up a polite smile with your dad across from him.
He'd curl his fingers, prodding that special spot and drawing noises up, threatening to leave you at any moment. He kept pulling and pushing his knuckles in and out of your hole, where there'd be the most stretch and chance to hear you.
You knew he loved hearing you, it's how he made it through tours where you couldn't come. He just needed to hear your sweet moans and he'd be done within minutes.
You wouldn't dare make a sound now, if you did you'd never be able to speak to your parents again, look at them again. You'd be disowned forever and a day.
Nevertheless, you could feel that burning ball building inside you, you couldn't ignore it and hoped it went away, not when Dave's fingers were working on you as they were.
The conversation was directed mostly towards Dave, your parents were using it as an opportunity to just get mad at him, politely of course.
But Dave... Dave, to put it nicely, was an asshole. He saw the effect he was having on you and needed to hear those sweet sounds he loved oh so much.
"We were actually planning on getting a dog, weren't we, sweetheart?" He asked sweetly, smiling tugging at his plump lips, those same lips you'd kissed a thousand times before, those lips you'd kill to have on you right this second.
Instead of jumping on him right then and there you gave a small nod with a smile to match.
"Go on," he continued, swiftly pulling his fingers from you just to watch you choke back a squeal, "tell your parents about that breed you'd been looking at." He suggested, watching you closely.
"I-I, um..." You trailed, unable to look your parents in the eyes.
You stood up, brushing your dress down and mumbling something about needing fresh air before walking off.
Your parents were confused as you left, wondering what happened to make you feel like that. Not that it would've been hard to put the blame on them, having asked such rude questions about the man you'd told them time and time again that you loved to him, nonetheless.
Dave excused himself, using his best sympathetic tone when saying he needed to go check on you.
You'd gone to your shared bedroom and the second Dave had closed the door behind himself he was on you, wrapping his muscular arms around you and pulling you tight to him, lips crashing against yours.
You tried to push him away but he just moved from your lips to your neck. "Davie-Davie, please! Please, Davie, we-we can't do this!" You tried to reason, hands planted firmly on his shoulders.
"Yes, we can, you just have to have faith, darling." He mused, guiding you backwards to the bed.
He sat you down on the edge of the bed and got on his knees in front of you, spreading your legs and tugging your panties down, giving him full access to your glistening folds.
He went right back to fingering you, only now his tongue made it even more unbearable, circling your clit and collecting your juices. You were so sweet on his tongue, delectable and those noises that had his mind running laps.
You could feel that knot getting dangerously close to snapping. Tears filled your eyes, body trembling as you struggling against Dave's touch, trying to keep you still enough for him. You just wanted to use him, or let him use you, which ever was easier.
You'd been driving yourself crazy with this dinner, you hadn't let yourself get too close to Dave and now that you finally let him in you couldn't take it, it was too much all at once.
You needed it, you needed him so bad.
You bit your lip so hard you drew blood, but it was worth it as you felt the wave of pleasure wash over you, that feeling of pure bliss where your body completely relaxed and you could just feel Dave with your whole being.
He didn't let you enjoy it for as long as you'd like, pulling away, pushing his fingers into his mouth and cleaning them of you before getting your dress right.
He rested his hands on your waist and looked up at you with sincere, warm eyes. "Everything is fine, you did great and you are so, so beautiful tonight, do you know that?" He said.
You had no idea what he was talking about or what he was doing. You wanted to questions him but then the door opened and took all of your attention.
It was your dad coming to check on you. Dave had heard him coming and knew he needed to cover, so he did, shining a smile at your dad as he came in.
"Don't worry, I've got her." He said, standing and pulling you to your feet, holding you close as your knees wobbled from the high he'd just brought you to.
Oh, how he loved you.
Oh, how he tortured you.
You had to sit through the rest of dinner with your parents totally commando in a dress, all while Dave sat completely fine next to you. Well, aside from the obvious tightness in his jeans.
#megadeth x reader#megadeth smut#megadeth imagines#megadeth fanfiction#megadeath#megadeth#dave mustaine x reader#dave mustaine smut#dave mustaine imagines#dave mustaine fanfiction#dave mustaine#dave mustaine rp
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there's something I've been thinking about recently, and tonight seems like a good enough occasion to talk about it
back when I was in therapy, every session my therapist would ask the same question
"What is something you're looking forward to this week"
The first time she asked that, I just figured it was a part of getting to know me as a new patient. Building rapport and trust and such. But when she repeated it every time I spoke to her, it made me wonder why she'd ask that specific question every time
Well, after thinking it over for a while, I think the reason she asked that is because it's really important to have something to look forward to regularly in life. Even if it's something small, as long as it's something you can find a little joy in See, nearly every time she asked me that, my answer would be that I was looking forward to my weekly DND game. It wasn't something too grand, just me and a few others messing around for 2 hours on roll20. But I felt happy when DMing for them, it wasn't much, but it still something that brought a little bit of fun every week
I feel like that's a critical part about staying alive on the day to day. Your life doesn't have to be filled with every day excitement like you're living a wealthy influencer lifestyle in order for you to carve out a bit of happiness for yourself
Like I said, it can be something small. Maybe it's DND games, maybe it's seeing the new episode of a show you like air, maybe once a week you let yourself order a pizza or eat out, maybe you and some friends get together to a watch a movie. Could even be that you just set aside a few hours where you can do something you like, literally anything as long as it brings you some enjoyment. Just a bit of time when you don't have to be productive and working and worrying about everything
I know the idea of doing something just for yourself can feel selfish, like you're wasting precious time. Especially with everything that's going on in the world, it can make you feel guilty for letting yourself find joy when some many others are suffering and in danger
Take it from someone who spent the latter half of their schooling dealing with dysthymia, self harm, and constant panic and anxiety attacks. Feeling nothing but misery 24/7/365 will help nothing. Depriving yourself of any positive emotion day in and out will fix nothing. All it will do is land you in either the grave or a mental hospital, and you certainly won't be able to help anyone from either of those places
If you want to help others, you'll have to be able to support yourself first. And that means not letting the stress of being alive build up to the point of crushing you under its weight. Take an hour or two every few days to let yourself truly breathe and relax. Think of it as fortifying your self for what's to come. You'll need some way to maintain your strength through the storm if you ever want to see the other side of it I'm not saying to ignore the bad parts of life, just don't ignore the good parts either. Even if you have to make those good parts with your own hands Eventually, the world will get better. But that will take time, so you will need to work to ensure you are around long enough to see it
This week, I'm looking forward to the new Dandadan episode, and going to get my new dog his name tag This month, I'm looking forward to making Thanksgiving dinner and getting to have some turkey and pumpkin pie Next year, I'm looking forward to starting a project that I've been thinking about for months
What is something you are looking forward to?
you don't gotta tell me it if you don't want to, just make sure you have one
#sometimes you gotta give yourself a reason not to game end yourself#and sometimes that's watching animation and letting yourself talk at length about an indie show about robots#“if you die you can't see how that TV show ends” might be a petty reason#but if it works it works#you don't need a grand or profound reason to stay alive#just one that keeps you alive
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attn folks interested in preserving fanfiction + digital fan history
alright so uh... the us is going through some shit right now.
as someone who's currently pursing graduate education with a substantial focus in fan studies, i am especially concerned about preserving the amount of works fans have created over the last however many years we've been fucking around on the internet. in particular, i'm really worried about ao3 and (even though i look at it like a cousin i'm not fond of) wattpad. these sites have immense cultural value and history that is worth preserving, and i'm not gonna lie: i'm a little worried about their standing come january.
so this is where we as a collective come in. i don't know how many followers i have on this silly hellsite, but i'm going to ask folks this: please, please, please— start archiving the fanfics and fanart and fan-everything of the fandoms you're in, you care about, or you have been in. put it on an external harddrive. make back ups. you'll want it if things go south, and scholars like me will want it so we can preserve fan history.
if you're interested in doing this, rb or message me or leave a comment or something and i'd love to work together on making a massive, cloud and external, database of fandoms we all care about. we have time to do this, and other folks have done and are doing this, but we need to do it.
to spread this around some, i've tagged this with fandoms i'm most active with here, but share wild and far. even if you don't want to do this with me, do it with your friends. please <3
tldr: i, and many other fan studies folks/fans writ large, are worried about what happens to fanfiction come january and trump's presidency. if you also care about this, let's work together to start putting together a database of fics we care about.
p.s. and if you do it i'll even give you a little shoutout in the acknowledgements of my master's thesis if you want idk (is this anything????)
#taskmaster#game changer#dropout tv#dropout#naddpod#off book podcast#good omens#dimension 20#play it by ear#please please please do this#i'm literally on my knees begging you#please god
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Pt. 27 - Lap Dances
A/N: Just when you read the title and think you know what to expect with this one, you don't 🏃
TAGS: she/her AFAB FMC, FMC actually can't dance, humiliation kink, degradation kink, public humiliation, non-consensual drug use, dom!Feyd
WORD COUNT: 465
"You're pathetic, pet," Feyd-Rautha drawls and her next turn has her meeting the leering gaze from his glazed eyes, fingers loosely curled around a half-empty glass. His vile companions chuckle loudly.
She knows, if only she could dance well, this torment would be over and he would discard her like a toy that has grown old and boring. But she cannot force her hips to sway with the same elegance that the other dancers possess for all one is worth. Her every terrified limb is stiff and the horrendous plastic outfit his slaves have strapped her in makes her want to curl up in shame.
It emphasizes every body part that she hates, makes her feel exposed and undesirable. She doesn't know if Feyd-Rautha actually likes her in this or if he just likes to see her suffer.
Again, she turns, arching her spine slowly when her behind is facing him. Feyd laughs and she wants nothing more than to claw his face off, but the bruises from the last time she tried still haven't quite healed. Once she faces him, she places her hands on his strong thighs, shivering from the heat of his skin. The folds of his loincloth bulge obscenely where his long, thick cock is waiting for her to finish her dance.
Even drunk and drugged, he strikes like a viper, snatching her face with one calloused hand. She squeals pitifully through puckered lips, fighting as he lifts his glass and sets it to her lips.
"You look thirsty, pet. My poor darling shouldn't go thirsty." Amber liquid spills over her mouth and she swallows hastily, unable to stop the stream that splatters down her cleavage.
Immediately, her pupils are blown wide and her tongue prickles with the scent of cinnamon and Feyd-Rautha's perfume. He lets her go with a rough shove. The music blares.
Now she can barely keep on her feet, dizzy from the drug's onslaught on her brain. She tries to go on, but after no more than three minutes, she nearly falls, catching herself on the na-Baron's thigh. His companions laugh and her ears ring from humiliation, or from the spice. Tears spill freely down her cheeks and she sinks on her knees, hiding her face in her arm.
"Ahh-h-h, come here. I don't want your mouth tonight, want your cunt." Feyd-Rautha mercifully hauls her in his lap and she nearly sobs with relief. The bit that comes now is the pleasant part of the night. His chest is hard and warm and plastic creaks as he paws at her waist and hips, ravenous black teeth finding her breasts as his cock grinds at her cunt.
The spice makes her bold enough to fantasize that maybe — maybe — in his own rotten way, he does find her desirable.
FEYD TAG LIST
@nostalgichoya, @forgedfromthestars, @sweetiee-o, @missbingu, @minedofmoria
@sebastianswallows, @charmingballoon, @flower-frog, @welliah, @aoi-targaryen
@coastalcowgirl35, @esolean, @szapizzapanda, @tatertooted, @sunny747
@ughdontbeboring, @meetmeatyourworst
#feyd rautha harkonnen#feyd rautha#feyd#feyd x reader#feyd x you#feyd x oc#feyd rautha x reader#feyd rautha x you#feyd rautha x oc#feyd imagine#feyd rautha imagine#feyd smut#feyd rautha smut#austin butler#kinktober 2024#peggysuave kinktober 2024#absurdthurst kinktober
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Don't forget, you can find more of this under my 'arranged witching au' tag!
--
He was even hotter up close, Tony lamented, curling his hands into fists in his lap. Rogers' hair looked golden in the candlelight, and it seemed to make the blue of his eyes pop more. He was built like a brick house, too, and Tony hadn't even known he found that attractive until Rogers had handed his shield off to one of the footmen like it weighed nothing and the footman had staggered with it, his own muscles straining to hold it off the floor.
Nomadic covens were used to hard labor. If they settled in a place, it was only for a few years, and then they left before their magic could truly take root. The downside to this was that they'd never be as powerful as a rooted coven. On the other hand, a witch was only as strong as their roots where they were rooted, so unless they were on their own property, they would find the nomads had the upper hand in a fight.
He'd never thought about what that 'hard labor' would entail, nor that he might... have to appreciate it. It wasn't a chore to appreciate.
Tony gripped his hands tighter, until he could feel his nails biting into his palms, and tried to focus on what Rogers and his father were talking about. It was difficult. Howard had cast a muddling spell to keep their conversation from being overheard. He comforted himself with the knowledge that Rogers seemed to be the only person who could hear him--even his mother appeared to be having difficulty following along. Rogers's coven-mates weren't even pretending they could understand.
Rogers set something on the table between them, and Tony didn't even pretend he wasn't craning his head to see what it was. He felt a flush of ice through his veins as he saw the skull and tentacles branded into the piece of burnt leather. He'd only seen it once before, when his mother had brought a bundle of old things that included a medallion like it to a cleansing fire, and one of the old biddies from another coven had explained that that was what the man who cursed Tony as a babe had been wearing. (The old biddy's voice had lowered, conspiratorial, "Maria Stark was so enraged when she realized her baby had been cursed, the warlock had burst into flames without her having to utter a word.")
Tony suddenly understood the gravity of his upcoming nuptials. If Hydra was rearing their ugly heads again, it wouldn't be just the nomadic covens in danger--every rooted coven would be, too. Hydra had turned their magic dark, ugly, something that sucked the power from others and killed them from the inside like poison. They didn't even need to show brute force to ruin a coven. All they needed was one person to sneak in and poison it from the inside.
Tony had known his father probably wouldn't fight the engagement, but now, seeing that Hydra was back on the rise again, he knew they wouldn't have a choice.
"I have this, too," Rogers suddenly said, voice cutting through loud and clear, and set a wooden box on the table in front of Tony.
Tony blinked, then glanced over at his parents. When Maria gave him a slight nod, he turned back to it, reaching out to draw it toward himself. The box's finish was slick under his fingers, and it still felt warm from Rogers's body heat. He ran his thumbs over the edges, then tipped the box open on its hinges.
"Oh," he breathed as light glinted off the large blue stone inside. It was cut square, resting in a silver setting. The silver band seemed thinner than what a man would normally wear. He took it out of the velvet cushion and held it up between his index and thumb. It wouldn't fit--it was for smaller, more delicate fingers. His mother's finger, probably.
The blue of the stone seemed to swirl in circles, but when Tony turned it toward the light, it stopped.
He looked up at Rogers, then let his eyes drift down to where his hands were clasped on top of the table, at the tear drop-shaped ruby set in gold on his finger. His mother had given Sarah Rogers that, as thanks for taking the curse off of him.
Rogers reached out, gently taking the ring from his fingers. He lifted it to his mouth, gave it a quick blow, as if he was trying to blow dust off of it. Then he reached back toward him, sliding the ring onto his finger--a perfect fit.
Tony could feel his cheeks turning pink and ducked his head, barely managing to choke out a polite, if strained, "Thank you."
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The “there is a trans GENOCIDE going on” is so obnoxious to me, especially as a Black woman. Is anyone talking about the black maternal mortality rate as a “genocide”? Do we frequently call racist police brutality a “genocide”? As far as I’m aware no. What is it exactly that elevates/legitimizes transness as this non plus ultra of oppression?
Because it's a male movement,it started with males,otherwise it wouldn't have taken root in western society. Male entitlement is thinking that a boundary (getting rejected,not being welcome in female only spaces) is opression.
This is the model they are using to argue that there is a trans genocide going on,I first saw it on tiktok a few years ago,some of them are claiming we're already at the 8th stage.
If you look at this graph you can actually see that a lot of these apply to females and poc,yet indeed no one says anything about a black genocide or a female genocide,even the term femicide is highly debated.
It really is just an ideology born out of too much comfort,imagine going out of your way to be opressed (look like a woman) and then complain about "discrimination" (people seeing through your bs fetish),meanwhile females on the other side of the world can't even speak to each other lol.
Here they come crying about how it's not a choice! Yeah,being gay,black,female is not a choice,you don't become gay through expensive surgeries,being black doesn't come with the option of staying white. There is no such thing as a gender identity and if there is such a thing as gender dysphoria it shouldn't be treated by endorsing the patient through surgeries and "gender affirmation",just like we don't presrcibe ozempic to anorexics or nose jobs to body dysmorphics (ha,at least we shouldn't). Gender dysphoria doesn't make someone the opposite sex,it just makes them dysphoric.
The genocide argument is just fear mongering so you feel guilty to disagree with their ideology beause if you do you are participating in an *ugly buzzword*!
I'm so sick of their made up problems
Also let's take some of these points
While it may be true that they face discrimination for presenting gnc that is not isolated to transgenders,they also do not face any exclusion through dicriminatory laws as far as I'm aware,in fact many of them are gaining the right to female only spaces and sports? Many TIMs are winning awards in female only competitions (such as Dylan Mulvaney winning woman of the year) would that happen in an ongoing genocide?? (Did any jew win aryan of the year during the holocaust?)
It just feels a tad insensitive to compare not allowing males in women's prisons to the segregation of jews,no?
There aren't any basic rights being taken away from them systematically (if you think banning hrt on children is an infringement of body autonomy you can fuck right off,minors are also no able to get any tattoos is that a violation of their body autonomy? These are experimental medical practices,not something to play with)
What loss of liberty? What freedoms are they loosing? What systematic violence? A lot of TIMs are in prison for literal sex crimes because it's a fucking fetish and paraphilias go toghether not because they are targeted 😭 this is no stereotype or fear mongering either, it's a statistic.
In fact,if they were going through a genocide we would be able to speak against them freely without loosing our jobs and being shunned.
Edit: i just scrolled through the trans genocide tag on tumblr and surprise suprise most of it is TIM porn! The other half is them complaining about laws that restrict rushing children into medical transition...yeah boy what a genocide!
#here they come#the angry pornsick males are gonna hate this one#radfeminism#radfemblr#radical feminist safe#radicalfeminism#radical feminism#terf#feminism#terfsafe#modern feminism#transgender#gendie receipts#gendie brainrot receipts#gendie#gender critical#gender abolition
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30 More Fluff Prompts
So my friend gave me the brilliant/horrible idea to make some fluff prompts based off actual dumb shit I've done/had happen to me. So here they are I guess. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
These ones weren't pre-written with just myself in mind, so they actually use the proper 'person A/B' format for prompts. First fluff prompt list can be found >>here<<
If you use one of these, please tag me so I can seeee~˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
(18+), MDNI, NSFW and actual cavity inducing content below the cut ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
Person A calls person B for their lunch break everyday. And I mean every single day. Person A says B's call and voice is what even allows them to get through the day.
Person A starts calling person B during their lunch break everyday. Person A's coworkers, who they USED to hang out with during lunch, are all super interested in this new supposed paramour. They start gossiping, theorizing, as well as hustling person A trying to get information about person B like its high school. 🌸Bonus points if this is a bunch of old/middle aged/super jacked men doing this
Person A and B have been online friends/dating/"just flirting"™ for months now. They finally decide to meet up in person. When they do, they both are super awkward and tense at first before quickly loosening up and having a blast by the end of the night like they are old pals.
Person A has person B and C accompanying them. B and C have been trying to get A's attention and quickly start competing against each other. B and C get so caught up in trying to one up each other that they completely don't notice person D just calmly walk up to A, ask them out, and whisk A away while they are arguing.
Person A says that they want to accompany person B to all their doctor's appointments and actually insists on it. When B asks them why, person A says its because they are their partner so they want to be there to support them, especially in case something goes wrong.
Person A tells person B that they have something super important to tell them and to let them know when they can talk about it. Person B, all panicked, asks what it is. Person A, with a completely straight face, just says "I love you". 🌸Bonus dialogue: 🌸*after a long pause* Person B: Wa-was that it?? 🌸Person A, now snickering: What do you mean? Is my LOVE not important to you?
Person A is an artist that knows how to write in a language person B does not. Person A frequently doodles faux tattoos on B, but B doesn't know that the symbols A draws on them are actually messages of love.
Person A and B are sitting next to eachother, fingers intertwined, and lovingly staring into eachothers eyes. They both go in for a kiss. Person B scooches closer and puts their leg in A's lap... only to get jabbed by A's raging hard-on. Person A pulls away from the kiss with an annoyed sigh and says, "I'm sorry, this happens everytime I look at you."
Person A goes up to person B's hotel room with the intention of having sex. However, when person A jumps onto B's lap and starts sweetly kissing them, B absolutely melts from the affection and asks if they can just kiss and cuddle instead.
Person A wakes up next to person B and starts to gently kiss them awake. Person B eventually goes, "I wish I could wake up every morning like this..."
Person A and B are in a long distance relationship. Person A frequently says the words "can I see you?" to B. Which means they want a candid photo of B, right then, in the moment. It doesn't matter what stupid stuff B is doing, or how garbage they feel, A always gushes over how beautiful B is when they send a picture.
Person A is on the phone with person B. A child person A is with (they can be babysitting or it can be their own child, whatever) suddenly shouts, "Are you on the phone with your wife?". Person B starts dying of laughter while person A is just completely shocked like, "M-my wife??" 🌸Bonus dialogue: 🌸Person A: We are not married we are just dating. 🌸Child: But you love them right? 🌸Person A: Yeah? 🌸Child: And you would do anything for them right? 🌸Person A: Yeah...? 🌸Child: THAT MEANS YA MARRIED.
Person A constantly tells everyone how amazing their partner, person B is. Its to the point that person A has now started carrying around pictures of B just so they can brag about them.
Person A told their parent(s) about how deeply they are in love with person B. So now said parent(s) are desperately trying to meet/get to know person B much to A's dismay. B has no idea what is going on.
Person A suddenly texts/calls person B and starts trying desperately to make plans at some point later in the day for them to meet up. Person B keeps shooting down all of A's ideas saying they will be busy during that time or other reasons why the idea won't work. Until person A finally breaks down and says, "look. I just... really want to see you."
Person A is totally lost. Person B finds them and knows immediately they are lost because they are just that pathetic/confused looking. When person A asks person B for directions, B is like 'Ill just show you where to go so you don't get lost again'. B grabs A's hand and leads them to their destination holding hands so they don't lose them.
Person A and B haven't seen eachother in awhile. When they finally see eachother again, they both go in for a big hug. Person A sighs and mumbles "god I missed your hugs". There is then an awkward pause before Person A nervously asks, "...did I say that outloud?"
Person A is hanging out in a mall with some friends when suddenly person B walks up and gives person A a big hug from behind. Person A is confused at first, but is then shocked when they turn around and see person B, someone who they haven't seen in years.
Person A is walking past some stores when suddenly they hear their name shouted from behind them. They turn around to see person B, their best friend from years ago. Person B is wearing the uniform of one of the shops A passed, so B was clearly working and ran out when they saw A. They both run at eachother into an embrace like its a tv show.
Person A and B start a movie/tv show marathon together. At the start, they are practically on opposite sides of the couch. But they keep slowly getting closer and closer as the marathon goes on. Until by the end, they are firmly snuggled into each other.
Dialogue Prompts
"I'm sorry if I was rude when we first met. You were just so pretty I couldn't look at you in the eyes."
Person A: I love you. Person B: *gasps* I love you!! I've been wanting to say that but I didn't want to scare you…
"Honestly? I would be happy if I just got to come home from work everyday to you and a kiss."
"Coming home to you everyday would make everything worth it."
"I never really believed in the whole soulmate thing until I met you. There... isn't really another way to explain how perfect everything came together."
Person A: So, um... Would you be okay if we cuddle? Person B: *immediately scooches over* Yesplease.
Person A: Do you really have to go? Person B: Sweetie. We have been cuddling for 4 hours.
"Look. I don't mind sharing a bed. But I do demand cuddles as payment."
Person A, panicking and running their sentences together: I-I totally understand if your uncomfortable with me sleeping in the bed. I can just sleep on the floor, it's fine-OR I can sleep on the couch- Person B: *slow frog blink* …I'm fine with you sleeping in the bed, dumb-dumb.
Person A: Your couch is like... mega uncomfortable. Can I just like- share the bed with you? Person B: Seriously??!
#one bed trope#dialogue prompt#dialogue starters#dialogue inspiration#dialogue ideas#writing prompt#prompts#story prompts#writing ideas#writing inspiration#suggestive prompts#prompt list#fanfiction prompts#writing prompts#otp prompts#story prompt#fic prompt#imagine your otp#fake scenarios#fake scenes#romance prompts#writing scenarios#writing scenes#fluff#fluff prompts#fluff prompt#fluff starter#fluffy prompts#fluff imagine#fluff prompt list
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