#everybody's alive in this because I said so
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Kim Roksoo/Cale Henituse is such a comfort character. He's to me what Yoo Jonghyuk was to Kim Dokja. And I love Yoo Ryeo Han-nim for creating a character like him.
Kim Roksoo is all about resilience and tenacity. He's the living embodiment of how you shouldn't give up no matter how hard life gets. His life was downright horrible in every possible way. Just when you'd think it couldn't get worse, it does. He was finally starting to see hope in that lonely life when all hope was lost in the apocalypse. What could be more devastating? But he found a sliver of hope in his saviour and made reaching him his goal. Even though his ability wasn't suited for the battlefield he still signed himself up for the Body side to stay closer to Lee Soo Hyuk.
When his second family left him, it would have been so easy for him to just give up and let himself die. It wouldn't have taken much effort. Yet he persevered just because of the promise he made to Lee Soo Hyuk.
No matter how cruel life was to him, he always persevered. He was orphaned at an early age, abused by his guardian, hunted down by otherworldly entities (though he didn't remember that part), everybody he tried to get close to left him, right before he could make something out of his life the apocalypse hit them, his entire team was annihilated right in front of his eyes. It just kept getting worse and worse.
However, it's because he endured it and moved forward that he was able to achieve happiness. If he had given up somewhere along the way, had he never lived to be 36 years old as Kim Roksoo, he would never have been transmigrated into the body of the 18 years old Cale Henituse and gotten a second chance at life. He would never have gotten to meet the new people he calls his family. Nor would he have been able to meet his old family members, Lee Soo Hyuk and Choi Jung Soo, again. All of this was possible because he lived.
The key takeaway of Kim Roksoo's life and journey is that life will get better if you just keep living it. If it's not looking good now, maybe the point hasn't come yet. So don't be disheartened and give up on life. Because, as Lee Soo Hyuk said, being alive is the best.
#lcf#lout of count’s family#trash of the count's family#tcf novel#tcf#cale henituse#cale#kim rok soo
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claiming this as my free space on outsiders bingo
titles from reunion square - warriors the musical
i’ll be putting it on ao3 in a little while as well but as of rn here you go :)
when you woke up today you didn’t think you could die, neither did i (but you don’t decide)
Johnny was never that big on helping people. He wouldn’t say he goes out of his way to torment people, but, well sometimes Dally’s schemes are really funny. That being said, Johnny Cade was not planning on saving those kids. After Dally’s lecture, he was ready to get in the passenger seat and commandeer the radio with a nice cigarette.
He should’ve known that if any of them would have gone back for those kids it’d be Ponyboy. So, Johnny followed. Not to save the kids, but to save Ponyboy. But then Pony handed him that first kid and, well, Johnny’s always wanted to be a hero, okay. When he started saving those kids it was like something ignited inside of him. He suddenly saw himself as the kind of hero that only appears in comics and story books.
When he takes a second to catch his breath after getting all the kids out, he smiles at Pony. The church is a thousand degrees, he’s hot as all get out, but this is the most Johnny’s ever felt alive. When he gets older, he’s going to be a firefighter. There’s not many fires in Tulsa, at least not on his side of the tracks, but Johnny’s fairly sure they do other things than just fighting fires. They save people too and, not to toot his own horn, but Johnny thinks he’s pretty good at this saving people business.
He turns to Ponyboy with a grin on his face to tell him his new career path when he hears a faint voice. It’s in that split second when he turns his head, that something knocks the wind out of him. It’s heavy enough that Johnny waits a second for it to remove itself, thinking it must be a kid they missed. Four seconds pass before he realizes it can’t possibly be a kid. That’s when he feels the burning.
Johnny knows he’s on fire. He must be because it’s hot and his back is killing him. He’s always had bad back pain, courtesy of sleeping in the lot or on Two-Bit’s old couch, but this pain is something he’s never felt before. It feels like when Two-Bit’s younger sister jumps on him in the mornings to wake him up but this time she refuses to get off. If he could focus better, he might even say that he could feel the fabric of his t-shirt and the denim of his jacket fusing into his skin.
Focus, Johnny, you can’t die here. When you’re on fire you’re meant to stop, drop and roll, right? He can’t really do that though can he; he can barely move as it is. Johnny takes a shallow breath and attempts to crawl from whatever’s pinned him down, but as soon as does he collapses in sheer agony.
He can wait here, he thinks to himself, closing his eyes. His chest aches and he can’t catch his breath and suddenly Johnny’s taken back to a few weeks ago when Bob and his friends jumped him. Everything hurts just like then and at this moment there’s nothing Johnny wants more than to go home.
His eyes start to water and Johnny’s honestly not sure if it’s from the smoke and the heat or if he’s crying, but in one last effort for help he screams. He screams for everybody, Dally, Ponyboy, Steve, Two-Bit, Ace, Sodapop, and Darry too. He’s not too sure any of them actually heard him, he doesn’t have the energy let alone the air to scream too loudly.
For one blissful moment, he feels a chill and then his breath evens out.
#this came to me in a vision#i was crocheting and got the idea of a johnny cade edit to the song but then i remembered#idk how to edit#so here’s the next best thing#this different form my usual content#i’m a firm believer of johnny and dally live but alas#rip johnny cade#the outsiders#darry curtis#outsiders musical#ponyboy curtis#sodapop curtis#steve randle#johnny cade#dally winston#dallas winston#the outsiders fanfiction#specific dreamer's fics#frgt abt that tag#two-bit matthews#two bit matthews#the outsiders bingo
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I just want to let you know that I am obsessed with the reverse AU where Claudia is the adult and loustat are the teens in the family. It's such an interesting idea and loustat look so cute in your art! Thank you for making it
Thank you so so much, I’ve very glad you enjoy both the idea and the sketches for it!!! I gotta admit I’m kinda obsessed with it too, I would LOOOOOVE to read some fics exploring this new, very different dynamic! And, like, it obviously changes the plot as drastically as everything else, but wouldn’t it be interesting to try and keep certain key moments unchanged somehow (but reversed), and then how would it end ultimately? The same horrible way for the boys that it ended for Claudia? THE ANGST POTENTIAL. But in a different fic I literally just want to see a much better functioning (because Claudia’s running things) (though it still would not be totally healthy…) vamp fam taking Paris by storm, stealing Armand’s theatre (would he still even have it, without Lestat in the picture??? see so much stuff to explore!) and enjoying life being two proud vamps + one still a bit on the fence about it all, but at least his family loves him and lets him read quietly in the back row.
Anyway, sorry for this essay, as you can clearly see, I’m also quite fond of this au, so 1. might draw for it again, nobody be surprised! 2. if you have fics with this idea — gimme gimme gimme those links, I’m very curious!!
#this is so unnecessarily long all I had to say was ‘thanks lovely anon’ but I have FEELINGS and THOUGHTS ughhhh#the whole charlie situation?!???!!? my silly head is full of ideas unfortunately for everybody (myself included because ouch it hurts)#we literally have the perfect moment for them to realise ‘OH NO I’M QUITE FUCKED’ but now you have two people in the same boat and you can#contrast their situations/realisations/ways of coming to terms with reality of their circumstances#because it obv wouldn’t just be the charlie disaster 2.0 it would look different for each of them#great way to include nicki and make it fucking HURT man/contrast it with jonah who at least stays alive but plays his role in delivering th#message ‘you’re gonna be forever 14’ to Louis… bonus points if you sneak in a line that he STILL IS actually a bit younger than Louis#it’s just that he gets to grow up into a ‘real man’ que the crisis of identity… meanwhile lestat’s too busy being wild and self-destructive#because his first love just killed himself AND because his own realizations are running after him biting his heels…#Claudia is starting to really regret wanting any children at all me thinks…#also I’m sorry for getting a bit dark when you specifically said you enjoyed the cuteness anon#you’re obv free to completely ignore my mad ramblings#interview with the vampire#iwtv#asks#cw: suicide mention
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forming parosocial relationships with the people in the medical book </3
#okay so.#its from 1917 and very dated but its so fascinating hearing the theories and practices#and then it having photographs and illustrations based on the writers experiences and exposure to different cases#and i got a little habit forming of just... mentally thanking them#like a subconscious 'thank u my friend'#for their involvement and how thwy played a factor and part in the advancement of science and knowledge#like even if its just a fraction of a sand grain in the vast dessert. its a fraction that influences all around it.#like !!! thats all lives ! long gone ! but it was actual lives that were here and played a factor and influence !#i hope they knew theyll be remembered even if i will never know their names and story. they were important than important now#<- this is all said from someone who would sneak out at 13 and walk to the nearest graveyard to talk to the forgotten tombstones#because i was terrified at the idea that ghosts can exist/some consciousness and theyd feel lonely or forgotten#everyone deserves a friend u know? leave some flowers to a stranger. tell another u hope theyre at peace and are well. say hello & goodbye#its 10 pm. still tired. still constantly in love with humans and strangers and friends and eventually the mirror#i want to take everybody by the shoulders and shake them as i yell that i love them#alive or dead. the dead that feel alive. the live that feel dead just !!#i love you ! i love you ! i love you ! i know you and i love you ! youre a stranger and i love you !!!#these tags are all over the place#and doesnt make sense but ur all used to it by this point#im gonna read and get a shower and tuck myself into bed. remind myself i love myself too even if i dont rly believe it (yet)#crypt callings#probably delete later#depends how embarrassed i am on this word dump and oversharing hehdh
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there’s been a couple nights where you and arranged!gojo have had to host little dinners at the estate to show face and let people know you two are still alive.
it’s before the big confession, when the two of you were becoming closer, so it was just pretend niceness hiding the tension for a couple hours.
you tried to talk to the people around the large dining room table, sitting near gojo as you listened in on the conversation, but it was better to just be a part of it rather than the center of the spotlight. gojo had become increasingly aware of the long looks people gave your way, the hushed talks behind the women’s hands. you didn’t notice, maybe you’d been jaded to it, but he did, and he was becoming more tense under their stares.
he noticed how you’d try to jump in and say something, but was instantly cut off by somebody else. gojo had told you before the dinner started that the two of you should hold hands, but you hadn’t let go of his, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to let go of you either. he’d give you an encouraging squeeze, one which you gave him a little smile to, but still clammed up, sitting back in your seat.
"want me to tell them to shut up?" he whispered to you, dropping his head near your ear so that nobody else could hear.
"no it's okay," you say with a laugh, waving it off, "i was just going to ask what cashmere is," you say, in relation to a previous story one of the girls was telling about cashmere moth, and how her entire closet was chewed to bits because of the creatures.
"it's a type of fabric," he explains gently, his eyes searching yours, "very soft," he adds with a little smile and yours grows wider.
"i'd like to see it," you comment, leaning a little bit closer to him.
"i'll have your closets full of cashemere by the morning if you'd like," he says, but you know deep down it could be a promise if you simply said yes.
but you giggle, shaking your head.
"no," you're looking up at him in that way that makes his tongue feel heavy, "the moths, they must be huge," you murmur and he snorts, squeezing your hand a little bit tighter in retaliation.
to be honest, gojo hated these dinners. these people he grew up with were dull and annoying, their conversations full of lame gossip and cheap jokes, and he’d much prefer your lively stories with just you, but they were a necessary evil.
when the servants had cleared the meal away and had begun setting up for dessert, he could feel the stare of one of the girls, anya, and the way her eyes squinted when he caught her looking. he saw the way she sneakily tipped her head back, chin pointing to the opening near some of the stone columns, and excused herself a couple seconds later, looking over her shoulder at him before she disappeared.
gojo knew anya. he’d fooled around with her a couple of times long before the two of you got married, but he found her a bit shallow and dim, nothing he found interesting. he looked over at you to see if you had seen her, but you were looking at your plate, moving some grains of uneaten rice around with your fork.
curiosity got the better of him, wondering what it was she wanted, and so he stood up, his chair scraping behind him as you let go of his hand, you, along with everybody else, looking at him as he excused himself to the washroom.
he walked briskly past the table, leaving through one of the openings of the stone columns, looking around until he say anya at the end of the hall, waiting for him.
“what?” he bit out, hushed, looking behind him to make sure that nobody had followed him out.
anya smiled, her teeth glimmering as he neared her, standing a safe distance away as she pouted slightly.
gojo winced. he forgot how her smile up close was unnerving, the way it wasn’t as soft or full of emotion like yours. her eyes, a deep hazel, glimmered as she took a step closer, her fingers reaching for his collar.
“i missed you,” she whispered, lips glossy as she peered up at him, her lashes batting against her cheeks as he felt his mother dry up, feeling a sudden air of nausea overtake him as he swatted her hand away.
he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“is that all you wanted to tell me?” he hissed out, knowing how stupid he sounded seeing how he had followed her out, surely expecting this.
“what?” anya tilts her head, “thought you’d like to hear it.”
gojo rolls his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest.
“i thought you had something important to say,” he shrugs, looking away, focusing on a crack, getting ready to leave until she laughs, shaking her head.
nobody said he was the brightest soldier in all the land. he’s not above some actually good gossip, but he had a feeling this ain’t about to be that.
“you’ve always loved gossip,” her eyes glimmer as she takes another tentative step closer, “is that why you married the center of it?”
his eyes narrow slightly, but she just sees him listening to her.
“come on,” anya snorts, her hand coming up to his face until she stops at his cold gaze, pulling her hand away, “we all know it’s not rank or looks that made you marry her.”
gojo feels his arms tighten, a vein bulging in his neck as he swallows thickly. he doesn’t say anything, wants to see how she continues, wants to see what everybody else thinks without saying it.
"i mean, your mother keeps saying it was reciprocal," she rolls her eyes, laughing mirthlessly, "but i know that's a lie. you look miserable whenever you're around her."
gojo feels his eyes twitch, his ring shining in the slivers of moonlight through the large, overarching windows.
"did you call me here to talk ill of my wife?" gojo bites out, but she can't sense his tone, giggling as she shoves him, his body not moving.
"drop the theatrics 'toru," he feels bile in his mouth at her sweetened words, "it's just me," she says, biting her lips as indiscreetly as she can, eyes raking over his toned body as she looks back up to his face, "but regardless, no, i had something else i wanted to tell you."
she sighs, her voice a little higher as if he wouldn't notice.
"i'm staying at the hostelry in the town near here for a couple of nights," she bats her eyes again, and suddenly gojo wonders if he had been insanely ill when he had slept with her those months ago because now he feels sick just looking at her, "if you wanted...i'm there for you."
he raises his white brow slightly.
"gods anya," he breaths deeply through his nose, his eyes darkened, "you have audacity if nothing else."
she smiles brightly, taking it as a compliment.
"i know," she winks, "i looked around the area, and nobody of import comes near there. i know you need it as bad as i do," her voice drops a little, eyes falling slightly to the ground, "people are talking. i know how lonely you must feel."
his nose wrinkles slightly in confusion.
"what are you talking about?"
anya looks at him briefly before looking away, shrugging.
"everybody knows you two don't share a room," she explains, "and how she's not even showing signs of pregnancy. is she frigid in bed? you know, some people are saying she's infertile."
gojo straightens up, a new look taking over his face that makes her voice die down.
"what? who's saying that? who's talking?" he presses, and she feels her mouth dry up, suddenly picking up on the fact that he doesn't seem to be at all interested in the deal she's trying to make.
he feels a sudden wave of mixed emotions washing over him.
are the maids taking? gods, that makes him feel even worse. it surely couldn't be yours, they care for you too much. but it must've been somebody who knows your situation, somebody who sees the way you live on different sides of the estate. gojo feels a sinking pit in his stomach. these rumors that are growing because of his own selfish actions, rumors at your own expense, ones you have no control over, by people you've been trying to befriend for ages.
he knows people look at you whenever you enter a room, hears their awfully concealed whispers. and despite the fact that you try to hide the hurt on your face, he sees the way you avade their glances, hide into yourself to act like it doesn't bother you.
are these whispers now because of him?
"i don't know," she mutters, annoyed, "everyone. you barely look at her. did your parents pay you to marry her? she must've been-"
"stop it." gojo warns, and she shuts her mouth, eyes shimmering with shock.
she looks like she's about to say something but stops, looking over his looming body at something.
"gojo? is that you?" another voice calls out, and he turns around, all the anger melting off of his face when he sees it's you, standing near the pillars as you try to find him.
you smile when you see him, still not seeing anya who's hidden behind him, and wave for him to come back.
"they're about to serve dessert," you say, trying to be as quiet as you can, "oh, are you with someone? sorry, i didn't mean to interrupt..." you trail off, your smile falling when anya shuffles around, making sure you see her behind him, your eyes widening.
gojo feels his world slipping beneath him as your shoulder drops, looking at him and then at anya, a somber look taking over your features. you look for another second, not knowing what to do. gojo feels like a fish, gaping silently at you, never looking back at anya, but you excuse yourself, going back to the dining hall without saying another word.
gojo stares aimlessly at the wall in front of him, not sparing his energy to look at the girl peering up at his face.
"get out," he murmurs, his voice low with timber.
"w-what?" she stammers, brows furrowing in confusion.
"get out before i call the guards," he snaps, looking at her from the side of his eyes, "fucking now anya, leave."
she looks up at him, swallowing thickly, but gets the memo that he's being serious. she scammers away, sniffling dramatically as she disappears through another hallway.
he drops his head into his hands, massaging his temples.
his eyes fall to his ring, the one that seems to be growing cold on his finger.
he feels his heart burn in his chest, every step feeling like he had stones tied to his feet as he makes his way back to the hall, hearing the edited clammer of the people welcoming him back, but there was only one person he cared about.
and you weren't looking at him.
in fact, you didn't speak to him that entire night. nor that following week.
gojo has almost bled to death before and has had arrows pierce his back and exit through his chest, but he'd rather experience that ten times again than feel the agonizing silence of the woman he's starting to love.
(second part)
#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo x reader angst#gojo drabble#jjk x reader#jjk drabble#jjk x reader angst#satoru x reader#satoru x you#arranged!gojo
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funniest disney history facts i can think of atm
literally EVERYBODY thought the lion king was gonna flop and pocahontas would be their greatest movie ever made. people begged to ditch lion king and work on pocahontas.
the reason robin hood ends so abruptly is that there was an actual ending planned and storyboarded but the crew spent too long arguing about everyone’s fursonas to finish animating it
madam mim was way less comedic in the original book but because her character was too similar to maleficent (who was in their latest film at the time), the sword and the stone crew decided to differentiate her by making her fucking hilarious
when making a goofy movie, jeffrey katzenberg (studio chairman at the time) told bill farmer to give goofy “a normal voice.” farmer, who had been voicing goofy for eight years at that point, including in the goof troop show that a goofy movie was a sequel to, was very confused. after making an attempt they decided to scrap that note completely.
as of march 2023, farmer is still voicing goofy, and tony anselmo has been voicing donald since 1986. the 2017 reboot of ducktales, which was slated as “wanting to do for donald what goofy movie did for goofy,” featured both actors as those characters; they had also been doing the voices for the original ducktales and goof troop/goofy movie. all the times goofy and donald interact in the 2017 ducktales however, donald was voiced by guest star don cheadle as a joke
current voice of mickey mouse bret iwan has stated that he has attempted to play kingdom hearts and did not do well
disneyland’s current world of color halloween overlay features a plot that is basically “the disney villains simultaneously adopt a goth kid” and i love it
people will make jokes about “well math says that the beast would’ve been 11 when he was cursed” well that was actually the original intent, but a flashback scene of baby beast was scrapped because he looked “too much like eddie munster”
when disney sent a representative to pixar to check on toy story production, she was like “this is all great! what style of music are you thinking” and they were like “for what” “for the songs” “we uh. we weren’t gonna have. any songs” and she went dead silent and then went “i have to make a call” and left the room
saludos amigos and the three caballeros were made as ww2 propaganda. the government commissioned disney to make movies to make latin america like them so that they wouldnt side with the nazis and provide them an in to invade, and latin america really liked donald duck so
saludos amigos was apparently the first time many usamericans realized that latin american people were like. people. film historian alfred charles richard jr said that the film “did more to cement a community of interest between peoples of the americas in a few months than the state department had in fifty years”
while latin america generally liked both films, chilean cartoonist rené rios boettiger fucking hated the chilean segment of saludos amigos, seeing the main character of pedro the plane as a weakass bitch, so in response he created condorito, the most popular comic character in all of latin america
disney wanted to adapt ts eliot’s old possum’s book of practical cats. his widow adamantly refused, and then sold the rights to andrew lloyd webber bc he wanted to make it sexy and she said “tom would’ve liked that”
in case you haven’t seen the defunctland, walt disney wanted epcot to be a futuristic utopia where he was basically the dictator. then he died so they just made it another theme park
speaking of defunctland the first defunctland video was on disneyworld’s alien attraction and please watch it. please it’s so funny
after the huge failure of the black cauldron disney was going to shut down its animation department. the department tried to convince them to keep them alive by showing them the one scene they had finished for the next movie– the mouse burlesque from the great mouse detective. it worked
the only attraction the black cauldron ever got was in tokyo disneyland where they put a tour under cinderella’s castle where everyone had to escape the disney villains trying to kill them, only to end at the horned king and the cauldron, who would try to sacrifice them to satan. this tour was popular but was closed in the early 2000s as the tunnels didn’t fit earthquake regulations and i want it in disneyworld so bad
walt disney once referred to his unionizing workers, led by goofy’s creator art babbitt, as “commie sons of bitches,” and i want a mickey build-a-bear that calls me a commie son-of-a-bitch whenever i squeeze its paw
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There's always people theorizing how the Batfamily hides Jason disappearance and reappearance, but I literally haven't seen anyone use the best explanation: Witness Protection.
Like this literally answers every question. The Death Certificate? They had to fake his death. The empty grave? Obviously it had to be believable. The time when Wayne Heir "Richie Wayne" refused to step foot in Gotham and talk to his father? He was pissed about Jason's (non) death. Brucie Wayne's very real depression after his death? Well he lost contact with his son and he was under immense stress from the government.
Like this literally answers every question I can come up with. Why has no one said he was in witness protection? And if people have done it, send me fics and prompts because I'm obsessed.
And the best part is, the Waynes are so stupidly rich that they could pull it off. Lex Luther could try and conduct his own investigation but somehow he can never find anything concrete. And if he gets too close either Babs hacks them or Tim just calls up Conner for a distraction.
One time Jason gets cornered and asked how he felt about returning to his life after being in Witness Protection. Unfortunately, him and Bruce weren't on the best terms to explain the whole story but he comes in clutch. He spins the tale about how heartbroken he was to see his brother, father and grandfather grieving and how honored he was when he learnt his new little brother idolized him. Tim got ahold of a copy of the interview and will never let Jason live it down.
The media doesn't ask Bruce questions about Jason's death because last time they did he broke down and a suddenly furious reporter chastised them and reminded them that while Jason may be alive Bruce still mourned his death. The picture of Bruce in tears at the interview is currently one of Jason's favourite lockscreens.
Same goes for Dick. Any questions of his brother's death results in (1) Richie Wayne ready to throw hands at any and everybody, (2) his wife (well one of them) Barbara Gordon threatening the reporters or (3) That same Metropolis reporter chastising the whole community again.
#dc comics#batfam#bruce wayne#jason todd#yes the reporter is clark#hes ready to fight for b and dick#vicky vale wonders if jason todd wayne was in witness protection due to something involving the red hood#jason goes on twitter and bashes the red hood's whole persona#dick grayson retweets that red hood is trying and is just a little lost#the official batman twitter likes that tweet#it causes a huge mess for both barbara and jim gordon to clean up#they knew they shouldn't have gotten involved with gothams pet billionaire and his weird kids
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a/n: im pretty sure this is my first work for haikyuu IM EXCITED I WANNA WATCH THE MOVIE ☹️ accept this offering 🫂 pspsps not beta 🤗 also the word pretty is overused .. i mean suna is pretty so 🧍♀️
“babe, i’m home— woah! i didn’t know we were at this stage in our relationship. finally admitting you’re obsessed with me?”
“shut up, rin.” coming home after a practice match to you lazing around on the couch, wearing his shirt? a jaw dropping view. suna admires the way his band t-shirt hangs loosely around your figure. your hair is a wet mess, you must’ve just taken a shower, and your eyes are practically begging to be closed. yet, suna thinks you look as beautiful as ever. fuck. if you guys weren’t already married, he would’ve proposed to you right there and then because you just look so perfect right now.
the light from your phone illuminates your facial features. his eyes rake from your lashes down to your lips. that brings a smile to his face. he drops his bag by the door and stalks over to where you are, dropping his whole weight on you.
“rin! get off— you’re heavy and sweaty!” try as you might but an over six foot tall athlete boyfriend is not easy to push off. “but you love me!” he buries his head in your neck with a groan.
“if i didn’t, i wouldn’t have a ring with your name engraved on the inside.” you sighed in defeat. to say that suna rintaro is a stubborn man would be an understatement. he’s pettier than a five-year-old and throws tantrums when his affections are rejected or not reciprocated.
he pushes himself up with his arms beside your head and looks down at you with a grin that only means mischief. “you are so in love and obsessed with me that you steal shirts from my closet. aren’t you a cutie?” he squeezes your cheeks with a calloused hand and makes kissing noises. he’s so stupid, you think. you just wanna stupidly shut him up.
and so you did, pulling down his chin with a hand of your own. capturing his lips in a fervor kiss comes easy as breathing. you feel his breath hitch for a second before he returns the favor.
suna pulls away first, slapping a palm over your mouth after. (“mmph?!” you glared)
“you are a menace. taking advantage of a man like me? evil!” he pulls his palm away and bit your cheek.
“i married a drama queen.” you rolled your eyes.
“you love this drama queen!”
“you sure about that? what if i married you for your money? or i married you for your— i don’t know, looks.” suna narrows his eyes at you before a mischievous grin spreads across his pretty face.
“i don’t know, babe. your vows said otherwise. what was it again? i am the luckiest person alive to be standing with you today and to be facing life with you everyday—”
“liar! those weren’t my vows!” you shove a throw pillow on his pretty face. “that is so cringe, i would never say that.”
“you are cringe. you would a hundred percent say that. hell, you’ll say something even more cringe than that.”
“you’re the cringe one. running to the stands and kissing me in front of everybody right after a game that you lost!”
“hey! i’m sensitive about that.” of course, he pouts at you. a frown on his pretty face resembling a kicked puppy.
“you insulted my vows.”
“i did not insult your vows. i was just.. recalling and rephrasing them.”
“that wasn’t anything near my vows. how dare you. i didn’t sleep for three nights writing those.” suna attacks your face again. littering kisses all over your pretty face.
“rin, stop it— your fucking saliva—”
“i love you, too.” he murmurs, plopping a kiss tied with passion and adoration on your lips.
likes and reblogs are appreciated! masterlist
#tim writes.#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu#haikyu x reader#haikyū!!#suna rintarou#suna rintaro x reader#suna rintarō#suna rintaro haikyuu#suna rintaro x y/n#suna x reader#suna x you#haikyuu suna#hq#hq x reader#hq suna#suna rintarou x reader#suna rintarou x you#suna rintaro x you
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MR. POLICEMAN - C. SEUNGCHEOL
KINKTOBER DAY 14 - AGE DIFFERENCE
SUMMARY : "everybody knows that i'm a good girl, officer" is what you said to him when you got arrested for selling drugs. and despite seungcheol having a wife and kids, he can't help stumbling over his words when you ask to suck his cock in exchange for letting you go.
-> pairing : police officer!seungcheol x fem!reader
-> words count : 1.4k
-> genre : smut
-> warnings : age difference (obviously), cheating, mention of drugs, oral (m. receiving), begging, dirty talk, deep throating, face fucking, cum eating, swearing, praising, hair pulling, dacraphylia, use of 'good girl'
+ the way i'm depicting seungcheol does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction
-> 18+ content bellow, minors DNI
-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.
-> masterlist | svt masterlist | kinktober 2024
“- I didn’t even do anything !
- The marijuana we found in your apartment seems to tell otherwise. If you want advice, you should really confess. The judge is gonna be a lot more lenient if you do as I say.”
A pout formed on your face as you crossed your arms in front of your chest, turning your gaze away from the officer in front of you. If you found the little bastard that had reported you, he was not going to make it out alive, for sure. In your mind, you did nothing wrong. Drugs helped you relax and focus on your writing in a way that your normal state didn’t allow, what was the harm in that ?
“- It’s not mine, I don’t know why it was there. Everybody knows that I’m a good girl officer.
- I hear these lies at least four times a day, Miss L/N. You should really tell me the truth if you want to avoid a serious sentence.”
But his words were going through one ear and out of the other, your eyes fixed on his face and his attractive features. You must admit that the man was handsome, and that his uniform was suiting him perfectly. He was obviously way older than you, and a framed photograph of his wife and two kids was sitting on his desk. But that wouldn’t deter you from the idea that had formed into your mind. You locked your doe eyes with his again, your crossed arms pushing your boobs together and making them almost spill out of your top. You tried to contain your smirk as the eyes of the officer flickered down to your chest - everything was going according to your plan.
“- Okay… I did have some weed, but it’s only for me and my friends, to relax, you know ? We did nothing wrong…”
You saw him gulp down as you leaned over his desk, hands pressed on the cold wood and your boobs now directly in his line of sight. It was impossible for him to ignore them as they were right in front of his face. But he looked away to his computer, trying to appear busy. Your own eyes roamed around the things scattered on his desk, catching his first name on one of the papers.
“- Please, Officer Choi… I really don’t want to go to jail, can’t you help a girl who made a mistake ?”
Seungcheol should say no, he should frankly say that he could do nothing about it, that you must understand why you shouldn’t do it again. But the way your fingers were slowly crawling up his arm made his brain malfunction.
“- I… I can’t do that. It’s illegal.”
It was as if he needed to mention the law because it was the only thing holding him back from giving in to your advances and letting you go. He felt guilty, the ring around his finger seemed like it was burning when he looked at your lips for a little too long.
“- But, please, I swear I won’t do it again !
- That’s still illegal, there are laws for a reason.”
You pretended to think for a moment as your hand rested on his shoulder, like a reminder of how naughty all the things going through his head at that moment were.
“- I’ll do whatever you want if you let me go, I can… Repay you in other ways…”
Seungcheol was so unprepared for your bold proposal that he barely even reacted when you dropped to your knees and crawled under his desk until you could settle in between his legs, looking up at him with your hands placed high on his thick thighs.
“- Let me do something for you, yeah ? And I promise you’ll never hear from me ever again.
- You… Get up, I can't… I can’t let you do that.
- Please, you won’t regret it, I swear.”
Your sugary sweet voice, your big doe eyes and the way your palm was already rubbing against the bulge deforming his crotch were slowly making his resolve crumble. The uniform was only making him hotter, your eyes roaming around the way the muscles of his biceps tensed as he gripped the armrest of his desk chair, his jaw clenching as his gaze got darker.
“- Please, Officer Choi… I’ll be good, I promise.”
All Seungcheol needed was one more of your begs in that whiny voice for him to give you the green light. A grin stretched out your lips as you pushed his uniform pants down enough to free his cock. You licked your lips at the appealing sight, his length heavy in your hands as you spat on him and started to stroke him at a quick pace, your eyes never leaving his. His lips were parted, his cheeks lightly dusted in pink, and his gaze was filled with lust as you stuck out your tongue to kitten-lick at his tip.
“- Fuck… Take it into your mouth.”
You smiled at him, your ego inflating because you did manage to make him completely give up on his morals. You didn’t make him wait any longer, pushing half of his hard cock in between your lips, slowly working on relaxing your throat enough to take him whole into your mouth. With every inch that met your eager tongue and your warmth, Seungchol's breath became more and more unheavy, the sight of you on your knees for him, doing your best to convince him when he still had the power to send you to prison was delicious.
“- Shit… You feel so good…”
His praise made you moan around his cock just as his tip hit the back of your throat, making you gag and drool even more. You knew that you could get him to let you go if you did good enough, you knew that by the time you would have made him cum, he was going to be unable to keep you there anymore. So you doubled your efforts, bobbing your head up and down as you looked up at the way his face contorted in pleasure, at the way his parted lips were letting out the prettiest groans. His hips bucked up into your mouth, making you whimper and gag again around him, tears welling up in your eyes.
“- I’m gonna need more than that to let you go, angel. But if you let me fuck your tight, little throat, I might say yes.”
You hummed in approval, bringing one of his hands to the back of your head, letting him tangle his fingers in between your strands of hair. He hesitated for one second - one second that let you enough time to swirl your tongue around his cock in a way that made it impossible for him to hold back anymore. He put your hair up in a messy ponytail, tugging on it to force his cock to the hilt into your throat. The loud gagging noises you produced as he thrusted forward again and again were drowned out by his loud groans and grunts of your name. He shouldn't love what was happening right now, he shouldn't love the way he was bruising your throat, he shouldn't love the way tears were running down your face and ruining your mascara. He shouldn’t but he loved it, he loved it way more than he thought he would.
Your nails were digging into his thick, muscular thighs as Seungcheol fucked your throat. You could feel his big cock throbbing against your tongue, could feel that he was close. And maybe you shouldn’t love how humiliating this all was, maybe you shouldn’t love the fact that you were about to make this married man cum into your mouth, maybe you shouldn’t love how rough he was, but you did. You did and it encouraged you to hollow your cheeks around him, giving him that last rush of pleasure he needed to shoot his load down your throat. You did your best to swallow his cum, letting go of his cock to take a deep breath.
And then, you looked up at Seungcheol to find him already looking at you. His thumb came down to swipe up against your bottom lip, gathering the remains of his release to push them back into your mouth, groaning at the way you immediately sucked on his finger, cleaning it off his cum. He patted your cheek, covering it in your saliva.
“- You really are a good girl. You can go.”
Seungcheol made a promise to himself to never ever think about you again, even if your big doe eyes were haunting him day and night. But when he saw you sitting in his office, your hands handcuffed, only a few weeks later, with that same sultry smile and that same lust burning into your eyes, he quickly locked the door behind him, and he stopped thinking as soon as your lips made contact with his cock again.
-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.
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Revenge, a Dish Served Colder than Snow || Young!Coriolanus Snow x Reader
GIF by @kvtnisseverdeen and divider by @firefly-graphics
A/n: I'd just like to say that this is not book or movie accurate whatsoever. Finnick is not even alive yet when Coriolanus was in his early 20s. I just really wanted to include him in this because he's hot and I love him. Also, lets just imagine he has been gone long enough that the next hunger games was about to happen.
Warnings: choking, swearing if there are others lmk
Wc:
P.t 1 P.t 2
Coriolanus Snow Masterlist
Previous
“Go fuck yourself Coriolanus,” You sneer at him as you turn around but was stopped when his hand takes a hold of your arm. “The fuck did you just say to me?” He scrunches his eyebrows, fury in his blue eyes. You shake off his grip, staring at him square on. “I said, to go fuck yourself. Or, if you find her, go fuck Lucy Gray!” You rage, spinning around and walking out of the bathroom.
Coryo stands there in utter disbelief at what had just happened moments earlier. The image of you causing a scene infront of everybody and that tribute from district 4, his hands roaming around your body shamelessly. He felt pure rage coursing through his veins as he slams his fist against the wall.
~
Coriolanus watched with curious eyes once he saw you enter the room. He hadn't seen you for a couple weeks after that day he came back and moaned out Lucy Gray's name while fucking you. Even under that masquerade mask, Snow could tell it was you.
His eyebrow quirks up when he notices a man by your side. "Who is that?" He points to the mysterious man beside you as Livia looks over to where he was pointing. A chuckle leaves her lips, "Jealous, snow?" She swirls the alcohol in her flute before taking a sip.
"That right there beside your dear y/n is none other than Finnick Odair," Livia wets her lips. "A tribute. From district 4," She continues as Coriolanus' eyes follow the two of you, Finnick's hand resting far too low on your back for his liking.
"What is a fucking tribute doing with her then?" He scoffs, leaning forward on his seat. "Has your time as peacekeeper in district 12 forgotten how much power Y/n has?" She looks at him as if he was an idiot. "She just vouched for him, convinced her daddy to let him stay with her." Liv shrugs.
Coriolanus lets out a scoff, "Are you jealous of a district boy? He is pretty handsome don't you think. A strong competitor for sure," She says before standing up and leaving Snow in his thoughts. A few minutes later, he gets up from where he was sitting and manoeuvres his body across the crowd of elitist members and other wealthy people of Panem.
"What are you doing here with him?" Snow pops a grape into his mouth as you pause your actions and look to him by your side. Of course he was going to be here. "And why do you care? Coriolanus?" You chastise, "Do not. Call me that," He mutters at you, a stern expression on his face as you smirk.
"Well, if you must know. I took a liking to the tribute and let's just say, gotten quite comfortable with each other," A smile makes it to your lips as you could see Snow visibly annoyed. "He's a fucking tribute-" "Oh isn't that rich coming from you, Snow?" You let out a laugh as you face him. "That's exactly what I thought when I questioned your intentions with Lucy-" "Y/n, don't" "And there you were. Moaning her fucking name while inside me!"
You harshly say as a couple people around pause to look at you both. Coriolanus could tell you had drunk a bit more than you could handle. "Y/n, let's talk somewhere else," He takes your hands, ready to pull you away. You yank his grip off of you.
"No! I'm not done!" Snow runs a hand down his face at your loud outburst. "I never knew that you could stoop so fucking low you know. First it was cheating so that your precious tribute would win, and then you go chase her in her district and-" You couldn't finish your sentence as Coriolanus lurches towards him, hand gripping the base of your neck as your look at him in horror.
He squeezes it enough to make you shut up and gasp slightly for air. The people around you gasp at what had just happened. "Shut the fuck up. Shut your mouth before I do something I will regret," He spat, his hand squeezing as he shakes you."Get off of her!" Finnick shouts, pulling Snow away from you as you hold onto him, your hand touching your neck.
You then push Finnick away before doing something that further fueled the fire inside Coriolanus. You bowed. Just like her. Exactly like how Lucy Gray bowed at the reaping ceremony. A few stifled laughs could be heard throughout the room as Coriolanus looks horrified. He gulps, loosening his tie as you smirk at him
Coriolanus quickly leaves the room, breathing heavily as he runs his hands through his hair. He didn’t know what took over him. But he saw red the second you mentioned Lucy Gray. He swore he never intended to harm you. But he couldn’t help it.
His pent up emotions from the past couple of weeks needing diffusing. And you were pretty darn good at pushing specific buttons within him. Coriolanus caught glimpse of your figure entering the bathroom, he follows you whilst looking around, making sure no one was around.
You stared at yourself in the mirror, tears brimming your eyes as you study your neck, already bruising from his iron like grip. You were horrified, shocked, and most of all hurt, by Coriolanus. He never once touched you with such violence and he always reassured you that he would never hurt you and here you were. Crying in the bathroom stalls.
Even after the events that occurred when he came back, you couldn’t stop thinking about Coryo. You just couldn’t help yourself. He was your first everything. You lean your hands on the counter as you drop your head, tears cascading down your cheeks.
Coriolanus immediately heard your cries the minute he’s close to the bathroom door. He pauses. Leans his ear against the door and lets out sigh before entering. His entrance caught you by surprise as you stumble back upon seeing his tall figure.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you.” He says, sadness and guilt laced in his tone as he looks at you in sympathy, his eyes flickering your neck where he caused damage. You refused to meet his eyes as you turn your head to the side.
“But you should know better than to publicly humiliate me infront of everyone-“ A loud scoff emits your lips as you turn to him. “Go fuck yourself Coriolanus,” You sneer at him as you turn around but was stopped when his hand takes a hold of your arm. “The fuck did you just say to me?” He scrunches his eyebrows, fury in his blue eyes. You shake off his grip, staring at him square on. “I said, to go fuck yourself. Or, if you find her, go fuck Lucy Gray!” You rage, spinning around and walking out of the bathroom.
Coryo stands there in utter disbelief at what had just happened moments earlier. The image of you causing a scene infront of everybody and that tribute from district 4, his hands roaming around your body shamelessly. He felt pure rage coursing through his veins as he slams his fist against the wall.
Before you walk through the door, you stop and turn to face him. His expression angry, his hands were bawled up into fists, the wall beside him had a whole where he punctured it with his hand. “Don’t ever try talking to me again, Coriolanus. I mean it. Or I’ll do something you’ll regret.” You conclude before turning back around and walking away.
Coriolanus Snow knew without a doubt that you were capable of so many things that would hurt him, and his reputation. And he did not need further damage. So he listened. Regret seeped into him every single day as he left you alone. He would always watch you from afar though, he loved you, there was no denying.
What occurred that day with Lucy Gray was a mistake, a mistake he wished he could take back more than anything.
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#fanfiction#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow fanfiction#lucy gray x coriolanus#the hunger games#hunger games the ballad of songbirds and snakes#tbosas imagine#tbosas#tom blyth imagine#tom blyth x reader#president snow#coriolanus snow angst#young president snow
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in losing grip, on sinking ships (you showed up just in time)
BUCKY BARNES X FEM!READER
summary: when the avengers pick up unusual activity, they realize that not all of hydra was destroyed. one unidentifiable face sends the team into a frenzy but bucky knows it. he could recognize those eyes anywhere.
warnings: heavy angst, one sided enemies-to-lovers-ish, hydra!assassin!reader, hurt/comfort, happy ending, brainwashing, trauma, guns & knives, fighting, implied kidnapping of reader when young, all the feels, misunderstandings, poor attempt at writing action
wc: 4.7k
a/n: sorry it’s been forever but i hope my fellow buckyluvrs are still here <3 i actually wrote this a long time ago but never got around to editing until recently so i guess you can say this is (from the vault) ? inspired by the idea: what-if there was another winter soldier and bucky finds himself in steve’s position this time trying to get you back to him. anyways, i hope you enjoy this one :)
Bucky’s life was a never ending montage of gunfire and bloodshed. It didn’t matter if he was under the clutches of someone else, he still lived through the wars—the lingering smell of smoke and tang of metallic forever ingrained in his senses.
And just when he thought it was finally over—a glimmer of peace at last—it comes and steals that dream away from him.
Like deja-vu, he’s looking at faces that were once responsible for his pain.
On the screen, three Hydra officers stare back at him. All faces identified by Tony’s system. Alive. Last seen in the outskirts of some small country in Europe. Irrelevant low ranking officials that had managed to survive the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D and have been hiding and secretly continuing Hydra’s mission underground ever since. Low officials or not, it was one too many.
Bucky freezes in his spot when Tony swipes the screen. The billionaire goes on a rant saying this particular face cannot be identified, which was according to Tony, bullshit because his face recognition system is the best in the world. The rest of the team is arguing and flipping through countless files and internet archives. But Bucky knows. He knows that face and those haunting eyes that he still sees in his dreams.
“Buck,” a voice calls out. “You know her, don’t you?”
He looks up at Steve from his spot, his best friend's face worried and all knowing.
One thing about Hydra was that they were always prepared. They had backups and multiple plans ready, or else how would two heads take its place when one was cut off? Unfortunately for the world, Hydra managed to make another deadly assassin, one whose work was so discreet and nimble that even intelligence didn't know they existed.
You were a ghost story that lived in the shadows of the Winter Soldier. You were another one of Hydra’s prize possessions—less known, but just as deadly.
With Steve’s comment, all eyes are now on Bucky. A pregnant pause fills the air and he gulps before he confesses, “I wasn’t the only one.”
The room becomes tense. The war that they thought was over suddenly looms over like an unpredicted oncoming storm. “Jesus Christ, Barnes. You couldn’t have informed us about her earlier?” says Tony.
“I thought,” he says, shifting his eyes onto the ground, “I thought she fell with S.H.I.E.L.D.”
Bucky couldn’t find you anywhere after he escaped their grasp. After he joined the Avengers, he tried once again secretly using Tony’s technology but it was to no avail—it always ended up being a dead end. And for that, he assumed Hydra had put you out of your misery the day they were caught.
But the face on the screen says otherwise. And suddenly, Bucky feels very guilty.
Steve clears his throat, “Well, they were picked up not too long ago heading north. If we leave now, we might be able to find them and stop them once and for all.”
Everyone looks at each other, debating on his proposal. “What the Captain said. Everybody, suit up. Quinjet leaves in ten,” says Tony.
On the jet, Bucky stares off into space but countless questions run through his mind.
Steve walks over and sits beside him. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asks, voice quiet.
Bucky sighs, “I just… I thought she was gone.”
“Hey, it’s not your fault. You didn’t know.”
He looks up, wondering if he should tell Steve the truth. That he’s not brooding about the fact that he concealed you to them. After a moment, Bucky speaks up. “When we get there, let me handle her. Please.”
Steve didn’t know what kind of history Bucky had with you. But judging from the look his best-friend is giving, it’s more than what Steve could understand or even comprehend but he trusts Bucky and so, he gives him a nod. “She’s all yours.”
After scouting the area and tracing the location to a very hidden underground warehouse in the middle of nowhere, they split up. The warehouse was dark and dusty, surely abandoned, but Bucky knew better—it was their facade behind the most sinister of activities. Through the comms, Natasha announces that she has already taken care of all the troops in the West wing. Moments later, Sam reports that he has eliminated one of the Hydra officers. They wouldn’t last long. Hydra didn’t have much resources or time to rebuild—their current empire was weak, they were no match for the Avengers this time.
The only person Bucky’s truly worried about is you. The fact that he trained you, made you into what you were today already gave him the chills. He’s not the Winter Soldier anymore, but he was certain that you were still in that killer mindset that Hydra forced upon you.
Step by step, Bucky walks through the quiet hallway, the echoes of his footsteps the only noise. It’s cold here, he notices, which gives him flashbacks to those days in his dirty cell and the cryostasis chamber. Down a hallway to the next, round a corner and another, there wasn’t a single soul in the eerily Eastern wing.
But he spoke too soon, because seconds later, a garrote wire was around his neck. The swift invisible steps and the perfect pressure that was being used to quickly cut off his air supply was all too familiar. He knows this move, he taught this move. You’re here, and you’re dragging him backwards.
Before all oxygen gets cut off to his brain, he jabs his elbow backwards and hits you hard on the rib which releases the hold you have on him and sends you stumbling back. Bucky takes a moment to regain his breath but you’re on your feet again. He looks at you and for a moment he freezes, then you let out a sinister grin. “Nice to see you again, Soldat,” you taunt, before running towards him.
Bucky’s deflecting your punches one after another. Maybe he’s glad he was the one who taught you everything you know because your moves were predictable—if it were another person, there is no doubt they would’ve been on the ground with multiple concussions bleeding out already. You’re ruthless when you do a triple roundhouse kick on him. On the fourth one, he manages to catch your leg and twists it, sending you to the ground with a groan.
How familiar this scene was, Bucky thinks.
Some forty-years ago, Hydra brought a woman into the training room. There was no further instruction than to train you and that’s what he did. He could tell you were well trained already—compliant and pliable. You were good. And you were just like him, injected with a serum that made you a hundred times more efficient and stronger. In just under a year, Hydra would start sending you on missions. Sometimes with him, sometimes alone.
During training, the both of you would spar for hours, leaving each other bloody and bruised, but it didn’t matter to the overlookers, the both of you would heal in a few hours anyways.
Once you pick yourself back up, he pulls a gun out on you. “Stop this,” he commands.
You smirk, “You going to shoot me, Soldat? I want to see you try.”
He clenches his jaw. You continue to look at him, a dark look on your face that shows no sign of true recognition.
His thoughts are disrupted when you tackle him onto the ground. You kick his gun away and pin his arms down as you straddle him. “I’m going to kill you,” you declare, “I’m going to put a bullet through your head.”
When he looks up at you, your eyes are full of rage. Bucky doesn’t know whether that’s the brainwashed version of you talking or the actual you talking—maybe both.
“What are you going to do after you kill me?” he says, irritated. C’mon, please recognize me. “This is all that remains of Hydra. Half the troops are already dead. One of your new leaders is dead. In a few hours, Hydra will be no more. What will you do after that? What are you going to do after you kill me?”
“What does it matter? You’re my mission. I’m going to finish it.”
He groans at your stubbornness that was identical to his Soldier persona.
He says your name slowly. “Get off. You can walk away from this.”
You frown, but he continues, “I know how you feel. You’re feeling helpless.” He clears his throat, “There’s someone behind this version of you. I want to talk to her.”
“What are you talking about?” you utter in annoyance. “Stop stalling.”
He says that name again, with calamity and care. You want to rip out his tongue.
“Let me talk to her. Please.”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about!” you shout, grabbing for the gun that’s strapped onto your waist. “Stop talkin–”
“I was in the cell next to yours. You liked the colour green. You were wearing white when we first met. You always wanted to visit Bucharest. You hated the leaky cold showers in the Siberian facility,” he rambles, trying to remember every single thing about you in a desperate attempt to get your attention so this version of you won’t shoot him in the face.
And for a moment, it works because your hand freezes on the grip of your gun. He takes that moment to flip you over, so you’re under him now, hands pinned above your head. He takes your gun and throws it behind him.
You snarl at him while trying to escape his grasp. “I know you’re under there,” he says. “Please, come through. Please talk to me.”
Your face scrunches in pain, not from him—he would never hurt you—but from the mental warfare that’s currently going on in your mind. You close your eyes as he speaks again. “Listen to my voice, you know me, don’t you? мой милая.”
My darling.
For a moment, your entire body tenses up and then you let out a painful breath. When your eyelids start to flutter open, he finally sees the eyes he came to know and rely on—eyes he came to love.
The both of you are looking at each other unblinking. A scene neither of you expected but always dreamt about.
You break the silence with a whisper of, “James?”
Bucky slowly nods at your disbelief. Finally, he thinks. But such respite doesn’t last long, because seconds later, you hook your foot under his and flip him over and escape his grasp.
There's darkness in your eyes and he can tell that the Soldate is back and the fighting resumes.
You’re chasing him down the twisting hallway and when you catch up, you grab his shoulder and throw a punch to his jaw. He stumbles back and then a voice comes through the comms.
“Just took down the second one.” Steve. “Bucky, how are you holding up? You’ve been quiet ever since we split up.”
He’s trying his best to block your hand, which now has a damn pocket knife. Your quick movements are starting to tire him out. Maybe he taught you too well, he thinks.
“Buck? Bucky. Confirm your status, right now.”
Groaning in frustration, he taps his earpiece. “I’m fine,” he grunts. A second later, “Shit!” he huffs out as you nearly slice his face.
“You don’t sound fine. Is she with you? I’m sending back up.”
“No!” he says, “Don’t send anyone. I can handle her.”
In truth, he’s struggling right now—your stamina has always been better than his—but he’s worried that you’re going to accidentally get hurt and even more agitated when people appear. His main priority was keeping you safe. Fuck the mission statement they talked about back on the Quinjet.
You’re angry—no, you’re extremely angry at him. It doesn’t take a genius to tell. It’s a mixture of pure rage from both the brainwashed and actual you.
He supposed he deserved it. You should be angry. Because for the longest time, it was you and him.
Other than turning you into a ruthless assassin just like him, an unexpected companionship also formed during those hazy in-between moments when the two of you weren’t frozen or on the metal chair getting fried by those machines—during the times when he was just Bucky and you were just you, two unfortunate innocent souls that shared the same suffering.
They weren’t pleasant moments. It was dehumanising. It was getting shoved into draughty cells with nothing but a blanket until it was time to train or time to embark on a mission. Luckily, your cells were next to each other and it made the endless nights a little more bearable. He was a little off-putting at first, but when he yelled at you to stop crying because they would torture you even more for it, you knew he meant well.
During your shared time together, glimpses of your true selves would seldom come up and you would tell each other about the little bits and pieces of a life once known. And the both of you would hold onto each other's memories and stories in case the other forgets.
And whenever they prep the two of you for the chamber due to there being no current missions for the time being, the two of you would look at each other—a look of longing with the secret squeezing of each other's hand before going under.
Despite the absolute awful situation the two of you were in at the time, the both of you were hopeful for the next shared moments together. Because even when all hope was gone, you had each other. And that was good enough for the two of you.
He misses you. So damn much.
“Shut up,” you mutter.
He didn’t even realise he said it outloud. “Well, I do,” he admits, his back hitting a wall.
“You talk too much, Soldat,” you say, creeping up on him. “I ought to cut your throat.”
“I’m sorry I left you with them.”
You halt in your steps and your jaw ticks. In a second, you pounce on him, your knife against his throat. He’s gripping your hand to stop you from continuing your job.
He says your name again. You’re pushing but he’s pushing back just as hard. “I’m sorry…” he repeats, “I’m so sorry.”
The desperation in his voice… You glance up at him slowly and he sees the pink forming in your eyes and your trembling lips. “What are you doing? What are you doing to me?” you whisper.
He sees the internal war behind your eyes once again. Bucky gulps for a moment before letting go of your hand, trusting that you won’t do any actual harm, and moves his hands so he’s cupping your face, firm enough so you’re forced to look at him. You look into his eyes for a second, then a minute, and for a moment, everything stops. Your breath hitches, because those eyes… those arctic blues… you know them. You fell in love with them many years ago.
A realisation washes over your face, one that Bucky doesn’t miss. You’re back.
The first tear falls. Then the second. “Bucky.”
“Hey, sweetheart,” he whispers.
You let out a small cry before you press the blade harder against his neck, your grip a vice from his betrayal. He could feel the sharp cold metal pierce through his skin ever so slightly, but he doesn’t try and stop you.
“Give me a reason to not kill you right now,” you grit through tears. “You left me. You left me behind to rot alone. You promised me. You fucking promised,” you say, voice laced with venom and so much hurt.
Bucky’s heart breaks at the sadness of your voice. Because he did promise. There wasn’t much to do in the cells other than throw around false hope. But whenever he told you he was going to escape one day and that he was going to take you with him—it didn’t feel like false promises at all because it wasn’t, and you knew it too.
Until he broke that promise and left you all alone.
“I didn’t mean to,” he says, voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to leave you there with them.”
“I waited for you,” you cry. “Day and night I waited for you to come back. Even when they relocated, I waited for you because I knew you’d find me.”
You remember that day clearly. Everyone was in a frenzy when the death of Alexander Pierce broke out and that they could not locate the Soldat. For a moment, you could taste your own freedom because government officials would come anytime now and finally arrest all these criminals. But right when they came, a few Hydra officers managed to escape and took you with them, and when you woke up, you didn’t know where the hell you were. But even then you didn’t lose hope because James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, the name you committed to memory, was going to come for you just like he promised.
Until days, months, and eventually, a year came with no sign of him.
You were angry at first, but it slowly turned into worry because what if something bad had happened to him? But what do you know? You were stuck in this building and only went out whenever they spoke those trigger words to you. And you were always under their watchful eyes, giving you no chance to even attempt an escape. Surely he would never break his promise to you so something must’ve happened to him, you told yourself multiple times.
But he was standing here right in front of you. Alive. We’re under attack, your handler said to you moments ago, Kill the Soldat before he kills you.
“You’re a liar. You never cared about me,” you hiss.
Sometimes, it got too much. But whenever reality was a bit too hard to endure, Bucky was there, always reaching his hand out to you through the metal cage, which you took and held tight. And it meant the world to you, that someone cared.
“All those moments, did it even mean anything to you?”
He uses this opportunity to pull your arms down slightly, knife finally away from his neck and his eyes start to sting from his own tears. “They meant everything to me. I care about you.”
You look up at him with a defeated expression and Bucky never wanted to punch himself in the face more. “Then why? Why didn’t you come back for me?”
“I did,” he chokes out. “When I escaped, the first thing I did was go back for you, but the facility had already been raided and there was no one there. I checked every inch of the building.”
Bucky had never felt so scared, because what if the government took you too? They would never understand—framing you as a villain even though that was far from the truth. But there was no news of your capture, so with a breath of relief, Bucky continued to look through other known Hydra facilities.
“I tried my best looking for you, but I also had to be careful because I was a wanted man at the time. When months passed by and there were no clues, I thought that maybe you had escaped. I was in Bucharest waiting for you. Remember how you said you always wanted to go there? I knew that if you escaped, you’d find me there. Even when you didn’t show, I never gave up. Steve… I think I told you about him once��he found me, he helped me and cleared my name. After that, I still searched for you but it all ended up being dead ends. And…” he pauses for a moment, “and so I thought you were dead. I should’ve tried harder. I’m sorry.”
He had mourned you and blamed himself endlessly for it.
He knows he should’ve asked for help, but instead, he took this task upon himself until it got too much—because that was the one thing he struggled with the most, asking for help.
When his side of the story finally comes to light, you break into a sob. “I don’t expect you to forgive me,” he says, “but please, drop the weapon and let me help you.”
You swallow hard at his confession. He never stopped looking for you. You didn’t even consider how hard it must’ve been for him after everything and yet you’re lashing out on him.
“How are you going to help me?” you say. “I’m a mess. All you have to do is say those words and I turn into a weapon.”
Twelve. Ember. Fragment. Nine. Academy. Order. Frigid. Yearning. Blue.
Those were your trigger words.
“I got you out of your trance, didn’t I?” he says with a gentle smile.
Hydra needed you to rebuild their empire and they relied on those nine words to do so. To them, those nine words were your greatest weakness but one of them, the last one, the one they liked to spit out in vexation, was also your greatest strength—your salvation.
Blue.
You think back, moments prior, when all he had to do was use his voice and all you had to do was look into the blues of his eyes. Hydra can repeat those words all they want, but Bucky would always be able to bring you back.
At that, your grip relaxes and the knife finally drops onto the floor, it’s noise ricocheting off the walls.
“There’s a place called Wakanda and I know someone there who can help you. Her name’s Ayo and she’s amazing. She helped me overcome my words.”
He brings his hands back up to cradle your face and you shutter at the familiar touch—at the calluses on his palms. “And I think you’ll like it there. It’s quiet and there’s so much… green.”
You let out a small laugh through your tears but doubt still fills your mind. “But… all the things I did,” you whimper, “I did such terrible unforgivable things. There’s… there’s so much blood on my hands.”
Sadness flares around his heart. It was all so familiar. He knows the feeling.
“It’s not going to be easy. God knows how long it took for me to believe that none of it was my fault. But let me be the first one to tell you,” he says, wiping your tears away with his thumb. “None of what you did was your fault. You were a victim.” He swallows a deep breath, “There are going to be days where it’ll be too much too bear and there are going to be nights where all those casualties will haunt you,” he admits. “But… but you’ll get there. Someday, you’ll learn to stop punishing yourself for something you didn’t do.”
And he vows that he’ll help you every step of the way.
You breathe out slowly, digesting all his words. “You can trust me,” he tells you, “I won’t let you down this time. I’ll be here.”
Blinking up at him, the small hesitant part of you so desperately wanted to say, “How can I trust you?” but his eyes were telling you everything you needed to know. Because it was filled with nothing but honour and truth.
He breaks away from you and reaches out his hand. An invitation. You stare at it for a while, then you slowly lift yours and brush your fingers amongst his before grabbing it tightly—a truce of sorts, a promise. He squeezes back in return, a loving smile on his face, just like all those nights many moonlights ago.
Your breath hitches when he pulls you into his embrace, your face burying perfectly into the valley of his chest. He wraps his arms around you in urgency, in fear, almost afraid you’ll slip out if he doesn’t.
“It’s over,” he mumbles into your hair.
Because two floors down an explosion erupts, finishing off the last remaining garrison of troops. Three hallways down, Natasha sets fire to a room that contained the other small red leather book that held those nine suffocating words written in Russian. Outside, the last Hydra officer attempting to flee falls to his knees from an arrow to the chest. And the only hope they had left to rebuild their regime was safely in Bucky’s arms.
He pulls away and uses his thumb to rub gently across your cheek, “It’s over. The war is finally over.”
Now that the worst is over, Bucky’s hopeful. There will be other conflicts to come, that was just how it worked, but this one, the one that held you and him underwater for years was finally over. War always took too much, but this time, it gave something back. Because among the ashes and ruins you came back to him, no more oceans in between.
“What do we do now?” you press nervously. You were taken at a young age and spent years in the Red Room before you were sold off to Hydra. Like Bucky, you’re in the wrong time period, there’s no one to go back to.
There’s so many things you could do, Bucky thinks. You can finally start living the life you deserved, the life that was taken from you too early. He’ll have to explain all this to his teammates but he knows they’ll understand. They treated him so well, there’s no doubt they’ll show the same kindness for you. Then, he’ll go with you to Wakanda, get rid of the words, maybe stay there for a while so you could heal—maybe show you the goats he took care of during his time there.
You’ll probably adjust to the 21st century better than him—you won’t need to start off with a flip phone, that’s for sure. He’ll make you listen to all the great records and watch all the movies you missed out on. There’s so many things he wanted to do with you. He knows you have no memories, no recollection. It didn’t matter, Bucky thinks, he would make new memories with you, ones worth cherishing and remembering. If you’ll have him, of course.
But first and most importantly, “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay? Then we can talk about it,” he says, rubbing the grime off your nose.
He grabs your hand and heads for the exit. But before he does, you pick up your knife from the floor and in one quick motion, you spin around and throw it. The knife embeds itself into the wall a few metres away, right next to a prying face. You stand in front of Bucky and stare at the intruder with a murderous gaze and Bucky’s heart races at the thought of you still wanting to protect him after everything.
The blond raises his arms up in surrender.
“Steve,” Bucky says from behind and you briefly recognize that name. You turn around to look at him and he meets your eyes, nodding. You relax your stance.
“Hi,” Steve says, voice slightly hoarse. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”
Bucky scoffs at him, as if he wasn’t eavesdropping the whole time.
Steve looks at the both of you, then a gentle smile adorns his face. “C’mon, the rest are waiting outside for you both.”
You step forward. This is it. Freedom. A new life. Bucky notices your hesitation as you suddenly stop in your tracks. Intertwining his fingers with yours, he squeezes with reassurance. You take a deep breath, then the two of you follow Steve to the exit, leaving behind the smoke and memories of your old life.
Outside, the sun comes up slowly but surely on the horizon, painting the awakening sky a gentle warm hue of oranges and pinks.
A new beginning awaits.
#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes imagine#bucky#bucky barnes
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home before dark (part six)
pairing rafe cameron x kook! female reader
rating mature 18+
summary as children, you and rafe were best friends, but then tragedy suddenly struck his family and he shut everybody out. years later, you need his help when a pushy ex-boyfriend won’t leave you alone. rafe is perfect for the job because everybody’s afraid of him. except for you.
content warnings stalker ex, violence, substance abuse, death and mourning of parent
» masterlist
· · ── ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ── · ·
Rafe didn’t have a drop of alcohol last night, yet he feels violently hungover this morning.
He stares up at the ceiling of your guest room, running on a few hours of broken sleep. He feels so exposed. Once he started talking to you, he couldn’t stop.
He was fine living an empty life. But then you walked back into it, completely unaware of how painful it is to be around you. But it feels so damn good, too.
Nonetheless, when he looks at you, he sees his doomed childhood, his lost happiness. He’s not sure the good will ever outweigh the bad. Especially because he’ll never be able to tell you the entire story. You’ll never completely understand why he is the way he is.
Maybe he shouldn’t have told you to leave last night. You were just trying to help. After so many instances of telling himself he’d stop brushing you away, he’d stop acting like your asshole of an ex, he did it again.
But telling himself he should do something and actually doing it are two very different things. Everything in this nonsensical world is easier said than done.
You’re making breakfast in your kitchen, your temples aching from the sadness that hasn’t left you.
Rafe wasn’t awake before you for once. You don’t know how you’ll face him. You feel just as powerless as you felt when you were ten, unsure of what to say to him or how to act around him.
He was in the car. It won’t stop clanging around in your head. He was with her the last minute she was alive.
And when you tried to hold him, to be there for him, he told you to go away. You know better than to attempt to get him to talk about it again.
“Hey.” Rafe’s deep voice pulls you out of your haze. You look up to see him standing by the far counter, then return your gaze back down to the pan. For once, you’re the one avoiding eye contact.
“Hey,” you reply. Your shoulders are stiff. You know he wants to leave. “Just a second.”
You pull the pan off the range and cross the kitchen, pacing to the front of the house. When you open the door and re-arm the security system, you step to the side, hand tight on the knob.
You will yourself to look up at him, meeting his blue eyes. He’s standing between you and the front step of your home, unmoving.
“Did you want to stay?” you ask. “Maybe have some breakfast?”
It’s like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff, taking another risk of rejection, expecting to fall but having a shred of hope that he’ll pull you to solid ground.
“I can’t.” He walks past you, a hard push off the edge. You’re disappointed. In him for denying you again. In yourself for thinking he wouldn’t.
You’ve always felt safe with him. But right now, while he’ll protect you physically, your heart isn’t even close to feeling whole. He’ll break it every chance he gets.
You spend your morning in a haze. You wish you could carry at least some of Rafe’s pain for him, but he’ll never fully open up to you. Last night, when he told you about the accident, he pushed you away the second you tried to comfort him.
After lunch, you realize you can’t handle being alone any longer. You text a friend and accept her invitation to hang out at her house.
Talking with your friend about everything but what’s been weighing on you is a welcome distraction for a couple of hours. Rafe is always at the back of your mind, but being with someone else helps ease the pain.
After you say your goodbyes, you walk down to the street where you parked. You notice a white paper rectangle tucked under your windshield wiper.
Your stomach drops. Normally, you’d assume it’s a ticket of some sort. That maybe you parked where you’re not supposed to. But you know that’s not what this is.
You pluck the paper from under the wiper and get into your car, trembling as you lock all the doors. You look around, terrified you’ll meet Ty’s stare.
But you’re alone. Nobody is around.
You rip open the envelope. On the top inner fold, in his messy writing: I always have my eyes on you.
Fear’s razor-sharp claws squeeze your insides when you pull out what’s in the envelope. Photos of you from the past few days. At the gas station. At the mall. At the pool.
Ty’s been following you. Taking pictures.
You lock your doors again, even though you know you already did. You’re at a loss for what to do. Where to go.
Just walking up the driveway back to your friend’s house is daunting. And going home to an empty house is just as scary.
So, you go to the one person you know will take away the fear. You drive, park, and find his name in your phone.
Rafe is sitting on the balcony leading out of his bedroom when his phone starts buzzing. He sees your name on the screen and scrambles to answer as fast as possible.
“You okay?” Rafe says.
“No.” Your voice is shaky. “No. He’s been following me.”
“Where are you?” he asks, standing and rushing to find his keys.
“I’m in front of your house.”
“Good,” he says. He tucks his gun into the band of his jeans. “Good. It’s okay. I’ll be right down.”
Rafe spots your car at the end of his driveway. When his eyes find you, he’s sure he’s never seen someone look so shell-shocked. He tugs at the passenger door handle a few times before you catch on that you need to unlock it.
He settles in the seat next to you, brows furrowed in worry, watching you stare ahead at your steering wheel.
“I don’t even know how I - I drove here,” you stutter with a humorless laugh. You’re in a fog.
“What’d he do?” he asks.
Your eyes dart down to the ripped open envelope in your cup holder. Rafe grabs it and leafs through the photos. Anger climbs up his body in half a second.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters.
“He left it on my car,” you say.
You can’t let Ty do this to you anymore. You’re not above wishing Rafe would beat him within an inch of his life. You want to fight back in every possible way you can. You want him to lose.
“I think this is enough to go to the police,” you breathe. “I need a restraining order or something. I can’t just watch this happen. I mean, I have enough evidence of - of stalking, right?”
Saying the word out loud is what finally breaks you. The tears you’ve been pushing down rush up without any mercy. You start to cry quietly, your chest heaving.
“Listen to me,” Rafe says softly. “He’ll pay for this.”
All he can feel is a burning urge to protect you. To make sure you never feel this way again. He’s not leaving your side for a minute.
You sense Rafe’s hand on your knee. It’s like you’re watching this happen to someone who looks and sounds like you because he can’t possibly be happening to you.
“You want me to drive?” he asks.
You nod, tears rolling down your face, unbuckling your seatbelt.
You watch Rafe’s knuckles turn white as he drives your car down the street. You ask him to stop at your house to grab the letter Ty left for you, glad you didn’t throw it out in haste, and arrive at the police station carrying the proof of your ex’s incessant hounding.
Rafe tucks his gun under the seat before going inside.
The building is dingy. You approach the front desk, locking eyes with the man sitting behind a computer, his uniform dull and washed out.
“Can I help you?” he asks.
“I need to file a restraining order,” you say. The words feel odd coming out of your mouth.
The officer hands you a sheet of paper on a clipboard and a pen, instructing you to come back up to the desk after you fill it out.
It’s vile. You’re scared for your life and in response, a stranger hands you a form.
The waiting room is empty. You and Rafe settle in the worn, ripped up leather seats. You look down at the words in front of you, your hands trembling.
“Here,” he says, taking the clipboard and pen from you. You’re too shaken up to focus.
You watch Rafe write your full name at the top. Your address. Your date of birth. He remembers it all.
Then, he drags the pen over every box that applies to you.
The defendant and I are persons who are in or have been in a romantic relationship. He marks it with an X.
The defendant has inflicted emotional distress on me. X.
I want the Court to order the defendant not to assault, threaten, follow or harass me. X.
I believe I am in danger of serious or immediate injury.
Rafe looks to you.
“Not when you’re around,” you say honestly. “But you can check it.”
When Rafe comes across the blank sections, he sniffs in unease before reading the instructions out loud.
“Give specific dates and describe in detail what happened,” he recites. He doesn’t want to hear this. “Just talk. I’ll write.”
You go through it all from the beginning. The aggressive text messages. The in-person threats. The email. The letter. The photos. Rafe writes it all down. His stomach turns as he listens to you recount it all.
You take the clipboard to record what’s left: Ty’s contact information.
You drop the form off at the front desk and sit back down. Rafe watches you blankly stare ahead, your knees anxiously bouncing.
“It’s gonna be okay,” he mumbles. You nod, unconvinced.
“We can grant you an emergency protective order,” a police officer tells you after taking you and Rafe to a private room. “There’ll be a court hearing within ten days. You need an attorney to represent you and to help prove that the letter and photos are from him.”
“Okay,” you say. The old man across the table is speaking like he’s talking about something boring, like the weather.
“So, wait - are you saying - he can just walk around free until then?” Rafe asks.
The officer looks at Rafe, his face emotionless. Then he looks at you again.
“The defendant will be informed about the temporary order and he’ll be told not to contact you,” he responds. “If he violates the terms, you need to let us know. But a judge will determine if a permanent order should be granted. It’s up to them to decide if this person is a danger to you.”
“Are you kidding?” Rafe shuffles in his seat, shaking his head. “Someone’s gonna tell him to stay away from her and - and that’s it? Until a judge maybe makes it official?”
“That’s the way the law works,” the officer says.
“The law is bullshit.”
“Reconsider your tone, young man,” the cop warns.
Rafe scoffs, like he’s taking it as a challenge. You’re frustrated that the man is being so cold about this, but Rafe’s hostility isn’t helping.
“Rafe,” you say, placing your hand on his forearm. “Can you wait for me outside?”
He meets your eyes. He realizes he’s stressing you out. Times like these, he hates his temper.
Rafe has been standing by the front doors of the building for five minutes when you come out, your arms crossed.
“I didn’t mean to…” he mutters. “He was just so goddamn casual about the whole thing-”
“It’s okay,” you say. “I know.”
You still feel like this is a nightmare you’re waiting to wake up from. Your parents are overseas for work, totally oblivious to what’s happening. You need to call them. How the hell do you even deliver this kind of news?
“Did he say anything else?” Rafe asks as you make your way to your car.
“He just told me I should get a lawyer as soon as I can,” you say. “I found one in the area and I called her office. I have a meeting with her tomorrow.”
You’re still shaky and you’re glad Rafe is heading for the driver’s side without you having to ask him. You settle in your car, locking yourselves in silence.
He’s not starting the engine. He’s just looking at you. You meet his eyes and try not to think about last night.
“You’re scared,” he says. Your eyelids flutter. You are scared. The last twenty-four hours have been a mess.
Rafe wallows in the feelings of failure and self-pity. He’s supposed to make you feel safe and he’s fucking it up. You look terrified.
“I’m not gonna leave your side, alright?” he says. “I’ll make sure you’re never alone until he stops. And he will stop.”
Normally, you’d ask him if he can really take that on. But you have to ask yourself if you can take it on first. Being around someone who’s committed to keeping you at a distance is starting to wear on you. But this all started so he’d keep you safe. Whether you can handle it or not, you will.
Rafe grimaces when you don’t respond. Maybe he’s not enough. Maybe you need to feel like you have the power to keep yourself safe, too.
“I’m teaching you how to use a gun,” he decides.
“What?” you say. You can’t have heard him right.
“You won’t be scared if you know how to protect yourself,” he says. Then he shoves the key into the ignition and drives to his house to swap to his bike.
You cling onto Rafe as he drives his motorcycle along the coast. He approaches a clearing in an overgrown field. You can understand why he changed vehicles when you feel how choppy the terrain is. He navigates over the grass and stops under a tree.
“How do you even know about this place?” you ask once he kills the engine and you take off his helmet.
Rafe doesn’t want to admit that he passes by this barren corner of the island several times a month to pick up coke from his dealer. That he’s been here to shoot at nothing multiple times before.
“Just do,” he says. “Come on.”
You swing your leg off his motorcycle, wishing you didn’t feel the loss of his touch as deeply as you do.
When Rafe leads you deeper into the clearing under the cloudy afternoon sky, the road now out of sight, he pulls his gun out of the back of his jeans. It’s unreal watching him adjust the weapon in his hands, how casually he’s handling something that could kill a person.
You look over your shoulder, wondering if Ty is hiding somewhere. Will you always be on edge like this, worrying his eyes are on you?
You glance back at Rafe.
“Where’d… you learn?” you mumble. “To use it.”
Rafe looks up at you. Your eyes are wide. Maybe this was a bad idea.
He was being impulsive when he suggested this. He forgot how you looked at him when you noticed his gun at the party a few nights ago. He’s supposed to be making you feel safe. But you look freaked out.
“If this is a bad idea, we don’t have to do this,” he says. “I was-”
“No,” you interrupt. “You’re right. I’ll feel better knowing I can defend myself if it… if it comes to that.”
The thought sends a chill through your body. You try to shake away your fear.
“I was just wondering,” you say.
“I taught myself,” Rafe admits.
“How come?”
His jaw clenches.
“I told you, sometimes I get pissed off and…” He tries to bring down the sharpness of his tone. “This helps. It feels good. You’ll see.”
You can tell just how heavy his soul is as you watch him focus, sliding the magazine of the gun in and out. You wonder how many times he’s come out here, running towards a twisted form of solace.
You get it. You don’t know how you’d react if what happened to him happened to you, but you doubt it’d be very different from this. You’d be angry at the world, too. You’d want to take it out any way you can.
Rafe steps closer to you, opening the chamber, every column in it filled.
“It’s loaded,” he tells you. “You can see the bullets here. Safety’s on.”
He closes the chamber and offers the gun to you. It’s heavy in your hand as he rounds to stand behind you.
“You see that tree over there?” he says, his voice low. You follow his finger to see a tall, broken stump in the distance. It looks like it was hit by lightening and torn in half.
“Yeah,” you say.
“Aim at it,” he instructs you. “Use both hands. It’ll have some kick.”
You’re tense as you raise the gun towards the tree. You have one hand wrapped around the grip of the gun and tuck the other underneath the barrel.
“Like this,” he mumbles. His arms encircle you, his chest firm against your back. Your breath catches as he rests his hands over yours. He guides your left hand closer to your right, adjusting your fingers to spread wider.
“Safety’s on,” he reminds you. “Just get used to the feeling, alright?”
“Alright,” you say.
His forefinger settles over yours, pushing down on the blocked trigger.
“This is where you press down,” he says. You nod against him.
Rafe’s trying not to notice how nice your shampoo smells. The way your body feels enclosed in his. The fact that his heart started racing the second he gets close to you like this.
“You ready for me to turn off the safety?” he asks you, zeroing in on the reason he’s here. You nod and in seconds, the loaded gun in your hands is completely unguarded.
“It’ll be loud, okay?” he mumbles. You feel his warm breath against your cheek. “You don’t have to be scared. You have all the power here.”
You feel like you haven’t had any power in a long time. You take a few breaths before you pull the trigger. The bang is ear-splitting and force is hard, jolting your arm, sending the bark on the tree flying within a second. You actually hit your target.
You lose your stability, hands loosening beneath Rafe’s. He quickly pulls the gun back and turns the safety on again.
“Shit,” he says amusedly. “You did it.”
You’re in disbelief that you’re doing this and that it kind of felt good. You turn to look up at Rafe, who’s towering behind you.
Your eyes are locked as you stand together in the desolate patch of unkept greenery. You’re silent now and so is he, your breaths in unison.
“Feel better?” he finally asks.
“Yeah.”
Rafe has spent so long harboring hatred for everyone, including himself. But as he drinks in your features and the way they come together so beautifully, he’s sure he doesn’t hate you and never has. How could he when you look at him like this, like you’re expecting the best from him after all he’s done is disappoint you?
Just like last night, the words come rushing out of Rafe’s mouth. He’s getting worse at keeping them in around you. It’s still uncharted territory, so he’s struggling to find out how to say exactly what he’s thinking.
“I don’t…” he says. He starts over. “You should be… happy. I mean, you shouldn’t have to be dealing with all this.”
You chew on your lip. He’s right. Nobody should have to suffer like this, scared of a maniac who won’t leave them alone, who seems to find pleasure in inflicting fear.
Rafe hates that you’re fighting for your own comfort. You deserve to live in ease.
“Thanks,” you say. You gaze into his eyes, wishing they didn’t see what they saw when he was ten years old. “I want you to be happy, too.”
Rafe’s lids drop, his sharp jaw tightening as he grinds his teeth. He can’t cry in front of you. Not again.
“Give it another try,” he says, handing the gun back to you after turning off the safety. You take it in steady hands, aiming at the tree. He doesn’t hold you this time.
After a few seconds of concentration, you pull the trigger and miss. Then you try once more. You hit your target. You can’t imagine ever using this on a person. But if it comes down to it, to your life or Ty’s, you’re picking yours every time.
You lower the gun, realizing your breaths are faster now.
“I think that’s enough,” you say, your stare still fixed ahead. You feel Rafe slowly take the weapon out of your hands again, his fingers brushing yours.
“You wanna go home?” he asks.
“Yes.”
Without another word, you head back to your house, feeling Rafe’s heart thudding against your palm as you cling onto him on his bike.
Rafe waits in the front room while you try to call your parents. Neither of them answer, likely asleep in their timezone.
You put your phone away, looking defeated. He said he wouldn’t leave your side and you couldn’t be more grateful.
“I’ll try again in the morning,” you tell him. “You can just make yourself at home. There’s food in the fridge. I’m gonna go lie down.”
Rafe nods, his elbows on his knees as he sits forward on the couch, as if he’s ready to strike any threat that might come your way.
You stand and cross the space, then breathe out a slow exhale when you reach the end of the room, your hand on the edge of the wall.
“Thank you,” you say quietly, glancing back at him. “I know it’s hard for you to be around me. My parents will fly back after I talk to them and you won’t have to do this anymore.”
You round the corner, leaving him with his thoughts.
It’s not until after sunset that you come back downstairs, feeling trapped in your own home. Rafe is where you left him, scrolling on his phone, surely bored.
“Hey,” you say. You got a text from a friend a few minutes ago about a party at a house down the street. “You wanna get out of here?”
More people are drunk than sober when you arrive at the party, the music and chatter almost deafening. Rafe is brushing through the crowds in front of you.
You spot your friends on the other side of the room and find some relief in seeing people you know actually want to be in your company.
You tug at his shirt to get his attention. Rafe turns and leans down to hear you over the music.
“I’ll be with my friends,” you tell him. He pulls back, confusion in his stare.
“You sure you should go on your own?” he asks.
“You’ll be close, right?” you say.
Rafe shuffles in place, looking tense before he leans over to speak again.
“I’m fine being around you, okay?” he says, thinking about what you said back at your house. “If that’s what this is about.”
He’s fine. You don’t miss the coldness of his words. He’s simply fine being around you, while you ache for him when he’s gone.
“I don’t want to just be… tolerated,” you confess. “I’ll stand over there and I won’t move.”
“Aren’t we supposed to pretend we’re together?” he asks, suddenly desperate to feel you. He offers his hand. You look down at it.
For the first time, you don’t want to touch him. Because you’re so painfully aware that this is all a farce. Because you went through so much today that keeping up appearances feels ridiculous.
When you don’t take Rafe’s hand, the sting of rejection pools through him.
“I don’t care about fooling him anymore,” you say. “We don’t have to keep lying to everyone.”
You offer him a sad smile and brush past him. Your friends’ faces fall when they see you. That’s when you know you’re wearing your anguish for everyone to see.
You stand against the wall, alert and sharp-eyed in case Ty shows up. Maybe he won’t. Maybe the police scared him from even risking being in the same room as you.
He doesn’t seem to be here. But you’re drained of all hope a mere half-hour later when you suddenly see your ex in the crowd. When his gaze meets yours, his lips thin in anger.
Like an animal charging towards its prey, he rushes towards you, shoving past people. You look around and feel overwhelming relief when you see Rafe’s profile locked on Ty as he scrambles to get to him.
“You went to the fucking police?” Ty shouts, rushing towards you.
Even over the music, you can hear the sound of Rafe’s fist making contact with Ty’s jaw. The crowd quickly scatters, shouts erupting as they clear out the space.
Everyone runs away but you. You step forward, watching in disbelief as Rafe leans over, one hand on Ty’s collar, the other delivering blow after blow.
Rafe’s knuckles ache with every punch as Ty lies on the ground, absorbing every strike, slack-jawed. He sees red. Every punch is harder than the last.
“Don’t follow her, don’t talk to her, don’t even fucking look at her!” Rafe yells. “Do you hear me?”
Pure rage fills his veins as he takes everything out with his fist. Every reason he’s so painfully angry. The misery you’re going through. The loss he feels every single day. The fact that people like this get to live when his mother doesn’t.
“Rafe, that’s enough, man!” you hear. You watch two of Rafe’s friends pull him off. He scrambles to get out of their grip.
You can see Ty clearer now. His face is covered in blood, his head rocking side to side.
You turn to see Rafe is pinned against the wall, a third friend now holding him back. His jerks to get free are violent and frantic. Until he sees you.
You look shattered. He stills. You close the distance.
“Let’s go,” you say, unable to recognize your own voice. “Please.”
Rafe’s friends look at each other, never having seen him settle down so quickly. They loosen their grip off of him and he hurries to you, his body curving over yours in an effort to shield you from everything that just happened.
As you rush out of the party, Rafe’s hand is pressed at the small of your back. You’re glad it is, because you’re not sure you’d be able to handle anything without him keeping you steady right now.
When you make it home, your heart is still pounding in your ears. In the moonlight, you noticed how bloody Rafe’s knuckles were as he drove, so you impulsively lead him to the closest bathroom on the first floor of your home.
He doesn’t realize what you’re doing until you turn on the faucet, checking the temperature of the water before you take his hand in yours and wash off the evidence of the fight.
Blood starts to pool down into the sink in a spiral. It wasn’t that long ago you watched Rafe cleaning himself up like this at his house the night he agreed to pretend to date you.
You turn off the tap and take a hand towel, gently dabbing his swollen knuckles. Rafe watches you, the way your face twists in concentration, his lips parted as he breathes heavily.
“I’m not hurting you, am I?” you ask.
“No,” he says.
You’re not thinking straight. You’re doing this because you feel like you owe him for making Ty pay for what he’s been doing to you, but it’s better not to be touching like this. Not when you know it’s a matter of time before he goes back to being a stranger.
“I guess you can do this yourself,” you say nervously. You hold out the towel for him to take with his good hand.
Ever since Rafe fell into this destructive pattern of fighting, he did this part on his own. Cleaning himself up, dealing with the ache, breathing through the residual adrenaline. Nobody ever took care of him like this. He never let them.
Really, he never let you. Because you were the only one holding out a hand while everyone else watched him drown.
“Can you?” he mumbles. You look up at him, puzzled. He always rejects your offers to help. But not now.
“You want me to?” you say. Your voice is brittle, echoing in your small bathroom.
His eyes are soft, as soft as they were when he was a boy, and he nods.
You continue to press the towel against his knuckles. You look at his hand, thinking about the way you watched it write for you earlier today, recording every detail of the torment you’ve lived through over the past few weeks.
What would’ve Ty done if he got his hands on you tonight? And how could Rafe think so low of himself, call himself a psycho, say he fucks everything up, when he could be the only reason you’re alive right now?
“You okay?” he mumbles. You look up, realizing he’s watching you and can see the anxiety etched into your expression.
“The court order didn’t work,” you respond. “It didn’t scare him. It’s a good thing you were there. Thank you.”
Rafe has never felt sure about his place in the world. Not after his loss. But the sense of purpose that taking care of you has given him, the feeling of being told it was good he was somewhere, is unlike anything else.
He flexes his throbbing hand, your words from earlier tonight rattling in his mind. The insinuation that he tolerates you. It’s wrong. It may bring back bad memories to be around you, but it’s not like he’s merely putting up with you, like he’s eager to get rid of you.
“Should I get you ice?” you offer.
Rafe doesn’t answer. He only stares at you.
“I don’t just tolerate you,” he says after a moment, his voice rough.
Your heart aches. Tears prick your eyes. You inhale slowly, your face crumpling with sorrow.
“What is it?” he says.
“I can’t… You told me not to talk about it.”
Rafe chews on the inside of his cheek. He can tell how much it’s been hurting you, how much you’ve been yearning to have this conversation.
“Say it.”
You look down, so overwhelmed that it hurts, accepting his invitation.
“What happened to you was… I don’t have the words. I never did,” you whisper. “It changed you but I can still see parts of who you were before. You’re a good person. Maybe you don’t think so, but you never stopped being good. You asked me why I care about you. That’s why.”
Rafe is speechless. Everything in him is urging him to walk away from you again. The closer he gets to you, the more it hurts. The more it reminds him.
He ignores the impulse to leave. He lets you keep talking.
“And I understand why you shut me out. You were grieving. I’m just so… so, so sorry.” You know it’s a risk to say, but this might be your only chance to tell him. You take a breath. “She’d be so proud of you, Rafe. I know it.”
You stare up at him through your lashes. Finally, you’ve said everything you’ve been wanting to say to him for years.
To hear someone he trusts telling him his mother would be proud of the man he’s become, even when he always feels so angry and rotten and broken, gives Rafe an overpowering sense of relief.
Then, it creeps up on him, the way he can’t bear that he survived and she didn’t. She should have stayed alive. Why did he deserve it? Why didn’t she?
You watch Rafe’s face fall, brows pinching, eyes starting to gleam with tears. Seeing him cry because of what you just said is a punch in the gut.
You should give him space. It’s what he always wants. But just in case he needs any of the comfort you can offer him, you give into your impulse to touch him. At this point, it’s senseless to fight it.
You drape your arms over his shoulders, bringing him close to you, squeezing him into a hug. When he doesn’t return your embrace, you start to retreat, but then you feel big hands drag up your waist, pulling you back in.
Rafe digs his head into the crook of your neck. His body starts to tremble with his cries. And finally, he surrenders himself to you completely.
(part seven)
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#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron and you#rafe cameron and reader#rafe cameron and y/n#rafe cameron fanfiction
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science class [e.w]
pairing: loser!ellie x cheerleader!reader
summary: when a new cheerleader arrives at ellie's college, face all dolled up and skirt-clad hips swaying, she all but wants to die.
warnings: smut, 18+ mdni, poc friendly, smoking, bottom!ellie, dom!fem!reader, tribbing, cunnilingus, nipple play, sorta thigh riding, overstim ‼️, ellie comes like five times
wc: 3.6k
top notes: I like accidentally made ellie sort of autistic but it's not my fault okay. also when I was writing this I was thinking abt how if this was a novel the reader would be black but I'm white so idk if I can like write that without like getting something wrong but sorry anyway
sometimes ellie wished she was blind. she wished that she couldn't see pretty girls, because maybe then she wouldn't fall in love with everybody. especially you.
she was two weeks into her sophomore year of college when you showed up. immediately blinded by your beauty, she almost tripped down the hallway as you walked past, in a short little skirt, and a white shirt. your ponytail flicked as you walked by, meeting up with someone you knew already.
she knew she was fucked.
when she arrived at her class, she was astounded to see that you were sitting in the seat next to hers, chewing gum and typing on your computer with cute blue light glasses on. like it was nothing. like her world wasn't crashing down in front of her.
standing in the corner of the lecture room, she debated moving seats. there were plenty of open ones, but you chose the one next to her? how was she supposed to survive this class with a pretty girl next to her, observing everything she does?
the answer is, she wasn't going to.
she was simply going to perish from the sight of you, from being in your presence, because she certainly didn't deserve to be and-
"ellie, would you please sit down? you're creeping me out." her teacher said, and she shifted nervously, then sped to her seat with her gaze trained at the floor. "okay, let's dive in, shall we?"
and the lecture continued. like you weren't right there. she couldn't understand why everyone in the world wasn't looking at you right now, absolutely entrancing, the way you took cute aesthetic notes and reapplied your shiny clear lip gloss.
"ellie?" you said, hoping she truly answered to that. she turned, meeting your eyes with a nervous smile and rosey red cheeks. "hi. I'm y/n. I just wanted to tell you that I like your sweatshirt."
it was a ratty old thing that joel had given her years ago, with a faded queens logo and a hole in the armpit that she had to sew back together every time she washed the poor hoodie.
"it's nice to meet you," she said quietly, tucking back a piece of hair that had fallen into her face. she realized how strange she must've looked and stopped quickly, "my dad gave it to me when I was like 11. I've had it forever."
you giggled. you just fucking.. giggled. "you aren't one of those people who just wears it because it's cool though, right?" ellie shook her head violently.
"no, I love their music. I wish I was born in the eightees so I could've listened to them live and.. yeah. I really like them." she turned away from you ever so slightly, nervously over talking and terrified that she was embarrassing herself.
"hey, you're good. I wish I was too. my favorite song is probably back chat, but keep yourself alive is a close second. how about you?" and you let this loser girl next to you talk. and talk. and talk.
ellie didn't know that you were intrigued by her demeanor in every way. from the stickers on her lap top to the patches on her backpack, every detail about her you noticed. you observed the way she warmed up to people and let you strike up a conversation with her about anything once you knew her. and it was... cute. really fucking adorable.
ellie's life only got a million times harder after that. to add to her series of neverending death sentences, she now had to see you in your perfect makeup and effortless outfits everyday. instead of just showing up to class, you insisted on talking to ellie. about everything. cheer, your friends, some dude that was hitting on you.
and on top of that? she saw you in the hallways, or on campus and you smiled. waved, even. some days you even talked to her. in public. you weren't afraid to be friends with her. and though she had jesse and dina, she still had very little social experience, and you were like a breath of fresh air.
on a chilly wednesday afternoon, ellie was walking to the building that your class had been in, and caught a glance of some other lesbian couple on campus. that settled it. she was going to ask for your number today, it wasn't like she was proposing marriage. just something simple. easy.
"can I have your number?" she interrupted you mid-sentence. and you smiled. of course you fucking smiled. she prepared herself for the notorious rejection, after hearing rumors of you rejecting everyone that came up to you and asked for your socials we. she wasn't just anyone, though.
"duh, you only took forever to ask." ellie was frozen in place. had you wanted her to ask? couldn't you have asked for hers? but before she could overthink too much, you were shoving your phone in her face and ellie was putting her number in. "anyway, as I was saying.."
ellie tuned out what you were saying, purely by accident. there were too many big events going on in her life for her poor brain to handle. the love of her life just agreed to give her their number, and she was plotting her route to dina's dorm as quickly as possible to tell her everything.
"holy shit dina," she huffed, running her hands through her hair. "I asked for her number so she gave it to me, and we talked! dina, we talked. about things. I already have our life planned out. we're gonna have two kids and a dog, she'll be a stay at home mom, because I'll do everything for her. I would kill for this girl, dina." dina was unimpressed.
"you are such a loser, els. has anyone told you that before?" she wasn't a loser, she was just incredibly and obsessively in love with you. ellie rolled her eyes. "I say make a move. you never know what could come of it."
"I can't," she sighed, trying to find words. "I can't just make a move, what if she doesn't like me? what if she thinks I'm weird?" she frowned.
"you are weird. if she doesn't like you like that, then fuck her. maybe start with being friends?" ellie nodded. she thought you guys were already friends, but technically you never hung out outside of class, and you hadn't really texted that much (she got your number today, but that hardly mattered).
"should I invite her to jesse's on friday?" dina rubbed the back of her neck. jesse was in a frat, one of the largest on campus that had absolutely wild parties on the weekends, which weren't exactly the best place for first dates. but to ellie... smoking and drinking around hot people in a random basement? amazing.
"if you think she's into that, I'm not gonna stop you." ellie was up and out of dina's apartment quickly, biking back to the dorms and planning out everything that was going to happen on friday.
- - -
in ellie's defense, she overslept. she wasn't thinking much about grabbing a jacket when she was already going to be ten minutes late, so when she stopped outside and the cool air hit her like a brick, she was less than prepared. but it hardly mattered. today was the day she was going to invite you to jesse's party, so her stupid jacket was like a blip on her radar.
"ellie, you're turning blue." you said, once ellie stumbled into her seat next to you. she was in nothing but a loose fitting tee-shirt and jeans, nothing to protect her petite figure. you hadn't noticed before how toned her arms were, but you certainly did now.
"I'm fine, it-it-it's not that cold." her teeth chattered as she stealthy tried to rub her hands over her arms to create friction.
"ellie, baby, I have an extra sweatshirt," you giggled when her eyes widened, grabbing the sweatshirt and handing it to her. "wash it and return it to me whenever." it was a bland black sweatshirt, but it matched your outfit, and you were more than happy to give it to ellie.
ellie who was most definitely going to pass out. she was probably just cold. it wasn't because she could smell your perfume on your hoodie that you just handed her. like it was nothing. she was going to fall out of her chair, onto the floor, and die.
"thanks," she pulled it over her head and sunk into it. "I'll give it back next class- what are you doing on friday?" she tried to get her thoughts straight while you looked at her with an adorable smile.
"I'm actually packing up and leaving, I dropped out," ellie's face fell, "oh ellie you're face," you laughed hard, and her expression softened. "but I'm not doing anything. why? wanna ask me out?" ellie was definitely blushing hard.
"my friend jesse is having a party at his frat on friday, do you.. do you maybe wanna go?" you tilted your head and looked away, as if you actually needed to think about it.
"hm, I guess I can fit that into my schedule." ellie released the breath she was holding and looked down at her hands for a moment before meeting your eyes again.
"uh that's great. it's kappa alpha, at nine. I would pick you up but I don't have a car,"
"how about I pick you up? what's your dorm number?" ellie texted you all the details, and it was settled. you were going on a date. together. in two days, and you were driving. ellie was on cloud nine- not even, cloud fucking ten.
- - -
"hey els," you giggled as she opened her dorm door. "oh, you look so cute! I'm definitely stealing this from you." you pushed a piece of hair behind her ear and messed with the corner of her collar, attached to a red flannel.
"oh thanks... it's yours if you want it." you knew if you asked she wouldn't ever have you give it back, maybe even give it to you right now. she stepped out of her room and shut the door, then followed you down the hallway.
"so who's this jesse kid? I hear a lot about him." you asked, turning on the engine and pulling out of the parking lot. the frat was on the other side of campus and ellie planned on walking? laughable.
"I really don't know him that well, he's dating my friend dina. he's a big stoner, but he's not super into the party scene. just goes 'cause the frat does." her eyes were trained out the window, not because she didn't want to listen to you, but because she was insatiably nervous.
"nice, nice." you paused for a moment. "are we gonna dance together or what? gonna save me a slow dance?" the tips of ellie's ears turned red.
"because I have such a roster." she joked, rolling her eyes. she would save every dance for you.
"perfect. is jesse's weed good?" she shrugged.
"it's okay. not as good as mine, and his plug is kinda shitty. whatever, it works. we're here." you pulled the car to a stop against the curb, in awe at how many people were coming in and out of the house.
ellie desperately needed to get high. maybe then she could talk to you like a normal person, not like she was trying to brush you off. when she found jesse, he was talking to dina and brushed her off. with a groan, she turned to find some other seller.
you were talking to someone, pretending not to pay attention to ellie skittering around the house talking to people she knew. maybe she wasn't as much of a loser as you thought, or maybe she was just a stoner. one of them. either way, she kept disappearing, but when you finally found her again, she was sitting on a couch, joint hanging from her lips as she talked with some friends.
"els," you fell next to her, taking the joint out of her mouth and taking a hit. "we should play beer pong." you suggested, smiling at her the way she liked.
"we were just talking about that," dina cut in, "me and jesse will play with you guys, won't we jes?" he turned back towards the three of you, dazed and a little confused. "that's a yes." ellie was burning lasers into dina, who was standing.
one of the tables was empty, and the group immediately moved to occupy it. you took your place next to ellie, teaming up with dina who was smirking at the end of the table. "you go first," you handed ellie the small white ball.
ellie was skilled, that's for sure. she made almost every single point, which had jesse drinking until he couldn't see straight. she was trying so hard not to focus on the way your bicep brushed against hers, and the way you giggled whenever you made a point. it just wasn't fair. none of this was fair.
"I definitely won." ellie said, as you made your way back inside. "you had, like, two drinks, max. I had jesse drinking for miles." you could tell she was on something now, the way she grinned and made eye contact and jokes were far from her usual character.
"don't you owe me a dance?" your hand locked with hers as you gently pulled her in the direction of where most people were dancing. you lifted her arm and spun her, pulling her back against your front by her hips.
ellie surely wasn't breathing. she was sure that she had died from alcohol consumption, or maybe someone stabbed her, and she was dead, in heaven. or a fever dream in a coma. there was no way in hell -in hell- that you were swaying your hips against her ass, cunt so fucking close to where she desperately needed you.
"this is fun, don'tcha think, ellie?" you whispered, voice low as you guided her hips with yours. her head fell back against your shoulder, alcohol wearing off as you ground her hips against your front. "I asked you a question, darlin."
"so fun," she muttered, eyes closed as she let you bring her hips back and forth with yours to the beat of the music. "wanna go upstairs?"
"ellie williams inviting me upstairs on the first date? dirty." you giggled, pulling away from her body. she was flushed, her boxers were already wet, and she had no clue what going upstairs entailed. but she needed you regardless. "lead the way, confident." she ran her sweaty hands down the front of her jeans and led you upstairs, to an empty bedroom. it was jesse's, and he wouldn't ever know.. right?
you were pulling her face against yours before she even got a chance to tell you that she didn't know what to do. you were definitely taking the lead on this one - not that ellie objected in any sense.
you nicked her bottom lip, eliciting blood at how chapped they were. you pushed your tongue into her mouth, smiling when she moaned and pulled you in by your waist. your hands traveled, brushing against her tits from beneath her tee shirt. obviously she didn't wear a bra, she was too cool and masc for that.
"you're desperate els," you sneered when you pulled away, pulling your crop top up and over your head. "take off your shirt and pants and lay down." ellie had no thoughts in her head; just you. you telling her to strip. this definitely wasn't a fever dream.
she quickly lost her shirt and pants, leaving lanky limbs and embarrassing boxers. her nipples were perked up, waiting to be sucked and slapped, and her face was red with a never ending blush.
when she laid down, you got on top of her, pushing her legs up around your waist as you sucked hickey after hickey into her neck. she was writhing and whining, begging for you to touch her further than just your hands still placed on her thighs. just from making out and hickies she was pushing her hips into you, clit hitting the fabric of your skirt as you moved to push your thigh between her legs.
"need you so bad," she whimpered when you finally diverted your attention from her neck down her chest. you left soft kisses between her tits and around them, before taking her nipple in your mouth and harshly sucking. like a false sense of security.
her hips were coming down hard and fast against your knee as you continued to mess with her tits, pulling her nipples between your fingers and grazing them with your teeth. she was just so fucking sensitive, and she barely even smoked anything.
knowing she was getting close, you moved your knee and kissed down her sternum, leaving a trail of shiny gloss as you got to the waistband of her boxers. "oh, poor baby, you've been waiting for this, haven't you?" you ran your thumb over the wet patch of her underwear.
"nghh- for so long," she moaned as her hips rutted into your palm. "I think about y- fuck- think about you when I..when I come," her eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment, knowing she was sharing far more than she needed to.
"do you now?" you teased, pulling her boxers down her pale legs. you added them to the pile of clothes and admired how absolutely drenched she was, practically leaking onto the sheets. "what do you think about, princess?" you were bringing her legs over your shoulders, looking at her expectantly.
"think about you- mh- about this," she was immediately distracted by the way you kissed her clit. "about c-cuming on your- shit shit fuck," you pressed your tongue against her clit and licked, before sucking it into your mouth and painting patterns with your tongue.
after keeping your attention directly on her clit for a few minutes, you circled her entrance with your middle finger, lubing it up before pushing it in to the first knuckle and fuck, she was tight, holding onto your finger to the point you could hardly thrust.
"ellie, you gotta relax. we can stop if you want to." she shook her head violently, unclenching her eyes and trying to breathe. her body released its tension, which made everything less tense, allowing you to push your finger the rest of the way in.
and... she came. just like that, barely a finger deep her cunt, barely doing anything.
"jesus ellie," you laughed to yourself. you didn't wait for her to finish before you started fucking your finger into her. she whined and thrashed to get away from your hand, but you added another finger and pressed down on her hip to steady her. you curled your fingers up just enough to hit that sweet spot inside of her and she almost black out.
"fuck- s'too much.. s'too much," she slurred, drunk on your fingers. the bed shook lightly against the wall at the harshness of your thrusts.
"is it really, baby?" you grinned, before taking her clit in your mouth again. her moans were practically louder than the music downstairs, and her back was arching. she attempted to get away from you, pulling her hips away, but it was no use.
tears welled in her eyes as her stomach tightened. her pussy clenched around your fingers, sucking them in deep. you pressed against her spot as she came, making her let out a broken shriek.
ellie was definitely crying now. especially when you didn't stop... again. you just kept pounding your fingers into her, adding a third. just thinking about how hard she would cum on a strap instead of your fingers had you dizzy.
her second orgasm morphed into her third before you pulled your fingers out. they were drenched in cum, which was dripping down your arm and the sheets. ellie's cheeks were puffy from crying, hips twitching as she tried to breath.
"oh sweet girl, we're not done yet." you wiped your hand on the bed and climbed off of her, stripping yourself of your remaining clothes and coming back over her, kneeling between her legs.
you pushed her leg up, straddling her for a moment. her lips were parted, breathing heavily as she waited for you to drop against her. your lips quirked up into a smirk as you pressed your cunt against hers, head falling back as your clits met.
ellie's pussy was wet, covered in cum, ready to be fucked until she couldn't say any name but yours. you thrust your hips against hers, and she was crying again, pulling and flicking her own nipples as she listened to you moan and reveled at how phenomenal your pussy felt.
she pushed her hips into yours, so you held them down, forcing her to take whatever you gave her. you came down against her pelvis hard, almost to the point where it hurt, but ellie was living for it, sobbing out your name like it was God's.
"can't come again- I can't- fuck, nnghh," you forced two fingers into ellie's mouth and she shut up, sucking them like a slut.
"yes you can." your voice changed, something deeper and more dominant ripped out of you as you got close to your orgasm. a rock in your stomach dropped, and you could feel ellie getting close as you picked up the pace, moaning at how her cunt felt.
you came at the same time, cum mixing and smearing all over both of you. ellie was still crying, back arched as she moaned over and over. you kissed her ankle softly as you came down for your high, climbing off of her after a moment and laying next to her.
"I want you to be my girlfriend," ellie croaked, voice still hoarse for all the crying. you giggled, looking over at her with a grin.
"I think I can do that."
bottom notes: this is the longest fic I've written and I actually thought I wouldn't be able to get more than 2k words.. anyway sorry about the abrupt ending I kinda wanted to be done
#ellie smut#ellie x fem reader#ellie x reader#ellie williams smut#ellie the last of us#ellie williams#ellie tlou#tlou#maya writes#the last of us
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Run little butterfly
You were trying to run from home when you met him, disappearing from his side just the way you appeared next to him, in a dramatic way out of nowhere. And now that he found you, he won't let you go ever again.
Tags: smut, mdni, f!Cinderella reader, king!sukuna, true form sukuna, Sukuna's hand mouth (you'll see what I'm talking about), oral (m and f receiving), first time, fingering, creampie, crying, double penetration, two dicks kuna, Sukuna being a little bit too obsessed with you, jealousy, Sukuna haves a harem,
Author's note: this is a last minute fic I came up with to not leave sukuna out this year's list. Don't worry bbg, I'll never forget about you😘
Author's note: a very much different version of Cinderella. I was thinking of sticking to the original but it doesn't really scream me, so I had to change it.
Masterlist kinktober masterlist
You were the only child of a small noble house. You grew up enjoying the little's of life, trying to understand the beauty of it and the people next to you.
Your father was gone most of the time since he was traveling for work. You had your mother next to you, making you feel less sad and looking forward for the next day to come.
But your happiness didn't lasted for long, because your mother fell ill. And not long after that, she unfortunately passed away, leaving you and your father all alone.
It was sad, your favorite person in the world disappearing just in a blink of an eye.
You didn't even had time to mourn her death and your father remarried, bringing home a woman you never saw in your life and two other kids who happened to be the same age as you.
You were ignored most of the time, your father gone and your new mother couldn't give a single fuck about what you were doing.
You wished you could go back in time when no one would look in your direction. Because the moment your father also passed away, your life did a 180.
Everything happened way to fast, losing your family, now even the servants leaving because that woman was refusing to pay them. You were also moved to the attic.
You couldn't catch a single break since that woman and her daughters were mistreating you everyday.
You stayed there for a few years, that until you turned old enough to leave somewhere far away and live independently.
You didn't cared about the house, the memories, the people you once loved anymore. All you wanted was to run as soon as possible.
So, one afternoon, right after everybody called it a day and you were supposed to go to sleep, you tried to make your escape.
Taking a horse, you made your way to the gate, getting ready to run so far away that you won't have to ever think about this place again.
You followed the main path, going and going, not stopping until you were out of town.
For the first time in years, you were happy. The more you were getting away from that hell hole, the more you smiled.
After good minutes of getting further away from that house, you calmed down. Feeling at a safe distance to finally breath and let all the weight from your shoulders drop.
You stopped in front of an inn. Getting off your horse and leave it in front of the illuminated building, petting it for a moment before you got some courage to get inside.
You had a few coins that you managed to save over the past few weeks. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep you alive for a few days until you find some accommodation, a house that you could finally call your own.
You opened the door, immediately being met with a few people that were sitting at the tables. This places was a lot more full on the inside that it looked on the outside. Whatever, it was none of your business what other does when you had your own problems.
"I'd like to rent a room for the night." you said when you got to the counter.
"I have to check what rooms I have available." the older man in front of you said.
"Also, I have a horse outside. Do you have a stable where I can move it to?" you asked, hoping that your loyal friend will get a good night sleep.
"In the back." you wasted no more time and went outside, moving your horse to a comfortable stable where it could rest for a while.
Now, you were walking back to the inn, ready to pay for your room and sleep until tomorrow morning, then take off to another town and only imagining how life would be stress free.
Right outside the inn, there was an extremely tall guy, you could only see his body form because he had his face covered with the hood of his cloak.
You only looked at him for a moment, but right before you were about to enter the tavern, you felt some arms on you, being dragged to the side.
Your heart was about to get out your chest, you thought that was the end of your journey. Here goes your freedom. It haven't even been an hour and you were caught already.
But instead of your evil step mother or her ugly daughters, you were met with that tall man from earlier.
"I must admit, they did a good job this time." he said in a low voice that gave you chills down your spine. You were confused, not understanding his words, but you didn't dared to open your mouth. You just stood there, silent, waiting for an explanation.
You looked at him with big eyes, you could bearly see his face since it was dark outside, and the light from inside the inn wasn't giving you any help to figure out who he was.
He knew nothing about you and he was already salivating. You were nothing like he saw before. Daring to show up before him in peasants clothes, looking tired and full of anxiety. And yet, you looked so sweet that he couldn't help but want to break you already.
He thought he said he doesn't want any kind of unwanted guests during his trip, but he's not complaining about it when you looked so ready to take him.
He couldn't help but laugh, making you even more confused, and now trying to get away.
When you thought that you could get free, you felt another pair or arms around you. Now you got four arms on you, two on your hips and keeping you in place, one hand on your arm and one under your chin, lifting it up to look at him.
All you could see were his red eyes, that looked like they're glowing.
He looked like a beast who just captured his prey and you couldn't help but feel scared, he was way too intimidating.
His eyes scaned your face for a moment, looking at the dumb expression you had, and then it went lower.
Your lips look so tasty. He wanted to kiss you just to see how you'll react, even if he's usually the type to avoid such act.
Usually, his women would come into his room, look all dolled up and pretty before they take care of him and then leave. No questions asked, no feelings involved.
However, you look so dumb. He couldn't help but want to tease you. To touch you and overstimulate you until you're even more stupid that you already are.
He leaned down, getting his face closer to yours, somehow trying to anticipate your next move. Will you moan or will you keep quiet? Now he wanted to hear your broken cries even more.
He stopped right in front of your face, your noses almost touching. All he did was to look at you.
You froze, all the air from your lungs stopping in place. You couldn't process what was going on.
"Don't use that pretty brain on things you don't understand." even he can't understand why he was acting like that. Craving for you even if this is the first time he saw you.
You parted your lips, wanting to say something, but you couldn't say a single word. Your voice was stuck in your throat.
"Forget about everything they told you. That training was irrelevant." training? What was he talking about? "I make the rules, remember that." right, you shouldn't listen to his servants telling you how to please him. He knows himself better than them.
He misunderstood this completely. You weren't one of his new added toys to his collection. You had no idea who he even was to begin with.
But he didn't cared, his face continued moving, ignoring whatever questions you might have as his lips finally touched yours.
His eyes were cold, and so was his touch. His hands were roughly placed on your body, dragging you closer in his arms. His kisses were loveless, no sign of affection as he tried to deeper the kiss.
Taking all the warmth you had to offer, his cold body was slowly becoming warmer. Bathing in your scent, one of his hands went behind your head, holding you in place to be able to kiss you better. One of his hands on yours, trying to wrap it around his body, wanting to feel more of your touch.
He wanted to be in your arms, to feel how is it when you hold him tightly.
Fuck is even wrong with him. He's not usually like this but now his cocks were hard against his pants, wanting to break free and be inside you. Ah, but he's going feral just thinking about your warm wet cunt taking all of him in. And you must take him in, he won't let you rest until you can take him properly.
"Master." someone could be heard from behind a corner, making you jump and almost run from there.
"Tsk." the tall man said annoyed, getting his face away from you, now fixing his posture but still having you in his arms.
"I prepared the thing you asked me to." that person said again, not daring to show their face.
"Alright." the man said annoyed, finally getting his arms away from you. He looked at you for one more time before he left, leaving you all alone to process what just happened.
You couldn't possibly remain there for the night, you had to leave this place, and you had to leave now. That guy was nothing but a big red flag. Everything about him screamed danger, and you weren't stupid enough to fuck around and find out.
So, in a desperate attempt to get away from there, you went back to the stables, getting your horse out and getting on top of it. You left that place in a hurry, not looking back for a moment as you went back to the place you consider to be safe. By safe I meant that he couldn't possibly appear there, there's no way he could.
So, you ran back to that hell house. Leaving the horse back in its place as you quickly ran inside the house.
Never in your life did you think you'll be so happy to see the same old kitchen you spend most of your time into. And never were you so happy to run to the attic and jump into that rusty bed, falling asleep immediately.
But when you finally got home, the mysterious stranger that you met at the inn just finished his task. Getting into his room and calling for someone to get you to him. He couldn't help but want to ravish you right there and then, split you open on his dicks and pump a few loads in you.
"There's no one in this inn that describes that appearance." were they shitting on him now?
"This female that was recently added to the harem." he tried to find other words to explain it. He knew nothing about you besides how you looked and how sweet you taste for him.
"She's currently at the palace. You told us you don't want to see her because of how inexperienced she was." he did that, didn't he. He remembers something now, a girl with long dark hair getting into his bed wearing nothing but a red transparent bathrobe. She was nothing but talk, it made him lose interest immediately.
"Then I want to see all the females in this inn." he got to find you. He knows you're real, it was no way you weren't.
"There are no other guests besides us." then who the fuck were you? Why did you appeared only before him and then disappeared after making him so hungry for you. Were you a piece of his imagination? No wander he wanted to touch you so bad.
Then he haves no option but to look for someone similar to you, his vision, when he gets back to the palace.
And that night, one of you slept better than a a cat napping under the sunlight and the other was wide awake the whole time.
Sure, the next day came and it reminded you of why you tried to run in the first place, but wasn't it better when you knew you won't have to deal with strangers. Especially someone like that brute of a man.
Your chores and the harassment those three women gave you was annoying, but after yesterday, you'll managed to live a few more weeks with it.
When the weather clears, you'll go out again, and this time you'll do a lot more better.
But perhaps, the universe was giving you a much better solution than to sneak out the house.
Because, you see, by the end of that week your house received a invitation to the Royal ball, and it says that the king is finally going to chose a queen.
Your sisters were running around in circles trying to find a good dress. And the mess they made while looking around was giving you headaches.
But you couldn't really complain when you're planning to leave while they're at the ball.
"Can I come to the ball?" you asked with a basket full of clothes in your hands, being tasked to wash and iron them by the end of the day.
"Mother! Do you hear her nonsense?" one of the sisters yelled, making you close your eyes at the loud noise.
"She can't! Mother!" the other sister said, going to her mother and trying to beg her to say no.
"Do you think they need more servants there? It's a happy ceremony, not a job interview." you knew no was the answer, but still. You tried to see if something changed at least in one of them. Hoping to find a reason to stay in this house for a little longer.
The moment they left in their carriage to the ball, it was the moment you ran out the house and ready to get on the horse.
"Now now, no need to be sad." a masculine voice could be heard behind you, making you turn around instantly.
Two men, both of them dressed in black, one with long black hair and the other with white hair and sun glasses.
"We're here to save you." the white haired guy said, making you raise an eye brow. "Aren't you glad?"
"Who are you?" they acted like it was normal for two unknown men to appear in your yard and act all nonchalant.
"Your fairy godmother."
"But you're two, and men." you tried to correct their words.
"We come in a package. And being a fairy godmother sounds better than a fairy godfather." the white haired guy said.
"Gojo and I will help you go to the ball." the dark haired man said.
"I don't want to." you refused, getting your horse out and ready to get on it.
"But you looked so sad earlier." the white haired guy sounded like he was mocking you. "Come on, don't lie to us."
"If you want to do something for me then kick those women out." it was much better than going to a ball you weren't invited to.
"But you look like you already have your future planned out. Why would we interfere?"
"Then why are you here?" you said, getting ready to get on your horse.
"We better get started or you'll arive when the ball is finished." out of nowhere both of them got some kind of wands in their hands, moving it around in the air before both of them started to do their magic.
"If you're going to a ball you'll need a carriage." the dark haired guy said and you saw a pumpkin floating in the air, getting in front of you and slowly becoming bigger, slightly changing its color and shape.
"We need horses too." the other man said and some mices were turned into horses.
"And a coachman." they looked like they were having fun while you were still very much miserable.
"What about the dress?"
"Something blue?" with a hand movement, your clothes were changed into a big ball gown dress. "And look, glass slippers."
"That will be uncomfortable." the dark haired guy said, getting ready to change your shoes into something more comfortable.
"No, no. They're very much comfortable. Try to walk around." the other guy said, making you walk back and forth and give him a review of how your shoes were.
"It's good. My feet doesn't hurt." you said and try to jump around to show that everything was alright.
"Okay then. Get inside." both of them pushed you inside the carriage.
"You have until midnight to come back."
"The spell breaks when the clock shows 12. Remember that."
"Now go, and don't come back until you had all the fun you needed." they both disappeared into thin air. Leaving you alone in a carriage on the way to a ball you didn't want to go to.
You could jump out the carriage and go back home. But if you're being honest, you want to have a last good memory before you leave your good for nothing status and name and live freely.
A ball didn't sounded that bad. There would be music, food, and a lot of people so you won't have to worry about standing out. There's peacocks out there who are trying too hard to make themselves distinguished, so, you're good.
The castle was a lot bigger up close. You could see it every day from your window in the morning. It already looked big, but now? Damn, you're scared you'll stand out because you have no idea how to act like a noble.
You took a deep breath before getting out of the carriage. Grabbing a bit of your dress in your hands, to help you walk up the stairs.
With small steps, you took your time, looking around at the beautiful paintings and the way the whole place looked like it was covered in gold.
There were guards everywhere. It was a bit scary, if you think about it, but you chose to ignore it.
"Excuse me." you went to someone who looked like they worked there. "Do you know where the ballroom is at?" you asked, being lost in that foreign place.
"This way, miss." the man said in a professional voice, showing you the way to the place where you'll spend the next few hours before you disappear for good.
You went inside the room, being welcomed with a lot of people who didn't looked twice in your direction.
The ballroom was filled with music, but no one was dancing. Rather than that, they were talking between themselves.
Rich people, what do you know.
Most of them were dressed in a similar way to you, but there were some who went over the top. And now that you're thinking about it, your step sisters were doing too much. They probably stand out like crazy, and you couldn't help but giggle.
You decided to go and look around. What's a party without food and drinks?
Making your way between people who didn't wanted to move and inch, you found a table with some desserts on it. They look so tasty, and the taste was even more incredible. Can you steal a few for your journey? Or can you pretend to be a worker there and sneak into the kitchen?
Happy with your discovery, you took a plate of some cake and went to sit somewhere where no one will disturb you.
A small couch that was surrounded by little to no people. And you couldn't ask for more.
You sat on it, enjoying the sweet in your hands, the peace and the fact that no one was giving you any attention.
But the thing is, that if you payed some attention you would have saw why no one dared to stay there. It was the closest couch to the king.
It was in the right side of the throne, just a few feet away from it.
How could you be so blind? How could you not notice that brute of a man. Standing so tall that you could see him from a few crowds away, four arms, not two like the rest of the people in that ballroom. Pink hair that looked like candy, and yet it didn't made him look any softer.
Unlike you, he noticed the person who sat on the couch right away.
His eyes widened, mouth slightly opened as he kept looking at you again and again. Blinking, rubbing his eyes and then blinking again.
"You see that person?" the king asked the closest person next to him, to confirm he wasn't seeing things.
"The lady in the blue dress?" that was all he needed to hear to know he was in fact not hallucinating.
He got up, ignoring who ever dared to come his way and walk to you, stopping right in front of you who still haven't acknowledged his existence.
You raised your head when you finally noticed him, mouth full of delicious cake. You had the same big round eyes he remembers. You gulped, swallowing the sweet down your throat. He haven't said a word since he stopped in front of you, still being in his own world, still not believing that you came to him yourself. He didn't had to look for a replacement anymore.
"Can I help you?" your voice was like magic to him. It could make him melt if you said the right words.
He laughed, a big smirk on his face. But that only made you confused.
You looked left and then right, looking for a clue on what's going on. Perhaps he wanted to sit down and this was the only available space. You knew that nobles have some complicated etiquettes they follow, so maybe he's waiting for you to do something?
Ah, you finally get it. You got up, bowing politely to let him know that was your goodbye. But when you wanted to turn around, you suddenly woke up in the air, and a pair of arms wrapped around you.
"Wha-" panicked, you grabbed onto him. But now that you look at the situation, he was the one who got you in his arms, carrying you out of there. "What are you doing?" this couldn't be normal.
"Don't act like you don't remember me now." his words made sense to you, somehow.
He looked familiar, but you couldn't figure out from where. You don't know his name, this was the first time you saw his face, but that voice sounded so familiar. And his body, it also looked like you saw it before.
He walked around the castle like he owned it. Opening door after door, and getting deeper inside it, and far away from the ballroom.
"Who are you?" he was no ordinary person, you could see that. He walked freely without a single person saying a thing.
He made the guards look like decorations, and they didn't dared to say a thing to him. The palace workers bowed before him, and even the nobles were trying to please him.
"Where are you taking me?" you asked when you figured the answer to the first question.
He still didn't said a word and open one last door.
This room was deep inside the palace, you'd get lost if you try to run from there on your own. But perhaps that was what he wanted from the start. To lock you somewhere you won't be able to run from even if you try to escape.
That place had a big bed in the middle of the room, a couch that was facing the fire place, a big bookcase filled from top to bottom and some really big windows. From what you can see out the windows, and the fact you just walked up a lot of stairs, you were really high up. You won't be able to survive without breaking a few bones if you try to jump.
He really thought of everything, huh?
Walking to the bed, he placed you on it. Turning around and walking towards the door. He didn't thought of finding you this soon, so he had no idea what to do.
"Can I.." you bite your lips before speaking, too afraid that you know the answer too well. "Can I still go home?" he paused when he got in front of the door, but didn't said a thing. "The guys that helped me get here told me to get back before midnight." he almost broke the door when he heard those words. The what? The guys? They did what? "This is actually a spell. I don't actually look like this." he turned around and marched to the bed.
There was something scary in his eyes. But you couldn't help but look at him.
Did you tricked him? Was someone plotting against him and send a doppelganger to play with him?
"Who sent you?"
"I have no idea." you looked away. He won't believe you even if you tell him.
"Tell me." his cold eyes could petrify anyone.
"You don't trust me." you shook your head, trying to brush this off.
"I do. Now tell me." he looked like he could kill you right there, and no one would say a thing about it. You won't be missed, you won't be mourned. You don't even have someone to think about even in your last moments of living.
"Can I leave or not?" your voice just as cold as his, and for a moment he could feel his blood boil. You talked to other men, they send you there to the palace to make a clown out of him and now you dared to act like it was his fault for locking you in a place where he knows you won't run from.
"No." you sighed at his response. Disappointed in yourself for even trying, for listening to some strange men and for not running away when you had the perfect chance to.
"At midnight I turn back to my usual self. I'm not like this, I don't dress this way. You won't like me anymore after that." he was looking for a replacement from the start. This ball was held to find a doll that resembled you. And he found it. You can turn into a hideous monster and he'll find a way to turn you back into this form.
"And you think that I care?"
You looked confused. You had no idea what was going on in his head. What made him act like this and why.
Did you looked like an ex lover? Or someone who passed away? Because if that's the case, then he won't find what he's looking for in you.
"I won't submit to you." you tried to make it clear. "I'm my own person. I can't act like someone else."
He takes your words as a challenge.
He'll transform you into the perfect puppet. You'll match his expectations and taste in all aspects. You'll love him with all your heart and wait for him to return to you at the end of the day. All you need is a little training. And by how things looks, you'll need an intense one.
"You think you can defy me, brat?" he was mocking you. His voice was so annoying.
His face, his body, his status, everything was getting on your nerves now.
"I'm going home." you said. It wasn't a question or request, you were letting him know.
"Try." the shock look on your face was priceless. You looked offended by his words and he couldn't ask for more. He lied, he will get more out of you. Words, expression, feelings, he wants to see everything.
You tried to get up the bed, ignoring the fact that he was right in front of you. He didn't stopped you, he just looked at your dumbfounded expression when your actions weren't stopped by him.
He laughed, his voice filling the whole room.
You looked like you were going to cry, and he couldn't help but want to bite you. Sink his teeth deep into your flesh and leave marks all over your body.
For a moment, you stopped in place, not daring to get close to the door anymore.
Where have you felt that feeling before? The feeling of being watched by a ferocious predator.
You slowly turn around, to look at him who was sitting on the floor, his back against the bed. You recognize those red eyes now. It's the same as back then, when you almost successfully ran from home but you were met with that freak who made you turn around.
The realization look you had on your face made his eyes darker.
You had to get out of there, now.
You were if full panic mode, slowly walking backwards to the door, putting your hands on the handle and open it. Not a single second wasted as you ran down that hallway, dress in your arms and trying to get as far away from him as possible.
You stopped just for a moment to look back when you got to some stairs. He was nowhere to be seen, and you didn't know if you actually lost him or he was playing with you.
Whatever, you can think about that after you run from there.
The midnight clock could be heard in the background, but you weren't preoccupied by it. In fact, you couldn't even hear it, too focused on running down that mountain of stairs.
One of your shoes slipped off your foot. You turned around to look at it, and then you saw him, at the end of the stairs and looking down at you.
Your heart skipped a beat, and you almost stopped working for a moment.
Leave it there, a shoe didn't matter when you had far more things to worry about.
You soon got to a hallway, a big open door a few meters away of you, and you couldn't help but run even faster. But the closer you got, the more the door close. And by the time you got to it, it was completely shut.
"No, please!" you banged on the door. "Let me through." no answer.
You tried to open it, pulling it as hard as you can, but nothing. Going back wasn't an answer, and there weren't any other rooms that you could hide in.
There was only one option left. So many windows on your right, it was easy to open one and try to escape. And so you did, you opened a window and looked down for a moment. A broken neck doesn't sounds that bad, if you're thinking about it.
You took a deep breath, with a hand lifting as much of your dress in your arms, and with the other holding onto the window, ready to jump on it and see what the outcome of this event will be.
With no hesitation, you placed your knee on the window frame, trying to balance yours with your other foot and get on top of the window. But then you felt those big muscular arms wrapped around you once again.
"I didn't thought you had the balls to do it." his mouth was right into your ear, his voice leaving chills all over your body. "I might lock you in the basement if you continue to be a bad girl." he can do it, who's stopping him. You won't give up without a good fight.
"So? What do you want from me?" with this he knew you were the person he was looking for. Daring to disappear again just like back at the inn. You loved getting on his nerves, didn't you?
"We have unfinished business." what was he talking about?
"I didn't do anything." and that's the problem. The fact that you left him when he needed you. How dare you.
"Look at the time." he said when he was walking back on the stairs, holding you in his arms. With two holding your body and the other two wrapped around you, in case you planned on doing something crazy again.
"I told you, this is all a spell." and he can't wait for it to go away.
He stopped in place, and you had no idea what he was going to do. "Your shoe." he said, looking at the glass slipper.
"That would disappear too." but that didn't stopped him from moving one of his hands from you and picking up the glass slipper.
He continued walking back to that cursed room, throwing you in bed.
"Let's wait for the spell to break." he sat on a chair next to the door, waiting for your next move. Will your run to the door and try to escape again? Will you jump on him and try to harm him or will you try to jump out the window? He couldn't help but feel exited for your next move.
The disappointed look on his face when you just stood there. Looking down at the floor and from time to time at him with a ugly look in your eyes. You hated him? But that's a strong feeling, wasn't it?
And your words were true. You started glowing, and soon your appearance slightly changed. Your clothes were back to your old rags, your make up gone and your hair freely on your back.
He waited, excited. He couldn't help but wet his lips with his tongue, gulping and pressing his palms against each other. You better transform or he'll do it for you.
He expected more. He thought he'll see something unseen before. A monster, or you at your worst. You got him overthinking that your previous appearance was all a lie, but now you got him to want to bully you for lying to him.
He got up, getting closer to the bed. He stood there before you, expressionless, before he pushed you in bed, making you fall on your back.
"I didn't know you were a liar."
"What do you mean? The spell broke."
"You look exactly the same." he was on top of you, caging you between him and the bed. "You look even better than before." he was strange, truly.
"I still want to go home." you'll try as much as you can. There must be something that will work on this guy.
"I don't want you to."
"And who are you to decide for me?" he didn't respond to your question, choosing to ignore it like most of your questions. Instead, he smashed his lips against yours, his craving for your touch far too loud to ignore it.
And then it hits you. If you distract him, and act all sweet, you might actually be able to fool him and run away.
So, your hands wrapped around his neck, dragging him closer to you. He looked shocked, and for a moment he just stood there.
"What?" you spit those words at him, annoyed. Even if you cooperate with him, your words can't help but show your true colors.
"Take your clothes off." you gasped.
"I'm not doing this before marriage." you said, not wanting to do more than kissing.
"Consider the ball tonight the wedding ceremony." you looked at him in disbelief. "I'll take them off if you don't want to." even worse.
"I never did this before." you said. Maybe he'll have a heart and try to understand your situation.
"It's definitely going to hurt." no encouragement words? What a dickhead.
"I'll do it myself, no need for you to do a thing." you got up the bed, your hands traveling here and there, taking your time while undressing.
He stood at the edge of the bed, watching your every move. You can run if you want, the door is open, and it would stay that way until he leaves that room. So, you can try as much as you want, it's entertaining watching you fail.
But you didn't run, instead, you did as he said. Taking your clothes off with shaking hands and biting off any bad words you wanted to say out loud.
"Come and help me too." he could only laugh at your expression. But you got closer to the bed, no protests. He better sleep with his eyes open tonight.
He placed his much bigger hand on top of yours, dragging it on him.
You had no idea what to do. You kept looking at his body, at his arms, at his big chest, his shoulders. "Try and undress me, not just with your eyes." he was too much.
You slowly took whatever you could off him, and he just looked at you the whole time.
Now, when both of you were naked, you just stood there in front of him. You couldn't help but stare. He had two cocks, not one but two. I mean, he haves two of everything, but you didn't expect for him to have two dicks as well.
"Close your mouth and stop staring." he laughed at your dumbfounded expression.
"I don't know what to do." he tapped the placed next to him with his palm.
"Lay down here." you layed down on the bed, waiting for what he planned on doing. "You have to open your legs more." isn't he asking for too much already? One of his hands traveled in between your legs. "Look at me." you was expecting everything but to feel something licking your clit. You gasped, and looked at his hand. It was just a hand but it didn't felt that way at all. He laughed again. "I told you to look at me. Don't think of things you can't understand." but you don't get it. You could feel a tongue, traveling between your folds, going up and down, playing with your pearl.
"What's that?" you asked out of breath, forgetting how to even breath for a moment.
"This?" he showed you his palm, which was having a mouth on it. Since when was it there? His hand went back between your legs, playing with your clit again, one of his other hands joining in, as you felt something at your entrance. "Keep your eyes on mine or I'll give you something to occupy yourself with." you had no idea what he was planning to do. With a quick move, he stood up, his dicks against your face. "You know what to do." you looked up at him, at his dumb grin and then at his friends that were right in your face. "Open your mouth." one of his thumbs was on your lips, pressed against it to make you open it and suck on it. He then moved his hand and took one of his cocks, giving it to you to do your thing.
You weren't trained to please him, but even so, he had some expectations from you.
You could do it. If others could, so can you. But look at you, who can't even take half of his fat cock into your mouth.
"Do good and I'll reward you." he said and added another finger inside your wet pussy. "See?" he said and curled his fingers. "Now get to work."
With your head pressed against his thigh, you wrapped a hand around one of his cocks, while trying to take the other in your mouth.
He let out a loud groan, making you unsure if you should continue or stop.
A promise is a promise, and he's true to his words. Since you're trying so hard to please him, he should return the favor. He kept curling his fingers, going in and out of you as his mouth kept playing with your pretty clit. He was touching all the good places, he knew that, and he didn't stopped a bit. Now determined to discover even more places and touch better than before.
Your walls started to clench around him, squeezing him so tight and making him wander how that will feel around his cock.
"You wanna cum? You better keep working then." his words made you try even harder, too desperate of that foreign feeling inside of you.
He kept moving his hands, and you kept trying to figure out what to do to him. But oh, you were so close that you couldn't think straight anymore. And it happened in a flash, your mind going blank and trembling under his touch as you came.
He kept his hands moving for a little longer before stopping, when you finally came to your senses.
"Now focus on me." his hands went away from you, now gripping your hair and pushing your head down his length. You tapped his thigh, too afraid you won't be able to breathe anymore. He moved your head, sometimes he moved his own hips, and soon, he was going to cum too. "Don't let spill anything. Swallow." he said before cumming down your throat.
This was more than enough. You didn't had the strength to go further than this.
Intimacy can be too tiring. And he looked like he enjoys sucking the energy out of you.
"We're not done yet." not yet? What more does he wants from you?
He got on top of you, positioning between your legs. Two of his arms places next to you, while one held your hips. With his only free hand left, he held one of his cocks at your entrance, rubbing his head against your pussy. Getting his head inside your cunt, then drag it out to rub it between your folds, rubbing it against your clit. Then back at your warm entrance again, slowly getting his head inside, just to get out and then again.
He was playing with you. He was enjoying seeing you mad.
But this time, when he got his tip inside of you, he kept pushing, going deeper and deeper. And he didn't stopped until he got inside all the way in.
Warm, wet and hugging him just right. He loved it. He could stay inside of you forever.
His face got closer to yours, looking at you and at the way you were struggling to fit him in. But he been so attentive to you, and you can't even fit him in.
Slowly, he moved his hips, in and out at a calm pace. It gave you all the time you needed understand how you managed to fit him in. And it also gave him time to understand how painfully slow this was.
His revenge was going to wait a lot before he fucks you properly.
He wanted to rearrange your inside for the way you left him, but now he had no option but to wait.
He's going crazy. He's dying in your arms and you're not doing anything. You're not talking to him, you're not looking at him.
He grabbed your cheeks, pushing them together and making your lips come forward.
"What?" you tried to say.
He kissed you, making you wrap your arms around him as he kept moving his hips.
This was better, when you held him in your arms was so much better. It made this fire inside of him calm down and let him realize the situation he's in.
One of his hands went between your bodies, softly rubbing your clit as he kept moving, making your bodies slightly rock together.
His tongue inside your mouth, his movement was so sloppy, not having a proper rhythms but keep increasing the force he kept slamming into you with.
The first orgams pulled out of you with force, him not giving you a moment to breath and keep going for it until he filled your warm walls with his hot cum.
But when you thought it was over, it never was.
He got out of you, giving you a break for a moment before you felt him back between your legs, this time a lot more bigger. He had both of his dicks in his hand, now trying to push them inside of your pussy to fill you up.
"It won't fit." you said, trying to stop him from this madness.
"Take a deep breath." he said before finally managing to get inside.
He was going to kill you, because this was too much. The way he split you open, being stretched out like never before. And he kept moving his hips too, like the fact that you still haven't accommodate to this strange feeling meant nothing to him.
It hurted, but at the same time, the way he kept you open felt good. And you hate to admit it but you might cum just from this alone.
His hips kept moving, and this weird feeling started to feel so much better. It went to the point where you started crying, too much for you to handle.
"Shh. You can take it." he said, a hand moving some hair away from your face.
He liked those hot tears that were falling from your eyes. It made him wander why he didn't try to make you cry a lot earlier.
Can you even come again? He can't help but wander. Guess he haves to find that out himself.
Pounding into you, keeping you wrapped in his arms and not giving you a break. He managed to make you cum again, now focused on the way your squeezing him again. And just like last time, he painted your insides white, this time getting you fuller than last time.
But it's not over, because he haves to try this again, but from another position.
You didn't managed to last too long and fell asleep in his arms, the next day waking all alone in there.
You wasted no time in putting your clothes back on and running out that room, down the stairs and back into that hallway. Being welcomed with a close door that was blocking your way out. Now having no choice but go back to that room and wait for him to arrive back. Who knows what he's planning to do this time.
Author'a note: I was planning on making Gojo and Geto the step brothers but then it would have because their fan fic. I might write something similar to this but for them. Dunno tho, I'm too lazy to do it.
#sukuna#jjk smut#jjk sukuna#sukuna smut#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk fanfic#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen
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Can you do Alexia for “It’s… different. With them, I spent most of my time longing for something that wasn’t even accessible. With you, I simply feel alive.”
I love your little blurbs❤️ They’re how I reward myself for completing tasks at work!
thank you, i've honestly had a lot of fun writing them. it's nice to have something small to get the fic momentum going.
different || alexia putellas x reader ||
it was the simplest things that always caused your feelings to hit you like a truck. alexia hadn't so much as looked your way once she had started to kick the ball around with the children. you knew how important it was for her to bring something worthy back to her hometown. she wanted to make things better and help in every way she could think to.
"i don't think i have ever been so proud of her," eli said, breaking your focus on alexia. you nodded in agreement. this meant the world to alexia. "i know that you do not feel like it, but i am proud of you too. you helped her more than you know, mija."
you had never been good at taking praise, and now was no different. your cheeks heated up with a mix of embarrassment and shame. truthfully, you didn't feel like you had done anything for alexia. this was all her, you had just been her girlfriend for the most part.
"gracias eli." you bowed your head towards alexia's mother.
"i mean it, talk to her. have the big conversations that you are afraid of, nothing bad can come of it. your love is special." it was hard, but you did take eli's advice that night. alexia had brought you back to her childhood home for the night, even if her bed was far too cramped for the two of you to get comfortable.
"you did good today, ale. everybody is so proud of you for this, it's going to be amazing," you told her. alexia smiled as she turned just enough to stare at you in the light coming from her tv. "i wish that i could do something special to help people. sometimes i feel like nothing. i mean, you've had a pretty impressive string of girlfriends."
"you are nothing like any of them, you're different."
"ale, that's not exactly comforting," you chuckled. you knew that alexia didn't mean it like that, so you couldn't help tease her.
"it's... different. with them, i spent most of my time longing for something that wasn't accessible. i didn't know what it was until you came alone. with you, i simply feel alive. all of this, i did it because i felt like i could with you supporting me. don't ever feel like nothing because to me, you are everything mi amor." alexia cupped your cheeks and leaned in to kiss your forehead. you scrunched your face up a bit, only to relax it again after alexia gave you a proper kiss. "now, let's get some rest. i promised the girls i would come to the park bright and early for a pick up game."
#answered#woso x reader#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso blurbs#alexia putellas imagine#alexia putellas x reader
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The One With
Joey's Food
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Joey Tribbiani
x
Reader
Summary: JOEY DOESN'T SHARE FOOD... However it seems that rule might not apply when it comes to you.
Author's Note: Someone asked me to publish my Joey fanfics, so this one is for you. <3
ps. I made that iconic Joey's Meatball Sub, it really made me feel alive again.
New comfort food unlocked
ー
You were so tired, and hungry.
Oh dear, you could eat a horse right now. Or maybe not if that meant eating the entire horse.
Finally you got yourself inside being greeted with everyone else except Joey.
Where was he? You could really just snuggle against your friend to forget all your worries. Joey felt like home, he felt safe.
Except Chandler would disagree with you, strongly, not that you could blame him after that robbery thingy.
"It's a zombie! Everybody, run!", Chandler shouted while jumping behind Ross and pushing him towards you.
"Hey!", Ross squeaked realising that Chandler, his best friend since the beginning of time, was sacrificing him to this supposed 'zombie'.
"Hahaha", you laughed a dry sarcastic laugh while getting your jacket off.
"What happened to you?", Rachel asked noticing your disheveled look.
"Your eye bags-", Rachel was saying before you gave her a stern look that did shut her up.
Monica also gave Rachel an are-you-serious look before helping you sit down at the kitchen tables chair
"Work huh?", Monica asked already knowing what was behind your current state.
Before you started to explain Joey made a grand appearance with his iconic sandwich. It makes your stomach growl and mouth water.
Joey sat at the table next to you, he gave you a tender look before getting ready to destroy his food, with the intention of not leaving even crumbs behind.
"So. I got to work a few hours early because my boss asked me to and as we know my boss, I couldn't refuse-", you started taking a deep breath.
"I had my mom's cooking for lunch, but there was so much going on I didn't have time to eat. And when I finally did- that ass had eaten it! My food! It was supposed to be the only good thing today, and it was taken away from me", you rambled trying not to break down completely.
"Oh, this reminds me of that 'MY SANDWICH' thing", Chandler said looking at Ross who just looked back at him shooting daggers out of his eyes.
"Oh, this gets much worse. I confronted that- idiot and it got a bit heated. Long story short, I got fired", you ended your story leaving out the details of wandering around the city crying your eyes out.
"Let's celebrate!", Phoebe cheered from the couch making everyone turn to look at her.
"Yeah, you hated that job! More than I hated serving coffee!", Rachel said trying to comfort you.
"I didn't hate the job, but the people", you muttered burying your face into your hands.
"That's my girl!", Chandler cheered giving you a quick pat on the back before hurrying towards the armchair.
Your stomach made a loud noise and you felt truly awful.
"Do you have anything to eat Monica? I don't have anything at home", you asked carefully your voice cracking slightly.
"I need to go quickly to the store-", Monica started hurrying to gather her stuff.
"Here, you can have my meatball sub"
The time seemed to slow down.
Phoebe stopped chewing her hair.
Rachel had her hand covering her mouth that was hanging open.
Monica dropped her purse to the floor.
Chandler almost fell off the armchair.
Ross had a look on his face that would be expected if someone would prove to him that dinosaurs had never existed.
You lifted your head to see Joey smiling and offering his food, to you, you.
Joey had a small amount of the sauce on his face.
"I already took a couple of bites if that's okay", he said looking a bit sheepish.
"Really?", you asked voice slightly shaky, knowing that nobody else dared to move or speak.
Joey nodded and you reached towards him. But to everyone's surprise you didn't take the sandwich.
However you got up and put your arms around his neck. Burying your face to his neck you mumbled so many thank you's that nobody could say exactly how many there was.
Maybe ten? Hundred? Hundreds? Who knows.
Then you gave a kiss to his cheek before pulling away and snatching the sandwich from him.
Eagerly you started eating it and you moaned slightly at the most delicious thing you had ever eaten.
"JOEY DOESN'T SHARE FOOD!", everyone suddenly shouted after they switched glances between each other.
Joey tried to look like he had no idea what they were talking about, his face was oddly red and he was feeling warm and fuzzy.
Joey loved seeing you happy, he could sacrifice one meatball sub for your happiness.
But only one.
When Joey looked at you eating happily his favourite Meatball Sub he couldn't even see anything else than you. He didn't even care about his friends who were still shocked and wanted answers.
Joey would give you every meatball sub for the rest of his life if it meant seeing you so utterly happy.
But he wanted a bite, at least.
ー
#joey tribbiani x reader#joey tribbiani#friends#fanfiction#rachel green#monica geller#chandler bing#phoebe buffay#ross geller
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