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pinescent-and-gingerbread · 21 days

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✧ All the graces from Heaven

✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Summary: Arthur and you enjoy a steamy morning at Strawberry's Hotel, much to the outlaw's delight. ✦ Warnings: SMUT 18+, MDNI! Oral (both reader and Arthur receiving), 69, a bit of fluff if you squint, porn without a plot, Arthur is more of a high/mid honor but loses it and gets a little bit rough, established relationship. ✦ Words: 2,6k ✦ a/n: Yeeeaah so. This is basically a 69 fic, it's pretty filthy and a bit less figurative than my usual works. Just pure smutty smut. I hope you'll enjoy it still! Pic is mine, not proofread! And as English isn't my first language, prepare for some misspellings.

The bedroom of Strawberry’s Hotel is filled with chuckles, and full of scattered clothes on the floor. Leathered boots, two shirts tangled together, jackets and holster belts thrown away messily on furniture. As a lighthouse in the middle of the sea, a black gambler hat stands tall hung on one of the bed's huge footboard legs over this tide of abandoned clothing.

Above it, the old wood creaks as two people mess with each other under the blankets, threatening to make the worn hat fall from its perch. Both are nude as the day they were born, and glued to each other as if they were wearing the other one’s skin.

You and Arthur had quite a time, last night. And since you had woken up, it was nothing but sweet words, cuddling and tickling. Teasing each other had become a private religion between you both, his sarcastic comments always met with a witty answer from you. It made him love you even more.

“Come on darlin’, stay.” Arthur’s deep voice asks you, as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, his nose impregnating with your smell, eyes closing on their own.

He feels good, there. It's in these simple shared moments, those laughs you sew together, those fingers and body you intertwine, those deep and dreamy conversations about your brighter future you share that Arthur finds his remedy. As if after all this life of surviving and fighting for a greater cause, a bigger picture, it was the simplest of things that appeared like an epiphany to him when it came to happiness.

You being the main source and Messiah of most of these humble pleasures, of course. His personal angel.

“You know I can’t. You may have the morning off for once, but I have somewhere else to be. Hosea needs me at the Tracker’s Hotel for a job.”

Arthur doesn’t hide his annoyance and grumbles against your skin, something about “Damn jobs always in the way” and “ The old man can wait a lil’ bit more.”

It makes you smile. As tempting as staying in bed all morning with a naked Arthur seems, especially considering how you can feel his fat cock feeling so soft against your hip, you feel self-conscious about leaving Hosea alone on your mission. You turn your head to the side to kiss your lover’s head, his sandy locks tickling your nose.

“Alright tough guy, time to go.” You decide before getting up in a sitting position, then crawling to the end of the bed to grab your ungarments.

“Not so fast, lil’ missy.” He objects with a low chuckle, obviously enjoying this little chase after you.

Before you can reach your aim, Arthur snakes his hands around your thighs and pulls you back to him in a quick and powerful motion, handling you as if you were the lightest feather, which makes you let out a squeal of protest mixed with surprise.

His laugh resonates for a second and then, he freezes. You had ended up on all four on top of him, but usually, your face was turned to his. This time, Arthur's nose is met with your plump rear, your chest to the other side, just above his crotch. You can feel his body, underneath you, getting tensed. This gigantic, massive, muscled body, so big and tall that his chest feels larger than a tree trunk between your spread legs. What was innocent playing for him just seconds ago had turned into a needy tension between the both of you. The air suddenly feels thick and a silence settles, a tense calm on the shore before a Maelstrom.

Your blouse and Hosea are a long time gone when you realize you can feel his breath on your pussy, the sensation making you shiver. You try to get up from the position, thinking he wouldn’t like to have his face shoved in your intimate parts, but his hands grip tighter and stop you, grounding you in place. You turn your head to him as much as you can considering your situation, taking an interrogative look at his face above your body.

His cheeks are red. Dark red. His eyes are fixated on your entrance, throat swallowing with difficulty. His bust rises and falls heavily, pectorals muscles swelling up before relaxing and rising again. He sighs, and you feel it again, hot air all against you, all against your now aroused and needy slit.

“We hum… We never tried like this…” He starts, voice low and suggestive about what he's implying, his hands traveling from your thighs to grab your ass, one hand for each cheek. They’re so big and firm, and feel so good there, as he squeezes, again and again, driving himself crazy as he admires how the perfect heart shape of your rear looks all squished under his fingers.

“You sure you want-”

Before you can even finish your sentence, Arthur answers it by pressing his lips to your pussy, exhaling through his nose and tightening his fingers on your flesh. This man always had such huge self-control for every dangerous situation known to mankind, but right now, it seems like he couldn’t resist taking a bite when having your perfect cunt under his nose…

A sharp and depraved noise leaves you, making his body burn like redden coal, his mind consumed more and more by your whole being and the simple feeling of your wetness all against his face. His whole universe reduced into this touch, lips against flesh, saliva mixing with arousal. Your sinful nectar and his.

“God, honey!” You whine, back arching without your permission, body moving backward to him, searching for more, needing more.

“Taste so goddamn good… Never gonna have enough of ‘this…” He rasps between a few more kisses to your folds, as a praise or a statement, you’re not sure, and he’s not either as words just flow through him and he lets them out without a drop of restraint or reflection. A rough, unstoppable river. That's how he feels every time he eats you out.

His tongue slowly slips out of his filthy mouth and licks your folds, slowly, tortuously, from bellow aaaall the way up to the inside of your ass. You could have been scared of not being clean enough for him or feeling nervous about his face almost buried in there, but the sound, the moan he had made suppresses all these anxious thoughts all at once.

You have to face the obvious: he’s loving it.

“Aah- Arthur…” Your hips roll against his face, desperate for some more friction, unsatisfied and so aroused by his teasing.

“You go on moanin’ ma name like that and am gonna come without ya even touchin’ me, darlin’.” He warns you, voice hoarse, lips mumbling against your folds, his beard and mustache tickling you just the right way.

You answer his words with a deep sigh, the filth of them burning you to the core. He laps at you the same way again, in one then two long and slow licks, as if savoring you like the finest whiskey he would have tasted. A mewl leaves your lips after each one of them. You’re starting to get impatient, and he knows it, he knows you after all those intimate moments. He stops his lips right at the entrance of your core and gently slides his right hand between your thighs.

The way he has to fold his arm to touch you there isn’t comfortable for him, his bicep being way too big to be crushed like that; but hearing you, feeling your thighs clenching and the appreciative words you let out when his fingers land on your sensitive bud is worth this slight pain. Always putting other’s needs before his own, always being devoted and loyal, always finding happiness in being useful, that was Arthur’s nature. And the bed was no exception to it.

“Was you not supposed to go somewhere?” He asks cockily in a falsely innocent tone, brimming with sarcasm and smugness.

“P-please, Arthur… Quit the teasing, for God's sake…” You ask, trying not to sound too pitiful, probably failing at it.

“A lil’ needy after all, ain’t ya? Ma sweet girl…” He coos, and you can feel his lips stretch into his usual grin, his heart gorging with pride and excitement to have this sort of impact on you.

Bending to your wishes, his fingers start to rub and trace tight circles on your clit as his mouth makes love to your pussy, his tongue delving in as deeply as he can, and the pleasure finally hits you like an earthquake. It feels so good, so damn good, your breathing quickly turning into loud moans.

Your head snaps back forward, and your body pushes your rear up all against him as a cat who would stretch after a nap. Arthur hums in delight and appreciation, unable to speak but encouraging you still. He increases his pace, his digits quick and sharp and so precise against your sensitive spot.

Your face falls down as every fiber of your body hardens, and that’s when your gaze is caught on his cock. Your pussy clenches hard around his tongue just by the sight of it.

It looks so hard and swollen that it must be painful for him. His hips buck forward into nothing, his member almost hitting your chin, with every lick of his tongue inside you. His round and reddish tip is leaking, pre-cum spurting out even more than usual, flowing all the way down into his dark curly pubic hair. His pants would have been completely soaked if he was wearing them.

You're salivating.

It would have been cruel to let him like this, right?

Focusing on him to try and not collapse from your own pleasure, you suddenly press your chest against his belly and take his cock inside your mouth without any warning. The taste of him, this strong saline flavor, fills your mouth.

“Damn!” Arthur shouts in surprise, momentarily parting his lips from yours, fingers slowing their pace. “Jesus, girl!”

This time, it’s your turn to grin, as much as you can, considering how big Arthur is between your lips. You don’t let him any time to think or protest, knowing he would insist that you’d come first.

The way you're crawling on top of him makes it even simpler for you to suck him off, your head naturally placed at the right angle on top of his crotch, and you take advantage of that. Finding support on the mattress with your arms, hands gripping his legs, you bring your mouth up and down hard and fast, sucking his shaft with such vigor you can feel his body squirming underneath you.

“Ngh-! Darlin’! S-stop, slow down! I ain’t gonna last like this!” He tries to plead but his words are drowned in a flood of groans and harsh sighs.

Despite what he’s saying, his body acts in the exact opposite way, hips jerking, cock shoving into your throat at the same time you’re working him. He tries, he really tries to keep on pleasuring you back while you work him, but he feels like he’s completely losing himself, unable to do anything else, to focus on anything else at all.

Your breasts pressed against his belly, his face buried in your pussy and ass, each of your thighs surrounding his head, and your goddamn mouth around his cock, this devilish tongue sliding all around it… He's completely losing his head. It's like being drowned in an Ocean of You. It’s too much. It’s way too much at once for a simple man. A simple, weak, mortal man feeling like he’s receiving every grace of Heaven all at the same time.

His basic instincts win the best of him. His arms are now wrapped around you, pulling you flush against his body, a hand back on your ass cheek, the other on your neck, spurring you into moving your mouth just like he needs to.

“Oh, shit! Yes, go on, go on, take it!”

You've rarely seen him losing his temper like this. He's usually gentle and soft, patient with you during sex, savoring the moment, making it last as much as possible, playing you like an Andante movement from the most sophisticated piece of a symphony.

Right now, he's unchained and rough, rushing to the Grand Finale without minding about false notes, drunk from you and the sensation of warmth he is feeling on every edge of his body; face, chest, cock, every inch of him merging with every inch of you.

He groans all against your pussy, as your saliva drools from this erratic pace. His fingers grip your head and ass tighter as he chases his high carelessly, already coming, way too soon and fast for him. His cock stiffens even more as he fucks your silky mouth, veins gorging with blood, tip throbbing in the back of your head.

“Aaah- Damn… Good… Girl!” He growls loudly with a thrust of his hips after each word.

The last one is followed by a loud and throaty whine, higher-pitched and vulgar, the kind of sounds he would usually let out when being hurt.

He shuts his eyes in a pleasured-filled frown as he pushes his face even deeper between your legs and, more from instinct than anything else, sucks hard on your cunt while he comes, lost, so lost in a sea of primal bliss and pure organic pleasure. His large body burns and tenses one hard final time, and you can feel the path of his cum traveling along his length against your lips as he releases inside you.

It fills you, his saline and strong taste blinding your other senses, cum as hot and sinful as his state, and you exhale with satisfaction as you swallow both this remnant of his ecstasy and the last drops of his sanity.

Arthur falls back heavily on the mattress, completely spent, his sweat staining the white sheets, his hands loosening their grip. Before removing them from your body, he allows himself a playful little spank on your butt as he speaks again, a revenge not strong enough to his liking for your sneaky move.

“Jesus, you’re… completely wild...” He sighs, his heart slowing after having beaten like war drums.

He’s still panting, mouth open and covered with a mix of this sweet cocktail of saliva and arousal. He licks his lips, feeling so satisfied, the sensation of your body everywhere on his skin still vivid and present. Like a stamp of black, indelible ink that has left its mark on a blank sheet of paper.

“You really enjoyed all this, didn’t you?” You ask back while getting off him, legs a bit shaky, your throat starting to feel a bit sore from the intensity you had chosen to go with. “I haven’t heard you whine like this for a long time…”

“I don’t “whine”.” He scoffs, knowing damn well he did, and suddenly feeling ashamed of the sounds he had made and guilty for the rough behavior he had displayed. His negative feelings are soon brushed off though, thanks to your beautiful and mischievous smile enlightening him.

“Yeah yeah, keep telling yourself that. I’ve still got ears to hear, Mister.”

“Hush. Now come here, 'gonna make ya feel as good and miserable as me from finishin’ that fast.”

His eyes burn with that fire he has. The one reserved for you and the excitement and adrenaline of action. You already know there's no way you'll walk out of this bedroom without being completely satisfied.

“Tonight. I’m already way too late to-”

“Now.”

The piece of clothes remains abandoned on the floor as the bed creaks again, that old gambler's hat only witness of Arthur's payback to you.

After all, he never liked leaving a job unfinished.

tagging some people who were interested in the scenario! : @amyispxnk @a-court-of-valkyries @fleouris

#pinefic #rdr2 arthur #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x you

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youryanderedaddy · 7 months

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tw: female reader, non - con, pet play, victim - blaming

Eric laid it out since day one - you can be his lover or his pet, and it all depends on you and your behaviour. But you don’t believe him - you push at his chest and you turn your head when he tries to brush his lips against yours. You squirm when he wraps his big, muscled arms around you, and your lips pucker in denial when he tries to feed you. But what’s even worse, what really makes him tick, is when you try to run - when you wait for him to cross the threshold, all soft and doe - eyed as you finally, finally let him kiss you goodbye. When you act like a good fucking girl for once, just so he can let his guard down and forget to lock the door.

You don’t make it far. You spend approximately thirty seconds in blissful unawareness, having the sun caress your naked skin for the first time in months, the birds chirp and tweet, spring is in the air… And then the alarm goes off, triggered by the tracker installed in your shoulder.

It’s all your fault, really, Eric says. You could have everything. You could have a hot breakfast in bed and hundreds of kisses adoring your warm body. He could take a shower with you every day before work, carefully washing your hair, thoroughly rubbing the sweet flowery shampoo into your roots and massaging your scalp just like a husband would for his wife. He could adore you with his whole being. He could make love to you, softly, gently - slowly working you to wet ecstasy with his fingers and tongue before he finally takes you on your back just so he can look at your face lovingly the whole time.

You could be his equal, he reminds you. You could have all these teeth rooting - sweet, painfully domestic moments - when he hugs you from behind as you bake a pie, burying his face into the crook of your neck as he inhales your lovely cinnamon aroma. When you fall asleep in the middle of a movie and he sighs with unhidden tenderness, carrying you to the bedroom - careful not to wake you up from your adorable, peaceful sleep. When you grow old together, thirty years from now, and he still remembers to buy you your favourite newsletter along with your coffee, the one with the double sudoku pages.

But you won’t, and he won’t, because you fucked up. You decided you needed less than him - less than his love. And that’s fine by him, he still loves you. He could never stop loving you, and if you want him to play the villain, if you want him to be your cruel master - for him to shorten your leash, who’s he to deny you?

So he buys a thick pink collar with his initials on it and the most adorable heart - shaped pillow which he lays by his office chair. You stare at it, dumbfounded, unsure what he means by all that - yet Eric is anything if not clear in his intentions. He drags you in by the hair, kicking, screaming and all, shoving you towards what he calls your new home. You feel your eyes prick with hot, humiliating tears, growing even more puzzled. But your captor just coos at you understandingly, patting your head as if you’re a wild animal, as he explains that, if you really want to act like a bitch, he has no problem treating you like one.

He has no problem fucking you instead of making love to you, knees spread far and wide apart in the air, almost reaching your chest as he plows into you with little consideration for your pain aside from a chuckle here and a pinch there. He can live without kissing your soft, beautiful lips if it means he still gets to bite and squeeze and abuse any warm flesh available. He can bear not hearing your breathless voice sing him praises if you can still scream and cry for him just as prettily - when you bruise and mark just as darkly, when you let him grip and grope you just as possessively.

And when you whine and sob, asking him if he still loves you - and if he does, how he lives with hurting you so, he reminds you that this is the path you chose yourself. After all, he doesn’t need to be a lover, not when you refuse to hold your end of the deal. He just needs to love you, even if that love ends up crushing you.

#yandere #yancore #male yandere #yandere smut #male yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere male x reader #yandere x you #yandere oc x reader #yandere drabble

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mostlysignssomeportents · 2 months

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“Carbon neutral” Bitcoin operation founded by coal plant operator wasn’t actually carbon neutral

I'm at DEFCON! TODAY (Aug 9), I'm emceeing the EFF POKER TOURNAMENT (noon at the Horseshoe Poker Room), and appearing on the BRICKED AND ABANDONED panel (5PM, LVCC - L1 - HW1–11–01). TOMORROW (Aug 10), I'm giving a keynote called "DISENSHITTIFY OR DIE! How hackers can seize the means of computation and build a new, good internet that is hardened against our asshole bosses' insatiable horniness for enshittification" (noon, LVCC - L1 - HW1–11–01).

Water is wet, and a Bitcoin thing turned out to be a scam. Why am I writing about a Bitcoin scam? Two reasons:

I. It's also a climate scam; and

II. The journalists who uncovered it have a unique business-model.

Here's the scam. Terawulf is a publicly traded company that purports to do "green" Bitcoin mining. Now, cryptocurrency mining is one of the most gratuitously climate-wrecking activities we have. Mining Bitcoin is an environmental crime on par with opening a brunch place that only serves Spotted Owl omelets.

Despite Terawulf's claim to be carbon-neutral, it is not. It plugs into the NY power grid and sucks up farcical quantities of energy produced from fossil fuel sources. The company doesn't buy even buy carbon credits (carbon credits are a scam, but buying carbon credits would at least make its crimes nonfraudulent):

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/31/carbon-upsets/#big-tradeoff

Terawulf is a scam from top to bottom. Its NY state permit application promises not to pursue cryptocurrency mining, a thing it was actively trumpeting its plan to do even as it filed that application.

The company has its roots in the very dirtiest kinds of Bitcoin mining. Its top execs (including CEO Paul Prager) were involved with Beowulf Energy LLC, a company that convinced struggling coal plant operators to keep operating in order to fuel Bitcoin mining rigs. There's evidence that top execs at Terawulf, the "carbon neutral" Bitcoin mining op, are also running Beowulf, the coal Bitcoin mining op.

This is a very profitable scam. Prager owns a "small village" in Maryland, with more that 20 structures, including a private gas station for his Ferrari collection (he also has a five bedroom place on Fifth Ave). More than a third of Terawulf's earnings were funneled to Beowulf. Terawulf also leases its facilities from a company that Prager owns 99.9% of, and Terawulf has *showered * that company in its stock.

So here we are, a typical Bitcoin story: scammers lying like hell, wrecking the planet, and getting indecently rich. The guy's even spending his money like an asshole. So far, so normal.

But what's interesting about this story is where it came from: Hunterbrook Media, an investigative news outlet that's funded by a short seller – an investment firm that makes bets that companies' share prices are likely to decline. They stand to make a ton of money if the journalists they hire find fraud in the companies they investigate:

https://hntrbrk.com/terawulf/

It's an amazing source of class disunity among the investment class:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/08/money-talks/#bullshit-walks

As the icing on the cake, Prager and Terawulf are pivoting to AI training. Because of course they are.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/09/terawulf/#hunterbrook

#pluralistic #greenwashing #hunterbrook #zero carbon bitcoin mining #bitcoin #btc #crypto #cryptocurrency #scams #climate #crypto mining #terawulf #hunterbrook media #paul prager #pivot to ai

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azsazz · 4 months

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Pirouettes & Promises

Mafia!Azriel x Ballerina!Reader

Summary: Anon Req: Can u do a Mafia az and ballerina reader?

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1029

Notes: Not the best, but I tried.

_________________________________________

There’s nothing that Azriel likes about this.

Well, that’s a lie. He likes you, up on stage in your perfectly blush pink outfit. He likes the likes the way the lighting washes over you, how your eyes light up when you nail a move that you’ve been practicing both in the studio or in the middle of his living room. He had all the furniture moved for you specifically, even offered to build you your own studio somewhere within the high rise, because there is no one more important than you.

He's still a little irked that you shut that idea down, preferring to take the trek to the other side of town to practice in the dingy little studio that has zero security for you. He knows this, of course, because your shiny new vehicle is fitted with a tracker, and because of the very details reports from his security detail. He bets you don’t know about the robbery that happened at the bodega on the corner of the block. The kid was fifteen and only trying to steal a bag of chips, but Azriel doesn’t like when any crime is too close to you.

That’s about everything about this situation he does like.

From his vantage point in one of the expensive boxes that he had no trouble putting on his card, he can see the entire audience. The way that they sit, silent in their seats, because your dance has completely hypnotized everyone in the theater. Some are leaned forward in their seats as they watch, utterly enraptured by you.

Azriel doesn’t like the way that everyone’s eyes are on you, watching the ways that you move and bend. You’re always so graceful, even when he’s pinning you to the mattress and fucking you through your fourth orgasm with tears in your eyes and bruises on your neck.

He wants to send his men in and reign terror on the crowd.

They’re scattered all over the place like a bunch of ants. There’s at the very least one guard by each door. Two outside his own private box, and his most trusted security detail are with him, flanking him on either side, ready to throw themselves in front of him should they need.

You don’t know that there’s one waiting outside of your dressing room, making sure no one slips inside and tampers with anything in your room while you perform. You don’t know that there are men waiting on either side of the stage, or in the crowd. Azriel spared no one from his employment on tonight.

He almost invited Rhysand, one of his most trusted colleagues, but thought better of it. They’ve been companions since their college days, but it’s best for them not to be out in the open together. Rhysand tells him that he’s too paranoid, but Azriel doesn’t care, because you are the most important thing in the world to him, and he will do anything to keep you safe.

Your final move never fails to take his breath away. Azriel’s seen it before, many many times, but with the addition of your costume and makeup, the sultry music and the sensual lighting, you are a dream. He can’t take his eyes off you.

You fucking nailed it.

There’s a beat of silence while the crowd stare in awe, before the theater erupts in thunderous cheers. You hold the pose for a moment longer before relaxing out of it, a beaming smile on your face as the excitement washes over you. Your chest heaves with the effort and your eyes rove the audience, drawn immediately to Azriel, where he’s standing on his feet just like the rest of them, clapping for you. He might not be grinning down at you, but he may as well be with the upturned corner of his mouth, as much of a smile as he’s willing to show in any public situation.

You know that in the bedroom later, he will be all smiles and compliments. Your stomach flips in anticipation, and you refrain from blowing a kiss in his direction because it will no doubt draw eyes toward your lover.

His smile falls when people begin tossing things on stage. They’re flowers, roses in a bloodred color that look like spilled blood on the floor. Your smile falters when he’s ushered from his suite and force yourself to focus on the rest of the attendees, smiling in gratitude and taking a bow.

You snag a rose from the floor on your way off the stage. Your fellow dancers and coaches alike are ready with hugs and congratulations on your dance, and you take a few moments to revel in their kind words. Azriel having been ushered from the room is not uncommon, but you were hoping he would at least stay until you exited the stage.

You get it, you really do, that he’s an important man with many enemies, but there’s a sting in your chest that he left so quickly. You want to embrace him, fall into his warmth and revel in the feeling of your perfect performance. You want his hands around your waist, holding you as tightly as possible, whispering words into your ear that make your pussy clench.

With a sigh, you shove your way into your dressing room, only to squeak with surprise when you spot Azriel, sitting on the couch, waiting for you.

He looks like sin, arms splayed wide, resting across the back of the couch. He looks as handsome as ever with his finely black, pressed shirt unbuttoned and showing off the dark curls of tattoos that ink his skin. Your mouth runs dry, even more so when he smirks at you.

“You did wonderful, sweetheart.”

You fling yourself into his arms.

Azriel catches you, because he always will, and cradles you to his chest, peppering kisses to your cheeks with a whispered, “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you,” you murmur back, looking up at him like the lovesick girl you are. He’s looking down at you in much the same way, and your heart beats hard in your chest when Azriel dips his head to capture your lips in a sweet, sensual kiss.

#mafia!azriel #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #azriel au #azriel shadowsinger

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gojoest · 1 year

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non-explicit but suggestive, creampie implied, MDNI, gojo is being dramatic after he wakes up without you in bed

it smells like the sun, satoru thinks, as he wakes up to the sunlight creeping in through the blinds, hitting his face with a warm glow. his eyes are still closed, a soft smile spread on his lips elicited by the memories of last night, of you chanting his name like a little prayer as your bodies were locked together. the longer he thinks of it, the bigger his smile grows. the way your face flushed and contorted as he dived into you, the way your hands grabbed his hips to push him even deeper, the way your fingers intertwined and your foreheads pressed against each other until you both came down from your high.

*slap*

“shit”, he smacks himself across the face because his smile started evolving into little giggles, “shit”, but also because something down there, between his legs, was evolving, too, “calm down there, buddy. not now. first, we need to find our cute runaway lover who sneaked out of bed while we were sleeping still”

satoru knew you weren’t in bed the moment his consciousness awakened. he didn’t have to open his eyes to see it nor to reach his hand to your side of the bed only for it to end on the empty mattress. he knew, simply because he always holds you in his arms when in bed, even when you toss around and slip away from his embrace in the middle of the night, his hands find you and pull you back where you belong. it’s an automatic reflex of his body that doesn’t require his brain to create the action. it’s a need, to always be as close as possible to you.

it's a struggle for him to open his eyes now and actually see that you’re not there. a voice at the back of his head, a quite dramatic one at that, tells him to keep them shut until you come back so he doesn’t have to witness your shared bedroom without you in it.

but he beats the urge eventually, a big pout present on his face. why would you deprive him of the feeling of waking up next to you in the morning. what a cruel thing to do, he thinks before grabbing his phone from the nightstand. seeing the picture of you on his lockscreen quickly chases away the pout replacing it with a soft smile.

“but i want the real thing”, he purses his lips again and dials your number.

“how dare you” is the first thing he says as soon as you pick up. you can not only hear the pout in his voice from the other side of the line but almost see it on his cutely dramatic grumpy face, “how dare you sneak out and go grocery shopping without me?”

“oh, you miss me already?”, you let a chuckle out, “i am on my way back, can you hold on for 15 more minutes and not die without me, mm?”

“i can’t promise... my heartbeat is slowing down, i can feel my internal organs shutting down one by one, you have to hurry up or it will be fatal”

“you’re such a baby, satoru”

“exactly. and who leaves a baby alone at home and casually goes grocery shopping? you. you are bad-bad”

you can’t help yourself but stop in the middle of the street and start laughing heartily, “sorry, baby, it won’t happen again. but then again… how did you know i was out grocery shopping?”

“i put a gps tracker on you”

“you what?”, your eyes widen at his words. no, he can’t be this crazy, right?, you think.

“yea, it’s the dna i put inside you last night. it’s like part of me is with you, so it’s only natural that i would know where you are at any given moment”

“you know what, you’re the worst”

#ઈઉ — ai writes #[ ♡ ] — satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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tanglepelt · 1 year

Text

Dp x dc idea 39

Danny is Bruce’s bio kid but only finds out because his parents disowned him and Danny ended up being the teen titans unofficial feral sometimes member.

Danny has a new identity that has been emancipated curtesy of tucker. Danny broke the portal before he left so no more ghost problems.

Danny ends up in a new town working at a coffee shop and taking classes online. He has a trashy one bedroom apartment.

He ends up occasionally helping out this hero group called the teen titans. He doesn’t like the adult hero’s.

I need a paranoid person so it’s the teen titans with Tim drake. I need questions to be asked. Plus i feel like Danny and Conner would have fun sparing.

i imagine Danny like a stray cat. If they spook him he hisses and goes invisible. Food is a good way to coax Danny out. I like feral Danny. So he definitely bit at least one of the members.

As he warms up to him they find out more about him. That his parents essentially kicked him out. He got his powers in a lab accident. Apparently food has attacked him. A godfather who wants to forcibly adopt him and a bunch of concerning information.

Even with this Tim can’t figure out who is the white haired green eyes civilian identity. he just goes invisible when he leaves and trackers just don’t work. It’s driving him nuts.

During one fight danny gets injured and is forced back to his human form. Tim now knows who he is as he frequents the coffee shop Danny works at.

Danny begrudgingly agreed to have his dna tested. Not for identity but because none of the medical supplies worked on him. Stitches dissolved and pain meds did not work. Besides he is adopted so it’s not like a family match would help them find his real identity.

The dna gets run by tim. Nothing pops up for Danny but Bruce Wayne pops up as his biological father.

Bruce had no idea he had a second son. Danny just wants to avoid the billionaire attempting to enter his life. No more fruitloops for him.

#dp dc crossover #danny fenton #danny phantom #dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #teen titans #tim drake #feral danny #Danny tries to nope it out of there #it’s much harder to hide when they know what his human form looks like #Bruce is peeved no one told him about his second son #the fentons didn’t actually adopt him #they found him in the woods abandoned #so even with the bio moms name they can’t find out he’s a Fenton #and not a nightingale #he had no legal papers to begin with #they don’t tell danny for a while #Batman has to win over feral phantom first #it didn’t help #danny was like I’m done with rich ppl #i already have one after me #not allowing two #he is not a clone either #they checked #jazz and him have constant contact #jazz tells him to give him a chance #or at least get back pay on child support #get out of his trash apartment

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starkeyisthelastname · 7 months

Note

Walkin in on rafe jerkin off 😋

You’d be getting back from your little weekend girls trip, excited as can be to get back to your Rafey. You hated being away from him and it was rare you were. With him working so much lately, he had suggested you to something fun while he finished business. Of course he had a a tracker on your phone at all times to keep tabs on your pretty little self.

“Rafey.” You giggled, calling out his name as you set your pink little suitcase by the door.

You frowned at the quietness in the large house, checking his office first to see the computer off and chair empty. You then walked upstairs and towards the bedroom door, seeing it was cracked. Your eyes widened at the sight of your boyfriend, dick in hand as he brought it up and down. His shirt was lifted up, exposing toned abs and sweatpants pulled down out of the way.

You were staring, never having seen your boyfriend do something like this. He usually would lay into you for hours if you were naughty and touched yourself. He stayed quiet for the most part, his mouth slightly open in small groans as he jerked his hand back and forth.

You didn’t realize you had been pressing on the door until you stumbled in the space, gasping at how’d you been caught watching him. Lazy blue eyes opened as the look on your face.

Dick still in hand, he shook his head in disbelief. “Next time try not interrupt me when I’m about to nut.” Rafe said, as if he didn’t make you stop when he caught you.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron prompt #rafe concepts #rafe coded #rafe core #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smut #obx smut #obx

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spidernuggets · 9 months

Note

No. 18 "Plea- Please. I can't be hated by you, I just can't" with reader saying this to Jason because he just found out that the Joker is her father

Jason Todd x Joker's Daughter!Reader

"Plea- Please. I can't be hated by you, I just can't."

You tried long and hard to fall out of your father's tight grasp of holding you hostage, telling you many times that you are his flesh and blood. His family. His face and name.

He's repeated that no one in the world will ever love you except him. And even if someone did, if they find out who you're related to, they'd instantly stop loving you. No one in the world is aware of your existence except for him and a few of his goons. Not even Batman knows that the Joker has a kid.

You've watched the Joker torture, maim, kill so many innocent people. You've watched him force other men who can't fend for themselves to work for him.

And for what? Your father does this for a good laugh. Because he's bored. Because he wants to play Tag with Batman.

But with endless lectures and monologues from the Joker, somehow, you remain to stay sane. But every time you tried to escape his hold, he somehow still managed to find you. How does he do it?

You found out from overhearing a discussion to kill Batman that the Joker would use Scarecrow's fear toxin on you to do his bidding, knowing that maltreatment wouldn't get you to do what he wants. And upon this discussion, you hear that you can't escape. That you could never escape from him. He planted a tracking chip, under your tongue.

You instantly ran to what is labelled as your bedroom. But in reality, it's just a small, cramped space with mould growing in all corners, cracks in the walls, and dried blood stains on the floor. But toss an old mattress there, and suddenly it classifies as a bedroom from dear old dad.

There's a shattered mirror hanging on one of the walls. You grab a shard off the floor, staring into the mirror, looking desoerate to take the tracker out. As soon as you lifted your tongue to rip out your tracker, you hear the Joker call for you.

"Ohhh, Y/n, my sweets!" He bellows. You drop the shard, turning to look at your dad with an unamused expression on your face, replying with a harsh 'what'.

"Clear up the attitude, hm? There's someone I'd like you to meet!" He declares, almost in a tune. Your face scrunches in confusion. Joker says no more as he walks away, expecting you to follow, as you do.

You follow him down to the ground floor of the warehouse. And you're shocked to see Robin tied up with barbed wires to a wheelchair. His face is busted, there's dark circles under his eyes, but no one would notice them seeing how bloodied his face was, and his head was hung low.

He looked scared, confused. He looked like he'd given up on trying to escape.

"Meet boy blunder 2.0!" Joker cheered, picking up his crowbar, giving Jason a swing to the leg. Jason grimaces but doesn't scream in pain. He already looks so dead. Joker scoffs in boredom. "Not playing, I see," he mutters. "No matter! I'm quite finished with you anyway. But first!"

The Joker brings out a camera, putting it right in front of Jason. You're confused as to why you were brought down to witness this. You have an understanding that the Joker would kill Robin, but you have no control over what he does. You try to help Robin, and your head would have a bullet in there.

"How long has he been here?" You quietly ask.

"Oh, you know.." The Joker chuckles. "A month... a year? Same difference," he cackles as your eyes widen.

He starts recording, and you don't realise you can be seen in the corner of the background of the footage. The Joker goes on and on with his usual, riddled speeches. Within that, it is revealed to you that this new Robin is identified as Jason Todd, who claims to hate Batman.

"Hey..." The Joker suddenly says to Jason. "I never asked. What's the big secret? Who is the big, bad bat? What's his name? Tell me!" he calmly says.

"Of course, sir. It's-"

No matter how many times you witness your father murder an innocent person, you'd never get used to the sound of his gunshot. Or the sound of his crowbar against bruising flesh. Or his maniacal cackles of dekight when he kills someone. Especially someone who is... was close to Batman.

"Never could stand a tattletale. See, my darling, Y/n?" He says to you. "This is why I work alone. No one to spoil the punchline!" He grands the camera, bringing it to get a closer look at the dead boy in front of you. "You should try it sometime." At this point, you don't know if he's talking to you or the camera. You assume this video footage would be sent to the Bat.

The Joker finishes up the footage, tossing the camera to you as you clumsily catch it. "Export the footage, my sweets. Then, send it to the coordinates that I'll send to you in a bit," he instructs to you.

"Why can't you do it?" You carefully say, trying not to get on his bad side.

"Because..." He hisses, harshly grabbing your face with a firm grip as you winced. "I told you to do it. Now go."

You glare at him, going to go export the footage and send the taoes to the coordinates, in which you assume is where Batman would be currently located.

A month later, everything is quiet. The Joker and most of his goons are out to raid Scarecrow's cookery. You take this opportunity. You head to your room, looking dead in your eyes through the mirror. You slowly open your mouth, sticking your finger in, trying to feel the lumo of where the tracker is situated.

When you find it, you grab a shard, placing it directly over the tracker. You attempted to muffle your whimpers as much as you can to make sure the rest of Joker's goons don't hear you. You were finally able to pop the tracker out, and you hold it up between your eyes, your focus on the blinking light that somehow blinds you. It makes your eyes water, but you drop the tracker to the ground, leaving it there. You're aware that if you step on it, it might send a signal to Joker, indicating that the device he planted in you had been damaged.

So you left it there in your room, you pack whatever shit you can, and you attempt once more to escape that damn warehouse. For the uears you soent in there, you took note of usually unguarded exits and the routines of your dad's goons.

And with that, you successfully stepped foot out of the warehouse. And you took no extra second to bolt away as fast and as far away as you can.

With your bolt for freedom, you go to the closest drug store. Thanks to dear old dad, you managed to steal some essentials. Vitamins, bandages- oh. And some hair dye. You go to whatever public restroom you could find. You got your pocket knife and started to messily cut your hair, along with applying every last drop of that hair dye.

You decided to stay along the outskirts of Gotham. You were never able to get out of the warehouse, so staying in Gotham, a somewhat familiar setting would be safest for you.

And since the outskirts are the poorer sides of town, where the Joker wouldn't be interested in torturing the already tortured, you knew that he wouldn't be a problem for a good while.

So you went around, figuring the in and outs of the outskirts. It's been another few years, and you've forgotten all about the Robin fiasco that occurred in the warehouse. You even forgot that he willingly revealed his identity.

The past few years had been hectic. There was a new Robin roaming around, a new crime lord emerged by the name of Arkham Knight, whose name had died down a bit and is now working alongside Batman... you think?

You were able to get a stable job at Bat Burgers. Luckily, seeing as it's a cheao, greasy fast food place, they didn't need any formal documents. You were able to rent a run-down apartment (which was a huge upgrade to your decomposing room back at the warehouse) and with a little extra cash, you were able to buy snacks for some of the kids along the outskirts.

You were fishing through your bag for your wallet when you bumped into someone, and you hit your face prettg hard against them.

"Ow! Watch it, nitwit!" You snap at them, but they scoff.

"You're the one not watching where you're going," he bites back. And you were about to make a snarky comment, but when you looked up at the stranger, you swear you saw an angel. He was tall... very tall. He also had gorgeous green eyes and a few scars on his face that made him somewhat more attractive.

Your silence indicates to him that you have nothing else to say, and he scoffs once more and leaves. You shake your head away from the thought of how good-looking he was and continued your way towards the grocery store.

You picked up a few meats and vegetables you were going to offer to the soup kitchen down the road, not forgetting to put some candy and snacks in the basket for the kids that would be there.

When you checkout, you headed straight for the soup kitchen, immediately greeting Diane, the owner of the place,with a sweet smile and a wave. You say hi to the other volunteers when you make it to the back of the kitchen, dropping off the plastic bag full of produce, telling the others you won't be long.

When you step out, you're instantly tackled by a bunch of 6 and 7 years olds hugging you tightly, all of them talking at once saying how much they missed you.

"Okay, okay," you laugh with the kids. "Hey, guess what I got," you bend down to their level, lowering your voice, as they all copied you, looking more secretive and quietening. You then whip open your bag, reveal various treats for them as the kids squeal with excitement.

"Alright, alright, one at a time!" You exclaim, happy ti see the kids enjoying their time.

When you wrap things up, you hug the kids once more, saying goodbye and that you'd see them soon. But when you swiftly turn, your face is once more met with a solid surface.

You take a step back, grabbing your nose. "Ow! Shit- again?!" You hiss, your eyes tight shut as your hands apply soothing pressure to your not really broken face.

"You know you shouldn't curse. There's kids around."

You look up, getting a sense of deja vu, seeing the same pair of emerald green eyes looking down at you smugly.

"Ugh.. you," you groaned, secretly glad you got to see him again... just wanting to admire the view, you guess.

"Ugh, me," the handsome stranger mocked with a grin. He stuck his hand out, interested to officially meet the person who continuously walks into his chest. But also, the person who manages to make these kids smile in just a split second.

"Jason."

You raise a brow at his extended arm, shaking it cautiously. "Y/n..." You say, shaking his hand. Didn't he know a Y/n from somewhere?

You notice him wearing an apron. "You volunteer here?" You question as Jason nods his head.

"Whenever I get free time. I only started volunteering recently. Otherwise, I'm just doing whatever. How bout you?"

"Just visits here and there. I don't have time to volunteer fully. Just drop off some food and snacks most of the time, though," you explain, and Jason smiles.

"Well, your time here definitely seems to cheer up those kids. They're always frowning," he says sadly, but you just shrugged.

"It's not much. It's all I can offer. This side of Gotham really isn't Wayne manor," you joke, unaware that you were having a conversation with a son of Bruce Wayne. Well... not until Diane comes up.

"Ah, Y/n! You've met Jason Todd!" She cheers.

Jason Todd. Where have you heard that name before? It's starting to itch the back of your mind.

"Yeah, glad you got another volunteer since you're getting fewer people to help out," you say with a sad smile.

"I know, but it's not every day you get a son of Bruce Wayne to volunteer in a little kitchen," she happily says. One of the workers at the back calls out to Diane for some help. "Well, better get back to work! See you soon, Y/n!" She happily says as she walks off to the back.

Your brows are high, and your eyes are wide as you stare at Jason. "You're... You're a Wayne?!" You say shockingly while looks down at you.

"You didn't know? I'm kind of famous," he starts to say as you look at him cluelessly. "Was announced dead but was actually alove, just gone missing?"

"Nah, doesn't ring a bell."

"Wow, you don't get out much, do you?" He laughs.

"As much as that is an interesting tale to tell, I'm not interested in rich people business," you say as you glance at your watch. "Look, it was nice talking to you. Sorry for walking into you or whatever, but I gotta go. Late for work," you explain as you were about to bolt out the door. But Jason stops you by grabbing your hand.

"Wait! I... I kind of wanted to get to know you more. Can.. I get your number?" He awkwardly asks.

"Oh..." You quietly say. "I... Sorry, I just... Don't have a phone.." You say in embarrassment. But it doesn't seem to bother Jason.

"Oh, well... where do you work? What time would you finish? I can.. uhm. Drop you home if you want?" He offers, and you smile.

"Batburgers. 9pm, " you say as Jason nods and you finally run out the door, sprinting to work.

As promised, Jason comes to visit you half an hour before your shift ends, talking to you about the soup kitchen as you wiped down a table.

When you walk out with him, you notice that he's walking you towards a motorcycle.

"You ride a bike?" You ask.

"Yeah, is that okay?"

"Is it okay?? It's sick!" You exclaim as you hop on behind him once he gets on. Under his helmet, he smiles, thinking how cute your reaction was, as he hands you a spare helmet.

He would be lying if he said his heartbeat sped up when you wrapped your arms around his waist. He just met you. He shouldn't be so nervous around you like this.

"So... would you be free any time this week?" He asks as he walks you up to your apartment complex. You insisted many times you can go on your own, embarrassed for Jason to see where you lived in comparison to Wayne Manor, but Jason assured you that he wouldn't care.

"I have work for the rest of the week," you reply in disappointment. "But... I guess I do finish pretty late each night... wouldn't mind a ride back," you say in hopes that Jason would accept your request of taking both a lift off of him, and his time to talk to him more.

He smiles in response, agreeing to pick you up after work as you gave him your schedule.

Your routine of Jason picking you up during the late nights after work continued. Soon, the two of you went out on actual hangouts through Gotham for a few weeks. Then those weeks turned to months. And soon, Jason frew tired of just being friends with you.

How the hell was he supposed to just be friends with you when his heart raced when you smiled. Or when his cheeks burn when you compliment him. Or when his stomach flutters when you hug him.

How the hell was he supposed to just be friends with you when he's trying so damn hard not to kiss you just because you looked so cute.

Ao he grew himself a pair and asked you out.

Obviously, you said yes.

And another of a couple of dates later, you made it official. Jason was so down bad that he asked you to move into his apartment. You told him so many times you didn't want to intrude his space, but he just called you dumb and ridiculous (which you took great offence to). But eventually, you caved in and agreed.

During this time, you have never felt so loved before. Jason made you forget that the Joker existed. That he was even your father. Jason proved the Joker wrong. There is someone who can truly love you.

But... then your relationship started to get messy. He stopped picking you up from work. He was out late at night, and he wouldn't tell you why. You found him early next morning laying on the couch. He wouldn't even come to bed anymore?

You continuously asked where he's getting these bruises and wounds from. But he wouldn't answer that either. He just told you that it wasn't your business and to leave him alone.

Today, he woke up around noon. He rubbed his eyes and cracked his neck, clearly another uncomfortable sleep.

He was looking around his surroundings when he sees a duffle bag by the door. He then hears from the oppostie side, a door being closed. He turns to see you dressed and with no clear expression on your face.

You've acknowledged that he was awake, but you refuse to make any eye contact with him. You head straight to the door, picking up your duffle bag, fishing through your stuff as you find what you were looking for while Jason remains on the couch confused.

"Where are you going?" He calls out.

"Home." You spit, pulling the spare keys that Jason gave you for his apartment and slammed it on the desk beside the door.

Jason instantly gets up. "W-what? But- But you are home! This is your home! Our home.." he says, panicking.

"Is it? Is our home, Jason?" You yell. "Because you're never here! And when you are here, you're sleeping. Then, you wake up and you go out. And you get hurt. And you're not telling me how or- or why! I don't know if you're cheating or if you're in a fight club, but clearly, you don't want me to know, and clearly, you don't care if I'm worried about you. So, yeah. I'm going home. Oh! And it's over," you hiss, glaring at his, reaching for the door knob.

"Wait- wait! Please. Please, I'll explain," Jason begs, as you turn, a stern look on your face.

Jason sits you down, telling you not to freak out.

Ans you've never hated yourself more than you do now. Jason tells you that he was Arkham Knight, now going by the name Red Hood. And that he used to be the second Robin.

You wanted to scream and cry. That's where you heard the name Jason Todd from. Jason Todd was murdered right in front of your eyes. Jason Todd was tortured by your father. Jason Todd was killed by your father. Jason Todd os dating his murderer's daughter.

You play it off. Saying that it all makes sense. Why he doesn't pick you up anymore. Why he's always out so late. Why he gets so many wounds and bruises.

You'll tell him. You'll tell him who you really are. Soon. It's not fair if he doesn't know. Especially since he's coming clean now.

You'll tell him soon.

You didn't know when soon would be. Every time you think soon is coming, the moment disappears.

Jason's either in too much of a good mood or he's having a breakdown and a nightmare. He has nightmares about the Joker torturing him. And it's you who's there to snap him out of it. It's you who's there to comfort him. You comfort him, telling him that the Joker isn't here. But you are. You tell him that you're there for him.

You feel so guilty. You tell him the Joker isn't out there to get him. But there you are. His own flesh and blood, cradling him, shushing him, whispering sweet nothings to him til he falls asleep once more.

You'll tell him soon.

You grew even more guilty when Jason brings you over to Wayne Manor, and Bruce, Dick and Tim welcome you with open arms. Bruce had this... look in his eyes. But you ignored it nonetheless. Jason gives you a tour of the Manor, even shows you the big cave downstairs, and takes you to his old room. You try to stay optimistic, joking about how he was such a berd, looking at all the classic books laying around. But then you came across an old photo of him. He's younger and in his Robin suit. He looks happy. It was obvious Robin meant so much to him. And your dad took that away from him.

You'll tell him soon.

One day, you went into the cave after receiving a call from Jason.

"Why did you call me here?" You asked.

"Joker's dead." Was all he says. And you froze. You don't know how to feel. Relieved? Does this mean you don't have to tell him who you are?

"I know this is random, but... Superman killed Joker. I don't know if I can finally breathe, but... I don't know. There's a tingle inside of me. Telling me that the Joker is still alive and out to get me."

Shit.

You'll tell him soon. You'll tell him soon, right? Maybe now? Like, the Joker's dead. You've shown nothing but love to Jason. He'd believe you. He'd believe you are not your dad. You'll tell him. Yeah, you'll tell him soon.

Jason sighs and plays the tapes. The tapes that the Joker sent to Batman when he was Robin. And your eyes widen.

"Why the hell are you watching that??" You say in complete fear. The camera that the Joker used was old and glitchy with horrible quality. But as Jason played the tapes, you could still make out that there's a half of a figure, just peeking through the camera in the background behing the tied up, young Jason Todd.

"I don't know... Trying to find a conclusion. If anyone had to kill Joker, it should've been me," Jason says with a low voice.

"Hey... I never asked. What's the big secret? Who is the big, bad bat? What's his name? Tell me!" The tape plays, displaying on the huge screen in front of the two, and you swear you'd throw up any second now.

"Of course, sir. It's-" Before the gun gets shot, Jason sighs, pausing and rewinding.

"I'm sorry. This is all so dark and heavy." Jason grumbles. You don't say anything. You're focused on the small blur in the corner of the footage.

As Jason stares as the paused footage, he mentions, "That doesn't look like one of his henchmen."

Tell him.

"Fuck me, is that another kid?" he mutters angrily to himself, leaning in, taking a closer look at the footage.

Fucking tell him.

Jason takes a breath and presses play, and the video starts with a bang.

Tell him, god dammit.

"Never could stand a tattletale. See, my darling, Y/n?" The Joker says through the video. And time stops. Was the cave always this quiet? The video is still playing. How is it so quiet??

The camera wobbles as the Joker picks it up. He walks closer to Jason's dead body, but for a split second, you're in full, clear view. And Jason pauses the video. You weren't moving. You didn't look scared. You looked fed up.

Jason is silent. That's not you. That can't be you. Jason's head turns from the footage of you to you, currently standing behind him. No, no. That's not you. Your hair colour is different. But your face has the same bone structure.

"Y/n," he calls out. Your name is now so bitter on his tongue. "Tell me that, isn't you. He meant something else, right? 'My darling'? What the fuck does that mean? He was just scaring you, right???" Jason questions, his voice raising each sentence and his bottom lip quivering.

Your eyes are blurry as tears threaten to fall. You walk to Jason, bending down, looking up and you place you hands ever so gently on his knees.

"Jason," your voice cracks. "I wanted to tell you so bad," you whimper.

And Jason lets out a harsh, sarcastic laugh. "Fuck me. Don't fucking tell me you were working with him. You're a real fucking psychopath working with him at what? 13?" He spits, tears cascading down his scarred cheeks.

You shook your head. "Jay," you tried to sweetly call out to him. "I'm his daughter," you pathetically admit.

Jason's eyes widen to the point where it looks like his eyes would detatch from his sockets. He shakes his head slowly. But then, he shakes it faster, harsher.

"That isn't funny, Y/n," he almost chokes saying your name.

"No, it's not funny," you say. "But it's true," you start crying.

Jason pushes you away. You fall back as Jason stands up, towering over you. You've never been so intimidated by him before.

"You're his daughter? The Joker has a daughter?" Jason whispers in disbelief. And you nod in response. "So what the fuck were you doing just standing there? Ha.. What? Did you enjoy watching him put me through hell?"

"Jason- No! I wasn't even there when he-"

"LIAR!" He yells, his voice echoing across the cave. His breathing becomes heavy and uneven.

"Jason, you're going to have a pani-"

"Get out." He says.

"W-what?"

"Get. Out. If I ever see you again, I'll end you. I may not have been able to kill Joker myself, but you? Making me think you loved me? Fuck, is this why you only tell me now? Because daddy's dead? Just get the fuck out and never see me ever again. This is your only chance," he says, looking away from you as you finally start sobbing.

"Jay- Jason. Please," you beg, shifting to your knees, looking up at him. "Plea- Please. I can't be hated by you, I just can't." You pleaded and begged and prayed that Jason would look at you.

But Jason knows that if he looks at your state, then he might forgive you. Might forget the situation. But he can't because your father killed him. And all in his mind is that you used him because you were working with his dad. And that you're only crying because his dad got killed and that you got caught. So, no. He won't look at you, and he won't forgive you.

"Jason, please, you- you're the only person who has ever made me feel loved," you sniffled. "And I- I wanted to help you then. Help you escape. But I couldn't, please! Please believe me, Jason, please," you cried harder.

"You weren't supposed to see that."

You and Jason's heads turn to the voice. Bruce comes out of the elevator to the Batcave, walking closer to the pair.

And all Jason could see is red.

"You knew?" He snarled. And then scoffed. "Well, yeah, of course you knew. You didn't even kill Joker when you found out he murdered me- You didn't even care!" Jason yells. "I don't care that Penguin or- or Riddler are out there. They didn't kill me! They didn't kill thousands- millions! The Joker did! And you kept him alive! Now that he's dead, guess what! His daughter is right here under our noses! And you knew! Do you hate me that much that you let the Joker's daughter into our home?"

"Jason, plea-"

"I TOLD YOU TO GET THE FUCK OUT!" Now that Jasin finally looked at you, all you saw on him face was pure spite and anger. There was no more love for you left in his eyes. Just pure hatred.

And you finally got it. Jason doesn't love you any longer. And your dad was right. Even if someone loves you, when they find out who you're related to, they will instantly stop loving you.

The Joker was right.

So you got up and shamefully left the cave, and once you reached the manor, you can still hear Jason screaming and roaring.

You were numb. You finally got a tatste of what true love felt like, and it slipped through your fingers ever so quickly.

And now the only person you thought ever loved you would kill you if he saw you again.

So you left. You took your stuff from your- Jason's apartment and left Gotham. Now, future generations would probably read about the Joker in their history books. But not on a single page, paragraph or sentence would your name be mentioned. Because only two people in the entire world knew who you were.

One of them was your father's sworn enemies. And the other was your father's victim. One of these people, you hardly knew, but he knew who you were and still trusted you and welcomed you into his home. The other didn't know who you were. And you loved him. And you were positive he loved you too. But once he found out your identity, he loathed you. And he wanted you dead.

god damn that was long

pt 2

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lokiswifeduh · 4 months

Text

Doll, please

Pairings- Mob!Bucky x Fem!reader

Summary- Bucky is taken by the reader's ex-boyfriend. You go to save him, not knowing it was a trap.

Warnings- crime, violence, mention of drugs, angst, minor fluff, character being shot, cussing, torture, graphic violence.

WC- 2.6k

masterlist

James was taken, that was definite. The reason was still unknown. Of course, many people had motives. He runs the city. Being the head of organized crime. He had eyes and ears everywhere. He moved drugs and was the owner of most clubs, restaurants, and companies.

His only weakness is you.

However, Rumlow didn't take you. He took Bucky. You knew that for sure.

"Steve, please tell me you know a location. Something, anything?" The blonde looks down at the computer, wanting to give you some form of information. But comes up with nothing.

"I'm sorry, we still don't have anything."

You groan, putting your head in your hands and groaning.

"Boss' tracker went dark before he made it across the bridge into Brooklyn." Sam walks in, throwing the last known location that was printed down onto the table.

Your head perked up, running over to look over the information. "So let's go check it out." But Steve shakes his head, "No." "Why not?!"

He moves forward, getting slightly in your face. "Because that bridge has over five thousand people on it hourly." He throws the paper out of your hands and into the trash bin next to the door. "Buck may be missing but damn it I will not endanger you in any way in his absence." "But Steve-" "No!!" He shouts, making you flinch slightly. "You stay put where it's safe until we know why and or how he was taken." You let out a long breath, "Fuck this." Taking long strides you run out of the room and to your and Bucky's shared bedroom.

"Watch her." Steve mumbles, making Sam nod.

There was protocol, you knew that. If there was ever a reason why Bucky couldn't run things, Steve was the one who was appointed to take over. But just as Bucky would have it, Steve would never put you in danger. Which made it harder for you to help.

Or Steve would think.

You paced in your shared room, trying to think of ways you could leave, a way you could find your husband. You fiddled with the diamond ring on your finger when suddenly your phone pinged with a text.

You ran over to your bed, grabbing your phone with both hands.

CALL THIS NUMBER IF YOU WANT YOUR HUSBAND BACK ALIVE

You went to the dial pad, dialing in the number with shaky hands and pressing call. It rang four times before picking up. All you heard was silence before you spoke, "Hello, James?"

"Not James, sweetheart." Your heart stopped as you heard the voice of your ex. Brock.

"W-where is he? Is he okay? Is he safe?"

Brock chuckled, requesting to Facetime, to which you accepted; facing the camera up in an attempt to conceal your face.

He switched the camera around, revealing a dark and bloody room, focusing on some steel tools before he panned over to Bucky.

The state of your husband shocked you, making you almost drop the phone. "James?" His face was bloody, cuts and scratches tore his cheeks and jawbone.

His wrists were red, blood dripping from them as the wire that held him down cut into his skin. a knife was sticking out of his thigh, and his chest was adorned with deep lacerations that even you could tell needed stitches.

"Doll?" He lifted his head. His blue eyes had lost the sparkle they had not only a day ago as he looked into the camera.

"Hi love," Tears streamed down your face as you looked at how much damage and torture he had been put through. "I'm so sorry. I promise we're gonna come find you okay? I promise." You hiccuped, sobbing as you watched him grimace in pain.

"Baby don't come. Send Steve. Please, don't come-"

Your husband was silenced with a punch as you yelped. "Stop! Brock, please." The video was taken off of Bucky and went back to Brock. You could still hear him groaning in pain in the background as your ex-boyfriend smirked.

"I'll let him go. But I need you to do one thing for me princess." You gulped, hearing Bucky scream and protest as loud as he could in the back.

"What?" Brock punched Bucky one more time, silencing him.

That only brought more tears to your eyes as you gulped, seeing him give you an evil smile. "You, for him." "You want me?" "I will let Bucky go, as long as I have you in my possession."

You bit your lip, thinking it over. Wondering about how you would even get away. But in the back of your mind, the schematics didn't matter. All that mattered was Bucky being free, even if that meant sacrificing yourself for it.

"Where do I meet you?"

You once again could hear Bucky protesting in the back but tried to keep a straight face while looking at Brock. He smiled again, "At the corner of East 96th and Park." You gulped, realizing how close that was. Brock must've known where your and Bucky's shared home was.

"And you promise you'll let Bucky go right?"

Brock nodded, "For old times sake princess."

You thought it over for a moment, before wiping the still wet tears on your cheeks. "What time?" "You'll meet my men over there in an hour and they'll drive you to the location." "No," You shook your head. "My husband gets dropped off before I even think about going with you." "Ahhh," Brock sighs, turning the camera back to Bucky before landing yet another hit against his already bleeding cheek. "That's not how this is gonna work, sweetheart."

"Okay! Stop!" You screamed, "I'll be there in an hour. Just please don't hurt him anymore."

"Sounds like a deal." Brock sneered, ending the Facetime.

You broke down, falling to your knees on Bucky's side of the bed, clawing onto the covers. You could still smell the faint scent of your husband. The musky pine and balsam were almost gone as you laid on his side all night, crying yourself to sleep.

You had to do this. Steve and Sam were no closer to finding or retrieving him. And you knew they wouldn't let you go alone, or go at all. You just had to find a way to sneak out without anyone noticing.

Thankfully you still had an escape route from when the house was being targeted by HYDRA's men and you needed to get out for your own sanity.

You realized you had been crying, staring at the framed picture of you and Bucky on your wedding day. Looking over at the clock, it was almost time to meet Rumlow.

You slipped on some black leggings, putting on a long-sleeved black shirt and a jacket. Opening Bucky's nightstand drawer, you grabbed the Glock he kept in there and two hand knives.

Slipping one knife into the holster under your shirt and the other one in your boot. Finally hiding the Glock in the back of your pants under the jacket.

Now all you had to do was slip out without Sam, Steve, or any of Bucky's men seeing you. You knew Steve had for sure put you on lockdown.

You opened your door, seeing one guy turn the corner at the end of the hall. You stealthy moved, closing your door behind you, and walked to the other end of the hall, opening the usually locked door to the armory.

Thank god Steve had unlocked it earlier when they thought they had a location.

Moving to the computer in the corner, you disabled the cameras that were placed on your and Bucky's bedroom door. Shifting over you scooted one of the gun racks out of the way, trying not to make too much noise as it revealed a hidden door behind.

You silently thanked Bucky's mom for making an escape door in the brownstone.

Unhooking the latches from the door, you slipped inside the small space and closed it behind you, carefully descending down the ladder. You jumped to the bottom, opening a door to the alley.

The steam from the subway got in your face as you locked the door behind you, blocking your view. You felt a hard hit on the back of your head as you fell to the ground on your knees. You touched the back of your head, feeling the sticky blood on your fingers.

Another hit made you fall all the way down as you rolled over, looking at who your attacker was. "N-Natasha?"

"Night night...doll." One final hit to your skull and everything went black.

-----------------

The first thing you felt was restraints holding your wrists down. Pounding in your head made you not want to open your eyes. But you could swear you heard someone yelling your name.

Lifting your head with as much strength as you could muster you wearily did, squinting.

"Bucky?" You mumbled, still out of it.

"Doll? Wake up, honey. You gotta look at me."

You opened your eyes more, seeing a bloody, tied-up Bucky in front of you. "James!" You tried to stand up but as you did wire cut into your wrists and ankles. "Ah!" You screamed in agony as you looked down at your wrists which were starting to bleed.

"Doll, don't move, okay? It only makes it worse." Your eyes shot back up to Bucky.

"Are you okay? Where is Brock?"

Bucky shook his head, "He hasn't been in since they brought you in here." "Natasha. She hit me in the head." You remembered, wincing.

"I know," Bucky groaned, "I'm gonna fucking kill her for betraying me." You felt your head pound again, making you groan in pain once again.

"What hurts, baby?" Looking Bucky in his eyes, you saw the worry and guilt he held for this. "It's okay. I'm okay." But he could see the pain your body held. Blood dripped down your neck from the back of your head. An open wound was still bleeding on your forehead, and your chest heaved up and down as you tried not to cry. He vowed to protect you and here you were, tied down and bleeding.

"I swear, I will get us out of here, doll. I promise." Bucky gave you the best smile he could when suddenly the door opened. Revealing Brock, and the traitorous redhead behind him.

You kept your head high, not showing your distaste as Rumlow grabbed the front of your neck with his hand, bringing his mouth to the shell of your ear.

Bucky however did, pulling on his restraints which only made blood drip from his wrists more. "Touch her again and I'll have your fucking head, Rumlow."

Bucky's threat only made Brock laugh as he removed his hand from your flesh, allowing you to take a much-needed breath.

"This is how this is gonna go, Barnes." Rumlow walked over to a table, picked up a pair of pliers, and walked back over to Natasha, handing the rusty tool to her.

"You're gonna tell me the codes to that locked safe you have in Moscow. You know the one."

Bucky gritted his teeth, watching how Natasha pulled up a chair, playing with your hand which was still tightly wired down.

"Or what?"

Brock looks over to Natasha, giving her a nod. The redhead puts the head of the pliers on your index finger, pulling it backward, slowly ripping your fingernail back; eliciting a guttural scream from your throat.

"Stop!!" Bucky screamed, but the torture continued. Blood poured from your finger as you pulled and tried to twist away. "Okay! Stop! I'll tell you anything! Stop!!"

The rusty metal was released from your hand as tears streamed down your face.

Rumlow pulled another chair up, sitting in between you and Bucky. "Now that wasn't so hard was it?"

Bucky's brows furrowed in concern, looking only at you. "Doll, I'm so sorry."

You shook your head, "It's not your fault, Buck."

"So, what are the codes?" Rumlow looked over to your husband as Natasha slipped iron knuckles onto her hand. "Don't tell him." You groaned out, knowing Bucky would lose everything he'd built if he gave that information away.

"Shut up!!" Natasha screamed, slamming her fist into your face, the iron weapon hitting your cheekbone and nose, causing your head to whip to the side. You screamed, more tears coming to your eyes as blood started to pour from your nose.

"Stop!" Bucky screamed, "She doesn't know anything! She doesn't have anything to do with this!!" "Oh, but you do." Brock stood, walking behind you and maneuvering your face to look right at your husband. Your chest heaved as you couldn't breathe from your nose without blinding pain. Blood dripped into your mouth and your right hand trembled.

"And this lovely specimen is your only weakness."

Bucky shook his head, "I'll give you everything, just let her go."

But Brock tutted, also shaking his head in disappointment, "I need collateral, Barnes."

"You won't get anything out of me if you hurt her."

Rumlow laughed, "Oh, I bet I will." Moving out of the way, Natasha stroked your face three more times with the weapon, knocking you unconscious.

A tear slipped down Bucky's cheek, "Please, stop. You can have everything." He pleaded, not being able to take his eyes off your beaten and broken body. A sob escaped his chest. He hadn't cried since the day of your wedding, and this was breaking him to his core.

Rumlow moved the chair in front of Bucky. "What's the code."

Bucky gulped, "The code.." He sighed, closing his eyes, "It's her birthday." Opening his eyes, he glared at Rumlow. "It's her birthday." Brock grinned evilly, "Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" Standing up, he threw the chair to the side, moving over to you and cutting all your restraints off.

You fell to the floor, startling you awake. However you didn't move, your body not being able to gather the strength.

"I gave you the codes, Rumlow! Let her go!" Brock turned back, Natasha and him both standing at the door. "You really think I would let you both out of here alive?" His head pulled back as he laughed. "Not a chance, Barnes." Natasha opened the door, and ten men walked through all with guns, lining up in a row. "This city is mine now."

Closing the door behind him and Natasha, a loud speaker squeaked. "You have thirty seconds to say your goodbyes before the firing squad shoots you both to pieces."

Bucky gulped in fear, not noticing you lifting your boot to grab the knife that was inside.

"Doll, you gotta get up!" Bucky shouted, watching you struggle to pull yourself to stand. The ten men readied their weapons, aiming at you and Bucky. You were surrounded.

Finally, you pulled your body up, hobbling over to him with the knife as you tried to cut the wire from his wrists. "You gotta get out of here, doll." You shook your head, "I'm not leaving you." Tears streamed down your face, hearing Rumlow count down. "I won't"

"Doll, please." Looking up at Bucky finally, you let out a sob you had been holding. Ten seconds left.

"I vowed to stay by your side, Buck." Looking back, ten guns pointed at you. You knew what you had to do. "Doll?"

You dropped the knife, straddling Bucky's lap in the chair, wrapping your arms around his neck, and protecting his vital organs with your body. "NO! Doll, please!!"

The men cocked their guns. "Doll!! Stop!! Get up!!"

You shook your head. "I won't let you die!!"

Suddenly bullets rang through the air, but you kept your head down, your body shook into Bucky's as you felt two bullets hit. You screamed, still attempting to hold onto your husband. Bucky sobbed, "Don't do this to me." You looked up, shakily holding his face in your hands, "I love you, James Barnes." Blood dripped from your mouth, "Till forever and always." "Doll, please."

Everything went black.

Fin

part two

masterlist

#buckybarnes #fanfic #bucky angst #marvel #bucky barnes x reader #fanfiction #oneshot #bucky imagine #one shot #light angst #angst with a sad ending #avengers #fluff #james bucky barnes #mob!bucky #mafia!bucky #bucky barnes fanfiction #husband!bucky

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dreamescapeswriting · 1 year

Text

Stray Kids Reaction || You're Not Answering Your Phone [Mafia Edition]

⤜MASTERLIST

CHAN:

Chan did his best not to freak out when you called him, he knew that you were responsible and he could trust you but after four hours of you not answering your phone, it was beginning to send him into a worrying spiral.

"Changbin, I want you and Jeongin to go out into the city and look for her, she could be anywhere. Seungmin, I want you to try and track her phone pings, and see where it last went off." Chan was so busy ordering his men around that he hadn't heard the front door open and close while you walked in casually,

"Hey baby, I picked up some Chinese food for dinner. I didn't want to cook tonight." You called out before stopping in the doorway to see Chan staring at you along with all of his men.

"What?"

"Where have you been?! I've been worried sick!?" He panicked rushing over to you and holding your face in his hands, turning your head side to side as if he was looking for any sign that you weren't okay or that you were hurt in some kind of way.

"I went into town, to get my phone fixed...Remember?" You tried to jog his memory and as soon as you did he began to flush a bright red colour and sweat gathered on the back of his neck.

"O-Oh yeah...Right," He laughed awkwardly as he turned back to his men who were all smirking in his direction.

MINHO:

As soon as your phone continued to go to voicemail Minho lost every rational thought that there was in his mind and he was ready to throw caution to the wind and find you. He was already having Felix track your GPS in your car and then if that didn't work he was going to get him to track and find you with the GPS tracker on your phone. Maybe he was a little overprotective when it came to you but he always wanted to make sure that you were safe.

"I can't stand the thought of something happening to her," He ran his hands through his hair and tugged at the strands a little groaning as he tried not to think about it too much. There had to be some kind of logical explanation for it all,

"Yn's GPS shows that she's in the building," Felix stated as he turned to look at his boss who frowned and rushed over to the screen.

"Search the house," He ordered before running up the stairs to search every bedroom in the home that you shared, god, why did he have to have such a big house. He swore to himself that he was going to move,

"Yn?!" He breathed out as he walked into the library to see you fast asleep on the sofa that was inside there,

"W-What?" You groaned waking up and staring at him as he rushed over to you, holding you in his arms as he called off the search on the rest of the house.

CHANGBIN:

"I have all the time and resources I could need to find her and yet she's nowhere to be found?" Changbin paced outside of the building your car was parked in front of, The security inside of the door wasn't letting him inside and he was ten seconds away from blowing their heads off.

"Do you know who I am?!" He boomed out but the men stared at one another before turning to look over their shoulders. Changbin followed their line of sight and you were standing there with an unimpressed look on your face,

"Where were you?" He'd been panicked all morning and seeing you standing there in a robe and sweating a little he was starting to feel a little bad.

"In the spa! I told you I was going to the spa," You smacked his chest as he made his way over to you. You'd been telling him for weeks about your trip and he'd been all for it, telling you how much you could use the break.

"I was in the middle of a massage when I had to come out and stop my husband from killing someone." You glared at him as a blush began to take over his cheeks.

"I forgot."

"Hmm." You still didn't sound impressed with him and he smiled a little,

"I'll make it up to you."

"You will. By letting me go back to my massage and you go home," You pushed your finger into his chest and he nodded, kissing your cheek quickly.

HYUNJIN:

Every single hospital was being checked within walking distance of the house, then every hospital in the city was being checked as well as everyone calling any hospital that they could think of to try and find you.

"She has to be somewhere!" Hyunjin cried out as he stared down at his laptop,

"Why do you think she's in a hospital?" Chan questioned as Hyunjin looked down at his phone, The last thing you'd text him was a photo of your favourite cafe and then you went radio silent. No phone calls were going through, text messages weren't being delivered,

"Because she has to be injured if she's not responding to me."

"Spoken like an overprotective husband." Chan teased before instantly wishing he hadn't judging by the look on Hyunjin's face. It might have sounded overprotective but you'd always told Hyunjin if you suddenly didn't respond then something was wrong.

"We got her," Felix called out as you walked into the office building, rushing over to your boyfriend as you panted heavily.

"Hyunjin, I've been trying to get up here all day. I-I got mugged and they took my phone, my ID, everything, I couldn't call and then-" You couldn't finish your sentence as you were suddenly wrapped in his arms as he sniffled a little, just relieved to have you alive and with him.

JISUNG:

Jisung wasn't clingy by any means but when you weren't answering your phone for two hours he was beginning to get a little worried about it and calling you constantly. He must have called your phone over 250 times by now and he didn't know what was going on, had he scared you that morning? You'd walked in on him in a meeting and he was yelling at the guy. Did it scare you enough to never speak to him again? He called your phone again as he walked through the front door of your shared home,

"Call me. Please." He begged into the phone, freezing when he walked into the living room to see it surrounded by darkness safe for some fairylights and the giant flatscreen TV being on,

"What's this?"

"Birthday surprise," You smirked looking at him and he frowned,

"It's not your birthday-Oh, it's mine." A blush took over his face as you walked him into the living room and sat him down on the sofa,

"Is this why you haven't been answering your phone?" He gestured to the table that was filled with home cooked goods and you giggled, nodding your head.

"I didn't mean to worry you, you know I cant lie to you so I thought if I ignored you, I wouldn't have to lie." You smirked before he dragged you to sit down with him.

FELIX:

The door to the public library was booted down before people began yelling for everyone to get down on the ground, your head shot up from the book you were reading and you turned to see your boyfriend looking around panicked. You instantly glared at him, of course, he would do something this overdramatic and insane just because you were gone for the day.

"Felix!" You cried out before looking around at all of the other terrified people who were inside the library.

"You weren't answering your phone," He said as though that was ever going to justify knocking down a door and scaring a whole bunch of people.

"Because it's off when I'm in the library." You gestured around you before shutting your book and sighing at him, you couldn't believe he would go to this lengths to find you.

"I left a note in the kitchen for you. Which you would have seen if you'd had breakfast this morning." You scolded him and he blushed a little, instantly apologising to everyone inside the library as he got his cheque book out ready to fix any damages he may have caused.

SEUNGMIN:

Your phone had been off ever since Seungmin had yelled at you that morning and you'd refused to turn it on, You knew it was probably going to cause another fight when you got home but you didn't care. After the fight, the two of you'd had that morning you'd been feeling petty.

"Have you checked at her friend's places? She has to be somewhere," Seungmin sounded stressed as you walked past his study and you stopped in your tracks, peeking through the door to see your husband looking dishevelled.

"I don't care if you checked. Check again!" He boomed before hanging up the phone and downing the scotch that was in front of him. You slowly pushed the door open more and he stared at you,

"Yn?" He quizzed as you walked further into the room, stopping on the opposite side of his desk, he was a mess and you felt guilty.

"The one and only."

"Fuck, baby." He rushed toward you and held you tightly in his arms,

"I'm so sorry about this morning, I'm so so sorry," He held you tighter and tighter until you were sure he was cutting off your air and you whined and began pulling back.

"I'll never fight with you again, just please never run off." He begged as you nodded at him, both of you sitting down to discuss your fight.

JEONGIN:

Jeongin knew that you could look out for yourself, it was one of the things he loved about you but it was scaring him when you continuously ignored his text messages. Worry began to cloud his judgment as he thought about all of the things that could possibly be going wrong with you. Maybe you'd been kidnapped and they took your phone away. Or maybe you'd been involved in an accident and your phone broke in the process. Every thought was making him out of his mind with worry. So he sat and waited. He waited for hours until the front door to your shared home opened and you walked inside followed by two of your best friends.

"Innie? I thought you were going out with the guys tonight?" It was your understanding that tonight was his party night, which was why you'd stayed out so late in the first place.

"I was...But I got worried, you weren't answering your phone." You frowned a little, digging through your bag to find your phone and when you did you felt a wave of guilt hit you.

"It must have died, baby, I'm so sorry." You whined holding onto his face as he held onto you, your friends making their way up to your room to give the two of you some needed privacy.

Tagline: @chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @hanasonmi @taestannie @acciocriativity @scarletemeterio @halesandy @aerastus @laylasbunbunny @critssq @lenfilms @btsiguess-kpop @meowmeowisdaname @imafivestarkpopstan @lost-leopard-beanie @djeniryuu @backintomykpopphaseagain @choisoorin

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latenightdaydreams · 4 months

Note

Please can you write about ex boyfriend Konig can't moved on from reader. He sneaked in her house and raped her. She resist him at first but then he just dicks her down.

You Can't Leave Me (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, rape, stalking, toxic ex, p in v, oral

1.8k word count

🚫

It’s now been eight months since you’ve broken up with König. When you found out about the trackers he put on your phone and car, it was just the straw that broke the camel's back. Since then, you’ve moved into your own apartment an hour away from König. Your phone number has been changed along with all social media deactivated.

The last several months have been hard, but you’ve been pushing through so well. Too well, actually. König never lost track of you. He knows your new address, phone number, job, and schedule. You changed your scenery, but not who you are. So, when you left one day, he knew where to look.

Of course, you move to your favorite city. You know König hates the city. He never wanted to move here. You move into the apartment that is only ten minutes from a bookstore, one that you become a frequent customer of quickly. König knows you like the back of his hand. There is no escaping him.

One thing he didn’t expect was you finding someone so quickly. It’s only been eight months. You were together for five years. It should take you longer to move on before realizing there is no one else for you. What the fuck is this?

König walks behind you at a distance as you walk to your date. Wearing a yellow summer dress compliments your body, paired with white sandals. Is that…make-up? That’s not right, you don’t wear make-up; you don’t need it. You’re so naturally beautiful.

He watches you walk into a café. A very handsome brunette man stands and hugs you. His hand resting above your ass, comfortable with your body as if he’s touched it already. When did he miss this? He glares at the two of you before walking away and going to your apartment.

While you’re out on your nice little date, König breaks into your apartment. Not really breaking in when he finds your spare and uses it, right? He enters your apartment for the first time, taking a deep breath. It smells just like you.

König walks throughout your home, looking at the new photos on the wall of your city friends. One of you with this new guy. He knocks it over. He continues on to your bedroom, seeing your bed is messy; you never make it. His eyes drift to the floor where he sees a pair of black underwear. With little thought, he stands and walks to them. A little white stain, you were aroused? By what? Who?

König lifts the underwear under his mask and to his nose, taking in a deep breath. Exquisite. He shoves the underwear into his pocket and keeps looking. Stepping into your bathroom, he turns the light on. His eyes fall to a little purple case near the sink. It can’t be. Is his little Schatz on birth control?

A sharp stinging feeling deep in his gut travels up to his heart. The mental image of that pathetic worthless man going raw into his Kleine Perle disgust him. You’re whoring yourself out, he knew you’d be lost without him.

He turns the light off and sits on the toilet, pulling out your panties to sniff while he waits for you. An hour passes and he began to grow worried that maybe you went back home with that loser. Right as he was going to check his phone, he hears your keys in the door.

You enter your apartment while on the phone. For safety, you always call a friend while walking.

“Yeah, I’m home now though. I love you, Ann. I’ll see you Tuesday.” Once you hang up, you kick your shoes off and place your purse on the hook.

As you pass your photos in the living room, you notice the photo of you and Finn has been knocked over. A wave of anxiety rushes over you. You try to reason with yourself. It’s almost been a year and you’ve never seen König. He’s probably moved on the same way you have.

You enter your bedroom and turn the lights on. The door closes behind you as you take off your dress, tossing it into the hamper. You grab out a pair of pajamas, placing them on your bed. Reaching behind your back, you unhook your bra, tossing it aside. When you do, you look down at the floor and notice your black pair of underwear is missing.

Maybe you put it in the hamper? Slowly, you walk to the hamper and look inside. At that moment, your bathroom door opens. Your eyes go up and meet the dreadful pale blue eyes. Your heart beat sky rockets, your feet moving ahead of your brain as you turn to run.

König is fast. He reaches out and wraps his arms tightly around your stomach. Lifting you in the air as you kick and scream, slamming you down hard on the bed. The air leaves your lungs and your screaming stops. König pulls out your underwear from his pocket and shoves it into your mouth. He grabs your arms and pulls them behind your back, pulling off his belt with one hand and tying your hands together.

When you try to kick him to get away, but he just climbs on you, resting his weight on you. “Where are you trying to go, Hase?” He growls.

Your screams are muffles as you try to squirm away from König.

“I saw your birth control pills.” He grabs a fist full of your hair and pulls your head back. “That is still my pussy. You are still mine.”

You shake your head no and try to break free from his grasp. His 6 ’10 280 lb body is just too big to fight back against.

König’s hands begin to travel along your mostly naked body. Your skin is just as soft as he remembers. His finger hooks your panties and moves it down. You buck backwards like a horse and try to kick him. A heavy hand comes down and spanks your ass cheek, you whimper.

“Stay still. I don’t want to have to hurt you.” König finishes pulling your underwear off completely before standing off of your body and getting undressed.

“It’s a shame you thought that you could get away from me. Bigger shame you decided to give away my body to another man. You know I don’t like that.” You can hear his pants drop to the floor finally.

König walks to your body and drags you to the center of the bed. He joins you on the bed, spreading your ass cheeks and pushing his face between them, taking a deep breath.

“That’s still my fucking pussy.” He grabs your ass and jiggles them before climbing over you, one leg on either side of your thighs.

His heavy cock slaps against your cheeks. He spits in his hand and rubs it around the tip of his cock, rubbing the tip along your folds. The feeling of his cock being pressed up against your entrance makes you squirm your hips, but that doesn’t stop König.

König spreads your ass cheeks with his hands so he can have a clear view of your pussy. He looks down at you and pushes himself into you. You tense up, only making yourself tighter for him. A loud moan leaves his lips as he buries his cock deep inside of your pussy.

He doesn’t allow you any time to adjust to his enormous dick as he slams his hips into you. You shake your body, trying your best to break free of his belt around your hands. Eventually you manage to spit your underwear out.

“Stop!” You cry out as you kick your legs as you writhe under him.

“Just take my cock.” He groans.

One of his hands comes down on your head and pushes your face into the pillow, holding you there as he picks up his pace. He rams his cock hard enough to cause pain, forcing the full length of his cock into your tight cunt. Your cries are muffled.

König yanks his head back and forces your head up. “What? You can’t handle my cock anymore?”

“Fuck you! Get off of me!”

“What? You don’t like my cock anymore?” He asks in a condescending tone.

“No!”

“Shut up.” He pulls his cock out of your pussy, grabbing you by your hair and dragging you to the edge of the bed.

König puts you on your back and slaps his cock on your lips, rubbing it back and forth. You try to turn your head but he grabs your jaw and forces you to stay still. The tip of his cock presses against your lips pressed tightly together.

“Open.” He lightly taps the side of your face.

Your mouth opens and König shoves himself inside. He forces his way into your throat, finger tracing the outline of his cock appearing. You gag, causing spit to come out of your mouth and on to your face. König keeps pressing in until his balls are resting on your face. Not being about to breathe, you kick and arch your body.

“Shhhh, calm down. You can take it.” He pushes even further.

König begins to rock his hips, fucking your throat. His heavy balls hitting your face over and over. This causes you to gag again and you throw up, turning your head to the side and vomiting on the floor. He laughs, “Are you going to be a good girl or should I keep going?”

“I’ll be good.” You pant with tears in your eyes.

“Gut.” König growls as he walks to the other side of the bed, joining you.

He lays behind you, lifting one of your legs and tells you to hold it. His hand covered in your spit handles his cock as he slips it into your pussy. Your gummy cunt welcomes him back. König grabs your face and turns your face to his.

“Whose pussy is this?”

“Mine.”

“Say it, Schatz.” His voice trembling as he bullies his cock deep inside of you.

You try to suppress the orgasmic feeling his cock gives you. As much as you like Finn, his cock is nothing compared to König’s. No matter how toxic König is, you can’t help but to miss him.

“Yours.” You moan out bashfully, hating yourself.

“What was that?” A grin crosses König’s lips.

“It’s yours!” You angrily moan.

“Fuck yes!” König rolls his body on top of yours, your leg pushed over as he grasps your hip and thigh. As he thrust into you, he pulls your back to meet his thrust.

Pitiful mewls freely leave your lips; a mixture of shame and euphoria consumes your whole body. You look back at him, your eyes meeting, as you see the same possessive glare in his eyes as he always has. Will you ever escape this man?

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cookie-crumblr · 4 months

Text

Chubby F! Housewife Reader X M!Yandere Streamer OC Jasper

Part 3!

Part 1 Here!

MINORS DNI

CW: fem! reader, reader referred to as she/her, ML! Masturbation, HJ, pet names for reader(pretty, gorgeous, talks of creampies, live streamed torture, blood, gore, murder,

He sat and watched you at first, just watched.

Just like he promised himself.

That thought was thrown out the window the moment you laid over that chaise lounge, what a gorgeous sight you were. Your perfectly voluptuous body wrapped in a silken night robe, why wasn’t this a painting in his bedroom— Hell why not a mural on his ceiling that he could see every single night.

His hand is already in his pants, pulling out his long, pierced cock. He’s teasing the tip and playing with his metal ring. He can’t help but wonder if you’ve ever been with a guy that has their dick pierced… If you’ll be shocked.

Oh just imagining your little innocent housewife reactions to things like that has heat racing in the jet stream of blood that’s rushing to his dick.

“Fuck, gorgeous,” He wishes so badly you were with him.

How he’d fuck you up against this window so hard, your bare tits pressed up against the glass. Instead of staring at you down there, he’d be seeing your husband; shocked at his chubby little wife with her pussy spread wide, sheathing a man that can take better care of her. Best of all her elated expression at everything about it.

That’s the part that has pre mixing in with the lubricant, your expression. He wonders what you’d look like, brows hiked up, biting your lip.

“Oh f-fuck pretty, you’re so gorgeous” He wants you underneath him. Looking up at him with your pretty eyes, your arms hooked around his neck, legs locked around his mid section. He’s gonna fill you up so good. All the way to the brim and over.

He has at least some restraint… Oh~ the second he does fuck you, he’s going to be so pent up, he almost laughs maniacally at what he’s doing; edging himself to a pretty thing he “can’t” have.

You’ve been there for a while, and he’s been there watching you. He’s starting to really notice that something is wrong, even without knowing you for very long, he can tell you aren’t just napping anymore.

Jasper leaves for just a minute to collect a camera and cables from another section of the home before returning and setting it up facing you. He labels that one ‘sun room’ in his phone, and then heads out to his very conspicuously inconspicuous white van.

He’s gonna check up on someone real quick…

The tracker he put in your husband’s car pings him at an office building, but when Jasper hacks the security system his office is empty up there… Hmm, how curious indeed.

He calls your husband’s receptionist, and he tells Jasper that he’s in a meeting at the moment.

When he looks at the cameras to confirm it’s funny that he’s just not in the building anywhere visible at least.

He’ll just make a copy of your husband’s phone later. He’s got a feeling… Not all bad. He’s in a state of slight turmoil, on one hand he’d be ecstatic to find out your husband’s cheating or something else terrible so that he could swoop in, but at the same time, he’d rather you not get hurt.

He muses his hair frustrated as he contemplates problems and how to solve them.

For right now, he’s late for a livestream.

The clone he made of your phone lights up next to him, and he sees you typing a message. Before he can read it, he watches you erase it, and then it dims once more.

“Hey Y/N! hope you’re alright, what’s been up?” He texts you… Gods, he really shouldn’t have right after… That’s so suspicious! But, he’s so deathly curious! He wants so badly to know what was on your mind, and what you almost shared with him.

His heart thumps, and his face reddens. He puts his hand onto his fist as he waits for a response, watching both phones…

Nothing.

It’s been days.

The gnawing boredom has almost fully made its comeback, when your phone clone lights up on a table behind him, he isn’t looking.

“Count backwards from one hundred, everyone~”

“100”

“Fuck him up!!!”

“Can i have his underwear?”

“99”

“98”

“Oh shit! First time here! i cant wait!”

“Welcome! i hope you enjoy your stay!” his chat is zooming by in front of him, but Jasper is still able to pick messages out and reply to them individually.

“Mmmf! mmmmmmf!!!!” A man with some socks stuffed in his mouth screams and writhes against barbed and razor wire restraints.

Jasper removes the leather strap that was wrapped and tied around the man’s mouth and hits the back of his head to get him to spit the socks out.

Guttural screams fill the van, and the docks they’re parked at. Birds in flocks fly off at the sound.

“Hey Jasper, you got a text from your other phone,” Issac bounds over, dropping them both into his (kind of full) hands.

“Howdy Jasper! sorry i went on a mini vacation! what have you been up to?”

He stares for a second thinking about how he’s been watching you through your windows for the past, oh, little over a week. You definitely did not go on a vacation. But he won’t ask, he doesn’t want to make you think about excuses.

Dev.In clears their throat, knowingly.

“I have to go.” is his answer as he slits the man’s throat and stops the livestream.

Jasper jumps into the driver seat and steps on the pedal.

In his van he’s going so fast the metal is rattling as he practically rolls over on every turn through suburb. Issac constantly “weeee!’s” in the back. In mere minutes he makes it home, and into the house before you can see him.

You arrive as he’s leaned up against the door, heart pounding in excitement making him almost dizzy! It’s exhilarating, he might have to have more torture streams just to give him that added bit of fun to his evenings when he has to feign innocence for you.

You knock on the door, and he answers it instantly. Shit. He’s so stupid, he thinks to himself, hopfully you don’t suspect anything.

Right away he notices that your eyelid is slightly more closed than usual and that you’re wearing a touch more makeup than usual in that spot making it more suspicious.

His mind instantly goes to your husband.

That might just be him pushing his own agenda onto you, but he has to ask, “What happened? are you alright?”

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