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rafelandia · 7 months ago

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In the Middle of the Night (Rafe Cameron x fem!reader)

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: smut, little bit of cum play, unprotected sex

Summary: Rafe can't sleep. Luckily, the antidote to his ailment is laying in bed right next to him.

Author's Note: I can't stop thinking about Rafe waking Y/N up in the middle of the night for sex. I am addicted to the trope of Rafe being an asshole to everyone except his girl, but this is more of a soft!Rafe moment than anything. If you enjoy, please give a like or reblog. And any requests for blurbs/one shots/etc. are always welcome in my inbox!

Before Y/N came along, there were many ways in which Rafe would conquer the restlessness that crept up on him in the middle of the night. He would go for a run on the beach with nothing but the moonlight to guide him, hunker down in his home office and crunch numbers, read a few chapters in his current favorite non-fiction. There were dozens of outlets Rafe had conditioned himself to do when he just couldn’t fall asleep despite knowing that he should. He was older now and staying up all night like he would as a teenager just wasn’t good for him in any capacity anymore.

All of these outlets, but they suddenly went out of the window when he met Y/N. She was unlike any other woman he had ever been with or even met before, but he supposed that’s how it always was when you were in love with someone. He swore he could stare at her features for forever, that she was more intoxicating than any substance or drink. But looking at her in the glimmering moonlight that shone through the cracked shades was not what put him to bed whenever that frustrating feeling of not being able to close his eyes came insidiously creeping into his head.

There was something about the way her hair was mussed about her head like a halo around her pillow, or maybe it was the way that she was sleeping on her stomach so that the swell of her breast peaked through the comforter. Either way, Rafe couldn’t help but feel his boxers growing tighter the longer he traced his eyes over the shape of her sleeping body next to his.

He slid his body over towards her, turning her and wrapping his arms around her body so that his front was flush with her backside. Warmth radiated from her sleeping form and his hands found their way to her breasts. Rafe began gently kneading them in aim to draw her from her slumber, but the most he got out of her was a shift in her bum on the mattress. A low rumble escaped from his chest at the way she unknowingly ground herself against his cock.

His next attempt was to go for her neck. Rafe always teased her for being so sensitive there but at the same time, there was nothing more that he loved than feeling her turn to putty in his hands when his lips roamed about the column of her throat. He started nipping at her skin with his plush, pink lips, just barely meeting his skin with hers. Goosebumps raised in response to his touch as his kisses grew sloppier. It was when he’d hit her sweet spot with his tongue that he heard the sound he’d been searching for. Rafe swears he’s never heard anything more heavenly in his entire life, that soft, half-moan half-groan that fell from her parted lips. It brought his neediness to the forefront.

“Baby,” Rafe grumbled against the crook of her neck, tickling her with his outgrown stubble.

Amidst her hazy state she was able to hum back at him, though it sounded once more like a broken moan.

“Need you to wake up,” he hoarsely whispered as he began working himself against her backside, slowly but surely rutting his hips into the skin of her bum to ease some of the tension that had built up in his cock.

He couldn’t see the way the corners of her lips turned up knowingly. She was no stranger to this Rafe, the Rafe that woke her in the middle of the night with an itch that he just couldn’t seem to scratch. It was almost comical to her, the way that he’d do just about everything in the book besides coming right out and telling her that he was in the mood. Sometimes, she’d tease him and pretend to be asleep longer than she actually was before turning over and giving him what he wanted, but not tonight. Unbeknownst to Rafe, he had stirred her from quite the dream, so there was no need to dance around the ledge this time.

With a sigh, she resituated herself in the bed, turning in Rafe's arms so that their faces sat mere inches from each other.

“Hi,” she sang through her sleep-ridden voice.

“Hi,” Rafe repeated back to her in the same groggy tone. "Can't sleep?" she asked, a tinge of playfulness in her voice.

He gave no response - just a lazy smirk in return. Even in the darkness, Y/N noticed a flush rising up his neck and cheeks. He'd been caught.

“Need some help?” she quirked her brow and gestured downwards to the tent in his boxers.

“Maybe,” he answered with a sleepy chuckle.

She knocked him on his back so that she was straddling his waist and sitting on his now painfully hard cock; the feathered duvet now pooled at their knees. Rafe hissed at the commotion, but the feeling soon turned to bliss when her hands snuck into the waistband of his boxers and she took his length in her fingers. It felt heavy in her grip as she smeared the silky beads of precum along his tip, coating him in preparation to make home within her tight, warm walls.

“I was dreamin’ about you,” she spoke lowly as she gently twisted her wrist around his cock, reveling in the way Rafe's brows were furrowing together in response to her touch.

“Yeah?” he jested.

“Mhmm,” she hummed, “We were kinda like how we are now. But this is much better,” she finished with a tantilizing pump of her hand.

Rafe's hips jutted into her fist, wanting more than just her teasing touches. It almost made her laugh aloud, how needy he could be in the middle of the night like this. She wanted him just as much, only due to her still-drowsy state, she was able to control it.

She leaned down and laid her body flush with Rafe's as she kissed him for the first time since he’d woke her. They tasted of the remnants of their minty toothpaste and mostly of morning breath, but that was the furthest thing from their minds. Rafe held her close to him as his tongue slipped between her lips, aching to get her going as quickly as he could. His arms slid under the ratty Kildare High School t-shirt of his that she slept in so he could lift it off of her frame, breaking the kiss for only a fraction of a second before they were intertwined again.

Once her chest was free of clothing, Rafe ran his hands along the sides of her breasts and spine, chilling her skin with his cold hands. He ducked his head down to kiss the center of her chest and then outwards to her wrap his plump lips around her erect nipples. Those velvety, smooth sighs of hers turned into the moans that Rafe adored oh-so dearly. Y/N began to feel the wetness from her core pool at the front of her panties. One of her hands cradled his neck, snugly but not tightly as she kissed him, but she was able to move the other down to grip his cock in her digits once more.

“Y/N," Rafe pleaded, his hazy, hungry eyes peering up at her. He needed her to do something, anything before he lost his whits.

She locked eyes with Rafe as she sank down slowly, splitting herself on top of him. Rafe always swore that the way the wrinkle between her brows reared itself and her lips parted just slightly when she first felt his cock first enter her was by far his favorite face of hers. Well, his second favorite, apart from the face she made when she came, he supposed. He gripped onto her hips tightly as she lowered herself fully onto him, exhaling a sigh of relief when she made it all of the way down to the base of his cock.

They soon found their rhythm, Y/n bouncing and rolling her hips against his while they chased their highs. Her early morning sensitivity caused her to melt in Rafe's arms with the way his tip was able to brush against all of the sweetest spots that made her eyes roll back into her head and a shiver run down her spine.

All that was heard in the otherwise silent room were sounds of wet skin meeting harshly each time she pushed herself back onto Rafe. Their lips chased each other in between thrusts, eager to be as close to each other as they possibly could. Sweat pooled in the dip of her back and in the grooves of Rafe's toned stomach, the two of them yearning to reach their ends.

Y/n's bouncing soon turned to lazy, barely motivated rocking as she found herself almost physically unable to continue. The tendons in her thighs were screaming for relief and the heat that surrounded her made her feel like she was trapped in a sauna. She could feel herself right there, right on the brink of getting to where she needed to be, but she was growing frustrated that she wouldn't be able to get them both there on her own.

“Rafe,” Y/N whined as she gripped both of Rafe's shoulders tightly, knuckles growing white from the hold she had on them.

He sensed her weariness, but he was waiting to see how long it would take her to beg for him to take control of the two of them.

She raised her eyes from being buried in Rafe's neck to look at him.

“Please,” she moaned.

“I've got you, baby,” he huffed, barely able to spit the words out between each manual breath.

With one fluid motion, he had her flipped over onto her back and plunged back into her soaking cunt once more. Y/N cried out at the new angle of Rafe on top of her, watching his dainty, silver chain dangle inches away from her face.

“Gonna make me cum if you keep looking at me like that," Rafe muttered into her ear as he mouthed against her neck, “You gonna cum for me first though. Right angel?”

He continued to drill his cock into her heat, each time brushing against the spongey part of her walls that made her thighs shake and reflexively want to close. Rafe caught wind of her trembling and forced her legs open with one of his strong, veiny hands, pressing it even deeper into her chest with his other arm pressed deep into the mattress to balance his body on top of hers. Their stomachs brushed against each other with every thrust, only adding to the overwhelming sensations that they were both feeling.

“Your pussy's so perfect. Like it was made for me," Rafe moaned. "Gonna fuck you like this every night for the rest of my life."

His words of encouragement took her right back to where she was before, right at the brink of breaking. Her moans went up an octave and Rafe could tell by the way she had started to clench around him that she wasn’t going to last much longer. He knew for certain that with the way that her cunt was so expertly gripping his cock that he wasn’t that far behind her.

"Need you to cum, baby. Need to feel it," Rafe was nearing his breaking point, but knew he couldn't be satisfied without feeling her clench around him first.

Unable to speak due to the way he was pounding into her, Y/N gripped Rafe's shoulders even harder than he was fucking her in response. This made Rafe cockily smile and only pushed him to fuck her more fervently and deeper. His hips would certainly leave light purple bruises on hers come morning.

Her release sprung on her quickly, her walls spasming around Rafe's thick, pulsing cock. Y/N let out a sound akin to a high-pitched whine blended perfectly with a scream - it was so beautiful to him. Her orgasm came so suddenly that it caught Rafe off guard as well; he had but mere moments before he found himself filling her up with his warm, milky seed. It was so sudden and intense that it seeped out from around his cock and onto the plush, silky sheets.

They rode it out together, Rafe pumping into her slower and sloppier than just minutes before. Y/N was becoming overwhelmed with the sensation and he was quick to pick up on it. Rafe pulled out slowly, watching Y/N wince as her now-swollen heat contracted around nothing but emptiness. He ran his fingers along her pussy, collecting her wetness and his cum on his digits before gently pressing the mixture back into her core. She hissed at the feeling of him inside of her again and it made Rafe's dick twitch. He could easily go again, but he knew that she couldn't. It was intoxicating to watch her squirm. Next time he thought to himself. He loved to drive her crazy.

They both laid there, Rafe resting his full weight on top of her while they listened to the sound of each other’s heartbeats return back to their resting rate. She twiddled with the clasp of Rafe's chain while he pecked soft kisses on her sweat-slick breast with his lips.

"I love you," Y/N sighed, her eyes beginning to close as she teetered the line of consciousness.

"I love you, too," Rafe was just as exhausted as she was. Finally.

When they regained their bearings, Rafe reached across the bed for the shirt he’d pulled off of her body. With caring hands, he cleaned the two of them, tossing the soiled garment somewhere off into the floor to be dealt with in the morning.

“Thank you,” Rafe mumbled into her skin as he crawled back into the covers with her and pulled her into his arms once more.

“Anytime,” she laughed, still somewhat out of breath.

“But will you please go to sleep now? You have a presentation in the morning and you only wake me up to fuck when you can’t sleep so I’m assuming you’ve been awake this whole time,” she sounded like a parent talking to Rafe, which while he would never admit, he adored.

She felt Rafe's laugh reverberate off her chest and shake her body, to which he then promised her he’d be good and go to bed.

Rafe could go on midnight runs and read as much as he could, but nothing could put him to sleep as easily as this.

#rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #fafe smut #outer banks smut #outer banks fanfiction #rafe x reafer #rafe cameron x fem!reader #drew starkey smut #mine

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lust4nero · 6 days ago

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SWEAT FOR ME! ─ ✦.ᐟ

summary ✦ the piling and constant number of missions that come through his doors has left Dante unable to look after himself and neglect his needs, which eventually hits him especially hard one night. luckily, he has his fiancé to take care of it.

tags ✦ p in v, MDNI, not beta read, light cursing, riding, masturbation (m!), dante gets caught jerking off and is turned on by it

wordcount ✦ 1.9k

Mission after mission that came through the wooden doors of the Devil May Cry building left him little to no time to look after himself, hopping from one city to another to take care of some demons. Sure, they were nothing he couldn’t handle but too many all at once while barely having time to recuperate can take a toll on him despite being a seasoned demon hunter. Nero and Nico were running the remote Devil May Cry branch just fine, excellently in fact, so it’s not like Dante had to work thrice as hard in order to keep the lights on and the water going; in short, your fiancé is simply too hard-working for his own good.

Eventually, you hear the distant yet familiar thrum of Nico’s van followed by some conversing voices. Nero heads in first, a hand perched on Kyrie’s waist, followed by Vergil alongside his brother; unlike the others, Dante’s a lot less chatty, especially with the exhaustion evident in his eyes. In true younger sibling fashion, he’s still irritating Vergil but not exerting a hundred percent of his effort into effectively getting Vergil to fall to his ragebait. Whilst everyone makes a beeline for the peeling living room couch, the legendary devil hunter rushes to your arms.

“Hey baby.” His words come out the slightest bit muffled as his stubbly cheek is pressed against your shoulder.

“Hey,” you respond. “Long week, hasn’t it?”

He affirms with a lazy hum, not bothering to use his brain now that he’s home. A deep groan rumbles from the depths of his chest as you give him his favorite head scratches, most of his weight now pressing against.

“Feels nice?” You ask and he nods, eyes damn near closing as all the exhaustion from fighting and travel of the past weeks hits him like a ton of bricks.

“How about you freshen up and I’ll follow you later? I’ll just tell the others we’ll go to bed early.”

He mumbles something, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and hugging you like a stuffed animal. Eventually, he lets up and quietly makes his way to your en suite bathroom.

Kyrie breaks away from the group to fetch herself a glass of water from the kitchen and you take the chance to talk to her.

“In case the others are wondering, Dante and I are going to bed early. He can barely keep his eyes open.”

The girl nods, giving you an understanding smile. “Sure! I can tell he needs that rest, the poor man was out cold as soon as we got back in the van. I’m pretty sure Nico drove on the curb at one point and ran over a cone but he didn’t wake up from all the jostling.”

Your eyes widen; Dante was the type to wake up from something as faint as the sound of the window gently rattling because of wind. He was never able to sleep deeply, always kept up by the slightest of noises or the haunting flashbacks of his troubled childhood.

“That’s new, he’s never really the type to sleep through anything like that. Thanks for telling me, Kyrie, and have a good night.”

Right after she greets you ‘good night’ as well, you head up as a yawn escapes your lips with a soft groan.

By the time you’re upstairs, he’s all clean and fast asleep on his side of the bed. The silence of the room is occasionally interrupted by his snores, not too loud but not exactly muted either. The longer you look at his snoozing form, the more you feel slumber’s somnolent lullaby lull you to drowsiness. Tired yourself, you freshen up right before joining him in bed.

One thing about summers that Dante hates is the irritating humidity and heat that drags on until nightfall; he already runs warm like a half-demon heater and the summer intensity just makes it unbearable for him. Unfortunately for him, his deep sleep is interrupted by the uncomfortable feeling of blankets sticking to his sweat-dampened skin. He switches positions, trying to get comfortable, but the chafe of his boxers jolts his body in sensitivity and wrings a whimper out of him. Peeling the too-warm blanket from his lower half, Dante looks down and sees the groin of his garment tented by a raging hard-on.

“Fuck,” he hisses. He’s too tired but a growing need for relief wrestles against his desire to fall back asleep. You’re fast asleep and facing away from him, he can’t possibly wake you up just to fuck and especially when you look so peaceful.

Electing to ignore his problem, he inches closer to you and snuggles up to hold you while he attempts to find sleep once more. How can he drift back asleep and will for the flames of desire to extinguish when your ass looks so delectable in those flimsy sleep shorts?

Oblivious to his problem, you move ever so slightly in your sleep and brush up against his straining boner.

“S-Shit,” he shakily breathes as he shuts his eyes. “Not the time, bud.”

This won’t do, he thinks to himself. Pulling away from you, his hands travel to his waistband and tug it down just below his ass. Carefully, calloused palms rub the insides of his thighs before coming to squeeze around his needy length.

“A-Ah– shit…–”

Once he has his breathing controlled, he thumbs over his drooling slit before gliding his tunneled hands down to the base. He temporarily stops when he knows he’s about to get noisy, unwilling to disrupt your beauty rest; such a gentleman.

Eventually, he picks up the pace and thrusts up into his hands; it feels so good and he’s right at the edge but it would’ve been better if he was thrusting in and out of your wet heat.

“T-This would’ve been– mmh– better if we had sex– hah–”

He’s right there, but you wake up from all the commotion at your right side.

“Dante? Is that you?”

He freezes, though his grip never loosens around his cock; in fact, getting caught just escalated the intensity of arousal that rushed through his veins.

“Yeah baby, it’s just me.” His voice is strained and ever so slightly out of breath. “Don’t worry, get back to sleep.”

You don’t quite like the breathiness and urgency in his voice, lacking it’s usual cockiness that usually still shines through even when he’s halfway through sleep and consciousness. In a swift movement, you sit up and peel the blankets.

The move startles Dante, who wasn’t fast enough to withdraw his hand from his dick and is now caught in such a promiscuous act. An embarrassed, yet oh-so turned on, flash of warmth surges over his body and manifests on his cheek as a reddened flush. His desire, the overwhelming need to fuck, is evident in his lidded eyes and frankly, the passion spreads like wildfire and sets you ablaze. Suddenly the evening heat is too unbearable for clothes, ridding your lower half of your sleep shorts before sitting on top of his hard-on in just your panties.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” You whisper as you start to grind against him. He groans, large hands settling on your waist.

“Didn’t wanna disturb you,” Dante mumbles. “You looked too peaceful.”

You take his face into your hands, feeling the tickly prickle of his white stubble on your palms, before locking lips in a manner far from composed; the liplock is all spit, whines, and tongue, something reminiscent of a passionate porn flick.

“Grind on me harder,” the white-haired half-demon hissed as he temporarily breaks away from the fiery kiss.

Guiding you along, you grind and bounce strong enough to start making the bed squeak. Dante’s getting more vocal beneath you, silencing himself by pressing wet kisses or hickeys into your skin. The sensitivity is high for you as well, the drenched gusset of your panties allowing for an easier glide along his exposed length. Unlike you, who’s still chasing your high, your fiance is even more sensitive now that you’ve unintentionally edged him moments ago.

“S-Stop,” Dante huffs. You look at him curiously but he doesn’t notice, focused on sliding your panties down before throwing it off to the corner of the room.

“At least you learned not to tear it off now,” you joke. Dante, when crazed and impatient for your tight pussy, has a tendency to rip your panties instead of sliding it off. Not that it overly bothers you, you just can’t keep going back to the lingerie shop and buying new ones; they aren’t exactly cheap.

Now that you’re naked from the waist down, you line him up with yourself and start to sink down.

“I’d love to eat that pussy and feel you gush on my face but I need you on me more,” he pants.

You whined as the head filled you up first, joining his growls in filling the silence.

“F-Fuck, can never get used to how big you are Dante,” you whimper. His stubble tickles against your cheek, followed by a gentle nip to your jaw followed by light kisses.

“Yet you always do so good f’me, sugar. C’mon, just a little more.”

You finally sit on him, cock all the way in. After taking a moment to properly adjust, you begin rolling your hips as your mouth at his earlobe.

“So good,” he praises as he meets your ass, pelvis thrusting up in search of your heat with each bounce. “Sooo fucking good, baby– oh shit–!”

He coos, dragging you down harsher to stuff you completely full. Eventually, your thighs start to give out but you still want to reach that high. Noticing you slow down, Dante halts his ramming for a moment to check on you.

“You gettin’ tired, baby?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Still wanna ride though.”

He smiles, pressing a sloppy kiss to the corner of your lip.

“Let me take over, hm?”

He plunges the rest of his cock back in at full speed, not bothering to increase the speed gradually with each powerful thrust. Dante rabbits and rams hard, wringing squeaks and sexed up squeals from you.

“C-Coming–!” you repeatedly murmur in his ear, nails digging into the muscles of his pale back.

“Me too baby, me too. C’mon, you can do it– gush around my cock baby,” he coos.

He plants his feet into the mattress for the last of his thrusts, keeping you pressed tight against his pelvis. You cry out, walls pulsating erratically around his sensitive cock as you lurch forward and tightly enclose your arms around his neck.

He leans back into the headboard, the cool metal a relief that contrasts his warm and sweat-dampened skin.

“Fuck,” you groan. “Missed this.”

He laughs, a hand coming up to stroke your hair. “Yeah, I did too.”

“This is why you have to trust Devil May Cry to your brother and Nero sometimes,” you point out. To further prove your point, you pull away from hugging him and look at him directly into his icicle-colored pupils.

“I’m not saying you should quit by the way, I just want you to take a breather and stop overworking yourself. You’re not alone anymore, Dante, we got you. Let yourself rest sometimes.”

Dante hates that he worries you with how frequent he’s gone, leaving you alone and lacking any attention from him. With a soft smile, he tucks your hair behind your ear and swears that he’ll do better as a fiance.

“Okay, I promise, honey. Now, how does sleep sound? I’m pretty tired now, not gonna lie.”

[ many thanks to the anon who sent a request, hopefully it lived up to your expectations! ]

#omi.resources #devil may cry #dante sparda #dante devil may cry #dmc dante #dante dmc #dante sparda smut #dmc #dante x reader #dante x reader smut #dmc x reader #dante x you #dante sparda x reader #devil may cry x reader

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chaoticwriting · 5 months ago

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YOU ARE MARRIED!!??3

Part 2

It's been a week since Ellie arrived at the manor. All the guests from the night of Ellie's arrival had already returned by that night. And so far, they haven't managed to pry open any more information about their brother-in-law from Ellie that they already didn't know of.

Currently, Ellie is sitting in the living room drawing on her green notebook while eating fruit snacks that Alfred prepares. Cass is watching over her, occasionally asking her what she is drawing.

Except for Cass and Alfred, everyone else is either at work or at school. Suddenly, a portal opens and comes out Cujo with a bag that has Ellie's name on it. So far, Cujo has been delivering Ellie's essential almost everyday for the past week. Whenever Ellie or Cass ask him about Danny, Cujo just shakes his head meaning either he doesn't know or he can't tell them.

Cujo also never stays for long and just jumps away whenever his delivery is done. But to their surprise, Cujo is not alone today. A woman in punk clothing and blue flaming hair follows after Cujo holding a guitar in her hand. Ellie perks up when she sees Ember coming out of the portal.

Ellie: Aunt Ember!

Ember: Hey Ellie. How are you doing? I assume you have been eating well.

Ellie: Yes! Everyone is so nice. Alfred always brings me snacks if I want to and grandpa Bruce buys me a lot of things.

Ember: Good good. I'm just here to say hi and check up on you. Your papa has been worrying a lot since he sent you here.

Ellie: Aunt Ember, when will papa finish his job? I miss him.

Ember: I don't know but for now you stay with your mama, okay? I will tell your papa to deal with his job quicker.

Ellie: Okay. :(

Ember then turns towards Cass and smiles at her.

Ember: Hey Cass. I'm Ember. Danny's friend. Sorry about the late greetings.

Cass: It's fine. About Danny, can I know what his job actually is?

Ember: Errmm, it's not that I don't want to tell. It's just I feel like you should ask him directly since even I don't know what his actual job is. Usually, Clockwork just calls him and off him go to wherever or whenever he sends him.

Cass: I see. But can I know if he is okay?

Ember: As far as I can tell, he is fine. Clockwork hasn't asked any of us for back up yet, so his mission is probably going well.

Suddenly, Bruce enters the living room seeing Ember and Cass talking.

Bruce: Why hello there miss. How can I help you?

Ember: *Stares*

Bruce: Errmm, miss?

Ember: You are that guy that got sent back and forth in time wasn't it? I remember your face from one of Danny's missions.

Bruce: What?

Ember: Yeah. You are Bruce Wayne, right? The Batman.

Bruce: How do you know about me?

Ember: It's not hard when your bestfriend is the one that helps one of his favorite heroes to escape forced time travel.

Bruce: Danny helps me back then?

Ember: Yeah. But at that time, he was mostly chasing after Plasmius. It is a coincidence he met you so he sent you back home first before he continued chasing Plasmius.

Cass: This Plasmius guy, how dangerous is he?

Ember: Ehh, depends on his sanity to be honest. One day, he might come to just fight you, another day he might try to release an interdimensional tyrant from his long slumber. So it's really random.

Cass: And this time?

Ember: Oh did Ellie tell you they are chasing Plasmius? I don't actually know what he is planning this time. Clockwork is being his cryptid ass again and not telling the whole story.

Bruce: Is this Clockwork safe?

Ember: Well, he is okay. I think he adopted Danny at one point so you could call him his adopted parents. But Danny also has real parents so there is that. Overall, he wouldn't allow any significant harm to fall onto Danny or anyone close to him unless he knows that is the best solution possible.

Ember: Oh well, I need to go now. Have a concert to attend to. Bye Ellie.

Ellie: Bye Aunt Ember! Bye Cujo!

Cujo gives out a bark and opens a portal. Both of them enter the portal and disappear from the living room. Bruce has that serious calculating look on his face while Cass just takes everything and processes them. She trusts his husband's judgement. And since she is with Cujo and Danny trusts Cujo, that means whoever Ember is, she is probably a friend.

Bruce goes to his study to enter the Batcave, while Cass and Ellie continue playing in the living room.

-Somewhere else-

A young man with white hair and black and white hazmat suit is flying across an urban city as he chases after a vampire-like older man that is holding a bracelet giving off a green light.

Danny: Give me the bracelet, Plasmius!

Plasmius: You gotta take it from my own hand, little badger!

Danny shoots an ecto beam towards Plasmius as he dodges the attack coming from Danny. Danny being agitated, tries to fly faster but he is already going as fast as he can.

'I wish I could just appear in front of him.'

Suddenly, Danny's vision goes black and when his vision comes again, he sees Plasmius rushing to him. Plasmius is shocked to see Danny suddenly in front of him and tries to maneuver away from him, but at such close distance, there is no way for him to outrun Danny.

Catching his wrist, Danny puts a collar that Clockwork specifically made for Plasmius. Plasmius turns back into a human and if not for Danny holding his wrist, would have fallen down from the sky.

Danny, seeing Plasmius unconscious, processes what just happened. Did he just teleport? How? He doesn't even know how to open a portal. He kind of just wishes it and it happened.

A green portal appears in front of him, cutting off his thoughts. Danny sighs as he doesn't even know what is going on. He should probably return first and ask Clockwork what is happening.

Part 4

#danny phantom #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #batfam #danny x cass #dc x dp #dead silent #cassandra cain #cass x danny #is this too short?#I feel like I write a lot already but I still feels like this is short.#I will probably write the next one longer

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inloveinsickness · 10 months ago

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❝ HUSH ❞ — sakusa kiyoomi

cw. f!reader, fluff, olympics au, athletic trainer!reader, timeskip characters, established relationship, secret marriage, language (omi swears like once), not beta read (sorry!) word count. ~ 1.6k

“japan’s outside hitter sakusa kiyoomi and newly revealed wife, athletic trainer y/n l/n, steals the spotlight in the city of love!”

@tetzoro's summer olympics collab

your eyes glance in his direction, letting it linger on his figure as the team settles down into their corner. he’s a little tense, understandably so– it’s his first time at the olympics, and with the pressure of the finals sitting on his shoulders, the nerves are showing, though carefully hidden behind his standard resting face that you can see through so well. the lights hanging along the ceilings of the south paris arena cast a tasteful warm glow along the contours of his face. despite the subconscious clenched jaw and slightly downturned lips that make you want to kiss the frown off so badly, there’s a shine in his eyes like no other.

the last few days have been pretty rough, of stiff beds, subpar food and sleeping without kiyoomi. you know he feels the same if the progressively increasing frequency of late night calls and texts are any indication. with the boys sharing rooms in twos amongst themselves and the rest of the team’s staff being housed in a separate wing of the building, falling asleep in his arms was a faraway thought since you arrived at the olympic village.

loml ♡ : miya snores so fuckin’ loudly i can’t handle this me : well it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve dealt with it baby loml ♡ : i still think we should’ve fought harder for us sharing a room

he drifts off into slumber easily after washing up and getting his fill of talking to you (never enough), the mental and physical fatigue of matches and practices in between taking a toll on his body, but for you, being wrapped in his warm embrace was the perfect recipe and vital to a good night's sleep. it’s safe to say that you haven’t been sleeping well for the past week.

it didn’t help that being sworn to secrecy about your relationship also meant that any interactions you had with him outside being the team’s athletic trainer was like treading on eggshells. it feels like you’re in high school again, sitting next to him in the dining hall during meal times with your clasped hands hidden under the table from watchful eyes, his thumb rubbing soft circles against the back of your hand or squeezing ever so often, as if to affirm his presence and silently reassure that i’m here.

it seems to be a trend lately for athletes to be active on their social media platforms, be it their team’s or just a personal account, recounting stories or even taking avid viewers through “a day in the life of an olympic athlete” — without looking too far, even miya jumped on the bandwagon, often seeing suna running around filming short clips of their shenanigans in free pockets of time during the day. you and kiyoomi talked about it before the season began, keeping any non-professional interactions to a minimum. there’s eyes everywhere and it’s better to be safe than sorry.

both of you are very private people, it was only natural that you preferred to keep your personal life and matters to yourselves behind closed doors. this ended up being a double-edged sword, because everyone wants to be all up in your business, especially kiyoomi who finds himself in the spotlight more often, being apart of the “young handsome eligible bachelors” of the MSBY 4 and now one of the most sought-after new additions to japan’s national team.

you on the other hand, were better known by twitter as “the pretty trainer” from the shweiden adlers and now the national team, standing next to another fan-favourite, iwaizumi hajime. thankfully your role is kept more so behind the scenes, checking on the players during games and making sure they remain in tip-top shape on and off the court.

being the quiet and brooding one amongst outgoing chatterboxes meant that the media would try to dig any information out of kiyoomi, but prying interviewers and prodding questions towards him and his love life were smoothly deflected and brushed aside, the boys even coming to his defense if anyone got too pushy with it, which you were beyond thankful for. not that they needed to most of the time, he’s known to be curt with his responses and quick to bring the topic back to the game, and no one likes a snappy sakusa anyway, many have learned this the hard way.

just months prior to the both of you getting called in to begin training for the olympics and before schedules start to pick up, you had a small private wedding in your hometown with just close friends and family, the ceremony kept under lock and key and tucked away from the public eye. it made it all the more intimate, more like a quiet gathering to celebrate your union than a grand spectacle, which suited you perfectly. the honeymoon hasn’t happened yet with the timing of everything, you’re saving it for post-season when you both can finally take a break and relax for a little while.

you won’t deny that there are some days where you wished that things were different, and that you could openly express your love for each other without scrutiny and attention being on you, but alas, that is to be expected as someone exposed to the public eye.

the olympics is your first public appearance as married individuals, not that anyone particularly cares about your status, their eyes instead zeroing in on kiyoomi and the chain around his neck carrying a shiny new silver band. it's safe to say that judging by the scowl on his face and the chatter buzzing around the front rows of stands as the team settles into their side of the court, his “mystery wife" is the new talk of the town.

when he comes over to you during timeout, his eyes meet yours bashfully as you hand him a bottle, fingers brushing against yours in an unspoken apology. you just smile and lightly pat his back as he turns to join the team huddle. there’s nothing to be sorry for, silly.

these little moments mean everything to you, even though it looks like nothing in the grand scheme of things. just being there with him and coming together with a shared passion even if it's in different fields of the broader spectrum of sport, fills you with a sense of happiness and content. watching him in his element and being able to support him on the sidelines through it all, you'd never trade that for the world.

and as you’re sitting at the edge of your seat with your bum hanging on for dear life, you lean forward with your hands pressed together, the top of your index fingers resting against the tip of your nose like a pseudo prayer. match point.

it feels like you’re watching the longest rally of your life and like a bad habit, your knee begins bouncing up and down in your nervousness and anticipation. iwaizumi too, is so engrossed in the play at hand that he doesn’t notice, or maybe he just doesn’t care enough in this moment to stop you with his usual slap to your thigh and a chiding comment, “stop it, even my grandma back in sendai can feel the tremours from your goddamn knees.”

with bated breath, you watch kageyama tosses one beautiful arc of a set to kiyoomi as he leaps into the air and makes contact with the ball.

with a powerful spike, he is a force to be reckoned with, sending the ball home as the opponents dive to save it, their arms hands and fingers stretching out in a last ditch attempt to connect and rescue the point, but to no avail. the ball lands with a harsh thud and as he stands tall above their groveling, the whistle blows and the crowds roar.

your arms instinctively raise in a cheer, and in the next moment they’re closed over your mouth, tears pricking your eyes as you stumble over your feet and scramble to get up. as the team rushes towards him with shouts of celebration, his eyes immediately dart in your direction, softening as he sees you dashing over. with knowing smirks and crescent moons for eyes, the boys follow his line of sight and give him firm slaps on the back, parting the hoard for you and giving just enough room for him to uncharacteristically swoop you up in his arms and crash his lips into yours, all caution thrown to the wind.

all the noise halts and time stands still, everything fades away and nothing else in the world matters in the moment, not the people, not the cameras, just the overwhelming rush of joy and pride, and love, oh love, swelling from the depths of your chest and your heart bursting at its seams.

your senses flood with everything kiyoomi, from the way the sweaty strands of his hair at the back of his neck feel on your fingertips, his cheeks dampening from your tears, the nudge of his nose against yours, and the press of his smile on your locked lips. he breathes out and you breathe him in, letting all of his being rest in the room in your heart saved specially for him, seeping into every corner of your soul.

when you inevitably pull apart for air, the current predicament doesn't exactly click in your mind just yet until he grabs your hand and pulls you into his side, shielding you from the onslaught of reporters and press looking to get a fresh scoop on the hottest piece of news. with blown out eyes, you look at him in a daze and disbelief, did that really just happen?

the smug smirk on his face says it all.

the matching silver bands on your finger and hanging around his neck, it was always there. for the longest time it was your little secret, and now a declaration of love and devotion — not even a shiny new gold medal could compare.

#ᯓ★ : written in the stars !#sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #sakusa kyoomi x reader #sakusa fluff #sakusa kiyoomi fluff #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #dividers: @/cafekitsune

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awritesthings1 · 2 years ago

Text

Gone with the Leaves

Pairing: Tommy Shelby / Wife Reader

Summary: Despite your happy marriage to Tommy, you feel an undeniable jealousy towards Lizzie. Perhaps a day in the forest will do you some good.

ao3 link

A/N: I'm starting a tag list, comment if you want to be added :)

“You write like you’re running out of time,” mused Lizzie Stark, former prostitute, now Tommy’s secretary. “They have typewriters for those types of things, y’know?”

You saw the volley of cannonballs that launched and subsequently landed on Tommy’s desk as the words left her mouth. It wasn’t that you expected more of poor old plain Lizzie, but you thought that the time she had spent lying on her back staring past the shoulder of a customer at the ceiling would have taught her to read a room. Nevertheless, she stood there, quite amused with herself, smiling stupidly at your husband.

Tommy, who had been sitting at his desk all afternoon attending to letters, the ledger, and god knows what else, peered up from the paper. “What did you say?”

This time, it was your turn to be amused. He pointed accusingly at Lizzie, who by then had realised her impetuous mistake. Her wide eyes fluttered to you desperately, like a bee that had indulged itself in so much pollen that it became stuck in its own honey. No, that was putting it lightly. She looked to you like a frightened child who knew exactly what kind of trouble they were in.

You made sure you looked the other way.

“It was only a silly joke,” came her spluttering apology.

Tommy squinted, and his mouth curled into a frown. Smoke chased the deep exhale from the cigarette hanging between his lips. Your husband carried this terrifying look to him that many feared. Without the peaky cap to cover his striking blue eyes, you saw his glare cut away the cords in Lizzie’s throat with just one look. How could poor Lizzie defend herself from eyes that had witnessed nightmarish things?

“I’m not clear. Is it funny that I sign my letters by hand, or are you above using ink now that you have graduated from the bed to the desk?”

Lizzie’s mouth wormed into a thin line, yet she still looked to you for help. Of what help she thought you would possibly spare, you weren’t sure. For once, Lizzie used initiative and showed herself out.

Your heels clacked across the wooden threshold of your husband’s office. Now that no one was there to disturb you both, you sat down on Tommy’s lap. By then, he was leaning back on his chair, work abandoned for the time being until he could wash the sour sight of Lizzie Stark from his eyes.

“You know I don’t like her,” you said plainly.

There was no need for fake smiles or lies with Tommy. You knew him, and he knew you.

Tommy exhaled loudly, stubbing out the last of his cigarette on his ashtray and taking a swig of whiskey before his calloused hand found your waist.

He clears his throat. “It’s only business with her.”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean I like her any less.”

Tommy loved you, not Lizzie Stark, yet you couldn’t stomach the undeniable jealousy that arose with her presence. Perhaps it was a natural inclination women had toward their lovers. Lizzie had never done anything outwardly wrong to you. So, what was it then that turned your plain teeth into hissing fangs?

Everyone knew that Tommy was one of her paying customers before you met him, but so were all of Small Heath. You never felt insecure in your relationship with Tommy; there was no need to feel threatened by a prostitute. Yet that wouldn’t stop the catty feline that emerged from its slumber when Lizzie’s wandering eyes battered at your husband.

No. Lizzie Stark would never know what it felt like to be loved by a man like Tommy. What you held in your hands each night was a transcendental, unconditional type of love—one that surpassed the heart and soul, which drew two beings together in the most unconventional yet fitting way. The way that covers kept you warm at night, Tommy watched over your hearth and kept the fire burning, even if he were on the other side of the country.

You closed your eyes, leaning into the valley between Tommy’s neck and shoulder as you listened for the bah-dum-bah-dum of his heart. They sat together in silence, cherishing each other’s presence, while Tommy rested his cheek on your head. Outside, the world waited, barking at their front door and scratching at the delicately carved wood. Even the rain lashed at the windowpanes, playing together like one elemental orchestra.

The hand not resting on your waist rose to gently stroke up and down your arm. You shivered, but it wasn’t from the cold.

“I think you have some work to attend to in the bedroom,” you mumbled into his neck.

Your nose searched for the spot where he applied his aftershave.

“Eh?” Came his gruff response.

Your hand wandered down his suit in answer.

The sheets were bundled around Tommy’s naked waist when you sauntered back over to the bed with his case of cigarettes in hand. Gratefully, he took the case from your hand, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to pull you into the warmth of his chest. Then he began the usual routine. He fished out a cigarette to offer, but you shook your head no, so he slid it once, then twice, across his bottom lip. On the bedside table, he grabbed the half-empty matchbox to light the cigarette.

Tommy was the resident chain smoker in your house. With an appetite for tobacco and whiskey, you often wondered just how he sustained himself throughout the day. Of course, there were the home-cooked meals at Arrow House waiting for his return, although that didn’t stop you from worrying any less. It was pathetic, really, sitting all alone in his study, twiddling your fingers, and sitting beneath his portrait like you were praying to him. Tommy was no god, no matter how much he tried to convince everyone else. Yet whenever headlights passed the window and lit up the office momentarily, you would stand up and peer out, hoping to spot your husband exiting the car.

He cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to the present. You loved watching the way the cigarette shifted between his lips when he spoke, even more when his hooded eyes looked over at you. Tommy was a man of few words, simply because he didn’t need language to communicate. His body spoke for him in tongues for all his enemies to understand. And more importantly, in a way your body understood.

Your hand abandoned his tattoo to stroke a thumb across his full bottom lip. Lust swelled there, eager to chase the rest of the night away into a haze of pleasure until the sun rose. As tempting as it was, you sighed at the thought. You would rather spend this time taking in your husband, remembering the fine details across his face and body, from the scar in the hollow of his cheek to the rough texture beneath his shoulder blade where a bullet was once lodged. You wanted to trace the sockets of his eyes the way a blind person would, treasuring each valley, mountain, and cut of skin as if it were to disappear the second you stopped touching him.

“You’re beautiful,” you decided, bathed in candlelight, tangled up between the sheets and Tommy’s arms.

Tommy’s brows furrowed, and the cigarette hung dangerously loose from where his lips curled into a frown. He grunted, clearly dissatisfied with your words. Tommy wasn’t beautiful. He was hard, ambitious, and unmovable force.

Beautiful was a conventional word savored for the finest women. To you? It meant so much more. Crafted in a way that would cause people to stare, sure, but there was also a poetic sense to the word. The type of beauty you would use to describe a well-written novel or heart-wrenching poem. Thomas Shelby stood for something, and that was beautiful.

“Then what are you, eh?”

A lazy smile floated onto your face, so much so that you had to bite your lip to refrain from looking devastatingly pleased at his answer.

A woman, a dreamer, a friend, a reader, an achiever. “A wife.”

He huffed, raising his eyebrows playfully.

Why was it that most women felt like they could only fit the frame of one? With Tommy, you were never limited to the endless possibilities. You treasured being a wife the same way you treasured your other roles. Marriage wasn’t the end all be all. Perhaps that’s another lie men spun—that perfectly capable women stopped existing as soon as a diamond ring slid onto their finger. How sad, you thought, to waste away all that potential when men were still free to pursue stupid ideas like war and dog fights.

Tommy was unbothered by traditional ideas like that. Change powered his ambition; he had no time for parallel lines. You could be his wife, a writer, a singer, or a mother—whatever you wanted—and he wouldn’t think of you any less.

You hummed, chasing that cigarette from his lips and stubbing it out in the ash tray by his bedside table. Tommy didn’t seem too heartbroken about it. In fact, there was some mirth in his gaze. His hands traced up your naked spine, pulling your body further into his until you could smell the smoke in his breath.

“Yes,” he breathed in loudly through his nose, “my wife.”

The following day, you were invited to the Basnett's hunting party. You would’ve been more enthusiastic to write about your excitement to attend if the whole ordeal hadn’t been so troublesome. Because a few days prior, when you were visiting your husband’s office, you had caught sight of the letter on Lizzie’s desk, a letter that was supposed to reach you days earlier.

“What’s this?” You asked.

“Oh, nothing interesting,” Lizzie had said, too occupied with filing her nails while on the clock.

You kept your composure for the sake of keeping the peace. You didn’t wish to disturb Tommy if he were to walk by.

“This is a letter addressed to me,” you pressed.

“Oh.” She stopped for a moment, then leaned over to read the letter you had pulled from the messy pile. “No, it’s addressed to Tommy.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Shelby,” you hissed quietly, with emphasis on the missus.

“Hm, I didn’t notice.”

“You are paid to notice.” You fought the urge to comment that she was paid for other things not long ago. “How long has this been sitting here?”

Lizzie tapped her cigarette ash into the tray. “The post boy dropped that lot off yesterday.”

Even if it was only two days late to reach your hand, by society’s standards, that may have well been taken as you snubbing the invitation. Frustratingly, you had to cancel your plans that day and personally deliver your letter to the Basnett’s door, citing some excuse of it having been lost in the post.

“That woman is up to no good.” You said glumly that night into Tommy’s chest.

“I’ll speak to her,” he promised in that stoic tone of his.

Whether he had been true to his words, you weren’t sure because Lizzie made an effort to avoid you when possible.

“Oh! Mrs. Shelby! How wonderful for you to join us! Come in, come in. The men are readying their rifles for the hunt outside. How exciting!” Gushed Lady Basnett, shooing you into the atrium of her lavish mansion.

Your riding boots clacked across the floor before being muffled by an intricately woven rug. You stared up at the chandelier, childishly wondering if it would hit you if it were to fall at that moment.

“Right this way, Mrs. Shelby!” Lady Basnett ushered excitably.

You debated if all her energy was for show—to please her husband and be the good wife he expected of her. After she showed you through to the veranda and down to the circle of wives who had gathered under the trees while their husbands readied for the hunt, you decided that no, she must truly enjoy planning social occasions like this, as evidenced by the way she kissed Sarah’s cheek in greeting with a wide grin.

It pleased you to know that Lady Basnett found joy in something. Ever since her eldest died in the war, she has been known to be a bit of a recluse.

“Oh, what a beautiful ring! May we see it?” Doe-eyed Catherine asked.

She was one of the younger wives, like yourself. Catherine married an older man, twice her senior. Many of the wives here faulted her for it behind her back, but not you. You saw more of yourself in her than you did in any of the other women. Because, despite the age gap, the girl seemed to be utterly head-over-heels in love with a man society deemed old-fashioned for her. And how could you blame her when you swore an oath to a gangster of all people?

You obliged and let the wives twist and turn your hand to better inspect the diamonds on your ring finger.

“It’s perfect!”

“How many carats?”

“My Mary would be so jealous!”

After dutifully showing your wedding ring, you noticed the men beginning to mount their horses.

Catherine hooked her arm around yours. “Come on, we are going to be left behind!”

She jovially pulled you along the stone tiles at a speed that made you grateful for wearing riding boots. The backyard was grand in the sense that the acres they owned stretched vastly into the nearby forest. Although there were impressive features, like the hedge they had grown into a maze and the trees that were shaped into birds.

“Lady Basnett owned an aviary of budgies. Dear little things they were, she was devastated when they all escaped one night after the groundskeeper forgot to close the door,” Catherine commented, having noticed the way your head was turned.

You laughed, because you could precisely picture Lady Basnett as the type to fawn over little budgies.

Catherine led you to the horses, where some of the wives were already perched, waiting for the party to leave. None of them carried rifles, but rather wicker baskets strapped to the saddle for the picnic they planned to have at the top of the hill while they waited for their husbands to finish hunting.

Together, you set off, having mounted the back of Catherine’s mare. Deeper into the forest you went, the black mare trotting over loose dirt and rocks. Both of you remained at the end of the pack, preferring to keep to yourselves in light conversation.

Then it all happened so suddenly. One of the rifles went off up ahead, and a flock of birds rushed at you from the break in the foliage, startling your mare. You gasped in shock and reached for Catherine’s jacket to hold on, but only skimmed her. She went face first into the dirt while you were swept into the air like a leaf and fell with the grace of a rock. The ground thundered as the mare galloped into the distance.

“Fuck!” Catherine spat.

(On her fall she had taken a mouthful of soil and leaves.)

“They’ll come back,” you tried to reassure her.

Hours later, the two of you still had not been found.

“I was a prostitute before George found me, y’know.”

No, you didn’t know.

“That’s why I’m so young and he so old,” she smiled fondly, laughing as if it were the most normal thing.

You couldn’t find it in your heart to dislike her because of her circumstances. She was your friend, and a true one at that.

What was it that Tommy said? The past is the past.

The sun began to set when one of the men from the hunting party found you both huddled together under a tree. Kindly, he let the two of you ride the rest of the way back despite your hesitance to mount another horse.

When you returned to Lady Basnett’s, with Catherine in arm, the sun had been set for at least two hours. You hadn’t realized what trouble you had gotten yourself into until you noticed Tommy’s Bentley parked in the crowded driveway of the mansion. Men stood at the gate, armed and waiting. Catherine opened her mouth to remark how ridiculous it was, but you kept your lips sealed after recognizing the guards to be Peaky Blinders.

Tommy had to be beside himself.

A young boy who was playing between the cars popped his head out when the gates squealed open. His ears perked up, and he ran inside, clutching his peaky cap, to probably inform the adults inside of your arrival. People pooled out onto the front steps, the women covering their hearts and sighing with relief, and the men holding their hats to their chests. But when your husband, Tommy, came storming out, they parted like the red sea.

He stalked across the gravel like a predator, his eyes trained on you with an unblinking stare.

“Are you hurt?” He ignored Catherine, cupping your face and frantically looking between both your eyes as if you would disappear.

Upon further inspection, his eyes were bloodshot, and the white sleeves of his blouse were bundled into the golden garters. Your hands itched to muse his disheveled hair into place, but with all the curious onlookers, you thought better of it.

“No.”

George, Catherine’s husband, was quick to whisk her away inside. You heard Lady Basnett’s voice trailing after them: “Oh my, what a terrible thing. Come now, let me pour you some tea.”

Unfortunately, tea wouldn’t make up for any lost ground with Tommy.

“We’re going.”

You knew better to open your mouth to disagree. This was Tommy being afraid and carrying on. He retreated into himself. It didn’t look pretty or like he cared, but he cared; you knew he cared. It was only that no one else was allowed to know that the great Thomas Shelby felt any emotion.

At Arrow House, he swallowed two glasses of whiskey before saying a word. You were pulling at the hem of the overcoat that Tommy had shook off his shoulders to give you for the ride home. Your fingers just couldn’t stand the anxious silence that rang throughout the room.

“What the fuck happened?”

He stood in front of you, stoic as a soldier but cracking around the exterior thanks to his hand, which itched for the cigarette case inside his pocket. (A nervous tick of his.) You grab his hand between your own before he can fish out the case.

“The horse got spooked. It bucked Catherine and me off, but we’re fine.”

His thumb rubs across your knuckles as he looks past your shoulder out the window.

“Do you know where I was when I got the call? Eh? I was handling some business when Lizzie came in and told me some posh old woman was on the line, saying you were missing.”

He exhaled sharply, dropping his gaze to you, where you noticed his eyes soften.

“I thought…” He broke off.

His chin dropped, and he went to itch his nose with his other hand.

“What did you think happened? Is there something I should know about?” Concern leaked into your voice.

“No,” he huffed, clearing his throat. “It doesn’t matter. You’re home, and you’re safe.”

You bit your lip to stop yourself from saying anything that might push him over the edge. He was fragile in a state like this in the sense that he pushed the stronger, more vivid feelings to the side because you were his wife, not a Peaky Blinder. No, you would never be, even though you married one.

Often, you would wish you could turn into the leaves that swept off the pavement and into the air. Imagine then how much easier life would be for you both—to forget the animosity of life and rise above it all, breathe in that crystal air, and then finally exclaim the truth because up there no one could hear them or cared enough to try anyway.

Cautiously, you let go of his hand and traced your fingertips up to knead away the tension in his jaw.

“Thomas… Do you remember what you asked of me? To help you with the whole fucking thing—”

“From now on—”

“Thomas—”

“From now on, let me know where you are going. I will organize a guard to watch over you.”

‘You write like you’re running out of time,’ Lizzie’s poorly placed joke from the start of the week reverberated in your skull.

Was he?

“I need you,” he breathed, the smell of whiskey fanning over your senses.

You nodded, pressing up on your toes to kiss him. A soft breath escaped him when you pulled away.

“You have me.”

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venusalexian · 13 days ago

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solet IV

it's a family thing

alexia putellas x teen!reader & barça femení x teen!reader

in which your concept of family expands and Alexia gives you the best present ever

Olga comes home from the airport in the late afternoon and finds a sight that makes her heart skip a beat. The TV playing softly in the background, two empty bowls on the coffee table, and you and Ale curled up on the sofa. She has grown so accustomed to it that she can vividly imagine the build-up to this scene.

You two coming home from your respective trainings, Alexia preparing a quick lunch (“too healthy” – you bantered) that you decided (insisted) in eating it in the living room while rewatching an old Barça game from when Ale was young (“you just wanna make fun of me”, “well yes, if you get to see me do teenage mistakes I should be able to do it too”).

Ale has not yet mastered saying no to you.

Your head moving to her shoulder but fighting sleep (“i’m not a baby ale, I don’t need a nap”). You falling asleep either way, and Ale following you shortly after, with no option to move without disrupting you.

Her soft, sleepy girls.

She juggles her suitcase over to their room, careful of the noise, changes into comfy clothes after a quick shower, and joins you on the sofa. You rouse from your slumber when she settles on the other side of Ale.

“Hey Olgui.” You mumble, eyes still glazed from sleep. Your jostling wakes Ale up, too.

“Hey, amor.”

Yeah, Olga loves your sleepy smiles when you see her. Practically identical expressions that should not be possible with your lack of common genetics and the little time you’ve been in each other’s lives.

Without a word, you tug on her arm so she stands up and switches seats, pushing her to sit on the other side of you this time. You grasp each of their hands by your sides, and move your head from Ale’s to Olga’s shoulder.

“Hey, vaya morro. She’s my girlfriend, you know?” Ale stares at you with an incredulous look.

“Quit the dramatics, Ale, you’ll get your cuddles at night, so I get her now.” You even stick your tongue out at her.

“Do I get a say in this?” jokes Olga.

“No” you say in unison, and it makes all three of you smile.

As the silence settles, Ale and Olga share a look over your head, knowing this is the perfect opportunity to have a pending conversation they have been preparing for.

“Hey, solet.” Ale starts. You respond with a hum.

“How do you usually spend the holidays?”

“Well, it’s always been just me and the avis. Not too different from any other day, just with carols on the TV and a very specific holiday menu.”

“Mmmh, and when do you get presents, bebè?” Olga starts playing with your hair as she asks, making your shoulders relax.

“The 6th, for Reyes. Nothing significant; they couldn’t afford much on their pensions. I would always ask for my football gear then.” you respond, lower, softer, self-conscious.

“So smart, solet.” mumbles Ale against your head, leaving a kiss at your hairline. You preen at the praise.

“What do you think about doing it here this year, huh? We’ll get everyone here, Ale’s family, my mami, your grandparents.”

“How, um, how would that work?”

“Well, my family has always celebrated on the 24th and Ale’s on the 25th. What we did last year was host here on the 24th, and then go down to Ale’s uncle house on the 25th with her extended family. As we didn’t do much for the 6th, just went down to Eli’s to exchange gifts, then to my mom’s for lunch. But we could do it here this year, get everyone over for lunch so it’s easier for your grandparents and you to be with us.”

“You’ve thought a lot about this, huh?”

“Yes, solet. However, we also wanted to discuss it with you. Our priority is for you to be comfortable and have a good time. So if any of it looks like too much, we don’t have to do it.”

“How big is your family thing, Ale, on the 25th?”

“A little over a dozen people usually. My grandma will be there, my aunts and uncles, and some cousins with their kids. They’re all excited to meet you. Mami has been bragging.” That makes you crack a smile.

“Yeah, I could do that.”

“It’s decided, then.” They’re both smiling at you so widely, all three of you relaxing.

“We’ve got a plan then. Now, dinner?” Olga uses your knee to get up from the couch, moving towards the kitchen.

“Pizza!” You yell, ready to cash in a reward.

“From the nice, new place by the plaza? Ale asks.

“Yes!”

“No.” She responds with a fake serious expression.

“But Ale!” you pout.

“Fine.” she rolls her eyes, but also hides a smile.

“You really need to learn how to say no to her.” Olga yells from the kitchen, once again amused at your banter.

It’s you and Ale this time who share a secret smile, practically reading each other’s minds, then proceed to run up to her and attack her with tickling. Giggling fills the room, and you can’t help but think that your new plans for the holidays are the best way to end a year filled with so much change.

“You’ve got everything you need, right?”

“Yes, Ale.”

“And you know you can call me anytime and I’ll come, right?”

“Yes, Ale.”

“And –” you cover her mouth with your hand,

“Can we knock, please? We’ve been at the door for like five minutes.”

Before she can answer you, the door opens from the other side.

“I thought I heard you two bickering.” Jana smirks from the doorframe. Ale rolls her eyes, and you smile shily at her.

Ale’s teammates, especially the younger ones, have been a growing presence in your life since that first team bonding night. Coming by the house, and in the past few weeks, even joining Ale at your games. It still came as a surprise to you, though, when Ale came back from training with an invitation for you. Jana had planned a Girls’ Night in her apartment to celebrate the end of classes and exams with her fellow teammates that were still suffering through university.

She had specifically requested Ale to ask you to join them, apparently eager to get to know you better, “considering we all know she’ll be in this team sooner rather than later”. You had blushed when hearing that part and had been equal parts nervous and excited to accept the invitation.

“I can’t believe I’m leaving you here with Jana as the oldest and most responsible one.”

“Yeah, I love you too Ale.” Jana responded, rolling her eyes.

“You know I do.” Ale left a quick kiss on her forehead. “But you better return her tomorrow just as I left her, all clear?”

“Yes, Capi. Now go, no fossils in my apartment tonight.”

“You’ll laugh less when the fossil makes you run laps next training.” Then she turned to you.

“Have fun, yeah? And call me if you need anything at all.” She wraps you in a tight hug and kisses your head softly.

“Yes, Ale.” you mumble into her shoulder. Before you realise it, though, Jana has circled her arm around your shoulders and pulled you to her side.

“She’s ours now. Fuig!”

Jana closes the door on her.

“Be good!” You two hear from across the wood.

Then, Jana turns to face you, a wide smile on her face.

“The rest will be here soon. Let me show you around.” She pulls you into the apartment. “You can drop your bag off anywhere.”

You two move into the living room.

“We’ll be hanging here tonight.” You can tell, the room looks nice and cozy, although a bit crowded right now with the mattresses covering the floor.

“The bathroom is a the end of the hallway, past the two rooms. And the kitchen is —.” She realises she’s lost your attention. Your eyes are fixed on the glass to the right of the TV. Medals, trophies, and pictures of finals with cups bigger than herself.

You don’t notice Jana moving close to your side, both of you now facing the cabinet.

“You’ll be there with us soon. I know so.” You blush at her words, unsure how to respond. She continues, though, sensing your hesitation. “I joined the first team when I was really young. I know how unbelievable it feels to even consider it a possibility. But trust me, you will.”

She holds your shoulders again, like she did when she pulled you into the apartment.

“And I, for one, am really excited about you joining us.”

You look up at her now, surprised at her words.

“It’s always amazing to get more players coming up from La Masia. You’ll do great.” Yeah, you’re definitely blushing now.

“Besides, I’ve always wanted to have a little sister. Vicky doesn’t count, she’s more of a… feral pet.” She’s smirking now.

“I heard you!” comes from the door, where Vicky and Salma are coming in.

“You could’ve knocked.” She yells, sharing an amused smile with you.

“You gave me the key.” Vicky sing-songs as she enters the room and jumps on her back.

“And I can take it away.” Jana pushes her off her back, but passes her arm through her shoulders like she had done to you, leaving a kiss on the side of her head.

“Yeah, yeah.” They’re both smiling now, and it makes you crave that same easiness and camaraderie.

Vicky then turns to you, and she and Salma move closer to where you two are standing.

“Jana’s a tad intense, but she’s right. And being the youngest in the team is a lot, but we’re super excited for you. And I’ll finally stop being the little kid.” Vicky rambles, pulling you into a hug, the action and words leaving you without words.

Salma lets out a breathy laugh after shaking your hand, more hesitant to invade your personal space than the other two had been.

“Someone save Alexia, with you three, who knows how she’ll say no to any of your shenanigans.”

Before you can respond to her, more voices come from the door.

“Hello!” Kika and Esmee enter, this time actually knocking beforehand.

“Come in! We’re plotting against Alexia.” Jana responds, again smiling mischievously and winking at you, like you’re already partners-in-crime.

“So I came in right at the perfect moment.” Kika hugs everyone in the room, leaving you for last. She envelops you completely in a tight hug, one that you know conveys a similar sentiment to Vicky’s and Jana’s words earlier.

Behind her is Esmee, who comes in more relaxed, but doesn’t hesitate to also pull you into a short one-armed hug like she’s done to the other girls. She’s quick to jump into teasing her teammates, though.

“Are they being too much?”

“Hey! We’re just being proper older sisters.” Vicky protests.

“Yeah, by annoying her.” Esmee responds,

“No no, they’re being nice. I promise.” You rebut quickly, feeling the need to defend the others, even if you know she’s teasing.

“Sssh, you don’t have to lie to me.” She continues.

You laugh properly now, amused at the whole scene, happy at the ease with which they’re pulling you into their bubble.

“Ona?” Salma asks when Jana closes the door, surprised they’re not also waiting for their other teammate.

“Nu’uh, she’s abandoned us for London this weekend.” Jana answers, rolling her eyes but with a smile.

“Booo!” respond Vicky and Kika.

“I know. I am sure she’s disgustingly happy without us.” Jana continues. You know you’re missing some context right now. It heightens your feeling as an outsider, but there is no time for you to get nervous before they’re pulling you back in.

“Come on, bebita, you’re choosing take out, and then we’re giving you the full scoop about the team gossip.” Vicky addresses you now as she pulls your arm to the sofa, quick to realize your moment of hesitation.

“I’m only two years younger than you.” you protest, in a whiny voice that actually makes you sound younger.

“Exactly, a baby.” she teases, but her hand is still holding your arm, and her smile is warm, not mocking.

“Oh, please. You’re both babies. But Vicky is right, petita, and you’re not escaping interrogation. We need to know all about you.” Jana ends your short squabble, once again smiling warmly at you.

At some point, Ale’s car should stop being witness to your anxious habits. Your leg bounces incessantly. One of your hands taps a random pattern on the door, the other raised to your mouth, biting your nails. When Ale realises, she grabs the hand at your mouth and brings it down to your thigh, where she holds it.

“Relax, solet. Everyone’s excited to have you there, and you’ll do great.” She smiles over at you as you stop for a red light.

“But –”

“No buts, just… trust me, okay? Nothing is going to happen to you with me there.”

You nod at her as the car moves, and she pulls her focus back on the road. Your leg still bounces, but your hands are calmer, both now holding the hand that Ale has not moved from your thigh as the Ciutat Esportiva comes into sight.

Christmas felt like the confirmation of your new life, like celebrating a milestone. Even Ale’s family celebration, although slightly overwhelming, solidified your space in their life. Everyone had been so excited to meet you, to see Ale’s new role, and you had ended up fitting right in –plotting with Alba to annoy Alexia, playing with the younger kids, blushing when their grandma called you ‘the prettiest girl’.

Now a new year has begun, one that you have no idea what it will bring. And for the first time in your life, that is an exciting thought instead of an anxious one. Mainly because of this right here, everyone reunited at Olga and Ale’s house, which is starting to feel more and more like yours, too.

“Here, solet. I have one more thing for you.” Alexia says as she hands you one more box. You’ve already opened too many, really. New gear, nice clothes, some trinkets you’d just wanted but never asked for.

“I thought we were done?” you mutter.

“Just one more.” she pleads, and she’s pouting at you like she’s the teenager from the two of you.

“You have to understand her, she’s actually limited herself on how much she could have gotten you.” Alba teases her sister.

“Oh, please, you almost got her the whole store!” Ale responds to her.

“Yeah, yeah, you are both shopaholics, especially if it’s for other people. Now, let solet open it.” Olga finishes the argument for them.

You finally open it, following her guidance. You’re confused, though, when it’s finally unwrapped.

“Ale, I already have my training kit.”

“Yeah, but this one is, technically, different. It's a family thing, getting a new kit for a big milestone” Her eyes are shining, and she’s biting her lip not to smile too wide. But you’re still so confused, so she only receives a frown back.

“I received a call a few days ago. That, is a first-team training kit.”

Your ears ring, and your heart doesn’t know how to hold a normal rhythm anymore. But you need to hear her say the whole thing, need to confirm properly what you’ve fought so long for.

“You’re joining us after the holiday break, you’re one of the B team kids in dynamic for the remainder of the season.” She’s smiling so wide now, a full reflection of your own joy.

You launch yourself at her, hide your face against her shoulder like you’ve grown so accustomed to. One of your newest happy places. Around you, all of your family –yes, family– is congratulating you, screaming and squealing in delight. Your grandparents are hugging Eli, and Olga and Alba are already plotting about supporting you both in matches, as you can see from Ale’s shoulder.

But you and Ale hold onto each other. A sentiment shared with the only other person who fully understands how you’re feeling right now. A reflection of who Alexia was one day. A promise of the future, of what is to come for you together.

The year has just begun, and it is already so different from what it once was.

Training is intense. Everyone is faster than you, more skilled, more ready, attuned to the sets and each other. And even if you had met everyone already, they were still so intimidating. All focused, all doing their best. Especially Ale, who was footballer Alexia, Ballon d’Or Alexia, Captain Alexia. Not, well, your Ale. By the time all is over, you’re more exhausted than ever. And for the first time in a while, you doubt.

You sit alone for a moment outside in the hall, needing the silence to organize your thoughts. Because what if it’s always this hard, if you’re not exactly made for this, if it’s too soon, if–

Before your head can continue to spiral, someone slides to the floor in front of you. You’re not sure who you expected, but definitely not her. Irene is sitting across from you, and she’s looking at you with an expression that she knows exactly what you’re thinking about.

“It’s a lot, huh?”

You nod, unsure if you can trust yourself to speak without crying.

“It was a lot for all of us, too.” You want to believe her, knowing she’s probably right, but it’s so hard. So she continues when you don’t answer.

“You don’t have to believe me. You just have to let yourself experience it all. Just trust one thing: we want you here. Your team wants you here. And that will be enough.” You nod and smile at her words. Less closed off, more calm.

“Thank you.” You speak clearly, grateful.

“Of course. You’re good, for the team, for her.” That brings a smile to your face, and you reply with warmth. “She’s good for me.”

“I know that, too. Now, let’s go to the locker room so we can all leave.” She gestures to the end of the hall, and you follow her like a duckling.

All the noise hits you at once when you reach it. The first to intercept you are Jana and Vicky, one on each side of you. They congratulate you on the good work and tease you and each other about funny mistakes you’ve all made in the past couple of hours. Irene’s words have helped so much that you take it all in stride and even jump in with your own jokes and teasing.

Once you’ve changed, a hand taps your shoulder. You turn around.

“Home?” Ale asks, eyes soft.

“Home.” You nod, as if that word is simple and not an evolving concept that grows every day since you met her.

N/A

I'm following a timeline so you get christmas in june :))

don't fully know how i feel about it which is why it took me longer to publish it but i think im sufficiently satisfied now. it's definitely my fluffiest long piece, but i hope it's not too much.

next part should come out soon, it's already half-written and it's been on my drafts the longest.

as always, I love asks and requests in my inbox, feel free to leave your thoughts there!

xoxo, a.c. 💫

#alexia putellas x teen reader #barca femeni x teen!reader #barcelona femeni x reader #barca femeni x reader #woso fic #woso x reader #jana fernandez x reader #vicky lopez x reader #alexia putellas x reader #woso fanfics #alexia x reader #solet

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lost-st4rs · 24 days ago

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Debt Collector AU >:)

Doodles based off of some scenes in the fic

~2,461 words

Cuphead tosses and turns, trying so desperately to lull himself to sleep but it’s useless. With all of Porkrind’s snoring and his mind running a mile a minute, there’s no way he can get a good night’s rest. So, the teen sits up from his sleeping bag and carefully crawls out, being sure to stay quiet so as to not wake up the grumpy pig from his slumber. Cuphead grabs his shoes from the side of his sleeping bag and slips them on, then he leaves the small shop as quietly as he can.

He just needs to clear his head, he’ll be back in a bit to take a quick nap to replenish his energy.

“An’ where do you think yer’ goin’?” Cuphead stops dead in his tracks, frozen. After a second he then turns to face the pig standing at the door of his shop with his usual arms crossed and an unimpressed look on his face.

“I’m just goin’ on a walk.” Cuphead replies, but he supposes Porkrind didn’t like his tone because after he said that he got a mean glare.

“No yer’ not. Get back in ‘ere.” Cuphead looked off to the side and rolled his eyes, but the teen does as he’s told anyway and drags himself back inside the tiny shop. He’s seen Porkrind angrier than this before, and it ain’t pretty. Porkrind points at the back room as a silent demand telling Cuphead to go back to bed.

He knows that the older toon is only looking out for him since Cuphead lost everyone he loves in the span of one night, but he doesn’t have to act like his dang dad.

Cuphead takes off his shoes before tucking himself back into his sleeping bag. Great, now he’s alone with his thoughts again. But maybe he would’ve been either way, he just didn’t want Porkrind to see him when he’s most vulnerable… That’d be bad for his ego.

Porkrind walks into the back room, sitting down at his own sleeping bag. The pig lets out a grumbly sigh and Cuphead has the itching feeling that he’s about to have a serious talk with him.

“Alright, Cup. What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. I’m alright.”

“I don’t believe that. Tell me ‘r else I won’t stop buggin’ you ‘bout it.” Cuphead groans quietly and he proceeds to turn his back on the pig and pull the blanket over his head.

Porkrind sighs again and rubs the back of his neck almost sheepishly. “Okay, I get it. ‘M sorry for bein’ nosy.” Cuphead stays quiet, Porkrind continues, “But you bein’ all… sad ‘n shit is… it’s worryin’ me.” Cuphead slowly pulls the blanket down a bit, just enough so that his eyes are peeking out and he listens intently. “So what I’m tryna’ say is… ugh, I’m tryna’ comfort you dammit.” Cuphead snickers softly and comes out from under the blanket and faces the older toon.

“Yer’ really bad at this.” He jokes with a small grin. Porkrind rolls his eyes and huffs out through his nose.

“Yeah, yeah, ya’ don’t need’a rub it in.” Cuphead chuckles dryly, Porkrind manages a smile at that. “But seriously, kid. What’s got ya’ all pent up?” Cuphead sighs heavily and holds his face in his hands.

“…Everything. I just- I’m such an idiot…”

Porkrind gets up from his spot across from Cuphead and goes to sit down beside the teenager. He pats his back lightly, and a bit awkwardly, but it doesn’t go unappreciated by the red cup.

“I…” Cuphead starts to fidget with the hem of his yellow gloves, trying to find the right words. “I was bein’ dumb an’ sold off my soul at the Dev’s casino. Again. And somehow I sold off Mugsy’s soul as well. But I just wanted to help! I- I really did..! I needed the money to help Elder Kettle with his illness…” The teen tries to compose himself, already feeling himself getting worked up just talking about the mess he’d made.

Porkrind hums thoughtfully, Cuphead continues, his voice getting a bit quieter and quieter the more he confides in the pig. He tries to hide the way his eyes start to swell and the way his voice croaks ever slightly the more he talks.

“When I had to fight all of those debtors back in the isles… I- I dunno… I wasn’t the same, I guess… I started havin’ nightmares about the Devil and fight’n my friends… And now I’m- I’m going through it all over again!” Cuphead shudders, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. You can’t cry, you can’t cry, he repeated to himself in his head.

“Sounds rough. How’ve you been handling it?” Porkrind doesn’t point out how Cuphead turned away from him to compose himself.

The red cup sniffles and wipes his nose with his sleeve. “I dunno… I’ve just kinda been- tryna’ not think ‘bout it and focus on getting contracts as fast as I can.” The pig hums again.

“Yeah, ya’ see, stop doin’ that, none of that anymore. Look, I know I’m no expert but I know enough to understand that ignorin’ serious issues like that isn’t the best way to solve ‘em.”

“Okay, wise guy. What should I do then?” Porkrind flicks Cuphead’s forehead. “AH- hey!”

“Don’t give me sass, kid.” Cuphead sticks his tongue out, blowing a raspberry. The older just rolls his eyes and lightly shoves him, to which earns a chuckle from the teen. He knows Porkrind isn’t actually mad or annoyed at him, that endeared grin on the pig’s face tells it all.

“It’s all ‘bout what works fer’ you. An’ clearly we’re two different people, so whatever I do might not work out fer’ you.” Cuphead nods, not really getting it but he’s willing to listen in order to understand the best he can. “Hmm… ‘kay, how ‘bout this? You try ta’ confront yer’ feelings and trauma, understand ‘em and accept that, yeah, it sucked, but what matters is how you’ll react to it. Will ya’ keep sulking like a baby or do something ‘bout it?”

Cuphead ponders on this, looking down at his hands. His mouth thins into a straight line and his brows furrowed as he thinks long and hard about the advice. It seems a bit impossible, Cuphead never was great at confronting his emotions, so this seemed like a rather daunting and intimidating task to overcome.

The pig pats the teen’s head, effectively breaking him out of his thoughts. “You can think ‘bout it in the morning. Go to bed, yer’ gonna need it.” Porkrind stands up, doing that old man groan that old guys always seem to do whenever they sit up and he walks over to his sleeping bag and lays down. Cuphead does the same, fluffing out his pillow before resting his head down.

It’s a lot to take in, but tomorrow is another day, so he’ll have plenty of time to think about it. Porkrind is right though, he needs to get as much rest as he can so he’ll be able to take on those debtors.

It isn’t long before Cuphead’s eyes are fluttering close and sleep pulls him in it’s comforting embrace. He feels like a weight has been lifted off of his shoulders, and he can finally be at peace, if only for a little while.

—

The Devil said Cuphead had a month to collect all of the contracts, which was awfully generous of him considering the last time Cups worked for him he’d only given him a day. Cuphead wasn’t complaining though. He’s already collected six contracts out of the twenty-eight needed, he’d lost the seventh one from that annoying demon (Bendy he said his name was?) the other day, and he plans on getting it back and figuring out WHY they are stealing the other ones and if he’s another debt collector like him. Which would be a big problem for competition.

Walking on a dirt trail beside some green pastures with trees to his right shading him from the sun, Cuphead looks over his list, his eyes quickly skimming through all the names. Already defeated that guy… those guys too… her as well… He’s got six contracts right now out of all twenty-eight so that means he just needs twenty-two more. But if you count the ones that the stupid Ink Demon already took then that would be… sixteen. Good, okay so that demon has only collected six so far, which was already pretty bad but it could be worse. Cuphead will just have to steal them back from him. He doesn’t know how strong this guy is but he’ll take him on anyway, he’s fought the literal Devil (and won, mind you), so surely some imp or whatever should be a walk in the park.

Cuphead spots a crow up ahead on the old wood fence beside the dirt trail. Its eyes follow Cuphead as he approaches. The teen then stops in front of it, eyeing it curiously while tilting his head to the side, with the crow mimicking his movements. Cuphead reaches into his sweater’s pocket, fishing out some sunflower seeds and carefully offering them to the ebony bird. The crow looks down at the seeds then at Cuphead with interest. After a moment it eats the offering from the teen’s hand.

He didn’t think it would actually eat straight from his hand, but he’s a big animal lover so he doesn’t mind at all and he lets out a small smile. Once the crow is finished eating the sunflower seeds it caws at the red cup and flies away into the forest, Cuphead watching intently as it does so.

“Didn’t really take ya’ for someone who likes crows.” Cuphead whips his body around to see the ever annoying Ink Demon behind him wearing that stupid grin on his face. Cuphead glares daggers at the other and ignites a blue flame on his fingertip, just in case the other tries anything. “Whoa, whoa, calm down, sweet cakes. I only wanna talk.” The demon puts his hands up as a sign he was friendly. For now. Cuphead gives a look to Bendy at the strangely affectionate nickname, who in turn just grins wider at the red cup’s expression.

Cuphead untenses ever slightly, furrowing his brows he studies the demon for any signs of deceit, but he can’t really tell anyways so he just opts to hear what the other has to say for now.

“What is it you wanna talk about?” Cuphead asks finally.

“I just wanted to get some things straight that’ve been buggin’ me ever since I heard about a cup stealin’ my contracts.” The demon explains and Cuphead frowns at that.

“YOUR contracts?? No, no, those are MINE. I dunno know who ya’ think you are but I need all those damn contracts ta’ get rid of my own debt.” Bendy puts a hand to his mouth, thinking silently with his tail swishing lazily behind him.

“Wait, so… the Devil sent ya’ here too?” Cuphead hesitantly nods, but then it clicks, his eyes going wide. “Well, that sure is weird. You said ya’ needed all of the contracts but ya’ see, I need all of ‘em too.” Cuphead shifts his gaze down at the rocky ground, trying to wrap his mind around this- predicament that they’re both in.

“Only one of us can get them all.” He says after a quiet moment of silence and meets the Ink Demon’s gaze.

“And so it seems. Welp, I reallyy need those contracts so I’ll give you the chance to hand them over peacefully,” Bendy grins and outstretches his hand for the papers but Cuphead glares at him, going into a defensive stance.

“Last chance, Cupsy.” Something inside Cuphead snaps upon hearing that absolutely idiotic nickname and the next thing he knows he’s rapidly firing his finger gun at the sly demon who in turn just dodges all the bullets with swift ease. Bendy is light on his feet and Cuphead just can’t seem to land a hit and it angers him to no end. Then in the blink of an eye Bendy has disappeared from sight.

“Look-“ Cuphead shrieks and shoots at the demon who appeared beside him from an ink puddle below, but the bullet goes right through Bendy and the colour from Cuphead’s face drains. The demon merely snickers and melts into a mush of ink before Cuphead’s very eyes then TWO Bendy’s appear beside Cuphead.

“You can’t shoot ink, silly!” Cuphead punches one of the clones and they too melt, little bits of the black liquid stains his glove. It’s a little inconvenience really, but it still does the job at getting him angrier by the second. “I really like you, cupface,” Cuphead growls in frustration and punches the other clone, it splatters like a tiny ink explosion, the black liquid staining his sweater. OH JUST GREAT! How’s he gonna wash that out?!

Cuphead is clearly outnumbered and at a disadvantage, who knows what other tricks this demon has up his sleeve? Heck, with an ability like that he can probably do a bunch of different terrible things! And to top it all off it seems like his powers don’t even work on the guy!

Cuphead darts his eyes around, trying to search for the real Bendy.

“We can come to a compromise, yeah? You give me the contracts and I let you go alive, how ‘bout that?” Cuphead twists around and there the demon stands with his stupid smile and his hand outstretched once more. Cuphead stares at the other teen’s hand then his face then his hand again, contemplating. No, he can’t accept a deal like that! He has his brother Mugman and Elder Kettle to save! Cuphead glares at the other and slaps his hand away.

“No.” He simply says, but it for some reason just makes the other’s grin grow wider. As if this was all just some game. “You may have your reasons for dealing with the Devil, but I also have mine.” Bendy stares for a second, quiet. Then he snickers. And all Cuphead can think is how horrible that sound is.

“Okay, then so be it. But I'll be taking this one fer’ now. Try taking it back if ya can.” Bendy waves a contract in his hand and Cuphead takes a moment to process but then it finally does and in the next moment he’s frantically searching all of his pockets. Cuphead looks up glaring at the sneaky demon and Bendy only grins a cheeky smile before disappearing into a puddle of ink. Cuphead is left there fuming with his fists clenched and his head boiling.

He really hates that demon.

—

Bendy jumps up from an inky puddle in the grassy forest ground. He dusts himself off a bit then climbs up a decently sized tree, his movements resembling that of a cat. He leans his back against the trunk and crosses his legs onto each other with his arms resting on the back of his head.

He’s having way too much fun teasing that cup, isn’t he? The way Cuphead gets easily angered is truly a funny sight to the demon, and just thinking of the other teen’s reactions at the nicknames Bendy calls him makes the Ink Demon let out a satisfied grin.

Okay, okay, that’s enough fun though. He needs to focus on business. Bendy sits up straight and takes out the yellowed papers from his suit If his math is correct, (it rarely ever is) he currently has seven contracts, meaning that Cuphead now has five. Bendy thinks back on his visit with the hot headed cup. He honestly could have taken all of the contracts easily. But he didn’t. Hm. No, no, it doesn't mean anything. He’s just been super bored lately and Cuphead just happened to be the most interesting thing to cure the demon’s boredom.

Bendy is pulled away from his thoughts when he senses something coming. It isn’t anything dangerous, no, it’s actually a friendly crow. Bendy holds out his arm and the crow lands on it and caws. Bendy giggles and pets the crow gently on its tiny head.

“Got anythin’ good fer me, buddy?” The crow caws and Bendy’s grin grows wider. “Really?” It caws again. “Alright, alright. Thanks for yer service.” The crow bows its head politely then proceeds to melt into a jumble of ink, to which Bendy absorbs through the fabric of his clothes. “Maybe fooling around for a bit wouldn’t hurt, right? I’ve got a whole dang month to get these contracts. I’ve got time.” The Ink demon says to himself then jumps off of the tree and walks off through the woods.

————

( A/N: I LIVE!!! Yah sorry for taking super long for ch.2 😓 the people back on ao3 yearned for more BUT I GOT BUSY AGAIN AGHH. Anyways yah, take ye scraps. This was a bit of a short chapter, my usual word count goal is like 3-4k but we ball. ‘TILL NEXT TIME FOLKS! )

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 (you’re here!),

#Debt Collector AU #my art #my writings #bendystraw #bendy x cuphead #cuphead x bendy #cendy #cuphead #the cuphead show #cuphead don’t deal with the devil #cddwtd #cddwtd bendy #bendy batim

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xxplastic-cubexx · 7 months ago

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forcing myself to stop playing marvel rivals and actually sleep but before i do i just think he's very cutesy here

#snap chats #the follow up frame where he slashes his sword IS very cool.. btw....#ok im done marvel rivals spamming ill try not to talk bout it as much after todaaaay #the games just very fun so far.....#but for now i slumber i have work i must do ... good night everyone !!!!!

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rafeschicana · 1 year ago

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𐙚˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡ ˚ just like her mama/daddy 𐙚˙✧˖°📷 ༘

dad!rafe x mom!reader

the constant beeping woke you from your afternoon nap. only given birth three weeks ago naps with your newborn baby were routine. you blinked, slowly bringing your hands to your face and rubbing your eyes. it’s only when you hear a shriek, do you sit up in bed panicking. you quickly look to the left of your bed where your daughter’s bassinet is, finding it empty. after struggling with removing the throw blanket that was tangled between your legs, you leave the room in search of your newborn daughter and her father.

“i’m sorry baby i know, i know mama is smarter than daddy, please be patient” rafe whispers to the fussy baby who whines in his arms. “Just let me put you down for one second!” he pleads to a fussy ari. that is when you decide to help. “i got it” you giggle walking towards the bottle warmer rafe couldn’t get started. “sorry we woke you, babe, she’s hungry and i couldn’t get that shit on.” he mumbles.

“that’s okay, our baby is like her father very impatient..when he wants something.” you smirk making him shake his head. the sound of his raspy laugh calming the little bundle in his arms. “how are you feeling?” the simple question warming up your insides. rafe was already a loving husband before becoming a father. now seeing him as a dad almost brings you to tears every time. “im okay i needed that nap” you whisper running a finger down ari’s nose.

“she's so beautiful” you now understood what everyone says about moms believing they have the cutest newborn in the world. “just like her mama” rafe bent down placing a gentle kiss on your lips. he never fails to make you feel beautiful even though you thought you looked a mess. wearing one of rafe's shirts which now had spit-up stains. his own sweats were also covered in dried-up milk. it was all part of the new parent life. you'd get adjusted soon enough.

ari squirmed in her father’s arms. bottom lip forming a baby pout. “my princess don't you start i hate seeing you cry.” rafe cooed rocking back and forth. “it’s coming ari girl” pulling the bottle from the warmer you tested out the temperature on your wrist. “just needs a couple of seconds to cool down” your girl was very picky when it came to her milk temperature. if it was room temperature she wouldn't take it, spitting it right out with a whine. It needed to be the perfect in-between. “mama’s got milk okay let's go sit down” rafe moved towards the living room with you following behind.

immediately snuggling into both of your loves as they rested on the sofa. “it should be good” you smiled passing rafe ari’s bottle. “only three ounces lets see how fast she drinks this shit” rafe joked knowing his baby was a hungry little thing. “We might have to change her schedule to a bottle every two hours.” it'll be hard but maybe she'll sleep a little longer through the night.

“hey, hey slow down princess it ain't going anywhere” rafe gently removed the bottle from ari’s mouth. ari let out an angry breath, furrowing her eyebrows. “i think she's mad at you daddy” you giggled craning your neck to kiss his nose. rafe threw his head back in silent laughter “she looks so funny when she's mad” he brought the bottle back to her mouth. ari immediately going back to drinking her milk in slow gulps. “still cute though”

“just like her daddy” you whispered before letting your eyes close into slumber.

#rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fluff #rafe outer banks #dad!rafe cameron #dad!rafe

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just-a-sewer-goblin · 8 months ago

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Collars of Duty 1

Hybrid!Simon x reader - Chapter 2 -

When a new problem hybrid is brought to the rehab center, you're called in from medical leave. Having been through hell he's classed as dangerous but you believe he deserves a chance. Hopefully you both can heal each other without adding to old wounds.

I dedicate this story to @kiwiimochi because they said they'd be interested in a story like this. I hope you enjoy and you're welcome to tell me what you think.

Content: hybrid AU, brief description of wounds, allusions to torture

The call comes through in the middle of the night, ripping you from deep slumber that for once was peaceful.

You wake with a gasp, heart immediately racing to outrun the invisible danger. It takes you a few seconds to blink the last remnants of sleep from your eyes. You’re at home, in your bed. There is no danger around, except the phone that rings impatiently in your bedside drawer.

You recognize the ringtone. It’s your work phone, which hasn’t rung in weeks even though you always keep it on and charged. It’s slightly unsettling to hear it ring at such an ungodly hour. It’s freeing too, to realize that your heart slowly calms down and you do not spiral into a panic attack.

Yawning your reach into the drawer and open it, getting the angrily vibrating phone and hold it up to your ear.

“Hello?”

“We need you here.”

You’re stunned into silence. Everyone knows you’re on medical leave. They should know better than to call you in randomly during the night. They -

“Like right now.” You recognize Elizabeth’s voice and your heartrate skyrockets again.

“Liz, you know that I’m on leave. You know wh-“

“They want to put him down.” Her voice interrupts you, full of urgency.

That has you sitting bolt upright. Putting down hybrids has been illegal for years now and the center mostly adheres to those laws. Mostly, not always and when they don’t they usually have a damn good reason not to.

Working at a government managed rehabilitation center for hybrids meant that sometimes they put their decisions above the law.

You’re already out the bed and stumbling around the room while trying to get dressed one handed.

“I’m coming. Anything I should know?”

You tuck the phone between your shoulder and your ear so you can use both hands to pull on your pants. The short pause strains your nerves. She wouldn’t have called you if the others could handle whatever was happening.

“Liz?” You prompt her.

“Belgian Malinois hybrid. Military. They found him after he was MIA for moths. Severely malnourished, signs of torture all over him. No idea how they managed to get him into a chopper and bring him here, but he is here.” She rattles down and if you didn’t know her better you’d think that she doesn’t care. But you do know her better. Staying professional helps her not to break down with cases like this.

Hectically you tuck a shirt over your head, gather your things and basically run out the door. When you started working at the center you moved as close as possible to your new workplace and because you were lucky that meant living just down the street.

Running along the sidewalk you urge her on. “What more, Liz. I need everything you can give me.”

The silence speaks volumes. She hesitates, then goes on.

“He attacked and killed one of the soldiers that brought him here. They sedated him but said if no one wants to work with him, they have to put him down. I’ve seen hybrids go animal before but not like this.”

You grit your teeth at that. You hated the term ‘going animal’ even if it was a widely accepted term when working with hybrids. Just because they we’re genetically part animal didn’t mean, that them going berserk was less human that an ordinary person losing it.

And if what she told you was true, he had more than enough reason to lose his marbles.

Before you can ask another question you reach the fence of the rehab compound and to your surprise Liz is there, already opening the door for you so you won’t have to use your access card. You end the call and pocket your phone when you approach her.

“I want to say it’s good to have you back but the circumstances make the whole thing slightly less cheery.” She greets you and then engulfs you in a heartfelt hug.

Damn, you missed her. Liz didn’t work with the hybrids as a handler. She was part of the office team but she was one of your favorite coworkers here. Liz got shit done while taking none and still she was the nicest, sweetest person around.

You nod, returning her hug. Then you breathe deeply, preparing yourself to actually step foot into the facility again. The very reason why you were on medical leave in the first place. It doesn’t feel as bad as you feared but you’re not sure how you will react to the hybrid.

“Where is he? What’s his name?”

Liz sighs deeply. “He’s in the cell. The others refused to work with him when they heard the details from the soldiers. Honestly, I don’t blame them but I thought it was worth calling you.”

You nod grimly and let her lead the way. The facility worked with aggressive hybrids a lot. Problematic cases were nothing new. But one who had murdered mere hours ago was new territory. You’re not sure this is the best decision.

Was this the kind of case you were ready to come back for? After what happened? This had the potential to ruin any progress you had made during your leave.

No. You couldn’t let him be put down just because you were scared. He deserved a chance and if all the others were too worried then you’d give him the chance. Even if it might cost you the stability you’d gained back.

Liz comes to a halt before the cell and turns to you. Her hands clasp onto your shoulders, looking at you through her glasses.

“Thank you for trying.” She hesitates briefly. “Don’t destroy yourself over it though. If he’s lost, he’s lost. You can’t save everyone.”

Her words make your throat tighten and swallowing seems like an impossible feat. You nod, despite the unease bubbling up in you.

He’s a person, you remind yourself. It’s not like you’re meeting a wild animal.

Finally you turn to look through the small window into the cell. The large hybrid nearly steals your breath. He’s still unconscious, lying on the mattress at the far end of the otherwise unfurnished cold cell. The dark pointed ears that peek out of his shaggy hair twitch every now and then.

“His name?” You ask again, your voice a whisper, even though you’re not entirely sure why you feel the need to quiet down.

He is dirty beyond belief; his hair unkempt and you can make out a slight beard on his strong jaw through the bars of his muzzle. You grind your teeth at the sight of it. Using muzzles of that type on hybrids has also been forbidden and you wonder if they found him like this or put it on him.

The fact that he doesn’t wear a shirt, only ripped and sullied pants, grants you an unobstructed view of his torso. There are various wounds in different phases of healing and his ribs are overly visible beneath his skin.

The twin wounds on his left draw your eyes. They seem almost circular and are located between his ribs. Already crusted over messily they seem to not be the newest ones; still you shudder with how painful they look. Over the ribs that lay between those wounds the skin is blackish blue and bruised.

You decide to not look closely at his other wounds as to not make you feel shakier than you already do. Instead you look at his face again. That too is covered in shallow cuts but those do not make your insides want to turn over.

His hair seems to be a deep, dark brown, matching the ears and you wonder how he’ll look, once he’s clean and not on the brink of starvation. Liz’ voice interrupts your thoughts.

“Simon Riley. Lieutenant.”

You both know rank means almost nothing when it comes to hybrids but you don’t comment on the information. You’re about to ask something else when he starts stirring and you hold your breath. Even though you’re outside you feel the tension rise along with his consciousness from the artificial sleep.

Two figures, that were obstructed from view before because they stood so close to the wall, step forward. Soldiers, you realize and they have their weapons trained on the slowly waking hybrid. On Simon.

As soon as he’s halfway conscious he scrambles to his feet, slightly swaying in his spot. He tries to bring his arms to the front but they seem to be tied behind his back. His tail grows stiff behind him, the ears tilt back and his upper lip curls into a snarl revealing his canines while his eyes fixate on the soldiers.

You can hear his deep resounding growl through the door and everything in you wants to run. This is a military hybrid, all right. Everything about him is big and intimidating, the aggression rolling off of him in waves along with the resounding growl.

Instead of running you set your shoulders and breathe deeply. “Let me inside and get the soldiers out.” You say a lot more confidently than you feel. Evidently their way of handling him is not working.

Liz raises her eyebrows but communicates with the guards inside. Slowly they back towards the door, keeping their guns pointed at the hybrid while Liz unlocks the door. Quicker than you can comprehend you changed positions with one of the guards, the other staying with his gun still pointing at Simon.

“”Out.” You command. You wish your body was as unwavering as your voice but you can feel a subtle shaking start in your legs.

The soldier seems conflicted but Elizabeth keeps the door open and he backs out too. Everyone at the center knows that working with hybrids comes with a lot of risks. If this goes south all you’ll be is a small stack of papers on Liz’ desk, waiting to be signed. And maybe a body to be buried.

You’re alone with him now, the heavy door closing behind you and the hostility rolling off Simon nearly suffocates you. His eyes are now fixed solely on you and he seems to be weighing his options, every muscle in his body coiled tight, ready to attack you.

You pray that he doesn’t.

You study him for a moment longer and you see the sheen on sweat that appears on his skin. This is not only aggression. He’s scared. Scared of you and somehow the fear being mutual calms you down. This hybrid must have been through hell and now he woke in a strange room after forcefully being sedated. You’d be scared shitless too and growl at people.

“Hello.”

You hold the eye contact and the way his ears perk forward for a second before going back again would be adorable in any other situation. The growl stutters before returning stronger than before. He reacted to being spoken to. Liz’ had exaggerated, maybe they’d misinterpreted him, because this hybrid was not on a murder spree.

Yet he’d killed earlier, you have to remind yourself. Just because you were a softie didn’t mean he’d spare you.

Slowly you raise your hands. “I’m just going to sit down, here. Do you know where you are?”

You can see the confusion on his face at the fact you talk to him and you mentally curse the soldiers that brought him in. Despite his display being more animalistic than human he is still a person before all else. How come they hadn't had the common sense to talk to him?

His keen eyes don’t miss even one of your movements as you settle down and cross your legs.

“You were found just north of the border in Texas.” It’s difficult to keep your voice as soft as possible with the way your throat is so tight. For a second you hate yourself because you’re thankful that he is muzzled and his arms are restrained.

Then you remind yourself that he is not Phillip and despite what Liz told you, you will judge him based on his behavior not on the stories. Like you should have with Phillip.

Something about what you said makes his ears perk up. He’s still careful but the previous stifling aggression is gone. Once again you try to suppress your anger at the soldiers not talking to him. This isn’t nearly as bad as they made it out to be.

“They brought you to a rehabilitation facility for hybrids that work with the authorities or the military. You might have heard of it before. It’s called “Rehybrid” which is a stupid name if you ask me but I wasn’t born when they decided on that so…”

Now he cocks his head at you and you try to keep from smiling. You know you’re rambling but it seems to help so you keep going.

“Not everyone is gifted in name giving.” Without much of a pause and consciously casually you continue on. “Mind if I take the handcuffs off of you?”

That makes him stiffen, reflexively his lip curls up again a small growl starting up. Of course he doesn’t trust you. But you’re also very aware of how unfair it is to have him shackled and muzzled when he feels threatened already.

“I know. I wouldn’t want anyone near me too if I were in your position but I think it would only be fair.” You’re very aware of the fact, that Liz, and the soldiers probably too, are watching through the window, most definitely thinking you’ve lost your mind.

Simon shakes his head and even if it is disappointing it makes you feel incredible that he interacted with what you said. Your chest expands and you suddenly feel like a big boulder lifted off your shoulders. That’s a good start.

“It’s okay, I won’t do it then. Just give me a sign when you’re ready.”

Once again you briefly glance at the state his body is in and you slightly wince. Yeah, maybe you would have to press a little harder.

“Listen. I really want to give you the time and space but I think your wounds and your body are on slightly tighter schedule than I am. I won’t force you but I don’t want you dying on me.”

His eyes widen at that and in that moment you’d pay to know what he’s thinking. It’s interesting to watch him as he seems to mentally take note of his body. He nods at you and you breathe a sigh of relief.

“Take the cuffs off?”, you ask again just to be sure. Simon nods again.

Keeping it slow and easily predictable you stand up again and raise your hand to the latch in the door, opening it and sticking your hand through it. If Liz and the soldiers listened, they’ll give you the key, hopefully.

For a few agonizingly long heartbeats nothing happens, then a key is dropped into the palm of your hand and you close the latch again.

“I’m going to take a step towards you and then you can come to me. Sound good?”

Simon nods again and you take the step. His body tenses but then he crosses the small space and turns his back to you. His chest is heaving and his back is damp with cold sweat. It’s almost unnerving the way he has his head tilted as far to the side as possible, watching you out of the corner of his wide eye. If you make one wrong move he could still easily put you on the ground.

This close you can smell him and the stench coming off of him almost makes you gag. You try to breathe through your mouth at the smell of something rotten assaulting your nose. There's also the underlying smell of piss and filth along with other scents you can't identify. You concentrate on the task at hand in order not to imagine what might have happened to him.

Trying not to stress him out more, you talk him through the short process of taking off the handcuffs. His fast breathing makes you slightly worried that he’ll hyperventilate.

The moments the cuffs are on the floor he’s on the other side of the room again and his hands are tearing at the muzzle on his head. His fingers are frantic and a nail on his already damaged hands breaks, a little bit of blood welling up.

“Wait, please!” You call out desperately but his movements only grow more hectic. The muzzle he has on is designed so the hybrid is unable to take it off without seriously injuring themselves. His nimble fingers flit all over the piece, grabbing and tugging until he decides to just start pushing it upwards off his face.

Immediately the metal cuts into his cheeks and you know he’ll do it anyway. He doesn’t care about cutting his skin in the process. Panic swells in your chest at the thought of him shredding his face just to be muzzle free.

“Please, Simon, Stop!” You say desperately in a last attempt before he pulls it off his face. Against everything you expected he freezes, eyes going wide.

“Simon, that’s your name, right?”, you question your hands outstretched as if you could keep him from hurting himself further by sheer force of will.

You’re shaking and you know he can see it. Swallowing is almost painful. “Please don’t hurt yourself, I’ll take it off of you but please stop hurting yourself.”

His eyes narrow but this time he hesitates less before nodding and stepping towards you. God he is big. You’re all too aware of how incredibly vulnerable you are right now. He could probably rip you apart with his bare hands if he wanted to.

He’s a fully trained soldier and you… you’re just an ordinary person who helps hybrids to get back on their feet. You specifically chose this line of work because you’re soft and stupidly selfless. Using those traits for work seemed like a good option to turn them into strengths.

Now you’re all too aware of how little your softness would guard you against Simon’s brute strength. Even on the brink of starvation the fact that he’s a weapon remains.

Achingly slow your hands reach up to the muzzle, feeling along it for the mechanism to unlock. His eyes stare into yours and this close you can see that they’re the color of dark honey. Nothing about the expression in them is sweet though and you have to consciously swallow against the lump forming in your throat.

You unlock the mechanism and Simon stays in your personal space for a second longer. You don’t break the eye contact and slowly he moves backwards until there is enough room to breathe between you two again.

He flexes his jaw for a moment to test it and this time you smile. His eyes narrow at that but you don’t let it deter you.

Until now he hasn’t made a move to hurt you and you decide to introduce yourself. When you tell him your name he still doesn’t answer but he’s attentive and you think that maybe it will be fine after all.

#the sewer writes #hybrid au #simon x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #cod x reader #hybrid!simon #hybrid!simon x reader #gn!reader #simon x gn!reader #simon riley x reader #hybrid

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kitasgloves · 10 months ago

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— ♬ NSFW

How about Incubus! DAZAI OSAMU who feeds on the erotic dreams of humans. He would enter a mortal's dream and feed on the sexual energy emitting from their erotic dreams. During the modern age, there were plentiful choices for Dazai to feed on now wet dreams are becoming common among humans. Mostly, he hasn't encountered any complications during his night feeding until he sets his sights on you.

Initially, you seemed like any typical adult human that he can suck sexual energy from during your slumber. You were unsuspecting and an easy target in the incubus' eyes. However, when Dazai sneaks into your bedroom at midnight and spawns inside your dream, he is dumbfounded. Your dream was lackluster and plotless. It made no sense. He huffed, where's the wet dream? What the hell is he going to feed on here?

The following night he makes another attempt, but you had a dreamless sleep, meaning Dazai was stuck in a dark void with nothing to eat. He could just move on and find another human to feed on but he refuses since he finds your lack of wet dreams fascinating. So, Dazai sets on a conquest to find out why.

You raised a brow at the new guy at work. He has a tall stature brown hair and eyes. Everyone at work was charmed by his natural good looks. Yet you can't help but find the man eerie. You could've sworn you could feel him staring at you unblinkingly in the corner of your eye. And how he subtly makes advances at you like touching your arm or leaning his body close to yours when he tries to talk with you. He was horrible at his job and your boss had to appoint you to help him whip into shape.

Dazai couldn't understand why you were frustrated with him. He wasn't sensing any drop of lust from you when he was flirting with you, unlike the rest of your co-workers. While it was easy for him to cast bedroom eyes and send a sensual smirk toward them, you seem indifferent to it all. It seemed like you were immune to anything sexual that it was absurd!

"Ugh, no. You have to fix your text and margin. Make sure there's an appropriate space between the paragraphs..."

You were teaching him how to do a stupid report, Dazai couldn't care less until you leaned forward and placed your hand on top of his as you guided him with the mouse. Your other hand begins to re-type all his grammatical errors while scolding him for writing unprofessional sentences. An incubus' senses are superior to a human's so Dazai can sense all of you. The smell of your skin, the sound of your steady heartbeat, and the touch of your hand on top of his. His eyes trailed down to your lips, all that was missing was the taste of you.

"Did you get all of that? I need a report done by the end of the day"

You told him as you pulled away, he almost whined at the loss of contact. Somehow, the incubus decided to obey you by doing the stupid report. You were pleasantly surprised at how he did well with the report that you had to give him a smile and a lollipop from your desk as a reward.

"You did well, Dazai! Keep it up"

How unusual. Dazai's face felt unnaturally flushed at your encouragement. He decides he likes to see your smile more. He tries to do well with work and gets acquainted with you as friends. The incubus has forgotten his original plan to conjure sexual dreams from you. Dazai seems distracted when you smile and laugh at him. He finds himself craving for your innocent affection. You were so naive and free-spirited that he can't help but want it all for himself.

He does try to woo you like a normal human. He left flowers at your desk, gifted you chocolates during lunch, and he even surprised you with an adorable cat plush toy. Eventually, his hunger catches up to him and he's suddenly reminded of his origin. Dazai temporarily feeds on other humans but somehow he never feels satisfied. Their dreams aren't erotic enough. He needed your sexual dreams. Frustrated, he decided if you can't give him any wet dreams to feast on, he's just gonna force them out of you.

After all, you're merely a human. Humans are weak to the call of the flesh. If he has to fuck the dream version of you so he could eat, he will. Dazai has become desperate at this point. What he wasn't expecting though, as he waited outside of your bedroom door, was the overwhelming smell of lust. It was so sudden that it sent the incubus to his knees. Dazai clutches his chest as his legs wobble. The scent of lust coming from inside your bedroom was overpowering him and it made him drool. Fuck, that smells delectable. He needs a taste of that right now.

When he quietly opens your bedroom door and peeks inside, Dazai's breath comes to a screeching halt. He felt the sweat covering him from all over as he watched your half-naked figure with wide and unblinking eyes. You were sprawled out on your bed with your fingers inside of you, vigorously pumping them in and out while your arousal coated your fingers and stained your bedsheets. Dazai gulped as he watched with greedy eyes. Your hair was all over the place, and your chest heaved out while you let out breathy moans. Fuck, there was no way the incubus wasn't turned on by all of this.

All of that insatiable lust came from you.

Your eyes were shut with your eyebrows knitted, he found it both hot and adorable when you tried to rip an orgasm out of yourself. Dazai examined both your face and your fingers making nasty sounds by fucking your cunt. You were probably ready to sleep, with the way your pajamas were pulled down to your ankles. And no panties too? The drool reaches down Dazai's chin.

Who are you lusting after?

The question made the incubus involuntarily envious. Who pathetic and lucky human have you found attractive? Was his human form not hot enough for you? Dazai snaps out of his thoughts when he hears a high-pitched moan from you. He can tell you're approaching your release. Fuck, he wished he was there to help you. He'll fuck his fingers deep and steal orgasm after orgasm from you. Or he'll use his mouth to eat you out and fuck his tongue deep inside of you. Or he'll ram his cock deep into your cunt and paint your walls with his seed. There are so many possibilities that it makes the incubus delirious.

Your whimpering was getting louder as your back arched like a cat. The scent of lust emitting from you wasn't like anything Dazai had encountered before and it made him lightheaded. Suddenly, you let out a choked sob and throw your head back while your release takes full control of you. Goddamn, you looked beautiful. Your eyes were rolled to the back of your skull, and your body was spasming, and you were screaming.

"Dazai! Oh fuck!—Hngh, Dazai..."

Your orgasm slowly passes and the incubus is motionless. His jaw drops to the floor. He heard that right, didn't he? You called out his name while you came? The revelation sends him into a frenzy as a devilish grin decorates his face. How lucky he was you were lusting after him. At that moment, Dazai realizes that your wet dreams won't be enough for his appetite, he wants the real thing. He wants to bend you in half and pound you senseless. He wants to hear you scream his name until the heavens rumble. He needs to consume you.

You were catching your breath when you heard your bedroom door creak open.

edit: here's part 2 lol

#— ♬ with love; kitasgloves #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd fanfic #bsd smut #bungou stray dogs dazai osamu #bsd dazai osamu #bsd dazai #bsd dazai osamu x reader #bsd dazai x reader #osamu dazai x reader #osamu dazai x you #osamu dazai x y/n #dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai x y/n #bsd x reader #bsd x you

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lovebugism · 1 year ago

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eddie x shy!reader who has never been kissed before? 🥺

hope u like it :D — you ask eddie why he didn't kiss you last night (shy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, established relationship, 1k)

The night after Steve’s big house party, you wake up on the floor of Eddie’s room. He’d wanted you to take the bed, of course, but you refused to let him sleep alone. The two of you ended up sleeping right next to the mattress, as lovesick as you are stubborn.

His body is warm next to yours — a furnace that warms the quilt under your body and the comforter thrown over you. He’s lying on his stomach with his face shoved into the pillow. Hair wild and mouth open and so, so far away. You feel the distance like a heavy weight on your chest.

Eddie’s breath hitches in his throat when he rouses. His eyes flutter open, and you squeeze yours shut tight. You pretend to be asleep while he stretches his tired limbs. “I know you’re awake, you loon,” he teases through a yawn.

You smile despite yourself, peeking one eye open to find him already looking at you. His curly bangs are frizzed over his forehead. His chocolate button gaze is softly swollen with slumber. He’s sleep-drenched and utterly beautiful.

“No, I’m not,” you insist.

“Oh, yeah?” he huffs and turns onto his side, shifting closer to you. He sighs in contentment when his warm feet entwine with your colder ones. “Sorry, then. Don’t let me disturb your beauty rest, doll.”

He struggles to hold his eyes open, and your tired smile widens. Your hands tremble with the longing to reach for him — to smooth back the curls sticking to his jaw and to cradle his cheek in your palm — but you don’t let yourself. You cage them under your head and crumble beneath the weight of your yearning.

“Do you feel okay?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he answers, slurring slightly as he wakes. “I didn’t drink much ‘cause I knew I had to drive us home.”

He’d partied for an hour or more, soaking in the sunlight of everyone’s drunken attention. You were content just watching him. One painfully awkward exchange on the dancefloor later — involving an almost kiss that ended up as a friendly peck on your cheek — Eddie started to sober up. He scarfed down water and bread and tried to keep a tipsy Robin Buckley from getting into trouble.

“Do you feel okay?” Eddie wonders upon your silence.

“Mhmm.”

“Then what’s this look for, huh?” His hand rises from beneath the blanket and migrates to your face. He runs a gentle finger over the distant frown between your furrowed brows you didn’t realize was there.

“‘Cause you made me sleep on the floor all night,” you tease in a hushed tone.

He scoffs. “I wanted you to take the bed.”

“And Iwanted you to sleep in the bed with me.”

Eddie’s quiet laugh fills the dim bedroom. His crooked smile is quieter. “I just didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable, babe,” he confesses.

“Well, it wouldn’t’ve,” you murmur, gaze averted and half-shut. You busy your fidgeting hand with a rogue thread on the pillow beneath you. You wrap it around your pointer finger until the tip of it blooms a deeper shade.

“Good to know,” he smiles.

“Is that why…” The words get caught in your throat, and you trail off. You don’t bother to finish your sentence. You were barely brave enough to start it, anyway.

“Is that why what?”

You shake your head against the pillow. “Nothing.”

“No, c’mon,” Eddie croons, shifting again until his head’s on the very edge of his pillow, closer now to yours. He flashes you a soft, well-meaning smile. “Finish what you were gonna say…” he lilts quietly.

You swallow hard. “Is that why you didn’t wanna kiss me last night?”

Eddie’s breath catches for a moment. He exhales a forced laugh and musters a wavering smile. “You caught that, huh?”

“Kinda.”

“Sorry…” He doesn’t know what else to say — how to say that he’s head over heels in love with you and that he’s just a total dumbass. It’s somehow easier to apologize for being both.

“It’s no big deal,” you shrug, even though the thought has plagued your mind for nearly twelve hours now. “I just— I wasn’t sure if you, like, never wanted to kiss me ever, you know?”

“I wanna kiss you all the time,” he blurts with a scoffed laugh.

Your brows pinch. Your sheepish eyes flit between both his cinnamon ones. “Then why don’t you?”

“‘Cause I want you to feel comfortable around me,” he shrugs. “And I don’t wanna make you— you know— feel like I only want you around to be all over you all the time.”

You’re made of something softer than that, Eddie figures. You were delicate, like flower petals and early spring. He wants to treat you just as gently. He loves you so hard he’s scared he’ll break you.

“Well, sometimes I want you to be all over me,” you admit in a faint murmur, eyes sparkling and lips quirking.

Eddie grins wide. You have no idea that you’ve just unleashed a pandora’s box of his affection. Now that he’s got your permission to touch you, he’s not sure if he’ll ever stop.

“Noted,” he nods, shifting somehow closer until you’re sharing the same pillow. “What about now then, huh? Want me to be all over you— morning breath and all?”

You peer at him with doe eyes, firm and unblinking. “Want you all the time, Eds.”

“Good.”

He kisses you then, a gentle peck you didn’t know someone as brash as him was capable of. His plush lips press gently against yours, in a fleeting moment you grieve the second he pulls away.

When he leans softly back to make sure you’re okay — to be certain that you still want more of him — you beat him to the punch. You chase him as he goes, caging his mouth in a deeper kiss that tastes only faintly of sleep. Your exhaled sighs fan together. Your lips click gently when you pull away.

“Woah,” you hear Eddie mumble.

It takes you a moment or more to open your eyes. You don’t realize how utterly dizzy you are until then. “Was that bad?” you murmur, face scrunched with misplaced panic.

Eddie shakes his wild head until the words catch up to him. “No. No, I just… I can’t believe we haven’t been doing this the whole time,” he confesses with a boyish laugh.

Your giggling entwines with his — innocent and pure and golden. He’s kissing the breath from your lungs a second later, with all the intensity of someone making up for lost time.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #stranger things #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble

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jinwoosungs · 9 months ago

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10/02/24; 01:06pm

sung jinwoo x fem.reader

anonymous asked: Hi, I have brain rot hours. So, what about Sung Jinwoo who believes that his significant other is his lucky charm? For example, he kisses them every time before he leaves them for a raid, and always comes back with new soldiers, abilities, or something of the sort. Or, in general, comes out with zero injuries. I know he breezes through raids easily, but it's such a cute idea! >w<

ever since sung jinwoo chose to live his life as a hunter, wishing to provide for his family in the wake of his father’s disappearance-

he always knew you were his good luck charm.

even during the times where he was still labeled as the weakest in the world, he felt that your sole presence was enough to ward off the looming threat of death.

you were someone he had known during his high school years, a mere civilian who had normal parents and wished for nothing more than to live a simple life, even with the existence of gates. you stuck by his side, never once minding his average looks or the way he dressed meekly, wearing plain hoodies and ripped jeans.

jinwoo recalls the day he spoke to you about his goals of becoming a hunter; that even though his powers were a bit weaker and below average in comparison to everyone else, he still had to do something to care for his little sister and sickly mother. and yet despite the concerned eyes that look back at him along with your anxieties, you supported him unconditionally.

that was the moment jinwoo knew he had fallen for you, clinging to you while promising you how he would work hard to build a future together with you. your own kind smile was enough to cause a surge of confidence to go through him, giving him the strength to continue on as a hunter.

now, it became a bit of a tradition for him to embrace you tightly while sharing a kiss with you before attending any raids. your words of encouragement would always echo in his mind, giving him the courage he needed to face the dangers of each raid.

from nights spent tending to his every wound to comforting him each time the nightmares became too much to bear-

you were always there for him, even when he was at his worst.

and you sure as hell deserved him now that he was at his best.

following the events of the double dungeon, jinwoo was able to escape death, obtaining a second chance by becoming the sole player for the system. and through a series of well calculated events, he was able to shed his once meek and weak self, becoming stronger than ever.

now known as south korea’s 10th s-rank hunter, jinwoo quickly became a sought after hunter worldwide, with hundreds upon thousands of people wishing to have him join their guilds or attend certain raids with them.

yet even with this drastic change, one thing remained the same-

and that was you.

you were still his good luck charm.

before entering a gate or doing a mission for the association, jinwoo would still embrace you tightly while giving you a searing kiss, stating how it was for good luck, allowing all of his anxieties and fears to melt away as he basks in your loving embrace. after his kiss, you would always reassure him, telling him that you would wait for his homecoming.

despite how silly it felt to be jinwoo’s proclaimed good luck charm, your boyfriend still swears that you give him good fortune. from mining thousands of crystals that could sell for millions, to obtaining a rare key to a mysterious dungeon, and even having a significant increase in shadow soldiers-

every single one of his greatest achievements were linked to you.

and you prayed that you could forever remain as his good luck charm, especially now during his time of need. not long after jinwoo’s mother woke up from her slumber, a powerful gate appeared in the midst of japan, and jinwoo was torn at the thought of leaving you and his family behind to deal with the raid.

you knew that jinwoo said that the gates had nothing to do with him, that he would remain in seoul.

however, you knew him better than that. jinwoo left your place after lunch, wishing to check on his sister and mother while promising to come back home to you after dinner. you simply gave him your usual kiss and tight embrace, allowing him to go back home as you prepared some things for him.

later that night, jinwoo returns home to see various tupperware containers filled with premade meals that should last a few weeks. his grey eyes widen at the sight of it all, mouth parted in a slight gape as he steps into your kitchen.

“these meals are for you and jinho, when you head to japan.” you tell him without looking back at him, already scooping a new batch of rice into fresh containers with some seasoned side dishes placed within it. “i know you well, jinwoo, and there’s no way in hell you would leave innocent people in need.”

jinwoo remains silent for a few more beats before shaking his head, already coming closer to you. with his arms wrapped around your front, jinwoo pulls your back closer to his chest, placing you flushed against him while pressing a kiss against your temple.

“how could i ever live without you?” he asks you with a teasing tone, eyes filled with love for you. you smile and meet his gaze, matching his expression when you frame at his face with your two hands.

“hm, i don’t know…. but you need someone like me to keep you grounded.”

“damn right i do.” he admits to you with a grunt, leaning in to kiss you deeply. with a sigh, you open up to him, allowing him to deepen the kiss and taste you. he acts like today would be his last day on earth, kissing you like his life depended on it all while delving his fingers into your hair.

when you became dizzy, and the need for air became too much, jinwoo pulls away from the kiss first, smiling down at you before pressing a kiss against your forehead.

“a kiss for good luck.”

you giggle and finish with your usual sentence for him, “and i’ll be here, waiting for your safe return.”

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

#sung jinwoo x reader #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo sung x reader #jinwoo sung x you #solo leveling x reader #sung jinwoo x y/n #jinwoo sung x y/n

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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 1 month ago

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The Dangers of Dream Walking -Oneshot

Word count: 5748

Y/N hated her power. The ability to dream walk was at times nice, but mostly it was a literal and figurative nightmare. People dreamt crazy and unhinged things all the time, so it was rare to ever step into a happy dream. She couldn’t understand why she was born with it, what good it did her or anyone else. It wasn’t like she could manipulate the dreams. She could only watch on as a casual observer. Until she met the Avengers.

She had been knocked out by a piece of debris during another fight the Avengers were having, and had dream-walked right into a memory of Wanda Maximoff, who was temporarily knocked out as well. But this time, Wanda turned and looked right at her in the dream and talked to her.

“You can see me?” Y/N asked incredulously.

“Yes,” Wanda said simply as her memory played out behind her. “How are you here?”

“I…I dream-walk,” Y/N explained, walking toward her. “I think I got knocked out and now…” The image of a young Wanda and what Y/N figured was her brother playing in a field of wildflowers distracted her. “I’m sorry,” she said, sensing the sadness in Wanda’s eyes. “I don’t have control over it.”

Wanda tilted her head and analyzed her. “But you can,” she replied. “I can see it in your mind. I’ll come find you, dream-walker.” Then she and the memory disappeared, and Y/N hopped into a new dream. A week later she was surprised to open her door to Wanda Maximoff in the flesh. “I told you I’d find you,” she said cheekily.

From that day on she had been taken in by the Avengers. She wasn’t an official team member, but had been working with Wanda on honing her power and using it to be able to tap into specific people’s dreams, then using the connection of being in their mind due to the dream and then going through their memories and thoughts. She even learned how to start manipulating the dreams, changing the circumstances or interacting where she could to make it so nightmares turned into softer dreams. It proved useful when she was able to get into an operative’s mind and find the coordinates and plans for the next attack. And it proved even more useful once the Avengers fell apart, the Blip happened, and then Wanda disappeared. After everyone came back she was lost for a while until Bucky Barnes asked for her help.

“We’ve got a new guy that has…well, some mental issues,” he explained. “And I think your abilities might be able to help him work through those issues and make it so he can access his powers without the dark side taking over so easily.”

“I don’t know how much help I’ll be, but I can try,” she said.

That’s when she met Bob and started working with him extensively, and was recruited back into the New Avengers. They became like family to her, and she loved being able to be a part of something bigger again. She, Yelena and Ava would have girls nights. Alexei would compliment her abilities heavily and praise her for her efforts with Bob. Bob was awkward and quiet, but seemed to enjoy their quiet moments of reading together and then forming their own two-person book club. Walker was still an asshole, but she was able to get him to simmer down most days. Then there was Bucky. Sweet but serious, sarcastic but kind, dangerously strong but soft, and devastatingly handsome Bucky.

Y/N pushed her feelings for him down deep, not wanting them to affect her working relationship and new friendship she had made with him. But it was getting harder the more he tended to seek her out after rough missions or bad mental days and she would help him drift off into a dreamless slumber, or as he sat next to her during team movie nights, or as the little friendly touches started between them that eventually morphed into long hugs and him kissing the side of her head before they left for another mission. He was usually quiet, not the one to start a conversation and preferring to be a casual observer, but when they were alone he talked and asked questions.

At night she usually took heavy sleep aids to help her completely knock out so she wouldn’t accidentally walk into the team’s dreams. Something about the pills helped her mind go fuzzy enough to have her own dreamless sleep and not unwittingly walk into other’s minds as she slept. Then one night a year into living at the Watchtower with them she had fallen asleep after a long day working with Bob. The mental exhaustion had worn her out, and she hadn’t taken the sleep aids. That was the first time she had seen it.

Her eyes opened in what looked like…Bucky’s room? She looked around in confusion, then heard heavy breathing. He wasn’t in his bed. The edges of her vision looked blurry, and she realized she was dream-walking. Shit, she thought. I’m in his dream...dammit. She didn’t mean to, and willed herself to try and wake up, but then the breathing got louder and turned into grunts. Her curiosity got the better of her, and if it was a nightmare maybe she could at least help him ease out of it. She followed the sounds to his bathroom where the door was slightly opened. She peeked inside, then silently gasped, her mouth dropping open dramatically.

It was partially a memory from a few weeks back when he’d come home from a mission with a nasty wound along his chest and she had tried to help him clean it up since he refused to go to the med bay because, “I’m a super soldier, doll, I’ll heal soon.” Bucky was sitting on the lid of the toilet like he had been weeks ago, shirtless with a bandage on his chest that she had placed there after cleaning it, but in this dream he was fully naked and she was now on her knees between his legs sucking him off. Y/N’s eyes widened in comical shock as she watched herself suck Bucky’s cock lewdly, letting out little mewls, moans and gags as she tried to take all of him, her right hand fisting what she couldn’t and stroking him at the same speed as her head bobbed up and down on him.

“That’s it, doll, fuck,” Bucky groaned, his metal hand holding back her hair and his right hand cradling her jaw. “You’re so good at this, you know that? Such a good girl.”

Dream Y/N made an affirming sound as she pulled up off of him for a moment to breathe then smiled up at him. “Your good girl,” she said seductively before lapping at the head of his cock, her spit dribbling down his shaft.

“Damn right,” he huffed. “My good girl.”

Y/N had walked into wet dreams before, always quickly walking out of them with her hands over her eyes or ears, but this time she stayed and watched. It was strange to see herself doing something so vulgar, so dirty, and enjoying it. But all she could really focus on was Bucky’s face. The way the ever-present crease between his brows was now from a look of lust and desire, his mouth agape as he breathed, every once in a while biting his bottom lip as his head fell back, then looking back down at dream-her with the most lovesick expression she’d ever seen. The way his lips said the dirtiest words and praises to her, how gently he cradled her head and she could see him struggling not to thrust into her mouth.

His breathing got faster, and the sexiest whimper bubbled up from his throat as he tensed. “I’m gonna cum!” he whispered, then a moment later he held her head down and shuddered as he let out a long, loud moan that echoed in the bathroom, his hips rutting into dream-her’s mouth. Dream-Y/N whimpered as well, swallowing as much as she could. Bucky sat there for a moment before pulling her up and off his cock, wiping at her lips with his flesh thumb and smiling at her. “Let me see, Y/N.” Dream-Y/N obediently opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue to show him she swallowed it all. “Atta girl,” he smirked, then kissed her deeply.

Y/N felt the pull in her mind and watched the vision go hazy, then she woke up, gasping for air as she sat up straight in bed. She was in her room again, looking around frantically as she pieced together what she had seen. There was a deep ache and wetness between her legs that made her groan in discomfort and she fell back on her bed in a huff. “Fuck me,” she breathed exasperatedly.

***

She knew she shouldn’t pry, that she should take the sleep aids and forget she ever saw it. But she didn’t. She let herself fall asleep naturally from then on and purposefully sought out Bucky’s dreams. He didn’t dream about her every night, but more often than not he did and she was the star of his fantasies. His wet dreams were quite…colorful. The positions he put Dream-Y/N into were intense, and the way he spoke to her was dirty but also sweet and endearing. Every time she would leave his dream she’d have to cum afterwards, pathetically muffling her cries as she pleasured herself to the memory of his dreams night after night.

During the day when they interacted nothing changed, but she felt herself looking at him more often, which was quickly picked up on by Yelena and Walker. They teased her about it, and she tried to deny it but ultimately would just roll her eyes and walk away. “I mean, he’s nice looking,” Yelena said as she nudged Y/N’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go for it?”

“Go for who?” Bob asked.

Y/N jumped in her seat and wheeled around to face him. “Jesus, Bob! How do you just appear out of nowhere?”

“I don’t,” he chuckled. “But seriously, who are you going for?”

“Bucky,” Yelena said.

Y/N turned to her and smacked her arm, making Yelena yelp as Bob nodded. “Oh, yeah, you should,” he said with a small smile. “He stares at you, too.”

She turned back around and smacked his arm, making him yelp and step away. “Both of you stop it,” Y/N hissed.

“Why are we smacking people?” Bucky’s voice chimed from the other side of the common room.

They all whirled around to look at him in surprise. “‘Cause they deserved it,” Y/N said quickly, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, adding a little shrug at the end of the sentence.

His eyes narrowed as he looked at each of them then huffed a laugh and shook his head. “I’m sure,” he smiled. “Ready for your lesson, doll?”

“Yep! I’m coming!” Y/N said in a more chipper tone, then turned to Yelena and Bob once Bucky was out of sight. She made a “zip it” motion over her mouth to them, and they both snickered as she jogged away to catch up with Bucky. He led her to one of the many training rooms, holding the door open for her as she thanked him and stepped in to find a table set up with guns lined up on it.

“Alright, first, I’ll teach you how to put one together,” Bucky said, his tone turning professional. “Then we’ll practice shooting. Sound good?”

“Okay. Remind me why I need to know how to shoot a gun?” Y/N asked teasingly as she stared at the array of guns on the table.

“It’s a good skill to have,” Bucky said, coming up behind her and grabbing one of the assembled guns. He flicked the safety off then with his other hand handed her some ear plugs. She quickly took them and put them in her ears, then watched as he raised the gun and took merely a second to aim and shoot at a target on the opposite side of the room. It hit the bullseye perfectly, the gunshot still ringing in her ears and making her wince. He then met her gaze and shot at the other four targets without looking. Her eyes widened as she held his stare, then looked at the targets. Each of them were perfectly shot through the bullseye.

“That was hot,” Y/N said with raised eyebrows and a blush on her cheeks.

Bucky laughed, a blush painting his cheeks as well as he put the safety back on and set the gun back on the table. For the next hour he taught her how to put one of the simpler guns together, how to load it, unload it, clean it, and then it was time to practice shooting. Y/N wasn’t good at it. The feeling of the gun in her hands felt unnatural, and the kickback made her flinch each time. She still hit the targets within the outline of the body drawn on them, but not in any fatal areas.

“You gotta get behind it,” Bucky said with a slight laugh in his voice after watching her tense up after the last shot. “The recoil won’t be as rough if you do.” She took a deep breath and aimed, angling her body a little differently. It helped as she shot, the recoil not making her feel so off balance. “Good. Again,” he said with a smile. After a few more rounds he stepped behind her. “Left foot forward,” he instructed, slightly kicking her shoe to make her step forward. “Right foot back. Square shoulders,” his hands directed her shoulders to face the target better. “Lean forward to anchor yourself. Elbows slightly out to absorb recoil,” his hands slid down her arms to put them in proper position. “Engage your pec muscles to squeeze your hands together, wrists locked.” His hands slipped back and down to her mid-back as a secondary anchor, barely touching her. Then he leaned in toward her ear. “Now aim.” His voice dropped, and she had to suppress a shiver as she aimed carefully. “Take a deep breath,” he said quietly, his breath tickling her ear. She inhaled deeply. “Let it out, and shoot.”

Y/N slowly let out the breath and shot. The recoil wasn’t nearly as bad that time, and it hit right in the middle of the forehead of the target. She let out a surprised huff of a laugh, and felt Bucky’s hands squeeze her sides. “Good girl,” he said proudly.

She froze. He said it. He fucking said it. In real life. To her. She tried to school her expression as she set the gun down and he stepped away on shaky legs. “Um…thanks,” she said, clearing her throat. “I, uh…excuse me.”

“What? Where are you going?” Bucky asked as she stepped around him. “We’re not done yet.”

“I just need a minute,” she said, walking fast out of the training room and towards the nearest bathroom. The second the stall door was closed she leaned against the wall and stuck her hand down in her pants. Once her fingers made contact with her clit she moaned, shutting her eyes tight as her mouth hung open. She was already so wet just from him touching her during the lesson and calling her a good girl that she immediately pumped two fingers inside her sopping pussy, causing a full body shiver to roll through her. Did she Pavlov’s Dog herself into nearly cumming every time he called her that from watching his wet dreams? Just as her thumb was flicking at her clit and getting her close she heard the bathroom door open.

“Doll?” Bucky’s voice called out. She silently cursed, her hand stilling in her pants as her eyes snapped open. “What happened, huh? Did that freak you out? I’m sorry, sometimes that first lesson can be a little intense, actually shooting the target like that.”

“I’m fine, Buck,” Y/N said hastily. “I’ll be there in just a minute.”

She heard him sigh and then walk toward the stall she was in. “It’s okay, Y/N, just talk to me,” he said softly.

“I’m fine. Seriously.” Her wobbly voice did not help her case. Her fingers twitched inside her and she lightly gasped, trying to be quiet.

“Y/N, what are you…” He stopped, then she heard the almost imperceptible sound of a deep sniff. Goddammit, she thought. Damn that super soldier serum. There was a long pause, then he shuffled closer to the stall door. “Are you…touching yourself?”

Y/N wanted the earth to swallow her whole. This was so embarrassing. Of course he knew. How would she explain this? There was no good explanation. She’d have to tell him about the dream-walking, watching him fuck her crazy in his wet dreams for the past couple of months. She ripped her hand out of her pants and flushed the toilet with her free hand, tucking the wet one behind her back as she opened the stall door. Bucky stood ramrod straight, his eyes looking dark and analytical as he stared down at her. “That’s crazy,” she said, skirting around him as best as she could.

As she tried to walk away he suddenly grabbed her and pushed her toward the tiled wall. She squeaked in shock as he caged her against it with his arms, his left knee moving between her legs and invading her space. His metal hand reached around and gripped her wrist she was hiding and pulled it back around carefully and up to his face. His bright blue eyes looked sharper than usual as he looked her over, his breathing heavy, and when her fingers were close to his face he broke eye contact and stared at her wet fingers, still soaked with her arousal. His eyelids fluttered as he tilted his head and his nostrils flared as he sniffed her fingers. He then met her gaze again and brought her fingers to his mouth, opening wide and licking at them.

Surely this was how she would die. Her heart thundered in her ears, she blinked rapidly and her mouth fell open as she watched him lick then suck her fingers into his mouth. He closed his eyes as he tasted her, and the hum he let out vibrated around her fingers. She sighed, her head falling back against the wall. Her knees shook, threatening to give out, and his flesh hand wrapped around her back to hold her flush against his body and keep her upright. He finally pulled her fingers out of his mouth and opened his eyes, licking his lips as he stared at her. “You taste delicious, doll,” he whispered. “Why were you touching yourself?”

She swallowed thickly and dropped her gaze to his chest. “I…I needed to,” she said weakly.

“Why?” he asked firmly, his metal hand letting go of her wrist and then pulling her chin up to make her look at him.

Y/N couldn’t handle the intense look in his eyes and the shame so she shut her eyes. “I’ve been dream-walking into your wet dreams for the past few months,” she confessed quickly. “I didn’t mean to, I just forgot my sleeping pills one night and suddenly ended up in your dream and I saw myself giving you head. I’m sorry.” She felt overwhelmed and inhaled shakily, trying not to cry. “I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t say anything at first, then she felt him move and kiss the side of her mouth. Her eyes snapped open as he pulled away and he smirked at the look on her face. “What else did you see me doing to you?” he asked.

Y/N huffed. “Y-you…you fucked me in the shower,” she whispered. “And on your bed. Then during a mission. Basically everywhere,” she stifled a laugh at the memory of all the places and ways he’d dreamed of fucking her.

“What was your favorite?” he asked, his metal hand sliding down to her throat and wrapping his fingers around it. He didn’t squeeze, just held her there as he stared at her.

“I…all of them,” she breathed. “I loved all of them.”

His smirk widened into a wicked smile. “Especially when I called you a good girl?”

Her eyes rolled back in her head unwittingly and she whined in his face. “Yyyeeesss,” she grunted through gritted teeth.

Bucky moaned and kissed her. Y/N gasped through her nose, kissing him back and trying to keep up with how passionately he was kissing her. His tongue slipped into her mouth, and she could taste the remnants of her arousal as she entangled her tongue with his. His flesh hand moved down her hip, over her ass cheek, then up to her breasts, kneading them and leaving a tingling sensation in his wake. His metal hand slightly squeezed her throat, pulling another whine from deep in her chest.

“Fuck, doll,” he groaned against her lips. “So responsive. Just like in my dreams.” He pulled away and rested his forehead against hers as they both breathed heavily. “Lesson’s over. Let’s go upstairs and you can choose which dream we recreate first.”

She nodded frantically. He let her go and grabbed her hand, pulling her out of the bathroom and walking with purpose toward the elevator. The entire ride up he didn’t say anything or move, watching the floor numbers rise as he held her hand firmly. When the elevator dinged he nearly ripped her from the elevator and dragged her to his room, shutting and locking the door behind her and then pushing her against the door. He kissed her again, his hands roaming over her eagerly. Y/N melted against him, letting him move her and kiss her any which way he wanted to.

“How do you wanna start, Y/N?” he asked as he licked at her neck. “You wanna suck me off like that first time you saw me? Or do you wanna fuck me? I’ll do whatever you want.”

Her hands were shaking as she gripped his shoulders, trying to ground herself so she wouldn’t collapse. “Do you…do you actually want to do this?” she stuttered, her self-doubt kicking in. “I u-understand if you’re…mad or–”

“Stop that,” Bucky said, gripping her cheeks and making her look at him again. “What you saw in my dreams is exactly what I want. You. I want you. I’ve been falling for you from the moment we met, doll. I want your body,” he kissed her lips. “I want your mind.” He kissed her forehead. “I want your heart all to myself.” He dipped down and kissed the spot over her heart, making her almost sob. “I want you to be mine, and I want to be yours.” The look on his face and the hope in his eyes was almost too much to bear as he gazed at her.

“I want that,” Y/N nodded. “I want all of that. I’m yours, and I want you to be mine.”

“Already am,” he shook his head with a knowing smile. “I’m yours.” He kissed her again, but this time it was softer, sweeter, and the tenderness made her whimper against his mouth. Her hands moved up to hold him by the back of the neck and keep him close to her, and he used the leverage of her hands there to lift her and make her wrap her legs around his hips. Bucky turned them towards his bed and laid her on it, continuing his kisses as he stayed there with her for a moment.

When he moved his kisses to her cheek and down to her neck she finally found her voice. “I want…I need you to make me cum with your fingers,” she said. “I need to cum so bad, Buck. Please…please honey…”

“Mmh, I like that,” Bucky smirked against her neck. He quickly stripped her of her clothes, leaving her naked and splayed out on the bed. His eyes hungrily gazed at her as he stripped himself, and she ogled him openly as his flesh hand moved closer to her pussy.

“No, not that one,” Y/N said.

Bucky looked like he short circuited for a moment, his eyes widening as he stared at her in shock. Then his eyes narrowed and he brought his metal hand forward, hovering it over her pussy. “You want my metal fingers?” he asked, sounding perplexed and in awe. She nodded, smiling softly at him. He let out a long sigh, like he was relaxing after a long day, then brought his metal hand up to her face. “Open up,” he instructed. Y/N opened her mouth and he dipped his middle three fingers into her mouth. She licked and sucked them, loving the way the metal felt against her tongue and giggling at the clink sound they made against her teeth. When he felt like they were lubed enough he pulled them out of her mouth and brought his hand back down between her legs. “Good girl,” he praised her with a knowing smirk.

She visibly shivered at the praise, and he sunk two fingers into her without warning. Y/N gasped, her back arching at the sudden but pleasant intrusion that her body had been yearning for. He pumped his fingers slowly, letting her get adjusted to them and watching her carefully, making sure she wasn’t in any pain or discomfort. His eyes couldn’t seem to decide whether to stay on her face or her pussy, mesmerized by the slick sounds coming from between her legs and the moans and whimpers falling from her lips.

She was so close already, and whimpered at the need and desperation that made her hips tremble in his hand. The metal felt amazing inside her, somehow staying cool against the immense heat radiating from her pussy. Bucky could tell she was struggling to finish and leaned over her a little bit, bringing his face close to her pussy. He suddenly spit on her clit, and she flinched at the added warmth as well as the sound, her breathing getting even heavier at how hot that was. His metal thumb started circling around her clit, rubbing in his spit as his fingers continued to fuck her. He watched her squirm for a moment before getting close again and then licking at her clit. Her hips bucked into his face, but that only seemed to drive him on as his flesh hand held her left thigh tightly to hold her down, his metal fingers moving faster inside her as the tip of his tongue flicked her clit.

“Holy fuck, doll,” he mumbled against her. “So good…let go and cum, Y/N. Be my good girl and cum.”

The build-up of her orgasm was finally about to tip over the edge. She reached down and gripped Bucky’s hair in her fingers, tugging at it as her hips grinded against his mouth. He moaned, sucking at her clit hard, then teasingly nibbled at his with his teeth. She came with a shriek, her legs clamping against his head as she bucked against his face again and again. Bucky kept moaning into her, his mouth and fingers refusing to stop and letting her ride out the orgasm as long as she wanted.

Once she stopped shaking he gave her one last broad lick and eased his fingers out of her, then put them in his mouth and licked them clean. She watched him enjoy her cum, the arousal rebuilding quickly. “Honey,” she breathed. His eyes flicked up to her face as he pulled his pointer finger out with a pop. “That was so good…thank you,” she huffed.

Bucky smiled and wiped his hand on the comforter before climbing over her and slotting his hips between her legs. His cock was heavy and hard laying on her pussy and lower stomach. Her hips squirmed again at the feeling, and he smirked watching her writhe uncomfortably, her lustful frown as she looked down at him making him beam. “So desperate for my cock, doll?” he teased, leaning down to kiss, lick and suck at her tits insistently.

“Yes,” she said unabashedly, her fingers back in his hair and scratching down his scalp.

“Is this how you want it?” he asked, dragging his lips across the skin of her chest. “The dream where I fucked you hard and fast on my bed, with you begging me to fill you, huh?”

“Oh my…GOD YES!” she grunted.

He chuckled against her sternum before moving back up and kissing her. “On your stomach, doll,” he instructed. Y/N immediately rolled over, planting her knees on the bed and raising her ass in the air with her face down in the bed. She heard him huff another laugh and then position himself behind her, rubbing his cock through her soaked lower lips. His flesh hand slapped her ass cheeks, and she whimpered again at the sting that he rubbed out gently. “Such a good, obedient girl,” he said lowly, teasing her pussy with the tip of his cock over and over again. “Go on. Beg.”

She turned her head to try and look at him as best as she could, her eyes pleading with him as she shook her ass back against his hips. “Bucky, honey, please…please? I need you to fill me. I want your fat cock to fuck me and fill me up, please. Please please please, honey? I’ll be so good. Your good girl.”

His eyes rolled back at that and his mouth dropped open. “Damn right you are,” he groaned, then thrust forward and filled her completely. Y/N yelped at the sudden stretch and fullness, her face smooshing back into the bed as she dropped her head down and her own eyes rolled back. He was perfect. She had never been so full in her life, and she knew instantly that she was ruined for any other man. Bucky let her adjust for a minute, a deep hum vibrating in his chest that she could surprisingly feel through her pussy, then he rolled his hips. That pulled a whine from her, and from then on it was like a bargain between them. A roll of the hips for a moan. A hard snap for a whimper. Widening her legs for a grunt and hands squeezing her ass cheeks. They were playing with each other, learning what the other wanted and responded to the most. Y/N had never felt so turned on or completely loved and cared for, and it made her sniffle as she started to cry.

“You crying, doll?” Bucky asked, laying his front over her back and kissing between her shoulder blades. “Does it feel that good?”

“Yes, honey,” she moaned, her fingers grasping the comforter in a death grip. “Never been so…mmh, full before,” she said.

“Really? Aw, buttering me up, huh?” he asked, the teasing tone coming back full force, his lips tracing along her back and his teeth nipping at her randomly, making her tense up. The way his beard was leaving goosebumps along her sensitive skin was tantalizing. “Gonna keep praising me ‘til I cum deep inside this pretty, sloppy pussy? God, you’re better than my dreams, Y/N.”

Y/N shivered at all the different sensations coming together to make her start tipping over the edge of another orgasm. Her face thrashed against the bed as the pace of his thrusts picked up, snapping into her hips so hard that the slapping of skin echoed in his room. His fingers gripped her hips hard, and she knew she’d be bruised and sensitive the next day, but that somehow made it even hotter. “Oh fuck…fuck, fuck, Bucky I…ungh,” she groaned as her pussy pulsed around him. “Fuck me full, honey! Please!”

“Yeah,” he huffed, the pace getting even faster. He leaned over and adjusted his feet on the bed, making it so he was mounting her. He tucked his face into the side of her neck, his heaving breaths heating her ear. “Take it, doll. Take all of me like the good girl you are. And all mine.” Bucky bit her shoulder, not hard but enough to make her shudder. “Mine,” he growled around the muscle in his mouth.

Y/N came careening over the edge, cumming so hard around his cock that she screamed and shook violently beneath him. Her pussy pulsed in waves as the orgasm rolled through her body and to each extremity, her vision going white as her voice was muffled into the mattress. Bucky clenched behind her, his hips pistoning into her a few times more until he whimpered in her ear and then shoved himself as far in as she could and stiffened. Another deep hum vibrated through him as he came, and she could feel the warmth increase inside her as he filled her up just the way she wanted.

It took her a few minutes to come back to herself, but when she did she could still feel him rutting into her from behind, his lips still at her shoulder but kissing and licking at the bite mark he left, and his hands generously massaging over her back, sides and hips. He gripped his cock between them and squeezed, making sure to get every last drop of cum was emptied into her still undulating pussy walls, her hips twitching periodically.

“Good girl. You’re such a good girl,” he said, his voice sounding tired. “Did so good for me, doll. That was amazing. Thank you. Thank you for walking into my dreams. My pretty dream girl. Fucking hell…”

She giggled as he turned to his side and pulled her with him, keeping his cock tucked inside her as best as possible as he settled them more comfortably. “My dream man came to life,” she teased, reaching back and pinching his hip.

Bucky laughed and grabbed her hand, pulling it up to his mouth and kissing her fingers. “Your dream man. My good girl.”

She nodded and leaned her head back into his chest, and he kissed her top of her head near her hairline. “Your good girl.”

@nerdreader

#marvel #bucky barnes #smut #bucky barnes x reader #ask #request #anon ask #oneshot

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