#so much so that i almost got actually physically sick when i pieced that together | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mildkleptomaniac · 2 years

Text

maple syrup — rafe cameron x reader

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: not a request. based off the song maple syrup by the backseat lovers. one of my fav bands!! check em out.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.4k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: toxic relationship, presumed cheating, breaking up, physical harm, gas lighting, alcohol, drugs.....essentially angst. self sabotage on rafe’s end. hes the bad guy.

𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆: this might be a heavy read regarding toxic relationships and how they downward spiral. the piece switches perspectives but mostly sticks to rafe’s pov.

I still have your picture on the wall I still have the nightmares Where I would have to call you to calm down

It’s been three months since Rafe and Y/N broke up, yet he still had a picture of her on his dresser. His muscular arms wrapped around her frame as she sat in between his legs on the Druthers. She had one of the sweetest smiles spread across her face, eyes squinted—he could almost hear her laughter from the photo. He wore sunglasses and had a charming smile, his typical self.

He could remember that day perfectly. It was the beginning of the end for the couple.

The day was spent lounging and soaking up the sun, sharing drinks with the Cameron’s, and watching Ward and Rafe fish while Sarah and Y/N would gossip.

After a long day out on the boat, Y/N gathered her and Rafe’s items before heading up to his room. She emptied her bag and heard his phone vibrating constantly—receiving all the texts that the lack of reception caused. Her eyes caught a glimpse of another girl’s name with a message saying she had fun with him last night.

Y/N swallowed her emotions fast as Rafe walked into his room, slipping his arms around her waist and kissing the nook of her neck. He noticed something was off when she didn’t melt into his touch like usual.

Maybe she was just tired, he thought.

The two took a quiet shower together, Y/N trying to process what she just witnessed. She had looked at Rafe differently since that moment. She couldn’t confirm anything, but he told Y/N last night he was with the guys.

He wasn’t.

“Babe, what’s the matter? You seem off ever since we got back from the boat. You seasick?” Rafe ran a hand through his wet hair before sitting on the edge of the bed.

She shrugged her shoulders, she felt sick for sure, but not for that reason. “I don’t know…” She mumbled. “Actually, were you out with the boys that night?” She turned to face him.

Rafe’s face dropped but quickly masked it. He lied straight through his teeth.

She believed him, but it didn’t change the panic that took residency in her chest. The anxiety quickly turned into trust issues—calling him to ask for validation about where he was and who he was with.

The sound of her voice cracking and the trepidation still haunts him to this day. He could imagine her biting her nails and pacing around her room while holding the phone between her shoulder and head.

No matter how many calls, he could never calm her down.

I still think about you all the time When I step out of the shower I'm reminded of the night When we slept in the back of your car And you left me with a pretty cool scar

Y/N still thought about Rafe all the time. A towel draped around her body, she stared at herself in the mirror. Every inch of her skin, he had touched and tainted. The tempestuous graze of his fingers, lips that brushed against the skin of her neck, and the warmth of his body against her’s. Y/N only ever focused on the good of their relationship, but she should’ve realized sooner it was nothing but good–healthy.

She wished she didn’t love him anymore, but no matter how much soap she lathered on—he was still there. Her finger traced over her arm, gently. She felt like a wound that would never heal after dating Rafe Cameron.

He left her with a scar.

Y/N remembered the night perfectly when Rafe gave her this scar. Y/N’s parents were mad at her for coming home past curfew, so they would lock her out of the house.

Y/N would sleep in the back of her car, filled with blankets and pillows. At least her car was relatively big so the trunk was quite comfortable. She was fine sleeping alone most of the time, but ever since seeing that text, she wanted the comfort of her boyfriend.

Chewing on her lip, she pulled the blankets closer to her chest.

“Hi, Rafe,”

“What, Y/N? I told you I’m out tonight with the boys again.”

“Um…sorry. My parents just locked me out and I just…wanted to sleep with you. It’s been a hot minute.” Something happened to Rafe and she wasn’t sure what it was, but it wasn’t her boyfriend of nine months.

Y/N heard shuffling in the background layered with banter and laughter—and the sound of a girl's voice begging for him not to leave.

Rafe sniffled, sucking air into his nose, “Yea-yea, I’ll do that.”

Once the two were face to face, everything went wrong. The boy climbed into her truck, his head spinning and she noticed he wasn’t himself.

“Are you on drugs, Rafe?”

“Wait? No! What the hell are you talking about?” He suddenly got defensive, furrowing his brows.

“You’re obviously on something to react to me that way.” Y/N had enough of the wishy-washy behavior from him. “And who was that girl you were with?”

“Oh my god, Y/N. Am I not allowed to have girlfriends? I think you would like her and maybe benefit from learning a thing or two from her. Like, she doesn’t talk to me like you do. You’re just making shit up to be mad at.”

She crossed her arms. “Rafe—are you cheating on me?”

“Why can’t you just listen? I work so hard to be the perfect boyfriend and all you can do is worry about her.”

“Do you hear yourself right now? You’re high and I just wanted some—“

“Some validation, I know! You ask that every time on the phone. Don’t you think I need some validation or some shit?”

Y/N fell silent, not wanting to interact with him right now. She turned her back to him, but within moments she got out of the trunk. She left the hatch open and pointed for him to get out.

“Leave, Rafe. I’m better off sleeping alone tonight than having to deal with everything you’re saying.”

Her boyfriend scoffed and turned to laughter. He rolled his eyes and got out of her trunk. “You really kicking me out? No. I left the party for you and I’m gonna stay. Or else I’ll get a call with you crying—“

“Rafe Cameron, leave. Now.” She spoke firmly.

He didn’t like the way she was speaking to him, causing him to push her against the car.

“Huh? Or what?” He inched towards her, leaving little to no room. She clenched her eyes shut.

Her best and first thought was to push him off of her, but he grabbed her wrist and pushed her back into the vehicle. Her arm was scraping against sharp metal that sliced her skin.

Your purple sweater's sitting in my room I tried to wear it, but I knew that it would smell like you I saw you dancing at the show tonight I stood in the back And I think that we both know why

In the corner of Rafe’s bedroom lay Y/N’s purple sweater. A thin piece she lent to Sarah one night after complimenting it so many times, but she never ended up wearing it. She claimed that it wasn’t her color after all.

The boy hadn’t seen his ex in three months, but he knew if he went to move it—it would smell just like her and he couldn’t afford that. Would it smell like the summer nights spent together on the dock? The smell of a waffle cone with her favorite ice cream melting down the sides? The salty, buttery popcorn they would get at the country club as they watched a movie on the projector? Maybe the smell of her fruity little drinks she’d mother in her hand the whole night at parties.

Rafe Cameron couldn’t think poorly of his ex, except when his judgment faded on a high.

At the Boneyard, he stood next to Topper and Kelce. They were eyeing all the people on the beach as they nursed their cold beers, the condensation coating their fingers.

“Dude, I can’t believe Sarah is here with some Pogue.” Topper shook his head, full of distaste at the sight of his ex with a Pogue. John B. Routledge. Rafe bit his tongue and made no comment, at least he would do all the work that Rafe no longer had to do. “What does she see in him anyway? He can’t…he can’t support her—right?” Topper was looking for some validation, but Rafe couldn’t give a shit about it at the moment.

“Yea, man, he’s just a Pogue.” That was all Rafe could muster.

He took one quick glance over at his sister and saw Y/N with them. She was dancing with another Pogue—JJ Maybank. Her body swayed to the music, a large smile plastered on her face as she moved. Maybank’s hands held onto her waist and he looked at Y/N in a way he didn’t like. Maybe it was the way he used to look at Y/N.

He had no reason to be mad, but emotions didn’t make sense with the influence of alcohol and drugs. His fingers clenched around the glass bottle, almost tight enough to break it.

Kelce patted Rafe’s shoulder, dragging him over to another group of friends. The girl that ruined it all (Rafe had yet to take the accountability he ruined it all) wrapped her arms around his neck, begging for a good time.

Y/N and Rafe avoided each other that night. They both knew why.

Did it hurt When I kicked you to the curb? Now I'm all alone I guess I'll never learn And I lied When I took you on a drive And I said I'd never speak to her I wish I would’ve kept my word

“Baby, c’mon, let me just take you on a drive and we can talk about it.” Rafe ran a hand through his hair, pacing back and forth in front of Y/N. She pursed her lips and held her arms crossed and close to her chest. After the other night outside her car, she wasn’t entirely sure of what to feel towards Rafe. At this point, was were they dating? Broken up?

“Fine,” She finally agreed, reluctantly. Her father warned her about Rafe and the kind of boy he was becoming. He said he would hate to see a boy ruin her confidence, to see all the hard work she built over the years be crumbled–especially by a Cameron.

She got into the car, her body leaning against the car door as she watched all the houses go by. Silence lingered in the air, other than the tapping of his fingers on the wheel.

“I didn’t cheat, Y/N. I need you to trust me and uh…believe me. If it makes you feel better, I’d never speak to her again. Ever.” His words felt like vomit. It spewed out of his mouth and he didn’t even look at her. She glanced at him, raising an eyebrow.

“If you didn’t cheat, why are you getting so worked up? It hurts more to lie to me, Rafe.” Y/N replied to his statement.

“Y/N, my god, see–this is why we aren’t working out. I offered a solution and you just—dismissed it!” He was getting worked up again. He couldn’t confess she was rolling around in the sheets of some other’s girl bed, off of an intense high. He didn’t want to admit that he was the one at fault.

“Take me home, Rafe,” Y/N demanded. He glanced at his girlfriend, at the road, back at her, before slamming his fist onto the wheel. He drove her home, pulling into the driveway. She unbuckled herself quickly and looked at Rafe.

“If you break this promise and don’t get your shit together, Rafe, we’re done.” And with that, Y/N slammed the door and hurried to her front door.

Later that night, Y/N found herself crying to Sarah about everything. She offered the girl an invite to hang out with the Pogues and she agreed. It was awkward at first, all of them knew her as Rafe’s girlfriend. They couldn’t figure out why a girl like her was with someone like him–especially hearing everything he did to her through the grapevine.

She found comfort in the friend group of The Pogues. She adored listening to the way Pope rambled and the way Kie would have a beneficial remark to add. John B and Sarah were smitten, almost spiking jealousy in Y/N that she no longer had that. JJ offered her a beer and sat beside each other. She watched them all act like buffoons and wanted to stay here for quite some time.

It didn’t take too long for Y/N to figure out Rafe was still spending time with that girl and making a mess out of himself. She wanted to help him, but she realized it wasn’t her job to fix a broken boy. She wasn’t going to mother him back–it wasn’t her job, especially as a girlfriend.

She went over to the Cameron’s, JJ dropping her off in front of the house. Her heartfelt heavy as she took every step to the front door. She loved him too much to do this, but he was dragging her down and she didn’t want that. She loved Rafe Cameron. Her first love. Everything was so good until it wasn’t–and when it was good between them, it was so good. So intoxicating to have his hands on her body.

Before she approached the door, Rafe stormed out of the house. Face red and full of fury.

“You fucking a Pogue? Huh? You wanna cheat on me with those lowlife-ers? Trying to get back at me for cheating on you? That’s so pathetic, Y/N. You need to get off this property now and get out of my fucking life.” Rafe yelled across the lawn, his hands flying left and right.

She didn’t need to say anything, everything was proven. She swallowed her feelings and went back to JJ in the car.

Rafe was the one to kick her to the curb, but he was left all alone. Rafe held too many internal battles—he’ll never learn. He picked up the picture before facing it downwards on the dresser. He wished he would’ve kept his word.

#rafe cameron #( rafe cameron )#rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #obx imagine #outer banks imagine

252 notes · View notes

criminalmindzjunkie · 4 years

Text

Hungry Eyes

masterlist

Summary: Spencer is tired of hiding your relationship.

A/N: The idea for this fic came from a lovely anon that requested a fic based on She’s So Nice by Pink Guy. I also drew inspo from Hungry Eyes by Eric Carmen (strange mix, but stay with me here.) So basically, a lot of Dom!Spencer goodness. I’d like to say a huge thank you for almost 1k followers, because wow. I never imagined 5 people would actually want to read my writing. I love you all, and I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future works!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Warnings: swearing, jealousy, degradation, spitting, slapping, oral sex (male and female receiving), spanking, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex

Word Count: 5.5k

“That is one fine piece of ass. Don’t think I could get any work done with a sweet little thing like that prancing around my precinct,” mutters yet another sleezeball detective, beady eyes trained on you like a lion might study their prospective prey. It’s moments like these that Spencer has to remind himself that patience is a virtue – that he must bite his tongue because he’s at work and that means he has to act professional. Even if those around him don’t seem capable of affording him the same luxury.

So, it’s with a clenched jaw and all the self-restraint that he can muster that Spencer forces himself to focus on the task at hand. Because Spencer is a professional, and there are more pressing matters that demand his undivided attention. The detective could be dealt with later – in the form of a complaint to the higher ups. But for now, patience.

Usually, this wouldn’t be a problem. Years on the job had taught Spencer to remain level headed no matter the circumstance. Usually, Spencer could tune out the locker room talk in favor of immersing himself into the case. But when it came to you, or rather, people who dared to look upon you with eyes laden with lustful intentions, Spencer had a rather short fuse.

It happens often, and he supposes that he shouldn’t be surprised. You’d certainly turned his head the first time he was fortunate enough to lay eyes on you. He’d nearly broken his neck trying to steal another glimpse of you as you walked past him on your way to Emily’s office on your first day. No one would ever describe Spencer Reid as forward, but on that day, he was the most brazen he’d ever been.

Throwing caution to the wind, Spencer made a split-second decision stop you and introduce himself.

It was the best decision he would ever make.

So, yes – he understood why the head of everyone you passed turned your way, eager to bask in your unparalleled beauty. But that didn’t mean that he had to like it. In fact, every time Spencer caught some imprudent bastard leering at you, he had to remind himself that enacting physical force on another person with no real reason could cost him his job. That, and he was above resorting to violence – or at least he was, until you came around.

Part of his anger was rooted in the obvious lack of respect. It didn’t matter if Spencer held your hand in his as the two of you walked down the street, or if he kissed you on the lips in the middle of a crowded restaurant. All the PDA in the world did nothing to assuage the lingering stares, and Spencer felt his sanity chip away with every passing day.

In the beginning, keeping his relationship with you a secret from your colleagues seemed like a good enough idea. Both of you were in agreement that you didn’t want to your personal relationship to affect your professional one, so when the elevator doors opened up and the two of you stepped out into the bullpen, you both were on your best behavior. And it was okay at first – Spencer was able to put his romantic feelings aside and focus on his work, all while still being able to make eyes at you from across the room. It was the perfect arrangement.

Until it wasn’t.

Because it wasn’t enough that you were gorgeous – you were also the most selfless person that Spencer had ever met. Always eager to lend a hand to anyone in need – always seeing the best in everyone, regardless of if they deserve it or not. It was an admirable quality to have, and he loved you for it, but on days like today he wishes you were a little more perceptive.

That, and he wishes you’d chosen to wear anything but the tight little skirt and low-cut top that you were currently sporting. Not that he didn’t love the way the fabric clung to your figure like it was tailor-made for you – because he did - it was just that every other male in the precinct seemed to enjoy it as much as he did. And that made Spencer’s blood boil.

The tipping point comes when, just as Spencer is trying to hunt you down and propose a quick lunch break, he finds you engaging in conversation with the very same detective that had been spouting lewd comments about you all morning. You’re seated at the breakroom table, clutching a fresh cup of coffee in hand as you look up at the man, a polite smile upturning your lips as you listen to him drone on about how his amateur baseball team had won some stupid fucking tournament the previous weekend. He’s smiling down at you, endlessly smug and way too pleased with himself at having captured your attention.

It makes Spencer sick.

His reprieve comes when your eyes flit to the doorway and you flash him a breathtaking smile. It makes him warm from the inside out, and Spencer wants nothing more than to plant kiss after kiss on your lips. Unfortunately, he can’t, so he settles on returning your smile.

“There you are,” Spencer greets as he crosses the room before coming to a stop next to you. “I was thinking we could go grab lunch.”

“Is it really lunch time already?” you murmur as you glance down at your watch. “I guess I let the day get away from me. Detective Yarborough was just telling me about the baseball game his team won this weekend.”

“Oh, was he now,” Spencer feigns interest as he turns to face the man.

“Yup,” you say, completely oblivious to the uncomfortable tension. “Didn’t you tell me you played in a baseball game once?”

This piques the interest of Yarborough and he raises an eyebrow at Spencer.

“You play?” he asks, tone laden with disbelief.

“Not exactly.”

The detective merely harrumphs in response, and an uncomfortable silence falls on the room.

Your eyes dart between the two men and your brows furrow adorably as you try to make sense of the almost palpable animosity.

“Okay… So, lunch. Did you have anything in mind, Spence?”

“There’s a really good pizza joint two blocks from here,” Yarborough chimes in. “I could show you, if you like.”

He acts as if the offer extends to you both, but the way he looks only at you when he says it tells Spencer otherwise.

“The hospitality is appreciated, but that won’t be necessary,” Spencer breezes, clipped and to the point. He’s able to see in his peripheral vision the way your eyebrows raise in shock, but he’s too busy glaring at the detective to care.

“Uh, yeah. Thanks anyways, Detective,” you mutter confusedly as you stand.

“Anything for a pretty lady such as yourself,” he replies. “And you can call me Trevor.”

Spencer’s hands are clenched into fists and he has to actually bite down on his tongue to keep from doing something he’d surely regret later. You bid Trevor ado with a smile and a parting wave, and then Spencer’s ushering you out of the room and down the hall, hand placed firmly on your back. He can’t do much in regards to initiating physical contact, but he allows himself this miniscule act of PDA. The feeling of your warmth radiating through your blouse is the only thing keeping him from giving into his primal instincts. Instincts that are screaming at him to put that smarmy bastard in his place.

The hours after lunch pass by rather uneventfully. You accompany Tara when she goes to interview the victim’s family, and for the first-time all-day Spencer is able to repress his frustration long enough to focus on piecing together a geographical profile. By the time you and Tara return, the sun has long since disappeared from the sky and fatigue is rolling off everyone in waves. When Emily finally announces the end of the day, she’s met with absolutely no resistance.

Spencer immediately scans the room for you, only to frown when he sees that you’re nowhere in sight. In fact, he hasn’t set eyes on you in well over an hour, too busy wrapping up the days’ work to notice your absence until now.

“Has anyone seen Y/N?” Spencer calls out. His question is met by several shaking heads.

“I think she’s busy,” JJ sing-songs, eyebrows waggling suggestively. Spencer’s frown only deepens.

“Busy?”

JJ nods.

“Yarborough has been chomping at the bit to ask her to dinner. My guess is he’s got her cornered somewhere.”

Of fucking course.

Spencer’s out of his seat and stomping through the precinct in second, oblivious to the way his coworkers exchange curious glances as he storms off.

He finds the two of you in much the same way as before, only this time Trevor is blocking your path to the doorway, hand in the air as he moves to tuck a stray piece of your hair behind your ear.

“– C’mon, babe. Say you’ll go to dinner with me,” Trevor croons in a way that’s supposed to come off as seductive. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

You lean backwards in an attempt to evade his touch, and you barely get the chance to open your mouth when Spencer intervenes.

“She’s not interested.”

The detective whips around, snorting in annoyance when he sees Spencer standing in the doorway.

“What are you, her fucking keeper?” Trevor sneers, before turning back to face you. “Who does this guy think he is?”

Something in Spencer snaps, then – the same something that has been swelling inside him for months, threatening to spill over every time he had to pretend that the stares didn’t enrage him. He’s tired of pretending, tired of hiding, and so, so fucking tired of not putting assholes like Trevor Yarborough in their place.

Fueled by months of suppressed anger, Spencer manages to cross the room in about two seconds. He has several inches on the detective, standing at an intimidating six-foot one inch in height, so when he comes to a stop right in front of the detective, he’s looming over him threateningly.

“I’m her fucking boyfriend, and if you so much as try to touch her again, I’ll break your goddamn hand,” Spencer spits out, and he’d be lying if he said the way Trevor’s eyes widen in fear doesn’t thrill him. “Are we clear?”

“Uh, yeah. Sorry, dude,” Trevor splutters, raising his hands in surrender. “Didn’t know she was taken. My bad.”

Spencer tears his eyes away from the detective and takes in the way you’re watching on with an amused expression. He reaches out, and you’re quick to place your hand in his. Without speaking another word to the detective, Spencer leads you from the room and out the back entrance of the precinct.

“What was that?” you tease, eyes glistening mischievously underneath the street lights. “I thought we agreed that we weren’t taking things public just yet?”

Spencer crowds you against the brick wall of the building, pressing his body flush against yours. He ducks down swiftly, pulling you into a frenzied kiss. His lips drag against yours relentlessly, and all it takes is one breathy moan before he’s licking into your mouth possessively. Spencer slots his knee in between your legs, simultaneously groping at your chest with one hand as the other tangles in your hair.

When Spencer pulls away, he doesn’t go far. His lips leave a trail of wet kisses down your neck as you writhe against him, hands clinging tightly to his dress shirt. You whimper when his teeth nip at the tender spot right under your ear, and you can’t help the way your hips cant up when Spencer’s tongue brushes against reddened skin.

“I’m tired of pretending,” Spencer murmurs as his mouth continues to move against you, sucking purple bruises against your flesh. “Don’t fucking care about how it will affect the job. Tomorrow, everyone’s gonna know that you’re mine. Gonna mark every inch of you tonight – gonna fuck you until you can’t fucking walk.”

“Please,” you slur as you guide Spencer’s hand down until his fingers graze the end of your skirt. Spencer chuckles darkly against your neck when his hand brushes against the soiled lace of your panties.

“Didn’t mean I’d fuck you right here,” he laughs, prompting you to let out an impatient whine. The hand that was previously tangled in your hair slides down until it’s wrapped around your throat, and Spencer’s cock twitches eagerly in his pants when you push your throat harder into his palm. “Such a needy little slut for me. Ready and willing for me to fuck you out in the open, where anyone could walk by and see how fucking desperate you are for my cock.”

“M’ your slut,” you pant as Spencer’s middle and index fingers ghost across your center. “Only yours, Spence. I don’t care who sees, just - please fuck me!”

“I fucking own you,” Spencer growls against your lips as he tightens his hold on your throat. “And as much as I’d love to take you right against this wall, the things I have planned for you would elicit quite an audience. I know how loud you like to be.”

Spencer pushes your panties to the side and you let out a low hiss as he drags a finger across where want him most. You cry out in frustration when he removes his hand to bring it up to his mouth, tongue darting out to lick his finger clean.

“Just needed a little taste to tide me over,” Spencer murmurs, smirking devilishly at you as he steps back from you. “Let’s head back to the hotel. I’ve got lots I wanna do to you, pretty girl.”

As soon as the door to the hotel room clicks shut, clothes are flying off as the two of you make your way to the bed. It’s a mad dash as you both undress, and as soon as the last garment leaves your body, Spencer pounces on you. Your lips meet in a passionate kiss, and the way you immediately go pliant as Spencer’s mouth works against yours makes him hum appreciatively.

“Don’t feel like being nice tonight. Are you gonna let me use that pretty little pussy however I want?” Spencer inquires, though he already knows the answer. He’s known how tonight would pan out ever since the first roll of your hips against his back at the police station.

You nod fervently, hopelessly, and Spencer moves his hand up to grip your chin in his hand. The pad of his thumb traces over the swollen skin of your kiss bruised lips.

“What about this?” he asks, tapping lightly against your lip. “Are you gonna let me fuck this slutty little mouth of yours?” Spencer slips his thumb into your mouth and you immediately close your lips around the digit, suckling lightly. Your eyes never leave his.

“You’d do anything I asked you to, wouldn’t you, pet?” Spencer muses, pressing his thumb farther into your mouth until you gag around him. Spencer withdraws his thumb and his hand tugs hard on the hair at the back of your scalp. “Open.”

You oblige immediately, and Spencer spits into your waiting mouth. You swallow without being instructed, and the visual of it makes Spencer let out a low groan.

“Get on your knees,” Spencer barks out, and the way you scramble to follow his order makes him let out a chuckle. “So eager to have my cock in your mouth,” he hums as he taps his dick teasingly against your cheek. You open your mouth wide for him, and Spencer guides your mouth down onto his dick at a tantalizingly slow pace. You let out a moan as you hollow your cheeks around his head, tongue lapping greedily at the precum that gathered there before Spencer makes you take him deeper.

“Everyone thinks you’re such an innocent little thing, but here you are, letting me use you like a cheap whore while you enjoy every minute of it,” Spencer says through gritted teeth as you moan wantonly around his cock. It isn’t until he’s halfway down your throat that your eyes begin to water, mascara running down your cheeks as he fucks into your mouth.

Spencer lets out a choked sound when your nose brushes against the skin of his abdomen, and he has to fight the urge to throw his head back in pleasure. He doesn’t want to look away, not even for a moment. Not when you’re looking up at him like that, tears running down your face as you swallow around his length.

He pulls you off him just the tiniest bit before he’s forcing you back down, a string of curses falling from his lips as your head bobs up and down.

“You take my cock so well, pretty girl,” Spencer praises, prompting you to let out a muffled moan around him. The vibrations send a shock of pleasure through him and he can help the way his hips stutter. “Fuck, baby. You like it when I tell you what a perfect little whore you are, don’t you?”

You’re unable to answer, because Spencer presses down on the back of your head until you’ve taken all of him again. The pressure he puts on you doesn’t relent, not even when you gag around him.

“Fucking choke on it, slut,” Spencer grunts. “Don’t act like you don’t want this. You were just begging me to fuck you in an alley not twenty minutes ago, like some pathetic fucking tramp. You wanna act like a tramp, I’m gonna treat you like one.”

Spencer’s lips curl into a debauched grin when your hands come up and grip the backs of his thighs, pulling him closer and further down your throat.

“That’s what I fucking thought,” Spencer moans, giving several more harsh thrusts before pulling you off of him completely. Spencer reaches down to wipe at the spit that coats your lips as you look up at him with a shy smile.

“You okay, pretty girl?” Spencer asks as he caresses the side of your face.

“Mm,” you hum, nuzzling your face against his palm. “Keep going, please. Don’t hold back.”

“God, I fucking love you,” Spencer sighs happily. “Get on the bed.”

By the time Spencer fishes a tie out of his suitcase, you’re sprawled out across the bed, head resting against the pillows with your legs spread wide. Your teeth are nestled against your bottom lip as you watch him stalk towards you, eyes running up and down his naked figure appreciatively.

Spencer crawls onto the bed until he’s settled in between your legs. You present your wrists to him, just like you’ve done a million times before, and Spencer feels that familiar thrum of excitement rush through his body. He fucking lives for moments like these – moments where all his problems melt away to nothing. Moments where he has no other thought than wrecking you, thoroughly and completely.

Once your wrists are bound you hold them above you, and Spencer sits back on his heels, eyes raking up and down every inch of you.

“M’ so fucking lucky to be the only one who gets to see you like this.”

Spencer pinches your right nipple in between his fingers and you let out a squeak, hips bucking up, desperate for some friction. He kneads your breast in his hand as he lowers his mouth to the other one, tongue laving around you. A light nip from his teeth is all that it takes for you to cry out, eyelids fluttering closed.

“Spence, please. Need you to touch me now, pl-”

Spencer’s hand connecting with your cheek stops you from finishing your sentence.

“Do not tell me what to do,” Spencer seethes, once again gripping your chin to keep you from looking away. “Ungrateful slut. I should just leave you here, fucking dripping and desperate for a release that you won’t get. Maybe then you’d learn to take what’s given to you.”

“Please, no! I’ll be good, I swear. I’m sorry!”

Spencer narrows his eyes at you, contemplative.

“Open.”

You do as he says, and without another word Spencer inserts two fingers into your mouth, pressing down hard on your tongue.

“Get them nice and wet, and maybe I’ll think about using them on you.”

You do as he tells you, and by the time Spencer removes his fingers from your mouth, you’re trembling underneath him from anticipation.

“D-Did I do good?” you stutter out, batting your lashes at him as you squirm under his gaze.

“So good, baby. I think you’ve earned my fingers,” Spencer hums. “Need you to be still, okay? You’re not gonna like what happens if you try to move.”

You nod enthusiastically, eyes fluttering shut when his fingers brush across your clit. Spencer spends ample time rubbing deliciously slow circles over your sensitive bundle of nerves, relishing in every gasp and whimper that falls from your lips. Lips that he’d very much like to kiss, so he does, and you’re more than happy to reciprocate. Spencer lets out a happy sigh into your mouth.

You get lost in the kiss, so lost in the way that Spencer licks into your mouth that it catches you completely off guard when he slides two fingers into you.

“Oh, God,” you moan when Spencer curls his fingers against your walls, fucking them in and out of you, slow and unrelenting.

“S’that feel good, princess?” Spencer asks, a teasing lilt to his voice. “Tell me how it feels.”

Your head falls back against the pillows as you struggle to keep your hips firmly placed on the mattress.

“Feels amazing, Spence. Always feels so good with you. Never want anyone else, only you.”

And fuck, if that sentiment doesn’t shoot straight to his heart - amongst other places. Spencer places a tender kiss to your cheek before he’s moving down to your neck and sucking a bruise right under your jaw.

“Yeah?” Spencer prompts. “Not even that stupid fucking detective? I’m sure he’d love a chance to see you like this.”

“So, you were jealous,” you chuckle between moans, and Spencer bites down hard where your neck meets your shoulder.

“F-Fuck, Spencer!”

“Should I be jealous?” Spencer speeds up the onslaught of his fingers, scissoring them at such an unforgiving pace that you can’t help but roll your hips against them.

You regret this instantly, because Spencer’s fingers immediately pull out of you, leaving you empty and cold. Spencer tuts, shaking his head disappointedly.

“Dumb little whore can’t even sit still long enough to cum on my fingers.”

“Please, let me try again. I’ll do better, I promise!”

Spencer shakes his head and scoots up until his back is rested against the pillows.

“C’mere,” he commands. “Lay across my lap. Or can you not follow simple commands?”

“I-I can,” you whisper as you crawl across him, splaying out so that you rest on your elbows with your ass in the air.

Spencer grabs a handful of your ass and kneads it in his hands.

“How many do you think you deserve?”

You blush and smile shyly at him from over your shoulder.

“However many you want to give me. I can take it.”

Spencer returns your smile.

“Good answer. I think you can handle fifteen. How does that sound?”

“Sounds perfect. T-Thank you, Spencer,” you mumble, cheeks burning red. Spencer continues to caress the tender skin of your bare ass, admiring the way the skin is completely blank; the perfect canvas.

You let out a whimper when his hand comes down hard on your ass before kneading the sensitive, reddening skin.

“T-Thank you,” you gasp out, and Spencer is quick to follow up with another strike against the opposite cheek.

It goes on like this until it’s time for the fifteenth strike, and by then you’ve devolved into garbled whines, ass bright red and marked up with the imprint of Spencer’s hands. His dick is painfully hard underneath you, and you’re in a similar state – arousal dripping onto Spencer’s thigh, coating it.

“Last one, baby. Do you think you can handle it?”

“Y-Yes,” you choke out. “Please, I need it. Hurt me, please.”

The desperation in your voice does things to him, makes him practically feral with the need to fucking tear you apart, and Spencer is quick to deliver the final blow. You barely even have it in you to cry out anymore – a feeble sob is all that falls from your lips.

Spencer’s hand ghosts down across your bruised skin until his fingertips trace over where you drip for him.

“You like it when I punish you, don’t you, dirty girl?” Spencer hums as his fingers glide over your soaked folds.

“Y-Yes,” you mewl, shifting so that your cunt grinds back onto his hand. Spencer indulges you - allows you to rock your hips against his palm as he watches on in awe, soaking up every desperate sound that tumbles past your lips.

Spencer pulls his hand away after a moment and you keen in protest.

“Can you sit up for me, sweet girl?” Spencer asks, and you nod, because of course you do – you’d do anything if you thought it’d please him. You struggle to pull yourself up with shaky limbs, and Spencer puts a hand on your lower back to steady you. “Can you straddle my leg? Yeah, just like that.” Spencer pulls you down and places a slow kiss to your lips, one hand coming up to wipe away the tears gliding down your face. After a moment of slow, sweet kisses are shared, Spencer unties your wrists.

“I want you to ride my thigh – can you do that, princess?”

You whimper as you lower yourself down onto his leg, eyes fluttering shut as you begin to rock against the hardened muscle of his leg.

Spencer continues placing kisses on your lips, your face, your neck – worshipping every inch of skin he can reach with his mouth, all while whispering praises against you.

“So perfect for me. Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs as he grips your hips with steady hands, urging you to increase the speed of your hips. “Can’t wait to have that perfect pussy wrapped around my cock. Always so tight, yet you take it so well every time.”

“S-Spence, m’ close,” you slur, hands clinging desperately to his shoulders.

“Already? You usually last a bit longer than that, baby.”

“P-Please, Spencer, I can’t-” you whimper, tears once again pricking at the corners of your eyes at the thought of having to wait a second longer.

“Shh, baby. It’s okay, you can cum,” Spencer reassures you, and your shoulders visibly untense. “Cum for me, pretty girl.”

It takes two more rolls of your hips for you to cum on Spencer’s thigh with a cry of his name. Spencer rubs soothing circles into your hips as you ride out your high, murmuring broken thank yous as you come down.

Finally, you still, and your eyes open, pupils so dilated that your eyes look almost black in the dim light of the hotel room.

“You okay, princess?”

You give a weak nod.

“M’great,” you smile, sounding as fucked out as he’s ever heard you. You lean down and slot your mouth against his, and the kiss is slow and languid – soft and unhurried.

Spencer is the first to pull away.

“Need you to get on all fours for me,” he instructs. “Don’t think you need to put any pressure on that pretty little ass of yours right now.”

You giggle at that, before crawling off of Spencer’s lap. You assume the position, and Spencer places a pillow underneath your hips before trailing a line of kisses down your spine. By the time he reaches your ass, you’re writing against him, wiggling your hips eagerly. Spencer places a kiss to both of your bruised cheeks before pulling away.

You let out a startled oh! when Spencer licks up your center, parting you with his fingers before fucking in and out of you with his tongue.

“S-Spence, oh my God, yes!” you cry out, hands fisting in the sheets as he continues to work his mouth against your core.

“Love your fucking pussy so much,” Spencer sighs against you, lapping at your clit hungrily. “Could fucking lick you out for hours. You taste so perfect, Y/N.”

Spencer lets out a filthy groan against you, and that’s all it takes for you to fall over the edge, wrecked moans filling the otherwise silent hotel room. This orgasm hits you both quicker and harder than the first, and he can’t help but smile against you as you rock back against his face, desperate to prolong the sensation. Spencer continues to work you through your orgasm, stopping only when you cease to twitch underneath him.

“Such a good girl for me. Think you can handle one more?”

You raise up just enough that you can look at him from over your shoulder.

“Yes, please,” you beg, voice scratchy and raw. “Please, fuck me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Spencer chuckles. “Do you think you can lay on your back? I wanna see that pretty face when I make you cum on my cock.”

You answer by rolling over, wincing slightly when your ass comes in contact with the sheets. You look up at Spencer with wide, doe eyes. You have mascara smeared all down your cheeks and your lips are swollen, and to top it all off, deep, purple love bites are dusted across the entire expanse of your neck and chest. Spencer had set out to mark you as his – so that no one would be able to deny that you belonged to him – and he’d done a spectacular job, if he said so himself.

“God, you’re so fucking pretty.”

“Then come fuck me already,” you challenge, looking sated in every possible way – yet still, your eyes hold the same hunger that he’s sure is reflected in his own eyes.

Spencer leans down and traps your lips in a bruising kiss, and without warning he thrusts in you to the hilt. You cry out into the kiss, startled by the sudden intrusion, but Spencer sets a brutal pace that leaves you no time to recover.

“You said you wanted me to fuck you,” he growls against your lips. “Now fucking take it.”

He’s fucking into you so hard that you can’t even manage a reply – you just tighten your legs around his waist and drag your nails across the expanse of his back, no doubt leaving bright red marks in your wake. Spencer can feel his own release fast approaching – honestly, he’s been close ever since the first drag of his tongue against your pussy. And now that he’s finally enveloped into your tight, wet heat, that all too familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach is threatening to consume him.

Spencer’s hand descends from its place next to your head down to your clit, and your whole body jolts with the first swipe of his thumb. You clench around him as a litany of particularly filthy utterances escapes you, and Spencer’s hips stutter.

“Fuck, princess,” he groans, head coming to rest on your shoulder as he struggles to regain his rhythm. “You don’t even know what you do to me. You’ve ruined me for anyone else. Never fucking want to lose you. Love you so much.”

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” you chant into his ear, sounding like some kind of siren, luring him straight to his inevitable ruination. “I’m so close, Spence. Cum with me, please? I want to feel you. Please, baby.”

“Y-Yeah, fuck,” Spencer chokes out. “Say my name when you cum, princess. Want everyone to know how good I fuck you.”

And when you cum with a shout of his name, walls pulsating deliciously around his cock, Spencer is quick to join you. He continues to roll his hips against yours as you both ride it out, whispers of almost intelligible affirmations being shared between slow, loving kisses.

After a moment of post-orgasm bliss, Spencer leaves and returns with a bottle of cocoa butter lotion and a warm, wet rag. You watch on with heavy lidded eyes as he cleans you up, and for a moment, he thinks you’ve fallen asleep. It’s not until he finishes slathering your reddened backside with lotion that you speak again.

“You shouldn’t be jealous, by the way,” you murmur as he lays down beside you. “You’re it for me, Spencer Reid. I don’t ever want you to doubt that I’m anything less than crazy about you.”

It’s everything that Spencer’s ever wanted to hear, and just like that, every fear – every insecurity that had plagued him in the past several months – fell away to nothing. Suddenly, he couldn’t remember why he’d ever been worried in the first place.

“You’re it for me, too,” Spencer whispers as he pulls you until his arms and presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“We’re going to have a lot of explaining to do tomorrow, you know,” you remark as you nuzzle into Spencer’s side.

“Don’t care,” he sighs happily. “I’ll shout it from the roof tops if I have to. I want everyone to know you’re my girl.”

“You’re a sap, Doctor Reid.”

“Only for you.”

A moment of blissful silence passes, before the sound of your growling stomach sets you both into a fit of giggles.

“We never did get dinner, did we?” Spencer muses as he lightly runs his fingernails across your scalp. You hum appreciatively and a pleased shiver rolls through you.

“Nope. You were a little too preoccupied with marking your territory to even offer to feed me,” you tease as you run your fingertips down the planes of his chest.

“Well, now that that’s been taken care of - could I interest you in some takeout?”

“Possibly,” you sigh, flattening your palm on his chest, right over his heart. “Do you think that pizza place Trevor mentioned delivers?”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

“Is that a no?”

“... Look up the number.”

taglist: @90spumkin @moon-light-jukebox @thebookamongmen @pinkdiamond1016 @itsametaphorbriansblog @eldahae

#spencer reid smut #spencer x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds smut #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic #fanfic #dom!spencer #smut #spencer reid self insert #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid x y/n #matthew gray gubler smut #mgg smut #spencer reid x reader

6K notes · View notes

doodlestab · 2 years

Note

Omgg recently I’ve been obsessing over CQ and deep-diving into a bunch of accounts to find out more stuff about it because there’s just so many characters! The world seems so vivid and alive, with a bunch of interesting concepts that I’m rlly interested in :000

But ahh, I’m still struggling to find out exactly how it came to be and what’s the whole idea behind it and such. If you feel up to it I would absolutely hear your own explanation of it, you as the creator, but only if you can obviously <33

Oh this is a dangerous question to ask me, because I could go on and on forever. I'm gonna write everything under a read-more and come back up top if I can summarize it all in a paragraph afterwards.

Okay I came back up like 6 paragraphs in. there is no way I will be able to summarize this so if you're really interested, prepare for the read.

So the concept of CQ sprouted first when I was probably about 11 or 12. I had nothing to do, I was often sick and stuck in bed at home, all I had was time on my hands. It was all conceptual for a while, until Adventure Time came out in 2010. That really inspired me to start drawing and developing my own universe because I remember being so fascinated with such an expansive world like the Land of Ooo. I was 13 at that point, and started drawing more too, so I had a laptop, a dinky little tablet, and still tons of free time.

The concept started out like this: I love bright colors, I love tons of characters, and I love silly antics. So I'll make a bunch of bright colors into characters, and make them be silly. In my mind they were always stick people, 2D abstractions, cartoony, etc. Those characters are what I call the mimes, which are the pale white skinned, single-color oriented characters you see me post all the time. Since the idea sprouted, they've become more than just 2D cartoons and sort of just their own physical characters.

After I'd curated that concept, I went on to flesh out the world. Made some "main characters" which were really just some of my first attempts at character designs that weren't weird animal creature thingamabobs. Tim, Gary, Samantha, Hannah, and Michael were the ones I believe I made first. That's sort of why Tim especially seems soooooo... bland. The average cis white dude with a silly T shirt. But as basic of a guy as he may be, he still is my guy and I love him so much and he will never not be my guy and also never not be the face of CQ. Even if he adds almost nothing extra to the group (ability wise), he will always be in the story just to be everybody's friend.

This feels like it's getting a little over descriptive, but really the concepts of characters and world building all came together in bits and pieces over the next couple years while I actually figured out a cohesive plot. I knew what I wanted but I wasn't sure how to communicate it, so I wrote out a sort of play-type script for it. I just slapped down dialogue, threw notes in on the side to remind myself what was going on in any given scene, and just went. I rarely looked back while I wrote, and it went on to be about 700 or 800k words of pure mess.

At this point, I was in a voice acting circle with a lot of good friends. So I gave the characters voices too!!! Because it was fun to see the characters come to life and I could tell my friends had a lot of fun with them too. The voices and talking to other people about the characters really helped me flesh them out even more. So I went back and revised the script to make it easier to be acted out.

I also got into animating around that time, too. So all together I was like holy cow. It's all written out, my friends have some awesome voices, I can animate... I could make this a little web series or something!!! And that failed. Cause I was like ambitiously 15 with really flimsy writing and a poor grasp on the flow of animation.

BUT! It was still a very exciting and developmental time for CQ. A lot of characters had been created, the concept of the mimes finally got fully fleshed out. It's much more of a spectrum now because of my love of character design, but at first I'm pretty sure the original mimes were Uppsulka (Red), Foxglove (Orange), Maggie (Yellow), Twiddle Niddle (Green), Holly (Cyan), TyV (Blue), and N & O (Purple).

I made more pretty quickly but those were the ones I'd had in my heart for a couple of years at that point. This was also around the time that my thinking got very very compartmental. As in, my OCD got the better of me. There had to be an be an opposite equal to everything. Not a bad thing, but ultimately something that would just make the world a little too complex for me to handle. Each mime had to have a living counterpart, it just felt like it had to be like that. So for every living person, there was always a new mime being designed alongside it. There was also the mimes concept themselves-- they're the concept of light. So of course, now I have to have a concept of dark, too. Weird creepy shadowy creatures were almost a thing.

Those shadowy beings still actually exist lore wise, but over time I melded that concept into the past of the plot. Light beat dark, dark is no more, influx of light (mimes), efflux of dark (shadowy dudes). It was right around here that I feel like I'd solidified what I really wanted to do with CQ? I think? I mean of course I'm still developing it all even now at 25, but right around then was like. Ah! Okay. Now I have a workable story.

Light beats dark, light rains into the physical land, the people that were already living in the physical land are like wtf get out? But these beings of light are like wtf we JUST got here. And also we're like way stronger and more abstract and creepy than you so *kills you*. And thus a band of heroes has to inevitably rise and resolve this issue.

So now at this point I have like 16 or 17 mimes and living people, so thats like wow over 30 characters. Also not to mention all of the side bit characters I'd made for side plots along the way. I love an expansive world, a huge roster of characters, and diversity in design and interaction... but I really had to settle on a limit for main focus characters. I still struggle with that. I still consider all of the characters you see me draw often as main characters. Now there's just more *mainlier* characters. Or rather, they've gotten their own story and development in groups. But whatever, because this is sort of getting too far from the topic to even be justifiable x_x

Basically the story is about concepts from a different plain of existence come to the physical realm, and everybody scrambles to figure out what the fuck is going on and how to get things back to normal. I don't call it an alien invasion story but it kind of is that. Just like. An accidental invasion that they can't reverse. Woops!!!

I'm not sure how to end this ramble because I know I could still go on for ever... but I'd probably just stray too far from the original question if I did.

Oh yeah also I did have a few attempts at launching projects for CQ. The really old comic from like 2014... an attempted video game... another comic.......... I've just never been happy with how I start it off. And the preferred method for how to tell the story I want keeps changing. Right now I want to animate it. I don't know how far I'll get. But I'll keep working on CQ until I get everything I want out about it out. (...so to those still interested even now, I'm honored that you enjoy the ramblings!)

#cq #14 paragraphs 1256 words #is the length of this explanation before you click read more.#sorry im just reading back and realising how ridiculously long this is as a response #but read it anways cuz i love ppl reading about CQ i really do #OH also this is an ask thats been sitting in my inbox for a few now but i havent had the chance to sit down and actually respond until now

87 notes · View notes

buckysswinter · 2 years

Text

tolerate it- three

18+ minors dni

warnings: angst, more angst

not edited or beta'd- do not repost or translate!

(au)bucky x female!reader

word count: 779

<<previous part | next part>>

where's that man who'd throw blankets over my barbed wire?

y/n didn't go home even though she should have. all the anger within her was spilling and she felt like if she went home she wouldn't be able to let it all out. she drove to the one place she felt free, the road was all bumpy and she almost fell out of the bike twice, when she got to the building, she climbed the stairs up to the roof. seeing the city lights calmed her down, she was reminded of the first time bucky had taken her here, the smell of the crisp air as bucky showed her that if she screamed her anger out no one would mind the slightest as people barely heard her.

bucky who had shown her everything from the shows they watch together to the music they both listen to now. the pain he provided her with one sentence without him even knowing it. all the anger came back to her, all the pain she's suppressed came bubbling out. the wail she let out of her body weakened her, her knees giving up on her. y/n had never felt pain like this before, not when her first boyfriend broke up with her, not when her father left them. bucky was also there for that, when her father left y/n didn't feel anything. bucky had made her realize that it was her suppressing her feelings and it was okay for her to feel sadness, even anger. she couldn't believe the guy who she had looked up to almost her entire life destroying her to bits like this. y//n's chest heaved and she felt her body convulsing, none of it felt real. the pain left her body buzzing and her throat felt soar from all the screams she was letting out. after hours of crying and when her body had felt numb, she decided it was time to go home. only then she checked her phone, it was close to dawn and she had messages from noah and bucky. she quickly texted noah that she was alright and ignored bucky's text.

the ride home felt dreadful, her heavy eyes fighting to stay up until she rode home and heart aching heart nearly sending her body into only feeling pain. she entered the doorway not noticing bucky's shoes nor his coat hung up, as she turned around to go up the stairs she saw bucky in the living room. his smile faded as soon as he noticed her swollen eyes, concern etched on his face,

-"you ok doll," if y/n knew better she'd thought he actually cared.

-"fuck off bucky please, not tonight" her voice was strained, she had to keep herself crying in front of him.

-"why are you upset doll? your boyfriend break up with you," he said it in a chuckle as if he was mocking her sadness.

-"please bucky, let's stop this game" she swallowed the tears threatening to come up,

-"just fucking stop pretending you care about me and my life, stop pretending that you're actually my friend when you told dot that i was some lonely piece of shit. so please bucky, stop fucking playing games, stop hurting me, just stop." she was fully crying at this point, she had thought she cried her eyes out earlier she was clearly wrong. bucky's face contorted into shame, y/n just keep sobbing, her body shaking from all the anger.

-"sweets p- please i didn't mean any of that," bucky's voice had become more serious but y/n was too tired to deal with him and her feelings that she just ran up to her room and locked her door. as soon as she hit her bed she cried more, burying her face into her pillows. the muffled cried were echoing in her room and she prayed that noah nor her mother could hear or feel her pain.

how could bucky hurt her like this? bucky who she had admired for years? who she had loved for years? in her mind she still defended bucky. no matter how much bucky had hurt her, her brain still made excuses for him. her heart on the other hand felt like it was being ripped apart by its seams, her heartstrings felt like it was tugging on each other and the feeling made her physically sick to her stomach. the butterflies she felt every time she thought of bucky left a bitter taste in her tongue, she couldn't begin to explain why she felt like this. the push and pull her body was feeling was odd to her. how could she still love him after what he did to her?

taglist: @capmanranger @kaitioo @red42985 @sipsteacasually @justyourlocalwhore @minetticatinwonderland @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer @obsessionforoldermen @one-shot-plus-size @thatsbucknasty @simplefan-638 @noemiix1 @lightning-fast54 @echoingintheabyss @themorningsunshine @hotleaf-juice @adriii-omega @introvertedmouse @cjand10 @bigchoose

#sebastian stan #bucky x reader #bucky barnes one shot #sebastian stan fanfic #bucky x female reader #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan one shot #sebastian stan x you #bucky barnes #tolerate it #buckybarnes angst #bucky angst

115 notes · View notes

venicebixch · 3 years

Text

Crush part 3

trigger warnings for this one include physical fighting, verbal altercations, DV, and mentions of blood and vomiting, although those last 2 are fairly mild. mostly, just beware of the fighting and DV if that could possibly be triggering for you. other than that, enjoy :)

After finishing up my errands, we grabbed lunch then went back to the hype house. We got everything ready for everyone to come over and then hung out until people started showing up.

Now I’m about 6 shots of tequila and 2 Coronas deep. Vinnie has had probably twice as much as I have, and he’s rowdy as usual when he’s drunk. But he’s in a really good mood, making him the life of the party tonight.

I stumble off to the bathroom to pee and take a little breather. My introverted self needs these moments alone after a long day with people, plus I feel kind of sick from drinking.

Having a minute alone makes me realize how sick I actually feel. I stand at the sink and try to pull myself together but the burning sensation in my stomach won’t go away. I look down and realize my hand is stuck to someone’s used, wet tissue that was left sitting on the sink. That pushed me over the edge and I immediately feel the urge to vomit, barely making it to the toilet. I come out maybe 15 minutes later and Vinnie and Jack were in the middle of a heated conversation.

“You’re not gonna sit here and tell me that a fucking gorilla is gonna beat a bear’s ass in a fight bro,” Vinnie all but yells across the room.

I’m genuinely confused but expect nothing less from this bunch.

“Have you ever seen a gorilla up close and personal? They’re huge,” Jack fires back.

“Bruh, a bear weighs like 600 lbs and gorillas weight, what? 200, maybe 250? On weight alone bears are gonna win. Not to mention their claws, teeth, and sheer speed. Bears are fast as fuck,” Vinnie looks over at me.

“Y/n, let me ask you something. Who’s gonna win in a fight, a gorilla or a bear?” He asks.

“Uhm, bear?” I say agreeing with Vinnie.

“Boom, see?” He says, looking back at Jack.

“I’m not gonna keep arguing it. Whatever. You’re both wrong but whatever,” Jack walks out of the room, waving his hand at us.

Vinnie comes over to me. I must look sick, because as soon as he gets close to me he gets a concerned look on his face.

“Are you okay?” He asks, rubbing my back. I’m a little surprised by his touch, he usually keeps his hands to himself. I like it though, it’s comforting.

I shake my head no. “I threw up,” I say with a pouty look on my face.

“Alright, we need to get you home,” he says. He calls Jett over. Luckily he stayed sober tonight.

“Hey, can we take y/n home? She’s not feeling well.”

“Yeah, of course,” Jett says.

Vinnie walks to the fridge and grabs me a water and helps me get my shoes on before we head out to the car.

I sit in the backseat so I could lay down on the way home. I nod in and out, hearing bits and pieces of their conversation about Seattle. Every once in a while I have to sit up and take another small sip of water to keep myself from getting sick again.

“Are you okay?” Vinnie asks, looking back at me.

“Yeah,” I say, keeping my eyes open staring at the car ceiling. The world keeps spinning when I close them and the movement of the car doesn’t help.

Vinnie reaches back and grabs my hand, squeezing it gently to comfort me. “We’re almost home.” He says softly.

I sit up when we’re finally almost to my house. As Jett approaches the driveway, and I see a car sitting there with their headlights on.

“What the hell?” I say. “Who is that?” As we get closer I realize it’s Luke’s car.

“Oh my god,” I say, rubbing my forehead.

“Who’s that?” Vinnie asks.

“It’s fucking Luke,” I sigh, irritated. I don’t want to deal with Luke right now. I don’t want to deal with him ever, actually, but especially not right now.

“Why the hell is he here?” Vinnie sounds just as irritated as I am, if not more.

“I don’t know. He texted me this morning and said he wants to talk tonight. I ignored his messages, though. I don’t know why he thought it would be okay to just show up.”

“You should have blocked his number.”

“Yeah,” I agree. Maybe it’s childish of me but I purposefully left his number unblocked and specifically turned my read receipts on for him just so I can get under his skin and make him feel like shit getting left on read every day. I mean it’s literally the least I could do after what he did to me.

I grab my bag and get out of the car. Vinnie rolls his window down to monitor the conversation.

I walk toward the other car and Luke shuts it off and gets out.

“Are you seriously not ever gonna respond to me?” He says angrily. “And who the fuck are you with this late, it’s literally 1 am. I’ve been here since 8.”

“You sat here for 5 hours waiting on me to get home? I ask.

“Yeah, you’ve left me on read for 3 weeks now, it’s getting ridiculous. You’re done playing these games with me.”

“Luke, it’s not a game. You text me multiple times a day every day, I don’t know what you want to talk about,” I say.

“Don’t act like I’m the crazy one.” He laughs, shaking his head at me.

“Did it occur to you that I probably don’t want to fucking talk to you? I don’t want to fucking see you?” I ask.

“Don’t fucking cuss at me,” he grabs my arm and starts pulling me toward the house. I try to pull away but can’t get him off of me.

“Luke, let me go,” I demand. I drop my bag trying harder to get out of his grip. He’s starting to hurt my wrist now.

“No. Stop being a bitch,” he’s now forcefully dragging me toward the front door as I struggle against him. “You’re gonna talk to me, like it or not.”

“No!” I yank back as hard as I could and he turns around and grabs both of my arms shaking me hard.

“I said STOP! Come inside and talk me to god damn it!” He yells, before grabbing my wrist again.

“You’re hurting my wrist, Luke, please stop!” I grab his forearm with my other hand, depserately trying to lessen his grip. I’m starting to get really upset, having flashbacks to my last relationship. That awful feeling of not having control of the situation and being scared creeps right back in like it never even left. Tears start to form in my eyes and my heart starts racing. I feel like I could scream.

I hear a car door slam and I look behind me to see Vinnie full force storming over to us. I swear his eyes look black with rage and I can feel the vibration of his anger from 10 feet away.

“Oh, THIS fucking guy?!” Luke says loudly, laughing. He finally lets my wrist go. “Buddy, just go ho-“

Before Luke could finish his sentence Vinnie rears his arm back and slams his fist right into Luke’s jaw, knocking him backwards on to his ass. I swear I heard a crack when his fist made contact with his face. Luke looks genuinely stunned, like the wind got knocked out of him.

“Vinnie!” I yell, stepping back.

Jett gets out of the car and runs over. “Vinnie, what the fuck?” He says.

Not saying a word, Vinnie drags Luke up to the house by his shirt collar. He gets him back up to his feet by pulling his hair then forcefully slams his back against the house, causing Luke to hit his head hard against the brick wall.

Vinnie leans in, almost nose to nose with him. “So help me god, if you ever fucking touch her again I will take your head and curb stomp the teeth right out of your fucking skull, Sapranos style,” Vinnie says in an eerily calm tone. “If you have any will at all to continue to live your pathetic life, you’ll leave her alone. Permanently. Do you fucking understand me?”

Luke glances over at me. He looks genuinely scared now. Vinnie grabs his face and turns it back toward him. “Don’t you fucking look at her, look at me. I said ‘do you understand me?’”

Luke stares at him, silently, his mouth parted slightly. Vinnie moves his left hand up to his neck, choking him and brings his right fist up, punching him directly in his nose. Blood starts pouring down his face, and Luke’s eyes shut and he goes limp. Vinnie knocked him out. He shakes his head, holding Luke up by his shirt collar, waiting for him to regain consciousness. Just a few moments later, he comes back around and Vinnie starts right back up again.

“I thought you were tough, huh? You act tough when it comes to grabbing her. Bullying and harassing her. Using her. Now you’re face to face with someone who can kick your ass and fight back, and you wanna act all scared?” Vinnie laughs sarcastically.

“Vinnie, please stop it! You’re gonna seriously hurt him!” I beg. I’m full on crying now. I’m less concerned about Luke’s well-being and far more worried about Vinnie ending up in prison on a felonious assault charge.

“Vinnie, enough! Let him go,” Jett says sternly, grabbing his arm.

“Nah, not until he fucking acknowledges what I’m telling him,” he doesn’t break eye contact with Luke.

“Al-alright,” Luke finally stutters out.

“Alright what?” Vinnie eggs him on.

“I’ll leave her alone. She’ll never hear from me again,” Luke says, closing his eyes. He starts crying.

Vinnie finally lets him go. “Fucking leave while you still have the chance.”

Luke stumbles back over to his car, leaving a trail of blood drops behind him. He desperately searches for his car key and gets in, driving off.

“What a pussy bitch,” Vinnie says, laughing out of anger.

#vinniehackerfanfic #vinnie fanfic #vinnie hacker #vinnie imagines #vinnie hacker smut #vinnie x reader #vincent hacker #fanfic #Vinnie #vinnie angst

105 notes · View notes

writingonesdreams · 2 years

Text

What I learned from“A Little Life”

This books felt traumatizing and life changing. It’s hard for me to describe what I’m feeling, because after the onslaught of suffering and feels I just feel numb after finishing.

The writing is unique. It’s filled with long sentences and descriptions of places in incredible detail and vivid metaphors. Marvelous how much you can explain a feeling through metaphors. It felt more engaging and understandable and horrific to imagine the metaphors as feelings instead of figuring out what the bodily sensations were supposed to mean.

The long sentences help with the feel like you are inside the character’s thoughts. As they come, long, illogical, associative. It felt incredibly immersive and it makes the book powerful for it. It’s almost impossible to put down, once you get charmed, and I kept coming back to it, despite knowing it would only get painful and frustrating as it went.

The honesty of those thoughts. I believed this was a deep true insight into someone’s head, because the thoughts were at times very difficult, dark, selfish, unfair, honest. Or about people being honest about not being honest and how they felt and achieved their hidden honesty. Mindboggling.

The structure and choice of pov really hightlights how much can be done through literary means to tell the story you want to tell. How much you can use storytelling devices to strenghten and express what you want. The structure was so untypical, so misleading on purpose, it was excellent and changes how I see structure in books. Beginning, middle, end, what characters you introduce, what you zoom in, what you promise and who you actually deliver being played with, subversed, turned on its head. Totally different than the schemas most writing advice teaches. It really is for beginners I guess. Masters know how to break it to their advantage.

Setting. Pov. Voice. Tense. Form. Prose. Flashbacks. Chronology. Everything was so different, breaking rules, jumping around, being unpredictable but then coming together for a united whole.

I have been attracted to this book for its promise of close male friendships and pain that would get comfort. The book delivers and exceeds any limit, throws itself into tragedy and meaninglessness agony and living with it, but the author had very clear messages and themes in mind. She knew what she wanted to say. I realize now my frustration comes with disagreeing with lots of it. But that’s what books, are right? Not here to tell the one and only universal truth, but to explain and argue a point of view. An opinion. An option for living and seeing life. I understand and felt the argument and I still choose to disagree and that’s all right and good.

But it was incredibly insightful. There are wisdoms about human life, one so deep it gave me a puzzle piece I longed for for a very long time.

This book changed how I view pain. Not just a plot device, not just a moment in character life or point in their arc, but as state. Pain can be a state of being, physical, mental and emotional, social and personal, past and present. Pain doesn’t have to be just a singular occaurnce, something to get rid of, it can be chronic, long lasting, spiralling, a way and part of life.

The statement I guess that’s about radical and a bit hard to live with and I’m not sure what to think about. That some things will stay broken. That a person you love can be sick and never get better. And you can give them all the love and care and effort you have and more and it might not be enough and if doesn’t have anything to do with you. Some things just can’t be fixed.

The bonds of friendship. I liked how it got celebrated and centered on, even if I felt a bit betrayed they made Willem and Jude have a romantic relationship in the end after all. But it was an interesting study of the difference and transformation from friendship to romance. What changes, when you have already been close and known each other for decades? What changes from one kind of love to another? Expectations from the outside? That people can’t justify the time and effort you spend on friendships and need labels like romantic partners and family?

It was beautiful though, how the characters made thier own rules. How the four core friends never had kids and most didn’t marry, being sustained emotionally by their friendships. That friendship can be that close and nutricious and life-defining.

The theme of how no person can give you everything. How hard, embarrassing and stressful it can be to get close to someone, so who is worth such an effort? Being with others is in some ways do much harder than being alone. Why do we do it? What do we look for in others that we can’t find in ourselves? What do we give them? How do we find people who appreciate the best of what we give, give what we need back and we all value the same things enough to stay together and look for the mixing pieces somewhere else?

What I didn’t like about the opinions of this book was that comfort and deep affection only came with great pain. As if only horrendous suffering justified men in crying, needing touch and comfort and allowing themselves to get any.

Other thing I was confused about was what Jude and Willem changed about their relationship, when it went from friendly to romantic. In a way the narrative defined deficencies of friendship, while preaching about its uniqueness and importance. So men are not allowed to touch and be that comfortable and physically intimate with each other, not allowed to randomly hug or sleep beside each other or snuggle, when it’s not with their romantic partner? I thought the shift would be mainly sexual, and that aspect gets thematized (and is hard and troublesome for Jude’s trauma about it and his unwilligness to disclose his suffering about it to Willem to not lose him to percieved societal obligations). I don’t know what exactly it is that I’m looking for, but I found it lacking in this story, despite its focus on friendship.

I don’t get where the characters got so much time from. They managed to work overtime, cook too much, play instruments, meet friends, have fancy dinners and meetings, visit threathers and art, travel, have introspective debates about life, watch movies, drive long and slow, swim in the morning for two hours, regulalry visit doctors, work through the weekend, buy several apartments, reconstruct them and then build a whole new house…like what? That’s not humanly possible to achieve. I’m either that bad at time management, or the characters had way too much energy or the author didn’t really check how much hours a day has.

All in all, this was a powerful book and I can see why it’s called a modern day classic, why it won awards, why it is so popular. I don’t regret reading. I don’t think I would do it again though. I want to read more famous and awarded books, want to observe masters at the craft of writing, but I don’t want it to be tragic and hopeless like these. Why do so many classics end tragically? Is there nothing deep about life than suffering and bathing in its pointlessness?

#writeblr #bookblr #writeblr community #writing advice #friendship #male friendship #a little life #spoilers #very minor ones #learning from stories #dreamywritesstuff

35 notes · View notes

leviiattacks · 3 years

Note

Lmao Levi being irritated because reader, his roomate, who he still hasn't confessed to yet, gets a cat.

The cat hates Levi but loves reader and reader loves the cat too and it's basically Levi vs the cat someone help

note :: very rushed and not proofread i only wrote for fun because once again i am bed ridden with sickness ha ha the perks of always being sick i suppose T__T

lord, does levi despise the way you act without thinking sometimes

he’s legitimately appalled at how you can manage to always do shit like this

even more appalled at how he lets you get away with it every time

now, what is the shit you have done this time?

brought a cat home a CAT

first things first, you are allergic to cats so he does not understand how that predicament will fix itself

secondly, cats shed EVERYWHERE

as much as he enjoys cleaning he is not going to clean that up every day

thirdly, cats will ruin furniture and claw at it

as well as the curtains!!!!

and levi loves the curtains in the living room because the both of you picked them out together

though it was a struggle to get you interested enough to pick a pair you liked.

maybe that’s why he’s looking at you irked by this all

you’re holding the kitten in your arms playing around with her

“peek... a... boo!”

playing fucking peek-a-boo with a cat? he questions himself in his head

“y/n. we are not keeping the cat.”

at this you innocently look up at him through your lashes

god, there you go again doing that

he doesn’t know if you’re aware of the impact you have on him when you do that

he’s good at holding his composure but that look ignites something in him

but he always has to push that something down his throat

“c’mon, you’d be the best roomie ever if you let me keep her!”

his eyes narrow at the word roomie

is that all he is to you?? a roomie???

you’re holding the cat up alongside your face and are fake pouting

“you. are. allergic. to. cats.” he punctuates every word clearly

“how do you know that?” you ask reasonably shocked he knows something that obscure and random about you

“you like talking about yourself when you’re drunk.”

a memory of him helping you throw up whilst he carefully holds your hair out of your face flashes past

if it were anyone else he wouldn’t have got anywhere near them if they were throwing up

but it was you,

it was always you.

“you rambled on and on and on about wanting a cat as a kid but not getting one because of your allergies.”

“so you would also know-” the cat tries to scratch your arm and you retract giggling

“that i really want a cat!”

“does that change your allergies? poof oh wow y/n you’re no longer allergic to shitty cats because you want one.”

you roll your eyes at his deadpan expression and pessimism

“if you knew anything about cats you would know this is a cornish rex” you now rebuttal

“a fucking what?”

“hypoallergenic cat breed! my allergies to cats are mild so it’s the perfect cat for me”

the crease between his eyebrow deepens.

“do you forget that we live in this apartment together?”

you scrunch your nose looking at your little buddy who has now settled in your lap “how could i forget that?”

he knows you see him as nothing more than a roommate

levi loves you he does but you don’t know that

but part of him thinks you do because you always give him that look when you want something

you’re doing it again.

the look.

“fuck. fine but if that thing coughs up a hair ball she’s out.”

“AAAHH THANK YOU I LOVE YOU LEVI!!!!” you’re ecstatic

his breath traps itself in his throat when he hears that

how can you carelessly say i love you??

you’re happily looking between him and the cat and hand her over to levi

“hold her you’re the dad”

“so you’re the...?” he asks

“i’m the...???” you’re clueless

he shakes his head waving it off

it takes you a moment to understand what he’s asking then your eyes widen

“ohhh the mum? yeah that would be me”

it’s so stupid, so stupid, so so so stupid he repeats it in his head the whole scenario is stupid

but it doesn't stop him from smiling like an idiot

in recent days you’ve given her the names diana, garfield and casper

sadly, none of then seem to stick because you’re too indecisive

it’s got to the point where you barge into levi’s room without asking

you’re in your pyjamas he looks at you confused as to why you’ve walked in with no permission at 2am

in a cucumber face mask...?

“name the cat please, name the cat i can’t stick to a name i’m going to rip my hair out“ you’re gripping at your hair groaning in frustration.

“edgar’

first suggestion, too ugly.

you shake your head

“candy“

second suggestion, no, just no.

you shake your head again in refusal

“zero?“

yeah, no.

another shake of the head

levi ponders and thinks hard “...angel?’

you blush, jump back and look more than startled

fumbling with your fingers awkwardly you edge closer towards the door

he just eyes you weirdly wondering what causes that reaction

well, you must like the name

“is it good enough?” he asks

you’re speechless not knowing what to actually say

“y/n...????”

you snap out of it

“isn’t that something you’d call a significant other not a cat?”

and for once in your life you actually seem kinda annoyed at him

“your cat is an angel in your eyes that’s the point” he’s explaining his point but you aren’t listening

you don’t know why levi saying that word makes your heart race

that’s why you’re annoyed right now

in fact it’s not that you’re annoyed. you’re scared that it triggers this response because this is levi.

levi, your roommate the same roommate who argues about pizza toppings with you. he’s nothing more than that.

but your cheeks continue to flush behind the cucumber face mask

“i’ll ask someone else what to name him just call him salad for now” without letting him get a word in you leave but somehow you forget the cat

salad turns to levi and gives him what can only be described as a menacing look.

“you happy you annoying shit? y/n’s annoyed because i can’t name you”

your cat jumps at him and tries to scratch at a piece of flesh but is held off easily

one cold look from levi and she stops.

“get out my room you pest.” he says as he places the cat on the floor

salad scurries away and levi rolls his eyes

he hates that cat he really does

a few hours pass levi is still up he’s always found it hard to sleep

it’s been a long day he’s just finished a thesis for his physics degree and stretches out contently

to say he’s tired is an understatement but his throat is dry and he needs to DESPERATELY hydrate

he gets to his feet and ventures into the kitchen to retrieve some water then he’ll knock out like a log and fall asleep.

the pitch of your snoring can be heard and he smiles to himself silently.

it’s all good, he’s sure you’re getting all the sleep you need.

“GRRRE”

there it is,

the little fucker, your cat is still up.

“what is it little shit?” levi asks leaned up against the surface of the counter.

salad is only staring at him blankly before turning to look over at the living room.

it’s dim the lights are switched off but levi feels something is feels off

“the hell did you do?” he asks

but salad shows no signs of breaking and revealing what it is she’s done

levi’s going to have to investigate

stepping towards the living room he flicks the lights open.

eyes survey the entire area everything looks good until he sees the way the drapes have been ripped apart

salad is picked up in one swoop she sees how levi is about to throw her out the front door and panics

meowing and struggling just in the nick of time she jumps before running away and slipping into the safety of your bedroom

groaning levi goes back to the living room to see if he’s missed anything.

well, god damn him.

scratches litter the leather furniture, it almost looks like a crossword.

salad has also conveniently taken a shit behind the sofa,

and to top it all off she’s left a dead mouse in the middle of the living room floor

levi. is. infuriated.

“you should thank her for catching the mouse”

you’re hurriedly eating some toast levi has made for you as you brush your hair out and gather it into a low ponytail

“look at the drapes y/n??” he’s exasperated and trying to make sense of your logic

“i didn’t like the drapes anyway we needed new ones.”

you aren’t taking this seriously at all and it’s getting on his nerves now

he runs a hand through his hair and glares at you “i told you taking the cat in was a bad idea”

your hair tie snaps and so do you

all the doubts from yesterday are eating you away. the question still lingers in your mind - how do you really feel about levi?

“do you have to have an opinion on everything i do? you’re my roommate not my boyfriend.”

it’s your fault for letting your anger and stress get the better of you. to be frank you have no clue why you’ve gone and said that.

if you’re honest with yourself you know he’s not a roommate. he’s not a friend either but at the same time he’s definitely not a boyfriend.

he’s more than a friend to you but you don’t think he sees you similarly.

oh how wrong you are

“roommate?”

levi’s question is filled with not an ounce of humour, the both of you know that.

oddly, he sounds displeased,

but you can’t take it back now.

and you hate backing down

“what?” you scoff

he shakes his head and makes his way to the front door not turning to look at you.

“get a grip on that cat otherwise i’m throwing it out”

SLAM!

you’ve done it, you’ve messed it up.

salad jumps up on the counter and licks your toast

maybe, he is right about the cat.

the rest of the week is incredibly busy you have an important economics presentation due today and you’ve done everything you need to prepare for it.

at least that’s what you think,

you’re stood in front of the class introducing yourself and everything seems to be going smoothly

price determination within the economic market might as well be advertised as a sleeping pill because you don’t know how you can get anyone interested enough to keep their eyes open.

but putting your best foot forward an attempt is still made.

“the buyers and sellers accept this price, and buy and sell accordin-”

you’re abruptly cut off by your professor who coughs and then proceeds to leer at you in disgust.

a few moments of silence pass and you can feel your heart hammer in your chest.

suddenly he points at the door,

he’s known for being harsh, strict and a stingy marker but it’s not as if you’ve shown up with nothing done...?

in fact this is the largest amount of effort you’ve put into your economics course since you’ve started it.

being in your usual seasonal slump has held you back but now you’re actually trying he’s saying it’s not good enough?

“your presentation. it’s awful. not enough effort put into it, leave for today.” his voice is rumbling and intimidating.

you’re stunned, you’ve worked tirelessly day and night to finish this off.

you’ve even had to cry over not knowing or understanding how to make pie charts.

interpreting data has never been your strong suit.

too embarrassed to ask for help you had to spend hours figuring out how to make it all work alongside your excel chart and spreadsheet

sighing heavily you speak up “professor i’ve spent a lot of time on this?”

“i looked through the slides. dog shit.” his response is fiery and you shudder at the boiling frustration he’s shooting right at you.

arguing in front of the lecture hall is not what you wish to do and you’re sure you aren’t going to be the only person sent out this way.

just retreat y/n

you do.

the professor is clearly in a bad mood and taking it out on you, there’s nothing you can do about it.

wordlessly you gather your belongings and leave.

as you trudge back home the feeling of not being good enough sinks in your stomach like a heavy anchor at sea.

entering through the front door is a task and a half through your glossed over eyes but somehow you manage

you’ve kept salad in your room for most of the time after your argument and she seems to actually miss levi’s presence.

so when the first thing you see as soon as you enter is salad clawing at his bedroom door begging to be let in you aren’t surprised.

thankfully for you he’s yet to return from class and hasn’t been disturbed by the sounds.

at least that’s what you assume.

you look at salad and start sobbing

you wish you were a cat.

cats don’t get shit on for fucking up economics presentations that’s for sure.

shaking you try to hold yourself up against one of the walls

frankly, school stress is getting to you.

you tried hard on that presentation only for it to fail when it was worth a quarter of your grade.

A QUARTER...

TWENTY FIVE PERCENT...

salad nuzzles herself against your leg and you lean over to pick her up

she licks at your ear, it tickles and you laugh in between sobs

“you sure are good at comforting people huh?” you’re so worn out your laugh sounds half dead.

it’s all so pathetic. you standing in your living room wailing as you hold your pet cat like a baby.

but she doesn’t mind and let’s you cry to your hearts content.

“MEOW” salad loudly squeaks and you stroke her back but she only keeps at it “MEOWWWW.”

sensing that she’s bringing something to your attention you turn around

there stands levi awkwardly waving at you and you instinctually cover your face with your arm.

the smudged mascara is none of his business.

“wanna order pizza and talk about it?”

pursing your lips at the proposition you slowly lower your arm and scratch at the sleeve of your shirt.

"yeah, i’d love that.”

“KICKED YOU OUT THE LECTURE HALL?? YOU WORKED ON THAT FOR DAYS Y/N, DAYS??”

levi is beyond pissed he hasn’t even touched the second slice of his pizza after hearing how your presentation played out.

“it’s okay, it was probably going to go bad i can’t do anything right.”

levi’s silver eyes fog up in annoyance and you shut yourself up.

“you are the most able person i have met.”

head rocking up in surprise the confession is news to you.

“really?“

“you’re great at making pad thai, somehow you convinced me to keep that cat, i remember that other time you convinced a first year to bungee jump off a building for last years charity fundraiser.”

it truly is endearing how he doesn’t call you smart or witty or hard-working. none of that basic nonsense you’ve heard time and time again from everyone else.

the fact he’s naming the most random things makes your heart swell.

you burst into laughter remembering the first year’s quivering form and you wonder why levi even remembers that.

“if salad bothers you that much i could find a friend to look after her.”

levi looks at you like he’s just come face to face with a ghost.

“no? i like her, she might frustrate me and get in the way when i want to-” he stops himself fumbling over his sentence.

“when you want to?“ you’re leaning in closer intrigued what the rest of the sentence is.

shock flashes over his face but the next second it disappears.

taking a gulp of his water seemingly in preparation he looks you right in the eye.

“when i want to kiss you.”

and that’s all it takes for you to tug him by the shirt and slam his lips against yours, you giggle into the kiss as you situate yourself in his lap. hands ghosting over your hips he’s disoriented not sure where to place his palms but you don’t care. you’ve been waiting for this and despite his sloppy response the fact you’re finally doing what you’ve been fearing the most these past few weeks is only filling you with adrenaline.

“settle down.” he’s panting heavy and ragged. “i was meant to initiate it and look cool what the fuck??” he’s not mad, he’s just playing with you but that doesn’t stop you from getting into the role.

“and if i don’t settle?” you mischievously ask, levi’s hands are cupping your jaw he pushes your hair out of your face and simply gazes in awe.

he makes you feel so beautiful, it’s unreal.

“meow...” salad’s dissatisfied whining can be heard and then out of nowhere in one fluid motion she jumps onto levi’s chest.

“salad if you don’t mind i’m trying to make out with your dad.” you explain with a frown.

she doesn’t budge and instead a trickling sound can be heard, then a foul smell floats into the room and levi screams.

“Y/N THE LITTLE SHIT IS PEEING ON ME???”

#levi #levi ackerman #aot #snk #levi x reader #levi x y/n #attack on titan #levi fluff #leviiattacks #modern levi #college levi #levi scenario #levi headcanons #levi fanfiction #aot fanfiction #attack on titan levi #attack on titan x reader

541 notes · View notes

tsunderedoctor · 3 years

Note

howdy purple burple :] hope you're doing well today

I was wondering if i could get some fluffy, as in overwhelmingly, drowning in fluff, for Ace, Marco, and Luffy :)

(just for a little comfort ask, i'm feeling a smidge down at the moment)

take care, purple :D

I'm so sorry you are feeling down!! Please remember, you are so lovely and amazing, if no has told you recently, I love you and want you around!! 💖💖💖 (also Purple Burple is so cute omg, I love it-!!) Reader is gender neutral

Babes Below~!

Portgas D. Ace

Ace is an affirmation lover! This means he loves to compliment you and express his love for you in his words! He doesn’t mind showing it in other ways if you prefer, but he will find himself thinking out loud about how much he loves you and is happy to have you in his life.

When it comes to showing his physical love, he likes to cuddle the most. Whether it be late afternoons when you two want to nap or even at midnight when you had a nightmare. He doesn’t mind, he enjoys the feeling of your body close to his.

Speaking of bodies! He is a portable heater due to his Devil Fruit, so if you don’t like the heat, too bad! If you prefer the heat however, than you’re in luck!

Loves when you call him a good boy!! He got a lot of hate as a kid for being the Pirate King’s son, so hearing you praise him makes the man forget about all the negative names he had growing up.

Marco the Phoenix

Now as for Marco, he enjoys spending time with you! He doesn’t mind physical affection or expressing how he feels, but the best time for him is when you two can do something together!

When cuddles are initiated, he’s the type who likes for you to lean against him as he has his arm wrapped around your body, a hand rubbing your back softly while he reads. Totally doesn’t mind if you fall asleep on him either! He finds it cute and will watch you out of the corner of his eye!

If you happen to get sick, you now have a personal doctor at your beck and call! Despite his calm nature and smile, he really is worried about you and will make sure you rest and get the right nutrients in your body to fight the disease!

Will take you flying if you ask him! Since his flames are a bit different (i.e they don’t burn/hurt), you can be safe holding on to his neck as he turns into his hybrid form. Likes to hear you gush about the view from above if you are not a flier/tall being, it also gives you a glimpse of the world he sees, almost as if it’s some metaphor of him letting you in his world!

Monkey D. Luffy

Luffy is a physical lover! He prefers hugs the most out of any of the touches! Though kisses are okay too! Will happily wrap his arms multiple times around your body as he laughs, telling you how comfy you are to him!

He might not like to share his food, but for you, he will try! Offers you a bite of his favorite meat if you like meat! Actually it be super funny/cute if you didn’t, he just has this confused/lost look on his face as he contemplates life-

If anyone bad mouths you, do know Luffy has your back! He doesn’t like when people mock those he cares about, and that means you too! A good punch in the face with his rubber fist will teach them a lesson! After that, he will turn to you with a smile asking what the plans of the day are.

Sleeping with Luffy is tough! He tosses and turns a lot! He also sleep talks and sometimes sleep fights? He means well, but will have no idea he accidently kicked you in his sleep as he snores next to you. You could try tying him up, but due to his Devil Fruit, he will somehow find a way to get out of it-

Tag List: @angeltani @admiral-hiba @luxiditea @macdonaldsmanager @onepieceya @undercoverweeeb @my-one-piece-experience @simping-master-69 @lukasismissing @xxtoothachexx @fire-fist-ann @sanjithesimp @1-800-cherri @secretsnailor @rivvd-art @athenaportgas @kodi-bear and anyone else who wants to join in!

132 notes · View notes

quindolyn · 3 years

Text

Kisses Hello, Kisses Goodbye and All of the Kisses In Between || Remus Lupin

Word Count: 1458

Notes: I’m working on your requests I swear I just don’t know if I will be able to write a lot this weekend so you get this tiny blurb to hopefully tide you over. If it’s any consolation what so ever, it physically pained me to write this, but now I’m also riding a high that will sustain me for an indefinite amount of time so expect more angst in the future.

Warnings: angst, kisses, jily death mentions, sirius death mentions, sickeningly canon

Masterlist

When Remus and you started dating you always greeted each other with kisses, a kiss on the lips, a kiss on the forehead, a kiss on the nose, a kiss on the knuckles. In private, your kisses delved beneath clothes, tracing his scars with your lips, leaving kisses on the insides of each other's thighs, along the curves of each other’s spines.

During your time at Hogwarts, you’d come down from his dormitory where’d you fallen asleep in his arms but awoken mere hours later to an otherwise empty bed. Finding him half asleep on one of the couches in the Gryffindor Common Room, curled up with his History of Magic textbook in his hands. You’d wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple, murmuring a gentle plea for him to return to bed in his ear.

Both during and after Hogwarts Remus would never leave for a full moon without giving you a kiss, in case it was, Godric forbid, the last time he’d get to. And when you saw him in the morning, even if he wasn’t awake yet you’d press kisses to his lips, dusting the entirety of the canvas of his face with feather-light kisses, along his lashes, against his cheekbones, up and down the bridge of his nose.

Kissing him “Hello” again when he finally pried his eyes open, blinking as he lazily opened his eyes, wincing as the harsh sunlight of the morning coming through the windows flooded his irises.

Kisses goodnight, wrapped in each other’s arms, legs intertwined with your head pressed against his chest, listening to the rhythmic beat of his heart while he found comfort in the crown of your head.

“It’s been too long kisses”, tender without diluting any of the passion the both of you poured into them, reuniting on Platform 9 ¾ after spending the summer apart from each other, willing every second to pass more quickly so you could see your Remmy again, and he you.

Celebratory kisses, colliding in the hallway after finishing your OWLs and then eventually your NEWTs. Him taking you in his arms and lifting you off the ground, twirling you in a circle before setting you down on the floor and brushing the hair out of your face to press a kiss to your widow’s peak.

“Please don’t die kisses” before either of you left for a mission for the order, willing whatever divine powers that may be that your lover would make it back to you safe and sound, that you would see each other again. That this wasn’t the end.

Kisses to tell the other that you loved them, even before the two of you said the words aloud because you were too young. Too scared.

“I can’t believe you’re mine” kisses at the end of the ceremony of your wedding, in the car on the way to the reception, during your first dance, all night long at the hotel suite the two of you decided on. And of course, all throughout your week-long honeymoon, splayed across the warm sand of the beaches of Bora Bora.

“I’m scared kisses” the night before the two of you graduated from Hogwarts as you climbed into his arms where he laid on the velvet furniture of the common room. When the Ministry passed increasingly restrictive laws against werewolves. When James and Lily were murdered. Then Peter. And you learned that it had been Sirius responsible for the whole thing.

Padfoot.

It couldn’t have been.

When you couldn’t get your hands on Harry, and instead he was forced to live with his dreadful aunt and uncle.

You and Remus had shared many kisses throughout your relationship. He was the love of your life, and you his. Kissing became second nature for the two of you, when words were simultaneously too much and too little, when no other actions spoke as loudly you had your kisses to communicate with each other. Though you often revisited your first kiss, you never actually thought you’d ever share your last.

It had been months of sly glances and brushing your fingers together as they rested on the table in the Great Hall or the library. Months of James and Sirius making not so subtle jokes at the both of your’s expense, of losing your train of thought as he would walk by you. Of him, Remus Lupin, star student, getting called out in class for staring at you instead of paying attention to the lecture. Months of this before you finally got sick of it and stormed up to him in the corridor, taking his face in your hands, pulling it down as you balanced on the tips of your toes to kiss him. What started off as a gentle but sure peck, morphed into a passionate embrace between the two of you as one of his hands found itself on the back of your head, threading his fingers in your hair and the other slung around your waist pulling you close to his body so that there wasn’t a centimeter of space between the two of you.

He didn’t allow you to pull back far as you gasped for breath, instead, resting his forehead against yours as the corridor erupted into cheers from your fellow students led by none other than James Potter and Sirius Black.

You wondered what 15 year old you and Remus would have to say about where you were now.

The date was May 2nd, 1998, James, Sirius, and Lilly all dead. Peter a traitor, so much life having been lived between of you as one came to an end. A battle was raging around you as you sat crouched in an alcove, tucked away in one of the turrets of the castle, hidden from the madness of the violence just feet from you. Spells flying to and fro, only hitting their intended targets half the time, pieces of the historic castle crumbling and crushing soldiers on both sides of the fight.

You didn’t care less about what was happening around you, how could you when Remus was lying in front of you, bleeding profusely from his abdomen. You reached out to try to stop the bleeding, pressing your hands to which chest and stomach but the blood seemed to be coming from everywhere and the feeling of your lover’s blood in between your fingers had you about ready to vomit.

“Remus, Remus please stay with me!” You pleaded, tears pricking your waterline, “Remmy please, you can’t leave me, you can’t you can’t you can’t.” You blubbered as the tears started to flow freely down your flushed cheeks, leaving wet trails in their wake.

“Hey, hey,” You heard from beneath your quivering form, your husband’s clammy, shaking hand reached out to grasp your forearm, smearing blood along your skin, damp with sweat. “M’okay darling I promise, s’all gonna be okay.” As he spoke his words slowed and began to slur together, his eyes slinking closed as a hazed look began to overtake them. “You’re gonna be okay, you’re gonna be okay.”

“Please don’t leave me,” You whimpered, leaning down so your faces were mere centimeters from each other, “I love you so much Rem, I love you too much.” You declared kissing his forehead.

“I love you too baby,” He smiled lazily.

In your desperation you pressed chaste, rushed kisses to his lips which tasted distantly of blood, listening to his breathing get slower and slower. Almost as if he was about to fall into a peaceful sleep.

Refusing to accept the imminent and obvious death of Remus Lupin, you prolonged your kisses, fusing your lips together and kissing him as though you could pour the life back into him. As though your kisses could counteract the blood gushing from his abdomen, whispering gentle “I love you”’s between them before stopping, not wanting Remus to waste his energy in saying it back every time.

You knew he loved you. He’d proved he loved you. All he had to do now was stay alive.

Remus pushed you back, murmuring to you, “Goodbye for now my angel, I’ll see you again soon,” As his eyes shut, his grip on your forearm going limp.

“No!” You screamed in agony, pulling Remus’ now lifeless form to press against your person, your clothes seeped in his blood, your lips dusting across his, taking all the warmth they had left with you, as a reminder that Remus Lupin had lived.

He’d fought, he’d cried, he’d laughed, he’d sung, he’d danced, he’d loved and been loved, he’d celebrated, he’d mourned, he’d persevered and overcome, he’d taught and learned.

He’d kissed.

You never thought you’d kiss Remus Lupin for the last time.

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts

#harry potter angst #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter fanfic #marauders angst #marauders fanfic #marauders fanfiction #marauders #the marauders #marauders x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #remus lupin angst #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fanfic

421 notes · View notes

sierraraeck · 3 years

Text

Control

JJ x John B

Masterlist

Summary: JJ likes losing control, and there is no one safer he can do that with than his boyfriend, John B. But after a particularly awful week, JJ just needs something he can be in control of.

Category: Smut, angst

Warnings: Cussing/slurs, JJ’s home life so abuse and violence, allusion to sexual abuse, rough sex, choking, safe word used. Look, this gets dark, so this is your warning.

Word Count: 3.4K

A/N: I agree with a lot of other people that in their relationship, John B is usually the dominant one because JJ likes losing control, but I’m convinced that after a really fucking bad week, he just loses it and needs something he can control. This is what I imagine that would look like.

•••

It had been a bad week. It felt never ending, getting roughed up by the Kooks, running from the cops, taking the fall for Pope, and now this.

If you keep going down this road, you’re going to end up just like your dad.

Maybe his best friend, and within the last year or so his boyfriend, was right. Maybe he, and everyone else on the island who constantly reminded him of his blood, was right. Maybe he was destined to be a complete fuck up with no future other than three cement walls and a grid of bars. Not like JJ’d ever imagined his life going any differently.

We’re sick of your shit.

Those were the words echoing in his head as his feet made the decision before his mind did.

You are a worthless piece of shit.

He remembered something Pope had told him once, that the brain can’t differentiate between the truth and something that has been repeated to you over and over.

You’ll be back here one day. You good for nothing piece of shit, that’s why your mamma left. Stay down, boy. I don’t care where you’ve been. Really living up to your name, Maybank. You’re just like your daddy. Fucking bastard. Worthless.

Must be true, right? If everyone is saying it, including the only people he’s ever really thought cared about him, it must be true.

As he opened the door to the run down shack, he already knew what he’d see, but a shutter of fear still raced down his spine. His dad was sitting on the couch, all kinds of beer and pill bottles scattered around him.

“What the hell you doing back here, boy?” the gruff voice of JJ’s nightmares asked.

“Dad, I-”

“The least your worthless ass could do is get me a beer.”

JJ complied, because, what else was he going to do? Weak.

As he walked over to his dad, the smell of beer was overwhelming. It always was, but the smell seemed stronger than he remembered. His dad's tolerance must be higher than it was a few weeks ago.

“Open it,” Luke demanded.

JJ tried, he really did, but his hands were shaking too damn much. Come on, don’t be such a pussy.

Apparently he couldn’t do it fast enough, so Luke ripped the bottle out of his hands, causing it to shatter on the floor. JJ flinched at the sound.

“What are you, retarded? Can’t even open one goddamned bottle!”

JJ didn’t even try to duck. He felt Luke’s knuckle make contact with his cheekbone, head whipping to the side. We’re sick of your shit, JJ.

“Dad-”

“Don’t fucking beg you weak, worthless piece of shit!”

Flames enveloped his gut, followed by another fire lit over his ribs. We don’t want you around.

The voice he was hearing sounded an awful lot like John B’s.

“Fucking pathetic! Just like your mother!” JJ was on the floor now, not completely able to remember how he got there. As his body screamed in pain with each new kick, his mind was getting farther and farther away from where he was.

Our lives would be better without you in it. I would be so much happier if I had a boyfriend who wasn’t such a burden, such a fuck up. Someone without so many fucking issues.

He could feel the blood dripping down his face and leg, but refused to make himself consciously aware of it.

This is what you deserve, JJ.

This is what you deserve.

•••

Twenty-eight hours. That’s how long it’d been since John B last saw JJ. The moment he walked out the door John B kicked himself for it.

He couldn’t believe he’d actually said that to JJ. ‘You’re going to end up just like your dad.’ He couldn’t think of a worse thing to say to JJ.

It’d overall been a shit week, and John B knew that he was sleep deprived and irritable from everything that’d gone on, not like that was any excuse for what he’d done.

As time ticked by, John B just kept going over everything he’d done wrong in the past week.

You’re going to end up just like your dad. We’re sick of your shit.

Not to mention the time he grabbed JJ by the collar of his shirt and shoved him up against the wall. The way JJ flinched and seemed to shrink into himself, immediately casting his eyes down, was an image John B couldn’t get out of his head. He knew better than to touch JJ without explicitly asking or giving him plenty of forewarning, let alone grab him out of nowhere while he was angry.

God, JJ looked so scared in that moment, and John B couldn’t even believe he’d just made the person he cared about most in the world feel threatened by him. And JJ didn’t even look like he’d fight back. He looked like he was bracing himself, ready to take whatever harm was to come to him.

JJ put so much trust in John B, letting him be in control of their most intimate time together. JJ once told him that he felt the most safe when he was around John B, and he heard all of the words not said in that one sentence. I trust you. I trust you to have power over me, emotionally and physically. I trust you enough to be vulnerable, knowing that I won’t get hurt. Knowing that you won’t hurt me.

And John B felt like within the span of a week, he’d destroyed all of that.

Just come home, just come home, just come home. Please, JJ, just come back to me.

The sun was starting to set, and John B was getting even more antsy. They’d never had a fight that kept JJ away for longer than a day or so, which meant that John B already knew where JJ was, even though he didn’t want to believe it.

Shit, shit, shit…

John B headed toward the door of the chateau, flinging it open on a mission to save JJ when he looked up.

Oh thank god.

JJ was standing on his porch, hand clutching his side and a couple butterfly bandages over his eyebrow and cheek. His shirt was torn, displaying the three developing bruises John B could see, meaning there were probably at least twice as many he couldn’t see.

John B’s mouth was hanging open, stopped dead in his tracks, unable to find the words to tell JJ how sorry he was and how much he wished he could’ve been better and how-

But his train of thought was cut off when JJ took two big strides towards him, smashing their lips together like it was the only thing keeping him alive. His hands were gripping onto John B’s sides, wadding up the cloth in his fists, and moved the pair of them back into the chateau, kicking the door shut with his foot.

JJ backed John B into the nearest wall, the intensity of the kiss momentarily distracting John B from the bigger situation at hand. JJ tugged John B’s shirt up, helping him out of it.

As they parted to remove the garment, John B tried to get JJ’s attention. “JJ-”

He didn’t let him get any more words out, though, pressing their lips back together the moment he could.

John B knew that JJ had a lot of pent up anger toward his father, toward the kooks, toward the world. He knew that JJ put on a show of being powerful, untouchable, even. JJ wanted others to think he was always in complete control, and while unhinged at times, a force to be reckoned with. JJ wanted others to think he was strong, and John B knew that was because of how frequently he was told he was weak.

John B thought JJ was as tough as they came. He was sure that if anyone else had been dealt the hand JJ had, they’d be doing a hell of a lot worse, and was impressed by his boyfriend on the daily.

But John B always thought JJ was the strongest when he was the most vulnerable, when he was with him, making this new dominant side of JJ concerning. JJ liked losing control and letting his guard down when he was with John B, letting John B take the lead. Right now, though, JJ was putting his walls back up, the tough act coming out. That’s how John B knew shit had really gotten bad, and he couldn’t help but blame himself for it.

John B tried again, “JJ.” He got the same reaction he did the first time, a non answer. John B delicately placed his hands on JJ’s shoulders, creating just a few inches of space between them as he finally got his attention. “JJ, JJ, slow down. I’ve been worried about you. What is going on, what hap-”

“John B,” JJ cut him off with a low, abnormally calm voice. John B stared in silence, growing even more concerned and confused by the look of intensity in his eyes. “Shut up.”

John B knew that at the end of the day, he’d do whatever JJ asked of him, but it didn’t stop him from trying to get more information. “JJ, I just-”

“Please,” JJ almost pleaded, gazing deep into his eyes. “Give me tonight.” John B stared at his boyfriend for a few more seconds before nodding his head. “Tell me if things get too-”

“I know,” John B assured, remembering the safe word they’d established early on in their relationship, South, and the one time JJ had to use it. He’d had a panic attack, mumbling something about a flashback, but John B had never gotten anything more than that.

With the green light, JJ slipped his tongue back into John B’s mouth, cool rings on his hand pressing into his neck, using his body to push John B back against the wall.

JJ was running his hands all over John B’s exposed chest, John B slowly moving his hands up to place on JJ’s waist. The moment he made the slightest contact though, JJ flinched away, grabbing both of his wrists and pinning them to the wall.

His grip was unfaltering, and stronger than usual, and JJ held his wrists there as he started kissing down John B’s body, pausing to suck and graze his teeth over a few spots.

Reaching the waistband of John B’s shorts, JJ moved his grip from John B’s wrists in order to yank his shorts and underwear down. John B’s hands started to tingle, unaware until just then that JJ had been gripping so tight it started cutting off blood flow.

JJ, now on his knees, started pumping his hand slowly up and down John B’s half-hard shaft, the contact sending a shiver down his spine.

At one point, John B couldn’t stop the small jerk of his hips toward JJ, which was the wrong thing to do, as JJ’s crushing grip was back, both hands holding onto his hips and slamming them back into the wall. JJ resorted to using his mouth instead, lips wrapping around the tip and hollowing his cheeks. John B tossed his head back, harder than he intended, making a somewhat painful contact with the wall. JJ started bobbing his head up and down at a faster pace, only breaking contact once to wet two of his fingers which he circled around John B’s hole.

John B could see the contractions of JJ’s biceps, and almost felt his fingers shaking against him. He was confused at first about what it meant, but soon figured out that he was holding back. JJ had always been the dominant one in his flings with girls, but had never been in this position with John B before. He could tell that JJ wasn’t going as far as he wanted to, that he was restraining himself from taking what he wanted.

John B wanted to know everything that JJ had to give, and acknowledged, in almost a challenge-like way, “You’re holding back on me.”

Within a flash, JJ stood up, threading his fingers through John B’s hair to yank his head back, his other hand keeping it’s harsh grip on his hip. John B whimpered at the sensations.

Looking down on him, JJ demanded, “Is that not what you want?”

John B thought it wasn’t, but seeing him now, and knowing how much darkness he has, there was a fraction of a second where he wanted to change his mind. But the second passed and John B still wanted to see all of JJ, every dark and twisted corner, everything he hadn’t seen before. And he could tell that it was taking a lot of effort for JJ to restrain himself, too much effort. John B wanted him to let go.

He shook his head, voice coming out as only a small whisper, “It’s not what you want either.”

It was like flipping a switch. With force, JJ dragged him by his hair to the bedroom, and once inside, threw John B onto the mattress.

It felt a little unfair, John B completely exposed in front of JJ while he still had his shorts and shirt on. It was getting dark now, the sun having completely set over the water, leaving only the light of twilight to illuminate JJ’s face as he climbed over John B.

He quickly coated his fingers with the lube from the bedside table before shoving them into John B. With his other hand, JJ was tugging his own shorts down and reached for a condom. He had to remove his fingers from John B to put it on, causing John B to squirm in his absence.

Without any forewarning, and barely any time to adjust, JJ was pushing into John B, drawing a small whine from his kiss-swollen lips.

JJ set a bruising pace, leaving John B gasping for air. “JJ-” he choked out.

“Is this what you wanted?” JJ hissed, hand snaking up to wrap around John B’s throat. “You wanted to see just how fucked up I am?”

JJ’s grip was getting tighter, his pace faster, as he kept talking. “Well, Maybanks are only good for one thing, so you’re right. I will end up just like him some day. I already am like him. A fucked up monster.”

“J, no, that’s not-” John B started to say, as he reached a hand up to grab JJ’s wrist in an attempt to loosen his grip.

“Don’t touch me!” JJ yelled. John B removed his hand like he’d been burned. “Don’t you get it? I ruin everything I touch!”

John B’s face was starting to flush, his head getting fuzzy. He could only concentrate on the cool rings digging into his neck and the words JJ was saying, sounding farther and farther away.

“Have you ever experienced death before?” JJ whispered like a threat next to his ear. “Because I have. I can show you.”

“Jayj-” John B pleaded, using his last reserve of breath. “S..so-south.”

And just like that, JJ was off him, backing himself against a wall as far away from John B as possible. John B took a deep, shuddering breath and swallowed, closing his eyes until the fuzziness in his head subsided.

When he felt like he could think again, he sat up and looked around the room for JJ. He was crouched in a dark corner of the room, head in his hands, knees trying to block his face.

“JJ,” John B said with a scruffy voice, standing up to walk over to his boyfriend. He slid down the wall until he was seated next to JJ, sure to leave enough room for him to move without touching him. JJ curled into himself even more, leaning away from John B. “JJ, please look at me.”

JJ did as he asked, alluring blue eyes shimmering with tears, a dramatic difference from the dark, intense orbs of only a few seconds before.

“I’m okay,” John B assured.

JJ shook his head, eyes roaming over his hands, and hiccupped, “I hurt you.”

“You didn’t, I promise. I’m okay, I’m right here,” John B told him.

JJ’s eyes were panicked as he scanned over John B’s body. John B followed his gaze, evaluating the already forming marks on his hips and wrists. He was sure that JJ’d left a handprint on his neck, too, which was where JJ’s gaze lingered the longest. “No. I hurt you. I need to leave.”

JJ stood up, making a noise of discomfort as he did so, and hurried toward the door. John B was behind him in an instant and put his hand on the door. JJ stopped in his tracks, taking a step back from John B and looked back at the ground.

JJ was shutting down, John B knew that, and he knew that he had to reach him fast before he went completely under. “JJ,” John B whispered, “Can I… Can I touch you?”

JJ didn’t answer, but he didn’t back away or say no. John B slowly raised his arm, hovering his hand before JJ. “Is this going to be okay?”

JJ nodded, and before John B could fully process it, JJ was throwing himself into his arms, clinging to him like he never had before. He started sobbing, forehead pressed against his chest, and John B couldn’t hold back the tears that slipped down his own cheeks.

“How can anyone ever trust me if I can’t even be trusted around you?” JJ choked out. John B wasn’t sure if he’d heard him right, because he was speaking so quietly, but he thought he heard him ask ‘how can I trust myself?’

John B walked the two of them backwards toward the bed, sitting down as gently as possible. He attempted to pull away from JJ, but JJ held onto him. Tilting JJ’s head up, he pressed a kiss to his forehead, then promised, “I’ll be right back.”

John B walked over to put on a new pair of boxers before grabbing the first aid kit, and returned to where JJ was on the corner of the mattress. He lifted JJ’s shirt over his head, tossing it aside.

It hadn’t been this bad in a while. There were four purple, fist-sized bruises littering JJ’s torso, a yellowish one on the back of one of his shoulder blades, and a cut along the top of JJ’s shoulder down his tricep, not to mention the cuts he’d already bandaged himself over his eyebrow and cheek. John B coaxed JJ out of his shorts, which displayed something even worse.

There was a giant stack of gauze covered by a poor wrap job below JJ’s hip, reaching down the side of his thigh. “J… what… what happened?”

“He uh… he um… uh,” JJ trailed off, swiping at his nose. John B stayed silent, giving JJ time to put the words together in his head. “He called me… he said I was a dirty fag and that anyone who wanted to be with me was lying and using me because who would ever actually want to be around me? And then he made me…” JJ shuddered out a sigh and shook his head. “And then he tore his beer can in half and jammed it into my leg.”

“And you tried to bandage this up by yourself?” John B asked, concern dripping from every word. They both heard the real question, ‘You didn’t come to me?’

JJ shrugged. “I don’t know, I thought… I thought you might be getting tired of having to deal with this.” Having to deal with me.

“I will never get tired of being around you,” John B guaranteed. To emphasize his point, John B placed a kiss on JJ’s lips, then both his cheeks, his closed eyelids, down his neck. “I love you, JJ. There will never be a moment when that is not true.” Kissing across JJ’s cut shoulder and down his shoulder blade, John B felt him start to relax. He brushed his lips as delicately as he could over the bruises he found there, then traveled down his torso to do the same. “I love every inch of you. Every corner of your mind.”

“That’s the cheesiest shit I’ve ever heard,” JJ said with a small laugh.

John B smiled, looking up at JJ through his eyelashes. “I know. Doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

JJ brought John B up to kiss him, a finger under his chin, pulling him as close as he could.

When they parted, JJ whispered, “I love you too.”

They stayed sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at each other with small smiles for a while before John B said, “Let’s get you patched up.”

•••

Thanks for reading. Let me know what you thought, feedback is appreciated. :)

Find me on AO3 at the same username.

#jj outer banks #obx fanfiction #outer banks imagines #jj maybank imagine #jj x john b #outer banks #jj maybank x john b #john b routledge #outer banks imagine #obx #jj obx #john b obx #obx imagine #jj maybank #john booker routledge #john b outer banks #smut #angst

82 notes · View notes