characters: sanzu (haruchiyo), rindou, chifuyu, hanma x domme! (sadistic) reader
cw / tw: super heavy mf dubcon, pegging, fucking machine (?), brat taming (?), choking, slapping, degradation, words like "stop" / "wait" / "enough" etc. used but no safeword usage (?) aka dubcon again, dacryphilia, size kink,
a/n: haha get dubconned losers ........ sorry I'm sick in the head , kinda inspired by red lights by skz stays don't come for me, just a few tiny drabbles yup yup, no beta we die like hanma soon (by my hands)
minors and ageless blogs do not fucking interact. I am in your walls.
sanzu
haruchiyo knows exactly what he did wrong. now he has the nerve to protest. you grab a fistful of pink hair, yanking his head up making him yelp, signature smile long gone. he's on his tummy pressed down by the weight on his hips. you're putting your full weight on him, pressing his erection further into the hard floor. he wriggles slightly, annoyed at how easily he's overpowered when aroused but his mind blanks when he feels the cold metal against his wrists and a click can be heard.
"can't move your arms now, squirmy fucker" you sneer down at him, hands running up his back, slowly creeping on and around his neck like a snake wrapping around it's prey.
haruchiyo chokes out a tiny "wait" but gets cut off, slowly starting to feel lightheated, gritting his teeth and throwing a few insults your way in between his desperate gasps. yet he can't deny the fact that his body is responding, subconciously grinding his hips more into the hard unmoving floor, desperate for any kind of friction at this point.
"look at you rutting against anything like the fucking dog you are. I think you need to be reminded of who's on top, huh?"
rindou
he can't count how many times he came tonight. sweaty strands sticking to his even sweatier forehead, heavy panting, mind hazy and body sore. the clothes you cut off are lying somewhere in this room and rin can't even remember where he is. all he knows is that you are right in front of him, grinning at his trembling form and pathetic state. oh and of course the relentless pace of the fucking machine you set up, plowing into his twitching hole over and over again, not letting him rest for even a minute.
"that was great, no? but you can give me one more right?" you pat his sweaty hair gently tucking a strand behind his red ear.
"y/n I'm not sure if I- I think we should stop. Please I can't take this anymore" rin pleads, tears welling up in his eyes and voice coming out in shaky breaths. he stops himself in embarrassment, hating to admit defeat and nearly starts crying when he sees the way your face falls from a smile to a bored look. but you compose yourself again, leaning in close and gently licking the tears that are rolling down his cheeks.
leaning back, a tense smile on your face, you firmly state "You will give me more and more, until I'm satisfied. Understood?"
And rin can only nod, falling onto his elbows when the machine starts picking up the pace.
chifuyu
this is all his fault for wearing lingerie underneath his suit. he obviously is trying to whore himself out to you, why not take the oppurtunity? what chifuyu didn't know is that you want him to go up a few sizes, he surely could handle it, no?
he couldn't and now you've got him tied down on the bed, lacy panties pushed to the side and legs held apart by your feet as you press the girthy strap further and further into him, whispering a few "take it. take it. make it fit, I know you can." and chifuyu can only sob, strap stretching him out as far as possible, his hole struggling to take you in.
tears running down his face, head spinning and cumming over and over again into the sheets underneath. chifuyu can't think straight anymore, treading a fine line between pain and pleasure. you snake your arms underneath his armpits and up over his shoulder, getting a good grip and slamming the strap down harder. now being closer you can hear each whimper much closer, making your heart beat faster in excitement. biting down on his shoulder makes chifuyu release yet again, whining at the sticky feeling underneath him.
hanma
you've got hanma tied down in a chair, securely tied so he can't break the restraints. Or maybe he doesn't want to break them? Who knows what that guy is thinking. He clenches and unclenches his fists, carefully putting pressure on the restraints, but quickly stops, whipping his head up. "how fun~" his smile widens, not knowing what's in store for him.
after a while... slapping him in the face for the nth time isn't fun anymore, always getting the same insane smile back. so when you reach for his dick instead you see the tiniest falter of his smile, making your own eyes widen in amazement. oh, this scares him? how fun for you now~.
his grin doesn't last long, replaced by a wobbly pout, eyes watery as he tells you "that's enough now don't you think so y/n? let's do something else-" earing a swift slap to his dick again making him keen over, whole body tightening. "no I think this is plenty fun~" your mean cackling ringing in his ears as hanma presses his thighs together.
Reader identifies as a woman, thus Johnny calls reader "lassie".
Simon and the guys were sitting around the breakroom passing the time.
Gaz and Soap, sitting on the couch both respond “Superman”
Simon smirks under his mask before giving his answer from his spot at the table. “Batman”
“Batman?! That’s s-” Soap is cut off by the ringing of Ghost’s phone.
Ghost holds up a finger and answers it “Hi, Darling.”
“Hey, Dummy, you busy?”
Ghost drops his finger “No, Darling. Just with the guys talking about who the best superhero is.”
“Ahhh, what did you say?”
Ghost’s mask moves as his smirk grows, already knowing what is coming “Batman”
“That’s no-. You’re so-. I-. How ca-. You-” You growl out, not finishing a sentence. You hang up in frustration.
Ghost just laughs and brings his phone away from his ear.
“Aye, who does your-” Soap is again cut off by Ghost’s phone ringing
“Yes, Love?”
“You’re just saying that to upset me hunh?”
He chuckles and then replies “Yes, Love.”
You make a hum of distrust
Simon just shakes his head and chuckles “We all know Spiderman is the best.”
Soap rolls his eyes.
Gaz gives Soap a confused look.
Soap whispers “His lassie, fire cracker that one is.” Gaz nods, having gotten his answer.
As Ghost pockets his phone Soap asks “So when do we get to meet the lass anyways?”
A/N: As always thank you for reading my fics and putting up with my terrible spelling/grammar. This is an absolute nothing burger, but I have to get these little ideas out of my head so I don't go crazy. Sorry if your favorite superhero isn't Spiderman. Reader is just me
Tags: Miguel × Reader, public setting, one shot, no smut. Sorry guys, terrible awful flirting, I'm the target audience, That's it. That's the plot. Okay, maybe I change my mind on no smut. Fuck. I suck at this.
AN: I have 0 idea how to make this all fancy and cute🥀🥀
Enjoy 💗💗
🐠. Gosh, he was so excited. His favorite documentaries were always on marine wild life, he couldn't wait to just talk on and on about everything he knew to impress you
His favorite, has got to be the Ballon fish, he watch an hour documentary once about their life. And it absolutely made him adore them.
"Y/N! Y/N! there, behind the rainbow fairy fish, do you see him?" He whispers excitedly. Squeezing your left with both of his hands, trying to hide his excitement and feeling definitely Giddy.
"Which one? I don't know their names, "
"The red head with a yellow body, amor," he giggled, too happy to really care.
"Where... Oh! That one, there. Is that it?"
"That's how you look holding your breath," he whispers, squeezing.you waist and snickering. With a bit of red on your cheeks, you speak up after a gulp. "..Maybe the gift shop will have something on them, " you smiled. You two looked at a few more exhibits before he dragged you to the corals and sponges, where it explained how every part of this ecosystem depends on one another, life cycles, and the plastic crysis.
After maybe two hours, with sore feet, and having heard a library of marine creature facts. Who wouldn't like some sex?...Well you do. What other way to get to it than with geeky pick up lines.
You wrapped your arms around his and chuckled.
"Miggy...We've done alot of walking, If your feeling down..I could feel you up."
"_..What? Amor de que locura hablas!" He chuckled, his cheek tinted with a beautiful rosy color on his tan skin.
"Just saying, your zipper look nice, maybe I should give it a durability test" you purred. Turning the corner to a library and seeing the bathroom. You walk without questioning.
"Yeah? Then you must be tired from looking so good, querida. How about i calm you down." He grinned, and with that, into the bathroom. Against the wall with hickeys, bites, and a lot of grinding... Maybe some breeding mentioned..
Might be my longest fic..SORRY ABOUT THE SMUT. I LOVE THIS MAN.
Captain Price with his hikikomori of a partner. Probably found you half dead on the side of the road in front of a bar, the last time you hung out with your "friends" (girls who genuinely just fucking bullied you) and now you spend all your time in his house.
His room reeks now, his bookcases that used to be empty now filled with obscure mangas and his desk refurbished into your gaming desk (free niche indie games on steam..).
Despite your clear issues, he's obsessed with you. There's no worry about you leaving his side, so he can always coddle you, not to mention you're extremely touch starved and love being rocked to sleep. Sex is the only weird thing.
You're horny, that much is clear after skimming one of the strange boys-love series you bought, but you're extremely picky. You don't make much noise during sex either, just heavy breaths and an occasional whine here and there, and you hate being manhandled. The most he's allowed to do is fondle your chest and suckle, but you make no reaction.
One day, he gets a call from you during work, you're asking about using his credit card for the new dlc to your favorite game, while he's groaning affectionately. His men ask about who you are after that and never stop, wanting to meet you desperately. Do you want to meet them? Eh, check back tomorrow.
You have a full closet of expensive, custom made clothes, yet you never go anywhere. You don't need to do laundry because all you wear is a t-shirt and a pair of his boxers. The day you take a shower is the day Hell cools over.
Some random day on his leave, he's sitting on the couch with you while you (mis)use his tv to watch game documentaries, fondling his body and objectifying him idly. You randomly state out, "I wanna meet your friends."
He chokes on his own spit and has to take a good few takes, looking over your outfit again before properly processing what you've said.
He helps you detangle your hair and wash your body for hours, giving you multiple bubble baths and cleaning the water when it turns dirt brown. He helps you go through your closet, deciding between which lolita dress to wear. Not lolita? Then we go through your scene catalog. Not that? Emo? Goth? It takes half an hour at least just to decide the aesthetic.
When you finally settle on some black, somewhat modest skirt and a pink sweater (paying homage to Madotsuki from Yume Nikki, you say. he doesnt understand), he then drives you to a nearby cafe for everyone to meet at.
The entire time, you're mostly on your phone or clinging shamelessly to John. You bit him more than a few times directly in front of his men, and he speaks for you more than you do for yourself when they ask questions.
I dont know where to go from here, I just like neet/loser/incel/hikikomori reader and think its funny to see loser reader with older man who doesnt understand a word of what youre saying. he just thinks youre neat (neet).
Summary: Crowley was not expecting you to lose your shit when he asked what you were reading.
Soundtrack: Crazy = Genius by Panic! at the Disco
Requests: Open!
Warnings: The ravings of a madwoman. (It's me, I'm the madwoman.)
It wasn't unusual for Crowley to find you tucked away somewhere in the bookshop reading one of the countless old books Aziraphale kept around. You liked classic literature, and history, and philosophy, and who knew whatever other subjects you happened to find lying around the place.
What was unusual, however, was finding you sat in his usual armchair, reading what was decidedly not a two-hundred-year-old first-edition copy of the random novel you'd decided to bury yourself in that day.
He paused in front of you, carefully tilting the book you held up so that he could look at the cover.
"Dead Mountain?" he asked, an eyebrow cocked so high you could see it over the rim of his sunglasses.
"No, no," you said, a fire immediately lighting in your eyes. "No. Don't even get me started. This is fucking insane."
Crowley never was one to listen to your advice. "Oh?" he prompted casually, and suddenly a chair appeared behind him that he, without looking, flopped down into and sprawled across.
"No, because--"
He loved watching you read. The quiet intent, the way your face moved in tandem with whatever emotions the text wanted you to feel. He'd once walked in on you sobbing along with some tearjerking novel (as a side note, that was the first time Crowley had found himself wanting to kill a book?), and another time he'd walked in on you cheering over something... triumphant, he assumed, or at least something like that.
This was different. New.
He loved it too. The fevered look in your eyes, the frustrated set of your jaw. The way your hand, shaped like a predator's claws, gripped his knee tightly in excitement.
"This is--" you were saying, and Crowley startled back into the moment, eyes on you, attention now unwaveringly on your blazing gaze. "This is so fucking insane. I can't get over this."
"Over what, darling?" he asked, and your gaze sharpened on him, as if only just realizing he was there.
"Do you know about the Dyatlov Pass Incident?"
It sounded familiar. "Tell me all about it, darling."
"Oh, you're gonna regret that."
He wouldn't. Not ever.
"Okay, so -- Soviet Russia. 1959. Middle of winter. These nine hikers -- actually, it was originally ten. These ten experienced hikers go into the Ural Mountains to, like. Upgrade themselves? 'Cause I guess there are levels to being a hiker, and you have to go on increasingly more difficult hikes to level up. So all ten were level two or whatever, and they were going on a level three hike to upgrade to level three."
He nodded, even though all the information was secondary in his attention. He just liked listening to you.
"Okay. So they get to this little town, and while they're there, all the locals are telling them shit like, 'Don't go up that mountain,' or 'you'll die up there!' Like, horror movie type shit. The kind of stuff that makes you yell at the TV."
He was familiar with that. You did that a lot -- but so did he.
"Oh, and the mountain they were hiking on? In the local language it's called Kholat Syakhl. Do you know what that means?"
He... he did. He knew what everything in every language meant. But he let you have this, because you were clearly excited. Seeing the way you motioned with the book, he waved toward it and asked, "Dead mountain?"
"Fucking -- dead mountain!"
He chuckled, but otherwise stayed silent.
"So they're getting all these crazy warnings and the mountain is literally called Dead Mountain in the local language, but they decide to go anyway! So they go off, but before they get very far, one of them is like, 'I'm so sick, I can't go on!' and so he tells them he's gonna go back to the town, and they leave without him."
"I take it he's the only survivor?"
You nodded. "Yeah. The other nine kept going. Oh, and another crazy thing -- one of the girls on the trip was keeping a journal? That's how we know about, like... 90% of the things that happened after they left the town."
He nodded. "Makes sense."
"So, because of this girl's journal, right? We know that one of the hikers just, like, fully went off his fucking rocker about a day into the trip."
"What?" Crowley asked, leaning forward with interest.
"Yeah! He started getting really antsy, and he kept shouting stuff at seemingly nothing? He yelled, like, 'Stop following us!' and stuff like that. At nothing!"
Crowley, for effect, took his sunglasses off so that you could see his surprised look.
"Anyway. So they keep going, even though literally everything that could ever say 'turn back' is saying 'turn the fuck back!' They got off course --"
"As you do."
"As you fucking do. They got off course and decided to hunker down for the night and retrace their steps in the morning. They set up camp, went to bed, and then they all fucking died."
"Oh, I imagine there's more to it than that," Crowley said.
The grin on your face was bordering on manic. "Oh, of course. First of all, according to the girl's journal, two of the hikers went batshit, started laughing hysterically for no reason, and then took off into the night, never to be seen again -- well, not alive, anyway."
"Ominous," Crowley observed thoughtfully.
"Right? And the other weird thing about that -- well, pre them all dying. There was, according to the girl, a big, glowing orange ball of light in the sky that night. They have a picture of it," you said, turning the book so that he could see. "Of course, it's in black and white, but still. And -- the craziest part of that, is that there were hikers on the other side of the mountain on the same night who confirmed the big glowing orange ball of light!"
Crowley's mouth dropped open.
"I KNOW! And then -- their deaths are even more bizarre! First of all, they cut their way out of their tent? Like, they didn't just -- open it and leave. They cut. Their way out. And then they ran down the side of the mountain into the trees. No one's really sure how anything else happened, but what we know for sure is that three of them were found a little up the mountain, like they'd been trying to make their way back up."
"Mhm."
"And two were found naked -- right at the edge of the trees, under one of the bigger ones. Some branches in the tree were broken in a way that seems to indicate that they were trying to climb up and get a view of the camp. There were also remains of a fire beside the bodies. We don't know for sure why they were naked, but the theory is paradoxical stripping."
"And what's that?" Crowley asked, even though he knew.
"It's when you're so cold that you start to feel hot, and so you take off all your clothes."
Demonic work, he was sure.
"So that's five of them. They were found shortly after they died. The other four weren't found until a few months later, after the spring thawed a lot of the snow."
"Why weren't they found right away?"
"Because they were found in a ravine about a mile past the treeline! Three of them were found in a stream in this ravine. One of them had a piece of her skull missing? And all of them had major trauma to their chests -- like, high-speed impact by a delivery truck kind of major impact. To this day, no one's sure what the fuck caused that kind of damage."
Crowley clicked his tongue in thought.
"And the last one -- she was found sitting up against a big boulder? The official report describes her like that. Sitting up against a boulder. She had, like, chunks of her face missing? And her tongue was missing. Like, the whole thing."
"You specified the official report," Crowley observed. "Is that important?"
"Oh! Yes! Because the pictures of the area? They show her as laying face down in the stream with the others!"
"That's suspicious."
"Right? On top of all that, their bodies had traces of radiation! Not their clothes, though, or their belongings. Just the bodies."
Crowley hummed.
"Oh! And their tent -- when authorities found the tent, it looked like it had been put up by amateurs. Like, level zero hikers. But these were level two hikers doing their level three hike. There's no reason their tent would've been put up like that. Even if they were in a rush or scared or whatever, it would've been put up at least sort of better."
He nodded in understanding.
"It's just -- it's all so crazy!"
"I can tell," he mused aloud, lips quirking into a smirk at your perplexed and frustrated expression.
"The thing with the girl's face is really weird," you said after a moment of thought. "The theory is scavengers, but reports of the incident specify there were no animals in the area. Like, I feel like if there were scavengers, you'd write down 'no predators,' or even 'no wolves or bears.' But no, they wrote, very specifically, 'no animals.' Like, I dunno, it just feels like that's a weird distinction to make. But then, if there weren't any animals, how did her face end up with bits missing?"
"I couldn't tell you."
"And why lie about her, too? Why move her and put her in the stream when the report literally says she was up against the boulder?"
He shrugged, before shifting forward to grip your knee.
"I just -- it's all so crazy, and weird, and -- and --"
"Oh," Crowley interjected, looking thoughtful. "Now I know why that all sounds familiar."
"Huh?"
"Yeah, that was demonic work," he continued, blissfully unaware of your increasingly maddening expression. "I'm pretty sure that was my side."
"So you -- you know what happened?"
He finally caught your expression, the set of your jaw and slight twitch in your eye. "Oh -- yeah. Of course," he said, sounding rather unsure, actually. If anything, that just seemed to aggravate you more. "Space yetis."
@croixphobique literally killed it because I fucking adore this man DUH
I'm crying in the cluuuuub
Please consider commissioning yourself or you and a character from them for Christmas, Chanukah, Kwanzaa, Yuleblót, whatever! - they're so sweet and accommodating with pricing, choices, and stellar artwork! ✨💖
(thank you again @croixphobique. I am so blown away!)
