#a crime that we never heard him say fuck
Text
rip jake the dog, you would’ve loved swearing on adventure time
#a crime that we never heard him say fuck#jake the dog#adventure time#fiona and cake#merry talks#*100#*200#*300#*400#*500#*600#*700#*800#*900#*1k#*1.5k#*2k#*2.5k#*3k#*3.5k#*4k
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
I have a hard time talking about American law enforcement, because I have ptsd (like a therapist told me this and everything) from my own experiences with cops and because it's so balls quaking insane.
Like, a cop in the United States can pull you over for any reason. Which is a nice way of saying no reason, because literally anything can be used after the fact as justification. A cop can say its cuz you looked at him, or didnt look at him, or it looked like you were holding something, or looked like you were driving too perfectly for it to be natural. It's insane.
There are apparently no circumstances where a cop can't just kill you. The line the courts have applied is "reasonably believed" you were a threat, but that's such a nebulous nothing limit that people get shot for reaching for their license, having their phone in their hand, you're running away with no weapon, not being able to follow conflicting commands, like anything. And cops are almost never charged, because every court is going to believe he could "reasonably believe" he was threatened. Fuck, if you give me enough time, I can make any situation seem juuuuust plausibly threatening enough to pass that bar. It's insane.
A cop can just rob you. Like tell you to give him your wallet, take all the cash out, and just walk away with it. Exactly like you would imagine getting robbed in an alley would go, except no one can help. And he doesn't even have to hide it, he just drops it in a box at the station and they put it in their bank account. It's legal. You can't prove it wasn't drug money. I can't prove any money wasn't at some point drug money. It's insane.
If a cop just walks in your front door and says "I'm here to kill you and your entire family" YOU ARE GOING TO PRISON IF YOU STOP HIM. There is no positive defense for assaulting a police officer in the United States, and doubly so if you kill him. You have effectively no defense against a homicidal cop, which happens same as any other job. Unless for some reason you have cameras all thru your house and clearly caught the audio of him saying that he's there just to kill you, you have zero chance of not going to prison, probably for life. And that's assuming you aren't killed "resisting arrest" while being taken into custody. It is a crime, in this country, for you to defend yourself under any circumstances if the person you're defending yourself from is a cop. That's insane.
You don't have civil rights if a cop says so. You have the right to have a gun, right? A lot of states have open carry. A cop can shoot you if he sees you have a gun. Doesn't matter if you have a license and everything. So you effectively don't have the right to bear arms if a cop can shoot you for exercising it. You have the right to protest. Unless a cop tells you to stop. He doesn't need a real reason to tell you to stop. And if you don't stop, you can be arrested or shot. So you don't really have the right to protest, do you? A cop cant just search your car or house, right? Unless he claims he heard something, or smelled something, neither of which can be proven. So a cop can search whatever he wants, as long as he pretends there was a "reason". So you dont have protection from unreasonable search and seizure, do you? These are no longer rights- they're things the cops allow.. for now. But legally, those rights have already been found to not actually be rights, because any random cop can decide to take that right from you, for any reason. It's insane.
These aren't like crazy things that I'm just making up, these aren't some weird twisted way I'm looking at something, these are all very real things that we all just.. ignore? Police abolitionists and the media bring these things up all the time, and the overwhelming response to it is: so what? Don't break the law and it won't matter. Blue lives matter. More police funding. Cops should have tanks. It's insane. And I always feel like im just rambling and sound insane when I say this kind of stuff because if you wrote a book and had the dystopian government doing the stuff that the police in this country do every single day, those same people who "back the blue" would line up to say stuff like "*Books government* wouldnt have a chance before us real americans stopped them" on twitter and not even get a hint of the irony.
36K notes
·
View notes
Text
"sure thing"
pairing: target!gojo x assassin!fem!reader
summary: you've been hired to kill the satoru gojo. how will you pull it off... and what will you do when he figures it out?
content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, darkish content (all is well in the end), no established relationship, assassins/organized crime, blackmail, mention of a “suicide mission”, attempted murder (uhhhh), hidden identity, intended use of sex as a means to an end, mating press, unprotected sex, p->v, creampie, oral (fem!receiving), praise, pet names (gorgeous/sweetheart/baby), slight aftercare.
a/n: me 🤝 describing gojo as having dimples
welcome to my second 1k followers event fic! At this rate tho i’m going to hit 2k before i finish the 1k event LMAO. not that i'm complaining hehe. thank you for being patient and for all the support on my recent works! i really appreciate every ask, comment, follow, reblog, everything. they mean the world to me. check out the rest of my 1k event here. enjoy and remember that ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!
creds: twitter template by @cafekitsune
wc: 7.8k
“Who?!”
No fucking way. There’s no way he just said what you think he said.
“You heard me,” he scowls. He glares at you from across the desk. His seat is one of those cushy little office chairs, of course. Yours is plastic– cold and hard.
“Are you fucking insane?” you hiss. There’s no other explanation for what he’s asking you to do. He’s lost his fucking mind.
“We have a client willing to pay big money for this. Big money for just an attempt,” he answers.
You laugh, but there’s absolutely nothing funny about this conversation. “Oh, I’m sure you do. Probably because he’s practically invincible. I’ll never even lay a hand on him.”
Your “boss”, for lack of a better term, only scowls harder, the wrinkles forming near his eyes etching deeper in his skin. “Well, you’d best find a way to make it work. You’re taking this job. That’s final.”
You scoff. Maybe you should recommend he see someone… “No. There’s no way. I’m not doing this.” You stand, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “Get someone else to go on your suicide mission.” You take a couple strides toward the door before two very large men move to block your path.
“Not so fast,” your boss calls. You pause, eyeing up your competition. You could definitely take them if you needed to. You sense only a very faint amount of cursed energy coming from each of them– not even enough to make you blink– but something in your boss’s tone makes you turn back.
“Yes?” You cross your arms over your chest, fingering a blade hidden in your breast pocket.
He fiddles around in his pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighting up right there in his office. You don’t try to hide the way your nose scrunches up. “You want to do this job.”
Your eyes narrow. Something tells you you’re not going to like what comes next. “And why’s that?”
He takes a long puff, letting the smoke flowing out of his lungs with a slow exhale. “Because otherwise that little brother of yours is gonna be…” he pauses to give you a smile that makes your stomach churn. “Hmm… a lot smaller, shall we say? Maybe in several limb sized pieces?”
You think your heart stops. Time halts as ice runs through your veins. Nobody knows about your brother. At least, they didn’t.
Your boss’s smile grows even wider. In all your time as an assassin, you’ve never wanted to kill someone more. But you know you can’t. Just an attempt on his life will end your brother’s.
“Don’t worry. He’s all tucked away and safe at home where you left him.” Just a tiny piece of your heart thaws with relief. “But try to run with him, or run yourself, and he won’t be safe much longer.” Your pulse pounds so viciously you’re sure everyone can hear. A bead of sweat rolls down your neck. “Now, will you accept the assignment?”
Your jaw clenches. He got you. In all these years of working for him you’ve been careful, meticulous about hiding every piece of your personal life to avoid situations just like this. But he still got you. He got you.
“Yes,” you breathe. You have no choice. You will either kill Satoru Gojo or you will die trying.
“Good,” is all he says, and then you’re being escorted out of the office wondering where the hell you went wrong.
~
It’s been three weeks since that fateful meeting with your boss. True to his word, your brother has remained unharmed, but you see his lackeys lurking around every corner. Neither you nor your brother are truly safe and you never will be again unless you can pull this off and then put together some plan to escape your boss’s clutches.
You’ll fail. You know you will. The thought eats you up inside with every waking moment.
You’ve done your best to learn every possible piece of information about Satoru Gojo in the past two weeks. You know you can’t tail him closely– he’d pick up on your cursed energy and notice your incessant presence, so you’ve had to study from a distance with only minimal moments of proximity. You know where he works, who he works with, what restaurants, bars, and clubs he frequents and what days of the week he tends to visit. You know what his order is at his favorite ramen restaurant, where he lives, what time he wakes up. Hell, you know what fucking brand of dish soap he uses. He lives a surprisingly… predictable lifestyle. He makes no attempt to switch up his schedule or cover his tracks. In any other situation he’d be every assassin’s dream, but this is Satoru Gojo and Satoru Gojo doesn’t need to worry about assassins– assassins need to worry about him.
It took you the first week to come up with a plan. You had no clue how you were going to get close to him, much less kill him, and his infinity technique was going to prove particularly problematic. How were you supposed to kill him when you couldn’t even touch him? You had to get him in a situation in which he would willingly let his guard down for you.
You’d been on the subway when it hit you. Sex. You’d get him to have sex with you. If you could get him to take you home, he’d have to turn infinity off for at least a short time. That would be your time to strike.
You’d spent the next two weeks primping yourself. You’d bought the most expensive dress you’d ever owned, got a mani-pedi, whitened your teeth, and spent a small fortune on makeup. Considering your circumstances, you thought your plan was quite a good one. You knew when he’d go out to the bar with his friends, which bar he’d go to, how long he’d stay, how he’d get a taxi home. You also knew when you’d arrive, how long you’d stay, and how you’d get a taxi with him– everything planned perfectly to best catch his attention. But for all your planning, there was still one thing you didn’t know. What kind of woman did Satoru Gojo go for? Someone submissive? Teasing? Aggressive? Playful? In all your time tracking him you’d never seen him take somebody home. It struck you as… odd. He was Satoru Gojo, renowned for his power, wealth, and good looks– surely he had women falling at his feet. Maybe he was just a little more… selective. If that was the case you’d have to be even quicker on your feet when you finally met him. And that time is now.
You’re in your bathroom, checking your makeup one last time before heading out the door. Your brother sleeps soundly in the room down the hall, safe for the time being. You’ve contacted a friend, one who is at least willing to try to get him out if– when– you fail. You doubt it will be enough.
You make your way to his room. A quick peek inside reveals he’s snuggled up with a plushie elephant that he carries around like they’re attached at the hip. You creep inside, a sad smile on your lips. This may very well be the last time you see him. You brush a stray lock of hair from his eyes and press a kiss to the crown of his head. With one last whispered ‘I love you’, you’re out the door. If you linger, you won’t be able to go– and you have to. For him.
The streets of Tokyo are cold tonight, like the weather knows what you’re about to attempt, like it’s preparing for death, for failure. For your failure.
The club you arrive at is upscale, and one where you’ve already tipped off the bouncer to let you bypass the line. You hear a few groans from the people behind you as you saunter straight inside.
You’re conscious of every little move from the second you step inside. At any moment, he could see you and it could make or break your entire plan.
You press your shoulders back. You have a plan– stick to it.
You make your way over to the bar, weaving your way between groups of people who are somewhere between giggling a little too loudly and tripping over their own feet.
You find a free space at the bar and lean up onto your elbows, your eyes screening the bartenders. You smile when you see a familiar face.
“Hey, Dean,” you call.
He turns and the sight of his friendly green eyes sets you a little more at ease.
“Oh, shit. Hey!” He slings a towel over his shoulder and comes to stand across from you. “You’re back,” he says. You nod and smile softly. Ever since you’d determined this would be the place you’d been coming periodically, chatting up the bartenders. The last thing you needed was to stand around in a corner alone with seemingly no friends. That wouldn’t attract anyone, much less Satoru Gojo.
Out of all the bartenders, Dean was your favorite– and you’d been oh so happy to learn that his schedule put him on every Friday night.
“Yeah. Long day at work.”
A smile pulls at his lips, but there’s a hint of sympathy in his eyes. “The usual, then?”
You nod solemnly. “That’d be great. Thanks.”
You watch him prepare the drink for you, feeling a little bad that it’s all a lie. There’s no bad day at work, you didn’t just happen to come in here one day and strike up a conversation with him. All of this is premeditated, planned, and it feels… lonely. It feels lonely to know that on what is probably your last night on earth you are surrounded by people who only think they know you.
“So, anything new happening?” Dean drops your drink in front of you and you have a feeling it’s filled with a little more vodka than he’s supposed to put in there.
Your eyes shift around the bar as subtly as you can manage. As much as you want to seem like you fit in, you also need to find Gojo. It’s a fine balance.
You shrug. “Yeah, I guess I just feel like a lot of things are going to be changing for me pretty soon.”
His brows pull together and the look he gives you is one of genuine interest and concern. It makes your heart wrench. “How so?”
You swallow. “Dunno. Just… everything.”
There’s a moment of silence and then the tapping of a finger on your glass. “Damn, girl. Drink up. You need it.”
You can’t help but smile. You have a feeling that Dean would have been a good friend of yours in another life.
You take his advice, though, and bring your drink to your lips and force a smile. You can’t be moping– not tonight.
The next twenty minutes are spent with Dean. Even when he’s making other drinks he’s still chatting with you, still being a good… friend. You dread leaving your little haven at the bar. The time is coming when you’ll have to seek out your target.
You’re shocked when it’s the other way around.
“Hey, gorgeous.” There’s a light brush on your shoulder and you turn. It takes all you have to keep your features schooled and calm. Satoru fucking Gojo just tapped your shoulder.
Nothing prepared you for how handsome he is up close. All those days of research, of tracking and tailing– none of it does the real thing justice. Even with those stupid sunglasses inside… he’s fucking beautiful. “I’ll pay for all of your drinks tonight if you let me skip this hideous line,” he whines.
You give yourself no more than a second to recover. You school your features into a smirk. You glance at Dean with an ‘is this okay?’ look. He just smiles and shrugs.
You turn back to Gojo, bracing yourself this time for the beauty you’re about to face. You meet his gaze and know you could get lost in it. “Be my guest.”
His smile nearly blinds you and his dimples nearly make you pass out. Still, you keep your cool.
“Yesssss!” He looks like a puppy just offered a bone.
He spills his drink order to Dean and it’s far more than could possibly be just for him. He’s here with his friends, then. Probably the blonde man who always looks too tired to be here and the girl with the brown hair who always seems like she’s just along for the ride.
You bite your lip to hide a laugh when he orders himself two strawberry daiquiris. Somehow you still catch his attention.
“What?” he pouts. You can’t help but feel a small stirring of surprise in your gut. He’s far more… relaxed than you’d expected him to be. He’s almost… childish?
You press your lips together and shake your head. You’ve reached the point where your research can’t take you any further. From this point on, it’s up to you to discover what Satoru Gojo likes in a woman.
You debate how to answer. Play coy? Tease him? Stay silent? Any option could be as correct as the next. You didn’t know where to start… so maybe you’d just start by being yourself.
“Just, um… not the order I was expecting,” you laugh. It’s halfway genuine. With the way he’s acting, it’s hard to remember that he’s the most powerful man alive.
His pout only intensifies. “Well, what’s your order?”
His question is answered when Dean sets another cosmopolitan in front of you. You laugh. “Never said I was judging, just that it wasn’t what I expected.”
Another smile tugs at his lips and something stirs in your gut that you try your very hardest to ignore. This was a job. There was no room for actually enjoying it. This man was probably going to kill you later, in a matter of hours.
There’s a beat of silence, and then a slight shift in his demeanor. He leans closer and you see a twitch of his lips. Your heart jumps.
“You’re a sorcerer,” he says.
You hold back an exhale of relief. You thought he might be onto you. If he is, he’s choosing not to reveal it yet.
You nod and take what you hope is a casual sip of your drink. “And you’re Satoru Gojo.”
A brow arches high enough for you to see it over his sunglasses. “You know who I am?”
You force a chuckle, smirking despite the pounding of your heart. “Who doesn’t?”
You’d decided long ago to tell him that you knew exactly who he was. It would seem more suspicious for a fellow sorcerer to have no idea what the Satoru Gojo looked like.
He flashes you a smile full of white and stupidly fucking perfect teeth. “That’s true, heh.” You press your lips together to avoid a smile. Not too humble, then…
“So, what’s your technique”
You shoot him a glance that questions his sanity. Asking a sorcerer what their technique is… is personal. It’s not information you give out to a rando at the bar– even if it is Satoru Gojo.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You take another sip of your drink, trying your hardest to remain somewhere on the border or interested and casual.
“Bet I could find out.”
That makes you turn fully, angling your body toward his. “Oh yeah? You challenging me to a fight?” You smirk and shake your head. “I’ll pass.”
He pouts again, but you see a hint of a smile peeking through. “Aw, come on. That’s no fun…”
You chuckle and take another sip of your drink. You’re not sure you’re sipping just for appearances anymore. You think you probably just need a little liquid courage to see this thing through. “Sorry. I value my life.”
You watch as he slides his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, just enough for you to get a glimpse of what’s behind. You nearly choke again and this time you don’t manage to hide your nervous swallow when he smirks.
“You’re so sure you’d lose?” His voice is teasing now and you hate that it’s actually having an effect on you. Job, job, job, just a job…
You clear your throat. “I like to think I’m not stupid enough to think that I could win.”
His eyes are blue– so fucking blue– and you feel like he’s seeing straight into your soul. Can he see? Can he see your filthy intentions? Your plotting? The rottenness of what you’re going to do? “What if I promise to take it real easy on you?”
Your drink is forgotten now. You’re lost in what he’s saying– in him. “No thanks.” Your voice is growing lower and you feel like there’s some magnet forcing you to lean into him, to seek his warmth.
“So you like it rough, then.” The trance is broken and your blood runs hot. Holy shit. This man is flirting with you and you hardly even had to try. He's trying to take you home. Little does he know, you’re a sure thing.
You watch as he throws back the rest of his strawberry daiquiri with a pleased “ahhh” at the end. When he turns back to you his eyes have a certain spark in them that makes your thighs press together. “You wanna dance with me?”
Fuck. This is going too well to be real. But you’re not about to pass up a good deal.
“What about your friends?” you ask and eye the several untouched drinks still left on the bar. It’s risky– giving him an out, but you can’t seem too eager.
He follows your gaze only to bounce his eyes straight back to you. “I’m sure they’ll get a look at ya and understand.”
The smirk he’s giving you is making electricity shoot straight between your legs. Damn. You really wish you didn’t have to kill him– or at least try to.
When he extends his hand you only hesitate for a second. Your heart leaps when you feel his skin on yours, knowing he’s let infinity down. He pulls you onto the dancefloor and it’s not long before he’s running his hands all over you– groping your ass, pinching your thighs, nipping at your neck. Pretty soon the dancefloor evolves to a dark corner of the club with his lips on yours and goddamn he’s a good kisser. You’ve got your fingers in his hair and his hand way too close to your boobs when he whispers those fateful words– “let’s get out of here.”
You can only hide your swallow and nod before he’s pulling you through the crowd, leaving the club behind. He hauls you both into the backseat of a taxi and the door’s barely closed before he’s all over you again. You think you hear the taxi driver mutter something about ‘staining the seats’ but you’re too far gone to give a shit.
Fuck, he feels good. He’s kisses you like he’s starved and your lips are the fountain of fucking life, like he’s never felt something so good and now he can’t get enough. And, god, he’s handsy. You’re forever grateful to your past self for discreetly hiding your blade in your bra– he would have felt a holster on your thigh at least ten times over by now.
He groans when you arrive at what you know is his apartment building, though you don’t let on that you recognize the place in the slightest. The look on his face makes you think he’s feeling actual physical pain at the prospect of having to peel away from you for even a second. Nonetheless, he tosses a wad of cash at the taxi driver and pulls you straight inside.
He can’t even wait for the elevator to come, groping your waist right there in the lobby and then when the elevator finally does come, shoving you up against the metal wall a licking stripe across your collarbone.
You can’t deny how nice it feels to be so desperately… wanted. Never once has a man made you feel this way– so consumed by him, him, him. Once again you curse the universe that you’re here with a mission other than getting laid.
You find yourself giggling when he pulls you out of the elevator and presses his palm to a fucking scanner to get into his apartment. You try to pull yourself together, but when he laughs with you, you can’t help but melt into him a little more.
As soon as the door clicks shut behind you, he’s got you up against another wall with your legs wrapped around his waist and his face buried in your neck. His sunglasses are long gone and you pull at his shirt, popping the buttons straight off the fabric until you slide the shirt down his shoulders and onto the floor.
“That was Versace,” he whines.
You plaster your lips to his. “I don’t care.” All he does is chuckle.
“So gorgeous…” he breathes and your head slumps back against the wall, giving him better access to the soft skin of your neck. Any minute now. Any minute he’s going to start stripping your clothes off and you’re going to have to let this charade crumble. You don’t want to. He’s practically worshiping you. It’s perfect, it’s amazing, and you don’t want it to end.
His fingers dig into the flesh of your ass and suddenly you’re moving again– moving, moving, moving until your back is bouncing against the softness of a mattress and you’re fucking giggling again like a lovesick idiot. Maybe you’d had a few too many sips of those cosmopolitans.
He’s smiling as he crawls over you and the sight makes your heart flutter with both lust and terror. Lust because he’s so fucking beautiful and terror because you know that any moment now you’re going to attempt to end that beauty forever.
A lump forms in your throat and you try unsuccessfully to swallow it. You have to do this, have to try. There’s no other way, no other option. Not for you.
Your thoughts must not have been as perfectly concealed as you’d thought because he quirks a brow. “Something goin’ on up here?” His lips slide across your temple in a touch that feels far too tender for a hookup. “Don’t worry, baby. It’ll fit.” He snickers at his own joke before burying himself in your neck. His hand slides down your side, pressing you up into him until you can feel every curve and cut of his muscles.
You bite your lip. You’ve already slipped enough for him to notice your nerves– you can’t let it happen again. You have to do it soon. Now. As soon as you see an opportunity you have to strike. You have to.
You arch up into him, scratching your fingers down his back, trying to seem as invested in the moment as you can. He gets greedier, leaving open-mouthed kiss down your neck, across your collarbone. You nearly freeze up when he kisses low into the valley of your breasts– as low as your dress allows. Then he moves over your clothes, kissing down your stomach as his hands rub your thighs.
Now. Now, while he’s not looking.
You slide a hand into his hair and another up to your chest, trying to play it off like you’re touching yourself. You sneak your fingers into your bra, feeling the cool metal of your blade glide across your thumb. Now.
You fist your fingers in his hair, holding his head down as best you can while you arc the blade toward his neck. Just one good hit, please…
You think you’re going to strike true– you’re so close– and then a firm hand wraps around your wrist, stalling your attack just as it was about to land.
Fuck.
He doesn’t look up right away, but you hear him sigh, feel his hot breath fanning over your thighs and stomach. When he finally does look up it’s with the eyes of a teacher who’s disappointed his student didn’t do their homework.
“Come on now, baby. I was really hoping you’d forget about all this and we could just have a good night together…” He’s pouting, whining, like a child who’s been told he can’t have dessert before dinner. Your shock stills you long enough that he easily maneuvers the blade from your hand, throwing it with a thwack into the wall to his right. It lands perfectly.
This is it. You’re going to die now. But not without a fight.
You spring up from the bed, kicking him a couple times in the process. You’ve missed your only chance. Now, if there’s even the slightest chance of escape, you have to take it.
You bare feet hit the carpet. No time to find your shoes. You dart for the door and hear him groan behind you. For a second you think you might actually make it, but you should know better.
He appears in front of you, straight out of fucking thin air, and his pout has transformed into something a little more sinister. “Come on, gorgeous. Let’s talk it out, yeah?”
You take a shaky step back, but you know it’s no use. He’s got you. It’s over.
You swallow and lift your chin– you at least want to die with a little dignity. “Just make it quick. Please.”
He sighs again and slides his hands in his fucking pockets, like this is just a stroll down the street. He stalks toward you, forcing you back until you’re pressed up against another wall. This motherfucker really likes walls.
His pout shifts to a smirk that borders far too closely on a grin. “Oh, no. I’ve always had a thing for taking it slow.”
You nearly snort. He certainly hadn’t had a thing for taking it slow just a minute ago. His arms cage you and your world grows infinitely smaller until it’s just him and those blue-ass eyes staring you down. Some distant part of you thinks you might not mind if it’s the last thing you ever see.
“Damn, I really thought you might give it up and just let me fuck you,” his pout returns. “So disappointing…” he sighs.
Your lips part. “You knew?”
That lights his face up like a Christmas tree. “Sensed you tailing me these past few weeks. Started on theeeee– 21st, no?”
Fuck. You’d been so careful. You’d only tailed him in public spaces, where your energy would be more diluted by the crowds. You’d stayed far enough away that he should only have caught mere glimpses of you, even suppressed your energy. He should not have been able to sense you. But he was Satoru Gojo– things people were not supposed to be able to do came easily to him.
But you have one thing on him.
“The 18th,” you whisper. “Started on the 18th.”
There’s a beat of silence and then his smile is growing wider, wider, wider, until it’s practically blinding you. “Well, shit,” he laughs. “You’re pretty good.”
You let a tiny smile slip through your terror. “I try.”
His eyes travel up and down your body, his pout slipping away to a frown. “What to do with you… hmm…” You lift your chin, taking shallow little breaths through your nose. You’re looking death in the face, but you’d never thought it would be so beautiful. He sighs. “I guess I could let you go.”
You freeze. He notices.
He quirks a brow, another smirk sliding across his lips. “What? Didn’t think that was an option?” You stay silent. No way he’ll let you go. It’s a bluff. A cruel trick. “It’s not like you could try again, gorgeous. I know your energy now and what you look like. Sorry, but your chance is gone.” That was fine by you. Your breaths come a little heavier, hope pulsing in your veins. “But–” shit. “Letting you go is so… boring. Especially after where we left off, yeah?”
Your jaw drops. “You cannot seriously be suggesting that we–”
He cuts you off with a kiss, one that makes your toes curl in the carpet and your stomach clench in anticipation.
“Oh, yes I am,” he chuckles. You feel his hand sliding down your hip, cool and calculating. “I know you weren’t faking the whole thing, gorgeous. Nobody makes out like that when they’re faking it.” You feel your cheeks heat. “And nobody gets this wet-” his fingers snake beneath your skirt, pressing to the wet patch on your panties. “When they’re faking it.” You gasp and reach out, hands clasping onto his shoulders for support. He only chuckles. “No worries, gorgeous. No need for any more faking tonight. I’ll make sure it’s all real.”
Somehow you’ve got your legs wrapped around his waist again and you’re headed to the bedroom– again. It’s like a replay– a redo.
“Let’s keep it less killy this time, yeah?”
Your back hits the mattress, your body bouncing lightly on its softness before he’s crawling after you. It’s simultaneously the best and worst deja vu you’ve ever experienced.
His hands slide down your body again, fingertips hooking beneath the hem of your skirt and shimmying it up your thighs until your panties are on full display.
“Shit,” you breathe. He’s moving so fast, like he’s desperate to go further, to get his greedy hands all over your bare skin.
You can’t say you blame him. You feel the same.
His thumbs hook under the fabric of your panties and you know it’s over for you. You can feel his warm breath skating across your thighs, feel the calluses on his hands scraping against your skin. You reach a hand down, tangling it in his hair, and you nearly faint when he smirks and looks up at you with those blue fucking eyes.
“I think I’ve seen this film before, sweetheart.” He tilts his head, resting his cheek on the plush of your thigh. “No more knives hiding anywhere, yeah?”
You clench your jaw, trying to control your pounding heart. You can’t believe you’re doing this. Why are you doing this? You wish you had a better answer than he’s beautiful and sexy and just a glance at him makes you want to rip his clothes off and climb him like a tree.
“Silent, hm? Guess I’ll just have to check myself…”
He’s pressing up the hem up your skirt, more, more, more, until he’s pulling your dress straight up over your arms and running his hands down your bare sides.
“None there…” His fingers cup your breast and you gasp, unable to contain your shock and the jolt that just rushed through you. He traces the outline of your bra. “You had the last one in here, no?” Your chest heaves under his touch, pressing the flesh of your breast up into his fingers. He smirks. “Best check again.” You feel an arm slide beneath you back and then your bra loosens before it’s completely gone.
There’s a beat of silence, of admiration. He gazes down on you and you see his snark falter for just a moment, replaced by a sparkle in his eyes. It makes your skin heat. His fingers brush the swell of your breasts, thumb trailing down over a nipple. You arch and gasp again.
“Fuck. Quit teasing so much.”
He chuckles and the sound washes over you until it settles in your bones. “Sush. I’m not done checking for weapons yet.”
You scowl but before you can even move to open your mouth he’s sliding your panties down your legs, hooking them around your ankles and tossing them somewhere on the floor.
His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you watch him settle himself down between your thighs, eyes never once leaving your center. “Don’t see any knives here, either, but maybe I should double-check…” he breathes.
He hooks your legs over his shoulders and you shudder, your breaths shaky. Fuck. You were supposed to kill him tonight but if he keeps going like this you’ll be the one deceased.
He meets your eyes when he takes the first long lick along your folds. You swear he’s smirking.
Your head rolls back and a pathetic sounding groan slips past your lips. You hadn’t realized how much he’d worked you up. Just the slightest touch feels like heaven.
His tongue nudges at your clits and your legs clench, tightening around his head. He laughs into your cunt and his warm breath skates up and over your tummy. Your fingernails scrape his scalp.
“I think you like this, gorgeous.”
Each word sends little puffs of air against your folds. It’s driving you crazy. You stare down at him, letting a smirk pull at your lips. Your eyes dart over his mouth, wet with your slick, and you don’t fail to notice the way he’s struggling to hold your gaze, eyes flickering back down to your cunt every second. Your smirk grows. “I think you’re liking this, too.”
He licks another stripe, from you pulsing hole to your throbbing clit, and this time he’s the one groaning. “Damn right I am.”
He eats you out like he kisses you– like a starved man, like he’ll die if he stops for just one second, like he can’t live without your juices on his tongue.
You whine and bury both hands in his hair, tugging desperately when his lips wrap around you clit and suck. It’s so much, too much, and yet it’s just right.
Your hips buck and squirm, but he’s got his fingers pressed deep into your flesh, holding you down to take whatever he gives. You think you see heaven when he slides two fingers into your walls, curling them into that gummy spot that has an unbearable heat building deep inside you.
“S-Satoru-” you stutter and you hear him moan and mutter into your cunt like he’s unwilling to leave it for even a second.
“Fuck, yes. Say my name, sweetheart.” Who are you to deny him? You whisper, whine, and whimper his name with every thrust of his fingers, every lick of his tongue. It’s delicious. Every so often he swaps his mouth and hand, thrusting his tongue as deep inside you as he can while his fingers rub dangerous little circles on your clit. Whenever things get a little too filthy he laps his tongue across your entire cunt and along your inner thighs, cleaning up every stray drop. You don’t know how much longer you can last under such a complete and total assault.
“S-Satoru, ‘m gonna-” He licks a thick stripe through your folds that makes your sentence end in a whine, his lips settling to suckle on your clit again.
God, it’s messy. It’s fucking disgusting. His whole chin is covered in spit and slick– and you love it. “Cum for me, baby,” he breathes.
You don’t need to hear much more. You let the heat inside you release with a whine, thighs trembling on his shoulders. Your walls pulse and throb around his fingers, sucking him in and never wanting him to leave. His tongue continues to rub lazy circles around your clit, working you through your high and making it last so long you think you might pass out.
Warmth spreads from the top of your head to the tips of your toes and your muscles tense and clench with each pulsing throb. You swear to god you see fucking stars.
It seems to go on forever, leaving you limp and shaking when the last waves finally slip away.
He presses a final kiss to your clit, one that makes your hips jolt from the overstimulation before he’s lifting himself up. “Wow. That looked like a big one,” he chuckles. He runs a soothing hand along your thigh and you don’t even have the energy to give him some sort of snarky reply. There’s hardly even a pause before something shifts in his eyes. “Let’s see if we can get one that’s even bigger, yeah?”
Before you can even process what he’s said you feel strong hands slide under your thighs, pressing them tightly to your chest as he settles himself close to you
You grasp at the sheets, hearing the clinking of a belt buckle and then the familiar pitch of a zipper being undone.
“Fuck,” you mutter. He’s big. Long and pretty and with a perfectly flushed tip. Your eyes are rolling back just thinking about having him inside you.
A strong hand smooths along your thighs, folding you in a way that feels more vulnerable and exposing than anything you’ve ever done before. He pauses for a beat, just staring down at you silently.
“Gorgeous,” he finally mutters, and something in your heart squeezes. His hand grips your hip firmly, holding you in place and you gasp when you feel him prodding at your entrance. It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. Big bad assassin turned simpering little bitch over some good Gojo dick.
“Just relaxxxxx, baby.” His hand rubs soothing little circles into your side and it’s so divinely distracting that it catches you by surprise when he starts pushing into you. You gasp and he only chuckles. Asshole.
He’s big– really big – and the stretch is somehow both painful and perfect. You groan into the air, struggling to take him. Every inch feels like it must be the last, but then there’s more. Your walls clench around him on instinct, trying to force him out.
“Fuck, baby. What did I say about relaxing?” You hiss when his hand skates down your tummy to rub messy circles on your clit. The relief is instant and you moan when you feel him slide in a little further. “There we go. Good girl.”
He continues feeding his dick into you, inch by inch, until his hips finally press to yours and you think you can feel him in your fucking throat. You hear him exhale, like it’s a relief to finally be fully inside you, like he’s been waiting for ages.
You expect him to not hold back, to let himself go and pound into you relentlessly, but he doesn’t. He only leans down closer to you, settling in when he starts a pace of slow, sensual thrusts. His brows pinch, his eyes hardened in concentration.
“Ah, fuck. You’re so tight.”
You want to shoot something back at him, but you’re hardly remembering to breathe with how deep he’s sliding into you. Instead, you just end up holding him tighter, your eyes fluttering shut.
Lips dust across your cheeks, just below your lashes. “Keep your eyes open, gorgeous. Wanna see you.”
You blink, thinking that it’s a notion that feels a little too intimate for a hookup. Regardless, you do as he wants, opening your eyes and holding his gaze.
A smile splits his lips and he presses his forehead to yours, picking up the pace of his thrusts. It’s not long before the sound of skin on skin fills the room and you’re both panting. His breath skates across your skin, hot and heavy, hitching with the groans and whines that spill from his chest. You can’t help but pull him closer, raking your nails down his back hard enough to leave marks. The action makes him emit a noise you can only describe as a desperate whimper. “Fuck, baby. Yes.”
His lips press to yours in a kiss that’s all desperation and teeth and tongue. You kiss him back with equal intensity, your body rocking with each heavy thrust. He’s pounding into you now, frantic for more, more, more of you. You want him to take it, take all of you.
A familiar heat pinches in your stomach and you know it won’t be long before he’s pushing you to another release. His dick drags in and out of you, prodding at the gummy spot inside you with every thrust and brushing so deliciously against your cervix that you can’t stop the moans spilling from your lips. It has you seeing stars again, has you clawing at him and panting into his mouth.
“Satoru… harder,” you breathe. You need more– more of everything, of him.
He groans. “You got it, gorgeous.”
His hips slam into you and it’s so perfect that you can’t help but whimper beneath him. It only gets worse when you feel his fingers on your clit again, hand pressed between your bodies. “Cum on my dick, baby.” Your eyes roll back, that coil inside you rolling tighter. You feel his muscles tensing and shaking above you and you know he’s close, too. “Where do you want it?” he asks, and from the pinched look on his face you can tell exactly where he wants it. You know you’re an idiot for feeling the same.
“Inside,” you breathe. He groans so loudly it rattles in your ears.
“That’s my girl,” he says, but it’s nearly a whisper with how strained it is. His hand continues at your clit, rubbing perfect little circles that make your legs tremble where they’re pressed against your chest. Your jaw hangs open, but you don’t dare close your eyes. Satoru is still holding your gaze intently, desperately, like he needs to see you. The thought throws you over the edge.
You cry his name, clawing at his shoulder and shaking like a leaf as you feel yourself gush and pulse all over his dick. For the second time that evening you feel the heat inside you swell and burst, washing through you in waves that nearly consume you whole. It’s a struggle to hold his eyes, to not let them roll back into your skull and give into the pure ecstasy of your high– especially when he’s cumming, too. You can hear him moaning in your ear, feel him twitching inside you, feel his hot cum coating your walls and there’s just so fucking much of it. You swear he cums for a minute straight before he slumps down onto you, burying his face in your neck as you pant.
You’re shaking and so is he, breaths heaving in and out. Reality slowly starts to seep back in, even with his dick still softening inside you and his cum leaking down your thighs.
You tried to kill him. You failed. You had sex. Now what? Would he really let you go like he’d said he would? You wanted to believe it, but life hadn’t taught you to be that trusting. You should move, untangle yourself from him and escape before he has time to change his mind.
“You assassins are always thinking so hard,” He mumbles into the curve of your neck. “Maybe you should try to relax for once.”
You swallow when you feel him pressing his lips to your throat, trailing up to your jaw. It’s… tender, gentle, and it feels so nice. You can’t help the way you melt into the touch a bit. You feel him smile into your skin. “There we go.”
His hand settles on your waist, rubbing soothing little circles that send a jolt of urgency up your spine. No. You’re enjoying this– being close to him, laying here with him, breathing him in. That’s not what this is supposed to be.
You tense again, shifting to get away from him, but he only sighs and presses his weight onto you.
“Come on, gorgeous. No need to leave so soon. Just stay for a bit, yeah?” He nibbles at your jaw, but it doesn’t work this time. You have to go. You’ve failed your mission. You don’t know what that means for your brother. You’d never thought this would have an ending besides your death.
“I have to go,” you mutter, pushing at his chest.
He chuckles, but you don’t miss the strain and… hurt? “Got something more important than trying to kill me?”
You clench your teeth, trying once again to shove him away. “Yes, actually.”
He finally pulls back to meet your gaze, brows slightly pinched. “Like what?”
You push in earnest now, anger and panic rising in your gut. You have to go, have to check on your brother, have to figure out what you’re going to do. “That’s really none of your business,” you seethe.
You go for another shove, but strong hands clasp around your wrists, pinning them to the bed. His expression has gone flat now, serious. “Actually, I think it’s completely my business. You going to report your failure? Should I expect another assassin soon?”
You scowl, tugging at his grasp and trying to free yourself. “Yeah, probably. He’s an insufferable idiot. I told him it wouldn’t work and it didn’t, but I don’t doubt he’ll send another.”
His face cracks, his brows pulling together again. “If you knew it wouldn’t work then why’d you take the job?”
You struggle again, less angry and more desperate now. “Because he’s got my fucking brother at gunpoint and I’ve got to figure out how the fuck I’m going to save him!” you shout.
There’s silence for a long moment– a long, uncomfortable beat of it– and then his expression softens into something… tender. It sends a chill up your spine. Satoru Gojo was never supposed to be tender with you, and that’s all he’s been.
“I’ll save him,” he says. Your heart jumps and his grip on your wrists loosens, allowing you to slip free.
“What?” you breathe. He sits back, allowing you to prop yourself up into a slightly less vulnerable position.
He exhales slowly, but you don’t miss the way his hand settles on your bare thigh, a comforting weight. “I’ll save your brother and then I’ll take care of your boss.” A smirk creeps across his lips. “What? Don’t think I can do it?”
You stare blankly, lips parted. There’s no doubt he can do it, but that’s not the question swirling in your mind.
“Why would you help me?” You’d tried to kill the man. You couldn’t make heads or tails of a reason why he’d go out of his way to help you.
He chuckles. “Well, in case you didn’t know, I’m a hero of sorts.” You have to fight not to roll your eyes. “And… there’s something I want from you.”
There it is– the catch. He wants something. You have no idea what you could possibly have to give him, but you’re willing for it to be just about anything. You narrow your eyes. “What?”
He grins, but you can see the glint of mischief in his gaze. His hand slides further up your thigh, up your side, over your shoulder, until it rests at the nape of your neck and his face is only inches from your own. “What’s your number, gorgeous?”
taglist (dm me or send an ask to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina, @fushironi, @enchantedsylveon, @keiva1000, @complexivelovely, @httpstoyosi, @bbyxxm, @6kabuki.
link: 1k followers event
please consider leaving a comment, sending an ask, or reblogging! interacting with authors is the best way to support them! thanks for reading ♡
#bree’s fics#jjk#jjk x reader smut#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojou x reader#satoru gojo#gojou satoru x y/n#jjk gojou#gojou satoru x you#satoru gojou#jujutsu kaisen gojo#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#jujutsu gojo#gojo smut#gojo saturo#jujustu kaisen#jujutsu satoru#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojou satoru#jujutsu kaisen#tw: organized crime#tw: attempted murder
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
pairing: rafe cameron x fem!kook!reader
summary: rafe surprises you on your birthday
warnings: best friends brother, sarah being the worst friend ever (what else is new?), crying, firting over the phone, oral (m receiving), throat fucking, unprotected sex
word count: 2.8k
a/n: i’ve seen your comments and ik y’all want reader to stick up for herself against sarah, so don’t worry that’s in the works!! i’ve been feeling a little sick but i’m going to try to keep up with requests as best as i can <3 mini series masterlist can be found here
“is everything okay?” ignoring the fact that sarah just cancelled your plans, on your birthday, you refused to hang up the phone without getting a conversation that lasted less than two minutes. “w-what do you mean?” you heard the faint sound of someone laughing in the background, a door shutting loudly on the other line. “you’ve never missed any of my birthdays, and tonight you cancel after reassuring me all week that you’d see me? not to mention two weeks ago when we were supposed to go on the druthers, you said you’d be back home later, but you never showed.” you hated how you sounded like a concerned parent more than a friend, but right now you just wanted answers.
“everything is fine, y/n,” sarah scoffed, “i mean, seriously, i’ve just been busy, alright?” you don’t know if you should feel relieved that she’s fine, or hurt because she’s obviously not interested in talking to you right now. with ward, rose, and wheezie out of the house for the summer, there was no valid explanation as to why she goes days, sometimes weeks without being home. unless of course, rafe was right about her spending all her time on the cut. “have you been staying on the other side of the island?” you couldn’t help but ask, the question lingering in your mind since rafe mentioned it two weeks ago. “oh, my god! do i have to tell you everything? you’re worse than topper.” she hung up before you could say anything else.
what the fuck?
she’s acting as if she has never been like this before. was it a crime that you were worried about your best friend who you haven’t seen in three weeks? sarah once showed up to your house at three in the morning because you sent a crying emoji instead of a laughing one. it’s hard to think about, the person she was then, versus now. you felt your eyes stinging, your vision getting blurry as the tears threatened to overflow. god, this was pitiful. if someone told you that you’d be here, your hair and makeup done for the gods, holding back tears because of sarah, you wouldn’t believe them. the amount of things that have changed this past month was starting to crash down on you at once.
with sarah gone, and your parents away for their anniversary trip, the last thing you wanted to do was wander in a party by yourself. ultimately deciding to stay in for the night, you laid out your pajamas, about to unzip your dress before your phone rang. unknown caller. “hello?” there was a few beats of silence, “y/n?” your heart fluttered instantly. “hey, rafe.” you sniffled, trying to clear any indication that you’ve been keeping yourself from crying. “what are you doing tonight?” his voice turned rough. “i was just about to get in my pajamas.. why?” he cleared his throat, a small seed of hope burying itself in your chest. “let’s go to mine. i have something for you.” as if you couldn’t smile any harder, you could count on rafe to beat the odds. “what if i said no?” you teased, knowing you could never say that to him.
“then i’d have to go home to an empty house and no birthday girl to give birthday dick to.” you sighed dreamily, eyes glancing up at your ceiling. “aren’t you the gentlemen?” you got up, thankful to see that none of your makeup smudged. “so where are you right now?” you reapplied your lip gloss, running a brush through your hair for the final time. “outside your house.” you paused. “are you really?” you peeked outside your window, a black truck sitting out front. “i’ll be right out.” you hung up, screaming excitedly, grabbing your purse before making your way outside. rafe met you half way, picking you up and putting you in the passenger seat.
“you’re telling me you were about to change out of this?” his hands rested on your hips, your head leaning against the seat. “yeah, but i rather you take it off of me instead.” he smiled, pulling you into a kiss. “i rather do that too.” he shut the door, the car ride back to his house consisting of him making you laugh. “why’s it so dark in here?” rafe lead you upstairs, skipping past his room. “where are we going..” you stopped in your tracks. “ward’s room?” you shook your head, feeling like you were trespassing in some weird way. “don’t worry, keep walking.” he opened the doors to the balcony, the breath being sucked right out of your lungs.
a small cake with pink frosting and the number twenty in gold accents sat in a little box on top of the table, a vase full of your favorite flowers right next to it. “how..” you turned around, rafe rubbing his hands against his jeans. “i knew it was your birthday today, which explains the cake, and i may or may not have stalked your instagram highlights for any flowers i could find.” you blinked, throwing yourself in his arms. “this means so much to me, rafe. thank you.” you let out a shaky breath, your emotions getting the best of you once he pulled back to cup your face. “hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he sat you down, his eyes flickering between yours. “i just wasn’t expecting any of this, i’m just really grateful that’s all.” you smiled.
rafe nodded, pulling a small gift bag from under the table. “i really want to see you open this.” he placed the bag in your lap, giving you a reassuring nod when you looked at him. with shaky hands, you removed the pink tissue paper, a velvet box revealing itself at the bottom. rafe adjusted in his seat, his eyes frantically moving between you and the gift. “rafe..” you opened the box, immediately being met with probably the best gift you’ve ever received. “i’ve heard you talk about this a lot, so i figured why not?” he shrugged, “do you like it?” he watched you pick up the silver bookmark, the words ‘pretty girl’ imprinted in cursive lettering on the back.
“i love it..” you truly had no other words. placing it gently inside the box, you got up, rafe pulling you on top of him, both of you smiling into a kiss. how did he know how to do this? make you feel special and wanted and appreciated all at the same time? you deepened the kiss, his hand squeezing your thigh. “should we cut the cake?” you hummed, shaking your head, “let’s save it for after.” rafe pulled away. “after what?” his hand snaked around your neck, “after you give me birthday dick, your words.” you yelped when he suddenly yanked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you inside. “can i confess something?” he walked through the dark hallway, basically kicking open his room door.
you nodded, leaving a trail of kisses across his neck. once he laid you down, he took off his flannel, his biceps flexing under the small light emitting from his bathroom. “i’ve been reduced to fucking my hand every night since we had sex on the druthers. “all i could think about these past couple of weeks is how perfect you look under and on top of me,” he spoke quietly, “have you been thinking about it too?” his shirt was next to go, and the harder it was to resist from moaning at the sight of him. “yes,” you sat up, pulling him down to sit at the edge of his bed, “..that night replays in my head everyday.” settling between his legs, your fingers worked at getting his belt off.
“but the thought occurred to me one night;” you slid his belt out of the loops of his jeans, “you’ve tasted me already, but i haven’t tasted you.” as if on cue, you placed his belt next to him, using his knees to anchor yourself back on your feet. he groaned, watching as you moved your hair to the side. “take my dress off?” you turned around, unknowingly facing the mirror on his wall. without hesitation, he unzipped your dress, his eyes growing dark as he looked at your shared reflection. “nothing underneath?” this was a bold move for you, so you were more than happy to see how much he liked the idea of you walking around, ready for him to take you at anytime.
“nope, just wanted to save you the time.” you smiled, his hands cupping your tits, a soft gasp escaping from your lips. “we have all the time in the world.” he gently bit the skin of your neck, spinning you around. he pulled you down with him, your hips straddling his as you unbottoned his jeans. “i like your makeup,” rafe’s rubbed his palms on your thighs, “such a shame it’s gonna get ruined.” you smiled, rafe sitting up to kiss you roughly. kneeling on the floor, rafe held your hair back as you looked up at him, palming his cock through his briefs. “you gonna let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours?” he grunted, your eyes fluttering, “mhmm.” you hummed, rafe extending his hand out in front of your mouth.
“spit, baby.” he commanded. doing as he said, you laid your head on his lap, watching as he started stroking himself, both of you gazing at eachother with heated stares. “please, rafe.” he moaned, his head lolling to the side. he was still tugging on your hair, the stinging sensation shooting down your spine. he stood up, discarding the last article of clothing keeping you from being fucked into oblivion. you opened your mouth for him, a string of curse words tumbling out as his tip met your tongue. “oh, fuck,” be gritted his teeth. you straightened up, making sure to keep your eyes on his, a moan rumbling in your throat as he pushed further.
rafe licked his lips, his chest rising and falling as you started bobbing your head. if you had to be on your knees just to see the way he fell apart with your mouth alone, you’d do it all night if he asked you to. your eyes started to water, rafe smiling at the sight. “tap me if you need to.” he pulled out, thrusting back in once you nodded. fuck. your hands flew out, holding the back of his knees as he tugged at your hair, hard. “you’re taking it so fucking good,” his muscles constricted, your pussy clenching around nothing. the only word you could think of to describe the noises in this room was obscene.
heavy breathing, gasping and moaning, even an occasional whimper when you swallowed around his cock. “y/n-” he shook his head, his eyes rolling back just as you patted his leg. rafe stopped all movements, pulling out of your mouth with a wet pop. “i don’t want you to cum yet,” you stood up, your knees beet red as he pressed his thumb against your bottom lip. “yeah? want me to fill you up instead?” his words went straight to your core, a single tear drop rolling down your cheek. “yes.” your voice was hoarse as he laid you down, your arms wrapping around his neck to kiss him.
rafe teased your entrance before sliding between your folds, his cock rubbing against your clit. you shivered at the contact, your hips chasing his in order to get more friction. “it’s going to be hard to stop doing this, you know,” rafe looked down at you. “i wouldn’t care about sarah’s opinion on this, and i don’t think you should either.” he stared at you intensely as you pondered over his words. “you wouldn’t care about her opinion on us having sex? or..” your heart was racing, hoping he’d pick up on what you were insinuating. “well, that too, but i mean something more, more than us just sneaking around.” you met his eyes, a small smile gracing your lips.
“are you asking me to be your girlfriend?” rafe laughed. “no- well, yes, but not formally yet, i want to do that the right way, not when you’re under me waiting for me to fuck you.” you bit your lip, nodding your head. you could never get used to how good his body felt on top of yours, your toes curling as he pinned down your thighs. “you’re so fucking beautiful,” he kissed your temple, “this pussy was made for me.” rafe slammed into you once you settled into his sheets, a strangled cry ripping itself from your throat. it didn’t help that rafe was already filling you to the hilt, but watching his mouth fall open, and his eyebrows knit together was just as rewarding.
any concept of time was lost when you were with him, but you knew you didn’t want this to end. you loved how intimate rafe was, swallowing your moans with every kiss, massaging your thighs when he would thrust into you particularly hard, he was so good at this, you couldn’t even think straight by the time you were teetering the edge of pure bliss. “rafe, don’t stop.” you held onto his frame, his fingers circling your clit as you felt the pit of your stomach drop. “o-oh, my god,” you shook in his hold. “rafe!” you gasped. “i know,” he moaned, “fucking hell, i know.” his hips stuttered as he cummed, his eyes screwing shut while he emptied himself inside of you.
he took your lips, still thrusting slowly as he steadied you through the aftershocks of your orgasm. eventually he came to a stop, both of you laying under the sheets. “did you mean what you said earlier?” you rolled over, facing rafe as he sighed sleepily. “about being something more? yes.” you smiled as rafe took your hand in his, placing a soft kiss on your knuckles. “should we go for that cake?” you asked. “that sounds so good right now.” both of you got up, sharing the sheets as cover, about to leave the room until your phone started ringing. rafe was quick to pick it up from the floor, his jaw ticking as he looked at the screen.
“who is it?” you reached out, rafe blocking your attempt to grab your phone. “it’s sarah.” he declined the call, tossing your phone on the bed behind him. “come on, let’s go get that cake.” he ushered you towards the door before you stopped him. “it’s nearly three in the morning, rafe. she could be in trouble.” he stared at you for a moment, sighing as he nodded his head. “alright.” he stepped away. you pressed sarah’s contact, putting the call on speaker. she picked up after the third ring. “y/n?” you knew that voice. after fourteen years of being best friends, you knew when she was crying, even when she wasn’t in front of you.
“what’s wrong sarah, are you okay?” you stole a glance at rafe, ignoring the roll of his eyes. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry y/n. i haven’t been a good friend, and i’ve been keeping so much from you, my family… topper, i can’t handle all the lies anymore.” you felt yourself growing with empathy, rafe taking hold of your arm. “don’t fall for that shit!” he whispered. “i didn’t even tell you happy birthday!” sarah sobbed, “please let me make this up to you.” you don’t know why, but you looked up at rafe, who was shaking his head. taking a deep breath, you racked your brain for what you should do.
the fact that you had sarah on the phone, while standing in rafe’s room, naked at that, you felt like you were betraying one of them with either answer you gave. if you told sarah yes, then it would be like a slap to the face for rafe, but if you told sarah no, you’d be throwing away a friendship that grew into a sisterhood over the years. “we could have a movie night. for old times sake.” she sniffled, your own tears starting to well in your eyes. “y/n.” rafe stroked your hair. this wasn’t easy, at all. “okay.” you regretted it as soon as you said it, rafe’s hand falling to his side. “okay, that sounds good.” it pained you to see the way rafe was looking at you right now.
“friday at eight?” you gave her a quick ‘yes, i’ll see you.’ hanging up shortly afterwards. “rafe-” he slipped into some shorts, walking out of the room without a word. there was no winning in this situation. you plopped down on the bed, still wrapped in rafe’s sheets as you sat in silence. after about five minutes, rafe walked in with two plates of cake. he handed you one, sitting down next to you. “i won’t hold it against you,” he spoke up, “i just wish you could see what she’s doing.” you licked some frosting off of your finger. “i’m sorry.” you leaned your head on his shoulder. rafe hummed, “don’t be. i’ll let you find out by yourself, and i’ll be there with an extra plate for you when you do.” he rubbed your thigh.
you laughed to yourself. “thank you.”
#‧₊˚✩彡 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒#outer banks#outer banks netflix#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe outer banks#rafe smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron blurb#rafe x reader#rafe cameron brainrot#drew starkey#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x kook!reader#rafe core#rafe coded#rafe obx#rafe imagine#rafe fanfiction#rafe x you#outer banks rafe#rafe fic#obx fic#obx fanfiction#obx smut
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
drunk confession
pairing: thomas shelby x reader
warnings: alcohol consumption, slight nsfw
summary: thomas shelby walks into your bedroom in the middle of the night and confesses his love for you.
you awoke from your slumber after hearing the door to your room suddenly open in the middle of the night.
you felt your heart pound through your chest, scared that it was one of billy kimber’s men, ordered to harm you as a way to get back at the peaky blinders.
but you needn’t fret for it was only thomas shelby.
thomas was the leader of birmingham’s renowned gang, the peaky blinders, and the second eldest son of the shelby family.
you knew him when he was a young lad. he used to be a troublemaker, always bringing trouble everywhere he went. he laughed a lot too.
you, on the other hand, used to be a loner. you didn’t have a single friend whatsoever. you were always alone, a sad look plastered on your face as you watched other kids getting along and playing with each other. young tommy felt bad for you, therefore, offered to let you play with him and his siblings. from then on, you became close and formed a bond, not only with him, but with his siblings too.
it was sad how much things have changed after the war in france.
the horrors of the war had changed him drastically.
he became a soulless, empty shell.
but there was one thing that didn’t change, and that was his feelings for you.
he always felt a sense of peace whenever you were around. you were a breath of fresh air and a reminder of his childhood days, where he hadn’t gone to the war yet, where he didn’t live a life of crime, where everything was normal.
he didn’t want to admit it, though. he was never good at expressing himself…
…until tonight.
“tommy!” you gasped. “why are you here?”
“because i can.” he said nonchalantly.
“just because you can doesn’t mean you should.” you huffed in frustration.
he shrugged.
“how did you get in my house?”
“key under your doormat.” he drawled, approaching you drunkenly.
you let out a squeak as he collapsed on your bed, nearly crushing your legs.
“okay, congratulations for knowing where i keep my house key, but that doesn’t give you the right to just barge in my house.” you looked at the clock on your wall, checking the time. “especially at three in the morning, you dimwit!”
“‘m sorry… it’s just… i’ve been thinking about you.. a lot– actually, an unhealthy amount. i couldn’t help it. i just wanted to see you again.”
“what?” you blinked.
“you heard me.”
“yes, i did, but…” that was unexpected. “what exactly do you mean by that?”
“by god, woman.” he sat up and you flinched when he started to yell. “how fucking oblivious are you? i’m in love with you, for fuck’s sake!–“
you covered his mouth, shushing him, trying to get him to calm down. you were already dealing with a drunk thomas, who barged into your home uninvited, and the last thing you wanted was to deal with noise complaints from your neighbors.
“please, quiet down, will you?”
he grabbed your wrist, prying your hand off his mouth and guiding your hand to his cheek. he closed his eyes, sighing in bliss, reveling in the warmth of your touch.
“tommy.” you muttered under your breath.
“i mean it, (y/n). i love you. i’ve loved you ever since we were kids.”
was it true?
was it really true?
well, you were aware of the saying: “drunk words are sober thoughts”
and that made your face heat up.
“i–“ you gulped, trying to build up the courage to confess, so he didn’t think it was one-sided. “–i love you too, tommy. i’ve loved you ever since you offered to let me play with you when i had no one to play with.” you moved your thumb up and down his cheekbone. “you may be a dangerous gangster to the world, but you’re just tommy to me. my tommy. you think you’ve changed, but deep inside, that innocent, kind-hearted little boy is still there.”
thomas’ lips curved up, a genuine smile on his face.
you widened your eyes.
it had been so long since he smiled in such a way that you had forgotten just how beautiful it was.
he leaned towards your face and connected your lips together. you were caught off guard, but happily obliged and kissed him back.
he tasted like a mix of cigarettes and whisky. nonetheless, it was amazing.
he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. he entwined your fingers together and with his other hand, he pulled your body against his.
he proceeded to gently place you on your back, with him on top of you, not breaking the kiss for a second.
“fuck, i love you.” he said in between kisses. “i love you so much. i’ve been dreaming about this moment my whole life.“
he roamed his hands around your body whilst you raked yours through his hair.
he pulled away just to get a quick glimpse of your messy appearance before reconnecting your lips.
he slithered a hand under your nightgown and you moaned as his fingers made contact with your clothed clit, rubbing it through your undergarment until a wet patch formed.
he moved your nightgown up to your stomach, fiddling with the elastic band of your undergarment, and yanked it off. he reached down to touch your bare pussy, inserting two fingers inside. with how wet you were, he was able to put them in with ease.
your moans were becoming louder each time he thrusted and curled his fingers against your walls, so you clasped a hand on your mouth to prevent any more noise from spilling out.
he stopped and demanded, “no, let me hear.”
“my neighbors–“
“if they even think about coming here and ruining this, i’ll fucking send them six feet under.”
he scooted backwards, placing his head in between your legs. you could feel his hot breath hitting your core and your core clenched. he darted his tongue out, licking a long stripe up your clit, before attaching his entire mouth onto it. he sucked harshly, eating you out like he was a man starved, making your eyes roll back at the insane amount of pleasure he was giving you.
your vision turned white as the coil inside of you intensified into a powerful ball of energy. and then it bursted, the ecstasy setting all your nerves ablaze.
it felt good, so so good.
he crawled back on top of you, kissing you, letting you taste yourself.
then, he pulled away once more to admire his work.
he loved the way you looked beneath him.
how swollen your lips were.
how breathless you were.
how red your cheeks were.
he loved knowing that your current appearance was caused by him and only him. rightfully so.
“all for me, eh?”
his deep, sultry voice sent shivers down your spine.
“all for you, tom.”
note: help, my unexperienced ass doesn’t fucking know how to write nsfw content. this is so bad.
#thomas shelby#thomas shelby x reader#thomas shelby x you#thomas shelby smut#peaky blinders#peaky blinders x reader#peaky blinders fanfic#cillian murphy#cillian murphy x reader#childhood friends to lovers#peaky fookin blinders#peaky blinders smut#tommy shelby#tommy shelby x reader#thomas shelby imagine#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinders one shot
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕
✿𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Jungkook x Reader
✿ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: The one where everytime you get dumped you pretend that you never met the guy before to mess with their heads. To the point that if you run into them somewhere you reintroduce yourself and act like you’ve never seen each other before.
Enters fuckboy Jungkook who disappears after your night together, not knowing how much he was about to regret that choice.
✿ 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔: Romance, Humor, Fluff, Angst, College AU
✿ 𝑨/𝑵: I’m truly sorry for this sad excuse of an update.
(Fanfic masterlist)
(support me on my ko-fi)
°•. ✿ .•°
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 - 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐲, 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬
(<<< part one)
“I can’t believe you’re doing this again” Jane’s voice rang through the phone as you walked down the streets towards your desired coffee spot.
You also couldn’t believe you were doing that again. You tried your best to live your life with no regrets, but men made it very hard.
“Have you seen him since he fled the crime scene?”
“Stop calling it a crime scene” you snapped.
“Well, have you?”
Your silence was enough of an answer. No, you had not seen or heard from Jungkook since he ran away from your bedroom in the dead of night, leaving behind only the smell of cologne and, funnily enough, a single sock. When you woke up that day to an empty bed, sheets crumbled and a mattress indented on the side where he had slept, all you could muster was a tired sigh of disappointment.
And to be completely honest, you were disappointed with yourself, not Jungkook. You expected nothing less than a quick escape of him. But you should’ve known better than to hope for anything. Despite everything, you were still an idealist at heart and you thought that maybe just this once…
You shook your head obstinately. You had learned early on that no good would come from moping around for men who would never once feel any regret for their thoughtless actions and if your pain were to be always one sided, then it was better not to feel any at all. Not to dwell on it, move on, learn from it and be better. Or be worse, sometimes, as self-improvement was not always your goal.
Sometimes, you chose to listen to the tiny revengeful angel on your shoulder - who kind of sounded like Taylor Swift - that screamed for violence and vindication.
As your failed relationships started to pile up, you did reach a point where you had to wonder if you were the problem, as it was the canonical event of all 20 something women. But observation, therapy, critical thinking and hereditary pettiness brought you to the decision that it was not, in fact, your fault. At least not all of it.
With that in mind, you left only the smallest of time slots in your booked and busy schedule to ponder and grieve over the fickle nature of boys’ interests. You had better, more important things to do, such as mindlessly scroll through Minecraft/AITA videos and save pilates routines that you were never gonna do.
Still, in an experience intrinsically feminine, you allowed yourself a little treat to cope with the slight burn of despondency in the back of your mind.
And so you directed yourself to the bougie coffee house near campus, hoping to drown your sorrows with an aggressively sweet and overly caffeinated drink.
“You should slash his tires”
“Jane, please, we have talked about this.”
“You should totally slash his fucking tires!"
"Saying it louder is not gonna make me agree with you! Jane…"
Suddenly your eyes found Jungkook's across the room filled to the brim with depressed, financially irresponsible students, making you pause and hold back the urge to curl your lips in distaste. It bothered you that even with scared eyes as big as saucers and hunched shoulders to appear smaller, Jungkook still managed to look good.
But you knew better than to let him know how much his presence and pretty face annoyed you. Boys like Jungkook only cared about having an impact on people’s life, very rarely caring if it was good or bad. He wanted a reaction out of you and you learned better than to give those away so carelessly.
So you frowned and looked away, the words practiced on your lips as you said “Some guy is staring at me.”
Jane laughed loudly on the phone “You’re a psycho, you know that?”
“I don’t know who it is, Jane, some dude” you stole a quick glance at him, finding vengeful glee at his shocked expression.
“Send me a pic of his reaction, I’m posting it on TikTok.”
You continued playing your part, ignoring your sister’s interruptions as you usually did “Of course I’m carrying a taser, Jane, I’m not an animal…”
“I’ll give you 5 bucks to tase him.”
“You know what, this coffee is not even worth the visual harassment, God I hate men…”
You walked out of the coffee house, hand empty but with a fulfilled sick sense of accomplishment as you stepped out into the street with a shit-eating grin.
“I hope you know what you’re doing” Jane said and you could hear the smile in her voice. Out of your two sisters, Jane was never the one to tell you to not do something, preferring to let you make your own mistakes.
And boy, did you.
You left your big, beautiful, tattooed mistake behind you, ready to move on to something less prone to disappointment, such as fictional men and your Stardew Valley husband “Dont worry” you told your sister “I don’t.”.
—
“What are you doing?” Jungkook asked, left eye twitching slightly at your unbothered expression.
After your confusing exit from the coffee shop and a good amount of jabs from his friends, Jungkook had to hunt you down across campus, finding you sitting under a tree with a book in your hands, looking way too peaceful for someone who just had humiliated him.
You looked down at your book with an arched eyebrow “Kegels, clearly. Why?”
“No, I mean…” Jungkook’s frustration was rising by the second, the vein on his neck jumping out “Why are you acting like you don’t know me?”
You frowned.
“Do I know you?” you asked, face doubtful.
“We have classes together?”
You blinked, impassive.
“We went on a date?”
A head shake.
“We slept together!”
“Nope, can’t say it rings any bells.”
That’s it. Jungkook was actually convinced you were clinically insane.
“How can you not remember?”
“How can I remember something that never happened?”
“But it did! You’re crazy! I chased you for weeks!”
You smiled, a trap.
“So, you're, like, in love with me?” you ask, tone condescending.
Jungkook scoffed and you weren’t sure if it was at the idea of love or loving you. “No, of course not.”
“So in this dream scenario of yours, we had sex but we weren’t together?”
“Trust me, this” he gestured between the two of you “is no dream scenario.”
“Well, aren’t you a charmer” you crossed your arms in front you, defensive “Let me get this straight. You, allegedly, chased me for weeks, but don’t really like me. Then, we had casual, out-of-relationship sex and then what? You banged my head against the headboard so hard I completely forgot about it? Your story is full of holes, my dude.”
You had to fight back the urge to smirk, energy spiking from feeding off of Jungkook’s stupefied confusion.
Nail in the coffin, you shrugged, turning your eyes back to your book “Maybe you weren’t that memorable and my mind deleted you like a childhood trauma.”
A slight left eye spasm was all the reaction you got at first, evolving to the pursing of pouty lips and the clenching of fists.
“You are insane” he said at last after seconds of turning clogs in his barely filled mind.
“Finally you said something true.”
Jungkook was equally bewildered and furious. He didn’t know what your deal was or what you were getting out of this, but your refusal to admit you had sex pissed him off deeply considering how much time and effort he put into getting you together.
“Also, I have to ask” you continued, clearly not done with your pursuit of driving him up the wall “what was your goal with this conversation? Chasing me for weeks to then sleep with me and then come here and tell me you’re not actually interested in me, but being upset when I don’t remember something that didn’t happen… What’s the point?”
Jungkook paused. Truly, he didn’t have much of an end goal in mind, actions fueled only by a bruised ego and a childish, borderline pathological need to prove himself.
When he didn’t answer, you stood up and gathered your things, keeping your head down to hide your poorly concealed satisfaction “I’ll let you ponder on that” you said “Don’t worry about reaching out with an answer, though.”
Finally, you looked up at him, face masked with faux awkwardness. “Anyway. Nice to meet you, I guess? No, actually, not really, this was weird as shit. You seem to have some things to figure out. Get help and take care, my dude.”
And so you left, leaving behind only a cloud of your bergamot perfume and a perplexed Jungkook blinking owlishly.
There was a sudden influx of thoughts rushing through his usually much less busy mind, the general tone of confusion ringing amongst humiliation and frustration.
When Jungkook first set his greedy eyes on you, he had an inkling that you’d be a handful and in the beginning, you truly were. You took pleasure in making everything much more difficult for him, running from his presence like the plague and approaching the whole subject of him like one would the subject of warts - reluctantly and with caution.
And if he were honest, he wasn’t too sure on why he insisted, but one would be surprised at how far Jungkook would escalate things out of spite and resentment.
It was that same sick combination of flavors that drove him insane for weeks, moving him to pester you until you gave him a chance. And he took it, lord, did he take it.
That night, he made every possible effort to please you, cloaked in his best, non-ranch stained clothes and best non-arrogant behavior.
And when morning came and he opened up his eyes before you did, tired out from the epitome of his bestest behavior, there was a moment of quiet as he watched you eyelids flutter delicately, soft arm draped lightly over his waist.
The night before had been… Fun, he thought, even before you had reached your bedroom. You were weird and used a bunch of words he didn’t know, but you also made him laugh and listened to him babbling about his interest without once looking bored, even going as far as asking questions about his farfetched MCU theories.
And despite your many (too many to count, insurmountable really) differences, you had… Chemistry, one could call it. Thick chemistry, palpable tension, pushing you towards each other despite your previous attempts to go the other way.
But no amount of chemistry could break Jungkook’s routine as inertia pushed him out of your bed, practiced steps light as feathers as he escaped your apartment with one last look to your sleeping form and somehow one less sock on his feet.
And as he left, there was an undiagnosed pounding in his heart he tried to chalk off as the result of his Dorito and monster drink based diet, but his eyes kept flashing back to where you rested even when he was miles away.
He tried to make sense of your persistent presence in the back of his mind. You were cool, he’d give you that. Hot too. But it didn’t matter how your body fit his like they were manufactured together or how your passive aggressive way of flirting (or insulting, he had a hard time telling them apart with you) never failed to steal a snort from his lips. And yeah, it was kind of nice when you called him cute everytime he didn’t understand something you said. It brought a blush to his cheeks and wild butterflies to his stomach, because… Well, no one had ever called him cute after middle school. Hot? Yes. Sexy? Once a week. Biggest dick ever? Yes, both meanings.
But not cute. And deep down, under layers of aggressively oversized shirts and muscles… Jungkook kind of liked being cute.
Jungkook shook that thought away. Despite all that, you were a point he had to make.
And he did! Point proven and undisputed, up until you looked at him like he was a silly little kid throwing a tantrum (which he kind of was) and questioned him and his sanity,
But Jungkook was obstinate and, even more, the sorest of losers. He had proven himself once and would again! He was a man on a mission, he decided, watching you walk away from him while mouthing the words “I’ll pray for you!”. And the mission was to either send you into a psychiatric hospital or get you back into his bed.
And if the butterflies in his stomach fluttered excitedly at that second prospect, he didn’t allow himself to ponder on it for a single second.
°•. ✿ .•°
[Taglist: @artsxpe ; @010op10 ; @ladysandy ; @707sblog ; @notvantaes ; @borahaeb1ch ; @akshstudios ; @beautyiisterror ; @lovelycammy ; @mushysunrise-deactivated2022030 ; @hani0407]
My taglists are open! Click here to be added <3
[Permanent taglist: @imknewattis ; @dreamamubarak ; @onlythebest-106 ;@betysotelo18 ; @havetaeminforbreakfast ; @uno7 ; @chimchimmarie ; @anaya123world ; @junecat18 ]
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
Tim and stpeh’s top ten patrol fails
——— (10) ———
Tim and Steph: *chained together*
Two-Face: *monologues*
Tim: *picks the lock*
Steph, whispering: Free me first.
Tim: Why?
Steph: Just do it.
Tim: *frees her*
Steph: *sprints past Two-Face to the bathroom*
——— (9) ———
Steph: I'm closing in on the museum. Where are you?
Tim: ETA one minute.
Steph: Alright, I'm doing a quick perimeter check. Doesn't seem like there's much happening here.
Tim: Where are you? I don't see you. And this entire gallery looks deserted.
Steph: I've never heard anyone call a science museum a gallery.
Tim: Science? I'm at the modern art museum.
Steph: Red?
Tim: Yeah?
Steph: We're both at the wrong place, aren't we?
——— (8) ———
Tim and Steph: *tied to chairs*
Ivy: I gave the city ONE REASONABLE DEMAND and they—
Steph: *scoots her chair*
Ivy: —but all they cared about was—
Steph: *scoots her chair*
Ivy: So now I'm going to make them pay for—what are you doing?
Steph, biting an apple: ...
Tim: She gets snacky.
——— (7) ———
[on a stakeout]
Tim, stifling a yawn: What time is it?
Steph: Half past one. Still nothing on the drop site. If you need some shut eye you can tell me.
Tim: Nah, I'll just use my phone.
Steph: *peers over his shoulder*
Steph: You're reading an adopted by Batman AU?
Tim: ...I was hacked. Just right now.
——— (6) ———
Steph: I could use a little backup.
Tim, shooting his grapple: I'm on my way. How many are there?
Steph: Four, though I bet more are hiding.
Tim: In that case, we better get you out of there instead of wasting time.
Tim: *swings by*
Tim: Grab on.
Steph: *grabs his legs and pulls his pants down*
——— (5) ———
Tim: What should I call my next contingency plan?
Steph: Fuck if I know.
[later]
Barbara: Alright, Tim, let's review your plan for...
Barbara: *squints*
Barbara: Everybody leave. I want to talk to Tim alone.
——— (4) ———
Tim: I'm not so sure about my disguise.
Steph, dressed like the 1980s: It's an 80s-themed roller derby. No way you can mess that up.
Tim: *shows up dressed like the 1880s*
Steph: I stand corrected.
——— (3) ———
Steph: You need to put that computer down. Have a Batburger.
Tim: No. I've almost got it. And don't try to distract me 'cause I've seen everything.
Steph, whispering under her breath: You haven't seen Superboy.
Kon: You called?
Tim: Oh for crying out loud.
——— (2) ———
Tim: *driving the Batmobile*
Steph: Hey, what does this button do?
Tim: NO DON'T THAT—
Steph: *hits the button*
Tim: *gets ejected*
——— (1) ———
Steph: Another successful patrol, if I say so myself.
Tim: All in a night's work.
Bruce: Where's Damian?
Tim: Huh?
Bruce: You were supposed to watch him.
Steph: Pfft, we knew that. He's right... uh...
Tim: We're just gonna—
Tim and Steph: *hop in the car and speed away*
——— (Honorable mention) ———
Steph: No sign of Robin at the dog shelter either. Did you locate his tracker?
Tim: It's offline. Best case scenario he just disabled it, but...
Steph: Oh God, we are in so much trouble.
Tim: Any other ideas?
Steph: Nope. I'm gonna get a drink of water real quick.
Steph: *goes into a store*
Steph: *comes back out with Damian*
Steph: Guess who I found trying to buy a butterfly knife?
Tim: I'll update Batman.
Tim, on the phone: Hey B, guess what?
Damian: *snatches the phone*
Damian: They abandoned me in Crime Alley!
Bruce: Red Robin, Spoiler, you're cleaning the lockers when you get back.
Tim: No wait—
Damian: *hangs up*
#tim drake#red robin#stephanie brown#spoiler#bruce wayne#batman#damian wayne#robin#barbara gordon#oracle#conner kent#superboy#two face#poison ivy#batfamily#batfam#batboys#batbros#batgirls#batkids#batsiblings#batman family#young justice#timsteph#incorrect batfamily quotes#incorrect quotes#incorrect dc quotes#dc comics#headcanon#long post
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
la apuesta part 2
pairing: college!miguel x fem reader
warnings: a bit of angst(?), oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v (safe sex is GREAT sex 🗣️💯), missionary, doggy
author’s note: i keep getting surprised by the fact that ppl actually like my drabbles 💀 but like always, thank you for supporting :))
word count: 4120 (lo siento, i got carried away 😰)
part one aqui :)
Miguel(DO NOT CALL): chula, please talk to me
received at 2:43 pm
Miguel(DO NOT CALL): can we just talk about what you think you might've heard?
received at 2:44 pm
Miguel(DO NOT CALL): please. i just wanna talk to you.
received at 2:45 pm
Miguel hadn't realized how effectively you'd infiltrated through his defenses until you had left, knowing that he'd probably never share another weird snack combination with you settling weird in his stomach. He was supposed to feel a sense of relief and accomplishment when Peter congratulated him and gave him the two hundred bucks, but he only felt the cereal he ate this morning forming into steel, only feeling the emptiness from not having you. He decided to put his pride to the side and head over to your dorm, just to try to explain his side of the situation.
You heard a knock on your door a couple minutes later but had a feeling it was Miguel, so you decided not to open the door. Your roommate glanced over at you, seeing the fetal position you were laying in and decided to open the door just a bit. "I don't know what the hell you did to her, but get the fuck out, O'Hara. What I do know is that she was too good for you to be messing around with in the first place, so you and Peter can go stick that blunt up your ass and choke on it," you heard her say, slamming the door in his face before walking back to your side of the room. You let out a small laugh, looking up at her as you sat up on the bed. "Thanks MJ," you whispered, letting out a small sigh as she embraced you in a hug. "Now, I've let you mope around the dorm for about a week now but let's go out. It doesn't have to be anything too serious, we can just go out to the mall if you want," she suggested, looking at you with a smile as she pulled away from the hug.
You and MJ walked through the mall a couple hours later, despite the fact that you'd only gotten one of those overpriced pretzels from Auntie Anne's, you still found yourself enjoying this without giving much thought to Miguel. That was, until you and MJ were sitting at the water fountain talking about which store to go next when you saw him talking with a girl. You wanted to be the better person, to be able to walk away from it, but you just couldn't help but feel the anger coursing inside of you. "You're a real piece of shit, you know that? It's one thing for you to treat me like I don't have any feelings and I'm just means to an end but it's another thing for you to go and talk to someone else after you came to my dorm room just a few hours ago!" You yelled at him, tears welling up in your eyes as you slapped him. You attracted the attention from other shoppers, but you didn't care, you wanted Miguel to feel just a second of the hurt you felt this past week.
MJ looked up at you as you walked back to her, leaving Miguel agape with his hand on his cheek, as a smile appeared on her face while she took a bite out of her pretzel. "I feel like a proud mom right now, y'know?" She said, laughing a bit as she hands you your pretzel. "It's just, I know that it was all just part of the bet, but a part of me wanted him to care," you admitted, taking a bite out of the pretzel as you tried to get Miguel out of your mind. "I know you're gonna wanna blame yourself and whatnot, but it wasn't your fault, it was his. He didn't deserve a minute of your company," she assured you, rubbing your knee before standing up.
You two continued to walk around in the mall, ending up at Sephora to look at overpriced makeup. "Walking out with 2 makeup products after spending 80 dollars has to be a federal crime," you murmured, looking at your receipt with a small groan. "Not a federal crime, capitalism," she said with a laugh, walking next to you as she looked through her own receipt with a small groan. "Okay, you're right. This has to be a federal crime somewhere," she finally muttered, shoving it in her pocket as you two walked around window shopping.
After seeing Miguel at the mall with that girl, you decided to get your priorities back in order. Your grades weren't necessarily slipping too badly, but you knew you could do better. You walked into the library, sitting down at one of the tables in the back and read through your textbook while highlighting some key points. You looked up when someone slammed something on the table, your annoyance only growing when you saw Peter sitting down in front of you. You weren't exactly his biggest fan given how immaturely he acted with MJ, but your distaste had grown even more when you found out he orchestrated the bet. You were about to pick up your stuff to leave before he grabbed your arm, making you sit back down.
"Just give me five minutes to explain, and I'll leave you alone after that," he said, letting your arm go as he folded his arms. You sighed but nodded, closing your book as you paid attention to him. "Look, Miguel might be an asshole for going through with the bet, but I made the suggestion. I was angry at you for swaying MJ's opinion about me and I took advantage of what he felt towards you," he said, his head dropping a bit in shame. You scoffed in surprise, shaking your head as you collected your books. "First of all, I never swayed MJ's opinion about you. Sure, I told her she should set some stricter boundaries when it comes to you but I never got in the middle of your relationship. And next time you have an issue with me, address it instead of having someone else do the work for you," you said, walking away from him.
You felt even angrier at Peter's explanation of the events, knowing he probably said that to make himself feel better about all this. You scoffed and heard your stomach grumble loudly, your cheeks flushing red when you saw that you'd attracted some attention from the students walking nearby. You walked into the cafeteria, trying to calm down as you headed into the lunch line. You glanced over at the available tables before your gaze fell on Miguel. Or more specifically, Miguel kissing the same blonde girl from the mall against one of the vending machines. You felt yourself growing angry, at Miguel for being a jerk and at yourself, for still caring about what he did with his tongue.
As you sat down at the tables with your cold pizza in hand, you couldn't help but start to wonder what was wrong with you. Why she deserved to be taken seriously while you were treated like your feelings didn't matter, like you were just the end objective to a goal. You felt someone's gaze on you and looked up to see Miguel staring at you, an indecipherable look in his eyes, as the girl next to him continued talking. The girl looked over at you with narrowed eyes, practically seething, before pulling Miguel for a kiss. You snapped out of it, feeling a bit sorry for the girl that she felt the need to do that out of jealousy before going back to eating your pizza.
You spent most of the semester focusing on your own work, spending time with your friends and MJ, and even if you did get asked out, you couldn't bring yourself to say yes and do all the work. Sure, Miguel hurt you deeply, but you didn't find any excitement in going on dates. Not like you did with him. Eventually, midterms were around the corner and you were assigned to work with Miguel for your biology project. Even if the idea made you want to drop out of college and never come back, you decided to be mature and be a good partner to Miguel.
You decided to stick behind when the class left after gaining permission from your professor to do a test run on the project assigned, since the idea of getting anything less than an A just didn't sit right. You walked into the supply closet, grabbing a few things before you heard the door close and lock. Before you had the chance to say anything, Miguel popped out and looked at you pleadingly. "Please, just let me talk and then I'll let you go," he said, his hands fidgeting by his sides like he had the urge to grab you but couldn't decide if it would be right. "What is it, Miguel?" you asked, putting down the instruments you were holding in your hand before you got the idea to smash a flask on his head.
"Look, I know I made a mistake and I'm sorry about that, but I can't sleep without you. I can't stop thinking about you, it's haunting my mind," he said, looking into your eyes as you laughed bitterly. "Isn't that the understatement of the century? You seemed perfectly fine when I saw you exchanging saliva in the cafeteria a couple weeks ago," you replied, folding your arms as you waited for him to elaborate. "She doesn't mean anything to me. Not the way you do, I promise. I tried to get you out of my mind, I did, but despite everything, I still found myself falling in love with you," he said, holding your hands as he looked straight at you. "Is this just another part of a bet? Try to see how long I'll take to forgive you? I wonder what the wager is, 200?" you asked, taking your hands off him as you saw the look in his eyes shift into something disappointing. "I get that you still don't trust me, chula. but I'll make it up to you," he said after a moment of silence, kissing your hand before walking away.
Over the next couple days, you kept finding your favorite flowers scattered on your desk at school or on your front door with some memo along the lines of 'forgive me.' You couldn't help but feel slightly enraged at the fact that Miguel thought he could makeup for what he did with just measly flowers, so the bouquets ended up in the garbage most of the time. After Miguel noticed that you weren't responding to the flowers, he kept dropping letters in your notebooks or leaving them at your dorm expressing how sorry he truly felt. Eventually, those ended up in the trash as well after you started growing more and more agitated at how he just didn't understand that you wanted a genuine apology.
He stopped you on your way out your biology midterm, pulling you into an empty classroom as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "Okay, I see that most of my gestures aren't getting anywhere with you so I want to try something different. I want to apologize for the way that I acted towards you, treating you like you were just some end objective to a goal. At first, it did feel like that, but as I started to get closer to you, I fell in love with the person that you were. Look, I wish I could tell you why I chose to do that, but I can't. What I can tell you is that those two hundred dollars weren't anything compared to what it's like being in your company," he spoke after a couple seconds, his hands clasping yours as if he was begging you not leave just yet. "I want to trust you, I really do, but I can't. I can't let myself go through all that again," you spoke truthfully, your hands holding his tightly as he looked at you.
"Let's make a bet, yeah?" He asked, half a smile on his face as you stared at him, dumbfounded that he would even bring that idea up right now. In the middle of his apology speech. "I know it sounds stupid right now but hear me out, okay. If you agree to go on a date with me and you find yourself enjoying it, then you'll give me a chance to continue to prove myself to you. And if you don't enjoy it, then I'll leave you alone. How does that sound?" he suggested, letting your hands go as he gave you some time to think about it."You're right, that is the stupidest idea I've heard. But fine, I suppose I'll do it," you finally said after a couple minutes of consideration. You saw the look of surprise flicker in miguel's eyes before he broke out into a smile, kissing your hands. "Gracias, mi chula. I won't disappoint," he said before walking off out of the empty classroom, leaving you alone with your rampant thoughts.
The day of the date, you paced around your dorm as MJ stared at you, listening to your rambles. "What if this was a mistake? I mean, he already played me once so who's to say he won't do it again, y'know what I mean?" You said, looking up at her as you stopped your pacing for a moment. "So why'd you agree to it?" She asked, laying down on her stomach as she looked up at you. "I don't know, I guess I'm hoping that he's been truthful about this all because despite the fact that he hurt me and all that, I'm still in love with him," you admitted, sitting down on your bed as you looked over at her. "Well, that's as good of a reason as any to go," she replied, standing up to sit next to you as she placed her hand on your thigh, gently rubbing it as she tried to reassure you.
You heard a knock on your door a couple hours later as you finished up getting ready, feeling a bit anxious to see Miguel once more. You opened the door once you finished tying your shoes on, seeing Miguel dressed in one of those burgundy button down shirts he looks so good in but barely wears with a pair of black pants. His jaw dropped as he scratched the back of his neck nervously, before he gave you a smile. "Te ves hermosa, mi chula," he said, handing you a bouquet of flowers. You held the flowers up to your nose before going to set them back down, coming back to see MJ standing in the doorway now. "If she comes back with even one lash out of place, I will hunt you down," she threatened, the sight almost funny to you as you saw her looking up at him. You pressed your hand on her shoulder, giving her a reassuring smile before walking out of the door next to Miguel. (you look gorgeous, my pretty)
You and Miguel ended up on an aquarium date, since you briefly mentioned in the past that even though it was a bit cliché in your opinion, you always wanted to come on one. Miguel held your hand once you were at the front of the line, guiding you inside to where some of the pufferfish were. You took a chance to watch them swim around, your eyes drifting over to Miguel to see that he was staring at you, watching the way you took in everything around you. You two continued walking through the aquarium, staring at some of the different fish with you taking pictures and him dropping some random fish fact he'd read about when he was six.
"I cannot believe you prefer sharks over dolphins," Miguel said with a small laugh, folding his arms as he watched your nose scrunch up at the dolphin show. "You're telling me you prefer these menacing creatures over those cute little guys?" You asked, your brows slightly furrowed as you looked up at Miguel. "Well no, but it's still odd how you call an animal with five rows of teeth a 'cute little guy'," he said, nudging your shoulder gently as he laughed. Despite the fact that you'd convinced yourself you were gonna try to make this difficult for Miguel, you couldn't help but be reminded of the guy you fell in love with here at the aquarium.
You and Miguel continued walking around the aquarium a bit before you reached to the manta-ray petting area. "Please?" You asked, your bottom lip forming into a pout as you saw the look on his face when you both got there. He let out an exasperated sigh as he rubbed his temples whispering an, "Ay Dios mío" before agreeing to go in with you. You did quick work of washing your hands before walking over to the small pool where they were, your hands gently touching them. Miguel walked next to you, handing you a piece of fish to feed to them as he basked in the small smile you gave him. You two spent a few minutes in silence petting the manta-rays before deciding to go get an ice cream cone. (oh Lord)
"Thank you for all this, I know I didn't exactly make it easy for you," you said, licking your ice cream cone as you sat down in his car. He placed his hand on top of yours, gently rubbing it with his thumb as he looked into your eyes. "I get it, okay? I know it probably wasn't easy for you to let down your defenses but I really do appreciate you giving me this opportunity," he said, bringing your hand up to his mouth before kissing it. The ride back home was pretty quiet, a comforting type of silence, your hand enveloped with his as he rubbed gentle circles every now and then.
You and Miguel got to his dorm room a couple minutes later, your legs instantly wrapping around his waist as he held you up against the wall, kissing your neck as he tasted every spot he had access to. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling him closer to his body before stopping suddenly, looking at you. "Is it alright if we do this, mi reina? i don't want you to feel pressured," he asked, instantly being shut up as you pulled him in for a kiss once more. (my queen)
He set you down on the bed, his hands working on helping you get undressed before laying you back on his bed. He settled in between your legs, kissing your lips passionately, like he couldn't live normally without a taste of your lips. He kissed down your neck, his hands gently rubbing on your thighs. He pressed small kisses on your stomach before he reached your cunt, leaving a small kiss on your clit before adjusting himself so he'd have better access. He started licking your folds gently, his tongue dipping your hole teasingly as he chuckled when he saw how you reacted, your hands tangling in his hair to pull him closer. He let his hands rest on your thighs, gently rubbing small circles on them as he dipped his tongue inside, sucking on everything that you would give him.
He exchanged his mouth for his fingers a couple moments later, his pointer and middle finger dipping in and out of you as he tried to ease his way in. "So tight," he mumbled, his mouth closing around your clit as his tongue rolled against it. His fingers moved in a scissoring motion as he eased against your walls, basking in the way your fingers gripped his hair and the way your hips grinded against his face. He let out small moans against your clit, the vibrations going straight through you as your back arched from the bed. He curled his fingers in just the right way, listening to the way your moans started becoming less coherent and the way your back arched from the bed. He continued to thrust his fingers inside of you, his tongue working in tandem against your clit as you babbled something about being close.
He pulled away from your cunt, sticking his fingers in his mouth as he licked your release off. You felt yourself growing more aroused at the scene, pulling Miguel down for a kiss as you moaned softly when you tasted a combination of yourself and his toothpaste. He pulled away a couple moments later, doing quick work of his clothes as he stroked your cheek. "Is it still okay if we do this?" He asked, watching you closely for any signs of doubt. "Yes. Please, I need you Mig," you said, feeling yourself cringe internally at how needy you were being but you couldn't find it in you to care at the moment.
He gently pushed inside of you, his hand wrapped in yours as he circled your palm with his thumb. He wiped away a tear rolling down your cheek, making sure he didn't move until you had gotten adjusted. You focused on relaxing and taking deep breaths despite how big he just felt inside of you, and it was barely the tip. "You can move now," you told him, feeling the ache in between your legs be replaced by something pleasurable. He slowly started moving deeper inside of you, letting out a small groan as he bottomed out deep inside of you. He pressed his hand against your lower stomach, looking directly at the bulge in your stomach as he started moving.
"Such a good girl, taking me in so deep," he whispered, dipping his head down to kiss your cheek. He continued thrusting his hips against yours, moving faster as he felt your walls clenching around his cock like a vice. You nodded, babbling mindlessly about how much of a good girl you were for him as he chuckled, clearly enjoying the sight of the mixture between your boobs bouncing and the cockdrunk state you were in. His thumb traveled down to your clit, gently rubbing small circles on it as his cock abused your cunt, your walls fluttering around him. Your walls clenched around him tightly as you moaned, your release washing over you and creating a creamy white ring around the base of his cock. "You think you can do one more for me, sweetheart?" He asked, gently rubbing your thighs as you nodded, not trusting your voice to speak.
You flipped over on your stomach as you rested on all fours, letting out a small moan as you felt spit dribbling down your cunt. He started thrusting in slowly, your walls clenching around him as he started to move in deeper inside. He started off slow since he knew you weren't exactly experienced when it came to sex, but once you started to move your hips against his, he lost all semblance of control. His balls slapped heavily against your thighs as he snapped your hips, hitting your cunt in ways you hadn't felt before. His hands gripped your hips tightly as he continued to move against you, letting out small groans.
He grabbed you by your shoulders, pulling you upright so your back would hit his chest while he tilted your head to kiss you. "Taking me so good, mi vida," he whispered, feeling his orgasm starting to build up. With the way you were clenching around him, he could tell you were close too so he decided to rub small circles on your clit once more, providing you just the right amount of stimulation. You let out a small moan as you came around his cock once more and the way your walls tightened against him, his orgasm came crashing down. His cum coated your pussy, leaking out when he pulled his softening cock out.
He grabbed a rag from his drawers, starting to clean your legs carefully, making sure not to apply too much pressure so he wouldn't overstimulate you. He laid down next to you once he finished, wrapping his arms against you tightly as he covered you two up with the sheets. You felt yourself growing sleepy with how warm he felt against you but you still heard him say,
"Does this mean I win the bet, mi chula?"
@eddiemxnsonlvr @chshiresins @mimiemie @6thhokageswife
#moon-rivr#miguel spider man 2099#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o’hara fanfiction#miguel o’hara fic#miguel o’hara imagine#spiderman 2099#spiderman 2099 smut#atsv miguel#miguel atsv#miguel across the spiderverse#miguel spiderman#miguel smut#miguel x y/n#miguel x you#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara x y/n#miguel o'hara x you#spiderman atsv#spiderman smut
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Dalton's rules
Elwood Dalton x reader
Annon requested something intense with our brand new boyfriend... well, here we go <3
A/N: In this fic he's still fighting professionally
Warnings: masturbation (f), dom!Dalton, Somnophilia, cum in underwear, degradation, edging, pussy slapping, choking, more slapping, creampie...
Like 2.4k words
---
The first rule was clear. Some days your boyfriend would get everyone screaming his name, except for you. Fight nights... how you hated them! Not only you had to wait anxiously for him to come out of that octagon alive, but he just refused to touch you afterwards.
He claimed it's for your own safety. He just gets too worked up during his fights... if he couldn't mesure his strength, if he ever lost control around you, he wouldn't be able to live with himself.
You were fine with it, most days. Well, of course you felt like rewarding your champion, but that could wait... the stress you went through during the fight and the days of preparation got you too tired to complain about it.
Well, most days...
There was this specific occasion, a very important fight for his career. Dalton had been training for so long, you felt absolutely neglected. Being the supportive girlfriend you are, you didn't say anything, though... you knew how important you were for him, and if he heard you were feeling like that, he would feel like the worst person in the world. And not only you didn't want to hurt his feelings, you didn't want to distract him and cause him to break any bones.
All you could do was wait.
Honestly? It wasn't that bad. Dalton always made it up for you. The days after his fights, before he started preparing for the next one, were the BEST. He got so clingy. He wouldn't let you go anywhere without him. His scary fighter face would be hidden under the sweetest permanent smile and kind doe eyes he only had for you. He would use his fat paychecks to spoil you. Buy you new jewelry for every fight he wins. Take you for dinner anywhere in this planet. And God... fuck you against every surface he saw.
Maybe it's because you had those things in mind and got too eager... maybe it's because this specific time he went too long without touching you... you weren't sure about why, all you knew was that the night after he won the fight, you were absolutely unable to sleep.
The discomfort between your legs was unbearable. You kept tossing and turning in bed, and he was so exhausted, so deep asleep, that not even your restless state right beside him was enough to wake him up.
You sighed frustratedly, looking at his face. God, he was so beautiful you felt like crying. It didn't help the way he never wore anything but those black boxers to sleep.
He was so tired... maybe he wouldn't notice if you touched yourself...
Yeah, that's the second rule. You're not touching yourself without his permission.
But... he would understand, right? Only this time...
Your eyes were glued to his face as your hand slid inside your underwear.
You were dangerously close to him, his body pressed against yours...
It felt like you were committing a crime. Unfortunately, that only turned you on more.
You were so fucking wet you were afraid he would wake up from the sounds your pussy was making.
Well, he didn't fully wake up, but something in him did. You froze when you felt him move. Except that he didn't really move. What you felt was his cock hardening against your thigh.
You wanted to cry. He felt so deliciously hard... what a fucking waste, you needed him so badly... you rubbed your clit so hard, but that wasn't it...
You might have lost your mind just for a second. But the next thing you knew was that you were grinding against his erection like your life depended on it. At this point, all you wanted was for him to wake up and fucking take you.
He didn't wake up at once. As he gained consciousness, he was fully convinced that was all a dream. He remained on that half asleep/half awake land, without moving a muscle. And you kept grinding on his clothed cock so fucking good. So deliciously hard... leaking more and more and... oh shit.
His eyes shot open as his orgasm started to build.
"Shit! Y/N, what the fuck?!" He grunted, voice still so sleepy...
You didn't stop. He grabbed your arm harder than he would like to as he filled his underwear with cum. So much cum it leaked all over your ass as you kept rubbing it against him.
"Oh for fucks sake..." He pushed you away. Fucking pushed you away. He had NEVER done that. "Look at the fucking mess you've made..."
His harsh touch didn't hurt half as much as the loss of contact.
"Dalton... please..." You whined. "Didn't cum..."
"Yeah? Good." He grabbed your hand, forcing you to stop touching yourself. "What the fuck was that?"
"M'sorry..." You squeezed your thighs together. "Needed you too badly..."
"That's the worst behavior I have ever seen in my life." He took a deep breath. "And you couldn't have pissed me off at a worst time."
You had no words to defend yourself. It was true, you broke two rules at once.
"I am so fucking exhausted... and have wake up in the middle of the night to deal with a brat." He continued, his grip still burning on your arm.
"Baby... please... I'm so sorry..." You insisted, burying your face in his chest. Your hands went to his abs, tracing it slowly and he tensed up.
It was obviously not only difficult to you, those days without any touch. But he would rather suffer a bit than risk hurting you or losing the fight.
"Oh my sweet girl..." He cooed, hand stroking the back of your head. "You know I have to be harsh sometimes, yeah?"
You looked at his face again. His sweet expression kept you calm, but his words didn't.
"You understand that I have to punish you right now, don't you?" He asked nicely, like you had a choice. "That I do what I do because I need to keep you obedient..."
You nodded shyly.
"Good girl." He sighed. "Tell me, my princess... when you were touching yourself without my permission... you didn't cum, right?"
You shook your head quickly.
"Do you need to?" He asked and you nodded immediately. "Yeah? How bad? Use your words for me, darling."
"So bad, needed it for so long..." You explained, eyes filling with tears.
"Hey, hey, hey..." His hand went to your cheek, stroking it lightly. "You need cock so bad you're gonna cry, angel?"
You felt humiliated. All you did was look at him. He had a huge smirk on his face.
"That's fucking pathetic." He mocked. "Spread your legs for me."
When you did, he ripped your underwear like it was nothing, throwing it somewhere in the room. The way his eyes landed on your pussy made your stomach churn.
He knew you were ready, so he immediately shoved two fingers inside, bending them, rubbing your walls just so right...
Your eyes immediately rolled back. You were so close before he caught you, it surely wouldn't take you too long to get there now.
"Does this feel good, baby?" He asked, fingers never stopping. "Is that what you needed?"
You nodded eagerly, hips moving uncontrollably as you felt yourself getting there... you grabbed the sheets and closed your eyes, god, you were right there, growing and growing and growing in your belly...
"Too fucking bad, slut." He said, removing his fingers from you at once. His sweet tone was nowhere to be seen now.
Before you could start crying at the loss of contact, he gave your pussy a loud slap. You gasped. You were used to Dalton being rough, but not that rough.
"What did you expect?" He mocked you again. "That I would just solve your fucking problem? Do you think you deserve that?"
When you didn't answer, he slapped your pussy again. "Thought I asked you a fucking question."
"I don't deserve it!" You admitted. "But I did what I did because I was too desperate... because I need you too badly..."
"You just had to wait until the morning, you know that." He explained.
"Couldn't wait... I couldn't." You whined. "Slap me again, please?"
His eyes widened. "You're trying to come from your punishment? Do you have any idea the kind of trouble that would put you in?"
"No... not thinking, just need you..." You moaned, arms wrapping around his neck, bringing him close. "Come on, baby... don't you miss me?"
"Y/N..." He groaned. "Can't do this right now."
"Why?" Your eyebrows furrowed.
"Because I'm fucking mad at you." He shut his eyes, like he was trying to tell himself that. He needed to tell himself, because he was getting hard again.
"No, you're not mad at me for real." You insisted. "Come on..."
"Am I not mad for real?" He raised his eyebrows.
You bit your lip and shook your head.
"Do you think I'm in the mood for playing?" He asked, looking at the clock on the nightstand. "At 3am?"
"I'm sorry... I won't do it again..." You pouted.
He sighed, his eyes on your lips as he licked his. He rested his hand around your neck as a warning to stay still while he leaned to kiss you. You melted into the kiss, hips trying to grind against his leg. His hand tightened around your neck.
"Quiet." He said against your lips.
He pressed his body against yours and you could feel how extremely hard he was again already. You had never met a man with that stamina. Well, everyone knew there was no other man like him...
"Listen to me. Carefully." He said, pressing his erection harder to your core, making you roll your eyes in lust. "I'm gonna fuck you now and then I'm going back to sleep. And if you wake me up again, I'm not gonna even look in your direction for a week, do you understand?"
You nodded with a certain difficulty, considering how his hand squeezed your neck.
"Do. You. Understand?" He asked again.
"Yes, sir." You replied weakly.
"Smart little brat." He chuckled. "Turn around."
He stood up to remove his underwear and you laid on your belly as fast as possible.
The sharp slap that laid on your ass didn't surprise you the slightest, but you still moaned.
He pulled you closer like you were nothing and started stroking his cock. He knew you were more than ready, but his cock was still a bit sensitive from the harsh stimulation you kinda... forced him into. So he entered you slowly, inch by inch. You couldn't believe how good it felt.
"Fucking missed this pussy, baby, I'll admit that." He said, movements starting slow, but deep. "Just wanted it to be more romantic, you know? Take you somewhere nice... in a pretty dress I'd ruin later..."
"M'sorry..." you cried out. When he was that deep inside you, he could get you apologizing for things you didn't even do.
"Yeah, but my girl doesn't like romance, right?" He grabbed your waist and started going harder. "She likes being treated like a fucking slut. A very fucking ungrateful one."
"S'not true..." You moaned.
"Oh am I crazy, baby?" He gave you another slap. "You wanna keep disrespecting me? Knowing you, you might get sick from the lack of attention..."
"I would!" You replied, desperately. "Could fucking die..."
"Dramatic fucking whore." He chuckled. "Listen to me now. Very serious."
You tried your best to concentrate. It helped that his hips stopped moving.
"You're gonna tell me to stop immediately if I hurt you, won't you?" He asked, in the most serious tone you've heard from him.
"Yes." You couldn't contain the excitement that phrase ignited in you. Should you be scared?
"I mean it. You won't get punished and I'll let you cum if you still want to. But you have to be honest, baby, I... I couldn't live with myself." He insisted.
"I promise, baby." You assured him. "You won't hurt me, I can take it."
"Yeah?" He chuckled again. "Well, you fucking asked for it."
After making sure you were as comfortable as you could get in your position, he forgot what the word mercy meant.
His thrusts fast and deep, his sounds animalistic. Hands on your hips leaving bruises... and if you could speak, you'd thank him for it. It was more than you expected... more than he ever gave you. But it sure was what you needed... and it didn't take too long for that familiar feeling, the one you had been craving all night, fuck, all week, start to build.
"DALTON, PLEASE!" You started by begging already, because you weren't in position to do anything without his permission, no matter how much you needed it. "PLEASE, I'M SO CLOSE..."
"Fuck, me too..." He said, never stopping his hard thrusts. "Come for me, pretty girl... hurry up..."
The relief your body felt as soon as it got his permission allowed your orgasm to build and build and explode harder than you could take it... all you could do was scream his name among incoherent words.
He followed right after you, filling you up so deeply...
As soon as he was finished, he wrapped his arms around you and laid down, holding you close.
"Are you okay, angel?" He kissed every inch of your skin he could reach.
"Fuck, I am now..." you sighed and both of you laughed a little.
"I'm sorry, baby..." His sweet tone was back incredibly quick.
"You didn't hurt me, I promise." You assured him.
"Good... But I'm not apologizing for this... I'm sorry that I neglected you for so long." He caressed your face gently. "You're so much more important to me than all that bullshit. I just..."
"I know." You cut him, offering him a reassuring smile. The look in your eyes meant all the words you couldn't say. Specially not at that moment.
"You do, don't you?" He sighed relieved. You were his ride or die. And he couldn't imagine what he would do without you. "I'm so lucky to have you."
"Well..." You shrugged playfully. "Guess that means it's all forgiven."
"All forgiven." He chuckled, bringing you closer to him.
#elwood dalton#road house#elwood dalton x reader#elwood dalton fanfic#road house fanfic#jake gyllenhaal#jake gyllenhaal x reader#jake gyllenhaal fanfic#jake gyllenhaal x you#jake gyllenhaal smut#jake gyllenhaal imagine#jake gyllenhaal x y/n
471 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dissonance (Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader)
Part of the "Anything" verse but can be read as a standalone.
Summary: When a mission-gone-wrong leads to a confrontation, Ghost confesses the way that he feels.
A/N: Get a load of the fucking ART OH MY G O D
Category: Angst || Hurt/Comfort || Mutual Pining || Tension
Warnings: Graphic Language
Disclaimer: Sunshine is Gender Neutral as always, however I am looking to start showcasing fan art as the cover pieces on fics and it will always be up to the artists discretion to decide what they want their Sunshine/Saint/Birdy to look like.
Like the characters? Birdy Masterlist || Saint Masterlist
Such amazing Ghost x Sunshine fan art by @hiskonigin honestly leaves me breathless every single time I swear to God.
___
The mission had gone terribly wrong.
You felt like they always were, these days. Any task or deployment that started off well, started off controlled, they’d fall to pieces the second pressure was applied. It wasn’t all of them, though. Just enough that it had become noticeable to Price and the team. For the life of you, you couldn’t figure out the issue.
But, as you stood nose to nose with the Lieutenant in the shared kitchen, you were beginning to see the common denominator.
“I’m not doing this with you again, Riley,” you snapped. “I’m fucking sick of this conversation.”
Simon’s fists clenched by his side, “I say when this conversation is done, not you.”
Your eyes narrowed, grinding your teeth in an attempt to keep your mouth shut. You’d been warned by Price about your insubordination but the urge to risk it all was at an all-time high. Simon Riley was insufferable.
“Yes,” you ground out miserably, “Sir.”
The officer took a step toward you, unrest buzzing beneath his skin. You could feel the discourse running in his blood, you could sense the unreasonable rage that burned in his chest. You knew it because you knew him on a plane that nobody else would understand. You’d related to him. You’d experienced it all, too.
“You’re a fucking pain in my ass,” he snapped.
Yet… every time. Every time.
Rejection pinched your heart but the feeling was almost hollow. You’d been hurt by Simon so many times that you could almost say that you were numb to it. It’s not as though you were chasing his approval, it was that you were never going to earn it. You couldn’t get civility, you couldn’t get anything from him.
You were tired.
Things had changed, everything had changed since the incident. You’d been kidnapped, held ransom, beaten and battered, and then left to die in favour of your teammate. It was ironic that Simon had been the one to save you; it felt like he regretted it some days.
The fire that burned beneath the skin had dimmed and you felt out of place. There was only so much you could take and you could feel that breaking point creeping up on you. It was foul that you were treated with the same hostility as König, your only crime was being brought onto the team.
Your only crime was that you weren’t Birdy.
“Okay,” you rasped, nodding your head. “Noted. Am I dismissed?”
Simon took in a deep breath, eyes steady on yours. He didn’t waver and you knew that he had more to say. There was always more venom with Simon, quiet with others but angry with you. Always so angry.
“Dismissed.” Ghost confirmed. When you turned on your heel, the man spoke up from behind you. “First parade tomorrow is 0700 at the gym with Birdy and König for training.”
You whirled around as fast as you’d gone to leave. “Sorry?”
Simon barely blinked. “You heard me.”
“I have the day off tomorrow,” you snapped, “we all have the day off tomorrow.”
The officer only shook his head. “Learn to follow orders and you’ll earn a day off.”
Your chest burned, blood rushed to your head and you wanted nothing more than to just scream. You wanted to grip Simon by his stupid shoulders and shake him until that fucking mask fell from his face. You wanted to beat on his dumb fucking chest until you knocked some sense into him.
“I’m sick of this, Riley.” Your voice shook as you raised a finger. “I’m fucking sick of this.”
“Imagine how I feel, Sunshine,” the LT drawled, turning to leave like he hadn’t just ruined your night- like he ruins every night.
You couldn’t breathe. The sensation of being alone, of being rejected over and over by the people that are meant to be the closest to you. You’d never stopped experiencing that particular pain. From your parents to your first few units, and now, to this.
To the 141.
To Simon Riley.
“I won’t be there,” you rasped. The words escaped from between your lips before you could catch them. “I’m not going.”
Your Lieutenant shifted his body to face you again, eyes square on yours. You couldn’t care less about the murder in his eyes, you couldn’t care less about the chill drifting along your spine. You didn’t care about anything anymore.
If they wanted to treat you like some erroneous outsider, then you would act like one.
“What?” It was low, almost whispered, but you heard him loud and clear.
You glared up at him, moving forward until you were only inches from him. You could taste his unrest, the shift in his body language, you could almost hear him grit his teeth. You didn’t care. His upset meant nothing to you, he meant nothing to you.
“You heard me.” You dared him to do something. Anything. “I’m not doing shit for you people anymore. Especially you. I’m never doing anything for you again.”
“That’s what you’ve been asked,” he snapped, “your job and nothing else.”
“I’m trying!” You all but shrieked. You felt the tether to your calm demeanour beginning to slip from your fingers. “I’ve been doing nothing but trying and it’s never enough for you.”
Your lips trembled as you gasped for air. Adrenaline was rushing through your system and you prayed that he wouldn’t push you over the edge you teetered along. You felt the unfamiliar tingle along your nose and cheeks, the tell-tale signs of angry tears.
Don’t say anything, you begged internally.
But, if there was one thing Simon was good at it was disappointing you.
“If you have to try that hard then maybe you’re in the wrong place, Sunshine.”
Something inside you snapped.
Tension slingshotted from where it had been building in your chest and landed straight onto your tongue, tasting of venom and fury. Rage washed over you, tears spilling from your lashes as you pushed a finger into his chest.
“Maybe I am.” You finally admitted to your own fears but you wouldn’t be conceding peacefully. There was too much you had to say, too much spite poisoning your lungs to leave it there.
“Maybe this is the wrong fucking place,” you nodded, “because it’s just a fucking high school in here. Everyone’s fucking someone, everyone’s in love with someone and everyone hates someone.”
The LT said nothing as you pushed him hard, stepping back from the force beneath your palms.
“I can’t do anything right because I’m not Birdy,” your voice was warbled as you shouted, thick with tears and anger alike. “König can’t do anything right because of a mistake from the brass, Birdy can’t recover because they’re being babied, and you can’t be unbiased because you want to fuck Birdy!”
“What?” Simon hissed, but the word was lost on you. You hadn’t even heard him as you pushed him again and again. He let you shove him, let you gain ground on him until his back was pressed against the wall.
“And you!” Your voice cracked beneath the volume. “I’ve done everything for you, risked everything for you!”
“I never asked you-”
“You didn’t have to!” It was a sob. It was a confession.
Simon’s jaw fell slack from beneath his mask.
“I’d do anything for you,” you finally fell to a whisper. “We both know that.”
The man took in a shuddered breath from beneath your palms. He was pressed hard into the wall with your hands splayed across his chest as though readying yourself for another attack.
But then they fell slack.
Then they left his body completely.
He shivered at the loss.
“I hate you,” you took a step back, body shaking from emotional overload. You had so much more to say, so much hatred built up over the months. There was just no energy to deliver them anymore.
And, the more you thought about it, maybe it wasn’t hatred. Maybe it was just hurt.
The realization that you would never be loved, never be accepted- the understanding that you would never be the first choice. Always an afterthought, always a hindrance.
A self-sabotaging menace that no one could tolerate.
“You’re right. I don’t belong here.” You affirmed, sorrow forming a pit in your stomach as you finally came to understand. “But, I want you to know that you made this every inch as miserable as it’s been, you selfish cunt.”
The insult fell like a gavel between you.
You half expected Simon to yell. You almost wanted him to. A reaction would be better than the silence filling the small space between you both.
The air grew heavy with tension the longer the quiet continued. Your fingers twitched at your side, the understanding that this was the end of it all. The end of the farce that he’d put on in the hospital, the short pretence of caring.
You supposed people did crazy things when lives are at stake.
Maybe he only pitied you when he’d spoken those words, the sentence you’d been hanging onto for weeks.
“I would follow you anywhere. We both know it.”
The only thing that Simon followed you with was dissonance.
“Nothing?” Your voice cracked and wavered. “Got nothing to say?”
Simon didn’t move, didn’t say a word, he didn’t even blink. You supposed you’d been expecting too much. The man never gave you anything when you needed it, when you were desperate for a sign. His silence was infuriating.
“Yeah,” you said, wobbly and broken. “Of course, you don’t, you fucking coward. Never do when it matters.”
You took another step away from him, forcing yourself to detach from the situation. The longer you stayed the longer you craved a response, you felt like he owed it to you. But no one is entitled to anything and you sure as fuck weren’t about to let yourself fall into that mentality.
The man before you brought out the worst in you.
As you were readying yourself to turn around, Simon Riley finally spoke.
“Are you finished?”
Your jaw fell slack. “Excuse me?”
Ghost pushed himself off the wall, inches from you in what felt like a second. You could barely catch your breath at the sudden proximity, the overwhelming sense of being in his presence. The feeling of being on the back foot beneath him, rather than the one in control, was intoxicating.
“I said,” he repeated, stormy eyes bearing into yours, “Are you finished?”
Each word was enunciated, a pause in between that felt like a beat on your chest every time. You were, in all honesty, flabbergasted. There was no better way to put it.
You couldn’t even string together a sentence to come back at him with, really. The audacity that it took to reply to everything you had said with such an arrogant question made your blood simmer beneath your skin.
Simon took your silence as a confirmation that you were, in fact, finished.
“Can I talk now, Sunshine?” He growled, stepping closer into your space as if there were any more room for him to fit. You receded, feeling as though you were gasping for air that wasn’t tainted by the taste of him. “You gonna let me talk?”
You said nothing as he walked you backward, desperately wanting to dig your heels into the ground. When your back hit the wall you looked up at Simon with wide eyes, hands hovering over his chest.
“Yeah, I think I’m gonna talk now,” the LT deliberated mockingly, nodding his head as though he’d given you the choice. The sarcasm dropped from his tone when he spoke next. “You have no fucking clue, Sunshine. You’re a fuckin’ clueless idiot, is what you fuckin’ are.”
Tears burned in your eyes, collecting on your lash line against your will. Had he really trapped you against a wall just to shatter you further? Did he really hate you that much?
His gloved hands came to grip your own and you flinched away, the back of your head thudding against the drywall. Simon’s eyes narrowed, pressing your trembling fingers against the thin shirt covering his chest.
You could feel his heartbeat. To your shock, it wasn’t steady.
His heart was racing.
You met his gaze once more, watching as his eyes trailed the lone tear on your cheek.
“You’re an idiot.” He repeated but, this time, his voice was a whisper. “You have no fucking clue.”
You wanted to say something, anything. You wanted to believe what he implied, you wanted to hold onto it with the hope that you’d had so many times before.
Unfortunately, vague confessions and sweet nothings weren’t enough anymore.
Simon knew it, too.
“I can sit here correcting half the shit you’ve said,” he shook his head. “But I’m not gonna bother ‘cos I agree with you.”
Your heart dropped.
“Don’t look at me like that, let me finish.” Simon rasped, his fingers tightening against yours. “You’re right about it all, ‘bout it being a fuckin’ high school. König wants Birdy, Price wants Saint, Soap wants Gaz, and everyone’s a fucking bitchy cunt to someone on the team.”
You blinked at the last couple that he’d mentioned.
“But,” he shook his head, gaze heavy on your skin. “I’m not targeting you because I don’t think you belong. And I don't. Want. Birdy.”
You made a small noise, embarrassment burning flush along your neck. You cast your eyes to the side and took in a shuddering breath.
“I don’t give a fuck who you want-” You began, the lie falling shakily from your lips.
“Yes, you do.” Simon interrupted sharply. You looked up at him quickly, ready to defend yourself. “Because I give a fuck about who you want, too.”
“Why?” You blurted, heart thrashing in your chest when he shoots you a pointed glare.
“Come on, Sunshine, don’t play dumb.”
“Then don’t be a coward, Simon.”
The LT raised a brow, gripping your hands tightly at your words. The beating beneath your palms picked up in speed, reminiscent of a racehorse sprinting towards the finish line. You’d never have picked his anxiety if you were just watching him, those dead eyes unwavering.
Maybe, that was why he let you feel it… feel him.
He wanted you to know, he wanted to show you in the only way that he could- in the only way you would trust.
Simon Riley was laying himself bare.
“I give a fuck because,” he paused, loosing a shaky breath. He blinked, finally. Those blonde lashes fluttered as his eyes scoured the features of your face, building the courage to spill his honesty to you. “I give a fuck because I want you, Sunshine.”
There it was.
There it was.
You were frozen, suspended in time with your hands on his chest and your face inches from his. The taste of his words lingered on your tongue as you took him in with every trembling breath.
“I give you a hard time,” Simon nodded, “I do. You put yourself in these fuckin’ situations to save me and I can’t do anything to protect you.”
And, as if someone had turned on the lights, everything suddenly became clear.
The time he’d been so furious that he barged into your room after a mission to berate you. “I could have lost you,” he’d said, “You would have died and it would have been on me.”
That shattering incident where you’d fought in the kitchen, “I don’t need you to save me!” Ghost had snapped, smacking your cup from the table. “I don’t need anything from you.”
And, of course, this mission. This whole debacle had started because you’d recovered him from an ambush.
“This whole time…” You rasped, “I thought you hated me.”
Simon scoffed, the sound bitter on his tongue. “No. I just hated the way I felt. The way I feel.”
You opened your mouth to speak, your fingers pressing into the skin of his chest. These months had you doubting yourself, had you wondering what you could have done so wrong to deserve this treatment. The embarrassment of wanting someone that couldn’t stand you was crippling.
But now… now as his eyes bore into yours, begging you to say something wordlessly. The way his body was on edge, waiting for your response, fearing your rejection. How could you be asked to articulate anything? How were you meant to formulate a sentence?
You wanted to tell him how you felt, you wanted to tell him everything.
You wanted him.
But the craving to put your hands on his skin, to taste his confession on his lips, to show him what he meant to you, it was overwhelming. You wanted him to understand how you felt in a way that he’d never doubt, in a way that would explain why you were constantly risking yourself for him.
You knew he understood when his hands moved to grip your waist.
“Oh, my God.”
You leapt away, your body thumping into the wall as the spell broke between yourself and the Lieutenant.
“Oh, my God!” Birdy said again, hands coming up to their eyes hesitantly as they stumbled back and forth in the doorway. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”
You groaned, dropping your chin to your chest as you pinched the bridge of your nose.
“Relax,” Simon coughed, his fingers trailing along your skin until they fell by his sides again, slow and hesitant. “Just- We were debriefing.”
You could hear footsteps approaching from down the hall and the urge to throw yourself out the window grew exponentially. Out of all the times for these two idiots to make an appearance, they had to pick the most paramount moment. It was as though they were the main characters and you were simply a side-plot, cursed to never be able to develop further than the main story-line.
You glanced up at Ghost who offered you a similar expression, unimpressed.
König cast a shadow over the intruder as he rounded the corner to the kitchen, undoubtedly investigating the commotion. His eyes fell on Birdy first, watching as their hands came up and down from their face, unsure whether they were allowed to look. Then, jade eyes moved to observe Ghost who hadn’t moved from his position posted next to your flushed body.
“Oh…” König murmured, realization slowly dawning as he returned his gaze to Birdy. “Oh.”
Gigantic hands reached to gently but firmly tug on the back of the stumbling sniper’s shirt. He offered an apologetic wave as he began to drag Birdy from the room, the latter still sputtering embarrassed atonements.
“It’s okay,” you slipped out from your space between Simon and the wall. “I was just leaving anyway.”
You quickly moved towards the door, wiping away any remaining tears from your face roughly. Just as you reached the exit, you realized that you’d left the man hanging. What if he thought that you were rejecting him? What if he went back to hating you?
What if you missed your chance?
You paused, turning to look over your shoulder.
Simon was already watching you, eyes soft and his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall.
“Don’t worry,” he offered. “I’ll catch up, Sunshine.”
You hid your smile as you turned back around and continued.
You left the room embarrassed, sure. But, you also left with newfound hope and a promise.
You left with the promise of Simon Riley.
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#cod x reader#cod mw2 ghost#cod mw2 x reader#mw2 x reader#cod ghost#call of duty x reader#ghost call of duty#Call Of Duty MW2
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
GANGSTA | myg - 002
summary: rough sex, blood money, drugs, and gang related activity; four things you never predicted to experience in your simple life. not until you opened your mouth and caught his attention
pairings: gang leader!yoongi x f!reader
warnings: smut, gunplay, drugs, drug addiction, dark!yoongi, drug lord!yoongi, strong language, gang violence, blood and gore, murder, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behavior, abuse, cheating, angst, fluff, dubcon, implied noncon (not from yoongi but within his gang with his knowledge), 18+, minors dni
word count: 3K
author’s note: sorry if you asked to be on the taglist and didn’t make it. i’ve reached over 50 and couldn’t add anymore people. i’ll add more of you in the comments.
“I’m glad you’re okay after all of that,” Jungkook says on the other end of your phone; you had just spilled about the chaotic situation at Makoto as it was still weighing heavily on your mind. You couldn’t shake what Jimin had said about that Yoongi guy killing someone, though it could have just been a rumor. If he had actually taken someone’s life there would be no way they would allow him to walk the streets. He’d be too much of a flight risk.
“You should really be careful in the future. I know you like to stand up for people that can’t stand up for themselves, but Yoongi is bad news. There’s no telling what he would’ve done to you on the wrong day.”
“So you know him too?” You quiz. It seemed as though everyone knew who this guy was besides you. Maybe you don’t get out enough. Or maybe you were just good at staying away from trouble– until this afternoon at least. “I know of him, but not personally. He came to the shop once like five months ago with the same tall guy you were talking about. He told my coworker Si-Woo to step outside, and the next thing you know he's pistol-whipping him nearly to death. Rumor around the shop was that Si-Woo sold drugs for Yoongi, and owed him a lot of money.”
“Really?” Your mouth drops in shock. “What did Si-Woo say about it?”
“He never talked about it, ended up quitting the next day, and told us ‘not to get the police involved because it wouldn’t be of any help and it was all just a misunderstanding’.” He quoted. “Well, three days later Si-Woo’s body was found hacked to pieces and stuffed in a suitcase behind an alley on Gongdan lane.”
You heard about that case on the news some time ago, but had no clue that Jungkook knew the victim on an intimate level. It honestly made you shiver a bit. Imagine being the one to discover the body, and how gruesome the sight must have been. Stuff like that was common in slum areas though. Crime was especially high in Gongdan lane of all places, which is why you made sure to never venture in that area. “You think Yoongi had something to do with his murder?”
Jungkook scoffed. “The guy was viciously pistol-whipping him three days before his body was identified. I know he had something to do with it, but none of us were willing to risk going to the cops, so we just moved on like it didn’t happen.” Jungkook pauses for a moment before he speaks again. “You know… sometimes I think that maybe we could’ve saved his life if we did report the incident. Sometimes I still look at his station and feel like he’s there, tattooing.” He sighs heavily, like it was a great weight lifted from his shoulders to even tell you.
“You did what you felt was necessary. As fucked up as it may seem, you had to think about what was best for you.” You try your best to comfort him as he seemed to hold on to a lot of guilt regarding Si-Woo’s death, and reminiscing didn’t help. To have the man who could have potentially murdered your friend roaming free to terrorize all of Daegu couldn’t be a great feeling. You felt for him.
“I know. It’s just fucked to know he went through such a fucked up death. I don’t even want to imagine how scared he must’ve been,” you could hear clanking on the other end, as though he was biting down on his lip piercing. “I don’t even like the thought of knowing you tangled with them. He seems the type to hold grudges, and I don’t want you to get hurt. I’d lose my shit and go after him myself.”
You smile softly. “And I just know you’d kick his ass, my tough Kookie.” You both laugh at the nickname, which is one of many you had with the word ‘cookie’ in it. You could be so cheesy sometimes, but Jungkook loved everything about it. “You don’t have to worry though, apparently he likes me so maybe I’m in the clear?” You say unsuringly, still not understanding what he meant by it. It was very abrupt and cryptic. “Well whatever he meant, he’s out of luck because you’re spoken for.”
“As if he’d ever had a chance to begin with, I don’t think I’d mesh well with a criminal,” You chuckled. “I’m more into sweet, sensitive guys with tattoos and piercings.”
“Yeah? I think I know someone like that.” You could tell that he’s cheesing on the other end, which made you cheese. Everything always felt so natural with Jungkook. Him being your best friend in high school really played hand in hand with that. He was no different from a lover than he was a best friend. You two were absolutely the same and you loved it.
“You should probably get some sleep now, Angel. You don’t want to go to work exhausted, and I don’t wanna be blamed for you oversleeping again.” You simply roll your eyes in a playful manner, but agree nonetheless. You couldn’t chance being up so late, Mr. Kim was very strict about being on time.
“I guess you’re right,” you pout. “Okay, I’ll talk to you tomorrow when I get off work.”
“Okay, Angel. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Kookie cake.” You pull your phone from your ear, ending the call before you get up from your bed to switch off your bedroom lights. You crawl back onto the mattress, pulling your blanket over your body. Picking your phone back up again, you swipe through your apps until you locate the clock app. You set your alarm to wake you up at 12:00 PM on the dot. Just as you were about to place your phone down on your nightstand, something overcame you and you got the urge to search Yoongi’s name on Google.
When you type in his name, you are shocked to see so many results come up effortlessly. Several different mugshots from several different instances, all dating from when he was a teenager to one that seemed recent. You click on the one that looks most recent, letting it redirect you to the Daegu booking website.
Name: Min Yoongi
Age: 30
BOOKING DETAIL
Status: Released
Building: Public Safety Building
Area: Maledorm
Booking number: 575857
Booking date: 3/26/2023 11:56:00 pm
ARRESTS
Arrest number: 680071205
Arrest date: 3/26/2023 10:06:00 pm
Arresting agency: Daegu Police Department
Agency case number: 25-18056
ASSAULT WITH A DEADLY WEAPON
ATTEMPTED FIRST-DEGREE MURDER
POSSESSION WITH INTENT TO SELL
You read over the arrests in shock, completely dumbfounded by how a man of his caliber could be released from jail and not behind bars rotting for the rest of his life. He practically lived in jail anyway, why not just keep him there? You eye his mugshot, his intense stare giving you the chills. You didn’t need to wonder how the officer taking the photo must’ve felt considering you too have felt those daggers looking into the depths of your soul.
You pull your sight away from the photo, swiping away the page. You didn’t want to spend any more time on Yoongi. What happened at Makoto is behind you now. You just wanted to forget about the situation, and never run into Yoongi– or Joon for that matter, again. You plug your phone to your charger, sitting the device on your nightstand before you drift off to sleep.
“I was starting to think you weren’t going to show.” Mr. Kim looks surprised as you step into the kitchen, taking an apron from the hook on the wall. “Why wouldn’t I show up?” You quirk a brow, tying the black fabric around your waist. “Because I thought you would’ve been too scared to show your face after going toe to toe with the devil’s minions the other day.”
You click your tongue, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. You couldn’t believe people were still on that. Just as you walked in you overheard a customer whispering ‘she’s still alive?’ to her friend. It’s absurd at this point. “I think everyone is blowing what happened yesterday way out of proportion.” You shake your head, grabbing a notepad and pen from the pencil holder.
“I’d like to say we are, kid, but you got lucky. That Yoongi is no joke to be played with. The guy is a menace. Some people say the only reason he’s not in jail is because he has affiliations within the police unit, and I wouldn’t doubt if it’s true. Our system is corrupt.” The older man sighs. ‘Oh great, here he goes with politics and corruption again…’ you thought. You had better get out on the floor before you’re caught in a whirlwind of it.
You leave him to discuss the topic with himself as you step out onto the floor, and start taking customer orders. “Hey, you’re that crazy girl from yesterday.” A man says as you approach his table. You frown, already knowing what he was referring to, so you avoid it at all cost. “What can I get you?” You redirect the conversation.
“Oh! Uhhh,” he picks up the menu from his table, skimming through it. “I’ll have the Jajangmyeon.” He answers quickly. You scribble down his order. “Anything to drink?” You ask. “Ginseng tea, thank you.” He places the menu back on the table. You nod, taking down his drink. “Okay, I’ll be right back with that tea.” You smile kindly before heading back to the kitchen. You rip the orders from the notepad, clipping them to the ticket holder.
“Hey, kid. We’ve got a delivery order for dumplings.” Mr. Kim informs you as you’re preparing tea for the customer. The older gentleman approaches you, the order already made and secured in a brown bag. You take the bag from him, looking at the order ticket attached to it.
As you read over the address on the ticket, your eyes practically bulge out of your skull. ‘2357 Gongdan Lane’. “Um… Mr. Kim, this location is in the slums of Daegu.” You look at him with concern. “I know.” The man simply nods, taking the tickets you set from the holder. “Yeah, well, I can’t go to Gongdan lane. It’s dangerous, especially for me as a woman.”
“Look kid, I’m sorry. If Jimin was here I’d have him go but he doesn’t work on Saturdays and you’re my only worker.”
“Exactly. I’m the only worker, you need me to be at the shop taking orders.” You knew that wasn’t going to go over as it was a slow day, and there were hardly any customers in the shop to begin with. “I can handle the customers and cook the ramen until you get back.”
You couldn’t believe this. Just as you had prided yourself in never stepping foot in Gongdan, here was this old dirty bastard making you go. On top of that, the restaurant didn’t even own a company car for deliveries so you had to ride a bike. You read over the ticket again, noticing that there wasn’t even a name on the order. “There’s no name on the order, this could be a trick that ends with me getting robbed for free food.”
“All this time wasted on talking about it could be used on getting the delivery done. Stop complaining and do what you’re paid to do. The faster you get it done, the faster you can come back.”
You wanted to stomp your foot like a child and continue to protest, but you couldn’t risk your job by not listening so you did the only sensible thing you could do. Your job. You grab a plastic bag, shoving the brown one inside of it before leaving through the back exit in the kitchen. You spot the red delivery bike lying on the ground, and pick it up, looping the plastic bag around the bike handle.
As you mount the bicycle, you pull out your phone to use your GPS. The ride was about 12 minutes away. If you ride fast you could undoubtedly make it at least an 8 minute ride. You kick back the breaks and set off on your journey. During the ride as you make it into the slum area, you could truly see the separation from Sangsu-dong to Gongdan lane. The sidewalks were cracked and unpaved, the buildings looked more rundown, and homeless people laid out in sleeping bags.
You got an uneasy feeling as you noticed a group of men smoking weed on a corner and intensely watching you go by. You probably stood out like a sore thumb, riding through Daegu’s slummiest on a red bike. You swallowed the lump in your throat, keeping your eyes forward as you paid them no mind. As you continue going, you notice the streets become more isolated. Your GPS directs you to turn, which you follow only to come upon a big warehouse that looked abandoned. ‘You’ve arrived’, your GPS says. You furrow your brows, confusion written over your face.
“Stupid thing must’ve sent me to the wrong location.” You grab the bag of dumplings from the bike handle, circling around the warehouse just in case you were mistaken. You find a door on the other end, cameras surrounding it like it was a government building. You inspect the door, seeing that there was a red button of some sort on it.
You scope the perimeter, making sure no one was trying to sneak attack you. The whole thing seemed completely sketchy. You take a deep breath before pressing down on the button, a loud buzz coming from it. You take a step back, waiting for someone to come open the door. You stood there for about two minutes, not wanting to wait around any longer. You knew this was a scam. You should’ve just gone home and pretended like you delivered the food. It would’ve saved you the trouble. As you turn to walk back to the bike, the door suddenly opens with a loud creaking sound.
You direct your attention back to the door, locking eyes with an individual that you dreaded to ever see again. “Oh my god… i-it’s you…” you stutter in shock, seeing Yoongi stand in the doorway with a smirk plastered on his face. “Wonder Woman, we meet again.”
You’re silent, not really saying a word as you feel too stunned to speak. “You got something for me, sweetheart?” His eyes darted to the bag in your hand. You snap from your fearful trance, remembering why you were there in the first place. “Uh… yeah. Here’s your order.” You stretch out your arm to hand him the bag, not wanting to come any closer. The raven reaches forward, his hand brushing yours as he takes the bag from you. You quickly turn away, rushing back over to your bike.
“Hey, I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself yesterday.” He says, following behind you. “I already know who you are.” You mumble as you mount the red two wheeler. “Really? You didn’t seem to know who I was yesterday. If you did, you wouldn’t have shot your pretty mouth off like that,”
He grabs the handles of your bike, preventing you from leaving. “You look scared. Guess my reputation precedes me.” He says almost too proudly. “Not in a way that a decent human being should want it to, but I guess decency isn’t what you’re aiming for.” you say slickly, which causes the raven to smile. “There goes that smart mouth again,” he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, giving you the same predatory stare from yesterday. “Normally I wouldn’t tolerate anyone getting slick at the mouth with me, but from you it’s kind of a turn on.”
You scowl, ignoring his sexual advance. “Can you let go of my bike? I need to get back to work.”
“How about you let me drive you?” he offers, but you quickly decline. You’d be an idiot to get in the car with a proclaimed murderer. “I’ll take my chances on the bike, thank you.” The raven lets go of the handles, taking a step back to allow you to be on your way. “Be my guest, sweetheart.”
You kick back the break, not wanting to waste any more of your time in Gongdan speaking to this thug. You back away from him, turning the bike to ride down the path you came. “I hope to see you again, Y/N.” He calls out. You come to an abrupt stop, looking back at the raven. How did he know your name? “I don’t remember telling you my name.”
“You didn’t need to. I have my sources and connections, Princess. Whatever I need or want, I get.”
You cringe at the nickname ‘princess’. Jungkook doesn’t even call you that, with all the cheesy nicknames he does use. Him knowing your name suddenly made you question how coincidental this whole encounter was. You were starting to wonder how much about you he knew. As if he read your mind, he starts to read you like an autobiography. “You were born in Busan and raised right here in Daegu, you’re an ex nursing student, an only child, both your parents passed away in a tragic car accident, your best friend is Sang Mina, and your boyfriend is… Jeon Jungkook? Am I right?”
Your heart pounds against your chest as he spoke information that only people close to you would know. You felt sick, creeped out even, but you tried not to display that on your face. “So, I guess you know my work schedule then. You set this little encounter up knowing that I was the only worker today, didn’t you?” the raven simply shrugged like he couldn’t answer whether that was true or not, but you knew that it was. “I don’t know what your deal is, but just stay away from me, okay?”
Yoongi sneered, as he turned on his heels, heading back to the door from once he came. The raven makes sure he gets the last word though.
“I can’t make you any promises, sweetheart. Like I said, whatever I want, I get.”
Taglist
@l0stindigo @minyoongimylove @mamidescarada @slutforleeminho @bubbles2300 @rosquilleta @justletmehavethenamemarsomfg @pineappleburger @secfir @mytokkiboyfriend @zeelalalalala @kenpachisimp @snoozeagustd @borahaerhy @officialholyagua @kooslilhoe @agustdsslutt @wittyreader @moonchild-qaads @littlestarstinyseven @jojowantstocry @whipwhoops @multiasf @mxshikoo @passionandsuga @justdancehoba @kooksbunnnn @primadonnasdream @ashslytheringoddess @yoongislatinagff @itzz-me-duh @roguesthetic @captaincarmel416 @strxwbloody @catchmybreath94 @yunkissis @miamorcitovante @daniarafid @junisage @cynicalbitch666 @junslay @be0mluver @minvu @bibsluvsjk @shycreationdreamland @l2ovesick @ejaeee @jiminssmallpinkyy @bangtan4everr @wobblewobble822
#bts x reader#min yoongi x you#yoongi smut#min yoongi x y/n#min yoongi#suga x y/n#suga x you#yoongi#suga x reader#bts suga#bts smut#bts min suga#bts min yoongi#mafia yoongi#jeon jungkook#jungkook x reader#bts fic#min yoongi x reader#yoongi x y/n#bts yoongi#min yoongi fanfic#yoongi series#suga smut#smut#agust d#agustd#bts fanfction#bts mafia series#yoongi x reader#yoongi x you
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Leaning against the wall, you let a deep breath out as the bass of music thumps in your temples, your lips taking a sip of the too strong drink that was made too quickly so you could tuck yourself against said wall.
Suguru told you to scram. This was you doing just that.
There’s minimal you wouldn’t give to be back in his arms, curled up under some covers while he lets his long fingers trace down your spine. The smell of his post-shower warmth enveloping you in the safest feeling, his skin mixing with yours.
You take a sip of your drink, hands placed over the top carefully, and it doesn’t take long before you feel the eyes of a snake settling on your body.
“You just gonna stare at me, or are you going to make a move?” You snap, and he stiffens at your words before melting back into intoxication.
“Sorry… you just look really good tonight,” he slurs, shuffling towards you. You wonder if, somewhere, Suguru knows you’re uncomfortable with this. If he feels it down his spine.
“So I don’t look good all the time?” You say.
“You look especially good tonight.”
“Mhmm.”
Once again, he lets his eyes glaze over you hungrily, predator to prey, but you’re unphased by the way he shambles closer to you, practically drooling.
Pig.
“What’re you even doing here?” He slurs, and you scoff.
“Am I not allowed to come to a party I’ve heard about? There’s no crime in that. Besides,” you lower your eyes to be closer to his, and he whines in his throat. “How could you’ve met me if I didn’t show up?”
“Nah,” he snickers. “You’re Geto’s piece. I’m not gonna hit nothin’.”
You roll your eyes, “I’ve never been anyone’s piece. I’m a free fucking person, whoever was in my past doesn’t dictate my life.”
The man snorts and nuzzles his head against your shoulder, “you’re funny.”
“Oh, I’ve never been more serious in my life.”
He lifts his head up to blink his glazed eyes at you, and you gently grip his chin to assert any dominance you could muster.
He didn’t kiss like Suguru. Suguru kisses you like every time was the first time, desperate and warm as it swirls through your body and mouth. He kisses like the first rain of summer and first snow of winter, like cookies on the holidays made by someone you miss.
This man tears your lips up with no remorse, no shame in how he may be making you feel. He tastes like pot and liquor, like bad decisions and hangover and heartbreak.
He’s not half as sweet as Suguru is.
It doesn’t take long before there’s a massive hand on your shoulder tugging you back and away from the man, whose eyes widen in fear.
You, merely, step back and let the action unfold.
Poor thing, he doesn’t stand a shot against Suguru’s fist bashing against his bottom jaw, sober and full of rage and fire and venom. At the drama, the party breaks up to watch everything unfold, the man now passed out on the floor with blood seeping from his nose.
Suguru waves his hand to melt away the sting, “you know I’m not a big fan of parties.”
You shrug and step over the man, not bothering to help whoever the four people were that were trying to help him wake up. Suguru’s footsteps are close behind, nothing urgent in their strides and steps.
You guide him to a quiet area outside, where the other party goers had no idea he just completely spun someone’s jaw around. You lean against the wall, and he lights a cigarette to calm down.
“Your hand is bleeding.”
“What’re you doing here?” He asks, ignoring your words. “We get into a fight and you come to a sleazy party where you know no one or nothing?”
You stand up straighter, “you told me you didn’t care what I do.”
“And you told me you never wanted to see me again. Guess we both got listening problems.”
You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest, just wanting to go home and go to bed in the coldness of your own sheets alone. It’s been a long night, ruined by a man who swore to love you no matter what.
“Hey,” he says, letting out a puff of smoke. “Look at me.”
“I don’t want to,” you snap.
“I said,” a hand reaches to pin you to the house behind you, smoke and adrenaline in his scent, like a beast who’s ready to stop the prey fighting back. “Look at me.”
“What, are you going to hit me too?”
“Don’t even joke about that.”
“You’re a monster.”
“And you’re in love with me,” he says flatly. He grips your chin in a mammoth hand, cheeks pursing out slightly from the feeling. “I can smell it on you.”
Tears swell your waterline, bubbling and threatening to roll if you don’t gain composure and confidence fast.
“Who cares If i do?”
“I do.”
The prettiest face in the world leans in to kiss you like only he can; sweet and soft but with enough dominance to have your knees collapsing under the weight of standing without his help. There’s a heat brewing in the base of your stomach, arms hooking around his neck to keep steady, and you whine against him as his hands slip to roam down your back. You let out a small snivel, then the tears boulder down your hot cheeks as he only slips his tongue deeper, like a hungry beast.
You hate him. God, you wish you could quit him, never see him and his overwhelming love for you again.
You part softly with a small pant, letting his eyes roam your face as he looks at you, like you had sewn the stars in the sky and hung the moon by hand.
His still bleeding hand comes up to nudge your lip, and you bite your bottom, swollen lip gently.
“Maybe I do love you,” you whimper against his finger.
He smirks and wipes a tear from your cheek.
“I know, baby.”
——-
Tagging you 🥺 @reverie-starlight @wolffmaiden @thoreeo @aliensknowmyillusions @tutuwusworld @lavishcherie @sassycheesecake @cheolattes @rrairey @unknownspecies
#geto suguru#geto suguru angst#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x gn!reader#geto suguru x reader angst#geto suguru imagine#geto suguru jjk#geto#geto angst#geto x reader#geto x reader angst#geto x gn!reader#geto imagine#geto jjk#jjk#jjk angst#jjk x reader#jjk imagine#jjk x gender neutral reader#jjk x gn!reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x yn
540 notes
·
View notes
Text
Jealousy jealousy | Peter Parker x fem! reader
Summary: 3 times where Peter hears you fangirling over Spiderman and one time he finally explodes.
warnings: none.
a/n: enjoy and let me know if there's any mistakes please!:)
The first time, he overheard you talking to your friends, was an accident, he didn't on purpose it just happens every time he sees you, he has no control over his senses. And he doesn't realize he's eavesdropping until you say something that brings him back to reality.
“... I think he's hot.” whoa, were you talking about him? Nice. “I mean, have you seen how athletic he is?” fuck, it wasn't him. Yeah, he participates in P.E class but he has to pretend he isn't good at it so you or anyone else wouldn't get suspicious. So it couldn't be him.
Peter turned his face away from you, feeling insecure. You were dumping him? Who was this guy?
“Hey, what are we talking about?” One of your friends came to the table you and your friends were eating.
And of course, Peter needed to hear the name of the guy.
''I'm masochistic?''
“Spider man!” You exclaimed with a smirk on your face making your friends groan. His heart stopped for a second. “Again?” Your friend rolled playfully her eyes to you. And you nodded with your head cheerily.
Peter felt his body relax at your words. So you like Spider man uh? Only if you knew Spider man likes you too.
The second time, the two of you are in his room, he sitting at his desk doing homework while you are doing yours in his bed. Well, you got bored doing the homework so now you were just rambling stuff about your classes, your friends, and...
“Hey, have you heard about Spider man?” Peter's body froze. “You know, the Superhero.” He hums in agreement, incapable to make a comment. “I heard some people show up at the crime scenes just to watch him in action.” And Peter dislike that people, they could get hurt and they didn't even care, and for what? just to watch him? “Yeah, that's crazy.” He expected you to agree with him, but you were quiet. “That's crazy, right?” He turns his chair to look at you, but you were avoiding his eyes. “... I don't know, to be honest, I would like to watch him in person too, even a glimpse of him.” Now he was seeing red. Why would you do that? Why would you put your life in danger for someone who you don't even know? Why would you do that for Spider man?
He couldn't help but feel a hole in his chest, it was a heavy and ugly feeling, he had never felt something like that. Jealousy. “What’s so good about him, anyway?” Peter muttered, turning himself, and ignoring the smile that crept across your face.
The third time, you were getting ready to hang out with your friends at the new coffee shop, doing your makeup you saw Peter through the mirror leaning against the doorframe of your room.
“Take a picture, it'll last longer.” your teasing smile sent butterflies to his stomach. “Why would I want a picture? If I have you all for myself.” He came closer to you from behind your back, placing kisses on your naked shoulder. “Oh, you're lucky that I haven't met Spider man then.” He stopped kissing your shoulder “Please, go with him if you like him so much” You turned your face to him. “I'm kidding Pete, I already have you and I love you so much.” You squeezed his hand. “Also, I'm pretty sure he wouldn't notice me, I bet he dates models”
He didn't know why he was more upset, you doubting how beautiful you are or assuming that Spider man wouldn't notice you. But you were wrong in both assumptions.
“You are the fucking prettiest girl I've ever met and anyone would be so lucky to share the same oxygen you breathe because I know I am.” And he smashed your lips, it was a passive-aggressive kiss. “I'm lucky too.”
And the one time he finally explodes, Peter was resting in his bed after a long night patrol when you crossed the door excitedly.
“PETER YOU'RE NOT GOING TO BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED LAST NIGHT” Oh, sure he did. “What happened, love?” He played fool. “So, remember when you dropped me at the corner of the street? Well, guess what!?” You made it a short pause not giving him the chance to respond “SPIDER MAN WAS THERE TOO” He gasped. “No way!” You grabbed your phone and unlocked it “AND HE GAVE ME FLOWERS. NOT JUST THAT, TULIPS, MY FAVORITES” You showed him the photos of you and your tulips, you looked so happy and that makes him happy too. “He shouldn’t go after other people’s girlfriends” He half-joked. You laughed “Maybe after all you have a rival” He wasn't smiling anymore “I mean, who gifts tulips to a complete stranger? Maybe he likes me? OH MY GOD, SPIDER MAN LIKES ME! WOULD YOU IMAGINE US TOGE-” “Babe, I'm Spider man!” Peter cuts you off. He couldn't stand anymore hear you falling for Spider man. But how would you react? Would you hate him for keeping it secret?
“I knew it!” He was shocked “Wait, what?” you shrugged “Honey, you aren't that subtle.” Now, if you knew it, why you had never told anything to him? “I never told you anything because I kind of enjoy you being like this and I want to know how much you could take it before admitting you were jealous and you were Spider man.” Peter blushed “I never would have thought I’d ever be jealous about me.” You winked at him “Oh, jealousy looks good on you.”
#peter parker x reader#peter parker x fem!reader#peter parker#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker fic#peter parker x y/n#peter parker x you#peter parker tasm#peter tasm!
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Steve felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest. The TV at Family Video was turned on to the news station (the tiebreaker when he and Robin couldn’t agree), and a reporter was saying something about a gruesome murder, limbs snapped, teenage boy suspect, and it all swirled and came together until Steve saw the trailer in the background.
Oxygen evaded him. He gasped, trying to remember how to breathe, how to stay grounded, because freaking out wasn’t going to help anything right now-
“Steve!” The front door banged open and Dustin ran in. “How many phones do you have?”
Steve blinked at Dustin. Managed a breath, another one. His brain still felt like it was swimming through molasses. “Why?”
Dustin rolled his eyes like it should’ve been obvious and gestured to the TV. “I’m gonna call Eddie. And, like, everyone. You know what situation this is, right? And that’s Eddie’s trailer. And he doesn’t know anything about this.”
“I know,” Steve murmured, thinking. “Okay, let’s go.” He spared a glance Robin’s direction. She nodded.
Dustin frowned. “Go where?”
“To go find Eddie. I know where he’ll be.”
“How? Steve? Steve, you don’t even know him. Steve?”
Steve ignored the questions. “Get buckled. You got your radio?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Good, keep it on you.” Still ignoring all of Dustin’s questions, he peeled out of the parking lot, making his way to the place he and Eddie had promised each other they’d go if shit hit the fan.
He pulled up to the shed and gestured for Dustin to follow as he cautiously walked inside.
“Eddie?” Dustin asked. “Eddie, it’s Dustin, are you here?”
Steve should’ve said something, should’ve let Eddie hear his voice, but it’s too late because he touched the tarp Eddie’s under and suddenly his back was against the wall, a broken beer bottle against his neck. “Eddie,” he murmured calmly, even as his pulse skyrocketed. He vaguely heard Dustin saying something about his mother. “Eddie, put down the bottle, please. It’s okay. It’s just me and Dustin. No one followed us here. I know what you saw, I know what happened. I know you didn’t kill Chrissy, Eddie. I know you’re scared and don’t know what’s going on, but we’re gonna help you, okay? You’re not alone.”
Eddie dropped the bottle with a slight gasp, eyes widening as he realized who he’s looking at. “Shit,” he whispered, gently placing his hands on Steve’s shoulders. They were shaking. “Steve. Did I hurt you?”
“I’m fine,” he promised, his own hands finding Eddie’s waist. “And you? Are you okay?”
“Christ, Steve, I dunno.” He let out a weak laugh and dropped his head to Steve’s shoulder. “She just… she was sayin’ she thought she was crazy, paranoid, and then she’s in the air, and the sound, Steve, Jesus fuck, I’m never gonna forget it as long as I live, and then she- she’s dead, and-”
“I know,” Steve promised quietly, pulling him into a hug. “I know. It’ll be okay. C’mon, my house is safe. We can go there, lay low. Want me to get Wayne too? The trailer’s a crime scene right now, he’s gotta go somewhere else anyways.”
“Yeah. Please. Just… gimme a minute.”
“I’ll give you all the minutes,” Steve promised nonsensically. “We’ll get everyone together, figure out how to beat it. We’ve done it before.”
“Um,” Dustin said, “what the fuck?”
“Watch it,” Steve warned, tracing Eddie’s spine with his palm. “Did you really think the former king of Hawkins High didn’t buy from the best dealer in town?”
Dustin stared at him, disbelieving. “You’ve never gotten high in your life. I don’t think you’ve ever relaxed in your life.”
Eddie murmured something in Steve’s ear that caused him to roll his eyes and pinch Eddie’s side, smiling when he twitched. “You shush,” he admonished before turning back to Dustin. “I have gotten high. I stopped when I started watching you and the rest of the ankle-biters.”
Dustin rolled his eyes. “Okay, so explain this. Explain how cuddling your drug dealer is normal behavior.”
Steve tapped Eddie’s back, who tilted his head up again to whisper into Steve’s ear. “You sure?” Steve asked, and Eddie nodded.
“‘S fine.”
“M’kay. If you say so.” He stroked a hand down Eddie’s back again before returning his attention to Dustin. “Eddie’s not just my drug dealer. He’s my boyfriend.”
Dustin blinked. “You’re not gay.”
“Nope. It’s called bisexual. ‘S when you like both guys and girls.”
Dustin narrowed his eyes. “But… Robin?”
Steve rolled his eyes. “Platonic, like I’ve told you a million times before, you twerp.”
Dustin shook his head. “Wait. You and Eddie?”
“Christ, I’d have better luck talking to a brick at this point. Yes, me and Eddie. Is that gonna be a problem for you?”
“Well, yeah,” Dustin said, like it was obvious, unaware of the way Steve and Eddie and both stiffened at his words. “You’re, like, my brothers or some shit. I don’t want my brothers dating each other. Besides, you both could do so much better.”
Eddie snorted and looked up at Dustin. “Not sure that’s how that works, bud.”
“Sure it is,” Dustin shrugged.
Steve rolled his eyes. “Not the point,” he reminded them both. “Eds, c’mon, let’s get you to my house. Dustin, can you walkie everyone? Tell them to meet us there?”
Dustin shook his head, but brought the walkie up to his mouth anyways. “Uh… guys? We’re meeting at Steve’s house ASAP. Over.”
“That’s not proper form, dipshit. Over.”
“Shut the fuck up, how about that? Over.”
“Fucking hell,” Steve murmured, grabbing the walkie from Dustin. “Listen up, twerps, my house, twenty minutes, move it. Over and out.”
Eddie began to grin at Steve. “‘S kinda hot, Stevie.”
“Oh, god,” Dustin said, screwing up his face. “No. Nope. We’re not going there. Just… let’s go. Before I try to bleach my brain.”
Steve chuckled, smacking a kiss to Eddie’s cheek and ruffling Dustin’s hair through his hat. “Glad you’re safe, Eds. Let’s go.”
#throwing my hat in the ring for the#‘Steve and Eddie were together before everything went down’ trope#is the phrase ‘throwing my hat in the ring’#or does that mean giving up#I can’t remember#anyways#stranger things#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#dustin henderson#use your imagination for the other Party member on the walkie#I hope someone likes this. ik it’s overdone but#I had fun#unofficial name is ‘cuddle your drug dealer’#because I am the funniest person ik sometimes#or maybe just the punniest#starambles
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
No body, No crime
Tangerine x fem!reader
Summary: You meet a sexy, dangerous, stranger on a train. And he somehow ends up kidnapping you?
Genre: Hurt and comfort, fluff, angst (kinda?)
Warnings: no actual kidnapping lol, canon type violence, crying, protective!tangerine, aloof!tangerine?, pet names, blood, swearing (duh)
You have never been this anxious on a train until now.
A man dressed in a fancy navy suit covered in blood has just pinned himself to the wall of the train, your back pressed to his chest as his hand covers your mouth tightly.
"Tsk, luv, t's ok," he whispers hoarsely, his accent thick, "If they see ya, then they'll kill ya," he continues, "I don't like this anymore than you do, doll, but I can't let'em kill an innocent girl can I? So you'll have to stay quiet for me, you understand?"
You squirm in his arms, which is the only way you can think of asking him to let you go. You want to promise him you won't tell a soul about the gun-shots you heard or how he had pinned you against him, but you can't make a sound behind his hand. So, you make the quick decision and bite his palm hard enough for him to drop his hand with a small hiss.
However, you aren't quick enough to make a run for it since his hand grips your arm and spins you around. You slam against the wall, your chest against his, and you look up into his eyes.
Shit, you think, they're the loveliest blue you have ever seen.
"What the fuck, darlin?" he says, gripping his arms around you now. He's staring at you with a stern, rather intimidating, expression and you feel conflicted.
"I-" you stammer, entranced by just how handsome this man is. Suddenly, you hear louder, closer, crashes and then the sounds of gunshots and your freeze. You find yourself looking up at the man for reassurance.
He doesn't give you any.
"Bullocks," he curses under his breath and looks around you. You follow his gaze but see nothing. When the man looks at you again, his eyes look only a little reluctant, "I am sorry about this, darlin'."
You don't have time to process what he means because he's slamming the side of your head into the wall, hard, and then everything turns dark.
* * *
When you wake, you blink. You're laying in the back of someone's car. You groan, touching your temple gently and sensing a little dampness. You sit up only to realize you had been laying on someone's lap.
You look up and your eyes widen. It's the same man only this time he's absolutely drenched in blood and bruises litter his skin. His hairline is wet from sweat, which only ends up accentuating his curls, and he looks at you, sensing your movement, and smirks.
"Hello, luv," he says and you shoot up, scrambling to the opposite side of the car. Your heart beats almost pounds out of your chest as you stare at him with large, frightened eyes. His voice is a little harsh when he says, "We ain't gonna hurt you."
You look towards the driver. He's a dark-skinned man with dyed platinum hair who looks just as disheveled and bloody as his friend. "Y'know perhaps she'd fuckin' believe ya if ya sounded like it?"
"Fuck you," the blue-eyed man snaps, his eyes narrowing. He pauses a moment but then looks at you again and says, just a little softer this time, "I promise, on this fuckin' jackass's head, you're safe with us."
The driver rolls his eyes. "Real classy," he mutters.
"Who are you?" you find the bravado to ask, your voice hoarse. You move your arm, you're adrenaline calming, and you feel a sting.
When you look down you see there is a fabric wrapped around your forearm but it's still seeping blood. "How the hell did this happen?" you think as you move your arm cautiously.
"I'm Tangerine, and he's Lemon." The man, whom you just learned was Tangerine, says. He looks at your arm, "Sorry luv, you got hit a little when the train crashed. Must've hit your head again too because you didn't wake for a while. Thought you'd died."
"Oh," you whisper, "and why did you kidnap me?" you ask after a moment, looking around the car — which looks like a taxi. Something catches your eye. Tangerine’s sleeve is ripped up. You look down at your arm and realize the fabric binding your wound matches his shirt.
He patched up your arm with his shirt.
"Kidnap you?" Tangerine exclaims, mouth curling upwards into a sneer, "No, we just saved your ungrateful arse," his tone is harsh and Lemon tuts, snapping his head to look at his friend.
"You're being fuckin' scary, mate," he warns, "can't ya see she's scared."
"I'll shove one up your," Tangerine starts but then he turns to you and his words die in his throat. You're holding your arm, tears brimming in your eyes as the reality of the situation sinks in. You stare at Tangerine, watching his expression shift and he almost looks concerned.
Almost.
"As I said, doll, you are safe now," he assures you, calmer. He looks you over with a small smile, "We're takin' ya home where we'll help clean your wounds and you can sleep. As soon as we know you're okay, then we'll take you wherever you want to go. We aren't kidnapping you, sweetie, I promise."
You nod, wiping at your tears, as you lean against the car window. You don't want to talk anymore. The car ride is silent until Lemon parks the taxi in front of a house. Tangerine is the one who helps you out and then he slaps his hand on the hood and Lemon, from inside the taxi, nods. He drives away and Tangerine turns to you. He crosses his arms.
"This way, luv," he holds open the door and you follow him inside. You clutch your arm and admire the interior decor; all modern and fancy, as Tangerine leads you to a small bathroom near the stairs. "Come 'er," he whispers as washes his hands.
You walk in timidly, watching his movements. He's calm as he focuses on the water and he feels your staring, "Can you jump onto the counter alone or do'ya need my help?" Tangerine asks with a smirk.
Cheeks aflame you use your non-injured arm and lift yourself onto the marble counter and wince when Tangerine rolls up his sleeve and presses a cotton-ball to the bruises and cuts that litter your face.
"Mmm," he hums as he works, his eyes focused only on the way you flinch. "You gotta sit still for me."
"It hurts," you whimper when he moves to look at your arm. Tangerine doesn't seem amused.
"I know, darlin'. But, if I can't look at it then I can't help you, can I?" he says calmly. He looks at the wound, the fabric of his chemise abandoned on the bathroom floor, and frowns. "Fuck, I have to stitch this up for you."
Your eyes widen, "You?! Are you a doctor?"
Tangerine's movements pause and he narrows his eyes as he stares at you intensely. "Ya, didn't ya see my nameplate on the door?" It's sarcastic and you don't find it funny as your lip quivers. Tangerine sighs. "Now listen here. No tears, alright? I know you'll be fine. The pain'll only last a minute. Trust me."
Trust him. How odd a sentence for some random stranger who had basically kidnapped you. Still, you nod and let him stitch your wound.
Tangerine had lied. It was painful for more than just one minute, but when he pressed his lips to your forehead for a mere second after the ordeal, the pain was instantly a distant memory.
His thumb caresses your cheek and, for the first time all night, he smiles a little. Tangerine drops the needle onto the face-towel near your hip and runs his bloody hands under water, washing them again. You wipe your blood from your cheek, the mark his thumb had left, "Sorry," he chuckles as he takes your arm again and this time he applies some vaseline to the wound and then wraps a gauze, non-stick, bandage around your arm. "You were brave, princess. I'm impressed."
"Thank you," you whisper, looking into his eyes.
"You're welcome, and don't mention it," Tangerine's sweet smile is replaced by a smirk as he pats your thigh, indicating you can jump down now. He runs a hand in his curls and checks his own appearance in the mirror. "Seriously, don't mention it," he insists absentmindedly and then looks at you from the corner of his eye, "And unless you want to see me shower, love, I suggest you leave now. Wait in the room."
He says it so casually but you feel like your heart could explode. You nod and quickly walk out, closing the door behind you.
"Oh, would you happen to have some aspirin?" you wince and then ask timidly. You hear shuffling. When the door shuffles open you see Tangerine's hand come out and he hands you a medicine bottle. With a small thank you, you take it and walk down the hallway. Tangerine hadn't told you where his room was, or where you could find water for your aspirin.
You almost slam into Lemon, who's wiping his hands on his jeans and he seems surprised to see you. "Oh, I see my brother took care of ya, did he?" Lemon smirks and looks you up and down.
"Brother?" you whisper.
Lemon looks amused, "Yeah. We're twins," he says casually.
You stare at him, confused, but just nod in agreement. Lemon chuckles and sees the aspirin in your hand. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and guides you to the kitchen. "Love seeing people's reactions when I tell 'em that," he smirks and runs you a glass of water. "So, what's your name, bird?"
"Y/n," you say as Lemon hands you the glass and you take the medicine.
"Cheers," Lemon claps his hands and looks you up and down, "So, did Tangerine say where he wanted ya to sleep?" You shake your head a little sheepishly and Lemon rolls his eyes, "no bother, here, you can just sleep in his room."
"His room?" you squeak as Lemon plucks the glass from your hand and ushers you into the hallway and up the stairs this time.
Tangerine had said to wait in the room, and you had assumed he meant his room, but now you aren't so sure.
"Yup," Lemon says with a smirk, popping the 'p' playfully as he opens the door to what you assume is Tangerine's room. It's a decent sized room, dimly lit with an organized desk and navy blue sheets. All the furniture in this room looks expensive. "He saved you, you're his responsibility."
Lemon pats your head and then leaves with a hum. You stand in the room, still dressed in your dirty, blood-covered clothes. You're too afraid to sit on any surfaces so you stand and look around.
Just as you almost pick up a picture from Tangerine's desk, he comes in with a towel wrapped around his waist as he shakes his hair out from his shower. Your eyes widen; his chest is painted in scars.
"What the fuck are you doing in here?" he sneers, pausing in the doorway.
"I'm sorry," you hurry to explain, suppressing your tears as you're overwhelmed by this entire situation, "your brother said I could sleep in your room—that I was your responsibility," your voice comes out small and meak. Tangerine rolls his eyes.
"Bloody hell, there's no need to cry, darlin'," he says a little rudely and your eyes widen. Your hands shake by your sides, tears brimming in your eyes as you take in his words.
"No need to cry?" you start, your voice rising, "No need to fucking crying? Are you fucking serious?!"
Tangerine seems surprised by your outburst and he just stares as you word vomit all over him.
"First, the train I was on to visit my sister was fucking attacked and then when some asshole knocked me out I wake up in some random taxi, injured and bruised, as two random men—including said asshole that perviously hit me—can't give me their real fucking names, or any coherent answers as to why I'm there. They bring me to their home, stitch up my wounds—which I do thank you for. But then they act all normal and calm and I'm just not supposed to feel like crying? After all that has happened?"
You take a breath and then continue, "You could really be a little nicer to me, you know! I'm filthy and still in pain a-and I just want to go home but I lost my phone," the dam suddenly breaks and tears rapidly stream down your cheeks. You shake and sob, covering your face with your hands and arms as embarrassment takes over.
You feel Tangerine walk closer but he doesn't hug you, instead he looks at you and says, "I'm not good with feelings, darlin'," he admits, "I would comfort ya if I knew how. Can you look at me?"
You shake your head, still feeling embarrassed, "This is so humiliating," you choke on your saliva and Tangerine sighs, wiping his thumb under your lips. He shushes you and without another word turns around to rummages through his dresser and hand you clean clothes (which consists of one of his band-shirts you assume is from high school and sweatpants that haven't been worn in twenty years).
"C'mere," he says and hands them to you along with a towel. "Shower is downstairs, as you know. Can you shower without wetting your arm?" he asks and you nod quickly. You'd have to. The alternative is help or no shower, and you want neither of those.
"Cheers. Then, when you're changed you can come 'er and sleep. I'll sleep on the couch downstairs. Tomorrow we'll find a phone you can use and call your family. You'll be okay," he says it so calmly it's almost eerie but you can't help the comfort his words bring.
You nod and turn to walk away and once the door shuts behind you, Tangerine lets out a small breath. He runs a hand in his hair and pinches his nose.
If Lemon saw him now, genuinely concerned over some random girl's tears, he'd laugh at him. But, Tangerine can't shake the image of you crying from his mind. All he wants is to make you stop and hold you close. He wants to protect you from the horrors of the word.
God, he's so fucked.
#tangerine x reader#tangerine fanfiction#tangerine fic#tangerine#tangerine bullet train#bullet train movie#bullet train fanfic#lemon and tangerine#tangerine smut#aaron taylor johnson fic#aaron taylor johnson#tangerine x you#bullet train#tangerine x fem!reader#tangerine x y/n
311 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Eye of the Hurricane [7] - On Edge
A.N: Here’s the new chapter my loves! ❤️ Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️
Summary: New enemies can complicate everything.
Word Count: 3200
Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Violence, death, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, drinking. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.
Series Masterlist
You had to admit; your therapist had many good ideas but this?
You weren't so sure this was one of those good ideas.
You pulled the souffle out of the oven and took a look at it, then grabbed a toothpick and put it through the center, only to pull it out completely dry.
“God damn it!” you exclaimed, putting it next to the other five failed attempts, and grabbed the bowl again. “This fucking…”
“What are you doing?”
Your head shot up and you looked over your shoulder. “What the—go away, why are you here?”
Bucky raised his brows.
“Hello to you too Charm,” he said, putting his hands into his pockets, his eyes darting around the kitchen. Even you had to admit that the sight of you in the kitchen was unfamiliar, considering that you barely knew how to make eggs but seeing him in your kitchen was equally strange. Your chef would normally be in the kitchen at this time but you were pretty sure he wasn’t here to see her.
“Who told you I was here?”
“The maid,” he said and motioned at the bowl you were holding. “What is this?”
“Why are you here?”
“I asked first.”
You heaved a sigh and put the bowl back on the counter, then crossed your arms.
“I’m baking,” you said as if there was nothing out of the ordinary with that statement, and Bucky frowned slightly.
“Why?” he asked. “What is this, your plan to play house with your civilian boyfriend?”
You rolled your eyes at him.
“My therapist seems to think it’s a good idea,” you said. “She says I should do things like these to relax my mind.”
“Right, you sounded very relaxed when I walked in.”
“It’s because these fucking souffles refuse to have chocolatey center!” you snapped and Bucky blinked a couple of times.
“You’ve never baked once in your life and you decided to start with one of the hardest things to bake in the world?”
“Go big or go home.”
“I’m right with you on that but when it comes to baking, people usually start with cookies.”
“I already baked cookies, they weren’t challenging enough,” you said, motioning at the plate on the kitchen island and he walked to it to get a cookie.
“Did you poison these?”
“Yeah,” you said and he shrugged, then took a bite of it, a look of surprise crossing his face as he chewed on it.
“This is actually good,” he said. “Is this cinnamon?”
“It’s arsenic,” you deadpanned and he nodded his head.
“You know, if you ever decide to go into it professionally, we can get you a bakery.”
“Uh huh.”
“I’m serious, we’d put it in the neutral territory if it makes you feel any better, it could work—”
“Why are you here?” you cut him off and he popped the rest of the cookie in his mouth, then leaned back to the island.
“I’ve been summoned,” he said. “So has everyone else.”
Your eyes widened. “Everyone else? What do you mean, everyone else?”
“All the bosses in the city.”
“What the—why?” you asked, lowering your voice and he shot you a smirk.
“How long have you been here?”
“Bucky!” you hissed and he grabbed another cookie.
“There’s been an attack.”
“An attack?” you asked, your heart skipping a beat. “From a family?”
“Not from a family,” he answered. “An outsider, or so it seems.”
“What outsider?” you asked and he chewed on his bite.
“No seriously, if I paid you, would you make more of these for me?”
You smacked his arm and snatched the cookie out of his hand.
“Hey!”
“What outsider?”
“It happened in Stark’s territory,” he said, eyeing the cookie. “He knows more than I do, he and your father had a talk I heard but we will all be informed in the meeting.”
You arched a brow. “And?”
“I swear to you, that’s all I know. Can I get it back now?”
You heaved a sigh and handed him the cookie, making him shoot you a happy smile.
“Thank you.”
“Do you think they’re the same people who were involved in the shootout?”
Bucky clenched his jaw, then cleared his throat.
“Who knows?” he said. “So did you think about my proposal?”
You threw your head back in frustration, then jumped to sit on the island, crossing your legs.
“I did,” you said, leaning slightly back, resting your palms on the island and pretending to be in deep thought. “And you know what, it kind of makes sense to use a marriage for my benefit and rise to power.”
If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he was holding his breath, a hopeful light glimmering in his eyes.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah so, Steve or Sam?” you asked airily and he frowned.
“What?”
“Yeah, I mean Romanoff is with Banner, Barton is married, so is Stark…”
A groan left his lips. “Charm…”
“So that leaves us Steve or Sam.”
“They’re my best friends.”
You shrugged your shoulders. “I know that. So what?”
“They would never.”
“Why not?” you asked. “Because you called dibs on me or something?”
He averted his gaze from you and you sat up straighter, pulling your brows together.
“Bucky,” you growled. “You have exactly three seconds to tell me you didn’t call dibs on me as if I’m a cookie because we’re standing in a kitchen full of knives—”
“I didn’t!” he said. “They just…they won’t, okay?”
“Well then that plan is not going to work because I’d never marry you—” you started but heard a knock by the door, making you turn your head to look at Steve.
“Am I interrupting?”
“Not at all,” you said. “Bucky was just leaving.”
Steve glanced around the kitchen with his brows raised. “Since when do you bake?”
“It’s very good for mental health!” your defensive answer came almost too fast and he held up his hands.
“Alright then.”
“It does calm you down,” Bucky said solemnly and you narrowed your eyes at him.
“I’m going to take your cookie back.”
“Don’t you dare.”
Steve eyed the cookies. “Can I have one too?”
“See? He asks for permission,” you told Bucky. “Perfect marriage material there.”
“Excuse me, what?” Steve asked, gawking at you before Bucky grabbed a cookie from the plate and tossed it to Steve who caught it mid-air, then he turned to you.
“You know where to find me.”
“Yeah, between some woman’s legs,” you retorted, making him roll his eyes as Steve chuckled.
“I’ll see you around Charm,” he said and walked out of the kitchen with Steve following him. You nibbled on your lip, then grabbed a cookie and laid down on the island, keeping your eyes on the ceiling.
“So relaxed,” you murmured as you bit into the cookie. "I'm so very relaxed."
*
That meeting took hours to be finished and even though you wanted to stick around in the house, you still had plans with Ethan for lunch. You were at the end of your wits from curiosity so by the time Ethan got there, you were still glued to your phone, waiting for a text from Becca.
“Hey,” he said, pressing a kiss on your cheek and you smiled up at him.
“Hey,” you said and took out the small container out of your handbag to put it in front of him, making him tilt his head.
“What is this?”
“Cookies,” you said, taking a sip of your coffee. “I made them today.”
Ethan stared at you. “You made cookies?”
“Why does everyone sound so shocked about it?” you asked back and Ethan chuckled.
“Y/N, while we were dating, you tried to make toast in the microwave.”
“It’s not my fault if microwaves aren’t that advanced yet,” you told him and he chuckled.
“Of course,” he played along, opening the container to take out a cookie. “What brought on this sudden interest in baking?”
“My psychiatrist,” you said as he took a careful bite and his eyes widened.
“You made this?”
You gasped in a dramatic manner and pushed at his boot with your heel. “I take your disbelief as a compliment.”
“You should, it’s amazing!” he said. “So your psychiatrist told you to bake cookies?”
“Well not just bake but more like…you know, relaxing stuff,” you said. “I started with baking because it sounded more interesting than the other options. And more delicious as well.”
“I think you unlocked a talent there,” he said and you hummed.
“Eh, maybe. My souffles disagree.”
“You made souffles?”
“I started for souffles but now I have muffins,” you said. “You know, not much of a difference there.”
“Muffins are better than souffles anyway,” he told you, grabbing another cookie as the waiter brought his coffee. “Thank you.”
“So I was going to ask you,” you said, turning your phone in your hand. “Where is your apartment exactly?”
“Between 33rd and 34th street right across from the bank, downstairs there’s a cute—”
“Drawing supplies store,” you finished his sentence for him and he blinked a couple of times.
“Do you have a map in your mind or something?”
“My father made me basically memorize the whole city so yeah,” you said and heaved a sigh. “Great. Stark’s territory.”
He pulled his brows together. “Is that bad?”
“Not necessarily,” you said, running a hand over your face. “So hypothetically speaking—”
“Jesus, we’re back to that?” he teased you and you shook your head slightly.
“No I’m serious,” you said. “Hypothetically speaking, it wouldn’t be a good idea to wander around there late in the evening nowadays.”
His frown deepened.
“Is this related to that attack there earlier today?”
Your eyes shot up to his. “You were there?”
“No no, not very close at least,” he said. “It’s just—there was terrible traffic and I heard the police cards and the ambulance, and people were saying there was an attack.”
“At who? Or what?”
“I really don’t know,” he said, shooting you an apologetic look. “Sorry, I didn’t really think much of it. So is this related?”
You pursed your lips together and shrugged your shoulders.
“I’m not sure but as my dad says, you can never be too careful,” you said. “Alright, here’s the thing. I’ll hire someone to keep an eye around your apartment just in case—”
“Wait, what?”
“Just as a precaution.”
“Y/N, I’m a civilian,” he said with a small laugh. “You said civilians don’t get involved—”
“They don’t, it’s a just precaution,” you repeated, taking another sip of your coffee. “I’m sure nothing is going to happen, but it’s good to be careful.”
He leaned back in his chair, deep in thought.
“I’m not gonna have a bodyguard following my every move, right?”
“No they do that with me, not you,” you said, a smile curling your lips. “I assure you, you won’t even notice they’re around.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Not really, I don’t hire amateurs.”
A small chuckle climbed up his throat and he shook his head.
“This is insane.”
“You wanted excitement,” you pointed out. “I’m just making sure that excitement doesn’t turn into actual danger, that’s all.”
He popped another cookie in his mouth. “Did you bring me these so that I would feel more relaxed?”
You shot him a mischievous grin. “Maybe. Is it working?”
“I feel better about it than I would have with zero cookies,” he joked, coaxing out a giggle from you. “So wait, you wanted to let me know first?”
“Yeah because I don’t want to be the psycho ex who puts people in your tail in secret.”
“No, just the ex who has the ability to pull something like that and bake cookies at the same time.”
“I’m nothing if not versatile,” you stated, making him laugh.
“Oh trust me,” he said. “I’m well aware of that.”
You mirrored his smile and held his gaze, biting at your lip before sitting up straighter.
“So,” you said. “Enough about me. How’s everything at the office?”
*
When you got back home, the meeting was mostly over but apparently Bucky and Sam had stayed for a short talk with your father. Even Ian was sent out of the room which gave you a strange satisfaction but it didn’t last very long when you saw him smirking while talking on the phone in the living room. You stepped inside and flung yourself on the couch, crossing your arms while waiting for him to finish.
“Yeah no, because I said—that’s what I’m saying, just be prepared for anything, we don’t know whose territory it might be next. If it’s ours…”
You checked your nails, humming a song just so that you could get on his nerves and Ian stole a look at you.
“I’ll call you later,” he said and hung up, then put his phone into the inner pocket of his jacket. “Y/N.”
“Ian,” you said. “They kicked you out while the real bosses speak then?”
“I had to step outside to make some calls,” he said and you hummed.
“Before or after they kicked you out?”
“Better than not being invited in at all,” he stated, making your jaw clench. “I half expected to see you eavesdropping in the hallway, you surprised me.”
You clicked your tongue, then shot him a fake smile.
“Do they ask you to bring them coffee?” you asked. “While they talk? Like an assistant.”
“I know you find this hard to accept, but I hold a very important part in those meetings,” he said. “Seeing that I’m the heir.”
“Are you though?” you asked. “Father didn’t officially announce you.”
“And he certainly won’t announce you,” he said and you crossed your legs, trying to seem calm and collected.
“So what is going to happen if our territory is next?” you asked him airily and he sat down on the couch across from yours.
“We are going to retaliate.”
“And you hope our territory is next,” you stated and he shrugged his shoulders.
“Not at all but if it is, we will handle it.”
“And the rest of the city?” you asked. “The other territories?”
He rolled his eyes. “You might want to check your priorities there, Y/N.”
“Do you seriously think our territory can just survive on its own?” you asked back. “Do you think if it somehow leads to a war, if any of the other territories get affected, we will still be fine? That will affect the truce and if the peace—”
“That’s the difference between you and me,” Ian cut you off. “The exact reason why uncle chose me as his heir over you. I don’t care much for peace.”
You stared at him, your heart beating in your ears because of the fury spreading through you over his words but before you could say anything, you heard Bucky’s voice in the foyer. You shot up from the couch, rushed to the foyer to see Bucky and Sam, your heels echoing on the marble floor.
“Hi Sam, nice to see you,” you said without even stopping, and grabbed Bucky’s arm to drag him towards the spiral stairs. “You’re coming with me.”
“What, it’s not good to see me?” Bucky asked but followed you without so much as an argument. You made your way through the hallway after you reached the top of the stairs, then pushed him into your room and slammed the door behind you.
“Charm if you wanted me in your bedroom, all you had to do was ask—”
“Keep dreaming,” you snapped at him and he shot you a mischievous grin.
“Hi.”
“What did you all talk about?”
He looked around the room as if trying to take it in as much as he could, and you followed his gaze as it fell on the fireplace and to your reading corner by the window, then to the antique mirror and your vanity before he approached your bed to sit down on it.
“Lovely room,” he commented and you crossed your arms.
“Tell me.”
“This relationship is starting to feel very one-sided—”
“That’s because it is,” you cut him off. “What is going on?”
He heaved a sigh and ran his vibranium hand through his hair.
“Well, at least now we have a name,” he said. “One of the men Stark captured, he said something.”
You arched a brow. “What did he say?”
“Hydra.”
You pulled your brows together, deep in thought.
“Doesn’t sound familiar,” you said. “What, are they new or something?”
Bucky scoffed a laugh and shook his head.
“Not at all,” he said. “We’re still gathering more information about them but they’re not new, that’s for sure.”
You clicked your tongue.
“And let me guess,” you said. “They’re not just a couple of people?”
Bucky shook his head again and you closed your eyes for a moment, letting out a breath as you opened them.
“Fuck.”
Bucky shot you a dry smile. “My reaction exactly.”
“But either way, if all families are working together against them,” you thought out loud. “It means—where did they attack in Stark’s territory, by the way? One of his places?”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
“A café.”
“Stark doesn’t own a café.”
“No he doesn’t.”
Your stomach did a painful flip as you stared at him.
“Civilians?” you asked, your voice hoarse. “They’re attacking civilians?”
“They’re attacking everyone including civilians,” Bucky answered and you pursed your lips together.
“So no code then,” you murmured. “They’ll create chaos and…”
“We will stop them before they do that,” Bucky assured you as he stood up from the bed. “But Charm, listen to me. From now on, nowhere in the city is one hundred percent safe, no matter whose territory it is. That whole bullshit you keep pulling with no bodyguards—”
“I don’t have a death wish,” you cut him off. “I know how dangerous it can get in a situation like this. I grew up with the same stories as you, remember?”
Bucky’s phone started vibrating and he checked the caller ID, then put it back in his pocket again.
“I gotta go,” he said. “Promise me you’ll be careful.”
“To repeat, I—”
“Charm,” he interrupted you as if he didn’t have the time for nonsense, his tone completely serious. “Promise me. Please.”
You frowned slightly, then shrugged your shoulders.
“Yeah sure,” you said and he nodded to himself, then walked to the door but stop when he heard you say his name.
“Bucky?”
He turned to you. “Yeah?”
“This whole thing, it won’t lead to the truce breaking, will it?” you asked, desperately trying to convince yourself. “Between the families?”
Bucky shot you an almost reprimanding look like he could see right through you.
“I’ll lie to you if you want me to but we did grow up with the same stories Charm,” he reminded you. “It will lead to something, and you know it as well as I do.”
With that, he walked out of your room and you sat down on the armchair across from the fireplace with a sigh, your heart slamming against your ribcage. You gritted your teeth together and leaned your head back, then pressed your palms on your eyes.
“Oh,” you said. “God damn it.”
Chapter 8
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#mob!bucky barnes x reader#mob!bucky#mob!bucky barnes#mob!bucky x reader#mob bucky#mob bucky barnes#mob boss!bucky#mob boss bucky barnes#mob bucky x reader#bucky x reader#mafia bucky x reader#mafia bucky barnes#mafia!bucky barnes#mafia!bucky#mafia!bucky barnes x reader#mob au
303 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
infinitechaosss
you are what you eat, sonic
ikkie16
Winner in Translation
journeyofeternity
Journey Of Eternity(free.palestine)
youngbasedprincey
young.based.PRINCEY
georgelouisthefirst
the god of macarons