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von2dutch · 3 days

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Sugar baby | Jey Uso

Chapter Five

Synopsis: Sex is not a big deal. ...You can have a no-strings-attached arrangement with someone you don’t care about.

Pairing: Jey Uso x Black Female reader | word count: 3.1k | Warning: smut, toxic behavior, protected sex | 18+ ONLY

Hey my loves! This is part five to three series near the end and I just want to say I thank you all so much for reading and enjoying it. God bless 🤎.

Series master list

Tag list

@shayaaaaaaa

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@whatdoeseverybodywant

@empressdede

@superpietom

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@reci1996

@christinabae

@xseetdellzx

Lastly, enjoy

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Last night I cried, tossed and turned

Woke up with dry eyes

My mind was racing, feet were pacing

Lord, help me, please tell me what I have gotten into

Ran my three miles to clear my mind

As the hauntingly emotional notes of "Emotional Rollercoaster" by Vivian Green filled the air, Dakota huddled in the bathtub, her legs pulled close to her chest, sobbing uncontrollably as tears of despair streamed down her cheeks.

It had been a full five weeks since the incident, and her mental state had steadily deteriorated. The world appeared devoid of vibrancy in her perception, leaving her submerged in an unrelenting state of anguish and hopelessness.

Dakota had fled back to her hometown, Chicago, to seek refuge with her grandmother. She couldn't bear the thought of staying in her apartment where Jey could easily find her, and the mere sight of him filled her with anger and resentment. The distance from Jey also served as an escape from the constant barrage of calls and texts from Joshua, whom she had tried in vain to cut off all contact with. Despite her efforts, Joshua's persistent attempts to reach her were like a relentless wave, always finding a way to push through her defenses. She hated him.

Dakota's mental state was in shambles, and the online exposure of her private pictures had left her feeling humiliated and defeated. The once confident and radiant woman had succumbed to a deep depression, her self-image shattered into a million pieces. She felt violated and hopeless, unable to shake off the shame and judgment that now weighed heavily on her soul.

Depression had slithered into the depths of Dakota's being and settled in, refusing to be shaken. She embraced its cold embrace, isolating herself from the world around her, turning even her closest friend Jasmine away. The only person who had access to her was her grandmother, who provided a safe haven for her to retreat to. Anger mingled with her depression, fueling a bitter and resentful fire within her. She was overwhelmed by her emotions, struggling to breathe under the weight of her emotional turmoil.

The only thing she wondered was why? The one person she thought loved her so much and respected her put her private images online to possibly sent to someone to hurt her. She couldn’t bear to believe but it was true in her mind. Jey the one person who cherished her with so much love and affection crushed her in the most gut wrenching way possible. She couldn’t understand how someone who hurt her so bad she still loved someone she wanted to hate so bad she still loved so deeply.

Yesterday, I told myself I was gonna be okay

Gonna start a new day, be truly happy

I was gonna take control of me

But eventually reality hit me mentally, physically, emotionally

And I opened my eyes and realized

As Dakota sat still in her bathtub, her knees tucked up against her chest. The cold, porcelain surface felt like a sharp contrast to the numbness that had settled over her soul. Her eyes were red and puffy from countless tears shed in sorrow and heartbreak. The warmth of the water that enveloped her body was the only comfort she could find in a world that seemed to have turned against her. Naked and vulnerable, she stared listlessly into the water, a silent testament to her emotional turmoil.

"Just why?" echoed through the bathroom as Dakota sobbed, tears streaming down her face without an end in sight. The pain and betrayal she felt were etched onto her features as she repeated the question, her voice cracking with anguish. She couldn't understand what could have possibly driven Jey to hurt her in such a devastating way. The thought of him sharing her intimate pictures online felt like a knife twisting in her heart, shredding whatever trust and love she had left.

Just why?

Before Dakota could do anything else Jasmine stormed into the bathroom, her eyes wide with fear and determination. She found Dakota sitting in the bathtub, her body curled up with her knees against her chest. "Dakota stop!" Jasmine shouted, her voice a mix of desperation and firmness. "You're not going to do this to yourself." As she knelt down beside the tub, she grabbed Dakota's trembling hands, her grip firm but gentle. "I’m not letting you go down this path again Kota stop please.”

“Jas just leave me alone.” Dakota sniffed , keeping her eyes on the wall infront of her not daring to look Jasmine in her eyes.

Jasmine's words sliced through the air, sharp and demanding. "No, you're my best friend, Dakota. Do you honestly think I'm going to let you drown yourself?" The tone of her voice was filled with determination and concern, leaving no room for argument. She stood there, her eyes blazing with a mix of anger and worry, refusing to let Dakota give in to her despair.

Jasmine's tone was firm and resolute, her eyes fixed on Dakota with a mixture of urgency and determination. "Dakota, get out of this tub now," she commanded. "Or so God help me, I'll drag your ass out of there myself." The threat was clear, and there was no room for negotiation. Jasmine was not going to let her friend give in to her despair.

Jasmine knew all too well the depths of despair that Dakota had sunken into before. She had witnessed her friend's struggles through various trials and tribulations, but nothing quite compared to the time when Dakota lost her mother. Losing the only parent she had left Dakota feeling shattered and alone, like a ship lost at sea with no one to cling to for comfort. Jasmine understood the weight of that loss and the toll it had taken on her friend's delicate mental state.

Jasmine finally convinced Dakota to get out of the tub, wrapping her in a large, fluffy towel. She led Dakota towards her bedroom, sitting her down on the edge of the bed. "You need to snap out of this," Jasmine said firmly, her voice filled with a mixture of anger and concern. "You can't keep punishing yourself like this."

“Jasmine what the fuck else am I supposed to do huh? My life is over I don’t want to be here I love someone that fucked me over so what else should I be happy about to stay here.”

“Dakota stop that shit! You have many reason why you deserve to be here not only because of me but because of everyone that loves and cares about you think about your grandma, think about your passion for fashion but most importantly your self.”

Jasmine's words hung in the air, the weight of her truth impossible for Dakota to ignore. "Stop punishing yourself for things you can't control," she implored. "Me and you both know Jey hadn’t done that Kota that man loves you and I’ve seen it with my own eyes he loves you.” The conviction in her voice was palpable, as if trying to shake Dakota out of her despair and make her see the truth of the situation.

Dakota turned to face Jasmine, her eyes flashing with a mix of disbelief and anger. "You're taking his side now?" she accused, her voice trembling with emotion. Her hands clenched the towel tightly around her body, as if trying to shield herself from the world.

Jasmine met Dakota's gaze, her own expression resolute. "No, I'm not taking his side," she replied, her tone steady. "But I won't watch you drown in this cycle of self-blame and despair."

“Dakota I just think you’re taking this too far without hearing him out.”

“Hear him out for what Jasmine! What could he fucking possibly say oh he’s sorry?.” Dakota laughed historically as she found it funny in a dark way. “Sorry huh? Fuck him I don’t give a damn what he has to say I’m done.”

Jasmine flinched at the venom in Dakota's voice, her heart aching for her friend. "I'm not asking you to forgive him," she reiterated, her tone gentle.

Dakota's laughter echoed through the room, a harsh, bitter sound. "Sorry? As if that could fix any fucking thing," she mocked, her voice filled with hurt and anger. "I don't give a damn about his apologizes or explanations. I'm done, done with him."

“Kota just hear hi— no Fuck you jasmine.” Dakota shouted startling her grandmother that was next door to her room. Dakota walked closer to Jasmine staring into her eyes.

“Fuck me?”

“Yes! You.”

“Dakota you’ve lost your fucking mind! I’ve been your best friend for years and the one time I try to tell you that you’re taking things too fucking far it’s fuck me?.” Jasmine snapped her tone hissed and groaned in disbelief as she took a step back.

Dakota's voice rose, filled with raw emotion and unchecked anger, as she yelled, tears streaming down her face. "Oh, well let me guess, you feel companionship for him, huh?" Her voice trembled with pain and frustration. "Well good for fucking you! You and him, him and you, you and fucking him can go to hell!" The words spilled out like venom, pouring out of her like a torrent of suppressed emotions finally unleashed.

The anger in Dakota's voice was palpable as she faced off against Jasmine. "You and everyone else picked him over me!" she yelled, her eyes burning with betrayal. "The one person you've known all your fucking life!"

Jasmine flinched, the hurt and shock visible on her face as Dakota's words hit her like a gut punch. "Dakota, please, just listen..." she tried to interject, but Dakota wasn't done.

The weight of betrayal and hurt was evident in Dakota's voice as she stood in the middle of the room, her cheeks stained with tears. "No!" she cried out, her arm shaking as she gestured emphatically. "Why, Jasmine? Why did he do that to me?"

Jasmine's heart ached, seeing her best friend in such a devastated state. She stepped closer, her own eyes filled with tears. "I-I don't know, Kota," she stammered, her voice choked with emotion.

Jasmine wrapped her arms around Dakota, pulling her into a tight embrace. She rocked her back and forth on the bed, offering comfort and support. The air around them was thick with sadness and grief as Dakota's shoulders shook with silent sobs, her emotions completely frayed and raw.

She was a wreck.

Jasmine held onto Dakota tightly, her arms wrapped around her like a lifeline. The two friends sat silently on the bed, the room enveloped in a heavy silence punctuated only by Dakota's occasional sniffles.

Jasmine finally spoke, her voice soft and gentle. "I know it's tough," she murmured, her hand stroking Dakota's hair soothingly. "But you'll get through this, Kota. I promise."

Dakota sniffed, her voice cracking as she looked up at Jasmine. "How?" she whispered. "How can I trust anyone again after what he did?"

“By putting your trust in god Kota, all we can do is pray.”

A Grandmother’s love

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Dakota.Valentine • 50 mins ago

“So are you gonna hide here forever?”

“Huh?” Dakota said as she turned to look away from the tv towards her grandmother as she sat on the couch watching The Wayne brothers.

“I said are you going to hide here forever babygirl?” She asked once more as she stared at Dakota waiting for an answer.

“Well yeah if that’s what it takes.” Dakota shrugged unsure of her answer but confident with it. If this what it took for peace of mind then so be it.

"Suga, running away won't fix your problems," she said again, her voice tinged with a hint of disappointment. "And thinking it'll bring you peace of mind is only going to make things worse."

Dakota's grandmother's words cut through the air, her tone laced with a mixture of love and sternness. She fixed Dakota with a knowing gaze, her eyes reflecting years of wisdom and experience.

Dakota shifted uncomfortably on the couch, feeling the weight of her grandmother's words. She knew she couldn't hide forever, but admitting it was another thing altogether.

Dakota's grandmother continued, her gaze unwavering. "Baby, you may think you're in control by running away, but you're not. You're just digging yourself a deeper hole."

Just then, Dakota's phone buzzed with an incoming call from an unknown number. She rolled her eyes, assuming it was Jasmine trying to reach her.

"Answer it, suga," she urged. "Might be important."

Without much choice, Dakota reached for her phone and hesitantly answered the call. As soon as she answered, the familiar voice on the other end confirmed her suspicions.

"Ko baby," Jey's voice echoed through the receiver, soft and strained.

Dakota's heartbeat quickened, the mix of anger and pain flooding back in an instant. She froze, her mind racing as she held the phone to her ear.

She froze for a moment, her emotions swirling within her. Hearing Jey's voice stirred up a mix of anger and pain that threatened to break her resolve. But then, with a clenched jaw, she mustered all her willpower and pressed the hang-up button, cutting off the call abruptly.

Dakota dropped her phone onto the couch, shaking her head. "He can forget about it," she muttered through gritted teeth. "I'm not falling for his apologies this time."

Her Grandma watched her with a mix of sadness and understanding. She knew the pain and anger were eating away at Dakota, but she also understood that sometimes tough love was necessary.

"Honey, hanging up on him like that won't solve anything," she said gently. "You need to confront this head-on, not run away from it."

Dakota rolled her eyes again, frustration boiling up within her. "It's easy for you to say, Nanny," she retorted, her voice slightly raised. "You're not the one who got betrayed and hurt."

Grandma took a deep breath, her patience visibly wearing thin but her love for Dakota unwavering. "Exactly," she said firmly. "That's why I see this situation more clearly than you do. You're too blinded by your anger to see the truth."

Dakota huffed, her eyes narrowing defiantly. "And what truth is that, huh?" she challenged, her voice dripping with skepticism. "That he really didn't leak those pictures of me online? That he's completely innocent and blameless in all this?"

Grandma regarded her granddaughter with a steely gaze, refusing to back down. "Yes," she said simply. "That's exactly what I believe. You're just too stubborn to consider the possibility."

Dakota scoffed, her frustration mounting. "And how can you possibly believe that? He's the only one who had those pictures, Grandma. It's like you're just blindly trusting him!"

Grandma shook her head, her voice tinged with a mix of disappointment and annoyance. "No, sugar, I'm not blindly trusting him," she corrected. "I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt, something you refuse to do."

Grandma took a deep breath, her tone softened as she recalled the memories. "Girl, don't you remember how he was there for you during your hardest moments?" she reminded Dakota, her voice tinged with nostalgia.

"He helped pay for your mama's funeral, without a second thought. And remember how you called me after you got into a relationship with him? I could hear the excitement in your voice, honey. You were happier than I'd ever heard you."

Grandma's eyes searched Dakota's face, hoping to see some flicker of realization. "And let's not forget about the support he gave you whenever you needed it," she continued, her voice steady. "He was there for you through it all."

Dakota's expression remained defiant, her anger still clouding her judgment. But a tiny crack in her wall of rage appeared, as if Grandma's words had momentarily weakened her defenses.

Her grandma only wanted the best for her but she could tell Dakota’s anger got in the way of that no matter how much pull she tried to ease the situation nothing worked.

He was the love of her granddaughters life she had never seen her so blossomed with love till she met him and now everything was broken to glass that she thought maybe she could fix.

Grandma pounced on that sign of vulnerability, hoping to keep pushing forward. "Baby girl," she said, her tone gentle but firm. "You've always been a fighter, yes, but you also have a good heart. Deep down, you know he didn't do this to hurt you."

Dakota paused, her expression conflicted. There was a hint of uncertainty in her eyes, as if Grandma's words were starting to break through the thick wall of anger she had built around her heart.

Grandma pressed on, sensing that she was getting to her. "Just think about it, darlin'," she pleaded. "Why would he help you through everything if he didn't truly care for you? Why pay for your mama's funeral if his intentions were malicious?"

Dakota's resolve wavered, her shoulders slumping slightly as Grandma's words echoed in her mind.

Grandma leaned forward on the couch, her gaze steady. "You're a smart girl, Dakota," she said firmly. "You know the answers to those questions. But you're just too angry to accept them."

Dakota's eyes darted away, a mixture of anger and uncertainty swirling within her. "But the pictures..." she protested weakly.

Grandma shook her head, gently shutting down Dakota's protest. "Those pictures don't prove anything, darlin'," she said, her voice soft yet firm. "They could have come from anywhere. You're just assuming the worst without even talking to him about it."

Dakota fidgeted on the couch, her defenses weakening more by the minute.

Grandma placed a comforting hand on Dakota's knee, offering a gentle touch. "Baby girl, you have to confront this head-on," she urged. "Instead of running away, you need to talk to him and get to the truth. Only then can you move forward and find some peace."

Dakota chewed on her lip, her expression conflicted. She knew Grandma had a point, but her stubbornness and anger held her back from admitting it. She just wanted to forget him but she couldn’t because she loved him dispite her anger towards him.

Grandma softened her tone even further, trying to appeal to Dakota's emotions. "Think about it, sugar," she pleaded. "You two have been through too much to throw it all away over a misunderstanding. You owe it to yourself to at least talk to him and figure out what really happened."

Dakota's gaze dropped to the floor, her shoulders slumping even further. The fire in her eyes was starting to dim, replaced by a hint of acceptance.

Grandma could sense that Dakota was starting to crack, and she cautiously continued. "And let's not forget that communication is key in any relationship," she said gently. "You can't just shut him out without giving him a chance to explain."

Dakota let out a sigh, her eyes still fixed on the floor. She was visibly struggling with her emotions, the anger and betrayal warring with rationality in her mind.

Grandma noticed the struggle within Dakota and seized the opportunity to push a little further. "You don't even have to forgive him right away," she reassured her. "But give him a chance to explain himself, at least."

Dakota's eyes flickered up for a moment, her guard slowly dropping. She still held onto her anger, but there was a hint of curiosity as well.

Grandma saw the flicker of curiosity in Dakota's gaze and used it to her advantage. "Isn't that what you want, sugar?" she asked gently. "To know the truth? To finally have an answer?"

Dakota's resistance wavered even more, her expression conflicted. She wanted answers, but she was terrified of being hurt again.

That was all she wanted was the answers but could she handle it? Could she handle being also wrong to run away from her problems rather than face them and learn the truth.

Grandma leaned closer to her Dakota , her eyes filled with empathy and understanding. "Listen, darlin', I know you're scared," she admitted. "You've been through a lot, and it's natural to want to protect yourself from getting hurt again. But sometimes, to truly move on and find peace, you have to face your fears and take the risk."

Dakota swallowed hard, her eyes still downcast. Her mind was racing with conflicting thoughts and emotions.

Grandma reached out and took Dakota's hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I'm not asking you to forget what happened," she said softly. "But give Joshua a fair chance to explain himself. At least listen to what he has to say."

Dakota's grip tightened on her grandmother's hand, but her expression was still conflicted. She knew her grandmother was right, but the scars of betrayal ran deep.

Could she forgive him ?

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2.am

As the night grew darker, a soft knocking echoed through the quiet house. Dakota’s Grandma stirred, casting a brief glance at the clock—2:00 AM. She slowly rose from her bed, a mix of curiosity and concern coursing through her.

Approaching the door, she fumbled with the lock before slowly opening it. Standing there, silhouetted against the dim lighting, was Jey. His eyes were heavy with fatigue and determination.

"Can I come in?" Jey asked quietly, his voice gravelly. She regarded him with a mixture of surprise and concern before nodding and stepping aside.

Joshua entered the house, his movements clumsy in his late-night stupor. They made their way to the living room, the tension between them palpable.

He took a late night flight to Chicago the minute he found out where Dakota was hiding at from jasmine. He wasn’t going to risk anything to speak to her no matter how tireless he was from a match he had earlier on in the night he was still going to fight his way to her.

"Is she here?" Jey asked, his gaze darting around the room, searching for Dakota.

Jey's eyes were visibly red and puffy, evidence of the tears he'd shed. His mullet was disheveled, and his usual confident demeanor seemed to have crumbled. He looked weary and vulnerable, as if he'd been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

As he spoke, his voice wavered slightly. "Is Dakota here?" he asked once more,, his gaze searching the room for any sign of her.

She nodded, her expression softened by the sight of his weary appearance. "She's in her room," she replied quietly. "Probably not asleep, though. She's been restless since that incident."

Jey's shoulders slumped at the mention of the incident, guilt etched across his face. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, attempting to compose himself.

His heart twisted at the sound of her pain and animosity, each word she spoke like a knife twisting deep into his chest. The idea that he had caused her pain, that he had hurt her to the point of her hating him, cut through him like a hot blade.

The realization that he had caused so much harm stung deeply, and Jey felt a wave of guilt and self-loathing wash over him. He wanted to scream at himself, to beat himself up for being so careless with someone he cared for so deeply.

She was his beautiful bloom tree that made him bloom.

As Jey ran his hand through his hair, the movement revealed his signature mullet, now with the distinctive red tips at the ends. The stark contrast against the muted light of the room only seemed to emphasize the weariness in his expression.

Grandma's gaze stayed on Jey, her maternal instincts stirred by the sight of his disheveled state. "You look like you've been through the wringer, honey," she observed, her voice laced with concern.

Josh let out a weary sigh, his shoulders slumping further as if the weight of the world was pressing upon him. "I have," he admitted softly, his eyes fixed on the floor.

Dakota slowly stepped out of her room, her eyes still heavy with sleep. She rubbing her eyes, her hair disheveled and a blanket draped over her shoulders.

"Nanny, who was at the..." her voice trailed off as she noticed Jey standing there. Her guard immediately went up, and her expression hardened. "What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Dakota!” Her grandmother shouted out at her with a glare for her language.

“Sorry nanny.” Dakota sighed trying to contain her anger which held high.

Jey looked up as Dakota appeared, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of her. He swallowed hard, mustering the courage to speak. "I needed to talk to you," he said quietly. "Please, just hear me out."

Dakota's eyes narrowed, her walls firmly in place. She wrapped the blanket tighter around herself, a futile attempt to fortify her defenses.

Josh took a tentative step toward her, his movements slow and measured. "Can we talk in private?" he asked softly.

Dakota hesitated, her gaze flickering between her grandmother's retreating form and Jey. After a moment, she relented, her resistance cracking slightly. "Fine," she said grudgingly, gesturing toward her room. "But make it quick."

Jey followed Dakota into her room, the door closing softly behind him. The room was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from a small bedside lamp.

Dakota leaned against the wall, her arms crossed defensively. A tense silence hung in the air, the tension between them palpable.

Jey stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, his hands shoved into his pockets. He glanced around, his gaze lingering on the photographs and trinkets that adorned her walls and shelves—reminders of happier times between them.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself before finally looking at her. "I know you're angry," he began quietly. "And I don't blame you."

Jey took a slow step forward, closing the distance between them a fraction. "I didn't leak those pictures," he said firmly, his voice tinged with desperation.

Dakota's gaze flickered up to meet his, her eyes cold. She didn't respond, but her expression remained guarded and skeptical.

Jey could see the skepticism in her eyes and felt desperation well up within him. He took another step forward, his voice growing more insistent.

"I swear to you, Dakota, I would never do no shit like that to hurt you," he pleaded, his voice cracking slightly. "I love you. I would never betray you like that and you know that.”

Jey's eyes were pleading, his expression filled with a mixture of sadness and determination. "Please," he said softly, his voice filled with vulnerability. "Please believe me. I didn't do this."

Dakota's expression wavered, the wall she had built around her heart cracking ever so slightly. She wanted to believe him, but the pain of betrayal weighed heavily on her heart.

Joshua took a final step toward her, closing the gap between them completely. He gently reached out, placing a tentative hand on her arm.

"I swear, Dakota," he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. "I would never do anything to hurt you.."

Dakota's gaze flicked up to meet his, her walls slowly crumbling under the weight of his earnestness.

Josh’s grip on her arm tightened slightly, his thumb tracing gentle circles on her skin. He stepped even closer, closing the remaining gap between their bodies.

"Please," he pleaded, his eyes searching hers. "I need you to believe me. I love you. You're the most important person in my life, and I would never intentionally hurt you like that ko.”

Dakota's expression softened, her defenses slipping further. A hint of doubt and confusion warred with her anger.

Jey's expression hardened as he locked eyes with her. "You hate me, huh?" he said quietly, his voice laced with resignation.

Dakota nodded, crossing her arms defiantly. "Yeah, I do, I really fucking do.” she replied, her voice cold and distant. "And nothing you say is going to change that."

Jey let out a frustrated sigh, his eyes narrowing as he observed her stubborn expression. "You don't believe me," he stated, his voice tinged with anger.

Dakota shrugged, unfazed. "Damn right, I don't," she retorted, her gaze flickering away from him.

Jey felt a surge of irritation, his frustration mounting. He took a step closer, closing the space between them again.

"Why the fuck you gotta be so damn stubborn Dakota?” he asked, his voice raising slightly. "Why can't you even consider the possibility that I could be telling the fucking truth?.”

Dakota's eyes flared with defiance, her stubbornness refusing to waver. "Because it's easier for me to hate you than to believe in you," she shot back, her voice laced with bitterness.

Jey's anger flared at her response, his jaw clenching. "Nah it’s just easier to believe I did it then to believe I didn’t ," he snapped, his gaze burning into hers.

"Is it, though?" Dakota retorted, her eyes narrowing. "Or is it easier for you to blame me for being stubborn than to accept that you played a role in all this?"

Jey clenched his fists, his patience wearing thin. "Played a role in what? I ain’t did shit Dakota," he growled. "I didn't do anything wrong."

"You think so?" Dakota scoffed, her voice filled with skepticism. "You really think you didn't do anything wrong at all?"

Josh’s irritation boiled over, his voice rising to a near-yell. "Fuck Dakota, I already told you I didn't leak that shit!”

“But you just can’t fucking seem to get that through your damn head can you?” Josh replied but he stopped in his tracks as he saw red roses sitting on her nightstand with a card written on it big and bold. “Joe Anoaʻi.”

"Joe," he muttered under his breath, his expression darkening with jealousy. “You can accept gifts from him but not me right?”

“Josh it shouldn’t even matter we ar— It should fucking matter Dakota!” Joshua shouted startling Dakota as he stared at her with almost darken eyes.

His shout echoed through the room, its intensity shocking even to him. His eyes, usually filled with warmth, now seemed almost dark as he locked gazes with Dakota.

He had grown weary of waiting patiently, feeling drained not only by his efforts but also by the fact that she could hold conversations with Joe, while she seemed unable to do the same with him.

“It doesn’t matter though because we aren’t to fucking gether!”

“So what you fucking with my cousin now? Is that what it is.” He asked, he could see the anger and frustration building within him as he walked back and forth, each step punctuated by his clenched fists. The tension in the room was palpable as he tried to keep his emotions in check.

“No! But that’s the problem you get to assuming things without knowing the fucking truth.” She shot back.

“I fucking hate you.”

Joshua came to an abrupt halt as if everything else around him vanished in that moment, fixating on the single word "hate." He made his way towards Dakota, his gaze fixed on her, and his features softened. "You don’t mean that ko.”

“No I do.” Dakota's response cut through the air like cold ice water. She pivoted on her heel, deliberately turning her back on him, refusing to spare him even a single glance.

“I know you’re mad at me right now but Dakota me and you both know you don’t m— NO I do mean it I mean it so fucking much I hate you!”

“Everyday I wish I hadn’t met you but I did and I have to live and regret it so yes I do hate you matter fact you can leave.” Dakota said once more as the tears she so desperately didn’t want to drop did.

“Aight I’ll go…but before I leave I want you to know ko that even though you hate me I still love you and never will stop loving you.” Joshua said as tears filed his eyes he walked towards the bedroom door walking his footsteps becoming faint the more he walked away.

Hate is a powerful emotion, and when it emerges between people who love each other, it can feel like a natural part of the relationship. No matter how strong the love may seem, true colors are bound to show eventually. It's important to ask yourself.

Is hate a strong word for you?.

To be continued…..

So this is the end of chapter five! I hope you all enjoyed it.

Y’all I’ve been so busy watching interview with the vampire and all I can say is girl it’s crazy but so good! So far Claudia is my favorite. I kinda of used one of the scenes from I think season two with Claudia and Louis arguing about amand.

AND most importantly I want to thank you all for getting me to 6k followers! I appreciate it so much!!!! 🫶🏾

Feel free to drop any opinions on the characters or chapter and a till next time. God bless🎀

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theinfinitedivides · 1 month

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tout essayer? - dadju & tayc heri'live - #1

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sttoru · 7 months

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‘no matter how much time the king of curses spends with you, he doesn’t think he will ever understand you or your affectionate behaviour towards him.’

☀︎｜tags. true form sukuna x female reader. heian era sukuna. fluff. bits of mentions of blood & murder. big size difference. cold-big-monster-having-a-small-soft-spot-for-a-single-human trope. reader gets called ‘little one, brat’. not proof read! let me know if you like my characterisation or not; it’s my first sukuna fic.

a kiss on the cheek is one of the most innocent - yet apparently also the most difficult - things to do. it’s a small form of intimacy; not that hard to do. it’s really as simple as planting your lips on your beloved’s cheek. then all you do is retreat — maybe get a kiss on the cheek back from him. or on the lips.

“get moving. i’m not waiting all day for you.” sukuna grumbles. you had suddenly stopped in your tracks and the king of curses was confused as to what the reason might have been. the two of you had been walking through the courtyard for a few minutes now — well, you basically had to drag him out to take a little stroll together.

and now the same you was quiet. it bothered sukuna; you were always so chatty around him when it was just the two of you. he might have called you an ‘annoying brat’ for it, but he secretly enjoyed your company and voice.

“c-coming.” you reply in a quiet mumble, eyes glancing over at the monstrous frame that stood a few steps away. his dull yet sharp gaze was focused on you — like he was sizing you up. or rather: trying to figure out what’s wrong with the change in behaviour you showed.

sukuna watches you as you hurry over to his side again. he resumes walking, hands folded over each other under the material of his kimono.

though, he couldn’t yet let go of the fact that you were acting different around him. the king of curses’ suspicion only grew once he noticed how your fingers fiddled with your obi. you were anxious about something.

sukuna shakes his head slightly. some humans sure are difficult to understand, he thinks to himself. your happy yet reserved personality when you usually interacted with him had disappeared and made place for a nervous wreck. trying to figure out why made sukuna’s head hurt.

were you finally scared of him? like all other humans and curses were?

he doesn’t know why, but it felt like he would hate for such thing to happen. sukuna usually wouldn’t care if someone resents, fears or somehow even admires him. only you could make him think and care about such difficult and maybe even trivial things.

“uhm,” you break off his train of thoughts and his eyes are instantly on yours again, “may i do something really quickly?”

sukuna’s face doesn’t show any change in expression, but a small nod tells you everything you need to know. you clear your throat, “can you please lower your head towards me?”

lowering his head? oh, you got some guts. if anyone else had said that to him, sukuna would have obliterated them; there wouldn’t have been anything but red bloody dust left of their body.

but then again: it’s you. all exceptions the king of curses makes are for you.

sukuna slightly lowers his head to your level so you could do whatever you needed to. he’d be lying if he said that his curiosity wasn’t piqued. it always was when he was around you.

you gulp. it was time to do what you’ve longed to do ever since the beginning of your stroll: give the ryomen sukuna a kiss on the cheek. you don’t think he’d be mad—at least he never seriously gets mad at you. only to get a reaction out of you since your responses are always ‘intensely amusing’—as he says.

“go on.” sukuna’s breath hits your cheeks. he was so close—too close that it made you even more nervous in a way. as if you hadn’t even had your first kiss yet.

you swallow your fears and just go for it. your lips attach to his cheek in the fraction of a second—the speed of light—before they leave. it was right under his right set of eyes.

you take a step back and clear your throat. you try to escape the embarrassment of sukuna’s possible reaction by continuing your stroll, though were stopped by a strong hand firmly grabbing your forearm.

“where’d you think you’re going?”

sukuna’s deep voice echoes through your ears. you were surprised to hear the tone of it; almost soft. a tone sukuna uses on rare occasions: in your presence.

you turn your head around and smile sheepishly at the king of curses before you. he doesn’t return the same (not that you expected him to), however he does unexpectedly ruffle your hair for a split second. or at least he attempts to.

his large and warm palm lands on top of your head and he gives it a little and subtle shake. sukuna had seen you do a similar action to someone else before, thus he concluded that he could do it to you. maybe as a form of endearment or. . whatever you used it as.

he did find the way you tried to scurry away after giving him a kiss very adorable. even if he wouldn’t say so out loud.

“now, come along. we don’t have all day.” sukuna nonchalantly mutters after retracting his hand. it left as fast as it came, though you were still stunned at the slight show of affection the king of curses returned.

you instantly catch up to sukuna again—walking next to him as fast as your legs could take you. you were a bit more at ease after you got a positive reaction to your little kiss. it was a pity that he didn’t smirk or laugh at you—maybe mocked you like he usually would. but that head pat made up for it.

even if it did leave your hair a little disheveled.

you couldn’t properly see sukuna’s face, but the faint smirk tugging at his lips was undeniably there. even if it was for just a split second.

“how very interesting.” sukuna mutters under his breath so you wouldn’t catch on. he sighs and shakes his head, unable to keep out that memory of you looking so cute—standing on the tip of your toes to plant a kiss on his cheek with your comically small hand on his jaw line. he doesn’t know why he found that to be so thrilling.

you flutter your eyelashes. you were curious about what he might have commented on, “may i ask what you had just said? i didn’t quite hear it.”

a short second of silence hangs before sukuna tilts his head to the right to look down at you again; his face expressionless, but still having a hint of a grin on his lips.

“i said you better hurry before i gobble you up right this instant.” he replies, (playfully) intimidating you with his sharp red eyes that glinted with a form of danger.

you shiver (though knew the threat was an empty one) and instantly pick up your pace. you even get ahead of him, walking as fast as your legs could. you answer with a curt ‘my apologies’ and walk like you actually have somewhere to be.

sukuna’s grin only grows as he sees you get ahead of him. if you had turned around, maybe you could have caught onto that light flicker of affection in his expression.

“i’m coming for you, little one.” sukuna adds just to ignite some more fear into you and you react as expected, “you’re not escaping me today.”

it was a funny sight; your reactions always make him enjoy his time with you even more than he already (secretly) was.

the way his body reacts in mysterious ways when you’re around, is still very much an unsolved riddle to the king of curses. and the reasons as to why you aren’t scared of him and can easily give him all your ‘love’ are also still yet to be discovered.

until then, sukuna will continue to enjoy teasing you.

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk x y/n #sukuna x you #jjk fluff #jjk fic #sukuna ryoumen x reader

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sweet-as-an-angel · 5 months

Text

♡ Bimbo Barracks Bunny ♡

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Rough Sex, Objectification, Dumbification, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Possessive! 141, Mean! 141, Manhandling, Slut-Shaming, Fem! Reader. ꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷

Expect a lot of objectification.

Manhandling, too.

And wolf whistling.

It’s absolutely constant when you’re with the 141 – especially considering you’re their 24/7 fuck toy.

More days than not, you’ll be subject to a rough and thorough pounding from one or more of your boyfriends, hear them tell you to “Take it, you stupid whore,” as they slam into you from behind, holding you down over the edge of a counter.

Slut-shaming is to be expected, too.

You can’t wear a single outfit in peace — especially if it’s a skirt or dress.

Someone’s sticking their hand up there on their way past and making a grab for whatever their hands can find purchase on.

Dumbification Central.

“Too fuckin’ stupid for your own good – need a big, strong man to tell you what to do, don’t you."

They’ll buy you things to make up for their roughness with you if (when) they see you limping after an encounter with them. Ghost’s the main offender in this case; for what he can’t convey through words, he does through gifts. And what scandalous gifts they can be.

He especially likes dressing you up like his doll, buying you things he knows will fit you, things that will make it so much harder for him to resist the urge to ravage you whenever you bend over or come and sit on his lap.

They call you ‘Princess’ ‘Bunny’ 'Kitty' ‘Pretty girl’, or (Price’s favourite) ‘Daddy’s girl.’

They definitely smack your backside all the time, btw. The second they see the chance, they’ll pounce on it – on you – reeling back and slapping your ass.

The yelp you make when you feel the sharp sting is just too cute to pass up, as is the wounded, wide-eyed look you give them.

They also love showing their ownership over you: marking you up for the next man to see when he tears your dress off or pushes your skirt up, only to see that someone else has ruined you first (usually with their cum still oozing out of you, too).

Price is the most extreme — he has a crippling breeding kink and it shows.

More often than not, he’ll bend you over his desk and pull your hips as close to his as humanly possible, trying to get as deep inside you as he can.

“My girl, only good for takin’ my cock and havin’ my kids – gonna make me into a real daddy, hm?”

Entertain his kink for even a second and he’ll make sure you’re not going anywhere even after he’s done with you; he has to keep you plugged up and make sure his seed takes, after all.

Ghost loves to steal you away and throw you over his shoulder when he’s needy.

He’s like a caveman in the way he throws you onto the nearest surface without ceremony and tears your clothes off, spreading your legs and pressing his clothed bulge against your cunt.

He growls, too. Makes you squeal when he grips your panties by the bridge and tears them off, leaving you exposed and ready for him to use as much he likes.

He treats you as his personal cum bucket, emptying his load into you as many times as he pleases, using you.

“Good-for-nothing slut, just beggin’ to be chased down and fucked in that tight little outfit. Did’ya think I wouldn’t notice? Practically had your arse hangin’ outta your skirt, just waitin’ to have your guts rearranged by me.”

Soap’s a menace - a cruel one - and takes his time with you, edges you, makes sure that foreplay drags on for a good hour or two before actually stuffing his girth inside you (given he has the time).

He likes to make you nice and desperate – likes to have you begging for him and eating out of his hand before he’ll entertain the idea of letting you take him.

“Think ya deserve it, lass? Think ya deserve to have me fuck whatever thoughts you’ve got rollin’ round in that empty head a’ yer’s out?”

He’ll grin down at you as you pant and plead, shutting you up by making you suck his fingers.

“Well, if ye have any thoughts in there.”

Gaz is the gentlest of the 141, but any man is subject to a power shift. Especially against someone they perceive as less intelligent than them.

And you’re no exception.

Gaz is the most likely to experience post-nut clarity, realising (and feeling immediate shame for) the way he spoke to you, the way he called you his “Fucking slut with no other purpose except to get me off,” was potentially hurtful to you.

Literally will not forgive himself – he’ll apologise, buy you things, hang his head in shame until you manage to (eventually) convince him that it’s alright, that you don’t mind, and that you actually enjoy when he turns a bit feral.

As do they all.

They’ll pimp you out to König sometimes, too. But only if they can sit in and watch supervise.

There’s something just so disgustingly satisfying about watching you get your insides visibly rearranged by the 6’10 Austrian – especially when they can see the heavy bump of his cock in your stomach, making you cry out with every slam of his tip against your cervix.

“Scheiße– where’d you find this pretty little thing, Ghost? Didn’t think you were allowed prostitutes on base,”

He’s just as – if not more – mean than the 141. Especially if you cum before he does.

Doesn’t matter if you tell him you’re overstimulated, he’s still going to get his release, whether you like it or not.

“Shut it, Brat – you’ll take my cock for as long as I want you to. Keep whining and I’ll choke you with it.”

You’ll receive no help from the 141. Not when they’re on the precipice of an orgasm, at least.

Ghost will even goad König, telling him to show you who’s boss, to shove it in deeper – wanna see her cry.

You always end up covered in cum afterwards, panting while your cunt leaks with König’s semen, the clink of the man responsible’s belt in your periphery as he sorts himself out.

You’re always very well taken care of afterwards, though. Bath, bed, and plenty of rest, with as much food as you could want. And a cuddle session, of course.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

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quintinh43 · 4 months

Text

Heavy Heads and Heavy Hearts | Quinn Hughes

Summary: Quinn gets injured as a game. His girlfriend takes him and cares for him.

Pairings: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Anxiety, Head injury, food, angst, mentions of vomiting (no actual vomiting)

Notes: Hi guyss! Hope everyone is doing ok! Injured Quinn got the most votes, so here we are! This one is the longest one ive done so far, I definitely did not mean for it to be as long as it is but here we are. Also, im not a professionl in any way, so i cant say this is concussion accurate. I just went off of my experience in dealing with athletes that have Concussions, and my own Concussions lol. Anywaysss I hope yall enjoy. Love Soph.

---

There was something so gut-wrenching about watching the man you love get injured. One second, Quinn was cutting quickly around the back of the net, and the next, he was getting slammed into the boards hard. It was nothing. You get hit, you get up, and you keep going. It was simply a part of hockey.

Except this time, Quinn wasn't getting up. He wasn't moving at all. You stand up, heart in your throat. The room feels like it's tilting. The sharp shrill of the refs whistle cut through the air, stopping the play as the refs skate over to where Quinn is lying motionless on the ice.

They are calling for medics. Your head is spinning with the worst possible scenarios as you excuse yourself from your seat and practically sprint to the locker room. One of the security members holds out a hand to stop you.

"Ma'am, you can't be here, please exit this area"

Great. Just fucking great. This is exactly what you need right now. The overwhelming need that aches in your bones demanding to know that Quinn is ok makes you want to cry. Because now this fucker won't let you through. And you're nearly too panicked to do anything about it.

The logical route would be pulling out Quinns wallet, that has his ID in it, and explaining that you are his girlfriend. But with your anxiety high, and your heart in your throat logic is not the first thing on your mind.

"Listen buddy," you start, ready to absolutely rip this guy a new one. Thankfully for him, one of the trainers who knows you happens to be exiting the locker room.

"Let her through, Jace, that's Hughes' girl" he says, waving you forward. The security guard- Jace apparently, lets you pass with a grumble.

By the time you get rink side, Quinn is (half) conscious- thank God, and being half carried off the ice by Petey and Boeser. He's transfered to the care of two medics, who sit him on a bench and begin to check him over.

One of them is asking him questions gently, both to keep him awake and assess the damage to his head. While the other stabilizes his neck. "Can you tell me your full name and today's date?" One of the medics asks.

"Quintin Jerome Hughes," he slurs, eyes fluttering, "its Feb'uary... twenty-second, twenty-twenty-four"

Your breath hitches. He got the date wrong. You can't help the panic that rushes through you. "Good job Quinn, do you know where you are?"

"Van, Roger's arena," he mumbles, "playing hockey"

"Good," the medic hums. "we need to take off your equipment to make sure you aren't injured anywhere else. Is that ok?"

"Y/n" he mumbles, eyes closing and head tilting forward, his head snapped back up a moment later, and if the other medic hadn't had his head stabilized he would probably have mild whiplash.

"Stay awake for us, Quinn. Is Y/n someone you'd like us to call?"

You spring forward at the mention of your name, "I'm here," you say, pushing past a couple of people who are standing around, ready to assist if the situation gets worse.

"My girl" Quinn slurs, his lips tilting into a small smile. Your heart flutters at that. In the midst of his delirium, he still cares about you dearly.

"Hello Y/n, I'm Sam," the guy who's been asking him questions, "and that's Kieran," he says, nudging his head towards Kieran, who gives a small smile.

"Do you think you could help us remove his equipment?"

"Yes absolutely, just tell me what to do" you say, glad that you can help.

"Can you remove his jersey and shoulder pads? Kieran needs to keep his neck stable, and I need to check for any other possible injuries. And keep him talking"

"Yeah, of course," you start by bending his elbow to slide it out of the sleeve of his jersey.

"Hey Quinny" you say softly, sliding his other arm out of his jersey "you played really really good today, I'm so proud of you"

"Thanks baby," he murmers, "glad you're here." He tries to lean his head against your chest, he huffs when Kieran doesn't let him, and you can't help but let out a breathy laugh, patting his head lovingly.

Kieran tilts his head to one side, allowing you to pull the jersey over his head. You deposit it in his cubby behind him and make quick work undoing his shoulder pads and pulling them off gently.

"I'm glad I'm here too. What do you wanna eat when we get home?"

Sam gently asks you to move out of the way so he can check Quinns upper body for injuries. The second you aren't doing something, the anxiety rises back to your chest. You take a deep breath and begin to unlace his skates. You pull them off, slipping a pair of slides on his feet so his socks don't get wet.

"Hmm" he hums in thought "potatos...?"

You laugh, "Alright Quinny. We'll have potatos"

Finally after palpating his whole body to make sure he doesn't have any other major injuries, testing his reflexes, and asking him a bunch more questions. They diagnose him with a minor concussion, and give you a list of things to look out for.

They deem it safe enough to leave you alone with him for a little bit and tell you to change him into something more comfortable. It takes a bit of work to take off his hockey pants and shinguards and get him into a pair of sweats and a hoodie.

By the time you're done, the equipment manager and the medics have collected the rest of his equipment. After making sure his hockey bag is fully packed with everything, you grab his keys from your purse, while the EM helps you bring his bag to his car, and the medic helps you half carry him down.

He can mostly walk on his own, but better safe than sorry. On the ride home he keeps his head resting against the window, a cool compress is wrapped around his neck, and he's holding one over his eyes with one hand, while the other holds yours tightly.

You trace your thumb over the backs of his knuckles soothingly and keep him talking the whole way home. "What kind of potatoes do you want when we get home, Hon?"

"Can I change my mind?" He asks sheepishly. He's still talking very quietly and slurring his words a little, but the medics said that was nothing to worry about unless he started getting worse. So far, it was nothing to worry about.

"Of course my love, anything you want" you bring your intertwined hands to rest on your chest. It's a comforting weight over your heart, that you didn't know you needed until it was there.

Your phone lights up from the cup holder, it's a text from Petey, saying that the Canucks won the game. There are a few other texts, from his parents and brothers. You make a mental note to reply to them as soon as you get Quinn settled at home.

"Can we have noodles?" He mumbles.

"Yes, of course, love." You can't help but kiss the back of his knuckles. Watching Quinn get injured to the point of losing consciousness was not something you ever wanted to experience ever again.

"Your boys won, by the way," you say softly.

"The did?!" Quinns head shoots up front the window, and he is filled with instant regret as a sharp twinge shoots down his neck and to his shoulder.

"Ow fuck" he mumbles, laying his head back against the cool window.

"Careful love," you gasp, squeezing his hand.

"I know, I'm sorry," he mumbles, squeezing your hand back. You sigh, you have been on edge since he got injured, and it didn't look like the anxiety would dissipate for a while. You would just have to deal with it and try not to be an over bearing worry wart.

"You guys won 5-2" you smile, finally pulling into your apartment parking lot.

"I didn't do much except get my brains knocked around" he grumbles. "Some captain I am"

You scoff, flicking him in the nose lightly. "Don't sell yourself short, Quinny. Three of those points are yours."

Quinn wrinkles his nose and leans forward to bite your finger. You yelp, snatching it away with a glare. He sticks his tongue out at you, and you laugh, your chest feeling a little lighter than before.

"Come on, let's get you upstairs. " You say, undoing your seat belt and getting out of the car. You run around to his passenger side and open the door for him, and help him step out of the car. He throws an arm over your shoulder, and you wrap one around his waist. He's not as wobbly on his feet as he was earlier, but he still isn't at full strength.

Quinn squeezes his eyes shut and tucks his face against your hair. The florescent elevator lights were not pleasant in his state. "Can we keep the apartment lights off?" He mumbles against your hair.

"Sure love," you said rubbing your hand up and down his back soothingly, "we're almost home," you fish the keys out of your purse and unlock it. You toe your shoes off at the door while Quinn slips his off easily and you guide him to the couch.

"What do you want first, baby? Food or a shower?"

"I'm not really hungry" Quinn mumbles, laying on the couch and adjusting the ice pack under his neck. You sit on the couch handle, stroking his hair back from his forehead. "I know honey, but we should try to get something light in your system, if you're feeling upto it."

Quinn sighs. He knows you're right. "I can make you toast? Or a sandwich or something?" You offer, smoothing your thumb over his hairline.

"Do we have bagles?" He asks

"Yeah, we have bagles, I'll make you one of those?"

"Yes please," he mumbles, you plant a kiss on his forehead and go pop a bagle into the toaster, "can you do it with cream cheese and jam?" He asks, chewing on his lip nervously.

"Sure, Hon, I'm gonna make myself some tea. Do you want a cup?" You ask as you pull the cream cheese and jam out of the fridge.

"No thanks, I'm ok" he mumbles. After his bagle is done being made, you help ease him into sitting position, and sit next to him with your cup of tea. He eats a bit more than half the bagle, and you finish off the rest before deeming it time to shower.

You remember all the messages from his family, and quickly shoot them texts, saying that he's ok and you just got home and you'll talk more when he gets settled.

"I'm gonna put these back in the freezer while we shower, yeah?"

Quinn nods, handing the ice packs to you to put in the freezer. You help him up slowly and lead him to the bathroom. You keep the lights off and leave the door open so you have a little bit of light from the bedroom.

While the shower warms up, you grab a clean change of clothes for both you and Quinn and set them on the counter before helping Quinn strip. He has to brace an arm against the wall while you hold him steady with one hand and maneuver his clothes off with the other.

"I'm sorry," he murmers against your hair as you help him step into the shower.

"Oh Quinn, there's nothing to be sorry for," you say, sitting him on the shower seat.

"I'm sorry you have to take care of me like this." He huffs, resting his head against the cool Ike of the shower wall, "I feel so pathetic, " his voice cracks, and your heart nearly breaks.

"Quinn, my love, taking care of you is not a burden. It's a pleasure. I love you to the ends of the earth, and I would do anything for you, my sweets. " You kiss him on the forehead sweetly as if to prove your point.

He doesn't say much about it after that, but you can tell he still feels bad. You make quick work of washing his hair, being very careful of where a small bump has formed on his head. You scrub him down and rinse him off before shutting off the water.

You wrap a towel around yourself and then dry Quinn off gently before helping him change into his pajamas. "Let me change and then dry your hair a little bit before we have to put an ice pack on your head, ok?"

Quinn nods. He sits on the counter, leaning against the wall while you change into your pajamas. You plug in the hair dryer and dry his hair, keeping his head steady with one hand. As soon as his hair is no longer soaking wet, you help him off the bathroom counter and into bed. You grab the ice packs from the freezer and help him position them on his head and neck until he's comfortable.

"I'll be back in less than ten minutes, baby. I'm just going to grab your stuff from the car, ok?" You say pulling on a pair of sweats and a hoodie over your pajamas.

"Ok" Quinn mumbles, "I'll call if anything" he says patting his nightstand to make sure his phone is there.

You kiss him on the forehead and pull the bedroom door halfway closed so the light from the hall isn't too bright. Grabbing his car keys and your phone from the counter, you hit the call button on Ellen's contact as you slip out the door.

She picks up on the first ring "Hows he doing?" She asks immediately. She sounds distressed, maybe like she's been crying. You don't blame her. They probably haven't heard anything unless someone on the team contacted them, and you have no idea how bad it looked on TV.

"He's ok, Mrs. H, it's a mild concussion. His symptoms aren't worsening at all, and they said with some rest he'll be significantly better by tomorrow"

Her sigh of relief was unmatched. "He'll be out of play for a couple of weeks, but they just want to make sure he's back to 100% before he's playing again." The elevator finally opens, and you hit the button for the parking garage.

"Thank you so much, Y/n, im glad you're there with him. I know he's in good hands. I'll leave you be love, Jack and luke are super super anxious and would appreciate a call from you. Text me if anything happens."

"I will, Mrs. H, tell Mr. H I say hi"

"I will dear, thanks for taking care of our boy"

"Of course El, he's my boy too," you smile.

You swear you can hear Ellen smile over the phone. "We love you dear, I'll talk to you tomorrow ok. Don't forget to take care of yourself too"

"I will, I love you guys too. I'll text you updates"

"Alright, bye dear."

"Bye," you sigh, pressing the end call button, just as the elevator opens to the parking garage. As you press the button to open the trunk, you call Jack.

"Y/n," he huffs out, not even after a full ring. "How's Quinn? If he ok? What happened?" Before you can answer any of Jacks questions, Luke's voice cuts him off, "is Quinn ok? Are you guys at the hospital? It looked really bad -"

Before their panicked tangents can get worse, you interrupt them both. "Take a breath, you two," you say calmly, breathing exaggeratedly so they can copy you "in and out, relax. Quinn is ok. He's ok"

"He's ok?"

"He's ok" you repeat. You feel the tears start to build, and your voice cracks "He's ok"

"Oh Y/n." Jack says softly.

"It's ok, I'm ok" you say, more to yourself than to Jack as you wipe the tears away. "Hold on, gimme one sec." You say, setting down your phone as you pull Quinn's hockey bag out the car. You close the trunk, make sure the car is locked and head back to the elevator.

"Hi, sorry I'm back. I was just grabbing Quinn's stuff out the car."

"Can you tell us what happened?" Luke asks softly.

"He's got a concussion, and he's a bit bruised up, but other than that he's alright"

"Fuck, how bad is it?" Jack asks, the fear is evident in his voice, and you can't blame him. Concussions can be really bad sometimes.

"They said its a mild concussion, he's not throwing up at all, his memory is ok, he didn't injure his spine or anything, he'll be ok after a few days of rest. He probably wont be playing for a few weeks, but better safe than sorry."

"Oh thank God" both Jack and Luke huffed "isn't he not supposed to sleep for 24 hours after or something?" Luke asks.

You shake your head with a small smile "Thats a myth, Lukey. As long as I check on him every few hours its ok for him to sleep."

"Ohh, ok. Well that's good" Luke says.

"We are glad he has you Y/n, thank you for taking care of our brother."

"Always" you say softly.

"We'll let you go now, keep us updated?"

"I will, Jackie. You two get some rest, you have a big game tomorrow, love you guys"

"We love you too Y/n/n" both boys say, hanging up.

You sigh, leaving his bag at the door. "Y/n?" Quinns weak voice calls out from the bedroom. You rush to him immediately, scared that something is wrong.

"Yes, Quinny, I'm right here" you say kneeling beside the bed, and stroking his hair.

"You took long," he mumbles, pressing his lips against your wrist.

"I'm sorry love, I'm here now," you stand, stripping the hoodie and sweats off and climbing into bed next to him. You stay a little distance away, not wanting to hurt Quinn. But he grumbles at you, tugging on your shirt to get you to come closer. Normally, he would just grab you and pull you closer, but he's still weak.

"I don't wanna hurt you" you mumble, scooting closer so that you are tucked against his side. He tangles your legs together and rests his head against yours.

"Never" he says, pressing his lips to the side of your head. You rest one of your hands on his hip, under his shirt, stroking your thumb over his hip bone.

"How you feeling?" You ask softly.

"Beat" he mumbles "thanks for taking care of me"

"I'll take care of you for as long as you let me love" you say, pressing a gentle kiss to the underside of his jaw.

"Forever?"

"Forever."

---

Wc: 3.1k

#qh43 #quinn hughes #nhl imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #luke hughes #vancover canucks #jack hughes #hockey #nhl x y/n #nhl x you #nhl imagines #love soph

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lyomeii · 1 year

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the cute barista from the local cafe is my type

☆ SYNOPSIS: with the rumors of a cute barista going on around college, you decided to pay a visit there after training alongside your little sister. unfortunately, you never expected to the rumors being actually true.

☆ PAIRING: sung jinwoo x male! reader.

☆ KEYWORDS: (s/n)-> sister’s name

☆A/N: saw a fanart of @wonderingcheese of jinwoo as a barista and I couldn’t not write about it. so take this as a gift while I write the others requests.

“i-i would like a black coffee..”

“good choice, dude.”

The rumors around college are wrong. The barista of the local cafe isn’t cute, he is extremely handsome. His grey eyes matching with his black hair is a perfect match to someone so muscular like him. And his sharp facial features give the mysterious vibes that everyone is taking about.

At first, you didn’t want to come to this cafe. Not with the responsibility of being both the student council president and also taking care of your nine years old sister while parents are out of town. However, with the rumors going on and the fact that [s/n] wanted to come here changed your whole day schedule.

“And I would like something sweetie! Like a cheesecake!” your little sister barely reach the countertops to order. “A glass of green tea too, ah, mrs. sung.”

Her spark eyes read the name tag on the black haired man. With her arms behind her back and the tiny blush on the little girl’s, it’s clear. [s/n], your little sister, just gained another of those crushes she has. At least, this time it’s a real guy, not fictional.

The barista, now knows as sung jinwoo, smiles at you and [s/n]. “It will be in cash?”

“Y-yeah.” you take a few banknotes and payed for the order while trying your very best (and failing) to avoid his grey eyes. “Can you bring to us at the table?”

Sung Jinwoo nodded and gave you the change. The brief moment your hand touched his, you felt something off about him. Maybe it’s the air conditioner or the fact there is no one else in the cafe with the exception for the three of us, but…You feel many eyes watching your back.

[s/n] choose to sit close to the window, where she can take a great view of the bright sun outside which shiny the cafe’s inside. Even though, she is only a child and quite sheltered due to her weak health, she isn’t stupid or naive about her older brother.

“You like him, don’t you?” she whispered. “I saw the way you look at him, so you can keep him.”

Her words made your face blush entirely. You avoid look at her and stare at Sung Jinwoo, only to the barista smiles back at you, making you blush even more.

“Why you think that?” you asked her, trying to pretend her question isn’t bothering you at all.

The little girl giggle, enjoying how embarrassed you are with her words. [s/n] isn’t waste any second on seeing you like this, “You always act like an idiot whatever you see someone good looking around.” she explained. “Good thing you aren’t drooling this time.”

You give her a death stare. For a nine years old, she has the guts to speak like that to her old brother, the very same one who brought her to this cafe, because she asked it. As the older brother, you are holding yourself to not leave her alone in this cafe.

“Whatever.” you roll your eyes. “Tell anyone about it and I won’t let you eat ice cream before dinner.”

With the threatening, the little girl didn’t speak any more words til Sung Jinwoo brought the order to the table, when she shyly thanked him for her drink and her cheesecake.

He smiled to the little girl and let her hair, before turning his grey eyes into your [e/c] ones. When he handed your black coffee, Sung Jinwoo smirked and whispered to you:

“Call me.” he left after saying that.

His words made you freeze immediately. Did he asked you out? This has to be a dream, yet the phone number write in the coffee cup made you think better. Who would guess that you would be the lucky one to get the barista’s number? The sweet moment of such realization wasn’t even broken down by [s/n], she decided to stay quiet and let you enjoy the moment.

—

Behind the counter, Sung Jinwoo clean the utensils as he fail to ignore his shadows gossiping about what he just did. The tiny blush on his cheek make things better.

“The monarch asked him out!”

“Finally! Our king will be together with him again!”

“This time, our monarch was the one who took the first step!”

The shadows keep talking with each other as Jinwoo took a look at [name] and his little sister, both of them are talking and smiling to each other, sometimes the [h/c] haired boy would catch a glimpse at the barista.

Jinwoo giggle to himself as he finish putting away his utensils. With the cafe almost empty, he took a seat behind the counter and began staring at [name] with his grey eyes become softer while the monarch remembers the sweet memories they both shared in the prior timeline.

He hopes to be with you again in this life.

@lyomeii stuff || don’t repost

#sung jinwoo imagine #sung jin woo x reader #sung jinwoo x reader #sung jin woo imagine #solo leveling #solo leveling imagine #solo leveling x reader #yandere sung jin woo #yandere solo leveling #male reader #sung jin woo x male reader #male x male #yandere imagine #yandere manhwa #manhwa x reader #yandere x male reader

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sillysillygoofygoose · 7 months

Text

Dumb Little Bunny

...kinda cnc, argument to sex, switch! Toji and reader hehe, low-key foot stuff but also not really, hint of misogyny (use of slut, whore), degradation, and a possessive Toji. Happy Halloween!

"You're not wearing that."

Glancing down, you swiftly study your skin tight garment, pouting slightly.

"Yes, I am... it's on my body, isn't it?" Head whipping towards a brooding Toji, you smirk, a playful giggle bubbling in your chest.

"Very funny, smart ass." He huffs out, the beginning fire of a hissy-fit sparking up in his pebble-shaded eyes. He drags his feet over to you, bit-to-the-stub nails gripping at the skin engulfed by faux leather.

"Don't you think you're gonna get cold? Your legs are hangin' out like it's nobody's business." Toji grumbles, turning you towards the full sized mirror angled against your bedroom wall.

Toji is less than thrilled, to say the least. There you stand, figure squeezed and kissed by the tight fabric of your Playboy bunny one-piece. Complete with a puffy cotton tail and upright, pointed ears. Words can't describe the feeling that struck deep inside Toji's gut the second he saw you all whored out for this stupid Halloween party. The feeling grew from pleasurable to territorial when he realized he wouldn't be the only one seeing you tonight.

"The alcohol should keep me warm." You wiggle out of his grasp, patting his stone chest, before sitting down at the princess vanity he built for you. You pat at your cheeks with blush, sharpen your eyeliner, and touch up your burgundy lipstick.

"Don't start with that. Don't be such a little fucking brat." Toji's tone is harsh as he crosses his arms across his broad chest.

The lack of control brewed anxiety in his limbs and lungs. You invited him... you really meant it, too. But he was the one who turned you down.

"A Halloween party? Sweets, I'm too damn old for that shit."

Toji's attitude was expected, but throughly unappreciated by you... so you simply ignore him. You hear him groan before he lifts you off your cushioned seat, taking your place and settling you into his lap.

Before you can tell him off, he's nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck, tenderizing the area, before roughly biting down. You hiss, pushing his heavy head away and once again escaping his almost solid embrace.

"Ouch Toji! Ugh, what the fuck..." You trail off towards the end of your sentence, feeling the sting of his sharp teeth at the base of your neck.

"Fuckin assholes... their eyes are gonna be all over you, y'know... my fucking bunny. Dressed all cute and slutty."

Toji is still sat, arms crossed, a suble pout on his lips. A grown man throwing a tantrum like a four year old. And he said he's too old for a Halloween party.

Bending at your hips, you push past Toji's slumped shoulders, your eyes making out a wide, dark red mark on your neck.

"For fuck sakes, Toji... you're that fucking jealous hm?" Steadying yourself, hands flat on the vanity, you speak to him through your reflection, voice stern, concrete. He stands behind you, leaning down, his chest flat against your back. He lightly kisses, and kitten licks at the bold mark of territory. Leaning back into him, you feel his semi-hard pressing into the exposed skin of your fishnet-clad ass.

"You look so fucking good, mama. Don't want any of those usless fucking tools seein' ya all dolled up. I want to show you off, not sit here, knowing you're showing off." Finishing off his sentence with a light tug on your hair, he rolls his hips into your backside. Turning in your place, you pull Toji large body into you by his biceps. Groping his growing bulge, you use your other hand to hoist your bottom half onto the desk of your hand-crafted vanity. He follows your lead, staring at you almost expectantly. Sharp eyes follow your foot as it inches its way up Toji's thick thigh. Landing on his crotch, you playfully kick him soft as to not hurt him but firm enough to coax a small groan out of him.

"You like it, though, don't you, Toji? You like knowing that a young, sexy bunny is all yours. You know what to do... maybe if you make me proud, I won't flirt around tonight." You smirk, snapping off the flimsy buttons between your legs. Usually, hearing something like that would force Toji into a juvenile fit. His venomous jealousy would take over, fully souring his mind. But when you have him like this, under your spell, he just wants to prove himself to the woman he admires most.

Quickly, he pulls your pretty red panties aside, allowing the chilling air to wisp at your core. But, the change of temperature isn't the only thing that widens your eyes. Toji's wide tongue flattens upon your heat, licking up and down like an ice cream cone. His head makes exaggerated movements as the tip of his defined nose rubs into your sensitive bud, sending waves of pleasure through your body, sizzling out at your toes.

Toji straightens out on his knees, grasping at the back of your calve, bending your leg to fit between him and the wood you're placed upon. Pulling the ball of your foot back against his crotch, he holds the top of your foot to his weeping cock, moaning into you at the easing pressure. He slowly picks up a steady rhythm. You throw your head back, grabbing at Toji's dark locks and pull his face flush against you.

Before you can even reach your climax, you feel Toji stiffen and detach himself from you, and you peer down just in time to see the front of his grey sweatpants deepen in color.

A gruff groan escapes his throat as he sinks his pearly whites into the soft skin of your inner thigh between the open bubbles of your fishnets, like a dog and his bone.

"Ruined my fuckin' sweatpants, shit." Toji grumbles out, standing to his full height, towering over your sitting form. He pulls down the stained fabric, just enough for his veiny, throbbing, stiff dick to pop out. Without warning, he shoves himself into your fluttering, sensitive hole.

"'M gonna fuck ya dumb, bunny." Toji pants out, placing his hands behind you on the polished wood, thrusts immediately adopting a harsh, sharp pulse. Quickly, you begin babbling and cooing out, already being fucked stupid. You can feel your power slip through your fingers with every snap of your boyfriend's powerful hips. Before your dominance completely runs off, shriveled up in fear, you grab onto the back of his head, your mouth seeking his neck.

Toji groans as overstimulation creeps in, weakening his knees until he's in a partial squat, hunched over you.

"Fuck, I'm gonna fill you up, pretty girl. Gonna breed you like a fucking bunny. Every one of those idiots are gonna know who you're a disgusting little whore for." He grunts before you feel warm ropes of cum stuff your womb full. Still cumming, Toji pulls out, aiming his flushed head toward the shiny fabric of your sluttly little suit. He stumbles back, admiring the white streaks soaking into the slick black costume.

"Ugh, Toji, it's gonna stain." You mumble out, still shaking as you try to wipe off his cum with your fingers, engulfing them in your mouth, tasting the salty essence.

"Heh. Good." He lowly chuckles, sitting back down on your fragile chair, throwing his head back in exhaustion. You study the dark purple marks on his neck, perfectly matching the love-bites poorly hidden by the patchwork material on your legs.

"You sure you don't want to tag along? You might need to keep me in check." You smile devilishly, cheekily winking, before snapping the buttons of your skimpy onesie back together.

Toji huffs dramatically, irritation slowly snooping back into his dazed mind.

So there you are, frazzled and flushed, walking into this stupid Halloween party. Hand in hand. A dumb, sweet little bunny with her big, mean, dumber man.

Hope you enjoyed! Xoxo

#jjk x reader #fem reader #age difference #jjk toji #jjk #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #size difference #toji smut #toji headcanons #toji zenin #toji x you #jujustu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujustsu kaisen smut #sub toji

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zepskies · 7 months

Text

Smoke Eater - Part 10

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real.

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 6,300 Tags/Warnings: **Sexual harassment, angst, perilous situations, hurt/comfort

Part 10: “Toil and Trouble”

After visiting his father, Dean spent the rest of his day unsettled. He couldn’t put his finger on why, exactly, but he had a gut feeling that John knew more than he was saying.

He understood that his dad was looking out for him, trying to protect him, but Dean had a problem.

He didn’t like being left in the dark.

You were working later than usual that afternoon, so he had more than one reason to invite Sam and Cas out for a drink. They met at the Roadhouse and sat in their usual corner. Unfortunately, they were getting drinks and a show.

Jo stormed out of the back room behind the bar with her mother hot on her heels.

“You stop right there, Joanna Beth—”

“Mom, you’re not going to talk me out of it! I’m taking the damn test and I’m going to get in and I’m going to the Police Academy!”

“And all the money I shelled out for you to go to college, to get your degree, something I never got, by the way.”

“I know. And I’m grateful for that, but I did the college thing for you and Dad,” Jo said.“I don’t want to go into business. I never did.”

“No, because owning your own business ain’t respectable,” Ellen said, with all due sarcasm as she crossed her arms. “Never mind that I thought I could leave this place to you someday. Never mind that you’d rather be walking these streets with a gun than take care of the last thing your father left us.”

Jo finally stopped at that. She turned on her heel and withered slightly.

“That’s not what I’m saying,” she said. “I just don’t want to serve at a bar my whole life, Mom. I want to help people.”

Ellen’s brows shot up at that. She leaned back on her heels, as if she’d been delt a blow. Dean looked over and saw the guilt that set over Jo’s features, but neither Harvelle woman backed down.

“So you don’t want to end up like me,” said Ellen, clicking her tongue. “Okay. That’s fine.”

“Mom, that’s not what I meant,” Jo tried, but her mother waved her off.

“No,” Ellen’s voice came out sharp as she went for a hand towel. “You do what you want, Jo. You’re grown, I suppose.”

She wiped down a few droplets by Cas’s hand before whipping the damp towel over her shoulder. And she walked down the line to continue serving her customers, leaving Jo standing at the other end, disheartened.

Sam and Dean shared a glance with each other, then with Cas, though they tried to keep their heads down and their noses out of the family business. Frankly, they were relieved when Jo left the bar.

Still, Dean couldn’t help but glance up at Ellen when she came back their way. He opened his mouth, but she beat him to it.

“Don’t you ask me if I’m okay, Dean Winchester,” she said. Her voice was quieter, tired, but it still cut like a whip.

He bobbed his head and looked down at his beer. “Yes, ma’am.”

But after a moment, his eyes raised to find Ellen’s face.

“You want another?” she asked, pointing to his drink. It was still half full, but Dean nodded with a smile, just to help her out. She seemed to want to distract herself with work. He was liable to do the same thing when he was stressed.

She nodded with a slight smile. After she left to go grab it for him, he raised his brows and looked over at his brother and his friend, whistling lowly.

“And we thought our family had issues,” Sam remarked. Dean huffed at that.

“Speaking of.” Dean turned to Cas on his left. “Dad told me you guys are making headway on this crime boss-turned-arsonist.”

Cas met him with a shrewd brow raise. “What did John tell you?”

Dean frowned, his brows knitting together. “I hate it when you do that.”

“What?”

“Cover his ass,” Dean replied. He lowered his voice to ask, “Have you figured out what’s connecting all the vics? What ties them to Azazel, besides the brand marks?”

Cas sighed, running a hand over his face. Meanwhile, Sam watched the exchange with tight lips.

“Dean, you know I can’t tell you that,” said Cas.

“Hey, this guy’s starting fires in my neck of the woods. I can help,” Dean said.

“We’re already working with Arson—”

“Oh yeah. Sounds like Dad’s party line.”

“Dean,” Sam interjected, but Dean shook his head stubbornly.

“No, Sam. This isn’t just about fires, or some random nut job offing people,” Dean said. He tried his best to keep his voice quiet, despite the frustration coursing through his blood. “This is about Mom, no matter how much you wish it wasn’t.”

The brothers stared at each other for a moment, their silence charged with unspoken confrontation.

Eventually, Sam relented with a shallow breath through his nose. He turned to Cas, as did Dean. With the weight of both Winchesters on him, Cas finally had to sigh as well. He set down his whiskey on the countertop.

“Jerry Stillwell, the CPA,” he began. “We traced a secondary bank account in his name. It showed several ‘consultant invoices,’ for tens of thousands of dollars. The payments were wired from a company called Edlund Emporium.”

“Okay,” Sam nodded. “What does it lead back to?”

“By all accounts, it’s just a wholesaler of antiques,” Cas explained. “But we believe it might be a shadow company for a larger enterprise. Drug runners are known to hide their product within secret compartments in furniture, in the frames behind paintings, etcetera.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen Narcos,” Dean quipped.

“Who owns the Emporium?” Sam asked.

“We don’t know yet,” Cas admitted. “Its records are proving difficult to trace. However, the one relevant thing we were able to retrieve from Stillwell’s home files was an old audit of Edlund Emporium from 1996. It showed some old statements of the company using a storage facility downtown: Stull Storage.”

Stull Storage. Dean’s head tilted in thought. Why did that name sound familiar?

Cas noted his recognition with another nod.

“That particular storage facility was also linked to a money laundering scheme. You’re thinking of Paul Richardson, the father of two, who was killed in last month’s fire,” said Cas. “Well, as it turns out, he was a defense attorney who failed to get his client acquitted for that case. His client was a known drug runner, decades ago. And he actually pushed product for Azazel.”

“How do you know that?” Dean asked.

Cas sighed. “Your father remembered him from his time in Narcotics.”

Shit, Dean thought. He looked over at his brother, and by now, Sam’s gears were turning at Mach speed.

“Who owns Stull Storage then?” Sam asked.

“A company called Savage & Co.,” Cas said. He looked over more pointedly at Dean, whose eyes widened in realization.

“My girlfriend’s company?”

You hated having to work late. Not because of the working, but because the office was much quieter after 5:00 p.m. Too quiet.

Your desk phone rang, making you jolt in your seat. Once you saw the extension calling, you exhaled loudly and resigned yourself to answering the phone.

“Yes?”

“Come up to my office for a sec. I wanna discuss something with you,” said Nick.

And that. You really hated that.

Your eyes closed as you took in a breath.

“I’m working on an upsell for the Greenway account. Can we meet in the morning?” you asked.

“This is important,” he insisted.

You held in a sigh, but you agreed and hung up. You steeled yourself and took your phone with you as you decided to take the elevator up to the 30th floor. At least if it got stuck, it would get you out of this impromptu meeting with your boss.

Unfortunately for you, Betsy ran like clockwork. You were at Nick’s office within minutes—the penthouse suite of the building. Lavishly furnished, complete with a full leather couch set and coffee table for entertaining corporate big wigs, a large desk for Nick to pretend to work, and a fully stocked bar, where he did most of his “actual” work.

An expensive looking set of gold clubs were leaned against the wall, next to the bar. You knew it was his pride and joy, and he often brought it up in conversation when he was “networking.”

Just now, the sun was setting through the large windows overlooking his desk. The view was quite picturesque; the only thing that marred it was Nick Savage himself. He smiled and beckoned you into the room when he noticed you. You left the door open when you entered.

He got up from his desk and gestured over to the lounge area. He hinted at you taking a seat beside him on the same couch, but you sat on the opposite one, leaving the coffee table between you. His smile lessened a pinch. But he got up, as if he was just remembering something. He made his way to the bar.

“Want a drink?” he asked you over his shoulder.

“No, thank you,” you flatly replied. “Nick, I told Mr. Greenway that I would have that paperwork into processing by end-of-day today.”

“Yep, you are working hard,” Nick nodded. “Miss Busy Bee.”

He filled a tumbler three quarters of the way with bourbon and took it back with him to the couch where you sat. You crossed your legs and subtly shifted backwards. It left a foot or so of distance in between.

“That’s what I like about you,” he continued. “You do what it takes to get the job done.”

“I take my work seriously,” you said, in a pointed tone.

Nick inclined his head.

“You sure do. And you’re doing very well. In just a few years, you’ve racked up more accounts and upsells under your belt than anyone else on the team right now. Even Josh,” he said. “In fact, I’m considering you two as my top candidates for the Senior Sales Manager position. Adam’s leaving us for another company next month.”

That compliment surprised you, as well as the potential promotion. You’d heard that Adam Milligan was interviewing with other companies, but you hadn’t known that he was leaving. You blinked, nodding slowly.

“Thank you,” you said. “I appreciate the consideration…and I would look forward to the opportunity to grow in the company.”

Nick smiled. “Good! And while I believe in you, I just need to know that you’d be willing to do what it takes in this new role.”

That had a subtle alarm trembling up your spine.

“How so?” you asked. “Like you said, I think my margins speak for themselves, along with my ability to manage projects. I think that’ll translate well with managing the team.”

“But you’ve never managed people,” Nick pointed out. He leaned an arm on the back of the couch, his fingers drawing near to your arm. “Tell you what. I want to keep chatting about this, but I’m getting hungry. Why don’t I order some dinner, and we’ll keep pow-wowing.”

“Actually,” you said, leaning away from his hand. “I have plans this evening.”

He raised a brow. “Oh, yeah? What’re you up to?”

You didn’t feel you had to give him any details about your personal life, let alone that you didn’t actually have plans tonight (except for watching The Princess Bride with George. It was your favorite movie to watch together).

“I’m having dinner with my boyfriend,” you answered with a tight smile.

Your womanly pride hated that you had to use Dean as an excuse, but maybe then your boss would get the hint.

Nick’s lips thinned a bit as he leaned back in his seat. “Hmm, didn’t know you had one of those.”

“You met him,” you replied, arching a brow. “He’s a firefighter, remember?”

Nick nodded, though he made a non-committal sound.

“All right, well, I should go actually. He’s picking me up,” you said.

Though when you moved to stand, Nick’s hand wrapped around your wrist. His eyes met yours meaningfully, edged with interest as he eyed you.

“You sure you can’t stick around?” he asked.

His hold was firm enough to scare you, a subtle gasp catching in your throat when your eyes flicked up to his in warning. You instinctively jerked your hand back.

“Don’t touch me,” you said, even as you hated the slight tremor in your voice. “I’m warning you, Nick. I will go to HR. I don’t care how many lawyers you threaten me with. I’m not interested.”

Nick’s head tilted as he watched you with a frown.

“I hope you think hard, sweetheart.” He relaxed against the couch with arrogance, and it was beginning to make you sick. He crossed his arms as you stood and began to storm out of the office. All the while, his words followed you.

“Think about where you want to end up in this company, and who’s gonna get you there.”

You still had work to do, but you weren’t taking any chances. After you made it back to your office, you grabbed your work laptop and left for home. You had to take several calming breaths as you got into your car and turned the key into the ignition, but your hands still shook.

Then the car spluttered, refusing to start. You blinked, tried it again.

Still, the engine struggled and the dashboard shook.

Damn it, damn it! Don’t do this to me, you silently begged. You knew you should’ve had Dean look the old car over weeks ago. He’d offered more than once, but you kept forgetting. You bit your lip.

“Please,” you whispered. You just wanted to get the hell out of here. You glanced up and around the parking lot to make sure it was still empty, that no one was approaching.

After another painfully long moment of puttering, the car finally grumbled to life. A relieved breath rushed out of your body, and you began to peel out of the parking lot.

I can’t take much more of this, you thought as you drove home.

You also thought about calling Andréa. She still didn’t know all the details about what you were dealing with at the office. In fact, she knew little more than Dean.

And you really wanted to tell Dean. He had a way of calming your nerves and reassuring you when you felt out of sorts…and making you feel safe.

But you also knew how both your best friend and your boyfriend would react. Andréa would force you to go to HR, and then it would undoubtedly get messy. She could even get fired, if Nick was petty about it (and he usually was). You couldn’t afford to lose your job either.

Whereas Dean…

God, he’ll be so pissed, you thought. You had seen just a flash of his jealous side before, with Gordon. And that was one of his friends.

This would be infinitely worse.

Dean was protective. It was literally in his job description, but it was also just who he was as a person, you’d come to find. While you loved that about him, you also couldn’t have him storming your office building to wring Nick’s neck.

You needed your job. And even though you had updated your resume, with how hard you’d been working, you hadn’t had time to start scouring the online job boards…

You blew out a long breath. Your eyes were beginning to burn with frustrated tears. You sniffed and wiped under your eyes in vain.

Damn it, what the hell am I gonna do?

The question burned through your mind over and over, even when you got home. Your grandfather looked up from the show he was watching in the living room when you came in.

“Hey there, stranger,” he said. “Workin’ late?”

“Yeah,” you replied dully. You dumped your purse and workbag on the dining table and continued into the kitchen, not seeing how George frowned.

He slowly got up, wincing and at his aching joints and stifling a wet cough. He paused for a moment as a bout of nausea threatened to bowl him over.

When it passed, after a moment, he straightened. And he followed you into the kitchen, where you were peering into a near empty fridge.

“We barely have anything here,” you said with a sigh. “Okay, guess I’m going to the store. I can pick up something for dinner on the way home.”

“I’ll go with you,” George said. “I’ve been cooped up here all day.”

You shook your head without looking back at him, still making a mental note of everything you needed to buy.

“I heard you coughing. It doesn’t sound like your asthma,” you said, letting out a breath. Add a dash of worry for your grandfather’s health to spruce up your evening.

George sighed.

“Honey,” he tried. You were already shaking your head as you closed the fridge and turned to him with a frown.

“That primary doctor’s an idiot,” you said. “I’m calling your oncologist tomorrow morning.”

You went to grab your phone to set a reminder for yourself, but George stopped you with a hand on your arm.

“Would you stop?” he barked. “Just stop it!”

You blinked wide, and both literally and figurately, you took a step back. He wasn’t one to raise his voice, even when you were a child. But your earlier frustrations already had you on edge, and frankly, this was the last thing you needed.

“What?” you snapped back. “Clearly you need to see the doctor, and I’m not going to let you dismiss whatever it is you’re hiding and don’t want to tell me about! I’m sick of it.”

“Let me?” he said. “That right there is our problem. I’m not a goddamn kid. Damn well ain’t your kid or your responsibility. And I’m sick of you treating me like I already got one foot in the grave!”

You flinched as if he’d physically hurt you. Your eyes inevitably flooded with tears.

George relented when he saw it. He leaned a hand on the kitchen counter to steady himself.

“Look, hun. I’m 82. Every day, I take a stack of pills that sometimes make me feel worse than the damn cancer did. I got no illusions, and I do appreciate everything you do for me,” he said. “But you’re not my caretaker. You’re not my nurse. You’re my granddaughter.”

He grasped your hand with a warm squeeze. You sniffed and shook your head.

“I understand what you’re saying. And maybe…okay, I know I can be overbearing sometimes. But there’s a reality here that you don’t want to face,” you began. Though it was hard, you met his eyes.

“I’m not just your granddaughter,” you said. “I haven’t been since Grandma died. Because I’ve had to be more. Because you’re the only family I have, and I’ll make that choice every time.”

You let go of his hand and took up your purse, wiping at your eyes.

“But if you really want to come to the store, let’s go,” you said.

George stared back at you at a loss. Deep down, he knew there was a good deal of truth in your words, but he still felt like you weren’t quite hearing him.

Still, he followed you to the car.

You got into the driver’s seat of your Camry and briefly closed your eyes in a silent prayer. Then you turned the key in the ignition. The car turned on, to your surprise and relief.

You started the short drive out of your suburban neighborhood and down to the nearest grocery store. It was only 20 minutes away, and traffic wasn’t bad, but somehow the drive seemed to take an eternity on the two-way street. There was grass and forest on the passenger side, and the rest of the city approaching on the other.

Unbidden, your mind kept drifting back to this afternoon in Nick’s office. His words were like tendrils of black, oily ink coiling through your mind.

“I hope you think hard, sweetheart.”

Your hand tightened on the steering wheel, your teeth clenching. You could picture his lazy, arrogant smirk as he leaned back into the couch.

“Think about where you want to end up in this company, and who’s gonna get you there.”

You wanted to take one of his precious golf clubs and take a few swings at the man’s head.

“Something wrong with the car?” George asked.

“What?” you asked, flinching in your seat. But you realized then what he was saying. Your car was shaking, like it was about to stall. What the hell?

None of the service lights on the car were on, but this was a warning sign you couldn’t ignore.

George looked up as you approached a curve. “Slow down!”

Your gaze lifted just in time to see how an SUV from the opposite lane of oncoming traffic was drifting too far into your lane, on the curve. You corrected quickly with a jerk of the steering wheel, but your car jolted and stuck on the wheels’ position, and you couldn’t force it straight again.

It sent the car veering off the road and onto the grass, then tumbling down the hill into a sharp decline. You didn’t see the tree until you were feeling the impact of it hitting the front of the car, and nothing more.

You blinked awake, slowly. The side of your face felt numb as you manage to raise it from the airbag. Blood dripped down your nose over your lips, which you only realized after tasting copper on your tongue. You raised a trembling hand to your mouth and wiped some of it away.

Sucking in a breath, you turned your head. Fuck, that hurt.

“Grandpa? …Grandpa!”

George was still unconscious, though he didn’t look like he was bleeding. His airbag thankfully deployed as well. You looked around for your phone…if you remembered right, it had been in your purse. You looked over, and you saw it by his feet.

Though you were held back by your seatbelt and the airbag, and your whole body felt stiff and aching, you reached over and grabbed the purse’s strap. From there you pulled it towards you, with pained grunts, and whimpers, and shallow breaths.

When you were able to fish out your cell, your blood-stained thumb shook while swiping through your contacts.

You knew you should call 911 first, but your instincts took hold. There was only one person you could call. Your eyes began to burn the longer the line rang. By the time it finally connected, the first tears welled up.

“Hey, baby. Good timing,” Dean answered. He sounded tired. “Was just thinking about calling you.”

Your heart had traveled up into your throat to hear his voice. But now, it was hard to get your tongue to unstick from the roof of your mouth.

“Dean,” you managed, though your throat became clogged with emotion. Your tears blurred your vision and finally slid down your cheeks.

You tried to push at your seatbelt; it felt like it was cutting your circulation across your chest. But that proved to be a mistake, as the tight fabric just pressed into the bruising you already felt forming against your skin. You couldn’t contain a small whimper.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. His tone was more alert now, changed with the distress he likely heard in your voice.

You took in a shuddering breath as more tears rolled down your face.

“I need help.”

Dean had already been home from the bar when you called. But when he heard your voice, full of pain, your plea for help—it was like a stone dropping into his stomach.

“What happened? Where are you?” he asked. Already he was off the couch and looking for his wallet and keys. Sam was crashing at Eileen’s tonight. Dean would have to call him later. He locked the apartment and hastened down the stairs.

You were eventually able to tell him that your car had swerved after locking up on you. That you’d crashed into a ditch, against a tree.

“Grandpa’s with me. He still hasn’t woken up,” you said through tears. “I can’t move—”

“Don’t!” Dean interrupted, another lance of panic running through him. But he gentled, hearing your soft crying. “Don’t move. It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m comin’ to get you. Did you call 911?”

“No…not yet,” you admitted with a sniff.

He nodded to himself. “All right. I’m gonna call this in, make sure they’re on the way.”

“Don’t hang up, please,” you begged.

Dean was torn. He wanted to comfort you, but he knew he needed to get the fire department there as soon as possible.

“I won’t, I promise. Just hold on while I make the call,” he said as he climbed into his car. “I’m going to get the team out to you, okay?”

You sniffled again, but you finally agreed. Dean put you on hold while he called 911. All the while he was driving out of his neighborhood and onto the main road. He gave them his badge number to make sure they knew who he was, and that his girlfriend and her grandfather needed help on 32nd Street and Parker.

After he hung up with the operator, he got back on the line with you and kept you company while he drove. He gave you reassuring words, tried to keep you calm with a few wise cracks to lighten you up. Some of them you seemed to appreciate (others you didn’t).

When he pulled up to the right location, he didn’t see your car at first. That is, until he pulled over to the side of the road. He saw the edge of your bumper just over the slope, and then the rest of your Camry in the ditch. The hood was crumpled like an accordion into a tree, but at least it wasn’t smoking too bad (or on fire).

His heart clenched, but he forced himself to act—with the same fight or flight response he had to overpower with every call he responded to on the job.

Dean climbed out of his car and quickly grabbed the steel Halligan he kept in the trunk. It was essentially a more professional crowbar.

Then he jogged down into the ditch.

He went to the driver’s side first. He saw your tear-streaked face through the window, could hear your muffled voice call his name. He tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Can you unlock it?” he asked.

“I tried earlier,” you said. “It won’t open.”

Dean nodded. “Okay, no problem. Lean back.”

You obliged him, and once he was sure you were ready, Dean used the Halligan to pry the door open. He could’ve busted open the window, but this was safer.

Once the door was cracked open enough, he pushed it the rest of the way so he could get to you. He punctured through the air bag with the sharp end of the Halligan and pushed it down to deflate it a bit. It allowed you to grab onto his arm, and he reached for you, cupping your cheek and wiping at your tears with his thumb.

“Dean…”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he said, when you tearfully squeezed his arm. He noticed the drying blood around your nose and stained down your blouse. You were still dressed for work.

“Dean-o, hey,” said George from the passenger side. He was awake, but his eyes were half-lidded.

“Hey, George,” Dean nodded with a smile, to hide his concern. “How’re you doin’ over there?”

“Okay,” George tried, but it ended on a wet cough.

“Check on him. Please,” you asked. Dean nodded, but first, he leaned in a pressed a kiss to your forehead, letting out a subtle breath of relief. You closed your eyes, and a couple more tears slipped down. You squeezed his hand gratefully.

“Stay put for me,” he said. You hummed in agreement. And by now he could hear the sirens of an ambulance nearby.

Good, he thought, especially when he went over to the passenger side and wrenched the door open. He leaned George back in his seat, away from the airbag, and measured his pulse at his clammy wrist. It was a bit too fast for Dean’s liking.

“I’m good, right?” George asked. He was pale and sweating.

“That’s right. You’re gonna be hittin’ the roller disco in no time,” Dean said. George smiled in amusement, letting out a huff.

Dean smirked, then gave you a reassuring look. “The paramedic’s coming now. Just keep taking even breaths for me.”

A couple of minutes later, two paramedics came with a board and a neck brace to carry someone out. Dean recognized them from the shift opposite to his: Ed and Harry. They were a couple of chuckle brothers, but they did their job well. Dean instructed them to get George out first, and he helped them do it.

“We’re going to get to you next, ma’am,” Ed told you.

“Is he okay?” you asked. Worry for your grandfather was steeped in your watery eyes.

“They’re taking him up to the ambulance now. Another one’s coming for you,” Dean said. He was on his way back over to your side of the car, but he hurried when he saw you trying to get out. Apparently you’d managed to unclip your seatbelt when he wasn’t looking.

“Whoa, hey! What’re you doing?” Dean said. You gave him a small heart attack when you nearly fell out of the car on your shaky legs. He guided you back to sit, but you were adamant about getting out.

“I don’t want to wait,” you said sternly, though the effect was hampered by the way your voice also trembled.

“Okay, okay. I gotcha,” Dean nodded, but he urged you to let him help. He was careful in how he slipped his arms behind your back and under your knees. “Any sharp pain? In your neck, anywhere else?”

Truthfully, your neck did hurt. But it wasn’t that bad, you reasoned. The rest was just aches and bruises you were sure you would have later. You rested against his chest.

“I’m okay,” you said. Your arm curled around his shoulder while your free hand laid against his chest. “Thank you.”

Dean sighed and pressed another kiss to your hair, and then your forehead before he made his way up the slope with you in his arms. Once he got back onto the road, he spoke to Donna Hanscum, the police officer who’d arrived at the scene. She worked in the same precinct as his father and Jody.

You briefly explained what happened to cause the crash—the SUV drifting and your car locking up out of your control. Donna took notes all the while. Dean then let her know that he was taking you to the hospital.

“She really should wait for the ambulance,” Donna said, though her eyes were kind, taking in your tear-streaked face and the way you clung to Dean. She might have to visit you later for a more detailed statement, but she knew an honest mistake when she saw one.

“Eh, I’m saving them a trip,” Dean said. “That’s gas and labor cuttin’ costs right there.”

Donna shook her head, despite a smile.

“All right, Dean. Just go.” She gave you one last look of sympathy. “Feel better, hun. Looks like you’re in good hands.”

You nodded with a small smile. Letting out a breath, you closed your eyes and relaxed against Dean.

Dean stayed with you in the Emergency Department while a nurse cleaned the blood from your face, took your vitals, and tested your vision and hearing.

Your blood pressure was high, but that was to be expected. All else fell into the realm of normal, considering. Though when the nurse checked your neck, you grimaced a little when she slowly turned your head from side to side.

“Hmm. Scale of 1 to 10 on the pain?” she asked.

You glanced at Dean, who raised his brows at you expectantly. That look said, Tell the truth.

“I don’t know…4,” you replied.

The nurse gave you a knowing glance. “You can be honest. Is it a 4, or more like a 6?”

You bit your lip. “Okay, a 5.”

“All right. That’s understandable,” she said. The nurse then grabbed a brace to set around your neck. “The doctor will be in shortly to check you out, but likely she’ll order some X-rays, and possibly prescribe you something short-term for the pain.”

You sighed in annoyance. “How long will that take? I need to see my grandfather.”

“Want me to check on him again?” Dean asked. Now that the nurse was done, he came over to where you were sitting on the edge of the examining bed to rest a hand on your back.

He’d made sure George was stable and comfortable in his own room. The ED doctor had ordered blood tests, among other things, since he was a former cancer patient. But also because he had a fever and an elevated blood pressure that didn’t seem to just be related to the crash. He was now sleeping while the hospital ran the rest of their tests.

You turned to Dean with red-rimmed, tear-filled eyes. “I want to see him.”

Dean slipped an arm around you and tucked you against him more securely.

“You will, sweetheart. You just need to get checked out first,” he said. He was worried about you. You seemed all right, but he didn’t like your tendency to forget about yourself. Sometimes, you were a bit too much like him.

You sighed in defeat (for now). But after a moment, your small voice broke through the quiet.

“I should’ve let you look at the car,” you said.

Dean glanced down at you and caught the guilt written across your face. His brows knit together as his heart clenched again.

“Don’t do that,” he said with a sigh. “It’s not your fault.”

“My car, my goddamn fault,” you said through tears.

“Stop, baby,” Dean said. He held you closer, laying a kiss on the top of your head while you tried to stifle your tears.

He waited with you until the doctor finally arrived to examine you. She spotted the same things as the nurse, and after another hour of X-rays (clean of any breaks) and tests (all ultimately fine), she prescribed you an anti-inflammatory pain killer, as well as rest. And of course, if your pain worsened, you were to come back to the ED.

After the doctor left for the last time, Dean agreed to walk you down to your grandfather’s hospital room. George was awake, though he seemed groggy with the pain medication they had him on through the IV. He greeted you and Dean with an attempt at a smile.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he said. His hand turned over to welcome yours, and he squeezed, seeing the tears in your eyes. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, sniffling. “I’m good. How’re you feeling?”

Your gaze drifted to his chart, to the medications and fluids they had him on, what tests were listed…

George’s hand tugged on yours, pulling your attention back to him.

“They’ve got it in hand. Don’t you worry about me,” he said.

You flickered at a smile, as you both knew that wasn’t in the cards. In fact, you’d barely been sitting down on the edge of his bed for a couple of minutes before you were asking if the recline of his bed was comfortable. If he needed more water, or another blanket.

George responded negatively to most of your questions, though he shot Dean an imploring look over your head. The other man nodded and gently grasped your shoulders.

Dean could see why you were blustering around—so you wouldn’t crack from anxiety and exhaustion. But he needed to stop you before you hurt yourself. (Not to mention, before you drove George crazy.)

“Hey, come ‘ere a sec,” said Dean. He guided you into a nearby chair and soothed a hand over your hair. He kneeled down next to you and grabbed your hand. You let out a breath and held onto him back.

“You need to take it easy, okay? Need to,” Dean said, in a quiet but firm tone he didn’t often use with you. He reached for the slip of paper the doctor gave you, now stuffed in your purse. “Everything’s gonna get taken care of. You just relax here, and I’m going to go fill out your prescription.”

Dean waited for you to meet his eyes; he was only satisfied when you nodded in acceptance. He gave you a smile, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. It was comfort and relief, for both of you.

You held him there for a moment with a hand on his cheek. Your fingers traced across his brow, and down his jawline. If it were even possible, after everything he’d done today, you were never more grateful for him than in this moment.

George watched the little scene from his bed with a soft smile.

Finally, he thought. And it meant many things.

After Dean reluctantly pulled away, he promised he’d be back soon. He then left to take your prescription to the closest pharmacy, also fishing out his phone to call Sam and let him know what was going on at the hospital.

Dean had a feeling you all were going to be here for a while.

AN: *exhales* Okay. 😅 A lot going on in this chapter. Another piece of the puzzle, more of why Nick needs his ass handed to him, and a dramatic save. Let me know what you thought!

And please forgive me for where we're going next...

Next Time:

Dean held your face, brushing the tears away with his thumbs.

“Hey, I’m here, all right? Just let me help you,” he said. “You can lean on me when you need to.”

“I haven’t had that in a long time,” you admitted. “Part of me doesn’t know how to lean.”

“I get that,” Dean said. But you both knew that there was a long and difficult road ahead. He knew he didn’t have to remind you of it. “Whatever you need, you just tell me, okay? If nothing else, I’ve got a strong pair of shoulders.”

Somehow, you smiled. You pressed your forehead against his chest and inhaled deeply, to steady yourself.

“That you do, Lieutenant.”

Keep Reading: PART 11

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb

@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @katherineann814 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

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#Toil and Trouble #Smoke Eater #Part 10 #dean winchester #Firefighter!Dean Winchester #dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester x female reader #firefighter!Dean Winchester x Reader #dean winchester x you #firefighter AU #dean winchester AU #Castiel #Sam winchester #spn #supernatural #zepskies writes

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romantichomicide95 · 2 months

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DABI ~ confessions

summary: you ask dabi why he never says those three words back.

cw: toxic relationship vibes, but still kinda cute. dabi opening up in his dabi way.

a/n: bee aren’t you on a writing hiatus? -no comment, also first time i’ve ever written for him and i know his stuff is prob a dead side of tumblr but when in rome.

tagging: @i-literally-cant-with-this (i almost forgot)

“how come you never say it back?” you ask dabi, adjusting your position against him on the couch. this particular question had been on your mind for awhile. whether or not he loved you back. it was something that twisted in your gut like a knife each night that passed. his stark blue gaze flicked away from the television, finding your eyes momentarily before flicking back to the TV.

dabi’s lips twisted slightly, forming a semblance of a frown, one that made his eyes seem even colder and more distant than usual. the faint glow from the television cast unsettling shadows across his scarred face, emphasizing the harsh lines of his expression. “say what back?” he retorted.

you felt your heart beat painfully against your chest. “that you love me,” you whispered.

a low grunt escaped him as he pushes himself up to a sitting position, forcing you off his lap and creating a small distance between you. dabi’s voice drops low, his steely gaze finally settling back on you, sharp and piercing. “love doesn’t really suit me now does it?”

your heart sank at his words, but you couldn’t let it go. “okay…so you don’t love me?” your voice was rising, a mix of frustration and sadness weaving through your words.

dabi looks away again, his jaw clenched tightly. for a moment, there's a flash of vulnerability in his eyes before it disappears behind his mask of indifference. “it’s complicated," he finally says, his voice gruff.

you felt the sting of tears, trying to will them away but failing. “what does than even mean…i’m your girlfriend.”

his silence hung heavily between you, the air charged with the unspoken. he sighed, a sound heavy and filled with something that could almost be mistaken for regret. "can you just drop this and watch tv? i’m fucking tired.”

you wipe away a tear. "no dabi…you know i put up with a lot from you? for one you’re an asshole and like you’re not always nice to me. plus you use my body however you please. but despite that i love you…so i just deal with it.” you begin, the tears now rolling down your cheeks unchecked. “i just want to make you happy. and now you’re telling me you don’t love me? what’s the point?”

"fuck, " dabi cut in, his tone sharper than he intended. he saw the hurt flash across your face and it stirred something inside him. you were right, you do put up with a lot from him. always finding ways to justify his behavior, excuse his cruelty. “don’t cry i hate that shit. i’m not good with feelings and all that.” he runs a hand through his messy hair. the tv light flashes bright, casting a glow across his face illuminating his scars. “it’s not like i don’t care about you.”

“but you don’t love me? i guess i just don’t see why you’re still with me if you don’t.”

there’s a long silence as he struggles internally with the weight of the conversation. “well i am with you aren’t i? who else would put up with me?”

“oh so it’s out of convenience than? that’s real nice dabi jeeze.”

he glares at you for a second, almost like he’s insulted by the insinuation. “no. it’s not out of convenience okay! jesus christ, you’re impossible. can you just drop this please?”

“if that’s the case than why can’t you say it back?” your voice comes out exasperated, shaking and choked. laced with tears and sorrow.

frustrated beyond measure dabi’s blue eyes reflect a mix of anger and turmoil. like there’s two sides desperately clawing away at each other inside him. finally he explodes. "fuck…if you're really that desperate for meaningless words then fine…fine, I LOVE YOU, YOU STUPID IDIOT!" he screamed, his voice cracking under the intensity of his own emotions. the room fell silent, save for the faint hum of the tv in the background. he was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling fast as he continues yelling. “i love you so much it’s fucking infuriating. why do you think i get so mad all the god damn time when guys look at you? why do you think i push back all the time? cause i’m fucking scared. i’m scared you’ll realize what a piece of shit I am and leave me. i fucking love you y/n. of course i do. fuck…are you seriously that dense that you don’t see that?”

the second those words left his mouth, there was a palpable shift in the air. the room suddenly seemed colder, and you could barely believe what you had just heard. you stare back at him in disbelief, unable to form words.

watching you struggle for a response he snorts, shaking his head. a low gritty laugh, utterly emotionless, escapes him. “of course you don’t see it you fucking moron, too busy whining and being a pain in the ass all the time.”

a feeling of relief bubbles inside you, mixed with annoyance at his utter lack of tact and disbelief at his confession. the swirling of emotions comes out of you in a laugh, one that lasts a fraction of a second too long. “how can you be such an asshole while saying something like you just said?” you continue to laugh, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

he rolls his eyes. “just because i said love you doesn’t mean ill suddenly change you moron.” he says, though the hardness in his tone has softened. he shifts uncomfortably, almost as if unsure how to handle the vulnerability he just displayed.

you smile, leaning in to kiss his cheek before settling back on his lap. he scoffs slightly but his arm wraps around you as you both settle back into your prior position. despite himself, dabi finds some comfort in having you close. there’s some peace that bubbles deep within him whenever he’s got your body pressed against his.

you look up at him, tracing the scar along his cheek. “well, i love you a lot…and i wouldn’t leave you by the way, so there’s no reason to be scared.”

“whatever,” he mutters dismissively. “just shut up and watch tv.” he shifts on the couch grabbing the remote and turning the volume up, but not before he leans down to place a small chaste kiss against your forehead.

#dabi x reader #mha dabi #bnha dabi #dabi todoroki #touya todoroki #touya x reader #mha x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha x reader #dabi x you #touya x y/n #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki x you #dabi touya #my hero academia x reader #my hero #dabi

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xythlia · 5 months

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— FALSE LIFE ˎˊ˗

› ascended astarion x f! spawn tav

› word count : 2k+

› sorry but his ascended lines do something to me >.< & I finally felt brave enough to post this after my 200+ game hours (also im open to astarion requests btw :3)

warnings : mdni. compulsion. noncon elements. posessive behavior. angst ish. fingering. toxic relationship. reader has hair long enough to brush off shoulders. reader wears a revealing dress. pet names (dear, darling, little love, ect.). oral f receiving. he calls you dinner sorry lol

This is the first time he's ever done this, compelled you.

If heat could still pool beneath your skin, anger more akin to molten lava beneath the surface, surely it would have. He broke his promise to you, the small thread of security that allowed you to go along with becoming a spawn. You also want to weep, wish tears could well freely in your eyes and track down your cheeks.

But even that is denied to you. Instead you're rooted to the spot, the marble flooring devoid of any echoing footsteps and the air hanging thick with frightening anticipation.

You can't reflexively jump when his lithe fingers move your hair from your shoulders, brushing your own equally icy skin. Much of your body is routinely on display for the vampire ascendant, something else you've always swallowed your displeasure on. There is also the absence of a gasp as his hand grips the back of your neck, an odd pantomime of a mother cat carrying its kitten by the scruff.

"Tell me," he asked, "do I not give you a life of constant pleasure?"

The words slip from your mouth unbidden. "Yes."

"Haven't I made sure you want for nothing?"

Again. "Yes."

His grip tightens, forcing your head to the side a bit and you wish you could wince.

"Then why, my little love, are you so insistent on acting like an ungrateful brat?" He spits out the question, forcing you to meet his ruby gaze by turning your head himself. You've never felt more doll-like, a petulant child.

"You compelled me. Forbade me from going outside the palace bounds. It upsets me that I cannot see our friends and companions. It upsets me that you broke your promise." Your affect couldn't be flatter, a dizzying contrast to how much pain you truly felt inside, a cruel effect of compulsion.

The dining room is quiet, thick with tension as he seemingly takes in your reasoning in silence.

The laughter that bursts from his lips is harsh, not because it's forced or hollow, but because it's real, legitimate laughter. He releases you to cross his arms, chortling so much tears well in his eyes. It makes something absolutely hideous twist in your gut, watching his display as if your feelings were nothing but the realms crassest joke.

All the while you stand statuesque, frozen and seething as your lover mocks you.

"Don't be stupid, darling. You're mine, remember?" Astarion caressed your jaw, positioning himself front and center in all your senses. "Your future has been mine to decide the moment that little worm was ousted from our heads."

Your eyes catch the scar on the side of his neck, bite marks like a twin to your own. Something else inside you is dying, a slow march, and soon the Crimson Palace will be more like your mausoleum than your home.

"Yes."

"Good," he pauses, seemingly sizing you up for reasons unclear, "Sit back. On the tabletop, darling."

Your movements are automatic, body and mind completely untethered from one another in terms of control. An anxiety grips your mind, sharp fingers digging into your brain and you perch on the vast, ornate table.

"Mhm, you know, I didn't get to finish my meal since you decided to spoil dinner with your silent sulking." His smile is a wicked thing. "But I do think we should move on to dessert now anyway."

One hand slides up the revealing slit of your dress, icily fondling your flesh and slowly inching upwards before his fingers are brushing along the seam of your underwear. All you can do is remain frozen, legs spread, as if you were a plaything for him to pose and contort any way he pleased. You suppose that's all you might be now.

"How about an... even trade, of sorts? In exchange for forgiving this little trespass with no punishment, you agree not to question my decisions."

Its not fair, the answer isn't truly your own. "A deal, yes."

A contented sigh leaves him as his index finger rubs up and down your clothed cunt, but his eyes are sharp and you know it's not lost on him how damp your underwear is. When he grins again those fangs are on full display, exaggerated by the shadows cast from the flickering candlelight.

It breaks your heart that he's as beautiful as ever, that still the baser parts of you can't help but desire him.

His plush lips find yours with comfortable familiarity, the perfect genius of their synched movement a testament to how much time he's spent mapping your mouth, committing it to memory. As you slip your arms around his neck you realize the compulsion is gone, but desire keeps you rooted in place, enjoying the feeling of his wandering, groping hands.

Forcing yourself to forget for selfish pleasure is surprisingly easy, a skill you've cultivated the past few months.

You gasp into his mouth as his fingers slip past your underwear, swiping through your wetness before lazily circling your already aching clit. The stimulation makes your hips jerk, chasing his hand for more friction but his other presses firmly against your hip to keep you still.

"Don't be gluttonous dear. I'm the one who didn't get to finish my dinner." He whispers against your parted lips, trailing sloppy open mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, the exposed tops of your breasts, until he's sunk to his knees in front of you.

As he lifts the skirt of your dress you lay back against the heavy polished oak table, and if your heart could race it would be galloping out of your chest in anticipation. Thankfully Astarion doesn't keep you waiting long, he was true to his word that there was no punishment this time as he pulled down your underwear and trailed chaste kisses from your calf, your thighs, all the way to your soaked cunt as you squeezed your eyes shut.

"My delicious little treat," he murmured, his breath fanning across your skin, making you clench around nothing right before he placed a kiss to your clit.

The smallest of moans escaped you and it was enough to encourage him, tongue swiping through your arousal as his fingers prodded at your entrance. When he sucked against your clit your back arched off the table and every noise became amplified: the way you were panting, the slick slurping sounds of his mouth working against you, the squelching as two fingers slid inside you to start scissoring against your spongy walls. The cacophony was enough to make your head spin as your hands flailed downward, looking to grasp any part of him you could reach.

Grasping at his alabaster hair you cry out his name, with the same reverence one would use to call out to a god, and it only spurs him on. He groans against you as your hips start to rise, chasing the stimulation from his tongue and feeling the first embers of climax catching in your abdomen.

"Please -" tears slip down your cheeks as his fingers increase their pace, his tongue devouring you ceaselessly and you nearly choked on your own cries as your thigh muscles tense impossibly tight.

Your legs shake against his shoulders as your fingers scrape against his scalp, the embers now transformed into a roaring pyre, burning you from the inside out as the edges of your mind start to peel from the internal heat and pressure. You squirm recklessly, mouth hung open in a silent cry as your upper half rises off the table.

Slowly you lay back, struggling to control your muscle tremors and with one final kiss to your throbbing clit, that makes you yelp, Astarion pulls back, draping your skirt back in place and slipping your underwear in his pocket.

"You see, I can be quite forgiving darling. Just don't push it in the future."

#꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱ kita writes #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x tav #astarion smut #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate smut #baldurs gate astarion #astarion #ascended astarion x reader #ascended astarion smut #bg3 smut

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dilatorywriting · 2 years

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Heroes vs. Villains : Octavinelle

Gender Neutral Reader x Octavinelle vs. Rielle Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: Woe to the Ramshackle Prefect, being caught up in the drama between the Disney Villains and their respective heroes. Octavinelle Version. ie. The Tweels' idea of fun is torture and an unsuspecting, red-headed, hero steps in to save the day

[PART 1] [PART 2]

You were floating contentedly on a soft, yellow, raft. Enjoying the sun on your face and the gentle lap of the waves against your toes.

And then you were not.

And who was to blame for your sudden descent into the swirling, shadowed, riptides of the bay? Well, a pair of sharp smiles popping in and out of your water-logged vision was proof enough. Go swimming with Jade and Floyd, Azul had said. They’ll genuinely appreciate it, he’d said.

And what if they kill me? You’d said. Eat me? Drown me? Fill my swimsuit with sand and rocks, and then leave me at the bottom of the ocean?

Oh, they like you too much for that, he’d huffed, something sour and resigned twisting at his mouth. They may just… play with you a bit.

CLUNK CLUNK went the first of many stones as Floyd unloaded his mucky haul over your flailing shoulders. You could see the bubbles of his laughter swirling through the water, soon joined by the more subtle froth of Jade’s chuckles.

You were half-way through planning the best sermon to mortify Azul at your funeral when a strong pair of decidedly-not-eel-like arms wrapped around your torso and hauled you back to the surface.

“Are you alright?!” A pause as you hacked up a bucket’s worth of salt water all over your savior’s shoulders. “Well, clearly you’re not okay—but let’s just—I mean—I’ll take you back to shore!”

And so, you were returned to the warm, sandy, beach curtesy of a kind, sun kissed, stranger with a surprisingly good backstroke.

Once you had your feet properly back on the ground and had vomited mouthful after mouthful of murky water from your gut, you finally had a chance to observe your hero in all his glory.

He looked about your age, but there was a self-assuredness to him that would normally either speak of many years lived or many years catered to. Judging by his goofy but sugar-sweet smile and the swim trunks embroidered with what looked like actual gold threading, you were going to guess it was the latter. His eyes were as blue as the water he’d pulled you from, and lit with a mischievousness that was placid enough not to set your hackles on edge. The swoop of red hair atop his head was shockingly bright (and shockingly well styled, considering he’d also been submerged in that sticky seawater just moments before). Not even Ace’s awful mess of a hairdo could have prepared you for the blinding crimson locks curling softly against the breeze.

“Thanks,” you managed to wheeze out, hands on your knees and practically doubled over entirely. God, you were going to murder those stupid twins. Or at least dump all of Jade’s mushrooms down the toilet. And maybe get Grim to piss on Floyd’s basketball shoes if he wasn’t too much of a coward.

“Of course,” he smiled, gentle in the way that one may approach a spooked animal. Frankly it was a bit insulting, but perhaps it was just that having lived so long amidst your beloved, heathenish, classmates, politeness of any kind came across as suspect. “Do you need me to get the healer? Or—excuse me—the doctor? Yes?”

“I don’t think I’m that dead yet,” you mumbled and gave yourself a whack on the chest for good measure. “But I guess only time will tell, huh?”

Your savior looked properly startled, and you had to remind yourself once again that normal people did not laugh off horrific brushes with mortality. Normal people showed empathy, and compassion, and wouldn’t have dragged you to the bottom of the goddamn lagoon in the first place.

Sunshine-Boy shook himself out of whatever funk had swept through his brain quickly enough, and he stepped towards you with another one of those insanely luminescent smiles.

“Well, despite the unfortunate circumstances, it is my very great pleasure to meet you. My name is Rielle Tidal!” he beamed, and swooped into an odd sort of half-bow. It looked very much like someone who’d only ever vaguely heard about the concept of a curtsy, and was trying to pull one for themselves. His lips quirked into a grin that was so wide and white it was practically seared into your retinas. “Youngest Prince of Atlantica.”

You just nodded, hoping it looked polite and not put-upon. At this point, you’d had more than enough of second princes, and crowned-princes, and so-rich-they-might-as-well-be-princes. Youngest princes probably wouldn’t be much better.

“A pleasure,” you huffed and spat a sea-soaked wad of hair from your mouth.

Rielle’s inhumanely radiant smile dimmed under your lack of enthusiasm and he tried again, shoving his hand back out for you to shake. You did, if only because his dejected expression made you feel like he’d caught you kicking puppies or something. You managed to gurgle your name out past your salt-slick tongue and the burning in your lungs. He repeated it slowly, carefully, like he was memorizing the way it felt in his mouth.

“Well then! Are you feeling a little better now?” he asked, genuine worry swimming in his blue eyes.

“I don’t think I’m drowning anymore,” you sighed, and gave one, last, proper, hack for good measure.

“That’s good at least!” he laughed. It was such a strange laugh—not in a bad way. Just… weirdly perfect. Tinkling like bells and so warm it nearly wiped away the heavy chill that had seeped into your limbs. The most perfectly-perfect laugh that you had ever head. The kind of sound that poets could write endlessly about. After spending months with people whose giggles sounded like the rumbling of chainsaws or the underscore of a horror movie, hearing something so lovely and normal was… unsettling.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the tops of two very familiar heads crest above the waves.

You fought the very strong urge to stick your tongue out and flip them the bird.

Rielle noticed your change in focus and his sapphire eyes tracked out to the pair of twins bobbing up and down menacingly in the water.

“Are those your friends?” he asked.

“’‘Friends’ is a strong word,” you grit out.

“Is it?” he gaped. “Oh no! I’ve been using it all the time! Do you think I’ve been upsetting people?!”

You had to physically clap your jaw closed. Was this a real person? Actually? Could a creature so pure and bubbly actually exist in the same universe where someone like Azul could charge upwards of fifteen thaumarks for a single drink?

“I’m… sure you’re fine,” you placated.

Immediately he brightened. “Oh! That’s good! So can we be friends then?”

“You want to be friends. With me?” you deadpanned, shocked.

His cheeks bloomed a lovely shade of pink that somehow managed to not clash horrendously with his bottle-red hair.

“W-Well, maybe we could—”

“Awww~” came a horribly shrill, familiar, drawl. “Did Shrimpy make a new friend, hmm?”

“Now, Prefect,” followed an even worse voice. The one that had lulled you in once-upon-a-time with its deceptive politeness and professionalism. “You of all people should know how unfair it would be to attempt expanding your social circle further. What with all your commitments.”

“Who’s gonna’ scrub dishes with me, Shrimpy?” Floyd whined, draping himself over one shoulder. “Or make sure I get to basketball practice on time?”

“And what ever would we do without the Lounge’s most beloved executive assistant?” Jade hummed, pressing himself into the other.

“Suffer,” you spat, and Jade’s pointed smirk curled into a grin so sharp that you were a bit worried you were about to lose a chunk of your arm.

“Aw, see?” Floyd cried, tugging your closer to his soaking chest. “You don’t wanna’ be friends with this lil’ Shrimp, Princey. It’s mean.”

You fought the urge to bite his fingers. Prince Rielle was taking in the entire situation with a look of abject horror. And also… recognition? You could see his blue eyes narrow, as if in deep thought. And he was looking over Floyd and Jade’s ugly, snarling, mugs like if he squinted hard enough, maybe he could figure out just what exactly these two demon spawn were meant to be.

“Anways!” Jade smiled. “We ought to be going.”

“But you’re still soaked!” Rielle objected, turning back to you with a furrowed brow. “And you almost just drowned!”

“Ah. Did you?” Jade hummed, arching a brow at you. You stomped on his foot. He didn’t react.

“At least take this,” Rielle offered, rifling around in one of the discarded tote bags in the sand to produce a giant, fluffy towel. “And, uhm, maybe this too.” He pressed something small and silver into your hands. “To help brush your hair out, at least.”

“This is a fork,” you frowned.

“It’s a dinglehopper,” he corrected, looking horribly confused. And you decided to take back all the nice things you’d been thinking about him earlier.

“Well, thank you then. I think,” you huffed, accepting the ‘dinglehopper’ with as much grace as you could.

“I’ll be seeing you!” Rielle chirped, as Jade took one arm and Floyd took the other—bodily hauling you in the other direction.

“No, I don’t think you will,” Jade beamed, looking positively venomous.

#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #Jade Leech x reader #Floyd Leech x reader #Rielle x reader #My Writing #Octavinelle x reader #twst x reader #the tweels #jade leech #floyd leech #Rielle #Azul Ashengrotto x reader #Heroes vs. Villains #Heroes vs Villains Octavinelle Part 1

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s-4pphics · 11 months

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dial. 1 (e.w.)

wc;cw: 3.2k, all ocs r black coded<3, fratadjacent!ellie, she has community dick, dina being mawtha, mentions of psychs, weed n alcohol so dubcon, bad parties, light smut MDNI, pussy eating, err exhibitionism a lil bit, mentions of porn LOL

“Hand me my mascara, pleeease.”

“… Lemme connect to the speaker then.”

You sighed in exasperation at your roommate’s bargaining, placing the blaring device into her devious hands before snatching your mascara from her. She was puffing from her dab as she connected it to her phone, her playlist blasting through your small, shared space.

HOW YOU WANNA FUCK WIT’ A STAR—

Niah returned to her ironing board, slicing and altering her ugly Christmas sweater so it was as revealing as possible. You should’ve followed in her lead; you were already burning up from your vanity lights and long, furry sleeves.

You never attended holiday themed parties because they were the most packed, but Niah threatened to set your limited-edition vinyl set on fire if you didn’t show up. You did want to protect your rare records, but you were also planning to attend anyway for more selfish reasons.

You hoped Dina didn’t hate you too much.

Your good friend didn’t hesitate to scold you in person a couple of weeks ago, bursting into your room with a full IHOP platter and a sharp tongue. She was much calmer when she returned to her room after screaming at you, but you understood her initial anger. You definitely made a mistake. A pretty big mistake.

Didn’t I tell your stupid ass to leave her alone! You don’t fucking listen, that’s your problem.

Were you wrong for letting Dina’s best friend rearrange your guts in her roommate’s bed? Yes, without a doubt!

Were you going to fuck her again despite her warnings? Absolutely! She fucks too good and finals are around the corner. You need a destressor!

Dina was able to let it go after reprimanding you, but you knew that she felt a bit uncomfortable whenever you two were in a room together. It wasn’t due to your private relationship, but because Ellie was a degenerate slut that greeted you by pinching your ass instead of waving like a normal person!

You and Ellie’s newfound… friendship? Situation? You weren’t sure what the fuck this was. What do you call fucking someone you barely know four times a week and then seeing them in their Starbucks uniform every morning on your way to class? The main topic of conversation is always either can I get two cream cheeses instead of one? or hold this blunt so I can make you squirt.

You know she likes turtles! She has a small tattoo of one right under her ear! You couldn’t stop poking it when she drove you back to your building after digging you out in her car last week.

You knew Ellie had a reputation on campus for being a shroom-slinging whore, but she’s… more than that! She’s so funny! And cool. And pretty. And a sweet-talker and—

… You may have developed a little crush on her since you started fucking. You haven’t felt these high school butterflies since you were in high school.

Plus, she rolls up for you sometimes! That counts for something, right?

You applied your mascara, wiggling in your desk chair excitedly while you downed the rest of your shot. You choked down the burning liquid, and your phone went off.

You sucked your teeth, turning in your seat to face an occupied Niah as she bobby-pinned her Santa hat onto her head.

“Did you tell Dina t’come early? It’s not even eleven.”

She looked over her shoulder at you, “Nah, is she coming?”

“She’s almost here,” you showed your best friend the messages, and she shook her head, hastily retreating to the mirror to straighten her appearance. And show more cleavage!

“This bitch, I tell you.”

You poured and downed two more shots for good luck, smudged your liner, and shoved your phone into your jean shorts pocket. You sprinted over to your roomie and slapped her ass with a bright grin, making her snort.

“You’re a hoe. Hand me my phone.”

You grabbed the plush on her hips and thrusted into her ass, “I’m getting fuuucked, I’m getti—“

She laughed hard, “Get off me!”

You squealed and jumped in elation before Dina rang your line and summoned the both of you downstairs.

The music was the main reason you hated Christmas-themed parties. How are you supposed to bump and grind to The Little Boy that Santa Clause Forgot?!

You, Niah, and Dina had been party-hopping for the last hour, and you were bored out of your fucking minds! You were more interested in watching the burning ash falling from Niah’s blunt than this packed house.

The soccer house disappointed you. And you’re still horny!

Dina grabbed you and Niah’s hands and ushered you onto the just as packed front porch, littered with drunk people singing and dancing in the middle of the blocked-off street. This seemed more fun than the party!

You could see Jesse and his friends out of the corner of your eye, so you grabbed your friends’ arms and dragged them down the slippery steps; You were so desperate for entertainment that you surged through the freezing cold like nothing.

“Jesse!” You waved your arms excitedly as you jogged up to him.

Dina’s boyfriend whipped his head around and smiled once he saw you and the girls rushing up. You saw Ellie out of the corner of your eye, draped in her Nutcracker sweater that read CRACK DEEZ NUTZ in large white letters and an antler headband. She looked you up and down… a few times as she gawked at your bare legs. You were so happy you decided to risk hypothermia and wear fishnets!

Pretend you don’t see her! Don’t look desperate!

You threw your arms around an extremely high Jesse before greeting the rest of the soccer team with polite hugs. All except Ellie. You caught a glimpse of the small bong in her hand before she brought it up to her mouth to rip from it.

Jesse’s slow drawl snapped you out of your leering, “Fuck, y’all aren’t cold?!”

All three of you answered unanimously, “YES!”

The group erupted into light laughs before Niah cut in, “Bro not gon’ lie… the music’s trash in there— “

“THANK YOU!” “EXACTLY!” “I TOLD THAT FUCKER TO CHANG— “

The entire soccer team concurred loudly, but you were hardly paying attention. Your hazy mind was hyper-focused on Ellie’s dirty sneakers, watching her weight shift from one foot to the other as she listened and laughed along to the complaints.

“Hi, Ellie.”

An… overtly flirty tone that you didn’t recognize caught you off guard, and you immediately stiffened. You peeped and eyed the girl that walked up with her friends, pulling her into an incredibly awkward hug. You took note of how offput Ellie was by public affection.

She received it anyway, “Hey yourself. How you been?”

Your ears grew, “Fine, chilling. You selling?”

She tsked, “Not tonight, sorry. You can come by tomorrow or something if you have time.”

“Alright cool, I’ll text you. Have a good night,” you saw Ellie’s head jerk in acknowledgment before the group departed. Your eyes dropped to the floor in front of you.

… Ellie never gave her an address. Has she been to their apartment before?

“You okay?”

You jumped at Niah’s concerned tone from behind you. You sighed and nodded at her, “We can leave anytime.”

Before you could reply, Jesse spun and interrupted, grabbing your shoulders, “Leave? What the fuck, it’s Christmas! Come back with us.”

“Where, uh, where are we goin’?”

He rolled his eyes like it was obvious, “Back to our place. I already know Michael isn’t gonna change the fucking playlist ‘cuz he’s a fucking loser! Let’s go, c’mon.”

You mistakenly looked at Ellie, who was already looking at you. Her eyes were shining with mischief, the corner of her mouth lifting in a sly grin. She looked like she was waiting for your answer. An excited zap went through your chest. You spoke without hesitation.

“Yeah! Let’s go!”

You secretly watched Ellie take another hit.

That Uber XL was crammed as fuck, but at least the music banged! Finally! Future just saved your fucking night!

And Jesse made edibles from scratch! Christmas came early!

Nothing about this night was going how you planned; You were supposed to be getting your shit wrecked by your newfound… whatever, but instead you were getting handed adult gifts from the soccer players! You were not expecting to receive a holiday-themed goodie bag filled to the brim with pungent, iced sugar cookies.

Niah accepted both yours and hers eagerly before making her way towards the living room couch to dig in. You, Dina, and Jesse were all sitting at the small dining table playing Uno. Ellie was playing with you all, but she excused herself to her room to take a phone call, and you hadn’t seen her since. It was her turn!

Dina and Jesse were having an intense argument about the 7 and 0 card rules, and you moved on autopilot. You looked around to see all the soccer players and Niah laughing and slumped on the couch before you stood and trekked down the hallway. You knocked on her door.

“Ellie? It’s your turn to take!”

… Silence. No response.

You knocked on her door again, “Ellie?”

You heard some shuffling come from inside, so you decided to check on her. She smoked a lot; Maybe she needed some help getting into bed!

You slowly twisted the doorknob and peeped through the small opening in the wood, and her raspy tone immediately filled your ears like warm honey.

“Uh huh, rub that clit like I would. Nice’n slow.”

Ellie was completely shirtless on her bed as she twirled her antlers with her free hand, shoes kicked off as she spewed filth to… whoever the fuck was on the other line. She couldn’t see you, and you felt guilty for spying, but the fire that she ignited in your stomach planted your feet to the floor.

“Mhm, miss you so fucking bad.”

… Why were you still fucking snooping! Shut the fucking door!

“Yeah? Gonna let me?”

Why’d you almost nod? You’re losing it; You need to fuck her!

“Wanna know something really hot?” She whispered. Your heart was pounding in your chest and your palms were sweaty. Yes, you do! Anything!

“I think we have an audience,” she hummed with a sly grin, setting her headband on her thigh before looking up at you. You nearly hit the floor like your stomach just did.

She chuckled and your clit throbbed. You hate how desperate she gets you, “Yeah, she’s cute. She has the wettest pussy I’ve ever fucked.”

Your body was on fire and your breathing was shaky; You swore to send your hospital bill to her address. She was going to put you in a coma!

“Yeah… tag team her with me,” she bit her lip after her suggestion and that was enough to get you to slam the door. For the first time in your life, your embarrassment overshadowed your arousal. You heard her giggling! You're never going outside again!

“Why the fuck are you standing there like that.”

You let out a shocked noise at Dina’s voice, trying to look as… not creepy as possible.

“I, uh, Ellie… S-She fell asleep! It was, um, her turn to pull and I just— “

You felt your phone vibrate on your cheek. Dina crossed her arms in front of her, staring you down with an arched brow. You flinched and pulled your device out, Ellie’s message sitting on your bright screen.

You held back your shudder.

You heard Dina sigh, “Y’all better not be loud.”

You glanced up at Dina’s hushed tone, her brow arched at you.

“H-Huh?”

“Niah isn’t going anywhere, and neither are you. Go see her,” she sighed and pointed at your snoring roomie. “Just don’t be loud. His room is right next to hers and I’m tired.”

Your arms wrapped around her as you cheesed.

“Ireallydidn’twantthistobeweirdIloveyousomuch— “

She snickered in your ear and patted your ass in encouragement, “Yeah, yeah, okay. Just… just try’n keep it light, okay? Have a good time and leave it at that.”

“I will! Promise!”

You planted a wet kiss on her cheek before turning to yank at Ellie’s doorknob again.

You busted into Ellie’s room and was immediately hit with the sound of your moans.

She was sitting on the edge of her bed, nonchalantly packing the same bong from earlier as your… series of Snapchat memories played on the table. She looked up at you upon entry.

“‘Sup.”

You waved lamely and immediately cringed. Why does she make you so fucking nervous!

“… Wanna hit?” She ushered the bong to you. You shook your head and… spoke. You’re such an idiot!

“No thanks… but you can, uh… h-hit this pussy?”

The shock on her face made you pray for lightning to strike you down, never to be seen or heard from again because what the fuck did you just say and why did it sound like your screams from her phone were increasing in volume—

Ellie giggled. She actually laughed, and it made you smile. She sounded so cute, like she doesn’t obliterate pussy on a day-to-day basis!

She grabbed her lighter and lit her overstuffed bowl, muttering into the opening, “Come watch this with me.”

Your gut erupted with excitement when you shuffled closer, taking a seat right next to her, your shoulders touching. She blew her smoke away from you before grabbing her phone from her nightstand! How long did these memories go on for!

“I never got to ask,” she swiped to the next video of you gagging on her fingers. “You do porn?”

You choked on air, “… No?”

She looked at you blankly, her thumb moving mindlessly on the screen, “You should. You’re so good in front of a camera.”

Your face burned like she called you the most beautiful person in the world. Don’t look at her titties!

“Thank you!” You squealed with a bright smile.

“Mhm,” Ellie gawked at you before shutting her phone off and tossing it behind her, pulling at the hem of your shorts, “Lay down’n take these off.”

Your shoes went flying across her room, almost hitting her dresser before yanking your shorts down your legs. Ellie stood and grabbed your chin, halting your frantic movements and pressing a light kiss to your lips. The feeling didn’t last a second, but you swore your heart grew a heart before it exploded into red glitter in your chest. You’re shocked the remaining specs didn’t land on her face. She hardly ever kisses you!

“Gonna let me eat this angel cunt before I knock out?”

You were a mere dog on a leash. You know your eyes glossed over at her tone. She smirked knowingly, pushing your shoulder until you laid flat on her blanket before dropping to her knees in front of you.

You didn’t have time to take your fishnets off, so she tore the crotch of them with her two veiny hands, —holy fuck—exposing the wet patch on your lace panties.

She didn’t bother to remove flimsy, damp fabric, merely moving it to the side and revealing the soft, curly hairs on your pussy, your clit throbbing whenever her breath hit it.

“You gotta pornstar pussy, swear to god.”

You snorted and looked down, “Why do you want me to do porn so bad?!”

She sneered playfully, “I’m a girl with needs and I’m asking my favorite link to help me out. You get a fat check and I nut, everybody wins!”

You laughed brightly, “You’re annoying!”

She rolled her eyes before licking deeply into you. Your whole body shuddered at the feeling of her soft tongue, your hand finding solace in the loose strands from her bun. You moved her hair from her face, sitting up on an elbow so you could watch her lick you out. She started slowly, swirling her wet muscle on your pulsing bud, spread your slick around before dipping down, shoving her tongue in your pussy, and coming back up to spit all your juices on your clit

Your thighs were trying to jerk closed around her head, but she pried them open, digging her nails into your plush skin in warning. Your wet gasps were catching in your throat with every skilled swipe of her tongue, your lashes fluttering

You couldn’t hold back the loud moan that escaped when her tongue pressed against your walls, and she pulled away, landing a harsh slap on your pussy, “Don’t wake my friend up.”

Your head jerked, “M’—oh fuck— “

She murmured uh huh right on your clit, and eyes rolled, your hips bucking down to get her to drag her tongue over that one spot again you love it when she licks right there—

She sucked your clit into her mouth, her soft lips massaging your sensitive bundle. Your ankles locked behind her head, her bun completely dismantled in your tight grip.

“Ellie— “

“Yeah, angel? Boutta cum?” she mumbled against your pussy.

“Y-Yeah— “

She snatched a hand from your thigh and fucked her index finger into your cunt, hitting all your spots like it was in her nature.

You tried your hardest to shut the fuck up, but you couldn’t! Whines escaped your mouth as quietly as they could as she fucked and ate your cunt at the same time. Your soft walls were squeezing around her calloused finger like it never wanted her to leave, completely drenched in your slick.

“Cutest fuckin’ pussy. Give it t’me, needa drink that cum— “

Your jaw dropped in a silent scream, your walls clenching and squeezing and leaking on her before your orgasm crashed into you. Your lashes fluttered and your eyes crossed in your head, a line a drool dripping off your tongue and onto your fuzzy sweater. Your toes won't uncurl in your damaged stockings; You definitely weren’t going home tonight!

You watched Ellie swallow every drop of your cum, releasing hums of satisfaction after every pulse of your pussy. Her eyes were sparkling!

She forced the last of your pleasure out of you until you went limp on her mattress and pushed her head away. She landed a light kiss on your thigh before standing to stretch.

“Take this shit off and lay down with me.”

She lightly pulled at your sweater sleeve and rejuvenated you, tearing it and your bra from your body. She eyed your tits before walking over to her side of the bed and shredding her jeans off, sliding under her cotton sheets.

She said nothing, her back turned to you as her body relaxed into her pillows. You felt a little shunned, but she took care of you like she always does when you come over! You tucked yourself in, hyper-focusing on the blotchy bruises on her neck and red lines that cascaded down her toned back until you drifted off with a dull sting in your chest.

omg the actual p1 ok slayyyy

taglist? :3

night yall LOL

teaser, 2, 3, four, five

#ellie williams smut #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #ellie williams au #ellie williams x black!reader #ellie williams x you #fratadjacent!ellie #ellie tlou #lesbian #works 𖧧࣪#black!oc #black!reader

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rockstarhaechan · 4 months

Text

♫ pairing: rockstar!hyuck x fem!reader

♫ warnings: smut (minors dni), smoking, dom!hyuck, sub!reader, hyuck being extremely rough, choking, fingering, cum eating, pet names (doll)

♫ note: thought i’ll drop this little drabble, also tell @onyourhyuck that her writing makes me levitate

“are you new here? haven’t seen you at this bar before” a handsome young man asked you, carelessly taking the cigarette away from his mouth, smoke blowing into your face.

watching every move he does, the way he holds the cigarette between his index and middle finger, smoke traveling out though his mouth into the air, he looked gorgeous.

“i’ve been here before several times, you just never seen me here before i guess” you lied, oh and how you had the guts to lie straight into his face, but he knew you did.

“oh really? you want to know how i know that you lied? because this is my bar and i talked to all the pretty women in here before, i would’ve remembered you if i met you before doll” with one swift motion his cigarette landed on an ashtray, eyes staring down at your cleavage as he imitated you with his looks.

“well what’s your name?” you finally had the power to ask him, being caught red handed while lying wasn’t the best thing happening to you today.

he stepped closer to you hands finding their way to your hips resting comfortably on your hip bones as you felt his hot breath on your face.

“call me haechan for now and you are doll?” his hand slipped down to your ass, squeezing it tightly making you squeak a little.

“y/n, that’s me” you could’ve slapped yourself for that answer, acting all childish cause he’s basically turning your world upside down in a few seconds.

haechan just laughed at you, completely fantasized about the way how you act and how you talk.

“cute, absolutely adorable doll” his words let your face flush in a dark red, and as he took your hand to lead you somewhere else, your mind went completely blank.

“w-where are you taking me?” scanning your surroundings as you noticed that you already passed the bathroom and the vip lounges, not being able to tell where exactly haechan has been taking you.

“hyuck where are you going?” a man shocked his head out of a door, taking a glimpse of your presence before letting out a small but sharp “have fun” with a small smile on his face.

“hyuck? is that your real name?” you sounded surprised, still trying to figure out where he’s taking you, until he stopped in front of a door all the way in the back, no one else is here and you saw a little sign saying “ lee donghyuck”

he wasn’t answering you, only pushing you into the room before closing the door as his attention turned back to you.

pushing you against the now closed door, hands rooming over your body, soft moans escaping your lips.

“hyuck” you breathed out, you weren’t planning on hooking up with someone tonight yet you let him do anything he desired to do to you even with his hand around your neck.

he slowly cut off your airflow as he told you to keep quiet, loosening his hand around your neck a little, making it easier to breathe.

“you’re so pretty doll, been eyeing you all night, fuck” his breathing was very unsteady, barely able to keep a rhythm almost hyperventilating.

you against his door wasn’t enough for him after some time, basically dragging you over to his desk clearing it with one hand before your back hit the cold wooden table.

“hyuck wha-“ his hand was already under your dress, feeling the inside of your dripping cunt, two fingers you assumed but you’re a moaning mess already.

his fingers are pounding into you, no sign of mercy for you, basically penetrating your body as his other hand hovered over your chest, resting on your neck his lips meeting yours as he placed sloppy kisses on your lips.

“f-fuck how are you so good at this” fingers curled up deeply into you as you arched your back, hyuck used this opportunity to place his hand against your back practically pushing your back higher into the air letting him hit your g spot even better.

he was fingering you brainless and you couldn’t do anything about it, you just let him do whatever he wants.

“fuck you’re so pretty looking so fucked up, mascara running down your face with tears in your eyes” he licked his lips, getting turned on by your messed up presence.

soon your cunt tightened around hyuck’s fingers, signaling him you’re gonna be cumming any second around his fingers.

“you’re gonna cum around my fingers without me allowing you? who do you think you are doll, my band is performing without their lead singer right now, you fucking cum when i tell you” hyuck roughly grabbed your jaw when he started talking to you but you weren’t sure if you could handle it any longer.

“i don’t think i’ll last longer” your voice was quiet, his fingers really worked their magic in you cause no one else has ever done that to you before like he did it.

“fucking cum” he sounded mad, but this was your signal to finally let your pleasure rush over you as you threw you head back and came undone around his pretty long fingers.

hyuck just slowly removed his fingers out of your body, licking them clean before he kissed you aggressively letting you taste yourself but your attention was on his soft lips, thinking about what magic they could do.

“next time when you come back i wanna see you again, could you do that?” he still sounded a little mad but mostly happy about meeting you.

you just nodded like a little puppy as you got up from his desk, skirt moving down again as he started to leave the room.

“aren’t you going to say goodbye or give me your number?” questioning him, not sure what he’s gonna answer as you walked closer to him once again.

“you come into my bar, stop me from performing cause you looked at me like a slut in need and then you ask me for a goodbye or my number? you’re funny” he laughed you straight in the face as you noticed that you’re definitely not getting a goodbye or his number.

“you know where to find me, you’ll find the way out don’t ya?” hyuck smirked at you, locking his door behind you, leaving you with wanting more and more.

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irisintheafterglow · 8 months

Text

As Long As You Love Me (bf!gojo x you)

summary: things just feel so off lately; at least he's there to keep you grounded.

wc: 1k

cw/tags: angst/comfort, established relationship and pet names (babe, baby, love, angel), college!gojo, implied depression/anxiety but nothing explicit, mentions of food and eating, mild language, yeah he's such a simp for you and would burn the entire world down for you

note: is this painfully self indulgent? very. do i have the feeling that other people need this besides me? definitely. hope you enjoy, take care of yourself babes <3

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated :)

“Hey, gorgeous. Checking in on you again. D’you mind if I swing by your place? I forgot my charger and I really need to finish that lab report. Also, it’s an excuse to kiss you until you’re sick of me. Kidding! But, not really. Anyway, I love you. I’ll be there soon!”

He knows in his gut that something’s off when you haven’t responded to his calls for four hours. To tell the truth, the calls were going through to your phone, but you’d let it ring until it sent him to your voicemail. It was too much and you were too tired to do anything but stare at his photo appearing on your screen, well-lit by the afternoon sun but feeling the darkest you’ve felt in weeks. It was a terrifying situation, feeling the strong grip on reality you maintained for so long start to slip from your fingers. Without warning, the air stopped feeling comforting, food stopped tasting delicious, and the laughs of your friends slipped through one ear and out of the other. It was overwhelmingly distressing but even your body felt too exhausted to cry. So, what was there to do but lay in bed and wait for your energy to come back?

Opening the door for him is what you could do.

He didn’t really give you a choice, with his incessant knocking that would definitely end up in a noise complaint from your neighbors if you didn’t unlock the door. Ever so slowly, you drag yourself out of bed and down the hall, wiping the dark circles under your eyes like it would make a difference. A glance at the side table by the door revealed no charger of Satoru’s, just some of his rings and your keys with the little Winnie the Pooh charm he’d gifted you a few months back.

“Because you’re my honey!” He was giving you one of those sideways grins again, the one where his head tilted to the side like a kid who’d got caught eating cookie dough straight from the bowl. “You’re so sweet that I have an addiction, just like Winnie the Pooh.”

“I don’t think Pooh has an addiction, sweetheart,” you giggled, leaning back into his arm stretched over your shoulders on his couch. “It’s just his favorite food.”

“You’re right. There’s no way that he could maintain homeostasis with just honey, so he must be taking other things to sustain–”

“Satoru, I love you. Please stop talking,” you say tenderly and cover his mouth with your hand, abruptly pulling away when his tongue darts out to lick your palm. He flashes a sharp canine at you in spite of your protests of disgust, gently taking your chin to pull you close enough for him to kiss you. “I love you, even though you do weird shit like that.”

“You love it when I do that ‘weird shit.’ It keeps our relationship interesting,” he argues against your lips.

“That’s one way to put it,” you reply and he’s kissing you again before you have the chance to tell him off again. If you could, you would bottle that moment and keep it in a jar, drinking it anytime you started approaching the edge again. Your heart aches even before you’ve finished twisting the door handle; he was going to see you at a low point he hadn’t seen from you in a while, and the thoughts of being a burden were already nudging the back of your mind. With as much courage you could muster, you finally swing open the door and see him standing against the wall with a bag of divine smelling food.

“There you are, I was worried I’d have to sneak in through your window like we’re in high school again,” he greets warmly, glowing in a way that wasn’t blindingly hot like the sun. Everything about him radiated safety, something that you didn’t know you were craving until he was with you.

“I couldn’t find your charger anywhere, love. I’m sorry,” you say quietly, taking the plastic bag from him and setting it on the counter. You can tell he’s being careful around you, as much as he’s trying not to show it. Your limbs feel like dead weight and, even with Satoru so close, you just wanted to lie down again. “I looked on my desk and the kitchen table and–”

“Yeah, there’s no charger here, baby. I made that up so I could come over and spend time with you,” he admits and it pulls the tiniest smile out of you. “There’s my angel; I missed your smile, even if it’s a little too weak right now.” When he steps close enough, your forehead fits in the crook of his shoulder and you exhale deeply, swallowing the mix of confusion and sorrow suddenly rising in your throat. His arms snake around your waist, holding you firmly against him, unwaveringly confident in his ability to keep you safe.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Satoru,” you whisper on his skin, swallowing thickly again. “I was doing so well and now I’m not. I don’t know what happened.”

“You don’t have to know what happened, baby. You know that something is off, and that’s what matters.”

“How is that more important than the reason why this is happening?”

“Because it means I can help you through it, even if we don’t know what triggered it,” he replies without hesitation and a few tears escape down your cheeks. It feels good to cry on his shoulder and have him hold you, even when you don’t feel worthy of love. “Let’s eat, and then we can go back to your bed. Is that okay?”

“Mhmm,” you hum and his lips press a line of kisses on your forehead. His eyes suddenly widen and you can’t help laughing when your ears pick up the sound of his stomach rumbling, loud and persistent. “When did you last eat, baby?”

“I was waiting until I got here and the car ride was torture,” he laments, returning to his typical, dramatically lovable demeanor.

“Thank you, Satoru. I don’t deserve you.”

“Yes, you do. You deserve the world and so much more, and I would give them to you if you asked.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x y/n #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo fluff

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emerald-writes · 6 months

Text

Mission at a sex club

Marvel-smash bingo: Sex Club

This is my first installment of @marvel-smash-bingo bingo card! go check them out!

Bucky x Fem!Reader

You are sent to a sex club on a mission and your partner? The one and only Bucky Barnes.. yup the very one who hates you, right? Then why is he so jealous when the target eyes you too much?

Warnings: Nothing explicitly described, just mentions of sex trafficking, sexual exploitation and non/dub con

I low key kinda don't love this, might rewrite it in the future... We will see

This is also my first time writing any sorta enemies to lovers, so sorry if its awkward at parts

“And you’ll be partnering with Barnes,” Steve said as he placed the mission folder down in front of you.

“What? Steve no! He hates me!” You whine, looking up at Steve as he sits beside you. Rolling his eyes “he doesn't hate you.”

Just then the very man walks in, his soft brown hair tucked back in a man bun, and he’s wearing that maroon henley that makes you practically drool over his muscles. He clears his throat and that’s when you realize you were staring.

Awkwardly smiling Steve stands to greet his lifelong friend “Hey punk! Here’s your next mission. You two will visit the new Naughty night downtown. As an undercover couple.”

Bucky practically glares at you and Steve when he hears the word ‘couple’ “Seriously? A couple's mission? You're kidding me, right? A sex club on top of that!” Muttering to himself he sits down and skims over the folder, giving you ample time to watch his sharp jaw clench and steel-blue eyes glare down. Even if this man hates your guts, you can’t deny he's hot.

“The team and I have decided you two need to get over this petty thing you have against each other” Steve looks between you and Bucky, rolling his eyes at your exasperated groan.

“Steve-“ “But Steve-!”

The captain cuts you both off “Enough! You two need to grow up and learn to get along. End of discussion! You go tomorrow night, figure out your plan” Steve puts his foot down, silencing both of you with his palpable disappointment. You hate disappointing Steve, he always has so much faith in everyone on the team.

“Okay, fine,” you say, looking over at Bucky just to see him glaring daggers at you. “Let’s discuss plans then I guess, and boundaries, since this is a sex club, and we may have to.. act accordingly”

“Yea. I won’t do anything you're uncomfortable with. I’m sure you're good at sitting down and looking pretty. If you could keep your mouth shut” the super soldier smirks at the look of anger on your face.

“I’m not just gonna sit and look pretty. I’ll be gathering intel, just. Like. You!” Huffing you look down at the images of the club “Let’s just go in, see what we find out. Easy”

“Easy? Doll this is an actual professional mission, I’ll tell you the plan tomorrow alright?” Barnes says, standing up to leave.

“No. That’s not how this works. We make the plan together, so sit your ass down James” you demand, tossing the folder back onto the table “or at the very least we write down what we are both comfortable with happening. Okay?”

“Fine, we need to get the target's attention. How do you suppose we do that, sweetheart? You wanna make a plan, go on” he huffs, sitting in his seat, expectantly staring at you with piercing eyes.

“Well, we are expected, aren’t we? On the list. So we find him, and I ‘accidentally’ bump into him. Men easily want to help the damsel in distress” You roll your eyes, fluttering them teasingly. “Like I said, easy”

“You can’t just walk up to him, he will likely be in the VIP section, if you wanna be the damsel, perhaps wear something skimpy, slutty? Show off that body and get his attention hmm?” He smirks at your visible anger. You won’t believe this man.

“What? Something ‘slutty’?” You glower at him, wanting to throw something at his pretty face “I’ll wear what I damn please James. How about I get his attention, pretty easy, and you can come join in afterwards?” Standing up you breeze past him, not wanting to hear his next remark.

Hearing the elevator ding, you turn to see Bucky is finally ready. He walks over with Steve, dressed fancy in a perfectly tailored suit. Anyone with eyes can see he looks great, you find your eyes trailing up and down to his thick thighs, to his broad shoulders- you shake your head to refocus, practically feeling Bucky's smirk as he looks you over. “Hmm look at ya Doll, you can dress up pretty”

“Shut up James” you deflected, hoping he doesn't see the blush on your cheeks.

“Ignore his teasing, you look great! Jaw-dropping” your best friend who did all your makeup and chose the dress says as she guides you towards the fancy car for you and Bucky. “Now behave you two, don’t get too drunk” she smirks, waving you both into the car.

Rolling your eyes as you sit in the car, taking a deep breath to control yourself you turn to Bucky. “Ready? You remember the code words and our names?” You huff, watching the way he cracks his neck and turns to look you in the eye.

“Yes, I do” He’s blunt and refuses to look at you. “Let’s get this mission over with”

You hum softly as he pulls out of the parking spot and off into the road. After minutes of silence and palpable tension, you decide to break it “So, you ready to kick some ass? I see you do own a suit” waiting to get a reaction out of him.

“Yeah. Steve let me borrow it. I hate suits, so let's make this a quick mission alright?” He snaps angrily as he pulls into the underground parking below the club. “Recite the codewords, can’t have you forgetting in there”

“Typical traffic lights, ‘green’ is good, ‘yellow’ slow down or unsure, and ‘red’ is full stop what's happening, plus it is ‘firefly’ for danger and ‘bingo’ for found the target” You roll your eyes at the stupid nicknames “let's go in sir”

You link arms with Bucky as you walk up to the bouncer “We are here to see Mr.Almano” Bucky says “It should be under Ramirez. Henry Ramirez”

The bouncer nods once and after peering at his list, he turns and opens the door to let you both in “Just make sure you get that one a collar before others wanna play” the burly man nods towards you.

You watch as Bucky’s jaw clenches and he curtly nods, his arm tightening around your waist before guiding you inside. He leans down to whisper in your ear “Colour?”

“Green, I'm alright with a collar” you whisper back, fluttering your eyelashes up at him to look natural as he guides you towards the receptionist.

“Hello, sir! Please sign in here” The receptionist wearing a skimpy dress - could you even call that a dress - nods towards a book “Would you two like a collar for your lady, with a wristband for yourself? Each colour means something different, Red for taken, don't touch or engage with sexual play, yellow for just observing, and green is open for all” She opens a case, lightly touching each collar as she explains.

Bucky reaches out to grab the thin red collar, looking towards you seemingly asking, you nod quickly. “I’ll take this one. Where is Almano?” Bucky reaches over to attach the thin collar around your neck making you shiver delightfully. You swallow down the whimper that tries to escape at the feeling of his hands and the soft fabric.

“He is waiting for you at the VIP section Mr.Ramirez” She quickly says, pointing towards a stage-like area. You take a second to analyze the room, watching many people scattered around on the couches, chairs, tables and other sex toys. You gasp quietly as you see mainly naked women pleasuring the men. Beautiful, and tearful women strapped to tables and tied in rope in the center of the room. Along one wall is a bar, shelves of expensive drinks behind it, and on the other side are shelves of sex toys, whips, chains, gags, and dildos line the wall like a looming threat over the subs who wander around the club, making sure the awaiting doms are taken care off. But in the very back you see the V.I.P. section, a large roped-off area, filled with more alcohol and sex toys, but one man catches your eye as he stares right at you and Bucky. It is the target, a sleazy, and powerful man who works with Hydra to traffic women, and weapons through this very club, his eyes on you make you feel dirty and gross, even from across the room.

Bucky shaking you gently, and guiding you forward makes you zone back in and remember the mission. “Come on Doll, He’s waiting”

As you both walk up to the V.I.P. area, the bouncer nods and opens the rope. Almano turns to you both waving a hand to guide you over. “Ramirez! Welcome, welcome! Come sit” he gestures to the velvet couch across from him “Care for a drink? Or right to business?”

Bucky sits down on the couch, guiding you to sit on his lap, he wraps his bulky arm around your waist “Sure, I'll have a glass of whiskey, but let’s get to business, I don’t waste my time with your small talk”

He accepts his drink without looking away from Almano, perfectly playing the part of a sleazy businessman, eager to sell his wares. Turning to look at Almano, you find him groping a young woman kneeling in front of him.

“Of course, understandable. I trust we can come to an easy understanding. A deal that helps us both” Almano says, his gaze roaming down your bare legs, and up your tight-fitted dress. “At a high price”

You feel Bucky’s grip tighten on your waist “I told you what I want, access to your ports for my merchandise” Taking a sip of his drink, he rubs his hand up and down your arm, you arent sure he’s aware of how soothing it is.

“That's a pretty big ask, Henry” Almano tsks standing up and rounding over to the couch Bucky is seated on. “I need a pretty big payment, and I know of just the thing”

Bucky glares up at him “Name your price, I don’t have all day” His hand tightens almost protectively on your waist.

“Give me her” Almano points at you “A couple weeks with her and you can have access to my ports” He grins creepily, stepping forward to brush a hand on your hair, making you tense up and curl your hands into fists wanting nothing else but to punch him.

Bucky guides you beside him, standing up to tower over Almano. His posture rigid and imposing. “No. She is mine. Touch her and I kill you” his hand inches toward his gun tucked away beneath his jacket “Pick something else, quickly”

Your eyes bounce between Bucky and Almano, trying to think quickly, aware of how outnumbered you both are. You slowly inch your hand into your small handbag, clicking the panic button twice for backup and standing up behind him, placing a hand on his back.

Almano chuckles, contrasting Bucky’s scary glare. “Ooo protective aren’t ya? Hmm, you sure you wanna pick a fight, surrounded by my men?”

You hear an agent count down in your earpiece, squeezing Bucky’s arm in warning. He ignores it and punches Almano square in the face pulling a gun and shooting his knee. “I’m certain I do”

All hell breaks loose as your fellow agents swarm the club, shooting and knocking out Almano’s men, and guiding the guests or “workers” away. You feel Bucky’s hand tug you down to cover. “Stay down” he peeks out shooting at the last couple of enemy agents. “y/n? You alright?”

“I’m fine… you shouldn’t have started that James..” you huff, standing up and straightening your dress and looking up at him “Why’d you let him get you so worked up?”

He huffs and turns to walk away “Drop. It” he snaps at you.

“No. James! Look at me!” you run in front of him, placing a hand on his chest “Answer my damn question! Now James”

He glares down at you, before sighing and looking around the room “Not here- back home. I’ll find you” He pushes past you and walks away, leaving you stunned and confused by his behaviour.

Just as you go to follow him, you are stopped by Natasha calling your name “We need you over here, more paperwork” She nods towards the exit, and guides you away from where Bucky is currently talking to Steve.

“You’re dismissed, good work tonight,” Tony says, standing up and walking out.

You quickly stand ��Bucky, can we talk-“

He ignores you and walks right out of the room. You angrily follow him, shoving him as he stops in front of his door. ”what’s your issue, James?! Why are you ignoring me? You get your ego hurt cause I called backup?”

He glares at you “I had it handled. Now move so I can get into my room” he gruffly says, moving a step forward so you are chest to chest.

“No. You didn’t have it handled, you should have stayed seated, lied something! Not trying to fight the asshat” you scream at him, shoving a finger into his chest, demanding answers “Why were you so bothered by what he said! We would have dealt with it! Why did you go around claiming I’m ‘yours’”

He stays silent for a moment, staring at you intently before his eyes glance down at your lips “You really wanna know? I said you're mine because I want you to be. Okay? Happy?” He presses you further into the door, looming over you “Ever since I met you, you’ve been mine”

When you don’t respond, he shakes his head and hums softly stepping back “This is why I ignored you afterwards”

“You- wait- so you like me? me?” You look up at him with wide eyes, inching forward towards him.

“Yes- just forget it, I shouldn’t have said anything, I’ll go” he whispers, looking down almost ashamed.

“Don’t” you whisper, jumping forward to kiss him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him forward, kissing him passionately.

He freezes for a moment, making you unsure if you pushed him too far before he wraps his arm around your waist and pins you to the door delightfully. “Tell me your serious, please” he practically whines into you as he pulls away from your mouth to leave kisses and nips on your neck.

“I’m serious Bucky, please” you whisper back, happy to be in his arms just as you have wanted for ages. You feel him smile into your neck, as he opens the door, smiling down at you as he slowly walks you backwards into his room.

Please enjoy! thank you for reading <3

#bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel-smashbingo #marvel #marvel fanfic writer #fanfic #fanfic bingo #Marvelsmashbingo-masterlist #winter soldier #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x female reader

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desmond69miles · 2 years

Text

i’m so fucking exicted for batdr to be released so im posting our beloved ink demon :) feel free to send in any and all requests for batim! i love wrtiting for the game and be super happy to fulfil any desires.

Monstrance Clock

synopsis: dark fantasies and desires wrenched your guts. what happens when you decide to indulge your inky lover into one of your scenarios?

warnings: vaginal fingering, praise kink, hand kink, sir kink, bondage/bdsm, chains, size kink, double penetration in one/two holes, anal/vaginal sex, inaccurate Catholicism/christianity, bratting, dom/sub, slapping, face slapping, light sadism/masochism, overstim, squirting, breeding + creampie