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#and his brothers had enough of that bullshit
nikathesiren · 2 days
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The end of Golden Wind, but Giorno has two dads... and a twin (?) brother.
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Yeah, this is probably the umpteenth fanart you'll see confronting Giorno and Jodio, but I finally got time to depict my headcanon using my own AU "Giorno has two dads", and I love it, lmao. I had a good laugh doing this.
In my AU, Jonathan is that kind of loving and caring father full of patience, but he transforms into Satan himself once he had enough bullshit. And Dio is the kind of parent who supports and motivates his offsprings, but by encouraging them to do... not so good stuff, lol.
More of this Jonathan/Dio/Giorno AU! - More Jojo comics! - More of my art!
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anawrites3 · 1 year
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A super-hero takes advantage of Dick and forces him to blow him. Dick of course hides what happens but Slade knows something's up. A while later he runs into said "hero" and the two battle. The man brags about "fucking Nightslut's mouth" which allows Slade to piece the whole thing together and separate his head from his shoulders. :)
A week later Dick receives a bloodied item belonging to the man. Everyone interprets it as Deathstroke threatening Dick and basically telling him he's next. Only Dick knows that Slade is telling him he is safe now.
(Their relationship is a secret, but it is the best secret Dick has ever kept.)
I love how everyone would get scared and tried to get Dick somewhere safe and Dick would be just sighing in love, thinking about his man 😂💕 Lemme just-
"Grayson, please!" Damian begged, closing his fists on his brother's sleeve. "This is a serious matter!"
"Nothing good ever comes from a man like Deathstroke sending others things." Tim looked close to crying. They all knew that nothing could stop Deathstroke if he was set on something. "And this is a bloodied weapon of a hero who got killed just a few days ago, wrapped in a gift paper!"
"Calm down-" Dick began, though he wasn't sure what to say.
He didn't want his family to see the packet, he didn't want them to know what was going between him and Slade. He especially didn't want them to know why exactly Slade sent him a belonging of a dead man, killed brutally with Deathstroke's own hands.
But now they all think that Slade's going to kill him and are desperate to keep Dick safe. Dick knew his family, knew he would act the same if it happened to one of his siblings. Maybe... maybe he should just tell them about their relationship? What's the worst that can happen...?
"Throw this thing out." Jason suddenly growled, yanking the weapon out of Dick's hand. "This damn bastard thinks he can scare us-"
"No! Give it back!"
Jason's eyes widened in shock, the bits of green that began to show there dissapearing. Dick grabbed the weapon back. On the one hand he didn't want to have anything that reminded him of that so-called hero, didn't want to think back to what the man did to him but it was a gift from Slade, it was the sign that Slade loves him and cares for him and is ready to kill everyone who hurt him. Dick should feel bad about it, about a man dying because of him but after what he was made to do...
A small part of him was happy because of it. A small part of him felt good and safe that that bastard won't hurt him or anyone else anymore.
A bad, already corrupted part of him fell even more in love with Slade.
"I'm not throwing it out." Dick said firmly.
"Dick, think rationally." Bruce hissed, taking a step closer. Damian still didn't let go of Dick's sleeve. "Wilson sent you a weapon, still in blood, that belonged to the man he killed. There wasn't any contract over his head, Wilson murdered him just like that and you can be next-"
"Calm down, Bruce! Slade won't hurt me!"
"And how the hell can you be so sure of that?" Jason demanded.
"Because we're dating!"
Oops. He didn't mean to say this. Not like that.
A silence fell over the room, everyone taking in the meaning of Dick's words. Dick considered just turning away, maybe going back to his apartment in Bludhaven? Everything was already too much. But then Damian tugged him closer, his face twisting in a little frown.
"Well." he said slowly. "I suppose you always could choose a less suitable suitor. Wilson's at least a good fighter and is capable of protecting you. You have my approval, Grayson."
Dick breathed out in relief and ran his fingers through his brother's hair, more to calm himself than anything else.
"Thank you, Dami." he murmured. "It means a lot."
"Good." the boy scoffed, making Dick smile.
"Um? Can we go back to the part where deadly mercenary sent you some kind of a trophy?" Tim prompted. He looked confused and uncomfortable, perhaps because he was standing the closest to Bruce who was frozen in shock. Jason was stilled as well but it looked like he was at least breathing. "Is that some creepy way of asserting dominance or something?"
"I'm not telling you that." Dick pressed his lips into a thin line. He already said too much anyway.
"You are aware that we'll find out anyway, right?" Jason unfroze to snarl. He looked less furious than before but he still cracked his knuckles in a nervous habit.
"I'm pretty sure you won't. Slade won't tell you anything and the only other person is already dead."
Dick felt drained. It was a really tiring couple of days and he just wanted to curl in his bed. Maybe cry a bit too if he got any tears left.
Damian curled his arms around Dick's waist at his words. Jason's mouth fell open. Tim's knees buckled a bit underneath him.
They didn't need to hear anything else. Whatever that man did to Dick to made Slade furious enough to tear him apart...
"Dick-"
Bruce marched forward.
"What did you do?" he demanded and Dick suddenly felt very grateful for his little brother holding him.
"I'm-" he began and his voice cracked. He couldn't help but to think back to that man, to what happened just a few weeks ago- maybe if he just-
"Bruce, what the fuck!" one of his brothers hissed but he wasn't sure which one.
"I didn't- he-"
It was my fault, my fault, I should fight more, I shouldn't let it happen, then he still would be alive-
"You don't have to say anything, Dick." Jason stepped between him and Bruce, stopping the older man from coming even closer to his brother. "We won't ask."
"Jason-" Bruce began warningly.
"I didn't want him to-" Dick couldn't think, couldn't breathe-
"Shh. Let's get you somewhere comfy, Dick." Tim threw his arm over his shoulder and slowly lead him towards the door. "We can watch a movie, huh?"
"He made me- I didn't want to-"
"Shh, it's okay. We'll get some snacks too. What do you think? Maybe we can convince Alfred to let us eat some of that sugary cereal he hides from you."
"I'll go get it!"
"Slade-" Dick tried again but he didn't know how to form words anymore, he just wanted to know that he's safe and he was always safe with Slade.
"I'll call him." Jason offered, already slipping his hand into Dick's pocket to fish out his phone. "He'll be there soon, try and realx for us, alright Dickie?"
Dick noded and let his brothers lead him towards the living room. Bruce stayed behind without another word, his fists clenching by his sides.
----
Alright, this got dark pretty quickly! 😂 Im gonna stop there because I won't be able to stop myself and its so long already fsgdvs but anyway Slade came over, watched a movie together with boys and when Dick went to sleep he went to have a talk with Bruce. They fought, obviously, yelled and argued but Bruce came back to his senses and apologized to Dick for blaming him when he was a victim. Dick forgives him obviously 🙄 and Slade takes his little bird home and reminds him that he'll always keep him safe 🤗
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termagax · 1 hour
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i dont knowwwwwwwwwww i just. my thing is that i think the changelings could have an interesting place in the narrative given jims whole conflict is about trying to navigate his place in two worlds neither of which he completely fits in but both of which he needs to be his complete and authentic self. but they shoot themselves in the foot by making strickler the main one and they get sooooo close to doing this with nomura before getting bored and doing it again but worse with strickler. so in my mind i think this is why i was so set on addy being a changeling because i want her to fill that narrative role of someone who's ACTUALLY chill about this dichotomy and who really loves this part of herself without the baggage inherent to nomnoms situation (not acknowledging strickler he did most of that to himself). i just think he needs someone who can show him that its actually genuinely very possible to have both halves of his heart especially post-potion. but man. you cant really get there without dancing around the janus order stuff. and i know if she was real it would just be a cheap lampshade like "welllll shes a polymorph so. no familiar no problem" but that opens up a can of worms that i feel responsible for. and just in general the entire thing has so much baggage. i wish this show was GOOD.
#like i like the concept that the changelings were troll babies tortured with dark magic i think for me it justifies arrghs fondness for her#because hes in an extremely similar situation and i think him watching it happen under his command would be enough for him to say hm. i can#do this anymore goodbye. and i like those kinds of dynamics a lot#so i feel like you can just take that aspect and run with it#instead of the familiars give them some sort or mild innate mental magic? so they can write their identities into peoples lives#so you can still get that sense of like. an invader where its not supposed to be#without having to touch goblin baby kidnapping#'but that ruins the whole plot with claire' idgaf figure it out. i would do somwthing wlse with that anyways#they retroactively imply claires magic is innate later on in wizards anyways#so if youre gonna do that just make her brother also have it in some way which would make him a valuable asset if noticed by someone like#strickler. make it smt with the bridge or some other thing where they neeeeeeeed a magic user and itd be too risky to like. kidnap a studen#so they cant take claire. or nobodys noticed she has powers yet#make it so the baby goes missing and nobody seems to remember him at all EXCEPT claire#bcz strickler mind powers. which tangent but u can also use later for his thing w jims mom#and makes the whole 'we have to erase her memories of him' less convoluted bullshit#anyways back on track. just have the baby at the bridge ceremony for magic power reasons and in the conflict smth grabs him and takes him#thru the portal in the hopes of opening the bridge frm the other side#anyways.tthey had options is all im saying and they chose to do it in the worst way possible#just scrap the janus order im not touching that#it was so fucking pointless anyways. they didnt DO anything not one single thing
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bonetrousledbones · 1 year
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It really weirds me out sometimes with how far the sanscest shipping gets. Like, when they have kids who have kids with the kids of other sanses? why. what is the need. also dont get shipping sanses with sanses.
tbh that is one part i never really got into,, i get the appeal of making fankids bc its fun to explore how that would go and they’re basically OCs so you can go crazy! but on the shipping them together side,,, idk why but anything to do with shipping characters who are minors has always made me a bit uncomfortable. it’s entirely a me problem and i’m fully aware that there’s nothing inherently wrong with it its just!! weird to me idk!!!!!
as for the selfcest bit tbh as a selfcest shipper myself i deadass do not have a goddamn clue what about it appeals to me. i guess its a bit of wanting to see how these two “different” characters would interact with each other? honestly i think if you change up their backgrounds enough you can make it so that while they’re technically the same person, they’re also just as much their own self as if they were different, and yet they can still use their “sameness” as a way to find a deeper understanding in themselves that they might not have seen otherwise. that’s how i do mine anyway!
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reddiamondyeet · 11 months
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#what the fuck what the actual fuck#haven't we suffered enough. really bretney? really?#how the fuck is he going to deal with this? besides not of course. and to think his anger issues were getting better#the fact that he could have a fucking record over this bullshit she's spewing. i'm going to fucking hurt someone#fuck you bretney fuck you fuck you fuck you. i hope your pathetic boyfriend is murdered by that stupid drug dealer you live with#i'm a prison abolitionist but I make an exception for you. you had your chance. you were given mercy. were given help. you still did this#you took the support you were given and willingly threw it in the trash cause you didn't want redemption. you didn't want to get better.#you had everything you needed to be a better person and you made the same mistake you did last time. but i'm not going to chose mercy again#not this time. not after you painted me as a victim who can't defend themselves and my own fucking brother as an abuser#we'll see about me being the victim. we'll fucking see.#i've had enough of you making my mother want to die. i've had enough of seeing my father cry. i've had enough of my brother's breakdowns#i've had enough of telling my parents i'll go to puerto rico again if need be. i've had enough of you.#and i know it's not a coincidence that this happened only five days from my birthday.#i hope if we get this case dismissed that by the end of it i won't have to ever worry about you doing this again.#red rants#i should probably trigger tag this but i'm too out of it to think of what to tag it as. whatever.
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gothicprep · 1 year
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i've been meaning to write something for a while now about how misinformation is not a partisan issue, it's just an issue in general. i was mulling over writing something about how infowars waterboards statistics into saying whatever alex jones wants – i'll still probably do that in the future – but it's not something that exactly supports my thesis here.
but, lucky me, i had a perfect example fall into my lap this week.
so, was andrew tate taken into custody over twitter beef with greta thunberg? the short answer is "no" but i'll elaborate.
here's the primary romanian news report about the cops taking the tate brothers into custody. the way that this has been reported in US news media has basically been that a pizza box in andrew tate's video response to thunberg helped romanian authorities confirm his location. here's a daily beast article that insinuates this:
In a video rant he uploaded to Twitter, in which he smoked a cigar and tried to brush off the online spat, he unwittingly displayed a pizza box from a local pizza chain—alerting authorities looking for him to his presence in the country.
here's the problem with that, though – none of the romanian journalists who reported on this story said anything about the pizza box thing. there's also a huge problem with these stories just... citing each other.
if you dig through the citation loop long enough, you end on this daily star article that cites tweets (jurnelism!) from, of course, alejandra caraballo
According to Alejandra Caraballo, a writer and clinical instructor posting on Twitter: “Romanian authorities needed proof that Andrew Tate was in the country so they reportedly used his social media posts.
(as an aside, if you follow her on twt, i'd heavily recommend against doing that. she spews bullshit like her life depends on it and i think this is inexcusable.)
these are caraballo's tweets in question:
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the source for this is the romanian article i linked to earlier in this post. it doesn't say any of this. at least, the english translated version of it doesn't. for what it's worth, i'm not a romanian speaker, and i don't have any benchmark for judging if google's translation service is missing linguistic nuances. here's what it actually says:
Sources close to the investigation stated, for Gândul , that shortly after the completion of the computer expertise, the authorities waited for the right moment to catch the Tate brothers, who were always out of the country.
After seeing, including on social networks, that they were together in Romania, the DIICOT prosecutors mobilized the special troops of the Gendarmerie and descended, by force, on their villa in Pipera, but also on other addresses.
it's also probably worth pointing out that tate's villa was previously searched in april. while the article does say that social media was used to help confirm their location, it doesn't say anything about pizza boxes. and, like, given that tate is a prolific social media poster and was tweeting out videos of romania on sunday, i think it's safe to assume they had a wealth of other information to go off.
and if you don't want to take my word for it, nyt and wapo both reported that the spokesperson for the romanian prosecutor presiding over the case denied the pizza box thing:
Speculation online centered on whether a distinctive pizza box featured in one of Mr. Tate’s tweets to Ms. Thunberg had helped lead the authorities to him, but Ramona Bolla, a spokeswoman for the Directorate for the Investigation of Organized Crime and Terrorism, told The New York Times on Friday that that was not the case.
anyway, ain't it funny how caraballo's made the fuck up pizza tweet got 76 million views, 97k retweets, and 525k likes, while her appended correction got 78k views, 100 retweets, and 820 likes. her initial "source: my mind" tweet is still up. ain't. it. funny.
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ew-selfish-art · 8 months
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Dpxdc AU: Damian decides that it’s time to go collect his brother from his assignment. Danny is starting to sniff out some non-ghostly bullshit for once.
Damian knew his twin had been exiled from the age of seven, banished to travel and observe how scientists around the world engaged with Lazarus water. The only word that Damian received that his spare was still alive were the letters of lab reports and findings that were sent back to base. As the Heir, he’s pushed to be better lest he himself be exiled or simply executed. Danny becomes a fleeting thought and then once Damian arrived in Gotham, a none existent thought.
They weren’t raised to be friends or even friendly. The were not taught codependency or allotted time to bond. The could have been perfect strangers if not for their appearance and the stories of Danny’s shortcomings becoming Damian’s praise.
It’s only once Tim informs him of an intercepted letter, one sent and saved from years prior, that Damian recalls Danny enough to care. Tim prompts him to share more, especially given the coup recently committed by Deathstroke (Slade) and Talia gone into hiding with her zealots.
At family dinner that night Damian supplies: “I suppose I should be the one to bereave my twin of his assignment. His reports will certainly go unread.”
Chaos in the Batfam ensues- meanwhile across the country- Danny sneezes and finishes writing his yearly report: “No major discoveries aside from public record patents (attached), No assistance required. -Spare”. He doesn’t know why he bothers, he hasn’t received any contact from his mother or grandfather since he was 10ish and certainly hasnt thought about his twin. But, if there’s a chance (even an itty bitty one) that his reports are being read and are holding off his reassignment, he’d rather keep assassins out of Amity Park.
Little does he know that this letter is about to be intercepted by Pru, former assassin and friend of Tim Drake. He hadn’t expected his twin to suddenly arrive and tell him that his job was done. And certainly, seeing a plane filled with an uncomfortable looking ‘family’ that requested he join them and get to know Gotham and his birth father, was not on his bingo list.
Danny does his best to let them down gently- and they seem to be accepting that he’s acclimated to this weird little town and will leave him be- when Danny suddenly has to transform into Phantom in front of them to handle a rocket sent by Skulker.
They are less willing to accept his appeal to be left alone after that… Damian is trying to “bond” with him and all the others are trying to “help” in their own way.
Sam and Tucker howl with laughter at Danny’s suddenly very large family- all while secretly working with the Wayne’s to get Danny the fuck away from the Fentons before the scientists do something they can’t undo.
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ramshacklefey · 1 year
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It's amazing to me just how good the Mormon church has been at hiding just how bad they really are from public view. Even the shit that gets spread around is the relatively harmless bullshit. They had a crazy prophet with magic glasses. They believe in god-mandated polygyny. They think everyone who is good enough will get their very own planet after the world ends. They wear magic underpants. Mormon men are all paladins.
Here's one of the ones you hear less often:
See, like many other Christian sects, the Mormons really do believe that the existence of Christ obviates the existence of Judaism. Judaism was just a placeholder until the "real" church could be established by Jesus.
And the Mormons in particular believe, dead ass, that the entire inheritance of Israel has been given to them, because the Jews failed to recognize the Messiah when he was on Earth. They really do. They have this whole system where people are given a "divine revelation" about which of the Tribes of Israel they're a member of (don't worry, they decided that most people belong to the two tribes that are willing to "adopt" people. Only the most specialest boys and girls are members of the original ten).
Let's sum up so far. The Mormons believe that they are the people of Israel, chosen and protected by God. If Jews want to get back in on that party, they can always repent and convert to Mormonism, the one true church to which God gave all the rights and blessings that were originally bestowed on Abraham's house.
But it doesn't stop there!
The Mormons also believe, in all seriousness, that all Indigenous peoples of the Americas are descended from a small group of Jewish people who left just before the fall of Jerusalem (~600 bc iirc). Their entire weird-ass extra bible is a chronicle of those people's history in [unspecific part of America]. At the very beginning of the book, two brothers in the original family turn away from god, so they and all their descendants are cursed with dark skin, so that the good Nephites (who remain "white and delightsome") will always be able to tell themselves apart from the wicked Lamanites.
So, you've got supposedly Jewish people running around the Americas. And the "good" ones are white, and the "bad" ones are brown. Then, ofc, Jesus comes to visit them (I guess supposedly that's part of what he was doing during his dirt nap? Or possibly after he left again, it's not clear), and they all convert to Christianity, which they think is clearly the natural evolution of Judaism. Well, at the end of the book, all of them become wicked, in a kind of weird pseudo-apocalyptic series of events. They are all cursed with dark skin, until such time as they repent for their ancestors sins and return to the gospel.
But of course, Mormons being the good and kind people they are, they want everyone to receive the blessings of God and be brought into the houses of Israel etc etc. And it isn't the fault of those poor little Indigenous children that their distant ancestors turned away from God and became wicked.
So what's the natural answer? Well, Mormons are real big on missionary work, as we all know. But apparently that wasn't enough in this case.
Because the Mormon church has been one of the big players in abducting as many Indigenous children as possible, in order to indoctrinate them into being good Mormons, so that they can turn white again and be blessed. My mother remembers hearing talks about this in the 70s and 80s. The church literally had a "Lamanite Adoption Program," where families in the church were encouraged to get as many Indigenous children as possible away from their families and not let them be reunited until they were fully assimilated and ready to go back and proselytize about how wonderful the church is.
The church leadership literally talked about how wonderful it was to see these children becoming whiter. Actually whiter. Like, saying that when they finally saw them with their families again, it was beautiful how much paler they were.
I'm pretty sure this program has been officially ended, but it doesn't take a genius to speculate about who might be behind the curtains on the movement in the western US to gut the ICWA....
So yeah. Next time someone tries to tell you that the Mormons are just harmless weirdos, please remember that they're an antisemitic cult that advocates for the forced assimilation of Indigenous children to help them escape the cursed brown skin of their ancestors.
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talaok · 1 month
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a smutty joel imagine with him saying, “you’re in trouble doll”
Pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader
summary: Joel, your dad's best friend, has pissed you off once again for his constant fear of your father finding out about you, so you decide to make him jealous, only he doesn't take it as well as you expected... or maybe exactly as you had
warnings: jealousy, he grabs you by the neck at one point, possessive!Joel smut| a bit of thigh riding, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, she calls him daddy ONCE bc I need to cut back on the daddy kink it's becoming a problem, kind of exhibitionism, and unnecessary feelings cause i can never fucking write a story where they're just fucking for some reason
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You were flirting good
The way you only did when you weren't really interested, when it was just a game, when you were bored, or perhaps... in the mood for taunting someone
Maybe someone who was across the backyard, his hazel eyes burning a hole into the back of your head as he gripped his beer hard enough to shatter it, his head nodding slowly at whatever your dad was saying, but his thoughts only to you, only to that little asshole who had his hand on your cheek- on his girl
"I'd forgotten how funny you are" you said, after falling into a more than exaggerated laughing fit at one of Kaleb's miserable jokes.
He grinned with that smile guys have when they think they have it in the bag, when they’re already picturing you in their bed
As if
“Tell you what, I'm even funnier in front of a drink,” he said, his eyes glinting with victory “you free tonight?”
But before you could respond, a very much non-friendly voice barked from beside you
"she's not"
Joel looked even hotter than usual with that t-shirt clinging to his toned biceps and pecs, and the way he was looking at Kaleb... he looked ready to kill, and fuck if that didn't make him even hotter
"Tommy needs your help on the grill, I'm takin' a break" he nodded toward his brother, giving the guy a chance to scramble before he had to punch him in the face
"now?" Kaled wined, his gaze trailing to you, as if counting on the understanding of another man of what he was interrupting
"Now."
There was no room for negotiating, and the guy finally got it, sighing loudly before nodding
"Fine, I'll catch you later then," he smiled, watching you reciprocate, before he started for the grill
You squinted your eyes against the sun as you looked up at Joel, making a show of rolling your eyes as he gave you that stern, angry look he was always so good at giving
"Cockbloker"
You didn't wait for whatever smart retort he was gonna send your way as you turned around and started making your way into the house,
only of course, he was right behind you, closing the glass door to the kitchen with a loud thud
"you're in trouble doll"
again, you could only roll your eyes as you opened the fridge to look for what you didn't even know
The party of people just outside the windows was loud, but his steps as he stalked to you were the only thing you could hear
"I'm talking to you"
You could hear the restraint in his voice, almost feel it oozing off of him, the way you were getting under his skin, the way he was controlling his own rage
And when you only sighed, still not acknowledging his presence... then his self-control slipped, and his hand had forced the fridge to fly shut, the bottles rattling inside.
maybe this will get your attention
And it did, you turned to him, a bored, stoic look on your face
"what do you think you're doing?" he hissed, his jaw ticking 
"what?" you cocked a brow "I'm not allowed to talk to people anymore?"
The way he tilted his head, flames of anger lighting his eyes as he took a step towards you made you want to get down on your knees and suck him off right there and then... but then again, you were supposed to make him pay
"Don't give me that bullshit" he growled "That wasn't just talking, there's only one thing that guy was after and you know it"
You scoffed, taking a step closer to him in affront
"so?" you asked, raising your brows "What I was after the same thing Joel?" you argued "You know, since you're so scared of my dad finding out... since you're always saying I should find someone more age-appropriate, I figured... why not Kaleb?" 
Oh he was fuming
"At least he's not scared of my dad" you mocked "At least he wouldn't have to sneak out of my house after he's done fucking me-"
you didn't even see him move, the only thing you felt, was the back of your head hitting the fridge, and seconds after, his hand gripping your throat, and only then did you hear the gasp fleeing your throat
he had moved you to the other side of the fridge so that from outside, no one could see your dad's bestie choking his daughter without so much of a hair of second thought.
"If he even tries to come near you" his face was but an inch from yours "He won't have a dick to fuck you with sweetheart, got it?"
What did he think? That he was gonna scare you? please
You snorted, your mouth twitching in a smirk
"You don't own me Joel" you only purred "I can fuck who I want"
The snarl he let out was nothing but predatory
"You think that fucking guy's the right one for you?" he asked, his right leg in between yours, the top of his thigh dangerously close to your core 
"you think that little asshole's gonna make you come?" his breath was ghosting your mouth, but he ducked lower, murmuring against your ear now 
"You think Kaleb's gonna fuck you better than I do?"
Although shivers were running down your spine, you chuckled, as you murmured "Maybe"
He groaned, his thigh immediately going to your center, rubbing against your clit as his fingers tightened on your throat.
"say that again" he challenged, his voice rough and throaty
"what," you grinned, "you think you're some kind of sex god or something?"
The fact that he could hear all the little whimpers you were swallowing down your throat didn't help your case
"Have you forgotten already about all the times you were begging for my cock sweetheart?" he teased, his jeans damping with your slick as you parted your mouth in pleasure "All the nights you spent screaming my name, mh?" 
His warm words felt so good on your neck, and his leg... if he kept at it you might just fall apart like that
"you think another man can do that for you?" his eyes were boring into yours now, his hand forcing you to meet his gaze 
And when you didn't answer, the same smug grin on you, he understood what he needed to do
"You need a little reminder, 's that it?"
And just like that, you had exactly where you wanted him.
If he was aware that this was your plan all along, he didn't show it, probably because you had turned his brain into a jealous angry heap.
He watched the way you bit your bottom lip, the same way he's seen you do thousands of times before, need pooling in your iris and panties at the same time
"ah that's it, isn't it?" he growled, his right hand going to squeeze your ass "my dirty girl needs me to remind her who's the only man that can make her feel good huh?"
And fuck it, but you were already palming the bulge at the front of his pants
"whose cock she needs to be filled with" he smirked, watching your pretty eyes fall to his mouth
"then I guess I just have to, don't I?"
His lips were on yours faster than you could blink, his mouth ravenous and hungry as much as his tongue, which was exploring every inch of you as if he needed to have all of you, right there, right now.
You felt his hand leave your neck and seconds after your ear picked up his zipper getting undone and then he was picking you up and he was hastily freeing his cock from his boxers and-
It was all so fucking fast- he felt like a man possessed
For this much talk of you being the one to need a reminder, it looked like it was him the only one to need this
And maybe it was because seeing you talking to that guy made him see red, or maybe because it had been more than 24 hours since he had a taste of you and missed you more than anything, or maybe... maybe he was just starting to realize that it wasn't the 24 hours, and it wasn't Kaleb, but it was you, it had always been you, with that smart mouth and that smug attitude and your determination and kindness and beauty and fuck- this had never been just fuking- he could never just be having sex with you, he wanted to have you, all of you, not just like this, but in public, in front of everyone, in front of Kaleb and you pissed off dad- he wanted to- to bring you on a proper date and pay the bill and only then fuck you so good you forgot your name- he wanted, he wanted everything, he wanted you, completely.
"You know anyone could come in here at any moment right?" you asked breathlessly as you leaned away, your lips swollen already 
He had you propped against the part of the fridge facing the wall, so you were hidden from the outside, but anyone could have just taken a closer look, or come into the kitchen for a fresh beer and caught you just as he railed into you... and he couldn't have fucking cared less
"What, you scared?"
And the way you smiled- the way you smiled was enough to make a grown man drop to his knees in an instant
"fuck me, daddy"
God fucking damn him, but he might just be in love
"Jesus fucking Christ doll"
He didn't let you laugh at him before he had pounced into you with one hard and deep thrust, his mouth crushing into yours simultaneously to drown out that clamorous moan he already knew was coming from your throat
He didn't let you get used to him, he only started fucking up into you like he needed to split you in half, like he needed to get deeper into you that he'd ever been.
He was grunting with each push, and you could faintly hear the fridge beside you move in tandem with his movements, but you couldn't have cared less about worrying whether or not it could be seen from outside.
he hit a particularly deep spot inside of you and just as you were about to cry out like a mad woman, his hand was on your mouth, shutting you up for good
"you let another guy touch this fucking pussy and they're dead" his eyes were just as brutal as his thrusts, although a veil of harrowing honesty lay beneath them
He was being serious, he needed you to know that
 "got it?" he asked, your mind only half listening as your walls tightened around him "It's fucking mine" he purred, the hand he had on your waist tight enough to bruise "You're fucking mine," he said, "all of you" 
You swore you felt pain underneath the anger in his voice
"I don't care what you say, I'm the only one that can make you come, 'm the only one who can touch you or fuck you or- or fucking take you out to dinner- got it?"
If it were any other moment you would have teased him, but this... there was something too precious- too honest about this
"yes" you whimpered into his palm, 
And that sent him straight to fucking heaven, he couldn't help but relieve your lips of his hand and kiss you again, kiss you with every inch of life he had in him
"You're mine" he breathed, both of you breathing so heavily you were nearly hyperventilating
"I'm yours Joel" you promised, your core wisting and tuning as he drilled you closer and closer to the edge "I'm yours" you repeated, watching what it did to him, the relief plastered onto his face, the want only multiplying in his pace "only yours- all of me-"
"that's right" he breathed, his skin slapping with yours "My pussy, my body, my girl" he purred "You're mine, doll"
And just like that, he had pushed you over the edge, watching you fall apart closely before he couldn't help but follow suit, kissing you as he silenced both your moans, bottling them up inside of him, so he could never forget them, forget this.
You opened your eyes to find his already on you, so many unspoken words, feelings, hopes in them, and you couldn't help but smile, dropping your forehead to his as he settled you back onto the ground
"That was- wow" you sighed, still grinning like a kid "I should make you jealous more often"
"Please don't" he begged, his fingers drawing circles on your waist as you kissed him again, smiling softly onto his lips
You needed to talk, about what happened, about what this was, about everything... but as you both leaned away, a mutual understanding passed through you
Later
"You should get back out there" you murmured, although halfheartedly.
the prospect of moving away from his embrace felt like hell right now
"what about you?" he asked, his nose nuzzling against yours
"I gotta clean myself up" 
"I could help" 
You rolled your eyes playfully as a small laugh flowed through you
"Joel" you said, still smiling "go"
And so even if his whole mind, body, and soul were fighting against it, he did, kissing you one last time before he leaned away, fixed himself up, and looked at you one more time, before walking out of the kitchen and into the backyard
And as if on cue that fucking asshole had to come in and ruin his fucking vibe
"Hey, where's y/n? I've been looking for her" Kaleb asked, walking up to him.
Joel didn't even try to be nice, he didn't even bother with that "count to ten before answering" bullshit Sarah was always telling him about
"She's not interested, and if I see you even just looking her way ever again, I am going to kill you Kaleb, understand?"
To say the guy was taken aback was the understatement of the century
His eyes widened so much he didn't even look like himself
"w-what the fuck?" he spat "Where is she, I need to t-"
"she's in the bathroom" Joel cut him off, pure rage and annoyance in his voice, in his stare "cleaning my come off of herself"
Kaleb stumbled back, literally now
"w-wha-"
"I told you buddy" Joel said simply "she's not interested"
2K notes · View notes
m1ckeyb3rry · 4 months
Text
what it’s like to bring the jjk boys to…have dinner with your family!
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ft. fushiguro megumi, fushiguro toji, gojo satoru, geto suguru, ijichi kyotaka, inumaki toge, itadori yuji, kamo choso, kamo noritoshi, mahito, muta kokichi, nanami kento, okkotsu yuta, panda, ryomen sukuna, todo aoi, yaga masamichi, yoshino junpei, zenin naoya
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warnings: not all of these are romantic! reader is lowkey desi coded in some of them. reader is mentioned to have a brother, dogs, aunts/uncles, and cousins in some of them. reader slanders like 75% of the characters. honestly the characters might be ooc too i wrote this two years ago for fun and giggles and just found it again and wanted to post. also tw naoya!
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FUSHIGURO MEGUMI
Literally perfect
Your parents love him
Your dogs love him
You love him
Was kind of quiet at first but settled in eventually and opened up a bit
Was still kind of reserved but that’s to be expected from him
Your mother found it sweet that he tried to hide behind you when your uncles started interrogating getting to know him 
He let your younger cousins play with his shikigami so that your dogs could get a break from being bothered
Really liked the salad your mother made and asked for the recipe
1000/10 
FUSHIGURO TOJI
Actually not too bad
Was polite enough and liked the food
Showed your parents pictures of Megumi as a baby
They were suitably impressed
Your cousin asked him where he goes to the gym
He told him he doesn’t believe in gyms (thinks they’re oppressive institutions designed to disadvantage the poor?)
Did give him a discount code for some random protein powder that he’s sponsored by though
Asked your parents to donate to his charity
They were happy to do so and thought it was amazing that he has a charity
You decided not to tell them that his “charity” is literally just his bank account
4/10 for scamming your family
GOJO SATORU
Solid 7/10
Goofs around a lot but he did come so he gets points for that
Your parents hated him at first but then he showed them the album of cute Megumi pictures he has saved on his phone and they switched up
“He’s so responsible for raising a kid so young! And it’s not even his!”
Bullshit
He does NOT raise Megumi and you were the one who sent him half of those pictures 
Demoted to a 6/10 just for that but at least your parents like him
Also the fact that he had an album was cute
Somehow managed to keep the dirty jokes to a minimum
Your brother kept making fun of his eyes being so blue so halfway through he had to switch the glasses out for the blindfold
Surprisingly high spice tolerance
GETO SUGURU
Honestly really a fun guy!
Actually brought his own dish to the dinner??
AND IT WAS GOOD????
Your mother wants you two to get married now
Asked if he could take some leftovers back for Mimiko and Nanako
Which was very considerate of him actually
Your mother told him he didn’t have to return the dishes she packed the food in
Let your brother win at Scrabble
Listened to your mother talk about the auntie drama
Apparently he’s going to start putting coconut oil in his hair now
Your parents are going to adopt him and kick you out
9/10 would’ve been higher but he didn’t beat your brother’s ass at Scrabble (he wanted to “make a good impression”)
IJICHI KYOTAKA
Similar to Nanami in that he and your father got along really well
Your brother called him “goofy”
He had to go to the bathroom and cry after that
He did compose himself and came back to eat
Can handle spicy food quite well
Complimented your mother’s cooking
Brought flowers as a thank you for the dinner
Was super sweet and grateful to be invited at all
11/10 would definitely invite him again
INUMAKI TOGE
Everyone was really excited to meet him
Let your cousins play with his hair and do his make up and paint his nails
Was your partner for Charades and you two won by a LOT
Kept sneaking treats to your dogs
Your mother ordered seafood for him because he could only speak in rice ball ingredients and she thought he really wanted salmon
He did eat it though
He would be a 10/10 but he accidentally used his Cursed Speech on your aunt so 8/10
ITADORI YUJI
Somehow lit the grill on fire
Managed to put it out but he did lose his eyebrows in the process unfortunately
Looked stupid without eyebrows
Spent most of his time hanging out with the little kids
Your family actually really liked him though
He’s too sweet to dislike
Helped wash the dishes and did not break any
7/10 because you almost had to call the fire department
KAMO CHOSO
Showed up an hour late
Was friendly but kinda nervous and awkward at first
Loved the food
He and your brother are best friends now
Genuinely he gets along better with your brother than with you
Impressed your father with his history knowledge
3/10 was too perfect and now your parents keep asking why you’re not more like him
KAMO NORITOSHI
He hates kids
Spent the entire first half running away from your cousins
Once he finally escaped he got along great with the adults
They really liked how responsible and mature he is
Thought it was impressive that he’s going to be the clan head
Your aunt told you that he was a keeper and you should “marry for money, hope for love”
Started crying when your mother asked him if she could hang up his jacket for him
It reminded him of his own mother who he was forced to leave as a kid 
All of your aunts have unofficially adopted him now due to his tragic backstory
Deserves 10/10 just for being relatively normal 
MAHITO
-892378/10 your parents couldn’t see him because he’s a curse
He was very happy to hear that and nearly destroyed your house
You had to call Geto halfway through to chase him off
Your family was thrilled to see Geto again though so at least there’s that??
MUTA KOKICHI
Sent a robot in his place obviously
Everyone wanted to know why you brought a robot to dinner
They thought you had hit a new low
You had to explain that Mechamaru was basically his body because of how weak his actual body was
Nobody believed you
-3/10 he was nice but it was overall a humiliating experience
NANAMI KENTO
Cannot eat anything spicy
Started tearing up at the appetizers alone
Had a massive stomach ache afterwards and his face was red for like twenty minutes 
Your father liked talking to him about business and the economy and shit
Did not get scared when asked about his plans for the future
Actually has plans for the future
Your brother is kind of gay for him tbh (??) and threatened to marry him if you don’t 
10/10 because he still finished everything on his plate so he didn’t seem rude even though he was lowkey dying 
OKKOTSU YUTA
Tried his best
Your dogs tried to leave with him because they liked him so much
He brought gifts from Africa for your entire family
Did stop a toddler from getting kidnapped
Is physically really good at grilling but emotionally cannot handle the stress
Had a mental breakdown when you asked for a vegetable burger
Made the discovery that he really likes corn and proceeded to eat all of the corn you had bought for the night so nobody else got any 
Summoned Rika and allowed your cousins to use her as their dress up doll
Rika was very nice and enjoyed the experience
She wants to be a fashion model now
2/10 he burnt your vegetable burger and you were really looking forward to having some corn
PANDA
Is a panda
Your younger cousins thought he was adorable
You got asked multiple times if he was a furry
5/10 he was only invited because he had nothing else to do and you had to chase him with a hose beforehand because he refused to bathe
RYOMEN SUKUNA
-1244129/10
An asshole but what’s new 
Told your family to “go back to where you came from”
Degraded your parents
Degraded you
Degraded everyone really
You got into a fight with him and Gojo had to intervene
Did ask for one of your mother’s recipes so he could get Uraume to cook it for him
She did not give it to him
TODO AOI
See you thought this would be hell on earth
But it wasn’t???
Played with your dogs
Carried your cousins around on his shoulders
Your uncles were impressed by his muscles
He saved a kitten that was stuck in a tree
Did not ask a single person about their type in women
Annihilated everyone in Wii Sports Resort
Absolutely sucked at Just Dance though
He thought he was too manly for the wrist strap but then he threw the remote into the TV while playing Wii bowling and it broke
6/10 he said he’d pay for a new one
YAGA MASAMICHI
Literally your boss
Only invited him because you wanted a raise
He liked the food
Exchanged sewing tips with your mother
200/10 you got the raise
YOSHINO JUNPEI
Really cool!
Gave everyone good movie recommendations
Someone gave him a baby to hold and he nearly dropped it
Burnt his hand on the grill
Found your uncles’ shitty jokes funny so they all liked him
He was decent at debating with everyone and having intellectual conversations even though he cried whenever someone disagreed with him too harshly
Your parents were very dismayed to see the cigarette burn scars on his face
Your mother told him he could always come to your house if he needed to
4/10 because he almost gave a baby brain damage 
ZENIN NAOYA
Told your parents about your sex life
Called your mother “woman”
Your cousins have a crush on him solely based on his looks
He thinks he has a harem now
0/10 they are all like 13 years old
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3K notes · View notes
zyafics · 1 month
Text
play fake | rafe cameron (18+)
series play fake (part one) — ( masterlist )
pairing rafe cameron x female reader
summary when rafe cameron needs to secure a gf in order for his father to see him as a stable man, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.
content 18+, eventual smut, angst, fake-dating, jealousy, people-pleasing and independent! female reader, ward cameron pinning rafe and sarah against each other, rafe being an asshole
zya's notes i hope u guys enjoy! i'm just writing this as i'm trying to figure out the brother's rival series and what direction i'm going <3
𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚
Who knew Rafe Cameron is a blabbering drunk?
Working as a bartender on the docks, near Heyward's Seafood, you have your fair share of stories about the people who come in. Most of them are locals from The Cut, with the occasional tourists who wander the streets, settling for a clean place to eat.
But it's very rare to have a Kook.
It's been a visit for the past couple of weeks. You don't understand what caused him to come here. There's plenty of bars near Figure Eight—some of which you are sure caters specifically to the Camerons—but you don't question it. Lately, business has been slow, a couple of locals in and out, and with the majority of your income relying on tips, you take it.
Locals don't tip.
Rafe does, however. When he settled down and ordered the largest and most expensive liquor you had on hand, he slipped a fifty into your hands and asked for the bottle as a whole. You don't know if he doesn't have prior tipping etiquette—or because he tips extra for you to keep quiet about his presence—but you gladly take it. Sitting at the end of the counter, his hand cradles a half-empty glass he sips from.
Despite having the whole bottle set in front of him, he still makes you serve him.
Why?
Because he's an asshole.
"You know what he wants to do?" Rafe slurs from across the counter, his eyes flickering to find your presence behind the bar. "He wants to give the company to Sarah."
You hum in response, drying the washed glasses in your hands with a towel as you listen to his nondescript rambles. You knew most of the people he's referring to Sarah Cameron, Ward, and the occasional Pogue you don't know the name of. But, that's how Rafe sees the world: his family, the Kooks, and then everyone else.
"She's nineteen and going around OBX with her fucking Pogue boyfriend and he sees her as stable?" Rafe scoffs, shaking his head as he brings the edge of the glass to his lips and takes a long sip. "Fucking bitch."
Listening to drunk customers vent about their home lives is part of the job description. While it’s dark outside and Rafe is the only customer left, you are technically free to kick him out and make him go about his day elsewhere.
But, there's a rule in your family regarding business: don't go home until the last customer leaves. There's no such thing as kicking someone out at closing time; you were there to wait, serve, and hope they spend a couple more bucks on some more booze. It's a cheapshot of handling enterprise, but that's the way you need to do business and survive as a Pogue.
Rafe taps his empty cup in his hand, eyes pinned on you. "Refill," he mumbles, to which you resist the urge to roll your eyes, and walk over to do exactly as he asks. Lifting the bottle set in front of him to pour him another shot, he watches you as you watch.
"You think it's stupid, right?" He asks, his gaze lifting to study your face. "He thinks Sarah is more equipped to handle Cameron Development because of that Pogue. Because he ties her down. Is that some bullshit?"
His gaze is intense and you don't know whether to answer or not. While you don't know much of the story, of the background behind his persistent rambles, you pieced together enough that it's about Ward deciding to give Sarah the family company because of her stability as a person. Because she's reliable.
You shrug, "I don't know." Because you don't. You don't want to get involved in whatever problems Rafe is dealing with. You don't want to offer unsolicited opinions because who knows if it'll come back to bite you in the ass.
He scoffs, then releases a bitter laugh. "Of course you don't," he leans back against his seat, almost swaying against the backless stool, before shaking his head, disciplining himself. "You're a Pogue. I must be losing it if I'm talking to you."
You roll your eyes, turning away from the Kook and settling on the rest of your tasks. You're used to Kooks putting you down like that, seeing you as nothing more than the bottom of the chain because you don't have some fancy degree from UNC or because you aren't floating on a yacht somewhere.
Just as you're returning bottles back on the shelf, you hear Rafe mumbles to himself. "Does he want me to be tied down or something?"
You let out an abrupt laugh, before quickly stiffening the sound. However, it was too late. When you look back over, you see his blue eyes set on you, a hard expression on his face. "Sorry," you mumble, wishing you had better control over your tongue. "I thought I heard something funny."
You wished you could blame it on the TV, but unfortunately, you had turned that off a while ago.
"You laughing at me, sweetheart?"
"No," you clear your throat, but the look on Rafe's face makes it seem like he's in no mood to hear lies right now. You rectify the answer. "Yes."
"What's so funny?"
"The idea of you getting tied down," you answer slowly. You carefully study his expression to see if anything you say could trigger a bad reaction. "It just seems amusing to me."
Because it is. Rafe is known around Outer Banks as the reckless prince, the one who hosts parties, gets shit-faced drunk, and hooks up with every woman within his proximity. The idea of him losing all of that—the parties, the drinking, the women—was not something you could picture in your head.
"What about it?" He challenges, an edge to his tone. "You think I can't fucking do it?"
From your experience as a bartender, you know he's coming close to unraveling. What you say next could cause him to erupt or calm down, and while you would love to sell him some lies, to get him to back down and leave, something in you doesn't let it pass. All night, he's been nothing short of an asshole to you. To act like he's above you because you are nothing but a Pogue meant to serve him. Why would you pass up an opportunity to deliver some harsh reality?
"Look at yourself," you gesture to him, "you're here, drinking at my bar after an argument with your father. He's trying to tell you that you aren't dependable enough to rely on and the first thing you do is turn to your vices. What do you think?"
Even if you intended it to be harsh, you said it nicely.
He stares at you, hard. You don't like it. You heard the rumors of what happens when he gets pissed—where he throws chairs and smashed bottles. You don't want to be a recipient of that.
"Never mind," you shake your head, returning back to your task. "Just forget it. I'm misreading the situation."
"No," he says with a shake of his head. "You said it. Might as well own it with your chest. Dancing around it wouldn't make you anymore likable."
You clench your jaw. On top of being a blabbering drunk, Rafe is cruel.
Not answering him, you walk over to where he sits and take the glass from his hand, right as he's about to take another sip.
"What the fuck?"
"I think it's time for you to leave."
He scoffs, not moving from his position. "Just because I said I didn't like you?"
"No, because you're acting like an asshole and frankly, I don't want to put up with it anymore," you say, pouring the rest of the content down the sink. "You can take the bottle with you. But other than that, you need to leave."
Rafe stares at you for a few seconds, contemplating what to do, but he doesn't have any grounds here. He may be a Kook, but that means shit when he's in the south side of Outer Banks. When his opponent is a bartender. Instead of responding to you, he slides off the stool and grabs the booze by the handle.
Just as he's about to set out of the door, you shout behind him with a mock farewell, "'pleasure doing business with you!"
That day, you thought would be the last of your interactions with Rafe. After all, most people don't want to continue doing business with someone who calls them out on their bullshit and kicks them out of their shops.
But, a couple of days later, Rafe comes through the door of your family-owned pub.
You paid little attention to him. You were trying to log the tips into the cash register, not catering to some entitled prick who has no means being here. Plus, there's another bartender on hand who's more than willing to help Rafe with anything he needs.
You didn't care.
Your coworker can get his tips.
As you're filing in the last of the receipts, Miranda comes over to tap you on the shoulders.
"Rafe wants to talk to you."
You stare at her for a few seconds, as if she was speaking another language. You thought she did. Why in the world would he want to talk to you? You were unpleasant to him. You were nothing of the customer service attitude your parents drilled into you as a child. You thought it was clear grounds for him to look the other direction.
"I'm busy," you say to Miranda, who shifts uncomfortably in her stance, not leaving.
"He said he's willing to wait."
That means he was expecting you to say no.
You scoff. "Tell him I'm not going to be free until closing time."
"But..." Miranda starts again, and you are starting to lose your patience with her. "We don't have a closing time."
You smile at that. "Exactly."
Despite the harsh undertone, Miranda still relays the message back to Rafe. You watch as she does, his eyes briefly pans over to you as you offer him a forced smile with a wave of your fingers and his jaw visibly tense. You thought that would be the end of the conversation but, to be proven wrong again, he slides into the bar stool he previously occupied the other night and orders a drink.
Then another.
You did your best to avoid the area he occupied, but it was proven to be difficult as he spent his time right in front of you. You got busy, running around and assisting locals and tourists who came in to get a taste of the infamous and historical Sailor of Outer Banks. While you're running around, placing orders, making drinks, and trying to navigate the cramped space behind the bar—Rafe remains.
He remained until he was the very last customer.
You sigh as you glance at the clock. Miranda has since left and you're left carrying the shop ever since. All you want to do is go home and relax, but that will be proven impossible until Rafe leaves the establishment.
With a strong reluctance, you step forward to where Rafe sat, his eyes on the TV screen hung on the wall, while his hands occupied another glass.
"Fine," you sigh, causing Rafe to tear away from the screen. The corner of his lips lift into a self-satisfying smirk. "I'm here."
"You finally ready to talk to me?"
"You ready to stop being such a prick?" You quip back, just to see his expression broadens at your snark. You can't lie and say the movement didn't make him more attractive. "What do you want?"
For a moment, you thought he might be here to apologize for asking like an ass the other night.
But, you were too hopeful.
"I came up with a solution," he begins, his words a subtle slur that contrasts the intoxication of the other night.
"For what?" You entertain the conversation, crossing your arms over your chest.
"My dad." He answers. "He wants me to be stable."
"I remember."
"And from when he was talking about Sarah, one of the reasons he thinks he can rely on her is because she's with that Pogue." He explains, "that it somehow makes her dependable. I don't fucking know, the logic is flawed."
"And old-fashioned, but continue."
His blue eyes dart to your face, before he utters the next words. "That means I need a girlfriend."
You nod, glad to see that he came to his conclusion. You thought this was another one of his ramblings, a need to vent to someone he doesn't think matters in the long-run, just to get it off his chest. Now that it is, you're about to step back and turn around to start your night tasks before he holds out a hand.
"Wait," he commands, causing you to stop on your tracks. You raise a brow at him. "I want you to be my girlfriend."
You laugh. It truly is a bad habit of yours but the idea came out as total lunacy and shock. You thought he would join. But, when you look back to his face and have the striking realization that he is serious, you start to sober up. "You're serious."
"Yeah," he says, clenching his jaw, like the moment of wonderful ideas was truly something he was proud of and you struck it down like lightning.
"I'm sorry but," you shake your head, not having the ability to wrap your head around the suggestion. "You barely know me. Isn't there a line of other people who would love to become the next Mrs. Cameron?"
You know that's true. You also know if he had told Miranda this, she would've jumped to the idea before he concluded his brilliant plan. So, you can't, for the life of you, figure out why he's choosing you out of everyone else.
"Yes, but I don't want them." He answers with a shake of his head, leaning closer to the counter. You don't know why but something about that makes your chest warm. "I don't want a real girlfriend. I just need you to pretend to be."
Just like that, the feeling in your stomach dies.
"Pretend?" You repeat.
"Yes," he nods. "It's just like you said. I still have my vices. I don't want to give them up. I just want my dad to think I did."
"I still don't understand how this has anything to do with me," you furrow your brows together.
He sighs, out of frustration or impatience, you don't know. But, he goes to explain, "my dad once told me that John B was a reliable person. That he was a Pogue who was hard-working and determined. That's why he likes him for Sarah—because he hopes it would rub off on her too."
You nod slowly, connecting the dots as he continues. "You're a Pogue," he says with a huff, the title left his tongue with an ounce of disgust you were ready to throw him out of the bar again. "He likes to go on his good samaritan bullshit and employs people from The Cut for certain events. You were one of them."
It takes a second to remember what he was talking about. He's right. A couple of years ago, when you were eighteen, you got a catering job from the Camerons for some big business event. It was the most you made in your lifetime, from all the tips and drunk Kooks who wanted to give back to the poor.
But, he never employed you again.
"Do you see where I'm going now?"
You do, but you hate the attitude he's giving you. Like you were a Pogue who couldn't string together simple facts. Like you should've known what he's talking about.
"I do, but why the fuck you acting like I would've known the whole thing with John B?" You snap, and this surprises him for a moment. Taking a breath to cool the anger in your chest, you calm. "This doesn't explain why it has to be me."
His next statement comes off more nice. "My dad wants someone like that. I doubt he would approve of anyone else, and plus, I don't have to worry about you wanting something more. You clearly despise me."
That isn't true, but you do understand where he's coming from.
"So, let me get this straight." You start. "I'm basically an arm candy for you to parade around in front of your father while the rest of the time, you are free to drink and fuck whoever you want."
"I'm glad that Pogue brain of yours is catching up."
You glare at him, but say nothing else. Picking up the dirty rag off the counter, where you were planning on using to clean, you turn back to Rafe, "as much as I would love to play house with you, I don't have time. Unlike you, I have bills to pay and a job to do."
You turn your back to him but he stops you.
"I'll pay you."
You scoff. "It's not that," you say, because truly, it isn't. A few short-term payments for a couple of missed shifts isn't going to help you in the long-run. You're trying to revive Sailor, to make it a place where it can stand on its own. What is a couple of bucks going to do for that? "I'm sorry, but I don't have the time for it. You're going to have to find someone else."
"I don't want someone else."
He looks at you desperate, as if you would give in, and for a moment, you might. Perhaps it's because you're so used to helping others, or because you were raised to cater to people—to people like him—that your stomach cower at the thought of saying no. But, you have to stand firm on this. You don't have time to go out and party, much less spend your free-time parading around in his arms as some sort of trophy.
You were serious.
"I'm sorry, I truly am."
Your voice is filled with sympathy, and it softens him for a moment. But, that quickly passes as Rafe Cameron has to recoil with the idea that he didn't get what he wanted. Probably for the first time in his life.
With an annoyed huff, he slams the cash for the drinks he's been nursing and leaves.
You thought it would be the end of it.
Not knowing, by the end of this week, you will be known as Rafe's girlfriend.
— read part two —
i know you liked the post to be added to the "brother's rival" taglist, but i also didn't know if u wanted to be added to all my fics, so if u want to get off of this one, pls tell me! taglist: @k00k-princess / @ditzyzombiesblog / @itshellie / @realcolewrld / @grace-sully / @loveyouok / @tayrcse / @mysteris-things / @zzhhvgbhuuh / @ella131989 / @whore4fictionalman / @starrkissezz / @sanriobuny / @user123453226780536 / @onlinemold / @alyssax25 / @chopshopcheesecake / @bobo-bush
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corroded-hellfire · 5 months
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My gorgeous soulmate. The love of my life. I can’t stop thinking about Reader waiting for a ride and accidentally overhearing Eddie talking to the Hellfire guys about some beautiful girl and how he’s afraid to ask her out. Reader assumes it’s someone else and leaves because she’s upset and doesn’t want him to see her. Bonus points for wingman Dusty Bun, but not necessary. Okay love you byeeeeee xoxoxo @munson-blurbs 💚
Hello, my darling dearest. I hope you enjoy this and I love you too! 💕
Words: 1.5k
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Band practice ran late, but that didn’t matter one bit. Your older brother was always running behind to pick you up, leaving you the lone person sitting outside the school, waiting. Usually, you had a book with you, but you’d finished your last one and hadn’t gotten a chance to check a new one out of the library today. Honestly, the fierce autumn wind may have prevented you from reading anyway; the pages would be obeying Mother Nature, not you. The wind whistles and whips so viciously that you slide off of the brick wall you’re sitting on top of and seat yourself on the cold sidewalk, pressing as close to the wall as you can to avoid the harsh blowing.
Luckily, the gust eases up and you only end up having four leaves stuck to your clothing. As you’re picking them from your gray sweater, you hear the telltale squeak of the main doors of the school opening. Your brow creases in confusion because you didn’t realize anyone else was here this late. The dark evening has your mind floating back to the dozens of slasher movies you’ve seen that started with this very scenario. Taking care to be as quiet as possible, you tuck your legs up against your body as you hug your backpack to your chest.
“Damn Eddie, I’ve never heard you talk this way before.”
The voice is vaguely familiar. Nancy’s brother maybe? Right! He’s in Hellfire with Eddie Munson, who must be the Eddie he’s speaking to. An involuntary smile curls on your lips at the boy you’re head over heels for being just a few feet away. The closer they get, the easier it is for you to hear the thunk of the metalhead’s boots coming down the sidewalk. 
“Ugh, I know,” Eddie says, a hint of a whine in his happy-go-lucky voice. “But she’s so fuckin’ beautiful.”
The butterflies in your stomach sour, churning at hearing Eddie talk this way about some girl. He’s not doing anything wrong, and logically you know that. He doesn’t owe you anything. But irritation bubbles up in you as a defense from the heartbreak you’re desperately trying to run away from. Your fingers dig into your backpack as you squeeze your eyes closed to prevent the tears from leaking out.
“Ask her out!” That voice was Jeff’s—from your history class.
Eddie scoffs and you can just picture him shaking his head, his frizzy curls swaying back and forth. The thought of Eddie asking a girl out forces the hot tears to leak down your face, despite how tightly you’ve been keeping them closed. 
“Like she would want to go out with me,” he says. 
Now your heart also breaks for Eddie. Who could be so stupid as to not want to go out with him?
“Aww, I think you’re scared,” another voice goads. Probably the curly-haired boy that’s friends with the Wheeler boy. 
“I’m not scared,” Eddie says. “I’m just…afraid.”
“That’s the same thing!” Wheeler says before you hear a thump and the boy mutters an, “Ow!”
“Shut it, Wheeler. I don’t want to hear shit from you or Henderson on girls. Both of your girls live far away. Huh, kind of convenient, isn’t it?” Eddie asks. “They’re probably as real as the damn hair on top of Higgin’s head.”
“Hey!” Wheeler shouts.
“That’s bullshit!” the boy who must be Henderson shouts at the same time.
“You guys are letting him change the subject,” Jeff says. “When are you going to ask her out?”
Instead of giving an answer, you can hear Eddie grumbling under his breath the closer they get to you. It won’t be long now before they’ll walk past the wall and see you sitting on the ground. Waiting for a ride is easy enough to explain, but the tear tracks running down your face are a different matter. 
Before the group of guys can get any closer, you carefully push yourself onto your knees. Balancing yourself against the wall with one hand, you seek out somewhere you can hide. The corner of the wall is pretty far away, you’d never be able to crawl there fast enough. If you stand up though, you could walk that distance. Realizing crouching down so far is going to kill your back, you push up to your feet and keep your torso and head low as you speedwalk to the corner of the wall. 
Luckily, it’s just a grassy lawn on the other side of the wall, so you throw yourself down on it and catch your breath. Unluckily, you hear the piercing whine of your brother’s car pulling up towards Hawkins High. Fuck. Of course he comes now. 
You peek out from your safe space around the wall and see that Eddie and the rest of the Hellfire gang are climbing into Eddie’s van. A rush of breath leaves your lungs and you’re sure your adrenaline is about to come crashing down.
Your brother pulls up to the curb and you push yourself off of the grass and quickly slide into the passenger’s seat. 
“Uh, you okay?” your brother asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Fine,” you huff. “Just go.”
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Like the piece of gum you’d stepped in last week, the sharp pains in your heart stay with you much longer than you’d like. The next day, right before last period, you’re at your locker, switching out your books and hoping your eyes don’t look as puffy as they feel.
“Uh, hey.”
The voice makes you jump and drop your biology book. You don’t have to turn around to know who it is; you’d know that voice anywhere. It’s just never been so close to your ear before.
“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” Eddie says as he bends down to pick up your book. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No, it’s okay,” you manage to say as you turn around to face him. “Thank you,” you say as he gives you your science book back. 
Eddie clears his throat and glances over his shoulder before looking back at you—or rather, your shoes. Curious, you follow the line of sight where Eddie had just looked, and you see the curly-haired boy from Hellfire peeking around the corner. Henderson. As soon as he notices you looking, he pops back out of sight. 
“I, uh,” Eddie says as he finds the courage to meet your eye. “Hey.”
“You said that,” you say with a shy smile. “But then I freaked out, so…hi.”
The smile Eddie gives you isn’t his biggest by far, but it still makes your knees go wobbly. 
“You’re in band, right?” Eddie asks, reaching up and scratching the back of his neck. 
“I am.”
“Yeah. So, I was wondering if maybe after the game this Friday you might want to grab a bite to eat? With, um, me?”
The world freezes around you, time completely stopping. Your body is locked in place as you stare at Eddie with wide eyes. He just asked me out, you think. Why would he ask me out? He thinks that other girl is beauti—holy shit. I’m the beautiful girl he was talking about? This defies all that you thought you knew in the world. Is this a parallel universe where guys actually like you back? You realize you’ve just been staring at him since you spoke.
“Yeah. T-That sounds nice,” you say.
“Really?” Eddie’s eyes light up and your heart comes to a halt inside your chest.
“Yes,” you say with a small chuckle.
“Wow. Awesome. Okay, wow.” His disbelief shocks you. How in the hell was he afraid to ask you out? You’re just…you. He gives you a wider grin now before tugging up the sleeve of his leather jacket. “Do you have a pen?”
“Hmm? Oh, yeah!” You grab a pen from your locker and write down your number on Eddie’s pale skin, right below a colony of inked bats. 
“Great,” Eddie says as he pulls his sleeve back down. “Um, I’ll wait in the gym after the game?”
“Sure. It’ll only take me a few minutes to change and get everything put away.”
“Awesome,” Eddie says again, and seeing him acting this nervous just tickles you pink. You’re not sure you’ve ever heard him say “awesome” before and now he’s said it twice within the last minute. “I guess I’ll see you in English tomorrow.”
“Sounds good. Oh, Eddie, wait. You’re going to go to the game?” You raise your eyebrows in disbelief. “I thought you hated basketball.”
“Oh. Well, I do,” he says with a chuckle. “Easier to take you out after the game if I’m there, though. And, uh, you know, Sinclair’s been bugging me to come see him play.”
“Right,” you say. 
Eddie’s cheeks turn a light red as he gives you a bashful smile. 
“See you later, beautiful,” he says. He doesn’t give you time to even react to his words before he’s heading down the hall. 
“Holy shit,” you whisper to yourself. “I make Eddie nervous?”
A jovial giggle slips past your lips as you close your locker. You feel like you owe the Hellfire guys a thank you. 
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wonwoonlight · 5 months
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take a chance / jeon wonwoo
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Wonwoo x Reader // 1.7k words // nothing but fluff lol they're idiots
a/n: if you cant tell im absolutely insane abt this wonwoo. 100000% self indulgent and 100% not proofread as always ehe <3 v lowkey inspired also by niki - take a chance with me
He drives me crazy, it's so beyond me
How he'd look at me dead in the eye and stay unaware
Niki - Take A Chance with Me
[☆]
Wonwoo has never really been interested in romance.
When he was six and his friends started talking about girls were icky, he couldn't have cared enough to even think about girls in particular.
When he was fourteen and his close cousin who was practically his big brother told him about his first girlfriend, Wonwoo had simply nodded and congratulated him because the older guy looked like he was waiting for it even though he didn't get what's there to congratulate.
When he was seventeen and another cousin got married, he thought a little about what it'd be like to commit yourself for the rest of your life to another person.
Anyhow, now he's twenty seven and still pretty much free from the dating experience.
He just simply couldn't be bothered to try nor was he even curious enough to try.
There's too much risk. Too much things to do. Too many factors to think about. It's too complicated and Wonwoo has never been a fan of complicated.
Sure, the older he gets the more he understands about the attraction and whatnot. But the few dates that he has been on (which he could count with his two hands) was entirely due to his friends setting up with someone and his inability to say no the second time even though he did reject their so-called-help the first time around.
They eventually get the hint and stop setting Wonwoo up on a blind date.
He never sees romance as a necessity and he doesn't feel the need to have a partner, what is there more to say?
“I lost the floor 12 Abyss again.” You pout, half tempted to throw away the joystick in your hands. “I'm never playing this game again, I'm telling you.”
Wonwoo chuckles and tells you to move as he slides next to you, taking the joystick away and getting ready to restart your game.
“You just suck at this.” He teases, not minding your glare because he's way too used to it at this point. “And you say that everytime but here you are, still playing.”
“Shut up.” You pout, both impressed and unimpressed at the way he easily goes through the stages.
“Done.” He grins, all nine shining stars looking back at you.
“I hate you.”
“No, you don't.”
“I do!” You take back the joystick from him and close the window. “You don't even play this game! This is bullshit!”
He laughs under his breath and ruffles your hair, saying something about how he can't help being good at it.
You like that side of Wonwoo, as you often tell him, because people have always said that Wonwoo is quiet–that he doesn't talk a lot and it could be awkward being left alone with him.
And whilst it's not entirely untrue and you've been there too, you also know that Wonwoo is much more than his lack of words.
Wonwoo talks a lot once he's comfortable. You just need to be very patient and understanding about his silence before he gets there.
You… have been plenty patient, amongst other things.
You're patient enough to get where you are even though you've never imagined you'd get here.
Here, meaning being close enough with Wonwoo for him to be comfortable with you that he doesn't mind inviting you over to his place with no other companies.
Here, meaning being close enough with Wonwoo for him to not mind the fact that you like him and not act weird about it.
Here, meaning being close with Wonwoo despite the fact that you've confessed to him about your feelings but you're still here in his place, right next to him with not a single air of awkwardness between you two.
Turning off the Playstation, you settle on Wonwoo's sofa and decide to scroll through Instagram instead. You sigh, catching his attention, and when he asks you what's wrong, you simply shake your head no.
“What are you sighing about this time?”
This is something that people don't know about Wonwoo either: he prods when it comes to people he cares about.
Granted, he does it exactly three times to see if the other party would relent by then. He does that because that's how he is, he once tells you, because he rarely opens up at the first question but eventually cracks on the third time. That, by the third question, he's already had enough time to consider whether or not he really wants to talk about it.
“Nothing important.” You try to reassure him. “Just silly stuff.”
Wonwoo looks at you pointedly, but you simply smile and turn back to your phone, which he supposes means you don't feel like bringing it up just yet.
He closes his book and puts it on the coffee table, leaning closer to you to see what you're up to.
You wonder if Wonwoo knows what his action means to your poor, poor heart. If he's aware that, as much you said you're cool despite your confession, you still have romantic attractions towards him and confessing doesn't mean you're no longer affected by anything and everything he does.
After watching you go through your phone for a bit, it is quite easy for Wonwoo to realize what might be the core of your problem.
“You're thinking about why you're single again, aren't you?”
Your fingers freeze and so does your entire body, and Wonwoo would've laughed at how surprised you look right now, but he knows you're actually bothered by this problem from time to time though he doesn't exactly understand why.
And for someone who's observative and quite sensitive when it comes to things around him, Wonwoo can be a bit dense, still.
On what kind of universe does he think this topic would be okay to talk about with someone who literally confessed to you and somewhat got rejected though not explicitly?
“I don't want to talk about it.” You whine despite the fast beating of your heart. You honestly don't think you have it in you to talk about this with Wonwoo. At least not just yet.
“Why?”
You look at him, incredulous. “You know why.”
“Because you like me?”
You shrug, not wanting to deny it.
“Can I ask you something?” He asks, voice very gentle and careful.
“What?”
“I'm sorry if this sounds insensitive.” You press your lips together as he starts. At least, he has the conscience to know that. “But… what is it about being in a relationship that appeals so much to you?”
You pause before you answer, wondering what to say. “Do you want me to actually answer that?”
“If you don't mind answering.”
Wonwoo wonders if he makes you uncomfortable by asking such question. But if there's anyone he can ask about this, it can only be you. No one else would answer it in a way that he would understand. No one else would give him the sincerity that you'd give in your answer.
He feels bad knowing you like him and still asking you like this. But he supposes you're both close enough for that discussion, that he doesn't want to let your feelings get in the way of your precious friendship.
Perhaps he's selfish, but he doesn't want to be too conscious when it comes to your relationship with him despite everything.
“I guess it's just the fact that someone's always there for you.” You start, not looking at him even though his gaze is locked at you. “That there's this person who… you can tell everything to, from your secrets to what you feel like eating today. That when you want to do something, you can always run to them first before wondering if anyone else is available. That–”
“But that's already how we are?” He cuts you off.
You stare at him wide-eyed, wondering if it's some kind of prank even though you know he's not that kind of person.
“That's already what I do with you.” He says one more time–more firm and somewhat determined with a hint of confusion. “Why do you think you're in my place so often?”
“I… I– I don't know? You're… bored? And I happen to be free?” You stutter a little, not used to the way he's staring at you.
“I am bored.” He agrees, things suddenly crystal clear in his eyes. “But I'm bored because I don't have you around. And I want you here. That's why I asked all the time if you're available.”
You open your lips to say something–anything, but nothing comes out because your heartbeat is ringing throughout your body right up to your ears.
“You're the only person I send those posts about places I want to visit because I want to visit with you. I don't send them to anyone else. I don't even like going out all that much.”
“I… I don't understand?”
“Are we in a relationship?” He asks rather bluntly, mixing all your feelings together with one single question.
“Wonwoo, I don't think this is how you should go around it–”
“Have we been dating all this time?” He asks one more time, not even seemingly nervous about it.
He looks at you like he's expecting an answer, but how are you supposed to answer that? You've simply been happy that you get to spend time with him. You didn't think for one second that he might be into you despite all the time he asks you to accompany him somewhere and all the time you're alone in his place.
“I've been too oblivious, haven't I?” He concludes by himself, your silence doesn't deter him at all.
He reaches for your cheek, and if he notices how warm your face is, he doesn't mention it. But he caresses the apple of your cheek as he looks at you with the gentlest reflection you've ever seen in his eyes.
“I'm sorry it took me too long.” He whispers, and you bite your lip so hard to hide your smile because you don't want to be too happy before anything's decided. You're not sure what he's trying to say, your head is spinning with thoughts and your heart is beating at an erratic rhythm. “Do you mind… letting me learn a bit more?”
“About what?” You whisper back.
“Being a good boyfriend?” He smiles when you do too, feeling warmth all over his chest at how shy you seem to be. “You know I've never done this before, right? Let me take a chance with you?
You finally let yourself grin at this, no longer able to control the happiness blooming within you at whatever this might mean.
And as you lean your face more into his palm, Wonwoo thinks he's ready to take all the risks that might come together with whatever the future has in store as long as he has you by his side.
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jkslipppiercing · 3 months
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Never Been A Friend | Part 1 | Jeon Jk
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♧ synopsis: Sneaky glances across the room weighed with a dozen different meanings left to be unsaid; confusion, desire, lust. He was never a friend, was he?
♧ pairing: brother's bsf!jk, bratty!reader.
♧ warnings: y/n is too drunk to form a sentence, jungkook loves cursing, jungkook is jealous out of his mind, kinda enemies but not really, jungkook calls y/n a brat that he cant stand, someone calls y/n a slut, and that's all i can remember 😙
♧ WC: 1.6K
♧ a/n: hello loves! wrote this in one sitting and it's barely edited, but the intention is there lmao i love you all so much please enjoy! dont hesitate to tell me what you think <3 im like the no.1 supporter for constructive criticism lol okay thank you byeeeee
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JK's POV
She whines,
Throws tantrums,
Acts like a goddamn brat for the sake of being annoying,
And I still want her lips around my cock.
Why?
That goes beyond the fucking level of my emotional understanding.
I want her wrapped around my finger. I want her to get on her fucking knees and apologize for all the turbulent feelings she makes me suffer by.
She ruined my night.
I was fucking.
Blowing a girl's back just to lay off some steam. Get the stress of the college life off my shoulders.
But then, she just had to cock-block me.
My best friend’s sister.
Speaking of the twat, he dared to interrupt my one night stand for the sake of his bratty sister.
Usually, I love brats.
My type.
They make sex enjoyable. All the more pleasurable when they try to resist.
Keyword: try.
Because I know for a damn straight fact when a girl wants to be disciplined.
Fucked right and put in her place.
Reminds me of her. Y/L/N Y/N.
Except for one thing, though- she makes my fucking insides churn in all uncomfortable ways.
She doesn’t have a bratty attitude, the bitch has a bratty personality.
Yes, she is indeed a bitch. I can't stand a girl who's always annoying just because she feels like it. She'd never had a valid reason to hate me, and neither did I.
When I first met her, I mean.
She was laughing with her brother having breakfast one time when I came out of my room for painkillers and a glass of water.
Her brother and I were both freshmen in need of a dorm, and we agreed on splitting the rent once in a frat party.
Yes... we were both strangers to each other, but we clicked.
Met through mutuals, and our vibes matched. After living with each other for over six months now, we've grown pretty close.
He's cool, agreed on basic rules like who does the laundry or dishes, helped with assignments, and was always there when needed.
He's a friend. A close one.
A tolerable one.
That can't be said about a certain someone, though.
She scowled at me that day and later told me she didn't like my vibe when I confronted her about it.
Bullshit.
And yet, she's the reason I left a naked girl in my bed and came to this godforsaken club in the first place.
Her brother is here, too, which is why he called me to come pick her up. Said something about her being drunk, and since he had taken a shot or two as well, he couldn't take her home himself.
Or he just didn't want to, because he was also getting laid tonight.
That's proven to be right when I see him making out with a girl near the bathrooms.
His hands grope her all over as she arches into him, which is enough to make me look away.
Sly motherfucker.
Casting my vision toward the main dance floor, I scan the crowd for a short brunette with soft features.
Annoyingly soft features.
So soft that I want to corrupt her. Tear the bratty exterior and dig through the filthy dark side on the inside.
But those features aren't the only things that infuriate the hell out of me.
It's her innocence.
How can a brat be innocent, you may ask?
When my gaze lands on her, my jaw tenses in annoyance.
She sways her hips sensually, eyes closed and mouth open as she slides her hands down her body to a seductive beat following her movements.
I follow the action, eyes unable to tear away from her figure.
Her fingers skim over her neck down to her breasts and then further, the lightness she seems to be handling her body with attending to a grace she always breathed by.
Fuck, I hate this woman.
Hate everything about her.
How she moves.
How she walks.
How she fucking talks.
Runs her mouth like a brat who needs to be handled.
No- not like- is.
She is a brat.
A brat who's oblivious to all the eyes she's attracting.
Including mine.
Fuck.
Her dancing resumes as her eyes stay closed, feeling every beat.
She's enjoying herself.
Not for long.
I school my expression- which had turned into a scowl the moment I set my eyes on her- and begin my stride towards her.
I spot a man doing the same, but she's absolutely mind-numb as she continues to dance with her damn eyes closed.
I was irritated, but now I'm literally fed up.
He's a couple inches shorter than me, wearing a white tee and skinny ripped jeans.
Not to mention, his hair is slicked back by a disgusting amount of hair gel.
Ew.
He approaches Y/N with predatory eyes and a shit eating grin, his gaze set straight on her perky ass.
Which is just barely covered by the tight little dress she's wearing, inching higher and higher up her thighs as we speak.
My steps quicken when I see him reach out, apparently intending to slap her ass.
My blood boils.
White noise drowns out all available access to the outside world as I break out into a jog and reach her just in time.
My hand swiftly slides onto her tiny waist, and I glare at the man whose shit-eating grin is now gone, replaced with confusion.
Y/N's eyes stay closed as she giggles, and it's now I notice how drunk she is.
Bright crimson tints her cheeks and her breath smells of strong tequila, obviously from having taken too many shots.
Isn't she here with friends?
How could they leave her alone like this?
Her brother's here. Her brother is here.
My breath turns heavy, my heartbeat quickening. I have to stop myself from punching the douchebag in front of me into fucking oblivion because I don't know if i'll ever stop once I start.
Fuck.
I try to focus on anything besides her frame that's barely hanging onto me, all the exhaustion from her dancing catching up to her as she fights to keep her eyes open.
Why the fuck is she here all alone? Why did they- whoever she's here with, except her brother- leave her here like this?
Like she's not even aware of where she is.
Like she's not sober enough to be responsible.
Like she's not fucking strong enough to defend herself if anything happened to her.
I might punch a wall.
My grip tightens around her waist, which makes her drowsily lift her head to stare up at me.
She's still shorter than me with heels on, enough to put her neck in an uncomfortable position whenever she looks up at me.
It's adorable.
But that's none of my concerns as the slimy fuck keeps undressing her with his eyes. Makes me want to claw them out with my bare hands.
Repress.
"Wha..." She starts, growing more and more confused as she tries to wrap her head around where the hell she is. "Jungkook? What are you..."
She trails off into a mindfuck, allowing me to set my full focus on the man still staring between us with wariness.
My gaze hasn't worn off him since I saw him fucking reach for her ass, which makes me want to bash his head against the wall.
My breathing turns heavy again.
Repress.
"Off-limits." I bite out with enough to control to shock myself. I'm even more surprised that this motherfucker is still breathing.
His eyes thin into slits as he eyes me suspiciously. "I haven't seen you here the last couple of hours. Thought her sexy ass came alone." His eyes skim over her body, gaze lingering longer than necessary on her breasts.
Guess someone's leaving with no limbs tonight.
"You thought wrong." It takes almost all the last bits of my control to reply with that before I start turning around to leave, Y/N almost falling asleep on my arm.
She clutches the hem of my shirt with a weak grip, like a toddler would its mom.
If I couldn't get here in time, what would've happened?
I catch myself before I overthink it. If I did, I'm afraid I might commit a crime tonight. One of shameless blood and murder-
Repress.
My back is turned to him when I hear a low whistle, which makes me pause, angry enough for my limbs to shake with adrenaline.
"You know, It's often rare for a slut with such a sweet ass to be out here all alone wearing that. Almost like she's begging for a cock-"
The words are barely out of his mouth before my fist connects with his face. The force of my blow got him on the floor, nose fucked and bleeding. Might be broken.
Good. Bare minimum.
I almost straddle him and punch him to his fucking fortunate death.
Almost.
But I have to get Y/N home.
I can't stand this anymore.
I can't stand her anymore.
Coming here alone? Dressed like that?
I mean yes, she did come here with her idiot brother who thinks with his dick, but he's nowhere to be found.
How can someone be so nonchalant to just leave his sister here all alone?
I'm so goddamn confused.
And infuriated.
And...angry.
Fucking fuck.
I need to get her the fuck out of here before i lose my fucking mind.
Fuck me.
The punch I just delivered did little to satiate my thirst for this slimy fucker's blood.
But again, Y/N's more important.
I turn, my panic spiking so high it reaches levels it had never before when I find Y/N out of my sight.
My breathing starts to go abnormal for the nth time this night.
I might develop heart problems.
A sigh leaves my mouth when I spot her by the bars, trying to convince the bartender to give her another shot. Relief floods my system, and my breaths regulate.
I send a quick text the girl- who i already forgot the name of- and tell her to head home. She sends a crying emoji back but agrees nonetheless, telling me to call her back when everything is sorted out on my end.
I have other things to care for.
Or I guess, in this case, a certain person to tend to.
God, It's gonna be a long night.
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marvellous1917 · 9 months
Text
Icarus Falling
(Part 2)
Pairing: mob!Bucky x female!tattoo artist!reader
Summary: It’s gonna be a busy day. Giving a tattoo to a mobster that broke into your home was nothing compared to the fact that you can’t stop thing about how fucking hot he is.
Warnings: lots and lots of swearing, mention of crime (duh), fights, broken bones, tattoo needles, threats, think that’s it.
Part one ⬇️:
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A/N: AAHHHH the response to part one was actually insane!!!! I hope this second part is good enough. Love u all <3
———————
Bold is reader’s thoughts.
Italics is Bucky’s thoughts.
The size of the tattoo is in inches.
———————
Walking to the shop, your thoughts were running a mile a minute. Holy fuck, what the fuck, did last night actually happen?, James Barnes is gorgeous and made falling asleep last night really fucking difficult, screw him for making me all hot and bothered. Asshole. But one persistent one came screaming to the front- how the fuck am I supposed to tell Frank?
Unfortunately there was not a lot of time to come up with an answer to that, the shopfront coming into view as you turn the corner. Jigsaw Ink stood proud in the middle of the busy Brooklyn street, the black paint of the walls in stark contrast to the pastel pink of the florists’ to one side and the baby blue of the cafe the other.
The shop was a second home to you, the couch at the front becoming a bed for you sometimes after a night out, or if Caleb was being an ass. Frank was nice enough to let you crash when you needed, trusting you with his business. Frank, and the other two artists at the shop, Billy and Curtis were like family - a weird combination of protective older brothers and best friends who were terribly bad influences on you.
The bell on the door rang when you opened it and there was a yelled “Y/N? That you?” from a deep voice at the back of the room.
“Yeah Frankie, it’s me. I thought Billy was supposed to be here, not you?” You yelled back, moving behind the counter toward your station, dropping your bag and taking off your jacket.
“He was, but he managed to get his ass knocked out last night so he’s taking the day off,” Frank replied laughing, walking out from the back towards you.
“What? Is he ok?” You ask, giving Frank a hug when he got closer.
“Managed to piss somebody off at a bar, not really sure what happened, but he’s fine. Just stupid,” he replied, patting your back as you release him.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love the guy but he is an idiot I swear, you can guarantee it was his fault as well,” you say.
Frank chuckle and nods as a response, “yeah I bet. Hey , you got many appointments today?” He asks.
Shit. How the fuck am I supposed to tell Frank Castle - literally the most protective man on earth - that I had to move all of my appointments to next week because a damn mobster broke into my house and demanded I gave him a tattoo today.
“…uh. No just the one, I had to move the rest,” you answer, praying to whoever was listening that Frank wouldn’t ask any questions.
“Why’s that?”
Fuucckkkk.
“Umm..no reason really..” your mind went completely blank, the only thing running through you head were those goddamn blue eyes.
“Kid, what’s going on?” Franks’ eyes narrowing, seeing straight through your bullshit response.
Ughhh. Change the subject right now. “Y’know you call me kid all the time, you’re not that much older than me Frankie. I mean there’s only-”.
“You’re ramblin’ kid. The fuck is going on?” He says, all sense of humor him from his voice.
Ah, there his is, protective Frankie coming in full force.
“Shit. Ok so here’s what happened-” you tell him the full story, coming home from work to see a dangerous criminal chilling in your apartment, the fear that came with that lovely surprise, Caleb’s debt, the weird philosophical conversation, the tattoo talk. All of it.
Of course, excluding the part where you found yourself extremely attracted to the fucking mobster, his weirdly slightly comforting presence, and the fact that the memory of those blue eyes where all you could see as your hand slipped between your legs before you fell asleep.
To be fair to the man, Frank listened to every word you had to say, not interrupting one. But you could see on his face every single emotion he was feeling, the main one being just straight up confusion.
“Lemme get this straight. The fucking Winter Soldier broke into your house last night and is coming in for a tattoo in..” he checked his watch as he spoke, “..an hour?”
“..yeah.” Hit the nail on the head there Frankie.
“Shit.” He says, rubbing his hand over his face in an act of desperation.
“Yep.” You say, patting his arm to try and reassure him.
“Alright, I’m gonna be here the whole time, don’t you worry about that kid. You’re gonna be fine.” He assures you, obviously worried about you.
“I know that Frankie, and if it’s any consolation, he didn’t seem all that bad.” You answer.
“Not that bad?!” He almost shouts, and incredulous look on his face, “Y/N he’s a fucking gangster. He’s fucking danger-“
“FRANK!” You yell, the only way to cut off his tirade before it starts. “I know that, but last night he didn’t do anything bad,okay, and if he wanted to hurt me, he definitely would have done it by now. I’ll be fine Frank, I’ll just give him the tattoo and that will be it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I gotta set everything up.” You say, moving back to your station, beginning to grab everything you need.
“Holy fuck kid, how are you not freaking the fuck out right now?” He whisper shouts, running one hand up and down his head.
“I’m not sure. I think…I think I trust him not to hurt me. It’s weird, but my gut’s telling me I’ll be fine.” You answer, starting to print some different sized stencils.
“Kid your brain is brok-” Frank starts to say but he’s cut off by his phone ringing. He pulls it from his pocket and says “Shit, it’s my kids’ school, I gotta take it.”
You wave him off, Frank answers the phone with a sigh.
He walks off to the back of the shop, leaving you to finish setting up your station. Frank talks for a minute and wander back towards you.
“My girl got into a fight at school, Maria’s busy at work so I’ve got to go get her,” he says, dragging his hands down his face, in a way only an exasperated father could.
“Oh my god is she ok?” You ask.
“She’s fine, but apparently she broke some little shitheads nose for picking on her friends,”
“Like father, like daughter then,” you respond with a laugh.
“Can the people I care about stop getting themselves in dangerous situations for like five goddamn seconds.” Frank says, throwing a pointed glare your way.
“Frankie, how many times, I’m gonna be fine alright, go get your kid and -I dunno- take her out for ice cream, tell her she did good.” You say, pushing him to the door.
“Only if you’re one hundred percent certain you’ll be fine.” He says, already pulling his jacket from the hook.
“I’m good I swear, now go!”
“Ok ok I’m going, stop pushing me” he says, leaving the shop and letting the door fall closed behind him, the bell ringing as it did.
Only a minute passed before your phone pinged with a text.
James:
Have you already forgotten about me that quickly doll?
Send me the address to the shop
Now… please
Fuck me. Why does just his text give me fucking butterflies. Ugh. How irritating.
You send him the address and his response is cheeky as shit.
James:
See you at 1 doll, you better be wearing something pretty for me.
Little shit.
————
You had the music in the shop bumping, using it to help calm your pounding heart, adrenaline starting to get the best of you. Your favourite song came over the speakers so you turned it up and started to dance a little, knowing that you had at least 10 minutes before Barnes turned up. Unfortunately this action caused you to miss the ringing of the bell on the door.
Holy shit - ink and a show, today is going better than expected already.
Bucky slowly let the door close, trying not to disturb the dancing girl he couldn’t get out of his head. He lent against the wall, just watching and waiting…and staring.
Shaking out your hands to get rid of any nerves, you turn and nearly scream when you see Barnes stood at the door.
“Oh god, sorry I didn’t hear you come in,” you say, subtly looking him up and down and damn he looks good. Ever the powerful mobster, he wore a black suit, his black shirt had no tie and was unbuttoned at the top. His hair was slicked back from his face, opposite to how it was the night before. This was the other side of him, the business man - James Barnes: the face of multiple charities, the man that law enforcement could never seem to put behind bars. Last night you met the threat, the assassin, and you may be one of the first in his history to survive a meeting with the Soldier.
“No problem doll, I was enjoying the show,” he says, pushing off of the wall and stalking towards you.
Oh my god, “oh..ok, well I have everything set up and ready so if you’re ok to start I say let get going,” you respond, turning to the part of the shop where your station was, nerves flooding back, wanting to get this over as soon as possible.
“Damn girl, not even any small talk?” He asks, slowly following you to the table.
“Oh sorry, I would have asked how your day has been so far, but I didn’t want you to think I was prying into your business. I wouldn’t want you to think I was being disrespectful ab-”
“Ramblin’ again doll, thought I told you that you don’t need to be afraid of me,” he said softly, sounding genuine. “I know what people say about me, I understand why you would be nervous, but I just ask you to not believe everything you hear, ok doll? I’m not who they say I am.” His tone was gentle, almost tired but still pleading, hoping you believe him.
“So you’re not a mobster?” You ask, voice low and calm.
“Oh no I am,” he responds with a small laugh, “I am, and I do what gangsters do. But I am not the ruthless animal I’m made out to be, doll I’m just not. I do what needs to be done.”
His voice breaks slightly on the pet name. His tone is so sincere and tired. Oh my..he’s telling the truth. It actually affects him to hear that about himself.
“Ok,” you respond, siting on your stool next to your station and the table, looking up at him with no fear in your eyes, trusting his words.
“Ok? That’s your response?” He asks, moving around the table to sit on it directly in-front of you.
“Yeah. What did you want me to do Barnes, not believe you?” You ask, all fear gone from your voice.
“Of course not,” he says, confusion laced in his voice, his eyebrows furrowed, “but I wasn’t expecting you to believe me immediately, shit you were scared of me like a minute ago.”
“I know but I think I trust you? You haven’t done anything to me, y’know other than breaking into my apartment. I trust you when you say you’re not someone I should be afraid of.” You answer truthfully.
“…good.” He says, at a loss of what to say next.
“Good. So, Barnes, are we doing this or what?” You ask.
“Yeah let’s do it doll, and please, call me Bucky.” He responds, shrugging off his jacket, folding it and placing it on the head of the table. You had to make a conscious effort to not stare at the way his arms filled out his shirt, but damn it was hard. He sat silently waiting for you to talk.
“Ok..Bucky.. tell me about what size and what placement you want for this.” You say, “I printed some sizes out because I wasn’t sure what size you wanted, and I can reprint or adjust it based in what you want.”
“Oh you a real professional, huh? Not gonna lie to you doll, that serious voice is kinda getting me goin’” he says, smirk on his face, leaning back on his arms, lifting his hips and moving slightly on the table.
Fuck me, what is this man doing to me? He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he’s talking again.
“I want to get it on my forearm, the inside, and I think that size looks good,” he says, pointing to the 10x8 you printed.
“Ok that sounds good, which arm were you thinking?”
Silence. He stares down at you, an unreadable look on his face. You break eye contact and then freeze.
Shit. Shit. You dumbass. Which arm? Which fucking arm? Are you kidding? I can literally see his metal fucking hand. Oh dear god.
The silence between you goes on for entirely too long. You’re not sure whether you should apologise or wait for him to speak first. You weren’t sure if he would be offended, having a reminder of his injury.
He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, just continues to stare down at you, that blank look on his face. Looking back up at him, you start to apologise but the words get caught in your throat. His eyes. He couldn’t control them the same way he did his face, tons of different emotions flowing through them, none lasting long enough for you to understand before another one took its place.
If only you knew what he was actually thinking. She asked which arm. She knows about my arm, everyone does, but she still asked. She forgot. The arm is all people see, a weapon, an instrument used to inflict nothing but pain. It’s all people see, but she forgot. That’s not what she sees. Maybe…maybe she just sees me.
He’s shuts his racing thoughts down, fully aware of how awkward the silence was becoming. “I’m thinking my right arm might be a little easier for you doll,” he says, an amused look crossing his face, his tongue poking his cheek.
You open your mouth to apologise for your mistake but he holds up his right hand and says, “and please, you don’t have to apologise like I know you’re going to, we’re all good darlin’.”.
He’s gotta stop with the pet names before I melt.
“Ok, uh, are you sure, because I honestly meant no disrespect or anything. I-,” you start, but Bucky cut you off quickly.
“Darlin’, what did I just say?” A stern tone coats his words and goddamn does it send a shiver down your spine. You internally roll your eyes and look away, back to your station, when you feel two warm fingers on your jaw, turning your head back to looks at him. Holy fuck. He places his thumb on the other side of your jaw, forcing you to keep looking at him as he leans in closer. His voice was low when he said, “That wasn’t a rhetorical question, Y/N, what did I just say?”
Jesus fucking wept. Somehow his use of your name made your heart pound, and the fact that his hand was so warm and strong holding onto your face.
“You said we’re all good..” you answer trailing off at the end of your sentence. His eyes don’t move from yours for a second.
“And?” He asks, tilting his head slightly.
Christ alive.
“I don’t have to apologise..” you say, eyes flicking between his and falling to his lips for a second and then back to his eyes.
“That’s right darlin’,” his eyes dropped to your lips, his tongue darting out to wet his lip. “So stop, okay?” He says, lifting your chin to catch your eye.
“Yes sir.” It’s an automatic response but you can’t help but be a little proud of yourself when he lets out a small throaty growl at the name.
“Careful doll.” He responds, letting go and leaning back, “How about we get started before I do something you regret, hmm?”
Like I could regret you.
You turn back to your station to try and clear your head of all the dirty thoughts running wild. “Ok.. Bucky, if you could roll up your sleeve so I can wipe the area, I’ll place the stencil and you can check if it’s where you want it to be.” You say, not used to the name he said to call him by.
“Mhm,” he hums, releasing the cuff link on his right sleeve, his prosthetic catching the glare of the light above, the plates shining. He places the cuff link in the pocket of his jacket and begins rolling up his sleeve and folds it at his elbow.
You clean the area and place the stencil straight on his arm, and peel it off.
“There’s a mirror on the wall over there, you can check if it’s alright.” You say.
“Okie dokie doll,” he responded the furrowed his brows, like he was confused at why he said that, not very gangster of him.
I like him. He says okie dokie.
“Looks good there darlin’, and as much as I hate to say it, we gotta speed this up a little, I’m expecting a call at some point around 2:30 and I’d prefer you not have to hear it.” He says, coming back to the table, sitting down and swinging his legs up onto it.
You take his arm, putting it on the rest in a position easiest for tattooing while saying “Why’s that? Would you have to kill me if I overheard your call?” You ask, enough humor in your voice for him to know you’re joking.
“Probably, depends how much you hear.” He said, completely deadpan. He looks at you and you have the strangest feeling that he actually wouldn’t hurt you either way.
“Shit ok. Is that position comfortable for you?”
“I’m all good darlin’, let’s go,” he says, adjusting his position on the table slightly. His left arm rests across his stomach as he sits on the table, leaning against the backrest, his ankles crossed.
“Ok I’m gonna do a small line so you know how it feels,” you look at him and he nods. You draw a line about 2 centimetres long then stop, “how’s that?” You ask.
“Ain’t nothin’ doll, keep goin’.” He responds.
“Ok here we go.” You say, getting back to it.
————
You’ve been tattooing for about 40 minutes, and there hasn’t been a word spoken between the both of you. His arm kept flexing whenever you moved away, and he kept clenching his jaw, like he was in pain but was refusing to admit it, even to himself.
“Are you ok? We can stop for five if you want a break? I’ve just finished the outline so I’ve got to change needles anyway.” You ask, disrupting the silence between you, moving the machine away from his arm so you can switch to a higher grouping for the blackwork.
“I’m fine Y/N, how much longer do you think it’ll take?” He asks, moving his head to look at the outline that you had completed.
“Oh it’s hard to say, but probably another 30 at least,” you respond, looking at him while he was admiring the tattoo so far.
God he’s pretty.
“Shit.” He says, rubbing his forehead with his other hand.
“Are you worried about your call?” You ask calmly.
“Not worried about the call itself… just having to do it here may cause some issues.” He responds, lowering his hand to his thigh.
“Because I’m here? I can go to a different room if you want?” You say, placing the machine back on your station, and turning to look at him fully.
“It’s ok doll, to be honest with you, nothing that needs to be said will make any sense to you anyway, and I mean that in the least offensive way possible.” He says, looking at you with apologetic face, tilting his head slightly. “But depending on the news I get, I wouldn’t want my reaction to… scare you.”
“Oh.. well I guess we’ll see when your call comes.” You answer, unsure of how to react to that.
————
The sharp ringing of his phone interrupts the sounds of the machine. You move the machine away from him, turning it off so he could speak freely without noise.
“I really am sorry about this darlin’, but it’s important-”
“Answer it then, it’s fine Bucky.” You cut him off, concerned he was going to miss it if he kept talking.
He gave you another apologetic look, and then turned his back to you to get off the table and answer the call.
You sat in silence as he started to speak.
“Rogers, what did ya find?” His voice changes from how he speaks to you, deeper and more serious.
The person on the other line speaks for a moment before Bucky responds, “we already knew that, didn’t we? What new information did you find?”
Silence.
“Of course he is..,” there is anger in his tone now, “get someone to tell the asshole he can threaten what he likes, I’m not sitting down with him.”
A moment goes by and you think that may have been the end of it, until you see his shoulders tense and-
“FUCK NO!” He shouts, making you jump a little.
“No Rumlow Gets Nothing, I don’t give a shit what he’s doing… Then send the commissioner a goddam gift basket Steve, some portraits of his family would be nice, remind him why he pays us the fucking protection fee.” He seethes at the man down the phone.
This should not be turning me on, shit.
“For fucks sake… Walker is nothing Steve, just some fucking Nazi junkie with a rich daddy, trying to get his hands on my shit…get Nat to bring his ass in, I’ll deal with it Steve… I said I’d deal with it.”
His tone on the last sentence sends a shiver down your spine, what the fuck does ‘deal with it’ mean?
“Ah shit is he ok?” Bucky asks, tone soft now, caring even, “Damn, he’s gonna be out for blood now.. good for him.. give Clint the week off, find the guys and give the pricks to him, let him get out some of his pent up craziness out.”
Oh Clint sounds fun.
“Ok, alright I gotta go now man. Yeah I’m at the shop… nah it’s nothing..yeah ya did… ok fuck off now.. later man.”
He hangs up the phone, takes a death breath and pinches the place between his eyebrows, his other hand going to his hip. He stands like that before he turns back to you, with a small awkward smile. That was cute.
“Sorry about that doll, hope I didn’t upset ya,” he says, walking around the table and looking down at you.
“You didn’t. I gotta ask though, is your friend or whoever ok?” You ask, not bringing up the start of the call where the man in-front of you all but admitted to a multitude of crimes - blackmail, extortion, supplying drugs. He sounded different- genuine when he asked if the man was ok. It was sweet.
“Clint? Yeah no he’s fine, got jumped last night so he’s pissed about it, but he’s ok, worst thing he got were some nasty bruises and a broken finger.” Bucky responds, confusion on his face, wondering why you care.
“How did he break a finger?” you ask, moving backwards as he sits back on the table.
“Oh he didn’t go down without a fight, clocked one of them on his way out,” he says with a small chuckle.
“Ah, good for crazy Clint,” you say with a smile.
Bucky let’s out a sharp quick laugh, “that exactly what I thought doll,” he says, leaning back and putting his arm on the rest, “ready when you are.” He adds.
Ok right back to it. Got it boss.
“Ok, should only be about 10 more minutes.” You say.
“Alright doll.” He answers, leaning his head back on the rest, tilting his head so he could watch you.
Ten minutes later you were finished, putting your machine down for the final time.
“Okie dokie, I’m all done. Have a look in the mirror, see what ya think,” you say, hoping he liked it, not much you could do about it if he didn’t.
He moves over to the mirror, checking out his new ink, twisting his arm around to see it fully. He’s silent for a little while before he says, “fuck doll, you’re a damn artist.”
“Does that mean you like it?” You ask, failing to hide the hope in your voice.
“I love it. Couldn’t have asked for a better one for my first piece.” He says, walking forwards to stand in-front of you, letting you wrap the fresh tattoo, handing him a leaflet on aftercare as you talk.
“You’re shitting me,” you say, “was that seriously your first one?”
“Yeah, why are you so surprised darlin?” He responds, tilting his head.
“I don’t know, just sorta thought you’d have them all over.” You answer.
“All over, huh. You been thinking about me naked doll?” He says with a cheeky grin, talking half a step closer to you.
Shit.
“What, n-no of course not, why would I do that. I mean I’m sure you look good - uh fine.. naked but I don’t-” you cut yourself off before you embarrass yourself anymore.
“No, no ramble on Y/N please, I’m really enjoying watching you try to figure your way out of the grave you’re digging right now,” he says, chucking lightly.
“Shut up Bucky, leave me alone” you responds, looking down at your feet.
“Hey,” he grabs your chin, again, and add pressure until you’re looking up at his eyes, “don’t ever try and tell me what to do, darlin, I don’t tend to respond well to it. I won’t ‘shut up’ and I’ll never ‘leave you alone’… I like ya too much for that.” He says, sounding like a mix between a threat and a compliment.
“Uh.. okay.” You answer, not sure how to respond to his words.
He can tell that you don’t know what to say, so he mercifully breaks the silence. “I love the tattoo doll, it’s looks amazing. You’ve got a talent Y/N.” He drops his hand from your chin as he speaks.
“Thank you, Bucky. It means a lot.” You answer sincerely.
“How much do I owe you sweetheart?” He asks, reaching into his jacket for his wallet.
That’s a new one.
“Uh, say $180?” You respond.
“$180? Damn you gotta charge more than that doll,” he says pulling some bills from his wallet.
He hands you the bills and says “now that’s for today and it should cover next time too, take half for now and half for then.”
You’re stunned by the fact that he’s already planning for next time but your jaw actually drops when you look at the bills.
They were hundreds.
“Woah I think you gave me the wrong bills,” you say, trying to push the bills back in his hands.
“No I didn’t, I know what I gave you. $180 for today, say $200 for next time and the rest is tip.” He answers smoothly, folding your hand back over the bills.
You look down to count and start shaking your head, “I can’t accept this, it’s way too much.”
“Consider it a thank you for dealing with the inconvenience of me having to do business in the middle of the appointment.” He says with a smile.
“Bucky this is 2000 dollars.”
“I know.” He puts up his hand again, stopping you from talking, “I’m not taking it back doll, just have it will ya?” He says, rolling his sleeve back down, doing the cuff back up with the cufflink and placing his jacket back on.
“Oh my god, you’re serious aren’t you?” You ask, unbelievable he wanted you to have over fifteen hundred dollars as tip.
“Yes I am.” He answers, straightening his jacket, “it also may be a small bribe.”
There it is.
“A bribe for what?” You ask, expecting his to ask you to keep quiet about his call.
“I want you to be my artist, anytime I want a tattoo, I want you doing it for me.” He says, smiling down at you with a hint of…something him his eye.
“Really?” You ask in shock, not expecting that from him.
“Yeah, like I said earlier, you got talent. I want more of you on me.” Bucky says smirking at the euphemism he made.
Fuck me running.
“Oh..shit.. yeah ok, that sounds..,” you swallow heavily, “sounds like a plan.” You smile up at him, trying to hide the way his words affected you.
He smiles back, stepping closer and closer until his chest is almost touching yours.
“Yes it’s does. You’re mine now doll,” he says, a dark look in his eye. You swallow hard again and your breath stutters at his words, eyes going straight to the floor. He notices your reaction and smirks, “my artist, I mean.” He continued.
“Although, judging by your little reaction there, I’d bet you be ok with that, wouldn’t you doll?” He says, his tone slightly mocking.
You say nothing.
He hums, then places his right hand on your cheek and tilts your head so you’re looking him in the eye again.
“Would you?” He asks softly.
“Maybe,” you whisper, a cocky smile breaking out on his face.
“Maybe, huh? ‘Mkay, guess I’ll just have to convince you then doll.” He says back, leaning closer, eyes going to your lips before he looks back up, giving you a chance to get out of the situation.
“Guess so.” You respond, some confidence back in your voice.
He hums again, and then he’s kissing you. His kiss is forceful but somehow still gentle, like he’s holding back as much as he can.
Fucking finally you can’t help but think as you move your hand to his wrist, the other one going to his left bicep, the feel of the solid metal under your hand was new, but not unwelcome.
His metal hand moves, wrapping around your back and pulling you against him, deepening the kiss when you gasp.
Reluctantly, you break the kiss when you run out of air. He leans back, the pressure on your back relieving a bit.
“Damn doll, what the fuck are you doing to me?” He asks, biting his bottom lip.
“Something good, hopefully.” You respond cheekily.
He groans, leaning his head back. “Yeah hopefully darlin’. I hate to say it sweetheart but I gotta get going.” He says, releasing his hold on you. He moves towards the door and for a second you think he going to leave without another word, until he turns back and says “I’ll talk to you later doll, keep your phone on or I’ll drop by.” He finished his sentence with a wink, and then he’s gone, the bell on the door ringing behind him.
Fuucckk. Maybe I’ll break my phone so he has to come by. Who knew the fucking Winter Soldier was actually a gorgeous softie under it all.
————
A/N: Ta da! Finally complete!! Love everyone of you that read this, mwah 😘
I can’t tag anyone else on this post so I will tag the rest in a separate post.
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catsgut · 6 months
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FROM BUD TO BLOOM - GOJO
warning : incest, drugging, noncon
“we know you just turned 18, but we were your age once, you know. even if it was years and years ago,” you rolled your eyes and groaned, falling onto the couch. “we just know how kids your age think,” your dad said backing your mom up. they were leaving for a week for work and just broke the news to you that you wouldn’t be staying at your house alone. part of you could understand where they were coming from, but you had just turned 18. it was bullshit they didn’t trust you enough to not throw a party.
but somehow, someway, they trusted your immature and spontaneous uncle to hold the fort down while they were gone. you weren’t really close with uncle satoru, so it didn’t bother you any that he would be there, it was the lack of trust your parents had for you. it was almost insulting.
a loud knock on the thick wood of your front door brought you out of your thoughts. speak of the devil. “toru!” your dads voice boomed at the sight of his older brother, arms wrapping around his shoulders to pat on his back. “hey,” you heard a smooth voice follow before the sound of shoes on the floor. “good to see you again,” gojo said to your mom with a bow and his signature smile. you sat up and peered over at the three older adults in the entrance hall, looking over the man you rarely ever saw. you were surprised he even answered to the text your dad shot him about the favor they had needed. gojo’s predatory eyes wandered over to where you were sitting on the couch and smirked.
“hello, angel,” he spoke eyeing every inch you down as if he could see what you were thinking. “your babysitter has arrived!” his long legs brought him to stand over you, head leaning forward to get a good look at your face. it had been so long since he had seen his pretty little niece. you sighed, closing your eyes you laid back down ignoring the annoying comment, still feeling hurt by the lack of trust your parents had for you. “aw not happy to see your uncle, little girl?” he chuckled and looked back over to your parents. “you nothing to fear! i’ll make sure everything goes… smoothly.” they just nervously looked at one another before putting their bags in the car.
they said their goodbyes and you hugged your mom tight. “it’s not too late to tell him to leave,” you mumbled into her shoulder before she flicked your forehead. “nonsense. now be good for satoru,” she said before kissing your cheek. “we will be back in a week.”
honestly, the first few days went by fine. you hadn’t spoke to gojo much and just hid up in your bedroom playing computer games. he actually wasn’t so bad, usually watching tv, cooking something, or laying out by the pool. the one thing you did notice about uncle satoru was that he liked the ac on full blast. colder than what your parents usually keep it at. several times he has pointed out your clearly hard nipples through the thin fabric of your pajama shirt. “you cold?” he’d ask with a grin and you crossed your arms over your chest furiously. it was embarrassing, but you assumed it was because he was just as immature as when you were a kid.
even though he kept the house at freezing temperatures, gojo absolutely loved to spent time outside. he would stay out there hours laying in the sun. a couple of times you had caught yourself staring out your bedroom window at the shirtless man laying on the pool chair. although he was in his 40s, you could tell he was still very active for his age. your eyes traced down his abdomen, taking in every detail of his defined body before looking back up to his face. to your absolute horror, he was already looking back at you with a sky smile. you quickly sat back down on your bed feeling your face get hot.
after that you avoided him as best as you could. he probably thought you were some kind of pervert, and you hated yourself for it. his own niece looking at his body in that manner. god, you needed to get ahold of yourself.
“hey.” you heard a voice in your ear from behind. it was the middle of the night and you were making yourself a snack. startled, you quickly turned around to be face to face with your uncle. “hmm, are you avoiding me, little girl?” he cocked his head to the side. you groaned at the nickname he had decided to give you. “i’m not little anymore,” you rolled your eyes and turned your back to him, hiding your embarrassed face. why couldn’t he just leave you alone.
“that’s right! you’re 18 now… you feel any older?” gojo asked leaning against the counter next to you, arms crossing over his muscular chest. you shrugged and stared down at your hands. why was he talking to you so casually after what happened just hours earlier. “i remember when i was 18. had the girls alllll over me,”. he giggled and sighed as he reminisced. “of course, they still are.”
you stared over at him with a look of horror at his comment. “what? embarrassed? well don’t worry, i won’t tell if you won’t,” his big hand rubbed your shoulder before placing it on top of your head. “do you have a boyfriend, y/n?” you shook your head quickly feeling more and more uncomfortable. “never had one before.”
that seemed to get his attention because he raised an eyebrow. “never? wow… so you’re a virgin then right? damn, if i were your age i would have jumped at the chance.” you didn’t know how to answer that, almost feeling ashamed being called out for something that was probably weird for a girl your age. of course you were a virgin, never even having your first kiss.
gojo stared down onto you for what seemed like hours before leaning closer. “so what you’re saying is you aren’t really a woman…yet,” he harshly squeezed one of your cheeks before leaving you alone, standing there in shock. ‘was that normal for uncles to do?’ you thought. you tried to brush it off, hurrying up in the kitchen before running off to your bedroom for the night. did that really mean you weren’t a woman? is it really that obvious? it made you feel insecure and uncomfortable at the realization. little did you know, gojo couldn’t get the thought of his sweet little niece being a virgin. he felt like the luckiest man in the world.
on his third night over gojo had offered some alcohol after getting back from the store. he said it would be good for the both of you to drink and bond over a movie. not wanting to seem little, you accepted his offer, sipping on the mixed drink he gave you. it tasted fruity and made your face twist in disgust. did adults really drink this crap? you would never say it, but this was your first time having alcohol and so far you couldn’t say you were enjoying it.
but was it normal to feel this funny after a couple sips? ‘must be a lightweight,’ you thought, eyelids blinking almost in slow motion. alcohol felt weird… why was your body feeling heavier?
you looked over at your uncle who was watching tv a few feet from you. his long legs were spread and he was picking at a hangnail on his thumb, biting at it occasionally. you cocked your head to the side as you watched the man. you felt guilty at the fact your stomach was doing flips at the sight of him just existing. it wasn’t normal to have these thoughts about your uncle, but here you were thinking the nastiest things.
you watched his eyes flick over to where you were sitting, giggling to yourself with your legs crossed. “what’s so funny?” he sat up a bit and patted the spot next to him. “come sit by your uncle.” his long finger beckoned you over as you slowly crawled over to him, head running into the side of his shoulder from losing your balance. “woah there,” he laughed and wrapped an arm around you. “how you feelin’ kid?” his eyes stared at you already knowing the answer to his question.
truth is you could barley see at this point. “ish thisss… normal?” you mumbled, head rolling to the side. “just gave you a little something extra… to make ya feel good,” you heard him say under his breath before pushing your back against the couch. his words didn’t register in your brain, but you felt his big hands on your hips, massaging them. you felt his long fingers hook into your waist band, playing with it for a bit, before slowly pulling your pants down your thighs. everything was happening so fast yet so slow at the same time. “mmm what doinn’?” your question went unanswered as rubbed his pointer finger over your pussy, listening to the wet noises it made. you moaned and closed your eyes, lip being pulled in between your teeth.
he inserted his finger before a second and then a third. your body naturally reacted to the foreign feeling, back arching and hips lifted off the cushions of the couch. he chuckled and pushed on your lower stomach. you tried sitting up, but between whatever it was you had drank and your uncle pinning you down you were unable to do anything but lay there and take whatever he wanted to give.
“just stay right there pretty girl,” you barley heard him say, and after that everything went black. you didn’t know what was happening to you even if you tried to fight it, drifting off into sleep. the last thing you remember was hearing the sound of fabric rustling, not knowing it was gojo taking off his sweat pants.
“missed you,” you hugged your mother tightly, face burring into her neck. you really, really did.
after that movie night with uncle satoru, you had felt off. your lower body ached and your head was fuzzy. you chalked it up to lack of sleep, but something deep down told you it wasn’t…. you were missing something big that happened but you couldn’t remember for the life of you. maybe it was the fact you woke up in your bed in a different pair of clothes, or maybe it was the weird sticky mess in your panties. the whole situation was off.
“she’s been an angel all week,” he told your parents with a hand on your shoulder. your parents told gojo he was so generous and that they were so thankful for helping them out. he even offered to let you stay with him when you went to college! your parents were so very happy to hear that, telling you it would be an amazing experience. you knew they just wanted you out the house, but all you could do was smile, not knowing what to do or say, showing gojo he got away with his sins that took place that night. showing him that he would be able to get away with something far, far worse.
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