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thef1diary · 4 months

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Kiss My Wounds | L. Hamilton

Request: Makeup or jealousy sex // Lewis comes home to her, because he had a really bad fight in the club (because of her, as some of his friends said something nasty about her) and even though they are not together, because they broke up..you know what happens next

Summary: read the request

Warnings: 18+ smut, angst, getting back together, protected sex (for the first time ever?!?!) riding, porn with plot (lots of plot)

Pairing: lewis x fem!ex!reader

wc: 2.9k

You were sitting on the couch with your head tilted back and your palm resting over your drooping eyes. So close to dozing off when your phone buzzed.

Startled by the vibration against your skin—as you had left your phone on your stomach—you picked it up and saw a text from him.

I'm here

Simple and to the point, because you two didn't text each other as often anymore. You were tempted to scroll and read through the conversations you shared when you two were still together, but you didn't want to break your own heart all over again.

You sighed and decided to get through this before you were able to think about everything that could go wrong.

Lewis was here to pick up a package that was accidentally delivered to your address instead of his.

When you texted him about it and asked when he would be available so you could drop it off, he suggested that he will come pick it up instead. Then, he was busy with races, so he never came around until now.

You opened the door, watching as he quickly pocketed his hands before looking at you. He wore an oversized jacket similar to his Mercedes one. The hood was covering most of his face and on top of that, it had a higher neckline that he raised further to cover his mouth.

You weren't new to this look, it was a habit of his to disguise himself so he wouldn't be recognized on the street.

However, it hurt knowing that he disguised himself because he was on the way to your place. That he didn't want to be recognized while coming up here.

Opening the door wider, you allowed him inside, letting him notice all the changes you made to the apartment in the last two months. There weren't any drastic differences, except for the fact that his touch was gone.

The small decorations he helped you choose when you first moved in were gone. He didn't utter a word, silently walking in and standing there, pretending like he didn't know every inch of the apartment.

You didn't wait for him to say anything, instead you went to the guest room to pick up the package so this could be over soon.

Having Lewis in your apartment again, in fact even seeing him again after breaking up, wasn't something you could've been prepared for. Not so soon.

The package is heavy, you remembered as you picked it up, almost tripping over due to the weight. That's why the doorman helped you bring it up when it first arrived.

Now, you wished you had asked if you could leave the package downstairs so Lewis wouldn't even have had to come up.

As you walked back in the main room, struggling with every step since your view was obstructed due to the size of the box, it was lifted away from your hands. Fingers grazed your own, and you let Lewis take the weight of the package since he was easily able to place it near the door.

He looked at the sealed box then at you, "you didn't open it?" You wanted to laugh at his question, out of all the ways he could behave, he wanted to keep it casual. It was so easy for him and realizing that, if you didn't laugh, you'd cry.

"It's not my business," anymore. You added in your mind but the implication was heard loud and clear.

He didn't say a word, but his eyes expressed the emotion you never wanted to see, hurt. "You know you don't have to keep that on while you're inside," you lifted your hand and gestured to his hood.

You didn't want him to stay long, but god did you want to see his face again. However, once your hand was raised, you noticed something on it that wasn't there before; blood.

When Lewis' hand grazed against yours earlier, he also accidentally smeared his blood on your skin. "Lewis?" You breathed his name as you looked at him, but his gaze was stuck on your hand.

There wasn't a lot, but you were still concerned as to why he was bleeding, and if not his, then whose blood was it?

He pocketed his hands again, and now you realize why he's so covered up. Forgetting about everything else, you rushed towards him, only stopping inches away.

Although hesitant but choosing not to ask, you removed his hood and pulled down the neckline to reveal his face. You gasped once you saw his busted lip, and there were surely some bruises beginning to form.

"What the fuck happened to you?" You asked, but he just shrugged. "Training accident, you know how those go."

You wanted to shake your head, to say that you didn't know. Not once has he ever come home injured because of training while you were together. Lewis looked at you, trying to gauge your reaction.

He knew that you knew he was lying, but he was so desperate to hear your voice, even if it was arguing with him. He was that desperate.

"Training?" You asked, and if it weren't for the worry that threatened to overtake you, you would've been amused at his attempt to lie.

"Can I see?" You gestured to his pocketed hands, and he nodded, removing them and wincing a bit when the wounds grazed over the fabric.

He held his hands out, letting you see his busted fists, both lightly covered in drying blood. "Fucking hell, Lew," you muttered, using his nickname which was so familiar to you that it still easily rolled off your tongue.

"You gotta clean this up," you spoke, looking at this hands then moving your gaze to his face, "all of it."

You dropped his hands and pushed him back, urging him to sit on the couch. "Wait here," you left the room before he could utter a word. Truthfully, he was just stunned into silence by your actions.

A few moments later, you walked back in the room, holding a first aid kit in your hands. Setting it down on the free space beside him, you took out a disinfectant with a cotton ball.

In a rush to clean up his wounds, you straddled him without hesitation. Lewis sighed, possibly in relief, but you didn't see it.

Holding one of his hands in yours, you lightly dabbed the soaked cotton ball on the drying blood. "Fuck," he hissed, and you muttered an apology.

Lewis' gaze was stuck on your face, watching as your brows knitted together in worry as well as the way you lightly bit your lip, completely focused.

After cleaning up both of his hands, you moved onto his face, and your eyes widened slightly when you realized he was already looking at you.

His intense gaze reminded you of the moments when you were together, how he looked at you when he was undoubtedly in love with you. "Lewis," you muttered.

He hummed in response and it almost pained you to say the next words, "close your eyes, please."

Shaking his head, "no." His response surprised you, but the words he said after left you speechless, "I want to look at you." He spoke so quietly that if you weren't looking at him, you probably wouldn't have known he had spoken.

Knowing that he wouldn't listen, you continued your task, taking a new cotton ball to dab on his lips.

You truly have no idea why you were doing this for him, perhaps it was because a part of you still cared. But, maybe you shouldn't have.

He made the simple task so much harder as soon as he parted his lips. Sure, it was in an attempt to help you, but your mind was flooded with many thoughts, and none of them could be said out loud.

"Do you want to tell me what actually happened?" You asked to get rid of the unholy thoughts brewing.

Since you were no longer holding his hands, Lewis rested them on your thighs as if it was a natural instinct. It was, once upon a time, but you thought he would've moved on from it by now.

You didn't comment on it and neither did he, instead he chose to finally tell you the truth. "I got into a fight," he said with a shrug.

"That seems obvious, but why?" You pressed on the matter further, and because he took a moment too long to answer, you increased the pressure on the cotton ball.

The pressure forced a hiss out of his mouth, and when his eyes connected with yours, he knew you did it on purpose.

A smile threatened to break out on his face, mainly because while everything changed between you two, it was still the same.

Then, realizing that you were still waiting for an answer, his face concealed the smile well. "Some of my friends started saying shit about you," he didn't want to go in the detail of what was said.

"And your first thought was to punch them?" You asked, almost amused but also worried because he wasn't ever violent.

"The second thought. You know I don't like people judging our relationship, doesn't matter if it's coming from my friends or not," Lewis explained.

"Lewis, we're not together anymore, so you have no reason to get into fights because of me." Lewis didn't like those words, so he shook his head.

You threw the cotton ball to the side once you were done, and finally, finally, noticed the position you were in.

He noticed the exact moment you realized, and tightened his grip on your thighs once you attempted to move away.

"You still care about me," he states like it was a fact but little did he know you were still undeniably in love with him.

"I would care about anyone that is hurt, you're not that special," you respond, trying to gain the upper hand. You relaxed in his grasp as one of his hands moved up and down your back in a soothing motion.

"Is that so?" He leaned back with his lips turning up in a lazy smirk, and that's when you knew that you'd lose this little back and forth battle.

You nodded, choosing not to say anything out loud. Lewis tugged you closer, bodies touching and lips only inches away.

Before anything could go further, even though you desperately wanted to kiss him, you had an important question. "Are you hurt anywhere else?" You wanted to ensure that you wouldn't increase his injuries.

He chuckled, "why don't you check?" The implications behind his words was clear. Your fingers found the zipper of his jacket, unzipping it at a teasingly slow speed.

He shrugged the jacket off and your fingers inched underneath his shirt, but this time Lewis couldn't wait. "Stop teasing, darling."

You removed his shirt and fortunately, there weren't any bruises forming. You traced his tattoos with your finger, following the ridges of his abs before stopped right above the waistband of his jeans.

"Hm, I don't think you need me anymore, you don't have any other cuts to clean," you stated, knowing that it wasn't the reason why Lewis wanted you to take off his shirt. But then again, you almost wanted him to beg.

His hands returned to your hips, and this time he tugged you oh so close, where you were able to feel the bulge of his erection through his jeans. "I think you and I both know how much I need you."

One of your hands rested on the nape of his neck, while the other was on his cheek. "Maybe you should show me," you suggested before pressing your lips against his.

Lewis bucked his hips up as soon as you let him deepen the kiss, which made you let out a sigh, swallowed by him.

His hands inched up your shirt, and you allowed him to take it off. Lewis tilted his head back with his eyes closed as soon as he got a small peak of your bare chest again. "Fuck," he groaned.

Then, his lips trailed kisses down your neck towards your tits, tongue circling your nipple before he engulfed it in his warm, wet mouth.

You tilted your head back in pleasure, allowing Lewis to rest his hand on your throat. He didn't restrict any airflow, but he just liked the way his tattooed hand looked resting on your throat.

"Fuck me," you muttered and Lewis was quick to capture your filthy mouth with his, stealing your breath from you.

His other hand dipped underneath your jeans, palming your ass but his gaze connected with yours. "Can I?" He asked, like he always did.

You nodded and leaned up, resting on your knees because you didn't want to slip off his lap. Lewis quickly unbuttoned your pants before sliding them off as much as he could.

You helped him remove the rest before straddling him again, and he couldn't help but let out a low groan at feeling you envelope his lap.

His hands roamed everywhere, as he had missed feeling your skin underneath his palms. "I think I might lose my mind if you don't ride me soon," he gritted out once you began grinding down on him.

You chuckled, stealing a kiss from him as your hands worked to unbutton his jeans. He managed to slip them off in record time, eager to be inside you.

Once you freed his cock from his boxers, he sighed in relief before his abs tensed as your hand moved up and down his length.

"Do you have a condom?" You asked, even though you two stopped using one when you were together. But you had to ask because it had been two months since you broke up and had no idea what Lewis did in that time.

"In my jeans," he answered, and you grabbed his pants that were discarded on the floor earlier. "I don't know if I should be impressed or disgusted," you stated with a teasing smile on your face, revealing that you weren't disgusted at all.

"Definitely impressed." His smirk was back, but it faltered as his lips parted once you rolled on the condom. "I don't know, it seems like you planned it."

"Maybe," he revealed with a grin on his face. But then, he turned serious before muttering the next words, "for the record, I haven't been with anyone else after you."

His words warmed your heart, "me neither." You were glad that you weren't the only one holding back.

You tugged your panties to the side, thinking that it would take too long to properly remove them, before you sunk down on Lewis's cock.

The two months apart almost made you forget how much he stretches you out, able to feel every ridge and bump a lot more this time

You stilled once every inch of him was inside you, breathing out slowly to get used to his size. He didn't rush you, enjoying the warmth he dearly missed. He was actually glad you stilled, or else it would've ended embarrassingly fast on his end.

His hand rounded to your front, fingers toying with your clit. You dropped your head on his shoulder once you started moving, gasping at the added pleasure of Lewis circling your clit.

His other hand remained on your ass, aiding your movements up and down, slowly picking up the speed until you were a moaning mess. He wasn't any better, choosing to be completely vocal.

"I don't think I'm going to last long," Lewis muttered, warning you but you agreed with him, "me too, fuck, you feel so good."

You pressed your lips against his again with the need to kiss him while your hands rested on his shoulders. Though, it ended up in sloppy kisses with little breaks in between because of gasps and moans you couldn't contain.

It didn't last long enough, both of you spilling over the edge without needing much stimulation but still not completely satisfied just yet. You slowed down before fully stopping.

"I missed you," Lewis stated, and you agreed, "I missed you too."

You eased off his cock, allowing him to get rid of the condom. Sitting side by side, his hand found yours and easily threaded his fingers between yours.

Lewis tilted your face towards him, "I still love you, I don't think I've regretted anything more than letting you walk out of my life."

You had a sad smile on your face, "we all make mistakes, some are more costly than others."

"Do you still?" He didn't have the heart to finish the question, maybe because he was still scared of the answer.

Your palm rested on his cheek, "I don't think I ever stopped loving you, Lew."

A genuine smile crept up on his face, "good," he pulled you back on to his lap, "because we have two months worth of sex to catch up on."

You chucked at his words, but didn't deny it. You were about to kiss him but he leaned away, realizing something. "Hold on, I can't believe you threw out all my stuff,"

Once again you let out a laugh, "I didn't have the heart to throw it out, it's sitting in the guest room in boxes. Now are you going to fuck me or not?"

He didn't give you an answer, instead he lifted you and began walking towards your bedroom.

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton fic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #thef1diary fic #smut #lewis hamilton angst #angst #f1 angst #f1 smut

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evielmostdefinitely · 3 months

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I would love see the first time that “excentric” aspect of they relationship started. Like how Coryo punishment her for the first time, She know what will happened? They talk about? And how she feel with that? Afraid ? Turn on ? Jealousy in think that probaly he did this with someone else ? Sorry if i wrote something wrong, english is not my first language

closer to the darkness |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: as requested, the dark backstory that led to you and coriolanus' exciting sex life.

contains: very very VERY DARK undertones. mentions prostitution and the exploitation that occurs in the capitol. public sex with undertones of slight humiliation. very very dark coriolanus. slightly manipulative and obsessive coriolanus. bdsm themes. dom!coryo x sub!reader. spanking. spanking with implement. oral (fem receiving). overall very dark smut. minors dni.

A simple invite, passed to him by the sly smirk of a classmate. “Snow,” Dennis hissed lowly, pencil tapping on the page of a book, eyes cutting to watch for the librarian. “A couple of us are going to The Underground tonight. Are you coming?”

Coriolanus blinked, face staying stoic, unreadable. He didn’t particularly like the boys in his class, not now anymore than years before. He found the civilness of their polite conversation to be useless now- now that he had you.

“I’m busy.” Coriolanus dismissed. He had no interest in going to their gambling billiards room or whatever this club was.

“Oh, come on.” Dennis grinned, head ducking low. “You can leave the Duke girl for a night. She won’t mind anyways. Her brothers are always there. You’ll be in kept company.”

Coriolanus perked at the mention. Your brothers, the two elder Duke boys that he hadn’t yet charmed the way he had your father and mother. A necessity to secure their approval. He knew they’d run the family business, already high up in the family ranks. If he planned to go forth with his game ideas, he’d need their investment.

That drove him to cancel his plans with you, a half-hearted excuse about studying, offering to spend the weekend with you instead. He joined the boys of his class, socialites and aristocrats alike, all wearing their family’s name like a badge of honor. Coriolanus followed them towards the luxury end of the Capitol, secluded and reserved for only the best of the Capitol goers, exclusion even in the highest class.

Coriolanus twisted the wad of cash in his pocket, hoping he could remember enough to pass at the roulette tables. “Here,” Dennis hummed, passing the small, black mask to Coriolanus when the doorman let them in.

“What’s this?” Coriolanus muttered, twisting the mask in his hands.

“Just part of it. I’m sure it helps the others feel their identity is well protected.” Dennis shrugged, tying the silk ends to the back of his head, eyes accentuated with the harsh black contrast of the material.

They gamble openly during the games, but are worried here? Coriolanus thought, fighting back an eye roll. Instead, he fastened the material, following the string of people through the darkened hallways. It felt far from luxurious, more like the burrows and halls he’d sneak with Lucy Gray back in District Twelve.

His mind wandered back to hers, furiously shaking her from his thoughts. He needed to be sharp, alert. Coryo had already decided he’d stumble into your brothers, hopeful he could still find them with the masks, that he’d sit at the right roulette table.

Coriolanus stilled when there was no table. No green velvet lined table with dice and cigar smoke, no liquor or Avoxes roaming about. No, instead, there was a small, circular stage with a single row of chairs surrounding it.

“Snow,” Dennis nudged his arm, pulling him from his thoughts. “We’re over here.”

Coryo followed him, thankful for the mask, hoping it would conceal his wandering eyes. What was this place? A stage in the middle, nothing else. Coriolanus’ chest tightened with fear, grim curiosity perhaps as he settled into his seat. All around him, men with masks, chatting with each other, all nearly identical in the dim light of the room.

“I heard they found her from Eleven.” The boy, Lucios, beside Dennis grinned.

“I’m quite bored of the homely looking girls. They always look frightened, like caged animals being led to slaughter.” Dennis rolled his eyes in boredom. “I wish they’d bring in another girl from One. They always know how to put on the best shows.”

“I’d even settle for Two.” Lucios cackled in a droning posh tone, waving over for his drink. “Maybe Three.”

“It wouldn’t even be a real girl from Three. A hologram.” Dennis laughed. “As long as it isn’t Twelve or Ten, they always have the worst smell.” He snarled, eyes cutting to Coriolanus, who was rigidly watching the interaction.

Dennis frowned, lips parting with a question, the trilling of a bell silencing him and everyone around them. All settling into their seats, quiet and still. Coryo’s heart beat so loudly it was deafening in his ears. Eyes scanning the room, he caught a glimpse of your brothers on the other side, eyes meeting only for a moment before the room fell dark. Completely pitch black, Coriolanus swallowed his rising panic, fists balling.

It was a set up, a conspiracy to get him here, kill him. Of course they’d want to, they wanted you all for their own. Dennis had commented on you weeks ago, congratulated him behind bared teeth. How could he be so stupid? How could he not see?

A single light blinded him, body tensing at the sudden intrusion of light spilling above the stage. Underneath the beam, a man stood. His face was concealed entirely by a red mask that covered all his features, dressed in appropriate but dark wear, but with gloves that matched his mask. Next to him, a girl kneeling in a collar, and just a collar. Her face not covered, oh no, Coriolanus could see every line of fear, shine of terror though she tried to hide it.

“Gentlemen,” The man’s voice was loud, even through the muffling of the mask it rang through the silent room. “Tonight our guest from Nine.” His gloved hand ran over her tied hair, and Coriolanus didn’t miss the way she shivered, biting her lip in fear.

Coriolanus watched in eerie intrigue as the man brought her to a small bench like contraption, making a large show of securing her arms and legs, so she was left spread, vulnerable to the audience to see the most intimate parts of her.

Coriolanus’ chest burned, maybe with fear, maybe with something else. Your brothers were here, here. He hoped they hadn’t seen him, stomach turning with the fear of what you’d do if you found out- fear that you’d leave him. The man on stage’s droning words fell deaf on his ears, mind racing with a plan, a plan to leave before they’d see you. He couldn’t see the row on the other side because of the light, so he hoped they couldn’t see him.

His thoughts were stopped by a single cutting whistle of wood through the air, walloping onto skin with a resounding smack! followed by a muffled cry.

“In the dark times, far before the dark times, since nearly the beginning of time, there have been many forms of debauchery that have been used to cause excitement.” The man droned dramatically, twisting a leather paddle in his hand.

He tapped the girl’s left bottom cheek, before bringing his arm back, sending the paddle soaring onto her ass again. Coriolanus jumped slightly at the impact, mind dumbly blank of the worries from before. Nearly trance-like, watching the man paddle the girl, how she cried pathetically, how her flesh turned, blossoming with marks.

“There has always been a power imbalance.” The man continued, letting the paddle rub teasingly over her body. “There have always been the powerful, the helpless. Those who are in charge, those who are submissive- completely at the mercy of your cruelness, of your control.”

Coriolanus felt his pants tent, blood rushing from his head down to his throbbing cock. The man stalked, heavy footsteps that echoed in the room, back between the girl's legs. “There is a need for order. Even in intimacy.” He hummed, bringing the paddle down twice, two snapping flicks of his wrist.

Coriolanus swallowed, spit pooling in his mouth at the cries the girl gave. The man scanned the room, setting the paddle on her backside, slowly taking off a glove. Coriolanus leant forward, watching the man with intense intrigue.

“Because as we all know, there is pleasure in power.” The man boomed, his hand disappearing between the girl’s legs. A gasp ghosting on the edge of pleasure filled the room, her back arching at the sensation that was hidden from Coriolanus’ view, his eyes narrowing for a better view.

Coryo’s face blushed deeply, burning with excitement when the man’s fingers lifted, covered in sticky arousal from the girl that webbed his fingers. “And as you can see, there is pleasure in pain as well.” Though his face was hidden, Coriolanus could hear the smug smirk of his voice.

“My darling guest here is one who enjoys such pain, which is why she’s chosen to serve the Capitol and offer her services.” The man continued, wiping her release on his pants. “For the night, the rates bidding starts at a high price since she can only be shared once.”

Coriolanus slipped out when the bidding started, the lights dimming enough for him to see the exit. He walked furiously down the streets of the Capitol, throwing the mask furiously on the ground. Still, his cock throbbed, stirred to life, not at the girl but at the idea. The idea that you would be tied up, tilt that power to him entirely, be at his mercy and command.

He’d brain his throbbing cock as the reason his thoughts were scattered, why he showed up at your penthouse.

“I thought you were studying- oh!” You squeaked, letting the door fall with a snap shut, Coriolanus’ hands on your waist, kissing you with feverish hunger.

“I missed you.” Coriolanus rasped, your heart swelling at the words. “I couldn’t wait until this weekend. I had to see you. Had to taste you.”

Your knees wobbled at the words, tensing with excitement. You could feel his stiff cock on your hip, ignoring the way he rubbed himself into your hip, letting him settle between your legs. You were surprised when his plush lips pressed to the inside of your thighs, hot breath ghosting over your clothed pussy. Your fingers tangled through his hair when his lips wrapped around your sensitive clit, lapping and suckling.

Coriolanus knew what to do, what he needed to do to get you brainless, pliant before he’d suggest such a proposal. So he let you pull at his hair, let you tug at the roots while you whined and cried out, bucking beneath him as his tongue worked you open.

“I want to try something.” Coriolanus hovered above your sprawled out frame, slack and limp against the rustled sheets. His eyes were dark, looking down at you from the slope of his nose- it sent a shiver right through your already trembling frame. “If you’re willing.”

Brain still foggy from the previous orgasms, you nodded lazily. Of course you did, it was like clockwork to Coryo, all a part of his plan. “You always enjoy it so much when I’m rough with you,” Coryo began, biting back a smirk at how you blushed, body folding shyly into itself at his words. “I want to try something a little… more.”

“I don’t much care for torture.” You frowned, lips pulling in a scowl.

“I would never torture you, darling.” Coryo smiled softly, a small shake of his head that had you relaxing. “I think you’ll find this more pleasurable than painful.”

He had you over his thigh after a short amount of coaxing. Legs on either side of his thigh, body resting on the silk sheets behind him. He alternated sharp smacks to your ass that left you squealing, lifting in tense alert at the sensation only for his hand to slip back between your thighs, tease and pleasure you until you melted back onto his thigh. Until his spanks were met with pathetic whimpers of pleasure, rubbing yourself shamelessly on his thigh.

It was only the beginning. The very start of the shift in power for the two of you. First in the bedroom, then out in the world.

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sofreddie · 1 year

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The Lion's Den - Part 8

Characters: Crowley x F!Reader

Warnings: Contract Negotiations as Foreplay/Pillow Talk, Smut (Protected Sex, Marking, Possessiveness, Oral Sex, Spanking, Choking/Asphyxiation, Rough Sex, Squirting), Fluff

KINK: MARKING KINK (@anyfandomkinkbingo)

WC: 2,495

A/N: I am so happy and relieved that I got this part written. It felt like a fistfight to get every word down. But now that I've worked through my blocks, my anxiety is easing up and I've been able to work a little more on other fics as well. One more chapter after this one, though I have outlined possible timestamps. Thank you so much for your patience and I hope this installment in the series was worth the wait. ;)

Series Masterlist

Part 7

Y/N took a deep breath to calm her nerves as she exited her hired car, the all-too-familiar door of The Lion's Den glowing brightly, beckoning her within. She pulled the gold-embossed invitation card from her clutch, handing it to the doorman who smiled warmly and opened the door for her to enter.

The Den was buzzing with life and activity like a nightclub - music blasting, drinks everywhere. All the staff and the most elite of clientele were invited, closed to all others. It was a private celebration of the anniversary of the club's opening. The sounds of laughter and joviality rang through the ever-sex-tainted air.

Grabbing a champagne flute off a passing waiter's tray, she began to walk the room, letting her eyes take in the abundance of sensations around her.

As she surveyed the party-goers, her eyes paused as she caught each man that she's enjoyed separately, each surrounded by clients, both favored and prospective. Playing coy and unaffected - and truly just anticipating her time with Crowley - she passed by each of them, their eyes findings hers and giving her a sultry look that made her reminisce of her times with them.

Before long, Crowley's young assistant, Kevin, found her amongst the crowd, inviting her to follow him to his boss' private table.

"Crowley's been waiting for you," Kevin told her as he effortlessly maneuvered through the crowds and to the familiar, secluded booth Crowley liked to occupy.

She was eager and excited but tried her best to hide it. She'd learned to hone her poker face over years of business meetings and negotiations. The Den was one place she felt she could let her guard down and relax.

"There she is," Crowley greeted as she approached his private booth. He stood beside the alcove, straightening his suit and eyes raking her body, draped in a simple gown for the evening's events.

"Crowley," Y/N responded with a smirk, offering her hand. Crowley grasped it gently between both of his hands, bending down to kiss the back of her knuckles.

"Thank you for accepting my invitation," he gestured to the booth and Y/N slid into the seat, Crowley sitting opposite of her.

"I was wondering if I was ever going to get this one-on-one with you or if you were going to keep teasing me," she pouted playfully.

"Ah, yes," Crowley sighed, nodding his head. "I've been rather busy lately," he explained. "Expanding my empire, you understand."

"I do," she agreed quickly. "And I've heard of your successes. Opening a new club?"

"Yes, and I heard of your latest conquering as well. You've been all over the papers recently. I have to admit, I'm a fan of your work."

Silence fell between them as fresh drinks were delivered. Y/N took a long sip, her eyes trailing over Crowley in yet another perfectly tailored suit.

"How have you been enjoying the club?" Crowley inquired, easing the momentary lull in their conversation.

"You should be able to tell from my monthly bill how much I enjoy this club of yours," she smirked behind her glass, feeling mildly tipsy and relaxed in Crowley's presence.

He chuckled, "Yes, well, what if I told you that I'd like to make a deal with you," he challenged, a glint in his eyes.

Y/N sat up straighter, gently setting her drink on the table. She eyed him carefully, as anyone would a potential opponent. Her eyes sparkled and her heart raced, ready to broker another deal. After all, it's what she lived for. With a silent gesture of her hand, she urged him to continue.

Enjoying the game as much as Y/N did, Crowley prepared to lay out his offer.

"You can have me tonight, however you want, as a client. I am more than willing."

Y/N's heart raced differently, Crowley's proposal cutting to the chase of what she'd been after since she laid eyes on him. Biting her lip, she was eagerly anticipating the rest of his proposal.

"Or, you can agree to be mine and I'll fuck you for free, whenever you want."

"Be yours?" she inquired with a quirked brow, more than intrigued by his proposal.

"I'm a King without a Queen," he sighed. "You are smart, beautiful, cunning. Together we could expand my empire and be unstoppable. And of course, you can continue to sample the wares, so long as you remain mine."

"Think it over. In the meantime, I believe we have much more pressing matters," his smile morphed into a grin as his eyes shamelessly trailed over her body.

More pressing matters indeed.

She would definitely think over his offer, though she was sure what she'd most likely say.

Welcoming the distraction, and far too eager for this long-awaited encounter, Y/N allowed Crowley to lead her by the hand away from the staircase and familiar hall of rooms and into a long hallway that led to somewhere much more private.

It was his office, she quickly realized, and it was single-handedly the most expensive and lavish room she had seen in this entire place so far. The soft click of the door behind her made her smile, her anticipation ramping up, her panties already growing damp.

"I enjoy rare and beautiful things," Crowley spoke as he walked comfortably across the office, unbuttoning his suit jacket and casually leaning against the edge of his desk.

She glanced around the room, indeed eyeing many things that piqued her interest. Her eyes floated back to him. The electricity in the air between them crackled with heat, the delicious banter and teasing drawing out, being savored between them.

"And you are the most rare and beautiful thing I've ever encountered," he breathed out. She felt her body slump and swoon, the seriousness flickering in his eyes making her desperately ravenous.

She wasn't one for relationships, her career at the forefront of her mind, the Den a way for her to feed her needs and desires without the complexities of relationships. The look in his eyes made her realize they might be dancing on a line here, but it also made her want to take a chance and step right over it.

Meeting his eyes once more, she knew her fate was sealed.

"You want to be mine?" Crowley asked as he leaned back against his desk with a knowing smirk. "Show me, My Pet."

A flutter ran through her body as she was more than eager to comply. She knew he wanted her as much as she wanted him. Holding his gaze, she slipped off her dress, revealing she was completely bare beneath. His eyes roamed over her body with admiration and lust.

"Stunningly beautiful, Y/N," Crowley praised. Standing straight, he raised a single finger urging her to come forth.

She gave a crooked smirk as she slowly dropped to her knees, her hands hitting the ground next. She curved her back like a cat as she slowly crawled towards him, the way that John appreciated. As Crowley rubbed his hand against his strained and hardened cock, Y/N knew he too appreciated her moves.

As she reached Crowley, Y/N used her hands to crawl up his thighs, straightening her naked body against his legs. She ghosted along his covered shaft with her nose, her hands settled on his hips.

"My, you are a good pet, aren't you Love?"

Tilting her head back she met his eyes, his hand cupping her cheek.

"Yes, Sir," she responded, doing her best to maintain doe-eyes and a straight face.

Crowley growled before leaning down to crash his lips into hers. Pulling back he whipped off his jacket, the matching vest underneath following closely behind. His hands tucked under her arms - with a strength she didn't know he possessed - he lifted and carried her easily, laying her back on the lush chaise lounge off to the side.

She relaxed back into the soft and plush material of the ornate sofa, her legs falling open to reveal her dampened core. Crowley stared at her hungrily as he loosened his tie, just enough to slip the loop off his head and over hers, adjusting the tie to lie between her breasts.

"Looking more and more like mine by the minute," Crowley smirked, rising from the sofa to strip himself bare.

Y/N watched with hungry eyes, licking her lips as his glorious cock was revealed to her. From head to toe, he was every bit as delicious as she'd imagined he'd be, still emanating power and authority without the amazing, tailored suits.

She licked her lips as he slowly climbed over her, his lips ghosting along her body but not quite touching, the tease of it making her squirm. He lapped at her nipple before encasing it in his mouth, humming at her responding moan.

In her distraction, he moved his mouth lower, sucking a mark on the underside of her breast. She jumped and hissed, the sensation making her core clench. She glanced down, seeing the mark he left behind, and giving him a questioning gaze.

"Only where it won't be seen," he answered her unspoken concern. "Want to see my Pet covered in my marks," he growled at her, settling in on her other breast.

He worked his way down her body, leaving hickeys and love bites as he went, adorning her in his marks. She shivered beneath him, each new mark drenching her core. He worked his way between her thighs, teasing her and leaving even more marks, avoiding the sensitive areas where she was desperate for his touch.

Finally, he turned his attention to her needy and dripping core, lapping up her essence before focusing his energy on her clit.

With mostly his mouth and a little help from his hands, he guided her through a slow-building, slow-crashing orgasm that washed over her like a wave. The scratch of his beard against her sensitive skin added to the euphoric feeling.

He stood suddenly, making her whine from the loss of his touch. He smirked down at her as he rolled on a condom. She licked her lips once more, writhing with neediness.

"Hands and knees, Pet," Crowley grinned, helping guide her into position. She gripped the armrest, curving her back and spreading her legs, her dripping pussy on display.

He groaned, gripping her ass in both hands and kneading the cheeks before slapping the right one harshly. Y/N jumped and moaned, the sting further igniting her lust.

"So responsive, Y/N," Crowley crooned, before sliding deep within her core in one smooth stroke. "So eager; so much fun to play with," he moaned, pulling out and thrusting in hard, relishing her surprised gasps.

Crowley set a fast and harsh pace, the slap of their skin leaving a red tint on Y/N's ass and thighs. She let out a guttural moan as he hit her deep, rubbing deliciously over her g-spot and slamming into her cervix. The mix of pleasure and pain was setting her alight. Her hands clung to the armrest, her nails digging into the upholstery. Part of her was afraid she'd claw it to pieces; part of her didn't give a damn.

His fingers found the tie, still around her neck, turning it to now lie down her spine. He gently tugged on the tie, showing her his intent.

"You good, My Love?" he asked, his hips never stopping their harsh pace.

"Y-yes, S-Sir!" she moaned out wantonly. He held her expertly on a high but kept her from crossing over, the torture of it exquisite.

Crowley wrapped the end of the tie around his hand, the other hand on her hip to steady her to take his cock. He tugged on the tie, simultaneously pulling her back on his cock and beginning to cut off her air. Her pussy fluttered and she let out a groan that made no sound, the pressure and pain bordering too much.

Suddenly, the pressure released and she sucked in a large breath of air, her pussy clamping hard around Crowley's unrelenting length. He growled, both hands on her hips as he fucked her near flat on the sofa. She came hard, gushing around his cock, screaming out her release that seemed to reverberate off the office walls around her.

The intensity of her orgasm pulled Crowley into his own, thrusting deep within her and filling the condom, his hips still moving to extend their mutual highs.

After catching his breath, Crowley removed himself, disposing of the condom. Y/N lay on the sofa, the cool air of the room against her heated skin refreshing. She was thoroughly fucked and sated. Crowley more than delivered, the real thing far better than her fantasies could have conjured.

Hearing the clinking of glass, she rolled over, resting her head back against the armrest. Crowley approached, now wearing his slacks, with two glasses in hand. He offered her one, lifting her feet to sit on the sofa, and setting them back across his lap.

She took a sip from the glass, eyeing Crowley warily, his words and proposition from before still present in her mind.

"So," she glanced at her glass, swirling the liquid within before meeting his eyes once more. "Be yours?"

He grinned and she matched his expression. He set his glass on the side table and rose, moving to his desk and digging in the drawer, finding what he was looking for and setting it on the small table beside her.

"A contract?" she asked excitedly as if he'd slid a jewelry box across the table to her.

She gave it a cursory review, finding it to be a detailed partnership agreement. She loved reading through contracts, finding loopholes, and exploiting or eradicating them, whatever suited her and her clients' interests best.

It was solid, ironclad, and perfect. More perfect and romantic than flowers and dates and frivolous things that she wasn't interested in. It was a great deal and one she was more than willing to accept. Included in their partnership was a VP position for her in Crowley's firm - a right hand to the man himself - and control and Madame of the new female brothel that he intended to open across town.

Aside from more money and a great opportunity, it was a chance to share her life with someone. It wasn't something she was ever really interested in, but with Crowley, her passion for business and appetite for sex crossed into a perfect match.

"And you wouldn't be upset about me continuing to see your gentleman?" she asked with a quirked brow. She did not expect his hearty chuckle.

"My Dear, fuck whomever you want. It's your heart and soul I'm after," he grinned, cupping her cheek.

After reviewing the contract - and knowing she'd have her lawyers review it before signing anything - she grinned, "You little devil," she teased.

Climbing into his lap, she wrapped her arms around his neck, grinding down against his cock which was already hard and ready for her.

"I accept."

PART 9

FOREVERS:

@lyarr24

@hobby27

@kazsrm67

@maliburenee

@440mxs-wife

@writercole

@spnbaby-67

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@leigh70

@laycblack

#the lion's den #anyfandomkinkbingo #crowley x f!reader #crowley x reader #crowley #reader insert #supernatural #spn #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic #smut

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soupandtissues · 8 months

Note

Loving your new G/ood O/mens fics! If you wanted to write any more, how about this for the fall prompts?

🌧️🛁, with possibly some 🦉?

super late but:

Crowley and Aziraphale get caught in a rainstorm with some genderfluid Crowley thrown in because I missed that in season 2.

When it Rains it Pours

It had been a simple temptation really. Crowley was supposed to topple some business dealing into corruption. She hadn’t actually being listening to which business man was the target so she had taken up residency in the club next to the center where the business events were taking place. She sang made all the patrons swoon, demand an encore, and then be late to meetings and their wives. It had all gone perfectly well.

So she really should have expected the unexpected downpour.

The loud clap of thunder rang through the air as it announced the rain a moment before it started covering the streets and scattering people for the nearest awnings. Crowley was among the crowd, still in her evening dress that certainly wasn’t meant to deal with that kind of weather.

As they all stood under the canopy for shelter she caught a familiar flash of blond and beige in her peripheral vision.

“If you wanted to meet there are subtler ways, Crowley.”

“Do I look like I dressed for the weather, Angel?!” she asked, hugging her bare arms.

“I suppose not.”

“right I-hhih…hih’ISHhh!”

She sniffled and cursed silently because of course the dress lacked pockets.

“Oh, please take mine,” he said, and offered his handkerchief.

It was already damp naturally, but Crowley accepted it with a nod pressing it to her nose as it twitched hard again.

“Ehh’ESHHUuh!”

Before she could protest there was a thick coat draped over her shoulders.

“Snf! Thank you.”

They and several others stayed under cover, but it quickly became clear that the storm wasn’t letting up any time soon. Watching the wind and the rain with no sudden appearance of umbrellas or the Bentley it was also perfectly clear that miracles were off limits.

“So, staying anywhere?” Crowley asked, though chattering teeth, hoping Aziraphale might be closer to somewhere warmer than her.

“Oh no, I’m afraid I’ve just arrived.” He tried to answer casually, but Crowley could see Aziraphale was starting to shake too. She also knew he wouldn’t take his coat back now.

With one last glance to the storm she sighed in acceptance. “All right.”

She kicked off what was left of her high heels got the coat over them both and made a run for it.

The blocks seemed endless as they moved through the driving rain, but the doorman thankfully held open the door for them when they finally made it to dry land again.

“You’re staying at a hotel?” Aziraphale asked, as they weaved through the lobby.

“I’m not in town long enough to need anything else it’s why I didn’t bring my car. Technically I’m off for the rest of the week now.”

They made it to her room and with numb fingers she unlocked the door and went inside.

“Thank you, Crowley.”

“Don’t mention it and thanks again for this.” she said, hanging his coat up the dry. The heat vent by the door would help with that, but she was still shivering.

“I’m gonna warm up, you can join me if you’d like,” she offered, heading for the bathroom and the large tub she knew was within.

“Crowley, really I think that would be…inappropriate.”

She stopped short. “Why? We both spent time in Rome.”

“Well I…I couldn’t really, it’s-it’s not that bad.”

Crowley shrugged. “Suit yourself.” she said, and went into the bathroom, closing the door tightly behind her. Normally she would banter more, but right now she just wanted to be warm. She turned the taps on full to fill the tub and grabbed all the little bottles around the room, using one to coat the water in bubbles, just in case.

It turned out to be the right choice as just as the room was nice and steamy there was a soft knock at the door.

“Er…Crowley, would you mind terribly if I’ve changed my mind?”

Crowley opened the door and pulled him inside.

“Course not, Angel, just don’t let all the steam out.”

She stepped over to one side to undress, keeping her eyes down for her angel’s modesty and sunk into the water with a sigh. She closed her eyes even after she’d heard Aziraphale join her in the tub, letting the warmth soak through her, taking away the shivers and the deep chill from the storm that was still pounding on the windows outside.

The stuffy feeling in her nose wasn’t leaving however much to her dismay. She rubbed at it, but only succeeded in pushing the annoying buzz in to full blown tickle.

“Huhh’ITCHhh! Ehh-ehhh-AESHhuh!”

Her pathetic attempt to stifle still received no response from Aziraphale and that was surprising. She looked up and realized he too was quite distracted.

His eyes were unfocused, a hand waving in front his nose that too was twitching.

“Uhh…ihhh…”

Deciding to help Crowley moved closer and reached up, running her finger along his nose in a teasing caress.

“Ihh’ISSHEew! ISHHh! hehh…ISSHIewI”

She passed over a small towel.

“Seems I’m not the only one under the weather as it were.”

“I suppose not. A shame really I was supposed to meet an old colleague here and there was a new barber shop I wanted to try.”

“We’ll just have to make do then, lean back for me.”

Picking up one of the shampoo bottles she worked it through his hair, finishing up with a eucalyptus conditioner, she remembered he liked that.

“Thank you.”

She nodded and stifled a yawn as she sunk back down into the bath the strong scent lingering around them. Without the aid of miracles though the water eventually cooled and so they got out. Aziraphale went for the complimentary robes and slipped one over Crowley who just gaped as he tied it around her.

“Would hate to make your cold any worse I…ihh-IMPSHHu!”

He blushed as the sneeze was muffled into her shoulder.

“So, sorry.”

“S’all right, Angel, and thanks.”

They exited the bathroom tissues clutched under their noses that were now running freely and tinged pink.

Crowley made for the couch, turning on the TV. Scrolling through until she found something that looked new and left it on.

Aziraphale joined her and she let her head rest against his shoulder, it was nice. Except for how the fabric started teasing her nose.

“EHH’ARSUHUhh! ASHUUuhh!”

“Salud.”

Crowley winced, her sneezes were getting messier and harder to contain as the night went on. “Sorry, know I’m loud.”

“I don’t mind.”

She smiled, turning her attention back to the screen.

“Well I expressed myself I told them they had to leave they were too ugly to look at.”

And was interrupted by a knock on the door yet again.

“Room service.”

“Coming!”

Aziraphale got up and to the door, took the tray from the young lad at the door and sent them away with a generous tip.

“I hope it’s all right that I ordered in.”

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

He set out the small meal on the table and picked up the mugs that had come with it, handing one to Crowley.

“I know it’s probably far too forward, but you did look so chilled earlier.”

She accepted the drink and pulled him back down on the couch, probably being equally too forward.

“Well you’re doing a marvelous job keeping me warm, Angel.”

“I’m glad, my dear.”

They settled back in, tangled together on the couch, and went back to watching the show.

“Ma!”

A short woman holding a purse and a paper bag came inside the house.

“Ma, what’s the matter?”

“Everyone is fine, no one died, the home burnt down.”

Crowley chuckled even though it made her cough she was going to like this one.

#g/ood o/mens #snz fic #torturethesnake #and their angel

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wasted-my-time · 4 months

Text

Good Morning

A sequel to Sharp.

@make-me-your-animal

Phil's POV

I'm dreaming, I always know when it is a dream or not since I've been transformed.

I am just floating around in the sky, and there's nothing else going on but the sun being periodically eclipsed by the clouds. It is weird that I often dream of the sun without actually seeing it for five years. Alt least here it cannot kill me, it just keeps me warm, like the best blanket ever.

But there's a pressure on my chest, something is pushing me down, and it moves on me, and it's not a dream and it's real and I...

-Aaah, my hand! A female voice screams above me as I sit up in surprise, unsure of where I am just waking up.

Oh fuck, Jean! I forgot about her! I look down to see my right hand tightly gripping her wrist, my long nails piercing her skin.

-I'm sorry love, I didn't want to. It's not... It's a reflex, ok? I mumble and release my hold.

She sits back on the bed and nods, but I can still see fear in her eyes, I follow her gaze, leading me to the drops of blood leaking out of the wounds I caused.

-If you want to, I can do something and it won't hurt at all. I propose.

-Yeah, I guess... She whispers.

I carefully hold her hand up and lay small kisses on the scratches, only to get a bit of saliva on them, since my mouth is full of anaesthetics. Because yeah, I'm basically a big mosquito.

-Is it better now?

Another nod, less fear. She breaks eye contact to look down to her tigh, right where I bit her last night.

-How's your leg? I ask, posing a hand on her bent knee and rubbing it through her jeans with my thumb.

-It's like any other wound, it's really not that bad. She answers with a small smile.

-No regrets?

-Not at all. What do we do tonight, wanna' go out?

It's now a big frank grin lighting up her face.

-Great idea! Where do you want to go? I answer after checking the clock on her nightstand: 9h34 P.M. no sun in sight!

-Get dressed, we'll see afterwards.

She watches as I collect my clothes from the various places we left them last night and start to pull them on. I like the feeling of her observation, the uncertainty of being teased or of being the tease.

She chuckles at the sight of my partially buttoned shirt.

-Sorry about that, but I was impatient. She walks towards me and wraps her arms around my neck.

-Was it worth the wait?

-Every. Single. Second. She says, pausing between words to kiss my face, and pushes me back on the bed.

-You know, if it goes like that, we'll never make it out of here. I stop her as she's about to lay her lips on mind.

-Would you really mind?

-... No. I admit. But if I made the effort to dress, it's not to get it all off the second after. Maybe after we went to a few clubs.

-Do you hate clothes that much?

-Just a bit...

___________________________________________

We went to the Marquee, the Taboo, and we just left the Blitz, and now Jean is blitzed, but I'm not so bad, alcohol doesn't have as much of an effect on me than when I was human.

Now I need blood to be really drunk.

-Hey, I know another place, somewhere you never went. I propose to her as she gets back in my car.

-How can you be so sure about that?

-It's a vampire place, humans need to be acompanied to get in. The Fallen Angel, it is called.

-Sounds good, let's go!

A few blocks away, we see the bar's neon sign: Two wings, one of an angel and one of a demon crowned by a half halo and a horn.

-'Can't believe I never noticed it. She mumbles to herself.

I park the car and jump out to open her door and help her to get out, as she can't walk very straight anymore.

-Hey Phil, you've found another angel for us? Igor, the doorman greets me from his spot beside the door.

-No, I'm just for him! Jean answers.

-I am still going to temporarily ask your hand, milochka. He adds and stamps blue angel wings on the back of her hand as she holds it out to him.

-How did you call her? I ask with faked offense while he stamps mine with red demon wings.

-Relax, it just means darling. He chuckles.

-I'll allow it this time, but watch out if it ever happens again! I joke, making him burst in laughters.

The guy could snap me in halves like a toothpick if he wanted to, I'm lucky he has some sense of humor.

Inside, the light coming from the street is absorbed by the heavy curtains blocking the windows and the only source of light are those red lightbulbs above the leather bench seats on the sides of the room and the ones lighting up the drink menu behind the bar.

-I can't see a thing. Jean whispers to me, causing all the clients (all the vampiric ones at least) to snicker under their breath.

Of course they heard her...

-Your eyes will adjust, don't worry.

-Hey, young Mister Collen, why don't you join me at my table?! Another man I know calls me.

-Jean, may I introduce you to Doctor Adelbert Von Stern.

-Oh, so you're from Germany! She remarks.

-I sure was born there, but when I left, it wasn't even called like that. He smiles, passing his fingers along his Lenin-like moustache, as he always does while talking about his younger years.

-And what kind of a doctor are you? She asks.

-Oh, what I learned is now vastly outdated. I would probably go to jail for applying some of those methods they used to teach. He chuckles. But one could say I am a vampire generalist.

-I'll go get some drinks, what do you want? I offer

-The house special vodka cranberry, please. The doctor asks.

-Dry martini, please.

I get to the bar, but still listen to Jean and my friend, it is always kind of touchy to bring a new human here. Adelbert is nice, but some of the other ones are rather snob.

-What's in the special? I hear her ask.

-Blood. They have the whole system to donate blood in an hidden room.

-Should I be afraid? She questions jokingly.

-No, they only take volunteers.

-Phil? Phiiil?! PHILIP! The barmaid repeats to tey to get my attention.

-Ah! What?

-If you came here, may I assume you wanted to order something. Otherwise you wouldn't have left your pretty girl over there. She finishes her sentence in a very less than friendly way.

-Oh, Marie, come on! You left me months ago. I try to argue

-One month ago! And because you were always seeing other girls.

Another resentful bird I shouldn't have slept with...

-It was only to get blood.

-There are lots of it here!

-But here, I have to pay for it!

-I own the place, you just had to ask!

-Good, so I can ask you for two house special vodka cranberries and a regular dry martini. Please.

-Arrogant de fils de pute... She mumbles God knows what in French and starts to prepare the drinks.

-Four pounds. She states when she is done.

-But I asked... I smile and slip a five pounds note on the counter. Keep the change.

-Of course I keep it! Now go, or I'll siphon every damn ounce of blood in your body to put it in my drinks!

-Try. I wink at her and pick the three glasses to bring them back to my table where I find Jean and the doctor both laughing their lungs out.

-What is it? I ask and give them their respective order.

-Apparently, you're an arrogant son of a bitch. Adelbert explains. According to Marie, of course... But if you ask me, she's only half wrong! He chuckles.

-You're not talking about my mother, at least? I ask and take the first sip of my drink.

Whatever he answers gets fuzzed by the feeling of the blood invading every single cell of my body in a euphoric wave.

-And there you can see one of the first things I have documented: Vampire drunkenness. One cannot get intoxicated if blood has not opened the way. I hear Adelbert explain once I snap my eyes back open to get focus out of my buzz.

-And afterwards? She asks.

-Alcool, opium, laudanum, cocaine... Anything will do, as long as it's paired with a bit of... Cranberry juice. I have not done much research with more modern drugs though.

-And by "research" he means he haven't tried it. I add. But yeah, they work too.

-Why have a body that can accommodate any substance without the least of side effects if it is not to act on it. And I can't ask my test subjects to do something I would not do myself.

-At least you're professional... I chuckle.

-Where is the loo in this place? Asks Jean as she gets up, only to lose balance and knock our table to the ground in a drunken attempt to stay on her feet.

-Oh no! Oh I'm so clumsy! She exclaims and gets down to pick up pieces of broken glass.

-It's alright, I'll take care of it, the toilets are the first door on the left.

She has barely left us that a much older vampire walks up to us from the other side of the club.

-Maybe it will teach you not to bring your human sluts in our places. She says, only inches away from my face.

-Regina, you spent the last two hundred years sleeping in your casket and you got up from your seat just to say this? Adelbert flies to my rescue.

She turns away from me only to grab him by the neck and put him up against the wall.

-You miserable little...

-Regina, if you refuse to leave my customers alone, at least agree to leave my bar! Marie jumps in and convinces the other woman to let go of my friend.

She spits on our feet before getting out and slamming the door behind her.

We help Marie to set the table back on its feet and to pick the shattered glass from the floor and Jean comes back right as we finish.

-Hey love, I think we will go now. I announce her.

-Hmm okay, are you taking me back to my place?

-Yes I'll drive you there, but I'm coming back to mother's home tonight.

I greet Adelbert and Marie goodbye, leaving her some more money because of the trouble we gave her.

The drive to her flat is pretty silent and it is only as I park in front of her building that she asks:

-Make me become like you, please.

-No. I answer unequivocally.

-Why?!

I sigh to give me some time to formulate a proper sentence.

-First, eternity's a bloody long time, second you've only seen the neat little glamorous part of being a vampire, third, it would put me in a kind of father figure regarding you, which I am not comfortable with, and finally you should think about it some more when you get sober.

She doesn't say a thing. God there it is, I upset her...

-Are you mad at me? I question.

-No, the things you said make sense... She mumbles and reach for the door.

-Wait, I'll give you my number. I get a pen from the glove box and write it on the back of her hand.

-Thank you. And good... She hesitates and cut her sentence short before looking at ger watch and adding with a little smile: Good morning, sleep well.

-Thanks. Be careful now.

-------------------------------------------------------

#phil collen #Phil collen fan fiction #Girl #def leppard #def leppard fan fiction

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thegameoflovetrilogy · 4 months

Text

Remember the first time He kissed You? It was better than sex, wasn't it!?

Hi everyone. Guess who's back...back again! No, my name is not Shady, but I love EMINEM. I hope you all had a great Valentine's Day and were reminded about love and being in love Love is beautiful, powerful, and dangerous...love can make you fly but it can also cut your wings. We all know this, but nothing can stop us once we get touched by Love. We go to the extreme just to hold a little longer to it. So I never try to make Love look bad instead I make a point of showing all these incredible moments that happen to all of us when we are in Love...as the first look, the first touch, the first time he calls you, and the best of all...the first Kiss!!! There's the nervous anticipation before it, the heart pounding with excitement and uncertainty. Then it happens, the lips meet, and time seems to stand still. It is a mix of joy, pleasure, fear, a moment that crats a memory, that will stay in your head long after the kiss is over. I want to show you the moment I captured in my book when Nick kissed Isabelle for the first time. Here is a sneak peek ...

The taxi dropped her off in front of the Torch tower. She entered the building, and the doorman came towards her. “I’m here to visit Mr. Walters,” Isabelle said. “Yes, I know he has already called ma’am. And your name?” “Isabelle, Isabelle Lucardi.” “Would you like to wait for Mr. Walters here, or you prefer to go upstairs?” “I will wait upstairs, thanks a lot.” The door was locked. “Damn it.” She thought. It was too late to go back down. She didn’t want to make herself look stupid in front of the doorman plus she stank of cigarettes and alcohol. She sat down on the floor, resting her back against the wall. She was tired. She closed her eyes for a second and tried to remember the moment they’d shared in the club.

“Are you ok, Isabelle, wake up?” She could hear Nick’s voice coming from somewhere far, far away… He was calling her name. She tried to open her eyes. At first, it all looked quite blurry… He was on his knees, shaking her shoulders, and his voice was filled with worry. “Yeah, what’s happening?” she rubbed her eyes. “You scared me to death” he whispered and moved gently the hair from her eyes. “I fell asleep. Sorry, Nick. I was only waiting for you and didn’t want to be a problem babe. Sorry. I probably should have gone home… How long have I been there?” “About 10 minutes, but you were sleeping so deep, you weren’t moving. I thought something had happened to you.” She could see in his eyes he was telling the truth. It warmed her heart. She couldn’t resist the temptation, so she touched his face gently and pulled slowly his head to hers until their lips met in a passionate kiss. Right there, in front of his door, in the lobby of his building, he got to kiss her properly for the first time. They looked at each other and he kissed her again, slowly exploring her mouth and kissing the corners of her lips. “Let’s go,” he said and opened the door. He pulled her gently to him, brushed her hair from her face, and kissed her nose. She was silent, but he could see the fire starting to light up in her eyes. He kissed her slowly and smoothly until he heard the little roar of pleasure she gave. She didn’t know, if it was pleasure or pain, she knew only one thing for sure, his kiss gave her the biggest thrill her body had ever known. Too stunned to protest, she felt the strong sensation of him, the sound of his heartbeat against her breast, and the hardness of his body enveloping her with his heat. His lips were firm now upon hers with hungry demand. He kissed her deeper and deeper until he took her breath away and everything started to spin around her. It was only a kiss, she thought. It was just a kiss that sent a fire to her blood…What would happen after? The thought alone made her blood start to cook and made her shiver at the same time. His hands moved up on her shoulders, and he tried to take off her t-shirt. She pushed him away, managed somehow to stand up from the couch, and took his hand in hers. Her eyes were on fire her breath was short and her lips were swollen from his kisses. “This way,” he said and led her to the bedroom.

I hope you enjoyed this and made you feel like being kissed for the first time again. I am sure you all want to know, what happens next...Well, I am telling you no more about this night. You need to find out for yourself. Just download the ebook and dive into it. I promise you, you will not be disappointed.

Thank you for reading my blogs and sharing your thoughts with me. Feel free to ask me any questions. I will be back soon to tell you more secrets about the Game of Love.

Love MaraJane

Support me by buying my ebook 💖

Buy on: Amazon Kindle

Buy on: My website

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justcallmefox89 · 1 year

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The Royal Romance: Cinderfella’s Adventure’s in Cordonia - Chapter Eleven

An AU of The Royal Romance with a male MC and a bisexual prince.

It’s too late to turn back now.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Rainbow colored lights illuminate the doorman’s face as he studies the trio’s IDs. “Cordonia, huh?”

“Yes, sir,” Hana squeaks out as a bouncer stamps her wrist with the club’s logo, a delicate cherry blossom.

“Isn’t the prince that’s in town right now from there?”

Drake grunts non-committally as he snatches back their IDs. “We good?”

“By all means.” The doorman ushers them inside with a smirk. “Enjoy your time with us this evening.”

Hana’s eyes go wide as they finally get inside and take in the atmosphere of the club. A spacious dance floor dominates most of the space, where a sea of club patrons grind and writhe against each other to the rhythm of a sultry beat. Scantily clad performers dance on raised platforms scattered throughout the club to the admiration of many clubgoers. Couples, and more than a few trios, kiss and grope each other in the semi-privacy of darkened booths that line the walls of the club at random intervals. Attractive bartenders smile and flirt as they tend to the customers that eagerly crowd around the bar.

“This. Is. Awesome,” Maxwell breathes, basking in the hedonistic nature of his surroundings.

“Focus, Beaumont,” Drake snaps, lightly smacking him on the back of the head. “We’re here to find Callum, or someone who knows him.”

Hana tugs on Drake sleeve and motions for him to bend down so he can hear her over the music. “Over by the bar, standing off to the left next to the man in suit. He looks different but…”

“It’s him.” Drake’s chest tightens. “It’s Callum.”

In his mind Callum had remained unchanged, the same bright, free-spirited, pain in the ass who had taken his life by storm all those months ago. But this man, while undeniably Callum, was not the man Drake remembered.

Gone was the long hair with its pink streaks and the colorful jewelry and scruffy facial hair. His black hair has been shorn off into a side-swept undercut with nary a pink strand in sight. His gauges and septum ring are a tasteful, understated silver, and he’s clean shaven, showing off high cheekbones and a sharp jawline. He’s wearing a plain grey henley and faded jeans that show off his weight loss of the past year; he looks leaner, more muscular and defined. The full lips that Drake had spent endless nights fantasizing about no longer tip up into a perpetual, easy-going grin, and Callum’s deep green eyes don’t sparkle with mischief anymore. This Callum is a stranger to him, but Drake still feels the same attraction, the same pull to him he always has.

“Daaamn.” Maxwell lets out a low whistle. “Take a look at our boy. So have we figured out what we’re going to say to him?”

Hana glances at Drake out of the corner of her eye. “Maybe Drake should go talk to him alone for now. All three of us at once might be a little overwhelming.”

Maxwell opens his mouth to protest but immediately snaps it closed at the pointed look Hana gives him.

“Are you sure?” Drake asks her. “Maybe you should go, you guys we’re closer than - ”

Hana lays a reassuring hand on his arm. “It will be fine, Drake. No matter what he looks like now, he’s still Callum.”

“You’re right.” Drake takes a steadying breath and nods once.

Hana gives him a gentle push. “Go on. I’ll keep Maxwell out of trouble while you go get our boy.”

Drake hesitates for a moment longer before charging into the crowd.

“Do you think that’s the best idea?” Maxwell asks, dancing closer to Hana.

“Maybe not,” she admits. “But I think it’s what Drake needs.”

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“Shit,” Drake mutters, struggling to break through the throng of bodies separating him from Callum. A girl breaks free from the crowd around the bar and stumbles into him, spilling her drink down his arm. Drake curses and looks away for a moment; long enough for Callum to slip away and disappear from sight.

A large hand slides over Drake’s hip and he’s roughly yanked back into a warm, muscular body. The hand runs over the curve of his hip and down the firm muscle of his thigh, while a second caresses his throat, calloused fingertips gently wandering over his rapidly throbbing pulse point. The heady scents of leather and amber invade Drake’s senses. Warm breath ghosts over his suddenly sensitive skin as the person holding him brings their mouth close to his ear.

“You’re an awful long way from home… Brat.”

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stories-poetry4all · 6 months

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🔥🔥I was saved by mafia boss.“You’re okay. You’re safe with me. I promise.”he stroked my hair and ran his hands down my back.🔥🔥

I hear my white noise app cut off on my phone and my alarm slowly getting louder. I wait for the chiming bells to stop before I roll over and hit the screen. With a deep breath, I muster the energy to get out of bed and drag myself to the shower.

Another glorious day in the life of waiting tables. I stop myself from skipping to the shower I’m so excited at the prospect of being yelled at by angry customers again today. People are just cranky lately.

After my shower, I make myself a quick breakfast, even though it’s late afternoon. Working the late shift means I miss the normal breakfast time, but let’s be real. Bacon can be enjoyed any time of the day.

Once the dishes are done and washed, I grab my keys and my bag, locking the door on my way out. I live by myself. It’s maybe not the best neighborhood, but all my neighbors are really nice, and we keep an eye on each other. When I turn around after locking my door, I see Mr. Turner walking up the steps to his apartment across the hall from mine.

“Hello, Miss Sephie. Going anywhere exciting?” He’s slowly climbing the stairs, with his groceries in hand. It’s Thursday, after all. Mr. Turner always stops by the grocery store on his way home on Thursdays.

“Hi, Mr. Turner. On my way to work. How was your day? Have any excitement at the hotel today?”

“No, not today, but I’m thankful for boring days, if I’m being honest.”

Mr. Turner worked the door at the most expensive hotel downtown. He’s been the doorman for 32 years and knows every single influential person in the city as a result.

“Boring days give you more time to find my Mr. Perfect, right? I like boring days too,” I chuckle.

Mr. Turner laughs as he reaches his door and sets his groceries down to unlock it. “Don’t you worry, Miss Sephie, I’ll find you the perfect man one day. You deserve it.”

“I don’t know about that, but I’ll take all the help I can get. Have a great night, Mr. Turner. I’ll see you in the morning and as always, if you need anything, you call me.” I waved goodnight to him as he walked in his apartment.

My smile lingers as I jog down the steps to the parking lot. Having great neighbors really can make a huge difference in your living situation.

Once I pull into the restaurant’s parking lot, I find my normal parking space taken. I grumble to myself as I am forced to park farther away from the building now. I am nothing, if not a creature of habit. Not getting my normal parking space means this is going to be a rough night. *Hooray for Thursdays.*

When I step out of my car, I notice the storm clouds slowly rolling in. Inhaling deeply, I breathe in the sweet scent of incoming rain and relish the last moment of sanity before my shift starts. *I can do this.*

It’s not just any Thursday. It’s the last Thursday of the month, which means that all the crime bosses in the city meet at this restaurant to discuss “business.” They reserve the back room and request that I serve them each time. I don’t know if it’s because I’m quiet, keep my head down most of the time, or if it’s because I can remember what each boss likes and doesn’t like, but they always request me. They always give me a fantastic tip, so it makes having to wait on known criminals somewhat manageable. Their tips are single-handedly funding my savings account, which means I’ll be able to move out of my questionable neighborhood sooner, rather than later.

“Hey Sephie. Are you coming inside or are you just going to stand by your car with your eyes closed like a psycho all night?”

“Shut-up, Max. I’m coming, I’m coming,” I say as I run to catch up to him. Max is the bartender and has his own fan club of women that come to the restaurant solely to be served drinks by him. His drinks aren’t special. He’s even admitted to watering down their drinks most days. They just want to stare at him while he smiles at them as he serves them their Cosmopolitans.

Max is tall, muscular, but a slender muscular. He looked like he could play in the NBA, not the NFL. His dirty blonde hair was shorter on the sides, but he was letting it grow longer on top. He said the women loved slightly longer hair these days, so he was conducting market research to see if longer hair got him more tips. Max had a boyish charm about him, but he knew how to use his emerald green eyes to get the ladies. One look from him and most women would swoon. I was apparently immune to that look. He tried it often on me, but I would laugh every time. He said I was good for his humility, if nothing else.

“Were you meditating just now? Do you need to find inner peace before the meeting tonight?” he teased as he opened the back door for me.

“I was trying to find the strength not to smack you, a-hole,” I laughed as I walked into the kitchen.

“Oh. You wound me.”

“I’m positive you will be able to find a woman to nurse your wounds, in…approximately 30 minutes,” I say as I look at my watch to see how long we have before the bar opens. From Thursday to Sunday, the women flock to the bar to see Max.

“But none of them will ever have my heart the way you do, my little gingersnap,” he says as he stands in front of me, leans into me, and gently tucks a loose curl behind my ear. He adjusts my thick braid over my shoulder and pretends to adjust the collar on my shirt.

I stare deeply into his big green eyes, as his fingers linger on my neck. Then I immediately break character into a fit of laughter as he also breaks and starts laughing.

“Go to work, Max.”

The black SUVs start arriving around 8 pm. Max is completely swamped with single women vying for his attention at the bar but still takes the time to run back to the kitchen like he’s a 5-year-old and yells, “THEY’RE HERE” and then runs back to the bar. I shake my head, laughing at his antics, take a deep breath, and steady myself for the night ahead.

The six bosses each come to this meeting with at least 2-4 additional people. Some are bodyguards, some are their children, and some are underbosses. The bosses are all very respectful, as are the bodyguards and the underbosses. It’s the children that I loathe. Sons of mafia bosses have the biggest egos I’ve ever encountered and worse, they feel entitled to act however they please. They’re handsy, they’re rude, and they all think that I should be throwing myself at them, simply because of who their fathers are.

Luckily, they don’t come to every meeting, but they’ll definitely be here tonight. Apparently, this meeting is extra important as the main boss. *the overlord? I don’t know what to call him. Lord King Boss? Feels right* – the Lord King Boss – will be here tonight. He rarely makes appearances in public, so I’m a little at a loss as to what’s so important that he would show up tonight, but I’m sure I’ll get snippets throughout the night. Because I’m always the one that takes care of this meeting, I know more about the goings on in the city than I probably should. I keep that information to myself, of course. I’m not an idiot.

There is a steady stream of food to the back room throughout the night and the alcohol flows freely. I’ve gotten four smacks to my ass in the first hour. All the boss’s eldest sons are there. Lucky me.

Around 9:30, two new bodyguards, who are quite possibly the biggest men I’ve ever seen, walk into the restaurant as I’m waiting for Max to fill my latest alcohol order. Walking in right behind them, I see a man I don’t recognize, but can’t see clearly as the lights are dim in the restaurant. He steps fully inside the door, and I can clearly see his face. He’s tall, surprisingly young for a Lord King Boss, dark hair, two-day old stubble that I find myself wondering what would feel like against my neck, and he turns to look my direction with the most piercing blue eyes I think I’ve ever seen. He catches me staring at him and a sly smirk comes across his face. Just then, Max steps up behind me and gently pushes my shoulder.

“Hey, you should go escort him to the back room. He might not know where to go. I’ll have your drinks ready when you get back.”

I take a sharp breath in, broken out of my daze, and practically stumble toward the men at the front door.

“Uh…hi, I’m guessing you’re here for the meeting?”

His intense gaze leaves my face to scan down my body briefly and discreetly, as he reaches down to adjust the cuffs of his shirt. He looks up again and nods once.

Okay, man of many words. This, I can handle.

“Please, follow me.”

He nods once more, and all five men follow me to the back. There were two more bodyguards behind him that I couldn’t see until the first two units stepped further into the restaurant.

Before I open the door to the back room, I turn around to face them, asking “may I take your drink orders, gentlemen?”

One of the first bodyguards says, “yes, water for all of us, please.” His very thick, very Russian accent is very apparent.

I was surprised by his answer, so I cocked my head to the side, letting a “different” slip out before I realized I had said anything. My cheeks immediately flushed as I realized I had said the quiet part out loud.

“I’m so sorry. I mean no disrespect,” I said as I stared at the floor and stepped to the side while opening the door for them.

The first two bodyguards entered the room first, scanned the entire room, then nodded. The blue-eyed Lord King Boss stepped up closer to me while his bodyguards were scanning, that sly smirk on his face once again, and leaned in close enough that I could smell his intoxicating cologne.

“None taken,” he whispered, his Russian accent detectable as he stepped in front of his bodyguards to the welcoming greetings of the entire room.

“*What the fuck is wrong with me*,” I muttered to myself as I rushed back to the bar to get those drinks and to add five more waters to the order.

The mood in the room palpably changed after Mr. Lord King Boss joined the meeting. Everyone was very tense and very serious. What had happened while I was getting those drinks? I did a quick head count as I delivered each individual drink order. Ok, nobody died while I was away. This is a good sign.

I placed a refill of bourbon in front of one of the boss’s sons. Anthony, I think his name was. This was Anthony’s eleventh bourbon of the evening. Max knew better than to water down these drinks, so Anthony was getting the good stuff, at full strength. In layman’s terms, Anthony was drunk off his ass .

No sooner had the glass hit the table and Anthony reached back and smacked my ass with such force that I was thrown forward onto the table, giving the men across from Anthony a full view down my shirt. I caught myself on the table and pushed myself back upright, only to meet those steel blue eyes once again. Only this time he wasn’t smirking. Instead, his jaw was clenched.

I could feel my cheeks turning fully red as I apologized under my breath and quickly left the room. As soon as the door closed, I rushed through the kitchen and out the back door. Ugh, I hated the last Thursday of the month.

I walked to the dumpster and back a couple of times when I heard the kitchen door opening. One of the giant bodyguards came out first, quickly followed by the new guy. I stopped my pacing, not knowing how I was going to walk past him to get back to the restaurant.

He turned to his bodyguard, who handed him a cigarette and a lighter. Lazily putting the cigarette between his lips, he tilted his head down slightly as he cupped his hands around his face to light it. When the flame ignited, his face was illuminated, revealing that his blue eyes were focused on me. I was still frozen in the same spot, wondering how I was going to walk casually by this very powerful man back into the restaurant.

*Oh, for fuck’s sake, just do it. After all, you have a job to do, Sephie.*

I took a deep breath and walked up to the back door. I kept my gaze down until just before I reached the two men, but quickly glanced up and gave them the best smile I could muster, before reaching for the door. Just as my hand was about to make contact with the door, he reached out and gently grabbed my wrist, causing me to look at him in fearful confusion.

He must’ve seen the fear in my eyes because he immediately let go and raised both of his hands.

“Hey, not gonna hurt you. I just want to ask you some questions,” he said. His blue eyes, now darker, were so intense that it felt like he might be looking into my soul.

“Um, sure. What can I help you with? Did you want to order some food? Can I get you more than water?”

He let out a small chuckle, as did his bodyguard. What was so funny about me doing my job?

“No. But thank you. You’re very good at your job, but I don’t allow my men to drink when they’re working, and I never touch alcohol.”

“Oh…okay. Um, what kind of questions?”

“How well do you know those men in the meeting?”

“Um, I mean, define well? I’m always the waitress that serves them when they have their meetings. I know the older men by name, as they’re here every time. The younger men I have a harder time remembering because they aren’t always here. The sons aren’t always here either…thankfully” I whispered, once again realizing too late that I had said it out loud instead of in my head. “I know them more by their drink and food orders than anything else. I can tell you exactly what they like and don’t like when it comes to food and alcohol, but in the interest of self-preservation, that’s all the information I divulge on those men.”

He smirked at me and asked, “are they always so rude to you?”

“The older men, never. They’re very respectful. Most of the underbosses too are very respectful unless they drink too much. I’m not sure if their bodyguards know how to speak, because now that I think about it, I’ve never heard them say a word. The sons, though? What you saw earlier is a normal occurrence. Especially when they’re all here. It’s like they try to outdo each other.”

He squinted his eyes slightly as he inhaled the smoke from his cigarette. Holding his breath for a second before turning his head to blow the smoke into the air, away from me, his eyes never leaving mine. Why did I feel like I could look in those eyes for hours and never get tired of it?

“Thank you, uhhh…I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name?”

“Sephie.”

“Sephie? That’s an unusual name.”

“It’s short for Persephone. Most people have a hard time pronouncing it, so I just shortened it. Also, those who know are generally nervous once they find out I’m named after the Queen of the Underworld,” I said, looking down at my fidgeting hands. I really loved my name, but it did come with a weird history.

“Thank you, Persephone. You’ve been very insightful. I’m pleased to have met you tonight,” he said as he extended his hand to me.

I hesitantly placed my hand in his. He gently turned my hand over and brought it up to his lips. When his lips connected to the back of my hand, it was like fireworks went off in my stomach.

I tried not to be obvious about the sharp inhale I took as he kissed the back of my hand, so I said, “yes, you too…mister?” as I looked at him inquisitively.

“Adrik. You can call me Adrik.”

After my short interlude outside, I returned to work and tried my best to act like nothing happened. Anthony had apparently been chastised while I was away because he kept his hands to himself. This was new. Did Mr. Lord King Boss Adrik threaten him after I first went outside? Anthony had never stopped his juvenile antics before tonight.

I think I like Mr. Lord King Boss Adrik.

Most of the men had finished with their meals but were still deep in discussions. The room was tense, to say the least. I was busy picking up empty plates and taking them back to the kitchen. I recruited Max to help me pick up plates, so I wouldn’t have to make so many trips. Just as he was about to enter the room, one of the bodyguards stopped him.

“Excuse me, sir. Only the lovely lady is allowed in the room,” he said with his giant hand on Max’s shoulder. Max wasn’t a small guy either. He obviously worked out regularly and was well over six foot tall, but he looked small next to that absolute unit of a bodyguard.

I looked back at Max and smiled. “It’s okay, Max. I’ll get them. Thank you for offering to help.”

I let out a sigh as I walked into the room. I glanced in Adrik’s direction, only to notice his blue eyes staring at me once again. I quickly tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear and made myself busy.

After depositing another round of dirty dishes in the kitchen sinks, I walked out the kitchen door on my way back to the meeting room. In the back hallway, between the kitchen and the back room, I was met by none other than Anthony. He was coming out of the restroom, completely drunk, and acting like he might fall at any moment. I tried to hurry past him, but he caught my arm and pulled me back to stand right in front of him.

“Please let go of my arm. I have work to do,” I said, trying to pull away from him. His vice-like grip on my arm only got tighter. Did bourbon give him some kind of superhuman strength? Seriously. How was his grip so strong?

“C’mon, you know you’d much rather go into the bathroom with me for a quickie,” he said as he leaned in to try to kiss me, pushing me up against the wall so I couldn’t easily get away from him. Ugh, his breath was horrendous and smelled like he’d drank the entire bar that night. Truthfully, he’d probably had half of it, at least. I turned my head to avoid his lips, which only served to piss him off. He said something in Italian, which I didn’t understand because of his slurring, but he grabbed my other arm, again with his vice-like grip. He stepped even closer to me, as if that was possible. I could feel his entire body pressed against mine. I could even feel that he was getting aroused at standing so close to me.

He didn’t say anything for a moment. He just scanned up and down my body, his breath getting quicker, his pupils dilating. He released one arm and reached up to my face. With the back of his hand, he lightly grazed my cheek. I turned my head, trying once again to get away from him. He sighed.

“Do you know who I am? Do you know how many girls would love to be in your position right now?”

“Then why don’t you go find one of them. I’ll gladly tag her in,” I said.

“You have a smart mouth. I’ve always heard that redheads were firecrackers. Maybe someone needs to teach you a lesson.”

“No thanks. School really wasn’t my thing. I probably won’t pay attention if you try to teach me anything.” I was hoping to make him frustrated enough that he would move, and I could escape his grasp. Even if he lost a little focus, I was preparing to deck him and then I was going to make a break for it. I thought about screaming but didn’t want to cause a scene. The entire back room was armed with enough firepower that they could level the entire block if it came to it, so making a scene wasn’t my finest idea. I was also hoping someone would come out of the kitchen, but most of the staff had already left for the night, as it was a slow night in the front of the restaurant. Max was still at the bar, and he likely wouldn’t hear me anyway. I had to figure out how to get out of this mess on my own.

“There’s that smart mouth again,” he said as he ran his hand up my arm and slowly wrapped it around my neck. “Do you know what I do to women that don’t know when to shut up?” he asked as his grip slowly tightened around my neck. My entire body tensed, and my eyes went wide. I knew what was about to happen.

I felt my air being slowly cut off. *Well, shi*.* I definitely didn’t expect this to happen tonight. With my one free arm, I tried hitting him, but he had pressed his body against mine so tightly that I couldn’t get any kind of leverage on him, so my fist was practically useless.

“That’s it. I like it when they struggle. I like it when they beg me to stop.”

Perhaps my smart mouth wasn’t the attribute I thought it was. My mind was racing as I was trying to figure out how to get away from him when I heard the door to the back room open. Footsteps were approaching. No, multiple footsteps were approaching. One last feeble attempt to hit him and suddenly he wasn’t there anymore, and I was on the ground coughing and gasping for air.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and instantly panicked. I scooted away as quickly as I could.

“Whoa, whoa, Persephone. It’s okay. I won’t hurt you. You’re safe now.”

I raised my gaze and was met with those blue eyes once again. They were darker in this light, but showing nothing but concern, as he reached out to me one more time. This time, I didn’t move away. He put one arm around my shoulders, and I leaned into his chest. I realized I was crying. He gently stroked my hair and told me everything was going to be alright.

The next thing I knew, he hooked his other arm under my legs and picked me up, carrying me back to the kitchen. It was empty when we walked in. He walked over to one of the food prep tables and sat me down on the table.

Standing in front of me, he produced a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to me, his hands never leaving my thighs. I stared at his hands while I wiped the tears from my face and tried to compose myself.

I felt his hand, gently, under my chin. He raised my head and tilted it all the way back so he could look at my neck.

“You’re going to have a gnarly bruise tomorrow.”

“Perks of being a redhead. You can look at me hard enough and I’ll bruise.”

He chuckled softly and I let out a laugh as well. It might not be the healthiest coping mechanism, but humor made everything better for me. I’d endured some hard times and made it through because I never lost my sense of humor.

Adrik tenderly wrapped one of my loose curls around his finger, while he scanned my face, concern still in his eyes.

“Redheads have a special place in this world. Legend has it they stole the fires of He*ll and that they carry the mark of Cain.”

“It’s all true. I also steal souls, but only on the weekends. Work has been busy lately and I have a surplus of souls, with not enough storage space right now.”

A wide smile came across his face as he laughed. Good grief this man was handsome. I found myself smiling in response to his laughter and in that brief moment I had forgotten the events that led us to this moment.

“You are a unique woman, Persephone.”

“Yeah, that’s true too. Redheads are only 2% of the world’s population and of that 2%, only 2% have an eye color as unique as mine. So, basically, I’m a unicorn.”

I looked into his eyes as I was talking. His smile faded slightly and the intensity returned. He stared into my eyes long enough that I got nervous. I dropped my gaze and started fidgeting with my hands.

My body does this weird thing in response to trauma. It’s like I’m shivering, but I’m not cold. Of course, this was the moment that started up. My therapist had informed me years earlier that it was a somewhat normal trauma response. It hadn’t happened in years, so I wasn’t expecting it to start. I couldn’t get away from Adrik fast enough and he felt my legs shaking.

“Are you cold, solnishko? I can get you my jacket,” he said, his hands running up my arms to cover my bare skin.

“No, it’s…I’m fine,” I said as I hopped off the table. “I should get back to work. Thank you for helping me.” I folded my arms under my chest and walked out of the kitchen without looking back.

The past always has a way of showing up at the most inopportune times.

When I walked back into the meeting room, it was completely empty. Everyone had vanished. I can’t say I was disappointed by this development. I busied myself with gathering up the empty glasses and the few plates I hadn’t managed to clear already to take them to the kitchen. I hear Max whistling as he’s walking down the hallway toward the back room.

“Hey, why did everyone leave in such a hurry?” he asked as he walked in and started to help me clear the tables.

“No idea,” I said. I kept my gaze down, as I was once again on the verge of tears, trying desperately to keep them in so I wouldn’t cry in front of Max. I hated crying in front of people.

“That was weird. I saw two of those giant bodyguards that came in last take a very drunk guy out front and beat the living shit out of him, then walk back inside like nothing happened.”

I dropped the glass in my hand and looked at Max, wide-eyed.

“They did what??”

“Yeah, it was comical. And somewhat sad. But mostly comical. I think it was one of the guys you said was always an asshole to you, so I may or may not have cheered as the bodyguards came back in the restaurant.”

“Max, you have to be careful. You know who these people are.”

“I know, I know, but I was cheering for the Karma that guy was clearly receiving. Hey, wait a minute – what the hell happened to your arms?? And your neck??”

“This was the reason for the Karma.”

“Holy shit, Sephie! Are you okay? What happened? Why didn’t you come get me?”

“I’m fine. That guy is always handsy, but he took it to a new level tonight. I might’ve provoked him slightly and made things worse, so he choked me.”

“No, no, no. Don’t you do that. Don’t you take any of the blame on yourself. That guy is a dick and he had every blow to the face he got tonight coming for putting his hands on you.”

“Yeah. I guess you’re right. I just want to close up so I can go home. I’m really tired.”

“Why don’t you just go? I’ll close everything up.”

“You know I’m not going to leave you here by yourself, Max. You might be a big, strong guy, but that’s still a jerk move. Everyone else is gone already.”

“You’re so stubborn you’d argue with the devil himself.”

“True story.”

Max just shook his head and laughed as he grabbed the last glass off the table and headed to the kitchen.

We quickly got everything cleaned up, put away, and ready for tomorrow’s lunch shift. We’d both been working at the restaurant for a few years now, so we had a routine down and worked together seamlessly. It always took us less time than everyone else to get our list of chores done in the restaurant before closing. We usually laughed and picked at each other during the whole process, so time passed quickly.

We walked out of the back door around 1 am. I stood and waited while he locked the back door, then we walked to our cars together. I was so busy looking at the still cloudy sky that I hadn’t noticed the black SUV parked between Max’s car and my car. I stopped dead in my tracks.

Max hadn’t noticed it yet, as he was looking at his phone. Probably texting whatever girl he was planning on hooking up with that night. He walked a few steps ahead of me, then noticed I was no longer beside him.

“Hey…. wha….” he said as he turned to find me frozen in place, a look of horror on my face as I was hoping the person in that SUV was not who I thought it was. Max looked at my face and then spun around to see the SUV parked between our cars. “Ohhhhh shit,” he said as he took a couple of steps back toward me. Without looking, he pushed me directly behind him as he watched the back door open.

I couldn’t see over Max’s shoulder and I was too scared to peek around him.

“What do you want?” Max yelled. I could feel him trying to be brave for me, but I could also feel how every muscle in his back was tense and rock hard.

“Please, don’t be scared. I only wish to pay Persephone for her excellent service tonight,” a deep and very calm voice said, his Russian accent evident. I recognized that voice. I peeked around Max’s shoulder and sure enough, Mr. Lord King Boss Adrik was walking slowly toward us.

I put my hand on Max’s back and said, “it’s okay, Max. He helped when…you know, Karma. It was his bodyguards.” Max visibly relaxed and inhaled deeply.

“Oh, thank God, I’m not gonna die tonight,” he said under his breath.

I giggled and reached up and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

“You know I got you, gingersnap.”

I walked toward my car and Adrik, who was watching me intently.

“Have you been waiting this whole time? You could’ve just come back into the restaurant. Or dropped it off tomorrow.”

“I had business to take care of. We drove back by and your cars were still here, so we waited. It wasn’t long,” he said as he handed me a fat stack of cash.

“Wha…noooo. This is too much. I can’t accept this,” I said, trying to hand the stack of hundred-dollar bills back to him.

“Please. You earned it,” he said as he once again gently grabbed my chin and tilted my head back so he could see my now darker bruise on my neck.

I could hear him curse under his breath but didn’t quite catch what he said as he inspected my bruise.

“It’s okay, really. I’m fine. I’ve had worse, honestly.”

His eyebrows furrowed into a frown as he scanned my face, once more tucking a loose curl behind my ear. Without realizing it, I leaned into his touch. My eyes closed and I took a deep breath. Just like when we were in the kitchen, I had a moment of complete peace. He placed his palm against my cheek, his thumb lightly caressing my face. I relished in the feeling, in the quiet, in the warmth that I felt in my entire body any time he touched me.

“Are you okay to drive home, solnishko?” His question broke me from my trance, and I momentarily forgot where I was.

“What? Oh. Yes. Yes, I’m fine. Sorry,” I said, quickly looking down at my bag to dig my keys out.

“No need to apologize. I think you need more of that in your life,” he said with that sexy smirk back on his face. If he only knew how correct he actually was…

I woke the next morning, well before my alarm went off, feeling like my throat was on fire. I stretched and immediately regretted it, as my entire body felt like I had been run over by a very large vehicle. Repeatedly.

“Well, that sucked,” I said out loud to myself. Instantly regretting my decision to speak, I started coughing uncontrollably.

I got myself to stop coughing and got out of bed.

*No more outside thoughts, Sephie. Just inside thoughts.*

My phone started ringing as I was walking out of the bathroom. I looked at the caller ID. It was Mr. Turner from across the hall. I immediately answered the call.

“Hey Mr. Turner, is everything alright?” I said in a half-whisper, hoping I didn’t cause another coughing attack.

“Good morning, Miss Sephie. Listen, I don’t want to alarm you, but there was a very large man standing outside your door this morning when I left for work. I asked him what his business was there and he said he’d been assigned to guard you, but he wouldn’t tell me anything else.”

“Well, that’s weird,” I said, biting my lower lip. I tried to think why anyone would be “assigned” to me. Reflexively, my hand went to my neck. “Mr. Turner, was this man the size of a house, with black hair, crew cut and a beard?”

He chuckled and said, “that’s a fitting description of him, yes. You know him?”

“I think I might have an idea. It’s okay, Mr. Turner. He’s one of the good ones. At least I think so.”

“Ok, Miss Sephie, if you say so. If you need anything, you call me right away. I got my old buddy’s son, on the force, on speed dial. I’ll have him to your place in no time if you need him.”

“Thank you, Mr. Turner. I really appreciate it, but I hopefully won’t need that. I promise I’ll call you if it’s not who I think it is.”

We said our goodbyes and I walked to my balcony door. I peeked outside and noticed the black SUV parked in the parking lot below, a few parking spaces from my car once again. The windows were tinted so dark that I could only see a giant hand resting on the steering wheel. As quietly as I could, I walked to the front door and looked through the peep hole. I couldn’t see all of him, but you can’t mistake a physique like that. It was one of the bodyguards that had delivered Anthony’s karma the night before.

I opened the door. He turned around as I said, “good morning, sir. Can I get you a coffee?”

He smiled warmly. “Good morning, Miss Sephie. Thank you, but I’m fine.”

“Don’t be a martyr. You can’t have slept much if you’ve been here since Mr. Turner from across the hall left. Wait, are you on meth? You’re on meth, aren’t you? Is that how you’re awake right now? Don’t lie to me. You might be four times as big as me, but I know kung fu.”

That got a belly laugh out of him.

“No, ma’am. Not on meth. I still have all my teeth – see?” he said in his thick Russian accent, showing me his teeth as proof of his abstinence from meth.

“Touché. But you’ve still gotta be tired. C’mon. You basically saved my life last night. The least I can do is make you a cup of coffee.”

His warm smile stretched across his face once more and he ran his hand through his buzzed hair. “Sure, Miss Sephie. That would be great,” he said.

“Does your pal in the parking lot want one too? You know, while I’m at it, can I get your names? For the coffee order, of course.”

He chuckled and said, “I’m Viktor. The guy in the parking lot is Andrei.”

“How very Russian of you both. Please, Viktor, come inside while I make the coffee. It’s weird to have you standing outside my door. I already give my neighbors enough gossip as it is without a gigantic Russian statue outside my door.”

Another belly laugh from Viktor made me smile as well. He looked like he could kill you with his mind, but I could tell that Viktor had a heart of gold. He walked into my apartment, slightly nervous, but scanning the room like the dutiful guardian he is.

I busied myself in the kitchen, first pulling my wild, previously slept in hair into a bun on top of my head, then I set about making coffee.

“Are you hungry, Viktor? I can make breakfast too. I don’t even know what time it is right now, but it’s always bacon time in this house. Can Andrei come inside too, or do I need to make his to go?”

“No, please, Miss Sephie, that is not necessary.”

“Um, hello. Saved my life. Least I can do. We’ve been over this, Viktor. Don’t argue with me. You won’t win.”

He laughed, shaking his head. He just said one word, “ryzhiy.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for a translation.

He chuckled. “Redhead,” he responded.

“Damn skippy. Now how do you take your coffee? With the crushed-up bones of your enemies? Or without?”

This time, he slapped the counter he laughed so hard. He threw his head back and cackled.

“You are a funny woman, Miss Sephie.”

“It’s a gift.”

I set a coffee cup in front of him, along with milk and sugar, so he could make it the way he wanted.

“Are you going to call Andrei to come up here too? Or do I have to make you follow me out to the parking lot to deliver his coffee?”

“I will call him.”

“Smart man, Viktor. Smart man,” I said as I winked at him and set about getting the pans needed to cook breakfast.

In seemingly no time at all, there was a knock on my front door. Viktor immediately stood up from the bar at the kitchen counter where he was sitting. His hand instinctively going to his gun at his hip. He held his other hand up to me, indicating that I should stay where I was and to be quiet. For a moment, I struggled to breathe, wondering if it was someone other than Andrei at my door.

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opposedthumbs-blog · 2 years

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Nirvana 1992

Is my friend Dave who invited me maybe 1992 Nirvana was huge already but he said that they were going to be playing in a small club outside of Portland that’s crazy they’re a huge beer now on but I went with him casino I had seen him once when they were in small clubs but now they were they were famous teen Spirit and all us so we went to to the club via and you know we got there and obviously it’s a madhouse a madhouse of a place everybody’s there cause I’m a fuck your father it’s a small little club too I don’t know how late they are definitely sold out and I don’t know how they even got booked into such a small place when they’re busy playing arena Zinzer but I knew all of the doorman so I got him to let me in And so we threaded our way through the crowd packed crowd and up to the bar and I asked Larry the bartender if this is for real is is Nirvana really playing and he shrugged his shoulder and that’s what I’ve heard but other for keeping it pretty hush-hush how they got all this accomplished and haven’t seen him yet somebody else do the sound check and Dave and I ordered our drinks and we started slowly making our way towards the front of the stage it took an hour for them to come out and in that time the crowd pressed in thick The building was over capacity for sure they took the stage an hour later and everybody screamed and cheered as the lights went up except for me because I I I was like I said I’ve seen Nirvana before and this was not Nirvana I mean they’re not even close they were dressed the same and they had kind of similar haircuts and stuff in their gear looked the same but it was not Nirvana and I looked around expecting everybody else to you know freak out too I mean like even if you haven’t seen him before you seen the music video this is not her Cobain but everybody’s freaking out and yelling and shrieking and calling out songs to play and I couldn’t believe it they didn’t they couldn’t see that it wasn’t him it wasn’t them so I look over at Dev he was also like just cheering and hollering like there’s no leak like there’s no problem and he gives me this big grin and I kind of give them a look of incredulity and then they start to play and they sound exactly like Nirvana to the note to the tone to the words it sounds like them and the more I the more I watch the stage I start looking at the stage and end it looks like maybe it is then the more I watch the more it looks like them what I’m sure it’s not and think maybe I was wrong that can’t be right

#texts from last night

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chiwhorei · 3 years

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𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭

cross-posted to Ao3!

pairing: issei “horse cock” matsukawa x fem!reader

genre: smut, 18+ mdni

word count: ~4.4k

tags: stripper!issei, stripper!seijoh, roommate!oikawa, tendoukawa (bc @heauxzenji said it an it’s now the only ship in my head) dry humping, lap dance, a little corruption, spitting, public, alcohol and recreational drug consumption (weed and coke), spanking, degradation, hardly edited

a/n: howdy! this is my contribution to the smut pile’s western collab and it is so incredibly late but what the hell else is new. the masterlist for the collab can be found here! @messwriting and myself, in true chaotic duo fashion, built an absolutely depraved multiverse of seijoh strippers: the lawbreakers. lee, i love you so much. this journey we’ve been on the past few months has been chaotic and beautiful, and there’s plenty more to come.

the multiverse: hanamaki || iwaizumi || kyoutani

hymn: save a horse (ride a cowboy) by big & rich

and all the girls say— save a horse, ride a cowboy

A fog of smoke burns in your eyes. The room around you feels like it could curl in on itself, four walls marked sparsely with dusty furniture, the smell of weed and cash.

You fix your gaze onto a long, diagonal tear in the leather couch across the must and g-strings, the rip in upholstery is stuffed with wrinkled one dollar bills.

It feels like observing an exhibit at a museum, or a zoo. Lines of coke, random dustings of pot and discarded swisher tobacco, too many open handles of liquor. Sitting on an end table is a bright pink teddy bear with a cowboy hat on it’s head.

How the fuck did you get here?

***

You shift your weight on either foot, arches aching already. The pair of jeans and top you had planned on wearing tonight were all but ripped off of your body, casual boots thrown down the hallway with sadistic glee and replaced with heels that are taller and a dress much too short.

“Damnit, you’re walking too fast.” Your appointed captor turns around dramatically, stopping in his tracks to watch you catch up. The cigarette pressed into his mouth cards in two fingers and extended towards you as a peace offering. You take the half gone stick and bring it to your lips.

Tendou’s mission was simple, drag his boyfriends roommate and best friend-- possibly kicking and screaming-- out for a night she won’t soon forget.

“Were those really necessary, Satori?” You point with the remnants of his cigarette and he feigns a kicked-puppy expression, looking down dramatically at his all black outfit contrasting drastically with a flashy pair of brownish-red cowboy boots.

“I am being a supportive partner. Plus Tooru and I wear the same shoe size.” His hair is bright outlined by the neon sign above the building.

You inhale smoke and nicotine, eying him over once again before continuing.

“Does it bother you when he’s dancing on all of those horny women?” The cigarette butt falls to the ground, you snuff it out while exhaling remnant smoke from your nose, the bachelorette party walking towards the door in a parade screaming emphasizes your question.

Tendou pulls you close, mouth pressing against your neck to bite against the skin. You jerk away from his embrace, with a feeble push against his chest to match the scoff scratching against your throat. The tall red head above you, currently leaned into the dip on your neck, always has an air of vulgar humor and zero personal space.

“Watching my pretty little boyfriend grinding on women that would never stand a chance with him,” he pulls away just in time to catch another eye roll before grabbing your wrist to pull you inside, “I think it’s hot as fuck.”

You stumble behind him, the doorman recognizing your friend immediately and lets the pair of you through tacky saloon doors. You catch a glimpse of the tattered sign standing right next to the entrance.

Lawbreaker’s Presents: The Guys of the Wild West

The club is drastically warmer than outside, the chill in your barely covered limbs thaws in a mixture of stage lights and body heat.

You sigh deeply as the sound of country music fills your ears, seemingly in rhythm with the squawking of drunken hens sipping on tall flutes of champagne. Thinking back briefly to when you first signed the lease with Oikawa, you remember he wore glasses and a sweater vest.

He said he worked as a “fitness instructor.”

“Ah, my two favorite people in the whole world,” Tooru’s ears just have been burning at your recollection, as your roommate appears in front of you in nothing but white spandex shorts and a pair of shiny boots to match, a tray of drinks is placed to the side on an unoccupied table. The white cowboy hat on his head gleamed in the low light of the club, rhinestone star shimmers-- you want to shy away from the bright refraction hitting your eyes.

He looks in his element, completely confident and cocksure as he walks around in only underwear and body oil.

“Aren’t you glad you came out tonight? I promise, you’re going to have a great time.” Oikawa melts into Tendou’s side, he looks just as content in the current atmosphere. Tendou seems at home in any ecosystem he wanders into.

“The show starts in 15, go get yourself a drink and try to pull the stick out of your ass. I’m going to, uhm, wish Tooru an extra special good luck.”

“I really didn’t need to know that, thanks. Tooru, break a leg.” You turn around at the sight of the wandering, tattooed hand on it’s journey south on Oikawa’s abdomen and retreat to the bar. You aren’t shocked by the display, not hardly, not with the two of them using almost every surface in your apartment as a debauched playground.

The space around you is emptier than you imagined it would be, but there is still time before the night actually starts. The bartender approaches just as you sit down on one of the wooden stools, every fixture around you is designed to look like an old saloon-- save for the strobing lights and dj booth.

You order something strong and amber, partially to stay in-theme, partially for the nerves settled in your stomach that draft beer wouldn’t be able to curb.

The woman smiles brightly and turns to pour your liquor, leaving you to pick at a cocktail napkin and await your friend’s return.

“You’re Shittykawa’s roommate.” A stranger's voice is deep and bellowing, sounding high above your ear. You swivel in your seat, gaze meeting a tanned chest instead of a set of eyes. Trailing upwards past thick black tattoos and an unavoidable pair of silver nipple rings.

You can feel the muscles in the back of your neck as they strain to meet his chocolate brown stare, he looks amused as you all but gawk at him.

“Yes, uh, I am. And you’re, uhm--” the train of thought you try to hang onto derailed completely by a devastating smile, “one of Tooru’s co-workers?”

If his smile wasn’t enough, his laugh could level the building around you. Your new friend taps the black Stetson against the bar top before putting it back on his head. He gestures broadly to his attire, or lack thereof, with another disarming and smooth chuckle.

“What gave that one away, darlin’?” You realize how stupid your question sounded, mentally kicking yourself but trying desperately not to show it on your face.

Long, thick legs are wrapped in a pair of leather chaps, the tight fabric hides nothing even if it covers most of his lower half. A matching vest hangs open on his chest, the muscles in his arms look bigger than your head. He seems huge in presence and physique, your own form is a shrinking violet below him.

“Your drink, dear. Double Jack n’ Coke.” The bartender slides a glass towards you, and you accept it with a gracious smile. The distraction is definitely appreciated, any excuse to break the eye contact that has you dissolving like lye.

“Jack n’ Coke, a gal after my own heart.” You choke, a coupling of small coughs break out of your chest. You curse your bodies reaction, you don’t even know--

“You’re name, uh, w-what’s your name.” Casual conversation seems like the best option, because it’s only been two minutes with the almost-naked Casanova and there’s a gnawing feeling that you don’t want him to walk away.

You blame it on the alcohol not yet even running through your veins.

“Call me anything you want, pretty girl, but my name’s Issei.”

A smile creeps from one end of your mouth to the other. His presence is jarring to say the least, but there’s something about the way his teeth peek out past curled lips that makes you want to lean in instead of away.

Tendou calls your name, effectively pulling you out of Issei’s orbit and reminding you where you are. Heat flushes in waves on your face as Tendou wraps his long arms around your shoulders from behind. Acknowledging your new friend with a pointed, “Howdy partner,” before turning to order his own drink.

“Something sweet please, and strong.” You hear his voice singing to the bartender but still face Issei, having his attention is more intoxicating than whiskey. You want him to talk to you, to ask you questions, to grace you with that smile over again.

You feel the ability to breathe escaping when Issei leans into you impossibly close, his hand enclosing around your back and pulling you in so slightly you could swear you imagined it.

“It was nice to meet you. Make sure I hear ya’ out there, darlin.”

You’re left almost falling from the bar stool, watching as Issei strides toward the back. The way his hips sway is unfair in every--

“Hey,” Tendou’s fingers come up to snap in front of your face, “Didya hear me? Let’s go take our seats.”

That’s right; you feel like you’ve just run a marathon, heart beating erratically at the briefest interaction, your night hasn’t even started yet.

You’re dragged directly towards the front of the stage and sat in a small two person table. You agreed to the night out between gritted teeth, hauled to the uber with absolute defiance; but most of your protest has fizzled away-- definitely not due to a pair of deep brown eyes and planes of perfectly tanned skin-- as you get comfortable next to the boisterous bridal party. You can hear their idle, drunken chatter at your back.

“I heard they call one of the dancers ‘Mad Dog’. Apparently he’s totally feral.”

“One of them is nicknamed the ‘Big Tease’, he really likes the pretty little brides~”

“Oh yeah? Well there’s one dancer called ‘Horse Cock’. I’m going to go home with him.”

The women behind you howl with laughter, enjoying their friend’s last night of freedom. The straw in your drink twirls idly, thoughts drifting with each turn of the plastic against your liquor. Surely, Issei had just intended a friendly introduction, he wouldn’t be raking in tips by being unapproachable.

Friendly, you decide, repeating it to yourself until the lights drop and a black curtain is pulled up, he was just being nice.

* * *

The show starts out mostly how you would expect. Through a few sets, toned, beautiful guys take their clothes off and fling articles at the screaming, panting crowd. The table next to you gets the most attention, bridal parties, you assume, would be the prized cash cow.

Oikawa comes out in the most obnoxious, white and teal outfit and strips into nothing but a thong and boots. Every inch of his skin sparkles, the cause becoming obvious when he jumps down to the audience and swivels his hips and ass right into your lap. Your hand comes up to his hip reflexively to brace yourself-- of course, body glitter.

You watch on at the sweaty writhing of the most beautiful men you have ever seen in real life. The atmosphere around you is absolutely contagious, it’s impossible not to fall into the rhythm, losing inhibitions with every stray piece of fabric as it’s tossed into the sea of women.

Just as you lean over to Tendou to admit that you’re enjoying yourself, the next song blasts loudly from the speakers. The beat vibrates your table, soaking into every nerve, but is almost drowned out completely by the shrieking from every patron around you. They must know what’s coming.

Looking back up front, you realize why the crowd is losing their minds. The man that commanded your attention at the bar is even more alluring now. His strut to center stage is deliberate, flashing smiles and winks to no one in particular and hypnotizing every person in his reach.

Issei is stunning in his element, soaking in the reaction with a humble tip of his hat. You could swear, though you’re sure that it’s just your imagination, that he’s looking right at you.

His performance starts out like the rest of them, but each movement of his tattooed hands as they travel over his chest is spellbinding.

Issei discards his leather vest and tosses it to the side, it feels like you’re watching him in slow motion. He’s gorgeous, skin tanned and tight over thick muscle, arms wrapped in black ink and shining with sweat.

His chaps are next, ripped from his legs just as music behind him picks up. The wedding party next to you so loud you swear the laundromat next door can hear.

All that’s left is a thong that’s barely covering his cock. You try desperately not to, but all your eyes can focus on is the bulge under a tiny piece of black leather. Your thighs rub together in search of any relief to the feeling growing hot and slick in your stomach.

He moves like liquid platinum, every long, deliberate swivel of his hips and overt palming over his crotch is enough to cause delirium. He soaks in every whistle and shriek of his name, vibrating on the high of squelching attention.

Issei is a natural. He’s a wild animal, and, along with every other woman there, you wish he would tear you apart with his canines.

He descends the short staircase with a quick stomp of his boots, now making rounds through the crowd. He stops in front of tables at random, invading the space between strangers and collecting wrinkled one dollar bills.

Why does something so blatantly performative feel voyeurous?

All you can do is gawk, ignoring how every time another woman’s hand runs down his abdomen you heat with envy. As he turns away from the bridal party neighboring you, your blood turns ice cold.

Issei has you, unmistakably, in his sights. His eyes pin you, holding you down tightly in your chair as he struts forward. Tendou whistles loudly as the brunette approaches your table. You wonder, in your last moment of cognizance, if Saroti and Tooru had planned your evening in more detail that you originally thought.

“Long time no see, darlin’,” Issei stands over you, and all you can do is stare dumbly up at him, “do ya trust me?”

You don’t answer, not with words, not like he would even hear your quiver over Big & Rich booming through the speakers. His question is stupid, to trust someone you just met so vaguely?

You do. Against any better judgement, you do.

He doesn't give you the chance to ask what he means, stuck in the gooey feeling of his attention. Issei reaches behind you, picking up your half empty glass. He swirls the drink with an almost evil smile before bringing it up to his lips and draining the last bits of whiskey and coke.

Your face reads confused, not putting his intentions together until you feel his thumb pressed against your chin. Issei’s eyebrow quirks, eyes trained on your reaction. You’re options are to shy away, turning back in your seat, running for escape in the bathroom, or--

The gloss on your mouth is sticky as your lips part in obedience. Issei tries to hide his elation, but it’s difficult to remain aloof as your tongue lulls out and your eyes beg him.

Issei’s hold on your chin tightens, nudging you to lean in so he’s only inches away. Your eyes shut lightly, the shouting surrounding you sounds little more than a whisper with the blood rushing in your ears.

You swear you can hear him groan above you as the sharp taste of liquor hits your tongue. Willing your body to cooperate, you swallow the drink with only a small cough.

His face dips down, it seems like a habit now, to brush his promises against the shell of your ear once again.

“You’re an agreeable little thing, I think you can take it.”

His hands are on either side of your chair in a flash, lifting you up with trained, bulging muscles. You fall forward in your seat, bracing against Issei’s chest. Every cell in your body is tight with tension, if you lift your head up to meet the audience’s eyes, you’re sure you’ll crack like glass.

He steals you from relative comfort, shifting your weight in his arms as he ascends back onto stage. You’ve gone limp in his hold, pliant to his will. The unfamiliar presence at a dusty bar top has turned into more than a front row seat to depravity.

You’re thrown off balance as he sets you down, eyes adjusting to the white hot stage lights. You’re exposed to every set of eyes in the building, even if you can’t see him-- you know Satori is smiling from one sharp cheek to the other. Wherever Tooru is, he’s most likely sitting in the same satisfaction.

Aren’t you glad you came out tonight? I promise, you’re going to have a great time.

Issei rounds the back of your chair so his actions are hidden from your view. The brim of a leather cowboy hat breaches your field of vision, much too big for your head.

His hands come down onto your shoulders, snaking down your bare arms. His touch leaves a scorching fleet of chills. Issei runs his finger tips upwards, tracing against your collarbone before wrapping his grip lightly around your neck.

He can feel it, he has to, the racing pulse right under the surface of your skin.

The music transitions effortlessly, going almost unnoticed. The next song, still sharp with a cheesy country twang, is slower, deeper.

Issei’s thumb brushes against your cheek, your body wants to relax into the touch before it remembers how public the gesture is.

You hold in a shaky breath as he comes to stand in your eyeline again, you might as well be bound to your chair with rope. He looks larger than life-- in both stature and presence-- in front of you. His skin is glistening, refracting from the harsh lights with sweat and oil.

He is an unstoppable force against your will. Your desire to hide from the blinding attention is nothing compared to the desire to please. To please a stranger, to please the man you met only an hour ago.

To please Issei.

He flashes you another wink, taking a moment to rake his stair down your body. He memorizes the outline of your cute little dress, red is definitely your color.

Issei slides across the smooth surface of the stage to meet where you’re perched. The barreling, almost naked body now impossibly close to where your knees are pressed together.

He starts at your ankles, tracing the soft skin of your legs until his palms press flatly against your lower thigh. Issei savors the moment for a beat longer before prying your legs apart.

The crowd below you is loud and hollow in your ears, the shame bubbling up against your cheeks and nose is nothing compared to the pressure between your legs.

Issei’s hands wander up and under the hem of your skirt, scratching his nails on the vulnerable skin before they find his prize in the form of thin lace.

The “Wait” and “Stop” sitting on your lips shrivels up and dies as your panties are ripped off. You see the bright color, the last remnants of opposition twirling around his pointer and middle finger.

The crowd goes wild, watching as your body is made a fantasy that they can all live vicariously by. all you can do is watch as the fabric is stuffed into the side of his thong to accompany fistfuls of singles.

* * *

You’re still in shock by the final dance, still under a trance as Tendou pulls you towards the back. Stumbling behind him to catch up, you’re given no time to think about what you’re about to walk into.

A fog of smoke burns in your eyes. The room around you feels like it could curl in on itself, four walls marked sparsely with dusty furniture, the smell of weed and cash.

You fix your gaze onto a long, diagonal tear in the leather couch across the must and g-strings, the rip in upholstery is stuffed with wrinkled one dollar bills.

“I didn’t go too far did I?” Snapping back into reality, you hear Issei call to you. You’re vaguely comforted by a familiar voice before remembering the man attached had spat whiskey into your mouth and stolen your panties just 30 minutes prior. You heat up at the tips of your ears at the recollection of two things you had let him do, that you had wanted him to do.

Your eyes find Issei sitting on the couch on the opposite end of your freshly showered roommate, seemingly unbothered as Tendou flops down against the middle cushion and drapes both arms across the back.

“Don’t worry partner, our girl doesn’t startle easy.” Oikawa laughs, adjusting to sit across his boyfriend’s lap. Issei’s all leather outfit is replaced with a pair of grey sweats. He looks relaxed, effortlessly handsome.

What was it like, you wonder, before you knew how it felt to look at him? Life past the single night feels grey around the edges.

When was the last time you felt this alive?

He takes a sip of a water bottle, wiping off his chin with the large rose tattooed on his hand. You can’t stop staring at them-- the ones that roamed your body in front of a club full of drunk bachelorettes, the ones that traced your skin like he already had the map.

And now you watch those same hands, so new but so inviting, as two fingers curl inward. They pull you as if tightening a rope around your waist. You wade past tall sweaty men and freshly caught audience members as they tangle across dusty furniture.

You scoot by your best friends from where they sit next to Issei, ignoring the slap to your ass and the following laugh from Oikawa in between loud, sloshing kisses.

“Well, little one,” He pats his thigh, inviting you to the spot on his lap rather than the empty seat next to him, “you’re not gonna run away are ya?”

Every nerve in your body is twitching, you’re not sure if you could run if you wanted to.

You don’t.

Issei takes in your small nod of confirmation, pulling you into his hold. The position is awkward at first, perching on his knee as you try to keep your balance. He laughs, his arm snaking around your back so you relax into him. You fidget with your fingers as they lie against your lap, watching the bustling around you. A cloud of smoke settles in the air, you wonder if it’s a permanent haze of tobacco and pot-- the scent is probably painted into the walls.

“Is this what you expected?” Issei’s voice is low and close to your ear, you can feel the smile curled into his question. Your eyes are fixed forward, watching as Tendou pours a small white line into Oikawa’s collarbone and dives in nose first.

“Honestly,” you adjust, kicking your legs up over his other knee, “I’m pretty used to this kind of stuff.”

Even if your usual scene doesn't include a drug filled almost-orgy, you can’t say you’re fazed much. Not with the company you keep.

Even with the circus revolving around you, Issei is the only thing you can see. Everything else falls away but the smell of his body wash and the soft material of his sweats where they meet your naked legs.

His hand rests against your thigh, fingers just above then short hem of your party dress. The metal rings on each digit are cool against your burning skin. You’re sure Issei can feel the heat rising in your stomach as it spreads through your blood.

You feel him lean back, fishing something out of his pocket to set in your hands. You feel every hair stand on edge as the thin cotton drops into your grip, heavy as an anchor.

“You know what I think, darlin’?” Your breath hitches, the room around you squeezing tight against your shoulders, “I think you’re a natural on stage. I bet you would have let me do anything up there.”

A hand wanders down the path of your spine, rough fingerprints stroke past each vertebrae. You arch at the feeling, his skin is like a narcotic. The liquor still swimming in your mind is no match to this, to the heady smell of sex and sweat as it cuts through your senses.

Issei’s right, you’ll let him do anything to you. You’ll beg for it like you’re trying to pass the gates of heaven.

Your body moves of its own volition, legs swinging to straddle his waist. The material of your dress bunches over the curve of your ass, completely exposed to the room around you before being eclipsed by steady palms.

You would be, should be, embarrassed by the display of public depravity. No one around seems to notice, half naked is still more modest than most everyone else. Tendou and Oikawa have dissolved into a pile of spit and clashing teeth next to you, saving you from any snide quips. There’s nothing but Issei, face an inch away from you and lips tempting you to lean forward.

“Would it make you feel better if I told you I don’t usually do this?”

Glassy eyes flick dumbly at the man below you. He sees the wobble of your lip, the glaze in your stare as you memorize every feature on his face. Any reassurance sitting on his tongue dies when you crash your lips against his, hips rolling down into him and knocking him off guard.

Your kiss is searing and drips with finality. You’ve decided what bed you’ll wake up in the morning with your tongue tracing against his molars.

“No, not really.” Foreheads pressed together, it’s your turn to laugh. If you’re honest, you probably made this decision while still sitting at the bar.

You dip back in, emboldened with the bruising fingers digging against the fat of your hips. The feeling of your cunt pressed against his crotch could bring a man to his knees.

He’s not opposed, he’s just gotta get you home first.

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

#issei matsukawa x reader #issei matsukawa smut #mattsun smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #the smut pile collab #the smut pile western collab #the lawbreakers: multiverse #tw: drugs #tw: voyeurism #sin.drugs #sin.voyeurism

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im-juggling-fandoms · 3 years

Text

A little scared never hurt nobody…

A Blade Movie Fanfiction Part 1

OC x Deacon Frost

So, I happened to rewatch my all time favorite movie Blade. And DAMN how could I forget Deacon? My vagina wonders.

Mature content and mentions of suicide and depression. TW!

My feet ached badly. Of course not anywhere near how much my heart ached, but that was a different matter. Sally had forced me into these high inch heels, telling me how much they fitted the dress she also forced upon me. Jesus Christ, help me.. She had dolled me up like I was just that, her personal little doll.

“Oh, come on Maria, don’t be so sulky!” Sally groaned as we began coming closer to the bar that she had picked out for the night. The crazier the better, right? I thought sarcastically as I watched a group of five entering the club, all of them dressed as funky ravers. Wow, Sally. We looked like two sexified Morticia Gomez’s and if everybody looked anywhere near the other group, we wouldn’t fit in.

“Let’s just go to our usual place.” I groaned, and stopped her in her tracks by grabbing her arm before she could holler at the doorman.

“Why?” She crossed her arms. “I really don’t see why you wanna punish yourself by going back there anymore.” Her hand at my shoulder were gentle and I knew deep down that she meant well.

“You’re right.” I said finally, holding my hands up in defeat. “Fuck Jake! Fuck the pissy club he’s working at!” I shouted out loudly, deserving myself a few looks from a couple of bystanders. I didn’t care. It had taken me some time to get that out of me. Jake.. the son of a bitch that made me completely mad. The reason as to why my wrists were covered in bracelets, not only for the fashion but also to cover the noticeable wounds, soon to be scars, that I did to myself with a hunting knife after he had told me that he had fallen in love with my older sister, and she of course, had fallen in love with him. Not only did I lose the love of my life, I lost my own goddamn sister. It made me hate humanity, hate myself, hate everything. Sally was a fresh sunshine in my other so dark and depressed life. She tried with all her might to bring a smile to my lips and I had to at least try.

“Let’s do this.” I said and Sally jumped up and down in excitement before she grabbed my hand and lead me towards the entrance.

The muscled doorman with a Mr-T-look looked us up and down, a little too long. I was just about to say something when he got out of the way and gestured for us to come on inside.

“Have a wonderful night, ladies.” The doorman said with a chuckle as we brushed past him.

“What a fucking creep!” Sally whispered to me and nodded back to the lovely doorman.

“Probably desperate or something.” I said with a shrug, trying not to let something so trivial as a desperate doorman get my night ruined.

Sally nodded in agreement before we came into the club itself. People were dancing frantically to the blaring music, some people were grinding themselves upon each other, some getting intimate in the corners of the area.

“I need a drink.” I told Sally and pointed towards the bar.

“Seriously?” Sally groaned loud enough to be heard over the pumping music. She pointed to the bar and looked at me with an open mouth.

The line was horrid. There were about sixty people if not more, waiting to order their drinks.

“No way I’m standing in that line.” Sally said, but when she saw how frustrated I became she quickly added, “We can go out to the dance floor and dance for a bit, the line will probably clear up soon, ok?”

I agreed with her and removed my leather trench coat to reveal a black satin dress with a low cut. Sally wore red satin dress with a high cut to match her red hair. Both of us were wearing stilettos, mine were red and hers were black. We sort of completed each other.

We headed out to the dance floor, Sally was jumping and moved around with grace in her high heels. I was trying to not fall flat on my ass as people bumped into us every now and then at the crowded dance floor.

Sally laughed and tossed her hair oven her shoulder as she began dancing closer to me, I tossed my jet-black hair over the opposite shoulder of hers and caught her up on what she was trying to do. This was her way of catching guys attention. Dudes loves watching two girls getting it on and I didn’t really mind. She was my best friend and if she could get laid with my help, so will it be.

I swayed my hips in tact with hers and put my hands on her shoulders as she put her hands on my waist. We went on like that what felt like hours before we needed to take a little break. Sally took my hand and led me from the dance floor and to an empty booth. We sat down with our breaths in our throats and laughed at how promiscuous we had been just moments ago.

“You know, I-“ I began but got silent as a female waiter with a purple leather two piece and green hair put down two Bloody Mary’s in front of us.

“Here you go, girls.” She said with a wide smile.

“Uh-“ Sally began but I cut her off, “We didn’t order those.” I said defensively.

“No, I know. Those gentlemen over there order them for you.” The waitress said and pointed to two men on the other side of the club who already were looking at us. One of them had the same hair color as Sally, and almost as long hair as she did too, the other one had disheveled, brown hair and distinctive light blue eyes who looked right into mine. A shiver ran through my body at his intense gaze.

“I don’t know. We don’t know what the hell they put in that shit.” I said yet again defensively, pictures of Sally getting roofied and raped repeating itself over and over in my head.

“They haven’t touched it. I took the order, made it in the bar and brought it right out to you girls.” The woman said before she flashed another toothy grin and walked off into the crowd.

Sally took one of the drinks and began sipping at it.

“Sally!” I said, trying to take the drink from her hand.

“What? You heard the lady! They haven’t touched it.”

I sighed but she was right. I looked over to the bar and it was still crammed with people waiting in line to order. There were no way we were getting a drink on our own accord. How the hell those two guys got this quick was beyond me but her it was.

I deemed myself defeated as I took a sip of the drink. It tasted amazing and I wasn’t really scared for my own accord. At this point, after everything, I didn’t fear much. I sure as hell didn’t fear death.

“Oh my god.” Sally whispered. “They’re still watching us. They must have seen us dancing.” She said with a big smirk.

I looked up and once again my eyes were entwined with the brown haired man. He grinned, almost as if he knew what we were talking about.

The other man waved, beckoning us over and I saw Sally wave back enthusiastically beside me in the corner of my eye as she stood up and collected her coat.

“You want that dude?” I asked, still sitting down. Looking the red haired man over as I spoke to her. He wasn’t her typical type to say the least. Yet, she seemed enthusiastic at his attention.

“I mean, let’s go over and see what they want.” She responded with a shrug.

“I can tell you right now what they want.” I laughed.

“Meh! Don’t be like that! Look at the other dude, he’s totally eye fucking you.” She nodded over to the pair.

I rolled my eyes.

“He’s hot Maria, let’s just go over. What’s the worst that can happen?”

She was right. I was being boring and definitely cock blocking her. I inhaled and stood up beside her.

We pushed ourselves through the crowd over to the other side, our hands tightly holding each other to not get lost in the craziness of all people jumping and dancing around us.

Before we knew it we stood before the two mysterious men.

“It took you girls long enough!” The redhead shouted over the music with a grin.

Sally laughed along. I didn’t laugh. I didn’t say anything. I had once again locked eyes with the brown haired man. His mouth shot up in an attractive smirk and that alone, somehow cast a spell on me, beckoned me completely in.

“I’m Maria.” I said without realizing I had even spoke.

“My name’s Deacon.” He said and held his hand out to shake mine. I shook it and almost flinched at how cold his firm hand was.

Sally had already sat herself down beside the other man. He had his arm around her and they were laughing together.

The man named Deacon held my hand still and pulled me to his side. I didn’t refuse him one bit. Something about him was alluring, mysterious, almost felt dangerous. A year ago I would’ve put my legs to work and ran out of there but in my current state, it excited me.

He smelled so good. So masculine, yet fresh. His touch was experienced, he knew exactly what he was doing. He had done this so many times before. His mouth spoke sweet nothings in my ear and made me clench my thighs together before we even had the chance to get out of the club.

Sally and the man I know knew as Quinn were already making out. They didn’t seem to care at all about talking. When he started to push her hand towards his groin, Deacon spoke up.

“We should go to our place. It’s not far from here.”

“Good idea, boss.” Quinn nodded and helped Sally to her feet.

Boss? People went out and hooked up with girls with their employees now?

I didn’t have any time to think anymore about that as Deacon put his arm around me and took the lead leaving the club.

We walked a few blocks, Quinn and Sally were laughing and making out every now and then. Deacon held a firm grip around my shoulders and spoke softly about how beautiful I was and what I did to him. How he couldn’t wait to get to his place so he could “rip me apart.” It was a weird choice of words with a girl you just met but I let it slip, it didn’t frightened me if he was on the kinky side.

We stopped at one of the skyscrapers and went inside in the lobby. It was dark and I couldn’t barely see anything before we were inside the elevator. He pushed the button for the penthouse.

“Jesus.” I said.

“What’s that?” Deacon murmured.

“I’m barely afraid of anything but heights.” I said with a shrug. Deacon chuckled lowly.

“You’re barely afraid of anything?” He repeated.

“Not really.” I responded quickly. Not trying to sound like I was trying to be tough. I didn’t know if I was tough. I just knew that a lot of tragedy makes you indifferent.

“How about ghosts?” He asked with a hint of humor in his blue eyes.

“No.” I said, shaking my head.

“Witches, werewolves? How about vampires?” He tried again and this time I laughed out loud.

“No. Even if they happened to exist which they don’t, I just don’t know what to be scared of. That they could kill me? I’m so scared.” I humored.

He didn’t laugh, neither did Quinn. Both of them just stared at me before the elevator alerted us that we had arrived at our destination.

I felt embarrassed. This was exactly why I hadn’t been hooking up with anyone after Jake. I had gone way to dark for anyone’s liking. It was a miracle that Sally had stayed for so long. No one else had. I had a shot with this amazingly sexy guy and now I had most likely fucked it up.

Way to go Maria! I thought to myself.

We parted ways with Sally and Quinn. They hurried to the other side of the corridor we were presented with when we got out of the elevator. Deacon nodded for me to follow him to the other side.

I walked behind him and he didn’t even look back to see if I was coming. Of course he knew I was. Who would be standing up a man that looked like he does? Even if I didn’t get anything tonight which was unlikely that I would do after my little stunt back there in the elevator.

Deacon opened a door to our right and disappeared inside it. I catched up with him and peeked inside.

The room was white in its entirety. The only furniture was a king sized bed and a wardrobe. Nothing more nothing less.

No windows.

Odd.

Deacon stood by the bed and was unbuttoning his shirt and let it fall to the ground carelessly.

I couldn’t do anything but stand there and just get mesmerized by this beautiful man.

“Come here.” He encouraged and I pulled myself from the entrance and closer to him. I stopped right in front of him. There were only a few inches between us.

I let my hands wander down his hairy chest and down to his belt. I looked up as if to ask for permission.

But what I was met with wasn’t what I expected.

A wide grin with a toothy smile.

Teeth that wasn’t a part of the human anatomy. They were sharp like a canines. Like a predators.

Like a vampires.

I heard Sally scream bloody murder from somewhere in the penthouse.

I know it was expected for me to scream too.

But I didn’t.

“Can I?” I just said, referring to the belt.

Deacon, or whatever the hell it was, looked confused for a moment before he chuckled and shook his head.

“Do you realize I’m going to fucking kill you?” He snarled, clearly irritated with my reaction.

“You do whatever you gotta do, then.” I said as I undid his belt and pulled the zipper down. I reached in and took a firm grip around his clothed cock and looked back up at him.

He just stared me down with those icy blue of his, the fangs almost appearing as knives in the white light of the room.

He was still so, so beautiful.

I heard Sally scream one more time and this time it sounded closer. I felt a rush of pain over her. She didn’t want to die. She loved life and everything that came with it, she didn’t deserve this at all.

She must be so scared.

I wished I could be brave for both of us.

Without another word uttered between me and Deacon he turned me around hastily. I sighed, and closed my eyes.

I heard the zipper of my dress being pulled down and then the dress falling of my shoulders and immediately after pooling at my high heels. I didn’t wear a bra so I was left in my black thongs.

His arms were around me and his cold, soft lips and tongue were licking and kissing from my neck to my shoulder, ever so slowly. I clenched my knees together, the heartbeat between my legs almost unbearable. I must be so wet that it practically dripped from me by now.

His hands found my hips and the hem of my panties. He ripped them quickly from my skin, leaving nothing but shreds to accompany my dress at the floor.

I turned around and pulled at his pants. He gave me a crooked smile before he took the task in his own hands. He removed the last clothing items with vigor and ease.

Here we stood. Completely nude to each other. I admired his beautiful, manly, sexy body without embarrassment.

“Fuck.” Was all I could get out.

“I’m about to destroy you, do you fucking understand?” He almost snarled at me. His hand was at my neck, squeezing it firmly, but not hard enough to choke me.

He let go, confusion written all over his icy blues.

“Do you not fear death?” He simply asked.

Instead of telling him my entire life story, I unclasped both of my bracelets I had covering my wrists and tossed them to the side before I held my wrists up for him to see.

“You tell me.” I said as he had gotten a good look on them.

“You’re fascinating.” He breathed. “Humans tend to become so little, so pleading and patethic when faced with something over them in the food chain. You..” he seemed to be trying to find the right words, “You’re so indifferent.”

“What can you possibly do to me that life hasn’t already done?” I honestly asked.

Deacon’s eyes scanned me carefully. Like I was something he never had seen before.

Before I could add anything more, his lips covered mine quickly. Possesively. He groaned into the kiss as he begged for entrance into my mouth and I complied fully as I opened up and welcomed his wet tongue into my mouth. I moaned out loudly as he licked my tongue passionately. I could feel his sharp teeth at my lips and he would probably draw blood any second but I didn’t mind at all. His mouth was all I could think about.

He didn’t waste anytime at all, he pushed me up against the nearest wall, lined up his erected cock with my wet pussy and with one push, he was buried to the hilt.

I clawed desperately at his shoulders as I moaned out for the entire penthouse to hear.

He fucked me into the wall hard, not leaving my eyes for one second as he did so. As if he would get the answers he needed if he did so. Whatever those answers might be.

“Harder.” I begged, not even blinking as I said so.

He growled deep in his chest and literally threw me over to the bed. He were there in a mere second to turn me around on all fours and then he was inside me again.

“You want it hard?” He mocked me almost.

“Yes.” I said with a shaking voice from the pure pleasure he was bestowing upon me.

His hand found my throat and he pulled me up against his chest as he kept pounding into me vigorously.

We both moaned, groaned and touched every inch of each other we could reach. I wanted to melt into him, to be one with him more than just having him inside of me.

It didn’t take long for me to reach my peak. For the first time in my entire life with a man. I always did fine by myself but men never seemed to figure out how to make me burst. Deacon didn’t have any problem at all.

I screamed out loudly and Deacon’s hands were at my breasts, groping them as I rode out the most explosive orgasm I’ve ever experienced.

As if I wasn’t human and didn’t need any rest after that, he turned me over and re-entered me for the third time tonight.

My legs were shaking profusely and I breathed heavily but he kept going. My legs were sprawled out on either side of his legs, my arms were at his chest, his shoulders, in his hair, as I moaned his name over and over again.

He took a hold of my throat with one of his hands and held himself up with the other. He was squeezing hard enough for me to have trouble breathing.

This is it. I thought. This is when he’s going to kill me.

He groaned out, it came deep from within him and vibrated out of his lips.

And as that, he let go of my throat.

He rolled of me and sat himself up against the headboard. He got a cigarette out of his pants by the beds end and lighted it up before he took a deep drag from it.

I remained still where I was laying, too tired to even move after that incredible fucking.

I didn’t even know if I just had dreamt or if this really did happen. I needed to confirm it to myself or else it would never become a reality to me.

I crawled up on the bed slowly, up to where he was sitting and smoking his cigarette carelessly. I leaned in to him and rested my head against his chest carefully. Aware that he any minute could just end it. I just wanted to enjoy the little time I had left.

The bedroom door flung open and an excited Quinn revealed himself, blood around his mouth and even in his hair.

“Deac!” He began but got quiet as he saw me beside very much alive.

“There’s a thing called fucking knocking!” Deacon exclaimed furiously as he sat up and threw the lighter at Quinn with all his might. Quinn barely just ducked it and it broke in thousands of pieces against the corridor wall.

“I’m sorry!” He breathed before he closed the door and presumably hurried away.

“Fucking idiot..” he muttered as he got of the bed and began dressing himself. I remained on the bed, still as a statue. Pondering over all the ways he could end me. I hoped he would end me by feeding himself. He looked starved.

I realized how fucked up my thoughts were about this thing, this man? But something inside me wanted to give him everything I possibly could. Even if it meant my own life. Why? I didn’t have a clue.

He mesmerized me. He calmed me when he should’ve frightened me. Last but not least, he fucked me like a fucking God.

“Maria.” He spoke, pulling me away from my twisted thoughts.

“Mhm..?” I answered absently.

“Stay.” He commanded with a finger pointed to me like I was some dog.

“Aren’t you gonna kill me?” I blurted out, shocked that he hadn’t ripped my throat out already.

He chuckled and put a new cigarette in his mouth, he fished up another lighter from his pocket and lighted it before he smirked cockily more to himself than to me.

“I haven’t had a fuck like that in decades. I’m going to keep you around for as long as I see fit and you’re going to be a good girl and behave for me, won’t you, Maria?”

“I, eh-“ I almost stuttered, not knowing what to answer to something like that.

“Good. I’ll see you later.” He finished as he walked out in the corridor and out of my sight.

What a cocky fucking bastard.

An incredible fucking hot bastard.

#deacon frost #blade movie #smut #Deacon frost x oc

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missymurphy1985 · 3 years

Text

The Nightclub

Warning - serious smut.

Request? Yes @el3phants-taking0ver I hope you like it!

A/N - Cillian isn't married, doesn't have children and is in his mid 20s in this one...

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen

The music was electric - you and your girlfriends were all on the dancefloor within seconds of arriving at your favourite nightclub in Cork. Your hips swaying, circling round, the alcohol in your system already pumping your confidence through the roof as the classic RnB tunes played through the speakers. You could feel eyes on you, though, and turned your head to the bar when you saw him. His ocean blue eyes cascading down your frame as you swayed to the music. His floppy dark hair couldn't conceal the lust in his eyes, making you smile, as you swayed your hips a little harder, grabbing your friend and whispering in her ear. She nodded, and moved her body against yours, you lifted a leg for her to hold as you gyrated against her, your faces inches apart. If this guy was going to watch, you were going to give him a show. Now and again you'd glance his way, his eyes still on you.

You glanced round at the end of the song, making your way to the bar, disappointed to find him gone. Ordering your drinks, the barman handed you a note.

"Nice show. VIP area - midnight. Doorman is expecting you." You smiled, checking your watch, 11:57. You asked the barman where the VIP area was, and headed in the direction of his pointed finger, telling your friend you'd be back soon. Approaching the area, you felt nervous but excited. You'd never been back here before. The doorman stopped you and you showed him the note, saying someone was expecting you. He radioed through to someone via his earpiece, and nodded you in, giving you directions to a booth at the back of the room. The whole area was empty apart from a shadowy figure in the booth you were walking towards.

"So you got my note then?" A voice in the darkened booth spoke. A gorgeous Irish accent that sent a hot shiver down your spine.

"That I did," you sat down next to him, biting your lip as his body moved closer to yours, his face leaning in to your neck.

"Quite the show you gave me out there..."

"Mhmm..." He moved an arm over your shoulders, this guy was wasting no time at all.

"You recognised me?"

"Who wouldn't recognise the famous Tommy Shelby?"

"Well Tommy isn't here tonight. Will Cillian Murphy do for now?"

"I suppose so... Depends what he has in mind..."

"That show again, on me, right now..." His voice was barely a whisper, you could feel your core throb with every word.

"Right here?"

"No one else in here - I own 40% of this club, call it a perk..." He pressed a button on his phone, and the same song from earlier came through a set of speakers in the booth - loud enough for only the two of you to hear. He pulled you up onto your feet, leaning himself back against the table, smiling as you looked around.

"There's definitely no one here but you and me - no one's watching us..." He whispered, pulling you up against his body. You smiled, and hooked your leg up his waist, just like you had with your friend earlier, your cores flush against each other now as you gyrated against him to the music, your lips centimetres apart. A few breathy gasps between you, before he kissed you, deepening it quickly, his tongue granting itself access to your mouth. Tongues meshing together in the same way your bodies were, you quickly felt him hardening against you, making you pull your lips away and groan, feeling him push against you harder, brushing your clit with the buttons on his jeans.

"I can feel how hot you are down there, so fucking wet for me aren't you.." you nodded and he pulled you back into the booth, sitting you across his lap, hitching your skirt above your hips.

"Want me to ride you in this booth Cillian?" You groaned, rubbing your clit against his jeans again, his hands on your hips rocking you against him.

"Yes I do, you okay with that?"

"I'm more than okay with that.." he pushed the table further back to give you more room and you pushed yourself up on your knees, allowing him to pull his jeans and boxer shorts down to his ankles. As you did, he pulled your panties down, you stood to let them fall to the floor. Before he could touch you, you sank to your knees, immediately taking his cock into your mouth, relaxing your throat to take him all the way down.

"Fuck... Baby that's it... Good girl..." He groaned as you took him deep, bobbing your head up and down making him buck his hips into you. His hands were in your hair holding your head steady as he thrust up into your waiting mouth. You groaned over him, making him shudder, before he pulled you off him.

"Too much for you sir?" You asked as he sat you on the table behind you.

"Sir, huh? I like that... Let me taste that slit of yours..." His mouth was on you in seconds, rolling his tongue over your clit. He knew exactly what he was doing, sending you to oblivion in minutes as your orgasm built up quickly. He pushed two fingers inside you, pulling forward to find the spot he was looking for.

"Shit... Cillian... There...." He stopped and looked up at you.

"What did you call me?"

"Sorry... Sir... Please... Right there, don't stop..." He smirked up at you and continued his assault, making your legs shake over his shoulders as you came hard against his mouth, your hands tugging at his hair, pulling him away when the sensations became too much. Pulling you down off the table, you hovered over his cock, teasing him, rubbing it over your folds slowly.

"Don't tease me baby..." You smiled and sunk down onto him, a steady rhythm building as you rocked against him on the red velvet couch, knees either side of his hips. His hands found your bum, and he lifted you up and down on him, gasping as you rode him.

Finding the right pace for both of you, his hands were roaming over your body now, under your top to find your breasts, squeezing your nipples under your bra making you moan, your forehead resting against his as your bounces came harder now, grinding against him feeling a second orgasm approach quickly.

"I'm gonna come all over you... Fuck me Cillian..." He held your hips in place and thrusted up into you hard, you held onto the back of the couch crying out his name as you came again, your juices flowing out of you.

"Gonna fill you up baby... I'm gonna come... Fuck...." He thrust hard a final time before spilling deep inside you with a deep, guttural groan. You panted against each other as you both came down from your highs, a slight chuckle leaving his lips.

"Jesus Christ... That was something else..." He gasped, his head falling back on the couch.

"Yes it was... Jesus.." you clenched your walls around him one final time, smiling at the hiss that left his lips, and climbed off him slowly. Pulling your underwear back on as he lifted his jeans back over himself.

"Same time next week y/n?"

"Maybe." You stole a quick kiss from your childhood sweetheart and headed back to your friends in the main bar area, already counting down the days to the following weekend, both of you knowing there's nowhere else you'd rather be.

#cillian smut #cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader

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