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daddyhausen · 2 years

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• kinktober — day thirty one : dumbification— roman reigns •

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{ masterlists } | { kinktober 2022 }

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{ warnings } — 18 + { minors do not interact }, dumbification, public sex, workplace relationship office sex, power imbalance, submissive/dominant dynamic, size kink, degradation, oral sex { male receiving }, throat fucking, throatpie, begging, daddy kink, rough sex, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, penetrative sex, male + female orgasms, multiple orgasms, squirting, internal cumshots, vaginal creampie

{ word count } — 1k

{ pairing } — fem!reader x roman reigns

{ genre } — smut

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{ taglist } — @stxrrlightwrites13 @boutmachines @thewrestlingbitch @omg-im-such-a-masochist @baysexuality @legit9thlunaticwarrior @slut4kennyomega @wardlow @alexisquinnlee-bc @sammiejane22 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @omegasluvbot @damnnhausen @writtingrose @drummergrl1310 @nicoleveno14 @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @baybay-boom

{ comment if you want to be added to the taglist }

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you sat patiently beside him as the meeting came to a close

you were a silent as a mouse, taking notes whenever need be

eyeing him whenever there was a particularly important issue that needed to be addressed

you would not say your job was fairly important to those on the outside

but in reality you were the secretary to one of the world’s most powerful mob bosses

your job may be rudimentory in some sorts

what with only taking notes and being at your boss’ beckoning call

you attend every business meeting, took every phone call, checked off every list

you’re trusted more than some of his finest enforcers and associates

certainly smarter than them that was for sure

the meeting was soon adjourned

roman seemed bored out of his mind, simply dismissing them with a wave of his hand

you gathered your notepad and other belongings, adjusting yourself and getting ready to leave when he stopped you

“y/n. stay” a demand rather than a plea

you looked at him perplexed for a moment, resuming your seat as the final of his associates filed out of his office

“did you get everything?” he questioned, not making eye contact

rather insisting to staring at the wall

you furrowed your eyebrows for a moment

perhaps it was your choice of attire that put him off

a simple black pencils skirt with matching stiletto heels

a blazer and blouse with far more cleavage than any respecible secretary would dare show.

then again…this was your attire for most if not every day

“ah…yes sir!” you stammered over your words for a moment

placing your notepad infront of him on the desk

you began to ramble on with the summary report of the meeting

your words fell on deaf ears however

as roman fell intrigued with you for a moment

he was watching you speak but could hear no words

his eyes fell to your cleavage, feeling himself grow hard in his suit pants

“you’re such a smart woman y/n”

he cut you off absentmindedly, only for you to cock an eyebrow in confusion

“sir?”

“y’know…i often wonder what it would be like…”

he stood up, hovering over you, menecingly

you gulped thickly, noticing the sizable bulge in his pants

“to see you act like a little cockwhore…for me to make you a dumb little slut”

his face was centimetres from yours

your cheeks heated, flushed with arousal

“sir, a workplace relationship is highly inappropriate, especially that of the sexual kind…”

you gripped your clipboard, having retrieved it from his desk

nails digging into the thin wood

he chuckled heartily at your words

“slow down y/n…a little girl like you should not be using such big words”

he tilted your chin up, making you look at him

“i’m not asking you for a relationship, although the offer is tempting…”

his hand fell from your chin, tracing down the valley of your breasts

“think of it more as an employee benefit. in the end we both get what we want”

“s-sir..?”

you repeated, stammering over your words this time round

“look at you playing dumb already. y/n, i know you don’t come dressed like that for my enforcers”

he mentioned the mini pencil skirt and the unbuttoned blouse you adorned

you gulped, avoiding his gaze for a moment

“if you wanted my cock that bad, all you had to do was ask, babygirl”

you felt your proverbial shield come crashing down at the use of that pet name

normally you would not be so brash into giving into such temptation

but this was roman we were talking about

and the man is persistent if anything

quickly you dropped to your knees before him

an act of instinct, staring up at his large frame as he hovered over you

“good girl…”

he resumed his seat, unzipping his pants

his cock thrashed free against his stomach

far larger than you origionally anticipated

you took him in both hands, stroking the base of his cock while giving kitten licks to his tip

you took him in your mouth, already feeling the stretch of your lips around his size

“such a greedy little cockwhore already? i didn’t expect this from you, y/n”

you took him deeper, taking him as much as your throat could bear

“i’ll make a dumb slut out of you in no time”

you gagged around his cock, feeling the push of his tip in the back of your throat

he held your head down, bucking his hips upward to the rhythm of your moans

his groans echoes through his office, ringing through your ears

he came down your throat, white hot cum filling your cheeks

“thats it, drink all my cum, you dumb little whore”

he pulled out of your mouth, his cum dripping from your lips as you swallowed

showing him your tongue to prove yourself

he pet your head softly, motioning for you to bend over the desk

you did as told, ass wiggling in the air, waiting to recieve his cock

“it’s only been fifteen minutes and you’re already begging”

he lined his cock up with your entrance, teasing you for a moment

“please sir…please just fuck me…make me your dumb little slut”

“that’s more like it”

he thrusted deep into you, rough and relentless

he held your hips close to his, pushing your head down into his desk

“tell daddy what you’re job is, babygirl…”

you whined, already feeling completely full of him

“m-my job is to make daddy feel good. to be his little dumb, obedient slut”

“good…good girl”

your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as his deep voice made your skin crawl with arousal

“has daddy fucked you stupid, babygirl?”

you could only mumble and whine, mindlessly throwing your hips back against his

spit seeping from the corners of your mouth onto his desk

tongue hanging out past your lips

“y-yes daddy…” you blinked absentmidnedly up at him, through the slight reflection of the one way windows

thankfully he could see out but his enforcers could not see in

he came inside you without much of a warning

only a small grunt to signal his release

he pulled out of you, watching his seed drip onto his desk, followed by the flood of your orgasm

pretty cunt clenching aournd air as you came down from your high

“dumb slut, look at the mess you made” he remarked rather condescendingly

“don’t worry, daddy will get you cleaned up”

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#{ my fics : 🤍 }#kinktober #kinktober 2022 #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns #roman reigns smut #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns fanfic #wwe #wwe x reader #wwe imgaine #wwe smut #wwe fanfic

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recreationalfanfics · 1 year

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Yandere! Roman Sionis x Reader

Note: I have a huge crush on Roman Sionis (not the BoP version) so I wanted to try my hand at writing him <3 Also, I am going with the version where he can take the mask off.

Roman Sionis was a lot of things.

He was a trust fund kid who relied on daddy’s money all his life until he decided to take that money for himself.

He was a horrible business man so he turned into a mob boss, you know, as you do.

He was a whack job who had a sick and twisted obsession with you and was currently holding you captive.

But you honestly think that the worst part about him was that he was incredibly snarky and condescending. To you at least, his countless victims would most likely complain about his sadistic and brutal torture methods, but you doubt that you’d ever experience that for yourself. Mostly because Roman knew how to psychologically torture people in other ways.

“There we go, don’t you feel all pretty now?” He hummed, tilting his masked face and speaking in a way that made you know he was smirking.

The scene is tense for everyone. His gangsters stand behind the other tailors who are sobbing quietly as they sit on one knee, you can feel the uneasiness of the two tailors behind you as they silently pray and beg repentance for every sin they’ve committed, but what makes it worse is that all eyes are on you. You want to avoid speaking, one of Roman’s favorite pastimes is to find a way to misinterpret your words on purpose so he could have an excuse to kill someone, to guilt you into thinking that you were the one who condemned them to death despite him pulling the trigger. You feel your stomach churn, knowing that someone was going to die for Roman’s own amusement, and he knew it too.

“C’mon, give Daddy a twirl, yeah?” He hums.

Daddy.

You scrunch your nose in disgust. You absolutely hated it when he called himself that, it made you want to shrink into yourself, and rip your ears off so you’d never have to hear him say it again. He probably knew you hated it too, guessing by the way he chuckled at your incredibly obvious reaction, and it’s probably the only reason why he says it. Still, you do as he says because you have no choice and try to twirl for him enthusiastically. The last time you tried to be nonchalant about a gift as a form of subtle protest was when you were getting fitted for a ring, that resulted in one person losing their life and the employees getting all of their ring fingers cut off, and you know what Roman said to justify/blame it on you?

“You deserve only the best, sweetheart. If they can’t give it to you, then I don’t think they should be alive.”

Maybe in another life, where you were an equally depraved criminal, you would’ve found his words to be genuine and sweet. However, you knew that Roman Sionis was incapable of being genuine and sweet, and that this was another one of his mind games. A warning for future reference that if you wanna try and resist him, even in the most tiniest and insignificant ways, he will not stand for it.

“Absolutely stunning.” He praises, standing up to walk towards you.

You resist the urge to step away from him, no matter how strong it may be, because you know that’s another way to get someone killed. Instead you stand there, obediently like the good spouse you were, and don’t flinch when he brings a gloved hand to the diamond necklace around your neck.

“But you know me, I’m a sucker for you wearing anything expensive,” He says, almost in a tender tone as if there was some truth to his words, but you don’t think about that. Instead, you think about his next sentence:

“What do you think about it?”

You gulp and you look up at him, your eyes silently begging him not to do this to you. Not to make you have to stand outside the shop as you hear gunshots and crying, shamelessly throwing his arm around you with small droplets of blood decorating his nice white suit, and leaving you lying away from his body as your haunted by what you could have done differently even if you knew Roman wouldn’t have let you. His dark eyes stare back at you with nothing but a mischievous glee and you were on higher alert than ever.

“I love it!” You say, forcing your best smile and cheery tone.

He fidgets with your necklace between his fingers, his eyes now studying the way the diamond sparkles rather than your incredibly unconvincing expression, and he just says: “Yeah? That right?”

Still, you nod eagerly and continue to try and guess what he wants to hear: “Yeah, it looks really good on me, I think! I really like the style, a-and the material, and the uh-” You lose your train of thought as he slowly lets go of the diamond hanging from the sterling silver chain, letting it fall back down to your chest as he slowly starts to walk behind you, and the goosebumps start to rise on your skin. You didn’t like this, you didn’t like this at all, but you still tried your best to keep going, “the, um, the color is nice.”

“The color, hm?” He mumbles, his hands gently massaging your shoulders as he lowers his mouth (or where it’s supposed to be) next to your ear, “You sure about the color, sweet thing?”

You nod your head again, giving a shrill “mhm!” because your words are dying in your throat. You hated it when he got too close like this, it made you nervous, and you wanted him to get away from you. You wanted to push him off, to scream and run, but you also knew you couldn’t do that. His silence made the very blood in your veins run cold but set your mind on fire as you were trying to figure out how to salvage this already doomed moment.

“Really? Because you hate this color.” Roman states, his hands moving from your shoulders to your waist.

Someone’s sobs become a little louder than the rest and when Roman turns his head to look at them, you quickly turn around to face him again and put your hands on his chest. It does what you intended it to do because his eyes are back on you.

“I changed my mind!”

“Nah, I don’t think you did. If I recall, you absolutely hate this color because it reminds you of me.”

There’s an edge to his voice now, a petty “gotcha” kind of one. He wasn’t wrong, though, because he tried to give you something in the same horrendous color early on when he abducted you and you blew him off. Saying how you wouldn’t want something so gross and so…him. You gulp, realizing two things: 1. Roman had an excellent memory regarding you and 2. You just lied to his face.

And he hated it even more when you lied.

You stammer out apologies and excuses, anything that could help the situation but he steps away from you before taking out his concealed gun. One of the workers lets out a fearful cry and tries to back away but one his False Facers comes and grabs them by their shoulders, walking closer towards Roman despite the fearful protest of the poor innocent civilian. They were going to be the first one to die.

“I mean, c’mon, none of ya had the decency to look at how unhappy they were when they saw the color? None of you guys stopped to ask them what was wrong and fix it and put a smile on their precious little face?” He shakes his head as he loads his weapon. They beg for their lives as you try to plead with the devil himself.

“Roman, please, they probably didn’t want to go against you! Th-They knew that you knew best and I- I promise I love this color-”

You sound so pathetic, yipping at the big dog not to use his fangs, but you had no power here. No one did except for Roman Sionis, a man who never did anything other than to get more power for himself and to make others miserable, even the one he claimed to love the most.

Then it hits you.

Your body reacts faster than your mind as you take the fleeting opportunity to have one hand grab his mask and the other to grab his tie. Not even Roman was aware of what was happening as he tensed up the moment he felt your lips against his. You gripped the mask tightly in your free hand as you kept a strong hold on his tie, even pulling him closer towards you as if you were trying to chain him to you. As if forcing yourself to do this usually romantic and loving act is enough to break his need for blood. And it does.

Once Roman understands what’s going on, he drops his gun and cups your face with his hands as he kisses you back. Tilting his head to the side to deepen it and his body relaxes. You might not see it but you cloud your mind completely. His eyes stay open for a while as he sees one beautiful tear stream down your cheek before they go half lidded and he surrenders himself to this bliss.

You’re making his heart do the thing again. You did it to him the first time he met you, then you did it the second time, then so on and so forth, and here you go doing it again to him. You wonder why he’s so addicted to you, don’t worry, he does too. He wonders why he bothers with such an ungrateful little brat who doesn’t appreciate his gestures and only pays attention to the crimson that stains his hands, why he bothers with someone who sleeps on the farthest part of their bed as if Roman was some horrible monster they didn’t want to touch, but it’s times like this that he remembers why. It’s because you were the only one who could make him feel this way, who could give him a taste of what love felt like, but also made him feel so powerful when you did stuff like this as a last resort.He pulls away for air, your lips chase after him despite being out of breath as well to try and buy a little more time, but he’s just gonna tease you later and ask if he was just that damn good of a kisser.

Roman stares at you again, this time really looking at you, and his hands still cup your face gently. His pants softly under his breath as one thumb from his hand gently caresses your cheek. You stare at him with hopeful eyes and while he does love keeping you at the bottom of his heel and remind you whose in charge…he figures that this time it wouldn’t hurt to let you have your way.

“On second thought, boys,” He starts and he loves the way you edge closer to him unintentionally, “...Let ‘em go, they can be off the hook. This time.”

You let out a breath of relief but then shyly hand Roman back his mask, your hand letting go of his tie and wrapping your arm around his. As he puts on his mask, he relishes in the feeling of you resting your head on his shoulder and being more affectionate with him. Maybe you were so relieved that you managed to get through to him or maybe you were just exhausted with everything that went down but you fall asleep on his shoulder during the ride home and when he’s done admiring the sight, he gently puts his head on top of yours.

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rhodesrider · 5 months

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Special Princess

Mafia!Roman R. x Little!Black!Fem! Reader

Warning: mentions of violence, mentions of weapons, age regression, affirmations, praise

Minors! DNI! 18+

In the car, Y/N was criss cross on the seat watching different gameplays on her iPad while teething on her toy silent in the back, Roman was humming the bluey theme song while driving which gave some looks from solo and jimmy. Worried about him keeping his reputation up for a while now they wondered that if it’s mostly Y/Ns fault. I mean Roman is suppose to be this big bad mob boss, controlling the territory and keeping things under control with an iron fist. Instead, he balances work with his girlfriend who acts like a child. She doesn’t dress like the other women Roman has messed with, when they would wear night dresses and show as much skin as they want, Y/N just wears hoodies or overalls. Long sleeve shirts or short sleeve but overalls and sneakers not heels. It worried them that Y/N was probably a bad influence on Roman their boss.

“Hey Ro, when we get back to the house can we talk in private?” Solo asked as he was in the back with jimmy nodding at him planning the convo in their head. “Hm? Sure man. Oh do me a favor and tap Y/N when I pull over?” He nodded and looked at her examining her again. A child. A child in a grown woman’s body. He never understood it and nether has jimmy. But they don’t question it because it’s their bosses girl. After they pulled over to the stop they were doing the drop off, solo did as told getting Y/Ns attention making her jump some looking around. She took off her headphones taking in her surroundings looking directly at Roman as he opened the door. “Sweetie I’ll be back with the boys ok?” He asked in a calm sweet tone as solo and jimmy got out, “Stay here with mr.heymen.” He ordered and she nodded getting a kiss on her forehead. She waved at Paul sweetly and he waved back watching them go in the building. She started looking around every inch of the buildings and corners of the area and went back on her tablet drawing a picture for Roman. Sending it straight to him.

“Hey boss man you know we never question you…” Jimmy started getting a bit impatient needing to know why this girl is with them. “Sounds like you are about to question me thou.” He looked at jimmy slightly. Jimmy just shut it down and looked around the warehouse building. “Why they wanted to meet us here?” “I am not sure but keep ya eyes peeled.” They nodded. Roman looked at him phone seeing the photo Y/N drew and texted her “Thank you princess.” Soon hearing the other doors open the meeting is starting. Showing to the meeting was mister Ziggler and his bodyguards, simple transaction. Roman smirked seeing the briefcases behind him as well. “Mister Reigns, how are we today?” Dolph asked. “Good, I’m glad we were able to get some more supply. Especially from a trusted source.” Roman smiled. “Likewise, so ready for the wire transfer?” Dolph asked quick being money hungry but Roman looked at him not born yesterday. “Go on and put some product on the table, solo examine it.” Dolph smirked. “You don’t trust me big man-“ “I don’t bring snipers to my transfers. Especially ones that are ready at the mark.” He smiled as Dolph was starting to turn pale. Jimmy and Solo were confused, they couldn’t see out the window but were looking around outside not seeing a set up anywhere. “You got paranoid last time we met Roman-“ “Not the slightest.” He smirked. “Now let’s check that material.”

After the transaction, they walked out the building untouched. Jimmy and solo still had the guns out. “Put them away, she doesn’t like seeing that mess sometimes.” He warned them and they nodded following orders. They filled the back with the briefcases and Roman checked on Y/N seeing her in the same spot watching bluey sucking on her thumb some. “Hey we talked about that pretty girl, where is it?” She shrugged her shoulders. Roman went in her bag and pulled out a box with a fresh pacifier. He slowly removed her thumb making her pout but gave her the paci as she was calm again. “That’s my girl.” She giggled from the kisses he gave all over her face and went to the front to drive. The boys got back in looking at Y/N again getting a weird feeling now but let it go till they got to the house.

Later that night, the boys sat in the office to finally talk to Roman about this. “So y’all wanted to talk?” They look to the side seeing Y/N in a giant pink play tent in her own little world watching tv and coloring. “Well it’s about…um…it’s about her.” Jimmy said finally pointing at the tent. Roman looked to the side where the tent was then at the boys, “About her? How do? Also she had a name. Don’t be afraid to say it.” Roman said looking through his phone some. “Look we know Y/N is yo girl and we respect her but-“ “But?” Roman asked surprised that solo was questioning him as well. “-why doesn’t she act normal?” By the time this was asked, Y/Ns headphones were off and she listened in. A bit hurt by their questions making her think she did something wrong. “Well y’all she’s been through a lot, she does this to cope, this is her therapy. I will admit that I was a bit worried about it as well, but I support her no matter what.” Jimmy nodded his head in understanding. Solo was still a bit worried. “What about your image sir?” “My image is fine. She doesn’t affect my imagine.” Roman said paying full attention now. “For all know she’s more help then you both ever was.” He was starting to get mad with all the questions. Y/N didn’t like the look on their faces, so she sighed getting out the tent and going over. “Baby we talking go back to your tent.” Roman asked low but still a bit pissed which scared her some but stood her ground. “I’m sorry that I’m hurt your image, I can just stop if you want. To help a bit better…” Roman’s look softened and he sighed, “Baby you’re always big help.” Jimmy and solo looked at each other, how and she’s always in the car? “Remember that nice picture you gave me?” She nodded and went to get her book she drew in showing the picture. Solo looked at it and recognized it some. “Those buildings…” “Yea there were people looking at birds up top so I drew them too!” She giggled. It hit Jimmy and solo so fast looking at the photo again seeing the truck parked and the other building they were in to do the transaction.

“That’s how you knew.” They both said in unison.

Roman knew about the snipers because of the drawing she drew, matter of fact she always draws something and shows Roman when he’s in meetings and other functions. She’s technically doing a perimeter check. “Yep my little artist helps me like that.” “And other ways…” she mumbled. “Oh right, we didn’t see anyone when we were escorting you out back to the car-“ Jimmy stopped and looked at Y/N who was smirking some evilly. “Ain’t no way.” “I was trying to find a bathroom.” She smiled. What really happened was she went in the building and handled the snipers so they wouldn’t be ready to shoot. Solo remembered Dolph trying to contact the snipers but no answer came their way of course. “So you just lil miss killer?” “You worry about yourself next time please.” She hissed. Her eyes from a lightly playful brown to a dark evil black made it clear that what her lifestyle was is her choice. Roman choose right, he smirked and was honestly proud. But what he noticed was she was out of her headspace. “Go take it up to the bedroom princess, we can watch a movie tonight if you want.” She nodded trying to calm from her sudden anger and walked away going to the master bedroom. “Wow…” Jimmy said never seeing that outta her. “Did you know Paul?!” They turned to him while he was in the corner the whole time. “I had no idea.” He smiled and went back on his phone. The brothers looked a bit dumbfounded and Roman just sighed. “I appreciate yall worrying about me and my image because my image is y’all image, but I assure you as yall saw. We will be fine.” They both nodded and left the room leaving Roman in a smirk. “I know what I’m doing.”

Roman got into the bedroom seeing that the anger got Y/N tuckered out. She was sleep hugging a pillow and the tv was on My little pony. Roman got ready for bed and as soon as Y/N could smell his body spray she cuddled up on him smiling. He smiled as well and kissed her forehead. “I love you so much baby girl, I’m sorry they questioned you. Never change ok?” She nodded half sleep and Roman turned off the lamp light drifting to sleep.

#wwe imagine #wwe one shot #wwe smackdown #wwe raw #age regression #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns imagines #roman reigns fanfic #wwe roman reigns #age regression caregiver

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lacontroller1991 · 8 months

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Whumptober Day 5: Roman Sionis x F!Reader

Main Master List || Whumptober Master List

Day 5: Hostage/Kidnapping/Held at Gunpoint

Summary: With reader now being known as Roman Sionis’s girlfriend, she becomes an easy target.

WARNINGS: 18+ Graphic depiction of physical assault, graphic mention of blood/bruises/swelling, gang violence, mention of drugs, reader didn't know that Sions runs a mob, graphic depiction of murder, gun usage, slight PTSD

The room is cold and dark. You don’t know where you are but you definitely know that you’re not back at home. Home. A place where you were ripped away from without anyone knowing. A harsh hand slaps across your face, causing your head to whip to the side. “I’m going to ask you this one more time, where is Sionis keeping his supply.” You let out a whimper as the man you don’t know grips onto your face, squishing your already aching face in between his short, fat fingers.

“I told you, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Another slap lands across your face as you spit out some blood.

“So you’re meaning to tell me that Sionis’s little pet doesn’t know where he’s storing the drugs?” The man snarls as your eyes widen. Drugs? What on earth is he talking about? Sure, Roman is a bit… eccentric, but he wouldn’t be dealing drugs. Would he?

“What drugs?” You cry out, the rope binding your arms to the chair rubbing your skin raw as the man backs up, looking you over.

“Do you seriously not know that your lover is a crime boss?” He laughs as the others around you also laugh, confusion among other feelings predominating your emotions.

“He owns a club. That’s all he does.” You try to defend but something tells you that even you don’t believe it.

“Oh you sweet, sweet child. You really don’t have a clue. Roman Sionis owns a club, it’s true. But he is also one of the crime lords supplying Gotham with its drug problem.”

“No, you’re wrong.” Tears well in your eyes as your brain starts putting the pieces together. The random stains in some of his clothes. The faint smell of gunpowder. The random screams you hear. His off-putting behavior. It all makes sense now. Sensing your revelation, the man motions to two of the guys behind you.

“Take her away.”

—-------

“Roman.” Zsasz walks in, a packet in his hands as Roman looks up from his desk, hair messy and still in his pajamas.

“What is it? Did you find her?” He walks around the desk towards his right hand man. The first few hours of your disappearance Roman has just thought that you finally decided to leave him and he threw a rage fit. He really only calmed down when Zsasz pointed out the fact that all of your stuff is still in the apartment and nothing was missing, only you. Which led to the conclusion that you have been taken. In which Roman quickly mobilized his men to try and hunt you down.

Handing Roman the file, Zsasz quickly steps away, knowing that Roman would likely throw another fit once he sees the contents. Opening the file, he pulls out the photos and he sees red. One photo is you in a chair, tied to the posts. Another photo is more of a close up where he sees the rope cutting into your skin. The last photo is another close up, but this time of your face. Bruises and swelling around your eyes, beaten cheeks, bruised, swollen, bloody lips and it makes his blood boil.

“What do you want to do boss?” Roman looks up and Zsasz’s eyes widen. Sure he’s seen Roman angry, but the calmness on Roman’s face even has Zsasz intimated.

“Gather everyone.”

—-----

The sound of gunfire stirs you out of your unconsciousness and causes you to jump, only to be met with resistance. Men shouting orders and profanities barely contrast to the amount of gun fire being shed. You begin to cry, terrified of what’s going on. You try to get out of the binds but it’s only rubbing against your already broken skin. After a few minutes the gunfire stops, shoes clicking against the floor and you can hear a gun cock.

“No. Please. No. No.” A voice begs as the footsteps stop.

“Where is she?” The voice sounds vaguely familiar but it also sounds muffled, like there’s a mask covering the voice.

“She’s in there!” Your eyes widen as you realize that they’re talking about you. Full out crying, you’re trying to loosen the rope as much as possible but it doesn’t budge.

“Thank you for your cooperation.” A single gunshot rings out and you let out a sob, shutting your eyes and silently praying that whoever just murdered that person is not here to murder you. “Open it.” The door creaks open as feet rush in, one coming directly towards you.

“Please don’t hurt me. I’m innocent. I didn’t do anything.” You beg, tears falling down your face as you turn away.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. I’m here. Roman’s here.” Your eyes slowly open as much as they can as you turn your head towards the voice.

“Roman? What are you doing here?” He shushes you as you feel your hands become free, the rope that was once holding you back now gone as you surge into Roman’s arms. “Oh Roman, it was so terrible. They said terrible things. They said that you run a gang and that you’re storing drugs?” His silence is deafening and you realize that the person who had you captured was right. “He was right, wasn’t he?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he dismisses your claim but you know.

“I can’t believe you. Why would you do that?”

“Look baby, we can talk about this later, but we need to get you some medical care. Kay?” You begrudgingly decide to let it go, letting Roman help you out of the chair. He motions for Zsasz and another henchmen to help you but you jerk away from them and into Roman. “You guys go away,” Roman motions for them to leave and as they do, Roman sweeps you up into his arms, knowing that you probably won’t like the fact that the floors are littered with bodies. “Just focus on me, okay. I’m going to get you out of here and we’ll talk.”

“Promise?” You lay your head into his shoulder as he struggles not to gag at the fact that your blood is getting on his Gucci suit.

“I promise.”

#roman sionis x you #whumptober 2023 #whumptober #lacontroller1991 #Ewan mcgregor #harley quinn and the birds of prey #harley quinn movie #reader insert #female reader #roman Sions x reader #black mask

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babyboy-cody · 4 years

Note

Hi could you maybe do something where Mob Boss Roman is fucking the reader doggystyle.✨♡✨

You really came for my neck—

— — — —

Your back was arched in a way that made your spine ache. Your wrists were tied behind your back by one of Roman’s expensive leather belts. Your matted hair fell in front of your sweaty face. You tried pushing yourself up by your knees, but Roman’s large hand was pressed between your shoulder blades to keep you flat against the bed.

“Stay down,” Roman ordered, his voice low and flat. “I’m not going to repeat myself, sweetheart.”

“Sorry, daddy,” you whimpered, squirmy and gasping wetly as he slots a thick thigh between your damp thighs. “Please.. I’m a good girl.”

“Oh, I know you are,” he deeply chuckles and careful removes his Glock 17 from his holster.

You hear the heavy thump of metal on wood as he sets it down on the nightstand with the muzzle pointing away from you. You twists your wrists inside the leather binds, squirming and cleanching around Roman’s thigh. He claps a heavy hand down onto your backside, gripping the flesh hard enough to turn pink, catching you by surprise.

“Behave,” he orders and spreads your thighs with his knees. “Only good girls get dick. And you said you were a good girl, hm?”

“Uhhuh..” you whimper and nod against the ruffled pillows, your wet lips parting and your brows furrowing as you feel Roman’s dick sliding between your puffy cunt lips.

“That’s my girl,” he grins and lewdly taps his tip against your clit, causing you to twitch and gasp. “Easy, baby, easy.”

You held your breath as he slowly pushes his swollen and leaking tip inside your slick cunt. The stretch was agonizing and intoxicating as he fills you to the brim. Roman sighs and throws his head back as he lets out a gruff chuckle. His eyes close as he grips your ass cheeks nice and hard to keep you from squirming. His smooth pelvis is pressed against your backside, allowing you to feel every inch and thickness of his cock.

“How’s my girl?” Roman croons and smooths a hand over your cheek to fist a chuck of your hair.

“Good,” you squeak and cross your eyes when he grinds deep and hard against your ass. “F–Fuck..”

“That’s it,” he whispers in your ear, his hot breath spreading tingled along your sensitive flesh. “Lay right there like my good little fuck bunny and take everything daddy has to offer, yeah?“

You frantically nod your head. “Ye-Yes daddy..”

He says no more before the push and pull of his hips has you gasping in the pillows. His elbows were pressed into the mattress on either side of your head. His long fingers gripped your hair as he fucked into your backside a little vigorously. Each punch against your cervix leaves you breathless and weak. Roman’s hot breaths ghost your enflamed cheek as he grunts and groans from the tightness clamping around his slick cock.

“You feel how deep daddy is inside of you?” He breathes out, using his free hand to gently hold your throat. “This pussy is mine, hm?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you squeaked, arching your back a little more when an ache began to settle in your elbow joints.

Roman sits up on his knees and yanks your hips up, forcing your face deeper into the silk pillows that were damp from your saliva, sweat, and tears. His thumbs dig into your spine as his pelvis claps against your backside repeatedly. The slick sounds of his balls smacking against your pussy lips has him chuckling in an arrogant manner while you blushed fiercely.

“Music to my fuckin’ ears,” he grunts and claps a heavy hand onto your pink ass cheeks, gripping the flesh and smacking again.

“Ah!” You squealed and clenched your hands into fists as the leather belt rubbed and gripped your wrists even more.

Roman dug his thumbs into your hips and fucked you harder and faster without taking a break to even breathe. He peered down and watched your slick drip down your quivering thighs. He grins and reaches around to rub frantic circles and all kinds of shapes on your swollen and buzzing clit.

“R-Rom-an!” You peeped and held your breath as the first waves of your orgasm hit you like a truck.

Your eyes crossed and teeth sunk into the pillows as you hiked yourself higher to fuck yourself back on his cock. Roman grins and chuckles as he watches your desperate movements. He teasingly smacks your clit, forcing you further on his cock. You jerk and whine, hiccuping and gasping as forces himself deep inside your twitching cunt. As he slowly pulls out, he catches the creamy glaze coating his dick. He bites his bottom lip and grips the base, jerking himself over your bruising ass.

“Stay still,” he mutters and splays a hand across your spine when he squirm uncomfortably. “Daddy’s gonna cum.”

He taps his mushroomed tip against the small purple bruise on your ass cheek and moans gruffly when the first spurts of cum shoots out and pools along your heated flesh. His stomach twitches as he bites his plump lower lip. You giggle breathlessly as you feel the warm liquid of his cum claim your delicate skin. Roman pulls his phone out from under the pillows and opens the camera app. With a steady hand, he takes a picture of your cum coasted ass and your tied up wrists as a memory of your filthy sex games.

“And that goes to our little collection,” Roman laughs and jiggles your ass while you whine in embarrassment when his cum drips down.

“Boss,” a gruff voice echos on the intercom beside the bedroom doors, followed by the automatic motion camera turning on.

“Is there ever a time where these goons don’t need me?” Roman huffs as he hastily pulls up the leather binds around your wrist. “Hang on for me, babe. Don’t go anywhere.”

#roman x reader #roman godfrey x reader #roman godfrey smut #mob boss roman #mob boss roman x reader #mob boss roman godfrey

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bubbl3sworld · 2 years

Text

In My Room (Riddler X Black reader)

Riddler has been watching you for awhile, tonight he gets a little bold

A/n: just a little thing I wrote inspired by the Batman I recently watched. Things to know is that you are the daughter of Black Mask. Trigger warnings for stalking. He’s very creepy here and raises a lot of red flags. Might make a part two

“Night dad! Night Baba!!”

He watched her enter her room, not before waiting for a response back from her fathers.

“Night Y/n!”

“Night N/n!”

She closed her door and stretched. She had a long day, he knows that. He watched her sign papers, sing on stage, deal with other mob bosses. Through all that, he found her angelic. True to herself, she didn’t try and act like a new person like the corrupt. Sure she’s enabling the corruption, hell she was funding it! But it’s not like she had a choice. She stripped off her pajama pants and fell on top of her bed, she must’ve been exhausted. He waited a bit longer, to ensure she was asleep.

He steps out the shadows, breathing heavily through his mask. His glasses were fogging up as he stared at her. He was sweating, and not the normal sweat from him just wearing his get up. He was sweating out of nervousness, he has never been this close to her by far. He remembers the love and praise his followers gave him to continue on this mission.

He sat on her bed, fighting the urge to let out a moan as he sunk into the comfort of the mattress. He turns his head to stare at her. He licks his lips eyes at her, her curves, her body, he could feel his heart pounding out of his chest. He trails his hand from her ankle up her hip, gently squeezing it. She began to stir a bit in her sleep, she moved her hand on top of his and moved it a way. “Go away Stabs, Im tired…” She grabbed her pillow brought it close to her chest.

He looked over the bunny bed, the bunny was staring dead at him. His nose twitching looking at the man who sat on her bed. He turned back to looking at the woman who was quietly snoring. He could do so much to her, but that would be a death wish and it’s too early to anyways. His fingers moved away from her f/c printed underwear to up further, tracing along her back. She was wearing a f/c crop top with a single flower on it, he took this information in.

She liked the color f/c

She loved flowers.

And she was a very heavy sleeper on days she was exhausted.

He moves up to her face, gazing into it. Her hair was all over her head but that didn’t bother him. He began studying her face, smiling as he noticed the small details about her face. His eyes softened, he wished to lay next to her. To wake up next to her. To breathe her air.

He looks over on her dresser, her f/c print bonnet lied on top of her jewelry box. Now, he knows absolutely nothing about anything related to that but he knows she is not supposed to sleep without it. He quietly got off her bed and grab the bonnet. He gently places it on her head, tucking her hair inside of it. Once he finished, he gently runs his fingers down her cheek.

“One day…” He whispers, moving closer to her cheek. “Notice me…” He puts a card underneath her pillow and began to walk towards the window. He stared back at her for a moment before jumping out of it and down the fire escape.

“Y/n! Wake up! Roman said you guys gotta do business!!”

Y/n stretched as she sat up from her bed. She went to scratch her head but was met with the fabric of her bonnet. She doesn’t remember putting it on last night, but honestly she wouldn’t be too shocked if Roman, Zsas, or even one of his goons came in to do it for her. Y/n made up her bed, fluffing up her pillows before noticing a green card underneath.

She grabs the green card, tilting her head.

‘To N/n’

Y/n opens the card, hoping for it to be money but was greeted with a well crafted card. “If I could write you a song to make you fall, I would have you in my arms” Y/n recited out loud. Wasn’t that a Bruno mars Lyric? It made her roll her eyes. She opens the card to read what was in, being met with a riddle.

I may be a quiet sense of happiness, sadness, or fear to many. I can be shown and sometimes just be gone, but I always come back before it’s too long. What am I?

“What the fuck” Y/n stares at the card in disgust. It’s too early for this shit and she knows it.

“Y/n!! Are you getting ready?! You take forever!”

“Coming!!” Y/n stared at the card once more before setting it up on her dresser. She grabbed her towel and walked off to her bathroom.

He watched her from afar, he stood at the street below as people walked by. He smiled before moving his hat down in front of his eyes, he bikes down his street as he continued his daily food delivery run.

It’s very short, just a test of me writing something. Constructive criticism is allowed

#dc comcis #batman #the batman #riddler #edward nygma #the riddler #riddler x reader #x black reader #black reader #roman sionis #black mask #riddler x black reader

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littleoddwriter · 3 years

Note

Hello dear! Can i request a Roman Sionis X Male!Reader where the reader is a metahuman with the ability of manipulating blood (aka a vampire) and tries to hide it from his lover until Roman finds out when Reader saves him from a mobster? Fluff please + Roman as proud as hell of his lover? Thanks in advance!

Life's Good | Roman Sionis x VampireMale!Reader

I am so sorry it took me so long to finally write this! I'm slowly catching up with the last few requests I've received before my break. I hope you're still interested in this and like what I've done with it (I admit, it got a little away from me because I was super invested in the scenario I came up with, so it is probably less fluffy than you may have wanted, sorry)!

summary; see above.

notes; CW // Blood-Drinking (mild Dub-Con for that at first); Gun Violence; Being Threatened; Murder (not graphic). Vampires; Kind of angsty?; Fluff; Aftercare (non-sexual, but you know, after feeding from someone).

Unlike most people would think you’ve actually been born this way. Your parents were vampires, conceiving you naturally, which of course meant you’d been born a metahuman. You’ve lived quite a normal life, despite the fact that instead of eating, drinking and sleeping like other humans would, you only slept rarely, only ate people food when you had to fit in, and otherwise you fed from humans, drinking their blood. You’d never killed anyone with it, though. Enough people who wanted you to feed from them existed, establishments were you could find them were all around the world. It was a pretty good life.

Still, you usually opted to keep it secret, unsure as to how people might react. While the general opinion of vampires has changed in all these centuries, standing in front of one was still a wholly different thing for most. You understood and respected that.

So when you met Roman – his scent so enticing, you had trouble keeping your fangs in – you stood in front of the question once again. Should you tell him?

Eventually, you decided to go with the flow and see where it’d take you. You didn’t immediately want to ruin your chances with him before you’ve actually gotten to know him at all.

At first it was a casual relationship anyway, no need to tell him your big secret then. But as time went on, your relationship became more serious. You stayed over at his loft more frequently, forced to eat his food and drink his beverages, so as not to let him suspect anything. It didn’t hurt you or anything, it was just unnecessary and you’d never get really used to, well, actual food and such. All the different textures and tastes and what you could do with what to change it. It was fascinating, but not exactly your favourite thing.

Of course, one fateful day it had all come to a head.

You had just admitted to yourself that you loved Roman a couple of weeks ago, not daring to say anything to him, as you didn’t fancy ruining what you two had with those three simple, yet powerful words.

Now though, you regretted that decision more than ever, terrified that maybe you would never be able to tell him how you felt.

It all happened so fast, too. One moment, you and Roman were out on the streets, way into the evening, having just had dinner at an expensive restaurant he’d invited you to; and you were laughing, talking about something – you couldn’t remember what – when you turned into an alleyway. In the next moment, a rival mob boss shot at the two of you. Warning shots, missing you both on purpose.

“What the fuck?!” Roman exclaimed, livid, but you could smell the underlying anxiety change his usual scent from when he was enraged. You hated it.

The gang leader – whatwashisface, you could never keep up – stood now in front of you two, having Roman at gunpoint. His men had surrounded you two, pointing their guns at both of you.

“What do you want?” Sionis spat at the other mob boss, glaring at him with a piercing, wild look in his eyes.

You stayed silent, your hands raised out of instinct. The bullets wouldn’t be able to kill you, unless they were specifically made for it, but that was so unlikely, you weren’t overly worried. You were concerned about Roman, though, anxious that this might have been it.

“Set an example, that’s what. You can’t scare us into submission. You can’t control us. You really think getting a hold of the East End would give you enough power to do that? Fuck you, I say!” the leader yelled.

“Well, fucking go on then if you’re really so tough! Or are you only bark and no bite? Cowardly ambushing me in private like that, I’m inclined to believe you are nothing but a talker. You can’t scare me either, you fuck.” You really wished Roman would shut up for once, lest he’d really get himself killed this time.

Your mind was racing with all possible outcomes this situation could bring. Only one was sure to get Roman out alive; and boy were you glad you’ve fed from someone yesterday.

Even though you had never killed anyone and didn’t desire to do so, you were ready to do anything for Roman, no matter what. You didn’t care that he’d know then, know that you were a freak of nature, as some hateful people liked to call people like you. You didn’t care that you’d take lives. They weren’t innocent, dared to threaten your love and you just couldn’t see past that.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and concentrated, focusing your abilities into play and onto every single man of this rival gang. It was rare for you to use any of your powers that didn’t exist and activate naturally, like your strength. Your parents had taught you to only use them for self defence and this situation was practically screaming for it.

Snapping your eyes back open, now glowing red, all of the men around you gasped and crumbled, letting their weapons clatter to the ground, grasping at their throats, or chest, trying so hard to save themselves. Moments later, they were all just lifeless bodies, lying around Roman and you, as if you were some victorious kings. And in a way, you were exactly that, weren’t you? Roman was soon to be the King of Gotham after all.

All too suddenly, all the strength left your body, your legs giving out. Roman, despite his apparent shock, caught you, steadied you. Gently, he lowered you to the ground, keeping his arms tightly wound around you.

It had taken a lot more out of you than you had anticipated. You desperately needed to feed.

“Y/N? Baby, hey, look at me,” Roman spoke softly, something only reserved for you, you had come to realise.

With half-lidded eyes, you looked up at him, a strained sound passing your lips. “You okay?” you asked, still unsure if everything had truly worked out the way you thought it would.

He scoffed, “Yes, quit worrying about me. Are you okay? What the fuck was that anyway?”

“Just gotta eat,” you murmured, slurring your words heavily, “Sorry about the- that. I’ll explain later.”

“What do you mean you have to eat? Baby, I can’t follow you. I hope you realise that I’m missing some of the fucking context here,” he chuckled, which bordered on sounding hysterical.

“Blood. Vampire. Now, Roman, or else- fuck. Won’t make it.” Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment, your voice just barely above a whisper anymore. Fuck, you hoped he understood. Even more so, you hoped he was okay with it and that maybe he liked you enough to save your life. You didn’t exactly fancy feeding from him, when he was basically pressured into it. But he had a choice, you told yourself.

When you were slowly lifted up a bit and felt skin against your lips, you forced all your last strength to open your mouth – your fangs had automatically unsheathed when you unleashed your powers – and bite down.

The first taste of Roman was as intoxicating and overwhelming as you had always fantasised it would be. A shaky moan came out of him when you started sucking in earnest. Pretty quickly, you regained more and more strength, feeling increasingly less dead. You cupped the other side of Roman’s neck with your hand and pulled him further in. Shit, you couldn’t possibly get enough.

After a few, long moments, you felt Roman push against you, as well as pulling at your clothes, calling your name. Reluctantly, and almost as if you were just waking up from a trance, you let up and licked up the excess blood on his neck, simultaneously licking his wounds closed.

Roman was breathing heavily, and you were still feeling out of it, as you two just kneeled in this alley, holding each other, amidst the dead bodies of Sionis’ former rivals. It was bizarre.

“I think we should go home,” Roman said eventually, his voice sounded so soft, as if he was barely present in the real world.

You nodded and got up, helping Roman to do the same. He was swaying a little and this time you were the one who steadied him. Drinking someone’s blood always took a toll on both parties and you knew you had taken more from him than you usually dared to do with anyone. It made you feel guilty. You had to make it up to him later – if he still wanted you then – that was for sure.

When you had arrived at Roman’s loft, you helped him lie down on his chaise longue, legs propped up on one of his many pillows, to help his blood flow to where it was most needed. Then you went over to the kitchen to get him a glass of orange juice and an energy bar.

Roman nodded in thanks when you pressed either item in his hands, standing above him. You felt so uncomfortable, didn’t quite know what to do with your hands, or if you were even supposed to still be here. He’s been so unusually quiet the entire time, albeit it was most likely due to shock and blood loss.

“So, you’re a vampire.” Roman stated, looking at you, and you hated that you couldn’t place his expression into any kind of category. You just nodded in answer. “Right. And why exactly didn’t I know?”

Your mouth opened and closed a couple of times, looking for the right words. “I was afraid of losing you over it,” you settled on telling the truth eventually.

Again, Roman only nodded; his expression was still so indecipherable, but then a certain shine caught in his eyes. You’ve only witnessed it a couple of times thus far.

“You killed for me,” he practically gasped. “Have you killed before? Being a vampire and all, I’d presume you have.”

You shook your head, “No, that was the first time, actually.”

“Fuck,” he muttered. Then, in an instant, his expression morphed into something prideful, a huge grin plastered on his face, his eyes brighter than any stars you’ve seen in the sky above – it was breathtaking. “You killed for me,” he repeated, sitting upright, throwing his legs over the side of the chaise longue, planting his feet on the ground.

“Y-yeah, I did,” you replied, a weak chuckle leaving you. You still couldn’t quite believe that you’ve done it, especially when you spared a thought on how it made you feel – powerful, so far above others, good.

“I can’t fucking believe you. Fuck, you’re a dream come true, my little prince! You’re so special. A vampire! And you killed for me, because-“ He couldn’t finish it, realisation dawning on him, you could see it in his eyes, in the way his smile slowly vanished.

“Because I love you, yes. I couldn’t lose you over some stupid mob boss who thought he could ambush you like that.”

Roman licked his lips and nodded, placed the empty glass and half eaten energy bar on the table in front of him, and got up.

“I’m proud of you,” he then said, taking you by surprise.

“What? Why?”

“For not letting your fears get in your way. You were afraid of losing me for being a vampire, but you were probably even more terrified of losing me to my mortality. And you pushed through it. Almost fucking killed yourself, only to save me. I’m proud of you for doing that. I’m grateful, too, naturally.”

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense. Thanks, Roman,” you snickered.

Instead of continuing the conversation, Roman pressed his lips against yours in a passionate kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist. Putting your arms around his shoulders, you kissed him back, hoping to show him just how grateful you were with that single kiss.

Then you remembered your guilt from before and broke it. Roman glared at you for a moment. “What?”

“You never gave your consent, I- I fed from you and you never-“

“I did. By offering myself to you. I had a choice, you know? So quit it. You’re not guilty of anything, my boy. And just so you know, I’ll fucking kill you if you ever feed from anyone else again, ‘kay?” He was smirking, but his eyes had an edge to them, which let you know that he was serious about his threat.

Giving a short laugh, you nodded and kissed him again. Life really was good.

#murder tw #vampire #x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #reader fic #reader insert #roman sionis #roman sionis x reader #roman sionis x male reader #roman sionis fanfiction #ewan mcgregor #ewan mcgregor x reader #ewan mcgregor fanfiction #mlm fanfic #mlm fiction

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inagetawaycarxo · 2 years

Note

Roman with reader please? Something like... "Are you sure babygirl? once i start i don’t think i’m able to stop" a lot of smut maybe?! Thnks ♥️♥️

merging this request as well, Anon: Can you please do an imagines where the reader is having an affair with Roman Reigns while she is with Brock Lesnar because Brock is abusing her

❧ Pairings: Mob!Boss!Roman x Fem!Reader

❧ Featuring: Roman Reigns, Y/n [reader], Brock Lesnar [mentioned]

❧ Summary: Roman finally has y/n in his grasp.

❧ Warnings: yandere!roman?, mob!boss!roman, mob boss themes, smut, sex, 18+, nsfw, mention of the word cunt, oral receiving [female and male], errors I missed.

❧ w/c:1632

❧ AUTHORS NOTE: I DO NOT give consent/permission for my work to be copied and pasted on other platforms, however, I highly encourage feedback, likes, reblogs, and comments.

He finally had her all to himself. She was finally in his grasp. After a month of stalking her, and scheming, she was in front of him.

Though at the start he had a different agenda for her in mind. She was Brock’s girlfriend. He was going to kill her as revenge. It was only fair; Brock killed his wife Galina and his children. Leaving him with no wife and children.

But his plans changed, the way Brock treated her was horrible. He was going to save her.

His hatred for her turned into love and something more, he wanted to protect her.

Roman looked down at her. Towering over her. As she looked up at him. He was so close to her. The sexual tension was thick.

“Are you sure babygirl? once I start I don’t think I’m able to stop,” He spoke.

Eyes darkening with lust. There was a deeper meaning to the words he spoke.

She nodded her head.

“Yes, I am sure,” She responded.

Roman’s hands cupped her jawline ever so softly. Closing the distance between the both of them. Till his lips were hovering over hers.

His lips pressed against hers passionately. Her eyes fluttered closed. Her hands gripped his shirt.

The kiss turned heated. Roman guided her backward. Her back hit the wall. She let out a gasp. Making Roman slip his tongue into her mouth. Both of them, battle for dominance. Of course, he won.

Both of them pulled away from each other. Breathing heavily. Eyes dark with lust.

Not even a second later their lips were locked against each other. Hands tearing each other’s clothes off. Till she was left in her lingerie and he was left in his boxers.

He trailed his lips down her jawline to her neck. She tilted her head back, exposing her neck to him. Roman’s hands left her jawline, grabbing her boobs instead. He squeezed her boobs as he left love bites on her neck. He removed his hands from her boobs. His right hand snaked around her back. Fingers fiddling with the hook of her bra. His left index finger slipped underneath the bra strap, while his mouth left her neck, leaving hot searing kisses on her collarbones. He smirked against her skin as he undid her bra. His fingers grabbed her bra strap. Pulling it down. She helped him with the other strap. Roman tossed her bra behind him. His mouth descended to the valley of her breasts. His right hand cupped her right boob, while his left hand grabbed her waist.

His mouth attached to her right nipple. Sucking softly at first then getting rougher. He sucked her nipple for a few more minutes before doing the same action with the left one. All the while massaging her right boob. She was wet with arousal. Moaning his name. Her moans were music to his ears.

He detached his mouth from her left nipple. His mouth trailed down to her stomach. Lowering himself down to his knees as he reached the waistband of her underwear. His fingers slipped underneath the waistband. Her breathing hitched as he tugged her underwear down. Her heat was glistening he smirked. Looking up at her. She was looking at him. Eyes dark with lust.

His hand grabbed her left thigh, putting it over his shoulder. His eyes still locked onto hers as he lowered his head near hers looking at her wet cunt. He wasted no time, attaching his mouth to her wet heat. Sucking harshly. A choked moan left her lips. Her hands grabbed his hair. Luckily the wall was holding her for support. Her left leg tightened around him, as he sucked harder. Head tilting back hitting the wall. Her eyes closed shut tight, as pleasure took over her. Her moans grew louder.

Roman looked up at her. His dick throbbing. His erection grew. The pad of his thumb went to her clit. Rubbing her clit in a fast motion. Her fingernails dug into his scalp. Leg tightening around his head. Moans intensifying.

“I am getting closer,” She panted out.

This only made him suck faster. he ate her out like he was starving. She let out a gasp. Her body shook as her orgasm took over her. Her moans only fueled his desire. He continued to suck, sucking her juices as she came. He continued to suck, till he sucked all her cum. He gave one final suck before pulling his mouth away from her cunt. She let out a whimper at the loss of contact, ad how the cold air hit her sensitive heat. Roman’s perfectly neat man bun was in disarray.

Roman kissed his way up till he reached her neck. Sucking harshly on her skin. Pressing his covered bulge against her heat. She let out a gasp, her hand wandering down to the waistband of his boxers, hand slipping inside his boxers. Her hand wrapped around his hard erection, slowly moving her hand up and down his hardened length. A moan escaped his mouth, but it was muffled by her skin. She could feel his precum. She used that as a lubricant. Her other hand tugged his boxers down, freeing his erection. Roman hissed, all the while she stared at his huge cock and thick, and she felt herself get wet.

She removed her hand from his length. Slowly going down on her knees. Her eyes were at eye level with his cock.

Her hand grabbed his shaft as she lowered her lips down to the tip of his cock. she parted her lips slowly, wrapping her lips around his cock in a teasing matter.

She looked up at him through her eyelashes, as she slowly bobbed her head up and down his shaft. Roman’s hands gripped her hair.

“Don’t be a tease,” Roman growled. Making her smirk. She bobbed her head faster, humming softly, while her other hand fondled his balls.

Roman tilted his head back. His fingernails dug into her scalp. He slowly started to rock his hips back and forth. Occasionally hitting her uvula. Her gags only added to his pleasure.

Then something snapped inside of him. He didn’t want to cum in her cunt. His hand roughly grabbed her hair, yanking her hair backward, she let out a gasp. His cock slipped out of her mouth with a pop. Saliva dripped from her mouth. His cock was covered in her salvia but he didn’t care, at least it would be lubricated for when he entered her.

He yanked her hair up, pulling her up. She let out a tiny gasp. His other hand grabbed underneath her chin.

“I don’t want to cum in that pretty little mouth of yours, I want to cum in that pretty little cunt of yours,” Roman growled. It only made her wetter. She clenched her thighs together. Roman noticed. He let go of her hair. His hand went down in between her legs, spreading them apart. She let out a gasp, as she felt his finger slide in between her wet folds.

“So, wet,” He hummed.

Roman couldn’t help the next words that came out of his mouth.

“I bet Brock can’t get you this wet can’t he?” Roman spoke. She shook her head. Roman smirked. happy with the answer. His ego grew bigger.

“Of course, he can’t, he isn’t worthy of you,” He spoke. As his hand grabbed his shaft.

Teasingly guiding his shaft in between her folds, she moaned. Grabbing his shoulders.

“Please,” She begged.

“Please what?” He spoke.

“Fuck me,” She pleaded.

“Oh, I will, I will fuck you so good, you will be craving more,” He spoke. Making her whimper. She opened her mouth, probably about to beg again when he entered her without warning. He smirked as she moaned. He pressed his body against hers. She was pressed against his chest and the wall. He removed his hand from her chin. Both his hands grabbed her waist. Hiking her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist.

Roman started to thrust into her at a rough and fast pace. With every thrust, her back hit the wall. Roman’s mouth attached itself to her neck. sucking harshly. She tilted her head back. Closing her eyes. as pleasure took over her body. she was seeing stars. Holding onto his shoulders.

Every thrust was intense.

“I can tell that asshole never fucked you good,” He spoke. Biting her neck. she only moaned in response.

Her walls clenched around his cock with every thrust. He could tell she was getting close. Her fingernails dug into his skin. She held on tighter. meeting his thrusts. Both of them were in pure ecstasy.

Roman left a trail of bites along her neck. all the while whispering dirty words into her skin.

She felt herself getting closer, her toes curling, as spots started to appear in her vision. Roman could tell he was close to but he wanted her to release first.

“Come kitten,” He demanded. Thrusting faster into her. That seemed to be her undoing.

She wasn’t sure if it was his deep voice or the thrust but she felt her orgasm wash over her in intense waves.

Her walls clenched and then released as she came hard. With one final thrust, Roman emptied his seed inside of her. A loud moan escaped his mouth. making her mewl, as she felt his cum inside of her.

He pressed soft kisses on her neck. Trailing his lips up to her jawline. Her eyes fluttered open as she felt him move away from her. She looked at him. her eyes in a daze to find him already looking at her.

“You are mine now,” He spoke in a low tone. Making her cunt tingle. Roman smirked at her devilishly….

FEEDBACK AND REBLOGS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED!

#wwe x reader #roman reigns x reader #wwe imagines #wwe imagine #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns smut #wwe smut #wwe fanfiction #wwe fanfic #roman reigns fic

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luminnara · 3 years

Text

Victor Zsasz x Reader NSFW | 18+

Fandom: Birds of Prey/DC

I don’t see nearly enough BOP!Zsasz appreciation here, so I’m determined to change that. Reader is fem, but if there’s interest I can definitely write stuff for male or nb! The reader also has a whole backstory because I’m way more into world and character building than I am reader inserts so this is practically a little OC fic lol

This is sort of set pre-Birds of Prey, don’t worry about it too much, it’s just fun

Warnings: Violence, Zsasz being Zsasz, reader is an assassin who unalives people, light smut

This is short because I’m testing the waters! If there’s interest, I’ll write a part 2!!

Requests are open!

When Roman announced that he was hiring a new girl, Victor was less than thrilled. He liked what they had going--Roman was the money and the brains, and Victor was the muscle, the devout follower, and the one who loved to spill blood. They didn’t need anybody else, especially not a new hitman, and especially not a girl.

You had grown up in Gotham City’s East End, a district that was infamous for harboring all sorts of crime. You knew every street, every dark alley, every burnt out shell of a once-great building. The East End was a far cry from Gotham’s nicer neighborhoods, with their shining skyscrapers and big fancy department stores, but what could you say? The East End was home. It was dark and gritty and dangerous, but you loved that about it.

Besides, it’s not like you could really go anywhere else.

You had developed quite a reputation for yourself over the past few years. Places like the East End have a tendency to breed criminals, and you were no exception--as soon as you left home, you followed right in your mother’s footsteps and became a gun for hire. Thanks to your family name, you had no trouble taking on the odd merc job here and there, working for mob bosses who didn’t mind the mess you tended to leave behind. Silent, sneaky kills weren’t really your thing, but you never really got into the whole...artistic thing that a lot of other killers did. You didn’t sit there and fuck around with the blood and guts, you just...weren’t very tidy. You were quick, but you weren’t clean. If somebody wanted their enemies taken out quietly, they knew not to even look in your direction, because you were not the girl for the job.

If somebody wanted to make a statement, though...

You were more than happy to crush some skulls and splatter some blood across the sidewalk for the right price.

Of course, so much killing got to be exhausting after a while, and even brutal assassins like yourself needed to relax every so often. So, that’s how you found yourself finishing up a job and heading back to your modest little apartment, hopping in the shower, and scrubbing all the blood and dirt off your skin as if you had just spent a long day at the office. It was all normal for you--the killing, the shady bosses, the weirdos you worked with--and you treated it the same way any of those prim and proper office people in Old Gotham treated their day jobs. It was a way to make ends meet, something to pay for groceries and take care of the bills...only, in your case, you were generally paid fully in cash, and sometimes that cash had some suspicious stains on it.

But hey, work was work, right?

That night, you headed to a club you had yet to check out. Done up in a little black dress and wearing some very expensive pearls you had nabbed off of a target a few months back, you took a cab and found yourself entering The Black Mask.

It was a nice spot, the booths and bar all packed with socialites and crime lords. Waitresses and shot girls flitted around, there was a band playing on the stage, and the atmosphere seemed to be cheerful. Honestly, it wasn’t what you had expected, given what you’d heard about its owner.

Roman Sionis was a businessman, as he liked to call himself, who had been steadily growing his empire. He practically owned the entire East End now, and word on the street was he was looking to expand further into the rest of Gotham. You had never met the man, but you had enough mutual connections that Roman knew exactly who you were the moment he spotted you at the bar.

“Zsasz, go get her,” he said, gesturing towards you with a gloved hand.

Zsasz followed his gaze and tilted his head slightly. “You got it, boss.”

You were minding your own business, ordering yourself a gin and tonic and elbowing drunk men out of your way as you carved a little spot for yourself at the bar. They were rambunctious, leaning towards you with wide grins and beady eyes that told you they were hoping to get lucky tonight.

As you were getting ready to throw another elbow, the men suddenly scattered, vanishing into the crowd as if something had scared them off. The bartender set your drink down in front of you, and just as you raised the glass to your lips, the scent of musky cologne filled your nose and you looked up to see none other than the notorious Victor Zsasz standing before you.

“Boss wants to talk with you.” He said simply, his voice rough and hoarse.

But you were too busy taking in his facial features to really listen to his words. His short hair was the lightest blonde you had ever seen, almost snowy in color, a stark contrast to the black stubble that covered his jaw. He was wearing a silky dress shirt the color of red wine, or dark blood, the kind that was thick and coagulated and dripped off of knives so beautifully.

As he stared right back at you, you saw the scars that cut into his face, straight, meticulously carved lines that you were sure he had given himself. After all, just as you did, Victor Zsasz had a reputation, and while you had never met him, you had heard plenty about the sadistic assassin who kept tally marks of all of his victims.

Part of you wondered just how many he had.

You took a sip of your drink, eyes never leaving his. “I only just got here. I haven’t even paid for my drink.”

“On the house, courtesy of Mr. Sionis.” Zsasz said, regarding you with heavily lidded eyes as he looked down at you.

Just as you knew of him, he knew of you. Even though he was pretty much locked in place with Roman now, Zsasz heard plenty about everyone else in the East End. You practically ran in the same circles, and he had to admit, he was a tiny bit curious about the lady assassin everyone was raving about. He almost admired the messiness of your kills, but he also thought that you were sloppy and too quick, never taking the time to truly appreciate what you were doing.

Now, as he glanced down at the swell of your tits as they practically spilled out of your dress, he couldn’t decide if he wanted to kill you, or fuck you, or both.

“It’s rude to stare, Mr. Zsasz.” You teased as you caught him.

“It’s rude to keep the boss waiting.” He shot right back.

“Fine.” you sighed, pushing away from the bar. “Lead the way.”

He offered his hand and you took it, holding onto him gingerly. The crowd parted for Zsasz in a way that they never would for you, smoothly and easily, club patrons giving him polite, frightened nods as he pulled you past. His grip on your hand was tight and harsh, squeezing as if you might try to run, but in all honesty, you were marveling at how warm his skin was around yours. You didn’t hate the way he led you over to his employer, and you knew that he was being gentle, or at least his version of it.

When he brought you before Roman Sionis, he immediately let go of you, moving to stand next to his boss. Roman himself was sitting in a booth, sinking into the lavish red velvet upholstery as he held a drink in his gloved hand. He regarded you with a calm smile, immediately gesturing for you to take a set across from him.

So you did, and the rest was history.

Roman Sionis had heard of you, and when he realized that you lived in the East End, in his East End, he had to have you. He had to own you. So, he did what he always did with people, and he bought you. All you had to do was complete one little, simple job for him, and he would keep you around on a regular salary, giving you all the benefits of joining his tiny little family. You passed his test with flying colors, taking out your target faster than Roman could have hoped for, and the next thing you knew, you were spending your days lurking around Roman’s penthouse.

You stayed quiet and obedient, not wanting to give Roman any reason to get rid of you. It was a good, steady gig, one you didn’t want to pass up, but you could tell that Zsasz wasn’t pleased. He scowled at you, always waiting for you to trip, always ready to watch you fall. You got the feeling that he viewed you as an intruder, someone who was messing up his life even though you gave him more than enough space. He would raise his lip in a sneer whenever you passed, showing off gold teeth in a maddeningly handsome way that always had you hoping and praying that he wouldn’t notice the way your cheeks sometimes flushed. He never seemed to care, as he never made any other moves. Maybe he was under strict orders not to fuck with--or just plain fuck---you, or maybe he legitimately didn’t want to.

You didn’t know why you had started to care so much.

You didn’t know about the way he watched your ass when you walked away from him, or the lewd way he sometimes palmed himself right out in the open. You never heard his pants and moans as he got off to the thought of you wrapped around him, and you never got to hear your name rolling off his tongue as he spilled into his hand, hips rocking of their own accord.

Yeah, Zsasz was pretty much head over heels. He was fucked.

He didn’t know why he liked you so much. There was just something about you, something about the way you walked and talked that always made his cock hard. He had reached the point where you would enter a room, and his pants would grow tight. Did you even know? Could you possibly fathom the torture you were putting him through every single day in Roman’s penthouse? Zsasz wanted to grab you and bend you over something, anything, hike that cute little skirt up and just go to town on your cunt. He dreamed about it at night, he wanted it, he craved the taste of your pussy...

But he couldn’t have it.

Not yet.

He would wait. He could be patient. After all, Roman came first. Roman always came first. Zsasz needed to focus on keeping his boss calm and happy, and he couldn’t afford to get distracted, no matter how much he wanted to press you up against the windows and fuck you so that the entire East End could see who you belonged to.

No matter how badly he wanted it, Zsasz would wait.

#victor zsasz #victor zsasz x reader #zsasz x reader #bop zsasz #birds of prey zsasz #birds of prey imagine #birds of prey x reader #roman sionis #dceu #dc imagines

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omg-im-such-a-masochist · 3 years

Text

🥃 🍸THE PERFECT OPPORTUNITY 🍸🥃

Prompt: This was a request by the amazing @mindofasagittaruis

***The ‘Enviado por’ means ‘Sent by’ 😉 just so you don’t need to google translate that 😂

Word count: Long

Pairing: Mob!Roman Reigns x Reader

Warnings: Just an insecure Roman, fluff and some cussing

Tagging Roman Lovers: @ziasaph @mindofasagittaruis , @jibbles26 , @reigns-5sos and someone who’ve gained a special place in my heart, the lovely @nicolewoo

Notes: I will say, I just loved the idea 🥰 I’m a sucker for a beautiful, strong man like Roman insecure to get dumped! It’s too sweet ❤️ Thank you for trusting me with your request babe, I hope I made justice to it! I had fun writing this one 😉 and it’s entirely written in Roman’s POV. Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings,english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla),check out my other stories if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊) and if you’re comfortable with it,please let me know what you think? Some feedback is always welcomed and appreciated ❤️You can check out my other stories typing ‘masochist writes’ on the search bar on my page and my newest story as a fixed post.Okay,now let’s get to the fun part,shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉

“You’re pathetic Roman!” I said to myself staring at the rearview mirror “Just get inside and ask her out, is not that difficult for fucksake! You’re one of the top mob bosses in the USA and you’re afraid to get dumped? How fucking old are you anyway? Whatcha gonna do if she say ‘no’? Run to your mommy and cry? Fucking man up and stop being such a pussy!”

I gather the bit of courage that I gained from my own little pep talk and walked out of the car to the liquor store.

From outside I saw her, beautiful, standing there talking to John. A 75 years old lady’s man, who always used to flirt with her, he said he did it to not loose his mojo upon the ladies. She always laughed, and sometimes even flirted back saying that someday she would not be able to resist his dinner invitations.

I walked in, the little bell on top of the door made my presence being known, and went straight to the whiskey section.

“That would be a total of US$ 137,65 John”

“Is there any chance of me getting a discount in form of a date?”

She chuckled “John, I’m in my work place, I’m afraid I can’t. But I guarantee to you that if I owned this store, I would be more than glad to give you the date discount” She laughs softly

“Well, I tried” He sighed, pretending to be upset but the amusement on his voice said otherwise “I’ll see you next week, doll”

“Bye John, ‘til next week...drive home safe and say hello to you grandkids for me”

I heard her stepping out from the back of the counter and making her way to the whiskey section. *Fuck, she’s coming! Get it together Roman!*

“Good evening Mr. Reigns, how can I help you tonight?”

She is stunning! Not in a pampered way, but in her simple self. Her makeup consisted in mascara, some blush and lips lightly stained in a cherry red color; her short bob hair was always either down with one side tucked behind her ear or up in a ‘beehive’ style thing that it was a fucking mess if I’m being honest, but she looks beautiful in it and can easily pull it off like it was the most perfectly neat hairdo; her clothes are always simple: jeans or leggings, cropped t-shirts, tank tops, bands t-shirt or hoodies; always wore tennis shoes: adidas, nike, puma...never once I saw her wearing heels or dresses/shorts/skirts.

I’m used to be around women who always look extra as fuck: too much makeup, too tight low cut dresses, 6 inch heels, extremely long hair..it gets to a point where they all look the fucking same! Like fucking clones of each other, you take one of them to a dark corner of a club excuse yourself to the bathroom and when you’re back you can’t find her in the crowd because everybody has the same hair, the same dress, the same outfit. Yeah, I’m not gonna be a hypocrite and say that they don’t look like a perfect wet dream ‘cuz they do! But that’s the problem: the perfection.

It’s too much, too fake, too rehearsed.

They all look the same, give head the same, moan (they actually scream) the same and they all want to get fucked the same way: on all fours! Because they think that to be considered an unforgettable fuck(apparently) you must fuck in the world’s oldest ‘slut’ position: on your hands and knees!

It gets to a point where is predictable and boring as fuck, don’t get me wrong, I love to fuck a woman on all fours, but not all the time! To be honest with you, it turns me on more to see her facial expressions, the way her eyes are semi closed in pure bliss, her mouth hanging open as she softly moans as we fuck than to look at the back of her head.

That’s why Y/N is different, she’s not like a shallow one night stand fuck, when I first saw her I told her that I’d be back the next day to buy more drinks to a party I was hosting, the next day I expected her to be in her best outfit/makeup/hair to ‘impress me’, but when I walked through door she was in an Aerosmith old t-shirt, black leggings, nike tennis and that beehive on top of her head.

She looked at me, softly smiled and say ‘Oh you’re back! Can you please give me 5 minutes to finish this up and I’ll gladly help you get whatever you need’

I was stoked! She didn’t acted different to impress me, she was her own simple yet ‘imperfect’ self and I knew from that moment that I’ll end up falling for this woman, hard!

And here we are, 6 months later, definitely in love with her and nervous like a fucking 13 year old boy who will ask his school crush out, shitting on his pants with the thought of her saying no.

“G-Good evening Y/N, how are you?” *Did I just fucking stutter? Oh send me to hell..*

“I’m good, Mr. Reigns, thank you for asking. You?” She tucks her hair behind her ear

“Good, good..but please, I already asked you to call me Roman”

“I think that would be disrespectful, sir”

“C’mon, you don’t call John who’s 75 sir, why would you call ME sir?”

She chuckled lightly “That’s a very good point Mr. Re- Roman..so what can I do for you today?”

*Give me your number* I thought

“I would like to try something...different” I smirked

“Oh” She blushed “Ok..umm whiskey-wise?”

*No, YOU-wise* my mind screamed

“No, not whiskey, I once heard you say that you know a lot about liqueurs and I never tried those, so I was wondering if you could help me with that?”

“Of course, please follow me”

As I followed her to the liqueur section I had a good view of her body, specifically her ass and fuck me didn’t it look insanely good on those leggings! I was glad I could shamelessly stare at her thick ass without having to look at it discreetly. I can already imagine myself fucking that ass and having those thick thighs on my shoulders as I eat her pussy...fuck, my cock twitched with the thought and I had to adjust myself

“Ok, what type of taste do you prefer? Sweet, spicy, fruity, b-“

“Hello beautiful!” A guy abruptly interrupted her and she looked behind her

“Mark, can’t you see I’m helping a customer?” She barked

“I’m a customer too, beautiful” He smirks

Who the fuck is this clown? And can’t he see we’re in the middle of something here?

“But he got here first! So I’m helping him, then once he’s done, I’ll help you” She turn around to face me again

“I’m sorry Roman, where were we?”

“I don’t think is very professional of you to call him by his name, beautiful” The asshole huffed

I swear I’m gonna punch this fucker’s face!

“I call you by your first name!” She said to him, without even bothering to turn around

“But I’m different, you know that” He got closer to her “I’m here to invite you to go on a date with me”

WHAT??? You have got to be fucking kidding me! This loser? Thinks he stands a change with Y/N? I don’t even know if she wants to out with ME for crying out loud! And I’m pretty, rich, successful and can protect her from everything. I bet with you that this jackass still lives at his mom’s basement!

“Mark, please, I can loose my job if someone sees me stopping helping a client just to chat with you” She pleaded “Can we talk about this later?”

Talk about it later? What the fuck? Is she really considering going on a date with this fool?

“I know beautiful I’m sorry, it’s just that I had to say something you know?” He caresses her shoulder and I’ve never felt the urge to break someone’s fingers slowly and one by one like I do now!

“Mark, please, later” She whispered

“Ok, ok, I’ll be back when your shift is over” He left as she said thank you

“Roman, I am so incredibly sorry for this inconvenience, I-“

“Are you gonna go out with him?” I didn’t even let her finish her apology

“I beg your pardon?” She said confused

“Are you really considering going out with him?”

“I don’t know....I guess so”

“That clown?” I huffed “Are you doing some charity work or something?” I cackled and she seemed offended

“I’m sorry for what I’m about to say Mr. Reigns but, Mark is a nice guy! Of course his approach is sometimes clumsy but he has a good heart! I will not tolerate you mocking him! Everybody deserves a chance for a date. Not all of us are surrounded by perfectly sculpted and beautiful Victoria’s Secret models to take home to our pathetically big mansions” She measured me from head to toe “So yeah, I might go out with him!” She crossed her arms in front of her chest visibly annoyed and we’re back at the Mr. Reigns bullshit!

I was speechless...did she just defended that loser because she liked him? Or was she pity of him? There was something off...the way she almost kicked him out of the store when he interrupted us seemed more at an annoyed tone than an in love one. Also, why did she measured me like that, almost judging me...implying that I was the one who took models home when the only one I wanted to take home was her! I don’t take women home with me, I take them to a hotel room or something but never home! Apart from Y/N of course, I WANT to take her home with me. But I could swear that the scorn tone of her voice had an almost jealous undertone to it, was that possible?

Then something clicked

“Would you like to go out with me then?” The words just slipped through

“What?” She whispered, confused she might have heard it wrong

“I asked if you would like to go out with me then?” More confident this time

She blushed “I’m sorry I-I don’t understand

“You said that everybody deserves a chance to go out on a date, so what about me? Do I get that chance too?” I smiled at her

Her eyes sparkled “I guess I would be a hypocrite if I said no, huh?” She teased with a smile of her own

“Oh big time!” I smirked “But we both know that you’re not a hypocrite, right Y/N?” I closed the distance between us

“No, Roman I’m not” She chuckled softly

“So what do you say about selling me your favorite liqueur and we’ll take it to my pathetically big mansion so you can show me how to properly drink it?” I whispered, lips inches from hers

“Sounds like a plan” She whispered back

“Can we seal it with a kiss then?” I caressed her cheek and she nods in agreement

And man, I couldn’t be more thankful for that jackass given me the perfect opportunity to finally ask this beautiful woman out....

Please let me know your thoughts on this, if you’re comfortable with it. I love hearing your guys feedbacks! It lights up my heart ❤️😘

#roman reigns one shot #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns smut #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns #wwe x reader #wwe smut #wwe one shot #wwe imagine #wwe fanfiction #request #masochist writes

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smol-and-grumpy · 4 years

Text

Golden Cage - Chapter.11

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: She’s a spoiled little princess — at least that’s what people say. Her father is the King of all Kings, the man who everyone fears. Then, along comes Dean Winchester, the one guy who manages to see into her soul, but — — is Dean really who he says he is?

Chapter Warnings: Teasing, violence, angst

WC: 5607

Beta’d by: @deanwanddamons <3

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

Become a Patron ~ Buy me a coffee

Y/N’s in Dean’s bedroom, getting herself ready while Dean talks on the phone. It rang after he came out of the shower and he walked into the living room. She doesn’t know if it’s to give her privacy or if he doesn’t want her to hear. Either way, she doesn’t have time to dwell on it because she has to get herself ready for a meeting. The first outing that she’s allowed to have in the name of the family.

Her clothes are all laid out on the bed and while she applies moisturizer to her body. She puts the outfits together in her mind, thinking about what would suit her best, what would be the best outfit that’ll show that she means it. An outfit that shows that she’s a woman who can keep up with the men. Nothing too revealing, she guesses, but something fierce enough to make them gasp. Her mind’s setting on the pencil leather skirt, now she just has to see what blouse would fit best with her skirt and the shoes she’s packed.

Dean’s still talking outside and she hears that he’s trying to keep his voice down. She slips into her panties. The fabric of the little garment rubs a little too hard against her sensitive clit. She thinks about ditching them later, wonders if it would matter. Nobody will know if she’s wearing panties or not, right? Also, there’s chafing from Dean’s scruff that doesn’t support the argument of her having to wear panties. She’s sensitive all over, feels like her nipples are raw from his sucking, too. God, that man will definitely be the death of her, but it’s not like she minds.

Everything is super sensitive now because they did it again in the shower. Dean’s shower is not as spacious as the shower at her home, but they made it fit and he fucked her standing up against the wall, pressing her back into the tiles and hooked one arm below her knees, lifting her leg up while he rubbed at her clit.

Blood rushes to her head again when she thinks about it.

So now, she’s standing here, and debates between two blouses. One’s white with long flowing arms and the other one’s red, sleeveless, with a bow around her neck.

She can’t possibly make up her mind because she likes them both, so she decides to ask Dean. He knows exactly where they are going, he would know what would fit, wouldn’t he?

Still in only her panties, she clutches the blouses to her chest to hide that little modesty she still possesses, even though she knows that Dean’s seen it all already anyway, and he probably likes her best without any clothes on at all. Knows it, because he had stated it a couple of times, and it always makes her flustered all over.

Dean’s standing at the dining table and her cheeks get hot again thinking about what they’ve done on there. He’s not dressed either, a towel hanging dangerously low around his hips, making him look absolutely delicious with damp ruffled up hair. The scars on his body have a certain edge to them, but the freckles round the edges up. He’s devine and that’s not really fair. He has no business being so perfect.

Biting on her bottom lip, she approaches him, but he’s not paying her attention. He’s looking down to the hand that fidgets around the back of a chair. It’s as if he’s a little nervous, a little on edge.

“Hey,” She hisses and Dean frowns, but still he doesn’t look.

“Dean!” She tries again and he only holds a forefinger up at her to shush her while he concentrates on listening to the conversation. He still doesn’t look up at her. It’s as if he tries to avoid her at any cost.

Rolling her eyes, she tries to think of a way to get his attention, grinning when she gets a flash of an idea.

Y/N drops the blouses to the floor and shows him her boobs, “Hey!” She hisses again, louder, while she squeezes them together and jiggles them around.

Well, she gets his attention now, but he’s looking less than amused. Dean frowns, and waves at her to stop.

Then she hears it.

“Yes, sir, goodbye.”

Fuck.

He’s talking to her dad.

And she just flashed him.

Dean hangs up and sets the phone onto the table and exhales deeply before he rubs a hand over his face.

He turns to her after and speaks. His voice is loud and he sounds annoyed, “Jesus fucking Christ, princess!”

Oh, so now she’s back to being princess. She guesses that when he’s upset with her, she’s forever going to be princess to him.

“You can’t just show me your tits when I talk to your father! Fuck, now every time I talk to him I’ll see them in my mind!” He growls low.

She’s smirking and tries not to laugh because honestly, that is a little funny?

Dean begs to differ though, because he strolls closer. One hand goes below her chin, fingers cupping it and turns it upwards to meet his eyes while his other hand cups around one of her tits, palms kneading, fingers pinching at her nipple, she squirms.

“What is it that couldn’t possibly wait until I’m finished with a call?”

“I don’t know what to wear,” She mumbles and Dean groans out in frustration before he bends down to kiss her.

“You know,” He says when he parts, his hands leaving her completely to pick up her blouses from the floor, “One day, you’re going to kill me with your bratty behavior.”

She grins as he hands the blouse to her, “You like it, though?”

At least she hopes he does. Like, he knew what he had gotten himself into when it all started, so he really can’t blame her for acting the way she does.

He rolls his eyes briefly, but it’s all fake because he’s grinning now when he bends down to peck her lips, “Love it.”

Smiling, she holds up the blouses and lifts her eyebrows.

“White.” He nods toward the white blouse, “Although I would love to see the red on you, but I think white would suit better tonight. Makes you look more like someone to take seriously and not some eye candy hanging off someone’s arm.”

“Thanks,” She says and thinks that’s what she likes about Dean. He says things like it is, doesn’t sugarcoat it and he’s not just babbling to shut her up.

“Go get dressed before I can’t hold myself back from taking you all over again.” He smacks her ass on his way to the bathroom.

“Who said I would mind that?” Y/N calls after him and Dean chuckles.

She almost threw him off his balance with her jiggly tits. It’s not really fair. And really, he hopes that her tits won’t be the first thing that comes to his mind when he sees Azazel’s caller ID.

The boss had informed him that Benny would be at the meeting too and that rubs him the wrong way. What’s so fucking important for Benny to be there anyway? Azazel made it clear that Benny’s not allowed to interfere with Dean’s business, but Dean will only believe it when he sees it.

He’s gnawing on his bottom lip as they drive towards Atlantic City.

It’s a two hour drive and they made it halfway when she turned in her seat. The leather underneath her ass makes a loud sound. That’s right, she’s wearing leather. He almost choked on his own drool when he saw it.

Dean gets weak for leather. Especially for her in leather. The skirts so tight it accentuates her round ass. He couldn’t help but spank down on it a couple of times while they walked down the stairs from his apartment. Every time she would stop and stare at him with a rolling of her eyes and every time, Dean would giggle like an idiot.

It’s good between them. They’re relaxed. He likes that. Would like to keep it that way, but he knows that it’s just only the start of a hardship he might have to go through. She might have to go through.

After they laid in his bed for a while, with her in his arms, he stroked her back, with neither of them speaking. Sometimes there’s just nothing to say and he liked that the most. The comfortable silence. There were no sorry excuses, no thoughts of having made a mistake, no small talk just to get over the awkwardness of the situation after the lust has worn out. And that was the moment that he thought about the future for the first time. That he could just grab her and run away. Nobody would know, nobody would find them. It would be good, he just knows it. It’s only — Dean doesn’t know if she would want it. If she was even ready to leave everything behind, and the last thing he wants to be is selfish. But yeah, maybe he would do it all for her, leave everything behind and screw up the Bureau for a woman. Which is really a stupid thing to do, but it would probably be worth it.

They drive past a big advertisement for Roman Empire. It’s the biggest and apparently the best casino in Atlantic City. Of course, it is. The Roman’s wouldn’t settle for second best.

“We’re going to meet the Roman’s?” She asks curiously, and Dean can hear it in her tone of voice that she’s not really keen on meeting them.

“Yeah, they have some proposals.”

“They’re dicks.” She mumbles under her breath.

Dean has to chuckle at that, because she’s not wrong. The Roman’s are the number one mob family in Atlantic City. They are the equivalent to the Lehne’s. They own every casino, hell, they even own New Jersey. Their wealth is immense.

He cocks an eyebrow at her, “You’ve met them?”

“Yeah, at gatherings where Dad allowed me to attend. Dick is a real big dick. I heard he moved to California, set up his own thing there. His father is a sleazeball.”

“I know,” Dean reaches over, takes her hand in his, “Just, don’t let your emotions overrule your head, okay? We’re there to make deals.”

“Ugh,” She groans with an eye roll.

“That’s the spirit,” He smirks and takes her hand, places it to his lips to kiss it quickly.

She sighs, “What if he touches me?”

“Who?”

“Zachariah, Dick. Both of them.”

Frowning, Dean looks over to her, “Have they done that before?”

“Yeah,”

Dean’s grip tightens around her hand. Jesus, he feels like punching something all of a sudden.

His voice is deep, and he growls a little when he speaks again, “Does your father know that they have touched you inappropriately?”

“He was right there.”

Fucking Christ, now he really wants to shoot someone. His heart absolutely aches for what she had to go through growing up in this family. Growing up in a world reigned by men. It’s not a great environment for a girl to grow up.

“I’ll put them in their place if they do,” Dean says. It’s the only thing he can say, really. He can’t erase the past, but he can make sure that he’s here in the present.

“What if you aren’t there?”

Dean catches a glimpse of her little pout when the street light illuminates up the inside of the car.

“I’ll always be beside you.” He assures her, because yeah, after finding out that piece of information, he doesn’t really have the urge to leave her unattended at all.

“Promise?”

He places another kiss on the back of her hand, “Promise.”

They arrive and Dean gets out of the car, walks around to open up the passenger side for her, and holds out a hand to help her out.

“You know they have valet parking, right?” She asks before she takes his hand.

Dean shrugs, “I feel better knowing where my car is and can reach it at all times.”

She only frowns a little as she gets out.

“Remember, no weapons.” He says as she’s standing before him.

She waves her clutch around, “Duh, how can I fit that into my clutch?”

“Y/N,” Dean looks at her sternly. She thinks he’s joking but really, he’s not. It’s the rule. No fucking weapons when they come in peace. The Lehni’s have the same rule and it’s only fair that they play by the Roman’s rule, even though Dean hates the rule himself. He looks at her again, cocks one eyebrow because she’s still looking at him like she’s innocent. Dean hates that look because she’s not. She’s not innocent when she grins up at him while she licks at his asshole, she’s not innocent when she moans for him to fuck her harder. No, she’s not and he shouldn’t get weak, “Put your gun back. Now.”

Rolling her eyes back dramatically, she lets out a loud sigh. Dean has to hold back a chuckle. He watches her lift up her leather skirt, watches her take out her gun from her holster, and turns around to put it into the glove compartment of his car.

“How did you know?” She whines when she turns back to him, bracing her arms across her chest and fucking pouts.

“I’m just good like that,” He grins cockily before he weaves an arm around her waist to help steady her in her heels as he guides her towards the entrance of the casino.

They are led into the back of the casino, where there’s a strip club. Dean has since taken his arms from around her waist because it’s back to acting like they aren’t more than what they are. It pains him a little. Irritates him a whole lot. And from the way her body’s drawn to him, leaving him no space, he can see that she’s not entirely happy about it either.

He leans closer, nose brushing against her temple, “Just this, okay? I’m right here.”

She seems to nod. Dean can’t really see it because she’s following the employee who’s walking ahead and he waits a couple of seconds, walking a safe distance after her.

The door to the strip club opens and loud music spills out of it. The room is dark, neon lights everywhere. It’s a tad over the top, he thinks. A little cheap, like who the hell uses neon lights nowadays anyway? It makes him feel like he’s in a dingy strip club and not a high-end one.

Dean seems to be the only one who thinks it’s tacky because the club is packed. There are girls dancing on stage, girls grinding on men’s lap and he notices Y/N stalling by the door. She doesn’t look comfortable at all.

He reaches out, touches her arm, “I’m going first,” He whispers, “Follow me,”

She does, follows him and catches up to him pretty quickly. They are walking beside each other now and she takes glances left and right while they still follow the employee around.

“You've been to a strip club before?” She asks underneath her breath.

“Yeah,” He chuckles.

“Huh,”

“Not lately, though.” Dean tries to talk himself out of his mistake, but he knows that he’ll probably get an earful when they’re alone.

“Huh,”

She crosses her arms over her chest while they walk and he thinks it’s adorable how she’s jealous. It makes him a little proud to know that he’s not the only one feeling the things he does.

The employee leads them along across the club, and there were a couple of girls who gave him the eye, some of them make themselves known by bumping into him. Dean tries his best not to look. Tries to fucking stay focused and walk on because he’s here to do his job and well, maybe it’s also because he doesn’t want to upset her. It’s not like he’s interested anyway. Not when the girl he actually wants sitting on his lap is her.

Y/N only rolls her eyes as she sees him trailing along, and Dean smirks, which earned him another eye roll. He thinks it’s cute. She’d deny.

They were led onto the second floor where there was a group of chairs sitting around a table. They spot Benny and his two right-hand men Ed and Nick. Nick has risen up in his ranks, as Dean can see. What Dean didn’t account for was to see Azazel sitting with them, his two bodyguards standing behind him. Women in skimpy bikinis are serving them drinks and there’s one sitting on Nick’s lap.

“You didn’t tell me they’d all be here,” Y/N whispers through her gritted teeth, loud enough for him to hear.

“I didn’t know about your dad, okay?”

“But you knew about Benny?”

“Yeah, from the phone call which you flashed me your fucking tits.” Dean hisses while they walk over slowly, so they can have this exchange of words.

They both try to smirk while not letting people see that they are talking to each other.

“Oh, please,” She chuckles, “You love them.”

“I’d love them more if I wasn’t associating them with your dad,” He says and nods at the waitress who just walked past him.

“I wish you would have told me at least about Benny.”

“Why? Would that have changed your mind?”

“No, but I would have worn fucking panties.”

Dean stops mid-stride and she looks back at him with a grin. He watches her walk up to her people, greeting them and taking a seat next to her father.

He wished that she would have kept that fucking detail to herself, though. Now he won’t be able to think of anything else than her sitting there with nothing underneath her fucking leather skirt. And she’s probably still dripping his cum while she looks her father straight in his eyes.

This is pure torture and he’s been tested, he knows.

This fucking girl.

Y/N greets her dad with a kiss to his cheek and sits down, only nodding to the other men around.

“I think you should leave,” She says to the girl in Nick’s lap, even before Dean sits down and the stripper looks at her in bewilderment. She smiles politely, “You heard me.”

“I’ll tell her to leave whenever I want,” Nick snarls.

“And I’m telling her to leave now. It’s not a fucking party, Nick. We’re here for business.” She says firmly, stands by her point that nobody should listen in. They can’t be careful enough with possible snitches around.

Dean sits down next to her, rights his suit jacket and nods towards Nick, “You heard the lady, man. Ditch the stripper,”

Nick gasps and looks over to Benny for some back up but Benny ignores him completely. Reluctantly, he pushes the stripper away and the girl stands up and struts away angrily.

“Since when does she call the shots around here— Ow!” Nick yelps out and everyone knows that Benny kicked him under the table.

God, her dad really works with an immature bunch of men, doesn’t he?

Her dad leans towards her, whispering in her ear and she tunes out all the other ramblings she hears from Nick, “You’re doing good. It’s a whole new side I see. I like it. Did Dean explain to you and teach you what tonight’s all about?”

“Yes, he did.” She tries to not think about other things he taught her about, the things that make her whimper in pleasure.

“Good,” Her dad nods.

Five minutes passed until a big bulky bodyguard walks in and calls for them. Zachariah is ready to meet.

They have been led through another door where they step into an elevator. The eight of them, plus the bodyguard, stand close, chest to chest and she’s glad Nick and his filthy hands were far away from her, glad that it’s Dean who’s next to her, not so glad that her dad is on her other side of her.

Y/N feels something warm between her legs, feels Dean’s cum trickling out thickly, has to squint her eyes and frowns a little. Of course Dean notices, looking down at her and raises his eyebrows. She doesn’t say anything, can’t possibly talk when everyone can hear her.

When they arrive, everyone scrambles to get out of the confined space pretty quickly, but Dean stays.

He looks down with worried eyes, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” She says, “Your cum dripped out. I might need some tissues.”

“Jesus,” Dean mutters under his breath and shakes his head as he steps out of the elevator.

She can’t help but grin as she catches up with the lot.

Goddamnit, he’s really being tested right now. How can he sit still and concentrate when he knows she fucking leaks him while sitting next to her fucking father?

She’s going to be the death of him, Dean just knows it.

They arrive at a heavy door, which is held up by two other big bulky men and they step in, where Zachariah is already waiting, sitting at a big round table with his son. The table only fits six, so Azazel takes a seat, beckons for his daughter and Dean. Benny takes a seat too and Dean still hasn’t figured out why the hell the dude’s here.

“Do the two losers need to be here?” Zachariah asks into the round, pointing his chin towards Ed and Nick and all eyes are on Benny.

“Uh, no, they don’t.” The man says and Dean has to hold himself back not to speak that Benny too, doesn’t have any business to be here.

“Then they should leave. Go to the club. My treat.” Zachariah says with a sleazy grin.

Y/N was right when she said that he’s a sleazeball. Dean has to smirk a little thinking back on how she said it.

The two men’s faces light up and they immediately disappear, muttering something about a lapdance while Benny shakes his head. Benny’s probably questioning his entourage right now. A bunch of unprofessionals is what they are.

“Why are you here?” Zachariah asks and he stares at Y/N, his tongue darts out to lick his lips and Dean balls his hands into fists. God, he would just love to punch that fucker for looking at her like that.

“She’s dipping her toes into the business, Zach,” Azazel says, and maybe Dean’s mistaken, but he can hear something in the tone of his voice. Something that says that Azazel’s a little proud.

“Sweetheart, you shouldn’t be doing this,” Dick, who hasn’t said a word until now says, smirking a little, “Don’t you have somewhere else to be? Spending daddy’s cash or organizing some catering for parties?”

Dean’s lips are already parted, he already wanted to put Dick into place, but Y/N cuts him off.

“I actually do have better things to do, yes. But you wanted a meeting and that’s why we’re here. Can’t choose where you’re born into, can you, Dick? I bet you have better things to do in California as well.”

She says it with a calm voice, but he knows that she’s not. Her hands are shaking a little and he knows that she wanted to say so much more. She wanted to run her mouth, put Dick into place, but she chose to stay professional. He absolutely admires her. Dean lays a hand on her thigh under the table, some kind of a reassurance that he’s here. A way of telling her that she’s doing great so far.

Dick looks at her father, a frown on his face and Zach just clears his throat, “Right, so shall we? We want to get this over with before we go to the next part which is more relaxing to me.”

Dean doesn’t even know that there’s a next part, but he agrees that he too, wants to get this over with.

“We’ve been in contact with Winchester before,” Zach nods at Dean and Dean nods back, “We have not one but three shipments on their way over from China. It’s the biggest deal we’ve ever made with the Chinese. All we need are some old warehouses where we can set up labs.”

“You don’t have enough of this in New Jersey?” Azazel asks and Dean knows why. Azazel is keen on dealing but not keen on cooking the drugs himself.

Zach laughs heartily and elbows his son who starts to laugh too, “No we don’t. Not for that amount of goods,”

“How many are we talking about?” It’s Benny who asks.

“About sixty to seventy warehouses.”

Azazel whistles under his breath, “That’s a lot.”

“It’s a lot of money we can make.” Dick chimes in.

The King clicks his tongue and exhales loudly, “What’s our cut?”

“We will provide the infrastructure, provide the cooks and the people manning the warehouse. We will pay you rent.” Dick says, and adds, “But we know that you don’t like to have your fingers deep in cooking so we’ll reward you for renting it out to us. 30% of the profit.”

“That’s how much?” It’s Y/N who asks. Dean’s a little proud, a little stunned too that she followed the conversation. Well, he knows that she’s not dumb but they don’t. Everyone is looking at her now and notice that she’s still here.

“Roughly about $600k a month,” Zach says proudly.

“So, say, we let you rent seventy warehouses and you make $30k a month per warehouse. That would mean you make over $2m a month and will give us our $600k cut,” Y/N calculates it in her head, “How can you be so sure that you’re going to make that much money?”

“Girl can do some math, congratulations!” Zach shouts out in mockery and really, Dean has to fucking hold himself back, “We know this because it’s not the first time we’ve cooked, sweetheart.”

“And why only 30% then? We have more risks, people are disposable, warehouses aren’t. If they find a warehouse, it will somehow lead back to us. We have more risk than you do, I’d think we need to raise the stake.” She drums on her notepad with her ballpoint pen while she cocks an eyebrow at Zach and Dick.

Christ, Dean finds that side of her highly attractive. It turns him on when she has them by the balls.

“What do you suggest?” Dick looks at her with a smug grin on his face.

“50%,”

“What?” Zach spits and Dick has to calm his father down, laying a hand on Zach’s arm.

“What’s your guarantee for us?” Dick asks as he feels his dad calming down enough.

She looks into the round and Dean just knows that she has something in mind. He can see from the glint in her eyes, sees it in how her lips curve up into a smile.

Tonight before they left, she wanted to look at the files and she sat there for an hour, looking through what little information Dean had, and when she finished, she started to smile and that’s when Dean knew that she wanted to lead the deal and he knew that he’d gladly let her. It’s also for her to show her dad that she’s capable, that maybe Azazel doesn’t have to tighten the leash around her as much as he had. That maybe, when this deal is a success, she’ll get to have more rights, gets to have her own car, gets to have a little freedom. Dean fully supports it.

Dean hands her the documents with a nod and she smiles at him. Her dad cocks an eyebrow while Benny frowns. They have no idea what’s going to hit them. Well, he doesn’t really know either, because she wouldn’t tell him, but he trusts her.

Y/N rolls out the map of the city where she had circled warehouses they own in red circles. She stands up and braces her hands on the table, “As you can see, we own 120 warehouses and counting.”

“Did you know we own that much?” Azazel whispers to Dean behind her back and he shrugs.

He did, Azazel doesn’t have to know it, though.

They sit in silence when Y/N continues, “My idea is to move production around. Never stay in one place for too long. That will be less suspicious for the neighborhood of the warehouses. That way, the chance of getting busted is as good as zero.”

“But that��s a lot of moving infrastructure around.” Dick states.

“Would you rather you get busted?” Dean chimes in, he just had to, “When they get us, they’ll get you.”

“No, of course not.”

“Here’s my offer,” Y/N says and sits down, folds her arms on the table while she looks Zachariah straight in the eye, “120 warehouses to do as you please. Only seventy will be occupied at the same time, not more, not less. 50% of your profit.”

They are all holding their breath as they watch Zach and Dick turn in their chairs to whisper something into each other's ears. Dean reaches over under the table again, squeezes her thighs and she looks at him, grins a cocky grin. Jesus, maybe he just fell in love a little more than he already had.

Azazel leans back in his chair and over to his daughter, “You did your homework, princess. I’m proud.”

Her face beams.

It’s adorable really how she longs to be recognized. How she wished to be heard all those years. It’s really sad too, and there’s the thing Dean feels in his gut again that makes him nauseous. Makes him want to protect her at all cost and show her that she’s worth fucking everything.

“Okay,” Zach says after clearing his throat, “Congratulations, Y/N, you got yourself a deal there. Our lawyers will be in contact.”

Her smile grows wide, and he can see that she’s all giddy. Dean really wants to take her into his arms but he knows that it’s uncalled for. That he shouldn’t act like he’s closer to her than what he is.

Azazel nods his approval, smiling a little and it’s creepy. Dean had never seen the man smile before.

“Great, onto the next part, the weapon deal, are you involved in that too?” Zach asks, and Dean knew that he missed something because he wasn’t involved either.

“Nobody knows, because we just only talked about it briefly last time, Zach,” Azazel says.

“Okay, then please everyone who’s not involved may leave the room.” Zachariah announces and Dean can only look at her.

She has to leave and she knows it, even though he doesn’t want her to, but it’s not a made deal and she has no clue, she can’t stay, not when her dad is here, too. Subtly, she nods at him, as if she understands.

“You can go to the club, Y/N, my treat!” Zach says, it’s more mockery than anything else and Dean really really wants to punch that fucking dude square in the face.

The meeting is over quicker than he thought it would be. It’s just talks that bore him to death with weapon deals that aren’t even fixed yet. Dean really doesn’t know why she had to leave the room and he feels so fucking bad because he promised her that he’d be by her side. It’s a good thing that he had control over Dick and Zach, though. So at least they couldn’t have come on to her and touch her inappropriately.

Everyone is making their way up the elevator, with Dick and Benny in deep conversation and Azazel and Zach. Apparently, Dick and Benny has some other issues to work through which Dean shouldn’t know about, but as hard as Dean tried to eavesdrop, he can’t make out a word because Zach was raving to Azazel about the casino and the strip club, inviting him to show him around because they have this new spa in the newly build wing where you can even gamble while relaxing. It’s ridiculous really.

When they get out of the elevator, Azazel taps Dean on his shoulder, falls into step beside him, “Can you take my daughter home? I’ll probably stay the night and I don’t want her to wait and stay with me. I know she doesn’t like to be around them.”

Dean knows who he means by them. So the little detail didn’t slip Azazel’s eyes and Dean’s actually quite glad that the man knows how uncomfortable the men are to his daughter.

“Of course,” Dean answers, has to fucking try not to show too much emotion.

“Thanks,” The King nods, and places a hand on Dean’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze of approval.

God, Dean doesn’t know if he’d still be thanking him if he knew that Dean’s already fucked his daughter not once but three times.

They make their way down the stairs to the club and already something seems off. The people are talking in hushed tones, the strippers aren’t stripping and the girls aren’t dancing.

Dean spots it then, spots her at the back, where Nick has pinned her against the wall, his hand around her throat. People around them watch in horror and Ed tries to talk Nick out of it, but the dude already lifts his hand and slaps her across the face.

Chapter.12

#golden cage #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #nathalie writes

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anobscurename · 4 years

Text

ocean eyes – chris evans

previous part: PART XVII — masterlist

concept: you surprise chris for his birthday while he's shooting in italy. the slowest of slow burns. the ever anticipated part eighteen of many.

pairing: chris evans x reader

word count: 4.3k

warnings: fluff. just prepare to melt.

author's note: everyone can thank @tonystankschild for this one. she was deep in the dm's asking for fluff and i intended to deliver the fluffiest of fluffs.

You liked to consider yourself a rational person at the best of times.

That consideration, however, was entirely negated by the fact that you were now on a flight to Italy to surprise Chris for his birthday. There was nothing rational about it.

But you had saved for this trip, and Chris had done so much for you in the past year or so, that you had wanted to do something for him.

And you had decided that no one should be alone on their birthday, no matter how far away they were.

You had caught a flight from Boston after making the forty-four hour roadtrip to drive Dodger there, not having the funds to fly him to the Evans' household. The fees of bringing an animal on board were astronomical, and you were still balking from how high the number was.

Chris was a wealthy man, however, and those types of costs never quite fazed him as much as they did you.

So you had driven him to Lisa's, a thousand thank yous on your lips as she delivered you to the airport to minimize on the extra cost of leaving your car at the airport parking lots.

Scott – who had still been there from the Patriot's game, "tryin' to get as much family lovin' as he could" as he put it – smiled knowingly at you when you had brought Dodger in.

"You go, baby vamp," he'd whispered to you. It was an outdated saying, but you knew it anyways, and laughed him off.

"We're just friends, Scott."

"Yeah, just like these highlights are from the sun."

He had given you a tight hug, wished you luck on your trip, and – like Lisa would later do at the drop off – made you promise to wish Chris a happy birthday from them.

When you touched down in Italy, it was early morning, that hovering between night and dawn.

You had once again called Chris' agent – Mark – to get details on the shoot, ones which he reluctantly handed over.

You thought that perhaps he was trying to save Chris the PR scandal of being seen with another woman while publicly in a relationship with Lily, but you had pointed out that you had been clearly established as friend of the couple with your global third wheel memes. It didn't take much pressing, because Mark knew how much you both cared about each other and how happy you being there for Chris' birthday would make the actor. So he emailed you the shooting location, with a schedule and call sheet. The tagline was very quick: "Don't interrupt shooting :)"

After a quick shower at the affordable three star you'd rented for the weekend, you got ready in spite of the weariness the plane left you with. Hot water did wonders to waken you, and a touch of makeup never hurt.

You stepped out in the warm breeze, the wind toying softly with the skirt of the summer dress you wore. You easily hailed a cab, and, after failing at the pronunciation of where you were headed, let the cabbie read the location off your phone.

The first person you saw when you got out of the car was Chris.

He was stood off to the side by the craft table, a crewmate quickly doing a last minute adjustment to his hair as he went over his lines. Dressed in an Italian pinstripe suit, you remembered what the film was about.

The indie flick told the tale of an arranged marriage between the son of an Irish mob boss and the daughter of a New York mafia don. Most of the film, however, was set in Italy, where the son, Mickey, had to travel to win the favour of the extended mafia family for the blessing on the union. Briefly, the scene with the strawberries popped into your mind.

You were stopped by security, but Mark – who had been waiting for you – vouched for your admittance.

You stood a little ways away from Chris, within eyesight, but not obvious. It was a surprise, after all.

You called him, watching from where you leaned against his trailer wall. Chris, ringtone blaring for his attention, quickly patted down his suit pockets before finding the device. His glance at the caller I.D. was followed by his whole face lighting up, soft smile on his lips.

"Hey there, Sleeping Beauty," he said into the receiver. "Isn't it a little late in L.A.?"

"It is," you replied. "But it's your birthday tomorrow, and I couldn't resist."

"You know, I've been told I'm irresistible before," he chuckled. "Just never thought I'd hear you say it."

"Well, what can I say? Suits do it for me," you smirked, dropping your first hint.

Scott was right. Chris really could be clueless. "You'd love the one they just put me in then," he murmured, distracted by the food on display at the craft table as he perused the options. "A real classy number."

"What are your plans for the rest of the weekend?"

"They gave me the weekend off to celebrate, but you know me... Probably will go wine tasting by myself and look at some art or something. Oh, man, read a book. Yeah, haven't done that in a while."

You watched as he plucked a strawberry from the table, and your stomach fluttered.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Hmm?" He hummed as he bit in to the sweet fruit.

"Aren't you sick of strawberries by now?"

Chris froze, eyes wide in shock. Running his tongue over his teeth smoothly and swallowing the bite, he began swiveling his head, trying to look out for where you may be hiding. "Where are you?" He grinned.

"Guess."

And then he saw you.

And then he had you wrapped in his arms, the force of the running tackle hug sending your back crashing into the trailer, metal creaking.

You laughed breathlessly, hanging up the call as you hugged him back.

"Chris," you strained against the bone crush of his fierceness. "Oxygen–"

He loosened his grip, but didn't take back his arms. "You have no idea how much I missed you."

His whispery breath in your hair as he deeply inhaled the apple scented shampoo clinging to you had electricity coursing through your veins. "My bones have some idea, I think you might've fractured a rib."

The rumble of the chuckle reverberated through his body and into yours, and heat dusted your ears and cheekbones. "Sorry, I just can't believe you're here. I had to make sure you were real." And then, the question you'd expected: "Where's Dodger?"

"Dodger is in Boston with your mom. And I'm here, I'm real," you reassured him, smoothing your hands over the back of the meticulously woven cotton of his suit. "But you also have a real job to get back to."

"Oh, right," he groaned sheepishly. In his joy, he'd almost forgotten where he was. "Just hang around for a bit, we're only filming a little today before we're off."

So you did. You got given a seat, just off camera, and watched Chris do his thing. His performance was breathtaking, the way he embodied such a dangerous man. It was enough to make you flushed, the square of his shoulders, the confidence in his stride – the danger lurking under Italian silk lined cotton. You'd never quite seen him like this.

And it thrilled you to see a man you usually felt so safe around look so menacing.

It was the love proclamation scene that served to be your undoing, however.

The director kept hounding Chris, demanding retake after retake. He wanted that genuine love to flow through, and it simply just wasn't.

"Think of someone you love," the director suggested. "Put them in your mind's eye. You have a girlfriend, yes? Would it help to bring a picture for you to look at off camera? Tell the picture you love her. Someone get me a picture of this man's lover, please! Imagine you've never told her how you feel. And you've been feeling it for a while, and even though it was very... what is the English word? Uncommon? It was uncommon meeting circumstances you met... You love her. Si?"

Chris grit his teeth and nodded, ready to comply. And once the picture was brought out, the call for quiet on set rang out.

But once the director called action, Chris didn't look at Lily. Your heart clenched, your breath catching in your throat.

No, his eyes found you.

"I love you," he said the words you'd never thought you'd hear him say – at least not to you – and the sincerity in his cracked voice was overwhelming. His eyes were watery, relief dropping his shoulders – as if he'd kept this inside for too long and a weight had been lifted. He sighed it again and again, as if it was the only thing that was going to save him, as if it's the only words he'd ever known.

And when the director called cut, singing Chris' praises, he was still looking at you.

———————

"I still can't believe you're wearing that," Chris chuckled.

You dipped your sunglasses lower on the bridge of your nose to observe him critically. He was leaning against a Vespa, arms folded, the sleeves of his loose white cotton button down rolled up to his elbows, barely containing the bulge of his muscles. Black trousers clad his legs, on his feet a pair of black Italian leather loafers he'd gotten as a gift from his co-star. He wore his own pair of sunglasses, hair swept back, being tousled by the passing breeze.

The statement had been made in reference to the silk scarf you wore, twisted around your neck delicately in a way that was reminiscent of Audrey Hepburn. "If I'm going to have a Roman holiday," you giggled, tripping a little on your way to the Vespa – Chris moved to catch you, but you righted yourself, "you best believe I'm going to fucking look like it."

You had gone to a wine tasting in a vineyard on the outskirts of Rome, somewhere far into the countryside. You had both goofed off the entire time, earning yourselves scolding looks from the sophisticated tourists and the locals, who had wanted a peaceful afternoon at the farm.

You sniffed the wines, obnoxiously listing all the strange terminology the haughty wine connoisseurs would throw around casually, before taking your sips.

It became somewhat of an inside joke between the two of you, finding yourselves lagging behind the group because you couldn't stop laughing. And whenever you were shot a dirty look, it would only make you laugh more.

"You're meant to taste it," he'd whispered to you.

"I am tasting it," you shot back.

"No, you're chugging it like a sixteen year old whose parent made the unwise choice of leaving unsupervised."

The tour guide had been eyeing the two of you up, waiting for your silence. The rest of the tour group turned their critical gaze too, and you gave Chris' foot a soft stomp to get his attention.

Both of you shut up, giggling under your breaths as Chris had practically bowed in his gesture for the guide to continue.

But now it was time to go back to the inner city, and Chris had waited patiently for you by the Vespa while you'd gone to freshen up a bit. The cobblestones were hell for your tipsiness, but you were wine and laugh drunk, and hadn't a care in the world.

"You know how they say there's always that one pair of annoying people on wine tastings that ruin the experience for everyone?"

"They do?" Chris' brow creased in question as he grinningly handed you your helmet.

"Of course they do. Well, I couldn't find them, so it must be us."

Chris clicked his own helmet in place as he caught sight of the hostess by the front door giving you both a dirty look. "What finally gave it away?"

He slid easily onto the Vespa seat, heeling up the kickstand and righting the orientation.

"Hop on, princess," he beckoned you with a nod. You regretted wearing a dress for this part, but you were serious about the Roman Holiday aesthetic.

Serious enough to risk flashing someone as you mounted the scooter behind Chris. But luckily you didn't.

"Hold on tight," Chris called over his shoulder. You complied, encircling your arms around his waist, pressing your bodies together.

You could feel his heart rate pick up, but before you could think too much about it, he took off – cobblestone streets and ivy climbed buildings flying past you in your bliss.

————————

Two of the three worst things that could've happened to you while riding a scooter in the countryside did.

The scooter had broken down and it had started to rain. Not only rain, but fucking pour. You were drenched through to your skin, pulled over on the side of the road, Chris trying to kickstart the machine into working again.

After his fifth attempt, he came over to you, squinting in the rain.

"It's not working," he shouted over the droning rainfall. "Let's just find some shelter and come up with a game plan!"

There were nothing but open spans of green fields and wheat as far as your eyes could see. But a little while back, just over the hill, there had been lights in the haze of rain, a little nondescript sign on the side of the road that you'd whipped past suggesting the shelter that you so desperately craved.

"I think there was a house back there," you yelled back. "Maybe they could help out."

He nodded imperceptibly in the shower of droplets, hand on the small of your back, fitting so seamlessly in the curve of your spine, and began guiding you.

You both dashed across the road, and then you were tearing through the long grass in a shortcut to the twinkling beacons of the lights in the windows, looking like eyes peering at you in the darkness.

Somewhere along the way, you'd found out that Chris was a little ticklish at his waist, and after you'd discovered it – he'd flinched away from you and begged you to stop, but you'd continued just to antagonise him – you wouldn't let it go. It took you much longer to get there than would be normal, but soon, you were both stood, shivering and drenched on the porch step.

There was a sign on the door telling you it was a little inn – an underused bed and breakfast, most likely for road weary travelers on their way to Rome.

You didn't bother knocking as you entered the lobby, spilling inside with laughter still on both your lips. Muddied shoes squelched, and your sodden clothes dripped onto the floor.

You immediately moved to the fire while Chris went to go confer with the front desk.

His two months in Rome had taught him a fair amount of Italian, but it was still quite broken, and he found himself floundering with a lot of the words.

The landlady – a portly old woman with an extraordinarily kind smile and crows footed crinkles by her eyes – understood the predicament.

She explained to him in English – loud enough in the silence so you could hear over the crackle of the fire – that the road services would probably only be available to come out so far tomorrow morning, and that it'd be best to stay the night.

She didn't seem like someone who would scam you into staying at her little roadside hostel – even going so far as to give Chris some white fluffy towels for the both of you.

He paid for the last room available with soggy money, and returned to you, fresh towels in his arms.

He draped one over your shoulders first, and when you reached out to cling it to your frame, your fingers brushed.

That same electricity jolted through you both, travelling with lightning quick velocity down both your spines to spark alive the restless butterflies you had well and truly thought you had put to rest. You were the first to withdraw, allowing Chris to put a towel over himself.

He ran it through his hair, the pieces that had been plastered to his skin with water raising into spikes.

You laughed, reaching out a tentative hand – giving him ample time to withdraw should he need to – to smooth it back and away from his face.

But your laughter died down, as it inevitably did whenever he looked down at you like that. Because how the hell were you meant to function when his eyes were on your lips the way they were now?

And you damn near choked when he started leaning down, lips pressing closer to yours...

But before they touched, he broke into a gut-wrenching smirk, moving past your tingling and awaiting mouth to whisper in your ear. "I dibs the shower."

And then he was sprinting up the stairs.

You were so in shock that for a minute you couldn't even register what had happened, and when you did, you cursed at him, following him up, swearing you'll skin him alive.

And all the while, the landlady was watching the two of you, a knowing glimmer in those kind eyes. She muttered something in Italian, one she repeated many a time during your stay, a saying you would come to know as "young love."

And she didn't even care that you had tracked mud into her hotel and soaked the carpets through from your wet clothes.

She just cared that there were still kids in love in this world.

———————

Once you had both taken a shower and were wrapped up in your complimentary hotel bathrobes, you realised that neither of you were tired.

Your clothes were laid out, sprawled over the backs of chairs, drying by a fire Chris had taken the liberty of building.

So you both decided to go downstairs, and see what activities you could engage in with the other guests. It would do well to help you forget the prospect of having to share a bed with Chris.

According to the landlady, this was the last room available. And of course, Chris had offered to sleep on the floor, as gentlemanly as ever.

But you couldn't do that to him on his birthday, so you'd told him it would be fine, as long as a pillow fort was built to prevent any unnecessary contact.

The common area was woefully empty, save for a couple of sleepy looking musicians, poised atop their makeshift stage, on the brink of passing out on their instruments.

When you and Chris entered, however, they livened up, striking up some traditional Italian melody you may have heard before in passing.

It wasn't that late, so the bar was still open, and Chris managed to purchase a bottle of wine.

Most of the seats had been stacked on the tables, and he helped you pull some down before seating yourselves.

He poured you both wine, and you sat there in your robes, listening to the music.

The landlady came by, at some point, to light the tea light candle on your table.

When you thanked her, she said the same thing she had said earlier – in Italian, so you struggled to understand.

Chris, however, who had been taking a hearty sip of wine, nearly choked. "Mille grazie," he winked.

She scoffed, patting his cheek affectionately, much like a grandmother would her grandson. You didn't catch much of what she said, aside from one word. Cacciatore, in reference to a flirtatious man.

"What did she say to you?"

"She said amore giovane. It means young love."

You turned to try and find her – wanting to correct the innocent mistake of having her assume that you and Chris were in love. Fact of the matter was, there was still with Lily, and you couldn't stand to think of the PR nightmare it would be if it were to get out that he was at an admittedly romantic bed and breakfast with you of all people. "Oh, no, we aren't..." You faded out awkwardly. "He has a girlfriend!"

"Actually," Chris said softly, as if he had been wanting to tell you this for a while. "I don't. Not anymore. Not since the last day at the Hamptons."

Relief flooded you, followed by something undetermined – hope, you would later discover – before you were floored with absolute sympathy. "Oh, Chris. Chris, I'm so sorry."

You reached over to link your fingers in a reassuring hand hold, and his focus was pulled to that singular touch, that point of joining.

"If there's anything I can do to help..."

"No, it just..." He swallowed, finally pulling those ocean eyes to you. "It just wasn't meant to be, I guess. She wasn't the one."

His eyes told a story much deeper, hinting to something that you didn't have the strength to uncover. You'd been hurt too many times by these false feelings, you really weren't sure how ready you were to face them once more.

"What happened?"

"She thinks I'm in love with someone else." When you didn't say anything again – too stunned to do so – Chris cleared his throat. "I, uh," he tried for a smile, "I believe you owe me a dance."

It took you a while to recall him asking you to save him the last dance at the charity gala, and when it registered, you grinned, questions of who dissipating. "Let's go dance."

The band saw you and Chris approach the dancefloor, and immediately switched to a slow waltz. Chris took you in his arms, and as you both swayed to the music, you could almost imagine you were back in Vegas, before Lily, before everything, when the biggest problem in your life was that you had kissed your best friend on your birthday.

His body was so warm pressed to yours, that you felt every tense muscle in your body relax. That hand – forever fitted so perfectly to the groove of the small of your back – traced delicate patterns through the flannel of the gown.

Your cheek was on his chest, and your eyes were closed, and you couldn't see the way he was looking at you.

Because in his eyes – those beautiful ocean eyes – was a love. The love that you were incapable of seeing, but one that everyone else had – including Lily.

There was worship in every sapphire fleck, and there was pure adoration in the inky depths of his pupils.

And as he held you, body nestled so perfectly against his, knew that the angels would damn themselves for you. Because he sure as hell would.

———————

When Chris had gone to get more drinks – the bottle you had shared being finished – you had gone to speak to the musicians.

And surprisingly, they had what you had requested.

Chris was uncorking the bottle when you had hopped up on stage.

There was no microphone this time, and the musicians were glad to receive a break, joining the landlady at the back for a drink – leaving you and Chris alone in the room. Their departure caught his attention, and he glanced at you, before doing a double take.

You were sat at the edge of the stage – feet dangling off to graze the floor every now and then – and in your hands was a ukelele.

The memory of the last time you played for him was chased away by the excitement of this next song.

You were tuning it when you finally noticed Chris watching you. He had that look in his eye – one you were so used to seeing, but one you never quite let yourself understand – and he slowly sank into his seat to watch you. He propped his head on a fist, candlelight flickering in his eyes.

And without much of an introduction, you plucked at the strings delicately, beginning a ukelele rendition of "La Vie En Rose."

His smile broadened into a beam when you started singing. Never had he felt absolute peace like this – at least without having you in his arms.

Hold me close and hold me fast

This magic spell you cast

This is la vie en rose

You looked up at him, your expression earnest. You always found yourself being much more capable of conveying emotion in your actions, rather than with your words. Words made things messy. Music... that was beauty incarnate.

When you kiss me, heaven sighs

And though I close my eyes

I see la vie en rose

Chris breathed in deeply, his heart stuttering, but heavy in his chest. The hold – that spell – you so flawlessly cast on him was rising again, and he knew, with all certainty, that he would not wish to break the enchantment for anything in the world. He was Icarus, and you were the sun – the magnetic pull he felt was that strong.

When you press me to your heart

I am in a world apart

A world where roses bloom

Your eyes found his and you grinned, beguiling him. As you played the interlude, you mouthed to him "happy birthday;" and it was. It was perhaps one of the happiest birthdays he'd had in a while, because it was the one he'd spent with you.

And when you speak, angels sing from above

Everyday words seem to turn into love songs

His heart was swelling, throat thick with emotion. His eyes burned, but he was almost certain the tears gathering was from a lack of blinking. He didn't want to pull his gaze away from you, not for a single second. He had told you he had loved you earlier that day – and this felt like more of a response than he'd ever receive. He knew how difficult it was for you to say those words. And he was okay with that. He'd take what you gave, and you were giving him this – a song as lovely as the woman who was currently singing it. And he thought he was going to simply die when you looked up at him with those eyes, and that smile, and that voice reaching out to him, singing that final verse.

Give your heart and soul to me

And life will always be

La vie en rose

Little did you know, you already owned those things.

You'd owned them since the night you met.

#chris evans #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans/you #dina writes #chris evans fluff

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tricksters-captain · 4 years

Text

Roman Sionis / Victor Zsasz imagines - Make You Forget

AN: I gave up towards the end I’m sorry!! I hope you still like it though!!

Overall Summary: You just started working for Roman Sionis and once he and his partner take notice of you, everyone knows you’re in trouble. After being broke up with, Roman takes his chance...

Pairing(s): Roman Sionis x Fem!Reader x Victor Zsasz

Word count: 3,397

Warnings: Smut. Threesome. Strong language. Submissive reader.

“New girls. We open in ten minutes. Ground rules...” A older woman who had interviewed you for this gig gathered you and two other girls in front of the bar. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat as she looked down at a notepad in her arms. Were the other girls this nervous for their first shift too?

“...First rule, smile; look pretty. If you smile, you’re approachable, you keep the atmosphere happy, happy customers buy more drinks. Sell as much as you can; how well you do at selling drinks equals whether you’re good enough to stay. You have a month trial for this. If anything happens during the night to do with Mr. Sionis, you do not react or leave or question it. If Mr. Sionis wants you for whatever reason, you say yes. You do not speak to any cops, detectives or journalists without my permission and my permission comes when I get permission off Mr. Sionis for you. It’s sink or swim here, ladies. I suggest you grab your life jacket and try to swim.”

You couldn't say you were surprised at the rules. This was Roman Sionis’s club and Roman was known for his temper and mob deals.

“Appearance is also important. Make an effort. This is one of Gotham’s top clubs, not a goodwill.” You felt her judgemental eyes scan you over which prompted you to go to the bathroom before the doors opened finally.

You tightened your ponytail and took out your eyeliner pencil and lipstick to top up your makeup.

Your uniform was revealing and very uncomfortable. A metal-like frame hovered over your short skirt and nude colour top and you could tell you’d have to get used it to quickly in order to not stand out. You pulled at the fabric to try and cover you a bit more but it didn’t do much.

“You ready, girl?” One of the other new girls smiled at you as she too fixed her appearance in the mirror.

“Here’s to working for Roman Sionis.” You exhaled with a forced smile before you both left the restroom.

You couldn’t help but celebrate as the month came to an end and your name was one of the top positions on the girls board in the break room at the club.

All the girls who served at the club had a leaderboard for who could make the most sales (just for some healthy competition) and so that your manager could kick the ass of whoever wasn’t pulling their weight.

“Damn girl. Took me at least three months to make top 5 girls.” One of the more experienced employees approached you and slung her arm around your shoulders as you looked up at the board.

“Guess I’m just naturally talented.” You smirked playfully,

“You mean just insanely gorgeous.” She winked at you but you just rolled your eyes at her compliment.

“I gotta head home. Anniversary to celebrate.” You pulled your bag onto your shoulder and zipped up your coat.

“Have fun.” She wiggled her eyebrows at you and you responded by lightly pushing her shoulder as you also wondered about the dirty thoughts in both of your minds.

It was your three year anniversary with your boyfriend and even thought things had been hard, you were actually quite excited.

It didn’t take long to get across the east end of Gotham to your apartment but by the time you opened the front door, you expected to be greeted by your boyfriend, he wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

You frowned, slumping your bag onto the floor and kicking your shoes from your aching feet.

“Chris?” You called out, placing your keys and phone onto the countertop before getting a glass from the cupboard for some water.

Suddenly, you could hear whispers and scuffling around in the bedroom.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You sighed, placing the glass onto the side as you mentally prepared yourself for what you already knew you were about to see.

“Could you have been a cheating asshole on the day that wasn’t our anniversary?!” You stormed through the door to see Chris pulling his shorts up his thighs.

“What are you talking about?” Chris looked up at you as he tied the drawstrings.

“Don’t act dumb.” You opened the door to the closet to see a half naked girl. There wasn't many other places to hide in the small bedroom.

“Get out.” You ordered her to move as you reached for your suitcase.

“I’m sorry––” The girl was quick to leave the room and the apartment.

“What are you doing, (Y/n)?” Your boyfriend tried to approach you but you swung around, shooting him daggers as tears built in your eyes.

“What are you doing, Chris?!” You snapped. “Because I’m leaving. Now.”

“Fine! I’m sure you’re earning plenty with Roman Sionis’s as your boss... So, maybe it’s time for you to move out.”

“Yeah! Maybe it is!” You retorted.

You almost winced at the way he said Roman’s name like it was almost dirty to work at the Black Mask Club.

“You know, I knew things weren’t right between us but I didn’t expect you to bring a girl home to our bed in our apartment, Chris.” You admitted as you rushed to gather your things.

“Don’t act so innocent, (Y/n). You work for Roman Sionis in that god awful club.”

“Yes! I work for Roman Sionis but I haven’t slept with him!” You were enraged that he would even dare say something like that to you.

You reached for your phone, tossing the keys from the counter at your boyfriends head as you made your way out.

You were fortunate that you didn’t have to work the following day but you knew you'd be back soon enough and you considered if you could even cope with facing crowds of men.

The breakup hit you fully when you laid down that night on your friends’ couch. You tossed and turned as you replayed the relationship in your head, torturing yourself until the light streamed through the blinds and filled the apartment.

“You look like shit. What happened?” Was the first thing said to you when you walked back into the club.

“Me and Chris broke up.” You managed to say.

You knew you looked a mess. Your eyes were puffy and ringed with dark circles. Your hair hung down where it would usually up and styled for a shift to keep it out of your face.

You glanced at the rota as the girls tried to hug and comfort you but you only felt worse when you saw what duty you were on.

“Kate, can you swap with me just for tonight? I can’t bare with being a ring girl tonight.” You cringed at the hoop tray that hung up on the wall.

“No problem.” She sent a weak smile your way with sympathy in her eyes. You tried to return it before you started to apply makeup which didn’t manage hide how rough you looked.

You ran your hands through your hair trying to add some volume but gave up after hearing your manager yell for you to get out on the floor.

“Here. You need it.” One of the girls passed you a shot before you left to go to the door and you downed it gratefully; holding onto the burning taste

You felt even more uncomfortable in your uniform that night since you knew you weren’t looking up to standard.

You were grateful that you’d only be clearing tables and taking the occasional orders rather than prancing around in the hoop but it wasn’t even halfway into your shift when you started to let your mask slip.

You ran your hand through your hair and sighed deeply as you made your way through a crowd with a tray of empty used glasses.

You regretted not keeping your eyes up when you felt yourself hit something, sending you and the glasses to the floor.

“Shit.” You cursed as shattering glass scattered everywhere and bringing everyone’s attention to you.

Your head shot up as you apologised, praying you didn’t bump into anyone important when you met eyes with Victor Zsasz, of all people.

“Shit.” You let the word escape under your breath as your eyes went wide.

“What the hell is going on here?” Roman rounded Zsasz from the booth he was sat in and starred down at you.

“Mr Sionis. Mr Zsasz. I am so sorry. It’s my fault.” You rambled as you rushed to pick up the shards of glass.

Roman starred down at you with a studious look as you hissed, cutting your hard on a large piece of glass.

He recognised your face as he had noticed you before (which was rare with his workers). Within the first two weeks, the girls had warned you that Roman and Zsasz had been watching you as you worked. You just excused it as him watching you to see if you were doing a good job as his new waitress but even you had to admit getting attention from an attractive man like Roman was flattering.

“Oh mistakes happen! Darren! Get a broom and a mop! Get this glass off the floor so we can all continue dancing!” Roman’s bright smile returned to his face as he put on his show. The bartender, Darren, didn’t waste anytime doing as he was told.

“Come here, little bird.” Roman took hold of the hand you hadn’t injured and brought you off your knees. “Now go back and deal with that nasty little cut you’ve got there. I’ll send Mr Zsasz to check on you.” Roman beamed at you.

“I’m really sorry, sir.” Your skin was on fire as Roman cupped your hand with both of his.

You tried to best to get to the back room as fast as you could where Dinah helped you with your hand.

“I’m so dead. I can’t lose this job.” You felt as if you were going to break down and cry again. Could more go wrong?

“You’re a top girl. If anything you’ll get a slap on the wrist and a warning.” Dinah didn’t sound too convincing as her eyes flickered up to yours.

“Or I’ll get knife across the wrist.” You were panicked by the fact that Roman said he’d send Zsasz back to check on you. He was Roman’s right hand man and you had heard all about his adulation for knives.

“Knock knock.” Zsasz appeared in the doorway, his shoulder leant against the frame while he looked down at the both of you.

“Mr Zsasz––” You jumped to your feet but he was quick to interrupt.

“––Roman wants to talk with you upstairs.”

You felt your stomach drop and all you could do was bob your head ‘yes’.

Zsasz lead you back out onto the floor with a nod of his head to follow.

You walked through the crowded club to a backdoor which you knew was the stairs to Roman’s apartment above.

You peered over your shoulder to see Roman meet Zsasz’s eyes and nod his head all the whilst speaking with one of your coworkers by his usual booth.

Fuck.

“Take a seat.” Zsasz licked his lips as he too sat down on one of the sofas.

You sat down on one of the empty couches and tried your hardest to slow your heart to avoid a panic attack.

Zsasz’s eyes seem to burn through you like Roman’s touch did.

“Miss (Y/n) (Y/L/N).” Roman’s voice coerced your eyes away from your hands and straight to the man himself as he sauntered in. “My girls seem to like you a whole lot. Practically begging me not to fire you. Not that I’d dream of it. You make me a lot of money, Miss (Y/L/N). Not to mention that I am a fair man.” Roman spoke as he walked down the hall toward you and Zsasz.

“One of the little birdies told me that you aren’t exactly having a great time right now; couch surfing, long term boyfriend cheating on you.”

“How did you?” You already knew the answer. The girls downstairs told him hoping he’d cut you some slack.

“See what I don’t understand is, why any man would throw such a sweet face out onto the street?” Roman approached you, lifting your chin with his gloved finger. You couldn’t tell if you were even breathing at this point.

“I––”

“––Shhh.” Roman hushed you, “Don’t you worry anymore, little bird. I’m here to make it all better.” Roman crouched down, running his finger up your jaw to your cheek.

Zsasz smirked as he watched.

“Mr Sionis.” You started,

“Call me Roman. Please.” Roman’s finger dropped to your plump lips. His eyes watched as his name glided off your tongue.

“Roman. I don’t know what’s...” You could barely speak with Roman being so close. His smell was intoxicating and his touch was electric.

“It’s okay, little bird.” Roman repeated his actions from the club where he took hold of your hand and brought you to your feet.

You couldn’t look away from his eyes. A blue like nothing you’d seen before, only highlighted more by the thin dark liner.

“This can’t be comfortable. Let’s take it off.” Roman’s fingers brushed over your the cage of uniform.

Roman waved Zsasz over with a spin of his finger and soon Zsasz was behind you pulling off the metal overskirt and top off your body.

You were then left in your nude-coloured undershirt and skirt stood in-between Victor Zsasz and Roman Sionis.

“Tell me, little bird. Do you find Mr. Zsasz, here, and I handsome?” Roman has a mischievous look his eye as he watched you. His tone was playful and it only excited you further.

Your mouth was completely dry as you struggled to find the right words to answer.

“She does, Boss. I caught her watching you just last night.” Zsasz stepped closer to you, brushing your hair off your neck as he placed his chin above your shoulder, smiling at his boss.

“Is that right, Mr. Zsasz?” Roman step forward himself.

“That’s right.” Zsasz’s laugh rang in your ear as he answered.

You closed your eyes and tilted your head back slightly as your chest rose and fell whilst your heart raced.

“Well I think we should help our (Y/n) here forget about that stupid old boyfriend. What do you think, Victor?” Roman suggested,

“Please.” You were almost shocked that the words left with your breath.

Roman chuckled at the unexpected answer but didn’t waste anytime.

He circled his finger once again at Zsasz and stood back.

Zsasz’s lips brushed against the back of your shoulder causing a shiver to ripple across your body.

He sucked and nipped along your neck as you leant into his body. Your hand automatically reaching up and wrapping around the back of his neck to bring him even closer.

Zsasz kept his hands on your hips, his nails digging into the skin through the thin material of the skirt.

You could feel how hard he was against your ass as he held onto you.

Within minutes, your skin was then enflamed by a different touch.

Roman placed his hands on your waist, above Zsasz’s. He brought the both of you closer as he pressed his forehead against yours, his breath hot on your cheeks.

“Now that’s a good girl.” Roman purred as he admired how you looked giving into Zsasz’s touch.

Roman guided your hands away from Zsasz and brought them to his own bulge.

Your eyes snapped open to see the lust dark in Roman’s eyes.

You leaned forward, kissing Roman with a desperation.

Zsasz let you move forward, letting you go just to rip the back of your shirt and skirt, leaving you in your underwear.

You rushed to unbuckle Roman’s belt and dug your fingers into his boxers, taking hold of him.

Roman deepened the kiss, hungry for more.

As you went to pull down the man’s pants, he suddenly spun you around.

You gasped at the sudden change but willingly reached towards Zsasz who had slowly started to unbutton his shirt as he watched you and Roman. You finished the job by pulling it down his arms, his lips on yours immediately after.

You moaned into the man’s mouth as his tongue explored yours.

Roman’s hands slithered round your stomach and cupped you, rubbing the wetness of your panties and smirking against your neck.

“Victor.” Roman pulled away, pushing his hair back off his flushed face as he caught his breath.

Zsasz took the hint and kicked off his pants, pawing himself through his boxers as he took your hand and walked slowly backwards towards the bedroom.

Roman poured himself a small glass of whiskey and threw it back as he followed you both.

The minute you stepped inside, Zsasz backed you up against the wall, pinning your wrists above your head as he rubbed himself against you. The delicious friction almost enough to make you cum on the spot.

Roman placed his glass down on the bedside table and the sound seemed to send a signal to Zsasz as he pulled from the wall and pushed you down onto the bed.

You fell back, starring up at the men still stood above you.

Your stomach fluttered as you saw the desire in their eyes and their erect members poking through their boxers.

“She was your pick, boss.” Zsasz looked between you and Roman.

Roman's eyes devoured your body before he joined you on the bed.

His lips fought against yours as you both kneeled up on the mattress.

Zsasz placing himself behind you again.

“Enough.” Roman growled as you pumped his cock with your hand.

He forcefully turned you onto your stomach, your ass facing the man and your face in line with Zsasz’s waist.

“Fuck.” Roman cursed as he slid his tip against your slit, his cock twitching against your wetness.

You exhaled a shaky breath as he pressed himself against your entrance, stretching you out slowly.

“What a naughty little bird.” Zsasz cooed as his hands tangled themselves in your hair, raising your head to look at him.

Zsasz removed his length from his boxers, he wrapped his hand around it and brought his tip to your lips.

“Is the naughty little birdie gonna be a good girl?” He asked as his pre-cum wetting your bottom lip.

You closed your eyes tight as Roman began to pump in and out of you slowly, letting you adjust to his size. He groaned at how tight you were around him.

“Good, Boss?” Zsasz teased his boss’s moans with a thick smirk on his lips.

You took that moment to lick up Zsasz’s tip.

But Zsasz didn’t like teasing.

He thrusted your head forward with his hands in your hair.

You didn't object as you took his member into your mouth.

“Fuu...” Zsasz closed his eyes as you began to suck.

You let pleasure overtake you as Roman picked up his pace, you matched his pace to Zsasz and soon you were all a sweaty, panting mess.

Roman slapped your ass as you pulsed around him and let out a loud growl.

Roman’s thrusts were getting so fast and a rough you had to take Zsasz from your mouth and use your hand.

Roman rolled you over and propped one of your legs up onto his shoulder.

You looked up at Zsasz as he placed a thumb in your mouth, hooking your cheek as you pumped his cock above your face.

Roman grew sloppy as he neared his end and you cursed as you too came undone.

Zsasz finished before Roman, cumming into your mouth as he threw his head back.

It didn’t take long for Roman to spill his seed onto your stomach as he pulled free.

“That’s our dirty girl.” Roman held your chin between his thumb and fingers as he praised you.

Zsasz left and returned with a towel as Roman pulled his pyjama trousers on over his naked half.

“Here.” Roman handed you a yellow pyjamas shirt that seemingly had his face printed on it. “Mr Zsasz please take our little bird to the shower so that she can get cleaned up.”

#roman sionis #Roman Sionis imagines #Roman Sionis x reader #Victor Zsasz x reader #Victor Zsasz #Victor Zsasz imagines #birds of prey #birds of prey imagines #Ewan McGregor #Ewan McGregor imagines #Chris Messina #Chris Messina imagines #harley quinn #margot robbie #imagines #imagine #smut

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superfanficnatural · 4 years

Text

The Ultimate Betrayal Teaser

Pairing: AU Mobster!Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: When a rival mob boss decides to show up in your town to claim their stake, you and your partner, Dean Winchester, band together to claim your territory over your city. When sudden and unexpected motions are set in place, who will be the one that gets betrayed?

A/N: This is the “teaser” for a new mobster AU I’m going to start writing. If anyone would like to be added to the tag list, please let me know! As always, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Smut, 18+ NSFW, Oral Receiving (Male), Choking, Breeding, Rough Sex, Spanking, Dirty Talk, probably some others that I can’t think of.

Word Count: 2,967

Masterpost

“I want that shipment of weapons ready for tomorrow, a new rival gang has claimed territory in my town and I want them dead!” you shouted to your workers.

Everyone was moving around the warehouse, preparing the M4A1’s for the meeting at the docks tomorrow. A new mob boss, going by the name of Dick Roman had decided that he wanted to play with the big boys in the city. That being you and Dean Winchester, the kingpin of the drug trade in Kansas. You were rivals at first, your weapons against his drug business. But eventually, the two of you came to an understanding that the two of your businesses combined would be stronger than they would be at odds.

“Ma’am, we have received word from the Winchester, he would like to set up a meeting tonight,” your right hand man came up to you.

“Sounds good, Benny,” you thanked, a small smile lighting up on your face.

Benny had always been a close friend of yours and probably one of the only people to see your soft side. You didn’t allow anyone else to see that side of you, for weakness meant death in this business.

“I’ve arranged a car for ya cher, we’ll be leaving in an hour,” his southern accent flowing into your ear.

“Benny, I told you not to call me that in front of other people,” you softly scolded.

“Sorry, ma’am,” he returned to his professional demeanor.

You clasped him on the shoulder, “Dark times are ahead, we need to make sure that we are on top of everything so we can be ready for whatever Dick Roman does.”

You walked past him and went into your office, closing the door behind you and sitting on your chair, letting out a sigh. You knew that these next few weeks wouldn’t be easy, between keeping relations with Dean and dealing with Dick Roman, you were going to be busy. Picking up the phone and dialing the number, you put it up to your ear, hearing the ringing of the line before the recipient answered.

“Is there a reason you’re calling me?” a deep timbered voice greeted in your ear.

“What’s up with this meeting you called me for?” you responded, sounding unimpressed.

“Do I need a reason to see my partner?” he drawled.

You could practically see the smirk on his face, “Need I remind you that we are doing business together and nothing more?”

“Always work and no play with you, why don’t you just relax? I know I could help with that, I did last night,” he quirked.

You cleared your throat and tossed the memories that threatened to arise at his words aside, “That was just business, as always. Now, what’s the reason for our meeting?”

He sighed, “We need to discuss matters about what we’re gonna do with Dick Roman.”

You sighed as well, “Very well, I’ll be there shortly.”

“Make sure you wear that outfit that just makes me wanna-” You hung up the phone before he could say anything else.

You found yourself pressing your legs together for desperate friction, the memories that had once subsided floating to the surface of your mind. Shaking it off, you ignored the sweet touch you were craving and got back to organizing everything for the shipment you had tomorrow. Double checking the boxes and making sure everything was in order, you cleared everyone from the assignment and turned to see Benny walk up to you.

“The car has arrived, ma’am.”

Following Benny, you got into the black Ranger Rover that was exclusively yours and told the driver to take you to Dean’s compound.

“You excited to see Dean?” Benny asked from beside you.

You turned to him with a straight face, “We are doing business, nothing more and nothing less.”

He chuckled, “I think your definition of ‘business’ is different than mine.”

You slyly smirked, “Oh? And your ‘business’ with Cas is just the same?”

His eyes widened in shock.

“What? You didn’t think I knew?” you chuckled.

He kept opening and closing his mouth, trying to figure out what to say but was failing miserably.

You clasped your hand on his shoulder as you did before, “Look, if you’re happy, I’m happy.”

That seemed to put him at ease as he sighed and slumped back into his seat. You laughed for a bit until the car eventually came to a stop, signaling your arrival. Getting out of the car, you were met with the city lights and crowded streets of people walking by, the refreshing air being sucked into your lungs. You were greeted at the front door of his establishment, The Divinity Nightclub, by some of his guards, them opening the door and allowing you to enter. Once you walked in, you took a look around to notice the flashing array of lights going throughout the building, music blaring through the DJ’s booth as what seemed like hundreds of people on the dance floor. You and Benny walked around the dance floor and towards the door in the back, walking through to see a viewing area with chairs surrounding the edge, a pole on the center stage. It was his more VIP access room, where strippers came out to men with money wafting out of their pockets. Rolling your eyes at the scene, you continued to walk by to the door at the back left side of the room, opening it to see the stairwell that led to the second floor, Dean’s operation.

Ascending the stairs, you were met with men walking around in gas masks and quarantine suits, tables with lights above them shining onto many different products. Meth, Cocaine, Marijuana, and many more drugs sitting on their own respective tables. You walked to the left and knocked on the door to Dean’s office and waited for someone to open it. Cas, Dean’s own right hand man, opening the door for you a few seconds later.

“Hey, Cas, how you been?” you brought him into a hug.

He returned your hug, “Nice to see you, Y/N. I’ve been good.”

Once you pulled away, you saw him make eye contact with Benny behind you and a slight blush arose on his face.

Chuckling, “Why don’t you two go ‘talk’ while me and Dean discuss business?”

Cas looked back at Dean sitting in his chair, silently asking for permission. With a simple nod from Dean, the two of them exited the room, you and Dean remaining. You took a minute to notice the complete contrast of the interior of the room versus what goes on in the other. While both were clean, this room was much more modern and relaxed, the smell of drugs not wafting inside, only Dean’s cologne and natural scent filling the room.

You sat down on one of the chairs across from his desk and crossed your legs together, your dress hitching up your thighs, the action drawing Dean’s dark gaze.

“So, you wanted to talk about Dick Roman?” you tried not to smirk.

He cleared his throat and brought his gaze back to your face, “I’ve gotten word that he’s been organizing something big, and he’s going to make his move soon.”

“And you’re sure this information is accurate?” you narrowed your eyes.

“Yes, I’m sure,” he gave a fake smile.

You huffed out in annoyance, “Dean, at least act professional.”

He smirked and stood up from his seat, walking around the table to lean against the front of it, his crotch a few feet from your face, “You’re always on about professional this professional that. Wanna know what I think?”

You raised an eyebrow.

He got up and lowered his face, his lips mere inches from yours, “It’s just a facade. What you really want is to get down and dirty, completely unprofessional.”

You cleared your throat, “And what makes you think that?”

He smirked, moving his mouth to your ear to whisper huskily, “Because you’ve been aroused ever since you walked in here.” He slowly licked a trail underneath your ear, sending shivers down your spine, “I also know you’re wearing the outfit, the one I wanted you to.”

“Don’t kid yourself,” you attempted to speak in a strong mannered tone but the only thing that came out was a rasped whisper.

You could feel the juices begin to build up within your sex, your body becoming lax and your brain becoming hazy from his deep voice.

He suddenly pulled away and walked around back to his desk, sitting down in his chair and intertwining his fingers, “Let’s get down to business then.”

He knew exactly what he was doing and you were having trouble staying professional, your eyes focused on nothing but him, soft pants leaving your lips. You shot up out of your chair and shimmied out of your black dress, your sexy black lacy thong and bra popping into view. Dean’s eyes dilated and his once self-satisfied smirk turned into a dark look, a predatorial hunger rising within him. Slowly stalking over to the other side of the desk, you looked down at Dean to see him looking at you with nearly pitch black irises. Smirking to yourself, you slotted yourself onto his lap, his thigh in between yours.

“Is this what you said I had wanted?” you seductively whispered in his ear as you left a kiss there, slowly riding yourself on his thigh. Your panties were already completely ruined and the juices from your pussy were beginning to leak onto his pants, a dark wet spot appearing on them.

“You’re lucky I don’t give a fuck what happens to these pants right now,” he gritted behind his teeth, grabbing your hips and harshly rubbing you onto his thigh.

Your mouth parted and a keen whine escaped from your lips, Dean roughly pressing his lips against yours. Ever since he had mentioned the night before on the phone, you were riled up and were desperately seeking your release. Now, you were going to take it.

“So good to me, Dean,” you breathed into his mouth, riding along his thigh.

“Ever since last night, that sweet cunt has been on my goddamn mind,” he grunted, sucking deep bruises into your neck.

You wanted to cum riding his thigh but you were too eager, peeling his hands off of you, you rose up and reached down to unzip his pants.

He was about to pull them down his legs but you stopped him, “Keep it on.”

You smirked and reached your hand in through the hole, pulling out his cock, “Commando, really?”

He smirked goofily, “Had a feeling this was gonna happen, wanted easier access.”

You rolled your eyes and got onto your knees in front of him, looking into his eyes as you left a kitten lick on the tip of his head. His lips parted and his face had a rose color to begin to tint his cheeks. Your eagerness got the better of you once more as you took him wholly into your mouth, wasting no time to instantly begin bobbing your head along his shaft.

“That’s a good girl,” he wrapped his hands into your hair to move it out of your face so he could see you easier.

His praise exhilarated you and you decided to try and make him feel as good as you possibly could. You took him down to the base, his pubic hair tickling your nose as his musk invaded your nostrils. Moaning at his taste and smell, you continued to deep throat him, pulling back until the tip was in your mouth and moving your head back down. His moans and grunts were like music to your ears as you continued to pleasure him.

After a few more minutes, he suddenly grabbed you by the arms to pick you up, “If you keep doing that, I’m gonna cum.”

“That’s the point,” you mocked.

He smirked, “There’s something else I wanna fill up right now.”

He loosened his tie and took it off of his neck, holding it in one hand as he used the other to turn you around and bend you over the desk, using that very same hand to bend over your back. He ripped off your panties and groaned at the slick wetness that registered in his eyes.

“Fuck I’ve missed this pussy,” he growled before shoving his cock right into your cunt.

“You had it yesterday,” you half spoke, half screamed as his intrusion left you breathless.

“Shut the fuck up,” he growled, circling his tie around your neck and using the long rope to hold onto as he pounded into you.

“I’ll use this pussy whenever the fuck I want, wherever the fuck I want.”

You were too busy trying to keep your screams as quiet as possible to even think about retorting. His thick cock was stretching you incredulously and it felt like he was reaching into the deepest parts inside of you. It was as if he was pushing against your cervix, your sweet spot being completely and utterly satiated.

“Shit, Dean!” you choked out, your breaths being forced out of your body with each thrust, the tie around your neck squeezing just enough.

You could hear his slight chuckle behind you, “You’ve missed this cock haven’t you? Missed me filling you up and having you scream out my name.” He pulled you up so your bodies were connected, “Missed having me fill that sweet cunt with my cum.”

He pushed you back down and pulled even tighter on the fabric around your neck if that was even possible, your back arching as he continued to ruthlessly force his way inside of you. The tightness around your neck was making it slightly difficult to breath, but it only heightened your senses, the veins and crevices of his cock inside of you brushing up against your walls in a manner that had you desperately trying to hold off on your release. His moans were reverberating throughout his chest and ultimately reached his thick shaft, vibrating your insides delightfully.

“Fuck it’s so hot to see you like this, all strewn out across my desk, silently begging for more,” he grunted, slowing his pace to slow, hard ruts. “I know a good cockslut when I see one, and the second I saw you I knew you were going to be begging for this cock.”

You were never one to beg, or to bow down to another person. Hell, if you weren’t in this position you would probably be ordering him around. But when it came to the bedroom, Dean was in control, and there was nothing that you could do about it. Something about him brought out your inner darkest desires and you were hopeless in ignoring them. You wanted to beg, but you weren’t going to give up so easily.

“Maybe if you could fuck me better you wouldn’t have to compensate with that mouth,” you choked around the tie.

He chuckled, “Oh, is that so?” he shoved his cock in completely, pulling a whine from your lips.

“Maybe I’ve been too generous, it seems like I’ll have to make you understand where your place is, babygirl,” he growled, slapping your ass with his free hand, hard.

A shout fell from your lips but it was short lived as he cut off your oxygen supply by squeezing tighter on the silk. Your back was arched completely as your head was nearly touching his chest, his hand repeatedly finding its way back to your ass, slapping it feverishly. After around six slaps, you were dripping all over his cock and your ass was raw.

“I knew you’d like it, hell, you like anything that I can give you, don’t you my little cockslut?” he smirked.

You were desperately attempting to hold off on your orgasm, knowing you had to have his permission to do so. The room was filled with the sounds of the slapping of his hips onto yours, your choked cries and his primal grunts, the smell of sex in the air.

His grunts and groans were getting louder and his hips were becoming sporadic, “Fuck I’m gonna breed this sweet cunt, you wan’t to cum, don’t you sweetheart?” he grinned, pulling your back up to his chest and reaching a hand down to play with your clit. “Beg me for it,” he growled into your ear, not faltering in his movements, your pulsing sex essentially begging for release.

“P-please, Dean,” you begged.

“Please what?” he pressed.

“Please let me cum, sir,” you relished him the title.

He moaned incredibly erotic in your ear after your words registered in his mind, “Cum,” he growled, pumping his hips twice more and emptying his seed deep inside of you.

The feeling of his warm cum coating your insides and his fingers on your clit drove you into your climax, screaming out his name as you gushed all over his fingers and cock. After a few moments of the two of you catching your breaths, he slowly pulled out of you and moved out of the way so you could move around the table and grab your clothes.

“Do you have a cloth?” you asked, wanting to clean up the mess inside of you and around your thighs.

He smirked, “No, I don’t. Guess you’re gonna have to walk around with my cum inside of you babygirl.”

You felt a shot of arousal course through you at the thought but didn’t make it obvious to him, instead rolling your eyes as you put on your clothes. Dean was just about done buttoning up his shirt when the two of you heard shots coming from outside of the room, Cas and Benny bursting in.

“We’re being attacked.”

Forevers Tag List: @magssteenkamp @shadowsinger11 @donnaintx @flamencodiva @impala-1979 @talesmaniac89 @winchest09 @malfoysqueen14

Dean/Jensen Forevers Tag List: @akshi8278 @jensengirl83 @lyarr24

Female Reader Tag List: @punof-agun @emoryhemsworth

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