#this is what I meant when I mentioned bruises being like makeup for men | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

berryhobii · 6 months

Text

Down Bad(pjm x reader)

Pairing: fuckboy!Park Jimin x fuckgirl!black!female!reader

Word Count: 8.6K+

Warnings: Smut(18+ but I don’t control what you consume), drinking, assault(throwing things at someone), mentions of objectifying women, mentions of STD tests(everyone’s clean), drinking alcohol(nothing explicit), kind of homie hopping but not really, mentions of previous partners, mentions of dom/sub relationships, reader’s low key a dom🫣, reader’s also bisexual😝, reader’s got that WAP and NyQuil 😺, talks of safe words(comfort and consent are sexy!), oral(m and f receiving), face sitting, unprotected sex(wrap it please), multiple orgasms(m receiving, mentions of f receiving), reverse cowgirl

A/N: Hi babies! I’m back! I recently started a new job so I’ve been kind of focused on that but I’m pretty much finished with a lot of my works. All I have to do his proofread some things and I’ll upload a few things at once. In this work, I described reader as dark skinned. Reader also has a 36 inch buss down middle part😝😝i always see so many stories of the men being hit ‘em and quit them types so I thought it’d be refreshing to make the reader like that instead. This is my first time writing a character like this so I hope you enjoy. Please tell me what you think. This will have a Part 2 as well! I hope you like this. Criticism is greatly appreciated! Stay safe🩵🩵🩵

Yawns and whines sounded from his bed, the body that’s been warming it for the past few hours finally rising from the post coital sleep caused by multiple rounds of intense and rough sex.

The sun wasn’t even up yet, the moon still shining overhead.

“Oh you’re awake?” A voice asked.

The woman’s sleep fuzzed eyes blinked a few times to clear her blurry vision, sights settling on the lean back of the man who just rocked her world hours before.

She sleepily smiled, lifting her tired body from the mattress. The blankets fell, revealing her naked body which had been littered with marks and bruises from his mouth and hands.

Draping her arms over his shoulders, she pressed a few kisses to his shoulder. “It’s still dark out. Why are you awake?”

His head turned slightly to look at her. She was pretty, not really his type but easy on the eyes. Now with messy hair and her makeup smudged, he was starting to think she was only really pretty when done up.

“I never went to sleep.”

Her warm cheek rubbed against his skin before she lulled in low and suggestive tone, “Ready for another round?”

He scoffed a laugh, shaking himself from her hold and standing to his feet. “Nah but your Uber is less than 5 minutes away. You better get dressed.”

Her mouth dropped in shock, sputtering out a, “w-what? What are you talking about?”

He picked her dress and underwear up off the ground before tossing them on the bed.

“I meant what I said. Beat it. I have to go to sleep before work later.” He quipped dismissively with a yawn.

Her hands gathered up the blankets, holding them to her chest, hot shame and embarrassment burning at her cheeks. Whereas his gaze initially made her feel sexy and wanted, now his sharp eyes just made her feel dirty and used. Like some $2 whore.

“But….”

He rolled his eyes, already growing irritated. His phone chimed and he held it up, seeing the Uber was just a minute away.

“Come on. Your Uber is about to pull up. I didn’t know where your house was so I just put in the bar where we met. Is that cool?”

Suddenly, a pillow whacked him in the face with enough force that it actually made him stumble back. Wait a second……what did she say her dad did? Huh, he could barely remember her name, much less what she was talking about in the bar. Truthfully, he didn’t talk her up much before getting her to come home with him. She was easier than most.

He didn’t have too much time to dwell on it before multiple projectiles were firing at him.

“Hey! Hey! Stop!”

He held up his arms to protect his head, sucking and dodging all of the things she flung at him. It didn’t do much, however, since almost every item was hitting him. Damn she had good aim.

“You asshole! You fuck me and then put me out?! Did your mother not teach you any fucking manners?!” Gratefully, she ran out of things to throw.

He huffed, rubbing his side where his fake potted plant had hit him. “You’re insane. Look at how you trashed my room.”

She growled as she pulled her clothes on, grabbing her phone and purse before stomping out in a huff.

“Screw you, Park Jimin! I hope your dick falls off!” She spat in disgust, slamming his door hard enough to shake the walls.

Pfft, whatever.

Park Jimin was a certified womanizer and connoisseur of the primal pleasures. His body count was probably higher than college kids on 4/20. To some, that might seem gross and irresponsible. Who can have that much sex with that many people? And to that, Jimin said ‘be jealous’. Jimin prided himself on safe and consensual sex at all times. Well, there were a few women who he’s braved unprotected for but he always made sure they were clean and got them Plan B’s afterwards!

To ensure no strings attached sex, Jimin had 3 main rules he followed.

1. Never go over the woman’s house.

2. Never sleep over

3. Never sleep with someone twice

These 3 rules are what kept Jimin a well oiled machine. It’s also what kept girls from getting too attached and sending mixed messages. He wasn’t looking for any kind of relationship or anything long term; just sex and that’s it.

And he planned on keeping it that way.

Jimin flopped down on his friend’s couch, groaning from his still aching side. A light bruise had already purpled there but thankfully nothing was broken.

He sluggishly pushed himself through work, those pain patches doing nothing to alleviate his pain.

“Fuck, my side is killing me.”

“I will never understand why you treat women like that. Didn’t another girl post your STD results on Instagram a few years ago?” His best friend since childhood, Taehyung remembered.

Ah yes, that incident.

To sum it up, a girl he slept with some years back had requested his STD results. Normal enough, right? Safety first and whatnot. After hitting it and quitting it, he thought he’d never see the girl again. Everything was quiet until he was tagged in a post showing his results along with a lengthy caption calling him a pig and multiple variations of the word ‘slut’ that he’s never even heard of.

And if that wasn’t bad, almost every woman he’s slept with spawned under that post like white girls to pumpkin spice. Fortunately, it didn’t go viral(673 comments doesn’t count, right?) and Jimin sort of forgot about it.

From that moment on, he never gave out any of his contact information and he kept his STD results in his wallet. So far, everything’s been going well.

Well, until last night.

“It’s fine. She got in the Uber and hopefully she got home okay.”

Taehyung’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in shock. “You didn’t get her an Uber home? At 3AM? Do you know how dangerous that is?” He gasped, following in the woman’s footsteps and throwing a pillow at Jimin but with not nearly as much force.

Jimin blocked the pillow before continuing, “I’d rather not know where she stays so I can avoid ever walking by. She had the arm of a baseball player.” Suddenly it clicked! Jimin snapped his fingers in jubilation, memory coming back. “That’s it! Her father’s a baseball player. That’s what she said.”

Taehyung slapped his forehead dramatically. “You’re ridiculous. You know, one day you’re gonna meet someone who will give you your just desserts.”

The middle finger was thrown up in Taehyung’s direction.

As if that would ever happen.

Jimin’s pain had faded by the weekend which meant it was time to party!

If only he had a party to attend. He was avoiding his favorite bar—not out of fear of seeing that strong armed girl again! Of course not!

So he decided to tag along with Jungkook and Jungkook’s college friends to another bar. He also convinced Taehyung to take a break from being a moody misunderstood artist.

Drinks were flowing and the sweet tail in this bar was catching Jimin’s eye. He could already spot at least 4 women that fit his standards. If everything went well, he’d be out of the bar and on his way home with someone on his arm within an hour.

“Let’s get some shots.” Jungkook offered to which the others nodded in agreement. While he turned to do that, Jimin started surveying the bar again. Taehyung must have noticed because he nudged him.

“You’re not thinking of which girl to take home, are you? Did you not learn from that baseball player’s daughter?” Taehyung sighed exasperated. He loved Jimin but goodness he could be an idiot. The shots arrived at that time and Jimin downed his. He didn’t really need liquid courage to loosen him up but it still helped.

Jimin shrugged his shoulder. “Stop worrying so much. Bathroom quickies are my specialty.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes, muttering, “but somehow learning from your mistakes isn’t.”

Ignoring the jab, Jimin resumed his scan of the bar, making eye contact with a pretty girl across the way. Her eyes widened at being caught, quickly averting her gaze and looking at her drink as if it was the most interesting thing ever.

He smirked. Perfect. Shy ones are always the best.

Just as he was about to move to approach her, she was tapped on the shoulder by another girl by her side. They moved away from their spot on the bar and Jimin was met with a sight so mouth watering that he had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

A woman was leaned over the bar counter, thick glossed lips sucking at a straw in a fruity colored drink. His eyes followed the curve of your back, over the swell of your ass in that dress—thick luscious legs that looked miles long in your strappy platforms and white toenail polish! Your hair was long and dark, falling over your back like an onyx curtain.

Damn. You were sexy as hell.

“Hey look, it’s Yoongi hyung.” Jungkook noticed, pointing in the direction of their friend.

Jimin and the others watched as Yoongi crossed the bar……straight to you.

Yoongi leaned against the bar next to you, your eyes sparkling at the sight of a familiar face.

It’s moments like these Jimin wishes he could read lips. What were you two talking about? Did Yoongi know you personally or was this your first time meeting him? If Yoongi did know you, were you two just friends or currently on the pathway to dating? Contrary to his demeanor and face, Yoongi was actually very social and made friends easily. He was also just as smooth as Jimin when it came to bringing people home. Would Yoongi get you first?

After stalking watching you for a while longer, you two seemed to bid each other farewell before Yoongi walked away.

Jungkook held up his hand to catch his attention. “Yoongi hyung! Over here!”

The cat like man’s gaze flickered over to the small group, a little smile on his face as he approached.

Once he got close enough, he greeted everyone with waves and bro hugs. “What’s up? I didn’t know you guys would be here tonight.”

Jungkook nodded. “There’s a deal on Long Islands. What are you doing here? Normally college kids come to this bar.”

Yoongi’s eyes scanned the crowd. “I’m Hoseok and Seokjin’s designated driver. Some girl Hoseok’s dating goes here.” He informed with a shrug.

Ah. That made sense. Hoseok was kind of a stuck drunk and while Seokjin was a good drinker, he still didn’t like driving under the influence. And Uber’s were off the table as well.

“Me? Get in a stranger’s car? Preposterous.”

So that left Yoongi as designated driver.

But enough about their wacky friends. Jimin had bigger things to worry about, like your ass.

“Hyung, who is that girl you were just talking to?”

Yoongi raised an eyebrow, turning for a moment to look at you before facing Jimin again.

“Oh, y/n? She’s a student here. She’s getting her Master’s.” Yoongi answered.

Jimin hummed. “And are you two…..?” He trailed off, gesticulating his hands in a weird way.

Yoongi frowned. “Are we what?”

“He wants to know if you two are together before he goes and tries to fuck her.” Taehyung finished for them since he couldn’t bear this dumb game. “Please tell me she does professional kickboxing.”

Jimin pushed his catty friend. “Stop it.”

Yoongi’s mouth opened in a little ‘ah’. “No, nothing like that. y/n doesn’t date. Trust me, I tried.” He sighed, a little dreamily and defeated.

That was interesting. Not really that you rejected Yoongi but the fact that you didn’t date. It honestly shocked Jimin a little. You were smoking hot. How could someone like you not have a partner? Did you have a bad personality? Were you clingy? Were you just hot but also dumb? Hmm.

Eh. He didn’t care too much about that. You were single and attractive. That was good enough for him.

Fixing his hair and straightening his leather jacket, he was about to take a step but Yoongi’s hand on his chest stopped him.

“Hold up, man. I wouldn’t go after her.”

Jimin scoffed. “And why not? Just because you can’t get her doesn’t mean I can’t.”

The incredibly petty part of Yoongi wanted to just let Jimin go but he couldn’t, in good conscience, just let Jimin approach you unprepared.

“That’s not what I meant. I’ve never dated y/n but I have slept with her before.”

Wow, that was information he wasn’t ready for. Even Taehyung and Jungkook made noises of surprise.

“And what? Is she not good? Does she smell?” Jimin questioned, concern actually starting to eat at his tummy. Call him shallow and uneducated but Jimin didn’t venture near any pussy that didn’t appeal to his sensitive nose and delicate pallet. Perhaps you were just eye candy. Well, a blowjob would still count as a successful endeavor.

Yoongi shook his head. “No, of course not. The thing is, she’s the best I’ve ever had and I’m not joking. Like she’s so good that I still think about it and it happened over a year ago.”

“Pfft. That’s it? Whatever, hyung.” Jimin shook Yoongi’s hand off before strutting his way over to you.

Yoongi sighed dejectedly. “He has no idea what he’s walking into.”

You were about ready to wrap up your night. You really just came out for a drink and to spend time with your friends but they had left a little while ago to definitely have a foursome with these 2 guys. They asked if you wanted to join but you didn’t think you were that comfortable seeing your best friend’s vaginas. Well, willingly. You were a girl’s girl through and through but not like that.

Just as you sucked down the last of your drink, a presence settled on your side. At first you thought it was just another patron trying to get a drink but then a sugar sweet voice floated over into your ears.

“Can I buy you another drink?”

You looked to your right, finding a very handsome man leaning against the counter. He was very handsome but also pretty in a kind of graceful way. He wasn’t the type you often went after but you didn’t discriminate.

You leaned your cheek against the back of your hand. “I don’t accept drinks from strangers.” You disclosed.

Jimin felt his eyebrow twitch slightly but he couldn’t deny the slight rush your nonchalant tone gave him. You wouldn’t be easy and he liked it.

He sniffed. “You accepted one from the bartender. He’s a stranger.” He fired back matter of factly.

Ah, you could see now. He wasn’t the type to back down. Interesting. Maybe you would play along.

Your smirk sent a shiver down his spine. “He’s not a stranger. I know him inside and out.”

At that moment, the bartender came over to retrieve your empty glass. When you met his eyes, a red blush painted his skin from his cheeks to his neck.

Reaching into your purse, you pulled out a bill to tip him. “Thanks, baby. It was delicious.” You complimented, a sultry tone in your voice that spread that blush even further.

He shyly smiled, eyes flickering around. “Y-you’re welcome….” He grabbed your glass and you took the opportunity to run the tips of your stiletto nails up the back of his hand. He shivered at the touch, almost dropping the glass but managing to keep it from falling. He bowed at you, thanking you for the tip before scurrying over to the other side of the bar to tend to other customers.

Jimin’s jaw had yet to return to its original state. There was no way he just witnessed that. It’s obvious that you and that bartender had something going on; something crazy judging by how almost submissive the man acted just by being in your presence.

Was Yoongi right about you?

You flickered your eyes over to the new stranger, reaching out to tap at his chin.

“Your jaw will ache if you do that. Or do you like that sort of thing?”

Jimin snapped his mouth shut, your chuckle bringing heat to the tips of his ears but he forced it down.

“Oh so is the bartender your boyfriend or something?” He tried to passively ask but you could see right through him.

“Nope. I don’t have a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend. I used to though.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You used to have a boyfriend?”

You shook your head. “Nope, a girlfriend but we had to go our separate ways. She had a great rack too.” You reminisced with a sigh.

Were you fucking for real? Jimin didn’t give a damn about your ex girlfriend but he’d be lying if he said you hinting at being bisexual wasn’t sexy as hell.

He cleared his throat. “Well uh, I’m Jimin.”

You hummed but didn’t make a move to introduce yourself and that kind of pissed him off.

“Aren’t you gonna tell me your name?”

You swept your hair over your back, the scent of your perfume and whatever else you used in your hair invading his senses.

“Do I need to?” You drawled sassily.

He swallowed. Fuck you were pissing him off.

Luckily for him, Yoongi already told him your name so ha!

“I guess not, y/n.” He smirked.

You tilted your head. Ha! Gotcha! You weren’t so clever!

Then you smiled and it sent Jimin’s stomach in a whirl.

Your eyes sparkled with mischief. Jimin was very amusing to you. You couldn’t wait to break him.

You leaned closer to him, so close that your lips were almost touching. His breath got caught in his throat, eyes flickering back and forth between your irises.

What was this feeling? Jimin hasn’t felt like this sense his last big audition. His stomach was turning, nausea bringing that last drink he had right to the base of his throat, and his palms felt like all the water in his body had populated to his hands.

“That was cute.” Your eyes flickered from his eyes to his lips. “But it doesn’t matter if you know my name or not….”

Don’t ask why. Don’t ask why.

“Why?”

You smirked, hand lifting to ghost over the side of his throat, your nails scratched lightly over his pulse point. He thickly swallowed, throat feeling tight and dry all of a sudden.

“Because your mouth will be too preoccupied.”

Damn. You were good. Too good.

While he was mimicking a fish out of water, you dug around your purse for your keys before saying, “let’s get out of here. Do you need to tell your friends where you’re going?”

It took him a second to process what you had said but when he did, he shook his head.

“No. Why would I need to tell them?”

You shrugged. “Just to be safe. If something happens or they need you, they should know.”

He raised an eyebrow in a suspicious look. “Are you gonna rob me or something?”

You chuckled but he didn’t find anything amusing. “Of course not. Let’s just go then.”

Rule Number 1 was broken the moment he step foot in your apartment.

Similar to your outward appearance, your apartment was very cool and modern; cool tones of gray and blues complimented one another across all of your furniture and decorations.

You noticed how he was looking around at everything. “Did you want a tour?”

He flinched a little at you speaking. “No. We can just go to the bedroom.”

You eyed him for a brief moment but shrugged your shoulder and led him down the hall to your bedroom.

You didn’t turn on the lights when you entered your bedroom, instead traversing through the dark to find the remote to your LED lights. The room lit up in a bright purple, enough so that he could see clearly but it wasn’t overwhelming to ruin the mood.

He didn’t take time to look around this time, moving to remove his jacket and lay it across your vanity stool. You had taken a seat on the bed, hands working to untie the strings of your platforms.

“So, should we talk about boundaries and safe words?”

You were really making his brain buffer, like bad wifi connection.

“Safe words? Isn’t that only for like extreme stuff? Like BDSM?”

You were also constantly pissing him off with those little mocking chuckles.

“Normally yes but safe words are really just to gauge comfort and discomfort so if either of us don’t like something, we can have an easy way of communicating.” You explained simply, tossing your shoes to the side and working on the strings that held your dress together on either side.

The way you spoke so simply and confidently caused yet another weird feeling to flutter in Jimin’s chest. That was happening often with you.

“Uh….I don’t think that’s necessary.”

You paused in your disrobing(damn it) to look up at him. “Are you sure? The color system is pretty simple. This is our first sleeping together so we should both be comfortable.”

He’s never had to think about stuff like that before. This was just a one night stand. Why were you so worried about comfort and safe words? He just wanted to get his nut and go.

Holding in an aggravated sigh, he nodded. “Sure. Color system. Red, yellow, green. Perfect.”

If you noticed his tone, you didn’t say anything. Instead finally finally removing your dress and Jimin got to witness the glory that was your body and hot damn.

From your mocha dusted nipples to the intricate tattoo that rested just between your breasts, all the way down your meaty thighs and your clothed pussy that was barely covered by the thong you wore.

“Come here.” You beckoned with a finger. “Lie down.”

Your voice seemed to control his body, his feet moving forward to sit on the bed next to you. Immediately, you were in his space, climbing on top of him to push him down on the mattress.

Your hair fell forward over your shoulder, falling into his face, tickling his nose and getting in his mouth.

You giggled at his sputtering. “Sorry. Hold on.” You reached over to your nightstand to grab a large claw clip to get your hair out of your face.

With that done, you leaned down to capture his pillowy lips in a kiss. Honestly, you’ve been waiting to kiss him since he approached you at the bar. Something about those Bratz doll lips were so appetizing.

And they didn’t disappoint.

Jimin’s hands gravitated to your ass, gripping two handfuls and god bless, it was just as amazing as he imagined.

Your lips worked in tandem against one another. Jimin was caught up in the wonderful globes of fat blessing his palms, hands pushing you to start humping against his straining erection. You sighed as your clit bumped against the zipper cover of his jeans.

You tilted your head more to deepen the kiss, his mouth opening to let your tongues meet. He hummed at the taste of the fruity alcohol and the minty gum you chewed in the car.

Licking at his tongue, you sucked it between your lips, surprisingly pulling a moan from Jimin. Noted.

It honestly shocked him as well. He’s never felt this turned on just from a little kissing and dry humping. Hell, he hardly kissed any of his sexual partners. Maybe a little here and there but never full on making out like he was doing now.

And he hated to say it but he wanted more.

You must have noticed how he relaxed into the kiss because you pulled away to get a good look at his face—ears tipped red and puffs of breath coming from his plump lips that were shiny with your gloss.

“Do you want to tell me a color?”

Ah that. He almost forgot but he guessed he’d entertain it. “Green I guess.”

You hummed a “good”, pecking his lips once more before moving to his throat. Your hands went to start on the buttons of his shirt as you nipped and sucked at his pulse point. He stifled another moan when you bit the skin at his collarbone, trailing down to kiss over his chest.

He thought you were about to go straight for his cock, only to be shocked when he felt your tongue run over his nipple.

He jumped at the sensation, head craning to look down at you. “W-what are you doing?”

Your eyes glanced up at him. “Oh sorry. Do you not like your nipples touched?” You sounded honestly apologetic.

He felt weird. That felt weird but not necessarily bad. Fuck, what was happening to him?

“It’s just weird.” He simply said.

“Okay. I won’t do it again. Thanks for being honest.” There’s that feeling again.

Moving past his chest, you worked on his belt and the button of his jeans. He helped you get them down his legs, also removing his shirt in the process.

Once he was lying back down, you got comfortable between his legs. You kissed around his belly button, his abs contracting from the ticklish feeling. Gripping the band of his briefs, you pulled them down and off his legs, his cock jumping out and slapping against his tummy.

He sighed when your warm palm encased his throbbing erection, shivering as your breath puffed over his slick cockhead.

“Ready?” You asked.

He scoffed. Why did you ask him like that? Like a warning almost.

There was that smirk again. You were gonna enjoy this.

Kissing his tip, you licked a wide stripes up his shaft, going all around the circumference of his cock with your sinful tongue. His leg twitched a little at your calculated ministrations, suddenly feeling hot all over despite you just starting.

Once you deemed him licked enough, you took his tip into your mouth, gathering saliva in your mouth to drip down his cock. With that extra lubrication, you began pumping his shaft, tandem sucking at his tip. His hips buck up involuntarily, wanting to feel more of your warm mouth around him.

Your eyes were focused on his face, always watching to make sure he was comfortable but also, you loved seeing his reaction. His own eyes were squeezed shut, hands balled up at his side and lip pulled between his teeth hard enough to bleed.

Mmm. Easy work. Time to up the ante.

Jimin felt your mouth come off of him, the cold air brushing over his spit slicked cock. He let out a breath but that was short lived because all of a sudden, both of your hands were gripping his cock.

He barely had time to lift his head before it was crashing back against your pillows because you started going absolutely ballistic.

Both hands began twisting and squeezing at his shaft, your mouth back on his tip creating an air tight vacuum seal. As your hands moved, your head bobbed up and down on what your hands couldn’t reach.

Jimin’s back arched hard enough to hurt, mouth dropping open in a silent scream. You were like a woman possessed, not even the Warren’s would be able to cleanse you. Loud slurping and sucking noises bounced off the walls, filling his ears and spurring him towards an orgasm faster than it takes Azaelia Banks to embarrass herself.

If your mouth wasn’t full of cock, you would have smirked from his reaction. He couldn’t stop moving, knees lifting and falling back against the bed and bumping into you a few times, head restlessly tossing side to side against the pillows. His face and chest were flushed red, chest rising and falling as he struggled to breathe.

“Oh my god….” He breathed out, feeling closer to orgasm than ever.

Your hands moved from around his shaft and suddenly, you were taking him all the way down your throat, deep throating him like a god damn python. His hips bucked up again but your wet hands rested on either side of his pelvis to hold him down. You bobbed your head faster, sucking on every upstroke and laving your tongue against the vein that pulsed on the underside of his cock.

Jimin doesn’t think he’s ever felt so good in his life, especially not off head alone. It was like every nerve ending in his body was focused in his cock, your hot mouth pulling noises from him that he didn’t even know he could make.

Who the fuck were you? Who was he?

He was about to cum. He could feel it stirring and building in his lower belly, hotter than fire and ready to burst like a volcano.

Then you gripped his balls in one of your hands and gave them a light squeeze and the pearly gates were right there.

He let out a gasp, hands moving to try and stop you. He didn’t want to cum that fast and definitely not first. He always got the woman off first, at least twice before he finally came. And even that could take a while but you were about to wrench an orgasm from him in minutes. There was no way.

“W-w-wait….ah….I’m….” He stuttered, vocabulary suddenly becoming limited as his orgasm rose.

You could feel his cock throb in your mouth, balls drawing up in your palm. Taking him down your throat once again, his trimmed pubic hairs tickling your nose, you massaged his balls as if trying to force them to give you his cum.

Jimin’s brain struggled to remember that stupid safe word. He needed you to stop before the worst happened.

Alas, two harsh sucks and one more squeeze of his balls and he was ascending.

A moan so loud and drawn out that he didn’t even believe it was him came from his throat. Hot splashes of cum hit the back of your throat and you swallowed it down greedily.

Sensitivity began to prickle at Jimin’s spine and cock as you continued to fondle and suck at him.

“Yellow yellow yellow.” He gasped out and you immediately backed away.

He slumped against the mattress, inhaling deep breaths and trying to calm his racing heart. Tiredness began pulling at his eyelids and he felt like he could fall asleep at any moment but then a weight settled on his chest.

He cracked open his bleary eyes, not expecting to find your glistening folds just inches from his face. When did you remove your panties? Despite just emptying his balls, he could feel his cock twitch. Damn, could you not?

He looked up to see your sultry eyes staring down at him. He gulped down a block in his throat. He was not expecting this.

“I’ll acknowledge your refractory period but just because your cock is down for the count right now doesn’t mean your mouth is.”

He was speechless. He’s never had a woman so shamelessly put her pussy right in his face and practically demand he eat her out.

You must have taken his dropped open mouth as an invite to scoot forward to place your pussy right in his face.

The initial shock had worn off the moment your wet pussy touched his lips. Like muscle memory, he latched onto your clit, hollowing his cheeks to suck on the nub. You hummed at finally getting some relief. Seeing Jimin’s pleasured face had gotten you excited quicker than usual.

You were itching to finally break him down, to stake your claim and inject yourself into his bloodstream until he couldn’t think about anyone else but you.

Shouldn’t be too hard judging by how frantically he was slurping and licking at your clit like it was his first meal in ages.

You rocked your hips against his face, melting into the feeling. His tongue flicked expertly over your clit, plush lips sucking in intervals in a slightly amateur and sloppy way but thankfully, you liked it. You thought it was cute. And you weren’t really picky when it came to oral, clit stimulation was more than enough.

“Hold your tongue out.” You ordered and of course, he followed. You rocked your clit against the rough texture of his tongue, hums and sighs of pleasure passing your lips.

Jimin lifted his hands to grab at your ass, pushing you against his tongue a little faster. This wasn’t a competition(as far as you were concerned) and no, Jimin wasn’t trying his hardest right now to prove a point! He was just being an equal partner in this. He got off so you should too! Yeah, that made sense.

You threaded your fingers through his soft hair, holding him still as you used his tongue to get off. Using your other hand to tweak at your own nipples, you fluttered your eyes shut as you relaxed and let yourself be taken away by his tongue.

Jimin let you take control(as if you ever gave it up) but after a little bit, he took it upon himself to worm one of his hands under you to start prodding at your leaking hole. You could feel his fingers, a smirk that he couldn’t see twitching at your lips.

One finger sunk past your opening, your walls clenching around the digit. His cock twitched again, imagining how tight you’d be around it. Fuck that refractory period. He was ready to go now.

He felt around your walls until he pressed against that rough patch inside of you. He noticed you didn’t really react so he pressed a little bit harder, feeling a little rush when your hips jumped. Ah, you like it rough, huh?

Slipping another finger inside, he hooked them right into that spot again. Your mouth dropped and a light moan escaped your lips. He also wrapped his lips around your clit again and harshly sucked at it, pulling a slightly louder noise from you.

You were kind of expecting this but you also weren’t. With other partners you had, it normally took some coaching and adjusting for them to know how you liked it but he seemed to be knowledgeable.

How cute.

Gripping his hair tighter, you bounced up and down on his fingers, his lips slurping at your clit in tandem.

“Mhm….yes. Just like that. I’m almost there.” You moaned. That pressure was building higher and higher until you were right on the edge.

Jimin closed his eyes, curling his fingers everytime you bounced, sucking your clit like a man starved. He wanted to see you cum, see you fall apart for him.

He needed to see it.

Jimin moaned against your clit, the vibrations sending sparks up your back, your own moan rivaling his.

“‘M gonna cum. Harder.” You said breathless.

Jimin hated how much you bossed him around but he couldn’t care much about that. Instead, he thrusted his fingers in and out of your wet cunt faster, your arousal dripping down his palm and wrist. He was spurred on by the wet and sloppy noises that your cunt made, his cock hardening incredibly fast.

With a final suck and one more curl of his fingers, you were releasing all over his face. Your walls clenched around his fingers, your thighs smothering his head as your body locked up.

Jimin licked at your clit until you were shivering in sensitivity, your hips moving back until you were sitting back on his chest. Jimin stretched out his arm that was aching from your previous position, flexing his hand a few times.

You leaned back to rest your palms on his thighs, tilting your head back as you tried to catch your breath.

Jimin’s dark and sharp eyes trailed down your body—glistening dark skin covered in sweat, your gorgeous breasts and nipples heaving with every breath, dark stretch marks painting the insides of your thighs.

Damn, you were a picture of sin and he wanted to sink his teeth into you.

“Tapping out? I’ll acknowledge your refractory period.” He teased.

You dropped your chin forward to stare at him, a cute smile on your face. Scooting back so that you were straddling him again, you leaned down to kiss his lips. With this position, you could rub your slick folds up and down his cock. He groaned at the feeling. He could only imagine how you’d feel wrapped around him.

Pulling away from his lips, you asked, “did you bring condoms? I have some if you didn’t. What size are you?”

Yes he brought condoms but why the hell did you have them?

“Uh….yeah. I’m normally a medium.”

That made you snort. “Normally? That’s a weird way to phrase it.” Reaching over to your nightstand, you pulled open a drawer to dig around for the right size.

Now that you mentioned condoms, he started thinking.

Did you really need one? You both disclosed your health in the car already.

(“You carry your STD results in your wallet? Do you have a lot of sex or something?”

“I like being prepared.”

“What a coincidence. Check the glove compartment.”)

His pull out game was definitely top tier and he didn’t want any kids anytime soon so that wasn’t really an issue. Obviously he wouldn’t say no if you really wanted to use one but your pussy felt so wet and warm around his fingers….

He wanted to feel it with no restrictions.

“Do we….”

You pulled the condom out, sitting back up on his lap. Your eyebrows raised, acknowledging that he wanted to speak.

“Yeah?”

He pulled his lip between his teeth. Why was he hesitating? He’s never felt nervous about asking for what he wanted during sex so why was his tongue getting tied now?

You could almost see the gears turning in his head. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what he wanted but you wanted to hear him say it.

“Yes?” You pushed.

He lifted his eyes to meet yours, your irises swirling with amusement. You were really…..

Sighing, he forced out, “do we have to use one?”

There we go. You smiled, shrugging one shoulder. “Not if you don’t want to.” You tossed the foil wrapper to the side like a discarded piece of gum.

How many times had you completely baffled him? Like 7? 8? 54? You were just continuing to defy every expectation and standard he’s had in previous sexual escapades. First you give him body ascending head, then you sit on his face, and now you were agreeing to raw sex? Was he dreaming? No, right?

He was broken from his thousandth moment of self contemplation by you moving. You turned around in his lap, your juicy ass on display to him. At that moment, he took notice of the two shiny piercings nestling just at the base of your spine.

You were gonna kill him.

He hissed when your warm palm wrapped around his hard cock, pumping it a few times, aided by the arousal you rubbed over him a bit ago.

“Ready?” You asked him for the second time and a small part of him wanted to say no. Your head game was already crazy. What the hell was your riding game like?

Too late to go back now because you were lining up the head of his cock with your hole and sitting down on it. He held his breath once your hot and tight walls began sucking him in, each inch feeling like a mile as you lowered yourself down.

He released the breath once you were seated all the way on his lap. He already felt ready to cum again and you haven’t even done anything yet. Your pussy was wetter than before and your squishy walls were holding his cock hostage like a bank robber.

You sighed at the stretch. He definitely had girth, which you preferred over length but he was still long enough to reach your spots. Perfect.

Adjusting yourself on your knees, you have a few test movements. Not really bounces but just moving back and forth to get both of you adjusted.

Jimin already couldn’t handle it, his head falling back against the pillows. He reached out his hands to rest on your ass and you took that as a sign of him being ready for the real action.

Perching both hands on his knees, you got on your feet and started bouncing on his cock. He choked out a surprisingly loud moan, fingers digging into your ass and head lifting again to watch you go crazy. Your ass rippled and jiggled every time you met his pelvis, your slick soaking his cock and walls hugging him on every upward stroke.

The clapping of your ass sounded like damn gunshots as it ricocheted off his pelvis, the force of your bounces shaking your bed and scrambling his brain.

He couldn’t think. He couldn’t talk. All he could manage was groans and uncharacteristic squeaks whenever your walls squeezed around him. You were pulling noises out of him he didn’t even know he was capable of making.

“Ah fuck!” He strained, sweat causing his bangs and hair at the back of his neck to stick uncomfortably to his skin.

You hummed, your claw clip starting to slip a little. “Your cock feels so good. It’s gonna make me cum.” You were starting to get a little winded from bouncing on your feet so you moved to your knees, still bouncing your ass up and down at the same pace.

His ears sounded like they were underwater so he didn’t hear a damn thing you said, too focused on watching how your hole stretched around his cock.

“Shit, s-slow down.” He begged but since you didn’t hear any of the traffic light colors, you kept going.

He was about to cum! Hard! Very hard!

You could feel his cock throbbing inside of you, saw how his toes curled and felt how hard he was gripping your ass cheeks.

Licking your lips, you urged him, “Give it to me, baby. Cum in my tight pussy.” Balancing back on your feet, your hands going to your knees, you rode his cock harder than before. He thought you were about to break his pelvis but he’d sit in the hospital in a full body cast any day of the week.

“Fuck fuck fuck! Oh shit!” He cursed. A few more bounces and he was releasing inside your warm cunt. His ears rang and his vision blurred as the second hardest orgasm of his life rammed into him. You continued to ride him, milking him of every drop that he had.

His whole body was on fire, his throat tight and dry, heart hammering in his chest.

Sensitivity didn’t have time to settle in because he felt ready to cum again but it felt painful almost. Not necessarily in a bad way though. A part of him didn’t want you to stop.

And you didn’t.

Turning in his lap with his cock still inside(what the hell), you pushed his sweaty bangs back from his forehead—taking in his red cheeks and kiss swollen lips.

He was so cute. Cute enough to bite and you did. He flinched a little at the feeling of your teeth on his cheek.

“You’re not tapping out, are you?” You kissed across his jawline and chin. “You’re still so hard and I haven’t cum yet.”

He wasn’t going to make it out alive.

Jimin rose to the smell of a sweet perfume and clean laundry detergent. He groaned as he stretched his body, the soft sheets feeling amazing against his skin. His muscles and bones popped as he tried to alleviate some of the tension from sleeping.

He blinked away the haze of sleep, lifting his head to get a gauge of his surroundings then it all started rushing back to him.

The bar. Coming back to your place. The mind blowing sex.

You.

He slowly sat up, running his hand through his hair. He looked around the room, finding nothing out of the ordinary. He noticed his clothes from yesterday folded and placed near the foot of the bed.

Did you do that? Where were you?

He found his phone on your nightstand, plugged into a charger. He removed it and turned it on, finding a few messages from his friends asking if he was safe and one of his coworkers asking to switch a shift.

He texted Taehyung back, letting him know he was okay and to his coworker to agree to the shift change.

As he was in his phone, he heard the sound of footsteps entering the room. He looked up, finding you walking into the bedroom, a robe wrapped around you and your hair hidden under a bonnet.

“Oh. You’re awake. Good morning.”

Morning? It was morning? He didn’t even notice the time.

10:21AM

What the hell? He’s never slept in that late after a one night stand. He’s never slept over at all.

Rule Number 2. Broken.

He cleared his throat. “Yeah. Morning.”

You walked over to your dresser to shuffle through some undergarments to wear. “I made some coffee if you want some.”

He hated coffee.

“No thanks.”

He tossed the blankets off his naked body, standing on wobbly legs. He glanced back over at you to see if you noticed but you were busy pulling panties up your legs. At the motion, he caught a glimpse of your perfect ass. He swallowed down a block in his throat.

No Jimin! You’ve already broken two rules! Don’t lose resolve, he thought.

As he slipped his clothes on, he couldn’t help but feel a little strange. Why did this feel so familiar?

You turned to him once you were done, sending him a sweet smile that made his heart stutter. “You can use the bathroom to brush your teeth and everything. I have some extra toothbrushes.“

He sniffed and ran a hand through his hair again. “Um….are you….did you….sleep well?” That was a dumb question to ask.

If you thought so, you didn’t mention it, instead smiling again. “I did. Did you? You practically passed out. I cleaned you up a bit. Hope you don’t mind.”

Heat rose to the tips of his ears. You cleaned him up? That’s why he didn’t feel sweaty or sticky. Wasn’t he supposed to do that for you? Then again, he wasn’t much of an aftercare type person with his previous partners. He’d let them use his bathroom or whatever but he never took initiative to clean his partners up.

You were so much different than him. He felt a little…..inadequate compared to you.

“Oh. Thanks.”

You hummed, turning around fully to face him. Why did he look so…..small? Not necessarily in size but in his posture and energy. He seemed a little nervous and out of place.

“Is something bothering you?” You inquired. You were hoping he wasn’t feeling uncomfortable about last night. He only used the color system once and he never said red so you assumed he was fine.

He cleared his throat again. “I just….can’t remember much from last night.”

You sighed in relief. “Oh, I thought something else was bothering you. That’s it?”

That’s it? You said it so dismissively, like his question was nothing to be concerned about.

“We went a few rounds but after the last one, you just passed out. I guess I wore you out, huh?” You giggled at that last part but he only felt hot embarrassment swell in him.

Ha! Fuck him to sleep? Hogwash.

Then again…..

“You’re also kind of a cuddle bug. I was surprised but it was nice. You’re very warm.”

He didn’t want to hear anymore of this.

“Where’s the bathroom?” He gruffly asked, turning his head away. It kind of reminded you of a small child refusing to eat their food. Cute.

You smirked but told him, “across the hall. I put a toothbrush on the counter along with a face towel.”

God he was sick of that cheeky little smirk. Stomping off to the bathroom, he grumbled about “not a cuddle bug” on his way.

After freshening up and screwing his head on straight, he ventured out of the bathroom back to the bedroom but you weren’t there. So he went to the living room instead, finding you sitting on your couch watching television.

You turned your head when you heard him enter.

“All done?”

“Yeah.” He nodded.

“Cool. Did you need an Uber or anything?”

Ah, that’s what felt familiar.

Oh. Right. He had to leave. This was only a one time thing.

So why did he feel so……unwanted?

“No. I can….I can call one.”

You just nodded. “Cool.”

He just stared at the side of your head. That was it? Cool? You weren’t going to ask him stay? Or to have breakfast? He was used to women doing that but you…..you just sort of ignored him.

He didn’t like it. Why didn’t he like it?

Pulling out his phone, he requested himself an Uber, the app chiming and telling him his driver was 4 minutes away. He’s never gotten an Uber that quick. Where was this that night he was trying to get away from that girl who used too much teeth? She was crazy, chased him out the door and insulting him loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear. The driver had to meet him a block down.

“It’ll be here soon.” He announced for some reason. He didn’t know why he felt the need to tell you that. It’s not like you cared.

You stood to your feet. “Alright.” Walking over to the front door, you opened it. Jimin didn’t let his slight disappointment show on his face, heavy feet carrying him to your front door.

He stepped past the threshold, turning to face you. You were ready to close the door but paused when you noticed him still standing there.

“Something wrong? Did you leave something?”

Yes. Yes he did. He was leaving so much right now. He couldn’t leave knowing someone as perfect as you existed. He couldn’t just let you go.

Running a hand through his hair, he propositioned, “are you free sometime?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Free? For what?”

“You know….to do this again.” He motioned with a hand.

“Oh, um. I don’t think so.”

Rejection. That was new.

“What? Why?”

You gave him a pitied smile and he’s never felt so small before.

“This was just a one time thing. It was nice, don’t get me wrong but I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to keep seeing one another. You understand, right?”

No. No he didn’t. Why didn’t you want to see him again? The sex was just nice to you? So was he the only one who actually felt something?

“But….”

“I’ll definitely add you to the roster. Get home safe, okay?”

The door closed in his face and he was left there, speechless and feeling used.

Days passed after meeting you and Jimin couldn’t get you off his mind. All he could think about was your perfect ass and the way you rode his cock, how you prioritized his comfort and cleaned him up and even let him sleep over.

You weren’t everything he wasn’t and he wanted more of you.

He couldn’t focus at work. He spent his nights staring at his ceiling, lost in his thoughts. He didn’t even go out to parties or bars anymore.

He needed to see you again.

He needed to talk to Yoongi.

#bts #bts smut #bts fic #jimin smut #bts x black reader #bts imagines #namjoon smut #yoongi smut #jungkook smut #hoseok smut #taehyung smut #seokjin smut

88 notes · View notes

borednwritin9 · 11 months

Text

Be Perfect

*Trigger warnings: Rape, violence, death, torture*

“Be pretty, they told me. That’s how you get a boy’s attention. Not your brains, your accomplishments, but your body”, I told the man in front of me. “Do you agree with this?”

“N-no ma’am”, he managed to get out. I guess the fact that he had half his face missing didn’t help him out.

“Good”, I said as I was pacing in front of him, contemplating what to say or do next. He was lying, obviously. After months of knowing someone, and following them around, you learn things about them. Personality, body language, their weekly schedule, you know, the usual.

“Danny, you know what I said about lying, right?” I continued.

“Y-yes ma’am”, he stuttered out again. I noticed his eight fingers and one thumb twitching, also known as his way of showing he was lying.

“Well I’m thinking about giving you a choice here, bud” I spoke.

He nodded.

“Here are your options: a) you get to choose which limb you lose next or b) I tell you a story and you answer a question about it anfterwards”, I told thebastard.

“B”, Danny uttered, interrupting me.

“Ah, ah, ah”, I said, waving my finger at his one eye. “There’s a catch. If you answer wrong, you die”. That’s when all light left the poor man’s eyes. He kept thinking and finally answered.

“M-my answer doesn’t c-change”. Perfect.

“Well then”, I started as I pulled up a chair and sat in front of him. “Remember what I said about being told to Be pretty?”

“Y-yes ma’am”, he replied”

“Now that wasn’t true. For me at least, but a friend of mine, Maxie, was told this her whole life. She was a gorgeous girl, but was as smart as she was beautiful. Here’s the sad thing Danny, nobody cared about her brains, only her looks. She hated it. I couldn’t count the amount of times she complained to it about me on my fingers.

So one night, Maxie told me she had a date with a wonderful guy in one of her grad school classes. She was so excited, like “about to explode” excited, so I offered to help her get ready. She looked like an angel, wearing a modest dress and heels, light makeup and her hair up in a ponytail.

I was so happy for her, until she returned home the next morning. Her dress was ripped around the neck-hole to show her tits, heels bent, and chunks of hair missing. Not to mention she was covered in bruises head to toe, but especially on her neck. The worst part about it, she was crying two words and two words only. Wanna take a guess at those words, Danny?”

He stayed silent.

“They were Be pretty. It took hours to get her to explain what happened and to get her to say anything else. Once that finally happened, she told me that the date went wonderful, so they went to the guy’s place. When they got there, she was drugged and later woke up tied to the bed, with five other men standing over her, not including the date. They raped her all night, until in the morning, they finally let her go, but not without a warning. One of the guys, the one who asked her out said “Be pretty, it’s not like you’ll have any other major accomplishments”. We went to the cops, obviously, but they did jack shit, until she died later that night. And at that point the names were unknown by all. Until now.”

There was a silent pause.

“Now Danny-boy, let’s get to be big question, were are the other guys?”

He looked almost dead, I mean he was, but it’s meant as an expression in this case.

“I-i don’t know. I haven’t-t talked to a-any of them in y-years!” He exclaimed.

“Is that your final answer, Daniel?” I questioned to him, although I knew it was.

He nodded, again. I can tell he was on the brink of death so I decided to pity him before he died.

“Danny, I’m gonna turn you around, ok?” I said sweetly.

“O-ok” He mumbled out and I reached for the back of his chair and turned him around slowly.

“I’m gonna be nice and pity you before I kill you, ok?” I was now in front of him. “You see these bodies attacted to the wall behind me?” I questioned again.

He nodded, like always.

“These are were your friends are”. From left to right I named them. “Pat, Archie, Oscar, Noa and Ferris. All your buddies, and there’s even a space for you.” At this point I could tell that Danny’s fate is already laid out for him.

“Now Dan, I told you that Maxie died the night after you and your friends raped her, but that was more of a metaphor,” I then took off the black ski mask I had been wearing the entire time, letting my brown hair come loose, and grabbed the gun from underneath the chair I was sitting on.

“I had you calling me ma’am this entire time, but we’ve known each other for a while at this point so I think it’s time you know my real name. I’m Maxine Wells, but you may know me as Maxie, the girl you took out on a date and then raped on this day five years ago.” I aimed the gun at his head.

“Fuck you”, I said, making those the last words he ever heard.

#horror #rapesurvivor #writing #writing prompt #short story

0 notes

peakyblindersxx · 3 years

Text

whiskey buisness - john shelby x reader (part 2 of ?)

read part one here!

a/n: hey loves! i'm finishing up school rn, but i had to get this out and i'm about to start working on a tommy request immediately after i upload this. anyways, i'm so excited to post this series, it's incredible and i can't thank my bestie @stxdyblr-2k enough. she is a fucking genius :)

prompt: you can't get john out of your head. lo and behold, here he is.

warnings: fluff, mentions of smut, angsty af, soft john (ugh my heart)

Despite your best efforts, you'd been unable to stop yourself yearning for John Shelby. Your pokey flat now often lay empty; you were far too busy to mope at home due to your career as a personal assistant to a local solicitor who was allied with the Shelby's, attending rallies and lectures with Ada and the drunken nights you'd spend at various mansions, galleries and club openings with the "razor chasers" you'd become friendly with due to their refusal to leave Ada alone. Yet still, in those odd seconds of calm you seized over a cigarette, the first seconds after a bump of Tokyo, when you carefully applied your makeup, styled your hair or bathed, you'd think of him. The way the pads of his fingertips felt on your skin, how he’d muttered in your ear how pretty you looked.

But this was different to when you were dreaming about John at 15; he was no longer the allusive older brother of Ada who had a string of beautiful girls on rotation. He wasn’t a fantasy anymore. He was true flesh and blood, and for a moment he had wanted you.

It would be delicious if the whole situation hadn't left a bitter taste in your mouth. Of course you came back to Brum to only immediately fuck it up. The first night, and already you were so close to ruining everything? Looking back, now that you were so close with Ada once more, now that you knew who John had grown to be, that night was cringe inducing. Luckily, no one had seemed to catch on. Luckily, you thrived in the Small Heath rumour mill once again. All the gossip about you was mainly about your substance use, the lads you were seen curling up with outside nightclubs, your intelligence, your helpful nature, sometimes your questionable politics but that was all. John's was far darker, stories of blood, death and gasoline. Recently, the tales of his conquests had quietened, but only due to the lurid delight taken by the factory workers in talking about the recent blinding of some poor fucker who'd crossed the wrong person. Obviously, a lot of the detail had to be exaggerated for shock value and to boost the Shelby status, solidifying them as notorious throughout Birmingham city and its rural surroundings. There were murmurs everywhere about the violent John Shelby: ruthless, cocky, vengeful. It seemed impossible that the same man who cracked shit jokes just to see you smile, kissed you with so much desperation, and prioritised getting you off first could cause such harm without an ounce of guilt or shame to slow his swagger.

Whispers of war were far more constant, but then again, people would say anything for a reaction. You didn't bring it up with Ada. You refused to (openly) partake in mindless gossip on principle, yet you were hungry for information about him.

***********

You'd long forgotten whose wedding you were at. Some loyal blinder, a close friend of the Shelby's, the occasion calling for a large white marquee to be built onto one of Tommy's gardens, fully staffed with the best chef and service team money could buy (from a London restaurant at short notice; when Finn told you the extortionate figure Tommy had paid, your jaw had dropped). The cake, dress and decorations were stunning; you weren't sure exactly what the groom had done for the Shelby's but you could only assume the worst for what they'd splashed out on him.

However, thinking like that only spoilt your night: you'd realised at your fifth club takeover, now you repeated it like a mantra constantly. You'd quickly learnt every excess the Shelby's granted to those outside their circle were due to some perceived sacrifice for being associated with them. Well, that's what you chose to believe after John had sent a junior blinder to your office with a bouquet, the Monday morning after he turned you down. So, it was best to smile and take the shit, get paid, and get out as soon as possible. You were to keep your head down until then.

Yet, keeping your head down was difficult tonight. Ada had treated you to a shopping trip to London for the occasion this morning, Arthur forcing the junior blinders to tag along next to you on the train and trailing less than two metres behind you for hours. You missed the days when it was just you and Ada. It was far more simple without the stares whenever the two of you stepped out. Ada had gotten used to it, she'd devised her own methods of being completely alone; complex plans involving leaving a window open, knotting sheets into a rope and twisting her ankles. Not that she minded, she reckoned the suffocation of being a Shelby was much worse than a few bruised ankles.

You were wearing a clingy emerald green dress from some fancy French boutique you couldn't even pronounce, the diamond necklace sitting along your collarbone and the jewels dangling through your ears were on loan from Ada. You felt eyes unpicking you the moment you entered the after-party. Your arm was linked through Ada's as per usual, she looked equally stylish in a peacock blue number that set off her eyes, her delicate features perfected with makeup.

You'd quickly found your gaggle and began drinking and dancing the night away. Whispers about snow arose from your table, people disappearing to the toilets to rail a line on the bathroom counter, then to the dance floor or to the lap of the poor fucker who'd hold back their hair while they vomited in just a few hours. At least the Blinders were polite about it. Isaiah would kill them if they weren’t. You'd let your arm be tugged on various bathroom trips, treated among your group like secret missions although you weren't entirely subtle about it.

What you weren't aware of was across the marquee, you were being watched by the three men in your life who you'd never want to see you in this state: the Shelby's.

"Looks like Finn's taken your spot, John." Arthur yelled in John's ear over the loud music, gesturing to the youngest Shelby sat at the table next to you who was staring up at you in complete adoration as you chatted across him to Michael, seemingly arguing with him. By the looks of it, you were winning.

John pulled a face at Arthur. “Fuck off, old man. That'll never happen. Finn’s too young for her." He immediately regretted the words that had fallen out of his mouth, revealing far too much for his comfort.

"It's not impossible."

"He's just not right for her, yeah?"

"And you are?"

John didn't bother to bless him with a verbal response, instead flipping him off and downing the rest of his whiskey. "It's not like that."

"What's it like then? Because from where I'm sitting, it's pretty fucking clear, John." Arthur slurred, glass of whiskey sloshing onto his sleeve.

"You're too gone to even know you're chatting shit." John sneered, standing up, "I'm off for a smoke and some fresh air. Try not to fuck anything in my absence, both of you."

His brothers cursed him out as he left. John took a second to figure out his route, purposefully having to cross your path, gesturing for you to follow him subtly. He was surprised you came trailing after him, telling Michael that you weren’t done yelling at him and you’d be back. When you were both only metres from the marquee, he knew you were fucked. You were instantly bored, begging him for a cigarette, which he lit for you, shaking his head at your state.

"You're a fucking mess, love." He said, mouth sloping attractively to one side.

"Takes one to know one, John-boy. Where are we off to, then?"

"Somewhere fucking quiet, can barely hear myself think. Plus, you need to sober the fuck up, lass." He said, softly, as he walked across the dew soaked grass. You followed, heels in hand, holding your dress up as not to ruin it. He sighed, taking the shoes from your hands and wrapping his blazer around your shoulders, linking your arm through his for stability. He kept the distance respectful, but there wasn’t any denying the thick tension in the summer air between the two of you. Ahead, there was a small stone bench sat at the foot of one of Thomas' manicured gardens, and John offered his hand to help you sit. You made small talk and caught up on each other's lives, and you noted John only seemed to glow when you asked about his kids. He talked at length, the drink seemingly unhinging his jaw. There he was again, the John you knew and had admired for so many years. You could sit here forever, watching his blue eyes sparkle in the sunlight. Yet, it just wasn’t meant to be. You wished you could stop time just for a bit, give you enough moments to memorize the freckles on his skin.

"You know the night I first came home?" The alcohol and snow had loosened your lips. You were teetering on the edge of your boundaries, but you couldn't care enough to hold back.

"The night where absolutely nothing happened?" He joked, raising an eyebrow at you, cautious that you'd randomly brought it up in your state. "Sweetheart, this can wait."

He was warning you. For a second you managed to bite your tongue, but curiosity tipped you over the edge.

"But something nearly happened, right?"

"Y/N. Don't." He warned, his tone icy, suddenly distancing from you, hiding between an emotional boundary which he didn't wish to explore.

"John, it's just us. Can't we even talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about, though. You were off your face then, and now. That's fine. We know where we stand. It can't happen."

"I wanted to. I do want to."

"You don't. Trust me. You need a nice lad who'll marry you and look after you. Just need to keep your nose clean long enough yeah?" He teased, trying to lighten the mood, blue eyes begging you to move on.

Your head turned to face him, your face contorting in a mixture of confusion and irritation. "You don't get to tell me what I want or need. The last thing I want is to marry any lad, nice or not."

"I didn't mean it like that, right? Look, I just meant you deserve better than Shelby scum. You're going places you know? Don't settle for Small Heath." John responded with a pained sigh. He didn’t want to get into it with you; not here, not like this. He'd thought about it, naturally. You were constantly on his mind, yet only problems ever seemed to appear, never solutions. It was best for him to avoid you. Why the fuck did he drag you out here? Horrible idea.

"Your family isn't scum. Where the fuck did you get that from?" Your face was screwed up in genuine rage. "I-"

"Y/N, fuckin’ leave it."

His face had hardened completely now. He'd snapped at you. His voice hadn't raised, it was just the power he spat his order out with. You held up your hands in mock surrender, pointedly taking a cigarette from his front pocket and light it silently, not saying a word.

"Why are you so bothered, anyways?" He asked, breaking the silence like you knew he would. John always had to ask questions.

"Fuck off with that, John. I'm not in the mood."

"What do you mean?" He looked completely lost.

"We nearly had sex. Just sex, nothing else right?"

John remained silent.

"Would it be the worst thing in the world?" You asked, your voice wavering. It was hard enough to get the words out, let alone imagine the response.

"You're far too wasted to chat about this, love."

"John, I’m not-"

"I'm serious. You're fucking mashed like my brothers aren't you? Like all those other fuckers in there." He sounded genuinely angry. In the glow of the sunset he looked so much younger, so hurt and lonely. Why hadn't you noticed before?

He turned to you, eyes widened and shocked at his own outburst. "You're not the only one gone yeah? Ignore me, I'm fucked, sorry."

You reached out your hand and linked your fingers through his in silence, the warm evening wind ruffling your hair and dress, blocked from your skin by John's suit jacket which was wrapped around your shoulders. Not that anyone would notice or care. As long as Ada wasn't with you, you could disappear for hours without any alarm. There you sat in the tranquil last few moments of the day, your hand linked with John's, both beyond tipsy. You weren’t thinking properly but it felt right. You felt safe. You didn't want to have to return to the chaos of the party, to have to catch up on who your friends were currently trying to screw. None of that seemed to matter anymore.

Was it too much to ask for something to be simple? Maybe you didn't have to fuck him. Maybe just these small moments were enough. You laughed at the thought when it crossed your mind; neither you nor John were known for consistency or stability in relationships, you being admittedly rather inexperienced, only having been with a few men, and he had his fair share of escapades. But he was just so different. You wouldn't admit that he'd gotten your attention in any way than purely sexually (which surprised you to admit) and for fun, but you genuinely enjoyed his presence.

He was right though. It wasn't a good idea at all to hook up. There was far too much baggage for both of you to make it worth it.

Just once?

You glanced over at John. He rolled his eyes at you, but the edges of his lips were slightly upturned, his dimples faintly peeking through his defined cheeks.

Just once couldn't hurt.

***

The sky was streaked with shades of gold, amber and blood. John could feel the friction from your knee barely knocking against his, the pressure putting him on edge. In fairness, he had drunk heavily, and that's what happens when you let your guard down around beautiful women. He couldn't believe you had told him you wanted to have sex with him still. He'd chalked the whole situation down to a drunken mistake that would have progressed into a far more significant drunken mistake. Ada would never forgive him if he went for another of her mates. Especially Y/N. No matter if he said that Y/N could be different, that you wasn't just another conquest. But who'd believe him?

Far better to keep his mouth shut.

Far better to play safe.

As you were called back to the party by the gaggle of girls John vaguely recognised from hanging off the arms of other blinders, he realised (despite his state) that you were right. Having sex with you wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. In fact, it might be one of the best.

Just once?

He watched your figure disappear back into the marquee, waiting for you to turn back and look for him. You do. He would have done the same if it was him.

Maybe just once wouldn't hurt.

***

to be continued!

#john shelby fluff #john shelby #john shelby x reader #john shelby imagine #john shelby reader insert #peaky blinders fluff #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders

566 notes · View notes

rheawritessometimes · 3 years

Note

hey I really liked the photographer au!! would it be possible to make a part 2 with the liyue men (zhongli, xiao, childe)? only if you're really feeling up to it of course!

{ Model!Childe/Xiao/Zhongli x Photographer!GN!Reader }

{ Summary } Taking pictures of the Liyue gang. Model AU Part 1

{ Warnings } Flash Photography, Zero Research Done, Suggestive

{ Notes } I felt up to it. Is there favoritism? No, only who I felt most inspired by. Some of these people would just make terrible models. Masterlist

{ Word Count } 1,464

Childe

Unfortunately, Childe is aware of the fact that he is handsome. A lot of his natural attractiveness is cancelled out by how insufferable he can be.

If he catches you looking at him, or even if he’s just in your field of view, Childe will strike a dramatic pose. About half the time he will insist that you take a photo of him and will not move until you do so.

Childe also likes to suggest ideas for the shoots. You’re not sure if he’s serious about them or not, but they’re all awful.

“I think it would be better if I did this shoot shirtless,” the redhead says before cleverly adding, “You’d like it better that way too, right?”

It’s hard to tell if he’s being serious between the grin and wink he shows you and the fact he immediately goes to take off the jacket and shirt he’s wearing. Sometimes you wondered why he even accepted modelling contracts, he acted like he just wanted to be photographed according to his own ideas.

“Childe, keep that on. This is a fashion shoot, you’re supposed to be modelling these clothes,” you say, sounding like a tired, scolding parent. "If you want to just have pictures taken of you then you can hire me some other time."

"Oh. Would you be open to a nude shoot, then?"

At least he always brings you treats when you’re photographing him. Something to eat or drink, and sometimes even trinkets that reminded him of you. Very occasionally even expensive jewelry.

Actually, Childe is very obviously rich and it’s not from modelling. You have no idea where he gets the money and question why he’s even a model, the man is loaded enough to do nothing for the rest of his life.

“I’m a model because it would be a crime not to show the world this beauty.”

It’s a struggle to keep your eyes from rolling at his words, but somehow you manage. You were getting used to the Snezhnayan’s theatrics, though you were beginning to notice a good deal of it was used to dodge any questions you had about him. It wasn’t really any of your business, but the man had a lot of mystery surrounding him.

Speaking of mystery, sometimes Childe comes in with random cuts and bruises. He gives no explanation for them. “Oh, are you that concerned for me?”

Once he even came in with a black eye. The makeup artists were good, but there’s no working around that kind of swelling.

“Childe! What happened to you?” you ask, unable to contain your surprise. The man had come in with a black eye as though it was nothing. The eye was even swollen shut, certainly not something that could be covered up with a bit of makeup.

“Oh, is it that bad?” he responded, laughing it off like it was nothing.

“There’s no way we can do the shoot with you looking like this. Come on, let’s get some ice on that.”

“What, you don’t think I’m still handsome?” he asked, but the teasing died off when you grabbed his hand. The action shocked him into silence, allowing you to easily drag him off to ice his eye.

Xiao

Honestly, you’re not sure why Xiao is a model. He’s gorgeous, yeah, but he seems to hate the job. This man does not like sitting still and seems to hate being perceived at all.

It’s hard not to feel bad for the makeup artists when Xiao comes in. It’s no secret that he hates sitting in that chair and having his face pokes at. You’re pretty sure you’ve heard him growl at the makeup artists on more than one occasion.

He’s never growled at you, but Xiao can't even look you in the eye when you get close. He turns his head away from you whenever you need to adjust his clothing or position.

Xiao isn't the greatest at controlling his facial expressions. Oftentimes he just looks angry.

“Xiao, can you please not scowl so hard?” you ask, though it sounds more like a plea at this point. He didn’t need to smile for this shoot, but he was supposed to look neutral. Not like he was plotting a murder.

Xiao grumbled at your request, something about how he’s ‘not scowling’, but did try to adjust. Unfortunately, his expression only shifted from murderous to constipated. At least it was progress in the right direction. Sort of.

Xiao takes naps during breaks but refuses to admit to it. You don’t know why, but he always denies having been asleep. He was just ‘resting his eyes’. You have a few pictures that say otherwise, but you won’t tell him that.

Skateboards to shoots sometimes. The first time he walked in with a skateboard in hand you were so surprised you asked who’s it was. “... It’s mine.”

“Will you teach me how to skateboard, please?” you ask, flashing Xiao you best puppy dog eyes. His expression as he looks at you tells him they’re effective in weakening his resolve.

“Fine, but only the basics,” he agrees after a long moment of consideration.

On the next break you find yourself outside the studio, balancing on a skateboard with Xiao holding your hand. He refused to let go of you, too worried for your safety. With the grip he had, you didn’t think you were at risk of falling.

“Relax a little, you can’t balance if you’re too stiff,” he says, brows furrowed as he concentrates on keeping you steady and correcting your posture. But, as soon as you shift to relax, you wobble a bit on the skateboard. With strength you didn’t know he had, Xiao is lifting you up off the skateboard and onto the ground.

“That’s enough, this is too dangerous.”

Zhongli

There’s no way Zhongli can be human, out of all the people you’ve photographed he is by far the most beautiful. The man even moves with a certain grace you’re certain no human could replicate. But, he laughs it off every time you mention something about it.

To put it bluntly, Zhongli is a pleasure to have on set. He’s polite and a good conversationalist, not to mention very photogenic.

Of course, nobody's perfect. There’s a few downsides to working with Zhongli, primarily his long monologues that make shoots run late and the strange way you always find yourself spending Mora on Zhongli.

Somehow, you frequently find yourself going out to lunch with Zhongli and footing the bill. Sometimes you stop inside a bookstore on your way back and find yourself purchasing a novel for him. You’re not entirely sure how it works out that way, but a day spent with Zhongli always ends with your wallet feeling lighter.

“Thank you again for lunch,” Zhongli says as you two are walking down the street from the cafe.

“No problem, it’s my pleasure,” you tell him with an earnest smile on your face. It’s a few more steps before you realize you have once again paid for this outing. You wouldn’t have minded so much if it weren’t for the fact that last time you went out, you swore it was the last time you were paying for Zhongli.

It always turned out like this, though. You’d never seen Zhongli pay for anything, and from the way Childe spoke of his time with Zhongli, he had noticed the same trend. It wasn’t like the man was hurting for money, he had a very successful job as a model. Just how did this keep happening?

It’s strange, you ended up meeting Zhongli on a shoot that was made last minute due to scheduling errors, but now you’re the only photographer he works with. For a long time you didn’t know this, but Zhongli really only does high end modelling, and you’re definitely not the best of the best, but he only does shoots with you. He refuses to be photographed by anyone else. (You don’t know this, but he made it one of the terms of his contract.)

Zhongli may talk a lot, but most of what he has to say is interesting. He has extensive historical knowledge and often offers unique insights. Sometimes you even find yourself going to him for advice.

Has a dog named Azhdaha.

The screen of your phone illuminates and the ding of a notification resonates through your room just as you’re about to settle into bed. You’re surprised to see the message is from Zhongli, even more so when it contains only an image with no accompanying text.

The image is of a large brown dog splayed out on a tan carpet. You’re about to reply when another message comes through.

Apologies, that was meant for Childe. It is my dog, Azhdaha.

11 notes · View notes

iknowyouthinkimbulletproof · 3 years

Text

The Scar- Calum Hood

A/N: another 5sos fic! Calum hood x y/n. Y/n’s gender is female for this fic, it just made it easier to write, my apologies to anyone it might upset, but you can always request. Feel free to correct any mistakes! there will be a part two!

WARNINGS: this fic does contain multiple mentions of an abusive family, read at your own risk.

Not my gif!

plot: y/n and Calum meet for the first time!

2430 words

When y/n was still a child she had always dreamed of becoming a celebrity, like every other kid. unlike the other children though, it seemed impossible to her. To y/n, she sounded horrible, not to mention the looks. y/n had always thought this way because there was never one person to tell her otherwise. It's not like anyone knew what she was struggling with to be fair. Years of practice and motivation from her parents, the only time they encouraged y/n, lead to y/n being the perfect actor in front of others. No one would notice the damage done to y/n because the walls built around her took a team of three to build and would most likely take an even bigger team to deconstruct. Or at least that's what she thought. Apparently all y/n needed was a wrecking ball.

Day after day y/n would wake early to sit in front of her mirror with a brush. She normally wasn’t the type to hate anything, other than her parents, because nothing could compare to the years of trauma her parents had stocked her up on. So when y/n said she hated her foundation brushes, she meant it.

Makeup used to be one of her favorite things, she used it as a pastime. When she was a young teen, she spent most of her time in her room trying as many looks as possible. It wasn’t like her to believe that you could only have one aesthetic, she would change her look up as many times as she wanted. Going from “emo” looks one day to “kawaii” looks the next. It only made sense that she would do the same with her makeup as well. Her parents didn’t seem to mind the looks. Whatever would cover up the bruises they gifted her seemed to be helping them in some twisted way. One day it all fell apart though. Everything her parents had built was destroyed.

The process left y/n with a humongous scar on her face. The scar started right above her right eyebrow. If it had ended below the eyebrow, it would have just seemed like she wanted an eyebrow slit, she might have even been able to cover it easily with a brow pencil. If it had ended there, but it didn’t. It ended right above her jaw bone. It wasn’t straight either. Most scars can go away with time, but hers was too deep. It would never go away. It showed her and the world her past. She hated it.

So, as much as she hated the foundation brushes she used every morning, she continued to use them. That hideous scar needed to be covered up. Especially with all the attention she was getting. Once news came out that two well liked members of y/n’s small hometown abused their child, people were furious. Many tried helping y/n. One of the teachers at school had convinced her to try out for the drama club. She received the leading role in Annie for the school’s play. News spread fast in the town and soon people had begun to call colleges and agencies to come watch her performance, all of which y/n had no clue they were doing. One specific agency had agreed to work with her for free until she got off the ground. She almost rejected the opportunity. That was until her foster mother had informed her that her parents weren’t going to spend as much time in jail as they had hoped. Taking the opportunity had forced y/n to continue high school in Los Angeles. She was also set up with a new foster home. Throughout all of this, the scar was hidden. She didn’t want her chance to leave to be taken away.

Years later and no one she surrounded herself with knew of her past, or even seen her scar. Not even the makeup artists she’s worked with. She always showed up a foundation on and since it was a perfect match to her color, the makeup artists let it slide and just continued to transform her into her characters.

y/n had in fact gotten off the ground, it was now a daily thing for her to be recognized. She even met some celebrities she grew up with.

There was one day though, soon after her 23rd birthday, that y/n had not put on foundation. She felt that she wouldn’t be recognizable without it, so she wanted to try it. She had woken up later than usual then dressed herself in shorts and a tee. She went on a run and low and behold, no one recognized her. She ended up at her usual cafe. Just like every morning, she walked up the cashier and ordered her usual. The cashier, Linda, a nice old lady, who had worked there every morning tried not to stare. It was a weird experience for both of them. Linda could have sworn that y/n looked familiar, but she shrugged it off. y/n was holding back an expression of surprise, she thought that out of everyone Linda would have noticed her. Once she received her coffee, she went to leave. That is when she ran into her wrecking ball, not that she knew it. y/n had spilt her coffee all over the strange man she knew as Calum. She didn’t know much about Calum, she only knew his name from the few times she had heard his name being called for his coffee. She also knew that Cal was well aware of who she was, with makeup that is.

“Im so sorry!” y/n exclaimed. She might’ve still been in shock from the events that had happened so far into the day, but there was no way she could have missed the look she received from the man. It wasn’t one of disgust, but more of one of surprise. The look he had however, didn’t match hers. He wasn’t in surprise from the coffee he had spilt on him, but rather the girl in front of him.

“It’s fine really.” Calum stated as kindly as possible. There was no way he could ever even think of being rude to a lady so beautiful.

“It’s really not, I can pay for the shirt and for whatever you were gonna order.” she offers in a hurried tone even if she wasn’t in a rush. This is because she thought he was trying not to give her pity.

“No need, I actually feel as if I should buy you another one-” he offers, “- it was my fault anyways, i'm so clumsy i’ve been in this situation before.” he lied. y/n was well aware of the lie. Most of the time she was here before him and left after him, she had not seen it happen. An argument be that he’s done it before she moved into the neighborhood, but that also wasn’t true because y/n had witnessed him and Roy struggling to carry a couch into their home while on her run. She had actually had a conversation with Roy and she probably could have become good friends with him if she had tried.

“It's fine really” the words coming out of her mouth this time. Before they could interact anymore though, Linda had appeared to usher them both out of the way to clean the mess that was made. She had begun to lecture Calum, one of her favorite clients, on making a mess when y/n slipped out of the Cafe. she stuck her head back in though to apologize to one last time to both of them before running off.

She had made it home and took a shower when there was a knock at the door. Realizing that her scar was uncovered, she tried to cower.

“Y/n, it’s Roy! I...um brought cookies to celebrate your new movie! Oh and a friend.” That was the last thing she had expected to hear through her door. She knew the friend had to be Calum, she also knew she would have to explain herself to the men. Finally getting the courage, she opened the door. Before you could say anything Calum had begun to talk.

“Hey, it’s you again. What are you doing here?” he asked. Suddenly feeling shy y/n lowered her head.

“Are you ok?” Calum pressed. Looking up again she can see both the boys now wearing concerned faces.

“Y/n?” Roy questioned. Gulping, y/n decided to just rip the bandage off.

“Yep, that's me. Nice to see you Roy.” slightly shaking she opens the door wider as if to invite them in. Roy understood what she meant and walked in, his expression now gone and replaced with his original smile, Calum on the other hand still wore his as he followed his friend in. She led the men into her living room.

“Sorry for the mess.” she states. Calum and Roy looked around to see what she was talking about. Cal’s brows frowning more. There was no mess. To them anyways, to y/n her only thought was that her parents would murder her for having friends over without vacuuming and tidying every corner of the house. They sat down and y/n left to go get them drinks. While in the kitchen she could hear them whispering about her. Wiping any look of sadness from her face, she picked up the drinks and headed back into the living room. Handing them their drinks, she places coasters onto the table for them. They have a light conversation, them being Roy and y/n. Cal was too busy staring at her. He was confused, how could he have not realized. How come he didn’t know that the beauty of both women was actually the beauty of one. Finally giving into the stares y/n sighs.

“I know you’re probably confused about the...um you know-” she says, gesturing to her face, “i just didn’t want anyone to find out about it yet. There’s not really any good memories that came with it. You understand right?”

“Of course!” Roy claims, nodding his head then nudging his friend, who also nodded but not nearly as harsh as Roy had done.

“We won’t say anything if that's what you’re asking” Calum states, he could see that them agreeing with her hadn’t reassured her enough. She smiles gently at him as Roy agrees again. The conversation had now been a lot more free. All three of them were involved now. The conversation drifted to her movie and their music at points. y/n felt bad as she had genuinely gotten a liking to them, Calum in particular. She wanted to talk to them again, but her past was coming to haunt her, she couldn’t. The cookies were amazing, store bought, but amazing. They trio all slowly coming quiet, they had spent hours together chatting. It was now 4 in the afternoon. It seemed as neither man wanted to leave. It had been a while since they had made a new friend. Calum excused himself to the bathroom, leaving y/n and Roy. she tried her best to hint that it may be time for them to leave without seeming rude. Roy helped her bring the cups and trash into the kitchen. He watched as she cleaned each cup multiple times. To him it must have seemed as if she were nervous because she was being watched. To her though, each mug needed to be perfectly spotless or something bad would happen. It was rooted into her mind. If you dug deep enough into it, you would see y/n’s memories of being yelled at and having dishes and pots thrown at her for not having the house perfectly cleaned. Calum, finally out of the bathroom, joined Roy. together they watched the woman dry her hands before turning towards them. Before she could get a word out, Roy suggested that they should get going. Cal’s eyes couldn’t have missed her smile quickly dropping before resuming back to its original place. y/n nods before leading the kind men back to her front door. Roy leaning slightly to give her a hug and saying a quick bye, she responded as she knew how.

“Goodbye.” It was a simple statement really, but she was taught to never try to stay in touch with people outside of necessity. Though she did give him another kind smile, one that shows her teeth in just the slightest way. Now facing Cal who, unlike his friend, was staring at the floor. Roy, waiting for him at the gate, tries his hardest not to watch their interaction. From his point of view, he can see them talking before y/n goes completely still. y/n was in shock, she had never been in this situation before. She didn’t know how to respond. Cal had asked for her number. She didn’t have anyone who wasn’t work related on her phone, should she let herself add a contact for Cal? She didn’t know the answer, she stayed still, evening out her breathing while she felt two different sets of eyes on her. Still as stiff as humanly possible, she smiles and hands her, now open, phone to Calum. He grins so softly that y/n missed it, he handed her his unlocked phone as well. He creates a contact in her phone with all his information before snapping a quick photo of himself. He listed himself as “cute neighbor”, which is quite bold seeing as he had no idea if y/n liked him, and pressed save. On Calum’s phone, y’n had simply only typed her phone number and listed herself as “y/n”. Before she could press save, Calum handed her phone back to her, she looked at the contact and her lips lifted. She turned off her phone and put it in her pocket. She looked back to Calum’s phone and changed her name to “scar girl” before saving the contact and passing the phone back to him. Unfortunately for her, Calum didn’t look at the contact and just shut off the phone. Which might have been better if she thought about it. She didn’t want to see Calum’s reaction to the name, she just hoped it was positive. As they looked into each others eyes, a blush formed onto their cheeks. y/n whispered a silent goodbye before walking back into her home and softly closing the door.

#calum hood x y/n #calum x reader #calum hood #5sos imagine #fic #imagines #lots of love #-lizza

56 notes · View notes

imagine-loki · 4 years

Text

Date Night

TITLE: Date Night

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: One shot

AUTHOR: Kaogasm

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine you inviting Loki out on a date, your first date just the two of you! You go to the meeting place early, but when the meeting time passes, Loki still hasn’t come. He doesn’t have a phone, so you can’t contact him either. You don’t want to face the possibility that he stood you up. Surely he’s not the type to do that? Surely something cropped up?

RATING: G

NOTES/WARNINGS: No warnings. It’s also posted on Ao3, if you prefer reading it there.

After months of secret glances, a compliment here and there, a subtle touch of hands and an enormous amount of secretly pining after each other, you had decided that enough is enough and made the first move.

You had asked the God of Mischief out on a date.

It took the both of you a whole week to decide on the location. Every suggestion you made was met with an excuse on why it was beneath him to be seen there. Curse your mortal heart for falling for such a diva. But you didn’t let that deter you. You had already made a fool of yourself by stuttering the whole time trying to ask him out, there was no way you would let him back out of it with petty excuses.

When you finally decided on a restaurant, Le Bernadin in Midtown Manhattan, you agreed to meet up on the weekend at 7pm sharp. It was probably going to cost you half your rent, but you’ll manage. There were still a few days until then, so you used the time to plan your outfit. Loki was going to take care of the reservations.

As the days went by, you found yourself getting excited about your first date. You were already making up scenarios how the evening would go. Starting with dinner, probably followed by a walk through Central Park. Maybe he’d even kiss you when he would walk you to your front door. You liked the idea and were looking forward to it.

When Saturday came along, you felt quite nervous about the whole thing. Sure, you liked him, and he probably liked you, otherwise he wouldn’t have agreed to go out. But what if he got cold feet? What if he was turned off by your outfit? Or your makeup?

Your roommate helped you get ready, even smacked you over the head for starting to doubt your decision to ask Loki out. You were thankful for that, even though it hurt. Luckily she didn’t hit you on the forehead, otherwise you would have been sporting a nice bruise by the time you got to the restaurant. Curse that sensitive skin your parents have passed down to you.

You picked up your phone, checked that you had all your payment apps updated and ready. You hated taking more items than needed. Especially when it meant having to use a bag. Your outfit style didn’t allow a bag, maybe a small clutch at most and you were quite pleased about it. You won’t need to bring your keys, since your roommate would be home by the time you got back and you could put your phone in the pocket of your outfit. No extra luggage. Perfect.

By quarter past six you left your apartment and made your way to the restaurant. You had arrived early, since you couldn’t afford being fashionably late, because of your reservation. You decided to wait for Loki before going in. The restaurant looked simply exquisite, to the point that even standing outside of it made you feel small and insecure.

You hoped Loki wouldn’t find any problems to get there soon.

The problem was, it was almost 7pm and he was nowhere to be seen.

Alright, maybe he was held in traffic. It could happen! But then again, he could move around with magic. So traffic was no issue.

At least you hoped it wasn’t. Did teleportation have traffic jams as well?

You decided to wait, nervously looking at the time on your phone screen. It was quarter past. You cursed the fact that Loki refused to carry a mobile phone. This was one of those times where that would have been quite helpful! People were starting to stare at you standing in front of the restaurant, so you started casually pacing, pretending you weren’t waiting there for someone. You weren’t being stood up.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at your phone again and saw that it’s been half an hour since the agreed upon time and Loki was nowhere to be seen. You have definitely been stood up.

All the trouble you had gone through to make this happen, and he stood you up.

Trying and failing to stop the shuddering sobs, you walked to your car that you had parked at a parallel street, where parking was a bit cheaper, and drove back home. You hoped your roommate would be there, otherwise you’d be sitting at the door waiting for her to come back and open the door. You really should have grabbed your keys.

You parked your car on the street where you lived and walked the short distance to your apartment building. You had stopped trying to hold back your sobs the whole drive back. Your makeup was running down your face and you were a complete mess. You felt humiliated, disappointed and angry. Not only at Loki for standing you up, but also at yourself for being such an idiot and believing that the Trickster God would actually have feelings for you. You have fallen to one of his tricks!

As you reached the entrance to your apartment building, you saw a silhouette of a man sitting at the bottom of the stairs leading to the main door. You wiped your cheeks and as you got closer, he stood up and you noticed he was holding a single white rose in his hand. Your favorite flower.

“Y/N?”

You stood in your tracks. In all the anger and disappointment going on in your head, you had neglected to notice that the man at your front door was Loki. He was dressed in what seemed to be an expensive slim fit, grey 3-piece suit, with a black shirt and a black tie. His hair was tied neatly at the back of his neck and not a single strand out of place.

“Are you alright?” He took a couple of steps towards you but halted in shock when your hand landed across his face as you slapped him.

“How could you do this to me?” You snarled at him, tears resuming their flow over your cheeks. “I’ve been waiting for you for over thirty minutes! Do you know how humiliating it is to be stood up?”

“But…” He stood there, dumbfounded and not knowing what you were on about, while you pushed passed him and climbed the stairs to the main entrance and started ringing the bell to your apartment. You hoped your roommate was home and would open the door soon. You didn’t want to stay out there with Loki around.

For once in his life, Loki was speechless. He hadn’t stood you up! He had been waiting for you at your doorstep since 7 o’clock just as you had agreed on!

“Y/N,” he called after you and stood at the end of the stairs, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t you lie to me!” You practically hissed at him, seething in anger. You wiped your face and turned away from him, ringing the bell once more and kept pressing the button for a good measure.

Loki set the rose on one of the steps before he climbed up the stairs. He placed a gentle hand over yours that was pressing the doorbell button. You jerked your hand away, as if his touch was a jolt of unwelcome electricity that you didn’t want anywhere near you. “Please leave.” You said, your voice almost a whisper.

“No.” He crossed his arms, realizing that touching you in any form wasn’t welcome at that moment. Yet, he was not going anywhere before sorting this out. “Look at me, please, Y/N.”

When you refused to do so, he sighed and repeated his request. “Y/N, please look at me. I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

That seemed to irritate Loki, for his nostrils flared at your harsh tone. Too many people in his life refused to hear him out. He would be damned to let you fall down to the ranks of those. He grabbed your shoulders and forced you to turn to him, though you kept your face to the side, not meeting his eyes.

“I did not stand you up! I was here waiting for you like we had agreed on! Seven o’clock! If anything, you are the one who stood me up!”

If the words hadn’t registered within your anger fuelled brain, the exasperated tone of his voice definitely caught your attention. You finally turned your face to look at him. You stared into his eyes, looking for a lie and you could find none.

“We agreed to meet up at seven.” You finally said, realization finally reaching the part of your brain cells that were not blinded by your anger. You haven’t actually specified where you would be meeting up.

It seemed that Loki had come to the same conclusion as he looked at the confused look you were suddenly giving him. “We never mentioned a meeting place.” He concluded for you.

“I’m such an idiot.” You sighed, dropping your gaze to the ground and tightly shutting your eyes. If you were feeling humiliated earlier for being stood up, you were now feeling it ten times worse and you wished the ground would rip and swallow you whole.

“You’re not.” His voice was soft and you could hear a gentle smile in it. He carefully raised your face to meet his gaze with two fingers under your chin. You kept your eyes shut, though. You were too embarrassed at the way you lashed out at him for something that wasn’t his fault. “We agreed on meeting at seven, I assumed I was going to pick you up. That’s how Midgardian men do it, isn’t it?”

The gentle palm against your cheek prompted you to finally open your eyes. The way he smiled at you sent a chill down your spine and you couldn’t help but to smile back. “Sometimes, yes.” You mumbled, feeling your anger dissipating. So he had done some homework. 10 points to whichever house he would be sorted into.

“Our reservation was at eight.” He looked at his watch and shrugged. “And we just missed it.” He grinned.

“I’m sorry.” You whined your apology, leaning your forehead against his chest. He really had the whole thing planned. Being picked up at 7, dinner reservation at 8. All nicely timed and you fucked it up by not talking about where you would meet after having decided on the when portion of things.

He pulled you closer and wrapped his arms around you. “No, I’m the one who needs to apologize. I should have asked you where we would be meeting. I’m really sorry, Y/N. I’m sorry I made you cry. I promise to do better next time.”

Hang on. Next time? You raised your head and looked at him. He looked down at you with both eyebrows raised in confusion.

“You said next time.”

“Well…” He relaxed, realizing your own confusion and smiled. “I was very much looking forward to our evening together. I think it’s only fair we reschedule.”

“Are you sure about that?” You looked at him apprehensively.

He leaned down and captured your lips in a soft peck, which was more than enough to send your brain into a whirlwind. “Absolutely.”

#Loki #Imagine #Submitted one shot #submission #kaogasm #date night

69 notes · View notes

jay-and-dean · 4 years

Text

Become That Girl Part 1/2

Dean x reader

Summary : Y/n never was his type. She is the buddy type ; sexy and glamorous are just not her. It’s time to try to change that... To change everything about herself. And maybe, just maybe, this flirty smile will be for her next time...

Warning : Swearing. Suffering and mentions of unhealthy behaviors. Smut. Unprotected sex (you’re smarter than this). Kinda rough sex. ANGST.

Words : 7.7 k

Author note : This was supposed to be a one shot, but there will be a part 2. I will publish it this week (tuesday I hope).

***Want to read more ? => MASTERLIST***

__________________________

Dean's hand brushes that girl's palm and those adorable wrinkles appear on his eyes for her, he gives her these sweet eyes I saw only in these circumstances; his head slightly bending on the side. His flirty smile.

"It's ridiculous" I grunt, taking a sip of my beer.

"Yeah" Sam chuckles.

But I struggle to swallow. The truth is I would give my life, my soul and everything else for Dean Winchester looking at me like this just once. For him to touch my hand that way. For whatever is to come with that girl. The idea of him sinking inside her is like a stab in my chest, but I'm used to that pain.

I know I will never taste his lips, because I'm not that girl, not even close.

I'm the kind of girl guys love because they can be themselves with her, I'm the buddy type. And along the way, I became Dean Winchester's friend. He gives me drinks and teases me all the time on my tastes in music, on my tastes in food, in men... If only he knew.

It was quick for me to fall in love with him. I have never been in love before, not for real ; so I didn't really know what was happening to me at first. I never was the kind of girl that forces to laugh at men's joke, that wear pink or try to look like society wants women to be. I never faked a smile, but Dean, he makes me giggle like an idiot, and everything he says actually interests me. I'm fascinated by him.

He's beautiful, but that's not even what I like the most about him. It's like I just could read him, his soul, the way he hides pain, the way his humor is way darker than people think, that incredible ability he has to be himself, that fake harshness and the size of his noble heart...

He bends to catch the girl's lips and I bite the inside of my cheek to hold back the whine of pain coming up my spine.

My stomach contracts at how empty I feel and I look down at my hands. That void I feel each time I come to the full conscience that I will never feel him on and inside me, it hurts way too much. It’s beyond craving, it’s like a part of me was missing.

"Are you okay ?" Sam asks, probably reading the sorrow on my face.

"Of course" I state. "I'm just tired, that hunt was a bitch."

I want to drink too much, drown my stupid brain in fucking alcohol. The puking and hangover are way better than being able to imagine him with her, his hands on her hair, his tongue around her nipples...

I get up and go to the bar, avoiding to get too close to Dean and her, I don't need to know her smell or voice, my brain would turn it into torture.

"Whiskey please, leave the bottle" I tell the bartender.

He doesn't look at me when he hands me the bottle, not even checking my age or my eyes. He is looking at Dean's conquest and that desire, almost envy, on his face catches my attention despite my will not to look at her.

Taking the bottle, I glance at that woman everyone seems to admire. Dean's back is toward me so I can see half her face, behind his silhouette. She's pretty. A wide smile on her face, bright eyes, sulky hair and makeup ; she doesn't have scars, or bruises like me and her only wrinkles are just highlighting her smile, like she had never worried or frown.

I pour whisky in my own glass and empty it, then do it again. I go back to my table to join Sam, my empty glass in one hand and the bottle in the other, it didn't even pay, but when the bartender will be back on Earth, maybe he'll ask me. Meanwhile, fuck him.

"I'm not holding your hair tonight Y/n" Sam sighs.

"Yeah... don't worry Sammy" I shrug.

***

"Oh... fuck…" I grunt opening my eyes. "Oh ! Fuck !" I gasp before I run to the toilets to empty my stomach in the bowl.

Sam pushes the door and rubs his eyes.

"Y/n ?"

"Shut up..." I whine, pushing my hair out of my sweaty face.

I flush the toilets and get up stumbling, I start undressing, knowing Sammy will just not watch, and he turns his back on me to pee. When I enter the shower, I grunt at the warm water.

"Coffee ?" he asks.

"Yes please, with aspirin in it... What is that ?" I look at my very sore hand and see it's all purple and blue. "Sammy why is my hand all bruised ?"

He chuckles and when he washes his hands the water of the shower suddenly becomes cold for a minute.

"A guy called you babydoll and touched your ass" I hear the smile in his voice. "You broke his face before I could move."

Shit... I bet if someone had done that to Dean's pretty girl, she would have needed a prince in shining armor. Me, I just break faces. I grunt and put my head on the tiles, I'm just not a lady, maybe that's why Dean doesn't want me, even for a quick fuck...

I'm in my jeans and bra when Sam comes back with coffee. He gives it to me and hands me aspirin. He slept in my motel room, that means Dean brought his girl in theirs. I frown and grunt, my eyes still barely open. Sam offers me an amused dimple smile.

"When you're around, it's like having another Dean" he mocks.

My heart breaks.

I know it was not meant to be mean and being anything like Dean can only be a good think but... Am I really so far from being a girly girl ?

I get up and take my clothes, my too long and worn out Led Zeppelin t-shirt and black rangers. I sigh. Yeah well maybe I don't dress like a princess too... Fuck !

The door opens and Dean enters the room with cups of coffee in his hands. Each time that man comes near, something happens, like the colors were brighter, like my blood was warmer… He turns to me and raises his eyebrows, probably seeing what a mess I am, my wet hair all messy, the cuts and bruises on my arms, face and hands.

"You look like shit" he says and a new kind of stab hits my gut. "What did you do last night ? Did you see someone ?"

"Haha ! She met a guy !" Sam mocks and I grunt.

"Really ?" Dean frowns like it was beyond surprising.

"She may have broken his jaw" Sam chuckles and Dean comes closer.

"Did you fight again ?" he sighs, taking my hand to check on it.

He still smells like this girl’s perfume and I'm nauseous. I take my fingers back and show him I can move them fine with an annoyed look. Then I take the coffee of his hand and thank him.

"Hey !" he calls me when I'm about to take my bag to leave.

So I turn around and put a light kiss on his cheek like I do every morning, making him smile like a child. I stare for a little too long at his proud face and walk pass him.

In the car I take my shoes off to put my feet on the backseat, Dean is mumbling the Metallica song, his beautiful strong fingers dancing on the rhythm against the wheel. And before I can look away, I have this vision of him sinking this amazing middle finger inside her core.

Shit... I'm nauseous again.

I guess in this world of blood and violence, coming deep inside a soft sweet angel-like princess must be a relief. I can’t enjoy one night stands anymore, but he can, good for him. It's not his fault if sex makes me feel dirty since I know him, like I was cheating...

Stupid.

I just wish it would happen to me once... Having him. I know how dumb this sounds because I'd probably be dead with grief once he turns to a better girl again, but I would give anything to spend a night with him. I have to stop dreaming, he doesn't even see me as a woman.

I frown and put my head back on the window.

"Hey Y/n ?" he says, looking at me in the rear-view mirror. "Now the hunt is over, we finally have a little time together. We could do our horror movies marathon ? I can't wait to see your face when we wa..."

"You're the one hiding against me Winchester" I state with my usual a mocking grin.

It's not even a lie and he rolls his eyes, glancing at Sam who's still listening to some conference in his headphone.

"I just can't wait to eat all those candies we hid in your room, without Sam lecturing us" he smiles with his teeth showing and my heart melts.

What if I tried...

What if I tried to be the kind of girls he likes ? I mean, I'm nothing special but with a little efforts I could at least become a girl in his eyes... Would he still be able to just stuff his mouth with sugar when he's so close to me in my bed, if he saw me as a real lady ?

I look down at myself and sigh. I will have to change absolutely everything... But maybe this could work.

***

It's only been a few hours since we got back, Dean went to take a shower and Sam went running, which doesn’t make fucking sense after a hunt so rough.

Taking a huge bite of that big double chocolate brownie, I stare at my laptop, watching stupid videos of makeover, style, makeup and how to do your hair ; and if I wasn't thinking of if Dean would like this thing or not... I would probably have died of boredom already.

I should try to work on my attitude too. Swear less, sit straighter, be less loud, spontaneous, stop saying when I need to pee, drink less and try those stupid sweet cocktails when I do, let men defend me. I don't get to skip wax day anymore, I have to look sexy or eventually childishly cute, but not at all like I do right now. Boy !Being a “girl” is no fun at all.

I look at the Pinterest and Instagram pictures of those pretty girls and put my brownie down watching my belly, a diet wouldn't hurt either.

A knock on my door, Dean enters with a cute smile, his hair still wet. I close my laptop and throw the brownie in the trash, sitting straighter already, I pull my stomach slightly in.

"I bought beer" he says and sits on my bed, opening one for me but I shake my head. "Still too hangover ?" he asks and I nod.

During the whole movie, I try to watch my attitude, not spreading my legs to put bowls of candies between them, not making fun of him when he jumps. And when he falls asleep beside me, I just stare at him thinking of how many things I would sacrifice for him. I dare touching his hair and leans to my touch, coming closer in his sleep. I want more.

I need more.

***

I barely slept tonight, half stressed, half exited by my project.

As usual, Dean left in the middle of the night, kissing my forehead to say goodnight. I get up, eat fruits and shit instead of cereals and go running, drinking water, more water than what I usually drink in a week. I read coffee makes teeth become yellow and gives shadows under the eyes, so I will stop it too.

When I take my car to go fucking shopping -I always hated shopping-, I try my best to smile, looking on the mirrors of the car. Sweet and open Y/n...

I manage to hold back my middle finger when a jerk takes the parking lot I wanted. I'm hungry but my body needs to learn to shut up. If I want Dean Winchester to consider kissing me, I have to be perfect. There is no compromise.

I try clothes and I feel like I'm wearing a costume, with those bruises and all, it's stupid anyway. So I decide to go one step at a time. I'll wear normal size shirts instead of oversized and a nice jacket first, I'm not ready for dresses or too colorful for now.

I buy lace panties and push up bras then decide to throw away my other underwear to make sure I wear them, because they're so uncomfortable I will be tempted to go back... I keep drinking water when I buy makeup and nail polish, trying my best to both pull my stomach in and ignore the heavy perfume smell and the employees trying to sell me way too many things. I need girly shampoo and all, because I usually just use Dean's.

Then I lock myself in my room for hours, fighting with my body, waxing with incredible care, putting sticky things on my hair to make them shiny, cream on my skin to make it soft, mascara to make my eyes bigger… I even pierce my own ears.

But the more I try, the more I feel ugly. I always tied my hair in buns-easier to fight, run and look like an FBI agent- but now it’s down, and I look at these models,it seems dull… Same for every inch of my body. Why do girls do that to themselves ! Or maybe I’m the one that is a problem, maybe I’m just disgusting and avoided to see it for years. No wonder why Dean never looked at me.

I stare at myself and sigh. Fuck. Even doing all that, there is about zero chance Dean would ever want me one day, even just for a night. It’s going to hurt way more than hunger and wax, but I have to go further, I have to pay attention when he’s with a woman…

***

“MOTHERFUCKING BITCH !” I yell throwing the stupid scale against the wall.

It’s been three months and I haven’t lost a pound. I’m hungry all the time, from morning to the next morning, it’s even waking me at night. I only eat salad and drink water… I mean, my hands are shaking for Christ sake !

Three months of trying so hard to act like a sweet fragile angel with a weakness for sin : cute and sexy. But I’m still swearing like a sailor when I don’t pay attention and I’m still fat. Hunts are becoming more difficult because I’m weak, and fun times with my friends are more rare, because they only do what I can’t : drink beers, eat burgers, make fun of horror movies, play whiskey poker… I used to love whiskey poker so much ; the night Dean invented it, we were beyond drunk but it was one of my best memories, he ended cutting my hair and it was bad, but I didn’t care at all.

“Are you okay ?” Sam says, opening the door but I close it brutally.

“Sam ! I’m a girl you know ! You and your brother can’t just enter the bathroom when I’m in it !” I yell through the door, hurt that they keep treating me as if I was the third Winchester brother, and worried they would see my ugly fat body...

“Sorry Y/n, I didn’t know you were naked” he states.

“Naked or not, Sam !”

“What’s the problem ?” I hear Dean ask his brother, and put my head on the door.

“She’s just grumpy again…” Sam sighs and I frown.

I do argue with them more often… I didn’t noticed that.

“Sweetheart ?” Dean calls though the door and tries to push it.

“Are you serious !” I cry out pushing the door. “Stop forgetting I’m a girl, you don’t get free access on the bathroom when I’m in it !”

“Okay” Dean just says and he leaves.

I never forbid them to enter, and I have great memories of watching Dean brushing his teeth while I dried my hair, of his intimacy only hidden by a white towel around his waist while I joined him in the hot steam his shower made to talk about anything.

My Dean and I used to be awesome… But in a buddy way. I feel tears fill my eyes but try to hold them back because I really don’t want to do my makeup again. I caught him staring at my cleavage yesterday, and he said lipstick suited me last week. I have to be strong, if Dean gives me that flirty eyes, I would be worth it.

But we don’t talk that much either and… I really miss him in every way, I miss my friend and I feel lost and lonely. The sadness these thoughts bring, mixed with the exhaustion of hunger, and the pain of that unrequited love finally makes me fully burst in tears. My hand on my mouth I muffle the sounds of my sobs, realizing I will never have him, and probably fucked up the only good thing I had : That pure and loving friendship with the Winchesters.

***

I take a bite of my salad and hold back a gag. Not that I don’t like salad, but eating only that is becoming really sickening. Dean looks at me and there is no kind expression on his face, that tender smile I used to see everyday faded along the weeks.

“Take a bite” he says, handing me his burger, cheese dripping on his fingers.

“What ? No…” I shrug. “I’m not super hungry.”

I’m not an idiot, at least not completely : I knew my best friends would notice a change in my behavior. I mean, Dean seeing a change is the all point, but I don’t want to look like I’m trying so hard. So lately I’ve been putting empty pizza boxes on the table from time to time. And my outfits were replaced slowly…

But they’re not idiots either.

“I just want to check something” he says.

I can’t, after all these efforts, if I bite in that thing, I will become even fatter than I am, I can’t afford that…

“I don’t want to, Dean.”

“I made it myself” he insists, practically putting the food on my lips and the smell is becoming too tempting.

“Dean ! No ! I’m sure it’s delicious because your homemade burgers are always a success but it’s a no !” I push him wiping the ketchup that fell on my shirt. “What is wrong with you…”

“What is wrong with me !” his harsh tone surprises me. “I’m super worried, that’s what is wrong ! Do you have eating disorder now or something ?”

“What ? No ! Of course not, you know me !”

“Yeah… Do I ?” he asks before getting up, leaving his plate barely touched in front of me.

“Dean ?” I call but too low, he can’t hear me…

***

I didn’t come out of my room. Not once, since Dean looked at me that way, a sad way, like I had betrayed him or something, just because of a burger…

Who am I kidding ? It’s not because of a burger, my best friend just doesn’t recognize me. I can’t be that girl, I’m just not enough. Curling in my bed, I take a deep shaky breath, I’m really tired of crying so I just stare at the wall, thinking about what Dean must think of me. He must be disappointed, and that’s the worst I can imagine. Dean, my Dean, thinking low of me, annoyed or hurt because of me.

A knock on the door. I lift my eyes to the red numbers in the dark : 10:18 pm. Usually, when one of the brothers knock on my door, they start talking to me through it and if I don’t yell that I’m naked, they just enter. Not this time. The knock is discreet and followed by a heavy silence.

Surprised by that unusual quiet, I get up, arranging the top I was wearing because it went up my stomach. I open the door and my pupils grow, I can almost feel it, seeing Dean’s beautiful eyes in the lights of the corridor.

“Y/n…” he says with his deep voice, his right hand on his pocket. “I’m sorry I was a drag earlier. You need space from us, I get it… Living with guys…” his tone is a little sad but very kind, I don’t know what to say. “Just, don’t change who you are, please. You can eat what you want and wear what you want sweetheart, okay ?”

“I do” I nod to close the subject and ease that worrying on his handsome face.

He bends and slowly crushes the plumb of his lips on my forehead like he always does when he’s worried about me, after hunts, before hunts… when I’m sick or tired or anything. I close my eyes, trying to enjoy this without ruining it with the pain of that stupid unrequited love.

“I just miss my friend” he says low. “I promise I won’t bother you more and knock and all, but could we spend a night together at the bar ? With Sammy ? Like we used too ? I miss that.”

The look on his face is like his brother’s puppy eyes and I feel both relieved and terrified. I miss him like crazy and just want to say yes and follow him running ; but if he leaves with a girl… It might kill me this time.

“Yeah… Okay” I sigh. If he gets with a woman, I’ll just try to observe her. “Can I just have a little time to get ready ?”

“Of course sweetheart” he nods, letting go of me. “Take your time.”

After a few minutes trying to recover from Dean being so adorable, I finally managed to go to the bathroom. Tonight I will really try to look like one of Dean’s conquest, so I stare at it : the only dress I own.

I bought it after I saw Dean glance at a girl in the street during the last hunt. It is the kind of dress I thought I'd never wear, I actually never even thought of wearing one in my life. The dress the girl wore was a little too sexy according to me, even slutty. Women should dress like they want to, but I wasn't ready for that super short red bustier dress, with boobs everywhere calling for attention.

Yet, I have to become that girl, that's the whole point. If Dean likes his women bundled up in skinny dresses, so be it.

I sight, looking at the girdle I have to wear to put that dress on, I empty my lungs and compress my stomach the more I can. Taking the dress, I hesitate, maybe this is too much.... But this is the prize to pay if I want any chance that Dean would look at me ; tonight I'm going to be that girl.

The dress is simple but very sexy. Black taut fabric hugging me tight, with a cleavage like a bra, and straight straps, useless because the dress is so tight it holds me. I look at myself in the mirror and sigh, I'm not enough.

I put makeup, just mascara and lipstick, and right now I have trouble thinking I don't look like a whore, but I try to remember those girls Dean likes wear more makeup and even sexier closes, so...

A knock.

"Y/n ?" Sam says. "If you don't get out of this bathroom, Dean will be drunk before we reach the bar.

Shit, the short dress is so tight that my panties are showing.

"Yeah, go to the car, I'm ready !" I state through the door, taking off my panties.

I have no underwear that would be good with this dress... It is short, but not too much, and it's tight, so no one will see anything when I sit. I look at myself in the mirror and decide I just won't wear panties. I take my black leather jacket and leave the bathroom trying to hide I'm shaking.

***

When I enter the garage, Sam and Dean are sitting on the edge of Baby, with Led Zeppelin playing. The girdle is hurting me but I stay straight, trying to look casual.

The two men's eyes widen and I have no idea how I am supposed to understand their look but I try not to think of it. I give them a shy smile, like I was begging them not to judge. I was waiting for a comment or anything, but they just stay totally silent.

In the car I don't know how to sit, I always put my feet on the seat but there is no way I can do that now, so I just stay there, held upright by this awful prison compressing my ribs and stomach.

Dean checks on me on the rear-view mirror, his face totally neutral, like he was hiding whatever he is thinking... A few months ago, I would have made fun of him, I would have asked him what was wrong with me, I would have told him to look at the road -I always did that when I caught him staring at me in the mirror-, but now, I just look down.

Being sexy is also feeling sexy, the woman on the video said. I'm not really the kind of woman that feels sexy, but I could try. The problem is, each time I try to focus on sexy things to make this work, I end up thinking of Dean, of when his beautiful hands land on me, of his smell and his shoulders, of his mouth... And in the end, I'm felling more horny than sexy. I guess not wearing panties is kind of sexy...

***

The bar is not too crowded but loud, the sound of pool balls shocking on each others, and the manly laughs of men drinking alcohol. Tugging at my dress, I look around to see if any girl could catch Dean's attention : maybe that girl at the bar, but she seems to be with a man. People are looking at me, I'm not used to it, I feel like my lack of underwear is written on my face.

When he passes behind me, Dean puts a hand on my back, sending a shiver all along my spine. He always does that, but I'm usually wearing real clothes.

"What do you want to drink sweetheart ?" he says and I hesitate.

Alcohol is caloric, I can't really afford to drink it. After a long hesitation, I decide a whiskey would make me forget all those eyes on me.

Taking the first sip of the amber liquid, I close my eyes. This taste reminds me of some good memories when Dean and I stayed in the kitchen to talk, slowly sipping and smiling at each other.

"Pool ?" Sam asks pointing the other side of the bar with his beer bottle.

"Yeah I don't know" Dean looks down, making me wonder... He always loved pool.

"Come on Dean !" I smile raising up, the evening is supposed to be about saving my friendship with him.

He frowns like something was hurting him, his beautiful mouth forming a pout, his dark green eyes searching my face. I can't read him. He doesn't look at me like he always did, but not like he looks at those girls either. My smile fades and the air becomes thick.

He gets up slowly and brushes past me when he walks to the pool.

"Okay, but you stay with me" he grunts.

I follow him and notice eyes are moving with me. I know what's happening : I must be embarrassing him, that’s why he acts weird. I swallow hard and watch him take cues, the muscles of his jaw are clenched.

"So Y/n... This dress..." Sam whispers close to my ear. "Is it just to make Dean mad or is there a guy you want to go home with ?"

My heart stops.

"Dean ?" I just say searching his eyes, but he laughs. "Why..."

I can't finish my sentence because Dean gets close to me to give me the cue he prepared. His handsome face still pretty stern, he offers me to start.

The air is still thick and Sam's words turn in my head, bouncing in every directions, banging in my head like a lost bat. What does that even mean ? Dean must be disappointed in me, maybe little a big brother wouldn't want to see his sister wear a slutty dress... Maybe what he meant was that, as Dean wanted a friendship night, dressing like I'm waiting to leave them for a one-night stand is annoying. I don’t know who I am anymore, or how I am supposed to behave.

"Y/n..." Dean calls me from the other side of the pool. "You never lose at this game, even against me... Are you okay ?"

"Yes I..."

Pretty girls don't win against the man they want, they make them feel strong and all those bullshit that polluted my brain. I'm distracted and I have no idea what to think again. Right now, I just dream of becoming the old me again, slap his ass when I win just to mock him, make him pout, drink like him, swear and get rid of that awful pain on my ribs.

"I just need another drink" I finally chose to answer. "Whiskey ?"

He nods in a frown and I leave toward the bar.

When I order a drink, this time, the bartender looks at me, and even if it's not the same place and the same man, I can't help but think it has something to do with how I look tonight.

"There sweetheart" he smiles and I shiver at the nickname I only heard from Dean's mouth. "Tell me... Those guys ?" he points his chin to Sam and Dean.

"What ?" I glower, completely forgetting the have-a-flirty-smile-all-the-fucking-time rule.

"You know… are you with one of them ?" he says with an actually kind corner smile.

"No" I state and his grin spread to his whole mouth.

He is cute, dimples on his soft face, dark caramel-colored skin, warm black eyes highlighted by thick black curled lashes. And the softness on his features finally make me give him back a smile.

"Good because I couldn't fight any of them" he chuckles with a hint of shyness.

I chortle lightly at how right he is without knowing it. I search his face; he seems sincere and kind, there is something calming about him, no violence, no pretention.

"Hi" a man appears behind me. "Can I buy you a drink ?"

I turn to him, confused, and see in the corner of my eyes that the bartender is looking down.

"No" I smile. "Thank you but I already have a drink."

The man sighs and leaves, muttering something that I probably would hate to hear ; and a few months ago I would have made him repeat.

"Daryll" the bartender says.

"Y/n" I state.

"Let me offer you this drink..." his charming dimples appear again. "It's rare enough to see a beautiful young woman ordering whiskey.”

For the first time in a very long time, I could actually picture myself spending a night with that guy and just this feeling is already amazing : It’s like I was free, my heart belongs to Dean but, if he doesn’t want me, maybe I could at least lend my body to a kind man. I look down at my glass and forget that he hits on me just because of the dress for an instant. Daryll is really cute and smiling to him is not an effort.

"Are they your brothers or something ?" he asks, putting his arms crossed on the counter.

"No..." I turn and catch Dean's eyes but look down. "Friends."

"Oh..." he says with a pained look. "One of them is an ex or a crush ?"

I give him a sad smile, not knowing what to answer.

"Okay... Maybe you want me to leave you alone" he sighs but I shake my head, taking a sip of alcohol to swallow the lump in my throat.

“No” I give him a reassuring smile. “It’s not new… Don’t worry.”

But his eyes leave mine to look behind me with a strange expression, something weirdly close to submission.

"Y/n" Dean's voice calls me from behind and I freeze. "Can I just... Talk to you ?"

I take a deep painful breath and turn slowly to see him, his sweltering charisma emanating of him, and just like that, my calming feeling of being able to see myself kiss -or more- Daryll fades. Dean eclipsing the entire world.

"Talk ?" I raise my eyebrows.

He just nods so I glance at the cute bartender.

"I... I'll be back" I say with no joy and he gives me a polite but disappointed smile.

Dean starts to walk and I follow, looking at his shoulders, afraid of the discussion coming. He doesn't stop anywhere in the bar and leads me outside. It’s still warm ; I look up to see the stars shining behind the feeble lamppost light.

“Y/n” he turns around to face me, his bow legs lightly spread like he needed to be hitched to the floor. “What is that ?”

I can’t read his body language.

“What is what ?” I mutter, ready for reproaches.

“You know every man here is trying to find a plan to bring you home…” he grunts.

“Well each time you go somewhere, it’s the same…”

He crosses he arms looking up while he takes a deep inhale. An overwhelming urge to cry strangles me and I decide to leave, opening my purse, I start looking at my phone to call a cab and walk toward the side of the bar.

Dean grabs my arm firmly.

“Where are you going ?” he asks, still pretty stern.

“I just want to go home, De…”

But I can’t finish my sentence because he pushes me against the wall, both hands making sure my shoulder touches the concrete. And before I can register any of what’s happening, his lips meet mine.

Taking a deep inhale by his nose, he crushes those plumb lips made of dream on mine and my body reacts in a thousand ways. Pure electricity roam my skin and muscles, my heart seems to grow twice his size and his beatings fasten so hard my own blood is making me high ; every erogenous part of my body takes fire and a hot slick drips between my thighs instantly.

I don’t move but Dean cups my face and kisses my mouth again, gently taking my upper lip between his. Parting my lips slightly, I feel his tongue graze me. I close my eyes and let him kiss me, he bends his head on the side a little and invades my mouth like he could only breathe through me.

I could stay like this my whole life, completely lost in the perfect feeling of his face so close, in the taste of him… But he’s eager and his hands leave my cheeks to rub my shoulders and down my arms. I didn’t know my body could feel so intensely…

A moan escapes me and his lips leave my mouth suddenly, letting it wet and swollen, open and burning. His nose grazes my ear, sending shivers run all over me, and he starts leaving open mouth kisses along my throat.

By the time his hands reach my waist, I’m shaking. His fingers are like conquerors, winning every battle, pushing boundaries. They go down my ass and squeeze it strongly, crushing me to his own waist.

This is happening.

My inner walls clench at this thought and my head falls back, only held by the concrete. He goes lower, catching the hem of my dress, slowly pulling it up, his nails scratching the back of my thighs. Another moan.

When my dress is just under my intimacy, he harshly grabs my legs and carries me easily, encouraging me to wrap them around his waist. I do.

He doesn’t take us far, just turning on the side of the bar, where the light of the lamppost doesn’t go, pushing me against the wall, his hips eagerly crushing his erection against me. His lips claim me again and, when they do, my body finally allows me to move.

I grab his neck and scratch the back of his head, rolling my hips against him. That craving I endure since I know him finally about to be satisfied. He groans in my mouth.

“Fuck…” he bites my lip, his hips joining the movement of mine, and through the rough fabric of my dress and his jean, his hard length press on my sensible clit.

“Anh!” I cry out, clinging to him. “Oh… God” I inhale, the girdle blocking my lungs in a pain my brain just registers as pleasure, because each of my cell is illuminated with it for now.

“Y/n…” he whines, his teeth teasing my pulse point.

My hands dare going lower, slipping inside his collar to feel the intoxicating move of his upper back muscles. The circle movements of my hips makes my dress slip higher and when my folds come into contact directly with his crotch, sweat breaks through my skin.

“Oh fuck…” I moan, my hips starting to shake.

His hands grab my ass to rub me more against him and I can notice his fingers searching my panties.

��No panties Y/n…” he states in a growl, bending to bite the part of my boobs accessible on my cleavage. “You’re soaking my jeans sweetheart.”

I nod and tug at his hair to dig my tongue between his perfect lips again. His hand falls between us and scrape my inner thigh, at the closeness of his fingers, my walls clench again, like it was trying to catch him. His fingers finally reach my folds and slip between.

“Dean !” I cry out. “Dean… Dean… God… Dean !”

My legs are spread wide to cling to him, so when his thumb find my clit, his middle finger encounter no trouble to reach my entrance, caressing it and pushing on it.

“Pleeease…” escapes my lips in a wail and he smiles in the kiss.

Torturing me, his finger keeps pushing on my entrance without really entering me and I have never felt so empty. I’m pathetically trying to come closer, but that’s impossible.

The tip of his middle finger finally pushes inside me and my pussy flutters. His free hand come up to grab my hair, I gasp but he doesn’t hurt me, he just tugs firmly but slowly at it to have access to my throat. He sucks a hickey on the side of it, and I let him mark me like I was his. I am, really.

His strong finger enters me in one go, making me choke in ecstasy. He doesn’t wait and slips another, grunting when he pushes deep.

I have dreamed of Dean since forever, I have pushed my own fingers inside of me thinking of him… But nothing could have prepared me for this. I’m soaking his hand, nothing ever made me that wet ; and when he crushes his hips on me in a low moan, making his digits go deeper, I can’t help but come.

I’m silent, my lungs crushed by their prison, my blood burning in my head and cleavage. Gasping for air, I feel my walls crush him and electricity shocks my whole body.

A deep growl vibrates inside him. He takes his hand off of me a little too fast and I hiss. His trembling hand attacks his belt but it's too slippery so he changes hand, putting the wet one on the wall behind me, and the other between us to free is aching cock.

When he pushes his clothes down a bit, I can’t help but look down, biting my lips. Here it is, what I crave inside of me all the time, precum nonchalantly dripping of it, red and swollen. Beautiful.

“Dean… Take me” I plead.

“Yes” he groans. “Yes…” he repeats for himself.

He lines his length with my entrance and I can’t help but moan and pant, still looking down to see his length disappear slowly inside me. When he pushes in, it’s harsh and faster than I had anticipated. A sharp pained pleasure makes me cry out loud.

The hand on the wall finds my mouth and crushes on it to silence me. In the deep inhale I take through my nose, I can smell myself.

He’s big. For a second my heart panics, like I couldn’t take him, but my walls flutter and while he doesn’t move, I have time to adjust to him.

“Are you okay ?” he pants in my ear, tickling me with his breath.

I nod despite his strong hand holding my face.

He doesn’t wait longer, withdrawing almost completely before he powerfully pushes in again, making my eyes roll in my skull. A loud scream is muffled by his large palm taking half my face.

“Fuck… Y/n… How can you be so…” but he doesn’t finish his sentence.

Grunting like a wild beast, he starts thrusting in me like he had waited for it as much as me. His powerful body carrying me like I weighted nothing. My ribs hurt but I don’t care at all because it can almost feel his cock between them. It’s like he was everywhere.

I love you, I think loud. Just because I’m used to say that when I think of him.

“Y/n…” he moans, and the hand on my face becomes so strong I think it could bruise my jaw.

I can feel his own pleasure, the sweat on his forehead, the shakes on his chest, the pleas in his groans, and the throbs of his cock deep inside of me. I grab his ass, slipping my hand inside his jeans to dig my nails in it, encouraging him to take me harder, even if I don’t know if I can take harder, simply because I never had it.

When his thrusts turn to hard beats of his hips, I scream in his hand and my toes curl in my shoes.

“Fuck ! F-Fuck ! Fff…” his voice is intoxicating.

Fireworks explode everywhere in my body and I’m quite sure this is an orgasm until the real thing strikes like a lightning.

My stomach contracts like I had a cramp and my thighs squeeze him stronger than I thought possible, my walls milk him and my head is spinning. I have never felt a pleasure so intense and tears soak my face.

“Oh G-G-GOD !” he cries out like he hadn’t anticipated the intensity of my orgasm at all.

He stills deep inside of me and empties himself in a wail, grabbing my jaw brutally and clumsily to crush his lips on mine. His hips start to thrust lazily after he had stilled totally and his behavior changes. He wipes my tears, gently kisses my cheeks and rubs my neck like he was trying to erase the marks his body roughly let on me.

My brain starts to register what’s happening and I look at him, amazed by his beauty and the feeling of him. I didn’t think it would be possible to love him more…

But, when I can’t help but smile to him, the look on his face hits me like a hundred punches in the guts.

He already fucking regrets.

No flirty smile. Not even a kiss.

Regret.

What was I thinking ?

After Heaven, it’s like I was thrown in Hell. I push on his lower stomach to make him withdraw, and he does, my feet reach the floor again. Not looking at me, he puts his now soft cock back in his pants, closing his belt in a disapproving shake of his head.

I bite the inside of my cheek so hard I can taste blood in my mouth. The world is spinning. His cum is dripping out of me, along my thighs and I look down to see it. Grabbing my purse on the floor, I take a tissue from it and wipe my thighs, an intense feeling of shame making me nauseous.

He watches me struggle with it and offers me to take the tissue to throw it away with a movement of his hand. I’m so stupidly in love with him, I have the paranoid feeling he just wants to take that back from me… I give him the tissue and he wipes his thumb when cum reaches his skin.

“Are you okay ?” he asks, like I could be.

I nod looking down, tugging at my dress to hide this body I now definitely hate.

“I didn’t hurt you sweetheart ?” he insists.

“No Dean…” I find my voice.

“Good” he states with that serious low voice of him.

“I want to go home” I say faking a casual tone.

“Sure” he nods. “Let me get Sam and your jacket…”

He gets closer and puts one of those usual friendly kisses on my temple.

I did it. I made Dean want me. But this victory just really doesn’t feel like one…

(To be continued...)

__________________________

***Feedback is Gold***

Forever Tags : @parinarain @animegirlgeeky @mogaruke @masterof-agony @rainflowermoon @tftumblin @deans-baby-momma @roonyxx @thefaithfulwriter @vicariouslythruspn @emeow1496@daryldixonandfrogs @holylulusworld @cocklesbelli @sandlee44 @mogaruke @screenchingartisancashbailiff @donnaintx @hawaiianohana31 @akshi8278 @magssteenkamp @sister-winchesters99 @neii3n @alanegaming @im-a-shrub @sadwaywardkid @hopelesslydevotedtoyou1912 @slyqueenj @i-love-superhero @waywardsisterandpie

Tags are open (Some tags don’t work even if I tried everything, I’m sorry)

#supernatural #SPN #spn fic #spn fanfic #SPNFamily #dean winchester #Supernatural Dean Winchester #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x yn #dean x reader #Smut #angst #jay-and-dean

1K notes · View notes

blueluneacy · 5 years

Note

Hello!! I’d like to request “Don’t ever fucking forget that you’re mine.” with TA Jotaro( I didn’t know I needed him as a TA until I came across your blog and now I’m hooked 🥵). Thanks and have an amazing day!

I combined these two, I hope you don’t mind. In my defense, this got to over 2k words, so maybe that makes up for it, haha. Anyways, yeah, TA Jotaro is for those who like older men but aren’t looking for the commitment of being Jolyne’s step parent, and that’s the tea. Also, yandere because that’s all I’ve been writing with these requests. This is sort of a follow up from my last TA Jotaro from the other prompt list. Hope you guys enjoy it!Warnings are: not sfw, slight breathplay, yandere, dubcon, possessive behaviors

Maybe trying to switch your section wasn’t the best idea, but you couldn’t help it. He just freaked you out too much with his confession last time, you shuddered at the thought of having to enter that lab room again to see his smug face. So, you went to your Academic Advisor, begging for some way to change lab sections. You might see Jotaro in lecture, but there was nothing he could do there, nothing to point you out.

“But I don’t understand. You seem to be doing fine in the class, and you’re halfway through the semester. What exactly is the problem?” Your advisor asked you, and you shifted in your seat. God, this was uncomfortable.

“I… Don’t get along with my lab partner.” It was a simple lie, you thought, but your advisor wasn’t impressed. They leaned closer.

“Can’t you talk to the TA or the professor to change it? Or are you trying to file a harassment complaint?” They asked, and you immediately went into panic mode. The last thing you wanted was to see your friend get into trouble. You had considered filing something against Jotaro, but you mulled it over and decided that absolutely no one would believe you. After all, you were some lowly biology student with an average grade and Jotaro was a straight A student in the doctorate program. Sure, he was rough and kept to himself, but if anything, that would make your complaint even more unbelievable. Not to mention, you feared what he might do if he found out about your complaint…

“N-No, he’s fine, I just… Really want to switch, okay? P-Please, I’ll take anything!” You pleaded, and your advisor just sighed.

“Well, with your schedule, we can put you in another lab section at the same time just across the hall, but that’s all I can do for you.” They told you, and you swallowed. What if Jotaro caught you going into that lab? What would you do?“I… Is there really no way we can move something else around to-” You tried to tell your advisor, but they cut you off.

“Look, you clearly have something going on you don’t want to talk about. I’ll move you to another lab if you want, just this once. I’m not supposed to do this without a formal complaint.” They told you, and you relented, nodding a bit.

“Alright, I’ll change your schedule and email your teacher. It’ll take a bit to go through, so you’ll have to go to your old lab one more time. If you want this canceled, you’ll have to come to me by Friday.” She told you, and you gasped. Just one more lab, and you could be free, or at least, less anxious. It wasn’t the best, but it would make you feel better about going to class. If only you had realized that the email to your professor would be forwarded to the person you were trying to avoid.

You got to lab the next day, and it seemed to go off without a hitch. Jotaro didn’t even speak to you at all. You got your lab data easiest, even sitting and doing the questions in your handbook after you finished collecting your data.

“Hey, (y/n). I’m really sorry, but I’m running late for a meeting. I didn’t realize this lab would take so long, could you please clean up for me?” You turned to see you lab partner, practically in a begging stance. You looked around to see about 70 percent of the class still here. Ah well, it was still safe enough.

“Yeah, sure thing! Go ahead, I’ll be done here soon!” You told him, and he sighed in relief. So, you were left alone. You moved to cleaning and sat back down with your questions, thinking they wouldn’t take that long. They really didn’t, in a way. You just underestimated how long everyone else would take. You had fallen into a focused trance, not even realizing how quickly the class was becoming empty.

“Hey. (y/n).” You looked over to your TA, only to see you two were alone. You swallowed, grabbing your book bag and throwing your stuff in. Maybe if you booked it, you could get away from whatever horrible confrontation you were about to endure.

“Hey. Don’t be like that, come and sit down.” Jotaro told you, his voice forceful. You swallowed, moving over to his desk with shaky steps. You sat down, but Jotaro didn’t even bother with any sort of pleasantries, standing over you as he immediately went to what was bothering him.

“I got forwarded a certain email from your Academic Advisor.” You felt your blood turn cold. God, why didn’t you think of that? You should’ve just scheduled a makeup lab, but then you would have to deal with Jotaro again, and you couldn’t help but start shaking.

“I-I… Jotaro, I just… T-This isn’t professional-” You tried to find some sort of excuse, but Jotaro just scoffed, leaning in closer. He bent down to get closer to your eye level, leaving you to just sink in your chair as he got closer.

“Funny to think I would allow you out of my sight.” Jotaro just told you matter of factly, and you opened your mouth to try and say something, anything in return, only for Jotaro to lean in and kiss you roughly, shoving his tongue into your mouth and leaving you whimpering. You squirmed slightly, only Jotaro to scoop you just from that chair, turning and pinning you again his desk. He pulled away, moving to leave bites and bruises on your neck.

“J-Jotaro, please…” You whimpered, and you heard a rumble from his chest as he squeezed your hips, starting to grind against you. You gasped slightly, squirming a bit more.

“That’s it… I’ll make you feel so good, you’ll forget about this little escape plan you’ve got going through your head.” He told you, reaching under your shirt to play with your nipple. You whined a bit and squirmed, trying to get out of Jotaro’s hold. Your head felt foggy as you battled between wanting to escape and wanting more. You couldn’t deny the simple pleasure being under Jotaro gave you, and you felt all the more ashamed for it. You felt yourself relaxing slightly under Jotaro’s touch, causing a small smirk to cross his face.

“Do you like that? Do you like when tease you like this?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. You whimpered and looked away, hoping to hide some of your shame. Jotaro growled and pulled on your nipple, causing you to let out a small, high pitched squeak.

“Answer me when I ask you a question.” He warned you, and you were ready to babble out anything just to avoid whatever awful things Jotaro was considering.

“Y-Yes, I… I like it Jotaro…” You whimpered, and he just smiled, pushing up against you. You could feel his erection straining through his pants, and you just swallowed. “Good… So tell me, why did you want to leave?” He asked, pressing small kisses against your jawline.“Why would you want to give up what made you feel good?” His wandering hand left your chest and traveled lower, tugging at the hem of your pants. He wanted a reply, you could tell. But formulating a response was proving to be difficult.

“I… I um… I just thought that… That since you’re my teacher, I…” You mumbled, trailing off. Luckily, Jotaro seemed to get the hint.

“You didn’t want the trouble of teacher student relations?” He asked, and you nodded quickly. It wasn’t exactly the truth, but who cared. It might get Jotaro off you, even. He sighed and pulled away slightly, looking over your shaking form with those cold blue eyes. It was like the cold indifference in them never left, even when he claimed he loved you. Maybe it was all a game to him. You couldn’t really be sure.

“Probably the smart thing to do, in reality. It would save a lot of strife.” He told you, and you immediately perked up. God, this was working? Thank god.

“Y-Yes, exactly! Oh, Jotaro, thank you for understanding, I thought that you would be mad, I’m so glad-” You were cut off by Jotaro grabbing your throat, and you squeaked, immediately clawing at his hand. He wasn’t squeezing you tight or blocking your airway, but it was a definite warning. If you know what’s good for you, Shut. Up.

“Mad? Oh, I’m fucking furious, darling. To go behind my back like that…” He squeezed slightly, and you just gasped, looking up at Jotaro with wide eyes. For a moment, you were nervous for your life. A few tears fell from your eyes, and he paused for a moment, letting go of your neck to wipe away your tears with his thumb.

“Well… You didn’t know any better. I’ll have to teach you to know better.” Jotaro told you simply, and before you could even ask what he meant by that, he was pulling at your zipper, trying to remove your pants. You squeaked and squirmed a bit, Jotaro letting out a small growl.

“Fucking hold still. I’m trying not to rip them. Or do you want to walk back to your dorm exposed?” He asked, and you gulped, trying to slow your squirming. Nothing you did was going to stop Jotaro now. You gasped as he finally got your pants off, haphazardly throwing them to the side. You gasped at the cold of the lab room you could now feel on your legs and tried to curl up, embarrassed by how exposed you were. Jotaro just let out a hum, spreading your legs gently. You looked up at him and let out a small mewl as Jotaro started to feel you through your underwear. As shameful as it was, it was hard to hide that you were just as turned on by this whole affair. You made a note to see a counselor later to examine where the hell this was coming from. Either way, Jotaro seemed pleased with your reaction, toying with you as you moaned and mewled at his touch.

“Hm. Seems that you’re just as ready as I am.” He told you, letting go of you only to move to his own trousers, pulling them off easily. When it came to his underwear, well. You gasped when you saw him, swallowing a bit. He was huge, and you felt yourself pulling away slightly as Jotaro pumped himself a few times, groaning slightly.

“J-Jotaro, I don’t think it’ll fit…” You told him, and he just sighed, pulling you closer and spreading your legs as wide as they would go.

“Fuck, we’ll make sure it fits, don’t worry.” Jotaro said, lining up with your entrance and grabbing onto you tight, leaning against you as he slowly pushed himself inside of you. You cried out at the sting of the stretch, still squirming a bit.

“Fuck… You’re so tight…” Jotaro groaned. His body begged him to pound into you, but he kept still, trying to let you get used to him inside of you. You whined slightly, taking deep breaths as the sting slowly faded away, leaving you feeling full. You never realized how empty you felt inside until Jotaro filled you up, nor did you expect the pleasure to seep into you when he started to gently rock his hips.

“Is this okay?” He asked, and you looked up at Jotaro not to see coldness, but such eyes of adoration. You gasped, feeling the heat in your belly start to coil.

“Y-Yes, it feels good…” You replied. Why were you admitting it? That could only bring you more strife later, and yet, you didn’t care much about that now, only moaning out as Jotaro started to speed up his thrusts into you.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing around me… And you were trying to run away from this?” He asked, giving a particularly hard thrust into you, leaving you to moan loudly. He chuckled slightly, keeping up the rough thrusts.

“That’s it. Moan for me, tell me exactly how I make you feel.” Jotaro growled, leaning in to mark up your neck, and you wrapped your arms around him to try and pull him closer.

“F-Feels so good, Jotaro! P-Please, fill me up! Fuck me, please!” You cried out, clawing at Jotaro as you squeezed around him, trying to milk his cock of all you could. Jotaro actually gasped at that, grabbing your hips tighter and pounding into you as hard as you could. You only moaned, feeling your own release approaching as Jotaro fucked you in earnest. You felt a hand move to your chest, playing with you again, and you just groaned, all you could think about was how good it all felt.

“J… Jotaro… I’m close, I’m sooo close, please…” You gasped out, your voice like a little squeak under a wave of Jotaro’s growl and grunts. He still somehow heard you, and actually… Slowed down? You whined and squirmed, already questioning why on earth he would stop and even more, begging for him to continue. But, he just hushed you, thinking for a moment.

“Now then, is it too late for you to come back to my class, or will you be across the hall?” He asked, almost bored, and you just gasped.

“W-Why does it matter? I thought that it would be safer if I wasn’t your student…” You told him, still squirming slightly, but Jotaro grabbed you tightly, keeping you still.

“You’re not leaving my class. Understand? Now, is there time to fix this?” He asked, and you whimpered a bit.

“Y-Yes… They said it would be confirmed over the weekend… I had to go by Friday if I wanted it changed…” You told him, shaking again.

“Wonderful, so…” He leaned in close to your ear, his voice husky as he spoke to you. “You’ll have it fixed later. Right?” He asked, and you would’ve thought his voice so innocent in his request if the grip on your hips didn’t tighten the way they did. You gulped. Even if it was a lie, it would be impossible to say no to him in this situation. You looked away, not wanting to look him in the eye while you said it.

“… Yes Jotaro. I’ll talk to them later and have it fixed…” You mumbled, but it was enough for Jotaro, who just took the signal to pound into you like before, leaving you surprised but your body oh so please. It didn’t take long for Jotaro to build you up to the point you were at before, and you just cried out and moaned.

“Ah, Jotaro, please! Please, let me cum, please!” You begged, and Jotaro groaned, nearing his own metaphorical edge at your words.

“Fuck, do it, baby. Cum for me. God, you’re all mine. Don’t ever fucking forget that you’re mine.” He growled, and you just babbled out in reply, not even listening to the words that were coming out of your mouth.

“Yes, Jotaro, all yours! Only yours! F-Fuck, Jotaro-” You cried out, finally feeling that wave of absolute euphoria have over you as you cried out Jotaro’s name. Jotaro kept fucking you all the while, his thrusts becoming sloppy until he finally came as well, releasing deep inside of you. You could barely make out what he was saying all the while.

“Mine, mine, mine, mine, fuck, mine…” He groaned, both of you collapsing slightly after the deed was done. The only noise in the room was your panting and a sloppy kiss Jotaro gave you, which you gratefully returned. When he finally pulled out, you could feel his cum slip out slightly and you shuddered, the emptiness feeling all that much more lonely.

“Let’s get you cleaned up before I take you over there.” Jotaro told you, pulling his own clothing back on. You were still a bit too hazy to quite understand what he meant, looking over at him with half lidded eyes. Really, what you’d like most is to sleep.“Where are we going?” You asked in such a cute breathy tone, and Jotaro could swear he just fell in love with you all over again, not that he’d show it.

“To your advisor. We need to get your mistake fixed.” He told you, and you just gasped.

“Can’t we do it later? I’m sleepy…” You complained slightly, knowing damn well you wouldn’t be able to walk straight after the pounding Jotaro gave you, but he just sighed, shaking his head.

“Good grief. Don’t you listen? I already told you.” He leaned in close, giving you a kiss on your forehead that felt like the same cold Jotaro always radiated.

“I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

#jjba imagines #jjba x reader #jjba/reader #jotaro kujo x reader #jotaro kujo/reader #jotaro x reader #jotaro/reader #my writing #mine #writing #yandere x reader #yandere/reader #not sfw #Anonymous

1K notes · View notes

scarlettwitcher · 4 years

Text

Baby Girl Chapter Four

Summary: Y/n tried to avoid her past with a certain Statesmen but when they’re partnered back up for a mission that could cost millions their lives, Y/n must make the right choice. (This is the Kingsman: The Golden Circle movie basically in writing with reader insert. I recommend watching the movie, it’s amazing! It’s on Amazon Prime Video.)

Characters: Agent Whiskey x Agent Gin(Female Reader), Tequila, Ginger Ale, Eggsy, Merlin, Champ, Harry, mentions of Poppy, Charlie, and Clara

Word Count: 3,306

Warnings: angst, canon typical violence, fluff, cursing, really bad insults

Author’s Note: We are now halfway through this series ladies, gentlemen, and my nonbinary friends. Taglists will be updated soon so if you would like to be tagged for Forevers, Dean Winchester, Marvel, Henry Cavill, or Pedro Pascal, please let me know! REQUESTS ARE OPEN! As always, thank you for reading and feedback is always welcome/needed.

Previously..

You were exhausted after the many sessions you both had and you were asleep, tucked into Whiskey's side. His arm was wrapped protectively around you, holding you tightly against him. You didn't expect this side to him but you loved it. You slowly stirred in your quiet slumber, knowing you had to return to the agency to prepare for anything to appear for the mission. You felt a heavyweight against your hip and you smiled, remembering everything from the night before. You never expected things to go this way but you were happy. You turned in his hold for a little, and watched him sleep. He looked so peaceful, like all the worries that weighed heavy on his shoulders were gone. You loved seeing him like this and you silently vowed to yourself to try and help him feel like that more often. You leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on his lips before deciding to get up for the day. It was going to be a long day and you felt it in your bones.

Now..

Slowly pushing Whiskey's arm off of you, you stood, stretching and wincing. There was a dull ache between your legs and you willed it away. He had gone rough on you, taking you several times, barely any time to breath. He had missed you just as much as you missed him and he showed just how desperate he was for you. You didn't think a man of his age would have that much stamina. You knew there was a huge age gap between the two of you. Big enough to where you could pass as his daughter. But the two of you didn't care. You loved each other and that was enough. Walking over to the mirror to rub any makeup smears away, you stared at your body, seeing all of the bruises, hickeys, and bite marks Whiskey had left on your skin. Ginger was definitely going to give you shit for returning to the agency like this. It didn't help that the bastard left them on every surface that couldn't be covered by your outfit.

You changed quickly, slipping on your shorts and simple black tank top back on. You found your cowboy boots, sitting on the edge of the bed to put them on. As you pulled the first one onto your foot, you felt a thick arm wrap around your torso, your shoulder being kissed delicately. "Morning baby girl." You hummed as his deep voice was rougher from just waking up.

"Morning baby."

"What time is it?" You slipped on your other boot, standing up and turning to face your lover as he sat there sleepily.

"It's 9:30. We should catch up with Eggsy and head back before Champ has our heads." Whiskey nodded as he kissed the back of your head before getting up, walking around in his naked glory. You couldn't help but stare at him. Even though you spent the night making love to him, seeing him still brought a deep blush to your face. He noticed this and smirked, walking over to pull you into his arms as he kissed you roughly.

"Still can't get enough of you." You laughed and pushed him back, trying to put a stern face.

"Stop it. If you keep touching me, we'll never leave this tent." Whiskey chuckled as he shook his head, collecting his clothes that were tossed all around.

"Who said I wanted to leave when I can have you all to myself?" You bit your lip and you looked at him as he slipped his jeans on, not buttoning them yet, leaving them hanging low on his hips. He knew you were watching him and he thrived under your stare.

"Soon Jack. This mission will be over and we can have some time to… catch up." Whiskey raised an eyebrow and smirked as he finished getting dressed. You bent down, collecting the rest of your things as Whiskey moved quick, slapping your ass. You squeaked out at the sudden contact, glaring at him. Truth be told, you loved when he spanked you but if he kept teasing you, you really weren't going to leave anytime soon.

Whiskey behaved himself as you finished getting ready, and you met up with Eggsy at the jet. He gave you a curious look as he stared at your skin. Eggsy wasn't going to question how you got those, Whiskey's smug smile was enough of an indicator. Whiskey smiled cockily, the smug bastard knowing exactly what he did. He laid his claim on you. You flew back to Kentucky and met up with Ginger in her lab. She showed you how the tracker was online and updated you on Tequila's condition. "So, Gin are you going to tell me what happened at Glastonbury?"

You rubbed the back of your neck before clearing your throat. "I talked to Whiskey and he, uh, well, we caught up." Ginger looked at you concerned but she saw the way your eyes lit up when you talked about Whiskey. She had watched you suffer and she didn't want you to fall down the same hole you did. You placed your hand on her shoulder and you smiled genuinely. "He said he loved me Ginge... You and I both know he wouldn't ever say it unless he meant it."

Ginger smiled softly, placing her hand on top of yours in reassurance. "Just be careful Gin."

"I will." You placed a soft kiss on her cheek before walking off towards your sleeping quarters, knowing a restless Whiskey was waiting for you. A few days after arriving, news of the lepidopterist regaining his memory circled around the agency. Eggsy and Merlin were ecstatic, circling the poor man as he came to. You didn't blame them. They had lost everyone and the fact that they had their friend back was good news. You had bonded with the brit during his stay. He taught you many things about butterflies and sometimes when you needed a silent company, you would visit his room and sit with him as he studied his butterflies. Now that he regained his memories, the boys wanted to catch him up.

The five of you decided to go out for a drink, driving down to the closest bar near the agency. You all slid into one booth, Whiskey, you, and Harry on one side and Eggsy and Merlin on the other. Whiskey was taking a sip of his drink as he moved his hand on your thigh just as Eggsy finished catching Harry up. “Now that we've finished the debrief, Harry… Here's a couple of welcome back gifts. First up… a brand-new Kingsman watch. Advanced software, it can hack into anything with a microchip. It is bollocks.” Eggsy held up a fancy looking watch, handing it over to Harry as he looked at it a bit amused, slipping it on. And Merlin…”

“I made you these.” Merlin placed a glasses case on the table in front of Harry and smiled, as he watched him grab it. Harry opened the case and let out a soft ‘ha’ as he looked down at the glasses. He placed the case down, pulling off his eyepatch leaving the air thick. Eggsy swallowed thickly as he tried to meet Harry’s eyes but was having a hard time, sharing a look of concern with Merlin. You tried to act casual as you leaned further into Whiskey, seeking his warmth. He responded automatically, wrapping his arm around you and placing a kiss on your head.

Harry placed the glasses and looked around the table. “Thank you, Merlin, Eggsy. How do I look?”

“You look…” Eggsy held up the ‘OK’ sign with his fingers as Merlin was going to compliment him but your peace was interrupted.

“Like some faggot lookin' for an eye fuckin'. Now… why don't you get out of our bar...before I take out your other one?” Everyone looked up at Moonshine with disdain. You, however, looked up in confusion. You had never seen him behave so crass. Moonshine was a fellow agent who didn’t take well to outside visitors, especially other agents.

“Now, is that any way to welcome visitors from out of town, Moonshine?” You cleared your throat as his eyes landed on you, unashamedly checking you out. Everyone at the table noticed the way he was eyeing you, including an irritated Whiskey. He stiffened next to you and you laid your hand on his thigh, calming him a bit. Moonshine chuckled before focusing his attention back on Harry.

“Okay. Suck my southern dick...bitch.”

Harry looked completely taken back as he murmured back respectfully. “Oh, I don't think that'll be necessary. Good day, sir.” Harry grabbed his umbrella and slowly stood, walking past Moonshine towards the entrance of the bar.

“Well? What are you ladies waitin' for?” You glared Moonshine down as you were about to retort but Harry’s voice echoed throughout the room.

“Manners…” Harry started to handle every lock on the door with every word. “Maketh…” You raised an eyebrow in his direction, having a feeling of where this was going and you didn’t think it was a good idea. ”Man. Do you know what that means?” Most of the men at the bar had stood, standing defensively with Moonshine. Harry stared them down from a reflective frame on the wall. “Then let me teach you a lesson.” Everything happened so quick from Harry grabbing the glass cup with his umbrella to unsuccessfully throwing it at Moonshine. The cup flew past his head straight towards you. Whiskey was quick and caught the cup before it hit you. You looked at the cup, to Whiskey, and then to Eggsy and Merlin in concern. You looked back at Harry seeing him a bit disoriented. Whiskey gave Harry an irritated glance at the fact that he almost hurt you.

“Harry, sugar, maybe you shouldn’t-”

Harry ignored you as he was focused on the men. “Are we going to stand around here all day? Or are we going to-” Before Harry could finish talking, one of the men lunged for him, punching him in the face. Harry went flying into the bar, trying to catch his bearings. Whiskey rubbed his lip with his thumb and watched as the men started to fight with Harry. He was successful in landing a couple of blows into a few but he was easily getting overpowered and losing. One of the men used Harry’s umbrella against him, landing heavy blows to his face. Whiskey had slipped out of the booth, quick using his lasso to pull out Harry from the fight. Harry landed next to the booth as Whiskey started to round up his lasso.

“Well, pick him up.” He motioned to Eggsy and Merlin. They were quick to grab Harry and help him into another booth. You stood up, next to Whiskey as he spoke. “Now, that is not what I call a Kentucky welcome.” You giggled quietly as the men stared at the both of you in confusion. You tipped your hat back just a bit, watching their confused stares turn into smirks at the sight of you. It made your blood boil. “Manners maketh man, ain’t that right baby?”

“Sure is, sugar. Thing is, I don’t think these men are smart enough to understand. We should translate it for ‘em.”

“You read my mind darlin.” One of the men had deemed you an easier target and he ran after you, screaming as he had his fist out but Whiskey was quicker and he threw his lasso at him, roping him, throwing him against the bar. Another man with a knife ran after Whiskey. He opened the loop of his lasso, jumping through as he tightened it around the man’s wrist, hitting the knife out of his hand with his elbow. He landed a punch before throwing his lasso to grab the flying knife. He caught it effortlessly and you laughed, watching him.

“Show off.” Whiskey laughed as he whipped his rope in the air with the knife, throwing it towards his next victim, the knife embedded itself into the man’s shoulder. He pulled the man with great force towards the bar. The man hit it hard and his cries of pain mixed in with the others.

“Only for you baby girl.” You ran towards Moonshine, using your small form to your advantage as he tried to punch you but you avoided every throw like it was second nature. Of course, in your case, it was. You jumped on a nearby table, using it as a force to throw you in Moonshine’s direction as you swing your leg, landing a brutal kick in his face. You landed swiftly on the floor, preparing for the next guy. Whiskey dropped his lasso, pulling out his whip. He lashed it against the floor, filling the room with the loud sounds of it cracking. You stood back and watched as he hit every man with the whip, the men screaming in pain. You bit your lip as you watched him, hating to admit this was turning you on more than it should. Whiskey noticed this and smirked as he took a second to flick the whip in your direction, hitting you in the ass. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt you but it definitely got your attention.

“H-hey!” Whiskey laughed as he wrapped the whip around one of the men’s necks.

“This one’s for you pretty lady.” Whiskey used a lot of his strength to fling the man towards you. You smiled widely as the man went flying towards you. You jumped in time to punch him in his chest, making him fall and smash his head against the pool table. Soon, you both found your rhythm. If a man came for Whiskey’s back, you’d swiftly cut in and punch the guy hard in his neck, watching as he fell to the floor, clutching his neck in pain as he tried to catch his breath. Whiskey did the same, protecting you from any unwanted harm. You were both ruthless. You were considered one of the best teams across the agencies. When you two paired up, it was almost impossible to break through.

You knew you couldn’t kill any of the men or else Champ would have your head. So you stuck to your fists and Whiskey to his whip. One of the men threw a chair at you but Whiskey was quick and grabbed it with his whip, throwing it back at the man, sending him flying through the window.

“That was hot.” Whiskey erupted into a loud laugh, his shoulders shaking violently as he tried to catch his breath. He pulled you in for a rough kiss before pulling back and looking around the room, the bodies of the unconscious men surrounding you.

“Whoo, I feel like a tornado in a trailer park.” You were about to retort but Poppy’s broadcasted message interrupted you. You watched in horror realizing that the effects that Tequila was having were because of Poppy’s horrible drugs. Once the message was over, you all drove back to the agency as fast as you could, meeting Champ in the main room. You listened to the President as he spoke about how he wanted to handle the situation, leaving you in shock.

“Fox, shut up. McCoy, declare Marshall Law. We need to keep control, commandeer stadiums, schools, civic centers. Order a press blackout and put the military on standby to round these junkies up.”

“Whether they broke the law or not, those victims are human beings. Tequila,” You watched as Champ looked over his alcohol before picking one, grabbing a glass. “He's a great guy. And a great agent. Right now, he's lying in deep-freeze waitin' on our help.” You swallowed thickly, staring at the table. You didn’t know what you’d do if Tequila passed away. He was one of your best friends. Whiskey noticed your tense nature and he took a deep breath, trying to lighten the situation for your sake but he didn’t go about it too well.

“We can't make this personal, sir.

“Personal? Agent, we can't stand by and let folks like him die. These people, we're their only hope. Now, we have to find that antidote.” Whiskey sighed as he looked up, noticing Harry analyzing him. He didn’t pay much attention to him, soon moving his focus back to you as he held your hand in his. You took a deep breath, pulling Whiskey’s hand onto your lap. He rubbed his thumbs against your soft skin, sending goosebumps across the surface.

Champ took a sip of his drink before turning and spitting it into a nearby tin. “Poppy's stockpiles, well, they could be anywhere.” Whiskey gripped your thigh in comfort as you watched Champ sympathetically. You knew he was battling with his own addiction and this was his way of dealing.

“She must have some on hand. Locate Poppy and obtain a sample for analysis. Maybe it can be replicated.” Eggsy and Harry exchanged glances of confusion as they watched Champ but they chose not to comment. You took a deep breath as you kept quiet. It wasn’t like you but your head was swirling with thoughts of the disease and of Tequila.

Soon, your thoughts were interrupted by Ginger’s voice echoing through the room. “Sorry to cut in, guys. But Charlie is on the phone with his girlfriend. Looping you in now.” She appeared on the large screen in the room with Merlin by her side before she changed the screen to display the soundwaves of Clara talking to Charlie and her location on the map.

“Don't worry. I'm on a payphone covered in a fucking blue rash. Why didn't you tell me? All you said was, "Don't take any drugs." It was a music festival for fuck's sake.” You rolled your eyes as you listened. You already didn’t like her from your last mission and this was just solidifying that dislike.

“Fuck. Shit. Shit! Okay. Listen. You need to get to the lab in Italy. Do you remember where we went skiing?”

“Yes. Yes, I remember.”

“Yeah. Meet me there and I'll give you the antidote.”

Clara’s deep sigh filled the room before she mumbled an okay, hanging the call right after

“All right. Jet's ready. Whiskey, Gin, Galahad, get to Italy.” You nodded your understanding and as you looked up, you saw both Eggsy and Harry standing up, looking at each other awkwardly. Eggsy smirked and you knew he wanted to laugh. You watched them both curiously as Whiskey spoke up.

“You two need to fix this code name thing.” He leaned over to Champ as he motioned towards Harry. “And with all due respect, sir… I don't think Galahad senior is ready to return to fieldwork.”

Champ nodded his agreement as he pointed towards Eggsy. “I did actually mean…”

“Of course.” You gave Harry a sympathetic smile and he returned a small smile in return. Even though he recovered his memories, he still remembered your kindness and trustiness for him. He remembered the things you told him about your life, the quiet evenings you spent together, the way you talked about the “man” who hurt you. It didn’t take a genius to figure out it was Whiskey you were talking about and he had his disagreements with you returning to his side but he chose not to say anything on it, respectfully leaving you to make your own decision.

“And with all disrespect… I'm not going anywhere without him.” Eggsy sat down next to Harry as he motioned towards him. Both Champ and Whiskey looked at Eggsy with different thoughts running around their heads. One thing you respected was Eggsy’s undying loyalty. You knew this was a hard trait to come by and with the way he was protective of you already on missions, you trusted him. “Brains,” He motioned to Harry before motioning to himself. “Skills,” He looked at you and winked as he motioned towards you. “Bad-assery.” You snorted as his comment brought a smile to your lips, giving you a bit of relief from the entire situation. Eggsy looked at Whiskey and took a second to think of what he wanted to say. “Skipping rope?”

Whiskey clenched his jaw as he stared Eggsy down, before moving his gaze to Champ who went into a deep laugh. You couldn’t contain your smile and you covered your mouth with your hand, hoping Whiskey didn’t hear your muted giggles. Whiskey glared at you as he spoke, his deep baritone voice sending shivers your way. You knew you were going to pay for laughing. “It's a lasso.’

“Whatever. Come on.” Eggsy stood, looking to Harry to follow him as Whiskey watched them both as Champ continued to laugh before dismissing the both of you.

“Go on. Vamoose.”

“Yes, sir.”

Forever Tags: @iwantthedean @authoressskr @sorenmarie87 @reigningqueenofwords @goldenolaf25 @giftofdreams @winchesterprincessbride @chelsea072498 @kitchenwitchsuperwhovian @itakeawfultoawholenewlevel @fictionalabyss @gabby913 @angelkurenai @sea040561 @sleepylunarwolf @smoothdogsgirl @carryonmyswansong @feelmyroarrrr @evyiione @sofreddie @sis-tafics @nitelotus @trexrambling @manawhaat @mermaidxatxheart @winchest09 @ellen-reincarnated1967 @mrswhozeewhatsis @just-another-busy-fangirl @lovebodymindstuff @backseat-of-deans-67chevy @chook007 @akshi8278 @evansrogerskitten @bringmesomepie56 @persephonehemingway @blacktithe7 @donnaintx @queenxxxsupreme @whitewolfandthefox @riviawitch3r

Agent Whiskey Tags: @thesadvampire @le-roman-rose @mcudisiac @someone-take-my-bagelseverywhere @chibi-liz05 @marvel-avengers01 @themandjalorian @floccodineveautunnale @jassiepoohbear @gollyderek @retrobhaddie @wolf-lover74 @paryl @laubeck10 @ithinkwehitametaphor @wizard-b1tch @domino-oh-damn @c-ly-g @rosamedina92 @sunshinepascal @ariespedro @libellule2001 @ohpedromypedro @two-unbeatable-beaters @menacingmandalorian @scribbledghost @blushingwueen

Tags I Think Would Be Interested: @spacegayofficial @ariasfandom @lannister-slings-and-arrows @sendhoots @stevieharrrr @dindjarindiaries @hiscyarika @qveenbvtch @forever-rogue @jimmythegirl @catfishingmorales @generaldamneron @cptnbvcks @swhiskeys @honeychicanawrites @thepascalorian @ladydahliawrites @roboboyjinx-writes @zeldasayer @damerondjarin @aint-that-a-mcfreakin-bitch @aerynwrites @mandadoration @absurdthirst @huliabitch @gryffindorwriter @ghostofthebarricade @astrolo-galaxy @siempre-pedro @cherryplasmids @spacedadheadcanons @madadlorian @sithlordmando @bubble-tea-bunny @beskarsexual @longitud-de-onda @archieimagines @outfatuating @inknopewetrust @softpedropascal @pascalisthepunkest @swimmingbyrd @buckyodinson @everstarry @waywardodysseys @paniclana @tiffdawg @siempre-pedro @fandom-imagines-stories @umbrellasandlassos @kingsmanstories @bucks-angels @the-real-xhorse

90 notes · View notes

mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years

Text

Treasure- Part 1

M/F Pairing: Y/N x Kim Hongjoong (Ateez)

Word Count: 3,565

Genre: Fantasy AU, Pirate AU

Warnings: Language, Violence, Some Smut, Mentions of Blood

Summary: For her entire life, Y/N has always been at the disposal of the men who treat her like she’s less than human. Her father was an alcoholic and her mother is unable to support the two of them after his death. Years later, Y/N feels stuck and there’s nothing worse than feeling trapped in your own home. However, after being kidnapped by a gang of ruthless pirates, Y/N finally gets her first chance of freedom and she very much likes the way it tastes even if that means playing with the heart of the notorious pirate captain whose affections become more and more obvious every day.

When I was younger, my mother told me stories about the ocean goddess Amphitrite whose husband, Poseideon, commanded the endless tides and waves. She was a jealous lover, envious of the women Posideon would often bed, resulting in demigod children which he treasured and kept safely hidden away from his wife’s thirst for vengeance. But children can only be controlled for as long as their curiosity remains sated, choosing the comfort of land instead of that deep-spirited desire to return to the water. Eventually, his demigod children could no longer resist the call and that’s when Amphitrite would rise from the deepest trenches, commanding the ocean to overhaul boats of brave sailors, thunderous power splitting the ships in half while the demigod children lose themselves to their father’s perilous domain.

But Posideon grew angry with Amphitrite’s actions, demanding that she leave his children alone or else she would be banished to the Underworld where his ruthless brother Hades prevailed. Bitter and disappointed, Amphitrite sought a new solution to the problem of her husband’s illicit affairs. Amphitrite decided to try her luck on land and she lived amongst the humans for many years. One day, while she was wandering a distant shore, Amphitrite fell in love with a gorgeous sailor whose long, silky hair and endless sea-green eyes commanded her deepest affections. The sailor, who never realized her true identity, also fell for the mysterious way he felt drawn to the woman who climbed aboard his ship. He promised that he would do anything to please Amphitrite and the clever goddess requested that the sailor track and kill the children of her unsuspecting husband. So, with a crew at hand, the love-struck sailor spent years at sea burning the ships of Poseidon’s demigod children, earning him the nickname of “Pirate” for his bloodthirsty crimes at the behest of Amphitrite....

“I think that’s enough for one night,” my mother would say, noticing the way my eyes grew wider despite the fact that I was meant to be sleeping.

“Are there pirates here?” I would often ask my mother once she was finished.

“They’re only stories, my dearest,” my mother would reply, holding me close at night while my gaze wandered the darkness, searching out the window with a mixture of fear and trepidation, wondering if a pirate would sneak through the window with blood dripping from his blade.

But that was my childhood and, as the years slowly passed away, those stories grew as distant as my memories, lost to the powerful effects of time. I grew as tall as my mother, discovering her features whenever I would look into a mirror. I also inherited her passion for storytelling and would often sit on the hills overlooking the brilliant sea imagining myself exploring the distant lands that the maps at school promised would hold all sorts of possibilities.

Sadly, my dreams of leaving the island became less and less of a possibility as the realities of life replaced the fantastical wanderings of my imagination. When my father eventually died and left me alone to deal with my despondent mother who could no longer take care of herself. She would usually sit in the living room throughout the day, looking out the window at nothing in particular. It was a miracle to hear her speak, and I knew that my mother had become nothing more than a shell of her former self. To take care of us, I was forced to leave school which only dampened my curiosity in the study of Astronomy and the brilliant stars that always inspired me when I was younger.

I would always miss my youth because now, at the tender age of 21, I had nothing left of the Spirit that once fueled my every hope and desire. I walked through each day dreading the possibility of another, watching everyone else around me move through their lives like the waves washing up on the beach, there at one instant and then gone the next. Leaving for a distant land in the small ships that frequently visited our small island. But nobody liked to stay forever because the human instinct to explore and conquer was present in every man and woman. Sadly, I’d never get the chance to satisfy mine.

Trapped here, like the fish brought in at high tide, to suffer through an endless cycle, wishing to escape to the stars because only then could I be truly free.

“You’re a little slut, aren’t you?” the heavy-set man groaned at my ear, thick hips pounding against mine with bruising power.

“I’ll be whatever you want,” I responded robotically, gazing at the ceiling and creating constellations out of the boards.

It was the same every night, depending on what sort of customers were drawn into the hostel. The owner, an older gentleman with greasy, balding hair, would accept payment for our services, setting aside a gold token or two if he was feeling generous towards his whores which only ever happened when the place was full. Our best customers were merchant ships full of drunk and horny sailors looking to forget about their unfortunate circumstances and stick their uncut cocks into whatever comfortable hole they could find.

“It’s good business,” the owner would croon, gathering us girls together around him. “My sluts make me good money.”

I would always hold my tongue at the term because, despite the fact that it was true, the connotation still struck a nerve, especially considering how my father had treated my mother. He would often come home at night completely wasted, slapping my mother like she meant absolutely nothing to him. Yelling obscenities while requesting that his slut get him something else to drink.

My father had passed away years ago, but my mother took his loss a lot more than I was expecting considering his treatment towards her. Her eyes lost the light I had cherished as a child, spending her days gazing out the window in my father’s old armchair while I was forced to find work. And those young girls like me who were unable to stay in school on the island could always find work at a whorehouse, selling her body for enough money to buy food and pay rent. That’s all that mattered to me for survival, but it still didn’t satisfy my wildest imaginations, dreaming of escaping to a place far away from this horrible island.

My client for the evening let out a deep-throated moan, cumming inside and I winced when I felt him lean down to kiss my forehead, the gesture far too intimate for my comfort. “I’d buy you again a heartbeat,” he told me sincerely while I impatiently waited for my shift to finally end.

I was usually a lot stricter about the type of contact I allowed. However, these days, I usually endured far more than I used to back when I was still new to the services required of me. Skittish around the older men touching my body or afraid to even ask the other girls for advice. I’m sure some of those clients took advantage of my innocence, but that had since worn off and I was nothing if not completely stoic when it came time to satisfy another customer.

I was still often ignored by the other girls, especially since men usually preferred me because of my younger age. There was only so much that makeup could hide before the body itself bore its secrets in the wrinkles creasing one’s forehead or the bulging veins in a girl’s thighs and arms. My body was still soft, enjoying the effects of youth before those looks would inevitably become lost to a steady decline.

But then again, most men didn’t care since they were usually drunk and reeking of desperation when they entered the hostel. “Sell me your best,” they would often request of my boss to which he would simply signal whichever girl happened to be closest at the time. It was always unfortunate when it was someone simply looking to negotiate their pay so that they could feed their family.

I walked down the stairs from my room with heavy steps while trying to ignore the new ache between my thighs. Carefully, I avoided the lingering patrons while taking a seat at the bar. Someone had discarded a glass from earlier, but I didn’t care about whose lips might have touched the rim, downing the rest of the nasty-smelling liquid without care. “Don’t look so down, kid, you’re too young for wrinkles.”

I offered Wendy, the kind hostel bartender, a small smile. “Any news on how many ships are coming into port tonight?”

“Heard a lot of rumors today,” she said, toweling off another glass. “It might be a pretty busy night. You know that makes the boss happy.”

“But it also means a long shift for me,” I said. “I can only handle a few old bastards a night before I feel completely numb in my legs.”

“Try stretching,” she suggested. “Good business means you might get paid more.”

“Still won’t be enough,” I said, barely acknowledging one of the other hostel workers who had suddenly joined us at the bar.

“Sounds like someone should have stayed at home if she ain’t on her best game,” her nasal voice informed me.

“I don’t do much of the work.”

A snort of laughter. “That’s true. You might be the best of us at spreading those pretty thighs.”

I gritted my teeth together as I signaled for Wendy to refill my glass. “This coming from someone who’s always chosen last by the clientele.”

Barbara paused next to me, spine rigid. “Watch your mouth, little girl. We don’t talk that way to anyone, got it?”

“Whatever,” I muttered darkly, eyes narrowing as more men started to walk into the hostel, eyes shiny with evidence of their desires which I would have the obligation of fulfilling.

“Work hard,” Barbara snapped at me before wandering out onto the main floor sporting her best smile.

I glowered in her direction, surveying the crowd with disinterest. “There’s a big group,” Wendy remarked, nodding at the door.

I spun around in my chair, holding tightly to my glass as I discovered the boisterous crowd of relatively young sailors who had just entered the hostel. It was a large group of men, clothed in ragged attire barely held together by worn stitching, black-toed boots scuffing the floors. They were loud and obnoxious, clearly oblivious to decorum. They wore matching black masks and hats, overcoats thick as they carried themselves with an air of superiority. “They don’t look like regular sailors,” I remarked loosely to Wendy, unaware of the consequences of my words until a few moments later when the leader of the group suddenly confronted my boss who had been talking with a few regulars.

“How many do you have here?” the masked man demanded, flaming red hair contrasting with his pale skin.

“H-how many of what?” my boss asked, cowering back as he took in the sight of the gangly crew.

“Whores,” the red-head said, surveying the hostel with interest, eyes pausing on me for longer than I would have liked.

“Tonight?” my boss spluttered. “I got six working the floor.”

“We’ll take all of them,” the red-head said.

“I don’t know if I have enough rooms to accommodate that many pairings! If you could just-”

“Not here,” the red-head sighed impatiently, turning to look at one of his partners. “Am I not speaking English, San?”

“It sounds like it to me,” the one named San pondered, gaze thoughtful as he considered my boss. “Did you not hear him, old man? Give us all of your whores.”

“W-where would you take them?”

“Onboard, obviously,” the red-head snapped. “The crew needs some new entertainment.”

“They got bored of the last ones,” a deeper voice joined the fray belonging to someone whose eyes crinkled at the sides with mischief. He was undoubtedly smiling beneath that unusual disguise.

“Hurry up, Mingi, Captain’s not gonna wait all night!”

“Those girls aren’t leaving this hostel,” my boss said, standing straighter even as his shoulders fell against the heavy gaze of Mingi, tall form looming in a dominant fashion.

In a split second, Mingi pulled a gun from the belt around his waist, aiming directly at my boss’ head. The entire hostel grew silent, all eyes watching the impending situation with fear evident in their dilated irises. “What did you say?”

“Alright, alright,” my boss said, waving his hands like a lunatic. “You can use them for one night.”

BANG!

I heard a distant squeal when his body finally hit the floor, but I was too caught up in my unexpected self-satisfaction at seeing my slimy boss bleeding out against the wood I had spent hours cleaning last night. “He said six,” Mingi growled, glancing back at his men. “Take whichever six you want, including her,” he said, pointing in my direction. “We can save her for the captain.”

His words were the catalyst for the sudden action of the other men, swords drawn from their scabbards as they ran at the crowd with excited cheers as if the prospect of attacking innocent civilians was too much to anticipate. Screams filled the hostel, men and women alike running in opposite directions in their desperation to escape. “Pirates!” someone shouted and the word sent a shiver down my spine as I met the gaze of the man who had murdered my boss in cold blood.

“The Captain will like you a lot, girl,” Mingi said, nodding appreciatively as he openly appraised me like I was particularly worthy of his attention. Around us, the other girls were sobbing and pleading, struggling in the grasps of the pirates who had since taken them hostage, pulling them towards the door of the hostel which I once associated with long nights struggling to sell my body to the highest bidder. “Are you gonna give me a hard time like your friends?”

“They aren’t my friends,” I retorted coldly, surprising the pirate standing before me.

“You’ll be coming with us.”

“I understand,” I said calmly, gazing out across the now mostly vacant hostel, a few bodies littering the floors covered in blood. “I’ll go with you.”

Mingi smirked, gripping tightly to my upper arm even though it wasn’t necessary, leading me out into the chaotic streets like I was nothing more than a common dog for him to command. The island itself was a complete mess, townspeople running through the streets cursing and yelling, trash loitering the sidewalks, children mindlessly glancing around with wide, confused eyes. And through it all I managed to keep myself together, vaguely wondering what my mother might be doing at that moment. But it never crossed my mind to beg this pirate to allow me one last chance to see her. It didn’t matter that my mother depended on me to take care of her because, for a fleeting second, I could only think about how unfair it was that I was stuck with a mother like her who could no longer protect me from harm

The dock was glowing in the distance, lanterns lighting the worn pathways leading to different ships anchored at port. I had only been to the docks a few times in my life, mostly to help my former boss whenever the hostel received a large delivery. Nevertheless, it still managed to fill me with a sick feeling of hope that maybe one day I could find myself a ship willing to take me far away from the island. Somewhere warm and inviting where I could study Astronomy and remember all the delicate patterns I had once memorized when I was still a young and impressionable child.

Of course, being kidnapped against my will was certainly not the way I envisioned leaving the island, especially when it involved pirates. I studied Mingi from the corner of my eyes. How many people has he killed? Would I be just another body to add to his list?

Such questions were useless to consider because fear was the last emotion I needed to feed into right now, paralyzed with the wide-eyed desire to run or fight and protect myself. I would stand no chance with these pirates, especially Mingi who was taller and strong, leading me to a ship that stood in contrast to the others anchored down. The ship in question, with the name “Precious” painted onto the side of the hull, was larger than any boat I had ever seen docked at the bay. It was actually quite beautiful, dark sails trembling in the breeze while the forlorn flag at the highest point indicated that it belonged to the pirate order. But that was just the ironic contradiction of the ship because despite its outward appearance, the men who commanded her wheel were nothing short of barbaric. A nasty breed of man who plundered the seas and killed without remorse.

I stumbled up the narrow plank, glaring at Mingi from the corner of my eye as he continued to push me onboard. The other girls were already kneeling, hands tied behind their backs as they suffered from various states of undress. I glanced down at my disheveled skirts, grateful that they at least covered my legs. “This one is for the Captain.”

“But she’s the youngest!” another voice complained, glaring almost enviously at the other girls.

“For. The. Captain,” Mingi repeated, jerking me to the right. “You can do whatever you want to the rest of them.”

I glanced back over my shoulder, wincing when I saw one of the pirates dig his fingers tightly into Barbara’s dark hair. “You should be grateful,” Mingi growled at me. “The Captain doesn’t like to share.”

“I don’t feel grateful,” I hissed back at him, completely unprepared for the accompanying slap as my head twisted to the side.

“You won’t talk to me that way,” Mingi said, shoving me against the wall, fingers tightening around my throat. My lungs were screaming for air, toes hovering above the deck, hands scratching against his impossible hold. I was gasping, desperate for air while my mind screamed at me to fight back, but I was powerless against his predominant strength.

“Is this one mine?”

My feet landed on the floor and I dropped to my knees, breathing in the air like it was the last time I might be able to do so. “It might not be worth it, Captain,” Mingi spat. “She’s got a mouth on her.”

“Is that so?”

I was slowly recovering from my temporary brush with death, lifting my gaze to locate the mysterious Captain I was now meant to serve. He wasn’t as tall as Mingi, but he was somehow far more intimidating, wearing all black from the mask hiding his face to the boots echoing against the deck. His hair was a strawberry color, delicately framing an angular face that might be handsome if it didn’t belong to such a despicable person. “Tell me your name, whore,” he demanded.

I swallowed hard against the raw ache in my throat. “Y/N.”

The Captain nodded. “Mingi, you can leave the two of us now. Go enjoy the other girls.”

Mingi obeyed, albeit reluctantly as he trained those suspicious eyes on my recovering form. “Aye, sir.”

I watched him as he walked away, fingers massaging my still-tender throat. “Does it hurt?”

I carefully considered the Captain. “He tried to kill me.”

“You shouldn’t mouth off,” the Captain said, nodding towards a door. “Come inside.” I bit my tongue, withholding a sharp retort as I did as he directed, brushing off my skirts. “My private quarters,” he said, shrugging off his thick overcoat while I examined the dozens of candles lining the mantlepiece.

“Will the others be hurt?”

He paused at my question. “Does it matter? You can’t do anything to help them.”

“I just want to help myself,” I told him honestly, brushing my fingers across a rather ancient looking bookcase.

“Then this should be easy,” the Captain said, tearing off his mask. “You can be good for me while I fuck you.”

I took a moment to admire the Captain’s features, far more delicate than I was anticipating with dark, thoughtful eyes. “I’ve been doing that my whole life, Captain.”

He smirked. “Then this should be second-nature to you.”

I bristled at the insinuation. “Maybe I’m tired of being treated like a whore.”

“Why else do you think you were brought onto this ship?” the Captain asked, tone growing hostile.

“I was forced to come aboard,” I said. “By that bumbling idiot who tried to kill me.”

“And I could do the same,” the Captain said, drawing a gun from the holster hanging off his belt. “Get on the bed.”

“I’d rather die,” I told him honestly, staring down the silver weapon to meet the Captain’s narrowed eyes. “Kill me instead.”

A chuckle escaped from between his lips. “So that’s what you want? I could always force you.”

“I’d fight back.”

“But I’m quite strong, love,” he said with a barely distinguishable accent.

“It wouldn’t be easy for you,” I said. “Didn’t you say you wanted someone easy?”

The Captain was quiet for a long time before he re-holstered his gun, crossing his arms in a closed-off manner. “Then perhaps a few nights in the brig will change your mind.”

#ateez fanfic #ateez smut #kim hongjoong #kim hongjoong fanfic #hongjoong fanfic #hongjoong smut

252 notes · View notes

baevillier · 4 years

Note

Dating seguin and being insecure and trying to push him away and break up with him but he won’t let you

oh anon... how you know me so well

Okay so Im pretty sure you just wanted thoughts on this, but i had this idea and it just took form into a full imagine... SO ENJOY!

You Can’t Get Rid of me | Tyler Seguin |

Pairing: Tyler x Reader

Dating someone in the spotlight was never easy. Whether it be the constant comparisons between exes or self-doubts in general- often times You found yourself searching for reasons that explained why someone like Him, could like someone like you.

In your eyes, Tyler was everything- How could he not be? He was kind, funny, honest, loyal- not to mention his rockin bod- everything about him made you feel small in comparison.

It had been one of the main sources of your fights.

Another night of loud voices and slamming doors had ended with you sleeping in the guest room- Not because Tyler had asked you to, but because you were too stubborn to join him, Cash, Marshall and Gerry in the bedroom.

Tonight, the fight had been caused by Tyler asking you to go with him to a banquet- It was more or so a dinner with a few awards being handed out to players across the league, and as his girlfriend, he was expecting you to be in attendance.

In your mind, attending meant that you had to get dressed up in a fancy dress and heels- hair done and makeup perfect as you walked with Tyler as his arm candy for the night.

It wasn't that you didn’t want to go, It was just that you felt as though you didn’t belong. You were never apart of his world, Hell you had met him at the gas station- the most average and mundane of places.

One of your biggest fears was making Tyler look bad, or him finally realizing that you just weren't the effort or that you weren't his type. You weren't rich, you weren't a model or the housewife type.

You hadn’t spoken to Tyler since the fight. The two of you were going on 7 days of not interacting and if you were being honest- you didn’t know where your relationship stood.

Had you two broken up?

Were you on a break?

Was this the end?

Swallowing your pride, you had gotten into contact with Katie- Jamie’s girlfriend and asked her to help you out. The two of you spent the entire day getting ready for the banquet, you were going to do this for Tyler, even if it meant bruising your ego.

As you stood at the entrance of the banquet hall, your whole body was tense- you hair was styled just the way you liked it and a red satin dress covered your every curve- perfectly complimenting you figure. Nude heels carried you towards the area where Jamie and The rest of the team was standing-

You had on a gold necklace and bracelet, both of which had been anniversary gifts from Tyler- holding your clutch against your stomach- you spotted him, His hair was slicked back and he was wearing a beautiful suit- It was grey and had soft intricate detailing along the sleeves- his dress shirt hugged his chest perfectly, but you could see the stress he was under-

From the furrow of his brows to the clenched strain against his jaw, his hands were typing furiously at his phone- his chest heaving from heavy breaths. As your own phone dinged- He looked up and spotted you.

Seeing you standing there, Tyler felt his heart clench. He got those sam butterflies that he first had that afternoon at the gas station and he sweared that you looked just as beautiful pumping gas as you did right now- dolled up for him.

“Tyler...” You breathed out heavily as you finally walked towards him. he hand immediately found your waist and he brought you close- kissing the top of your head and his free hand pressing against the side of your head.

“You came...” he spoke softly, his tone was drenched with an emotion you couldn’t quite place- it was somewhere between gratitude and shock.

Through the night, you had done your best to keep up with the mingling, talking to people Tyler introduced you to, and sticking rather close to him the entire night- his hand barely leaving your waist.

As you took a quick break from Katie and the other girlfriends to head to the ladies room, your eyes landed on Tyler and his teammates. He looked so happy and pleased, he fit in perfectly and as you looked around the room- you realized how out of place you were.

You were wearing a costume, but these women and men- this was their life, their environment. You were thriving. feeling yourself starting to become anxious and choked up, you snuck down a hallway and grabbed your phone.

“I need to go- I’m sorry, I cant do this.” You quickly texted Tyler.

As you tried to make your escape, Tyler quickly caught up to you- you were barely halfway down the street when the backdoor of the banquet hall opened and Tyler was jogging out.

“Y/N!” he called after you, quickly jogging to you and grasping your arm delicately, he noticed the tears in your eyes and the redness spreading across your face.

As you raised your hands and tried to step away from him, he placed his hands on your forearms- keeping you from taking off. “Tyler please let go- I can’t do this right now.” You spoke weakly.

Shaking his head, Tyler clenched his jaw. “No- you’re not doing this to me again- Why can’t you just come in and pretend that you’re enjoying the night?” he asked frustratedly.

your bottom lip trembled and instantly you felt all your emotions boil over. “Because thats what i’m doing Tyler! I am pretending!” You snapped.

“This is not my life! This is yours! I love you so much,,, But i cant do this- its over... You deserve so much more than me!” You protested. As Tyler stood there taking in your every word, you found yourself finally cracking.

“I can’t keep acting like somehow this all makes sense! I’m nothing Tyler- in comparison to all those other women in there, to everyone on your team with their fancy cars and their fancy clothes- in comparison to you...”

Your voice broke as he pulled you close- refusing to let you go as his arms wrapped around your waist. “I am nothing...” you breathed out.

Tyler gulped, you could feel him letting out a sigh- and it was in this moment that you thought everything had finally ended. He had finally given up and let you go. “Y/N... I don’t care if you’re rich or if you’re a model-” his own voice started to break and you cursed yourself for causing him so much pain.

“Hell... I would take you in sweatpants and in a grease stained shirt any day over someone so fake that I cant tell the difference between them and plastic.” he reassured you.

Pulling away just enough to cup your cheeks and look you in the eyes, Tyler smiled sadly. “I am nothing without you Y/N... and that might sound cliche- but i am tired of you pushing me away because you think you’re not good enough.” he spoke firmly.

“Y/N, You make me wanna be a better man- and i am so in love with you... So you can yell at me that you wanna break up and stomp away- but just know that tomorrow I will be at your front door- begging you to take me back until you finally do.” he chuckled softly.

You could help but lean into his touch as he wiped one of your stray tears- the two of you must have looked like a mess- standing on the street and pouring your hearts out to each other- but neither of you cared.

“You really mean that?” you asked him, a soft smile finally making It’s way onto your lips.

Tyler laughed and hugged you tightly, his head resting upon yours as he had you smothered into his chest. “Baby... You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”

#tyler seguin #tyler seguin imagine #tyler seguin x reader #Jamie benn #dallas stars #writing community #Fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl #hockey #request #Ask jj #angst #fluff

243 notes · View notes

huntergatherercreator · 4 years

Text

The Takedown | Part Two

Pairing: Mob!Tom Holland x Detective Reader

Summary: NYC has a new drug lord determined to wipe out any and all competition in order to grow his empire. You're going undercover to stop him.

Warnings: Couple of threats, mentions of drugs and violence but nothing detailed

Notes: You can find the first part here | Part One I'm posting this a little ahead of time because work is chaotic right now. Part Three is underway and I'm hoping to get each part posted on Fridays from now on but please bear with if this falls through as it is work dependant!

------

Part 2 – 1,494 Words

The alley reeked of hot trash even in the evening air. I did my best to breathe through my mouth as I sidestepped bags that hadn’t made it into the dumpsters and edged my way around the fetid puddles lining the path. Yanking my jacket sleeve back, I checked the time on my battered watch. I was ten minutes early. It gave me time to scout the site and ensure no unwanted visitors were hanging around.

This was my first meeting with someone other than a fellow street dealer since I’d gone undercover two months ago. I'd gotten into trading easy enough, pulling the strings of an informant to get me hooked onto the lowest rung of the web. Now all I had to do was keep moving my way up, weave myself into the inner circle. Prove my skills could be put to better use in commanding my own team so that I could get closer to Holland.

The meeting had been the jolt that I’d needed to stay on track. The first month had been gruelling, not just physically. The mental override I’d needed to go through in order to push my morals aside, to spread a substance I’d swore to keep off the streets had been a battle. It still didn’t sit comfortably with me. Each new face I sold to felt like a massive step in the wrong direction, but it was a necessary evil. If I was to do this I had to play the part without fault. Any interaction with the law and I’d be finished along with the investigation.

The end of the alley opened into an empty parking lot backed by a derelict block of apartments. If I had the energy to I’d laugh at the predictability of it. Instead, I propped myself against the nearest wall, allowing myself a brief rest. Constantly prowling about at night, pacing street after street had ruined my body's sleep schedule. Not that I’d had one working on the force.

I slid out my phone and used the camera to check out my surroundings. Zooming into the gaping windows of the building I tried to appear relaxed, tried to keep any tension out of my body language as I surreptitiously scanned the area for movement. I wasn’t naive enough to think that this would be a simple, friendly conversation.

The low purr of an engine broke through the relative silence of the back street. A sleek black Chrysler was reversing into the opening. Scanning the license plate I noted it was one of the newest models. From the informants reports the next rung on the ladder was a Runner; someone who obtained a set amount of drugs from a higher source and handed it out to certain dealers on the streets. It was a step up in the sense that they no longer needed to sell, but not enough in way of profit gain to justify owning what was idling a few feet from me. I’d yet to come across a Runner personally. Being new to the ‘industry’ I had been kept in the dark until I could prove I could keep my mouth shut. I was hoping this meeting would tell me who ran the drugs I was selling and help me piece together exactly how this operation was being run.

The driver and passenger door opened simultaneously. Despite knowing I’d be outnumbered my stomach still sank a little at the confirmation. The first to emerge fit the typical dealer profile; shaved head, stoic expression, neck tattoo that dipped out of sight under a loose black hoodie. He ticked all the boxes except he held himself better. Usually dealers like a taste of the product. It makes them paranoid, shifty in every situation as they wait their next fix. He didn’t have any of the tells that accompanied being a user, but he did have a swagger to his walk that told me ‘ex-con’.

The second man climbed from the driver side of the car, his lip curling at the stench of trash. Dressed in a tailored black suit with gleaming dress shoes I knew I was dealing with someone with a much higher status than I’d been prepared for. He sharply tugged at the ends of his sleeves to straighten out any wrinkles, narrowed eyes scanning the alley before he signalled his accomplice with a nod.

Pushing off the wall I pocketed my phone and kept my hands in their line of sight. My skin prickled with apprehension as they approached. In my mind I ran through the key players we had case files for. Unfortunately both these men were so cliché that they would have fit several, if not all, of the descriptions I’d memorised. I resisted the urge to square my shoulders as they stopped before me. The ex-con crossed his arms, a deliberate flex to warn me he was there as muscle while the other tucked his hands into his trouser pockets, and proceeded to give me the once over with a blank look.

“I won’t lie you’re not exactly what I was expecting from someone who’s causing me so much trouble,” he eventually said. Dread trickled into the pit of my stomach.

“I don’t know what you mean.” I tried to keep my voice even.

“Those bruises on your face say otherwise.”

I held back a grimace. I’d done my best to conceal the worst of the marks with some drug store makeup. Come night they’d barely be noticeable, but with the late evening sun still lingering high in the sky they stood out more than I wanted.

“I’m within my right to defend myself.” As much as I tried to resist I found myself folding my arms, careful to avoid the bruising on my chest that couldn’t be seen. His eyes glinted as they followed the movement.

“In a normal situation yes, but not when it creates an issue in my operation. I’m four dealers down because of you.” He walked closer, leisurely starting to circle me as he spoke. Suddenly the name clicked; Sam Arnold. Despite having notes to say he’d been seen associating with known players we’d not been able to prove he was involved. Now here he was, stating he ran the Lower East Side.

“Tell me, did you think there wouldn’t be consequences to losing me so many players? Did you think you’d be able to just keep selling in my borough?” He stopped behind me. Images of the four men he was referring to crawled from the dark corner in my mind where I’d shoved them. They were all dealers in the area who’d decided they didn’t want any more opposition; they tried to ‘put me out of business.’ They hadn’t been expecting me to fight back, but I did, though not to the extent that would keep them off the streets as this man was suggesting. Which only meant one thing; he’d killed them. My blood ran cold as the reality sank in.

As if sensing the connection I’d made he leaned in, breath hot against my neck. “I don’t tolerate dissent in my area. It draws attention. People start to ask questions. I can’t have people asking questions.” I bit the inside of my cheek, hands fisting to hold back.

I’d known this case was going to be dangerous. I’d dealt with most of the bodies from the turf war. I knew what I was up against. I repeated the thoughts until my heart rate slowed enough to think logically. I had to turn this around, work it to my advantage. If he was who he implied I had to make an impression he, and Holland, couldn’t overlook.

“They worked the same streets I did. I know who their regulars are and I know the area better than anyone you could bring in, I can shift their supplies.”

His sidekick shot a look over my shoulder, lips tightening. Finishing his tour he stood before me, icy blue eyes scouring my face. He was trying to assess whether I was lying.

“Had it been any other day I wouldn’t entertain your kind, but I’m pressed to keep on target, so you have until the end of the month. I want it all gone.” The ‘or else’ hung in the air. “Tate, here, will oversee you,” he tipped his head towards the other man, “no need to worry about contacting him. He’ll arrange the delivery and tell you where and when to collect it.”

I nodded mutely.

“Good,” he smiled, his eyes staying cold. “I’ll see you in twelve days.” With that he stalked back to the car. Tate lingered until he heard the driver door closing before following. As the sound of the engine faded I let my shoulders drop with a sigh. There was no feasible way I could do this myself. I’d have to recruit help. Luckily, I had an idea of where to start.

-------

Part Three is here!

Taglist: @spideylovin @lukesbabylon

#mob!tom #mob!tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland

95 notes · View notes

peacheeyyy · 4 years

Text

To Live and Lose | Levi Ackerman

Teaser

not my gif

When you first ascended the stairs to come above ground, did you choke on how much air there was up here?" Your empty voice rang out around you, tears glistening on your cheeks. You stood at the very edge of the cliff that plunged straight down into a river that you could hear but not see. Toes over the edge, a few inches further and you would fall to your death.

"Yes, and I felt that way again my first time out of the walls." The man that stood somewhere behind you responded, a worried tone laced in the words he spoke. "And the first time i saw the pure sunlight my vision was filled with nothing but burning light for hours."

An empty cackle escaped from your cracked lips, "The only thing I choked on outside of those walls was the stench of death, and it seems to have followed us right back in here."

WARNINGS: This story deals with heavy themes such as: sex work, depression, suicidal thoughts, gore, death, major character death, rape (only mentioned by name, no details), Trauma, PTSD

Levi Ackerman x Reader

The night before the first encounter...

It was disgusting, it was abhorrent. No sane person would voluntarily live in such a place, but fate was a cruel and fickle thing, damning you to be born into the underground city. It was volatile, it was grimy, but it was all you knew for the 17 years you had been alive, for better or worse. You had a plan though, a plan that your mother came up with when you were nothing but a child: as soon as you turned 18, you would apply for citizenship above ground. The MPs that now frequented your services would serve as your required recommendations. You knew that it was a long shot, the MPs weren't likely to give recommendations due to the possibility of loosing their favorite girl. The brothel owner, Mr.Densy, would also be hesitant to let you get away that easily, he had ways of making people stay. It wasn't likely to happen, but you would never give up the small sliver of hope that had taken root in your chest at the thought of getting out.

You started to slip on the clothes you wore for work at the brothel. They were supplied by Mr.Densy and were skimpy, bright, and hugged your body in a way that was sinful and perfect for the brothel that you had been roped into working at when you were about 13. You slipped on the dull coat to offset the attention the bright clothes would bring. Attention in these parts got people killed. You drew you cloak closer around yourself as you shivered. Your mom had a saying when she would leave for the night to work, her melodic voice speaking the words every night was still engrained into your head, "Leave your mind at home to survive the night". You never understood what it meant until you got into the work yourself.

The brothel wasn't too far from where you lived, but the path there was full of twists and turns in order to avoid the places populated with thieves in the nights and early mornings. Your feet, however, knew exactly where to go and at which times to turn due to 4 years of using this path to the brothel every night and to home every morning. You stepped out of your house, securing the door before letting your feet carry you the way they knew you needed to go. As you rounded the last corner, the dingy building coming into view. A sigh of relief left your lips to have made it without incident. It wasn't rare to be caught up in a con to either steal from you, prey on you, or take advantage of you. And unfortunately, you were more than powerless to fight back, knowing how girls who tried to wound up. Those girls' bodies were usually found a few days later, evidence of being raped repeatedly and beat to a bloody mess evident on each of them. Violent flashes would always run through your mind thinking about the day your mother was found. No justice would come for those girls in a place like this.

In public, you had been 'promised' a job at the brothel every since your mother turned up dead when you were a mere 11 years old, In reality Mr.Densy had fed you stories about how your mom owed him a lot of money, and you, being raised the kind and generous person your mother wanted you to be, immediately felt guilty, so you begrudgingly accepted to work to pay off your mother's 'debt'. Which seemed to double the longer you worked there. Mr.Densy took a 40% interest rate on whatever you made in order to pay the debts. Alas, fate had been playing cruel games on you once again, and you ended up quite beautiful to even above ground standards according to your clients. Your outward appearance was just as beautiful as your soul, and it attracted the few Noble and Military men that would find their way down to the brothel for companionship. Mr.Densy had told you many times that you were his prize girl, the attention you received always managing to fill your coin purse and his. He favored you so much that he wouldn't let the men who lived in the underground become one of your clients, as to not 'taint' you with underground stench. Your body was now strictly reserved for the Military and Noble men that descended from the cities above your head.

The other women of the brothel would always look upon you with pity in their eyes, wishing a different fate for a person like you. They had constantly told you that you had to do whatever it took to get out of this place you called home. Telling you that it would never be good enough for you. Your mother's best friend of sorts always told you that a place as revolting and monstrous the underground would eventually reject someone as gorgeous and kindhearted such as yourself. When you were a mere 13 years of age and a fresh face in the brothel, they would look out for you. After you had your first rough coustomer, your mother's best friend was there to make sure you didn't scrub your skin off during your bath the next morning. They were sisters to you. Once you got older, however, they distanced themselves from you. Your mother's best friend who was once so close to you, became nothing more than a simple nod on the paths of the underground. You understood why they did that. Groups of women received unwanted attention here, it was easier to walk and live alone, hugging the shadows. Staying close was a death sentence that none of you wanted carried out.

You arrived to the brothel thanks to your body's muscle memory. You gingerly reached your hand out of the inner folds of your coat and opened the door that lead into the back room. The smell of cheap perfume and booze permeated the air, the stench so clear that it almost made you gag. A voice rang out in the mostly empty room you had entered, "Ah! There's my favorite girl!" Mr.Densy always waited in the back room for you to arrive when it was your turn for a shift. If you were late at all, he would be the first to respond. From the outside, it could be as endearing, but you knew better, you were nothing but money to him, and he never wanted to loose out on something so valuable. "Hello Mr.Densy." your voice was soft, almost unheard as you let your coat fall into your hands delicately in order to hang it onto a small rusted nail in the wall. The hot air of the brothel clung to the skin you exposed. "Your client is already in your reserved room." He responded, his heavy steps almost like thunder as he walked toward you. "It's the new kings man, so be careful and leave a good impression. And if he wants to get rough with you, don't refuse, just tell him your price goes up with every bruise." You almost shivered at the greed laced in the words that we're just spoken, nodding as to convey your understanding of the terms. "Is he married?" You asked, finally turning towards Mr.Densy. He ignored your question and instead his eyes traveled slowly down your form, his gaze inspecting your body, makeup, and clothes for any faults before shooing you through the door on the other side of the room. You stumbled over your feet before he pushed you gently out of the room and shut the door behind you, effectively forcing you to continue to your new client. It would, after all, be a death sentence to walk out the front door to return to your house.

You made your way up the two flights of stairs, careful not to disturb the other girls at work. Your steps were swift but lagging, dreading to have to attend to another new and powerful client. You dreaded having to hear the pillow talk about how he will get you out of this disgusting place, and dreaded even more the moment you would play right along with it. These men liked to feel like a knight in shining armor and always were able to play out their fantasy by making you their 'Damsel in Distress' that they had to save from a wretched life. You ascended the last step and walked to one of the only two rooms on this level. Pausing a second before you opened the door, putting on a façade of an innocent and unassuming young girl. You sent a quick prayer to whatever god or goddess that was up there to hear it, and slowly opened the door.

#attack on titan #levi x reader #slow burn #lgbt #reader #snk levi #petra ral

34 notes · View notes

sethrine-writes · 4 years

Text

Daughter of a Devil - Ch. 16

Main Characters: Father!Dante & Daughter!Reader

Words: 2343

Warnings: Fancy stuff, Fluff, Father-Daughter Dancing

Story Summary: Being a parent wasn’t easy, nor was there such thing as being perfect at it. Good news for Dante, seeing as how he doesn’t have the slightest idea in hell what to do with a child. Sometimes, he was certain that fighting off a horde of demons was a far better match than keeping up with his own daughter. Well, at least he wasn’t going down without a fight.

A/N: Thank you guys so much for all the warm welcomes back into this series! I’m so glad you guys are still interested in this lovely little universe. Here’s another chapter, just for you kind souls! Some nice fluff. Enjoy!

------

Chapter 16 - When the Devils Dance (16 yrs.)

You had honestly not expected to see both Lady and Trish waiting for you as soon as you entered the shop. In fact, their presence was a little irking, seeing as how your father had said they were on some sort of mission of their own a few cities away. Either he was lying, or they were really fast; the former sounded much more fitting for this particular situation.

“Hey Trish…Lady,” you said with a nod in greeting, eyeing the smiling women suspiciously. Sure, you were covered in dirt and muck and God-knows-what else from your earlier assignment of taking care of some small-fry demons (damn things were fast and kept tripping you up), but the mischievous grins sprouting on their faces didn’t look like the type of reaction appropriate for your disheveled appearance.

“Have you guys seen Dad?”

“Dante’s a bit…tied up at the moment,” Lady answered, her smile never wavering. You had a feeling her statement was far more truth than it should have been.

“Right. Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’m just gonna go…that way, so - son of a bitch!”

You had just turned toward the kitchen and had taken a few steps when Trish had suddenly appeared before you, arms crossed just below her breasts and hip cocked to one side. Whatever her smile meant, you had a strange feeling that you were involved.

“I’m afraid there’s just no time for you to wander about. We have to get you ready!”

You gave the blonde she-demon a very strange look.

“R-ready? Ready for wha-“

“Come on, now, upstairs for a shower.”

“Wait…hey!”

You continued to shout and curse the whole way upstairs as Trish pushed you along, already pulling at your clothes to quicken the process. By the time you were actually in the bathroom, you were almost completely naked.

“Alright, wash your hair, shave those legs, and brush your teeth. You’ve got fifteen minutes to finish!”

You sputtered at the ridiculous amount of time you were given to do all of what she was asking, especially with how dirty you had gotten from your mission. You were just about to tell her off, too, when you turned and found she was no longer in the bathroom with you.

“Remember, fifteen minutes!”

“Are you guys crazy?!”

“Goodness, you’re right…better make it ten!”

You sighed heavily as you finished undressing and climbed into the bathtub for a quick shower. Whatever those two had planned, you were being forced to go along with it. You decided you might as well go along with the ride and hoped that whatever they were going to do with you didn’t hurt too badly in the end.

---

You may have just started out as a demon hunter, much like your father, but you had definitely already faced some hard challenges, had come home with some bruises and bleeding wounds that would soon scar over - much slower than Dante’s own almost instant healing, but hey, they would make for some interesting stories.

In that regard, you wished you were fighting Sparda, himself, then being dolled up by the two women doting over you at that moment. Truly, you had to be in some sort of hell-dimension. Maybe you had died on that mission, and this was your punishment.

“Just hold still!”

“Damnit, stop pulling on my hair!”

“You’re acting like a child.”

“I am not!”

You continued to argue and struggle against both Lady and Trish, cringing at makeup brushes and coughing at the excessive amount of hairspray being used to keep your hair in place. It felt between a lifetime and probably about ten minutes for them to finish, everything calming rather suddenly as both women ooed and awed at their work.

You were turned abruptly to look into the full length mirror hanging on your wall, your disgruntled expression smoothing over almost immediately at your made-up visage.

“I look…so different.”

“Well, not really,” Lady explained, coming up behind you and placing her hand on your shoulder. “You’re just a little spruced up, is all. You’re still the same rough, difficult, badmouthed, daughter of a devil that we all know and love.”

You gave a huff of a laugh as Lady pat at your shoulder reassuringly and made her way to your closet as Trish excused herself with the promise of having Dante ready.

“One last thing, and then you can meet your dad downstairs.”

“Was he in on this whole thing, too?”

Lady gave you a look, one you recognized as twisted in the most delightful way. It was safe to say that Dante had gotten the same treatment as you.

You definitely still had questions, but they were answered rather abruptly when Lady presented you with a full-length dress, a gown only seen at high school proms or those fancy parties and dances-

Everything was starting to make sense. You weren’t sure if you had ever been so nervous as you were at that moment.

---

Every year for the past fifty-seven or so years, the local park held an annual formal spring dance that allowed all ages to attend. It was sort of like a prom, but with the addition of small children and elderly couples dressed up nicely in frilly outfits joining in on all the festivities. It was a chance for everyone to dress up for one night and make themselves feel beautiful as well as have fun with close friends and family members.

The park itself was lit up with lights stuck in trees and bushes throughout the whole area. There was a big makeshift dance floor laid out along the less grooved area of grass in the middle of the park, and several tables of refreshments and tasty treats were set out. Off to the side of the large expanse set aside for dancing was the music-mixer table where two DJs were stationed and playing a variety of music.

Many people from around the city were present, dressed to impress, and despite the large crowd, you were having a blast.

You weren’t even sure why you had been so nervous, in the first place, and even though the whole process of being dressed up wasn’t much your style, you were happy Lady and Trish had sprung such a little surprise on both you and your father.

Already, you had been asked to dance by several sharply dressed young men, all of which you accepted. You were surprised that Dante had actually allowed you to do such a thing, especially with the way he was when you so much as mentioned a guy you talked to on a normal, friendly basis. His focus tonight was to make you happy, however, and if you were happy dancing with all the men that showed up that night, then so be it.

At one point, as you were sitting down to take a small break and talking with your father on some of the weird and rather hilarious dance moves a large group was pulling off, a small boy around the age of five had come up to you with the sweetest little face. He then held up a flower he had picked just off to the side of the dance floor and asked if you would dance with him. It was the single most sweetest thing you had ever witnessed, and with a smile of your own (and a hardy laugh from your father) you accepted and allowed the tyke to lead you on the dance floor for two songs.

Before long, the DJs were beginning to dedicate the dances for specialty couples, such as elder couples, younger couples, just the kids, and so on. After about four or five dances, there was one that was for “Fathers and Daughters,” quite similar to the one some traditional weddings still did.

“Looks like it’s our turn to tear up the dance floor, Squirt,” Dante said with a short waggle of his brows, standing and holding out his arm for you to take.

You shook your head at his antics, but took his arm with a smile and let him lead you to the middle of the dance floor along with the other fathers and daughters gathering around.

The song itself was a very lovely melody, one that you were familiar with and enjoyed listening to in your free time. Instead of stepping to a more complicated dance routine, as you had first expected Dante to lead you into, you and your father both fell in-step to a gentle sway that went perfectly with the tune. One of your hands rested comfortably in his as the other took purchase on his shoulder, right above where you rested your head.

You were aware of several parents with cameras snapping a quick photo or two around you, but you didn’t mind much. There was almost a guarantee you’d be gifted with a photo of the moment by some mysterious means, of which you were more than okay with.

“So, how’d you like the surprise?”

You laughed a little and pulled back to look at your father fully.

Truth be told, Dante cleaned up really good, with his longer hair slicked back in a nice style and his face clean-shaven. He’d donned a nicer shirt for the occasion with a tie that matched the color of your dress and a newer, black coat, dark jeans and his usual dusty boots cleaned up to an almost decent shine polishing off the ensemble. He looked younger, rugged, even, in a nice way. You could definitely see the charm in his look, and it was no wonder why your mother had been so smitten with him when they first met.

“So, you did have a hand in it,” you accused in a playful tone, earning an equally playful smirk from your father.

“I may have mentioned something to the ladies, though all the planning and torture was their doing, I’m afraid.”

“No kidding,” you huffed, leaning back against his chest. “It was a little sudden, and too much hairspray was involved, but it was nice. This is nice. Oh, I was wondering, did Lady and Trish really have you tied up?”

Your father gave a heavy sigh, and laughter escaped your lips. Dante may have been one of the most difficult men you knew, but Lady was much more stubborn and hell-bent on anything she set her mind to, with Trish more than happy to join along in the mayhem. You were sure that if they wanted to put your father in a bright orange dress with ruffles and make him do the Macarena, they’d have him dancing the night away by that evening.

“Well, I’m glad you did it. You know, for me; I don’t think I’ve had this much fun since shooting off the eyes of that limb-sprouting demon a couple months back.”

“Yeah, that was one hell of a treat, wasn’t it? Lady was so pissed after that mission!”

You both began laughing as you remembered quite well the verbal thrashing the demon hunter had given Dante for taking his sweet time in taking care of business. You had been given the same thrashing, though it wasn’t nearly as harsh as the one your father had to endure.

Before long, the song came to an end which gave way to many cheers from the bystanders watching the fathers and daughters dance. You and Dante stopped in the middle of the dance floor, smiling at each other. You then reached around him and pulled him to you in a warm hug, feeling his much stronger arms wrap around you securely to return the gesture.

“Dad, I know I don’t say it often enough, but…thanks, for everything you do for me.”

“Squirt-”

Whatever Dante was about to say was interrupted by a loud, screeching noise coming from the sky. You both looked up into the darkness to find a large group of bird-like creatures swooping down and startling the people in the park, attempting to scramble the mass and section them off. Many began screaming and running around in hopes of finding a way to escape the strange sight, just as the demons were expecting, most likely.

“Let’s go,” Dante said, and just like that he was pulling you along by the arm while reaching inside his coat and pulling out what looked like Ivory to fire several shots at the circling demons. Doing so only served to do two things: make the demons angrier and startle the crowd even more.

People were tripping here and there as the winged creatures began to swoop lower to pull a human or two up a small ways before letting them drop back down. In a way, they were teasing them, playing with their meal, so to speak.

At one point, one of the bird-like demons came too close to you and had pulled at the back of your dress, ripping several seams and pulling at the fabric at the bottom until several pieces of it hung from your form.

You looked back at the tattered skirt of the dress, a burning sort of anger quickly seeping into your veins.

As your father reached within his coat once more to retrieve Ebony, you tore the remaining fabric from the bottom up to your knee in order to move around easier, revealing the glittering heels you wore as well as your gun, Rein, strapped carefully to your lower thigh. You pulled the weapon from its holster against your skin and began firing your own shots into the air at the swarming horde, all but roaring with the anger building inside you.

“You damn pterodactyls ruined my dress and one of the best nights of my life! I’ll send all of you back to hell!”

Dante stopped momentarily in his shooting to watch you go to town on the flying creatures, almost swearing he could see red in your gaze.

God, but you looked like your mother. You’d grown up into such a lovely young woman - damn near brought a tear to his eye.

#dmc #devil may cry #dmc dante #devil may cry dante #dmc lady #dmc trish #reader #reader-insert #female reader #Daughter of a Devil

40 notes · View notes