#*takes long drag of cigarette* we're not so different you and I...
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mecharose · 7 months ago
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had someone recently near-totally blow up their relationship with me bc they were afraid to fuck it up by talking to me and thus ruining my opinion of them, which was surely much higher from a distance. and from this? i have learned nothing.
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thirteenheavens · 20 days ago
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age gap with wonwoo x reader?
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Who’s your companion?|Jeon Wonwoo
Word count:1k
Notes: back to writing after revision hehe hope you enjoy anon thanks for requesting!
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Wonwoo leads you into the upscale restaurant, his hand resting on the small of your back. You can feel the eyes of his coworkers on you as they notice the age difference between you two.
"Don't mind them," Wonwoo whispers in your ear, sensing your discomfort. "They're just surprised to see me with someone younger." He guides you to a table where his colleagues are already seated, pulling out a chair for you. As you sit down, Wonwoo takes the seat next to you, his thigh brushing against yours under the table.
One of his coworkers, a woman named Jisoo, speaks up with a smirk. "So, Wonwoo, care to introduce us to your... companion?" Wonwoo smiles politely at Jisoo, his hand finding yours under the table and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Everyone, this is Y/N. She's my girlfriend."
The table falls silent for a moment before erupting in whispers and curious glances. You can feel your cheeks heating up under the scrutiny, but Wonwoo seems unfazed. Another coworker, a man named Jun, leans forward with a teasing grin. "Wonwoo, you never told us you had a girlfriend. Especially one so... young."
Wonwoo's grip on your hand tightens slightly as he glares at Jun. "That's none of your business," he says firmly. "Y/N and I are happy together, and that's all that matters." Jisoo chuckles. "Oh, come on, Wonwoo. We're just curious. How did you two even meet?"
Wonwoo looks at you, a hint of pride in his eyes. "We met at a cafe. She spilled coffee on me, actually." The table laughs, and you can't help but smile at the memory. Wonwoo continues, his voice softening. "And she's not just young. She's smart, funny, and kind. That's what matters to me."
The rest of the dinner goes smoothly, with Wonwoo's coworkers asking polite questions about your relationship and your studies. Despite their initial surprise, they seem to warm up to you. As the night goes on, Wonwoo becomes more protective of you, always making sure you're comfortable and included in the conversation. He keeps his hand on your thigh under the table, occasionally rubbing soothing circles with his thumb.
When it's time to leave, Wonwoo stands up and helps you out of your chair. "Thank you for coming tonight," he says to his coworkers. "It was nice to finally introduce Y/N to all of you." The coworkers bid you both goodbye, and Wonwoo leads you out of the restaurant. Once you're outside, he pulls you close to him, his arms wrapping around your waist.
"I'm sorry if they made you uncomfortable," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "They can be nosy sometimes." You shake your head, leaning into his embrace. "It's okay. I know they were just curious. Besides, I'm used to it now."
Wonwoo chuckles softly, his hands moving to your hips. "You handled it well. You always do." Wonwoo cups your face in his hands, his eyes filled with affection as he looks down at you. "You're amazing, you know that?"
He leans in and captures your lips in a tender kiss, his thumbs gently stroking your cheeks. "I'm lucky to have you," he whispers against your lips. The kiss deepens, becoming more passionate as Wonwoo presses you against the wall of the restaurant. His hands slide down to your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly.
"Wonwoo," you gasp, wrapping your legs around his waist. "What if someone sees us?" He smirks, his lips trailing down to your neck. "Let them see," he growls. "I don't care who knows that you're mine." Wonwoo nips at your skin, leaving a trail of kisses and love bites along your neck. His hands grip your thighs tightly, holding you in place as he grinds against you.
"You're mine," he repeats possessively. "And I'll show everyone who doubts it just how much I love you." Wonwoo steps back, still holding you in his arms as he lights a cigarette. He takes a long drag, exhaling the smoke slowly before looking at you with a satisfied smile.
"That was fun," he says, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "But we should probably head home now." He sets you down gently, taking your hand in his. "I have other plans for you tonight, baby."
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killerlookz · 1 year ago
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Dirty Dancing | Joost Klein (Groupie Love Series)
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Part II of the Groupie Love Series starts immediately after part I
description: joost klein x groupie!f! reader- following their hookup, Joost learns that reader will be in Belgium for one more day and decides to invite her out clubbing, wanting to see her once more.
warnings: 18+ NSFW, MDNI, semi-public sex (i guess technically), unprotected P in V, drunk-ish sex... do not post my work to other social medias, this fic contains rpf and has been tagged as such, do not continue if that makes you uncomfortable, and please block the rpf tag
word count: 4870
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"Did you enjoy the show tonight?"
You inhale, allowing the smell of Joost's burning cigarette to enter your lungs,
"I think I enjoyed a little more than the show," Your eyelids hang low, your words are slow, almost sloppy- as if you had just a little too much to drink.
A knowing smirk continues to linger on Joost's face, "Really, did you the show?"
"I wouldn't have traveled to three different countries to see you if I hadn't been enjoying myself." You tilt your head to the side, taking in his features- he was the sort of perfect that kind of hurt to look at, each of his features in perfect harmony with one eachother, "I didn't travel all this way just to try to sleep with you- but tonight certainly was a pleasant surprise."
"You make it sound like trying to sleep with me was part of your plan,"
"And could you blame me if it was?"
Joost leans back on the couch, the satisfied look on his face making it all too obvious how much he's enjoying your praise. and the way he moves makes you wince- still inside you, your eyes shut tight, and your muscles clench.
"Hmmsorry sweetie," He hums, placing his free hand on your thigh, beginning to rub gentle circles into the supple flesh. His delicate touch made you want to collapse into him- to melt into his chest and make this night much more romantic than either of you had anticipated. But you stay still, instead waiting intently for him to speak again, "How long are you in Belgium for?"
"Two days." You shrug, responding matter-of-factly.
"Good," A smile creeps on his face as he lifts his cigarette back up to his lips, "I'd like to see you again." He takes a drag, and you watch as his chest rises with his inhale, glistening with a fine layer of sweat. He turns his head to the side, his sharpened jawbone only becoming more pronounced as he lifts his head up to exhale- careful not to blow the smoke towards you.
He'd like to see you again
You attempt to bite back your excitement, bottom lip tucked under your teeth as he continues.
"We're going to a club not too far away tomorrow night, and I think you should come." He spoke so nonchalantly like you were just supposed to know who "we" referred to, or really even know the area you were in.
"Sounds..." The word lingers on your tongue as you search for the proper adjective, "Fun." You smile, careful not to give too much away, attempting to stay as cool about the situation as he was, "But I'm staying here with a friend, is it alright if she comes with me?"
"As long as you're there," Joost squeezes your thigh where his hand had been resting. His small move gets a breath stuck in your throat and you swallow, attempting to adjust your breathing back to normal without him noticing.
You only nod in response, affirming you would indeed be there.
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Your body grows hot the moment you step into the crowded club. The music boomed from the speakers that filled the venue, the bass so loud you could feel yourself vibrating.
"Do you know where he's supposed to be?" Your friend leans in, raising her voice to be heard over the music.
"No," You pause, taking a second to scan the crowd of people that filled the club. It was a little hard to see, the only lights illuminating the dark space were scattered LEDs that cast the place in a glow of various colors, "He just said what time he'd be here." You couldn't find him in your quick scan of the place, "I think I'll just let him find me." After all, he had been the one to invite you out, so you figured it should be on him to seek you out.
"Fine," She shrugs, "But we're drinking in the meantime." She grabs you by the wrist, pulling you to the crowded bar. The two of you push past the sea of sweaty bodies on the dance floor, adrenaline rushing your veins as you realize just how packed the club is- you were always one to jump at the chance to party.
Practically leaning over the bar, your friend outstretches her hand to flag down the bartender. You continue to scan the area surrounding you while she yells her order- where was he? You worried that maybe he bailed, or you accidentally got the wrong address.
However- your worries quickly subsided as the bartender placed the two rounds of shots your friend had ordered for the both of you down. You don't bother to ask what she ordered, at the end of the day, it all went down the same.
You smile down at the glass, wrapping two fingers around it before clinking it against the glass your friend held.
"Bottoms up," She smirks.
The liquid slides down your tongue, warming your esophagus and spreading to your stomach. Goosebumps form atop your skin as you try to stop yourself from wincing at the way the alcohol bitterly burns at your tongue. Before you let the unpleasant sensation subside, you're already throwing back the second shot.
You exhale as you tap the glass down on the bar,
"Another round?" You smile.
Your friend holds a single finger up to you, as to tell you to wait, before she mimics you, downing her second shot. Her face crinkles as she slams the glass down with a thump.
"Give me a second, you're better at this than me," She shakes her head, attempting to rid herself of the taste.
Suddenly her eyes widen, and you feel someone grab your hand. The initial shock makes you jump, quickly flipping your head to see who it is.
"I've been looking for you," It was Joost, a smile on his face as he brought your hand further up, placing a kiss to your knuckles. The small gesture makes your face grow hot, and you're unable to control the small giggles that fall out of your mouth as he gently sets your hand down.
"Hi," You grin, studying his face. He looks much more put together tonight than yesterday, seeing as the night had just begun. Your eyes trail down from his face, looking down towards his neck, the surface above his Lola Bunny tattoo covered in splotches of red and purple- marks caused by your mouth and you briefly wondered if things would escalate between you again tonight.
"Hello," The smile lingers on his face as his eyes flick to your friend, "And who is this?"
"Nora," She smiles back.
"I'm Joost!" He exclaims, excited to introduce himself to someone new.
"Oh, I know," She nods
"We were just about to do another round of shots, care to do one with us?" Your eyelids flutter as the question leaves your mouth, a quiet beg for him to say yes.
"Ja!" He nods, enthusiastic at the prospect of getting another drink in his system. "What are we drinking?"
You turn around, a motion to tell your friend to answer the question,
"Oh-uh," Nora furrows her brows, "Whatever the house vodka is- I don't know, something cheap."
"Works for me," Joost shrugs before leaning down to you, lightly grazing your arm with his palm as he goes to talk into your ear, "Your drinks are on me after this one though."
You bite your lip, trying to stifle the giggle that was about to escape you at the feeling of Joost's breath against your neck.
"Works for me," You repeat his words back to him.
The small shared moment is quickly broken by the bartender placing another round of shots in front of the now three of you. Joost is the first to take a glass, raising it to the rest of you to follow,
"Proost!" (cheers) He just about yells, and you and Nora minic, clinking your glasses together before downing the liquid.
Swallowing down the liquor didn't get much easier for you- but you knew you were at the point where you would start feeling it a little. Joost seemed unaffected, swiftly putting down the glass without as much as a flinch-like he was only drinking water.
Joost raises his voice over the music, "I'd like to introduce you two to my friends, ja?"
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Sitting at a section in the back you watch on as Joost and one of his friends dance around, in front of you, screaming the words to whatever Dutch song that had been booming through the club.
Nora had wandered off somewhere, having hit it off with some girl who had offered to buy her a drink.
"What?" Joost asks, "You don't dance?" He teases, a smirk pulling at his lip.
"Says who?" You flick your gaze up to him
"Says you who's been sitting here just staring at me for the last twenty minutes."
"Maybe I like staring at you."
He rolls his eyes, outstretching a hand for you to grab so he can stand you up. You oblige, his strong tattooed hand wrapping around your own as he tugs at your arm. He barely gives you enough time to stand up before he's pulling you off to the dancefloor.
The enthusiasm with which he moved was kind of adorable you couldn't lie, the smile plastered on his face, drink in hand as he danced around you- it was a little like he was in his own world, like he didn't care one bit about the other people around him.
As he's behind you he slips his hands to your waist, pulling your back to his chest. He sways you from side to side in time with the music, and you eventually get into the groove of it, throwing your head back to rest by his shoulder.
Despite the position you were in, the movements between the two of you remained fairly chaste for the time being. After a few minutes, Joost lowered his head to rest his chin on your shoulder, leaning to speak in your ear,
"Stay here, I'm gonna get us another round of drinks." He finished his sentence with a light peck to your temple before hurrying off to the bar.
The small kiss left you feeling hot- and wanting more, leading you to decide to really put the moves on Joost when he got back.
You keep to yourself for the time being, continuing to feel the music as the alcohol slowly sweeps away your inhibitions.
It wasn't long however until Joost came back, holding two glasses full of a dark liquid. You didn't need to ask- in the under an hour that you had been here you'd quickly become accustomed to Joost and his friend's affinity for Bacardi and Coke- even having given the drink some dumb name you couldn't remember.
He hands you the glass with a grin, eager to get back to you.
"Thank you," You stand up on your toes, reaching to give Joost a kiss on the cheek as a show of your gratitude. You're able to suck down about a quarter of the drink before wincing, a soft chuckle leaving Joost's mouth at the way your face twists. It was evident he was much better at holding his liquor than you were.
Soon enough you had found yourself once again with your back pressed against Joost's chest, his free arm wrapped around your waist. However, things felt a lot less wholesome this time- the way your hips circled with intent with your ass pressed against his crotch. You tipped your head back, eager to get a look at him as the pair of you danced with one another. As you stared up at him there was no longer a goofy smile plastered on his face, rather he was staring back down at you, his eyes lit with a familiar lust.
You're taken out of your thoughts with a gasp as you feel someone knock into you, before a liquid hits your chest, making you fling your head up from where it had laid against Joost. Above you stood a man, taller than you but shorter than Joost, clearly hammered holding a half-emptied beer in his hand.
"Kom op, kijk uit waar je loopt!" (come on man, watch where you're going) Joost's arm leaves your waist as he throws up his hand, practically scolding the man for knocking into you.
There's a sheepish look drawn upon the man's face as he holds up a hand in defense, A slurred, "Uhsorry," leaves his mouth before quickly walking away.
Joost grabs at your waist to motion you to turn to face him,
He mutters something in Dutch, shaking his head in annoyance before returning his full attention to you, eyeing the drops of beer that had been spilled all over your front, "I'm sorry, I'll get that," his arm slipping around your waist, lowering his head, making you suck in a breath as his tongue meets your skin, licking at the liquid that sat on the exposed flesh of your cleavage.
You can't help but tip your head back to allow him better access, the small licks at your chest to help clean you up soon turning into small kisses up the side of your neck. You weren't sure how much longer you could keep this up before you were begging him to take you back to his hotel room.
"What's got your pulse so quick, liefje?" He picks his head up from your neck, his lips curved in a knowing smile. Damn him.
"I didn't know you were a doctor," You raise an eyebrow, challenging his flirting.
"Yeah," He chuckles, "Maybe you should let me give you a physical exam." He gives you an overexaggerated wink, aware of the corniness of the line.
You bite your tongue, shaking your head as you slide your free hand up his chest before letting it rest on his shoulder. He's quick to pull you back to him, his hand now trailing below your waist, lightly grazing your ass.
"So beautiful tonight," His eyes trail you up and down, taking note of your entire body and just how little what you had been wearing left to his imagination.
"Had to dress up, I'm supposed to be meeting someone special here tonight." Your words are passive, teasing.
"Oh yeah?" He raises an eyebrow, his grip tightening on where his hand laid on your ass, "Must be a lucky guy."
"Mhm," You hum, though you doubt he can hear it over the music, "Kind of hoping he'd rather take this outfit off of me, though."
Joost tilts his head forward, his lips brushing your ear,
"Well- I can't speak for this someone special, but I can tell you I'd love nothing more." His voice is low and seductive but his proximity to you makes his words clear even with the sound of the club around you.
You push yourself forward, grinding your hips against the buckle of his belt.
"Maybe that can be arranged," You place a small kiss to his neck before biting at his earlobe.
You feel the tip of Joost's hands grabbing at the hem of your skirt, pulling it up slightly- had you not been so desperate for him by this point you would have slapped his hand, teasingly chastizing him for being so dirty, but you let him continue. He had only pulled your skirt up a little just barely exposing some of your ass before he palmed at the supple flesh, fingers trailing towards your inner thighs.
Your back arches into his touch, forcing your chests even closer together. Your movement forces his fingers to just barely graze the crotch of your panties, his hand now fully under your skirt. A whispered, "Fuck," leaves your mouth at his gentle touch. God this all felt so dirty.
With his head still lowered by your neck, Joost began kissing lightly, his hand not leaving from where it pressed between your thighs. You attempt to play off the subtle movement of your hips as if you're swaying to the beat, though it's all a desperate attempt to feel some friction against Joost's hand.
Your body feels tense, your arousal becoming pent up as Joost continues to kiss at your neck. You're so wrapped up in the moment you nearly forget there's an entire crowd around you, but you were sure no one was exactly interested in what had been going on between you two.
Some more mumbled curses fall from your lips before Joost looks up from where his head had been buried in your neck, his hand falling from your thighs. You pout at the lack of contact.
"Come on," His tone is almost aggressive as he pulls your hand, leading towards the back of the club. He's determined as he pushes through the crowd, bringing you to the bathroom, its small, and dark, a singular light illuminating the tiny room over the sink.
Joost just about rips the drink from your hand, slamming both of your glasses onto the skin counter before returning to you. You share a knowing glance between the two of you, before he pushes you against the tiled wall, his lips devouring yours in a hungry kiss.
It isn't long before he's feeling you up, his hands moving up and down your sides, eager just to have you in his grasp.
His hands trail down to your skirt, lifting the fabric up to your waist before he nudges his knee in between your legs, urging you to part them for him and you're quick to oblige. As soon as your legs are opened, just a little he's reaching for the fabric of your panties, pulling them to the side.
The tip of his pointer finger lightly brushes your clit, forcing you to exhale a light whimper between kisses. He doesn't waste too much time teasing you, an unlocked club restroom was not exactly the ideal place for long, drawn-out lovemaking. Instead, he presses harder, drawing circles against your swollen bundle of nerves.
The feeling of his fingers mixed with his rough kisses is absolutely heavenly. His fingers trail a little further back, collecting your slick before returning to your clit, and you gasp at his fluid motions.
"I've barely touched you," He muses, his lips parting from yours for an instant. You didn't have it in you to feel ashamed for how wet you had grown in such a short amount of time.
"Need you," You mumble
"C'mon, you've got me," Joost pulls away from you completely, leaving you gasping as he steps away. He cocks his head, motioning you towards the sink to command you to stand over there.
You nod, taking a few steps to the side, meeting the sink's counter, and you stare at yourself in the mirror before flicking your eyes to Joost's reflection as he walks over to you.
He places a hand on your upper back, urging you to bend over the sink. You bite your lip, slowly leaning forward, resting your elbows and forearms on the counter.
Joost's hand trails down your back, to your ass, giving it a light slap before squeezing tightly, the feeling of his fingernails pushing into your flesh making a small yelp leave your mouth.
But his hand quickly drops, and you can hear the metal clinking of his belt coming undone. The simple sound fills you with excitement, a tightness growing in your lower stomach at what you know what was going to happen next.
You watch intently in the mirror as he pulls down his pants and underwear to just about his mid-thighs, but you can't see much past that with you being in front of him. But you can certainly feel as his hardened cock springs loose from the confines of his clothes, the tip grazing your upper thigh.
He lightly kicks the inside of both your feet, spreading your legs a little further as he strokes his cock behind you. A hand comes to your waist, and Joost leans forward,
"Ready for me schatje?" He grumbles into your ear.
You can't do much in the way of biting your lip and nodding, you had been more than ready.
He lets out a deep exhale as you feel the tip of his cock graze your puffy folds. His free hand coming to your upper thigh to spread you open for him. Gently, he's pushing himself into you, your eyes shutting tight as you have to readjust to his size. You take in the familiar stretch as he bottoms out in you, pausing for a moment before pulling out so just the head stays inside you. He continued these slow, teasing motions until it was almost painful how bad you needed him.
"Please," You whimper out, your head hanging low.
He doesn't make you beg much further before both of his hands are on your waist, forcing you down onto him as he thrusts into you at a faster pace now. The small room echoes with the dirty sounds of each thrust in and out.
He's much more aggressive than he had been last night- but you couldn't complain, not at the sensation of his cock hammering deep inside you. A sharp moan leaves your lips with each of his movements.
Oddly enough, knowing that someone could walk in at any time and catch what the two of you were doing only added to the arousal you felt. You were sure at this point if Joost insisted on fucking you in front of an audience you'd probably let him.
Some praises in Dutch leave Joost's mouth that you can't quite understand, but they make you feel like you're melting nonetheless. A hand snakes up your side to your neck, lightly gripping at your throat as he continues drilling into you.
"Look at yourself, liefje." He grunts, but you barely have the strength to pick your head up from where it hangs. He sighs, his hand loosening from your throat to your chin, forcing you to look up into the mirror.
You can't help but look at Joost instead, biting his lip, face contorting with each forward thrust. Watching Joost as he fucked into you was what was beginning to send you over the edge, your legs starting to tremble beneath you, your cunt beginning to spasm around the length of his cock.
"i-I'm close," You stutter, feeling the tightness inside you beginning to reach a shattering point.
"That's oka-fuck- cum for me,"
It doesn't take you long for you to obey his words, your orgasm smacking into you with a force you fear may knock you out. Joost's hand leaves your chin, instead, he reaches down to your clit, rubbing the swollen bud to help you through your orgasm.
The stimulation is enough to make you scream while your pussy clenches, spilling your release onto Joost's cock.
Your orgasm, however, did not deter Joost from maintaining the same pace he'd been fucking you at. Your body slumped over the sink counter while he continued to thrust into you at whatever speed felt right to him, his finger still drawing harsh circles to your clit.
A few tears slip down your cheeks due to the overstimulation, overwhelmed with an intense amount of pleasure that you weren't sure you had ever experienced before.
"Just a little longer," Joost assures, his breath losing a pace as his thrusting becomes wilder and more sloppy.
Soon enough he's spilling into you, his warm seed coating your walls with an animalistic groan. His head falls back as he fucks into you a few more times before finally stopping.
He's slow to pull out of you, leaving you whining as you feel the full length of his cock exit you once more. But as soon as he's out he's quick to pull up your panties, his release slowly dripping out of your cunt onto the crotch of the fabric.
You're still slumped over the sink as Joost buckles his belt before pulling down your skirt to cover you.
"Fuck," He grunts, "I need a smoke."
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By the time you had found yourself back in Joost's hotel room, you had lost track of how many drinks you'd had that night. The warmly lit room felt like it had been spinning as you laid back against the thick comforter of the hotel bed. Uncomfortable was certainly an accurate word to describe how you had been feeling. Far too drunk, makeup smudged on your face, your clothes too tight on your body. You groaned as you shut your eyes, cursing yourself for not knowing your limits.
You heard a chuckle from somewhere beside you, followed by the balcony door closing. A mild scent of cigarette smoke filled the air, and you had figured Joost had just gotten back inside from smoking another cigarette.
"I think it's time for someone to go to bed," He chuckles once more
"I'll be able to sleep once the room stops spinning," You moan, rolling onto your side.
"Let me get you something to wear."
You can hear Joost shuffling around, unzipping a suitcase and digging through clothes.
"C'mon," He says a few minutes later, his hand grazing your calf, "I'll help you get changed."
Your eyes flutter open, rolling back onto your back to look at him. You sigh,
"Can't get up."
"That's okay," He laughs, You can tell by the look on his face that he's drunk too, the way his eyelids hang, and his cheeks glow a pretty shade of pink- but he's clearly more coherent than you are despite having drank more than you did. He places a gentle hand on your thigh, "Can I take your skirt off?" There's no hint of sensuality in his voice, clear he just wants to help you get into something more comfortable.
You grumble out a yes in response, resulting in Joost pulling the skirt down the length of your legs,
"Are you comfortable in these?" His finger ghosts over the waistband of your underwear.
You shake your head no.
"Can I take them off?"
Yes.
Your panties follow your skirt, falling in a pile at the foot of the bed. Your top was the next to go, your lashes fluttering as your eyes opened at the feeling of Joost's hands brushing your stomach, lightly tickling you.
"Sorry," Joost grins, looking down at you as he lifts your top over your head.
The cold hotel blows onto you and you're suddenly aware of just how exposed you are. Embarrassed, you roll over to face away from Joost, not wanting to make any further eye contact with him while being so naked.
"No need to be embarrassed, schatje," He says sweetly- it was like he could read your mind, his palm rubbing against your back to comfort you. "You need me to get you dressed,"
You mumble out a no in response, feeling bad for how much he had already helped you thus far.
"Okay, here you go." You hear Joost drop the clothes he had gotten for you onto the bed, prompting you to roll over to put them on.
A smile instinctively formed at the first article of clothing you saw, one you had recognized. He had given you a pair of his boxers to wear- the ones with his name embroidered onto the waistband. It seemed a strangely intimate move, but you had figured it was probably the first thing he had pulled from his suitcase- not daring to see it as anything past that.
You quickly slip on the clothes he had given you, pulling a simple white t-shirt over your head before eagerly getting back into bed. You crawled further up the length of the bed, grabbing the comforter from its nicely made position, and getting under it.
Laying on your back, your eyelids threatening to close completely any second, you watch as Joost strips down to his underwear, tossing his discarded clothes somewhere in the room.
The bed dips as Joost climbs in next to you, quickly shutting off the lamp on the bedside table as he does so.
Had you been sober you probably would have kept the distance between the two of you, only using Joost's bed as a place to sleep and not as an excuse to get close to him- but something in your drunk mind almost made you instinctively turn onto the side and snuggle into him.
He didn't seem to mind, actually, as your cheek nuzzled into his bare chest. He wrapped an arm around your back, pulling you a little tighter to him, affirming you hadn't done anything wrong by attempting to cuddle up to him.
You feel yourself drifting off, the subtle bumps of his heartbeat gently lulling you off to sleep as your breathing slows. Joost must have caught how quickly you seemed to be dozing off, humming contently before speaking softly,
"Slaap lekker," He sighs, the last thing you remember before finally being consumed by sleep is Joost pressing his lips to the crown of your head in a soft kiss.
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rebelwrites · 11 months ago
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Only Over When We Are Sober
Jax Teller x Reader
Jax Teller Masterlist || Main Masterlist
Hello I know it has been a while 🥺 not sure if people still remember me but this song has been playing over and over in my mind along with this story. This isn’t me coming back to writing but this story was just hard to keep contained. Hope you enjoy ❤️
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Jax stared at the ceiling, his head was spinning, the headache was starting to take over. It wasn’t the first time he woke up with a hangover, and just like all the times before the smell of your perfume was invading his senses.
He slowly started to open his eyes, letting himself adjust to the brightness of the dorm room, he always cursed himself for never fixing the blind. Reaching out he felt nothing but emptiness, it was the same feeling every time, it had become expected. Yet with each time it caused his chest to tighten, feeling his heart weigh heavy. Finally he propped himself up so he was leaning against the headboard before pulling a smoke to his lips. It was as if he was on autopilot, in a way he was, this was a routine he had gotten used to over the last six months.
Dropping his gaze he took a long drag of the cigarette, everywhere he looked there were reminders of you, the marks on the pillow case from you finally falling asleep with a full face of makeup on to the lonely hair tie that was currently sitting on the bedside table. He knew the two of you were a toxic mix but every weekend you both partook in the dance that had become so familiar. It had been over a year since you broke up but there was a pull, like moths to the flame you couldn’t stay away from each other.
The only time you stayed broken up was when you were both sober.
He knew you would have been long gone by now, it was always the same come morning. You would bolt from his dorm, ignoring everyone as you scurried out of the club house, retreating to the safety of your car. It was something he hated, you were the love of his life but for whatever reason the fire between the two of you burnt bright and strong and in turn caused you both to get burned.
“Thought you two had called it quits?” Gemma asked, appearing in the doorway holding a fresh mug of coffee for her son.
“Same old story,” the blonde shrugged, taking another drag of the cigarette, “we never believe it’s truly goodbye, always wanting closure. I guess that’s what you get when we have the same friends and run with the same crowds.”
Gemma could see the pain that her son felt, it was something that no matter how hard he tried to hide, his eyes told the whole story. Every Sunday morning the sparkle in his baby blue eyes had been extinguished when the harsh reality that the love of his life wasn’t his anymore came crashing down around him.
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For the last month he had found himself looking forward to a Friday and Saturday night when the party would be in full swing. And tonight was no different.
He slipped onto the usual stool at the bar, lit a cigarette between his fingers and a bottle of whiskey sat in front of him, all whilst his eyes never moved from the clock behind the bar. With each second that passed he felt his heart rate double waiting for seven pm to strike.
Taking a deep breath you placed your hand on the cold metal door that led you down one path, the one that ended up with you tangled in Jax’s sheets even though you swear every week was the last. You just needed to move on but how could you when that boy was the only one to hold your heart.
Pushing the heavy door open, it felt like there was no one else in the room apart from you and Jax. Part of you hated that he still had such a hold over you.
Everything happened like it normally did, you’d ignore him at first, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t feel his gaze burning into your soul. You know that within the next hour you would be sharing shots and the dance would begin.
Soon enough you found yourself sliding onto the empty stool next to him, taking the lit cigarette from his fingers taking a long drag, before flipping over the shot glasses.
“I hate you, Teller,” you huffed, narrowing your eyes at him as you knocked the shot back.
“Ditto,” he hummed, holding his shot glass up in the air before following your actions, emptying the small glass before slamming it down on the bar top.
Three shots. That’s all it took for the “I hate you” turned into the “I miss you”.
Everyone thought it was over between the two of you, and for the most part it was but only when there wasn’t alcohol coursing through your veins.
“If this is love Jax then we are fucking bad at it,” you huffed, pouring two more shots of the amber liquid.
He half smiled, reaching out letting his hand settle on your bare thigh, his fingers slowly stroking your skin causing the hem of your dress to rise a little. Even now his touch still caused sparks to erupt across your skin, he left a fire in his wake and no one could compare to Jackson Teller.
Neither of you shared many words, both afraid that if you did speak then this unspoken agreement would end. You knew it probably should but you just couldn’t bring yourself to call quits on the man that held your heart in his hand and you knew you held his in yours.
The scowls quickly turned into soft smiles, touches started to linger, the sound of laughter cocooned the both of you and the level in the bottle was getting lower.
Everyone, including the crow eaters, knew to leave the two of you alone, as the clock ticked on the closer you and Jax got. You had moved from the bar to one of the booths and were now straddling him, both hands on the side of his face, fingers gently running through his beard.
No words were spoken, you were both getting lost in each other's eyes. The smirk on his face was growing, the feeling of his arms wrapped around the one person he would lay his life on the line for without a second thought. He took a deep breath, letting his gaze flick between your eyes and your lips, everything was in slow motion as you edged close to him, not stopping until your lips touched causing fireworks to ignite deep in both of your souls.
In one swift motion Jax adjusted his grip, pushing himself to his feet all whilst not pulling away from the kiss. Maneuvering his way through the clubhouse, he savored this moment because for the next two nights the world would feel right again with you in his arms.
Even though come Sunday morning, he knew the cycle would start all over again, because when it came to you and Jax it was only over when you were both sober.
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@chibsytelford @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @pumpkin-spice-hate @talicat713 @band--psycho @little-diable @i-love-scott-mccall @fourthwallhateclub @withmyteeth @theysayitscrazy @rosieposie0624 @choochoo284 @meteora-fc @beeroses @princess76179 @darklydeliciousdesires @the-jer-bear @princess76179 @extraneousred @youflickedtooharddamnit @lmao-liz @babypink224221 @daddysgirl2857 @bravo-four-seal-team @garbinge @pedrohoe04 @littlekittymeow @nichia88-blog @zozebo
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pollyypocket · 9 months ago
Text
𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓
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𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : bobby skeetz x fem!reader
𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : Bobby is leaving to tour America with his band Inhaler, but he's unsure if he should let her go... and she's unsure if he wants this.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 : fighting, smoking.
Bobby rested his elbows on his shared balcony, cigarette in one hand the other rested under his chin, admiring the view from his shared apartment, when he suddenly felt hands go around his waist and a head resting on his back.
"What are you thinking abouttt?" he perked up at the sound of his girlfriends voice. "Nothing Y/N, just excited for tourrr" in a serious tone as he took another drag of his cigarette. You move to stand next to him, arms resting in the same position trying to admire what he's looking at. "What about tourrrr are you excited for" taking his cigarette placing it between your lips. "You know... the people, finding new places, being with the boys" "Are you going to miss meee?" his head turned towards yours taking in every aspect of your face. He loved how your eyes glowed in the dark, how graceful you were with every movement you did. "Yeah" he looked down fiddling with his fingers.
At this point you realised he wasn't giving you the same energy back. This time you returned the favour and admired his features "Bobby, what's wrong?"
He couldn't bare to look at you, he's been on tour before and it's been fine... has he had a fight with one of the boys? has it been cancelled? so many thoughts ran through your head but not what came out of his mouth next.
"I think we should break up" he finally met your eyes, he looked so drained and broken. "I'm sorry. What!" You looked at him like he was crazy and a scoff came out of your mouth "You're joking" taking another drag of the cigarette staring back into the distance. All he could do was run his hands down his face out of stress.
"No. NO! Bobby we aren't breaking up." "You can't tell me what to do!" this time he had anger in his voice. "I know I can't but why; tell me you're joking right..." your voice cracked unable to speak properly. The boy you've loved for years breaking your heart in your shared apartment. The boy who you grew up with. The boy who you supported no matter what. This tour wasn't any different...
"Just tell me why... please." he sighed refusing to make eye contact with you "Because-" "Because what" "I'm going away for a long time and a whole different country, i just can't do it anymore, being away from you, if you aren't in my life it wont hurt" Your jaw was on the floor, tears pricked in your eyes.
"Robert... You have been away from periods of times all the time. This is your job. I haven't ever stopped you from doing it, you've never stopped me from achieving anything! Your being stupid, did this whole relationship mean nothing to you at all..."
He had tears rolling down his face at this point as well, he knew he messed up, he knew those words should have never of come out of his mouth.
"Well... If you're gonna break my heart you better smash it to pieces cause I'm not gonna need it as much as i do right now. I love you, and you have messed it all up"
"Come along then, join us" "NO! NO BOBBY, WE'RE DONE"
Soon enough you stamped on the cigarette and walked out of your shared apartment knowing he would of left of tour in the morning meaning you can pack your stuff tomorrow...
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d1s1ntegrated · 1 year ago
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i’ve been listening to this song on repeat and can’t get shiggy out of my head. can you please write something along these lines, cause oh my god would this be so hot🥵
porn star dancing shigaraki pov x stripper reader
summary: dabi drags shigaraki to a "titty bar" for his 21st birthday, because "being a virgin at 21 is like a dog who's never had a biscuit". 
cw: quirkless au! dabi and shiggy are best friends, drinking, strip club setting, shiggy's pov, alt!reader, oral virginity loss, language, nudity, oral (male rec), groping, whining, pining, slightsub!tomura, virgin!tomura, slightlydom!reader, teasing, private lap dance, happy ending lol, handjob, headshoving, dirty talk, basically just shiggy being an epic simp loser. wc: ~4230 words
this is from tomura's pov. i felt it would convey his sluttiness best :)
·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚  ��*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*·̩̩̥͙
"GET OFF THE GAME, DUMBASS. WE'RE GOING OUT". dabi's voice shouts from down the hall. i sigh and roll my eyes, yanking my headset off my head. usually, i'd ignore him, but i knew he wouldn't leave me alone today. i tried not to make a big deal about it, but he's been making a stink about my birthday for months now, as if drinking legally at a bar would feel any different than drinking illegally in my room. but, hell, if it gets him to shut up, i guess.
i groan and stretch myself out of my gaming chair, giving my prized possession a solemn goodbye, and trod out of my room. dabi is waiting in the hallway, leaning against the wall. "there you are, freak. you ready to go get wasted with a bunch of topless bitches?" he looks me up and down, smiling sadistically. i shrug, and he pats my shoulder.
"come on, lets get trashed." i know i can't argue with him, so i follow him out the door, thinking about how badly i'd rather go back to my room and play league. whatever.
---------------------------------------------------- the club is sketchy, to say the least. a dark grey exterior with no windows, just one neon sign above that reads "the silk iris" in flashy pink lettering. at least it's not named some weird shit like "vixen den".
i suck air in through my teeth as dabi lights a cigarette next to me. "can we go home?" i say miserably next to him. he chuckles, taking a long drag.
"fuck no, shigs. we're goin' in, and i'm gonna tell those pretty girlies in there that it's your birthday" he flashes his teeth at me and instead of a smile, i see a predator baring its fangs in warning. fuck my life. i try to beg him not to, but he's unreceptive.
"please, dabi, i'll go in, fine, but dont tell them shit, please" i clasp my hands together and shake them at him, as if im praying. but if dabi was a god, he was a cruel and evil one, who doesn't answer prayers.
"fine fine, shigaraki. i'll be nice, i promise." he curls his lips and tosses the finished cigarette to the ground, crushing the filter under his boot. he grabs my shoulder and guides me with an iron grip to the door. "lets go!" he slaps my back hard and i grimace. no going back now.
the door pushes open and immediately, the smell of heavy smoke and cheap cologne rushes my sinuses. theres another door between the club and the entrance, and a part of me wishes i could just sit in the lobby all night. but dabi whips his id out, and i reluctantly follow. we flash them at the bouncer, who nods and grins wide when he sees mine. "happy birthday man. have fun". his voice is gruff and deep, his body towering over mine. i force a slight smile, and nod "thanks" before begrudgingly going through the door.
the lights are low, thank god. deep reds and purples accent the darkly-painted walls, and the carpet is patterned with some vampiric-looking textile, and i study it intently. the music is so loud, the bass shakes my eardrums, and i groan. if i'm gonna be here all night, i'm gonna need a drink. dabi knows this already, and he drags me over to the bar and nods to an empty stool. i slink onto the worn leather and he yanks my hood off my head before he sits next to me. i grumble but he ignores me, and flags down the bartender.
a tall, slender girl in a very tiny bikini top struts over, big pearly smile on her face. her red hair curls gently around her face, and she greets us with a very peppy voice. "hi boys! what can i get for ya?"
dabi eyes the girl up and down and leans back in his seat a bit, giant smirk plastered to his face. his piercings tug at his lips as he answers, "hey doll. it's actually my buddy's birthday today," he claps my shoulder again and i shrink into myself, "what do you recommend?"
the girl claps her hands together and jumps a bit. "happy birthday sweetheart!" those teeth smile at me again, somehow wider than last time. she turns back to dabi and asks, "is this his first time?"
dabi answers with a bellowing laugh, "ohhh yeah. shig's gonna turn into a man tonight" he nudges me and i force out a laugh.
"well, shig," the bartender drags my name out sleazily, "i have just the thing for you." she trots away from us for a few moments, returning with a shot glass full of a bright green substance. "you like fruity drinks?" she asks and nods at me. i shrug and reply "i'm not sure". she lets out a high-pitched giggle and looks to dabi.
"and for you?""whatever's on tap, sweetheart. and a shot of jameson." his voice is low and he's still grinning. she returns half a second later with a tall beer glass, and a little shot of whiskey. she nods at us and says as she tends to another customer now, "ill start a tab for you boys."
i hesitantly pick up the shot glass and dabi picks his up with me. he raises his brows and laughs. "take the shot, pussy". he clinks his glass against mine and i take a deep breath as we take the first shot. it goes down surprisingly easy, much easier than the cheap whiskeys and vodkas i'm used to. its...actually fucking delicious. the bartender notices us and claps. she brings me another one a minute later and i take it fearlessly, the liquid shooting down to my core, warming me up. "thats a green tea shot, love. just in case you wanna order some more" she winks at me as she slides another shot to dabi, "my shift ends in about 5 minutes, so you'll have to order them yourself from now on! happy birthday, sweetie!" i smile at her, feeling my nerves slowly melting away. i thank her and turn to dabi.
"this isn't so bad" i give him a thumbs-up, and he returns it. he picks up the tiny glass and shoots it back, chasing it with the remainder of his beer. he blinks away the burn and shakes his head. "bartender was cute, eh?" he stifles a belch into his fist and claps my back again. "lets go, emo boy." i slide off the stool and follow him.
he leads me to a couple of seats near the stage. i did my best to avoid looking before, but now it was right in front of me. a couple of girls, about six or seven, were twirling around poles, walking up and down the stage, as men greedily shove their hands to touch them, stroke their legs, grab their asses. some shove dollar bills into their waistbands, others hand them bigger bills: tens, twenties, even some fifties. i scoff and take a seat next to dabi, who's already got his wallet out. he hands me a wad of ones, and i sigh.
"i'm not gonna shove my hands into some poor girls panties," i say to him. he glares at me and rolls his eyes. "the more you shove in there, the closer you get to having it, shig. its like buying pussy, bro. come on, just watch." he stands and leans over the stage as a short blonde crawls over, and he beckons her with a finger. he slides his hand over her barely-clothed tits and shoves a couple bills between them. she blows a kiss at him and stands, spinning around a pole and waving at a few of the men before the girls rotate. this goes on for a few minutes, and i feel myself growing uncomfortable with myself.
i grit my teeth and stand next to dabi, and do my best to entice one of the girls over to me. however, once the girl comes over to me, i panic, and end up just handing her a few of the bills in my hand. i wave and immediately smack myself in the face. stupid idiot, what the fuck was that? dabi notices my folly and laughs at me and shakes his head.
"you dumbass, what the hell was THAT?" he raises his voice over the music and i purse my lips.
"i dont know" i say quietly. my head is spinning from the alcohol. i groan and sit back in my seat, afraid to embarrass myself further. suddenly, the music quiets down, and a voice rings through the speaker, announcing a solo act. "please welcome the beautiful, the terrifying, the eat-your-heart-out....calypso!" the group of men cheer as they hear the name. i look confused as the lights switch to a deep sanguine red, and the music switches over from the bass-boosted r&b and rap to metal. a few of the men get up and go to the bar, but watch as they order drinks.
dabi gets up and i call out for him, but he raises a hand and says, "im getting drinks, dude chill! you'll be fine for two minutes!!" the lights brighten again as a girl comes onto the stage. she, like the others, is dressed scantily, but...differently. my eyes widen as she approaches further. she grabs one of the poles and swings her leg around it, and i can't peel my eyes away. her thigh grips the metal, her fishnets so tight against her, i can see the soft skin poking through the holes. the material stretches thin over her ass, which is plump, with only a tiny g-string to cover it. she drops to the floor and lays on her back, her tits spreading in the top as men grab at her, and she slaps them away. they cheer and lay the bills onto the stage, and she gradually grabs the money, shoving it down her top herself.
dabi returns and hands me another shot. i swiftly take it, not taking my eyes off the dancer on the stage. she wraps her hands around another pole and spins a few times before dropping back down, onto her knees this time. i bite my lip and dabi nudges me with his elbow.
"you like that one, shiggy?" he shouts over the heavy guitar solo. i nod slowly and watch her intently. he chuckles beside me and nods. calypso gets to the edge of the stage and i smack the rest of the ones i have in my hand right next to her tall, chunky boots. she notices me and stares down at me and licks her lips, and i feel myself melt. she bends over slowly and grabs the cash, and drags her long fingernail up my neck and jaw. i gulp as she winks at me and whispers something, but i cant hear her over the music.
i feel myself twitch in my pants. i smile weakly up at her and she turns away, collecting the rest of the money on the wooden floor. she then slowly grabs one of the strings of her top and pulls it, slowly unraveling the knot. she spins around as she pulls the top off completely, and tosses it haphazardly in my direction. i scramble up from my seat and grasp at it, unable to control my impulses. i greedily fist it and shove it into my hoodie pocket, hoping she doesn't notice who took it. i fling back in my seat and dabi high fives me.
"WOOOOO! ATTA BOY!" he shouts at me and downs the rest of his glass. i look back up to calypso on the stage, spinning around another pole sleazily. her movements are fluid and flawless, and i swallow the excess drool in my mouth as i watch her. the way her tits look, her supple curves, the jiggle of her ass against the metal and wood as she dances around the stage. none of the other women on the stage before had gotten my attention, but...she did. i cover my lap with my hands and spread my legs to hide the raging hard-on against my tight jeans.
the song ends after an excruciating few minutes and i let out the breath i didnt know i was holding. as she exists the stage, she drags a clawed hand against the mirror wall at the back of the stage. the whole crowd cheers, a few of the men going so far as to shout her name out. the next solo act comes out and i stand up, deciding to hide in the bathroom for a second. fuck, this doesnt look odd or anything.
i tap dabi's shoulder and tell him "i gotta piss, i'll be back" and he just nods as he stares intently at the next dancer.
i rush into the bathroom and slam the door behind me, locking the stall. i sigh and press myself against the shoddy stall door and yank the top i shoved into my pocket out. i press it to my face and inhale. my cock jumps in my pants as i do so, and i stifle a moan. it smells so sweet, and spicy, and just so fucking good. i palm at the front of my jeans as i inhale. fuck, her tits were in here. fuck. i rub my thumb over the soft material, imagining how it rubbed against her nipples, how the strings tugged at the weight of her tits. i shudder and shake my head, shoving the top back into my pocket. not here. i'll have all the time in the world to get off once i'm home, i remind myself. don't be the guy that jerks it in the public bathroom.
i gather myself as best as possible, splashing water on my face before exiting the bathroom. i shiver at the cold on my feverish face and push the heavy door open to see dabi standing outside, grinning maniacally.
"guess what, birthday bitch?" he tilts his head at me and chuckles. i stare with genuine fear as he points to one of the doors across from me.
"you see those doors, buddy?" i nod my head. "you know what's behind those doors?" i shake my head. the third door to the right opens and a man exits, looking absolutely blown away. a girl in a tight white bikini exists after him, looking distracted. fuck.
"dabi, nonononono, i do NOT want a private dance, nonono please" i tug at his jacket and he shakes me off.
"too bad, buddy. you're gettin' one." i whimper out in fear and clench my jaw. "come on, dumbass. youre 21 now. and youre still a virgin. it's kinda sad. at least get the experience of a lap dance, my god."
"dabi, i do not want a lap dance, i want to go-"
"shigaraki, a virgin at 21 is like a puppy who's never had a biscuit before. now go. second door. have fun!" he laughs evilly again and saunters off to the bar again, leaving me to my own devices.
i could run right now, or...
or i could man up and go get a fucking lap dance.
in private.
with a girl.
fuck it, i say to myself and go up to the second door. i take a deep breath and turn the knob, entering slowly. its empty.
what the fuck?
i take a seat on the giant plush....couch? futon? bed thing? i'm not quite sure, but it wraps around the room in a U-shape. the walls are made of all mirrors, with a sound system laid into the wall, and speakers next to the ceiling. i sit in the middle of the leather seats and scratch my neck anxiously. either dabi set me up real good, or...
a knock at the door startles me out of my thought and i look up. the door swings open and swiftly shuts. i recognize the body...the face...calypso walks in and raises her brows at me. every bit of my drunkenness dissipates at the sight.
"you're the birthday boy, huh? that's convenient. can i get my top back?" she says, her voice low and drawn out. she stares down at me and my eyes feel like they're going to fall out of my head. she's wearing something different now: a tight red top with a thong, pulled up around her hips, accentuating her curves. her boots are frighteningly large, thick leather straps and buckles crossing over her calves and thighs.
i fumble over my words as i pull the top out of my pocket, "i, how did you kn- i'm sorry" i wince at my own voice, and she laughs.
"giant mirror. the look on your face. i'm not dumb" she leans in and whispers the last lines into my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.
"oh...okay" i choke out. "sorry" i repeat, and she stands.
"good boy" she nods, and presses a button on the stereo. "porn star dancing" begins to play. i bite my lip and look up at her nervously. she traces my jaw with her nail, just like she did earlier, and climbs into my lap.
"do you want a lap dance, pretty boy?" her voice is sweet and sultry in my ears. i grip her thighs instinctively as she grinds into me slightly and i nod furiously. any intention i had of resisting is gone, as i glance at her ass in the mirror across from us. her thighs are warm and plush, and as she stands back up, i have to stifle my whimper. she turns around and bends over, giving me the perfect view of her ass. i reach out to grab it, and she turns around.
"ah ah, no touching yet, pretty boy." i exhale hard at the way the nickname rolls off her tongue. she continues to bend and sway in front of me, and my desperation grows. my saliva builds rapidly at the sight of her supple body teasing me, and i swallow hard again.
she brings herself back to face me, pushing her soft tits against me. they smell the same as her top, soft and spicy and sweet. i moan and plant a kiss to the flesh and she lets out a soft "hmm". i take this as an okay to touch her, and i bring my hand down hard on her ass, gripping it tightly. she gasps and flashes her wild eyes at me. she sits fully in my lap, grinding her ass against me, bouncing and bending on me.
i cant help but harden back up, my cock beating against it's jean prison again. my breath quickens as she slides off, and suddenly drags a hand to my upper thigh, squeezing it hard. i gasp at the touch and she laughs, a sickeningly seductive smile painting her beautiful face. my eyes roll back as she palms the front of my jeans.
wait.
i look to her now as she licks her lips and bites her lip. she drops down to her knees, her eyes glassy and half-shut as she stares up at me. i look at her in the mirror again, seeing her boots pressing against her plump ass again. i groan and push my hair back, and she fiddles with the front of my pants.
"your friend out there said you were a virgin, is that right?" she draws out, wicked and teasing. i nod and my cheeks flush with embarrassment. "you want me to fix that?" she questions nonchalantly as she pops the button of my jeans.
"wait, what?" i stumble, and she chuckles softly.
"i don't do this for everyone, you know." she points a cruel finger at me, "but when i saw how desperate you got out there, i honestly wondered if i could break you. thank god your friend asked me for the dance, otherwise i'd have to come find you myself" she laughs lowly, and i shiver.
i cant find the words, so i just nod furiously. she smiles up at me and unzips the front of my jeans. i help her by pushing down my boxers, letting my cock spring free. she gives a soft surprised look, and i furrow my brows.
"you're much bigger than i expected" she whispers, and wraps a hand lazily around my shaft. if i wasn't so turned on right now, i might take that offensively. but as she wraps her pouty lips around the tip, i throw my head back, ignoring any cues that this might not be a part of the lap dance.
her tongue swirls luridly around my tip, causing me to gasp. i'm already overstimulated, my cock twitching and jumping at her touch. she takes me deeper down her throat until her nose buries into my skin, and she lets out a low hum against the throbbing appendage. as i moan, she wraps her hand back around, sliding it alongside where she sucks me off, the doubled sensation causing my hips to buck up. she giggles around my dick as she sucks it, and i tangle my pale fingers into her hair. its so soft, just like the rest of her. she moans softly at the sensation of me pulling it, and i whimper. she pulls off of me with a gentle "pop" and i groan.
"you sound so fucking pathetic, pretty boy" she whispers.
"t-tomura. call me tomura" i choke out in rushed breath, and she nods.
"tomura. pretty name for a pretty boy" she nods, and i cant help but moan again at how she says my name. she brings my cock back into her mouth and drags her tongue all the way up, wrapping her soft fingers around my balls and squeezing gently. my body feels like its on fire and i start to feel myself breaking.
"ah-ah, ha, fuck" my breaths tangle with the mantra of swears and incoherent noises spilling from my mouth. i make no effort to stifle myself, there's no point. i grip her hair harder and she presses her teeth ever so slightly into the flesh of my cock, and i tremble. the sensations are driving me wild, and i completely lose control. i watch as her mouth slides up and down, her spit dripping down my length, tangling with the mess of precum already spilling from me.
"hnng, fuck, agh, ah ah, ah, i'm gonna" i whimper out, and she only looks up at me, not stopping. her grip on my balls tightens as i twitch inside her warm mouth, and the sight sends me over the edge.
"god, FUCK, fuck, ah, fuck, i'm cumming, oh fuck, i'm cumming" i pant out, and shove her head all the way down as my cock sputters. she chokes slightly around me as i feel the thick ribbons shoot down her tight throat. i whimper and moan out unapologetically, and she keeps sucking even after i finish, sending volts of electricity through my entire body. she pulls off of me sloppily, a string of drool and cum dripping from her lips. i twitch as the aftershock rumbles through me, feeling the alcohol (and blood) rush back to my head. my breathing staggered. she wipes her mouth with the bottom of my hoodie, and stands.
"you did such a good job, tomura" her voice is slightly raspy as she praises me, and strokes my face. i smile weakly up at her.
"th-thank you, calypso" i breathe out, and she returns the soft smile.
"happy birthday, pretty boy" she turns the music down and heads for the door.
"wait" i bleat out, and she turns, "can we...can i see you again?" she laughs with an exhale, and grins.
"come back next weekend." she replies, and my heart seizes. i nod and look at the floor.
"can i have your number?" i ask quietly.
she chuckles and shakes her head no.
"do you want...the top back?" i hand it to her, and she shakes her head.
"consider it your birthday present." and she walks out the door before i can respond. i shove the top back in my pocket and fix my clothes, checking myself in the mirror before exiting a couple minutes after her.
as always, dabi is standing across from the door, unlit cigarette hanging from his lip. "how'd it go, buddy?" he chortles, and i look up at him.
"we're coming back next weekend" i say, and without another word, i head out the front doors. the bouncer nods at us as we exit, and dabi follows behind with a "fuck yes!".
when we return home, i fling myself into my bed and yank the top out of my pocket. i examine every speck of glitter, the tag, everything. i slip the padding out of it, just for shits, and notice in thin black ink:
"your lucky day.
XXX-XXX-XXXX."
⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑
hope u enjoyed! i finished this at 3:50am and poured my whole ass heart into it. i had a lot of fun writing this :D
lmk if i should write more from shigs pov, or if a reader pov would be better, i tried to be experimental ;-;
thank u for the request as always!!
xoxo
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letstalkaboutfandomsbaby · 5 months ago
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https://letstalkaboutfandomsbaby.tumblr.com/post/773149497933037568/i-really-like-the-thought-of-a-chubby-gal-and-a#notes
JASON TODD X CHUBBY READER!!
*takes a drag from cigarette* Jason Todd... i haven't thought of that man in a long time
*puts out cigarette* But yes, you are so so right. I imagine heroes in particular are very fond of chubby ladies. We're just so soft and kind and lovable, so sweet compared to the rest of the world, so we give them a break from all the bullshit they have to deal with.
And Jason is no different. There's a million ways he could meet you, but it always ends up the same: he becomes a guard dog of sorts. When he's working, he's got tabs on you at all time, and when he's not working, he's hanging around you like you're the most important thing on his schedule.
He's like a bully breed dog who you can put clothes on. He's big and scary, yes, but he also let's you put a headband with a bow on him and wear skincare masks together in the evening. He acts like it's annoying, like he has better things to do but if you ask him to leave he looks absolutely heartbroken.
I think he doesn't understand that he loves you at first. He's been through a lot of traumatic shit so he's emotionally stunted, so love isn't something he can really comprehend. But if you are patient and kind, he will open up to you and give you everything he can. Just do your best to be understanding of this broken man and he will be all yours.
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justastupidlittlelesbian · 1 month ago
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fight club wip
Children love Tyler. He's just off-putting enough to fulfill their fantasy of an imaginary friend and freak their parents out. That is actually the reason he started collecting the stickers, they're a hit with the kids. It started like this:
"Here hold this for a second"
Tyler what is this I ask, looking down at my hands, now holding about four dozen different cat stickers.
"Shut up and follow me"
Stealing cat stickers from a corner shop is a new low, even for me. Am I closer to hitting bottom yet?
Tyler just looks at me, a cigarette dangling from his mouth that he was just in the process of lighting.
Even though I've known him for a while now and we've been inseparable for pretty much the whole time, I sometimes don't get why he does what he does. I'll go along with it of course but that's because he's conditioned me to do what he wants and ask questions later.
I really don't see the purpose of this theft I say, we're not dismantling capitalism with smiling cats.
"Hey don't underestimate the cats, they'll eat your corpse. Not like dogs who'll fucking sleep on your decomposing body until they starve to death.
I think if Tyler died I'd crack open his ribcage and stay in there until i died, even more dedicated than a dog. I don't say to him but i suspect Tyler knows anyways, because I know.
I get pulled from my morbid thoughts when i walk straight into Tyler, who has stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.
What the hell Tyler-
"Can I touch your hair?", a little girl, only reaching up to our thighs, asks Tyler, looking up at him with almost the same fascination I must have shown the first time we met.
Tyler squats down and lets the girl run her fingers through his messy, dirty blond strands (he'll have me cut his hair soon again) until she gets pulled away by her concerned mother. I don't blame her, Tyler does look like a madman with his red jacket and sunglasses to match. As the girl gets dragged along by her mother I notice Tyler slipping something into her hand - one of the cat stickers I forgot I was holding.
"I'm radicalizing the youth man, one cat sticker at a time."
For a second, I imagine Tyler in a classroom full of pre-school children, teaching them recipes from the anarchist cookbook they can do with things from under the not-so-childproof cabinet under the sink before I feel a feeling bubbling up in my chest that I usually only feel when Tyler tends to my wounds after one of our fights.
"Now stop staring at me, fucking fagott."
Ah, there is my Tyler again. I hold my hand not holding the stickers out to him and he passes me his cigarette.
Marla is like a cat.
"Fucking hell she is, scratches like one too."
I immediately regret bringing her up and focus on not gagging the rest of the way home.
Anyways, that’s how the thing with the stickers started. From then on, any time we went anywhere we’d be a few stickers richer – or at least Tyler was. They immediately wander from my hands or my pockets into various drawers in his room. It wasn’t too long until he began collecting random trinkets as well, especially pocket watches. I’m sure if I were to ask me he’d tell me about the subjectivity of time and the futility of the perfect moment (this is your life, and it’s ending one minute at a time) but mostly they just remind me of the watch I used to have. I still remember all the different time zones and how many hours you gain and you lose when you’re travelling by plane, the same way I remember the formula and how many car crashes I applied it to since I started my job. I don’t wear that watch anymore, the same way I don’t wear a tie to work anymore. Tyler has turned me into a rabid animal, surviving with the least amount of absolutely necessary things – or so he likes to think. Sometimes I still dream of Ikea.
“How does one take so long to find a ball of twine, you fall asleep again?” Tyler yells up the stairs mockingly, momentarily startling me.
That was one time! I snap. One time and I hadn’t slept for four days, asshole. Tyler likes to take away my ability to sleep sometimes, he says it's to make me more pliant. I’m pretty pliant all the time anyways so I think it’s just him trying to see how far he can push me. Sometimes I want to rip out his throat with my teeth.
“Come on psycho boy, we’re almost done packaging the soap. Be good and just bring me my shit.”
Tyler knows me so well I could kill him, the praise making me immediately grab the offending pink twine and walk down the dangerously brittle stairs.
@splat1316 @earfsquakez
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lunarflux · 7 months ago
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x: Thomas Shelby found his match in an information bookie who has eluded the grasp of the Peaky Blinders long enough to crumble their power over Birmingham. But at last, he found you. The ghost he'd been chasing was finally in front of him, but you were trickier than he expected. Dangerous, cunning - and a bit too much like himself. To buy your loyalty, he would have to sell his in equal measure. Loyalty for loyalty - blood for blood - how much were either of you willing to spill before the game changed entirely?
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a/n: YANDERE Y/N YANDERE(ish) Y/N LET HER LOOSE
part 19: the comfort of chaos
word count: 1,995 tag: @bruhidkjustwannaread | @rubyxx16 | @bellabarnes1378 | @johnmurphys-sass
✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒
The room was still, like the calm after a storm. Tommy stood there, his breathing slow and steady, a slight tremor in his hands the only sign of the rage that had just been simmering beneath the surface. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, and for a long moment, the only sound in the room was the soft rustle of your fingers against the back of his neck.
Arthur watched from the door, his arms still crossed but his stance a little less rigid. He had seen Tommy like this before—the storm inside him building, then crashing down. It always took something. Always took someone.
Polly, moving to the window, took a slow drag from her cigarette, watching you and Tommy with a mixture of knowing and surprise. She had never seen Tommy quite like this with anyone else. She’d watched him lead, take charge, make decisions with cold precision—but this? This quiet moment of... something else? That was different.
Michael stood off to the side, his eyes flicking between you both, trying to piece together what he was seeing. He hadn’t known you long, but the way you were able to just be there, without demanding, without speaking too much—it unsettled him. He had never seen Tommy so... softened. And yet, it wasn’t weakness. There was something strong in that silence, something more than just the tension that had filled the room moments ago.
But it was Arthur who said it first. A murmur, mostly to himself, but loud enough for everyone to hear.
“You know, I’ve never seen him like that.” His voice was quiet, but there was an edge to it. Something like admiration—or maybe awe. He leaned against the doorframe, his eyes still on you. “He usually fights it, and he doesn’t let anyone close enough to see it, let alone... let them calm him down.”
Polly nodded, her cigarette dangling loosely between her fingers. “It’s more than just calming him, Arthur.” Her voice was low, almost to herself, but not entirely. She raised an eyebrow, casting a quick glance at Tommy. “She's forcing him to stay with himself and fight it on his own, without running from it. He doesn’t like being vulnerable, but she... makes him face it. All she's doing is blocking out the rest of the world for him, so he can do it in peace.”
There was a beat of silence, the kind that was filled with unspoken understanding.
Michael looked to her, a frown pulling at his mouth. “But how?”
Polly didn’t answer right away. She took another drag, the smoke curling lazily in the air. “I don’t know. But there’s something about her that’s not afraid of him. She knows he could easily fire off like a pistol if any of us said the wrong thing, but she either doesn't care or she accepts it.” She flicked the cigarette to the floor and crushed it under her foot. “Tommy’s always kept everyone at arm’s length. You know that. He lashes out when we pry too hard, where we venture in a place we're unwanted because it's his own. He’s always been the one in control. But with her—he doesn’t need to be. She doesn’t expect him to be anything but what he is. It's a very rare thing to find someone you trust enough to take the reins when you need a moment of peace. That only happens if you know they'll lead you exactly to where you wanted.”
Arthur gave a low chuckle, shaking his head as he glanced over at Tommy. “It’s gonna be a bloody strange thing if she ever does leave him.”
“You think she would?” Michael asked, his voice hesitant, unsure. "I mean... After all this."
Arthur met his gaze, then looked back at you. “I don’t know, but I can tell you this—if anyone can keep Tommy from breaking apart, it’s her. And if anyone could break him down completely... it’s her, too.”
Polly snorted, but there was a strange softness in her eyes. “She’s got more hold over him than any of us ever will. She's brilliant. If you tell her I said that, I'll cut your bloody balls off.”
Arthur, Polly, John, and Michael all exchanged knowing glances, each one absorbing what had just transpired. Tommy Shelby, the man they had all seen break down barriers, build empires, and tear down his enemies without a second thought—now here, in this moment, looking smaller, more human than they had ever seen him. And it was you, in your quiet way, who had been the one to steady him.
No one had expected that. Not even Tommy himself.
✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒
The moon hung low, its light barely piercing through the thick smog of Birmingham’s streets. You strode ahead, your heels clicking sharply against the cobblestones, the Shelby brothers trailing in your wake. You were a vision of controlled fury, wrapped in a fitted coat that flared just enough to suggest elegance—and conceal whatever weapon you’d undoubtedly brought along.
It wasn't long after you'd worked your magic on Tommy that the mood shifted abruptly. You told them to meet you at the edge of Birmingham that night for an errand, and Tommy knew that the gears in your head had gone into overdrive.
“Remind me why we’re following her lead tonight,” Arthur muttered under his breath. “She looks like got a screw loose.”
“Because she’s scarier than you, Arthur,” John replied with a chuckle, lighting a cigarette. “Might be a little fun to see what happens when we let her off the leash.”
Ahead of them, you didn’t wait for their commentary. You knew who you were looking for. Kennedy, the slippery snake who tipped you off about Tommy. He’d been spotted drinking at the Black Lion earlier that evening, and you toyed with the idea that he might be useful to you once again. You caught wind of his whereabouts through your own network—a collection of women who worked behind closed doors and knew the secrets men spilled when they thought no one was listening.
When you reached the alley behind the pub, you held up a hand, signaling the brothers to stop. “Wait here.”
“And miss the fun?” Arthur chuckled, only to quiet when you turned your head, eyes gleaming with something unhinged.
“Wait.” The edge in your voice clearly emphasized that this wasn’t a request. Before your heel even stepped foot inside the pub, you peeked back out. "On second thought, Tommy, would you mind? I believe your pretty face might save me from a night in prison."
Arthur grumbled but stayed put. John leaned against the wall, cigarette dangling from his lips, watching you with keen interest as you disappeared into the pub.
“She’s enjoying this,” John muttered.
“She’s in control,” he replied simply. "Bloody terrifying if you ask me."
When Tommy stepped inside the pub, you already had your pistol drawn at the back of Kennedy's head, and all those watching were quiet with fear. The bartender held his hands up, his eyes nervously twitching between you and Tommy.
"Ian, we require a word with this man," Tommy declared.
"Of course, Mr. Shelby," Ian furiously nodded. "A-And your lady friend."
“Thank you—Ian, was it? Lovely name,” you said, your tone deceptively sweet. You tilted your head, studying Kennedy like a cat sizing up a wounded bird. "Kennedy, we need to have a chat."
“That you, y/n?” he replied without turning, trying for bravado but failing when you stepped closer, your heels echoing ominously.
“Yes, only me.” You smiled, a sharp, chilling thing that made Kennedy’s cigarette falter in his grip. “Let's step outside for some fresh air.”
“I don’t know what you’re—”
Before he could finish, you moved, swift as a blade. You grabbed the back of his head, twisting his hair from the root until he cried out, the cigarette falling to the ground. With your other hand, you pressed the tip of your pistol into his back. You pulled him off the stool and led him outside to the alley where Arthur and John waited.
“Oh, Ken,” you purred, your voice soft and laced with menace as you tossed him between the brothers. “I've had the worst few weeks since we last spoke. Your friend Bingham thought I needed a couple of bullets to the chest. And he burned down my fucking shop.”
John exhaled a long stream of smoke, his voice low as he spoke to Arthur. “Say what you want about the woman, but she's efficient.”
“Fuckin' hell,” Arthur muttered, though his voice lacked conviction. "You found a crazy one, Tom."
“She’s dangerous,” Tommy corrected. “Big difference.”
Holstering your pistol, you lifted your skirt to reveal a blade flush against your thigh. You pressed the blade to Kennedy’s cheek, the tip biting just enough to draw a bead of blood. “Alfred. You know where he is, don't you?” You leaned closer, your expression shifting to something dark, almost frenzied. “Tell me where he is.”
Kennedy’s breathing quickened, his eyes darting to the entrance of the alley where the Shelbys stood. “Help me! She’s—she’s crazy!”
Arthur snorted but made no move to intervene. “You’re on your own, mate.”
John smirked, glancing at Tommy. “Is he begging? Looks like he's about to piss himself.”
Tommy didn’t answer, though the faintest hint of a smile tugged at his lips.
You slammed Kennedy against the wall, your knife now at his throat. “I asked you a question, and I would very much like an answer.”
Kennedy’s resolve broke. “Alright, alright! He’s been hiding out at the docks—the old warehouse! That’s all I know, I swear!”
You studied him for a moment, then stepped back, wiping your blade on his coat. “Very good, Ken. Now, you're going to deliver a message for me. Tell him that if he wants me, he's going to have to be a little more clever than a few fires. And if he steps foot on Shelby property again, I will rip out his fucking throat. Remember that, yeah? He and I will have our chat when I'm good and ready, and it will be on my terms. No more shadow work.”
Kennedy nodded, sweat dripping down his face. He took sharp breaths as he tried to speak. "y/n, I swear. It wasn't personal—he paid me for the one job—just the one. I didn't know you were gonna get shot—fuck—please, y/n, I swear I didn't know!"
You turned the blade over your fingers and slid it down his neck. The way you smiled was enough to make him shut his eyes in fear. "You need a shave, Ken. Ladies prefer a man who takes care of himself."
You turned on your heel and walked back to the brothers, your expression calm and composed, as if you hadn’t just threatened a man within an inch of his life. Kennedy stayed glued to the brick, his eyes wide open as he processed what just happened.
“Well?” Tommy asked, his tone unreadable.
“I've bought us time,” you replied, slipping the knife back under your skirt. You paused, a wicked gleam in your eye. “Now, it's your turn, love. I assume you can think of a plan. Can't do it all for you.”
Arthur shook his head, still processing what he’d just witnessed. “You’re bloody terrifying, you know that?”
You glanced at him, your smile returning, soft and deceptively innocent. “New board, Arthur. Time to make the rules of the game.”
Tommy exhaled another cloud of smoke, his gaze fixed on you. “You do realize there’s a line between intimidation and madness.”
You met his eyes, your own glinting with something that made even Tommy pause. “Good thing I never cared much for lines.”
As you all walked away, you fell into step beside Tommy, your demeanor once again cool and collected. But in the back of his mind, Tommy couldn’t shake the thought: he admired you. And damn it all, he loved you just as much.
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vulgarmaw · 11 months ago
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*takes a long drag of a cigarette*
Me: "I suppose the reason villains are so captivating in media is because most of us view ourselves as heros. So watching someone do something horrific with reasoning that we can't immediately fault for being evil is a brain teaser of sorts.
In fact hero's are so boring because in our heads they're doing what we would do if we felt we had the power to.
I think if we all realized that the common villain speech of "we're not so different you and I" is more of a hard glance of what it actually means to be good rather than an understanding of villainy we'd probably see that we do have the power to do wonderfully good things."
Barista: "There's no smoking in here."
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candyskiez · 5 months ago
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I had a je au concept and it is now your problem:
Jon and Martin end up somewhere else, except Jonahs ghost comes with them. The current au I'm playing around with is Jonahs specifically bound to Jon, since he's the one who killed him. Something something maybe they're bound by the fact they were killed by the sake weapon something something Jon being the archivist meant he could either survive what anyone else couldn't, or means he could permanently kill someone who otherwise couldn't be. Whichever you prefer. I'll work on it. Jon obviously is having a really bad time being haunted by the guy who apocalypse'd him, Martin's not very happy about his evil ex boss haunting him when he's trying really hard to never think about any of that shit again and he already has enough going on Jesus fucking christ how did everything go this wrong, both of them are honestly having a really shit time. Jonah isn't exactly thrilled about still being dead. Being a ghost is only slightly better. All three of them are having a honestly not fun time. Get in loser you WILL be confronting your complicated feelings about the man who ruined your life and the man who understood you better than anyone else and how they are the same person, and how you don't regret killing him but you feel so empty and raw after everything and you don't even know what you're feeling. You're not grieving him but what else is this. You killed a man and it didn't even save everyone. You killed a man and you don't regret it but there's still something there and you don't know what the hell it IS. And that's just talking about jons feelings on it. Martin and Jonah I could write an essay about.
Here's some snippets of shit I imagined under the cut. In script for my sanity
Jon: Glad to see you're not hoarding some poor souls body anymore, at least.
Jonah: Well, I suppose we're both happy about that one then.
Jon: Huh. Wasn't expecting that one.
Jonah: It has been a very long time. I'm not completely heartless.
Jon: Well, forgive me if I find that hard to believe.
[He takes a drag of his cigarette.]
Jonah: I thought you'd quit.
Jon: I had bigger problems to worry about than my lungs. I'm sure you know about them.
Jonah: Really, Jon, I know you're...different now-
Jon: [laughs bitterly]
Jonah: But that still can't be good for you, can it?
Jon: Don't you Know?
Jonah: I'm dead, Jon. What do you think?
Jon: Oh. Wow. This must be torture for you.
Jonah: You know I can see you smiling, right?
Jon: I wasn't trying to hide it.
Jon: I've got to tell Martin that. Might be nice for him to know.
Jonah: How much do you Know, then? Did you just waltz in, still fully connected to the fears, and hope for the best?
Jon goes very, very quiet.
Jonah: Ah.
Jon coughs.
Jonah: I told you you should try to quit.
Jon: Fuck you.
-
I can't write anything for it because my brain wants me to explode. But I offer you Jon refusing to do any scheduling just to spite Jonah. "Oh yes, just tell Martin he has to do all the paperwork because you have a grudge." "You're underestimating how far he's willing to go to spite you." Alternatively if you like Jon going a little downhill, Jonah informing him how to do various paperwork. Jon getting increasingly irritated when his advice is actually helpful.
-
Jonah: You say all that, but I see how you look at him.
Jon: At who?
Jonah: Martin. You're scared of him, aren't you?
Jon: What? No! Of course not. I trust him.
Jonah: Do you? Maybe you don't fear him, but he did kill you. He did go against you.
Jonah: You haven't forgotten that. Even if you like to admit it.
Jon: Martin was trying to save people, he was trying to do what he thought was right.
Jonah: You don't, then?
Jon: I am not talking about this with *you.*
Jonah: Are you going to have it with him then? Be my guest.
Jon grits his teeth.
Jonah: Do you regret it? Bringing all the fears here?
Jon: Martin's alive.
Jonah: That's not what I asked.
Jon: And I'm not going to- how many times do I need to say it? Whatever you're doing- wasn't it enough? You broke the world, Jonah! You broke me with it! What else do you want?
Jonah: To know you.
Jon: What?
Jonah: I don't know anything in your mind right now, and you're the only one I can talk to. You already interested me before I died. I figure nows as good of a time as any. It's not like I can come back to life. There's not much else to do.
Jon: ...
Jon, very tired: God, you need a hobby.
Jonah: That isn't really an option though, is it?
Jon: No. It's not.
-
Jon: I don't understand how you can live with yourself.
Jonah: This again? Really, Jon?
Jon: Don't "really" me.
Jonah: You are remarkably easy to read, even without the Watcher. You know that, right?
Jon: Well then, good for you.
Jonah: You're proving my point.
Jon: I'm not doing anything.
Jonah: You want to know. You've seen how much I know about other people, and you're curious what I'd say to you. You're curious about how well I know you. And if you don't hear what I think this is, you'll be thinking about it for months, if not longer.
Jon: I'm not going to ask. I'm not an idiot.
Jonah: You will though, won't you?
Jon: You never answered my question.
Jonah, fondly: You haven't changed at all.
Jon: No. I haven't. Now answer me.
Jonah: There's nothing to tell. I wanted to survive more than I was guilty. I did quite enjoy not dying, you know. Guilt doesn't stop everyone. You should know that.
Jon makes a frustrated noise.
Jonah: And it fades.
Jon: No. You're not telling me everything.
Jonah: What, are you going to try and compell it out of me? Really?
Jon: Maybe I will.
Jonah: Would that even work?
Jon: Would you like to find out? It's not like either of us have anything to lose.
Jonah looks surprised. Then he smiles. He looks almost proud.
Jonah: No. We don't.
(He says it like Jons finally realized something very, very important.)
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sc0rpiflow3r · 4 months ago
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Snippet time
Thank you for the tag @mycupofrum and @cursedwithwords ❤️
Here's a scene from the next chapter of Dissonance, featuring James having a gay panic because, well, no one can resist Sirius Black, right? 🤭
(---)
Sirius should go to jail, really. He should go to prison for what he was doing to James, surely it was some kind of torture.
There was part of his skin exposed, and James could see the Prongs antlers' tattoo creeping there, a beautiful contrast of black ink against marble skin.
Sinful. Mouthwatering.
Enough.
“How's Lils?” Sirius asked, putting down the piece of bread – it had been lovely of Lily to try to cook, but that bread was so musty James was sure that if anyone actually ate it, they’d almost certainly end up at St. Mungo’s for a detox.
Sirius took his cigarette pack out of his trousers pocket, putting an unlit fag in his mouth.
James gulped and ruffled his hair, looking away.
“Sleeping. She's quite sleepy these days.”
Padfoot nodded, then twisted his wrist to light the fag with a non-verbal spell.
“Show off,” James mumbled, rolling his eyes.
Sirius smirked, then stood up and stretched. He approached James, looming over him – their height difference wasn't that great, but Sirius was still taller than him – with a frown between his eyebrows.
“Are you alright, Prongs?” Sirius asked, then cracked a smile full of mischief. He moved closer to James' ear, and all his hair stood on end. “Or should I say, daddy?”
Merlin's fucking balls.
James's brain went blank, and he forgot to breathe for a few seconds.
Sirius smiled –the absolute arsehole– and then turned away, taking a drag from his fag.
“Alright, I couldn't resist. Come on, you idiot, training today is with Dorcas and mate, she's a thousand times more terrifying than Moody. If we're late, she'll kill us. She won't even care that you're a family man now.”
“Um, y-yeah,” James managed to say, his wrists clenched, his voice strained. Shit, get a fucking grip, James. “Er... Floo?”
“Nah, too boring. Bike. Let's go? Like old times?”
Ah yes, everything James needed right now. To spend who knows how long holding onto Sirius's back, feeling every part of his best friend's body clinging to his own.
Great.
“Yeah,” he replied, because, well, he could never deny Sirius anything.
Godric knew that if Sirius suggested they swim across the English Channel, James would be the first to jump in the water.
“My Gryffindor knight, darling Prongs,” Sirius mocked, heading for the front door.
“Fuck off,” James replied, following him.
They left the house, muttering spells to make sure the wards were up, and then got on Sirius's bike.
“I've put some more charms on it,” Sirius said proudly, grinning from ear to ear. “Now she flies.”
James looked at him, eyes widened in shock.
“Fuck me, Pads, you got to be kidding!”
“Yeah, amazing, right?” Sirius bit his bottom lip. “So... um, would you like to try it?”
James smirked, sitting on the bike and wrapping his arms around Sirius's waist.
He rested his head on Padfoot's shoulder and closed his eyes, feeling that familiar, comforting scent. So fucking good.
“Of course.” He replied, then he moved closer to Sirius's ear and felt Sirius shudder with his proximity. “Let's fly, Padfoot.”
(---)
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oomox-oclock · 2 years ago
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0. There Was A Time
fic chapters/warnings/disclaimers/ect
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:DISCLAIMER:
Mentions of drugs/ sex ect.
English is not my first language
POV changes
x reader
inconsistent updates
time line is not perfect or accurate
Character may also not be accurate
I'll also be posting this on wattpad and maybe ao3
So if you see it wasn't stolen<3
Also i dont know how tumblr works and how to link chapters together(someone send help)
ALSO THIS NOT EDITED IN ANYWAY SO SORRY IF THERE ARE SPELLING MISTAKES
THANK YOU FOR READING MWUAH MWUAH
LEAVE COMMENTS <3
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The studio was warm in the coldest night of this Autumn, warm yellowish light and the red carpeted floor made it feel like a cosy log cabin. A full drum set with a few too many ride cymbals and windchimes sat close to the middle of the fat bare bricked wall, with a small metal bucket that had the remains of broken splinter drumsticks. A rack of guitars and two bass holders stood next to the right wall where an old armchair sits, a few different sized amps scattered round the square room. Right in front of the glass that separates the control room from the studio three mic stand in a line with noise cancelling boxes surrounding each of them.
In the control room there is a strong smell of weed and other smokeable herbs, "No! You can't take Runaway Blues off the album!" A man with short shoulder length brown hair and a moustache protested as he puffed on his cigarette as he lied back on the couch, his dark glasses fell back on his face as he tilted his head back. "I agree with Jake. It shows how good we are even when we're shit faced." The man with long curly hair, a gorgeous ethnic nose, stood up – towering over the other 4 people in the sesh – and began to roll another blunt on one of the control panels. The one that started this debated piped in, "Thanks Dan for taking my side." He said sarcastically, his curly mullet was like a solid cloud on his head, and he has a moustache like Jake. "We'll our wonderful manager and producer here," A man that looked like Jesus pointed to a woman that sat next to Jake on the couch. "Was the one that wasn't shit faced, I think that's why it was actually good, Joshua." He finished. "Hey, hey, I'm not saying it's shit because of you, please believe me y/n!" Josh dramatically pleaded to y/n. She was looking up at the ceiling. Pupils dilated. Blunt in hand. "Just, make it shorter." She said confidently, waving her hand a bit. Still not looking at anyone and head craned back. "You have the answer to everything." Danny said his mouth slightly gaped that such a simple solution didn't register in any of their minds. Or he's just on a psychedelic trip and can't spark up a brain cell.
The following week the band had dates in LA since they were still doing there 'Dreams in Gold' Tour. The band was already at the venue setting up, some still sleeping in the bus. Y/n had some business to attend to in their studio in New York before going down to LA. She decided to walk down the infamous Sunset Strip, as a historic music place like this could not go untrekked when having the chance. Wearing a black turtleneck, dark blue flare jeans with dark brown boots and a satchel bag hanging from her shoulder, a small suitcase's handle in the other hand while the silver case dragged its wheels on the floor. As she caught the sight of the colourful sign of The Rainbow, a voice called to her. "Y/n?" A older man, short blondish hair, leather jacket, sunglasses.
Axl Rose.
And like the trigger of a gun being pulled,
A life was lost.
(or misplaced)
Y/n's POV:
Everything stood still,
I stood still.
Then it all went dark. It was a black lifeless void.
Falling backwards but being physically still.
Time was reversing.
A previous life. My life?
Memories rolling past like an old film.
My head spiralled.
I can't comprehend this. What is happening to me?
My first years of school, late 60's early 70's. That's not right. It was the early 2000's.
Falling in love with music, Queen, Elton John.
Highschool was trip. My parents being stricter than anyone else's, they didn't believe I could have a job as in the music industry.
Studying music in college then going on the Uni and taking a science course to get my folks off my back.
One of my most successful record deals was Mötley Crüe and Bon Jovi.
Before they even started writing lyrics for their songs, I knew it off by heart and helped them gain success with it and recording went like dream.
Now I was searching the East Coast for a new band to sign.
March 1985, The City of Angels.
A flash of light, and my eyes flickered open.
It a cold night, dark but the city light was somewhat comforting.
It was the Sunset Strip, but something was...
Off.
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OMG SORRY IF IT'S SHIT
THIS WAS LIKE THE INTRODUCTION, FIRST PART IS COMING OUT SOON 
IM SO EXCITED
(Band at the beginning is greta van fleet )
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aplaceinthedark · 2 years ago
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interlude: WILDER than the WIND
Nicholas Ruffilo x Taylor (afab, non-binary oc)
Summary: Down in the Shenandoah Valley, there lay a court consisting of the Grim, the Drowned, the Witch and the Watcher.
CW: Sexual Situations: m/nb, oral sex (oc receiving), p in v (protected! wrap it before you tap it!) sex
Every chapter will have a different cw section. This is Bad Omens rpf, so obviously I don't know all the little nuances of the members or their family members.
A/n: can be read as part of the series or as a singular porn-without-plot one-shot.
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I felt Nick’s hands settle on my hips before he pulled me closer, adjusting me so I settled onto his lap. I let out a tiny sound, almost a squeak, in surprise, and he froze.
“Did I hurt you? Is your hip—“
“It’s fine,” I said, grabbing his face to pull him back in. I slid my fingers through his long raven hair, tangling at the nape of his neck, as I tried to ground myself in the moment. In response, Nick let out a sound like a hum against my lips.
The tip of his tongue lightly dragged up from my bottom lip to my cupid’s bow, like a permission to enter. I gently parted my lips, meeting his tongue with mine, and I almost melted at the taste. It was so Nick, with the hint of his last cigarette lingering.
The intensity ramped up as he slid his hands down from hips to my thighs, and he gripped them a little harder, hard enough to make me gasp into his mouth and roll my body up into his. The sound seemed to release him as he pulled away to kiss a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses from my chin, to my jaw, to behind my ear lobe. My whine turned into a whimper when his mouth stopped at my pulse point, teeth scraping over the curve of my neck.
I whimpered again when he stayed there, gently nibbling one second, soothing the bites with his tongue the next. I rolled up against him again, this time feeling his hard cock straining his jeans. Despite all the layers between us, the feeling of it pressing against my suddenly aching core made me dizzy. “Nick…”
“Are you sure?” He asked, the soft pants of his breath tickling the spit-slick skin on my neck. “We don’t have to do anything if you think we're going too fast.”
“Fuck, yes, of course, yes,” I pleaded. “Oh god, I need you Nick.”
I watched his resolve crumble as he groaned. “Then we’re not doing this on your couch.” He wrapped my legs around his hips. It was so easy for him to scoop me up, squeezing my ass in the process, and carry me to my room. The distance down my hallway seemed to stretch forever, so I peppered kisses along his neck to keep me occupied.
He groaned again, nearly losing his footing as he held onto the wall. I could really feel him straining against his jeans, causing me to forget how to breathe. I’m sure he could feel my heart pounding from my chest to his.
I felt him place a knee on my bed, and suddenly, I was falling back onto the covers. I tried to crawl back to give him some room, but his hands quickly grabbed my waist and pulled me back towards the end of my bed where he was. He leaned over me, capturing my lips in a heated kiss; definitely not as gentle as the first one.
While his hands stayed rooted firmly to my waist under my shirt, my hands were free to roam wherever they wanted. I managed to unbutton his flannel shirt and then dipped under his tee and up his stomach. His skin was hot but soft.
I could feel him tug at the hem of my shirt. He said something into the space between our lips, but my brain was having a hard time processing anything besides the feeling of his skin underneath my fingertips. “What?” I asked with a breathy moan.
“Take it off,” he said against my lips, whining. “Off.” He was faster than me and had it lifted halfway up already. I just let him finish the job, doing my part by just lifting my arms up. The shock of cool air on my bare chest made me wince.
“No bra?” he asked, eyes raking over my naked half.
“Don't like ‘em,” I replied.
He pressed me down onto the bed as he shook off his flannel shirt. He then climbed onto the bed, reaching back and practically ripping off his tee. I was surprised to see that his tattoos stopped at his shoulders. There was one on his chest, but I couldn't catch a glimpse of what it was before he ducked down to encase one of my nipples in the wet heat of his mouth.
I moaned as his hand came up to play with the other, my back arching up until our skin was flush with one another’s. I carded a hand up through the hair on the back of his neck as he switched the placement of his fingers and mouth. "God... fuck... Nick," I whined.
He pulled off of me and began to trail wet kisses down my sternum, down my stomach, to the waistband of my jeans, where he stopped. He raised his head to look up at me. “Are you absolutely sure about this?” he asked.
I looked down to see his gray eyes focused on my face, and I knew from that look that if I didn't want this - if I were to shut down and change my mind - he would absolutely stop. I nodded, too dizzy to string together two thoughts, let alone words.
His hands moved to my waist again. “Hey.” He squeezed my sides only once. “Use that pretty mouth and answer me.”
Jesus fuck this man was going to be the death of me. “Damnit, yes. Nick. Yes.”
He undid my button and zipper painfully slow before gently lifting up my hips. He tucked two fingers into the waistband of my jeans and underwear at the same time, and pulled them down my legs in one go. He leaned back. "Fuck, you're already dripping, aren't you?” he asked.
He pressed a few chaste kisses to my hips, tongue swirling around my belly button, and his fingers brushed down the scar tissue that spanned from the bottom of my ribcage to the middle of my thigh. To be honest, I had completely forgotten about the remnants of my road rash. I almost rolled my leg to hide it, but then Nick held down on my knee and began to kiss the raised pink splotches. He didn't seem to mind it as his lips trailed back over to my—
As his tongue licked up my arousal, it elicited a loud gasp from me. Every flick of his tongue that followed, every circle and every suckle from his tongue and mouth made me twitch and squirm. One hand of mine stayed rooted in his hair, the other twisted into my sheets. I squeezed my eyes shut as he slid a finger into me, and I moaned as it curled, finding the perfect spot on the first try.
Between his mouth and his fingers - sliding a second one in, stretching me more - I could feel the coil in my belly slowly heat up, like a burner on an old-fashioned stove. If I could combust, I would, lighting us both aflame, and I'm sure he would enjoy it as much as I would.
“Condom. Do you have—“ he asked as his lips were caught by mine.
The absence when he pulled away from my center, withdrawing his mouth and fingers, made me whimper, a desperate and needy sound. I would've been embarrassed by sound if I hadn't been so fucked out of my mind. "Wh-why are-"
"Because... First time I make you cum, I want it to be around my cock." He then mumbled small, unintelligible words against my skin as he trailed kisses back up my body. He stopped when he reached my lips, hovering over me and panting hot breaths into my open mouth.
“Might have an... emergency one in the—“ I gasped as he pulled my bottom lip in between his teeth. “...bathroom!” I managed to say between heavy breaths.
“Fuck. Gimme a second," Nick groaned. He pulled away, eagerly clambering off my bed and out the door.
I rolled into my side as I heard the sound of multiple drawers being rapidly opened, hastily muttered curses, and then a soft “Aha!” before he was running back into my room. He held the corner of a foil package between his teeth as he undid his belt.
I sucked in a quiet breath as he disposed of his jeans, his cock evident in his boxers. I was too stunned by the thought of how he could fit it in those tight pants he always wore, to notice that his boxers were off and he was rolling the condom on. When my gaze moved up to his face, I caught him staring at me as well.
Finally, he was climbing onto the bed, rolling me onto my back. When he climbed on top of me, the weight of him pinning me to my bed, he nearly covered all of me. “Fuck, you look so beautiful,” he said, resting his forearm near my head. My face warmed at the praise, and I couldn't help the cheesy grin that spread over my face. He matched my smile.
My hum stuttered as I felt him take himself in hand and tease his cock up my slick, the tip notching at my entrance. The stretch burned as he maddenly, slowly pushed in. I clung to him, my anchor, each arm wrapped under and up onto his shoulders as he gave a few shallow thrusts.
"You feel so—" He was cut off by a groan as he filled me, eventually bottoming out. At the same time, I choked out a tiny sob of pleasure and pain, shutting my eyes when he hit that sweet spot. “Fuuuuuck…”
He stilled, letting us both adjust. Time seemed to stand still, much like the first night I was here. Everything was silent, besides our heavy breathing, and everything seemed calm. It was just us, sharing this moment, sharing ourselves. I couldn't tell where he ended, and I began. But soon, I knew I needed more. “Nick—“
“I know,” he whispered.
No more words needed to be said as he began moving, withdrawing until he was nearly out, and then slowly thrusting back in. The drag in and out of me was so deliciously torturous, making me beg for more. His hand blindly reached down, wrapped around the back of my knee, and brought my leg up until my heel was resting on the small of his back. His thrust went deeper, dragging a long whine out of me, causing me to dig that heel into his skin.
“F-fuck,” he growled. “Feels so - unh, good. Like we were made for each other.” Normally, I would've rolled my eyes at the cheesy praise, but I couldn't find it in me to do it; not when I felt the same way.
As his pace sped up, the more incoherent the both of us became. We couldn't even complete words; it was just the sound of our hips crashing, moans falling, and curses stuttering. We weren't even kidding anymore; I could just feel he was hovering over me with every huff of hot breath he let out against my lips.
Between the sounds we were making and the feeling of his cock moving inside me, I was overwhelmed. He was pushing me closer to the edge, and I was close to falling over, but something connecting us was going to take him with me.
That connection pulled taut, vibrating until it was almost molten gold, wrapping around us and tightening until we were practically cocooned in the energy. I had no words to describe it except magical.
“Tay… look at me.”
My eyes fluttered open, looking up into his bright green eyes. His hand snuck in between our bodies, one of his fingers pressing onto my swollen clit. “I wanna watch you fall apart for me, please,” he whined.
It was enough for my orgasm to wash over me. I came with a loud cry of his name, back arching up until my sweat-slick chest was pressed flush with his. His hand slipped out from between us to wrap around my hips, pressing into the small of my back as he buried his face into my neck and hair. He mumbled praise after praise as he helped me through my aftershocks.
It wasn't too long before I pulled him over with me. He shook, hips stilling as he let out a breathy moan into my ear as he met his end as well, spilling into the condom.
We stayed still like that for a while; his weight on top of me a sublime pressure. The only sound in the room was our attempts to catch our breath. Whatever magick he did settled over us like a weighted blanket, and I felt safe and warm in its embrace as well as Nick's. I don't think we could move if we wanted to.
It wasn’t until I lifted a hand from his shoulder up to the back of his head to scratch his scalp that he moved, humming in pleasure. He lifted himself up, holding the base of his shaft as he pulled out. It left me with a hollow feeling, almost like I was incomplete without him.
He then slipped out of the bed. I started to whine in protest but stopped when he rid himself of the condom and turned back to me. “C’mon, let’s get cleaned up.”
Nick helped me to the bathroom - my legs didn't feel like cooperating - and he ran the shower while I sat down on the toilet. We stayed in the shower until the hot water nearly ran out, washing each other's sweat and mess from our bodies, as well as holding each other close as the water fell down onto our heads. It was almost as intimate as the sex was; between the two, my heart felt like it was about to burst. No one, not man nor woman, had ever made me feel so cared for after sex.
After cleaning us and the bed up, and we crawled under the clean sheets, I curled up into his side and laid my head on his chest. “Stay till morning?” I pleaded.
“Absolutely,” he replied, kissing the top of my head. And indeed, he stayed like that for the rest of the night, falling asleep together and not waking up until the late morning.
And I was absolutely fine with it.
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Tysm for reading! Next chapter coming soon!
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fuctacles · 8 months ago
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?xfiles for the WIP Ask game please?
This is one of the ancient ones, probably from over a year ago, idk why I'm still holding onto it. I put some of the vibe/ideas from this one into this one-shot, which I don't like much, ngl. (the ? in the doc name is a mix of "is it still x files" and "do I still want to write it")
But here's what I wrote back in my X-files marathon phase (its old so if its hard to read, im sorry):
The doors to the office opened with force, bouncing off the wall. The detective that went through them looked ready to explode, his movements erratic as he ran his hands through his hair. "We're this close. This close!" He growled, his teeth grinding clean through a cigarette filter. A scrawny temp walking after him picked up the pieces that fell. The man's colleagues looked up from their work, some sympathetic, some frowning. Steve, his desk buddy, rolled away from his desk. "He won't talk?" He saw a few strands of hair fall to the ground as Tommy dropped his hands away from his scalp. "Of course not. These fucking homos are useless." He seethed. Steve frowned, but before he could say anything, Tommy started pacing around him. "They all think their stupid reputation is more important than catching a fucking murderer! Maybe they shouldn't be sucking dick when they're worried about their kids finding out? He doesn't even have a kid! Stupid fags-!" Steve stood up. "I'll talk to him," he offered instead of saying 'It's guys like you that make them silent.' "Good luck with that. Try sucking his dick, maybe that'll make him talk," Tommy snickered, finally brightening up at a chance to make a homophobic quip at his own coworker. Steve clenched his jaw, tense all the way to the investigation room. He pressed a hand to the door and took a deep breath. As he pushed them open, the smell of smoke filled his nostrils. He raised his eyebrow. "I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to smoke in here." "Oh no," the metalhead sitting behind the desk rolled his eyes so hard it made Steve's head hurt. "What you gonna do, officer? Cuff me?" Both of his eyebrows shot up now. If he was flirting with Tommy before no surprise the guy was that agitated. Steve didn't react though, instead, he sat down in the second chair and pulled out his own pack of cigarettes. "My-" Steve hesitated for a tiny millisecond because the word started tasting sourly in his mouth recently. "Friend, said you don't want to testify." The guy puffed a cloud of smoke, lip crooked in a half smile as he watched him lit his own cigarette. "Are all your friends dicks?" Yes. "Are all gay men uncooperative?" The man shrugged. "Nah, we're pretty flexible. Sue us for not wanting a target on our back." "Isn't there one on yours already anyway?" The man leaned back, waggling his finger at Steve. "Indeed, but there's a huge difference between a scary-Satanist target and a weak-pansy target." Steve took a pointed glance at the guy - the bandana holding his long hair, leather jacket, studded bracelets, and chains. The full metalhead look. "You don't look weak to me." "Doesn't matter in a five-on-one situation." Steve took a contemplative drag. "Has this happened before?" The man shrugged. "Once or twice." "Have you-" Steve bit his tongue. He had a feeling his colleagues wouldn't take a case like this too seriously. “Tried reporting?” The man, Munson, as read the file left on the desk, guessed anyway. “What for? So I can hear how I could defend myself if I was a real man? No thanks.”
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tala-bez-i · 10 months ago
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At first sight II Chapter Seven
(m!reader x Bonten!Haruchiyo Sanzu)
Fluff/slash/reader is male/cursing/BontenTimeline/drugs and alcohol mentioned/violence/blood/death
All characters that appeared in the Tokyo Revengers manga and anime belong to Ken Wakui.
Words: 3631
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“No.” Said the man, whose dark hair fell untidily to one side of his partially shaved skull. “I won’t tell you anything.” 
Jin Nagasawa sat behind a transparent screen in the visiting room, avoiding any eye contact with you and your partner, his hands nervously rubbing his knees. 
You exchanged glances with your partner, both of you slightly surprised by this answer, because after all, Wada had assured you of something completely different. 
“Nagasawa…” Okumura began again, but the man shook his head violently. 
“Forget about it.” 
“Jun Takenaka is dead. We want to catch the person responsible.” You said, trying to make your voice sound convincing. You didn’t have to try too hard, because you really wanted to find the murderer. “Think about other past or future victims...” 
“Fuck, you don’t understand anything, do you? Fucking dogs.” He growled, his wide eyes wandering around the walls of the room, avoiding you and the man standing next to you. 
“I’m sorry, but we can’t understand what you don’t want to tell us. I guess you want to know the truth, right?” Okumura frowned slightly and the prisoner gasped loudly, stopping his gaze somewhere behind the investigator. “We only ask for a few pieces of information that will allow us to take the right path in conducting the investigation. We have a task to find the perpetrator and if you know something, Nagasawa...” 
“God...Fuck off already.” He groaned and hid his face in his large, bony hands. The man was clearly afraid of something. 
Or someone. 
You stepped closer, almost to the very wall that separated you from the sitting prisoner, and his gaze focused on you. His deep-set brown eyes were indeed filled with fear and uncertainty. 
“Jin, please.” You said without breaking eye contact. “Junko was your only refuge, outside of this building, and we both know that she was the only one who cared about you the most.” 
“Y/n?” 
“Some son of a bitch murdered her and she won’t be the only victim. Fuck, maybe there were others before.” You continued, ignoring your partner. “Do you really want to let him get away with this?” 
“No.” The man replied quietly after a short silence. Something hard appeared in his eyes. “If I knew who it was and could get my hands on him… I’d rip his head off and shit down his neck.” 
You nodded slightly. “You know something, right?” 
“I can't say. I want to, but I can't say anything.” He grimaced, shaking his head. 
“Is someone threatening you here?” You asked, trying a different angle. 
“This is a fucking prison. They're keeping me separate, but... I want to get out of here, do you understand?” 
“Is it someone connected to the person responsible for shortening your sentence?” You asked quietly, and the man stood up from the stool he was sitting on. 
He headed to the door he had entered through a few minutes ago, and a cold shiver ran down your spine. 
“Nagasawa?” Okumura called after him, but you raised your hand slightly, signaling him to let it go. 
“We're done, you hear me?!” A tall, thin man shouted through the door and the lock clicked open, and after a moment one of the guards entered. When Nagasawa was about to be taken back to his cell, he looked at you and said. “I'll get out of here. I have to." Then he disappeared and the door closed.  
“And that would be it.” Okumura sighed in frustration as you walked out the gate of the prison complex. “Fuck, what scared him so much?”  
“I guess I was right.”  
“In the sense that someone associated with law and justice has him by the balls?” The investigator asked, lighting a cigarette and taking a deep drag. “Fucking shit.” 
“How long does he have left?” You asked, adjusting the collar of your coat as a colder wind blew in. Emi would strangle you when she found out you forgot your scarf again. 
“About two and a half months.” The dark-haired man replied, looking towards the building you had just exited. 
“Too long. We have to figure something else out.” You grumbled, taking the cigarette from Shinji's hand and taking a drag from it. He didn't protest. 
“Do you also have the impression that everything will be explained when we find out who Uncle Shou really is?” 
You handed him the cigarette, which he immediately put in his mouth and leaned back slightly, as if afraid that you would take it away from him again. 
“I don't know, but it's likely.” 
“Who else could know who he is?” 
“The other boys from the brothel, as well as Haji and Riku. At least if we're talking about the description. Maybe they could recognize him from a photo, provided we had one.” You replied, looking at the sky, where more clouds were starting to appear, as if it was going to rain soon. 
“Riku... Do you think he'll be found?” Okumura asked, flicking his cigarette butt to the side, and you raised an eyebrow, knowing that your colleague only did that when his frustration level was three out of five. 
You didn't want to see the last level again. He'd almost been suspended from his duties as an investigator, and losing a bigger chunk of his earnings now was completely out of the question. He had kids and twins on the way. 
“I hope our boys find him safe and sound.” You replied and got into the car. 
“It's been two days since she disappeared.” Shinji announced, starting the vehicle's engine.  
“And no trace of him, I know. I know.”  
“Do we have anything more from the lab about Takenaka?” asked Shinji after a few minutes.  
"No. We have to wait about another week for the next results.” You sighed softly; “Similarly, we have nothing new on Yuu.”  
“This motherfucker is a complete nuisance. A pain in the ass." Your partner commented on this, and you shook your head, agreeing with him. “Not that I'm complaining, but he's been strangely quiet, hasn't he?” 
It was true. Over the past few weeks, your stepbrother hadn't left any new trace behind. No hint of where he might currently be, what kind of company he might have been hanging out with, if he even sought company at all. It was suspicious, even disturbing. 
"Yes, that's true." You said and the man began tapping a rhythm with his fingers on the steering wheel he was holding. 
You pulled your phone out of your coat pocket and checked if there was any message from Emi or Tomoko. Your beloved had wished you luck in your conversation with Nagasawa, but you had only just read it. It was a pity that you hadn't checked your device earlier, maybe some kind of charm would have worked, and you would have succeeded? 
You were about to put your phone back in your pocket when a new message appeared. You looked at the sender's name and were slightly surprised. Mai. 
"Hi, do you have a minute?" 
"Is something wrong?" 
"I need to talk to you. It's urgent." 
A cold shiver ran down your spine and you quickly replied that as soon as you were alone, you would call her immediately, while asking again what happened. 
"I'll tell you when you can talk." 
A strange feeling of unease took hold of you and you sincerely hoped it wasn't anything to do with her, her husband or worse, little Natsuko... 
“Is everything okay?” Shinji asked, giving you a quick glance to focus on driving again. 
“I don't know. I have to call Mai back later.” 
“Oh, give her my and my Princess's regards.” The man smiled widely. “She gave us excellent advice last time and we're still very grateful. Who would have thought that a fresh young green onion would somehow help with a baby's teething...” 
“Don't tell me anything. I still don't understand it.” You laughed briefly, watching the road ahead of you. “She discovered it by accident and thought it would only work on Natsuko.” You looked at your interlocutor. “Um, Shinji…”  
“Yeah?”  
“Will Mimiko be mad if I bring curry?”  
“Are you kidding?” He looked at you with wide eyes. “She will be taken up into heaven! We love your curry, Y/n!” He focused back on the road, and you felt a pleasant wave of appreciation wash over you. “It's probably the only thing you can cook at a master's level.” 
You felt a little disappointed after that little comment. “I can make good miso.” 
“Y/n.” You saw the man grimace slightly and didn’t pursue the subject any further. 
“I’ll try to talk to Wada again. Maybe he’ll have some ideas on how to convince Nagasawa to cooperate.” 
“Uh-huh.” Okumura mumbled. “I’d like to take a closer look at this Haji guy. I have a strange feeling about him.” The man’s tone became more serious than before. “Compared to Nagasawa and Takenaka, he looks more like a pimp to these guys than they do.” 
You thought about his words and partly had to agree with him. What you heard about the pair and what you remembered from previous timelines wasn't necessarily true. The only people who actually knew who the boss was there were the aforementioned three, maybe Katsuro Wada as well, but the Bonten members definitely knew. And by extension, maybe Tomoko too. 
“I'll try to ask someone from Department 4 about it. Some of them are working on figuring out Bonten, so they should have that kind of information.” 
“Do you think they will be willing to share this knowledge with us?” Okumura asked skeptically.  
“We are dealing with the murder of a person associated with the syndicate. This could be mutually beneficial, don't you think?"  
“Supposedly, but still, I wish you good luck, L/n.” 
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You were waiting at the reception desk of the police station, knowing that your sister would appear any moment now, who regularly took a longer coffee break at the same time to clear her mind and talk calmly to Mai on the phone. 
You and Okumura took similar breaks, but you usually stayed where you were and drank coffee from a can from the machine, but she preferred to go to a nearby café, thus, at least for a moment, surrounding herself with people who, despite working at the police station, had as much in common with her work as a carpenter with woodwork. Supposedly working with the same material, but for a completely different purpose. 
As soon as you arrived at the place from the prison facility, you called your oldest sister and what you heard did not fill you with optimism at all. Tomoko had fallen into shit deeper than you had previously thought. 
“What do you mean she left some strange package at your place?” You asked, having a feeling what its contents were.  
“It's small and quite heavy. When I shake it, I hear nothing. Y/n, there's no address on it, nothing. Absolutely nothing.” Mai replied to you. “I know she's trying to ingratiate himself with these bastards so she can destroy them from the inside, but I'm scared.”  
“I'll talk to her about it…”  
"No." She interrupted you abruptly, then lowered her voice. “Don't tell her anything. She told me to keep it hidden and out of Natsuko's reach.”  
You cursed mentally. “Do as she says, Mai. When should she pick up the package from you?” 
“For the weekend. She didn’t say anything else.” 
“Do you know what time?” 
“No. I don’t even know if she meant Saturday or Sunday.” 
“Is this the first time?” You asked, and there was silence on the other end. “Mai?” 
“No. Sorry, but no. She’s been doing this for six months.” 
“Why are you only telling me now?” You got angry, but you tried to keep your voice calm. 
“Because things were already starting to go bad between you two and I didn’t want to make it worse, little brother. I’m worried about both of you.” 
“Mai…” You sighed quietly. “I’m worried about you and your family too, sister, but please… You have to protect Natsuko.” 
“I know. That’s why I wanted to talk to you. I’m sorry I waited.” 
“Alright. Thank you for letting me know. I’ll keep an eye on Ko-chan whenever I can.” There was a moment of silence, so you spoke in a soft voice. “You have greetings from Shinji and Mimiko, and from me too. To your spouse and Natsuko-chan.” 
“Thank you. Please take care of yourself.” 
You looked at your watch, which showed 3:13 p.m., and you thought that this time you had come to the day when Tomoko would give up going out for coffee, when the woman you had been waiting for got out of one of the elevators and, staring at her phone, took quick steps towards the exit from the building.  
“Tomoko!” You followed her and the woman looked at you in surprise.  
“Y/n? Did something happen?”  
“I'd like to talk to you about a case I'm working on…”  
"Now?"  
“Do you have an appointment with someone?” You stopped right in front of her and the dark-haired woman blinked a few times, as if wondering what answer to give you. 
"No. All right. Come with me.” She finally said and you watched in surprise as she started walking towards the door again.  
For probably the first time in a long time, Tomoko seemed calm and immediately, without unnecessary teasing, she agreed to talk to you. You quickly followed her, afraid that she would change her mind in a moment.  
"What is it about?" She asked as you walked down the sidewalk in a direction she knew well.  
“About Nagasawa. We got a tip that he might know something about who might be responsible for Takenaka's murder, but he wouldn't say anything for the hell of it." 
“I’m not surprised at all.” Came the reply. “The guy is being watched by other prisoners who have connections to Bonten.” She looked at you carefully. “Listen, the syndicate has its people not only behind bars. Some of the guards are also in their pockets.” 
“Fuck, not that.” You groaned quietly, feeling frustration and anger starting to take over you. “Do people really not stink of the money Bonten has?” 
“Maybe you should answer that question yourself.” The woman laughed quietly and your face turned red. 
“Some cases are different than this and they shouldn’t be compared to each other.” 
“Bad excuse.” You crossed the street and after a moment you entered a small café, which was pleasantly warm and smelled of freshly ground coffee. “I love this place.” 
You glanced around quickly, and your eyes briefly landed on the barista who was standing behind the counter. Short, pretty and polite, but that wasn't what caught your attention. You recognized her without a problem. Asahi-chan had never looked so overwhelmed as she did now. 
"What would you like to drink?" Tomoko asked and you shrugged. 
"I'll trust you, sister." You said and the woman gave you a mysterious look. 
"Okay. You'll have the same as me." 
After a moment, two tall glasses of latte macchiato were brought to your table, the foam of which was sprinkled with dark cocoa, but what intrigued you the most was the smell of, as you guessed, the syrup that was used to give the drink flavor. Hazelnuts and something else... 
“You'll like it. That barista, Asahi, makes the best macchiato out of the entire staff, the same with espresso and cappuccino.” Tomoko said, casting a quick glance through the display window you were sitting in front of. 
“I'll remember.” You inhaled the aroma of the drink that was standing in front of you again. 
“Who do you suspect?” 
“There’s a guy that keeps getting mentioned, referred to as… I mean, the brothel employees that Nagasawa and Takenaka managed refer to as Uncle Shou.” 
“I heard about him. Bonten is interested in him and are looking for him as well.” 
You looked at your sister in surprise. “They didn’t know him before? I thought…” 
“Believe me, if they actually knew him, the guy would have been screwed by now.” 
“Why? He got Nagasawa locked up, but he took care of it and the guy got his sentence shortened.” 
"Exactly. He sent the pimp and bodyguard of one of the top drug dealers to prison. The dealer was killed and goods worth... Fuck, you don't even want to know how much money.” She said, taking a careful sip of her coffee.  
“Okay...?” You watched the woman, processing the new information in your head. “So the guy is in trouble.”  
“If he turns out to be of little importance, he will pay a high price for causing losses. But…” She looked at you carefully, gently gesturing to your coffee for you to start drinking. “If he is solvent and covers the losses, the syndicate will be willing to forgive him and write off Nagasawa.” 
“Write off?” You took a sip of macchiato and felt the warming alcohol in your throat. You looked at the glass with appreciation and licked your lips. 
“They can leave the business to the deputy, how was he? Haji?” You nodded, taking another sip of coffee. “And Nagasawa will have an accident.” 
You knew what Tomoko was talking about and you didn’t like it at all. 
“Nagasawa said he can’t say anything. He knows he’s under surveillance and they’re keeping him separate.” 
“Separate? For beating someone up?” The woman was surprised, and a glint appeared in her eyes that you didn’t necessarily like. “That’s bad. Very bad.” 
“You telling me that? If Bonten actually decides that it’s worth coming to terms with this Shou guy, then letting Nagasawa in with the other prisoners will mean a death sentence.” 
The woman was silent for a moment, tapping her manicured fingernail on the table you were sitting at. 
“Y/n, what about the missing boy?” She asked quietly. “What about him?” 
“What's supposed to be? No traces. We don't know where he might be or who he might be with.” You shrugged. “The client was supposed to drop him off at the designated location and the footage confirmed it. Which doesn't change the fact that the boy disappeared into thin air. He's not on the footage from other cameras.” 
“Could he know something?” 
“Let's just say he was more cooperative than the others, although they were polite and answered questions. I think it's only because he's the youngest...” Tomoko looked at you carefully and you nodded. “Yeah, I think it's the underage one too, but he seemed the most trusting of them all.” 
“Naive. That's what you meant.” 
“Naive, fine.” You nodded again. “It's suspicious that he went missing, and on the same day that Okumura and I talked to them.” 
Tomoko took a sip of her coffee, and you followed suit, reaching for your glass again. 
“Occupational hazard.” The woman grumbled quietly, and you swallowed a sip of your drink loudly. “However, that doesn't change the fact that I haven't heard anything about it.” 
“Huh?” You looked at her carefully, and the woman looked up from her glass at you. 
“I have a proposition for you, little brother.” 
“Yes? What?” 
“I have a meeting with some people from the syndicate on Saturday night. Come with me to the meeting.” 
“What?” Your heart skipped a beat, a cold shiver running down your spine. 
“Come with me to the meeting and maybe we can work something out...” 
“What do we have to offer them? Nothing...” 
“Us? You have something they want to offer them, Y/n.” 
“What? I don't know who Shou is or where Riku disappeared to...” Your hand began to involuntarily gesticulate, showing your growing frustration. 
“You have information to offer them about Yuu and Takenaka.” 
You froze, your eyes widening for a moment. “I have nothing new on Yuu, and as for Takenaka, I only know how he died...” 
“You won’t know that until you compare what you have to what they have.” 
“Tomoko...” 
“Y/n, I know what I’m talking about. It could work. You just have to convince them to work with you...” 
“It won’t be easy...” 
“It won’t be hard either. You’re already getting paid to remove evidence...” 
“I’m getting paid by Kokonoi and Takeomi...” 
“With Mikey and Kakucho’s knowledge.” She cut you off and you pursed your lips. “I know you get really low, but you’ve never asked for more and it’s all your fault that you work for them for next to nothing.” 
“And Sanzu?” You asked after a moment, much quieter than before. 
“Do you think that if he knew that thanks to you he could continue to go crazy, you would have peace?” The woman smiled half-heartedly and you had to admit she was right. 
“The first thing he would do is threaten me with death again.” 
“Or, despite the benefits, he would try to kill you.” Tomoko finished her coffee and you followed her again. “Because of you, he makes a fool of himself, thinking that he can get away with everything thanks to his cunning. If he finally discovers the truth... It could be rough.” 
“If I agree to go with you and we can work with Bonten, does that mean I’ll be protected in some way?” 
“If Mikey agrees to it, yes. Sanzu won’t lay a finger on you unless his King orders him to.” 
You knew it was true and you didn’t like it at all, but if it was going to help you solve the Junko Yoshioka case and Yuji’s case in the process, maybe the risk was worth taking? 
“What time is the meeting?” You asked quietly, your voice rather glum. 
“Saturday, 9:30 PM. I’ll pick you up.” 
“Great.” 
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