#got the jesus holes to prove it n everything

[thegncsjesus]

and on the third day they rose again

they/them • 18+ • men & minors dni

[sihtricswife]

Oh shit, part three

Isaiah Jesus x Shelby!reader Warning: mentions of sexual themes, violence, swearing.

Summary: With their secret out y/n and Isaiah could only hope. Word count: 1,1 K ———————————————————————

Isaiah looked like he was about to shit his pants, he too had seen Tommy's reaction and wanted nothing more than to run right out of the back door, you know, to avoid a very painful death. But he couldn't. He was glued to his seat, eyes on y/n, his girlfriend, he couldn't leave her alone with the wrath of her brothers.

Tommy was still taking a long drag from his cigarette, staring y/n straight in her eyes. His other brothers were still shouting, trying to figure out who their little sister was seeing. But he, he had already figured it out. He chuckled darkly at the irony of the situation, "The son of a preacher, how ironic."

This shut up everyone, the pub stood in a deadly silence. Every pair of eyes had strayed away from y/n and were now boring furious holes in Isaiahs head. He looked at them each, eyes filled with fear, looking like a deer in headlights. Before anyone could utter a word the youngest Shelby brother was already on the other side of the pub, holding Isaiah against the wall by his collar.

"You fucked my sister!" He screamed. His voice was full of disbelief and betrayal, shocked at how his bestmate could do something like that.

"Finn it's not like that I promise." Isaiah stammered, trying to explain that he truly loved y/n.

Finn didn't believe him and punched across his cheek. Y/n stood up and wanted to defend her boyfriend but was held back by Tommy who glared at her.

By this time both Arthur and John were standing next to Finn, holding Isaiah against the bar, glaring at him venomously.

The silence was terrifying, and still Isaiah looked calm, determined to prove that he loved their sister, "Please, just listen to me-," He was cut off by a punch to his stomach.

"How long." It was John who demanded it, his voice still low and dangerous. Isaiah was still recovering from the blow to his stomach when Arthur added another. John leaned close to his face and hissed, "How long, Isaiah."

"Six months." Isaiah wheezed out, coughing slightly.

Tears were brimming in y/n's eyes, and she was begging her brothers not to hurt her boyfriend. But the knowledge that one of their most trusted employees had been sneaking around with their sister for six months only angered the three men further.

Ada, who had been standing frozen on the side with Esme the entire time finally spoke up, "Boys let him talk for fucks sake!" Normally the brothers didn't really listen to their sister but the anger and authority in her voice made them follow her demand.

Arthur was smiling sourly at the bloodied up Isaiah, "Well go on, talk."

Isaiah raised his head to look them all in the eye, "It's not like what Finn said-,"

"Like you fucked my sister," Finn cut him off but he was silenced by Ada's glare.

Isaiah looked down, how was he going to explain this. It's not like he could deny it with the prove from the bruise behind her ear. That's when he decided to just spit it out, he didn't care what happened to him. He just wanted them to know how much he loved y/n.

"On her birthday I kissed her for the first time, I had liked her for a while than and was so fuckin' happy to finally know she liked me back. Then she got scared of what you guys would do to me when you found out, rightfully so I guess. So we started dating in secret, after two months I told her that I loved her. And I still do, so fucking much. I tried everything to keep it a secret, not because I was afraid of a beating. But because I was scared you weren't gonna let me see her anymore."

He looked back to all their faces, who were now slightly shocked behind the masks of fury. Then looked over Finn's shoulder at y/n's face and smiled softly. He smiled through the pain and looked at her as if she was the most important thing in his life, which she was.

Y/n Shelby was all that mattered to Isaiah Jesus.

Tommy looked at his face carefully, he tried to find a glimpse of a lie but he couldn't. The man her sister was with told the truth. He looked at Isaiah's expression, it was full of love for his sister. No matter how hard he tried not to he thought about where he had seen that expression before. And he knew that this was how he used to look at his wife. That made up his mind.

"Arthur, John, Finn, let him go." His voice was sturdy and clear. It wasn't a request, it was an order.

Everyone turned their head to look at Tommy bewildered. But he was looking straight at Isaiah, his icy blue eys locked on Isaiah's dark ones. No emotion apparent, like always, Tommy Shelby's face was a mystery.

Without the three brothers holding him up Isaiah had to lean against the bat for support to keep himself from toppling over. He too kept his eyes locked on Tommy, but he looked beyond nervous.

"I'm letting you continue to date our sister, but I swear to everything living on this earth. If you harm a hair on her head, I will tear you apart so badly God won't even recognize you, understood?"

"Understood," Isaiah sighed in relieve when Tommy walked out of the bar, the other three brothers following him. Not without glaring at Isaiah first.

When the door shut y/n sprinted over to her boyfriend and engulfed him in a tight hug, trying her best to avoid his injuries.

After pulling away with a bright smile she placed her hands on the sides of his face an accessed his injuries; he had a small cut on his cheek and a split lip. She knew that there would be bruises on his stomach but didn't want to look.

Isaiah smiled fondly at her and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before kissing her softly.

The two women who were still in the pub left quickly, leaving the young lovers alone.

Isaiah placed his forehead on y/n's when he pulled away and smiled softly before whispering, "I love you."

Y/n smiled back, "And I love you."

———————————————————— • Final part, I like this one the least but the ending was cute.

[fbfh]

Nico di Angelo nsfw alphabet

as with all nsfw/smutty/sexy content, all characters are aged up to 18+

words: 3.2k

pairing: nico x (mostly) gn reader (one mention of the word coochie as a joke cause it's pretty hard to talk with dick in your mouth, but it can reference whatever hole you'd like, a few mentions of the phrase going down on someone but that's just slang for oral so it's still gn)

a/n: so I went way overboard with this!!!! It's like 6 paged in google docs and took me a few days to do but it was so fucking fun send in more characters for me to do nsfw alphabets for!!!! kinda wanna do Leo next but when don't I title of your sex tape

also it's not/barely beta read or proof read because I have no brain today :)

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Aftercare king. Like, seriously. Dating him is like dating the anime vampire boy you saw on google images and got a crush on in middle school. Everything he does is riddled with tenderness and yearning and romanticism and lust. He’s still so affectionate, kisses fluttering over your skin like skipping stones, hands massaging and caressing you, that it almost feels like you’re still having sex. That’s how tender and hands on he is. He mutters all these flowery words, switching between english and greek and italian, and everything he’s saying is so pretty that you think he’s quoting someone. Nope. All improv babey. That’s the kind of feelings you invoke in him.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On himself, he likes his like… mouth and jawline. Sometimes when he smiles he sees his mom and sometimes a little bit of Bianca. Tied for first place is the two little lines on his stomach that your fingers brush where you take off your shirt. Sometimes he traces over where your fingers brush when he remembers your touch. On you?? I know saying everything is kind of a cop out but jesus christ,,,, listen, he really likes the way his hands fit on your hips, especially when your legs are wrapped around him. I’ll leave it at that.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He used to be really embarrassed when he would cum. He’s such a service… I was gonna say service top but like, he’s just totally there for you - more on that later - so when you make him cum it feels so amazing he used to think he wasn’t being a good lover??? Like if he’s feeling this good he must be being selfish in bed??? Very much not the case and you got that ironed out real quick. Now, especially after all that, it feels like one of the most intimate parts. If he possibly can he’ll try to time it so you cum together, but it doesn’t always happen. No one’s complaining.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He has a vampire fantasy and no I will not be taking constructive criticism on this. The theatrics, the romantic lusty gothic vibes, the glorification of the dichotomy between life and death????? Also between being a kid during world war ii and being a demigod, the whole immortal without being a god thing really appeals to him. It will be a long and difficult process for him to be able to admit this to you, in spite of how much he wants to. When he does, you’re more than happy to indulge him.

It’s like… it’s not even “ooh i’m a sexy angsty vampire i have to bone you before I feed from you to get your blood pumping” [cough cough twilight nsfw cut aka the fic 50 shades of grey was made out of] [also edward cullen is NOT a top so already off to a rough start there] it’s much more of like… “I’m a beautiful sensitive dramatic ass vampire that wants nothing more than to be loved but alas i’m too intimidating… and yet? This beauty isn’t scared off by me? I must prove my devotion to you by going down on you and reciting poetry into your coochie”

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Okay okay. He doesn’t have a lot of practical experience, but he has done copious amounts of research in the form of tender romance novels written mostly by women. He was still a kid when he was in the lotus casino, so by the time he was interested in learning about that stuff, he basically had no family and had pushed away all his friends. Yikes. He did, however, consume tender romance novels aimed at women at light speed. Like, I read all 70 chapters of this slowburn fic in one night energy. And these all have a very romantic take on sex and intimacy, which already appealed to him a lot, so after a little practice, he’s able to hone these theoretical skills into something really amazing. After your first time he was like ‘sorry that was probably pretty bad, it was my first time’, you’re like ????? you literally didn’t believe it was his first time, that’s how loving and amazing he is.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Nico really does love any position where he can hold you close and pepper you with kisses and whisper things into your ear. Also ideal if he can gaze at your beautiful form. His words.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Not strictly goofy or serious, mostly focused on making you feel every good feeling he can. If he makes you giggle a little, that means you’re happy, so he’ll take it. Usually giggling is instigated with outlandish plans for the future, like “let’s run away to a private island” or “we should buy an old castle in italy so I can be your fairytale prince” etc. all with a you deserve the world my love overtone.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

It’s surprisingly hard to find specific historical information on men’s body hair grooming, but I was able to find some information. So, presumably, he keeps things well groomed. I feel like he gets really scared of getting cut or getting those little bumps when he shaves, so he’s very meticulous to make sure he does a good job.

I know this is supposed to be mostly about down there hair, but I feel like the same principle applies for other body hair and like, facial hair. Stubble was pretty out of style in the 30’s and 40’s, so he probably shaves his face every morning. I feel like he tried to grow out a pencil mustache at one point, but you both agreed it didn’t really suit him. Sometimes if he gets busy, he gets a little stubbly, and you think it’s incredibly hot. Another reason he likes keeping his face shaved is because he loves kissing you a whole lot, and doesn’t want to scratch your face. Or other areas.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

He can make every moment feel intimate, just by the way he looks at you alone. During the actual heat of the moment he literally makes you feel like every single corner of your body is filled with love. He has this specific type of adaptable sensuality that somehow makes every single moment perfect. He can do something as simple as hold your face and sigh slightly, and you’re filled with more emotion than you’ve felt from the last several very good movies you’ve watched combined.

No matter what you’re doing, just holding hands or having him absolutely wreck you on the coffee table, you just feel this intense energy pouring over you like a waterfall. He’ll let out these little moaning sighs and sing your praises in the same breath. Romantic intimacy is so ingrained in him it really is woven into everything he does with you. It’s pretty much the basis for the way he expresses love for you.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Usually only if you two are apart for a while and he’s really missing you. If he has to leave on a quest or some other business and he has the feeling it’ll be longer than a day, he’ll take a memento with him, probably like one of your shirts that he sprays with your perfume or cologne or body spray or something. A lot of times when he’s feeling ~lusty~ for you, he’ll write you a love letter first. Sometimes he gets so wrapped up in what he’s saying and feeling that he gets so overcome with lust and missing you he has to do something about it.

If palming himself and finishing the letter doesn’t work, he’ll take a shower to ‘cool down’ but keep making the water incrementally hotter. One thing leads to another and he can’t stop imagining you in that warm steamy shower with him, how you’d kiss his neck and trace your fingers over his abs, and how tightly he’d hold you, and the little breathy sighs you’d make when he kisses you and caresses you in just the right places… of course nothing compares to you, and he’ll definitely bring those fantasies into reality once he’s in your arms again.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Praise, giving and receiving. All he wants is to make you feel as amazing as you intrinsically make him, so when you tell him how good he’s doing???? Oh my god it adds fuel to his already roaring fire. A little praise goes a long way with him, so start off slow or it’ll be too overwhelming. Giving praise comes as easily as breathing to him, and often overlaps with body worship. He does these so naturally he doesn’t even really realize they’re kinks. Like, Hozier levels of adoration and praise and body worship.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

He loves the spontaneity of doing the classic sweep of the arm to clear off a surface to bang on. Coffee tables, kitchen counters, against a wall, anywhere spontaneous that’s usually not for banging on that says “I am so overcome with lust I must express it to you right now and can’t possibly wait to get to the bedroom”.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

He’s very touch starved and love starved, so the simplest acts of affection can make the rube goldberg machine of “wow you’re so amazing and I love you so much and I need a way to express these overwhelming feelings…. How about… making out with you and caressing you tenderly” get going. If you take it a step further and really instigate something by running your hands over his torso, brushing the hair out of his face, or pressing kisses to his neck, he’ll react immediately.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

It’s probably obvious at this point, but love and emotional connections are absolutely critical to him, so I don’t think he could do anything with hard domming, or something where the sexual aspect is more about power and control than expressing love. I also don’t think he’d really be down for some of the stuff that’s considered more extreme, anything that would cause harm, or anything that would hurt you at all. You’re too precious to him for him to let any harm come to you.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

If you give him oral he will not even know what to do with himself. It’s a whole new level of euphoria. He doesn’t even know what to do with himself. You can get out some of the most amazing noises so easily it’s almost a little surprising. He’s total putty in your hands (and mouth). If you’re okay with hair touching he’ll grab your hair or the back of your neck with a gentle, firm grip. He’ll literally be a writhing mess beneath you and it’s really incredible. He will absolutely return the favor, and then some.

He will give you oral practically at the drop of a hat. The skill he has is… unmatched. He’ll massage your hips and thighs gently in a way that somehow feels really relaxing and also amplifies everything he’s doing with his mouth and hands. He’ll moan into you, his tongue finding the perfect spot over and over, genuinely enjoying this as much as you are. Knowing he’s giving you the same type of euphoria that you give him really brings him more and more into the moment. He could literally go down on you for hours and still crave more, so he definitely lets you set the tone for how much. If you just let him go crazy, I’m sorry babes, but you won’t be able to walk for several days.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Moderate to fast paced, incredibly sensual. Even when he’s practically grinding against you at light speed, it will still feel like the most steamy heavy romantic thing ever.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Okay, listen. At first glance, you wouldn’t think he’d like quickies at all, however, he is an any time any place kinda guy. He can make hooking up in a broom closet feel like your fucking honeymoon. He’s fully prepared to sweep you off your feet and make your legs shake at any given moment, then go back to pick up dry cleaning like it’s no big deal.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Absolutely game to experiment, especially if it’ll make you happy. He’ll take some risks, especially if the reward of making you happier and feel better than ever is greater than whatever the risk is, which it usually is. He’ll let you take the lead with experimenting a lot of times, being more than willing to try whatever fantasies or desires you have. All he wants to do is indulge you, which he does frequently.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Tied for most stamina out of the entire demisquad. He could probably go 4 - 6 times in a day, lasting between quickies and over an hour, if you wanted to. Oh my god, I hope you’re ready to be really sore. Like, look forward to it. He never gets tired.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Initially, I don’t think he really has a lot of toys for himself, but if you have any you like, he’ll become very well acquainted with them. Once he breaks that ice a little and sees how fun they can be, you’d better believe he’ll go on a shopping spree or two.

He’ll start surprising you with toys, lingerie, anything that makes him think of you or that you mention you like or want to try. You’ll come home, and see a sleek shopping bag containing a few black boxes and some tissue paper. You start to open it and feel Nico’s arms around your waist, breath fanning across your neck. “I hope you like it, cuore mio…” he’ll murmur, already pressing kisses into your skin. He smiles into the crook of your neck when you gasp, eyes landing on the first of many surprises.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Listen, he doesn’t tease you intentionally, he’s not mean enough for that. Usually he ends up caressing you and rambling about how much he loves you and how good he wants to make you feel at a time when he can’t immediately follow through. Unfortunately, you’ll both just have to suffer with these lovely thoughts swirling around your mind until you can find a time and place to take action. Which, depending on the circumstances, can be much more of a priority than other times.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

When he can be, he’s very loud. Circumstantially, that’s not always the case. When he needs to keep it down, either due to a quickie or other people being nearby. When that’s the case, expect a lot of low, stilted moans, breathy sighs, heavy breaths, and low growly rumbling moans. When he can be louder, he definitely will be. Breathy pants, loud moans and exclamations, rambling praise and curses like strings of christmas lights. If you give him oral, that’s probably when he’ll be the loudest, whining and writhing, yelling ‘oh god, tesoro’ so loudly you end up with a noise complaint or two.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

I think I’ve mentioned this before, but he loves when you take off his shirt. Like, he’ll go feral if you slip your fingertips under the hem of his shirt, tracing your way over his abs and chest while you slowly lift it off. Like, that’s one of the things he looks forward to most when he reunites with you after not seeing you for a while, it’s one of his favorite things you do. If you want to make his brain full of serotonin and make his pupils all lovey and dilated and focused on you, this is exactly the way to do it.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Listen, I personally believe that all demigods have either fucking schmeat or a gorilla grip, so following that logic, Nico’s got a lot going on. He’s big and girthy, with just the right amount of veins. Even when you’re just bumping and grinding, he still makes you feel so full. He can fill up every inch of you, making you feel so complete. You have no complaints.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Very high sex drive. Very very high, astronomically high sex drive. Dating Nico probably means you’ll be among the first of the demisquad to break that ice, somewhat of a shock to all. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: “any time any place” -Nico di Angelo probably. He can and will sweep you off your feet and make you see stars at the drop of a hat. Utterly obsessed and in love with you, and always looking for an opportunity to show that off. You could literally wake up in the middle of the night and start kissing his neck and feeling him up, and he’ll wake up with a moan and this blissful smile, immediately turning to reciprocate. Since your sleep schedule is so fucked up from all that, you end up taking a lot of naps together.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

After his amazing aftercare, he’ll fall asleep somewhat slowly. He’ll usually be tracing his hand over your arm or back, maybe through your hair if you like hair touching, in complete and utter adoration of you. He likes to fall asleep after you do, but sometimes he’ll doze off before. He’s never slept better than he has in your arms. He has a history of astronomically shitty sleep, but when you’re wrapped up in each other’s arms, he suddenly loves to sleep again. If he needs some extra sleep, he’ll nap with his head in your lap or on your stomach. Just having you there makes him feel so at peace. I don’t know if it’s actually possible to smile while you’re asleep, but he comes as close to that as physically possible, all because of how comforting your presence is to him.

[mxpseudonym]

Not Good Enough

Pairing: Luca Changretta x OC (or she/her pronouns reader)

Summary: Luca decides it's time to call it quits before anything dangerous happens. Of course, he hasn't quite thought through how this would go.

Length: 993

Warnings: None

A/N: I love that these are getting longer and longer 😂. This is the same OC from Get a Real Hobby and I Don't Like You, I Just Want You Here Forever.

(By the way, I didn't realize the major plot hole of where exactly does OC live? I don't know how to fix it other than just saying she lives in her own secure luxury apartment that Luca pays for and basically lives in as well cause he's always there. She'll eventually live with Luca.)

--

She knew when he called her by her first name that something was wrong. It had been ages since Luca had called her anything but Blossom. She almost thought he'd forgotten her name altogether.

"What? What is it?"

She walked slowly from her place at the living room entry to where he sat on her couch, elbows on his knees and hands clasped in prayer. Her heart was thumping loudly, preparing for anything.

"Maybe, maybe we shouldn't get married," Luca said.

She sighed and dropped the bags she held before sitting next to him and placing a hand on her chest.

"Jesus Christ, Luca, you can't scare me like that. And what the fuck are you talking about? Of course, we're getting married," she scoffed, smacking his arm. Under any other circumstance, he'd laugh and tease her for declaring it so clearly and proudly before him. But today was different.

"Listen. My family, we've got trouble, alright? My brothers have made a mess of things overseas. Worse than my mess with the robbery before I got here. I told you about that, didn't I?" He asked.

"Uh-huh," she nodded. Luca told her everything. She gave him a look that told him to get to the point.

"My cousins are stirring things up with the local gangs. I heard some of these kids don't care about honor. They'll take down whoever. I'm not letting that happen to you, alright? You can keep the apartment, and I'll take care of you. You don't have to worry about anything."

Luca included the promise while keeping his eyes on the leather shoes she'd helped him pick out that morning. There was a pause before she huffed, shaking her head.

"That's not good enough," she said quietly.

"What,"

"That," she stopped him, loud and firm now as she stood. "That is not good enough. It wouldn't be good enough on an average day, but it's definitely not good enough today when I just spent hours with your mother, promising her I'll be a good wife to her son and proving that I can cook. By the way, I almost divulged a secret family recipe for you, okay? Come spring, you're meeting me at St. Bernadette's, and we're getting married in that church."

Luca looked at her in some surprise. They always kidded, and he, for the most part, knew she loved him. But a tiny part of him that could be real loud sometimes, thought she'd jump at the chance not to marry him. At the very least, he thought she'd be okay postponing it. But spending the day with his mother on her own accord? Exchanging recipes? What was this side of her?

"Are you hearing me?" He asked anyway.

"Unfortunately so. I've been sitting here hearing you give up. I'm hearing you be a coward. You are a lot of things, Changretta, but chicken? That's new," she tsked, turning away from him.

She faced the other side of the room and placed a hand over her chest as discreetly as she could. She'd likely never admit it, but the pang she felt in her chest at the idea of walking out for the apartment without Luca was unbearable. How dare he make her love him and then do something like this? She heard him moving until he placed his warm hands on her shoulders.

"You are most important to me."

"And do you protect things you'll cherish from a distance?"

"If you were hurt,"

"Like now?"

There was silence until he let out a sigh. She could feel him trembling with aggravation and turned to reason with him only to find him laughing to himself.

"Why are you laughing, you sick monster?" She grimaced and moved away from Luca in case he was losing his mind before her very eyes. His husky laugh, the one she loved and reminded her of home, eased her while he rubbed his temples.

"I cannot believe I've found a woman who is so stubborn she won't let me leave her. As if it was your idea to get married in the first place."

"For fuck's sake." She rolled her eyes and moved to walk past him, only for Luca to sweep her into his arms.

"You're smart, huh?" He asked. She nodded immediately.

"I'd say so."

"Then I'm trusting you're thinking this through. I told you the problem, and you'd rather be with me instead of safe somewhere." He reminded her of what she was giving up. And still, she nodded without hesitation.

"If safe means all your hard work in getting me to stay with you goes out the window, and I lose something important to me, then I don't want it."

"Alright," Luca agreed. All he needed was her to say it.

Luca leaned down and pulled her into a kiss. He'd never stop worrying. But something told him that any person willing to go after the love of his life would have hell to pay. She was no docile thing, which was only proven when she moved away from him all too soon.

"And never say that to me again. You come home, and you tell me that you had a bad day, and we talk about it. Don't go deciding shit like that on your own," she scolded him, pressing her manicured nail into his chest. Luca grabbed her hand, pulling her into his chest with a chuckle.

"Yes, ma'am," he murmured against her cheek between kisses. He could feel her face warm from his caresses even as she told him he was too silly. She mumbled into his shirt, and he leaned back. "What was that?"

"That's not my name," she said with furrowed brows and a slight pout. He had to bite down on his knuckle not to laugh out loud. When she was this adorable, it went straight to his heart.

"You're a fucking riot, Blossom."

"Yeah, I am. And you're gonna be Mr. Blossom whether you like it or not."

"Yeah. Yeah, I am."

—

Mx Any Taglist: @cactisjuice

If you're a follower and would like to be on a taglist, please message me via dms or asks. You can be on a list for a specific character, for smut, or for any time I post.

[multiplefandomsblog]

request(s); IZURU SMUT WITH AFAB READER - IT DOESNT MATTER WHAT THE CONTENT INCLUDED IN IT IS,I JUST, NO ONE REALLY WRITES FOR THE SCARY M A N 😢😢😢

paring(s); Izuru x AFAB!reader

warning(s); cussing, woAHH reader is a prostitute hired by enoshima, reader is AFAB, oral sex (m receiving), humiliation kink whoop, degradation kink double whoop, ah yes dirty talk, degrading names, spit-play,  prositution, multiple orgasms, wall sex, slow and steady wins the race, dumbification, begging, dacryphillia, sadism, kind of like fuck or die???? but not really??????? AND DEAR LORD I HAD NO IDEA WHAT I WAS DOING WITH THIS GOD oii

note; i actually had a dream similar to this— also i lowkey got attached to these characters and now im seriously considering making a series of this???? DHSBJDDBF IDK IT REMINDS ME OF, LIKE AAAA IDK

wc; 4.1k+

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Everything was terribly boring. 

It was funny; that had been the only thought Izuru seemed to have in his brain, even as you were on your knees sucking him off like he was your last meal. Glaring down at you, he stifled a disappointed sigh. In all honesty, you weren’t bad; but he knows he could do much better, perhaps even find much better. It was almost a guarantee that he’d get someone else to do the job for him much better. 

Sitting on the throne of a comfortable chair, he had barely broken a sweat, nor had he even moaned a single time. Of course, that would frustrate you; you were squeezing whatever couldn’t fit in your mouth, ‘faking’ moans—or at least that’s what you told yourself you were doing—to send vibrations down his spine, and swallowing all the filthy pre-cum of his cock had released. And the man didn’t even have the gall to at least pretend to like it. 

It irritated you.

Why had he even accepted Enoshima’s offer for you if he hadn’t even been enjoying it? You hadn’t even touched yourself yet, and you were the one completely soaking in your panties—whilst you swore you heard him sigh, and not one of pleasure. Every part of it was humiliating for you.

“This is boring, get off.” You perked your head up, popping your lips off the unsatisfied pink tip, and to your humiliation, you looked up at him with sad, puppy dog eyes; ones that you hadn’t even purposely put on. You felt your heart drop all the way down to your stomach, “Boring…?” Well, that did it. 

Desperation turned into anger, and before you knew it, you had been crawling on this man’s lap, thighs straddling him, and hands digging into his shoulder as you looked down at him with feigned dominance. You gritted your teeth, he hadn’t a single reaction, just a look of genuine curiosity, and the same look of bored annoyance. He didn’t seem to like being suddenly touched, not like you even cared. Boring, huh? You’d prove to this self-entitled fuck, you weren’t as boring as he thought you to be. 

“... What do you think you’re doing?” With his question of genuine intent to know, his dull tone of voice seemed to have affected your interpretation of what he truly meant to say. Despite the condescending and almost offended tone, he truly wanted to know. Someone like you, crawling into his lap as if you hadn’t been face-to-face with possibly the world’s most dangerous human being; brought a small spark of interest in his chest.

Maybe you had some potential, he would think. “Are you trying to prove yourself to me?” With his eyes gleaming with curiosity and anticipation, you leaned back as you felt him lean in. With his nose inches away from yours, you shrunk just a slight but kept your act as strong as you could hold it for.

You gulped, gaze and grip faltering underneath his piercing gaze. Suddenly you felt small again. Your previous surge of dominance seemed to crumble and collapse as he brought his hands up to grope at your hips, reminding you who was really in charge here. He narrowed his eyes as he felt your hesitance and yielding, his large hands that had cupped your ass had practically been supporting all your weight as you backed down in the body and in mind. Damn it. He wondered where your confidence went, it was only just getting fun— but perhaps, all good things come to an end.

Well. He wasn’t going to let you give up that easily.

Suddenly, he let go, causing your ass that had once been held up by his hands, to fall back and knock onto his knees harshly; and you swore you could see a ghost of an expectant smirk on his face. Surprising you further, Izuru uttered 4 words that only seemed to confuse you, yet excite you all the same.

“Go on then. Try.” Your breath hitched, averted eyes now confused and focused them back onto the long-haired male. “W- what?” Izuru’s eyes narrowed at you, and the impatient look he had sent to you almost felt like a reward as you felt yourself growing more sodden. “Try and prove that you aren’t just another hole. That’s why you’re still here, no?” He spoke, and you swore you could hear his voice lower in tone.

He rested his hands on the armrests of his chair, leaning back ever so slightly as he got comfortable; as if he was about to watch a performance made just for him—which hadn’t been far from the truth.

But to your surprise and not his, you obeyed. 

If this was your chance to prove yourself to him— the ultimate hope that everyone seemed to be intimidated by—you’d take it. Of course, you would. 

Despite the growing anxiety in your heart that you’d mess up, you pushed it down and put one brave façade; he would sense your fear if you displayed it too much. 

Your efforts turned futile anyway; you should’ve known he’d sense your hesitance. 

Acknowledging your hesitance you thought hadn’t been too obvious about, Izuru brought it up. “What’s stopping you? Your fear?” Izuru hummed, leaning down to peck at your chest, “Well, that’s understandable; you should be scared.” Followed by the light sound of his lips against your heated shoulder. 

“... Though I assume that’s not what you’re afraid of at this moment.” Assume? More like knew. You were so predictable to him, a flick of your finger could tell him exactly what you’re thinking. With a tender gaze you were surely seeing wrong, he stared up at you expectantly as he waited for your answer. 

“Well?” You gritted your teeth at his sudden gentleness, taking more offence to it than you should have. You didn’t like being treated with kid gloves, not by him at least; for all you know, he kills children. “I’m not scared of anything—” He was huge, of course, you were terrified. ”How do you know I’m not just trying to slow it down, so you’re ready for it?” You challenged, shifting yourself above his tip that still glistened with your saliva from the earlier blow. Izuru looked at you, nearly taken aback. 

It made you feel incompetent. As if he thought you couldn’t do it, as if he thought you couldn’t give him the best night of your life. Of course, you’d be offended. No one likes being underestimated, especially not by him. It just brings you a whole new different feeling of humiliation. 

And he knew that. He just wanted you to hurry up, you know, provoke you a little. Foreplay was… Boring; he’d think with a small smile.

“Surely, you’re not that idio—” He cut himself off with a sharp inhale, lips parting and eyebrow twitching from the way your slick cunt slid over the tip of his dick, sinking in with ease. “I- I’m not what?” You breathed out, a shaky, smug grin contorting on your face as you tried your best to conceal the fact his dick had felt like it had literally been splitting you in two. “Hnnahh— Jesus-” You dropped your head for a second, nails digging deeper into the material of his suit; surprisingly, he didn’t care all that much about the material damage—at the moment, he cared more about the fact you hadn’t even sunk half his dick in yet, and you already looked like you were near-tears.

Maybe care would be an overstatement. 

You bit down on your once-smug smile, jaw going slack as you felt the pleasant curve of his dick, rub against your vaginal walls ever so slightly—following the movements of your own heavy panting. “You shouldn’t be so cocky, S/o.” He didn’t seem to hear the irony hiding in between his almost-mocking words.

You scoffed at his taunting statement, staring him straight in the eye as you walked further into his trap, and sunk down lower—stifling a wince as you felt him sink in you alarmingly deep. How big was he!? Well, you already knew the answer to that question. Your jaw still hurt from earlier. But that stretch had been positively incomparable to the stretch your pussy had currently been experiencing. 

Izuru pursed his lips, silently groaning at the way your walls clamped onto him as if you were already trying to milk him of his cum. You were so tight, he noted in his mind; well he wasn’t going to complain. As a sex worker, he would’ve expected you to be looser, easier to slip in; it seemed one of his predictions had been incorrect. 

In a dry, uncaring tone, he addressed the bead of sweat forming on your forehead from the stretch. “Can you really take it? You look like you’re in pain.” the part that irked you the most had been the small undertone of genuine concern for your being. Yeah, Izuru; the ultimate I-don’t-care-if-you’re-dead, cared if you could take his dick. 

Maybe your heart would’ve been swelling with joy, had it not taken a large hit on your pride. You were a sex worker, not the protagonist of a fucking romance comedy. 

You could feel yourself growing angrier and angrier by the second; a large part of you just wanted to get him off and leave—but there was a larger part of you that… strangely wanted to please this man, prove him wrong.

Don’t get me wrong, the urge was purely sexual. 

Rolling your eyes at his ‘concern’, “Can you just- Nh!” you held your breath before clutching onto his suit a little more desperately than you wanted to as you sunk the rest of him inside you. Embarrassment made its debut in your reddening cheeks as you unwillingly let a few whimpers slip out. “—B- be fucking quiet? For on- Mn! O- once?” He paused before retorting back in that same blunt tone, seemingly unamused by your curses as he had been busy watching your bodily reactions closely, as well as feeling them first hand. “... You’re shivering.” He addressed the tremor of your shoulders, as well as the contractions of your walls against his cock. 

“It- It’s cold.” You lied through your teeth, to which he found annoying; surely, you knew that he would read through that lie, so what was the point of even trying? 

Sighing in annoyance, he bucked his hips, exhaling sharply through his nose as you yelped and collapsed onto him, body going limp as you felt him hit your sweet spot. With a slightly panicked moan, you dug your shined face deeper into the crook of his shoulder, causing him to shiver as he felt the breath of your moan hit his neck. “Hnn-! A- a- already?” Izuru scoffed quietly, “I thought you wanted me to be quiet. Which one is it?” Izuru’s condescending voice kissed your ear, and you felt your own shivers being sent down your spine from his voice alone. 

Putting on an annoyed façade that would soon shatter, you rolled your eyes—something you would probably be doing often tonight. “You’re really annoying, you know th-? Oh-! Oh fuck-!” You moaned, eyes shooting open, revealing your dilated pupils to the wall behind him. With your hands fanned out on his suited back, you arched your back against him, grinding slowly as you hugged him off the back of his chair. 

Mewling quietly, you found yourself trying to stifle your own moans, so you could hear better his own; only to pout as you heard nothing. Your sole purpose and presence with him at this moment had been to please him. You… needed to please him.

And only Atua knows what Junko’ll do to you if she finds out you didn’t satisfy him. 

Sighing in slight frustration, you felt him tense underneath your touch as you locked your lips onto his neck, lips searching and exploring every inch of the sensitive skin of his neck. Izuru’s eyes widened a fraction, only to lid as he felt himself growing bored again. “What are you doing?” You muffled against his neck, “I’m trying to find your erogenous zone—“ a large grin grew on your face as you felt him go rigid and stiff against you—as if he wasn’t already rigid and stiff—as you grazed your teeth on a certain spot on his Adams’s apple, a sign that you hit the jackpot.

“There, huh? I never would’ve guessed…” You spoke through gentle moans caused by Izuru’s natural reaction to fuck up into you harder. He shivered, sure, he was good at everything; but even he didn’t know he had an erogenous zone—or rather, where it was.

And now you had this information. 

You felt your confidence sprout back up again as you felt him melt, slowly but surely into your embrace, and slowly but surely, you tried gaining back control of what had been happening. 

That had been your plan; but as soon as your hands reached up to tangle your fingers in his hair, he flinched, nails digging into your hips harshly. “Hands off.” He growled, crimson gaze darkening in irritation from your feather-like tugs. 

Yeah, your plan. 

His scalp was sensitive, and he had made the mistake of reacting so strongly to your touch to it, right in front of you no less. It was a weakness; one you’d surely take advantage of as you fucked this man. Or rather, as he fucked you. Izuru grimaced as he could practically hear the mischievous grin in your voice, “Yeah?” with a warning tone, Izuru tried stopping you, “S/o.” you probably shouldn’t have felt as excited as you did from his warning voice; especially from a guy like him, but there was a part of you that really wanted to know what would happen—what he was warning you about. 

So you made the best mistake of your life; and tugged the already impatient man’s hair. 

Izuru hadn’t given you the time to even inhale a single breath, as he had you pinned to the wall in half a second. Shit, he’s fast. Well, what did you expect? Izuru was definitely more than ordinary—and as you still felt the stretch burning between your legs, you knew that more than anyone. “I- Izuru?” Izuru sighed as you shrunk underneath his hold, forcing him to hold you up by his hips that had been pressed up against you. Your cattiness seemed to disappear the moment he manhandled you to the wall; it was predictable. All bark, no bite. He wondered why he wasted his time with you. 

With your eyes wide and helpless, Izuru remained unamused. “Let’s get this over with.”

Underneath the shell of your body, you could feel your blood boil as the man thrusting into you, had given you that familiar condescending stare of pity. He didn’t seem very pitiful as he watched you writhe and squirm underneath him from his unrelenting pace, though you could still read the emotion clear as day; your eyes glared right back at him—though you could barely see where you had been glaring, as your vision had been blurred from your own tears.

He was planning to push you to your limits, because, maybe when you’re sobbing and begging for him to stop; maybe then, you’d be less boring. 

‘He was the ultimate at everything; of course, he would be good at this too-’ “Fuhh...- fuck!” Your first orgasm of the night washed over your body, shaking uncontrollably as you had been less than prepared for it. You’d often have to fake your orgasms or get yourself off once the person using you was done. So you, whether it was fortunately or unfortunately, weren’t used to cumming so quickly. Previous thoughts of distaste had been long forgotten, as you had now been completely weak; moments away from breaking down and throwing away your dignity to prolong sex with Izuru. 

Sobs spilled out of your mouth as Izuru helped you ride out your high. The man watched you from above, hands hooking underneath your thighs and slamming you against the wall harder than your body had gone slack in your arms. For him, it felt more like he was pleasuring you—but for some reason, he didn’t mind all too much. 

Through tear-stained eyelids, you glared at him, your warm body still trembling from the near-mind-blowing orgasm he granted you. “I- I can take it.” At least, you thought you could. In all honesty, you didn’t care. You wanted it, and furthermore, he hasn’t even cum yet. Your job wasn’t finished. If you had to be fucked until your mind broke for him to cum, you’d do it. You didn’t have a choice—but even if you did, you wouldn’t deny him; you’d have to be insane to. 

“How... persistent…” Izuru murmured quietly to himself, bringing a hand up to tap your chin, causing you to perk your head up and flush at the gentle touch; the way he looked at you made you feel as if you were a mere science project being examined. It may have not been ideal, but being gazed at like nothing but a lowly bug is better than being ignored.  

It was so easy to fuck you into submission, he thought. Grunting, he pulled all the way out, lip twitching at the lewd squelch of your pussy. He almost lost himself in the way your walls fluttered around the tip of his cock once again, before tightening as if you were trying to welcome him back in.

Izuru, with a sharp inhale, roughly slammed back in, hitting all the right places despite the thrust being as quick as a flash of a camera. You gasped for air, you felt as if you had just been punched with his hips—and before you could recover from it, you felt him pull out yet again, only to slam back in, a small exhale huffing out the man’s lips as he kept on doing that same repetition. 

“F- faster— Pl- please!” You choked out as tears welled up in your eyes, his thrusts had been so powerful and forceful, yet so calculated; as if he was aiming for your G-spot every time he thrust in—which he was. He growled under his breath, voice still monotone but more strained than before—it was almost impossible for him.  

“You’re too tight to go fast.” He deadpanned, “if I go any faster, I might break you.” He didn’t really care whether he broke you, but who in their right mind would want to be broken? 

It was almost comedic how quickly you perked up at the mention of being broken. “I- I wanna! Really bad, r- real bad! Please!” You blabbered and begged like an idiot, your dignity long gone. He hissed at the way your pussy gushed with your juices and excitement, struggling yet again to piston himself into you. “Do you only think with your cunt?” Izuru narrowed his eyes down at you, disbelief and disgust gleamed in his red eyes; and it only made you squeeze around him unwillingly.

You shrunk, shaking your head as a babyish pout contorted onto your lips. “N- no, I-” The slow slapping noises of his hips on yours grew in volume, and your eyes widened as you could feel and hear him getting more frantic, hitting you deeper—places you were sure weren’t even supposed to be touched were abused by the crown of his growing cock.

Through a tone that tried its best to be calm and composed, Izuru shakily breathed out. “Open your mouth.” 

“W- Huh?” With slurred speech and crossed eyes, you tried your best to find his red eyes through the tears that blurred your vision. You were so fucked out, you weren’t even sure if he had actually said anything or if it had been your imagination.

“You heard me, don’t play dumb.” You hadn’t been playing dumb; you were dumbed. But Izuru held no patience for your games, and you could definitely feel that in his increasingly painful grip on your ass—he was sure to leave a bruise on your skin. With a confused look in your eye, you hesitantly dropped your jaw for him, whimpering and jolting as you felt something wet spew into your mouth. Before you could whine or even get the chance to complain, Izuru had forcefully knocked you against the wall again, lightly hitting your head as he steadied you against the surface with one hand as he used the other to close your jaw.

You hadn’t even registered the fact you had spit into your mouth as your mind had been too foggy from the intense feeling building up in your stomach once again. “Swallow.” Without so much as a questioning noise as a reaction to what he had done, you obeyed. Swallowing thickly with bleary eyes, you tried your best to keep eye contact with the man who seemed way too calm for the aggressive pace he had been maintaining like a pro.

Not thinking much of it, you dropped your jaw and flattened your tongue down against your chin; it was almost instinctual as you obediently showed him you had swallowed all of it. It seemed to please him, as he traced his thumb absentmindedly over your jawline; it almost felt like a reward, to be touched like that. His gentle hands differed greatly from his pace that fastened within each second that passed the both of you by. 

Your moans grew in volume, and you could feel yourself getting overwhelmed by how fucking good it felt to be fucked by him; moans and groans turned into full-blown hysterical sobbing as you felt your second climax approach. He grunted in frustration as he felt your walls clamp around him once again, convulsing as you gasped for air, his breaths huffing out in small intervals as he tried to get himself to his own high. 

Nothing was said as you threw yourself into him, hugging himself close to you as if he was your lifeline despite your twitching body—you weren’t sure how long you could hold on before you passed out, but you tried your best to stay conscious. He hadn’t cum yet.

It may have frustrated him, but it also frustrated you. Running your hands down his neck to his well-defined jaw, you cradled his skull before attaching your lips onto his neck desperately, practically slobbering over him like a dog as you kissed and sucked at his neck—to which he groaned quietly at. It was a terrible job, you were necking him so sloppily, and he hated himself for grading your performance when really, he should’ve been indulging in it.

The sounds of his hips slapping against yours, combined with your small moans that you tried to muffle against his neck, had overwhelmed his senses and he found himself going blank in the mind for less than half a second. 

It was dangerous, to leave yourself vulnerable like that. 

So without another word, sound, or thrust, he hoisted you up and dropped you against the chair; in which you unravelled like a velvet carpet over the soft, plush furniture. Your legs wrapped around his waist as you didn’t want to part from him, you didn’t want it to stop. There, he continued his assault to your already battered cunt, grunts and sharp sighs spilling out his mouth as he concentrated on getting himself to climax. 

“F- fuck, Izuru— Izuru, you’re splitting me- in t- two!” You sobbed out, arms flying up to wipe your tears away that prevented you from seeing the esthetical man above you. With his hair looking like it was flowing behind him, and the thin layer of sweat shining on his skin, you felt your heart beat a little faster— what?

You hadn’t even been able to register the dread of the realization of your feelings, as, without warning, Izuru creamed inside you. His hips stuttered to a stop, and he leaned himself completely over your body that had folded over the back rest of the chair, nose meeting the crook of your mid-chest. “Hhah...” He panted, clammy hands that had been gripping onto your skin tightly, loosened as he took a second before getting up and off you. 

You scrambled up from your position on the chair, legs and pussy numb as you struggled sitting up.“Wait Izuru—!” You called out for him, catching his attention as he cleaned himself up with a convenient towel Junko had left on the table. 

Zipping up the fly of his pants, he stared at you, waiting for you to continue what you had been planning to say as he flattened the creases of his suit. 

“W- were you...” You gulped, flushing as you recalled what you had done earlier. “Were you satisfied?” Your voice had been meek, afraid of his answer for more than one reason. Junko really would show you despair if she found out you didn’t satisfy him. “... I’ll let her know I was.” You sighed in relief, shoulders going slack as you fell back on the chair. You’d live another day.

[hotdamnhunnam]

Shades of You

A/N: Here’s the next in this ‘Kutte Too Deep’ series of flashbacks set in the AU of Kutte to Black! These fics can be read as standalone one shots or as part of this ‘KutteVerse’. This one is just a short ficlet of fluffy smut about you being Jax’s muse and the two of you having hot passionate sex outdoors…

Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk, a fuck in the park (it’s a secluded little spot of greenery – no one else is actually watching but they could be in theory)

Word Count: ~1.2k

“Babe, can you do that again?”

You glance up from the book that you were just about to begin. In these few weeks since you and Jax became a thing, you’ve spent the better part of all day and night fucking, though you pause from time to time to take his Harley for a ride or something. Head off someplace far from all the dusty streets of Charming. Pack a picnic so that you can spend a lazy afternoon feeding each other grapes and talking. 

For today’s outing Jax also packed a notebook, as he told you that he’s recently been bursting with a surge of inspiration for the novel he’d spent years struggling to write. Apparently just finding the right muse was all it took. He wants to churn out a whole chapter sitting in this park with you, admiring the sunlit view. Promised he’ll let you read his work after he treats you to another epic fuck later tonight.

Meanwhile you’re reclining on this big plaid picnic blanket with the paperback you’d packed, to catch up on some summer reading. But your badass biker boyfriend seems determined to distract. You’re not sure what he means by what he asked—‘do that again’ when you’re not doing much of anything—you’ve literally just been breathing.

From where he’s sitting on a rock nearby with his manuscript spread across his jean-clad thighs, Jax catches the confusion in your eyes. And so he clarifies. “The way you blinked real quickly twice. It was just really nice. Your lashes looked like butterflies.”

Oh Jesus Christ. He’s so fucking adorable, it’s honestly deplorable. You swoon and giggle, playing into it a little. Batting your lashes theatrically and shooting him a sultry look. Still have no clue, just what he sees in you, and yet somehow his every move makes you believe you’re the loveliest thing in the world. “Now if I didn’t know better, Mr. Teller… I’d think you were sketching me rather than writing a book. Draw me like one of your French girls.”

He laughs sunny and bright, shaking his head at your reference to the tear-jerker the two of you just watched the other night. Never did Jax Teller think he would spend a weekend getting all sappy romantic. Asking his girl if she wanted to cuddle and stay up late watching Titanic. 

“Hey, I’d take any excuse to get you naked...” your tall blonde prince charming admits as he sets his notebook aside and strides across the grass to join you on the blanket, “but I promise I’m not a nude lady artist. Just an aspiring writer in love with his muse and everything inspiring about her because she’s the hottest.”

Jax brings his big strong body down to yours and then blesses your lips with a soft kiss to prove that he’s honest. Pulls back to adore you with his gaze of blue. “You’re in everything I do. I see the world in shades of you.”

Fuck—every word that he breathes is a sonnet. This love is a drug, and you’ll live and die riding high on it. “You’re corny as fuck and I love you.”

Grins darkly and grinds the stiff bulge of his cock against your crotch as he knows how badly you want it. “I’m horny as fuck, too.”

“Mmm, what else is new...”

Without words, with the crush of his summer-lush lips against yours, he replies though you already know this is true: Everything is shiny and new when I’m with you.

Every damn time feels like the first. Everything blurs, present and future ever fading into past. The thrust of untold fate—the rushed soul-crushing weight, the fucking curse—compels you both to take each time like it’s the last.

The man in him loves smooth and soft and full of slow sensuous passion. But the beast in him moves rough and hard and fast. The fucking sex god that is Jackson. Barely even needs a second or a fraction, for his huge cock to get rock solid once he is at half-mast.

Moan into his mouth at the feeling of his denim-covered length. Rubbing against the flimsy fabric of your skirt, so hard it hurts. His hand caresses your cheek, giving you the strength, to take this love that makes you weak. Love beyond words. Your tongues were made to tangle up and taste the truth too big to speak.

Sometimes he says it anyway, though you both know he means more than the words could ever say. Says it a thousand times a day.

“Love you so fucking much,” he murmurs and the love tastes so delicious, in the blissful midst of kisses, as you melt beneath his touch.

Jax’s hand wanders from your face down toward your chest, shape of his grip made for your breasts. Beat of your heart rewrites the lines across the palm to which it’s pressed. His other hand is frantically unfastening his fly, then hiking up your skirt with a firm squeeze against the slick flesh of your inner thigh. So pleased yet not surprised to find that you’re already a wet mess. Both know there’s no one else nearby... no witness, other than the sky... but still out here it seems safest, to free his meat and push your panties to the side but otherwise stay dressed.

And so he does and wastes no time driving in deep until his dick hits home inside your soaking hole. So deep it hits your fucking soul. Hits every time and it’s the motherfucking best.

Something so blessed... has to be cursed. You think that way sometimes and it’s the fucking worst. Like fate is twisting you to tempt the pearly gates ahead and this is just a test. 

But when his hips are thrusting perfectly in sync with yours... his throbbing cock pounding and plowing through your pussy till it bursts... there’s nothing else on earth that matters—nothing else in all the universe... just ride this crest of pleasure, high together, as you crash the pearly gates until they shatter, and to hell with all the rest.

Sun spreads its golden heat and sheds light through the overhanging tree. So long content to shine upon this rock that orbits in its gravity—yet seething now in envy—so enraged at the eclipse, the air you’re breathing off his lips, the fire in his fingertips, so hot and heavy—heavenly. He is the only sun you’ll ever see.

The sun and shadow all at once. Heaven is here on earth yet someday hell will come claim what it wants. Can’t beat it back. But you don’t have to when he’s buried in your cunt. Beneath the shade of Jax, all else just fades to black.

You see the world in shades of him. Just as he does of you.

You love him, as he loves you, and you’ll make this love until the jealous sun burns out above you... even if it tempts the other stars to take it from you.

***************

Hope you enjoyed this and would love to hear if you did! 🤗❤️

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[missymurphy1985]

First Time

Cillian's a sweet, innocent 18 year old from Cork, who's about to move to Dublin to kick-start his acting career. His eyes are suddenly opened to a new world of opportunity and possibility.

Warnings - loss of virginity / smutty one shot

Taglist - @margoo0 @peakyscillian @queenshelby @janelongxox @noctvrnalmoth

"How are you doing Cill?" You walked into your best friend's house to find him at the dining table, looking through a handwritten list in his hands.

"Just checking I've got everything I need for the train in the morning - god I'm nervous!" You kissed the top of his head affectionately and squeezed his shoulder.

"It's going to be fine, okay? I know this is a change of direction for you, but you've already proved how good at this you are!" You'd seen him onstage at a local venue in Cork city the previous month and he'd blown you away with how good an actor he was. So confident, striking, and dare you say it, handsome..

"It's still performing, y/n, that's what I want. This feels right though. The music thing was fun, but this feels right. I wish you could come with me?"

"I have university, and you know my father isn't letting me leave Ballintemple anytime soon," you laughed. Your father, the local police chief, was incredibly overprotective, didn't want his daughter anywhere near the bright lights of Dublin city. Cillian's parents were much more easy going, and had welcomed you into their family almost as a third daughter, since you'd met in high school. "Think of the women you'll meet! All those city girls out on the town!" You saw his head drop slightly, and the smile vanished.

"Yeah.." he looked out the window.

"What's wrong?" You sat next to him at the table and took his hand. He'd never know what the touch of his skin did to you and that's how it would stay.

"Promise me you won't laugh, yeah? Promise me?" He held up his pinky finger to clasp it with yours. A ritual you'd had since the day you met.

"Can't break a pinky promise!" You laughed, as he quickly looked round to check the house was still empty.

"Okay.. I've never.. I've never done anything.. with a woman.." he was visibly nervous and his hands were shaky. You were shocked. Neither of you had spoken about your personal encounters with anyone else, you just assumed he'd had a few of the local girls - good looking guy, toned, slender body, confident.. this was a complete surprise to you and your face clearly expressed your shock.

"Well... Um..."

"You think I'm daft now don't ye?" He pulled his finger away from yours and fell back onto his chair.

"No. No I don't. I think.." you gulped, "I think I know what we can do.." his neck turned sharply to look at you.

"Help me? Y/n I'm not calling Marie..." His ex. She'd left him when she found out he was moving away. They'd only been dating a month or two but long enough for him to think she was actually the one he'd give himself to.

"No, god no, she's had more men than hot dinners Cill, you're well shot of her. The only thing she'd give you is something you'd need antibiotics to get rid of!" You both laughed at this. "Is anyone home?" He shook his head. His siblings were at school for another couple of hours, both his parents were at work and wouldn't be home until at least 5. You stood up and brought him to stand with you.

"You remember the pact we made? When we were 14?" You ran your hands over his shoulders. He took a deep breath and shook his head. There was a flick of recognition in his eyes, did he just want you to say it?

"We promised that if we were still virgins at 18, we'd take care of it together.. Well, we're 18 now..." You pulled him closer. You'd nearly lost yours the year before, but you didn't feel ready.

"You haven't...?" You shook your head. "We were just kids, y/n.. I can't let you do this -" your lips were on his in an instant. He was hesitant at first, before he gave in and returned the kiss passionately.

"I want to.. I've wanted to for a long time.. but then you got with Marie and I just figured it had already happened.."

"No.. just hadn't got round to it.. never felt right.."

"And does this? Does this feel right?" You took his hand and placed it on your chest. Moving it down, under your shirt and over your bra-covered breast. He gasped your name and you felt his hardness pressing into your stomach through his baggy sweatshorts.

"Yes.. this feels right.." his lips were on yours again before you pulled away to lead him up the stairs. Pushing open his door you turned to face him and lifted your t-shirt over your head slowly. His eyes watching your every move. He moved closer, his hands behind you unclasping your bra.

"Easier than they look those things..."

"Sit down on the bed yeah? I wanna try something..." He sat down, and you knelt in front of him, pulling his shorts down his knees. You gasped at his hard cock, springing up and already leaking a little. "You might have to guide me..." he smiled, and took your hand. Placing it around his cock, he moved it up and down. You carried on as he moved his hand to rest on your face softly.

"Jesus... Fuck that feels good.. bit tighter yeah?" You smiled, gripping him tighter. His hand moved closer to your mouth as you stroked him, and he brushed his thumb over your lips. You instinctively opened your mouth and his thumb moved inside, your tongue licking it slowly. You looked up into his eyes, the way his mouth moved as his breath became heavier was driving you crazy - you could feel wetness between your legs and a sudden need for him deep within you. You loved watching him moan. He pulled you closer, your face now inches away from his cock as you realised what he wanted. Nervously, you placed your mouth over the tip, and slowly started to move him further down into your mouth. You quickly found a rhythm, and began to bob your head up and down.

"Suck.. just a little.. please.." he gasped as your mouth took him. You complied and the throbbing between your legs intensified as his moans became almost primal.

"Shit... Oh... Slow down, Jesus..." Slowing down was NOT part of your plan. You wanted to taste him. Your mouth bobbing up and down quicker. "You need to stop... Fuck... Y/n.. aahh..." You felt his balls tighten as he shot deep into your throat, unable to hold back any longer. You swallowed down what you could, but the force of it made some leak down your chin. Your fingers swiped it off your face and you licked it off slowly.

"That was amazing... You taste good!" You moved your body up to kiss him, making him taste himself in the process.

"You're so beautiful y/n.. you know that?" You smiled, his compliment gave you goosebumps, made your heart soar. For years you'd wanted this, and now it was happening.. the night before he left the city, but still...

"I can feel this throbbing feeling down there... Wanna help me take care of it?" You pushed him down onto the bed and lay next to him, bringing his hand between your legs. He moaned softly feeling the warm dampness between them. You opened your legs and he leaned up slightly, exploring your body. Finding your folds with his fingers, he opened them, running a finger from the bottom to the top, noticing how you gasped when he reached a small bundle of skin near the top. You grabbed his hand and moved it down to collect some of the moisture leaking out of you, before bringing it back up to circle the little nub slowly. Your body started to writhe, your moans getting a little louder as he started to pleasure you, and your hand moved away allowing him to continue.

"That feels good.. don't stop..." He planted small kisses along your shoulder, gasping as he felt your hand curl around his semi-hard shaft again. "Feels so good... Oh god... Cillian...." You felt him shift down the bed, fingers suddenly away from you. You looked down to see him lay between your thighs, placing small kisses on the insides of them, moving closer to your core.

"What are you - oh!!" His tongue quickly found your clit again, running circles over it as a finger teased your hole slowly. You tensed in anticipation.

"Baby relax..." He continued on your clit and slowly eased a finger inside you. "Fuck you feel good... So fucking tight..." He could've come again just from this, but he held back. You threw your head back as your orgasm started to build. This was better than any orgasm you'd ever given yourself, his tongue working magic over you. You suddenly felt a second finger enter you, but you couldn't tense up, your body was in a state of its own now.

"Cill... Don't stop, I'm gonna cum.. please..." You sat up as the force of your orgasm swamped you. Your hips riding against his mouth as you came over him. You had to pull his tongue away before you alerted the neighbours to what was happening, but his fingers remained inside you, gently pumping away.

"I can feel you clenching me.. fuck that was incredible y/n.." he pulled his fingers away, and moved his body on top of yours.

"Do you have a condom?" He looked into your eyes hoping to God that you did, but knowing it was highly unlikely..

"No, but I've been on the pill for a while now.. and we're virgins, so we know we're both clean. Go for it..."

"You sure you wanna do this?"

"I've never wanted anything more in my life." He lined himself up against your entrance and pushed his way in slowly. Breathing hard, trying to control himself - he didn't wanna end this too soon. You both looked down to watch as his cock slowly began to disappear inside you. He stopped when he felt a barrier, he couldn't go any further.

"This is gonna sting... But it won't last long.. I'm right here okay?" He whispered in your ear gently. Despite his inexperience, he'd heard his friends talking about sex enough to know this part would be uncomfortable for you. You kissed his lips, and brought a hand down to rub your clit softly, relaxing you. "Jesus woman... That's one way to relax huh?" You smiled and brought your legs over his waist, urging him. He pulled back a little, and with a kiss to your lips he thrust inside, groaning deeply from the feeling of being buried in you, breaking the seal. You cried out, it did sting... And you felt tears in your eyes. Cillian paused, allowing you time to adjust, and softly kissed your cheeks. The pain subsiding now, you felt so full and warm.

"You can move.. go slow.." he began to ease in and out slowly, gritting his teeth at the glorious friction surrounding his cock, willing himself to hold on from exploding in you.

"You feel amazing... Fuck y/n... Oh god..." He picked up the pace, hips grinding into yours. You raised your hips to meet his thrusts, and the pleasure coursing through you took your breath away. He adjusted his angle slightly, and pushed in, when the amount of pleasure you felt from that thrust caused you to cry his name.

"I don't know what you did, but do it again... Right there!!" He moved again to find that spot that clearly drove you wild, finding it quickly and aiming for it with every thrust into you. His hands were either side of your head, gripping onto the bed sheets as he started to pound into you relentlessly. Your back was arching again, this feeling was so new, but so fucking good..

"I think... Oh god Cillian I think I'm gonna cum again..." Neither of you were expecting this, you had no idea a woman could orgasm from sex alone.. it washed over you quickly, your core on fire as he continued to fuck you.

"Baby... I can't hold it..." You lifted his face up from your neck, you wanted to watch his face when he came. His eyes scrunched closed, mouth falling open silently as he came hard and deep inside you. Your orgasm extended into bliss as you watched him, and heard his primal groan as he finished spurting, you could feel it lining your insides.

You held him as he rested his lips against the crook of your neck, both of you panting against each other.

"Fuck that was good..." He pulled out of you, coming to rest next to you on the bed. You leaned into him, his arm pulling you close.

"Come with me?" He lifted your face up to meet his, kissing your lips softly.

"You know I can't.. my Dad.."

"I'll talk to your Dad - he loves me more than you." You punched his arm playfully. Your Dad did think very highly of Cillian, that's for sure. He wouldn't if he knew what Cillian had just done with his only daughter though! "You don't start uni for a few months, I'll be gone for a couple of weeks and I don't think I can wait that long to do this again..."

"You want to do this again?" You were sat up now, stunned at what you just heard.

"I wanna do that to you every single day for the rest of our lives y/n.. can't do that if I'm in Dublin and you're still here, now can I?" You were in shock.. what was he saying?

"You mean, you want me? To be your girl?"

"Y/n, you've always been my girl - just never made it official did we? Be mine, yeah?"

"I've always been yours, about time you noticed." You brought him close to kiss him again, your whole future playing out in both your minds, and you couldn't wait to get started on it.

[thesmokingguns]

Phone Tag

Word count: 3512

Requested: “My idea was that the reader thought Kelly was cheating on her on tour, and when he comes home, he finds her really upset and comforts her and assures her that he only loves her”

Requested by @littlemisscare-all

A/N: I just want to thank @littlemisscare-all for the request and letting me message her about questions I had. Kelly Nickels is a new character I’m writing and she was patient with my questions and so helpful. This is a little longer than my usual one shots so I hope you like it. I have three requests I need to write on top of my regular stuff I want to put out so feel free to make a request but I’m going to say the time might be up to a week now. I also have a tag list you can be added to by just messaging me or filling out the form. Please let me know what you think ❤️

Tag List: @thenobodies-inc , @littlemisscare-all , @agroupiewhore, @ayablackwood

Ring, Ring, Ring

The constant sound of the phone trying to connect with room 828 was filling my head. The high pitched sound bouncing around your mind as you wished he’d  pick up. After another minute of the phone going unanswered you hung up, wiping my sweat filled palms on the denim dress hastily.

You could see your fingers trembling, the anxiety of the situation coming out in physical ailment as your trembling hands started to get numb. You shook out your hands, flexing them, cracking them, pushing them together, anything to just calm yourself down enough to feel them again. Your heart was beating so fast that it felt like it had turned on its engine and got lodged in your throat when it pressed the gas. You couldn’t swallow down the pounding so you tried instead to take a gulp of air. Breathing in through your nose and out of your mouth. In through your nose and out through your mouth. Even though you felt like you were not getting enough air when you breathed through your nose you continued anyway trying to calm your body that seemed to be fighting you.  You were trying anything to try and stop the full fledged anxiety attack from coming on.

You stepped back into the store, trying not to make eye contact with your friend and coworker as you started to fold the sweaters  on the front side table. Your hands needed to stay busy as you tried to avert your eyes from anyone, tears pooling in them. You couldn’t think about the situation or you’d start crying. But fuck, it had been almost a week since You had heard from your boyfriend. Your hand went to my pocket, pulling out the ripped out notebook paper Kelly had given you with the name, date, room number and phone number for each hotel. He was supposed to be in Phoenix in room 828 at the Hilton Hotel. Which you had already called seven times throughout the day without any response.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Your coworker touched your shoulder and you let out a sob, hands flying to your face. The feeling of someone touching you after the last month of being alone was too much. You broke feeling the loneliness blanketing over you, covering you. Your coworker was leading you to the breakroom, thankful no one was in the shop to see you have a complete mental breakdown.

He had promised you that you would talk every day; he had seen the nervous look in your eyes when the guys talked about the tour. All the girls that would be throwing themselves at the band. They were all about the three fundamentals: sex, drugs and rock n roll. How were you going to compete with something you weren't there to see?

“Jesus Fucking Christ, where the fuck is that paper?” Kelly was tearing apart the tour bus looking for a yellow piece of legal paper that you had written down all the numbers to call you on. He had lost it a week ago after he had drunkenly started a shot game with Phil that night and that had proved to be a horrible mistake.

When he had woken up, on the kitchen floor of the tour bus, a hangover so bad he wanted to fling himself into the highway all he could think about was calling the person that he loved and telling her about his night. The sound of her voice coaxing the hangover out of him and filling him up with the love she had for him. He had pushed himself off the floor, grabbing his cigarettes from his jacket and digging in the inside pocket for the list of numbers, but the paper was gone.

It had been six days since he had lost the numbers and as much as he tried to remember a phone number he couldn’t even think of one. He had expected a phone call to explain everything but the problem was that phone call had never come. This was just another layer of frustration that Kelly couldn't figure out. For the first few weeks of the tour he had gotten the calls at the hotel but a night before he lost the number the call hadn’t come in.

So now, being the very logical, even headed, and not complete maniac that he was, Kelly was tearing apart every single part of the tour bus. Ripping open trash bags, pulling apart beds, and crawling under the table that had a weird sticky substance underneath. As he pushed half drank beer cans aside he saw the flap of yellow sticking out. His heart leapt to his throat as he snatched up the paper, flipping it over and groaning audibly. The paper had gotten saturated. One number was partially visible with only a couple numbers melting together.

Walking off the tour bus he headed over to the payphone, setting a handful of change on the metal bottom as he started to dial different combinations of the number hoping that he could finally reach his girlfriend. Hoping that her lack of calls to him didn’t mean they had broken up or what if she had met someone else? She did have that fucking girlfriend who didn’t like him. What if she had gone out to The Roxy and met someone else?

He gripped the paper so hard in his hand as the phone rang and he thought of you with someone else. He needed to talk to you,

You were walking home, unable to work as your mind went a million miles a minute. Your heart thumping so loudly that your own thoughts were muted and just scenarios were popping in your head. Images of Kelly with his arm around another girl, disheveled hotel rooms with discarded clothes, his lips worshiping someone else's body. You stopped on the sidewalk closing your eyes, fists tightening as you told yourself not to scratch your arms. It was all in your head. This was all in your head and not real.

Another shaky step towards your apartment. Your eyes were on the payphone at the end of the block and you figured you could try one more time to call the hotel. Maybe when you heard his voice it would put out the fire of your mind. He could calm your anxiety, easing you from the panic attacks it caused and draw you in with the safety of his voice. He must have known how crazy you were going and when he finally talked to you he would have a logical explanation for why he had disappeared.

As you convinced yourself that he was going to answer this time, you could feel the burning bile in your gut start to be put out as the rational part of your mind tried to make a little room for you to have hope. The way your hands trembled as you took out a dime, sliding it into the slot and dialing the number, let you know that the temporary band aid your rational side had put on your anxiety wasn’t going to stick for very long. If Kelly didn’t answer it was going to be ripped off and you’d be left with the exposed wound that you would need to deal with..

Ring...Ring...Ri-

“Hello?” your heart caught in your throat, and you could feel your eyes widening as you heard a voice answer the phone on the other end, “Hello, is anyone there?” The very female voice that was answering the phone was not your boyfriend.

“Kelly?” his name left your lips, almost a whimper. All of the worst situations that you imagined could be happening in your head seemed to come to life now. It wasn’t just in your head, a woman was answering his hotel phone.

“Ohhhh, they’re in the shower. If you call back in an hour-” you hung up the phone. It took you four tries before you could get the receiver on the cradle because the shaking in your hand was running through your entire body now. You tried to crack your fingers, a weak attempt to get some control of the motions of your body.

In the shower. If he was taking a shower at 4pm what was he washing off of himself? Who was the girl who had answered the phone? Had he not answered because he had been so busy with her all day? You dry heaved in front of the payphone, sucking in air when nothing came out. You wanted to go home and hide, burying yourself under blankets until the weight of the sadness lifted. Not that you were sure it was ever going to lift because you had just caught him cheating on you.

It was a miracle that you made it to the apartment. You dropped your keys twice, your hands not working how they were supposed to. Your grip on them slipping and letting them fall through your fingers. Had you let Kelly fall through your fingers?

You hissed out a curse, shouldering into your apartment and locking the door behind you. You were off of work tomorrow so you could stay holed up inside the apartment for at least twenty four hours before anyone would think to call. That gave you time to wallow in your emotions and feel everything you needed to feel.

Looking around at the space it dawned on you that you would need to leave. Separate your things and get out of the city before he comes back to it. Which didn’t give you enough time at all because he would be back in two days for the LA show at the Whisky a Go Go, Where were you going to live? Maybe you could find a roommate or you could always stay with your best friend. She would let you in. There was so much to do and so much to figure out but you needed to lay down and figure it out from the comfort of the bed.

On the way to the bed you tripped over the phone you had kept beside it for the past few days hoping for Kelly to finally call you. You looked at the phone hanging off the hook, knowing if anyone called you they would just get the busy signal but you didn’t hang it back up. Kelly was too busy in some hotel room with a strange girl and he hadn’t bothered to call you in a week anyway. You needed to just get in bed and mourn your relationship. You’d move out tomorrow and start a new life without him.

Kelly hung up the phone, looking at his apartment phone number that the girl at the shop had just given to him. He had missed you by twenty minutes and from what he had just heard you were in bad shape.He sucked in his bottom lip as he dialed the home number. He would explain everything to you as soon as he had you on the phone. He could already picture you asking him if he had at least won the drinking game.

“What the fuck?” He looked at the phone when he got the busy signal. It had to be the right number. He had repeated the number twice to make sure that he got the correct number and now he was getting a busy signal. He dialed again, getting the same alert sound. Then again. And again. He stopped after constantly calling for ten minutes to take a breath. He was going to need to have a beer and try again.

He tried calling twenty minutes later, an hour, three hours, and before he went on stage for the show. His mind was thinking of how you could be on the phone for that long. He frowned as he grabbed his bass going over to the band's manager. He needed to get home sooner than the tour bus would take him.

You got out of the shower, wrapping your sweater around you over your nightgown. Your eyes skimmed the apartment where you had spent the last four hours cleaning like a maniac and separating everything. Your records were in a milkcrate by the door, along with a trash bag of all your clothes. Things like pots and pans didn’t seem worth fighting over. You would leave those for him. Even though you weren’t even sure if Kelly knew how to fry an egg.

Twirling a piece of hair around your finger you tried to calm the uneasy feeling filling you. He had been the one who hadn't answered your calls or called you. He was the one who had a girl answer the phone in his room. He wanted you to leave but he didn’t want to see the hurt he caused by telling you it was over. Your friends had all warned you about dating a rockstar so it wasn’t like you could expect much sympathy from them. But you had been with Kelly for over a year and hadn’t seen it coming. It felt like you were blindsided. To love someone so much had really just opened you up to the pain you were feeling now.

Moving to the bedroom you looked around the room, the pit of your stomach turning in sadness as you thought about this being the final time you sleep in this bed. The tears boiling up and tumbling down your face as you sat on his side, touching the pillow that he slept on. You could smell his aftershave and scent on his pillow just making you cry even harder. The feeling in the pit of your stomach growing as you missed someone who was gone.

Over your tears you didn’t hear the sound of the front door opening. You were wrapped around a pillow mind racing in a thick fog of all the reasons you weren’t good enough. Why couldn't he love you? Could anyone love you?

“Y/N, baby, what’s wrong?” Arms were wrapped around you. You were being pulled onto a lap, hair pushed away from your tear stained face.

“K-Kelly?” It comes out weekly, almost afraid you’re hallucinating arms wrapped around you, fingers touching your tears, pushing the puddles that gathered on your skin with an expert flick of a thumb.

“Yeah, baby, I’m here. What happened? Why are you so upset? Who do I need to fight?” He was trying to defuse the situation with humor to drag you out of your hysterics. But he was the one that had gotten you to this place.

Sitting up you pushed yourself off his lap, a frown forming on his face from this action. You could feel the way your hands were starting to go numb as you wiped your tears, knowing there was going to be a confrontation with him.

“I called you for a week, Kelly. I called all the numbers multiple times a day and you didn’t answer. You didn’t call me back.” The way he frowned at this didn’t go unnoticed by you. You took it as a sign of his guilt. He had been ignoring you on purpose. “And I called this afternoon and a girl answered from your hotel room.” He stood up suddenly shaking his head.

“No, no, no.” You rolled your eyes at his weak attempt to lie about the fact you had spoken to a girl that was in his room, “Oh fuck, we didn’t even check into the hotel today. I was on the tour bus looking for the list of numbers you had written down for me.” He was digging into his leather jacket pocket looking for the yellow paper. You were trying to process what he was saying.

“But they said you were in the shower when I asked for you.” You said with a frown, trying to process what he was saying. It would be easy to believe him, tryst him blindly and forget all the drama but there were so many things that just weren’t adding up. He produced the yellow list holding it up with the missing pieces and wet pen running into a blurred mix of ink.

“Call the hotel now. I’m obviously here with you. Maybe they heard you wrong?” He knew you needed real proof. He looked at the phone on the floor that was off the receiver, “I tried to call you today. I guess this explains the busy signal.” He moved to hang it back up.

“I called you and you didn’t answer all week and you didn’t even call me once.” You pointed out. “You’re on tour with all your horny band members and I’ve been out with you all before.” You didn’t want to ask him because you knew that he would answer you honestly. He couldn’t lie to you, even on little things he was always 100% honest. Which you had found out one night when you tried on a new dress and asked how you looked and he had told you the dress looked like a rejected extra from a Cyndi Lauper music video.

“I lost the phone numbers when I was drinking with Phil one night. It took me a week to find them on the bus.” He confessed. That story seemed pretty on par for who they were, “And are you asking if I was stupid enough to cheat on you?” At the words you went white, gripping the sheets. Kelly took in your reaction and knew that’s exactly what you were thinking had happened. “Listen, Y/N.” He moved over to the bed gripping your face in his hands, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs and giving him a soft smile, “I love you. Just you. And I wouldn’t do anything to ever lose your love. I spent a week trying to find a paper just so I could hear your voice. I was waiting for you to call all week, baby. Why didn’t you call me?” The soft way he spoke was melting the ice in your veins, calming you with the right touches and bringing you to the current situation happening in real life and not just in your head.

“I called you so much. I called all the hotels that you told me to call. But you never answered me.” You pointed to a crumpled up ball on the nightstand. Watching him grab it and smooth out the page of numbers.

“Oh shit.” He rubbed his chin and looked up at you with an almost embarrassed look. You knew exactly what that look was. He had made a mistake, “So, um, these hotels are out of order. I must have copied them backwards because this one.” He pointed at the last hotel you had called today. “Should have been here.” He pointed a few up and you sighed in relief. The tears still came flowing out but this time in relief, “I’m an idiot. I’m sorry, baby.” He reached out, folding you to him. Your body was relaxed, allowing him to calm you with his back rubs and head kisses. Comforting you by holding you in his arms and reminding you that he loved you with his touch.

“I’m sewing my name and our telephone number into all your clothes tomorrow.” You muttered after a little while. He chuckled, kissing the top of your head.

“Next time, just come on tour with us. That way we never have to worry about playing phone tag.” You nodded your head listening to his heart beat. “We’re going to have to spend tomorrow morning unpacking your stuff. But I do respect your commitment to cut ties so thoroughly that you organized the records.” He got the laugh out of you that he was looking for. You sat up, shrugging your shoulders.

“I was just looking for an excuse to steal your Bowie records.” You teased him. He scoffed, pulling you to lay down beside him.

“I flew back here to be with you, Y/N. The least you could do is not threaten to steal my records.” Kelly pulled you close to him. “Do you feel better now that I’m back?” The concern in his voice warmed you to the core. You nodded your head at him. “Now you know you’re stuck with me and how wrapped around your finger I am.” You sighed out softly, eyes heavy as you felt like you could finally get some sleep after having a week of anxiety dreams and panic attacks preventing you from getting more than a tossing turning sleep for the week.

“Maybe next time send me a postcard to let me know you love me.” You said through a sleepy haze.

“Maybe I’ll train carrier ducks to send messages. Or learn how to do smoke signals.” A smile slipped out as you cuddled closer letting him lull you to sleep with his soft touches and soft mutters. He loved you, you could feel it. And that was all you needed

[abbynx]

How would the La Squadra family react to you having a crush on the former boss' daughter, Trish Una? An 'everyone lives' AU because I am in denial. This is going to be a long one as a one-shot, so I made it to headcanon form.

TW: Mentions of injuries, blood, and death

Genre: Platonic, Found family

~ Found and raised by Risotto and the entirety of La Squadra, you grew up within the vicinity of the underpaid mafiosi as a remarkable kid who has extensive knowledge about offing someone without leaving evidence. Well, not that you would be doing that, it's just that they thought teaching you some basics might help you if ever the moment comes and you'll find this useful. That, and self-defence too. ~ You were always under the watchful eye of anyone in the La Squadra, so you found yourself being sneaky just so you can escape them at times without being noticed. They were uber protective of you and to be honest, it can be overbearing at times. ~ You get along with all of them, as you were quite the chameleon. You can match with Prosciutto's stern and strict attitude, be as brooding and intimidating as Risotto, have fun and make jokes like Formaggio, etc etc. ~ Everything was alright, of course, but there's the fact that the assassin branch of Passione were being underpaid, I mean come on. The group begrudgingly accepted this, until Gelato and Sorbet rebelled and failed. They served as the catalyst for the entirety of the La Squadra to betray Passione and overthrow the boss, but waited for a perfect opportunity to do so. ~ The death of the couple Gelato and Sorbet left a hole in your hearts. You found yourself hanging around the couple whenever you felt like it, and intimidating as they look they welcome you with warm arms. ~ And among those days as a thirteen year old, you found yourself sitting at the edge of Risotto's bed, putting a hand over his shoulder to calm him down. Out of the entirety of the La Squadra, he was person severely affected with grief at the death of his teammates, seated at the edge of his bed and cupping his face and choking at his denied sobs. ~ Two years after, it was then the perfect time to strike and wipe out the boss. At the form of his daughter, they strategize to kidnap her, extract information of his identity from her, and strike on the boss. You were reluctant for them to act out this risky mission after seeing what happened to two remarkable assassins of La Squadra who paid the price of punishment without the boss even speaking. And they didn't even plan to involve you in this operation, not even if your Stand is powerful. ~ One by one, they fall apart and it was you're sole mission was to recover their maimed remains and nurse them back to health, travelling to myriad parts of Italy with a van you stole enough to fit the entirety of the La Squadra and with medical equipments. They were barely breathing, but you got to work with what you have, robbing hospitals of equipments and shoplifting from shops for food. Staying up late at night to tend to them, making sure their heartbeats remain steady at the duration of the night. Some of them, their states were worst than the other, you found yourself focused on Illuso and Pesci, as their bodies were the most mangled among others. ~ They all survived thankfully, all mortally injured but survived. Around those times you stayed up late at night tending to their needs, working with your Stand to make sure they live normally again. Tears were shed, hugs were exchanged, numerous 'ow's!' and 'ouch!' were exclaimed. ~ You caught wind of the boss being defeated and honestly, you couldn't care less about it. All you want was that your family survived and functional again. And with that need, you wait for the new boss to find out about the people who attempted to hinder them at their trip, and find you. And by this time, you were ready to bargain your life for them. But instead of being greeted by death, somehow, the new boss opted torecognise the group's strengths and skills as assassins, and offered you guys a chance to prove yourselves worthy to be recruited back in Passione and not be killed. He comissioned your group with important missions to assassinate other branches of Passione dealing criminal services to children, and paid you handsomely in advance and promised more if you were back in Passione. ~ The squadron were

confused, but chose to take the job and easily wiped out those type of people from Passione. Since all of them were in a better state, a little rusty so they took you on the job and for once in your life as one of the La Squadra family, you were made official and made into an assassin along with them. ~ The squad was successful, and earn their selves back in Passione. Although the interaction with the Bucci gang was awkward, you were all professional and civil and seemingly buried the hatchet. ~ Soon after they were able to get back on track in just a span of a year, they offered you to get back to school and lead a somewhat normal life. You accept and enrolled to a private boarding school and unbeknownst to you, so did a certain pink haired sixteen year old. ~ It was in the middle of a school year, too, you've been getting weird looks from classmates. Honestly, you didn't think high school would be this severe and kinda regretted returning to school when you're already content with being homeschooled with the help of Melone and Ghiaccio. I mean, you're an assassin for god's sake but you can't just kill people because they whispered rumours and insults behind your back for being... You honestly didn't know why they treat you like this. ~ Days later, a certain Trish Una also enrolled back to school in an attempt to restore some point of normalcy in her life. Like you, she found herself as a target for whispers at how she looked so snobby and bratty despite being so quiet. ~ I'mma write a whole ass one-shot of you meeting Trish because I can't pass up to simp over her tbh. ~ You found yourself befriending her, oblivious at the fact she is affiliated with Passione, and was the daughter of the old boss, and the girl your family had been trying to kidnap for the sake of overthrowing the old boss. Like her, she was oblivious at your affiliation with the assassin branch of Passione as well. ~ You stuck together at school, just traumatised kids being pals and trying to live a normal life, bonding over anything really, having one teach the other complicated mathematics, until you two started to hang out outside of school where at weekends after school, you two would go out in the nearest mall to shop and perhaps eat in a cafe. ~ The whole La Squadra were refreshed at how you always smile all the time and stare off into space, they were confused at your sudden concern over your appearance and choice of apparel, you started to go out more, etc. They were confused (but never spoke of it out loud around you) at the change, but supported you nonetheless because it was normal to do as a teenager so they let you be. ~ One day, Trish decided to ask you for a study date at the café you frequented at in a Saturday morning and for some reason, you just had the urge to look your best despite just studying. Indecisiveness room over you, prompting you to seek advice from the most fashionable member of the group, Prosciutto. ~ He gave you the advice you need, and so you thanked him to turn away, leave and try the outfits he chose, when Formaggio suddenly spoke beside him: "Ohhh~ Y/N's going in a date~" Formaggio teased, lips pouting playfully and voice in a painfully high, poor attempt to imitate a school girl voice. "What? Does wittle Y/N has a cwush?" You stopped in your tracks at that, glancing at the cheese man with furrowed brows in confusion, but cheeks scorched with the sudden flow of adrenaline from the situation he's put you in. Without hearing a context of anything as he happened to just be walking by he stops, and Melone chimes in as he looked up from his monitor, "A date? With whom?" "You're going on a date?" Prosciutto raised a brow, perhaps preparing a nice, long lecture for you to endure for like an hour. "Is that why you're dressing up nicely?" "I— no!" A rush of overwhelming feeling of confusion, denial and something more mixed in your systems and became more incoherent and incoherent as you try and process things further. "I'm just going out on a study with a friend of mine. I'm not going out on a

date. What? I'm not allowed to get dolled up and look pretty while reviewing?" You try to jest to get yourself out of the situation. ~ After that's over with, Prosciutto let you go with the suspicion of you seeing someone in secret but you deny that wholeheartedly. Jesus now that they mentioned you were out going out on a date with someone, your chest grew tight with something you can't fathom, but more on confusion. "We're just friends hanging out to review, nothing else. Isn't it normal to want to dress up for a friend and look decent... Right?" You attempt to reassure yourself in your way there. ~ You arrive at the café where Trish sat, and just gawked at how effortlessly beautiful she is. She just looks so divine and elegant and beautiful and cute and adorable no matter what she does. She invites you over the table to study and all you could of was the fact it was only you two in the cafe apart from the employee but you are with her, alone... Like a date. Well it is a study date after all, meaning it's for friends. Right? ~ At the duration of the date— study date that is, you were concentrated on  simplifying a lot of lessons for Trish to understand better, but upon that concentration you found yourself fixed on her. The way she bit her lips glossed with pink strawberry lip gloss whenever some questions were difficult for her to solve, the way her emerald gaze would dart up to you after answering for reassurance that she did a great job, the way she'd smile in triumph upon getting questions correct... ~ After that day, you proceeded to question yourself what Formaggio asked earlier, "Does wittle Y/N have a cwush?" And within that newfound realisation, yes you do. But you refuse to feel more of it... Not when she's around of course. ~ Days later, by accident, the secret was let out of the bag. Illuso caught glimpse of a poem you were writing beside him as you lounged around in a Saturday and scanned through it, looking for something he can tease you for it, and successfully spotted a misspelling. As he was about to correct it for you, he then realised you were writing, and addressing a poem towards the girl they were intending to kidnap a year ago. ~ The jerk Illuso is, snatched your notebook away from you, transferred himself in the mirror realm, and began to read it out loud for the others to hear. At first the others just thought of it as normal, it's a day to day occurrences among all you after when they slowly became intrigued to what you've written and listened to Illuso, as you did all your might to get it back. That's when they all heard your fancy towards Trish. ~ Now that connects the dots to why you always smile and stare off into space, dress nicely, and among other stuff you do whilst in love or ahem— as you claimed, 'having a crush' ~ Formaggio began to tease along with Illuso, whilst you only hid your scorching face behind your hands, holding the urge to murder Illuso for that. He knew what's up the moment you've been in a sickly sweet mood, along with your lovesick smile but needed further proof to tease you for it. ~ Prosciutto is rather nonchalant at the news, I mean, it's not new for teens to experience these things. As long as it doesn't really spiral to obsession he's going to let you be. ~ Pesci would be happy for you but under these circumstances of the revelation, he feels your pain and tries his best to comfort you because omg, he can't get through people teasing him, let alone see his loved ones being teased. ~ Melone is simply amused and quite frankly, not surprised. He predicted this will happen sooner or later, as he silently held out his hand in front of the fuming Ghiaccio, waiting for the bet money he has won over. ~ Ghiaccio was fuming not specifically towards you, but at how the revelation has come too light a few days early for him to win this silly little wager he had with Melone. Now, he's like twenty dollars poorer. Like Prosciutto, he's nonchalant and chill about it. ~ Risotto is particularly happy for you because for once, you were happy and somewhat

having a normalcy he has craved for you to have ever since he had kept you in La Squadra as a family member instead of an assassin. On the surface he's unfazed, but inside he is supportive and thankful you were happy. ~ Overall, they're all just supportive of you.

[dakotafoster]

ᴅʀᴜɴᴋ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ

ραιяιиg : katsuki bakugou x g/n reader

ɢɛռʀɛ: fluff ♡ crack humor

աօʀɖ ƈօʊռȶ : 2.1k

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: a bit steamy

𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪 : When your boyfriend comes home intoxicated, he shows you a side of him that is reserved for only you. ✰

This will be my first one-shot on this blog, so please any constructive criticism will be really helpful! Hope you all enjoy. ッ

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

It was a chilly starry night. Japan from the balcony window had never looked so serene until now. The bright stars that dotted the dark velvet sky, giving the gloomy canvas a little bit of life--of light. It was somber yet luminous, they drew the lights of heaven and gave the citizens of below a meager taste of something so divine and sublime, a measly fragment of the beauty we long to see in ourselves and the world around it. It was magnificent.

A heavy knock interrupted your attention on the black before you, muffled whispers and giggles could be heard from the opposite side of the chestnut door. As you lifted yourself from the glass railing you took a brief gander at the clock sitting on the desk beside your TV. It read 2:43 a.m.

Wrapping a small nearby cardigan around your frame and rubbed your eyes of sleep before making a beeline toward the door, the muffled voices becoming clearer as your got closer.

“Dammit Bakugou, quit messing around and give me your keys!”

“Gotta find it in my ass first shitty hair!”

Swinging the door open your (e/c) optics landed upon a frustrated Kirishima who was wrestling a very drunk Bakugou for a silvery white ring of keys right outside your flat doorstep. Bakugou seemed to be having an absolute blast, giggling like a little school girl as he evaded Kirishima’s attempts to swipe the item from his grip, and Kiri was having none of it. They both seemed rather oblivious to your presence and persisted to look like complete idiots in the halls of the complex.

“Both of you stop it before you wake up the neighbors!”

Your harsh tone is what finally received their attention, gazing timidly at you with wide eyes frozen. In one last attempt to get a rise out of Kirishima, Bakugou swiped his palm brutally on the back of his friends head, his head flung forward rough smack and a grunt, mumbling something about Katsuki being a dick. You heaved out a sigh at the sight of your boyfriend, his face sheen with a thick layer of sweat and a radiant red flush adorned his cheeks and across his nose. His eyes still the blazing crimson you had come to adore so much puffy and irritated.

“Sorry ‘bout this (y/n)... I didn’t mean to wake ya but Bakugou has had too much to be alone right now, and I still have to take care of Kaminari so...”

Kirishima timidly began to caress the back of his spiky locks, giving you a sheepish grin and gave a quick glance at the blonde next to him who was struggling to keep himself from tumbling forward. Too exhausted to even argue, you simply waved Kirishima off and moved to grab hold of your intoxicated boyfriend. The strong aroma of what was seemingly Fireball mixed with rum made your nostrils flare in distaste, far from his usual caramel scent.

“It’s fine Kiri. Just get home safe ‘kay?”

“Yeah, have a goodnight (y/n)”

You slammed the door behind with a swing of your foot, you then proceeded to lead Katsuki into your bedroom with an arm wrapped around his bulky torso to keep him straight. He stumbled over his feet a couple times along the way there, leaning on you for support so he didn’t face plant or dive to the floorboards in any way. He was mumbling incoherently to himself, slumping against your shoulder which led to his breath brushing up against the side of your face and into your ear, the hot sensation produced a shiver down your spine. Katsuki interpreted this rather well, because he immediately attached himself to your neck and pressed soft, open-mouthed kissed to your soft spot. He knew exactly how to drive you crazy even if he couldn’t even fucking walk straight.

“I need you babygirl.”

“Not tonight ‘Suki, maybe tomorrow.”

Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of his searing hot lips against your pulse, his wet tongue slipping out everyone and then teasingly. You hummed softly and weakly cupped his scalding cheek to pull him from your nape, cursing whatever deity that made him so goddamn tempting.

“C’mon lets get you ready for bed hun.”

“Mmm... Babe...”

He groaned lowly as you sat him down at the foot of your bed, his large frame slouching over his knees. Crouching down you gripped his ankle and raised his seemingly massive leg into your lap, silently untying his shoes whilst feeling his vivid gaze burning holes into your skull. Placing his shoes to the side you began to fumble with his belt to get rid of his ebony jeans. Amid doing so, Katsuki had graced with a lazy smirk and casually reached his generous hands to your head, running his fingers through your (h/c) strands.

“Hell yeah, this is what I like to see baby.”

Fuck. The way the words fell from those lips made you utterly weak. Your face felt like it was on fire with how carnal his gaze was, you were sure you looked like a fish out of water with the shock and overwhelming arousment you were feeling. Nevertheless, it was short lived when Bakugou dropped onto the bed and burst into a fit of laughter and giggles just by your reaction. You couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle with a twitch of your brow, you gave a quick smack to his thigh and tiredly tugged at his jeans once he had calmed down. His endless taunting was never so apparent until now and frankly, it was debilitating and instigating all at once.

“Stay here. Please don’t try and get up, I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“Yeah.. Sure.”

He released a small giggle and his head rolled to his left shoulder, laying tired on his back upon your white duvet. You rose from your spot on the floor and exited the bedroom to get him a glass of water and some ibuprofen to somewhat relieve his hang over. You didnt think you’d return to find a very naked and very erect Katsuki laying splayed out across the bed, the remainder of his clothes discarded on the side of the bed and his arms crossed behind the back of his head, his sculpted six-pack presented to you in such a way it made you drool like a fucking dog.. And the same arrogant smirk he’d been adorning for entirety of his stay among your apartment, the same enticing glimmer in his optics.

“Oh my god Katsu! What the fuck?!”

You shrieked, averting your eyes to your feet and stumbled around to find his boxers or at least something to conceal his manhood. Bakugou cackled our in delight before he was met with his boxers on his face, picking up on a faint grumble and your feet stomping toward the nightstand next to him.

“Put on your damn boxers Bakugou! I’m too fuckin tired for this shit..” You hissed at your dopey, idiotic boyfriend as he just began to fumble with the garment and mishandle them up each leg, snickering throughout the whole process. “Okay okay... No need to yell. So much for trying to serve it to you like a Hot ‘n Ready Hotpocket.”

You’ve never laughed so hard in your damn laugh at that. He grinned at your shaking form, watching intently as you struggled to breath through each laugh and chuckle, snorts coming out every few seconds. God, you hated him and loved him simultaneously for doing this to you. You wanted to give in to his desire because Jesus the sex was with him was down right unbelievable. Man, did this hunk of a man know how to pleasure a woman and fuck was he exceptional at doing so. Although, at the same time you were tempted to knock his ass into sleep. Either way you couldn’t officially decide. After several moments you composed yourself, taking deep breaths as you made your way into your restroom. You managed to stifle a few chortles in the process of grabbing a rag and moistened it with lukewarm water from your sink, then returned thankful you hadn’t walked in on another naked Bakugou. Making your way around the king sized mattress you were pleased to find he had already taken the ibuprofen and the water both absent.

“Let me clean your face baby. It’s all sweaty and sticky.”

You mumbled out drowsily, sitting down beside Katsuki and tilting his chin up to face you and nimbly wipe his face clean. You looked up at him to make sure we wasn’t falling asleep and you froze, your heart erupted at the sight you were provided with. Katsuki’s face was free of his usual scowl, instead his eyebrows were relaxed, tilted upward and his lips in a small, soft smile. Those dazzling vermilion eyes staring into you, glistening with so much adoration and passion for you. You choked, mesmerized with how calm and serene he looked. The next words to tumble from his lips could’ve sent you melting onto the floor like wax.

“I am really really... Really in love with you (y/n).”

You believed every single word. You never even questioned it for a second in that moment. Really because you had no reason to discredit his love for you, he was a genuine man with a sharp and palpable tongue 24/7. You both were aware of that, and you didn’t complain. It was nice to have him so honest with you, and yes sometimes he wasn’t always nice with the way he expressed such honesty you had grown accustomed to it. Which is why you had been so shocked to see the brash and usually loud brute suddenly become so hushed and tender.

“I mean it princess. I love you so fuckin’ much. I know I don’t really show you how much I do like normal shitty couples, and i’m really fucking sorry for that but I love you with everything I got babe.. I know how much I can be a pain in the ass sometimes.. But.. I promise I’ll never stop lovin’ you, and I’ll show you every damn day just to fucking prove it. M’kay? Your fucking stuck with me until you’re too damn old to even try and fight me on it. I’m so happy I met you and I’m terrified at the same, ‘cause fuck babe I never knew I wanted love until now, until you. I never saw the fuckin’ point. So please jus.. Fuckin’ stay and be in love with me too.”

He refused to give you a chance to reply before he gingerly took your face into his hands and brought his lips to yours. The world fell away as you felt his soft, chapped lips against your own. The kiss with just as delicate as his words and touch, moving smoothly and overwhelming emotion. You immediately raised your hands to weave together behind his neck, pulling him in gently to deepen the kiss. In response to this, Katsuki rolled his tongue across your bottom lip in a silent request for an entrance. You whimpered, opening your mouth as his tongue began to explore your wet cavern, faintly tasting the alcoholic beverages from just hours before. His thumbs swiping tenderly across your cheekbones and your fingertips tangled themselves around his strong neck.

It wasn’t rushed or rough in any way, not like the many nights were he would intend on fucking you senseless, this is when he would truly let himself be vulnerable. Moments like these when he was so damn soft and loving toward you, and only you.

The kiss lasted for what felt like only a minute when in reality lasted 15 minutes. He left you seeking for more. Heaving for breath at the mere intensity of the make-out, resting his forehead against yours, noses brushing against each other gently. You both stayed like that for a moment, just basking in each other’s loving glow with stupid grins across your lips. You took your time taking in this hidden side of your boyfriend, loving each second of it while you still could before he would return to his sullen self. You reveled in every moment you lost yourself in his soft caress, were it was nobody but the two of you acting almost as one. In which you could feel close to him away from intercourse and instead with sensual kisses and grazes. Nonetheless, he was certainly the half that made you whole.

“I’m in love with you too Katsu’.”

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

Thank you so much for reading! Request are open, and feel free to leave feedback or ask any questions! ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔ

- 𝖑𝖎𝖟 ☾ ✩

𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 : (𝟔/𝟐𝟏/𝟐𝟎 - 𝟏:𝟓𝟓 𝐚.𝐦.)

[dlwritings]

Confused Love | Dean Winchester

masterlist found here

pairing - Dean x reader word count - 3,689 warnings - reader has panic attack, Dean’s kind of a dick which fuels some angst A/N - for @originalposter-96​ who requested! | title inspired by this post

summary - You and Dean aren’t always on good terms, but when you’re both alone at the bunker, things go from bad to worse. Then again, it’s always darkest before the dawn.

You and Dean had a love hate relationship. Most of the time, it leaned towards hate, but there was love sprinkled in. At least from your end. Because the truth was, you were crazy about the eldest Winchester.

You felt like a stupid girl in high school, pushing away your feelings with crude and brash attempts at humor. In turn, Dean treated you the same. So, realistically, the way he treated you was your fault. He had likely always seen your attitude as hatred, so he returned it with the same force. What he didn’t know was that insulting the boy you had a crush on was how you had been coping with feelings since elementary school. It wasn’t your way of playing hard to get. It was your way of pushing away the other person before they could push you away first.

It may not’ve been the healthiest coping mechanism, but it worked.

There was only one person who knew of your true feelings for Dean, and that was Jack.

It was easy to talk to Jack, because he didn’t judge. It was like the boy was incapable of doing so. All he did was listen to you with his innocent eyes, only occasionally responding with questions or comments. He did his best not to interrupt, but there were still emotions that he didn’t quite understand. “But if you feel this way about Dean,” he once asked you, “why do you fight so much?”

You sighed. “It’s complicated.” When Jack didn’t say anything -only tilted his head in confusion- you sighed again. “It’s really hard to let people in sometimes.”

“You let me in,” he said.

“Well yeah,” you said, smiling softly at him, “but you’re different.”

“You mean because you don’t love me,” he said.

“Course I love you,” you said with a laugh of disbelief, reaching out and putting your hand on his cheek.

“But not like you love Dean,” he deducted. You just hung your head and dropped your hand. You avoided his question.

“It’s hard to tell people how you feel when there’s no guarantee they’ll feel the same,” you continued. “So I just, I push people away. Sometimes I think bad emotions are easier to handle than good ones. It’s easier to pretend to hate him than it is to love him.” You laughed dryly and shook your head. “I think there was a part of me that thought if I pretended to hate him long enough, I would start to really hate him.”

“But that didn’t work?” Jack asked.

“No,” you said. “Not even a little bit.”

Jack did not understand, and you could read it on his face. “Humans are weird,” you reminded him.

“Sure,” Jack said with a slow nod, “but this seems weird, even for humans.”

Well, he had you there.

A few weeks later, you found yourself alone at the bunker. Jack and Cas were out on one case, and Sam and Dean were on another. Usually they took you along, but you had just gotten back from helping Claire take down a werewolf pack, so you were especially tired. The boys all decided to give you a break.

It was about 9:00 at night when you made your way to the kitchen. You were dying for some ice cream, and you knew you had a half full pint of Ben and Jerry’s waiting for you in the freezer. When you were just a few steps away from the kitchen door, you heard a noise coming from that direction. Instinctively, you grabbed your gun from the waistband of your leggings and held it at the ready in front of you. Sometimes, you hated how paranoid you constantly had to be in your own home. Other times -like now- you were glad you carried a gun all the time. You stood outside the door, took a deep breath, then turned and pointed your gun at whoever was inside.

“Whoa, easy there, Bonnie.”

You let out an annoyed sigh and dropped your gun, shoving it in the back of your pants again. “What the hell are you doing here?” you asked Dean.

He shrugged. “Drinking a beer.”

“Funny,” you said sarcastically. He was sitting at the table, but you were completely unaware of this gaze burning holes into your back as you searched through the freezer for your ice cream. “How long have you been home?” you asked him, turning to get a spoon out of one of the drawers.

“I got back about an hour ago,” he said.

“And Sam?” you asked.

“Met up with Cas and Jack,” he said. “They needed a hand.”

“And you didn’t-”

“Well aren’t you just full of questions tonight,” he quipped, giving you his most sarcastic smile.

“Fuck off,” you bit back, shoving your spoon into your ice cream. “I was just wondering why-”

“Jesus, do you ever stop talking?” he asked. “I swear, if I listen to your voice for more than five minutes at a time, I get a headache. I heard you on the fucking phone earlier and your voice just pierced my-”

You cut Dean off by slamming your spoon against the counter. He looked at you with surprise and kept watching your movements as you put the lid back on your ice cream and put it back in the freezer.

“Oh, have I hurt your feelings?” he asked. “Have I finally struck the wrong-”

“I’m done,” you said, holding your hands up. You could feel tears welling up in your eyes, and a lump was growing in your throat. “I’m done, Dean. Okay? You win.”

“What are you-”

“I’m exhausted,” you said, laughing just so you wouldn’t cry. “I’m tired of this, this game of who can hurt who the most. So congratulations. You win. I surrender.”

Before Dean could say anything back, you left the room, and you didn’t stop there. You only paused in your room to grab a jacket before heading all the way out of the bunker. You needed fresh air. To clear your head. To think about how you felt about Dean and all the conversations you had had with Jack and everything you had been pushing down for so long.

Dean stared at the door where you had left, his beer bottle inches away from his mouth. What the hell was that?

Guilt crept into his stomach. This wasn’t how your relationship with each other worked. He gave you shit, you gave it right back. Had he pushed the wrong button? This wasn’t anything he hadn’t teased you for before. And that’s all it was. Teasing. He didn’t actually mean it. Didn’t you know that? Wasn’t that what your relationship was based off of? Mutual hatred? Or at least, fake hatred? Because he certainly didn’t hate you, and he thought that was pretty clear. Granted, he was pretty sure you hated him, but it was more like a loving hatred. Didn’t it lean more towards love most of the time?

He figured you just needed time to cool off. Maybe something had happened during the day before he got there that set you off. Regardless, he knew asking you about it would just make it worse. You guys didn’t exactly talk about your feelings. That’s what you used Jack for. He knew you would never need him as long as you had Jack to talk with.

His fist clenched around his beer bottle as he took another sip.

You were gone for an hour. You were completely lost in your thoughts, and you ended up so deep into the woods that your surroundings were unrecognizable. You froze, looking at the trees and darkness around you.

Panic settled quickly in your chest, and your body started to shake. It started with your hands, then your arms, then your legs, until your whole body gave out. You collapsed to the ground and covered your mouth with your hand, trying not to sob too loudly. There were monsters in the night, and the last thing you wanted was for one of them to find you when you were so ill prepared for a fight. You crawled across the ground to the nearest tree and leaned your back up against it.

How stupid had you been? First and foremost, you were afraid of the dark. Sure, that wasn’t great for a hunter, but you could handle it when you were with someone. But here, you were alone. Alone and lost and scared. God, you hated being scared.

The second big issue was you were already stressed. You were stressed because you had all these feelings for Dean that you were only just starting to come to terms with -thanks to your endless talks with Jack- but what just happened proved your biggest fear. Proved that he couldn’t stand you. God, even the sound of your voice annoyed him? You were right: it was a lot easier to push people away than it was to take a chance and get close to them.

And when you were stressed, you were anxious. When you were anxious, you panicked.

“No, no, no,” you cried to yourself. “Not now. Not right now. Not now, not now, not now.”

Your throat started to tighten up, and your eyes squeezed shut. Usually, you’d get Sam or Cas. Jack was sweet, but when you were panicking, you needed someone to hold you and talk you down. Jack only seemed to take on your stress.

The problem was, Sam and Cas weren’t there. They were nowhere near there. Wherever there was. Because you were lost. Alone. In the woods. In the dark. Scared.

Luckily, you could still breathe, and if you could breathe, you might be able to talk. If you could talk-

You grabbed your phone from your bra and unlocked it, just barely able to make out your contacts through your teary eyes. You pressed Dean’s contact number and put your forehead on your knees. “Pick up, pick up,” you whispered, fighting back the sobs itching up your throat.

“Hey.”

As soon as you heard Dean’s voice, a broken sob passed your lips.

Dean put down his beer bottle and stood up from his seat. “Hey, hey, take a breath,” he said. “Where are you?”

“I’m lost,” you admitted. “I don’t know where I am. I’m in the middle of the woods, and, and it’s dark, and I’m scared and, and I can’t, I can’t-” Your breaths were short and labored, and you could feel yourself starting to black out. You put your head between your knees as more tears fell from your eyes. You started sobbing, and you wished with everything in you that you hadn’t gotten yourself into this situation in the first place.

“(Y/N)-” Dean’s voice was level, but not harsh. He knew how you got during your panics, and he also knew he was the last person you’d want to call. He was your last result, but dammit if that was going to stop him from helping. “I’m gonna track your phone, okay? You stay right where you are. I’ll be there before you know it. I just need you to keep breathing. Nice and slow.”

As Dean rushed around the bunker to grab his keys and jacket, he put the phone on speaker so he could still talk to you while he tracked your phone. “Dean,” you breathed desperately.

“I’m right here,” he said. “I see where you are. I’ll be with you in fifteen minutes. Ten if I run. I can run. You want me to run?” You made a noise that sounded kind of like a laugh, and Dean managed a weak smile. “Hey, let’s play a game. You want to play a game?” You didn’t say anything, but Dean continued anyway. “I need you to tell me five things you can see right now.”

It was an exercise Sam had taught him back when he was dealing with the Mark of Cain stuff. Sometimes he’d wake up from nightmares completely disoriented, and Sam would walk him through this dumbass routine. And as stupid as Dean thought it was, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t always calm him down.

“It’s, it’s dark,” you whispered through your shaky breaths.

“You can do it,” Dean said. “Just five things, sweetheart.”

“I, uh, there’s a tree,” you said. “Lots of trees. And there’s a stick next to me, and a yellow leaf. Uh, I, there’s an ant on my shoe. And my shoe. Is that-” You took as deep of a breath as you could, but it was still too shallow for your liking. “Is that five?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean said. “You did so good. How about four things you can touch.”

“The, the dirt,” you said, “and the tree I’m sitting by. There’s some crunchy leaves next to me. And-” You tried to think of something else, but your mind was coming up blank. “I don’t know, Dean. I don’t-”

Dean could tell your breaths were picking up again, and he pressed his feet harder against the ground as he ran in the direction his phone was telling him. “What about your phone?” he offered. “You can touch your phone, right?”

“Yeah,” you said, squeezing your phone harder in your fist. “Yeah. My phone.”

“Good job,” Dean said. “I’m almost there, (Y/N). Give me three things you can hear.”

You closed your eyes and listened to everything around you. “The wind,” you whispered. “The wind in the trees.”

“Mhm,” Dean hummed.

“And, and-” You hesitated. “I hear crickets.”

“Mm,” he hummed again. “What else?”

You felt yourself smile. “Your voice. I can hear your voice.”

Dean chuckled. “That’s right.”

You looked up from your phone when you heard a twig snap, and just as you reached for your gun, you saw it was Dean. You hung up your phone, and Dean rushed over to you. He knelt beside you, and you immediately threw your arms around him. “Shh, shh,” he whispered, running his hands through your hair and holding you to his chest. He could still feel you shaking. “Hey, we gotta finish our game, okay?” You nodded against his chest. “Two things you can smell. Think really hard, okay? Just focus on that. Two things you can smell.” You did, closing your eyes again and breathing in through your nose.

“The dirt,” you whispered. You took another deep breath, and your grip on his flannel tightened. “You. Your cologne. ‘S my favorite.”

What Dean wanted to say was, You have a favorite? Instead, he squeezed you a little tighter and said, “One thing you can taste.”

You managed a laugh. “My tears are salty.” Dean chuckled as well and kept running his hands from the crown of your head down to the ends of your hair.

“Good job,” he whispered. “You did so good, (Y/N). Just keep breathing now. I’m right here.”

Once Dean could tell your breathing was back to normal, he suggested you head back to the bunker. You were still a little shaky, but you nodded and stood close to him as you walked through the woods. Normally, as long as you weren’t alone, the dark didn’t bother you, but you were still too on edge from the panic to feel totally comfortable. Dean noticed you gasp and freeze when a twig snapped in the distance, so he stopped and turned to face you. He reached out his hand for you to take. “Why’re you being so nice to me?” you asked. Still, you took his hand, and the two of you kept walking.

Dean shrugged. “Because you’re upset, and you need me.”

You sighed with a shake of your head. “You don’t even like me, Dean.”

You were at the bunker door now, and Dean dropped your hand. You walked into the building, and for a moment, you thought your comment had been forgotten. When you got to the war room, Dean dropped his keys on the table and looked at you. “Is that really what you think?” he said.

“What?” you asked, sniffing a bit.

“You think I don’t like you?” he asked.

You scoffed. “Dean, all you do is, is argue with me and ridicule me and-”

“What, and you don’t do the same?” he said, his voice raising a bit. He didn’t want to set you off, but he was stunned at your words, and he wanted to defend himself. “From the moment we met, you have done nothing but, but snap at me and pick fights. You never even gave me a chance to be anything other than this, this villain you already created in your mind.”

“It’s not like that,” you said weakly with a shake of your head. “I don’t, I don’t see you as a villain.”

“Then what?” he said. “Because I only dish out what you give me! I’ve never hated you, but you made it damn near impossible from day one to kill you with kindness. And-”

“Dammit, Dean, I love you!”

Dean’s jaw dropped a bit at your words. He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “What?”

Well, there was no going back now.

“I love you,” you repeated. “But I’m, I am not good at loving people. I’m so-” You sighed heavily and ran your hands through your hair. “I’m so afraid of losing people and of people not, not wanting me, and it’s so much easier to, to make you hate me than wait for you to love me when you won’t.”

Dean was quiet, but you didn’t really give him a chance to get a word in anyway.

“But Dean, I cannot keep doing this,” you said. “I can’t keep giving you shit and fighting with you when I don’t mean it, and I can’t keep listening to you say all these things about me, even though I know it’s my fault you’re even-”

Dean closed the space between the two of you with one step, put his hands on your cheeks, and kissed you.

The kiss was short but strong, and when he pulled away, you took in a sharp breath. Both of your chests were heaving, and all you could think to say was, “You kissed me.”

“Well you kept talking,” he said with a small smile. “I couldn’t get a word in.” You bit your lip and hung your head, but Dean lifted your chin. “I’ve been in love with you for-” He scoffed and shook his head. “I don’t even know how long, (Y/N). I was just so sure you couldn’t stand me, so I kept up our, I don’t know. Our act. And everyday it hurt more and more, but I kept thinking the same thing you did. I figured nothing good would come of me telling you how I felt.” He put his hand on your cheek and brushed a tear away. “I guess neither of us are very good at loving people.”

You scoffed. “I guess not.”

“But dammit, (Y/N),” he said with another shake of his head, “I’ll try for you. I’ll get better at loving people if that person I get to love is you.”

You nodded. “So will I.”

Dean smiled. “But I hope I still get to make fun of you sometimes.”

“Yeah?” you quipped.

“Mhm,” he hummed. “Like right now? All I can think about is how you’re a hunter who’s afraid of the dark.” You bit back a smile and punched his arm, but Dean just laughed and pulled you in for a hug as he kissed the top of your head.

-

A few hours later, Sam, Cas, and Jack came home to a quiet bunker. It was only a little bit before 1AM, and it was a little odd for Dean to be asleep at that hour. You, maybe, but Dean? That guy could drink and watch porn until at least four. “Guys?” Sam called. “(Y/N)? Dean?” Sam looked at Cas who just shrugged. Meanwhile, Jack walked down the hall in the direction of your room.

“(Y/N)?” he said, loudly enough for you to hear on the other side if you were awake, but quiet enough that it wouldn’t wake you up if you were asleep. When you didn’t answer, Jack slowly opened the door, hoping it wouldn’t creek with the movement. What he saw on the other side made him furrow his eyebrows. Cas and Sam rounded the corner and saw Jack standing there with a look of confusion on his face. They looked at each other again before joining him in front of your door.

Sam and Cas both smiled upon seeing you and Dean cuddled up in each other's arms, fast asleep. You were both fully dressed, even lying above the covers, and your TV was playing softly in the background. “I don’t understand,” Jack said softly, doing his best not to wake you or Dean. “(Y/N) said Dean hates her.”

“Yeah,” Sam scoffed, “he definitely doesn’t.”

“So, has he been courting her this whole time?” Jack asked, using some lingo he picked up on once before.

Cas chuckled. “I suppose he did Dean’s version of courting.”

“But they skipped the dating,” Jack said slowly, “which is what you do before sex.”

“Well, it looks like they skipped that part too, bud,” Sam said with a laugh, clapping Jack on the shoulder. Sam closed your bedroom door, smiling once more at his brother and best friend finally looking peaceful together.

“Dean says there’s no part after the sex part,” Jack said. Cas rolled his eyes and Sam laughed again.

“Of course he said that,” Sam said.

“Is that not true?” Jack asked.

“Jack,” Cas said, putting his arm around Jack’s shoulders and leading him away from your bedroom, “it took me a long time to learn this, so I’ll save you some trouble. Sometimes you just need to ignore what Dean says, because most of the time, he doesn’t even realize he’s wrong until he’s proved otherwise.”

“Yeah,” Sam chuckled. “And I think he’s finally been proved otherwise.”

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

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[wheelersdealer]

RABBIT HOLE

Summary: You hate Steve, Steve hates you, you may have fooled around once or twice but whatever -- he’s found himself oddly protective when he sees some prick picking on you and you’re not sure how you feel about sympathetic! King Steve.

Pairing: King!Steve x Queen!Reader Warnings: Profanity, Small Sexual Themes, Harassment A/n: This is a continuation of my “Her Majesty” story you can find on my blog! Also, new fic format so I can give gif creators direct credit! Just click the picture and you’ll be sent there! Also, all gifs I use are reblogged prior to posting an imagine.

Steve Harrington has fallen down a rabbit hole. Of both physical and figurative means but this fic is PG-13, so —

The subtle touches you share and the gentle, but seductive glares you shoot his way in class and in the hall…it’s all built up to be something greater. No, it isn’t love, it's certainly not love because how can a King love the Queen attempting to raid his castle, and he doesn’t want to date you but…it’s hard to explain.

Here! Just now —

His eyes are drawn away from practice. He works with Tommy and some other boys in shooting hoops, mostly numb from their bickering and his spot-on shooting despite the crick in his wrist (totally not related to you).

Hey, at least he lands.

But then his eyes land on you, standing in the alley between Hawkins High’s two buildings. It’s the perfect view, the sun hitting your face just right. Just well enough to capture your furrowed brows and a glare so strong he can realize now that the ones you give him are nowhere near malicious.

And then he sees a guy.

And then Steve gets hit the head.

He hisses and groans as the ball collides with his skull, but still, he’s focused on you and this guy. He’s not just a regular teenage boy no he’s-he’s a guy. Like, a man, a dude.

“Harrington!” Tommy scoffs, picking up the ball and holding it between his ribs and arm.

Steve rolls his eyes at them, but still feels inclined to stay and play or at least try to explain. He decides not to, instead, his focus still on you as he rubs his temples to ease the thumping in his brain and tries to steady his legs as they’ve become a bit numb from standing motionless for so long.

“Where the hell are you going?” Tommy scoffs. The guys around them aren’t exactly in their group and Tommy has felt a need to prove himself to them the entire game through ‘trash talk,’ ‘smack talk,’ (yes, different things according to Tommy), and showing them just how confident he is to bully none other than ‘King Steve Harrington’ on the court.

“Can it Tommy, will you?” Steve spits back at him.

He limps off toward you and in the corner of your eye, he’s nothing but a grey speck that invades your sight.

You’re stiff with your arms crossed over your stomach. Clearly, it’s meant more to hug yourself than to be all calm and casual, with Steve able to see from this far away just how tight you’re holding your own arms.

Your shoulders are up, your chin is closer to your chest, and you have your feet pointing away from this situation…

So you can…run, perhaps?

“HEY!” Steve shouts the moment he worries why you would worry about having too. He claps his hands and that’s what draws you to him. His voice is a bit too hoarse and husky from basketball to recognize immediately.

You roll your eyes allow him a chance to speak. You take a few steps back from this guy, and Steve clearly sees that you consider him as an opening.

His heart flutters at the honor. Just a little bit.

Steve plants himself in front of this guy and spits, “Can I help you?” He picked up that tone of voice from his ‘Take me to your manager!’ mama.

You peak over Steve’s shoulder and watch the guy babble. You’ve allowed yourself to be more open about your vulnerability, hugging yourself directly and keeping your head down but you still manage to scold the guy with sharp eyes behind your brows.

Steve can see that he definitely looks familiar…But then again there’s a lot of quaffed and blonde-haired douchebags that have roamed not only the halls of Hawkins High but the halls of every high school in America, really.

He looks like he’s in college but he still wears his Hawkins varsity jacket.

Steve gets caught in his eyes, squinting and trying to decipher this dude’s face.

“Get lost,” the guy spits, trying to step past Steve to get to you.

“Um, yeah,” Steve hisses, “I don’t think so.”

“This is none of your business.”

Steve pants and crosses his arms. “Well doesn’t seem like it’d be much of some deadbeat college kid’s business either, so…?” The guy clenches his jaw. “Beat it.”

You cautiously walk up to Steve and you two watch the guy leave. He keeps looking back just about ready to kill both of you but his fury is so satisfying you can’t help but smile mischievously and give him a little wave goodbye.

You chuckle and Steve jumps and looks at you.

“You okay?” He breathes, voice laced with worry.

But it sounds too caring and too enthusiastic. He reels it back a couple notches and puts on a face of apathy. He repeats, “You okay?” Like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

And suddenly now that it’s over and done with and you have a chance to think over all the drama, you deflate.

“Thanks, Harrington,” you mutter and pat his arm before walking off.

Now Steve feels like a douchebag.

He curses himself and grabs your wrist only to realize when you violently yank it away that that sort of interaction might not be the most welcomed right now.

“Sorry — Y/n, are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” You insist and try to walk away.

Steve jogs after you. He has an eagle eye on all of your surroundings and when he finally spots the guy, he almost walks into a light pole. But he’s Steve Harrington so he’s able to play it off in all of his kingly glory.

He mumbles to himself. “Who was that guy anyway?”

You both stop walking and watch him get into his car. Steve looks down to your arms, still so tightly crossed over your chest.

You grimace.

“Chad.”

Everything comes back to Steve in a flash before his eyes.

‘Chad’ was, and is the biggest douchebag to have roamed the halls of Hawkins high in all of human history. So much so Steve has never been sure if Chad was ever his real name because it fits too close for comfort.

(He may not be in the realm of Billy Hargrove who is soon to come, who you’ll one day learn carries all sorts of douche-baggage, and he certainly isn’t in the realm of Tommy H. who is completely riding on his high school career to save him from minimum wage, but never in his years of being ‘King Steve’ has Steve ever seen such an undeserving candidate pulled straight from a Slasher Fic about pretty popular people destined to get slashed.)

Chad never got that title because, despite his popularity, he was an all-around douchebag nobody cared to hand the crown to.

Hell, in contrast to you, Steve would say you’re a princess (the connotation being he’s come to see you as quite sweet), but he knows you’re really a Queen (the connotation being that you are still willing to rip his eyes out of his skull at a moment’s notice during this very, very complicated but consensual relationship).

Never-mind what he’s just seen. He can’t help but think, “Why Chad?”

“I mean seriously Y/n — Chad Kokovsky? That guy is like,” he rolls his eyes, “the biggest douchenozzle to roam the Earth. Okay? Even I can’t stand him.”

Douchenozzle. That’s creative —

You scoff, never having been so offended.

“Not like I asked him to come here, dumbass!” You gently push on his chest then start heading back inside. Steve hisses at your strength and follows with a hand to his chest. “I ran into him at Dairy Queen and he decided to be all creepy.”

“Woah Woah Woah—“ Steve jogs to get in front of you. He holds your arms and looks you in the eyes.

Yours flicker from his own to his hands on your shoulders and he promptly takes his hands away and puts them on his hips.

“He followed you?

You whimper and stomp your foot, wanting this conversation to be over.

“Y/n, he followed you?”

“I guess! But it’s no big deal since he told me he’s like, starting school back up again soon. He’s like on break now. Besides like, isn’t that just something you all do?”

Steve Harrington…has never been so offended…in his life.

“No!” He curses under his breath. “Jesus Y/n, has this happened enough times for you to think it’s normal, cause it’s not normal!”

You bite into your lip and look down at the ground.

Steve can see Tommy embarrassing the absolute shit out of himself just some distance away.

He runs his hand through his hair and comes up with a solution: “Any time you have a problem with a guy, you come to me, alright?”

You step away from him. “Why?”

“B-because—“

“HARRINGTON! HURRY UP!”

Steve grabs your arm gently this time and pushes you closer to the school and under the shade.

“Because,” he lowers his voice even more, “I’m King Steve, Y/n. The hell they gonna do when I tell them off?”

“And I’m ‘Queen Y/n’ so clearly, what about it?”

Steve leans in closer. There’s a smirk tugging at his lips. “Gotta stick together, right? Whole castle goes down without its Queen, right?” You squint. “That’s chess…right?”

You chuckle and shake your head at the ground. “That is chess, Harrington, you are right!”

“See?!”

You look around, suddenly paranoid yourself. “I’m not getting you involved in all of my shit, Harrington. I appreciate the offer, but you can forget it. I’m not jeopardizing my crown since it’s the one thing I get for dealing with this shit.”

“Psh! How much ‘shit’ can you possibly have?”

You raise one brow. Steve suddenly feels butterflies in his stomach just imagining what’s about to come out of your mouth.

You explain but won’t look into his eyes for any of it.

Deep breath—

“So clearly Chad’s kind of obsessed with me for the time being. Richard Mackey and his goons, you know, the ones who sit—“

“On the west end of the cafeteria with the funny glasses, yeah yeah—“

“Yeah. Deborah Sheppard told them a bunch of weird-ass shit so he could woo me,” Steve’s face scrunches up in disgust, “And I don’t want to be the mean bitch who tells off the ‘nerdy’ group so I have to tiptoe around that. Sandy, Sue, Sammy, and Kelly decided to go be dumbasses and got involved with a bunch of college guys and they had a fling over the summer but now none of them want anything to do with it so I’ve been trying to get them off their backs for a while now. Kathy and Deborah H—“ You gasp an overdramatic, cartoon gasp, and clutch Steve’s arm. “Oh, I forgot! And—!”

“Jesus Y/n—“

You smile smugly. “Getting tired yet?”

Steve licks his lips and runs his hand down the side of his face. He sighs and shrugs. “Sure, why not. Me, and you,” he pokes himself in the chest then keeps his finger against yours, “Can solve all of these problems, superficial and not, alright? I mean,” he chuckles, “King and Queen gotta look out for their kingdom, don’t they?”

You chuckle. “You really ready for that Harrington? No offense but I thought your expertise only ranges in picking up chicks and being complicit around Tommy.”

There’s a moment of silence as Steve realizes that is his range of expertise. (And his hair.)

“C’mon,” He mumbles through closed lips.

You look and he has his hand out. You shake it, looking into his eyes till the moment you separate.

You turn and (Jesus, again—) Steve grabs your arm and with a quick tug, you’re twirled back right in front of him.

So close…

Your chest is against his, your knee between his thighs. His look of triumph and excitement about this new partnership has vanished. His eyes are malicious, but his lips frown.

And his voice is low. “Come get me if any of those guys start bothering you…yeah?”

You suck your lips in and nod weakly.

Steve lets go and gives you a gentle push.

Suddenly your walk isn’t as confident as before. It’s modest.

You look over your shoulder just before you reach the door and Steve’s still staring at you, that pitiful, worried look taking over his features.

He snaps out of his gaze, tries to quickly look somewhere that isn’t you.

Damn.

He fell hard.

(Message me if you would like to be tagged whenever I post a Steve imagine!)

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[the-drakeboys]

Come Back to Me - Part 4

Summary: As you rush through the jungle and over the wall to get to Sam, memories of a heart-pounding night in Moscow flood your mind. And when you get to Sam and find that he’s not alone, it’ll take everything you have to save him. 

Pairing: Sam Drake x Reader

Word Count: 2,451

Warnings: Violence, gore. 

A/N: My god, this one took… SO LONG. I so, so hope you all enjoy it! And there...may or may not be a part 5 comin’ just around the corner… Love you guys so much! 

And special shoutouts to these beautiful folks for their amazing comments!! 

@cassieseraphim @archesa @s4mdrake @qwertybubbler 

This is a series! You can find the masterlist here.

---

The first time you saw Sam go down, every bone in your body turned to dust. With your feet launching you forward, your arms grabbing at him, you could feel yourself moving - but it was all as if underwater. You'd only been on a few jobs with these boys by then - a hunt in Peru that went strangely smooth, and a dig in Alaska that proved all but useless; but here, with your boots crunching through the Moscow snow, dozens of heavily armed men pursuing you around every corner; this was the first time it really clicked for you. The reason they'd called you - the reason they thought they might need a medic. 

You remembered it so well - every moment of it. The dark alley, the flurry of snow fluttering past each of you, the freezing cold... and the sound of Sam's shout of pain as the knife broke his skin. 

"Sam!" Nate's voice echoed in your head, his guttural shout striking you as he leapt toward his brother. The man whose knife was burrowed into Sam stood over him, breathless and ready to finish the kill. He didn't expect the young man he'd sent flying just a moment before to bring him to the ground with a heavy tackle, nor was he prepared for the fists flying into his face. Nathan had him down and out in seconds. With your med pack weighing heavily on your back and your gloves on shaking hands, you were next to Sam in an instant. 

"Ah, fuck," he groaned through gritted teeth, his head rolling from side to side in the ice as blood spread slowly from the wound. You breathed finally as your eyes landed on it - a large hunting knife, embedded in his shoulder, just inches from his carotid. Your hands were rapidly pulling gauze from your pack then, every part of you fully focused. 

"We gotta get outta here," Nate called as he shakily stood up and away from the bloodied man on the ground, "I can hear more coming." 

"Alright," Sam grunted, slowly trying to lift himself up. 

You shoved him back down by his opposite shoulder, "Hey! Hey, no, just wait one second-" 

"W-We don't have a second," he argued, setting your nerves on fire as he shifted to get up again, "I'm goin'. Now-" 

You set your knee forcefully onto his chest and stared him down, earning a gasp from his lips. "Don't. Move. Give me twenty seconds." His eyes sent a glare up at you that at any other time would've set you back on your heels - but right now, you had work to do. 

"Y/N! Hurry up!" Nate called, picking up a shotgun from a nearby body and aiming it at the end of the alley, where loud shouts of impending gunmen bounced off every brick wall from around the corner. You worked quicker than you ever had before, wrapping the gauze over his shoulder and around the knife, again and again until it was secure. 

"This is gonna suck," you warned Sam, watching him nod his head as you put pressure down on the wound around the knife. He hissed loudly in pain, clenching his jaw and letting his head loll back against the pavement. "Alright, on your feet." He nodded, and began to pick himself up. With one of your hands holding his arm in place and the other keeping pressure on the wound, you slowly stood with him, Nate reaching out to give him a hand. 

That's when the men made it around the corner. 

"Go, go, go!" Nate called, shooting off one shotgun blast after another in their direction. The three of you scrambled from the alleyway, Sam leaning on you with all of his weight. Bullets shattered at bricks just near your face, as you slipped around another corner and disappeared into the growing blizzard.

The memories were flashing through your mind, the colors blurring together, as your feet carried you through the trees and heavy brush as fast as they could go. You were already out of breath, but the wall was in sight, and all you could think about was finding him, getting to him before they did. All you could think about was whether or not he’d be breathing; whether or not there’d be time. 

You pushed those thoughts away as you reached the wall, the gunfire fading behind you. You listened for other voices, scanned the area ahead for guards - but couldn’t find a thing. 

With a quick adjustment of the pack on your back, you took a breath and lifted yourself onto the edge of the wall, easily climbing over it and rolling forward. You stayed still, running your eyes over the rooftops and buildings of the prison; none of the guards had come back this way yet. Most of them were probably still on Nate - the thought of which twisted your gut. 

He had to make it out. He had to. 

With no time to overthink it, you crawled quickly to the opposite edge of the wall and looked down the thirty or so foot drop. Just as Nate and Rafe had said, a metal awning straight below had been ripped apart, leaving a gaping hole where Sam must’ve fallen through. Sam was there. 

You scrambled across the cement to the part of the railing that seemed the strongest, just around the corner from where Sam had fallen. It was the side of the wall that met with the jungle, and was the shortest distance down to the ground. With a few quick moves, you unraveled the rope from your hip and hooked your grapple to the railing. 

“Here goes nothin’,” you muttered to yourself, lifting over the rail and sliding slowly down the rope. 

“Tomas sus piernas, yo tengo su cabeza.” Oh, shit. The two voices hit your ears and you immediately crouched down against the wall, just daring to peer around the corner to see what you were up against. 

The sight in front of you sent you reeling, your stomach dropping to your feet and your heart breaking into pieces. 

The two guards - big, burly men with pistols at their hips and AK-47s slung over their backs - were huffing with heavy breaths as they carried a body between them. A motionless body, his skin pale, his shirt soaked through with dark, crimson red blood, his arms hanging on either side of him. Had you been standing, your knees would’ve buckled underneath you. 

Sam.

Minutes later, your three tired, damaged bodies shambled up to the motel room door, your faces nearly frozen and Sam's weight swaying from side to side. The pressure you were keeping on the wound felt like pins and needles. "Would you fuckin' let go?" he grumbled, "Jesus Christ, I'm fine." 

You rolled your eyes as Nate fussed with the keys, trying to unlock the door for you both to get inside. "I can't 'let go', I have to hold it in place," you shot back for the fiftieth time, "Now quit moving so much." 

"O-Oh, I'm sorry, is this inconvenient for you?" he griped, his eyes squeezing together with another throbbing wave of pain. “Isn’t this your whole job?” You wanted to punch him. First, you had to patch him up - and then you were gonna punch him. 

"Yeah, it's my goddamn job, so let me do it, would you?" You sent him another death glare and took a deep breath, thanking the universe as Nate finally got the door open and ushered you both inside. 

"Nate, can you grab me some towels? And the brandy from the fridge," you asked through your chattering teeth, the warmth of the room hitting each of your bodies and forcing your nerves back to life. 

"On it," Nate mumbled, striding across the room to the mini fridge. 

"In here," you directed Sam, feeling his body trudge into the bathroom behind you. With your hands still supporting his arm and shoulder, you used your boot to flip the toilet lid down. "Have a seat," you muttered absentmindedly, trying to think of whether or not you had everything you needed in your pack. 

"Bossy," he breathed, his attitude shining through despite the pain he was in as he sat himself down. 

You just shook your head at him. "Can you hold here? Just - right here," you gently let go of his arm, setting his elbow to rest on the edge of the counter, and instead reaching for his opposite hand so he could take over holding pressure. 

He raised a brow at you, the stubborn glint in his eyes driving you crazy. "Seriously?" 

You had had about enough with this man. You grabbed at his hand and pushed it against the wound, eliciting a sharp "Shit!" from him as you finally stepped back. "God, you're a pain in my ass," you huffed, shaking your head and dumping your med pack on the counter. The worry floating through your veins at the way he swayed to the side remained unspoken, your hands shuffling quickly through your pack to get to the sutures and thread. Nate stepped in, handing you the towels and brandy. "Is he always this difficult?" you shot Nathan a look, your hands tugging a large needle and vial from the gear bag. 

"Are you really askin' me that?" he scoffed, crossing his arms tightly around his trembling body. You furrowed your brows, one of your hands going to Sam's good shoulder to steady him. You eyed Nate, his skin pale and eyes rung with dark blue. 

"Alright, well. I got this for now. Go get changed, warm up. I might need you later." Sam watched as you sent his brother out, feeling the concern in your voice at the way he shook. Something in his stomach turned. Nate offered a small, grateful smile, checking on Sam with his eyes before turning and heading back into the room. But Sam didn’t notice; he couldn’t tear his eyes from you.

You struggled to pull yourself together, your shaking hands going for your gun and your mind pushing away the realization that this was it - that Sam could not have survived this. It was becoming more and more real by the minute. 

You raised your revolver, aiming at the guard holding Sam’s feet. 

You pulled the trigger. A single shot into his back. He went down like a bull, landing with a heavy thud as Sam’s legs dropped with him.

“Carajo!” the other guard spat, letting Sam’s arms go and quickly reaching for his own gun. You shot another round from your revolver, but fuck, it missed. The guard shot back, his aim much better than yours, one of three shots connecting with your skin.

“Ah!” you screamed, falling back around the corner. Your hand went to the searing skin of your upper arm, grasping tightly around it as it bled. “Fuck,” you whispered, feeling where the bullet had grazed a slice into your flesh. 

You rolled the revolver’s chamber open - one bullet left. You were trembling as you snapped it shut, willing yourself to get to your feet. But you didn’t have the time. The guard came hurtling at you from around the corner, the barrel of his AK swinging around to face you, and before you could react, your finger pulled the trigger, sending a shot through his heart and forcing his body to the ground in a heap. 

"Okay," you started, eyeing the knife and grabbing at your scissors. “Hold still a sec, I don’t wanna slice you.” You reached for the bottom of Sam’s shirt and started to lift it, bringing your scissors near its hem-

"Woah, woah," he stopped you, causing confusion to envelope your face. "...at least buy me d-dinner first." He cracked a shaky, exhausted grin, and your eye roll could be felt for miles. 

"Would you shut up?" you whispered, fighting the butterflies in your belly and quickly cutting through the thick fabric of his grey henley. As you peeled the shirt from his skin and let it flop to the ground in a pile, Sam gave a small, but noticeable shiver. You softened, knowing how completely shitty this was for him. How much it hurt, how cold and miserable he was. You just wanted this to be over for him. As much of an ass as he was, and as much as he drove you crazy, you just wanted him to be okay.

Your hands draped one of the towels over him, tucking it in warmly around him and rubbing over it at his arm to try to give him some heat. He looked up at you, jostling a little from side to side with your movement. The way you were with him made him crazy. 

“You’ll warm up in a few,” you promised softly. 

“Can I at least get a cigarette?” he croaked with a grin, aching for some nicotine to soothe his nerves.

His request coaxed a small smile out of you, your head shaking as you gently gave his good arm a squeeze. “No. Definitely not.”

You jolted forward, running to Sam’s side and collapsing beside him. Your revolver was forgotten on the ground as you grabbed at him, tears welling up in your eyes. “Baby!” you called, pressing your palms to his cheeks. “Sam, baby, can you hear me?!” 

His skin was clammy, pale, and cool against your touch, his body completely motionless beneath you. You leaned down, resting your forehead against his. “Please… Please…” Your fingers went to the side of his neck, and pressed. They pressed, and felt nothing. You waited, praying, begging. Begging for your Sam to still have a chance, to still be there with you. “Please, Sam. You promised. You promised.”

You slowly burrowed your face into his neck, hot tears rolling down your cheeks as you shook. “I can’t….I can’t d-do this…” you whimpered, your fingers slowly starting to slide back. “I need y-you.” 

And then… a thump. 

A little, quiet thump beneath your fingers. “Oh my god,” you stammered, sitting up. You weren’t sure you felt it. You leaned down, placing your ear over his mouth, your other hand moving to feel his chest and your fingers pressing once again to that spot on his neck.

There it was again - a beat of his pulse under your fingers, and… oh my god. His chest just rose. 

“Sam!” you bumbled tearfully, straightening up and quickly wiping the wetness from your cheeks. Your heart started pumping again with him, your lungs finally filling with air as relief flooded every part of you. “Okay,” you spoke, feeling yourself switch on. “Okay, okay, okay, here we go.”

---

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[stattic-writes]

Dog Toy Pt 2

https://statticscribbles.tumblr.com/post/639099629845233664/masterlist

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[forever-rogue]

Lucky You - Part 1

A/N: Soo, this is my first time writing for Billy and ST in general. Hopefully it’s not complete garbage. This will have a few other parts too! Anywhooo enjoy! No spoilers contained within! xx

Word Count: 4K

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader

Warning: Language, Billy being Billy (but nothing too bad)

MASTERLIST

PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5

»»————-　♡　————-««

“What?!” you snapped, finally unable to ignore the pale ocean eyes that were boring holes into your back. You’d felt his gaze linger on your figure as soon as you had gotten into the school’s gym that was crawling with tons of other students at the moment, meaning that he could watched anyone else - anyone but you. You wished it had been anyone but you. You hated Billy Hargrove…that’s what you had been trying to convince yourself of for the last several months.

But any sort of resolve you had against had slowly been dissipated since the day you had laid eyes on him and first saw that smile, that damned smile that almost never appeared on his face, but when it did you were done for. It was all but perfect, a megawatt smile on a face as beautiful as the most magnificent sunset. But you vowed you’d be in your grave before you ever admitted any sort of attraction to him.

“Well, well,” his warm voice was laced with amusement as he slowly sauntered over to you, sweat glistening all over his well toned and tan body. You refused to turn around, not wanting to give into his power, because you knew that he knew exactly the effect he had on women…most importantly you, “look what the cat dragged in.”

You let out a sigh, running a hand over your face in an exasperated manner, willing him with every fiber of your being to just to away. But of course he didn’t, no, fate would not be that kind. When you didn’t respond, he reached up and gently tugged on your ponytail, knowing it would annoy you more than anything.

“What the hell is your problem?” you almost screeched as you whipped around and came around face to face with him, your hand raised to smack him thoroughly across his pretty mug, just like he deserved. But Billy caught your hand, his fingers clamping down tightly on your wrist as that trademark smirk stretched across his lips.

“Not so fast Princess,” his voice was low but soft as you struggled to free your hand. He seemed amused at how easy it was to fluster you, but he eventually let you go, his hands landing on the his hips, just above the shorts that were slung low on his bottom half. One wrong move and they’d be on the ground, leaving him more exposed than anything. It was a tempting thought, and caused you to bit the inside of your cheek to keep your mind from wandering too far into the gutter.

“What the actual fuck do you want, Hargrove?” you tried to keep your voice tinged with as much as venom as possible, making it clear that you did not like Billy Hargrove. The quickly spreading tingling you felt running through your body was clear evidence that none of that was true. You had felt the sparks flood through your veins as soon as he hand had made contact with your skin. He held up his hands, trying to play the innocent victim card.

“I just wanted to say hi,” he cocked his head to the side, much like a confused puppy, his beautiful eyes as innocent and wide as possible. Damn, he was good, “you look lost, Princess. What’s got you wandering into the gym? Should you be in the library, all caught up in those books you seem to love so much.”

“If that’s your pitiful attempt at humor, it’s not working,” you sighed and took a step away from him. The larger the distance between your bodies, the easier it would be to refuse his advances, or so you figured anyway. Out of the corner of your eye you spied Steve coming out of the locker room, running a hand through his hair, trying to get it back to it’s normal state. A wave of relief flooded through your bones at the sight of your best friend, more ready than ever to leave and forget all about that this encounter. You were definitely not going to think about any of this tonight while you were locked in your bedroom, under the covers, and left with only your imagination. Definitely not.

“It’s seemed to put a bit of a smile on your face” he raised an eyebrow and you just rolled your eyes, ready to head off to the safety of Steve’s warm presence.You just flipped him the bird as you turned on your heel, “awe, come on, you don’t mean that!”

“Do too,” you countered without skipping a beat or casting another glance back in his direction. You heard him sigh softly, a sound of annoyance mixed with defeat, and it gave you a small sense of satisfaction. Another day that you had resisted Billy’s charm advances. It was a good day, and the rest of it was going to be spent with your best friends, which would provide a welcome distraction.

“You’ll go out with me at some point!” he called over at you, causing you to stop dead in your tracks.That was not what you were expecting at all, especially not from Billy ‘Bad Guy’ Hargrove. You swore you could almost detect a bit of softness and fragility to his tone, but surely that was impossible? This was Billy after all.

You turned around and held out your arms as a gesture of both what the hell and try me. You noticed that the corner of his mouth slowly started to turn up into a small smile, “I wouldn’t hold my breath, Billy. But you’re welcome to try. Spoiler alert though, I happen to despise assholes.”

“I’ll accept your challenge, Princess,” he suddenly seemed to have his spunk back, excited by the prospect of the challenge of winning you over. He liked a challenge, difficult or not and you were proving to be the hardest one to date, “once you finally get over yourself you won’t be sorry.”

“We’ll see,” were the last words out of your mouth as you almost skipped over to where Steve as now waiting for you. His mouth was hanging open and a confused grin was etched across his face. He’d only witnessed the last bit of your encounter with Billy but it was enough to make all the hair on his body stand up on end.

“What just happened? Did I just stumble into the twilight zone?” he quickly looked between you and Billy, as you just shook your head and pulled him along with you, “Hargrove-”

“Nothing to worry about, Pretty Boy,” you reassured him, opening the door and stepping into the chilly winter afternoon, pulling your scarf tighter around your neck. It was the middle of January, and winter was still in full force - your favorite. That, combined with the sparks from your interaction with Billy, was enough to lift your spirits as you giggled at the look on Steve’s face, “Billy’s on some weird vendetta, thinking that he can get me to go out with him. I told him he’s welcome to try, but it’ll never work. I, Y/N L/N, will never ever go out with Billy Hargrove.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

February

You abhorred February the majority of the time it rolled around, for a multitude of reasons, namely because it signaled the end of the winter, and the onslaught of spring which led to summer, which was the absolute worst. But anyways, you also hated it because of Valentine’s Day, which you insisted was a crock of shit, all consumerism that got people to buy things they didn’t need, and to shame people who were single.

Not that you didn’t have a Valentine - you always did, a savior in the form of your best friend, Steve. You both hated Valentine’s Day, so you figured why not suffer together? After the first year you had done it, you’d both had so much fun going out and making fun of the all the couples, so in love and showing their affection off to the world, you’d decided to make it a tradition.

“Mornin’ sunshine,” Steve greeted you with a big grin on his face, and a large frosted sugar cookie in his hand. You gave him a quick hug before eagerly taking the large treat and shoving it into your mouth, relishing in the buttery sweetness, “Happy Valentine’s Day to you too.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled, as a few crumbs fell past your lips. Steve sighed and let out a chuckle as he wiped the top of your shirt, “Happy Disgusting Love Day to you!”

“Ahh, there you are,” he laughed as you started to riffle through your locker, attempting to gather all the things you needed for the first period, “hey, we still on for the usual after school? I was thinking we could go see a movie after dinner? It won’t be too late, I promise, and you’ll have plenty of time to finish your homework, little nerd.”

“Very funny, Pretty Boy,” you sighed dramatically at him; teasing each other was the pinnacle of your relationship and you wouldn’t have changed it for the world, “but yes, whatever you want to do is fine with me. But just so you know, I’m picking the restaurant for this evening. I think Hopper’s taking Mrs. Byers to that fancy place. Maybe we can go there and gather intel!”

“You’re so nosy,” he laughed as the bell rang, signaling the start of classes. His eyes widened as he realized he was going to be late again, and he couldn’t risk that. He’d already gotten into too much trouble this year, “I’ll see you at lunch, gotta go!”

“B-bye,” you waved meekly after him, shaking your head at him; he was always something else. Grabbing the rest of your things, you shut the locker, but almost proceeded to drop everything out of your hands as Billy stood there, watching you intently, “Jesus H. Christ, Hargrove! You could have, you know, said something instead of standing there like creepy weirdo.”

“For someone so observant, you’re very clueless,” he threw his back with laughter, momentarily removing the heart shaped lollipop from his mouth, his curls bouncing magnificently in the light. You huffed at him and got ready to walk away so you wouldn’t be late either. Billy stopped as soon as you took a step and reached out to grab your arm in his - he had a strong grip and it sent a shiver up your spine, “hang on for a moment.”

“Billy, I’ve got to get to class,” you stated matter-of-factly, “don’t you have to do the same?”

“Yeah, but when’s the last I cared about that?” he went back to sucking on the lollipop, making a deliberate show of it, and you had to struggled to keep your eyes from flicking to his lips. It would have been wrong to admit that your wished your were that sucker.

“Maybe you should try it sometime,” you pointed out, a mischievous idea crossing your mind as Billy just shrugged, a self righteous little smirk on his face. You reached over and snatched the lollipop from his mouth, surprising him and yourself as you stuck it between your own lips, sucking on it for a few moments before releasing it with a loud pop.

“What are you doing later?” he blurted out his, his tan toned chest rising up and down faster than it had previously. Your actions had caught him off guard and sent all the blood rushing down south, his already tight jeans becoming more and more uncomfortable with each passing moment. A small, delicate laugh escaped your now sticky lips as you slung your backpack over your shoulder, “ahh, come on, Princess, you know you want all of this. Any other girl would be dying to be in your shoes right now.”

“Maybe you should find one of them and proposition them,” you were proud of the effect you had on him as you noticed how he shifted his weight back and forth, a grimace on his handsome face, “besides I’ve got plans.”

“Harrington?” he asked through gritted teeth, annoyed by the idea of that pretty boy having his hands all over you. He knew you were close to him, but he hadn’t realized you were that close. You nodded, and he slammed his hand lightly against your locker, “I didn’t realize you were dating him. Does he even know where your c-”

“Eww,” you stopped before he could go on any further, holding up a hand to silence him, “Steve’s my best friend, dude. I’m not fucking him though, the thought of that alone is enough to make me want to die.”

“Then why are you spending the Valentine’s with him?” he was confused by your words that clearly clashed with your thoughts on him.

“Don’t have a boyfriend and he doesn’t have a girlfriend. Therefore as best friends, we’re spending the day together,” you raised both of your eyebrows at him, “duh. Besides, there’s no one here that’s even remotely captured my interest.”

“Come on, Y/N, just go out with me,” he was growing frustrated by your refusal to give into him. He never had to try this hard with other girls, they always threw themselves at him. Billy Hargrove didn’t have to beg a girl to go out with him, they begged for even the slightest bit of his attention. But not you; no, you provided a challenge he couldn’t back down from him. He was the hunter and you were the prey and he wasn’t stopping until you were his.

“Why?” you played with the sucker in your mouth, just to taunt him a little further, “you’ve given me no reason to say yes to you. Besides, Billy, let’s be honest here, I know your type. You just want a challenge, you only want me because I’m saying no, but as soon as I give in you’re just going to fuck me and then never speak to me again. I’m not into that, I don’t want a bad boy Billy.”

“It’s not like that,” he insisted quietly, although he knew you had a point. He had a reputation for a reason after all, but it had quickly changed once he had met you. He’d dropped all the other girls as he pursued you, attempting to win over your affection.

“Whatever you say, Billy Boy,” you gave him a wink as you turned away and started to head to class; you were well late now, but it was worth it. Any time spent antagonizing Billy was worth. You kept the lollipop in your mouth, a small piece of victory, “keep trying, maybe one day it’ll work!”

»»————-　♡　————-««

March

By the time March rolled around you were already eager for summer vacation to start, the lull of time off from school drawing you in like a siren calling to a sailor. Even though it was still a few months until you could enjoy the freedom of sleeping in without an alarm, not having to worry about homework, and getting to hang around all day with your friends, it was constantly on the back of your mind. You were...distracted to say the least, and there was just one other thing at the forefront of your mind.

Normally it would be school and cramming for exams, making sure to keep up your already perfect grades, but this year there were...other distractions. Namely in the handsome form of Billy. He’d taken it upon himself, almost as if he was on a personal mission, to get you to agree to go out with him. Just one date, one little date he always insisted, reassuring you that that was all it would take for you to fall for him. Normally you’d just roll your eyes at him, pat his cheek and tell him he was cute, but it was never going to work.

Your resolve had weakened ever so slightly, your words less sharp than normal, your glances softened, eyes not as hard as they used to be. You thought it hadn’t been that obvious but the relentless teasing from Steve and Nancy were enough to see that you were incredibly obvious. You denied everything they said, firmly reiterating that you would sooner be in your grave than ever even kiss him. You’d gotten close enough to that when you’d stolen his lollipop the month prior, the taste of which you were sure still lingered on your lips, sometimes bringing a blush to your cheeks.

But it was Pi Day, which you wouldn’t have known about, but your math teacher was a huge nerd, much like you were in other ways, and wanted to celebrate. He’d brought in several pies to share for the class and only taught for a few minutes before deciding to let you all do whatever you wanted. You were glad for the reprieve; it had been a long week already and you figured you’d use the period to take a quick cat nap - not before eating your piece of pie of course. It was a delicious looking Boston Cream Pie and you were eager to dig into it.

You were only stopped when Billy stepped next to you, sliding into the abandoned seat across from yours. Of course, he just couldn’t let it go.

“Hiya Princess,” he smirked as you set down your plastic spork, letting go of the idea that you’d get to eat this pie in peace. You propped your elbow on the top of the desk and rested your head in your arm as you glared at him, “what? No greeting? Not even a smart remark?”

“What Billy?” you gave in, watching as his face between through several expression changes, ultimately landing on bemused. He looked good today, better than anyone should have looked if you were being quite honest, and it was getting harder not to stare at his chest, how the shirt he wore was perfectly taught across his muscles. He reached over and swiped his fingers across the top of your pie slice, scooping up a bit of the whipped cream.

“Just wanted to say hello,” he said innocently as he brought his fingers to his lips and licked off the sweet cream, tongue darting out of his mouth purposely to make sure he had your attention. He never broke eye contact with you, and it was a horrible struggle not to give in and watch him, and you instinctively licked your own lips which suddenly felt way too dry and chapped. You wondered how his lips would feel against yours, if they were as soft and supple as they looked.

“I’m sure,” you suddenly regained a bit of confidence as you came back to your senses, taking the plate and pulling it further away from his reach. He’d been hovering around you even more lately, always making sure to catch your eye, a smirk or wink cast at you. He was starting to break you down, and you had a feeling he knew. But you refused to admit defeat, and even if you wanted him (which you didn’t, you constantly assured yourself), you were never in a million years going to let him wear you down. You weren’t like all the other girls and never would be.

“I can be a nice guy,” he must have felt a rush of bravado because he reached over and placed his hand under your chin and tilted your face up to look at him, “maybe not to everyone, but for you. I can tell there’s something different about you, and I want to know more. I can tell you like me too, Princess, even if you’re denying it to yourself. I can see the way you look at me, especially when you think I’m not looking.”

“Oh?” you were growing more annoyed with him by the second, his normal swagger setting back in, “and how do I look at you?”

“With those big innocent eyes...I can tell you’re not though. I’m guessing I’m going to get to find out soon enough just how not innocent you are,” the words barely left his mouth before you took the plate of pie and smashed it onto his face, covering his features in the sticky chocolate cream.

“Tell me how I look at you now, Billy,” you fumed, all eyes in the classroom turning to face you as you single-handedly embarrassed him in front of everyone. He wiped the pie off of his eyes, anger spreading throughout his body as he bit his tongue to hold back his words, “don’t you dare presume you know a single thing abut me, Hargrove. I will never, ever go out with you, and that isn’t just a bunch of words, that’s promise.”

“Miss L/N! Mr. Hargrove!” your teacher wasn’t quite sure what to do as an awkward silence hung in the room and people starting to whisper among themselves. He sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose, shushing the people around you, “that is enough out of the two of you. Detention for the next three weeks for the two of you, no ifs, ands, or buts.”

“What the f-”

“Do you want to make it four weeks?” he raised an eyebrow at you, stunned by your sudden insubordination; you were normally the teacher’s pet, always doing whatever you were told. But there was something about Billy that set you off in a completely different direction.

“No,” you sighed, casting annoyed glances between him and Billy, who was silently fuming as cream slowly dripped off of his face and onto the floor.

“Good,” he sighed, “now I want the two of you out of my classroom. Hargrove clean yourself off and Miss L/N, I recommend you take the time to reflect on your actions.”

“Fine,” you grabbed your bag and stormed out of the classroom, leaving them all behind, annoyance filling every fiber of your being. You never used to be like this, you were the good girl. But now? Now Billy was starting to get to you, and he was likely pissed to the point were he’d never let you live it down.

“That was a bit dramatic, wasn’t it?” Billy scoffed as he stumbled out of the classroom, heading for the bathroom. You remained silent as he started to walk past you, a cool air about him, “didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Shut up,” you hissed at him, wishing your actions had been a bit more of deterrence on him, “I hate you, Billy Hargrove. You’re nothing to me, and you never will be. Drop the act and just leave me alone.”

“You just pied me in the face in front of everyone,” he pointed out, “you think I’m going to let you get away with that? I don’t think so, Princess.”

“Whatever Billy,” you rolled eyes at him, trying not to think about how good he looked, even covered in pie, that you may or may not have wanted to lick off of his face. It simply wasn’t fair, but you weren’t going to let it get to you, “we are never ever ever going out. No matter how hard you try.”

“We’ll see,” he said with a smirk before starting to duck into the bathroom, propping it open with one toned arm, “I always get what I want. And I want you. You’ll give into me eventually, trust me.”

He didn’t give you a chance to get another word in before he disappeared into the bathroom. You thought about storming in after him, but stopped yourself - the two of you alone in the bathroom might lead to exactly what you were trying to prevent.

You were weakening little by little and Billy knew it.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[kimshavacado]

Dead Heat Ch. 7

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: Arranged Marriage/Mafia AU

Summary: Three extremely powerful families with enough power to bring down entire governments, all with vastly different views on how things should be run. The Min family thinks everything can be solved with money, the Jeon family think everything can be solved with violence, and the Kim family relies more on thought which leads to a lack of action. When Kim Y/N loses her father, she only has one way to save herself and her family. But it involves having to give herself over to a stranger. How the hell is she not supposed to punch him in his stupid rich face?

Dead Heat Masterlist

Warnings: Language, Awkwardness

A/N: I had a dream about an ending different than I had originally planned so this chapter will decide which ending I use in the next chapters. There will be a decision Y/N will have to make, and I’ll appreciate your input into what she should do. Enjoy!

Chapter 7: I Always Sleep On Left

Jimin’s POV:

Jimin has been extremely bored recently. He blames this on the fact Jeon’s pulled everyone back, but he can’t help but think about the hole in his chest where you once were. He doesn’t know what to do with himself.

Naturally, he finds himself at the same old bar watching the rest of the guys drink and dance with women. Most nights are like this recently, filled with bitter feelings and bitter alcohol.

He mindlessly takes out his phone and scrolls through his messages. He half scans the conversations until he gets to you. Against his better judgement, he opens the conversation and looks again at the last things you sent.

He reads through each of your pleas of reassurance. He could see you were worried, that is, until the messages stop. He stares at the screen until he’s had enough, then makes the stupid decision to scroll up.

He sees the text exchange you have before your wedding. Then he sees the one about your father. It doesn’t stop, he finds himself going back through the years, torturing himself.

Around the time he reaches some messages about past birthday shenanigans, Taehyung plops himself ungracefully in the chair next to Jimin. He closes the messaging app and focuses instead on his drink.

“Why do you look so depressed? You look like you’ve just been dumped or something.” Taehyung comments.

“Something like that.” Jimin replies, causing Tae to let out a sigh.

“Come on! We don’t have any responsibilities right now, you should be enjoying it while you can.”

“I know, I’m just bored. Honestly, I never thought I’d want to work so badly.” Tae laughs at this but is interrupted by a notification on everyone’s phones.

“Well it looks like you won’t have to wait long, we’ve got a meeting tomorrow. I hope boss has got plans.” Taehyung pats Jimin’s back before walking back towards the rest of the guys.

Jimin can only sit and hope for the best. What that was exactly, he doesn’t know yet. Instead of getting hammered, he thinks he’ll just call it a night and leaves early for once.

The meeting is buzzing. No one knows the entire story just yet, but they are aware that they’d finally be able to do something. Jungkook has shared his father’s immediate wishes.

As far as what the Min’s know, they’ve been assuming the worst. The only way to know for sure is to get their hands on everything they have. Cue the breaking in plan.

If there was a time when you and Yoongi were out of the house, there’d be practically no one to stop them. Everyone was concerned with the safety of you two, not the safety of the information you had.

The plan would get them the info and also had the advantage of being a scare tactic. We could reach you before and we still can.

When Jimin hears this, many thoughts go through his head again. He’s torn over all the different ending scenarios in his head. He’s only pulled out of it when the meeting ends and everyone leaves. He needs to pull himself together.

Your POV:

You lie in your bed and stare at the ceiling, still having questions stirring around in your head. You really hated Yoongi’s habit of not cluing you in on things, it made you feel vulnerable and not in control.

Speaking of vulnerable, you can’t help but be paranoid. It’s at least obvious that someone had broken into the Min mansion. Yet here you are, just pretending nothing happened, sent to bed like a child. You’re starting to resent your relationship with Yoongi again. Him attempting to protect you is doing nothing but make you feel more like a child.

When you close your eyes, you can’t seem to quiet your mind. These thoughts of the unknown and the knowledge that someone could’ve been in your room looking through your things tonight cause you to be restless. You can’t just sit there anymore.

A second later you find yourself standing in the hall outside your door. No destination in mind, you just need reassurance. But you’re not quite sure what you need to be reassured of yet. The hallway is dark and eerie so you head towards the lighter end where it opens to the main staircase.

When you reach the end of the hall you hear voices from the grand foyer. You tiptoe across to the other side of the stairs to avoid catching any of their attention. It’s then that you realize you’ve found your way to the door to Yoongi’s study. You go to knock but hesitate. What we’re you even going to say?

“He’s not in there.” A voice scares the shit out of you and you not so gracefully collapse against the door of the study. When you come to your senses, you recognize the face as the guard you incapacitated during one of your first nights living here.

“Jesus! Not cool. At all.” You silently reprimand him.

“Just trying to save you the mental dilemma of figuring out if you should knock.”

“Well I’d appreciate it if you’d save that for when there’s no fear of death while walking around the halls.” You huff out.

“Well I’d appreciate it if I wasn’t decked by the new lady on her first night, but then again, there’s some crazy ass people out there.”

You scoff.

“Like I said, he’s not here. He went to bed a bit ago.” He says before you can make another comeback. You decide try your luck for answers.

“Who are the guys downstairs?” You ask. He lets out an uninterested sigh and starts to walk away.

“Go ask your husband.”

You decide that you now feel no remorse for knocking him out before.

Eventually you find yourself back at your bedroom but instead of going inside you look down to Yoongi’s bedroom door at the end of the hall. Would he still be awake?

You shuffle your way down the hall and put your ear to the door. After about ten seconds, you don’t hear anything so you turn around and stare back the way you came. The next couple minutes is a very awkward back and forth of walking from your door to his and then changing your mind.

You’re leaning against the frame of the doorway, still trying to figure out what to ask him. Of course, that’s when the door cracks open.

Yoongi’s head pops out with a look of suspicion like he’s confronting some unknown wild animal. His face is inches from yours for a moment. You immediately straighten yourself

“What… are you doing?” He asks, rightfully weirded out.

“Um… Just… walking around?” You visually cringe at the unconvincing answer.

“Uh, you probably… shouldn’t. We’ve got guests.” The entire conversation is incredibly awkward because of your weird behavior. The pauses in between your and his sentences are almost unbearable.

“Is it because of the break in?” Duh, of course it is, why are you asking him that?

“Yeah. There’ll be more people tomorrow. I’ll tell you about it then.” You nod before looking down at your feet. After another uncomfortable pause Yoongi sighs and opens up his door a bit more.

“Y/N, why are you walking around outside of my door in the middle of the night? It’s not because you want to ask about those men, you’re smart enough to figure that out by yourself.”

You don’t really know why you were drawn to Yoongi, because he doesn’t really know much more than you do yet. And now he’s calling you out on it, but you don’t know how to answer. You’re just glad that Yoongi is patient enough to wait for you to figure it out.

“Jimin…” You stop, finally realizing the issue you seem to have.

“My god, why am I going to tell you this?” You whisper to yourself. You rub your face as if that would help gather yourself. Your eyes connect with Yoongi’s.

“After my home was broken into, when I was younger, I…Jimin…helped me. I’d experienced how easy it was for them to just…” You take a deep breath as you look away from him again. “I had him then. He stayed with me because…I was scared.”

You open your mouth to continue. Maybe find some sort of way to keep up your façade and say you weren’t scared. Trying to prove something, but the words don’t come out.

Yoongi nods in a sort of understanding. Which is weird because you still haven’t actually given a reason to why you came to him.

“Alright. Look, on the condition that you leave the awkwardness here, you can stay here. With me. If you want.”

“Um, I didn’t..”

“Well, you asked without asking.” Your frozen state causes him to explain his decision more. “What kind of a guy would I be to have my wife suffer through her past without me.” Sometimes he just says the weirdest shit.

He turns heel and walks into his room but leaves the door open for you to follow. It’s dark inside but you try to analyze the layout and décor. He suddenly turns around sharply and points a finger at you.

“You’re not going to jump me, right?” He asks, very accusatory.

“What!? NO.” You say, a bit horrified as to what he meant.

“Kidding. I’m a light sleeper anyway. I’d see you coming.” He laughs and you see his façade fade in less than a second. How can he go from serious to joking that quickly? It’s mentally exhausting to witness.

“I have something to take care of real quick anyway. I’ll be back in a few, just… go to sleep I guess.” He states before sneaking out the door leaving you alone.

What is even happening right now? You’re in his room about to sleep in his bed. His bed is bigger and looks warmer than the one you were given down the hall. And despite his personality, he seems to have excellent taste in décor.

To save your mind from overworking again you decide to just do as he said and attempt to sleep. Maybe it’s the welcoming embrace of the softest sheets you’ve ever felt in your life or maybe it’s the knowledge that Yoongi will be back, but something finally allows you to drift off. Shit, you could get used to this.

For once, you don’t dream about the past. Tonight you look to the future.

Jimin’s POV:

They have been told it’s been about 20 minutes since you left by the time they arrive. They have placed their men strategically as to not alert anyone inside. Jimin is somewhere on the side of the building listening to the surveillance team.

“All I see is two on the main floor. Just guards.”

“No need for elaborate avoidance then. Take them out and we’ll be able to waltz in.”

“I’ll take team alpha in straight through the front then.”

Jimin practically goes through the entire plan just watching. Many people, a few gun shots, and order to enter.

“You know what we’re looking for. Find anything. Meet back here in 20 minutes.”

“Jimin let’s go find his office!” Taehyung cheerfully chants while skipping up the stairs. As he follows up the stairs all that goes through his mind is how wrong this all feels.

He doesn’t get to wallow in the mental crisis for long before Taehyung is kicking down the door to Yoongi’s study.

“Wow! This place looks like it’s owned by an old man!” Taehyung makes fun of the dark wood furniture and old dusty books. “I’ll start at the cabinets, you wanna go through the desk?”

“Sure.” Jimin responds blandly. He shuffles through all the documents on the desk before reaching for the drawers. Inside he finds conveniently labeled envelopes with the info they are looking for.

“Woah! You got it? Man, that’s a lot.” Taehyung takes one of the folders. He looks through it as Jimin looks through the one with your name on it.

“How’d they get these pictures of us?” Taehyung shows him the pictures of their group and looks back to the ones in your folder.

“There’s no way they don’t know what we’re trying to do.” Jimin says grimly.

“Come on! Let’s take these downstairs.” Taehyung slaps his back before scooping up some folders and walking out the door to the study. Jimin waits a very long few seconds before he follows.

The next morning, as Jimin finds himself lost in thought, Taehyung approaches him again, persistant as ever.

“Whatever you’re thinking about is eating you alive. Think about something else for once, you’re no fun when you’re depressed.” He whines. He’s actually a good friend and cares for Jimin in his own way. Jimin nods in acknowledgement to his statement.

“Let’s go out, I think it’d do you some good. I’ll even let you pick.” Taehyung offers Jimin. “We could invite the hyungs, like old times.” He gives a bright, innocent looking smile. Jimin puts his face in his hands.

“Maybe your right.” He needs to remember why he’s here. He needs to just quiet the war in his mind for good, and he might know a way he can do that.

Your POV:

You’re very warm. Hot almost, but not uncomfortably so. You come half into consciousness before going wide eyed at the face centimeters from yours. It seems like he had crawled into bed on the same side you had already occupied last night.

You stop breathing and slowly inch backwards until there’s an appropriate distance between you two. When he moves a bit you freeze yourself. He opens his eyes and reads your freaked out expression before rolling his eyes and closing them again.

“I always sleep on left.”

After a few minutes, you slowly escape the warmth of the bed to sneak out. If Yoongi notices, he doesn’t try to stop you. You head back to your room, which now feels cold and lonely. You wash up, get dressed, and prepare yourself for the undoubtedly long day your about to have because of the men downstairs.

Just as you throw on a sweater, you hear your phone ring. It’s such a mundane thing that it takes you a second to realize that no one should be calling you. As you stalk over to your phone cautiously, your heart sinks to your feet when you read the name on the screen.

Jimin.

** Do you answer or decline? **

A/N: Do you answer or decline? The decision is one that will determine the ending and will directly affect the lives of multiple characters. As Y/N, think about what the choice means for others. Do you want to make things messy? Do you want to fight for what you believe? Do you trust him? What do you do?

Next Chapter

Tags: @badbyeyoongi @whothefuckstolemykeds @xxqueenwxtchxx @alecmidnight @rjsmochii @itsrapmonstanotdancemonsta @ superarmyofdreamersuk