worstloki · 8 months ago
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why is loki constantly threatening/attempting to vore thor
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bruciemilf · 1 month ago
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The Penguin going into detail about the Maroni/Falcone family feud makes me FERAL.
It just makes me think about. Young Oz. He’s hungry, scrappy, and slick, and if Gotham wants a piece of him, it’ll have to come get him herself. He doesn’t chase.
Makes me think about Sal and Falcone fighting at any moment’s notice. Not a day goes by where the notorious families don’t try to kill eachother in bright daylight.
They made a big fucking mistake fighting on Wayne’s street, thought.
Imagine Thomas, only in sweatpants cause it’s 8 in the goddam fucking morning, angrily stomping out of his house, holding a sleeping baby Bruce with one hand and a gun in the other.
“Hey! You Drop pushin’ cocksuckers wanna murder eachother, do it off my fucking lawn!” There’s a collective gulp within them. Falcone tries saying something and gets shot in the knee.
“Anyone else have a speech prepared?”
The silence is very clear.
“Oz!” Oz jumping. He’s been sitting at Sal’s side just for this, — if Falcone asks, he’ll just say ‘I wanted to make sure he doesn’t get ya, boss’ as always. “Get inside, come on.”
At the end of the day: Oz plays for the biggest dog. Even if that’s his annoying childhood best friend.
So he grumbles, hurries off on a bad leg, — Thomas offered him better braces and like hell he’ll accept. The doors get locked. “…Thanks—“
Thomas whips around, a sharp, vicious motion. Pain cuts from the tip of his ear to the bow of his lips, flesh cut by the hard barrel of the gun. Hurts less than his ego.
“You’re going to get yourself fucking killed. “
“Not your fucking problem, fyi.”
“FYI? As long as you’re alive, you’re MY fucking problem, fyi.” He tosses the gun in Oz’s lap, along with a still sleepy baby Bruce, who touches on the fresh wound on his face gently.
And Thomas walks away like it’s so casual. “Cmon, I’m making cannolis. “
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taintedcigs · 9 months ago
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i slept with someone from corroded coffin and all i got was this stupid song written about me.
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ROCKSTAR!FBOY!EDDIE X READER
summary: fooling around with a famous rockstar who's a notorious playboy sounds perfect on paper, until you catch feelings for him. that's why you decide to end things, to not get your feelings get hurt, and its all going perfectly, until eddie releases a song, written all about you.
warnings: smut, p in v, MINORS DNI!!!!, pet names, praising?, lovey dovey, kinda angst and arguments, drgs & alcohol mention, swearing? idk this is kinda cheesy n cute with a mix of fluff sprinkled honestly!
author's note: the indented parts are texts between steve and reader and thenn reader and eddie. they look confusing as fuck im sorry i just wanted to make them look unique but they look stupid. also yes. i patted myself in the back after i found this title (thank you fob). and yes the lyrics are inspired by i don't care im on a fob kick sue me! and ofc fboy!eddie isn't actually that much of a fboy bc if i can't write lovesick eddie ill die. this is super cheesy so i still struggled a lot but UGH. not proof-read ignore all mistakes
also credits to @dumplingsjinson for the prompts! (i changed them but still!) and @saradika for the dividers! pls like + rb + interact w me in anyway to support my writings!! ty!!
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DINGUS sent you a spotify link. did you listen to this? yeah. its kinda romantic. no. the lyrics are insane. n all about u okay? are u at the party rn? yeah. u comin? soon he’s there too u already knew that, didn’t u?  false accusations r rude, steve.
You click your phone off with a groan, but he was right. You couldn’t stay away from him, and maybe, just maybe, this was your way of running into him, accidentally. 
Because ever since he released the song, the tabloids had gone crazy with it, half of the lyrics screamed you and all of the old headlines pointed at you, the mystery girl Eddie used to be seen with, and you really were growing tired of seeing your name next to “Munson’s new girl.” 
Because you weren’t his new girl, you weren’t his anything. He was a cocky asshole who was good with a guitar and was even better at fucking. And that was something both of you could relate to, the only thing you had in common with him. Or, so you thought. 
But of course, as with everything else, the things between you changed, you started staying over, he started staying over, and the two of you even went on fucking dates, disguising them under ‘we were just hungry, is all.’ 
You tried to keep up the cool girl act, like you could fuck someone and not catch feelings. Every inch of you itched not to care, to act like it was all fine, but it was all fucking bullshit, you cared, so fucking much that your chest ached. The more you got to know him, the more you fell for him, and the more you fell for him, the more you realized there was no fucking way this would work. 
Cocky rockstar who spent more time doing drugs than sleeping, with girls all over him? The imaginary red flag bells rang in your ear, even now. He wasn’t looking for a relationship and you knew that. That’s why you ended it two months ago. Or at least, you started ignoring him two months ago. 
Yet, he had been calling and texting you, wanting to meet up, drunken slurs of nonsense, gibberish voicemails, and yet you never answered, because if you did, you knew you’d be back to pathetically swooning over him.
Until today, just because of that stupid song, like it meant anything. That douchebag probably wrote songs about every girl he fucked. 
You weren’t special. 
Another ding sound from your phone almost startled you, the contact name made you groan even louder. “don’t FUCKING answer.” That didn’t mean shit. It was just something stupid to make you feel better that you couldn’t stay away from him, because you knew, deep down that if you really didn’t want him to contact you, you would’ve deleted his number, and blocked him. You were too chicken shit to do that, and still desperately wanted to hear from him. 
So you settled on that contact name. Like it made a difference, like it changed anything. 
DONT FUCKING ANSWER did you listen to the song?
Don’t fucking answer. The contact name should be enough to convince yourself that.
Too late.
                                                                   no. don’t lie to me, sweetheart.                                                                            why would i lie?
You sink into the couch, a much quieter corner of the party, not even bothering to socialize. Your brows furrow, index finger flying to your lips anxiously, as you chew on it to patiently wait for an answer.
You sip on your drink with a nervous gaze on your screen, barely noticing the way the couch sink further when someone else took a seat next to you. 
“Hi.” The gravelly voice pulls your attention away from the screen, making you set your drink aside as you look up, finding yourself face-to-face with him. 
Shaggy bangs cascade onto his forehead, and with your exaggeration, it looks longer than the last time you saw him. Black jeans cladded with chains. A graphic tee messily thrown over his heavily tatted chest, that you could still imagine right about now—pathetic. He looked just about the same, the deep dimple adorning his soft cheeks had seemed to disappear, wearing a scowl instead, that tiny voice in your head told you that was your doing, that maybe he was just as miserable as you. Maybe your feelings weren’t fully one-sided.  
Shit. 
“Eddie?” Squeaky, and annoying, you were sure that’s how your tone sounded, yet he didn’t seem to comment on it.
“‘m glad you remember my name, sweetheart,” he scoffs sarcastically, leaning further into the plush couch, elbow propped at the side, eyeing you with frustration. 
“W—what the hell are you doing here?” You stutter as if you weren’t expecting to run into him. Full of bullshit. 
“Did ya really think you could ignore me forever, huh?” He tilts his head slightly, almost expectedly, earning an eye roll from you. 
“I wasn’t ignoring yo—”
Eddie tuts quickly, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that cuts through the ambient noise of the party, “I thought we said no more lies, huh?” 
With a huff, “Why are you here, Eddie?” you mumble.
“Am I not allowed to party?” He banters, brows slightly raised, making you huff out an exasperated breath, your eyes bore into him, almost to signal him ‘Take this seriously.’
“I wanted to know what you thought.” He shrugs like it was normal to just come running after everything just to know what you thought of the song. 
“The song?” He nods in confirmation.
“Didn’t like it,” you confess, avoiding his gaze, but your brows betray you, lifting ever so slightly.
He tsks, shutting you off quickly, “You see that little quirk your brow did? That only happens when you lie, you can’t help it. You do that when I ask you if you ate the last pizza slice, or when I ask if you watched the next episode of the show we were supposed to watch together, or when you—” 
“Fine, fine! I liked it,” you groan, interrupting him and suddenly standing up from the comfort of the couch, being so face-to-face with him immediately making your nerves bubble.
“Just liked?” He tilts his head slightly, a smirk curving on his lips. 
A deep sigh of breath, “what do you want, Munson?”
He stands up with you, making you back away from him with a heavy footstep, the entire party was too loud and crowded, yet, in this stupid corner, it was just the two of you. “For you to admit that you loooved the song, and how much you missed me,” he sing-songs, taking a step closer to you, musky smell invading your senses, making you take a deep breath.
Both of you stand near the wall, and it should be awkward, it should be enough to make you leave, but all it does is draw you closer to him.
“You’re annoying.” 
“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”
“I wasn’t avoiding—” He tuts, with his stupid index finger up, rejecting your lie.
“I—I don’t know what you expected.” You shrug, so nonchalantly that his gaze narrows, chest aching with the implications of your words.
“We both knew this wouldn’t last forever, didn’t we?” You chew the inside of your lip to stop those tears that had been begging to flow ever since you listened to the song, wiping off that smirk on Eddie’s lips. 
“Would’ve been nice if I got a reminder, and not have been just fully ghosted, huh?” The brunette grumbles with a downturn of his lips, shaking his head in disbelief. 
“Oh, don’t act all high and mighty, isn’t that what you do all the fucking time?” you snap, gaze narrowed, and arms crossed against your chest. 
“Fuck girls and then leave them? Did it crush your ego this fucking much that I did before you could?” 
“What the fuck does that mean?” He retaliates. 
“It means I was smart enough to pull myself away from your bullshit,” you rasp, disdain written all over your face.The room seems to shrink as the distance between you decreases. 
Another step closer to you, and you didn’t realize your back had hit the wall now. “My bullshit? God, that’s fucking rich, if I seem to recall correctly sweetheart, you were in this as much as I fucking was!”
“Oh, was I?” You bark out a chuckle, cruel, mocking, “I don’t remember being okay with you fucking half the city.” Realization of how bitter and jealous that sounds, dawns on you much later than the words leave your lips, and thankfully, Eddie’s too fucking immersed to realize the double meaning of your words. 
“Are you fucking kidding? No strings attached! Non-exclusive! That’s what you fuckin’ signed up for!” His voice echoes, mirroring his frustration, and you open your mouth.
But he doesn’t let you speak further, cutting you off sharply. “Is this all because of that new guy you’re seein’?” 
“What? What guy?” 
“The one who was all over you earlier,” he bites out, jaw clenched, and you can almost taste his bitterness in the air.  
“The same one you fucked at Jeff’s party.”
“Are you stalking me, Munson?” 
“Did you just want an excuse to end things? Are the two of you serious or somethin’?” His voice wavered between anger and desperation, gaze pathetically searching for yours, to gauge your reaction.
You scoff. Did he really think you’d end things because of a stupid fling you had which in the first place occurred just so you could forget him? He was so goddamn clueless it drove you insane. 
But what you didn’t realize was that you were just as clueless, if not more, because why would he write a song all about you, if this was just about sex? Because who would get so jealous of someone they didn’t care about? 
Say my name and his in the same breath.
I dare you to say they taste the same. 
The lyrics from his stupid song swirled your thoughts, yet you were still too stupid to see it, weren’t you?
Another step closer to you, a dangerous game the two of you liked to play. He smelled alluring, a fucked up mix of nicotine, his musky cologne, and that damn leather jacket. “Do you really think, he could compare to me, sweetheart?” 
Say my name and his in the same breath.
“Tell me he’s fucking better, and he’s actually what you want, and I’ll fucking leave, I’ll bury all the other songs I wrote, tell me, and I’ll be out of your hair forever.”
I dare you to say they taste the same. 
And just like that, all the defenses you put up, all the times you ignored him, they are cracked, disappearing into thin air. You hate it, you hate that he has this effect on you, you can feel your mind getting hazier, eyes blinking rapidly to process what the fuck is going on, and his face is mere inches away from yours. You knew their names didn’t taste the same. And you knew he could never ever compare to Eddie.
“Tell me,” he encourages, dares you to. You fail to notice how much emotion his gaze carries, how the corners of his lips twitch, just at the thought of you finally admitting you don’t want him. His stomach turns at the thought, this is his last chance, he knows that, and he can’t fucking lose you. He can’t. 
And you don’t know any of that, but you knew, know that no one else could compare to him. And you hate yourself for thinking that, you hate yourself for falling for him, the world stops rotating on its axis when he’s in your peripheral vision, and it’s fucking disgusting. Pathetic. Stupid. Because you know the two of you have no chance. But here you are. 
“H—he is b—” Of course, your brow quirks up almost immediately, betraying you quicker than you can even attempt to lie. 
That dawning smirk appears on his lips again, it’s mocking, and just as much smug. You want to wipe it off of his stupidly pretty face. “Tell me,” he dares you, again. This time much cockier and confident, and you suddenly realize how small you feel under him.
“He isn’t,” your meek voice is barely audible.
And you don’t register the shaky breath he draws when the words leave your lips, giving him the confirmation he needs. You wanted him, he had no fucking clue why you ghosted him, yet you still wanted him. Just as much as he wanted you. 
Both of his hands were placed on the wall now, towering over you, making your breath get caught up in your throat. “Speak up.”
“No, fuck! You know he’s not, you know he could never fucking compare to you, you fucking know tha—” He shuts you up with a rough kiss, lips pressed against yours messily, letting the petty comments die down your throat. Because this is all he wanted, needed to hear anyway. 
“Up,” he grunts into the kiss, tapping your thighs, hoisting you up from your waist to help you wrap your legs around him, tight, he wants you at his mercy, locked to him. 
You wrap your legs around him, barely, the melty sensation in your knees making you so shaky that he barks out a laugh into your lips, holding you close, firm, the butterflies in your stomach traveling all across your body.
He lifts you up as if you are weightless, arms wrapped around you strongly as he carries you to the nearest empty bedroom, impressively without hitting your back anywhere, so roughly that your core throbs at the feeling of his arms around you.
“Baby,” he mutters as he lowers you down on the bed swiftly, smooth, gaze darkened and pupils blown wide, all the pent up desire waiting to explode. 
“Eddie,” you beg, shaky voice sounding purely angelic to his ears once he got rid of his shirt, shrugging it off with a huff, his fingertips grazing against your top, feeling your hardened nipples, causing gasps out of you, he’s quick to pull it over your head while you run your fingers up the grooves of his stomach, the tip of your fingertips almost burns everywhere you touch. 
He groans at the sight of your bare breasts, “missed thi-you,” he corrects himself, because that’s all he wanted anyways, you. 
He nips at your nipples, tongue good at giving attention to both of them, all wet and warm, making you squirm under his touch, you’re quick to get rid of everything else, leaving you in your panties, making him grunt. 
The pad of his thumb rubs against your left nipple, leaving goosebumps in its wake, while his other hand travels down your chest, then your stomach, finally drawing circles when it stops between your thighs, ghosting over your panties before he tugs them down your legs, spreading them apart with a slight hum, pupils blown so wide that you can’t admire those chocolate hues anymore. 
He visually drinks in that sight of you, laid down on the couch, eyes squeezed shut, back arched, and he hasn’t even touched you yet. You’re completely at his mercy and his chest aches with need. “So pretty like this f’me,” he coos into your chest, pushing his middle finger inside of you. Making you feel so good that you can’t stop the gasps coming out of your lips.   
Pleasure shivers through everywhere he sucks and touches, his finger eases into you when he adds another one, a moan escaping you quickly. “Need to be in here, sweetheart, d’ya have any idea how much I missed this?” 
You don’t. You don’t know about the sleepless nights, the drunken ones, the drug-induced ones in an attempt to recreate the high you gave him. It’s fucked up, it’s insanely toxic. Yet, he can’t get enough of you. 
His gaze upon you is dangerous, maybe it’s because he had missed you so goddamn much, or maybe because he didn’t know where this would lead, but it felt fucking sentimental, different somehow, and he could feel you, everywhere on his skin.
Your hips start rocking up against him when the pad of his thumb flicks over your clit, making you arch your back, whines, mumbles leaving your lips. And all he can muster is, “so goddamn beautiful, look at you whining for me.”
You can feel his bulge rub against your thigh every now and then, it’s distracting, almost agonizing. You desperately need it inside of you, you had missed him, missed his touch, missed the feeling of him filling you to the brim, you missed seeing his face contort in pleasure when he was inside of you, you wanted him to never forget you again. 
That’s why you feel so numb, can barely speak, and of course, Eddie notices, how unusually quiet you are, and he wants to make this unforgettable, just so you have another reason to come back to him. Just so you don’t leave him, just so you stay forever. 
“Gone too quiet on me, honey, tell me what you need,” he coos down at you, thumb still caressing your pussy, and all you can fucking do is chew down on your bottom lips, eyeing his bulge that was begging to get out. And he barks out a goddamn chuckle, “P—please, Eddie.” Pathetically leaves your lips. 
And normally he would make you beg, tease further, but he reaches to tug down his pants quickly, because fuck, he had missed you. And he can’t bear the thought of not being inside of you any longer. 
Thinking is not your strongest suit right now either, your brain is mushy, all the nights and days spent thinking about him, about this explodes into your body. Your pussy aches when you finally see his cock again, a sound of need leaving your lips as you eye his length, so big that pleasure ripples through you, especially when you see his gushy tip, glistening with pre-cum. 
You want every fucking inch inside of you, and Eddie’s more than ready to oblige, “What do you need, baby? Tell me.”
“Need you, Eddie,” you moan, all fucked out, his fingers slip in and out of you still, but it isn’t enough for him. He needs more, he craves your validation like he never has before. 
“God, you’re soakin’ my fingers, princess,” he grunts, wedging himself between your thighs, weeping cock drips onto your inner thighs, making you moan breathlessly. “Tell me exactly what you fuckin’ want, honey.”
“Eddie.” His name sounds like silk, even when it’s so lewd, Eddie decides, and it makes him let out an impatient huff. “P—please. Need you to fuck me.” It’s so goddamn desperate that you can feel heat rise to your cheeks, but it’s everything to him.
“Want you to fuck me like you mean it.”
“Oh, that’s easy, sweetheart,” he grunts, lining his cock through your entrance, coating himself in your slick, enjoying your mewls before he doesn’t hesitate to push his cock inside of you, inch by inch, relishing the way you cry out for him. 
Greedily, you rock your hips into him, making him let out a frustrated groan. “Have no fuckin’ idea how much I missed this greedy cunt, sweetheart, shit.” He thrusts in a few more inches, and breathless moans and babbles of his name fill the air.
“Suckin’ me right in, baby, fuck, you’re so pretty like this, mhmm.” His cock moves inside of you, and your hands are wrapped around his back, desperately clawing at it, the fullness making you want more, “you like that, baby, like bein’ full of me?” A heavy sound leaves his lips, pathetic and you pulse around him. 
“S’so good Eddie, and s’big,” you barely manage to let out, and he watches you with that burning amber gaze, thrusting all the way in without hesitation. Those plushy lips that hang open, that filthy mouth, the prettiest fucking features—you, were going to be the death of him. 
Maybe it’s because you had missed him, or maybe because you hadn’t experienced this in a long time, or fuck, maybe, just maybe that the song had created a new type of need between the two of you. Using sex as a sort of connection that the both of you desperately needed. But, shit, was it this different this time. 
He felt different—his lips, touch, skin as it slapped against yours, it was different. 
Full. You feel so fucking full that your back involuntarily arches against him, fingers clenching desperately, your screams and cries filling the room the more he plunges inside of you, deeper, hungry, and just as greedy as you. 
“Yeah, better than that asshole?” It rolls off his lips so bitter and jealous that you can barely register it. Not being used to this possessive side of him, and it’s glorious, especially when he’s pounding his frustrations and insecurities into you. 
“Mhmm, so much better.” You clawed at his back, every thrust of his hip making you feel higher and higher, mind filled with nothing but him. 
“So pretty like this when you say my name, sweetheart… so goddamn beautiful, and all mine, yea?” He wants a confirmation, and wants to hear you say it, his head ducking between your breasts again to kiss, taste, suckle them. Make sure he never forgets it. 
“Wanna hear you say it.” He hums, the vibrations reverberating through your chest straight into your core, cock plowed so deep inside of you that you can barely speak through your cries, hitting that sweet spot that every other asshole misses. 
You’re too scared to give him what he wants. But you feel him, everywhere, and you still want more, of course, you’re his. That’s all you fucking wanted anyway. Plushy lips shake as you gaze up at him, his amber hues are so sticky-sweet that you still struggle to process it, words come out in a ramble “All yours, Eddie.”
His mouth crashes onto yours roughly, desire coursing through both of your bodies, almost interconnected. “Shit, fuckin’ hell sweetheart, ‘m not gonna last long.” His thrusts are getting sloppier, yet you feel the ravaging desire coursing through your veins. 
“So perfect,” he murmurs, the kiss he lays on your lips just as relentless, not letting you breathe or think for a goddamn second, you’re so goddamn close.
And you wonder, how the fuck did you even go two months without this? Without him?
“Eddie!” You cry out once you feel the pad of his thumb rubbing against your clit, eyes squeezed shut as your orgasm washes over you. Pure bliss overtakes you while you claw at his back, his body tenses, and cock flexes as he cums inside of you, groans and curses left in your hair. 
Minutes pass of you lying next to each other, breathless, processing everything that just transpired. And you should feel guilty, embarrassed, and should run to the hills for doing this with him again. 
But you’re obsessed, addicted. He’s like an excitement that you’re sure you’ve never felt before, running through your veins, like a fucking drug. 
Both of you get dressed in silence, the party booming outside is quick to bring the two of you back to reality, and out of the trance that he pulled you in. 
He breaks your bewilderment with a slight “Fuck.” Standing on the opposite side of the bed before he fully turns to you. “This wasn’t—I was supposed to talk to you.” He mutters, fingertips anxiously running through his tousled hair.
Caught off guard and awfully curious, you mumble, “About what?”
“The song…”
“I told you I liked it.”
His brow furrows deeper, and he shakes his head in frustration. “No, that’s not it—uh, did you not listen to the lyrics?”
“I did.”
“And?”
Your face searches his for some clarity, you take a step closer to him, the distance between the two of you was still awfully much according to him. “What are you asking of me, Eddie? Did you really think one song would just solve everything?”
“You don’t get it, do you?”
“W—what am I supposed to get Eddie? You wanna have your cake and eat it too! And I just can’t fucking do that, not anymore.”
“That’s—that’s not it!” His voice wavers, with urgency, and desperation in his tone. He takes a step forward, attempting to bridge the emotional gap, feeling so fucking frustrated that he wants to rip his hair out.
“Then fucking explain it to me!” You plead. 
“You want an explanation, fine! Fucking fine!” His frustration echoed through the room, pacing back and forth, making you take a deep breath. 
Was he… actually gonna do this? 
“You wanna know what the fuck I’ve been doing ever since you ghosted me?” He ran a hand through his hair, scared, gaze all mellow and vulnerable in a way you have never seen before. It makes your shoulders slump when you nod. 
“I go to those stupid Hollywood parties, meet asshole rockstars—the most interesting shit, yet somehow someway the thought of you will pop up in my mind, uncalled for, might I add, and then I can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop thinking about you the whole fucking day.” Your eyes widen, trying to absorb his revelation, yet he won’t stop rambling and you feel your chest tighten with each word, fuck, he’s finally doing it.
“I—I never—shit! I never thought myself capable of feeling things like this, but fuck, you came along, with that goddamn smile, throwing a manicured middle finger right in my face, a—and just put up with my bullshit.” His voice softened, and he couldn’t help but trace the contours of your face, to desperately know if you were on the same boat, and you look at him with such glistened eyes that his heart leaps to his stomach. 
“My world flipped upside down, and you have proven me, so goddamn wrong that I don’t even know who the fuck I am anymore!” The tears almost welled in your eyes, because, fuck, there was no way this was real.  
You reached out instinctively, the corner of your mouth twitching uncontrollably. “E—Eddie, please… please stop saying things you don’t fucking mean.” 
“Things I don’t mean?” He gives you a breathy chuckle, ironic, and nowhere near funny. His eyes bore into yours, intense and searching. “Do you think I like feeling whatever the hell this is? I fucking don’t, you have me acting like someone I’m so unfamiliar with, to the point where it scares me. All I can think about is you, you, you, because you occupy every single space of my mind.” Your eyes soften, the room seemingly pulsing with his emotions, making you feel hot everywhere on your body. 
He felt the same way.
Eddie felt the same way. 
“B—but fuck I’m scared, honey, I’m so goddamn scared,” He admits, the vulnerability in his voice cutting through the tension before he’s at your side, calloused hands grabbing you by the shoulder, so softly that you melt into him.
“Because what if—what if all of this comes crashing down one day?” His voice trembles, gaze avoiding yours, he was scared, so goddamn scared of losing you. Forever. He doesn’t want that, he couldn’t afford that. 
“Just two months away from you fucking sucked. I didn’t—I don’t wanna feel these things, but you make it so hard not to.”  His forehead rests against yours, making you suck in a deep breath, it’s all so fucking sentimental, and all you wanna do this kiss him, tell him you feel the exact same way. Tell him about your fears. 
“And now I can’t fucking stop, fuck,” He confesses, admission punctuated by a frustrated sigh. 
“I wrote you a song,” he gently caresses your cheek, and you’re so scared to look up at him, to meet his tender gaze, because you know you can’t hold yourself back. 
“I came over to this party in a frenzy when I found out you’d be here,” he continued, his fingers tracing a delicate pattern along your jawline. “I—I just I haven’t even been able to touch another girl.” Your eyes snap open, you’re sure they’re almost heart-shaped now, with the adoration you look at him.
“And, do you actually fucking think I'd write songs for just anyone—” His question lingers in the air before you shut him up with a kiss, rough, sweet, and making Eddie feel dizzy all over, his head struggles to comprehend it all, breathless but he manages to react just in time.
The booming music becoming a mere background noise when he had you, mind swirling with all the possibilities and mouth begging to never stop tasting you. He wants to let you completely engulf him, feel you everywhere.
Everything he wanted and more.
He fucking hates himself for doing this, but he pulls away, mesmerized, eyes so wide that you can’t believe this is Eddie, he’s all flustered, salmon pink. And it makes a wider grin sit on your lips. “So… you—uh, what does this mean?”
You smile at him, lips widely stretching into a grin, as you shrug. “It means I feel the same, Eddie.” you admit, tone a tender reassurance. “That’s why I tried to shut you out… to try to move on, because I was scared—fuck, but I feel the same way.”
“So, does that mean we're dating now?”
“We can take things slow, figure everything out?” you mutter with a shy gaze, lips itching to twitch into a smile, again. “But I—uh—I like you, I really, really like you.”
“Gone soft on me already, sweetheart?” he mumbles with a stupid grin, making you elbow him softly, with an exaggerated playful huff. 
He’s quick to flinch, rubbing his arm as if you even delivered a powerful blow. “Ow—what the hell is wrong with you?”
“You think I’m going soft? You’re the one who wrote his feelings as an exaggerated love song!” 
He leans further slightly, his grin widening when you gave him those adorable eyes, finding you both equally amusing and endearing. “Oh… just you wait.”
You arched a brow, curiosity piqued, “What the hell does that mean?”
“The album is coming out soon, sweetheart. If you think this was an exaggeration, you should hear the whole fucking thing.”
That glint re-appears in your eyes just as quickly, gaze softening as you melt into his embrace.
“You’re an idiot, Eddie Munson.” You tease, scrunching your nose at him, so adorably that he leans down and presses a gentle kiss onto your hair.
He's an idiot, a total complete fucking idiot, but he's all yours.
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kingkatsuki · 4 months ago
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I’m not entirely certain I’m the best person to be writing for Suo, but one of my favourite people @m-ete0ra is in love with him so I had to try.
It shouldn’t have been this easy to gain the trust of the notorious Bofurin, but you’d practically been welcomed with open arms. But Suo Hayato had always been far more skeptical than the rest of his friends, and he was determined to reveal your true intentions.
Pairings: Suo Hayato x f!reader.
Warnings: 18+, dubcon, mean!Suo (but honestly he’s borderline obsessed/possessive/jealous of you), reader is hinted to be part of a rival gang, Suo restrains you, marking, nipple play, public sex, praise, degradation, forced creampie.
Word Count: 4.4k.
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“We’ve got to stop meeting like this, my love.” You froze in your tracks when you heard Suo’s charming voice sound from behind you, shoving your hands into the pockets of your open hoodie as you turned to face him with a glare.
“Well if you’d stop following me, we would.” You cocked a hip out as he took a step closer, the same coy smile on his face as though he was greeting an old friend, “And stop calling me that.”
It was a dangerous game of cat and mouse that you both played, and it was certain that no matter where you were in Makochi Suo wouldn’t be far behind. Always a man who kept his cards close to his chest, never ever revealing his hand as he left you trying to decipher his next move.
“Don’t act like you give me a choice.” There was a dangerous undertone to his voice that betrayed the innocent smile that graced his face, his eye darkening as he took another step closer. The leather eyepatch he wore made him seem even more intimidating as he glared across at you, serving as a further intimidation tactic as he silently challenged you to run.
“There’s always a choice.” You shook your head, crossing your arms across your chest as you noticed his brows furrow. A dangerous air surrounded him, as though one wrong move would leave you backed into a corner and unable to fight.
“Not when you’re on Furin ground.” There was a menacing gleam behind his eye that had the unfamiliar sensation of fear blooming inside you.
“Your friends didn’t seem to mind much.” You gave him a sly smile as you remembered how kindly Umemiya had welcomed you, as though you were a sweet inconspicous lamb that needed protection from all the hungry wolves in the world, “I think they quite enjoy having me around.”
“You might have them falling for this cute and innocent act, but not me.” You could hear the warning tone in his voice as you felt your knees quiver, “I can see right through you.”
“Oh?” You hummed, smiling softly as you shifted from toe to toe, “Like the act that you put on too? Don’t tell me that you’ve got every one of your friends falling for it.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.” Suo gave you the same closed-mouth smile that he gave all his friends that oozed faux sincerity, but it was the subtlest lock of his jaw that gave him away.
“Yeah, sure you don’t.” You rolled your eyes as you turned to leave, “I wonder what they’d do if they found out about the real you.”
“Don’t walk away from me.” Suo reached out to grab your arm and you felt a surge of electricity conduct through you, pulsing through your veins as he kept his grip gentle but firm as he stopped you from leaving so soon.
“Don’t touch me.” You shot back while attempting to tug your arm out of his grip, but Suo was stronger. His hold tightened as you felt his nimble fingers squeeze your arm, blunt nails dug into the supple flesh as you gasped in a mixture of pain and surprise as he twisted your arm behind your back with trained precision. 
He always seemed to manage to back you into a corner, like a skittish doe who would startle at the faintest sound. Anticipating your next move so that he could ensure he was three steps ahead to stop you in your tracks, indulging in the thrill of the chase. 
“Get off me, Suo.” You moved to kick him, and one of your heavy boots managed to make contact with his calf but Suo was more instantaneous. Using his grip on your arm to pin your chest to the wall, his other hand pressed directly to the side of your neck against your pressure point. 
The impact spot that could kill.
“I don’t think you’re really in any position to be giving me orders,” Suo shook his head before letting his fingers stroke along the column of your throat, his lips pressed against the shell of your ear as his tassel earrings tickled your shoulder, “Especially when you seem to know what I’m capable of.”
You’d made a promise to yourself that you’d never run from a fight, especially not with a man from Bofurin. But the harsh grip that Suo maintained against you was almost frightening, as you instinctively began to struggle against him. You’d managed to weave your way into the inner rankings of Furin, befriending Umemiya and Sakura as though you were just another damsel in the town that needed to be protected, that needed a knight in shining armour. A role that they were far too happy to take on–
But Suo seemed to be the only one to see through the sweet, innocent role you’d tried to play in front of others. Perhaps, because he was also acting himself— trying to maintain a persona that was nothing like the real him, and in this game of cat and mouse it would come down to whoever was caged first. 
“Let go of me,” You growled, trying once more to struggle against his grip as you pressed your chest against the wall to give yourself more power as you pushed back against his firm body, “Now.”
“Ah, don’t be like that,” Suo cooed against your ear as you felt his teeth graze your helix, “I seem to recall you quite enjoyed being in this position.”
Your mind immediately went back to the nights he’d spent above you, watching those same tassel earrings swing as he fucked into you. And now you were standing in front of him like this, you wondered if that had all been part of his act too.  
“That was before I knew what a dick you were.” You sneered. 
“How vulgar,” He chuckled, a delicate rasp to his tone as he eased his hips forward to press against your lower back. Feeling the evident bulge beneath his pants as you found yourself increasing the pressure against it on pure instinct, “I think you’re getting me confused with someone else, sweet girl.”
His hand began to stroke against your hip as he followed the curve of your side up towards your chest, his lips now pressing scorching, open-mouthed kisses against the apex of your neck as his fingers settled beneath the swell of your breasts, “Because I seem to recall you rather enjoy my dick.”
Suo rut his hips forward, letting you feel his desire for you as he pressed your chest harder against the cold brick wall. Your cheek grazed against the surface as he kept you pinned beneath him, the musky scent of bergamot and sandalwood invaded your senses and made it difficult to breathe. 
“Is that why you’re not even trying to fight back?” Suo continued, deft fingers slipping beneath the hem of your shirt to press skin against skin. Leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake as he pushed the fabric of your top up around your chest, “I know you’ve got more bite than that.”
He had you feeling vulnerable, and not just because of your precarious position. Suo had taken the time to study you since your time at Furin, to try to discover more about you and the reasons that you had ended up on their turf. While everyone else had let their guard down around you, Suo had kept his up. Maintaining a facade of pleasantries while he sought to discover everything about you, keeping his friends close and his enemies closer–
“Shut up,” You growled, struggling in his arms as you moved one of your legs to try and hook behind his knee to take him down. A move that seemed to delight Suo as he chuckled darkly behind you, taking the opportunity to shove one of his thighs between your legs as he pressed the flat of it against your clothed sex.
“I always did love how feisty you are,” Suo pressed a kiss against your pulse point before biting down hard, pulling a desperate whine from your throat as you instinctively ground yourself down on his thigh. His tongue slipped out to salve the mark he’d left on your skin as he pulled back to admire his work, pressing a lingering kiss to the bruise as his cock twitched with satisfaction.
In his mind, you’d always be his.
Suo kept your arm secure behind your body as he reached forward to palm one of your breasts, massaging it through the sheer fabric of your bra before pulling the cups down to watch them spill out for him. The thought that anyone could walk by and see you in such a debauched state had your clit throbbing beneath your panties as you continued to chase the desire for friction as you ground yourself against him.
“The marks I left on these are almost gone,” He murmured, “I’ll have to give you fresh ones.”
His fingers were rough as they massaged your naked breasts, pinching your nipples between his thumb and forefinger as he felt them stiffen beneath his touch. Rolling and twisting them as he pulled more pretty sounds from the back of your throat, salving his tongue against the darkened mark he’d left on the column of your neck as he felt the pretty sounds vibrate against your skin.
“It’s quite amusing how turned on you get just from me playing with your nipples,” He groped your breast for emphasis as you mewled at his touch, “Bet I could make you cum from this alone, hm?”
You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of an answer as you tried to push back against him, the rough brick grazing your skin as you tried once again to struggle out of his grip or at the very least turn yourself to face him. But it was futile – Suo had you completely at his mercy.
“I don’t know why you keep fighting it,” Suo pressed, moving to give your other breast the same attention as he pressed his knee against the wall so that your body was practically held up by the flat of his thigh against your covered cunt, “When you make it so obvious that you’re enjoying every part of this.”
Your body betrayed you as you leaned into his touch, practically mewling when his fingers tugged and teased your pert nipples with honed practice. Arching your back to give him better access he pressed a trail of kisses along the exposed skin of your neck, swiping his tongue against your pulsepoint.
“Do you forget how many times I’ve made you cum, sweet girl?” He laughed, low and throaty as his hand ventured lower, “How many times you’ve creamed my cock?”
“The same number of times I could’ve made myself cum.” You spat back, struggling again as Suo shook his head.
“You’re doing everything you can to be defiant,” Suo pressed a lingering kiss to the side of your cheek as his hand smoothed along your tummy, slipping beneath the hem of your skirt to cup your crotch. Feeling the soaked fabric of your panties beneath his touch as his lips curled into a smug grin against your skin, “But at least your body is honest, isn’t she?”
“No.” You groaned, lashes fluttering as you felt Suo begin to press his fingers against your neglected clit through the thin layer of fabric, circling the sensitive nub as you writhed against him.
“No?” He tugged the material to the side roughly, feeling it dig into your skin as he exposed your slit, “Then why are you dripping all over my thigh?”
Suo’s fingers dipped into the seam of your cunt, collecting your slick against them as he pressed against your tight entrance. Feeling the way your body reacted to him your inner walls fluttered around the calloused pads, desperately trying to coax him deeper as he let out a soft groan against your cheek. Gathering more of your slick as he dragged it through your sloppy folds and pressed two fingers against your needy clit, rubbing slow persistent circles against it that had you crying out for him. His palm splayed against your pelvis, increasing the pressure as he nuzzled your cheek. Every saccharine sound he pulled from your throat had his cock throbbing beneath his pants as he imagined burying himself inside you and filling you with his spend. 
“If you weren’t so much of a brat we could’ve done this privately,” He continued talking as he circled your clit, “Instead you’d rather I have you spread out like a whore for anyone to see.”
You were far too acutely aware of your position, pressed against a dirty wall in a throughway in town. Dangerously close to the cafe that most of Furin liked to frequent, a sure sign that anyone could walk by and catch you in such a precarious position. Your skirt bunched up around your hips and your tits out for anyone to witness, a thought that only seemed to heighten the pleasure that rippled through you.
“Perhaps that’s what you want though, isn’t it?” Suo’s voice did nothing to alleviate the tension between your thighs as you felt yourself hurtling towards your climax, your toes curling inside your heavy boots as you teetered on the cusp of release, “For everyone to see that you’re a whore for Furin.”
The sinful husk of his voice had your cunt clenching around nothing as you let out a desperate whine, your body reacting to his touch as you felt your orgasm surge through you as you came hard.
“That’s it,” He cooed gently, “Just like that.”
He kept his fingers persistent against your clit as he trapped your body against the wall, his grip bruising against your arm whilst watching intently as you rode out your climax. Suo always seemed to know your body better than yourself as you lay your cheek against the wall. Allowing him to lean forward and capture your pouty lips in a languid clash of tongues and teeth, swallowing your moans in his throat as he moved his fingers lower towards your tight entrance to feel your walls trembling in the aftershocks of your orgasm as they clenched at the intrusion.
“Doesn’t it feel much better to be obedient?” Suo grinned against your lips as your brows furrowed in a tired frown, feeling you begin to struggle against him again, “Ah, don’t be like that– you know I’m right.”
Suo shuffled behind you as he pulled his pants down just enough to free his throbbing cock, fisting himself at the base as he pressed the drooling tip against your slick folds. Stroking himself through the mess between your thighs as he coated himself in your slick, the swollen tip nudging your tight entrance with each steady rut that had you instinctively pushing back into him. 
“You know something that I’ve learned about people who try to be deceptive,” Suo murmured as pulled back to see the euphoric desperation on your face as you shamelessly ground yourself back against him, his mahogany eye focused on the way your thick lashes fluttered as your eyes rolled back into your skull at his touch, “They can never deny the bodies instinctive desire to seek pleasure.”
You gasped when you felt Suo line himself up with your tight hole and snap his hips forward in one quick thrust, feeling the dull ache of the stretch surround you as he bottomed out inside you. Stealing the air from your lungs you choked back a debauched whimper as he pulled back enough to watch you completely lose yourself to the pleasure. He remained still inside you as he cherished the sensation of your walls clamping down around him, his lips curling into a sly smile when he felt your feeble attempt to fuck yourself on his cock. 
“So are you going to blame your body for this reaction?” He murmured as his lips hovered inches from your face, “Or are you going to admit that you like me using you like this?”
“Fuck.” You felt lightheaded as you leaned your temple against the wall, trying to stop your legs from giving out as Suo slowly began to unsheath his cock from your velvety walls. Immediately despising the empty sensation as he moved until only the tip was still buried inside your wet heat, smoothing his hand along the curve of your ass as he glanced down at the length of his cock completely coated in your slick already. 
“Tell me.” He persisted as you whined, your free hand reaching around to try and grab his cock but Suo’s reflexes were faster as he held both your arms behind your back now. Grasping your wrists in one large palm as he tutted, “Why do you find it so difficult being good for me?”
“Suo.” You choked back a sob that threatened to wreck through your body as the fire inside you blazed like a raging inferno, the scorching heat almost too much as you sought to extinguish it.
“Say it,” He pressed, reaching around to knead your breast roughly between his fingers, “Say the word and I’ll give you everything.”
You didn’t want him to think he had won– especially not this kind of victory. Your body begged for relief but your mind tried to fight through the salacious haze that shrouded it, you couldn’t deny the way you felt for him. The irrefutable ache that lingered inside you at the thought of having him, of keeping him.
“She missed me didn’t she?” He continues, watching you eagerly grind yourself against him, leaving messy glistening lines of slick against his pants as you seek out the delicious friction, “Look at the way she’s grinding against me.”
“Oh my god,” You whimpered, “Please.”
The continuous throb that pulsed in your core felt almost unbearable as you willed something, anything to soothe the ache. Unable to close your legs to try and satiate yourself with Suo’s muscular thigh trapped between them as you tried to rock your hips to give yourself even the slightest ounce of friction to help quell the incessant desire that emanated inside you.
“What was that?” He hummed, “I’m not quite sure I heard you–”
You hated how he knew exactly how to push your buttons, deliberately trying to garner a reaction from you as you could feel the satisfaction seeping through his sickly sweet undertone. Suo knew exactly what he was doing to you right now, and how much your body craved him.
He just wanted to hear you say it– to submit to him so he could claim another useless victory over you.
But to him, this victory was far from useless.
“Hayato, please–” You choked back a sob, “Please fuck me.”
“That’s what I thought.” He didn’t even give you a moment to respond before he was forcing his hips forward and burying his cock back inside your tight hole, starting a brutal pace that had you pressed against the wall. Fucking into your pliant body as he set a steady pace, the slap of skin against skin echoed around the alleyway, positive that it could raise enough attention to have anyone in the vicinity investigating the sound. 
“I don’t know why you insist on being insubordinate,” Suo growled against your neck, “When I know you’re fully aware that no one else will ever make you feel this good.”
Your tight cunt always took him so well, clenching around him as he fucked you back into the shape of him. Pulling more desperate whines from your throat as he used his grip on your wrists for leverage, forcing you back on his cock as he buried himself deep inside your walls. The blunt tip of his cock speared against every inch of you as he carved a path towards your cervix, bruising it with each thrust as he felt your entire body quiver from the force of his movements. 
“Do you think Sakura could fuck you this well?” He murmured, a stark contrast to his brash movements, “You think he would make you feel this good?”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” It was the only word you could manage as it left your lips in a dull mantra as if reciting gospel as Suo continued his rough pace. Trying in vain to roll your hips back against his in a feeble attempt to match his thrusts as he moved his fingers lower, pressing them against your clit to rub sloppy circles against it. Trying to get you to come undone before he reached his peak, already shamefully close to his own end with the way your body reacted to him. His balls were already tight and heavy with cum as he began to think about filling you up with his spend and watching it leak from your abused hole that he had fucked into the shape of his cock.
“You know deep down that no one will make you feel this good.” Suo threw his head back in a duplicitous laugh.
And he was right. No matter how many times you rubbed your clit raw or fingered yourself to a pitiful climax, it would never compare to the way Suo’s cock felt inside you. The way his body felt against yours as you found yourself leaning into him, seeking out the warmth of him pressed against you it willed your mind to give into the pleasure. 
“Come on, pretty girl.” He whispered against your cheek, the tassels from his earrings swinging from each rough thrust as they tickled your skin, “I know you want to cum.”
“You may think you can lie to me,” He chuckled darkly, pressing down on your pelvis as you felt everything become tighter as you let out a debauched whimper, “But your body always gives you away.”
You didn’t want Suo to feel like he had won, although you were almost certain that he already did.
“I know you’re close,” He teased, letting his fingers continue a trail to where your bodies were connected to press precise figure of eights into your puffy clit, “Come on, just let it happen.”
You tried to stop yourself from obeying his commands, trying to ignore the way your clit throbbed from the dark timber of his command. Your teeth gnawed your bottom lip to try and stop yourself from moaning out loud as he persisted.
“I want to feel you cream my cock.” He kept his rough pace as the added pressure to your clit had your cunt pulsing around him, his cock hitting that same spot inside you with each forward rut of his hips had your climax surging through you in harsh waves, the coil inside you snapping harshly as you came undone with a debauched cry of his name.
“That’s it,” Suo practically cheered, “I knew you’d give it to me– good girl.”
Suo let go of your arms, and the shift in position almost had your face slamming into the brick wall, barely managing to press your palms against the rough surface before his hand was weaving around your throat to pull you back against him. Using your body for his pleasure he kept thrusting into your pulsing walls as he pulled you into a sloppy kiss, his tongue sweeping across your lips to taste the artificial strawberry that glossed your lips.
“I’m gonna–” Suo groaned, his fingers digging into your hips almost painfully. You braced your hands on the wall to prevent yourself from falling to the ground as his heavy balls slapped against your clit. The rough brick scratched your palms as you fought to keep your balance, your head lolled and your chin knocked against your clavicle. 
“Not inside.” You gasped.
“Ah, but who am I to deny her what she wants–” Suo grinned, using his grip on your ass to slam you onto his cock as he lingered on the edge of his bliss, “I can feel her squeezing me.”
Your greedy cunt clamped down around him in an attempt to milk him of his own release as he moaned against your lips, his tongue brushing against your teeth as he followed you into bliss with a final harsh cant of his hips. Spilling ropes of warm cum inside your quivering walls as he coated them with his release, giving a few more messy rolls of his hips to ride out his pleasure as he fucked his cum deeper inside you, smearing it against your cervix.
“I don’t know why you always insist on fighting it,” Suo cradled your body as you both came down from euphoria, his fingers pressing into the indents he’d left against your wrists as he held your arms behind your back. Gazing up at him through half-lidded eyes as you tried to blink back the pearly tears that clumped in your lashes, feeling his cock begin to soften inside you as you whined when he pulled out, “When you know you will always be mine.”
His eye immediately shifted to the mess he’d left between your thighs as he pulled your panties back into place, patting your covered crotch gently as your fluttering walls continued to push more of his cum out of your hole and onto the ruined fabric. 
“Now,” Suo’s hand was rough around your neck as he held your back against his chest, his grip the only thing preventing you from falling to the ground on shaky legs, “You’re going to tell me exactly what you’re looking for with Sakura.”
“What makes you think I’m looking for anything to do with him?” You feigned innocence, which only had Suo’s palm tightening around your throat.
“I thought we’d been over this,” He heaved a sigh against your cheek as he shook his head, “And you were going to tell the truth.”
You could feel him stealing the oxygen from your lungs as his fingers flexed around your throat threateningly.
“It isn’t wise to play these games with me, pretty girl,” He cooed against your ear, “All I want is to protect Furin, and you should already know–”
His voice darkened as he exerted more pressure against the same specific point in your neck, your eyelids starting to feel heavy as you felt your body start to become lax in his grip.
“I’d do anything to protect it.”
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ybklix · 3 months ago
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★ pairing: bf seo changbin x fem!reader
✦summary: The hot idea of your body over your boyfriend's body has been keeping you restless lately and you're just dying to tell him.
♡ genre - warnings: smut, oral sex, fingering, 69 obvs lol, pet names
word count: 996
⭒˚.⋆ masterlist - taglist
a/n: hbd binnie, my ariana girly pop!♡ not proofread btw, finally a drabble, i learned how stfu
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Changbin looked so fucking good on that particular night, where it was supposed to be quiet and cute, watching movies together; however there were absolutely no cute thoughts in your mind just now, you were weak, hungry for him to take you and make you shake, you wanted to have sex with him and suddenly you couldn't find the exact words to tell him that you've been thinking a lot lately about eating each other.
“Hey, baby, are you out of M&M's with peanuts?” he asked, tenderly and carefree without the slightest idea that you were restless.
You were incredibly excited for no apparent reason, that was simply your nature, you wanted your boyfriend, you needed him and hoped he could return your energy. You moved dangerously close to him, with a huge smile on your face and sparkling eyes.
“Let's do something more fun, Bin.”
He looked at you in confusion not picking up on how immensely horny you were.
“More fun than watching a movie?” he raised an eyebrow, “What do you have in mind, princess?”
Your smile widened, if only he could know what you had in mind. You gave him a quick peck kiss, taking the courage to say:
“I don't know, you can eat me…” you stammered embarrassed.
“Honey, what?”
“Eat my pussy” you said seriously and then let out a giggle, infecting your boyfriend.
Changbin grabbed your waist, “Aw, I see, so that's what you want huh?”
You nodded energetically, Changbin said again, getting into the hot mood, whispering to you, “Then get your sweet pussy ready for me.”
Your body filled with excitement, still that wasn't all.
“Mmm… we can make it more fun” he raised his eyebrow again as he listened to you, “I can also suck you while you… you know, put my body on top of yours…”
Changbin licked his lips and looked at you closely, “Ah, my dear, a 69, right?”
You didn't answer, just nodded and smiled at your boyfriend's sweetness and accessibility.
“Then let's do as the princess asks.”
Changbin moved his lips closer to you, squeezing your body as he pulled it closer to his, his kisses were tender and sonorous at first, then turning intense and desperate. You were so turned on, you were like this even before you saw Changbin, fantasizing about him over and over again because simply, sex with your boyfriend was wonderful.
“Let's go to your room” he whispered to you, his lips pressed to your ear with his breath hitching.
As you entered you couldn't stand it any longer and stripped off all your clothes with absolutely no shame, Changbin watched you in fascination, almost sighing a woah at your speed and desperation, feeding his ego as he recognized that you really were turned on and needed him to service you. Changbin did the same, stripping off all his clothes to leave his smooth, exercised body, with his notoriously erect cock in the air.
“Come here, beautiful,” he said to you, happy as he lay down on your bed, “Put your pretty pussy on my face and suck my cock just like you said.”
His natural boldness and dirty words made you shudder and, without any shyness, you moved closer to your boyfriend's body, positioning your pussy on his face, on top of him while you could take care of him.
Changbin grunted at the sight of your pussy so ready for him, you were already wet and your center was begging for attention and before he could even stroke you or say anything, you were quick, jerking his thick cock and introducing his length to your mouth, making him moan in surprise, you needed him badly and didn't want to wait.
“Mmm fuck baby, you're fucking already sucking me off, enjoying my cock, huh?” Changbin spanked you and tried to sound natural but you were taking his cock so well he even almost lost track, “Fuck, princess, you're doing it great” he babbled, “Let me do the same for you, I'll make you feel so good.”
He held your lower back and brought your pussy close to his face, taking it fully into his mouth, surprising and satisfying you so much that you had to stop his tonguing on his cock to take a moment and enjoy your boyfriend's warm tongue on your vulva.
Panting, happy, squealing as no one could touch you as specially as Changbin does, you thought 69 would be easy, but you were enjoying to the fullest his mouth sucking your labia and rubbing his tongue all over your cunt, weakening you and making you unable to concentrate, yet you gave your best to give your boyfriend what to receive as well.
His hard, marked abdomen felt so well compressed into yours, everything about him was a dream, Changbin was so devoted to pleasing you by eating your pussy, tasting every part of you until he made you tremble. His hand began to tease your pussy and soon you felt his fingers in you. You sighed, taking his cock, pulling on it and licking every part of his pulsating sex. You were both in each other's flavored paradise, finally one of your fantasies realized and you knew that with Changbin once you started, he was strong enough to hold out all night.
Your boyfriend continued to penetrate your entrance with his digits, licking strategic points of you until you climaxed after a loud moan. You knew he wouldn't take long to cum either, so you tenderly continued to masturbate him, until, after a very vocal moan, a few drops on your face, Changbin finally managed to climax. You loved the sight of his sensitive cock spilling every drop of his white cum, so you took it upon yourself to collect his cum with your tongue, licking his body in scattered places and along his member where it remained.
Changbin smiled, his glossy lips and chin smeared with you.
“Good girl.”
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puppetmaster13u · 4 months ago
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Prompt 333
I once more believe Battinson Batman needs to be given a child. Or multiple. Multiple children. I am also once more rotating Ghosts Have Wings Au. 
So Batman, still early in his whole vigilante career ends up busting a shipment, nothing too surprising there. Pretty usual honestly. Except for what was in one of the crates already open. Because it looks like some sort of gemstones but… perfectly spherical. Strange. Suspicious. 
But it’s also late, er, early in the morning, and the GCPD is notoriously corrupt, so like, he’s not going to just leave the weird gemstones, each about the size of a plum or so. (Dear Gotham he’s apparently hungry, and might inwardly vow to never let anyone realize what his tired mind decided to use as measurement) 
So he, unknowingly spurred on by more than just a slight bit of ecto contamination, takes the strange spheres back home. Just puts them in his pockets and heads back to the manor that they moved back into after the whole Riddler mess. (He even found a cool cave! With a bunch of terrifying bats, but they made a glass separator! For safety!) 
But in Bruce’s defense of forgetting about them, he’s more than a little tired and hungry and just wants to sleep for a bit, y’know? So maybe he forgets about the gems as he falls asleep in the chair in the cave (Alfred was not pleased!) until he starts digging around for them. Erm. Did they fall out somewhere?? There’s no holes in his belt pockets… 
And maybe these sort of things shouldn’t slip his mind, the spheres had felt Weird with a capital W, but he gets forced to a circus and there’s an… accident. So maybe he pushed it away as not important because there’s now an angry grieving eight-year old living with him and he’s panickedly reading any and all sort of parenting books he can get a hold of because he has no clue what he’s doing. 
Yeah, maybe his back is itching like crazy no matter what he tries, and maybe he threw up the other day, but it’s fine. This is fine. 
….
Oh dear Gotham those are feathers, this is not fine- ALFREEED!
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princessbrunette · 5 months ago
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okay random thought, but ik you mentioned that kitty’s older sister briefly dated barry. so kitty and rafe probably met through barry im assuming? like one day kitty’s and her sister are over at barry’s and rafe walks in and kitty’s probably tryna convince herself he’s just a smug asshole 😒💔
🎀≽^• ⩊ •^≼୧ ‧₊˚
you’d only tagged along to get out the house for a little while, too cooped up — and there’s only so many tarot readings a girl can give herself before she gets bored. the lovers, four of wands — you’re going to meet someone soon! whatever.
your sister is smoking with barry out on the porch and you’re exiting your sisters boyfriends bathroom when you hear a semi-familiar voice. you try and be sneaky about it, something you can usually get away with — notorious for creeping up on people and slinking about undetected, and yet as you casually stroll the kitchen, peering out the patio doors you lock eyes with rafe cameron, stuffing his hands into his pockets. his eyes jump all across you as he attempts to identify you.
barry is rattling off about something to him, complaining about rafe overcharging unnecessarily and shooing off customers when the kook interrupts him, waving a hand as his eyes follow your form through the house, seeing you in that black mini skirt reaching up to get a glass from the cabinet. “yeah, yeah-yeah look shut up a sec. who’s that in the kitchen?” he drawls, and if your sister wasn’t so high she’d have been quicker to snap at him.
“nah, nah you’re not gonna go botherin’ that lil ass girl rafe. you’ here on business, act like it.” barry dismisses, putting his joint out in a half empty beer can and listening to it sizzle. your older sister lifts her head from the couch, frowning in disorientation at the sandy blonde.
“i didn’t say shit, okay — i just wanted to know who she is.” rafe defends irritably, ripping his eyes off you to blink at barry, wiping clammy hands down his shorts. not even a second passes before he asks another question. “how uh— how old is she anyway?”
“old enough for a real man, aka — not you.” your sister pushes her hands into the worn down patio seat and forces herself to her feet. “on that note we’re getting out of here. gonna get food.” she has the decency to alert barry of her plans for once, turning her head to watch you enter the patio with a nearly empty glass in your hand, looking a little wide eyed and curious as you swallow down your drink. you set it on the table, furrowing your eyebrows at barry.
people always thought you were fiesty, but compared to your sister you always seemed pretty meek and inoffensive.
“you finished the joint already?” you huff in a whiny tone, directed mostly towards your sisters boyfriend who lazily shrugs and gestures at your sister — pinning the blame. rafe huffs out an awkward chuckle, making his presence known and holding a hand out to you to shake.
“hey uh, i don’t think we’ve met — rafe cameron.” he introduces in that rich boy drawl. curiosity gets the better of you, and you slowly reach out to shake his hand only for your sister to smack your wrist away from his.
“c’mon. i’m hungry. don’t waste your time on him.” she rolls her red eyes, swaying her hips as she sashays off the patio somewhat elegantly for someone wearing chunky stompers.
you grab his hand before he can pull it away, muttering something along the lines of “i can shake his hand if i want to.” before rushing off to follow her without a glance behind you. rafe doesn’t miss certain things about you; the way your skirt has ridden up your ass cheeks a little as you bounce away, the slight brattiness in your tone that he couldn’t help but wanna correct, and the way his smirk lingered, only to warrant a long stare from barry.
“whatever you thinkin’ bro i suggest you don’t.”
“shit, i can’t just look at her? m’not doing anything.” rafe smiles simply, going to sit down opposite his friend on the patio seats. something about his tone made barry believe the opposite.
🎀≽^• ⩊ •^≼୧ ‧₊˚
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spatialwave · 5 months ago
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“red lips”
pairing: pre-war cooper howard x fem!reader word count: 3.1k ask: “I have a cooper howard smut request, could you write something where the reader is his makeup artist on a new movie. Theres an Automatic connection they really click and have some sweet sweet sexual tension and after working together for a while during the movie the tension keeps growing and they get steamy in the makeup trailer. 🤭” warnings/tags: mdni! smut, porn with plot, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, cheating/affair, cooper praises you. notes: this was SOOO fun, thanks for the ask!! i promise i’ll write some more ghoul fics, but just getting through my asks first and they’re predominantly pw!cooper <3 (also i love cooper calling reader angel for some reason, it’s so cute 😭)
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“good morning,” you chirped, far too perky and bubbly for it being six o’clock in the morning.
you’d been working as a makeup artist for two years now, starting off as an assistant on television shows before scoring larger gigs. this was your first big break working in film, hired on the set of ‘The Man from Deadhorse’, starring none other than cooper howard; the biggest name in hollywood.
it just so happened that they hired you to be his makeup artist.
you were giddy, nervous and trying your best to not allow imposter syndrome to ruin your opportunity.
there were a handful of other makeup artists in the trailer, setting up their stations for the morning, allowing plenty of time to pretty up the actors before their call time. you’d chatted amongst each other, mostly other women, and sharing your excitement about working on a blockbuster film.
you’d been so caught up sharing a story about your latest television gig, you hadn’t noticed cooper howard leaning in the door frame of the trailer—patiently waiting. you’d only been made aware after one of the other girls motioned, smiling politely as they continued prepping for the day.
“sorry,” you gasped, hit with a sudden wave of nervousness as you looked at your station that was ready and waiting. you, on the other hand, wasn’t as prepared, “feel free to take a seat, mr. howard, i’ll just be a second,” you rambled, fingers shaking. you couldn’t remember the last time you were starstruck on set.
“take your time,” the man hummed, his voice just as magnetic as it was on the big screen. you heard his footsteps behind you, the sound of the chair creaking as his weight pushed down on it.
you remembered the voice of the makeup department head, who you had met with in the morning to go over the day’s look with cooper. nothing out of the ordinary: cover-ups of tired eyes, blemishes, and repeated touch ups during the day. lighting on sets were notorious for melting away concealers and foundations, so you were to always be one shout away for mid-scene fixes.
one more deep breath and you willed yourself ready, spinning around and taking a good look at the older actor.
“i promise i’m usually more prepared than this,” you smiled, your voice as sweet as honey. you hadn’t the slightest clue of how much that affected the older actor, shifting in his seat.
“no, no, don’t apologize. maybe i’ll show up a few minutes late tomorrow, and we’ll call it even.” he flashed a toothy grin, his charisma reeling you in like a hungry fish.
you two had hit it off well. there were many instances in your career where this time of the day was silent, your talent preferring peace and quiet as they prepared for a long, tiring day of shooting. cooper wasn’t like that, he seemed intent on keeping up the chatter until you finished powdering his nose.
“and that’s it,” you beamed, chewing on your bottom lip as you leaned in a bit close, using your thumb to brush an eyelash off of his cheek. strangely, you hadn’t the slightest urge to pull away.
cooper’s eyes had settled into a gaze with your own, the two of you completely silent, but saying plenty with only your eyes. his hazel orbs flickered down to your lips, rouged and plump, sickeningly kissable.
the sexual tension was thick, and your stomach twisted and turned wildly as you imagined him pinning you back against the makeup table and making you squirm and mewl in delight.
your mind only needed a few moments to conjure up a vivid scenario. your skirt pushed up to your hips, legs spread wide as cooper pushed himself deep into your aching arousal. he’d groan each time you purred his name into his ear, your breath hot against his skin and making his cock twitch inside you.
you’d milk him for what he’s worth, pussy so full that it starts to drip out. he’d rub the tip of his hard cock through your folds, gathering his white, hot cum and pushing it back inside you until you were fucked stupid. he’d have you begging for him to finish inside again, panting and whining loudly until you got what you wanted.
cooper’s cum slut—god, you needed to pull yourself together.
you squeezed your thighs, a slickness inside your panties that you didn’t need to deal with this early in the morning, but it was all your fault. you were sick in the head.
stepping back, you cleared your throat and began putting away tools in their spots—your station neatly organized.
“why, thank you, darlin’,” cooper chimed softly, as if he hadn’t just been fucking you with his eyes much like you had, “i’ve never had my makeup done so well that it’s felt like nothin’ on my face. i oughta’ keep you around for all my future films.”
a rosy blush tinted your cheeks and the tips of your ears, the compliment wanting you to scream in joy. there was nothing quite as good as an actor appreciating your craft, especially one that you wouldn’t mind seeing more of.
“well, i suppose i can clear up the next few years if you’d like,” you giggled, chewing on your bottom lip as you watched him leave. just as he was exiting the trailer, he glanced over his shoulder, meeting your gaze and sending you off with a cheeky wink that nearly made your knees give out.
every morning that cooper was scheduled on set, you were there in the makeup trailer at six am, waiting for his arrival thirty minutes later. to your surprise, he started coming in earlier and you wondered if it was because he wanted to be around you more, or just for the sake of being an early bird. he’d bring you a fresh cup of coffee, knowing by heart the way you liked it after asking one time: two sugar and one cream.
the sexual tension continued to blossom, but you two had hid it well for the sake of your jobs, sanity and cooper’s fame. from what you knew, cooper was many things, including a husband, and you didn’t need to get involved. you weren’t so keen on being in the middle of a controversy.
but there was nothing so wrong with flirting, was there?
“good morning,” you smiled, hearing heavy footsteps entering the trailer and soft sound of two coffee mugs being set down.
“mornin’, angel,” the cowboy spoke, his voice low and groggy.
“you look tired,” you mentioned, turning to face the man and seeing dark circles under his eyes, “you know you don’t have to come in so early. everyone else started coming in later too now that call time has been pushed.”
“what? and miss some quality time with my favourite girl?” he flashed a grin, and your cheeks burned red.
“yes, exactly that,” you chuckled, “you need your beauty sleep, mr. howard.”
“stop callin’ me that,” he sighed, sipping on his coffee and letting the caffeine pump through his system, “you’re a friend, you can call me cooper.”
you smiled, keeping it hidden as you took a sip of your coffee and laid out your makeup for the day, “fine, cooper."
he set his coffee down on the small table beside him, pursing his lips as he watched you prep for the day. your back was turned to him and gave him perfect view of your backside, eyes taking in the flowy black dress you wore that was held snug against your waist with a white belt. he could see the shimmer of your nylon, the dress only reaching your knees and leaving much to be desired.
cooper was a faithful man, he always had been, and there was never a time in his life where he would imagine breaking his loyalty until now. as much as he wanted to blame his thoughts of you on troubles in his marriage, it wasn’t true.
he was weak. plain and simple.
“you ready, cooper?” you broke through his thoughts, your red lips pulled into a smile.
“as ready as ever,” he returned a thin-lipped smile, pushing his mind elsewhere once reminding himself that his thoughts were exactly that—only thoughts.
doing his makeup was therapeutic. this early in the morning meant it was just you two, idle chit-chat as you carefully covered any imperfections on his face.
“can you tilt your head back for me?” you asked, the sweet sound of your voice sending the man’s brain into orbit. he followed your words, clearing his throat as he lifted one leg over the other to cover up the erection building underneath his pants.
he hadn’t shared the reasoning for his tiredness with you, having gone to bed late and rather pent-up. his hand underneath the blanket, stroking his cock as his mind was full of images of you, imagining what your body looked like under those dresses and skirts you liked to wear. impractical for long days, but he wouldn’t complain.
his hand around his length wasn’t enough, but he made do. moaning and whimpering your name as he imagined you riding him all night long. your perky breasts bouncing and fingers pressing against his chest as you begged him to fuck you harder and deeper.
a quiet sigh left his lips as you blotted makeup to his under eyes, hiding the tired bags that he’d done to himself for letting his imagination get the best of him.
it was quiet, only the sounds of you softly humming as you focused on your duty at hand.
cooper couldn’t take it anymore.
“do you… have a boyfriend?” cooper asked, swallowing a lump down his throat. he regretted the question, feeling the way you froze. for a man with natural-born charisma, he wasn’t sure how he managed to fumble so awkwardly.
“uh, no,” you answered, voice quiet, “just been focusing on work these days, not a lot of time for relationships when i’m working long hours.”
the question bounced around in your head, trying to clear the thought but there was no use. you were stuck there, staring at the man in awe as you hoped his mind was filled with dirty thoughts like your own.
he grunted in response, shifting in his seat as his eyes fluttered open to meet yours. you paused with your application, pulling your hand back and locking eyes. your faces were only a few inches apart, warm breath mingling together. you inhaled his scent, a mix of cologne, coffee and cigarettes, an addicting smell that you’d rather taste.
cooper read your mind.
“can i kiss you?”
you nodded—you were as weak as him.
cooper’s hand lifted to your neck quickly, pulling you close so he could crash his lips against yours and taste the sweetened coffee creamer on your tongue. the brushes in your hands dropped to the floor and were long forgotten as he tugged you into his lap and took your breath away.
at any moment, someone could waltz into the trailer, but neither of you were thinking rationally. all you wanted was each other after weeks of menial flirting and small talk.
he groaned into your mouth, the sound muffling as his hand caressed your jaw and the other pressed into the small of your back so you were flush against his body. as you straddled him, you felt the bulge in his pants pressing against your heat that had already soaked through your panties and nylon.
“you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do this, sweetheart,” cooper whispered, his lips trailing down your jaw and neck. he inhaled the floral perfume that you wore, a gentle scent that dizzied him as he attacked your skin, “you're such a pretty girl. teasin' me all the time, lookin' so sweet.”
the praises and compliments fed you well, causing you to rub your hips against him with vigorous need.
you were silently begging for more, and you were delighted to find out that cooper howard wanted nothing more than to make sure you were well taken care of.
your legs spread as you sat in his chair, your dress pushed up to your hips but covering most of his face as his tongue flicked against your clit, swollen and throbbing. one of your hands pressed over your mouth, muffling the pleasured sounds from you, the other pulling your dress back so you could see cooper ravaging your cunt.
his eyes peered up into yours, cheeks red while he tongued inside your arousal and calloused hands kept your thighs pushed apart.
“don’t stop,” you whimpered, “just like that. please, cooper, you’re doing so good.”
you kept him going, your words encouraging him as he sucked at your bundle of nerves and filled you with two fingers. he worked you well, scissoring his fingers and bending them so they could rub along the muscle of your g-spot. it erupted you into a fit of pouty moans, his skillful movements making you reach your climax quicker than any of your past partners.
your thighs shook and your hands gripped on the arms of the chair, cunt squeezing around his fingers as your juices seeped out of you and coated his skin. he fucked you through it, fingers rocking inside of you while pleasure flooded all of your senses.
“look at you,” he breathed against you, warm breath tickling your sensitive heat, “you’re a good girl, aren’t you?”
you nodded, unable to tear your gaze away, “yes,” you murmured, willing to say anything cooper wanted to hear, “i’ll do whatever you want.”
that cracked a smile on his lips, fingers slowing until he pulled them out and watched your face twist at the sudden emptiness, “anything? well, with an offer that sweet, i’ll be sure to get my worth out of you.”
all you could do was smile at him, breathing heavily in a state of post-climax, wondering how on earth you were going to keep this up without screaming out his name. loud enough for anyone outside the trailer to hear.
your were putty cooper’s hands. a simple kiss to your inner thigh and you nearly unraveled again.
“i don’t know how i got so lucky to fuck a girl like you,” his voice was low, demeanour shifting into a side of cooper howard you thought existed only in your mind, “is it okay if i do that? because i’m sure you know how to take cock well.”
fuck.
“yes, please,” you answered, eyes following him as he rose to his feet in front of you. it was hard not to noticed the tent in his pants, your mind reeling as you imagined what he looked like underneath.
“good girl,” he breathed, forcing you out of the chair and in one quick motion swiping across your makeup counter so everything fell to the ground.
you couldn’t complain about his mistreatment of your belongings because you were biting on your bottom lip to muffle a moan as his thumb circled your clit. your ass was atop the makeup counter, back pressed against the large mirror as cooper touched you with one hand and undid the button and zipper of his jeans with the other.
“you gotta’ be nice and quiet,” he whispered, watching you do your best to muffle any sounds bubbling from your throat, “this is just for us, okay?”
you hummed in agreement, unable to speak as you felt the head of his cock press against your entrance. his thumb continued the slow ministrations, keeping your body in a state of overstimulation as he stretched your aching pussy with a forward press of his hips. he was bigger than you were used to, but you took him well—you’d wanted this for weeks, after all.
“fuck,” you whimpered, hands grabbing onto his shoulders as you tilted your head back against the mirror and glued your eyes shut. you were filled by him, legs wrapping around his hips and forcing him still so you could adjust to the feeling.
“you okay, angel?” he kissed at your parted lips, tasting your tongue before trailing along your jaw and nibbling at your earlobe, “tell me when.”
even during the midst of an affair, cooper howard was the kindest man you ever had the privilege of fucking.
“...when,” you whimpered.
he didn’t hold back when you gave him the go—knowing that you two only had so little time before someone else was bound to barge in. you were forced to bury your face into his neck, whining and mewling against his skin while he fucked you relentlessly.
you loved his sounds, groaning heavy into your ear with each snap of his hips. his breath tickled your neck and left you a squirming mess, his cock fucking you so well that all you could do was babble gibberish. broken words of encouragement and pleads to keep going.
“harder,” you mewled, fingers digging into his clothed shoulders as he obliged.
his cock pushed so deep inside you that the tip rubbed against the fleshy ring of your cervix, rendering you utterly fucked out in a state of bliss. all you were good for was being a mere tool for him to reach his climax, your cunt tightening at every thrust of his hips.
more of your makeup toppled to the floor, your hands moving from his shoulders and gripping onto the surface below you. you met cooper’s gaze as you pulled back, his lips and chin covered in red smudges from your lipstick.
“you take me so good,” he breathed, the hand on your hip gripping tight and the other leaving handprints on the mirror behind you, “good fuckin’ girl.”
“i’m gonna’ come,” you whined, eyes hardly open as you peered at your lover through thick lashes. your thighs squeezed against his hips, vibrating as your second orgasm creeped up and you knew he was close, too.
“come for me, angel,” he grunted, quickening his pace to chase down his orgasm, “scream my name.”
his thumb returned to your clit and the chord inside you snapped. you wrapped your arms tight around the actor’s neck and pressed your lips against his so he could swallow your moans. you shook violently, toes curling as you came hard.
you lips parted from him and you couldn’t help the way his name slipped off your tongue, voice cracking as you cried in pleasure.
he wasn’t far behind, a groan rumbling deep from his chest as his hips stuttered and he came inside you—leaving you sticky, sweaty and full. neither of you could move, bodies twitching as you clung to each other in the euphoric aftermath that released all the building tension between you.
you were cooper howard’s little secret, a title you would take to the grave.
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emmyrosee · 4 months ago
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Cate hate kageyama and that’s canon!!! Imagine reader bringing home a kitten (assuming that it was born in the shelter so they had any interaction with the strays )and its the first ever cat that reciprocated tobio’s affection 🤭 our baby boy would probably bawl her eyes out hsjsndvdvs
GOD MY POOR BABY NOOOOOO
You’d passed the little fuzzball completely by chance driving home from the bakery, breakfast sandwiches in a brown bag in the passenger seat next to you. You slam on your breaks as hard as you can, completely oblivious to the other drivers blaring their horns at you.
A tiny grey cat, pawing at a toy in front of the window, with the sweetest little face you’ve ever seen. Your jaw slacks as you coo in your car, hands clutching your chest.
You immediately whip out your phone, snap a picture of the little ball of fur, and send it to Tobio.
SENT tell me not to get a cat
tobio 🩵 ok
don’t get a cat
SENT but tobioooooooouhhhhh
tobio 🩵 we don’t have room for a cat
SENT we can make room
tobio 🩵 why would you tell me to tell you to not get a cat
if you’re going to argue that we should get a cat
SENT f u I’m getting this cat
tobio 🩵 DO NOT. GET. THE CAT.
Needless to say, your breakfast sandwiches, now cold and soggy, rest in one hand, the other hand grasping a small carrier case, a tiny kitten inside looking around curiously at the changes in scenery. You excitedly drive home, talking to the small cat about Tobio, where the kitten will be sleeping, and how he’s going to be hesitant at first, but will grow to adore her.
It’s his adoration of you that’s in jeopardy right now.
You pull up home much later than you’d originally left for, and you brace yourself for the worst as you haul the kitten and sandwiches up the stairs to your front door, struggling with it briefly before coming face to face with a pouting Tobio.
“No thanks, wasn’t hungry at all,” he grumbles.
You merely rock back and forth on your feet, “you’ll forgive me once you meet our new addition.”
He rolls his eyes, “so I tell you no cat, and you immediately hear ‘buy the cat’?”
“Yes.” You open the small carrier case and allow the tiny cat to creep out on her own time, sniffing the air and looking up at you both in intrigue.
Then, she makes a beeline for Tobio’s pants. And starts to fiddle with it.
“Cats don’t like me,” he scoffs, reaching for the bag of barely edible breakfast sandwiches.
“What!” You say incredulously. “That’s ridiculous, cats like everyone!”
“First of all, no, they don’t,” he says, trying to ignore the kitten clawing his pajama pants. “Cats are notorious for hating people and hating their company. Secondly, every cat I’ve met has bit or clawed or hissed at me. Hell, look at this one-“ he gestures his hand down to the little cat chewing the cuff of his sweats. “Trying to bite me and shit.”
You lean over to press a kiss to his cheek, “if she wanted to bite you, baby, she would’ve. Come here,” you gently scoop the kitten into your hands, “just pet her.”
“Shes going to scratch my eye out.”
“And I’ll love you all the same.”
Hesitantly, he reaches out to let the cat sniff his fingers, and once she does, she rubs her tiny face against him, purring softly. You beam, “see? She likes you!”
“She doesn’t know what she likes,” he grumbles. Regardless, he continues to rub his thumb over her head, the size contrast making you swoon. “….she is real damn cute though.”
“See?” You say happily. “And she does like you. See how she’s angling into your touch?”
He blinks his blue eyes down at the kitten, her eyes fluttered closed the longer he lingers his touch back and forth over the pattern on top of her head. He cracks a smile, a small one, and you feel your heart soar.
“Fine,” he says, smiling at the cat. “We can keep her.”
“YESSSS!”
“But you’re cleaning her shit. They may hate people but they’re also fucking feral creatures.”
“Just like you?” You ask, and his face drops.
“One time. ONE TIME I forget to flush the toilet, never hear the end of it.”
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nohoney · 1 year ago
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there’s knocking at bakugou’s front door that he assumes is from you, probably too drunk from your girls night out to get your house keys out from your purse. imagine to his surprise when he opens the front door and he sees three of your girlfriends carrying you together while the fourth one was the one who knocked on his door and you’re knocked out.
“hey bakugou, (name) is home safe and sound!”
he’s gotta hand it to your friends, they’re good ones for carrying you all the way up to the front door.
“thanks, you can give her here. i got her.” bakugou offers up his arms for your friends to relieve them of carrying you.
“no we can take her in, we just wanna kiss her goodnight.”
god the amount of affection you and your friends have for one another once you’re all wasted is something else. but bakugou has long gotten used to it too so he steps aside to let your friend group in. even as your head lolls, one of them carefully readjusts so that your head doesn’t hang at an awkward angle. it sort of reminds bakugou of the one time sero had to carry kaminari over his shoulder after getting too wasted at a house party.
you’re laid down on the big couch you and him purchased together recently, all of them gathered around you and making sure that you’re comfortable. it must be some sort of intuition you have to know that your girls are about to leave that you suddenly open your eyes, still pretty drunk, and you open your arms for your girls. bakugou watches as you and your friend group drunkenly voice your love for one another, smirking a little when one kisses you on your mouth and the other one playfully grabs at your tit with a compliment of how hot you looked tonight.
“bakugou, this is our girl okay? you better take care of her!”
“yeah katsuki!” you join in on hanging up on him, “if you do some stupid shit, they’re gonna get you!”
oh he has no doubt about it; one of the girls in your group is somewhat notorious for petty revenge and even he would not be up for that.
bakugou bids your girlfriends good night, watching from the front door as they all gather into their car. he waves them off as they drive away, the friend that knocked on his door being the designated driver to take the others home. he shuts off the porch light and locks his front door, already knowing the drill of what you want when you’re this drunk at this hour.
“tsuki, i’m hungry and i want-“
“macaroni and cheese with fries. i know baby.” bakugou finishes your sentence, kneeling down to take off your high heels first and then holds the palm of his hand up, watching as you carefully peel off your fake eyelashes and you place them in his hand. “you gonna clean these or toss them?”
“toss.”
into the trash your lashes go and bakugou brings out the boxed macaroni and heats up the air fryer. you go into the bathroom where your makeup remover and all your skincare is already laid out for you, taking in a breath as you gather all two brain cells you have left to clean your face and at least do a body rinse in the shower.
food is ready by the time you exit the bathroom but you haven’t sobered up quite yet. while you eat your usual drunk-past-midnight meal bakugou comments, “i like your friends.”
“yeah, they’re great aren’t they?” you agree with a nod before munching on a crinkle fry. “they like you too. they say i should marry you.”
“really?” bakugou chuckles, “and here i am thinkin’ that my girl is gonna leave me to elope with her girlfriends instead.”
“they’re gonna be my bridesmaids when we get married.”
your words bring a fuzzy, sentimental feeling bloom in his chest. he knows that you’re drunk still and you possibly won’t remember this conversation, but he wants to hear more of what you have to say. “is that so? you talked about our wedding already?”
in drunken detail and while eating your food at the same time, you go over how each of your girlfriends will help support you in planning your supposed future union with bakugou. he listens, not bothering to hide the smile on his face as you go on and on. you talk more about how your friends will be involved rather than you and him but bakugou likes it. he likes how your friends like him and that they’re the most supportive group of girls he’s ever seen.
“you’re gonna wear a orange tie, mmkay? and we’re gonna have a mango cake!” you start to go off about what kind of food will be served at the wedding as bakugou cleans up the plates before you abruptly declare, “katsuki, you’re the only guy my friends like. the only one so don’t fuck this up, okay?”
“i won’t sweetheart, not with your gals ready to hide my body if i break your heart.”
you don’t remember the conversation the next morning when you wake up with a pounding hangover. but bakugou does. he remembers it as he gazes at you with a drink hand, wearing the orange tie you told him to wear and little bites of mango cake having already been fed to him by you. he watches how you hug your bridesmaids, your best friends, the girls who carried you home when you got too drunk and supported your relationship with him.
bakugou remembers how he waved off the girls that night as they drove back to their houses, and now they’re the ones waving you off as you and bakugou get into your car together to head to the airport for the honeymoon.
“you know my girls told me that i should marry you?”
bakugou plays dumb to the question, just only to hear the story from you again how he earned the seal of approval from your closest friends. he owes a mountain of gratitude to them because you and him probably wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for them.
they were the ones who told you to go up to him after all.
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fushic0re · 1 year ago
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⸺ 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐎𝐈 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐎
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𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 — POV: you’re dating the giant, brutish himbo nobody can stand. || OR aoi todo brainrot.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — 18+ ONLY; MINORS DNI. SMUT: size kink, rough sex, penetrative sex, spanking, oral (F receiving). mentions of canonical violence
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꒰ ͜͡➸ 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘, 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆! 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒❜ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 & 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑! ♡
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I NEED to start this off by stating that Aoi is a libra man.
Libra men are incredibly hard to impress, which is clear in the way that he presents his notorious “what’s your type?” question and beats the literal shit out of anyone with an unsatisfactory answer.
It’s not that he immediately hates that your type doesn’t align with his, it’s that if you cannot state with conviction what you love—what it is that you’re attracted to—he finds that you have a weak judge of character and is immediately unimpressed.
But when you DO impress him……honey.
Absolutely OBSSESSED with you.
Worships you, adores you to no end.
You could do no wrong in his eyes.
You could deadass kill someone and he'd be like:
Crying "That's my girl right there, mhm."
Always staring at you with lovesick eyes.
At any given moment you just have a giant man following you like a puppy, staring at you like you hung the moon and stars.
He's always cooing at you, complimenting your...well, everything really. He has no qualms about listing literally everything he adores about you.
His obsession with Takada, a woman he never met? Yea, that’s how he’s going to be with you but on CRACK because holy shit! You’re actually his! Not some fantasy, your relationship and love are tangible.
Libra men are picky with their partners, but when they do choose you, their hopeless romantic side is yours and yours alone—Aoi is no exception to this.
His Instagram page turns from pictures of him working out and at Takada events to just…you.
Selfies you send him upon request because he wants to see your pretty little face every second of the day, candid photos he takes of you, pictures of the two of you together, you name it.
Mai had opted to refer to his Instagram page as a fan page for you.
Aoi doesn’t even deny it.
“Of course my page is her fan page, LOOK AT HER!”
 Just so intense with the way he loves you and adores you and not in a way that’s concerning because he’s just a naturally intense guy.
It’s a no brainer that the way he loves you is reflective of that.
Gym dates are definitely a thing.
Aoi puts a lot of effort into his appearance and finds genuine joy in working out, so why not combine something that brings him joy with someone who brings him joy!
“BABE! GYM DAY! We gotta take care of that gorgeous ass of yours!”
Will not take no for an answer. He’ll pick you up, throw you over his shoulders, and get you both to the gym that way.
If you’re a fitness/gym newbie, he’s so, so patient and encouraging with you it almost makes you cry.
He appreciates you deeply for coming to the gym with him just so he can be around you.
He also doesn’t mind seeing you in activewear and cute matching sets because he thinks you look sexy as fuck in them.
Expect quickies in the car after leaving the gym. He won’t even be able to wait until you both get home.
He’s still pumped up from his workout and following with testosterone, so these quickies are usually rough and consist of him yanking your leggings down, pulling your panties to the side, and bouncing you up and down on his lap like a fucking doll.
Because no matter what size you are, you’re lightwork for the great Aoi Todo.
“Fuck baby,” He grunts, his fingers gripping your thighs tightly. The car rocks back and forth from the sheer force of his movements. He pulls you off his cock and lands a firm spank on your rear. “Get your ass in that backseat.”
He’s definitely a giver in all aspects of your relationship. He prides himself on being able to cater to you.
Hungry? He’ll find out exactly what you’re craving and order it or cook it himself.
Tired? You have a big burly man to use as a giant teddy bear.
Sad? Stressed? Having a bad day? He’s there for you to listen, rant with you, cry to, baby you, and offer you advice which contrary to popular belief he’s quite good at.
Beneath is himbo-y, brutish, meathead exterior Aoi is actually very intelligent and insightful.
It’s one of the reasons why you love him so much. There’s so much more to him than meets the eye.
He’ll still beat the shit out of anyone who even looks at you wrong though.
When it comes to sex, you always come first—literally and figuratively.
He’ll have you coming around 3 times before even fucking you. He just wants to be able to indulge you, but selfishly a part of him gets off of making you feel good and being the only one to do so.
When he’s eating you out, you have to practically shove him away between your legs.
He basically turns into a shark when it gets its first whiff of blood in the ocean when it comes to your pussy—frenzied, greedy, and primal.
“Baby,” You whimper as his tongue continues to flick your clit. You’ve already came twice on his mouth, but he’s not slowing down whatsoever. He chuckles deeply as he feels your thighs tremble in his hands.
“You’re so cute.” Aoi coos condescendingly, sucking your pearl in between his lips. “All shaky and whiney for me.”
You cry out loudly when his tongue flicks your clit once more, instinctively jerking away from him. His dark, predacious eyes snap up, staring up at you.
“Don’t try and take my pussy away from me.” He warns, his deep voice rumbling in his chest. “That’s my pussy.”
All in all, you are absolutely taken care of in that relationship.
For someone whose biggest fear is boredom, Aoi is surprised to learn that he actually cherishes the more quiet, domestic moments he experiences with you.
Grocery shopping for dinner, cooking together, bandaging each other up after exorcising curses, napping together—he’ll take all of those things over whatever cheap thrills he once longed for any day.
The life of a sorcerer was dangerous.
Sure, he was unwaveringly confident in his strength and abilities, but the truth of the matter was that his life was always on the line.
It’s a heavy fate to have constantly looming over you, but in a swarm of darkness…is you. You.
You’re his home, his person, his solstice, his fucking girl.
You’re everything.  
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© all rights reserved to honeystevie — do not translate, repost, or plagiarize.
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brummiereader · 5 months ago
Text
MASTERLIST TRAILER
Uptown Girl (Part One)
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Summary: When your high society life comes crumbling down around you. You are left to deal with the inherited mess your father's love of the casino tables had landed him in, and the gangster he had settled his debts with. Mr Thomas Shelby. But when heads butt during your first encounter with the notorious gang leader over the deeds to Arrow House. You both stubbornly refuse to back down, begrudgingly accepting each other as an unwelcome housemate. With your future on the line, and the arranged union you want to be free from rapidly approaching. You come to the quick realisation that if you can't force the blue-eyed squatter from your house, then you would drive him out. One way or another.
Warnings: Language, angst, mentions of death by suicide
Word Count: 4535
Authors Note: £200-£300 sterling pound in 1924, was worth between £10000-£15000 in todays value.
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"So it's agreed then, Miss?" the smartly dressed man with hungry eyes questioned you, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip as he greedily beamed down at the delicate diamond necklace sitting on the plush red velvet cushion below it. "£200 for the Elysée necklace, and it's matching earrings?"
"£250 for the necklace alone, Mr Burton" you quickly corrected his value of the precious jewel sat in front of you. The last of your mother's cherished collection gifted to her on her wedding day.
" £300 for the lot" his eyes narrowed in on the lustrous stones adorned with a cluster of diamonds weighing down your ears. He would have the full collection, or nothing at all.
" Scandalous! " your Granny's voice quivered as she sat in the corner of your father's office. Exceedingly displeased with the intentionally low estimation of your family's jewels as her satin gloved fingers clutched tightly around her walking stick.
" It is but business, Mam" the Jeweler replied with an avid, gold-toothed smile. His arms flamboyantly hovering in the air as he bowed to the former Duchess of Arrow House with anything but the respect she was once shown.
" Hm!" your dear Grans voice hiccuped as she turned her head in displeasure to the gentleman who was a far cry from the considerate businessman he claimed to be. But rather, that of a man who had fallen upon a family's suffering through yet another death brought on by the woes of a troubled mind.
" £300 it is then" you announced with your head held high, removing the last remaining item of value you possessed from the soft lobes of your ears to join its sister necklace.
With reluctant hands, you gracefully placed each earring onto the cushioned fabric. The tips of your fingers brushing over the passing memories of you sat as a small child on the edge of your mother's bed. Mesmerised by her beauty as you watched her adorn her gown with each jewel that would accompany her on a soiree of dancing and champagne. They will be yours one day, my darling girl, her voice whispered to you like a passing summer breeze as you closed your eyes. The grief you still felt for her loss now weighed down with that of your father's recent death.
" Wonderful!" the Jeweler's voice snatched you away from your cherished memories. Snatching the precious stone from under your fingers and replacing them with a stack of King George banknotes." Pity old George couldn't help you out, hm?"
" Pity? Pity?!" your Granny's voice rose to a squeaky pitched tone of offense as her stern expression honed in on the jeweler that was about to get a good old-fashioned telling off. " Well I never. If you were any the wiser, Mr Burton. I would take your insolent, blithering..."
"Yes, thank you, Granny. Good day to you, Mr Burton" you interrupted your Grans inevitable barrage of flustered insults as you ushered the jeweler from the study. Saving him from not only her sharp words but your family's faltering reputation from another scandal you wished to avoid.
" Oh, how the mighty have fallen" the Jeweler's teasing words echoed back to your Gran still perched on the small cushioned chair, outraged by the sheer cheek of the man, when your brother loudly made his unwelcome appearance through the foyer.
" Mighty, and of good stock!" your brother cheered back, having heard only a portion of what was more of an insult than any compliment his far away thoughts had understood. " Oh, I say..." your brother's eyes widened at the large stash of banknotes stacked in a pile on the polished desk as he entered the room.
" Johnathan. What are you doing here?" you impatiently asked, snatching them away and swiftly making your way across the room to Frances waiting with your brother's shotgun he had lumbered her with by the door after a day of hunting stags on the property. " For the wages, and upkeep" you discretely whispered, handing the money to your most trusted employee with only one banknote remaining for your father's impending funeral.
" Oh sissy, how dire" your brother said upon seeing the lonely note being folded in your hand and safely into the pocket of your dress as he sat down, puffing on what was left of his cigar while eyeing up anything he could sell, having already squandered his estate on the inherited trait of your father that had gotten you into this mess. Gambling. A mess which was now, your burden.
With only a penny left to his name, your father played his last and final hand in the backstreets of London's grottyest alleyway. Foolishly putting all his remaining hopes on the copper coin to win back his wasted fortune. But when the dice turned against his favour, sealing his losing fate. Your father slumped to the muddy ground, removing his gun and shooting himself point-blank in the side of the head. Left to die alone in the dark, penniless. Your father had succumbed to the very thing he had wasted his life on.
" Again Johnathan, what are you doing here? Or rather, what do you want?" you sighed with crossed arms, kicking his muddy boots from the ottoman in front of him.
" Why is everyone so glum, and in black?" your brother huffed, looking around the solemn room that was once filled with gold ornaments and neatly categorised books you would spend your time reading quietly on the feathered cushioned settee as your father mulled over the odds for his next bet at the races.
" Our father still lies cold on the morgue table, Johnathan" you scolded your older brother. Ten years older, to be precise.
Wise beyond your years, an old soul. That's what those dearest to you would say. In reality, you were nothing of the sort. But rather forced into behaving for both you and your idiotic brother, who was intent on staining the family's name with his seedy lifestyle.
" We're in mourning Johnny, my dear" your Granny looked upon your brother with an unwavering sigh of both love and tolerance that only a grandmother would show for her half-witted grandson to whom she was forever bound too. " And preparation. For a dark day has come to Arrow House" she dramatically finished as she turned her head away in disbelief about the morning's unfolding events.
" Preparation for what, exactly ?" your brother asked obliviously, or rather ignorantly to everything that had unfolded in the weeks prior to your father's death.
"Preparation for him. Mr Thomas Shelby." Your grandmother's voice rose as she turned to her eldest grandchild. " The gangster!" her voice pitched to an even higher note as she clutched her chest in horror at the situation her son, your father, had landed you in with the Birmingham gang leader your Granny could only envision to be like that of the viscous darkly creatures she had read in her nightly novels.
" A gangster, you say? How thrilling. This place could do with a little fun" your brother replied, flicking a dusty lamps weathered shade next to him. His need to live life further on the edge than what he was already precariously sat on, horrifying your Grandmother for a second time. "Does this gangster happen to drive a Bentley?"
" Oh god, he's early. Why is he so early?" You panicked at the approaching sound of a car on the gritted drive as your flustered fingers fidgeted with your pearl necklace.
" A gangster with good time keeping, sister" your brother smirked as he watched you smooth down the front of your dress, your lips silently mumbling your practiced speech.
" Johnathan, would you please shut up and stop calling him that. Would you like to get us all shot, and join Daddy in the morgue?" you huffed as the irritated former child in you made an appearance to your only sibling, who was enjoying, as he always did, purposely annoying you to the point of a foot-stomping childish outburst.
" And he brings two accompanying gangsters with him. What a burly looking lot" your brother's eyes narrowed in on the three men exiting the car behind the tempered glass.
" Johnathan! Shu..."
"Children please. I'm far too close to my own deathbed to withstand your bickering. Must I endure it until that very day?" your Grandmother sighed as she slowly approached you, her hand closing reassuringly around your jittery fingers. " Head up dear, don't let him see you falter" your Granny encouraged you, patting your hand and any lingering doubts away. "Stand firm. You'll leave this manor in grace and class" she stated, head held high as her cane came down to the floor with a thud in a show of both strength and dignity as she took your brothers' steadying arm, and he led her into the foyer.
You'll leave this manor in grace and class, your Grandmother's guiding words sat with the uncomfortable lump of deception now forming in your throat as you followed behind her. For the days events were about to take a very different turn than planned. A plan in motion that neither your Grandmother nor this wretched gangster Mr Shelby could have ever envisioned. One that was imperative for you to escape the dreaded wedding arranged since your birth to the brute of a man you were promised to in one month's time. Cal Astor.
"Here she is, boys" Tommy said, stepping out of the car, lighting a cigarette as he looked at his newly acquired stately home. " Let's hear it then. What do you think?"
" Got nothing on Small Heath" Arthur sniffed as he squinted to the very top of the sturdy bricked mansion, cautiously weighing up its threatening statue. "Nah, give me Watery Lane"
"The mud and shit too?"John asked, twisting his toothpick between his teeth as his face scrunched up at the elaborate fountain of a large busted woman spouting water from her nipples. Your brother's only, and soon to be discarded, ghastly contribution to Arrow House. "Bloody toffs"
"Especially the shit" Arthur replied, checking the imposing house's stability with a firm slap to the bricked wall. "Go on then Tom, tell us aye. What poor bastard did you fool into giving this up?" he said before tipping his hat to one of the many garden staff now scurrying off to safety in fear of his kneecaps being blown off. The result of another mighty tale from your Grandmother's overactive imagination, that had undoubtedly stirred the staff of Arrow House into a dizzy.
"A rich old bastard who had reached the bottom of his pockets" Tommy replied, blowing a puff of smoke from the corner of his mouth.
"Well, where is the poor fucker then? No grand welcome?" Arthur asked, offended the red carpet and all its thrills hadn't been laid out for their arrival for such a grand home.
"Dead" Tommy flatly stated as he approached the towering wooden door, ignoring any of his brothers assumptions that he was the delivering hand of that untimely death. "Right come on lads. Best behaviour, eh?
"Jesus, bloody, Christ" John huffed, flicking his toothpick into the neatly cut grass, wary of what his brother had gotten them into this time.
Stood in the foyer with your only two remaining family members, and the staff under your employment orderly lined up beside you. You waited. Listening to the footsteps of the man you had yet to meet, slowly approaching.
" Mr Shelby, I'm afraid there's been a misunderstanding..." you quietly rehearsed under your breath when a loud, heavy fisted knock rattled the foyer door. Startling both you and your Grandmother.
" Must he be so barbaric? This house does possess a doorbell! your Grandmother fussed as you nodded to Frances to open the door and have you face the inevitable you could no longer delay.
As the door slowly opened, a low, gravely voice greeted your housekeeper. Accompanying it, three smartly dressed men, each one sporting a peak cap. As your eyes darted from the youngest of the men in front of you to the tallest with a large moustache neatly trimmed above his top lip, they finally came to land on the man stood in the middle. His steel blue stare instantly locking with yours. It was him, Thomas Shelby.
A painfully awkward silence suddenly settled in the air when all thought drifted mutually from your minds. Embarrassingly halting either one of you from saying or doing anything. Leaving everyone present in an uncomfortable shared state of confusion of darting stares as they stood silently in the foyer.
Uncomfortable for all but two, that was. For something far more intriguing had unexpectedly sparked in the silence between the daughter of high society and the Small Heath boy from the hardened streets of Birmingham. A spark neither one of you expected to be ignited that day as your shared gaze remained fixed on the other and time suddenly seemed to dissipate, with everything and everyone around you blurring into nothingness.
That was until the echo of your Grannie's cane booming on the marble floor brought you and Tommy back to the present world.
" Mr Shelby..." you began, clearing your throat as you watched him remove his peaked cap, when your intended words escaped your thoughts once again to the man stood before you. A man not hardened faced, loud and savage like your Grandmother would have you believe. But a man with striking features and a magnetic, demanding stance. Quietly stood observing you. Patiently waiting for formal introductions like any gentleman from your world would do.
"Mr Shelby, welcome to Arrow House" you unexpectedly greeted him with a politeness you had been adamant on guarding as you tried to compose yourself after your state of, confusion.
Did you come with the house too?, Tommy thought to himself, as a curious hint of a smile etched on the corner of his lips for the woman that had suddenly captivated him. Oblivious to who you was, and the pounding headache you would soon create for him.
"I'm afraid...I'm afraid there has been a misunderstanding, Mr Shelby" you said, having finally recomposed yourself as you held your head high. Unwilling to, as Granny said, falter.
"Misunderstanding?" Tommy's brow furrowed as he cautiously stepped closer, sharply aware of your Grandmother's sudden snap of her head in your direction.
" I'm here to inform you, that the arrangement you had with my father is void" you cleared your throat, watching your unwelcome guests eyes pierce through the guard you had quickly shielded yourself with as he learnt of your connection to the former owner of the house he was stood in.
" Void..." Tommy scoffed, cocking a brow. His patience with you dancing around the subject and what you really intended on saying becoming tiresome.
" Yes. Void" you firmly stated, defiantly crossing your arms in reaction to his less than pleasant tone of voice aimed solely at you. Both of your unexpected allure with the other suddenly evaporating, and swiftly being replaced with a mutual irritation for one another as the bricked walls of control over the matter began to both mutually stack themselves high. "Arrow House was not my father's to give, Mr Shelby"
" That right, eh?" Tommy chuckled, as he looked back to his brothers shared amusement for your firm, but endearing stance." Then who's is it, sweetheart?"
" Mine" you coldly gave the delivering blow, severing his entertainment before turning on your heel and making your way up the long winding stairs as the staff and your flustered Grandmother accompanied by your brother hastily scattered from the foyer. Leaving Tommy's brothers in a fit of laughter while he glared at you from below on the marble floor as the overseeing eye of the iron-clad documents of Arrow House emerged from an adjoining room.
"Mr Shelby. A word, perhaps?"
" In her name?" Tommy confirmed, clenching his jaw fiercely together as he hunched over what was, for all intents and purposes, his desk.
" Correct, Mr Shelby" your newly acquired lawyer mumbled, nervously shifting his eyes to the two brothers stood uncomfortably close behind him.
" I saw the deeds myself. Watched the lying bastard put them in my name" Tommy lifted his head, pointing his finger accusingly at the lawyer he was now convinced was trying to pull one over on him, and delay his move.
" I don't doubt you, Mr Shelby" he stepped closer, and away from the two pitbulls breathing unnervingly down his neck. " You see, before the recently departed Duke died. The late mother of Miss Y/N Y/L/N made sure the deeds to Arrow House, and its land, were put in her name"
Your beloved mother. Born into a life of poverty not so different to that of Tommy's. She too, had worked her way up the precarious ladder of wealth, further cementing her future after accepting your father's proposal of marriage. But a life of financial worries had not escaped her when she began to learn of her husband's burning pockets, and his love of the casino tables.
In a desperate last attempt on her deathbed, and to guarantee you financial security, sparing you from a life of chains beautified with gold and satin ball gowns she never envisioned for you. Your mother, the fellow owner of your childhood home, had the deeds of Arrow House signed over into your safeguard, and away from the high rolling hands of your father and brother.
" For fucks sake..." Tommy mumbled with a hefty sigh, slouching down into his chair having realised the predicament he now found himself in.
" Really landed yourself in it this time, aye Tom?" Arthur couldn't help but give his younger brother an overdue sibling ribbing.
" Fuck off, Arthur" Tommy huffed in response, earning a snigger of laughter from both his brothers, who were more than happy to see him take a spectacular fall in his climb for the finer things in life.
" There is...something though, Mr Shelby. Something I could look into. For the right price, that is" the lawyer mused, his greedy fingers perching on the edge of the desk, now summed up on who the man was in front of him, and the depth of his pockets. No matter how tainted they may be. " There is a missing signature on the papers the late Duchess had filed before her death. The Dukes, missing signature. It will take some time to look into the documents' validity, but..."
" Get it done" Tommy interrupted the lawyer, ushering with his hand for him to leave before falling back into his chair with a chesty breath. Arrow House was his, he would make it so. One way or another.
After stewing over the predicament he found himself in for the better part of an hour. Tommy sat silent, weighing out the pros and cons of his next unexpected move as his stare honed in on the bronze statue of a stallion on his deck.
" What the bloody hell is he doing?" John impatiently mumbled to his eldest brother, who he himself was lost on what exactly it was Tommy was waiting for. " Tom, what..." John began to say when the office door flew open, and you came charging through. Your own patience with the head of the Birmingham gang's presence in your home wearing precariously thin.
" Mr Shelby, you've spoken with my lawyer. You know the terms of the deeds. Now I would ask you, kindly, to leave" you huffed crossed armed as you walked through the office collecting any remaining items of value in your arms. Cautiously aware of keeping them away from the three men's reputable light fingers.
" Y/N..." Tommy began as you sauntered past him, throwing the curtains open he had closed to dull the buzzing pain rattling in his skull you had welcomed him with.
" Miss Y/L/N" you were quick to correct him as Tommy ran his fingers down his face. His emerging eyes unable to divert from your swaying hips and flowing dress brushing past his leg, capturing his attention for a second time.
Watching you walk away was now, far more pleasant than having your angry frown storm towards him, Tommy thought to himself, clearing his throat as he looked at the pitiful lack of whisky in the decanter beside him. If you didn't have such a stubborn mouth, he'd be inclined to let your pretty face hang around, his petty ego nagged him. Irritated by the fact, he had lost himself in your beauty and allure in a brief moment of confusion earlier that day.
" Mr Shelby. Please" you gestured to the door as you stood defiantly in front of your father's mahogany desk, watching him brush his thumb over the muzzle of the ornament he had taken a liking for. " Mr Shelby..."
" I'm not going anywhere, love" Tommy finally spoke, looking up at your raging face as he picked up the weighty statue in his hand. " There seems to be a slight error on the deeds, Miss Y/L/N. A missing signature. Your father's signature" Tommy raised a brow as he pointed the ornament in your direction, unable to hide the triumphant smirk behind the smugness sitting on his face as he watched the realisation of your rapidly crumbling plan start to fall apart on your flustered face. "So until the deeds are reviewed..." he paused, turning the bronze horse to look at him. "Looks like you'll have to put up with me"
For the second time that day, you were left speechless by the stranger in front of you. This time, however, with a good dose of irritation spurring it on.
"Like hell I will!" You blurted, without a second thought for just how unladylike your reaction and the following response would look, when you reached over the table grabbing hold of the horse in Tommy's hand, and a childish tug of war ensued between the both of you.
" Fine" you huffed, blowing a lock of hair from In front of your eyes as you let go.
" Good" Tommy replied adjusting his tie as he sheepishly looked over to his smirking brothers, having witnessed the entire, amusing display.
"Keep it. A small souvenir" you pouted, pointing to the ornament gripped in his hand as you turned to leave, pulling a small cushion from under the bum of the youngest gangster as he sent a wink and cheeky dimpled grin your way.
" Enjoy your brief stay, Mr Shelby. And have no doubt. My lawyer will be urgently looking into your claims" you warned, clutching the handle of the door as you watched him rise from behind your father's desk and approach you.
"He already is, love. Paid him a nice sum of money to help speed things up" Tommy said standing uncomfortably close as he looked at you from head to toe, his eyes lingering on your plush lips.
A power unmatched. Money to buy his way through life. Something you knew would be dangerously futile in fighting with your lack of current funds.
" So be it, Mr Shelby" you succumbed to the situation with as much boldness as you could muster as you turned to leave. If you couldn't force him out, you would drive him out. One way or another.
Five days later...
" Good morning, Frances" you cheerfully greeted your housekeeper as you descended down the stairs in your nightie with a hop in your step, a bounce of your hair.
" Good morning, Miss" Frances swallowed heavily as her eyes darted to the grand clock ticking loudly in the corner of the entrance. Five days and counting. Five, obscenely early mornings, you had woken up earlier than the minutest chirp from any bird that had ever lived on the grounds of Arrow House.
" A little Beethoven this morning, perhaps?" you asked, perching yourself on the stool in front of the grand piano you had the staff conveniently move to the foyer. A spot that just so happened to be within close proximity to a certain someone's bedroom. " Any suggestions?"
"Fur Elise is a lovely piece, Miss. And you play it so well" Frances encouraged the mellow tune as her eyes darted to the top of the stairs, wary of the sleeping occupant only a stone throw away.
" It is. But I feel something a little more...rambunctious is needed to start the day. "Don't you think?" you smiled, turning the page to Symphony no5 as an amused smirk played on the corner of your lips whilst your hands hovered teasingly over the ivory keys, and you began to play. Loudly.
As the sound of your enthusiastic musical skills reverberated through the walls of Arrow House, a grunting Tommy stirred in his bed at the unwelcome shrill of the piano below him.
"Fuck sake..." Tommy mumbled incoherently, awakening from a deep sleep as he rolled from his stomach to his back. His eyes slowly opening, his ears tuning in. "Shut the...!" He grumbled, shouting the rest of his less than gentlemanly choice of words through the pillow he had grabbed to muffle the early wake-up call as he regained full consciousness. "FUCKKKK!" He roared from the pits of his lungs, when your continued playing only increased his irritation to a heightened, heavenly high.
Looking up at the landing stairs, a satisfied smirk grew on your face, hearing the beautiful barrage of curses from the unwelcome squatter in your home for the fifth day in a row as your fingers glided over the cool ivory.
Throwing the covers from him, Tommy grabbed his gun from the cabinet side table as he scrambled for his trousers, pulling them up as he stomped to the door.
" Seems Mr Shelby's awake, Frances" you spoke above the piano, as your loyal housekeeper nervously smiled to you, nodding her head. Readying herself for the fury of a thoroughly pissed off Tommy heading your way as his booming strides beckoned closer.
Encouraged by the sound of Tommy's door slamming shut, you continued your endeavour. Unbeknownst, that Tommy's hunched shoulders were looming over the banister. Gun in hand as he positioned his arm on the metal railing, aiming the end of the barrel directly at the woman whose sole purpose in life was to wake him up every morning with an insufferable racket.
"Don't move, darling" Tommy teasingly whispered as his eyes narrowed in, his breath steadying whilst he watched your fingers dance along the keys as he adjusted his shot.
As the sight of your lonely digit lingered over the next key, Tommy squeezed the trigger, shooting off the finishing note before you had the chance to give your triumphant end.
Leaping from the smoky crater now forever embedded in your grand piano, your eyes shot up to see your unwelcome roommate looking down at you with a cocky smirk as he shoved his gun against the naked skin between the waistband of his trousers.
" Morning, love"
NEXT PART
Tag list: @weaponizedvirtue @un-interneted @mama-ivy @kmc1989 @leighla3
@emotionalcadaver @mamawiggers1980 @sweetcheesecakesblog @cljordan-imperium @peakyswritings
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 1 year ago
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The Princess & The Playboy (Part 1)
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Summary: After one of the reader's last concerts of the year, she unexpectedly runs into notorious playboy Dean Winchester, quarterback of the LA Wolves. Only Dean's a big fan and he seems to want more than just a photo if given the chance...
Masterlist
Pairing: NFL Quarterback!Dean x Pop Star!reader
Word Count: 4,400ish
Warnings: language, family trauma/angst, kidnapping
A/N: I promise there'll be more Dean and reader interacting in person next part! Needed to set the scene with this!
_________
You groaned the second you were alone. You’d survived the summer tour but you were exhausted. All you wanted was a greasy hamburger, chicken nuggets, and to sleep for a month. After changing into a pair of joggers and oversized hoodie, you texted your bodyguard Eric, telling him you wanted to get out of there quietly. He knocked twice on your dressing room door before entering with a smile.
“Great show tonight,” he said. You rolled your eyes, Eric grabbing your backpack for you. 
“Like you pay attention to anything besides harassing the security team,” you said, resting your forehead against his strong chest. “I never want to tour again. I’m so tired.”
“You’re just cranky cause you’re hungry and need sleep,” he said rubbing your back. “You only have two more shows this year and then we can sit on the couch eating cookies and binging divorce court.”
“This is why I keep you around, buddy,” you laughed, taking a deep breathe before looking up. “Speaking of food-“
“Let’s get you out of here and full of some chicken nuggies.”
“Back in five,” you said to Eric thirty minutes later, your wallet in hand and panic button in your pocket. He let you go out without it sometimes but not after a show and especially not when you were in the press so much lately. 
It was nearly midnight as you walked into the nearly empty McDonald’s, a guy in a hoodie at the counter with his back to you. 
“Hi,” you said, stepping up to the other register. “Can I get a quarter pounder with cheese, a medium fry and a twenty piece chicken nugget with barbecue sauce? Oh and a bottle of water.”
You paid, the girl behind the counter staring at you like she recognized you but was too nervous to say anything.
“Holy shit,” said a male voice. You glanced left, the man in the hoodie pushing it down to reveal him in a black baseball cap. He was incredibly handsome and had such pretty green eyes. Something seemed vaguely familiar about him but you couldn’t place it. “You’re Y/N Y/L/N…and apparently you eat like a linebacker.”
“Dance on stage for three hours every night and you would too,” you said, the man humming.
“Do you mind if I get a pic?” he asked. 
“Sure,” you said, the man handing his phone to the girl behind the counter who eagerly took a few. He was practically giddy when he got his phone back, a bag of food coming out for him.
“Thanks for indulging me,” he said. You noticed a few strands of confetti on top of his hat and smiled. He must have been at the concert. He almost walked away and out the door when he spun around, parting his lips. “Can I give you my number?”
“Sure,” you said again. It was much safer to just take the number and hand it off to Eric to do a background check on the person than try a rejection. The man scribbled it down on the back of your receipt, your cashier now acting as his wing woman and making sure he had a pen.
“I uh, hope to hear from you soon,” he said, flashing you a wink before leaving. You eased when he was gone, the girl at the counter handing you your bag of food after a moment. 
“He’s so hot, isn’t he?” she said, your eyebrows raising. Not the reaction you were expecting from her.
“Mhm. Thanks for the food. Have a good night,” you said, quickly leaving. You ducked outside, Eric waiting in the backseat for you. 
“Any trouble?” he asked, nodding to the man farther down the parking lot, slipping into a large SUV.
“Just a fan,” you said, handing him the paper with the guys number. He gave you a side eye as he took it from your fingers. “He was harmless.”
“I’ll check it out to be sure,” he grumbled, stealing a fry from your bag. “Did you get me-“
“Yes I got you your nuggets,” you said, Eric relaxing back into his seat. Your driver headed for home and in twenty minutes you were on your couch chowing down. Eric was at the kitchen counter, lazily scrolling through his phone, probably grateful that you were secure in the house for the night.
You watch his eyes go wide, gaze shooting to you.
“I swear I didn’t do anything.” You kept eating your burger, Eric silently watching you. “Dude, you’re freaking me out.”
“That fan from McDonald’s posted the pic of you,” he said. You rolled your eyes and got up, sulking over to him.
“Oh tell me he’s not some whack job.”
“He’s Dean Winchester,” he said, showing his phone to you. You shrugged, walking back to the couch. “Dean Winchester? NFL quarterback? Three time Super Bowl winner?”
You stared at him, Eric groaning. 
“He’s the quarterback for the LA Wolves…he went to Kansas State the same time you did, Y/N. You probably went to his football games.” He rolled his eyes at you. “How do you not realize you’re taking a picture with a sports legend?”
“I must have missed it with all my free time over the past dozen years with all the touring and ten albums and other shit in my life. And frankly you’re the one that told me it doesn’t matter who it is, I need to be careful of everyone, whether they’re famous or not.” He sighed, putting his phone away.
“Alright, I get your point,” he said, returning to eating. “Dude’s kind of a player anyways it seems like. Nice guy but I know you’re more the sensitive guy type.”
“Emotionally available,” you corrected, plopping down on the couch once more. “Why would you think he’s into me anyways? Plenty of people are fans without wanting to get in my pants.”
“Well, it’s Dean Winchester so he definitely wants in your pants,” he joked. “Also the caption, genius.” 
You quirked your eyebrow, Eric tossing his phone over to you. You pouted when you went back to the post, actually reading it this time.
DWinchester67 Y/N Y/L/N Saturday Night Concert at the Wolves stadium. AMAZING TIME with the crew. Worth getting ragged on by the boys all week for taking them to the show just to see them belt their hearts out to #FinishLine (video soon)
Then had the awesome luck to snag a pic with Y/N grabbing a midnight snack. I was dying on the inside at meeting my crush. Sorry for being awkward when you were trying to get your grub on. Next time it’s on me ;)
Your eyes met Eric’s when you finished, his chicken nuggets nearly gone. 
“Yeah, like no reason he’s into you, right?” smirked Eric. You grumbled, returning to your late night dinner. “I’ll background check that number in the morning.”
“He’s a player that wants to have sex. Don’t bother with the background work. He’s harmless.”
“As you wish, princess,” he said with a little bow, earning himself being hit in the face with your balled up burger wrapper. “The abuse I put up with. Tsk tsk.”
“Yeah, yeah. Tell that to your generous benefits package,” you said, Eric chuckling as he double checked the back doors were locked one last time. “Eric…”
“Mhm,” he hummed, ruffling your head gently as he walked past the back of the couch. “See you in the morning, kiddo.”
“Night. Oh!” you said, sitting up on your knees on the couch, Eric throwing his head back. “It’s nothing bad! Just…can you ban everyone from the house until ten? I really want to sleep in and try to catch up.”
“You want me to fend off your team? After Dean Winchester posted that? What do I get out of this?” he teased, crossing his arms. You batted your eyes, jutting out your lip. “You got to do better than that.”
“I’ll buy you box seats to an LA Wolves game of your choice?” He looked blank faced which meant he was really tempted to take the offer. But Eric didn’t like extravagant gifts from you for doing his job. He already said his paycheck was more than enough and he barely accepted the Christmas and birthday presents you’d get for him.
You held up a finger, Eric calculating the move.
“Give me one good reason for not accepting.”
“First off, it’s too much. Second, I’m your primary protection agent and need to be available-”
“Please Eric? They’re going to be vultures in the morning with that whole post and you haven’t had a day off in six months. You’re as exhausted as I am. I’m asking as your friend, not your boss.” He grumbled, shaking his head. “Is that a yes?”
“It means I’ll think about it and I’ll see you in the morning,” he said. “We’re going to watch football all day. I’ll teach you all about it.”
You growled, Eric snickering the whole way out.
Dean POV
The first game of the season was always a good one. The team was healthy. We had home field advantage for once. 
And I really enjoyed the hell out of playing football in a packed stadium. It wasn’t an ego thing like for some people. No, I loved putting on a show and entertaining people for a few hours a week, give them a fun escape before they had to return to the reality of their lives.
That’s what football had always been to me and I knew for most fans, it gave them that same sense of belonging.
And women tended to really like seeing a bunch of muscular men run around in tight pants.
“Winchester, surprised you’re here,” said Michael. I glanced over my shoulder in the locker room, a big smirk on his face. “I thought you’d be in the burn unit with how hard you crashed and burned with Y/N Y/L/N last night.”
I rolled my eyes at the taunts of the room, ignoring them as they riffed on me for a good ten minutes. When Benny walked in though they finally calmed down, Ben taking a seat in his cubby beside me.
“Let me have it,” I sighed. Benny leaned in close, covering his mouth from the rest of the room.
“If you really want that girl to go out with you, you got to do more than make an insta post. She’s classy. She’s not going to fawn over you like every dipshit you’ve dated because you’re good looking. So you better impress her.” He gave me one last look before reaching down to his duffel and pulling out his cleats.
He had a point. Y/N had never cared for cocky flirts. I could remember her in college, always spending time at parties with the shy academic guys that chatted her ear off about music theory and english papers. I swear the only time she gave a single jock attention was when she’d grab a guitar in the late hours of the night and sing a song none of us had heard before. She could stop a group of drunken college students in their tracks with a single note. Nowadays her music was all pop but back then, just her and a guitar…I’d have sworn an angel fell out of the sky straight in front of me.
No woman had made my heart swell up with comfort and longing the way she had the night I laid eyes on her for the first time. 
The years had done little to diminish a teenage boy’s crush. If anything, seeing her last night, getting to talk to her for even a brief moment, made my insides burn hotter than before. Maybe it was only a crush, an infatuation with a beautiful woman with an even more beautiful voice.
I felt Benny’s stare on me as I lazily watched my feet before me.
“You’re still in love with her.” He said it as a statement so I didn’t respond. I’d never claimed such a thing despite Benny insisting on it back in college. But he’d always been good at sensing those kinds of things.
Or at least he wasn’t afraid to say it out loud.
“I talked to her in english lit once, about you.” My head snapped up, eyes wide as he was now down to his boxer briefs, tugging up his pants. “She heard what happened to Sam.”
“Why are you bringing up Sam?” I whispered, giving him a hard glare. Benny smiled, curious since he knew not to bring him up unless I did. “Half the school offered their condolences. Of course she-”
“She didn’t. She offered…hope. Apparently her little brother went missing once too.” I turned my head away. 
“Everyone who knows anything about Y/N Y/L/N heard that story. Congrats. We both have little brothers that were kidnapped and never heard from again. Fucking awesome we can share that trauma,” I spit out. Benny leaned in close, gripping my shoulder.
“She wrote a song for her brother. Finish Line. She showed it to me long before she got famous. Look up who it’s fucking dedicated to and maybe realize there is a deeper reason why you fell in love at first sight with that girl. I have a feeling she’s the only girl in the world that could get you and you knew it long before your head did.”
I was seething, storming out of the locker room and into a trainers room next door, quickly shutting the door behind me. What the fuck was Benny thinking bringing Sam up right before a game? I could handle thinking about a girl but Sam?
I angrily typed Finish Line dedication into google, freezing at the short paragraph that appeared as the top result.
Chart topper Finish Line by Y/N Y/L/N was notoriously written by Y/L/N in her senior year of highschool after the disappearance of her younger brother, Max. Max is presumed to have been abducted while walking home from a friends house. The music video of Finish Line states the song is “For Max & Sam” although Y/L/N has never stated who Sam is. Fans theorize “Sam” is a representation of all abduction victims however…
I immediately tapped on the youtube video of the song, scrolling all the way to the end, bottom lip wobbling as I read the stark white letters against the black background.
She never gave me the time of day back then yet she knew who I was, what it felt like to have a piece of you go missing and you couldn’t do anything about it. She put my baby brother in a song for her baby brother and we weren’t even friends.
I swallowed thickly, forcing myself to calm down. 
“Sammy,” I whispered, closing my eyes. “Is this a sign or something? Is she as fucked up as I am and the world doesn’t know it? Is that why she’s never been seen with a boyfriend her whole career? Did she shy away from connections when I buried myself in meaningless ones? Are we both so screwed up on the biggest stage in the world and that’s why I still feel breathless when I see her? Tell me I’m not crazy, Sammy. Tell me there’s a reason I’m still head over heels for this girl.”
I slowly opened my eyelids, staring at coach who was staring back at me on the other side of the room by the far entrance. I quickly cleared my throat and turned to leave, coach’s whistle stopping me in my tracks.
“I don’t know who the hell you’re talking about son, but my advice as someone who’s been married longer than you’ve been alive…you know when you fall in love. That’s the easy part. Admitting it and trying to get the balls to say it to her face is the harder part.”
“Sir, she doesn’t even know I exist. Or barely knows I do,” I said quietly. “I should-”
“Your little brother, god rest his soul, wants you to be happy, Winchester. So shoot your shot with this girl so you can stop having an existential crisis before my home opener, got it?” I glanced over my shoulder, coach’s face surprisingly soft for how close we were to game time. “She must be special to tame you.”
“She had me the whole time. The rest were me trying to forget.” He nodded, picking up his playbook again.
“Then go get this girl so you have your answer,” he said. “And stay out of my training room before games. Only place they can’t find me.”
“Yes sir.” I ducked back into the locker room, Benny gave me a raised eyebrow, silently asking if I was okay. I nodded and sat down to tie up my shoes, an idea sparking in my mind before I opened instagram. “Ben, take a picture of me.”
“Good god,” groaned Michael from my other side. “Like your insta doesn’t have enough shirtless selfies.”
He snagged my phone out of my hands, sighing as he took a photo of me smirking in my cubby.
“I regret being your friend,” he said, handing it back to me while Benny chuckled. 
“Same, Michael,” I smiled back before I was on insta and typing furiously. I posted before I could stop myself, Benny and Michael sharing a look and immediately going to their own phones. But they weren’t fast enough apparently.
“Winchester are you serious?” shouted Gabe from across the room, the whole team looking at their phones now.
“Yup,” I said, standing and tugging on my under armor v-neck, my shoulder pads and then my jersey. 
“You can’t force a girl to go out with you!” he shouted. 
“I’m not forcing. I’m offering a donation to her charity if she does feel inclined to go out with me,” I said with a shrug. Benny grabbed my shoulders, looking at me like I was crazy.
“Five million dollars? That’s not what I mean when I said impress her you idiot!” he said.
“That’s what the picture was for,” I said with a wink, my phone already buzzing non-stop at the incoming flood of texts and calls. “You think she’ll take me up on my offer?”
“This fucker’s really about to get a fucking date with Y/N Y/L/N through a fucking bribe,” said Michael, shaking his head. “Dude, you’re crushing so hard it’s in psycho territory.”
“One date is all I want,” I said, smiling when coach walked in, rolling his eyes at me. “Come on boys, time to focus on the game!”
Y/N POV
I was currently hiding in my bedroom, reading a book on Sunday evening, Eric doing his best to get my agent and manager and PR head out of the house without force. As expected, they’d reemed my ass out for not capitalizing on the Dean Winchester picture in the moment but I didn’t care. I didn’t care about hanging out with pretty fuck boys for publicity’s sake.
But I had followed him on my private account no one knew about. It’d taken a moment but I remembered who Dean Winchester was in our college days. He was flirty back then I remembered. And a good football player I guess. But I just remembered what happened in the spring semester, how the whole campus knew his pain before he had a chance to even process it.
My heart ached for a boy I’d said nothing more than a passing hello to at parties. 
I still felt that ache whenever I sang Finish Line. I’d never realized Dean went on to his own version of fame all those years ago. But I knew the hurt still existed in his heart. There was no healing it but some part of me wished I could soothe it for a moment. I forgot in the music sometimes. Maybe he could do the same when he played his games.
Maybe I really should have talked to him last night.
My phone buzzed and I saw a new post, this one of him making my jaw drop. “Hot damn you are good looking, Winchester.”
Then I shrieked when I looked at the caption.
DWinchester67 Hey @Y/NY/L/N it was fun running into you last night. How about you take me up on my offer and let me buy dinner for our first date? 
Oh and to sweeten the deal, I’ll donate five million dollars to your charity if you say yes (plus another million for each touchdown I throw tonight, those are freebies for ya). 
You got my number so waiting on you sweetheart. ;)
Eric was in the room before I could raise my head, eyes darting around the room before he determined there was no threat. 
“Jesus, girl. I swear if you saw a bug-”
“Dean Winchester asked me out. Publicly.” Eric narrowed his eyes as he tucked his gun back into the holster. 
“Okay…you made it clear to the team today you don’t want anything to do with a publicity stunt. What’s the problem?” You tossed the phone to the end of the bed, Eric sitting on the bench at the bottom to pick it up. He did a double take, eyes skirting to meet yours. “I’m doing a full background check on this man. He either really wants in your pants, to profit off you or he’s obsessive. To be honest, I don’t like any of those options.”
“Me either but five million dollars to the charity? Plus more? That could help kids, Eric. We could find a safe way to do this, right?” He pursed his lips, nodding once.
“One date at a place of my choosing. My team will be there in the background and I’m going to talk to this boy and let him know all of the ways I can kill him if he tries anything.” You smiled, Eric handing the phone back. 
“You’d kill your favorite football player for me. You’re too sweet Eric,” you chuckled. He stood up, adjusting his sports blazer.
“You know why I stuck with you when my agency assigned me to the Princess?” he asked, a dry laugh leaving his lips. “You always listened to me. You didn’t always agree but you listened and we could have conversations. We could have conversations about safety without you acting like a brat or me like an asshole. You respected me and that earned you loyalty all these years later.”
You stared your hands in your lap. “My parents lost one child. I don’t want them to lose another.”
You were surprised to find him come closer, sitting on the edge of the bed, turning to face you. He tucked your hair behind your ear, smiling softly. 
“Don’t lose hope now, kiddo. I’ve always admired that about you.” You looked away, Eric stroking your cheek with his thumb. “Someday we’ll find the truth. I promise.”
“My mom wishes it were me,” you said, shaking your head. “If I didn’t make my parents so much money I’d think they’d be plenty happy to let some crazy fan take me away forever. All because I was five minutes late to pick up Max and he decided to walk home.”
“Hey!” Eric gripped your shoulders hard, hard enough that you felt the strength of his hands down in your bones. He was always so gentle you with guiding touches here and there you often forgot he was as deadly with his hands as he was a weapon. 
You met his gaze, Eric sighing.
“That is not true and you know it.” His stern expression softened when you shook your head.
“She told me the day we had a funeral for him Max should have been there and I should have been the one missing. So I know, Eric.” He pulled you into a hug, letting you squeeze him tight.
“I know she did,” he whispered, your chin resting on his shoulder. “She has so many regrets from that time and knows what she said broke something with the two of you. But I have had countless conversations with them over the years. I know you trust me so trust me when I say, you are their world and it would destroy them to lose you. She always asks me if you’re happy because she says you put on your fake smile for her. She doesn’t blame you one bit for it.”
“I hate when you have points,” you said, closing your eyes, getting another squeeze from him. 
“Happy to help my buddy. So you don’t give up on Max yet, alright? Everyone else has. If he’s out there, he needs you to keep going for him.”
“No wonder your team adores you. Soft cuddly bear under all the threats of violence aren’t you?”
“It’s how I land so many chicks,” he chuckled. He kissed your temple and stood, cracking his back. “Respond back yes if you want to. Let me look into this Dean Winchester before you agree to anything else though.”
You hummed, clearing your throat when Eric was in the doorframe. “I-I do remember one thing about Dean in college. He had a younger brother Sam that went missing too. Never found him.”
Eric kept his back to you for a beat, nodding once. 
“Do you think Dean is a bad guy?”
“Gut check says no. Probably just wants a hookup,” he said before stepping out and pulling the door shut fast behind him. “Rowan, I swear to god you bother this girl tonight and I’ll shove my glock up your ass.”
“He asked her out! I need to talk to her!” he yelled back on the other side of the door. You sighed and put on your noise canceling headphones before going to instagram and tapping on his post. 
Y/NY/L/N @DWinchester67 One date. As friends Winchester
Not five seconds later you received a winking emoji and “friends” in response. 
“Dear god, you’re going to be a handful, Winchester.”
________
A/N: Read Part 2 here!
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kneelingshadowsalome · 11 months ago
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Okay but can we talk about how (besides turning on) it would be literally terrifying to have a 6'10 giant who is all muscle chase you around while being naked?? I imagine König getting this kinda 'look' when he wants to chase you, pupils blown out and eyes glazed over like a apex predator, his muscles moving and his cock giving small twitches bc it literally arouses him when you give him this doe-eyed, uneasy look :(
He's literally awful :/
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Look, this is the rebel angel I associate him with. Didn't receive enough attention so now he's making it everyone's problem :(
He may look like a big lost puppy when you first meet him, but that's only what König wants you to think. That's the notorious boyish charm he uses to lure you in, and when he sees you're his to play with as he pleases, the look in those "take me home I'm hungry and cold" eyes turns into a predatory stare. There's nothing there except this unhinged need to hunt, and you finally get why he wears the mask at work because it's usually accompanied with a devilish grin, just before he makes a lunge at you 😰
... Imagine being chased around the apartment by a 250 pound naked man who says he's going to breed you like a bull if he catches you (he's already breathless from excitement)
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seancekitsch · 6 months ago
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Hello!!! Good (Time of reading :p), could i request a lucifer x reader fic/headcanons (whatever fits) where the reader is new to hell and is way too nice for a place like this? They are in the hotel trying to get redeemed and to be safe.
If you need more ideas: reader cooking dinner for a tired lucifer
its a shortie but its cute!
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“Charlie, can you set me up with the new sinner? Lucifer had asked, “like on a date?”
He genuinely didn’t know what he was signing up for, certainly not a fully planned excursion through every sector of the ring. 
But you had politely bodied every challenge, not only endearing him to you, but also the rest of hell. 
You’d politely watched and cheered and clapped at the sex shows, you’d graciously accepted meals in cannibal town, avoided angering any turf wars on picnics and walks. It was like you were trying to score most popular in the Pride Ring. But Lucifer knew that wasn’t the case, he knew this was just you. Sweet you, polite you, undeserving of Hell you. 
“Do you like onions?” you call from the kitchen, shaking him from his thoughts.
“Onions are fine!” He calls, getting up to join you. The smells from the hotel kitchen are divine, your third meal together today being a midnight snack. Lucifer leans over the counter, looking at where you mix diced onion and tomato in a bowl with ease, humming a light tune. 
You turn towards him, a coy smile on your face as you wink at him, then jostle the bowl you’re stirring.
“What are you doing here?” Lucifer asks, his mouth moving faster than his mind. That’s a rude question to ask. Some Sinners are secretive, some are sensitive. The ones at his daughter’s hotel aren’t… but they’re also a little different. 
“Making salsa from scratch,” you answer nonchalant, reaching past him to grab a spice off the rack, “Tastes better that way. I figured you could magic us up some chips?”
You quirk an eyebrow at him, and he can’t help the way he feels his cheeks heat up. 
He chuckles, his hand rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly before a bowl of chips appears on the other side of the counter. 
“No I uh- I mean here, as in, you know,” he coughs, “Hell.”
You stir in chili flakes with a wooden spoon, but then stop when his words sink in. 
Shit, he thinks, I’ve fucked this up. 
“Well,” you clear your throat, “Thats a secret, Your Majesty.”
You’re toying with him.
“All I’ll say is that I have a good reason for being here.”
You usher him to try the salsa, and he gladly dips one of his chips into the bowl, scooping out a hefty portion. Lucifer lifts it to his lips, and the moment it reaches his tongue he’s reminded of Heaven. Not actual Heaven, not the feelings of hopelessness or frustration. The nostalgia of the joy he had when he was inventing, thousands of years ago. The experience of a product made with love. Maybe instead of an apple he should have tempted humanity with your salsa instead.
He’s a goner. 
You don’t ask him why he’s here, not in Hell, not in the hotel, not still making this date last almost twelve whole hours later. 
“Are you planning on a short stay?” He asks, silently praying for the first time in centuries to not get his hopes up.
“I’m trying to stay safe, at least until I decide,” there’s a secretive smile on your face, alluring and inviting. Lucifer wants to kiss you, wants to drop the first date gentleman act, wants to make a mess on the counter. But he won’t, and only because he doesn’t want to ruin your handiwork, and because he’s hungry. 
“It’s a good thing I can guarantee that while you’re making up your mind!” he reassures you, inching closer until his chest bumps your shoulder. 
You surprise him by leaning over, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. 
“I guess now if as good a time as any to tell you I’m notoriously indecisive then, hmm?”
Lucifer hopes you never make up your mind.
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bountycancelled · 3 months ago
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house of cards (a challengers au)
requested: no, but send challengers reqs I BEG !
warnings: none :)
content: tension I guess? readers kind of a go with the flow typa gyal, but the flow is sometimes manipulative and evil so... tashi and art both play (different games but they still play) patrick is a loser, but he's my loser so it's okay lowercase intended, unedited.
a/n: back after like a half year hiatus, and im on my challengers bullshit, hope you enjoy this cuz I wrote in a day lol
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"you know, sometimes it feels like you hate me." the words leave your lips before you can stop them, coming out of your mouth with the kind of instantaneous honesty you learnt during your many years around tashi. admiring her, envying her, loving her, and hating her all the same.
she raises an amused brow, the sides of her mouth quirking up in a half smile. she probably thinks it's funny, your train of thought. you're in her dorm right now, laying on her bed with your head rested against her shoulder while some episode of some show serves as background noise. and yet, you seem unsure that she even wants you here.
but the one thing you can count on tashi to know, is what she wants. so if she's sure that she doesn't hate you, you should be too. "I don't hate you. I love you, more than usual, honestly."
that shouldn't make your stomach flip in the way it does, but you've always been a little like a hungry dog waiting to be thrown a bone when it came to affection, from anyone really (a problem that you thought you were working on effectively, you weren't.) but mostly tashi, who's affection was about as rare as the sight of her not playing tennis. well, maybe that comparison was in poor taste after the injury, but anyway.
"why is that?" you hope you don't come off as eager as you are to hear what you've done to further place yourself in her good graces (you do, but don't worry, tashi thinks it's cute.)
"you're the only one who still plays tennis with me. real tennis." she nudges you off of her shoulder as she speaks, forcing you to look at her, leaving you to tackle that feeling that always seemed to arise whenever she was close. a feeling that would rather die that put a name to.
god, you were such a tryhard when it came to her. you let her tell you about her escapade with the notorious 'fire and ice' duo, art and patrick. you assured that it was totally okay to pit two friends against each other for the prospect of getting her, you nodded along when patrick came out victorious, and you comforted her when she eventually broke it off.
and the cherry on top of this absolutely miserable sundae of yours, you played exactly the same way you used to play with her, because you knew it was what she wanted, and anything she wanted, you'd give it to her.
and she knew that, of course. one of the reasons she kept you around.
she brought her face close to yours, so close, closer, closer... before turning your own face to plant a kiss on your cheek, deciding to pay attention to the show you two had put on her laptop, completely shattering what you thought had been a moment between you and her. not the first time she's done that, not the last time you'll think that.
you inhale and exhale deeply, willing yourself to not spend the whole night picking that last ten seconds of that interaction apart, trying to analyse if you were running on pure delusion, or if something had been there, between you two.
but you do anyway, and you don't come to a solid conclusion. when it comes to tashi, you never do.
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your run in with patrick is unexpected, but what is expected is just how fucking miserable he looks. you debate just leaving the diner all together, finding another place to eat. hell, not eating at all would be better than whatever conversation you could possibly have with the ex boyfriend of your best friend. the poor thing is still wearing that grey 'I told ya' shirt, and it's evident that he isn't taking any of this well.
you understand both of them, patrick blames himself (it's not his fault, at least not to you) and tashi needed someone to blame. there's a small part of you thats just glad you weren't the one that she chose, but it's small, and the bigger parts of you just want to pull patrick into a hug, but you're unsure of how appropriate that would be. unsure of if he would even want that from you. because you're not actually on his side, you'd never be on the side opposing tashi, and patrick knows that.
that doesn't stop his eyes from lighting up in hopeful recognition as he spots you awkwardly lingering by the entrance, and now you have to go and sit with him because you are not about to kick a dog while it's down. you flag down a waiter and order for yourself, turning to face him with a pensively worried expression.
"are you... okay?"
patrick laughs at your words, not because he thinks it's funny that you ask. (even in the event that you're just pretending to care, he's just thankful that you humoured him by sitting down) he laughs because he knows that you know that he's not. even if the two of you were strangers, you'd sense his misery from the second you entered and took one look at him.
"never better. foods here." he changes the topic swiftly, and you're starving, so you don't try to redirect it, stuffing your face almost as unapologetically as he is. but once the food finishes and you await the bill, you take another long look at him, and the sadness in his eyes make your heart ache.
you don't owe anything to patrick, but for whatever reason, you find yourself reaching for his hand, holding it in your own and giving it a comforting squeeze, smiling back at him sympathetically when he flashes you a grateful half smile.
maybe it's the unique circumstances of the breakup, or his sad brown eyes, or that one time you two played a "friendly" game right before him and tashi got together (the looks he gave you from across the court would be misplaced, but tennis was intrinsically sexy, and so was patrick, so you tried not to overthink it. tried.)
or maybe it's the emalgumation of every look that would make you squint curiously at him, every casual touch that would last too long because patricks patrick, every tipsy kiss on the cheek, or shoulder squeeze, but after you two leave the diner (he pays, and you feel bad about it, but don't comment further.) but when you face each other outside the establishment, the sunset painting the sky, you pull him into a hug.
the hug feels... far too intimate for two friends (were you still friends? you weren't sure.) but, whatever. he's hurt, grieving the loss of someone that would surely break you if you lost them and the loss of his own best friend, so you're not gonna judge. he wraps his arms around you slowly, hiding his face away in the crook of your neck, holding you so gently that a passerby would think that you're the one being comforted.
you tell him to call you if he ever feels lonely, immediately regretting your language because it sounds like you wanna fuck him, but he understands what you meant. and then, you say your goodbyes.
you don't tell tashi about that interaction. and you don't think you will.
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your run in with art isn't intentional, but he's grateful for it.
he knows that you and tashi usually run drills together at the courts on saturdays, its not crowded since everyone is in their dorms trying to piece themselves together after a shitty week. but he also knows that tashi needs to rest right now, so you'd most likely be alone. but he doesn't strike then, the racket in your hand will make you too focused, he knows that all too well. you'd be giving him one word answers, barely paying him any mind and probably wanting him to fuck off as soon as possible.
so while he's wracking his brain, thinking of another opportunity to find a way in with you, because being closer to you meant being even closer to tashi, he's seconds away from getting on his knees and praising the gods above when he sees in the cafeteria, alone.
him being there for her when the injury happened was simply happenstance, and he was lucky in a roundabout sort of way, getting to comfort tashi and hopefully building a good image of himself in your mind, because you were there too, of course.
but that wouldn't cut it. he needed to be truly in with you, and he needed a new best friend anyway, he'd basically sold his last one off, so this was a two birds, one stone kind of situation.
you don't look up when art sits in front of you. because one, you know its him, he has the nervous kind of energy whenever he's around you, different to the kind of nervous energy he has when tashis around, but you can still sniff him out regardless. and two, you're still feeling shitty about that whole... thing with patrick, too shitty to care that blondies over here in front of you, trying to get in with tashi.
"they stale or something?" he asks, his smile stupidly warm and inviting as he points towards the cheese fries on your plate, completely untouched. you shoot air through your nose, smiling despite yourself before giving him a response. "no, I'm just grappling with the fact that I'm a shitty friend, and maybe even a shitty person in general."
he hums, holding his hand towards your tray as a silent question, and you push it towards him nonchalantly, letting him take what he wants. he feels way too good about a simple tray, but something about you sharing your food gives him hope that you haven't completely ruled him out.
"well, think about it this way. the average person needs to have at least one of these traits in order to be liked. talent, kindness or looks. you're a fucking beast on that court, and you're gorgeous, so you don't even need to worry about being a good person." it's easy to butter you up a bit, because the words he's saying are true, and he had a feeling that telling you what he honestly felt was the route to go with.
you roll your eyes at his words, but the compliment makes you bite back a smile. you're only human, after all, and not even you are invincible to the charms of one art donaldson.
but you keep your cool, waiting for the inevitable of him bringing up tashi, with the obligatory acting like that wasn't why he sat with you in the first place. but it comes later in the conversation than you thought it would, he asks if she's doing any better, and you answer with an honest 'no.'
maybe this is just another one of his tactics, pretending that he's fully interested in getting to know you with no tashi shaped ulterior motive. but it works. because you end up talking over your now empty tray for a while, so long that you're late to your next class.
the look that he gives you when you leave is one of longing, but it was a specific kind longing, one linked to tashi. that's what art tells himself too, as he watches you walk away.
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