#bloodhounds x female reader

[sluttywonwoo]

love the heat || h.wj

pairing: hong woojin x reader

summary: you indulge your boyfriend in his biggest fantasy

warnings: swearing, blood mentions, smut (18+ ; minors dni)

additional warnings: a lil exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), face sitting, cumming untouched, absolute pussy fiend woojin

word count: 3.2k

“Hey, Champ!” 

Your voice echoing throughout the empty gym makes Woojin perk up and turn around, eyes searching the arena for you. He spots you by the door and his face lights up. His trainer, on the other hand, looks significantly less enthusiastic about your unannounced appearance. Woojin doesn’t seem to notice, though. He beckons you over, lifting the ropes so you can duck into the ring with him. 

He wraps you into a hug, despite your protests of him being sweaty, and only releases you once you return his embrace. 

“Don’t call me champ when you know I got my ass handed to me yesterday,” he mumbles. 

“You’re my champion. Doesn’t that count for anything?” you ask.

“Of course it does,” Woojin surrenders momentarily, swooping down to kiss you chastely on the lips. “But ranking first in your heart doesn’t do much for sponsors.”

You put your hands on your hips, trying to look stern. “Weren’t you only practicing yesterday? What’s with the dramatics? It’s not like it was a televised fight.”

“And even so, Geonwoo still hit me so hard I blacked out for a couple seconds.”

“He what?”

Woojin hadn’t mentioned that part last night in the debrief of his day he always gives you when he calls to say goodnight. 

He shrugs it off. “It was an accident. He didn’t mean to hit me that hard.”

You frown, cupping his face to get a better look at the damage. “And he split your lip? Jesus, Woo, do I need to have a chat with him?”

“No, no. It’s fine, babe. It happens all the time.”

“Still, he needs to be gentler when you’re just sparring. I don’t want to taste blood every time I kiss you.”

“I guess only one of us doesn’t mind the taste of blood,” Woojin quips with a smirk, pulling you closer to him by slipping two fingers into a belt loop on your jeans. 

“Woo!” you scold, shoving him away. You nod in the direction of his trainer who is still standing less than ten feet from the both of you.

He holds up his hands defensively. “What! I was talking about my own blood.”

“Yeah, ok,” you mutter before turning to the other man in the ring. “Hi, Jimmy.”

He nods. “Always a pleasure.”

You manage to keep yourself from snorting at the blatant exaggeration, if not flat-out lie, and nod politely back to him. 

“I’ll be over on the bench until you’re finished,” you say. 

“I can be finished right now,” Woojin blurts.

“No, you can’t be. I heard Jimmy saying ‘three more sets’ when I walked in. And you have to cool down after.”

Your boyfriend’s smile wanes but his trainer mouths a silent thank you to you behind his back. 

“I’ll make them quick, then,” he promises. 

“I’m not in a rush.”

“Well, I am,” Woojin murmurs, pulling you close again. “You smell nice, by the way.”

You drop your voice to a whisper and will yourself to take a step back. It’s so tempting to just yank him out of the ring and drag him to your car but you’re the one with more restraint between the two of you so you have to keep it together for both of your sakes. “Keep it in your pants, Hong. I’ll be over there.”

He pouts. “You’re not going to give me a kiss for good luck?”

“Isn’t this just practice?” 

“Wow, so you hate me.” 

“Yes, that’s exactly the conclusion you were meant to draw from that,” you deadpan. 

“Can I get a kiss or not?” 

“Yes, you can. But next time just ask for one. Don’t use luck as an excuse.” 

Woojin opens his mouth, you predict to argue back about how he had done no such thing, but you kiss him before he can get a word out. He lets out a surprised “hmph!” before relaxing his lips against your own. You pull away before he can take it any further, smiling only a little at the whine that escapes him when you do.

“Good luck, Champ.”

-

Woojin does fight better when you’re around. He’s always called you his good luck charm, and honestly, you thought he was full of shit at first. He was just a good fighter, period. His talent didn’t have anything to do with you. But then you had to take a trip overseas for a few weeks a couple of months into your relationship and you changed your mind. 

His matches were televised so you watched all of them, setting your alarm for ungodly hours or simply pulling all-nighters to be able to tune in live. 

The first fight you weren’t able to go to went horribly. You almost had to stop watching because of how bad Woojin looked by the end of it. You still remember crying to him over the phone about it afterward. 

You thought it was a fluke. Everyone has bad days. Then the pattern continued. The other matches weren’t as bad as the first one, thankfully. Woojin even won some of them. But he was off his game the whole time. 

Geonwoo told you he had never seen anything like it. He had never seen his best friend so... distracted before. 

Both boys begged you to come home as soon as possible. And when you did, his streak of bad luck immediately ended. 

He won the title of the first tournament you were back for. It was the first and only time he’s beaten Geonwoo, who tackled him in a hug as soon as the ref called the match. Woojin had to physically push his best friend off to get to you. Geonwoo was almost offended until he saw you standing behind him, waiting for your boyfriend’s attention. It was not the first nor would it be the last time Geonwoo forgot about your existence. You don’t mind, mostly. It’s only ever for a second and he always apologizes profusely. 

Your presence hasn’t affected his performance that dramatically since then, but he does fight better when you’re there cheering him on. It’s proven when you hear a punch land with a resounding “oof” from Jimmy, and a comment from the trainer about how he’d finally gotten past his block. Jimmy lets your boyfriend off a couple of minutes early, evidently tired from the beating he was taking. Woojin rounds the benches where you’re sat, grinning at you like he’s just won the lottery. 

“Ready to go?” you ask, handing him a towel.

“Just about,” he answers as he wipes the sweat from his face. “Gotta hit the showers first. Wanna join?”

You scoff, peeking over his shoulder to make sure Jimmy hadn’t heard him. “This is a public space.”

Woojin checks his watch and smirks. “Only for about seven more minutes. Then it’s closed. It’ll be all ours.”

You roll your eyes. “Except you’re not the one with the keys to lock up, Jimmy is. Do you really think he’ll want to hear that?” 

“He won’t mind.”

“He most definitely will.” You push Woojin’s thigh with your knee. “Now hurry up. The faster you shower, the faster we can get out of here.”

-

You picked up takeout on the way back to the apartment Woojin shares with Geonwoo. There was enough food for all three of you and now the empty containers lay on the coffee table, long forgotten as the credits to the movie you’d put on in the background roll. 

Geonwoo had already gone to bed. He left halfway through, claiming to be too tired to watch the whole thing. You knew he had probably looked up the ending on Wikipedia and decided he’d rather play games in his room instead but you didn’t question him when he dipped.

“What do you want to watch next, babe?” Woojin asked as he gathered up all of the plasticware and rinsed it out in the sink. 

“Whatever,” you answered noncommittally from where you were laying on the couch. 

“Are you feeling tired, baby?” Woojin asks once he’s returned from sorting the containers for recycling. He kneels by the couch, petting your hair gently.

You shake your head. “Not really.”

“No?”

“Uh-uh.”

“What’s on your mind, then?”

“Something like this.”

You lift your head from the sofa’s armrest and lean forward, meeting Woojin with a kiss. He hums against your mouth like he’s pleasantly surprised and deepens it without further question. You let him slip his tongue into your mouth, moaning as he cradles the back of your head with one of his hands. It gets heated fast. One second you’re laying down on the couch making out, the next you’re on the living room floor with your boyfriend who’s working a hand down your pants. 

“Wait, wait, wait- Geonwoo is home, babe,” you whisper after breaking away from his embrace. 

Woojin looks mildly miffed, curls in disarray as he pouts at you. “So? He’s in his room.”

“Yeah, and his room is right there,” you hiss, looking over your shoulder at his door.

“He’s asleep.”

“We don’t know that.”

“He said he was going to sleep,” Woojin points out. “Are you uncomfortable out here? Because we can go somewh-”

“No, it’s not that, I’d just feel bad if he suddenly walked in on us.”

Woojin shrugs. “He’s seen worse.”

“That’s not the point. You know that’s not the point.”

“It’s not like he doesn’t hear us going at it when we’re in my room. We share a wall.”

Well, that was a slightly mortifying bit of information that you had not previously been aware of. You knew they shared a wall, obviously, but you hadn’t thought about the way sound traveled through said wall. And now that you were thinking about it, you could hear Geonwoo yelling at his game sometimes. Fuck. 

You scramble to your knees and push yourself back onto the couch. Woojin puts a hand on either of your thighs and spreads them apart, looking up at you 

“It’s a little hot if you think about it,” he says. You purse your lips. “Look at you, you can’t even deny it!”

“Just get up here.”

You don’t give him a chance to make another snarky comment before you’re yanking him up by the collar of his T-shirt and kissing him again. Woojin doesn’t protest. He simply makes a sound of satisfaction against your mouth, like he’d won. 

There’s a bit of push and pull. You trying to tug him up onto the couch, him trying to drag you down back onto the floor. But the game of tug of war persists for just a moment before your boyfriend overpowers you and pulls you onto his lap. You knew he had only been humoring you for the sake of the bit.  

“Baby?” he asks when you start to kiss his neck, sounding a little breathless. 

“Hm?”

“Will you sit on my face?”

You pause and sit up properly to look him in the eyes. “What?”

He swallows thickly, looking desperate. “Sit on my face, please?”

Woojin loves your pussy. Loves the taste of it, to be more specific. He loves the feeling too, of course, but he’s spent hours with his head in between your legs making you see God over and over again. He eats you out every single time you have sex. He eats you out even when you don’t have sex sometimes, just because he’s craving you on his tongue. 

But you’ve never sat on his face. In all the months you’ve been dating it just hasn’t come up. He’s had you in practically every way possible except for this one. 

“Please, baby. Don’t make me beg.”

He was kind of already begging but you weren’t going to point that out. You looked towards Geonwoo’s door again and then back at Woojin.

“Here?”

“Yeah, right here,” he pats the spot on the floor. “Just get on top of me.” 

“Alright, help me get my pants off.”

You’re still in your outfit from work because you don’t like to change before you shower and you don’t like to shower unless you’re going to be in bed for the rest of the night. You’ve argued about Woojin eating you out after a full day of work before but he insists that he could not give less of a fuck about the state your pussy is in as long as it’s in his mouth. 

You only let him do it because you know he means it and he makes you cum so hard that you can’t even find it within yourself to be self-conscious. 

Your work slacks are tight but Woojin manages to get them off in record time. He folds them neatly and places them on the couch before getting into position and motioning for you to join him. 

You wiggle out of your underwear and set them on top of your pants. Woojin’s already on his back but he props himself up on his elbows to get a better look at you. He smirks as you step over him, straddling his waist with your ankles instead of your thighs. 

“You look so fucking hot like that,” he mutters. “Kind of just want to watch you stand there and look disappointed in me all night.”

You scoff. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously in love with you.” He winks and clicks his tongue.

“You’d really rather do this instead of... the other thing?”

“I never said that! I’d rather do the other thing. Definitely the other thing.” You snort and shake your head at him. “But we can file this away for another day?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is what I want.”

“But what you want more...”

“Is for you to sit on my face, yes. So come here.”

-

Woojin knows you’re not teasing him on purpose, but it definitely feels like you are. You’re still out of reach, hovering hesitantly above his mouth. You seem nervous so he doesn’t rush you but he’s dying for it. 

It also seems like you don’t quite know what to do with yourself. He thinks about asking you if you’ve ever done this before but then he decides he would rather not know the answer to that question. 

“Here, baby,” he murmurs and puts his hands on your hips to guide you down onto him. 

“Remember, tap me twice if you can’t breathe or something,” you remind him. 

He won’t need to do that but he nods in acknowledgment to ease your mind if nothing else. 

Woojin coaxes you down a little further, close enough for him to taste you if he cranes his neck so that’s what he does. He lifts his head and sticks out his tongue to trace the shape of you. Immediately, you shudder and Woojin uses your clumsiness against you. He raises his shoulders as soon as he feels your legs begin to shake which makes you lose your balance and fall onto him completely.

Your boyfriend moans into you, making you whimper in turn. He’s instantly convinced this is what heaven feels like. All of his senses have been overtaken by you. All he can taste, smell, see, and feel is you. And all he can hear are the sweet sounds of pleasure he knows you’re trying to hold back. 

You’re sort of just sitting there on his face, and to be fair that’s what he’d asked you to do but he knows it would feel even better for you if you moved a bit so he encourages you to rock your hips by pushing on your ass. You get the message and start to grind down on him, earning praise in the form of a thumbs-up.  

“Fuck, so wet,” he compliments, hoping you can understand him. 

“Yeah, well you know what watching you box does to me,” you sigh defensively. 

Woojin tries not to smirk because he knows you’d be able to feel it but he can’t help himself. You smack his shoulder in retaliation. Yeah, that’s pretty much what he thought would happen.

“Taste so good, baby. Thank you. Than- mph!”

You’d threaded your fingers into his hair and yanked him by it, using your newfound control to push his face even deeper into your cunt. 

“Fuck yes... does it feel good?”

“Feels fucking incredible, Woo. How are you so good at this?”

Woojin doesn’t want to admit that it’s all he’s thought about since he met you. Doesn’t want to share the fantasies that have kept him up at night with a hand around his cock, sometimes with you sleeping right next to him. He’s wanted you to ride his face since before you started dating, and once he’d actually tasted you, it was over for him. Just like it’s over for him now.

He doesn’t think he’s ever been this hard in his entire life. It hurts and he’s been thrusting into nothing for several minutes now, and he’s almost certain his sweats are already ruined with the amount of precum he’s leaking. 

He loses the ability to speak when he starts fucking you with his tongue but he figures his mouth is being put to better use like this anyway. Besides, you do enough talking for both of you. You’re still trying to keep your voice down since Geonwoo is in the next room but it ultimately doesn’t matter because the most obscene sounds in the room are coming from Woojin making out with your pussy.

His nose nudges your clit over and over each time you glide over it like it’s a credit card, and it makes him wonder what it would feel like for you to ride his nose. He’s gotten a few compliments on the shape of his nose so he’s confident that it would feel good for you but in order to do that you would have to turn around and he’s enjoying having his tongue inside of you way too much to give that up. 

“Woo, fuck,” you gasp suddenly.

Your thighs squeeze tighter around his head and he whines, wishing it were somehow possible for you to crush his skull and still live.

“Close?”

“Yes, I’m right there, don’t stop...”

He holds you down as you cum, absolutely drowning himself in the arousal that gushes from you as you do. He laps up as much of it as he can, but he can’t quite get all of it and what’s left runs down the sides of his face onto the rug beneath him. He can’t find it within him to care, aside from being slightly jealous of the carpet.

You’re saying something but all he can hear is white noise as his body goes taut and then relaxes. When he comes to, you’ve already climbed off of him and are laying on the floor spent. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he sighs.

You lift your head curiously. “Did you just-”

“Yeah.” 

He grimaces and sits up to assess the damage. His sweatpants have a dark wet spot right over his dick. Predictable. He hadn’t wanted to cum like that but it was simply unavoidable. Anyone in his position would have done the same thing. Probably. 

“The rug,” you groan, staring at the stain.

“I’ll send it off to be cleaned,” Woojin assures you. 

“You don’t have rug cleaning money!”“Then I’ll clean it myself. There’s a twenty-four-hour convenience store down the street. We can go there to get the stuff. After we do that again.”

finally finished this bad boy ;-; lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

bloodhounds tags: @sluttywoozi @kimanniexxx @icyb3rry

[dadyscumslutprincess20]

Hey I wanna request a bloodhound/Kim gunwoo smut

When he goes hardcore: when he is so turned on by your actions which are not even sexual that he goes hard on you fucking you on the possible place he can like shower, kitchen countertop, bed, wall. Can you add some kinks like hair pulling choking

Kim Gunwoo X fem reader

Genre: Smut

Warning ⚠️: Rough sex , Hair pulling , choking

Walking down the road as it was a sunny day, birds chirping as the roads were now crowded with lively people as you held a smile on your face coming to a stop as you turn and head inside a new by clothing store

It was around 1:00 pm and you decided to go out for a stroll inside of being bored in the house on a nice day , luckily you brought your purse as one of your hands was now filled with bags from different brands of clothing most being for Gunwoo while only one bag was yours

Once you were inside the store as you head further inside making sure to look around the store as you noticed it was a clothing store for women as you continue looking around the store a bit more as your eyes land on a nightgown

It was [your favorite color] with sliver rhinestones around the chest part that showed off your breast cleavage , it had two straps that went one your shoulders quickly heading for the nightgown as you look for your size

After finding your size giving your self a smile as you head for a changing room making sure to knock before entering and closing the door behind you as you lock the door putting down the bags that you held in your hand

Once you placed the bags in the small bench sit that was in the small changing room , looking at your reflection in the mirror as you quickly take off your clothes before carefully slipping on the nightgown

Eyes widening a bit .. it stop mid thigh but it showed off your curves perfectly, nodding your head in satisfaction with a small smile before taking off the dress and putting back on your clothes after you were dressed you grab your bags along with the nightgown

Heading out of the changing room as you head for the register since there wasn’t much people here as it was a expensive store watching the lady as she carefully rings up your nightgown before placing it in a bag and handing it to you

Once you payed for the nightgown as you take the bag from the women heading outside as you signal a nearby taxi quickly getting inside the taxi as you give him your address once you were inside sitting your bags beside you as you look out the window as the taxi pulls off

Taking out your phone as you unlock your phone heading for your messages as you notice that Gunwoo had texted you just a few minutes ago , tapping on the message as you see he would be home a around in a hour or two

Sending him a quick ok before locking you phone as you place it back in your pocket , after a few minutes of the taxi driver driving you finally arrived at home taking out the cash as you pay the driver making sure to give him a tip before grabbing your bags and getting out the taxi

Closing the taxi door as you head for the front door quickly taking out your key as you place it in the lock before opening the door as you step inside closing the door behind you , heading for your bedroom that was down the hall front he entrance making sure to take fr your stores before entering the house fully

Placing the bags on your shared bed as you take out the nightgown heading for the bathroom as you turn on the warm water in the shower , placing the nightgown on the sinks counter before grabbing a clean towel and dry towel for the closet in the bathroom as you strip from your clothes placing them in the bin as you step inside the shower sliding the glass door closed carefully

Letting out a satisfied sigh as the warm water runs downs your body steeping closer towards the water as you let it run down your face and hair before stepping back , after a couple minutes of letting the water run down your body before grabbing the bar bar of soap

Putting your towel under the water as it slow soaks from the warm water before putting the bar of soap in your towel , once your towel was soapy enough for you taking the bar and putting in aside as you start to clean your body before finishing it us set the water

Once you cleaned yourself 2-3 more times as you turn off the water opening the glass sliding door as you carefully step out of the shower taking the towel as you start to dry your body with the towel decking to let your hair air dry , once you were complete dry throwing your used towel in the wash bin before grabbing your night gown quickly putting it on

Once you were dressed you head back in your room not caring to wear a bra or underwear since only you and Gunwoo lived here heading for your dress as you take out a pair of socks placing them on your feet before closing the dresser and taking your lotion fork the top of it putting a good amount in your hands before rubbing the lotion in your arms and legs

Placing the lotion bottle back in the dresser as you take a bottle of perfume before straying yourself a bit putting it back in the dress soon talking your deodorant and putting it under your arms

Once your were down you head down stairs as you head for the kitchen going toward the fridge as you take out the left overs from last night , putting a few skillets on the stove as you start to warm up the food

After ebt thing was warmed up you set up the table along with two plates , spoons and chopsticks for both you and Gunwoo it was only a few minutes before he would be here as you head back for the stove as you take the steak you had on the stove making sure to turn it every once and a while so it wouldn’t burn

Taking the steak from the skillet as you cut it to long thin pieces before placing it on a plate taking the plate and sitting it on the table , heading back to the kitchen as you grab a bottle of wine sitting it on the furthest counter so you wouldn’t knock it down as you head back for the other counter

Looking up at the cabinet that was above the counter since you and Gunwoo didn’t have any kids yet you didn’t own a stool so sadly you always had to climb the counter hoping your small frame didn’t fall

Sighing a bit as you start to carefully climb the counter making sure not to fall once you were on the counter using your hands to try the keep your nightgown down as you open the cabinet taking out two wine glasses as you place them in the counter before carefully trying to get down

As you were trying to get down you didn’t see that Gun woo was in the kitchen door frame and neither did you feel the gown slowly rising up your thighs as the bottom of your ass was now exposed since you didn’t wear underwear , it wasn’t like it was something new you never wore underwear once you were home it was just a innocent habit of yours that you had even before you met Gunwoo

Biting the content of his lip as his eyes watch your every move , he didn’t know why but anything you did make him feel a way and it was new to him yet he liked every bit of it ..it was the first time someone get along a girl would get angry at him if he didn’t eat , take care of himself even get enough sleep

It came to a pint where you made him move in with you making sure he ate at least three times a day letting him know every morning to come back home for lunch if he’s not to busy , you were so innocent in his eyes never knowing what was going on always looking like a lost puppy

Smirking a bit as he slowly head for you stopping behind you as he holds you waist keeping your upper part of your body on the counter as you legs dangled off the edge as you feel his clothed member press against you ass that was expose from your nightgown as you jump a bit from the sudden action

“G-Gunwoo..” reader says in a soft voice innocently as you don’t know what he was doing thinking he would help you down

“Hmm” Gunwoo hums in your ear sending shivers down you spine as you feel one of his hand move from your waist grabbing one of your legs as he places it on top of the counter causing you to be confused

“What are you doing Gunwoo.. help me down” reader says in a innocent voice as you look over you shoulder at Gunwoo ..body becoming stiff as you see his eyes darken as you become more confused

You didn’t know why he was acting like this since he didn’t act like this much you only lived together for a month now and he never acted this way .. it was new to you as you become worried a bit thinking something was wrong before you could say anything you feel hi hand remove from your leg after a few seconds you hear his pants and belt hit the floor causing your eyes to widen

As you soon realize what was happening .. it wasn’t like you didn’t have sex before , you had sex only three times and every time you felt as if it was harder for you to take Gunwoo , looking at Gunwoo over your shoulder once again as you look at him with pleading eyes hoping he would let you free this once but he didn’t

Instead he freed his harden cock from his boxers as you hear his cock slap against his abdomen as it was free from his boxers gabbing his cock in his hands as he stormed it a bit biting at his lip before lining himself at the entrance of your wet hole before pushing his whole 9 inches in your small soaked cunt

Letting out a loud gasp as you try to grab anything but to no avail since you were on the kitchen counter as you let out a loud moan feeling as you become soaked with each of Gunwoo fast yet deep thrust as he lets out a loud groan

Keeping a tight hold on your waist with his hand as he uses his free hand to reach for your hair tangling his hands in your hand as he grabs a hand full of you hair pulling your small figure towards his clothed chest as he licks your ear before letting out a deep chuckle causing your soaked cunt to tighten around his hard cock as he pushes his cock deeper in your walls as your eyes roll back

“ Your so innocent yet so dirty” Gunwoo says as he lets out a groan feeling you tighten from his words

“M-more …G-Gun-Gunwoo” reader moans out loudly as you feel his hand move from your waist as it moves towards your soaked pussy as he runs your clit at a fast pace as you mouth falls open , breath getting caught in your throat

Pushing your body back on the counter still holding your hair in a tight grip causing your back to arch as you let out a loud moan as you feel Gunwoo’s cock kissing your cervix with every fast thrust he did as you start to feel a knot forming in your stomach

“C-close ..G-Gunwoo” reader moans out as Gunwoo gives you a deep chuckle as he picks up his ice strokes soon becoming sloppy as you claw at the counter top soon feeling the knot snap in your stomach as you wet juices cover Gunwoo’s cock and lower abdomen causing him to groan as he thrust faster soon releasing his load deep in side you before pulling out turning your shaky form as he pick you up heading for the room

“Round two , yeah” Gun woo says with a evil grin

[lala-lolly]

Bloodhounds

Kim Geonwoo x Gn!Reader (anyone can read, no race/color/ethnicity, age, gender or physical appearance specified)

Argument with Kim Geonwoo (Gunwoo) as best friends

We all know Geonwoo is a very nice and respectful man

We all also know Geonwoo is very protective over his loved ones and that includes his friends

What happens when he gets into an argument with one of his best friends?

It all started because you felt that Geonwoo kept blowing you off to spend more time with Woojin

You two were suppose to hang out but he kept saying the same thing every time, "Sorry Y/n, Woojin and I already have plans. Sorry."

Like okay maybe two times is fine but FIVE?!

What was so important about what him and Woojin had planned that he couldn't make time for you?

When you confront Geonwoo about it, he doesn't say anything at first, just makes uncomfortable noises

He may know how to handle himself and stand up for himself and others but you are one of his best friends

After you finish rambling about how he's been making you feel, he finally says something

Geonwoo would feel guilty and apologize for making you feel that way because obviously that wasn't his intention

He wouldn't give you a clear explanation as to why he's been spending so much time with Woojin but he keeps saying that it's safer that way and that it will be over soon

This would make you more frustrated because what does that even mean, right?

You would keep pushing until he told you what he was talking about but all that made him do was snap

Geonwoo has always been known as a calm and collected person even when faced with confrontation so when he started to raise his voice it made you scared

When he seen your face, he realized what he did and immediately started to apologize profusely

You walked away to catch a break and get some air. That break lasted three days

You finally decide to talk to him and he explains everything to you and apologizes again

Woojin also ends up apologizing for stealing him away from you and keeping you in the dark about everything that had been going on

When you all finish making up, they offer you to treat you to some pork belly and kimchi fried rice at Woojin's aunt's restaurant

A/N~ I'm so sorry if this is bad or not what you wanted. Remember this is my first time writing something like this so if you feel I need to or should change something let me know. Hope you enjoyed. Also if you a story version of this where there's more context or in depth then let me know.

Keep dreaming~~💚💙

~ Lala-Lolly 🌆☁️🍭

[judysxnd]

Your gallery dating Jimmy Pop — tour edition

I’m starting with this, I don’t have a lot of pictures of him so it will not be going very far, but if you do, oh pleeeeaase send me some!!!

I am obsessed with him you have no idea, but I am not yet comfortable writing an entire fanfiction about him. Just little preferences like that I think. 😊

Okay but if you have any idea about him also, stuff to write, like how he would act in certain situation, I haven’t quite figured him out yet so please do!!! I don’t bite 😊

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You took this photo in the hotel room. It was in the middle of the night, no one was sleeping, not feeling tired. Too much excitement. It was the first night going on tour, you were all drinking, celebrating the moment, so no one was tired. You eventually went back to each other’s hotel bedroom, trying to calm down as it was very late. You took this picture when you both laid down, talking, joking and such.

On tour again, Brazil this time. You had the chance to go with them and you were very thankful. The concerts were at the end of the day, so between rehearsals you could get in tourist mode and explore the city you were in. You couldn’t be in Rio de Janeiro and not go to the statue. It resulted in this picture. James took one of you too but it ended up to be so blurry that it was useless. You teased him for days that he couldn’t take one decent picture.

One picture for every country you visited on tour. It was the first night you arrived in China (Japan? I can’t determine) . You all drove to the place where the concert would take place to get familiar and ended up exploring the city at night because you were all jet lagged. It was the most fun night you had. You were so tired that not of you could form one sentence without making a mistake, you all sounded drunk as hell, even though you weren’t (a miracle).

This one is on stage. Of course you’re in front, vip spot for being James’ girl. Since you took this picture you cannot live without thinking about it. You love it so much. He is so focused, he is just so hot. The cap (big weakness), it’s just small things all together. You always love seeing him doing what he loves, what he wants, just enjoying his life. And damn, he always looked sexy playing the guitar.

And here we are backstage. You put out the camera to take a picture. You were all sitting around, talking about random stuff. He laughed. “Why are you always taking pictures?” He asked jokingly. “Memories” you always answered. He smiled shyly which resulted with this picture. One of your favorite. (Again the cap omg)

You were at airport, getting frustrated because one of your luggage couldn’t pass for whatever reason. You stayed there for hours, had to take another plane. It was late at night. But as we all know James, he is always making everyone laugh. You were holding the camera in your hand, staring at the people in front of you trying to solve the problem as quickly as possible. James jumped in front of you before making the cheesiest joke just to earn at least a smile from you. “You’re not taking a picture? That’s a memory I want to remember” he joked. You rolled your eyes. He posed like that, so you took this picture. You were going to laugh about it, just not yet.

[mannequinreligi0n]

Mating Season

get bred, loser

pairing: dante x reader (female anatomy, gn pronouns)

wc: 2.2k

warnings: NSFW - breeding kink, monster-fucking, blood/blood play

author’s note: i’ve been meaning to write this for so long but unfortunately i am a depressed adult with a full time job, and finding time/energy to write is difficult :’) sorry if this isn’t up to standards or there’re mistakes. enjoy, smooches.

links: ao3

Twelve missed calls, six voicemails, and twenty-three texts from Dante is what you’re greeted with upon waking up - and it’s barely noon. Scrolling through the texts, you’re met with the ramblings of a madman, pleading for you to come over, to see him, to cancel your plans for the day. With a quick shower and change of clothes, you oblige in his wanton demands and head over to the loft.

You only manage a single knock before the door swings open and Dante is dragging you inside by the sleeve of your sweater.

“Dante! The hell has gotten into-“

”No time. Don’t ask.”

He pulls you straight into his bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. Throwing you over his shoulder, he launches you onto the bed with a ‘thump’, your smaller form springing on the mattress. Dante reels over you, snatching your coat off and ducking his head into the curve of your neck with a deep inhale, nose sniffing your skin like a damn bloodhound.

”You showered,” he mopes, teeth pulling at the fragile skin of your throat. You squirm under the weight of him, hands pushing at his chest to levitate some of the burden.

”Yeah, so what?’

“You weren’t supposed to - I said not to. Did you even read my texts?”

”Dante, you’re being ridiculous. Do you even hear yourself?” You lift your head up to look at him, pushing him off of you. Dante makes a sad whine, a demeaning sound coming from the devil hunter. His messy locks flop down in front of his face and he lets out a long sigh, hands pawing at the fabric of your pants.

”I’m sorry, babe. God, you don’t have any idea how hard this has been without you,” he mumbles sheepishly, eyes fixated on the faint red mark he left on your neck. His hands trembled against your legs, clearly trying to hold himself back in order to have a coherent conversation with you. “I thought I could handle this alone, but I keep thinking about last week…how warm you felt, like that pretty little hole was made just for me,” he interrupts himself with a groan, hunching over as if in pain. You reach a hand up and push back the already sweaty strands to see his face, feeling his fevered skin brush your fingertips.

”Why didn’t you call me over sooner? You know I would’ve came,” you murmur, observing his needy state with a bit of concern.

”Didn’t wanna be a bother. I thought I could handle it on my own, y’know? I always have, but with you in the picture now-“ He lurches toward your hand on him, nuzzling into it with a choked breath. “Please…please, just-….just let me-“

You pet his cheek as you think over the proposition, mouth pursed. You finally agree with a small nod, pulling your hand away.

“Is it safe?”

”I won’t hurt you. I would never,” Dante reaches for your wrists, thumbs rubbing at the pulse points. He stares at you with his best ‘puppy-dog’ look, a pout on his lips. “I’ll be good, I promise. God, please, just let me fuck you - you got a man begging here.”

You chuckle and shake your head, pulling him back to you with a mumbled ‘c’mere’. Dante wastes no time latching himself back onto you, pulling your shirt off and biting down on your shoulder with a chesty groan. His hands work at your pants as he marks up your skin, the bites hard but nothing compared to the ones you’ll receive soon enough from his fangs. Clothes gone, you writhe under him and he sits up and sheds his own clothes, sparks of red already flitting off of his skin. Blue eyes morph red and he squeezes your thigh reassuringly, throwing you a shaky smile.

”You remember the safe-word, sweetheart?”

”Ciabatta.”

“Right.”

With a quick peck to your forehead, Dante rolls out his shoulders, cracking a few joints in his spine and neck. Warm, amber light coats his bedroom and Dante’s body morphs into his devil trigger, his nine-foot form casting a daunting shadow over your bare skin. Your breathing quickens at the sight - you’ve seen his DT before, but never like this, never between your legs and teeth glistening in your direction. Sensing your fear, Dante runs a knuckle over your cheek, mindful of his claws. A low, rustling rumble echoes from his vocal chords, bending down to meet his ghastly face to yours.

”It’s still me…” he breathes out, voice altered but still holding his signature lilt. Wings cocoon your body, cradling your form as he lifts you up to dangle in front of his chest. The heat of the flames rippling over his scales threaten to scorch your delicate flesh, the heat making your sweat glands break open and perspire. Dante’s mouth opens and an orange tongue lined with bumps and grooves laps a line across your own chest, taking in the decadent taste of you. Despite your trepidations, you can’t hold in the moan that drops from your mouth, eyes fluttering closed. Transparent, tangerine saliva drips down your abdomen as his tongue roams around, stimulating nerves from your throat to your navel, bumps dragging across smooth skin.

“My mate…Mine, mine,” Dante growls out, clawed fingers pinching at your thighs as he pushes your knees to your chest, wings supporting your weight from behind and below.

”Dante, c-careful, Jesus,” you whimper out, laser-focused on his claws dangerously close to shredding your skin open. All you get in response is another resonant growl, steam pillowing off his breath. Before you can warn him again, the sandpaper tongue swipes at your hole, making you shudder and go limp against his wings, forgetting your train of thought. One thing about Dante was that on the surface, he came off as reckless, impulsive - but it couldn’t be further from the truth. He had backup plans for his backup plans, and thought out every little thing. As much as your body was sounding off alarms to scramble away from the devil, he was taking the time necessary to warm you up before indulging himself - a preliminary ‘thank you’ for being a willing victim. You look up at Dante’s face, or what used to be his face, and lock eyes with the fiery orbs glaring down at you. It was hard to tell, but you could swear that little shit was smiling down at you, knowing you’ve put two and two together. A bass of laughter shakes his form, leaning forward to bump his forehead to yours as carefully as possible.

”Told you. No harm.”

You let out a shaky breath at his smartass remark, but it’s futile to steady your breathing. Dante’s tongue pushes into your hole, pointed and flexed as it slides between your inner walls. The feeling is indescribable, and for lack of a better word: devilish. Your juices coat the length of his tongue as it assaults you repeatedly, twisting in and out while talons keep you folded upright against your squirming. Heat floods your core as your release builds upon itself, gasps and symphonic moans invading the quiet room.

Dante can’t hold his instincts back when the taste and smell of your essence is practically reducing every cell in his body into a lust-driven beast. Ejecting his tongue, his wings cradle you down to the bed, knees kissing your ears in a mating press. Your thighs quake against his scaled palms, missing the fullness of his tongue. You open your mouth to ask what he’s doing, but the words jumble into a whine of pain as his head propels to take a bite at your shoulder. Fangs puncture skin and the devil seems to purr as the crimson nectar dribbles from the bite and into his mouth. The receptors in his brain are screaming at him to bite down again and again and again til you’re a battered, bloody mess - every centimeter of flesh peeled back and consumed in the most carnal way.

Thankfully, the human conscious in him refrains and with another nibble to your neck, he withdraws and centers himself with the pulsating warmth beckoning him in. He doesn’t need to check how wet you are - he can smell it, the pheromones rippling off your sex in waves that rivaled a tsunami. A bulbed shaft stretches into your slick and your head shoots up with a scratchy yelp, pain radiating to your hips. A huff of steam leaves the devil’s nostrils, halting to save you more pain despite his needs. Dante watches your fingers go white against the bedsheets, hanging on for dear life, and you can see his wings wilt at the realization he’s letting his devil instincts get the best of him. A clawed hand grips both of small ankles to hold you in place, the other letting go to scoop up one of your hands. Scales run over the skin gingerly, your fingers curling around his thumb for security.

“Deep breaths, baby. Big, deep breaths for me,” he hums out, the mechanic whirring of his vocal chords carrying his voice past your panicked thoughts. You obey, chest rising and falling as your blurred eyes trace the flame spitting from the top of his head. Dante can feel your walls unclench around him and he takes it as a sign to keep going. It’s a slow and painful process, but inch after inch, he manages to squeeze about half of himself in before hitting your cervix.

‘Damn human anatomy,’ Dante curses internally, but makes peace with the complication, thankful enough that you're taking it like a champ. After a moment of stillness, ensuring you’re okay, he starts to move. Armored hips lurch in and out of your tight hole, hushed growls filling your ears. All you can do is lay there, pliant and accepting. Your hold on his finger tightens as your body rocks around with the thrust of his unnatural cock, his name the only coherent word you can manage while he jabs at your g-spot continuously. Dante’s teeth find their way back to your flesh, leaving bloody constellations along your legs. So consumed by the fullness of his girth, you don’t notice the ruby fluid dripping down your limbs from the bites, barely registering his tongue greedily licking you clean. Bursts of white spot your vision, core muscles tightening as your orgasm tears through you and a scream of pleasure brings tears to your eyes.

“Mine…Mine to fuck, mine to…to take…gonna look so good when you’re full of my cum…” Dante snarls against your skin, pounding his cock into the wall of your cervix with ferocity. He can’t take it anymore - he needs to come, he needs to watch it drip out of you precious cunt. Securing his hand around your ankle, Dante runts himself into your hole, gusts of wind sending goosebumps down your frame as his wings flap behind him with excitement. With a bellowing roar from him, you can feel the powerful deluge of seed swarm your body, gushing out and down your center. You feel like you’ve been hit by a semi-truck, limbs trembling and aching as you lay lifeless under him, gasping for air.

A glare of red light makes you wince, eyes straining against the light to see Dante devolve to his human form, dripping so much sweat it’s like he jumped in a pool. Dropping your ankles, he pushes himself between your legs and plants a sloppy, loving kiss on your mouth, hands threading in your hair. You kiss back weakly, shaky hands holding onto his arms. Pulling his head back, he examines you for any serious injuries, eyes conveying a battle of concern and satisfaction.

“You okay? Hurt? Was it too much? God, sorry- sorry, I-“

“Dante, I’m fine,” you let out a wavering chuckle, sitting up slightly. “That was…incredible. You were incredible.”

Dante meets your eyes again with a surprised laugh, in disbelief you’re praising him in a state like this. His fingers trail down to the bites along the outside of your thighs, vaguely recalling how your skin felt between his fangs in his primal craze. He remains plugged inside you, the intimate mixture of releases leaking between your bodies.

“Look at you…” Dante traces along a more gnarly mark in admiration, blood trickling over his finger. “How’d I get so damn lucky, huh?”

He brings his fingers to his lips and sucks off the blood, that all-too-familiar teasing gleam in his eyes as they lock on yours. A throaty moan leaves him as he swallows, fingers falling away with a string of spit. The scene goes straight down to your heat, walls closing around on him with need. Sitting all the way up, you grab his hand and playfully nip at his wrist, dilated eyes devoted to memorizing him in this moment.

“Can we go again?”

“Again?” Dante laughs, raising both eyebrows at you. “Honey, I don’t think th-“

“Please,” you pout at him, kissing along his hand til you can slip two of his fingers between your lips. Dante’s jaw goes slack, a heady breath fanning over your face as his cock twitches inside you from your plea. With a hard swallow, he nods, free hand cupping your face.

“Fiiiiine,” he sighs out, putting on a show of dramatics before a smile tugs at his lips. “Flip over for me, princess.”

[nighttimealone]

Cw: Nsfw (poly 141 x afab!reader, female pronouns)

Calling this anon, HBD and I hope you enjoy this.

“Woke you up, sweetheart?”

Your eyes flutter open when you feel a hand caressing your face briefly, the sunlight seep through the seam of the curtain, basking the bedroom in a scrim of orange as your mind process who’s beside you when you meet a pair of tender brown eyes.

“Kyle…” Stretching out your limbs then roll out from underneath the duvet, you rest your head on his lap before answering him “Not really, was about to get up after all.”

A click from the door turns both of your attentions towards the direction, the door’s not even open fully, but Johnny’s voice pops up from behind already.

“Who got the lassie out of her beauty sleep already?” He closes the door behind, and the mattress dips when he joins you and Kyle on the bed. “Ye know you can nap a bit more, eh? A perk of being a birthday girl.”

“Before Simon and John come back from picking up the cake?” You snicker when Johnny’s eyes widens a bit at your words, but a scoff of laughter quickly replaces the surprise, follow with Kyle’s chuckles ringing from the top of you.

“Already said that she’ll find out one day, Soap.” He reaches his arms out again, brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

“Not that hard to figure it out when you both started convincing me to have a nap every year around afternoon?”

“aye,” another pair of hands tracing circles on your calf, and you shift your gaze to meet Johnny’s again. “Forgot about we got a smart one for us.”

A shudder leaves you when Kyle gently maneuvers you to sit up, your head rest against his chest while Johnny scoots closer to you on the bed, and you huff out a laughter, feeling Kyle’s warmth seeping through his shirt with Johnny’s breath fanning on the nape of your neck. “So this is why they’re the one getting the birthday cake, and you two are the one staying home with me?”

“We’re more entertaining than those old men.” Kyle eyes meets Johnny’s for a brief moment, as if seeking his approval. Yet nothing speaks louder than Johnny’s hand traveling upwards, stopping at your inner thighs and palming the supple flesh in a sensual manner.

Your hazy mind’s clouded with pleasure, Johnny’s face burying between your legs, lapping like a starving dog through your wet folds, make sure every spots are taken care of and changes between sucking the swollen nub and teasing your entrance with little swirl of the tip of his tongue. He groans obscenely whenever you squeeze your thighs around his head, chasing each drop of your essence with the same passion of a bloodhound, no way he’s going to waste any drop of those precious juices. Leaning back on Kyle’s body, his hands slipping past the hem of your shirt, his lips pressing against yours hungrily, drinking all your moans elicited by his fingers flicking and pinching your hardened nipples down with his tongue leading you in a deep kiss. It’s until your back arch upwards, thighs trembling and riding through your orgasm with Johnny’s lips giving little sucklings to your twitching clit, resting your cheeks on Kyle’s shoulder and recovering from the release, that you finally notice the two hulking forms lurking at the open bedroom door.

“Told you muppets to keep her entertained, not wearing her out before she has her birthday cake.” John chides them with his gruff voice, but the amusement in his tone is obvious, not to say the smirk on his lips when you look at him with glazed eyes.

“ 'm just having my cake first” Giving a peck to your pussy lips, Johnny unabashedly smirks back to the captain.

“You’re not even the one whose birthday’s today, Johnny.” Simon sets down the cake on the nightstand, rolling his eyes before looking down at you, gaze soften a bit at the view of your blissed out face. “But the princess looks happy enough, guess Gaz and you had take good care of her, huh?”

“Can always count on us, Ghost.” You hum softly as agreement to Kyle words, which gets a snort from Simon, but he sure does approve his statement.

You eyes land on the cake, exquisite decorations with just your favorite flavor, they always spoil you even more when it’s your birthday, from refusing you to do any chores and ushering you to lounging around in the house, to gifts and cake that always make you confuse how these hotheads know that you’ve been storing those products in your basket for months but always close the app after staring at the ‘buy’ button and hesitating whether you should buy them or not.

“Thank you.” Your eyes shift from the cake and the presents, to meet each of theirs. Each of them distinct, convey their love to you in their own unique fashion, yet share the same affection and devotion to you.

“Does the birthday girl want her cake first…” John scoops a bit of the whipped cream from the cake, letting you have a taste of the creamy sweetness, then his chest rumbles with laughter when he spots the eagerness in your eyes, thumb slide past your lips and allow you to lick the cream clean from it. “Or she wants her ‘birthday gift’ from us first?”

You’re suddenly aware of how they surrounded you in a circle, John sitting in front of you between your spread thighs, his bulge restrained by his trousers nudging your puffy pussy—still wet from Johnny eating you out and you’re sure it’s dripping juices and staining the bedsheets now, body heating with desires of all your men drowning you in their scents— and Kyle’s cock already poking at the fat of your ass, his arms circling around your waist as he waits for your response.

“Doubt she’s able to enjoy the cake when she just wants us now.” Ghost tilts your head, tossing his gloves aside before sneaking a kiss from your lips, tasting the remnants of the whipped cream from devouring you in a prolonged kiss. You don’t have to give his crotch a glance to know he’s probably rock-hard too from watching your little show earlier.

“Cannae wait to get yer pretty cunny filled with our cum, eh?” and Johnny…the shameless bastard’s already stroking his dick through his sweat pants while teasing you.

“Well…Can’t say you’re wrong…” Giggling at them, you admit your wish without hesitation, before getting pulled into a kiss again, relaxing entirely under their touches and indulging in all four men’s pampering.

Because birthday girl deserves all the attention from her lovers, yeah?

[fawnwilde]

Taboo III Ecstasy .𖥔 ݁ ˖

Sean MacGuire x reader

◃◃ [chapters] ▹▹

rating: explicit (18+)

A storm has torn the camp to shreds. The Van Der Linde gang is lucky to have you around to help them pick up the pieces of the camp.

But you're lucky there's a certain Irishman who knows how to lift your spirits, in more ways than one...

content warning: f reader, smut MDNI, cunnilingus, piv smut, arthur has high honor so sean lasts longer, goofy smut bc it's sean macguire, he's a goofy guy

word count: 5.0k

The night before, a storm damn near flooded Clemons Point.

The sun disappeared beyond the horizon, and heavens opened up in retaliation.

You were sitting at the campfire, whittling arrows while listening to Javier idly strum his guitar. A distant rumbling made you sit straight.

Like a bloodhound, you looked around, sniffing the air for the earthy aroma of rain. Years living outdoors gave you a sixth sense, knowing when the weather brought danger to you and your nomad lifestyle.

Lo and behold, the warmth of the early evening sky was being interrupted by blackened clouds. A storm was brewing.

“Not good.” You said to no-one in particular, as you tucked away your knife and arrows.

“What’s wrong, señorita?” Javier had asked, ceasing his music to give you a look.

“A storm.” You responded, looking at the others around camp, “Looks like a bad one. We need to move quickly, find sturdy shelter.”

Within the hour, you and the gang were scurrying through rain, thunder, lightning and harsh winds, trying to protect and save what you could of the makeshift camp..

Dutch listened to your instructions, and together you managed to get people to transport valuables to the safety of the trees nearby. The group huddled together in a large, makeshift shelter created by two wagons and a canopy.

A very rushed solution which did little for the camp, that was bombarded by elements. All you could do was watch the camp flood and disperse, a blanket wrapped around you with Dutch’s chin resting against your shoulder.

You tried to get some sleep, used to the sounds of winds and rain. The effects of the storm would have to be dealt with in the morning, you had said.

In the present, you just sighed dejectedly.

The camp, for lack of a better word, is a disaster.

Tents destroyed by rain, wagons submerged in mud, horse escapees that had to be herded back to base by an exasperated Charles and a rather hysterical Kieran.

The sun above feels like it's taunting you all. Everyone else busies about, following the instructions bellowed out by Grimshaw. No-one has the energy to complain in their various states of exhaustion, lugging around whatever was still intact and grouping together destroyed items.

You’re standing beside Pearson, trying to salvage his supplies, half-listening to him recounting an event in the navy where his ship almost went overboard during a storm.

Another cracked bowl is put into the growing pile of unusables, another bottle of beer is found full of muddy water, and the world keeps turning.

What a dreadful day, you think as you rub a hand over your face.

���Hello, whore.” A female voice greets, and Karen joins your side with a wink.

You smile at her, “Careful. That’s Micah's favourite nickname for me. Don't want him to get jealous.”

Karen scoffs, but smiles at the easy banter between the both of you.

It’s taken you a while to get used to Karen’s way of talking with you, especially now that she knew about your rendezvous’ with the gang’s leader Dutch Van Der Linde and the resident hot mess John Marston.

Two weeks have passed since you began warming both of their beds, and somehow you worked in perfect harmony.

The gang was just happy Dutch seemed to have an outlet, and John was starting to turn his life around.

Speaking of which, Arthur and John walk past, carrying a wagon wheel between them towards Strauss’ worse-for-wear wagon.

When John sees you, he brightens up, sending you a wink. You smile back, putting your hands on your hips.

John realises you’re wearing one of his shirts, and he does a double take, dropping his end of the wheel and making Arthur lose balance. The wheel goes crashing onto the ground below, knocking off two of the wooden spokes. John winces as Arthur exclaims angrily.

“What happened?!” Strauss demands angrily, storming across camp.

“Ah! We broke the goddamn wheel!” Arthur groans, glaring at John.

“John!” Dutch laments, coming between the angered Austrian and his two unruly sons.

Karen bursts out laughing, nodding to you to try to fix the problem you had somehow inadvertently caused.

As Arthur grabs a hammer and takes Strauss over to amend the wheel, Dutch sighs frustratedly. He’s stormy as he passes you, so you gently take his hand, pulling him closer.

Dutch raises an eyebrow at you. You smile, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his lip. His mustache tickles, but he hums into the kiss, his posture relaxing for a moment. As you pull away, a small smile rests on his lips, anger forgotten.

He nods to you and Karen, tipping his hat, “Ladies.”

As he disappears from view, John follows him. You lean into him, kissing his cheek. He chuckles rapidly, nudging his forehead with yours before he wanders off.

Hosea, who was stood waiting for Dutch at his tent, awaiting an argument between the gang’s leader and John, was left surprised when both men just nodded to one another and went on with their day.

Turning back to Karen, you smile at her bewildered looks “Problem solved.” You say, shrugging.

“Witch.” Karen laughs.

“Am I a witch or a slut? You laugh, poking her arm.

“You’re a goddamn miracle of nature, that’s what you are.” Mary-Beth laughs as she joins the two of you, followed by Sean and Tilly as they bring over chairs and crates.

“At least someone can control those two.” Tilly laughs, “When you’re fully healed, I reckon you’re a real force of nature.”

You’re reminded of your wound, looking down at the bandage that peaks out from the sleeve of your dress. It had been healing well over the past couple of weeks, but there had been a scare a few days ago where you had a fever, and Grimshaw realised it had gotten infected.

Another reason to stay with the gang for a little longer. If you had left when you originally wanted to, the infection would have killed you.

“Aw, yer poor arm.” Sean coos, poking your forearm.

You shrug, “It ain't too bad.”

“Ain't too bad? If ye were a horse, ye woulda been shot ‘fore ya went lame.”

“Oh, that's not…” Mary-Beth sighs.

“Sean, why are you like this?” Tilly slaps his shoulder. The Irishman just stares at the women, shrugging without a care in the world.

“See, this is why we ain't together no more.” Karen says with a roll of her eyes.

Sean scoffs, “Please, like that wasn't my decision.”

“It wasn't.” The girls say in unison.

You join in their laughter, and Sean catches your eye.

His eyes twinkle with life, making a small blush appear in your eyes. Sean is undeniably handsome, in an unkempt, boyish way.

“If I hav'ta be the butt of the joke to hear tha' lovely laugh, then I’ll gladly take the blow to m'pride.”

“You always are the butt of the joke, Sean.” Lenny laughs as he walks past the small group.

“Everyone, hurry up! We’ll be moving closer to the lake until this area has solidified again.” Dutch calls out, walking through camp with Hosea at his side.

You smile at the thought of being on the waters edge, having confided in the Van Der Linde gang leader about your affinity for water.

Dutch winks at you as he passes.

“Sean! I told you to move the firewood an hour ago!” Hosea yells at him, storming towards the younger man looking ready to reconstruct his bone structure.

Stuttering out excuses, Sean heads off, Hosea on his trail, sending the girls back into hysterics.

Sean MacGuire always knows how to lighten the mood… even when he doesn't realise it.

You’re stood on the outskirts of camp, trying to salvage the girls’ lean-to cover, which got torn pretty awfully by the torrential rain.

“Ah, come on now.” An exasperated voice whines.

Looking up, you spot Kieran across the way, trying to lead the horses away from their old spot to the new one across camp. The grass at the hitching posts has turned to sludge against the mud below, yet the horses seem content to stay there.

And poor Kieran has the bad luck to try to move them all to their new home.

Which they are clearly unhappy about, if their whinnying and motionlessness is anything to go by. Kieran tries feebly to lead Boaz away by his reins, but the horse shakes his head and stomps his hooves at him.

“Please, just listen to me.” Kieran sighs, “You’ll be happier over there, I promise!”

“Having some trouble, Kieran?” You call, folding up the canvas as you come to his side.

“You have no idea.” He sighs, looking dejectedly at Boaz who huffs at him and stays in place. If he had arms, they would be crossed in unimpressed protest.

Bo stands a few feet away, happily grazing on a lump of soggy hay. Definitely not a picky eater, you laugh to yourself.

“Bo.” You call, whistling.

He looks up, nickering happily when he sees you. He trots over, nudging at your head, and you press a kiss to his nose.

“Take him over, Kieran.” You nod.

Kieran sighs, taking Bo’s reins limply, already prepared for another embarrassing defeat.

But Bo just sniffs, leading Kieran away as if he were the horse instead. Kieran sighs in relief, “Thank you, Bo.”

As Bo and Kieran meander off, you nudge Boaz to follow, who seems to get the hint and trudges over, followed by Old Boy and Brown Jack.

Slowly but surely, the horses trickle over to the new space, and Kieran grows more and more at ease as more of the horses take your lead.

With only two horses remaining, you tie your skirt up at the hem, grabbing the Count’s reins in one hand and Taima’s in the other. They hesitate for a moment, before following you forwards.

“And I thought I was good with horses!” Kieran beams, giving you an appreciative nod, “Thank you for helping, miss.”

“Of course-”

“Bollocks!”

You and Kieran jump at the sudden, Irish outburst.

Sean seems to have drawn the short straw, or is currently being punished by Hosea, because he is attempting to independently push one of the wagons out of the mud.

And looking positively pathetic as he huffs and heaves while trying to shove the wagon.

You lose the battle against laughing, trying to hold it in but a chuckle escapes your pressed lips. Sean looks up, and his eyes widen when he notices you’re watching.

Clearing his throat, Sean nods at you, “Lass.”

“Mr MacGuire.”

He presses his lips together, rolling up his sleeves dramatically. He takes a big breath, before throwing his body against the wagon.

It doesn't budge.

It’s strange to see Kieran looking at someone pityingly, “Do you need some help?”

“Shaddup, O’driscoll!”

“Not an O’driscoll.” You and Kieran say. He smiles at you, avoiding your eyes as you chuckle.

The horses notice the lack of human supervision, and Baylock tries to make a break for the old land, with Boaz on his tail.

“No, come on guys!” Kieran yells as he runs back to them, herding them back to their new home.

Turning back to Sean, you put your hands on your hips, “I don't think that's moving.”

“It-’s almost- there- woah!”

A slippery patch of mud sends the wagon sliding forwards, much too quickly for Sean to regain his balance. He falls into a heap into the floor, making a loud squelch against the mud.

“Sean!” You shout, a laugh escaping you as you rush forward to help him.

Pulling him from the mud, he looks up at you with a somber face, half covered in mud. He spits out a mouthful, mumbling words that you don't understand.

You wipe off the mud from his nose, looking at him and bursting out in hysterics.

“Aw, you look like Bill Williamson.” You point to the mud surrounding his mouth.

“How absolutely dare you- ow…” Sean winces, rolling his wrist with a grimace, “Definitely fell on that wrong.”

“Here, let me look.” Laughs stifled, you extend your hand to his.

He shows you his wrist, a grimace on his face. Looking it over, you carefully run your fingers over the sharp bones and wiry muscle. Sean hisses when you out pressure to his joints.

“Think you might have sprained it.” You sigh, “It's not broken, but it'll hurt for a while."

“Gah, ain't too bad then.” Sean shrugs, though he fails to hide his scrunched up look.

“If you were a horse, you would be shot before you go lame.” You smirked.

“Hardy har, she's a comedian.”

You just giggle, rolling up your sleeves, “Let’s get this thing out of the mud, then we can swap jokes.”

Sean rolls his eyes playfully, wiping off some mud on his face before coming to your side at the back of the wagon.

“I’ll push it, it isn't too big.” And you’re not lying when you say this. It’s the cart used for simple journeys taking supplies, a donkey could pull it.

But Sean doubts your abilities, huffing out a laugh while he wipes mud off his hat.

“Just warning you, it's heavier than it looks.” He says, “Don't say I didn't warn you.”

You brace your hands beside his, giving it a sturdy shove and sending it forward.

It moves easily, the strength you have gained from hunting, riding and running coming in useful once again. Looking over your shoulder victoriously, you’ve earned a look of pure astonishment from the Irishman, before his face falls and he gives you a playful pout.

“...show off.” Sean grumbles, traipsing after you as you push the wagon further into camp.

Lenny whistles as he passes the both of you. He’s covered in muck, clearly also fighting a losing battle against sorting out the camp.

“You sure are helpful, miss.” He muses, before rolling his eyes at Sean moping behind you, “And stronger than this buffoon, clearly. Bet you could push that thing with me on it.”

“Hop on if you want.” You joke.

He chuckles, prodding at Sean’s wounded arm. The two squabble behind you, indignant defences from Sean and quips from his friend.

Trying to look over the top, directing the wagon towards the shore of the lake, most people avoid your path respectfully.

But Micah Bell nearly walks right into you, a sneer on his face and his hands full of weapons. He huffs out a laugh at Sean's expense, ��Need a woman to do your job for you, Irishman?”

“Notice how no-one's offering to help you?” You say as you pass, noting the gun that has fallen out of his arms.

Sean gives Micah a goofy, self satisfied grin, “She's entranced by my Irish charm.”

He clicks his heels, making you and Lenny laugh.

Before long, you're depositing the wagon by the horses. You and Lenny share a smile and a wave before he returns to helping with rebuilding tents.

Sean goes to the water's edge, squatting to cup water and wash it over his face. It’s ineffective with only one hand, but every time he lifts the other, he winces. Dramatically, you know. Sprains ache but you’ve had enough to know he's exaggerating.

With a pout, he looks up at you “Help a poor, injured fella out?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, but relent to his puppy dog eyes. Pulling a rag from the laundry pile, you join his side, dunking the rag to wet it before bringing it to his mug.

Sean watches you as you drag the cold fabric over his chin, cleaning the mud off before washing it out in the waves of the lake.

“Big baby.” You chide.

He gives you another frown, batting his eyes at you, and you splash water at him. He guffaws, shaking his head like a dog when the water gets in his hair.

“Mean.” He says, but smiles when you resume washing the last bit of dirt off his cheek.

Once he's clean, you look over his face, taking a moment to admire his tiny freckles and crooked nose.

“There’s that handsome face.”

Sean blushes redder than his hair, clearing his throat. You stand and ring out the rag, tossing it back the laundry pile and leaving the bright red Irishman without another word.

He watches you leave, you pretend not to notice.

The camp has settled in for the night, newly constructed tents on the bank, and a campfire on the shore of Flat Iron Lake.

Home sweet home, for now.

Uncle had already fallen asleep face down in the sand, and people have started betting on whether or not the tide will sweep him out before dawn.

The gang is in high spirits despite all of the chaos.

Javier plays a light hearted song and the remaining alcohol is distributed. Even Charles has had a good few, laughing along to one of Hosea’s stories.

You’re quietly enjoying the atmosphere, sitting with John as the both of you listen to the sound of music and laughter.

You don't even realise he's dozing until his head begins resting on your shoulder.

Deciding he should better go to sleep, you rise and take his hand, leading him to the lean-to he's been sharing with Javier.

Once he’s down, snug as a bug in the salvaged blankets you wrap him in, you walk over to one of the only surviving tables, taking a moment to yourself with a borrowed cigarette from Mary-Beth.

Smoking is new to you, and it's entirely unpleasant. But it calms your mind as you bask in a moment of solitude.

It’s like you summoned the mouthy Irishman by asking the universe for peace and quiet.

Lo and behold, Sean strolls past you, carrying a crate of bottles towards the main campfire while whistling a tune.

You narrow your eyes looking at his supposedly mortally injured wrist being used to carry a heavy looking crate without any fuss from him. He looks almost cartoonish with his bouncing stride and smirking face.

Fucker just wanted princess treatment, huh? You think to yourself.

A turn of his head and Sean sees you.

Eyes widening, he drops the crate with a racket of rattling glass, dramatically grasping his wrist like a soldier fresh from the battlefield.

“Oh, my wrist!” He winces, leaning against your table, “Oh, it's pure agony, I’m telling ya.”

You huff out a laugh, blowing smoke at him, “Is that so?"

“Oh aye, aye. Thought I could carry that crate, out on a brace face. But lordie am I in pain, you’ve never known the likes of it.”

“Right.” You chuckle, “And what am I supposed to do about that?”

“Ah, I don't know.” He makes a show of thinking, rubbing his ‘sprained' wrist, “Haven't ya got any special healing powers or nothing? Karen mentioned yer a spooky witch or something of the like.”

You snort, “If I did, I wouldn't have needed to be saved by Dutch after getting shot saving you outlaws.”

Sean joins in your laughter, before he stops, looking you up and down appreciatively, “Oh… well, maybe there's something you can do…”

He’s shameless.

Narrowing your eyes, you finish your cigarette and give him a scrutinising look, “Oh? And what's that, Mr MacGuire?”

“Maybe you could kiss it better?” Sean suggests, voice low with obvious flirtation.

“That's all?” You ask, leaning forward, “You could have just said.”

Sean’s smirk drops, taken aback, “Wait, really?”

“Sure.” You shrug, standing, “It's just a kiss.”

He stares at you, and you can practically see the cogs turning.

Taking your hand, he leads you away from the rest of the camp, away from prying eyes, “A special healing kiss demands privacy.”

He pulls you into a tent, shrouded by darkness away from the campfire’s warm glow.

You raise your eyebrows when you realise whose it is, “This is Hosea’s tent-”

You're silenced by Sean’s lips.

Taken aback, you freeze. He stops, looking at you worriedly.

You stare at him, before shaking your head, “Fuck it.” This time, you kiss him.

Sean kisses like he does everything else, unmeasurable amounts of energy, little skill. But it's good, in a messy way.

You lean into it, arms wrapping around his neck to grasp onto his scruffy hair, knocking his hat off in the process.

“I thought-” kiss, “You wanted-” kiss, “Me to-” kiss, “kiss your wrist-” You say in between kisses.

“Nah my wrists fine, it's my lips that hurt.” Sean pouts against you, “Need you to kiss em better.”

His tongue seeks entry, and who are you to deny him?

It’s heated, your hands gripping onto his hair, his hands gripping onto your waist. You mesh together greedily, seeking the warmth of each other's bodies.

Sean nips at your bottom lip; and you frown against him. You can feel him harden against your hip.

“Fuck, get that skirt up.” He groans, gripping the fabric of your dress, “If I don't have my face between yer legs in the next five seconds, I think I’ll die.”

You giggle breathlessly, letting him push up your skirts to the tops of your thighs as he drops to his knees.

With nothing to balance on, you almost topple over when he begins biting your inner thighs, teeth scraping against soft flesh. Sean tugs at your ankle to push your thigh over his shoulder, steadying you while also opening you up to him.

“No underthings?”

“The ones I borrowed got wet.”

He groans, “Yer bloody spectacular.”

You barely have a second to brace yourself before he’s burying his face against your cunt.

Gasping, you grab onto his head, finger nails stretching against his scalp. Your other hand comes up to your mouth, teeth sinking down onto your knuckles as Sean begins devouring you.

Kitten-licks to your clit, digging his tongue into your hole, groans coming from his mouth sending vibrations against you. His hand leaves your ankle to plunge two fingers into you.

It’s too much too quick, your orgasm begins riding close to the surface with startling speed and urgency.

Sean shakes his head like a dog, mouthing at your cunt like it's the only thing keeping him alive.

Biting on your knuckles, you mewl out as you cum against his mouth, shaking and gasping out, murmurs of Sean's name on your lips.

He doesn't let up, sucking on your clit with possibly even more vigour. You whine, trying to move away, but he locks his hands around your thighs, pulling you back.

“Sean- too much.”

He groans, saying something against your pussy, sounding suspiciously like “Nuh uh.”

“Sean…” You laugh breathlessly, squirming.

Reluctantly, he pulls his head back, looking up at you with blown out pupils and mess all over his face.

“Haven't eaten something this good in years.” Sean sighs against you, mouthing at your inner thigh as he catches his own breath, “It’s just mean to take it from me.”

You roll your eyes, but run your fingers through his hair affectionately, “Fine, just… gentler.”

“Whatever the lady wishes.”

He returns to his ministrations, though making an effort to take more care. His tongue runs along your cunt gently, drinking up everything he can find, kissing your clit with his own moans.

Another, smaller orgasm runs through you, making you clench your thighs against his head. He breathes out a quiet, “fuck yes”, as if he wishes you would keep him locked in place forever.

You’re tempted to do just that.

After a moment, he rises to his feet. His hands grasp your hips, kissing your face, “Let me fuck you? Please?”

“Well… seeing as you asked so politely.” You chuckle, nudging your nose against his stubbly cheek.

Sean smiles giddily, like the cat who got the cream. A flash of fear crosses his face, eyebrows furrowing, “Dutch won’t kill me, will he?”

“Nah. He hasn't killed John yet.”

Sean whistles, “You naughty, naughty girl.”

Separating, the both of you begin hastily tearing off your clothes. Your skirt and shirt are in a pile across the room, and you get comfy on the bedroll, hot skin shivering against the cold blankets.

“Knew you were a minx when I saw you in the woods.” Sean says, pulling his shirt off.

“Oh?”

“You’ve got the look.” He smirks, “A siren, you are, luring us sailors in.”

“I hadn't done anything before Dutch.” You laugh, shredding the last of your garments and stretching out on the bedroll.

“No way.”

“Way.” Leaning forward, you tug Sean close by his belt, “I guess something's been awoken in me.”

“And aren't we a bunch of lucky fuckers for gaining your affections.” Sean groans, cupping your cheeks and kissing you deeply.

You lie back as Sean removes his belt, busying your hands by playing with the blanket below.

Sean steps out of his trousers, and clears his throat for your attention, a shit-eating grin on his face.

Your eyes land on his cock. Both Dutch and John had been impressive, and Sean was… less than. Smaller than them both, nestled amongst wiry red curls.

But Sean stands proudly, gesturing to his hard member with a flourish, “Meet MacGuire junior!”

You laugh despite yourself, shaking your head at him while you cover your face. You’re starting to really like this silly guy.

“Don’t laugh at him, he’ll get shy!” Sean fake pouts.

“I’m sorry.” You apologise, not at all genuinely.

“It ain’t much, but trust me I know how to use it.” He smirks, confidently sauntering over to where you recline.

He climbs on top of you, settling between your thighs with a satisfied sigh. You press your knees to his sides, bringing him close while he nuzzles against your cheek.

“Perfect, just where I’m supposed to be.” He murmurs as he begins peppering kisses along your bare chest.

Sean reaches down, one hand gripping your thigh while the other lines himself up with your entrance. It takes a few seconds of fumbling, while you press your lips together to avoid laughing again.

You feel him press against you, before Sean thrusts forward until he’s buried to the hilt. The both of you let out groans, relief filling you at being filled.

Sean sighs, shutting his eyes as he begins fucking into you, humming to himself as he increases the pace, wasting no time before he begins pounding into you.

“Oh… oh, yes…” Sean moans, “That’s the ticket.”

He’s about to start monologging, you sigh internally.

You silence him with a kiss, which he hungrily receives. Wrapping your legs around his hips, you urge him to keep going.

Sean is greedy as he takes you, hands running over every inch of skin he can find, hips slamming against yours, desperate for the warmth and pleasure of your cunt.

His pace is quick, hard, and uneven. He clearly had less experience than he likes to lead on, and he’s working with less equipment than most men.

Given all of those facts, you would have thought sex with Sean would be sorely disappointing

You’re pleasantly surprised.

Something about the feral way he fucks you hits perfectly, and you have to separate from the kiss to moan out. His hand travels down to your clit, running it vigorously and making you cry out and clench down on him.

Nothing about this is slow, it’s fast like the steam trains you watched from a safe distance.

Sean chokes out a high pitched moan, shuddering on top of you. He only gets louder with every pump of his cock within you, and he tries to silence himself by sucking on your chest.

You keen, arching against him as he sucks on one of your pebbled nipples, teeth nipping and sending jolts of electricity through your spine.

Sean adjusts his position. He sits back on his haunches and grabs your hips, pulling you up and down his cock. Sean’s pelvis catches your clit, and you arch against him, letting him use you as he desires.

You’re surrounded by a cacophony of moans and slick sounds, the tent echoing all the delicious noises produced by your writhing bodies.

It’s filthy, it’s messy, it’s ravenous, like you’re both animals in the wild.

Sean damn near sounds like an animal, in any case. His volume increases as he gets closer, crying out and moaning.

“Oh god, oh yes- almost there-!” Sean whines, body shaking as he jackhammers into you, head thrown back.

Another jolting thrust hits your clit just right, and you shake as your third orgasm erupts through you.

Sean grins when he feels it, prideful of making you peak again. His face twists into an ecstatic grimace as he twitches and begins cumming.

“Oh, oh, oh!” He howls out, his hips flush against yours, warmth spreading through your insides.

He collapses on top of you, keeping himself nestled deep within you as he huffs out warm breath against your neck.

Something about the situation, and what just happened, makes you begin giggling, cackling like a mad woman while Sean huffs.

“Can’t believe- you're laughing again.” Sean groans between taking panting breaths, “Like I didn't just fuck the shit outta you.”

You huff, “Don't know about all that.”

He lifts himself up to rest his chin on your sternum, adjusting his hips to get into a comfortable position while keeping his softening cock inside of you.

“How’s MacGuire junior feelin’ now, love?” Sean asks teasingly.

“Shut up.” You scoff, tucking a piece of his hair behind his ear, “How’s that wrist feeling?”

“Better.” He sighs, “Still need that magic kiss, though.”

You laugh, shaking your head. Taking his hand in yours, you press your lips to his inner wrist, nuzzling against the skin.

He gives you a sleepy smile, kissing your cheek. For a moment, it's just you and Silly MacGuire, and the world outside has ceased to exist-

The moment is cut short when someone dangerously close to the tent yells out, “Who left this crate here?!”

It’s Hosea.

Sean’s eyes widen, panicked as he looks out into the horizon, visualising his own imminent demise. You press your face to his chest to muffle the laugh threatening to escape you.

“...Oh he’s gonna kill me.” Sean sighs.

AN/ i don't care about canon, MY sean macguire would eat pussy until he suffocated. he'd literally get lost in the sauce. literally those videos of those cats who shove their whole face into their food until their owner has to pull them back by the scruff of their necks.

wrote the smut on my break while listening to chase icon and smoking a cheeky fag hope it hits xoxo

fic taglist: @warmsideofthepillow03 @sammymcsamerson @m1stea @iamaunknownsecret @love-you-louise @vanpan8 @6esi @idcmannn @pumpkin-toffee @littlebirdgot @ripvanwinkleee @straows @bixjan

[venus-haze]

Damned If You Do (Bo Sinclair x Reader)

Summary: You're almost certain Bo's getting tired of you. You're not so sure how much longer you can prevent the inevitable, but a slip of the tongue in a moment of desperation proves to be your salvation.

Note: Female reader but no other descriptors are used. I missed writing for Bo! I might be kinda rusty, but I hope y’all like it🖤 Please read the warnings before reading. Do not interact if you're under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Canon typical violence. Prolonged captivity and isolation. Stockholm syndrome (some basement wife elements). Mentions of past torture. Extremely dubious consent. Sexually explicit content involving vaginal fingering, sadism, degradation, choking, knife play.

You were sure Ambrose was gonna kill you if he didn’t first. The damp, dead air permeated the basement walls, filtered in thick through the vent in the ceiling and filled your lungs with each breath. It would choke you once summer settled in, foul and unforgiving. Almost as unforgiving as him, whose presence inspired fear and loathing in you. Lately, however, the lack of it brought a foreboding sense of dread over you as your isolated mind raced to its logical conclusion.

Bo was getting tired of you.

One cursory glance at the state of your body made you panic—bruises fading, cuts and cigarette burns scarring over without fresh marks to replace them. For the first week or so you were there, every part of your body pulsed with pain. He found your limits with the efficacy of a bloodhound and brutally forced you past each one. 

All you felt then was dull aching, kinda hungry, too. Didn’t bode well for your long-term survival.

You shifted on the old, lumpy mattress on the floor, stained with blood, sweat, and cum that reeked with the breakdown of others’ bodily fluids. Probably the girls in the Polaroids all over the walls. He’d taken a few of you since you’d been down there. Hadn’t done that recently, either. Mostly came down there to feed you, take you upstairs to use the gas station bathroom, bring you back downstairs to throw you around a little and fuck you, and then leave. Shit. You were becoming a chore.

Bo had plenty of chores around Ambrose already. Would grumble about them to you, the closest he ever got to pillowtalk. The movie theater, the church, even the houses were his responsibility. You weren’t quite sure why, less able to clearly picture the town you’d driven into the longer you spent as Bo’s captive. There weren’t any immediate red flags that popped out at you. After all, you’d driven straight to the gas station on your blown out tire. Didn’t take the time to do any sight-seeing. He made sure of that. From what you’d gathered from Bo, the only living souls in town were he and Vincent, with the recent and temporary addition of yourself.

The floor creaked above you, and you pulled your knees to your chest, anticipating his arrival downstairs. It was almost impossible to tell what mood he’d be in whenever he’d pay you a visit. Tried listening for the sound of his footsteps, the way his boots pounded against the linoleum above to the cement stairs to where you waited for him, as if you could do much else. There was the TV, but the glimpse into the outside world left you feeling especially helpless when your own face flashed across the screen on the 6 o’clock news not long after you became captive in Ambrose. Then after a week or so, all mention of you stopped. Seven days for you to be rotated out of the news cycle. They’d gotten tired of you long before Bo did.

You screwed your eyes shut, as he ambled down the stairs, racking your brain for what to do. Opened them just as quickly to give him your undivided attention, just how he liked. Panicked and hopeless, you blurted out upon seeing his face, “You’re gonna kill me soon, aren’t you?”

He set the bottle of soda he’d undoubtedly brought down for you and smiled. Charming, disarming, like the one he first gave you when you naively drove into town on the roadkill guy’s advice—Lester. His name was Lester. Could he have known? Was he in on the whole thing? You hadn’t seen anyone but Bo for weeks, and he only made mention of Vincent, his brother, who you were certain had no interest in rescuing you from your plight.

“What makes you think that?” he asked.

‘Tire blew out,’ you had told Bo, feeling silly and self-conscious when he laughed. ‘I can see that.’ Threw a wink your way and assured you he’d have you back on the road before it got dark. You trusted him because he was handsome and laid on the compliments thick. Made you think maybe driving over that broken bottle in the road wasn’t such a bad thing after all. Within an hour he had you in that fucking basement.

“You—you’re bored of me,” you said. “You don’t come down here as often as you used to.”

“Aw, you miss me? Is that it?” he mocked.

Maybe. Maybe it was the security of knowing you were wanted, that the longer you kept his interest, the longer you’d be alive. Maybe even earn his trust enough to get a chance to escape back into the world that’d forgotten about you. But Bo wouldn’t forget. He’d keep you immortalized on those cinder block walls with all the others. Disgustingly sentimental. Part of you preferred being part of his shrine to his own depravity than a black and white photo people carelessly flipped past in the local paper.

“How are you gonna do it? Tell me,” you begged.

He tilted his head, narrowed his eyes at you as a grin spread across his face. “Well, I like to get that shit over with quick, but you might be worth slowing things down for.”

“Like—like how?”

As soon as he made his way toward you, regret filled your gut. You crawled backward on your hands, trying to put some distance between you until your back hit the wall. His hands were around your neck, his hungry eyes drinking in your distress.

“If you were most girls, I would just keep squeezing until you stop breathing,” he said, squeezing harder. “Pretty clean.” Black spots filled your vision as you fruitlessly tried clawing at his hands. “Makes it easier for Vincent to get to work on you that way.” He released your throat, and you fought through the coughing fit that burned in your chest as you gasped for air. Tears streamed down your face, and you wanted to smack the smug expression off of his.

“But that ain’t always fun,” he said.

Bo stood up and kicked your legs apart with his boots. Grabbed something from the nearby tool cart. The fucking knife. You swore he kept the blade dull on purpose just so it’d hurt more, leave nastier scars behind in its wake whenever he dug it into your skin, dragging it through your flesh with horrifying precision that only came from experience, because you never needed stitches.

“For you, I think I’d be a little more personal.”

He straddled you, sitting on your legs so you couldn’t possibly move them in an attempt to escape or defend yourself. You could feel his hard-on straining against his jeans, pressing into your bare pussy as he leaned over you, knife shining menacingly in the buzzing fluorescent light overhead. He made rags of your clothes not long after you became his and never offered any replacement.

The blade pressed against the middle of your chest, right between your breasts, making you shudder. He licked his lips. “I could shove this knife on in there, open you up all the way down to your cunt.” His fingers brushed your clit. “‘Beauty’s only skin deep’, that’s what my mama used to say. But sluts like you all look the same on the inside. Crack open your ribcage, and I wouldn’t be able to tell you from all the rest.”

You whimpered as he dragged the blade down your abdomen with a deceptive gentleness, his fingers still working your clit, making it hard for you not to jerk your hips, risking a slip of the knife directly into your belly. 

When he lifted the knife, you couldn’t even let yourself feel relief as your eyes followed it to one of your wrists. 

“Could take it nice and slow. Let you bleed out,” he pressed it against your skin, dangerously close to a vein. “It’d take hours for you to die, then. Messy as hell, too, but we could get up to some fun, you and me. A good fuck for ol’ times’ sake, then I can sit back with some popcorn while I watch the lights go out in those pretty eyes of yours.”

You let out a shaky breath, fear and arousal mixing with your lingering lack of oxygen so you could only half-grasp what exactly he was saying, just that he had a knife to your wrist, and he was enough of a homicidal monster to kill you that way. He slid his fingers inside you, and you could feel your orgasm creeping up on you, your head heavy and fuzzy as he kept going. 

“But if we’re talking easy and personal, then I’d just—” He brought the blade up to your throat until you could feel your rapid pulse beating against it. 

Bo curled his fingers, pleasure tearing through you as you jolted in place, feeling the cool metal superficially pierce your skin. 

Your voice came out as a strangled sob. “Please, Bo. Please don’t—” 

He kissed you, an undertone of fondness in the gesture that filled you with relief and terror. “You won’t have to worry about any of that for a long while,” he said, his voice low, reverberating through your aching bones. “I’m not finished with you yet. Not even close.”

[i-wanna-write]

If One’s Different, One’s Bound to be Lonely - Wolverine Fic - Part 1

Fic Synopsis: We know Wolverine and Sabertooth but the reader is known as Jackal. Just like the other two, their mutation is animalistic, lending them healing factors, enhanced physical abilities, and animal senses. This fic details their relationship with the Anchor!Wolverine and how they ended up meeting the Worst!Logan

Chapter Warnings: violence, cussing, lewd comments/thoughts, reader is described as female

Word Count: 3k+

A/N: I’ve had this idea since I saw Deadpool and Wolverine so I figured I’d give it a go! I wanted to write Worst!Logan and SacredTimeline!Reader but wanted some backstory. Well, the backstory turned into backstories which then turned into this mini fic. Not sure how many parts there will be but no more than 10. This will start from when the reader was born, through snippets of the X-Men movies before FINALLY making its way to D&P. There's obviously going to be changes in scenes due to the reader and it's a fic so I can change what I want! I also love how Wolverine and Sabertooth are brothers in Origins so went with that. The timeline is also a little sketchy because D&W is set in 2024 and Logan 2029 but they discuss how Logan died already… so just bear with me on that… Let me know what you think!

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You were born in 1895 to two loving parents. They were older than the average parents, having struggled to conceive but finally being blessed with you. You were their pride and joy, providing you with all the clothes, toys, furniture, games, and literature you wanted.

You were a secluded child. You preferred being alone and were grateful for being an only child. You hated sharing your things and talking to others.

You were also a sick and frail child. You always caught a cold or broke a bone, or got a scratch. Your parents dragged you to numerous doctors, trying to find a reason for your ailments. It wasn’t until you hit puberty that the truth was revealed.

You were a mutant.

Your genetics carried an X gene and had different DNA then your parents.

A week laid up in bed with a constant fever, sweats, and chills, it was finally revealed when your fingernails elongated into claws, the rest of your baby teeth spilling out and adults ones replacing them. Only they were all razor sharp and could easily shred anything.

Your parents were hysterical at first. They prayed and waited for their miracle child but were terrified at first to learn that she was a mutant.

That she was different.

Your sense of sight was keener than the average human, you heard like a bat, your smell like a bloodhound. You no longer got sick. If you received an injury it healed in a matter of seconds.

Your parent’s initial fear turned into protectiveness and soon you were shut in - no longer allowed all the things you wanted. Your parents kept you at home, not letting you mingle with others your age in fear of something happening to you… Or you doing something to someone else.

As you grew older, you finally escaped your parents and never looked back. You moved around, being adaptable and able to change at any given moment and go with the flow of the environment. You were cunning and evaded anyone or thing you wanted to without thinking twice. And just like in childhood, you grew to be more territorial. You valued all your personal items and were always willing to defend what you called yours.

Through much research over your first years on your own - you were able to determine that all these traits were similar to that of an animal.

A Jackal.

Known for the same personality traits of your own, this dog breed also sported sharp teeth in all regions of their mouth and just as sharp claws to take down their prey. Soon, that's what you became known as.

You moved through the years alone, never staying in one place for more than a year due to the world's hate towards mutants. You often found secluded cabins and would purchase what you needed at a store, then hunted on your own for protein - using your abilities to your advantage.

If someone caused a problem for you, a man making a sexist comment. Someone shit talking other mutants. You didn’t hesitate to take them out. Your instincts would take over in that moment and your claws would disembowel them or your teeth rip out their throat.

Sometime during the 1950s, you were staying in a Montana cabin you found, the nearest town miles away. Occasionally, you would frequent a bar there, wanting a moment to feel the whiskey slide down. It was in that bar that you met two other mutants for the first time.

You were seated alone at a table in the tavern, dressed in slacks, a button shirt, and jacket, A cap was on your head, hiding your long hair to make it appear short. Making you appear like a man.

You were nursing a whisky on the rocks, allowing the liquid to burn your throat and sooth your day. The bar wasn’t too busy, filled with men after a day of work. Two were seated at the bar, another alone at a table than solely the bartender handing out drinks.

You smelt them before they entered. One smelt like copper, the other smoke. As they entered and made their way to the bar, you examined their appearance. Both dressed in jeans and dark jackets, the copper one appeared shorter but with broader shoulders. His hair was buzzed to his head with stubble lining his jaw. He moved with confidence, acting as he owned the establishment and everyone should part for him to make way.

The smoky one was taller, shoulders not as wide but perhaps weighing more due to his height. His hair was longer, curling behind his ears towards his neck with tufts on either side. His jaw was also lined in stubble, but rather than walking like he owned the place, he walked with ease, as if he knew people were staring but could care less about it.

Your eyes followed them as they ordered, noting how the other patrons seemed to watch them too, as if all of you were aware that they could be dangerous. You returned your attention back to your drink when you got a whiff of something you haven’t before. Despite their initial scents, they both smelt off - different than all the other humans you’ve been around your life. They smelt… almost wild.

You were taken from your thoughts when the seat across from you suddenly became occupied. You looked up and saw the two men seated across from you, both with a drink in hand. The shorter one spread his body on the chair, his left arm around the taller ones.

“What’s a woman like you doing in here?” The shorter one asked, nodding his head towards you.

“Women?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow.

So far, no one has been able to distinguish your true gender. How could these new patrons know?

“Can smell the difference Bub.” The taller one said as if it was obvious.

While his companion was spread out, the larger man surprisingly took up a smaller space. His forearms rested on the table, fingers clasped in front.

“Smell?” You repeated, feigning ignorance.

“Come on Frail. We can smell you’re a woman and smell you’re a mutant like us, quit playing stupid.” The shorter one growled, a look of anger on his face. “Never met a woman mutant like us though.” He added a malicious smirk on his lips. He turned to look at the other one, as if wanting him to comment as well but to no avail.

You’ve never met another mutant before. Period.

“Well, pleased to have checked that box off your list.” You smile, quickly finishing your drink before slamming it on the table, rising to flee. “Have a good night gentlemen.”

One of them smelling like blood and acting as he did, you knew they were trouble - and you’ve avoided trouble for so long the past years you weren’t about to start getting into it. You went to leave but the taller man grabbed your arm suddenly, claw like knives slowly breaking the skin of his knuckles and leaving them, puncturing your skin.

“We weren’t finished talking.” He said, finally showing some emotion as a smile graced his face.

You quickly yanked your arm back, watching as your skin healed itself, blood now stained on the sleeve of your jacket.

“Have a seat frail,” The shorter one added, smirk still on his face. “We want to get to know you.”

You sat back down. You wish you didn’t finish your whiskey as you tired to make your escape, no longer having something to fiddle in your hands.

You look up at the men and see them both staring back at you, as if taking you in. You know what they see. A woman with H/C hair hidden underneath a hat with just enough to be seen on your forehead. Eyebrows to match that have strands out of place and eyelashes that prissy girls would kill for circling your E/C eyes.

You do the same, truly taking in the men if they’re going to be talking with you. Assessing you. Determining if you’re a threat or not.

You observe the shorter one first, seeing him as the larger threat of the two. His eyebrows are bushy despite his short hair and has wrinkles on his forehead. He continued to wear a malicious smile and has subtle dimples on either side but they make him appear menacing rather than childlike. His eyes are green and hold a dark tint, as if he’s thinking about fucking you or killing you. Maybe both.

You move to look at the taller one and notice that his expression is almost unreadable, except his mouth is curled up slightly in a snarl. His eyes are a deep brown, holding only mistrust and curiosity, as if solely reading everything about you. His bottom his lip is full, the top one smaller but shaped perfectly despite the snarl.

“What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” The shorter one repeats, raising an eyebrow.

“Drinking. What else do you do in a tavern?” You bite back, shooting him a dark look.

He looks around as if debating his answer before saying, “Some drink.” He shrugs. “Others bring a girl in and fuck her in the bathroom.”

You grimace at the thought of doing that act with him. You’d pick the taller one if it was between life and death if you had to choose. At least the taller one looks like he’d make it quick.

“I’m sure you have to drag them back there as no women would glance your way.”

You know you shouldn’t egg him on but you can’t help it. You have just as sharp of a bite to back up your bark and you’re not afraid to use it. Even if it’s against two other feral mutants.

“Hmph.” The man says.

You watch as he reaches his right hand out, going for a handshake. His hand resembles a paw, his nails replaced with claws and sharp as knives. Your eyes travel to his face and now notice how his canines are sharper than an average humans. Perhaps attributed to his mutation.

“Victor Creed. This runt is my brother James Howlett.” He finally introduced.

Two can play at this game.

You elongate your own nails, showing off your claws. You then smile, teeth sharpening to show off points on all of them, not just your canines. You reach over and clasp his hand in your own.

“Y/N L/N.” You tell them, causing him to smile wider.

You let go of his his hand and look at the other one. “I’m not shaking your hand since you already sliced me, asshole.”

He merely shrugs. “Not offended Bub.”

This time you notice how deep and gruff his voice it. It sends goosebumps throughout you and you hope neither can notice it.

“What do you two want?” You ask, switching your gaze between them.

“Like I said, never met a female frail before. And based on your reaction, guessing you've never met another mutant ever.” Victor says.

It’s your turn to shrug. “I like being alone and keeping to myself.” Simple and to the point.

“Why’s that? Afraid you’re gonna kill someone with those claws? Too weak to fight off the instinct to sink your teeth into their neck?” Victor leans forward, looking intently at you for your answer.

He’s right. Of course he is, having hit the nail on the coffin. You’re a loner by mutation and learned that being around others only causes harm by your hand. It’s better to be alone and comfortable, rather then surrounded by prey.

“So what if I am? Can still take your ass down.” You say nonchalantly, trying not to appear bothered by how easily he read you.

He laughs, it sounding hoarse and dry. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Somehow I think you’d enjoy that. Don’t wanna end up in the bathroom with you.” You retort back.

You notice then how the taller one barely talks. He seems to have an air of indifference around him. Like he’s just here because Victor is and has no interest in the conversion. Or you.

“Tell me, how old are you? Gotta be young if you’ve never met another mutant before.”

You watch as he takes a sip of his whiskey, again upset at yourself for downing yours. You think about stealing James due to his lack of participation but think better of it, not wanting him to slice you again.

“I was born in 1895.” You reveal, holding your gaze with Victors.

“Awe Jimmy.” He coos, bumping his elbow into his brothers arm. “She’s just a kitten compared to us.”

You growl at that, not liking the mocking tone. This man was starting to get on your nerves. His gaze keeps drifting down to your chest, as if he has x-ray vision to see your breasts. The other isn’t giving anything and you wish he would, seeming to be the more sane one of the two. If you take out the part where he cut you.

“What? You guys my long lost grandfathers or something trying to bring me home?” You question, arching an eyebrow.

They looked to be your age but based on what Victor has said and you’ve seen, their mutations really are similar to yours. You wouldn’t be surprised if they were older than you. You want to know more about them - you have to. The first people like you since you’ve discovered you're a mutant. Maybe you won't feel so lonely anymore due to your difference form others

“1831 and 1835.” James finally speaks, lowering his whiskey from his mouth.

“Doesn’t answer if you are my grandfathers.” You point out.

“Not your grandfather frail. Quite trying to be cute.” Victor cuts in. “Now, based on your claws and teeth, you’re definitely like us, not just by scent. So what? You got some wolf? Some crocodile? You hiding scales underneath those clothes?”

You laugh, your voice light in the air before you remember where you are and what you’re pretending to be.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You snap back, baring all your canines at him.

“She’s a Jackal Vic.” James says. “Hates being around others. Easily blends into her environment. Able to will her nails to claws and all teeth shape as canines. Makes sense”.

“One point to brains.” You point to James, winking at him. “Zero points to brawn.” You point to Victor.

Said man goes to speak but you don’t let him, continuing. “You’ve got your own set of claws and canines. You’ve been trying to manipulate me and the situation this entire time, proving your cunningness. And you seem to try to include James here, I’m assuming your younger brother, into the conversion because you value family. Making you similar to a Sabertooth.” Something you thought you might’ve been before discovering your similarities with a Jackal.

Victor raises his eyebrows in surprise, not thinking you’d be able to guess their own mutation like James had yours.

“Meanwhile,” you turn to James, “You seem to hate being around other people as much as me. Your quiet but observe everything around you, making sure you have an escape. You were able to debunk what my mutation was, suggesting you’re smart. If I didn’t see your claws earlier, I would’ve guessed you to be a Jackel like me.” You finish.

You watch as James leans forward, both arms resting on the table as his face gets closer to you. You stare into the deep brown and feel yourself getting lost for just a moment before being pulled back.

“So what does that make me?” He questions, curious of your conclusion.

“A wolverine.” You state.

With that reveal, you make your escape. You quickly exit the table, knowing this time to not walk by it as you exit the tavern. You push open the door with one hand and start to pick up your pace. There are people lingering outside and you don’t want to draw attention.

You reach the edge of the forest, taking the cap from your head and letting your H/C locks free. You run a hand through them, trying to catch your thoughts and slow your heart rate at the run-in you just had.

You two sets of footsteps rush up behind you and take a breath, smelling Victor and James. A hand reaches out and lands on your shoulder but you immediately grab it, turning to your right to face your attacker.

A crack is heard throughout the first floor as you break Victor’s arm and don’t hesitate. Your teeth elongate to canines, your face moving to his neck and grabbing it. You bite down, blood immediately rushing into your mouth as you grab a chunk out of him.

You let go and push him away, watching as he staggers back and James stands at his side, hands in his pocket. You spit the flesh out of your mouth and grin at both men.

“If you guys have heard anything about the Jackal, you’ll know to leave me the fuck alone.”

You leave it at that, turning on your heel and walking off into the forest, leaving an angered Victor and impressed James behind you.

\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///

Stay tuned for Part 2!

[sirahegao]

Sacrilege

Knight Rengoku x Female reader

Summary: Sir Kyojuro Rengoku is appointed as the princess personal bodyguard due to rising threats of violence from the enemy kingdom. He would do anything his dear princess orders and desires. His sole purpose is to keep the princess safe and content.

Tags: Porn with a bit of plot, slight dom reader, oral (female receiving), virginity loss, p in v, fingering, masturbation, missionary, riding, arranged marriage, forbidden love

Word count: 6.7k

* ‧ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ * 𓂂 ꙳ * ‧ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ * 𓂂 ꙳ * ‧ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ * 𓂂 ꙳

Every aspect of your life was controlled since the day you were born. Not only your life but also the one of your parents. They were promised to each other for the sole reason of royal bloodlines. That was the same direction your life was currently headed and you did not, could not, come to terms with it.

The idea of being stuck in a loveless marriage for the sole reason of pumping out babies filled you with something worse than dread. Looking at your mother was like looking into the life of your future self, a sad and miserable reflection staring back at you. All your Mother accomplished in her life was to give the royal family 6 children. Your brothers, however, had a better life set for them. The eldest was the sole heir to the thrown and was given the opportunity to chose his own wife as long as she was nobility which is a far better freedom than the one you were granted.

You were set to be married off to an enemy kingdom once negotiations were to be complete. You thanked god that their king was just as stubborn as your father when it came to settlements and you prayed the quarrel would never end. But once those negotiations were settled, your job would be to marry the eldest son and provide as many children as possible and as soon as possible. In all honesty, you would rather die before that happens.

The only thing you were able to control in your sad life, was your personal bodyguard. A knight specifically assigned to you when threats to the kingdom arose. The royal family had to protect you at all costs, after all, you were going to be used to settle disagreements between kingdoms.

That knight was to follow your orders without hesitation. After all, who would suspect you ever having ill intentions? The knight followed every single of your commands. The only one order he would never obey was to leave your side. There was a time where you would desperately try to shake him off your trail. He would follow you everywhere and would always stay exactly four steps behind you. He was like a bloodhound. No matter where you hid or how hard you tried to lose him, he would always find his way to you.

At the end, he became an aspect of your life you were able to control. After you got used to him being a thorn by your side, you decided to push his limits and see what orders he would follow. At first you requested silly tasks for your own amusement like making him walk your dog and clean up after him during your morning strolls or make him cut up your food and feed you as if you were a child. More than anything, you expected him to be enraged and snap at you for treating him like a common maid, but he never gave you the satisfaction. However, as time went on you noticed that any task involving him being in close proximity to you would incite a flushed reaction from his end.

Once you caught wind of that, it became the only thing that brought you amusement. Your demands became bolder like asking him to help you change into your over complicated dresses or making him give you massages when you became too stressed. All of this just to see that flustered expression of his. He never once declined any of your commands which you found entertaining. Of course, all of this was done behind closed doors. The rest of the servants tended to be gossipy and you did not want them to spread any misinformation.

However, one rainy night completely changed the dynamic of your relationship. The stress of being scrutinized for every aspect of your life, for every decision you made, had finally caught up to you. Nothing in your life was under your control except for this. As your hands wondered beneath your sleeping gown you realized this was something you would always be in control of. The need to forget everything that made you worry was strong, and you desperately sought that sweet release.

This was the only time during the night when you could be alone. Your knight would either be right outside your bedroom doors or patrolling in the nearby area, so you figured that as long as you were silent, you would be able to obtain that sweet release.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips when your fingers lightly brushed against your clit. The action bringing excitement and anticipation to the rest of your body. The bundle of nerves was aching to be touched and you granted that wish by drawing soft circles on the area. This caused the rest of your body to tremble as breathy sighs escaped your lips. Being the only female in the royal family meant that you were a virgin. You were promised to whoever your father decided to trade you off with.

This, however, did not change the fact that you were able to pleasure yourself. You reveled in the idea of being in control of something. Being able to control your climax was enough to settle your nerves. However, you couldn’t ignore the fact that you felt as if something was missing.

You continued to draw circles around your clit. You slowly increased your speed as the pleasure caused your legs to tremble. Soft gasps escaped your lips as you felt the wetness gather in your core. The finger pleasuring your clit soon wondered to your aching hole. Your finger slipped in easily due to the wetness. Opening your legs wider caused a shudder to escape your lips as you granted yourself better access. Adding another finger, you curled and scissored them searching for that spot that never failed to drive you over the edge.

What a sight you were. Your legs were up and spread open revealing your sopping cunt. Your lips were swollen from how hard you bit them trying to keep quiet, and your hair clung to your neck and forehead from the slight sweat you were building up. Once your fingers curled to that sweet spot, you couldn’t stop yourself from letting out soft moans.

Accounting the rain, you believe no one would be able to hear your sharp gasps as you slowly built up your orgasm, or even the lewd wet sounds that filled your chambers. However, you were greatly mistaken.

After finishing his patrol faster than usual, Rengoku made his way back to your chambers only to be met by strange noises. Your sharp gasps made him believe you were having trouble breathing, so he took it upon himself to urgently check on you.

Without warning, your bedroom doors were swung open and his eyes shot wide open when he witnessed the compromising position you were in.

The first thought that ran through your head as your eyes met was anger. You were annoyed that he interrupted you when you were about to climax.

While maintaining eye contact, your fingers sped up. The squelching noises growing louder and your shudders were the only noises that filled the room. You desperately kept trying to reach that high again. “Well, are you just going stand there like a buffoon, or are you going to do your job and help me?” Your lust took the reigns as you spewed those words from your mouth.

He stayed silent for a moment which gave you enough time to come to your senses and realize what you were asking of him. Before you could speak, with that same flushed expression that always brought you amusement, he answered,

“As you wish my princess.”

That night set a chain of events that led you to the moment you were currently in, his head hidden underneath your dress as his tongue swirled around your clit. Anytime you demanded anything like this from him, he never argued or offered his opinion. He just followed orders like a good soldier. There was never any penetration since he always made sure to use his fingers and/or mouth to drive you over the edge.

Sometimes you wondered if he enjoyed this as much as you, since he never stopped until you tapped out from exhaustion or overstimulation.

You were currently supposed to be on your way to the opera, but instead you were in the back of the stagecoach with your dress ridden up to your hips as he held your thighs back, spreading you open for his tongue. The trees in your large estate shielded the stagecoach from prying eyes and was far enough to drown the lewd sounds you would make. You didn’t even make it out of the estate before your lust and impatience took over.

“Mmm… your tongue feels heavenly.” Every time you would compliment him, you could feel his body trembling almost as if your compliments brought him pleasure.

He just hummed in acknowledgment. The vibrations adding to your pleasure as his tongue delved deeper into your sopping hole. You couldn’t stop your hips as they moved along his face. Your body desperately seeking further stimulation. Your trembling fingers tangled into his golden locks pulling on them the closer you felt the dam break. A part of you would’ve like to reward him, to make him feel as good as you were feeling, but the way his eyes met yours along with his flushed cheeks and the juices dripping down his mouth hinted that this was more than enough for him.

As he sucked on your clit, a long thick finger teased your hole. He would slip the tip of his finger in, the wetness allowing him easy access, and softly begin to pump and curve his finger. The sensation was too much that you felt the familiar build up of your orgasm. It was so close that your vision went dark from the anticipation and the pleasure.

“Please… I’m so close.” You managed to whisper.

If only you knew you would never have to beg anything from him. That was not your place.

“Anything you wish, my princess.”

His mouth connected to your clit once more while his finger increased its speed causing your legs to tremble around his shoulders. The grip you had on his golden locks was enough to almost rip his hair out, but he did not complain. His eyes connected to your face as you came undone around him with a loud groan. You tried to bite your knuckles to stop you from making too much noise, and how he wished you could just be as loud as you wanted. To let everyone know that a commoner like him brought the princess to tears with how intense her orgasms were. The orgasms that HE caused.

He licked you clean along with his fingers, savoring your sweet taste.

“Well, it looks like we should be headed back soon before we raise any alarms. You did well Rengoku.” You said as you fixed your dress and hair, trying to get rid of the evidence these acts ever took place.

As Kyojuro took his place in the driver’s seat, he tried so hard to make his throbbing cock go down. He tried taking deep breaths along with thinking of any other distracting thoughts either the sky, the trees or the birds, but you always made your way back into the spotlight of his mind. How he wished he could claim you as his, but he knew that was not his place. You were royalty and he was just a farm boy who wanted to fight for his kingdom. If the royal family ever found out about his sacrilege towards the princess, he knew he would get executed without question.

But you were just so addicting. It was like doing heroin, he knew it was wrong, but he could just not resist the high. The night that he walked in on you was not on purpose. The noises you were making were almost as if you were having difficulty breathing which sent him into his fight or flight response. When you asked him to help you, every sane part of his being was screaming at him to turn around and leave, to pretend he just didn’t walk in on you knuckle deep and leaking all over the bed, but he was weak and you were divine.

Every time you requested him after that, he never failed to be there. It was as if you had him on a tight leash, always available to do your bidding. You were his Aphrodite and he would always worship you as such.

Once he was able to calm down, he set the carriage on its way back to the castle. However, both of your hearts dropped when you saw your father waiting outside the castles doors. There were times when you would go months without seeing him, so seeing him here without it being a special occasion or without any notice, made your thoughts race and hearts drop.

After holding the carriage door open for you and helping you down, Kyojuro broke the tense silence first,

“Your majesty.” He kneeled in front of the king, not able to make eye contact. You, on the other hand, gave a curt bow and tried to settle your nerves. Your hands began to sweat and your heart felt as if it was going to jump out of your chest. Your father had not said a single word since you arrived, and it was difficult to read his hard expression.

“Where have you been?”

“We just came back from the opera. I was beginning to feel as if I was going to die of boredom.” You fanned yourself, acting nonchalant.

“Guard, at ease and stay put.” Your father’s booming voice commanded towards Rengoku. Whatever it was that your father wanted to talk to you about, he made it obvious that he wasn’t in a hurry. It was almost as if he knew, and that paranoid part of yourself kept screaming at you that he knew.

You feared he would send his guards to execute Rengoku right there at the steps where you left him. Why else would he separate him from you? Still, you weren’t dumb enough to begin rambling first, as you waited for him to begin with whatever it was he wanted to discuss.

“I want you to get your affairs in order.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion.

“Father?” You urged him to continue.

“The east kingdom and I have come to an agreement. You will be sent to their castle to familiarize yourself with your new home and your new fiancé. I will join you in a few days time to oversee the royal wedding.”

The wedding would seal whatever agreement they had come to terms with. Hearing those words made your heart drop to your stomach. You knew this day would come, but you were not ready. It was too soon. You were not ready to leave everything behind and be bound to a complete stranger.

You were not ready to part with your knight.

“Another thing I wanted to mention, once you get married, I want you to… consummate the marriage and be with child straight away. That will be the only way for this peace treaty to fully become fulfilled. Do I make myself clear?”

You bowed slightly, not as a sign of respect, but as a way to hide your expressions. “Yes father.”

“Good. You shall head out tonight. I want everything done as soon as possible so I can forget about this mess.” He walked away without another word. As soon as you heard the palace’s doors doors close behind you, signaling his departure, you dropped to your knees and began to sob. You could feel the servants eyes on you as they continued to pass by, trying to get their chores done, but none of them dared say a word to you. It was not their place to speak their mind in matters regarding the kingdom.

You were so engrossed in your own thoughts and sadness, that you did not feel the soft touch on your shoulder.

“Princess… we need to start packing.” Came Rengoku’s soft and reassuring voice.

Taking deep breaths, you tried to regain your composure. You let him help you up and guide you to your chambers.

Once the door closed behind you, you continued to quietly sob. Without a word, Rengoku began putting together the things he knew you wanted to take. His fingers caressed the material of your dresses as he placed them on the bed. Almost as if he was trying to memorize the feel of the material. Rengoku felt defeated too. The most likely scenario would be that your new husband would probably send him back to his kingdom. Rengoku will be seen as an outsider and a spy if he was to stay there, so there was no way he would ever see you again after the wedding.

This day was bound to happen, and he thought he was prepared. If only things were different. If only he were royalty, maybe he would’ve had a chance to remain by your side if at least just for a little while longer.

“I’ll get a carriage ready and send a maid up to help you pack.” When he was about to reach for the doorknob, he felt your arms wrap around his torso. Your head nuzzling against his back armor. He froze under your touch, unsure of how to proceed or what to say.

“Please stay…” you sobbed, “I want to remain by your side as long as possible.”

You were afraid he was gonna push you away. What if he did not adore you the way you adored him? What if he just followed your orders because he was your subordinate?

Now that you were coming to terms with the fact that you might never see him again, your true feelings for him began to rise. At first you believed that your feelings were just driven by lust, but now you realized that you did not see yourself without him. Without your protector.

“I don’t want to go. I want to stay here. I’m so scared.”

This was the first time you spoke to him like an equal. You were showing your vulnerable side to him and all he could do was hold you.

“It’s your duty. Just like my duty is to protect you.”

“Then protect me. Don’t let this happen… please.” He remained silent at your request. This would be the first time when he was not sure he would be able to follow through with your orders.

——

You tried not to keep sobbing as you were on your way to your new home. The only sounds that filled the air were the thuds of the horses hooves hitting the dirt road, and the occasional snorting from the horses. You massaged your eyelids to keep them from swelling. The coldness of your fingertips soothed the area, but no matter how hard you tried, silent tears continued to slip down your rosy cheeks. You didn’t want to arrive at the new kingdom with obvious signs of distress.

Kyojuro had been silent since you spoke about how you really felt towards this situation. You figured it was due to the fact that he was just following your orders and he did not really care for you the way you thought he did.

You sighed heavily as you stared out the window of your carriage. The rustic buildings became less and less and soon replaced by the trees of the thick forest that swallowed your kingdom. The feeling of hopelessness consumed you as you realized there was no way around this. This was your fate. This was what you were born to do and your only use as a princess.

The trip towards the east kingdom was long enough to require staying overnight at a formal hotel. There was an upcoming small town that belonged to the east kingdom which was were you would stay for the night. The last night of the life as you knew it. The last night you would spend with your knight.

——

You watched the stars out of the spacious balcony of the luxurious hotel you were staying at. You could see Rengoku near the stables, settling the horses of your carriage down for the night. He was so gentle with the horses. Offering them small smiles and pets as he spoke to them. Most likely telling the horses sweet words as if they were puppies. You couldn’t help but smile at that. It made you realize that whoever Rengoku ended up with, he would be nothing but loving and gentle towards them. How envious you were of that person. Slight guilt built up in your gut as you realized you basically took advantage of him. As his superior there was no way he could deny your requests without fear of retaliation. You made a mental note to apologize to him before arriving at your destination.

Once you changed into your nightgown, you tried to settle beneath the covers and enjoy the last night you had for yourself, but the room felt dark, cold and lonely especially in the giant lone luxury bed you were in. The heavy armored steps outside your door let you know that Rengoku had returned from the stables into his assumed position, and you were debating whether to ask him to join you in bed.

Of course, there was no ill intent behind your request. You just wanted these feeling of loneliness to go away.

As if he read your thoughts, there was a knock on the door before his deep voice asked if he could come in.

“Just checking if you have anything out of the ordinary to report. Although we are on the high end of town, it does tend to attract thieves.”

“Can I request one last thing from you? You know, before our journey ends tomorrow?” You interrupted, your mind too preoccupied to acknowledge what he was saying.

“Anything my princess.”

“Can you lay with me? It is a chilly night and I don’t feel the fireplace warming up the room enough.” You requested shyly, your eyes not able to meet his amber ones as you were sure your cheeks were flushed. This was not the worst thing you’ve requested from him, so you weren’t sure why you were acting this pathetic.

“As you wish.” He bowed slightly. A sign of the respect and admiration he still had for his princess.

Before joining you, he began to take off his armor, revealing a white long sleeve dress shirt along with black trousers. The shirt fit loosely around his torso, a deep v-cut showing off his perfect chiseled chest. Your hands ached to feel his body under your fingertips. As much as you invited him in with good faith, you couldn't help the filthy thoughts that clouded your mind.

Little did you know, he felt the same way too. The way your nightgown clung to your body in a way that your usual dresses failed to do, leaving nothing to the imagination. Not to mention your cute messy hair that was usually in a neat and elegant style. All these factors made him want to defile you, but you were the princess. You were royalty, and he believed you shouldn’t be requesting things like this from a commoner like him.

You scooted over leaving a generous amount of space between you as to not make him feel uncomfortable, and as much as you wanted to reach out to him and feel him underneath your fingertips, you turned away from him acting indifferent.

However, as you were trying to drift off into sleep, you felt him close the space between you and drape an arm over your hip.

“You stated you were cold, I cant let my princess suffer like that.”

Your heart leaped every time he called you ‘his princess’. It was a warm fuzzy feeling that spread across your chest which you’ve never felt before. It made you nuzzle against him, cherishing the feeling of his warmth that you might never feel again.

With how comfortable you felt, you began to drift off again, that is until you felt something hard poking your lower half. You weren’t as clueless as to not know what it was. He believed you were fast asleep with how your chest softly rose and fell, so he let his mind wander and delve into those lewd thoughts of his which immediately made his cock ache from how hard it was.

You didn't dare move, enjoying the way he was rubbing slowly against you. His breathing became shallow and low whimpers would leave his mouth here and there. The noises he was making made wetness pool between your legs. You were aching to feel more, aching for him to cloud your mind and make you forget all your problems like he always does.

He felt pathetic, but he couldn’t control his body. He felt like a dog, but you were just so soft and warm. The desire was unbearable unlike anything he’s ever felt in his life.

You knew it was wrong, but your body moved on its own. You rubbed your ass against him making him let out a painful wince.

“Princess… I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to-“

You interrupted him by turning around and crashing your lips into his. It was a heated kiss full of desperation and desire. Teeth clashed against each other as you took control of the kiss. Your tongue dancing with his as your hands held unto his face desperately, as if you were afraid he would disappear.

“I need you my knight.” You whined against his bruised lips. A string of saliva connecting your mouths.

It was as if a switch had flipped. Any thoughts of future consequences were shoved deep into his mind and all he could focus on was your lustful gaze and how soft and warm your body felt against his. You belonged to him for tonight while he has always been yours.

His hand came up to your face. His rough thumb caressing your flushed cheek. He looked at you with so much adoration as if he were staring at a deity. “Then use me as you please, my princess.”

That was your cue as you closed the space between you again. Your hands roamed his muscular arms and broad chest while he still seemed hesitant to touch you, but he was just afraid he would loose control and take over. You were his superior, so you were in charge. Desperate to feel him, you guided his hand under your nightgown and towards your chest. His large hand engulfed the soft mound making a soft moan escape your lips. The way his fingers pinched and groped your breasts was making the ache between your legs unbearable.

“Please… I need more.” You whispered against his lips, begging for some relief.

“Anything for you, my love.” He began to place kisses against your cheeks trailing down your jaw and neck just to stop briefly by your chest. He nuzzled your right breast, taking your clothed nipple into his mouth while he pinched your left breast. It was almost as if he was teasing you since you couldnt stop the way your hips lifted trying to obtain some sort of friction.

He felt comfortable enough now to worship your body properly without the fear of being caught lingering in the back of his mind. He wanted to take his time exploring every inch of your body, since he never had the chance to before, but seeing the way you desperately sought relief made him take pity on you.

You soon felt his breath against your clothed pussy making you shudder. God, how he had missed your pussy. If it were up to him, he would be tongue deep in your pussy for hours. Your wetness had leaked and formed a Heavy wet patch on your lacy panties. He couldn’t stop himself from licking a stripe along your clothed wet slit. You tasted so divine that it was almost intoxicating. He was like a man who had been wondering the desert for days before finally having a sip of water.

“Fuck…” he muttered under his breath before ripping your underwear off of you making you yelp. Without missing a beat, his mouth enclosed around your clit as he softly began to suck. Your thighs trembled around him as you moaned, finally being touched exactly where you wanted. Soon the room was filled with lewd wet sounds that didn’t fail to turn you own even more.

“Such a good boy.” You whined into your hand trying to keep your moans low.

“Tasty… you’re so tasty… so sweet..” his incoherent babbling filled the air. The first time he’s ever been vocal while you performed these sinful acts. He would usually stare at your face as he lavished your folds, but this time he was entranced with the way your tight wet cunt would swallow his fingers. He loved seeing the way your hole would clench around his fingers the closer he drove you to your release.

“Use your mouth more.” You shuddered. Your sentence coming out more demanding than you intended, but either way he was eager to comply, moaning as his mouth encircled your throbbing clit.

Once he felt your thighs tighten around his head as you released around his mouth, he couldn’t help but to desperately fuck himself into his wrist. Your praises and the way you moaned his name making his cock throb. It was almost painful how desperately he wished to be inside you.

As if you read his thoughts, your hands cupped his cheeks as you dragged him up to your face for a deep messy kiss. “Put it in. Please put it in.” You whined desperately against his lips.

Those words were enough to cloud his judgment and to silence the voice in the back of his head screaming about the consequences.

“As my princess desires. I am yours to command.” He moaned against your cheek. His lips leaving sloppy wet kisses down your jaw and neck. He quickly rose to remove his dress shirt, but too desperate to remove his trousers.

He was mindful of your virginity as he slowly and steadily guided the head of his cock through your weeping hole. Your legs immediately clenching around his hips due to the painful sting. Your wincing pulled at the strings of his heart.

“Shhh… I know my princess. It’ll feel better I promise.” He kissed and nibbled on your lips as a way to distract you from the pain. Oh how hard it was trying to not just slam into you. Your tightness causing whimpers and moans to escape from his lips.

“So tight princess… all for me.” He babbled. His eyes hazed over with lust at the way your squirmed and twitched beneath him.

The pain began to slowly subside as the stretching of his cock began to cloud your mind with pleasure.

“Mmm… faster.” You commanded breathlessly as your soft hands roamed his hard body. You loved the way his muscles felt under your touch, hard and contracting every where you roamed.

His hips began to roll faster, filling the room with sinful squelching. The slap of skin on skin grew louder and you feared the sounds could be heard by other patrons down the hall.

He whimpered and moaned against the crook of your neck, trying his best to keep quiet. You felt so heavenly around his cock and all he could think about was to fill you to the brim with his cum.

“My beautiful princess… ah~ I want you to carry my babies.” The pleasure became so unbearable that he had to close his eyes. Just seeing your beautiful flushed face with your swollen lips and disheveled hair was enough to make him want to cum. Not to mention the way your innocent looking eyes locking with his made him feel.

“I would love to carry your children my handsome knight.” That was all he needed to hear to release deep inside you as his moans filled the room. The strange feeling of his warmth inside was enough to make you join him in that high. Your legs trembled at his sides as you clenched the sheets beneath you. This was much more intense than when he used his mouth.

He collapsed next to you, shoving his sweaty golden locks out of his face. Any timidness that lingered quickly disappeared as you craved that high again.

“Awww… don’t tell me my knight is spent already.” Came your taunting voice as you crawled up his lap. You rubbed your juices along his softening cock which immediately became rigid at the sensation of your cum dripping down his shaft.

“You told me I could use you for my pleasure, and I’m not done yet.” There was a new malicious look of lust glazed over your eyes that ignited the fire within his core again.

“Let me worship you like you deserve.” His heart stopped as he watch you remove your robe. The fireplace reflected the slight sheen coating your beautiful body. He swore he had died and gone to heaven. This couldn’t be real. There was no way you were about to sit and bounce on his cock.

“Fuck… you don’t have to do this. I’ve defiled you enough, my sweet.” His hips betrayed his words as he thrusted himself between your folds.

You made him shut up as you shoved yourself down his length in one swift move. Both of your moans filling the room. Any concerns about being heard long forgotten. His cock stretched you so deliciously that it was addictive. It made you wish you could have his cock deep inside you all the time.

His throbbing tip hit your g spot perfectly that with each bounce, it drove you closer to the edge. Yet, you didn’t miss the way he trembled and whimpered beneath you. He was so blinded by pleasure and he demonstrated it by balling his fists into the sheets, anything to keep him grounded to reality.

“I… I want you to fill me up again… Kyojuro.” You felt so close, but you didn’t want to climax before feeling him coat your tight he walls.

He groaned hearing his name roll so sweetly from your pretty mouth. It was enough for him to sit as he held you so tightly he shoved you down on his cock as deep as he could before releasing inside you. He moaned breathlessly against your ear leaving opened mouth kisses wherever he could reach.

There was something about watching this man come undone beneath you. There’s nothing like seeing your powerful, indomitable warrior reduced to a whimpering wreck as he loses himself in you. It’s a power which omly served to intensify your climax.

You felt your orgasm drip down your thighs and dirty the trousers he never took off.

“I love you… my beautiful princess.” His confession made your heart still. All the thoughts of your responsibilities rushed back and hit you like freight train. All you could do was remain silent as you held onto him. Not knowing what to do or what to say.

He felt as if he overstepped his boundaries, but he couldn’t stop himself from uttering his next sentence.

“Let’s run away together.” He muttered against your neck making you shoot up in surprise.

“I’ll look after you. I’ll provide for you. If you’re with child I’ll look after both of you.”

You remained speechless.

“It may not be the lavish life you’re accustomed to, but I promise I’ll take care of you.” He kissed your cheek and forehead. His kisses just dripping with the affection he had for you.

You really did not want to go through with the arranged marriage. You wanted nothing more than to remain by your knights side, but what about your kingdom?

Well it’s not like you came from a loving family, but you couldn’t help but still feel guilty. Not to mention you would probably end up executed once your future husband finds out that you are no longer pure.

“I love you too, Kyojuro.” You held his face so softly as you brought him in for a soft kiss. A kiss where you just poured all your emotions for him. No one had ever made you feel the way he did. His heart fluttered at your actions.

He chuckled against your lips. “Let’s get you cleaned up and let’s get the hell out of here, my love.”

——

Running away with Kyojuro was the best decision you could’ve ever made. You both ended up at his family’s farm which was secluded deep in the woods at the base of a mountain, away from either kingdom. It was located on an elevated hill that was covered in beautiful sunflowers in which, once you reached the top, gave a beautiful view of the mountains. It was secluded enough from the nearest village that no one would ever think of looking for you there.

You doubted anyone would try to look for you anyways. Kyojuro made sure to make the carriage seemed like it was attacked and ransacked before setting it on fire. He also made sure to leave his weapon and his armor damaged enough that it made it seem like he did not survive the attack.

Word from the nearby village, according to Rengokus family, was that your father blamed the other kingdom for your disappearance and declared war on them. Even though the other kingdom denied the accusations, your father had made up his mind and nothing could change his views. He was a stubborn man who believed you would never run away from your duty. Not to mention the state he himself found the carriage. It just helped seal any doubt he had.

But you could care less about what your family was up to.

Kyojuro had introduced you to his parents along with his little brother. To say you were shocked by how similar the Rengoku men looked was an understatement. And if his family recognized you, they didn’t say a word. The story Kyojuro had told them was that he had met you in the nearby town your castle was located in and that it was love at first sight. Neither you or his family doubted that part of the story.

His family accepted you with nothing but love and open arms. And as the years went by, they became the family you never had. You had grown close with his mother who taught you everything she knew from cooking to baking to house chores.

Of course, Kyojuro would never let you lift a finger when he was around. As much as you protested, he promised to keep treating you as a princess and that’s what he was going to do as long as you were by his side.

Eventually, he along with the help of his father, ended up building a small cottage on the other side of his family’s property, and when Kyojuro had decided that enough time had passed from your disappearance, he proposed and held a small wedding ceremony in the family farm where no one other than family and a small amount of close friends where invited. Not soon after his parents began asking for grandchildren. How you did not become pregnant your first night together will always be a mystery to you.

But eventually, you became pregnant multiple times throughout the years and gifted him four beautiful children. Three boys and one girl who were the spitting image of their father. Oh how you held a grudge against him for that.

However, no matter how much time passed, he never failed to make you feel as giddy as he did when you first met. He never broke his promise about treating you like a princess either. He would always do everything you said and always made sure you were content. He also never failed to thank you for choosing him and giving him a chance. He gave you a wonderful life where you knew nothing but peace, stability and love.

If you had the chance to do it all again, you would walk down the same path over and over again.

[mustymausoleum]

TEAMMATES ABANDONED (X1)

Leland Coyle x Reader [cis female reagent]

WARNINGS: hard dub-con, blood consumption, blood as lube, degradation, sadomasochism, violence, branding, unwanted arousal, gore, etc etc honestly

The blaring shriek of the shuttle siren has always sent a chill through you, compelling your every nerve to fight or flight. The haunting wail, distant and muffled by the concrete confines of the station basement, still reaches you as you cower.

The interior of the patrol car boot is sodden with what you can only assume is blood, the metallic stink mingling nauseatingly with the sickly sweetness of rot. Groping around the floor of your coffin for something, anything to be used as a weapon, bile rises in your throat as your quaking fingers interlace with another’s; icy with death.

Sudden silence falls over the trial grounds.

No. They couldn’t have. Those bastards didn’t leave me here to die.

Straining your ears in the newfound quiet, you listen for any sign that the ex-pop you were fleeing from has followed you down. For what feels like an eternity the only sound is your own jackhammering heartbeat, your terror growing deafening. At last, with trembling hands, you dare to pop the hood. The room before you is awash with the crimson glow of Pontiac tail lights, red as the viscera you languish upon.

“This little light’a mine… I’m gonna let it shine…”

A faint crackling accompanies the voice which cuts through the dark, the basement shutter slamming closed like a crack of thunder.

Startled, you slam the lid shut with more force than intended, frenzied in your panic.

“Huh?”

Heavy, booted footsteps echo through the lot, moving toward your location. You make yourself small with your hands clamped in a silent scream over you mouth, a trembling prey animal awaiting the death blow.

“Thought I only saw three’a those fucks leave.”

The metallic shriek of a nearby locker door swinging open almost forces a scream from you.

“I know yer in here, sweetness, c’mon out’n play,” he taunts, clearly revelling in the chase.

This is it. I’m about to die.

As if able to hear your thoughts, the footsteps reach you; ragged, anticipatory breath and sizzling electricity just outside your shelter.

The lid is thrown open and all at once he is upon you, taking a fistful of your hair at the root and dragging you from the vehicle, slamming your sanctuary shut. The wind is knocked from your lungs as he thrusts your back into the warped metal of the trunk, a leather-clad leg forcing your thighs apart.

“Thought you could hide from me, did’ya sugar?” his tone drips with satisfaction, “I got a nose fer filthy little whores like you, why I’m practically a bloodhound fer criminals.”

He brings the sparking tip of his prod before your face, the dancing blue light casting shadows across his scar mottled features. Drinking in your terrified expression, he grinds his stiffening cock against you with an obscene sound; somewhere between laughter and a groan.

“That’s right, keep on lookin at me just like that, I need you afraid.”

With a sudden motion he forces the electrified spokes into your cheek, holding your head in place by the hair with a vice like grip. It’s agony, and the scream you’ve been withholding finally tears from your throat.

“My, that’s a real pretty voice you got there, little lady.” He withdraws the rod, leaving an angry smouldering wound in its wake. “Yer gonna sing for me, my God, I’m gonna enjoy you.” Leaning in, letting his cigarette drop to the concrete, he licks a slow stripe up your cheek, savouring the taste and feel of his handiwork.

You can’t help but cry out again at the redoubled pain, and he rolls his hips hard into yours in response, his grip on your hair tightening.

In this position, his prod now lowered, you resolve to fight back with the only weapons you have; swiping at his face and sinking your nails as deep as they’ll go in the undulating scar tissue of his burnt side, knocking his glasses from him.

His eyes are wild as he releases your hair to catch your wrist, their steely blue contrasting against the rivulets of crimson which now trickle around them; wetting his facial hair and dripping onto your own horrified face beneath him.

“Mm, alright, this kitties’ got claws,” he groans, his expression betraying an unexpected enjoyment. His tongue darts across his bloodied lips. “I can take as good as I get, but that ain’t what I got in mind fer you, girl.”

Holstering the prod, he removes his ammunition belt and forces your wrists together, binding them tightly in leather. Crumpled cigarettes litter the ground as you writhe against your restraints, pulled tight enough to bruise. Pinned to the car with your hands bound you are helpless before him.

“Now, we can get a little protein in ya,” he croons, unbuckling his belt to pull his aching erection from its confines. His hand bloodied, he smears the still warm fluid over his length with an indulgent grunt, teasing the weeping slit with his thumb. “On yer knees, murderin’ whore.”

No amount of sleep room whisperings about the fates of Thin Blue Line victims could have prepared you for the reality you now face as you are unceremoniously forced onto your knees before him. His hand returns to pull at your hair, seeking leverage, as he presses the head of his cock against your trembling lips.

“Open wide, sweetlin, this is bout to be an honour and a privilege…”

He forces the thumb of his gloved hand between your teeth as he roughly thrusts his cock into your mouth. You gag around the intrusion, it’s too much, too deep, too fast, as he begins to rock his hips against your face.

“Fuck, yer so warm’n wet fer me,” he groans, tipping his head back.

The fist in your hair prevents you from escaping, forcing you to take it all the way to the base of the shaft. His cock is rough, bumpy with scar tissue and electrical burns, and the taste of blood and bitter precome coats your tongue.

“You done this before, I can -ngh- I can tell.” His pace slows a little, savouring the feeling of your tongue as it instinctively glides across the invasion. “I reckon there ain’t much you ain’t done, you sinful little harlot…”

Despite yourself, you can feel your body beginning to betray you. It’s been so long since you’ve last been fucked, since long before this facility, and the urgent heat growing between your thighs in response to each obscene sound Coyle makes is undeniable.

He yanks your head forward with each thrust, fucking your face as deep as he can go. At the sight of you beneath him, lips wrapped around his cock, messy with drool and blood with tears streaming down your face from gagging, a low moan rumbles in his chest.

“I’m gonna fuckin ruin you, sweetness,” he groans, mouth agape as he watches his cock slip in and out of you. “Oh Lord, such a pretty little thing, Fuck.”

His thrusts grow sloppier, faster, as he chases his looming orgasm; and it’s a wonder that you manage not to vomit from the abuse your throat is receiving from the head of his cock. His words dissolve into a garble of verbal abuse and sweet nothings as he feels himself on the precipice.

“Oh yeah, oh fuckin yeah, take it bitch, every inch of that cock you filthy pinko whore -ngh- shit, oh holy -uhg- m’gonna fuckin-“

With a strangled series of grunts and whines he pulls out of your drool slathered mouth, pumping thick ropes of come onto your bloodied and burnt face. His expression is pure filth, breath ragged as his basks in the afterglow of his climax, admiring his work.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63886246

[dadyscumslutprincess20]

~ Masterlist ~

• Shows I will write for/take request for •

~ Sweet home 1

~Sweet Home 2

~ The Uncanny Counter 1

~ The uncanny counter 2

~ Strong girl Nam-soon

~ Weak Hero Class 1

~ Alice in the Borderlands

~ Bloodhound

~ My name

~ Death game

~Night has come

~anime is welcome 💕including live actions if your need it and I can do it then don’t worry💕

~ Mouse

~ wind breaker (anime and WEBTOON)

~ Baki

~ Genre ~

~ Smut

~ Romance

~ Kinks

~Angst

~ plus more

Request are open

~ small thing with request , send name or person , show/Kdrama they are in , gender of reader , genre , if any kinks send them also 💕

~ this list is getting added to every chance I get

[zablife]

An Unexpected Family Gathering w/ John

John Shelby x female reader

A/N: Reconnecting or an Unexpected family gathering, requested by @runnning-outof-time. Details of the reader's relationship with dark!John requested by a lovely anon. Part of my Corrupt a Wish challenge.

Divider credit: @wethairjoel

Warnings: coercion, threat with a weapon, mention of poisoning Corrupt a wish reminder: If you think this story has a happy ending, you haven't been paying attention. Proceed with caution!

Your infatuation with John began before the war, cautious glances at his handsome features and girlish giggles behind your hands. He paid you no attention in those early days, too infatuated with his sweetheart, Martha. However, that didn't deter you from finding other ways to grow close to him.

It was Tommy who first recognized your potential as a messenger for the family business. No matter the danger, you always accepted, hoping John would hear of your bravery. If there was one thing you possessed over Martha, it was your fearless attitude.

During the war years you continued to help the family as much as possible. You prayed with Polly each morning for the three men away fighting and later for Martha's ailing health. When the time came, you took on the care of John's young children with nothing but love and devotion in your heart.

By the time the men returned from war, you were a permanent fixture at 57 Watery Lane, waiting for the day John would make you his wife. While he hadn't returned quite the same carefree young man you remembered, his bright blue eyes still held a spark of mischievous charm which made you hopeful.

You couldn't say that of his brothers, especially Tommy who began making aggressive moves to control more and more of the city. Within a few months of assuming leadership, Tommy was waging war against the Italians in a bid for power. Ruthless attacks were carried out by his men, cuttings and beatings becoming standard procedure.

The thought of John taking someone's eyes with a razor blade made you physically ill, but nothing compared to the callous way he presented his plan to cut Angel Changretta's throat as he lie helpless in a hospital bed. That's when you knew you'd heard enough.

Small Heath was no longer the place you wished to call home and you began planning an escape from its treacherous depths. However, John was like a bloodhound when it came to sniffing out fear. He sensed the change in you immediately and took the opportunity to question your loyalty in the worst way imaginable.

"I want you to invite Mrs. Changretta for tea at your parents' on Thursday," he casually mentioned as you were getting ready for bed one night.

"Why?" you asked, trying to keep your voice from trembling.

"Cos Tommy said," he gestured vaguely as if to say, If I haven't questioned him, neither should you.

You had the sinking feeling you were luring Mrs. Changretta into blinder territory for nefarious reasons and you quickly worked to appeal to your fiance. "She was our teacher in school, John. A kind, decent woman."

"Then she'll go to heaven, yeah?" he answered, brow furrowing in irritation.

Your heart lurched as you realized the Shelbys were going to kill her. Approaching John gently, you ran a hand across his cheek in hopes of bringing back the kind boy you remembered.

"You don't have to do this. You're not like Tommy, you know. I don't see the same thing in your eyes I see in his," you uttered as you pressed your forehead to his lightly.

Pulling away from your warm embrace, John's blue eyes iced over in a way you'd never witnessed. Grabbing your wrist in a brutal hold to show his determination, he spat, "Tommy puts a bloody roof over our heads or have you forgotten?"

You shook your head slowly, words failing you.

"So you'll do as he fucking says!" John spat, tossing your hand away.

You watched him storm downstairs and grab his coat, deciding to go for a drink instead. Looking back on that moment, you wished you'd run from him when you had the chance, but you didn't have the heart to abandon his children. So you stayed, agreeing to his plan if only to secretly warn Mrs. Changretta of the impending danger.

On the day of her social call, you tucked a small note into the sleeve of your blouse, ready to slip it to her at the soonest opportunity. Your anxious hands trembled when you began to arrange the scones Polly had brought earlier in the day, hoping your nerves didn't show.

Seeing Mrs. Changretta's kind face again soothed you immeasurably. She smiled up at you with the same warmth in her eyes you remembered from your school days and suddenly the memories of your youth came flooding back to you.

Noticing your eyes fill with tears, she asked innocently, "What is it dear?"

Turning your head to swipe a tear from your cheek, you relayed the tender memory of the times she brought you sweets.

"Those were good times," she acknowledged sadly. "Before the lads fell into the hands of the devil."

You took her hands in yours, seizing the moment to place the note to her palm. "It doesn't have to be this way," you whispered, giving her a small squeeze before relinquishing the paper to her grasp. The rest of the visit was carefully monitored by Tommy's soldiers and you didn't dare reach for her again.

That night you woke with John pressing the cold barrel of a gun into your side. Fueled by his outrage and the snow Isaiah had been supplying, he demanded you wake. "I know what you did, Y/n," he whispered as he pressed the weapon just below your ribs.

You gulped as you wondered what he would do to you, his jarring laughter making you afraid to move or even breath beneath his touch.

"The old cunt fell over dead from Polly's scones," he informed you cruelly. "So you see, your little warning was useless." His lip curled into a menacing sneer as he watched your face crumble in despair.

"No!" you cried. "I didn't mean to..."

"But you did," he answered in a mocking tone, releasing the safety with a harsh click.

"John, please," you begged as he began to stroke your arm with a gentle touch that belied the venom in his serpent like hiss.

“You’re so pretty. I couldn’t shoot you.” Cold steel meeting your temple he ghosted the weapon down your jawline as he whispered, “No, I’m not gonna kill you.”

His torture seemed endless as he kept you awake into the early morning hours. Amazed that you were still alive to see the dawn, you pleaded with the man who'd promised to love you forever.

"Let me go, John. Please let me see my family," you begged.

"You will, sweetheart," he promised, knowing the punishment Tommy had devised for you. You would be reunited with your parents on the gallows soon after the arrests for the murder of Audrey Changretta.

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[neysaadept]

Prometheus Chapter 10

Emily Prentiss x Female CIA Reader

Chapter 10 - Ladies' Night

Side note- I love how the gif is five shots 🥳

Tags: Limited use of y/n but established last name. Swearing, mentions of the pandemic and human and sex trafficking. Canon typical violence. Sexual innuendos. Drinking. Smoking. Slow Burn. Murder. Depictions of Flaying. Implied Rape. Mentions of Date Rape Drugs. Strangulation. Restraints. Mental Institutions. PTSD. Childhood trauma. Psychological Trauma. Implied references to child abuse. Mentions of Arson. Religious Discussion. Mentions of Religious Extremism. Mentions of Suicide Bombings. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 2.9k (Shorter chapter but I think has a lot of meat to it)

AO3

Chapter 9

“So how long we waiting for Emily to show up?” asks Tara. “She said she’s coming, right?”

Penelope nods. “Yes! She did. Ugh, she better not be working late. She promised!”

JJ has her phone out to text her. “I’m sure she’s running late and not being an ass staying at work. If she is, I’ll personally kill her this time.”

All three of them had arrived at the Fireside Lounge roughly the same time and pushed two high top tables together with five chairs surrounding them. They had waited on ordering drinks until they were all together but after twenty minutes and Prentiss being a no show, the ladies were getting restless.

“Ah! She says she’ll be here in fifteen. Apologizes for running late and will explain why when she gets here,” JJ announces, pleased. “Won’t have to kill her.”

“JJ …” Penelope whines. “I know you’re joking, but our Emily makes such jokes almost realities so, please don’t?”

“Yes, yes. Sorry. I only say it out of love though.”

“Which I can’t really blame her,” says Tara with a grin. “We do love our Prentiss.”

“Fine, yes. Hooray! We love, Emily. Speaking of Emily,” Penelope starts looking right at JJ, “and to change the subject…” She brings her arms atop the table and her body is thrumming with gossip, “… did you totally see her eying our cutie today?”

“Eying?” Tara chuckles. “You mean ogling. But it got her off our backs for going MIA on her. I don’t think Whitlock even noticed.”

“Yeah, have to agree there. She didn’t notice a thing,” confirms JJ.

“I’m surprised you were even paying attention, Jareau. Especially with all that trash talk you were doing,” taunts Tara.

“Oh please. I’m like a bloodhound when Emily shows even the slightest interest in anyone. Which has been a long fucking time. Even before the pandemic.”

“And her last serious relationship was with that girl Goodman before she got transferred to the Dallas office. Girl wanted to U-Haul Prentiss something fierce,” Tara says with a cackle.

Melanie Goodman was an FBI special agent the team met during a local case. Her and Prentiss hit it off, but Goodman wanted a lot more very quickly. In typical fashion, Prentiss dragged her feet on what she wanted, and when Goodman got a promotion to head up the Dallas office, she wanted Emily to come along. Thus, concluding that relationship. But truthfully, the two of them were doomed from the start. Emily wasn’t ready to open her heart and just wanted a physical relationship, then maybe see how things were going. And as she was bad at communicating her needs, the relationship crashed and burned the night before Goodman’s flight out to Dallas with a huge argument.

“Well, she is looking to get some,” says JJ offhandedly that makes Penelope smack her arm. “Ow! Hey!”

“Spill!”

“It was nothing. Really!” JJ defends herself when Garcia stares her down. “Just an off the cuff comment about not getting laid. One of the few people at the office not getting any.”

“Interesting …” Garcia looks to Tara. “Anything you can add to this?”

Tara looks confused. “Like what?”

“You and Rebecca had dinner with Whitlock. Know any, I dunno, preferences?” Garcia presses.

“Preferences for what?” But then Tara realizes what Garcia was fishing for and holds up a finger. “Oh no. We are not playing matchmaker with these two.”

“So, she does like women?!” squeals Penelope.

“No, no, no, no! I did not say that,” Tara states firmly but then starts bobbing her head in thought. “Though probably, yeah.”

“What do you mean?” asks Penelope with a shrill.

“Because she’s queer considering the story they told me.”

JJ looks with interest, raising her brows. “Which was… ?”

With the two of them looking pathetically expectantly, Tara gave in. And Whitlock didn’t mind Rebecca telling the story of how the two of them met, so there’s no reason to not believe that it would have circulated already within the BAU family.

“Alright, it’s about how the two of them met. Her and Rebecca.” Tara starts to explain, and JJ and Penelope lean in closer, absorbed by the story. “They were set up on a potential date. Bunch of girls at the DOJ wanted to hang out and used that as pretense. What they were really trying to do was set up my girl and Whitlock.”

“Aaaaaaand?!” Penelope’s desire for gossip was making her impatient which made JJ snigger.

“Calm down, Pen! Give me a chance to explain the whole story!” scolds Tara. “Now, both of them didn’t know Rebecca’s friend Mandy, who’s also friends with Whitlock, was trying to get them together for awhile and the mastermind behind it all. They all show up at a bar and of course everyone is making sure there’s a chair open by Rebecca for our girl to take. Both of them play stupid as to what was really going on. But at one point, they go get some more drinks at the bar and basically end up apologizing for Mandy at the same time and laugh it off. They said they realized they’ll probably end up being good friends at that point.”

“That’s kind of adorable,” JJ says with gleam in her eyes. “No wonder they’ve kept in touch for so long.”

“Exactly. But that’s not even the best part.”

Penelope claps. “And here we go.”

“So, the next day they’re at work together, they’re pretending they hit it off and are dating.” JJ and Penelope start laughing. “They do this for a whole week just to mess with this Mandy. I guess this girl would not take no for an answer. Kept meddling getting them together for a while, or whatever. So, they give her what she wanted. Put on a whole show for her when Whitlock visited Rebecca at work. Our girl even sent her flowers! Can you believe that?”

“I already loved her and now, I love her more,” Penelope declares firmly.

JJ has to agree. “She goes all in on things, huh?”

Tara nods, “Whitlock confirmed that at dinner. She loves getting into mischief with the right people. They were wondering how far they could take it, but Mandy finally figured out she was being fucked with. She was so embarrassed and never talked to them again.”

“How’d she find out?” asks JJ.

“By overhearing us without our knowledge,” you said, sneakily coming in with Prentiss. “Poor work on my part considering I’m CIA. Utterly embarrassing.”

“AAAHHH! YOU’RE HERE!” Penelope shrieks with pure joy and jumps off her stool to squeeze you tightly. “You said you couldn’t come, but you’re here!”

You half cough and half laugh, looking to Prentiss who has to sidestep away from you since Penelope’s forceful hug almost knocked you into her. “Yeah, well …”

But you didn’t have to come up with anything to say as she did it for you. “New boss asked old boss for some leeway. I basically pulled the we used to work together card.” She offers. “And Korogoth didn’t mind at all.”

You smile with gratitude at the partial truth given by her, humbled that Prentiss was doing that for you in front of her longtime friends and coworkers. That wave of affection for the section chief came over you once more and you had to look away from her. You weren’t sure what to say but JJ saves you.

“Now I feel bad for taking your fifty, Whitlock.”

Penelope finally relinquishes her hug and wraps an arm around yours, leading you to the chair by hers. Prentiss takes a seat between you and Tara. “Well, I can always take it back …” you offer candidly but JJ just laughs.

“I’m not feeling that bad. Ah!” She threatens a finger towards you. “Don’t sit yet. Come with me to get drinks. There’s five of us now and I need help.”

“Happy to.” You slide free from between Penelope and Prentiss and walk off with JJ to get the first round.

That left Penelope and Tara staring down Emily who looks befuddled at the scrutiny. “What?”

“Lotta effort getting Whitlock here. Not that we’re minding her company,” starts Tara which only made Emily lean forward with scrutinizing eyes as to where this was going.

“Really wanted her here for girls’ night, huh?” Penelope says with a knowing look.

“Well, yeah. Of course I did.” She sits up straighter on the chair, tapping the table idly. “She’s supposed to be on vacation and ends up helping us. Last thing she needs is working double duty.”

Penelope and Tara share a look that Emily notices. “Okay, what?”

Tara decides to get her to explain further. “Is that all? Just being a concerned boss?”

“What else could it possibly be?” she asks, hoping this isn’t going where she fears it is. She didn’t forget how Penelope was looking at her yesterday during the spar.

“Uh, the cutie over there by the bar, of course!” Penelope accuses.

Damn it!

“There’s a lot of people by the bar,” she deflects.

“To clarify, the CIA operative that you found so hot yesterday, it made you forget you were mad at the entire unit and then … joined in on the betting,” Tara reminds with a haughty smile.

Emily inwardly sighs once again regretting she works with a bunch of profilers. It wouldn’t matter if she tried to deny what happened earlier. She couldn’t lie to herself about the budding attraction she had for you, especially after your conversation together on the drive here.

“How long were you a spy?” The ride had been quiet, but this question was weighing on your mind.

“You don’t know?” she says with surprise, coming to stop at a redlight.

You look at her cheekily. “I know a lot of things, but not everything. Besides, I rather hear it from you.”

She chuckles. “Fair enough. Close to nine years.”

You nod. “Long time.”

“Not as long as you,” she counters.

“True.” You didn’t even hide your vocation anymore. Prentiss had a way of disarming you and Brian gave her a bit of clearance. “How do you know Brian?”

“Pardon?”

You look at her suspiciously. “You heard me just fine, Prentiss. He doesn’t just let anyone know about me. Even with section chief cred. He trusts you.” You catch Prentiss’ gaze when she looks to you expectantly and you simply ask, “Why?”

She is forced to look away as the light turns green and starts driving again. “Our paths crossed when I worked Interpol. We collaborated on a case.”

You repeatedly nod at that while bringing your attention forward. As you are aware the ending of the Doyle case meant Prentiss being transferred to the FBI that this was a case prior to that three-year stint. “That was a while ago.”

“Yes, it was.” She says it with melancholic introspection. She shifts gears, taking a chance. “What were you up to back then?”

“Define back then. I like specifics.”

“2002.”

“Investigating suicide bombings in Israel.”

Prentiss winces, knowing it was a bad year for those bombings. “That was a really rough year.”

That year and the next were bloody. It took combined efforts of the US Department of Defense, Interpol and the Isreal government to determine Iran, Iraq and Libya were involved in those terror attacks.* You worked with the bomb units identifying materials and tracing it back to the source. Following that, you found the money trail, which led to names that were given to the respective governments involved in the investigations.

You understand the logical themes behind religion and its ability to bring individuals in. They provide community, a sense of purpose and belonging, and a truth to why you are on this planet. People that have little control in their life are easily swayed to something that has strict rules and a way of life to explain all of its uncertainties. But then you have these charismatic leaders that swoop in and promise you eternal glory by blowing yourself up and murdering others. They only cared about power and control.

You weren’t religious before your recruitment, and you certainly saw no need to be after witnessing the horrors of the world.

Prentiss looked at you quickly, wondering why you suddenly went quiet. She felt her comment was open ended and shouldn’t have tripped you up. “You okay there, Whitlock?”

You look at her and brazenly ask a personal question. “You religious?”

“Ah …” She fumbles at the complicated question. “I was raised Catholic.”

“That doesn’t tell me if you’re religious,” you point out immediately.

“Are you?”

The deflection was an unspoken admission of a tricky relationship with faith. “I believe there’s evil in the world and it’s up to people like us to stop it. Seen too much to think otherwise.”

Caused too much of it to be absolved by any fucking deity anyway … you thought regretfully.

Prentiss makes a long face as she tries to interpret that response. She didn’t want to discount your reasoning for feeling this way because there is truth to your words. “I can understand that.”

You cross your arms defensively as you allow the same vulnerability to come out like it did back at the apartment. “And … helps calm the demons inside. Helping the helpless, ya know?”

Which Prentiss did. She admitted as much on the jet and now agreed with a darkened tone. “I do.”

The ease in which she talks with you and the spoken and unspoken cues that you truly understood her without detailed explanations were astounding to her. She had deep connections with members of the BAU as close friends who were found family, JJ especially so, but not once did a romantic relationship blossom into something close to that level of transparency. Admittedly, there was that potential with you.

“I’m her boss.” She hears how lame that is as do the others.

“She’s a consultant and reports to Korogoth at the end of the day,” counters Tara. “Try again.”

“We don’t know if she’s into women.”

“Good chance she is,” says Penelope and Emily’s eyes widen in question to which she is happy to provide. “How Whitlock and Wilson met. Next!”

“Whoa, back it up.” This was genuine interest and not an attempt to sidestep around the conversation. “What do you mean that’s how they met?”

“Oh, I know what this is about,” you say while playing waitress and handing out the sunset shots with JJ. She insisted on fun fruity shots, not something boring.  “This about me and Rebecca.”

“That was pretty funny.” JJ playfully scrunches her nose. “Especially when you sent her flowers.”

“Sent flowers to who?” asks a confused Emily.

Penelope and Tara answer together. “Rebecca.”

“Wait.” Emily pushes against the table so she can angle herself to look at you as you sit down beside her. “You and Rebecca dated?’

Everyone at the table begins laughing, leaving Emily put out. “Guys! Can someone please tell me what’s so funny?”

“Sorry, Emily,” you say, trying to calm your laughs, but then end up laughing harder seeing how dour the section chief’s expression is. It was cute how Emily hated being the last to understand something.

“Guys …” Emily says, gritting her teeth.

“Okay, okay!” Tara manages to control herself first. “The two of them didn’t date. But, they were set up.”

“In a bullshit way.” You sit back in a huff as you explain further. “We didn’t even know it was supposed to be a date. Just some hanging out with friends. But this girl …” You snap your fingers trying to jog your memory. “What the fuck was her name …?”

“Mandy,” supplies Penelope quite quickly, proving she still deserves being the queen of gossip recollection.

“Oh my god, yes! That’s her name. Mandy!” You chuckle. “Yeah, so she did this after I told her I wasn’t interested in dating anyone, but not listening, went behind my back. Rebecca wasn’t thrilled either, so we played pretend girlfriends.”

Emily holds her head and starts to laugh. “And knowing you …”

“I was all in. Ah …” you grin, playing with the shot glass. “Rebecca being so cool with it is why I knew we’d be good friends.”

With you wistfully looking down, Penelope looks right at Emily and mouths a silent, ‘Gay!’ which makes her blush and JJ fights a laugh seeing that exchange.

“Well, I think I can speak for all of us here, and not just because me and Rebecca are together, that we’re all happy that friendship happened. Because if not, you wouldn’t be here,” Tara says with sincerity, and then shrugs mischievously. “But I guess Emily’s got something to do with that too.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, for fuck’s safe. Are we drinking or not? Because you profilers talk too damn much.”

There was a chorus of oohs around the table at the dig, but Penelope slaps it with purpose. “She’s right. This is girls’ night out and we haven’t had one drink! Time to fix that. Ladies!”

The five of you take your shot glasses and follow Penelope’s lead by lifting them up for a toast. “To Whitlock finally having a proper night out with us.”

“Cheers!” everyone says, including you, before clinking your glasses together and knocking back the first round of drinks.

RE: Amateur Fire Start Up

KarmaKat: Gasoline. Lots. Won’t be suspicious when getting it.

               Replying to KarmaKat and w@mpum@:

               FlamePit23: Don’t listen to him. More isn’t better. Gas is good but need proper accelerants placed in key locations. That is what gives you the desired effect you’re looking for.

                              Replying to FlamePit23, KarmaKat and w@mpum@:

                                             User45125: As always, you got solid recommendations. Good to see you back.

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[atlasthegreatest]

Cards on the Table/ Barbara Gordon x Gambit!Female Reader

Barbara finally introduces Y/n as her girlfriend to the Bat-family. And despite their initial skepticism, Y/n charms win them over, earning her place in their life.

Word count: 2630

A/n: This was requested by an anon. Thanks for this ask, I like Barbara (she’s best girl #2). Enjoy it!

Barbara Gordon had done the impossible. She’d kept a secret from Batman.

It wasn't easy. Bruce had the instincts of a bloodhound when it came to anything involving his allies, especially his family. But this one — her relationship — she'd managed to shield, mostly because she wanted to savor it before the inevitable Batfamily grilling. That time, though, had come.

Barbara straightened her jacket as she glanced over at her girlfriend, who stood beside her, casually twirling a deck of cards between her fingers. She wore a mischievous grin, her hair hanging just past her shoulders, and her eyes sparkled with an energy Barbara knew all too well. Y/n LeBeau. Known for her powers of controlling kinetic energy and her alias as ‘Gambit’ among the fighting crime community — and the same Southern charm mixed with a playful recklessness. Barbara couldn’t deny the magnetism. It was exactly what had drawn her in from the beginning.

Y/n winked, flicking one of the cards with her thumb, causing it to glow softly before the charge dissipated. "You sure they're ready for me, chérie?"

Barbara let out a small chuckle. "Honestly? I don’t know if anyone's ever ready for you, but we have to do this sooner or later."

The Batcave was bustling tonight. Dick and Damian sparred in the training area, Jason leaned against the Batcomputer like he was holding it up, and Bruce was, predictably, deep in thought, reviewing something on the screens. Tim was nearby, tinkering with one of his latest gadgets. It was the usual chaos.

As they approached, Dick was the first to notice, flipping over Damian and landing gracefully, wiping sweat from his brow. “Hey, Babs! What’s up?” His eyes flickered to the woman next to her, eyebrows lifting. “Who’s this?”

Barbara took a breath. "Everyone, this is Y/n. She's... my girlfriend."

That got everyone's attention. Bruce turned from the computer, Jason stood up straighter, and Damian stopped mid-kick.

Dick's smile widened immediately, genuine and warm. “Oh, wow! Nice to meet you, Y/n.” He extended a hand, always the friendly one.

The girl in question took his hand, her grip firm, but she couldn’t help but smirk, sensing Dick’s slight wariness despite his welcoming demeanor. “Pleasure’s all mine, sugar.”

Jason folded his arms, his eyes narrowing as he sized Y/n up. “Powers?” He was blunt as ever.

Y/n’s grin widened as she pulled out a card, charging it lightly with a pinkish tone. “ I make things go boom,” She said casually, tossing the card in the air before catching it again. “ But only when I wanna’. ”

Tim, ever the tech head, stepped forward, eyes intrigued rather than suspicious. "How does the kinetic charging work? Is it limited to objects or can you charge other things?"

Barbara stifled a laugh as Y/n leaned in a bit closer to Tim. “Oh, I could explain it, but then I’d have to kiss ya.” She winked, teasing him just enough to cause a blush to creep up Tim’s face.

Tim cleared his throat, clearly flustered, retreating to the safety of his gadgets. "R-right, got it."

Jason, arms still crossed, glanced at Barbara. “Seriously, Babs? Gambit? Couldn't be anyone else?”

Barbara rolled her eyes, knowing Jason's brand of skepticism well. “Yes, Gambit. And for the record, she’s her own person, Jay.”

Before Jason could retort, Bruce spoke, his voice cutting through the atmosphere. “How long has this been going on?” Typical Bruce—straight to the point, no frills.

Barbara met his gaze evenly. “Six months. I didn’t tell you because… well, I wanted to figure things out first.”

Bruce's expression was unreadable as his eyes flicked between Barbara and Y/n. “And now you’ve figured it out?”

Barbara’s heart pounded in her chest, but she didn’t flinch. “Yes, I have.”

Y/n, ever the wildcard, stepped forward, hands in her pockets, and met Bruce’s gaze directly. “Look, I know this ain’t exactly what you were expectin’, and I know how much ya care about your family. I respect that. Babs means the world to me, and I ain’t here to cause trouble—unless it’s the fun kind, of course.” She flashed a grin that only half-diffused the tension.

Bruce’s eyes narrowed, as though he were mentally running a thousand scenarios. He looked at Barbara again, his voice softer this time. “Is she good for you?”

The question wasn’t an accusation but genuine concern, and Barbara felt a swell of emotion at how Bruce, despite everything, always tried to protect her. She placed a hand on Y/n’s arm. “Yes. She’s good for me.”

There was a long pause before Bruce gave a curt nod, his acceptance not verbal but understood. “Just don’t blow up the Cave.”

Y/n’s laugh echoed off the cavern walls. “No promises, big guy.”

Damian, who had been silent this entire time, finally stepped forward, arms crossed and an annoyed look on his face. “If you attempt any indecency in this cave or distract us from missions, I’ll have no choice but to—”

“Lemme guess,” Y/n interrupted, stepping toward Damian and looking down at the shorter boy. “Gut me?”

Damian's glare was fierce, but Y/n’s grin was fiercer. “You got spirit, kid. I like that.”

Barbara held back a chuckle as Damian scowled. “Tch. You’re intolerable.”

“And you’re adorable,” Y/n fired back with a wink, which only deepened Damian’s scowl as he stormed off to the training area.

Jason let out a bark of laughter. “Oh, I like her.”

Dick nudged Barbara with a grin. “I think she’s gonna fit right in.”

Barbara finally exhaled, feeling a sense of relief wash over her. It wasn’t the easiest introduction, but that was how the family worked. Y/n had passed the first test, and Barbara could feel the weight lifting. Whatever came next, they’d handle it together.

“Well,” Y/n said, stretching her arms behind her head. “Now that the formalities are outta the way, how ‘bout we have some fun?”

Barbara shot her a playful glare. “No charging the Batmobile.”

Y/n raised her hands in mock surrender. “I’d never dream of it, here. Maybe.”

—————————-

Later that night, after the tension of introductions had simmered down, the Batfamily had gathered in the common area of Wayne Manor. For once, the cave was quiet. Bruce had gone back to work at the Batcomputer, Damian had stormed off to train, but the rest of the family stayed to linger, intrigued by Barbara’s new relationship and by Y/n’s effortlessly bold personality.

The woman had kicked back on the couch, lounging in the most casual way possible, legs propped up on the armrest and a deck of cards still in her hands. Barbara sat next to her, occasionally rolling her eyes at Y/n’s endless card tricks but unable to hide the fond smile on her face.

Dick, ever the conversationalist, broke the silence. “So, Y/n, how’d you two meet? Was it a daring heist where you swooped in and stole Barbara’s heart?” His tone was playful, but there was a genuine curiosity behind his words.

Y/n grinned, tossing a card in the air and catching it without looking. “Almost, ‘cept it wasn’t a heist. Was more of a… rescue mission, wasn’t it, Babs?”

Barbara nodded, leaning back into the couch. “We were after the same target—some low-level metahuman causing trouble in Blüdhaven. I was running recon and she… well, she just appeared out of nowhere, charged half the warehouse with her powers, and made the guy panic.”

Y/n chuckled, clearly enjoying the memory. “He started runnin’, I gave chase, and Babs here swooped in with that fancy grapple line of hers. Next thing ya know, we’re workin’ together.”

Jason, sitting on the edge of a chair, raised an eyebrow. “And just like that, you two were a team?”

Barbara glanced sideways at Y/n with a small smile. “Not exactly. She tried to flirt with me, mid-mission. I thought it was a distraction tactic at first.”

Y/n’s smirk deepened. “And yet, here we are. Guess I’m more persuasive than you thought, Chérie.”

Tim, now more comfortable, looked up from his tablet. “So, you control kinetic energy, but you do…what? Vigilante work? Or just solo operations?”

Y/n shrugged, not one to overexplain herself. “I dabble in a little of this, a little of that. Worked solo for a while—figured the streets didn’t need another caped crusader. But I saw potential in what Babs was doin’, helpin’ people. Got me thinkin’ maybe I could make a difference.”

Barbara leaned in slightly, her voice softer but confident. “She’s been working with me, quietly. We’ve handled a few cases together. She’s smart and tactical. And yes, she blows things up, but she’s precise about it.”

“Mostly precise,” Y/n corrected with a wink. And a laugh was shared between her and the redhead woman.

Dick’s face lit up, looking between them. “Sounds like you’re a good team. Honestly, Babs, it’s nice seeing you with someone who’s got your back. I mean, besides all of us.” His tone was sincere, his big-brother energy kicking in as always.

Jason snorted. “Yeah, as long as she doesn’t blow up Wayne Tower or something, I’m sure it’ll all work out.”

Y/n tossed him a charged card, just enough to spark in the air before fizzling out in his lap. “Only if I’m bored, Red.”

Jason gave a mock glare but couldn’t help the small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Alright, alright. I like her attitude, at least.”

Barbara felt a warmth spread through her. Despite the initial grilling, she could see they were coming around. Y/n was a lot to take in—flamboyant, flirty, and unpredictable—but she was good at her core, and the family was beginning to see that.

“Hey,” Dick said suddenly, “how’s Bruce taking all of this? I mean, he didn’t say much after ‘don’t blow up the cave,’ but you know him. He’s always got a million thoughts running in the background.”

Barbara sighed, her shoulders relaxing now that the worst of the night was behind them. “He’ll be fine. You know how he is—he processes things quietly. He doesn’t always show it, but… I think he trusts me.”

Y/n, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, smirked. “Or maybe he’s just scared I’ll charge his Batsuit when he ain’t lookin’. ”

Tim snickered from the other side of the room. “I think he’s more concerned about the Batmobile.”

Barbara shot her girlfriend a mock warning glare. “I told you. No charging the Batmobile.”

Y/n raised her hands innocently. “I’d never, Babs. Promise.” Then she winked, her mischievous streak still fully intact.

The conversation drifted into more casual territory, with Y/n and Dick exchanging light-hearted banter while Tim and Jason grilled her with a thousand questions about her powers. Y/n took it all in stride, even offering to give them a demonstration of her skills the next time they were in the field together.

As the night wore on, Barbara found herself leaning against Y/n, her hand casually resting on Y/n’s knee, feeling more at ease than she had in months. The introductions were out of the way, and, surprisingly, everything had gone better than expected. Even Jason, who had a habit of being skeptical about everything, seemed to be warming up to Y/n’s chaotic energy.

Eventually, the family began to disperse. Dick was the first to leave, giving Barbara a quick hug and offering Y/n a friendly salute. Tim followed soon after, muttering something about needing to finish a project, while Jason stayed a bit longer, still intrigued by Y/n’s powers.

As they all left, Y/n turned to Barbara, her smirk softening into something more genuine. “That wasn’t so bad, was it, Mon Cher?”

Barbara smiled, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from Y/n’s face. “No, it wasn’t. I think they like you.”

“Even Bruce?” Y/n asked, raising an eyebrow.

Barbara chuckled softly. “Even Bruce. He’s just… Bruce. Give him time. He’ll come around.”

Y/n grinned, leaning in down to press a soft kiss to Barbara’s lips. “Well, if I can win over Batman, I reckon I can do anything.”

Barbara felt her heart swell, knowing that, despite the rough edges, Y/n fit. Maybe not perfectly, but in the way that only someone like Y/n could—in the way that challenged her, pushed her, but also made her feel alive. She squeezed Y/n’s hand, feeling content, knowing that this—whatever this was—was just the beginning.

And whatever came next, they’d face it together.

Bonus:

The next time Y/n hung out at the manor, it didn’t take long for things to get... interesting.

They were all sitting in the living room. Dick, Tim, and Jason had stuck around after a brief debrief with Bruce, casually lounging while Y/n shuffled her ever-present deck of cards. Barbara sat beside her, relaxed, while the guys were trying — and failing — to follow Y/n’s story about one of her old missions.

“So dere I was,” Y/n said, a mischievous glint in her red eyes, “down in Nawlins, right by da Quarter. I spot dis guy, a real boug crescent, lookin’ like he ‘bout to fricassee up somethin’ nasty.”

Dick blinked, his face a mix of polite confusion. “A… what?”

“Fricassee? Like the dish?” Tim asked, frowning slightly as he tapped on his phone, probably looking up Cajun terms as she spoke.

Jason leaned back, arms crossed, and raised an eyebrow. “Did she just say ‘crescent’? What does that even mean?”

Y/n didn’t miss a beat, casually tossing a card in the air before catching it. “Yeah, y’know, a lowdown varmint. Crescent. Ain’t gotta be a bayou native t’know that, cher.” She threw a playful wink at Jason.

Jason just narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out if Y/n was messing with them or if this was actually how she talked. He was leaning toward the former.

Dick shot Barbara a look, completely lost. “Are we supposed to be getting this?”

Barbara chuckled, used to this by now. “She means she was tailing a shady guy who looked like he was up to no good.”

“Ohhh,” Tim said, his face lighting up with realization. “Okay, yeah, that makes sense now. Fricassee, huh.”

Y/n nodded like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Right, so dis boug, he thinks he’s sneaky, right? But I ain’t no couillon, I see ‘im clear as day, tryin’ to lagniappe his way outta da Quarter.”

Jason blinked, leaning forward slightly. “Couil—what? Lag—what did she just say?”

“Couillon,” Barbara translated with a grin, “means idiot. And lagniappe is… like, getting away with something extra.”

Y/n laughed, clearly enjoying watching the three of them struggle to keep up. “Y’all need t’spend more time down south. Get a little Cajun spice in ya.” She winked at Barbara, who smirked back.

Dick shook his head, amused but defeated. “I feel like I’m watching a foreign movie without subtitles.”

Tim nodded in agreement, giving up on trying to translate Y/n’s speech in real time. “Seriously, how do you follow all of that?” He asked, turning to look at the redhead in front of him.

Barbara shrugged, an amused smile playing on her lips. “I guess I just got used to it. After a while, it makes sense.” She glanced at Y/n with fondness in her eyes, while caressing her hand — that was now on her lap— with her thumb. “Plus, half the time I can just tell by the look on her face.”

Y/n grinned proudly. “Told ya I was a good communicator.”

Jason leaned back with a smirk. “You’re somethin’, alright. But if you start throwing out any more of these ‘crescent varmint’ types, I might need a translator app.”

Y/n winked at him. “Aww, don’t worry, Red. I’ll take it easy on ya.”

Dick chuckled, shaking his head. “I think we’re all gonna need Barbara here just to get through half of these stories.”

Barbara smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her. Sure, they might not always get Y/n’s colorful phrases, but they were trying, and that meant the world to her. Y/n just had that effect on people, throwing them off balance but winning them over all the same.

“Well,” Y/n said, leaning back with a satisfied grin, “guess I gotta keep y’all on your toes, don’t I?”

[laylahluvsasians]

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 + 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

✧ hii my name is laylah

✧ im a student at princeton university

✧ 22 years old

✧ bisexual

✧ i feen for gong yoo

𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞:

－ ZERO incest/stepincest, pedophilla, etc.

－ rape, sexual assult, unwanted touch, pregnancy.

－ will only write teacher x student if its in college and LEGAL.

－ illegal age gaps.

－ male readers

－ wont write about rapist, racist or problematic characters/people

－ wont write about minors regardless if they’re aged up or not.

－ character x character, cinema ships (canon or not.)

－ threesomes or poly relationships.

－ mlm or m!reader x female characters

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞

－ female readers

－ age gaps (legal)

－ college professor x of age student or teacher x teacher

－ wlw

－ both women and men

－ smut, fluff, angst.

𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬/𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫

⍟ squid game

⍟ train to busan

⍟ a man and a woman

⍟ silent sea

⍟ bloodhounds

⍟ coffee prince

⍟ alice in borderland

⍟ strangers from hell

⍟ friendly rivalry

⍟ mr.plankton

⍟ pretty little liars

⍟ the vampire diaries

𝐤𝐩𝐨𝐩 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐬 𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫

⍟ black pink (all members)

⍟ BTS (all members)

⍟ TWICE (all members)

⍟ straykids (all members)

⍟ le sserafim (all members)

⍟ p1harmony (all members)

⍟ seventeen (all members)

⍟ BIGBANG (all members excluding seungri)

⍟ NJZ (all members)

⍟ ATEEZ (all members)

⍟ AESPA (all members)

⍟ ITZY (all members)

𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬/𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫

⍟ gong yoo (mainly)

⍟ lee jung-jae

⍟ lee byun-hun

⍟ yim siwan

⍟ lee dong wook

⍟ jo yu-ri

⍟ hoyeon

⍟ wi ha-joon

⍟ won ji-an

⍟ lee yoo-mi

⍟ kang ha-neul

⍟ woo do-hwan

⍟ lee hyeri

⍟ nina dobrev

⍟ kat graham

⍟ paul wesley

⍟ chris wood

⍟ kento yamazaki

⍟ nijirō murakami

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫

⍟ the salesman

⍟ hankyul

⍟ ki-hong

⍟ han yun-jae

⍟ gi-hun

⍟ hwang inho

⍟ hwang jun-ho

⍟ semi

⍟ junhee

⍟ saebyeok

⍟ hyun-ju

⍟ daeho

⍟ katherine pierce

⍟ bonnie bennet

⍟ stefan salvatore

⍟ caroline forbes

⍟ spencer hastings

⍟ aria montgomery

⍟ emily fields

⍟ hanna marin

⍟ tony cavanough

⍟ alison dilaurentis

⍟ jong-woo

⍟ moon-jo

⍟ hae-jo

⍟ geon-woo

⍟ jae-i

⍟ arisu

⍟ chishiya

⍟ usagi

⍟ kuina

⍟ ann

- 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃, 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐖.