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b4mpyre-k1zz3s · 6 months ago

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Hail, Asmodeus!

Y/N, a chronicly lonely woman, resorts to some…drastic measures to supplement her nonexistent love life.

Incubus!Bam Margera X Fem!Reader

(Fluff)

1.9k Words

Warnings: Extremely suggestive content, mention of creepy guys, demonic rituals, stalking, animal death mention, wet dreams, predator/prey dynamic

An: Thank you so much for your requests!! This fic was heavily inspired by this post by @haggarrd and this SPECTACULAR piece of fan art by @the-commonrose which was living in my head for an actual year before I wrote this XD I listened to October Rust on loop while writing this and I think you can tell ;) Anyways, thank you for sending in requests and please, please keep them coming! My inbox is dryer than the desert rn

It was a stupid idea, but you were getting desperate. You were a grown ass woman, and you had never been in a serious relationship. Working from home, you never really got out much and spent a majority of your free time playing video games alone like some antisocial teenager. Even in high school, you never quite developed those oh so important social skills everyone else seemed to have. You yearned for friendship, sure, but you wanted more than that. If not a relationship, as embarrassing as this sounds, all you really needed was affection- something those filthy romance novels you stuck your nose in every night just couldn’t give you. So yeah, maybe you were a little pathetic.

But after trying to meet guys on the internet turned out to be a bust because you ran into one too many creepy dudes, you decided to swear that off, and given the fact you couldn’t talk to men, dating the traditional face-to-face way was out of the question. So one weekend, when you would otherwise be rotting in your bed, laying with your computer on your chest like an otter, you decided to do a little research. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and your solution came to you from, of all places, a seedy Internet forum on the occult. it’s not like you really believed in any of that pentagram of salt, light five black candles crap, but hell, you didn’t have anything to lose.

So, that Friday night, a time for well adjusted adults to go out drinking, party, and screw, you were trying to summon a demon. Yeah, real picture of maturity here. It was an incubus, the website specified- which you only just then learned wasn’t only the name of a band but also apparently some kind of male sex demon, which was close enough to what you were looking for. You went about setting everything up, with all the candles and saying nonsense in Latin, but even after you smudged enough herbs to make your apartment smell like an Italian restaurant, nothing happened. You really should’ve known better than to trust some whackjob on the internet you thought, deciding to go to bed to avoid the gnawing pit in your stomach. Burying yourself in your sheets with a sigh, you tried not to make yourself sick with self pity.

The way your room was set up, there was this window you could almost see out of from your place on the bed, but not quite. For some odd reason, that’s where your eyes were drawn as you sleeplessly stared up at the ceiling with that whole seance thing from a week ago completely gone from your mind. The days were really starting to blend together- wake up, start work, finish work, microwave dinner, sleep. But you tried to keep positive: life isn’t that bad alone, you thought- there’s a lot worse things you could be. But as you started going through the list and you got right in between ‘dead’ and ‘in high school again’, you were suddenly shaken from your thoughts by this stomach churning noise from the darkness- this slow, drawn out scratching at your window. Even though all signs would point to it being some raccoon or mouse, the eerie chill it sent down your spine made your mind immediately go into survival mode. Jolting to your feet, you fell out of bed and scrambled to double check your windows were locked and that there wasn't some home intruder trying to break in and burgle your PlayStation or something. But sure enough, the windows were firmly locked and whatever it was was long gone. Fuck. You were going off the deep end.

After that night , you started getting a little paranoid. Maybe it was the lack of sleep getting to you, but these odd things started happening out of nowhere. The next morning, after that whole scratching incident, when you were brushing your teeth in the bathroom of your shithole apartment, you dipped your head down in the sink and you could’ve sworn you saw something- someone, standing behind you. But by the time you whipped your head up, the only figure looking back at you in the cracked mirror was yourself. Even in public, there always seemed to be something sitting barely out of your line of sight, watching you.

Or these odd physical sensations that came over you at seemingly random times. For example, at night, when you were laying in bed, cozying up with one of those aforementioned filthy novels- because that's what you do when you don’t have a boyfriend. In the silence, the only sound in the room was the periodic flipping of pages until the AC kicked on, which you used to quickly write off the sudden ‘hairs standing up on the back of your neck’ sensation. What you couldn’t explain away as easily was this heavy feeling you felt pushingpushing your bodyyour body down, as if someone had their hand on your shoulder, looking over and studying your every move. But the second you slammed the cover shut and whipped your head around, it was gone. This wasn't a one time thing either- this was routine, always when you were relaxing or busy with something benign. Take, for example, doing dishes. Standing there, elbow deep in murky dishwater, you would start to feel this…warmth surround you- always from behind, and sort of creeping around the rest of your body. And you could feel right behind your ear, these vibrations against your skin, as if there was something there lurking, growling like a starved animal.

Speaking of animals, it should be mentioned here that you never had great luck with living things, and this fact was becoming really apparent as of recently. I mean, you had no problems keeping your plants alive before this, but out of nowhere they all started simultaneously wilting, then browning…then rotting. You tried everything they said to do online, but no amount of sunlight or ph balanced water seemed to reviveto reviSoSo, without too much modumping, you decided to go outside to dump their flakey corpses in your building’s dumpster and oh. It was difficult to see with your arms full of plant pots, but you were almost sure that the thing lying on your doorstep was a dead rabbit. Now you don’t usually get nauseous around blood, but that’s human blood- dead animals are another thing. And as you stared down at the mess of red gristle and white fur in front of you, you could’ve sworn you heard someone whisper in your ear.

Bam really thought he’d get you with that one. It’s a similar concept to how the best beef comes from those cows that get massages and drink beer all day- human souls tasted best with fear, He was quietly watching you from the darkness, brushing against you with feather light touches, whispering gently in your ear, but it was seemingly impossible to figure out how to could get to your head. He was trying every trick in the book, and this woman was still oblivious! Maybe if she had a little more sense in her, she’d recognize that something was a little off after that third consecutive wet dream he gave her, but noooo! She was surprisingly accepting of all of this. In fact, if Bam knew any better, he could’ve sworn you were enjoying this. To say he was frustrated would be an understatement. This lonely pervert of a woman was either very resilient or just plain desperate, and was airing towards the latter.

It was those dreams he gave you that had the biggest effect on you. See, most humans break down- tenderize, if you will, pretty quickly at this sort of thing, but you were a tough nut to crack. But Bam kept his cool- he knew how to get creative in times like these, so he decided that not only would he be weaving these lusty thoughts into your head while you were none this wiser, at the same time, he’d be standing right by your bedside, tracing his fingers over your sleeping form. Nothing too serious, just gently slipping the linens off of your shoulder with a drag of a single clawed finger here, slowly caressing your cheek there. The touch of any demon is incredibly powerful, especially that of an Incubus. But even when you woke up with little red claw marks etched into the skin of your hips, you flat out didn’t care. In fact, you seemed to be going to bed sooner and sooner, in hopes you’d seen that mysterious figure that had you so transfixed.

So, he had to take things into his own hands.

At your window, which you had since stopped locking, Bam peered in with keen eyes, watching you as you laid there, peacefully bathed in the glow of the night. The only motion in the room was the soft rise and fall of your chest with your breath. Like a wild animal stalking its prey, he took this as his cue, silently pushing open the windows with little effort and inviting himself in. But you weren’t asleep. From under half lidded eyes, you finally got the chance to take in the visage of this bewitching stranger that had been haunting your every waking moment. Standing bare at the foot of your bed, stepping out from the cover of shadow and into the light, Bam revealed himself.

Beautiful, dark filigree stood out against his pale skin, one design spanning his Adonis’ belt and the other winding up his side. Razor sharp, catlike claws glinted in the light and, framed that way, he looked so powerful. With that toned, muscular body, you could have mistaken him for a man if it weren’t for the mouth full of fangs he was sporting, almost salivating over your body. The mattress dipped a little under his weight and the set of strong wings that sat on his back settled down against him as Bam practically slithered closer, pausing on top of you to rake a hand through the dark curls that hung in his face, revealing a pair of piercing, clouded over eyes- the eyes of a predator. But even though every feature of his was purely demonic, once you got a look at his face, you realized that he was strikingly beautiful.

It was either the slight flutter of your eyelids or the way Bam could feel your heartbeat speed up against his chest that tipped him off that you were awake. Oh, this was getting better and better. He could practically smell the fear seeping from this woman’s pores as he buried his face in your neck, anticipation hanging dense in the air between your bodies. And Bam sat there for a second, jaws wide but not quite clamping down on your throat, giving you just enough room to panic and wriggle or squirm before he finally got to that delicious prize he was so eagerly waiting for- because he liked to play with his food. Quivering with desire, you couldn’t be happier, because those same dreams you had night after night were happening for real: in your room, to you.

#jackass #bam margera #jackass fanfiction #jackass fanfic #fluff #jackass x reader #bam margera x reader #y/n is such a girlfail in this #she is so special to me #<3

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lameravigliadoro · 1 year ago

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French conversation starters…

if you like your coffee with lots of cream and sugar in it

est-ce que vous pouvez rajouter du lait s’il vous plaît ?

c’est possible de mettre plus de sucre ?

vous faites autre chose que des expressos ?

un café crème, merci

→ bonus point : your friend wants to make you coffee!

moi j’aime bien quand y a beaucoup de lait et de sucre

rajoute un peu de lait…

tu peux me passer du sucre s’il te plait

if you’re afraid of making mistakes in french

je parle pas super bien français (i don't speak French that well)

corrige-moi si je me trompe, mais… (correct me if i’m wrong, but)

je vais sûrement dire une connerie, mais… (i’ll probably say something dumb, but)

j’ai commencé le français y a pas longtemps (i started learning French not long ago)

… putain mais c’est dur aussi comme langue! (it is a hard language, for fuck’s sake!)

(note de la rédaction : never apologise for making mistakes, but if you really made a huge mistake, like if you misgendered bread, you can just say “désolé.e”)

if you want to impress your friends and order in french at the restaurant

alors du coup, euh, (-> gap fillers are important too) moi j’vais prendre (insert name of food on menu), avec juste de l’eau en carafe (tap water)

c’est quoi le plat du jour? (what’s the meal of the day?)

mon ami.e va prendre des tagliatelle (my friend is taking the tagliatelle, pronounce /ta-KLI-a-t-è-l/, sorry Italians)

le pain, il est gratuit? (is the bread free?)

le poisson, il est d’aujourd’hui? (is it the catch of the day?)

et vous le faites en végan? (do you have a vegan version?)

on peut r’avoir de l’eau ? (more water please)

le café gourmand, y a quoi avec? (what sort of mignardises/pastries/sweetmeats do you put with the expresso?)

ah bon… on va prendre le moelleux alors je pense… ah vous faites juste un fondant, bah va pour fondant alors… (so, uhm, I think we’re gonna take the spongy chocolate cake, ah you only do a chocolate fondant, well, we’ll go with the chocolate fondant then…)

on peut avoir l'addition ? (could we have the bill?)

(note de la rédaction : always say s’il vous plaît, it doesn’t hurt a fly to say it, so say it! even if the waitress/waiter doesn't seem very nice, they have to deal with French people on a daily basis, show some kindness…)

if you go to thrift shops

c’est quoi la taille ? (what’s the size?)

elles sont à combien les lunettes/bagues ? (how much for the glasses/rings)

ils sont à combien les bérets/bonnets/bijoux/foulards/pin’s ? (how much for the berets/beanies/jewelry/scarf/pin’s)

vous la/le faites à combien ? (how much for this?)

vous auriez des salopettes ? et des pattes d’eph ? et des dos nu ? (do you have dungarees? flared trousers? halterneck?)

regarde ce que j’ai chopé en fripe l’autre jour! (look what i got at the thrift shop the other day!)

if you like to talk about politics

t’as vu les infos ? (did you check the news?)

putain t’as vu ce qu’il a dit (insert name of Minister, President, MP, political figure) ? (did you see what they said?)

ce projet de loi c’est n’importe quoi de toute façon (this bill is nonsense anyway)

c’est qui les candidats aux :

Européennes (for the European Parliament)

Municipales (Local)

Régionales (Local too)

Sénatoriales (Parliament, but with the old white men)

Législatives (Parliament, but with the younger white men)

Présidentielles (also white men)

c’est quand la prochaine manif ? (when’s the next protest?)

c’est des polémiques à la con (these are bloody stupid controversies)

moi, je suis d’accord/pas d’accord avec :

les verts (green MPs, called EELV)

les insoumis (“the unsubmitted” from “La France Insoumise”, they’re a left/far-left leaning group, and the biggest left-wing group at the Parliament atm, called LFI)

les macronistes (Macron’s group, right-wing liberals)

les républicains (traditionally, they're the right-wing group, called LR)

les communistes (pretty transparent, they're call PCF)

les socialistes (same here, called PS)

le RN ("Rassemblement National", the far-right group, heirs of the French version of the Nazis and Vichy France)

les macronistes et républicains sont d’accord sur (insert typical right-wing policies)

les députés RN sont des fachos, t’es pas d’accord ? (the National Rally MPs are fascists, don’t you agree?)

j’ai écouté (insert name) à la télé/radio/sur twitch/au meeting, c’était pas bête quand elle/il a dit que…

if you want to chat in French with your cat

t'as déjà mangé tes croquettes toi ? (did you eat your kibble already?)

t'es trop mignon comme potichat (internet slang for "petit chat") toi ! (you're too cute a kitty)

il est où ce sale chat ?! (where's the bloody cat?!)

descends de là Félix/Biglouche/Garfield/Caramel/Noireau/Tigrou/Gribouille/Minette/Blanchette/Mistigri/Minou/add other typical French names for cats ! (get down from here!)

miaou (meow)

à la prochaine!

#french #langblr #language learning #french vocab #slang #colloquialism #french politics #french restaurants #coffee #cat #thrift shop #french fashion

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eviltiddyproductions · 2 years ago

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Vincenzo : Episode 17

please be fucking real with me rn. y'all are professional lawyers aware of the rules and go around murdering people on a whim, you just killed a mafia personnel's mother. a person who has been killing people too??? 😭 and you just killed his mother he hadn't met for 30 years ??? what was going to happen to you exactly ??? did y'all think this was a chess move 💀

get out of my face

please kill her, she's too vital for him

how does she have the audacity to squirm be serious omg. you were just celebrating killing his mom? 😭💀

no no no please you gotta take one of them out tonight I'm so tired of these excuses

well they do deserve a painful death but the (little brother deserves a little slack but birds of a flock 😟)

goodbye little brother 😔

lmaooo goodbye to his ear as well

my man looks so good walking out but I'm so so so tired of letting the bad guys live for longer. should've shot everyone in the leg at least idk 😭 (the villain from alchemy of souls making it to season 2 without a scratch still keeps me up at night 💀)

both of you deserve a big hug. my babies 😭

say goodbye to your mom

oh I'm about to break

I know you're the good guys and you have rules but y'all play a chess move and these evil bitches KILL someone instead like how is this fair 😭

he won't be grieving alone <3

probably the first time my martial artist is beanie less

i love that they're so honest and real about their feelings 😭

hug him

a mother's love is just built different 😭

oh he still has his ear

the audacity. LOSERRRR

slapped his brother too!? junior get him for once in your life

i hate these losers so much

back on this dumbass chess game that i am really tired of 🤩 mom come pick me up i am tired of this 😩

family's here <333

i mean my girl's sort of a part of this giving a voice thing too but yes, Vincenzo has led the slayage

LMAOOOO my pseudo italian gang is here !!!! They all look SOO good. park saeroyi is giving park seo joon fr here 😭

the crystal ball men still working for them 💀

what happened to that prosecutor anyway

one thing about Babel, they cannot hire good security for their life lol

like how did my building people even make it there 💀 want to rule the country, can't hire good security to save their life. I don't think they've had a single momen where there security has worked

you just got told your death will be excruciatingly slow and all 4 of you are in the room, do you actually believe the bomb threat?

they're going to kill these two after the party aren't they 💀 it's been so long that I've forgotten when and where they caught them

anyone can make anything explode if pre planned but if it scares are 4 evil horsemen I'm down

damn he's dead dead isn't he

even i wasn't ready for it

lmaooo even the Wusang guy is tearing the contracts. him and junior CEO really are dying because they're a part of the group 💀 they've had like negligible contribution in the evil arena i do feel for them. imagine dying because you have 2 psychopath losers with you

at least the evil CEO has the guts to face a gun to his head, our lawyer lady has murdered people left right centre and still is the first one on the ground everytime a threat arrives BE SERIOUS 😭

are they playing ice hockey for real or is this a dream? I'll enjoy my junior brother crumbs however i can

he really said is that chayoung to distract him LMAOOOO. Vincenzo if you have a crush just say so

I want to ice skate so bad

IT'S REALLLLL

I finally won for once in my life

not this romantic ass music playing as my little brother falls into Vincenzo's arms i thought he was finally getting a brother figure, i guess he's getting a boyfriend

that was so mean and funny lmaooo

got my man giggling and ice skating here. I'm kinda happy it can be a good place for him 😭😩 i will never recover from the beating he took here

she's so insane actually, practically murdered this guy already. watch her duck and hide again when someone threatens her

SLAYYYY they look so good

I just realised I was on the verge of tears in the beginning of this episode. Feels good to see them doing their thing :')

him and his obsession of wearing hoodies under suit jackets...

little brother i beg you rn to not let this man get into your head istg

Elizabeth Holmes like the fraudster ?! 💀

by the end of this show every villain will be made aware of Vincenzo having access to the gold and the files lmao

the director is in it y'all 😭

he's team us???!! (the writers were throwing anything and everything on the board lmao but for once I'm happy that someone's on our side) found the director shifting to the dark side confusing but believable. the prosecutor switching up was so 💀???

slay director slayyy

welcome back Mr. Cho (why did my brain assume Gilbert was going to come out, why am I forgetting people 😭)

omg random bad guy GAGGED evil CEO lmaoooo 'you've got a big mouth for someone who murdered his father' evil CEO :

even if this happiness is temporary, I love it. gagged those two losers !!! what is more funnier is last episode the lawyer lady and ceo were flexing their muscles and look how the tables turn 😍

hella worried for the little brother though he either keeps slipping from my good graces or i worry that his brother is about to kill him

they are so fucking unserious

Vincenzo about to be shot by the brother but for once I am putting faith in him (do not embarrass me please, I do that enough to myself)

bae why did you get a gun if you were going to be scared of the other person pulling one out. he’s from the mafia 💀

one thing Sherlock taught me was that if you aren’t shot in the head you can make it out alive and this has ruined my TV watching experience because I keep waiting for people to come out alive

#vincenzo #episode 17 #What a roller coaster of emotion #Little brother PLEASE #written update

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omlwhatamidoinghere · 2 years ago

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It's a Saturday night and I'm a Senior in college, obv I'm intoxicated rn and being in such a state makes me think about a lot of things:

I would let Alex Turner do things to me I wouldn't even let my own boyfriend do (this is not a sign that I consent to people writing fics about real people)

Pedro Pascal is becoming more and more famous and it's insane to think how long I've been a fan of his since Game of Thrones and became part of the internet side of things not too long ago is crazy to think about, like, I'm so excited that he has come so far and that more people are joining the fandom (even though some people act like they've been a part of it from the Eddie era, my sweet bby, and also act like they own Pedro and the fandom, taking the whole "Daddy" thing too far. Rookie mistake)

We are all beings on a little marble in the Creator's marble jar

Life is really fucking short, live each moment you get (yesterday- Saturday- has been a week since a friend's funeral which made me realize even more how we never know how much time we each have so live life to the fucking fullest)

Going off of the previous point, keep in touch with people you care about. I haven't seen or spoken to said friend in about 15 years and now his older brother is a parole officer and his younger brother is fresh into college. Talk to those people you think about, whether it be a tect sayinf you love them or simpley "Hey, I was just thinking about you today. Hope all is well!"

Matty Healy and Benedict Bridgerton are the same person written in a different font (both are so nice to look at)

I'm drunk

I haven't drank like this since I went to Florida in November (there's never a sober day in Florida with my family. I'm Italian and Polish so we eat a lot and drink even more)

Idk, I think about a lot of shit

Alex Turner and Matty Healy can both fuck me

I have a lot of horny thoughts because I haven't had sex in a long time because ny boyfrie d and I broke up for a short period of time a few months ago (we got back together after a bit cause we needed to work on stuff, specifically something he did) and I lost confidence in myself because of what he did and some of these men I find attractive make me feel better about myself because of the positive outlooks they have on women

If a celebrity you like says negative things about your gender/sexual identity, they can go fuck themselves

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk. My Max Lord fic (@max--phillips) will be coming out soon along with the first chapter of my Frankie Morales fic😘

#thank you for coming to my ted talk #em rambles #em speaks #em's drunk confessions

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macaroni-rascal · 1 year ago

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Now for the pairs. Valentina and Max are really testing me because they have some gorgeous lifts and movement ability, but my god, some of those other elements really had me clenching. I don't understand why he was in a plain black tee here except maybe he's mourning their unfulfilled potential.

This British team has some of the scariest throws I've seen in my life, and they aren't improving. And for that very reason, like the Crafoords, them skating to Survivor of all things when they're clearly dying out there is a painful viewing experience. They need to seriously send them abroad to more experienced coaches, I worry about this girl.

Italians - same thing. Her costume is hella confusing, I don't get the twin buns, and her top looked like it was on the edge of a wardrobe malfunction the entire time. Him skating in a bulletproof vest was probably a good call given where this event is being held, but also a stark reminder of the state of the world rn, and I need my skating to be escapism. 0 stars.

US teams - cute dresses for the girls but kinda off-the-rack looking? The sparkly snowflake on Chelsea's shoulder needs to be higher up. Why were the boys skating in pajamas, though? I feel like nobody hates pair boys more than skating costume designers.

Okay, my stomach was all knots for the final two teams because within me are two wolves - one that wants the world for Annika and Robert and the other that wants the world for Lia and Trennt. I actually really liked Lia's dress, the detailing really elevated it, and she looked ready for primetime. The thing about Trennt's top - I understand what they were going for but there's no point putting him in the upper part of a tunic if he's not in a skirt as well. His shirt is essentially based on an undergarment and it looks matronly on such a built guy. They had a perfect opportunity to put him in an armor-esque gold tanktop and they didn't take it, it would've given them the extra 2 points in PCS that they needed to come out on top here, but I'm not mad about the result, God is helping them to get to the GPF this year. Also, how tf did they learn salchows all of a sudden this year? Is this Michael's doing? If it is, it's the least he could do after we supported his klutzy tush all those years.

Annika is a ray of sunshine, which is why I don't understand why the lower half of her body suit is black. It could be really gorg if the red continued all the way down. Also the mesh on her stomach ends a little too low for comfort. However, it's not as egregious as Rob's halter top with the Scott Moir PYC rhinestones along the seams when they should've been sprinkled across the shoulders, but I digress. Happy for the teams on this podium because they earned this and none of them have any political power whatsoever. That said, it's looking like Lestat is gonna coast to the world title this year and honestly? Good for her.

A PAIRS ONE? Fasionista nonny, you spoil us.

"Him skating in a bulletproof vest was probably a good call given where this event is being held."

You can't be out here saying things like this when they are the funniest things in the entire world while also making me want to sob for days. Damn. The Italians costume truly made no sense, that gap between her pants and her skate was all I watch the entire program.

I agree about the Germans and the Canadians, I want good things for them both, Trennt needs to be in a gold tank top, and Annika's body suit needs to be reworked -- that harsh red to black doesn't work, it cuts her line.

A wonderful read! Are you going to watch Women and Men as well?

#konner talks skating #fashionista nonny

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babylooneytoonz · 4 years ago

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Power Struggle

Tommy Shelby x Fem! Reader

Requested by : @peakyfooky

So unfortunately I clicked on the delete button instead of the edit button and my work just went down the drain. I feel so pissed rn. I'm so sorry, @peakyfooky. Here's the request. Again.

Summary - Being an assassin was all fun and a right handed game until Tommy Shelby fucked up in an important mission and almost got you killed. The only good thing to come out of it was a hinted confession and a heated moment of passion.

Warnings: Cursing, Explicit language, SMUT SMUT SMUT, Sex . Reader's a badass in this one.

The rumours were many. Some said that she was a mythical creature, a story cooked up by mothers to get their children to sleep at nights, while some felt that she was a woman long dead. They said that she walked through the streets of London at nights, shielded by the darkness, hidden from the human eye. They even said that she had a scarred face, and a story to tell, probably why she didn't show herself during daytime. She was looking for the man that had done this to her, scarred her face and once she found him, she would be gone.

The rumours appalled you but at the same time, they made you feel powerful. You were nothing they had described you as. You were beautiful, your face that of an angel, if one would look at it, they wouldn't suspect a thing.

You were not some creature from the storybooks, neither were you someone alien to this country. You considered yourself a businesswoman, and your business was killing people. Killing your targets. Being an assassin, a female assassin, and being a pretty good one, you were the topic of talks among people and a pretty frequent household name for the gangs, having been frequenting them, and doing their petty calling for years now. And they made sure your identity was kept hidden and you were paid handsomely.

And this is how you knew Thomas Shelby, the leader of the Peaky Blinders. You wouldn't lie to yourself, his summons were the ones that intrigued you the most. They were uncanny, came for you on those you had least expected them.

After a long night at the pub next door, you stumbled into your first floor shabby apartment, a good disguise for a woman like you who earned a lot for every target eliminated. Your keys rattled into the keyhole and the door flung open, the familiar scent of your perfume, mixed with whiskey and cigarette smoke filling up your nostrils as you stepped inside and flung your heels off.

That's when you saw it. A card with a gold plated border stood on your bedside table, waiting for you to read it. You often wondered how Tommy managed to do it, sneak into your apartment to get you these notes but you didn't ask. It was Thomas Fuckin' Shelby and he had ways that you had probably never imagined of. To anyone who would see these notes, they would mistake these from a despaired lover, wanting to meet you again.

You flicked it roughly into your palm, turning it around as you read through it.

Meet me by the distillery when the moon's directly above us.

- T.S

He talked in riddles, riddles that no normal person would bother trying to solve but you knew his riddles by the back of your hand. Your eyes flew to the grandfather clock and you rushed out to your window, trying to look at the black starless sky, overcome with black humungous clouds with no moon in sight.You waited for a few minutes, waiting for the moon to show itself and when it finally showed you a peek, you knew Thomas would have seen it too. You grabbed your purse, flinging it across your shoulder and walked out of your apartment, making your way towards the distillery by the end of the street.

By the time you set foot there, you craned your neck upwards, trying to look at the moon that was now shining down on you and you knew it would be minutes before Thomas Shelby showed himself. Years for working for this man, he still hadn't learnt a thing about punctuality. Just then, a twig snapped behind you, causing you to slowly turn towards the approaching figure with a smug look on your face, "I am a busy woman, Shelby. I cannot always be here at your whims and fancies."

Under the pale moonlight, you saw his lips twitch, his hand mechanically moving up to his lips, his cigarette plucked between his lips as he inhaled the smoke that coiled around him.

"I hope you have something good for me. Something better than the man you gave me the last time. That took fucking two minutes. This better be worth my time."

Tommy took a step closer, the cigarette butt dropping from his hand as he stepped on it. Now you could see him clearly, his handsome features and his chiseled jaw struck out.

"Luca Changretta."

Two words were spoken and the smirk on your face went up your ears.

"I hope the pay's good."

"I'll triple it once you get me the news he's fuckin' gone." Tommy's ice like voice reached your ears and you just smacked your lips together, crossing your arms over your chest.

"So, when are we fuckin' doing this?"

Pretending to be a whore was easy. All you had to do was wear a skimpy dress, show a little cleavage, put on red lipstick and there you go, you were ready. Once you were ready, you looked at yourself in the mirror. The woman that looked back at you was someone you hardly recognised, but maybe that was what you always wanted.

Taking a deep breath, you finally pushed yourself out of the shabby bathroom at the back of the pub, your heels clicking against the pavement as you strutted towards the noisy entrance. You could hear loud chatters and occasional bangs, banging of fists, and even breaking of glasses and you rolled your eyes, cringing at the state of disorientation most of these men were in.

You placed your hand on the door, pushing it open as you stepped in, smacking your lips together. Your eyes scanned through the men, some of them now looking at you with hunger in their eyes. "Who the hell ordered a whore, ay?! Send her over once you are done mate!" You heard someone yell.

If you had to do this without testing your patience any further, you needed a drink. You went up straight to the bar, slamming your fist angrily against it to get the bartender's attention. His head snapped towards you, his mouth slightly falling, his eyes involuntarily moving and resting on your chest for a bit.

"Whiskey." You said, dryly. "And stop fuckin' staring at my chest."

The bartender cleared his throat, a red tint taking over his cheeks, flustered at being accused so pointedly. You saw him nod and rush into the backroom. You took this moment to look around, trying to spot the man you were looking for. This is where Thomas Shelby had told you he would be.

The bartender emerged with your drink in his hand, placing it on the counter in front of you. Your fingers curled around it, your hand flying to your lips, your ruby tainted lips pressing against the glass as the liquid gushed through your throat. Without wasting any more time, placing the glass back down, you leaned forward, watching the bartender in front of you struggle to keep his wandering eyes from taking a sneak peak at your cleavage. You placed your elbows on the counter to support you, looking at him.

"Where's Luca Changretta?"

The bartender looked at you, his eyebrow shooting up.

"Oh, you are Mr. Changretta's, ah, guest. The first door on the left." You nodded coyly, your fingers curling around the glass, your eyes fixed at the bartender as you watched him uncomfortably move away, scrubbing the counter on the other side. You brought up the glass and downed the entire contents of it, almost slamming the glass back down.

Following the bartender's instructions, you found your way to the first door on the left. It was a mahogany door, shut, but you could hear muffled shouting coming from the inside. Not bothering to knock, you flung the door open, barging your way in, your heels clicking against the floor.

Luca was sitting on a couch, his legs propped up against the coffee table, his drink in his hand as he was probably in the middle of an argument with one of his henchmen.

"Do you really not know how to knock?" Luca didn't move, only his lips did, as he eyed you his gaze, dwindling from distaste to full of lust.

"Not really, Mr. Changretta. You see, I just did my nails. Trust me, these things do take a lot of my time, that and making sure men don't leave disappointed." Your smirk reached your eye as your hand fumbled against your box of cigarettes, pulling a stick out of it and flinging it to your lips.

You heard Luca mutter a get the fuck out under his breath and the henchman rushed off, leaving you alone with the man. He slowly stood up, taking a sip of his drink, twirling his whiskey glass in his hand as he made his way up to you, looking at you from head to toe. "I didn't ask for a whore, now did I? Not that I remember. Who sent you?"

"No one asks for me, Mr. Changretta, I just flow with the wind. I just know who might have a need for me without actually him coming to me first. I see power, immense power and that's where I go. No one sends me." You took a step closer, lifting your palm and placing it on Luca's arm, using your pointed nail to move your index finger downwards, causing him to grit his teeth as your nail tore through his suit, almost scraping through his flesh. "Sorry about the suit. Where did you get these made?"

"Fenacci, Italian. He's my uncle."

"Well he must be a talented man." You cooed.

A sadistic snicker escaped his lips, causing you to give him a fake smile, although you knew how disgruntled you felt. The things money made people do.

"Now Mr. Changretta– "

"Call me Luca." He cut you off, his hand finally fixing on your hip, his fingers stroking your flesh over your satin dress.

"Luca, what would you like me to do to please you?" You pushed yourself away from him, watching his face flash a look of annoyance, his fingers twitching when it lost contact with you. Slowly, you took off your dress, only to reveal the soft, almost sheer negligee that you were wearing underneath it, exposing your legs and every bit of your skin. You saw him give you a quick do over his eyes flashing with his desire for you and this caused your lips to involuntarily curl into a smirk. You took a step towards him, placing your palm on his chest and using force to push him back against the couch, taking him by surprise.

"You are a man of substance, Mr. Changretta. I love it."

You placed yourself slowly over his lap, letting him wrap his arm around your waist, a low, throaty growl almost leaving his lips. As you moved on to straddle him, his fingers moved all over your arms, trying to feel the softness of your skin.

Taking that second of distraction in your stride, your hand flew up to the pin that held your hair, the pin of poison as you called it, and you pulled it out, your hair now falling loosely over your almost bare shoulders. Clutching the pin in your hand, you were ready to push the pin into the side of his neck, ready to end it once and for all but before you could do that, he grabbed you by your shoulder, pushing you away with such force, you fell back, crashing against the coffee table and fell to the floor.

"I least expected Mr. Shelby to be sending in assassins dressed as whores. Turns out Miss Gray was right. He did send you to kill me."

Your rage filled eyes met his, your finger still clutching the pin, while his fingers slid into his suit pocket and he pulled out his gun, ready to aim it at you. You gave him a smile, not dropping his gaze for a second. There was no way you would let him have you fail. You had never failed before. Fucking Polly Gray. You didn't understand how Luca Changretta already knew what Thomas Shelby's plan was.

You would have pondered more, had your eyes not noted how his finger moved to the trigger, ready to squeeze it. The moment passed by in a blur of a second, you adeptly caught his wrist at the right time, causing his aim to falter but the bullet shot of the barrel before the gun fell off his hand, slicing into your arm and lodging inside. You hissed in pain, your arm slowly turning red as droplets of your blood rolled down and fell to the floor, drop by drop. "Fucking hell," You cursed, your palm flying to the hole in your arm, feeling the warm gush of your blood, your wound throbbing under your touch while at the same time, you used your foot to kick the gun that had fallen out of Changretta's hand under the cabinet.

"Who the fuck are you, woman? You're no whore, that I'm sure of. I wonder how much that bastard paid you to do his dirty work. I'm ready to pay you triple– " He grabbed you by your hair and pulled you up to your feet which was a pretty bad move at his end. This was where you shot out your foot towards him suddenly, causing him to stumble and fall backwards. You let out a loud shriek, pulling yourself on top of him, straddling his waist, your palms coming to rest on his throat as you started squeezing it.

"I'm your death, motherfucker."

Luca Changretta started coughing, his eyes bobbing out as he tried to get your hands off his throat, but you just kept squeezing harder, pushing down at him with all the weight in your body. You were smiling now, watching life drain out of this man so easily, the throbbing in your wounded arm completely forgotten. You had gotten so used to seeing their faces when you killed them, it really didn't matter when they came back to haunt you at nights.

Suddenly, you felt a sharp prick at the side of your neck, the sudden impact of which caused you to loosen your grip on Changretta. Clutching your neck, you fell to your side, your eyes falling on your poisoned pin that was in Changretta's hand. Your chest heaving up and down, your heart raced so bad, you felt it was going to stop. Pain spread through your body, slowly, like a snake coiling at your insides as you started coughing out foam, your vision blurring.

"You can never be the death of me, bitch."

The last thing you saw before you shut your eyes was the door flinging open and the blue eyed gang leader rushed in, with a few men on his tail. You heard the sound of gunshots and screams but it all went black.

Your head hurt and so did every crevice in your body, as though someone had run a truck over you. It felt like you had been asleep for ages. The room smelled like a hospital room. After what felt like eternity, your eyes fluttered open. Even moving your eyes around took most of your energy. The room was warm and so were the covers that covered your body. Slowly, you started regaining shards of memory of what had happened that day. You had failed, for the first time ever. But worse than that, you wanted to bash Thomas Shelby's skull, for betraying you, for telling Polly Gray. He was responsible for your failure.

You winced as you sat up, your eyes flying to your bandaged arm. If the humiliation of failing that one thing you were good at wasn't enough, you had been shot and fucking poisoned.

You slid against the edge of the bed, your feet finding the floor as you hoisted yourself up, your legs almost wobbling at your first attempt. Five minutes later, you were walking down the hallway of what you guessed was the Arrowe House screaming like a mad woman, “Thomas! THOMAS SHELBY! FOR FUCK'S SAKE–"

Just then, the door to your right opened, and someone grabbed your wrist, pulling you inside and the door slammed shut behind you.

"My son's fuckin' asleep in the next room. Can you stop shouting at the top of your lungs? And who the fuck asked you to strut around the house when you are in no condition to get out of bed?"

You looked at the man in front of you and you wanted to gage his eyeballs out. Suppressing the urge to scream at him, you just pushed him away and weakly made your way up to his desk, grabbing his box of cigarettes.

"How the fuck am I even alive? Thanks to you, Changretta had stabbed me with my own poison needle. How the fuck did Polly even find out about the whole plan?" You struggled to light a match, a cigarette now pressed to your lips. Thomas snatched the matchbox from your hand, lighting a match for you and bringing it close to your face.

"Will you just sit down first." He motioned for you to take a seat. Wordlessly, you lowered yourself on it, your eyes trained on him, waiting for him to speak.

"I might have mistakenly said some things to her. I know, I'm sorry –"

You were not having it. You stood up, your fists clenched by your sides as you stormed towards him, almost pushing him angrily.

"You almost got me killed Tommy. You knew my fucking rules. No one except us should have known." He grabbed you by your arm in an effort to catch you if you fell but you just pushed his hands away.

"For fucks sake, will you stop with the dramatics, it was a drunken mistake. Polly came to me and she confessed to having told Changretta about you. That's when I gathered the boys and –"

You shook your head in disgust and cut him off, as your hand mechanically flew up to your lips and you took a drag of your cigarette, spitting out your words, "You wanted to be a fuckin' hero, did you not? You broke our deal, Tom. And then you save my life like this."

You didn't realise how the word Tom had so effortlessly slipped out of your mouth until you felt his lips suddenly press against yours, your eyes widening in shock at the suddenness of it, an electrifying feeling filling you up.

"What the fuck?" You whispered, licking your lips inadvertently when he pulled back.

"You don't fucking shut up, do you?"

"How dare you –" You didn't complete your sentence. Instead, you pushed Tommy to the wall, your hands tugging at his waistcoat to take it off as your lips hungrily devoured his plump ones. When you finally broke the kiss, you didn't look at Tommy like you did before. There was something different about him, something that made you want to explore. Your fingers tore through the buttons of his shirt, until he was standing bare chested in front of you, his lips slightly parted, his chest heaving up and down, his hand resting on your waist as he looked down at you, his eyes thick with desire.

"What was that for?"

"For almost getting me killed and then saving my life." You muttered, sarcastically and he just scoffed.

"I couldn't have left you to die." He deadpanned.

"Oh, and why's that?"

You bit your lip, slowly looking up at him when it hit you. "Don't answer that. Please don't. I can't take it right now."

"You're so –"

"Get your fuckin' pants off."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

It was as though your mind had exploded. All you saw was fire around you, the fire that could only be vanquished by him. Impatiently, you strode up to him, unbuttoning his pants while he just kept staring at you, his mouth almost open. You slid your palm through the waistband of his pants, stroking over his already hardened manhood, watching him as his eyes clenched shut and a low moan escaped those lips.

What you felt right now could only be expressed as sheer torment. You were emotionally drained and physically broken, and the only thing that could calm you down or make it even worse was what you were about to do. And you weren't going to waste any fucking time.

Thomas Shelby didn't realise what hit him. The next minute, he was sprawled over his desk, his pants lowered at his ankles, with you now straddling his waist, your eyes looking down at him. You wouldn't deny, he really looked beautiful under you. And you were sure, he was liking you on top of him.

It was a Power Struggle. But you always won. Atleast with Thomas Shelby.

"You are infuriating." You hissed, as you started rolling your hips against his erect cock, only the fabric of your underwear barring you from taking him in. The aching pain in your core was frustrating, getting even worse with each stroke of your core against the mountain pressed up against it.

"And you're a fucking tease," He moaned under you, licking his lips as he tried to adjust his hips to feel your warmth better.

"Stop. Don't fucking move until I say you do. We do this my way." You slapped his chest lightly, only to get a frustrated growl from him. A part of you wanted to tease Thomas Shelby to the point he was squirming, but the other part of you wanted to satiate the burning inside of you.

"I'm so fucking angry at you, Shelby, but good thing I know how to calm myself down in the most unholy ways." You lifted yourself up, Tommy's adept fingers worked to get your panties off you and once you had gotten yourself free from it, you took a deep breath, looking down at him before you went down on him. Using your hand to guide his cock, you slowly mounted yourself into him, feeling his thickness fill you up, a symphony of curses and grunts escaping both your lips as he filled you up.

Once you had adjusted to him, your slickness made it easier for you to build a firm pace, your hands using his chest to hold yourself on top of him, his hands holding you from your waist for support. Your body trembled and your mouth spilt vulgar curses as you slowly built up your pace, bouncing up and down his length, the study filling up with the sounds of your wetness of your core and flapping of your skin against his. His hands left your waist, moving up until he was squeezing your breasts, his fingers toying with your nipples, enhancing the pleasure you were feeling.

"Is that all you got?" Tommy moaned and this caused you to throw your head back and let out a dry laugh, only to end in a moan again as you felt pleasure built inside you, ready to burst any time now. By the looks of it, you could see that Tommy was close too, but he wouldn't give you the pleasure of knowing how good you were at this.

"Keep up with me." You swatted him again, deliberately slowing your pace, knowing how close you both were to your climaxes. He only slapped your arse in retaliation, budging you to keep up the pace.

"(Y/N)" Tommy grunted your name in pleasure, his fingernails digging into your hips.

"Say it again, love."

"Fuck." Tommy cursed, his breathing hitching as you continued bouncing on his swollen cock. Your hands found your way to his neck, your palms wrapping around as you started choking him, not hard enough for him to not breathe but hard enough for him to look up at you, his eyes burning with pleasure.

"Say it again, darling."

"(Y/N), fuck." He groaned. As if this was the push that was needed, you let out a whimper mixed with a moan, as you rode him to his own climax as well as your own, his nails digging into your flesh, panting into his sturdy chest.

You rolled off him and collapsed on the desk next to him, staring at the ceiling of his study, your chest heaving up and down, the smell of sex and cigarettes now filling up your nostrils.

"Please don't fuck up the next time, Shelby."

You felt his lips press against the skin on your bare shoulder in a kiss, followed by a hum as he pushed himself up from the desk, "That fuckin' poison pin. I had thought I lost you. You were lucky the doctor drained out the poison. If being an assassin is what you want to do, then we do this my way, not yours." He reached out, pulling up his pants and grabbed a spare tee shirt from one of the drawers of his study, pulling it over his head, looking at you once before he stormed out of his study.

(GIF is not mine, found it on Google. Let me know if it's yours and I will credit you.)

#tommy shelby x reader smut #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x y/n #peaky fucking blinders #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders smut

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weclassygirl · 4 years ago

Text

𝐀𝐜𝐭𝐚, 𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐚

Word count: +4.7k

Pairing: santino d’antonio x f!reader

Summary: “They’re already waiting.”

Warnings: none i guess, fighting

Author’s note: hi! i’m back with another part. the next part may take a bit longer for me to write, cause i’m dealing with something at my uni rn. as always give me your most brutal honest opinion so i can improve. english is not my first language so beware. take care everyone <3

dulce periculum series: 01 / 02 / 03 / ... / 05

Gif credits (x)

After the plane lands in Rome, both of you waste no time driving to Naples. It's already night time in Italy, almost midnight actually. You drive through the heart of Rome, the car passes by the Colosseum and your eyes linger on it as you drive past it. The whole monument is even bigger and more magnificent than you could ever imagine.

Santino's eyes linger too but not on the ancient structure but on you. Once again he's studying your face, your reaction to the place you're in. Your face is still covered in bruises but they are nearly gone, right now the orange street lights dance on your face as well as the cover of night.

You sigh softly, not being able to stop a gentle expression taking over your features. For a while you feel at ease, taking in the scenery around you. None of you utter a word throughout the almost 3 hour drive. You believe that it may be due to the long flight, everyone would be tired after sitting in one place for 8 hours. You have slept for almost the whole flight, somehow you still felt exhausted after the event at the Lounge… or maybe it has to do with the bruises still placed on your body.

The car stops before a gate that is followed by a brick driveway. You cannot see the mansion from your seat, the only thing visible is the well tamed grass and some other trees with bushes growing on it.

You see a few guards placed in various spots, all of them wear elegant suits. The car nears the mansion and your eyes go slightly wide. You expected the mansion to be luxurious and grand, but somehow it feels like that richness collides with simplicity.

Both of you step out of the car and walk towards the mansion. The two guards placed at the entrance nod their heads at Santino. You follow him as he steps into the building, nerves start to creep up your body as you move further into the mansion.

"You will have a bedroom here too." he says as you pass the big mirror on the wall. You see your reflection in it for a moment before you move along. "Someone will show it to you later."

As you keep walking further into the grand mansion you see a man coming up to Santino and whispering to him in Italian.

"They're already waiting." both men glance at you and Santino nods his head to the guard. You draw your eyebrows together, wondering what they could be talking about. Who's waiting?

The two of you move upstairs, walking along the wide hallway. There are paintings on the wall and some flowers placed on the tables. Both of you come to a stop and stand in front of rich dark door. You can hear a faint chatter behind the doors and look at Santino. He stares at the door as if he could see who's waiting behind them. Both of you enter the room.

There's ten people sitting at the table. Their discussion dies down as soon as they see you enter. A woman with gray hair sits at the head of it and by her sides sit two man, one dressed in a brown suit, the other in a black dress shirt. All of them look dangerous, the tension is filling up the air and you wonder if walking away now would be a wise idea.

You weren't expecting Camorra to have its own Council, but it does make sense in your mind. Someone has to be there if the head is dead or on the other side of the world.

"It's not proper to keep us waiting, boy." says a man with a nicely trimmed beard. His eyes sharp and dark.

Santino changes his whole attitude in a matter of seconds. "Well, seeing as I am the current head of this family I would have thought that it didn't matter if I arrived on time or not." he says with that arrogant grin growing on his face. It reminds you of the same arrogance he showed in front of Winston when he asked for John's membership to be revoked.

The gray haired woman doesn't respond to his statement. She gestures to the seats in front of you with her elegant hand.

"Sit down, both of you."

"We'll stand, let's get this over with quickly." Santino says in a hurried tone.

The woman is not pleased with that answer but decides to let it go, getting right into the reason you're all here.

"What's your name girl?" she addresses you.

Once again you think if it would be wise to give your real name, but still stick with the one you've been using since you got here.

"Umm… Jade." you answer hesitantly.

She can see through your lie as well as the others gathered around the long table.

"Jade." she tastes your name on her tongue, it makes your skin crawl. "Ms. Jade, we’re hearing that you have come from a world where all of this is a movie, correct?" she leans in her seat, her elbows rest on the dark table.

"Yes."

"And you stopped Mr. John Wick from killing Santino?" she questions further and you notice a hint of an Italian accent in her statement.

"That's right." you answer her slowly. Your whole body is tense, all eyes are turned in your direction, the Council and the few of the guards placed in every corner.

"Tell us then… what is it that you want?" she asks with an accusatory tone. "Money? Power? What would make you save him from the Baba Yaga?"

You can't believe what you're hearing. Saving Santino could be seen as some kind of deal in the eyes of others, that you've done that only to gain some money for yourself but that's not the case.

You lived in one of the worst conditions possible over the years, your rent was cheap and so was the apartment. It wasn't much but it was home… even if you could call it that. You learned how to live off of scraps, you don't need luxury to feel like someone worthy, respectable even.

"You're seriously think that I saved him because I want money?" you scoff in her direction, your eyes slightly widened and eyebrows raised.

"Who wouldn't? Money is the language of the modern world, people with money are the ones that rule it, any world at that." you stare at her, disbelief taking over your features. You look towards Santino and immediately switch your attention to the woman at the table.

"I don't need to tell you the reason. He lives, that's what matters, doesn't it?" you question, your voice is getting colder and colder with every passing minute. At this point you don't care that you're surrounded by one of the most powerful organization in all of Italy, maybe even the world. "Without him this whole organization would have been gone."

"You think that his death would have changed anything here? Listen to yourself, girl. Even if he were killed, we would have continued as before, stronger even." the woman argues, thinking she has the high ground. You look around, the others at the table watch your interaction like a tennis match. You begin to smile.

"No you wouldn't." you scoff.

"Excuse me?" the woman blinks.

"Jade…" Santino addresses you in a warning tone, but you just shake your head slightly and put your hand up as if to stop him from coming nearer.

"No." you step closer to the table "If he wasn't alive, then all of this that has been build by his father would have been for nothing. The Camorra line needs to continue and you cannot do it without the heir. His father and Gianna are dead, he is the only person now that deserves that power here. Without a leader… you would all fall." you say, the accusations rise with every breath you take. "And I am pretty sure that any of you here wanted to see him dead, just so you could have a chance at taking up that seat.” you finish your statement and see the woman put her hand up.

You hear a soft click before you feel a cold barrel of a gun pressed on the back of your head. You freeze and raise your hands up slightly. You hang your hand down briefly and scoff. The grey haired woman has a look in her eyes that many surely would fear.

“One more word that would come out of that insolent mouth of yours and you will end up with a bullet in your pretty little head.” she warns you through gritted teeth. Your shoulder tense up, you look towards Santino and his eyes filled with unexplained worry. You turn your gaze to the woman when you hear the Italian speak up next to you.

“Maybe we could talk about the real reason why I called you all here,” he says with a serious expression forming on his face “rather than pointing a gun at her head.”

The woman at the table narrows her eyes at him, visibly agitated with the situation.

“So what would be so important that you would call us here, at night with a stranger by your side?” she questions, her voice becoming more and more frustrated.

Santino just smirks and briefly looks your way. The smirk faintly reaches his eyes that gleam in the low light of the room.

“I’m sure that you would have her killed the moment she steps outside of this room, that’s why I want to make a proposition.” There’s a pregnant silence hanging in the room, but is soon dropped as the Italian man continues with his offer. “Let her work in the name of Camorra.”

You widen your eyes and look towards Santino who's already looking at you, his expression blank when you mouth to him what?. Your face shows confusion but is quickly replaced by the same calm that he now wears.

Joining Camorra could help you in getting familiar with this world. If they trained you, you would have some kind of advantage, but also Santino could use it in his favor. The movie never showed how they truly work but from what you've seen you would believe that they do train the best of the best.

You hear a quiet chuckle from one of the other members sitting at the table.

“You think that a scrawny girl like her is capable of joining Camorra?” he questions with an anger and amusement building up in his voice.

“Yes I do, in fact at the Continental Hotel she told us that she has knowledge of multiple languages and of fighting, we could tests it here if you’re all doubtful.” the new Camorra leader responds, his eyes are solely focused on the people gathered in the room.

Before Santino can continue you hear a man speak up in Italian. "That stupid girl wouldn’t even survive the first night here.” he comments with a smirk directed to the man next to him.

You feel anger and frustration build up inside you.

"That stupid girl can hear you old man.” you respond in perfect Italian. The man's face quickly turns sour and shocked. You feel like you've made a terrible mistake, answering in that tone to one of the Camorra's Council. You feel the barrel of the gun being pressed into the back of your head with more force. Your eyesight travels to the edge of the table and stays there for a moment before it moves to the old woman. She raises her hand and you fear the worst.

The guard behind you takes the gun away from your head but still remains in a close distance. Your shoulders seems to release some tension yet it doesn't make you even remotely relaxed.

Another member decides to take up on a voice but this time you hear him speaking in Chinese. “She is not of this world, she has no knowledge of it, it would be better to just get rid of her.” you decide to respond in the same language. “If you’re so worried about my knowledge than I can always learn everything there is to it here, it wouldn’t be a problem.” you look to Santino, he's watching the conversation like a game.

There's a faint scraping of a chair on the marble floors and the old woman comes up closer to you and Santino.

“You’ve got some fire in you girl, I’ll give you that.” she says. You don't know if you see amusement or even some sense of pride on her face. She looks towards the table and the rest of the Council gathered around it. “Very well, let’s see if you are capable of surviving here.”

The guard behind you hides his gun and all of you quickly leave for the shooting range placed beneath the mansion. You lock your eyes with Santino before departing to it.

You stand in front of the table, guns splayed across it as well as a set of bullets. You pick the gun up and weight it in your hand. Too heavy. You place it down and grab another one that is not too heavy but also not too light. The Council notices your choice of weapon.

You look towards the target in front of you, at least 15 meters far. “Any specific point you want me to shoot?” you ask no one in particular but the woman standing behind you responds "Head, heart, mouth and a lower region.” you nod.

The gun in your hands suddenly feels heavy. You look towards the target and aim your gun. A faint breath is released from your lungs as if to calm yourself down and focus.

You are surrounded by the most dangerous organization in all of Italy but now they don't matter. You imagine that they're not here with you, that even Santino is not here. You shoot.

BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG.

The sound echoes in the open space. You still hold the gun up as the sheet of paper comes closer for all of you to see. The headshot is there but missed by a few centimeters. Mouth shot hit the jaw, heart was a bit off but very close. As for the lower region, you could hear some of the men gathered in the room wince softly as you shot the target. You put the gun down on the table with a soft thud.

You back up and the Council members come closer to inspect the target. They don't say anything but you see them nodding their heads as if they are impressed with your skill. You turn to Santino and he's wearing a surprised and proud expression on his face.

The thing is, you know how to shoot… vaguely. Your dad thought you how to shoot when you were in your early teens. It was a family trip to a fair, there was a shooting range and your parents saw that you have a good aim and you yourself liked it. They went with you to the shooting range whenever they could.

The Council turns to you, all eyes burning into yours. They don't say a word just look you up and down. Everyone quickly moves to the gym. It's a simple place, handles placed in their designated area, a ring in the middle and punching bags along with some other equipment scattered around. One of the members, a man with a scar going up the side of his face throws you some gym clothes. Santino follows you as you go to change but lingers behind the slightly ajar door.

"You don't have to do this." he says, concern lacing his voice.

"You were the one to offer this in the first place." you respond as you strip yourself off the clothing you previously wore.

You're turned away from him but he still catches a faint scars adoring your arms, legs and back. The ones on the back seem more visible then the others, still red in some places along with some nearly invisible bruises. Santino quickly turns away and speaks up.

"I know that, what I meant was that you're about to face one of the best, here at Camorra." his voice is calm with a hint of that Italian accent. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

There's a short pause hanging in the air. You want to do this, you do. This is your chance at belonging somewhere and if it's one of the most dangerous mobs in the world then… well, what do you have to lose.

You step out of the room and face Santino. "I'm sure. If I back down now they'll know that I'm not up for this job. I have to try at least." Santino regards you but nods. He knows that you’re stubborn and won’t go down that easily. It’s one of the few things that made him so intrigued in you.

Both of you walk towards the ring in the middle of the gym. Members of the Council have already gathered around it. A well build man is standing on the ring, ready for a fight. You look up at him and recognize the man as the same one that held a gun to your head. Your attention goes to the grey haired woman, her expression hard. You step under the lines of the ring and stand in the middle.

No one utters a word, the only sign of the beginning of a match is a raised hand of the woman. The guard heads towards you.

You advance at him, trying to kick him in the chest but he slaps your leg away. He swings at you with force that could easily knock you out. You move under his arm and elbow him in the ribs. He buckles down slightly, but quickly recovers and tries to punch you to the side of your head, you block him, but don’t hold for too long, given his strength. Instead you move under his arm again and twist it behind him. He stops for a moment and looks at you with unexplainable expression on his face.

He uses your lack of attention and kicks his leg under yours, you lose your balance and fall onto the floor. He backs away and smirks at you, challenging look in his eyes. You quickly get up and glance at the Council. They don’t show any sign of approval or even a sign of being impressed. Santino locks his eyes with you before you hear the guard heading straight at you. He lands a punch to your face and ribs. You stumble backwards and hit the rope lines of the ring.

You hear a clinking sound and see two daggers on the edge of the ring. Both of you quickly reach for them and the guard attacks. He cuts your arms and manages to get a cut in your thigh. You don't yell in pain, instead just run at the guard. He might be strong and much more build than you, but you're much faster. You go for his shoulder but he catches your arm and twists it in front of him so that you fly over his shoulder. Your back hits the floor with a thud, the knife flying out of your hand to the side. You grunt in pain and look towards the Council, still a blank expressions on their faces.

You slowly get up and hear the guard chuckle. “Don’t you have enough, girl?” he asks. The dagger still in his hand, ready to be used.

You take the dagger laying on the floor and run at him, he doesn't expect you to get down on your knees to cut his calves. He grunts in pain and turns around with anger behind his eyes. You manage to cut him in the arm and even stab his shoulder. You back away as he pulls the dagger out of his body and throws it to the ground. The man kicks you with a force that sends you to the edge of the ring. You feel the ropes press into your back again but this time the guard holds you by shoulders and punches your face until your lips bleed.

You don't give up, the man earns a nasty kick to his balls. He grunts in pain and you manage to punch him in the neck, cutting off his airflow and then go straight for the jaw. He's disoriented for a moment which gives you a perfect opportunity to wrap your legs around his head and hold him in a choke hold. He tries to throw you off of him but your grip only gets tighter, the man starts to become red. The Council and Santino watch the fight intently before the older woman's voice carries through the gym.

"Enough." Both of you stop your movement, though you feel that the man wouldn't hesitate attacking you if the woman didn't give the order. You pant and raise your hand up to your lips and feel the sting and a pulsing sensation going through your lips. You already feel another set of bruises blossoming all over your body. The woman steps in closer to the ring. "Get down."

You duck under the rope lines and face the older woman. She studies your face and dismisses the guard with a wave of his hand. He looks at you briefly with a warning hidden behind his eyes and leaves the training room.

"Surprisingly you have proven yourself, saviour." She moves her hand up and takes your jaw with a tight grip, tilting your head from side to side. You want to wince in pain but won't show her any weakness coming from you.

You clench your fists as she leans in closer, still holding your jaw and your freeze momentarily. Santino notices your discomfort at the woman's touch but doesn't move. He knows that if he does so, than he may be facing some kind of consequences.

The Head of Camorra is the most important organ in this whole family, but some of his decisions depend on the Council's vote.

The gray haired woman backs away but still holds a strong grip on your jaw. She looks down on you. "You'll spend a year here before we decide if you're worthy." she says in a menacing voice. "If you fail your first task in the name of Camorra, then know that you will never be going back to your world." she releases your jaw with a jerk. Both of you stare at each other. Not going back to your world surely means death in this one. You know that she would have been glad to see you die, preferably at her hands.

The Council departs from the training room, giving you last looks. Some of it of warning, amusement and even concern. You turn back and sit on the edge of the ring releasing a shallow breath. You hear shuffling of feet and feel Santino sitting next to you.

You look down at your hands, knuckles bruised and bloody. You feel the pain in your ribs as you take a breath and see a drop of blood fall onto your arm. You raise your hand to your busted lip and hiss. You see a blue handkerchief being offered to you and look at Santino, his expression not showing any emotions.

You take the soft material and dab it carefully on your cut lip. "See?" you hear the Italian speak up next to you. "I knew you would fit in."

You look to him with raised eyebrow and start to laugh. The sound echoes throughout the gym and Santino joins you, hanging his head down. You haven't laughed in what feels like years and maybe it's true. It's nice to feel that kind of emotion spreading through your body. Your moment of joy is cut as soon as you feel the pain in your ribs and face. Your hand raises up to your ribs and traces it gently.

Santino offers you to see a doctor but you refuse, already feeling tired and exhausted after the fight. The only thing you want now is to lie down and sleep. Both of you leave the gym in search for your designated bedroom.

Santino leads you through the white hallway with rich dark flooring. As you walk he tells you briefly where each rooms are placed, his office is on the same floor as hers at the end of it. When you arrive at your bedroom you stop in your tracks behind Santino. He notices your absence by his side and turns to you.

You look tired and feel like it. The last 24 hours were the most intense in your whole life… well, at least one of the most.

The Italian looks at you, his green eyes darker in the low light. There's a reassuring look in his eyes. You stare at him and feel the leftover tension from your shoulders disappear completely. He seems to notice that action cause he smirks lightly your way.

Both of you turn to the door and open them to reveal a big room. The flooring is just as dark as in the hallway, the pearly white interior adds elegance to the place. There's a queen bed settled beneath the wall and in front of it a small fireplace. You notice a door that surely lead to the bathroom.

You step into the room and look around. Santino watches you from the door with his hands in his pockets. This isn't the place you would have imagined to be, yet here you are.

"The training starts at 7am, you already know where the gym is." Santino's voice comes from the side. His suit has creased during the day but he still holds that attitude that screams power. You look towards him and a question burns at the tip of your tongue. Santino already knows what it is.

"If you need anything just tell me. It would be a shame to waste someone like you with this much potential." he says with a smirk.

"That woman would disagree, like many of them in fact." you say back. You're sure that that woman is already having you in her mind as some sort of threat.

You don't know if Santino will use you to his needs or not, right now it doesn't seem like it. He's been nothing but respectful towards you, but maybe he's just hiding his true colors. You need to become wary of this world, trust only few and always observe. Adapting to it will take time but you're ready to at least try and not waste your time here. Even if it kills you.

Santino looks at you one last time before closing the door, wishing you goodnight and good luck. You momentarily keep your eyes on the closed door before moving to the bathroom. You look for the first aid kit in the cabinets and luckily find one. You open it, take out some bandages and put them on the counter. The cut on your arm and thigh are not big, but it’s better to take care of them in case there’s some infection. You pour the hydrogen peroxide onto the cuts and hiss in pain. You put on a fresh bandage on it and repeat the process on the arm. You look at your reflection in the mirror and examine the busted lip. It has gone numb but even the slightest touch hurts.

You exit the bathroom and go over to the bed. You basically sink into it as the soft material embraces you. You lay in it for a few moment, thinking about what the next day may bring. You’re Camorra now… sort of, you still need to prove yourself here. You know the basics of fighting and surviving, you know how to get by. Right now you can just hope for the best.

You don't remember when you fall asleep, but you dream about the water and a faint deafening sound that carries through the wind. The sound of the bullets from the gun range still ring in your ears.

You spend a over two years there before everything changes.

#santino d'antonio x reader #santino d'antonio #john wick #Riccardo Scamarcio #keanu reeves #fic; dulce periculum #john wick 2 #john wick 3 #feedback much appreciated #please be patient with my writing #my vocab is limited at times #and i know there's a lot of exposition #but i can't think of any other way #i'm still learning #baby steps as always #be kind #don't be rude

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years ago

Text

Survey #440

from a day or two ago.

Do you drink a lot of soda? I definitely do. :/ I'd lose weight so much easier if I could drop the habit. Are tomatoes the best food in the world? I don't like tomatoes unless they're very fresh and on a mayo and bacon sandwich. Have you seen The Blindside? I actually haven't. Do you have a favorite local pizza place? Not really. There's a place I like that isn't huge, but I don't have like, a serious passion for or loyalty to it. Would you date someone 10+ years older than you? Meh, I think ten years is my cut-off. Are you due for a haircut? For sure. >_< Are you dealing with any health-related problems right now? Yeah. Even with my APAP mask, because I apparently move it too much in my sleep, I'm struggling with my sleep apnea nightmares/terrors. Do your parents like the music you listen to? Most of it. Do your parents approve of your beliefs? Not all of them, no. How many different digital cameras have you owned in your life? How about cell phones? Cell phones, idk. I've had two "pro" cameras. Do you typically do your make up the same each time? Or do you like to change it up often? It's pretty much always the same. Who is the last person you were in a room with just the two of you? What were you doing? Mom. We worked together on my room. What do you usually order at Subway? Turkey, bacon, American cheese, pickles, banana peppers, and chipotle on I want to say Italian bread. How long is your mother’s hair? It's hard to say, because it's all poofy now versus wavy like before it had to be shaved off. Don't repeat it to her ever, but she has, uh... "old lady hair" now, ha ha. What is your favourite car brand? I don’t care. Whose chore is it to clean the bathrooms in your house? My mom does it. Pick your three favourite fruits. Strawberries, kiwi, and uhhh... apples. Or pineapple. Have you ever played Cards Against Humanity? Yeah. We used to play that a lot at Colleen's house on nights we had some drinks. Who were the last friends you went to hang out with? Oh jeez, idk. I haven't hung out with a friend in a long time. How many chairs are in the room you’re currently in? Zero. I'm in my bedroom. Are you bored right now? I'm bored almost every waking hour of my days. Have you ever seen a pelican in real life? I'm actually not sure. What’s important about April? My younger sister's birthday is in April. Is there anyone who hates you? Jason probably does. Would you consider adoption? Not for me personally. What’s the largest animal you’ve ever had as a pet? Our late boxer mix. Do you own any kind of helmet? No. Do you ever put fruit on your cereal? Noooo. How do you usually celebrate your favorite holiday? My younger sister comes over here and we open our presents with Mom, who also cooks a nice breakfast. We then go to my older sister's house for the day to watch the kids open presents from their extended family. I say "extended" because the kids obviously aren't going to wait for us to get there to open the majority of their gifts from their parents, ha ha. What’s a few facts about the last person that talked to you? She's from New York, has five kids, has survived cancer (one almost advanced to a fatal level) twice, she loves owls, and recently graduated with her bachelor's in social work (it's never too late, people). What would happen if you had a baby with the last person you kissed? We're both cisgender females. Where is the biggest scar on your body? It's probably where I had a cyst removal, which is in a spot I can't see. Would you date someone who was addicted to drugs? Absolutely not. I am NOT getting involved in that. If you could go back and change something in the past 5 months, would you? I'd go to the gym sooner. Have you ever kissed anyone with a tattoo? Hmmm... I think Tyler actually may have had a The Legend of Zelda tattoo? I can't really remember. If not him, then no. Have you ever kissed someone you weren’t dating? No, but I've been kissed by someone I wasn't dating. Do you know anyone who drinks a lot? Yes. What were you afraid of the most when you were a kid? Being separated from/losing my mom. Do you like to make the first move? No. When was the last time you completely broke down? A few weeks ago when I was having a PTSD episode. Are you listening to any music? No; I'm watching Gab play Final Fantasy X. Is your hair long enough to put in a ponytail? No. Has someone ever told you they want to spend the rest of their life with you? Hm, it's funny, I don't see him anymore. Have you ever peed in the woods? No. Have you ever played Twister? Yeah, I liked playing it as a kid. Are you looking for a boyfriend//girlfriend? Not actively, no. I really don't need one right now. Out of all of your friends who have you gotten in the worst fight with? Of all friends I've EVER had, probably Colleen. Of the friends I still have, maybe Sara. What is the last microwaveable meal you had? I've been on a SERIOUS grilled chicken pesto kick lately. Mom buys these small Healthy Choice (or some brand like that) bowls that you put in the microwave and then pour the noodles and chicken into the sauce after and mix, and oh my GOOOOOOOOOOOD it is so good. What would you consider a talent of yours? Assuming the worst out of every imaginable situation. If Hogwarts was a real place and you were able to attend, what class do you think you’d excel at? According to those little quizzes I've taken, I lean mostly towards Hufflepuff, but with Gryffindor traits as well. Would you rather learn more about space or more about the ocean? Well, ideally, space, but I think learning much more about our ocean would be more beneficial to our planet and our prosperity on Earth. Do you have a mental illness? If yes, how have you learned to cope with it? If no, do you ever suspect you may have one? I have a lot. My bipolarity, OCD, and PTSD are *mostly* under control, but I most certainly still have trouble sometimes. My anxiety and AvPD are still rabid fucking hounds. My depression was well-managed not even that long ago, but life circumstances have it so it's been more aggressive than what was usual. Do you have a favorite character from The Avengers? I dunno, I like Loki ig. Thor is cool, too. It's been WAY too long since I've seen that movie. What type of cake would you like right now? Double chocolate cake sounds great rn. @_@ What was your dream job when you were a child? Are you going after that dream or not? Why? Paleontologist, and no, because I don't want to travel for work, and I could also never handle the heat during site excavations. Even though it may not work all the time, what usually helps make you feel better when you’re upset or down? Watching one of my comfort series on YouTube from channels I enjoy. Why do you personally take surveys? It's a method to just get all these thoughts out of my head and to vent when I need to without actually directly burdening someone with my problems. No one has to read 'em. It's purely for my benefit, and also to pass the time, which I have too much of. Are there any words that you can’t stand? Derogatory terms for certain groups of people. What are words that you love? Words like "serendipity," "bliss," joyous, bubbly words. I'm blanking on actual terms. If you had an endless supply of money for clothing only, what would you load your closet with? Ohhhh, lots of shit with studs and spikes. :') I've wanted a studded leather jacket since I was in middle school. Have never gotten one because of how pricey they are. :( I'd also get some KILLER boots and just obtain a more gothic wardrobe. I'd love corsets too if my body ever shrinks back to a point I'd be comfortable wearing well-made ones. What is your favorite type of cookie? Chocolate chip. What is your favorite type of candy? Strawberry Sour Punch Straws. What color would you like to paint your nails next? I don't paint my nails. Realistically, they probably won't be 'til my entirely hypothetical wedding, in which case they'll probably be black. What do you think is creepy that society accepts as normal? Urinals, alsdkfja;klwejr. Like I get men's bathrooms give the option of using a stall, but still... side-by-side urinals are so weird and a breach of privacy to me. What is the silliest secret about yourself that you sometimes feel the need to hide? That I enjoy forum RP. I tell NOBODY because I fear being judged and found as weird. Like seriously, in my "real" life, maybe two people know. What do you think is a good date other than dinner and a movie? I want a picnic date really bad kalj;dkl;jwe. Do you dread certain days of the week? If yes, what day/s and why? No. They're all very similar. Do you ever give money to homeless people? No, admittedly. Mom instead likes to sometimes offer them bottles of water or if she's really feeling generous, a cheap meal at like McDonald's or something. She doesn't like to hand out money because, well, we know what a vast majority of homeless people spend it on. Do you like to brag or are you modest? I get really uncomfortable bragging, so I try to be as modest as I can be. What your favourite thing to have on toast? I love giving it a light toast, then adding a thin layer of butter, cinnamon, and sugar. It's bomb. Do you know how to surf? Would you ever like to learn? No to either. If you eat oatmeal, do you have it plain or do you have certain toppings that you like to add to it? I love sprinkling some sugar in there. Would you prefer to spend time with your whole family all at once, or would you rather quality time with one family member at a time? Depends on what I feel up to, but I tend to enjoy family time as a group more. That way, I don't have TOO much pressure to be constantly social. I can just listen sometimes. What is the funniest or strangest thing you’ve ever heard somebody say in their sleep? I have no idea. I worry what people have heard ME say/scream in my sleep. Do you own a pair of slippers? Yeah, they're meerkat ones! :') Choose one: Butterfinger, Milky Way, Snickers: Absolutely a Milky Way. Who was the last person to comment you? My mom. I'm cool, I swear. How many arguments have you had with the last person you kissed? A lot over all these years, but I'd say that's normal when you've been friends since you were 8 and 10. Do you know anyone who has been arrested? Yes. What are you planning on doing after this? When I'm done taking this survey, I'll probably either go to bed or play a bit of WoW. Idk. Will you be up before 7 am tomorrow? I have my alarm set for 7, actually. Ever been the only one trying to fix a relationship? Mhmmmm. -_- What was the last bad thing that happened to your phone? The case that came with the phone got a big crack in it. Have you ever been with someone while they were throwing up? Absolutely not. I would start vomiting. I can't handle the sound or the act in general. Have you been to the beach this year? No; I haven't been in a long time, and I am noooot complaining. Have you ever skipped school just because you were tired? Yes. Are you tan? God no. Do you own any leather? No real leather, no. I never would. Have you ever bought a shot glass? No. Do you have a therapist? Yes. We actually just talked today. Well, technically yesterday. What’s the worst name your mom has ever called you? I don't know. She doesn't really call me bad names. Have you ever listened to Christian music? Not of my own volition, but I've heard it because of other people controlling the radio. Are you the ‘creative child’? Yes, I'm considered that one. Did you like your life when you were in middle school? God no. That's when everything started going downhill. Have you ever been 'popular’? No. Has someone ever tried to convert you? Yes. Are you a fan of muffins? I LOVE muffins. What’s your most recent obsession? It's kinda chilled out now, but when Resident Evil 8: Village released, I was CRAZY over it. I watched SO many different let's plays of it. I think it's safe to say it beats out RE4 as my favorite installment.

#survey #surveys #random questions

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my-fanfic-library · 5 years ago

Text

Something Different {BBC Dracula x Reader} [32]

Masterlist

A huge thank you to newheart97 for the beach scene ;D also sorry it’s short, I’m just having trouble writing rn and I didn’t want to break my promise to you guys

Warnings: A very jealous Drac, wet Drac, implied oral (f receiving)

~^*^~

Strolling onto the sand, you looked back at Dracula who was taking in the heat of the day. You had opted to buy a black cover-up to conceal your suit before sunbathing, since you weren’t entirely sure how Dracula was going to react. He looked so at peace. He had changed into some beige/green shorts and a black polo shirt. You haven’t ever seen him so casually dressed and you had to admit that you liked it.

Finding a spot a little out of the way, you placed your bag down onto the sand and pulled out your towel. You didn’t know where Dracula had gone, but you didn’t really care. Once your towel was down, you turned your head.

Dracula was staring out to sea, watching the waves lap over each other, the sun sparkle down onto the cyan waters.

You sighed in content. It was already so hot. There wasn’t a cloud in the aquamarine sky. Tugging at the bow on your cover-up, you let the material open and you slipped it off of your shoulders. Your bikini was a simple black and you hack picked something small enough that would give you a lot of skin to catch the sun. Once more you sighed as you settled down on your towel, listening to the waves and the occasional chatter of people a little way down the sand.

It was nice for a moment; the sun heated up your body and you began to truly relax for the first time in a long time. Well, until there was a sudden darkness, blocking out the sun. Your eyes snapped open to see Dracula towering over you, a look of displeasure written across his face. Oh.

“You know, the point of sunbathing is to bathe in the sun, which is what you are stopping me from doing.” You retorted.

“I don’t care what it entails, why are you wearing your undergarments?” He hissed.

“Because I’m sunbathing...?” You pushed yourself up with your elbows, “really, Drac, I thought you were a fast learner.”

“Don’t you think that you’re a little exposed for being in public?”

“Oh my god,” you mumbled, “Dracula, sweetheart,” you began, “this is how people dress at the beach. I’m just following current social protocol.”

“Well, I don’t want anyone seeing you so... so bare. Here. Put it back on.” He was fast to get on to his knees and push your cover-up back into your chest.

“Dracula!” You hissed, “I’m not putting it on!”

“Would you prefer my shirt? No other man can see you so bare. It’s mine. You are my treasure for my eyes only.”

“Ok, first, that’s very sweet, but second, I’m literally in my bikini. Dear god I can’t imagine how you’d react at a nudist beach.” You rolled your eyes.

“Should you ever attend such a beach, I will have no choice but to drink you again and leave another one of my marks on your skin. And mark my words, next time, I won’t be so chaste with the placement of it.” He warned darkly.

“If i want to go to a nudist beach, I will. Now, if you’ll move I want to sunbathe.”

Five minutes later, you were sat up with the deepest scowl on your face. Dracula, who was lying back on his own towel, appeared to be oblivious to your poisonous gaze. His chest was bare, sun practically bouncing off of the pale expanse. You were sat with his much oversized t-shirt pooling around you. He had somehow managed to wrestle it on you and warned you not to take it off. You were so hot!

This was so unfair!

The heat was really beginning to get to you now and you could feel the sheen of sweat building on your skin. Your eyes moved to the sea, which looked so, so inviting. It was as if the waves were beckoning you to come to them.

Would just a quick little dip really hurt? Besides, you were a big girl, you shouldn’t need to be told what to do by anyone. Except maybe your father.

You looked once more at Dracula. His eyes were shut. You looked at the sea. It would take maybe five seconds to sprint to the waves. If you were fast enough, you could whip off the shirt as you ran... Fuck it. You shuffled a little, so that when you stood your shadow wouldn’t cast over him. You rose, pretending to stretch. Your eyes wandered down to him and he seemed to have not bothered in checking up on you.

You ran.

As you did so, you tugged the material off of your body, the feeling of a cool breeze easing your hot body. You heard Dracula call your name, but it was too late. His shirt was discarded, you had made it to the sea and you were laughing victoriously. You turned to look at Dracula who had sat up and was glaring at you. You couldn’t help but stick your tongue out at him.

The water was lukewarm. Not cold enough to cause a shock to your system, but an easing cool that licked your skin and sent pleasurable chills down your spine. The contrast of the hot sun and the cool water was euphoric. You were pleased that you had decided to defy the vampire.

“Come back!” He called.

“No!” You laughed, wading backwards into the water. It slowly creeped up towards your thighs and you shivered when it hit your core.

Dracula didn’t respond again, he simply stood and you immediately knew you were in trouble. His walk was slow, his eyes were locked on you. You looked... well, you looked fucking hot. And he knew other men on the beach were looking directly at you. It drove him crazy. You stood there, watching him near you.

It was like the world had stopped as your eyes locked upon him. It was only him. Him and you. He was by you in an instant, hands grazing over your bare waist.

“I thought I told you to keep the shirt on?” He hummed, voice low and a little gravelly. Immediately, you felt a heat flood your body.

“I was hot.” You whispered, your hands moving up his arms.

“Everyone’s looking at you now. At what’s mine.”

“Let them look, Drac. I’m not with them.”

~^*^~

Walking along the small and winding streets, you marvelled at the beauty of the architecture. Dracula’s hand was in yours. He’d gone with a white shirt and some black trousers, and you had gone for a pale blue knee-length summer dress.

The sky was beginning to darken, a navy slowly spreading from the crown outwards. You had been in Italy for a week now. For the first time in forever, you had been able to just relax. You found yourself often sitting on the balcony of your beautiful Italian villa, just looking out to sea and forgetting all of your troubles for a moment.

You had just been out to eat with Dracula and you were finally making your way back for the evening. There was a nice cool breeze coming in, a nice bite to the end of a hot day.

Dracula was acting a little strange, keeping a little closer to you than usual. You didn’t know what he had planned, but you were a little nervous. It was a slow walk back to the villa and once you crossed the threshold, Dracula had you tight within his arms and seas pressing sweet kisses to your neck. You giggled.

“What’s going on?” You breathed.

“You’ve already eaten your dinner, it’s time for mine.” He pressed more kisses to your neck.

“How about you go onto the balcony and I’ll meet you in a minute?”

You nodded, pulling yourself free from his grasp and making your way upstairs. The sky was bursting with orange when you finally got up, the sun beginning to dip down past the horizon, igniting the bottom of the blue with a hot and fiery mix of colours. You sat down on the table, looking out at the waves which seemed to be frozen in place. You knew they weren’t bevause you could hear them down below.

A few moments passed and you heard Dracula curse followed by a loud bang. He cursed again. You chuckled.

Another minute passed and then you finally heard his footsteps.

“Right,” he began.

You turned and almost chocked when you saw him. He was soaked, raven strands falling into his face, his white shirt see-through and clinging to his body.

“What the hell happened?” You chuckled.

“I may have forgot to put the ice bucket back in the freezer before we left.”

“Ice bucket?”

“I did have some champagne for you, but as you can see, it’s not going to be cold.”

“Forget the champagne. Come here.”

You were drinking in the sight of him, ready to tear the wet cloth off of him the moment he was near enough.

“My goodness, [First], what’s gotten into you?” He tutted.

“Not you.” You playfully mumbled.

“Shall we change that?”

He was quick with his movements, leaning over the table and yanking your legs, spinning you around so that you were facing him. He looked down at your face, looking for any hint of protest in your features. When you displayed none, he leaned down, pressing a very soft and tender kiss to the skin right below your earlobe. You hummed at the contact. Your fingers dipped into the hair at the nape of his neck, bone dry compared to the strands at the front.

It had been too long since he had touched you like this. Fire was burning in your blood and you knew it wouldn't take much for you to completely succumb. The way his lips slowly caressed the skin of your neck, his fingers working at the hem of your dress which had ridden up your thighs, it was unbearable.

“Drac...” you whined quietly, just as his lips ghosted the scar on your neck.

“Yes, darling?”

“Please...”

“Please what?”

“Do something.”

He bit down. Not hard enough to draw blood but the sudden shock that pulsated in your body had you crying out. Your hands pulled him closer, legs flying up to lock around his waist, connecting your cores through thin layers of fabric. You could feel his smirk against your skin. Your hands pulled him closer as his teeth finally gave your skin some mercy, but only for a second. His lips were on yours in a moment. Heat, passion, pure ferocity in his kiss and then you were falling into a dream.

~^*^~

A blistering heat, a burning light. This was not like the other places you had been before. There was no pretence of comfort here. You could feel eyes lingering on you, but where from? It was strangely dark, like the moment of twilight. A little light to guide your eyes, but too many shadows, too many places for things to hide.

You tried to call out, but your voice did not leave your mouth. Something was very wrong.

For a moment, you thought you saw something in the shadows and moved forwards to pursue it. A sound resounded behind you and the shape that loomed over yous familiar... no...

~^*^~

You were gripping onto Dracula’s collar, breathing heavily. He must've mistook your utter fear for the racing a passionate heart, because his lips did not cease on your skin. You tried to push the thought of the dream to the back your mind, but you were certain that your mood was all but deflated.

Well, five minutes later, Dracula found himself devouring you, your sundress strewn aside, body glistening with sweat and glowing with the light of the setting sun. What a sight you were, chest rising and falling, hands threading his hair. Beads of water would occasionally drip from the ends, but he didn’t really mind. He was still fully clothed, though his shirt was open - you had asked him to stay like that, obviously liking the way the material stuck to him.

Your lustful sounds swirled the air, rebounding off of the cliffs and carrying out to sea.

~^taglist^~

@vampiregirl1797 @avalanet @bunnyreese12 @nerdonpluto @teamceleries @grifffins @hitbythunder @winterseoul @mymagicsuitcase @angeli-fucking-cat @benedictethegoddess @bloodhon3yx @nifflersravenclaw @writteninthestars288 @labelladrama @frankcastlesgrunts @angelicdestieldemon @quakerlasss @aliisa-jones @wolverinexmenn @clairedragonessbaker @cryiner @mitsukatsu @piratewhore @your-pixels-are-showing @tardisnesss @ladydovahkiin180 @catwomom @god-of-dramatic-death-scenes @th3rah @viper-queen @mephdcosplay @greghouse7 @faeprinces @kokoro-no-yami @trishaferdream @therealmoni @crazytxgradstudent @sansthelonelypunster @crowley-needs-a-hug @girlonfireice @wasntpriscilla @ivanna6026 @savebensolo-ordie

#claes bang #something different #dracula #bbc dracula #netflix dracula #dracula x reader #bbc dracula x reader #netflix dracula x reader #claes bang x reader

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keanuvibe · 5 years ago

Text

Bodyguard (John Wick x Reader) Pt. 4

A/N: Hi! sorry im awful at uploading lol. my personal life rn is on fire and i haven’t had all the time in the world to write, but managed to pull this chapter together so :) thats coolio.

Words: 4.7k

Warnings: swears, violence, a lil fluff

“So, tell me everything.” June smirked, leaning over the table towards you. You had managed to meet the girls on time, only a few minutes past twelve- thirty. The three of you got seated shortly after, and ordered your cocktails; beginning the rounds of catching up you had to do. The restaurant is diner themed, set in the 1950’s. One wall of the building was a bar, fit with barstools, an ice cream machine, as well as a soda machine. There was even a section where you could order homemade candy. Little booths scattered the wall across from the bar, and tables separated the two. The floor was checkered design donning many muddy footprints and the walls were covered in old-timey photos of local streets. You and the girls sat at a booth, June and Dottie sitting across from you.

“Okay, get this,” You began, leaning in towards your friends, “Santino, you know, mio cugino pazzo. He’s mad at my father and is trying to kill me for it.” ‘[My crazy cousin.]’ You finished and took another long sip of your cocktail. June and Dottie stared with their mouths agape. You calmly set down your drink and smiled shyly, eyes bouncing between the girls. You loved your friends, honestly. The three of you have been close since you were young teens. June and Dot also had connections to the Italian mafia, their fathers having run a section of both New York and New Jersey; although they aren't as intertwined as you. June is the oldest, one year older than yourself. She’s an old soul, that you know for sure. She wears dated clothes and uses dated household items; in fact, you can't recall June ever purchasing something new from the stores you and Dot go to. Hell, even her car is a 1978 AMC Pacer. Dottie is only a few months older than you, on the other hand. She is the spitting image of a pinup girl. She wears her hair in elegant waves and has bangs, she even wears button up dresses and has big hair bows for when shes feeling fancy. You can’t recall a time when she didn’t wear red lipstick nearly everyday.

“Should you even be outside?” Dottie whispered, leaning closer to your figure. Her New York accent was a little amplified by the drinks she’s had already. You shrugged as your answer, and June scoffed.

“You, (Y/N), are unbelievable.” The waiter to walked up to your table, halting your conversation. The three of you blinked at the other, little grins holding back giggles ready to erupt. The waiter asked for your orders, then as soon as the young man had left, you jumped right back into it.

“You guys should see my bodyguard.” You spoke, a smirk donning your face. Your mind wondered as to what he was up to right now. Maybe he's still sitting waiting for you to exit the bathroom, or, maybe he's already begun the witch hunt.

“Ah, yes. John? As you've mentioned. Show us! the way you've described him- He sounds gorgeous.” Dottie eagerly bounced in her seat, urging you to show them a picture. You pulled out your phone, stomach dropping at the several messages that donned the lock screen; John’s contact name on each one. Witch hunt is it.

12:47: Very funny. Where are you?

12:59: Where are you.

1:13: (Y/N). This isn’t a game.

1:21: I’m coming to find you.

At least it took him almost an hour and a half to notice. You bit your cheek, looking up at June and Dottie. The two girls were engaged in conversation, talking about something or another. You cleared the notifications and unlocked your phone, hoping to god you got to finish your lunch before John caught up. You opened the camera roll and scrolled through until you found a picture of you and the bodyguard. Somehow, you'd gotten him to agree to a photo. He was bent over so his head was level with your own. Due to the lighting, the man was squinting, however the dark gaze caused a chill to form down your back. You cleared your throat and flipped your phone around to show the girls. Dottie stopped talking and immediately looked at the screen

“Oh my god.” She murmured, sitting back and putting her hand over her chest. “He’s so handsome.” June grabbed the phone from you to get a better look.

“You have to fuck him.” The eldest commented with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders. You let out a short laugh, snatching your phone back from the girls grasp. The two girls giggled at your embarrassment, Dot even took a coy sip from her drink.

“Was that gray in his beard? How old is he?” Dottie asked, looking you in the eye and sipping on her own cocktail.

“Don’t laugh, okay? He’s mid fifties.” A blush crawled across your cheeks as your words escaped your lips. June and Dottie blinked a couple times before Dot finally let out a snort.

“Going geriatric, now? hm?” June spoke, raising her brow and taking a gulp of her drink. While Dottie laughed at June’s question, you glanced over their shoulders, witnessing two burly men sit down at a table across from yours. One of them made eye contact with you, glare evident in their gaze, before looking back to their buddy. You felt your skin crawl and cleared your throat, pushing the feeling away. June’s laughter brought you back, now looking between the two girls again.

“Well, He- He really doesn't feel old. Not when we're together.” You shrugged, playing with the condensation on your drink.

“I mean, you’re only twenty-six,” Dot spoke, her eyes glancing between you and June. “You’re young and hot. I don't see an issue.” Your eyes shot up to meet Dottie’s. She smiled at you, her dark brown eyes warming your core.

“Who are we to judge,” June began, a laugh escaping her throat. “I slept with that old guy, remember? He was, like, almost sixty and I was drunk as hell.” You and Dottie laughed, remembering that night. It was June’s twenty-third birthday. You three went to the club to celebrate and the eldest of your group ended up getting too wasted on absinthe. Which resulted in her sleeping with Mitch Johnson, an old friend of your fathers. Small world.

“And you,” June pointed to Dottie, “Are a homewrecker.”

“He never said he was married.” Dottie responded, sticking her tongue out at the woman. The three of you chuckled amongst yourselves before a silence took over. Your eyes once again scanned the room, not being able to shake the eerie feeling those two men implanted. They still sat across the diner and occasionally their eyes would make contact with your own, causing a chill to run up your spine. You quietly flipped your phone over, checking for any more messages from John. The screen remained blank, setting panic to freely course through your veins. His previous message was sent fifteen minutes ago, which meant the man was probably on his way right now. Plus, your parents didn’t live far from Coopers.

The men both stood up now, locking eyes with you. They then looked at the other, as though confirmation was in order, before beginning to walk in the direction that you and the girls sat. Anxiety courses firmly through your veins now, and you could feel your palms gather sweat.

“Girls,” You murmured, gathering their attention. “There are two men walking in our direction now, and I’m pretty sure they are after me.” You kept your voice low, trying to pretend as though you are oblivious. June and Dottie became physically uncomfortable, now shifting in their seats and looking over their shoulders. You felt guilt cross your person, now realizing how serious the situation is. You put your two best friends in harm's way. I mean, It’s not like they’re completely useless; they have parents in the Mafia, they’re trained in combat and weaponry. However, the guilt still bothered you that it was your fault.

“How do we go about this?” Dot asked, reaching for her purse. Your eyes watched as the woman dug into her bag. The pop of a gun chamber sounded as she began to fill it with bullets. June tied her hair back and began to stretch her arms. You sometimes forget that June is trained extensively in Jiu Jitsu. You also looked back to the men who were still making their way to you, passing through the crowded dining room floor.

“Should we leave the public space?” You murmured, “I don’t want civilian casualties.”

“Yes.” June agreed, standing up. “Gather your things, quickly.” She added. The oldest tossed a fifty dollar bill onto the table to pay for the drinks and the food you didn’t get to eat. You led the way, pushing through the crowded dining room to the exit. You glanced back, seeing the men become more frustrated. You are aware of the other, knowing what little cat and mouse game was occurring.

Your palms shoved the door open, the three of you stumbling over onto the sidewalk. You looked both ways before leading right. You didn’t know what to do, whether you should try to outrun them, or stick up and fight. Maybe if you kill them it’ll send a message to Santino. Though, he may not even care. As he’s got twenty more men to fill the space those two would leave. You made sure June and Dottie still followed, checking over your shoulder occasionally. The three of you pushed through the crowds of New York, your main destination being Dottie’s vehicle. Your eyes also kept a lookout for John. He probably tracked your phone, you knew he had the ability anyways. You’re just glad the little ploy worked for as long as it did. You turned right down an alleyway, taking a shortcut towards the parking garage that Dot’s car was in. June looked over her shoulder, alarm blaring through her veins as she spotted the men.

“They’re still behind us.” She spoke, looking between you and Dottie. You took a deep breath, placing your hands on your hips.

“Va al diavolo!” ‘[Go to hell!]’ You cursed, throwing your hands up. Dot quickly grabbed you by the arm, pulling you as she began to run to the end. June grunted as the three of you approached a dead end, meeting a chain link fence.

“Fanculo. Okay, you two climb over.” ‘[Fuck.]’ You spoke, gesturing to the fence that stood in front of you. Your eyes met those of your friends, all breathing heavily from the sprint. Echoed footsteps could be heard at the entrance of the alley. You glanced over your shoulder, seeing the silhouettes of the men headed in your direction.

“Go!” You spoke with a harshness towards your friends.

“Not without you!” Dottie raised her tone, hands on hips. You turned your head again, seeing them get closer.

“Dot, just go!” You finally yelled. The girls hesitated, however respected your wishes and quickly climbed the fence, hopping to the other side. They stood now, staring as the men approached, getting ready to jump back over if need be.

“Santino it ha Inviato?” ‘[Did Santino send you?]’ You asked the men, slowly walking towards them.

“Si.” ‘[Yes.]’ One responded, their faces finally becoming clear from the backlight. You looked at them, noting how they both looked like average Italian men. Dark hair, olive eyes, and warm skin. Their faces were covered in a few scars, and you noted how they both wore suits with visible holsters resting on their hips

“It ha mandato per uccidermi?” ‘[Did he send you to kill me?]’ You asked, the men now only ten feet away from you. The darkness of the alley sent a chill down your spine, and you glanced back at the girls to make sure they were alright. Dot had her hand in her purse, most likely gearing up for when shit turned sideways. June held a stoic look, almost a resting bitch face, staring down the two men.

“Si.” The same one answered again. They now stood only five feet away, stopping in front of you. You felt the sweat drip down your forehead, the buggy summer heat beginning to take claim of your body. You took a deep breath, wondering where John was, and how now would be a good time for him to suddenly appear. The men cracked their knuckles, rolling their shoulders and looking at you with sinister smiles.

“Di ‘a Santino: E un peccato che sia troppo codardo per uccidermi.” ‘[Tell Santino: It’s a shame he’s too much of a coward to kill me himself.]’ You spoke, remembering the moves that your bodyguard had taught you. You leapt forward, first knocking one of the men down by pushing in his kneecaps. You took the moment to quickly hit the next guy, however, he blocked your blow, sending you back a few feet. The second man took advantage of your hesitation and grabbed you, throwing you into one of the walls. You let out a yelp, feeling the brick scrape bare skin harshly. The first guy stood up, and threw a fist at you, however, you quickly dodged and used his own momentum to toss his body into the wall.

You felt as the second lackey quickly punched your gut, causing you to double over in pain. June and Dottie stood yelling which you could hear through ringing ears. You recovered quickly, countering the second man with a swift kick to his shin. He groaned, but recovered and swung a fist at you. You managed to dodge the blow and delivered a hearty boot to his groin. He quickly dropped to the ground in pain and you grabbed the pistol from his holster, pulling the trigger and placing one bullet into his skull. The second man used this moment to grab your loose shirt, and throw you into the brick, scraping your skin once again. He lifted his foot and conveyed a kick to your gut, sending you to double over. He used his fist to hit the sides of your face, throwing your head back and forth. You could feel blood begin to drip down your face, the pain that each snap of your neck caused, you could hear June and Dot yelling but it was faint. Time felt slowed, your heartbeat was like a drum in your ear. Then, a gunshot.

All movements stopped, followed by the thud of a body hitting the ground near your own. You slowly slid down, ignoring the burning chafe the brick left. Hot tears stung your eyes as you covered them with your hands, a harsh sob leaving your throat. Your body ached, your face burned, and blood was the only taste that donned your mouth. You heard the chain link rattle as somebody climbed over it, as well as a huff when they landed. A gentle hand placed itself on your shoulder, and you saw as they knelt down, due to the shadow.

“(Y/N).” John. A hoarse cry escaped your throat upon hearing your bodyguards gentle voice. He wasn’t angry, like you expected. Instead, his tone seemed more worried than anything. You managed to look up at the man from your hands, your eyes greeting the sight of his own.

“Oh my god, (Y/N)!” You heard Dottie yell as she approached your side. The two girls quickly examined your body, nearly shoving John out of the way.

“I fucked up.” You didn’t even recognize your voice as you spoke— your throat burned. June dotted your bloody forehead with a napkin from Dot’s purse.

“We should get her back home.” Dottie murmured, looking up at John. The dark haired man nodded, agreeing with the woman. June moved out of the way so he could scoop you into his arms. You lay your head onto his chest, faintly hearing the sound of his heartbeat and breathing. The man carried you out of the alley with June and Dottie close behind. You felt the summer sun warm your face as you exited the cool shade of the alleyway. The fresh breeze brought your attention to the cuts on your face, feeling the coolness from the semi-dried blood. Dottie opened the vehicles door and John placed you in the passenger seat, buckling your body firmly in. The two girls hopped into the back, John promising they’d be returned to their car later this evening. You heard the rumble of the engine, and closed your eyes, feeling tiredness numb the pain that ravaged your figure.

——————

“How long have you been employed by the (Y/L/N)’s?” Dottie’s gentle voice quietly echoed throughout your bedroom. Mellow sun rays shone in through the window, casting a warm haze throughout the space. After the incident in the alleyway, John brought you, Dottie, and June back to your parents estate. However, after you all got back, John discovered they'd left on business to Rome for a few days. He carried your figure all the way from the car to your bed, carefully depositing you. Dot and June then got to work, bandaging your wounds, though after you seemed stable and well asleep, they backed off and let you get some rest. Now, John watched as Dottie cared for your sleeping figure. His heart couldn’t help but ache to see you so helpless laying there. Your face had been drained of some of its color, leaving it more pale and sickly. Your hair stuck to your skin, and a thin layer of sweat covered your body. Your bodyguard wanted so badly to climb into the bed with you, stroke your hair from your face, tend to your bandages, hold you, kiss you.

“Month and a half.” John answered, looking over to the woman. She nodded at his answer, dotting your forehead with a wet washcloth. The woman sat next to your bed with a rag in hand, occasionally cleaning your skin of sweat and dried blood specs. June was asleep on the small couch you had in your bedroom next to one of the windows. John stood on the opposite side of the bed from Dottie, watching her every movement when it came to caring for you. Occasionally your body would stir, but you still hadn’t woken up since the car— four hours ago.

“Are you liking it?” The vintage dressed woman asked, a smirk crossing her red lips. She cast her eyes between John and your sleeping figure, hinting as to what she was meaning.

“I am.” He responded. Dottie noticed his softened gaze when he looked towards you. She glanced back down at your face, wiping your skin with the washcloth gently. Your brow bone contained a nasty laceration and your cheekbone held a nice bruise with a cut as well. There was also a gash on your bottom lip, and your left eye held a hefty black bruise. That man really got ahold of you.

“They're a good family. I know Francesco means well,” Dot murmured, “Speaking of, have you let them know?” John watched as the woman stood up and walked to the bathroom retrieving a fresh bowl of water for your face.

“I called Francesco shortly after we arrived here.” The dark haired man spoke. He sat on the edge of the bed, leaning towards your figure. He brushed away a few strands of hair that had fallen in your face. His thumb caressed your cheek afterwords, carefully avoiding the wounds that donned your skin. He felt your body stir, and a quiet groan escape your lips as you started to wake up. Dot walked back into the room, noting Johns figure looming over your own. A little smirk crossed her lips as she set the bowl down on the nightstand. You peeked your eyes open for a second, wincing at the brightness of the room.

“Good afternoon, sleepy.” Dottie smiled, sitting beside your figure again. “Careful.” She murmured, watching as you shifted to sit up a little better. You knew Dottie was next to you, but could feel the weight of somebody on your other side. A large hand quietly placed itself on the side of your arm and you looked to see who it belonged to.

“How do you feel?” John’s words were gently spoken. His fingers squeezed your arm slightly before he released.

“M-my throat hurts.” Your voice came out scratchy and withered sounding. Dottie quickly placed a cool glass of water into your palms, hers then wrapping around yours before releasing entirely. You gave her the best smile you could manage, due to your cuts, before sipping the drink. John stood up from the bed and made a comment about going to grab pain medicine before he exited your bedroom.

“I'm going to wake up June.” Dottie spoke, walking over to her sleeping position by the window. You blinked your eyes, feeling the pain from the cuts, and groaned silently. It was stupid of you to think you could take on both of them. Your training with John was going fine, you figured if you at least got one down… No matter, at least you were still alive. The footsteps of your two friends caught your attention as the girls returned to your side. June immediately began to gush over how happy she was you were awake and okay, hugging you tightly.

“We thought you were a goner.” The girl whispered, worry still evident in her tone. You raised your brows but winced as the sting from the cut became overwhelming.

“I'm glad John showed up when he did. Like a superhero. He stood there with his gun and you should've seen the animalistic look in his eye.” Dottie sighed dreamily, “You are one lucky girl.”

“I know about your ‘no dating’ rule, however, I don't think you should let this one get away.” June commented quietly, brushing some hair from your face. Dot agreed, shaking her head vigorously. The three of you cut the conversation short as John's footsteps echoed closer. He entered the room quietly and padded over to the bed, handing you a bottle of painkillers. Your fingers brushed as the container was passed and you felt a longing for the touch to remain; however just as the warmth arrived, it left.

——————

June and Dottie stayed over for another hour before leaving. They helped you change your clothes and settle in for the night before they left you in the capable hands of John. The two of you remained in your bedroom the rest of the evening. You went in and out of sleep a few times. One time, you woke to the man humming quietly while sitting in bed next to your figure. Another, he was checking your bandages and cleaning the sheen of sweat from your skin. Maybe what June said is right, you can’t let John get away. Nobody has cared for you like he has. But that begged the question, would he even want to be with you? You’re half his age and apart of a mafia family. Plus, you still don't know much about him; his past, his home life, etc. He is a mysterious being, quiet too. It only made you want to know more.

“John?” You murmured, gathering the strength to sit up. It was late evening now, just past eight. The summer sun had just set, leaving a gray tone to cover the space.

“Yes?” He answered, turning to face you. He had been sitting at your desk, cleaning his gun.

“Parlami di te.” ‘[Tell me about yourself.]’ The man responded to your request by putting down the parts in his hand. He then quietly cleaned his fingers of grime before standing up and padding over to you, but not sitting.

“What would you like to know?” He murmured. You studied his face for a moment, taking in the features he donned. His normally combed hair was disheveled now and he had bags under his eyes. He wore a suit and shoes too, obviously still dressed for work.

“Everything.” You replied, ignoring the throb of pain that coursed through your body. John nodded, then loosened the tie from his around neck. He shed off his suit jacket next, leaving him in a black button up and vest on top. You admired his figure in the darkening room. He stood tall, confident, maybe a little tired, but didn't let it show much. The man settled on the edge of your bed, by your feet. The room remained silent for a few moments; you not daring to speak, and John taking the time to gather his thoughts.

“I was married.” John’s voice was so soft, you had to lean towards him to hear better. The man kept his gaze towards his hands, fidgeting with his fingers.

“Was?” You asked, pushing aside the slight feeling of jealousy that rose.

“She- she passed due to an illness years back.” The bodyguard paused.

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.” You let out quietly, as to not bother John’s story process.

“I was retired and wanted to live my days as a widower, however I was dragged back into the business by an old friends’ idiot son.” The man sighed, pushing some fallen hair behind his ear. You caught a glimpse at how sad he appeared, and felt an urge to comfort him. Pain shot through your body as you scooted down the bed until you were close enough to John. You grabbed his hand and his fingers instinctively intertwined with your own, making you realize just how large his palms actually were. It felt right, his hand being wrapped with your own.

“Ever since then, I haven't left the business again. I see no point. I can't seem to leave anyways, I keep getting dragged back in.” He sighed heavily and you began to rub your thumb along his hand, as your way of comforting him. He fell silent, but you didn't push anymore questions just yet. He was being open and raw, which was probably difficult for the man to do. If he wanted to tell his story, he would. You wanted to know more, obviously, about the kind of work he's done; his jobs, the people he’s met, and if he knew anyone in your family. You wanted to know why the man was so troubled, and why it seemed everybody is against him.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” Your voice escaped softly, barely above a whisper. John's hand squeezed your own, before he finally made eye contact with you. His dark gaze caused a chill to slither down your spine.

“Yes.” He spoke softly, “I need to go change.” He gave your hand one last squeeze before removing it and standing up. You watched as his figure walked across your room and disappeared behind the door. It only took him about five minutes before he returned, ready for bed. Sure, it was barely nine, but you figured you could put on a movie. You drank in the sight of him, admiring his pajamas. Blue with plaid stripes, and a plain white t-shirt. You’ve never seen him in anything but a suit, nevermind the sweatsuit outfit from when you train. This is different than that, this is a side of John that doesn't say ‘Hey, i'm a killer!’ This side is domestic; make you coffee and toast in the morning domestic.

“Would you like to watch a movie?” You then asked, watching him tidy up his mess from cleaning his gun, which he didn't finish.

“Sure.” He responded, walking over and climbing onto the bed next to your figure. You turned on your TV, and picked a movie from a streaming service, before fully settling in. You scoot your body close enough to John’s that you were able to lay your head on his chest. The man wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you even closer, but gently as to not cause you more pain. You listened to his heartbeat as it slowed to a resting rhythm, and then closed your eyes letting sleep overcome your senses.

Masterlist

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick fanfic #john wick fanfiction #keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #keanu x you #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves fanfiction #fic: bodyguardAU

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fatbottombucky · 5 years ago

Note

a jealous mob!bucky sound sexy asf tbh rn, lmfao anyways love you

Idk why but I NEED Sebastian in an actual Mob movie. I’m talking The Goodfella’s type. None of this new Mob stuff, old school Mafia/Mob movies.

Rating: (+18) Explicit

Warnings: possessive behaviour, slight dom/sub & smut (readers pronouns she/her & has a vagina)

James didn’t really like when she was around his work.

He didn’t mind her around the small Italian restaurant that covered his real work, the front; a cover for all the illegal shit he did. Seeing her smiling at patrons in the candlelight, taking their orders and keeping up a front for him- he liked that.

She made it seem normal. Real. That this place is family run and owned.

He didn’t like when his two worlds collided, like tonight. She knew of his work, her dad was one of the meanest Mob bosses that walked this earth. He made a firm promise to keep her well away like her father had done.

Yet, here she was parading around in a short red dress. Smiling softly and talking just as sweetly to his men as they sat in the back corner booth- awaiting their meeting with him. He stood at the entrance of his restaurant watching as she made them laugh, battered her long lashes, tilting her head as she listened to them talk.

His wife.

“James,” your voice beckons him forwards.

Chatter ceases.

“Didn’t I tell you stay home tonight?” His eyes never leaves her, a stubbornness shines through her and that just won’t do. “Meetings tomorrow, my house,” his men don’t have to be told twice and the staff working tonight already begin to close up.

Bucky sits in the booth his men occupied, whilst you hastily start to close the restaurant. He catches you nervously glancing over every few seconds, he doesn’t miss the slight shake of your hands as you lock the restaurant door after saying a goodbye to the chef.

“Come ‘ere,” he beckons you over with a nod of his head, voice velvety smooth and almost calming-too calm.

You stand before him, nervously wringing your hands together and biting your bottom lip. He looks you up and down for a few short moments, leaning back in the booth with his legs spread wide apart.

“Strip.”

It’s a simple request but it makes you frown. Confused and a little turned on, mostly confused, you glance to the front. The shutters are down, but they don’t conceal the window- if people looked in as they walked past they’d definitely see you.

“Look at me,” your eyes dart to Bucky’s, “I said strip.” Voice stern and holding no tone of argument.

You silently pull the side zipper down, the sound echoing in the silent restaurant. The dress pools at your heeled feet, you step out of it and kick it the side. Now in just black lingerie, nothing too fancy or sexy, just lacy but the way Bucky looks at you.

His jaw tenses, clenching abd unclenching. You’ve done something wrong. You can tell because he’s refusing to touch you; this is punishment.

“Do you like their attention?” The question throws you off, “is my attention not enough for you that you’ve gotta flaunt yourself in front of them?”

“I don’t know-“ you’re cut off by his stern gaze as he stands up.

His large hand gently wraps around your neck as he walks around you, standing behind you, his hand applying little pressure but soon leaves your body. Your eyes glance up, shivers erupting over your body as you catch a glimpse of him in the decorative mirror tar hangs above the booth.

Steel eyes meet your own, “you’re mine,” lips softly press to your cheek.

Without much resistance he pushes you to bend over the table by the nape of you neck, rings catching in your hair. Your belly rests flat on the surface, legs spread apart for him and your hands resting gracefully on your back- you’ve been in this position enough that it’s just a reflex.

You feel behind you, nimble fingers undoing his belt with a triumphant metal clank and the zipper coming undone. Your body tingles with excitement as he pushes your panties to the side, doing well at not touching you where you need him most.

You feel him gently prod you entrance, the air leaves your body and tenses slightly. You feel his hands grab your hips, a bruising grip- then without much warning he pushes into you. He pushes in to the hilt, stays there for a second before he pulls out.

He doesn’t give you time to adjust to his length or girth, you hiss in pain but whine in pleasure. His body leans over you, he’s fully clothed and the chain around his neck rests against you bare neck. His hand has a firm grasp on your neck, his body plowing into your own, the table scraping against the titled floor.

“Say you’re mine,” he growls into you ear.

You can only moan in response, unable to form coherent sentences or even words, you’re just a babbling mess underneath him.

He punishes your silence with a rather hard thrust, one that has you head spinning and heart thumping. Then he stills his hips, his breathing is somehow steady despite his brutal pace. You whine at the loss of pleasure, his cock buried deep inside if you, you’re so full yet he’s not moving or doing anything to calm your scorching body.

“Say it.” His grip on you neck tightens.

“I’m- god- I’m yours,” you moan, somehow moving your head to the side and looking at him, ��I’m only yours,” you whisper lowly, only for his ears, not that anyone is around to hear but he affects him nonetheless.

His cock twitches inside of you at your words. The possessiveness he has over you, hearing that from you- it spurs him on.

He ducks you harder. Faster. Almost like he’s trying to prove his worth, prove he’s the best. The only one that’ll love you this good, fuck you this good. Your orgasm shakes you, had legs turning to jelly, and your whole body is electrifying. You clench around Bucky, brining his own release and milking him for all he’s worth.

He pants above you, laying on top of you and still inside of you.

Jealousy. It’s a weird thing.

Without anyone realising it, maybe even him not knowing either, you’ve got the most power over Bucky.

Panting still, grateful that your body is on the cold surface, only it does nothing to your hot body. Sweat makes hair stick to your forehead, it makes the chain Bucky is wearing cling to your back.

“I was here,” you begin, “to see you.” You smile when you hear Bucky sigh, “the only attention I ever want is yours,” you bring a hand up and run it through bud short hair, scratching his scalp.

He kisses your neck, “I think you know exactly what you did tonight and got exactly the reaction you wanted from me.”

You couldn’t hide the smirk on the your face.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes drabble

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voyager-into-the-unknown · 5 years ago

Text

An Evening at an Earth Mall

By truegryffindorforever2

(Part 2 of a series, beginning with “An Afternoon in the Garden”)

Summary: Sam is overprotective, Colleen is supportive, Hunk texts Lance when he’s shopping at the mall, and Lance nearly dies of second hand embarrassment when he realizes that Katie Holt, is in fact, not a girl, but a young woman.

After heading to the men’s locker room to change out of his Garrison uniform and into comfortable civilian clothing, Lance headed towards the base’s garage to meet up with Pidge and Colleen. As he approached Mrs. Holt’s car, he heard Sam’s voice from a distance.

“Boyfriend?! Since when?” Sam exclaimed angrily.

“Since today. But we have been really close for a long time, Dad. We were best friends for the last few years—“

“He’s too old for you!”

“He’s a year and eight months older than me. And besides, I’m eighteen years old, and that’s old enough to have a boyfriend.”

“Katie, I’ve watched The Voltron Show. Colleen, did you know that this boy’s nickname is Loverboy Lance?! How did he get a nickname like that, Katie?”

“Dad, that show was totally fake, and Coran gave him that ridiculous nickname. We all thought it was hilarious because Lance hasn’t ever really had a serious girlfriend before—“

“Your friends say that he’s the biggest flirt in the Galaxy. How do you know he won’t break your heart?”

“Dad, please. Lance is a great guy. He’s sweet and funny and honest and brave. And I wouldn’t be standing here talking to you right now if it weren’t for him. He’s saved my life quite a few times.”

Sam exhaled, then was silent, pondering all of this. Lance stood in shadow, behind a large armored vehicle that kept him hidden from view. His heart was hammering in his chest. He wanted the Holts to like him. What could he do to earn Sam’s trust?

“Colleen, what do you think of all this?”

“Well, he seems like a nice young man, and I trust our daughter’s judgement.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“Also, he’s probably heading this way right now, so you had better be on your best behavior, Sam.”

“All right, but whether you are eighteen or eighty, Katie Holt, so long as you live under my roof, you will have a curfew when you go out at night with that young man. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

Lance knew he had to face Sam eventually, but at the moment he just wanted to stay hidden. He took a deep breath, and stepped forward into the light.

“There he is.” Pidge waved, smiling at him as she moved toward him.

Lance enveloped Pidge in his arms, and she squeezed him tightly, giving him a swift kiss on the cheek. He grinned at her.

“Hello everyone!” He turned to Sam and snapped to attention to give a salute. “Commander Holt, sir.”

Sam saluted him in return. “Paladin.” Lance extended his right hand and Sam shook it cordially. “So, I hear you are escorting my daughter to the Garrison Ball.”

“Yes, sir.” Pidge took Lance’s left hand, giving it a little squeeze. He smiled at her, then turned back to Sam. “It’s a great honor sir. I think I must be the luckiest guy in the universe.” Pidge beamed at him, and they both blushed as pink as the sunset over the grand mesa just beyond the western gate.

Sam felt a wave of nostalgia, remembering how young he and Colleen were when they first started dating. For a moment, Lance reminded him of himself at that age. The genuine affection between the two of young people was apparent. He honestly couldn’t remember seeing his daughter so happy since she returned home from space, and for a moment he felt a pang of regret. He had missed so much of her growing up while he was a prisoner of the Galra. She matured into a brilliant, courageous young woman, one who had fought warlords and sentries, bounty hunters and space pirates, and who had helped save the universe from destruction alongside this awkwardly earnest, gangly young man who obviously wore his heart on his sleeve.

“You kids have a nice time at the mall. Matt and I are eating supper in the mess hall tonight, and then we’re finishing up a few things in the lab before the weekend.”

“Well, I’ve had a notion. I’m making my famous baked ziti with garlic knots for lunch on Saturday. Sam, wouldn’t it be nice if we invited Lance over tomorrow?”

“Indeed. How does 11:00 sound?”

“Sounds great, sir.”

Colleen smiled. “You know, Lance, Sam and I were quite the ballroom dancers back in our day. We could give you and Katie a few pointers if you’d like.”

“It’s true. Mom and dad gave me dancing lessons since I was little, whether I liked it or not.”

“She’s a natural,” Sam added.

“My parents taught me most of the traditional Latin American dances when I was just a kid, but I am really out of practice. This is going to be fun!” Lance said with enthusiasm.

“Well, we’re all set, then. We had better head out towards the mall,” Colleen said cheerfully. “We’ll be home around ten, dear.” She kissed her husband goodbye and got into the driver’s seat. Katie, to her mother’s surprise, didn’t want to sit in the front passenger’s seat as she usually did. She sat on the back seat with Lance, who couldn’t seem to wipe the dreamy smile off of his face if he tried. As they sped away across the desert Colleen was almost certain that he was holding her daughter’s hand.

The mall wasn’t too crowded, considering that it was a Friday night. Lance was impressed with how quickly the place had been remodeled in the aftermath of the invasion. So much had changed since they had been chosen as Paladins of Voltron, and it took some getting used to. They encountered nearly as many off-world species as humans among the vendors and shoppers, but somehow it was weirdly familiar.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say we were back at the Space Mall,” said Pidge, voicing his thoughts aloud.

“Yeah. Hey, look, Pidge! It’s the guy from the Earth Store!” Lance pointed to the skinny grey-green alien wearing an Area 51 baseball cap. “I don’t think he’s giving away any free Kalteneckers today, though.”

“Kalteneckers?” asked Colleen.

“She’s our cow. It’s a long story, Mom.”

“Sam said something about you two having a cow in space, but I thought he was kidding, or delusional.”

“She was free with purchase. Pidge really wanted that Mercury Gameflux II with a vintage copy of Killbot Phantasm, but we were completely broke,” Lance explained.

“So we took off our shoes, rolled up our trouser legs and went wading in the mall’s wishing fountain to look for coins,” said Pidge.

“Katie Holt! You know I raised you better than that. My daughter, the criminal,” Colleen chided, in mock disapproval.

“Yeah, she’s a bad influence on me.” Lance grinned. “We nearly got arrested by the Mall Cop. But we escaped with Kaltenecker on a hover board.”

“The things a man will do for love,” Pidge teased. “Lance hit his head when we escaped and nearly gave himself a concussion.”

“Yeah, but you wanted to kiss it and make it all better, right?”

“No, I did not,” she said indignantly, “but I had to bandage you up after that fall because Hunk was riding shotgun with Coran, and Keith was ready to eject you into space.”

Colleen sighed. How had these kids managed to become saviors of the universe? Perhaps the Creator of the Cosmos had a sense of humor.

After a bit of window shopping, they found both the tuxedo shop and the dress shop they were searching for.

“Lance, when you are done trying on tuxedos, you can ask the saleswoman at the dress shop to show you to the lounging area in the back of the store. There are some comfortable armchairs for patient husbands, or in this case, boyfriends, who may have to wait a long time for their significant other to finish trying on dresses.”

Finding a tuxedo that fit him was relatively easy. Lance was tall and slim, and nearly any style looked great on him. He tried on the most classy one he could afford, and then made finger guns at himself as he admired his own reflection in the shop’s main mirror. “Razzle Dazzle, Baby!” He did a little dance, humming to himself as he strutted back and forth, and then he stopped himself, realizing that the other refined gentle beings in the shop were staring at him. “I had better stop that,” he thought. “Sam Holt definitely doesn’t want his daughter dating a goofball.”

After he was finished at the tuxedo shop, Lance headed back to the dress shop and found one of the comfortable armchairs that Colleen was talking about. There were magazines to browse through, but they were all about fashions for ladies, so he decided to check his phone when he sat down. He had a few missed calls. There was a text from Hunk that caught his attention as soon as he checked his messages.

Hunk: Where are you? I’ve been trying to reach you all evening.

Lance: At the mall. I just picked out my tux for the Garrison Ball. 😎

Hunk: Wait a minute, the ball? Did you do it?!

Lance: Do what?

Hunk: Ask her out.

Lance: Ask who out?

Hunk: You’re denser than a neutron star. YOU KNOW WHO I’M TALKING ABOUT. Your best friend.

Lance: Sorry, Hunk, I can’t take you to the ball. My girlfriend would be jealous.

Hunk: Not me! Your other best friend! And since when do you have a girlfriend?!

Lance: Um, since this afternoon. Since we made out in her mom’s hydroponics lab. 😙💋😉

Hunk: No way!

Lance: Yes, way. 😎 *Razzle Dazzle!*

Hunk: I hope you were a gentleman. She’s a sweet, innocent girl, so you better keep that in mind, Loverboy. And she happens to be my best friend, too. So if you ever hurt her...

Lance: I’ll never hurt her. I love her.

Hunk: 😮😃😍

Lance: She loves me too. 🥰

Hunk: I’m crying rn. I’m so happy for you both.

Lance: I call dibs on the best man.

Hunk: What?

Lance: When we get married, I call dibs on you for the best man. Pidge will fight me for you, so I’m calling dibs.

Hunk: 😂 You haven’t even gone on your first date yet, you nut.

Lance: No, but we have already planned our second date, which is really happening before the first date, so maybe the second date really is the first date.

Hunk: You’re not making any sense.

Lance: Italian food and ballroom dancing tomorrow at the Holts.

Hunk: Smooth. They don’t call you Loverboy for nothing.

Lance: ✨😎✨

Hunk: Talk to you later, man.

Lance: Later, dude.

Lance checked a few other messages and put his phone away. Just when he was bored enough to pick up a magazine, he heard Pidge and her mother having a conversation in the dressing room closest to him.

“Let’s see the next one, darling.” There was the sound of a dressing room door opening. “Oh that color is beautiful on you. Turn around...let’s see it...Oh, I love it!”

“It’s my favorite so far, too,” said Pidge.

“But you can’t wear it with your bra straps showing like that. Try it on with the strapless bra.”

“I did. It doesn’t fit right.”

“Why not? Is it the right size?”

“I don’t have enough up top to hold it up. It keeps falling off me. I might as well not wear a bra at all.”

Lance’s eyes were as round as saucers and his face felt as if it were on fire. His imagination was now filled with naughty thoughts about his girlfriend wearing a bra, then wearing a strapless bra, and then wearing...

“Did you try the bustier with it?”

“You mean this white lacy thing that looks like a corset?”

“Yes, with the matching lace panties. Aren’t they adorable?”

Lance’s jaw dropped, then he covered his face with the magazine, hoping no one saw how he looked right now. Is this how spontaneous human combustion occurs? He might just burst into flames any moment now. Holy crow!

“Mom, this looks like bridal lingerie. And it’s expensive.”

“It is, dear. But it’s so worth it.”

“But why spend so much on underwear that no one will get to see except me?”

“Well, if everything goes well, maybe Lance will get to see you wearing it...someday.”

“Mother!”

“I meant on your wedding night, dear.”

“MOM! Can you be any more embarrassing?!”

Lance had sunk as deeply into the armchair as humanly possible. Maybe if he sat still long enough he could turn invisible. He hoped the armchair wasn’t flammable.

Several humiliating minutes (hours?) later, he heard Pidge and her mother come to an agreement about the dress (and the lacy unmentionables), and he decided that it would be best if he wasn’t there when they came out of the dressing room area. If Pidge saw his face she would know instantly what he had overheard, and then he actually might die of embarrassment, or worse, he might say something stupid like “Aw, that’s a cute little bustier,” and then she might turn her bayard on him and murder him on the spot.

Yes, now was definitely a good time to go use the men’s room. He would meet them in front of the store later.

The shoe store was next, and Pidge was apprehensive about wearing the sort of high heeled slippers that would have to be worn with her dress. She teetered back and forth awkwardly when she she tried to walk on such tiny heels, and once, she stumbled right into Lance’s arms. He caught her, and smiled his most charming smile at her. “I always knew you would fall for me,” he said in his huskiest voice. “I’m irresistible.”

“More like incorrigible. Mom, are you sure I can’t wear flats with this dress?”

Finally, after finding a pair of shoes with a wider (and lower) heel, they put all of their purchases in the trunk of the car, then went back into the mall for a late supper at the food court.

“Hey, look, they have a Vrepit Sal’s!” Lance exclaimed happily.

“Mom, you have to try this place. Their whole menu is based on Hunk’s original recipes. The food is amazing!”

*******

It was a clear night, the desert sky alit by thousands of distant stars, some with worlds they had visited, teeming with life. The drive home was a peaceful one, with Colleen at the wheel. Through her rear view mirror, she could see Lance and Pidge sitting behind her, quietly reminiscing about their many adventures in space, until Pidge yawned, snuggled closer to him, and finally fell asleep against Lance’s chest. Lance, who already had his arm around her, kissed the top of her head and closed his eyes, smiling as one does when having a very, very pleasant dream.

#plance #pidge #lance #colleen holt #sam holt #hunk garrett #flirty robot #katie holt #vld #voltron

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