#noise from gun club

[megalony]

Don't Worry Darlin'

Okay, so here is my first imagine for Jake Seresin from Top Gun: Maverick. I had so much fun writing this and I really want to write more for Jake if I can.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro

Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) joins her boyfriend and his team at the Hard Deck bar. But when someone tries to make unwanted advances on her, Jake steps in.

(If anyone has any Jake! requests I would love to try write them)

Enjoy.

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(Y/n) looked around the bar she stepped inside with her arms pinned around her waist and her lips pressed together tightly. She didn't like walking into places like this alone.

Clubs and bars weren’t really (Y/n)’s scene, going out at all wasn't really her scene if she was being honest. She loved to be around her friends, especially when she was out with Jake and the Dagger Squad who seemed to be more like a family than work friends. They were fun and inviting and they always welcomed her in with open arms. But going out to a bar that was drastically overcrowded with strangers who had no concept of personal space and no idea how to be polite wasn't typically (Y/n)'s idea of a good night.

Being within close proximity with strangers wasn't something (Y/n) liked to do, and she didn't drink half as much as Jake and his friends. That always meant she was the sober one left to keep an eye on everyone and the situations that always unravelled.

At least the Hard Deck was preferable to a club.

The music from the jukebox wasn't viciously loud and at least all the songs were actually good and ones that could be sung and danced to. And the atmosphere in here was calmer than half the other bars in the area, and with the aviators always frequenting the Hard Deck, it meant if anyone got rowdy, they were always kept in line.

(Y/n) had watched Jake throw countless people out after they started getting disrespectful or tried to start fights.

It was different for Jake.

The crowds, the noise, the closeness and the atmosphere didn't bother him. But since he had met and got into a relationship with (Y/n), a few things had changed. Jake didn't entertain the girls who tried to hang around him and the other aviators anymore. He didn't chat up the girls at the bar or flirt his way into their bed only to leave them hanging and alone the next morning.

Whenever (Y/n) was around, his hand was almost always tangled with hers or his arm was wrapped around her waist, coiling her into his side for safety and comfort. It was a comfort for both of them to always have his hand on her hip or tucked into her back pocket or his arm slung over her shoulders so she didn't stray far from his side.

A grin spread across (Y/n)'s lips when she looked ahead past the bar and her eyes locked onto a familiar frame.

A tall, lean figure with broad shoulders that were straining against the beige button up shirt he always wore for work. Dark sandy blond hair trimmed short but kept long enough on top so that it could just about form into a wave that matched the low tide of the ocean. Those dark blue eyes that squinted badly when he smiled so widely that his grin took over the expanse of his face and made him look cheeky.

The moment his head turned in her direction, Jake's open-mouthed smile changed into a soft but overly charming look that almost had (Y/n) melting on the spot.

He leaned his hips back against the pool table, cue in one hand and his other hand in her direction, waving her over to him and the other aviators scattered around the table.

(Y/n) tucked a free strand of hair behind her ear and scuttled past the bar, hurrying past the nearby people she didn't want to get too close to. Her adrenaline started to course through her system and light her up like a wildfire when she got close and the moment she was within reach, Jake's arm was around her waist.

He reeled her into his chest and smothered his lips against her temple. (Y/n) looped her arms around his chest when she felt Jake's hand curl around her hip, giving her a gentle but loving squeeze. She felt each breath he took as he leaned further back to let (Y/n) slouch into him and his lips only parted from her temple when (Y/n) pressed her chin into his sternum so she could look up at him.

"There's my girl, you okay?" His voice was quiet compared to the roaring voices surrounding them and the jukebox playing a Queen song in the background.

"Hm, are you winning?" Her thumbs brushed over Jake's back while he tapped the end of his cue against her shoulder as if to mark his point.

"Don't I always?"

He wasn't looking for an answer and he didn't give (Y/n) time to try and respond before his head was tipping down in her direction and his lips meshed with hers. (Y/n) could taste the tang of beer on his lips that were oddly sweet and she could feel how he tried not to smile too widely and break the kiss. His touch on her hip turned firm and he leaned forward, pushing his frame into hers and subsequently tipping her backwards in the process.

Her hands shifted round from his back to cling to his shoulders just in case he leaned any closer and set her off balance.

(Y/n) could see stars twinkling in front of her eyes when they finally pulled back for air and Jake's nose brushed against hers.

She heard one or two of the guys in the group let out wolf whistles, but she paid them no mind. They were only joking around. Her fingers brushed against Jake's neck and curved round to pull at the short strands of hair at the back of his neck, causing his lips to mould together, smothering a groan.

"Do you want another drink?" Her breath hitched when Jake pushed forward into her and walked her back a few paces so he was no longer leaning against the pool table.

Jake nodded as he leaned down to capture her lips in another kiss that tasted like the cherry lip balm she always used because she knew he secretly loved the zing it left on his lips. It was that lip balm that always tainted Jake's lips in a pale hue of plum purple that Phoenix had noticed once and subsequently never let him live down.

"Sure baby. We've got a tab open." He nudged his nose against hers when (Y/n) finally stepped out of his embrace.

He could feel her eyes lingering on him as he reached his hand behind him to strum his fingers against the pool table while his tongue darted across his lips that were starting to tingle and taste of cherry.

"Hey (Y/n)."

"Hey Rooster." She dipped her head down as she passed him, feeling his hand on her shoulder while he grinned coyly at her. She could barely see his eyes through his tinted glasses but the way he flashed his teeth through his smile showed he was in a good mood as they passed in opposite directions. (Y/n) towards the bar, and Bradley towards the rest of the aviators to join them in a game.

(Y/n) was sure she could feel her partner's gaze lingering on her, scolding right through her as she approached the bar.

He knew how nervous she got and he hardly ever let her out of his sight because of it. Jake knew that while he could be a party animal, (Y/n) had her limits and if ever she wanted to leave all she had to do was say and he would wrap himself around her and follow her out.

Whatever joke had been said must have been funny for their laughter to follow (Y/n) over to the bar.

Jake didn’t know how infectious his laughter was or how melodic it sounded or how his laugh sent shivers running down (Y/n)’s spine. She had a video on her phone of them all when they were at the beach, and Jake's laugh was the best part. (Y/n) could rewind that video and listen to his laughter on repeat when he was away on missions.

Everything about Jake, his personality, his looks, his signature traits and movements and expressions, all of him was intoxicating to (Y/n). And the worst part was that he knew it too. Before they started dating, Jake liked to see how hard he could make (Y/n) blush and and see how flustered she would get around him because he knew what effect he had on her.

When she reached the bar, (Y/n) pushed up on her toes and folded her arms over the surprisingly clean bar that wasn't lathered with spilt drinks for once.

She caught Penny's eye and put in her request for a round of drinks that she could take back to the group. Her fingers strummed against the bar, nails tapping out a beat that no one could hear over the boisterous voices and the song that was about to end on the fading jukebox.

"How about a dance?"

It took (Y/n) a moment longer than it should have to realise that there was a man on her right who was now talking to her. He seemed to have slithered up from nowhere and he was standing close enough that their arms were almost touching.

He had short greasy hair slicked back on his head with a lot of wax that made him look like something out of a dance movie. His smile was almost charming with a few pearly white teeth shining through, but (Y/n) saw Jake's dimpled grin almost every day and that was worth more than a thousand smiles from any stranger here.

"Oh, no thank you." She shook her head and tried to smile politely, she wasn't here for a hook up unless it was with her very own pilot and she didn't dance with strangers.

"What about your name?" His smile stayed put on his face and he inched closer until (Y/n) could smell the alcohol on his breath and see the faraway look in his eyes. It made her wonder how long he had been here at the Hard Deck and how many drinks he had consumed.

Maybe someone had broken the house rules and had to buy a round for everyone here. Maybe a few rounds had been bought for this man and that was why he looked too drunk for his own good right now.

When she looked him up and down, she noticed he was in the same beige uniform as Jake. He was an aviator, but he wasn't from the Dagger squad and he hadn't worked with Jake, (Y/n) knew most, if not all the people that had worked with Jake since they started dating.

There was no way to respond to his question without sounding rude and (Y/n) didn't want to give him the wrong impression and make him angry. So she settled for a weak smile and a shake of her head before she glanced towards the group, hoping to see Jake's dazzling smile that could always put her at ease and make her feel better. Couldn't Penny hand the drinks over to her and let (Y/n) disappear back to the saftey of Jake?

"Come on, a pretty thing like you should be enjoying a drink with some good company." The stranger had a sturdy grip when he reached across for her wrist and gripped her tight.

He tried to twist away from the bar but (Y/n) wasn't sure which direction he was trying to pull her in. Whether he wanted to take her to a table or find a corner of the bar to have a sultry dance like some of the other couples often did when they came here. Or maybe he had strange intentions and was about to drag her outside if he could.

Whatever he was trying to do didn't work. (Y/n) forced herself not to think about the multiple options that were clearly running through the man's head. She felt her breath snagging in her throat as she yanked her wrist out of his grip and turned back to the bar when a large circular tray clattered down in front of her.

The drinks had arrived.

One look at Penny told (Y/n) she had added it to the tab the boys had open and the wary look in Penny's eyes diminished when (Y/n) shook her head and took the tray. She didn't want to cause trouble and the last thing she wanted was for Jake to rush over here and kick the guy out. As long as he didn't pursue her, (Y/n) would be fine.

She spun on her heels and took the tray, doing her best not to spill any of the drinks or topple the bottles over.

She didn't hear what he shouted after her, all the noises blurred together, the music, the shouting and the people making out in public. Everything blended into static as her eyes turned into tunnel vision, making Jake the only thing she could see.

It felt like she didn't breathe at all as she scampered over towards the group towards the back. One of the beer bottles rattled when she set the tray down on a side table and Bob reached across quickly to take said drink before it spilled. He spared (Y/n) a concern glance until she forced herself to smile and twisted in Jake's direction.

He set his pool cue down on the table with a laugh of triumph when he shot the last ball and won the game. It was always the same, once he was on a winning streak there was no stopping him.

He rapped his hands down on the wooden edge of the table but he paused and stood up straight when a pair of arms suddenly clamped around his waist like iron bars caging him in. He didn't have to look to know who was suddenly attached to him like a monkey, he had her frame committed to memory and her every touch was processed in his mind.

He could feel (Y/n)'s head pressing between his shoulder blades and her warm breaths were fanning through his button up shirt.

He waited a few seconds but when (Y/n) didn't move, he slowly manoeuvred around in her tight embrace. His hand cupped the back of her neck and his thumb swiped up and down her skin while his fingers tangled in her hair and his other arm deadlocked around her waist. When she didn't lift her head or try and look up at him and instead kept her face buried in his tightly buttoned shirt, Jake's brows furrowed.

"Hey, you okay?"

His arms moved from her waist and he gently cupped her face in his hands, tilting her head up so he could actually see her face. He needed to know if she was upset, panicking or crying because if anyone had said or done anything, they would feel Jake's wrath.

"Darlin', talk to me."

"I'm fine… just dodged a weird guy, that's all." (Y/n) hated the worry lines dotted around his face and the concern pooling in his eyes, all because she was nervous that one guy had tried to make some sort of strange advance with her.

A quiet hum vibrated at the back of Jake's throat and he lifted his head to look around behind (Y/n) as if he could magically scout out the person she was talking about. Since he couldn't see anyone watching (Y/n) or trying to walk over towards her, he figured the guy had taken the hint and disappeared. That was good, but if he came back Jake would have no problem telling him (Y/n) wasn't interested.

The concern slowly melted from Jake's face like snow fading on the grass and (Y/n) felt herself calming down immensely when he smiled and kissed her temple. His eyes locked with hers for a few seconds before he dipped down and stole a sweet kiss from her lips.

"Ah, you got a round in." Phoenix squeezed (Y/n)'s shoulder as she passed her and reached out for a drink that Bob handed over since he was closest to the drinks tray as if he were guarding it.

Jake twisted his head to the right when he heard Bradley mutter "My turn," and take one of the cue's off the wrack near the back doors that were partially open to let in the cool night breeze. His lips curved into a widespread smirk because it was clear Bradley was waiting for Jake to play a round against him. It was the way, the winner stayed on and got challenged by a newcomer and Jake did just win a game.

When he pushed away from the table, Jake pulled (Y/n) along with him just a little too quickly, causing her to stumble into his chest. Not that he minded with the catfish grin he flashed down at her. But he set his drink down on the window ledge and tossed his head back when someone flicked his favourite song on the jukebox.

"Ah, I love this one."

(Y/n) paused, tipping her head back to look up at Jake with a somewhat bewildered expression. She wondered what was rattling through his head until he handed his cue to Bob and curved both arms around her waist. "Dance with me." He murmured in her ear.

It didn't matter that there wasn't exactly a dance floor here in the Hard Deck, nor that not many people were dancing to the song. There were a few people swaying or bopping along, but Jake didn't care. All he cared about was the fact that this was his song and he had his girl in his arms.

"Here?" (Y/n) tilted her head to one side while her fingers focused on messing with the buttons on his starched shirt. She messed with the buttons while she felt his thumbs trace up and down her hips.

It didn't matter to Jake that they weren't really going to be dancing, at least not properly. He didn't care that no one else was dancing and he wasn't bothered if the Dagger squad watched. He just wanted to move to the beat with the girl in his arms.

"Yep."

"I don't dance." (Y/n) murmured, even as she looped her arms around his neck and allowed him to lean her back and sway them along to the beat.

“You do when you’re with me.” He whispered the words against the shell of her ear, getting quieter and lowering his tone with each word until (Y/n) could hardly hear him. She could feel his breaths fanning against her ear and it was making her feel hot to the touch, making her skin flush from the contact.

He pulled her closer to him by her hips and rose a brow, but his smile widened when (Y/n) leaned her cheek on his chest and let him twist them round and step from left to right. They were more swaying than actually dancing, and there wasn't room enough to move around and try doing any fancy steps or spins or twists. But this was better.

She loved the way that as their bodies swayed, Jake's head was bopping along in its own rhythm and his gelled hair fell out of sync in the process.

The way he kept murmuring the lyrics under his breath made (Y/n) smile but the way he glided one hand up and down her waist sent her heart racing even faster in her chest. Tipping her head back, (Y/n) rested her cheek on his shoulder, smiling when she felt him leaning his head against hers.

When the song came to an end, (Y/n) pushed up on her tiptoes and stole a sweet kiss from Jake's lips that left him straining his head towards her, yearning for more.

"Rooster's waiting." (Y/n) wasn't sure if her voice was loud enough for Jake to hear, but she couldn't raise it above a whisper when her voice was so close to giving out on her.

Jake pressed a lasting kiss to (Y/n)'s forehead before he took the cue back and spun on his heels to face the pool table.

A soft grin spread across (Y/n)'s lips as she took a seat out the way and focused on watching the boys and drinking her drink. Her eyes followed Jake and she couldn't help but roll her eyes every time he came to stand in front of her to take a shot. He purposely arched his back out and wiggled his hips in her direction, giving her a perfect view of his behind. And one look over his shoulder with his tongue poking between his teeth had (Y/n)'s adrenaline going haywire.

The next time he did it, (Y/n) leaned forward and hit her hand against his backside, causing Jake to lurch forward and mess up the shot. Which also gave Bradley an advantage to maybe get a few shots in and possibly win himself his first victory against Jake.

She grinned cheekily when Jake cast a joking glare over his shoulder in her direction and she pushed up from her seat to move over to him. Her hands settled on his shoulders and her chest pressed up into his back so she could attach her lips to the side of his neck.

"I'm gonna go to the toilet." When his head turned in her direction, he nodded before (Y/n) captured him in a kiss and pulled away from him. Letting him get back to the game he was inevitably going to win anyway.

She could feel his eyes on her as she walked away, merging through the sea of people until she was back near the bar.

Running her fingers through her hair, (Y/n) advanced past the bar towards the toilets at the other end. She could still hear the laughter coming from the Dagger squad, even if she couldn't make out the jokes being tossed around from this distance.

She tried to keep herself small and weaved through the small gaps she could see between the mix of people everywhere. The one thing she didn't like about the Hard Deck was how popular it was. It didn't matter what night they came here, it was always packed and there was almost always no personal space and a long queue for the toilets.

She was close to the toilets when a calloused, rough hand circled around her wrist with a bruising grip and pulled on her arm until she stumbled.

It was the man from earlier.

"Let go." (Y/n) tried not to raise her voice or cause a scene when she pulled her arm back towards her chest. But it only made her wrist burn in his tight grip and her feet fumbled beneath her when the man tugged on her until there was almost no space between them and he was grinning down at her through a shark-tooth smile that looked deadly.

"I found ya." His voice was more threatening than he seemed to imply and his words made (Y/n)'s stomach drop. She cast her eyes around the bar but she couldn't find the group of aviators she knew. They were still towards the back at the pool table and no one had ventured any closer towards (Y/n)'s line of sight.

"Get off-"

"Come on sexy, come have a drink with me." It was clear he was telling her rather than asking her; she didn't have a choice in the matter.

Did this work on the other girls he tried to pick up? Had he even tried to pick up other girls before, or was he just deciding tonight was the night and he was going to grab anyone he could and force them to be around him?

"I don't want to." (Y/n) could barely speak, she could feel her chest tightening and her breaths were becoming shallow the more he grappled to hold her close and keep her from running away. The way he grinned down at her had her shuddering and trying to back away, but she ended up backing into a wall which only enlightened the stranger and made him move even closer.

His chest pressed down against hers, pinning her between him and the wall and his hand let go of her wrist in favour of holding her hip instead.

"Yes you do."

Everything started to blur. She could barely see his face, couldn't hear what was passing through his drunken lips and no one around them seemed to realise she didn't want to be there. No one helped when she bashed her arms around at him, frantically trying to leave without any coordination in her movements.

When his hand gripped her jaw and his fingers pinched bruisingly into her cheeks, (Y/n) snapped her eyes closed and tried again to force her arms out in front of her. She tremored back against the wall and leaned her head to the side, but she couldn't try and slide down when he gripped her jaw tighter and pinned his knee between her legs.

She couldn't breathe, couldn't move, her brain was starting to shut down, she was going to faint soon.

"Oi! Get the Hell off her!"

Just as quickly as he was grabbing at her, he was suddenly wrenched away from her.

(Y/n) snapped her eyes open, her arms still bound around her chest as she gasped for air when her head started to swim. Her gaze locked onto the stranger whose eyes widened when a hand deadlocked around the back of his neck and another grabbed his bicep. As swift as anything, he was yanked backwards until his legs were swept from beneath him and he was forced to lean against the person dragging him back.

"Mind explaining why you had my girl pinned against the wall? Hm?"

Anger seethed through Jake's voice and venom was raging as pure as silver in his eyes that couldn't stop differing between the stranger and (Y/n).

He didn't like the way (Y/n) was now trembling against the wall and still had her arms cocooned to her chest like she was expecting another unwanted advance. He could see the fright pooling in her eyes and her shallow, rapid breaths made his body shake with aggression.

Who the Hell did this man think he was? What had he been doing, pinning her to the wall like that? In a bar full of people, did he really think that nobody would notice- that Jake wouldn't notice?

"Hey, chill out-"

"Not likely after what I've just witnessed." Jake had the sudden urge to lunge forward and smash this man's face into the wall he had just tried pushing (Y/n) into.

He could feel his body rattling with the desire to push him down, to throw punch after punch into him and make him regret setting his eyes on (Y/n) in the first place. But he could feel the rest of his squad gathering around. He could see Bradley giving him a certain look, a look of worry that told him not to make a bigger scene. He could see Coyote, debating whether or not it would be worth Jake teaching this guy a lesson because they could all see he was in the same uniform as them.

If Jake attacked him, he could get reprimanded for it. If they ever had to work with this guy, beating him up would make that a whole lot harder.

When his eyes glanced to the left and he noticed Bob approach (Y/n), the anger in him started to fade out and be replaced with a mixture of love and sympathy. He watched Bob gingerly take (Y/n)'s hand and steer her a few steps away from the hallway that led to the toilets, reeling her towards him so she was also away from the scene.

"Get the fuck out."

Jake dug his hand so tightly into the back of the man's neck that his nails started to pierce through his skin. His other hand moved from his arm up to clench around his shoulder and he twisted him to the right. There was no way Jake was going to walk him past (Y/n) and through that crowd to throw him out the front door. He could go stumbling out the side doors that led onto the beach.

Bradley and Coyote followed at a close distance and graciously opened the door so Jake could push him over the threshold and watch him scramble to his hands and knees. He relished in the way the stranger landed on the wooden slope rather than on the sand and it clearly sent a shock through his system and grated on his palms and bruised his knees.

The man twisted once he was onto unsteady feet, giving away how drunk he was, and he glared over his shoulder at them. He seemed to debate whether it was worth trying to get back inside the bar. But once Jake took three steps towards him and the guys grabbed him by the shoulders to stop him, the stranger thought better of it.

He turned away from them and stumbled onto the sand, advancing over on the beach in an unsteady manner, uncertain where he was going.

Once he was definitely out of sight and certain not to come back into the bar, Jake spun on his heels and made a beeline back through the crowds who were starting to mutter and chatter amongst themselves.

The music had been turned back on, Penny was serving drinks again and people were beginning to disperse back around the crowded bar instead of lingering near the toilets where the action happened.

When Jake was within her sights again, another round of trembling set in and (Y/n) pulled away from Bob's comforting presence and stumbled ahead until she was in Jake's arms. She felt his arm deadlock around her waist like an iron bar, unwilling to let her stand anywhere but right here, glued up against his chest. His other arm wound around her shoulders and when she felt his hand slide beneath her hair and cup the back of her neck, (Y/n) all but crumbled.

Her arms looped around his neck and her chest merged against his, feeling each harsh, thundering breath that Jake took to try and regulate his system.

She tipped her head down to bury her face in his shoulder, not wanting to open her eyes and see the worried, sympathising glances they were no doubt receiving from the friends gathered around them.

(Y/n) couldn't help the tears that started to soak into Jake's shoulder and she knew he felt them because he turned his head to the right and merged his lips with the side of her head.

She felt him sway them from side to side before he took a few steps to the side, pulling her along with him so they were near the wall and out the way of everyone else.

"Are you okay, he didn't hurt you did he?" He murmured against her temple while his fingers pressed deeper into the back of her neck and his other hand began gliding up and down her waist. He dreaded the answer being no because he wouldn't know what to do with himself. Jake wouldn't know whether to take (Y/n) home or turn around and hurry after the idiot and bury his face in the sand.

"Yeah, he just- he- I don't know. He didn't take no for an answer."

Her words both calmed Jake down and lit him up at the same time. How could that guy work with him? How could someone like that be in the same job role as them and work as one of them if he was so rude and aggressive once they were technically out of uniform?

He didn't deserve to wear the uniform or work with them if he treated people like that. Especially (Y/n).

"Well he ain't getting back in here anytime soon. Don't worry, Darlin' no one's getting past me." His lips smothered (Y/n)'s temple and when she finally lifted her head from his shoulder to look up at him, he curved his hand round from her neck to cup her cheek.

A soft 'thank you' murmured past (Y/n)'s lips and she leaned her cheek into his palm, relishing in his touch. He wouldn't let anyone else get close enough to do that again and if they tried, Jake would have no problem chucking them out. She was his girl, and he wouldn't have anyone upsetting her or trying to pin her to the wall like that.

"Come on, let's go home."

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [35] - Confessions

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: A nightclub can be a good place for confessions.

Word Count: 2400

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: Violence, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship, mentions of sex. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

You knew Bucky was trying to stay out of your way, you just knew.

Since you had first gotten married, he had never spent the night outside until tonight. When you woke up, the spot next to you was empty, so you huffed out a breath and went to the bathroom to take a shower. After that, you made your way downstairs to feed Alpine but the noise by the door made you turn your head.

Bucky hadn’t seen you just yet -he probably thought you were still asleep- and he made his way upstairs while you tilted your head, crossing your arms but keeping completely quiet in the kitchen. Even if you wanted to go upstairs after him, he didn’t take long, probably just changed his clothes and came back downstairs, stopping in his tracks when he saw you.

“Hey,” you said and he offered you a small smile.

“Hey,” he said, already making his way to the door with you following suit. “I have a meeting, I’ll see you tonight at the—”

“Bucky,” you said, your heartbeat speeding up and he froze by the door, then cleared his throat and turned to you.

“Hm?”

“Can we talk?”

“No.”

You pulled your brows together. “What? The fuck does that mean, no?”

He bit inside his cheek, averting his gaze from you.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he said. “You heard what I said, so—”

“So what, we just don’t talk about it?”

Bucky paused for a moment, then nodded his head.

“Yeah,” he said. “That sounds like a good plan.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

“Charm, I have this meeting—”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“It doesn’t change anything, okay?” he said. “What was I supposed to say? I was an ass to you because I took all my anger at my father and projected it onto you?”

“George never said anything to me,” you mused. “Neither did my father.”

“I doubt he mentioned it to him,” he said. “I mean…at least not until you came back from college.”

“But before that, only to you?”

Bucky pursed his lips together, still unable to look you in the eye and nodded.

“That was still an asshole move,” you pointed out and he sucked in a breath through his teeth, then nodded his head again.

“Yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck before his eyes found yours. “I’m sorry Charm. I really am, I was a dick. I never should’ve—that whole bullshit was between my father and me, you didn’t deserve to be caught in the crossfire. I don’t know if you’ll ever forgive me for it, but I’ll try to…make it up to you. I’ll make sure you get that crown.”

You crossed your arms, pursing your lips and Bucky swallowed thickly, then cleared his throat.

“I’m just gonna—” he motioned at the door. “Uh, see you tonight at the club.”

With that, he walked out of the apartment and you leaned your back to the wall with a groan, pressing your palms on your eyes.

 “The club,” you muttered to yourself. “Right. Great.”

                                               *

The whole reason why you were going to the club was because of Rhett. He had mentioned wanting to go out and Clint’s brand-new club sounded perfect for the occasion, and you figured once everyone drank a little, making the deal would be much easier.

“Please tell me it’s a good club,” Rhett said as you both got your coffees and sat down to your table. The café you had picked was right across your father’s skyscraper, your surname shining against it and you heaved a sigh, then leaned back.

“One simple listener would think you don’t trust me, Rhett.”

“I flew here because I trust you,” Rhett reminded you. “Your taste in clubs however…”

“We met at a club, dumbass.”

“I’m still not convinced it was a club of your choosing, but your friends’,” Rhett pointed out, making you scrunch up your nose at him, then lightly kicked his shoe.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“What does the rest of Chicago think about you doing business with New York?”

Rhett heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his curls, his rings catching your attention for a moment.

“They don’t necessarily love the idea.”

“None of them?”

“Most of them,” Rhett said. “My father thinks it’s a terrible idea.”

“Ah.”

“Caleb—you met Caleb, he also thinks it’s a bad idea.”

“Caleb is a dick.”

“And Alice and her family as well,” he said and scoffed. “But that one has more to do with you than the business.”

“Did you tell her I’m married to Bucky?”

He hummed. “She knows,” he said. “Still thinks…”

“That you and I are going to sleep together?”

Rhett shot you a small grin. “Yep.”

“I’m not the cheating type.”

“Never thought otherwise,” he said. “One does wonder though…”

You sipped your coffee. “Wonder what?”

“If we broke up for no reason.”

You lowered your coffee cup to give him a reprimanding look.

“There was a reason,” you said. “Business.”

“You don’t think we could’ve made it work?”

“Nope,” you said. “I’m not the type to play the housewife, you know that.”

“I never asked you to do that.”

“But that’s how Chicago works,” you said with a laugh. “And I would never be a mistress either so…”

He opened his mouth to retort but before he could, someone cleared their throat behind you, making both you and Rhett turn your heads and you rolled your eyes when you saw Ian.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you asked and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I just left your father in his office,” he said. “You’re not gonna go and say hi?”

“Nope, I’m busy with my guest,” you said and motioned between them. “Ian, Rhett. Rhett, this is Ian, my cousin.”

“And her father’s heir,” Ian corrected you, extending his hand and Rhett raised his brows, eyeing his hand before looking up at him with a quizzical glare. You bit back your smile and nodded at Ryan by the door before turning to Ian who lowered his hand.

“Why is an heir who’s not even a firstborn talking to me?” Rhett asked you, completely ignoring Ian and you shrugged, smirking.

“No idea. Ian?”

“I speak for my uncle.”

“I’m not talking to your uncle either, buddy,” Rhett said with a snort. “We’re in the middle of a conversation and you’re interrupting us.”

A look of surprise crossed Ian’s features before he threw his shoulders back.

“Mr. Davis, if we’re going to do business, it is important that you respect me, if my uncle hears—”

“Oh we seem to have some miscommunication here,” Rhett said. “I’m not doing business with you, or your uncle. Go tell your uncle the only person who I’ll speak to in terms of business is his daughter, and that I don’t appreciate being put in a situation where I have to talk to a second-choice heir who doesn’t even deserve a title that moves through family.”

You pursed your lips together to hold back your laughter as Ian gritted his teeth.

“I’m his nephew.”

“Not his firstborn,” Rhett stated. “Not even his spare. Back in Chicago heirs have to prove their worth, and nothing I heard about you is worth anything, Ian. So why don’t you go back to your kids table and leave the grownups to have actual conversation about business? Because unlike you, your cousin here knows what she’s talking about.”

Ian looked like he was considering saying something and Rhett tilted his head, smirking as if daring him. Ian lingered there for a moment before throwing you a glare, then scoffed.

“We’ll be in touch,” he said and stormed out of the café while you let out a giggle.

“Aw,” you mocked him. “I think you hurt your feelings.”

“Someone had to, you guys are being too soft on heirs here,” Rhett pointed out, making you laugh. “Anyway, we were saying?”

                                                 *

Clint really did have a good taste in clubs.

A couple of years earlier, you would be dancing on the dancefloor and drinking to your heart’s desire. Your father’s notorious name always worked in your favor in the city, and clubs weren’t an exception to that. With a wave of your hand, your bodyguards, -or Bucky’s, Steve’s or Sam’s- would be dragging anyone who bothered you or Becca outside, but now that you came to the clubs only to make deals, you didn’t dance or drink too much.

Rhett seemed to be in a good mood along with everyone else as he laughed at something Steve said, then sipped his whiskey while Bucky had his arm thrown over the back of the sofa you both were sitting on, and as much as you wanted to keep your conversation from earlier going, you knew you couldn’t in front of Rhett.

“So yeah he turns to me and says, ‘Chicago will not like this’ and I’m like, ‘Motherfucker I am Chicago!’” Rhett said, letting out a laugh. “Apparently this guy he was working with, he didn’t even tell him my name, just sent him there.”

“No way.”

“Oh yeah,” he said. “Which wasn’t even the first time someone within my father’s ranks tried to kill me.”

“Seriously?”

“Oh yeah,” he said. “Even family, once.”

“How did you get out of that?”

Rhett smiled and nodded in your direction. “You’re looking at my guardian angel there.”

Bucky raised his brows. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s a long story,” you said. “And I barely did anything.”

“No no, she had the opportunity to actually cross me after she dumped me,” Rhett said. “But she didn’t.”

“Yeah well…” you said, leaning your head to Bucky’s shoulder. “I just don’t like traitors.”

“No, loyalty is—” Rhett motioned at you. “Her loyalty is something else. So you might be the luckiest man I’ve ever met, Barnes.”

You let out a laugh while Sam tilted his head and Steve stole a look at Bucky whose jaw clenched.

“Oh he knows,” you said, squeezing Bucky’s arm. “I remind him in case he forgets.”

Bucky hummed, pressing a kiss on top of your head, nuzzling into your hair and making your heart skip a happy beat even if you knew it was for show.

“And you don’t have to look so tense man,” Rhett said with a grin. “She rejected me earlier, so…”

Your eyes widened as you looked from him to Bucky whose glare turned sharp.

“I have no problem starting a war between Chicago and New York, Rhett,” he said. “Careful now.”

Rhett scoffed a laugh. “Or what?”

“Alright, before anyone says anything they might regret,” you stopped Bucky before he could retort and stood up, tugging Bucky by the hand. “Buck, a word?”

Bucky looked like he would say no, but you led him out of the VIP room to the nearest bathroom, nodding at the girls inside.

“Out,” you said and they scurried out of the bathroom before you slammed the door behind you and turned to Bucky.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Trying really hard not to shoot your ex,” Bucky retorted. “How about you?”

“Bucky…” you said, running a hand over your face. “We are not starting a war between Chicago and New York just because you’re feeling a bit territorial—”

“A bit territorial?” he repeated. “A bit territorial? Charm, the whole reason why that asshole can still talk is because you told me not to shoot him, but if he keeps pushing his luck—”

“That’s a joke!”

“I told you though, didn’t I?” he insisted. “I told you he’s here to…fucking steal you away.”

“The fuck am I, a loaf of bread?” you snapped at him. “This is not Les Mis, no one is stealing me away, do you hear yourself?”

“Do you?” he asked. “What did he mean, you rejecting him earlier?”

You looked up at the ceiling, reminding yourself to be calm.

“He was talking about when we used to date,” you said. “And I said we couldn’t have made it work anyway, that’s it. That’s what he means.”

“But he still hopes for it.”

“We’re married, Buck,” you reminded him, “It may be because of the business, but I’m sure you remember our deal—”

“Yeah, for you maybe.”

You pulled your brows together. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Bucky.”

“It’s business for you, Charm,” Bucky spat. “Which is fine, but don’t stand there and assume that it’s the same for me, okay? You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Your frown deepened.

“You married me for business,” you said. “So that I could get to the top, so that Ian wouldn’t break the truce, so that—”

“That’s what you think, huh?” Bucky asked, a dry laugh climbing up his throat and your heartbeat sped up as you stared at him.

“Then why?” you asked back and Bucky licked his lips.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Bucky I’ve had it up here playing this fucked up game with you,” you said, your voice low. “What, you’re pretending to be jealous of Rhett—”

“Pretending?”

“Yeah and you’re bluffing to start a war over some pissing contest—”

“I’m not bluffing.”

“You’ve been avoiding me since we left the therapist’s office—”

“Charm.”

“And I want us to talk but you keep running away from whatever nonsense—”

“I’m in love with you.”

The simple sentence managed to make you stop talking, your eyes snapping up to his as you gawked at him, your mouth half open.

“I married you because I’m in love with you,” he said. “I’m willing to start a war with Chicago, with New York, with your own father, because I’m in love with you.”

Bucky loved you.

He was in love with you.

The happy disbelief pinned you to your spot while the music echoed in the bathroom, and he let out a dry laugh.

“There,” he said. “Now you can reject me and we can just—”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence when you snapped out of the haze and turned around to lock the door, then made your way to him to pull him into a kiss, a pleasant warmth spreading from your chest to your whole body. He wrapped his arm around your waist to pull you closer, and you let out a giggle when he pulled back a little to look at you.

“You’re…you’re not rejecting me?”

“Bucky,” you said, grinning wide. “You can be such an idiot sometimes.”

With that, you stood on your tiptoes to kiss him again, a squeal leaving your lips as he lifted you and carried you to the bathroom vanity.

Chapter 36

[cherienymphe]

Teenage Dirtbag XV

JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, mentions of violence (+ gun violence), gun kink, dacryphilia, attempted murder, blood, semi public sex,  jealousy, manipulation, infidelity, underage drinking, drug use, canon ages, kook!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ series masterlist

summary: You’re charmingly spoiled. You’re too kind for your own good. You’re the princess of Figure 8 …and you’re way out of JJ Maybank’s league, but when he realizes that Rafe Cameron’s pride and joy is actually a bruised and battered damsel, he’s determined to save you.

Your rescue just comes with a price.

⭑

“Mother, please…”

Your parents and Rafe found your exasperation amusing, your back vibrating from the feel of his soft chuckle as you leaned against him. The blond wrapped his arms around you as your mother quietly pleaded for ‘just one more’. Your father wasn’t on your side on today of all days, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“You know how she gets,” he told you. “Let her have this.”

“It’s just Midsummers,” you said to them. “We do this every year.”

You tried not to let your unenthusiastic thoughts slip through too much, but where there was once a time you loved Midsummers, you mostly just wanted to get the night over with now. It still brought you joy—this you wouldn’t deny—but it wasn’t the same as it used to be. You used to look forward to it, and while you enjoyed getting dolled up and seeing your parents’ friends as they asked about you, you didn’t enjoy smiling in everyone’s faces and gushing over how happy you were with Rafe.

You looked forward to the food and drinks and floating around in a beautiful dress, but you didn’t look forward to Rafe’s hand on your waist all night. You didn’t look forward to laughing along as countless people wondered when Rafe planned on popping the question. You didn’t look forward to posing for countless pictures.

…as you were currently doing.

“Mother,” you sighed.

“You should be used to this by now,” she softly laughed. “…and grateful because I’m going to be far worse than you could ever imagine on your wedding day.”

Your stomach twisted at that, and you swallowed down bile just as Rafe tightened his arms around you.

“Stop being such a brat and just let your mom take the picture.”

His voice was quiet as his lips grazed your ear, and you kept a smile on your face as he straightened again. The older woman made a noise of approval, and you felt no relief when she was finally done. You glanced at Rafe just as your mother turned to your father to discuss the best ones, face even as your boyfriend adjusted your necklace.

He’d just bought it.

“Just stop smiling,” he murmured. “You look like you’re being tortured.”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

Rafe paused, staring you down for a moment before a small smirk made its way onto his lips. Dropping one arm, the other hand moved towards your face, touching your red lips.

“Cute…”

“We’ll meet you both there,” your father said over his shoulder as he walked your mother to his car. “…and please don’t forget to set the alarm. I think someone broke into our pool house.”

His words made your heart drop, and you whipped your head around to stare at the older man with wide eyes.

“What?” you said, voice uneven.

Your father made a gesture with his hand like he was scolding himself for forgetting to tell you that.

“Yeah, I went in there the other day looking for my golf clubs, and it just looked…off. Lived in,” he said, opening the car door. “I might install a camera or two, I don’t know.”

They bid you both goodbye, none the wiser to the internal turmoil he’d just caused, and you swallowed just as Rafe started to pull you back inside. You heard him scoff.

“Probably some Pogue looking to mooch,” he snidely commented, making his way to your father’s bar. “Typical.”

Clearing your throat, you grabbed your purse.

“It’s probably nothing,” you found yourself murmuring. “Besides, it’s a pool house, not exactly The Hilton.”

“Babe, your fucking basement would be like The Ritz to those people,” Rafe said with a shake of his head as he downed a quick drink. “You think too highly of them and their lack of standards.”

You really didn’t want Rafe of all people to preach to you about standards, and you huffed.

“Do you plan on driving there drunk or…?”

Rafe was in a lighter mood today, and so that actually brought a chuckle out of him. Pouring one more drink out of your father’s bottle, he made his way to you. When he kissed you, you could taste the alcohol on his lips, and you watched him pull away to empty the glass.

“I need something in my system if I’m going to be around my family and their friends all night. Especially Rose’s book club women,” he said with a shudder, guiding you out after setting the alarm.

You were almost to his truck when he stopped you, forcing you to face him. You felt nervous as you looked at the blond because you had no idea what he was thinking nor what was about to come out of his mouth. You rested your hands on his arms as he pulled you closer, his own hands comfortable at the small of your back. His blue gaze flitted between your own.

“Try to lose the pout, alright?” he said to you. “Your knee is much better, your nose is practically like new, and you look good enough to eat.”

Rafe leaned in, gently pressing his lips to your cheek.

“Things could always be worse,” was what he said to you when he pulled away, a hint of a threat in his voice as he stared into your eyes.

Yes, you supposed that was true, and you allowed him to walk you to the passenger door.

You didn’t know what Ward had said to him exactly, but you couldn’t ignore the restraint Rafe had practiced for weeks, now. You didn’t know if Ward had legitimately found something to scare him with or if it was a conversation that went more along the lines of ‘at least wait for her to fully recover’. You realized that your thoughts were bordering along something much worse than praising a fish for swimming, but it was relieving to not have to deal with Rafe’s violence and especially for this length of time.

The reprieve was almost enough to make you feel bad for seeing JJ behind his back.

Almost.

“I almost didn’t recognize you.”

The dark-haired girl turned to look at you, her confusion dying down as she placed the face to the voice. Kie weighed your words over in her mind, head slightly tilting from side to side before a small smile adorned her face.

“I know that’s meant as a compliment, so I’ll take it as one,” she said, taking her drink from the bartender. “I look like an uppity Kook princess…no offense.”

You didn’t take any offense to it.

“I know you wouldn’t dare be caught dead here willingly,” you commented, and Kie rolled her eyes over to her mom.

The woman was talking to your mom, a third woman with them that you didn’t recognize.

“It’s amazing how you know me so much better than my own mom,” she snidely replied, taking a sip of her punch. “She keeps waiting for me to ‘grow up’ as she puts it…”

You felt her eyes on you as the bartender finally gave you your own drink. You discreetly shook your head when he asked if you wanted anything else in it, the man no doubt familiar with how underage attendants got their way around here. At Kie’s surprised look, you spoke.

“I still take painkillers, so…”

The tan girl nodded at that, and a look passed over her features that looked a lot like concern.

“Sarah told me that your leg is much better.”

“It is, yeah,” you confirmed. “I can walk without a splint for the most part, but Rafe and my parents still want me to stay off of it if I can.”

She nodded, a soft ‘that’s good’ reaching your ears. Kie looked like she wanted to say more, and despite you two being friendly—with her eventually coming around to you—it was very clear in this moment that you were not friends. You blamed Rafe for that and was just about to go find him when she spoke again.

“It’s not my place…it’s really JJ’s to tell you the truth, but… He was really out of line that day in the hospital.”

Her words took you by surprise, her expression even more so because she looked genuinely embarrassed by what had occurred.

“Yeah, Rafe’s an asshole, and sure, sometimes he’s an asshole to you, and we’re probably the only ones who ever see that, but… JJ accusing him of that was really gross and uncalled for,” she continued.

You looked down at her words, unable to defend JJ in the way you wanted. Everyone thought he was just being a dick who hated Rafe, but in actuality he was right, and you took a sip of your drink.

“His feelings aren’t any excuse to accuse someone of something like that…”

You looked at her again at her words, expression inquiring.

“You know, about Rafe…and you,” she eventually added, albeit reluctantly.

She shrugged at the look on your face, her own expression softer than what you were used to.

“I think he likes you,” she said, shocking you. “Or…at the very least you surprised him. You’re just not what he expected.”

You struggled to respond to that, taking another sip.

“What makes you say that?” you wondered with a scoff.

“He brings you up sometimes. Just to me,” she added at the look on your face. “Nothing crazy. I just think he worries about you dating Rafe, and I keep telling him you’re with that guy for a reason.”

You swallowed, unsure of how to feel about JJ talking to Kie about you.

“There’s probably a whole other side to Rafe the rest of us will just never see…”

You thought to yourself if she only knew.

“That’s flattering,” you slowly said, attempting to steady your heart. “I didn’t even think JJ cared enough about me to talk about me to anyone. Especially to you.”

Sarah was always vocal about how tight-knit John B.’s friend group was before she came along. There’d been a few days where you absentmindedly listened to her talk about how she’d felt like she was intruding at first, only feeling welcomed by all after some time. You especially remembered a few comments on how protective Kie was over her boys, doubly so towards Sarah considering their history.

“I was surprised too,” the other girl agreed. “…but I guess he just wanted to talk to a girl about it.”

You only nodded at that, and you could feel her gaze on you, although it was hard to read when you looked at her.

“You know he’s here tonight…”

Even though your face didn’t move, your heart did skip a beat in your chest, and you sharply inhaled. You didn’t need her to confirm who she was talking about, but she did anyway, and you took another sip of your drink.

“He’s making some extra money,” she explained. “I didn’t get why he’d want to work Midsummers of all events, but…maybe now I do.”

Your gaze met hers at that, and before you could really study her expression, you were interrupted.

“You’re going to hang by the bar all night?” Rafe wondered, saddling up next to you as he flagged down the bartender.

He only just noticed Kie after a moment, throwing her a dismissive look before resting his blue eyes on you.

“Is she why I’ve had to entertain myself with Kelce and Topper despite coming with my beautiful girlfriend?”

You hated the way he talked about her like she wasn’t there, but before you could scold him on it, Kie made herself scarce with one last glance thrown your way. You forced it out of your mind, sighing at him.

“You three were discussing football. I figured that was your subtle way of excluding me…”

After being handed a drink he was just shy of being legal for, Rafe snaked his arm around your waist. He pressed his lips to yours, humming to himself.

“If I’d wanted you to go away, I would’ve said so,” he murmured into the kiss.

His lips made their way to your cheek, and that was the moment you took note of familiar blond hair over his shoulder. Just as Kie said, he was wearing a uniform, a serving tray in his hand, and you blinked. Was he really here just for you? It seemed like way too big of a risk to take, but you found yourself glad that he was.

You needed to tell him that he couldn’t sleep in the pool house for a while.

It was then that you heard Kelce call your boyfriend over, and you both turned to see the other guy waving him over. He and Topper and some of Rafe’s other friends were laughing down at someone’s phone, and Rafe squeezed your waist.

“Now I’m telling you to entertain yourself,” he chuckled. “I won’t be long.”

He left you to go and see what was so funny, and you tapped your finger against your glass a few times before stepping away. JJ’s blue gaze was already on you when you glanced over, and you looked back at Rafe one more time before stepping into the building. A few beats had passed before you heard footsteps mirroring yours.

Knowing this cursed place like the back of your hand, you were quick and discreet in slipping into a storage room. You swallowed down the rest of your drink as you slowly paced, telling yourself you were on a time crunch. It wasn’t too much longer before you had company, and you were quick to get your words out before JJ got the wrong idea.

“You can’t stay at the pool house tonight,” you told him, giving him pause. “Not for a while actually. Not until I can convince my father he doesn’t need to install cameras.”

You sighed.

“I might just tell him I’m the one who’s been in there.”

The blond nodded at that, and you watched him purse his lips.

“So…this isn’t what I thought it was going to be.”

You couldn’t hold back your smile at that, gently laughing to yourself.

“No, JJ,” you admonished. “Rafe is…right outside.”

You gestured towards the door.

“…and his friends will keep him occupied for a while sure, but definitely not long enough to…”

You trailed off, shrugging and dropping your arm. Your words made JJ’s eyebrows raise, and he gave you a look you were more than familiar with.

“That sounds like a challenge.”

You gave him a look.

“JJ…be serious…”

He slowly made his way to you, keeping his eyes on yours the entire time.

“I am,” he breathed, gaze finally dropping. “You look beautiful.”

Rafe had given you the same compliment, but it meant more coming from JJ’s lips, and your own lips parted. Your stomach always flipped when he said things like that to you, and you reminded yourself that you hadn’t met up with him for this. You said that, but the more you looked at him the more you thought how nice he looked in something akin to a suit.

JJ’s blond hair was just a tad neater, resembling Rafe’s almost, and you didn’t think you liked it. Too busy taking in his uncharacteristic appearance, you didn’t pay attention to how close he’d gotten until his hand was touching your necklace. It was a tennis one, the expensive piece of jewelry catching the light, and you focused in on JJ’s face just as he let out a low whistle.

“Rafe bought it,” you explained, noting how much it felt like a collar. “He insisted I wear it tonight.”

You glanced at the clock on the wall, telling yourself to leave, to tell JJ that you’d see him later. However, you couldn’t deny that you didn’t want to, hating that you were here with Rafe instead. You wanted to prolong your time with the other blond for as long as possible, and you knew that JJ was thinking the same thing by the way his hand rested on your cheek.

“JJ…”

Your voice was low as he moved closer.

“Rafe isn’t going to be distracted forever.”

He looked between your eyes at that, his teeth sinking into his lip. He seemed to be contemplating it for a few moments before dropping to his knees. Your heart thudded in your chest as he reached under your dress, dragging your underwear down, and you didn’t stop him as your stomach flipped. You didn’t miss the way he slipped them into his pocket as he stood, lips immediately finding yours.

You couldn’t resist rubbing your thighs together in anticipation, feeling heat settle in the pit of your stomach. JJ tasted the inside of your mouth, and you could tell he’d had a drink or two earlier. He took his time in kissing you, mouth slowly moving against yours, and somewhere along the way he seemed to remember where you were…what you were not supposed to be doing…and who you had to get back to.

Resting between JJ and the wall, you helped him undo his pants, hand immediately wrapping around his cock the moment it was free. He hissed against your lips, and you couldn’t hold back your smile, kissing him harder and stroking him. He groaned into the kiss when you squeezed him, and reminding yourself of Rafe, you pushed your lower half against his.

One of JJ’s hands slid behind your thigh before hooking your leg against his waist. He rested between your legs as his lips traveled down your neck, and with your underwear in his pocket, you could feel the tip of him poking at your bare skin, a shudder passing through you as you wrapped your arms around him.

Guiding the tip of him between your folds, JJ pushed himself through his fist a few times before sliding into you with one quick thrust. You threw your head back, gasping at the tight fight and thinking you liked it a little better when you weren’t as wet. The slight burn made you buck your hips, and JJ’s hands were tight on you as he started to thrust into you.

You couldn’t swallow down your moan, reaching out to press your hand against the wall as JJ fucked you. Wrapping your other arm around his shoulder and neck, you pressed your face against him, teeth sinking into the nice shirt he had on. His hands were guiding your hips to meet him thrust for thrust, his cock stretching you out. You grew wetter with every movement, and it wasn’t long before each thrust was smoother and easier than the last.

For a few moments, you forgot all about Rafe and Midsummers and the fact that you had to go back out there and smile on your boyfriend’s arm. There was even a faint thought that he might be looking for you that you pushed out of your mind. All you could focus on was the feeling of JJ inside of you, chasing both of your climaxes. You wanted to keep fucking him for hours, but you knew that wouldn’t be possible, now.

You glanced at the clock again when JJ left open mouthed kisses against your throat, groaning against your skin as you squeezed him. You kept pushing your hips forward to meet his thrusts, dripping around his cock, and pulling at his uniform. Your other hand reached between you, dipping under your dress and circling your bundle of nerves. Your toes curled at the feel, and when you came, you came hard.

You swallowed down your moan as you tightened around JJ, and when your climax triggered his own, he pressed his face into the crook of your neck. You clung to each other as you came together and getting it in your head that you needed to go, you dropped your leg. You were going to help JJ get redressed, but he deterred you with a quick kiss.

“Go, go,” he urged, ushering you out of the room, and you hurried to make sure your hair and dress were fine as you sped away from the room.

You were down the hall when you felt JJ dripping down your thighs, and with a start, you realized he still had your underwear. You were contemplating turning back when you heard your name, the sound getting closer and closer until Rafe finally rounded the corner. Your eyes were wide as they met his angry ones, and you didn’t get a word out before his hand tightened on your arm.

“Where the hell have you been?”

“The bathroom,” was your quick answer, blinking before adding to it. “…and then the kitchens. I was trying to find a ginger-ale. My stomach felt weird.”

“I’ve been looking for you forever,” he spat, pulling you in the opposite direction of the party. “Sarah and my dad are being especially irritating, right now.”

When Rafe pulled you into an empty room, your heart sank.

…because you knew what he wanted.

“Rafe…not here…”

Your words actually gave him pause, and your boyfriend looked at you like you’d lost your mind. One of his hands pressed to the very door you were leaning against, and you watched him tilt his head at you. His hair wasn’t so neat now—a sign that he’d been running his hands through it—and you swallowed at the way he looked between your eyes.

“We’ve never not fucked at Midsummers,” he told you. “It’s practically a tradition, now.”

He softly laughed to himself, finding that funny.

“Can’t we just go? Let’s just go home and shower and-.”

“I’m not ready to go,” he cut you off, eyeing you. “My sister has been annoying me, and my dad is making me want to snort four lines of coke, and instead, I choose to fuck my girlfriend.”

The determination on his face made your nerves spike, and you were all too aware in this moment of the feel of JJ’s cum drying on the inside of your thighs. You didn’t think Rafe would even notice such a thing in his haste to be inside of you, but you knew you didn’t have the capacity to not feel icky fucking Rafe after just doing so with JJ.

“…but for whatever reason, she’s fighting me on that.”

Now, he looked angrier than he did before, and you looked towards the ceiling.

“I thought we were past this…”

When you looked at him again, his face was much closer.

“I thought we were on the same page about the least you could do in this relationship.”

You looked down at that, chest clenching painfully at the memory. The silence between you was thick with tension, and when he slowly reached up to touch your face, you let your eyes close.

“Are you going to fuck me, or do I need to give you another nose job?”

At his soft words, you looked into his eyes. Rafe was entirely serious, and with a shaky sigh, you reached for his belt. He didn’t say a word as you unbuckled it, and you shuddered when he leaned in to kiss your cheek, inhaling at the feel of you slipping your hand into his pants. His hand reached up to the back of your neck as you stroked him, fingers finding that stupid necklace and tightening it around your throat.

“Fuck,” he cursed against your skin.

Rafe moved you towards an empty table, hurried in pushing you onto it, and he didn’t hesitate in covering your frame and guiding himself into you. He groaned at the smooth entry, kissing you again and pushing his hips against yours.

“So wet for me already?” he hummed into the kiss.

He reached under you to lift your hips a bit, holding you right where he wanted you as he thrust into you. So eager to fuck you, Rafe didn’t even notice your lack of underwear. Or at least not enough to comment on it if he did, too preoccupied with taking out his frustrations on your body. You held onto him and his arm as you squeezed your eyes shut, fighting to convince yourself that you weren’t as horrible as you felt.

It wasn’t even twenty minutes ago when JJ was inside of you, fucking you in some storage room and fighting to make you come before you had to get back to Rafe. Now, here you were, once again in an empty room but having sex with someone entirely different. You shuddered as you recalled Rafe’s words, knowing that it wasn’t your arousal for him but instead a combination from both you and JJ after the other blond had come inside of you.

The thought made you want to shy away from the man on top of you, but there was nowhere to go. The table shook beneath his rough thrusts, and Rafe seemed to forget that you were there as he pounded into you. You flinched and squirmed beneath your boyfriend from both the rough treatment and the overstimulation, feeling torn between wanting to come again and pushing Rafe away.

When he fisted his hand into the hair at the nape of your neck, pulling your head back, you knew that you were in for a long night.

Your chest was painfully tight as you stared at Rafe in horror. Your boyfriend looked nothing like the gentleman he pretended to be but instead like the monster he often was. Only this time, that violent gleam in his eyes wasn’t directed at you. It had set its sights on JJ.

“Rafe…come on, this is ridiculous, let’s just go,” you repeated for the umpteenth time.

It was only an hour ago that you were hanging onto him as he fucked you in some empty room, pent up and angry at both Sarah and Ward. Now—somehow—you’d found yourselves outside as his friends held JJ’s arms, your boyfriend gearing up to hit him again. It was unfair and disgusting and cruel.

“You’re being an asshole, and for what? Because he’s here?”

The party was still going on, and twenty minutes ago you’d thought you were leaving. Now, you were basically forced to watch Rafe hurt the guy you were sleeping with. He kept telling you to leave, that this wouldn’t take long and wouldn’t be much longer, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to abandon JJ so easily.

“Rafe!”

“Get in the damn truck,” he called over his shoulder.

He sounded exasperated with you, and his friends chuckled. You looked between them in disgust, most notably at Topper who clearly wasn’t enjoying this as much as the others but didn’t have the balls to actually say something. Disappointed in all of them, your eyes briefly met JJ’s, his practically pleading with you to just leave.

You huffed.

“Fuck this,” you spat, making your way back towards the building to find someone who worked here.

Your tone must have caught Rafe’s attention because he was quick to stop you, roughly grabbing you.

“Woah, woah, woah,” he chuckled, but it had an edge to it. “I thought I said to wait in the truck?”

He looked at you like you’d lost your mind.

“What, you’re-you were going to go tattle on me?”

“This is shitty, and I won’t stand by and let it happen,” you replied.

“Who gives a fuck? He’s a Pogue!”

“…and so that makes this okay? I want to go home, and you want to stand here beating on someone who can’t even fight back!”

Rafe looked between your eyes, and you hated the way he tilted his head.

“Why do you care so much about what happens to him?”

“You’re so stupid-! It could be anyone, Rafe,” you sneered. “This is childish and mean.”

Rafe stared you down for what felt like too long—too still—and your heart beat faster the longer it went on. Before you knew it, his hand had fisted into your hair, and he was dragging you over to his friends.

“See… This is why he’s always making googly eyes at you,” Rafe said, not sounding the least bit amused. “This is why he’s making comments and accusations about me and our relationship.”

Rafe maneuvered his arm around your neck, holding you close as he grinned at JJ.

“You’re too nice, baby. Too sympathetic,” he chuckled, gesturing to the other blond. “He’s got himself a little crush, I just know it.”

You attempted to move out of Rafe’s grip, but he wouldn’t budge. You hated the bruising that was already forming under JJ’s eyes and the blood on his lip too. You made a noise of protest when Rafe kissed you on the lips, sloppily and rough, before turning away.

“Hey, JJ,” your boyfriend softly said, tone mocking. “She’s just being nice…because that’s just who she is.”

“Rafe…”

“Don’t go getting any ideas.”

“You’re making a fool of yourself,” you spat at Rafe, knowing that he was doing so in more ways than one.

Rafe looked at you in mock outrage, shrugging.

“I’m just trying to help him out,” he told you. “It’s not my fault these Pogues always want what we have.”

“Rafe, stop this,” you hissed. “You’re being an asshole.”

The words had barely left your mouth when his hand roughly closed around your chin. You winced at the feel, and neither you nor Rafe missed the way JJ tried to break free. Rafe’s friends chuckled at the sight, but Rafe didn’t, merely staring at the other blond.

“Look at you,” he finally mused. “I don’t know whether I should feel flattered or offended that you feel so protective over my girlfriend.”

There wasn’t a hint of humor in his tone, and before you could quite marinate on that, you were harshly thrown to the ground. The mood seemed to shift at that, and you could tell that his friends hadn’t been expecting that. You didn’t know if Rafe was drunk or high or both, but he’d never been so public in his cavalier treatment of you.

“She’s my girlfriend, JJ, and I could do anything I want to her…”

You attempted to push yourself up when you felt the sole of his shoe on your knee…that knee.

“I could set her little healing journey back…”

You looked up at him with wide eyes, sure that he wouldn’t with so many witnesses, but also…not so sure. You glanced at JJ, but the other blond was staring at Rafe with wide eyes, and you couldn’t tell whether he was angry or scared. Probably both.

“I could rip her hair out right here…” he gestured to his friends. “…and do you think any of them would stop me?”

“Rafe,” Topper finally said, and your boyfriend’s gaze snapped to him.

“Would you?”

Topper just stared at him, but his silence spoke volumes, and you only attempted to stand again when your boyfriend finally moved his foot. He pointed around, his gaze resting on JJ again.

“None of them are going to do shit,” he said to him. “So, what makes you so special to think you have a say in how I treat my girlfriend?”

Your lips trembled as you finally stood to your feet.

“…because she was nice to you once? Because she doesn’t want me to kick your ass now?”

You looked between them, the faint sounds of the party reaching your ears.

“Truth be told, I should kick your face in for that stunt you pulled at the hospital,” your boyfriend sneered.

“Rafe, you’ve made your point!”

You hated this entire pissing contest he was doing, and at this point, you half expected Rafe to whip it out and mark his territory. He stared JJ down for what felt like too long, his friends equally uncomfortable now with the turn the night had taken. You could see it in his eyes that he wanted to slap you clear across the face—maybe even break your arm—all just to prove that he could do whatever he wanted to you, and there wasn’t a thing JJ could do about it.

Rafe, however, settled for harshly grabbing your face and spitting right into your mouth as you gasped.

Taken aback, you couldn’t hold in your coughing fit, forced to follow along as he roughly grabbed your arm.

“Like I said JJ. Anything I want,” he repeated.

Dragging you along, Rafe tossed his next words over his shoulder at his friends.

“That Pogue’s all yours.”

You felt riddled with disgust the whole way to his truck, humiliated and angry. You blinked back tears as you recalled the way his friends did nothing, didn’t even move a muscle as he threw you to the ground, and you didn’t know what you hated more—that or Topper’s cowardly attempt that he ultimately backed out of.

Once you were at his truck and away from prying eyes, the slap came harshly and swiftly.

It made your ears ring and your cheek sting, tears forming behind your eyes as Rafe leaned in. His nose grazed the burning cheek, and you could hear his labored breathing as his chest heaved against your arm. He didn’t say anything for a few minutes, and neither did you, just staring into the darkness as a few tears finally spilled over.

“That is the last time you defend that Pogue…especially around me,” he whispered. “Do you understand?”

You started to nod when his hand circled around your throat, making you sharply inhale.

“I want to hear you fucking say it.”

Pulling at his arm, you eventually gave up on that, forcing the word out.

“Yes,” you struggled to say.

Shoving you away from him, he opened the passenger door, telling you to get inside. Wiping your face, you did, settling in the seat with a newfound hatred for Midsummers.

[vivwritesfics]

Set The World On Fire

Chapter Fifteen

Lando Norris had been incredibly angry when they met. Incredibly angry, but sweet enough to help her. Turns out he just needed somebody to talk to, somebody to be there for him.

He was easy to fall for, and that put her in a world of danger

Warnings: Stalking

Mafia AU

1.4K

Warnings: Smut, p in v

Series Masterlist

A guy had never asked her to move in with him before. She hadn't spent much time imagining how it would go, but she had some sort of idea.

A guy getting down onto one knee and presenting her with a key. A guy asking her after a good bit of sex. Asking over dinner, asking as they just watched a movie. Simple things like that.

She didn't imagine it like this. Didn't imagine standing by the front door of her apartment, her boyfriend looking through the peephole with one arm wrapped around her shoulders. He held her against his chest as his other hand reached for his gun.

They were silent, waiting. All the time that Lando looked through the peephole she knew that the stalker was still there, was still watching them.

Tears ran down her cheeks. She gripped his white shirt, the shirt that he wore beneath his suit, and cried.

But then Lando let go of his gun and wrapped his other arm around her. "Baby," he whispered and kissed the top of her head. "It's okay. He's gone."

"He followed me from the shop, Lan," she whispered, head against his chest.

He kept his nose against the top of her head and breathed in. "I'm sorry, baby," he whispered, his own eyes falling closed. It was his fault. His fault that she was getting followed home. If he'd just left her alone that night at his club, she'd be safe.

"Move in with me," he said suddenly. "My house is safe. I've got a new security system set up. It's, uhm..." He squeezed her as he searched for the words.

She wiped her tears away from her cheeks. "Impenetrable?" She suggested as she looked up at that.

Lando scrunched his nose up as he looked down at her. "Yeah, that," he said and kissed her.

He stayed by the door while she packed a bag. His eyes were on the window, gun at the ready, or he was looking through the peephole.

Emerging from the bedroom, she walked over with her bag on her shoulder. "Is that everything you need?" He asked as he took the bag from her.

She looked around her apartment, lip pulled between her teeth. Breathing deep, she nodded. "I can move out of here when I'm not being stalked," she mumbled and took his hand.

Lando held her hand. He had his gun out as he led her down the halls. The entire time they were walking down the hall, she squeezed his hand tight. But Lando didn't much care. He squeezed her back the entire way to her car.

Throwing her bag into the back, Lando drove. The car was silent, and she looked around everywhere like a startled deer. "I've got you," he said quietly, hand coming to settle on her thigh. She clamped her legs together but it wasn't sexual. No, it was just to keep him there. The way his thumb moved was so soothing, but it did little to calm her.

She hardly recognised the area Lando was driving through. She may have lived there for her entire life, but she didn't know this area in the slightest. And then they came to the grand manor house, surrounded by high gates.

They drove up to the gates and Lando pulled his hand from between her thighs. He punched the number into the keypad and the gate swung open. Lando drove through.

God, he didn't think he'd be back here so soon. As he drove towards the house, towards the garage, he couldn't stop himself from wishing for just five more minutes in the save haven of her apartment. But it wasn't a safe haven anymore, was it?

Lando parked in the garage. Her car amongst his expensive and beautiful collection looked ridiculous, but she didn't notice it as Lando grabbed her bag from the back of the car, took her hand, and led her to the house.

The house. It was beautiful, but she couldn't take that in, either. Every little noise had her jumpy. With his arm around her, Lando took her straight through to his bedroom.

Lando's bedroom was not the bedroom of a man. It was the same bedroom that he'd had since he was a teenager, with posters of actresses and race cars all over his bedroom. It was so cute and somehow comforting. It was cute. It was Lando.

"Sorry," he said and pulled at the bottom of one of his race car posters, pulling it away from the wall. "I meant to take these down but everything got a bit..."

She grabbed one of his pillows and squeezed it against her chest. "Leave it," she mumbled as she touched his duvet. It needed a wash, not desperately, but she knew that the smell was going to comforting.

Lando stepped away from his posters. He sat beside her, pulled the pillow away from her chest and took her trembling hands. "You're okay, baby," he said, thumb moving over the back of her hand. "You're safe here. 'm not gonna let anything happen to you."

She looked to the shut door and back at Lando. And then she was on him, pushing him down onto his back as she climbed on top of him, straddling him. "Help me take my mind off of it?" She asked as she pulled her shirt over her head and threw it to the floor.

Lando's hands grabbed her hips and squeezed. "Are you sure, baby?" He asked as her hips slowly began moving.

Instead of answering, she leaned forward, hands on his chest as she kissed him. Lando kissed her back. He moved his hands from her hips, cradling her against him.

But then his hands travelled down. Down over her shoulders, down to her bra strap. He fiddled with it until it gave and let his hands travel further, down her back and into her trousers. His hands settled over her ass as she opened the buttons on his white shirt.

The minute she got her hands against her skin, she dragged her nails down his chest. A groan left his lips and she pulled away from him, sitting up straight. Lando sat up with her and she pushed his suit jacket and shirt from his shoulders.

"Wanna mark you up," she whispered as she leaned forward again, pressing her lips against his neck.

She had the leader of the Norris family beneath her as she sucked dark purple marks all over his neck and shoulders. Moans and gasps and whines left his lips as she worked him, hips moving.

Even as her hips moved, Lando popped the button on her trousers and pushed his hand beneath the fabric. "Fuck!" She gasped as he felt through her folds. But her lips quickly returned to the purple bruise on his shoulder.

"I got you, baby," he whispered and pushed her trousers down with her underwear. "Need you bad."

She pulled away from his shoulder and sat back, admiring her work. "You look so pretty," she whispered and ran her nails down his chest again.

It didn't take long before Lando was naked beneath her. She held him still as she sank down onto him. A sigh left her lips and she threw her head back, eyes shutting. "Fuuuuuck, I love you," she whispered and looked down at him.

"I love you," he replied and look her hands in his own.

Lando held her hands in his own as she rode him. It was was slow and sweet, every movement sending sparks up their spines. They didn't speak outside of their 'I love you's', moans and whines filling the bedroom.

Lando's bedroom.

No, their bedroom.

Lando touch her, his hand on her clit as he tried to ensure that she came before he did. She pitched forward, whines high pitched as Lando pushed her over the edge.

He came not long after her. As soon as she had finished she stilled, energy drained. But Lando held her, moved her body on top of her as he spilled inside of her.

He didn't pull out right away, kept her held against his chest, cock still inside of her. "'m gonna protect you," he whispered and kissed the top of her head. She looked up, slowly blinked and moved her lips towards her own.

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[theloveinc]

jo togame x reader - on possessiveness

(warning: she/her reader, pet names, alcohol, etc.)

-

Jo Togame has quite an odd way of showing possession over you.

He is, of course, always happy to fight with his fists when need be, but unlike some of his… friends, he doesn’t usually feel the need to use violence to show others that you belong to him.

In fact, if anyone asked you about it, you’d probably answer that you’d never even seen your boyfriend jealous—that even when you’re shaking your butt when you’re out with him in a skimpy little number, he’s cool as a cucumber, just like normal.

But that’s not entirely true, as there is a little something he pulls when he notices others paying attention to you the way only he ever should—

“Baby?”

Togame presses his hand against the warmth of your lower back, slow to let it creep down to the curve between your hip and ass as he approaches from behind. You’re leaning against the bar of the busy club, smiling sweetly at the bartender who’s currently adding extra cherries to only one of the two drinks you’ve ordered, now starting to sweat on the lacquered wood where they wait to be handed off.

You are a sight for sore eyes. In Togame’s mind, you always are, but there’s something about tonight especially that has you glowing and has seemingly everyone noticing. If he were anyone aside from your boyfriend, or he was two inches deeper in a nicer mood, it’s possible he wouldn’t be so … irked by the attention you’re receiving… but something about the way this stranger appears to be gunning for more than just a tip doesn’t sit right in his stomach.

“Jo!” you turn away from the show easily, smile going from cheeky to something soft when your eyes lock with his. You’re quick to abandon your previous conversation, full of what Togame observed were comments made for batting beautiful eyelashes and forcing giggles, and lean into him, standing on your tippies to press a kiss to the side of his mouth as a version of hello. “What are you doing? I was just about to find you.”

You’re not just a pretty thing, you’re a sweet thing too, and it’s clear you had no intention of finding yourself swept up into a conversation with the man mixing your drink, but nonetheless, anyone who runs tabs at a bar should be able to recognize when the only reason someone keeps responding to their frivolous comments is because they’re too polite to cut short a conversation.

“Is everything okay, my love?” you ask, as though it’s clear something is on Togame’s mind, and you thread your fingers through the soft hair at the back of his scalp to draw his attention back to you.

He has to suppress a grin thinking about the little show he’s giving your new friend.

“I’m not sure,” he responds, letting the words settle one by one, watching as worry starts to weigh down your brow. Though he’s more intent on keeping your focus away from anyone other from him, the bartender’s annoyed expression does not go unnoticed out of the corner of his eye. “The music’s making my head hurt, thinkin’ I might head out soon?”

“Oh no!” you suck in a sharp breath, your lips tightening in a concerned frown as you move to press the back of your hand to his forehead, “want me to come with?”

“It’s okay, baby. Stay. Enjoy yourself, alright?” he presses a kiss to your pout, maneuvering your hand from his face to hold to his chest. He milks the moment, pulls away from the lights, the noise, and the people to drink you in, and remind any animals who think they have a chance at something more than just your courtesy that they don’t, and never, ever will.

“No, no,” you break the silence, dropping your hands from him only to make sure your tiny purse is still attached to the chain hanging from your shoulder before linking his arm with yours, “I’m going. No reason to stay, anyway. Wanna make sure you’re okay.”

(Togame can imagine what will happen when you're home: you'll run him a hot and herbal bath, he'll coax you into the water with him, and the steam will get you both get light headed enough for the medicinal to turn into something more erotic—and by the time the both of you wake up tomorrow, naked, limbs sticky and tangled, he'll be perfectly refreshed.)

“Miss, your drinks?”

You’re half away step away when the bartender calls, but without letting go, you throw a couple hundred yen behind you without even a cold look back.

"You can dump them, sorry.”

And while you take the lead to the road, Togame looks over his shoulder and grins.

She picked me.

[lordprettyflackotara]

Creepypasta Masterlist:

Jeff the killer:

sfw & nsfw general headcannon’s

criminal

—> the one where Jeff robs a bank and you’re the cute bank teller

dollhouse || part two || part three || part four || part five || bonus ||

—> the one where you’re paired with your enemy to complete a mission for slender

did it first || part two

—> the one where jeff is obsessed with you but he doesn’t anticipate you to return the favor

red sex || blurb

—> the one where jeff can’t get enough of seeing you in his favorite color

Eyeless Jack:

sfw & nsfw general head cannon’s

till dawn || part two || part three || the finale || bonus ||

—> the one where ej needs shelter from the rain and keeps your bed warm in exchange

huntin’ wabbitz

—> the one where you accidentally stumble upon ej’s dinner time, resulting in you being his dessert

whogoesthere? || part two || part three ||

—> the one where jack saves you from a coyote & you offer him a joint as payment

after hours

—> the one in which you usually only see jack during his heats, but he decides he wants you all year round

4 am || blurb

—> the one in which jack can’t get enough of the taste of your period blood

who’s afraid of little old me?

—> the one in which you’re hunting in the slender forest, only to be caught red handed by jack, who is very territorial

make a move

—> the one where you’re a detective tasked with investigating a local cannibalistic serial killer demon

american dream || blurb

—> the one where you realize jack is better then the american dream

BEN Drowned:

video games || blurb

—>the one where you give ben a little payback

professional

—> the one where you’re ben’s favorite cam girl

mr.take your bitch || blurb

—> the one where ben wants you all to himself

Proxies:

holding the gun || hoodie

—> the one where you’re a proxy on a mission with hoodie and things get a bit heated on the way back home

betrayed || masky

—> the one where you betrayed masky and he’s not going to let you forget it

decode || ticci toby / two

—> the one where toby saves you from a bear and you can’t get him out of your head

the perfect pair || masky || blurb

—> the one where you’re the perfect partner for masky

freaky friday || the proxies || blurb

—> the one where you’re having a late night smoking session with your boys

dance with the devil || ticci toby & kate the chaser

—> the one where you’ve been kidnapped and kate offers you something you can’t refuse

blue || masky

—> the one where you’re tim wrights girlfriend and he comes to say goodbye after becoming a proxy

6 inch heels || the proxies

—> the one where it’s toby’s birthday and is taken out to a strip club to celebrate

deja vu || hoodie

—> the one where you know hoodie somehow, but you just can’t explain it

The Bloody Painter:

habits

—> the one where your abusive relationship with your boyfriend intrigues helen, causing him to become obsessed with you

art deco || blurb

—> the one where helen needs one more orgasm from you and his paintbrush is going to help him get it

hostage

—> the one where helen kidnaps you and you become his more then willing hostage

Bonus features:

forgot about jack || eyeless jack & jeff the killer

—> the one where you’re a newspaper editor who makes a story about the boys kills belonging to an eyeless jill and jane the killer, resulting in an angry eyeless jack & jeff the killer showing up at your door.

𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝓵𝔂pasta / 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝓵𝔂mansion au:

noise w / masky / hoodie / toby / eyeless jack / ben drowned / jeff the killer & ben drowned / the bloody painter / jane the killer & homicidal liu /

—> the one where you’re the lonely maid forced to work at the slender mansion

danger || masky & eyeless jack

—> the one where you sneak into slender’s forest to see your boyfriend masky, only to find out his secret life was much more than you could imagine. now your life is on the line and masky is willing to give ej anything if it guarantees you can escape alive

world class sinner || jeff the killer & jane the killer

—> the one where jeff and jane are determined to prove they’re better then one another and you’re the perfect person to make that decision

Series:

hitchhiker

masterlist with chapters & links to different platforms is : here

—> the one in which you help the proxies back to civilization by giving them a ride. but little did you know seeing their faces made you a target. one that needed to be eliminated.

[rpdepartment]

"Meet the Team" sentence starters!

30 starters ; TW for suggestive and violent content

i mean, do you even know who you're talkin' to?

grass grows, birds fly, sun shines, and brother? I hurt people.

if you were from where I was from, you'd be fucking dead!

if fighting is sure to result in victory, then you must fight!

i fear no man, but that… thing… it scares me.

no I… I ain't talking about that freak.

not one of you's gonna survive this.

i'm a grim bloody fable, with an unhappy bloody end!

oh, they're going to have to glue you back together… in hell!

this is my weapon.

who touched my gun?!

cry some more!

i solve problems.

i solve problems. not problems like "what is beauty?"… i solve practical problems!

use a gun. and if that doesn't work, use more gun.

boom. headshot.

as long as there's two people left on the planet, someone is gonna want someone dead.

i'm not a "crazed gunman", i'm an assassin!

i'll be honest with you: my parents do not care for it.

be polite. be efficient. have a plan to kill everyone you meet.

anyway, that's how i lost my medical license.

what was that noise?

kill me.

should i be awake for this?

oh, don't be such a baby… ribs grow back!

are you sure this will work?!

aw, man! you would not believe how much this hurts!

if you managed to kill them, i assure you, they were not like me.

what are you? president of his fan club?

listen up boy, or pornography starring your mother will be the second worst thing that happens to you today.

[b14augrana]

Deadeye

You meet your match in the Champions League semi final

Chelsea Women x teen!reader

Part of the Scrubber universe

masterlist

Warnings: reader is a teeny bit cocky. this is not proofread!

A/N: scrubberverse rivalry 🫢 this is basically scrubber pt. 1 from the pov of a chelsea youngster, based on ‘we both reached for the gun’ because i saw a hard messi-ronaldo edit to it and got inspired! hope you enjoy :) 💝

Beating Barcelona isn’t for everybody.

However, your team managed to do it.

At 16 years old, you were a standout player in Chelsea’s youth academy. Now at 17, you were a standout player in their first team.

Unfortunately, you weren’t a consistent starter just yet, because the likes of Mayra Ramirez and Sam Kerr were other worthy contenders for the spot in the starting eleven, but you came off the bench nine times out of ten. You were widely regarded as one of the best youngsters in the game right now, with how quickly you settled into the first team and the consistent performances you put up every time you were subbed on. Slipping through tight gaps with the ball glued to your feet was a trademark move of yours, and you were basically untouchable to defenders because you were so young and agile.

Your Champions League debut technically occurred in the group stage, but you really shone in the knockouts.

You came on for Mayra in the first leg of the Champions League, and though you were only on for fifteen minutes, it was enough for you to feel the satisfaction of winning in front of a full Barcelona stadium. A few key passes here and there did the trick.

If it hadn’t been for Sam doing her ACL, you’d imagine that the score would’ve been substantially worse for the home side to come back from, even on aggregate, but that wasn’t the case and 1-0 would have to do.

Erin said to not get ahead of yourself, because there was still the second leg at home, but you were over the moon. You liked to think you were a true blue, through and through, so moments like these were what made you the happiest.

Champions League glory seemed closer than ever, now that your team had proven you could overcome possibly the biggest obstacle in the tournament. Sharing the pitch with greats like Alexia Putellas and Aitana Bonmatí was an honour in itself, but beating them? Beating them was historic.

You smiled at the idea of it; beating the best players of all time, scoring at home in front of thousands of fans, possibly taking your team to the final, taking them one step closer to a Champions League title, but above all... proving that Barcelona is human. Maybe even proving that you are the best youngster in the world, along the way. Of course that was the dream, but you couldn't get lost in your fantasy world just yet, Erin said.

Now that you were standing in the tunnel, altering history for your club seemed imminent. Your manager, Emma, had told you that you'd feature in the starting squad for the evening, so it went without saying that the match would be extremely special for you.

“Excited?” Erin asked, looking over her shoulder to see you. You nodded, but you were more scared than anything. You were grateful to be starting, but also a little bit terrified.

“You’ll do good, I know it. You’ve got the deadeye we need to beat them,” she said, and a little giggle came from you in response, “I’ll try!”

Beside you, the Barcelona players were lined up, whispering amongst themselves in what you assumed to be Spanish. Some of the words didn’t sound like regular Spanish though, which sucked, because for a moment you thought you’d be able to eavesdrop on them with the minimal Spanish knowledge you have.

The officials at the end of the tunnel signalled for both teams to make their ways out, and your ears were almost immediately slammed with the cacophonous noises of a fully packed Stamford Bridge. It was amazing, playing in an environment like this while experiencing the tournament of your dreams, and the loud supportive cheers were something you wanted to get tattooed on your soul.

The Barcelona girls walked out looking staunch. They carried themselves proudly despite the loss they previously faced against Chelsea, but you thought nothing of it. All you were focused on was your undying desire to knock them out of the tournament and show the world what the Blues were really made of.

“5.. 4.. 3.. 2.. 1!”

The crowd counted down to the first whistle blow of the match, and the shrill noise rattled the stadium as the ball got rolling and the match commenced.

You passed the ball backwards then immediately made a run. It looked hopeful when the ball was lobbed back to you, but it was quickly shut down by a well-timed intercept from…

Who?

Well, she was gone before you could see the name on the back of her jersey. As she dribbled through the midfield before pinging a through ball to Hansen on the wing, you could only hear the cries of Mapi León from behind you. “Venga, bebita!”

You did remember talks about Barcelona having a youngster of their own, and this must be her.

Whatever, you thought. You had bigger things to focus on. Dropping back into the midfield, you hunted for the ball, and when possession of the ball was finally in your hands, you felt on top of the world.

It felt like nothing could stop you, now that you had the ball at your feet, dribbling seamlessly past the blaugrana jerseys. Being smaller than others on the pitch had its advantages as you weaved between the gaps and slipped past players… until you came up against her.

She stood tall in the backline, not even giving you a moment of her vision’s time as her eyes stayed glued to the movement of the ball.

You tapped the ball forwards, and she followed, tracking backwards. Stepover after stepover, it was becoming increasingly impossible to shake her as you struggled to deceive her, and then…

One heavy touch was all it took. It was an accident, and maybe you should’ve listened to Erin’s directions to lob it overhead and pass to Lauren, but it was too late; you were on the floor, she was just getting up. The ball was gone, and you were still on the floor. Without the ball.

“Fucks sake,” you hissed, scrambling to your feet and charging after the ball. You couldn’t seem to get past her, at least not yet. You had to think smarter, be faster, push stronger, kick harder, anything to snake your way past.

“Don’t worry about it!” Erin exclaimed, jogging behind you, “Just stay focused.”

You nodded, because she was right. If you wanted to win, if you wanted to see that beautiful silver trophy adorned in only blue ribbons, if you wanted the rewarding feeling of carrying it in your arms, you had to stay focused and you needed to beat Barcelona, or more so, their youngster.

You had to admit, you underestimated her. You didn’t expect her to be a defender and therefore didn’t expect to be crossing paths with her so often, but you expected wrong. She was strong and definitely knew her stuff when it came to defending; at times, it felt like you were kicking a ball into a brick wall, trying with no avail to get through.

It pissed you off.

Running forward made you open for a cross in from Lauren, who resided on the right wing. “Lauren!” you screamed, gesturing in front of you to where you were going to run. She looked up and noticed your frantic pointing, then she lobbed the ball across the field.

It was almost inevitably coming to you. It floated over everyone, barrelling down exactly where you wanted it, but then a body cut in front of you and before you could register anything, they were up in the air and heading it out of the box.

Every blocked shot, every slide tackle, every through ball, every aerial duel, it made you want to win even more. A distasteful feeling welled inside of your stomach when you realised she wanted it the same, if not more, given the way she was flying around and determinedly defending the goal.

The last line of defence was always her — she was the one separating you and the goal, never mind Cata Coll between the posts. It was her saving your shots.

Half time couldn’t have come sooner. You trudged off the pitch, slumping onto the bench as you sprayed water into your mouth. Jess sat beside you and put her hand on your back. “Feeling okay?” she asked, and you nodded simply.

“You’re doing well. Once you get past their back, it’s all yours,” she smiled, rubbing your back reassuringly. You smiled in return, putting your head on her shoulder. “Thanks, J.”

Even Jess knew how much that centerback was troubling you. The whole lot of them irritated you because they were just so good, and they never crumbled even under pressure, but she was something else. Whether you admired her, envied her, or disliked her, was to be decided by the next half.

She was like you — a young talent — but your positions were different. You were a striker, so you could make mistakes. It was one of your many comforts. She was a defender, and there was no room for mistakes at the back. It was incredible that they trusted her so much to start her over the likes of Engen and Paredes, but you could see why they did. You had everyone else on their knees, except for her.

The defining factor, you thought, was the fact you had seen the others play so many times. Rolfö, Guijarro, Walsh, Hansen, they weren’t new phenomenons; you could anticipate their next moves, unlike their new centerback. You didn’t know how she tackled or how strong she was until you were face to face with her.

Aitana had scored in the middle of the first half. 1-0 wasn’t too bad to come back from, so you were confident that you’d get one back. Hope is a dangerous thing, but you had it.

The second half started with more intensity than the first. From kick off, the ball could barely be seen as anything but a blur zipping around the pitch. You sent the ball spinning across the damp pitch to Catarina Macario on the wing, who took one magnetic touch before exploding outwards.

Lucy Bronze had overlapped and now there was a big gap in the defence. Their midfielders were dropping, but they still weren’t quick enough to reach Catarina.

“Watch the wing!” Mapi yelled to someone. You decided to make a run into the box, preparing yourself for some sort of cross, and that’s when you saw it.

It kind of felt like a suitable muse for a renaissance painting, if the context was included — teenage girl slide tackling a world class, Champions League-winning winger to spare her goalkeeper the displeasure of saving a goal. That didn’t change the fact that you were infuriated at the dwindling prospect of getting a goal.

It was hard to hate a player that has done nothing to you except be better than you, but you felt like you were just about at that point.

Your heart raced with every telltale sign of a big chance. Lauren getting the ball seemed promising, and you trailed into the middle for support. “Lauren! Cross it!” you screamed, hoping your cries would be heard. Instead, you watched her cut inside and wind up to take a shot, your stomach swelled with dread when you saw a body in the way and the ball deflecting off someone’s back. Someone being… well, take a guess.

Hope is a dangerous thing, and you had lost it by the 80th minute. It was heartbreak for your team when the final whistle was blown and the game ended 2-0 for the away side, going down in history as yet another amazing Barcelona comeback.

You watched her get swarmed by her teammates, a smile on her face as they engulfed her in hugs and forehead kisses before she walked away with Mapi. You could only observe as you clapped for all the wrong reasons. The title was so close, yet it had always been far. It was appalling as much as it was unbelievable that the person with the most blood on their hands was a teenager. The nail in the coffin was learning post-match that she was actually freshly 16.

You two were no longer a coexisting pair of young talents. You weren’t sharing the stage anymore.

You were competing for the stage.

[sunraies]

Broken Glass

Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

Warnings - blood, mentions of feeling sick, fluff, moodswinging Rafe.

You have a hard shift at the country club, and it gets worse when you have to clean up Rafe Cameron's mess.

A scene from season 2 is used.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Working at the country club meant dealing with obnoxious, rich people. Demanding everything to be done for them, right there and then with a smile on your face.

Most days, you could do it. Providing excellent service with a smile, but as the day dragged on, it became harder and harder to do. Saturday shifts were always a nightmare.

The members who had been enjoying the club during the day loved to spend the evening drinking at the club's main bar. A lot of the younger Kooks enjoyed the atmosphere on a Saturday night.

With champagne practically on tap and beer flowing more freely than water as black cards and 100 dollar bills were placed on the tables, it was a busy night.

You could see Rafe getting more and more energetic in whatever he was explaining to Kelce and Topper. You sighed as Topper stopped serving as soon as his friends arrived, leaving you to cover for him managing drinks and inpatient, drunk people.

As he put his beer down on the bar, he leant back, making fake gun noises with a grin.

Rafe looked more relaxed than usual, most likely from the alcohol and whatever drugs he'd done that day running through his veins.

He kept moving backwards, nudging into another member behind him. They were getting more and more annoyed by the second.

"Do you mind?" Bob had enough after the third time of being bumped into.

"I'm sorry?" Rafe span around to him, his smile suddenly gone.

"Do you mind?"

Rafe stared at him for a moment before leaning in closer. "Yeah, I do mind, Bob."

Bob blinked and nodded, looking deeply offended as he turned away for a second.

"Take a shot with me, pussy" Rafe picked up, the nearest shot glass and began pouring it over Bob's hand "Come on. Take a shot."

"Hey, come on, man." Topper tried to defuse the situation, but it escalated quickly as Bob jumped to his feet.

"Hey! What the hell are you doing?" He snapped and pushed Rafe's shoulder back, making Rafe stumble and knock over glasses on the bar. Smashing multiple in the process.

"Take a seat. That's what you need to do!" Rafe pushed him back harder, causing him to fall back into his chair in complete shock.

Bob was one of the nicest members, always polite and tipping well. He even got on with Rafe when he golfed with Ward. You'd seen Rafe angry before but to snap at Bob like that was a new level.

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!" Kelce jumped up and pulled Rafe back as he squared up to Bob. Topper tried to get between them, but he wasn't much use, with the bar in the way.

Everyone around had gone silent, watching the exchange unfold. You hurried over from your side of the bar to Topper's, throwing a towel down over the broken glass and spilt drinks.

Kelce desperately tried to get Rafe to move away, repeating his name softly as Bob called for the manager.

"Eat shit!" Rafe pointed at him over Kelce's shoulder.

"Look at me. Look at me." Kelce sounded calm but clearly worried about Rafe.

"What?" He snapped, looking from Bob to Kelce as he breathed heavily.

"Calm down, alright?

"No one will drink with us, man,"

"I swear to god - Hey!" Kelce slapped his cheek lightly as Rafe looked around in a dazed.

Whatever he was telling Rafe, you didn't hear as you focused on cleaning up the mess of broken glass. Kelce seemed to have him under control as Bob was taken care of by another co-worker.

"Careful," Topper said as you used the towel to wipe the broken glass into the bin.

"I got it, Top"

"Just watch the big -"

"I said I fuckin' got it, Top" you snapped.

Normally, you got on with him. You could easily call him a friend. He was actually a sweetheart, and once you got to know him, you felt bad for the guy who had his heartbroken by Sarah Cameron.

But you were already stressed as it had been a day of cleaning up messes from having no lunch break on a 12 hour shift due to the lunch rush and the trash bags breaking on trash duty, leaving a disgusting stain of bin juice on your white sneakers. This was the icing on the shitty work cake. Cleaning up Rafe Cameron's fucking mess.

"Go check on your boy," you nodded towards Rafe and Kelce.

Topper looked from you to them and back again. He nodded before checking on Bob first. Seeing if he could win him over with his charm, free whisky, and the best hours for the golf course tomorrow.

You shook your head as it seemed to work. Good job Steve, the main manager wasn't in that night as Rafe would be out on his ass and Topper's job with it.

"Hey Topper! Come on, " Rafe called over to him with a smile back on his face. "Let's go, man."

He waved him over as he headed towards the door. Topper looked at you, and you sighed

"Go, I'll cover."

"You're the best." Topper smiled and quickly kissed your temple before throwing off his apron.

Rafe pointed at you as he walked backwards. "Put it on, Cameron! Add a round for everyone"

You had to laugh. One minute, he was ready to fight sweet Bob, and the next, he was offering to buy everyone drinks. He even had the cheek to wink at you. Luckily, it was towards the end of the night, so it wasn't a massive round.

As you shook your head at his wink, with a small smile, you felt a sudden sharp pain across your palm. Looking down, a large piece of glass had pierced through the towel and cut across your skin.

You stared at it for a moment before looking away and swallowing. You hated the sight of your own blood. It always made you queasy.

"Shit, shit, shit," you muttered, blinding grabbing napkins beside you and covering your hand before hurrying out to the kitchens.

It was dark, but you managed to make it over to the sink and winced as you ran your hand under the water. You tried to be brave and look at the damage before you just couldn't.

As you felt the tears welling in the cover of your eyes, the lights came on. Every little stress of the day had finally gotten too much.

"I'm fine, Top," You called, not looking over. You knew he had seen it happen. He'd been smiling goodbye, trying to push Rafe out the door as he walked backwards.

"He's says you don't like blood," Rafe's voice appeared instead, "and he's shit with it too"

You quickly wiped your eyes with your clean hand and glanced over your shoulder at him. "I'm ok, Rafe." You sighed. "You're not meant to be back here"

You really didn't have the energy to deal with him. Since working with Topper, you'd grown a civil relationship with his friends. But Rafe was still the Pogue hating Kook King. You tolerated each other when you were working or invited to one of Topper's parties.

"Says who?" He smirked, moving closer.

"The sign on the door. Or can't you read?"

"I can read perfectly well, sweetheart"

"You don't own the country club, you know that, right?"

He shrugged. "Close to it." He seemed uninterested as he started looking in cupboards.

"Whatever you are looking for. Stop." You took a glance at your hand again and winced as the water was still a little red.

"Any. Anything goes missing, and it's my job on the line." You stumbled on your words a little as you closed your eyes tight. Taking deep breaths, you tried not to break in front of him.

"You know where the first aid kit is?" He was still slamming doors, but he sounded sober.

"Uh, under the sink." You moved to get it, but he suddenly had his hands on your hips, gently moving you to the side.

"Keep rinsing it, no pressure in case there's still glass in there." He bent down beside you and rummaged through the cupboard.

All you could do was nod, grateful in your haze that you'd remember some of your first aid training. Being the only first aider on shift and unable to handle your own blood wasn't ideal.

Once he found it, he quickly checked the supplies in the small box. You watched him, welcoming the distraction from staring at the wall. He nodded to himself as he seemed satisfied that it would do before pulling out the necessary items.

"Can I look at your hand?" He sounded so gentle as he turned off the water. You glanced down to see how bad it was, but with no water, all you saw was a bloody palm.

"It's ok, you don't have to look at it," He said softly, ever so carefully taking your hand in his. His hand was warm and soft, his touch delicate as he wiped the blood away.

You hissed in a pain as he muttered an apology. "How bad is it?"

"Well, I think we may have to stitch it"

"Oh, fuck no!" You tried to pull your hand away as he laughed.

"I'm joking, baby," Rafe chuckled, "butterfly strips will do. A bit of gauze and bandage, you'll be good to go"

You hit his shoulder. "Not funny"

"Your face was a little." He had been calling you all sorts of nicknames for a while, so the 'baby' didn't faze you.

You sat on the workside after he made you while he gently put the butterfly stripes on. Once the gauze was over it you could finally look.

"Where did you learn all this?

"I was a life guard for a summer. My dad thought it would make me more responsible."

"Seemed to have worked." You smiled as you watched him place your hand on your lap while he grabbed the bandages.

"Not really." He shrugged, taking your hand in his again. "I spent most of the summer smoking behind the pool house and hooking up with any hot chick who looked my way."

You hummed. "Sounds like a fun summer"

He nodded and gave you a wicked smile. "Oh, it was."

"What happened out there with Bob?" You dared to ask. He seemed like a completely different Rafe.

"Shit with my dad," He muttered, but that was all he was going to give you.

You watched as he was so gentle in wrapping your hand. Who knew Rafe Cameron could be so delicate?

"To tight?" He asked, looking up at you. His blue eyes gave you a look as gentle as his hands.

You couldn't help the way your cheeks burned a little as you shook your head. Nope, you couldn't have a crush on Rafe. Nope, Nope, Shit.

"Perfect," you breathed as you found your words.

"Right." He nodded, still holding your hand in his warm one, his thumb absentmindedly brushing over your wrist "Perfect"

Your eyes moved from his, to his lips and back again, you caught him as his eyes copied. He leaned it a fraction more as you seemed to be drawn forward.

"How is the patient?" Topper burst through the doors, pushing them wide open as he made his wonderfully timed entrance.

"Fine, Fine," you said at the same time as Rafe had quickly moved away, rubbing the back of his head while you swung your legs.

Topper looked between the pair of you before clapping his hands together. "Well, our shifts are over. Alan is on lock up duty. Kelce heard that Cassey is throwing a party. What do you say?"

"I should probably head home." You still felt a little queasy. But you were unsure if it was from the blood or the realisation of your feelings.

"Booze are the best medicine!" Kelce appeared behind Topper

"I'm sure they are, Kel," you hopped down, "but I really just want to lay down"

You did look a little unwell, Topper realised once you headed towards him. He held your arms gently and looked over your face. "Alright, let's get you home"

"I'll take her home," Rafe offered, his eyes moving from staring at Topper's hands on you.

"You've been drinking," You pointed out, looking over your shoulder at him

"Fair point." He thought for a moment. "Top will take you home." He slung an arm over your shoulders, "and we'll come with. Right, Kelce?"

"I actually didn't have that man -" Kelce started before Rafe cut him off with a look. "Oh, no, right. Yeah. I had too many. We'll take you home in Top's Jeep"

[lostsyren]

Lol, this almost happend to me with my ex so it gave me a request idea of it happening between them: Sofia sneaks over to Rafe’s place wanting to surprise him. Rafe thinks there is an intruder/robbery hearing noise. Surprise meeting around a corner in the house and Rafe hits her (not domestic violence in that way, because obv he would never hurt HER, mistaken identity thinking it’s a dangerous situation) – Super regretful attentive Rafe who is super lovey and feels bad <3

── .✦ surprise

{summary: sofia decides she wants to pay rafe a surprise visit, but little does she know, rafe hates surprises}

{a/n: hi lovely thank you for the request and story time, I hope you like it and I hope you’re ok from the scare!}

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Being let off work early had given her this idea. Sofia knew that Rafe wanted to see her, but she had to decline, due to her night shift at the club. So when her boss had graciously let her go home, Sofia thrummed with excitement at the prospect of finally being the one to surprise Rafe.

It always irked her how he’d sneak up behind her– silent, despite his lanky frame– and loop his arms around her waist causing her to bristle in shock. Or how he’d suddenly yell out in the dark while they’d be sitting nestled on the couch with a horror movie he put on. Sofia would scream and Rafe would laugh, bundling her up in a hug as the nerve-inducing soundtrack screeched in the background.

So that’s the reason she ended up pulling into the driveway of his house, sneaking in through the side door she knew he never locked, under the cover of darkness.

She wanted to get him back.

Rafe was a home– she could tell by the car and the bike both parked up in the front. Usually in the evening he’d be in the study, probably arranging another property deal.

Sofia padded quietly across the wooden floors, her lips caught between her teeth as she tried to still her breathing. She didn’t really have a plan, just to pop up when he least expected. So she drifted noiselessly through the empty rooms, eyeing the yellow light spilling out of the study.

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He didn’t even realise how dark it had had gotten, nighttime settling undoubtedly on the skyline. Rafe let out a small groan, his eyes straining from the lurid laptop light. Shuffling out of the leather chair, he stood up and headed to the kitchen, ready to finally eat something. He wanted to go get dinner with Sofia tonight but she had work, to his dismay. He hated when she wasn’t with him– the thought of those asshole golfers and cardigan wearing yuppies chatting her up at the bar made him sick. Rafe ignored how he started off as one of those assholes. But that was different, he told himself. He was different– Sofia even said so herself.

Rafe wondered how her shift was going as he exited the study, about to pull out his phone to text her, when he noticed the side door from across the open plan space slightly ajar. The sound of its hinges rattled as it was knocked about by the breeze filtering in. He hadn’t left it open…that meant someone else had opened it. Goosebumps splayed across the sensitive skin on his nape. They could be in the house.

The gun. Shit. It was upstairs. Rafe’s eyes frantically scanned his surroundings, searching for a sign– a dark figure in the corner, a set of footprints, an askew painting. But everything looked the same, as much as it could’ve done in the shadow painted room.

That’s when he heard it. The faintest sound of footsteps above him. Someone was upstairs.

With all that he had experienced–the violence, the bloodshed– Rafe’s brain conjured up equally violent and bloody scenarios of a dire home invasion, a grisly robbery, a sinister payback. God knew he had enough people who hated him to do something like that.

So he approached the stairs with a wary stride, eyes manic and fists balled. The image of the gun laying in his drawer was in his mind. Get the gun and he’d be fine– that’s what he told himself.

So he made a dash for the bedroom. But his frantic steps slowed on hearing a small creaking sound emanate from the slit in the door. They were inside.

Rafe approached the bedroom, his heart galloping in his chest, adrenaline pumping across his veins.

All the heady rush of emotions and hormones slammed into him like a truck when he saw the door peep open, a shadow cutting across the sweep of moonlight.

Rafe just swung his arm instinctively.

His first feeling was confusion, when he heard the little squeak of a scream the ‘intruder’ let out. It only became even more confusing to him when it wasn’t a 6 ft burly guy who keeled down in pain, but a 5’4 wisp of a person.

It took a second for his brain to whirr and piece together what had just unfolded.

“Sofia?”

Rafe’s mouth hung wide open, confusion quickly bleeding into distress.

He’d just…he just hit Sofia. Rafe felt sick, a frigid chill prickling across his skin.

Sofia’s hands flew to her face, her dark curls falling softly into her eyes, so he couldn’t see her expression. She had swayed backwards slightly, catching herself on the door frame.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, are you alright?”

Rafe scampered toward her, bending down to hover his hands over her face. His fingers carded through her hair, trying to see the damage he’d done.

“Ow,” she whimpered, the sound making his heart vault into his chest

Rafe tried to gently move her hands away, to see her eyes scrunched shut, a bright red mark on the left side of her face.

“Are you ok? Sofia?” He asked, voice breaking, threatening to erupt into tears.

He felt horrible, all the things people would call him (monster, psycho, killer) had gushed forward and inundated him once again. He was reminded of the reason why he was heading to the bedroom in the first place– to get the gun. Imagine if he had shot her? The image of Sofia looking at him, betrayal etched across her features, blood blossoming from her chest, flashed across his mind making him nauseous.

“I’m fine,” she laughed softly, “just trying to get my vision back.” Sofia smiled up at him through her eyelashes with an impish grin, tone humorous.

But he still spiralled into panic, his hands cupping her face, his body bent down to level with hers.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, bringing his lips to the skin he’d hit, that burned an angry crimson. Rafe brushed a litany of kisses across her cheeks, her brows, her jaw, trying his best to kiss it better, to reverse what had just happened.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured against her smarting skin, kissing it again, “sorry,” kiss, “sorry,” kiss, “sorry”.

He only stopped when Sofia’s hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him away from her.

“It’s ok Rafe, it was a mistake. I just wanted to surprise you, sorry for scaring you ok?” She said with wide, imploring eyes, her fingers rubbing little circles into his jaw.

Rafe tried to clam himself down, using the sweet sound of her voice to soothe him. His hands rested on her shoulders, clinging to them like an anchor.

“I’m ok, you’re ok…we’re fine Rafe.” Sofia whispered, words draping over him like velvet.

He didn’t notice when his breaths began to come out as ragged lurches, his chest jerking erratically, his throat confined by barbed wire.

Sofia seemed to notice though, his rapid descent into apprehension snuffing out the humour in her eyes and replacing it with a shining concern.

He never wanted to hurt her– the image of Sarah flailing under the water, Kie’s face strangulated and ashen, his father hunched over, bleeding out to die, projected in full colour on his mind.

So he tried his best to hone in on her voice.

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She was sitting on the cold marble countertop in the kitchen, watching Rafe as he prepared an ice ice pack for her. He was wearing a sweater, the dark blue one she liked.

Sofia was still thinking about his over reaction upstairs. The way his hands shook as they cupped her face, his heavy breaths, his bombardment of kisses.

She kept trying to tell it was fine, that she knew he didn’t mean it, that she knew it was an accident.

But Rafe continued to radiate with guilt. She could feel it even now, with his back turned to her, rolling hot waves of regret emanating from his body.

He walked over, ice pack in hand, almost at equal height with her sitting on the barstool and him standing. Fingers brushing against the her hair, he curled the strands behind her ear, placing the ice on her inflamed skin.

They sat in silence, Rafe focusing on the ice pack and Sofia transfixed on his eyes.

“I won’t sneak up on you again, I promise,” Sofia teased, trying to alleviate the suffocating tension. She ghosted her fingers over the veins of his hand.

“I’m glad you’re here.” Rafe said, voice uncharacteristically serious. He was usually so playful and cocky, but his lips had no smile and his eyes were deep with a stony gravitas.

She wanted to make a joke, something along the lines of ‘well you can’t be too happy, you just hit me in the face’ but she didn’t want Rafe to start feeling bad again.

“Me too,” she smiled instead.

Setting the ice pack down on the counter, Rafe let out a heavy sigh.

“Hey baby, don’t worry ok?” She soothed, her hand resting on his shoulders, squeezing hard.

“I hurt you Sofia. That’s not nothing.” His words were rasped, as if it hurt to say out loud.

Sofia’s eyes flickered between his, her other hand inching up his arm.

“You wanna make me feel better?” She said, voice low and sultry, trying to coax Rafe out of his dread state.

He definitely picked up what she was putting down, his mouth opening slightly as his eyes drank her in.

“Sofia…” he began, tone almost chastising as he tried to step back.

But Sofia’s grip on him tightened. “Shhhh answer the question Rafe.”

“Of course I do.”

“Well then, let’s go upstairs then, shall we?” She murmured, standing up to wrap her fingers around his wrist, tugging him slightly.

She turned around to lead the way, before she felt Rafe’s hand drop from hers. Sofia was about to turn around to face him before she felt his big arms wrap around her waist, hoisting her up into his embrace.

Gasping in shock, her hands flew around his neck for support.

“Changed your mind?” Sofia teased, eyes crinkling in a smile.

“Need to show you how sorry I am,” he said voice low, bringing his lips to kiss her cheek.

“I’ve already forgiven you Rafe.” She said softly, against his jaw.

Rafe didn’t look at her, his face in the crook of her neck, almost in repentance. “I haven’t forgiven myself yet.”

Sofia didn’t know why, but that made her heart break. She traced her fingers over the planes of his face, making him look at her. Her fingertips were feathering and gentle, her touch inviting. She slowly leaned up to brush a kiss over his closed mouth.

She felt Rafe hesitate at first, his body freezing, before his lips dissolved into the kiss, a heady concession of muted passion.

As he continued to pepper kisses across her skin: her lips, her cheeks, her forehead, he moved across to where the couch was, gently laying her down.

The house was quiet and empty– the only sound that could be heard was Rafe showing Sofia just how sorry he was, the night bringing more surprises than Sofia thought it would.

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[2cool4ghoul]

I can dream, can't I?

Part 2 <3

AO3 link <3

This is my first time uploading anything like this, this dried up old cowboy got me feeling some kind of way! felt like joining the club! I was hoping for this to be multiple parts (featuring pre war Cooper and the ghoul) if anyone is interested in that, let me know!!!!!

word count: 4,349

Summary: You've spent the last few years after escaping your vault roaming the wastelands, doing whatever it is that you need to do to get by. Before the bombs dropped you were a model/singer, which is were you met western movie star Cooper Howard! You two spent the last few months before the bombs dropped falling in love but the bombs put a pin in that. But one day amongst the endless days spent walking, you come across a crazily familiar cowboy....

warnings: 18+, fingering, oral (fem receiving), swearing, minimal violence, if you want a part 2 there will be p in v, restraints, not yet edited.

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Whilst the sun proved itself unbearable on most days, today had been particularly blistering. 

Traveling through the wasteland alone, on little to no water, with zero companionship had started to take its toll on you and you were sure you were becoming delirious. Your canteen had ran dry a couple miles back, the nearest town was unimaginably far, and you could’ve sworn you’d already passed that mound of dried yellowing grass. 

Refusing to admit you were lost, you dug your feet into the sand, one step at a time, panting and wiping the sweat from your brow. It was times like this that made you wish you’d never left your Pip-boy behind in the vault when you made your dramatic exit. What once served as a constant reminder of the vaults would’ve now been your best chance at survival. 

You shudder whenever memories of your vault come to mind. The experiments and test you had endured had left enough scars on your body to make you forget what your skin looked like before everything. 

Before the bombs had dropped you had been plastered on every other billboard, advertising whatever suspicious product had been shoved in your hands that day. You’d once had dreams of becoming a singer, but that had been stripped away from you in the midst of a messy divorce with none other than the head of RobCo himself. He’d sought to ruin what was left of your dreams in anyway that he could, even if that meant freezing you for god knows how many years and letting men play their cruel games with you in the name of science. These memories were often punctuated with plans of revenge and carefully thought out methods of torture that would yield the most excruciating pain. There was lots of time to think and to plan when wandering the wasteland, so you knew you’d be ready when the time came.

A sadistic grin was wiped from your lips when a distant scream snapped you from your planning. You paused for a moment, frowning whilst trying to figure out from what direction the commotion was coming from. Gunshots were fired, igniting excitement in your belly at the thought of a possible fight, something to break the monotony of walking all day and night long. Once you’d figured out the location of whatever was going on, you paced in its direction, a large dune of sand providing you with a height advantage. The grunts and growls of a creature grew louder, frantic shouts of panic coming from a women. 

You could immediately identify the creature by its ungodly noises, however when the scene came into view, you were still impressed with yourself for being correct. A deathclaw had chosen two wanderers as its victims. One appeared to be a vaultie, still in her nearly pristine blue and yellow suit, making you scoff a little. The other, a ghoul dressed in a cowboy get up, his hat having been knocked to the side as he tried his very best to fight of the beast which was barely flinching at the bullets being torn into its skin. The Vaultie had been holding up a tranquilliser gun, which was doing little to deter the deathclaw from sizing up its next meal, managing to swipe her back into the sand with a thud. It then set its eyes on the ghoul, slowly stalking up to them as they hastily reloaded their gun. 

After a few moments of deciding on the next course of action, whether to let the laws of nature take their course or to intervene, you decided on intervening. No matter how hard you’d try to forget it, you too had once been a vaultie trying to survive and would’ve begged on your knees for help. Or maybe you had just become soft. Swiftly, you pulled your shotgun from over your shoulder, lifting it and shutting one eye to aim correctly. You squeezed and pulled the trigger, right as it jumped to pounce on the ghoul. Your first bullet lodged itself into the side of the creatures face, and you shot another bullet right between the eyes, leaving it slumped on the floor beside the ghoul, who was now laying on his back, catching his breathe. It took a moment for the two strangers to locate who had saved them as you stood atop the dune, shotgun still in hand, blinking at them with an unreadable expression. Despite saving their lives, you didn’t trust that they wouldn’t turn on you, so you kept your gun in hand, breathing steadily.

“Thank you, stranger! I surely thought that was the end!” The Vaultie beamed up at you, wide eyes showing their relief, the grin plastered across her face, showing too much innocence. 

“My pleasure, sugar!” You called back down, your southern accent thicker than it used to be, surprising you even when you spoke. “You two best keep your wits about ya, not everyone out here is as willin’ to lend a helpin’ hand to those in need.” 

“We will certainly keep that in mind!” She glanced over at you and then over to the ghoul who was staring at you with wide eyes, his hat in hand, frozen in place. 

“Well,” You began making your way down the dune, walking carefully with the gun still in hand due to the Ghoul’s out of sorts reaction to your help, “You wouldn’t happen t’have any water you could share, in exchange fo’ saving your lives?” You tilted your head, diverting your attention to the Vaultie, flashing her one of your signature starlet grins, fluttering your lashes. 

“Of course!” She swung her back pack off her shoulder, also choosing to ignore the staring from the silent Ghoul, “I’m not too confident about how clean it is, but it is sure to quench your thirst!” She scrambled for her canteen before passing it in your hands eagerly. 

“Thank you, sweet girl.” You tipped your head to her before sipping, coolly, trying not to show how desperately you needed this. Whilst taking your last sip, your eyes got caught in the stare of the Ghoul, feeling him looking you up and down, examining your body and the tattered dress and cowboy boots, taking in every bit of you, eyes still as wide. “What’s tha matter with him?” You pressed as you passed the canteen back, “Looks like he’s seen a ghost.” Teasing, the Vaultie mirrored your confused expression.

“I think I have.” His voice was deep, the southern drawl faintly recognisable. He had finally gotten up to his feet, still standing a safe distance away from you. You took this as an opportunity to stare him down now. His face was marred and textured, his prominent bone structure told you before the effects of radiation took their toll, that he’d been rather handsome. Underneath the many layers of his clothes, a fade blue collar peeked out. You stood in silence, the pressure of his thick glare finally becoming all to much, your hand ghosting over your holster.

“Didn’t your mama teach you it was rude t’stare, old man?” Your tone was now threatening, “are we gonna have a problem?” Licking your lips, you readied yourself, the tension rising as you took a step closer. 

“Now, is that anyway to speak to your sherif?” He lowered his voice, so only you could hear him, also taking a step closer, the gap between you so small you could feel his breath fanning over your face. He stood much taller than you, intimidating in his stance, you had to tip your head back and look at him through your eyelashes, furrowing your brows.

“Cooper?...” You stuttered through your own confusion, your head leaning to the side slightly. At this close proximity you were able to properly look into his unchanged eyes. The glowing whiskey colour, twinkling in the hot sun. Immediately recognisable. “Oh, now you’ve got to be fucking kiddin’ me?” You laughed a sinister laugh, as a smug smirk played out over his lips. 

Catching him by surprise, you shoved him by both shoulders, sending him stumbling and falling back to the ground. You were quick to straddle his waist, pulling a knife from its holster attached to your thigh. “I’m gonna fucking kill you!” You threatened, he grabbed your wrists in protest, “You fucking knew, you told me I was crazy and you fucking knew all along!” 200 years of grief and longing and anger faltered at your lips, unable to form a full sentence as you both struggled on the floor. The Vaultie had chosen not to intervene, a couple ill attempts at deescalating the situation fell upon death ears. 

“Goddammit, darlin!” Cooper managed to hold both your wrist in one hand, pinning them behind your back. He flipped to two of you over, so he was firmly on top of you, the knife dropping from your hand as you fought back tears. You wriggled in his grip, eyes glassy, refusing to meet his own eyes. “You died, you had some awful crash, I went to your funeral.” He hissed at you, “What’re you doin’ here?” You stopped moving, stopping wriggling, the penny finally dropping. You sighed relaxing your body. He took note of this, his body falling next to you tired. You didn’t want to answer his question, sitting upright, deciding to leave the situation. 

“Not to intrude, but can someone tell me whats going on?” His companion waved awkwardly, finally taking a step closer to the two of you. You weren’t one to jump to conclusions but you looked back at Cooper and then at the girl, a sly chuckle leaving your lips.

“God, coop, you really are a dog, aren’t ya?” Raising an eyebrow at him, you shook your head, pushing yourself of the ground. “Well, you’ve certainly found yourself shacked up with a real man, miss…?” You spoke sarcastically, picking your knife from the floor, setting back into its sheath, gesturing for her name.

“Oh, my names Lucy-“ She put out her hand to shake yours before she was interrupted.

“Maclean.” It was spoken through gritted teeth, Cooper standing up, staring you down as you kissed your teeth.

“As in Henry Maclean?”

“Yeah, he’s my dad, I apologise in advance for what he did to you.” Lucy’s voice trailed off and she looked down, scuffing her feet. 

“We’re looking for him, haven’t seen him have ya?” Cooper was now standing by your side.

“No can’t say I have, I best be off,” His pointed glare looked at you unsure, untrusting of your decision to leave, “now you two have fun!” Turning you back to the both of them, you started walking in the opposite direction, ignoring any further protests, your name being called after you.

There was a slight scratch felt on your back, just below your shoulder. Stopping in your tracks, you reach round to pull out a small syringe. A scoff leaving your lips, the world around you deteriorating around you and melting into darkness. Your knees weakened and you fell directly to the ground, everything turning black just before your head made contact with the sand beneath you.

 ———————————————————————————————————————————

When you awoke, the room was dark and open, the warm glow of a fire illuminating one corner, casting a flickering orange shadow on the wall. Your head was throbbing, your body aching, you went to lift your arms to rub your eyes. However, you quickly came to realise you had been tied around the waist with rope, arms restrained behind your back, slumped in a chair which was close to falling apart. You writhed against your restraints, huffing before looking up and realising you were not alone in the room. 

Cooper was sat opposite the fire, the brim of his hat covering his eyes. “Sleeping’ beauty finally woken up?” You didn’t respond, simply staring him down looking at him past furrowed brows. “didn’t want to tranq ya, sweetheart, but you’re not gettin’ away that easy.” He smirked, leaving his position opposite the fire, slowly wandering over to you, the clatter of his spurs echoing in the empty room. “We got some catching up to do, do we not?” He now stood in front of you, the velvety drawl of his voice sounding better than you remember.

“M’not giving in that easy, Coop.” A smirk fluttered over you lips, blinking up at him through your lashes, sitting back in the chair to pretend at being comfortable.

“No? Of course you wouldn’t,” chuckling, he placed a gloved hand on your chin, forcing you to stare him in the eyes, “you wouldn’t be the lady I remembered so fondly if you did.” There was a chair that he dragged from out of you view, placing it in front of you, sitting down with his legs spread opposite you. “Now, you gonna tell me how you’re still here, lookin’ exactly how I left you, or am I gonna have to do this the hard way?” He spoke quietly, his elbows resting on his knees, leaning in closer to you. 

“I’m not telling you shit.” Your chest rose and deflated with every heavy breath you took, his gaze becoming almost as unbearable as the sun earlier that day. He tutted, leaning back, your eyes taking any chance they could to steal a glance between his thighs. He was pretending not to notice but you knew he did. This was the beginning of a sick game. One you definitely wanted to play. 

Licking his lips, he looked you up and down, tied up in your chair, squeezing your thighs together. For a moment there was silence, just the crackling of the fire. “What am I gonna do with you?” He muttered to himself as you sat firm in your silence 

“I can’t help you, Cooper, I don’t have the information you need.” You spoke matter of fact, and it was partly true. You knew nothing of Macleans whereabouts, you didn’t even know he was still kicking about.

“And what do you know about what information I need, huh?” He pondered, pulling a canteen of water from his coat pocket, your body stiffening at the sight of it. He raised it to his lips, slowly, eyes never leaving yours, even as drops littered down his chin, rolling down his neck. God, you could’ve jumped out of your chair and licked up those drops, drinking the water straight from his mouth. Your jaw fell slightly slack at the sight of it, the thoughts of sucking it up making your hips grind slightly in his direction, begging for any friction. This of course did not go unnoticed, for a sadistic chuckle left his chest, deep and inviting. “My oh my, you always were like a bitch in heat,” his tongue ran across his teeth, “you thirsty, lil’lady?” He gestured the canteen your way, “All you gotta do is ask for it.” 

You maintained your burning eye contact, pressing your lips together and nodding. “Gotta use your words,” getting up from his chair, he stalked his way over to you, making you crane your head up, basically panting for him, “go on, girl, ask for it.” He was enjoying this way too much.

“Give me some water.” You almost growled, the canteen so close to your lips, immediately pulled away.

“You need me to teach you some manners, girlie?” He was frowning, standing slightly behind you, just in view, “ask nicely.” 

“Can I have some water?” You were restless and if you squeezed your legs shut anymore your legs would be trembling, throbbing with your underwear damp with arousal. A light slap was planted against your cheek, not enough to hurt, but enough to send a shiver down your spine. “I’m not begging for it, Cooper.” Your tone was firm, but not firm enough to be truthful.

“Is that so?” His hand had moved down to your neck, grabbing firmly and tilting your head back so you could see him standing behind you, canteen in one hand. “Then you’re not gettin’ any.”

He kept a hold of you, like a wild animal, whilst he took another gulp of water, droplets dripping from his mouth pattering on your forehead and cheeks. Your mouth fell open, in the hopes of catching some, but you failed, only earning a throaty laugh from Cooper. “Christ, women, Look at you!” You’re cheeks flushed red with shame, humiliated with the mess you were. “You know what you gotta say-“

“Please Cooper Howard, I am begging you, Please!” You whined, close to tears as he raised where his eyebrows had been, watching you finally give in, pleased with himself. “Please.” You repeated breathing heavily. Your mouth dry, tongue running over your lips.

“Open wide, angel.” He mumbled, grip on your neck loosening ever so slightly. He tipped the contents into your mouth, water had never tasted so good, you let out relieved moans as you were replenished, not caring for the water that was spilling down your chest, falling between your breasts.

Whilst you took a moment to release a sigh of relief, the hand around your neck began traveling down, causing the tension to immediately rise back up. “That wa’nt so hard was it?” The depth of his voice and his accent leaving you quivering. His hand found its way to your breast, cupping and squeezing it, your back arching to his touch. He had been the last man to touch you like this, all those 200 years ago, and you’d dreamt of it ever since. You had never imagined you’d be lucky enough to experience it again. Yet, just as quick as his touch was on you, it left. You furrowed you brows, turning to try and meet his gaze with a pout, yet he was walking back out in front of you. Your bottom lip was tugged between your teeth as he had a sly grin on his lips. If your lips weren’t saying it, your big eyes were pleading with him to give you something else. Painfully slowly, he dropped to his knees in front of you, and your body involuntarily scooted to the edge of the seat, embarrassed by your own eagerness.

Despite him still being the man you’d once known somewhere in there, he’d been changed undoubtedly by his years of wandering. You shouldn’t be attracted to him anymore in the way you were. It was shameful of you to be this eager and will for him. Begging for any slight touch. Begging for a ghoul to give you something for your aching cunt to squeeze around.

“Why don’t you be a good girl and spread those legs of yours, show me what I been dreamin’ ‘bout?” Dripping with lust, he ordered whilst pushing your dress up around your waist. Doing as you were told, you opening your legs, being slightly shy. “No use being shy now, girl, open ‘em wide for this o’cowboy.” His annoyance only spurred you on, spreading them as wide as you could in the chair. “Goddamn,” He hissed, running his bare finger tips over your clothed arousal, the material slick and wet, “Your pretty lil’ pussy, practically dripping for me,” he groaned while pulling the fabric to one side, eyes taking in the sight of you panting, mouth wide, spreading your legs like a good girl, “all over a drop o’water?” He had a smirk on his new wet lips, that you just wanted to slap off. You thought for a moment of clenching your thighs around his head and neck and choking him out, yet you figured he’d enjoy that too much for it to be a form of punishment. 

When his mouth kissed against your inner thighs, you whispered a gasp, thighs finally trembling giving in to showing him how desperate you were for him. He was being cruel, teasing you and testing your limits. He refused to give into what you wanted without hearing you beg for it once more, taking immense pleasure in seeing you quivering and leaning into his slightest touch. His lips ghosted over where you needed him most, your eyes growing glassy, your stomach burning with desire, body aching from the tension you so needed releasing.

“Oh god, Cooper please, I need you so much, I’m achin’, it hurts, I need you.” Your words came out quickly, breathlessly, surprising the two of you, wiggling against the restraints, wishing to just grab his head and shove it into your grinding heat. He glanced up at you for moment, “please, I cant take this anymore.” You shook your head. “I’ll tell you anythin’ you want, please, just… just give me something.” A blanketed layer of sweat had ran over your body, glistening in the dimming glow of the unattended fire.

“You gon’ be a good girl f’me?” He looked at you sternly, his breath fanning over where you needed him most.

“I’ll be so damn good, I promise, I’ll do anything you want me to.” Swallowing down whatever was left of your pride, you scooted even closer to him and he hummed closing his eyes for a moment.

“I could listen to you beggin’ f’me all day.” He finally gave in.

His tongue lapped against you, a moan finally escaping you, He’d taken your thighs and rested them over his shoulders, full delving into you. His tongue dipped into you and you mewled. You so desperately wanted to touch him, pull him closer. The tension boiling within you was dangerously close to spilling over, embarrassingly fast. “God,” his voice vibrated against you, “You taste even sweeter than I remember, my sweet sweet girl.” He was in complete bliss, giving into a self indulgent spree of groans, sucking you in trying to taste as much as possible. Your thighs knock off his hat, yet neither go you seem to notice. He sucked at your clit, finding the sweet spot that he always knew so well, causing you to writhe and curse his name.

“Oh, Cooper, I’m gonna… oh please!” His hands dug into your thighs, leaving red marks that would definitely leave a bruise in their wake. He maintained his actions, until one hand reach round, finger tip tapping your clit whilst his tongue dug into you, readying himself to taste you as you came undone. 

“You gon’ cum for me, darlin?” He cooed.

This was enough to set you over the edge, “Oh my god, fuck!” You rocked forward, like a women possessed, as you clenched and squeezed shaking and shivering for him. Gulping for air, you were seeing stars, “There you go, attagirl.” He groaned, working you through you orgasm as the tension in your body released, your limbs relaxing. You were whimpering, expecting to feel his presence leaving you. However he remained, the pace of his fingers on your clit was fastening. Your back straightened, wishing you could relish in the release for longer before he started again. “I need a moment.” You panted and he looked up at you, pulling his face away, the sheen of his orgasm on his lips.

“No can do, sweetheart,” shaking his head, knelt in front of you, “I’m not finished with you yet.” Your eyes widened, gulping for air, mouth dry again. 

The finger was gone from your clit, pushing its way inside you as you threw your head back welcoming its entrance. “Besides, looks like youre takin’ it just fine to me.” His cocky voice was barely audible over the moans as he rutted his finger into you. He forced another digit in, slowly testing you with the feeling of pulling them all the way out and then all the way in again, knuckle deep in your cunt. You ground your hips against his fingers, eyes rolling back into your head, “God, look at you, fucking yourself on my fingers, you needy lil girl.” He tutted at you, dumbfounded by your willingness.

He curved his fingers, grazing against the spot which made you arch your back, “right there, sweetheart?” There was a gentleness in his voice, looking up at you as you clenched all your muscles against the rope, tied way to well for you to break free.

“Mmhmm, right there, cowboy.” You forced your words out, struggling to cope with the pleasure rushing through your body. Eyes squeezed shut, clenching around his fingers, fighting another orgasm with all your might, trying not to give in so easily this time. “I want you so bad.” You groaned and he went slightly rigid.

“Lets not move too fast now.” His jaw clenching, his own restrained demeanour threatening to break and snap. His quickened his pace with his fingers, trying to distract himself from the aching bulge of his own. “Don’t hold out on me, princess, I can feel how close you are, the way you squeezing round these fingers, come for me one more time.” He growled it, thrusting his hips into nothing, watching the way you were unraveling and moaning his name. He hadn’t expected you to be so eager, the rough exterior very different to the man you’d fallen in love with. 

The ever-growing tension was released once more, heart pounding in your chest, eyes rolling back until they’re were squeezed shut, cursing profanities and taking the lords name in vain, letting out unholy noises, rope beginning to rub the skin writhing beneath it raw. “Oh Cooper Howard, don’t stop.” You continued rolling against him, the use of his full name setting his heart alight. The waves of pleasure didn’t seem to stop, his fingers riding out the high for you, body shaking with tears rolling down your cheeks. Your body was truly truly spent. You had nothing left to give except for a lazy half lidded gaze at coop who was still kneeling opposite you, proud of himself that after all this time he was still able to leave you a dripping mess, trembling for him, moaning his name. Silence filled the room, your body slumped in the chair, staring down at him. You forced a lazy smile.

“What do ya wanna know?"

[jolalibrary]

midnight strikes, where is my prince?

frankie morales x reader

summary: he had been your neighbour. a man you'd stare at through blinds when he’d been on the front lawn. a man you’re now staring at through splintered shards of your mirror—because he saved you.

wordcount: <1k words warnings: happy Drabble Sunday—this week, ANGST 😂. there’s mentions of a break-in. frankie is there and he has a gun, so you know we’re okay. angst. inspired by a scene from scandal-if you know, you know (written on phone so apologies for spellings)

The clock by your bedside shows three minutes past twelve, marking another Saturday night in. One hand cradling your phone and the other reaching out to the cool embrace of the sheets.

You can almost feel the warmth they should hold, the gentle caress against skin that's missing. That promised to be back earlier—but earlier had been hours ago.

Now you’re alone, nestled in bed, having surrendered to its comfort for the past couple of hours.

No bustling club scene with sticky floors or the mingling scents of sweat and cologne as you attempt to order a Coke with ice at the bar. Instead, there's a quiet tranquillity, a peacefulness in the simplicity of your evening spent in restful solitude.

Or, there was.

Your back ripped up from the bedsheets at the first sound of glass shattering; something, in a room that isn’t this one, knocked over, crashing against tile or floorboards. Spilling—making a mess.

Then, there are footsteps. Loud—unashamed in their recklessness as they make their way through your home. The gait not matching what you’d expect, the sound nothing like one you listen out for with giddiness and a grin.

These sound like heavy boots. Not trainers or cowboy boots. Mind scrambling, searching for the things you've been told, taught—all just in case's and likely non-eventualities.

Nothing coming with ease, not as you imagine they're leaving invisible trails in whatever mess they’re making. Purpose-driven for what they're seeking, from the way you can hear them nearing—a quest for something specific, significant.

Slipping out of bed, your hand trembles as you slide the lock on your bedroom door. Standing there, bare feet planted on the cool wooden floor.

Panicked. Lost.

Uncertain of your next move or what it should be, courage dwindling. More small, helpless, than you’ve ever felt before—two things you cannot be if you have any hope of surviving this, making it through this, them.

Because you suspect they know you’re here now.

The lock turn had been loud. A click that had punctured through silence, fragmenting it, forcing attention to the door at the end of the hallway in the house they were moving through.

The one they chose deliberately.

Likely spotted that there was no vehicle on the drive—no light on. A home hand-picked for intrusion, likely assuming emptiness, all set to fill it with fear and loss.

Phone, you think. Moving, hand fumbling through the sheets, searching desperately for your phone until it finally rests in your palm. It emanates warmth, a comforting reminder of the aimless scrolling you had been immersed in before, as you unlock the screen with a hopeful swipe.

There's one number you think of. One.

As you dig for it, nervousness thrums you as though it’s been plucked like a string. It vibrating, chiming against bone, creating a song full of fear that’s made worse by the try of the handle—metal grating in their attempt.

Eyes focused on it.

It illuminated, catching a sliver of light from a nearby street lamp. You briefly admire its intricate details, unable to tear your gaze away, even as your chest tightens and pulse quickens with the realisation of their attempts to enter, pick, and force their way in.

It's too late when you become aware of the breeze of something moving past you.

A scream grows to escape, but a hand slides around your mouth—thumb over your nose, the noise buried and muffled against a palm.

Until your head turns. Landing on eyes that make you relax, make you calm. Brown, framed by loose curls and usually a smile.

“Shh, it’s me.”

He's here, close.

All pressed to you, hand remaining a cover to your panicked breaths—as the scent of him, all wooden, familiar, swarms you. It makes your heart hammer a fraction less; it makes your fingers grasp his thigh when he holds up a gun—his gun. The jeans are rough, worn, the pair so familiar to your palm as you ground yourself and seek stability.

You whimper his name, it muffled against his skin—each letter of it sketched across his hand.

It’s then the door splinters.

A set of things happening, one after the other. All seen through wide eyes and panicked breaths, a scream there, but never greeting the air as he releases you, shoves and moves you away.

It's a flurry, a rush, the person entering and then there being a struggle, things falling as your back meets the wallpapered wall, still cautious not to rip it, to make a mark—remembering what a fucker it was to hang.

You jolt at a thud.

It followed by silence, horrible, room-swallowing silence.

You should blink. Close your eyes. Turn away from it. The mess of crimson and the empty, open-eyed stare looking up at you—but you can’t. Compelled to hold it, watching the light fade as your ears ring, a persistent noise that refuses to fade, even when he stands before you, dominating your vision.

It doesn't quiet until Frankie says your name, a hand on your cheek, speaking it with urgency, all sharp letters, followed by: “Wait here, querida. Okay?”

And you do.

Arms gripping your waist, nails digging—hindering the shaking, desperate to force the falling apart to slow. To halt, as much as you can, the pieces of you fracturing from within as they crumble like pillars, falling to the floor of you in dusty chaos that brings only instability.

Thread by thread you undo, delicate fragments of your being splintering and dispersing within, falling like fragile petals, drifting to the depths of your core in a silent ballet of disintegration.

A soft, fading melody of dissolution plays, leaving behind a gentle dust of memories.

Of him. Frankie.

How once, a long time ago, he'd been just a neighbour. A man you'd stare at through blinds when he’d been on the front lawn. One who made you laugh at the mailbox.

Now, he's a man you’re staring at through splintered shards of your mirror—one you're in love with. One who had saved you.

"We should go," he suggests, breaking the silence with a gentle tone. Adding something akin to not safe.

His words don’t absolve it, not prompting your arms to release from your waist. A part of you, distant and desperate for control, somewhat fearing whether your knees will buckle if you let go.

If you slowly pry finger by finger whether you'll shatter, break—

"Hey, it's okay..."

Your mouth hangs open. Anger rising, balling up and clog in your throat as fingers grasp and crumple his shirt until it's a tight ball in your hands. Horrible, bone-wracking cries washing through you—like you’re being drowned—all uncontrollable as you attempt to mouth the word, "Why?"

But you know, just as his wide-brown eyes do.

Colombia.

Colombia had followed him home.

an: I can’t say a gift as that is mean, but @joelsgreenflannel likes angst and so here. 😂

[kat-thepoet]

Veins of Violet

Logan Howlett x Fem!reader

Part 4: Under the surface

A/N: Hello guys! I hope you guys are enjoying these chapters! Don't forget to like and follow for more. Okay Byeee 🩵

Previous Chapters ☞ HERE ☜

4.5k words

As I looked at Adam, I quickly passed by him, not wanting to deal with him. He followed me outside, where Logan and Wade were standing. He held onto one of my shoulders to turn me around, and I punched him in the nose. " How many times do I have to tell you to leave me alone?!" I yelled at him, feeling fury in my fists. "Please Violet! You never let me explain what truly happened." he yelled, trying to get me to listen. Wade and Logan came to my defense. 

"Didn't I tell you to stay away from her?" Logan said it with a serious tone. 

"Look at who we have here." Said Wade as he uncrossed his hands. 

"If it isn't the dumb fuck who cheated on my best friend," said Wade, grabbing one of his guns and pointing it at his head.

" I don't want any trouble," said Adam, trying to control his breathing. 

"leave now. I never want to see you again." I said, trying not to cry.

"But Vi-" 

"Go!" I yelled, tears brewing in my eyes. 

He walked away, going back to the strip club.

I covered my face with my hands as I silently sobbed. Wade held me in his arms as I cried.

At that moment, Violet couldn't see Logan's face. But it was filled with rage and anger as he wondered to himself why someone would cheat on a nice girl. 

A few moments passed, and I was crying until we heard a car honk. We all looked up to see what that noise was, and it was Dopinder in his taxi, smiling and waving at us. I wiped my eyes as Wade let me go. 

"Are you ok now, Violet?" Wade asks as we walk to the taxi. 

"Yes, I'm ok now. Thanks Wade." I lied as I gave him a tired smile. 

We got in the taxi and drove home. As I looked at the stars, all I could see was Adams face. The crying made me tired, which made me sleep the entire way home. 

I woke up on my bed. My body feeling relaxed from the needed nap. Wait, how did I even get in bed? As I collected my thoughts, I just remembered sleeping in the taxi, and that's about it. As I looked up at the ceiling, memories started flowing in again—all of Adam. Why, of all places, did I see him there? Why is he still in my life after what he did to me? What did he mean by I never let him explain what truly happened? And why, after all this time, do I still love him? These thoughts in my head made my heartache unbearable. I started to cry, trying to muffle my mouth with my upper sleeve, attempting not to make any noise. After a few minutes of crying, I checked my phone, and I had a message from Vanessa. 

Vanessa: Hey, babe. Wade told me what happened. Want to talk about it? 

I looked at the time, and it was 8 p.m. I didn't feel like going out, so I decided tomorrow would be better. 

Violet: Want to grab coffee tmr at our spot in the morning? 

As I waited for her response, I walked to the bathroom to wash my face. I turned on the light and closed the door. I looked at myself in the mirror, and my eyes were puffy from crying. I giggled at myself for how silly I looked. I turned on the faucet to get cold water and washed my face, trying not to get the water all over the sink. After, I quickly washed my teeth because I had a weird taste in my mouth. I then combed my hair and decided to take a shower, so I walked out to get some of my clothes. As I walked to my room, I accidentally bumped into Logan. 

"Sorry, Logan, I didn't see you there." I said, in my post nap voice. 

"No worries." he said as he walked to the kitchen. 

I quickly headed into my room, grabbed my clothes, and headed to the bathroom. 

I took a long shower, trying to collect my thoughts. About Adam, about Logan, about everything. As the water hit my head, I couldn't help but feel my heart flutter at the thought that Adam was still wanting me after all this time. But at the same time, something was growing inside of me when I thought of Logan. When he was so protective of me, even though he didn't think I noticed, I couldn't wonder if he cared for me. Adam, on the other hand, we have history. I fell in love with him the first day I worked at the flower shop. He was getting flowers for his mother's grave, and I accompanied him after my shift was over. It was random, but it was lovely. My family's gravestones are across the country, so it was nice going to see one, even though she wasn't anything to me. After that day, he started coming every day to see me. It made me question if he had a job because of how much free time he had. He assured me that I was worth his lunch break. I felt loved and apprenticed. He eventually asked me out, and I said yes. Then he proposed, and I said yes. Until one day, I walked into my apartment after a long day of work. I caught him laying on my couch, and my whore of a roommate was on top of him naked. They didn't know I had walked in, so I closed the door, walked to Vanessa's apartment, and slept there for a week. After I stopped crying, I went to my apartment, burned all her things, and changed the locks. I never saw her again, but I think she got the message. Adam came by the next day and acted like nothing happened. I acted like everything was okay for the sake of our relationship, but I couldn't hold it in. I screamed and yelled at him about how he betrayed me and hurt me. And I kicked him out. Until a few days ago, when I saw him, and now today.

After I did my shower routine, I dried myself with my blue towel, and I put on my small shorts and tank top like I always do. I did my night routine early, and I walked out of the steaming bathroom. Logan was in the living room, his eyes directly on the TV, watching a black-and-white film as he had a beer in his hand. As I put my clothes in my laundry basket, I got a text from Vanessa, which read:

Vanessa: Of course, I'll see you then. Love you 🩷 

I liked her message and headed to the kitchen to make myself something to eat. 

I decided to eat some cereal because I didn't feel like cooking on the stove. I decided to eat in my room, and as I ate, I watched my favorite show, Pretty Little Liars.

I woke up at 3 a.m. to Logan's screams again. This was the second time this week. I decided to check on him, but this time cautiously. I got a glass of water from the kitchen and tiptoed to his room. The door was closed this time, so I opened it carefully, trying to make as little noise as possible. I could see him squirm in his sleep. beams of sweat collecting on his forehead and the sheets scattered on the floor. I carefully walked up to him and took out the glass of water on his nightstand. I could hear his voice tremble. I listened closer to what he was saying. 

"Violet....Vi please," is all I could manage to hear. Why was he saying my name? I thought to myself as I listened closer. "Please," he said, growling. I decided to try something. During my time with Strucker, I had intense training using my powers. I had training about everything—fighting, how to use a gun and knives, and of course, how to manipulate my powers. I got the chance to unlock new abilities such as telekinesis and emotion manipulation. I can float, but I can’t fly; I haven’t practiced that since I escaped Strucker. I can read thoughts, but not that well. It takes me a lot to practice, and lastly, I can heal myself and others. I decided to try something on Logan that I haven't tried on anyone yet. I got close to him and put my hand above his head. I closed my eyes and tried to calm his mind from what was tormenting him. I tried not to see in his mind because that's his business. but all I could manage to see was me on top of him. I removed my hand quickly and wondered to myself what the hell I was doing on top of him. I shook my thoughts and returned my hand to the top of his head again, and I continued to clear his mind. Purple magic glowed from my hand as my eyes started glowing too. I stood there for about a minute until he was in a deep slumber. I covered him in his sheets, and I quickly walked back to my room.

I got up from my bed feeling well-rested after a long, peaceful sleep. A rare sense of calm settled over me as I stretched, savoring the comfort of the morning. Glancing at my phone, I saw that it was already 8:30 a.m. Shit, I thought, suddenly remembering the plans I had with Nessa. I quickly checked the weather app, hoping for good news, and was relieved to see that it was going to be a sunny day. Perfect. I decided on a pink crop top paired with low-rise jeans that hugged my figure in all the right places. The outfit made me feel confident, accentuating my curves while still being casual and comfortable. Feeling inspired, I straightened my hair until it fell sleek and smooth around my shoulders, then applied some makeup. I wanted to look pretty today, and why not? Pretty day, pretty thoughts. I smiled at my reflection, feeling good about how the day was starting.

Grabbing my purse, I headed out of my bedroom, ready to start the day. Just as I was about to leave, Logan stepped out of the bathroom, fresh from his shower. His damp hair clung to his forehead, and steam still curled around his skin, which glistened in the morning light. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, just like yesterday, his muscular chest and arms on full display. I paused for a moment, caught off guard by his presence, but quickly composed myself. 

"Morning," I said with a casual smile, trying not to let my eyes linger on his toned physique.

Logan nodded in response, his gaze meeting mine briefly before he looked away, running a hand through his wet hair. "Morning," he replied, his voice still a bit rough from sleep.

I could feel a slight flutter in my chest, but I pushed it aside, reminding myself that today was about spending time with Nessa, not getting lost in whatever complicated feelings Logan stirred in me. With a final glance, I turned and headed for the door, determined to focus on the day ahead. 

I walked out the door and headed to Vanessa's apartment, which was just across from Al's. Before I could knock, I heard Logan's voice booming behind me.

"Vi, I mean, Violet."

I turned around to see him striding closer, still in nothing but that towel. My eyes couldn't help but linger on the way the fabric clung to his hips, the muscles in his chest and arms still glistening slightly from the shower. Does this man ever bring clothes with him when he takes a shower? I thought, trying to keep my expression neutral.

"Yes, Logan, what is it?" I asked, trying to compose myself and not let my thoughts wander too far.

He paused, as if choosing his words carefully. "How are you feeling? You know, you seemed pretty hurt last night." His voice was softer now, the concern in his tone almost surprising as he looked at me with those intense eyes, waiting for my response.

I managed a small smile, appreciating the unexpected gesture. "I'm better. Thanks for asking," I replied, my voice steady.

He held my gaze for a moment longer, then gave a slight nod. "Good," he said, his voice low and gruff, the usual edge returning to it. Then, without another word, he turned around and headed back toward our apartment. 

As he walked, my eyes were immediately drawn to his bare back, where the powerful muscles were fully exposed, flexing with each step. The defined ridges of his shoulder blades moved fluidly under his skin, a testament to years of battle and survival. His broad, muscular back tapered down to a narrow waist, where a towel hung low on his hips, barely clinging to the chiseled lines of his body. The sight of him, all raw strength and rugged masculinity, made my breath catch. His skin was tanned and slightly damp, catching the light in a way that highlighted every contour, every hard edge of muscle.

Logan moved with a kind of animal grace, his every step radiating confidence and command. The towel wrapped around his waist did little to hide the curve of his powerful lower back and the muscles that stretched down to his legs. His broad shoulders and thick, muscular arms swung slightly as he walked, each movement accentuating the strength in his body. As he reached the door, I could see the taut lines of his side, the way his abs flexed and tightened, leading down to the sharp V of his hips. There was something primal about the way he carried himself, an aura of untamed power that was both intimidating and undeniably attractive. My eyes lingered on him longer than I intended, tracing the defined muscles that seemed to ripple with every breath he took. His back, broad and strong, was a landscape of hardened muscle and sinew, each ridge and valley a testament to the life he’d lived. The towel, hanging dangerously low, only added to the magnetic pull he seemed to have on me.

As he finally stepped into the apartment, the door closing behind him, I was left standing there, my heart racing and my body humming with a mix of emotions I couldn’t quite name. Was it desire? Lust? Something deeper? I wasn’t sure, but the sight of Logan like this had ignited something in me, something I wasn’t ready to confront but couldn’t easily ignore either.

I cleared my throat and knocked on Nessa's door, trying to shake off the lingering thoughts of Logan. The door swung open, and to my surprise, there stood Wade, clad in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist.

Does no one wear any clothes around here? I thought to myself, trying not to roll my eyes.

Wade grinned at me, clearly enjoying my reaction. "Well, well, if it isn't my favorite person. Come to join the towel club, Vi? We're offering exclusive memberships today."

I shook my head, a smirk playing on my lips despite myself. "Does everyone around here have something against clothing, or is this just your way of welcoming guests?"

Wade laughed, leaning casually against the doorframe. "What can I say? It's a lifestyle choice. Less laundry, more freedom. You should try it sometime."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "I'll pass, thanks. Is Vanessa here, or are you the only one gracing us with your... wardrobe choices today?"

"She's in the shower," Wade replied with a wink. "But you're welcome to come in and wait. I'll even put some pants on if you're lucky."

I sighed, stepping inside despite the absurdity of the situation. "Pants would be great, Wade. Thanks."

I sat on his couch, politely declining his offer for something to drink. Wade, now thankfully dressed in a pair of sweatpants, flopped down beside me with his usual playful grin.

“So, Vi,” Wade began, leaning back with his arms stretched across the back of the couch, “how’s it been living with our favorite grumpy Canadian? I mean, Logan’s not exactly the chatty roommate type, right? Any claws-out moments recently?”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “No claws-out moments, thankfully. It’s been… interesting. He’s quiet, keeps to himself mostly. But he’s not as bad as you’d think. We’ve had a few conversations that weren’t half-bad. He’s actually kind of considerate, in his own gruff way.”

Wade raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Considerate, huh? That’s a new one. I mean, I knew he had a heart under all that muscle and brooding, but still… surprising.”

I shrugged, smiling slightly. “Yeah, he’s got his moments. It’s not all grunts and growls.”

Wade smirked, leaning in closer. “So, any... other moments I should know about? You know, late-night, steamy encounters? Maybe you’re rubbing off on him in ways I haven’t considered?”

I rolled my eyes, giving him a light shove. “Wade, seriously? No, nothing like that. We’re just roommates. Besides, I’m not sure Logan’s the type to ‘rub off’ on anyone.”

Wade laughed, clearly amused by his own teasing. “Fair enough, fair enough. But if anything does happen, you know who to call. I’ll be your number one cheerleader.”

I shook my head, laughing along with him. “Thanks, Wade. I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Vanessa walked out of the bathroom, fully dressed and looking refreshed. She smiled at me and asked, “Ready to go?”

“Yep,” I replied, standing up and grabbing my purse. We waved a quick goodbye to Wade, who was already engrossed in whatever ridiculousness he was up to on his phone, and headed out the door.

As we walked to the coffee shop, Vanessa and I made small talk, catching up on the little things—work, what we’d been up to, and the usual gossip about people we both knew. It was nice, the kind of easy conversation that felt natural and comforting.

The morning air was cool, with just a hint of warmth from the sun beginning to break through the clouds. The streets were busy but not overwhelming, and there was something about the simplicity of the day that made me feel at ease.

When we arrived at the coffee shop, we slipped into our usual routine. We ordered our drinks—Vanessa’s usual latte and my iced coffee—and found our way to our usual spot by the window. It was a cozy corner where we could watch the world go by while we talked.

As we sat in our usual spot at the coffee shop, Vanessa’s eyes softened with concern. She took a slow sip of her latte before leaning in closer. “Vi, I know it’s not easy to talk about, but Wade told me what happened last night… with Adam. Are you okay?”

I took a deep breath, feeling a lump form in my throat as I recalled the encounter. “It was… intense,” I admitted, setting my iced coffee down. “I tried to just walk past him, you know? Like, I didn’t want to deal with any of it. But he followed me outside, and… God, I just lost it. I punched him, Nessa. I was so angry.”

Vanessa nodded, her expression understanding. “He deserved it after everything he put you through. What did he even want?”

I sighed, rubbing my temples as I tried to keep the emotions at bay. “He wanted to explain, to tell me his side of the story. Like it would make any difference now. He begged me to listen, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to hear any of it. I told him to leave, and when he wouldn’t… Logan and Wade stepped in.”

Vanessa reached across the table, taking my hand in hers. “I’m glad they were there for you. It sounds like it was really overwhelming.”

“It was,” I admitted, my voice trembling slightly. “Wade even pulled out his gun, ready to… I don’t know what he was going to do, but Adam got the message. He left, but not before trying one last time to talk to me. I just… I couldn’t handle it. I told him to go, and when he finally did, I broke down. Wade held me while I cried.”

Vanessa’s eyes filled with sympathy as she squeezed my hand. “Vi, you’ve been through so much with him. It’s no wonder you reacted the way you did. But I’m proud of you for standing your ground, for not letting him manipulate you.”

I nodded, tears welling up as I tried to blink them away. “It was just so hard, Nessa. Seeing him again, hearing him try to justify what he did… it brought back all those feelings I thought I’d buried. But you’re right—I didn’t let him manipulate me. I stood up for myself.”

“And that’s huge,” Vanessa said, her voice full of support. “You’ve come a long way, Vi. Don’t forget that. And you’re not alone in this. You have Wade, me.....and Logan. We’ve got your back.”

I smiled through the tears, feeling a wave of gratitude. “Thanks, Nessa. It helps to know I’m not alone.”

“You never are,” she assured me, giving my hand one last squeeze before letting go. “And remember, you don’t owe Adam anything. Not an explanation, not forgiveness. Nothing.”

I nodded, feeling a bit more at peace. “You’re right. I just need to focus on moving forward.”

“That’s exactly it,” Vanessa said, her smile warm and reassuring. “And if you ever need to talk, or just get your mind off things, I’m here.”

I returned her smile, feeling a weight lift from my shoulders. “Thanks, Nessa. I really appreciate that.”

With that, we shifted the conversation to lighter topics, letting the warmth of our friendship push away the lingering shadows of the past.

As we walked back to our building, Vanessa linked her arm through mine, her expression thoughtful. “You know,” she began, a hint of excitement in her voice, “I was thinking… maybe we could have a game night tonight. Just the four of us—Wade, Logan, you, and me. It could be a good distraction, something fun to take your mind off things.”

I glanced at her, surprised but warmed by the suggestion. “A game night?”

“Yeah,” she nodded enthusiastically. “We’ll order some food, maybe get a few drinks, and just relax. No drama, no stress. Just good company and a few laughs.”

I smiled, the idea of a low-key evening with friends sounding exactly like what I needed. “That actually sounds really nice, Nessa. I could use a night like that.”

“Great!” Vanessa beamed, squeezing my arm. “I'll knock on your door around 7 once everything is set up. I’m sure Wade will be up for it, and I can convince Logan to join in too.”

I chuckled, imagining Logan’s gruff reaction to being roped into a game night. “Yeah, good luck with that. I don't think he seems like the game night type. But honestly, it sounds like fun.”

“Perfect,” Vanessa said, clearly pleased. “This is going to be just what we need. A night to unwind and just enjoy ourselves.”

As we reached the building, I felt a sense of anticipation mixed with relief. After the emotional rollercoaster of the past 24 hours, the thought of spending an evening with people who cared about me, and Logan, just having fun, was exactly what I needed.

“Thanks for suggesting this, Nessa,” I said as we entered the building. “I really appreciate it.”

“Anything for you,” she replied with a smile. “Now let’s go get ready. Tonight’s going to be a blast.”

A little while later, I was in the bathroom, putting the finishing touches on my makeup and hair, when I heard a knock at the door. My heart skipped a beat as I realized it must be Vanessa. I yelled a Logan to open the door. I quickly quieted my movements, curious to hear how Logan would handle her invitation.

The door creaked open, and I heard Logan’s deep voice greeting Vanessa. “Hey.”

“Hey, Logan,” Vanessa’s voice was bright and friendly as always. “Is Vi around?”

“She’s in the bathroom,” Logan replied, his tone neutral. “You need something?”

“Well, actually, I wanted to talk to you,” Vanessa said, a hint of playfulness in her voice. “I’m planning a little game night tonight—just the four of us, you, me, Wade, and Vi. We could all use a break, and I think it’d be fun.”

There was a brief pause, and I could almost picture Logan standing there, arms crossed, considering the proposal. I held my breath, waiting for his response.

“I’m not really the game night type,” Logan finally said, his tone gruff but not entirely dismissive.

“Oh, come on,” Vanessa coaxed, clearly not willing to take no for an answer. “It’s not about the games, really. It’s just about hanging out, having some fun, maybe a few drinks. I promise, nothing too crazy.”

Another pause, and then I heard Logan sigh, almost as if he knew he was going to give in. 

“Alright. But only because I’m guessing Violet wants this.”

Vanessa laughed softly. “She does. And so do I. So, you’ll join us?”

“Yeah, I’ll join,” Logan replied, a reluctant but resigned tone in his voice. “What time?”

“In like an hour,” Vanessa said, sounding pleased. "See you then?”

“See you then,” Logan confirmed, and I could hear the door closing as Vanessa left.

I smiled to myself in the mirror, feeling a sense of warmth spread through me. Logan agreeing to join us, even if reluctantly, meant more to me than I cared to admit. It was a small gesture, but it showed that he was willing to be a part of something, to be there for me—and that was enough.

As Vanessa left the apartment, a thought crossed her mind—Could Logan be into Violet? She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to his reluctance than just being anti-social. Determined to find proof, she decided tonight’s game night would be the perfect opportunity to observe. If there’s something there. She thought with a sly smile. I’ll figure it out.

I stepped out of the bathroom, smoothing down my outfit, and noticed Logan standing by the door, his usual stoic expression in place.

“What did Vanessa want?” I asked, curious.

Logan glanced at me, his gaze lingering for a moment before he answered. “She’s planning a game night tonight. Asked if I’d join.”

I raised an eyebrow, surprised. “And… what did you say?”

He shrugged slightly, his tone casual. “I said I’d be there.”

"Ok cool" I said, trying not to smile.

An hour passed and I waited for Logan to get ready, and when he emerged from his room, I had to do a double take. He was wearing blue jeans that fit him perfectly, paired with black boots and a red flannel shirt that hugged his broad shoulders and muscular chest. He looked like a hot lumberjack straight out of a fantasy—rugged, strong, and effortlessly handsome.

I couldn’t help but feel a flutter of appreciation, but I quickly pushed it aside as we headed out the door. Together, we made our way to Vanessa's apartment, where the night was sure to get interesting.

Part 5: Living in the moment

[estellan0vella]

Cherry - Ryomen Sukuna AU Word Count: 6.9K Content Warnings: Death, Guns, Violence, blood Masterlist for Eras AU

The thrum of bass pulses through the walls of Sukuna's club, a steady heartbeat that syncs with the electric energy of the night. Neon lights flicker and dance over the crowded floor, casting vibrant hues across faces lost in the music. 

The rhythm of the music reverberates through your body, each beat syncing with your steady pulse as you lean against the polished mahogany bar. You exude a confidence that commands respect, your every gesture deliberate and controlled. The dress you wear, crafted from the finest red silk, clings to your form.

The ruby necklace around your neck catches the light, casting tiny red reflections that dance across your collarbone. Each piece of jewellery is a statement, a testament to your status and power in this underworld kingdom. The cigarette between your lips burns steadily, a trail of smoke curling upwards, adding to the smoky allure that surrounds you.

Your signature red lipstick glistens under the dim lights, staining the cigarette between your lips, the colour earning you the moniker "Cherry" among those who know you—and fear you.

Sukuna may be the kingpin, the ruler of this underworld, but you're no mere consort. Your presence demands respect, not just because you're his lover, but because you've earned your place. You can handle yourself, and everyone knows it. Tonight, though, Sukuna is away handling business, leaving you to watch over the club.

Your eyes scan the room, always alert, always aware, even as you sip on the cherry wine Sukuna specially imported for you. The crowd is thick tonight, the air electric with anticipation as they wait for the next performance. You take one last drag of your cigarette, exhale a plume of smoke, and extinguish it in a nearby ashtray.

You finish your drink and set the glass down, the clink lost in the surrounding noise. Your stilettos click against the marble floor as you stride toward the stage. The club's manager gives you a nod as you pass, a signal that everything is set. You make your way to the back, slipping through the velvet curtains and into the dimly lit backstage area.

The stage manager hands you a microphone, and you take a deep breath, feeling the familiar weight and cool metal in your hand. The crowd hushes as the lights dim, the anticipation palpable as they wait for their Queen. With a sultry smile, you step out onto the stage, the spotlight capturing your every move.

As the first notes of the piano fill the air, you begin to sing. Your voice is smooth and intoxicating, weaving through the melody with practised ease. The audience is mesmerized, their eyes glued to you, every word and note wrapping around them like a spell. This is your domain, and you revel in the power it gives you. The song is a slow, haunting ballad, a perfect showcase for your vocal prowess and emotional depth.

The music crescendos, your voice rising with it, commanding the attention of everyone in the room. The neon lights cast an ethereal glow over the audience, reflecting off their entranced faces. The song comes to an end, and for a moment, there's silence, the kind that holds a world of unspoken appreciation. Then, the applause erupts, filling the club with thunderous approval. You smile, taking a gracious bow before stepping off the stage.

As you return to the bar, you notice a group of men at a table near the back. They're not clapping, not even smiling. Their eyes are hard, their postures tense. Rival gang members, trying to blend in but sticking out like wolves in a flock of sheep. You can see the tension in their shoulders, the barely concealed weapons under their jackets. They don't belong here.

With a slow, calculated move, you finish your drink and set the glass down, the clink lost in the surrounding noise. Your stilettos click against the marble floor as you stride towards the back office. Inside, you open a hidden drawer, revealing an array of firearms. You choose a sleek, compact pistol, feeling its familiar weight in your hand. A quick check of the ammo, and you're ready.

The music fades as you step back into the main room, your senses sharpening. The rival members have spread out, moving towards key points. Your heart races, but your mind is clear. You're not just Cherry, the glamorous moll of Ryomen Sukuna. You're deadly, and you're about to remind everyone why.

One of them makes the first move, pulling out a gun and shouting a command. The crowd panics, screams rising as people scramble for cover. You don't hesitate. In a fluid motion, you raise your pistol and fire. The first shot hits its mark, dropping the man before he can fire a single round. The club erupts into chaos, but you're a storm of precision and fury.

You weave through the terrified patrons, your heels clicking with each step, a sharp contrast to the chaos around you. Another rival member appears, his eyes widening as he recognizes you. He hesitates, and that's his mistake. You take him down with a single shot, your aim impeccable as the bullet makes its mark between his eyes.

The others are more cautious now, trying to regroup. You use the confusion to your advantage, taking cover behind a pillar and assessing the situation. There are five left, moving towards the VIP section. You dart out, firing two shots in quick succession. One hits a man in the shoulder, the other in the leg, incapacitating them.

The remaining three try to flank you, thinking they can corner you. They underestimate you. You duck behind the bar, grabbing a bottle and smashing it for a makeshift weapon. As one comes around the corner, you slam the jagged glass into his neck, dropping him instantly. Another comes from the opposite side, but you're ready, shooting him in the knee and then the chest.

The last one is the biggest, clearly the leader. He's smarter, staying back and using the crowd as cover. You spot him across the room, near the DJ booth. He's aiming at you, but you don't flinch. With a calculated move, you dive, rolling across the floor and coming up firing. Your bullet hits his gun, knocking it out of his hand. Before he can react, you're on your feet, closing the distance.

He tries to swing at you, but you dodge, your movements swift and precise. You land a hard kick to his gut, making him stagger. He grabs a chair, swinging it wildly. You duck, feeling the air rush above your head. You counter with a high kick, your stiletto connecting with his jaw. He goes down, dazed and bleeding.

You stand over him, gun trained on his forehead. "This is Sukuna's territory," you say, your voice cold and steady. "Tell your boss if he tries this again, he won't have anyone left to send back." The man nods frantically, his fear palpable. You lower your gun, satisfied.

As the police sirens wail in the distance, you holster your weapon and straighten your dress. The club is a mess, but you're unscathed, your lipstick is still perfect. You walk back to the bar, grabbing yourself your bottle of wine, the respect in the eyes of the staff and patrons unmistakable. 

You're Cherry, and you've just reminded everyone that you're not just Sukuna's lover. You're a force to be reckoned with, heels and all.

Later, as you sit in Sukuna's opulent office, sipping from your wine bottle, the door creaks open. Sukuna strides in with his characteristic confidence, his sharp eyes taking in the scene. A smirk plays on his lips. "I heard you had some fun tonight," he says, his voice laced with pride and amusement.

You smile, leaning back in the plush leather chair. "Just another night in the life, love."

He crosses the room with purposeful strides, pulling you into a fierce kiss, his hand tangling in your hair. When he pulls back, his eyes are dark with admiration. "You're amazing, dollface."

You grin, wiping a smudge of your maple cherry lipstick from his mouth with your thumb. "I know."

"You know, my sweet Cherry, it's times like these that remind me why I chose you," he murmurs, his voice a low, seductive rumble. "You're more than just a pretty face."

You chuckle softly, leaning into his touch. "I'd hope so, considering the trouble we've seen together."

He smirks, his gaze intense and unwavering. "You didn't just handle it. You owned it. This place, these people—they're all under our control because of you."

You tilt your head, playful and confident. "And because of you, my king. We make a hell of a team."

He pulls you closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "A deadly team," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "And tonight, you were magnificent."

Your heart races, not from fear but from the thrill of his words. You slide your hand up his chest, feeling the strong muscles beneath his shirt. "I had to keep our empire safe, didn't I?"

He chuckles, the sound dark and alluring. "And you did it in style, as always."

You feel his hand on your waist, guiding you to sit on the edge of the desk. He stands between your legs, his presence dominating yet comforting. "Tell me, dollface," he says, his eyes locked onto yours, "what did it feel like, taking them down?"

You smile, a slow, dangerous curve of your lips. "It felt powerful. Like I was in complete control. They thought they could walk in here and challenge us, but I showed them who really runs this place."

Sukuna's eyes darken with desire and pride. "You're incredible, dollface. And you're mine."

The possessiveness in his voice sends a shiver down your spine. You lean in, your lips inches from his. "Always yours, Ryo. Just as you're mine."

He closes the distance, kissing you fiercely. The world outside might be chaotic, but here, in this moment, there's only the two of you. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as his grip on your waist tightens. The kiss is a battle of dominance, each of you pushing and pulling, testing boundaries and revelling in the power struggle.

When you finally break apart, both of you are breathless. Sukuna's eyes are filled with a mix of lust and admiration. "You're my queen, dollface. Never forget that."

You smirk, your fingers tracing his jawline. "And you're my king. Together, we're unstoppable."

He nods, his gaze never wavering. "Tonight proved that. But it also reminded me how dangerous this life is. I need you to be careful."

You raise an eyebrow, amused. "Careful? Where's the fun in that?"

He growls softly, a hint of frustration and amusement in his eyes. "Just promise me you'll watch your back. I can't lose you."

Your expression softens, and you press a gentle kiss to his lips. "I promise, Ryo. But remember, I'm not some damsel in distress. I can handle myself."

He smirks, his hand cupping your cheek. "I know, dollface. That's why I love you."

You smile as you lean into his touch. "And I love you, too. Now, what do you say we get out of here? I think we both could use a little... downtime."

His eyes glint with mischief. "I like the way you think. Let's go home."

You slide off the desk, hand in hand with Sukuna, ready to face whatever comes next. The two of you make your way through the club, your presence commanding the room as you pass. The staff and patrons watch with a mixture of respect and awe, fully aware of the power you wield together.

Outside, the cool night air is a refreshing contrast to the heated energy of the club. Sukuna's car, a sleek black machine that screams luxury and danger, awaits you. He opens the door for you with a flourish, a playful smirk on his lips. "Your chariot, my queen."

You chuckle, slipping into the passenger seat. "Why, thank you, my king."

As Sukuna slides into the driver's seat, you can't help but steal glances at him. The streetlights cast a soft glow on his sharp features, highlighting the intensity in his eyes. You feel a thrill of excitement, a mix of love and admiration for the man beside you.

The drive home is a silent yet intimate journey, the two of you content in each other's presence. The city lights blur as Sukuna navigates the streets with ease, his hand reaching over to rest on your thigh, a reassuring and possessive touch.

When you arrive at your lavish penthouse, Sukuna parks the car and leads you inside. The moment the door closes behind you, he pulls you into a fierce embrace, his lips finding yours with a hunger that sets your heart racing. You respond with equal fervour, your hands tangling in his hair as you lose yourselves in the passion of the moment.

He breaks the kiss, his breath hot against your lips. "You're everything to me, dollface. Never forget that."

Your eyes lock onto his, the intensity of his gaze sending shivers down your spine. "I know, Ryo. And you're everything to me."

He scoops you up in his arms, carrying you towards the bedroom. You laugh, a joyful sound that echoes through the penthouse. "You're impossible, you know that?"

He grins, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "And you love every minute of it."

You do. With Sukuna, every moment is an adventure, a blend of danger and love that keeps you on the edge of your seat. As he lays you down on the bed, you pull him close, your lips meeting in another searing kiss.

The night is yours, a sanctuary from the chaos of the world outside. Here, in Sukuna's arms, you find solace and strength. Together, you're an unstoppable force, ready to face whatever challenges come your way. But in your home, in this moment, you and Sukuna are simply together, entwined in a love that's as fierce and unbreakable as the empire you've built together.

The night in your penthouse feels endless, a blur of passion and whispered promises. But all good things must come to an end, and with dawn, reality intrudes. The underworld doesn't rest, and neither do its enemies.

In the 1950s, Chicago was a city that never sleeps, a sprawling metropolis where the shadows are long and the danger is ever-present. You and Sukuna have built your empire on the edges of this world, carving out a kingdom in the neon glow of nightclubs and the whispered secrets of back alleys.

The morning light filters through the blinds as you lie entwined in Sukuna's arms, the warmth of his body a comforting shield against the harsh world outside. You trace the lines of his face, memorizing every detail, knowing that each day could be your last. He stirs, eyes opening to meet yours with a soft smile.

"Morning, dollface," he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep.

"Morning, Ryo," you reply, your heart swelling with love for this man who is both your protector and your partner in crime.

He pulls you closer, his lips brushing against your forehead. "We need to be careful today. Word on the street is that some of our rivals are planning something big."

You nod, your mind already racing with possibilities. "We'll handle it, like we always do."

Sukuna smiles, but there's a hint of worry in his eyes. "Just stay close to me, alright?"

You reach up to kiss him, a slow, lingering touch that speaks of your unbreakable bond. "Always, my king."

The weeks pass in a blur of meetings and preparations. Your network of informants keeps you updated on the movements of your enemies, and you and Sukuna make plans to counter any threats. 

The two of you spent most of your time in your penthouse, the safest place for you to be while there were threats against your life but the King and Queen of the Underworld had to show their faces ever so often. Show their power and status.

As night falls, you dress in your finest once again, a vision in red silk with your signature ruby necklace. Sukuna, in his tailored suit with a red silk tie, looks every bit the kingpin, his presence commanding and dangerous. Together, you make your way to the club, the heart of your empire.

The club is bustling, the thrum of bass and the chatter of patrons filling the air. You scan the crowd, always alert, always aware. Sukuna stays close, his hand resting possessively on your waist. There's a sense of foreboding, a whisper of something dark and deadly lurking just out of sight.

The first shots ring out as you're crossing the dance floor. Chaos erupts as people scream and dive for cover. You and Sukuna react instantly, your guns drawn as you move in perfect sync, cutting through the crowd with lethal precision.

The attackers are relentless, their numbers overwhelming. You take down as many as you can, your bullets finding their marks with deadly accuracy. But there are too many, and for everyone you drop, another takes his place.

In the midst of the chaos, you catch a glimpse of Sukuna fighting off two men at once. His strength and skill are unmatched, but even he can't hold out forever. Your heart pounds in your chest as you fight your way towards him, desperate to reach his side.

A bullet tears through your shoulder, the pain searing and sharp. You stagger but keep moving, your determination driving you forward. Sukuna sees you falter and his eyes blaze with fury. He fights with renewed ferocity, cutting down anyone who stands in his way.

You finally reach him, your breath coming in ragged gasps. "Ryo," you manage to say, your voice trembling with pain and fear.

His eyes lock onto yours, and in that moment, everything else fades away. "Stay with me, Cherry. We can make it out of this."

The pair of you sprint from the club, heading for Sukuna's car. Not hesitating to shoot any man who pursues you from inside the club.

The street is chaos, sirens wailing in the distance as police cars converge on the scene. You and Sukuna slide into the car, bullets whizzing past you as you peel away from the curb, tyres screeching on the pavement.

Sukuna's driving is precise, his focus unwavering as he navigates the maze of streets, the city lights blurring into streaks of colour. But the police are relentless, their pursuit dogged and determined.

You glance at Sukuna, his jaw clenched in determination as he pushes the car to its limits. "We need to lose them," you call over the roar of the engine.

Sukuna nods, his eyes scanning the road ahead. He takes a sharp turn, narrowly avoiding a collision with an oncoming vehicle. The police cars follow, their sirens blaring, but you and Sukuna are one step ahead.

You duck down in your seat as Sukuna swerves into a narrow alley, the walls closing in around you. The police cars hesitate, unsure if they can follow. It's all the time you need. Sukuna guns the engine, the car lurching forward as you burst out of the alley and onto a deserted street. The police are nowhere in sight, left behind in the maze of the city.

You and Sukuna share a triumphant grin, the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. "We did it," you breathe, relief flooding through you.

Sukuna squeezes your hand, his grip firm and reassuring but his eyes flit to the bullet wound in your shoulder. "We always do. But right now, we need to get you patched up,"

You nod, gritting your teeth against the pain. "We can't risk going to a hospital. They'll be swarming with cops."

Sukuna's jaw clenches with determination. "I know a guy. He owes me a favour."

You trust Sukuna implicitly, his connections running deep in the criminal underworld. You lean back in your seat, trying to ignore the throbbing ache in your shoulder as Sukuna speeds through the deserted streets.

Minutes later, you pull up outside a nondescript building, the windows dark and the entrance hidden in shadow. Sukuna leads you inside, his hand steady on your back as he guides you through the dimly lit corridors.

The man Sukuna knows is waiting for you in a makeshift medical room, his face hidden beneath a surgical mask. He nods in recognition as Sukuna approaches, his movements swift and efficient as he begins to tend to your wound.

You hiss in pain as the man cleans and stitches the bullet wound, but you refuse to cry out. You're Cherry, after all, and pain is just another obstacle to overcome in this dangerous world you inhabit.

Once the man is finished, Sukuna hands him a wad of cash, his expression grim. "Keep this between us," he says, his voice low and menacing.

The man nods, slipping the money into his pocket. "Of course, boss. You know I'm good for it."

You and Sukuna leave the building, the night air cool against your skin as you step back into the car. Sukuna's grip on the wheel is tight, his knuckles white with tension.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice laced with concern.

You nod, forcing a reassuring smile despite the pain throbbing in your shoulder. "I'll be fine. We've faced worse together, haven't we?"

Sukuna's expression softens, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of admiration and love. "We have. And we always come out on top."

"So I'm assuming now we plan revenge?" You ask with a sly smirk. 

Sukuna returns your smirk, the fire of determination burning bright in his eyes. "Oh, you can count on it, dollface. Those bastards will pay for what they've done."

You lean back in your seat, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins despite the pain in your shoulder. "Good," you say, your voice low and dangerous. "Because I'm not done with them yet."

Sukuna nods, his jaw set with determination. "We'll hit them where it hurts. They'll regret ever crossing us."

The days following the attack are a whirlwind of planning and preparation. You and Sukuna call upon your most trusted allies, gathering your gang for a meeting in the depths of your penthouse. The atmosphere is tense, the air thick with the promise of vengeance.

Sukuna stands at the head of the table, his presence commanding. "They thought they could walk into our territory and challenge us," he begins, his voice steady and cold. "They thought wrong. We're going to remind them who really runs this city."

You stand beside him, your shoulder bandaged but your resolve unwavering. "We won't just defend our empire. We're going to take the fight to them. Every last one of those bastards will pay for what they did."

The room fills with murmurs of agreement, the loyalty of your gang unshakable. Plans are made, weapons distributed, and alliances solidified. The night is long, but by the end, a clear strategy is in place. You and Sukuna will lead the charge, a united front against those who dared to cross you.

That night, you and Sukuna drive through the darkened streets of Chicago, the city lights casting eerie shadows on the buildings. Your destination is a rival gang's hideout, a nondescript warehouse on the outskirts of the city. Your gang follows in a convoy of black cars, each vehicle filled with armed men and women ready for battle.

You arrive under the cover of darkness, the warehouse looming ahead like a fortress. Sukuna gives the signal, and your gang moves into position, surrounding the building. You and Sukuna lead the charge, your guns drawn and ready.

The attack is swift and brutal. You burst through the doors, gunfire echoing through the warehouse as you and your gang take down anyone who stands in your way. The rival gang is caught off guard, their defences crumbling under the onslaught.

You move with precision, your every shot finding its mark. Sukuna is a force of nature beside you, his strength and skill unmatched. Together, you cut through the enemy ranks, leaving a trail of bodies in your wake. As the last of the rival gang falls, you and Sukuna stand victorious, your gang cheering in triumph. But there's no time to celebrate. This is just the beginning.

The days turn into weeks as you and Sukuna dismantle the rival gang piece by piece. Each attack brings you closer to your ultimate goal: the complete annihilation of those who dared to challenge you. 

The air in the city is thick with tension, and every night brings a new skirmish, a new victory that pushes you closer to the final showdown. Your enemies fall one by one, their operations dismantled, their power crumbling under your relentless assault.

But the police are closing in. The chaos you've wrought has not gone unnoticed, and the city's finest are determined to finally bring you both to justice. They launch raids on your safehouses, arrest your allies, and close in on your operations. But you and Sukuna are always one step ahead, your cunning and resourcefulness keeping you out of their grasp.

The final confrontation comes on a stormy night, the city streets glistening under a relentless downpour, the air thick with tension and the promise of violence. You and Sukuna are on the run, your loyal gang members doing their best to hold off the police but the net is closing in, and you both know you can't run forever.

As you speed through the streets in Sukuna's car, the sirens wail behind you, their lights a chaotic dance of red and blue in the rearview mirror. "We have to lose them," you shout, your voice tight with urgency and fear.

Sukuna's jaw is set with determination as he navigates the narrow alleys and winding streets, the rain hammering the car roof like the drumbeats of war. He swerves and skids, his skill behind the wheel keeping you just ahead of the law. But the police are relentless, their numbers overwhelming. Each turn is a gamble, but Sukuna's fierce resolve never wavers.

The chase leads you to the edge of the city, the dark waters of the river stretching out before you like a maw waiting to swallow you whole. Sukuna's car skids to a halt, the police forming a tightening semicircle around you. There's no escape.

You and Sukuna share a look, the unspoken bond between you stronger than ever. His eyes, stormy with resolve, meet yours, and in that moment, you see everything you need to know. "We go out together," he says, his voice firm and resolute.

"Always," you reply, your heart swelling with fierce love and determination.

You step out of the car, your guns raised, ready to face the inevitable. The rain soaks through your clothes, chilling you to the bone, but you don't flinch. You and Sukuna stand side by side, your fingers intertwining for a brief, final moment. The neon lights of the city reflect off the wet pavement, casting an eerie glow on the scene.

The first shots ring out, the sound deafening in the night. You and Sukuna return fire, your bullets finding their marks even as the police close in. The air fills with the acrid smell of gunpowder, the flashes of gunfire illuminating the rain-soaked streets. The world narrows to the sound of gunfire, the sting of rain on your face, and the warmth of Sukuna's presence beside you.

You feel a bullet tear through your side, the pain searing, but you don't stop. You keep fighting, your love for Sukuna giving you the strength to push through the agony. Beside you, Sukuna is a whirlwind of fury, his every shot a testament to his determination to protect you. His face is set in a grim mask of concentration, every move precise and deadly.

But the odds are against you. The police are too many, their firepower overwhelming. You feel your strength waning, your vision blurring as the blood loss takes its toll. The pain is almost unbearable, but you grit your teeth and keep firing, refusing to give in.

In your final moments, you turn to Sukuna, your eyes locking onto his. "I love you, Ryo," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the chaos.

His eyes soften, his love for you shining through even in the face of death. "I love you too, dollface," he replies, his voice strong and steady. "Forever."

As the world fades to black, you take comfort in the knowledge that you faced your end together, as you always promised you would. Your fingers lace with Sukuna's one last time, a final connection in the midst of the storm as he pulls you close to him. The pain fades, replaced by a sense of peace, and you let go, knowing that you lived and died by his side.

The unrelenting rain continues to pour from the darkened skies, cold and unforgiving, as it washes away the crimson stains on the cobblestone. The solemn figures of police officers stand vigil over the lifeless forms of Cherry and Sukuna, the esteemed and infamous Queen and King of the underworld. Both figures are bathed in a chilling coat of red, their lifeless hands still intertwined, and Cherry's body lying atop Sukuna's, the fallen king's arms enfolded protectively around her. 

Even in death, he cradles her close, as if defiantly shielding her from the world's conclusive acts of cruelty. Their once vibrant eyes, wide open yet now unseeing, reflect the tumultuous sky above, the rain intermingling with blood, each element bearing witness to the tragic tale of their final and valiant stand.

"They were some crazy fuckers, huh?" one officer mutters to his colleagues, his voice tinged with a mix of awe and disbelief.

Another officer, younger and less jaded, stares at the entwined bodies. "Yeah," he agrees softly. "But look at them. Even in death, they didn't let go."

The senior officer shakes his head, rain dripping from the brim of his hat. "Love like that," he says quietly, almost to himself. "It's rare. Even if it was twisted and dark, it was real."

The squad car lights cast eerie, flashing shadows on the walls of the surrounding buildings, illuminating the tragic scene in bursts of red and blue. The officers move to secure the area, but for a moment, they all pause, drawn by the haunting tableau before them.

As the rain washes away the last traces of their life, the officers stand in silent contemplation, each lost in their thoughts. The weight of what they witnessed lingers in the air, a testament to a love that defied the world and left an indelible mark on the annals of crime and passion.

Decades later, the legend of Cherry and Sukuna, the formidable King and Queen of the underworld, continues to capture the imagination of many. In a hallowed lecture hall at an esteemed university, a young, pink-haired criminology professor stands before a rapt audience. 

Behind him, illuminated by the soft glow of the projector screen, hangs a grainy photograph immortalizing the enigmatic duo, their visages frozen in an eternal dance of defiance and allure.

Cherry, a vision of elegance and allure, is adorned in a luxurious satin red dress that clings to her every curve, its neckline plunging daringly low, a scandalous testament to her boldness. A luxurious black fur coat drapes languidly over her shoulders, a symbol of her opulent lifestyle. Around her neck and wrists, dangling from her ears and adorning her fingers, jewels glimmer in the dim light, all encrusted with the finest rubies and diamonds and a cigarette dangles between her red-painted lips.

Beside her, Sukuna cuts a striking figure, a cigarette in his left hand, his presence commanding and formidable. Clad in a meticulously tailored black suit, he exudes an air of effortless sophistication, his fedora perched at a rakish angle atop his head adding a touch of mystery to his already magnetic allure. A crimson silk tie, perfectly knotted, matches Cherry's dress. His fingers, adorned with silver rings encrusted with rubies, trace a possessive arc around Cherry's waist, a silent declaration of their unbreakable bond.

As they gaze into each other's eyes, the intensity of their connection is palpable, a potent blend of desire, admiration, and mutual respect. In that fleeting moment captured by the lens of history, they are more than mere criminals; they are legends in the making, their love and ambition etched into the very fabric of the underworld.

"Cherry and Sukuna," the professor begins, his voice carrying the weight of history. "Two names that struck fear into the hearts of many in the 1950s. They built an empire in the shadows of Chicago, a kingdom of crime and power. But they were more than just criminals. They were lovers, partners, and in many ways, they were inseparable."

The students listen intently, their faces a mix of fascination and awe. The professor continues, "Their love was their greatest strength and their ultimate downfall. In the end, they chose to face their fate together, side by side, just as they had lived. Their story is a tragic one"

He pauses, looking at the photograph. "They say that Cherry and Sukuna's love was so powerful that it transcended the criminal world they inhabited. It was a love that defied the odds, a love that was both their greatest strength and their greatest vulnerability. And in the end, it was a love that would be remembered forever."

The professor pulls up the crime scene photographs, Sukuna's car riddled with bullet holes, blood staining the right side doors. Then he shows the picture that had led to the criminal lovers gaining their infamous post-death moniker: 'The Eternal Lovers.' The picture is of Sukuna and Cherry's corpses.

The image is haunting: Sukuna's lifeless body cradling Cherry's, his arms wrapped around her as if to shield her from the world even in death. Cherry's dress is soaked with rain and blood, her hand still clasped in Sukuna's. Their faces, serene and defiant, seemed to challenge anyone who dared to separate them.

"They say a picture is worth a thousand words," the professor murmurs, his voice filled with a mix of reverence and sorrow. "But this one speaks volumes about the depths of their connection. It tells a story of love, defiance, and tragedy. Cherry and Sukuna's legacy isn't just about their reign of terror; it's also about the unyielding bond they shared, a bond that death couldn't sever."

"How did Cherry and Sukuna meet?" a student asks, their voice cutting through the silence.

The professor smiles a hint of mystery in his eyes. "Now that is something no one knows," he says, leaning against his desk. "One day, the criminal underworld was ruled by a King, and then suddenly he has a queen."

He pauses, letting the weight of his words sink in. "There are countless theories, of course. Some say they met in the most unlikely of places, others believe it was a fated encounter. But the truth is, Cherry and Sukuna's meeting is shrouded in as much mystery as their reign. The local museum has a lot of memorabilia collected from the time of their reign. They have the car from the final stand on display along with the outfits from that night"

As the lecture comes to an end, the students file out of the room, their minds filled with the tale of Cherry and Sukuna. The professor remains behind, staring at the photograph. He can't help but feel a sense of admiration for the couple who lived and died by their own rules, their love immortalized in the annals of history.

His thoughts drift back to the rainy night that marked the end of Cherry and Sukuna's reign. The police reports, the newspaper headlines, the testimonies of those who had witnessed the final showdown – they all painted a picture of a love that was fierce and unyielding, even in the face of certain death.

The professor had pored over these documents countless times, trying to understand what drove them, what bound them together so tightly that they chose to face their end together rather than surrender.

He recalls a particular line from a witness statement, an elderly woman who had watched the final moments unfold from her apartment window. 

"They stood there in the rain, hand in hand, as if nothing else in the world mattered. It was as if they were saying goodbye to everything and everyone, but not to each other. He pulled her close and the bullets rained down on them and tore through them. Even when they dropped, he held her like she was his everything. I suppose she was."

The professor sighs, turning off the projector and gathering his notes. He knows that in another few weeks, he'll be teaching this same lesson to another group of students, passing on the legend of Cherry and Sukuna. As he locks up the lecture hall, he takes one last look at the photograph.

Walking through the quiet corridors of the university, he wonders about the choices we make in the name of love and the legacies we leave behind. Cherry and Sukuna may have lived a life of crime, but their story is a reminder that even in the darkest of places, love can shine through, defying the odds and leaving an indelible mark on history.

The professor's footsteps echo down the empty hallway as he walks past glass display cases filled with artefacts from the same era: vintage newspapers, old pistols, and police badges, each item a silent witness to the turbulent times of Cherry and Sukuna. 

He stops in front of a case displaying two pistols, one sleek black and one with cherry red accents. The guns, reputedly Sukuna and Cherry's, were found at the site of their last stand. He stares at them, imagining the man and woman who once used them, a couple who lived fiercely and loved even more fiercely. 

A soft sound startles him out of his reverie. He turns to see a young woman standing nearby, clutching a notebook. She looks at the photograph on the projector screen, then back at him.

"Professor, can I ask you something?" she says hesitantly.

"Of course," he replies, curious.

"Do you think... do you think they knew how their story would end? That they would be remembered this way?"

The professor considers her question. "I think they knew they were living a life that would lead to an inevitable end. But I also believe that they were more focused on living each moment fully, especially with each other. They were aware of the risks, but their love gave them the courage to face those risks head-on."

The young woman nods, deep in thought. "It's just... it's kind of beautiful, isn't it? To be remembered for something so... passionate."

The professor smiles. "Yes, it is. It's a reminder that love, in its purest form, can transcend everything – even the darkest of legacies."

As the young woman walks away, the professor turns off the last light in the hallway. He leaves the university, stepping out into the cool night air, the story of Cherry and Sukuna lingering in his mind. 

As Professor Yuji Itadori walks through the rain-soaked streets, he feels the weight of his family's legacy bearing down on him, a legacy shaped by the love and turmoil of his grandparents, Cherry and Sukuna.

Growing up, Yuji had been shielded from the darker aspects of his family's past, but snippets of their history had always found their way to him, whispered secrets passed down through generations. He had listened with a mix of fascination and trepidation, knowing that his own identity was intricately woven into the tapestry of Cherry and Sukuna's legend.

Yet, despite the allure of his family's infamous past, Yuji had chosen a different path. He had forged his own identity, separate from the shadows that had haunted his grandparents. He had embraced his surname, Itadori, a surname his grandparents had given their only son before sending him away from the criminal underworld of Chicago.

But even as Yuji sought to carve out his own destiny, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was still tethered to the legacy of Cherry and Sukuna. Their blood flowed through his veins, their stories whispered in the winds of his dreams. And as he walked through the rain-soaked streets, he couldn't help but wonder about his place in their tale.

Was he destined to follow in their footsteps, to be consumed by the same darkness that had defined their lives? Or could he forge a new path, one guided by his own principles and convictions? The answers eluded him, lost in the labyrinth of his thoughts.

As he navigated the streets of the city, Yuji felt a sense of unease gnawing at the edges of his consciousness. The weight of his family's history pressed down on him, a burden he couldn't shake. But amidst the storm clouds that gathered overhead, there flickered a glimmer of hope.

For Yuji knew that the legacy of Cherry and Sukuna was not just one of darkness and despair. It was also a legacy of love, of sacrifice, of the enduring power of the human spirit. And as he walked through the rain-soaked streets, he vowed to honour that legacy in his own way, to carve out a future that was uniquely his own, yet forever intertwined with the echoes of his family's past.

Taglist: @sad-darksoul

[system-to-the-madness]

Bet ya - Kaz Brekker x Reader

Pairing: (can be read as any gender, no pronouns used) Genre: fluff Word Count: 2 311 Warnings: alcohol, Reader kisses Wylan (oops, but no cheating), OCC Kaz, betting (not on money) Summary: Kaz makes a bet with you and doesn’t like the way it turns out for him Prompts: bet, game, constest

“You’d never win a bet against me.”

“Is that a bet?”

Kaz rolled his eyes at you, adjusting in the seat at the bar of the Crow Club. “Why are you so desperate to lose to me.”

“We don’t know if I’d lose,” you reminded him, tilting your head at him playfully.

“Why do I even bother,” he murmured, more to himself than you, but you still heard him over the noise of the guests, the music and the clinking of glasses and coins.

“Come on, Kaz,” you encouraged him, nudging the leg of his chair with your foot, knowing better than to touch him. “It’s a game!”

“A stupid game, and that’s Jesper’s specialty, not mine.”

“Indulge me, just this once. All the others played too!”

“What’s your current score, then?” Kaz wasn’t looking at you as he waved to the bartender for another glass of whiskey.

“Sooo… I won against Matthias,” you start counting, “lost to Nina and Inej, won against Wylan and the bet with Jesper is still ongoing. Currently it does look like he’s going to lose, though.”

With a sigh Kaz turned back to you, taking in your appearance. His blue eyes were cold as always, but you had learnt better than to be intimidated by them. Sure, he was a dangerous man, but in a relaxed situation like right now, considering how close you were, there was nothing you had to fear from him. For the time being.

“Fine,” he agreed eventually, rolling his eyes again as an excited grin spread over your face. “But first: who would you rather kiss, Wylan or Jesper?”

You, you wanted to say, but you were no idiot and certainly not drunk enough to answer that. Even if he wouldn’t mind you basically confessing your annoying little crush on him, even if he would want to kiss you too, he couldn’t. Not with the way he flinched at any form of physical contact or even the mental image of standing too close to someone.

Quickly you tore your thoughts back to his question. Really, you had no desire to kiss either of the young men, even more so because you knew they were going out. But you had the distinct feeling one of their names would annoy him more to hear than the other.

“I don’t want to kiss either of them,” you told him honestly.

“Assume you are being forced. Who would you choose?”

Worrying your lips between your teeth, you glanced over at the table in the corner, where the rest of the crows were laughing together. Matthias sat in the very back, Nina cuddled into his side, Inej in safe distance at his other side with Wylan and Jesper on the bench opposite them.

“Do I have to choose?”

“Yes,” Kaz’s answer came cooly and not without a hint of pleasure at your discomfort.

“Jesper,” you eventually decided, just in time looking back at Kaz to see his face fall. Jackpot.

“And who of the two are you more scared of?”

“Scared of?” You couldn’t help the laugh that slipped over your lips. “Why would I be scared of either of them?”

“Maybe you upset them? Broke Wylan’s favourite flute, or Jesper’s gun…”

The way Kaz was looking at you now reminded you of why people were so scared of him. There was something truly… demonic- in the way he was watching you now. You were his mark and his whole focus was on trying to find a way to bring you down. You just wished his whole focus would be on you even without trying to drive you into ruin.

“I mean, Jesper has his guns, but Wylan has his explosives,” you thought out loud. “So, I’m gonna go with Wylan on this.”

“Hm, not ideal,” Kaz told you, his eyes flickering from you over to the table with his friends. You had about an idea what he was going to bet you on, you just didn’t know who he would choose, Jesper or Wylan.

“Don’t stress yourself out,” you joked, trying to overplay your sudden nervousness. “You don’t have to come up with a masterplan for a simple game of betting.”

“Who would I be if I didn’t,” Kaz asked, turning back to you with a devilish grin that made a shiver run down your spine. Jup, Matthias’ nickname for Kaz was accurate indeed.

“Fine, hit me with all you’ve got,” you sighed, leaning a little closer than before as if conspiring with him. Instead of leaning away, as you had expected him to do, he leant closer, close enough for you to smell the whiskey on his breath.

“I bet you wouldn’t go over to Wylan and kiss him. On the mouth,” Kaz grinned diabolically.

Yeah, you had known he’d go for this as soon as he had asked the first question.

“That’s not a bet, that’s a dare,” you educated him, but got up from your chair anyway, Kaz’s eyes widening slightly. “What do I get if I win?”

“You won’t,” Kaz told you, his confident smile seeming frozen on his lips.

“Well, then what do you get if you win,” you asked, adjusting your shirt, turning to him expectedly.

“The pride of knowing you ruined your own bet,” Kaz decided.

“How chivalrous of you. I’ll take a coffee with winter spices from the café down the street as my prize, but the coffee with cream, the good one,” you told him, before turning away and walking over to the corner, where your friends were seated. All the way over you felt Kaz’s eyes on your back.

“Hey! Did you finally leave the resident rain cloud and decided to join the fun,” Jesper laughed as he spotted you approaching.

“Not quite. Hey Jes, remember our bet from before?”

Jesper nodded, his grin growing broader. “Am I winning?”

“You just might,” you told him. “But I’d have to kiss your boyfriend for that.”

Jesper stopped for a moment, as if he was thinking, then he looked up at where you were standing behind him, over to Kaz, to Wylan and back to Kaz.

“Oh, if it’s just for the bet, you’d have to ask Wylan, not me.” The grin was returning to Jesper’s face, and you had the sudden thought that he actually might be into you kissing Wylan. Oh saints, that man.

“I would ask him either way, you genius,” you sighed, “I just don’t want to get shot by you over a bet.”

“Fair enough,” Jesper agreed.

“So, Wylan, would you mind if I kissed you? No tongue or anything. It would help me win a bet against Kaz and possibly help Jesper win a bet against me.”

Wylan blinked for a few seconds, trying to process what you were asking, then his eyes skipped over to Jesper, who you saw nodding encouragingly from the corner of your eyes.

“I guess, it’s okay,” he nodded, making you smile.

“This shouldn’t be as hot as it is,” Jesper mumbled behind you.

“I’ll keep it short, I promise,” you told him, placing a hand on his shoulder and leaning down to come to level with him. His dark eyes flickered over your face and from this close up you could almost count the freckles that were sprinkled over his nose and cheeks. He definitely was cute. Not your type, but cute. You could understand why Jesper was so in love with him.

You closed your eyes, and leant forward, determined to get this over with as quickly as possible. But your lips had barely touched against Wylan’s, hadn’t even yet registered his warmth, when suddenly the others on the table gasped. It wasn’t the kind of ‘oh, they’re actually kissing!’-gasp, it was more of a shocked, if not even scared gasp. Before you could even try to make sense of it, something hard and pointy landed on your shoulder and you got yanked backwards.

“That’s enough,” Kaz’s icy voice cut like a blade through the noise of the Crow Club.

And without giving you the chance to properly stand up or let you look at him, he used the crow beak of his cane to drag you backwards. Instead of trying to figure out the various levels of amusement and terror on your friends’ faces, you twisted, trying to turn around to Kaz, who marched straight out of the Crow Club. In the dark, cold street outside, he walked a few more meters before he came to a halt and unhooked the cane from your shoulder.

“What was that about,” he almost shouted, his frame seeming taller and more dangerous than usually. Finding yourself on the bad side of Dirtyhands was not very pleasant, you realized, but also you didn’t understand what his problem was.

“What do you mean,” you asked, “you bet I wouldn’t do it, and I did. You lost, so what?”

“You kissed him!”

“Hardly! You stopped me before it was even a proper kiss. With that crow cane of yours.” Annoyed you rubbed the aching part of your shoulder, where the tip of the beak had bored into your muscle.

“You weren’t supposed to kiss him,” Kaz argued.

“You bet I wouldn’t. You have to expect people to win a bet by doing the opposite of what you want them to do. That’s how bets work!”

“I didn’t think you’d really do it! I thought you’d- or- I don’t know! I didn’t think you’d go through with it!”

“Why not? I told you, it’s a game. What’s so bad about wanting to win it?”

“I thought- I thought you wouldn’t kiss him, because you liked m-” Kaz stopped himself before the last word fully slipped over his lips, and turned away, exasperated. Running a shaking hand through his hair, he sighed. “You weren’t supposed to kiss him.”

“Kaz,” carefully you stepped closer behind him. His breath was irregular, and he was clearly upset and emotional. Under normal circumstances you would have placed your hand on his back, but knowing Kaz, you refrained. “Kaz, you do know it was a game, right? It didn’t mean anything. And- I only kissed Wylan because I though you wouldn’t mind.”

“Wouldn’t mind?” Kaz turned back around to you. “Of course I mind! Do you think I don’t wish I could be the one who-”

“Quick question!” Without warning the window beside Kaz and you got thrown open and Jesper poked his head outside. “Kaz are you jealous? And does that mean I won our bet?” The second part was directed at you.

“Not now, Jes,” you told the Zemini man and slammed the window shut again.

“Listen Kaz,” you took a step closer to Kaz, still leaving a safe distance between him and you to not upset him further. “If I had known it would upset you this much, I would have rejected the bet. I really was convinced you didn’t care about if or who I kissed. But now I know better, and it won’t happen again. And for the record. When you asked, who I wanted to kiss between Jesper and Wylan, my initial response would have been someone else entirely.”

You exchanged a long look with Kaz, one that left no doubt that you had meant him, even if you lacked the courage to put it into words.

After a few moments, Kaz bowed his head slightly.

“Sorry for lashing out,” he mumbled.

“Since when does Dirtyhands do apologies,” you teased, making Kaz groan.

“Don’t ruin it,” he threatened, making you laugh.

“Alright, alright. But now that we have that settled, does this mean I won a bet against you?”

“One,” Kaz emphasized. “I won’t make it so easy next time.”

“Why, what’s the next bet? Kissing Nina?”

“You won’t be kissing anyone,” Kaz grumbled, a blush beginning to rise into his cheeks.

“Not anyone? Not even the great Kaz Brekker?” It was bold, that was for certain, but you had hit bullseyes it seemed, as Kaz fought back the red on his cheeks and instead turned to you with an expression that probably was his attempt to threaten you. The thing with Kaz Brekker was that he was incapable of believably threatening the people he cared about.

“I might make an exception for him,” he mumbled, before turning to the door. “Let’s go back inside; it’s cold.”

Trying not to let your giddy excitement show, you followed Kaz back into the bar, but before he entered the main room, he stopped and turned to you.

“What was that bet you had going on with Jesper,” he asked with furrowed brows. You couldn’t help but notice that his body language had changed. Where before he always stood straight and with a certain distance to every person he encountered, he now seemed to be leaning more towards you as if trying to close a distance you knew he couldn’t. Not yet anyway.

“He bet, you would get jealous over me before the end of the month,” you admitted, watching Kaz tilt his head. “I was convinced it was impossible.”

Kaz’s jaw tensed, and his eyes met yours with an unspoken confession, but the moment was interrupted by a drunk guy stumbling through the door, bumping into you and apologizing terribly.

Kaz and you exchanged glances, your more amused than his annoyed one, before you walked back inside, getting hit by a wall of noise and the smell of alcohol. The others waved you over cheerfully, and when Kaz and you pulled your own chairs over to join them at their table, nobody mentioned the way Kaz rested his arm on the backrest of your chair or how he leant over to whisper in your ear that he hadn’t forgotten about the prize for you winning the bet but only under the condition that he got to accompany you to the café.

[persephone411]

The Cabin (JW x reader)

Summary: When your boyfriend flees with you to an isolated cabin, you had no idea that you would end up being bend over the kitchen counter by the very person he was fleeing from.

Masterlist

It was around 2 in the night but you were still awake. Restless you lay next to Josh, your boyfriend who was sleeping peacefully. With an exhausted sigh you get up and rub your face. Quietly you leave the bedroom, dressed only in your panties and a tanktop. The air was chilly as you walked into the open space of the cabin which combined Living room, dining room ans kitchen. Just as you filled up a glass with tab water, a shiver went through your body. It was the same feeling you had when you were outside of the cabin this afternoon. As if you were being watched. Carefully you set the glass down and turn around. The room was dark, with the only light coming from the moon, shining through the panorama windows. Slowly your gaze wandered through the cabin. Although you couldn’t see anything, the feeling of being watched didn’t disappear. After a bit you tried to relax. You were in the middle of nowhere, how big was the chance that a a burglar had broken into the cabin?. You turned around again and picked up the glass again, drinking while listening for any suspicious noises. Should you wake Josh? Probably not. He would only tell you that you were seeing ghosts or something. But then you remembered, now nervously he had been, how he always looked around, as if he was looking for danger or something. Just as you wanted to return to the bedroom, a shadow in the corner of your eye moved. Imediatly you turned in the direction from where you saw the human-like silhouette but when the shadow attacked, you didn’t even had time to scream.

When your boyfriend announced the vacation, you were confused. Mainly because it was in the middle of your semester and spontaneous vacations to empty cabins In the woods weren’t his style at all. In truth, your filthy rich boyfriend would rather die than spend his vacation anywhere else but a 5 star luxury hotel with a private beach and some pretentious yacht club. Where the money for all that came from ? You had no idea, you never even met his family.

“Babe, are you sure about that cabin?“

You asked as he started to throw random clothes into his Louis Vuitton suitcase.

He nodded frantically

“Yes Love, It will be amazing trust me, now pack your stuff, we really have to go”

His voice was tense and he seemed unnaturally stressed.

“Ok….” You said slowly, then went to your walk in closet to grab your suitcase.

“How long do you plan this trip to go?” You asked as you start to neatly pack your suitcase.

“Dunno, pack for a few days” came his answer from the bathroom.

As you packed your suitcase, you saw his reflection in the bedroom mirror, he was shoving bundles of hundred dollar bills in his wallet, then he opened his nightstand quickly and pulled out a gun, which he stored in the waistband of his jeans.

“Are you ready?”

He asked as he checked his suitcase for the last time.

“Uh yes, but…”

,,Then let’s go” he grabbed your suitcases and left the bedroom, leaving you no choice but to follow him to his McLaren.

A few hours later you two arrived at a suprisingly modern Cabin in the middle of nowhere. As you left the car, you couldn’t help but notice how nervous your boyfriend seemed, constantly looking around.

“Are you sure that you are alright Darling?“ you asked again.

“Hmm? Oh yeah, uhm take care of the suitcases and I’ll check out the house“

With that Josh went into the cabin, leaving you to carry the heavy suitcases.

After you unpacked and checked out the suprisingly modern cabin, Josh and you spend the day on the couch. At first you tried to convince him to go hiking, but he refused, pointing at his white Lacoste trainers. So it was Netflix and chill instead. At around 9 am you went to bed.

Completely without a warning a big hand clamped down on your mouth and you were pushed against the kitchen counter

“Don’t move” a dark, husky voice murmured against your ear and you could feel the warm breath of the stranger against your cheek. You let out a whimper and try to squirm way, your heart beating in panic.

“stop squirming” the voice ordered harshly and you imediatly stopped to move.

“Good girl. Now, if I take my hand away, can you promise me not to scream?”

You nodded hastily, your body still shaking because of the adrenaline.

“Good” the voice whispered and you couldn’t help but shudder under its deep, velvety sound. Slowly the hand moved away from your mouth, wandering over your jaw and then lightly grabbed your throat. Not choking you, but rather giving you a feeling of being controlled. A rather good feeling, you noticed in shock.

,,Turn around, slowly”

You took a deep breath and obeyed, your gaze was lowered automatically. In this position all you could see was a perfect black suit. Hesitantly you look up, only to find yourself opposite to a true god of a man. Although his face was nearly completely hidden in the shadows you knew that he was the very definition of tall dark and handsome with longish, slicked back hair, a perfectly trimmed beard and dark eyes.he wore a black suit, but could see how muscular he was. For a few seconds you could only stare at him, then you blinked and the moment was over. Imediatly you scolded yourself mentally. You had a boyfriend, a boyfriend who was sleep only one room away, who took you on a vacation to this nice cabin.

“Who are you?” You whispered at the stranger. He didn’t answer, only stared down at You silently, which caused goosebumps to form on your body. As he continued look at you, you remembered that your current wardrobe only consisted of a tank top and some panties . Nervously you crossed your arms over your chest.

“What do you want? There is nothing expensive in this cabin. Nothing you could steal”

“I’m not a burglar”

“Then why are you here?” Slowly you got impatient, still trapped between the kitchen counter and his torso.

“Your boyfriend messed with the wrong people, stole from the wrong people”

“What is that supposed to mean?” You asked nervously

“It means that these people hired me to take care of him”

You didn’t need to a mastermind to know what he meant.

“No please” out of reflext you placed your hands on his muscular chest and looked up at him with hopefully your best doe eyes, a tactic which always worked with Josh, but the stranger just chuckled.

“Sweetheart, stuff like that won’t work on me, still a cute try”

“Then what will work?” You asked, your voice trembling

“Nothing, I’ve been following your boyfriend for weeks, he was never alone. Until he had the stupid idea to flee to a cabin in the middle of nowhere, without any security guards, without any surveillance cameras and only his little girlfriend”

His voice was a whisper you could feel his breath on your face.

“Please won’t hurt him” you whispers back, tears stinging in your eyes, Yes Josh wasn’t perfect, but you loved him nonetheless.

“Fuck you’re pretty. Keep looking at me with those doe eyes and I won’t be able to control myself.” At his words you bit your underlip. You would only to it to distract him, only to save Josh, you told yourself. Then you kissed the Stranger. It was hesitant and soft at first,bust just as you wanted to pull away again, he placed a hand at the back of your head and deepened the kiss. A suprised gasp left you and you continued to kiss him, your hands still on his chest. Effortlessly he lifted you up and placed you on the kitchen counter and wrapped his muscular arms around your slender frame. After what felt like an eternity you finally pulled away. Breathlessly you look at him. For a few seconds you two only look wordless at each other, then our lips meet again, making out passionately. A deep growl left him and he pulled you closer against his chest. You gasped and felt your nipples harden under your thin top. His kisses were insatiable and you couldn’t help but notice how different his kissing style was from Josh’s. It was deeper. As if he was a drowning person finding water. You squirmed, feeling yourself become wetter and wetter. If this was your body’s reaction to his kisses, how would it feel to have him thrust inside you? The thought alone send a shiver down your spine and you whimpered against his lips.

“Do you want more Little one?” He asked, his voice sounding even more husky than before. Quicky you nodded and allowed him to pull your top over your head.

“Look at you, so beautiful” the lips of the stranger wandered over your jaw and neck while his big hands cupped your breasts, his thumbs teasing your hard nipples. You gasped and arched your back. His breath wandered over your neck, then you felt his warm mouth over your left breast. A soft noise left your mouth.

“Quiet little one, we don’t wanna wake up Josh do we?”. You shook your head and couldn’t stop the guilt washing over you. Your boyfriend was asleep only one room away while you were making out with another man. A man who was hired to kill him. The stranger seemed to notice your inner conflict.

“It’s ok. There is no reason to feel guilty about cheating. Joshua did it too”. Suprised you look in his dark eyes. “What?”.

“Oh you heard me little one. He had at least one girl we would call for a little fun”. You were speechless, yet somehow not suprised. You always knew that Josh loved it to surround himself with beautiful women, yet you always denied yourself to think about the possibility of him cheating on you. Your thoughts were Interrupted as the stranger started to kissing you again. This time you answered him imediatly, gripping his hair and diving into the feeling of his lips on yours. After a bit you started to pull on his tie, desperate to get it off. It was unfair that he was still fully clothed while you were only in your black panties. He chuckles and pulls off his tie.Then his large hands wandered down your sides and swiftly pulled down your underwear. Like before he stepped between your legs and you couldn’t help but rub your burning core lightly against the fabric of his dress pants.

“Patience” he ordered, sounding amused. Silently you watched as he calmly rolled his sleeves up, showing off his perfect forearms. Then his hands wandered over your thighs until they found your folds.

“So wet already” he murmured, while his middle finger parted your lips. “Please” you whispered breathlessly. “Please what?”. “Please touch me”. Your eyes met, his long fingers still caressing your pussy slowly.

“Only because you asked so nicely”. As he started to finger you faster you had to bite your lip to stop you from whimpering. It had been quite a bit since someone actually cared about your pleasure, with Josh being rather egotistical in the bedroom. But now the stranger had you squirming on the kitchen counter while his fingers found all the right places. You grabbed his muscular shoulders for support as you sank back, nearly hitting your head on the kitchen cabinets behind you. “Please, keep going…”

Your eyes were closed as the stranger whispered against your ear “John, my name is John. I want you to scream it when I make you cum”. Frantically you nodded, already close to your release. Then he added a second finger and his mouth, sucking on your sensitive clit while massaging your g-spot at the same time. Desperately you arched your back and squirmed at his sweet torture, only for him to grab your thighs and dive in even more.A whispered “John” was the only warning he would get. A strong orgasm washed over your body, making you arch your back and trapping his head between your legs while you desperately bit your lip to suppress any noise that would have let your mouth. Your body was still shaking with aftershocks as John got up and kissed your clit. Panting quietly you laid on the kitchen counter, your body felt heavy and you were not sure if you could ever move again. As you heard the noise of a belt buckle being opened you slowly lifted your head. John stood between your legs and freed his errection. Silently he watched you as he stroked his cock, his dark eyes on your naked body.

“Bend over” He ordered, his voice a deep growl. Still a bit dizzy from your orgasm you obeyed, your feet barely touching the ground and your nipples pressed against the cold kitchen counter. For a few breaths nothing happened, then his large hands grabbed your hips and he entered you slowly. Although you had seen that he was big, you still shivered as he thrust himself inside you. Almost comforting John placed a warm hand on your back.

“Just like that, take inch of me” he growled and you couldn’t suppress the small whimper which escaped you. You always had a thing for dirty talk. His hands returned to your hips and he started to thrust. His movements powerful and controlling. Desperately you bit your lip to stop yourself from moaning, your hands desperately trying to grab the smooth kitchen counter as your whole body felt like it was on fire.

“John” you whimpered as he fucked forcefully, each thrust making your head spin.

“Shh, we don’t want your boyfriend to hear do we?”. Quickly you shook your head. Johns hands wandered eagerly from your hips along your ribs until one hand fisted your hair while the other wrapped around your neck, squeezing gently. Automatically you arched your back, forcing you into a nearly painful position. You whimpered again and listened to the sounds of his hips slamming against your rear.

���John please” tears stung In your eyes due to the uncomfortable position he had you in. He didn’t listen, instead he pulled your head back even more and got even rougher.

“Take me, take me while your boyfriend sleeps one room away from us, not knowing that his little girlfriend is letting a stranger fuck her pussy from behind on the kitchen counter. You like that don’t you?“. Against your will you nodded, enjoying every second of it. Faintly you reminded a friend explaining the difference of having sex with a boy versus with a man to touch. At first you didn’t understood it, In your eyes josh had been amazing in bed, but now, with John dominating you, you get it. Johns thrust got faster and you knew that he was close. Automatically you clenched around his cock, causing him to groan. His hand finally let go of your hair and wandered down your spine, leaving goosebumps. Then he playfully slapped your ass. You flinched in suprise at the sudden pain and the loud noise. He only chuckled and started to rub your clit, your whole body shook at the combination of his cock hitting your G-spot and his fingers stimulating your clit. Again you arched your spine.

“What do you think little one? Should I make you cum? Do you think that you were a good girl and deserve an orgasm?”. He whispered in your ear, his beard scratching your face. Frantically you nod and he chuckled. Nearly painfully he grabbed your hips and started to pound into you while still rubbing your clit. As you came, you couldn’t suppress the loud moan which left you and John followed shortly after. This cock was twitching and you could feel his orgasm as you pussy clenched around him. After a bit you sank onto the kitchen counter, completely weak and exhausted. John followed quickly, resting his forehead on your back.

“That was perfect” he murmured and you nodded weakly. Earlier than you would have liked he pulled out of you and rearranged his pants.

“What are you doing?” You murmur and look over your shoulder at him. John didn’t answer and just silently scooped you up into his arms to carry your limp body to the sofa in the living room. Carefully he laid you down and pulled a blanket over you. At this point you were ready to close your eyes and fall asleep. But then you notice that he wouldn’t join you. Instead he walked in the direction of the bedroom. Imediatly you knew that he had a gun in his hand, ready to kill your boyfriend.

“Wait! No” you croaked weakly and tried to free yourself from the blanket. Hastily you tried to reach John, but your legs gave in and you fell onto your knees a few feet away from him.

“You can’t kill him” you whispered. Johns dark eyes rested on your naked form, practically kneeling at is feet.

“A job is a job. I have no choice”. He whispered softly, his fingers caressing your cheek.

“God, you’re beautiful, maybe I keep you”. Then he turned back to the bedroom, leaving you behind on the floor. You closed your eyes and flinched as the loud bang tore through silence of the cabin.