#the way he slings around WE business cards. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cevansbrat0007 · 2 years ago

Text

Case of the Ex: Part I

Summary: Just as you decide to explore your feelings for Ari, an unexpected blast from your past sends you reeling...

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Ex-boyfriends, Discussions of Weight, Discussions of Body Image, Mentions of Disordered Eating, Brief Discussions of Race, Pet Names, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Special thanks to @curls-and-eyeliner for helping me brainstorm. This story is part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. Thanks for reading!

“So do you trust me now, Mr. Carmichael?” You tease as you carefully place several books into your customer’s reusable shopping bag while you wait on the receipt to print. “Because the way I see it, I haven’t steered you wrong yet.”

“Here we go.” The older man grumbles, playfulling rolling his eyes as you punch in the last few numbers to complete the transaction.

“My recommendation track record speaks for itself.” You can’t help but laugh at the look he gives you. As if you two didn’t have the same conversation at least once a month. “I just want you to give me my props.”

“Arrogance isn’t a good look on you, young lady.”

“Who said anything about arrogance?” Your eyes go comically wide as you lean into the theatrics by pretending to look around your shop. “Certainly not me. I’m just a small business owner, standing in front of the best retired florist in all of Bell’s Creek, humbly requesting that he finally give me my flippin’ flowers.”

Mr. Carmichael heaves a weary sigh. “Fine, fine. You were right.” He steps back from the counter to give a dramatic bow. “Jean Hanff Korelitz’s Jacob Bonner was strong enough to rival Stephen King’s own Mort Rainey and Thad Beaumont. Your literary tastes reign superior once again.”

“And there it is.” You rip the receipt from the printer and drop it into the bag before handing it over so that you can rest your elbows on the counter. “Now was that really that bad? It’s not like I asked for one of your Sapphire Sweetheart bouquets, after all.”

“That entire moment was so positively excruciating I almost didn’t live through it.” He keeps his tone light as he slings the bag over his shoulder. “Anyway, same time next month?”

“Can’t wait.” You respond with a wink and a wave. “Wouldn’t miss it. And please give Millie my love.”

“Will do!” He calls behind him as he heads out the door.

Once he’s gone you decide to stand up and stretch, raising your arms over your head. You’re not satisfied until you hear the sound of your spine popping. And then you up the ante, twisting your body from side to side before bending down and touching your toes.

You hold the position for a moment, content to let yourself dangle until you hear the chime of the front door, signaling the arrival of another customer. Which was great news for you, especially since business had been kind of slow this morning.

“Welcome to Baubles & Quills!” You chirp as you quickly right yourself. “How can I he–” The words die on your lips when you get a good look at the person standing just inside the doorway.

“Hiya, Cupcake.”

It’s a nickname you haven’t heard in years. And it had only ever been used by one man. The same one who had broken your heart and left a wound so deep you’d been almost convinced that it would never heal.

And yet there he was. Standing right there in your shop. Somehow even more handsome than you remembered.

Mason J. Prescott.

The seconds tick by, turning into minutes as a loaded silence washes over you both. Whatever you’d been expecting, it hadn’t been this. A visit from your ex-boyfriend had not been on today’s bingo card.

Grinning, Mason closes the gap between you. His long, denim clad legs covering the distance in a few easy strides. Once he’s in front of you he removes his Stetson pinchfront and sits it on the counter before taking the opportunity to run his fingers through his thick black locks.

“Damn if you ain’t a sight for sore eyes.” Still grinning, his gray eyes give you a thorough onceover. It’s a blatant, slow moving perusal that lets you know he likes what he sees. “I swear they don’t make girls as pretty as you out in Brickfield. Must be something in the water.”

“Uh…hi.” You stammer as shock continues to course its way through you.

“You lookin’ to catch some flies there, Cupcake?”

Shit. That meant you were staring. Probably with your mouth open. It was an old bad habit that, up until today, you could’ve sworn you had licked.

“Sorry.” You cough, forcing your brain to reboot.

“No need to be sorry.” While Mason’s easygoing charm used to calm your nerves, today it seemed to be doing the opposite.

“What brings you..?” You trail off to take a steadying breath. “I didn’t realize you were back in town.”

What the hell was he doing here?

“I just flew in last night. Caught a red-eye home from Buffalo, New York..” He decides to explain further after you flash him a quizzical glance. “Dad had me working on a business deal up there. It was a quick trip with an even quicker turnaround.”

Oh. “Got it.”

“Yeah.” He chuckles, scrubbing a hand over his five-o’clock shadow. “My, uh, plan had been to fly back out to Brickfield first and then make the drive. But after speaking with my Mama no less than six nerve-racking times in the span of an hour, I figured I’d be better off coming straight here. And I’ll be damned if it doesn’t feel good to be back.” He raps his knuckles on the wood.

“I’m sure they’re all very happy you’re home.” You weren’t really sure what else to say to that, so you kept it simple. Although it still didn’t explain his reason for showing up at what was arguably the equivalent of your doorstep.

“Maybe. Some more than others, I suppose.” His voice drops an octave as he pins you with a knowing look. “Any chance you might be one of those people?”

Your teeth begin to gnaw at your bottom lip as your palms go damp with sweat. Why on earth would he care or not about whether you were happy to see him or not? Especially since you hadn’t spoken in–

“I’ve thought of you damn near every day over the last five years.”

“Mace…” His former nickname comes on the heels of a weary sigh.

“I’m serious, sweets.”

“Didn’t say you weren’t.”

You did not want to do this today. It wasn’t fair or right of him to think he could just pick up and waltz back into your life as if he expected your feelings for him to be the same.

Things had changed since then. You had changed. Everything was different now, starting and ending with you.

“I’ve been thinking…” Now it’s his turn to sigh as he squares his shoulders. “Maybe we made a mistake.”

“Ha!” You let out an unladylike snort, your hand flying to your mouth in an attempt to catch it. “I don’t believe for a second that I’m the reason your Mama pressed you to hussle your ass back to our quaint little town.”

“I came back because I needed to deal with a family matter. But I was thinking about staying because the one that got away also happens to own a shop that’s just down the road from my parent’s ranch.” His sobering admission is enough to send you reeling all over again.

Mason then places his hand atop yours, allowing the slightly roughened pad of his thumb to stroke along the ridge of your knuckles.

“I’m afraid I don’t take your meaning.” You give him your best haughty southern belle impression. “But if you’d like, I can point you in the direction of our Self-Help books. I’m sure you’ll find plenty of helpful literature on learning from your past mistakes. Might I recommend John Purkiss’ bestseller, The Power of Letting Go? I hear it’s a real page turner.”

Your newfound snippiness has your ex-boyfriend rocking back on his heels. He even appears a little stunned. Good.

You weren’t the same meek young woman he’d left behind all those years ago. Something that Mason James Prescott would do well to remember.

“Sheesh, Cupcake.” Your former flame presses a hand over his heart, feigning as if you’d wounded him. “You might’ve shed a few extra pounds when I wasn’t looking, but I see you've also gained a little sass too.”

You fold your arms over your chest as you take a moment to process what feels very much like a backhanded compliment. God’s gift to Bell’s Creek didn’t know it yet, but you were getting dangerously close to kicking his pert ass out of your shop.

As if sensing that he’s made an error, he quickly clears his throat. “All I’m saying is that I recognize that I’m dealing with a new and improved you.” He moves to reach for you again before apparently thinking better of it.

“But forgive me if I have a hard time thinking of you as anything but the doe-eyed freshman who wrote poetry behind the bleachers. That is, when she wasn’t busy taking home top prize at the state fair’s pie baking contest year after year.” Mason offers you his own award winning smile for good measure, highlighting the dimple on his left cheek.

Suddenly, the room feels a little too hot for your comfort. You didn’t like feeling this unsettled. These days the only man who was allowed to get under your skin was your handsome, overbearing bounty hunter.

It was a right that he’d earned, whether you liked it or not. And there were honestly times when you damn well didn’t. But you’d also be lying if you said that you weren’t learning to live with it.

“I could sure go for a slice of your famous brambleberry pie right about now.” Mason keeps his deep voice low and even as he takes a tentative step around the side of your cash register, which is the only thing currently separating the two of you. “But I’d be willing to settle for some cherry pie and a scoop of homemade vanilla bean ice cream over at Holtman’s Diner on West 5th if you’d be open to join me.”

“So I can watch you stuff your face with pie while I nibble on a depressing fruit salad from a can like a sad little rabbit?” You scoff. “Pass.”

Mason huffs out an annoyed breath, his brows drawing together. “You were the one who always complained about shit going to your hips. Meanwhile, I was just doing my part to be supportive. Isn’t that what any good man is supposed to do for his woman?”

Apparently you weren’t the only one experiencing a few ruffled feathers here. Fantastic.

“I’m not sure it’s allowed to fall under the category of being supportive –” you respond, complete with appropriate air quotes “– if you’re also the one constantly pointing it out.”

“We were kids, baby!” His hands fly to his waist so that he’s now standing akimbo. “Just a couple of stupid kids worried about stupid shit like football practice and prom pictures. I felt like I was walking around with the world on my shoulders back then. It wasn’t as easy for me as everybody liked to think.” He shifts his weight, resting his hip against the cashwrap. “Nobody understood the pressures of growing up as a Prescott. Nobody even tried…”

‘Oh yeah?’ Your internal voice all but screams. ‘Try being one of only five black kids in your entire goddamned graduating class. But do you see me crying? Nope.’

At any rate, you didn’t sign up for this month’s Prescott Pity Party. So you were about to politely request that he miss you with that bullshit.

“I’m sorry you felt like you had to carry so much alone, Mace. I really am.” You look down at your feet as you try to drum up a way to usher him out the door without touching him. But the next thing you know, he’s suddenly standing directly in front of you.

“Except for you.” He reaches out to clutch at your biceps, his big hands smoothing up and down your bare arms. “You saw past the spoiled little rich kid act when no one else did. And I didn’t appreciate you like I should have.”

Your heart speeds up as you take notice of the way his eyes darken. He’s so close that you can see the light smattering of freckles dotting the bridge of his slightly crooked nose. If memory served, he’d broken it during a heated football game.

One where he claimed an opposing player made several crude comments about your body and choice of skirt. At the time you’d considered him a hero. But now…

Now you saw him for what he was. Another run-of-the-mill Prescott pretty boy. All style and no substance. That was the crux of it.

Right?

“Why are you doing this?” Your question comes out weaker than you’d like, but at least it doesn’t waver.

“Because I want you to have dinner with me tonight. For old times’ sake.” His determined gaze bores into your own as all of the oxygen slowly dissipates from the room. “Please, Cupcake?”

Just then, you hear the chiming of the door, signaling the arrival of yet another customer. Spell broken, you take a fortifying step back – needing to put some distance between you and the town’s golden boy.

“Am I interrupting something?” The sound of a familiar voice has your already volatile emotions spiraling in the complete opposite direction as a sense of relief blooms in your chest.

Saved by the damn bell. Thank the Lord.

“Yeah.” Mason snaps at the same time you throw out a swift “nope”.

“Bird?”

Of course your gruff bounty hunter would defer to you on this one – for which you were grateful. You turn your attention to him, not missing the tick in his chiseled jaw.

Now that you saw them together, Ari appeared to have a good inch in height on your former lover. Aside from that, their builds were pretty similar. Instead it was the glaring difference in their personalities that managed to separate one from the other.

“It’s fine, Ari.”

“Bird?” Mason’s lip curls in an almost sneer as his hands drop to his sides. “Is that what you go by now? It’s…cute.” He tacks on the last part when you respond with a simple shrug.

If you were being honest, you didn’t much care how he felt or not. You just wanted him gone so that you could actually breathe again.

“Ari, huh?” He turns to give your man his full attention as realization finally dawns. “You must be that rent-a-cop my father was telling me about. Said you blew into town looking for Martin Westbrook’s sorry ass.”

“Not quite, pal. But you’re almost there.” Ari spares a bored glance in the direction of his would-be rival. But he doesn’t say anything. You knew without him telling you that he was busy assessing the situation. It was something he had a habit of doing anywhere he went.

Especially when found himself face-to-face with a dick like Mason Prescott.

“Well, you won’t find him here, buddy.” Your ex gives him a dismissive nod. “So why don’t you see yourself out? The lady and I were just in the middle of catching up before you took it upon yourself to interrupt.”

An uncomfortable silence ensues as both men stare each other down, each refusing to blink. The tension grows thicker with each passing moment. And it remains that way until you move to step between them.

“Mace is an old friend who stopped by for a chat.” You tell Ari, jamming your nervous hands in your pockets. “But we were just wrapping up so I could get back to doing inventory.”

It was a lie. And you recognized that Ari was someone who deserved a better, more in-depth explanation than the basic one that you just gave him. But for now it would simply have to do. At least until you got your bearings.

“But what about that pie?” Mason pouts, obviously upset by the prospect of you kicking him out. “Don’t leave me to eat alone, Cupcake.”

“Cupcake? Wow.” Ari scoffs under his breath, not bothering to his disapproval.

“Old friend, old nickname.” You hiss, somehow feeling even more self-conscious than you already did. “Now that we’ve established all that, I think it’s best if you two peaches get a move-on. I’ve got a busy day ahead of me.”

Needing some space, you attempt to shoo them out the door. But unfortunately, you might as well have better luck trying to herd a couple of cats. Lucky you.

“What about lunch?” Your man growls. Apparently he didn’t take too kindly to being thrown out either.

“Too busy. Gotta cancel. Sorry you came out all this way, but these books aren’t gonna stock themselves so…” You throw your arms in the air. “It is what it is.”

Instead of accepting his dismissal, Ari takes a step towards you. He doesn’t stop until he’s in front of you, his body eclipsing your smaller frame and effectively blocking you from Mason’s view.

“Did you eat today, baby?” He asks as one big hand comes up to cup the back of your neck, giving you an affectionate squeeze. Some of the stiffness in his shoulders eases when you give him a little nod. “Good. What’d you have?”

“A piece of toast and a hard boiled egg.”

“Alright.” Warmth pools in your belly when your sweet bounty hunter hands over a plastic bag filled with what feels suspiciously like a sandwich and chips. “It’s a grilled chicken caesar wrap. Best they had since you said you don’t like that chipotle spread. Also got you some sea salt and vinegar chips, some cuke and onion salad, and a cookie.”

Christ. This man was simply too good for you. Moments like these only served to remind you that you truly didn’t deserve him.

“Thank you.” You murmur once you finally manage to swallow the lump forming in your throat.

“I’m gonna need you to eat every last bite for me.” He tells you, his intoxicating blue eyes dropping to your lips. “So that I can fully enjoy taking a bite out of you later.” Thankfully, he's thoughtful enough to whisper the last bit. Making it clear that it was for your ears only.

“Okay, Ari.”

Nodding, he shifts his attention back to an increasingly annoyed Mason. But while there’s no way he could’ve missed the moment you shared with Ari just now, he chooses to stew in silence. Which is absolutely fine by you.

“Call me when you lock up.” You know that Ari’s words are meant for you even though his focus remains entirely on the other man taking up space in your tiny lobby.

“I’ll see you around, Cupcake.” Mason smiles, but this time you notice that it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I can’t wait to find out if you’re still as sweet as I remember.” He finishes with a knowing wink.

With that, he turns and strides out of the shop, not even bothering to hold the door for Ari. But your man doesn’t seem to mind. Instead he makes a show of shouldering through it with minimal effort.

As soon as it swings shut you hit the lock and flip the sign. And then you duck in the corner, watching as the two men exchange what you can only assume to be a few choice words right there in your parking lot.

And while you can’t make out what they’re saying, you’re convinced that it’s anything but friendly – what with them being practically nose to nose.

You stay in your spot until Ari and Mason finish their conversation. And it’s only once they’ve climbed in their respective cars and driven away that you finally slink off to the back room to lick your wounds and figure out your next move.

Fuck! You had the sinking feeling that things were about to get complicated fast. Opening the fridge, you toss your lunch inside before slamming it shut so that you can snag a homemade strawberry and cream popsicle from the freezer.

As you sit down, you feel your phone buzz in your back pocket. You fish it out, surprised to see that you’ve got a text from Ari that reads:

“Mace seems like a real stand-up guy.”

“No shit, Beast.” Rolling your eyes, you place the device facedown on a nearby table before nibbling on your sweet and creamy treat. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

END

Unofficial Tag List

@daykrisr99

@identity2212

@hisredheadedgoddess28

@blackhawkfanatic

658 notes · View notes

nightprompts · 2 years ago

Text

&. 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 (𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧) 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

( dialogue prompts taken from episodes 5 & 6 ( "eat at baratie!" & "the chef and the chore boy" ) of the netflix live action one piece series. feel free to edit and change as you seem fit. )

❛ how about we sail away as fast as we can? ❜

❛ about the battle, you wanna talk about it? ❜

❛ there's something on the breeze. smells like butter. soy sauce. and meat. ❜

❛ think he has brain damage? ❜

❛ i smell food, which means that there's someone somewhere cooking. ❜

❛ what's a... baratie? ❜

❛ let's eat! ❜

❛ you'll have to excuse them. they're idiots. ❜

❛ wanna take this outside? ❜

❛ are you asking me to dance? 'cause i kind of had my eye on that blonde at table eight. ❜

❛ i call it a true bluefin sauté. it's elephant tuna, seared asparagus, in a sweet soy reduction. ❜

❛ if i gotta sling one more prime rib medium-well, i am going to drop dead of boredom, you old shitbag! ❜

❛ this ain't gonna be a fight. i'm just going to kill him. ❜

❛ hi, welcome to our shitty restaurant where the only thing worse than the ambience is the food. ❜

❛ one of our signature cocktails to help you choke down your meal? ❜

❛ apologies, madam, i didn't see you there. ❜

❛ something wrong with your eye? ❜

❛ just blinded by your beauty. ❜

❛ nami's got a boyfriend. ❜

❛ did i catch you in the middle of something? ❜

❛ just killing some time. ❜

❛ who's the quarry? ❜

❛ doesn't sound like much of a challenge. ❜

❛ why are you after me? ❜

❛ you woke me from my nap. ❜

❛ i can't eat another bite. but it's so good. ❜

❛ who the hell is monkey d. luffy? ❜

❛ i don't even think there's liquor in this. it tastes just like candy. ❜

❛ who's ready for another drink? my treat. ❜

❛ i don't really do regret. no point in looking back. ❜

❛ sometimes, when i try to look ahead, all i see is back. ❜

❛ you know, you're a really good cook. ❜

❛ if a man is hungry, i feed him. ❜

❛ what are you carrying around that's so heavy? ❜

❛ i bet i know more about you than you do about me. ❜

❛ i guess something about you, you drink. you guess something about me, i drink.❜

❛ i have business with your captain. if you know what's good for you, you'll hand him over. ❜

❛ i've been following your career since i was a child. it's an honor to finally meet you, sir. which is why it pains me to inform you that tomorrow... you're going to die. ❜

❛ accept my challenge. you'll see how serious i am. ❜

❛ you want me to say you're the best? you're the best. okay? ❜

❛ you're the best i've ever seen, but you are not better than him. ❜

❛ why do you give a shit? ❜

❛ because you're my friend, you idiot. ❜

❛ you said it yourself. you don't have any friends. ❜

❛ what is that? i'm here for a sword fight. ❜

❛ i don't hunt rabbits with a cannon. ❜

❛ you're brave. i'll give you that. ❜

❛ wounds on the back are a swordsman's greatest shame. ❜

❛ this world could use a few more wild cards. ❜

❛ it's too soon for you to die. grow strong and come find me. i'll be waiting. ❜

❛ you could never fail me. ❜

❛ look, i'm not gonna lie to you. he's lost a lot of blood. it might be too late for him. but it might not be. ❜

❛ he's got one foot in each world right now, caught between life and death. you have to find a way to keep him tethered to our world. ❜

❛ nice of you to announce yourself. ❜

❛ i don't take orders. not even from the likes of you. ❜

❛ what's the matter? don't like fish? ❜

❛ if you don't want the fish, i got two-inch t-bones in the kitchen. or maybe you're in the mood for saffron risotto? ❜

❛ i can make anything. just tell me what you want. ❜

❛ being a captain, it's the toughest job in the world, okay? ❜

❛ how'd you two meet? were you on his crew or something? ❜

❛ oregano's for savages! ❜

❛ you've got a sharp tongue on you, boy. how about i cut it out and fry it up with some pig fat? ❜

❛ do what you want, but i'm not gonna die here. ❜

❛ they're all dead, except for us. ❜

❛ you ate it? you ate your own leg? ❜

❛ you don't even know me. why would you do that for a stranger? ❜

❛ so i'm gonna need you to live on. and i'm gonna need you to fulfill that dream... for both of us. ❜

❛ have any idea what that's like? having someone lose a limb to save your life? ❜

❛ sometimes, when you are in charge, you have to make the tough decisions. ❜

❛ i'd do anything to save him. anything. except stand in the way of his dream. ❜

❛ isn't there something that you want? something more than anything else in this world? ❜

❛ not everyone gets to follow their dreams. ❜

❛ did you not hear what i just said? they are hunting you. we need to run. ❜

❛ i can't let innocent people get hurt because of me. ❜

❛ i hear you're looking for me. ❜

❛ so this is the pirate i've heard so much about? ❜

❛ do you know who i am, boy? ❜

❛ how'd you even know how to find me? ❜

❛ if you bow down to me, i might even let you serve in my kingdom. ❜

❛ i don't bow down to any man. ❜

❛ i told you in the bar i didn't have any friends, but the truth is, i couldn't let myself have them... because i always end up hurting the people closest to me. ❜

❛ why waste your time killing a devil fruit eater? let the sea do it for you. ❜

❛ what is your problem? ❜

❛ me? i'm fine. you're the one with the problem. ❜

❛ you're not gonna be anything, not if you stay here. ❜

❛ it's not like i can just leave. ❜

❛ don't you get it? it's one thing to have a dream. it's another to go after it. ❜

❛ you want my permission? you got it. ❜

❛ i didn't know what to say before, but i know what to say now, and it's so simple. i need you. ❜

❛ you gonna keep talking, or let me get some sleep? ❜

❛ i vow to stand by your side from now until the end. ❜

❛ you're my captain, and i'm your first mate. ❜

❛ heard you guys need a cook. ❜

❛ why are we bringing the waiter? ❜

❛ you keep your feet dry. ❜

❛ you know, all these years, living under your shitty roof, cooking at your shitty restaurant... i owe you my life! ❜

❛ thank you for putting up with my shit all these years, old man. ❜

❛ i'll never forget you! ❜

#one piece #opla #sentence starters #roleplay memes #roleplay starters #rp memes #inbox memes #rp starters #dialogue prompts #ask memes #tv

334 notes · View notes

gravehags · 10 months ago

Text

sweet treat

pairing: cardinal copia x curator!reader (plus bonus ghoulettes)

rating: T for suggestive content

tags: summertime activities, gelato, ghoulettes cockblocking (affectionately), flirting, copia plotting

~~~

"Ah, feels good to be home!"

The man walking at your side turns to you with a devilish grin, reaching behind you to grip you by the ass and pull you towards him, chuckling sinisterly.

"Copia," you giggle, playfully shoving him away, "you're insatiable."

"Sì, and? I don't recall hearing any complaints about it last night when I had you bent over so prettily an--"

"Copia!" you stage whisper, looking around the silent country road. The only sounds in the warm air are cicadas buzzing and your footfalls on the hot pavement.

"Dolcezza, there is no one around but us. If I wanted to pull you into that bush over there and have my wicked way with you, there would be no one to save you."

Well that's a thought. You stop and consider it, ultimately deciding--

"Hey!" a feminine voice calls in the distance, "Wait up!"

Copia groans in frustration as the two of you turn and behold two figures lightly jogging towards you. You immediately recognize them as Copia's ghoulettes - Cumulus and Cirrus. They've abandoned their uniforms for something more weather appropriate - glamours cast. Cumulus' long white curls are piled high on her head in a messy bun, and she looks sweet enough to eat in her tanktop and Daisy Dukes. Cirrus, on the other hand, with her long dark hair, wears a pair of loose basketball shorts and a sports bra. They're both smiling as they approach, panting in the summer heat.

"Afternoon ladies," you say, "You wanted to get gelato too?"

Cumulus nods eagerly while Cirrus gives you a playful little eye roll.

"Mind if we tag along?"

You turn to Copia who looks as though he does, in fact, mind, but you also know he adores his ghoulettes and can't deny them anything, much like he can't with you.

"Come along, bellezze mie," he says, waving them into step with you. You really liked the ghoulettes - thought they were so charming (and beautiful), you never complained about an opportunity to chat with them. Cumulus slings an arm around your waist and pulls you close.

"He treating you right?" she whispers loudly, causing Copia to whip his head around with a pout. You laugh and lean into her.

"Yeah he's not half bad," you whisper back, giving the ladies a wink, "Just between us girls I'm using him for his money but he doesn't know that okay?"

Cirrus snorts loudly and grins.

"How much does being a Satanic cardinal pay these days, huh?"

"Since becoming the head of the Ghost project," Copia interjects loudly and archly, "A considerable amount. But that's entirely none of your business, ghoulette."

The ladies dramatically "ooooo" while you bump his arm with your shoulder.

"He's just sensitive because Imperator had to confiscate the Ministry credit card."

"Amore!" he squawks, glaring at you. You shrug with a smile.

"Boss what did you buy that pissed Imperator off that much?" Cumulus inquires, highly intrigued.

He's really pouting now, mustache twitching as he frowns deeply.

"I don't want to talk about it."

They look to you and you mime a zipping motion over your lips, giving them an apologetic, yet amused, glance.

The four of you walk in silence for a few minutes and you reach up to wipe the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand. Which is also sweaty so it really doesn't make much difference.

"This humidity, huh?" you pant, using the hem of your sundress as a fan for your legs, "You girls must hate it."

"We do," they say in sync, "but we run cooler by nature so that does help."

"Oh yeah?" you ask, fascinated, "because you're air ghouls? Or do you have some other infernal secret?"

"The air ghoul thing," Cirrus confirms before waving you over to her, "C'mere"

You step over to her and she looks to Copia for a moment, who nods, before wrapping her arms around you. All of a sudden you're awash with deliciously chilled air, and the feeling makes you moan. Cumulus, not wanting to be left out, embraces you from behind with a grin.

"It's like being inside an ice cream sandwich," you marvel, "This is divine. Copia have you tried this? Copia?"

The man in question is standing, watching the three of you with a peculiar look in his eye. If you didn't know any better you'd say it was...hungry. Predatory, even. It's as if he doesn't hear you as his gaze flicks between the three of you. The ghoulettes catch him staring and slowly pull away, the loss of your air conditioners making you whine.

"Come on, village is close," Cirrus says and you spot her giving Copia a wink and a grin. You have the distinct feeling that a plot is being hatched but before you can air your suspicions, Cumulus grabs you by the hand and drags you up the street.

"Look at these!" she gushes, gesturing to the small yellow climbing roses on one of the storefronts. She reaches up and picks a bundle, tucking it behind your ear with a soft smile.

"Beautiful," she murmurs, "they suit you."

Something about the way she regards you makes butterflies flit around in your stomach and you open your mouth to thank her when Cirrus and Copia catch up to you. Copia gives you a soft, knowing look that makes you cock your head but you stay quiet. The gelato shop is only a few doors down and is mercifully quiet. The owner knows the two of you by name and greets you warmly. You all place your orders (stracciatella for you, lemon for Copia, mandarin for Cirrus, and fior di latte for Cumulus) and step outside with your prizes.

"Stracciatella," Copia sniffs, "You've been spending too much time with Terzo."

"Oh excuse me, signore," you say archly, "Not all of us like sour fruit flavors. Next time I'm ordering two scoops just to piss you off even harder."

Cirrus snorts mid spoonful and looks at Cumulus, who grins into her treat.

"Guys," you say, playfulness dropping from your face and voice, "I have some really fucking bad news."

Copia looks so intensely concerned as he comes to your side and cups your elbow you nearly laugh.

"Dolcezza, what is it, what's wrong?"

"We've got to walk all the way back to the fucking abbey after this."

A silence falls on the three of you before Copia speaks.

"I'm calling a ghoul to pick us up."

#curator reader series #cardinal copia x reader #cardinal copia x female reader #nameless ghoulettes #rachel writes

84 notes · View notes

tophat-69 · 1 month ago

Note

Happy FFWF! Lets play a find the word game: Valentine's Day Edition! Find any of these words in your WIP, and post the part where they appear: pink / red / heart / valentine / chocolate / ribbon / love / friend / partner / boyfriend / girlfriend / husband / wife / couple / date / kiss / card / candy / dinner / flirt / snuggle / soulmate / together / always / arrow / candle / rose / beautiful / handsome / hug

Happy FFWF! “Red” and “heart” were going to throw things off a LOT considering some of my WIPs, so I went with “flirt!”

From the upcoming Chapter 3 of “trapped by a singular fate,” we have Vander getting ready for a shift at the Drop.

Vander’s never lacked for confidence, even at times when he probably should have tried for a little humility instead. He was born the son of a barkeep and a smuggler, and both professions require their own sort of charm. Most of it centered around stopping trouble or trying to slip away from it, but a bit of charisma can get you a long way in either profession.

It’s also true that flirting brings the tips, and having someone decent looking behind the bar can make a difference when your business is struggling to begin with. So he always does his scrub-up before he heads back to the Drop, because he knows he’s going to be slinging drinks and laying on the charm as soon as he walks in and that’s harder to pull off when you look like you rolled in soot. Not impossible, but harder.

No one could say he was a slouch about making sure he keeps up appearances.

But he sure as hell doesn’t dress out like Silco does.

Happy Valentine’s Day, and thank you for breaking the ice and being the first person to ask me anything!

#fanfic writer friday #ask me anything #zaundads #young silco #young vander #silco x vander

7 notes · View notes

late-to-the-magnus-archives · 2 years ago

Text

More of that Vast!Jon AU: Jon comes home.

Jon needs help getting off the plane.

Harriet - in scrubs - holds his good arm, stabilizing, as they make their slow way down the airstair.

Jon wears a lot of bandaging. It hides some of his face; one arm is in a sling. More bandaging on his arms, compression gloves encouraging circulation in each finger.

It is all cosmetic.

Simon insisted. “You can’t just waltz back home like nothing happened,” he says. “No, your return is far too public - which is ideal, Jon, believe me. Just wear it all until you get home.”

Jon does not have it in himself to argue with Simon right now.

About anything, really - with one exception.

Jon chose to keep his name.

Jonathan Fairchild does have a good sound, he can admit. And yes, it would go along with the whole back from the dead, new leaf turned over angle they’re going for.

But he’s already made his mark on the world as Sims. The people he loved, who died, knew him as Sims.

He’s lost so much since the crash. So many certainties about how the world worked.

He needs to keep his name.

“One step at a time, Mister Sims. There we go,” Harriet says, mask on, fitting into her role so well that no one even gives her a second glance.

And there are plenty of glances to go around.

“Expect a party,” Simon had warned him wearing the specific smile Jon’s come to recognize as sadistic.

It is certainly some kind of gathering, down there on the tarmac.

“Mister Sims!” That one’s a local BBC Two anchor.

“Mister Sims, we’d really love to get an exclusive of your experiences,” calls another he doesn’t know, though the badge on her coat bears the name of an online gossip rag.a

Jon is still on the stairs and should not be able to read her badge.

He stops, eyes closed, and takes a deep breath.

“Easy,” says Harriet. “You’re almost there.”

Jon doesn’t answer. He resumes walking, one step at a time, as though it pains him.

It isn’t so bad a party. Half a dozen reporters, a handful of “newsy” vloggers, various people who make their living talking about other people’s problems.

He wonders how it is they can’t see themselves the way he does. The greed on their faces, with his tragedy as a feast. The fake concern that doesn’t touch their eyes, which instead widen with gruesome curiosity that sends their gaze skittering over his bandages like spiders.

He’s always seen people clearly.

According to Simon, that’s because of his first “mark,” from the Eye, which Jon still doesn’t understand. He has no idea when or how it could have happened. He’s always seen like this.

“Mister Sims!” says someone he doesn’t know at all, holding up a cellphone with a green mic symbol on the screen. “Could we ask you some questions?”

Here we go, Jon thinks, because they practiced this, and his speech is important, and the hints at the photos he took even as he was plummeting toward death, driven by his need to create -

And then comes the only voice that matters: “Jon!”

Jon gasps.

He abandons the plan and pushes through the small crowd.

Martin. Martin is here, running from the terminal and toward him over the tarmac, and how he got permission to be here when he isn’t Press, Jon doesn’t know, and right now does not care.

He doesn’t know which of them move faster, but they collide like (a plane and a mountain) clasping hands, and Martin has him, arms tight around, and suddenly, Jon is sobbing.

He hasn’t cried yet, in all this mess.

Now he is, face buried in Martin’s neck, clinging.

“Isn’t that muffin Martin?” one of the YouTubers says, but seems to be the only one who recognizes him.

“Mister Sims!”

“Hey, Mister Sims!”

Martin puts on his best, brilliant smile at them over Jon’s head. “Thank you all for being here - hey, do you have business cards, or something? I can take your information, and when he’s ready to talk, he’ll reach out, I promise. It won’t be long.”

Behind the group, unseen, the nurse throws her hands in the air as though irritated, then marches back into the plane.

That was odd, Martin thinks, but maintains his smile. He is firm, and he is gentle, and he is absofuckinglutely not going to budge, and does not even blink as he stares the vultures down.

“Take me home,” whispers Jon. “Please.”

“No takers?” says Martin. “Going once…”

Three people hand him business cards. Two airdrop their email addresses. The rest scribble a phone number and email on torn pieces of paper.

Martin accepts them all. “Thank you all so much for your concern! He’ll be in touch soon, and you’ll hear all about everything,” he peeps brightly, and then turns and walks Jon away.

“Pleasant bunch,” Martin mutters.

Jon’s laugh is weak and wet. “I’m so sorry.”

“Shh. Not when they might hear.”

Jon clings to Martin’s coat with the hand not in a sling, and realizes Martin has a Press badge: it’s got his name, a stylized owl, and THE MAGNUS INSTITUTE in green.

Jon is full leaned, head on Martin’s shoulder, barely walking under his own power. He peers at the badge. “Did you get a new job?”

“No. A friend got me in. You’ll like her.” Martin kisses the top of his head.

“Home.” It’s barely audible.

“Do you need a doctor first?”

Jon hesitates.

Martin doesn’t understand. “We can swing by the hospital, or whatever you need.”

“I… I don’t. Please, just… I’ll explain when we’re home.”

“Sure.”

“Your home. I… I can’t go back there right now.”

There means Jon’s apartment - large, luxurious, and split between him and three of his team.

All their things would be there, belonging to the dead.

Martin understands. “Folding chairs and cheap coco it is,” he says, phone out, summoning a rideshare with one hand.

Jon doesn’t say another word until they arrive.

#tma #tma fic #fic in progress #amwriting #jonathan sims #vast!jon #lonely!martin #tma au

17 notes · View notes

adversarialharrow · 4 months ago

Text

The Controller Salaam Ismael

"Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; but rather fear him who is able to destroy both soul and body in hell." Matthew 10:28.

Salaam points the cigar upwards and closely examines it from bottom to top before, pointing it, at his eyes and staring directly at the tip. He laughs quietly at the source. Without letting go, Salaam flings the cigar forward a few times. He brings it in for a whiff.

The aroma of the cigar might evoke the enchanting atmosphere of a castle garden at twilight. Picture hints of blooming jasmine and fresh-cut grass, blended with the rich, earthy notes of aged wood and leather, reminiscent of a grand library filled with stories of adventure and love.

Salam opened his mouth and used his fingers to push the cigar down, far enough to tantalize the back of his throat before Salaam closing down on it with his mouth and pulling it all the way out.

The taste could be likened to the sweetness of a royal feast, with flavors that dance on the palate—think of warm honey, rich dark chocolate, and a dash of spice that surprises like a magical twist in a fairy tale He just smiles. Oh yeah. He’s so glad.

The texture would be smooth and luxurious, akin to the finest silk. The smoke might envelop you in a warm embrace, with a creamy, velvety feel that makes each draw a delight. Salaam licks the cigar from the bottom to the top before lighting it, and taking the big drag to accost an older father.

Salaam took another strong pull from his cigar, his stogie, and blew out of puff of smoke. It was in the same office in which Eric Dorger purchased his condo and plimby was in the air.

Present at the table were one of Eric’s college professors, a prominent social worker from his county, and a member of a Catholic relief service, and a high school teacher as well as his middle school gym teacher who showed up in his gym shorts. Also, present in addition was a aheh "friend" of the family, going back to oldest brother's childhood. A sparrow comes in through the window and flies into Salaam’s mouth.

"As said, I want you in his life I decide I want you in his career I want you with valuable credentials. I have arranged for a privy mistress to appeal the sensibilities of a human crypto wallet, based on nonmetal hardware ." This was going to be good. Seated was the coordinator for the Roker Ranch the ultimate party designed with strapping dudes horseback riding, rugged activities, and authentic life, enjoying lasting friendships in an atmosphere. Relax and connect with nature and escape the everyday bore. Book your experience today.

Salam slaps the table and pushes a card fold forward.

"You should have more than enough $Sling capital to be able to appeal to his mistresses, appeal to his saint, appeal to his higher lover, appeal to his remorse."

"Is she here?” someone asked. Everyone chuckled.

"You’ll have basic knowledge of all subscriptions activities, games, sports past."

He inhales deeply, and then he exhales.

"A bright and spirited girl, known for her cheerful disposition, she approaches life with an infectious enthusiasm. She cherishes her daily routine of caring for horses, viewing them as her closest companions. Introspective, contemplative, her kindness shines through. …making her a friend to both people and animals."

"I need you for a direct in-house consultation, regarding a business venture with an agent who I have acquisition to PHISH for domain seizing purposes to acquire said domain in totality. You’ll know all the people he cares about. Where he drives around where he likes to smoke his weed while he drives around including on interstate highway."

"When that car is not in the driveway. Basically you’ll be f--king his a-s with it all a-shole and holding for a sick respectful bro and a disrespectful bastard of a fat New Jersey Italian."

"We have to use something that is a bit disrespectful smoosh."

"A chicken ranch intended for breaded tenders In a sunny valley, there is Tender Haven, a unique chicken ranch dedicated to producing delicious breaded tenders with plenty of space to celebrate her culinary creations."

"Corger."

A collared button-down shirted man took a shot from a shot glass and slammed it on the table before muttering something-"Aggie.” I think "Preggo Aggie." He stood up from the end of the table and stretched out as right hand and said, "offer me a heart."

Salaam stared forward and detrimented like a pig roast dinner.

Tall Jack was a payment maker and was downcast as he began to leave the room prepared to take on the task of deluxe payment exchange for the purpose, which was the hardest, most longest task and thick too for a mistress. The obese dignitary commander of drunk fairies and rehab strong looked at him right in the eyes and reached out, clasping his hands real hard as if wanting him to anchor him in a moment of time and space and honor situation. “You got a great d--k and I look forward to working with you." A faint of smoke billowing out of the room as Salaam’s goons start filtering out. He exhales and passes gas playing with that cigar as he fills up his ashtray.

0 notes

abominationvault · 1 year ago

Text

Session 31 Sat 13 Apr 2024

Lots of homework for the DM this week. He has fixed Sprocket and Jorg’ath’s AC’s, which were broken. Probably some other nefarious DM stuff as well. Sprocket’s phone and computer are talking to each other, and he is… suspicious. But! He is level 574 in Skyrim, and can now claim the title of King Thick Dick of Fuck You Mountain. Dragons bite him and simply die of it.

No Hartvig this week as he’s at some kind of nerd-con, and sending us photos to make us jealous. Skabb’s mini-Skabb has been giving trouble, and Skabb now has bite marks on her arm. BWJ is in bed and we’re off to the races.

Nadia has invented a new bomb formula called Ghost Charge that hurts undead; she makes four, using her daily reagents. These will expire on her next long rest. We do some resting and shopping. Augustus and Sprocket want to sell all Augustus’ books. Jorg’ath has Nadia take the +1 rune off his chain shirt so he can sell it.

Sprocket decides he wants a gun; Nadia lets him borrow Bluebird (without ammunition…) to see if he can hold it. Not blessed with what’s commonly known as fingers, he might struggle to fire it. Realising he has spells (with which he is proficient) that will do the same amount of damage, he changes his mind.

Grabby Cat can upgrade bombs, so Nadia passes her her freshly-made Lesser Ghost Charges and she regurgitates them as Moderate Ghost Charges!

Sprocket has Wrin make him some adventurer’s clothes. Also, our diseases are treated! Skabb wants a Sling of +1; it’s very expensive. “… Is there anyone Skabb can sleep with to get it cheaper?” Having sold all his books, Augustus has a tummy full of money, so Sprocket offers some up. “Think of Augustus as a kind of party cash point, that you don’t need a card for.” She buys a new rune and Nadia fits it for her.

Luna does some robbin’s; the DM has her make some checks and roll a series of dice. Then he goes quiet. We are all mildly alarmed. She returns with fistfuls of treasure - gems for Hartvig to use with his new feat. Skabb wants to carve something into one of the citrines and put it on a necklace.

Skabb tests her new +1 sling on Hartvig; he raises his shield. The bullet still hits him. “Ow.”

Back to the lighthouse, and down a level…

We all sneak, following the expert (Luna), and conga our way down the stairs to the next map. Super quietly with his massive clawed hands, Jorg’ath opens the door into a damp cave with a lake. Mushrooms, trickling water. In the middle of the lake is a pavilion, encrusted with fungus. On it is a camp fire. Grabby Cat sniffs the air; nothing but camp fire smoke.

There is a wolf? Jorg’ath wants to know if it’s aggressive. “I guess what I wanna know is, can I pet that dawg??” It’s just a wolf. It seems to be friendly enough with the guy it’s with, but it hasn’t seemed to notice us. Jorg’ath steps into the cave and slowly walks up to the doggie with his hand out.

As the pair sees him, the man looks shocked. Both he and the dog howl in unison; Jorg’ath roar-howls back. The man looks at him and says, “cock off.”

“… Can I pet your dog?”

“If I let you, will you leave?”

“… Yes?” He makes a nature check - 13. The dog’s hackles go up, but she doesn’t bite him. He offers her some chicken. She looks at the man for permission; it is granted. Jorg’ath asks the man what he’s doing down here.

“None of your fuckin business.”

Jorg’ath explains that he’s here with the party and we need to come through here, but he doesn’t want to get into a fight with this guy. Will he let us pass?

“This is my fucking territory, and you are not welcome.” We don’t want to take your territory, just pass through. The man looks very nervous, eyes darting here and there.

“What will it take to let us pass?” Jorg’ath asks.

“Turn around and go back the way you came. There are other stairs that come down here. You can’t pass through here.” Jorg’ath pets the dog again and returns to the rest of us.

Dilemma. Push past the guy or find another way down? Luna would like to peer through the door and see what she can discern about this man. Trained in Society, Sprocket assists her. Luna tells us that she thinks this guy fits the description of a violent criminal she’s heard of in town, who is wanted for murdering some people thirty years ago. There may well be a bounty involved. He is known to be a werewolf, and has caused problems between the hippies at Stone Ring Pond and the townsfolk.

Is werewolf-ism curable? We’re not sure. If he’s not murdered anyone for thirty years, he’s obviously trying to be good. How do werewolves work in Buffy again? We decide to leave him be, and go the other way.

Jorg’ath uses his Ring of Ventriloquism to throw his voice to the opposite side of the cavern and call the dog the other way from us. “Here boy!”

Another staircase. This one is even smaller so we all pile into the room. Jorg’ath spots a bejewelled dick. In this room is what looks like a banquet table with place settings on it. Skeletons litter the floor, some clutching their own throats. Chandeliers light the room.

Grabby Cat sniffs the air again. Jorg’ath reaches out to one of the skeletons - a light comes up from the floor and flashes into the skull, and the skeleton animates into a corpselight. Initiative!

Sprocket rolls a 30 so he goes first. He Boosts Eidolon, and Augustus will do a ‘thumpy-thumpy attack’. He bonks one of the skeleton-corpselights on the head, using Sonic damage. 7 total damage. Punch number two is a miss.

Jorg’ath has a question. If he is trained in simple weapons, does that mean he has a specialisation? He has a new feat, Oversized Throw, and wants to know how it works:

He doesn’t have specialisation, so he does a big roar and goes into a rage instead, hitting the corpselight with his +1 Greatsword. 13 damage, nice!

Skabb. “Yarp.” She does Disrupt Undead and misses, using her ‘you showed up’ Hero Point to reroll, but it’s worse. She uses her new sling and hits for 8 bludgeoning damage.

The corpselights take a turn, attacking Jorg’ath 3 times and hitting him once. Another approaches Skabb and claws at her twice, hitting both times for 23 damage, ouch. Skabb, mildly: “Okay.” Another hits Hartvig twice for 22 damage, and the fourth hits Augustus for a bunch.

Luna goes for an Electric Arc on two of the corpselights. “Ba-zing.” The first fails its save, but the second one makes it. It still takes half damage. She backs into the doorway to go for cover next turn.

Nadia uses her new ghost bomb to shoot a corpselight, and crits! 16 total Positive damage, and she’s very pleased. “I’m going to join the Ghostbusters.”

Hartvig does a big 3 action Heal, with the only corpselight critically saving against it being the one standing directly in front of him. He heaves a big, shaky sigh. 11 healing to all his friends, though.

Sprocket does Dungeon Bidet on the one in front of him, but it saves. It does take half damage though, so 8. Augustus does a fist slam, with regular bludgeoning damage. 24 hits for 10 damage.

Jorg’ath. “That’s me!” (Skabb, sarcastically: “A hero point for the thicket.”) His first attack misses, but 19 hits. If it’s versatile can he choose the damage type? Yes. Can it be bludgeoning? DM: “No, because it’s Versatile P for Piercing.” Jorg'ath, grumbling: “It’s Versatile P for Piss.”

Skabb does some bad language and poor manners, a slight fuss, and then she returns from calming the baby and takes her character back from Jorg’ath. Sling, 26 to hit.

The enfeebled one hits Skabb, even though it’s enfeebled. Second attack misses, third hits. “Oh yay, I’ve got two hit points.”

11 slashing to Hartvig, but the other two attacks miss. ("I just got those back.") Augustus, against all odds, avoids all the attacks aimed at him. 37 damage to Jorg’ath though??? He rejects it. “No thank you.” Another attacks him as well, and he goes down.

Luna has a go at healing Skabber with a 2 actioner. Nadia rinses and repeats, and so does Hartvig - healing his friends for a measly two this time.

Some other stuff happens but I’m AFK. Jorg’ath heals himself I think, then starts swinging the greatsword. Howdydoodis! He sweeps the greatsword up as he stands, striking the corpselight and shattering it.

Skabb crits with Hydraulic Push for 32 total damage! She smashes it into paste.

Another takes persistent damage from Nadia’s bombs and dies, and the last remaining one hits Augustus - and another light rises from the floor. There are no corpses in here, so it floats through the wall and animates a skeleton from in there instead. A second does the same thing. We need to clear the place of corpses for the lights to inhabit, or this is going to go on forever.

Luna hides, shoots, misses, Hero Points, same roll. Second attack is a crit! 25 crit damage as well! She smashes a skeleton to smithereens.

Rinse and repeat for Nadia and Hartvig, and Luna bows out as she’s exhausted. “I’m too fat to stay awake,” she announces, and goes to bed.

Sprocket is up, and he has some fun new spells but this is not the circumstance to use them in. He debates trying some more doors to see if he can smash up any corpses that might be behind them, before the corpselights can get to them. He is standing on Jorg’ath’s tail, so Jorg’ath lifts him up so he can reach the handle. Corpselight in there! He Summons a swarm of cutlery. It moves across the room and bites (?) the corpselight but misses. Augustus does some thumping, but the corpselight is in its light form and can’t be hit.

Jorg’ath bounds like a running lizard-alligator-thing and opens another door. No corpses in there. “Ah, bollocks.” He opens another door, to find yet another door behind it.

Skabb opens the door behind her to find two corpses, and sets about them with her staff. 15 and 21 both hit, and the skulls are smashed.

The remaining light form corpselights starts to flicker; have we got all the corpses? The one Nadia found hits her for 14 damage, and the one Sprocket found hits him for 12.

It’s getting late and we’re down a rogue so we call it for the night.

#pathfinder #dnd #abomination vaults #abomination vaults spoilers

0 notes

gunslinginnhogtyin · 3 months ago

Text

It’s hard not to notice the color rising in the taller blondes face considering his pale complexion and Butch does a surprisingly good job at not conveying his amusement. Even still, there was no harm in messing with him a little, was there? He’s not some cooperate husk and because of his rather quick and short responses, the cowboy can’t help feel a bit curious about him. He’s no open book and that has his attention. Butch reaches for his glass as soon as it’s slid his way, his fingers brushing against the others lightly before they retreat.

“D’awww,” He lets out in playful disappointment. “But that’s th’ best part ‘bout bein’ b’hind th’ bar, ain’t it? Th’ drinks?” He retorts, smiling a bit wider at the taller mans playful words. Hey—he’d even seen a brief smile there for a second, however small! He brings his drink to his lips, sipping at it. “Mmm… s’pose yer right. This is prob’bly one’a th’ better one’s I’ve had.” He muses, swishing his glass around and watching the ice clink together. “Would be a shame f’ya got too messed up and put a little too much sweet in there.” He shakes his head in mock disappoint, drinking at his glass once more.

“…But f’yer not busy after all this, maybe I could treat ya t’a drink ‘nstead? Somewhere not here, ‘course.” It wouldn’t be the first time he’d offered a stranger a drink but this opportunity felt more natural. It wasn’t really even in a bar setting and this guy had made it clear he didn’t want to drink on the job which was fair enough, maybe a little boring, but fair. He couldn’t help but wonder what Blondie here was like a few drinks in him—would he look a little less uptight? Maybe he’d earn himself another one or those smiles in the process. “Only f’ya want. Can’t say I got much goin’ on ‘sides gettin’ ready fer tomorrow which I ain’t ‘xcited ‘bout, but.” He shrugs. “Gotta take what y’can get!” Another gulp and he’s a little over halfway done with his drink already.

Blondie’s question has his lax expression shift into a more distasteful one and his lips twist into an annoyed frown. His free hand at his hip, he can’t help but roll his eyes. “Yeah, well… ya’ll’d prob’bly be bored outta yer gore too if y’had t’be stuck here fer another six hours while yer manager rubs elbows with a bunch’a sleazeballs.”

Just then, a familiar voice can be heard calling out to him over the lively chatter and music that fills the room. Speak of the devil.

“There’s my rockstar~!” A woman with large bouncy blonde curls atleast a foot above her own head chimes, red heels clacking against the polished floor as she approaches. Shes a little taller than Butch so it’s easy for her to sling her arm around his shoulders all friendly like as she butts into the conversation. “I thought you ran off on me! I’m sooo glad you didn’t! Listen. Good news is, I got you in at the venue across town for a performance next week. Bad news is we need something fresh and different before then. So we’re on a bit of a time crunch!”

Her amber eyes turn towards the man behind the counter and almost instantly, a brilliant idea works its way to the forefront of her mind. He looked familiar, didn’t he? Well, maybe not familiar so much as he appeared reminiscent of a past star who had long faded into obscurity. Or had they?

“Hi there! How rude of me not to introduce myself. I see you’ve met The Outlaw himself, my name is Darlene and I’m his manager.” Her red painted lips curve into a smile as she extends a formal hand out to shake with her business card tucked between two well manicured fingers and if he decides not to return the hand shake, she sets it down in front of him in the counter instead with a pat.

Butch’s brows are furrowed in annoyance at the fact that she hadn’t allowed him to get a word in despite the surprise on his face at her update; she had moved right on with her own mission in mind it seemed, yet again.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a face made for the stage?” Darlene asks almost rhetorically, her gaze overbearing to those who might not have been accustomed to its intensity.

Butch shoulders her arm off of him and sets his now empty glass back down upon the counter, sliding it Blondie’s way. “Could ya go five minutes without talkin’ business?” He snarks at her.

“Could you go five minutes without drinking?” She bites back with that smile still on her face though now it seems a bit more venomous in intent.

A scoff leaves him and he turns his gaze back to Blondie, pushing the glass a bit closer. “No. Actually, I think I’ll take another.”

He isn't entirely sure the face he makes at his blending of countries, but he says nothing. It's probably best he's leading the way. At least he seems in a good mood, and it--- wasn't that important. Butch was special, and even if he was very wrong about countries, at the end of the day it wasn't like he was going back there, or he really had anything to be proud of. It was beautiful, but it was hard to feel it beat in your blood when you only saw it through the window.

At least he seemed in a good mood. That was the win he'd take to focusing on. "It is." He agrees. "Most artists fall int' playin' by t'standards. Least far as I've seen. You.... y'play yer own way. I respect it."

He can tell by the quirk of those brows he's intending something, though he's not.... entirely sure what. With the nickname and the focus though, those bright and gorgeous blues fixated on him, it's embarrassing how fast his face takes on color. He used to be in front of so many people and focused on, idolized without even a blink. Was it just because it's Outlaw from his favorite band? Maybe. But it's mortifying being so easy to affect. His own eyes drop to the drink he's mixing, until the sugar dissolves. A quick drop to the ice and plonks a large globe into the center of the glass, and pours a nice rye whisky over it , doubled up.

"Reckon tha's t' smart thing t'do." He garnishes it with a cherry to match the bitters he'd used, and a finger finds the rim of the cup, sliding it along the counter top, until the edge near touches Butch's arm. He's still looking at him, and after a beat he lets his finger slip off the rim.

He finds a dishrag, an excuse to stay here longer, and begins cleaning the countertop. "Work's work. " He shrugs. "I mean, nothin' t'complain about, not really." Certainly not to Outlaw, to Butch, and not to a customer either. "I shouldn't be drinkin' none until after t' shift. Don't want no trouble. An' what if y'decide y'want another one of them Old Fashioneds? Where' y'be if I was in no state t'help ya." He smiles, a tiny bit. "What about you? Don't seem t'be enjoyin' yerself much. I know y'were playin' tonight, right? Must be tired o' havin' t'be here."

#lionheartair #80’s Rockstar AU;;#(poor Artair having to witness this kendjdjdj)#(Darlene killing the vibes)

22 notes · View notes

daemour · 2 years ago

Text

Pairing: Hongjoong x gn!Reader (but not really romantic lol)

Genre: Fluff, non-idol au

Word Count: 745

Warnings: None

Summary: A late night photo inspiration leads to something more.

an a new, long awaited tipsy drabbles!! this is actually my second draft because the fist one would have been far too long and not taken me 2.5 hours lmao

optional pt 2

It’s not recommended to walk in Manhattan at night. But when have you ever had safe, good ideas? As a self-proclaimed photographer, some things you must sacrifice for the perfect shot, and safety is one of them. (And not following that advice is also something you should ponder.)

The city's lights were just so brilliant tonight,and paired with the strawberry supermoon, you couldn’t help yourself.

You find yourself in a park, getting a gorgeous shot when a voice interrupts your artistic journey. “I guess we’re after the same thing, huh?”

You spin around, and a young man with grey hair smiles at you. He’s skinny and petite, and yet his smile draws you in and gives you a sense of fire in his heart. It’s only after a moment do you notice the Fujifilm in his hands.

“Maybe we are,” you offer him a small smile, clearly hoping he would leave you and your socially awkward ass alone, but he doesn’t seem to get the hint.

He nods at the camera clutched in your hands. “Mind if I take a look?”

Your bottom lip finds its way between your teeth. You’ve never really shown your work to others outside of your family and friends—you aren’t truly a professional, not like he seems to be.

As if sensing your hesitation, the man whose name you still haen’t got smiles reassuringly. “No pressure of course. Sometimes it really can feel like bearing your soul to someone.”

The complete and utter understanding in his voice does the exact opposite of what it was meant to accomplish, and you get a bust of confidence. “Here,” you say, offering out your old and worn camera. The stranger is surprised but takes it with a warm smile and a small ‘thank you,’ suddenly seeming less intimidating and more…human.

There is a moment of silence as he clicks through some of your pictures. “These are really good,” he says, looking up at you and you avoid eye contact, instead focusing on the streetlamp over his head. “You’re very talented and have an eye for composition.”

“Ah, it’s nothing special, I didn’t draw inspirationg from my–” you start to mutter, but he holds up a hand to stop you in the middle of your sentence.

When he finally is able to meet your eyes, it feels like you’re rooted to the ground and yet sinking into his gaze at the same time. “Don’t say that,” he says quietly but with such intensity that you wince. “Although it’s often said that the best art comes from one’s experiences, that’s not always the case. Even the most casual pieces hold just as much integrity as the more soulful ones. It’s clear you did your best, and that’s what matters.”

There is so much sincerity in his voice that you can’t help but look away. It’s not often you get a thought-out opinion on your work, and hearing it come from a stranger just makes those words mean even more.

“Thank you.” You almost whisper your words of gratitude but the man takes no offence, instead returning your camera with a smile. When you put it back into its bag and sling the strap around your shoulder, he raises an eyebrow.

“Done then?” You nod, and he fumbles in his pocket before pulling out a business card and handing it to you. “I know it may seem like a scam, so feel free to ignore it if you want, but I actually run a studio and I would love for you to come in and chat more. Have a good night.”

And just like that, he walks away and is gone before you can even blink. It’s too dark to look at the card, even under the flickering streetlamp, so you put it in your pocket and it weighs heavily until you reach your modest apartment.

It’s only then you pull it out and look at the name on the sleek, silver card. Kim Hongjoong. A quick google search later and you almost drop the card to the floor. You just had a three am conversation with a world-renowned photographer.

Almost a week passes before you have the courage to dial the number and it rings for such a long time that you think he may have forgotten when a click is finally heard. “H-hello?” you practically whisper out and there is such a long silence that you think he’s hung up when–

“City girl.”

#tipsydrabbles #pirateeznet #kvanity #wkcnet #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez au #hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong fanfiction #hongjoong fanfic #hongjoong fluff #hongjoong au #kim hongjoong #ateez hongjoong

74 notes · View notes

sunflowersoldat · 3 years ago

Text

All is Fair~ In Fire & Failure

Chapter 6: All is Fair in Fires & Failure

Previous Chapter

Main Master List

Series Master List

Series Summary: Family is important, but so is the Family business. Everyone has secrets, some are deadly. Your the best in the business, but no one knows who you are. Tensions are high, will you raise the stakes or fold under pressure?

Series Warnings: 18+! Mentions of blood and violence, bad language words, smut, manipulation, gaslighting, death, trauma, please follow the warnings for each chapter.

Chapter warnings: 18+ Only! Bad language words, angst, plans of assassination, blood, implied smut (on top of the clothes stuff).

Pairing: Mob!Steve x Assassin!Stark!reader

Word count: approx. 6K

A/N: This took me way too long to write lol. I really hope yall enjoy it! feedback is always welcome, let me know your favorite part. Things are about to get really dicey really quickly, so enjoy the semi-calm we have.

With heavy eyes and a foggy mind you made your way through the House of Cards. You had taken this path so many times, you had entered a trance-like state. By the time you made it up to the security office, you didn't remember the journey up there.

It had been a few weeks since the incident in front of the cafe, your arm not fully healed, but you were no longer required to wear the itchy, inconvenient sling that Dr. Cho suggested you wear for a single week. But between Steve, Bucky and Peter, you wore it longer than you probably needed to.

The three of them fussed over insufferably, you understood their concerns, but at one point you had to physically shove Steve out the door for a meeting, locking the door to the bedroom as soon as it shut. Bucky was just as bad, the self pity and the never ending apologies, you made a mental note to never take another bullet for the man. And Peter, sweet, sweet naive Peter, was probably the most tolerable out of all of them, he mostly ensured your ice cream needs were met.

You sighed as the elevator doors opened, you were grateful for the reprieve. Steve had taken Bucky and Sam on some ‘business’ trip for the night. So you were left to your own devices, having warned Steve you would be going to your own house and bed for the evening. He reluctantly agreed. You rolled your shoulder to relieve some of the stiffness, your lips curling in a grimace from the ache that still remained.

Entering the security office you leaned against the doorframe, watching Yelena as she sat in front of the computer screens, lazily clicking through the different feeds. A bag of candy rattling in her hand, she poured a handful, popping all of them into her mouth at once. You raised your eyebrows clearing your throat, she nearly jumped clean out of the chair, it teetered as she whirled around.

“What the heck–” her hand springing out to steady herself and the chair, “you could have given me a heart attack!” She placed her other hand, still clutching the bag of candy, over her heart. “It’s beating so fast…” her eyes grew wide.

You chuckled softly, “You deserved that…” you wandered closer fidgeting with the junk that littered the desk, “if you’d like I can shoot you to make us even.”

Her green eyes clouded, shoulders sank, head bowing, “It wasn't meant for you…” setting the candy onto the desk, she rose from her seat, “Well, technically the client requested it to be you. but you… you and I both know the rules.” she walked closer, her accent becoming more prominent, “I’m sorry, did it hurt? I… I mean obviously it hurt, but did I ruin your shoulder?”

Your heart ached for her, her and the other Aces were the closest thing you had to real friends. You knew she would never intentionally hurt you, none of them would, and not only because it was against the Ace code, but the four of you were much like a dysfunctional family. “No, surprisingly. It went through-and-through, not a stitch of damage to the bones, arteries or any organs. Nice aim.” you lightly sock her shoulder.

She ran a shaky hand through her hair, “I was so scared, I thought… well I thought I killed you!”

You shrugged, you had been afraid of that too actually, the moment you felt the pain on the left side of your chest, you thought you were done for. You remained silent for a moment, “Well, I’m glad it was you shooting and not me.”

Rolling her eyes, she shoved you- pain seared through your shoulder again, you growled-

“Oh fuck I’m sorry!” one hand shooting to her mouth, the other gently catching you, she winced apologetically.

She narrowed her eyes at you, opening her mouth to speak- the sound of heels across the tile floor cut her off, the two of you turning to discern who they belonged to, when Sharon came into view. Her blonde hair pulled into a professional pony.

“Oh ladies, I’m glad I could catch the two of you, Смерт(smert) , you look good for a gunshot victim.” She smirked, quirking a brow, “you really pissed someone off.”

You turned to her, “Any idea who?”

Sighing she shook her head, “Unfortunately no, that request came in anonymously… But you and I both know I couldn’t tell you if I knew.” sighing she shuffled through the paperwork in her hands, “The Dealer has an assignment for you-” she handed you a picture of a warehouse on the riverbank, “I need this done.”

Your eyes narrowed on the black and white photo, it was one of the commandos’ warehouses, you should have held your tongue, but the words slipped out too quick for you to stop them, “We are still fucking with Steve?” internally you punched yourself.

Sharon’s gaze flicked to yours, “We are doing what we are paid to do, Смерт (smert-death). And this particular client is paying us for arson…” she narrowed her stormy eyes at you, “Is there a problem with that?”

You shook your head ignoring her question, “Who's the client?”

Raising her brows she crossed her arm, “That’s above your pay grade. You don’t get paid to ask questions, you get paid to carry out orders, I get paid to give them. And right now neither of us are doing our jobs, so get to work before I lose my patience.” she snapped, before spinning on her heels and storming off.

Scowling in her direction you scoffed, “Someone is in a bitchy mood.” You could feel Yelena’s eyes burning a hole in your head, you turned to her, her steady gaze fixed on you, studying you, “What?” you asked casually.

She shook her head, brushing off your question, “nothing let's get going.”

—

Yelena sighed through your earpiece for the fifth time within the past three minutes, silently groaning, you rolled your eyes, as you pulled your tactical gloves on, “What’s on your mind Yelena.”

There was a beat of silence, she cleared her throat, “Oh. Nothing…”

“Just ask the damn question, don't make me pull your teeth out.”

There were a few more beats of silence, as if she were trying to find the right words. You moved onto the infiltration point of the warehouse.

“Why’d you jump in front of my shot?”

Your heart stopped beating for a moment, “I don't know what… what you are referring to, I tripped on the curb, you know how clum–”

“Смерт. (smert-death)” her tone became serious, her normal playful attitude absent. “You stepped in front of that bullet, knowing it was meant for Barnes.”

“Who ordered the hit on Bucky?”

You could hear her take a deep breath, “So he’s Bucky now? Since when do you call contracts by their names?”

You swallowed hard, ignoring her insinuation, “Are you in position?”

“Yes on the count of three.”

“One…Two…Three.”

The warehouse went black, the muffled sound of confused men reaching your ears as you slipped through the side door. One by one you knocked each one out, as you crossed the catwalk, coming to the main office, “Top floor clea–”

The air was knocked from your lungs as a punch landed in your gut, your hands instinctively blocking the next kick your attacker dealt with their knee, quickly grabbing their ankle, you flipped them. The backup generator flicking on, light flooding the room, momentarily blinding you as your assailant recovered, swiftly jumping into a defensive stance. His cerulean eyes meeting yours, before traveling to the weapons and black playing cards on your belt, his brow raising, chest heaving. Your heart sank as you recognized probably the most ruthless of Steve’s men.

Clint. Or as the underground called him, Ronin.

He cracked his neck as he watched you carefully, before lunging at you, dodging the attack, you landed a kick to his chest, the catwalk creaking under you, the flicker of flames danced beneath your feet; Yelena had done her job.

“Are you still in there? Where are you?” her voice came roaring through your earpiece, you couldn’t risk responding, if Clint recognized your voice it was over.

He lunged at you again, this time when you dodged, you caught him around his throat, pulling him into a headlock, squeezing. He struggled in your grip, throwing his elbow back into your ribs, kicking and wiggling until your back hit the catwalk railing, almost shoving you over the edge. You tightened your grip, silently begging him to just go the fuck to sleep. He was strong, and your shoulder was beginning to give out.

The warehouse was in a full blaze when he slumped against you, you relaxed slightly, your shoulder aching at the slightest movement. Clint’s dead weight against you throwing you off balance. As you stepped forward to steady yourself, the catwalk creaked again, quickly dragging Clint as you moved for the door. The smoke clouding your vision, your lungs burning, as you crossed the threshold, the catwalk collapsed behind you.

“I’m out Удача (udacha-fortune).” you coughed, “Dropping…” you coughed again, fighting to clear your lungs of the toxic air, “extra cargo at the fence.”

“Extra cargo? What extra cargo?” she snapped.

Dropping Clint at the fence with the rest of the security personnel, you quickly make yourself scarce, jogging across the street to a dark alley

“There was extra security tonight, the intel must have been off.” you wheeze.

Yelena met you in the alley, leaning against the brick wall “That could have gone a lot worse…” she gave you an apologetic shrug.

Glaring at her you scoffed, “Yeah well it could have gone a hell of a lot better!” you snapped.

Her body stiffened as she drew a deep breath, “Who was the extra cargo? And why not leave him to burn?”

Your eyes narrowed on her, “Fuckin Ronin…” her eyes widened, Ronin was known to be ruthless, bloodthirsty. As far as experience gose, he was on par with you and the rest of the Aces, but he didn't belong to a code, and he surely wasn't bought with money. He answered to Steve and Bucky alone, taking prisoners and letting Steve and Bucky have their fun before discarding them.

“He didn’t burn because that wasn't part of the assignment.” you hissed.

Yelena shook her head, “So what? When has that ever stopped you? His death would have been welcomed, he is a thorn in everyone’s side.”

Ripping her mask from her face she stepped closer to you, “What the fuck has gotten into you?! You're questioning orders, sleeping with one target, stepping in front of bullets meant for another, and saving people who would be better off dead!”

“Sleeping with Steve Rogers was your idea!” you seethed, staring her down, “You said I was the original recipient for that bullet anyway, so I covered your ass! How bad would it have been for me to survive without so much as a scrape!? And don't even act like you’ve never questioned an assignment me and you both know–” Your argument abruptly cut short as screeching tires and sirens filled the docks, your eyes flicked down the street.

Yelena’s eyes followed yours, shaking her head, she turned running down the alley, “We can finish this later. Let’s go before we get caught…”

You moved to follow her, but stopped, something pulling you back, you watched yours and Yelena’s handiwork as the flames devoured the product, and the building, the red painted name on the warehouse melting away, ‘Howling Commandos’ Shipping Co.’

Three black SUVs came to a skidding halt in front of the gate, and three men got out. First, Steve wearing a white button-down rolled to his elbows, shirt taught around his muscles as he ran his hands through his hair in frustration. Second, Bucky in his normal black button-down, his weapon holsters clinging to his broad chest, gun drawn. Sam was the last to emerge, immediately beginning to clear the area.

They looked pissed, a cocky grin lifted your lips as they turned to the burning building, this was the part of your job you enjoyed; watching as one of the most powerful men in New York floundered in awe as his warehouse went up in a fiery blaze. He was foolish to think your brother and Thor were the only possible threats in this city. Your stomach fluttered, this felt like a sick game, on one hand you felt bad for causing more problems for Steve, and wanted nothing more than to make it better for him. To be there when he got home, allowing his frustrations to be taken out on you.

On the other hand, the thrill of the chase coursed through your veins, it was tempting to let them catch you in the act, just to see him riled up. But you knew deep down it wouldn't end well like it did in your fantasies, no, you would be floating in the Upper Bay come morning if they found you. You needed to leave, to ensure you were not found, but you couldn't, your eyes glued to the man you were playing against in the biggest poker game of your life. You couldn't help but wonder who would make it out, who would fold, and who would take the jackpot. This was a game you would lose either way, this double edged sword was sharper than you had anticipated.

To kill the man you have begun to love or for him to kill you for your betrayal. But who said you were actually going to kill him, and there was no need for him to find out what your true purpose had been…You shook your head clearing the thoughts, you'd cross the bridge when you got to it.

Steve’s ocean eyes were full of worry until they landed on his men cuffed to the fence. Barnes on the other hand looked like he was about to tear the whole city down, wary eyes never leaving the shadows that surrounded the building and across the street. The ever watchful, never trusting protector, eyes the color of a cloudy sky never missing a single detail.

Other men spilled out of the vehicles, pistols in hand as they rushed toward the building, indistinct chatter about finding their men trapped inside. Idiots. You may have burnt down a building, but it was only a diversion, you hadn’t killed anyone; at least not tonight. Clint was the first to wake, yanking at the zip tie you used to restrain him on the fence. Sam walked over, flicking his wrist effortlessly, the zip tie falling to the ground. Clint rose from the ground, you couldn't hear him, but from the look on his face, you knew you didn't want to be on the receiving end of whatever punishment they had in mind for the scapegoat. The rest of the men stirred from their stupor, some would get away with minor bruises, but others would need medical attention sooner rather than later.

Steve and Bucky converged on Clint, you could see them straighten, their jaws set as they looked around the area, instinctively you sunk farther into the darkness. You knew they couldn’t see you, but Bucky’s eyes narrowed as they landed on the alley you were in,

“Find them, they couldn’t have gotten far!” Steve’s voice boomed, reverberating off the surrounding buildings, and through your body, sending chills down your spine. His voice had a bite to it that had your heart racing, he was always the vocal one. The men split off in different directions to hunt you down. You’d stayed too long.

Bucky stalked toward the alley, he couldn’t see anything, but something in his gut was pulling him this way. He checked the alley with deadly precision.

You held your breath, as he rounded the corner, you were tucked into an alcove, slightly out of his sight as the barrel of his gun entered your vision.

Yelena’s voice broke through your earpiece, “We need to talk.”

When you didn't answer, she spoke again, “You are playing a dangerous game. Your personal feelings are beginning to bleed into business. This won't end well, you need to tell the Dealer to replace you.”

A few beats of silence passed, you prayed he couldn't hear her in your earpiece, “I’m worried about you kid, please just think this through–” Bucky’s head tilted, you ripped the earpiece from your ear, you crushed it in your hand, squeezing your eyes shut, slowly, quietly letting go of the breath you were holding–

“Bucky! Let’s go! We got a tipoff, they found one of Stark’s men a couple of blocks from here!” Steve’s voice echoed down the alley.

A small smile lifted your lips, relief flooded your body, he always had great timing, he was always the savior, even when he didn’t mean to be.

You heard Barnes exhale, his steps fading back down the alley. You heard the car engines start, and the sirens fade. Only then did you leave your hiding spot.

It was time to go home.

You pulled your motorcycle onto the street in front of your house, you stomped up the steps with your Ace uniform thrown hastily in your bag, now you wore a pair of dark wash jeans and a plain t-shirt. You toed your door open, then kicked it closed, tossing your keys onto the counter, you grabbed a beer from the fridge.

Slumping down onto the couch, you kicked your shoes off, and tossed your head back, finally able to relax–

Your phone vibrated in your pocket, a new text on the screen, ‘Come home? I need my Angel.’

Sighing you put your shoes back on, before responding to his text.

—

The elevator opened on the penthouse floor, as you exited, normally you would be stunned at the breathtaking view of New York, but instead, you were met with a group of men listening to Clint in the living room,

“No, I know what I saw, it was definitely a female, part of the Aces. I saw the cards on her belt. Wore a damn skull tactical mask covering the bottom half of her face.”

You continued to listen, Scott scoffed, “Give us something to go off Clint, eye color, hair color, anything! We can't chase a damn ghost!”

“Fuck you Lang! I don’t have details! They are trained to never be seen.” he stretched his neck, cracking it. The beginnings of a dark bruise stained his neck, “They wear blackout contacts in their eyes, have masks covering their faces, they don’t speak…” dragging his hand over his face he sighed, “Fucking bitch is trained better than anyone I’ve encountered before–” he broke off, lifting his gaze to meet yours. Your chest swelled with pride, you left a mark on Ronin, scared him shitless. Good. You were something that needed to be feared. His eyes flicked to the blonde sitting across from him, nodding his head towards you.

Steve rose from his seat, turning to meet you, your eyes traveling his body, his white button-down replaced with a regular tee, his knuckles an angry red, the remnants of cuts and bruises evident. “Come Angel, no need for you to hear any of this–” moving to look around Steve, you painted a look of concern across your face,

“What happened? Are you alright Clint?”

He gave you a small smile, “I’m alright little Ace, don’t worry. Just business.”

Steve nodded to him and the rest of the men, “Find out what you can, otherwise keep your eyes and ears open.”

The men nodded in agreement, most of them heading to the elevator to leave, Bucky heading to the staircase on the opposite end of the room. Steve led you to the stairs closest to you, his hand at the small of your back, leading you up the stairs.

“What happened?” you asked, you had to play the game, the concerned girlfriend, you were also interested in who they ended up picking up after they left you in the alley.

Shaking his head he sighed softly, “Nothing that concerns you Angel…”

“Did Clint get hurt? You seem upset…”

Steve stopped at the top of the stairs, “Clint is fine, just a little business, Angel. I didn’t ask you to come here to talk about work.”

Your head dropped, pouting, “Sorry…”

His finger crooking under your chin, lifting your gaze to his, “Don’t apologize, I’m glad you care enough to ask, but you don't need to worry about my men, they can handle themselves.” his nose nudged yours.

You wanted to laugh, but shoved it down, his men were not prepared for anything you could throw their way, Clint on the other hand, you’d have to watchout for. If he fought you again, you weren't sure you would both survive it, your stomach filled with lead at the thought of killing any of Steve’s men.

“Angel?”

Steve’s voice broke through your thoughts, laced with concern, telling you that wasn't the first time he had spoken to you, you hummed.

“I asked how your shoulder was feeling.” his voice lowering, bordering on sultry as he walked you backward.

Your heart stuttered in your chest, “fine… great actually…” you started to chastise yourself, but were cut short when his lips met yours, in a fiery kiss, your back hitting the door behind you, your thoughts gone the moment his lips touched yours, replaced with the need to feel him against your skin.

“Good–” he whispered between kisses, “I’ve been dying to make it up to you.”

—

Your phone went off in your pocket, it had been nonstop all day, and you couldn't wait to silence it when you finished closing the museum. Groaning you rounded the corner of the hall, heading to your office, skidding to a halt as a figure came into view. His slender frame leaned casually against the wall across from your office door, he looked up as the sound of your heels on the tile stilled abruptly. A soft smile brightening his shining emerald eyes, “We meet again, darling.” he purred as he leisurely pushed off the wall walking towards you.

Your eyes narrowed slightly, “Loki…I would say it's a pleasure, but every time I see you, your brother is not far behind.”

At your observation, his eyes flicked around the hall, ensuring there were no prying eyes and ears, “No, not today. You just get me.” a genuine smile split his lips.

Your body relaxed, at least you wouldn't have to deal with Thor’s grating personality, you didn't have the energy after last night, your body was sore, not only from your confrontation with Ronin, but Steve thoroughly tired you out. Blinking to clear your mind, you searched his face, waiting for him to slip, for something to give away the real reason he was here, “What can I do for you?”

Tilting his head, he walked a step closer, “I actually came to apologize for intruding on your evening the other day, it was quite rude of Thor and I to monopolize your time with..” he hesitated only slightly, “Mr. Rogers.”

You laughed lightly, “Ew, please don’t call him ‘Mr. Rogers’ that makes it sound like he’s ancient.”

Loki’s smile grew, laughing softly, “Well, ancient beings certainly tend to monopolize your time, you have a strong proclivity towards them…”

You grimaced playfully, “So it would seem…” there was a comfortable beat of silence between the two of you, “I appreciate your apology, but honestly if it wouldn't have been you and Thor interrupting, something else would have.”

He nodded solemnly, eyes meeting yours again, the deep green orbs devouring yours, as if they could see into the deepest parts of your soul, “You actually love him…” the whisper so soft you almost missed it.

Your heart stuttered in your chest, blinking in surprise, you scowled, where the hell did that come from, “What?”

His smile fell slightly, his brows furrowing, “That’s unexpected, but I can see it in your eyes, the silent war you have raging within yourself.”

Irritation bubbled beneath the surface, a faint tremor starting in your hands, “Excuse me–”

Almost as if a switch was flipped, Loki’s pleasant demeanor turned into something sour, his expression becoming angular, eyes no longer soft, but all consuming and cold, “Tell me Ms. Carbonell, do you enjoy the dark?” he stepped even closer, his frame towering over yours as he began to circle you slowly, “Because everyone seems to leave you there.”

Your fists clenching at your sides, your body burning hot, “You dont know what you are talking about.” you snarled through grit teeth.

“Oh don't I? Things are happening in your own heart, right under your nose, and you don’t even notice…” his voice hot on your neck, “open your eyes.” he hissed, as he rounded to your other shoulder, tracing his finger along the curve of your shoulder and arm “How is the ol’ wound?”

Shrugging your shoulder, you side-eyed him, “Healed, hands off Odinson.”

He huffed as he returned to the spot in front of you, he knew he caught you off guard, striking a nerve when you purposefully called him by Thor’s last name, “It’s too bad the bullet missed its true mark… and its Laufeyson, actually. I never took my stepfather’s last name…” he made a mocking face, “We never really saw eye-to-eye.” he winked.

“Is that why you killed him?” You shot back coolly.

He bobbed his head, frowning as he contemplated your accusation, then quirked a brow, neither confirming nor denying your words, “You need to use those skills of yours. Stop listening to what you’re told and listen to what you aren’t.” reaching forward he tapped your temple, you stood your ground, “Your eyes do not deceive you.” He circled you again, dropping his head close to your ear, “Those closest to you know more than they lead you to believe.” his voice reaching into the deepest part of your brain, itching the back of your mind–

Footsteps echoed down the hall, someone was coming.

His breath fanned over your neck, goosebumps fluttering down your spine, “You are looking, but you do not see. I cannot give you all the answers Death. But I can tell you, you have been lied to.”

You spun on your heel, eyes wide, knife ripped from your pocket, you were ready to attack, but he was gone the hall void of any evidence he was there at all. Taking a deep breath, you placed your knife back into your pocket as Steven rounded the corner,

“Oh hello love, I was actually coming to give you some mail that was delivered earlier.” his voice light, a gentle smile on his lips, falling as he read the panic in your stare. “Love? Are you alright? You look as if you’ve seen–”

Steven was cut off abruptly, his entire demeanor changing, speaking with a heavy accent, “Muerte.”

Your eyes flicked to Jake, “Заря(zarya-dawn), where did he go?” panic lacing your tone.

Furrowing his brows he moved closer to you, cautiously looking around, “Who, Muerte? There is no one here…”

“Loki. He was just here…”

Jake shrugged, scoffing, “Not anymore, that bean pole has you this shaken?”

“He called me Death, Заря(zarya).”

He gave you a disbelieving look, “That’s impossible, only those in The House call you that. How could he–”

The sound of the main doors to the museum ripping open then slamming shut shook the hall, followed by a wet thud. The two of you sharing a look before sprinting down the hall into the main foyer, skidding to a halt when a curly headed heap comes into view, “What the fuck…” your voice a light whisper in the air, apparently loud enough for the unknown body to hear, his head lifting weakly red rimmed honey eyes meeting yours. “I’m so… sorry Ace… nowhere… else to go…”

Your stomach dropped sprinting the rest of the way to him, “Peter?! Pete, what happened?!” scooping him into your arms you cradle his head as you turn him over, his young face almost unrecognizable, beaten and bloody, eyes already turning a dark shade of purple, slipping shut, deep red stains seeping from beneath his shirt.

“Jake! Lock the front doors! Get me something to stop his bleeding–” Jake ran past you locking the doors, bringing Steven’s jacket from behind the front desk, kneeling he began ripping the jacket, applying pressure to the wounds.

Your throat burned, vision blurring from the tears welling in your eyes, no, not Peter, anyone but Peter. Clenching your jaw you willed the tears to subside, but the attempt was in vain, they began splattering down onto the already damp fabric, Jake’s hand found yours, squeezing lightly, you did not meet his gaze.

“Muerta, you can’t help him, he is not your responsibility–”

“Shut up, go pull the car around and help me get him to safety.” you choked out, Jake didn’t move, “please go get the car–”

“Muerte, you cannot interfere. Nothing good will come from this–”

Your patience had run out, “Jake!” your eyes met his, a fire burned brightly in yours, full of rage, his face fell, there was no reasoning with you now. “He is a child, I will not allow him to die here, go get the car and help me load him!”

Without another word, Jake stood quickly leaving the room to do as you commanded.

You caressed his face, swiping the blood from his cheeks, “Come on Queens, stay with me…” your voice breaking, “please stay with me…”

Moments later, Jake burst through the side door, scooping Peter into his arms. You hurried in front of him, opening the door to the museum then the vehicle, helping Jake set him in the back seat.

Jake fished the keys from his pocket, dangling them in front of you. As you reached for them, he pulled them slightly out of your grasp, “Where will you take him, Muerte?”

Meeting Jake's eyes, you leave your hand open, waiting, “Someplace safe.”

Jake let go of a resigned sigh, “You will have a target painted on your back now Muerte. Whoever did this…” he gestured to Peter in the back seat, “he wasn't meant to survive…” he lowered the keys into your hand releasing them. “they will come for you.”

Grasping them tightly you walked around to the driver’s seat, “let them come.”

Jake watched you speed away down the alley, looking to the night sky he said a silent prayer for whoever had laid a hand on the boy.

Once Death sets her sights on you, there is no escape.

—

When the agonizing screams died down and you finished patching him, Peter lay peacefully asleep on your couch, his screams now giving way to a soft snore. Whoever had gotten ahold of him knew what they were doing, his wounds were meant to kill slowly. It was an old torture tactic, like a cat playing with its food, he shouldn't have survived as long as he did. You thanked whatever gods were listening that he made it to the museum and that you were there to bring him to safety.

Absent-mindedly, you stood at your kitchen sink, allowing the warm water to rinse the crimson stains from your hands, drying them, you reached for your phone, when Peter stirred. You walked to the couch, leaning over the back, his hazel eyes finding yours, “Ace? Where…Where am I? How did…” he trailed off, gaze leaving yours, his body fighting to put him back to sleep. But his gaze snapped back to yours, “please… please don't call Steve… he’ll kill me for putting you in danger again…” his eyes drooped shut, sleep winning the battle.

Brushing his hair back softly, you reached for your phone again, whispering to him, “sorry Queens…”

The line rang only once before Steve answered,

“Angel? You're up late, what’s wrong?”

“It’s Queens… he’s…” your voice betrayed you as your breath caught in your throat, you'd done worse to others than what they had done to him, but seeing Peter like that, something in you snapped.

“Angel?! What’s wrong with Queens?!”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, “He was attacked, Steve…” on the other end you could hear him curse, the muffled command for Bucky to get the car, “He’s alright, injured, but alright. I have him at home. I'll send you the address and you can pick him up.”

Steve released a deep breath, “I’ll be there as soon as I can. And Angel?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

You hummed in response before the call ended.

Returning to your contacts you dialed again, the line rang a few times, longer than was necessary actually, before he picked up.

“Howling Commandos’ Shipping Docks, this is Waaddeee we are currently closed.”

You rolled your eyes, “Желать(zhelat’-desire) it's me.”

A slew of curses sounded on the other end, his voice muffling momentarily,“Shut up!” clearing his throat he returned to the conversation, “Heyyyy Deathypoo, what can I do for ya?”

“Your location and targets in the past twelve hours.”

There was muffled screaming in the background Wade sighed, “Shut up Paul! I’ll get back to you in a minute, then you're gonna tell me about Francis!… Sorry Death baby, I’m in the middle of an interrogation, I’ve been following leads on Francis all day.”

You sighed, “No one paid you to take out any of the commandos?”

He laughed on the other end, “Ha, no I’ve been faaarrr too busy.”

You chewed your lip, “alright thanks Желать(zhelat’-desire)”

He hummed, “Mhm anytime. Okay gotta go, kisses!”

The line died as a scream filled the other end.

Sighing you opened your messages, texting Yelena,

‘Are you working tonight?’

She replied instantly, ‘At HOC. Dealing a game to your brother and Thor.’

A few moments passed, when you didn't respond another message came through, ‘Why need a hand?’

‘No. talk soon.’

Clearing your phone you tossed it through your open bedroom door, watching it land on your bed. None of the Aces had been responsible for what happened to Peter. That was a plus, that meant you could figure out who it was and make them squeal, no red tape or codes keeping them safe from you.

Sighing, you walked back into the kitchen, sifting through your mail Jake had left in the passenger seat of the car, most of it was bills, but a promotional envelope caught your eye.

‘Looking for a new deck of playing cards?’ ‘Order here’

Scoffing you broke the seal, within the envelope was another envelope with a wax seal, and a spade on the front. You opened it.

Again, like so many before, the plain white letter contained only a name with a location, date and time scrawled in black ink at the bottom.

Your next target.

Three days from now.

*About three hours earlier*

The group of assailants came to a grinding halt, their target stumbling into the history museum in Queens. Growling as the door closed and you came into view moments later, they couldn't hear you, but the panic painting your face was enough for them to consider their mission a partial success. But the longer they watched the more they realized this had become an utter failure. You had saved the little vermin.

“The boss is gonna be so pissed…” one of them said, as they watched you load the kid into your car, the tires screeching as you took off out of the alley.

“Guess we can tell him she is more of a thorn in our side than originally anticipated, the hit on her wasn't enough to scare her off…” the female admitted.

“Should we follow? Take them both out?” another asked.

“No.” the female spoke again, a vile smile splitting her lips, “We will teach her a lesson soon. One that will keep her out of the way.”

A chorus of dark laughter followed.

Soon little Stark, soon.

@dontbescaredtosingalong @texan-tazzy @tianamontag @daiseychaindisaster @silently-killing-you @buckyfan12 @leyannrae @justlovelifeblog @austynparksandpizza @captainson-of-coul @betareader7 @vicmc624

74 notes · View notes

mrs-gucci · 3 years ago

Note

Ben/Kylo + childhood sweethearts + everyone thinks we're married

Put A Ring On It [drabble] {mob boss!Kylo Ren x Reader}

(hope it’s alright that I wrote this for him!)

warnings: language, alcohol consumption. **no actual use of ‘Y/N’ in this fic.

word count: 504

Wild Card Drabbles

Kylo + childhood sweethearts + ‘everyone thinks we’re married’

When you’ve been dating someone since high school, and it’s been ten years since then, it’s natural that people would begin to ask about wedding plans. Right?

Well, when you’re dating someone in the mafia, you’ve come to realize, people don’t even ask about wedding plans…most people just assume you’re already married.

Of course, you and Kylo have discussed it already. You don’t want to rush into marriage, since you both come from homes with unhappy marriages and you’re both more than content with being in a committed partnership for the time being.

Tonight is a perfect example. Huge corporate event with some big New York suits that Kylo’s doing business with.

All evening, everyone you’ve talked to, they’ve called you “Mrs. Ren”.

“Mrs. Ren, allow me to show you to your seat.”

“Would you like anything to drink, Mrs. Ren?”

“What do you do for a living, Mrs. Ren?”

About halfway through the night, and two cocktails in, you’re taking a much-neede break at the buffet table when you feel a familiar, muscular arm sling around your torso.

“How are you holding up, dove?”

You chuckle. It’s a somewhat loaded question.

“Mrs. Ren is doing alright, thanks for asking.”

He sighs softly, trying to mask the fact that he actually enjoys it when you call him that.

“Sorry, my love. I have been trying to correct people whenever I hear it.”

No, he hasn’t. Not really.

Perhaps if people keep saying it, you’ll want to actually become it…

“It’s okay. I…maybe…”

His eyebrows raise. “Maybe…?”

You bite your lip to hide the smile creeping onto your expression.

“Maybe we should stop having to correct people…m-maybe we should get married.”

Kylo grins, standing in front of you and digs around in his suit pocket until he pulls out a big, beautiful diamond ring.

Your eyes widen and you look up at him with furrowed brows, chuckling softly.

“Were you…carrying that around this whole time?”

“Dove, I bought this a week after we started dating. I’ve carried it everywhere, every time we’ve gone somewhere together, waiting for the go-ahead from you.” He says, chuckling and scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “God, I…I hope it still fits you…”

Your eyes are swelling with tears at his words and you laugh softly, wrapping your arms around him.

“I love you so much, Kylo.” You whisper, then look up at him with a smile. “And my answer’s yes, by the way. I will marry you. In case you were wondering, not that you really asked or anything…”

He smiles, shaking his head playfully as he slips the ring on your left finger.

“Eh. I knew you were a sure thing.”

Your eyebrows raise and you laugh heartily, giving him a playful shove as you pull away.

“I hate you.”

Kylo laughs softly, keeping hold of your hands and pulling you back against his chest when you try to walk away. He leans down and presses a delicate kiss to your lips.

“Love you too, Mrs. Ren.”

{ answered for my follower milestone celebration event thingy }

302 notes · View notes

girl-of-many-fandoms · 3 years ago

Text

Stitches // 11

Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader

Summary: After the explosion at Nelson and Murdock, Y/N has no choice but to listen to Frank’s orders which leads to her crossing paths with someone from his recent past.

Warnings: none

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 BONUS

MASTERLIST

____

Y/N's POV

“Maybe you should get out of here, all of you should get far away.”

“Well would you look at that, little red riding hood has come to his senses.”

“Frank.”

The five of us were standing at the waterfront in the middle of the night, Amy was passed out in the backseat of the truck. Frank scoffed, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, he wanted nothing more than to take Matt’s cane and stick it up his ass.

“We can’t just leave you here buddy.”

“Foggy, you got shot and after the bomb explosion, I can’t afford for any of you to get hurt any more than you already have.” Foggy, Matt and Karen were busy talking amongst themselves, two out of the three obviously disagreeing with him on skipping town, leaving him to do this alone.

“Come on sweetheart, let’s get out of here.” Frank gently took me by my elbow to guide me away but I refused to budge. He leaned closer to me, his breath fanning against the shell of my ear as he spoke softly.

“Don’t make me throw you over my shoulder, let’s go, now.”

“He can’t do this alone.”

“You know what I can’t do Y/N, I can’t watch someone that I love die again. I can’t go through all the pain, hurt, anger. I can’t do it all again because that would ruin me, so get your ass in the truck, I’m taking you and Amy far away from this crap. Say your goodbyes, the quicker we leave the better.” he walked off leaving the four of us alone, not leaving any room for a further discussion.

“Y/N, as much as I hate to say this, you should go with him.”

“He’s not exactly giving me a choice here. I can’t just leave you guys here.”

“Go, I’ll be fine.” releasing a heavy sigh I closed the distance between us, wrapping my arms around Matt in the tightest hug I could muster up. Foggy and Karen joined in, she was obviously crying, her sniffles only made this harder.

“Watch your backs out there guys, I love you.”

“Same goes for you and Castle.” I broke apart from the trio and slowly backed away. Throwing one last smile at them I turned on my heels and trotted to meet Frank. He opened the door for me and I climbed in completely ignoring him.

This is wrong, Matt could use all the help that he could get right now and the only other person that has the ability to do so would rather pull the dead wife card on me and whisk me away to God knows where in this country. He didn’t try to start up a conversation on the drive back to our place and I’m so grateful for that.

Amy’s snores were the only sound that could be heard in the truck as we turned onto our street. Reaching back I gently shook her awake and she sleepily groaned.

“Wake up sleepyhead, we’re leaving.” rubbing the sleep from her eyes she sat up, still in a daze. Frank parked and we all got out and headed inside to start packing what we’d need.

I grabbed my duffle bag from the closet in my room and started packing clothes to change into along with some other stuff. Frank hadn’t come in yet to start getting his stuff which is unlike him, he would’ve been in here before me. Slinging the bag strap over my shoulder I walked out the room almost colliding into Amy in the hallway.

“You got what you need?”

“Yeah.”

Frank stood next to the table loading mine and his spare glocks. Amy shrugged at me, both of us confused about him not getting his shit together to leave, since this was what he wanted.

“Frank?”

“You have a way of getting under my skin Y/N, can’t tell if I love or hate it.” he walked over, holding out the weapons for Amy and I to take one. Rolling my eyes I took it from his grasp and stuck it in the waistband of my jeans.

“You’re going to get in the truck and drive all the way to Michigan, don’t stop until you get there. You get tired along the way, swap with Amy and get some rest.”

“Unbelievable!”

He’s sending us away while he stays here, great.

“Hey, cut the shit right now. You wanted me to stay and help Murdock, I’m staying but in order for me to do this, I need to know that you’re both far away from this shit and that you’re safe. Kid you remember the joint I pulled you out of?”

“The Roadhouse, yeah.”

“Good, you’re gonna guide her there and talk to Beth, try to find a place to lay low where we haven’t shot up yet.” he kissed her forehead as he hugged her, soon breaking their embrace sending her to wait in the truck for me.

I am fuming right now and he knows it. He knows how badly I want to stay here and help but yet still he’s shipping me away like this doesn’t have anything to do with me. I waited for the door to close behind her before I lashed out at him.

“You’re such a jackass, you know that? Leaving wasn’t my idea, it was yours and now you what, had an epiphany on the drive home?”

“Yeah, I’m a jackass for wanting to keep both of you safe. We can’t get into this whole argument now, you’re wasting time. Here,” he handed me the keys and a burner phone.

“When you get somewhere safe, call me. I’m sorry but I can’t have you here.” he pulled me closer to him, crashing his lips against mine in a rushed kiss as time was against us. Frank trailed kisses up my cheek and nose until he got to the top of my head.

“Alright, get going. You leave now you can get there just after noon. You see anyone out of place or if anything feels off, do not hesitate to pull that trigger if necessary. Take care of yourself and the kid, sweetheart.”

“Be safe Frank.”

“Always.”

Breaking apart from him I patted his chest and left him standing there, taking a quick look around the place on my way out the door. Amy was already in the passenger seat waiting for me; I opened the backdoor and threw my bag on the seat before getting in the driver’s side.

“This should be fun.”

—---

“Aren’t you tired? You’ve been driving for the past ten hours and haven’t complained once about your ass catching a cramp or needing to piss.” Amy adjusted herself in her seat watching me as I hummed and tapped my fingers against the steering wheel to the pop song on the radio.

“Do you have to piss?”

“No.”

“Good.”

It is currently 11:15am, the midday sun hung high in the sky as I continued to drive to our destination. Amy had fallen asleep again during the first five hours and since she woke up she kept me alert by talking about any and everything she could possibly think of.

“You’re still pissed off at him?”

“Not really, he has his reason for sending us away and I get it.”

“But?”

“But sometimes I wish he would see me as someone who can handle herself in these types of situations and not some fragile object that needs to be wrapped in extra bubble wrap of protection.” she fell quiet not having anything to say as she looked out the window.

“How much longer till we get there?”

“About two hours, why?”

“We’re about to cut that shorter, my ass is slowly becoming numb in this seat.”

We both laughed at my predicament and I pressed further down on the gas pedal ready to get off this treacherous road and out of this truck.

—---

“Lola’s Roadhouse, this is the place.”

I killed the engine and got out, immediately sticking my hands up in the air as I stretched my body. I don’t think I want to see anything that resembles a chair anytime soon. Amy started walking towards the entrance and I jogged ahead to catch up to her.

The roadhouse was fairly empty apart from a few men at the pool table and some patrons at the bar. The lady behind the counter smiled over in Amy’s direction but it faltered when she noticed that the young girl had company and it wasn’t the tall, brooding man that saved her the last time they were here.

“Why are you back here and who is this?”

“Are you Beth?” the brunette looked me over from head to toe, unsure on how to respond to that. I am absolutely positive Frank slept with her while he was here, I could tell by the way she kept sizing me up.

“Who’s asking?”

“A mutual friend recommended this place, he said that I could stop here and ask for directions to a motel or something.” a fake smile decorated my face as I spoke to Beth, it didn’t take her long to put the pieces together, some sort of recognition washed over her.

“Ah, you must be the one that got away, Y/N, right?”

“That’s what it says on my birth certificate.” Amy snorted next to me, quickly coughing to disguise it but failed miserably.

“Frank isn’t with you guys? I would’ve liked to see him again, I still owe him a thank you for saving my life that night.”

“Sadly no, he’s taking care of some stuff back in the big apple.” she draped the towel over her shoulder and propped against the counter, still staring directly at me.

“Oh well, too bad then.”

“Yeah, anyways, back to why we’re here.”

“There’s a motel at least six miles west of here, it’s in a secluded area, Berkeley’s is the name.”

“Alright, thank you. Can I trouble you for a beer?” I fished a ten dollar note from my pocket and slid it over to her and she pushed it back to me.

“It’s on the house.”

Not fighting her to take the money I thanked her for the beer and left with Amy. This time I got in the passenger’s seat and she eagerly climbed into the driver’s side.

I need to sleep, hopefully the drive to Berkeley’s isn’t too long.

—---

Frank’s POV

It’s after one and Y/N hasn’t called yet.

What if something happened on the road? What if they didn’t get the chance to leave the city? What if- STOP!

My brain kept thinking about everything that could’ve happened to the two of them on the road and it is starting to drive me insane.

Buzz…buzz…

Grabbing the device from the coffee table I answered.

“Yeah?”

“The next time you plan on sending me to meet a woman you once slept with, give me a heads up.” my shoulders relaxed a bit hearing her sweet, irritated voice come through the phone.

“How are you so sure I slept with her?”

“You really want me to go there?”

“No.”

“Wise choice, she was greatly disappointed that you weren’t here though, she said something about thanking you for saving her life. Amy told me the story behind that by the way.” there's a trace of attitude in her tone and I couldn't help the smirk that graced my lips.

“I never pegged you for someone that gets jealous easily.” she scoffed over the phone causing me to smile, she just confirmed my suspicion.

“Me, jealous? No, I’m just glad to know one of us was getting laid when things fell off between us.”

“It happened once.”

“Didn’t ask and I really don’t care. I just called to let you know that we’re safe for now, hoping that it stays that way.” she stifled a yawn on the other end, exhausted from the long drive.

“Get some rest alright, I love you.”

“I love you too.” locking the device I returned it to its original spot on the table and looked up at the three persons in the room.

“Alright red, they’re safe, how do you wanna play this?”

“Before we start, I just want to say thanks for staying and I apolo-”

“What are you apologizing for? You meant to beat the shit out of me, don’t apologize for it and don’t thank me either. I’m doing this because I promised her I would help you.” I waved him off, I could do without hearing this.

I just want to get this over with so they both can come back and I can try to build a new life.

----

MARVEL Taglist:

@dorks2022 @n3ssm0nique @chrisfucksblog @sophiaedits @peakascum @anonymoustip217 @iiddaaa @mintphoenix @hardcoppizzasludge @panaitbeatrice @tanyaherondale @creatingjana @calimoi @rootcrop @louisianalady @thummbelina @vicmc624 @leyannrae @janaev4ns @queenofkings1212 @believinghurts @poor-unfortunate-soul-85 @stumbleonmywords @inas-thing @blackcat420 @badasseddy @spiderlaufeyson @yesimwriting @blondekel77 @4-everm-0-re @sketch-and-write-lover @farfromjustordinary @haoluvver @garbinge @emmamooney @chanaaaannel @moonofheroin @glitch-bitch777 @overly-obsessed-with-you @just-arather-veryconfused-being @marvel-swagger @bernthalbabe @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @youarethereasonimsmiling @bookloverfilmoholic @kobababy @mshannah @eliwinchester-barnes @punkdalek

270 notes · View notes

theworldofotps · 3 years ago

Text

Maybe You Should Go

Pairing: Damian Priest x Reader, Includes Rhea Ripley Word Count: 2,630 Description: Sometimes people let their image cost them relationships.

Warning: Contains angst, like some sad, Rhea being a helpful friend.

I know I said the Drew Christmas fic was gonna be the last but then I got this idea and couldn’t help but write and now I wanna post so enjoy the official last fic of 2021. _________ Tag list: @hungmanhorsecarriage @writtingrose @omg-im-such-a-masochist @sjwrites22 @sassymox @new-zealand-chic @mrsacklesevansmgk @xladyxfatex @biforrollynch @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @demonqueen29 @itsicantbelievethis666 @lilred91 @xbreezymeadowsx @rebellious-desires @thiccc-rider-mcintyre @melblacc @letsgivethisonemoreshot @alination @ava-valerie @shortyiceheart @serpantscorpio8497 @thatpanpal @thatnerdwriter @wrestlersownmyheart @vebner37 If you wanna be added to the list lemme know. _________ Finally, it was time to leave, you were freshly showered and ready to head out of the arena with your friends. Slinging your duffel bag over your shoulder and leaving the locker room you make your way to the men’s. Knocking on the door you step back waiting.

“Oh hello y/n, you looking for Damian?”

“Hi Kev, yes please can you let him know I’m here?”

“Sure one sec, yo Priest! Your better half is at the door.”

“Kevin!!”

Going to push his shoulder you huff leaning against the wall. It’s not that you didn’t like being called Damian’s better half, although in all honestly, he was better. It was the fact that you actually weren’t his girlfriend. You were nothing more than best friends. Sadly but it’s better than nothing.

“Hey princesa what’s up?”

Damian smiles stepping out of the locker room and wraps his arm around your shoulder.

“Hi D, are you ready to go out?”

“Actually I already have some plans. I’m gonna go out with a few of the guys and gals. So do you think we could reschedule our movie date? I’ll still ride with you to the hotel to get changed.”

“Oh yeah, that’s fine no worries.”

“You’re the best thank you, maybe you can come with us!”

“That sounds like fun, sure.”

Kissing your forehead Damian goes in grabbing his bag and then together you head down the hall. Chatting about the upcoming house shows you step out the door thanking him.

“Damian! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Turning your head you look over, seeing one of the girls you think it was Jane walking over. She was from NXT that he had been spending a lot of time with lately when you weren’t with him of course.

“Jenny hey yeah I just got finished changing. I was gonna head back to the hotel and meet you all there.”

“Do you need directions?”

Zoning out the two of them you rock back on your heels waiting for them to finish chatting. Turning your attention back to Damian when he sighs, you raise a brow.

“What’s up D?”

Damian excused himself for one moment then pulls you a little away.”

“Well, I’m not sure how you’re gonna take this. Jenny doesn’t think it’s wise for you to come hang out with us. Not because she doesn’t like you, but because she's worried people will think you're dependent on me. And that I can’t do things without you. She said it may not seem that way to us but it’s how we come off I guess? And apparently, there’s going to be some of the higher-ups coming around in the next few days.

And that it may be best if we’re photographed apart. You know just to show we can both do our own thing.”

“Are you serious?”

“That’s what she told me.”

“It’s nothing personal Y/n.”

Jenny calls out, shrugging her shoulders.

“But if Damian wants to step it up in this business he needs to tighten the reins on his image. That means less time with you and more time with people who will make him look good. Like how he hangs out with Rhea. She’s strong, good to look at, has her own money…”

“News flash Jen I do the same shit they do if you haven’t noticed.”

“Oh I know I know it’s just your more low card and Damian here is moving up the ladder quickly. That’s what I’ve heard from some people backstage anyway.”

She shrugs and grabs her phone when it rings.

“It’s just for a little while princesa. Just to see what the boss and them think ya know?”

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this, especially from you. Damian who you hang out with outside of work shouldn’t matter to your image in the ring. I don’t care if you wanna hang out with other people that’s fine, if you want to go and change your character around that’s fine too! But to stop hanging out with me just to impress other people? I’ve been here for you through everything! Every up and down, every moment of doubt, all your wins and loses.

I’m not dependent on you, it’s nice having you around because you’re my best friend!”

You rub your temples and start pacing, you couldn’t believe he wanted to act like your friendship was something that could simply be turned off.

“I know y/n but come on if it’s only for a few days it shouldn’t be a big deal. This is a way for you to help me. We don’t have to stop being friends, just not hang out together in public so much.”

“Alright then, let’s start now. You can have Jenny take you to the hotel.”

Turning you leave the lot and make your way to your rental car. Ignoring the calls of your name you get in, locking the doors, and driving away. ~ “Was I in the wrong?”

Looking up at Rhea you hug your stuffie close as she pushed off from the wall. After you got back to the hotel and up to your room. You sent a text to Rhea and asked her to come and get Damian’s stuff. He would get Rhea’s single and she’d share the double bedroom with you. Rhea came without question, took your phone, and shut it off for the night. Then listened to everything you had to say.

“For being upset? Nah, mate you had every right to be upset and hurt by that. He’s supposed to be your friend and you don’t hide your friendships, any relationship for that matter just to better your own image. If they can’t like Damian for who he is and who he hangs out with are they really worth his time? Besides, Vince never cares who any of us hang out with outside of work as long as we aren’t shaming the company name or getting in trouble. I think Jenny just wanted to get Damian away from you because she’s got the hots for him and everyone knows you and myself are the ones he hangs with the most.”

“I don’t want to stand in the way of him taking his career farther, but being asked to not be seen with him just because I’m not one of the bigger named stars? I worked my ass off to get where I am, I may not be as big as Becks or Bianca but I still do the best I can and then some.”

Looking at the ceiling you blink back tears, you felt hurt by Jenny’s words and the fact that Damian actually wanted to go along with it. Your friendship and feelings for him were so important to you. And every time someone would ask why you were friends with him it was always the same answer.

‘He’s home. It doesn’t make sense to everyone but it’s nobody else’s business why we’re friends. Just know that we are and no one is going to change that.’

Damn you were wrong about that apparently, he was going to.

“It’s gonna be okay y/n/n.”

Rhea sits beside you, wrapping her arm around your shoulder. Handing you a tissue first to help wipe your eyes Rhea waits till you look at her.

“I know Damian, I know how much he cares about you. I don’t know why he’s being a dick right now. But I do know that no matter what I’m always here for you. You’re one of my best friends and I’ll do whatever I can to help you out.”

“Thanks Ree.”

Hugging her tightly you sniffle wiping your eyes again.

“I feel kinda silly for crying.”

“Don’t. There’s nothing wrong with showing emotions because you’re hurt. Especially with me, I’m not going to judge you. I would be hurt and pissed. Then I’d probably try and kick his ass but that’s just me.”

She shrugs smiling when you giggle and she hugs you again kissing the top of your head.

“Let’s get changed for bed then we can watch a movie and gossip or whatever.”

“Okay, sounds good.”

Getting off the couch, you both begin changing before setting down in your beds and starting a comedy. Since you had the next few days off Rhea dragged you everywhere to try and distract you from everything. Never once getting upset when you’d start crying or fuming again. Damian had sent you a couple of texts trying to get a response from you. Until Rhea went to his room for a, in her words ‘lovely little chat where I told him to give you some space.’ So the texts stop, fans quickly noticed the recent lack of pictures you and Damian posted of each other. They started commenting, tweeting, and even dming you about it. Rhea posted the same comment and tweet. ‘Ask archerofinfamy about that one’

When you finally traveled to the next city, Rhea caught a slight head cold. Not wanting your friend to suffer backstage alone in a locker room you had her stay behind. Promising to return with soup and ‘something for your damn nose because I can’t sleep when you barely breathe.’ You head off to the arena for your match. You wanted to get in and out quickly so you could get back to take care of your friend.

Making your way through the backstage area greeting a few of your coworkers you stop when you see Damian talking to Vince. Quickly pulling your headphones out you slip them in, blasting your music and walking past them keeping your eyes to the ground. Feeling an arm on your shoulder you slowly turn to look at Vince who smiled at you. Little creepy.

“Just the person I needed to see, y/n you’re friends with Damian I want your opinion on something. I’ve been juggling around a few ideas. I’m loving the rockstar look he’s got going now, and loved the way he celebrated his win for the NXT North American belt. Should we go in a direction more that way? Damian is so sure the fans wouldn’t like it. I think they’d love it.”

Glancing between them you look at Vince.

“However you think is best sir, whatever helps better his image. Excuse me please, I have a match to get ready for.”

Vince grins in triumph before turning his attention back to Damian giving you the chance to slip away to the ladies locker room. Quickly changing you send a text to Rhea letting her know you made it. Then place your phone away to start warming up. ~ “You did so fantastic! I can’t believe you did the riptide that was cool as shit!”

Smiling at Rhea’s excitement you watch as she eats some of her soup. After your match, you left the arena grabbed some stuff for Rhea, and came back. The Aussie had watched Raw and the happiness that you did decently on her movie was worth the ache you were feeling. You came down on your knee wrong but still managed to win.

“Thanks, I just thought it would be interesting to try, and since you’ve been so helpful to me this last week.”

“It was awesome, you need to work on the knee a bit but it was impressive for your first- you expecting someone?”

She asks stopping when a knock sounds on your door.

“No unless it’s one of the girls.”

Getting up, Rhea wraps her blanket tighter around herself as she goes to answer it. Going to the bathroom you use it then wash your hands pausing when you hear Rhea.

“I really don’t think you should be here man.”

“Rhea come on, it’s been a week I at least need the chance to talk with y/n.”

“You should have thought about that before trying to push your friendship aside!”

Drying your hands you make your way back into the room.

“Ree, it’s okay. Let him come in and say whatever he needs to. You need to finish your soup and take your medicine.”

You softly command, taking her arm and dragging her back to her bed. Making sure she was comfortable before taking a breath and looking at Damian.

“Can I help you with something?”

“We need to talk.”

“Alright.”

“In private.”

“Damian it’s almost eleven-thirty at night and I’m in my pajamas. I’m not leaving the hotel room. We can, I guess um sit over there. Rhea stay put and finish eating I’ll be back.”

“Yes, mother.”

Smiling at her you make your way to the small sitting room connected to the hotel room. Sitting in a chair you bring your legs up under you.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Priest?”

Damian sits down and rubs a hand over his face.

“I just wanted to talk to you, we haven’t talked since you left the parking lot.”

“You wanted to push our friendship in the dark. Act like I wasn’t good enough to be seen in public with you, I didn’t think we needed to speak right away.”

“I never said you weren’t good enough, I never once said that.”

“You didn’t have to, your actions and other words are exactly how it came across. You hurt me Damian you really did, look I get wanting to do whatever you can to improve your image. But I would never put our friendship off or act like we weren’t friends. That’s not something you do to someone.”

“I know you’re angry but y/n I mean it when I say I did not intend to hurt you. That’s the last thing I ever want to do. You’re my favorite woman, my best friend. I just wasn’t expecting for them to give me an opportunity so soon after joining the main roster.”

Rubbing your hands together you look around the room then back at Damian.

“Let me ask you something, what would you have done if we were dating and someone told you what Jenny did? We would have to hide our relationship to better your image.”

“That would be different.”

“It’s not different, the only difference is the labels would be boyfriend and girlfriend not best friends.”

“It was stupid on my part and I’m sorry y/n truly and deeply sorry.”

“I know you are but it’s going to take some time. You can’t just come here and expect me to forgive you right away. I just, I need to know you won’t do something like that to me again. I need more time to think and figure out where this puts us.”

“I don’t understand why you’re fighting me so hard on this?”

Pinching the bridge of your nose to keep your frustrated tears at bay you stand up and facing away from him.

“It would have hurt if we had just been friends. It hurt me more because my feelings have been past the point of friendship for a long time. And now I’m trying to get over that.”

“Y/n I..”

“Please Damian, do us both a favor. I really think you should go. Think about what I said, maybe you’ll understand where I’m coming from.”

Standing and moving towards you Damian stops short when he sees Rhea standing by the door. Looking at the floor he nods when she motions for him to leave.

“I’ll speak with you soon.”

Listening to him exit the hotel room you bury your face in your hands. Rhea walks over pulling you into a tight hug pressing a soft kiss to your head.

“It’s gonna be okay, somehow it will be. I promise.”

Rhea rocks you both side to side gently watching as rain starts falling outside, she just hoped her promise came true.

#wwe #damian priest #damian priest x reader #damian priest fanfiction #rhea ripley #angst #sorta fluff from rhea? or comfort at least

321 notes · View notes

jaeminscoffee · 4 years ago

Text

Daddy Issues | S. Jn

Pairing | Seo Johnny x Fem!Reader

Genre | Smut, fluff

Wc;type | oneshot: 3.93k [not proof read]

Warning(s) | Pwp, dilf!johnny, y/n's a pillow princess, daddy kink, overstimulation, teasing, edging, dacryphilia, slight voyeurism, degradation kink, heavy use of the words 'doll, princess, slut, pretty, angel', typical lyra smut, i made haechan johnny's son (i was about to write changbin as johnny's son but decided against it) age gap, unprotected sex ( the Reader's on pills. Remember this is a fiction, don't play the wrong card irl) filth.

a/n- i found this request buried in my asks and was tempted to write it. Sure, the warning looks intimidating, but i know you wanna read it, y'all whores (ily) shoutout to @bakugou-is-my-bae @cvntzennie and @jenopollo for helping me decide what to post first! @suhpersonic

Minors try not to interact! <3

Age is just a number, so surely, there's nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed of, right?

There's no reason for you to not fall for the friendly neighborhood bachelor, well not so bachelor bachelor, since he does go around asking people who knows of his marriage to pretend it never took place.

Johnny's hot, super hot. Has the build of a supermodel. Has the face that one can only imagine belongs to a greek god, as you'd jokingly tell him how he seemed to be god's favorite and how you loathe Aphrodite for showing favoritism (which would always end up with you getting a very sultry, teasing look from the lad)

Johnny has the type of personality that women can only wish the entirety of the male species would possess. He's an absolute sweetheart, life of the party, definitely the center of attention wherever he goes. And oh god, does he have an immaculate fashion sense.

But Johnny's also the father of Donghyuck. Your best friend.

More than being ashamed about the fact that you actually fell in love with a man who has a child of your age, it was the fact that you had to fall for Donghyuck's father of all people.

Donghyuck is a sweetheart, definitely got his personality from his father but he's also got that glare that could creep the Lord's of the darkness from his father. He's got so much from his father that the resemblance is uncanny.

You'd not want to get onto hyuck's bad side since you've gotten first hand experience at stopping him from almost committing homicide to someone who spoke shit about his friends, more specifically, you.

But Hyuck's not in town. So a little fun with Mr. Suh wouldn't hurt anyone, correct? After all, you're still only a human with desires and the want to take risks.

You'd always not so subtly drop hints at Johnny and he'd always give you that look that would have slick collecting itself between your thighs. A warning look.

A look that said, "cross the line and you'll get it"

But that's the thing, you want to get it and will do anything to get it.

"Y/n."

You'd ask yourself less than a million times if you want to do this or not.

Sure, you weren't this hesitant when you decided to sext your best friend's father knowingly when he was in business mode to irk him up but that's one thing.

And having to confront the same father who left a message smaller than a sentence that completely disregarded all the obscene text and images to show that he's not the slightest bothered or suprised by your behavior for that matter was another thing.

"Tomorrow at mine."

It's almost as though he deals with hormonal teenagers one as such as yourself on a daily basis and that thought kind of backfired at you considering the whole 'Let's piss Johnny off so that he'd finally give me what i want' agenda.

Ironic, huh?

"Mr. Suh." you start hesitantly, unsure of what to call him, scared of what his reaction would be after your inappropriate shenanigans last night.

Your stiff demeanor broke down a little with just a hint of shiver passing down your spine as you watch his features contort into a subtle but cocky smirk, "So now you're being all formal,"

"Well, what else would you like me to address you as?" you inquire, feigning oblivion to his tone and what he's implying at. "You tell me, doll. You seemed to have a lot of names to call me last night," he takes a step forward, prompting you to walk a step backwards, further into the corridors of his apartment and away from the actual location.

"I do not know what you're talking about.. " you let your voice shrivel towards the end, eyes wandering around the complex, finding interest in every small detail as you avoid Johnny's teasing gaze.

"You don't?" Johnny takes another step forward, latching his hands onto your forearms to prevent you from stepping further away, "You must have had a heavy sleep to forget all that you did last night," his voice drops dangerously low as he begins to walk backwards and back into the safety of his apartment, all the while keeping his gaze fixated on you.

"That won't do, would it? How about we take a walk down the memory lane? And see if that rings any bell?" He brushes your hair away from its static position on your shoulder, allowing him to appreciate all those fine details of your shoulders and neck that are exposed from your selection of clothing, an off shoulder.

"How about we don't...?" You ask with skepticism, jolting slightly when you hear the door shut behind you and at the new intrusion of personal space by the lad.

"Why are you acting all shy now, Y/n? Weren't you the one so eager to get into her best friend's fathers pants? Just be the whore you are, darling. Your facade's fooling no one." okay you definitely didn't see that coming.

Johnny's expressions morph into that of mischief as he watches your eyes grow wide and mouth fall ajar, "Am i not correct? Are you not a whore?" he asks with an eyebrow quirked up in a questioning manner.

You don't reply, almost as though the question was meant to linger in the open and that it was a rhetorical one. What you didn't expect, however, was for Johnny's hands to find pursuit around your neck, not necessarily applying pressure, but there as a warning.

"Answer me."

"I'm not.." you answer with a feeble voice, internally cringing at how squeaky you sound which only added to Johnny's amusement.

"Really? Because I don't think good girls go around drooling at a divorced man, her friend's father for that matter and definitely do not send lewd images and voice out their fantasies to a guy twice their age, still want to pretend you're innocent? Or you admit it and we cut down the chase?"

"Yes, I am." you breathe out when his fingers tighten around your neck, a triumphant smile making its way onto his lips. Yet, Johnny felt the need to keep pushing,

"you're what?"

"I am what you said I am," you speak, trying to avoid looking at the scrutinizing look on his face which seemed futile as he had his arms wrapped around your neck, keeping your head in place.

"I want to hear you say it, doll. I need to hear you say it." At this point Johnny's intent was to get you into a flustered puddle in his hold and it sure as hell was going in that direction, seeing how you can't even hold his gaze for more than a few seconds in a shot.

"I am.. I am a who-"

The sound of a phone ringing loud cut you off midway through your sentence, to which you were absolutely relieved. Johnny only seemed to grow annoyed the more he heard the phone ring. With a loud huff, he lets you go, not before giving you a stern look, "Go to my room." he instructed, making his way to the study.

You let out a breath you've been holding in unknowingly the moment he steps away from you. You watch his figure retreat from you with awe, only now realizing how messy you felt between your legs and how your knees keep buckling.

"Oh Hyuck!" you hear Johnny exclaim into the phone the minute you step forward to follow his command.

Your best friend is on call with the guy you're about to fuck.

Your blood runs cold as you shakily make your way into the apartment and towards the bedroom, shrugging off your sling bag, hanging it behind the door as you place your phone on the bedside table to wipe your hands dry from all the sweat that had accumulated at the palm of your hands.

"Yeah, I'm fine, about to eat to my dinner actually" you hear the moment to make yourself comfortable at the edge of the bed, looking over to the door where Johnny stood with his arms across his chest, the other holding up the phone as he leans his weight onto one shoulder, leaning into the doorframe.

You take the time to really appreciate his appearance. He adorned nothing more than a simple grey sweat and tight black tee but he seemed ready to walk down a runway at any given moment now. His long hair, slightly disheveled looking almost intentionally messed up, compliments his features. And oh his features.

The everlasting smirk stayed still on his lips, moving as he exchanged words with his son.

You only come back to your senses when Johnny snapped his free hand in front of you, gaining your attention. He points at his own shirt, then points at you, mouthing 'off' while he listens to Donghyuck speak about whatever he's speaking.

"Really? Jeno said that? Tell him I'm more than willing to welcome him as my gym partner, the lad seems strong" Johnny makes a quick move to remove the gadget from his ear, before holding it in front of him after placing the call on speaker mode

Your eyes widen the moment you hear the disturbance in the background and Donghyuck's voice resonate through the room. "no?? Why would you want to work out with him? He'll only make you feel old, you know?"

"Says the one who still can't beat me at arm wrestling. If anything, i think Jeno would make the perfect gym buddy for me," Johnny raises an eyebrow at your defiance, cocking his head towards the side, staring down at you with a predatory look, "Hyuck, you know, Y/n-" you scramble to take your shirt off at the mention of your name on the call, "-stopped by earlier" he lets out a silent laugh of disbelief.

"Oh? Oh yeah! I'd told her I'd give her book back before I left but I forgot, did you perhaps give it back to her?" Donghyuck questions.

"I figured you must've forgotten so, yeah i did." Johnny replies, pushing himself off of the doorframe, now walking towards you.

"Man, I miss her! I might facetime her after I end the call with you," Johnny sets down the phone beside you on the bed, leaning down, placing both his hands on either side of your lap, finding comfort at the crook of your neck,

"I remember her mentioning something about her cousin coming over? Maybe wait for an hour or so before calling her" his lips graze against your neck each time he spoke, you let out a tiny whimper at the so longed feeling, only to earn yourself a small bite at the earlobe, immediately accompanied by a hand over your mouth, "you need to be quiet, doll. Or my son would find out how much of a slut his best friend is," he whispers in your ear.

"Yeah? Did she mention which one?"

"No, not really, she kinda just stormed out after getting what she wanted" Johnny creates a trail of kisses all the way from your neck to your shoulders, down the collarbone while one of his hand worked to unhook your bra, "Yeah, she's weird like that," you hear Donghyuck let out a chuckle as you whine into Johnny's palm, your figure slightly trembling from the fear of getting caught all the while being excited about the risky situation he's put the two of you in.

"Anyways, I'll call you tomorrow? The boys are coming over now so I got to go! Night, dad!" Donghyuck speaks up again, "Night, Hyuck."

You hear the beep indicating the call has ended. Johnny let's his hand drop from your mouth and makes its way towards your hair, brushing through the strands before pulling at it with a firm grip, "I had my son on call and here you are making all these sweet noises, you wanted to get busted, doll?"

"It's not my fault! You-"

"ah-ah! Don't talk back, angel. You're already in deep trouble, don't want to add onto that now, do we?" He makes a swift move to have you lying on your back, your torso completely exposed to him while he remains clothed.

"But Johnny-" you whine, jolting when you feel his hands caressing the soft flesh of your inner thighs, "How do you think Hyuck would feel about this?" his hands travel further north, cupping your heat from underneath your skirt. "fuck, you're drenched"

"Now tell me, pretty girl, what are you supposed to be calling me, now?"

"Johnny-, tha-that was a joke! I don't have daddy kin-" you try clenching your thighs close from the sudden attention your core was receiving. Johnny wholeheartedly lets out a laugh at your attempt to hide your true feelings, making a quick act of disregarding your soaked panties somewhere behind him.

"Darling, the more you deny it, the longer we keep going at it-" his thumbs at your clit, applying pressure but making no move to quench your needs. You let out a sigh of bliss at the feeling, your back arching off of the sheets at the sensation.

In any other situation, you'd be embarrassed at how sensitive you'd gotten just from all the dirty talking and looks Johnny passed you. But that's the catch, he's Johnny, the only one who can get you this sensitive while doing the bare minimum.

"Say it, Y/n."

"No, Johnny! It's-it's embarrassing.." you plead with your eyes, grinding your hips against his fingers, earning a satisfied, dirty look from the lad.

"Very well.. I'll just draw it out of you"

Without warning, Johnny with little to no resistance, slides two slender digits into your wetness, setting a pace fast enough to draw loud chains of cries from your mouth.

"You hear that, doll? You hear how fucking wet you are? Hm?" he growls animalistically, the thumb that remained on your clit now moving in circles with a motive to get you undone in seconds.

"Johnn-..!" you whine out, feeling your orgasm growing so close that you could almost taste it, "Still going at that, angel?" he questions, not really expecting an answer as he soaks up the pleasured look on your face. "Johnny- I'm close.. -" you fail to notice the mischievous grin growing on his face as he speeds up the movement of his fingers.

"Of course you are, doll" He feels you clench around his fingers, back coming off of the mattress as you ready yourself for your release, waiting until the last minute to draw his finger out.

"Why would you-? Johnn-I was so close!" you cry out as you sense your core clench around nothing, whining about the incomplete orgasm. "Why would I give you what you want when you wouldn't comply, baby? That's not how this works." He shrugs, licking his fingers clean of your essence, moving up from the bed to remove the shirt that seemed to be suffocating now.

"Johnny, please!" you whine louder, rubbing your thighs together to create some sort of friction, all unsatisfactory as it did not meet the same intensity as that of his fingers.

"Please what, doll?" He smirks, knowing the ball is in his court and that you'd had to give in any moment now. Johnny leans down once again, drawing lazy circles at your clit, using his other hand to hold himself up above and close to you, his minty breath which had a hint of coffee fanning your face as you whimper, finally feeling your high building itself up again. "Spit it out, princess, you know you want to." he speaks in a soft voice.

"Please..please" you beg for nothing in particular, getting all worked up again, "The begging's lovely, doll. But you're starting to anger me here, will you say it? Or should I leave you hanging again?"

You mutter prayers under your breath, hoping he wouldn't actually leave you hanging again, "Fine-" he moves again to remove his fingers from you to deprive you of pleasure all over again when you finally latch onto his wrist, keeping his hands in place blurting out, "Daddy! I'm so-sorry.. There, daddy, please make me come" you give in, the name, the feeling and look of pure victory on his face as he grins like a cheshire cat only intensifies the heat growing at a rapid pace at the pit of your stomach.

"Final fucking ly, princess. Daddy will make you feel good" He reinserts his fingers in, drilling it with desperation to see you come undone as he draws rapid circles on your now sensitive clit with the other hand, watching you squirm under him.

"Joh-Daddy i'm coming..!" you cry out weakly as you feel your orgasm hit you with much force, easily driving you into over sensitivity. Johnny's patient in helping you ride out your orgasm, not stopping until you let out a throaty sob and plead him to stop to allow yourself some room to breathe.

Johnny, however, makes no move to stop, only speeding up his fingers, his gaze fixed on where his fingers disappeared inside of you while his other hand held you down with a vise grip, "Give me one more, doll. I know you've got one more in you. " he pants, the feeling of his girth in confinement only throwing himself to sensory deprivation as he feels himself twitch inside his sweats painfully.

You shake your head, tears now flowing elegantly down your cheek, your lips puckered into a slight pout, your eyebrows drawn together as you let yourself melt into the pleasure Johnny was providing you with. "Daddy.."

You whine, feeling your second high reaching you ridiculously quick as you see Johnny's face contort in concentration,

"I need to get you nice and wet for me, princess, you're doing so well. Give daddy another one" you coaxes you with his sultry tone, words and actions, inevitably having you come undone under him for the second time that night.

You let out a choked moan, finally having enough as you curl upon yourself the minute Johnny removes his fingers from you, full fledged crying at the overbearing feeling of sensitivity.

Johnny groans at the sight, leaning down to press a soft peck on your sweaty forehead before getting off of the bed to remove his pants alongside his boxer at a slow speed, granting you some time to recover.

"Condom?" he asks, readying himself to reach into the drawing when he notices you shake your head a no as a reply, "I'm on pills.." you mutter weakly.

You hear him curse out at the thought of doing you raw, flexing his muscles before climbing on top of you again. He takes his time to gently turn you back onto your back, pressing his tender lips against your irritated one for the first time that night, his hand ever so slightly moving to play with your clit once again, making you jerk, "Daddy!"

"Sorry, doll. Daddy just needs to make sure that princess is ready to take his cock"

Your whining intensifies at his words, wiggling your hips to move closer to his own, "But I am ready! Look, daddy! I'm so wet and ready for you!" you whimper, earning a chuckle from the lad.

Just like all the other times that night, he aligns his cock at your entrance without a warning, the tip ever so slightly pushing through your walls, "Alright, big girl. Show daddy how much of a slut you can be for him."

Suddenly, Johnny detaches himself from you, moving further away as he leans by the edge of the door, smirking at you whining at the loss of contact, "Patience, angel"

He grabs hold of your hips, manhandling your body into all fours as he enters you completely with no trouble once he's got you where he wants you to be.

Something about having to take Johnny from behind was so sexy that you could almost immediately feel your orgasm grow, "Fuck baby, keep clenching around me like that and i won't last long," he grunts, moving in you with a steady pace,

"I never expected my son to befriend such filthy sluts like you, Y/n. Look at the mess you're making on my sheets" He grabs a fistful of your ass in a tight squeeze, the sudden shift in his demeanor only serving as a whiplash as you feel yourself growing closer and closer to the sweet orgasm.

"Jesus, doll, you're so fucking tight i can barely move" Johnny growls, talking to keep himself from coming too fast.

"Daddy.. I'm close. M-I'm so so close" you cry as your arms give out and you fall face first onto the mattress, the new stretch in your back only encouraging his cock to hit you deeper, finding the sweet cushion that serves as extra pleasure for you.

"Me too, princess, me too.. '' You hear him let out a whine, his thrusts growing sloppier as he does you slower but deeper.

He reaches around your body to find pursuit at your clit for the nth time that night, rubbing rapid, messy circles to go with his deep thrusts, "Daddy!" you reach your high with a high pitched cry of his name.

Johnny comes not too long after you as he couldn't resist the constant tight clenching of your walls around his cock. He thrust slowly to ride out his high as you twitch helplessly, face scrunched up in too much pleasure.

You feel your body being manoeuvred onto your side as he whispers sweet nothings which pass right through your ears as you feel him softened inside you, the feeling ridiculously soothing for your used up walls,

"You did amazing, darling." he kisses your temple, not making any move to remove himself from within you, which you silently thanked him for.

You both lay in silence as you turned your body towards him, earning a hiss and a playful smack from him as it added pressure onto his sensitive member. You wrap your arms around his torso, about to nuzzle into his chest and just drift away to dreamland when you hear the familiar ring of your phone from the table beside the bed.

You feel Johnny's body shift to reach out to get your phone, looking at the caller ID before handing it to you with a smirk that you knew meant that he was up to no good. "Oh! It's hyuck" you exclaim in shock, quickly accepting the call and placing it near your ear, moving to get away from him.

But Johnny seemed to have other ideas, as he latched an arm around your torso to keep you from moving, "Hey-" you begin, immediately feeling Johnny experimentally thrust into you again, making you whine, "Y/n! I miss you~-oh hey, are you okay?" you hear Donghyuck's voice from the other side,

You look at Johnny with a pleading and warning gaze to which you earn yourself a toothy grin from the lad,

"Of co-course! Just a little.. peachy,'' You turn around to place a hand on his chest to halt his movement, "You don't sound just peachy.. I've heard you like this before!" you hear Donghyuck make those noises he makes when he's thinking as Johnny keeps thrusting lazily the more you look at him, you see him open his mouth to speak, "Oh fuck! You're getting laid, aren't you???"

"Tell Hyuck daddy says hi"

947 notes · View notes