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gravehags · 8 months ago

Note

Hello!!

Would you be willing to do a NSFW continuation of the Cardinal Copia book club one you did??

If so that would be awesome!! If not no biggie!! 😃

i had way too much fun with this oh my god. also jumped through many hoops to get this posted while the internet is out at my house lmao. enjoy!

part 1 here

~~~

For all your confidence leading up to this event, you sure are filled with doubt.

You arranged to have the seminary classroom all to yourselves, a nice cozy little rendezvous for your and your sweet Cardinal to discuss your book. Gnawing on your lower lip and wringing your hands anxiously, you groan. Would he be angry when he found out this club was only comprised of the two of you? Would he be frightened off? He was such a skittish little thing, always gesticulating and hurrying around the abbey. You adored that about him. You're halfway through a sigh when a knock happens at the door behind you. Right on time, you think as you steel yourself and open the door. He's wearing the red cassock today - your favorite - as he stands there gripping his book and gazing at you with such infatuation it makes your heart melt. Fuck you wanted him.

"Good evening, sorella," he begins, sidestepping you to enter the classroom, "eh, I'm the first one here!"

"Uh-huh," you confirm with a bright smile, hand on his lower back to usher him to a seat. "Punctual as always, Cardinal. Tell me, what did you think of the first chapter?"

"Shouldn't we eh…shouldn't we wait for the others to arrive?"

"The others…right. I'm uh...afraid it's just us tonight Cardinal."

He regards you with a peculiar gleam in his eye.

"I have you all to myself then, don't I?" he purrs with a level of seduction you hadn't expected from him, and it shows from the way your cheeks flush. Oh this is going to be fun.

"And I, you," you murmur, reaching a hand up to brush along his bicep, delighting when you see a shiver ripple through him, "I've always been fond of you Cardinal."

"H-have you?" he chirps, setting his book down and removing his biretta, placing it on top of his book. "Perhaps you should know then..."

"Mmhmm?" your hand continues to toy with the wool of his cassock as you bring yourself closer to him. Close enough to see the freckles that spatter across his cheeks and long nose.

"I have you right where I want you," his steady voice and the sinister grin that curls his lips make your jaw drop in shock but before you can say anything, do anything, he’s on you like a man starved. His lips slam into yours, tongue sliding into your gasping mouth as he backs you against the desk at the front of the room. It takes you a few seconds but the feel of his gloved hand gripping your hip through the thin black material of your habit makes you moan into his mouth.

He's delighted as he grins against your lips, the fine hairs of his mustache tickling you. When he pulls back to lay a line of fiery open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and throat, you're finally able to speak.

"H-how..how did you know?"

He chuckles into your neck, pushing his hips into yours so you can feel the curve of his cock through the abundant fabric he currently wears.

"Not quite as shy and awkward as everyone thinks, eh sorella? All but ignored - except by you. Oh I saw the way you looked at me from the moment you stepped foot into this abbey."

He pulls away for a moment, only to spin you around, one hand inching the fabric of your habit up your leg and over your hip. When his fingers dance along the waistband of your underwear, the breath is knocked from your lungs and he laughs against your hair.

"How long have you wanted your Cardinal, sorella?" he asks as he cups the wet heat of you. "How long have you wanted this poor, little, strange old man to fuck you?"

His fingers slide in and tease you open, making you sigh and lean back against his chest.

"Always, Cardinal," you breathe, "it was always you. No one else."

He rewards your candidness by circling your clit, the leather gliding through your slick with ease.

"Dolcezza,” he groans, grinding his cock against the curve of your ass. "Mi lasci avere te? Give yourself to me. Let me make you mine and you will want for nothing."

When two fingers dip down to tease at your entrance you cry out, arching backwards against him.

"Yes! I'm yours Cardinal, make me yours, please.”

He's got you bent over the desk within seconds, rucking your habit up over your hips and your underwear down them. He murmurs in Italian - you don't catch much of it - as you hear him curse while lifting his own garment. You cant your hips back to present yourself to him and grin lazily when you hear him fussing with the zipper of his trousers.

When he finally frees himself and guides the head of him along your slit, you moan wantonly.

"So wet for your Cardinal," he breathes, soaking his cock in your slick before prodding at your entrance. You nod through your haze of pleasure, mouth falling open as he pushes his thick length into you.

You don't know what you expected of him but he's big - delightfully so - and you keen aloud at the way you stretch around him. Your arms are already shaking as they support your body and he reaches around to tilt your head his direction.

"Ti benedica, preferita tra le sorelle."

"Thank you, Cardinal," you gasp and he rewards you by sliding out of you then slamming back in with such force you nearly collapse. He sets a steady but deep pace, gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises, panting and mouthing at your shoulder. Each movement within you brings you closer to not only your beloved Cardinal but the Olde One himself, His light filling you up just as surely as Copia’s cock. You've never had a coupling like this and you plan to tell him so as soon as you've regained your senses. Streams of filth slip from the Cardinal's lips as he ruts into you, each thrust more powerful than the last.

"So fucking tight," he growls, sliding a hand down your spine, "I've w-waited so long for this. What d-delicious temptation you have provided. My mind has been f-filled with how your cunt would feel."

“I'd--ah!" You attempted to respond but the speed with which he fucks you now makes your eyes roll back in your skull. "I'd fuck myself to the t-though of you since that f-first day. Don't stop, please don’t stop."

Your confession and demand only spurs him on, cock slamming inside of you repeatedly and hitting that sweet spot you never seemed able to reach on your own. Your moans echo through the classroom and you know others outside can hear you but all you can care about right now is the man standing behind you giving you the most intense pleasure of your life. When you come undone, gushing over his cock, you let out a wail and reach a hand behind you to grasp at your Cardinal's hair. The tugging of your fingers on his greying brown strands is enough to push him over the edge and he comes with a shout, filling you up in spurt after spurt. When you finally relinquish your grip on his hair, your body sags against the desk, arms finally giving way. Your Cardinal has you though, arm wrapped around your middle to bring you close to him.

"Divino,” he pants into your ear before placing a kiss at your temple.

You nod dumbly as his cock slips out of you and his cum slides down the insides of your thighs to gather at the tops of your stockings. His gaze briefly follows its path with a glint of hunger in his eyes but ultimately he lowers your habit and turns you around to face him. When your eyes meet his, a goofy little smile makes his mustache twitch and you're reminded why you like him so much.

"Take me to bed, Cardinal," you request with a goofy smile of your own. His expression becomes deathly serious all of a sudden.

"But sorella, our book club.”

#cardinal copia #cardinal copia x reader #cardinal copia x female reader #cardinal copia x sister of sin #rachel writes

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bisexual-horror-fan · 7 months ago

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Through The Heart Is The Only Way. Chapter Eleven. "Trying To Get Settled."

I know a bit late today but here is today's addition to Multi-May! The long awaited update to Through The Heart Is The Only Way! Sorry for the eight fucking month long hiatus, but we are back! Hopefully updates will be more frequent from here on out! Series Masterlist is here. Hope you all enjoy this and find it worth the wait! Also partly inspired by me going to my first gay club last summer.

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Rating. Explicit. Length. 4K. Charles Lee Ray/Tiffany Ray Valentine/FEM! AFAB! Reader. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Stressed And Anxious Reader. Drinking. Softness. Making Out. Fingering. Implied Threesome.

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The rest of the shift goes by in a blur. Rachel stays behind after close, you and your coworkers sit, huddled around a table, all the other ones already wiped down, chairs upside down on top of them, hushed tones as you try to comfort her. Logan makes drinks, the lights are low as you all talk it over, trying to make her feel better. By night's end she looks less shaken, you and Jackson walk to the train station, hand in hand.

You hold his hand very tightly, fingers interlaced, you wonder if your grip makes his knuckles ache. You walk with him and the air feels a bit tense. Jackson and you talk about anything and just about everything, filling the spaces with whatever else mundane shit that you can. When finally on the train platform, a moment of silence has overtaken. You are the one to break it. You ask quietly into the cold, breath fogging in front of your face, “Why am I so scared right now?”

Jackson’s head turns, so does yours, he looks down as you look up and concern has painted his features, his mouth opens and then closes. He seriously considers what to say before responding, “Because it’s normal. It’s really normal to be scared by this kinda thing, Rach was…She was freaking out, and we care about her, so we are freaked out too.”

You know it’s more than that, you are sure Jackson knows it is more than that, too. You remember a conversation you had with him over a year ago where he confessed to you his own story similar to the one you had about Trent.

It was winter back then too, it was cold, you and he were having a drink post work, crowded around a table, hoping the snow died down a bit before leaving as he filled you in. Jackson told you about some guy who came onto him and then, asshole that he was, got violent with him after, making claims that he “wasn’t really like that” and blaming it all on him, that Jackson was asking for it on and on. You held his hand and listened intently over half drunk cocktails and didn’t judge him, handing over a napkin for him to wipe his eyes.

It was totally unfair bullshit.

What happened with Rachel is another fucking reminder that this job is a touch more dangerous than you’d like. It reminds you that there are total fucking jerks at every turn, whether it be customers who treat you like shit and less than human, or even some of the good ones could be at the mercy of similarly terrible treatment. You love your job most of the time, but it is exhausting on nights like this.

You rest your head on Jackson’s shoulder, and he says as he leans his head on yours, “She is going to be okay. I am going to be okay, and so are you.”

Your mind wanders to them, thoughts flood your brain of your newly minted boyfriend and girlfriend. You worry. What if something were to happen to them? What would you do? Your heart is beating out of your chest and your palms are sweaty, you are thankful for the gloves you wore, that Jackson couldn’t feel how slick your hands were and feel in turn your massive anxiety. Christ you are being crazy you just started dating them, you need to reel in your emotions right now, this is an outlier of a situation, this is fine, you are fine. You shake off the bad thoughts and look back up at him, a quick glance as you make the decision to try and believe him, you say, “Yeah you’re probably right. Thanks.”

Jackson smiles. It doesn’t reach his eyes. “You’re welcome.”

You stand in heavy silence once more, both your eyes and his staring forward until the train comes. When it does arrive you part from Jackson reluctantly, waves and promises to see each other the next day at work again. The ride feels too long, when you come to your stop you race home and once there you have trouble sleeping, when you eventually attempt to.

Tossing and turning, sleep claims you after quite some time.

Over the course of the next few days, you slowly start to calm down, but you are still on edge, the knowledge of what happened to Randall poking at the back of your mind, reminders cropping up at inopportune moments and giving you small setbacks. You should be over this, it’s been a long time, why is this sticking with you so badly?

There was no news.

You’d see Rachel at work and meet her eyes and she’d know what you were going to ask, she’d shake her head and your look would turn from pleading to know what she did, to instead sympathetic as your stomach turned and heart ached for her.

It’s late, it’s after work on a different day, you need some serious stress relief, Jackson had the day off and so you didn’t have accompaniment to the train station, too alone with your thoughts at the moment. You can’t keep feeling like this, you can’t keep hiding, so you make the decision to do something for yourself, try to feel a bit better.

You go to your favourite rink.

Winter is slowly on the way out, the extreme storm is beginning to thaw, this will probably be your last skate of the season. The rink is closed this late, you weren’t planning on this and don’t have your skates, so you snagged a pair that other people would pay to rent, no one was around, not like you’d get caught. You find your size easily under the open air renting counter, and soon you are at a bench, boots off and lacing the skates up.

Your bag is left near the bench, and you make your way out onto the ice. You start to skate, gliding on the ice easily, it’s quiet, cloudy but not snowing, it’s very still and the only sound is metal on frozen water and your breath. Mind turns to them as you turn on the ice, the last time you were here was on your date, you smile, lips turning up as you recall how shitty Chucky was at skating, how he had to cling to you and Tiff to stay upright. You wonder if you will still be together to do that again next winter, maybe you can teach your new boyfriend a thing or two.

You pick up the pace, skating faster, sharper turns, you enjoy the speed, the wind on your face, the chill and then the silence and rhythm you had gotten into before it is broken, a call of, “Hey!”

It makes you stop short, ice shavings kicked up from the abrupt halt, a turn of your head towards the voice and look who it is, boots crunching through snow, tight jeans, a fashionable jacket and that familiar blonde head of hair with a warm smile.

You skate up as she reaches the edge of the rink, she holds her hands out, and you take them, a quick glance and no one is around, so you do it. Leaning in, she meets you in the middle, she kisses you and the cold of the night is forgotten. The bliss is short-lived, but it is a balm to your frayed nerves and calming to your rushing mind. You pull back, smile stretching wider as you say softly, finally returning her greeting, “Hi.”

You squeeze her hands and ask, “What are you doing out?”

“Coming back from seeing a friend, just cutting through the park on the way home-” She leans closer while looking in your eyes she jokes, “-probably a bad idea with all the news lately.”

You stiffen immediately and without meaning to, your smile faltering a little. The reminder isn’t helpful, it’s well after midnight, and you are skating alone in a park, it’s asking for fucking trouble. Gaze has dropped, and your mind is churning, one of her hands releases yours and cups your cheek, tilting you to look at her again, “Hey, you okay?”

You bite your bottom lip, and you know that you should be honest, if you can’t be with your girlfriend than who could you be? You spill, “I’ve been having some stress lately, not been feeling the best, just kinda, bogged down.”

“Oh sweetheart.” She hums, she pulls you into a hug, arms tight around you, “I am so sorry.”

You slip your arms around her, return the affection, and melt into her closer. God, you needed this, needed her, you had really been missing her without realizing it. The smell of lingering cigarette smoke and her favored perfume has become an intimate comfort, mixing with the winter night air, it’s more than welcome, it was craved. Eventually she pulls back, her hands on your arms, and she says, “I think you need some help with your stress and if there is one thing I am good at, it’s relieving stress.”

A small laugh bubbles out of you, “Okay, doctor Valentine, what do you recommend?”

“I’m gonna take you out, night on the town just you and me, a special date.” She offers, and you ask, intrigued, “A special date?”

“Yeah! I know a great club, I think a night to cut loose would do you good.” Her eyes were alight with mischief, she seemed excited and honestly, so were you at the idea, your first official date out with her being your girlfriend. It had been forever since you’d gone out to a club, last time was probably before you started working at one, the idea of going out to one with her sounded like just what you needed.

“Tiffany, that sounds amazing, I’d love that.” You tell her sincerely, and she makes a sound of pure delight, it’s adorable, “Yessss! When is your next day off?”

You tell her and the date is set for then. You end up taking your skates off and returning them, she walks you to your train station as you talk and get caught up on the past few days she had, and then she bids you goodnight, leaving you excited about your next night off.

Tiffany came by to get you as opposed to you meeting her out and that felt nice, not like you didn’t like going to her, but getting picked up was still special and an appreciated gesture.

You’d seen her dressed up for clubbing before, obviously, the many times she came to your work, this was just a touch different, almost hard to put your finger on, but then it clicks. She is wearing things you’ve complimented on her previously. The instances flit over your mind, times you’ve told her particular hem lines or cuts look good, what colours you think look best on her skin and further, she absorbed every sweet word, took it to heart and was dressed not explicitly for you, she was still dressed like herself, but had just taken what you’d expressed that you liked and applied it. Her coat was open at the moment, leather gloves on her hands to combat the cold outside your apartment building, the skirt was tight, the top was flattering, the belt sitting on her hips was more decorative than to help keep anything on, and you wanted to dip your fingers in the shiny chains and tug her close to kiss her, ruin the pretty lipstick she wore.

Your arms open, lean close, inviting her in, the hallway is empty, and she takes you up on it, the hug is nice, the kiss is nicer, you breathe the compliment as your lips break apart, “You’re stunning.”

“And you’re sweet.” She hums, pulling back she tells you, “And you’re one to talk, you look incredible, angel.”

You preen under her praise, you had purposefully made sure to wear something different from what you usually did to work, typically dark colours and clothing designed to get boat loads of tips as opposed to something that reflected your personal style, not tonight. Now you’d chosen something with colour, a dress that was well suited to go out, on the tighter side, you felt good in it and hoped it’d invite her to touch, give her that same craving you found yourself always infected with when near her.

“You ready to go?” She asked, and you nodded, your own coat was shrugged on, purse over your shoulder, and you closed the door, she stood next to you as you locked the door. Soon you and her were walking down the hall, headed to the stairs, and you asked, “So where you taking me?”

“I told you already, M’ taking you to a club, gorgeous.” She teased, and you laughed slightly, “Yeah I know that, but what club?”

She refused to tell you, not until you were there. The club entrance was a little hard to find, well it would have been hard to find if you were trying to get there solo just off the address information, Tiffany seemed to know just where it was, the front of the building was dark, a single light over the metal industrial looking door with one person standing out front to let people in.

You were ushered in with no issue, the music now reaching you once the door was opened, you check your coats and let her lead you deeper into the bar, coming near the end of the darker hallway you ask, “You finally gonna tell me what is so special about this place?”

In a moment of ridiculously perfect timing, you come around the corner, the music gets louder, the lights are bright, and you see the crowd, people close together, dancing and as your eyes struggle to adjust, she leans closer. Next, she is saying into your ear so you could hear over the thrum, “It’s a gay bar.”

Holy fucking shit.

What that means hits immediately, you can act like any other couple, can act like her and Chucky do out at your work or how you and her do in private, you can hold her hand and kiss her and more without worry. A full on date without restrictions in public. You had no idea this was possible for you and her.

You were so happy you could hardly stand it, you threw your arms around her neck and hugged her tightly to you, “Oh my God, are you serious?!”

She laughs, her hands rest on your waist before sliding slowly over your lower back, hugging you as she responds, “As the dead, beautiful.”

You pull back, hands on her shoulders as you say, “Well c’mon, I don’t want to waste any time.”

Tiffany grins and let's go of you, taking your hand she leads you deeper inside. First order of business was getting you both a drink, you pass through the moving bodies on the dance floor towards the bar. You stand next to her, fingers lacing together with hers as you observe the people nearby, you try not to stare any place for too long, which is easy because you can’t help moving from one person to the next. You see couples not unlike Tiffany and yourself, groups of friends, easy displays of intimacy in any and every direction, it makes you feel warm and affectionate. You lean closer to her, press a kiss to her cheek, and she turns her head, saying, “You can do better than that, can’t you?”

You take her hint, the hand that wasn’t currently holding hers coming up, fingers stroke over her impossibly soft cheek, and you lean in, soon kissing her. She kisses you back, the taste of her lipstick and faint cigarettes greets you, it is easy to get swept up in it, in her, you can’t believe you can do this in a crowded public place. One thing snaps you out of it, namely a person misjudging how close they were to you, accidentally bumping into you, the kiss breaks and the person says, with a wave, “Sorry!”

The stupid grin takes over your face, you squeeze Tiffany’s hand and say, “No problem.”

And there really wasn’t. Just the fact that it has the potential to happen, a totally harmless and innocuous annoyance of someone accidentally interrupting you kissing your girlfriend, is a fantastic change of pace. You would gladly take it over trying to steal small moments of affection, terrified of someone seeing you and outing yourselves.

You get your drinks after that, fruity cocktails that Tiffany selected, you end up at a standing table near the dance floor, it is hard to talk over the thrum of the music, but you are just giddy to be out with her. After the first drink you can’t help it, pulling her out onto the floor, the music isn’t even necessarily to your taste but who gives a fuck about that when she is pressed against you like she is at this moment. The smile on her face is infectious, the sway of her hips captivating, and the mood is undeniably high. You realize you’ve only ever watched Tiffany dance before this, never had the opportunity to dance with her and God, you need to go out clubbing more often for the chance to.

You love the time you spend with her and Chucky together but getting to have her to yourself is addicting, how she brushes hair aside to whisper in your ear, leading you as you dance, you find yourself forgetting your stress, all your problems seem so far away.

After getting both of you another drink, you come back to someone hitting on Tiffany. She looks amused at the nervous attempt, the short haired redhead is doing her best, and it’s endearing, sweet, you come up and slot yourself against her side, giving her the cocktail, she takes it as you kiss her cheek, “Hey honey, who’s this?”

“Someone who I think is trying to ask me out.” The blonde responds with a smirk. The cute girl ends up profusely apologizing not aware she was seeing you, “Oh my fucking God, I am so sorry, I wouldn’t have if I knew-” Tiff and you laugh it off, and end up having a good conversation with the girl.

The night stretches on, you end up talking to some other people, you have more drinks and dances, at one point you are in the bathroom, she is washing her hands, and you are looking at her in the mirror. Her eyes caught yours, and she grins, “What? Something on my face?”

You laugh, a shake of your head, “Sorry, just, I can’t get over how great tonight has been.”

“Yeah?” She asks as she dries her hands, and you nod once, finding it impossible to look away, “Yeah. I am so out of the loop, I’ve never been to a place like this and coming here with you for my first time has been incredible, you, Tiffany, are incredible.”

She tosses the paper towel into the trash. She inquires, “You always this soft and sentimental when you drink?” She closes the distance, no one else is in here at the moment, funny how you keep finding yourself alone in empty club bathrooms with her.

“Hardly.” You reach out, fingers brush down her arm as you tell her, “You just bring it out of me.”

“My sappy little sweet thing.” She hums before leaning in, she kisses you, and it has the ability to do your head in more than any drink. The realization you are kissing again in a club bathroom is not lost on you.

The time together flies by after that.

The club is getting near closing, you and her are splitting one last drink, you ask over the music, “Can we come here again sometime?”

She beams and tells you, “Anytime you want.”

Lucky you.

The last dregs swallowed, the last call completed, you and her are headed back out into the night, you see that redhead from earlier ended up with someone else, and it makes you happy to see. Your coats pulled tight around yourselves, holding hands and unable to stop smiling.

“You wanna come back to our place?” She asks, and you couldn’t agree faster.

Your feet ache, and you feel lightheaded and joyful as you stumble into her apartment, heels are discarded, you are moving backwards towards the couch, fumbling to get your coat off. She has shrugged her own coat off, letting it drop onto the floor along with yours, you’d pick them up later.

Her mouth is moving down the side of your jaw and down your neck and soon the backs of your knees hit the edge of the couch, and you flop onto your back, hands hooked on the straps of her top you pull her down on top of you.

The heat sparking inside of you is stealing your breath away, you gasp her name as her leg slots between yours as she starts to suck a mark into your collarbone. You tug uselessly at the straps, she is already as close as could be, but the move shows just how needy you are, a move of your hips, grinding on her thigh you let out a weak moan.

She breathes out your name as your hand moves, slides down her body and between her own legs, her head tips forward with a sharp inhale from the rush you provide her. You are constantly taken aback by how she can make you feel, whenever you have a moment like this, that you affect her in just the same way, it does everything for you, strokes your ego, turns you on further.

She helps with her clothing in the way and your hand is in her underwear now, you can feel how wet she is and when your fingers slip inside, curling to find that spot you’ve come to know so well, you remember you aren’t alone.

“Man, you two are not good at being quiet.” Your head jerks up as does hers, a look over, and you see Chucky standing there in the doorway of the living room, cocky half smile on his face.

“Who says we were tryna be?” You giggle as you press, fuck your fingers in and out of Tiffany, and she moans louder, unapologetic smile on your face at the sound you dragged from her.

“Ye-ahhh, sorry sweetface, did we wake you up?” Tiffany asks with a small upward curve of her own mouth.

“You did! Terrible, the both of you.” He laughs, very amused, as he comes over. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, or socks, just a pair of pyjama pants sitting low on his hips, and you want to reach out and touch him too.

“We are the worst. You should come teach us a lesson.” You tease, and he gets onto the couch next to you, a hand reaching down, fingers stroke under your chin, tilting your head up, and he says, “Yeah I think you are right about that. Can’t let you go around thinking you can just do whatever you want, when you want.”

“Mmm, that would be truly awful.” Tiffany mused, watching as Chucky kissed you, making you melt. Being pressed between both your partners, passed back and forth, in the early hours of the morning, there isn’t anything better than tasting the heady mix of him and her.

#FINALLY #HERE IT IS #TTHITOW #Poly!Chiffany x reader #Tiffany Ray Valentine x reader #Charles Lee Ray x reader #slasher x reader #BHF writing #Multi-May #Through The Heart Is The Only Way

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unitedstatesofworld · 2 months ago

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Arandina CF vs Real Madrid Lineups: A Clash of David and Goliath

When Arandina CF takes on the mighty Real Madrid, it's more than just a game—it's a showdown of epic proportions! The anticipation around Arandina CF vs Real Madrid lineups is buzzing with excitement as fans of both teams wonder how this David vs. Goliath encounter will unfold. While the powerhouse that is Real Madrid hardly needs an introduction, Arandina CF, a smaller club, is ready to make a statement. But will their lineup have the depth to stand against Real Madrid's star-studded squad? Let's dive into the potential lineups and explore how this matchup might play out.

What to Expect from Arandina CF

Arandina CF may not boast a roster filled with world-class superstars, but this team thrives on grit, determination, and playing their hearts out. Here’s what we might see in their lineup:

Goalkeeper: Arandina’s goalkeeper will need to be on high alert, expecting a barrage of shots from Real Madrid's forwards. It’s likely we’ll see their most seasoned player, one who’s no stranger to high-pressure situations, between the posts.

Defenders: A solid backline will be key. They might opt for a traditional four-man defense, packed with center-backs who are tall, physical, and ready to challenge Real Madrid’s dangerous attackers. Their ability to block, intercept, and frustrate the forward line will be crucial.

Midfielders: The midfield is where Arandina will need to strike a balance. They’ll need midfielders who can hold possession and break up Madrid’s plays, while also trying to launch quick counter-attacks.

Forwards: Arandina’s attack will need to be sharp. They’re not expected to see much of the ball, so they’ll need forwards who can capitalize on every rare opportunity. Pace and precision will be their key weapons.

The Real Madrid Machine

Now, let's talk about Real Madrid. With a lineup brimming with football royalty, it's no surprise that they are the overwhelming favorites. Here’s a glance at their likely setup:

Goalkeeper: Real Madrid's number one is a keeper known for making jaw-dropping saves. Whether it's handling crosses or stopping long-range shots, this keeper is almost impossible to beat on a good day.

Defenders: The defensive line is made up of a mix of experienced veterans and energetic youngsters. Expect a four-man backline that includes world-class defenders who won’t give Arandina much breathing room.

Midfielders: Real Madrid's midfield is where magic happens. Full of creativity, composure, and flair, these players will likely dictate the pace of the game, launching slick passes and controlling possession.

Forwards: The forward line of Madrid will be absolutely lethal. Whether it’s breaking down Arandina’s defense with fancy footwork or slotting in goals from tight angles, these forwards will put immense pressure on the opposing team.

Can Arandina CF Pull Off a Miracle?

It’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? While all odds point to a comfortable victory for Real Madrid, football is a funny old game. Upsets happen all the time, and who knows? Arandina CF might just pull off the unthinkable. What will matter most is how both teams set up their lineups and approach the game.

Tactical Adjustments

For Arandina CF, it’s all about damage limitation. They’ll need to set up a compact, disciplined defense that frustrates Madrid’s attack. Expect a low defensive block with fast wingers ready to counter-attack. On the flip side, Real Madrid will likely press high and dominate possession, pushing Arandina deep into their own half.

Key Battles on the Pitch

There will be a few key matchups to watch during the game:

Midfield Battle: Arandina's midfielders vs. Real Madrid’s creative playmakers. Can the underdogs keep the giants from running the show?

Forwards vs. Defenders: Madrid’s lethal forwards will keep Arandina’s defense on their toes, while Arandina’s attackers will look to take advantage of rare counter-attacks.

Set Pieces: Arandina may focus on set-pieces as their best chance to score. Corners, free-kicks—these could be their golden opportunities.

The Importance of Mentality

Football isn't just physical; it’s psychological. Arandina CF needs to believe in the possibility of winning. If they step onto the field already defeated in their minds, Real Madrid will eat them alive. But if they play with passion, heart, and the belief that anything can happen, they might just cause a stir.

Real Madrid’s Mental Edge

Real Madrid, on the other hand, needs to guard against complacency. They can't walk into this game expecting an easy win. Teams that do that often get caught out by a surprise goal or a spirited performance from the underdogs.

Conclusion

When it comes to the Arandina CF vs Real Madrid lineups, the outcome might seem predictable at first glance, but this is football we’re talking about—where surprises happen every week! While Real Madrid's world-class squad will dominate the headlines, it’s the fighting spirit of Arandina CF that might capture the hearts of football fans everywhere. Will Real Madrid’s lineup be too strong, or will Arandina CF show that even the smallest clubs can rise to the occasion?

Either way, this clash between David and Goliath will be one for the books, with every fan glued to the unfolding drama on the pitch. Whatever happens, the Arandina CF vs Real Madrid lineups will be at the heart of the action, shaping the game’s destiny!

#Arandina CF #Football Match

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crowfootwrites · 4 years ago

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Bruises | Part II [Nestor Oceteva x Fem!Reader]

Part II of the Nestor two-shot. This part is significantly longer than the first part, but we get to see Nestor takin' care of business, so. Also, there's a Marcus cameo.

Warnings: implied violence; gun usage; language | Words: 1,861

Part I of Bruises

Two days later, you’re back at work, opting for a floral catsuit to keep your bruising covered. Your sides, back, and thighs are starting to look pretty gnarly.

Nestor had indeed taken you to the hospital and stayed with you while doctors performed a series of ultrasounds and CT scans to check for any internal hemorrhaging; he was on the phone for a while and you could hear snippets of angry conversation, likely with Miguel or Marcus about finding the guy that did this. When you were given the all-clear, Nestor had taken you home, insisting on you taking it easy. He had made dinner and curled up with you on the couch, trying to avoid jostling you at all costs. When the two of you had finally made your way to bed, his fingers gently caressed you and he pressed soft kisses against the deep violet bruises blooming across your torso. You saw the quick flash of heartbreak in his eyes at seeing you hurt, and you had curled against him, falling asleep safely in his arms.

It’s a Tuesday and it’s early, so the club is still fairly slow. You’re bartending tonight, thankfully, glad to have a large slab of wood between you and everyone else. You’re not sure what progress Nestor has made on finding the guy, but you still have your job, so you count your blessings and don’t ask questions.

Another blessing: the other bartender for the evening arrives, and it’s an intimidating-looking girl you’ve worked with a few times named Morgan. All but the most confident (or the stupidest) patrons find her pin-straight black hair, severe makeup, and perma-frown a little daunting. No one ever fucks with Morgan and you’re glad to have her beside you for the night.

Things start to pick up around 11 and suddenly, it’s busy, even for a Tuesday. Morgan leans over to remind you about the drink special your boss is promoting, and you groan internally, knowing the tips are the only thing making it worth your while. You and Morgan make a good team, supplying drinks at a breakneck pace while club lights flash around you, obscuring most of what’s happening past the first row of patrons at the bar.

You’re throwing together a Jack & Coke when you hear it. The voice sends panic jolting down your spine as it requests a Budweiser. You stare at your trembling hands, a lime wedge clutched between your fingers.

You force your eyes upward and it’s him. The same slicked back brown hair, the same oily smile, even the same leather jacket. Your eyes widen and he looks back at you with a calculating gaze. Your immediate reaction is a desire to run. But as soon as the thought appears you dismiss it. The club is packed, and it would be easy for him to try something in the middle of a throng of people. No, the safest place for you is behind the bar, where other people can keep their eyes on you.

You force a smile that you’re sure comes out as more of a grimace.

“Sure thing,” you tell him, the pitch of your voice just a little too high. You hand the Jack & Coke to its owner, managing to spill a little on your shaking hands, then head over to the cooler for the beer.

You can feel his eyes on you and your stomach turns, bile burning in your throat. In the dark corner of the bar, shielded partially from view by Morgan, you can feel yourself breaking down. Your eyes flash around you in a panic. Everything and everyone feel too far away. You don’t see the bouncer by the door, and there’s no escape route that doesn’t take you past the man staring at you from the end of the bar.

You’re not sure what to do so you call the person you trust the most.

Nestor answers on the first ring. “Amor?” His voice is, understandably, apprehensive.

A whimper steals through your lips before you can get the words out. “He’s here.”

“Are you inside?” Nestor’s tone has lost all sense of worry. His words are clipped, business-like, and you know this isn’t going to end well.

“Yeah, I’m working the bar with Morgan,” you mumble, dropping your head into your hands as Morgan looks over at you with concern.

“Stay behind the bar,” he commands. “If he tries anything, break a bottle, get a paring knife. Whatever you gotta do, mi amor. I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”

The line goes dead and you take a couple deep breaths, glad that, despite what’s about to happen, Nestor is coming. You grab the Budweiser out of the cooler, pop the cap and plunk it on the bar top in front of him, not meeting his eyes.

“How’s your night going, babydoll?” The words slither out of his mouth deviously and you swallow around the knot in your throat. Your eyes glance to digital clock beside the register. Thirteen minutes to go.

“Busy,” you grind out through gritted teeth. You move to the middle of the bar to help a waiting customer, and the man’s eyes follow you as you make drinks. He doesn’t leave the bar. He sits and leers and you wonder if he thinks that he’s going to follow you out again at the end of the night. As if you wouldn’t have learned your lesson? Good thing he won’t be here ‘til closing, you think, as your eyes flicker obsessively to the clock, counting down the minutes until Nestor arrives.

Nestor, apparently, makes very good time when he’s angry, because you see him come through the door of the club with two minutes to spare. An audible sigh of relief passes your lips as his eyes find yours over the crowd and he makes his way to the bar. You bite your lip as your gaze lands on Marcus talking to the bouncer who has returned to his post. The bouncer, the same one who was working the night you were attacked, glances at you, then nods to Marcus. Marcus disappears into the crowd behind Nestor. You can’t help the tightening in your chest. This is going to be bad.

You come to stand in front of the man so Nestor knows who to see about their little assault problem. The man, still unaware of Nestor and Marcus’ approach behind him, winks nauseatingly at you and just as he reaches over the bar for your wrist, a firm hand clenches around his forearm and pulls back. The man jerks back on the bar stool and spins to face two vicious looking men in suits.

The man sputters, trying to yank his arm free, but Nestor has no intention of letting him go. “Who the fuck are you?” the man yells. You glance at Nestor’s hold on the man’s arm, his knuckles turning white as his grip intensifies.

Marcus paces around to the other side of the man’s stool, his hands tucked casually in his pockets. “We hear you like to hit women,” he says nonchalantly, bringing his mouth close to the man’s ear. His one free arm flies up, trying to hit Marcus, but Marcus was expecting it. He grabs it and yanks it behind the man’s back. Marcus steps back just slightly, drawing out his gun, keeping it low so as not to alarm the crowd. You see the added length of a silencer on the end of it as Marcus shoves it into the man’s side and you step forward.

“Not in here, please,” you beg, and Marcus smiles at you benevolently.

“Mija, what do you take me for? I would never,” he says, and you cock an eyebrow, knowing full well he would.

Between the two of them, Nestor and Marcus hustle the man outside as he yells frantically over the crowd. He can’t really be heard over the music, and no one appears to notice, likely assuming security was removing him. They take him to the back, towards the back door of the club that leads into the alley where he attacked you. The heavy door slams shut with a note of finality, and you try to put it out of your mind. It’s out of your hands anyway. It was out of your hands the minute you told Nestor about it.

You see Morgan looking over at you as you try to get back to work, willing your hands to be steady. She seems to know better than ask, though, and you’re grateful for that. Thirty minutes later, Nestor comes back in through the front door of the club, nodding at the bouncer as he passes. The crowd has thinned out and the bar is considerably less busy. Nestor makes his way over and you run out from behind it to wrap yourself around him in a hug. The fingers on your right hand find their way to their usual spot around one of Nestor’s braids and you give it an affectionate tug. It’s slight, but you feel him sink into your embrace, seemingly as relieved as you. You pull back and scan him from head to toe, your heart racing. He appears unscathed, but you do notice the tiniest drop of blood on his dress shoe and point it out to him. He frowns and grabs a cocktail napkin off the bar and leans to down to rub it off, as you release a tired chuckle. He crumples the napkin and puts it in his pocket, then caresses your cheek, tucking you against his body.

“He won’t be bothering you anymore,” he murmurs.

You sigh, partly relieved, partly concerned for Nestor. “¿Lo mataste?” you ask hesitantly, not sure if you’re ready for the answer.

Nestor pulls away to look at you dubiously, as though he can read you like a book. “You really want to know?”

“I feel like I need to,” you say with a shrug, but your grip remains tight on Nestor.

A hard look passes briefly over his eyes before he gazes back down at you with a lopsided smile. “We made sure he won’t be touching anything he’s not supposed to anymore.”

Your face contorts as you wonder what they did with the fingers, but you opt not to ask.

“And he’s not gonna come back?” you ask, your voice small. You’re sure Nestor can feel your heartbeat clamoring against his chest.

“Not unless he wants to die,” Nestor whispers soothingly, and you let out a heavy exhale. “And I talked to Jimmy at the door. He gets anywhere near this place, they call me or Marcus.”

Tears sting your eyes, and you sniff as you pull Nestor tighter against you. “Thank you,” you mumble into his lapel. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“So, what now?” you ask, unsure what a person does after they dismember someone in the darkened parking lot of a club.

Nestor pressed a kiss against your forehead, and you could feel his lips curling into smirk against your skin. He pulled away and met your eyes with a shrug. “Now we go home.”

#nestor oceteva #nestor oceteva imagine #nestor oceteva x reader #mayans fx #mayansmc #mayans mc #mayans fanfic

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imagines-hoarder · 5 years ago

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The Older Man (Pt 2) *smut*- Thomas Shelby

Request// Hey! Will you post a part 2 of “The Older Man”? I would be the happiest person alive =)

*After two years of sitting on the sidelines and focusing on school, I decided to use writing as a way to procrastinate from classes instead of the other way around. Family Divided and My Husband’s Brother fans are gonna kill me cause they have DEFINITELY been waiting longer; maybe more to come? I do also wanna give a little warning; I have not written a full work for this blog in two years and the first part of this story was the peak of my passion. I wanted to give y’all the smut you loved but wasn’t in the mood for angst so let me know if you have any storylines you have in mind for these two and we’ll see how long I’m around for? Please be gentle with my heart! xoxox*

Masterlist

(Part 1)

For those who know him, Tommy is predictable.

When you took a moment to finally watch the man who you had craved for years, you had noticed that he had a routine of his own that ran deeper than his calendar could account for. He was always awake before the sun, and you could only rely on him to find stillness for four hours a night; six if he could find peace. He’d spend the mornings at Charlie’s yard with the horses as day broke and would spend the coming hours in one of his factories across Small Heath. You had spent many years visiting him strictly on Wednesdays for your pay, but he now knew that a sultry touch could convince you just enough to have lunch with him before you left. He’d leave far after the last machine had ground to a halt and his final employee had clocked out. If he was lucky, you would stop by on your way home on the days of your choosing, but time had soon taught him to expect you at random. It had become his welcomed reprieve from drinking alone.

After eight months of finding yourself endlessly tangled into this circumstance with Thomas, you had settled into strange domesticity that was only possible with a man as destructive and dangerous as Tommy.

The smell of his cigarettes reached your nose the moment you unlocked your apartment. He was visible to you only in the dark by the embers glowing between his fingertips.

“While I enjoy your covert visits as much as the next woman, I thought you would know better than sneaking up one armed with iron by now,” you proclaimed as you brought the room into further clarity by turning on the lamps. A cheeky grin was already stuck to your face by the time you could see him sitting in the wingback chair left by the last tenant. “Frankly, I’m surprised you found your way here before midnight.”

Once you had left Tommy’s office following your first fling, it didn’t take much time and even less convincing for you to find your own flat. It was close to your parents but far enough to keep them from ever knowing how the Tommy they doted on for years was defiling their only child in the dead of night. He didn’t live there, but it’s where he could be found most nights for the few hours he did sleep.

“Is it a crime to want to see you? Haven’t stopped thinking about you since you came to the office two days ago.” He looked so settled in a chair that was so beneath him, common man’s furniture that had faced many years of wear on the leather and scars on the legs.

“Well, sorry to keep you waiting, Mr.Shelby. I had a commitment to attend to this evening.” You moved to grab the empty glass resting loosely in his hands. He took a moment to notice you, no doubt arriving home from a local club.

“A business commitment, I presume,” he called to you as you walked to the bar, pouring a glass of whiskey for yourself before refilling his own. “Can’t think of a man special enough to see you in such a state.”

You look down at your dress, an attractive piece of fabric that fashionably displayed your assets between layers of chiffon and beading. Your unruly hair had been pinned to display your mischievous eyes and the rouge in your cheeks. “Other than the present company, only the one I shot in the chest an hour ago. He was working for the Italians.”

He gave you a mere nod before you journey back to him. “At least he got a pretty view at the end of his life, didn’t he?”

His warm fingers brushed yours as you returned his glass, putting out his cigarette in the nearby dish before finding a reason to settle. His free hand pulled you to rest with him in the rundown chair, feeling the warmth of his lap underneath you and enjoying the feeling on his palm splayed on your lower back.

“I’m sure there are other things he would have preferred to see at death’s door,” you spoke gently, only loud enough for him to hear as you washed down the night with a gulp from your own glass. “Though I can’t tell if you're jealous or excited at the prospects.” He grunted before emptying his glass again.

“I have nothing to worry about. Couldn’t give a fuck about other men; just my best girl.”

“I’d say you’ve gone soft on me, Thomas, but I can feel how hard you are.” You assumed the waiting and outfit had quickly got the best of him as you felt him against you, his rigid facade contradicting the yearning you knew he felt. You slowly rotated on his lap to face him, your legs positioned to relax on either side of him. You slowly pulled the pins from your hair as he watched, letting it fall into its natural state before pushing the wayward strands behind your ear. “You’re the only one who calls me a girl anymore. I’ve been a woman for a while now, Tommy,” your hands trailed down to his trousers, slowly unveiling what you so eagerly pined for. Warm. He was warm all over and his gaze felt light fire on your face, the glasses finding themselves near the smoldering cigarette as your hand grazed deeper into his pants. “and for many, I am what death looks like.”

His lips crushed yours in a manner all but patient, his hands tangled between your hair and the back of your dress, aching to release you from all barriers between you. His lips sunk to your jaw and neck as he revealed your bare torso, leaving behind a trail of lustful caresses. You took the earliest opportunity to find balance on the ground and slipped out of the dress that pooled at your waist, tugging away your undergarments with it. By the time you had finished, Tommy’s chest was bare and you had the pleasure of freeing his member before you reclaimed your throne on top of him, calves rubbing against the firm leather of the chair.

Your weight sunk onto your knees and you felt him fill you. It was as if it were your first time again; so raw and natural as if he didn’t already own a part of you that you only now realized existed. The room brimmed with your sharp moans and Tommy’s heavy pants as you bounced on top of him. You tried to feel every bit of this moment without getting lightheaded; you didn’t know if he was pulling you closer or you were pushing yourself towards him as the coil snapped in your stomach. Your hands found their way to the nape of his neck before you let out a shaky whine in his shoulder.

“No, not yet, love,” he cooed as your soft body began to relax in his grip. It would be a sweet yet peculiar notion, to think the night was over so quickly over. You felt your legs slide from the chair as Tommy pulled you to the ground and you naturally found your position. Your hips were lifted as he reached for them and your shoulders fell to the ground. With your cheek to the floor, you could see him in your periphery, the man with a calloused touch that had reached the most inner parts of your desires. “I’m not done with you yet.”

He pushed himself inside of you, and the cry that left your throat was lewder than you could have expected. As you held onto the legs on the worn chair, Tommy only thrusted deeper between your legs. By the time he was pressed fully against you, he was bucking at a pace of his own. “For fuck’s sake, Tommy!”

He bent against you, and his chest was against your curved back, now roping his arm around your waist so every inch of you was connected to him. “They may see you as a woman out there. But in my office, in your bed...on this bloody fucking chair, you’ll always be my girl,” he gritted out. His breath was hot against your ear as he came deep inside of you, bathing in the thrill of filling you up.

All the noise faded while sweat and slick dried between your bodies. His head rested between your shoulder blades as you laid between his arms on the floor. You weren’t sure how long you laid there, moments or millennia, before you unwound your limbs from his, grabbing your pile of clothes in the process.

“I nearly died in your arms tonight,” he said with a trace of humor on his lips. You tossed him his clothes before you pulled on your bloomers.

“It’s not your time yet, old man.” The glare you received had become a familiar friend in the past year. You knew that behind his scold, he was watching you as if you were art in the making; beauty in the moonlight that he didn’t deserve.

Tommy is predictable. He always had a card up his sleeve, something holding unexpected pleasures or unforeseen schematics. The longer you knew him, the more you were sure that he would always be one step ahead of those who thought they had him pinned. Maybe that's why you kept coming back to him. He was reckless and sometimes detached in order to stay ahead, but he was always calculated and cared for you in a way only a man like him could. He fulfilled a hunger no drug, no fortune, and no other man could ever satiate in you.

He took your hand in his, his rough palms soothing to your senses. “Then we must make all the little moments count until then.” He left hot kisses up your wrist and forearm. “Marry me, Y/N.” You scoffed with a laugh bubbling in your throat, pulling away from him as you walked to your room. You needed a bath more than a joke at the moment. “I’m serious, love. Marry me and I’ll give you a house with endless corridors and new furniture.”

“Maybe I don’t want to marry you, Thomas,” you teased from the other room.

“And maybe I only want to fuck a young woman I’m married to.”

“Then you’ve become quite the prude in the last five minutes!”

You could retort day and night, but you knew a ring would be on your finger by next week, whether you had blatantly said yes or not. You would never admit it, but you knew that Tommy saw you as predictable too.

Cuties who have asked me to tag them at some point: @buckybarnesisalittleshit @moonlxghtbay @roliepoliegirl @iamafancygirl @eggingamazinglove @characterobsessed (if you want to be untagged, please message me!)

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby oneshot #tommy shelby smut #thomas shelby oneshot #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders oneshot

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mxvladdy · 4 years ago

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I can't stress enough 'wows' in tve way you write along with the fact that it's you first few posts (i think? Pls correct me) can you do luci mammon and satan with a reader who takes naps bc of overthinking? They just tug their sleeves and shot them a tired look, while looking down shying away. Also, have a nice day and take the time to be yourself!

Aw thanks fam! I am fairly new to posting my works, I tried twice before this with two different writing blogs but I deleted them both bc I felt discouraged. I’m older now and I feel a lot better about my writing, so third time the charm and all that lol! I’m so glad you like my writing! I know I need some work on grammar and expanding my vocabulary.

This was a super cute prompt ;.; I hope I did it justice!

Lucifer

He is a mix of jealous and pissed. He wishes he could fall asleep so easily when he gets inundated with too many things at once. But also- just don’t do that? Where were your manners?

He starts noticing your little peculiarity in class. Specifically that you tend to nod off in advance alchemy and rune scripting. You were being so studious, jotting down notes, ask great questions. Next thing he knows you're out like a light.

He is shocked for a moment before he will wake you up. Your wide doe-eyed frown does nothing to him. JK his hearts clench at your wounded look.

He makes the other brothers report to him about your behavior and odd sleep habit. Were you ill? Was this just something humans did? Devils, was Belphie rubbing off on you?

They all say the same thing. One moment you are working hard or talking to them about a topic you are passionate about, and the next you are yawning hard enough to pop your jaw and shyly asking to lay down.

Well-he can’t have that.

If you are going to fall asleep around anyone it’s going to be him.

He sets up remedial lessons with you after dinner to make up for the work slept through. You sit by him at his long ornate desk while he tutors you on what you missed.

You weren't having any problems, you even finished a few pages. He is proud and then-

“I can almost hear those gears slowing my dear.” Lucifer interrupts himself mid-explanation of Zosimos of Panopolis and Maria the Prophetess's theories of alchemy in human medicine.

You jerk awake and turn to him blinking owlishly. "Yeah, I just need to lay down." You admit.

Lucifer eyes you critically. This was sudden, were you ill? You had been fine moments ago, bright-eyed and enthusiastic. He cups your face, turning it from side to side. "So suddenly? We haven't even discussed the properties of mercury yet." You hum letting your eyes droop. He was always so warm.

"Hour nap break? Please?" His stern gaze softens at how your nose scrunches up cutely as you yawn.

“Very well.” He relents letting you slick over to his couch. You flop over face first with a grunt of satisfaction. You toss and turn for a while, moving his pillows around unsatisfied.

“Luci-” You call in defeat. He ignores you at first. If you wanted to nap fine, he would get some work done in the meantime. “Luci~” You say again. You could see his brow twitching. “Lu-”

“My dear,” He shoots you a withering look. “You are treading a thin line. If you have the energy to call for me you have the energy to study.” You say nothing at his brisk tone, instead of opening your arms to him to join you. “You tempt me.” He purrs hiding his smile behind his paperwork.

“Learned from the best.” Lucifer shakes his head laughing at your smug reply. He glances over you to his grandfather clock. Hmmm-perhaps he could spare a few minutes. He rises elegantly discarding his tie and waistcoat to his abandoned chair. Running a hand through his hair he snorts at your little whistle.

“Move.” He commands. You shake your head patting your belly. “I will crush you.” He laughs but lays over you regardless.

“Good-you’re warm.” You say muffled in his shirt. Wrapping your arms around his middle you drift off. Lucifer holds you close, running a still gloved hand up and down your side. Perhaps he should bring out some more complex topics next time. If this was the outcome-

Mammon

He noticed you get drowsy before in class. Your cute little head jerks as you nod off, hands rubbing at your face as you fight to stay awake before giving in to the need to sleep. It was adorable- not that he was watching you because of that! He was just doing his job of looking out for you

Ye-that was all.

Honestly, he thought you were just like him. He never cared for the books being forced on him in class. Boring useless crap in his opinion. He much rather sleep through a lecture on stats too.

Now books on photography? That's where it's at. He has a legitimate passion for it.

He likes being behind the camera just as much as he likes being in front of it. Though he doesn't snap photos often.

He doesn't need more beratement from his brothers than he already gets. Sides, he just feels like they would look down at this like everything else he does.

He'll share his hobby with you though. You at least seem interested in it. He'll show you his collection of vintage to high-tech cameras and talk your ear off about the makes, models, and features.

You nod along and ask questions from time to time, smiling along with Mammon while he prattles on about color theory next to you on the floor.

He was just getting to Auguste Lumiére when he feels a gentle bump on his shoulder.

"O-oi!" Mammon starts, shaking his shoulder to rouse you. You look up at him, blinking the sleep from your eyes. "Was...was I that boring?" He deflates a little, all previous excitement gone in a flash. You had seemed so interested...

"What? Oh, no. No Mammon I'm sorry. It's really all fascinating," You grab for his sleeve so he couldn't run away. "It was just a lot of information all at once. I just got a bit overwhelmed."

"So you fall asleep?" He raises a brow not believing you for a second. Who falls asleep when something is interesting? He'll admit he's fallen asleep while listening to Levi talk about a new anime or Asmo with a make-up release. But that's because it had been boring. "Is that like a human thing?"

You shrug snuggling closer. "I don't know- but it's a me thing. Give me five? I'd love to hear you talk more about your collection, promise."

Mammon glows scarlet at your words. "Of course you do!" He puffs out his chest excitedly. “I got great taste.” You nod into his shirt before drifting off again. He tilts his head slightly to look at you chuckling internally when your breathing and heartbeat slow down. Damn, out in seconds. Well, better get comfortable.

Uncrossing his long legs he picks up the camera he had been showing you. The old Polaroid lens reflects his face back at him. He remembered the day Land had debuted this marvel of engineering. He just had had to get his hands on one. It was useless now, he had much better quality cameras than this old thing, but he remembered you reminiscing about your human friends and their portable camera. Would you take some pictures with him too? He would take one now, but the sound of the flash would definitely wake you up.

He fiddles with it for a few more minutes, opening and closing the film canister and checking for any parts that needed fixing as he waits. You stir at his side a few minutes later with a little mew of satisfaction. Mammon hears your joints creak and pop as you stretch. "Morning." He says sarcastically, earning himself a light punch to his shoulder. "Ready to continue?"

You nod eagerly, perky and aware. At least for the moment.

Satan

He didn't really notice at first the pattern of your behavior.

You would come over for book club. Which was really just him reading his current novel and you picking something at random to gain a little random knowledge.

You would find a comfortable position on his bed, curl up nice and small and read. Then after a bit yawn and start to snooze.

He first thought it was the atmosphere of his room. It was quiet, warm, and the sound of flickering candles and the rustle of paper sometimes caused him to doze too.

But when it starts happening outside of class he notices.

Hmmm….this is new.

He looks it up in his human anatomy books and finds nothing.

He's not particularly worried about you per se. You always bounce back quickly after a quick snooze.

Then you start dozing when he is talking… >:(

Like his brother/dad he is a little miffed at first but then your behavior reminds him a cat and he loves you 10x harder now

Satan stops in his pacing of the back gardens. His book of poetry hanging limply in his hand. He had been reciting some of the most fascinating lines of work from Lord Byron's later works and wanted a human's perspective. He had thought you were interested. You never complained before when he asked you out here. Perhaps you were just being polite all those times before. Anything to soothe wrath. He snaps his book shut sharply, take some perverse satisfaction in the way you start out of your light sleep at the noise.

"Why'd you stop?" You ask wiping at your face.

"No point talking to someone that doesn't wish to listen." He snaps tersely.

"Oh-Satan, no I was listening. It...it just got to be so much so fast." You flush. “You had some great points going, I just needed a minute.” He watches your eyes grow heavy again, and it dawns on him.

"Do you just sleep when overwhelmed?" He asks incredulously. In all his years with humans, this was new. You shrug making grabby hands for him to move closer. He scoffs but moves into your space. You grab at the hem of his shirt and pull him down to sit next to you. He goes willingly getting comfortable by your side. You eye his lap longingly, hands clutching around his coat sleeve. “Fine-” He rolls his eyes. “Come here you odd thing.” You smile in triumph and crawl into his lap. Once settled you nuzzle into his warm chest.

“Wake me up in ten? I want to hear more about your conversations with Byron.”

“I’ll hold you to it.” He kisses the top of your forehead, opening his book to read again with one hand. You hum at his soft kiss, returning it sleepily with one of your own before passing out again. Ten minutes go by in an instant and Satan looks down at your peaceful face. He smiles to himself, perhaps he’ll let you sleep for a little while longer. You’d need it for his next point.

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me prompts #cute!

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jae-daddy · 4 years ago

Text

Duff (6)

jaebum au series

one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight masterlist

pairing: im jaebum x reader genre: angst, smut, cheating, CEO! i guess too now “ plot: you are the duff and guys use you to get close to your best friend, Heather, and turns out Jaebum is no exception. but as time goes on the tension between you and your best friend’s unofficial boyfriend grows a/n: im sorry for posting after so long. i got busy with new year celebrations and then started struggling with a creative blog. not edited. hope y’all enjoy it! <3

“So, how is it working for the hot new Director?” Naina asked, watching you take a bite of the fries on your plate. You narrowed your eyes at her anticipating face, waiting for any drop of new information.

You frowned at her instead, “Naina, you ask me this every time we meet.”

Naina only pouted in reply, before picking up a fry from your plate and popping it into her mouth. Before you could complain, she lifted up a quarter of her wrap and dropped it on your plate, “I only ask because you never know when situations can change. One day your secretary and boss, and the next day, you both are hooking up on his sexy desk.”

“Did you just call his desk sexy?”

“Come on,” Naina blew gaping at you as if you were the one insane. “Have you seen that majestic dark wood slick piece of beauty?”

“Oh my god, the Director’s desk right?” Pam settled next to Naina. Naina gave you a told you so look, and you just rolled your eyes at their antics. You didn’t say anything as the other two ladies drifted into a conversation about how sexy furniture could be.

You would have normally joined them, and told them about the three thousand dollar coffee table at Heather’s apartment. But you couldn’t participate in their conversation. Not when your mind was elsewhere; somewhere so much more interesting and sexier than furniture.

What Naina had said had planted another seed in your garden of fantasies about Jaebum and you.

This time you imagined yourself spread on his dark wood desk. Your bodies holding on to each other, desperately trying to get closer as he fucked into you.

You swallowed, as you popped a fry into your mouth, making you choke. You coughed a few times to avail before your hands reached out to your friends who turned towards you with wide eyes.

God, this was so embarrassing. You were going to die from choking on a piece of fry at the company cafeteria.

“Y/n!” Naina and Pam panicked, jumping in their seats. They held your hand staring at you horrified and lost. You had such idiot friends, you were truly about to meet the devil any second now.

Suddenly, you were pulled up from your seat and arms wrapped around your waist. You felt the person behind you press into your stomach from behind, making you heave. The smell of rose and vanilla enveloped you as you felt softness behind you.

“One more time,” a smooth voice grunted into your ear. You nodded, frantically, before the person pressed once more. The piece stuck in your throat flew out. You fell forward, your arms catching the table in front of you. Arms covered in a grey jacket held you steady as you caught your breath.

You heard claps, and you were so embarrassed.

“Are you okay?” You turned around and your breath got caught in your throat from the beauty in front of you. Her almond-shaped eyes crinkled as she gazed at you with concern.

Her pouty pink lips drew into a straight line before her fingers gently brushed the hair from your face. Your heart skipped a beat at the touch, before you nodded, holding in your breath, “I’m okay. Thank you.”

The goddess in front of you smiled, her short hair brushing her shoulders slightly, “Chew your food properly, doll.”

She shot you a wink and walked away with ease and confidence. You remained standing there, your hand over your pounding heart.

“Wow,” Naina gasped from behind you. You slipped into your seat, seeing their face mirror your awe, “I think I'm in love.”

“Me too,” Pam and you replied.

You walked into the office after two quick knocks for the sake of formality, and to piss of Jaebum.

Jaebum hated it whenever you did something that an employee was supposed to do, especially when no one else was around.

Jaebum’s office was supposed to be empty with just him sitting on the couch, he worked from.

So imagine your surprise when you walked into his office to find Jaebum and the gorgeous woman from the cafeteria tangled into one another.

You noticed how she was slightly perched on the dark wood of the sexy desk your friends had gushed about. You noticed how Jaebum’s hands spread on her back, and how her head dipped into his neck.

“Oh,” was all that left you. You didn’t know if you should walk back out or stand there until they noticed your presence.

Jaebum noticed you immediately and untangled himself from the woman instantly. You bit your cheek to hold in the urge to roll your eyes. He was going to pretend that you didn’t just walk into a moment in case you went back and reported to Heather.

Typical.

All men are trash.

And you knew Jaebum was just like everyone else already. You knew that the moment he decided to jump the boat from you and Heather literally five minutes after meeting you. He was no different to every other sleazy shit head to walk this earth.

The caught look on Jaebum’s face told you couldn’t hide the distaste from your face as your eyes settled on him.

“Hey, it’s you!” Her smooth voice chuckled, “You work for JB?”

“Everyone here does,” you gave her a curt smile back.

She could have saved you from hell but that didn’t excuse whatever her and Jaebum were up to before you walked in.

Your eyes drew back to Jaebum. The top button of his shirt open, his hair a mess and cheeks flushed. Biting your tongue, you tore your gaze away from him and the mess he echoed.

“She’s my assistant, y/n,” Jaebum finally croaked out. His eyes watching you.

You looked at the iPad in your hand instead of the pair in front of you, “You have a meeting with Mr Mark Tuan in twenty minutes, and dinner with Jackson Wang at eight.”

“No mister for Jackson?” the lady rose an eyebrow at you.

You gave her a polite smile, “No.”

She held your gaze for a moment longer, before turning to Jaebum. She let out a sigh as she hugged him once more. Jaebum hugged her back hesitantly this time, aware of your dark eyes watching them.

He patted her back twice and she moved away.

“It was nice seeing you after so long, JB,” she smiled at him. Jaebum smiled back at her this time, nodding in agreement. She patted his shoulder before picking up her bag from the chair next to the desk. “Oh, before I forget, guess who is back in town and wants to get into business with you?”

Jaebum frowned, and you watched the pair, almost sulking from your corner.

Her smile brightened with secrecy that made you listen intently, “Park Jinyoung.”

Your heart stopped.

“Hey y/n!” You blinked back to reality to find Jaebum in front of you. His eyes staring into yours as he rose his brows in question, “You alright?”

The grimace formed on your lips before you could hold it back. You didn’t even know what you were feeling but it wasn’t pleasant.

You felt it towards Jaebum and how he was hugging that girl. Not because of your feelings, but because he was with Heather.

Not that you had feelings for him or anything.

God, this was so confusing. On top of that, he was back in town.

You felt your frown deepen into a scowl as you glared at Jaebum.

You hissed at him, making him jump back slightly, “Get ready for the meeting. I’ve sent you the report for the meeting already.”

He opened his mouth to something, but you cut him off, “With notes, sir.”

You turned and began walking out of his office.

“Y/n,” Jaebum called out, but you ignored him.

Your foot kept tapping against the carpeted floor as you watched the numbers increase on the screen. You hadn't been able to keep still since the moment you heard the news.

Im Jaebum was no help either. All you wanted was to be left alone but he kept on trying to talk to you or kept on sending you to get coffee.

He didn’t take a single sip of those five iced americanos he ordered. All the cups piled on the floor next to the couch he sat on watching you with those dark eyes.

As soon as the clock hit seven-thirty, you called for Jaebum’s driver and rushed out of the office. You didn’t head home, you didn’t even consider going home for a second. Your feet without hesitation led you to Heather’s apartment.

You entered the code, your birthday, and entered the chilly room blasting with the AC high.

“Heather, I need wine and a good movie for crying. You won’t believe what I just- oh MY GOD- AHHHHHHH!” A bloodcurdling scream escaped you, as you fell onto the wall behind you.

When your scream settled as you took in the figure standing in the pink robe belonging to your best friend, you straightened, confused.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You sneered.

“Wow, such a kind greeting for me,” Bambam rolled his eyes, before continuing to sip the glass of orange juice in his hand. You stared at him, your mind puzzled and trying to figure out what the fuck was going on.

“So what’s the tea?” Bambam smacked his lips before licking the droplets of juice remaining on them. He slammed the glass on the white marble, grinning at you. “Why do you need wine and a sad movie? Time of the month?”

“Why- What- How- Pink robe?” You stammered over your words pointing at him. Bambam stood there as if there was nothing weird about this situation. As if standing in nothing but another girl’s pink robe in a stranger’s kitchen was a normal occurrence for him. Your eyes narrowed at him, “Where’s Heather?”

“Y/n!” Heather appeared through her bedroom door. You took in her wet hair and silk robe, your eyes going to Bambam’s also wet hair. You frowned in confusion, and a fire blazed inside of you as an evil thought sprouted somewhere in the back of your mind.

Did they... Are they cheating on Jaebum?

Jaebum’s face from that night at the club invaded your mind. The smile on his face, the look in his eyes as he watched Heather with such softness, “It’s good she gets to live her life how she wants to.”

God. God.

What do you do?

You glared at Heather. Your eyes burned with betrayal from your friend and the anger that spread through your veins as you thought of Jaebum. You couldn’t bear to even imagine the sight of him heartbroken, defeated and cheated. You would rather the world end than see him like that.

“No, y/n!” Heather huffed taking a step towards you. The droplets from her long ember hair darkening the pink silk wrapped around her body. She took a step towards you and you almost took one back. But your feet remained still, as you saw the panic in her eyes, the desperation, “Let me explain.”

“So, what you’re telling me is that he is homeless?” You grunted at a dressed Heather sitting in front of you.

Bambam sat somewhere behind you, snorting, “I’m not homeless. Just low on cash and have no place to go.”

“That is literally homeless,” you turned towards him, giving him a smile.

“Basically,” Heather nodded, ignoring Bambam’s protest in the background. “I’m letting him stay here for a few weeks until his apartment problem is sorted out. I’m living at home anyways, but I came here today because I spilt coffee all over myself.”

“Oh,” you nodded. You weren’t completely convinced. She could’ve gone home, it was just ten minutes away. And why was both of their hair wet from the shower, when there is only one shower in the apartment. Maybe she might have kicked him out of the shower pulling ownership rank.

You had to believe her. There was no other explanation. The alternative was too cruel, and you would rather believe this than consider the dangerous alternative.

And how could you possibly not believe her? You knew Heather would do this in a heartbeat for anyone, she would do so much more then let others stay in her house. She had done the same for you once upon a time, she had done so much more.

She was even willing to buy you a house and you had to talk her out of it.

Yeah, there was no way anything was going on between Heather and Bambam. Whatever she said was the complete and absolute truth, there was no other alternative explanation needed or present.

Heather would never hurt someone else purposefully, she was pure and kind. She was not you.

“How come you’re here?” Heather asked, changing the subject.

“It’s nothing,” you shook your head.

“She's lying,” Bambam butted in. “She came in asking for wine and a movie that will make her cry. Something happened, or she’s on her period.”

Heather turned to you with a grave look, “What’s wrong, babe?”

You glared at Bambam, before turning to Heather. You let out a sigh as you picked your fingernails nervously. Heather instantly took your hands in hers making you meet her concerned green eyes, “What’s wrong?”

You frowned. Your lower lip trembling, “It’s -”

Ding Dong.

You and Heather turned towards the door, and then at Bambam. He let out an exhausted sigh, before he getting up, groaning.

“What am I meant to do? Send them away or- Oh, it's JB,” and without hesitation, he let the dark-haired male in.

Your frown deepened as you glared at the doorway he appeared through. His eyes landed on you right away and stayed on you. You held his gaze, your face darkening into a glare.

His rosy lips parted, his dark eyes filled with desperateness and despair as he held your gaze. It was as if all he saw in the room was you; as if the rest of the people, all disappeared.

It terrified you. It terrified you how this single moment made your heart flip and race. He terrified you.

“Oh good, you’re here Jaebum,” Heather spoke from behind you, and finally, Jaebum looked away from you. But it didn’t stay there, his dark eyes fell back on you, watching you intently.

Was he scared you would tell Heather what you saw in the office?

You scoffed at him, shaking your head as you looked away from him.

“Take Bambam out for a bit,” you heard your best friend’s sweet voice tell her boyfriend.

“I’m not a dog!” Bambam protested. Heather laughed behind you, but Jaebum and you didn’t as much as attempt to smile. Your eyes glittering with fire remained on him before you smirked at him.

You noticed his jaw tightened.

He was so pathetic.

You couldn’t believe you were worried about Heather cheating on him when he was almost dry humping another girl in his office. Well, you didn't see the humping, all you saw was the embrace, but you never know.

You can never know with guys like Im Jaebum, with their bad-news piercing and bad fuck-boy ways.

“Come on, let’s go,” Bambam began dragging Jaebum away, making him look away from you. “Clearly the ladies want us out.”

The door clicked behind them, and you felt your throat dry up.

Heather felt the tension too. She gently placed her fingers under your chin making you meet her gaze, “Now tell me, why do you need a sob night?”

“Heather,” you breathed. Your heart felt as if it would escape out of your chest. Your palms clasped sweatily, as you fisted them in your lap.

Two thoughts bounced around in your head, debating which one do you tell her.

Do you tell her about Im Jaebum who might have cheated on her if she hadn't walked in? Without any proof, without any certainty?

Or do you tell her what you wanted to, what had been bothering you since the afternoon?

“Heather,” her name left you shaky and weak, you gulped, your throat dry, “he’s back, and I might be seeing him around.”

Heather looked at you confused, and you continued, “He wants to get into business with Jaebum, and I'll have to be there.”

“Who, y/n?”

“Park Jinyoung,” you held in your breath.

Rage blazed through her emerald eyes matching the fire of her ember curls. She shot up from her seat, her fists clenched on her sides, “Fuck off if that asshole thinks he can come anywhere near you.”

You snorted, “He isn’t trying to come near me, Heather. He’s trying to do business with Jaebum.”

“I’ll talk to Jaebum to-”

“No.”

“No?”

You shook your head, “No, I can do this.”

Heather looked at you for a long moment.

You leaned into her, letting her engulf you into her arms, “Just let me be sad tonight and get ready for tomorrow.”

“My baby is all grown up,” She kissed your forehead, pulling you closer to her, “I’m so proud of you, but I’m always here for you.”

You nodded, you knew that.

The door of the apartment opened and you slightly turned to find Bambam walk in with four bottles of wine, “Are you guys ready to cry?”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help but giggle as he popped one open and offered it to you.

“Fuck yeah!” Heather cheered. You all turned to her, surprised. Heather didn’t talk crude, but tonight she didn't care to act proper. She just rolled her eyes, “Tonight, we are improper human beings.”

Bambam turned to Jaebum who stood a few feet away, “You in?”

His dark eyes travelled to you once again. After a long moment, he nodded, finally, tearing his gaze away from you and to Bambam.

“Good, go get the glasses,” Bambam ordered him laughing. He turned to the front and pulled out the remote, “Notebook, Titanic --”

“One Day,” you say.

They all gasp and stare at you. You just shrug and take a sip of the wine.

“You really chose heartbreak today, huh?” Bambam snickered, pulling up Netflix. “One Day it is. Jaebum get the tissues ready.”

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all1e23 · 4 years ago

Text

Bad Habit [Pt.1]

Pairings: Biker!Steve x Reader

Series warnings: Drug use. Violence. Smut so 18+ please and thank – No smut this chapter. Sorry to disappoint

A/N: Part 1! 800 years later. I’m doing my best to get my wips finished by the end of the year so fingers crossed I actually do so. Un-beta’d. So, uh, yeah. Be prepared for that.

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!****

Two weeks it’s been since his mystery girl came into his life, and Steve hadn’t seen or heard from her since she bolted out of the clubhouse’s front door before the sun had cleared the trees. At the time, Steve was disappointed. He had plans. There was a burning need for waffles and bacon and syrup covered kisses, the exchange of numbers, or the very least names and a plan for next time. All those wants quickly evaporated along with the dust those tires kicked up during the hasty getaway. In hindsight, it was probably for the best that morning played out as it did. If Bucky had been there to witness a girl running from his room at first light, he would never hear the end of it. Before the day was out, Bucky would have the whole clubhouse believing he ran another girl off. Thankfully, the only person to catch the escape was Sam, and he was doing everything he could to convince Steve to forget about it. Sam told him nothing good came from chasing a girl that didn’t want to be chased, but Steve has this feeling in his gut, this time wasn’t like before.

Whoever you were, you were different.

Maybe you had him under some sorta spell, and that was why he couldn't forget you. It would explain a lot. You captivated him from the moment you stepped into the bar, and he still saw stars long after you ran out the front door and out of his life. He never really stood a chance if he was honest with himself; Steve knew he was in trouble from the first glance. Two things were apparent right off the bat, you were going to be a handful, and it would be hard, if not impossible, to earn your love. Still, Steve chased after you like a novice sailor following a siren’s melody. He had no problem admitting he was willing to follow you out to the middle of the ocean only to find himself unable to swim in the dark waters you lived in.

In the past, Steve had a bad habit of falling too fast, loving quick and fierce. You would be his last. He just had a feeling things would go his way this time--if he could find you.

As much as he wanted to see you again, he didn’t have any idea how to make that happen. He didn’t even know your name and had no idea where to start looking for you. Hell, he didn’t even know if you lived in Brooklyn. For all, he knew this could have been a stop on your way home where you already had someone waiting on you. All he had was the necklace you gave him, and that was a dead-end. It was just a one-night stand. He should toss the chain in a drawer and put that night behind him. Most men like him would. They would move on to the next girl and forget you existed. Steve, though, he’s stubborn (so says Bucky), and it’s a good thing he is because it’s always worked in his favor.

Steve ran his thumb over the gold pendant resting against his chest and grinned as he watched you move around behind the bar.

The one place he would have never thought to look.

"Well, I'll be damned,” Steve whispered to himself, still watching as you talked and laughed with customers.

Natasha mentioned she hired a new girl he hadn’t met yet a few nights ago, but without knowing his siren’s name, there was no way he could have connected the two. He had no idea that this Y/n was his Y/n. Now that he found you, he only had to get past the high walls you built up around your heart.

Steve parted the worn red leather stools to make room for him to lean against the polished wood, drumming his fingers impatiently along the bar top waiting for you to finish up with the man you were serving at the far end and finally notice him. You gave the stranger in dark brown leather a high squeaky laugh in return for the lousy pick-up line he threw at you. It wasn’t the same laugh, Steve knew. The laughter he memorized was light and airy, your whole body shook when it took hold of you, and it made your eyes sparkle in a way that could steal his breath like nothing else. Steve found that out early in the night when his beard tickled your inner thigh. The memory made him grin. He wanted to hate how fake you sounded right then, but it also meant you let him see a part of you you kept hidden from the rest of the world, and that was enough for hope.

You turned around and stopped short when you spotted Steve standing there, grinning at you, looking just as pretty as he did the last time you saw him. He trimmed his beard, but it was still thick only cleaned up a bit, and those pretty blond locks tucked behind his ears made him look like a young boy. The tattoos on his forearm peeking out from the rolled-up sleeves and the black leather kutte resting over the snug burgundy Henley reminded you he was no boy. He was trouble, and he was looking to drag you into his mischief. That wasn’t going to happen, no matter how pretty he looked. It took a second for your brain to remind your feet they needed to move. Steve slid around the bar as you made your way towards him.

"What are you doing here?" You asked quietly, refusing to look up from the IPA bottle you were cracking open.

"Came to see a friend of mine. His wife owns the place. I have to admit I thought it would be a lot harder to find you."

Shit. You stopped mid pour and set the glass down, half full of foam. That would need a re-pour.

No. This wasn't happening. Surely, he didn’t mean… No, no. No.

"Wait..." You needed to know before you said things you couldn’t take back. "Are you talking about Bucky?"

Steve tilted his head to the side. Now, that had his curiosity piqued. You could see him processing your question, and you knew exactly what he was thinking: Why did you know that Bucky was Bucky? It was rare that Bucky interfered in Natasha’s business at all. Everyone knew who her husband was and what he was, but it never went beyond James Barnes, Vice President of The Howlers. This sounded like you were… friends?

You should have kept your mouth shut and walked away the second you saw him.

"You know, Buck?"

Buck... Oh, god.

It suddenly all made so much sense, and you were such an idiot.

“Why me? What did I ever do to deserve this? I’m a decent person, aren't I?” You asked, looking up at the ceiling as if someone from the heavens would answer you. “This is so bad. Why do you have to be you?”

You groaned and dropped your head to the bar top. Your one night stand was Bucky's best friend. Club president. Your Steve was Steve Rogers. The Howler’s MC President. The man who went on the road for three years and no one knew why, the one who went nomad and only returned home a few weeks ago. This was why you never let tequila make your decisions. You always end up doing something foolish, like charming bikers that will break your heart.

“I think this necklace of yours might be my good luck charm. Led me right to you, firecracker.”

“Good luck or a curse?” You grumbled against the slick wood top. Steve hummed, clearly amused by the light chuckle that followed. You slowly lifted your head to glare at him, and he simply grinned back.

“Definitely good luck, sweetheart,” Steve assured you with a wink.

You refused to smile, and you certainly weren’t going to be the one that looked away first. You won’t give in to whatever he’s playing at. Steve settled against the wood and stared right back; his bright blue eyes glittered with amusement and something else that made your skin tingle and your inside burn with want. You recognized a young blond man from a night or two spent at Bucky and Natasha’s place strolled by the bar, only slowing down long enough to pat Steve on the back, but Steve didn’t even blink at the distraction.

Nothing could pull him away from you.

“Hey, Nomad. You comin’?”

Nomad?

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute Clint. I’ve got some business out here first.”

You could hear Clint cackling as he walked down the long hallway that led to Natasha’s office. You wondered what the club wanted here and how often the club— and Steve— would be hanging around. Natasha said there wasn’t any overlap between the two. There was a moment of uncertainty and fear when she first offered you the job. You didn’t know if you could work for her if her business was mixed up in club business. That was until she assured you the club didn’t interfere in her affairs. That put some of your worries at ease, not all but enough to give you the courage to accept the job. Your last run-in with an MC was why you ended up south Brooklyn begging Natasha for a place to stay and a position. That was how you ended up working at Red Star and sharing a pathetically tiny apartment with your new friend Wanda.

There was no one else, no other friends to run to if things go south again. This was the only second chance you were getting, and you couldn’t blow it on someone like Steve Rogers.

“Thought your name was Steve?”

Steve grinned.

“That’s my given name. These idiots call me Nomad when they aren’t calling me Prez or Cap. Stevie on occasion. Everyone’s got a nickname ‘round here.”

You’ve heard plenty about their nicknames and all the things they’ve done to get them.

“I think I prefer Charming,” you mumbled, walking down a few stools to finally hand over a fresh, less foamy IPA to the grump at the far end of the bar.

Every time you moved, Steve followed you, dodging the bodies sitting and standing, and there were several times you had to tell your heart to shut up and keep the flutters to herself. It was becoming increasingly evident that Steve wasn’t going to give up easily. Seeing as how he would probably be around often, you needed to put an end to whatever storybook ending he was building up in his head.

"You can call me whatever you want."

You rolled your eyes and slipped the neck of two bottles between your fingers on each hand.

“Can I have your name now?”

“No.”

Steve laughed. He just laughed as if there was something funny about what you had said. He didn’t seem annoyed or upset by your callus tone. If anything, he enjoyed it. Once your hands were free, he reached for you and circled his long fingers around your wrist, loose enough you could easily slip free if you wanted to, but you made no move to lose his touch. You didn’t want to draw any more attention towards the two of you than you had already. That was absolutely the only reason you were letting him touch you. It had nothing to do with how much you liked the feel of his warm, calloused hands on your skin.

“I could keep calling you my firecracker.”

“I’m not your anything,” you were quick to correct him.

“No, you're not,” Steve said with a grin. “We haven't even gone on a date yet.”

Yet! As if there is a chance it would be happening. He was sadly mistaken if he thought there was going to be another page to your story. You raised a brow, and Steve hung his head in defeat, but the smile on his face hadn’t changed when he finally looked back up. Something about this man made you want to hide in the safety of his arms and stop running long enough to see if fairy-tales were real.

That was why things between you would never work.

“Why won’t you give me a chance, hm?”

Because you're just like all the rest, pretty and dangerous, the harsh voice in your head screamed. It was probably better he didn’t know you thought he was pretty. He seemed like the type to focus on the compliment and ignore the rest.

“Mmm, I’ve played with bikers before. The ride is dangerous, dirty, and short-lived. The risk is never worth the reward.”

That made Steve frown for the first time since he walked into the bar and your heart-clenched at the look of concern on his face. For a second, you thought about taking it back. Telling him he could be different and maybe he was a good guy with a half-decent heart—even if you didn’t believe it.

“Sounds Like you're playing with the wrong bikers. My rewards are always well worth the ride, babydoll."

On second thought, with lines like that, maybe you were right from the start. You weren’t about to fall for the same overplayed words he’s used on every other girl to catch his eye. It would take a lot more than a cheap shot to get you back in his bed. You leaned forward, ghosting your lips over his and slowly pulled back, grinning when he chased after you. You were starting to like this game, and that was begging for more trouble than your heart could handle.

“All you bikers are the same,” you whispered, leaning across the bar practically nose to nose. “Sweet talk to get into a girl's panties, and then you’re over it. You all claim it’s love at first sight, but it never is. It’s about the chase, the high. It’s never about the girl.”

Steve sighed. It didn’t sound annoyed, genuinely unsettled by your words, but he wasn’t irritated. More importantly, he wasn’t aggravated with you, but you were sure he felt sorry for you, which bothered you more. When you dropped your gaze, he gently nudged your chin up with his knuckle until you willingly looked up to meet his eyes.“One problem with your theory, firecracker. I’ve already been in those pretty panties of yours, and I’m still chasing you. Did you ever think that maybe I’m not playing with you? That I actually like you?”

The knot wedged in your throat made it impossible to answer. So you shrugged instead and let your silence speak for itself; no, you didn’t think that, and you didn’t trust him. None of what he said proved anything. It didn’t mean he was different. It just meant his rules were. The high would end once he won your heart, and you would be tossed to the side while he moved onto a newer, prettier skirt.

Steve would get bored once he finally earned your heart and your trust, and that made him worse than the others. You would know. You pulled your chin away from his hand but stayed close enough to feel the heat from his hand.

"Go to dinner with me."

"Steve--"

"Y/n," Steve sighed playfully, grinning at the shock on your face. He knew your name, but he still asked for it? He shrugged, reading the question that was burning in your eyes. Natasha. She must have mentioned the new girl she hired, and Steve was smart enough to put two and two together. You weren’t sure you liked him knowing your name. He was that much closer to knowing all your secrets, and you couldn’t let that happen.

"Go. To. Dinner. With me. Please."

You hated how adorable he looked begging and pleading for only a few hours of your time. He was so cute, and you nearly gave in. Your head overruled your heart and reminded you exactly why you weren’t dating men like him. It only led to heartbreak, and you would very much like to avoid spending your nights crying over another beautiful biker who rode off with your heart.

"I told you, I don't want anything serious. I’m not looking for more than what we had."

"It doesn't have to be more than dinner, and I swear if you really don’t want to go on a date with this will be the last time I ask you. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to, but I am dying to get you back on my bike. Next Saturday night, if you’re up for it. You can even pick the place if you want to. I promise it will be dinner only. No strings."

"No strings?" you questioned, eyeing him for any signs of deceit as you did. There was none. Just an excitable puppy staring back at you, ready to give you whatever you wanted if you’d let him.

"Yeah, why not? We can be friends with benefits or whatever the kids call it nowadays."

"Are we friends?"

"We are if you say yes, darling."

You could feel yourself giving in, and you already hated yourself for it because Steve was grinning victoriously, eyes bright, and pleading with you to say yes. You held up one finger ready with your conditions, and Steve quickly grabbed your hand, pressing a kiss to the back, lost in the excitement of what he already knew was about to leave your lips.

“One dinner, and I’m not promising any benefits.”

Steve lowered your hand and tilted his chin an inch, so his lips were brushing yours when he whispered, “Good. I prefer to earn every one of those sweet whimpers.”

Someone behind you cleared their throat, and you quickly yanked your arm back, bumping into the wall of bottles behind you, causing the glass to rattle against each other. Bucky’s eyes flicked back and forth between you, and it didn’t take long for him to put it together. A slow grin stretched on Bucky’s face, quickly turning smug. He knew about your one-night stand, not in any detail but that you liked your mystery man far more than you should, and you assumed Steve shared his thoughts on that evening. You narrowed your eyes at the brunet when he opened his mouth, and it quickly snapped shut—grabbing the empty crates at your feet needing something, anything to use as an excuse to get as far away from both of them as you could. The fridge in the basement was the furthest you could get at the moment, and that was precisely where you were headed.

“Don’t even say it,” you hissed as you pushed past Bucky.

Bucky watched as Steve’s eyes followed you until you were out of sight, disappearing down the stairs behind the bar. He looked drunk, maybe a little high, and definitely a little lovesick.

“Gettin’ into trouble again, Stevie?”

“You could say that, Buck,” Steve sighed helplessly. “I’m getting into something. Not sure what just yet.”

Prologue // next

#biker!steve rogers #Biker!Steve Rogers x reader #Steve rogers x reader #Steve Rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #Steve x you #Steve x reader #modern au #alternate universe #MC!AU #MC!Steve Rogers

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sunshinepunches · 4 years ago

Text

Tomura gets a kiss at the kissing booth

Warning: Major character death i’m serious

Shigaraki/reader Words: 1.7k

Also posted on ao3 😳😏

————

His first kiss.

He was gonna get a kiss today at the University open day and that was gonna be it. Then those whore bastards, Dabi and Takami, couldn’t say anything ever again. Well, they could still make fun of his virginity, but not his kiss virginity. How was he gonna do it, you ask? The cheerleading club had opened up kissing booths to raise funds for charity. That’s how he was gonna do it.

There were several booths, all with cute girls in them, they were the cheerleading squad after all, in their cheerleading outfits too, tight tops and tiny skirts. He nearly chickened out, but stood in line at the nearest one before he could. He quivered excitedly on the spot. The girl at the counter was cute. That being said they were all cute.

When he reached the counter the girl took one look at him, “Oh ew,” she said.

Tomura panicked. Ah. He didn’t think it was that bad? Was it his face? He showered yesterday?

“Look, I’ve already gone overtime, and I really don’t wanna touch anymore compsci nerds like you.” She looked harried and Tomura had no idea how she knew he did compsci, “where the fuck is Y/N?” She pulled a University branded sweatshirt over her tiny top, “God, I can’t believe they’re whoring us out like this,” and flounced off, clearly very over it.

Thus leaving Tomura, horrified, stuck to the spot. Had that really happened? Had a kissing booth girl denied him a kiss? He felt far too ashamed to join the other line. Some of the students were eyeing him with mixed amusement and pity. God, he just wanted to disappear. He started to stiffly walk away, scratching his neck anxiously, when he heard you.

“Wait! Oh my god. Wait, just wait! Please don’t leave.” You dove heroically behind the stand, dragging your sweatshirt over your head, messing up your bouncy hair.

Tomura goggled. It was you. Cheer squad captain. 3rd Year Bachelor of Physiotherapy. One heck of a Big Deal on campus and an Absolute Bombshell of a woman. Saved a cat from being run over once, rumours said you stopped the car with your bare hands, other rumours said you picked the car up off the cat’s broken body and set the bones yourself.

“Y/N” Tomura whispered.

“Yeah, Oh dear god you know me. I am so, so sorry.” You bowed your head deeply at him. “I am,” you looked at your arm which didn’t have a watch on it, “like, really late.”

“That’s ok,” said Tomura tightly. He had an erection seeing you take the sweatshirt off and he hated himself for it. Your hair looked so soft, he wanted to die in it.

“And oh gosh, I- have seen you around campus haven’t I?” You sure had. He knew exactly where the cheer club did their weekly training, next to the swimming pool, on the oval and he’d always sit himself on the bench looking very hard at the flipping skirts while tapping away at his code. Once, you sat down next to him, sweaty after yelling out instructions at your team and bent down to retie your shoelaces. You smiled at him mindlessly and flung your messy hair back up into a ponytail, sweat dripping down your neck. It was the best moment of his life, and he figured that was the closest he’d ever get to a girl. He didn’t even make it home, he had to limp off into the pool bathrooms and jerk one out right there.

“And, sorry, your name was?”

Tomura wasn’t jerking off in the pool bathrooms, he was standing there, staring at your tits. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Um, Tomura?”

You smiled. It was as beautiful as that time on the oval. Tomura melted a little bit. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take. He already felt himself getting stiff.

“Well, Tomura, would you like a kiss?”

Would he like a kiss? He could die happy just being offered one. He would get run over in place of that cat for a whole kiss!

“It’s for charity,” you continued brightly as if you read his shellshocked arousal for hesitation, “We’re raising funds for kids with cancer at the local hospital. We’re even gonna have our mascot go to the hospital for the sick kids! I think that’s really nice, it’s something fun for them to get their mind off things!”

Tomura was glad those kids were dying from cancer because it meant this opportunity. He shakily took out his wallet and dropped a fifty into the donation jar.

Your perfect mouth o’d at the donation. “Oh, how generous Tomura! Thankyou so so much, hopefully we can reach our target sooner.”

You were so sweet, he would pay a thousand if it meant you never kissed anyone else ever again. But his heart was beating very fast and it was seemingly getting unbearably hot.

He swallowed, mouth dry, “yeah, uh, goodluck. Hope you guys get it.”

You smiled again, it was brighter somehow than the damn sun. It was blisteringly hot actually. Wasn’t there a cool breeze before? He was sure of it because he was looking at skirts all day. And what was up with his heart slamming against his chest? Well he was kinda about to kiss a Big Deal so that was normal.

You looked concerned at him. Noo he didn’t like seeing you frown. Your lips seemed to be moving slower than your words, “Are you okay? Tomura?” Oh, you were worried about him, that was super cute actually. You could frown a bit more if it was over him.

He found he couldn’t reply, but actually he couldn’t breath either. It really was so hot and blurry, and it wasn’t just because you were hot. Everything was hot and blurry.

Tomura passed out.

————

Tomura came to pillowed on a soft lap and a tender hand stroking his sweaty forehead with a cool handkerchief. Cheerleaders tittered above him and hovered about, curious. He could see up their skirts...

“Everyone! If we could give him some space please!”

No he didn’t need space, he needed a face full of hot cheerleader ass. Your spandex bound tits came into view, actually he decided he didn’t need other girls. “Tomura? Are you alright?” You gently stroked his hair, and he pushed into it weakly. It felt really nice. And he was right next to pussy. It was going straight to his cock.

“I had the nurse check up on you and it seems like you had a panic attack. Oh you poor thing,” you murmured at him, eyes glistening with pity. You had such nice manicured hands and they were just scratching his scalp in a delicious way. He needed to cum.

“Oh, the nurse said to hydrate you.” You proffered a pink bottle, “Oh sorry, it’s mine, I hope you don’t mind.” He shot up and snatched it from you and took several greedy gulps.

You giggled. Tomura thought it was a nice sound.

“Seems like you’re feeling better.”

Tomura sunk back down onto your lap and meekly handed the bottle back. “Just thirsty, still don’t feel good,” he half lidded his eyes, and breathed in your flowery perfume. He hoped you bought his excuse. He’d like to stay forever.

“Aw, ok,” you sounded genuinely disappointed. “I just thought I could give you your kiss if you were up to it.”

Tomura’s ear twitched.

You continued playfully, “but if you’re not feeling up to it then...”

Tomura opened his eyes with a snap and narrowed them at you, “I feel well enough for a kiss-,” he said snappishly, then caught himself and coughed as if ill, “I think,” he corrected, pretending to struggle to get up. You pushed him down again, getting on top of him, pushing your plush tits to his chest.

“You really think so?” You said, licking your lips. “I don’t wanna hurt you again.”

“No, no, this is good, this is fine.” He nodded eagerly, hoping you weren’t feeling his rock hard stiffie. Oh, you were, you were grinding on it, that was hot.

“Okay then” you breathed. You touched your lips to his tenderly, belying the fact that you were grinding your hot core against his zippered erection. Tomura grunted, opening his mouth, enjoying the wet hot slide and the perfect way your mouths slotted together. And oh, you had his lower lip between your teeth. Tomura was sure he would faint again. You only nipped him gently before returning to your passionate makeout session. The hotness of it was giving Tomura enough courage to run his hand up your sides. You whimpered and grasped his hand, shoving it under your skirt. Tomura’s head combusted. He could feel the swell of your thigh and the slick slide of your tongues against each other, he didn’t know what to focus on at all. You ended the kiss with a gross pop and Tomura could see there was still a drip of saliva connecting your mouths. “Oops,” you giggle, diving in for a naughty peck which broke the saliva string. You twirled a finger through your long gorgeous hair, “Got a little carried away.”

Tomura nodded in agreement. “Yeah same.” And at that point he decided he could die happy.

————

You couldn’t believe it. Tomura fainted. He gave you fifty bucks and passed the heck out, twitching disturbingly on the ground and frothing at the mouth.

You’d called an ambulance immediately of course. A man just went down! How could you not?

They’d been fussing around inside for almost an hour now. And it wasn’t looking good.

A tired looking nurse emerged from the back of the ambulance, “Sorry, are you family? Anyway, uh the kid’s dead, sorry,” he told you, “He had a heart attack.” Your team tittered behind you, gasps and other noises of horror.

Some guy yelled unhelpfully “Y/N just killed a guy!!”

Dear God, you supposed you had. That wasn’t a rumour you’d live down so easy. Not after the cat incident. And the poor guy didn’t even get his kiss.

But you were keeping the fifty.

#major character death #shigaraki imagines #shigaraki fluff #shigaraki/reader #shigarakixreader #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki

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marvelsdc22 · 4 years ago

Text

My Neck, My Back/Santa Tell Me

Intro: Hello, lovelies!! Its been a minute since I’ve posted something that wasn’t a drabble, but now I have quite a lot of time on my hands so I’ll be able to write more!! Anyways, here is my contribution to the song challenge with @imnotasuperhero, once they’re both posted, we’ll have a small poll posted to see who you guys think won!! No feelings will be hurt!! Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy!! Merry Christmas, you filthy animals🎄🎄(and since you asked to be tagged @frostedfavesmain)

Note: Wanda and Y/N spend the night in, celebrating Christmas with one another, things get heated... Fast... This is... Pure filth, oml 🙈(based off of this song I found YEARS ago and happened to share with Vee (my dignity)

Word Count: 2625

SMUT, NO MINORS AND IF YOU DON’T LIKE THEN PLEASE DON’T READ, PLEASE AND THANK YOU!!!

While this was not your first Christmas with Wanda, you did your best to make this as special as the last one, you and Wanda had been together now for three years, engaged for a few months of that third year, you were happy and you wanted to show her just how happy you were with her, practically rolling out the red carpet for her as you set it all up, the house all decorated with your Christmas decorations you guys had set up a few weeks prior, but now you had roses on the floor and all the fairy lights on in the house, trailing the roses to your guys bed, where you were planning to leave quite the surprise for her.

All you ladies, pop your pussy like this Shake your body: Don't stop, don't miss All you ladies, pop your pussy like this Shake your body: Don't stop, don't miss Just do it, do it, do it, do it, do it now

Checking yourself one last time in the mirror, you heard the door to your guys apartment open, you guys having moved out of the compound about a year ago to get away from work when you guys could “Y/N?” You heard Wanda call, the curiosity in her tone evident as you quickly made your way over to the bed, you in your Christmas lingerie you had gotten the week before resting in the sexiest pose you could think of, hearing her heels clicking on the hardwood floor until she opened the door, her dropping the purse in her hands when she saw you strewn out on the bed “Hey, babe” you said as seductively as possible, you seeing her eyes flash red which you took as a good sign “You gonna open your present?” You teased, gesturing to yourself and having a bow on the top of your head “I’m gonna do more than that” Wanda promised, her voice deep with lust as she approached you.

Lick it good Suck this pussy just like you should Right now, lick it good Suck this pussy just like you should

When she got to you, she immediately captured your lips with hers, the song playing on your phone barely able to be heard as she kissed you, her hands roaming your body as she pinned your wrists down to the bed and straddled your lap, you releasing a groan when she pulled her lips from yours and trailed down to your neck, peppering your face with kisses before she reached her mark and bit down, making you gasp and arch up into her touch “Wanda” you groaned, biting your lip as you closed your eyes, letting yourself get lost in her touches and kisses until she pulled away, pulling a whine from you as you stared up at her like a wounded puppy “Easy, moya lyubov’” she tsked, reaching over and taking the bow out of your hair.

“I need you to move up to the headboard, can you do that, pup?” She asked, looking at you and you nodded, moving yourself back until you were propped back on the mountain of pillows you guys had, her situating them to where you could be most comfortable before she grabbed some fairy lights that were hanging off the side of your headboard, feeling her take one of your wrists before slowly starting to wrap the lights around it, making your heart pound in your ears, her staring at you with lust but also concern, she wanted you comfortable more than anything and you knew she wouldn’t do anything you weren’t comfortable with, and when she saw no signs of discomfort, she went on to your other wrist, securing both to the headboard “Comfortable?” She asked, looking at you and you could do nothing but nod, her capturing your lips in a much gentler kiss than before to calm you more, she wouldn’t hurt you and you trusted her with your life.

My neck, my back Lick my pussy and my crack

First you gotta put your neck into it Don't stop, just do it, do it Then, you roll your tongue From the crack back to the front Then you suck it all till I shake and cum, n*gga Make sure I keep busting nuts, n*gga All over your face and stuff Slow head, show me so much love The best head comes from a thug The dick good: Thick, big and long Slow thumping til the crack of dawn On the X, making faces and stuff Through the night, making so much love Dead sleep when the sun comes up

Watching her through half-lidded eyes, you watched as she trailed her lips down your body, pushing whatever part of the lingerie was in her way as she went, stopping at your breasts and taking one pert nipple into her mouth, while she stimulated the other with her hand, making you gasp and pull against your restraints, the not being able to move making you even more wet since you were giving her full control of you, something you had never done with anyone else before, and boy did it feel good “Wanda” you moaned, letting your head fall back against the headboard when she switched her mouth to your other nipple, her teeth gently tugging at it and making you arch into her more “Use your words, pup” she teased, running her free hand down your stomach, to the waistband of your matching underwear you had on.

“Wanda, please” you begged, tugging on the fairy lights wrapped around your wrists “Please what?” She asked, her fingers ghosting over your core “Please fuck me, please” you begged, locking eyes with her and seeing her smirk before she tugged on your legs, you letting them fall to wherever she wanted them, tugging your underwear off and discarding them somewhere on the floor before she threw your legs over her shoulders and got comfortable between your legs “Did you clean up for me?” She asked teasingly, you crying out slightly in aggravation when you felt her breath on your core before she tsked and ran her thumb along your clit, making you shudder and drop your head back against the headboard “Good girl” she hummed, watching your expressions for a moment before diving in, seeming to go along with the song as she did.

My neck, my back Lick my pussy and my crack

After a few moments of using her tongue on you, she focused her mouth on your clit while she inserted two fingers, making you cry out “Wanda! F-Fuck” you cried, trying to arch up into her fingers and mouth, but feeling an invisible force seem to hold you down, you looking down and seeing a red tendril holding you down, meaning she was using her powers on you “N-Not fair” you groaned, gasping when she inserted another finger and did that thing with her tongue, you seeing white before cumming with a gasp of her name, her helping you through it until you went limp in her grasp.

“I’m not done with you yet, pup” Wanda said, pulling her now drenched fingers out of you and cleaning them by putting them in her mouth, making sure you were watching as she did so, effectively turning you on even more as she hummed at the taste, you entranced by her until she leaned down and pressed her lips to yours, you tasting yourself on her lips but you could honestly care less “I love you” you said when she pulled back, bringing a small smile to her face “I love you too, now hush, pet” she said, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips before she fully pulled away and went to dig in your guys closet, you watching with hungry eyes as she stripped down fully and pulled a harness on and attached one of the many dildos onto it before she turned to face you, you biting your lip as you looked her up and down “You ready for a ride?” She asked, looking at you and you nodded, making her smirk before she approached you again “We’re going to need to change your position” she said, starting to untie you from the headboard.

You might roll dubs, you might have G's But fuck that, n*gga: Get on your knees A bitch like me moans and screams Thug Misses know what I mean At the club, so fresh, so clean Hoes hate and n*ggas watching me So high in the line on green With a unit on my face, so mean I got to pick which n*gga I need Cause only thug n*ggas satisfy me You try me, I'll make you see You bitches ain't got shit on me

My neck, my back Lick my pussy and my crack

Once she had you flipped over on your knees, she tied your hands back to the headboard before stepping back to admire her work, her having taken off your lingerie and wrapped your body with some more fairy lights “That’s my girl” she praised, gently running her fingers along your back and making you shiver as she did, taking the dildo in her free hand and angling it to your face “Come on” she urged, watching as you took the dildo in your mouth and bobbed your head up and down on it “You take that cock” she said, her accent coming out more than it had in years as she tangled her fingers in your hair and helped you take the dildo deeper “Good girl” she said, biting her lip and feeling herself start to get slick just from watching you suck her off.

After a moment, she pulled you off the dildo and kissed your cheek before she lifted you up enough to lay underneath you, grasping your hip with one hand while the other angled the dildo up to your entrance before she pushed you down onto it, making you gasp and throw your head back “Wanda” you gasped, letting your head fall forward so it was resting on her shoulder “That’s my girl, come on now, move with me” she said, using her hands to help you move up and down until she was pounding into you, you not able to say anything that sounded anything like a word “W-Wanda, I-“ you said, feeling you getting to that edge and feeling her tighten her grip on your hips “Let it go, Y/N/N” Wanda whispered into your ear, that being all you needed as you felt yourself release for the second time that night, your vision going blurry for a moment from how intense your climax was before you collapsed on top of Wanda, her just holding you for as long as you needed her to.

Santa, tell me if you're really there Don't make me fall in love again if he won't be here next year Santa, tell me if he really cares 'Cause I can't give it all away if he won't be here next year

After a few moments, Wanda reached up and untied your wrists, lightly rubbing the fresh red marks apologetically and kissing both of your wrists “I’m sorry” she murmured, feeling bad for leaving marks on your wrists from the lights “For what? The mind-blowing sex we just had?” You laughed, looking at her and giving her a small smile before you kissed her gently, pushing yourself up and gasping when the dildo slipped out of you.

Scooting down her body, you removed the harness and tossed it onto the bedside table “Y/N” Wanda said when she felt you pushing her legs apart “You don’t have to” she said, knowing you were probably spent from the two orgasms she had just given you “I want to” you assured, pushing her legs apart before slowly running your tongue along her wet center, causing her to gasp and reach down, tangling her fingers in your hair as you fucked her with your tongue, making sure your nose hit her clit every time you pushed your tongue in, making your fingers heat up as you grasped her thighs before you moved your tongue to her clit.

Pushing two warm fingers into her core, you heard her gasp your name, you glancing up and seeing her head back against the pillows, her sweat slicked hair covering the pillows underneath her, nothing looked sexier than a sex induced Wanda Maximoff and nothing could change your mind “Y/N, please” she begged, you knowing just what she needed as you pushed another finger inside her and curved them in a ‘come hither’ motion, only needing a few more thrusts until she cried out your name and your face and fingers were covered in her juices, pulling back with a smirk before you took your fingers in your mouth and cleaned them off with a hum, locking eyes with her just as she did with you.

Feeling Christmas all around And I'm trying to play it cool But it's hard to focus when I see him walking 'cross the room Let It Snow is blasting out But I won't get it in the mood I'm avoiding every mistletoe until I know it's

True love that he thinks of So next Christmas I'm not all alone, boy

Santa, tell me if you're really there Don't make me fall in love again if he won't be here next year Santa, tell me if he really cares 'Cause I can't give it all away if he won't be here next year

After you both cleaned up and had a little more fun in the shower, the two of you were snuggled up in your warm bed with a Christmas movie on, Wanda laying on her back while you were half on top of her laying on your stomach with your arms wrapped around her and hers wrapped around you “I love you” you muttered, resting your chin on her chest and closing your eyes when she pushed your wet hair out of your eyes, her hair tied back in a braid “I love you too, moya lyubov’” she said, pressing a kiss to your forehead while you reached up and took her left hand, gently running your thumb over the engagement ring.

“I can’t wait to marry you” you said, smiling as you looked at the ring on her finger, the smile growing when she laced her fingers with yours “I can’t wait either, just two more months” she said, smiling at you and her having feared no one would ever love her, but then she met you and she wouldn’t change that for the world “Merry Christmas, Wanda” you said, giving her a squeeze as you got comfortable with your head on her chest “Merry Christmas, Y/N” she said, kissing your head as she wrapped her arms more securely around you, glad to have met the person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

I've been down this road before Fell in love on Christmas night But on New Year's Day, I woke up and he wasn't by my side Now I need someone to hold Be my fire in the cold But it's hard to tell if this is just a fling or if it's

True love that he thinks of So next Christmas I'm not all alone, boy

Santa, tell me if you're really there Don't make me fall in love again if he won't be here next year Santa, tell me if he really cares 'Cause I can't give it all away if he won't be here next year

Oh, I wanna have him beside me, like oh-woo-oh On the 25th, by that fireplace, oh-woo-oh

Permanent Taglist: @rianncreates / @natasha-danvers / @youngandwildx7 / @hopingforbarnes / @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

Marvel Taglist: @thanossexual

Female Marvel Characters: @imnotasuperhero

End Note: I hope you guys enjoyed!! If you’d like to be added to a Taglist, shoot me an Ask or a DM!! Have a good day/night!! And look out for Vee’s entry!! :)

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #marvel x reader #marvel #smut #song challenge

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eyeballjazz · 3 years ago

Note

First of all I've been binge reading your fics whenever I get some free time so huge kudos to ya <3

Second, I've got a fun lil ask for ya: domestic headcanons for HB/PI and SS/DD :D

how do they share all their houses' chores? We all know HB is probably an amazing cook and DD looks like an organization freak but what about the rest? Does anyone besides HB knows how to cook a proper meal? We need to know!!

Well, hell!

First of all, thank you so much this is so sweet! Absolutely makes my day to know you’re enjoying my work. I hope you get lots more time to read soon, bro!

And second I’m about to go ON so I’ll chop the post here, but I’ve got headcanons old and new cooked up for you:

As I’m sure you’ve noticed I like writing about buildings so I can tell you exactly what everyone’s houses are like. The whole Crew lives across from each other on a block in the center of their territory, Slick and Droog in a Victorian townhouse and Hearts and Clubs in a duplex that’s broken into two railway style spaces. Slick would live shoebox if it was up to him, so thankfully Droog has very opinionated taste and likes spending his husband’s money enough to buy a whole antique for them to live in.

I don’t have to tell you that cooking is huge for the Crew. They’re a small family of Italian uncles, so cooking is a major factor of their lives.

As skill goes Droog is the best cook out of anyone. He’s self taught but for the very basics and some old family recipes his mother drilled into him back in Tuscany. And like everything with Droog, he’s someone who grew up dirt poor and now desperately wants to show off taste and affluence by being a highbrow snob. That means his skill for cooking has driven towards very elegant, subtle cuisine, lots of French influence (he says it must have been Italian, originally, but the French got famous for it somehow), and small portion size. Think of the fanciest restaurant you've ever been to and how teeny the serving sizes were and then imagine it was cooked by someone who is ferociously closeted and you’ve got it.

Despite all that, Droog has not had working taste buds in at least thirty years because he’s smoked two packs a day since he learned to walk. Slick, likewise, had a bad smoking habit and quit for the kids so he’s not swimming in buds either. Add to that the fact that he’s had his nose broken so many times he’s functionally lost his sense of smell and you’ve got a match made in heaven.

Lucky them, Karkat and Aradia get the spoils of Droog’s great cooking and are the picky eaters their fathers wished they could have been as boys. Droog is very proud to have snotty kids. So it is his great displeasure when, instead of having a single scallop lightly seared in browned butter then dusted with rosemary and thyme, the kids just want peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. But both happen regularly.

Hearts is a close second but of a very different school. He learned to cook primarily from his mother, who is a master of Southern cooking and made sure her boy knew how to do for himself before she let him leave her home. The rest he learned as a cook in the army, and then later from Droog after Hearts insisted he learn some real Italian recipes since his father never cooked when Hearts was a boy. Hearts still has a habit for cooking for a literal army and so he often cooks for the whole family.

His food is mostly soul food/American southern and he seasons hard and often. One might even say it is dangerously flavorful, and everyone agrees it is extremely fortifying. It’s even strong enough to get through to Droog, who can (with the addition of hot sauce) taste it and secretly wishes Hearts would offer to teach him a thing or two.

Too willful to learn, Slick is a very low third place. He doesn’t care about food much and burns most things he tries to cook out of impatience. Plus, he hasn’t needed to learn since he married Droog so why start now?

Pickle Inspector, dead last, can’t so much as fry an egg. He loves food and knows the locations and operating hours of every restaurant and pub and gas station hot bar in the city. But cooking itself eludes him. He does occasionally try to go vegetarian but folds immediately when offered the chance to have a big beautiful meal he didn’t have to cook himself.

This matches up perfectly with Hearts’s master plan, which is to feed Pickle Inspector to within an inch of his life. And Pickle, like a stray cat, loves the attention and knows where the free food is. Hearts insists he’s too skinny and will often say ‘Just have a little,’ and then hand him a plate with half a lasagna on it.

HBPI is a ‘you cook, I clean’ split. Self conscious of his lack of cooking knowledge Pickle does every dish in the house whenever he sneaks in (read: breaks in) to spend time with Hearts and Tavros. And very often when he breaks in he tries to carve out some time to spend playing DnD with Tavros, with an ambition to get him and Hearts in a game so they can show Hearts a more kinetic version of fantasy than having a read a lot of books by nudists from the 60’s.

Because they may or may not be out as a couple to the Crew, Pickle and Hearts don’t get to spend a lot of time out on Hearts’s front porch together, although kicking back on the porch is one of Hearts’s favorite things to do. But, every so often, they take their coffee together out on the porch way before anyone else is awake. They watch the city all in blue together, right before the sunrise.

SSDD and chores are much more complicated.

Droog is fastidious, meticulous, and intense about cleaning. He also uses it to avoid or ignore any emotions he may be feeling so their Victorian is constantly spotless. Droog does all the kitchen chores, all the rewarding dusting of art pieces, mantles, and mirrors, and looks after the kids to make sure they learn how to keep their own spaces clean.

He dumps all the chores where you actually chance getting dirty on Slick. Taking out the trash, mowing the lawn, cleaning the bathrooms, washing the cars, touching anything weird, bugs, that’s all Slick.

Slick also looks after their garden, not for any love of plants but because he’s gotten himself into an all out war with a warren of rabbits that want to eat Droog’s spices and tomatoes. The war has been multi-generational for the rabbits and they’re too invested to pull out now. Slick is the only person who really looks after the garden, Droog assumes ownership of the plants but doesn’t care about them beyond having fresh basil to cook with.

Slick’s contempt for the bunnies and ferocity in keeping his husband’s plants alive have made him an unwitting expert on what a good spice garden needs. Like Droog, his feelings for the whole thing aren’t tied to love for the plants but instead pride and anger. Droog, meanwhile, loves seeing Slick do violence in his name and will often watch his tantrums in the backyard whenever one of the tomato plants gets chewed up.

Whew, this got long quick. Since it’s already so long, I’ll leave you with one more hc which is that Pickle Inspector knows how to juggle. Thank you again for the great questions, this was so fun!!!

#the midnight crew #ssdd #hbpi #spades slick #diamonds droog #hearts boxcars #pickle inspector #the intermission #I fucking love domesticity bro I LOVE IT

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thediamondgirl17 · 4 years ago

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Alpha!Goshiki x Omega!Reader: That Day In The Gym (SFW!) Part 2

I literally got a request to make a second part to this, like...3 minutes after I posted! That made me feel super duper happy! So per a request, I shall be continuing the story! I hope this chapter lives up to the last one and that you guys like it! Also, if you guys want a Part 3, then I will totally do one for you!

Warnings: Strong language, maybe some suggestive language. Also a little bit of depression at the end?

Here is the link to Part 1! if you haven’t read it before this one I definitely recommend doing so! Anyway, here you go! I hope you enjoy!

“So, are you actually going to do it?” Your friend asked you as you sat down outside ready to eat the lunch that you had packed for yourself. The two of you were currently outside on a bench on campus, and you hummed as you opened your small bento. Inside was some onigiri you had made, along with some salad in the same box. You broke apart your chopsticks to eat the salad.

“I-I don’t know...,” You said softly and looked up at them.

“What do you mean you ‘don’t know?’” They paused and sighed, looking up at the sky. “He even scented it! That’s totally a sign that he wants to see you there!” They said and tilted their head to look at you. “Besides, being the manager of the Apex Alpha himself!” They snickered. “It would be like you were his boss!” That comment made you stiffen up a bit.

“H-huh?! Th-that isn’t exactly a good thing! Besides...I feel like their coach will just treat me like I’m trash and make me do all of the ‘house work’ kind of stuff...,” You said and took a bite of your salad.

“And then you have your new Alpha to take care of you!” They said like it was nothing. You practically started to choke on your food with very pink cheeks.

“H-He isn’t m-my Alpha!” You said nervously. You shook your head and placed your bento down next to you. You gently flattened out your purple skirt. “H-he just-,” You were about to say, but your friend had cut you off.

“Stood up for you? Went nose to nose with an Apex Alpha for you? Offered you a spot on the team? Scented something for you?” They said a bit sarcastically. You gulped and nodded a bit. “Well to me it sounds like he’s interested...Just go to the practice and see if you can get it...That will give you the credit from the program to make you look good at colleges!” They shrugged. “What could go wrong?”

“Don’t ask that!” You said quickly and eyed them nervously. “If you say that then something will definitely go wrong!” Your friend just chuckled and the two of you got back to more normal topics of conversation.

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“And this is exactly the reason that I did not want to do this.” Coach Washijo grumbled as he looked out the doors to the gym, only to see a fair amount of female Omegas looking around with practical hearts for eyes at the thought of being the first Omega manager that the Shiratorizawa boys volleyball team would get.

“Too bad all of my fellow Omegas suck,” Tendou said with a creepy glint in his eyes as he tilted his head to look at them. “Only driven by the primal desire to find a strong mate to fill their needs when they’re in-”

“That’s enough Tendou.” Ushijima said sternly. “We have practice. The coach will deal with these squealing pigs.” He said and turned around.

“Wow Ushiwaka-kun! Calling them pigs!” The red head snickered. And soon the Omega followed the leader of the pack to the court. However, Goshiki seemed a bit distracted as he kept looking over at the door, hoping to see your face among the crowd of nose burning Omegas.

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You stood in the back of the crowd, standing in your purple gym pants and white t-shirt. You looked over the sea of girls in the exact same uniform as you. Your (h/c) hair was tied up in a tight ponytail (or clipped/slicked back/whatever you like for your hair style) and your (p/c) shoes were drowned out by all the others around you. Scents of all kinds filled your nose from the Omegas around you, and you hated it. Gently you tried to slip through the crowd of other Omegas that gathered at the door to the gym.

“They should pick me!” One said.

“No, no, me! I am much more mothering and sweet!”

“I have the best scent! It should be me!”

You groaned as you slipped through the crowd. ‘How annoying...,’ You thought to yourself as you moved against the crowd. All you wanted to do was peek in...right? That was it, peek in, see if you liked it or not, and then leave...right...?

“Hey! Watch it!” Comes the annoyed voice of an Omega you had bumped into near the front door.

“S-sorry!” You said quickly in response. The other Omega near the front of the gym door stared down at you with an evil look in her eye, almost as if she emanating energy that said, ‘I’m better than you!” You stepped backwards away from her a bit before you felt a hand wrap around your upper arm and pull you into the gym. You yelped a bit as you were a bit harshly tugged into the gym and the door slammed shut behind you. You flinched a bit and shut your eyes went the door closed. However, after a moment you opened them to find a boy with a slanted bowl cut, and very light brown hair staring back down at you. You immediately tensed up under his touch and your eyes went wide. There was a bit of silence that filled the air, along with your nervous scent.

“Goshiki.” The light haired setter said, and turned to the court where the purple haired boy was currently in the middle of a spike. His eyes shifted over for a split second and he fell face first into the net. You heard the red haired middle blocker laugh his ass off the moment that Goshiki’s face plunged into the net. This left the next ace of Shiratorizawa flustered and embarrassed that you saw that. He stood up from the floor and gently brushed himself off, he turned to walk over to you with a light expression that looked a bit relived to see you in the gym. However, before he fully made his way over to talk to you, Coach Washijo got there first with his arms crossed, and a not very happy expression plastered across his face.

“Shirabu. Why is she here?” He asked sternly and looked up at the setter.

“She was the only one not screaming, for one thing. Second, she was drowning in other Omegas. And third...,” Shirabu paused and looked over at Goshiki. “He invited her here personally.” And the moment after he said that, your cheeks, along with Goshiki’s cheeks heated up a nice pink color, and the two of you stood shyly across from one another.

“He didn’t-!”

“I didn’t-!” You both said at the same time. This caused the both of you to tense up a little more due to that face.

“I-I n-need a-an athletic club...,” You mumbled softly. “And...I-I mean...I get it if you want me to leave!” You added quickly. “S-since I got the flyer I-I decided to come around...b-but I didn’t expect this much...,” You said turning to the closed door and biting your bottom lip.

“Awe!~” Tendou cried and rushed over to you. He placed his hands on your shoulders and leaned down, almost touching nose to nose with you. “I like this one...,” He said in a low voice and squinted his eyes. Then he jumped up all happy again. “Can we keep her?!” He asked, leaning over to the coach.

“I-I’m n-not a dog-,” You were about to protest.

“If she can stay out of your way and do the basic tasks that you boys shouldn’t be focusing on then she can.” The Beta coach said with his arms still crossed. “That is...if she even wants to stay...she’s already caused enough trouble as it is...,” He said strictly. You stood in silence and looked around at the gym of intimidating Alphas, Betas, and your fellow Omega.

“I-...I’ll stay...,” You said meekly.

“Yay!” Tendou cried happily. “I have a little friend!” He laughed and skipped off in a lanky way to the court.

“If you stay, you work.” Coach Washijo said and glanced over to the water bottles off to the side. “Go fill those. Then come back and I will give you more useless errands to run.” He stated before heading back to the bench. You glanced over Goshiki for a quick second before going to grab the bottles for the team and fill them.

And so began your first week as the new manager for the Shiratorizawa boys volleyball team.

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It was...awful. A little over a week had passed since you ‘joined’ the boys volleyball team as a manager. And let’s just say...Coach Washijo definitely believed in the hierarchy of titles. Hence why Ushijima was the leader of the pack. An Alpha that was stronger than other Alphas? That was a definite ‘yes’ for the coach. And on the team, no matter what year you were in, Alphas always had the final say in what Betas and Omegas did. If Shirabu, one of the Betas on the team asked you to do something, and then Semi, one of the Alphas, asked you to do something as well. Semi’s need would always need to be met first, and if it wasn’t you were harshly scolded by the coach. And one more thing...You were treated like trash by Coach. Tendou was a stronger Omega, and a more dominant one at that, and he was a third year, which left you at the very bottom of the pecking order.

And it wasn’t just the way you were treated, but it was also the early morning practices, and the late night practices, where you would have to set up the gym before everyone came in, and finish packing up once the team was headed back to their dorms. But only one Alpha would poke his head in to see you, make sure you were okay, or talk to you. And you had appreciated that a lot. Sometimes he would come in and sit down and talk to you while you cleaned. It would make your heart flutter and your cheeks warm. One afternoon you were sweeping up the floor and he watched and talked to you for a bit before there was silence.

“I’m sorry...,” He said softly.

“What for?” You asked pushing around the broom.

“I would help you if I could...But Ushijima said that it was your job...,” He trailed off and felt his heart sink for admitting that he didn’t want to leave you to clean up their mess.

“Oh it’s okay!” You smiled softly. Your smile made his heart pang for you as yo rushed around to clean up everything.

“...but it’s not...,” He said softly, before being interrupted.

“Let’s go!” Shirabu said to him. “Or our dinner is gonna get cold...,” He said before walking off. Goshiki offered you a look that said ‘I’m sorry’ before rushing off to meet the second year. Leaving you standing in the gym.

“Bye...,” You said softly to an empty room.

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You walked into practice with a small yawn and stretched out a bit. Like you had been doing for the past few days, you started to set up the gym. You pulled out the cart of volleyballs and made sure the air pressure was good, then you got the water bottles and filled them, and then set up the chairs for the coaches. And everyday, Goshiki would come in before everyone to help you carry the poles and set up the net. And you would always smile with a small blush, and he would looked down and flush and help you carry everything in silence. However, today would prove to be different.

You stood with Goshiki against the wall while he sipped his water and talked about random things on your mind. Most of the time you asked him about volleyball, things like rules, positions, and things like that. Happily the purple haired Alpha would answer, and his face would light up when explaining things. In honesty you would ask him to re-explain some things just to see his face when he talked about it. ‘He’s so passionate...,’ You thought to yourself as he swung his hand at an invisible volleyball, and you nodded with a small smile. However, the sound of the gym doors opening and closing caught both of your attentions and you glanced over to see Washijo and Ushijima coming your way.

Even if Ushijima hadn’t made himself known physically, he had this overwhelming scent of...dirt basically. He smelled like the sort of soil that had been rained on, and the sun was shining on for a while. His scent was thick and filled the entire room when he walked in, and it made you shiver a bit. Not a shiver that one would think is good. This shiver would make your hairs stand on end and would make you feel much more nervous around him than any other Alpha you had met. Which would make sense considering he was an Apex Alpha.

“(L/n).” Washijo said sternly, which immediately got you on your feet and walking over to the two of them.

“Y-yes...,” You said a bit nervously, he sounded upset, so you braced yourself to get yelled at.

“We need a calendar schedule of your heat cycle and the type of suppressants that you’re on.” The coach said with thinned eyes.

“H-huh? I-Is that all?” You asked a bit surprised,

“Yes...We just need to know when you won’t be here.” Washijo said.

“And when your scent may start becoming stronger, so that we can practice without the distraction.” Ushijima added on in his monotoned voice.

“Y-yeah...I can get you those papers by tomorrow if you’d like...,”

“The sooner the better...,” The coach said. And you nodded a bit.

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That afternoon practice had rolled around, and during your free time you were able to grab all the documentation that you needed to give to Coach Washijo. Once everything in the gym was set up, all the boys lined up for a roll call of what they would be doing that day. However, you brought your papers to Washijo and stood in front of him as he looked them over. Unfortunately, Tendou stood beside him, and Tendou has always had a big mouth.

“Hey! I’m on the same brand of suppressants!” Tendou said happily and chuckling. “Your heats must be agonizing~,” He leaned over to you and your cheeks got really red.

“I-I c-can bear it...,” You said softly.

“You know it only gets worse the more your around Alphas!” He noted. “Mine got MUCH worse, to the point where I had to get a stronger prescription.” He chuckled darkly.

“I-I’m sure I’ll be okay...,” You said looking down. The conversation had caught the purple haired wing spiker’s attention and silently listened in as he did is stretches. “W-wait don’t you dorm with Ushijima? So then why-?”

“Why doesn’t it affect him?” The red head asked tilting his head. “Apex Alphas are SUPER special!~” He cooed. “My heat to him would be like a fly in our dorm. He knows it’s there, he just doesn’t care.”

“An Alpha not affected by an Omega in heat?...Now I’ve never seen anything like that.” You said softly.

“Well have you ever met an Apex Alpha?” He asked with raised eyebrows.

“N-no...,”

“Well that explains it!” He said and headed off without another word. However, a certain purpled haired boy had listened in on the whole conversation, and wore a sour face, his scent became a bit sour, but it mixed in with everyone else’s and was barely noticeable.

‘Alphas not affected by heats impress her? I need to be like that...But can I?’ He thought to himself as he kept on stretching. ‘I’m not an Apex Alpha...Could I become one though? Then she would like me? Right?’ Thoughts like that kept running through his head as he sat on the ground. However, once he heard the whistle that practice was starting, he snapped out of it and joined his team mates on the court.

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“If you’re going to do it...do it now...,” Shirabu said sipping his water. “Do it while she’s in the bathroom.”

“I-I can’t j-just go for it!” The Alpha shot back at the Beta. “Th-this is an intimate thing...,” He mumbled and looked down at your backpack.

“I thought scenting was only intimate when you did it to each other...,” He said with furrowed eyebrows.

“It’s intimate in general-,” He paused and looked up at Ushijima as he walked over.

“Court her on your own time, right now you are supposed to be resting and drinking water.” He said in his usual stern voice.

“...yeah...,” Goshiki said while looking off to the side, grabbing his water and chugging it down before getting back on the court to blow off some steam about what just happened. He was already nervous as it was, let alone to have Mr. Apex Alpha tell him that his decision to court you would have to wait until later, when that opportunity to scent your bag was perfect. He silently kicked himself in the butt for not doing it before the great Ushiwaka walked over. But seeing your happy face as you walked out from the bathroom made him relax. Everything about you did. Your smile, your laughter, your interest in his favorite sport. Everything about you made him feel even more attracted to you as each day passed by.

Practice went as usual for you. Do the housework tasks, get yelled at by Washijo, let the Alphas walk all over you. And as you went through the day, your thoughts turned more poisonous to your own mind. ‘What am I even doing? Its been over a week and I haven’t even been accepted into the pack. What am I doing wrong? Why do they hate me? Is it because I’m an Omega?...No...Tendou is an Omega and they like him...,’ And then. The final string snapped.

“Move.” Semi said as he reached over you to grab a water. It wasn’t exactly harsh, but it wasn’t like he was treating you with respect either, just like almost everyone else.

Instantly your scent turned sour and you tensed up, feeling tears roll down your face. You knees gave out and you fell to the ground and covered your face with your hands. The little chirp you let out alerted all the Alphas and Betas nearby that you were in distress. Tendou more specifically looked over at you.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, Semi-Semi...You sent our poor little Omega manager into a small Omega depression.” The red head said looking at your trembling form on the floor.

Everything was happening in slow motion for Goshiki. You falling and crying, Tendou’s words. Everything. But the second that your distressed smell reached his nose. Something in him snapped too.

‘Comfort her.’

He rushed over and grabbed his track jacket and brought it over to you. He gently laid the jacket on you like a blanket and sunk down to your level. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest. Your shoulders untensed at his scent and you nuzzled into his chest with your eyes watering a bit.

“It’s okay...,” He said softly as he gently rubbed your back.

#haikyuu #xreader #goshiki #goshiki x reader #omegaverse #alphagoshiki #omega reader #anime

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lotusss-flowerbomb · 4 years ago

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Look Back At Me

Florian x reader

Warnings: Smutttttt

A/N: This is my entry for @blackmissfrizzle‘s 2K Follower Celebration & Bad Bitch Challenge!! Look Back At Me by Trina ft. Killa Mike was my song prompt.

Word Count: 2,582

********

"Please leave your message for—"

You hit end call and tossed your phone onto the bed. This was the third time you'd tried to call Florian and he let his phone go to voicemail.

Ever since the fight you two had days ago, he'd been ignoring you. No calls, no texts.

"Fuck him, then," you said to yourself and turned on the TV.

Seconds later, your phone started vibrating. You wrestled with the covers to find it thinking Florian was calling back. Once you picked it up and saw your best friend's name, you sighed and slid the call button.

"Hey Bree," you greeted.

"Biiiiiiitch!! You're not at LUXX?!" She questioned.

"Obviously not, ma'am, do you hear music in my background?" You sassed.

"Well, ya boy is posting on his story all up in VIP with Sandro, Masias and some hoes."

"What?!" You hurried to grab your tablet and went to Instagram.

Clicking on Florian's story, you watched as he smiled and laughed with his friends. Some chick in a tight green dress sitting closely next to him.

"Did y'all break up and you didn't tell me?"

"I mean, we had a fight over something stupid and we haven't been speaking, but a break up is news to me…"

"Nuh un, don't sound sad. Get dressed. I'll be there to pick you up," she said before hanging up.

You thought about texting her and telling her that it wasn't worth it, but you weren't gonna sit around with hurt feelings while he partied, so you hopped in the shower to start getting ready.

********

You were putting the finishing touches on your makeup when Bree called to tell you that she was pulling into the driveway. You grabbed your clutch, threw your phone inside and headed out.

"Ooh, you look cute," she said when you got inside of the car.

"Thanks, boo, so do you," you air kissed her cheek.

When she pulled up to the club, she gave the valet her keys and the bouncer let you both walk right in. You could hear people grumbling behind you about how they'd been waiting.

Since everyone there knew who you were, another bouncer escorted you both to the VIP area.

"We're getting our own section tonight, Leo, giving the boys their space, ya know?" You told him.

He raised an eyebrow at you, but didn't question it. He sat you in the section right next to Florian's. A bottle of champagne rested in the bucket waiting for you upon arrival.

Within seconds, Florian and Masias were walking over to the two of you. Bree pretended as if she didn't see them as she popped the bottle to pour the champagne.

"What are you doing here?" He questioned.

"Don't worry, I didn't come here to bother you. My friend asked me to come out with her so I did," you shrugged and grabbed your flute.

"Come here, I need to talk to you."

"No, that's okay, when I tried talking to you you ignored my calls, remember? Go ahead back over there with your groupies," you dismissed him.

Florian walked away. He wasn't gonna cause a scene there. If you wanted to be that way then fine.

"Go back over there with your friend, Masias," Bree said.

"What if I wanna stay with you?" He smirked.

"Boy bye!" She waved her hand

"You've never even given me a chance."

"Because I know your type and I won't be wasting my time, now go away."

Masias finally gave up and walked away. You side eyed Bree. You knew that she had a thing for that man and they flirted like two lovesick teens, but tonight she was standing in solidarity with you.

You waved your server down and asked for more champagne. You figured it'd be safe to stick with that instead of mixing it with hard liquor.

********

You were on your fourth glass of champagne. You were up dancing to the music and every so often you'd look over just to see Florian staring at you and made sure to sway your hips perfectly to every beat.

With the alcohol coursing through your body, you were feeling the vibes and really having fun despite your “ex” being in the section next to you.

"Ladiieeessss, if you remember this song, I want you to come to the dance floor and show out for me one time!" The DJ announced.

"If you want it you can get it if you wit it, I'ma hit it flip it rub it dump it smack it look back at I'm an addict—"

"Ooh! That's my shit let's go!" You grabbed Bree's hand and led her down the stairs.

Florian stood and watched you over the balcony. You and Bree hit the dance floor and rapped along with the words.

"I got a ass so big like the sun. Hope you got a mile for a dick I wanna run. Slap it in my face, shove it down my throat—"

A guy walked up behind you and you started grinding on him. Florian's blood immediately started to boil. He knew that you were acting crazy in order to get under his skin.

"I know how to fuck. I know how to ride. I can spin around and keep the dick still inside. Now ya mouth wide, you lookin real scared. I'ma man eater, head hunter, I'm prepared—"

You turned around to face the guy and grabbed the back of his head.

"If you want it, you can get it if you wit it, I'ma hit it, flip it rub it up and smack it look back at it I'm an addict. Look back at me—"

That set him off. He walked down the stairs slowly and headed towards the dance floor.

You weren't paying attention to him and hopped up on the platform with the stripper pole as the second verse started.

"Put this pussy in yo jaws now smack. Like it's Thanksgiving and it ain't coming back—"

The room was spinning before you could understand what was happening. You yelped and grabbed on to the nearest body, so you wouldn't hit the floor.

Once you realized it was Florian, you tried to snatch away, but he had such a tight grip on your arm that you weren't going anywhere.

You had to skip in order to keep up with his quick stride.

"I have on heels, you need to stop before I fall!" You yelled over the music.

He didn't turn around, but he did slow down a little. When you got outside, his truck was already waiting at the valet and the attendant had the door open and waiting for you.

"Get in," he demanded.

"No, I came with Bree and I'm not gonna leave her," you turned to go back inside, but he grabbed you again.

He lifted you up and sat you down in the seat, put your seatbelt on and then slammed the door behind him. When he got into the driver's seat, he closed the door so hard you were surprised the windows didn't break.

The ride home was mostly silent. You rubbed your wrist where he'd been holding on to you.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you," he reached over and rubbed the spot gently.

Your phone started vibrating inside of your clutch. You figured it was probably Bree checking on you, so you answered.

"Are you okay?!" She yelled the moment you picked up.

"I'm fine," you shrugged.

"I was trying to get out there to you, but Masias wouldn't get out of my way," she explained.

"Don't worry about it. Is he gonna ride home with you? I didn't want to leave you by yourself."

"Yes, he's riding home with me and his ass isn't even allowed inside. He can wait in the lobby for his Uber!"

You laughed. You could only imagine how hard she'd just rolled her eyes at that man.

"Well don't worry about me, I'm fine. You just get home safe and try not to hurt the poor guy." You advised.

"Okay and Florian, you'd better not hurt my friend or I will come after you!" She hollered.

"Goodnight, Bree," you laughed and hung up.

"Does she really think that I would harm you?" He asked.

"Well, you did just drag me out of a nightclub while your friend kept her barricaded inside," you shrugged. "Also, I don't want to go to your place. Take me home."

"My place is your home. You're the one who left and went back to your apartment over a petty argument."

"Petty?!" You screeched.

"Yes, petty! And then you're in there shaking your ass and being disrespectful."

"Oh, I'm being disrespectful as if you didn't break up with me??"

He pulled into the driveway and before he could put the truck in park, you were jumping out and walking back towards the road.

He quickly ran behind you and threw you over his shoulder.

"Put me down right fucking now, Florian!" You punched his back.

May as well been hitting a brick wall.

He set you on your feet once you were inside, but made sure to stand in front of the door, so you couldn't leave.

"Who said that we broke up?"

"You not answering my calls and letting your lil bimbo bitch be all over you at LUXX told me everything that I needed to know. But then you get jealous when you see me with another guy? You're full of shit."

"That's not—"

"Save it," you cut him off, "I didn't get in the way of you getting fucked tonight, so you shouldn't have gotten in mine."

You watched his face darken. Of course you didn't mean the words that you'd just so foolishly said, but it was much too late to take them back.

He walked towards you slowly. Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest at any moment. You backed up until you hit a wall.

"Shit," you tried to turn and run, but he grabbed you and slammed you back into the wall.

"You wanna get fucked?" He growled. "What were the lyrics? You got an ass so big like the sun?" He lifted you dress over your ass and palmed it in his big hand.

He used his other hand to grab yours and guide it to his dick. You could feel him growing hard through his jeans.

He kicked your legs apart and rubbed his fingers over your pussy.

"Is this enough dick for that mile ride?" He asked as he slid a finger inside of you.

You unbuttoned his pants and reached inside to squeeze his cock. He groaned and slid another finger into your core. Working them in and out quickly. It felt so good, you pressed your forehead against his chest.

He used his free hand to grip your cheeks.

"Open up," he said.

You stuck your tongue out as he pulled his fingers from you and stuck them in your mouth. You kept eye contact with him as you sucked on his slick coated fingers.

Once you were done, he lowered you to your knees. You assisted in pulling his jeans off and freeing his throbbing member. You licked your lips at the sight of him.

He grabbed your face so you once again opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue. He slapped his dick on it and then on your cheek.

"That’s what the song said, yeah? Slap it in your face? What's next?"

"Shove it down my throat," you quickly answered.

He wasted no time sliding into your mouth until he couldn't go anymore.

You grabbed his ass and pushed him further down. Relaxing your throat, so you could take all of him in.

Florian threw his head back. A loud groan leaving his lips. He pulled out, because he knew that a second longer would've resulted in him cumming down your throat and he wasn't through with you yet.

You took a deep breath when he was fully out. Smiling up at him, because you knew why he moved.

He helped you up and then bent you over the couch.

"I really don't like the way you were acting. Making that fucker think that he ever had a chance with you," he got down on his knees behind you and sucked your clit into his mouth.

He licked and sucked on your pussy from the back like a pro. Reminding you of one of the reasons why you put up with his shit.

You were struggling to stay upright in your high heels and the upcoming orgasm was causing your knees to buckle.

He turned you around. He wanted to see your face when you came. The way you bit your lip, the way your eyes pinched shut. It was all reserved for him and only him.

"Look at me," he demanded. "This is my pussy, right?"

You couldn't answer. Your mouth dropped as a tingling sensation washed over your entire body. You laced your fingers in his short hair as you rocked back and forth over his face.

He stood and scooped you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he brought you around to lie down on the couch.

"Answer my question," he said as he trailed kisses from your lips to your throat. "Who does this pussy belong to?"

"I'm single, remember?" You taunted him.

"Ooh," he pulled the top of your dress back exposing your nipple. "That's the wrong answer," he said and bit down hard on your nipple.

Your scream was a mixture of pain and pleasure.

He turned you on your stomach and grabbed your waist forcing you onto your knees. He slapped your ass twice before thrusting inside of you.

You screamed and scratched at the couch. He fucked your pussy with no remorse. Undoubtedly making you regret what you'd said to him.

"Fuck, Florian, you're—"

"Shut up and take it," he said and grabbed your throat.

You still tried to run a little, so you laid down flat. Worst idea ever since you were now trapped beneath his large body. His hand pressed into the arch of your back as he fucked you.

"Look back at me," he turned your head. "Now, whose pussy is this?" He hit you with a hard stroke in between each word.

"Yours! It's yours baby," you moaned as you felt the waves building once again.

He gave you a sloppy kiss as his hips started to stutter.

"Yes, daddy, cum in your pussy," you urged him.

You tightened around him as you came. Digging your nails into the material of the sofa. That provoked his orgasm and he released ribbons of warm cum inside of you.

After a few seconds of catching his breath, he pulled out of you and lied down beside you.

"I'm sorry," he finally broke the silence. "I should have talked to you about our problems instead of ignoring you."

"I forgive you," you reached up to scratch his beard, "just don't let it happen again or I'll knock yo ass out."

"Oh, really?" He repositioned himself, so that he was in between your thighs.

You felt him getting hard again and tried to move.

"Nah, let's see who knocks who out first," he said as he slid into you again.

You braced yourself. Tonight was gonna be a long night and you were ready for it.

#Florian Munteanu #Florian x reader #Florian Munteanu x reader #Big Nasty #Smut #frizzle 2k celebration #bad bitch challenge #Lotusss Writes

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plaidbooks · 4 years ago

Text

Dating Pains

A/N: So! I was looking through some old files and found this Sonny Carisi x reader story I wrote in September that I had completely forgotten about! After reading through it, I figured “this is actually pretty good, I can post that” so here’s part one of four(?).

Tags: mentions of rape, mentions of murder, attempted drugging

Words: 3026

Taglist: @the-baby-bookworm @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @infiniteoddball @ben-c-group-therapy @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @reading--mermaid @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles

You puckered your lips, painting them with the bright red lipstick that you loved. You smacked your lips a couple times, smiling at your own reflection. You were in comfortable jeans that hugged your ass perfectly, and a loose shirt, the sleeves draped around your upper arms rather than your shoulders, bright red and orange flowers on the black material. Your makeup was simple, neutral, except for the lipstick—but you couldn’t help yourself, you loved the color.

It was a first date, and you didn’t want to over-do it by over-dressing. Besides, it was a first date with this guy, and you were running out of cute, clean clothes. But it was your third “first date” in two weeks; your friends had set up a Tinder account for you and had been forcing you to go out on these dates. At first, you were reluctant, unwilling to stoop so low as to use an app to find love. But, after about a month of trying it the “old fashioned way,”—you at bars and clubs, striking out over and over again—you gave in to their insistence. Though, most of the guys on Tinder only wanted hookups, and you wanted something, well, more. You were looking for love, as cliché as that was, and that was something your friends loved to tease you about.

“You can wait around and find love whenever, but why pass up a chance to get laid?” one of your friends asked. You had blushed and tried to fumble through an excuse about why you didn’t want a hookup, why you wanted a real relationship. It wasn’t like you were necessarily against having a one-night stand, but it just wasn’t what you were looking for.

It took weeks and a lot of weeding through shitty profiles and messages until you found at least someone that seemed interesting. Your first date was alright; he seemed nice, polite but there just wasn’t a connection there. You both agreed that there shouldn’t be a second date. The second man was a real estate agent. He was once divorced, from his high school sweetheart, lived on Staten Island, had finished paying off his college debt, and was debating going back for a BS in Computer Science since that’s where the real money was. You knew all about his family life, too, because never once did he stop talking about himself. When he asked for a second date, you politely declined. Then again, and again, until you finally had to block him. If you didn’t already have this third “first date” set up, you would’ve given up on Tinder entirely.

Looking yourself over once more, you headed out the door and towards the bar that you were meeting the man at, nervous butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You had made sure you took screenshots of the man’s profile and messages, sent a picture of his profile picture to your friends, and told them where you were going. You were positive that serial killers didn’t use Tinder, but it was always better to be safe.

You made it to the bar and scanned the faces in the cramped space. Your date, Jerry, had said that he would be wearing a navy-blue polo shirt and black slacks, not that the dim lighting in the bar would help you tell the difference between the two colors. Your eyes did a full scan, not seeing anyone that looked familiar; maybe he was running late? Sure enough, you felt your phone vibrate, a message from Jerry saying that he was running behind and would be there in 5 minutes. Shrugging to yourself, you made your way to the bar, ordering a sprite and finding an open table. Being late wasn’t a deal-breaker for you, and at least he had messaged you.

You let your eyes wander through the crowd, people watching, and, if you were being honest with yourself, looking for anyone that looked attractive and hopefully alone…just in case this Jerry-guy didn’t work out. There were a couple of cute guys in the bar, but all of them seemed to be with someone, whether friends or with a girlfriend. Your eyes did settle on one man, though; he was tall, even when sitting, his hair carefully slicked back. In the dim bar lighting, it was impossible to tell if his hair was grey, blonde, or a light brown. He was in a blue, button-up shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a black striped tie, and a suit jacket was on the back of his chair. He had a beer in his hand, his long fingers wrapped around the dark bottle, with his head thrown back in laughter at something that one of the two women he was with said. One of the women was older, with long brown hair, who exuded command, even though she was also chuckling. The other woman was younger, closer to your age, with blonde hair that was tied back, beer in her hand and obviously the one cracking the jokes.

You looked away as you saw someone approaching your table out of the corner of your eye, smiling as you saw that it was Jerry—at least he matched his profile picture. You stood, giving him a polite hug, before you both sat. A waitress came up and took Jerry’s order, in which he also insisted you got a drink, too, to help loosen you both up. Not wanting to appear rude, you agreed; one drink wouldn’t make you drunk.

It took you about 5 minutes to realize that Jerry was the same, if not worse, than your last date was. He was incredibly full of himself, talking about how women just “didn’t get him” and how he was only on Tinder because he was “too busy” to actually go out and meet people. You were about to excuse yourself to the bathroom, planning to have a friend come save you, when he got up himself to go. While he was gone, you seriously contemplated leaving, but you couldn’t—you weren’t that mean. But you did instantly forget about texting a friend for help. Instead, your eyes travelled back over to the cute man with the slicked-back hair. You were shocked when you saw his bright blue eyes watching you. He quickly turned away, as did you, your cheeks flushing hot. You were too afraid to look back over, your face still feeling warm…warmer than a normal blush. You were looking hard at the table in front of you when you noticed that it was moving. Confused, you put your hand out to rest on it; it definitely wasn’t moving, but now the room looked like it was moving, shifting, and you felt like your skin was on fire now.

You stood suddenly, and almost went right back down. There was no way you were drunk, so what the hell was happening? You took a couple of stuttering steps before you felt hands on you, an arm wrapping around your waist, a hand on your shoulder, helping you up.

“You okay, honey?” Jerry asked, his fake, honey-covered voice concerned.

Your mouth moved, but you couldn’t form words. It was becoming hard to keep your eyes open, and you felt sweat forming on your forehead. You vaguely noticed him guiding you towards the door, out of the bar. Suddenly, a shadow was looming over you. You looked up, squinting at the figure above you. All you saw was slicked-back hair, and bright blue eyes, full of concern and a quiet rage.

“Sorry, man. My girlfriend just had a few too many,” Jerry was saying, trying to laugh it off. Something clicked in your sluggish brain. This is wrong, you thought, but your body wasn’t reacting to your mind. Without knowing what you were doing, you reached towards the tall, lanky man in front of you, who was now speaking harshly to Jerry. But you couldn’t understand the words. Your mind was fading fast, darkness coming to meet you.

You gathered all the strength you had left, and whispered into the loud, over-packed bar, “help me,” before the darkness overtook you.

**********************

You woke up in a soft bed, sheets pulled up to your chest, the soft whirring of machinery around you. You squinted against the harsh light as you opened your eyes, the fluorescent lights blinding you slightly. You groaned and pushed yourself up, your head pounding and your throat dry. You froze; you were obviously in the hospital, but you had no memory of getting there, or why you were there in the first place. You took mental stock of your body; besides a splitting headache, you felt fine. So why were you there?

“Oh, you’re awake! How are you feeling?” a soft voice asked. You looked over and saw a nurse coming into your room, clipboard in hand. She didn’t wait for you to answer as she started playing with the machinery you were hooked up to.

“I-I’m alright,” you rasped, throat completely dry. She wordlessly poured you a glass of water on your side table and handed it to you. You gratefully took a sip, wetting your throat. “Head hurts, though.”

The nurse nodded as she took the glass back. “That’s normal.”

You cocked an eyebrow in confusion. “Normal for what? Why am I here?”

The nurse seemed surprised for a moment before she realized. “Oh, of course you don’t remember. You were drugged last night; roofied.” Your heart sunk. You were roofied? How? You never left your drink unattended; how did someone sneak it in? And does that mean…? The nurse had continued talking, but you tuned out, mind and heart racing. She concluded with a little cup of pills for you to take, and now your heart really sunk. You knew that doctors gave women the morning after pill, as well as anti-STD pills after being assaulted. So, that must have happened to you, too, right? And you remembered none of it. Was it better that way?

“Are you alright, Ms. [Y/L/N]?” the nurse asked, looking at how you regarded the cup of pills. “It’s just eletriptan…for your headache?”

“Just—just headache pills?” you asked. The nurse smiled, nodding.

“Yes, just headache pills.” As she was heading out the door, she added, “oh! There were two SVU detectives here to see you. Can I let them in?”

Confused as to why two detectives wanted to talk to you, you nodded absentmindedly, taking the pills and downing them with a gulp of water. You had only a moment to think about it—SVU? Were you a Special Victim, even if you weren’t assaulted?—before they entered. The first detective that came in looked vaguely familiar; a young woman with her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. The second detective, though, made you pause. You had definitely seen him before, but you couldn’t place him. Tall, lanky, slicked-back, dirty blonde hair, and bright blue eyes that pierced into yours with some sort of…guilt? Pity? It was hard to tell what was there.

“Have we met before?” you blurted, unable to stop yourself. The expression in the man’s face intensified for the briefest moment before it was replaced with a cool professionalism.

“Uh, kinda,” the woman replied. “I’m Detective Rollins, and this is Detective Carisi. We met at the bar last night.” You thought about this, trying to will your still-aching mind to remember the events from the past night, but there was nothing there.

“Do you happen to remember anything from last night?” Carisi asked. “I mean, if you remember meeting us, maybe you remember more?”

You tried to go back through what you did remember from yesterday; getting lunch with friends, getting dressed for a date, putting on your favorite lipstick, then…nothing. Flashes of music and lights from the bar, but nothing more.

“I…don’t really remember much…. Do—do you know what happened to me? I—I remember leaving my house to meet a date, but then it’s all fuzzy—” you scrunched your eyes closed, trying to force your mind to work correctly.

“Hey, don’t hurt yourself. It’s normal to not remember after being roofied,” Rollins explained. “It may come back to you in the next couple days, and it may not. Do you remember who you were going on a date with?”

You sat for a moment before you remembered. “Oh! Where’s my phone? It was some dude on Tinder—I saved screenshots of his profile.” You found your purse on the side table next to you and dug until you found your phone. You ignored the texts and missed calls from your friends, probably freaking out since you haven’t contacted them yet, and pulled up the pictures. “I went on a date with Jerry last night,” you said, showing the pictures to the detectives.

“This is perfect, definitely enough for a warrant,” Carisi replied, smirking and giving you an impressed glance. You felt the blush crossing your cheeks and fidgeted uncomfortably. “Can you text me those pictures?”

You agreed and he gave you his number. You tried to ignore the fact that you now had his personal cell phone number as you sent the photos to him, your stomach flip-flopping.

“Is it alright if we talk to you in a couple days? See if you remember anything?” Rollins asked, already making her way to the door.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” you said, watching them leave. Carisi gave you a small smile before he made it to the door. “Wait!” you called out, making him stop. Carisi stood in the doorway, brow furrowed as he looked at you. “Can you please tell me what the hell happened last night? Even if you only found me somewhere—I just, I need to know something. Was I…was I attacked--?”

Carisi’s eyes filled with a sadness; he was obviously upset that you couldn’t remember anything. He turned to look out the door. “You go on to Barba’s, get the warrant. I’ll meet up with you,” he said to his partner before coming back into the room. He pulled over the visitor chair and sat down next to your bed.

“I’ll tell you all I know; I was at the bar with my Lieutenant and Rollins after work when I looked over and saw you sitting there with Jerry. Now, Jerry looked like a suspect from a case I was working a couple months back. So, I was keeping an eye on ya, just in case.” He paused for a moment, looking slightly embarrassed that he admitted watching you, but all you were feeling right now was appreciation that someone had your back. Thank god he was there, had noticed something. “When you stood up, I knew something was wrong; you were swaying and looking like you were about to pass out. I told my Lieu, and we were coming over to make sure you were alright when Jerry came back. He was trying to tell us you were drunk, and he was going take you home. Right then, you collapsed, asking for help. My Lieu arrested Jerry right there, and Rollins and I brought ya here. But we couldn’t hold him, and we couldn’t prove he was the one to drug you. But, with your screenshots, hopefully we can check his place, find roofies in his possession.”

You sat there, dumbfounded with how incredibly lucky you had been that three NYPD detectives were there when you were drugged, and how bad it could’ve ended for you if they weren’t.

“Thank you, so much, Detective Carisi,” you managed, trying to think of something else to say.

“Please, call me Sonny,” he replied, smiling. You felt yourself melting at that smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling, though, concern was still deep in his expression. Then, a thought struck you.

“That case you were working on a month ago, that Jerry matched the description for. What did he do?”

Sonny suddenly seemed uncomfortable, unwilling to talk, considering how lengthy of a description he just gave you from the previous night. That wasn’t a good sign.

“We, uh, we were investigatin’ a man who would roofie a woman, then rape her and leave her…dead body in her own bed. The only connection he had to the victims were that they used Tinder. But he would delete his account before we could find it. All we had was security footage and some eyewitness accounts of the man.”

Your heart started beating faster at the words “dead body.” If Jerry was indeed this man, then you almost died last night. You didn’t quite know how to process that.

You were staring at the bright white of your bedsheets when you heard Sonny ask, “[Y/N], are you alright?” He dipped his head down, trying to get in your line of sight. You snapped out of your thoughts, looking up to him.

“I—yeah, I just…I almost died?” your throat constricted on the last word. You felt hot tears in your eyes, and you blinked fast, trying to not let them fall. You really didn’t want to cry in front of this man, and not just because he was cute; you didn’t want to have a full breakdown in front of someone you didn’t know.

“Hey, it’s okay, you’re safe now. ‘Sides, we don’t know for sure if Jerry’s our guy, or just some predator. Either way, we’ll get him, I promise you.” Sonny gave you another heart melting smile, before he stood up. “You have my number if ya need to talk, okay? Don’t be afraid to shoot me a text.”

You smiled as he left, shutting the door softly behind him. You already wanted to text him, but to ask him out to coffee, not to help you through your shock. But you also didn’t think that that was very appropriate, asking an SVU detective out after he saved you from being assaulted. Besides, your mind was reeling from the past 24 hours. First thing’s first, better text all your friends and let them know you were alive and unharmed. And then you were definitely deleting Tinder.

#sonny carisi x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic #fanfic #my writing #it's like a gift from past me

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