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marvellous1917 · 9 months

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Icarus Falling

(Part 2)

Pairing: mob!Bucky x female!tattoo artist!reader

Summary: It’s gonna be a busy day. Giving a tattoo to a mobster that broke into your home was nothing compared to the fact that you can’t stop thing about how fucking hot he is.

Warnings: lots and lots of swearing, mention of crime (duh), fights, broken bones, tattoo needles, threats, think that’s it.

Part one ⬇️:

A/N: AAHHHH the response to part one was actually insane!!!! I hope this second part is good enough. Love u all <3

———————

Bold is reader’s thoughts.

Italics is Bucky’s thoughts.

The size of the tattoo is in inches.

———————

Walking to the shop, your thoughts were running a mile a minute. Holy fuck, what the fuck, did last night actually happen?, James Barnes is gorgeous and made falling asleep last night really fucking difficult, screw him for making me all hot and bothered. Asshole. But one persistent one came screaming to the front- how the fuck am I supposed to tell Frank?

Unfortunately there was not a lot of time to come up with an answer to that, the shopfront coming into view as you turn the corner. Jigsaw Ink stood proud in the middle of the busy Brooklyn street, the black paint of the walls in stark contrast to the pastel pink of the florists’ to one side and the baby blue of the cafe the other.

The shop was a second home to you, the couch at the front becoming a bed for you sometimes after a night out, or if Caleb was being an ass. Frank was nice enough to let you crash when you needed, trusting you with his business. Frank, and the other two artists at the shop, Billy and Curtis were like family - a weird combination of protective older brothers and best friends who were terribly bad influences on you.

The bell on the door rang when you opened it and there was a yelled “Y/N? That you?” from a deep voice at the back of the room.

“Yeah Frankie, it’s me. I thought Billy was supposed to be here, not you?” You yelled back, moving behind the counter toward your station, dropping your bag and taking off your jacket.

“He was, but he managed to get his ass knocked out last night so he’s taking the day off,” Frank replied laughing, walking out from the back towards you.

“What? Is he ok?” You ask, giving Frank a hug when he got closer.

“Managed to piss somebody off at a bar, not really sure what happened, but he’s fine. Just stupid,” he replied, patting your back as you release him.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love the guy but he is an idiot I swear, you can guarantee it was his fault as well,” you say.

Frank chuckle and nods as a response, “yeah I bet. Hey , you got many appointments today?” He asks.

Shit. How the fuck am I supposed to tell Frank Castle - literally the most protective man on earth - that I had to move all of my appointments to next week because a damn mobster broke into my house and demanded I gave him a tattoo today.

“…uh. No just the one, I had to move the rest,” you answer, praying to whoever was listening that Frank wouldn’t ask any questions.

“Why’s that?”

Fuucckkkk.

“Umm..no reason really..” your mind went completely blank, the only thing running through you head were those goddamn blue eyes.

“Kid, what’s going on?” Franks’ eyes narrowing, seeing straight through your bullshit response.

Ughhh. Change the subject right now. “Y’know you call me kid all the time, you’re not that much older than me Frankie. I mean there’s only-”.

“You’re ramblin’ kid. The fuck is going on?” He says, all sense of humor him from his voice.

Ah, there his is, protective Frankie coming in full force.

“Shit. Ok so here’s what happened-” you tell him the full story, coming home from work to see a dangerous criminal chilling in your apartment, the fear that came with that lovely surprise, Caleb’s debt, the weird philosophical conversation, the tattoo talk. All of it.

Of course, excluding the part where you found yourself extremely attracted to the fucking mobster, his weirdly slightly comforting presence, and the fact that the memory of those blue eyes where all you could see as your hand slipped between your legs before you fell asleep.

To be fair to the man, Frank listened to every word you had to say, not interrupting one. But you could see on his face every single emotion he was feeling, the main one being just straight up confusion.

“Lemme get this straight. The fucking Winter Soldier broke into your house last night and is coming in for a tattoo in..” he checked his watch as he spoke, “..an hour?”

“..yeah.” Hit the nail on the head there Frankie.

“Shit.” He says, rubbing his hand over his face in an act of desperation.

“Yep.” You say, patting his arm to try and reassure him.

“Alright, I’m gonna be here the whole time, don’t you worry about that kid. You’re gonna be fine.” He assures you, obviously worried about you.

“I know that Frankie, and if it’s any consolation, he didn’t seem all that bad.” You answer.

“Not that bad?!” He almost shouts, and incredulous look on his face, “Y/N he’s a fucking gangster. He’s fucking danger-“

“FRANK!” You yell, the only way to cut off his tirade before it starts. “I know that, but last night he didn’t do anything bad,okay, and if he wanted to hurt me, he definitely would have done it by now. I’ll be fine Frank, I’ll just give him the tattoo and that will be it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I gotta set everything up.” You say, moving back to your station, beginning to grab everything you need.

“Holy fuck kid, how are you not freaking the fuck out right now?” He whisper shouts, running one hand up and down his head.

“I’m not sure. I think…I think I trust him not to hurt me. It’s weird, but my gut’s telling me I’ll be fine.” You answer, starting to print some different sized stencils.

“Kid your brain is brok-” Frank starts to say but he’s cut off by his phone ringing. He pulls it from his pocket and says “Shit, it’s my kids’ school, I gotta take it.”

You wave him off, Frank answers the phone with a sigh.

He walks off to the back of the shop, leaving you to finish setting up your station. Frank talks for a minute and wander back towards you.

“My girl got into a fight at school, Maria’s busy at work so I’ve got to go get her,” he says, dragging his hands down his face, in a way only an exasperated father could.

“Oh my god is she ok?” You ask.

“She’s fine, but apparently she broke some little shitheads nose for picking on her friends,”

“Like father, like daughter then,” you respond with a laugh.

“Can the people I care about stop getting themselves in dangerous situations for like five goddamn seconds.” Frank says, throwing a pointed glare your way.

“Frankie, how many times, I’m gonna be fine alright, go get your kid and -I dunno- take her out for ice cream, tell her she did good.” You say, pushing him to the door.

“Only if you’re one hundred percent certain you’ll be fine.” He says, already pulling his jacket from the hook.

“I’m good I swear, now go!”

“Ok ok I’m going, stop pushing me” he says, leaving the shop and letting the door fall closed behind him, the bell ringing as it did.

Only a minute passed before your phone pinged with a text.

James:

Have you already forgotten about me that quickly doll?

Send me the address to the shop

Now… please

Fuck me. Why does just his text give me fucking butterflies. Ugh. How irritating.

You send him the address and his response is cheeky as shit.

James:

See you at 1 doll, you better be wearing something pretty for me.

Little shit.

————

You had the music in the shop bumping, using it to help calm your pounding heart, adrenaline starting to get the best of you. Your favourite song came over the speakers so you turned it up and started to dance a little, knowing that you had at least 10 minutes before Barnes turned up. Unfortunately this action caused you to miss the ringing of the bell on the door.

Holy shit - ink and a show, today is going better than expected already.

Bucky slowly let the door close, trying not to disturb the dancing girl he couldn’t get out of his head. He lent against the wall, just watching and waiting…and staring.

Shaking out your hands to get rid of any nerves, you turn and nearly scream when you see Barnes stood at the door.

“Oh god, sorry I didn’t hear you come in,” you say, subtly looking him up and down and damn he looks good. Ever the powerful mobster, he wore a black suit, his black shirt had no tie and was unbuttoned at the top. His hair was slicked back from his face, opposite to how it was the night before. This was the other side of him, the business man - James Barnes: the face of multiple charities, the man that law enforcement could never seem to put behind bars. Last night you met the threat, the assassin, and you may be one of the first in his history to survive a meeting with the Soldier.

“No problem doll, I was enjoying the show,” he says, pushing off of the wall and stalking towards you.

Oh my god, “oh..ok, well I have everything set up and ready so if you’re ok to start I say let get going,” you respond, turning to the part of the shop where your station was, nerves flooding back, wanting to get this over as soon as possible.

“Damn girl, not even any small talk?” He asks, slowly following you to the table.

“Oh sorry, I would have asked how your day has been so far, but I didn’t want you to think I was prying into your business. I wouldn’t want you to think I was being disrespectful ab-”

“Ramblin’ again doll, thought I told you that you don’t need to be afraid of me,” he said softly, sounding genuine. “I know what people say about me, I understand why you would be nervous, but I just ask you to not believe everything you hear, ok doll? I’m not who they say I am.” His tone was gentle, almost tired but still pleading, hoping you believe him.

“So you’re not a mobster?” You ask, voice low and calm.

“Oh no I am,” he responds with a small laugh, “I am, and I do what gangsters do. But I am not the ruthless animal I’m made out to be, doll I’m just not. I do what needs to be done.”

His voice breaks slightly on the pet name. His tone is so sincere and tired. Oh my..he’s telling the truth. It actually affects him to hear that about himself.

“Ok,” you respond, siting on your stool next to your station and the table, looking up at him with no fear in your eyes, trusting his words.

“Ok? That’s your response?” He asks, moving around the table to sit on it directly in-front of you.

“Yeah. What did you want me to do Barnes, not believe you?” You ask, all fear gone from your voice.

“Of course not,” he says, confusion laced in his voice, his eyebrows furrowed, “but I wasn’t expecting you to believe me immediately, shit you were scared of me like a minute ago.”

“I know but I think I trust you? You haven’t done anything to me, y’know other than breaking into my apartment. I trust you when you say you’re not someone I should be afraid of.” You answer truthfully.

“…good.” He says, at a loss of what to say next.

“Good. So, Barnes, are we doing this or what?” You ask.

“Yeah let’s do it doll, and please, call me Bucky.” He responds, shrugging off his jacket, folding it and placing it on the head of the table. You had to make a conscious effort to not stare at the way his arms filled out his shirt, but damn it was hard. He sat silently waiting for you to talk.

“Ok..Bucky.. tell me about what size and what placement you want for this.” You say, “I printed some sizes out because I wasn’t sure what size you wanted, and I can reprint or adjust it based in what you want.”

“Oh you a real professional, huh? Not gonna lie to you doll, that serious voice is kinda getting me goin’” he says, smirk on his face, leaning back on his arms, lifting his hips and moving slightly on the table.

Fuck me, what is this man doing to me? He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he’s talking again.

“I want to get it on my forearm, the inside, and I think that size looks good,” he says, pointing to the 10x8 you printed.

“Ok that sounds good, which arm were you thinking?”

Silence. He stares down at you, an unreadable look on his face. You break eye contact and then freeze.

Shit. Shit. You dumbass. Which arm? Which fucking arm? Are you kidding? I can literally see his metal fucking hand. Oh dear god.

The silence between you goes on for entirely too long. You’re not sure whether you should apologise or wait for him to speak first. You weren’t sure if he would be offended, having a reminder of his injury.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, just continues to stare down at you, that blank look on his face. Looking back up at him, you start to apologise but the words get caught in your throat. His eyes. He couldn’t control them the same way he did his face, tons of different emotions flowing through them, none lasting long enough for you to understand before another one took its place.

If only you knew what he was actually thinking. She asked which arm. She knows about my arm, everyone does, but she still asked. She forgot. The arm is all people see, a weapon, an instrument used to inflict nothing but pain. It’s all people see, but she forgot. That’s not what she sees. Maybe…maybe she just sees me.

He’s shuts his racing thoughts down, fully aware of how awkward the silence was becoming. “I’m thinking my right arm might be a little easier for you doll,” he says, an amused look crossing his face, his tongue poking his cheek.

You open your mouth to apologise for your mistake but he holds up his right hand and says, “and please, you don’t have to apologise like I know you’re going to, we’re all good darlin’.”.

He��s gotta stop with the pet names before I melt.

“Ok, uh, are you sure, because I honestly meant no disrespect or anything. I-,” you start, but Bucky cut you off quickly.

“Darlin’, what did I just say?” A stern tone coats his words and goddamn does it send a shiver down your spine. You internally roll your eyes and look away, back to your station, when you feel two warm fingers on your jaw, turning your head back to looks at him. Holy fuck. He places his thumb on the other side of your jaw, forcing you to keep looking at him as he leans in closer. His voice was low when he said, “That wasn’t a rhetorical question, Y/N, what did I just say?”

Jesus fucking wept. Somehow his use of your name made your heart pound, and the fact that his hand was so warm and strong holding onto your face.

“You said we’re all good..” you answer trailing off at the end of your sentence. His eyes don’t move from yours for a second.

“And?” He asks, tilting his head slightly.

Christ alive.

“I don’t have to apologise..” you say, eyes flicking between his and falling to his lips for a second and then back to his eyes.

“That’s right darlin’,” his eyes dropped to your lips, his tongue darting out to wet his lip. “So stop, okay?” He says, lifting your chin to catch your eye.

“Yes sir.” It’s an automatic response but you can’t help but be a little proud of yourself when he lets out a small throaty growl at the name.

“Careful doll.” He responds, letting go and leaning back, “How about we get started before I do something you regret, hmm?”

Like I could regret you.

You turn back to your station to try and clear your head of all the dirty thoughts running wild. “Ok.. Bucky, if you could roll up your sleeve so I can wipe the area, I’ll place the stencil and you can check if it’s where you want it to be.” You say, not used to the name he said to call him by.

“Mhm,” he hums, releasing the cuff link on his right sleeve, his prosthetic catching the glare of the light above, the plates shining. He places the cuff link in the pocket of his jacket and begins rolling up his sleeve and folds it at his elbow.

You clean the area and place the stencil straight on his arm, and peel it off.

“There’s a mirror on the wall over there, you can check if it’s alright.” You say.

“Okie dokie doll,” he responded the furrowed his brows, like he was confused at why he said that, not very gangster of him.

I like him. He says okie dokie.

“Looks good there darlin’, and as much as I hate to say it, we gotta speed this up a little, I’m expecting a call at some point around 2:30 and I’d prefer you not have to hear it.” He says, coming back to the table, sitting down and swinging his legs up onto it.

You take his arm, putting it on the rest in a position easiest for tattooing while saying “Why’s that? Would you have to kill me if I overheard your call?” You ask, enough humor in your voice for him to know you’re joking.

“Probably, depends how much you hear.” He said, completely deadpan. He looks at you and you have the strangest feeling that he actually wouldn’t hurt you either way.

“Shit ok. Is that position comfortable for you?”

“I’m all good darlin’, let’s go,” he says, adjusting his position on the table slightly. His left arm rests across his stomach as he sits on the table, leaning against the backrest, his ankles crossed.

“Ok I’m gonna do a small line so you know how it feels,” you look at him and he nods. You draw a line about 2 centimetres long then stop, “how’s that?” You ask.

“Ain’t nothin’ doll, keep goin’.” He responds.

“Ok here we go.” You say, getting back to it.

————

You’ve been tattooing for about 40 minutes, and there hasn’t been a word spoken between the both of you. His arm kept flexing whenever you moved away, and he kept clenching his jaw, like he was in pain but was refusing to admit it, even to himself.

“Are you ok? We can stop for five if you want a break? I’ve just finished the outline so I’ve got to change needles anyway.” You ask, disrupting the silence between you, moving the machine away from his arm so you can switch to a higher grouping for the blackwork.

“I’m fine Y/N, how much longer do you think it’ll take?” He asks, moving his head to look at the outline that you had completed.

“Oh it’s hard to say, but probably another 30 at least,” you respond, looking at him while he was admiring the tattoo so far.

God he’s pretty.

“Shit.” He says, rubbing his forehead with his other hand.

“Are you worried about your call?” You ask calmly.

“Not worried about the call itself… just having to do it here may cause some issues.” He responds, lowering his hand to his thigh.

“Because I’m here? I can go to a different room if you want?” You say, placing the machine back on your station, and turning to look at him fully.

“It’s ok doll, to be honest with you, nothing that needs to be said will make any sense to you anyway, and I mean that in the least offensive way possible.” He says, looking at you with apologetic face, tilting his head slightly. “But depending on the news I get, I wouldn’t want my reaction to… scare you.”

“Oh.. well I guess we’ll see when your call comes.” You answer, unsure of how to react to that.

————

The sharp ringing of his phone interrupts the sounds of the machine. You move the machine away from him, turning it off so he could speak freely without noise.

“I really am sorry about this darlin’, but it’s important-”

“Answer it then, it’s fine Bucky.” You cut him off, concerned he was going to miss it if he kept talking.

He gave you another apologetic look, and then turned his back to you to get off the table and answer the call.

You sat in silence as he started to speak.

“Rogers, what did ya find?” His voice changes from how he speaks to you, deeper and more serious.

The person on the other line speaks for a moment before Bucky responds, “we already knew that, didn’t we? What new information did you find?”

Silence.

“Of course he is..,” there is anger in his tone now, “get someone to tell the asshole he can threaten what he likes, I’m not sitting down with him.”

A moment goes by and you think that may have been the end of it, until you see his shoulders tense and-

“FUCK NO!” He shouts, making you jump a little.

“No Rumlow Gets Nothing, I don’t give a shit what he’s doing… Then send the commissioner a goddam gift basket Steve, some portraits of his family would be nice, remind him why he pays us the fucking protection fee.” He seethes at the man down the phone.

This should not be turning me on, shit.

“For fucks sake… Walker is nothing Steve, just some fucking Nazi junkie with a rich daddy, trying to get his hands on my shit…get Nat to bring his ass in, I’ll deal with it Steve… I said I’d deal with it.”

His tone on the last sentence sends a shiver down your spine, what the fuck does ‘deal with it’ mean?

“Ah shit is he ok?” Bucky asks, tone soft now, caring even, “Damn, he’s gonna be out for blood now.. good for him.. give Clint the week off, find the guys and give the pricks to him, let him get out some of his pent up craziness out.”

Oh Clint sounds fun.

“Ok, alright I gotta go now man. Yeah I’m at the shop… nah it’s nothing..yeah ya did… ok fuck off now.. later man.”

He hangs up the phone, takes a death breath and pinches the place between his eyebrows, his other hand going to his hip. He stands like that before he turns back to you, with a small awkward smile. That was cute.

“Sorry about that doll, hope I didn’t upset ya,” he says, walking around the table and looking down at you.

“You didn’t. I gotta ask though, is your friend or whoever ok?” You ask, not bringing up the start of the call where the man in-front of you all but admitted to a multitude of crimes - blackmail, extortion, supplying drugs. He sounded different- genuine when he asked if the man was ok. It was sweet.

“Clint? Yeah no he’s fine, got jumped last night so he’s pissed about it, but he’s ok, worst thing he got were some nasty bruises and a broken finger.” Bucky responds, confusion on his face, wondering why you care.

“How did he break a finger?” you ask, moving backwards as he sits back on the table.

“Oh he didn’t go down without a fight, clocked one of them on his way out,” he says with a small chuckle.

“Ah, good for crazy Clint,” you say with a smile.

Bucky let’s out a sharp quick laugh, “that exactly what I thought doll,” he says, leaning back and putting his arm on the rest, “ready when you are.” He adds.

Ok right back to it. Got it boss.

“Ok, should only be about 10 more minutes.” You say.

“Alright doll.” He answers, leaning his head back on the rest, tilting his head so he could watch you.

Ten minutes later you were finished, putting your machine down for the final time.

“Okie dokie, I’m all done. Have a look in the mirror, see what ya think,” you say, hoping he liked it, not much you could do about it if he didn’t.

He moves over to the mirror, checking out his new ink, twisting his arm around to see it fully. He’s silent for a little while before he says, “fuck doll, you’re a damn artist.”

“Does that mean you like it?” You ask, failing to hide the hope in your voice.

“I love it. Couldn’t have asked for a better one for my first piece.” He says, walking forwards to stand in-front of you, letting you wrap the fresh tattoo, handing him a leaflet on aftercare as you talk.

“You’re shitting me,” you say, “was that seriously your first one?”

“Yeah, why are you so surprised darlin?” He responds, tilting his head.

“I don’t know, just sorta thought you’d have them all over.” You answer.

“All over, huh. You been thinking about me naked doll?” He says with a cheeky grin, talking half a step closer to you.

Shit.

“What, n-no of course not, why would I do that. I mean I’m sure you look good - uh fine.. naked but I don’t-” you cut yourself off before you embarrass yourself anymore.

“No, no ramble on Y/N please, I’m really enjoying watching you try to figure your way out of the grave you’re digging right now,” he says, chucking lightly.

“Shut up Bucky, leave me alone” you responds, looking down at your feet.

“Hey,” he grabs your chin, again, and add pressure until you’re looking up at his eyes, “don’t ever try and tell me what to do, darlin, I don’t tend to respond well to it. I won’t ‘shut up’ and I’ll never ‘leave you alone’… I like ya too much for that.” He says, sounding like a mix between a threat and a compliment.

“Uh.. okay.” You answer, not sure how to respond to his words.

He can tell that you don’t know what to say, so he mercifully breaks the silence. “I love the tattoo doll, it’s looks amazing. You’ve got a talent Y/N.” He drops his hand from your chin as he speaks.

“Thank you, Bucky. It means a lot.” You answer sincerely.

“How much do I owe you sweetheart?” He asks, reaching into his jacket for his wallet.

That’s a new one.

“Uh, say $180?” You respond.

“$180? Damn you gotta charge more than that doll,” he says pulling some bills from his wallet.

He hands you the bills and says “now that’s for today and it should cover next time too, take half for now and half for then.”

You’re stunned by the fact that he’s already planning for next time but your jaw actually drops when you look at the bills.

They were hundreds.

“Woah I think you gave me the wrong bills,” you say, trying to push the bills back in his hands.

“No I didn’t, I know what I gave you. $180 for today, say $200 for next time and the rest is tip.” He answers smoothly, folding your hand back over the bills.

You look down to count and start shaking your head, “I can’t accept this, it’s way too much.”

“Consider it a thank you for dealing with the inconvenience of me having to do business in the middle of the appointment.” He says with a smile.

“Bucky this is 2000 dollars.”

“I know.” He puts up his hand again, stopping you from talking, “I’m not taking it back doll, just have it will ya?” He says, rolling his sleeve back down, doing the cuff back up with the cufflink and placing his jacket back on.

“Oh my god, you’re serious aren’t you?” You ask, unbelievable he wanted you to have over fifteen hundred dollars as tip.

“Yes I am.” He answers, straightening his jacket, “it also may be a small bribe.”

There it is.

“A bribe for what?” You ask, expecting his to ask you to keep quiet about his call.

“I want you to be my artist, anytime I want a tattoo, I want you doing it for me.” He says, smiling down at you with a hint of…something him his eye.

“Really?” You ask in shock, not expecting that from him.

“Yeah, like I said earlier, you got talent. I want more of you on me.” Bucky says smirking at the euphemism he made.

Fuck me running.

“Oh..shit.. yeah ok, that sounds..,” you swallow heavily, “sounds like a plan.” You smile up at him, trying to hide the way his words affected you.

He smiles back, stepping closer and closer until his chest is almost touching yours.

“Yes it’s does. You’re mine now doll,” he says, a dark look in his eye. You swallow hard again and your breath stutters at his words, eyes going straight to the floor. He notices your reaction and smirks, “my artist, I mean.” He continued.

“Although, judging by your little reaction there, I’d bet you be ok with that, wouldn’t you doll?” He says, his tone slightly mocking.

You say nothing.

He hums, then places his right hand on your cheek and tilts your head so you’re looking him in the eye again.

“Would you?” He asks softly.

“Maybe,” you whisper, a cocky smile breaking out on his face.

“Maybe, huh? ‘Mkay, guess I’ll just have to convince you then doll.” He says back, leaning closer, eyes going to your lips before he looks back up, giving you a chance to get out of the situation.

“Guess so.” You respond, some confidence back in your voice.

He hums again, and then he’s kissing you. His kiss is forceful but somehow still gentle, like he’s holding back as much as he can.

Fucking finally you can’t help but think as you move your hand to his wrist, the other one going to his left bicep, the feel of the solid metal under your hand was new, but not unwelcome.

His metal hand moves, wrapping around your back and pulling you against him, deepening the kiss when you gasp.

Reluctantly, you break the kiss when you run out of air. He leans back, the pressure on your back relieving a bit.

“Damn doll, what the fuck are you doing to me?” He asks, biting his bottom lip.

“Something good, hopefully.” You respond cheekily.

He groans, leaning his head back. “Yeah hopefully darlin’. I hate to say it sweetheart but I gotta get going.” He says, releasing his hold on you. He moves towards the door and for a second you think he going to leave without another word, until he turns back and says “I’ll talk to you later doll, keep your phone on or I’ll drop by.” He finished his sentence with a wink, and then he’s gone, the bell on the door ringing behind him.

Fuucckk. Maybe I’ll break my phone so he has to come by. Who knew the fucking Winter Soldier was actually a gorgeous softie under it all.

————

A/N: Ta da! Finally complete!! Love everyone of you that read this, mwah 😘

I can’t tag anyone else on this post so I will tag the rest in a separate post.

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#bucky x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #mob!bucky #mob!au #tattoo artist!reader

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dyaz-stories · 5 months

Text

in a world of boys, he's a gentleman || Park Chan-Young x f!Reader

summary: Yeong-Su breaks a window at the stadium, and Chan-Young takes the blame for it, resulting in severe consequences. Fortunately, you're here to pick up the pieces afterwards.

word count: 3.1k

warnings & tags: spoilers for season 2 of sweet home, violence, injuries, soldiers being assholes, coarse language, making out, the pronoun "she" is used in reference to the reader

A/N: couldn't find gifs for chan-young so I made this one, but I'm by no means a gif maker, so, yeah. Also, I don't know anything about baseball, so please pretend this makes sense if you know better. I'm not sure which team Chan-Young was supposed to be on, so I picked the Doosan Bears because Sweet Home takes place in Seoul. Finally, it's my first time writing for him, so I hope you'll enjoy my take on this character!

It’s another day at the stadium, which means it’s another day of boredom.

Oh, there are things to do around here, sure. If you don’t mind being ordered around by soldiers who stand behind you with a scowl on their face and remind you that the only reason you’re even there is because of their good will, you’ll find a job to do. Cleaning a corner of the stadium, probably, in hopes that someone will be able to live there — as if there were enough mattresses — or doing the inventory, again, while looking the other way when rations mysteriously go missing and everyone knows who’s doing the taking.

Thing is, you’ve never been one to grovel. In fact, back in the Before days, you were the one giving the orders. Youngest assistant coach for the Doosan bears, the Seoul baseball team, you were in line to become the youngest coach in the history of the country. And, yeah, you weren’t completely in charge, but you were trusted. You had responsibilities. People knew to take you seriously.

You’ve had ideas for how to run this place more efficiently, to avoid making the civilians feel like they’re second-rate citizens, but it’s been made clear to you that you weren’t welcome to make suggestions. So you haven’t bothered, lately, but you also won’t play in that stupid game, where people get to change the rules without telling you.

It means that you do a lot of aimless walking around in the stadium. Chief Ji implicitly lets you roam around, a testament to the fact that you knew each other well back in the days, when you used to bring her coffee before big games, but you mostly try to make yourself useful in the way soldiers haven’t bothered accounting for.

A lot of that means keeping an eye on kids that are left to themselves otherwise. Their parents are busy, and it’s not like there’s much to do for them, here, so you try to keep them entertained. Unfortunately, you’re no teacher, meaning that it’s a lot of physical activities, wherever you find enough place. Other days, people who are teachers take over for you. That is the case today, meaning you’d have the day ‘off’, if it weren’t for Yeong-Su not showing up for class.

You don’t personally think he should have to attend class. You know how mean the other kids can be to him, and though the teachers don’t do much in the name of keeping the peace, you don’t let that fly when you’re in charge. Which is probably why the kid never misses your classes, a small pride that you keep well tucked in your heart.

Still, the teachers insist that you make sure he’s okay, so you agree to go try and find him. He knows the stadium well, meaning it will be no easy task.

You end up finding him throwing a ball against a wall. It looks like he’s practicing his aim, you think when you notice that he’s drawn a square on it. You’re about to approach him, maybe give him a few pointers, when a particularly hard throw has the ball bouncing too high and it crashes through a window, finishing outside of the stadium.

You freeze. Monsters don’t approach the stadium much — it’s been months since there’s been a case of that happening.

But the mere thought of there being something open here still has your heart pounding with fear. It’s only a few seconds before you compose yourself, but that’s long enough for someone to come running. You rush towards Yeong-Su, prepared to fiercely defend him if you need to.

It’s Chan-Young, and you relax, even if your heart is now pounding for a whole other reason.

“What happened here?” he asks.

He may have been running with his whole equipment, but he shows no sign of being out of breath.

“I’m sorry,” Yeong-Su mumbles. He’s hard to handle, especially these days, but he clearly respects Chan-Young a lot. “I didn’t mean to— I was just practicing and—"

Oh gosh, you realize, kid was practicing pitching, and it’s not lost on you that that’s the position Chan-Young mainly played as.

“…and now I’ve lost my ball,” Yeong-Su sniffs.

He’s trying to hold back tears, and it tears a little piece of your heart away. You know that Yeong-Su had found a ball autographed by Chan-Young, know that it’s one of his most prized possessions. It’s no surprise that Yeong-Su can’t stand the thought of losing anything more than what he already has.

Chan-Young glances at you, still standing a few steps behind Yeong-Su.

“He didn’t mean to,” you say. “I’ll help you fix the window.” Eun-Yu probably won’t mind giving you a hand, too.

Chan-Young nods, and you watch as he puts a knee to the floor, so he’s at eye-level with Yeong-Su. If he was any other soldier, you’d be more cautious, but you know him. Worked with him, when he was on your team, lost him when he enlisted, and now you’re in this strange limbo, where he doesn’t seem to know how to interact with you, even though there is this obvious familiarity between the two of you, every time you do speak.

“You need to be more careful,” he tells Yeong-Su, putting on his Serious voice. “If a monster heard that and came in, it could be very dangerous for everyone. And if you’re in front of the window when it happens, it would attack you first. So don’t let that happen again, okay?”

Then he gives Yeong-Su a small, comforting smile.

“If you want to practice again, come ask me next time, okay?” He glances up at you, and there’s such softness in his eyes when he does. “Or ask the coach. She knows her stuff.”

You’d never become coach, not officially, but his use of the word makes your heart swell.

“Okay,” Yeong-Su mumbles, staring down at his feet.

For a moment, it looks like everything will resolve itself just like that, and you’re already putting a hand on Yeong-Su’s shoulders to pull him away with you, when you hear the familiar stomping of military boots coming towards you.

Chan-Young’s expression changes immediately.

“Go,” he orders.

“But…”

He spins around to grab your shoulders, lowering himself to look straight into your eyes.

“Go,” he repeats. “Please.”

There’s such urgency in his voice that you can’t deny him, even if you’re not sure what is going on exactly. You grab Yeong-Su’s hand and pull him with you until you’re both behind a corner, just in time. You keep an eye on the scene, confused. The soldiers behave like assholes, you know that, but surely—

“What happened here?” the Sergeant bellows in Chan-Young’s face. “You’re lucky it was us, who were standing outside the window, and not something else! You better have an explanation, soldier.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Chan-Young says, shoulders straight, from what you can see. “I was just practicing and—”

Before you can wonder why he’d lie, the punch catches him in the stomach, and he doubles over in pain. You catch yourself before you can gasp out loud, and instinctively cover Yeong-Su’s mouth, which is probably a smart move, because he starts thrashing to run towards Chan-Young. You don’t blame him, but you also absolutely cannot let him do that, not right now.

“Yeong-Su,” you whisper, mimicking Chan-Young’s attitude with you just a minute ago. “You need to go back to Ms. Cha. Okay?”

“But they’re…”

You wince, because they’re still berating Chan-Young, and one of them has just given him a hard kick to the ribs. All the more reason for you to intervene.

“I’ll take care of it, I promise, but I can’t do that if you’re here. So go back to her, and I’ll come see you when everything is okay again, alright?”

He sniffs, rubs his eyes to hide the tears, then turns around and runs. At least he’s got a good survival instinct, you think, even if it hurts to remember where it comes from. The second you’re sure he’s not coming back, it’s your turn to run, but towards the soldiers this time, with a confidence that you now worry is wholly unwarranted.

“Hey, don’t you think that’s enough?” you interject, maneuvering so you can get between them and Chan-Young.

There’s a scoff and they roll their eyes. One of them puts his hand on your shoulder and pushes, but you barely take a step back. You’re used to men trying to intimidate you.

“I thought we’d made it clear that your opinions weren’t welcome,” Seo-Jin snaps at you, getting too close to your face for comfort — like that would make you budge.

“Doesn’t mean I’m going to let you beat up someone because he broke a fucking window, when if you’d gotten to work, that hole would be closed by now,” you reply on the same tone.

He opens his mouth to yell at you once more, a vein bulging on his forehead, when Chan-Young comes to stand in front of you. He’s barely just gotten on his feet, has one hand pressed against his rib cage, and still, he’s already coming to stop you from taking any risk. You want to scream at him and hug him all at the same time.

“Please, sir, she doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

Neither does he!

“That’s enough, Seo-Jin,” sergeant Kim finally intervenes, and the man immediately takes a step back. “Don’t let it happen again,” he tells Chan-Young. “And fix the hole,” he tells you, as an afterthought, before leaving and taking his team with him.

Your blood is boiling. He might try to be the voice of reason now, but you saw him doing nothing while his men got blood on their hands so he wouldn’t have to.

You don’t have time to think about it, though, because next to you, Chan-Young has slowly let himself slide to the floor.

“Are you okay?” you ask, panicked, while he grimaces and leans against the wall.

“I’m fine,” he says, an obvious lie. “You shouldn’t have said anything.”

“You took responsibility for something you had nothing to do with, but I’m the one who shouldn’t have said anything?”

He sighs, shakes his head.

“I just don’t want anything to happen to you,” he says. He looks at you with warm eyes, and you feel your breath catching in your throat.

There’s something about Chan-Young, there always has been. You always have to remind yourself that he’s nice to everyone, because he’s such a kind person. Even that didn’t stop you from falling for him — and it’s the second time that it happens, damn him.

“I’ll go get medical supplies,” you say, pushing yourself to your feet. “Stay here.”

“There’s no need to—”

“Please, do you want to die from an infection after surviving all these monsters? Stay. Here.”

You ignore any further protests as you rush to get the supplies.

It doesn’t take you long. Chief Ji provides you with what you need without questions, and apologizes for not being able to give you painkillers — they’re reserved for emergencies, she explains. You know the other supplies are, too, but you understand her reasoning, and just thank her with a quick nod and a promise to help out for the next few shifts outside the stadium, if she needs it.

When you come back, Chan-Young’s moved to sit on one of the boxes that are always laying around in here, and you grab another one to sit across from him.

“Open your jacket,” you say as you take the disinfectant.

“I— I don’t think that’s necessary—”

“C’mon, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” you say with an eyeroll, because the guys on the team weren’t exactly shy about taking their shirt off in front of you and he should remember that.

He clears his throat and glances away, and you notice his ears turning red.

“Um, right. Yeah. Just a second.”

Under the jacket, he’s wearing a simple white t-shirt, and he lifts it up so you can see for yourself.

And it’s not looking good. The area is red and swollen already, and you worry it will be worse soon. Unfortunately, there’s not much you can do about that, so you disinfect the scratches caused by the boots, and gesture for him to put it back down. You’d normally advise to put something cold on it, to calm the swelling, but that’s not really an option here, not when the little electricity you have is mostly used to keep the lights on.

“Try not to move around too much, okay?”

“I’ll try my best,” he says with a brief laugh. It’s a silly recommendation, and you both know it, but you still felt the need to say something.

“Now give me your hand, I’ll see what I can do.”

He does, and you carefully turn it to check the palm. You’re not sure if he hurt himself when he fell earlier, or if it’s just that there’s constantly manual work to be done and it’s hard not to injure your hand. Either way, you start cleaning it and disinfecting it as well.

“Do you think they would have been as hard on a kid?” you ask.

“No!” he protests immediately, maybe a tad too strongly. “They’re humans. I’m sure they wouldn’t have—” He interrupts himself, and you suspect that he knows they still could have hit him, a thought that makes your stomach turn. “But… Yeong-Su’s had a hard enough life as it is. People here are not… kind to him.”

“I’m not blaming you, especially after that,” you sigh, “I just— You do realize that it’s not your responsibility, right? I’d have helped the kid, and it could have ended better than…”

You gesture vaguely at him, and he closes his eyes for a second. He closes his fingers over yours where you’re holding his hand, rubs his thumb over your skin, which sends a wave of heat through your body. It only lasts a moment, though, before he catches himself and lets go.

“I’m— I was in charge, when his sister— I was supposed to be helping them. And I failed him.”

“What?” Ms. Cha told you that story, in hushed whispers, to explain why Yeong-Su was such a complicated child these days. It had been clear that there was nothing Chan-Young could have done. “You can’t blame yourself for someone turning into a monster and going on a rampage.”

“It happened on my watch,” he insists. “If I’d been more careful— If I hadn’t left the bus—”

You stop yourself to look at him straight in the eye. He’s close, but you don’t feel uncomfortable, not with him.

“That could have happened to anyone. You couldn’t have planned for it.” He exhales, long and slow.

“Thank you for saying that,” he says, but you can tell that your words haven’t sunk in. It breaks your heart, and yet you have no idea what more you can say. After all, you weren’t there. It makes sense that he wouldn’t believe you.

“You still shouldn’t put yourself in the line of danger to—” to what, anyway? Expiate his sins? What does he have to prove? Does he have a death wish or something? “You shouldn’t put yourself in danger when you don’t have to.”

“Better me than Yeong-Su,” he insists. “He’s just a kid, and he has his mom — well, Ms. Cha. And he has you.” You set the disinfectant back down, hands almost trembling as you realize where he’s going with this. “Better me than him,” he just concludes sadly.

“Park Chan-Young,” you say, “you don’t seriously think that, right?”

He doesn’t meet your eyes when he replies.

“He has a family here. I— don’t really have anyone—”

You’re not sure what goes through your head when you put your hand on his cheek and kiss him. If you had to rationalize it — which you’re not really in any position to do when it happens — you’d say that you just wanted to prove him how wrong he was. Truth is, though, that you also couldn’t bear the idea that you were letting him believe that when it was so entirely untrue.

His lips are warm against yours, and you think you feel him leaning into you, but you pull away too soon to know.

“There,” you say as you gather your things. “Now you know you do have someone, so don’t put yourself in danger unnecessarily, alright?”

Then you’re on your feet, hell-bent on fleeing the scene.

Of course, Chan-Young catches up with you in an instant. He grabs your wrist, and pulls you back against him. His eyes are wide as he searches yours.

“Did you mean that?” he asks, his voice catching in his throat.

“Mean what?” Your heart is pounding in your chest. You’re… not sure where he is going with this.

“It wasn’t pity, right? You— I have you?”

The words almost send a shiver down your spine.

“Of course you do. I don’t exactly go around kissing people—”

Next thing you know, his hands are cupping your face and his mouth is on yours. He kisses you feverishly, like he desperately needs you to prove your words to him. You kiss back without hesitation, wrapping your arms around his neck. It isn’t long before your back hits the wall and you let out a brief groan.

“Sorry,” he says, pulling away from you to check on you. “Are you—”

You don’t let him finish, pulling him back down against you. His hands move down to your waist, one of them slipping under your t-shirt to feel your bare skin. He’s kissing you slower now, more sensual, and he abandons your mouth to kiss down your jaw, then your neck, before he comes back to your lips.

“I shouldn’t—” he mumbles against you. “I’m not supposed to—”

“Everyone’s doing it,” you reply, but it doesn’t surprise you when he tears himself away from you. He’s a sight to behold, flushed and out of breath — and is it odd that you enjoy seeing him panting from kissing you when you know he can run for hours without struggling? He’s always been one to stick to the rules closely. It says a lot that he broke one right now, but you won’t push him any further, not until he’s ready.

You take a step back towards him, take his hand in yours, and press your lips to his cheek for one last, soft kiss.

“Don’t forget now,” you say. “You have me. Don’t risk your life without thinking.”

He doesn’t kiss you again, but he leans in to press his forehead against yours, squeezing your hand in his.

“I have you,” he repeats, as if to convince himself. “I have you.”

I hope you liked it! as always, if you did, consider reblogging and letting me know what you thought! feedback is really motivating and is what keep us authors going, so leaving a comment or sending an ask or anything really helps to keep me writing!

more writing for sweet home

#sweet home #sweet home x reader #sweet home netflix #sweet home season #park chan young #chan young #chan young x reader #park chan young x reader #sweet home imagines #park jinyoung #my writing

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bunnyboysrus · 3 months

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Of Monsters and Omegas

I read this a/b/o thing a while ago, I don't even know who the original was by I can't find it again y-y

but it had a thing I'd never seen in a/b/o before, with an idea of an alpha, claim biting another alpha and turning them into an omega (talked to a friend and it turns out this is a thing that has been written about more than once, im just out of touch and its not even friday) and it was an amazing story, super well written, I just personally didn't like the ending cause I'm the #1 advocate for brat readers and not the biggest fan of crybabies or the total pheromone brainwashing that people write for omegas that make them do the complete opposite of what they would normally do, I'd like to think they have more resistance to the chemicals than that albeit at the cost of some physical and psychological pain. so im writing my own, thingy, with a different ending.

18+ Minors DNI - 6.3k words Content Warnings: stalking, obsession, death, fighting, violence, blood, torture(?), kidnapping, noncon touching, suggestive, gangs, some degradation, reader is referred to as 'princess' gender neutrally (im new to this so if theres anything i forgot pls let me know)

The heavy sounds of flesh hitting flesh echoed against the stone walls of the alleyway concealing the battered figures of the people fighting within it. One person lay dazed and immobile on the ground already, followed shortly by a second body, this one out cold before he even hit the ground. The last two fighters standing were locked in a desperate grapple, and despite having been beset upon by three assholes at once, the would-be victim who had been pulled into the alley on their way home from a long day of college classes gains the upper hand for the third and final time. Your muscles burn as you grunt and send the last assailant flying into the hard brick wall, one final crack ringing through the tight, dark space as they slide down the wall onto the dirty ground, right into an unfortunately placed puddle of dumpster juice. They leave a splatter of blood on the stone where the back of their head split on the stained grit.

Blood drips from the knuckles of the hand you run through the sweaty hair slicked to your forehead as you stoop and pick up your backpack from where it had been tossed to the side. You spot a wallet on the ground, knocked out of someone's pocket at some point during the fight, and pocket the cash from that too, for the inconvenience. These scumbags were lucky they weren't dead, yet, anyway. For this? They'd probably be killed within the week once you gave their ID's to your older sister.

You continue on your way back home, wiping the blood off your knuckles and face with the sleeve of your coat as you go.

Why those grunts had seemingly staked you out was beyond you, other than the obvious reason of being a member of their gang's most vicious and historied rival. Your family was a notorious one, a family business dealing mostly in drugs but with a few spare hands in money laundering and data gathering. You were fully aware that what your family did was illegal in a dozen different ways, but it was what you had grown up in, it was what paid for your lavish lifestyle, so who were you to be judgmental? Besides, to compromise within a morally gray area, you know your family prefers to keep things as bloodless as possible, less clean up and attention that way. As a fresh adult who was only in your second year of college however, you were ignorant to most of those details, and chose to be so. You understood why your family didn't want to involve you just yet, and you didn't care to dig into it, the longer you could go with less responsibilities, the better. So, for now, you were content to stay in the dark and live your carefree, well-funded life.

Of course, that didn't mean you were naive or anything. You know very well that you were in constant danger of being attacked or killed, even as you lived a perfectly normal college life. So, as any self-respecting alpha would, you worked out intensely and routinely, to the point of being intimidating even to other alphas. Running into a few punks here and there was nothing to you, even when they came in groups like they had today.

The remaining smears of blood on your knuckles have dried into a crust by the time you get home. Once you've kicked off your shoes at the door, you hide the gory evidence of your altercation in your coat pockets as you step into the living room of your family's manor. Your sisters, Nina, the youngest, and Esme, older than you but younger than your brothers, Leon and Silas, are sitting on the couch closest to the TV, a drama of some sort playing as they shared a bowl of strawberries. Nina beams at you from the couch.

"Hey! How was your day?"

Nina was still in high school, which in your opinion was way worse than college, so the fact that she still had the spunk and energy to greet you so enthusiastically warmed your heart. You smile back at her as you head for the stairs.

"It was pretty good, I finally finished that project so now I don't have to stay late at the library anymore."

"That's great! That means you'll be home early enough to watch Cats of Heaven with me!"

"I should have enough time for that, sure." You chuckle. You had no clue what that was, but if you had to guess, knowing your sister it was the newest silly cartoon that she had become infatuated with. At least she wasn't trying to get you to watch the insufferable dramas that she liked to watch with Leon and Esme, like what was on now, but you would never admit to your siblings how corny you thought those kinds of shows were. You could only hope Cats of Heaven was something more entertaining than the standard soap operas you'd observed.

"There's pizza in the kitchen." Esme calls to you as you start up the stairs.

Ah, so Leon isn't home yet. The oldest of your siblings was the one who normally cooked, more often than even your mother. You call back an acknowledgement before jogging up the stairs to your room. After cleaning yourself of the day's grime, and the blood of course, you change clothes and trot back downstairs, heading for the kitchen to obtain some of the aforementioned pizza. Getting past the group project you'd been working on for the past three months meant more free time after school for the immediate future, and you were all too keen to relax with your family, even if it meant slogging through a show that was potentially horrendous.

You pad back into the living room, already halfway through one of the five slices of cheesy divinity on your plate. You were just sitting down between Esme and Nina when the sound of keys in the front foyer made you all perk up.

"I thought they weren't coming back for another few days?" Esme voices the question on all of your minds, 'they' being your parents and oldest brother, who had left on a business trip a little under a week ago.

"Maybe they finished work early and wanted it to be a surprise." Nina suggests happily, as the sound of footsteps in the hallway grows closer. You're hit with a sudden wave of apprehension at the same time as Esme, both of you standing abruptly to move in front of your youngest sister as a crowd of strangers step into the room with shameless casualness. Leading them, is an imposing alpha man with ink black hair tied at the nape of his neck and burning red eyes so piercing it almost made you shiver to be caught in their gaze. Almost.

The only thing that overpowered the rising fear was anger.

You sprint directly for the leader, arm pulled back for a haymaker, but some beta grunt gets in your way and takes the blow. It's clear from the confidence with which he steps in that he was unprepared for the force behind the fist, and ends up on his face on the floor, dead to the world. The first swing immediately spurs the others into action, and they surge around their leader to subdue you. It turns out to be a much harder endeavor than any of them anticipate, even when one lackey throws themself onto your back to weigh down your movement, you move as though the weight wasn't there at all, ramming backwards and crushing the brave idiot and one other against the wall. You're about to make another lunge for the leader, who has so far been lounging in an insufferably smug manner against the wall, watching the fight but not bothering to get involved, when you hear a shrill scream behind you that stops you cold.

You turn back to see Nina trapped in the arms of a muscly thug, and Esme thrashing on the ground at her feet, held down by two others. Your rage surges and you move to attack their captors, but the momentary distraction caused by your little sister's distress is all the time that's needed for three more men to jump on you and drag you to the ground. It takes 5 people altogether to hold you down as you curse and struggle against their hold trying to reach your sisters.

The leader of the home invasion chuckles condescendingly as he finally moves from his spot against the wall and walks closer, kneeling down by your face, a tight smile on his face that holds no amusement.

"You're just as feisty as ever, second youngest. I've heard all about your track record in fights, your unbroken win streak was so intimidating that I thought for sure it'd take more than that to subdue you. I'm a little disappointed."

"Fuck you!!!" It's all you can manage to spit out amongst your fury and exhaustion; normally you'd be able to throw off even five people, at least enough to get an arm free to strike out, but you were already worn out from your earlier fight. That, and a literal glob of spit that lands splat dab against the side of the assault leader's nose; damn, so close to hitting him in the eye.

The room goes cold and still, the thugs surrounding you and your siblings seem to take in a collective breath of anxiety, looking nervously to their leader for his reaction. To their surprise, he simply stares down intensely at the struggling alpha on the floor as he wipes the spit off his cheek... and licks it off his thumb.

"Oh, are you sure that's smart? You might not care about your own compromised position... but you care about theirs, right?" He glances over to the men holding down your sisters and in response to an unspoken signal, they draw knives and hold them menacingly against their throats. Esme growls furiously, but Nina screams again in fear as tears pour down her cheeks.

"Stop! Stop it, don't terrorize them! You're here for me, right?! Then just take me outside and beat me to death if that's what you want but leave them alone!!!" You still sound enraged, but even you are aware of the fear that leaks into your voice.

"Aww, worried for your sisters? Me too." The faux amusement in the alpha leader's voice is gone now, replaced with a cold fury chilling enough to send a zing of worry into your spine. The leader grabs a fistful of your hair in a painfully tight grip as he pulls your head up, his other hand spinning a set of keys around his finger. Your blood runs cold when you zero in on the plastic pink dolphin hanging on the ring.

Those are your mother's keys.

"You seem to think I'm here because you put a few grunts into the hospital. You're mistaken." The alpha tilts his head as his eyes pierce into yours, searching, but for what, you don't know. "You aren't aware of what your brother's been up to, are you?"

"You'll have to be more specific; I have two." You huff, trying not to stare too obviously at the dolphin, trying desperately not to think of what it might mean of your mother's fate for this asshole to be holding those keys.

"Silas." The alpha says icily, speaking the name like a curse.

Warily, you shake your head, the clawed grip on your head barely allowing the movement. "No, I'm not aware of anything my brothers and parents are involved in."

"That's unfortunate... But I'm already aware of that. It's cute, honestly, did they think leaving you out of the loop would keep you safe and uninvolved?" He gives your hair a sharp tug, eliciting a hiss from the fuming alpha. "All it did was make you the perfect tool for revenge."

"What the fuck are you even talking about you piece of shi-" The leader slams your face into the ground, and although the floor is carpeted, it only buffers the brunt force so much. When the leader lifts your head back up, your nose is dripping blood.

"I'm talking now. Unless you want me to kill your sisters in front of you, you'll shut the fuck up and listen like a good little bitch."

A growl rumbles through you which is met with another face first kiss into the floor, but the alpha doesn't signal anything to the thugs holding your sisters.

"Listen well, as I won't repeat myself. Silas kidnapped my sister, and I can only assume he claimed her. That, or he killed her, but I doubt it. Your mother was helping him to keep them both hidden, and to her credit she refused to sell him out, no matter how much we hurt her." The spinning of the keys stops abruptly as the leader catches them in his palm before dangling them in front of you. "I guess she didn't stop to think about what that choice might mean for her other children, left so innocent and unaware at home, alone. Maybe she had a favorite?"

Your blood runs cold as you take in the intruder's words. You had never been particularly close with Silas, hell, none of your siblings were. He had always been very distant with his siblings, while the rest of you went on to be incredibly close with one another, leaving Silas as the odd one out. That wasn't to say you hadn't all at some point tried to get closer with him, he had simply always made it clear he had no interest. This was probably also fueled by the coddling you had all observed from your mother; Silas had always been her golden boy, incapable of wrongdoing.

"I had no idea... None of us did." You can only hope the sincerity is clear in your voice and face; you genuinely had no idea your brother had done such a thing or was even capable of doing such. If the kidnapping was fueled by anything other than the feud between your families... The thought made you sick.

The leader considers your words, his chilling gaze never wavering in the slightest from yours.

"I believe you. From what I gather, based on what we were able to discern from the phone we took from your mother, she and he were the only ones in on it."

Your relief is short lived when a cruel, mirthless smirk creeps over the leader's face. There's a sudden sting in the side of your neck, you barely have time to register the pinch of pain before darkness rushes into your vision from all sides.

"However... That doesn't alleviate you of the consequences."

A sudden splash of cold drags you unwillingly out of the darkness. You open your eyes, gasping, taking in the dirty, gray stone, the puddle surrounding you; you're no longer in your living room. You now find yourself somewhere dark and cemented on all sides, the cold dampness pervading the space the kind that only comes from being underground. The only illumination comes from a single bare bulb swinging on a frayed wire over your head, the light it casts only making the space feel more unnerving.

Looming over you, face cast eerily in the darkness clumping up around the edges of the bulb's dingy light, is the leader of the home invasion. His red eyes are black in the shadow, but still alight with something cruel and mocking. He has a bucket in his hand, empty save for the last few drops of water clinging to the lip, the rest of it covering you.

"Good morning, princess. Sleep well?"

It's just the two of you, alone. No guards, no thugs, no sign of your sisters. You process this information a split second before you register the weight clamped down around your arms and waist, metal rattling loudly through the small space when you try to lunge for him, only to be stopped short by a chain attached to the wall behind you. You twist your arms violently, feeling the bite of handcuffs digging into your wrists, chains pulling taught where they're wrapped around your waist. Your captor laughs at your efforts.

It's when you growl in response to the taunting laughter that you feel more metal on your face. A muzzle. You can't suppress the fury thrashing around in your chest like a wild animal, growing more and more violent the more humiliation is piled on. The abduction, the laughter, the restraints, the muzzle. You kick and pull and yank and spit and snarl, don't stop even when the metal bites and blood makes your skin slippery against the cuffs.

"Aww, throwing a tantrum now? Cute." The words are barely enough warning before you're shoved onto your back, arms grinding painfully between the restrains and the dirty floor.

Your captor straddles you, his weight keeping your body pressed flat to the ground while one hand settles into the curve of your throat and squeezes. His palm presses lightly into your airway at the same time that his thumb rubs slow, pensive circles in the dip between your neck and collar. You shiver apprehensively when it brushes over the scent gland in your neck.

"I already told you I don't know where your sister is. Fucking kill me already so you can get even, just don't hurt my sisters. They're not involved!"

"Second time you've asked me to kill you... you seem quite keen on it." He smirks. "Unfortunately, you're all involved by virtue of simply being a part of that family. I know none of you are stupid enough to be completely ignorant to your family's doings."

Another growl bubbles up in your throat, only to be choked into silence when your captor tightens his grip around your neck.

"You know, I've thought for a while now that the older you've gotten, the less happy you've looked. The worst time, was right after your high school graduation, it was like the last of your light had left your eyes." His smile softens into something pitying, bordering on sympathetic even, but all you feel is chills running up and down your spine. "You always used to be so carefree, and spirited, it was crushing to see you looking so worn down and sad. It took me a while to realize what was killing the happy you I love so much."

The hands around your neck loosen as the leader leans down, hips shifting against your crotch as he moves, completely unbothered by the water soaking into his pants. He brings his face to your ear, lips grazing against the shell of it.

"Don't you think trying so hard to posture around like a big tough alpha is exhausting? I know it is, I know intimately the sort of shit we go through to come out on top as the strongest, the worthiest... But that struggle never suited you, did it? You've always seemed too sweet for it to me, more like an omega than an alpha."

You can't help but take the opportunity to thrust your head forward and slam it into your captor's face, forcing him back into his upright position. Ignoring the stalker shit this guy was just babbling was difficult, but you decided to skip it for now since honestly you didn't really wanna hear the details...

"You've gotta be shitting me, I've sent hundreds of you losers to the hospital and the grave since I was a middle schooler. If you're seriously trying to compare me to an omega, then I know you're full of it and just trying to piss me off."

He raises an eyebrow, surprisingly not retaliating against the bonk to his head, not yet at least.

"So, what would you call the manicures you get monthly with your sister?"

"I call that self-care and spending time with my sister. Fighting off all your fuckin' grunts wears my hands out and I'm not fond of scars. I deserve a relaxing hand massage for the trouble of beating your thugs up every week."

"And the mall trips where you spend hundreds on clothes which you follow up with a trip to that quaint little bakery where you always get a strawberry cream cake? That doesn't strike you as omega-ish?"

"Go to hell. For one thing, it's insanely creepy that you know all that, and for another, you're stereotyping like a motherfucker. Alphas aren't all meatheads that do nothing but eat raw steak, jerk off and work out, and all omegas aren't valley preps that do nothing but shop and primp. People who think like you are what's wrong with society."

The leader's deep red eyes stare intensely into your face for an eerily long moment before the corners of his lips twitch. At first its imperceptible, and while he clearly fights to keep a straight face, he can't keep down the chuckles bubbling out of his throat for long. He throws his head back in a burst of full body laughter, the least cruel sound he's made since you met him. When he finally manages to calm himself, the leader beams down at you as he wipes a tear out of his eye.

"My god... You're so fucking cute. Do you even hear yourself? You're only proving my point. You're meant to be pampered and taken care of, sheltered and safe from petty street fights and laborious expectations of strength and intimidation. You look so much cuter and happier getting your nails done than you do working out and swaggering around trying to be impressive and domineering."

This conversation had already been creepy since it started, but this was starting to genuinely unnerve you. You try to lean your head further away from the alpha on top of you, but he grabs the front of your muzzle, dragging you closer.

"Don't run away now tough guy. I thought a big bad alpha like you wasn't scared. How's it feel to be the one on bottom? Feeling threatened by the idea of someone putting you in your place? Scared?" He drags his tongue across the thin bars of the muzzle, his breath ghosting over your lips.

"What do you want from me?" You finally manage to ask, despite the tightness in your throat. As much as you expect to dread the answer, you can't stand any more of the back and forth while you wait in suspense for torture, for death, for something. Something other than whatever it is about this whole exchange that is making this guy so rock hard. You're trying to ignore it but, you've been feeling the unmistakable prod of this weirdo's boner against your crotch for almost the whole time you've been speaking.

"Still waiting on me to kill you? Knowing how proud you are, I bet you'd prefer death over what I have planned for you." The freak on top of you chuckles, his voice lowering to a husk as he leans down and nuzzles his nose into the crook between your neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply. "You smell so sweet even now, for an alpha...~ You'll smell even better soon."

Before you can ask what the hell he's talking about, you feel a kitten lick against your neck that makes you freeze. It's light at first, but quickly turns into broad strokes of his tongue and open mouth kisses from shoulder to jaw, wet and insistent.

No way. Nowaynowaynowaynoway. Obviously, no one is incapable of being sexually assaulted but it rarely ever happened to alphas, they weren't exactly the cute, easy targets creeps normally went for. It had never even been a passing concern for you up until now.

"Hey! Are you fucking-gh...!" You choke on your words when a sharp sting pulses through your neck. A heartbeat later, a deep and agonizing burning sensation starts to spread through your veins, up into your head where the white-hot burn is so blaring that it clouds your vision with spots, and down into your chest where your heart starts pounding against your ribs like it's trying to claw its way out. You can only gasp soundlessly as pain like you've never experienced rips through you, tearing screams from your lungs that die before they can even leave your throat, coming out only as gasping whimpers. It's after you feel a second bite and the pain is redoubled that you finally manage to shriek out loud, a sound so visceral and so unlike any sound or scream you've ever made that it doesn't even sound like you.

When he bites into your scent gland for a third time, the pressure building behind your eyes from the pain and the lightheadedness of screaming without pause for breath snaps. You can feel yourself losing consciousness again, and this time you couldn't be more grateful for it.

Your return to the waking world is much slower this time. Whereas before you were yanked out of the darkness with a splash of cold water, this time you find yourself wading through it, a lake of sludge thicker than cold syrup, and it was just as sticky and unpleasant as you imagine such a thing would be. Despite what feels like physical pounds of exhaustion weighing them down, you manage to drag your eyes open.

You feel cold and damp all over, a fresh drop of sweat rolling down your neck. A full body ache that sinks deep into your bones covers you; you feel like you're made of glass, fragile, weak and sore.

A strip of dim, greyed light is shining on the ceiling over your head; its all you can focus on as your awareness swims to the surface and clambers out of the heavy lake still trying to drag it down. You shift and lift one of your arms out from under the thick blanket covering you and notice gauze wrapped around your wrist. A small, delicate gasp to your side makes you turn your head. Nina is sitting in a chair by your bedside, clutching your other hand tightly between hers.

"You're awake! Y-You were sleeping so long I thought you'd never..." She sniffles, holding your hand to her cheek as hot tears drip onto your wrist. You slowly turn your hand to press your palm against her cheek, smiling softly.

"It's okay Nina, I'm alive, it's alright." Your voice is barely more than a croak, scratching painfully out of your throat. Nina grabs a cup of water from a bedside table and gently helps you take a few sips. When you've managed to drain the whole cup, you lay back in the bed with a wearied sigh.

"What happened? I thought for sure I was dying, I..." You trail off, thinking back to the odd conversation you'd had with the alpha who had led your home's invasion. Your head is pounding, and you feel so weak, like you're just waking up from the worst part of a flu, still feeling traces of a fever in the heat trapped in your blankets and the sweat clinging to your skin. A growl from the window pulls your attention away from your condition.

"That motherfucker... He did something to you." Esme is leaning against the frame of the large window casting the gray light over the ceiling a few feet away from where you and Nina are sitting, a cigarette crushed in half in her hand. You can't help but be faintly alarmed at the sight of it; Nina had expressly forbidden Esme from smoking, and she hadn't been caught with a cigarette in over a year. To see her with one in front of Nina, and for Nina to not be making any fuss over it, means something is seriously wrong. A distant rumble punctuates the tense silence that falls over you all, and you notice that the slim strip of sky visible through the partially parted curtains over the window is blotted out with storm gray.

"Did what to me?" You press. Your sisters exchange a look that is far too loaded to discern anything from other than Nina's palpable concern and Esme's frustration. You quickly get tired of waiting for one of them to tell you what is going on.

"Will one of you please tell me what is making you both look at me like I've caught some kind of fatal disease?" You huff, anxiety bleeding into your words. Nina glances one more time to Esme, who adamantly refuses to look away from the window as she throws down her ruined cigarette and retrieves a new one.

"You... Er, well you were... claimed. By Emil." Nina says quietly, staring down at her hands in her lap rather than you.

You stare at her blankly. What she's saying makes sense objectively, but you can't make sense of what it could have to do with you. Claiming was something exclusively done between alphas and omegas. You almost want to laugh and call it absurd, when you remember the sharp, burning pain of something piercing your neck. You shiver as you recall that the pain had been sourced in the same area as your scent gland. Your hand slowly, shakily, reaches up to press two probing fingers to your neck. Pain pulses faintly through you again when the tips of your fingers find gauze wrapped around it.

The weakness pervading your entire body, the nervousness underlying all of the other emotions swirling in your gut, the foreign sensation settled in your lower abdomen... Somehow, you know instinctively what it all means before your sister even says it.

"He bitched you. You're an omega now." Esme's voice has dropped to a low, hard to hear octave. You almost want to believe you imagined what you just heard, but you know deep down that what she says is true. The despair must show on your face, as Nina grabs your hand again, squeezing it tightly between both of hers.

"I-It'll be okay...! Emil is actually very nice, and he's genuinely-" She's cut off by the sharp slam of Esme's fist against the wall.

"Bullshit! Don't even start Nina. He bitched you and he expects you to roll over and be happy about it, but I say fuck that!" She snarls, her new cigarette meeting the same fate as its predecessor as she crushes it in her fist and throws it to the ground. "He's gone on and on at us trying to prove that this is all somehow what's best for you, but he just sounds deranged! He's a sick, obsessive freak, and he wants you to-!"

The sound of a door opening stops her short, and all three siblings jerk around to look at the newcomer entering through the door on the far side of the room from the bed. A woman in scrub pants and a sweater glowers down at all three siblings, looking supremely exhausted.

"You two, you were told you would only be allowed in if you didn't cause trouble. Are you distressing the patient right after they wake up?" She asks in a cold, droning voice.

Nina and Esme exchange defeated, worried glances before Nina speaks up.

"N-No ma'am, we weren't trying to be disruptive we were just-"

"Overwhelming someone coming out of a physically taxing ordeal that left them comatose for almost two weeks." She interjects dryly. "Come on, visitation's over, both of you out."

You expect your sisters to argue, to tell her off for expecting them to leave you alone and insist on staying with you, but to your shock your sisters resignedly stand up and head for the door. Once they've both shuffled out, the nurse (?) shuts the door behind them and trudges over to you. You flinch away from her touch, but she grabs you in firm but gentle hands, holding you still as she looks you over.

"I expected you to stay out for a few more days, but you're one tough little cookie. How are you feeling?"

Bewildered but too shell shocked to question, you answer the questions she asks you as she goes about taking your temperature and blood pressure. One impromptu physical later, she steps away from your bed with a satisfied nod.

"Alright, it looks like your recovery is progressing better than expected. You'll probably be up and about like nothing happened within a few days." You listen to her ramble about your condition before you can bring yourself to ask.

"What happened to me? Is... Is what my sister said true? Am I an omega?"

The nurse goes silent. The pitying look she gives you is all the confirmation you need.

"You should go back to sleep for now. Your body probably still feels very weak. Food will be brought to you shortly but try not to stress yourself out in the meantime." It's all she says before she hurries to the door, shutting your questions down with a firm slam. You scramble to your feet, swaying violently as soon as you try to stand. You power through it, holding down a lurching sensation akin to being on the verge of throwing up as you stagger to the door and wrench at the knob. Locked.

Fear and worry overtake you as you start slamming your hands and body into the door, though what you're trying to accomplish, not even you know. You're too weak to even stand, let alone break down a door, and before long, cold rushes into your limbs and you find yourself sliding down onto the floor, trembling and barely keeping down the bile crawling up your throat. You curl up into a ball and close your eyes.

When you awake for the third time, you don't feel nearly as ill. The ache in your limbs is still there, a mild constant, but it doesn't feel as debilitating as it did before. As you are in the middle of waking, you feel a cool hand brushing through your hair, and smell a sweet scent around you that puts you at ease. You can't help but lean your face into the hand petting you as your eyes slowly open. Snuggled against you, both arms wrapped securely around you... is that fucking freak.

You jerk away from the home invasion leader's hand, pulling him out of what looks like a deep reverie as you scramble to the side of the bed farthest from him. He smiles at you in amusement as he sits up, leaning his cheek against a fist propped on his knee.

"Good morning, princess. How are you feeling?"

You rub your hand over your neck, now free of gauze, feeling the bite marks in your skin in hyper-detail.

"You fucking... y-you, what did you do...?!" You demand, your voice a slightly higher pitch than you recall it being and shaking.

He chuckles like this was exactly what he was expecting, looking at you with a coy condescension that makes your skin crawl.

"I helped you; the first step to setting up our beautiful romance was making you an omega so I could care for you without any power struggles getting in the way. I'm not saying I look down on alphas having relationships with other alphas, but it just wasn't for me." His grin broadens as he crawls closer to you, closing the distance you'd put between you. You try to back up further, but he corners you against the headboard, arms caging you in on either side. He leans his head down, you shrink into yourself as he does but its not far enough, and his cheek brushes yours as he licks up the side of your neck. When his tongue glides over the bites on your neck, a shudder runs through you unbidden. A sudden rush of wetness between your legs shocks you to a frozen standstill. The freak looming over you takes a deep inhale, shuddering in ecstasy.

"I was right... You smell so much sweeter like this!" He presses against you, one knee parting your legs as one of his hands rubs the burning heat between your thighs. You reach to grab his wrist and pull it away, but his free hand catches yours and holds it down. The uncomfortable wetness gets worse as a heat purrs through your core, goaded by his touching.

You feel a foreign sensation crawling through your brain, sickeningly warm and disorienting. It urges you to pull your hands away, spread yourself open willingly before the alpha in front of you. It promises bliss in submission, ecstasy in relinquishing control to someone bigger and stronger than you, someone who could protect and ravish you-

A jolt runs through you as your captor's hand drifts up to dip underneath the waistband of your pants, his face lifting up from your neck to direct his affections to your lips. His attempt to take a kiss is stopped short violently by a fist slamming into his nose. He falls backwards off the side of the bed with an undignified yelp, curling up on the floor for an agonizing moment to hold his face as blood rushes between his fingers.

"W-What the hell... Aren't you...?"

"GO TO HELL YOU UGLY FREAK!!!" The panic you feel is pushed down, rage swallowing it entirely. The alpha on the floor quickly backs up as you get to your feet, fists clenched and shaking in fury.

"But I claimed you...! You can't-"

"I don't give a shit what you did! Did you seriously think I'd tolerate you touching me?! Get the hell OUT!!!!!" You scream loud enough to make your voice hoarse in your already aching throat, grabbing anything you can to hurl at him. Pillows and plastic cups chase him out as he scrambles back to the door, muttering a promise to visit again once you're in a better mood. A pillow smacks into the door with alarming force in the spot where his head had been just a split second earlier. As for the idea of you ever being in any mood that would make you tolerate being in his presence...

Fat chance of that.

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sister-lucifer · 2 years

Text

An Attempt, A Failure, A Moment Of Forgiveness

The Demon Brothers x Gender neutral reader

Genre: Fluff, Hurt + Comfort, angst but with a happy ending!

Summary: The brothers have had a particularly hard day, and you decide to make their favorite dinner to cheer them up. Unfortunately, it backfires, and now they’ve accidentally made you upset. It’s their turn to cheer you up instead.

Content/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, slight angst with a happy ending, sensitive reader, the brothers being uncharacteristically mean due to stress, Beelzebub showing his emotional intelligence, Lucifer has no idea how to apologize

*Asmodeus uses he/she pronouns

*Levi is autistic

Not fully proof read, let me know if you see any errors!

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out

“Watch it, stupid human!” Mammon hissed as he passed by you in the hall, bumping your shoulder and nearly knocking you to the ground.

“O-Oh, sorry Mammon!” You called after him, but he didn’t even turn back to you.

“Listen here, human,” He growled over his shoulder, “I have five tests I have to get through today and like, a million assignments due tonight, so stay the hell out of my way today, got it?!”

You didn’t even get a chance to respond before he had disappeared around the corner and into a classroom.

You sighed, gaze falling to your shoes as you solemnly made your way to your first period class.

This was not the first of these “mishaps” to happen today.

It seems that all of the brothers had some reason or another to be stressed; they all had important exams scheduled for today, and not to mention their countless other responsibilities outside of school.

Like Satan, who wasn’t supposed to be working after school today but had been booked for a shift anyways because his boss was, as he so elegantly put it, “a huge fucking asshole with no respect for anyone but himself.” The harsh words hadn’t been directed at you, but the icy cold glare he gave you while he said them made it feel that way.

Or Lucifer, who was up to his eyes in paperwork. He wasn’t sure how but it was ten times worse that usual, and each new paper on his desk was another grey hair. His head was pounding with a stress induced migraine that never seemed to really go away. He says he’s had a headache for the past hundred years.

Or Asmodeus, who had a photo shoot directly after school that would run for god knows how long, and she simply could not find a way to squeeze in any homework despite the fact that he was swamped with it at the moment. He was in too deep to cancel the shoot now, which meant his grades would surely suffer. Not to mention that the stress would surely give him acne, which was only making her stress out more!

The entire day it felt like they were rushing past you without so much as a glance, often disrupting you with their franticness and sometimes even rudeness. You knew they didn’t mean it, but it still hurt when Lucifer angrily snapped at you or Satan sent a sarcastic comment your way.

Fortunately, you knew just how to lighten the mood!

Although you didn’t fancy yourself a chef, the brothers always loved when you cooked authentic human food. Even something like mac and cheese was enough to cheer them up after a long day. You decided on a simple pasta recipe, something filling and easy to make for so many people.

You were only halfway through when you heard Lucifer enter the kitchen behind you.

“Oh, Lucifer! I was hoping you’d be a bit later, I have a surprise cooking…”

“What?”

Oh. He didn’t sound nearly as happy as you were hoping.

“W-Well, remember that pasta you all loved? I decided to make it for you! I figured it would take dinner duty off your hands and maybe make you all feel better after such a rough day, so—“

“Human, I already had everything ready for what I was going to make.”

His voice had a slight growl to it, a clear sign of his anger.

“I know,” You sighed, “b-but I thought—“

“Well you thought wrong. My brothers are already expecting the casserole I was going to make, and I already went through the work of prepping and storing the ingredients so I could just throw it together when I got home. Everything’s been so upside down today, I just want this one thing to stay on schedule.”

You really couldn’t blame him for that one. If there was one thing Lucifer hated, it was when plans changed. He needed everything to have an order, and if it didn’t he would get very upset very easily.

“Lucifer, I know you’re stressed, but you’re clearly exhausted. Why don’t you go rest while—“

“No, human!”

Seems that was the final straw. Although it wasn’t rare for Lucifer to get heated when scolding his brothers, he never raised his voice at you like that.

“I don’t care what you think you’re doing, I need you out! You can make your stupid pasta another night. The last thing I need is for you to muck up the one thing that hasn’t already been ruined today, so I suggest you scurry off to your room and stay there!”

You stumbled back, nearly falling before you caught yourself on the counter. You couldn’t look him in the eyes; you couldn’t even stand the thought of being in the same room. You could feel the familiar burning in your throat and the way your chest tightened as the tears began to fill up your eyes and blur your vision. You decided to give him what he wanted, and ran upstairs to your room as fast as you could. You passed Beel on the way, who opened his mouth to greet you but hardly got out a syllable as you rushed past. He could tell something was terribly wrong from the way you hid your face and teary eyes, and the way you slammed your door.

He immediately headed to the kitchen, only to see a half stunned Lucifer staring at the doorway you ran out of. He turned his attention away when he saw Beel, though, pretending that nothing was wrong. When his brother inquired about what had happened, Lucifer merely shrugged. He was overcome with emotion; yes, he felt terrible for scaring you off, but he also had six brothers who needed dinner and so many other tasks to worry about that he couldn’t make himself take pause. He figured he would deal with it later.

You had collapsed beside your bed and hid your face in your knees. You didn’t know what else to do. You’d lost your appetite and certainly didn’t want to go down for dinner, and you didn’t want to bother any of the brothers after everything that had happened. You had tried hard not to be upset and especially not to cry, to tell yourself that he didn’t mean it, but it didn’t matter. The fact that Lucifer would ever treat you that way—that ANY of the brothers would treat you the way they had today—was simply too much.

Beel was the first one to come see you. He knocked about fifteen minutes after you’d first shut yourself in, calling your name and asking if it was okay to enter. All you could muster was a hum in response.

He opened the door slowly, sticking his hand in first and revealing that he was holding a bag of blood strawberry candies. This specific kind were incredibly hard to find, limited edition with special colors, which means that he must’ve pulled them out of his secret stash.

“Hey, you alright?” He asked as he poked his head in, and you gave no response.

“Sorry, stupid question. Can I sit with you?”

You only nodded, scooting over a bit and making room for him.

“Want one?” He held out the open bag to you and shook it.

You reached your hand in and took one, putting it in your mouth without so much as a word. Beel did the same, though he preferred to munch on an entire handful at once. You both sat in silence for a few moments, and Beel didn’t speak until he had swallowed.

“So, wanna talk about it?”

You weren’t really sure. You just shrugged. It would feel nice to get it off your chest, sure, but venting to Beel about how mean he and his brothers had been today would feel terrible, even if Beel wasn’t anywhere near the worst offender.

“…Can I take a guess?”

You nodded once more, slipping your hand into the bag for another few candies.

“Well, I saw Lucifer in the kitchen. He seemed pretty shaken up. Does that have do with it?”

Your silence was all the answer he needed.

“I figured. Look, I…I know we haven’t been the nicest today. I think we all owe you an apology. We’re all stressed and tensions were crazy high, though that’s not an excuse…and I’m sorry for growling at you at lunch. I was really hungry…”

You couldn’t help but giggle at that last part. It was kind of shocking at the time, but you could laugh at it now.

You had many of these kinds of talks with Beelzebub. He was the most emotionally intelligent of the brothers, he just didn’t speak enough to let it on. The truth was he saw and heard everything, he was just better at picking his battles and shutting his trap than the others. Whenever it was just you and him, though, he always found a way to open your eyes. As long as he wasn’t hungry he was calm, cool and collected, and hardly anything bothered him.

“It’s okay, Beel…thank you.”

He sighed in relief when he finally heard you speak. He moved in a bit closer, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder.

The next one to visit was Mammon, who was not near as subtle has his brother. He came barging in, clearly worried, and had to be shushed by Beel when he yelled your name.

“Shit, sorry…” He muttered, making sure to close the door extra quietly.

“Beel sent a text to the family group chat, are you okay?” Mammon looked you over for a few seconds, and when he didn’t see anything physically wrong, he sat down on the opposite side of you from Beel.

“I’m a little better now, thanks…”

Mammon was silent for a few moments, mouth hanging half open as he tried to find words. Eventually he gave up on words all together, instead reaching into the bag you’d just noticed he brought with him. He pulled out a small bouquet of flowers, all fresh and dewy, and your favorite color too.

“Look, I know I was kind of an ass today…okay, I was a TOTAL ass today—“

He paused to smile at your laughter. Good, he was doing this right.

“—A-And I know this doesn’t make up for it, but I’m not good with words so…I figured I would do better if I could give you something with my apology…”

You gently took the flowers from his hand, taking a deep breath and inhaling their subtle scent. Mammon stared at you expectantly, watching for any sign of disapproval. Fortunately, he found absolutely none.

“Thank you, Mammon. Apology accepted.” You punctuated your sentence with a kiss on his cheek, making his face heat up a bit.

“Hey, can I have one too?” Beel asked through a mouthful of candy, and of course you had to oblige.

The next two were Satan and Asmodeus, who as usual came as a packaged deal.

“Hey love, how are you doing?” Asmodeus asked in a soft tone. When it came to comfort, he was the best in the whole Devildom. Satan trailed in behind him, hugging a book to his chest.

“I’m okay, Asmo.”

“I’m sure you are, but I’m about to make you much better.”

Asmo presented you with a small white box, which he opened to reveal a red velvet cupcake with a heart sugar topper.

“I saw this in the window of a shop today, and I just had to get it for you. A treat as sweet as my human!” She booped your nose playfully before closing the box and setting it to the side.

He took your hand in his gently, stroking your knuckles with his thumb.

“Satan here isn’t much for apologies, so I agreed to do his for him. I am very, so very sorry for how rude I was today, love bug. And Satan is very sorry for being a…what was it? ‘Total fucking asshole?’”

“Watch it, Asmo,” Satan scolded, but his feigned glare quickly turned into a grin at Asmo’s sly giggle.

“It’s okay guys, really. You didn’t have to do all this…” You assured them. You felt sort of guilty to be honest, getting such unusual special treatment from them even if the attention was nice.

“Don’t talk like that love,” Asmodeus replied, “I have no idea what came over us today, but you could at least give us a chance to make up for it.”

“Besides, it’ll give me a chance to make Lucifer look bad, so I’m all in.” Satan joked. He and Asmo both settled in next to you as well.

Leviathan was next, awkwardly standing in the doorway for a few moments before speaking.

“U-Uh, I wasn’t really sure what the state of things would be when I walked in, so—“

He held up the variety of things he had brought, sporting a lopsided smile.

“—I have ear defenders, some chewelry, and that really soft blanket I know you love. Y-You can keep it all for as long as you need.”

Levi knelt in front of you and pushed all the offerings towards you. Your hand hovered over all of them, but eventually you decided on the blanket. You held it close and rubbed it against your face, relishing the blissfully mellow texture and the subtle smell of Levi’s room before wrapping it around yourself.

Levi tried to contain himself, to take time to find the right words the way you’d taught him, but he was so overcome with emotion he couldn’t wait.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry!” He blurted out, louder than he meant to be. “Shoot, sorry…I-I don’t mean to yell, I just feel terrible. I didn’t even realize how mean I was being at the time but then I thought about how awful it would feel if you were saying it to me, and—a-and—“

“Shhh, it’s okay Levi. I’ve already forgiven you.”

This stopped him dead in his tracks. He quickly shut his mouth, looking down at the floor in slight embarrassment. You reached a hand up to gently stroke his cheek as you thanked him for the thoughtfulness he had shown.

Belphegor slinked in a minute or so later, yawning as he greeted you.

“Am I late to the party? Sorry, I was asleep. That was the first nap I’ve managed to have all day. Guess that’s why I was being so cranky…”

Belphegor lazily trudged over, his exhaustion clear on his face as he laid his head in your lap.

“Sorry about that, by the way. Hope you didn’t wanna punch my lights out too badly.”

“Oh come now Belphie, I would never.” You argued, reaching down to scratch his head. He stretched and pushed into the touch, sighing with relief when you found just the right spot. He got comfortable very quickly, almost immediately drifting off to sleep.

There was a sizable gap between Belphie’s arrival and Lucifer’s. He had seen the text when it first came out, but tried to ignore it. When no one, not even Beel came down for dinner, though, he knew he had to go see you. He paced around the kitchen for twenty minutes before finally gathering the courage.

The sound of your door opening made everyone freeze as they looked over. Lucifer’s expression was hard to decipher; you couldn’t tell if he was sad, angry, guilty, or all of the above.

He was silent as he walked over, eyes fixated on you even though you were looking anywhere but him. He knelt down in front of you, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding as he started to speak.

“Human…” He began slowly, feeling the eyes of all six of his brothers, scrutinizing every move he made. He sort of deserved it, though. After such a terrible screw up his apology had to be perfect.

“I’ve come to say that I’m…sorry for how I’ve been acting.”

This made you look up with wide eyes. You expected him to beat around the bush, if you’re being completely honest. You’d heard Lucifer “apologize,” sure, but never once actually say “sorry,” his pride wouldn’t let him.

The most surprising part though, was that he kept going.

“I was dismissive of you all day, and on top of that I yelled at you when you were only trying to help because I always need to do things myself. I’m sorry. You deserve better than that—“

He was cut off when you had suddenly wrapped him in a tight hug, squeezing him with all your might. It took him a few moments to process what had happened, but when he did he hesitantly returned the gesture.

“I forgive you, Luci…” You whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

He patted your back, allowing you to pull away from the hug when you were ready instead of pushing you away. He couldn’t help but gaze into your eyes for a bit longer than he meant to when you withdrew from the hug.

“Alright then,” He began as he stood back up, leaving everyone else quite confused. “We’ve got dinner downstairs that’s going to be cold soon, so how about you all help me bring it upstairs and we’ll eat in here instead?”

“Woah, really?!” Mammon gasped, “You never let us eat in our rooms! Wow, you must feel really shitty!”

This promptly earned him an elbow to the ribs from Asmodeus.

“Don’t worry human, I’ll grab yours for you,” Lucifer said right as you began to stand. “You stay here.”

Each brother gave you a kiss on the cheek as they left, some lingering longer than others. When no one was looking, though, Lucifer pulled you into a real kiss before he too was out the door (though not before flashing you a smile).

You sat there for a while, enjoying the silence and your own company, when you felt your DDD go off. It was a text from Lucifer.

Luci

Hey, just so you know, I got your pasta out of the oven. It was amazing 💙

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skxllz · 5 months

Note

Hi! If I can, I'd like to request something with Carl Gallagher and a fem reader! Can you please write about a mature and slightly stoic reader with two younger siblings, that lost their parents at a young age and she had to be the mother figure in their lives? I really like your writing and I thought you would make it a great short drabble.

(btw, the difference between the reader and her siblings is like, 2-4 years apart. Also, can the siblings be adopted by their really sweet and overprotective aunt? Thanks!)

I'm not sure if this is what you wanted anon but I'm lacking motivation so bear with me 😭

“ what was it like for you growing up? ” carl asked suddenly, his grey-ish blue eyes darting around amongst the night sky.

the two of you had ditched the party in your aunt's house, a celebration for your younger sister who had scored the lead in the romeo and juliet play at school, to lie out on the roof and point out different constellations. although carl didn't know shit about astronomy, you somewhat knew what you were talking about.

the question he asked arose after he explained a situation to you he remembered from when he was younger. involving his brother, some angry asshole and him taking out the guy's leg with the infamous baseball bat they keep on the stairwell of the living room. you managed a small grin from the story, but that was about it.

“ shitty. ” you replied in a short, blank tone. your stare remained on the different stars that lingered in the sky — unfortunately, not so many appeared that night, so you didn't have much to go on.

carl noticed you didn't exactly elaborate on why or how. and, even though he figured it had something to do with your parents not being around, he felt the need to push at it. would that make him an asshole? probably. but he's known you for seven months now and knew little about you, aside from the fact that you're rather... empty- or straightforward? with your responses.

let's just say, you could take shit in a way he never could. he's witnessed you getting yelled at with little to no reaction — if that were him, he'd lose it.

“ uh- ” he cleared his throat, turning to look at you with a lop sided smile. he almost seemed nervous to ask. “ how shitty? ”

you spared him a glance out of the corner of your eye. you seemed annoyed, but in reality, it was just your face- actually, you were surprised carl had the balls to ask. you knew the male was bold, he's shown that many times, but he's also been polite enough not to press into the business of your life.

you're glad he did though, in a way... you kind of wanted to tell somebody.

I mean, it's not like it was a secret. but to just get the weight off would be nice.

so with a sigh, you turned onto your side and tucked your arm under your head; balancing the weight of your head of your fist while you stared the brunette down. “ my parents died when I was little. that's why no one ever talks about them — also why my siblings live here with my aunt. ”

carl's brows shot up at this information, and his eyes slightly widened. “ oh, shit- ”

you cut him off from saying anything sympathetic. “ I had ta’ take care of ‘em when I was only ten. and, yeah I knew how to make ramen in the microwave, but I had no clue how to cook eggs. had no clue how to make acceptable meals for younger children - hell, I was reading out of cookbooks and it was confusing as fuck. ” you blinked away your frustration, ceasing the crease that began to form between your brows “ but I did it. I learned. ”

it was sad, really. listening to you rant on and on about how you had to clean up after them, teach your younger brother how to properly read because the school system wasn't shit. how you had to teach both your siblings how to tie their shoes, comb their hair on their own, prep their own meals as they got older - until finally their aunt stepped up to adopt them out. you were fifteen by then.

she took on you, as well, but you were gone by time your eighteenth birthday came around. of course you checked in with them everyday, but your aunt would always reassure you they were doing just fine and shooed you out.

“ jesus christ, y/n. ” carl mumbled, staring at you with a melted look of sympathy and.. something else. something unspecified. all he knows, it that it reminded him of his situation with fiona and their siblings - only, their parents weren't dead.

you pressed your lips together and averted your gaze to the sky again; once more rolling onto your back, tucking your arms behind your head to get comfortable. “ don't... look ‘t me like that. I'm fine, okay? that's the past. I'm just glad my brother and sister grew up alright. ”

“ but you had to take on a lot- ” carl pointed out with a frown, orbs dancing over your face in sadness. he did not want to see the girl he liked just push this shit off like it was nothing.

“ it's fine. ” you dully croaked, only to clear your throat right after. you refused to give in and tear down any walls that you've built up. “ I'm alright. ”

carl hesitated for a moment, leaning forward as if he were going to hug you- his arm lifted... but then, he lowered it back down to his side. gulping down any words that wanted to leave his mouth out of disagreement. “ alright... but I'm here for you. ”

you didn't reply at first, too caught up in your own head, but you heard him. you absorbed what he said.

and, for just a moment, a real smile lifted to your lips.

“ thank you, ” you mumbled, “ I appreciate it. ”

carl grinned, turning his eyes back onto the sky. “ anytime. ”

#carl gallagher x fem!reader #carl gallagher x reader #carl gallagher blurb #carl gallagher imagine #carl gallagher #shameless #shameless us #shameless us x reader

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kechiwrites · 1 year

Note

instead of verbally apologizing for fucking up the cake reader spent three hours baking, bd ghost holds her down and eats her out from the back :/

im feral for this. further along in their reconciliation methinks. (not so)toxic baby daddy!ghost x reader cw: afab!reader, cunnilingus, fingering, semi public i guess, no gendered terms, mdni

You’re dying. You must be. That ever constant burn in your chest, how your arms shake as they hold you up against your kitchen counter, the way your lungs just can’t seem to hold onto air. It’s all the signs of the last moments of your life, and you’re going to die with Ghost’s mouth pressed to the lips of your pussy through your underwear.

"Wh-what the fuck?" Your foot almost slips in the destroyed birthday cake on the ground, the image of Spider-Man made completely unrecognizable by gravity and Ghost’s propensity to walk silently.

A wrong he means to right by tracing your clit with his tongue, apparently?

“This isn’t going to fix the cake, asshole.” You hiss, covering your mouth when your ex/current/sometimes boyfriend nips at the inner fat of your thigh. You can feel the fabric of your panties stick to your heat, soaked with your slick and his spit, and it’s making you increasingly lightheaded. Beyond the kitchen, Tommy is playing with his friends from the neighbourhood, loudly celebrating his 5th year of existence, the one that quote; “makes me a big kid now!”, with a bouncy castle and a piñata.

And oh, how you wish you could go outside and snap pictures of your precious baby boy laughing and smiling under the sunny sky in your backyard, making memories that’ll last a lifetime. Unfortunately, the father of said baby boy keeps you pinned to the counter top with both hands against your legs while he eats your pussy from the back.

“I’ll get a new one after this.” He murmurs, the vibrations of his voice teasing your clit mercilessly.

“Go now!” You scream-whisper, pushing at his head with your palm, hoping to deter further debauchery.

“Not yet.” He hooks his thumb into the seat of your underwear and pulls it aside before burying his tongue within your folds, fucking into you as hard as he can manage. Your foot slides for real this time and Ghost has to lift one of your legs up so he can get proper access.

Proper access meaning he can brush his tongue over the tight furl of your ass while he slides two fingers into your pussy. The lone leg you're standing on quivers, your knee almost giving out as he expertly drags his fingertips over your g-spot, tonguing where your cunt is stretched around him. It’s not fair, it’s criminal, the way he hums when you shudder a quick, unsuspecting orgasm on his digits, letting him fuck into you deep, while you rock your hips to ride out the feeling. You hang your head low, breathing deep and slow before you let your suspended foot hit the floor again, shifting so he can’t stay inside you.

You arrange your clothes the best you can, shoving at his shoulder as he stays kneeling on the floor.

“Move big-head. Go get a cake, now.” He rises, expression neutral but eyes sparkling like he’d just been fucking knighted.

He hightails it out of your home, but not before peeking his head out of the back door to let your son know he’d be back shortly. You can hear your son’s happy and care-free response when you stoop down to begin wiping smears of icing and sponge off the ground, dropping heavily laden paper towels into the trash. Before he can slip out the front door you shout at Ghost’s back; “Make sure it’s a Spider-Man cake or I will kill you!”

earlier: tommy gets skull facepaint to match his dad :)

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dashofmonsters · 5 months

Text

Dreamers & Delusions- Pt. 1

Male Merman x Female Reader

You didn't like the idea of moving to another state and having to have a new life, but you hated the idea of staying even more so. There was nothing left for you but misery and you were just so tired of it.

When you moved to the west coast to live with your grandmother things seemed different. For the first few months there you felt like you could finally breathe, but that was short lived. Little by little things started to get worse.

First your grandmother kept making little snide remarks about your lack of interest in you not wearing make up. Then your job at the local diner had you working double shifts on the weekend. Your ex blasts some stupid shit about your break up all over social media and two of your close friends ghost you. Oh and then you discover a beautiful little slice of beach.

The last one wouldn't be so bad you tell yourself, if it wasn't for the same old stalking creeps who bother you at work. The only bright side was the mean mugging merman lifeguard who was built like a fucking god and had the attitude to back it up. In short, he's an asshole. But you know the difference between the good, the bad, and I'm just doing my job assholes and he's a weird mix of all three.

At first going to the beach was like free therapy for you. You could relax and get away from your judgmental grandmother and the creepy customers from the diner, it was like heaven. But just like moving here, things got worse over time. Somehow your three stalkers found your slice of heaven. Somehow you couldn't get far enough away from them. Somehow the beach became another slice of hell.

So you decided to sit as close as possible to the lifeguard when you wanted to lounge or swim out as far as possible. And that seemed to work, until today.

"Come on, I'm just asking you to have dinner with me," Kevin hovers over you, his arms crossed like an indignant child.

"For the last time man she's obviously not interested in an asshat like you. She'd rather go for drinks with me," Martin chimes in, his overly tattooed body stinking of cheap cologne and lack of deodorant.

"You two are fucked if you think she's going with either of you. She needs a real man, someone who can take care of her," Sam pushes the two aside and kneels down next two you. "Ain't that right sugar?" The accent, nickname, and bad breath nearly combined has you retching.

That response unfortunately spurred an impromptu fist fight. Kevin and Martin started wailing on Sam and then Sam the fuckboy threw punches filled with sand and Martin got punch so hard he moaned which made Sam hit him below the belt and the-

"I SAID ENOUGH!"

The scene died immediately. The nearly seven or eight foot tall merman lifeguard prowled towards the three idiots and parted them like they were curtains. Sam was the first to flee followed by Martin and Kevin who kicked up a ton of sand as the skedaddled towards the parking lot.

Mr. Asshole lifeguard stares you down hard now, his yellow eyes burning into you.

"Why is it whenever you're on my beach those three headaches are sure to follow?" he asks, very very pissed off.

You've had a similar question come up at work whenever those three would cause a ruckus on your shifts.

You roll your eyes, "Unfortunately some guys don't understand the definition of the word 'No'."

"So that means they have to follow you around like a group of parasites trying to latch at fresh meat?" he asks.

His question throws you off so much and the image it implies makes you giggle.

He's a merman from another realm who's acclimating, I should cut him some slack.

"That uh isn't too far from the truth but in all honesty, they're trying to bother me so much that I eventually have to say yes just to get them to stop bothering me," you explain.

The lifeguard crosses his arms and looks to the ground in serious contemplation before looking back up to you.

"And is this normal courting behavior," he asks.

"Unfortunately it is for some, but it's bad and wrong. For me it's annoying and I get no peace. They bothered me at work and now they bother me here when all I want to do is relax," you sigh, feeling oddly relieved to have gotten this off your chest albeit in an educational way.

"I see," he nods. "So you are not attracted to those parasites?"

"Not. At. All." you nod back.

"Noted," he grimaces and turns to walk back to the guard tower.

"Hey wait! What's your name?" you call out.

"It's Tao," he says, stilling walking towards his destination.

You smile and shout your name back to him but instead of dismissing you like you thought he would he waves back before ascending up the tower.

So it's Mr. Tao, mean mugging asshole lifeguard and crusher of parasites.

~~~~~~~~~

Things seemed calm for the first few days after Tao broke up the fight between the creeps. They didn't pop up at the diner nor at the beach but you still kept close to the guard tower. Well as close as Tao allowed it. He gave you a strong lecture that you needed to sit at least seven feet away from the tower for safety reasons.

Your grandmother even relaxed on her remarks for a little bit but moved from makeup to your weight. Something about working with food adding some extra pounds. It was a new hurt, but you'd numb to it eventually.

Getting numb was your specialty at this point.

And somehow finding new ways to bother Tao, though that was more unintentional. At first it was the sitting too close to the tower, then it was swimming without suntan lotion even though it was cloudy. Then it was not having an umbrella for shade which he oddly enough provided one for you a day later along with a lecture and a half. It would have been super annoying to anyone else but you found it oddly cute.

He'd henpeck at some of the parents over their kids running amuck or scold some of the too rowdy teenagers but no one could say that this guy didn't take his job seriously. No one got hurt or even so much as sunburnt under his watch.

Until they came back.

You had worked a long ass shift Sunday and all you wanted was to go to the beach and lounge. It was a short walk from your grandmother's house and you always enjoyed tuning the world out on that little trek.

It wasn't sunny but it wasn't too cloudy either. It was the perfect day to take a nice beach nap, watch a couple episodes of your favorite cooking shows, and maybe bother your favorite lifeguard for a bit of suntan lotion that you seem to keep forgetting.

You saunter down to the beach and lay out your favorite tie dye towel and stretch. Scanning the scene you notice that it'll be a very very calm day, that is since it's a Monday after all.

As you're about to walk over to the guard tower a familiar and annoying voice stops you.

"Hey babe, it's been a while!"

Ughhh Sam.

You ignore him and keep heading towards the tower. You hear him run towards you so you pick up the pace but are dragged back as he catches your arm.

"It's fucking rude to ignore someone talking to you," Sam spins you around and holds you in place.

"Like you'd fucking listen you fucking parasite. How many times do I have to say no or I'm not interested for you to get it through your thick fucking skull you goddamn idiot!" you yell at him, hoping Tao will hear.

Sam shakes you before jerking you around, "A pretty thing like you shouldn't be talking like that, come on and be sweet."

You start kicking your legs and land squirming violently before headbutting Sam as hard as you can right into his nose. He curses but doesn't let go so you decide to go to bite his hand until you're suddenly being ripped out of his arms.

Thinking it might be Tao you turn to smile only to be assaulted with that nasty cheap cologne smell. You grimace and try to pull away from Martin only to get yanked away by Kevin.

To his credit, Kevin doesn't hold on tight and he actually turns his back to the others before they try to continue their game of tug-a-war with you.

Sam kicks Kevin in the shin but somehow Kevin is able to stand long enough to push you in the direction of the tower. Without saying anything he turns and decks Sam in the face. You're frozen in horror for a moment then turn to run to the tower only to be met with a brick wall called Tao.

"I see the parasites are back on my beach," he seethes before looking you over. He looks furious.

Before you have a chance to say anything he stomps over and grabs Sam by his neck and hoists him in the air. Kevin and Martin fall back on their asses before scrambling to get out of the way.

"When someone says no, they mean no. It is not an invitation to continue your inappropriate courting behavior," Tao tightens his grip around Sam's neck.

"F-fffuck you fish boy. I will get you fucki-ing deported for this! I saw er first," Sam grits as he flails about, face turning all sorts of shades of red.

Tao tosses him to the ground like a ragdoll and before Sam can catch his breath, Tao holds him down by just a foot alone. He kneels down till his knee is almost digging into Sam's throat and says something that makes that asshat still.

You feel your heart still when Tao turns to you and beckons you over. Taking little steps at a time as your feet feel like lead you come to a stop next to Tao and Sam.

Sam is pale as a piece of printer paper.

"Tell her," Tao snaps at Sam.

"I-I-I am sorry. I won't bother you here or at the diner again. I promise you'll never see me again," Sam stutters and shakes like a leaf in a hurricane.

"And?" Tao presses.

"I-I'm a lowly parasite unworthy of your time and presence," he cries.

Tao nods then looks to you, "Anything you want to add?"

You're taken back by the soft look on his hard face. His eyes look worried even though his expression is still pissy offy.

You shake your head and cross your arms to hold yourself.

Tao moves off of Sam and forces him up and threatens to call the cops if he ever shows his ugly face on his beach again. Sam quickly scampers away, tripping several times as he makes his way to the parking lot.

There's a strange numbing feeling building in your chest that is suddenly washed away when Tao gently touches your shoulder.

"Come on, let me go look over those wounds," he nods towards the tower.

All you can do is follow him silently, still shocked about what just happened. You're so used to just going with the flow, dealing with whatever life gives you and fighting when you can. You've never had anyone come to your rescue. Not once.

"I have something that will clean the cuts where they got you with their fingernails and some band-aids. Unfortunately there will still be some bruising from when they were tugging at you," he says, a tinge of regret in his voice.

He leads you to the steps of the tower an has you sit down while he climbs up and grabs his first aid kit. You silently let him fuss over you as you try your best not to cry. Even though it's his job it's the first time anyone has treated you with this much kindness in a long while.

"Thank you," you mutter, finding it hard to speak.

Tao sighs and rubs some more antiseptic ointment on your arm, "I had thought my last conversation with those three would have been the last. Those males really are thick in the skull... I'm sorry."

"Don't be, you still came to my rescue," you try and smile but a stupid tear slips down.

Tao stills his hand, "Did that hurt?"

You shake your head, "No no, just uh got some sand in my eye. I'm fine."

He glares at you but sighs, "Alright then. Try and stay out of trouble and for the love of the goddesses please tell me if those parasites bother you again, in fact tell me if anyone bothers you while on my beach."

"Why?" you ask, feeling a bit strange that he'd go that far for your safety.

"Why?" he repeats, almost not sure of himself. "Because I like peace and you come here bringing chaos, more so than the kids whose parents are stuck to their devices or the teens who shoulder fight in the ocean."

"You mean chicken?" you ask, trying not to laugh.

"Whatever it's called! You humans have a major lack of self preservation and it's a wonder you've lasted this long," Tao stands, sounding frustrated as hell.

You dust yourself off and stand up too, "Well it's a good thing you're here then Mr. lifeguard... Because if it wasn't for you-"

You cut yourself off when the realization finally dawns on you. If it wasn't for Tao, things could have gotten a lot worse, you could have been hurt or dragged off the beach.

"If you weren't here, I might have been hurt a lot worse than just some bruises and cuts," you finish.

"If I got to you sooner you wouldn't be hurt at all," he replies, his face riddled with guilt.

"Yes well, what happened happened but you still saved me so stop blaming yourself for something that was out of your control dammit, " you kick some sand in his direction making him roll his eyes.

"You are too forgiving and far too kind for your own good," he shakes his head.

Too forgiving? No, he did nothing wrong. Too kind, maybe. You always hated confrontation when you could avoid it so you just smiled through things and mustered on. What was the point in getting upset when anger never solved anything.

"You might be right about the kindness thing, but forgiving," you pause to laugh. "I wouldn't say I'm forgiving at all, probably more spiteful if anything."

Yeah that felt right but not in the correct way. If you were going to prove a point it was usually in the worst way possible.

"Noted," Tao raises a jet black brow. He has such an interesting look with his tan skin and white hair with black streaks on one side. It was like if a Hollywood action star and a kpop idol had a baby or something. He has black bands on his arms that start right after his shoulders and stop right above the elbow. His hair is slicked back most of the time but right now it's messed up from his one sided fight with Sam.

"So uh, I'm just going to go back over there and do what I was going to do and relax," you give him your most nervous goofy grin.

Tao, in his ever so Taoness just nods.

~~~~~

True to his word you never saw Sam at the diner again or Martin, but Kevin did come by ever so often. Kevin was less on the creep side now, apparently very very sorry for his behavior and how he made you feel uncomfortable.

It didn't excuse what he did even though he tipped extra now to make up for it whenever he did come in.

Your grandmother though started to get worse again. From your make up, to your weight, and now your resistance to wearing booty shorts to catch a man's eye.

"I'm not going to wear it and that's final. I told you time and time again I'm not comfortable wearing shit like that," you raise your arms and try to stomp off.

"You ungrateful bitch are you afraid of looking like a slut? There are models and actresses who wear this! Are you slut shaming them," your grandmother shouts at you as she practically walks on your heals.

"God no! I just don't want to wear! Can we just drop it please," you beg her.

"I'll drop it once you try it on and walk outside in it for awhile," she tosses the shorts at you and crosses her arms.

"FUCK. NO." you crumple them up and toss them back at her feet.

"You're supposed to humor me remember? That was part of our deal for you to live here," she crinkles her face and slaps your arms.

You crumple back a bit and bite your cheek as you curse yourself for ever agreeing to live with her.

"Not at the expense of my comfort. I'm not your fucking dress up doll," you say through your teeth.

"You're insufferable, fine we'll make a trade deal. Don't humor me, but you owe rent now. two hundred a month. I believe that's more than fair," she throws up her hands and kicks the shorts to the side.

"Fine, that's fine. I can do that much," you exhale in relief. "I gotta get ready for work ok?"

"Yes yes and... I'm sorry, you know I get hot real easy. It's why I'm alone. I just don't want you to be. I just want you to be happy and well," she sighs and picks up the shorts.

"I know," you respond, the numbness starting to set in at her very stereotypical response.

"I love you," she coos as she forces you into a hug.

You give her a limp hug so she won't have something else to bitch about and tell her you love her too.

She's always like this after you two fight, so loving, so caring like she used to be when you were a little kid. She's changed to much after granpop cheated on her. No one saw it coming, they had such a great relationship but that was just what they showed everyone. In private, they both ran hot and your granpop was no saint. He cheated since the dawn of their marriage, he just didn't get caught until ten years ago.

Ever since that happened you tried to keep yourself better guarded so you wouldn't have to hurt like your grandmother. Unfortunately you're a hopeless romantic with a record of getting your heart broken very easily. That's part of the reason for the drastic move.

~~~~~

"Fuck I hate these dead shifts," you groan as you clean your section for the third time this evening.

"Enjoy it while it lasts sweetheart. Once summer hits, you'll be begging for a dead shift," Denise says as she lounges against the door to the kitchen.

"I know, I barely survived the ass end of it," you roll your eyes.

Working here was a breeze to be honest, but working under Mikey the shift manager was hell. He loves playing Russian Roulette with shifts, especially close to holidays or birthdays. Jessica bitched him out so bad in front of everyone that if he scheduled her on her birthday or her son's birthday one more time she would burn this place to the ground.

Needless to say when your ex-wife raises hell to a full diner, you listen.

You've stuck onto her like glue ever since, you needed an angel here.

"Any plans after you cut out," she asks.

Oh yeah, you have plans. Change and skip your happy ass down to visit your favorite lifeguard. You can't help but smile at the thought.

"Mmm you do have plans," she grins back and wriggles her drawn on brows.

"It's not like that," you roll your eyes.

Yes Tao is attractive but you hardly know him. He's nice and predictable. Safe and just wants things to be at peace. He's someone you respect for that for sure, but you can't see yourself crushing over him. It would ruin the faint friendship you've slowly but surely built with him.

"It really isn't it. He's like you. The only other friend I have here and I don't need more than that right now," you explain.

She gives you a sad smile and nods, "I know baby girl, you're still resetting from all that bullshit."

Jessica is the only one who really knows your situation as you spilled your heart out to her a couple weeks ago after she took you out for drinks for your birthday. She held you and patted your head as you ugly cried for a solid hour.

"How about you, anything new and exciting," you quickly change the topic and Jessica beams.

"Oh you know, just a little date with Mr. Perfect," she grins.

"This will be date number five Jes, you're really serious about him aren't you," you tease.

She crosses her arms and tosses her hip a bit and smiles, "Listen, if you asked me a few years ago if I ever saw myself dating a wild fae with a beard that would make every biker in the states jealous then I'd say you're crazy. But here I am, about to go on my fifth date with my wild man and I'm as happy as a bee in a bouquet."

She goes over her past dates with you until Mikey interrupts saying that you both need to get back to work. His interference was cut short by Jessica poking him in the chest and lecturing him about how there's no reason for the diner to be fully staffed during a dead shift and got the both of you off hours early.

"There will come a day when neither of us have to come back to this shithole ran by assholes. Just assume that if I never return that I got swept off my feet to the fae wilds to have crazy hot wild fae sex everyday," she laughs as she shimmies into her leather jacket and lights a smoke away from you.

"And if I never return, assume that I magically saved up enough to start my own restaurant," you smile back.

That's been the big dream. A small tapas style restaurant that catered to humans and the fair folk. There are so few establishments opened that cater to their palettes and it's not fair. Food brings people together and you see it as a great way to mix the fair folk into your world. Problem is, you don't know a lot of fair folk aside from Tao.

Suddenly the lightbulb in your head goes off.

"That's it," you say under your breath before hugging Jessica goodbye and running towards the beach.

I can ask him what he likes to eat and start from there. This is doable! I just hope he doesn't mind playing a million questions.

~~~~~~~~~

"Hey Tao, are you up there?" you shout as you round the tower.

Without so much as a word Tao drops with a sandy thud.

"What did you forget now? It's too dark for sunscreen and too warm for a shawl. Water perhaps?" he guesses and turns to climb back up the tower but you quickly stop him.

"No no, none of that. I uh um... What do merfolk like to eat?" you ask.

"Why do you want to know? Is a male courting you or something?" he asks back.

"What? No no. It's just that one day I want to run a restaurant that serves food for the fair folk and you're the only one I know so...," you shrug to him and he blushes.

This big ass god like brick wall just blushed?

"Ah, I see," he clears his throat. "Well in that case I can create a detailed list of ingredients and dishes that suit a saltwater diet."

"That... That would actually be amazingly helpful. Wow... Thank you!" you grin but then remember that thing about courting.

"So what was that thing you meant when you asked if I was being courted?" you raise a brow.

Tao's eyes go wide and he has this nervous look on his face that you've never seen before. "It's uh, customary for the males of my kind to present a feast to a female they are courting. Usually a female has many suiters and picks whoever has the most impressive spread the privilege to continue courting her."

"Oh, that's interesting. I haven't heard much on mer culture and traditions so this is new to me. I'm sorry if the question made you uncomfortable," you apologize.

"No, no. It's just that no one has asked or even seemed a bit interested in my people's ways. They're just interested in me," Tao waves up and down to himself.

"Well if they were truly interested in you, they'd try to get to know you," you cross your arms, upset for him.

Tao nods and you can tell he's thinking really really hard about something until he shakes his head.

"How can you tell if someone is wanting to get to know you for reasons other than trying to get me to their... uh what is the human word for nest again," he snaps his fingers trying to think.

"Bed?" you ask.

"That's it, how would I know," he repeats.

"Hmm, that can be a tough one. Some people will really put in a lot of effort to make you think that they care when they just one a night of fun. Some will check in on you everyday till they finally get you into their bed and ditch you when they're done," you explain.

Tao looks disgusted, "And this too is normal behavior?"

"For the people who just want a good time and don't give a rats ass about someone's feeling, yes," you grimace.

"Is this from your personal experience or observation," he asks.

Tao's famous curveball question hits you right in the gut. You look away from him and hold yourself for a moment as the numbness builds.

"Yes," is all you manage to say.

"I am sorry. It seems my question was insensitive," he bows.

"It's fine, you're just curious. I'd rather help you not make the same mistakes that I had to. You're like the only other friend I have here," you admit.

Tao looks shocked when you say that, like you slapped him with a wet towel.

"You consider me a friend?" he finally asks after a long moment of silence.

Shifting a bit in the sand you bite your cheek and nod, "You're the only guy friend I have. I feel safe when I'm at the beach and you don't make me feel uncomfortable at all. I just... some things are hard for me to talk about ok?"

He nods and although his expression doesn't change much, there's a brightness in his eyes you've never seen.

"Is that ok? I mean if it's against your culture I understand it can be o-"

"No, it's alright. I just didn't think a human would want to be friends with me," he run his hand through his hair and stares at the ground.

"Well, I mean you do mean mug just about everyone you talk to but I know deep down you're probably just being on your guard and it's hard to be nice sometimes," you tell him.

"I see, so not being expressive keeps people away? Hmm what could remedy this without me having to give up my uh... mean mug," Tao cocks his head and crosses his arms.

"I'm not sure. Most people tend to like it when you're more welcoming and less upset looking all the time. Is your stoicism like some cultural thing?" you ask in turn. Turns out Tao is playing a million questions with you now.

"Yes. Typically we're only expressive with close friends, family, and our mates. They're the only ones who are supposed to see your true face," he replies.

"That actually sound reasonable and nice," you smile.

"Do humans not have something like that," he settles against the tower later, full into the conversation now.

"Yes and no. Some of us rely more on friends than family and vice versa. Some will rely on their mates alone if their family or friends aren't available. It can be all sorts of combinations really," you shrugs and lean against one of the pillars holding up the tower.

Tao looks up thoughtfully before his gaze settles out towards the ocean. There's a comfortable quiet between the two of you as the sun sets behind a cluster of grey clouds.

"Looks like rain," you comment.

"It's been smelling like a set of storms all week. Probably about to usher in some cold weather," Tao sniffs the air and sighs.

"Not a fan of the cold?" you shift in the sand and turn a little more towards Tao.

He shakes his head, "I grew up in a much warmer climate. If it ever got too cold we would sleep in our clusters or migrate. I can't do either here so I've just been adding more layers to my nest with every paycheck I get and buying the warmest clothes that fit me."

"I gotchya. I like some good mild weather myself. Not too hot or cold. By the way what will you do once winter hits? Beaches are usually closed once winter hits," you ask, realizing you might have to find another safe haven of sanity during that time.

"I'm not too sure, I haven't given it much thought," he admits. "At least I have a little time to consider a winter job so I don't have to hibernate."

"Yeah that would be... wait what?"

Part. 2>

#monster boyfriend #monster x girl #monster x human #monster x reader #monster lover #merman #Tao the merman #merman x reader #monster romance #merman boyfriend #monster love #merman x female reader #monster boyfriend oc #monster bf #slow burn #slow burn romance

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sunlightmurdock · 8 months

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jake has been trying to bed from the hard deck for months now and how are you supposed to resist that man for so long. but being the absolute asshole that he is your apprehensive that he’s going to be rough or uncaring in bed and he picks up on it right away and shows you just how much of a texas gentleman he can be. 😙

“Did your date stand you up?”

You close your eyes and curl your fingers around the stem of your glass, trying your best not to do your biggest, most irritated sigh.

When you open them again, he’s unfortunately still there. Toothpick between his lips, he grins at you.

“Can’t imagine why, darlin’ — you’re such a ray of sunshine, after all.” He teases.

Jake has been trying to fuck you for months. It’s been like this the whole time. You denying his advances, the two of you mocking each other in response. Until tonight when, unfortunately, your date did stand you up. And he’s there. And he already has a tab running behind the bar, so you let him buy you a drink. Just one drink.

Apparently when you’re feeling this low, that’s all it takes. You both know exactly what it means when you ask him to walk you home. But, he’s handsome and you’ve seen his muscles on more than one occasion — you can put up with a quick, rough fuck. It’ll get your mind off of tonight.

So, when you’ve got him in your bedroom and pulling your shirt over your head, you’ve got a good idea of what to expect.

“Can you stop looking at me like I’m gonna tell you to shut up and bend over? — It’s putting me off my game.” Jake mumbles unhappily, fingers trailing your bare waist with one hand as his other scoops your hair away from his neck so that he can lean forwards and kiss your throat.

“C’mon, Hangman, you don’t need to pretend you’re a gentleman. I know you, remember.” You scoff, reaching down to unbutton his shirt, leaning your head back so that he can continue to kiss your neck. He’s good at that. But, a talented mouth isn’t enough to impress you yet.

Jake pulls back and looks at you, brows knitting together as he gives a small shake of his head. He scoffs. “Pretend? — Sweetheart, you wouldn’t know a gentleman if he was standing right in front of you.”

Wow, his mouth really is talented. Closing your eyes, you lean your head all of the way back and sigh happily as he sucks a deep kiss into the curve of your shoulder. But, the bickering doesn’t stop there.

It still hasn’t stopped when he’s got you completely out of your clothes and his broad shoulders keeping your thighs apart, his green eyes staring up at you.

“So, what makes a guy a gentleman, huh? — If you’re such an expert?” Jake questions as two of his fingers trail an intricate path through your folds, being careful to graze your clit every now and again but not enough to be satisfying. He’s the only guy in the world who would dare to ask that while he’s nestled between your legs.

“Putting his lady first. Not being an arrogant asshole. Complicated stuff, Hangman — wouldn’t expect you to get it.” You shrug, closing your eyes as he leans forwards and presses his open mouth eagerly to your soaked core.

Hangman, as it turns out, is full of surprises. After he has made you cum twice on his tongue, which it turns out is just as talented between your legs as it was against your neck, he’s cocky enough to sit back on his knees, wrap a hand around his cock and tell you to ask for it nicely.

Then, you’re annoyingly delighted to learn that his tongue is most definitely not the most talented body part that he’s got. Whimpering into his neck, grabbing desperately at his thick shoulders and squeezing your legs around his hips, your mind blanks on what it was that ever made you dislike him in the first place.

Even more annoyingly, he peppers your shoulders, your forehead, your jaw with kisses as the two of you come down from your highs. He grabs a damp cloth and cleans the mess from your body gently and hands you a glass of water that he had grabbed from the kitchen.

“So, how about you let me show you how a real man takes a lady on a date?” He smiles at you, pulling his boxers up around his hips as you sit, still trembling in your bed.

#jake seresin #thots night (:#jake hangman seresin #Jake Seresin x reader #Jake Seresin smut #Jake Seresin x you

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caligvlasaqvarivm · 19 days

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Granted the possibility that Eridan, Vriska and Aradia could be friends, by extension, could Eridan have the possibility to become friends with Tavros?

Unfortunately, no 😔 and what it comes down to is this: Eridan is REALLY STRESSFUL to be around if you aren't Karkat (even for people who like him, which is why such an important quality in his platonic friend group is an ability to set and maintain hard boundaries), and Tavros is REALLY BAD at dealing with stress.

Tavros often gets mischaracterized as being really sweet and kind, and I think that's a little south of where he actually is. His main character trait is avoidance, not acceptance. When the going gets tough, Tavros gets going, either physically (leaving Vriska to bleed out, or ghosting Gamzee after being put off by his offer to make out a little, or blocking Dave after getting scared by his sexual remarks) or mentally (his reliance on his imaginary friend, and the way he turns to them for comfort while being tormented by Vriska). He doesn't actually LIKE Vriska at all, and is actually pretty vocal about DISliking her, but he's too afraid of real confrontation to actually mount a resistance until well after it's too late, resulting in his death.

He's still a lot nicer than most of the trolls, but it's a low bar. And he deserved to be treated better, but that's also all of them. Let's not forget that once he really grows a spine after being combined with Vriska for a little bit, he flips her off. Even then, however, his response to things he doesn't like is still, like. Leaving. Growing a spine just lets him actually do that, instead of meekly expressing that he would like to, and then getting bullied into not.

And Eridan is just stressful to be around. He's basically a weeping geyser of emotional sincerity and neediness 24/7. Even the people in his life that like him need to set and maintain hard boundaries with him so they don't exhaust themselves, and this is even true of his romantic interests (with the exception of Karkat). Even Roxy gets stressed by him, even if it's good stress (excitement, fun).

And the thing is, even at his absolute best, most therapized, Eridan is still going to be the team's Murder Advocate. More intimately than anybody else, he understands the connection between sacrifice, duty, and the greater good. A lot of people seem to think Eridan's ultimate character arc should lead to him refuting violence, but I disagree; there are times where violence, and even murder, are necessary (for an easy example, killing Condy, and for a very personal example, killing lusii/trolls so his species/friends could stay alive). He's the teammate that reminds the rest of the team that violence and murder are viable, and sometimes the only, option; who offers to do the dirty work himself and shoulder that burden; and who has a powerful driving force of duty, responsibility, and - that most hopeful of qualities - CONVICTION.

His character arc doesn't lead to him refuting his prior beliefs, but gaining clarity on them: exactly what he believes in and why, disentangling it from his shitty society and the expectations it placed upon him. This inevitably leads to him having a very strong personality that clashes with a lot of his teammates, even post-character development, and unfortunately, Tavros is one of them.

So if we're talking Tavros before he grows a spine - they would definitely not be friends. Eridan would be able to trap Tavros into conversation, but if Tavros already doesn't like Vriska for being an asshole with empathy problems, there's no way he'd like Eridan, who's that turned up to eleven. I mean, let's be real, do you think Eridan "refuses to have fun and is also a hipster and also phrases things in a hostile and aggressive way as a default" Ampora would not wind up 1) insulting fiduspawn, 2) insulting tinkerbull/bringing up that he kills lusii regularly and that Tavros is really lucky tinkerbull is so small because it made them not a target, and/or 3) insulting Tavros for his spinelessness in an effort to pitch flirt, or even just as a factual observation?

And if we're talking Tavros after he grows a spine, all that would change is that he'd voice outright that he doesn't really like Eridan and doesn't want to talk to him. And then leave, probably.

And that'd be a problem for Eridan, before or after his character development, because he desperately craves attention, and Tavros's whole thing is avoiding the stuff he doesn't like. This is also why he wouldn't get along particularly well with people like Sollux or Equius; they don't really give him attention, good OR bad, and either tell him to fuck off, or fuck off themselves. Let's remember how Vriska ghosting him on accident led to him having an anxiety episode where he beats himself up for being SO STUPID!!!!!!! People who don't really like him and simply withhold attention from him are the people he feels the worst interacting with.

And that's BEFORE Gamzee gets added to the mix LOL

#eridan ampora #homestuck #tavros nitram

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wannaeatramyeon · 1 year

Note

The Yakuza daughter! S/o x Gun basically made me fangirl as I imagine them being a power couple lol. I now wonder if you got part 2 in that like Goo just discover Gun ring on his hand and a photo of his fiancée/wife in his photo (I just imagine that he took a photo of s/o in a lingerie lol)

Ughhhh Sam, this idea is too fun. Here's a much much quicker follow up with a lot less Yakuza-ness (sorry 🙇🏻‍♀️).

Gun Park x Reader: After I do (feat Goo)

Goo finds out. Follow up to 'I do' fic here

"How was Japan?"

Goo watches Gun washing the blood from his hands. Something about Gun has changed. He seems... different. Goo couldn't quite put his finger on it. Maybe it was Japan. Maybe it's the guy just being a freakshow as per usual.

Gun side-eyes him. The response is clipped, short, singular.

"Fine."

"Not like you to take an extended leave."

"..."

The lack of answer doesn't deter Goo, all too used to his partner's silence. "Business or personal?"

"..."

"Anything I should worry about?"

"..."

"Are you planning anything?"

"..."

"Did you pick up my Sanrio-"

Gun thrusts his hands in the dryer, the blasts of air drowning out Goo's incessant questioning. Unfortunately, this doesn't last long enough. Nothing ever does once the blonde's curiousity is piqued.

As soon as the whirring stops, Goo opens his mouth once again and Gun finally responds. "No, no and no. Shut up."

Hmph. Looks like Goo won't get anything else from this asshole. With a glint in his eye, he asks his final question, "You owe me for covering your duties. Was Crystal always this annoying?"

Gun reluctantly smiles. "Yes."

"What does our big bad boss want?"

Gun scans his phone. The message from just moments ago wasn't anything of significance to their mission. Although. The selfie of you in a seductive pose and risque underwear might be a distraction.

He appreciates it for a beat longer then locks the device. "It's not our boss."

That's the end of that conversation. Or so he thought.

"Huh?" Goo's eyes dart over to him with increasing frequency and the car starts to swerve.

Gun will not die by his hand because this fucking maniac can't keep his eyes on the road. Begrudgingly, he elaborates, "It's personal."

The blonde's eyes bulge out at this admission, "During work hours? Who wants to text a mean bastard like you?"

For fuck's sake. Can't this fucking idiot ever mind his own business.

Goo continues, "Who the hell would even want to be friends with you? I hope you're not plotting anything against me..." A malicious snicker, "Or are you dating? You should introduce me to them, they must be a firecracker!"

Gun tunes out his partner, a skill he has long mastered.

But when his phone buzzes for the third time in as many minutes, with you no doubt sending yet another racy image, Gun has to physically restrain himself from looking (and internally curses you for your poor timing).

Goo tries to swipe at the phone. "Hey, let me text back!"

Gun moves it effortlessly out of arm's reach. "If you're not going to keep those eyes on the road, then I can just pluck them from your head."

"You're no fun." Goo pouts, narrowly missing driving into a ravine.

"Oppa~ do you want a bite of this sushi?"

"No."

"Are you sure? It's really delicious!"

"..."

"Just a little taste!"

"Come near me again, I'll jam the sushi and the chopsticks down your throat."

"Ahhh~! Goo, your friend is so mean!"

What the fuck? Gun seems to be in an even more sour mood than usual. The last time the both of them were at this Gangnam bar, Gun had no issues with the women. Someone to warm his bed for the night, he had figured.

This evening though? He didn't even bat an eyelid in their direction.

"Gun! You can at least be nice to these sweethearts!" Goo snaps.

"No." Gun replies simply, getting up to leave.

What a fucking weirdo, Goo thinks. Oh well, more sushi for me.

"Since when did you wear jewellery?"

Goo snatches Gun's left hand, pulling it up to his face and holding it so close he is cross-eyed behind his glasses.

He absolutely has not seen this before, his brows furrow at this very odd addition. A plain, silver-coloured ring wrapped around the fourth finger.

Yanking his hand back, Gun responds. "Since I want to."

"A plain ring? On that finger?" Goo trails after him as he strides off, "You know what that means right? Wait..."

Goo completely stops in his tracks, "A couple band? Engagement? Are you...?"

Gun completely ignores him, increasing the distance between them.

No fucking way, right? The simple band on his hand is definitely something, but-

There's just-

No. fucking. way.

Who the fuck would be able to put up with Gun Park?

"Who's that?" Goo peers at the picture of the smokeshow on Gun's phone, catching a glimpse just before he tucks it into his pocket.

Having that image is certainly... a choice. Who is she though? A new k-pop idol? Gun doesn't seem like the type that would have an image of an idol or a celebrity as their background.

"My wife."

"WHAT THE FUCK?"

"Focus." Gun commands, as a gang of men come at them with knives and baseball bats.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" Goo repeats, ducking to avoid a slash.

"I said, focus." Gun easily tanks a couple hits before returning some of his own.

"WHAT THE-" Goo's words are cut short as some thug takes advantage of his diverted attention and knocks his glasses off.

"FUCK- Fine." Goo elbows the guy in the solar plexus then easily plucks the baseball bat from his now slack grip. "Let me just borrow this~"

"You must be Goo Kim!"

Turning on the hostess charm, you note how Goo has to almost literally pick his jaw off the floor with your entrance.

Gun leans against the doorframe, observing with quiet smugness at the reaction. You had dropped in at the HNH offices to join Gun for lunch. Usually he would pick a better time and place but the level of questioning from Goo had already surpassed absurd levels ever since he found out Gun was married.

The last few weeks had been hell.

"When did you get married?! You didn't invite me to the wedding? I wasn't your best man? Tell me, who was it! I'll beat them up! When can I meet your bride? Or are you scared I'll charm her away?"

And Gun had promised you a partnership of equals. With your short time in South Korea, you had more than enough proved your usefulness and loyalty. It's about time he cuts you in on the Crew business.

He surmises this is a way to kill two birds with one stone.

You're Gun's wife? This absolute knockout? With him? That fucking boring asshole?

Goo would have thought this is Gun's twisted idea of a prank if he hadn't found out that the guy barely had a sense of humour a long time ago. That time had almost ended in stitches for Goo.

"Mrs. Park!" He gives you a theatrical bow, "I've been so looking forward to working with you!"

"Just call me Y/N," you giggle.

Goo takes your hand, pressing a loud smooch to the top of it. Gun's entire body tenses at the contact. This does not go unnoticed by you.

You retract your hand back, subtly wiping the kiss away, "I can't wait to get stuck into all the details."

"Of course, Y/N!"

"There won't be any trouble from you, right, Goo?"

"Princess, don't you trust me?"

You look Goo dead in the eye, seeing through the fake hurt on his face and dropping your own act.

"No. And," you grab onto his crotch, digging in your nails as Goo yelps, "If there is even a whiff of anything amiss then I'm coming after your balls." Your grip tightens as he tries without success to push you off, "Got it?"

"ACK!! Fuck! Got it, got it!"

You release him, relishing at his squeal.

"If you've broken anything," Goo scowls, struggling to stand and cradling himself tenderly. "Ugh, you two are fucking made for each other. Psychos."

Gun arrives at your side with a smirk, he guides you by the small of your back, leading you out.

"Not bad," he murmurs into your ear, "You were wasted in Japan."

#sorry goo my poor baby #lookism #lookism x reader #lookism headcanons #lookism hc #lookism fic #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #gun park #gun park x reader #park jonggun x reader #park jonggun #goo kim #kim joongoo #wannaeatramyeon

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rosiehrs · 1 year

Text

↳ ❝ FANWARS | 47. uh oh (written)

word count ; 1.4k [not proofread]

you sat on your front porch, patiently waiting for yunjin to arrive. you knew the girl was still learning how to drive and you’ve heard stories from eunchae about ‘near-death experiences’ they’ve had from her driving. you were quite confident that you’d be a better driver, even without having a single driving lesson. 15 minutes had passed and you were still waiting for the american girl to show up, you felt your heart start to hurt from the lack of money you’d end up with after this outing - coming to terms with the fact that you’d probably have to buy everyone lunch. just as you were about to head back inside, a car pulled up in front of your house.

“get in!” yunjin greeted as she rolled her window down. she looked uneasy like she had just survived death. (which she did)

looking down to hide the grin on your face, you got into the passenger’s seat wordlessly. she turned her head to look at you and felt herself calm down, with that - she turned her head back to the road and started driving.

the ride was awkward and silent, neither of you knowing how to break the ice. yunjin felt disappointed with herself, why couldn’t she say anything to you? where did her confidence and charm go? on the other hand, you were enjoying how tense she was, you noticed the way her knuckles turned white as she gripped the steering wheel and how she gulped every time she stole a glance at you from the rearview mirror. you laughed softly as she cursed at the driver in front of her.

“you look good.” she finally spoke breathily, letting go of the breath she had been holding. looking out the window to hide the smile on your face, you replied, “thanks..” awkwardness took over the air and you decided you should probably help ease your driver. “you look good, too, asshat.”

blood rushed to her face as she heard your words, clearing her throat she muttered a quiet thanks.

“you know you never got back to me about that one night.” you started nonchalantly.

“what night?”

“the night you asked me if i liked yuna.”

yunjin’s ears perked up at the mention of your conversation. “i’m, uh- it was nothing.” you scoffed at the american, flicking her thigh. “you’re a shitty liar, i asked you what you meant and you just ignored me.”

“i don’t wanna talk about it.” yunjin hissed, stepping on the gas. “yeah, you never want to talk about anything.”

her eyebrows furrowed at your response, “what’s that supposed to mean?” she replied, sounding offended.

“it means you’re the reason our relationship hasn’t gone anywhere.”

with that, jennifer lost concentration on the road and lost grip of the steering wheel, “our what?!”

quickly, you placed your hands over hers, urging her to keep her hands on the wheel. “yunjin! eyes, hands and mind on the road, you fucking idiot!”

“well you can’t just spring that out on me and expect me not to react!”

“i didn’t mean that kind of relationship, you twat! i meant like a friendship!”

the shock you were both feeling had distracted you from the fact that your hands were still over hers. yunjin felt her face heat up as she briefly looked down at the wheel. “then be clear about it, you asshole.”

“my god, you’re insufferable.” you huffed, letting go of her hands and crossing your arms in your seat. “you know, you’re so lucky you’re attractive. i would’ve absolutely murdered you, but unfortunately i like looking at your face.”

jennifer choked on air hearing your words, “i- bro shut the fuck up. you’re not the one who’s supposed to be having rizz here. pretend i’m the one who said that.”

“you’re stupid.”

“and you’re weird.”

“no, you know what’s weird? driving with no music, who are you? even my grandpa listens to music while driving.”

“can you shut the fuck up? it’s so i don’t get distracted and die!”

“oh right, cause you don’t have a license. how could i ever forget? nice to meet you, by the way, rachel.”

“hey, at least i’m learning! i’m not the passenger princess here.”

the awkwardness was easily left behind as the both of you spent the whole ride arguing, neither of you forgetting to drop flirtatious comments every now and then.

you walked to the restaurant you all agreed to eat at (eunchae’s choice), giggling to yourselves after a silly comment yunjin made. as you walked in, eunchae’s ears perked up at the sound of your laughs.

“unnis, unnis, unnis!!! someone record this now! me! i’ll do it!” she excitedly spoke, taking her phone out and pressing record immediately. the rest of the group turned to eunchae’s point of view, understanding why the youngest was so happy.

“holy shit, me too - i need this.” yujin said before taking her phone out.

“oh em gee, they’re so cute!!” hanni happily commented, clapping her hands at the pair.

the two of you were still lost in your conversation and hadn’t see your friends’ table. “over here, lovebirds!” chaewon called out, catching your attention. you felt your face warm up and yunjin’s face evidently reddened. you made your way to them and sat down opposite each other without commenting on what she had just called you.

“unnis! you came together? how? when? why? what happened?” eunchae immediately interrogated, causing you to laugh. “ah, yunjin picked me up.”

“she drove here?!”

“she picked you up?!

“y/n, are you okay?! did you guys get here safely?! why didn’t you just call us?! i would’ve picked you guys up!” sakura worriedly went on, checking if you were injured and then scolding yunjin afterwards. “jennifer, you don’t have a license! you nearly crashed the last time you drove!”

“unni, i know. don’t worry! we’re fine and we’re here! see, i’m not so bad.”

“yeah, other than the time you nearly swerved into another lane and got us killed on the way here.”

“WHAT?!”

everyone watched happily as the two of you interacted well. eunchae couldn’t wipe the huge and adorable smile off her face as she watched the both of you talk and laugh. she never thought seeing the both of you would bring her so much joy, but at that point - she just wished you got married right then and there.

as you talked about something funny that happened with yujin and zuha - yunjin kept her eyes on you and found herself listening intently. her smile widened as you laughed at the memory of yujin making a fool of herself and yujin trying to defend herself saying it wasn’t as bad as you were making it seem.

she didn’t realise how much she loved seeing your smile or hearing your laugh - but now that she knew, it’s all she wanted to hear and see. she felt nothing but warmth in your presence and it gave her more of a reason to be around you.

after eating lunch, the group collectively decided to split up as everyone wanted different things for dessert. “y/n/n, what do you want?” zuha asked.

y/n was looking down at her phone, typing away. “huh? oh, i might go get cream puffs from that one place downstairs.”

“i want donuts, all my donuts girls rise!” eunchae said, bringing her fist up. the group laughed at manchae’s tactics and decided on the groups they’d go in.

“ah, i’m gonna make a quick stop before i get dessert. i’ll catch up with you guys though yeah?”

“sure, y/n. just update us, okay?” you smiled and nodded at sakura before walking off, head still looking down at your phone.

yunjin stared at you with curiosity, but thought not to question it.

yunjin and chaewon went down to get ice cream and the rest split off to get donuts.

chaewon and yunjin were bickering about something until they stopped by a clothing shop they were immediately intrigued by. yunjin was busy looking in the shop as chaewon stood outside. she looked out and saw you in the distance. “oh, there she is. what is she-”

her voice got caught in her throat as she saw another figure with you.

“is that-” then the next second, the person placed their hands on your cheek and connected your lips into a kiss.

“oh my god,” she turned around with the intention of dragging yunjin away before she could see, but she bumped into the girl standing behind her.

“yunjin,” she started apologetically. the said girl stood there, watching you with blank eyes. she blinked a few times before looking down at chaewon.

the warmth she said she felt around you had slowly begun to disperse, instead it was replaced with something colder, something grey.

“did, uh, should we go get that ice cream?”

previous | masterlist | next

SUMMARY - yunjin (an army) and y/n (a blink) have fallen into the stereotype of not being able to get along, continuously starting fanwars- but only with each other..?

a/n - THE END WAS SO DRAMATIC FOR NO REASON, IM THROWING UP

+ taglist !! (send an ask to be added) @invusblog @yumtooki @babycubchae @fav9yu @en-chantedtomeetyou @kittyeij @captivq @elyds @skisk1 @sserafimez @silantryoo @baerinaa @lizseos @ahnneyong @diestheticu @falling-intoo-deep @misumiausworld @luvkait @lcv3lies @wonyoungsvirus @lost-leopard-beanie @doitab @dexthzone @https-f4iryjin @juhyunsthirdwife @luvvbugs @huhjxn @soobstvrs @lil-tigers-world @myothegreat @pretty-pretty-ela @xuimhao @nshimura @kikelikesmc @cwpiqwon @j-wyoung

#huh yunjin x reader #yunjin x reader #le sserafim x reader #kpop x reader #fanwars smau

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bisexual-horror-fan · 8 months

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Then just for fun you take your tongue and run it over my lip | And gotta love the way she does it for the hell of it | We're in positions that most people only say they know | Rub it right up, against my body | You got your hand on a landmine, ready to blow |But the devil can hear you when you say... | C'mon and get up (get up), move your body |Use your body, lose control. |Use my body, make it yours (So get up) | We're gonna light this room on fire | Ya, you and I will burn it up tonight (so get up) | The two of us will fuel this fire | No way in hell we're slowing down tonight

And! Belly button shots with that slutty ass tattoo.

Smut? Implication? Sex dancing?. Edging? That's up to you. I am here to just proved a muse not a direct request.

Well, well, well, Lorde! Thank you so much for giving me the in for write for Darry Jenner for the first time! I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it! And now this is officially the last fic of my 20s! A weird and fun smutty fic of an underrated character, how on brand! Let’s get into it, yeah?

—

Rating. Explicit. Length. 3.1K. Darry Jenner X GN! Reader. No Pronouns Or Parts Specified. Warnings: Teasing. Alcohol Consumption. Partying. Body Shots. Mild But Playful Slut-Shaming (Darry Is The Slut Here.). Making Out. Grinding. Hand Job. Blow Job. Throat Fucking. Edging. Sex. Riding. Banter. Reader Is Kinda An Asshole But It’s Fun.

—

“Who’s The Real Slut Here?”

—

It’s Friday night, you are in college and so naturally you are out at a party, decently full of people, music playing at a healthy volume and your classmates drinking and making merry, excited the school week was done. You were of course among them, with the same idea in mind, of cutting loose and forgetting your stress, and you were well on your way to do that. You’d been here for around an hour, hadn’t really run into anyone you knew super well, but that was fine, you were enjoying milling and mingling.

Currently making your way to the living room, looking around distractedly at the goings-on, people dancing, mingling, talking, in the early stages of hooking up, Hell, who knows, maybe you’ll find someone to grind up against yourself.

That train of thought is quickly abandoned as another body collides into yours, shoulder to shoulder, and sharp contact with a small jolt of pain sends your body turning expectedly and unfortunately makes you drop your drink. You were drinking out of the natural party classic, a red solo cup, so broken glass wasn’t a concern, but the sticky and sweet mix of fruit juice, carbonation and alcohol spills over your shoes all the same.

Eyes drop with a disgusted sound, your shoes are fairly waterproof so your socks getting wet isn’t a concern, but your shoes are going to be tacky and gross, you just know it. You feel annoyance and anger bubbling until you hear the frantic and rushed, “Oh my God, I am so sorry.”

You had a response on your tongue, ready to snark out something close to, “Yeah you better be!” with a healthy amount of venom, but when your eyes raise to look at your assaulter in the face that quickly proves to be a difficult task. You become distracted by dark brown eyes and soft looking black hair, his face tinged with worry and what looks like genuine remorse, pink lips parted and hands up, it makes what was meant to be a bitchy barb melt into, “Yeah, you’re okay, I mean, it’s okay.”

“God, no it’s not, looks like that was full-” You cut him off with a smile, anger was forgotten, “Really, it’s okay.”

“At least let me get you another drink? For my conscience if nothing else.” He is very sweet, reads as honest, earnest. You agree and say, “Yes, okay, I can let you do that.”

He finally smiled, slow and more beautiful than it had any right to be. You and he make your way to the kitchen and once in there and in front of the drink station you both notice that there are no cups. He says, “I think there are some on the top shelf of this cupboard, hold on-”

“How do you know that?” You ask, and he says as he opens the doors, “Oh, my friend lives here.”

He reaches up to the aforementioned top shelf, rooting around for the cups, and you are just watching him, eyes move down his body and in the process of him stretching. His shirt rides up and you of course stare at the newly revealed skin, what you find there makes you gasp before laughing out, “Woah! Slut alert!”

He pulls the cups down, jaw dropped open as he says, “Excuse me?”

You respond enthusiastically with a point to him as you say, “You! I just realized, you’re a slut.”

The cupboard doors are closed, an eyebrow raised as he asks, “What makes you say that?”

You take the two strides forward to be within touching range, and you reach out, fingers hook in the hem of his shirt, and you yank it up and point to his tattoo with your other hand. “This! Look at this shit, guys who aren’t sluts do not have little whoreish rose tattoos like this!”

“Christ! You’re being awfully forward for someone I just met.” He smacks your hand away and smoothed his shirt back down into place, and you laugh again, “I notice you aren’t disagreeing with my assertion.”

He argues with you as the package of new red solo cups was torn open and one was retrieved, “Didn’t think I had to! I think it’s obvious I’m not a slut.”

You watch as he plucks up one cup and sets it down ready to finally make you that drink, but you aren’t concerned with that anymore, instead you asked, “Oh yeah? Wanna bet?”

“Seriously?” Was his deadpanned reply.

“Yeah, let's ask ten people, if more than five agree with me that you are a total tart based off your tattoo, I win, and if less than five agree that you are not a slut, you win, and I’ll drop it.” You explained quickly, a wide grin overtaking your face.

He looks considering for a moment before asking, “What do you want if you win?”

You push his shoulder playfully as you ask, “C’mon, where’s the fun in that if I tell you upfront?”

A roll of his eyes as he crosses his arms over his chest, the small smile on his face as well as his tone tattles on the fact he is amused however, attempt to fix your drink abandoned, consumed in the current ridiculous conversation, “If you don’t tell me I won’t do it.”

You groan and kick the kitchen island you were next to, “Fine. Spoilsport. How about…” You look him over and then grin lewdly as the thought comes to you like lightning,, “A body shot.”

He laughs with a shake of his head, eyes drop to the floor as he shrugs and says, “Fine. You’re on.”

You shake on it, eye contact reestablished, and the game was on.

Your hand on his wrist, you start to lead him around the party. The routine went as follows, you walk up to a person, ask if they are down to participate in settling a bet you were both in, if they said yes, you would be showing him off. You would lift his shirt excitedly, or he would be reluctantly tugging it up himself to show it off until ten people later you were saying positively giddy, “Seven out of ten college party goers agree! You are a slut.”

He sighs and asks quietly, “What shot are you doing off me?”

To you, there was only one answer possible.

“The classic naturally. Tequila.”

Soon enough he is splayed across a table that is normally used for beer pong, currently in between games, and you are setting him up. He’d taken his shirt off before laying down, you rubbed the wedge of lime on him, the space of his belly button now slick and salt sprinkled, your other hand gripping the bottle of tequila you’d already taken the cap off of, you tip it and poured the liquid into the hollow of his belly button. He shivers and squirms slightly, some spills, overflows, and you chide him, “Fuck, stay still!”

Before he can retort, you’d taken that same lime wedge and placed it in his mouth, rind side down towards him, flesh of the fruit upturned. The bottle is set down and you make your move.

You lean down, one hand on his jean clad thigh, higher than it needs to be, fingers curling over the curve of his thigh, your mouth is close enough. Your lips latch, and you drink from him, tongue dips in, and you eagerly lap up the burning alcohol before you swirl along the perimeter and over that same tattoo that set this bet in motion. Next your tongue turns upwards, passing over warm skin and his firm toned stomach, catching the salt you sprinkled before.

Afterwards you are pulling up and with one smooth stride, fingers trailing up his bare torso as you go, your other hand descends onto his forehead. Your fingers run through dark hair, a and you leaned down, you give him a ghost of a kiss as you steal the lime wedge, you linger longer than necessary, if he wanted and responded fast enough he could have kissed you, but he was too shocked. You are pulling back up, your fingers come up too, and you bite down, sucking the acidic delight back. Clean rind is pulled away, and you look down at him, stomach wet and lips shiny, staring up at you, and you say, “I realize something.”

He sounds just a little out of breath as he asks, “What’s that?”

“I never got your name.”

He realizes that’s true. A small cock of his head as he tells you, “Darry. My name is Darry.”

You toss the rind of the lime wedge aside, and you tell compliment him, “Well, Darry, I have got to say, at least you are a man of your word. You have follow through.”

He sighs and holds one hand out, “Gee thanks, wanna help me up?”

You do so, gripping his hand and pulling him to sit up and get off the table. He goes to put his shirt back on, but grimaces, “I feel all sticky now.”

Taking in the sight of the hardwood and sturdy table that was covered in a million rings from never having seen a single coaster but cups upon cups of drinks and who knows how many spills your expression mimics his, “Yeah, that table was not clean, c’mon, let’s go to the bathroom, I’ll help you clean up.”

Soon you are standing in the ensuite bathroom attached to the master bedroom. You aren’t supposed to be in here, it is supposed to be off limits, but you’ve always been a rule breaker, haven’t you?

You are cleaning him up, warm and damp wash cloth running over his back, and you say, “So why don’t you think you’re a slut?”

“Cuz I’m not one?”

“Are you sure? Letting me parade you around the party like I did, letting me do a body shot off you like that, I mean fuck, dude, I tongue fucked your belly button before you told me your name. Seems pretty whore like to me.” You teased playfully, and he laughs shocked, seemingly speechless.

You asked, “What do you think?”

He takes a deep breath before, sighing out, “I think no matter what I say, you are gonna think I’m a whore.”

You finish cleaning him and are wringing out the cloth into the sink and shrug, “Maybe, maybe not.” He catches your eyes in the mirror. He is staring. You stare back.

You turn and there is this tension. You break it by dropping the cloth and flicking some water onto his still bare chest, a challenging raise of your eyebrows asking, “What are you gonna do about it?”

And you get what you want.

He wants to put you in your place, wants to shut you up, but mostly you think, he just wants to, and so he makes the first move. His hands on your arms, pulling you closer and taking that single step, and he kisses you.

The make out is speedy.

A brief thought flits through your mind, that you were getting just want you wanted out of tonight, fun, relaxation, a few good drinks and getting to hook up with someone. You are feeling bold, and you think he wants it, you test the waters, you feel him up, hands over bare and exposed skin, and he doesn’t shy away, no he leans in closer, eager.

You suppress a smile as you deepen the kiss, one hand is on the back of his neck, the other running over the expanse of his chest and one leg hooks over his hip as you grind on him. He gets hard pretty fucking quick.

The speed is enough to make his head spin. Two minutes ago, he had his hand in your underwear, touching you, but you made him stop and were now on your knees, pants open and pulling him out. You work him over, hand locked onto his shaft, and you stroke, firm grip, a squeeze whenever you get to the head, a twist of your wrist on the down stroke of his shaft and a steady move back upwards to repeat the process all over again.

He is leaned against the counter when you lean in, your tongue flicking over the tip, and that has him moaning, head back. The view is fantastic, pants and underwear low on his hips, shirt still off, hands gripping the counter edge so hard you can see the flex of tendons in his forearms, it encourages you to wrap your lips around his head. You suck indulgently and keep your hand in motion, he tastes very fucking good, salt and tang, delicious and when you feel him start to throb in your palm you pull back. His head drops, chin tucked into his neck, to look down at you. His expression is crestfallen, he looks sad and confused as he asks, “Why’d you stop?”

You remain on your knees, tongue licking up the pre-cum on your fingertips before you say, “Because I want you to say it.”

More confusion as he asks, “What?”

Pressing him, you say, “I want you to say it, admit it.”

“Admit what?” Asked Darry, still not getting what you were driving at.

You smile and say it as if it were as simple as two plus fucking two, “That you are a whore. Nothing more than a needy slut. Say it and I’ll keep going.”

He looks shocked again. His mouth opens and closes, but he can’t say much more than, “I-...” before you start again, he moans anew, how cute is he? How stupid and gullible? This will be fun.

You work quickly, hand and mouth serving to wreck him in short order. He is moaning, panting, hips rocking forward, and you can tell, nearly there, he is close, and you stop, he curses, and you tease once more, singsonging out, “You aren’t finishing until you say it.”

“I’m not gonna-”

Well, that won’t do. You don’t let him even finish saying that he isn’t going to do it. Your hands on his hips you lean in, and you make one swift move and you deep throat him, take him to the root, and he lets off the best sound he has all night, a choked off moan with shattered breathing, utterly close to ruin. He looks so pretty like this. He had run his fingers through his hair, bit his bottom lip so hard trying to stay quiet you think it might bruise and bleed, his chest and neck is flush, he is unreasonably hard and leaking pre-cum at a steady rate.

You are relentless. You work him perfectly, swallow around him, suck, lick and more until he is about to burst. “Please, please, fuck, don’t stop, s’ good-”

He sounds fantastic when he begs, you feel yourself in need and aching. You almost want to give in, you are sure he will moan with the utmost gratitude, will sound hot enough that it might get you halfway there on its own without you ever having to touch yourself.

He is still begging, “So close, God, yes, ah-” He sounds so fucking hot, amazing, he is all but whining, but he didn’t say the magic words you wanted and so, you then pull off of him. Remove his thick cock from your throat and mouth, the wet strings of saliva break apart, the leash that bound you and he no more. You stand up and pull away, are ready to fully leave the bathroom, fixing yourself up in the mirror, and he grips your wrist. He is painfully hard, dripping, breathing is laboured as he asks, “Please, fuck, please don’t leave me like this?”

You give him a nearly apologetic smile, one thumb wipes some stray spit from your chin as you prompt him, “Then just say it, Darry. You say it and admit it, and I’ll get you off.”

A pause, a beat, and he finally relents.

He says it shockingly smooth and confident, maintaining eye contact with you, he states as if he truly believes it, “I’m a whore, okay? Is that what you want to hear? I’m a fucking slut.”

“There you go. Good boy.” You step away and your hand locks onto the doorknob, you open it and asked him over your shoulder, “Wanna go dance?”

He sounds shocked and calls after you, “Wait! I-I thought if I said it that you’d-”

You turn, eyes meet again, and you tell him, “Oh I’m going to take care of that-” And a nod down to his still raging erection, “-but I was thinking we can go take a break, let you calm down a bit and then maybe you’ll be able to fuck me without busting in two strokes. No offence, by the way, I didn’t make it easy on you, I can make an experienced guy bust in two minutes with some serious effort.”

That is a lot to take in all at once. His mouth opens, another unsure sound before as he asks, “You want to-”

You fill in the blank. “Fuck you Darry. I want to ride you into oblivion.”

He was so caught up he hadn’t noticed you were holding his shirt, you threw it at him and said, “Now c’mon you still owe me that drink from earlier too.”

He caught the shirt and was putting it back on as he asks, “The one you hoovered off my body doesn’t count?”

You lean against the door as you watch him stuffing himself back into his jeans and closing his pants off his still obvious erection as you say, “Not even close.”

He got you that drink, you did dance and later on in on top of the coats in a guest bedroom you kept your promise. Only afterwards, the sound of him whimpering while he came still ringing in your ears while you remain perched on top of him, heaving and sweat slick, coming down from your own orgasm, you tease him and say, “Was that so hard?”

He huffed out with a weak and satisfied smile, “No, suppose not, it was pretty great.”

You hum out, “I’ll say. And hey, Darry, you know this is all in good fun, right?”

He hums unconvinced and shifts under you, and you say, “No really, think about it Darry. I fucked you without ever telling you my name, I’m a slut too.”

The laugh he let out is the second-best sound you’d heard all night, when he sucks down a deep breath and the laughter subsides, he tells you warmly, “You fucking suck.”

“You know it.”

#Darry Jenner x reader #Jeepers Creepers x reader #Final Boy x reader #BHF writing #BHF asks #WE GOT IT IN #AN HOUR BEFORE MY BIRTHDAY #WE DID IT

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 14 days

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AITA for ignoring a dog?

title sounds bad but idk how to phrase it. I (25f) live in the sticks, middle of nowhere. like twenty minutes from a gas station, dirt road off a dirt road. my community is VERY small, so I know almost everyone and their dogs/cats.

I knocked doors (think Get Out the Vote type stuff) for work for years. I love that kind of work, I am so excited to eventually get back to it. but an unfortunate side effect has been that I am scared of dogs that I don't know. most dog owners ime don't train them. even when the dogs are friendly, I am worried w them bc I am disabled and getting knocked down can seriously injure me more easily than most. I still love dogs IF I know them, and actually have one myself.

i was on my way home from work and saw this very fancy, purebred dog in a field. it was a larger dog, one of the kinds where they crop the tail and ears (I think it's mean to do this but irrelevant). I'd never seen it before, my community is poor and idk anyone who even has the money for a dog like that, and I'd have remembered if I'd seen it before bc it's so strange for here. It had a collar, and was in a big field miles away from any houses without anyone around. so it was clearly lost, and probs belongs to someone's family member/friend from a big city.

I kept driving. I wanted to stop for it, bc it's clearly someone's dog, not from the area, and probably not aware of country life. cars go by fast on the paved roads, there's bears, coyotes, wolves, ticks, etc. and it's a very northern place so it's still cold enough to where I have a timer going when I let my dog out so her paws don't freeze.

I didn't stop bc 1.) idk this dog, so I was nervous about it, 2.) if I did stop and it wasn't aggressive towards me, how would I know it wouldn't be towards my dog or my cats? 3.) we don't have shelters here just bc the community is so small so idk what I'd do w it if I couldn't find the owners and I really can't take in another animal atm- financially, food would be fine but I wouldn't be able to cover an extra vet bill if something awful happened, and don't have the time to re-home an animal responsibly and 4.) I'm gonna be honest, it was Friday, the work week was really long, it was cold, and I was having a rough day and ready to get home and relax.

I feel like an asshole bc I always stop and pick up my neighbors dogs when they get out bc there's so much dangerous shit here, between wildlife, cars and the cold.

#aita #am i the asshole

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nixie-writes · 6 months

Text

@viktheviking1 here's your request! I made it a little longer than usual, it's a page long in Docs. I won't bother putting a cut, I hope you enjoy!

“Yeah, fuck you too!” You shouted across the room to Angel, who was laid out on a chair. “I don’t need the opinion of some whore,” you growled at him, fighting your best to hide the tears welling up in your eyes. Unfortunately Angel took notice and used it against you.

“I can’t believe you’re actually crying! You know I’m right,” he laughed, fixing the cushion on the chair. “You’re full of shit, get used to it,” he snorted as he got comfortable in his chair. You rubbed your eyes with your hands to clear the tears, sniffing. “Get fucked,” you snapped at him before walking out of the kitchen.

You entered the common room, feeling fresh tears building up. You were angry with yourself for crying. Angel was so ruthless with his insults and insists he’s right with his insults. You felt like you were 2 inches tall, he really made you feel like shit about yourself. Looking around the common room you couldn’t find anyone but Husk, alone, drinking a bottle of gin. You knew he wasn’t the best at comforting and would probably chastise you for crying over an insult but you needed the company, even if he was rude about it.

You walked up to the bar and took a seat, wiping a stray tear from your face. Husk cocked an eyebrow, setting down his bottle. He walked across the bar to you and pulled over a stool to sit on. “You good kiddo?” He asked in his gruff voice. You shook your head in response, putting your arms on the bar and hiding your face in your crossed arms so he wouldn’t see you cry.

“It’s Angel,” you muttered in a broken voice. You cursed yourself for being so obvious about having been crying. Husk snorted. “Don’t let that slut get to you, he’s mean to everyone,” Husk advised. He grabbed a wine glass and made you a virgin pina colada, passing it to you. You rose up from your position to take a sip of the fruity drink, reveling in the sweet tang.

“How do you deal with him?” You asked Husk. He just shrugged, grabbing his gin and taking a quick swig. “Like I said, he’s mean to everyone; I don’t take his shit personally and neither should you,” he replied. You pondered on his words for a minute. “I can’t help but take it personally, he says the meanest things that hit a nerve,” you told him. Husk looked at you from under his bottle.

“If you take every little thing personally, you’ll never stop being upset. This is Hell, you’re going to meet your fair share of assholes,” Husk reminded you. When he noticed you had finished your drink he pulled a soda from under the table and slid it to you. You cracked open the Sprite, taking a sip of the bubbly soft drink.

“Next time he bothers you just come to me, I’ll settle it,” Husk told you. You nodded your head in response. “I appreciate you looking out for me… And being good company. I think I’ll go lay down now,” you thanked Husk and made your way to your room. You felt better, knowing Husk cared enough to defend you if Angel tried to mess with you again.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #husk x reader #husk

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pricklepearbloom · 7 months

Text

Baked With Love

Pairing: Azriel x plus-size OC Aurora (Rory)

Warnings: mild angst, some body shaming, asshole!Cassian

Word count: 2.2K

“Shhhhhhoot” Aurora hissed quietly when the knife that she had been using to chop apples for the apple pie she was making for her new mate Azriel. Aurora was a baker with her own bakery in the Rainbow district of Velaris. Ever since she was a kid, she loved helping her mother in the kitchen, making everything from tarts and pastries to pies and cakes for anyone that would walk by their home. Her mom taught her everything she knew, and she used all of her family secret recipes to open her own shop so she could share that joy with everyone. Baking was something that centered her, something she knew how to do and do well.

After she met her mate Azriel who had come in one day to order a cake for Cassian’s birthday, things moved very quickly. Very quickly. Within two weeks of courting, she offered him an entire double chocolate mousse cake with homemade ice cream on the side. Perhaps they should have gotten to know each other a bit more but he was just so perfect, and he was her mate for mother’s sake. How could she not accept?

Unfortunately, this did mean that they were still getting to know each other after the initial mating frenzy had settled down. So, in efforts of becoming better acquainted Aurora would meet Azriel every morning after his morning training with Cassian with some assortment of baked goods. She would be late at this point if she didn’t get this blasted pie in the oven before the morning rush started. After mixing the chopped apples with the cinnamon sugar mixture she carefully poured it into a prepped pie dish. She grabbed the bowl of premade sugar crumbles that goes on top and finished the pie off with a flourish of her wrist resulting in her missing the dish completely. An internal shrug to herself as she popped the pie in the oven setting a timer before quickly cleaning her area and peeking her head out of the back so that she was in ear shot of her teenaged employee, Noah, who was manning the register that morning. “Noah!” Noah’s head lazily tipped over from resting on her hand being the only indicator that she was listening. “I’m going to head out to go get dressed, I’ll be back in a while to get the pie that’s in the oven van you make sure to take it out when the timer goes off?” Noah stuck her hand in the air with a thumb up which made Aurora roll her eyes.

Noah was the niece of a close friend who needed some help with responsibility and Aurora, like always, was more than happy to lend a helping hand. Although she had a less than sunny disposition, she seemed to do well with the structure that Aurora had given her at the bakery. She had been working there for several months so Aurora knew she could trust her to run it by herself until the midday workers came in to relieve her. Aurora whipped off her apron and hung it on the rack next to the door to the kitchen before heading home to get dressed into something nicer than her baking outfit of leggings and a baggy shirt with flour and holes scattered around it. Her nerves were picking up the closer she got to seeing her mate, she knew his hair would be wet from being freshly washed after his training session with Cassian and he would smell like soap. She was practically buzzing with excitement; she hadn’t seen him in a couple of days due to him being off on a mission in the Hewn City and it was killing her being without him even for that short period of time.

Azriel was never a glutton for food but after being mated to a baker for a few months he discovered a hungry he never knew existed. Perhaps it was just a hunger for the beautiful baker who gave him the treats daily, he mused silently while unwrapping his hands from the training session. Cassian was on the mat next to him stretching his arms, both males shirtless and glistening from the hard work out. Cassian glanced up from the ground and his eyes flickered down to Azriel’s stomach and he smirked slightly. “Rory’s got you pretty whipped huh?” “Don’t call her that.” Azriel says instinctively before glancing down in confusion “What makes you say that?” Cassian changed arms with a nonchalant shrug that made Azriel uncomfortable “It’s just… are you sure you’ll be able to keep up with all of the garbage she’s been feeding you? I mean I don’t want to be rude or anything, I’m just concerned that you gaining weight will get you hurt on the battlefield ya know? Just trying to look out for you.” Cassian tossed casually like he wasn’t opening up an insecurity that Azriel had been struggling with lately. “I mean… it’s not like I’ve gained that much weight” Azriel said shifting slightly when Cassian snorted softly. “Hey man it’s none of my business but soon you’ll have as thick of thighs as your mate and I don’t know how much use you’ll be then.”

Fury burned through Azriel like nothing he had ever felt before. His fist connected with Cassian’s cheekbone before he even knew what was happening, operating purely on instinct. “Keep my mate out of your fucking mouth.” He spat as he landed blow after blow on the male. The commotion had roused the attention of Rhys who was doing his own workout across the room. Azriel felt hands and dark magic pulling him off of Cassian, his shadows frantically buzzing around him in a rage. “What the hell is going on here?” Rhys said in between the two looking back and forth between them. “Ask him.” Azriel spat before disappearing into the shadows into his bedchambers.

Gazing at himself in the mirror his washroom, Azriel couldn’t help but gaze at parts of his body. He was still fit but he could feel his stomach wasn’t as tight as it once was, and shame burned through him. How could he be of any use if he wasn’t in perfect fighting shape. Would Rory stop loving him if he gained weight? Would she stop loving him if he lost his position because he couldn’t keep up? Would she find someone more suitable? Someone like Cassian? No, his brain insisted. There was no way she would leave him for Cassian, she didn’t really like Cassian, said he just felt off to her. But someone else, someone more competent, surer of themselves if anything else. A rogue anger burnt through him at himself for accepting all of those treats that Rory made him. He would stop eating them and only eat at mealtimes and even then, only healthy foods. Azriel tore himself away from the mirror unable to continue looking at himself any longer. He still needed to shower before meeting up with Rory underneath their tree that sat on a hill overlooking the Sidra.

When he got there his shadows immediately seeked out Rory, gliding up and down her body as if to reassure themselves that she was there. She was already sitting on a blanket that she had set up before he got there. Feeling the coolness of his shadows breeze over her summer dress she giggled at the ticklish feeling before looking behind where she knew her mate would be standing. Azriel’s eyes took in the dishes that she had set out and the bright smile that shone on her face directed at him. Azriel’s anger settled until he saw what she held in her hands. A freshly baked apple pie with steam still dancing out of it. His favorite. It’s like she knew his decision to stop eating sweets and came with a heavy hitter. Suddenly, his anger had a new target. “Are you kidding me?” He nearly spat out. Aurora’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion and she reared back at his tone of voice. “Wh-what’s wrong?” She glanced down at the pie, “you do like apple pie, right? I could have sworn that it was your favorite.” Azriel’s eyes darkened with her words. “Are you doing this on purpose? Trying to fatten me up so I won’t be able to leave on missions again?” Shock shot through Aurora like a punch to the gut and she froze not understanding what was going on, her mouth opening and closing gaping like a fish. “I- I’m sorr-“ she started before Azriel cut her off “Don’t be sorry just stop trying to constantly shove food in my mouth, I’m your mate not a fucking charity case.” Each word felt wrong coming out of his mouth but it’s like he couldn’t stop even when he felt the overwhelming confusion and hurt being sent down the bond. It was silent for a bit, both processing what Azriel had said.

A sound cut through the silence cutting Azriel down to two inches tall, Aurora’s soft sob. Pain laced through his bones at the knowledge that he was the one to put the tears on her cheeks and he made to move closer to her. “Rory…” She quickly wiped the tears from her face and stood up leaving the pie by her feet, facing him dead on with a finger to his chest. “I don’t know what the hell has gotten into you, but you will not speak to me that way. I deserve to be treated with more respect than that. I know we don’t know each other that well yet but I really hope this was just a bad day because I will not live with a man who makes me feel this way Azriel. I won’t do it.” Tears still steadily rolled down her cheeks as she spoke shakily, but she ignored them and continued on, “So sit down and tell me what is really going on because I know that it’s not my fucking pie” she threw the expletive back into his face. Guilt rushed through Azriel as he quietly sat down on the blanket, his shadows had covered him in defense to shield him from the vulnerability of having to explain what happened this morning. Aurora sat waiting expectantly for an explanation and Azriel couldn’t help but glance down at the pie which sat far from forgotten between them before beginning to explain what had transpired this morning.

Aurora had listened intently softening slightly as his story went on. She had struggled with her body image for years, so she knew the way insecurities could take over your brain. “Az I’m really sorry that that happened. No matter what you look like I will always be here for you. I wish that you had just explained to me what had happened instead of lashing out. That’s not okay with me.” Azriel looked down at his fingers twisting them before releasing them, he wasn’t used to having to talk openly about his feelings and thoughts. It was harder than he realized but Aurora seemed to handle herself so elegantly and his love for her burned through him. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have talked to you like that at all. I knew I was still angry about this morning, but I just wanted to see you so bad I didn’t know I would lash out so badly at what you brought. If I’m ever feeling this way again, I’ll make sure I’m completely cooled off before seeing you. I think I would rather have you take truth-teller to my neck than see you cry again.” Azriel looked up to see her smiling softly at him giving him a little nod. “Ok.” She said simply, Azriel looked up a bit confused. He was waiting for the fighting, for her to degrade him or tell him he was to find somewhere else to sleep for the night. “Ok?” he asked hesitantly “Yeah. You made a mistake, you apologized and said you wouldn’t do it again. I’m taking you at your word and honestly Az, I haven’t seen you in days and I just really want a hug.” She sighed tiredly. She didn’t have to wait longer than a breath before she was wrapped up in Azriel’s arms with his head nuzzled into her neck taking in her sweet scent of vanilla and sugar that never seemed to leave her skin. “I missed you.” He muttered against her neck before leaving a firm but gentle kiss on her neck. She sighed contentedly into his chest, burrowing deeper if possible, “I missed you too… I’m going to kill Cassian the next time I see him.” Azriel let out a deep chuckle raising his head from her neck to gaze adoringly down at her. His hand found home on her cheek stroking lightly “Easy tiger.” He teased lightly before placing a soft kiss on her plump lips. “How about we take this pie to go and I’ll show you how sorry I am.” Heat burned through her cheeks and her lower stomach at his words. She nodded slightly and let him whisk her through the shadows to their home where they spent the rest of the day reacquainting themselves with each other’s bodies. Only taking breaks to drink water and share some pie straight from the dish that was sitting right on the nightstand.

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