#I was a chick-lit boy. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bussyslayer333 · 1 year

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There was something ‘bout you

summary: bradley bradshaw didn’t fall in love, especially not with uptight girls in his english lit class and especially not the ones being forced into tutoring him. college au

pairing: fratboy!bradley x tutor!reader

word count: 9.2k

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, mentions of blood, teeny amount of violence, smut (oral and pinv), bradley sucks so bad but he’s cute!! MDNI 18+

Bradley knew girls liked him, loved him even.

He once had a girl leave him a love letter after a night together. It was a sweet touch, the pink paper and the gel pen she’d written it in, he slept with her once more after that but had to cut her off once he caught her snipping a little bit of his hair off in the middle of the night.

Anyways, what Bradley had concluded is that he was an attractive guy. Not too classically like his roommate and best friend Jake with his blonde locks and ken doll looks. But in a boyish charming way with his “big brown puppy dog eyes” or whatever that girl had written in the letter.

So when his Eng Lit professor had told him he was going to be tutored by a girl in his class he was pretty excited to say the least. Truth be told, the only reason he had picked this Eng Lit class was because he knew there would be an abundance of girls in there, sure they were probably a little more intellectually advanced than the girls he would usually go for but maybe that was what he needed. Some girl obsessed with like gothic literature, Jake had assured him they were the freaks he needed to bag.

He’s already started tuning out Professor Clarke’s spiel on getting his grade up and started imagining all the hot girls in his class who could possibly be tutoring him. There was Clara, she was the kind of gothy Jake was on about, he could definitely be into that. Or even Natalie, she was who Bradley usually went for, pretty brunette and what Jake would call in his omniscience; a colossal rack.

“Bradley, are you listening to me?”

Bradley pulled his mind from the depths of analysis of the girls in his class and hummed,

“Yes, Professor.”

“So you know who I’m assigning to tutor you?”

Bradley winces apologetically and watches as Professor Clarke runs a hand down his face.

“Please, Bradley. I’m just asking you to try and put some effort in, she’s only gonna be able to do so much to help you, you need to help yourself.”

Bradley sighs, “who is it?”

When Professor Clarke gives Bradley your name and tells him that you’ll meet him after class tomorrow his first thought is “who the fuck is that?” and his second one is in mourning of being in forced proximity of a hot goth chick or one of the girls who he’s already slept with.

Bradley walks back to his house slightly dejected, if he couldn’t even recognise you from your name there was probably not a huge chance you were going to be the ‘bad boy gets taught in a different way by his tutor’ wet dream he was hoping for. When he finally gets back he finds Jake lounging on the couch with another one of his frat brothers Reuben.

Jake looks up from where him and Reuben are watching this weeks football highlights on the TV to meet Bradley’s moping gaze.

“You good bro?”

Bradley replies with a whine, “Professor Clarke is making some girl tutor me.”

Reuben snorts and shovels another handful of chips into his mouth, “hot.”

Bradley rolls his eyes and flops onto the couch in between his two friends. He says your name to the two boys and begins, “do you know her?”

Jake’s eyebrows furrow in thought for a moment before he smacks Reuben on the back of the head,

“Bro?” He whines.

“It’s the library chick!” Jake exclaims.

Reuben looks confused for a moment before he realises, “oh shit yeah!”

Jake and Reuben looks happy for themselves for a few moments before Bradley interrupts again, “When the fuck have you ever been to the library?”

Jake frowns, “I’ll have you know that I read, the classics are my favourite!”

“What classics?” Reuben scoffs.

Jake smiles, “You know, the classic ones?”

“Where’s Waldo isn’t a classic J,” Bradley smirks.

“Shut the fuck up, okay I was trying to impress this girl in my econ class.” Jake admits, “she’s very well read.”

Bradley mutters something about Jake being pussywhipped before deciding he needed to get back to the problem at hand. You.

“Okay, so library chick. Do I know her?”

Jake racks his mind for a minute, scowling at Reuben’s loud chewing sounds.

“Fuck, yeah okay, do you remember last year? She dropped that massive encyclopaedia on your hand after you whistled when she was bent over sorting out books.”

Bradley cringes in recollection. In his defence he did think he was complimenting you… albeit with not much class or subtlety. You were cute. Maybe a bit nerdy, but you clearly had guts which he appreciated.

“Shit.. yeah.”

Bradley hoped you weren’t one for grudges.

You weren’t for the most part, and when Professor Clarke had told you who you would be tutoring you had decided last years incident could be water under the bridge. You figured he didn’t even remember you, he hadn’t acknowledged your presence in the one class you shared either way.

However, when he came sauntering down from his seat right at the back of the lecture hall and paused in front of you by Professor Clarke’s desk you were already becoming mildly irritated.

Bradley could tell, and he also knew that he was goading it on by making eye contact with your tits before your eyes and then saying,

“Hey, beautiful.”

He watches as you scoff and mutter something that sounds similar to “fucking prick.” It makes him smile.

Professor Clarke sighs loudly and speaks directed towards you, “I trust you’ll be able to help Bradley, Lord knows he needs it.”

Bradley’s smile drops, “Hey! I literally submitted my last assignment in on time!”

Your face drops in shock, is that seriously what he considers a win?

Professor Clarke looks at Bradley and sighs once again, “you sent me a gif of a rat dancing and made the subject of the email “The Great Ratsby”.”

Bradley sputters slightly but clears his throat feeling the weighted stare of Professor Clarke still on him. The older man smiles thinly as you thank him for his time and move towards the door. Bradley is hot on your tail, and he rounds on you once the reach the corridor.

“So…. how are we doing this angel?”

Bradley can’t control how his lips quirk upwards at you apparent distaste for the pet name. He can’t help but wonder what you’d appreciate more; maybe sweetheart or baby or something cute like bunny. He’s snapped out of his thought process by you waving your hand in front of his face.

“Earth to Bradley?” You quip.

He shakes his head a smiles, “Sorry what was that sweetheart?”

He notices how your brows furrowed once again before you start up, “I could book a study room in the library? Wednesday at 6?”

Bradley nods, “Sure, can I get your number?”

You’re taken aback slightly before Bradley clarifies, “So we can text about when to meet?”

“Oh. Right, yeah of course.”

Bradley reaches for his phone in his hoodie pocket and hands it to you, opening it up to his contacts. Before you can type in your number you can’t help but notice the sheer amount of girls in his contacts. All with specific names.

cass (toothy ❌)

natalie (.)(.)

samantha (screamer ✅)

It makes you’re stomach churn in mild horror, which your push down in favour of finally typing in your number. You hand his phone back to him and watch as he chuckles whilst writing your contact name. He doesn’t let you see it before shooting you off a short “hi” text to send his number to your phone.

Bradley stares at you for a moment before whistling, “right… so I’ll see you Wednesday?”

You smile awkwardly back at him, “yeah.”

He readjusts his cap and nods in a goodbye before turning to leave the building. You try to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach as you walk out the exit opposite.

It’s 6:45 on Wednesday when Bradley finally shows up. He’s wearing black joggers and a top that you presume is a few sizes too small with a cap placed backwards on his head.

He felt kind of shitty about being late, he was leaving to get to the library at 10 to 6 when Jake and his other frat brother Mickey called him over whilst they were playing COD, he thought he could squeeze in a game and not be too late. Evidently, he was wrong.

You’re reading a book which he doesn’t recognise when he finds you in the study room and begins to apologise.

“I’m sorry for being late sweetheart-”

“Yeah. Whatever Bradley, let’s just start.” You breathe out, not having the energy to listen to his excuses.

Bradley’s pissed at that. He came in here willing to apologise and you think you can make him feel bad? Not likely.

“There’s no need to get bitchy? I literally said I’m sorry.” Bradley snorts, pulling a chair out opposite you with a loud scrape.

You scoff, “seriously? I’ve been waiting for you for almost an hour!”

“Yeah and I said sorry!”

“That’s not the point-”

You catch yourself before you carry on, he wasn’t worth the waste of breath.

“Look it’s fine. Let’s just get started.”

Bradley pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek and leans back.

“Alright.”

The session is as productive as you can make it with your significantly shorter period of time. You find out that Bradley knows little to nothing about any of the texts that you’re studying and enjoys annoying you deeply. You’re not sure whether he hates silence or just loves the sound of his own voice. You figure it’s the latter.

“You’re glasses don’t fit you properly.” He points out after you push them up your nose for the third time in the past minute.

They’re slipping down your nose as you look down to read over some notes Bradley had made.

“Sure they do.”

Bradley shrugs and leans back again. You can feel his heavy gaze on you as you push your glasses back up again. He doesn’t say anything. Just smiles.

You’re cute, for sure. He kind of digs your chunky cardigan library assistant vibe. Maybe if you loosened up a little he’d like you even more. Bradley starts to wonder what you’d be like at one of his frat parties. He doesn’t think he’s seen you anywhere outside of class or the library. Maybe you’d go absolutely buck wild after a few of Reuben’s infamously too strong drinks. He figures you’re probably his friend Bob’s type, you’re both sort of nerdy and cute in a mousy way.

Bradley doesn’t realise he’s been zoned out looking at your face for the past two minutes until he sees a book being dropped down on the desk in front of him. It gives him slight PTSD from the encyclopaedia incident. He picks up the book and looks at you, confused.

“What’s this?”

You laugh with an almost unbelieving look on your face.

“Shakespeare? Romeo and Juliet? We’ve just started going over it in class?”

Bradley picks up the book of various Shakespeare plays and skims through it until he reaches Romeo and Juliet.

“Yeah, my bad, I think I recognise this.”

You cringe inwardly at the amount of work you’re probably going to have to put in to stop Bradley from failing.

“Great.”

Bradley smiles at what he thinks is praise from you and goes back to reading the first scene of the play. You’re blessed with a blissful silence for a moment whilst Bradley reads and you send off a few texts to you roommate Maya about how the tutoring session is going.

maya 😘😘

how is it???????

you

he’s an idiot

i’m pretty sure i saw him read dickens on the reading list and snort and then mumble “dick” under his breath

maya 😘😘

LMFAO

the cute ones are never smart

you

maya 😘😘

shut up you’d hit

you

i find that offensive

Before you can send off another annoyed text to your friend, Bradley speaks up again.

“Do you like, read and shit?”

You stifle a giggle, “what?”

“Like books?”

“Are you seriously asking the girl who works at the library-”

Bradley chuckles, “Okay! I see my mistake, what’s you’re favourite book then?”

You hum whilst staring at him, it was an oddly thoughtful question.

“Probably Wuthering Heights. It’s by Emily Brontë.”

You’re not quite sure why you told him the last part. There was no doubt in your mind that Bradley Bradshaw did not know who the Brontë sisters were.

He cocks his head to the side, “what’s it about?”

You’re not sure whether Bradley genuinely wants to know about you and your interests or if he just doesn’t want to actually study, Bradley is equally confused because he’s asking his question in earnest.

“It’s about this guy called Heathcliff who gets adopted into this family and falls in love with his sister Catherine, he grows up to find out that she’s a married another man and basically becomes obsessed with avenging what could have been his.” You try to explain as simply as possible.

“HIS SISTER?” Bradley exclaims with a laugh.

“It’s not like that-”

“Babe, I didn’t realise you were into that freak shit.”

You can’t control your laugh at the absurdity of his words. Bradley really likes that sound, and the way that your eyes crinkle. It’s weird, he suddenly feels like he wants to be the only person to make you do that.

Once you’ve calmed down you look back up to see Bradley staring at you once again. You quirk an eyebrow up questioningly before looking at the clock behind him.

“Shit, we need to go. I only booked this place till 8.”

“What! I swear I only just got here!”

You snort, “Yeah well if you’d been on time…”

Bradley pouts at you, “Baby, please. I’m sorry.”

It’s half mocking, but the way he’s staring up at you with wide eyes makes your stomach flutter slightly. You shake your head as if to banish the thoughts and begin picking up your books.

“Just be on time next week, please.”

Bradley stands, moving round the table and pats you on the head.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

The gesture makes your frown slightly, but it served as a reminder for how you suppose Bradley truly feels about you. You’re not friends, and he doesn’t like you in any romantic capacity. You’re just the girl forced into tutoring him.

The next few tutoring sessions go somewhat the same. Bradley has a short attention span but tries his best, he’s nice enough to you that you can sometimes forget he’s slept with half the girls in your class.

You’re sat next to him in the study room doing some quick flash card recap questions. He’s fiddling with a thread at the end of your long sleeve shirt, it feels kind of intimate but you don’t want to look into it too hard. It’s been like this over the past few weeks, touches that last too long and his incessant usage of pet names. But, every time you begin to let yourself feel special you’ll catch a glimpse of a girls name flash across his phone screen and your predicament hits you right across the face with a loud crack; shattering the hope you’ve been building.

Bradley moves from playing with the thread on your top sleeve to your fingers, mumbling a correct answer to one of your questions. He keeps finding the need to be close to you, and not even always in a sexual way which shocks him the most. Don’t get him wrong, he’s definitely thought about it a few times in the shower, or in his bed or even when he was fucking Natalie last week and he suddenly thought about how cute you’d look with your glasses sliding down your nose whilst you’re sat on top of him. He had to look away from Natalie for the rest of the time she was there, he felt too guilty.

The morning after when Natalie had left surprisingly early, Jake (who had been noticing the lack of girls flowing in and out of his shared room on Bradley’s part) had an inkling as to why.

“You like her.” Jake declares as he plops himself down in the gaming chair in his room, spinning to face where Bradley is lying on his bed.

“What?”

“The library chick. The one who’s been tutoring you.” Jake expands.

“What do you mean?”

“You like her!”

Bradley huffs, annoyed at Jake’s insistence, “yeah, she’s cool.”

Jake rolls his eyes, “no, you like like her.”

“You’re 12, and no I don’t!” Bradley removes his hands from behind his head and moves to sit up straighter against his headboard.

Jake clicks his tongue, “okay so you wouldn’t mind if I fucked her?”

Bradley cocks his head to the side but doesn’t say anything.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while now, she’s kind of hot.”

Jake watched as a muscle in Bradley’s jaw ticks. He knows he’s struck gold.

“Maybe we’ll do some roleplay, she can be my sexy teacher and I’ll bend her over the desk.” Jake wraps his knuckles against the desk behind him and chuckles, “sturdy.”

Jake knows he’s almost got Bradley as he watches him clench and unclench his fist.

“I mean that ass, it’s insane really I’ll tell you how it feels afterwards if you-”

“Shut the fuck up! Fuck! Fine okay I fucking like her, what do you want me to say?!”

Bradley’s outburst doesn’t surprise Jake in the slightest. In fact, it puts a smile on his face.

“Nothing. I just wanted to know.”

Bradley rubs a hand down his face, he’s pretty sure he’s never felt like this before. It kind of scares him to be honest.

“You should invite her here on Friday.”

Friday. For the party. Bradley thinks about it for a second, “Bro, not if you’re going to try and fuck her.”

Jake chuckles, “she’s all yours, her roommate is the girl from my econ class so if anything this is selfish of me.”

Bradley smiles, “alright.”

After Bradley answers another question correct you smile at him brightly.

“Looks like somebody’s been hitting the books!” You poke, setting your flash cards down on the table.

Bradley warms at the praise and looks at you for a moment.

“Will you come to my party on Friday?”

You study his face for a moment, he looks almost nervous.

“I don’t know Brad, it’s not really my scene and I wouldn’t really know anyone,” you smile apologetically at him.

“You know me!” Bradley reasons, pulling your hand into his.

“And you’re gonna spend the whole night sitting with me? You’re funny.”

Bradley thinks about how he’d definitely do that if you asked him to.

“Bring your roommate! Maya is it? I’m pretty sure Jake is in love with her.”

Bradley’s words make you giggle and you consider for a moment, when you look back to Bradley he’s got an adorable pout on his lips,

“Please don’t make me beg, angel.”

Although the idea of Bradley on his knees begging is tempting, you’re not that cruel. You pretend to think for a moment more before answering.

“Fine. But only in the name of Jake and Maya.”

Bradley is pleased with your answer, “Thanks, angel.”

You smile, “whatever.”

You check your phone and find that you’ve spent the last 10 minutes of the session just chatting with Bradley.

“We need to go,” You remind him.

Bradley looks a little crestfallen but stands anyway. He helps you gather your books and puts them into your tote bag for you.

“Thanks.” You mumble as he hands the bag to you.

He scratches the back of his head for a moment before speaking, “Can I, like, walk you back?”

His gesture makes you smile, as well as his sort of nervous demeanour, “Little old me? Bradley Bradshaw wants to walk little old me home?” you tease.

The familiar smirk makes its way back onto Bradley’s face at your prodding. “Shut up, I’m being a gentleman or whatever.”

“Well then, who am I to decline?” You smile at him.

“Dork.” Bradley mutters under his breath as he opens the door for you.

Bradley takes your bag off of your shoulder and places it on his own, once he feels the weight settles down he looks at you shocked,

“You carry this shit around everywhere?”

The confused look in his eye makes you laugh, “yes?”

“This is so heavy? What are you even carrying?”

“Books? My laptop?”

Bradley laughs, “Shit, maybe I need to start coming to these sessions more prepared.”

Bradley pushes open the main door to the library and the cold night air hits you unexpectedly, making you shiver in your long sleeve tee. He looks down at your attire and rolls his eyes.

“Hold this for a sec.” Bradley drops your bag back into your hands and begins to pull his hoodie up over his head.

You go to protest but your mouth falls open awkwardly at the way his t-shirt rides up, exposing his toned lower abdomen and the sprinkling of hair that leads all the way down-

“Angel?”

“Yes! Sorry, what?” You stutter out with a chuckle.

Bradley gestures for you to hand him back the bag and hands out the hoodie with his other hand. You take it and pull it over your head, revelling in the smell of it. It’s partly his cologne and the rest something uniquely him.

“Ready to go?” Bradley asks, looking down at you.

“Sure,” You smile up at him.

Bradley feels his stomach flip, looking down at your frame drowned in his hoodie. Before he can even process what he’s doing Bradley has slipped his hand into yours. You don’t say anything in fear of him retracting it but the smile that sits on your face is blinding.

You walk in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, Bradley squeezing your hand every now and then in reassurance. You turn a corner and watch as you apartment complex comes into view. Squeezing his hand you look up at him and speak,

“This is me.”

Bradley pouts a little, “You don’t want me to walk you all the way in?”

You giggle and shake your head, “No don’t worry.”

You reach for the hem of the hoodie and begin to pull it up when Bradley stops you.

“Keep it. Please. It looks better on you.” He almost whispers.

You flush at his words and look at him with furrowed brows, trying to study his expression. Whether he’s being truthful or not. He hands your bag back over to you and nods.

“If you’re sure.” You smile, “I’ll see you Friday?”

Bradley winks, “You better.”

“Night Bradley.”

“Goodnight, angel.” Bradley hums.

He watches your retreating frame until you’re inside of your building before spinning on his heel to walk in the opposite direction back to his house.

Bradley pulls his phone out of his pocket, checking through his messages as he walks. He finds himself deleting almost all of the irrelevant numbers from girls that had been littering his contacts without much thought. Once he’s done he goes to pocket his phone again before it vibrates in his hand.

angel ❤️‍🩹

thank u <3

Maya has been ready to go for the past half an hour as she sits on your bed and watches as you pick up various dresses and items of clothing before discarding them on the floor.

You’ll admit you probably look ridiculous stood in your underwear with a full face of makeup on and your hair pulled up into a styled ponytail but it was not your priority at this second.

“I have nothing to wear! I’m not going Maya, just go without me!”

Maya sighs and walks towards you’re closet, rifling through the particularly skimpy dresses you had purposely avoided. She pulls out a short blue halter neck dress and shoves it into your hands.

“Go put this on.”

You roll your eyes at her tone, “okay, mom.”

“And don’t ruin the makeup I did!”

You wander into the little bathroom and begin to pull the dress over your head when Maya opens the door with a tiny scrap of fabric in her hands.

“You are not wearing those granny panties,” She looks pointedly down at the cotton panties with flowers that you have on.

You pout, “They’re comfy.”

Maya struts over and places the lacy garment in your hand, “Bradley can thank me later.”

“Shut up!” You exclaim, trying to hide your smile.

“I’ll be in here if you need me,” She giggles,

“Wait! Maya you didn’t give me a bra!” You whine.

She rolls her eyes, “I know.” Before closing the door behind her.

You strip out of your comfy underwear and look down at the baby blue lace and sigh, at least you’d shaved. Pulling the dress over your head whilst trying to maintain Maya’s artistry was hard but not impossible you found, and when you pulled the dress the rest of the way down you realised you didn’t need a bra anyway. You spin a little, looking at yourself in the mirror. You looked good.

There’s a new found confidence in your walk as you make your way back to your bedroom where Maya is sat fiddling with the buckle on a pair of wedges in her lap. When she looks up she hollers at you,

“Damnn! Twirl for me gorgeous!”

You laugh at her antics but indulge her anyway gasping in faux shock when she slaps your butt playfully. She hands over the wedges and your eyes widen slightly at the height.

Maya laughs at your expression, “baby don’t worry I’m sure they’ll be in the air more than they’ll be on the ground anyway.”

“You’re relentless!” You swat at her before bending down to do up the shoes.

You gather your phone and some lipgloss before linking your arms in Maya’s.

“Let’s go?”

“Let’s go.” She confirms.

You check your phone once your a block away from Bradley’s frat house. There’s a few messages from him that you’ve yet to respond to.

brad 🙃

when are u getting here??

i miss u angel

you

almost there :)

You snort at how needy Bradley sounded, there was probably enough girls there to keep him entertained.

It’s not hard to miss Bradley’s house, there are people littered around the front yard drinking and the music could be heard from at least a block away. As you walk up the steps on the front porch you wobble slightly on your wedges and Maya steadies you, she sees the anxious look in your eyes and smiles,

“You look so hot right now babe,”

You roll your eyes but let the nerves sink down as she grips onto your hand tighter.

The house is pretty packed with girls in tiny outfits and an unnerving amount of shirtless dudes. Maya leads you through the crowds to where there’s a group of dudes playing beer pong. As you get closer you recognise Jake and Bradley and a few other guys from their frat.

Jake spots you both first, nudging Bradley. You’re not sure why you’re so nervous when Bradley makes eye contact with you and starts making his way over, much to the disappointment of the frat bro he was playing with. You look to your side to find that Maya has already made her way over to Jake and when you look back Bradley is right in front of you.

He’s still tall enough that you have to look up to make eye contact with him, and his cologne clouds your thoughts. He takes your hand and drags you over to a quieter corner of the room. Bradley’s eyes rake over your form hungrily, you drop your hands in front of your stomach almost on autopilot.

“You look incredible, angel.” Bradley speaks earnestly.

He takes both your hands in his and holds them up so he can stare at you again.

You can feel the heat emanating from your cheeks as you look up at him, “You think?” You ask somewhat coyly.

Bradley nods, tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration, making you giggle. He takes one of your hands and spins you around just slightly and whistles lowly,

“Can I take a picture?”

You roll your eyes and spin back around to face him, pushing lightly at his chest, “Shut up.”

He raises both hands in mock defence and shrugs, “worth a shot.”

You move to stand to the side of him, back against the wall and take a moment to look at him. He looks handsome, as always, but you can tell he’s put extra effort in. He’s wearing a thin shirt with two of the middle buttons done up and dark jeans. You’re sure he could have forgone the shirt with how much of his skin is exposed but you can’t complain seeing how tightly it fits around his biceps. His hair is tousled but in a way that looks purposeful and he smells incredible.

Without realising, you’ve inched closer to Bradley and his cologne hits your nose in a pleasant surprise. When you meet his eyes you find that he’s already looking at you.

“You smell good,” you murmur.

Bradley leans down so that you can hear him clearly, “thank you, angel.”

His lips brush against the shell of your ear so delicately that you could almost pretend that you imagined it, but the way a shiver runs down your spine tells you otherwise. Before you get a chance to compose yourself Bradley is imposing on your personal space again and speaking into you ear,

“Do you want me to get you a drink?” He nods towards the kitchen on the far side of the house.

You consider for a moment, then nod.

“Please.”

Maybe it would help calm your nerves.

“I’ll be back in a sec.”

Bradley departs from his space next to you with a wink, his lack of presence already making you frown. Instead of moping, you survey the surrounding area for Maya, hoping to check in with her.

You finally catch sight of her when her hot pink dress catches your eye as she ascends the main staircase with a tall blonde who you can only recognise as Jake. You giggle, swiping open your phone to send her a text.

you

use protection 😘

You can only hope she reads your message.

After a few more moments of scrolling through your phone you look up to realise Bradley still hasn’t made his way back to you. First you consider the fact that this is a party that he is hosting, he could have been sidetracked by any one of his numerous frat brothers or friends.

So, you decide to make your way to the kitchen, just so you could retrieve your drink of course.

What you’re not prepared to see is short brunette girl kissing Bradley, because of course that’s what held him up from getting your drink. It serves as a reminder of the fact that he is not your boyfriend and had no intention of being so, you figure he probably got tired of waiting for you to put out so he moved onto the next girl. You see that someone had lined up a few tequila shots on the counter nearest to you and knock back the few closest, wincing as the liquid warms the back of your throat all the way down to your stomach.

You close your eyes and breathe out, stomach churning from the shots and sight you’ve just seen, you spin on your heel to walk away from the counter but stumble whilst turning around too quickly. You probably would have hit the floor if it wasn’t for a strong grasp, steadying you by the waist.

“Shit, you okay darlin’?” The person who saved you from near embarrassment drawls out.

You steady yourself with hands on his surprisingly hard chest and look up into his blue eyes. He’s handsome, even with his wired frame glasses slipping down his sloped nose. He’s not less attractive than Bradley, just in a more refined way.

“God, I’m sorry, I’m not used to wearing shoes this high yet.” You mumble sheepishly, frustrated that you’ve managed to embarrass yourself in front of another freakishly attractive man.

“I’m Robert or Bob or whatever you want to call me,” Robert smiles down at you, speaking somewhat loudly to combat the thumping bass of whatever song was currently playing.

You give him your name and he smiles brighter if possible, almost as if he’s shocked you’re still talking to him.

“Pretty name for a pretty girl.” He charms, watching you giggle.

His words almost make you forget what you had seen in the kitchen, the memory making you frown ever so slightly. Robert mistakes this for annoyance at his words and quickly adds on,

“Sorry, that was stupid and-”

You’re quick to silence his anxieties, “No, I liked it.” You speak in earnest, propelled by liquid courage.

Robert scratches the back of his neck and cocks his head to the side, “Do you want to dance?”

His question makes you smile, because yeah you do want to dance and fuck Bradley Bradshaw.

“Totally.” You beam up at him.

Robert pulls you toward the living room where people are crammed together dancing, sweaty bodies moving on top of each other in some cases almost obscenely.

The music seems to be vibrating off of the walls and the familiar voices of Rihanna and Bryson Tiller fill your ears. Robert seems somewhat apprehensive but the tequila buzzing through you makes you confident as you turn you back to him, grinding your ass back subtly as to test the waters. Robert’s hands move to grip at your waist, aiding you in grinding back onto him. You move one of your arms to rest around his neck and you giggle as you hear him groan quietly into your hair.

Bradley returns to where he’d left you flustered and annoyed carrying two red cups. Natalie had cornered him in the kitchen and tried to kiss him. He was furious, he’d sent her a text a few days ago apologising and letting her know he wasn’t interested in seeing her again. Clearly, that didn’t matter to her. After she had forced herself on him, he shoved her off somewhat awkwardly and told her firmly that he wasn’t interested. Bradley realised she was clearly already plastered and retrieved one of her friends from nearby to look after her.

He felt bad for leaving you on your own for so long but he hoped that if he could explain you wouldn’t be too annoyed.

However, when he gets back he finds that you’re not there. Initially, he worries that you’d left to go home. But after scanning the large living room packed with people, he spots you, grinding back onto his friend Bob.

Bradley’s stomach drops watching how you giggle at something Bob has whispered into your ear, how his hands and wrapped around your waist and how your ass is grinding back onto his crotch.

Without realising, Bradley has began to storm through the clumps of intoxicated people, dropping the drinks on a side table nearby. Fuelled by anger and jealously he pulls at one of Bob’s arms wrapped around your waist.

Bob stumbles back and turns with brows furrowed,

“Bradley? Are you okay-”

Before he can finish his question, Bradley’s fist hits the side of Bob’s nose with a sickening crunch, pushing him to the ground before raising his fist to hit him again.

The people who were previously dancing have made a circle around the commotion, drawing the attention of Bradley’s frat brothers Reuben and Mickey who push to the middle of the circle and grab Bradley before he can cause anymore damage.

“What the fuck man!” Reuben scolds in his ear, pulling him from his anger induced trance.

Bradley stops struggling against Reuben and Mickey’s grip, and instead looks down to see you tearfully wiping at the blood spilling from Bob’s nose in copious amounts.

Your watery eyes are looking up at him with so much anger that he feels bile rising in his throat. He runs a bruised hand through his sweaty hair and sighs. He can hear Mickey trying to get everyone to disperse, clearly not wanting his friend’s dirty laundry being aired out in front of everyone they know. Bradley can’t focus on any of the words being spoken to him, just the utter look of disappointment on your face.

A few hours later almost everyone has left the house. You’re sat on a bench in the backyard knees tucked under you and wedges removed and on the floor. Maya and Jake are sat next to you, they had returned to find an almost empty house save for you and Jake’s frat brothers.

Bradley had stormed out following Reuben and Mickey’s intervention, he couldn’t handle looking at your sad face and being the one who caused it.

“I just don’t know what the fuck he wants from me!” You exclaim to Maya.

Her and Jake had been filled in by you and Jake had the decency to look sheepish. It was his idea to invite you tonight, he knew how Bradley felt about you but it wasn’t necessarily his place to say.

You didn’t know how to feel, you were still upset from seeing him kiss that girl, confused as to why he punched Robert if he clearly wasn’t interested in you. Maybe it was some strange frat bro mentality, he didn’t want you but he also didn’t want anyone else to have you? It was all too confusing for 2am.

Maya’s hand is comforting on your back, rubbing circles and trying to alleviate the stress radiating off of you. Guilt is eating at Jake’s stomach and he’s about to spill everything he knows when he hears the glass patio doors opening from behind him.

He turns back and makes eye contact with Bradley, trying to non verbally say “not the time.” But you’ve noticed his presence before Jake can save him.

“Fuck off, Bradley.”

Bradley winces, he deserves your anger.

“Angel, please. Hear me out?” Bradley pleads.

He looks awkward, scratching at the back of his neck, nervous for your answer.

You look to Maya and she shrugs. She thinks you should hear him out, of course she does.

You sigh, “Fine.”

Jake and Maya exchange words silently and move to leave. Jake pats Bradley on the shoulder, he knows how shitty Bradley feels about how tonight went down and he also knows that he’s just been at Bob’s apartment apologising profusely.

Bradley sits down on the bench next to you, he wants nothing more than to pull you into his lap and tuck his chin on top of your head, but he knows that probably wouldn’t go down too well right now.

“I’m so fucking sorry angel.” Bradley breathes out.

You raise your eyebrows, “I don’t get you Bradley!” you huff out, “You walk me home and call me ‘angel’ and you have no concept of personal space but then I see you kissing some girl in the kitchen whilst you’re supposedly getting me a drink and then as soon as I-”

“I wasn’t kissing anyone!” Bradley cuts in, confused.

“Bradley there was only one person in that house wearing a floral button up and he was kissing a girl in the kitchen when I went to check on you.”

Bradley racks his brain for a moment before he realises what you’re talking about.

“Oh shit. Natalie.” Bradley concludes, mostly to himself.

You roll your eyes, “Great to know you caught her name before you let her shove her tongue down your throat.”

Now you knew her name you recognised her, she was in your Eng Lit class. Natalie was gorgeous to make you feel even worse.

“Angel, I didn’t want to kiss her.” Bradley sighs, “she was wasted and pushed herself on me.”

You look at him sadly, wanting so badly to believe him, “really?”

Bradley shuffles closer towards you, placing his hand over yours resting on the faded wood of the bench.

“I wouldn’t lie, angel.” Bradley promises, squeezing your hand.

“Still doesn’t excuse you acting like a fucking neanderthal and punching Robert, he didn’t deserve that. He’s sweet.” You’re not willing to fully forgive him yet.

Bradley feels anxiety pool in his stomach, at the thought of what he’s going to have to say to you.

“I know and I told him how sorry I was. I just, you make me crazy you know?” Bradley laughs out, “the first time I met you, you dropped an encyclopaedia on my hand. Do you remember that?”

You giggle slightly at the memory, “You deserved it.”

“Yeah well the thing is sweetheart, I deserve a lot of shit. I know I kind of fucking suck, but one thing I really don’t deserve is you.” Bradley smiles nervously.

“You’re so smart, and I’m such an idiot because I thought I could try and pretend that I’m not in love with you.”

Your eyes widen at Bradley’s confession. He looks pale with anxiety, he doesn’t think he can remember a time where he’d ever been nervous when talking to a girl. But this was so much different. Because it’s you.

Bradley can’t help the word vomit that seems to be pouring out of his lips, “You’re so beautiful, but that’s not the reason I love you. I love how smart you are and how you’re funnier than me and all my friends combined. I love the way you make me feel when I’m with you. I know I’ve probably completely fucked this up tonight but I just wanted you to know how I feel.”

The vulnerability in Bradley’s words makes your heart clench, the way his eyes are staring at you so deeply, shining in the moonlight like he’d do anything for you. You can feel the tears pooling in your lash line.

“Oh Bradley.” You give him a watery smile, reaching your free hand up to cup at his jawline.

“I love you too, you dick.”

Bradley laughs, loud. Relief is sweet but not as sweet as how you look, staring at him with wide eyes and pouted lips.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispers.

You nod and surge forward, hands coming to rest around his neck. Bradley pulls you into his lap and connects your lips. He thinks about the cherry chapstick you always carry in your bag and how he can taste it on you now, how soft your lips feel against his. His tongue pushes against your lips tentatively, you grant him access and sigh contentedly at the feeling of him.

One of Bradley’s hands is soft at the back of your head, guiding you against him gently whilst the other is tracing circles against your hips rhythmically. You trace your nails in patterns against the short hair and the back of his head and smile into the kiss as he moans at the feeling.

Bradley goes to deepen the kiss once again but is stopped abruptly by a noise coming from behind him.

“We should check on them, oh-”

You pull back from Bradley sheepishly with a wet saliva caused noise and make eye contact with Maya. Then Jake.

Jake is the first to laugh, “I told you they’d be fine.”

You wake up before Bradley at noon the next day. You’re lying in his bed draped in a large t-shirt of his.

The sun is streaming through his thin curtains and you’ve been swapping your gaze between a shirtless Bradley and something that caught your eye on his bedside table.

Bradley begins to stir with an aggressive yawn and stretch that almost wipes you out. You whack his arm out of your face and lean down kiss his forehead.

“Morning, sleeping beauty.” You giggle.

Bradley groans and smushes his face into your boobs,

“I’m tired.” he mumbles, muffled.

You thread a hand through his curls and speak tentatively,

“I have a question.”

Bradley sits up at that, moving so he can look at you properly.

“When did you get this?” You reach for the book on his bedside table, it’s a copy of Wuthering Heights with an old receipt sticking out at around the half way mark being used in place of a proper bookmark.

Bradley’s cheeks flush slightly, “Like, I don’t know. Maybe a few days after that first session in the library.”

Your cheeks hurt from trying to suppress your smile. You reach forward and kiss him sweetly, handing resting on his toned chest.

When you pull back he chuckles, “I wanted to impress you.”

“That is the sexiest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

Bradley cackles at your emission until he realises how deadly serious you’re being.

“Angel.. we need to change that.” He smiles, lifting at the hem of his shirt on your frame.

You hum and connect your lips again, slipping your tongue into his mouth as he begins to pull at the t-shirt.

You separate for a moment to let him pull it off you fully. On reaction your hands reach up to cover yourself but Bradley catches them before you get the chance. He manoeuvres you so that he’s now the one on top and stares down at you hungrily.

“Jesus christ, angel.”

His hands reach for you breasts, squeezing them appreciatively. His thumbs flick over your pebbled nipples, smirking upon seeing how you preen into his touch, back arching up off of the bed.

Bradley moves to kiss down from your lips to you collarbones, paying specific attention to your pulse point, tongue lathing at where he sucked a mark too harshly. He can feel the blood rushing to his cock, straining against his boxers, at the sounds of your little whimpers and moans.

Bradley attaches his lips to one of your nipples, swirling his tongue in circles, revelling at how your breath hitches.

“Fuck, please Brad,” you whimper from underneath him.

He unlatches his lips and rests his head on your stomach.

“What do you need angel? Anything.” He promises.

Your teeth bite into your bottom lip as you consider, “your mouth?”

Bradley smiles at your request and shucks the covers off from his back, he moves down the bed slightly and sits back on his knees. His hands reach forward to grasp at your panties, pulling them down your legs. You lift your hips to aid him and giggle at how he holds them appreciatively once they’re off.

“These are cute.” He admits.

“Thanks, babe.” You giggle, make a mental note to tell Maya.

“But this. This is fucking incredible.”

Bradley lifts your legs over his shoulders, head dipping down to look at your pussy. He blows a cool breath onto your glistening folds and smirks at how your squirm at the feeling.

“Does me reading seriously make you this soaked?” Bradley chuckles.

You buck your hips up and whine, “yes! It’s cute you wanted to impress me.”

Bradley laughs and decides to put and end to your waiting, licking a stripe up your folds. The sound you make is music to his ears. He swirls his tongue around your clit, arms holding your thighs from closing around his head.

He licks at you languidly and moans against your pussy, “you taste amazing.”

Bradley’s words make you whimper, a shiver of arousal running down your spine.

“Keep going, baby please.”

Bradley’s tongue dips into your hole, fucking into you for a moment before coming back up to swirl at your clit. He’s moaning almost as much as you, the vibrations making your hips jerk up against his hold. You reach a hand down to grab at his hair making Bradley whimper. The noise shocks you slightly and makes you gush, pleasing Bradley to no end.

He sucks at your clit, spurred on by your hand grasping at his curls.

“Fuck, I’m close Brad please.” You whimper out.

Bradley flicks at your clit once more then pulls away, tongue poking out to lick at your juices that have accumulated around his chin.

You whine at the loss of contact and the pout on your lips almost makes Bradley cave, before he speaks up again.

“I want to feel you around me angel.”

You shiver at his words and nod, pulling him up by his chin to kiss him. You can taste yourself on his tongue and you can tell he knows it too by the way he smiles against your lips.

He pulls back only to reach for a condom from a drawer in his bedside table. He hands it to you to open whilst he pulls off his boxers. Although, you’re sort of hypnotised by how handsome he looks in the sunlight peaking in through his cheap curtains. His skin is tan and he has a few moles dotted around his chest, but most importantly there’s a sprinkling of dark hair that spans from between his pecs all the way down into his happy trail. When you catch sight of his cock your mouth waters slightly and Bradley laughs.

“It’s rude to stare, angel.”

“It’s rude that half the girls on this campus have seen the snake between your legs, Bradley.”

He snorts at you short streak of jealousy and moves to cup your cheeks with his hands.

“You’re the only one for me, angel.”

He sighs against your lips as he feels your small hands wrap around his dick. He looks down and groans loudly at the sight of you slowly stroking him before ripping open the condom he had given to you.

You let go of him so that he can roll the condom down his length, shuffling down so you can lie with your head resting against the pillows. Bradley sits on his knees between your thighs, staring down at you intensely.

“You’re so beautiful, angel.”

He leans down to connect your lips quickly and pulls back only slightly so he can watch your features as he guides his cock towards your entrance, dripping in arousal.

He pushes in slowly, smirking as you whimper quietly. You roll your eyes at his expression and whisper into his ear,

“Fuck me like you mean it, Bradshaw.”

Bradley laughs and hikes your legs up higher around his waist. He plunges into you without warning, revelling in how you squeak in surprise. His thrusts are deep and calculated, hitting at the right spot almost every time.

You moan out gutturally, “shit, right there Brad.”

The way his name rolls off your lips make Bradley grunt in pleasure, speeding up his thrusts if even possible. You feel incredible around him, squeezing at him just right. Bradley continues his ministrations but reaches a hand down to toy at your clit, smirking at how your moans increase in pitch. He makes circles around the bundle of nerves and feels his eyes rolling to the back of his head at the way your walls are pulsing against him.

You reach a hand down over Bradley’s to swirl at your clit, he groans loudly at the sight, head dropping down to stare at where he’s fucking in and out of you. He moans a little pathetically but can’t feel it within himself to be embarrassed when you tighten so deliciously around him.

“I’m really close, angel.” He groans, leaning down to breathe into your neck.

“Me too, baby.” You whine, kissing the top of his head, “please cum for me, Bradley.”

Your words were all Bradley needed to reach his peak. His hips stutter against yours as he spurts into the condom and the feeling combined with your fast swirls against your clit shoots white hot pleasure through you, pushing you over the precipice as well.

Bradley is a panting mess above you, his skin sticking to yours with sweat. He pulls out of you slowly and ties off the condom. When he flops down next to you, you kiss all over his face, squealing when he grabs your face and smushes your lips together. He pulls away from you and stares at you in your sweaty post sex glow and smiles.

You catch his eyes and hum, “you’re so pretty, Bradley.”

His lips quirk as he reaches to stroke his thumb over you cheek.

“I’ve not heard that one before.”

Bradley eventually ventures downstairs to retrieve you a glass of water and makes eye contact with Reuben as he goes to ascend the stairs again.

Reuben flips him the bird without looking, “you’re fucking loud bro.”

Bradley can’t find it in himself to care.

No one is more surprised on Monday morning than Professor Clarke when he sees you walk into his lecture hall with Bradley Bradshaw wrapped around your waist, your usual large tote bag now slung over his shoulder.

He watches in amusement for the hour as you note diligently and raise you hand as usual, however there was now the addition of Bradley. Pointing at your notes when he wanted something explaining or whispering something in your ear after you made a good point that makes you smile.

Professor Clarke finds it sweet, albeit slightly confusing considering the tension that surrounded the two of you when you’d been introduced.

Once your class has finished Bradley helps you pack your things up before putting your bag over his shoulder once again,

“You know I can carry my own bag?” You tease, poking at his bicep.

“Then how will everyone know you have a super strong and handsome boyfriend?” Bradley rolls his eyes playfully.

As you’re descending the stairs you spot someone walking towards you and Bradley from the corner of your eye.

“Natalie, hi.” Bradley speaks awkwardly, placing a comforting hand on your waist.

“Hi Bradley… I just wanted to apologise, I was fucking wasted on Friday and I didn’t realise you have a girlfriend and I should have read your texts properly and I’m really embarrassed to be honest,” she chuckles out awkwardly.

You smile at the girl, sensing her guiltiness. You look to Bradley who has a small smile on his face as well.

“It’s cool,” Bradley speaks truthfully.

She nods and sends you another apologetic smile before making her own exit from the classroom.

Once she’s out of earshot you turn to Bradley,“That was nice of her,”

Bradley nods and threads his hand in yours, leading you down the rest of the stairs. As you walk past Professor Clarke’s desk he calls out your name. He gestures down to where you’re holding hands with Bradley and jests,

“I’ll admit this was the last outcome I was expecting when I asked you to tutor Bradley here.”

You can feel Bradley’s smirk from next to you and roll your eyes, “He’s not so bad.”

a/n: HERE SHE IS LADIES AND GENTS!!!!! fratboy!brad and his angel 😭😭😭

my apologies for how sucky he gets BUT HE MAKES UP FOR IT PROMISE

also apologies for making him deck bob LMFAO

as always i love to hear feedback so pls comment, reblog or send me an ask and tell me what you think!

thank u for reading!!!

- honey <333

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fatecantstopme · 5 months

Text

She's My Siren

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader

Summary: The boys are working a case where several men have brutally murdered their wives for no apparent reason. Turns out they were influenced by a siren. The siren sees Dean and appears to him as someone he knows.

Warnings: canon violence, cursing, use of pet names. SMUT, oral (M and F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V), face sitting. Fluffy fluff fluff.

"So what do you think this is? Just a bunch of dudes ganking their wives?"

"I mean, that's what's happening," Sam replied with a shrug. "but I think something is making them do it."

"Well they're not possessed, so what's doing it?" Dean asked.

"I have no idea. Maybe we should call Bobby and (Y/N)."

Dean groaned. "She's gonna laugh at us for not figuring it out."

Sam smiled. "Probably, but we do need their help."

"Fine," Dean grumbled.

Sam pulled out his phone and dialed a very familiar number.

"Hey Sam. Having some trouble?" Bobby answered on the second ring.

"We can't figure out what's causing these guys to kill their wives."

"Tell me what you've got so far," (Y/N)'s voice said from the other end of the phone.

Sam put the phone on speaker so Dean could talk. "All we've got is four guys who murdered their wives for basically no reason. No possession, no shapeshifters, nada."

"All the husbands knew exactly what they were doing...and they all regret it," Sam added.

"Anything else?" Bobby asked.

"All of them met their 'perfect' woman not long before killing their wives," Dean answered.

"Define 'perfect'," (Y/N) said.

"They all said 'she was perfect in every way. Exactly what I wanted'," Sam responded.

The boys couldn't see the look Bobby and (Y/N) exchanged, but they did hear her soft chuckle. "And you boys couldn't think of anything that could fit that description?"

Dean gave Sam an 'I told you so' look. "I'm guessing you have something in mind?" he said aloud.

"I do indeed," she answered. "Ever hear of a Siren?"

"A Siren?" Dean asked. "Like Greek Mythology?"

Sam gave Dean a surprised look.

"I can read, you know," Dean mumbled.

"Yes, like Greek Mythology," (Y/N) said with a small smile. "What do you remember from the stories?"

"Uhh...they're super hot women who lured sailors to their deaths?" Dean said.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and Bobby chuckled. "Sort of," Bobby replied. "They're actually quite hideous, but they can read minds. They appear to the guy as their ideal perfect woman, put some mojo on them, and make them kill."

"What kind of mojo?" Dean asked.

"Don't really know," Bobby answered. "Siren songs aren't really songs...more like a spell that falls on the person."

"Okay, so how do we find her?" Sam asked.

"Honestly, boys, my money is on her finding you," (Y/N) said.

"Great," Dean mumbled. "So...how do we kill a Siren?"

"We're...uh--gonna have to get back to you on that one," Bobby said.

"Just keep your eyes peeled and don't do anything stupid," (Y/N) said. "We'll get back to you as soon as we find something."

"Thanks guys," Sam said before hanging up.

"Sooo a Siren, huh?"

"Looks like it."

"Who do you think she's gonna look like?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Probably one of those chicks from 'Busty Asian Beauties' you're obsessed with."

Dean's eyes lit up. "Hell yes. Let's go find us a Siren."

**********

(Y/N) and Bobby had been digging through lore books for hours before they managed to find something potentially useful.

"I love a good 3,000 year old text," (Y/N) mumbled in annoyance.

"I'm not even sure what it means," Bobby responded.

"You're supposed to be the expert, Singer," she teased.

He chuckled. "Let me see it again."

He took the book from her and read the passage again...and again...and one more time for effect. "I think I've got it."

Bobby explained his reasoning to her and she agreed. She placed a call to Sam, but he didn't answer. When she called Dean, he picked up almost immediately.

"You got something for me, sweetheart?"

An almost imperceptible shudder ran through her body at the pet name. She was used to him calling her that and other similar names, but it never ceased to have an effect on her. She knew he called all the girls 'sweetheart', so she knew it didn't mean anything...not that she wanted it to...right?

"Bobby and I think we figured out how to kill her."

"Lay it on me."

She cleared her throat. "Uh, you'll need a stake, dipped in the blood of someone actively under her spell...then just stab her."

"Okay, sounds easy enough. We'll just get some blood from one of the poor saps sitting in a jail cell."

"Not quite, Dean," Bobby cut in. "The guy has to be actively under her spell...none of those guys are anymore."

"Damn. Okay, so how do we get it?"

"I have a terrible plan, but it should work," (Y/N) said.

"I'm always down for a terrible plan," Dean responded.

"Find the Siren, one of you gets dosed, the other uses his blood to gank her."

"You want us to get dosed?" Dean asked in surprise.

"Obviously not, but it's a surefire way to get the job done. As long as only one of you gets dosed."

"What happens if we both get it?"

"You'll probably try to kill each other," Bobby answered.

"Great. That's just great," Dean grumbled.

"If you've got a better plan, go for it," (Y/N) said with a shrug.

"We'll make it work. I'll call you when we're finished." Dean hung up without another word.

(Y/N) and Bobby exchanged another glance.

"Carvistly is what, three hours from here?" she asked.

Bobby nodded. "We should probably head that way."

"Agreed."

**********

"Any luck tracking down the Siren?" Dean asked when Sam walked into the motel room.

"Nope. Any word from Bobby or (Y/N)?"

"Got a way to kill her and a...rather terrible plan."

Dean explained (Y/N)'s plan, as well as how to kill the Siren.

"You're right, that's a terrible plan," Sam said when Dean finished.

"Yeah, but it's all we've got."

"Fine...but how do we find her? I mean, I've talked to all the vics and they all described a different chick. We have no idea what she's gonna look like."

"That's true. Guess we'll just have to hang out at the bar and hope she comes to us."

"We're lucky there's only one bar in town," Sam commented.

"Dude, for real."

The two hunters made their way to the bar and got themselves a high top table towards the back of the room, giving them a good vantage point of the rest of the bar.

"Do we even know how she's picking her targets?" Dean asked.

"Well, all of the guys have been married so far, but I'm sure she'll go for just about any guy desperate enough," Sam answered with a pointed look.

"What's the look for? You saying I'm desperate?"

Sam shrugged.

"I'm not desperate."

"Right...when was the last time you got laid?"

Dean scoffed. "All the time, man."

Sam raised his eyebrows and Dean groaned.

"Okay, fine, so it's been a while. That doesn't make me desperate."

"Whatever you say, Dean."

Dean grumbled as he took a swig of his beer. He was not desperate. Absolutely not. Dean Winchester was never desperate. Maybe he just hadn't been horny lately...a man doesn't need to get laid every day. It had absolutely nothing to do with a certain hunter he couldn't get off his mind. Definitely not.

Sam was scanning the bar, looking for anyone who seemed out of place...but no one was catching his eye. He felt a little bad for teasing his brother, but he just wanted Dean to admit the truth.

"I'm gonna hit the head," Dean mumbled.

He watched Dean walk to the bathroom, several pairs of eyes on him the entire time. Most were women, but none of them stood out as concerning. Just the typical hot bimbos Dean always seemed to take home.

Sam's mind began to wander a bit while he waited for his brother to return. He had a lot on his mind and working this job was, unfortunately, not his priority.

Dean made his way back from the bathroom, jarring Sam out of his trance. "I'm gonna get another beer. Want anything?"

"No thanks, I'm good," Sam replied.

Dean walked off towards the bar and Sam's eyes followed him out of habit. Dean was halfway to the bar when a woman approached him. Sam's jaw nearly hit the floor when he saw her. Had Dean not told him (Y/N) had called from Bobby's two hours ago, he would have been certain she was here in the bar.

He watched the woman walk up to Dean and touch his arm, and he was out of his seat and heading their direction in an instant.

"Hey there, handsome," a woman said from beside him, her hand touching his arm.

When Dean turned to face her, shock lit up his handsome face. He knew it wasn't her, but the resemblance was so uncanny, he almost believed it for a moment.

Realizing the woman before him was the Siren, he quickly regained his cool. "Well hello to you too," he said with a smirk.

"How 'bout you buy me a drink?" she said lightly.

Her voice is wrong, he thought to himself. "I'd love to," he said aloud.

He followed her towards the bar, turning to see Sammy following close behind. The expression on Sam's face told him that his little brother knew what was happening.

Dean held back a little, allowing Sam to catch up to him.

"Dude, she--" Sam began.

Dean glared at him. “Not of word of this to (Y/N), Sammy. Not a word.”

Feeling a little more comfortable knowing his backup was there, Dean continued to follow the Siren. When they reached the bar, he ordered a beer and she ordered some fruity cocktail.

"So what's your name, beautiful?" Dean asked.

"Kimberly."

"Hi, Kimberly. I'm Dean." I guess she doesn't know everything...

"It's nice to meet you, Dean."

The bartender handed them their drinks and Dean followed her to a solitary booth in the far corner of the bar. Dean noticed Sam taking a seat not too far away.

The Siren leaned in close and began chatting with Dean, laying on the flirtation very thick. Despite the fact she was literally wearing the face of the one woman Dean really loved, he found it very hard to reciprocate.

Thankfully, the Siren didn't seem to notice. In all honesty, Dean's bad flirting was better than most of the population's good flirting.

A half hour and another round of drinks later, Dean found himself mere inches from the Siren. Her scent was intoxicating, and he wondered for a moment if that was the 'mojo'...except he didn't feel any different. He knew it had to be something else.

"Your lips look so soft," the Siren muttered as she reached up a hand to touch them.

"They are," Dean murmured as he leaned in closer. "Wanna find out?"

She smiled and for a moment--just a moment--Dean forgot that it wasn't her. His eyes fluttered closed and he pressed his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. He was instantly intoxicated by her...he wanted her so badly he could hardly breathe.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a small voice screamed at him, reminding him she was a Siren, but the feeling of desire--of mindless devotion--quickly overcame the voice.

After what felt like an eternity, she broke the kiss. Dean was breathless, but he knew he would have happily suffocated to death kissing her.

"Why don't you take me back to your place?" she asked, voice suddenly sultrier than he remembered it being before.

He wanted nothing more than to take her to his bed, so he agreed without hesitation. Dean took her by the hand and guided her outside, helping her into the Impala, and taking off without a second thought.

Sam came running out of the bar, just in time to see Dean speeding away with the Siren in his passenger seat. "Shit..."

When Dean arrived back at the motel, he escorted "Kimberly" into his room. "Sorry for the mess," he said quickly as he knocked a few books off his bed.

"Don't worry," she said as she came up to him and ran her hands up his chest. "I don't mind a little mess."

Dean looked down at her and let out a soft groan. "God, you are so beautiful," he whispered.

She smiled knowingly. She had been more than a little surprised when she read his mind at the bar...it was rare to meet a man who's ideal girl wasn't a tall, thin, bombshell, especially a man who looked like him. But she knew what he wanted and she was more than happy to give it to him...until she got what she wanted.

Dean kissed her passionately and pulled her down onto the bed with him. He began to slowly peel off her clothes and she tugged at his shirt. He broke the kiss just long enough to pull his shirt off over his head.

Suddenly, someone knocked on their door.

Dean groaned. "Ignore it."

She was happy to do so and continued to kiss him.

"Dean!" Sam yelled from the other side of the door.

Dean pulled away for a moment. "Kinda busy here Sammy," he called.

"Open the damn door, Dean! She's not who you think!"

"Don't listen to him," the Siren said. "He wants me all to himself."

Dean's eyes darkened. "But you're mine."

"That's right, sweetie. All yours," she purred. "And I can be yours forever if you just get rid of him."

"Get rid of him?"

"You have to kill him, Dean, or he'll take me away from you."

"That's never gonna happen, baby." Dean stood up and crossed the room.

The moment he opened the door, Sam punched him in the face, sending him spiraling back into the room. The Siren watched with a smile as the two men fought each other.

"Dean, you gotta snap out of it!" Sam yelled.

"You can't have her. I won't let you."

"What are you talking about?"

"Kimberly's mine, Sammy," Dean insisted as he swung at his brother.

Sam ducked out of the way and slipped behind him. Dean swung his foot around and managed to knock Sam to the floor.

The Siren stood off to the side, egging Dean on. "Kill him for me, Dean. We can be together if you just kill him."

Dean was on top of Sam, punching him repeatedly. Sam reached into his jacket and managed to grab ahold of the stake. He jabbed Dean in the arm and kneed him in the groin with a mumbled apology.

Dean groaned loudly and Sam pushed him off and onto the floor. When he stood up, the Siren noticed the stake in his hand, but it was too late. Sam was blocking her exit. She turned to run towards the window, but Sam was faster. He stabbed the stake into her back and she fell to the ground with a scream and a thud.

Sam turned back to his brother, who was now kneeling on the floor. "You okay, Dean?"

Dean looked up at him with a glare. "Did you really have to go for the goods, man?"

Sam chuckled lightly. "Sorry about that, but you were being a dick."

"I was hopped up on Siren juice, dude!"

"Well lookie here, guess they don't need our help after all," Bobby said from the open doorway.

(Y/N) came up beside him with a smirk. "Nice work you two. We thought you might need some backup, but looks like we were wrong."

"We can help with the body dump at least," Bobby said.

Bobby and (Y/N) stepped into the room and Dean yelled "no!" in an oddly high pitched voice. (Y/N) did her best not to look in Dean's direction, despite his outburst...his shirtless form made her stomach do somersaults.

"Jesus, Sam, how hard did you hit him?" Bobby asked.

Dean scrambled to get to his feet, but he wasn't fast enough to stop (Y/N) from seeing the Siren. Sam had reached for her, but he saw the look on her face and knew it was too late.

"I don't think that's his problem..." (Y/N) said softly, pointing to the body of the Siren.

Bobby came up beside her and cursed under his breath. He and Sam made eye contact and slowly started to back out of the room.

"Does anyone want to tell me why the Siren looks like my twin?" (Y/N) asked, stopping everyone in their tracks. She turned to fix all three men with a hard stare.

"We're just gonna...umm--go, uh anywhere else," Bobby said. He grabbed Sam's arm and dragged him from the room, closing the door behind them.

(Y/N) fixed her intense gaze on Dean. "Well?"

"I--um, well--you see, I...um." He couldn't quite meet her eyes.

(Y/N)'s expression softened. She could see his discomfort matched her own. "Sit," she said gently, gesturing to the bed nearest the door. "And maybe put on a shirt."

Dean sat down, tugging his shirt back over his head. She sat across from him, finally able to look at him without feeling incredibly awkward.

"It just sorta...happened," Dean mumbled.

"You sure about that?"

"Yeah--you musta been on my mind when she read it, ya know? So she made herself look like you." He didn't want to tell her the truth...all this time he'd spent pretending he didn't feel this way was going to be thrown out the window in an instant.

"That's not how it works, Dean," she said softly. "Sirens can see your innermost desire...the woman of your dreams."

Dean let out a little groan and bit his lip. He exhaled heavily and finally lifted his head to meet her eyes. "Guess there's no point in lying then."

She shook her head. "Not really."

Dean's heart was hammering in his chest. It was so loud that he was surprised (Y/N) couldn't hear it. She looked beautiful, sitting there with a confused and concerned expression on her face. For the first time in the years he'd known her, he was struggling to push his feelings back down. Now that the box had been opened, he couldn't put them back.

"She didn't get your voice right," he said softly.

"What?"

"Your voice...it wasn't right. It was missing the softness...the--" he struggled to find the right word, "--the melody."

"You think my voice is melodious?" she asked in surprise.

"I think it's the most beautiful sound in the world."

She laughed, thinking he had to be joking. When his expression didn't change, her laughter came to an abrupt stop. "Oh, you're serious..."

"I changed my mind. Your voice is the second most beautiful sound in the world."

She swallowed thickly. "What's the first?"

Dean smirked as he crossed the short space between them and sat on the bed directly beside her. "Your laugh," he whispered.

Her breath caught in her chest as she looked at him. His expression was something she'd never seen on his face before, but it sure looked a hell of a lot like lust.

"Dean..."

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

"What are you doing?"

"I'm clumsily telling you how I feel about you," he answered honestly.

"That you like my laugh and my voice?"

He sighed. "I like them because they're yours."

She wanted to believe it, but she couldn't wrap her brain around the idea that Dean Winchester liked her. It wasn't even remotely possible, so he clearly had to still be under the Siren's spell. There had to be some alternate explanation for why the Siren took on her appearance.

"I guess the Siren's mojo really screwed with your head."

Dean shook his head. "It didn't mess with my head, (Y/N/N). It just made me face something I've felt for a long time."

Her breathing sped up as she stared into his eyes. "And what is it you feel?"

"Affection," he answered. "Adoration...devotion, desire, longing." He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, fingertips lingering on her cheek. "Love," he finished softly.

She inhaled sharply, disbelief evident on her face. "You love me?"

"With everything I have."

"Why?"

Surprise lit up his face and he dropped his hand. "Why? What do you mean, why?"

"I mean, why would you love me of all people?"

"I don't really know how to answer that...I just--I just do."

She shook her head and stood up. She began to pace and the words tumbled from her mouth before she could think about what she was saying. "There is absolutely no way that you, Dean Winchester, love me. I mean, look at you! You're literally perfection in human form. Every woman on planet earth with a set of working eyeballs wants you. You could have your pick of any fish in the sea! I've seen the women you go home with, Dean, and they sure as hell don't look like me. I'm not what any man would use to define the 'ideal woman'...I'm short, I'm certainly not thin--I've got hips and thighs and a big ass, not to mention large boobs and a soft stomach. There is nothing special about me. Someone like you isn't meant to be with someone like me."

Dean stood up and grabbed her, pulling her to a stop directly in front of him. "Are you done now?"

She was slightly breathless as she nodded.

"Okay, good. Now listen--I'm not perfect. Not even close. I'm aware that I'm attractive, but inside? Shit, (Y/N), I'm damaged goods. Beyond damaged. Why do you think I only bring home chicks that look like that? Baby, they're easy to entice home and there's zero strings attached. I've kept my feelings buried for so long, it just became easier to pretend they didn't exist. It kept you safe...I didn't want to expose you to the darkness that lives inside me. You deserve so much better than me, (Y/N)."

She stood there in stunned silence--unable to grasp a single word to say.

"And another thing--you're my ideal woman. I don't give a damn what society's beauty standards are. For the record, I love your thick thighs and that gorgeous ass of yours. I love your boobs, and your hips, and your stomach--baby, I love all of you. You're perfect. So don't you dare tell me you're not meant to be with someone like me...because in reality, I'm the one who doesn't deserve you."

"Dean," she whispered.

His eyes fluttered closed for a moment as he tried to stamp out the terror that she was about to rip his heart out. He opened his eyes again and saw the whirlwind of emotions in her eyes. "Yes?" he asked tentatively.

"Please kiss me," she murmured.

He didn't need to be told twice. His lips crashed against hers in a searing kiss. He moaned softly, licking against her lips, silently begging to be let in.

She parted her lips, allowing his tongue entry. She sighed as he tightened his grip on her, pulling her flush against his chest.

Dean deepened the kiss, large hands roaming her soft body until they landed on her round ass. He gave it a light squeeze and she responded with a little moan.

Dean broke the kiss to begin trailing down her jaw to her neck. His lips felt like heaven against her skin and she clung to him, head tossed back in pleasure.

He nipped at her pulse point and she moaned softly, eliciting a growl from deep in his chest. He pulled away from her, slightly breathless, and leaned his forehead against hers. "I take it back," he whispered.

"What?"

"I've got a new favorite sound."

She cocked her head to the side in confusion.

He grinned devilishly. "Those pretty little moans you make? Those are my new favorite."

Her eyes widened slightly, but a small smile played at her lips. "I bet if you try hard enough, you can hear a few more."

He chuckled. "Oh, baby, you ain't seen nothing yet."

"Uhhh guys?" Sam suddenly said from the doorway.

They both turned their heads to face him, embarrassment reddening her cheeks.

"Little busy here, Sammy," Dean grumbled.

"I can see that, but umm...dead monster body," he said as he pointed at the Siren's body.

"Gross," Dean mumbled. "I forgot about that."

(Y/N) chuckled lightly. "We should probably take care of that."

He nodded. "We'll pick up where we left off later." He shot her a wink and gave her another kiss before peeling himself off of her.

**********

An hour later, the body had been properly disposed of and everyone was ready to head home.

"You boys wanna come back to my place and rest for a few days?" Bobby asked.

Dean looked over at (Y/N) before turning his attention back to the older man. "Yeah, Bobby, I think we could use the rest." He glanced back over at (Y/N) just in time to see the soft smile on her lips.

Bobby nodded. "Sam, why don't you ride with me?"

Sam looked confused for a moment, but realization quickly lit up his face. "Oh, yeah--right. Sure. I'll uh, see you guys later, then."

"Mhm," Dean hummed, clearly not really listening anymore.

Bobby and Sam got into Bobby's car and drove off, leaving Dean and (Y/N) alone.

"So, uh...whatcha say we stop at the nearest motel on the way?" Dean asked with a sheepish grin.

She smiled. "I think I could be persuaded."

He grinned fully, reaching out to grab ahold of her and pull her into him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he leaned down to kiss her.

Every fiber of his being was screaming at him to take her right then and there, but he wanted better for her. Her kiss lit a fire inside of him that burned more brightly than he had ever felt before. He wanted her with a kind of desperation he had never known was possible.

"Why don't we skip the motel," she whispered against his lips.

"Huh?"

She glanced at the Impala. "The backseat is pretty spacious."

He chuckled. "It's plenty big enough, but I don't want our first time together to be in the back of a car. I wanna make love to you properly--on a bed."

She smiled, practically melting against him. "Then you better drive fast, because I don't know how long I can wait."

His eyes widened. "Yes ma'am."

She laughed lightly as he opened up the car door for her and she slid into the passenger seat. Dean ran to the other side of the car and jammed the key into the ignition. The car roared to life and he sped off toward the highway.

**********

"Oh thank God," Dean mumbled about 20 minutes into the drive. "There's a motel 10 miles up."

(Y/N) laughed warmly. "Step on it, handsome."

He grinned and laid his foot down a little harder on the accelerator. Less than 5 minutes later, Dean was pulling into the motel parking lot.

"I'll go get us a room. Should be quick," he said as he hopped out of the car.

A few minutes later, Dean returned with a room key in hand. He opened the car door and held out his hand for her to take.

"Come on, gorgeous. We've got important things to do," he said with a smile.

"Lead the way."

Dean had to consciously force himself to walk at a reasonable pace to the room. (Y/N)'s legs were a lot shorter than his and if he'd walked as fast as he wanted to, he would've been dragging her along.

As soon as they were in the room, Dean shut and locked the door.

(Y/N) glanced around. "Looks clean enou--"

Dean silenced the rest of her sentence with a well-timed heated kiss. He'd whipped her around and pressed her up against the door, hands gripping her hips as he kissed her passionately.

She gripped the edges of his shirt and tugged upwards, silently asking him to remove it. He pulled back, yanking the shirt off his head, before attaching his lips back to hers.

He slid his hands under her shirt and her body tensed up on instinct. She'd always hated people touching her stomach, but she did her best to push away her discomfort.

Despite her best efforts, Dean could feel her unease. "Baby, look at me," he whispered.

Her eyes met his and she visibly relaxed.

"I've got you, okay? I love you, I love your body, and I wanna touch and see every inch of it...but if you're not ready, I can wait."

Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of his sweet words. Normally, she would have taken him up on his offer, but not now. She wanted this...wanted him...and that meant giving in completely.

She pushed him back ever so slightly, giving her enough space to unbutton her shirt and slip it off. It fell to the ground, leaving her upper half in just a bra.

She was self-conscious for no more than a moment. Dean's hungry eyes traced their way down her torso and back up, desire evident in his gaze.

He pressed his body up against hers again, a soft moan escaping his lips. "So fucking perfect," he whispered.

He slid his hands up her back and deftly unhooked her bra. She let him pull it off and toss it somewhere behind him. He groaned as he palmed each of her breasts in his large hands. He began to kneed them gently, pinching her nipples as she gasped.

Suddenly, his hands left her breasts and traveled to her thighs. "Jump," he whispered.

"Excuse me?"

He gripped her thighs tightly. "Jump, baby. I've got you."

She looked at him like he was crazy, but she trusted him completely. She jumped up and Dean caught her with ease, tugging her legs around his waist. She locked her heels behind him and he pressed her back against the door.

Her breasts were now at the perfect height for his mouth to feast on...and feast on them he did. He sucked and nipped, his light stubble scratching against her skin deliciously.

His arms wrapped around her back and he lifted his head to look at her. "Keep those legs tight, okay?"

As soon as she nodded, he pulled away from the door and carried her to the bed. He laid her down gently, but instead of crawling on top of her, he stood at the end of the bed.

She sat up slightly. "Dean?"

He licked his lips and looked back up at her face. "Hmm?"

She crooked her finger, gesturing him to come to her.

Instead of climbing onto the bed, he leaned down and placed a kiss to her belly, just above her pants. "These should go," he murmured.

He made quick work of removing her jeans, his calloused hands gliding back up her legs to the hem of her underwear.

"I don't think you need these either." He tugged them off and threw them onto the ground.

She laid before him, completely bare, and she didn't feel self-conscious at all. She couldn't--not with the way he was looking at her.

His breathing was slightly labored as he stared at her. He palmed his painfully hard cock through his jeans, a strangled moan escaping his lips.

She sat up and licked her lips. "I can help you with that."

His eyes widened, pupils dilated to the point of obscuring his green irises. "Oh yeah?"

She nodded and slid off the end of the bed, dropping to her knees before him. She looked up at him and slowly began to undo his belt.

"Holy fuck..." he murmured. He couldn't take his eyes off of her as she undid the button on his jeans and slowly began to pull them down.

He helped her take them off completely before she hooked her fingers in the waistband of his boxer briefs. "These are in my way," she said huskily.

He yanked his underwear off with such speed, if she'd blinked she would have missed it. What she couldn't miss, however, was his surprisingly large member mere inches from her face.

Dean noticed her wide eyes and he grinned. "Like what you see, baby?"

Her lust-filled eyes flicked up to his. "I like every inch of you."

He wasn't sure if she was talking about his body or his cock, but he didn't have time to think about it. She gripped him tightly and slid her mouth onto his cock, eliciting a loud moan from him.

She kept her eyes fixed on his face as she began to move her head and her hands in an expert rhythm. He could barely breathe as he stared down at her...pretty mouth stuffed full of his cock and her big (y/e/c) eyes looking up at him.

He slid his fingers into her hair, pulling it back from her face so he could see it better. The blunt tips of his nails raked against her scalp as he tightened his grip, a moan of ecstasy escaping his lips.

"Fuck, baby...feels so good."

She moaned around his cock, the vibration sending a shock of pleasure through him. His hips jilted forward slightly, causing her to gag a little. He instantly pulled back, not wanting to hurt her.

In response, she grabbed onto his upper thighs with both hands and tugged his hips forward, relaxing her throat as she did to take him even farther into her.

Her watery eyes met his in a silent plea. Dean was pretty sure he knew what she wanted, so he tentatively pulled back and thrust his hips forward gently.

Her eyes seemed to light up and she moaned loudly, giving him the confirmation he needed. He gripped her head with both of his hands and he began to fuck her pretty face.

(Y/N) tightened her grip on his thighs and desperately tried to keep her eyes open and on his face. She wanted to see him come undone more than anything. At this moment, she was just along for the ride.

Dean's grip on her hair tightened to an almost painful level, but she didn't complain. The moans and whispered pleas coming from his mouth were reward enough.

"Baby, I'm so close..." he groaned.

She released a deep moan and his eyes flicked down to meet hers. The moment his gaze found hers, he came with a moan of her name. (Y/N) didn't let go of his cock until she'd swallowed every last drop of his spend before finally releasing him.

He nearly collapsed on the bed, but through the fog in his brain, he remembered (Y/N) would have needs of her own.

"Come here, baby," he said softly as he reached for her. "Lie on the bed."

She stood up with his help and laid down on the bed, feet hanging over the edge. When Dean didn't move to join her, she began to shift uncomfortably.

"You're too far away," he insisted.

She immediately started to move closer to him, but he shook his head, grabbed her hips, and tugged her to the edge of the bed where he wanted her.

She gasped in surprise. "Dean!"

He grinned as he dropped to his knees. "What? I wanna taste you."

She looked a little shy. "You don't have to."

He looked at her in confusion. "I know I don't have to...I want to."

"Oh..."

"Baby, if you taste half as delicious as you look, then I'm going to be the happiest man in the world."

"Oh," she whispered in a slightly more surprised tone.

Dean grabbed her legs and threw one over each shoulder before diving into her pussy like a starving man at a feast.

"Oh!" What started out as a pleasantly surprised sound quickly turned to moans of enjoyment.

She'd known he would be good...after all, he had a lot of practice, but she hadn't expected to feel like this. Dean's mouth had been on her pussy for less than 30 seconds and she was already a gasping mess.

Her hand fisted his hair, tugging on it slightly, legs desperately searching for something to hold onto.

Dean was an incredibly fast learner. He paid attention to what made her moan, what made her grip his hair harder, what made her squirm...he was determined to be the absolute best she'd ever had.

"Dean," she gasped. "You--it--shit...feels so good."

He grinned against her pussy before wrapping his lips around her clit and sucking intently. His tongue began to swirl around her clit, spelling out her name in fast-moving cursive.

"Oh god!"

Her legs began to tighten around his head and he had a vague thought about wanting to be smothered by her thighs...but the thought was pushed aside when she cried out, cumming all over his mouth and chin.

He hungrily lapped up as much as he could before she yanked on his hair and desperately tried to squirm away. "Sensitive, Dean!"

He finally allowed her to pull his head up and he stared at her pretty face as he licked his lips. "Infinitely better than I'd imagined," he murmured.

"Huh?" she asked, clearly still dazed from her orgasm.

He smiled as he crawled on top of her, placing a kiss to her lips. "You taste like heaven," he whispered.

She blushed, but she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her for another kiss.

He'd found himself growing hard again while he was eating her out, and as he deepened the kiss, his cock brushed against her pussy, eliciting a sharp gasp from her.

He smiled against her lips. "(Y/N)?"

"Hmm?"

"If I told you I wanted to do something really really badly, would you be willing to do it for me?"

She cocked her head to the side as she regarded him. "That would depend on what it is."

"Fair enough."

Suddenly, he flipped onto his back, taking her with him. She gasped as she found herself looking down at him from above. "You could have just asked," she said with a chuckle.

"Oh that?" He smirked darkly. "That's not what I want..."

Her breathing began to pick up pace again. "Then what do you want?"

He grinned wolfishly. "I wanna taste that sweet pussy again."

Her eyes widened. No one had ever eaten her out twice during sex. "But you just did..."

He nodded. His eyes softened as he looked at her, his fingers gently rubbing circles into her thighs. "Please baby? I would do anything."

She bit her lip. She couldn't deny, the idea of him wanting to eat her out again was an incredible turn-on...but she was still sensitive from a few minutes prior.

"Please," he begged again, green eyes widening.

She sighed, realizing there was no way she could say no to him when he was looking at her like that. "Alright."

He grinned. "That's my good girl. Now come up here."

Her pussy clenched around nothing at the praise, but then confusion settled on her face. "Come up...where?"

"Here," he said, patting his mouth. "I want you to sit on my face."

Her eyes widened in shock. "What? No! Absolutely not. No way." She tried to scramble off of him, but his strong arms held her in place.

"Why not?" he pouted.

"Umm because I could seriously hurt you! Or I don't know, smother you to death!"

He laughed lightly. "I would die a very happy man."

"I'm serious, Dean! I'm not light!"

The smile disappeared from his face as he took in the shock and disbelief on hers. He sat up and ran his hand along her cheek. "Hey, baby, look at me."

Her eyes slowly shifted to meet his.

"(Y/N), I want this. Badly. Now, I would never force you to do something you didn't want to do, but I don't want you to say no out of some misguided desire to protect me. I'm more than capable of picking you up and tossing you around, so I promise you're not going to smother me or hurt me. I wanna feel those sexy thighs of yours wrapped around my head as I devour that sweet pussy."

His eyes darkened as he spoke and it lit something inside of her. She was scared of hurting him, but she could see how much he wanted this. "I'll--I'll try," she whispered.

He smiled. "That's my girl." He laid back down on the bed. "Now come here and have a seat, gorgeous."

She blushed, but did as he told her--mostly.

"Babe, I said sit."

"I am sitting," she protested.

"No, you're not." He grabbed her hips and tugged her down so she was directly against his lips. "Fuck yes," he mumbled into her before getting to work.

(Y/N) gasped loudly. This new position changed the angle of his tongue inside of her and his nose bumped against her clit every time he moved.

Within seconds, she was a moaning mess above him, hands grasping onto the headboard for stability. Her hips started to move of their own volition and Dean gripped her hips to help facilitate the movement.

She didn't know she could feel this incredible...her body was shaking with a pleasure she'd never felt before--every nerve ending alive with need.

"Dean, I can't--I need--please."

He tightened his hold on her hips and focused his tongue on her clit as she rode his face. Seconds later, she yelled his name as she orgasmed, drenching his face in her slick.

God help him, but he didn't want to stop. He'd never been happier. The sounds she made, her taste, the need to pleasure her...all of it made him want to never stop.

Unfortunately for him, (Y/N) managed to scramble away with cries of sensitivity. She collapsed on the bed beside him, trying to catch her breath. Her legs shook with the aftershocks of her orgasm as she came down from her high.

Dean wiped his mouth and turned to look at her, a wide grin gracing his handsome face. "Thoughts?"

"You can...do that...again...anytime you want," she said between breaths.

He chuckled. "Oh, baby, don't tempt me." He rolled on top of her and gave her a soft kiss to her lips. He slowly kissed along her jaw and down to her neck, sucking on her pulse point.

She had no idea how he knew that would drive her crazy, but she was glad he did. Despite her exhaustion, she wanted him...wanted to feel him so badly she could hardly breathe. "Dean..." she whispered.

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

"I want you."

He raised his eyebrows. "Where?"

She fidgeted a little before murmuring, "Inside me."

He pressed his index finger against her lips. "Here?"

She shook her head.

"Then where, baby?"

She took his hand and guided it between her legs, placing it against her dripping pussy. "Here."

His eyes seem to sparkle as he looked down at her. He wanted to hear her demand what she wanted, but this was close enough for now.

"Anything for you, baby."

He sat up and gripped his cock, giving it a few strokes before lining himself up with her core. His eyes flicked up to hers and he asked softly, "You ready?"

She nodded.

"Words, baby."

"I'm ready, Dean, please."

He pushed into her slowly, eliciting a sharp moan from her lips. The stretch was deliciously painful, but she was desperate for him to keep going. She whined softly when he stopped to let her adjust, so he continued to push until he was fully seated inside of her.

He dropped his head down to her forehead, breathing heavily. He'd never been gripped this tightly in his life and it felt amazing.

(Y/N) had similar thoughts. He fit her perfectly...a feeling she'd never before experienced. Like the last two pieces of a puzzle locking into place.

Dean shifted his hips, starting a slow pace to keep from hurting her. Much to his surprise, she couldn't care less about the pain, she wanted more.

"Dean, faster," she whimpered.

He couldn't tell her no even if he'd wanted to, and he certainly didn't want to. He began to thrust into her with more force and speed, earning moans of pleasure from her lips.

"You feel so good, baby. Never felt this good before," he whispered softly.

The room filled with the sounds of their shared moans, the salacious slapping of skin, and the whispered words meant only for each other.

Dean was about as far from a virgin as a person could be, and (Y/N) wasn't new to this either, but he had never ever had a sexual experience even remotely close to what he was feeling with her.

Most of his experience came from one-night-stands, which meant there hadn't been feelings of any kind involved, but with (Y/N)? He could hardly breathe, it felt so right. Three words crept into his mind, but he pushed them away quickly. He didn't want to ruin this.

He focused back on the beautiful woman beneath him and his heart nearly exploded at the sight. He'd never seen anything so incredible, so beautiful, so perfect. He was dying to watch her come apart for him--he just knew it would be a sight to behold.

"Do you think you can give me another one, baby?"

Her eyes widened. "I don't know, Dean...I've never cum more than once before and I've already done it twice."

He smiled. He liked knowing he'd done something no one else ever had. "Come on, pretty girl. I know you can do it for me," he murmured.

Before she could say another word, he shifted her hips to give him better access. The new angle left her speechless as his cock slammed into that delicious soft spot deep inside of her--a spot she hadn't been certain existed until this moment.

She dug her nails into his back, clinging to him for dear life. It felt so good she could hardly think. Her brain was filled with nothing but the pleasure she was feeling.

Dean knew she was getting close and he was desperately holding back his own impending orgasm. He would be damned if he came before her. "I need you to cum for me baby. Can you do that?"

She nodded and held onto him even tighter.

Dean's motions never slowed, his aim never faltered. He was determined to push her over the edge. He wanted it more than anything.

Her legs began to shake and strangled cries left her throat as she neared orgasm. With one final thrust, (Y/N) shattered--a broken scream of his name leaving her lips.

Dean continued to thrust, chasing his own high as he helped her ride out hers. "Where do you want it?" he whispered.

In her haze, it took her a moment to figure out what he was asking her. "Inside of me," she begged. "Wanna feel you fill me up."

"Fuck," he groaned as he moved impossibly faster. Moments later, he came harder than he could ever remember, emptying inside of her for what felt like an eternity.

Eventually, his hips slowed to a stop and he nearly collapsed on top of her, completely spent and out of breath.

After a few moments, Dean pulled out and rolled over to collapse beside her on the bed. "That was...fucking amazing."

She laughed lightly. "I would have to agree."

He turned to look at her. "Best sex of my life."

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, riiiiight..." She chalked up his statement to a post-nut haze.

"I'm serious, babe. There's something different about having sex with someone you love."

(Y/N)'s entire body froze, but her mind beginning to race. He'd said earlier that he'd loved her, but she honestly hadn't believed it. Hearing him say it now reminded her that she hadn't responded to him the first time.

Dean noticed the tension immediately and suddenly realized what he'd said. He started to panic...Shit, shit shit. "(Y/N/N), I--"

She waved him off. "Dean, you don't have to explain--" she started.

He pulled away from her so he could see her face better. "That wasn't some post-orgasm utterance. I meant it--I mean it."

She laid there, desperately trying to wrap her brain around what he was saying. "What?" she said again, softer this time.

He rolled onto his side so he could see her better. He reached out and gently caressed her face, eyes watching her reaction with trepidation. "I'm in love with you, (Y/N). I've known it for a while, but it didn't seem like something you would want to hear. I said it earlier in that motel room, but we didn't really have a chance to talk about it--and I don't want you to think for even one second that I didn't mean it. I love you with everything I have, baby. I would burn this whole world to the ground for you."

Hearing Dean Winchester say those words was enough to shock her into silence, but hearing them directed at her? It was a feeling she couldn't even begin to describe. "I don't know what to say," she whispered.

Pain flashed across his face, but he hid it before she could really notice. "You don't have to say anything."

"Of course I do," she insisted. "I never expected to hear you say anything like that to anyone, let alone me. I'm struggling to find the words to say...I guess I'm just unprepared. I never thought Dean Winchester would be the one making me speechless with his beautiful words, but here we are. All I can think to say is, I love you too."

A warm smile graced his features. "I couldn't have asked for a more perfect response." He leaned down and kissed her gently. "I love you," he said again.

She smiled back. "I love you too."

Dean pulled her against his chest and held on tightly. He didn't want to let her go for fear of losing her. He knew their lives were risky--he knew either one of them could die at any time--and he didn't want to waste a single moment. He'd already wasted so much time pretending not to love her. He would never make that mistake again.

Apparently (Y/N) was having similar thoughts because she whispered, "I never thought I'd be thankful for a Siren."

Dean chuckled lightly and kissed the top of her head. "Me neither, baby. Me neither."

#supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x plus!size reader smut #plus sized reader

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silassinclair · 1 year

Text

Like Looking into a Mirror

(PolyLostBoys x Fem!ArtistReader)

Summary: Being a vampire has it's ups and downs. But one of the biggest downs was that you couldn't see yourself. Whether it be in photographs or reflections. This means that neither of the boys have seen what they themselves look like since they were turned. So when a shy little artist introduces herself to the boys with a painting of all of them they realize they not only know what they look like but also have found their mate.

Santa Carla is a city of opportunity. A place flourishing with job opportunity and people buzzling about everywhere. But for yourself, a struggling artist, it was the opposite. Running away from home was supposed to be your fresh start, a way to get away from it all and live your life to the fullest. To paint to your heart's desire. But it was nothing like that.

There were no places for you to work and use your artistry to the fullest. The only place you found where you could work was the library. Reading itself was an art but not exactly your forte, but it was close enough and payed decently.

It was 8 at night. The sun set and the amusement park alive with people. By the beach wall you sat with a miniature canvas, paints, and brushes. Every night you'd come to the boardwalk and paint it's colorful passerby's. Unlike your old small town people here dressed unique. So many colors and style subcultures.

Scanning the crowd you hunted for your new inspiration. Person or people to replicate onto your canvas. Your direction was pulled to the sounds of purring engines. To your left under a streetlamp by the very wall you were sitting on, four men looking your age parked their bikes. Their fashion stood out amongst anyone you have ever seen on the boardwalk.

A bleached platinum blonde. His mullet stood sharp, almost as sharp as his eyes. A tall brunet with no shirt under his long coat. His long hair rested on his back. A natural blonde with wild hair and a just as wild personality. And finally the short one with long blonde curls and a face that could combat a cherub's.

Everything about them was perfect. You studied them for minutes and looked away when you felt their curious gazes turn to you. Having all their features down to memory you painted away. You painted all of them standing together standing in their own way. Straight and confident, collected and cool, laid back, goofy.

As you painted each of the men's features you smiled to yourself. This may have been one of your best works yet. When you finished the piece in an hour or two you would definitely give it to them as a gift. Usually you would give the paintings you made of people to them to see their reactions. Every time they were always very grateful and happy, seeing them smile is the reason why art is your passion.

You really hope they would appreciate it though, since they are your temporary muse of inspiration and these four seem pretty intimidating.

"Yeah man I'm telling you she kept looking at us. But when I would look at her she'd look away and start writing shit on her canvas or whatever." Paul said while nudging David. He didn't care when his friend told him that the girl to their right kept sneaking glances at them.

Girls stare at him and his vampiric brothers all the time. What can he say? He knows him and his brothers are hotter than hell so who wouldn't stare?

"What Paul, you wanna talk to her or something? Just go talk to the chick like what you always do." David said with an eyeroll and a freshly lit cigarette hanging from his lips.

Paul bashfully looked down and scratched his neck. "Dude I dunno.. she doesn't seem too interested. Probably looking at us because we dress weird?"

Now David was confused. Was his flirt machine of a brother.. shy? A sly grin curled onto the platinum blondes lips. He looked to Dwayne and Marko and those two seemed to catch on quick about Paul's little crush.

Putting his arm around his blonde brother David said, "Do you perhaps like this girl Pauly?"

Paul growled and shoved him off making Marko and Dwayne holler in laughter.

"Dude you're fucking whipped! Why didn't you tell us sooner?" Marko laughed and held his chest. Paul hit him upside the head with his palm.

"Shut the fuck up!"

Dwayne's laughing reduced to small chuckles. He looked over at the girl who Paul seemed so flustered over. She was wearing a long frilly black skirt and a sage green blouse. Her hair styled uniquely and anklets and bracelets adorned their respected limbs.

"Hm.." Dwayne hummed, "I get what you mean Paul."

Paul shot his taller brother a glare. "Yeah. Should have at least checked her out before makin' fun o' me."

Marko looked over to see what all the fuss was over. His eyes widened a fraction when he saw the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. And she was painting too, something he adored doing.

Sensing someone looking at her Y/n looked up and four pairs of eyes were on her. The eyes of the subjects she was painting at the moment. Feeling like she had been caught doing something wrong, she looked back down at her canvas in a flash and finished up the final finishing touches.

"She was totally checking us out." Paul said smirking, well his insecurity flew out the window.

"Dude she's cute as hell man. How'd we not see her around before? And why didn't you tell us Pauly!" Marko grabbed his terror twin by the shoulders and shook him back and forth.

David snapped his fingers and the two instantly stopped with their rough housing. "We're all going to approach her. Perhaps we will have a meal tonight boys, or more."

Deadly smiles grew on the pack's faces. Time to do what they knew best. Lure and capture.

You stood up when you finally finished the painting. The four of them painted in their signature clothing. All standing together. Two of them smiling and two not. Honestly, you were scared to give this painting to them. What if they didn't like it? Or what if they thought you were some kind of weird stalker?

Walking to the group of the four bikers they all seemed to perk up at your sudden presence.

"What a surprise, we were just about to walk over to you babydoll." The curly haired one said. Your grip on the canvas tightened. Seeming to notice the tallest and only brunet of the group asked,

"What's that you got there sweetheart?"

Ignoring the soaring feeling in your stomach you avoided eye contact with the group and quietly muttered your explanation, "U-Uhm I'm an artist and stuff... It's a hobby and stuff and I paint people on the board walk all the time. And when I saw a-all you four I couldn't help but notice how uniquely dressed you all are. So I painted all of you!"

Looking up at the group finally with a crooked smile on your face you showed them your work and flipped your canvas around revealing your work.

All four of them brought their faces close to the canvas, the two wild blondes started to push and shove and what seemed like the leader of the group punched both of their arms.

"You really did this?" The platinum blonde said. He looked into your eyes, a mixed emotion behind his. His gloved finger pointed at himself painted realistically.

"That's me?"

You nodded and handed the painting to him which he gently accepted.

"Of course that's you silly. I painted the four of y-you. Hope you all like it!"

The four boys looked up at you gratefully. It was sudden but the brunette pulled you into a hug. He didn't seem like the touchy type and it surprised you with his sudden action.

"Thank you sweetheart. My brothers and I appreciate this... a lot. A lot more than you may think." He released you from his chilling yet warm embrace.

"No need to thank me.."

"Dwayne."

"Dwayne, I do this to make people like you and your brother happy. It's what I love about art ya'know?"

He smiled and introduced each of his brothers. David, Paul, and Marko.

"I am truly grateful for this kitten. Say, you wanna ride with us? You know where Hudson's Bluff is right?"

Nodding you let him continue.

"Wanna hang out with us four for the night? Promise we won't let you be bored for even a minute." His black gloved hand twirled a lock of your h/c hair around his finger.

Shyly moving away you muster up the courage to agree and go with him. He asked who you wanted to ride with and Paul seemed to be the most eager to get you to ride with him, so you gave in and got on the back of his bike.

"Hold on doll!" He revved his engine while his brother did the same. Hooting and hollering they sped down the sandy beach taking you to their cave.

"This is just the beginning!" Paul yelled over the sound of the engines. Not understanding him well you tightened your embrace around his torso and leaned in closer.

"You're gonna love us I promise!" Now that one you heard.

this was lowkey dogpiss but my head hurts so oopsie daisy

#the lost boys x reader #poly lost boys x reader #david the lost boys #paul the lost boys #marko the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #the lost boys 1987

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wynnyfryd · 2 months

Text

Trailer park Steve AU part 52

part 1 | part 51 | ao3

cw: period-typical homophobia, canon-typical violence, blood

"I'm just saying!" Eddie laughs as he swings himself around the slender base of a young tree, cigarette dangling from his lips. "I could absolutely rock the blue eyeshadow look the main chick was wearing."

Steve doesn't disagree. They're in a dark alcove on the side of the movie theater, Eddie's hair all lit up from behind, a frizzy halo of pinks and blues from the neon radiating off the front of the building, and he looks fucking gorgeous, and he smells like menthol and strawberry shake, and he's been tapping Steve's wrist so much tonight that he might as well be drumming up a new song just for them.

"Can't argue with that," Steve murmurs as he steps up onto the concrete planter. Gets up in Eddie's space; borrows his cigarette, his words floating out on a thin wisp of smoke. "You look beautiful."

"Beautiful," Eddie mimics, tasting the word, looking unbelievably pleased with the flavor that he finds. His eyes go hooded, and there's a sly tilt to his mouth as his tongue slips out to tease the edge. "You tryin' to start somethin', Harrington?"

Steve's answering hum rumbles deep in his chest. His cock aches in his jeans. God, he wants him; wants to back him up a good ten feet until his body scrapes the bricks. Wants to rough him up a little, like Eddie did to him the first time they kissed — make his breath hitch and his skin buzz and his back arch under his touch.

"Oh, you are," Eddie purrs. He takes the cigarette back, their fingers brushing on the exchange, and they're standing so close now, nothing but this skinny tree between them, just a twig of a thing, really, the toes of their shoes touching on either side of the base.

Steve looks down at the snowy soil. Taps Eddie's wrist. Desperately. Frantically. Take me home right now, so help me—

A low whoop echoes off the pavement.

A predatory jeer, and Steve looks up to see three men approaching — three boys, about their age, and drunk, by the looks of it. He grits his teeth.

Their ringleader looks like a caricature; classic bad boy who thinks too highly of himself, some cheap knock-off mash up of Billy Hargrove and Rob Lowe. Steve eyes the shaggy mullet, the dangly earring skimming the lapel of his black jacket, the silver flask and the stupid swagger, and his blood runs hot. Thrums with the promise of a fight.

“Well shit, boys,” the guy grins to his sidekicks, taking a long swig and wiping his mouth. Gleeful malice in green eyes. Little asshole gets close enough for Steve to make out the color; gets right up in Steve’s face and sneers, “Looks like we got ourselves a couple of queers to smear.”

Really? Steve thinks. We’re doing playground games right now? He folds his arms over his chest, flattens his voice; disinterested. “Do you have somewhere else to be?”

Eddie smokes his cigarette, and the smoke curls around them in short, unsteady puffs.

The guy snarls, “Do you?”

Beside him, his friend’s hands ball up in fists. A vicious voice in Steve’s head whispers: plant your fucking feet.

“Nah,” Steve answers. He takes a step in front of Eddie; widens his stance, digs his heels into the mulch. Slight crouch; deep breath. “Think I’m right where I need to be.”

“Fuckin’ freak,” the guy spits at the ground. He sways and pivots just a little, like maybe he’s about to slither back off to wherever he came from. Or maybe he’s about to throw his full weight into a swing.

Eddie’s breath whistles. His nose still healing from the break. “Seriously, man,” he tries as he drops the cigarette, crushing the butt under his boot. His voice is thin; hands up; don’t shoot. “Just- just fuck off, alright? We don’t want any—”

The first punch is slow. Sloppy. Steve sees it coming and dips low to dodge, and the jab cracks against the tree, spraying ice and splintered bark, the sound sharp in his good ear. It’s a plate over his head; it’s Billy cackling while the world dims, and Steve sees fucking red. Tastes metal and acid and rot, and all his ghosts are with him; all of Eddie’s, too. Hargrove, and Andy, and Jason fucking Carver; all the faceless specters of whoever pummeled him that night at the bar, whoever dared to lay a finger on him when Steve wasn’t there to be a shield.

But he’s here now, and his answering punch lands hard — sickening crunch as his uppercut connects with the kid’s ribs, knocks the wind out of him. The guy grunts and doubles over, but he gets in a good swing on the way down.

Steve tastes blood at the edge of his lip.

Someone grabs him by the collar.

One of the guy’s friends, freezing fingers pawing at his shoulder, at his throat, and he pulls back hard until his shirt rips at the neckline and frees him from the hold. Ducks again to dodge a blow, swivels and pops discount Rob Lowe right under the chin.

The kid’s teeth clack together as he bites his own tongue. Steve watches his head fly back like it’s about to fall off — like a ragdoll, like a bobblehead, like it’s happening in slow motion. He collapses on the sidewalk and cracks his head against the bricks, and he's down, he's out, but there’s two more still coming, one in front and one on Steve's right, and that one looks tall and broad enough to do some real damage.

Steve squares his shoulders; braces himself for another concussion, because this is— fuck, is the guy on the ground bleeding?

This is bad.

This is really bad.

And then he hears it.

A familiar thwick, a metallic slice through the sudden stillness in the air as Eddie pulls his knife out of his boot and flicks it open.

"Back the fuck off!" he growls; lunges forward with the blade and stabs at empty air, the metal gleaming like an oath. His expression is wild, sweat on his lip and at his temples, bangs sticking to his brow.

Steve spits blood onto the concrete.

Everyone backs the fuck off.

—

"Holy shit," Eddie pants as they haul ass out of the lot. Fingers trembling on the steering wheel, knee jiggling so badly it jangles all his pins and chains. His whole body is shaking. The radio is off.

In the rearview, Steve gets a glimpse of their attackers dragging their limp friend by the armpits through a snowy flowerbed. He thinks he sees a streak of blood.

“Did you know them?” he asks, his eyes glued to the reflection.

Eddie rolls the next three stop signs.

“No,” he finally says. Swallows hard in the simmering quiet. “They were just some guys.”

—

part 53

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #my fic

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ectologia · 8 months

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Can I please make a request? Instead of being told to kill Best Jeanist to prove himself to the League of Villains, Keigo is taken to a room with an innocent civilian and told to rape her. He goes through with it and feels guilty but ends up enjoying it a lot more than he’d like to admit. The nastier the better!

I love this idea! hope it’s nasty enough for you anon ♡

BAD GUY

KEIGO TAKAMI X F!READER + FEATURING TOUYA TODOROKI (DABI)

𝐂𝐖 ♱ DUBCON/NONCON, KIDNAPPING, SHIBARI, CHAINS, VAGINAL BLEEDING, GAGS, BLINDFOLDS, ABUSE, PROFANITY, CREAMPIE

“The fuck you mean change of plan?”

Keigo shifts in his rigid stance, his fingers twitching in anxious waiting.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it pretty boy.” Dabi slings an arm over Keigo’s tense shoulders, hooking the heavy appendage around his neck to tug him along.

The moment the door is swung open, he’s met with the foul stench of stale air and oxidised blood. His nose twitches and curls at the numerous metal chains clinging to the crumbling walls of what he can only assume is some kind of dungeon or torture chamber. His eyes squint at the distorted figure hung against the back wall.

Your broken, bruised wrists twitch in their rusted confines, cuffed to the ceiling where your ankles are collected with them, legs spread and strung open like a dirty fuck-puppet.

Keigo’s eyes follow as he watches Dabi saunter towards you, slapping your inner thigh and jolting you awake. “Got this one special.” he jiggles the ripened flesh, swinging you back and forth in your restraints. “Stretched her out for you ‘n everything.” Keigo’s top lip raises in disgust as Dabi brings two fingers down to press against your swollen pussy lips, spreading the delicate flesh open to give an informative view of your gaping hole, already stuffed with blood and a not so ominous white fluid, dribbling down your puffy slit all the way to your taint.

Keigo stares wide eyed and somewhat disturbed, blinking down at the miniature puddle of semen, tinted red.

Dabi clicks his tongue, sighing. “Well, come on then. This bitch ain’t gonna fuck herself.”

A blond head snaps up, eyes slitted and narrowed. “What?”

A dark chuckle resounds throughout the dimly lit vault. “You heard me, hero.” Dabi circles Keigo like a sickly vulture with a wicked grin, shuffling through his pocket. “You wanna’ prove your loyalty to the L.O.V?” He fiddles with the wheel of his lighter until the wick ignites.

“Fuck her.”

“Who is she?” Keigo snaps back in an instance.

Dabi snickers, eyeing the swiftly burning embers of his cigarette. “How the fuck do I know? She’s just some random chick we picked up. Who cares anyway, don’t gotta know her name to stick your dick in her.” He reasons, smirking behind the smouldering stick tucked between his fingers.

Keigo snarls through grit teeth. “Is this what you meant by change of plan? you want me to ra—”

“Rape her?” Dabi cocks his head with a mocking pout. He takes another lengthy drag of his cigarette before pivoting to face Keigo, allowing the murky tendrils of smoke to encase him in a cloud of grey. “Yeah, I do.” He tuts. “But that shouldn’t be a problem for you, should it Hawks?”

Against his will, Keigo is shoved towards your limp body, flinching. He grimaces as a sloppy string of drool slides off of your tongue, slipping through the metal ring of the gag fitted between your teeth, prying your tired jaws open.

“If you’re worried about your lil’ reputation, don’t. She can’t see you.” He juts his chin towards the stained cloth tied over your eyes, used as a make-shift blindfold.

“You’re a sick bastard, you know that?” Keigo huffs, refusing to acknowledge the pebbled nipples and perfectly vulnerable pussy spread out in-front of him like a fucking buffet.

“You wanna be a villain? Then you gotta’ fuckin’ act like one.” Dabi slumps against the wall, folding a thick arm below his chest.

Keigo scowls, thumbing the leather of his belt. “Alright, you gonna get the fuck out, or what?”

“Nah, boss wants me to watch. Make sure you don’t try anything funny.”

A bitter chuckle escapes Keigo, shaking his head. “Or you’re just lookin’ to get off to this shit?”

“Hey, I’ve actually got better things to being doing then sitting here and watching you fail at lasting more than 2 minutes.” Dabi frowns, flicking at the brittle ash clinging to his cigarette.

The situation isn’t funny, so why does he feel like laughing?

Your ears perk at the taunting clang and zip of a belt buckle being dropped to the ground. Your frantic attempts to pull away prove futile the moment two thickly gloved hands wrap around your thighs, cupping the domes of your ass to bring your pulsing slit closer to his already pumped and steaming length.

“Look at you.” Dabi whistles at the scene. “Already got a nice little boner going on, ready to pound some pussy blondie?”

“Shut up.” Keigo barks over his shoulder, fisting his bobbing cock as he decides the best way to approach.

Does he go in slow and let you adjust?.. Or does he just shove it all in at once and get it over with? short and sweet.. Well, not really sweet but you get the gist.

Is there really any nice way to rape somebody?

He goes for something in between, sheathing himself all the way inside until the chubby tip of his prick prods at your cervix. Your screams are muffled by the silver o-gag separating your tongue from the rest of your contorted mouth, only allowing slips of guttural hums and cries. It’s difficult to fuck your pussy comfortably given how you’ve been practically pinned to the wall, so Keigo makes do, using the stringy chains wrapped around your limbs as a handle to pull you back and forth on his dick while he juts into your swollen cunt.

“Mmh.. Shit.”

He doesn’t want to admit it, but it feels damn good fucking you like this. Completely helpless, hanging from the ceiling with your legs bent backwards all for him to rape and hurt. His rhythm increases in tempo, no longer shy, shallow thrusts but deep, meaningful, powerful ones. He leans backwards, using one hand to tug on your restraints while the other fondles your fat tits and nipples. The flimsy nibs are picked and flicked at, twisted between the rough pads of his leather-clad fingers.

“There you go.” Dabi hums, almost raising a hand to applaud him in his endeavour. “That’s much better. Now slap her around a bit.”

Keigo’s hips falter as he turns his neck to Dabi.

“You heard me bird boy, spank that bitch.”

Keigo huffs. With every sharp blow, a new red and purple mark seeps through the canvas of your delicate skin. Your tits and thighs jiggle against the harshness of his hand, twitching and flinching away from his abuse.

“Holy fuckin’ shit.” he hisses, turning white knuckled as he clamps down harder on the ringing chains holding you above him. “She’s fuckin’ clenching man.”

Dabi nods in agreement, nursing on the damp end of his cigarette.

“Can I nut in her?”

“You do whatever the fuck you want, I ain’t gonna say no.” Dabi laughs. “And she sure as hell ain’t either.” He jabs the smoked pick in your direction before dusting himself clean of it, crushing the paper beneath a thick rubber sole.

“Fuck sake, I’m gonna cum so hard.”

He howls, throwing his head back the moment his cock spurts, pumping your pussy full of hot jizz. He hooks his elbows below your knees, pressing himself into you while he empties his heavy balls into your womb. “Take it, oh yeah, take it girlie. Take it all in that tight little fuckin’ twat.” The rapid shiver of your legs does well to encourage him.

Ropes of sloppy, bubbling white cum spew out onto the floor as he retracts, dripping down with a wet pap.

Keigo turns, gasping and heaving like a wild animal, his red raw cock bouncing against his balls as he moves. “Am I done here?..”

Dabi taps a finger against his chin, blinking up at the ceiling as though deep in thought. “Hm..”

“I think you can go another round.”

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #dabi #bnha smut #hawks #keigo takami #takami keigo #keigo takami smut #keigo takami x reader #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo smut #keigo smut #bnha hawks #hawks x reader #hawks smut #bnha keigo takami #mha keigo takami

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kawataslvr · 2 months

Note

u my new favorite author istg

(no one be ded plz) can i request a Mikey x male reader where reader used to date sanzu but caught him cheating with some dr**ged out chick and was going to Emma and just happened to stumble upon Mikey when knocking on the front door and before even noticing who it was, reader ran forward and hugged Mikey and starting silently crying while Mikey was just like “(°_°) who tf is this and why are they so hot” completely ignoring the shorter male hugging him before reader realized they werent hugging Emma and was about to run away before Draken shows up to pick Mikey up to go to a Toman meeting and reader just panics before Mikeys like “Ken-chin….can we keep him”(maybe a smut scene or something-)

idk im obsessed with Mikey rn hdisichfbebnfkd u dont have to use that idea, ill take anything Mikey x male reader or Mikey + Draken x male reader sorry sorry im so demanding ahhh ill leave now, love ur works btw djisjdb

Summary : Angst -> Fluff -> Short Smut ,, if you want a solid description just read the ask ! ,, Suggestive Language near the beginning , SLIGHT Drug mentions bcz its sanzu ,, angst w/ comfort ,, smut near the end ,, ft. draken & emma

A/N : MY FAVORITE CHARACTER IS MIKEY I SAW THIS REQ N LIT UP OMG , dwdw ur not demanding at all <3! i actually rlly like the amount of detail so it gives me an idea !! also tysm im so honored to be ur current fav ❤��❤️ I hope the request is to your liking dear!! sorry the end is so short, i was running out of time :,)

typicxlcato req ,, part 2

Your mind was scrambled, confused and tired. All he needed was to cry into a friends arms, you had caught Sanzu making out with some druggie whore, as soon as you walked into the scene you immediately ran out and went to go see Emma.

Not that she didn’t expect you to come to her crying about Sanzu, not like it was the first time it happened, she’d already warn you about him how his “whole vibe was off” and you “shouldn’t get involved with a guy like that.”

Knocking at the Sano residence door, you didn’t really care who had opened it your body instinct kicked in and hugged the person in front of you.

“Eh—!?” Mikey said in a confused tone, the blond completely ignoring how the smaller male was clinging to him and how he was silently crying in his arms.

The blonde looked down at the boy who was clinging onto him, as usual.. a thought really didn’t go through Mikey’s head only that the guy who was hugging him was actually kind of hot.

Unintentionally he was now staring directly into his eyes and you pulled away in shock, before you could run away or he could say something, you both heard a deep voice from the entrance, of course panicking your body froze completely in confusion while tears still rolled down your cheeks and you stood there awkwardly.

“Oi! Mikey, the meetings about to start soon!” Draken walked in the door, to see a boy crying and Mikey right beside him.

Was this a friend of Mikey’s? He knew he’d seen him around Emma whenever he came over, but his thoughts were interrupted once he heard Mikey speak up from the awkward silence that lingered in the room.

“Ken-chinnn.. can we keep himm?” Draken side eyed the blonde and looked at him with an angry expression “Mikey you dumbass! Its not like hes some pet!”

Naturally, with all the yelling Emma came out of her room. Also because she heard Drakens voice.

“Huh..? Y/N!” Emma quickly walked up to you and hugged you once she saw you crying, Draken and Mikey figured out the two were obviously friends pretty quickly.

Mikey would be lying if he didn’t find this friend of Emma’s cute, cute enough to cancel the Toman meeting too apparently.

you had calmed down after talking to Emma getting the whole “I told you, were too good for that guy anyways.” pep talk from her and the two just hanging out normally.

While Mikey decided to stick around at the Sano residence and catch glances of you.

Emma had left to go get a few batch of snacks for you and her from the convenience store nearby, knowing you probably weren’t in the mood to go outside.. she left you alone on the couch to wait for her while you just sat on your phone.

Mikey had wanted to approach you ever since the small little incident that happened when you first arrived, he couldn’t get over how hot you looked.

“Y/N,, right?” he asked and sat down next to you, watching as your head perked up in a little surprised manner and you set down your phone.

he found it all adorable.

“Ah.. yes, you must be Mikey then?” Mikey had to control himself, he couldn’t help how his eyes were drawn to your beautiful lips.

He’d never met someone as pretty as you he swore.

“You’re so pretty Y/N.” the words slipped out of the blondes lips, not like it wasn’t something he intended to say anyways.

Watching your face turn red at the complement.

Mikey and you yourself didn’t know how you ended up in this position, both of you in his room hoping Emma would take her sweet time with getting those snacks as the two of you heatedly made out on his bed.

Mikey’s hands roaming around your body while yours were wrapped around his neck, oh you definitely weren’t sad anymore.

You’d forgotten the entire reason you were sad in the first place now , this was too god to spoil with the thought of that bastard.

Mikey pulled away and moved down to place hickeys on your neck, letting you catch your breath as he pulled you onto his lap.

His hands still roaming and touching at your body, sliding underneath your shirt.

“y..y/n.. can I?” you nodded your head catching your breath from the earlier make out session.

Mikey slid his hands underneath your shirt, groping under neath making you let out soft mewls and moans of his name.

Before Emma came back the two were too tired out and ruined, laying naked with a blanket on top of each other while they cuddled up to each other.

Mikey and you could deal with this when you woke up, all Mikey knew is that you were worth canceling the toman meeting over.. and you knew Mikey was way better than Sanzu.

#tokyo revengers #bottom reader #male reader #x male reader #mikey x male #mikey x male reader #manjiro x male reader #manjiro x male #manjiro sano #sano mikey manjiro #mikey x y/n #mikey smut #yushi reqs #typicxlcato asks

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bunnylovesani · 5 months

Text

Miss Congeniality

Chapter 1

Content warnings: suggestive and derogative language, reader being humiliated, mentions of panties and arousal

WC: 2.4k

You stared at the clock and huffed, it was 10 minutes past midnight. Your older brother Jaden and his best friend Anakin should’ve come home by now.

“Good night honey, don’t stay up too late, you need your beauty sleep for the pageant tomorrow!” your mother cooed as she walked past your door, peering into your admittedly childishly decorated bedroom.

You had turned 19 last month but still hadn’t gotten over your fixation for all things pink and frilly, your walls adored with posters of your favourite singers and your bedsheets decorated with petite lace bows on every corner. You wrapped your satin bedrobe tight around yourself as you got up and headed downstairs to the lounge, where you’d spent many nights staring at the door waiting for your favourite boys to come home from their escapades.

Your gaze settled on a large framed photo of you resting on the mantlepiece, wearing a pageant crown and smiling gracefully. Sure, you were mommy and daddy’s pride and joy, the most beautiful girl in the county and latest winner of the teen Miss Naboo competition, but you were bored. A whole lifetime of always being the good girl had taken its toll and left you with a feeling of discontenment and envy. You saw the way other girls had fun, sneaking out at night and going to parties with handsome boys- Anakin always had a crowd of women swarming him and you hated that you felt jealous at the attention he gave them.

You knew ultimately you were above all that, you knew that you were saving yourself for a worthy man, one who would appreciate the efforts you made to keep yourself pure. But sometimes, when you saw the veins snaking their way down Ani’s arms, with his black band tees rolled up to his muscular elbows and his plump lips playing with his tongue piercing, you feared you might not be able to hold back much longer. As if your thoughts summoned him, the door swung open and the raucous laughter of the boys filled the stately family home.

“Did you see the way that chick was giving me fuck-me eyes? She totally wants it, I’ve got half a mind to - oh. Sis, what are you doing still up?” Jaden’s face fell as he hung his coat up.

“I was just making myself a cup of cocoa, trying to soothe my nerves for the competition tomorrow.” You lied. You couldn’t care less about the pageant and you didn’t even really like cocoa. You just wanted to be there to catch a glimpse of your favourite emo boy.

“Oh yeah, forgot that shit was tomorrow. Do I still have to drive you?” Jaden rolled his eyes, he never did understand the appeal of being paraded around like a prized pig.

“No, I presumed you’d be too inebriated from the night before so I asked daddy already.” You happily chittered, unconsciously raising your nightie just a little so that your brother’s friend might catch a better glimpse of your freshly moisturised, strawberry scented thighs. He didn’t pay it any notice as per usual, not that it stopped you from trying.

“Ah you know me too well.” Jaden chuckled “Good luck with that, let’s go Anakin.”

“Wait, wait! How was your night? Did you guys have fun?” You pouted, big doe eyes staring at them in disappointment to have not been filled in on their nighttime adventures.

“Oh you don’t wanna hear about that sweetheart” Ani finally spoke, smirking. “Your brother is quite the Cassanova.”

“That’s enough of that, off to bed with you” Jaden interrupted him, motioning for you to leave before slipping into the kitchen to help himself to the pot of fresh cocoa you’d made.

“You know, you look really creepy when you’re sat there like that right in front of the door. At least turn on a lamp or some shit.” Anakin uttered harshly, making your cheeks burn up with embarassment.

“Um, I, I’m sorry? I’ll make sure the place is lit up like a christmas tree next time.” You muttered, staring at the ground and silently cursing your obedient nature. God, he had a way of making you feel small. The slight smirk that creeped up on his face made you suspect that he liked that.

“Now that I think about it, why is it that you happen to be in the living room every time I come through the door? Do you wanna hang out with us that bad?” Anakin sniggered in that signature cocky way only he knows how.

“Oh shut up, I have better things to do than to sit around smoking joints with 2 college dropouts.” You rolled your eyes, was it that obvious? Clearly you would have to find a better cover than drinking hot chocolate.

“Goddamn, this cocoa tastes like shit. Are you sure you didn’t make it with mud?!” Jaden emerged from the kitchen sipping from his mug and scowling, eliciting a cackle from Anakin. “Don’t ever try cooking sis, stick to looking pretty in dresses.” he tousled your hair as he walked past you and up the stairs to his room. Anakin gave you one last look, subtly dropping his glare down to your legs before smiling ever so slightly as he followed his friend. The second of eye contact made your heart pound with a worrying intensity and you had to calm your racing mind before the inappropriate thoughts started forming again.

It had been a week since the last time the boys hung out, and in this moment you wished it’d been longer as you sat in bed, enveloped in your pink fluffy blanket - huffing at the sounds of Anakin and Jaden howling with laughter next door. What could possibly be so funny that it induces such animalistic noise? Once the guffawing was so loud that you could no longer hear your movie over it, you resolutely climbed out of bed, slid your slippers on and marched over to your brother’s room across the hallway. As soon as you opened the door, the pungent smell of their sweet, earthy joint hit you.

“Ah, so that’s why you’re laughing so hard.” You cross your arms at the sight of them convulsing with giggles. “Can you cretins keep it down?”

“Apologies, are we disturbing your Barbie movie marathon?” A very dishevelled looking Jaden grinned. “Or are you watching Enchanted again? How many times have I told you, stop dreaming about Prince Charming, he’s not coming.” You furrow your brows, about to launch a tirade on your brother when Anakin interjects.

“Oh my God, what are those?” he points at your slippers. “Are you wearing fluffy pink bunnies on your feet? Seriously?” He covers his mouth with his hand to stop the giggles that threaten to burst through. You stare down at the dopey faces of the little bunnies sticking out of your shoes.

“No! I mean yes but these are old, mom bought them for me, they were just lying around and I’m kinda cold.” The excuses started flowing out as Anakin glared at you endearingly.

“Oh my God, why are you lying? They’re her favourite ones, she wears them every day.” Jaden sniggers and you wonder why you even tried to lie with your brother there.

“Aw, you don’t have to lie sweetie, I think it’s cute. Pretty little pageant princess in her pink slippers.” Anakin smiles and you’re unsure whether he’s mocking you.

Feeling mortified, you run out and slam your bedroom door closed- a resounding bang being heard as the bedrobe and nightie that hung on the back fell off the hook and spilled onto the floor. For their information, you were watching a documentary. You know he dismissed you as nothing other than his friend’s childish little sister, just a brat who couldn’t ever keep up with him- he was 4 years older than you after all.

But you’re not a little girl anymore. Sure, your favourite colour was pink and you pranced around on stage in ballgowns, but you were a woman now. You had come into your own this year and you saw the whole world differently. You had never usually paid any mind to the boys that circulated around the house with your brother- but now they piqued your interest immensely, one in particular. You’ll never forget the first day you really noticed him.

It was last winter, you had gone to support your big brother at one of his hockey matches as you often loved doing. It was the semi-finals and he had led his team to a resounding victory as captain, rushing the barricades towards you and your parents, arms raised and fists curled in a triumphant dance that you mirrored. He engulfed you in a callous bear hug, easily enveloping you before clambering over to your parents. Over the broad shoulders of the players, you caught a glimpse of him.

His dark hair swooped messily over his forehead, thick eyebrows furrowed over his piercing blue eyes as he hung back from the rest of the team, choosing to avoid the adoring crowd and slip away into the changing rooms. You experienced a visceral response to seeing him in that oversized hockey jersey, so much so that you saw it in your dreams for the next month.

Suddenly, the unobtrusive guy who hung around your brother and occasionally teased you for the way you dressed became so much more than that. You felt on edge every time he came over, rushing over to your room to put on some lipgloss or change into a cuter dress before casually walking past the hallway a suspicious amount of times, hoping he would get a glimpse of you through the open crack in Jaden’s door. Luckily for you, your oaf of a brother never caught on, and if Anakin did, he never made it known.

Whilst reminiscing, you heard a knock on the door.

“Hey, it’s just me.” Ani’s sweet voice sounded. “I didn’t mean to upset you, we were just playing around.” You got up from your wallowing position in bed and straightened up like an arrow.

“Oh no, it’s fine, I wasn’t upset. I’m used to it.” You smiled sheepishly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “But thanks anyway.”

“I meant what I said. It’s good you have a strong identity, it’s what makes you you. You shouldn’t pay any mind to what others say, least of all me. I mean I’ve had plenty of choice comments about my look but I wouldn’t be Anakin without the piercings or the headphones or the bad attitude now, would I?” He leans on the doorframe and looks at you curiously. You have to take a deep breath to suppress a full body shiver, you don’t think you can take much longer of him staring at you like you’re his next meal.

“What’s all this- oh my“ he spots your nightie on the floor and picks it up. “Who are you trying to impress wearing this missy?” he closely inspects the white satin dress adorned with a lace trim, rubbing the rough pads of his fingers over the smooth fabric.

“And this?” He picks up the scandalous red panties sprawled out next to his feet and observes them as they dangle off his finger.

“Anakin! Put those down!” You jolt up towards him in an attempt to frantically snatch them out of his hand but he simply holds them up in the air so that you can’t reach. You weren’t a short girl by any means but you felt like one next to Ani’s staggering height.

“Oh this is priceless, are you telling me you actually wear these around the house? Or is it to your pageants, do you have some kind of boyfriend we don’t know about?” He laughs, clearly enjoying this abuse of power.

“No I don’t, not that it’s any of your business!” You huffed, slapping his chest in indignant frustration. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to look pretty for yourself.”

“Oh sweetheart, I don’t believe you. Because these aren’t pretty panties, this is a very slutty thong. One that someone would only wear if they were expecting to get laid.” His raspy voice dropped in tone, like he was saying something he didn’t want anyone else to hear. “Are you trying to get laid?”

A whimper almost escaped your lips at the unexpected question. Suddenly you were aware of how close your face was to his and that both your hands were resting on his chest.

“I won’t even dignify that with a response.” You muttered quietly, maintaining eye contact.

“Ah, who would’ve thought Jaden’s little sister would be such a slut. I bet daddy wouldn’t be happy to find out his little girl wears these.” He wraps his hand around the panties and subtly pockets them into his baggy black jeans.

“If I were really a slut then you’d be the first to know about it.” The words slipped out as you turned away from him.

“What?” He grabbed you by the wrist and turned you back around. “What do you mean by that?”

“I’ve never even been with one guy, let alone enough to make me a slut.” You admitted coyly, regretting the words as soon as they came out.

“You really are a good girl, aren’t you?” His gaze is so intense you worry your knees might buckle. “Something’s gonna have to be done about that.”

His fingers trace your collarbone as he takes one last look into your helpless eyes before turning around, smirking to himself as he leaves the room. You sigh a breath of relief at his absence, trying not to pay too much attention to the growing wetness between your thighs. This was not going to bode well for your vow of chastity.

Wait a minute, did he take your panties?

Next Chapter

#hayden christensen #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin x you #anakin x reader #anakin fanfiction #star wars anakin #sw anakin #Hayden Christensen smut #sam monroe #life as a house #star wars smut #star wars fanfiction #sam monroe x reader #Hayden Christensen x reader #anakin fluff #anakin Skywalker fluff #Hayden Christensen fluff

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startrekfangirl2233-writes · 5 months

Text

Bookmark my Heart

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader

Description: You're not the audiobook type. You much prefer reading over listening to books. It would just be your luck that an audiobook got you into this predicament. His eyes are piercing as you fumble with your phone to mute the volume, his voice blaring from the device.

Warnings: None! (Though I do believe Flirty!Rooster is a warning I should call out.)

Themes: Meet-Cute, Flirting, Coffee, Books, Smut Books

Word Count: 3456

A/N: So, if you all aren't aware, today is the lovely @roosterforme's birthday! I couldn't think of a better way to celebrate Em and all of the amazing things she does more than to write some Rooster for her. Happy Birthday! I hope your day is as wonderful as you are! So without further ado, I'm pleased to present you all with Bookmark my Heart, a fic where Bradley Bradshaw is an audiobook narrator and the reader, nicknamed Paper, runs right into him! All my thanks to @horseshoegirl and @desert-fern for beta-reading this fic and catching all of the places where I've missed commas as well as updating my phrasing!

My Masterlist

AO3: Cross-posted Here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted Here!

You’re not the audiobook type. Something about having someone read the pages, providing inflections and changes of tone to the otherwise inflectionless words tends to kill your imagination. So you much prefer reading over listening to the books you’re in the mood to peruse. It would just be your luck that an audiobook got you into this predicament. His eyes are piercing as you fumble with your phone to mute the volume, his voice blaring from the device. But maybe you should back up a little bit.

It all started, like it usually did for you, with a book. Unlike normally though, you aren’t talking about Keats, Byron, Shelley, or Austen. This time, the book that was your downfall was something you’d usually classify as chick-lit. Not that chick-lit is a bad thing. There are quite a few romance novels which are beautifully written and that you enjoy reading and re-reading. It’s just not normal that a romance novel, something smutty and provocative, would end up being talked about on podcasts and the news. That’s not considering how all of your female colleagues seem to be talking about the very same book. But that’s the other interesting thing. They’re not even discussing the book’s contents. More like they’re discussing the narrator’s voice in the audiobook edition - how deep and smooth and raspy it is.

It hadn’t even been a full day before the curiosity got the better of you and you purchased the book from Kindle Unlimited. It took you the better part of two weeks before you actually screwed up the courage to listen to it though. Maybe you shouldn’t have picked a Saturday morning when you were running errands to listen to the book. In your defense, there was no better time to listen to the book other than a day when you’d be spending quite a long time in the car with nothing else to do. You’d definitely miscalculated. Dear lord, this man’s voice?! It’s deep and raspy, something smooth and dark in how he voices the syllables. It’s the kind of voice you’ve once heard referred to as panty-wetting - an epithet you’ve never understood until now.

The book has you squirming as you walk through the grocery store. There’s sweat dripping down your spine as he talks about something involving fighter jets and the men (and women - you always feel like you have to correct) who fly them. You’d never have thought that flaps and ailerons could ever be that alluring. You have to take a minute as you leave the grocery store, sitting in your car in silence practically heaving just at the way the word “Doll” had dripped off of his lips. Maybe you can buy into the hype a little bit. It’s not often that you find a romance book in the male perspective after all. As far as finding the pilots sexy goes, though, what can you say? You’ve seen Top Gun - both movies - those boys in their dress whites are awfully sexy.

You send a little prayer of thanks to Rooster Bradshaw, whoever he is, for narrating this book. Just his voice has already made your boring Saturday running errands a thousand times better. You don't even mind that you're melting in the San Diego heat without the air conditioning on as you collect yourself. At least there is only one thing you have left to do today. As a reward for finishing up your errands, including odious activities like going to the bank and post office and grocery shopping, you'd vowed to treat yourself with a romp through your favorite bookstore.

Like you mentioned earlier, it all started with a book. What can you say? You're nothing if not predictable. The Breezy Bean is your favorite coffee shop and bookstore. It's a small shop nestled right in the midst of cobblestone streets and overshadowed by apartment buildings on either side. It's always a zoo trying to get parking, but you can't regret the competition for parking when the books are as good as they are and the coffee is even better.

Lara's not at the counter, but her business partner and best friend, Emily is, and you wave at her absentmindedly as you tangle the cord of your headphones around your index finger. The entire shop smells like coffee beans, paper and ink. You could spend forever here, and you're sure you have, at the very least, spent the entire day in the shop before. The shelves tower over your head, creaking under the weight of everything they hold. You're not a woman on a mission today, content to just meander until a cover catches your fancy. The eyes eat first, after all, isn't that what they say? If only you knew how true that statement would be.

The whole time you're listening to the book, tasting the words on your tongue seconds after Rooster says them, teasing the syllables out like you're trying to snatch them from his lips. Is it any wonder that after about four hours of listening to his voice, you're starting to imagine what the main character of the book looks like based on how Rooster sounds? You're only human, after all. It's quiet and dim in the back of the store, the shelves lit only by the small lights shining from the wall sconces. This is your favorite section of the store. There's a squashy green armchair here with a small table, and this is where you usually sit and wile away the hours.

It's rare that anyone ever ventures into this corner of the store. So it's a surprise when you see a man standing right in front of your favorite chair. He's tall and ridiculously handsome, wearing an eye-wateringly bright Hawaiian shirt and slim-fitting jeans. Like everyone in California, he's got Ray-Bans flung into the neckline of his tank top. The truly unique part of his look is the mustache he's carefully cultivated on his upper lip. He’s holding a book in long-fingered hands, lips pursed as he scans the pages, leaning gently against one of the shelves.

You try your best to squeeze past him in the narrow aisle, wondering if Em and Lara have squeezed more shelves back here or if you've just gained weight when it happens — your headphone cord snags on the buttons on his open shirt. You try to untangle it, unsuccessfully, but then your phone falls out of your pocket and rips your headphones right out of the jack.

You were just getting to a good part, something filled with innuendo but not quite at the sex. That's your only silver lining. Because when your phone nosedives to the, thankfully, carpeted floor sans your headphones, the audio keeps playing way too loudly for the hushed environment. To add insult to injury, your phone is closer to him than it is to you, and well, you've embarrassed yourself enough. The last thing you need is to get eye-level with a stranger's dick while your phone is narrating smut in a bookstore.

“Good book?” There's a smile on his face, and you nod timidly as he hands you back your phone. You pause the app and turn the volume all the way down before his words, or well, you should say, the sound of his voice sinks in.

If you weren’t mortified before, you're even more so now. Obviously, your brain does not compute, so your brain-to-mouth filter isn't working as you blurt out, “You're Rooster Bradshaw.”

It doesn’t surprise you at all when he starts laughing - a full body, belly laugh which fills the stacks with the mellifluous sound. If you had any doubts before that you'd run into the Rooster Bradshaw at your favorite coffee shop before (which you didn’t - see your intimate knowledge of his voice from earlier), you wouldn’t have any now. His character had actually laughed not fifteen minutes ago in the book. Well, now what are you supposed to do? You feel hot, embarrassment crawling its way up your throat as you shift your weight back and forth. Rooster's smiling at you as he stands back, lounging against the shelf like he's waiting for you to get your shit together. You'd hate to break it to him, but you don't think that's possible.

“I'm sorry.” You try your best to hide your face because he does not need to see what your facial expressions are doing.

“What do you have to be sorry for?” You shrug a shoulder as you busy yourself by turning around and trying to force yourself to read the titles. “It's not every day I run into pretty girls in my favorite bookstore, listening to me narrate a book about US Naval Aviators.”

Flirting shouldn’t be the thing which puts you at ease in this situation. There really must be something wrong with you. You’ve never done anything like this before. What happened to the girl who would have run away the minute the phone fell? She might not be facing down the sexiest man she’s ever seen, but at least that version of her isn’t at risk of heart palpitations.

“I hate to break it to you, Rooster, but a lot of pretty women are listening to you right now. This book has made its way onto podcasts and PBS. The author herself has been interviewed gushing about your professionalism and how you say the word “aileron.” Despite your mortification, you find yourself mirroring his relaxed position against the shelves. “Though I do have to correct a part of your statement there. What about yoga pants, glasses, and a messy bun makes me pretty? Because I’d call myself a mess.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go so far as to say you’re a mess, pretty girl.” Rooster grins as he tugs the shoulder of your cami up from where it is sliding down your arm. “Don’t you know exactly how devastating you look in those yoga pants?”

You’re left dumbstruck, reeling as he leans even closer to you. All of a sudden, you’re inundated with the scent of his cologne as he crowds into your space, and you’re forced to tip your head up to keep eye contact. Of course, the motion makes your glasses tip on your face, and you can’t lift a hand up to resettle them on your face without brushing up against every inch of the man, nearly squishing you into the shelf. There’s a scant few centimeters between you as you try to string words together.

“What makes you think I don’t know how good these pants make my ass look?” You smirk just a little, screwing up all of your courage to peer up at him. “But really, this outfit is comfortable.”

“Comfortable is not how you’re making me feel, honey.” There’s a heat in his gaze as his voice rasps out the words. “But maybe we can both get a little more comfortable and have a cup of coffee together?”

Only two people will ever know if your hand strays right over the seam at the front of his jeans as you walk away. “I’d love to, but maybe you need to take a few minutes in seclusion, Mr. Chicken.”

You feel giddy as you walk away because things like this don’t just happen to girls like you. You don’t flirt with men you've just met. And you definitely do not brush over the dicks of men you've just met! The counter is nearly empty as you walk up, and you know Em has clocked onto the fact that your hands are surprisingly empty of books.

“Hiya, Paper!” You roll your eyes only a little. Buy a stack of paperbacks once a week from a bookstore for months, and this is exactly what you’ll be nicknamed. “No books today?”

“Hey, Em. Can I get a latte, please? And whatever the gentleman in the Hawaiian shirt orders is on me.” You grin at the sight of her eyebrows ticking up until they’re nearly in her hair.

“What has our sweet little Paper been doing today, huh?” You shrug just a little, grinning as she hands you your drink. “I’ve been reading, Em!”

“Of course you have!” You’re laughing as you make your way to a table for two in the corner.

You’re smiling outright when Rooster swaggers out of the shelves a few minutes later, and Em clocks the Hawaiian shirt on his broad frame. She’s half drooling when he orders an Americano. As she turns to make his drink, you get the messages in short order.

What the fuck, Paper!

This is the man you’re buying a coffee for?

Damn, girl! I’m going to need all of the details. STAT!

You put the device away only when the chair opposite yours slides out, and Rooster settles in. You'd promised a full detailing of the encounter to Em, and you wouldn't be surprised if Lara interrogates you the next time you see her as well.

“So, obviously, you come here often, then.” He’s smirking as he sips on his coffee.

“Yup!” You’re just as chipper as you blow over the surface of your own mug.

“You come here often enough that one of the owners just threatened me with the loss of my…” He pauses like he’s not sure if he should laugh or cry as he says the words, “...crown jewels…” and grimaces before continuing, “...if I hurt you.”

“She also called you Paper. Why’s that, Honey?”

You lean forward, feeling just a little more confident as he mirrors your position. “Tit for tat, Bradshaw, if that even is your last name. You tell me something about yourself, I tell you something about myself.”

“Deal?” You stretch your hand out and gasp when he takes it and sets it down to the side of the mugs.

“Deal.”

“I’ll start.” Your faces are inches apart from each other. He's whispering, and you have to lean forward even further so you don't miss a single word. “My name’s Bradley Bradshaw. I didn’t want to use my real name while narrating those books.”

“And Rooster was what you decided on?” His chuckle and yours rise into the air in perfect harmony.

“It was a nickname I got in college. I was always the only guy in the dorm up before 9 A.M.”

You take turns sharing your life stories and quite a few secrets until your coffees are long gone. You find yourself telling him all about how you got your nickname and how you’ve been feeling stuck for the longest time. With Bradley, it doesn’t feel like another boring first date. If it weren’t for the faint hiss of the espresso machine and the clank of mugs and cutlery you wouldn't think there was another person in the room but the two of you. There are butterflies in your stomach, and your entire body shudders when he hooks his ankle around yours and tugs you closer. That point of contact has your blood turning into molten lava in your veins as his hand trails gentle patterns across your upturned palm.

“Hey, Paper?” It takes an inhuman effort to drag your eyes away from the magic Bradley Bradshaw is committing just with your hands in his own.

“Hey, Em.” As you say her name, you realize how dark it is. “The store’s closing, isn’t it?”

“Yup. It actually closed an hour ago. You looked so cute together that I called Lara, and we made an executive decision to let the two of you keep talking for just a bit longer.”

Your face feels extra hot because Em’s looking at you like she’s liable to start laughing at any moment. You don’t want to know what your hair looks like now, not after hours of running your fingers through it. It’s probably even more of a mess than it was when you literally ran into Bradley hours ago. A great first impression, right?

“Let me settle up then, Em.” If your voice is hushed and a little more subdued, it’s because reality and panic are settling in.

“No, sweetheart.” Bradley’s voice is even firmer as he stands up and places a hand on your arm. “Today is on me, I insist.”

You know exactly when Em puts it together, because her eyes widen to a comical degree. She was the biggest reason why you bought the book in the first place. “You’re Rooster Bradshaw!”

For the second time today, you find yourself laughing along with Bradley, though the sounds of his laughter doesn’t put you at ease in quite the same way as it did earlier. Em’s laughing too, and she looks gorgeous in the golden light. At least she’s put together in a way you’re so obviously not. Maybe you should have taken your mother’s well-meant advice when you were younger - dress to impress, for you never know who you’re going to meet. But you haven’t taken that advice, choosing to dress simply and comfortably. It works when you can’t wear any makeup when you work in a laboratory and when all of your nice clothes would be at risk of chemical spills at worst and covered by a lab coat at best. So you walk through life in a swirl of well-worn jeans, tee-shirts, yoga pants, tank tops, camisoles, sneakers and sandals. There are a few dressier items in your closet, but they’re so far in the back that you haven’t worn them in probably a year and a half. Em’s cute outfit and wavy, non-greasy hair probably feel like a breath of fresh air to him. The same goes for the timber of her voice and how she sounds so elegant.

If you didn't know any better (because you know Em, you do), you'd think that the words the two of them are sharing by the counter now are flirtier than settling up a bill. It doesn’t help the green, envious monster sitting on your shoulder, though. Nor does it help when you run to the restroom and take a look at yourself in the mirror. You look worse than you thought you did. Your face is wan and pale, the bags under your eyes have bags, and your hair is so greasy that it lays limp when you release it from your bun. Your lips are chapped, and fuck, how did you manage to drip coffee onto yourself?! You only drank one cup! What's left to show you that you've made a huge fool of yourself?

Your hands shake as you splash water on your face and put your hair back in its sad bun again. Just a little longer and you'll be home, wallowing in peace at yet another failed potential relationship. At least the water has brought a blush to your cheeks and cleaned the worst of the smudges off your glasses. Bradley probably has Em's phone number by now, right? It's probably best not to get your hopes up too high, else you find yourself falling from a prodigious height.

Instead, you're pleasantly surprised to see him still in the shop.

“Hey!” His face lights up when he sees you, and you're sure your earlier pep-talk about managing your expectations hasn’t worked at all. This is going to hurt. “So, I know talking to a stranger for hours at a coffee shop probably isn't the best first date. So would you maybe want to go on a real one sometime soon?”

“Y-you're serious?” He smiles and hands you his phone, unlocked.

“Put your number in there, Paper.” Your mind's not working at all as you type the ten digits in.

“Why me?”

His smile is warm and fond as he takes the phone back, types something and hits send. Your notification tone goes off soon after.

“It's not every day I run into a pretty girl listening to me reading a romance novel who doesn't fawn all over me once they realize who I am. It's been nice talking to you. I feel like you're the first person in a long time to see Bradley, not Rooster.”

He holds the door open for you, a hand finding its way to the small of your back as he walks you out to your car. He even opens the door for you, a chivalrous action which has your heart flip-flopping in your chest. “Baby doll?”

“Yeah?” He takes advantage of the height difference between you to tip your face up as he feathers a kiss across the apple of your cheek.

“It helps that your ass looks damn good in those yoga pants!”

You're laughing despite yourself as you drive away. Maybe audiobooks aren't as bad as you think? Or, well, at least their narrators aren't.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

Taglist:

@desert-fern @horseshoegirl @dakotakazansky @sarahsmi13s @teacupsandtopgun @footprintsinthesxnd @roosterforme @beyondthesefourwalls @mak-32 @thedroneranger @chaoticassidy @shanimallina87 @kmc1989

#star writes #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #top gun imagine #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bookmark my heart

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loveharlow · 8 months

Text

MILE MARKER

PAIRING‧₊˚ Racer!JJ x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚ [3.5K] During a race against Rafe, JJ's the victim of poor sportsmanship, leaving his girlfriend and the crew to not only patch him up but defend his honor as well

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of injuries, foul play, mentions of blood, self-endangerment, degrading names, mild violence, mentions of abuse

A/N‧₊˚ I am super shocked that I have not seen this AU anywhere, like if JJ had any alternative personality, I feel like a racer is my first thought and this just became my favorite version of him.

˗ˏˋ jj masterlist ˎˊ˗

UNRULY TEENAGE POGUES FROM EVERY CORNER OF THE CUT were tucked onto a vacant street as two daring boys, who held a grudge against one another since seemingly the beginning of time, geared up to race against the other.

Every weekend, kids on The Cut gathered on any unoccupied back street, preferably off of Shoupe's radar, to watch the unorthodox relay— where two bike-obsessed, thrill-seeking teenagers went head to head. For being an unofficial Pogue event, it was fairly well organized.

There were mechanics who made sure the bike were good to go, flag girls who strut their stuff in checkered outfits and signaled for them to go, and people like you who advised your racer of their route, their speed, and whatever else to make sure they got to the finish line first.

So, while the crowd cheered, you were busying yourself with securing JJ’s helmet as he strapped on his gloves. You pushed his head up after he looked down to fiddle with the velcro strap for the fifth time.

“Someone’s a little rough tonight. You alright, mama?” He questioned, the only readable part of his expression being his eyes that peeked through the small part of the hard headgear. You offered no response, only continuing to loop the straps through the adjustments before he grabbed your wrists gently, lowering them in front of his chest.

“Talk to me.” His voice was slightly muffled and his concern gleamed through his eyes.

“It’s just…” You started apprehensively, looking to your left where Rafe Cameron and some kook chick stood in a similar stance, her adjusting his helmet before tapping him on the head. “If you don’t dust his ass, we won’t hear the end of it. But I don’t want to put that kind of pressure on you...”

JJ bent his knees slightly, bringing his face closer to yours. “Hey, there’s no pressure. I’ve been doing this way longer than him and you know how that asshole gets; too blinded by his own rage to do anything right.” He assured you, speaking hearteningly.

“The thing is, I may have already come up with a...system, of sorts…” You started, avoiding JJ’s eyes as they fell into confusion. “C’mere.” You mumbled, slipping your wrists out of his grip to grab one of his, leading him to your setup off to the side of the main road where the bikes waited to be driven— two portable laptops, a keyboard, and your headset that connected to the mic inside of his helmet lay on the small table. You released his wrist in exchange for pointing at the dimly lit laptop screens, a path outlined in red on the screen.

“What’s this?” He asked, bending down next to you to view the monitor.

“I made a slight alteration in your route.” You started. “You already know how to read this; the red line is your entire path, the yellow dots are your mile markers, the flag is the finish line, yada yada.” You continued, trailing your finger up the display and stopping on the fifth yellow dot. “Right here is where I made a change. Originally, I was going to have you follow along to the end of the road and make your right turn to the finish line as sharp as possible to cut down on the speed lost during the turn…”

“Mhm.”

“But this is a street race, so we can bend the rules. Considering, y'know, there aren't any.” You tapped the panel with your finger twice for emphasis. “Once you hit the five mile marker, I made it so that you’ll veer off the main road. You’ll end up on another street, much more narrow and risky but you can do it and it cuts down the distance between you and the finish line by an entire mile, leaving Rafe a good distance behind you.”

“And how will I know when to make the turn?”

You looked up at him in question. “The same way you always do — I’ll tell you. Just keep your mic on and make sure that you can hear me.”

“And you’re sure this’ll work?” He was looking down at you now, standing to his full height.

“No.” You were honest, this was JJ’s well-being, and his reputation, on the line. Lying wasn’t in his best interest. “But I’ve gone over it in my head so many times, you wouldn’t believe it. This is our best shot.”

He let out a deep breath, shaking his shoulders out and bouncing slightly on his feet.

“If you don’t think this'll go smoothly, we can stick to the original route-”

“No, no, It’s good. I’m good.” Once he was steady and unmoving, you looked him in the eyes — any sign of uncertainty and you were going back to the original plan. But as you scanned his eyes, you couldn’t find one. So without any other protests, you nodded and edged closer to him, kissing the side of his helmet.

“Ok then.” You turned your head towards your station once more, picking up your headset and adjusting it to your head, leveling the small microphone with your lips. “You better get out there.” You encouraged, head tilting in the direction of his waiting bike, hearing your own voice in your ears due to the close proximity.

“You got me?” He asked.

“Always.” You smiled, turning to make sure everything with your display was up to speed. JJ took the opportunity to grab a small handful of your ass considering you were bent over the table slightly. “Get away from here.” You chuckled, swatting his gloved hand away.

“Can’t help myself.” He joked, retreating towards his motorcycle with his hands up in mock surrender.

As you hit keys and adjusted settings, you could hear the crowd get louder as the boys mounted their bikes. You took your eyes off the monitors in front of you to see the flag girl strutting between the two with the checkered banner held high in the air, crossing one leg over the other as she walked to the front, the crowd dying down as she turned to face the two boys.

It was a small pause, a brief second, then she was bringing the flag down like a hammer on a nail and all that was heard was cheers and engines popping, tires creating clouds of smoke in the empty space behind the vehicles as the bikes practically launched themselves off the concrete.

You wasted no time in whipping your view back to the monitors, the icon that resembled JJ’s bike position moving fast along the path.

“Hey, J, can you hear me?”

“Crystal clear, baby.”

You smiled, letting your elbows rest on the wooden surface, eyes never leaving the bright interface, watching as JJ practically zipped past the first mile marker.

“You’re doing good, alright? Keep going at this pace for now, but once you start to come up on your turn, you’ll need enough time to slow down. It’s a narrow path, JJ. I need you to focus.”

“I hear you.”

“Good.” You continued watching as the crowd watched the race on a bigger monitor that was set up within their view, watching the live feed from small cameras attached to both of their bikes streaming side-by-side. It wasn’t long before JJ passed the second marker, then the third, coming up on the fourth.

“Okay, this is where you need to decrease your speed. Not too much, about two-thirds of what you’re going now.”

“If I do that, I’ll fall behind.”

“No, you won't.”

“Baby, I'm telling you. He’ll pass me and be miles ahead before I even reach the mile marker.” His tracker was showing that he hadn’t dropped his speed at all and he needed to if this was going to work.

“Listen to me. The path is shorter and allows you to travel less distance, you'll still be ahead. Slow down, now.”

You could hear him sigh into the mic. “We're doing this your way.” He said almost skeptically, like he didn’t believe this was his way to the finish line. Your eyes zeroed in on the computer screen, watching him roll through the forth mile marker at a more compatible speed.

“Okay, edge towards the right side of the road to get further out of Rafe’s peripheral. If he sees you, he might follow.”

You watched him veer off down the path with no issue. A bright smile crept onto your features as you silently cheered to yourself. “Yes! Okay, we can do this. Just keep going, J. You’re not far from the end.”

“The hell?” JJ’s voice boomed on the other side of the line. His tracker icon swerving side to side on the screen. “Shit! He’s tailing me!”

“What?” You could feel the way your face immediately fell.

“He reversed his fucking bike to follow me... Dammit!” His frustration was as clear as day, the sound of engines revving growing louder in the mic. The crowd's demeanor changed as well, causing your vision to reluctantly drift over to the large TV monitor, watching as Rafe’s side of the screen grew closer and closer to the back of JJ’s bike.

“JJ, speed up!”

“I’m going as fast as I can! Is there a way off this damn road?!”

“No, there isn’t! When I- fuck!”

You were frantic, hands above your head as you paced around in your space. Eyes never leaving the screen as the crowd grew more and more anxious.

You were trying to think. If this were any other person, your assumptions that they would run your boyfriend into a ditch would be low. But this was Rafe Cameron. A man with something severely wrong with him. And you could hear your heartbeat racing, thump after thump, as you watched Rafe’s bike grow close enough to collide with JJ’s back tire, sending him flying off of the bike into the middle of the street. The screen showing JJ’s bike view as it slid across the concrete before glitching out.

The crowd grew half-angry with Rafe’s actions and half-shocked, loud protests breaking out as arms flew in the air. Your eyes burned with tears and your voice croaked as you practically hollered into the speaker unit. “JJ?! I swear to God, can you hear me?!”

You snatched the headset off your head before making a b-line for your own bike that you’d rode here, wasting no time in knocking the kickstand and taking off. The wind blasted the tears out of your eyes as you followed the path you’d mapped out yourself, coming up on the road where you could see your boyfriend curled up into an unmoving ball.

Your bike screeched as it came to a halt while you hastily hopped off with not a care in the world as it clambered to the ground. You almost tripped over your own feet as you ran towards JJ, skinning your knees as you fell to your knees next to him before you stopped running practically sliding before you flipped him over onto his back.

“C’mon…” You mumbled to yourself as you worked on getting the helmet off of his head, throwing it to the side without caution as his face was exposed to you — blood leaking from his nose and trickling from his now split lip accompanied by a large bruise on his cheek. He was coughing and groaning and you were too focused on scanning him for more injuries that you didn’t hear the distinct rumble of John B’s van pulling up, five distressed friends who had been watching from the sidelines piling out of the vehicle and surrounding the both of you.

“Oh my-”

“Is he okay?!”

“Does he look okay?!” You yelled, lifting his shirt to take a look at his torso — purple-ish splotches blooming around his ribcage, red and irritated skin abrasions beginning to bead with blood. You cursed under your breath, slipping your arms underneath him in an attempt to lift him on your own. “We need to get him to the garage.” You spoke as your friends crowded to help you carry his weight as you all hoisted him into the van.

“Why not a hospital?” Cleo quizzed incredulously.

“Too many questions," John B offered.

"And they’ll call his father. We can handle it.” You spoke absentmindedly, carefully laying JJ down on the floor of the Twinkie as you, Kie, Pope, and Cleo piled into the back while John B and Sarah rounded the front. The automobile jumped as John B turned the key before the engine roared and it was taking off down the road.

“I think we should get him to a doctor.” Kie spoke up in a troubled manner.

“No! Okay, we all know they’ll call his dad and he’ll walk out of there with more bruises than he went in with.” You reprimanded. JJ’s health was the first thing on your mind and though they may not understand, taking him to a hospital would make things worse. Between racing illegally, his abusive father, and his already not-so-clean record? Walking into a building full of mandated reporters was not an option.

The van fell silent, all eyes on JJ's heaving figure or looking out the window watching street lights go by. Deep down you all knew he’d be fine but until you knew for sure, the space hung low with tension from worry and disagreement on how to handle the situation.

“You’re bleeding…” Pope pointed out, motioning to the blood leaking slowly from your knees. It must’ve happened when you ran over to help JJ.

“Don’t worry about me.” You eased the boy’s concern. It wasn’t long before the van was pulling into the garage, the fluorescent white light illuminating the space in the dead of night. The vehicle hadn’t even come to a full stop before the side door was flung open as you, with the help of the others, hauled JJ’s limp frame to the sofa in the corner of the workspace. Once he was situated, you rushed over to the opposite corner of the room, sifting through boxes of tools and manuals until you found the long buried first aid kit and medical supplies.

JJ had sustained a decent amount of injuries in the duration of his hobby of his but it never exceeded much more than a few shallow cuts here and there. Kneeling next to the worn down sofa, you doused a cotton ball with alcohol and dabbed it onto the injured parts of his face. Of course, you were met with the loudest groan he’d made since you all plucked him from the road.

“I’m sorry.” You mumble apologetically, turning your head slightly when you feel a warm hand on your shoulder.

“You’re shakin’.” Cleo observed. Looking down at your hands, she was right. From your wrists to the tips of your fingers, you were trembling. “Go pull yourself together, girl. I’ll patch him up.”

You gave her the best appreciative smile you could muster, truly grateful for her kindness and keen eye. Handing her the cotton ball, you placed your hands on your stinging knees to help yourself up, walking a just few feet away. You’d clean yourself up later. You just needed a moment to collect yourself.

You couldn’t help but feel some guilt. There was a part of you that was mentally scolding yourself like a parent for suggesting the route change in the first place. What possessed you to put JJ’s safety on the line like that? But then there was that more lenient part of you that kept reminding yourself that Rafe Cameron was not one to play fair and that there was a chance that he would’ve pulled something like this either way.

You were facing away from the group, one hand on your hip as the other ran down your face until it settled on covering just your mouth as you finally allowed the hot tears that took home in your waterline to fall. A small, almost inaudible sob left your lips before you shook your head; sniffing up your tears, rubbing the wetness from your eyes, and telling yourself to stop being ridiculous.

As your mind cleared, you could hear engines in the distance, your brows pinching in puzzlement. You, along with Pope, Kiara, John B, and Sarah, edged towards the opening of the garage as Rafe's bike pulled up with Topper’s truck trailing close behind. Cleo was still kneeling and attending to JJ’s wounds.

Rafe stationed his bike and tore his helmet off as he dismounted, Topper and Kelce hopping out of the truck behind him. Rafe’s lips curled into a smirk, parting to say something but he never got the chance before you were closing the space between you two, clocking him in the jaw.

You stumbled forward a little as you did so, watching him recover from the hit as he took the opportunity to grab you by the shoulders and spin you around and push you down, practically pinning you to the solid ground. You could hear his friends and yours screaming as you both brawled on the concrete.

Rafe’s first raised and came down, just missing your face as it collided with the street, causing him to let out a mangled cry. Distracted by his own pain, you managed to push him off of his straddling position above you as he fell on his ass, you taking the opportunity to kick him in the chest, knocking him completely on his back. You scrambled to your knees, little rocks getting in the cuts on them and strand of hair obstructing your vision as you frantically hit his chest and face. Not landing every hit but enough of them.

He spoke through the blood in his mouth from your initial hit, calling you all sorts of names ranging from ‘lowlife’ to ‘bitch’. He eventually managed to grab a hold of your wrists that were coming down on him in a frenzy. He pulled you up by them, slamming you against Topper's truck that was still running, your head spinning for a few moments from the collision.

“Get off of her, you psycho!” Kiara's voice rang out.

You found enough strength in your daze to snatch your arms out of his grip, pushing his shoulders back cruelly just in time as John B and Sarah stepped in between the both of you. Rafe wiping blood from his lip as John B pushed him further back while Sarah’s hands were on your shoulders asking you questions you could barely hear through the ringing in your ears.

Your eyes wandered, seeing a frazzled Kie and an enraged Pope in front of Topper and Kelce who were trying to get past them to get to Rafe, Cleo seemingly safe-guarding JJ’s resting figure as she was crouched beside him with a switchblade clutched in her hand.

Once the humming in your eardrums ceased, you could hear John B telling off Rafe and his goons. “She's a girl, dipshit! You don't touch her!”

“She hit me!” Rafe tried to defend.

Then Sarah’s blonde hair was whipping in front of you, now facing her crazed brother. “Because you ran her boyfriend off the road, Rafe!” She screamed. “Just…go! Okay, leave! Go home.”

Rafe licked his lips, nodding his head and looking side to side before shrugging his shoulders. He rubbed his jaw, taking wide strides towards his bike as he snatched his helmet that had fallen out of his hand in the scuffle from off of the ground. He stopped less than a foot in front you, his face distressed and eyes mad.

He didn’t say anything, just glared at you before chuckling under his breath and throwing himself over his bike. Topper and Kelce following his lead and clambering back into the truck before both vehicles reversed and sped back in the direction they came.

"Jesus..." John B breathed out, running his fingers through his hair.

You took a deep breath, running a hand over the top of your head.

“Guys,” Cleo called out. “I think he’s wakin’ up.” She waved you all over.

You all rushed over, crowding around the injured blonde who was shifting as his eyes squinted, groaning as he clenched his torso.

“What the fuck…”

A small chorus of laughter was shared amongst the group, looking at each other in relief.

“My ass hurts.” JJ pouted, Cleo shaking her head and rising from her crouched position beside him, patting him on the shoulder.

“Don’t move too much, blondie. You need to heal.” She offered before leaving the space beside JJ open, motioning for you to take it. John B and Pope walked by him as well, giving him a pat on the shoulder, mumbling similar variations of ‘Glad you’re okay, man.’. Sarah offering a simple smile while Kie rolled her eyes telling him he was reckless.

“She’s totally glad I’m alive.” JJ tried to joke.

You brushed the sweaty strands of hair from his forehead. “We all are.” Your voice was solemn. “This was my fault. I should’ve stuck to the initial plan.”

“Don’t start that.” He insisted. “I agreed to it and it wasn’t our fault, regardless.” His voice was strained and raspy. “He couldn’t stand to lose. That’s all. Don’t sweat it, ‘kay?”

Reluctantly, you nodded, laying your head on his shoulder as one of his arms went around yours.

You both laid in comfortable silence for a few moments until he spoke again.

“I know I was out of it but… did you fight Rafe?”

You smacked your teeth and groaned while he chuckled. “I was upset. I got him in the jaw one good time, though.”

He squeezed you closer to him as much as his body would allow for a quick moment, planting a small kiss on the top of your head. “That’s my girl.” He praised. “I’m still gonna kick his ass for putting his hands on you, though.”

“I expected nothing less.”

“Glad you know.”

General taglist; @livlaughquinn

JJ Maybank Taglist; @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot @maybankslover

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

©loveharlow

#jj maybank x you #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank #obx jj #jj maybank x reader #obx jj x reader #obx netflix #obx #jj mayback imagine #jj mayback x reader #rudy pankow x reader #rudy outer banks #rudy pankow

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menofchaos · 2 months

Text

Coco

Note: Third time I'm trying to send this out! I missed sleep to write this, which usually means it'll end up being one of my favorites like the Vegas story. I do have more of this written, so please let me know if anyone would be interested! This is the first installment of Coco x museum! reader. Picture credit goes to @richardcabralofficial on ig & divider credit goes to @spideyspeaches. Enjoy!

Coco lit a cigarette as he walked down the sunny streets of downtown San Diego, Angel and Gilly planning their evening of bar hopping. They decided to head down to the beach for a long weekend, a getaway from the pressures of Santo Padre.

“Damn, that’s a big ass building.”

“Ain’t this the museum you wanted to go to?” Angel asked.

EZ nodded, “Yeah at some point. You guys don’t have to come in.”

The four of them turned down the street toward the entrance and Gilly laughed, “Oh I’m definitely going.”

Angel frowned, “You wanna go to a museum? You good, homie?”

“If all the chicks in the museum look like that? Fuck yeah, I do,” he scoffed and nodded over at the museum steps.

They all looked up to see two men in suits talking to a woman, her long curly hair flowing gently in the wind as she laughed. Coco’s eyes widened when he saw ink covering her throat, bright acrylics on her tattooed hands. His eyes followed her curves, covered up by her professional attire. He licked his lips when he heard Angel mumble, “Damn.”

EZ shook his head, “I didn’t mean we had to go now.”

“What better time than the present, boy scout?” Gilly smirked, “You guys in?”

Angel looked over at Coco, who shrugged, “Why not?”

“Alright,” Gilly clapped, “Think she dresses like that all the time?”

“She’s way out of your league,” Angel snorted, shaking his head as they crossed the street.

“You think you have a better chance?” Gilly arched an eyebrow.

Coco laughed, “You two gonna bet again? Since it went so well last time.”

Both men glared at him before going back to arguing over who would ask her out. The men in suits walked away and the woman turned to see the four of them heading up the stairs.

“Welcome,” she smiled and opened the door, “Ticket counter is to your left, let me know if you have any questions about the exhibits.”

Gilly looked her over slowly, “Thanks mami. I do have a question. Are you the exhibit?”

She laughed politely, “No, I’m not.”

“Too bad, I can’t stop staring,” he winked, heading inside.

“All these artifacts and I can’t take my eyes off you,” Angel smirked and followed him in.

EZ shook his head, “I’m sorry about them, it’s their first day in public.”

Coco took off his sunglasses as she laughed, “It’s all good, I’ve heard worse,” she closed the door behind them, “Enjoy the museum,” she winked at Coco before a younger employee called her over.

Coco watched her walk off, hips swaying. Gilly and Angel were still quietly bickering over her. While they were distracted, he took a few steps toward where she stood with another woman wearing a regular museum uniform. The woman went into the exhibit and she turned to Coco.

“Can I help you?” she asked him.

“Just wanted to apologize again for my brothers,” he told her, “They’re harmless.”

She smiled, “That’s sweet, thank you. Like I said, I’ve had way worse pick up lines than that. I was a little bummed I didn’t hear one from you, though,” she admitted.

Coco’s eyes widened and he smiled, “Oh yeah?”

She nodded, “See if it was more original than your brothers,” she teased.

He laughed softly, “They didn’t exactly get creative, did they?”

“No but at least they didn’t say they’d nail me to the wall,” she shivered slightly in disgust, “That one grosses me out.”

He shook his head, “I wouldn’t have let them get away with that one.”

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Coco,” he held a hand out to her, “Yours?”

She introduced herself and shook his hand, “I guess you wouldn’t let them get away with that, would you, boogeyman?”

His eyes lit up, “You know that story?”

She smiled, “Of course,” she scanned the patches on his leather. Coco held his breath for a moment, waiting for her to dismiss him, “Santo Padre? What brings you to San Diego?”

“We wanted to get out of the desert for a few days,” he murmured, “Hang out at the beach.”

“That’s why I live here, so I can be on the beach whenever,” she smiled, “How long are you in town for?”

“Till Tuesday,” he bit his lip, willing his heart to slow down.

She nodded, holding his gaze for a moment, “So, you got a line?”

He shook his head, “No lines,” he licked his lips, “But I’d love to take you out later.”

She smiled, “I can’t tonight but I’ll take your number and call you tomorrow?” she pulled her phone out of her pocket.

Coco recited his number to her, smirking when he glanced over to see Gilly and Angel glaring at him. She nodded, “I’ll see you soon?” she took a few steps back, smiling.

“See you soon,” he smiled slowly, his eyes on hers.

She giggled and turned down a hallway, out of his sight. He rejoined the other guys.

“What just happened?” Angel asked, “You get her number?”

He shook his head, “Gave her mine. Thanks for making me look good,” he smirked as EZ handed him a ticket, “Thanks, bro.”

“Motherfucker,” Gilly swore, “You’re such a dick.”

After the museum, the four of them headed to dinner, then a bar on the beach. They stood around a pool table, EZ and Angel against Coco and Gilly.

“I still can’t believe you snaked her from me,” Gilly shook his head.

“You don’t have a claim on her, homie,” he smirked, taking a sip of beer.

“You come on too aggressive, bro,” Angel said.

EZ snorted, “You weren’t much better.”

Angel scoffed, “I wasn’t as bad as him!”

“All I did was give her my number,” Coco watched Gilly take his turn, “It’s not like I stole your girlfriend or some shit.”

Coco was in the middle of his turn when a loud cheer erupted behind him. He looked over his shoulder to see a high top all holding their drinks up, laughing.

“Wait, isn’t that her?”

Coco grinned when he saw her sitting at the high top, a pink margarita in her hand and a relaxed smile on her face. She caught his gaze and she smiled wider, waving at him. He held up a finger, turning back to finish his turn, “It is.”

He sunk two balls and missed the third, setting his cue down when he heard, “Lord have mercy. Look at that.”

All thought left his mind when he saw her heading toward him. She had forgone her professional attire, a longer asymmetrical skirt with a button up and blazer, for a tight black and white dress that hit mid thigh. Her long curled were tied up in a ponytail, two braids nestled among the strands. Her darker lipstick made him want to smear it.

“Hi,” she smiled.

“Hey,” he murmured, “You look beautiful.”

She giggled shyly, “Thank you. This is a coincidence.”

“Your plans for the night?” he asked, glancing at the table that was not so subtly spying on her.

She nodded, “College friends in town for the night. We’re going to the beach tomorrow before their flight leaves.”

Coco smirked, “We’re going to the beach too. The one down the road.”

“So are we,” she laughed, “Another coincidence.”

“Or fate,” he suggested, failing to keep himself from checking her out.

She felt butterflies under his gaze, “Could be. I gotta get back but how about this? If you find me at the beach tomorrow, you can take me out to dinner.”

His eyes lit up at the challenge. Between his military training and club antics, he knew he could meet it, “I’m down. See you tomorrow, ma.”

“See you tomorrow,” she kissed his cheek softly, walking back to her group. He couldn’t stop smirking the rest of the night.

Coco sat down on a lounge chair between Angel and Gilly, “Why the fuck do we stay in the desert when we could be here?” he asked as Angel passed him the blunt.

Angel laughed, “We should convince Alvarez to start a San Diego charter.”

“Coco just wants to be near his new girl,” Gilly opened a beer.

“You still bitching about that?” Coco arched an eyebrow, “How many chicks are out here, go pick up one up if you got that much game.”

“Oh now you got game?” Gilly asked, “With that crooked ass nose.”

Coco passed the blunt to EZ, retort on his tongue when his phone lit up with an unknown number. He opened it to find a picture of her smiling, sunglasses covering her eyes and her long hair tied up in a messy bun. He could only see from her shoulders up, a table with beer pong set up in the background. It was accompanied by a text.

I’m here! Ready for your mission?

He smirked, typing out, ‘Mission accepted’ before standing up, “Well you fuckers can keep playing with each other, I’m going to get a date.”

EZ grinned, “Good luck, bro.”

Coco fist bumped him, “Good luck with these two,” he joked and grabbed his phone and cigarettes, sliding his sunglasses on as he walked up to the top of the sand. He remembered the size of her group the night before and knew they wouldn’t be that hard to spot. He checked the picture again, his heart skipping a beat at her smile. Another text came in as he tried to study the background for clues.

No clues but I do have a drink waiting for you

He noticed rocks behind her and scanned the beach, grinning when he saw a cliff to his left. He walked down to the water, taking his time to smoke a cigarette as he made his way over. A large blue canopy with a long table under it was set up next to the cliff, coolers and bags scattered around towels and blankets set up on the ground. He swore under his breath when he spotted her in nothing but a black and green two piece, a drink in each hand. Tattoos covered both arms and curled around her long legs, a few on her back and sides. She was talking to two other women, one in a pink one piece and the other covered by an oversized white t shirt and men’s swimming trunks. Four guys stood at either end of the beer pong table in different colored bathing suits. He walked up, ignoring the looks the guys gave him as he tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around and grinned.

“Coco!” she leaned in to kiss his cheek, “That didn’t take nearly as long as I expected.”

He laughed, “I was a Marine, baby.”

“That’s not fair,” she pouted, “Here’s a beer if you want it. Let me introduce you to everyone,” she offered him the bottle.

“Sure, thank you,” he took it and followed her around the tent, shaking hands with everyone. They all went to college together, getting picked up and invited in by others in the friend group. They used to be a bigger group, she explained, but fights, moves and break ups splintered the group until it was the remaining seven of them. She hung back with him as the guys kept playing, one white boy, Dan or Dave or something, glancing at him often with a glare.

“Your friend in the green doesn’t like me that much,” he teased a few minutes later.

She looked over at the canopy and sighed, “He claims he’s protective, but he’s not like that about anyone else. He’s just one of those white knight guys.”

“White knight guys?” he frowned.

“Yeah, if I do something he thinks could hurt me, he acts concerned for my well being but he just has feelings for me and gets jealous,,” she explained, “He did the same thing in college when he found out I was dancing.”

He arched an eyebrow, “Dancing?”

She nodded, looking up at him, “I didn’t come from a good family or anything, so I had to pay my own way through college. I got some scholarships but it didn’t cover everything so I started stripping to help pay my bills and shit,” he watched her as she spoke, knowing this was a test of his reaction.

“That’s smart, you probably made bank,” he winked.

A smile lit up her face, satisfied in his response, “You know I did. No student loans for me.”

White Knight Dan/Dave called her over for her turn but she declined, telling him she’d play later. His disappointment was visible, tossing another glare Coco’s way as he went back to the game.

Coco smirked, “Damn, I’m making all kinds of enemies talking to you.”

She took a sip of her beer, “Who else?”

“My homie’s still mad,” he laughed.

“Tell him if he can find it in his heart to forgive you, I have a bunch of hot, single friends I can introduce him to,” she offered.

He laughed softly, “That might do it, thanks mami.”

#mayans imagine #coco cruz imagine #coco cruz #johnny coco cruz #coco x reader #mayans mc

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