Jayce got expelled from the Academy after the explosion. He is banished to Zaun where he stumbles into The Last Drop, and finds a big man with big hands and a soft spot for sad pretty boys
you had me at "fuck you" ☆ post hogwarts!draco x muggleborn male!reader - Chapter One
Life for Draco after Hogwarts was what he expected as soon as he took the Mark. His dreams of greatness and the wrecking ball he imagined the Malfoy name being for his future were discarded; they were simply too damaged to repair and were a "wrecking ball" in ways he did not like. Walls that he imagined himself breaking down to rebuild as his own were broken but strengthened to keep him out. Draco wished he could say it was unfair but he knew the outside world had done nothing wrong. It was all due to his own faults.
So he did what they had all wanted him to do, he killed himself. Draco Lucius Malfoy was dead, buried with his mother and father and left to decay in Malfoy Manor. His crimes were not forgotten and he watched from afar as they brutally battered what they perceived as his corpse. He had moved away from pureblood society, stole a drunkard's wand, cast Disillusionments over every recognizable part of himself, abandoned his family's inheritance, and went to live in Muggle London where none would recognize him. He barely recognized himself.
He lived in a small flat which he shared with Spencer, a Muggle man he had obliviated into thinking he was there all along. His once striking, pale blond hair was now a plain, dull brown. His cold, grey eyes turned to a light, honeyed brown. He had cast glamours over his scars with ease, grateful for the blank slate he appeared to be. He was Deacon, a young man who worked as a bartender in the smallest, smelliest pub a couple blocks down.
Draco liked life as Deacon. No one gave him a second glance out of fear or disgust but sometimes out of attraction. He was normal. He didn't worry about the Golden Trio, the responsibilities his parents has placed on his shoulders, Voldemort's daily torturings. He could just be. And that was something he had never experienced before. As time went on and the fear of being discovered faded, Draco spent longer and longer in his glamours and disillusionments having become obsessed with the euphoria he associated with Deacon.
He was on his way to work, walking and humming a tune he had heard Spencer playing on his drums earlier.
Everlong, was it?
He had discovered within days of living in Muggle London that their music was exciting and brilliant. He hadn't known how advanced Muggles happened to be until he was surrounded by them. The telly was one of the first things he became enraptured by.
He pushed through the pub doors, flashing a smile to his friend, Sally, who worked the shift before him.
"Sally."
"What's up, Deek!"
He winced, finding the name she had given him on his first day still irritating. He looked around at the surprisingly crowded bar and leaned on the counter to talk over the blasting music.
"Is there an event tonight I didn't know about?"
The girl shook her head before pointing at something over Draco's shoulder.
"I think it's a party for birthday boy over there!"
Draco turned his head curiously over his shoulder. His back immediately straightened and his eyes widened.
The birthday boy was gorgeous. He stood on top of a chair dancing sensually to the song playing over the speakers. His hips moved side to side and his hair framed his face beautifully as he moved to the beat. He sang along to the lyrics loudly with great feeling that if Draco had not heard the accompanying music, he would have thought the boy had wrote it.
"NO! I DON'T WANT NO SCRUB! A SCRUB IS A GUY THAT CAN'T GET NO LOVE FROM ME. HANGING OUT THE PASSENGER SIDE OF HIS BEST FRIEND'S RIDE. TRYIN TO HOLLA AT ME!"
Draco smiled, watching and enjoying the show he was putting on. He bit his lip as the boy, or man rather judging by the giant headband he wore on his head with the number 20, dipped low and his low-rise jeans revealed an emerald g-string with a bow. Draco looked away, swallowing, as he turned back to Sally, who was grinning at him.
Draco rolled his eyes at her childish behavior.
"He's single, I overheard his friends when they came to get a drink. Apparently, he's looking for a man to go home with tonight."
Draco looked back at the man, who had gotten off the chair and was now giggling with his friends.
"Good for him."
He cleared his throat.
"I'm gonna put my things away. Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone."
"Oh no! But, Deacon! How will I manage when you're my only brain!"
"Shut it, you witch."
"I'm not a witch! They aren't real!"
Draco smirked as he walked away.
☆
A/N: Hey guys! So this is my first time writing ANY HP fanfiction - I've read A LOT though, haha. Please be kind and if you like it, comment or like so I can release Chapter Two which will be from your/my character's perspective :) also NOT proof-read
guys. i did NOT know so many people liked this my heart is so full IM COMING BACK to write more and also probably harry potter/arcane if any of you are into those as well
summary. you’re a bartender on shift when one of your regulars intervenes a drunken harassment. suggestive mentions
“Another,” you hear, the word just about audible through the drunken voices around you.
“Last one,” you quip, eyes playfully narrowing at the regular –Logan– across the bar. “You’re gonna get me fired.”
“I won’t tell,” he shakes his head, sliding his glass across the oak with one hand, the other reaching into his pocket. “Get me a packet of those uh– those nuts there, too,” he gestures, nodding to the shelf behind you.
You turn to collect his bar snack, reaching high with arms extended way above your head. The tip-making-tank you often wear riding up your back as you reach, the slinky, black fabric revealing a slither of skin from behind.
The eyes of Logan remain fixed on you, gaze heavy as he watches the slight sway of you in his view. Though he couldn’t stare for long, a drunken asshole moving to stand beside him, beginning his start of spew of gross, derogatory comments.
“Hey baby,” the guy says, his speech slurred as he ogles at you from the back.
You turn to follow the voice, a fresh face leaning across the bar, his arms reaching across the slab of wood. You follow the scoff of Logan beside the stranger, his head shaking disapprovingly – hands balling into fists under his chin.
“I want a shot,” he says, a sleazy, cocky smile on his face.
“What can I get you?” you ask as you top up Logan’s glass, filling it with his usual choice.
“Can I get a blow job?” the stranger chuckles as he looks back at his friends, his demeanour arrogant.
You again follow the entertained scorn-like sigh, looking at Logan across from you. He wasn’t amused. He cocks his head, his lips forming a straight line after hearing the distasteful comment directed at you.
You wanted to hit the man, but you remained professional – pushing off his double entendre of a question.
“We don’t do those anymore,” you shake your head and hand the bag of nuts to Logan, reassuring his checking look with a nod.
“What about a back shot?” the guy laughs, his drunken footing lingering.
Logan drops his fists to the bar, all restraints vanishing with every passing comment. He was pissed, it was clear. The narrowing in his eyes telling you all you needed to know.
“What about—” is all the guy manages to utter before his head is pushed into the bar, Logan’s hand around the back of the man's neck – his force pushing the drunk's face further into the wood.
“What about an apology?” Logan murmurs.
And when he doesn’t get the response he wants, he slams the guy's face back into the wood – grip tight as he repeats his question. “What about an apology?” he reiterates, words chillingly calm as he leans to speak into the man’s ear.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” the stranger trembles, half-ass apologies rambling into the sticky bar. “I’m sorry.”
Logan peels the man off the counter, forcefully straightening his posture as he makes him look at you. “Not to me,” he ruffles the guy’s collar, shaking him as he directs his focus. “To her.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Is that good for you?” Logan asks, looking at you – eyes soft on you, hands firm on the man.
You wipe away a smile and nod.
“Good,” he shoves off the drunk, pushing at his back as he stumbles away. “Now, fuck off.”
The silence around the bar slowly refills with sounds of conversation, everyone redirecting their focus away from the scene.
“Thank you,” you nod at Logan, features genuine when you lock eyes with his.
He shrugs earnestly, brushing off the act as he reaches for his glass – acting as if nothing had happened.
You bend at the arm, resting your elbows on the bar as you lean over slightly, subtly getting closer to him on the other side. “I might have to give you that shot he was talking about.”
Which one do you prefer Mr. Lockley for the spice level? Mafia!Jake or DBF!Jake
Xoxo from another Jake & Steven lover
Oh this is a great question.
I think I prefer Mafia Jake personally. A little about me as a person...
I have a good relationship with my dad irl and his best friend so the idea of actually doing something like that to my dad hurts me a tad. So that being said, I don't really self-insert when I write dbf or even bfd (cause I care about my best friend too much as well lol). So I imagine the readers in those as "characters" versus inserting a blank slate or mentally inserting myself.
Mafia Jake on the other hand, I completely imagine myself being the one with him, sitting on his lap, being called sweetheart and every other pet name under the sun. The reader character in my head is me and I'm here for it all the way. Ugh and just the way I wrote him so soft and gentle still kills me. I don't normally stroke my own ego with art or writing but I'm doing it with Mafia Jake because I just loved him so much when I wrote him personally.
WARNINGS : NSFW, 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI, the links are literally p#rn, proceed at your own risk.
CHARACTERS : ghost, soap, price, könig, graves
part two here
simon 'ghost' riley
♥ he loooves manhandling you, grabbing you by the hips to slam you back on his cock seeing as you're in no position to move (not that he minds in the slightest), snarling down on you as his own eyes roll back "tell me. tell me how it feels lovie," "s so deep simon-fuckk"
♥ he loves when you go down on him, but he'd always hold back not wanting to hurt you. that was until you begged him to be rough with you-to use you like both of you wanted. "c'mon baby-fuck my face already," well. he's not going to say no to that
♥ simon won't stop for anything once he's pussy drunk, painting your pussy white over and over and over, until you're as desperate as him, begging him sweetly to fuck you harder, faster, to give you everything, and he's more than happy to oblige "one more yeah?Ah-fuckin' hell-Y'gonna giv'me one more? Gooood girl."
bonus ..... i mean.
john 'soap' mactavish
♥ you almost roll your eyes at soap's cocky chuckle, but you're in no position to do anything other than stare at him with hazy eyes, mouth open and panting as he pulls out of you, and starts fingering you instead, grinning as you whine into his mouth- already begging him to put himself back inside. "ohmyfucking-" "s so tight baby shit-" "jesus y're gonna be the death o' me,"
♥ i mean come on. every time you brace yourself on a table- a counter, whatever the fuck, that's soap's time to shine. he starts off strong with a harsh slap on your ass before he starts humping you, panting on your shoulder and muttering curses under his breath. "such a good girl f'r me, so pretty baby..."
♥ soap loves coming on your tits. that's it
könig
♥ vocal könig (how it should be) being absolutely drunk on the feeling of your tight pussy around him
♥ one of könig's absolutely favorite things to do with you, is have you lean back on his chest, pretty legs spread wide open for him as his fingers work you towards multiple orgasms, his own moans and grunts of appreciation egging you on. "So pretty for me..." "T's my pussy hm? Mine."
♥ he absolutely loves when you insist on taking care of him, knowing how much you get off on watching him squirm, and he especially loves your hungry look as you watch him come undone, his cum dripping down your hand. "Ah- s-slow down..!"
john price
♥ price loooves making his good girl come, that's why he can't help but circle your pretty clit the moment he thrusts his hard cock inside your perfect cunt, moaning lowly as he feels you clench around him, muttering sweet words against your temple as pleasure clouds his mind "c'mon now sweetheart, you can come"
♥ um-yeah as i said he loves making you feel good, so why not use his mouth to do it? price's mind be like : no thoughts just pussy
♥ THIS JUST SCREAMS PRICE IDK WHAT ELSE TO SAY HOLY SHIT, the side fucking? the staring at your profile as you moan sweetly for him? yeah. "such a tight. fucking. cunt.-" "you can take it. I know you can."
bonus the side fucking is such a price thing i can't-
phillip graves
♥ phillip often pulls you in a secluded room- having thought of you the whole day and wanting to let out his pent up frustrations on you, he makes you swear not to make any noise as he starts bouncing you on his cock, deep down loving the fact that you can't keep your fucking mouth shut as he ends up bending you over and having his way with you "bounce that ass on me, fuck-just like that" "keep moaning baby c'mon- you know i love that shit"
♥ his number one goal is to ruin you for all other men- and that's exactly what he does each and every time he gets his hands on you. he also loves to look at you as he grabs your jaw to tilt your head back, seeing your pretty eyes roll back, drool running down your mouth (an absolute menace)
♥ graves absolutely loves overstimulating you to the point where you're a blubbering mess for him- and even more so how your cute little cunt responds to his touch every god damn time. "What's that? You want more? Yeah, you do."
dededos
annaxmalina
discoholicmusic
baratheonpilled
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