#AO3 works tagged 'Lo

[keylovesstuff]

Lost and Found

Mario fandom, may I humbly offer my first contribution lol. A Peach fanfic cause I can't get my mind off this gal. A little idea that's been crawling in my brain for a while, and I finally sat myself down in front of a word doc to just write it up. So, takes place in the movie-verse until the point in the flashback where baby peach encounters the toads and just a tad bit after that.

The small blonde walked through the now abandoned town in search of just anyone at this point. Stores that were once filled with shoppers looking to purchase a variety of different things while workers assisted were now empty. The playground where she'd play and laugh with girls and boys of all ages was now filled with silence. Home, where she had awoken from a nap alone for the first time ever, was missing her mom and dad. The door was left wide open as she scrambled off the couch making a grab for her purple blanket and tying around her neck. With pink shoes now on the best way her parents showed her how to and pacifier in hand she was out the house. What started out as a fun game of hide and seek in the young child's mind, began to grow into worry as the sky went from a beautiful light blue to a bright orange.

"Mommy? Daddy? Hello" The child once again called out, peering around yet another aisle inside yet another building. The three-year old made sure that no area was left unsearched even if that meant stacking items on top of each other to reach door handles. For the tenth time in her mind, she was met with no response.

Small blue eyes began to fill up with tears as she felt her heart break in two. Sniffling, she Reached up to her cheeks to wipe away the wetness and reached inside her skirt pocket for her pacifier. It wasn't much but it did bring her some comfort as it always would. Vaguely she could hear her father telling her mother how she was getting too old for it and should have been weaned off of it ages ago. A small smile would appear on her mother's face while she cooked up a meal in the kitchen laughing as she would always promise to start the process next week only to not follow through. With another failed search in locating anyone, the girl left the store feeling exhausted mentally and physically. Little legs aching for a break after walking for what seemed like forever she finally gave in, sitting on the ground and leaning against the brick wall of the store. 

Taking the blanket from around her neck she covered her body and closed her eyes. The child's mind finally embraced the negative thoughts that started to itch at her brain after the fifth place she looked. 

No, there will be no one at the next place you go.

No matter how loud you call out, no one will answer back.

Yes you are alone and will never see anyone again.

With the last of her hope dissolving, she succumbed to sleep and let the last of her tears fall.

The cold breeze awoke her from her slumber this time, having shifted from her original sitting to lying on her side sometime in her sleep causing the blanket to slide off. Shivering slightly she wrapped the blanket as tightly around her as she could to feel warm.  Wiping the sleep from her eyes, she realized that the sky was now a dark blue and the only light came from the moon and the many of the stars in the sky.  A memory of sitting in her dads lap with her mom on his side pointing out the stars on a grassy field to them flashed before her eyes.  They began to fill up with salty water after removing her sight from the sky to look across the street when something strange caught her eye. Floating and staring was a pink pudgy starry figure that she only ever saw in the picture books her parents read to her during bedtime.  Sitting up she stared right back into the creature's black eyes as she tried to recall the name the stories gave it.

"A Duma?" She took her pacifier out and voiced aloud as its name finally came to mind. It made a sound in a language that probably no one would understand. The Luma beckoned with its entire body to follow and started off down the street. Puzzled for a moment to process things she shook her head standing up and frantically cried out "Wait, please don't go" she grabbed her blanket once again placed it around her neck and pocketed her pacifier before taking off in the direction it went.

The Luma led her to the forest that every adult, be it their families or not in the town warned every child that could walk not to enter. As it went ahead, the little girl came to a complete stop where the town ended and the forest started hesitating to cross. Sensing that she was no longer following, the Luma also came to a stop and turned to face her, repeating the beckoning gesture from before.

"Duma, I'm not supposed to go in there." She explained with a soft voice pointing a finger at the forest  that is full of unknown secrets.  "I'll get in trouble if someone sees me-"  that last word barely escaped her mouth before she promptly closed it, bringing her previous hand to cover her mouth.

The thoughts from earlier crept back into her mind, repeating the phrases she tried hard to ignore throughout the day. This time though a new thought came to her mind. What if everyone went into the forest and was just waiting for her to join them?  A new hope filled up in her chest and she looked at the Luma with a newfound determination and courage.

"Ok I'll follow you, but you gotta promise that there's anyone there" She told the creature and it responded with the same unknown sound. 

"Alright let's go then" she let out a small giggle before looking at her feet one by one as they crossed into the beginning of the forest. The girl turned to take in one final look at the empty and stared for a moment before following the Luma further in.

The two figures ventured in silence for a little while longer. The blonde child only stopped every few feet to glance around and up ahead for any sign of a familiar figure. The Luma came to a stop first and the girl bumped into its body several seconds after being distracted. 

"Hey why did we-" she started to ask but could not continue the rest of her question as she took in her new surroundings. The luma had led them to an area with a stony ground surrounded by huge pillars. What had caught her eye the most was the green object built in between the two pillars as it glowed a white light in the middle. "Wow" was the only word she could bring herself to voice.

The girl suddenly had a feeling that whatever was inside the pipe was calling to her as she started to walk forward only to be stopped by the Luma placing its body against her to keep her in place. The Luma floated lower to the ground and it took the child a few moments to figure that it must have wanted her to sit down. Sitting on the ground she crossed her legs and placed her hands in between them facing the green object. With more than decent patience for a child her age, she started squirming in place the longer they sat there the more she wanted to just get up and go into the mysterious object. From fiddling with the blanket around her body to messing with the object in her pocket to tapping her fingers against her legs, all of that could only distract her but so much from not focusing on the light. What if everyone was waiting for her on the other side and she was holding them up by waiting here? As soon as that thought entered her mind she got up and tried to make a dash as quick as her little legs could go.

All she could process was the sound of the Luma making a noise behind her and bumping into something the next moment before landing on her bottom. Rubbing her head she looked up to what had caused her to fall and what she saw took her by complete surprise left her speechless.A light blonde haired women with a bang covering one eye wearing a crown in a beautiful blue dress was levitating slightly above the ground and holding a star wand appeared in front of her with a smile. While she never knew everyone in the town, she was certain she would remember a person that could float.  The question 'who are you' was on the tip of her tongue but she couldn't bring herself to voice it aloud, It didn’t take much longer for the women above her to speak.

“Hello there little one, It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She kindly greeted the child who still stared at with a confused expression in her eyes and mouth agape in question.

 “You have gone through so much in such a short amount of time. Allow me to heal your mind.” With that said, she lowered the wand to the child's head. It began to glow as all the negative thoughts and memories left.

On one hand it felt as though nothing could hold the child back from embracing any and everything that would come her way. On the other hand it felt as though two important people disappeared and she couldn’t recall who they were or if they ever existed in the first place. The woman removed her wand when she was satisfied with her magic. The girl continued to look on with wide eyes.

“You are going to do so many amazing things and inspire so many in your future.” The woman started to say to the child who looked on with wonder filled eyes.

 “You will meet allies and foes alike. There will be many challenges you’ll have to face but you will get through them with your bravery. I have already seen it.” She assured and moved to the side to reveal the glowing green object once more.

“Go on in, They are waiting for you on the other side. Guide and Protect them. Show them what a respectable and kind leader you can be. Our paths will cross again one day” With that final promise the woman started to vanish before the girl's eyes.

When the figure faded away completely she was once again alone and had so many questions. What did all of it mean? Was everything the women said was true? Who will she meet on the other side? That last question would be answered sooner rather than later as she could finally enter the thing that was pulling her in. While she was mostly ready to take that step, there was a small part of her that was fearful of the unknown. Reaching in her pocket once more she grabbed her pacifier and put it in her mouth to feel that comfort, before taking in a small breath and stepping in. Finding herself flowing aimlessly through this portal, she took in the colors some of which she had never seen before. Despite floating in midair she felt calm and just let the current take her to its predetermined destination. Up ahead she saw another round green object similar to the one in the stoned area, The current around her started to slow down in preparation to enter the pipe again. 

The girl was finally able to stand up and walk on her own two feet the rest of the way. Clutching her hands she took in the environment around her as the exit came closer she placed her hand on the green object to hold her balance as she took a step down. Taking this time to look in front of her she noticed that these rainbowed people dressed in identical clothing and were slightly taller than herself but they had this warm and inviting presence about them that made approaching them much easier so she did. The creatures also approached her but with slightly more caution in their step following the green person who was leading the other two bent down in front of her with a smile. The woman's words of being ‘a kind person’  ringed in the back of her mind. So she did what she thought was the nicest thing and took out her cherished pacifier and stuck it in the creature's mouth who looked on in confusion. Giggling she jumped up wrapping her arms around its shoulders immediately feeling safe and secure as this person also embraced her holding her up.

“Told you that you had a way with kids” came a teasing voice from behind. “Ow what I say?” the yellow person rubbed its arm and stared offendedly at the other person that whacked him moments prior.

“Now’s not the time for jokes, you dummy this is serious.” the red one scolded the other. “Some strange person just came out of the pipe after it's been glowing all day. It could be here to kill us.” It tried to get the other to understand their point of view. “You better take that thing out of your mouth TG, it could be poisonous” he suggested to the green guy. The yellow one scoffed out a ‘really dude c’mon’ under its breath.

“Mmm” TG mouthed before shifting the child's body weight onto one side of its body removing the pacifier and sticking it back into her mouth. “Well it does just seem like an innocent baby, but better safe than sorry. Let’s head to Toadsworth. He could probably tell us what you are. Yes he can” he gave the blonde's belly a tickle drawing out that giggle from earlier. 

“No, don't make friends with it, we aren't sure of its motives yet” The red one tried again with no avail as it began to lead the way back to the others with the other two trailing behind. 

“I like the moon, it's pretty” was the first sentence the child said out loud as she pointed at the object in the sky as they all hiked back.

“Wow you do?” TG engaged with her as she nodded eagerly. “I do too, it's very pretty on nights like these” he agreed with her. Several minutes of this went on where she pointed out things she likes and he would talk with her. At one point even the yellow guy hopped into the conversation much to the annoyance of the red person.

“Hey, what are you?” she asked tapping TG’s shoulder to get his attention.

“What am I? Oh well I’m what's called a Toad. Can you say that? Toad” he mouthed it out loud to her slowly and they both repeated it several times.

“I like Toad, they're nice,” she said, nuzzling her face closer into TGs neck and wrapping her arms around him tighter. Before he could return the compliment the red toad spoke up.

“We’re here guys, let's go.” He knocked on the door three times before a brown spotted Toad with a brown mustache and red bowtie appeared in the doorway. “Something finally came out the pipe that we’ve been keeping an eye on all day. It appears to be a baby of some kind” he added as the three of them were ushered inside.

Toadsworth offered them tea as they all began to gather around the small table. The child continued clutching onto the green toad and only glanced every now and again at the mustached gentleman. The four of them conversed over tea gathering new information from the elder Toad. They first found out its gender which was revealed to them as a female and that she belonged to one of the species called humans, though with there being many galaxies and regions they could reside in, the probability in pinpointing the exact place of origin she was from would be a challenge even a guy as smart as him couldn’t figure out. They also came to the conclusion that based on how she interacted with the environment that she was on par with the toad children starting school. The red toad finally stopped giving the child a look of suspicion and after the third round of tea the host directed the conversation towards the blonde girl reaching for the kettle in the middle of the table.

“Oh how rude of me. Please accept my sincerest apologies my dear.” Toadsworth quickly got out of his seat heading over to the cabinet to grab another cup. “A gentleman must always offer a lady a drink.” He started to pour her a cup of tea before the green toad interrupted 

“I think she might be a little too young for tea or anything with caffeine for that matter, Toadsworth sir.” he said, motioning his head to the child who now had her own seat.

“You are quite right, The youth these days mustn't get used to relying on stuff like this.” Toadsworth chuckled and went over to the fridge to see what refreshments he had in there. “Oh yes I just received a carton of milk from the meadows this morning. Would you like that m’lady?” In response he got an excited round of applause from the child. 

Toadsworth offered to take care of the child for the remainder of the night and start some research in the morning for which planet she could be from and if needed within the next couple of days or weeks put together a group of toads to get this kid back home to her parents. He prepared her for bed first and then went through his nighttime routine which included grabbing a snack for bed, tonight being a fresh bowl of sliced peaches. The girl sat on the bed flipping through a picture book he gave her.

“Well my dear I’m terribly sorry for just now realizing this” He apologized, placing the bowl on the nightstand next to the bed she looked up from the book first to the food and then to him. “My fellow comrades or I failed to ask you your name. So what are you called?” he asked and she stared at him for a few moments before she opened her mouth.

“I want the Peach” she pointed to the bowl that was on the nightstand behind him causing him to reach for the bowl and present it in front of her, smiling when she reached out and grabbed a couple slices.

“Ok now back to important matters.” he cleared his throat into his fist. “What would you like us to call you for the time that you reside with us?” He tried again to get her to focus on what he was asking.

“I like Peach” She said with a smile after finishing the last bite flashing him a toothy smile and he stared at her thoughtfully for a moment.

“Alright I shall call you Lady Peach when you’re in my presence and make sure everyone calls you that as well” He told her and assumed she’d probably have a different answer to the question by tomorrow or the next couple of days.

[0ann3]

( 〃．．) First time doing a pure text post, but I'm considering drawing twst rarepairs for the whole month of April like a challenge AKSJHAKSJAHS

I was supposed to do it during February, but I forgot to do it until around 2nd week and I really didn't properly plan this out, so I'm posting this today so I wouldn't forget again and to motivate myself LMAO

If anyone reading this does know some interesting twst rarepair, do feel free to share, so I can consider and perhaps add them to the list heheheh, but either way, I'm going to read some more vignette or do a roulette to see which ones gonna stick in my mind as so far it's just:

Azul x Deuce Malleus x Jade Malleus x Trey Vil x Trey Riddle x Silver (?) Silver x Ruggie (?)

(◕ ◕) If I can't think of any more ships until the near end of March, I'll just stick with what I have listed

[kivino]

I DON’T CARE WHAT’S IN YOUR HAIR || ROOMMATE!JOHN ‘SOAP’ MACTAVISH X GN!READER

Word Counter – 1.9k

Tags/Warnings – Some friendly banter, can be read as both platonic and romantic, fluff!

Summary – Your roommate Johnny comes back after his deployment and his hair looks like it needs a little trimming.

A/n – I AM ON MY ROOMMATE!SOAP AGENDA AND I WILL SPREAD IT FAR AND WIDE. let me know if you guys would like to see more roommate!Soap things on my blog, i'm very interested in different opinions!!!

ao3 link!!

Soap couldn’t wait until he was finally back home – several months had passed since his last leave and he was getting restless and antsy without the very much-needed rest. And, well, your company, which he missed more and more each day. You’d constantly be on his mind, plaguing his every thought with your presence, from a rather simple, passing “Oh, they’d like this joke” inside his head to talking the ears off of anyone who’d listen to him ramble about his lovely roommate, who he affectionately called “my dumbass back home”. Slowly, but surely, the number of people willing to lend an ear to restless Johnny became less and less, with each day of him staying on the base. So really, it was more of a favor extended to all the resident soldiers there.

Soap could almost feel the buzz of excitement itching under his skin, the commute back to your shared apartment was really long and tiring; the huge duffel bag filled to the brim with dirty laundry and a variety of clothes he shoved inside in a hurry didn’t help with the soreness in his body either. Soap, thankfully, didn’t forget to tell you earlier this week that his leave got approved, which you didn’t seem too excited about over the text, but he knew that you were screaming and jumping from joy. Maybe.

The last time he forgot to do that ahead of time he came back to an absolute disaster inside the apartment, with you trying to cook dinner while doing laundry, vacuuming, and cussing him out for not telling you earlier. Truth be told, Johnny didn’t mind if the apartment was messy, with undone dishes and whatnot, he’d help you do everything, but you were fixed on the fact that you should do it yourself and it’s absolutely crucial that everything has to be perfect by the time he’s back. Ghost joked that you had some military spouse mentality when Soap mentioned it to him (among countless other times he’d tell the big guy about you). Maybe there was some truth to this joke. Just maybe.

Regardless, Johnny could feel the bounce in his step and the same lightness in his chest when he was finally within a short walking distance of the apartment, and he just simply couldn’t wait to see you, even if you were a bit tired after all the cleaning you’d have to do in the apartment to keep up this image of a “perfect roommate”, despite being to him much more than just that. Seconds drag out unbearably long when he’s going up the steep stairs in the building that have certainly seen better times than the 21st century, and Soap thinks he could combust when he has to rummage through his pockets for the keys he hasn’t used in months. Johnny could hear the vacuum moaning from exertion from his place outside the door and an unintentional smile grazes his lips when he hears you cursing something out in your native language. Johnny finally fishes the key out of his pocket, hurriedly unlocks the door, and goes inside, as quietly as he can, which you can still hear even over the sound of a working vacuum.

“Johnny, you ass, you’re finally back.” You’re immediately distracted from the home appliance, as you turn it off and focus your attention solely on Soap, running up to him across the room and helping him with the giant duffel bag. “Thought you died out there with long they held up your leave.” You mumble with a chuckle that turns into a rough shriek, courtesy of Johnny squeezing the life out of you with a tight and warm embrace.

“Aye, there we go, bonnie, let’s hug it out!” If you could hear over his loud booming voice you were sure you’d hear your bones snapping from how tight his arms wrapped around your torso. You’d probably hug him back if you could free your arms out of Johnny’s hug too, but that didn’t seem to be an option at the moment.

“Johnny, for fuck’s sake, you stink!” You only hear a hearty laugh in response to your dramatic delivery. You tried to seem annoyed with Soap, which was a bit harder than you initially thought. You kind of missed him, the apartment felt cold and empty without his chatter.

“And that’s how you treat me after we haven’t seen each other for months? You wound me so deep.” The man says in a mock-sad tone. Deep inside of him, he felt that – you’re not being serious and just messing with him. So, he only continued squeezing you in his arms, without much thought. “When did you shower last time anyway?” you ask with a light groan. “Not in the past 24 hours, I’ll tell ya that.” Johnny’s chest rumbles with a low laugh and you can feel those vibrations going right through you, from how close you were.

“Oh, fuck off. And what’s with the hair? Decided to take some fashion advice from those edgy lads down the road?” You finally look up at Soap and he looks…Interesting to say the least. It’s obvious that someone probably helped him trim down the sides, since they didn’t appear much longer than they were several months ago when he left last. The longer part of the mohawk, however, made him look like he decided to go full mullet, with parts of his hair cut in certain places, like there was an attempt to make it shorter. It wasn’t bad-looking by any stretch of the imagination (in fact, you were sure, that Johnny can make look good just about anything if he managed to pull off the fucking mohawk in the first place), but you had to take the piss at him while you had the chance.

“Everyone’s a critic. Help me cut it then, will ya?” The man asks, slightly loosening his iron grip on you to look you in the eyes with an infectious smile.

“Only after you wash.”

“Naturally.”

And that’s how you find yourself in the cramped, tight bathroom of your apartment, Johnny sitting in front of the mirror on a stool, back hunched over the sink and you standing right behind him, with a pair of scissors and a clear goal in mind – sort out whatever mess was on his head. If it was up to you, you’d find a person who decided to make Johnny the next victim of their questionable fashion choices and cut off their fingers so they can never hold anything that can cut hair in their hands again. But for now, you just have to figure out what to do with Soap.

“You look like a feral rat on steroids, Johnny,” You say, as your fingers slowly drift through the longer, very grown-out parts of his mohawk. You look at his reflection in the mirror and your eyes meet, despite the weird angle his head was positioned at, just to rest on your stomach. Soap gives you a lopsided smile and closes his eyes with a relaxed sigh. That bath must’ve been good, you scrubbed the shit out of the bathroom yesterday.

“Well, somebody’s gotta be the pretty one outta the pair of us.” If you were meaner than you already are you’d yank his hair to teach his ass a lesson. But you don’t. And he knows you wouldn’t do that, which is why you can see one barely open blue eye staring back at you from the mirror. He’s such a pain in the ass, but you love him. The world will collapse the day you actually acknowledge that though.

“You’re butt-ugly.” You mumble instead, playing with the damp strands of hair that refused to stand up the way they did before his deployment. You didn’t know much about the military dress code but you’d be surprised if he wasn’t violating any regulations with how his hair looked.

“Yer mum would disagree.” Johnny gave another hearty laugh and leaned more into you with his back. It really felt great to be back home. He could’ve still lived with his parents and sisters back on that farm, but as much as he loved them, relatives were too much sometimes. Maybe he should visit them soon with you. That’d be great. Johnny just has to explain beforehand that you’re only roommates, so it doesn’t turn into a big mess, that he’d hate to sort out.

“You don’t even know my mum, you wanker.” You slap Johnny on the shoulder lightly and he doesn’t even flinch. “Come on, straighten up.” He reluctantly obeys and gets up from his unusual resting position, you hear no verbal protests from him. With a light, gentle motion your hand ruffles his hair in approval.

“I’m sure she’s a woman of refined taste.” This earns Soap another slap to the shoulder, to which he laughs like a damn schoolboy. Your eyes are glued to his hair, studying it carefully. You didn’t have much experience even trimming it on somebody else, so this was a bit nerve-wracking – you didn’t want to mess up and make Johnny look worse. Although not a lot of things could look genuinely bad on the man, you were willing to admit that. You finally take the scissors that have been sitting on the edge of the sink for the past half hour and pinch the longer stand that fell over Johnny's eyes between your index and middle fingers. “Well, what are you waiting for? Cut it.” He tries to hurry you, and you can’t even see the way he observes your expression - brows tied together in a thoughtful frown, Johnny thought it looked quite cute.

“Shut up, I’m thinking.” Your eyes rise to the mirror again and he playfully rolls his eyes. He doesn’t say anything though, letting you take your time, as you put down the scissors. You start ruffling Johnny’s hair again and you see the way he closes his eyes in the reflection, a warm smile stretching his lips. Your hand rests on the side of his face for a moment and not even a second passes, before you feel Soap’s palm rest over it in a gentle motion. But it doesn’t end on it, when he rubs his cheek over your skin, his stubble scratching you slightly. You let him have this moment though.

You look at his hair, as you ruffle and play with it using your free hand, and your realization makes you want to bash your head on the wall. You like it better like this. This is stupid and you feel like an idiot. At least you had an idea on how you can tell Johnny that you changed your mind about cutting his hair. Your fingers dive into his hair again, scratching the scalp lightly with the nails as you give your final verdict, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

“I don’t think I can make it any worse than it already is, to be honest. Somebody fucked you over real good with that one.” You lie right to his face. Johnny opens his eyes and gives you a mischievous smile when he hears that.

“So, what I hear is you’re chickening out?’ He asks with a light, airy laugh that makes even the cold bathroom feel warmer.

“Johnny, get out of here before I shave you bald”

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[notjustjavierpena]

I have recently watched scenes from a marriage with oscar isaac and my mind which connects everything with hubby javi immediately went to this:

imagine wife’s and javi’s friends are going through a divorce, there’s cheating m, miscommunication etc and just a very hard time.

I feel like Javi and Wife would have a conversation about this due to the proximity of it happening to their friends. One about trust and if they’re happy. It’s not about insecurity or anything just them both communicating effectively and giving the other reassurance that this is not on the cards for them.

I just value their relationship so much.

Reassess

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost

A/N: Hiya anon! I hope it’s okay that I tweaked your request slightly to fit my version of hubby and wife. Enjoy ❤️ Thanks so much for proofreading, @angelofsmalldeath-codeine !!!

Summary: You and Javier’s friends are going through a divorce, and it suddenly makes you wonder about your own marriage.

Pairing: Javier Peña x reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18, talk about divorce, talk about cheating, brief descriptions of piv sex with creampie, hurt/comfort, love!, mention of pregnancy and pregnant reader, cuddling, kisses, Javier is a great husband and you are anxious

Word count: 1.6k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54352768

Reassess

Jonathan and Mira are getting a divorce. The news had been announced to you by Javier when he entered the dimly lit living room on a Thursday night, looking paler than a ghost after what you had wrongly assumed to be a same-as-always phone conversation about football, work and going out for a beer in the near future. 

“No!” You had instinctively covered your mouth with your hand to suppress an animated gasp. Apparently, Mira had come clean about seeing another man a few days earlier and it only took shy of two days for their whole marriage to crumble. The thought was and is terrifying. 

It seems to dampen the mood between you and your husband significantly. There are more pregnant silences, longer stares, more hurried kisses, and worried faces in the middle of your daily routines that become opportunities for reflection when doing something mundane as folding laundry. However, the elephant in the room becomes most unbearable when Javier rolls off of you after making love to you a week after the news hit. 

He stares up at the ceiling and pants as he tries coming down from his high, reaching up to run his fingers through his slightly sweaty hair. You shift on your side of the bed to turn your body towards him, and gently lay a hand on his chest, “That was really good.”

“Hm? What?” He replies, “Oh right, yeah.”

“Honey,” you furrow your brow, “I don’t think I particularly like having sex with you if you’re not here with me.” 

“Lo siento (I’m sorry),” his eyes find yours, his voice is genuine, “I can’t stop thinking about Jon and Mira.”

Your eyes soften at that. It is nice to know that he is as shaken by this happening as you are, and in such close proximity to your own marriage too even if it technically has nothing to do with you. It suddenly hits why it has been so hard to start up a conversation about it. 

“Me either,” you sigh and scratch his chest gently with your nails and lay your head on his shoulder. He takes hold of your wrist and rubs the back of your hand with his thumb in soothing circles, “I can’t believe they ended up like that, who would have thought?”

“And Ava?” Javier sounds devastated and turns his head toward yours so he can rest his lips in your hair. 

“She must be so confused,” you mumble back, lost in thought. Ava is Mira and Jonathan’s daughter who sometimes has play dates with Inés, and to think that she has to deal with her parents not being able to work as a couple, especially since Mira apparently had to go sleep with someone else, is a scenario that you find nauseating when your brain automatically starts imagining your own children in the same scenario. You don’t think Lucas would ever forgive you if you caused that much hurt to his father, “I don’t know what Mira was thinking. Ava has to deal with her mom having hurt her dad. Why would she put her through that?”

“Jonathan said she’s in love with this new guy,” Javier argues. 

“I suppose sometimes you just fall in love with someone else,” you say without any emotion in your voice except for maybe a hint of disgust. 

“Are you happy? With me?” The question has been looming over the both of you since the news hit. It was only a matter of time before one of you would start reassessing your own marriage. 

You lift your head up to look Javier straight in the eyes, and even if you knew it was coming, you still feel taken aback by how much it makes your guts turn to even be told to consider it. The answer is so clear, “What? I—“

“That’s not an immediate yes,” he furrows his brow in concern. 

“Don’t be absurd,” you say back, “I love you so much it’s ridiculous.”

“But do you ever worry about us?” He continues. 

“This is the part where you say you love me too,” you joke without much humor in your voice. 

“Are you kidding? I’m nothing without you,” he lifts the hand you still have on his chest to kiss your palm, “Te amo tanto (I love you so much) but I need you to answer the question.”

“I don’t ever worry about us, no,” you answer truthfully and Javier visibly relaxes, “I know you. I trust you. It doesn’t even occur to me that I could have anything different in my life, you know? It feels like I would always have found you somewhere else if not here.”

“Perhaps they looked for something else when things became routine,” he suggests, resting your hand against his cheek.

“It’s never routine for me to tell you I love you,” you tell him with a little smile, “There’s no going back to the way things were before you.” 

“The idea of having anything else but this,” he trails off for a second, weighing his words and reaching out for you with his free hand. He cups the back of your knee to pull your leg over his naked body, “It’s just not in the cards for me. I’ll never love anyone the way that I love you.”

“Is this code for you’re stuck with me?” You crawl closer to kiss him on the mouth and tighten the leg around him, “Hm?”

“Sí (yes), you’re stuck with me, baby,” he says against your lips. 

“Do you promise that?” You whisper after pulling back a little, smiling softly as you look down at his mouth. He initiates another kiss after nodding. 

You kiss for a while without rushing it, deeply until you share each breath in your intense embrace. Despite just having had sex with him fifteen minutes ago, you want him again in a way that has him as hard as when you first got together. He fucks you open slowly with you on your back, makes you come on his cock with an almost pained tone in your whimper. He is everywhere on you, soaking you in love. The way he gasps along with you as he comes inside of you has your heart pounding in your chest. 

“No quiero a nadie más que a ti (I don’t want anyone else other than you),” he says when basking in the afterglow. However, you have already gotten out of bed to get cleaned up in the bathroom. In contrast to your husband, your afterglow is replaced by anxiety that you have just promised isn’t there. 

“I don’t want to end up like that,” you say while peeing with the door open. Javier moves on the bed to be able to look at you. 

“We won’t, te lo prometo (I promise you that),” he is quick to answer. You try to give him a smile but he notices the way you falter, “Anything you want to talk about? Anything on your mind?"

“They used to be so happy,” you sigh deeply and get up after finishing your business. You move to the sink and start washing your hands, your back suddenly towards him, “Makes me wonder if we're strong enough to weather anything.”

You hear the weight of him shift on the mattress and a second later, the soft pads of his feet across the tiled bathroom floor. He is behind you, looking at you in the mirror. You feel grateful for the sincerity in his eyes.

“Baby,” he tuts, wrapping his strong arms around you from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder. One of his hands goes down to lay on your stomach right below your belly button. You have just started to show, and the both of you have already talked about how early it is that your belly has started protruding but none of you have any clue why yet as you haven’t had your first scan. 

Javier kisses your bare shoulder, “This is my life, and I love it, and I would never hurt you… I trust you not to hurt me too.”

You silently turn off the tap to dry your hands but Javier doesn’t let you move. He lifts your chin so he can stare at you in the mirror, “I need you to trust me when I say that ten years with you have only made me want ten, twenty, thirty more. I love you. I choose you every day. Jonathan and Mira didn’t choose each other. We’re not them.”

“I love you too,” you shake your hands dry instead and then turn in your husband’s arms. You hug him close and he walks you out of the bathroom whilst still holding you tightly. 

“Three kids so far,” he reminds you whilst guiding you back to bed, “A decade down the line. We must be doing something right.”

“But what if—“

“You worry too much, mi vida (my life),” he says and smacks your ass as you crawl back into your bed. You glare back at him but he just snickers while crawling in too, “Get comfortable and go to sleep.”

“I don’t know if I can,” you say truthfully.

“Of course, you can,” Javier joins you under the covers. He lays down close to you and without saying a word, reaches out to gently and repeatedly stroke his hand over your hair. The warmth of his palm soothes your worry, each caress easing away the weight in your chest. 

You wonder if Mira left because Jonathan didn’t do this sort of thing anymore. Javier has done it for ten years. This fact makes sleep find you easily.

.

.

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[nexysworld]

POOL SEX !

i know i don't really much to say but probably something like leon just renovated his house or something and calls his neighbour over for a party and boom they end up having sex in the pool

Hi Anon, absolutely loved this concept! This first one I wanted to do with RE2R Leon and there will be a second one with SugarDaddy!ID Leon x Reader as well. Hoping to have that out either later today or tomorrow, since it's mostly written. Wet Times, Fun Times P1

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Pairing: RER2 Sub!Leon x Female!Reader Summary: You just can't seem to keep your eyes off the new pool boy. His shy nature has you wanting to eat him alive. Tags: NSFW, Smut, Pool Sex, Super subby Leon, unprotected sex, outdoor sex, accidental voyeurism, nipple play (male and female), no use of y/n, creampie, fem receiving oral, cum eating, slight dubcon elements, not beta read.

As you laid in the lounge chair, soaking in the warmth of the sun's rays, a cool shadow casted over your closed eyes. Thinking someone had blocked your view of the sky, you opened one eye to see who it was. Lo and behold, standing before you was a young man looking anxious, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. The logo on his swim shorts revealed he worked for the company that serviced your family's pool.

“Can I help you?” You asked, irritated that your sunbathing had been interrupted. 

“Sorry for bothering you Miss. My name’s Leon. Leon Kennedy.” He reached out to shake your hand, and when you didn’t reach forward to match the gesture he pulled back immediately, letting it go lax at his side. “I just wanted to let you know I’ll be working on adding chemicals to the pool, so you might want to stay out of it for a while.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind” You rolled your eyes, before closing them again. His timorous nature would've been endearing to you if you hadn't been so focused on wanting to go back to your state of pure relaxation. “Now if you could please move, you’re blocking my sun.”

“Oh sorry.” He said, shuffling out of the way quickly, walking over to the equipment and buckets of chemicals that were stored by the shed. 

Despite your efforts to resume your relaxation, you couldn’t find the same sense of calmness from earlier, just boredom. You tapped your fingers on the lounge chair, hoping to self sooth. When it didn’t work you sat up, looking over at Leon who was currently skimming the water of debris. 

Eyes running up and down his body, you came to the conclusion he was attractive. His physique was slender but with enough definition for you to see the hint of abs. A wicked thought crossed your mind that  maybe he could help alleviate your boredom. Wanting to observe him more closely, you walked over to him. 

“Hey.” Your voice clearly startled him, causing him to whip around, eyes wide. You’re not sure you’d ever seen eyes that matched the color of the pool so perfectly before. Fully scanning him up close, he was definitely cute. His face had this boyish handsomeness to it and while you could do without the 90’s boy band haircut, it kind of suited him. 

“H-hey.” He said bashfully. “Sorry, you startled me.”

“I see that.” You said with a smile. “Sooooo….” You paused thinking of a way to get more information out of him. “You said I had to stay out of the pool for a while after you put chemicals in it, right? How long do I have to wait?”

“Oh, yeah. Well once I turn the system back on no one should go back in the pool for at least 30 minutes. Not too long a wait, luckily.”

You nodded, taking in the information. “I haven’t seen you around here before, are you new?”

“Yeah, first day on the job actually. I guess you could say I’m the new pool boy.”

“Well, Leon… ” you said, dragging out his name a bit. “Since I can’t swim for the next little while, why don't you help me make the most of this sunshine?” You gestured to the lounge chair you had vacated moments earlier. 

Leon’s face contorted into a nervous look as he tried to parse the meaning of your words, without any clarification to help him, he landed on the safest answer. “I don’t think that’s appropriate, Miss,” he stammered.

You leaned in a bit closer, letting your cleavage spill out of your bikini top a little and laughed. He seemed so sweet, you just wanted to eat him alive. "Inappropriate? But I just wanted a little help putting some more sunscreen on.” 

“Oh.” Relief washed over his features and he let out a small laugh, eyes darting away from your chest immediately. “I suppose in that case…just let me finish this ok? I’m almost done.” 

“Sure thing, handsome.” You said making your way back towards the chair. You swear you could almost hear the gears in his brain start to sputter when you called him that. As he finished cleaning and adding the chemicals to the pool, you saw his face would go red each time he dared to glance in your direction. ‘This is going to be really fun.’ You thought to yourself. When he was finally standing next to you, you handed him the bottle of sunscreen before flipping over, making sure you untied your bikini top. “Start with my back m’kay? I don’t want any tan lines now.” “Uh ok.” He said, squeezing a glob of the white cream out onto his hand. “Careful this might feel cold at first.” He warned, before his hands made contact with your back. It was a little cool at first, but soon it melted into a pleasurable mix of pressure and warmth as his large hands worked the sunscreen into your back and shoulders. 

“You feel amazing.”  Each movement of his broad hands slowly eased more and more tension out of your muscles. “Well thank you. I guess I have been told I’m good with my hands.” He said with a small laugh and there was a strange tone to his voice that you couldn’t quite catch. Daring to turn your head to get a peak at him, your eyes landed on the newly forming tent in his swim trunks. Deciding not to mention it yet, you put your head back down over your arms. 

“So, how many more houses do you have to stop by after here?” You asked, wanting to determine how much time you had to try and play. “Actually, this is the last one on my route.” He admitted.

‘Perfect! Jackpot!’ You thought to yourself as his hands pulled away. Taking the opportunity to sit up and stand, you reached a hand out gently teasing along his abdomen with the tips of your fingers. “M-Miss…your top…” He said, turning his head away. You shrugged and kept gliding your fingers upward before splaying your hand over his chest. Despite his exclamation, he didn’t stop your movements but you could feel his heartbeat speed up under your hand. Leaning in close, you whispered against his ear. “So? You’re telling me a guy as cute as you has never seen a girl topless before?” The hand on his chest worked its way down again until you gently ghosted your fingers along the hem of his shorts. “If this is anything to go by, I’d say you like what you see too.” You teased, pressing a kiss into his neck. 

He gulped dryly, mouth opening but words not coming out. You kissed him again, this time sucking gently on the skin of his neck earning a whine in response. It was music to your ears, and you pushed further nibbling as your hand ran down to cup him through his shorts. He bucked into your hand slightly, now draping an arm over your shoulder to help steady himself. Pulling away from his neck you smiled at him, bringing your free hand up to rub your thumb over his cheek. “Ok to keep going?” “Yeah - more than ok.” His mouth hung open slightly after he spoke. Taking the opportunity you leaned forward and captured his lips with yours, pressing close so your bare chest was pressed against his as you lapped your tongue against his bottom lip before sucking on it, earning more breathy whines from the man in front of you. You could feel your own heat begin to form, wetness pooling in the center of your swimsuit bottoms. You wanted to toss him down onto the lounge chair and ride him until neither of you could walk, and you had nearly planned too until you heard a door inside your house open up. “Shit! No one was supposed to be home yet.”

Leaving little time to think, the second the sliding door began to creak you whispered to Leon, “Go along with it.” Before nearly tackling him, causing you both to land in the pool, hoping enough time had passed that neither of you would die of chemical poisoning. 

Your heads popped up from the water just in time for your dad to slide the door open, arm coming to your chest to keep your breasts covered under the water. Luckily your dad didn’t come close enough to see anything besides your raised heads. “Hey Bug, you out here?” Your dad called from the doorway. “Yeah dad! Just having some fun in the pool. Aren’t you supposed to be at that work event with mom?” “I had to come back to grab something, just wanted to check in on you…who’s this?” You watched Leon’s face turn to absolute panic the moment your father’s eyes land on him. Deviously you worked your free hand over to cup Leon again under the water, causing him to tense up – he was still hard. He shot you a pleading look. “Oh this is Leon, he’s a new friend.” You answered on his behalf, continuing to work him through his swim shorts, feeling the heat radiate to your palm even through the cold water. A choked noise left his mouth that he covered by faking a cough. “Wouldn’t you believe it, we met at school and he just so happens to work for the pool company now too!” Your dad paused, processing the information. There was a slightly suspicious look on his face but he seemed to let it go. “Ok, well you know the rules,doors open at all times if you bring a boy into the house.” “Ah Dad, Leon’s just a friend. We aren’t gonna do anything.” You said with a smile, sticking your hand into the band of Leon’s shorts to make direct contact with his hard cock. The feeling caused Leon to wince slightly. You pumped it slowly, pussy clenching around nothing as your mind processed the feeling of him. He was thick and heavy, you couldn’t wait to be split open by him. Mentally you wondered what he’d look like under you, whining and begging. “ Bug , you know the rules. Leon, I'm sure you’re a great guy, but you know a father can never be too careful with his daughter.” You squeezed his balls slightly causing Leon to gasp, hiding it immediately by spewing some words out nervously. “Totally understand Mr. No worries here, doors open at all times, got it!” He put his hand up in a salute. “Alright well, you two kids have fun. Your mom and I should be back around 7.” “We will! Drive safe!” You called, as the door slid shut. You stood in place waiting until you heard the front door open and close before returning your full attention to Leon. “That wasn’t cool! If he caught us I’d have been a deadman!” Despite his protest he made no move to stop your hand. “Oh, you’re so right. How mean of me.” You teased mockingly and pulled your hand away so you could close the gap between you, wrapped your legs around his waist in the water. Using one arm over his shoulder for support, your free hand came up to slick his wet hair back, giving you a better access to his face. “Want me to make it up to you?” 

Not giving him a chance to respond, you smashed your lips together again, using your tongue to coax his out so you could suck on it. He used his hands to grind you against his still clothed erection, the sensation making your clit ache with need. “Staircase, baby.” You whispered in his ear, licking the shell. He obliged your order, wading over to the short steps while you worked more bites and love marks into his neck. Once at the steps, you halted his movements, lowering your legs so you were standing on your own. “So, what’d’ya say cutie. Wanna let me make it up to you?” “Well uhm…I think …” He trailed off in a tremble of nervous mumbling. “Gotta be a good boy and use your words for me.” You said, tugging down the waist of his swim trunks just enough for his cock to be freed above the shallow water you were standing in. Using your other hand, you untied your own  bottoms, letting them float away freely in the pool. 

Pushing Leon down, so he was seated on the step, you leaned forward bringing your wet thumb up to circle one of his hardened nipples, he bucked upwards again mewling. “Sorry baby, don’t understand that language. Gonna need you to speak more clearly.” 

Your teasing didn’t relent as you positioned yourself on his lap so his cock was trapped between the both of you as you toyed with him. “I know you can do it baby.” You cooed softly as you rubbed his cheek and ground down on him slightly adding a small friction between the two of you. “Yes…” He managed to get out as his head lulled back. “Yes what?” “Yes I want you to make it up to me.” He bucked upwards again when you brought your other hand up, pinching at circling both of his nipples. “I didn’t hear a ‘please.’” You added, tweaking one a little too hard on purpose. “P-please… please…please make it up to me…fuck…” The sound of him begging sent electricity straight to your clit, and if you weren’t half covered in water you swore your slick would’ve been leaking down your thighs already. “Such a good boy, asking so nicely.” You brought your hand up, to rub a circle in the small cleft of his chin, taking in the sex-drunk look on his face. “What do you want me to do to make it up for you?” “Need you so bad….please….” To punctuate his words he squirmed under you, the side of his shaft rubbing perfectly against your clit making you let out a moan. “Need me how, baby? I’m not a mind reader.” “Need to be inside you. Please ,I need to be inside you.” 

“S’that all?” You obliged his request, reaching between the two of you, feeding his cock into your hole as you sank down until he was as deep as possible. The hot and stinging stretch felt great, especially contrasted with the cold water covering your lower half. You didn’t move, just letting your walls flutter around him, enjoying the sensation of being full. “Can I touch you?” He asked through a pant. “Please?” You brought your hands to his, pulling them to your chest a silent confirmation. He happily kneaded at your breasts, leaning forward to suck one of your nipples into his mouth. “So good.” He mumbled, words muffled by your breast in his mouth. He used his tongue to circle the hard bud making you roll your hips on his cock, earning a gasp from him. “You like that? Like when I fuck myself on your pretty cock?” You rolled your hips again, before lifting yourself up and sinking back down. Your tit left his mouth with a pop and he gripped the concrete sides of the pull to steady himself. “Feels so good…you feel so good…” The sky blue irises of his disappeared as they rolled back. The sex-drunk look on his face made you move faster, wanting to hear more sounds from his kiss-swollen lips. You bounced yourself up and down, letting out gasps of your own each time the head of his cock would hit your cervix. “Such a good boy letting me use his cock.” You said, hands on his shoulders as your own head fell back.

“You…you’re so tight….love your pussy…love being in your pussy…” He bit his lip as he spoke, eyebrows knitting together as his eyes squeezed shut. You’d alternate between bouncing and rolling your hips, letting him thrust up with need. Between your previous teasing the way you were fucking yourself on him, he was already close. “I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum!” You took a moment to look down at him. The desperation for release burned in his eyes, his brows knitted together, tongue out slightly. He looked adorable, akin to a puppy. 

You stuck your tongue out, licking at his lips until he returned the motion with his own tongue. As you continued to ride him, the water splashed around you. Your walls began to flutter around his cock, internal muscles clenching him and drawing out his orgasm. His yell of pleasure was muffled by your mouth as he came inside you, the hot spurt of his seed making you moan in satisfaction. “Look at you, so pretty when you cum. I think that more than made up for being a little mean, yeah?” 

He nodded in response, words not coming to him as he worked to catch his breath. 

He was still trying to regain his breath when you stood, what was left of his cum leaking out slightly against your thigh mixing with the pool water. You sat on the edge of the pool opening your legs so he could get a look at your splayed out pussy, his cum dribbling out of it. “Look at what a mess you made, baby. Come clean it up for me.”  He managed to get himself standing on his own wobbly legs, thankful that the water helped keep him upright and moved forward, stopping in front of you. Leon didn’t hesitate to dive forward, tongue out. 

He pulled your legs over his shoulders as he sunk a little lower in the water to get a better reach. He lapped a line from your messy hole to your clit, loving the way he could taste himself mixed with your juices. He continued to clean you, slowly, languid, lazy licks that had you squirming. You reached between your legs to grab his hair, pushing him down slightly desperate for more traction. “Just like that baby, go deeper. Suck on my clit.” You squeezed his hair in encouragement as he did exactly what you wanted, sucking your swollen nub into his mouth, alternating sucking between your slit and your clit. “You taste so good.” He moaned between sloppy kisses to your cunt. “S’a treat, so good.”

You rolled your hips in time with his mouth. “That’s right, a treat all for you baby. Be a good boy now and make me cum” You released his hair to clench the edge of the pool once more, bracing yourself as he lapped furiously at your pussy. Licking and sucking greedily, it wasn’t long before he sent you over the edge. Your legs shook with the release of your orgasm, and in true good boy fashion, he didn’t stop until you were thoroughly cleaned out with his tongue, extending the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

Afterwards, you watched as he pulled himself out of the water, pulling his shorts back on. Extending a hand to you, he helped you up and steadied you on your feet, legs still feeling like jello after your orgasm. The two of you wandered together over to the lounge chair, wrapping yourself in a towel and pulling him to lay down with you.  He wrapped his arm around you, spooning you as he kissed your neck. You leaned your head back to give him better access and let out a content moan. “So good Leon, best I’ve ever had.” You said softly, enjoying the light pressure of his chest against your back. “Wanna keep being my good boy?” He hummed in agreement, the two of you relaxing as the soft breeze blew any remaining water droplets off of you. “Only if I can take you on a date though. A real one too, like dinner or the movies.” He finally spoke, voice soft in your ear. “I’ll pay for everything like a gentleman.” He peppered kisses to your neck and shoulders between words. “I like the sound of that.” The feeling of his breathing against your skin and the sounds of the crickets chirping as the sun began its descent had you feeling sleepier than anticipated. It wasn’t long until you’d both fallen asleep, wrapped in his arms, not even remembering to put your own swimsuit back on. A while later you woke to the sound of a car pulling into the driveway, your sleepsoaked brain took a minute to process what had happened. “Shit, wake up! Wake up!” You said, shaking Leon until he stirred. You worked quickly to haphazardly tie your bikini top back on, before wrapping the towel around your waist– forgoing the bottoms left in the pool, knowing you wouldn’t have time to grab them. “They’ll kill me if they see the marks on you. Quick.” You whispered, hurriedly wrapping a towel around his neck like a scarf. You’d just finished playing some music on your phone, trying to set up an ‘act normal’ scene as you heard the screen door open, the familiar voice of your mother calling for you. “Hey mom, hope the event was fun!” You said with an innocent smile. “It was and…oh this must be the boy your father was talking about. Leon, was it?” “Yeah, nice to meet you ma’am.” He said, shaking her hand, doing his best to keep the towel in place. “Will you be joining us for dinner?” “Unfortunately he can't, he was actually just leaving.” You said quickly. “Oh well, maybe next time.” “Oh I’d love that, Ma’am.” Leon added. “Ma’am? I already like him more than the last boy you had over, far more polite…and cuter.” She said with a laugh before slipping back into the house to begin cooking. 

You turned to Leon giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “See you next time, handsome.” He returned your kiss, making a b-line for his work van around the side of the house. You made your way over to the pool reaching in to try and fish your bottoms back to you, so you could head inside. The padding of footsteps nearly startled you this time as you turned to look at Leon. “Sorry, I almost forgot.” He held out his phone to you so you could type your number in. Tapping away at the screen, you handed it back to him once you were finished. “See you this weekend?” He inquired, eyebrow raised. “It’s a date.” You added, stepping into your freezing wet bottoms. “‘Night, Leon.” “Night.” He said, making his way back to the van again. You waited until the ignition started and you could hear him driving away to make your way inside to sit with your family for dinner. 

[softpascalito]

Pedro Pascal x Reader - Here with me

Summary: During his time in Morrocco, Pedro finds himself in need of reassurance. You are happy to help.

Relationships: Pedro Pascal x Reader

WC: ~1200

Tags/Warnings: RPF, Gender-Neutral Reader, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Pedro is a softie in this, the morroco pics made me do it, pedro pascals cream-colored hat, age differene (not specified), insecurities

AO3 LINK

Notes:

i hope yall like this! it is my first time posting a pedro work so id love to hear your thoughts on it <3 also watch me settle the six pack debate through the power of fanfiction.

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“I look stupid.” He muttered under his breath as he stood in front of the mirror. You weren't sure if he was talking to you or to himself. Still, you had caught every word.

“You do not look stupid.” “Fine, then I look- I don't know - bad.”

You sighed, finally turning your full attention towards the man you adored so much.

“You do not-” You crossed the bedroom in a few strides until you were behind him and could gently brush your hand over his back:” look stupid or bad-” He opened his mouth to protest but you immediately cut him off:” or whatever other similar attributes you have prepared.”

Pedro grumbled but it soon turned into a soft sigh as you carefully brushed the wrinkles out of his white tee and stood on your tiptoes to look over his shoulder, glancing at him in the mirror. He looked more than good, in your opinion. His skin was sunkissed, the colorful trunks went well with the basic shirt, he had put on some comfy sneakers and the light fedora he'd brought from Los Angeles. His hair was still a little messy after the shower you had shared and bits of it stuck out below his hat, making him all the more adorable.

You pressed a small kiss to his shoulder, just below his neck. The skin was soft and warm, having absorbed the sun throughout the long day you had spent exploring the streets of Morocco.

“You were so excited about bringing the hat when we packed, baby.” You mumbled to him, searching for his gaze through the mirror in front of you. He still didn't look at you, his eyes instead wandering over his body once more. Your lips were still on his skin and the vibrations of your voice carried into it as you spoke:” What's going on?” Pedro let out another small sigh:” Its nothing, I'm sorry. Just a long week.”

You knew shooting had been draining, the long hours combined with the physicality of the role and the heat- you admired how well he coped with it. Then again, maybe he didn't. Very gently, you stepped back and lowered your heels to the floor, returning to your normal height. You placed a hand on either side of his hips and slowly nudged him to turn around until he was fully facing you. Your left hand stayed on his hip while your right one wandered up to cup his face. He hadn't shaved in a while and you ran your thumb over his beard.

“What's going on?” You asked again, gazing up at him. You both knew he couldn't resist opening up to you. Not when you were looking at him like that. The words almost tumbled out of his mouth.“I just want to go somewhere without it ending up on social media. I want to go out with unwashed hair and a stained shirt and not worry about repeating an outfit or looking stupid or old or-” You shushed him gently, your hand still caressing his cheek.

“Baby, you can. Noone will mind, I promise.” He still looked doubtful. You didn't want to push him but at the same time you felt like you wanted to get to the bottom of this. You knew he needed the reassurance.

“You're afraid you'll look old?” He shrugged a little but it was accompanied by a small nod. So, that was it. “Can I ask something?” Your thumb had begun to draw circles on his cheek and he gave another silent nod.

“Are you scared that someone will think you're old?” You paused for a moment:” Or are you scared I will?”

His large brown eyes finally met yours and-

Oh.

Pedro barely had time to react as you leaned up and pressed a desperate kiss to his lips, trying to convey how much you adored him, making up for the words you couldn't find. He wrapped his arms around you, almost protectively and it suddenly occurred to you that he must've had that thought for a while.

“Pedrito, I- I don't think that.” You mumbled:” What makes you think I do? And don't say it was the stupid hat, you've worn that before.” He kissed you again, buying some time before he had to reply. “When we were at the beach a few weeks ago and I didn't have my reading glasses with me.” You knew exactly what he meant. And you immediately felt guilty. It had been a rare day off for the two of you and you'd decided to pack up some towels, books and snacks and spend the day at the beach. And then he had realized that he'd forgotten his reading glasses. And you had teased him about it.

“Baby, I didn't mean- Why didn't you say anything?” You asked quietly. You had pulled back a little more, to properly study his face. Just like you, he seemed to struggle with finding the right words. “I didn't want to make a whole deal about it. And I didn't- I didn't mind it. At first.” He explained gently. His voice was low and his gaze kept flickering away from your face:” I don't want you to miss out on things just because I, well, just because I'm older.” You couldn't help but let out a small giggle at that. Pedro stared at you like you had gone crazy:” What's so funny about that?” He demanded. You grinned up at him, your thumb still rubbing circles into his skin:” I'm not some rich Hollywood guy with a fancy yacht. I'm not going to trade you in for some young hunk with a six pack.”

You could tell he still tried to look a little mad but the corners of his lips curled a little as he tried, unsuccessfully, to hide his smile. That earned him another small laugh from you. “With this role, I might have a six pack soon, you know.” He teased as he finally looked down at you again. Your hand that had rested on his hips slowly moved under his shirt, finding his small, soft belly.

”As long as it makes for a comfortable pillow, I don't mind either.”

That elicited a small smile from Pedro. He watched your expression closely as you shifted, turning a little more serious. “I knew how old you were when we started dating. In fact, I'm pretty sure I knew before that.” You said gently:” I don't mind. I want to be with you. Siempre.” Your thumb had found the small, bald spot in his beard and rested in it for a moment. They fit perfectly. “Okay.” He whispered. And then it was his turn to try and convey an emotion he couldn't quite grasp with a kiss.

You understood.

After a while, you pulled back and studied his face for a moment, the way his eyes seemed a little watery, the shape of his nose, his slightly reddened lips. You smiled.

“If you wear the hat, I'll wear the dress.” It took him only a second to catch on:” The yellow one?” He asked, his face lighting up at the idea. ”The yellow one.” You confirmed.

You'd never seen him wear a hat with more pride.

[farfromstrange]

Long-Distance | Matt Murdock x Reader

masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x AFAB!Reader

Summary: Matthew gifts you a vibrator for while he's away - but it’s not at all what you think. He bought it for you to play with him and yourself at the same time. How can you say no to such a lucrative offer?

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ MINORS DNI, porn without plot, established relationship, no pronouns (but Matt calls reader a good girl), pure filth, mutual masturbation, use of a vibrator, soft!dom Matt, JOI, sub!reader, hints at unprotected p in v sex, breeding kink, mentions of choking kink, phone sex, dirty talk, coming untouched (?), fluff, no y/n but it's from your pov

A/n: I decided to take the old post down and post it AGAIN because no matter what I'm doing, Tumblr refuses to let my fics appear in the tags. It's pissing me off because I worked hard on this and I actually want people to read it, so I'm trying this again.

I wrote this in two hours – I'm that fucking horny. That’s why there might be several errors here, but idc. Also, I think it's fucking amazing that such vibrators exist (I found that out totally on accident and now I can't wait to meet my s/o and try it out with them). Matt Murdock and remote vibrators? Yes, please. It's not a want it's a need. So I wrote this and well, I kind of like it. It's already been posted on ao3 and oh what a wonder, you can actually find it there! Anyway, the thought of Matt buying us a remote vibrator for long-distance phone sex has my mind going all sorts of crazy. Hope you enjoy!

This is too long to be considered a drabble but it's also missing a lot of detail, so it's a non-drabble drabble.

18+ MINORS DNI!

You're not so sure how you got here.

One moment, you’re kissing your boyfriend goodbye at the airport before he goes on a business trip to Los Angeles, the next you’re holding a small gift-wrapped package he placed under the mattress with a bow as he tells you over the phone to, “Open it.”

You have no idea how you got here, but at the same time, you know exactly how. This always happens. He always finds a way to play even when he’s not home with you. He doesn’t need to be close to make you lose your mind. 

So when you toy with the bow and he can clearly hear the hesitation in your movements, he uses more force to tell you again, “Open it, angel. It won’t bite.”

Unless you want it to - you’re hoping it’s not jewelry. You love it when he makes expensive gifts he can barely afford, even with his law firm picking up more wealthy clients willing to pay generous amounts for a good criminal defense, but not tonight. Tonight, you want something else. You want something that can be gift-wrapped, but not over such a vast distance. You want to unwrap something else, feel something else and have someone else in bed with you. 

Eventually, you get the bow open and free the object within the long box from its confines. You swallow. His gift is long and made out of silicone, and it’s thick but not nearly as wide as him. There are three buttons instead of just one and the one underneath the obvious on-button looks like a thermometer. You feel the urge to press it, but you stop yourself. He hasn’t told you to play with it yet, only to unwrap it, and you did. 

“Matthew,” you whisper. It’s almost a warning as much as it is a thank you. 

The phone is on speaker so he can hear every little sound and you can hear him, though with your normal, human senses it’s a little less intense. 

He chuckles and the sound shoots right to your core, the vibrator trembling in your hands; the toy isn’t even on yet, but the prospect of what it can do and might entail turns you on beyond compare. 

Phone sex with Matt has always been intense. Whenever he went away, he made sure that the two of you would have time to get some much-needed intimacy. He loves listening to every sound you make, no matter how pathetic, and the way you respond to the sound of his voice alone has him coming faster than usual. Not to mention he can pour out his filthiest dirty talk right into your ear and since you can’t see him, it’s just his voice that has you on the edge in minutes, and he feels so incredibly proud of himself whenever you would moan his name in ecstasy. He often considered recording those phone sessions to listen back on at a later, much more desperate time, but he’s afraid that if he did that, he might never be able to stop. 

“You like it?” his smug voice climbs through the fog that has taken over your mind. 

You nod and he senses it, he always does, even hundreds of miles away and with a phone in between the two of you. He has complete control over you and no one knows you and your body better than he does. 

Matt thrives off of it. he thrives off of being the only one who can make you come like that, the only one who can push your buttons so precisely and in just the right spot that it makes you cry out. But most importantly, he thrives off the love he has for you. The love you have for him sustains him, but he lives for you and so loving you is truly the best thing that could have happened to him. And whenever you tell him those three magical words, he wants to combust. He’s never been happier than with you. 

You set the package aside, scooting up the mattress until your back hits the headboard. The apartment is so empty without him, but you can hear his breathing on the other end of the line and it makes you feel less alone. The darkness sends shivers down your spine and goosebumps all over your skin. 

“What does it do?” you dare to ask. 

Matt chuckles again. “What doesn’t it do?”

“Matthew.”

“Take a closer look, sweetheart,” is all he responds to your threatening tone, “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

God, his voice sounds so sexy when it’s all breathy and needy for you. He’s lowering his voice just for you, just to make you feel everything you want and need to feel. And he’s so in love he could die from the intensity.

Following his command, you look at the burgundy vibrator again, shaped like a dick in all the right places, thick in girth and length, but coming nowhere close to what Matt hides under his everyday clothing - and what most possibly lies in his hand right now, hard and throbbing for more. 

Your finger traces over the thermometer symbol, the on-button, and whatever the third button could be for. “It heats up,” you state, and your voice sounds just a little surprised while also sparked with intrigue. 

“That’s right,” he says. 

“And it turns on, obviously, but what’s the third button for?”

You hear a click on the other side. He must have moved his phone from the bedside table into his hand. He sounds so much closer now. 

Mat shifts in his hotel bed. “Take your phone.”

“Okay.” You follow without questioning his intentions. He knows what he’s doing. 

“I downloaded an app.”

“You did what now?”

“Yeah, when you were sleeping before I left. I downloaded an app. Open it,” he says. 

Part of you wants to ask why he would download an app on your phone, but you remind yourself that there is a very pleasing surprise waiting in your hand for you and he only wants to prolong the pleasure. So you comply. 

You reach the last page, skimming over the different apps until you find one you don’t recognize. 

Oh.

Oh.

“Jesus, Matt,” your curse out when you open it and find the first page staring back at you, the lighting setting already turned all the way down so as not to distract you with its blue light. 

“Do you like it?” he asks again. 

He knows you do. 

“It’s with remote control. How did you-”

“I heard about it while I was out the other night. Some couple down the street talked about how this particular model has a long-distance function and I thought, what could be better than finally being able to properly control your orgasms over the distance?”

“Fuck!”

“And you wanna know what’s even better?”

“What?” you ask, swiping to view the different settings. 

What could be better than this?

One press of a button and he could draw his fingers on the screen in a pattern that would have you shaking. He could control your pleasure with his phone alone. The vibrations would be completely in his hands, not yours, and all the while he would whisper the filthiest things into your ear until it would feel as if he was truly there with you. 

It’s so exciting, you rub your thighs together, slowly starting to open the knot of your bathrobe to get some more space to breathe. The room only seems to grow hotter. 

Another click on the other end and then he says, “I have one too.”

You’re unaware of how you got here, but you’re most certainly not going to complain. 

Both vibrators are connected, so while Matt plays with your pussy like a fiddle, you can do whatever you want with him. It’s a ring, he tells you, and he puts it on. You can hear him do it, you listen to his every breath and silent groan, rubbing your thighs together again. 

The bathrobe slips open. You undress for him. He doesn’t have to tell you, you know what you have to do. 

“Are you naked?” he asks. 

You nod your head, “Yes.”

“Good.”

“Are you?” you retort. 

Matt chuckles into your ear from where you placed the phone on the pillow. “I am,” he says. 

“Good.”

“Here’s what we’re going to do: You’re going to take the vibrator and turn it on. Can you do that for me, angel?”

You can and you do. 

“Good girl,” his praise goes straight to your cunt, “Now, I want you to use your free hand to touch your breasts, and give your hard nipples some much-needed attention. Don’t hold back, baby. Do whatever makes you feel good.”

“Okay,” you barely manage to choke out. 

“And while you’re busy doing that, I want you to use the other to place the vibrator on your clit.”

“Fuck, Matthew!”

“That’s right, moan my name. I’m going to teach you how to scream it very soon.”

You have no idea how you got here. 

The vibrator is so deep inside of your tight pussy now, you can feel it resting right against your g-spot, and the stimulator attached to the toy has its tip pressed tightly against your aching clit. He got you so wet so quickly, one hand on your breast and the other using the vibrations of the vibrator to you all wet. 

The setting he’s using can only be described as cruel. You’re sure he’s just playing around, using his finger to stroke up and down not only the speed button on his phone screen but his cock as well.

You really don’t know how you got here, but it feels too damn good to stop and question the series of events that lead you here, to him. 

His name is a mantra embedded in your brain. “Matthew,” you’re moaning and writhing and he can hear everything. 

Your hands clutch the sheets and your back arches. The vibrator pulsates, then slows down only to pick up the pace again. He keeps doing that until you’re crying, overstimulated, and on the edge of an orgasm that felt the most intense it had ever been. 

But you reap what you sow and so Matt gets back just exactly what he’s giving you. You find your phone again, interrupting the constant vibrations of his own toy, and changing the setting. If you have to suffer, he might as well join you. 

It’s filthy, the things you’re doing and what you’re saying. You should feel bad for fucking yourself on a vibrator controlled by your boyfriend and waking the neighbors with your obscene sounds, but in the bliss of pleasure, you couldn’t care less about what the people in the building have to say about you. 

You both need this so damn much. 

He grunts on the other end and that tells you he is getting close too, so you slow down the vibrations and match them to your own, moving your fingers in the same rhythm he does. 

“Angel,” he breathes and your name follows suit. He’s a mess and he’s so needy, his cock throbs hard. All he wants to do is come, preferably in you, and fill you with his release until you’re fucking overflowing and well-bred, but he can’t. He wants to fuck you through this intense orgasm as your pussy flutters and shakes around him. He wants to hear how wet you are, feel your tears, and choke your pretty little neck until you’re coming all over him. He doesn’t care if it gets messy, he just wants you, and as he fists himself along to the vibrations you torture his red, weeping cock with the vibrating ring at the base, he imagines it’s your hand, your mouth, your fucking pussy that’s making him feel so good. 

And he knows you’re imagining his cock, too. You’re imagining him driving in and out of you, twitching and pushing into your g-spot expertly. In your head, he has you pinned down with a hand around your throat, the other rubbing your clit vigorously and at a torturous pace as you inch closer and closer to your climax. He has your legs thrown over his shoulder, or he just holds you close, chest to chest as he fucks into you relentlessly. Perhaps he’s even turning you over now, forcing you to get to your hands and knees and pounding into your tight, used hole. You can only imagine the sting of his hand on your ass, the hand in his hair as he hauls you back and kisses you passionately, making you feel his love and his cock at the same time, and once he touches your neck you would come hard around him, screaming or speechless, whatever mood you are in at the moment, and he’d follow suit, spurting his hot cum into your pussy. It’s lewd, it’s foolish and a lot could go wrong with protecting, but you don’t care anymore. If that man wants to fuck his babies into you, God knows you would do it for him. In the heat of the moment, you think so, at least, because you agreed you aren’t ready for children yet and wouldn’t be for some time, but having Matt Murdock fuck his seed into your cunt as it spasms around his thick cock, marking and breeding you like a toy does things to you. He’s so rough while also being the gentlest when holding you as you come, whispering praises, and kissing you. 

God, you are so close. You’re not sure how much more you can take.

He groans. “Just a little more,” he tells you. “Don’t come yet. Wait for my permission, sweetheart. Be a good girl for me.”

Matt turns down the vibrator only so much that your orgasm washes away, the wave disappearing, and adding to the tsunami that is waiting to hit home. 

You whine, grabbing the sheets. 

“Are you thinking about me? About how my cock would feel inside of you? ‘Cause I’m thinking about you,” he says. “I’m thinking about your tits bouncing whenever I thrust inside of you and the feel of your click cunt taking me so well, making all kinds of sounds that have me wanting to suck on those beautiful lips of yours for days on end. God, you have no idea how much I want you right now. Turn the heat on.”

That’s the one thing he can’t control.

“I want you to feel like it is my dick inside of you, baby.”

“But you’re so much bigger,” you argue, even amid your pleasure. 

He chuckles. “I know I am.”

The heat does things to you. It relaxes your walls and allows the vibrator to push even deeper until it’s buried to the hilt. Only then does the accelerate the vibrations again. Together with the heat, your legs are soon shaking and your walls clench, holding the orgasm right there. You don’t have permission, but you need to come. You need to come now or you would make him very unhappy. 

“N’ugh, please, Matthew. I’m so close. So fucking close.”

“I know,” he purrs. 

“Come with me,” you plead and once you put the vibrations of his ring on full intensity, his moans grow louder and he’s shaking, whimpering even, and his voice cracks. 

He reaches for the phone and almost doesn’t make it to tell you, “Come,” before your bubble bursts, the knot releases, and all the pressure on your cunt evaporates with the most intense orgasm he could have possibly pulled out of you. 

Once again, you have no idea how you got here. Legs shaking, cheeks wet with tears, the sheets soaked with your wet cum as your cunt and clit twitch. It’s swollen and aching between your legs, like your folds and everything else. Your nipples are so sensitive, you have to ease the hand that holds them. You’re trembling, but only in the ways that are so fucking good. 

For minutes, you don’t know how long, and none of you speak. Only heavy breathing fills the phone line. The vibrators have long stopped producing sounds as you shut them off, though you are far too gone to pull it out. It fills you like Matt’s cock would, and you want to keep the image alive for a little longer, feel him in and on you even if he can’t be there to hold you. You can’t keep his cock warm, but you can pretend, only for a moment. 

You break the silence first. “Matt?” you ask into the night. 

He hums on the other side. 

“When are you coming home?”

Your voice is vulnerable and honest, and he sighs. He doesn’t want to hurt you, doesn’t want to disappoint you, and he doesn’t want to stay and work on that godforsaken case any longer either. It’s over, he can go home. He wants to go home. If he has to hand off his caseload to someone else, Jennifer Walters maybe, he would if it meant he could get to see you sooner than planned. One more day, he swears, and then he would take the earliest flight back home to you. 

“Soon,” he answers. “I’ll be home soon, sweetheart.”

He still doesn’t quite know what he did to deserve you. The more important it is to him to make you unconditionally happy. He doesn’t want you to leave, doesn’t want to lose you, he just wants you in his arms for the rest of his life. 

“You’re the love of my life,” he continues long after you’ve fallen asleep to the sound of his voice, cleaned up and tired from your shared activities. “I will always come back home to you,” he says. “I promise.”

Though he decides that this time, as soon as he’s home, he will ease the weight dragging down the inside of his suit jacket every time he’s with you, he’s never dared to ask you before. Too much of a coward to stand up and speak now, to ask you to stay forever and have a family with him. He wants you, no one else, and he’s determined to prove it to you this time. He doesn’t want to be apart from you any longer. It’s torture, the torture he has to end soon because it’s not just hurting him, it is hurting you too. 

You’re not sure how you got here, but with Matt Murdock planning to ask you to marry him, it doesn’t matter why certain things happen a certain way. They just do and it’s perfect that way. 

[melis-writes]

Mafia Wife [Sonny Corleone x Reader Multichapter, 18+ Smut] Chapter 1 – La Famiglia Giordano.

Read on AO3 / Chapter Masterlist.

18+, explicit smut read.

“You wanted to name our first-born daughter Gabriella.” / “You’re Gabriella, aren’t you?”

“The underboss’s wife”; that’s who you are, and the whispers of enemies, family and colleagues alike know it too. You’re no stranger to the underworld of crime surrounding you including the one run by the Corleone family’s underboss; Santino Corleone. The streets run red with blood and brutality under Santino’s influence but it’s Santino who feels hit by the thunderbolt at the very sight of you—pushing away his womanizing and notorious unfaithfulness. You unexpectedly find yourself in a position of power balancing your marriage with the fate of the Corleone’s family’s future whether it be through Santino’s infamous brutality or the love he finds amidst the man he claims to be.

[WARNINGS]: Mentions of violence & death / Alcohol use / Pregnancy / Childbirth.

[AUTHOR'S NOTE]: The very first chapter of my Sonny Corleone x Reader fic is FINALLY here!! 🥰✨ Thank you guys SO much for all of the endless support and love this fic received when it was just an idea and barely typed out! I'm so glad to finally have it up. By far the most exhausting and longest part of the fic process is planning a brand new one for me, and I had definitely been much busier than usual when planning out/writing this fic which is why it took so long to write. I had to give something for the Santino girlies as I'm one myself!! 👀❤️ Please read ALL of the tags on this fic on AO3 before diving into the chapters as it'll give you a good understanding as to what the entire fic and chapters will be like. This goes for ALL fics I write! The tags are there for a reason. This fic is also 18+ only, just like all of my other works forever and always. This is meant for adults to read only. ✋🏻

Chapter 1: La Famiglia Giordano.

[ Barzini Family Estate, 1948 ]

“Nobody wants another war,” Don Barzini states, watching the ice soaking in his glass of whiskey. “Nobody wanted another war; isn’t that how it always goes?”

Don Tattaglia gives his head a shake, relaxing in the leather armchair he sits across from Barzini. “We have Sollozzo to thank for all of that.”

Having an otherwise civil discussion between two closely allied business partners and old friends, the bond Don Barzini and Don Tattaglia’s family share has been stronger than ever since Sollozzo. 

Despite successfully allying together against the Corleones throughout the Five Families War and coming together for talk over business, neither Barzini nor Tattaglia can ignore the air of tension that’s formed between them now. 

Barzini can easily tell Tattaglia is unnerved as he sips his whiskey again, savoring the smokey notes of the liquid over his tongue while noticing how Tattaglia is nearly chugging back his drink.

“You’re tense,” Barzini comments, somewhat surprised by Tattaglia’s behavior. “Are you going to tell me what’s on your mind or not?”

“How can I not be?” Tattaglia swallows down his drink. 

“You’re looking at all of this the wrong way, my friend,” Barzini gives a reassuring smile. “You’re on the winning side. The Godfather has no leverage over either of our families or—”

“Vito Corleone isn’t my concern,” Tattaglia interrupts.

“Hmm,” Barzini pauses, taking a sip of his drink again. “Then that’s a first.”

“It’s his son,” Tattaglia adds.

“Which one?” Barzini rolls his eyes. “They’re all equally useless in their own ways.”

Tattalia opens his mouth to answer before pausing for a moment; a look of absolute defeat crosses his expression, forming into regret, then helplessness. “Does the name ‘Gabriella’ ring a bell to you?”

Barzini raises a curious brow. “Maybe. Should it? Does The Godfather have another daughter we don’t know about?”

“He has a daughter-in-law,” Tattaglia answers, “Gabriella Corleone. She’s the daughter of Francesco Giordano.”

Barzini tenses for a moment, no longer focusing on his whiskey. “I… I see.”

“You know Gabriella then?” Tattagia asks back.

“Not personally, but her name was spoken often in my household. Was,” Barzini emphasizes. 

Tattaglia sighs softly, giving his head a shake.

“Emilio wanted to marry her,” Barzini continues, mentioning his eldest son. “He spoke of Gabriella fondly and often, but she refused him and his advances. Now you’re telling me she’s part of the Corleone family?”

“Francesco did well hiding the news from us for the most part,” Tattaglia points out. “Everyone else must have known.”

“No, no,” Barzini shakes his head, refusing. “I don’t think of it in that way. Francesco is a dear friend. He doesn’t ‘hide’ things. He values the privacy he can give his family.”

“If you want to put it that way,” Tattaglia mumbles. “It’s none of our business, is it? She married Santino Corleone, the underboss.”

Barzini freezes in his seat, attempting to calm himself down internally as Tattaglia immediately picks up on Barzini’s shocked expression.

Tattaglia nods grimly, “do you know what you’ve done?”

“Don’t,” Barzini mutters softly, holding up his free hand. 

“She’s pregnant,” Tattaglia adds. “Do you even care? Do you know what’s going to happen now? To your investments? Your wealth? Your bank accounts with Giordano?”

Barzini suddenly lets go of his whiskey glass, watching as the glass shatters to pieces over the floor and the alcohol spills free onto the wood. 

Barzini covers his face with shame, feeling a knot of heavy emotions cause him to feel nauseous almost instantly with unimaginable guilt.

A heavy silence sits in the air between the two men for a minute as they ponder, having nothing else to say to each other. 

“I will apologize to Gabriella,” Barzini finally speaks, raising his head out of his hands.

“You can’t,” Tattaglia frowns. “You can’t do anything anymore.”

~

[ 1921 ]

“Gabriella… Little Gabriella.” You’re the first-born daughter in your family to four older brothers, and the eldest to your twin sister, born just forty minutes apart.

Although your mother went into labor knowing she’d welcome two children instead of one on June 19th, 1921, nothing could surpass the joy your mother and father felt when you were born.

Just as your four eldest brothers had been born, your mother gave birth to you and your twin sister Bella at home, surrounded by two Italian-American nurses from the community who had helped your mother through her previous deliveries.

Your parents weren’t sure what to expect when your mother realized she was pregnant with her fifth child since the last four children she gave birth to were all boys.

“Will it be another boy this time?” Your father chuckled and placed his hand over the top of your mother’s seven-month-old baby bump. “Perhaps two boys?”

“Oh, please,” your mother let out a laugh, “we have more than enough boys. I would love a daughter this time around. One boy and one girl, or twin girls even.”

“What a dream that would be,” your father grinned. “It seems like we’ve had all the luck in the world for having sons. No matter,” he leaned over, kissing your mother’s baby bump gently. “Boy or girl loved all the same. Spoiled like his or her other siblings. Only two this time…” He pulled away, looking up at your mother. “I can’t wait to meet them, darling.”

“Me too, sweetheart,” your mother blushed and laced both of her hands with your father’s. “Two more additions to the family. You know what I said when we first married? About baby names?”

“I do, mhmm,” your father nodded. “You wanted to name our first-born daughter Gabriella.”

“I do,” your mother smiled warmly. “I still do.”

“Of course. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl. I still remember,” he gave your mother’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “I hope this time we get to meet little Gabriella.”

“I hope so too, my love.”

Even before you were born, you were loved. The idea of you was loved, your name was loved, and everything and anything you could be from birth to adulthood to old age was loved. 

Nothing compared to how overwhelmed with joy your mother felt when she smiled up weakly at you, tears in her eyes from excruciating contractions hitting her again and again to see and hear one of the nurses declare, “it’s a girl!”

Before your mother went back into labor to give birth to your twin sister forty minutes later, she held you in her arms and cooed to you through her tears of happiness. “Gabriella… Gabriella...”

She kissed your cheeks wet with tears as your father let you hold his finger with your tiny hand, looking down upon you with so much love and happiness.

You were born into this world loved and welcomed just as your siblings were, and just as you would always be. 

Your twin sister and you were born to the Giordano family; a family that came from money which was no secret nor meant to be one.

Your father, Francesco Giordano, better known as “Frankie” by his friends and business partners, was born in Sicily, but your grandparents had already been living in and had immigrated to New York.

Your father came from a lengthy family history of educated individuals; spanning seven generations of university graduates and had graduated from Columbia University himself in 1912.

Your mother, Rosa nee De Luca, who was born in Long Island, New York to Sicilian parents, had met your father in that same year. 

Having many connections or even just one to a crime family served to be the best for anyone’s interests, even those who didn’t want to get “involved” indirectly or directly, and then there are always individuals who wouldn’t mind the close ties with the mafia so as long as they stray from direct intervention or get too close, could always reap the benefits of work connections by having powerful friends in powerful places.

Your father and his family practiced the same mantra as many others; don’t get too close to the mafia to avoid getting burned, by maintaining a healthy business relationship and community friendliness.

Since the days of your great-grandfather, your father inherited the ownership of several small banks that his family had started; serving the local community and operating for middle-class families with day-to-day funds, support for home ownership, and loans.

The success of your father’s family business in banking was steady and promising, working out very well to attract a clientele of all kinds from the Italian-American community in particular.

Your father built his business connections where your grandfather left off but also started new ones with the Italian community in the neighborhood and area as well as being involved with all of the crime families himself, but with some more than others.

Everyone, including the mafia, knows Frankie Giordano to be an honest businessman who makes a living to feed his family. Your father also happens to be smart and witty about it too.

Frankie Giordano built a name for himself without feeding off of his father’s legacy and thus deepened the trust and bond the Giordano family already had with the mafia when it came to loans and money laundering.

One could say your father always went to the bank laughing, and the mafia made sure of that for the excellent service rendered by the Giordano banks. 

Your father also knew that his future wife—your mother—would benefit greatly from that, and thus so would all of his and her children.

Your father had no intention of keeping the truth and ties of his business affairs from you, your twin sister Bella, or any of your brothers for that matter. He would only wait to tell you all in due time when you’d be mature enough to understand and process it.

Even if in the future and all grown up none of you were remotely interested in the booming world of business and finance, you’d at least benefit immensely from inheritance and the steady flow of wealth and investments.

Your father’s closest business partners were that of the Corleone and Tattaglia families, although the Barzini’s were getting close enough to join the list too.

Your family is protected from conflicting interests and possible hostilities between rival families because your father’s business is legal, public and there’s mutual respect and understanding of what your family’s banks provide with respect grandfathered in. 

Despite Frankie Giordano’s wealth and success, your father was never the type of man to flaunt or brag—just maintaining his work ethic with dedication like none other; traits you would indeed inherit from him.

In many ways, your father would see a lot of himself in you as you grew older, such as the fact you too could see light at the end of every tunnel and that you also valued family and morals over money and power.

Such traits and beliefs made your father a true family man under times of turmoil and stress, and it also helped you understand the world around you better.

Your father married your mother, Rosa, in 1914 after almost two years of courtship with no intention to push or rush their relationship for the sake of tying the knot quickly.

Your mother comes from a family of wealthy socialites who built upon their wealth by investing and simply being connected to the right people. 

Your parents met each other through a social outing when your mother’s family became all the more interested in investing in Giordano family banks.

“It’s one thing to believe in something such as love at first sight. Love can be so fickle, but when it happens to you, it changes you completely,” your mother had once told you.

The wit and cunning your mother showed growing up as a young woman were learned from family members around her and would no doubt pass on to you as well.

Through your mother, you also discovered your passion and love for art and botany, whereas your twin sister Bella felt the same and was more connected to architecture, nature, and the outdoors. 

When your parents settled down and planned to have a family of their own, your brothers, you, and your sister would come from and be born into a family of love and respect that could never be unbound.

You knew from a very young age early on that your parents loved each other very much, and although all couples disagree and have their fights, you still can’t recall a single moment where you heard your parents raise their voices at each other in front of you, let alone fight or argue in front of you and your siblings either.

Growing up, all you knew is you loved and wished for the same peace and calm love your parents shared.

You don’t want to be “madly” in love; you want a peaceful and understanding love—the kind your mother and father share with each other with the kind of expectations they lived through and passed onto you.

Everything you’ve learned about love was through your parents, and it set your heart’s wants and needs as a young woman.

Your mother, who is not easily impressed by just anything, had taught you to be the same and explore your options with all things when you were a teenager.

“What pleases the eye once may not do so the second time. The world is filled with options. Your heart will know what’s best for you.”

While your mother was eighteen years old when she married your father, she gave birth to your eldest brother—Luca—in 1915.

Right up until your mother’s maternity leave, she was a private art teacher in New York City who specialized in teaching about painting; classical, renaissance, religious, and abstract. 

Your mother would not return back to teaching part-time until 1936 when your sister Bella and you were about fifteen years old and the family could easily sustain and take care of itself throughout the day.

Your mother also preferred to teach part-time instead of full-time before she began to have children because she preferred to spend most of her time with the grandchildren she welcomed over the years.

Coming up to 1939, you and your sister were eligible bachelorettes in your family alongside one bachelor brother—Giani—but it would be you, the most eligible bachelorette considering your circumstances and your sister’s traveling abroad that would not only bring you upon him—Santino Corleone—but the Corleone family and their history with the Giordano’s in due time.

[ 1920, Hell’s Kitchen, New York ]

“There will never be come a day—” Francesco says, sketching out the outline of a small olive branch over a scrap piece of paper in front of him, “where they outlaw this, my friend. Never. The olive? They could not,” your father admires his sketch, darkening the two olives he drew hanging on the branch. “The olive provides too much—it does too much. You buy it from Vito Corleone—Genco Olive Oil—” he smiles up at Vito who returns the warm expression, popping a black olive in his mouth from the small platter in front of them.

“And you use it in your cooking,” your father continues, taking an olive and putting it in his mouth. “It’s too versatile, too much of a need for the average family to outlaw.”

“I can’t see any Italian family without a bottle in their home,” Vito chuckles quietly.

“Exactly,” your father points out, reaching into the drawer beneath him for a moment.

Vito glances over curiously, watching as Francesco pulls out a concealed bottle of unopened Jack Daniel’s whiskey before setting it on the front counter in front of him.

“You don’t have to worry about the repercussions of buying a bottle or whole barrel of olive oil. This though,” your father taps the back of his fingernails against the bottle of alcohol. “Is a crime. This bottle here.”

Vito raises a curious brow; amusement twinkling in his eyes as to how nonchalantly your father pulled out a bottle of unopened whiskey.

“My father’s favorite drink served on ice. Bought and sold everywhere, now it’s illegal,” Francesco chuckles, shaking his head. “Now, buying and selling alcohol is illegal. Just like that.”

“They could never expect to stop everyone from doing so,” Vito chimes in.

“Exactly, my friend,” your father begins to open up the bottle, grabbing two small glasses from the cupboard beneath the front counter at which he and Vito sit. “They never can, but they know they never could. I don’t know how much longer this silliness will last, but,” Francesco begins to pour Vito and himself a glass of whiskey, “there’s plenty more of where this came from. No questions asked, no eyebrows raised.”

A curious look crosses Vito’s eyes as he takes his glass of whiskey before glancing down at it. Naturally, he immediately begins to wonder how many bottles Francesco has, where he got them from, how he got them, and where they’ll go.

“You are the most resourceful friend I know,” Vito comments, “do I need to ask?”

“You can,” your father replies, knowing, of course, Vito’s curiosity is only normal and expected, “if we can come to an agreement first, my friend.”

Your father was the first man to lend Vito Corleone money; give him his first full loan just by knowing his full name and without any interest.

Your father gave Vito a chance—one of his first chances—without even knowing it, and through such a chance came one lucrative business opportunity after another.

If your father and Vito were involved in something, then it meant there was plenty of money to be made under the table without asking questions and with no risk of getting caught.

Whether your father and Vito formally acknowledged it or not, they were a duo of sorts.

Your father trusted Vito while knowing Vito was indeed settling the roots of his one crime family just as the other mafia families in New York were.

Your father didn’t care about Vito’s involvement in crime or anything of the sort; your father was and is a banker by trade and name, and money always talked.

With prohibition starting in 1920 with a surplus of alcohol to be smuggled from your father’s contacts in Canada, there was nothing but profit to be made from the business for however long prohibition would last.

Securing and solidifying a strong friendship already, the prohibition era would make both your family and Vito’s very wealthy from the moment Vito smiled and shook your father’s hand in agreement, knowing all the same.

That was hardly the beginning of the Giordano and Corleone family’s friendship and ties with one another.

That same year, Vito Corleone would kill Don Fanucci.

Despite the concept being thought of by everyone who had the misfortune to know Fanucci, many didn’t believe Fanucci would be outright killed.

It was merely something men fantasized about to set themselves free of the financial obligations Fanucci put forward and fears they would be killed, extorted, go missing, or worse.

Taking Fanucci out was a fantasy, nobody could do it except for Vito Corleone.

If it was anyone your father had faith in to stand up to a brutish man like Fanucci, it was Vito Corleone, but your father also didn’t expect Vito to murder Fanucci the way he did and so soon.

On that fateful day, your father was closing up his main bank’s branch for the day; having put up the “closed” sign on the front door and lowered the blinds more than halfway down.

He had not yet locked the front door since he was up at the front anyway, and your father would be able to see anyone coming to approach the bank’s entrance before they could even think of trying the door.

At that time, your father was counting some of the spare change in one of the last drawers quietly, noting that it was 5:30 PM and rush hour had fully kicked in.

Humming quietly to himself, Francesco put the spare change in his pocket before closing up the cash register and locking it with his key.

Only for a moment did your father look up to see the faint figure of a passerby without paying too much attention to it.

In a few moments from now, Francesco would lock up the bank and head home; your mother was expecting him with a hot meal on the table and she was pregnant with you and your twin sister Bella at the time.

In a good mood and having enjoyed his work day, your father slowly began to stop humming upon hearing footsteps from that same figure grow closer to the bank’s front door.

Your father knew it wasn’t someone out strolling or wandering, but rather approaching the bank directly and standing in front of the door.

Your father kept his hand over his pistol carefully concealed underneath an old polishing rag on the front counter while watching the figure’s movements by the door.

It was then that Francesco noticed who the figure was, seeing no cause for panic or alarm.

It was Peter Clemenza, and he was revealing himself to your father to avoid a bullet in between the eyes at this hour.

Clemenza lifted up the “closed” sign in front of the door and peeked his head in; urgency in his eyes and beckoning with his hands to be let in.

Your father moved his hand away from the pistol and gestured for Clemenza to enter since the door wasn’t locked.

Sighing in relief, Clemenza quickly entered and shut the door behind him instantly, wasting no time.

Your father could easily tell Clemenza was alarmed but didn’t have a look on his face that spelled it was his problem.

Before your father could barely blink or open his mouth to ask Clemenza what was going on, Clemenza immediately stated, “Fanucci is dead.”

Your father stared back at him in shock, pausing for a moment to take everything in. “What? Dead?”

“Dead,” Clemenza confirms, locking the bank door and taking off his fedora. “I came over here as fast as I could to tell you.”

“Who else knows?” Francesco asked quietly.

“Roth, Genco, and Tessio so far,” Clemenza answered, catching his breath. “This is gonna send fuckin’ shockwaves throughout the neighborhood.”

“My God,” your father muttered under his breath, smoothening out the sides of his slicked-back hair. “And Vito? Does Vito know yet?”

Clemenza chuckles, shaking his head. “Who do you think did it, Frankie? Vito killed Fanucci. Shot that son of a bitch right in his own apartment. Don’t worry—“ He holds up a hand, “Vito handled everything.”

“Does he need anything?” Your father offered, stepping out from behind the front counter.

“Yeah, but I have a feeling you already know what,” Clemenza shrugged his shoulders. “That bastard Fanucci took half of our dime each and every time. He still dealt with your bank, right?”

“He has an account here,” Francesco nodded.

“Good,” Clemenza put his fedora back on, adjusting it. “Because everything in Fanucci’s account needs to all go to Vito now.”

It was true that Fanucci’s death, it now meant his money and assets held at the Giordano banks had to go somewhere, and your father couldn’t agree more to it going straight to Vito.

Fanucci had been stingy and extra hard on Vito over anyone, despite Vito being understanding and gentle to counter each and every time.

Still, Fanucci took hundreds of dollars worth of cuts from Vito’s pay every single time and still threatened to have him killed at the same time.

Francesco had no pity whatsoever towards Fanucci or his family, and if Vito was going to be the one taking back the money Fanucci stole from him and everyone else, then your father would agree to let it happen.

After all, Francesco knew Vito Corleone wasn’t the kind of man to take all that money and spend it on himself.

Vito proved your father’s beliefs about the security of Fanucci’s money and assets being transferred to Vito’s accounts when he saw for himself how Vito spread the money back into the Italian-American community and only taking the exact fair share that he kept track of since Fanucci began taking it.

Afterward, Francesco closed down Fanucci’s account at his bank and erased all existence and history of it, so if the police came around to ask questions, there wouldn’t be a single answer available.

Having Fanucci killed wasn’t something your father expected to happen in 1920—not while prohibition was still ongoing—and by Vito Corleone’s hand, nonetheless.

At the time, the only exciting news for Francesco Giordano was that he was expecting his wife to give birth to twin babies in the upcoming year.

~

In 1921, you and your twin sister Gabriella were born.

Your family did not live in stress due to any direct involvement in mafia affairs or had any fears to worry about what the mafia and those associated with its lifestyle of crime were doing.

Nothing stopped your family from continuing to live out their lives as normal, peaceful, and lawful with the police and government as many see fit despite what your father had known, seen, and been involved with in the past year.

Your father promised himself that he would never do or say anything to jeopardize the safety and happiness of his family nor put his family in any situation where they would live in fear and become potential targets to anyone or anything.

After all, your father had been expecting the birth of you and your baby sister—experiencing fatherhood all over again and surprisingly to two daughters this time.

Nothing else needed to get in the way of Francesco Giordano when he was welcoming two little babies to his family. Nothing to stress out his wife either and Francesco made certain of this.

It was on June 19th, 1921 that your mother, Rosa, went into labor in the comfort of her own home for six hours to give birth to you and your twin sister.

The same nurses who helped your mother give birth to your brothers were at your mother’s side again as your father also sat with her and held your mother’s hand for comfort—wiping the sweat off of her forehead and making soft conversation.

Everyone involved kept Rosa as comfortable as they best could, remaining vigilant in observation and getting Rosa anything she may need.

“Ti amo,” (I love you) your father whispered in your mother’s ear. “Sei una donna forte e ce la farai.” (You’re a strong woman and you’re going to get through this.)

Your mother’s strength thick and thin always had your father in awe, and your father never left your mother’s side throughout the six hours of tedious and agonizing labor.

Neither of your parents will ever forget the overwhelming joy and excitement they felt hearing the nurse announce, “it’s a girl!” for the first time as your mother gave birth to you.

Your mother smiled throughout her tears as she reached out to hold you and your father teared up too, seeing that he now had a baby daughter.

Sobbing from nothing but happiness and relief, your mother held your tiny self in her arms for a few moments before her body would prepare again to give birth to your twin sister Bella in the next forty minutes.

“Gabriella, Gabriella…” Your father cooed softly, attempting to soothe you as you cried out in your mother’s arms. “Welcome to the world, my beautiful girl.”

If it was a shock to have a daughter after giving birth to so many little boys, the ultimate surprise was your parents realizing that they were having two daughters.

So many happy tears and laughter were shared in that room, relief washing over everyone and the exhaustion of labor beginning to kick in.

Your family welcomed you and your twin sister Bella to the world in 1921, and your mother and father held both you and Bella in their arms, whispering promises that they would love and protect you both no matter what; that they’d do anything to give you and your siblings a good life.

Your eldest brother, Luca, who was five years old at the time was ecstatic, as were four-year-old Romeo, Casio, and little Giani to welcome two baby sisters.

Truly, it was one of the happiest moments of your mother and father’s lives.

~

In 1922 as you and Bella were just little babies growing up, one thing had become all the more apparent to all men who lived in Long Island—particularly the Italian community and the one in Hell’s Kitchen too.

Crime families at this time had bonded and grown stronger with all the more influence now. They were too powerful to be considered Fanucci wannabees as they could no longer be reckoned with alone.

Such power and influence amidst crime families brought business and organization, but that also meant rampant crime and fear even if it was not always noticeable.

One had to be careful dealing with crime families for whatever reasons since rivalry, although relatively uncommon at the time did exist and caused enough trouble.

Your father was only allied with and close friends with Vito and the Corleone family at the time, so no rivalry concerned him.

“Let me know if you need anything else, my friend,” Francesco said, patting Vito’s shoulder. “I can find a way to get funds to you in Sicily in less than two days if needed.”

“I will be fine, Frankie. Thank you,” Vito chuckled and smiled at your father. “I’m very grateful and appreciative for all the help you’ve provided my family and me.”

“You know I can say the same to you,” Francesco nodded back. “I’m too used to seeing you down these neighborhoods. You’ll be missed, Vito Corleone, but this trip is just what you need, isn’t it? For family and for peace.”

“Exactly,” Vito reaffirmed, “I won’t put it off longer than I need to. Don Ciccio is a withered old man now but he doesn’t deserve to die from something so merciful such as old age.”

“I agree,” Francesco replied. “He is a vile and sick man obsessed with power. He always has been. Maybe once he’s finally out of the picture, the rest of us can peacefully return to Sicily for a family trip as we wish to.”

“Many have said the same to me before,” Vito frowned. “I doubt Ciccio will remember me, but that is exactly what I will use to my advantage. It didn’t have to be this way, but…” Vito stroked his chin, “I lost my entire family to that foul man.”

“You don’t need to justify it to me or anyone else, Vito,” Francesco shook his head. “His death is in your hands now. You know I would come to aid you if I could. Either way, I support you.”

“I know you would, my friend, which is why we must part ways for now,” warmth flickered in Vito’s eyes. I can’t do this to you; you just had your little girls and they need their father with them more than ever.”

“So as long as they get to see their godfather soon again,” your father grinned. “Rosa is expecting you and Carmela all ready for dinner. Mrs. Corleone is expecting now too, is she not?”

“Indeed,” Vito beamed. “And we are taking little Michael to Sicily for this time on this trip.”

At that time, Carmela Corleone was pregnant with her first and only daughter, Constanzia.

“Ah, little Michael,” your father’s eyes lit up. “No naughtiness from the little man, I hope?”

“He’s a good, quiet young man,” Vito let out a soft laugh. “This trip will give him more stories to listen to about Sicily since he won’t remember it when he’s older.”

“Of course,” your father smiled, “just keep that fiery Santino by your side.”

“Carmela says the same,” Vito pointed out. “Don’t worry, I will. He’s a good boy too, I promise, although he could benefit from learning more manners.”

“Can’t we all?” Laughing, the two men shared a farewell hug.

“Be careful and be well, Vito,” your father cautioned. “Enemies may still be lurking in Sicily, looking for you, especially if you seek revenge.”

“It’ll be as if I wasn’t even there.”

~

[ 1939, Present Day ]

The first to welcome their first children into the Corleone family with Carmela and Vito Corleone excited to welcome a grandchild are Tom and Theresa Hagen; expecting their first baby early next year.

It’s no surprise that at first all eyes were on Santino—the eldest son of the Corleone family—to settle down and start a family first instead of Tom or anyone else, despite Tom being the same age—twenty three.

The only difference between the two men in terms of settling down to have a family was that Tom is in love with an investing in his love life and marriage with Theresa, an American woman, whereas Sonny hardly knows what “settling down” means.

It’s only in Sonny’s best interest to switch from one woman to another, a one nightstand again and again with no care as to how others may see Sonny to be very promiscuous with no shame or intent to stop sleeping around to even think about marrying someone.

Celebrating the baby shower for Tom and Theresa planned today, the nature of the event to both Tom and Theresa is private and intimate, hence their invitations only being sent out to the closest friends of the Corleone family.

Only the Giordano’s, Barzini’s and Cuneo’s are invited today with the vast majority of the women helping with the cooking back inside and the men upstairs in Don Corleone’s office.

Despite the family history with the Giordano’s, this is the first time you’re attending a Corleone family event and the very first time you’ll be visiting the Corleone estate.

Your father and brothers have visited the Corleone’s numerous times previously and know them better than any other business partner or friend, but neither you nor Bella have had the opportunity to yourselves.

Bella is more than halfway through her first semester at the Academy of Fine Arts in Vienna however, leaving you to be the only woman of the family next to your mother.

With the baby shower celebrations ongoing this afternoon in the courtyard of the Corleone estate to enjoy the fresh spring air and sun, men seeing Vito Corleone inside present Don Corleone with gifts meant for the expecting couple out of respect first.

Connie carefully balances one gift box over another by a table reserved just for baby shower gifts, making sure the presents don’t topple over one another from solely the sheer number of how many there are.

Arriving just five minutes after your father and brother, your chauffer passes clearance at the main gates of the Corleone estate before slowly beginning to park inside.

Your father and brothers have joined Barzini and Cuneo’s sons upstairs in Vito’s office where Sonny, Tom and Fredo also remain, but Michael—the youngest son of the Corleone family—is away at Dartmouth College for study.

Once the topic at hand ends in Vito’s office, Tom will come back out to the courtyard to thank and meet all the guests at the baby shower himself.

The rest of the men are not expected to in order to keep a low profile and spend as much time discussing business with Don Corleone as possible.

The only Corleone family member you know personally is Carmella and you’ve enjoyed every bit of time you’ve gotten to spend with her in the past when Carmela came to visit and bake desserts with you and your mother from time to time.

You know you’ll be meeting Theresa—the one expecting—and Connie Corleone as well for the first time.

“Benvenuti, miei cari!” (Welcome, my darlings!) Carmela happily blurts as she rushes down to the gates to greet you and your mother the moment you two step out of the vehicle.

“Carmela!” Your mother beams, pulling her into a warm hug. “Come stai dolcezza? È da parecchio tempo!” (How are you, honey? It’s been so long!)

“Yes, it has!” Carmela lets out a soft laugh before she cups your cheeks gently. “È passato tanto tempo perché guarda Gabriella! Adesso è diventata una bellissima giovane donna!” (It has been so long because look at Gabriella! She's all grown up now into a beautiful young woman!)

“Hi, Mama Corleone,” you giggle back, giving her a hug. “It’s so good to see you again.”

“And you as well, honey—mwah,” Carmela kisses both of your cheeks again, “she’s grown up to be such a beauty, hasn’t she?”

“Very much so,” your mother happily agrees. “And I’m excited for her to meet your girls!”

“As am I!” Carmela gestures excitedly, “come on in, ladies. All the men are already inside seeing Vito, I doubt they’ll even bother to come step out but in any case—that doesn’t matter. We’re all very excited for Theresa expecting her little one soon!”

“How far along is she?” You ask, walking into the Corleone estate grounds with your mother and Carmela.

“She’s about seven months pregnant now,” Carmela answers. “I can’t wait to introduce you to her. I know all you lovely ladies will get along just fine!”

Before you can say anything else, you step into the Corleone estate’s courtyard with Carmela and your mother to be hit with awe from the beauty of the estate surrounding you.

A gazebo stands in the further end of the courtyard with the manor itself built in a classic American style but with small details to Italian architecture.

The courtyard in which you stand in is surrounded by a blossoming garden, spotless and filled with ample enough space to host over four hundred people comfortably.

“So beautiful,” you murmur in surprise; momentarily turning back to see your chauffer placing the carefully wrapped giftboxes filled with the presents your mother and you chose for the baby shower by the table with the other gifts.

For your baby shower gift to Tom and Theresa, you picked out an abundance of cotton diapers, two bibs, three different pacifiers and a baby mat. 

As your mother and Mama Corleone are lost in conversation, you look up to see a heavily pregnant woman—Theresa—rise up from her seat at her table with  her hand over her baby bump.

Petite frame, blonde with bright eyes and American, Theresa’s eyes land on you as another woman approaches her by her side—a Sicilian—who looks like a striking combination of Carmela and Vito combined.

You assume this must be Connie—the only daughter of the Corleone family that your mother and Mama Corleone lead you up to now for introductions.

“Here is our lovely Theresa!” Carmela gestures to the pregnant young woman. “Seven months in with her little one already. Theresa, this is the daughter of my best friend, Gabriella. Her family is from Sicily too.”

“Hello,” Theresa shyly reaches out her hand to you. “It’s nice to meet you, Gabriella.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Theresa,” you give her a polite smile, shaking her hand back. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you!” Theresa’s eyes light up.

“And this is my daughter, Connie,” Carmela introduces Connie to you next, and you immediately notice Connie is much less shyer than her sister-in-law Theresa with a sparkle of excitement in her eyes from being introduced to you.

“Hi Gabriella,” Connie grins, “are you the only daughter in your family too?”

“Not exactly,” you let out a laugh, “I have a twin sister but she’s studying abroad.”

“Ah, lucky you! I’m the only sister,” Connie gives your hand a warm squeeze.

“I know what it’s like to grow up with many brothers around you, trust me,” you giggle back, knowing from what your mother told you that the Corleone’s are almost just as big of a family as yours and with many sons.

“Tell me about it,” Connie holds back her laughter and it immediately strikes you that Connie appears to be type of woman you can easily get along with and make the best of friends with her.

Just as warm, loving and trusting as Connie seems, you also can’t push past or ignore how you pick up an explainable kind of yearning sadness behind Connie’s eyes too.

Just as you’re thinking, Connie’s yearning to make a friend with someone like you and knowing she can easily be able to do so considering how close your families are; both of you around the same age and with familiar backgrounds.

Back inside Don Corleone’s office, greetings, congratulations and humble gift giving to Vito Corleone for Tom and Theresa’s baby shower has come to an end as Tom smiles to himself and keeps the stack of guests in the corner of Vito’s office and takes his seat again near his father.

A glass of richly aged bourbon is served for all of the men and Vito’s office door remains slightly ajar to help keep the air from getting stuffy from cigarette smoke.

“But the war,” Sonny begins, unamused, “it doesn’t mean too much for us, anyway.”

“Not at all,” your father says, shaking his head. “It’s a shame with all the bloodshed going on in Europe right now, but our interests remain the same and our assets here are protected.”

“We expect a prosperous new decade of us nonetheless,” Don Barzini adds.

“As do I,” Vito agrees. “One can only be concerned so much as to what strangers abroad are doing or how they risk their lives. We must work together so there’s no war between our families and only peace.”

“I have to say,” Tom speaks up, “to have no rivalry despite working with our families and their investments is impressive, Mr. Giordano.”

“I appreciate your praise, Tom,” Francesco gives Tom a polite smile. “In this line of work, I had to be a salesman and businessman. I hope our families can continue to be civil and work with one another. I know my wife enjoys the company of our family get-togethers and it would also be good for Gabriella as well, considering her sister is in Austria.”

“Ah, how is she?” Vito’s eyes light up in interest. “Enjoying her time abroad?”

“Indeed,” your father nods happily, “Bella is taking a varieties of courses on subjects in the arts, especially music and literature It’s good for her to broaden her horizons but I miss her, and I think Gabriella does too, of course.”

“Ah, very understandable,” Don Cuneo nods.

‘Gabriella?’ Sonny blinks, thinking to himself. ‘Who is she?’

“Michael is the same,” Vito gives his shoulders a shrug. “He is at Dartmouth now and I am proud of him for entering study in political science.”

“He doesn’t wish to follow in your footsteps, Vito?” Don Barzini smirks.

“He wants no involvement whatsoever,” Vito shakes his head. “Which is more than fine with me. Michael seeks a career in politics. I say sometimes American politics can be so foolish, but Michael can also be stubborn when he wants to. Nonetheless,” Vito places his hands down upon his desk, “I’m very proud of him.”

“Indecisive, perhaps?” Your father suggests.

“Nah,” Sonny interrupts, scoffing. “Michael wants to do everything and anything.”

“He is the youngest after all,” Tom chuckles quietly. “Then my sister Connie who is the youngest child of the family.”

“Ah, the lovely Connie,” Francesco smiles warmly, “of course. Michael is a bachelor, then?”

“All my sons are, except Tom,” Vito answers, somewhat unhappy about his answer. “Perhaps that will change, won’t it, Fredo?” Vito gives Fredo a gentle pat on the shoulder.

“Sure, Pop,” Fredo says back sheepishly.

“And Santino’s a different story,” Vito continues, gesturing to his eldest son.

“I dunno,” Sonny chuckles to himself, shrugging his shoulders. “Marriage isn’t really something on my mind just yet, you know.”

“Would you like to marry in the future, though?” Don Cuneo asks him.

“I do,” Sonny nods, “have some kids, a family—settle down, yeah. Why not? I just don’t think I got any opportunity to now but I’m not the kind of man who would push it all away.”

Vito nods, staring back down at his drink in hopes the conversation about Sonny being a bachelorette will change in the next few moments, for the sake of the Corleone family’s dignity.

Vito knows everyone else in the room is just as away of Sonny’s promiscuous behaviour and lifestyle as he is, after all.

~

Out in the courtyard with the ladies and you, most of the conversation continues with your mother, Theresa and Carmela, all giddy about Theresa’s pregnancy.

“Congratulations again, honey,” your mother tells Theresa, “how has it been for you so far? An easy pregnancy, I hope.”

“A little difficult, honestly,” Theresa admits, sheepishly. “It’s improving though.”

“It will for baby number two as well,” Carmela chimes in.

You turn back to Connie and smile, inviting a conversation of your own that she starts.

“Welcome, Gabriella,” Connie says to you, “it’s honestly nice to put a name to a face at last. Mama has told me a bit about you and your sister but we surprisingly never had the chance to meet.”

“I know,” you pout, “I wish we could have met one another much sooner. My twin sister is in Austria right now, actually, so she has no chance at all yet. You know, touring Western Europe when she feels up to an adventure. I’m not so lucky or adventurous though,” you laugh.

“Neither am I,” Connie admits, “it’s refreshing to meet someone like you. What’s Bella in Austria for?”

“Art school,” you reply, smoothening out your shirtwaist dress. “Art has always been a passion for Bella, mostly music, literature and art history.”

“Must run in the family then,” Connie beams at you, “mama told me both you and your mother are artists too.”

Flattered, you nod eagerly with a smile. “We’d like to say so! It runs within the ladies of the family. I adore fine art like sculpture and art history, but personally, it’s not my passion.”

“Applied arts then, maybe?” Connie offers, growing further interested in the conversation at hand.

“Something like that,” you ponder for a moment, “I prefer painting, like mama. I’ve always loved doing so.”

“Wow,” Connie murmurs to herself, “do you have any inspirations for making art?”

“Maybe not the answer you’re looking for—” you chuckle sheepishly, “but I’d honestly have to say emotions inspire me, and my environment. Even the weather—small things like that. Artists like Van Gogh and Monet also inspire me.”

“That’s amazing,” Connie brushes back a curtain of her dark hair behind her ear. “Mama had actually been telling me earlier about the private art school your mother teaches at and…I was honestly thinking about enrolling to get a feel for myself but I wasn’t entirely too sure.”

“Definitely go for it,” you can scarcely hide the enthusiasm in your tone. “Mama would be more than happy to guide you along the way too. I still attend when I have the time and you could too for passion or for credentials. There’s something for everyone.”

“Absolutely,” your mother chimes into the conversation. “I would love to show you around the school as well, Constanzia. Someday, Gabriella will have to show you her paintings.”

“I would like that very much,” Connie smiles back politely. “I can tell she’s very talented.”

“Thank you,” you blush.

“She’s a nurse by trade, did you know that?” Mama Corleone adds, causing both Theresa and Connie’s eyes to widen in surprise.

“I am,” you admit, noticing how proud your mother looks next to you. “Practice and passion versus hobbies and passion.”

“Wow,” Theresa breathes, “that’s wonderful. How do you like nursing, Gabriella?”

“So far, so good,” you giggle quietly. “I’m fairly new to the practice but I’ve been tending to some injured soldiers lately. It’s practical, and I’m excited to see where the career takes me.”

“A nurse at a baby shower, how nice!” Theresa gushes.

~

With business conversation endlessly continuing in Vito’s office, Sonny remains to be the only one itching to get out of his seat and at least take cigarette break from the stuffy talk he has no need to contribute too.

Then again, Sonny’s more obligated to listen and consider every word coming out of Vito’s mouth wisely due to being his father’s successor and having to expect the same business talks directed towards him someday.

“You can tell Luca,” Vito gestures to Sonny, grabbing his attention. “Give him a call and let him know, since he won’t listen to Tom anyway.”

Chuckles fill the room as Sonny gives a nod, sighing in relief under his breath and beginning to rise from his seat.

You’ve just stepped into the Corleone manor for a quick bathroom break after getting some much needed directions from Connie on how to navigate the estate; unable to stop yourself from gazing and admiring the furniture and fixtures of the stunning foyer.

Remembering Connie’s words on reaching the first bathroom, you begin to head down the hallway when you momentarily stop in your tracks to sneeze.

Covering your nose, you sneeze quietly and sniffle—instantly feeling a momentary sharp prickle in your nostrils.

Blinking, you continue walking forward—albeit slowly—due to being distracted by the small throbbing pain beginning to start in your nose.

“Ugh…” You rub your nose tenderly, eyes widening in surprise to see droplets of blood over your fingers.

A split second passes before you sneeze again, realizing the culprit is the stuffy and somewhat dust filled air in the hallway getting to you.

It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve experienced something similar, but it annoys you to no avail nonetheless.

You cover your nose and continue heading towards where you assume the nearest bathroom is, being careful so as not to spill any blood on the mahogany floorboards or onto your dress.

“Found it yet?!” You hear Connie’s voice echo down from the foyer as she peaks her head inside the estate.

“Yes, don’t worry!” You let out a half muffled call back, spotting the bathroom at the end of the hallway.

“Alright, I’ll wait for you back outside!” Connie shouts, shutting the front door behind her.

The “yes, don’t worry!” you proclaimed out catches Sonny’s interest instantly; the sound of an unfamiliar, yet sweet voice he’s never heard before.

Stunned, Sonny’s unable to focus on anything else and drowns out the chatter and noise from Vito’s office before he exits out into the hallway and shuts the door of Vito’s office behind him.

You sneeze again, whimpering out of annoyance as you feel blood beginning to trickle from your nose.

Following every sound you make, Sonny furrows his brows and walks downstairs and towards the hallway cautiously—both hands in the pockets of his dress trousers.

Only a split second later does Sonny spot you; an unfamiliar woman with your back facing him, wearing a burgundy swing dress with white kitten heels, your hair curled over your shoulders and more peculiarly, how you clutch your hand over your nose.

“Are you alright?” Sonny speaks out to you, coming closer to step into your line of view.

You blink, assuming one of the Corleone family’s bodyguards or security must have heard you sneezing and walking around the manor by now, but when you turn around you can tell just by the posture and amused expression over the stranger’s face that he’s neither.

Sonny and you don’t know one another nor have you seen each other before. You’re not even aware of what the Corleone men’s names are besides Tom and Vito, and you just learned Tom’s today through Theresa.

Blush instantly hits your cheeks as you feel your skin warm at the sight of Sonny. This man is tall with a slim but lean, fit build; sharp shoulders giving Sonny a firm build, his hair in brunette curls and his jawline chiselled with a smirk over his face.

There’s an air of confidence over Sonny and you can already tell with just a glance that he’s someone important.

You assume just by Sonny’s body language across from you that aggressiveness isn’t unheard of from him, but he seems intrigued and even friendly towards you.

“Oh, fine, thank you,” you answer back, still covering your nose. “I didn’t imagine it to be so stuffy down here.”

Sonny chuckles, stepping closer to you before taking one hand out of his pocket to gesture around to the walls. “The walls in this place are older than you and be combined. Don’t mind that.”

You gaze up at Sonny, unable to stop yourself from blushing as he gets closer to you.

You lower your hand away from your face without even realizing it, revealing your bloody nose to Sonny.

Sonny barely reacts to the sight of blood over your face but the look upon his face that he gives you doesn’t appear the way one would gaze at a stranger or someone they’ve met for the first time; the look in Sonny’s eyes may as well tell him he’s known you his whole life.

Sonny wants to ask you if he’s seen you somewhere or if the two of you know each other from some time ago, but something urges him to keep quiet, knowing the answer must be no.

Sonny’s muscles tense from a rush of arousal hitting him at the sight of you, already wildly attracted to you with no intention of denying it.

“Here,” Sonny reaches into the breast pocket of his suit jacket, pulling out a neatly folded, silk handkerchief before handing it to you. “Don’t let it bleed all over you now.”

You hesitate for a moment, not at Sonny’s kindness but the expensive cloth he’s just handed you to wipe your nose with.

A warm, playful smile crosses Sonny’s lips as he reads through your hesitancy. “You’re Gabriella, aren’t you?”

Sonny knows better. An unfamiliar woman in his house with Mr. Giordano visiting? He’s already beginning to figure you out. Luckily, he didn’t assume you’re Bella.

“I am,” blushing, you answer a little out of breath and take the silk handkerchief from Sonny. “Thank you so much…” Your voice trails off as you realize you don’t know this man’s name.

“Santino Corleone,” Sonny introduces himself t you. “But everyone calls me Sonny.”

‘So he IS a Corleone…’

“Sonny,” you repeat, feeling your cheeks stinging with blush. “Thank you.”

Sonny grins, extending out a hand to shake yours as you wipe your nose with your free one. “It’s nice to meet you at last, Miss Giordano.”

As you shake Sonny’s hand back, you feel the same current of arousal rushing through him go through you.

“We haven’t met before, have we?” Sonny finally asks, unable to shake off the belief that he’s more than just familiar with you.

“This would be the first time,” you shake your head, “it’s nice to meet you as well. I’ve yet to meet your whole family yet, but,” you smile shyly, “thank you for having us to celebrate Tom and Theresa.”

“Thanks for coming,” Sonny smirks, “you’ve probably met Theresa already but Tom will be out in a moment and then you can see him too.”

You don’t notice Sonny’s eager eyes gazing up and down at your figure a split second after.

“Were you looking for someone or something?” Sonny asks you.

“Just the bathroom,” you admit, sheepishly. “I…” Your nose has fortunately stopped bleeding, but you look at the silk handkerchief in your hand to see the crimson mess staining through it.

“Don’t worry about it, darling,” Sonny scoffs; he couldn’t care less about the damn handkerchief.

“If you insist,” you begin to carefully fold the handkerchief in the palm of your hand. “It’s just about the whole reason why I came in.”

“Fair enough,” Sonny forces his eyes off of yours, gesturing further down the hallway. “Unless the whole baby shower is waiting for you to get back, I’ll help you out here. Give you a tour of the estate and every bathroom you can find in here.”

“Oh, Mr—” you correct yourself immediately, “Sonny—I would like that very much but I don’t want to interrupt what you’re doing for something like that—”

“Believe me, I insist,” Sonny interrupts, smiling at you. “Guests come first. It’s really no problem. Let me give you a proper tour around here.”

“Alright then,” you accept, smiling back at him. “If it’s no trouble with you, I’d love to.”

“Alright then, Miss Gabriella,” Sonny moves next to you, leading the way out of the hall. “Stay close to me, alright?”

Blushing furiously, you nod back at Sonny who looks over at you behind his shoulder. “I’m with you.”

There’s no doubt about it; had you refused to go along with Santino and returned back to the baby shower or simply didn’t choose to communicate or see Sonny again after today, of course your life would be different. Either way, it would have changed.

What would you know now in this fleeting moment that couldn’t possibly mean anything else to you, trusting in this influential man son to a powerful Don that you just met, feeling as if he’s suddenly wanted to treat you as someone else in his home other than a guest?

If anyone asked years from now, you would tell them the truth. Yes, you would follow Santino Corleone to the ends of the earth, to hell if you had to and beyond that to meet him in whatever life awaited you next.

This is just the beginning of what destiny has spelled out for you side to side with a man like Santino Corleone.

But for now, you follow Sonny in hopes you’ll get to know this kind stranger and the Corleone family better, because your heart is bound to give in sooner rather than later.

[romanarose]

If You Wanna Be Wild: Chapter 2

Javier Peña x Latina!sex worker!informant!Reader/OC x Santiago Garcia

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Summary: Javi and Santi talk about where to start with Lorea; Santi thinks on his night with Candy

Content and warnings for whole fic, not chapter by chapter unless something is added: Sex work, drug trade, some drug use/pressured used, sex workers and the mistreatment/stigma surrounding them specifically in the 70’s (my blog is sex worker positive) but ima put potential dub con depending how you look at it as a sex worker who works with dangerous men, some action surrounding reader and the guys and the drug trade, SMUT HEAVY, corruption kink (were corrupting santi here, he’s young, 25), no loss of virginity tho, threesomes, some slight m/m smut but that’s not the focus here, but as you know this blog is an lgbt blog so I’m always open to gay shit. Talk of war and some PTSD but I won't be going a whole lot into it.

Additional warnings: Catholic guilt and religous trauma and religion talk. However, this is not an anti catholic page. We can discuss the problems of the church at large and the guilt that abstence-only and shame based discussions on sex can affect people, but my family is catholic and I have a lot of respect for the individual people, especially Latino-catholics.

For the record, this is a fic that takes place in the drug trade and deals with the darker side of humanity, so anything from Narco's and Triple Frontier is liable to be discussed or mentioned here. This is your warning. This is not a dark fic nor is it centered around dark themes like Leather and Lace or Sunshine Starlight Sweetheart Brightside, but they are open to be talked about.

Reader has a nick name: Candy. Not her real name just what she goes by on her profession. Much of the inspo for this and for the title came from the Bruce Springsteen song “Candy’s room” so check it out for the vibes.

Reader speaks Spanish and had hair. I've decided Candy is just latina coded bc she's a sex worker in colombia so this is what I'm doing.

3.1k words. Proof red by my beloved Fen

Perspective changed per section. When perspective is Santi or Javi, reader is referred to in the 3rd person or by Candy.

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

You have Santi sat up on the bed, facing you. Well, Diego. That’s what he said his name was, but if he thought you didn’t know who the new DEA agent in town was, he was mistaken. After your 3rd arrest for prostitution, you got a lot more careful, and always tried to keep up with the police in the area. You wondered if he knew Javi.

“Alright Diego, tell me, what exactly is it you’re looking for?” You ask, but he looks confused, so you give a soft, warm sigh. He was one of those ones. “Are you just looking for a quick fuck? Getting to know each other and forming a connection, exploring things?”

Santi considered his options. “Well, maybe I’d like to learn a little bit… only had s-” He swallowed. “sex a few times… you know, lights off, missionary, couple pumps and done…” A nervous chuckle emitted from him, so you tried to ease him with a soft smile.

“Don’t worry, baby boy, we can do that. Let’s start with getting to know a woman’s body, how about that?”

*

“Garcia, wake the fuck up.” Javi’s voice broke Santi out of his daydreaming, making him snap towards Javi.

“Huh? Sorry.”

“Whatsamatter, pretty boy, got dicked down too hard last night?”

Santi’s eyes went wide at that. “Dicked-?!?! DICKED DOWN? JAVI!” He leaned in to whisper harshly, as if it was important enough to keep quiet but not so bad Santi couldn’t miss an opportunity to clutch his pearls. “Javi, you fucking know I could get arrested for that!”

“I’m joking, pendejo.”

“You shouldn’t joke about that!”

Apparently, Santi looked concerned enough that Javi backed down, raising his hands in defeat. “Tranquilo, tranquilo amigo, lo siento. Yo parare.”

A little shaken, Santi glanced down as he calmed himself. “Gracias, Pena”. He rolled his shoulders and shook his head before clearing his throat. “So. Lorea. What do we got?”

*

Santiago Garcia had never seen a pussy up close before. There’d been porno magazines, sure… and he’d… touched a bit. He wasn’t an animal, Will had explained he can’t just shove his dick into a woman, that could hurt her. No, you gotta warm her up first, seduce her, open her up. Santi heard more than he ever wanted to of the sordid detail of Will eating pussy. However, when it came to actual sex, Santi barely got through it without a panic attack. There was no way he was going to attempt to go down on a girl under those conditions. Still, he didn’t want to hurt her, so he made sure to finger the 3 girls he’d somehow bumbled his way into bed with.

He needed to do better. Candy was allowing him the chance to explore, get over his nerves.

“But I want you to cum…” He had insisted.

“Well aren’t you a sweet boy… I’ll make sure I cum, how about that? Let me worry about that.”

“But…” he had looked across at her. “But I wanna learn how too.”

She nodded with reassurance. “You will, trust me, I’ll teach you. Just for today, focus on getting comfortable. I’ll let you know what feels good and what doesn’t but what works for me may not work for someone else, so remember that. Most important thing is communicating and listening to her body, so let’s start there.”

That’s how he got here, flat on his chest with Candy’s legs spread out before him. Her pussy was glistening for him.

“Where do I… how do I start?”

Candy sat up just a bit on her elbows. “Start by just getting familiar, explore.”

So he did. Santi started with touching. His index and middle finger swept along her folds, moving and opening her up for his view. She was beautiful. He started with the top, the area just below her pantyline tan skin under a bush of hair followed by her folds coming to a head.

“That’s the clit, that’s very important.” She took his fingers and pulled back the hood. “Touch there” When Santi complied, Candy sank back down on her bed with a hum.

Santi felt a swell of pride at giving her pleasure. “Is that good?”

“Very good, pretty boy. Lot of nerves right there.”

He continued touching below, feeling the way her skin moved to his touch and how his fingers slid across the slick, soft skin below… She looked delicious.

“Can I taste you?”

*

“Where do we even start with something like this?” Santi groaned, flopping his head back.

Javi couldn't help but roll his eyes at that. “Don’t be such a child, Garcia. You take this shit one step at a time, just like anything else. Let’s start with what we know.”

The handsome younger man sighed. “Fine.” He pulled out the casefiles and Javi noticed how much calmer he’d seemed, less high strung… still high strung but that was just Santiago, Javi came to realize. “Gabriel Martin Lorea, coke dealer, devout catholic and family man… none of which stops him from hiring hookers.”

Javi chuckles. “Few things do.”

“Well, marriage should, especially when you have children.” Santi glared at him. 

His naivete, something Javi had been dreading with a younger partner, ended up endearing Santi to him. “Right, right of course.” He smiled and shook his head before lighting up a cigarette.

“Do you really have to do that indoors?”

“So sue me. I’m the one smoking, it’s not like it can hurt you.”

“I don’t know, I heard of a study that secondhand smoke can-”

Javi blew a puff of smoke in Santi’s face. “That’s just anti-smoking propaganda pushed by doctors to sell more nicotine patches.”

*

Santi had dived right in. Once he had permission to taste, he very tentatively licked a strip up her folds and to the clit… and was suddenly a starved man, insatiable, desperate to devour her and drown in her juices.. She liked when he touched her clit so he was sure to latch his mouth over the hood. As he sucked, Candy instructed him to finger her and he was happy to oblige. This, he could handle at least.

“Good boy…” Candy cooed at him. “Such a good boy for me, so obedient.”

“Wanna be good.” He mumbled into your core as he lapped at her, hips rutting against the bed. “Wanna do good.”

When her fingers found his hair, tangling up in his curls and tugging just a bit, he couldn’t help but whine into her, toes curling in his socks.

“You’re doing so good, baby boy, so good, but I’m gonna need you to stop.”

Stop? He didn’t wanna stop. Santi wanted to die here with her… Was it time? How much time did he pay for- ait, he hadn’t even paid her yet. What was her going rate? He didn’t fucking care right now, right now he’d pay her his life savings, his military pension, his first born, whatever she wanted if he could cum. 

“Whyyyyy?!” He simply went back to eating her out, taking every moment he had.

“Because,” Candy pulled at his curls, forcing him to look up and crawl back up her golden body. “Because you are about to cum, and I still wanna ride you.”

He could feel his eyes go wide at that. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what that meant… but for someone who had only ever done missionary, the whole concept seemed so… dirty. Santi chuckled nervously, tucking his head into the crook of her neck. “I’ll be honest, Candy, I’m not sure how much longer I’m gonna last as it is.”

He felt her chuckle. “Let’s slow down for a moment, then. I want you to undress.”

His breath hitched, but he made the move to undo his pants until she stopped him.

“Uh-uh, Diego. Stand up. Let me watch you undress.”

Undress like… standing? By himself? All out there and naked? “Um… can’t I do it here?”

“You can.” She confirmed with a kind smile. “But I’d really like to watch you strip for me.”

How could he resist that? Tentative, slow and careful, Santi stood up and Candy sat on the edge of the bed, bottoms off but still clothed top. “Are you gonna take that off?” It was half a joke, half a genuine question.

Candy nodded. “I will, just trust me.”

And he did, with everything in him.

So he took off his shirt.

*

“Okay. Catholic. Do we know what church he goes to?”

Javi raised an eyebrow? “You think a drug lord is going to daily mass?”

“No, but if he’s devout I assume he’s got a family that goes. Wife and children maybe, but definitely a mother. I don’t know one woman over 50 who doesn’t belong to a perish, especially a hispaña woman.”

“You find a lot of company con mujeres mayor, amigo?”

“Shut up. I say we start there. If we can find out about his family's church, we can probably find out a little more.”

Apprehensive as always, Javi crossed his legs, doubtful. “I don’t know, what can we possibly find out?”

Santi shrugged. “Not sure, but churches have a lot of records when it comes to members and if he has a family that is active we might find out something useful.”

“Is this really the best use of our time?”

Javi raised a good point, this might be a dead end, and they would have wasted all that time. “Just give me a picture of all known families and I’ll keep an eye out.”

Now that caught Javi’s attention, cocking an eyebrow at him. “You go to church, Garcia?”

A faint blush crept up Santi’s neck. His mother was very religious, that religion instilled into him and his sister. His sister couldn’t care less anymore, but then again she had never cared much about their mother’s harsh opinions and strict standards… Santi did. And so, even now with her passing, Santi attended mass often. Not a part of a regular perish, he just attended where he could and when his schedule allowed. The old women there did love him, but Santi knew Javi would never let that go. “Tengo muchas tías y primos en la zona. Si no muestro mi cara en la iglesia a veces, se lo dirán a mi madre y nunca escucharé el final.”

Javi didn’t need to know his mom was dead.

*

Santi nervously slides down his trousers and underwear, revealing the last bit of himself to Candy. Except for his tube socks. He wasn't sure what to do about those.

“Can I… move now?” He asked, a tremble in his soft voice.

She cocked her head to the side. “Does it make you nervous? To be seen like this.”

“To be seen like what?”

Candy stood up. “Naked, vulnerable, in full lighting…” She walked over towards him and placed her hands on her chest. “To let someone be able to see every part, every dip…” She felt over the ripples of his stomach muscles. “Every.” Lower. “Single.” Lower. “Inch.” Grabbing onto his hardened cock and began stroking it.

Santi let out a shuttered gasp at the touch of her hand. With her other one she lifted it to his mouth. “Lick, pretty boy.”

He was happy to oblige, not needing to know why. He didn’t need to ask questions with her, he could simply shut off his mind and let Candy guide him… mother knows best. Santi lapped at her palm, keening into it as the wetness smeared on his face.

“Such a good puppy”

The whine that emitted from him was out of him control; he liked the praise, he liked the nickname. He liked it a lot. He had been taught his whole life that sex was for procreation, a dirty thing to be done in shame and in quiet but here she was, proudly jerking him off with the now-wet hand… His mom would have said she was consumed by lust, that the devil had taken her, but Santo saw nothing but kindness in her eyes. Yes, he was paying her, he was well aware of that fact but she did genuinely seem to want to help him, to let him explore, to allow him to care for this basic human instinct… Was this dirty? Was this wrong? He wasn’t sure he cared anymore.

“Doing so good baby boy, are you close?”

He was seconds away from coming. “S-so close.” He had his head thrown back, letting her take the lead on his pleasure.

With that, she wrapped her hand around the base of his cock, stifling his impending orgasm.

“Mierde!” Santiago grunted, body jolting a bit in the physical frustration.

“Relaje, guapo. Trust me, okay? Can you do that?”

He groaned, but complied. Santi trusted her with everything. Right now, he’d follow her into the dark.

*

“Alright, so Pope Santiago will case the churches in his free time. Where does that leave us during the time we actually get paid for?” Javi thought the nickname was fitting for the apparently religious boy.

“I think we need to learn more about his free time.” Javi put out his cigarette. “How about we talk to some girls, see if they know anything?”

Santi narrowed his eyes in confusion. “Girls?”

“Hookers, Pope, hookers.”

“Oh.” 

Javi noticed how he suddenly became so nervous. The boy needed to get laid. The new information of Santi being at least semi-religious was a whole new insight on his psyche. He already seemed to be a bit of a mama’s boy, a goody-two-shoes with a shiny military career and a good heart, but this was a little different. Javier’s family was catholic, as most families were. He had been baptized, first communion, confirmed, the whole jazz but as soon as he’d got annoying enough, his mom stopped bushing the issue. Santi, however, was still practicing.

“I’ll handle that part, Garcia. Don’t worry, I won't drag the Pope into a whore house.”

Javi had no doubt Santi could hold his own in most scenarios. Hell, he’d seen it. In line of fire, interviews, everything Santi could handle. But take him into a room full of prostitutes? Well, they’d eat him alive.

*

“Are you ready for me, pretty boy?” You had him right where you wanted him, right where you liked pretty boys like him that you got to corrupt in moments like this… Santiago was special though, you could tell. He was innocent, but he was far from the most innocent. You’d taken plenty of virginities before, so many you’d lost track of it all, but the way Santiago looked at you right now as he was sat up against the padded headboard of your bed slowly stroking him as your legs straddled his. Santiago looked at you with reverence, adoration, like he was fully submitted below you… as if you had the power, even though it was in his hands as the customer. Yeah, he was a special one. 

 A good, young DEA agent, straightline former military, special Ops and he came to you to show him how to pleasure a woman; not just to have sex, not just to get off, but to learn how to heighten the pleasure of all parties… A church going boy too. 

“Do I need to beg? Because I’ll fucking beg.” His hands were gripped at the sheets, lightning at the knuckles.

“Oh sweet boy, I won’t make you beg, I’m just checking in.” You sit up, rubbing the tip of his cock along your folds. Pulling down the foreskin, you begin to sink down on him, watching his eyes widen as your warmth enveloped him. He filled you right up. Every. Single. Inch.

“Breath baby, breath.” You urge him as you see his lips pressed tight together. 

He did as he was told, releasing a breath. 

“Good job. Now keep breathing, I’m going to finish undressing.” His cock was stuffed into you, and your bottom remained still as your top moved, stipping off your shirt and bra in one. 

It was merely a whisper. “Beautiful…” His eyes were nearly glazed over in lust when you began your work.

Up, down, up, down… you moved on him with your hands on his chest for balance… he seemed almost in shock as he looked in your eyes, only staying momentarily to look at your breasts before quickly looking back at your face as if it was impolite.

“It’s okay to look, Diego. You won’t offend me. You can find me sexy, do you think I’m sexy, Diego?”

“So pretty…” It was gasped out and you could tell he was almost there again.

You began to bounce on him with more vigor and the “You can touch me too”

“I’m… I’m a little scared too…”

Running your fingers through his curls, you ruffle it, enjoying the look of the pristine young man coming undone for you. You take the initiative for him. Hand in hand, you guide him to your breasts, encouraging Santiago to grope and squeeze as he liked and you reveal in the feeling of feeling of his excited pawing. He was enraptured in you, you and him were the only thing that matter right now, and you knew it. You stretched around him,  and you knew it had to be one hell of sight.

“Watch” Pulling him by his curls you guide him to look down where you and him connected, letting him watch the watch your cunt moved to accommodate him, making room to be filled over and over again. “See how my body let’s you in? I was made for you, pretty boy. I was made to take you inside me.”

The thick stretch was bringing you closer, and you knew he was only holding on by a thread himself, so you began to touch yourself. “Focus on that feeling, Diego. The feeling of us together. Can you feel it? I sure can.”

“I- I can, yes.” He was panting now, his bare tanned chest heaving with every bounce of you tits in his hands. 

“Yes what?” But he looked up at you in confusion, a desperation on his face to be good, do good, do this all right. “Yes ma’am”

“Yes ma- ma’ammmm” With that, Santiago’s hits thrust upward into you, his eyes drilled shut and mouth tightly closed in his attempt to muffle his own release.

You did no such thing. As he filled you up, you spilled over yourself and felt the gushing release of your cunt soaking his cock, you yelled out for him, letting him know how good he made you feel. Relaxing onto his chest, Santiago wraps his arms around you like an affection-starved child, and you get a little hint into what you think this was all about.

He needed praise. He needed fondness. He needed skin to skin contact like nothing else right now. He needed to be a good person and do it all right and know he was doing it right. 

Santiago needed to be loved.

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

IM BACK

Sorry i know it was a wait lmfao. I posted like 3 chapters of the wrong way sequel before this one lolololol OOPS

But i promise I got a fun plan for this fic! I hope you all enjoy.

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Asks are always open to discuss this fic or my others, but also for non fandom too! Talk to me about anything you're excited about! I wanna get to know you all.

Also, as a note im trying my best for historic acuracy but I know narcos goes from like 70's onward but this stays in the 70's. Pretend Pablo Escabar isn't an issue anymore lmfao.

@runa-falls @lunar-ghoulie @campingwiththecharmings @whatthefishh @itspdameronthings @persephone-girl @criticalarchitecture @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @beelzebeth87 @pimosworld @millerscoffee @heareball @thatwonderouswoman @poolbool @meveispunk @lovable-liar @millllenniawrites @read-and-wip @missdictatorme @the-fox-den @milkymoon2483 @k-ra @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @rosellacwrites @legendary-pink-dot @dreamingofbucky @axshadows @englandsgray @starsthatwatch @laiisleitte @fairlyang @alwaysmicado @theywhowriteandknowthings @casa-boiardi @lostfleurs @ninebluehearts @puglover12

[quinloki]

Hi Quin <3

I may or may not have gone through your entire catalog haha (^///^) Thank you for feeding us all so well ☆ Such stunning works!!!!! (シ_ _ )シ

I was wondering, I find that I keep on reading the same people a lot. Have you discovered some cool new people to read from recently? any great recs? stuff you keep coming back to?

Anyways, you're awesome!! And I can't wait to read what you come up with next!!!!!

=O Sideblogs and everything?

...

Σ(っ °Д °;)っ

(*/ω＼*)

Goodness. ❤️I'm glad you enjoyed my stuff enough to read all that. I'm a terribly wordy ^^;

Ah! But hmmm... I do tend to read from many of the same folks, especially since I ended up surrounded by impressive writers.

But let's do this:

@swampstew - if you follow me, you know her. I cannot fathom otherwise, and if you don't, start here.

this is @icy-spicy's master list - I'd have that cold shower ready before you start, but there's more than One Piece there.

@mydisenchantedeulogy writes for a lot of fandoms, her words are so good I'm a fan of her stories without even having seen the universes they come from.

@un-shit-yourself is a long time real life friend, and a fantastic writer. Mostly Dragon Age, but the writing pulls you in. We chat, but we don't usually cross post, so you probably don't know about this one even if you do follow me.

@zoros-sheath - if you haven't read Magnets, start there, otherwise go hog wild. I can't imagine you're going to find anything bad.

@standfucker - whew, I look - Zen makes me wonder why I even write because what she writes is just too goddamn hot. Y'all don't need me, you got her. (I say this in jest, I'm going nowhere I promise) White Out and Rotation are two of my favorites, but Stowing Away to Save Yourself is something I specifically requested and gods was I served well.

@writing-yarn-goblin and @lyndsyh24 and @theaceofflamesposts are here, but you're more likely to enjoy the first two on Wattpad and the last on Ao3. Lyn's getting more active here, but her library is full of good stuff - fluffier than my usual work, but just as good imo. Lyn is one of the biggest reasons y'all get to deal with me at all. She was a saint when I stumbled into Wattpad.

I love @heyitsdoe and @/bas-writes stuff - they are both phenomenal writers. Bas has shifted away from OP a little and is more into JJK, but if you're looking for solid fic to read, then you will find tons there and I promise you'll enjoy it =3 Doe is super sweet and her writing is always a full meal, I've commissioned her and it was far and away worth every penny.

Honestly, I'd really recommend checking out my Following page. I leave it public, but everyone on it is either a friend, a writer, an artist, or some combination of all three.

I could go on in this post for like 5,000 more words and not hit everyone who has delighted me. @cyborg-franky @coza-main @lerya-fanfic @leakyweep @leftsidebonfire -- I'm going to hit a damn tag limit again.

@thus-spoke-lo is a little on the darker side, but gods alive I love her work, and I could read it for hours if I had the hours to spare.

@vizkopa writes in a way that helped me loosen up and write more how I wanted to, so thank her for that, and enjoy what she's got - mostly on Wattpad I believe? I know that's where I've read it.

Seriously, just peruse my followers, if you need something new.

But know that like me, they're 18+ and that's a boundary for their comfort as much as anything else. So don't break that.

[tj-dragonblade]

[FLUFFBRUARY FICLET] Before I Go

Rated: G Word Count: 849 Tags: Fluffbruary, Fluffbruary 2024, fluff, sap, established relationship, Hob Gadling loves Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Dream of the Endless | Morpheus loves Hob Gadling, kisses, parting is such sweet sorrow, flower symbolism

Fluffbruary Prompts: Day 16 neighbor desire horse Day 17 magazine tactile curtains Alt prompts: evening, caress

Additional inspiration taken from a couple of these kisses

Title credit and musical accompaniment: Before I Go by Yanni (Spotify link)

Summary: Season-of-Mists-style visit, some time later in their relationship

On AO3

It is a lush and expansive garden where Hob finds himself on a beautiful summer evening—flowers climbing the trees and blooming in every direction, nocturnal birds twittering their songs in the branches overhead, crickets chirping accompaniment in the undergrowth. The stars twinkle brightly in the blue-velvet sky and the moon shines full and brilliant, a silvery wash of illumination over the landscape. The path under Hob's feet winds between flower beds and lovely stone borders, toward a burbling stream running musically beneath the trailing branches of a willow tree. He follows along to a little wooden bridge arching over the stream and across, to a decadent little bower of trellises wreathed in climbing ivy and dripping with twilight-purple wisteria.

There's a familiar figure waiting there for him, and he smiles as he draws near. "Hello, love."

"Hello, Hob." Dream's eyes glitter softly like the stars, just as dark and depthless as the sky, just as beautiful. The moonlight illuminates him like a work of art, pearlescent skin and raven-feather hair, smoke-shadow robes draping him in regal refinement. He looks ready to hold court, to receive an audience, and Hob is awestruck all over again that this unfathomably powerful otherworldly creature deigns to be his friend, to be so much more; to accept his affections, to return them. He is so very lucky, and he knows it.

He looks up at Dream, who is currently half a head taller than him, and he can feel the fondness shining in his own eyes. "I'm not awake, am I."

"No." Dream's tiny little smile is both affectionate and regretful. "I apologize for usurping your dream; there is something I must attend to that will keep me away for some time. I did not wish to leave without making you aware."

Hob furrows his brow. "It's not Hell again, is it?"

"No. Nor do I anticipate any danger or risk to myself, my realm, but there may be. Delays. In resolving the matter."

Hob knows better than to ask for specifics in this sort of thing when Dream has not given them, regardless of how curious he may be. "Will Matthew be with you?"

"Yes."

"Then I know you're in good company and I'll hear from you if needed." He wishes, in some deep fundamental part of himself, that he could accompany Dream on these sorts of errands, but in this also he knows better. There are so many things in existence that are far beyond what his immortal-but-still-mundane mind can comprehend.

Dream steps forward, closer. "Dearest Hob. I would bring you with me, were it advisable. But as it is not—" he lifts a hand to Hob's face, touches him in the gentlest caress "—I will bid you farewell, and promise to return as soon as is feasible."

Hob places his own hand over Dream's, holds it there as he leans into it. "I'll be waiting, dove. Be safe."

Dream makes no reply, just gazes at him tenderly, leans in until his forehead rests against Hob's. He tangles his fingers with Hob's, splays them behind his neck and tilts in slowly until their lips meet.

It is soft, sweet, short, this kiss; and then another, a gentle farewell before Dream draws back. His hand drops from Hob's face but Hob can't quite let go, following it down, clinging; he is full to the brim with a dozen different emotions and all he wants to do is kiss Dream again, so deeply and so thoroughly that Dream will still taste him long after they've parted, will carry his love with him on whatever this errand is and know that Hob is waiting faithfully for his return.

He's leaning back in already, helpless in the face of this desire, but redirects at the last second, planting a soft kiss on Dream's cheek instead. He won't demand more than was given, not when Dream has duty weighing heavy on his mind, not when Dream has shown such consideration in making sure to take his leave. He is respectful of Dream's time and Dream's responsibilities and he will not do anything to make Dream think otherwise.

But Dream's eyes flash as Hob draws back, and then Dream has seized Hob's bicep and yanked him back in, is kissing him soundly. Hob can't help a delighted smile, at that, but it's quickly lost in the fierce parting of Dream's lips, the yearning wanting lament of his fervent mouth, and Hob loses himself in returning the sentiment.

That. That is a proper kiss goodbye, Hob very carefully does not say aloud, blinking as Dream lets him go.

"Until I return, devoted mine," Dream breathes, the stars in his eyes blazing, and steps back.

"I'll be waiting," Hob says again, the 'as long as it takes' and 'I'll miss you' and 'I love you' unspoken.

Dream smiles, the tiny kitten-soft smile that Hob knows is just for him, and takes his leave.

Hob stays, beneath the twining ivy and the curtains of clinging wisteria, and watches him go, the music of the crickets rising gently in his wake.

= Drafted: 2/17/24 Posted: 2/17/24

Why did I pick wisteria? Gosh I'm so glad you asked! Because it's pretty, and it made for lovely visuals. BUT then I looked up meanings also, and serendipitously I found:

1. Purple wisteria symbolizes royalty and undying devotion or love that transcends time 2. Victorians would include a cluster of delicate purple blossoms in their bouquets when they wanted to send a message of overwhelming desire and passion. In particular, the Wisteria was considered to say “I cling to you” as it would cling to the branches of other trees. Wisteria sends such a strong message of romance in most cultures that they’re usually best used for declarations of devotion or for wedding arrangements. 3. Wisteria—Welcome; Meeting you means so much to me 4. Wisteria gives a symbolic representation of beauty, love, long life and immortality, grace, bliss, honour, patience, endurance, longevity, releasing burdens, victory over hardships.

(There are relevant meanings to the the ivy (fidelity, everlasting life) and the willow (flexibility, adaptation) as well)

Sources: 1 2 3 4

[pictureinme]

cheri cheri lady – kitten braden (3)

❧ you go to a peepshow. you meet kitten. your life is flipped upside down.

patricia 'kitten' braden x f!reader tags: voyeurism, oral sex, p in v, etc. (see ao3 for full list) parts: (1) (2) 3 (4) (5) (6)

The taste of cigarettes and lipstick flood your taste buds, her soft lips smiling into each kiss.

Your hands wander to her blonde curls, slightly tugging to bring her even closer to you.

“Kitten…” you murmur as the two of you catch your breath.

“Love, you’re an even better kisser than I imagined.”

“I aim to please. May we…” you motion to the general direction of your bedroom.

She meets your eyes with a look that could rival Marilyn Monroe’s lusty gaze, “Only if you carry me all the way there.”

Obliging, you scoop her up bridal style, laying her gently on the duvet. She tosses her gloves and scarf across the room.

“My knight…” Kitten reaches to unbutton your slacks, but you still her movements.

“Let me take care of you, okay?”

She pauses, unsure of something.

You backtrack, “Is that okay, love? Or are you strictly a giver…”

“I’m not exactly like you down there, Miss (Y/N),” she glances away, “I’m sorry, I didn’t think things would go so fast, I…”

You kiss her forehead gently, understanding, “Kitten, you could be as smooth as a doll down there and I wouldn’t give a damn. Come here.”

“(Y/N), you really are too much,” she kisses you with a fervor not previously there.

Climbing on top of her, you pin Kitten’s arms to the bed and move to kiss her neck.

“Oh, please be careful to not mark in obvious places… It isn’t proper for work, I’m afraid.”

You tease her with a bite, “Don’t worry, my Kitten. I’ll make sure they’re in all the hidden places.”

She smiles and whimpers as you move your way down to her chest. Kissing and sucking, you whisper adoration to her.

“Perfect little Kitten… What do you want me to do for you?”

Her eyes glance around nervously, “Whatever you’re comfortable with, truly.”

Nodding, you make your way to her thighs, “I’ll make you feel good.”

She sucks in a breath as you lift her slip up, revealing her matching blue panties.

“God, you’re beautiful…”

Kitten lets out another whimper, and you slide her panties down.

“May I use my mouth, love?” You look up at her with the most adoring eyes, and she can’t resist.

“Please, (Y/N).”

Beginning with a gentle kiss to her tip, you begin to wrap your lips around the length.

“Oh, heavens, your mouth…” she tangles her hand in your hair, urging you forward.

You move up and down, making sure to focus your tongue on the tip. Your hands grip Kitten’s thighs, stilling her unconscious thrusts. Her moans and praise have you speeding up.

“I’m so close, please, (Y/N). It feels so good, fuck!”

Nails digging into her thighs, you keep the pace going until she releases into your mouth with a long whimper.

Kitten’s chest rises and falls rapidly, her fingers still tight in your locks. She watches as you swallow, and she rushes to kiss you passionately.

“You’re the first person to ever go down on me, love,” she confesses into your mouth, “That was amazing.”

“That was my first time ever going down on someone, so I think we may be even, darling,” your breathing is equally as ragged, and your jaw slightly sore from the rapid movement.

She ghosts her hands over your thighs, looking at you expectantly.

“Only if you want to, Kitten… I’m content in just making you do that all night.”

“It’s only fair,” she starts to unzip your slacks, “And I want to hear you say my name.”

You inhale sharply as her manicured nails begin to tease at your panties, “You’re too good to me, I swear.”

“Just wait.”

Kitten pushes you back onto the bed, pulling your pants down at the same time. Moving your panties to the side, she smiles at how wet you are.

“Good to see you’re as wet as me, Miss (Y/N).”

“It’s your fault, Kitten.”

She cocks her head, and rubs a finger up your slit.

You moan at the unexpected touch, and she giggles, “So reactive. Let’s see what other noises you can make for me, love.”

Continuing to rub against your entrance, you start rocking against her.

“Ah, ah. Let me handle this,” she scratches down your hips, causing you to whimper her name.

Kitten enters you with one finger, curling and uncurling as you look at her sultry expression.

You whine, causing her to look up at you, “I need you.”

She smiles, continuing to finger you, “Be specific, (Y/N).”

“More, I just need more of you, please.”

A second finger joins the first, and your head falls back onto the bed. She moves to be above you, still fucking into you.

“Lookin’ like such an angel, love. You like it when pretty girls do things like this to you?”

She rubs your clit with her thumb, and you bliss out, “Only you, Kitten. You’re the first.”

Her eyes widen, and she adds a third finger, “Losing your virginity to a stranger, you really are a pervert. I love it, you know.”

You barely focus on her words, just on the way she fucks you while still looking so flawless. Her tongue flicks out to lick your cheek, and you melt.

“Please kiss me, Kitten.”

She wastes no time in doing so, and you feel yourself reaching a peak.

“Baby, Kitten, I think I’m gonna come, fuck!”

“Let yourself go, (Y/N), let go for me.”

She darts between your expression and her fingers moving in and out.

You shut your eyes tight, feeling her hot breath on your neck, and you let go with a flurry of moans and ‘Kittens.’

She fingers you through your orgasm, until you have to physically remove her hand.

Kitten looks almost as fucked out as you, with her curls sticking to her forehead. With her mascara smudged and lipstick gone, you think you fall in love.

[sepherinaspoppies]

hi im sepherina— she/her/they, 23, taurus, hispanic (mexico)

I occasionally write for fun

this is a 18+ page so if your blog is empty and or without your age I will block

I mainly write for any characters of Mr. Ewan Mitchell

click here for some sneak peeks/updates on my writing!

click here to see my cat :)

currently not accepting requests

my username on ao3 is the same one as here @sepherinaspoppies

masterlist under the cut!

-ˏˋ CURRENTLY WORKING ON ˊˎ

Only If For A Night Pt3

After Hours (Modern! Aemond Targaryen x Modern! Reader)

she receives a late night call from her needy boyfriend, aemond.

For a Love (Tom Bennett x Reader)— (DRAFT)

The Guy From Apartment 512 (Modern! Aemond Targaryen x Modern! Reader) — (DRAFT)

Hunger (Michael Gavery x Reader)

the things Michael does for a crunchy bar.

Never Let Me Go (Modern! Aemond Targaryen x Modern! Reader)

Aemond's girlfriend comes home stressed and frustrated and he knows how to help relieve her.

La Petite Fille De La Mer (Pirate! Aemond Targaryen x Mermaid! Reader) — (DRAFT)

Riding the Dragon (Modern! Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

after a great dinner with Aemond, he decides to give you a ride on his motorcycle, a Dragon T6.

Only If For A Night (Dark! Book Aemond Targaryen x Modern! Reader)

In Dia De Los Muertos (Day of the Dead), she gets forcefully transported to Westeros and meets her favorite book character, Aemond 'One Eye'. She asks and begs for his help to send her back home after realizing this was a world she did not want to live in. Unknowingly to her, her favorite fictional man had already grown too attached to fully let her go.

Whatever May Come series (Aemond Targaryen x Servant! Reader)

Born and hidden in the Red Keep as a kitchen maid, she learns the truth about who she really is and who she comes from. During this she captures the interest of a certain silver haired and one eyed Prince who will not show any kindness to her. She must choose either to follow in the same footsteps as her mother or escape her mother's fate. ON HIATUS

The Portrait of Aemond Targaryen (Aemond Targaryen x Reader) — (DRAFT)

The Wedding Date series (Modern! Aemond Targaryen x OC) — (DRAFT)

townes strong needs a date for her father's wedding and also to make her ex boyfriend jealous, though she has the hardest time in finding a last minute date so she instead hires an escort to solve her problems, Aemond Targaryen.

disclaimer—

I do not own any characters from the hotd, saltburn and wof universe aside from my own named original characters.

reblogs, comments, and likes are not mandatory/ forced but they are greatly appreciated as it lets me know if y'all like it and it soothes my need for validation lol

taglist—

if you wish to be tagged in my general taglist click above! if at any point you wish to be unadded shoot me a message

[nexysworld]

Chapter Summary: You finally make a decision on your relationship. Unfortunately for you it will lead to untold horrors you couldn't have imagined. Pairing: Yandere!Leon x Fem!Reader Tags: NSFW, Dead Dove, Dubcon, Kidnapping, Stalking, Smut, Unprotected Sex, Pet Names, violence, gore, MDNI, masturbation, murder, slow burn.

Read on AO3 || Ask Box Open || Masterlist

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

You continued staring up at the ceiling recovering from the self-induced orgasm. Aftershocks made your legs twitch and tense, you wiggled them about to try and ease the sensation. Finally having the energy to roll over, your view changed from the ceiling to the wall, lined with your stuffed animals. 

Childish maybe, but you always had a fond spot for them, never having been able to throw them away. Some were old, made of patchwork with faded colors – a reminder of your childhood. Others were newer, like the overstuffed pumpkin that Derek had won you for Halloween one year, or the small teddy bear Leon had given you, a present from one of his work trips. 

Your eyes lingered on the squishy pumpkin, the memory of Derek giving it to you rushed to the forefront of your memory. It had been one of your favorite dates together, spontaneously deciding to stop by the boardwalk after dinner one evening. The scent of popcorn and cotton candy overpowered the smell of the ocean as you walked along the clackity wooden path. Halloween décor was tacked on to everything in sight, even the prizes were ghosts, pumpkins, and black cats. 

“You look good like that.” He said, flashing a smile. You tugged on the brim of the cheap witch’s hat, trying to ensure the paper thin material wasn’t going to fly off in the wind. “You calling me a witch?” You gasped in mock offense. “‘Course not baby, I would never.“ He’d doubled over in laughter, spilling the soda on his favorite

band t-shirt. “Oh shit.” He shook the black fabric with one hand trying to get some of the excess liquid off. Slapping his arm playfully, you kissed his cheek. “That’s what you get for being a jerk.” “But I’m your jerk, right?” He raised a brow leaning down to return your affection for a kiss on the cheek. “Yeah, you’re my jerk.” 

As the two of you made your way down more of the game booths something caught your eye – a huge fat pumpkin with a little spider attached to it. The thing was easily the size of your entire body, and you really wanted it. Coming to a dead stop, you tugged on Derek’s sleeve before pointing at it. “Make it up to me, win me that!” He froze for a second, a nervous laugh exiting his mouth. “I mean I can definitely try…” 

The game runner ate it up, goading Derek to play. He explained it was simple, just toss it at an angle, get the ball into the bucket and boom – prize!

The first ball bounced off the plastic basket almost hitting a child in the face. The second ball followed the course of the first one. The third one impressively flew even farther, and Derek had to run to go get it. “Again.” He said determined, though the next round didn’t fare much better. By the fourth round, you weren’t able to contain your laughter anymore, which only served to egg him on. “Come on baby, I was only kidding. I don’t need it.” “I’m going to win it, just you watch.” “If you say so.” You leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. “I still believe in you, the millionth time’s the charm.”

You weren’t sure how many losses he’d suffered but you knew he’d coughed up nearly $200 and had nothing to show for it. It made your heart soar a little knowing he was willing and determined to get this for you. 

Lo and behold the last time was the charm, he’d still missed the first two shots, but the third one landed in the basket and stayed there. The smallest of the three bells rang out indicating a win and the game runner clapped behind the counter. “Congratulations!” He shouted with an exaggerated tone before taking his long hooked stick out to yank a prize down. 

It wasn’t the gigantic pumpkin, but it was just perfect in its own right. Medium sized and plump, you squished it to your chest in a hug before capturing Derek’s lips with your own. “It's perfect.”

“Mm, no you’re perfect.” He replied smoothly, wrapping an arm around you from behind as the pair of you made your way further down towards the rides. It had been getting later into the evening, things were dying down a bit. The Ferris wheel was still running and you decided to end the night on the ride together. 

The city was beautiful, sparkling likes juxtaposed against the dark buildings and streets, stars twinkling above. You could see your apartment building, and the coffee shop Derek worked at down the way. Unconsciously you snuggled closer to him in your seat, leaning your head against his shoulder. The words had slipped out of his mouth so casually you’d almost missed it, so relaxed into the moment. “What was that?” You asked softly. “I said I love you.” He replied, petting your hair. It caused your heartbeat to speed up as you registered what he’d said. The air hung heavy with the confession.

“I love you too.”

A hollow and guilty feeling erupted in your chest and made its way down to your stomach at the memory. Post nut clarity was a wild thing – and now that your head was clear everything was starting to make sense. 

Derek had been right, about everything. What did it say about you that hours ago you’d fought with him about your attachment to Leon, and now here you were getting yourself off to the very guy he was worried about. ‘I’m such an asshole.’

You squeezed the pumpkin close to yourself, taking in the still faded but lingering scent of Derek’s cologne. The urge to cry caused you to curl in on yourself for a moment, but you managed to suppress the tears behind a few sniffles. A soft breath escaped you, and you placed the pumpkin back on the shelf. 

Before you rolled back over you glanced next to the pumpkin at the small teddy bear Leon had gifted you. It was black, about the size of your hand. He said he’d brought it back from Spain on his last work trip – something you had been meaning to ask him about more in depth but never got the chance. It was cute, and it meant a lot to you at the time, but now it made your heart ache. ‘Should I get rid of it maybe? It’s not like Leon would know.’

You reached over to grab the small stuffed animal, looking it over, running your fingers against the soft fur. Something caught your eye, a red light in the left eye. It was a faded light, and you could only see it at certain angles. ‘What the –?’ You inspected it more closely, but nothing else was obviously amiss.

‘Maybe the eyes were supposed to light up or something.’ You shrugged, putting the tiny bear back where it belonged, deciding you didn’t have the heart to toss it, hoping Derek just wouldn’t notice its existence. 

Guilty and resolved to making things right, you mulled over what you’d say to Leon, to Derek. You didn’t want to abandon your friendship, but if that’s what it would take, you weren’t going to throw your relationship away – and maybe it would be better for your friendship if you weren’t so close. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Nervousness caused you to be jittery, bouncing on the balls of your feet as you stood outside his door. ‘You got this. Leon’s a good guy, he’ll understand. He’ll understand.’ You let out a deep sigh, hyping yourself up before knocking on his door. 

The second your eyes met the endless blue of his, regret washed over you from head to toe. The way he leaned against the doorframe, you’d caught him after a workout again, shirtless a sheen of sweat coating his muscles. It was the first time you’d seen him completely shirtless and it was making your brain go haywire a bit. 

Suddenly a palm was in your face, waving. “Hello, Earth to Ms. 306, you there?”  

You were snapped back to the moment. “Sorry, I was spacing out for a moment.” “You don’t say.” He laughed, standing up straight. “Well you’re the one who knocked on my door. What’s up?” “About that. The other night with Derek I uh….” How exactly were you going to explain this? “I think it’s best if maybe you and I saw less of each other.”

Hurt washed over his features. “What? Did I do something wrong?” “No, it’s nothing like that.” “I’m just confused, the guy left you at the theater and –” “I know and that was shitty of him. He just seems to think you and I are too close, and I mean I get it. I can’t say I would be comfortable if he spent as much time with another girl as I do with you.” Averting your eyes, you stared down at your feet. “I’m sorry Leon. It’s just, I do love him and I want to try and work on things ya know? Like you’re a super awesome friend and if it were up to me I’d keep things the way they are but it makes him uncomfortable…so….”

“Of course. I understand completely.” 

You swore there was a slightly strained sound to his voice, you didn’t push it though, happy that he was accepting of things. “Thank you Lee.” Like a coward, you scurried off the moment the conversation concluded.

Luckily Derek had been willing to talk things out and once you had mentioned breaking things off with Leon – if you could even call it that – his mood changed entirely. It  melted your heart to see the way his face lit up, to feel his arms around you. It affirmed in the moment you had made the right decision.

Things fell back into place like nothing had been wrong – except this time around everything was so much more smooth, a love rekindled. You found yourself talking for hours every night before bed time, laughing at dumb stories, falling asleep before the call ended. 

Date nights were becoming a regular occurrence again too, walks in the park, midnight movies. 

All in all things were great, but there was something you just couldn’t shake from the back of your mind. Every moment with Derek, every touch, kiss, conversation – it managed to abate your guilt for him, but all you could do was linger on the fact that something was just missing. 

Obviously you knew the culprit – Leon. 

Somehow, despite everything, you couldn’t shake him from your mind. You missed him terribly and he managed to invade your thoughts at the worst possible moments. Kissing Derek, you’d close your eyes and wonder what it would feel like if Leon had been on the other end.

Walking through the hallway of the battered building felt lonely without the conversations you would have and the laughter that entailed. Helping Mrs. Wilson hurt the most, having to tread to the pharmacy by foot made you miss Leon’s Jeep and the moments spent together. The few times you actually did bump into Leon or catch a glimpse of him, it hurt. 

“This is ridiculous.” You said to yourself, pulling your knees to your chest, sitting on your bed. Derek had just dropped you back home after a date, and again the only person on your mind wasn’t the one it should be. “He’s just my neighbor, a friend.” 

Letting out a sigh, you thought about the evening with Derek. He’d actually suggested moving in together now that things were getting better between the two of you. Of course you were hesitant at first, this apartment had a lot of sentimental value and leaving it behind meant taking on a new chapter of your life – it was scary. Thinking back on everything though, you were beginning to think it was a good idea. 

Everything here was reminding you of someone you can’t – shouldn’t have. Leon had been too meshed within your daily routine, and you figured a change of scenery could help with that. You could still check in with Mrs. Wilson, but not have to be reminded of him every single day. 

Resolved to your decision, you texted Derek to let him know. Not knowing why, you had the urge to tell Leon. You didn’t technically have to, and you knew that it wasn’t like you owed him an explanation – it just felt like the right thing to do. 

Still too much of a coward to face him or call, you opted to text him instead. 

‘Long time no talk. Hope ur well. :) ’

Locking the screen, you set the phone down on the nightstand, surprised when less than a minute later it buzzed with a reply. 

‘Just dandy! :) U doin ok?’

‘Yeah!’

‘U sure? not like u to txt out of nowhere.’

‘just had some news i dunno.’

‘news? hope its good lol’

‘i think so… Derek asked me to move in with him.’ 

The three bubbles to indicate he was typing popped up for a mysteriously long amount of time, making you anxious. Finally they stopped, and you waited – nothing. Thirty minutes passed by before you finally received a response. 

‘thats awesome! 👍’

Not sure how to reply, you simply didn’t. The expectation of relief after breaking the news didn’t come, but you pushed it aside. ‘Things are changing. You’ll be just fine once you’re out of here.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next time you saw Derek was about three days later – the two of you had a camping trip date planned for the weekend. With your duffel bag packed, you took the opportunity to walk  to his apartment, wanting to surprise him that morning. 

The weather was perfectly temperate and it felt nice to have fresh air and sun on your skin, without freezing to death or sweating bullets. The sounds of the city set you at ease, familiar shops and people passing you by as you made your way.

The only odd thing was Derek hadn’t replied to your text. It was just a simple ‘Good Morning’ but it wasn’t like him to not respond. Thinking he was likely just busy getting ready or slept in late, you shrugged it off. This trip was the start of something new – plans to move upon returning – and you weren’t about to let anything stop you from making it positive. Even any thought of Leon was temporarily pushed to the back of your mind. 

His apartment building was a lot nicer, and in a better part of the city. The ivory building came into view and you all but ran from the outside staircase up to the second floor where his home was. Sliding the spare key into the knob, you knew something was wrong immediately – the lights were off and the whole place just felt stale.

“Der?” You called out, flipping the living room light on. “You here?” No response came, you looked out the window to the parking lot and sure enough his car was there – no camping gear on top though. 

Making your way further inside the apartment, you looked around for any sign of him. His keys were tossed on the stained coffee table where they always were. His shoes were by the front door. There was no immediate sign of exit or entry. 

His bedroom door was closed though, something you knew was unusual – he always left it open even at bed time. 

“Der?” You called again, gently cracking the door open. The room was dark, curtains drawn and no artificial light to be found. Your eyes had to adjust for a moment before you saw the lump of human form underneath the bed sheets, comforter having been discarded onto the floor. “Baby?” You gently shook him, turning the nightstand light on to the lowest setting. The sheets were moist and sweat soaked, his brows were knitted together in his unconscious state – like a nightmare. It took a few more forceful movements before he finally stirred, shooting up in the bed. “What the fuck!? Oh…oh my god baby I’m sorry. You scared the shit out of me.” He brought his hand over his heart as he caught his breath. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I wanted to surprise you but when I came in everything seemed off. Are you alright?” “Yeah, I just wasn’t feeling well. Guess I slept in.” “You’re soaking with sweat, are you sure you’re ok to go? We can just stay in if you’re not well.” “No baby, I’m fine. I promise.” He gave you a weak smile before kissing your cheek. “Just let me take a quick shower and pack up.”

“Okay, if you’re sure. I can start carrying the gear down to the car.” He did not look okay at all. His eyes seemed more sunken than usual, skin pale and clammy. Something beyond that just felt off - but he continued to insist everything was fine. 

“Maybe just stop by urgent care real quick. I mean if you are sick maybe they could give you something for it that you can take on the trip?” “Baby, we’re halfway to the campsite. All I need is some fresh air and time with my girlfriend. I told you I feel fine.” “Alright…” You had to admit the campsite he picked was beautiful. This flat plane of grassy area set atop a hill, you could see the entire valley below including the river – the mountains and the sky were along the horizon too. It was beyond breathtaking and you could only imagine the view once the sun set and the stars began to twinkle unimpeded by the city lights. The little area was surrounded by a thick layer of trees, giving you plenty of privacy.

Awestruck by it all, the thought of Derek’s condition nearly dissipated entirely from your thoughts – he seemed to be getting better anyway, easily handling stretching out the tarp, and hammering the stakes into the ground for the tent base. 

“At least one of us is useful.” You teased, nearly getting tangled in the plastic and wiring of the tent. Attempting to bend one of the thin metal sticks down to loop into another section, it flung back whipping you in the face instead. “Fuck, ouch.” A nice thin slice of blood trickled down the stinging red mark on your face. You covered that side of your face with your sleeve. “Can you grab me the first aid kit?” 

There was no response to your request, heavy silence ringing out into the air. “Babe?” Using your good eye you looked over to where he was working on the base, he stood staring at you. “Derek? Hello?” Something about it unsettled you in a way you couldn’t describe, like a 6th sense. “This isn’t funny.” His eyes seemed darker, and his body movement frozen as he gripped the hammer in his hand, tightly. “You’re starting to scare me!”

Snapping out of it, he shook his head before smiling, posture instantly relaxing. “What are you talking about – oh my god are you okay?” He ran over to inspect you and you noted his skin felt weird and cold against your own, not like the usual wet heat you’d experience with a fever. You weren’t sure what to make of it at all, but concern grew within you. “What was that all about?” “What are you talking about?” He replied, dabbing gently at your face with the alcohol pad. A hiss left your lips at the stinging sensation. 

“You just stood there staring at me, totally spaced out.” “I don’t remember that at all.” “Derek, are you sure you’re okay? Like really okay?” “Are you going to keep asking me that this entire trip?” “No, I just….” “Look, let’s finish getting set up for the night, I promise you’ll feel better once we’re settled in.” Another quick kiss and he grabbed the part of the tent you’d been fumbling with to finish putting it together. Not wanting to be near him at the moment, you chose to take his advice, stringing up the solar-fairy lights around the trees and moving to get the campfire spot set up. 

“All done?” “All done!” He said giving you a high five. “Looks great babe, the lights are really cute. I can't wait to see them tonight.” “Me either.” You replied, kissing him – the cold clammy feeling still there. 

There were still a few hours left in the day before sundown, so you opted to explore along the trail for a while. Derek seemed okay initially, his breaks were paced out in a way that made sense. As the day turned to late afternoon though, his breathing seemed to be more labored, breaks became more and more frequent. 

You wanted to say something badly, but knowing he’d blow you off you kept it to yourself hoping it was just a cold or something. 

By early evening, he was looking rough, red veins in his eyes accentuated by deep purple bags, shivers running through him despite the air having become more humid. His bouts of spacing out became more frequent too – randomly staring off into space nodding as if he was in agreement with some invisible thing. 

The worst was when he’d disappeared for 30 minutes on a piss break. You’d found him face first against the tree, urine on his shoes, cock still in hand. Even the sound of your voice didn’t stir him from the spot – nor did shaking his shoulder. 

It was another 5 minutes before he snapped out of it this time, smiling at you? “How’s your eye feeling?” Was all he asked as he zipped himself up. 

A fear stitched itself together within you and more and more you were working on ways to get out of here – to get him some help because something was not right and it definitely wasn’t a cold. This was beyond your comprehension or ability to assist with.

As night began to shadow the area, the two of you made it back to your campsite. The lights you'd hung glistened against the backdrop of the dark woods giving you enough light to set up the fire. Insisting on it, you tucked Derek beneath a thick blanket on the camping chair and begged him to rest.

You considered calling 911, but the thought of all the lights and sirens worried you that it might spook the clearly ill man or provoke him. What you really needed at the moment was advice because you frankly didn’t know what to do, but you were scared.

“Here, drink this.” You said handing him the thermos of now heated soup. “Just try to rest for a bit.” You kissed his forehead. He was getting worse now, feeling like he had been dipped in an ice bath, you never knew a human could get so cold. You swear his veins were getting darker too, at least the ones around his neck – but it could’ve just been the low lighting. “I have to go to the little girl’s tree, I’ll be back.” You assured him, walking until you hoped you were out of earshot. Your phone was gripped tightly in your hand as you paced trying to figure out the best course of action. ‘Can 911 even make it out here? Do people really call 911 over a sick person?’ 

“Fuck, I don’t know what to do.” Unlocking your phone, you squinted, eyes adjusting to the overwhelming brightness of the screen in the dark area. “Who would?” You scrolled through your contacts list at least 5 times – only one name ringing in your head. “I mean he works for the government – not that I know what he does exactly … but maybe?” 

The phone rang with a crackling sound indicating the poor connection from the wilderness – relief flooded over you as the other end of the line picked up. “Leon, thank god. I know this is wildly inappropriate given everything but I need –” Before you even finished you realized he couldn’t hear you. The staticky noise picking up, his voice echoing in and out sounding robotic. The line disconnected on it’s own and the top corner read ‘no signal.’ “Fuck!” You kicked the trunk of the tree in front of you.

“Babe?” The sound of Derek’s voice brought you back, it sounded so weak and hoarse. “I’ll be right there.” You yelled back. “Babe?” He called again. “Babe I’m scared.”

The words made you shiver, the hair on your neck raised – it sounded like Derek, but not at the same time. You still forced that feeling aside and marched back to camp, legs feeling like sand bags as you made them move against your own will. 

“What’s wrong –”

You stopped just behind the tent, he was standing there facing you, the fire illuminating his skin. “Babe, I’m scared.” He repeated again, though his face held no emotion – completely expressionless. Dark black vein made spiderwebs along his skin, running from his arms up onto his face. His irises looked black, red blood vessels in both eyes popped making him look like a demon. The corners of his mouth had blood dried to them. 

He coughed into his hand, more blood coming out. “Help me.” He reached a hand out towards you. Instinctively, you stepped back away from him. “Help me.” He repeated again stepping forward directly into the campfire – unphased by the flames that were licking away at his clothing, his skin. For each step he took forward, you took one back, legs shaking as silent tears spilled. A visceral fear like you’d never experience before sent shockwaves throughout your entire body. 

He brought two burning hands to his head, the flames catching at his hair while he continued to stumble forward at an uneven pace. “My head. It’s splitting my head.” His voice became warbled as he spoke, like his tongue was suddenly too big for his mouth. “You’re scaring me….” You managed to squeak out, barely above a whisper. 

“IT’S SPLITTING MY HEAD!” He shouted this time, head twisting to the side the sound of his neck cracking. His features began to warp, nose pulling to the left, mouth twisting, eyes swirling as the flesh tore and split apart – the sound of wet tearing making you feel ill. 

A small worm-like thing poked out of the top of his head, before it darted out, growing and growing in size. A second later his head finally tore an explosion of tentacles waving around in the air, like purple blood worms dancing above the neck of his burning body. His features, the ones you knew so well were twisted amongst the new flesh. 

The now sideways mouth opened into a hiss, long tongue slithering out like a snake. Warm urine trickled down your leg against your will, fear paralyzing any movement or rational thought. There was no comprehension of what was in front of you. 

Despite the flames melting the flesh of the body, it didn’t seem like it was going to stop anytime soon. A tentacle whipped itself forward, slapping against the tree above you, nearly hitting you. The slimy slapping sound was enough to get your legs moving, despite how wobbly they were. 

You took off into the dark of the woods, leaves crunching beneath you. Shadows danced around your vision in the moonlight that only casted down between the canopy of the trees. The yellow light behind you mixed with the gargling and fleshy noises told you the creature was behind you in pursuit. Branches and bushes whipped your skin leaving you with cuts and welts you couldn’t feel through the adrenaline – path lost you just went as long as you could.

You saw the opening to the camp parking lot, the low streetlamps like a guiding star. “Help!” You shouted, waving an arm as you ran. “God help me!” You screamed again hoping someone would hear you. In your haze you hadn’t noticed the overgrown root curled out of the ground, it caught your ankle right before you made it to the cement of the parking lot.

Your face hit the yellow barrier of the closest spot, a crunching pop against your nose, iron infecting your sense of smell. When the stars stopped buzzing around your head, you looked down to see your ankle still caught under the root, twisted and purple – bone sticking out through the side.

The hissing sound told you the creature wasn’t far behind, the tips of the tentacles appearing just within your now hazed vision. Coughing on the blood that spilled into the back of your throat via your likely now broken nose, you tried to crawl backwards, but couldn’t the pain in your ankle too great. The creature was right above you now, drool and slime dripping down onto your face as they wriggled around. Closing your eyes to brace a loud explosion sound rung out, all parts of your face and exposed skin suddenly covered in sticky and warm liquid. Cracking an eye open, you saw the body of the creature as it hit the ground. 

Looking down at yourself, you were wearing blood and teeth and other viscera that had splattered against you. Your hand shakily reached into your tank top feeling at the squishy thing that landed in your bra. 

Bile worked its way out of you upon discovering the eyeball in your hand, tossing it before losing the rest of your stomach contents out onto the open ground. In too much shock and shaking, your vision went black as you slipped into unconsciousness. 

~~~~~~~~~

Head reeling you refused to open your eyes, purposefully scrunching them shut against the invading sunlight. You felt like you’d been hit by a bus, every part of you was either sore or stung. As your brain slowly started coming to, the first thing you realized was the smell – out of place but familiar. That spicy and intense cologne – Leon?

‘But why would Leon be in your tent?’ The image of the blonde appeared in your mind making you giggle a moment. Then it occurred to you, you were fully conscious. Confused you opened one eye and then the other, wincing as they adjusted to the light. 

It wasn’t your tent. It wasn’t even your apartment. You sat up as quickly as your mangled body would allow, heart rate picking up again. “Hey there, you’re finally awake.” Snapping to the door you saw him there, a look of concern on his face. “Leon?” “In the flesh.” He said softly making his way over to you, sitting on the side of the bed. “Where am I?” “In my apartment. How are you feeling?” “What happened?” “I was hoping you could tell me that. You called me frantic, when I finally found you, you were hurt and completely out of it. Had to pull some connections to make sure the hospital would even let me take you home.” “What? Where’s Derek?” “Who are you talking about sweetheart?” “Derek? My boyfriend, he and I were camping and he had a cold and then he turned into a monster and…and…” “Shhhh.” He soothed, rubbing your back. “Hey, its okay, you’re safe now there’s no monsters. You’re okay, I’m here.” He adjusted himself so he could pull you closer into him encompassing you with his warmth and frame. 

The weight of his arms around you and the sound of his voice soothed you frantic mumbling as you sobbed into his chest, wetting the cotton fabric with snot and tears. He paid no mind, not letting up on the affection until it died down into sniffles and hiccups. You clung to him like a koala to a tree, desperate to feel better in some way, so overwhelmed with everything. 

Sleep quickly overtook you again, sleeping into dreamless unconsciousness against his form.

As always this is inspired by @explorevenus fic Something Permanent as well as @gigabyte-flare, @girldungeon, and @lipglossanon's work. @elfven-blog was so kind as to help find the banner pics. Love them all, go check out their work.

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[just-antithings]

proshippers r funny to me because of the degree to which yall just lie. "we always tag our content correctly" no the fuck you dont ive been in the world you cannot trick me, trying to filter out all the ""shotacon"" when i still used ao3 was a nightmare because even when it wasnt split between 2293809 different euphemisms which changed frequently as everyone else started realizing "old man/younger man" was being used for like a 6 year old kid instead of age gaps between adults which outside of your roleplay most people do have a different stance on than pedophilia, and people constantly just posting 5 yr old/20 yr old porn ageddown porn of canon adults with zero relevant tags. this has been my experience in all of fandom, telling a proshipper that they need to avoid posting untagged graphic rape porn in tags for shounen is apparently as painful as having your leg sawed off from how people react to it. you have posts insisting that it is at all reasonable for an ao3 user who doesnt want to see pedophilia should simply filter out every possible shotacon ship which is what i did so i can tell you thats incredibly unreasonable because that number is generally in the thousands, doesn't count as "tagging correctly", and also DOESN'T WORK because again people will just not tag shit or do agedown porn without tagging it so you can be in the tag of a ship for characters who are 50 and 60 in canon when lo and behold AU porn where the older one is babysitting the younger one and theyre 20 and 10, no tags except "Au - babysitter". like tbc i do think that even if you have the minimum balls to tag your adult raping a kid porn "pedophilia" you should still be criticized for that which i know the main conceit of the anti anti movement is pretending is worse than murder, but its wild how often people let yall just lie that tagging correctly is the universal or even a common standard. thats not even getting into the fact that ao3 doesn't let you select tags to automatically filter so you have to type in every individual tag you want out every single time you do a search. but no everyone should have to spend 4 hours theorizing every possible way you could weasel words your way around describing an adult having sexual intercourse with a child and then individually type em all in just so they can see read old men fucking without one of them being turned into a middle schooler. like with every other anit anti talking point it runs into the ultimate problem that yall are lazy assholes who are in this community in the first place because youre so allergic to compassion you can only tolerate people esp children if youre jacking off to them and so any measure yall claim you take for the good of others is ultimately a lie. also i still havent forgotten all those times you defended irl pedophilia or that one time you said you had a kneejerk reaction to discredit someone talking about a case study of irl csa by defending the pedophile and blamed "antis" instead of the fact that you spend all day every day defending being attracting to children. which is much worse, obviously

[dranna]

Movie Night with Ken

AO3 / Commissions / Links /

Warnings: fluff, tiny tiny angst, hurt/comfort, feeling excluded, sobbing, not beta read

Summary: Ken planned a special night to watch a horsey movie with you. But when emotions starts bubbling up due to the film, he gets insecure.

a/n: I watched this movie for the first time a few days ago, and I fell in love with this silly. (I'm still practising writing and english is not my first language, so I apologise for mistakes) ((lowkey nervous posting this ))

tags my beloveds: @ken-dom

Moon was shining,

Stars were singing,

All the clouds went sleeping.

It was a quiet evening,

Notley as quiet as Los Angeles can be,

When Ken was busy arranging things,

He thought were important for his doings.

You two were in your home,

That Ken called Dojo Mojo.

You still remembered the time,

Caughting him red handed as he tried,

To hide something from your sight.

“What you got there dear?”

“I-it’s nothing..

It’s stupid really haha..”

— as he moved,

You saw a picture of—

“Horses?

Is that what you tried to hide from me? “

“ … yes.”

“ Oh you silly!

Come,

Tell me about them, everything.”

“ Really?!”

— And with that,

He started telling you all things,

About horse riding and races,

While you let him to put,

That beloved picture on the wall.

Right now as he was organising your Dojo,

He looked at the canvas many times,

As if collecting confidence from its sight.

He checked everything twice,

Because he wanted to make everything perfectly fine.

You were waiting patiently in the kitchen,

Stealing secret looks towards that working man.

After he found everything flawless,

He escorted you in your bedchamber,

The room was casted with a pinkish light,

Burning candles on the bedsides.

“My idea was.. I thought,

That we can watch,

The horse movie together,

Spirit: the Stallion of the Cinnamon!”

“It’s Cimarron”

— You laughed,

As you saw him all so excited.

Standing on tiptoes,

And taking a breath,

You kissed his little face,

That made his cheeks scarlety red.

“So it’s a sleepover?”

“Yes”

— with your reply,

He punched the air,

Jumping up and down in a merry way.

“Sublime!”

The two of you were on the bed,

That Ken insisted to be decorated with pinkness,

Buried under pillow forts and blankets,

Flushed together in sweetness.

There wasn’t a quiet minute,

Because Ken was talking horse facts,

And exhale his delights and surprises.

How you loved to see him that way,

Comfortable and talkative!

You could’ve listen to his silly little things for hours,

So you can see his adorable smile,

Accompanied with giggles,

Which were music in the night.

The movie was progressing,

So as the plot,

And you noticed a silence that covered you both,

As the end credits rolled you turned,

To see what’s wrong.

He sank deeper into the soft covers,

Turning away from you,

“Ken?”

— You called softly his name,

Resulting in him sinking even further away,

Something is wrong,

But what?

So you gently touched,

His carved shoulders.

If it wasn’t for the contract you would never know,

But shivers were running through,

His perfect beach-ready form.

“What’s the matter?

I thought the movie wasn’t that bad!”

“ He got free.. after all the h-hardships,

And ..found l-love!

Someone who ap-ppreciates him—“

A sudden sob cut him short,

Making him turn away even more,

“Ken, there is nothing wrong with crying.”

“You think so?”

“Yes I do”

—With that ,

You pulled him up from the deep Bluness,

Tugging him into a cosy embrace,

Filling his chest with warmness.

Silly silly Ken thought,

That showing “weakness”,

Would resort,

You realising he isn’t Kenough,

That he is a pathetic, unworthy doll,

And would be yet again left alone,

In the footsteps of yours.

Of course,

You would never leave this cutie pie behind,

You only want to see him shine.

With your arms around his hot body,

And the praises from your lips,

He finally started to relax and let,

His emotions to wash over his head,

With teary puppy eyes,

He started to tell headcanons of his mind.

With your blooming love,

You two were a peaceful island among,

The noisy streets and haste,

Where only the night sky,

Could hear Ken’s movie ideas.

He just talked and talked until he felt,

The magical visit of dreamland.

Sleep came and hid you both,

Under that horsy picture,

Which watched over you two.