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#and who isn’t absolutely fuming?
mrsaltieri-real · 6 months
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Oh yeah absolutely fuck Scream 7, fuck Paramount fuck the producers Melissa and Jenna solo
Facts. It’s the audacity they have to now try and meatride Neve Campbell to come back after not paying her what she was worth in the first place because they’ve realised how much they’ve fucked up. I hope Neve tells them to go and fuck themselves. They could’ve paid her from the start but NO. They fired Melissa for standing up for what’s RIGHT and then people got rightfully angry and now are trying to throw money at Neve to ensure Scream 7’s a success (it’ll FLOP)
Melissa and Neve deserve so much fucking better.
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goldfish-afterhours · 5 months
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Genshin Characters Apologizing After a Bad Fight
Characters: Diluc, Childe, Kaeya, Zhongli x Gn!reader
Type/genre: Bulleted headcanons, angst/hurt comfort?
Warnings: Curse words, probably not the healthiest coping mechanisms/apologies
Diluc
His apology comes out strained, as if the words are clinging to the back of his throat
His fists are clenched tight by his side. He prepares himself for you to yell, to scream at him
But you don’t even turn around to look at him
Diluc always saw you as his rock, his lighthouse in the stormy night, the one who keeps him steady as his duties of both vineyard owner and vigilante shake him back and forth like a ragdoll
But right now, it hits him for the first time how small your back is, how human you look
Has he been taking you for granted all this time?
When you don’t respond to his apology, he calls your name, and you finally turn around
His eyes widen when he sees the tears streaming down your face
His heart absolutely breaks. How could he have made you, his love, his everything, hurt this much?
Before either of you says anything, Diluc flies towards you, cradling your head gently in his arms, as if any slight pressure would cause you to break and shatter like glass
“How pathetic of me to make you cry. I’m so sorry.”
Childe
His heart could rival the weight of the world right now
Childe isn’t used to disappointing others. No, he’s always been the golden boy, the prodigy, the one who sets the bar and breaks it at the same time
So how come you are sitting with your back to him, refusing to say a word?
And why can’t he find it in himself to say something, anything, to make this better?
He is petty person, someone willing to drown an entire city rather than admit defeat. Any word of apology is almost impossible to force out of him.
Instead, he drops a book in front of you. It flips to a random page, and you can see the photos and names of people listed on it
Not unlike a cat bringing their owner a mouse, this was Childe’s form of an apology, even without the actual words being uttered.
“Choose any person from this book. I’ll bring you their head.”
Kaeya
His fingers are restless, constantly scratching the back of his hand or twisting each other
His jaw is clenched, shoulders slumped forwards as he refuses to look you in the eye
“I…I was wrong. I’m sorry.”
You knew that Kaeya had a hard time with apologizing—not because he was arrogant and thought he could do no wrong, but the emotional and physical toll it took on him was great
He often finds himself caught in a dilemma
On one hand, he has a difficult time admitting he is wrong as it forces him into a vulnerable position. To be wrong is shameful, an embarrassment.
On the other hand, he knows he fucked up. And he knows there are only a very few amount of fuck ups people let slide before they get fed up and leave.
And having you leave is not something he can afford
Kaeya’s seen this before. Faced again and again with abandonment, he knows a simple “I’m sorry” is not enough to make most people stay
But it is all he can offer
He prepares himself for the worst, but he was not prepared for the way you gently lifted his chin with your hands, a soft kiss melting away his fears
Zhongli
When you slam the door to your room, Zhongli doesn’t try to stop you
He doesn’t knock on your door, nor does he try to coax you out
He knows your type of anger—it’s like fire, and feeding premature apologies or sweet nothings would only fan the flames
So he sits outside your door until you’re ready to come out
Slips you snacks and books from under your door, in case you get hungry or bored in your anger
When you see the treats and novels slowly appear from under the door, you’re still fuming, but it’s difficult to be furious knowing your thoughtful lover is on the other side, not pushing you to calm down but trying to make you comfortable as you sit with your anger.
When you finally calm down enough to unlock the door and step outside, Zhongli is waiting
There is not a trace of annoyance on his face, but you can tell he relaxes a little from relief that you are willing to come speak with him again
Takes your hands in his, giving them a gentle squeeze as he apologizes for his behaviour earlier.
“Please accept my apology, my love. I never meant to hurt you.”
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"It’s no longer 1937… she’s not gonna be saved by the prince." 
The absolute DISRESPECT for the FIRST ANIMATED MOVIE EVER MADE and its female character who was strong in her own way! The DISRESPECT for Snow White coming from people who plan to """update""" her story??? I'm FUMING. i am FURIOUS. This is the SAME shit I said about Girlboss Cinderella do you understand???
Snow White was an abused CHILD who was isolated within her castle and then suddenly thrown into the  woods and she managed to survive using only her hope and kindness!!! She found a house and offered to work to earn her keep and she DID!!! Snow does not have to be a badass to be a strong female character. And more importantly, SHE DOES NOT NEED TO BE "BADASS" TO DESERVE HER HAPPY ENDING. Some of us in abusive situations CANNOT escape on our own. We CANNOT physically fight back and WE STILL DESERVE HAPPY ENDINGS.
Women don't have to be badasses in order to be strong female characters. So she needs to be saved-- so WHAT? Saying Snow White is an antifeminist character solely because she doesn't save herself is offensive to abuse survivors and to the original character who WAS a good character. You can criticize OTHER parts of the movie– the implication that men living without women will be useless and filthy the entire time, or we can discuss the Queen’s feud with Snow being fuelled by misogynist standards, etc.!! But just saying “she needs to be saved so it’s bad” LIKE. ARE YOU SERIOUS
Badass Snow White reboots are fine in moderation, but just like Girlboss Cinderella reboots, too many and it becomes clear what society is trying to say now- that if you're feminine and can't fight a battle, you don't deserve to be saved. Do you see why this is a bad message????? Some girls are badasses who can kill and fight as well as or better than the boys. Those girls have Mulan, Merida, Raya, Moana, Rapunzel, Elsa. They are good female characters. But you know what? So is Snow White. So is Cinderella.
I'm sure people are going to accuse me of being antifeminist for saying “oh she NEEDS to be saved by a man”– I’m NOT SAYING THAT. You could have her be saved by a woman. Be saved by the dwarves, her platonic friends. By the animals. You could write a badass Snow White reboot without being disrespectful to the original film or tale. Just fucking TODAY I read the Disney Mirrorverse Snow White book– it’s written for 13yos basically so not high art but even with them having to make her an adaptational badass, they managed to keep her personality PERFECTLY. She learns how to save herself in this book, but also remains HERSELF. And her previous inability to fight was NOT CRITICIZED by any character; her sudden badassery was a bonus for her, not an indication of her character!!!
YOU are the ones saying that if Snow White (and Cinderella) isn't saving herself, she doesn't deserve to be saved. But everyone deserves happiness and that includes those too weak to fight for it alone.
anyway that was a long feminist rant. this is also super disrespectful to the FIRST ANIMATED MOVIE EVER, the people who worked on it, Walt Disney himself, and everyone who enjoyed or was inspired by it. You absolute fucking dickheads.
also can't believe i have to say this but if y'all use this as an excuse to be racist towards anyone in the cast i will hunt you down and put shoelaces in your lungs
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Girl dad Astarion who is mourning the times when his biggest problem was coming up with more or less child-friendly excuses to not read yet another bedtime story. Or to fix the dress of a shabby old doll that gave him the creeps. Or to kiss some scratches better, even though the minuscule wounds usually troubled him more than they did the damn child. 
Nobody ever told him that children grow up this fucking fast, okay?
But now he has to watch his darling little girl grow into a beautiful young woman, and he is—quite frankly—terrified for her. 
Because wherever he looks, he can see that strangers are watching her, too. 
It doesn’t even bother him that they notice his daughter’s beauty, no, you would have to be blind not to see it. She’s stunning—obviously. She's his child after all…and Tav’s, of course, but that’s not the point. 
It’s the way they're looking at the girl that disgusts Astarion to his very core. Leering eyes following her every move. Ulterior motives buried under layers of false niceties. Seemingly innocent little touches stolen as if those filthy hands were entitled to her body in any way. 
And for all their obnoxious gawking, they don’t even see her. They seldom care for his daughter’s talents, her sense of humour, or her intelligence. Her heart.
Those heads are only turning for a pretty face, and for all the small privileges that might afford her, they always come with a price—a price Astarion has paid once upon a time; a price he doesn’t ever want his daughter to even consider accepting.
But the world is not kind. It’s already leaving scratches on his child that neither he nor Tav can kiss better any longer. 
And Astarion hates it because the last time he felt this helpless was when his own pretty face was all that kept him, well, as alive as he could be. A thing to be used for other people's gain. Selling himself out for crumbs.
And then, one day, he notices a new bracelet on his daughter’s wrist. 
She happily hands it over to him so he can take a look. Then she tells him some stranger gifted it to her. Just like that! 
All they wanted for it was a little smile—isn’t that so great, father? 
It’s not. Far from it. Astarion is fuming inside. 
How dare some random nitwit think that ugly trinket worthy of his daughter’s wonderful smile? The audacity. The nerve. Unbelievable! 
“Darling, it’s not a gift if they’re expecting something in return,” a forced smile tugs at his lips, trying to soften his scolding tone.
It doesn’t work.
“But it’s so pretty, I had to have it!” 
The girl sulks, her little nose scrunched up as if he just sent her to bed without her fairy tales. Astarion supposes, in a way, he has.
“And what do we do when we see something we want, dear?” 
She rolls her eyes at him in a way that always has Tav cackling up. Maybe it's because, in moments like this, she looks a little too much like her father. 
“We just pocket it.”
“Exactly, my darling child, we just pocket it,” Astarion nods approvingly. “And if they ask for a smile next time?”
“We stab them,” she sighs.
“Absolutely, we do. Now, off with you, lest your daggers get all rusty, you lazy duck.” 
Ending the discussion with a gentle smile, Astarion watches the girl go before he produces the offending bracelet from his sleeve. 
It’s always out of sight, out of mind with pretty things, isn't it?
He takes another look at the bracelet, scrunching up his nose as if it gave off a particularly vile smell. In a way, it does.
In fact, it’s giving Astarion the creeps. And it's not even made from real gold, by the way.
Astarion scoffs at the cheap trinket. This child still has so much to learn.  
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stvolanis · 4 months
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ok ive seen you do farleigh start being the sweetest bf ever, but now do farleigh being a BULLY
oh my gosh i feel like REALISTICALLY, if Farleigh was in a relationship w/ someone he’d be such a tease/asshole!!! But like in an annoying boyfriend kind of way💕
Mean! Farleigh Start! Who you’ve been in a relationship with for a little over a year.
Mean! Farleigh Start! Who goes out of his way to completely torment you. Putting things on higher shelves, just to laugh at you when you get onto the counter to reach it, but end up falling off. Of course, he’ll ask if you’re okay like a good boyfriend, but he’d still continue laughing while helping you back up.
“Stupid girl.” He’d Mutter with an eye roll. Yet, he secretly liked when you came to him when you were in distress.
Mean! Farleigh Start! Who moves your clothes out of the bathroom, including your towel while you’re showering just to be able to see you naked with water dripping down your pretty body. You complain to him about how your freezing, but all he does is stare at you.
Mean! Farleigh Start! Who isn’t abusive, at all, and is an amazing boyfriend—but does get a little rough when you pass by and he lays a heavy hand on your ass, making you wince. Or when you say something bratty and he’ll reach over and grab your throat, just to make sure you know who’s the one in control a little too tight.
Mean! Farleigh Start! Who loves to pick on you over your sensitivity. “Such a crybaby.” He’d mock as you sniffled against him, rubbing your watery eyes as you watch the most reasonable movie to cry to, “the notebook”.
Mean! Farleigh Start! Who sometimes doesn’t take your emotions about certain things seriously. For example, when he failed to remember the exact kind of dog you told him you wanted when you had randomly asked him if he remembered. He’d click his tongue in annoyance. “Okay, how am I supposed to remember that?” He’d defend, but get annoyed when you make a big deal out of it. (You’re kinda extra)
Mean! Farleigh Start! Who adores his little girlfriend, always so needy for him and his approval. You make him feel wanted and appreciated; his little sunshine. But, he would never say any of that outloud till he was on his deathbed. He liked that you chased for him, as toxic as it was.
Mean! Farleigh Start! Who will 100% bully you, but makes sure you know he loves you. But dear god, forbid someone says something to you he doesn’t like—have mercy on their soul (and I’m not even religious). He has a mouth on him he uses to talk shit, so best believe he has some hands on him too that he isn’t afraid to use. Only he can’t torment you.
Mean! Farleigh Start! Who fucks you like he hates you. Slapping, spitting, choking, biting, etc. He’ll whispers the most vile things to you while he pounds into your sopping cunt. “Such a fuckin’ slut, aren’t you? Always beggin’ f’my cock like a bitch in heat.” He’d coo at you mockingly, his breath fanning your neck.
Mean! Farleigh Start! Who uses you as a stress reliever when he’s mad. Say Oliver pissed him off by fooling Felix into doing some random shit, he’d come into your shared room absolutely fuming. “Knees. Now.” Is all he’d have to mutter before you’re on your knees between his delicious thighs, hair in a ponytail. He loved your obedience.
Mean! Farleigh Start! Who lowkey hates that you have a life outside of him cause like—what do you mean youre going out with Venetia? So he makes sure to remind you that he’s the only one who’ll treat you as good as he does before you leave by fucking you silly, cum dripping down your thighs.
Mean! Farleigh Start! Who’s your biggest bully, but also your biggest supporter. Yes, he’ll make fun of you for a lot of stuff, but he’ll always make sure you know he loves you by little gestures like giving you things that remind him of you, getting your favorite food when you’re upset, etc. and it warms your little heart.
Mean! Farleigh Start! Who goes a little too far one day with his taunting and mocking, to the point where you’re locked in the bathroom wiping your tears with your sleeves. “Baby, yknow im just messin’ around. Come out, Princess.” He’d say as he rattled the door handle. Never an apology leaving his mouth.
Mean! Farleigh Start! Who bribes you to come out by promising to take you on a little shopping spree to your favorite make-up store, and obviously you come out cause like, who would pass up an offer like that? Not you, that’s for sure.
Mean! Farleigh Start! Who fucks you softer that night. Instead of slurs in your ear, you’re met with a few praises and tender kisses against your sweaty skin. He holds you after and doesn’t apologize, but you know that he’s sorry. And thats enough for you.
Mean Farleigh Start! Whos considerably nicer to you than other people. With you, at least, he tries to have a filter. He doesn’t with other people. He’s an absolute menace to society, no one is safe when it comes to his harassment, except for you. He’s not always an asshole to you, he can be sweet sometimes.
don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request things!!
TAG LIST: @elvisalltheway101 @epthedream69 @claire-elvisgirl @elvisrealgf @littlehoneyposts @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo @luxuriouslokistan-3 @foxevxid @salepso @parkbabyj
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privitivium · 3 months
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Big buff bossy gangster just bumping into Subtop M reader one day and suddenly becoming obsessed with them to the point where M reader has no choice but to submit to his advances cause if not well he's dead. Subtop M reader has to admit tho that he loves fucking him especially in risky places cause seeing him trying to keep his voice down satisfies Subtop M reader especially with his tiddies bouncing with each thrust
-⚰️
i absolutely adore your writings :)) and no need to rush alright? i'm willing to wait haha
thank you dear coffin, i adore you......
yes…..….. this is refreshing. 💥💥🌹these are ideas. thoughts…… i might post more of this guy as an actual full-fledged fic where he actually stalks you as i enjoy big breast men 💥💥💥🌹🌹🌹must… must write more to be more… detailed…. uaghugh
amab bossy gangster x amab m reader
pt 2 rambles :3 cw;; dubcon, exhibition, stalker - yandere tendences?
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love at first sight… for him at least. a towering muscly dude with visible scars here and there along his “handsome” face with layered platinum blond hair doing his rounds with a couple of lackeys… unintentionally not looking where he was goingㅡ
ㅡ“oh, whoopsie.. you alright, man?” cautious not to put your hands on the other person who accidentally stepped on your foot and took a slight tumble; swallowing thickly, comedically as the man raises to his full height without a word - towering over you with his pecs center to your eyes, some big platinum blond muscleheadㅡ“haha… y-ou … you alright?” you offer your hand, even if he was already standing and most certainly did not need your help -
“fine.” he waves you off, leaving wordlessly but not before giving you a nasty glower. uagh, jeez.. what's that guy's problem? not like you were looking to instigate or something but still… you obviously did not mean to trip him! didnt he see how sympathetic you were just then? some people…
unbeknownst to you, he was fuming. that was how your first official meeting went?! argh!! his companions, his lackeys noting his upset and commenting on the matter ; “what's the matter? you wanna go back n’ pummel that guy, boss?” 
“no, no…” the hulking mass of muscle shakes his head - thin layers of platinum blond hair, waving his hand dismissively while seeming to be in thought - stalling down the walkway and making a swift turn down a narrow alleyway, knuckleheads following close behind. “that's… my lover. my fated one to be, you idiots. how can you not see that?” 
ㅡhe’s delusional, his lackeys realize. but feed into it anyway. in the lair, a rundown two story house where he was answering questions and fiddling with several pictures taken of you just hours later. a quick question of “how can ya’ tell that's yer fated one to be??!” an excited pawn queried. the big boss man going off on an equally excited tangent - a happy explanation about how he doesn't even know. all he knows is that he took one look at your tripping sorry ass and immediately wanted to get down on his knees, uncaring if it was in the middle of a busy sidewalk..
or it could… be the something like, muscly bossy gangster runs into you a few times instead,,, neither of you forgetting one another because for you, it's a big ass intimidating guy who glares at you and nearly makes you piss your pants how can you not forgetㅡand for him - he's literally orchestrating his schedule around yours just to be bumping into you like this. tapping your phone, keeping you tracked through a device or having several of his companions follow you around…
and then, him. finally showing up to your fucking home on a friday night - 11 pm. forcing his way into your apartment and ignoring how terrified you looked and showing you all the pictures he took of you. like aren't you the cutest ? and you… staring at him, teary eyed and sniffling because you obviously cant fight back against this fucking behemoth who you accidentally tripped… this is your day of reckoning isn’t it…. dead if you do, dead if you don't, huh. well. eyeing his fat chest, looking over his stocky build.. this guy's in love with you that badly?! then.. he could never hurt you right…? haha… a spineless creature such as you submitting that easily, you can't help yourself and you cant blame yourself!!!
ㅡ"shh-sh..” he hisses softly, grunting as he fluidly jerks at your hardened prick over your jeans - your back pressed against a wall in a maze of alleyways. of course, its the go-to.. who are you to deny this bossy ass gangster when he wants to be fucked??? asking you so nicely… ( literally pulling you from the eyes of the public wordlessly. who was gonna say anything anyway??? they know of him and his status….) whimpering softly - music to his ears. wishing he could be recording this audio for his own needy purposes of jerking off to your shrine he made… plunging himself on your pre-cum and saliva lathered cock… it was mesmerizing. pulling up his shirt to reveal his abdomen - no complaint from the hulking bossy bitch as you fondle his chest. before he was switching positions and pressing his front into the wall and allowing you to hump into him at a lazy languid pace while groping at his meaty body underneath his tight-fitted shirt. he… has to remind you of who's the one in charge… “keep it down..” he reminds breathlessly, a grin spreading across his face as he pushes his hips back into you ㅡ deliberately clenching his gummy walls around yr meaty, aching dick - 
ㅡ“what's this?” 
“uhh… our conversation?” you squint, glancing between the hulking mass pining you and his hand holding his tiny phone - his hand was just … huge. displaying your messages, where he was the last one to send a message?
he inhales sharply at your obliviousness, huffing in obvious indignation - pushing you harder against the wall without intent. “you left me on seen.” he stresses the last word. did you?? he was nearly snarling like an animal with rabies. “why??” god, this guy is like an insecure girlfriend but 10 times worse. 
“... i got uh.. distractedㅡ” you squirm, avoiding eye contactㅡ
"distracted with what?” he intrudes, leaning inward - you could faintly smell a hint of mint and.. what is thatㅡcinnamon? what's this guy's problem, eating sweets and harrassing you?! and just a quick glance down would tell you everything you need to know. how awkward… do you even tell him or does he know that he's bulging? it throws you off… acting so moody but bricked up??? that's laughable and you can't help yourself. b-but you can't exactly laugh in good humor, hypnotized by the way his squishy pecs bounce up and down with his hole clamping on your cock ㅡ telling you in-between ragged breaths never to ignore him - yes, yes honey never in my life i will do such a thing, mhm..
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elexaria · 3 months
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poly!ghoap x reader except we’re following canon and johnny has died. the apartment feels empty without his sunshine personality in it. simon’s bed just feels lonely, cold and desolate. after a week, he finally lets you snuggle up to him in his bed and it honestly makes him emotional because … it still isn’t the same. it’s not the same as having johnny there :(
and you miss him too, fuck you miss him like crazy. having someone to talk absolute drivel with, someone who always stands behind you, hands wrapped around your waist as he buries his face in the small of your neck :( you love simon, but he’s not like johnny. he’s not as outwardly affectionate, he doesn’t do sweet talking the same. you both just miss your johnny boy.
and the raw, emotional sex that finally comes almost a month after johnny has passed… it hits different. waves of intense emotion and pleasure ebbing throughout your bodies, simon’s blurry eyes slowly shutting as he holds onto your body, almost as if he fears you’ll leave him too. in the grieving process, neither of you have had the chance to spend time with one another— simon had lost his soulmate, after all. you return the same clinginess as simon, arms wrapped tightly around the back of his neck as you sniffle, feeling overwhelmed by the warmth of his body and his vulnerability.
you two never truly heal over johnny’s traumatic passing, but you learn how to live with it. after all, johnny would be fuming you two were still wallowing around the apartment. just bone already 🙄
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hariboz · 10 months
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. . . YOU’RE WHO?
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“their reactions to someone calling themselves your work husband in front of them!”
pairing: zb1 hyung line x gn!reader
genre: fluff <3, humour
warning: pretty lighthearted, light cursing
notes: hi hello this is my first post!! congrats to my jebewon for debuting 🥹 as a pre-bp stan i’m so happy to see them so loved and well received 🫶🏻 ALSO ty to my jebis for reigniting my love for writing <3 i’d love to find some zerose moots!! just hit me up, either in my dms or my asks <33
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✦ * 💭 ⊹ 김지웅 ; JIWOONG
ooooh cocky bastard!! (lovingly)
kind of cocks his head to the side and just goes, “hm?”…😮‍💨
pretends he doesn’t get it but he actually just wants to see the guy’s face crumble while your coworker is scrambling to explain
“oh it’s just a joke between us—“ and the guy tries to throw his arm over your shoulder but jiwoong is quicker and pulls you into his side
makes a show of wrapping his arm around you, giving you the most dazzling smile, just amping up the charisma and charm
refuses to leave your side the whole evening and interjects every time your ‘work husband’ tries to talk to you
makes your female coworkers swoon from afar!! makes you two look so lovey-dovey and your ‘work husband’ is d y i n g inside the whole evening
gives the guy a firm handshake when you bid your goodbyes and hits him with the “i’m the only husband around here, i think,” SOMEONE TAKE HIM AWAY IMMEDIATELY!!
genuinely does not care as long as the guy treats you fine and isn’t being creepy towards you
almost treats the guy like a kid that has a crush on you when you bring him up when you talk about your day 😭
keeps teasing you afterwards, brings it up for fun every time and thinks he’s soooooo funny
“woongie you can’t just—“ “well, you have a whole husband on the side—“ someone shut him uppppp!!
✦ * 💭 ⊹ 장하오 ; HAO
oh he loves it, but not in the “oh this is cute” way but rather in the “this is great, we’ll have so much to laugh at later on our way home,” way
kind of eggs you on to feed into him…to see how far the guy will go…
“oh really? that’s so sweet!” “you never told me about this husband of yours, honey..”
you just wanna 🦵 👨🏻
the guy fails to pick up on the sarcasm that practically drips from hao’s voice and gets more confident in his comments towards you…
oh he’s evil!! but also steps in if it goes too far; he might enjoy the entertainment but no one gets to disrespect his relationship to his face!!
the atmosphere kind of dips when your coworker offers to take you home when you mention that you’re getting tired to hao, since it’s “his job as a husband”
hao looks at you in utter disbelief like?? did that guy just insinuate what he thinks he was insinuating….while hao’s right there…?!
worst stink eye you’ve ever seen from hao just staring daggers into the guy 😭
takes your hand and says goodbye to everyone except for your ‘work husband’ and when you look back before getting out the door you can just see the guy absolutely fuming
“never speak to him again.” “i work with him…every day…” “i don’t care!!”
is genuinely concerned that the guy is being weird to you but covers it up with some lighthearted jealousy to make you laugh :’)
“hao, i got you some treats on my way home!” “how do i know these aren’t just your husbands left overs…” you hate him
“you should start calling him the office divorcee.” BYE
✦ * 💭 ⊹ 성한빈 ; HANBIN
hates it but no one is none the wiser with the way he politely smiles and laughs along
except for you!! you know him and you can see the irritation building up behind his smile
all 😆 on the outside but very much 😒 on the inside
you try to reassure him but he’s just like, “i’m fine! this is fine! i’m so glad you have such a close friend at work!” when you can just see him dying inside
your coworker hears this and tries to interject ‘jokingly’ and hits hanbin with the, “well actually we’re not just friends—“ but you elbow him to get him to shut up like!! bro who do you think you are!!
the friendly look on hanbin’s face falters for just a second but you can just tell he’s seething inside
so you sneak him a little kiss and he lightens up just a little <3
he just wants to leave and take you home and cuddle with you he’s so sick and tired of this random ass man playing pretend with his partner!!
but he doesn’t want to make a scene!! because he’s scared it would make you look bad if your actual boyfriend lashes out over a ‘joke’ so he just…smiles and endures it 🫠
looks the happiest you have seen him all day when you tell him it’s time to leave, has a spring in his step and beams at everyone when bidding his goodbyes lmao
remains super suspicious of that coworker!! essentially perks up when you mention him like 🤨 just waiting for you to tell him he did something weird so he can finally march over there and let him have it!!
genuinely tells you that he doesn’t like how the guy calls himself your husband and you promise you’ll tell him off if he ever utters the word husband in your vicinity again and hanbin’s just giggling and smiley like 🥰 yes thank you bb
✦ * 💭 ⊹ 석매튜 ; MATTHEW
immediately picks up on the joking nature of it and actually brushes it off at first!
it’s just a joke!! and it’s kinda cute, right? who is he to assume any nefarious business!! just a joke!!
…right? right?!
but his mood gets sour rather quickly when your coworker keeps lingering around you two..when he keeps trying to butt into your conversations…bringing up stuff that happened at work that matthew has no idea about…
he’s stuck to you like glue and matt’s getting a little irritated to be honest?? there’s so many other people here, why does he keep circling back to you when your boyfriend is here??
when he interrupts you two being all cute and giggling again, matt kinda loses it but not in a confrontational way!
“man, is there no one else you can bother? maybe an actual partner instead of trying to hog mine??”
your coworker is speechless, staring at you two and you have to try so hard to bite back a laugh
he leaves huffing and puffing and you’re pretty sure he’ll ignore you at work from now but!!
it’s all worth it when matthew turns to you and you both burst out in giggles, matt mimicking the face the guy made to make you laugh <3
the guy keeps glaring at you two the whole night but you barely even notice during your fits of laughter w your boyfriend <3
starts jokingly calling himself your house husband to triumph over the work husband!! will bring you a cup of coffee at home, give you a little kiss to your temple and mutter a “10 points for the house husband” to hear you giggle 😵‍💫
✦ * 💭 ⊹ 김태래 ; TAERAE
hates it, wants to ban the words “y/n” and “work husband” from ever being used in one sentence ever again
who does he think he is…taerae is right there?
asks you if this is a common occurrence and if he should help you report him to hr 😭
when you tell him he previously never said anything of this sort he’s almost more peeved..? why is he bringing this up NOW when taerae is here!!
simply cannot comprehend the sheer audacity of that man and doesn’t even try to hide it!! he’ll flat out cackle at everything your other coworkers say but not a single peep from taerae when your “work husband” cracks a joke
ooooh he’s so petty and makes sure to keep you away from him the whole evening too…oh you wanna chat w my y/n? my bad we actually have to go to the bathroom. together. see ya!
has a hand on you at all times now!! no way that guy will catch him lacking. hand holding yours, hand on your waist, hand on your neck, hand on your thigh, pinkies intertwined…oh you’re so in love it’s almost hard to watch how lovely you look
pulls you in to give you a kiss when the guy approaches to say goodbye and just gives up when he sees ya’ll locking lips…1:0 to your boyfriend
cheers when the guy leaves 😮‍💨
makes sure you know you should absolutely speak up if he bothers you, and offers to pick you up from work more often to hammer home the fact that you’re off the market <3
puts on a show when he picks you up, pulls up with flowers and gives you a big smooch while raising a brow at the guy…almost challenging him…oh he’s sick
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luvrxbunny · 8 months
Text
rough day
Pairing: Steven Grant x F!Reader
Prompt: Deepthroating
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, i don't think theres anything? (lmk if I forgot something)
WC: 1.5k
A/N: *crying* (not proofread)
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You’re alerted of your boyfriend’s presence by a slam of the door and a frustrated huff of air. You feel bad at the tiny drop of fear that ripples through you when you realize it must be Marc who’s home. It’s not that you don’t like Marc, you know he’s a nice guy, it’s just that he’s a bit scary and you were expecting Steven. 
You take a deep breath and walk into his line of sight, but you’re shocked to see him in Steven’s attire, even more so when he looks at you and you can tell it’s Steven. “Hi, baby! What- Are you okay?” You ask softly. You watch him yank at his tie to loosen it and just drop it onto the ground, muttering to himself as he kicks his shoes off. He doesn’t seem to notice you until he goes to put his bag down. “Oh. Hey, love. Sorry, what?”
You smile sadly at him and take his bag, carrying it to its rightful place. “I asked if you were okay, Stevie.” You turn to him running a hand through his hair and unbuttoning his shirt, a stressed sigh falling from his lips in the process. “Fuckin’ Dina.” He spits her name out with a surprising amount of venom, uncharacteristically hateful, but you agree. 
You’ve heard his countless stories about how horrible she is to him, how rude, and disrespectful she is just because she’s his boss. You’ve witnessed it firsthand when you go to visit him, you’ve felt her dirty stare on you as you’re smiling, and laughing with Steven right before she snaps at him to get back to work. Today is probably no different, although he’s a bit more angry than usual. 
You still have that sad smile on your face as he opens his shirt and sits on the bed with a sigh. “So I miss the bus again, righ’? Because of course, I would, an’ I’m trying to explain that to ‘er but she jus’ won’t let me get a word out! She’s jus’ going on about how-” He puts up the most aggressive air quotes you’ve ever seen. “Irresponsible I am! But I’m like- Whateva’, movin’ on. But for the rest of the day- for the entire day, she’s just raggin’ on me. Tellin’ me I’m not good enough to even work in the gift shop, tellin’ me she should hire someone else f’less and they’d probably do more, and I- Honestly?” 
He’s getting heated, working himself up to the point where you feel like you can see his anger, like you can tell he’s absolutely fuming. “I’m jus’ so done.” His head falls in his hands with a heartbreaking sigh. When his head lifts he looks more tired than he was five seconds ago, stress written all over his features, and he looks as though he could cry. “Sorry. I don’t wanna talk about it anymore. I wanna-” He laughs sadly. “I wanna forget that- that’s-” He motions toward the door. “Even a part of my life.” 
You walk to him, stand in front of him, and tangle your fingers in his curls. You pull his head to you gently, smiling at the sigh he lets out when his head rests against your lower stomach. His hands come up slowly and wrap around your waist. “I’m so sorry, baby. I fucking hate her.” You take a deep breath and try to be more positive, your anger isn’t what he needs. “We could cook something? If you’re hungry?” He shakes his head against you, mumbling into your shirt. “M’ a bit tired, love.” You hum and stroke his hair as you think of another solution. His hands open and spread over your back, reaching up your shoulder blades and back down to the bottom of your spine. They hesitate, stopping before he breathes out an almost inaudible sigh and lets his hand rub over your ass, moving as slowly as they could before getting to your thighs, rubbing them up and down. 
An idea sparks in your head. 
You take your hands out of his hair, resting them on the side of his face and bending down to place a kiss on his head. His hands slide up to hold your forearms, humming at the pressure of your lips. His eyes are shut, basking in your kiss but open with a confused look in his eyes as you keep lowering until you’re on your knees. Your butt resting on your shins and your face level with his crotch. 
Steven is trying to keep his thoughts pure, not wanting to jump to conclusions about what you’re doing between his legs, but his cock is fattening up against his will. He’s praying you haven’t noticed but the smirk on your face tells him you already have. You’re reaching up for his waistband and his hips are already lifting off the bed, whining low in the back of his throat. His hands rest on your shoulders, stroking your arms and your neck as you work him out of his pants, pulling them completely off before doing the same with his underwear. 
“Thank you, swee’heart. You’re so good t’me, given’ me jus’ what I need. Such a lovely girl.” His eyes are shut lightly as his praises tumble mindlessly from his lips. His hips grind into your fist softly. You look up at him and lick his tip, letting the tip of your tongue timidly prod into his slit, causing a moan of your name to shoot from his lips as his hips twitch, wanting to thrust into you but staying dutifully put. 
You lean back and gather the precum from his tip and spread it all over his shaft, slowly jerking him off. His hand rises from your shoulder to your face, tilting it to him and leaning down to give you a gentle kiss, his tongue slowly licking into your mouth and rubbing along yours. He pulls away for a moment, then presses one last kiss to you. “Please, love, need you so bad.” His forehead rests against yours as he groans out his request. 
“Of course, baby.” You push his head out of the way gently, smirking at his desperate face, and rest his tip on your tongue. He’s moaning above you, his body still folded over as his hips jerk into your mouth, forcing his cock deeper down your throat. You expected to gag on it, considering how deep he was going but the urge never arose. So you dared further. 
You close your eyes, breathe in, and take his cock as far down as you can go, not stopping until your nose hits the patch of curls on his pelvis. Steven’s basically screaming above you, his moans completely unrestrained as you pull up, only leaving the tip in your mouth before devouring him again. His hands are digging into your head, not pulling or pushing, just holding you in place, leaving his dick in your throat and moaning out babbles of your name and how good it feels. His hips are moving gently, trying to thrust into you but having nowhere else to go. 
Your eyes begin to water, you pull off of him with a ‘pop’, and your hand goes to work, jerking him quickly to make up for the loss of coverage. He lets out a moan, a whimper of relief and finally sits back up, his head resting back as his chest heaves with pants and your hand flies over his cock.
“M’gonna cu-um.” His statement is cut off, and trembling as it falls from his glossy lips. You instantly put him back in your mouth, using your tongue to toy with him, curving it to wrap around the underside of his cock, and moaning when the bottom vein pulses violently. 
His moans have lost their shape, just garbled shouts and raspy whines. He’s trying to say your name, let you know how good you’re making him feel but pleasure is ripping through him so intensely that his brain shuts off every time your throat flexes around him. He wants to hold off, prolong this experience. You’ve never taken him this deep before, usually your lips being on him is foreplay, a side dish, not the main meal. So now with all your focus on him, he’s crumbling under the attention. He’s not strong enough to hold anything back, too tired and run down from his day to keep himself in line. 
His thighs begin to shake as his breaths stutter. You pause at his base, letting him take whatever he needs from you and his hips begin to thrust into your mouth gently, speeding up slowly and getting to a pace that you think may begin to hurt you when he freezes and floods your mouth. His hands are shoving your face into his cock, ensuring it’s as far as it can go as he releases his load down your throat. He keeps your head down as he comes off his high, still thrusting down your throat as your eyes begin to water again and his cock softens. 
You suck as tightly as you can, cleaning him off as he pulls out with a whine. You smile up at his hazy expression as he strokes your hair. “Thank you- s- s’much, love. Felt so good.” He’s panting hard with a happy smile as he thanks you, all his previous anger gone from his face. 
Mission Accomplished. 
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Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!
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jarofstyles · 3 months
Text
Illicit - 7
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Heyyy... How ya'll doing :-) We got a fun part in store...
Check out our Patreon for early access to the next few parts and 100+ exclusive writings!
Illicit Masterlist
WC- 3.6k
Warnings- blackmail, stalking, angst, vengeful H... Buckle up
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They got a call about a week later - just not the call they were expecting. 
It was Niall, telling him to check his texts for the links he sent. 
CHEATING SCANDAL- Harry Styles with Mystery Woman
Is Our ��It Couple’ Calling It Quits? Photos Point Towards A Torrid Affair
Katherine Brant Heartbroken- Sources Tell All!
Lip Locked and Illicit- Styles & Brant Are No More?
Who Is Harry Styles’ Mystery Woman? Read Here For More!
The headlines themselves didn’t bother him, no. He had already assumed she would go to the press to whine about the fact he cheated, despite there being no actual relationship to be seen- they’d never even properly kissed. He knew she would be bitter and angry and of course, out to try and get what she thought of as revenge. But what he hadn’t expected was the level of insane she actually was. 
Photos taken inside his home- inside his office, taken from what would have had to have been the closet, caught Y/N in his lap, in his shirt. His finger was curled under her chin and they were locked in a kiss, his other hand under the shirt. There was no mistaking who it was, considering he had been to the side to welcome her into his lap. His telltale signs of it being him, from his tattooed forearm to his hair and prominent nose, all of it outed him. 
And her. 
Harry was silently fuming as Y/N sat next to him, her body trembling slightly. There was no one who could blame her. It was violating, the photos. An intimate moment between the two of them, a tender moment of love ruined by the fact that someone had been there without being invited. Someone who had taken photos and god knew what else of them was some sort of  blackmail? Something to prove a point? He didn’t know. All he was positive about was the fact that he was going to ruin this girl’s life. 
“H-How did she even get inside?” Y/N’s voice cracked slightly as she looked at him with swollen eyes. Her tears had been silent, shocked at the level of violation she felt. Of course, she knew it was traditionally wrong to steal someone’s man- but he had pursued her. He had been the one to tell her about the contract, and rightfully so, didn’t break any technical rules. But now their plans of how they’d announced they’d come out as a couple were ruined, and she knew that her phone was more than likely blowing up upstairs in his bedroom. He’d called the police, waiting for both them and his lawyer to show up with his jaw tight, his tense arm around her trying his best to comfort her- but he was stuck in his own mind. 
“I don’t know, but I intend to find out.” He mumbled, staring at the wall. They’d barely managed to get dressed and be presentable, Harry in just a button up and his trousers with his hair in its natural state, and she was still reeling. It had been the worst way to wake up, hearing Harry bark on the phone and feel the tension rolling off of him in waves. She was used to his tenderness, his soft hours. It was unsettling to hear that first thing in the morning. Usually, he left business things until he was ready- which was why she knew from his tone, his posture and his face that the thing he was upset about was most definitely serious. “I will make sure the security in this building gets to a whole other level of clearance passes- or we move. This is unacceptable. But Brant isn’t answering me.” 
Harry felt like if he clenched his jaw any harder that his teeth would shatter. His spine was straight and his touch on her not as soothing as he’d like, but his mind was going a mile a minute. He was fuming, so angry that he felt lightheaded. How had she managed to bypass security again? 
One thing to know about Harry was that he hated when things didn’t go his way. It brought out the absolute worst in him in ways he wasn’t necessarily proud of. The man knew it, he knew more than anything he wasn’t a good person to be around, but he wasn’t going to leave and let Y/N wallow in this alone. Internally he was upset even more so, because if he had just dissolved the contract as soon as he met her, none of this would have happened. As usual, he was greedy and wanted to have his cake and eat it too, but it had never backfired this badly before. Granted, he never usually dealt with women so desperate for social notoriety as Katherine, but still.  
This was his fault and he knew it. 
Guilt wasn’t an emotion he knew much of. Not one he dealt with often, anyways. He was very analytical, logical and some would even say diabolical. He wasn’t one to say sorry, he wasn’t one to dwell on things, but all he could think about was the fact this was avoidable and he was just selfish. His selfishness hadn’t really affected him in this sort of way before. His stomach hurt, seeing her swollen eyes and sad expression on her beautiful face. While he hadn’t published the photos himself, it tore him to bits to know this was avoidable.
“I’m…” He paused, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I’m sorry, baby.” Turning to look at her, he tried to shake off some of his anger. “I’m gonna fix this. I promise.” It was a weak response to the situation but he was lost as to what to do to make her feel better at this moment. Harry was a man of action, not a man of words. He was quiet and didn’t talk to many people for a reason. Y/N was his best friend, the one he felt he could communicate with the best, but his tongue was tied and searching for the correct words to say. 
Y/N stayed quiet for a moment, looking at her lap. It was hard to tell what she was thinking when he couldn’t see her eyes. “Can I just ask… why did you keep it going?” She asked, voice quiet. It shook a little bit, pouring salt in the gaping wound. “Like, what were you really gaining out of it? You’re already one of the wealthiest men in one of the wealthiest families. What did this contract have over you?” 
This was something he was asking himself now, but the answer he could come up with wasn’t one he liked. It was selfishness and since meeting Y/N, he had tried his best- or at least he thought so- to be selfless and giving towards her. Apparently, that hadn’t been good enough. His hand grabbed her own, frowning slightly when she flinched before bringing her knuckles up to his mouth to give her hand apologetic kisses. How he was going to fix this sort of thing, he didn’t know. “I… It was pride.” He admitted, albeit hesitantly. “I was happy that I’d won the bid over everyone else, initially. I like getting what I want, even more what other people want. I figured that It couldn’t hurt. Let her use my name, get people off my back for being an ‘eternal bachelor’, all of that. I didn’t like her and didn’t act like a boyfriend, I knew I was not obligated to be monogamous or faithful to her.. But you changed it all.” He let out a breath, speaking against her knuckles. 
“Just pride?” Y/N laughed sadly. It twinged his stomach, but she was right to be disappointed in him. 
“I’ve never lied to you, and I don’t plan on starting now. She became the last thing on my mind when I met you. I knew… almost immediately that I wanted something serious. I’d never felt that way in my life, and you were all I could focus on. She was like an annoying fly that buzzed in but my focus was on you. It was an oversight. I know I should have just ended it then and gave up the contract. It was childish, but you’ve got to understand that I’m not a nice person, Y/N. I’ve never thought about considering someone else’s feelings until you. Being nice in my position gets you nowhere but fucked over.” His brows wrinkled together as he felt her hand drop from his grip, placed back on her lap. 
“I know you aren’t nice, Harry, and I know that I’m the exception to the rule but… you always say you never want me hurt.” Taking a quivering breath, she avoided looking at him. “Don’t you know how much it hurt to see someone else be referred to as your girlfriend? Seeing her flaunt you around and lie, take time away from us because she thought she had the right to have you?” Her throat felt tight as she felt him shift on the couch to face her properly. “Can you imagine how you’d feel if I were doing it? If someone else thought they had rights to me, posted me around, the rest of the world thinking I belonged to someone else, saw me next to them, pretending I was theirs?”
Immediately he felt rage. Even more than was his base level from today. He’d had this thought but hearing it vocalized stung. It hurt, damn it. “I’d kill them.” He said lowly. “And I know. I know, baby. And I’m sorry.” Hesitantly he grabbed her chin, tilting her up to meet his eyes. “I’m so sorry. I don’t say that a lot, or enough to you, but I regret it. I regret every bit.” His fingers brushed her cheek, feeling her lean into them. He didn’t deserve her forgiveness, nor her kindness, but somehow he had managed to get her to love him. He knew she would, even if he had to grovel for a few weeks. 
“I know. It still hurts me, though. There’s nothing we can do to change it, but I just wish.. I wish we could go ahead with our original plan. That she hadn’t fucked it up and took such intimate photos of us, outing us like that. I wanted our relationship to be public, I wanted everyone to know I’m yours- but not like this.” Her knees were gathered against her chest. Harry despised that she was folding into herself, pulled away mentally despite letting her face rest in his hand. “I feel so gross. You can see the bottom of my ass in the photos, and god knows what else she took. I’m just happy we didn’t have sex there.” She shuddered. 
“She’s not going to get away with it, Y/N.” Harry stressed. “I am going to spend every day trying to make up for the pain that I’ve put you through, and I know that it isn’t something that can be fixed overnight but I love you.” He promised, keeping her gaze. “I swear to you, I’m going to make sure that this is fixed to the best of my abilities. I’m going to take her down, no matter the cost.” 
—----
“Are you sure this is the route you want to take?” Mitch asked as Harry sipped his drink. 
“Yes. I’ve never talked to them before, and I’m positive it’s going to make front page. She wants attention that badly? I’m going to give her a headline.” He smirked, tapping his nails against the frosty glass. 
When Harry heard back from Brant, he had never heard a man be more apologetic and horrified in his life. There was no question that it was his daughter who was responsible for the photos and breaking in, and he had indulged in Harry that she had indeed been cut off but- no one could find her. She was in the wind and none of her friends was giving up her location. She had acted impulsively and didn’t think through the consequences, with both her father and the law looking for her. 
It was unsettling to know that she was unaccounted for knowing that she would go to desperate lengths now, cut off from the wealth she had made her entire personality and wanted for breaking and entering, as well as robbing him. Yes, she had taken some of the jewelry he had bought Y/N for Christmas along with a few other designer items. Desperation, he knows, and she was backed into a corner. What she had at first probably imagined as the greatest revenge was going to be her downfall. 
Harry was the last person with any fear regarding playing dirty. He was known for his malicious eyes and his sharp tongue, never one to tell a lie- so no one was going to notice if he stretched the truth to the paparazzi that had been purposely called to wait outside the bar. Giving her a taste of her own medicine. If she wanted to attempt to harm his relationship, make the love of his life uncomfortable, he was going to ensure she knew he had no intentions of backing down. She deserved not only a verbal attack but jail time.
“As long as you’re sure.” He patted his arm. “Where is Y/N at? She’s been attached to your side lately.” Harry had been taking time himself to get security temporarily for his love, not trusting the unhinged nature of Katherine running in the streets untracked. He’d also hired extra for his building, and his lawyers were working on a breach of contract for the prior company that had let her slip through the cracks due to a bribe. He’d seen it himself on camera. 
“She’s with Hannah. They’re getting manicures done at my place, so I gave her the time to do something for herself. Hired one to come to the house. She’s been a bit quiet lately, shaken up from it. I don’t blame her. I knew something was off that morning.” That’s why he hadn’t fucked her like he’d intended that morning. Something felt wrong. He’d never been more happy that he followed his instincts. 
“I got you. Is she okay though?” 
Harry sighed. “Yeah. We had a rough day, the first day. She was withdrawn. But it’s okay now. She’s a little jumpy at home, but since I got security she’s been better.” The one topic the man was soft about was her. Mitch was one of the ones he legitimately trusted in his circle and one of the few people that he liked genuinely, so he didn’t mind speaking to him. “But I’ve better get this show on the road. I know they’re out there.” He’d had his driver text him updates about the building crowd outside the bar. 
“Be safe, man.” Mitch smacked his shoulder. “I’m sorry you’ve got to deal with it.”
Harry appreciated it. He wished Y/N didn’t have to. That was feeding his revenge thirst more than anything. Remembering how she’d turned in on herself and genuinely looked horrified, how she had cried in his lap with how many people texted and called her to ask her what was happening, the idea of being labeled a homewrecker making her heart hurt. It hurt his, too, considering she was the only one he’d ever want to make a home with. 
Before Y/N, he thought of love as a weakness. A distraction, something to avoid. He himself thought he was incapable of it besides familial love, avoiding making connections because of the way he’d been fucked over in his youth. Of course he’d never expected love to become a driving force for him. Motivation. Wanting to build up higher and go harder so he could provide for her and their future family, to set things up so they’d never have to worry about a thing.  The woman had changed his perspective on everything. 
It’s why he decided the best course of action was to face the very people Katherine loved to pander to, give them the story they wanted. He never spoke to paparazzi, he considered it an invasion of privacy every time he saw one, but this would reach the masses. 
Pulling his jacket over his shoulders and his sunglasses over his eyes, he nodded at the guard who opened the door and opened himself up to the blur of flashing lights. Even his shades didn’t help the slight blindness, slowly walking until they started yelling at him. 
“Harry, who’s the girl?”
“Where’s Katherine?!”
“Why did you cheat?” 
“Hey, Harry, did you two break up?”
“Having a break up drink?”
He paused in the middle, looking around the mess of photographers who knew better this time than to get too close before opening his mouth. 
“I didn’t cheat on Katherine. Our relationship was something she manipulated into a contract. I’ve never considered her to be mine, nor will I ever. I let her run her mouth and say what she wanted because, frankly, her father was an acquaintance at one point. She’s the one who’s been obsessed with me, stalking me and breaking into my home. I told her to call off her charade of a relationship with me weeks ago, but instead she decided to break into my home, take violating photos of the woman I’m in love with and I in an intimate moment, and robbed me. She isn’t the feminist she claims to be with taking revealing and intimate photos of another woman. It’s violating and cruel, and I will not stop until she’s caught and my girlfriend feels safe again. ” He took a breath before lowering her sunglasses, looking at the cameras that were recording. 
“So no, I’m not having a breakup drink. It’s celebratory that she’s going to be arrested on multiple counts. No one knows where she is, but I’m sure she will come crawling out when the things she pawned for money runs out. There’s an active warrant out for her arrest, so if you see her…  Call the police.” He scoffed. “And for the record, I never cheated. Fidelity was never a clause.” Taking the glasses back to his face, he briskly walked towards the car, heart beating steadily in his chest. There was a mess of questions being shouted at him from behind, loud flashes from the cameras taking photos a mile a minute, but he didn’t stop. He’d said what he said. 
Harry was well aware of the fact that this was going to be spread like wildfire. It was going to be international headlines and he’d just started a firestorm across social media and the gossip channels, but that was the goal. Katherine had so desperately tried to carefully curate her image to be a girl supporting, philanthropic, kind, sweet wealthy girl, but she was nothing of the sort. She was nasty, cruel, vapid, fueled on the validation of others- and Harry was taking that away from her. Taking the one thing that mattered most after her father took away the money. There were no regrets. 
Slipping in the car, he placed the sunglasses on his head before checking his phone. 
Y/N: Look!!
Y/N: [Image Attachment]
Y/N: I did what you said :) 
Harry’s heart skipped a beat as he got a selfie from her with her nails the baby blue color he had suggested, silver stars as accents on a few fingers. It had been a choice she showed him when going through her nail pinterest board, and he thought it was cute. 
The photo was a reminder of just what exactly he was doing this for. Her. His sweet, angel faced girl sitting back in the apartment with the kindest heart he’d ever known. His heart had softened for her alone, making him weak to the touch. Feeling a little lighter just from seeing her face, his smile twitched on the corner of his lips as he typed out a reply. 
H: Gorgeous, my love. 
H: Is Hannah still there?
Y/N: Nooo, she had date night w Niall. 
Y/N: Salvatore is here though, he’s watching the door. 
Y/N: Can’t he watch TV with me or something? He must be bored. :////
Harry hated that he had to have security inside his home but he just didn’t know how deranged Katherine may actually be. 
H: I don’t pay him to watch television, pet. I pay him to watch the door. So, no. 
H:  Let’s stay off our phones tonight. 
Y/N: …Okay. 
Y/N: Do I want to know what you said or did?
H: Nope x
Y/N: I’m just going to trust you and say fine lol 
Y/N: Want to have ice cream when you’re back tho?
His smile grew to a full one at the last message. Y/N’s wants were so simple. All she wanted was to spend time with him, be close to him. That’s what he wanted too, but he’d never seen someone be so simple in the best way. There were no games with her, no fucking around. It was something he’d always admired about her, one of the many reasons the ring sitting in his office drawer was burning a hole in it. He wanted to make her his, officially but it wasn’t the right time. 
Soon, though. He didn’t like her walking around without his ring on her finger. 
H: You know I love sweet things, darling. Of course I do. 
Y/N: That’s why I’m your favorite 0:) hehe
H: My favorite in the world. 
H: Hang tight, my love. I’m coming home to you x
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ellabsweet · 10 months
Text
[*ੈ✩] 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 • 𝐄.𝐖
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synopsis: her jealous girl, ellie would endearingly call it, nothing but a charm and occasional inconvenience, until you spot her talking with her ex girlfriend deciding your girl needs to be reminded whose she really is.
pairing: ellie williams x reader
warning: established relationship, mentions of jealousy that may border problematic, nsfw content so minors and men don’t interact, sex in public spaces, sub!leaning ellie and dom!reader, somewhat voyerism, just nasty
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You watched them from the corner of your eye awaiting the moment either one would notice the laserbeams your eyes pointed forward, gaze strong enough to drill holes to a skull, but the moment never came, too enthralled in a conversation you guessed to be pathetic by their chuckling and particularly Cat’s attempt at physical contact brushing against Ellie’s arm.
Could’ve gritted your teeth to their quick, sandy white powder in your gums to replace. When the bitterness failed to spoil them, you took matters into stronger clenched hands, the future reprimend of your jealous behavior by Ellie’s voice getting more silent each second passing as you walked towards them, yanking Ellie away in a swift movement by the waist.
“What’s so funny?” You asked, their laughter dying down as Cat cleared her throat awkwardly.
“We were just talking about art” Ellie pointed out, shifting under your touch as to let herself loose which you did not allow.
“I can talk about art too! Let’s talk, where did you leave off?”
Cat excused herself with that, a groan stuck to her throat as she walked away from the both of you, stealing one last glance at Ellie that sent you absolutely fuming.
“Why do you always have to this, we’re just friends-“
“I’m sorry maybe when you were with Cat it was fine with her for you to go around parading flirtation like a fucking slut because she couldn’t take care of you but I think I do a pretty good job at that, don’t I?” Your hand lowered from her waist towards her cunt, grabbing onto her jeans and rubbing friction against them. Ellie let out a low whimper before attempting to close the space between her legs, shoving her thighs together, which only pushed you further up, hand hitting on her covered clit.
“Babe, please we’re in a public space” She mumbled already out of breath, making your eyebrows furrow, face pressed so close to her neck she’d hear you whisper in her ear, hand unmoving.
“Well maybe this is what you need, isn’t it? Wanted to be a fucking brat now you’re speaking so softly, if we’re lucky maybe Cat will see you getting fucked and back the fuck off”
You unbutton her jeans so quickly Ellie barely notices you doing so until your cold fingers reach her underwear, pushing it aside “You’re so wet already for me, or was this for Cat, huh? Who do you want inside this pretty pussy?” You slap it and she moans louder than intended, a few eyes around the Tipsy Bison wandering around to trace back the noise and getting redistracted by the loud music, your middle finger making its way to open her folds, stickiness already clinging to your skin as you tease your way in.
“N-No it’s all for you” She says with a curse, hand latching onto your wrist and pushing it towards her body in a way your finger dipped inside her, circular movements making her legs falter.
“Filthy fucking slut wants to use my hand to please herself?” You whisper on her neck, kissing your way slowly downwards to her clavicule a trail of wet kisses sending goosebumps down her body as Ellie continues to manoveur you as her sex toy, coming in and out of herself in a quickened pace that would surely get noticed around. You spot Cat a few people over and lock eyes with her, the second you do the smirk across your face couldn’t be hidden, shifting Ellie around so she’s positioned exposed to her with your hand knuckles deep inside, you nibble her ear and whisper.
“Show me how much you love me, hm? Let’s show Cat whose you are, okay baby? You want to make me happy?” She is only able to nod frantically, never before having had the opportunity to be submissive it felt as though she fully enjoyed the vulnerability of being completely yours to play with and know, you were her trusted person and soon everyone at the bar who weren’t too drunk to notice would have it engraved in their memory too.
“Babe, please, fuck” She begged as your other hand leaned over her bare breasts underneath the loose t-shirt she had sported that day, rubbing light circles over her nipples and staring straight into Cat’s unmoving shocked eyes as you did so, squeezing it hard the second you realized she’d move away to echo a throaty moan from Ellie “I’m only yours, fuck, please I need your mouth”
“You want my mouth?” You ask teasingly and she nods, eyes closed shut from the continuous friction you rubbed on her clit so tense it gave her a high nearing climax. You let go of her embrace all at once.
“Ask fucking Cat”
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rollingsins · 9 months
Text
the drabble files, p3
p1 | p2 | p3
summary: Several years into the future, after a call from the Principal, you and Tara sit your son down for a talk.
warnings: Tara is (was) Ghostface.
word count: 1.5k.
a/n: future!fic, obviously set post all hers. for those of you who have gf!tara baby fever - bet you don't after this.
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“Sit down,” You say, sternly, “This is serious.” 
A call from the school isn’t uncommon these days. Your son, Gabriel, barely twelve years old, is flowering into quite the young rebel. 
At first, it had been mostly harmless. Silly pranks pulled on his younger sister. Crude jokes shared with his friends in the back of your car. Arguing about chores. 
But you’ve never had the Principal himself call you in the middle of the day to complain before. 
And you know if you don’t nip it in the bud now, that flowering rebel will bloom into an absolute nightmare of a teenager. 
Gabriel looks back at you with wide eyes. 
He’s tall for his age, with long, floppy dark hair. He has Tara’s eyes, her easy smile, and has seemingly also inherited her utter lack of respect for any figure of authority. 
He eyes the seat opposite you, pursing his lips as he slinks into the chair, flipping his hair like a wannabe Justin Bieber. 
Tara sits beside you, lazy arm slung across the back of your chair. She knows her role well by now - back-up. The other arm in your chain of unity. 
“Fun-Mom” Gabriel sometimes called her, “Scary-Mom” when she got mad. 
Somehow, you always seemed to be known as “Un-Fun-Mom”, a title you couldn't' quite shake. 
You half dare him to try it now, but he only blinks back at you, as if he understands he’s pushed the boat too far this time. 
You tilt your head at him, silently fuming. Tara’s fingers brush against the back of your neck, a familiar technique Gabriel called ‘taming the beast’. You shake her off and swallow, leaning across the table at your moron of a son. 
“Mr. Sampson called this afternoon,” You say, voice heated, “He told me you called him something very rude in class. Is that true?” 
He blinks back at you with long, dark lashes. His eyes catch Tara’s, then he looks back to you. 
He shrugs, but it’s not as nonchalant as you know he hopes it is. 
He shrugs like he’s too scared to answer. 
You lean forward, eyes narrowing.
“He said you called him a 'argyle wearing troglodyte who couldn’t find his way between a woman’s legs if someone drew him a map made out of rocks.'” 
Gabriel swallows. 
You stare back at him, fire behind your eyes. 
It’s quiet for only a moment. Nothing but the sound of your heavy breathing and the sharp intake of Gabriel’s breath. 
And then beside you, Tara snorts. 
It rumbles through the kitchen as if it’s a thunderstorm. 
Your head jerks over to Tara at the same time Gabriel’s eyes find her. 
You stare at her, furrows browed, a sharp wave of indignation flooding through you. You’re supposed to be a team and she’s shown her hand. 
Broken the chain of unity. 
But it doesn’t last long. Immediately, her eyes widen as she realizes what she’s done. 
She turns to you, eyes wide, like she’s just entered a ring with a tiger. Her face drains of color. Her hand slung across the back of your chair slips. 
You blink in quiet outrage and she sits up, swallowing. 
She steadies her expression, suddenly serious, but it’s too late. 
By the time your gaze shifts back to Gabriel, he’s smiling. 
The victory of making his Mom laugh has bloomed a shit-eating grin across his face. 
“You forgot bitchless,” He gloats, leaning forward, “I called him a bitchless argyle wearing troglodyte who couldn’t-“ 
“Gabriel Carpenter,” You hiss, slamming your hand down on the table, “This isn’t funny.” 
“Mom seems to think it is.” He says, voice snide. He leans back in his chair, as if this is all a carnival game and he’s just won a first place ribbon. 
Your nostrils flare. 
Out of your two children, Gabriel had always been the more difficult child. Loud, obnoxious, moody, temperamental. 
His looks aren’t the only thing he’s inherited from your wife. 
The “I don’t give a fuck” nature had come as an unfortunate package. 
It had been cute when he was a toddler. 
Not so much anymore. 
“Really?” You challenge, looking over to your wife, “Tara, do you think it’s funny Gabriel called his history teacher a “bitchless, argyle wearing troglodyte”?” 
Tara shakes her head, immediately. 
“No babe, of course not,” She placates you, reaching over to squeeze your hand. You glare at her until she turns to your son, “That isn’t funny Gabriel.” 
“But you laughed,” He protests, all confidence lost. 
“I wasn’t laughing at what you said, I was laughing at something funny I thought of in my head.” Tara says, rather unconvincingly. 
You roll your eyes. 
Tara pauses, side eyeing you a moment and then tilting her head towards Gabriel. 
“Where’d you’d even come up with that kind of insult anyway?” She asks, trying - and failing, not to sound interested.
Gabriel smirks. 
“From you, Mom,” He says, “It’s the way you talk about Grandpa.” 
Tara’s eyes widen. She looks over to you, a little afraid.
“Yes, well, that’s wrong of me,” She says, a little hastily, “You shouldn’t insult people, Gabe. Not to their face.” 
Gabriel’s face crinkles. 
“You mean I should just insult them behind their back?” He asks, a little confused. 
You pinch your nose. 
“No,” You stress, nudging your wife to be quiet before she makes the situation even worse, “You shouldn’t insult people at all. You’re going to apologize to Mr Sampson tomorrow and we’re all going to pray you don’t get suspended.” 
Gabriel sulks. 
“But he is a bitchless troglodyte,” He scowls, crossing his arms, “You should hear the way he talks to the girls in class. Like they’re too stupid to follow his lessons.” 
“That’s neither here nor there,” You say, firmly, “If you want to make a complaint about Mr Sampson you can do it properly, by talking to the principal.” 
You pause, furrowing your brow. 
“And stop saying “bitchless”, You add, “Where’d you learn that word anyway?” 
“It’s what Mom calls Aunt Mindy sometimes.” Gabriel answers, happily. 
You shoot another scowl towards your wife. 
She averts her gaze. 
“You’re grounded,” You tell your son, “Two weeks. No screentime, and you come straight home after school.”
Gabriel’s eyes widen, “But Ma-“ 
“Don’t argue with me, Gabriel, you’re in enough trouble as it is.” You say, voice hot. 
Gabriel blinks back at you. 
“Mom?” He looks at Tara, moon-eyed. 
“Don’t look at her, she’s not going to help you.” You snap, and Tara shifts uncomfortably. 
You look over to her, look pointed. 
She purses her lips, cowering under the fury in your gaze. 
“Mama’s right, Gabe, you can’t call people names. You’re grounded.” 
Gabriel looks over to her, betrayal in his eyes. 
“But-“ 
“No buts, now get upstairs and get your sister down for dinner before you get yourself - or me - in anymore trouble.” Tara mumbles. She’s not making eye contact with you, uncharacteristically avoidant. 
Gabriel folds his arms. 
“She’s your kid, get her yourself.” Gabriel glares. 
Your son thinks he has a fire, but you know your wife a little better than he does.
He's an ember and she's a forest fire.
You lean back, satisfied she’ll take over from here. 
Tara glares at him. 
“That’s another week grounded for talking back,” Tara growls. 
Gabriel’s eyes bulge. 
“You can’t do that!” He says, mouth falling open, eyes wide in all his pre-teen outrage. 
“Wanna make it four?” 
Gabriel frowns. His eyebrows pitch together in that way Tara’s do right before she’s about to throw a tantrum. 
He stares back at her as if she’s a traitor and stands, dragging his chair along the floor with a sharp whine to express his dissatisfaction. 
Usually, the two of them are thick as thieves. Tara and her little mini me. But Gabriel had made a critical error - he’d tried to pit your wife against you. 
A thick as thieves or no, mother and son or no - there’s no-ones team she’s on but yours. 
Gabriel leaves the table with a grumble, shooting daggers at her. He stomps to the bottom of the stairs and leans over the bannister. 
“Riley!” He calls, “Dinner!” 
“Go up and get her, Gabriel,” Tara snaps, “Am I speaking French?” 
He stomps up the stairs, dirty look in his eyes. 
You look over to her. She’s in Scary-Mom mode now, your son has inadvertently awoken the beast.
But as she looks over to you, her expression softens. 
She scoots her chair a little closer and curls up against you, not unlike an oddly affectionate panther. 
Her lips graze the side of your cheek before she presses a quick peck to the top of your head. 
Then she looks at you, eyes apologetic. Mournful. 
“I wasn’t undermining you, baby, I really was thinking of something funny in my head.” She says, so quickly the words jumble together. 
You consider this, and then squeezes her hand. 
You meet her lips in a soft kiss. 
“You’re a terrible liar,” You tell her, drawing back, “But thanks for backing me up.” 
“Always.” She murmurs. 
There’s a loud crash from the top of the stairs and then you hear your daughter scream out. 
“It’s mine, Gabriel!” She cries. 
“Don’t be such a baby, you had your turn.” Says Gabriel. 
You sigh. 
Tara stands with a growl. Her chair scrapes against the tile. You wince.
“Don’t kill them,” You say, sounding resigned. 
You stare over at the pot on the stove. The pasta is sure to be over cooked by now. Your Son would be in a mood for the rest of the night and now he'd gone and upset his sister.
“Don’t give me any ideas.” Tara grumbles, before she marches up the stairs. 
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whalesforhands · 10 months
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hiii i was your first anon ever but how about reader with someone ELSE crushing on her? under stsg’s noses?! omg the absolute war that will go down… maybe its a new student or maybe a first year! haibara? haibara a first year who has become absolutely enamored with her and heart eyes whenver he sees her!! and ykw shes so sweet oh so kind she doesnt find him odd in fact she thinks he’s equally sweet and shes so a fond of him, gives him the prettiest smiles and helps him out a lot! except shes so oblivious to the fact that he likes her!! everyone knows. everyone. shoko, nanami. (nanani tries his best to warn haibara about the future in liking her bc of the two guard dogs around her but haibara doesnt get the hints) AND stsg. oh when those two find out itll be an immediate shut down. maybe shoko lets out about the heart eyes haibara gives her everytime he sees her in the morning. or maybe they catch haibara and reader in a conversation where haibara is sweating and blushing a bright pink and reader is just calmly (?) and worriedly talking to him talking about some subject she found interesting, she reaches to touch his hand or head and he heats up even more and she has to almost catch him from fainting. stsg in the distance are fuming!!! satoru’s plan is to go storming in and makeout with her and give her a couple of hickies but suguru knows she might pass out from that and tells him to relax.. even tho inside suguru is equally distraught…but anyways… how you write is up to you!!!
so happy youre growing more and more and your stories are getting better!!!🩶🩶🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🤍❤️‍🔥
i love haibara man. everybody loves haibara i’m not gonna be mean to him cause he’s a literal ray of sunshine. no one can convince me to make haibara suffer, not even u, my no.1 anon.
so i completely changed ur suggestion hahahah
our first years are too cute! (geto x reader x gojo)
“Nanami-kun, Haibara-kun!” You wave at them from the courtyard, your arms flailing about in the air as you practically bounce in place from excitement.
“Good morning!” You’re dressed in your exercise getup, Shoko next to you stretching as she gave a lazy wave towards them.
“(last name)-san is always so cheery, isn’t she?” Haibara enthusiastically waved back with his whole body, trying to match your jolly energy.
“Good morning!!!”
Nanami sighs, watching as the SG duo begin to flank you, Suguru’s arm resting around your shoulders as Gojo pulls out some senbei from his pockets, waving it in the air and claiming they were fresh off the grill and deliciously ready for anyone to sink their teeth into.
“You’re gonna get stomachaches if you accept food from him.” Suguru whispers not very inconspicuously into your ear as you laugh.
“I can hear you!”
“If you can then you should treat us to some soda.” Shoko adds in, her arms twirling themselves around your free one as she stares at the bespectacled sorcerer.
“Or we’ll tell Yaga-sensei you skipped out on running 3 laps.”
You look at him stunned. Betrayed.
“I let you finish my water bottle when you said you were exhausted from running…” You’re disheartened at being tricked as Geto rubs your shoulder, whispering more about ‘liars’ and ‘dirty cheats’.
Shoko simply smirks as she holds your arm.
Satoru gives in to pressure.
“…The Satoru wallet has made an appearance once more! What would our lovely users like to drink today?!”
Your slackened shoulders instantly pipe up as the other 2 share a secretive high five.
——
“And that’s why azuki bean flavour is the best, Nanami-kun!” You grin as you plop the said wrapped bread into his open palm.
It feels hot. He could practically see the steam arising from it, the slight sweetness of the red bean wafting into temptingly into his nose.
This is too fresh to be from the cafeteria. It smells different too.
(He would know.)
“(last name)-san,” He stares at the treat whilst Haibara was gushing over the food, eyes sparkling as he looks at it. “Did you make this?”
You flinch, bashfully twirling a lock of your hair as you avoid his gaze.
“No…?”
Your eyes flit back up to meet an unamused stare paired with a cocked eyebrow. Oh. You’ve been caught.
“Aha.” You turn your back to him as your voice grows quieter, more insecure. “Is it obvious because it’s ugly?”
Realization then strikes you.
“A-ah, you probably wouldn’t want it because it’s homemade, right? Sanitation issues and all…” You promptly spin back around, trying to retrieve your treats before Haibara interrupts.
“(last name)-senpai made it?! Then there’s no way we can reject it!” He’s hugging the treat in his arms and dodging your attempts to snatch it back.
“B-but it really isn’t any good! I’ll buy you some from the one down the street!”
Even Nanami was now using his height to hold your treat high in the air, out of your reach. Haibara moves to copy his movements, both hands holding your homemade snack as high as he could go, proudly showing it off to the sky as if it were his greatest treasure.
“I will never forget this kind gesture, (last name)-senpai!”
“We will greatly savour this as your underclassmen.”
“Why do you both sound like this is the last thing you’re ever going to get from me?!”
——
“Then, Nanami swept in and went KABOOSH! And the curse was down several limbs!” Haibara recalled, his fists pumping into the air as he tried to replicate the excitement he felt during the mission.
You nod excitedly, happy to simply hear his excited voice.
It goes silent when he finishes, the tension enveloping the both of you.
You don’t want him to feel awkward around you.
Mm, what do the younger ones like nowadays anyways? Gundams? Maybe you should talk about that Ex-S MXA-0011 Gundam that you built with Satoru the other day.
“Ah…” He scratches his head, lost. “I’m sorry that I don’t know much about Gundams!” He’s now fervently bowing in apology.
You feel bad.
“Haibara-kun, you don’t need to bow!” You’re waving your hands frantically, trying to get him to stop as you panic.
You go back to thinking, absentmindedly staring deep into your lowerclassmen’s eyes as you think about the latest trends.
(You’re not noticing how intensely you’re looking at him. He’s blushing up a storm.)
“Oh!” Your fist taps your into your open palm.
“Do you like Pokemon?”
“Ah, Pocket Monsters?!” He’s excited. “Do you like it as well, (last name)-senpai?! I have a copy of the Fire Red version and I-“
He’s trailing off. You’re happy to see him smile again as he prattles on and on. So precious.
“You’re cute when you talk about things you like, Haibara-kun.”
Are kids these days meant to be so red?
(He’s only a year below you.)
“Are you okay?” You move forward, hand gingerly moving his bangs aside before you press the back against his flushed skin, face slowly closing in on his.
“Haibara-kun, are you not-“
“Haibara-chan has a cold, doesn’t he?!” Gojo tackles the boy, placing his own forehead against his own as Geto appears next to them.
“Sick people should take it easy and rest.” Geto snatches the boy away from his partner, dragging Haibara onto a nearby chair, slapping a fever patch onto his forehead as Gojo sticks a thermometer into the poor underclassman’s mouth.
“Guys, is that not a little rough…?” You move forward to try to stop Yu’s body from being tossed around, his eyes starting to spin as you try to catch him.
“Look at that!” Gojo’s arm is hugged around your neck as he pulls you in closer, grabbing you and pulling your body towards him for you to view the beeping thermometer with him.
“Our poor boy is burning up!”
“Well that’s not goo-“
“Suguru!” He snaps his fingers in the air as his hand moves to now rest on your waist as you’re pressed into his side.
“Contact the hospital and bring us our finest doctor!”
“Understood, sir!” Geto stands to attention, saluting the both of you as your eyes blankly stare at him.
What.
Geto simply winks at you, shaking his phone in his hand that had popped out of those seemingly endless deep pockets.
“Shooookooooo, emergency in the courtyard!”
You hear a muffled sigh coming out of his device as Gojo suddenly outs his own phone to take a selfie with you and a red Haibara.
(“Just smile as cutely as usual!”)
“…what does this have to do with me?”
——
Haibara Yu never felt such joy.
‘My seniors care about me so much!’
Gojo’s holding him by his legs, whilst Geto’s supporting the weight of his arms as they quite literally cart him around by his limbs.
He’s in bliss before he’s unceremoniously tossed onto the hard wooden bench, an unimpressed Shoko appearing by his side.
“Alright, patient of the day.” Her eyes glint as her hands move to hover over his body. “Get ready to experience the healing of a lifetime.”
“Yayyy, Shoko is the best!”
“World class!”
“She looks pretty when she’s so focused…”
“What did you troublesome lot pull Haibara into…?”
Should… He be scared? No. He’s got his trusty seniors and Nanami to look over him. He trusts you all.
——
“Which one of you made your little ‘adjustments’ to my chair?” Yaga growled out, a throbbing pain throughout his lower back and posterior as he sat upon the steps, pain relief patch slightly peeking out of his pants whilst looking down towards the two kneeling suspects.
Fingers are pointed at each other.
Yaga glares at the two culprits refusing to take the blame.
“You troublesome lot…” He cracks his knuckles as the two begin to cower slightly.
“NEED MORE DISCIPLINE!” He lets loose his fist, sending the SatoSugu duo flying as they soar through the yard, yelps of pain being let out.
Haibara gulps as he hears the commotion happening just meters away from him.
He should just ignore the building irritation and rage that’s boiling from within the senior beside him… Right?
He feels a sudden smack to his gut as his body jolts up, his ears taking the brunt of the loudest he’s ever heard Ieiri-senpai.
“I CAN’T CONCENTRATE IF YOU DON’T SHUT IT!”
(She’s referring to her two injured classmates who are rubbing their heads as they whine about Yaga’s ‘mistreatment’.)
(You’re holding an ice pack to Satoru’s head as Suguru curls up beside you, waiting for his turn.)
——
Sleeping.
That’s what you were all doing. The sun was beginning to set, an orange glow engulfing your forms in its warm embrace as the night began to settle in.
Suguru’s back is against the tree, arms crossed against his chest as he slumps over, snoring lightly with Satoru drooling all over his right shoulder.
You’re nestled comfortably on his other shoulder, snuggling yourself into his neck as you nearly fall onto his chest, one hand in Shoko’s hair where she lays on your lap, her hand oddly stretched forward, fingers grazing the fabric of Suguru’s knees.
The underclassmen simply settle down around the tree with all of you, right next to Gojo as they observe the strangely serene sight.
“Our upperclassmen… Are kinda cute, aren’t they?”
“Don’t flatter them.”
(“Should we wake them up?”)
(“…Let them rest for a little longer.”)
masterlist
Notes:
“Suguru, is your head fine?”
“Ah, I’m quite alr-“ He pauses, his smile growing as he looks at you, eyes curving up into mischievous crescents. “Actually… It does feel a little sore.” His tone subtly shifts to one of mock hurt, hand coming up to press the bump softly as he fakes a little wince.
(A little lie wouldn’t hurt, right?)
“Wanna make me feel better?” He’s silent as he leans down towards you, hoping you pat his head and let him indulge a little in your touch.
You stare at him.
He’s surprised when you slowly lean up on your toes, fingers pressing against his cheek before a kiss was administered to his forehead as you tuck away his strand of hair.
“I hope you feel better soon.” You watch him as his blush grows, eyes staring starstruck at you.
“…”
“I will if you do that again.”
(“My head hurts too! It’s my turn!”)
(“My hand hurts all of a sudden from whacking Haibara.”)
828 notes · View notes
pedroshotwifey · 3 months
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One Condition
This is actually a requested fic from the lovely @survivingandenduring! You can view the request here if you'd like!
Pairing: Marcus Pike x fem!reader x Ezra (Prospect)
Word count: 4.9k
Tags/warnings: unprotected piv sex, sex pollen trope, dubcon, unprotected anal sex, double penetration, oral sex, cum eating, so much cum like its kinda scary, Ezra being a nasty little freak, anal fingering, pain kink, big fat juicy plot twist, this is absolutely nasty shit, stuff I'm probably forgetting, I'm actually not sorry at all for this
Summary: You and your partner, Marcus Pike, get stranded on an inhabited planet and run into problem after problem. You find yourselves in a compromising position that requires help from a strange man, who comes to you with one condition.
A/N: Uhhh. don't look at me 🫣
*****
“Um, Marcus?” 
You look at your partner, who has the same worried expression on his face as you. 
“Yup.” 
It’s not a question. You’re both thinking the same thing; you’re in the wrong place. 
It looks similar to the planet you were supposed to be landing on, but most of the scenery here is a lush green instead of the blue hues you’d been expecting. It’d looked the exact same from above the atmosphere, but there is a clear difference now that you’re on the surface. 
Marcus mutters a curse under his breath but begins the landing sequence anyway. That’s probably for the best; that way the two of you can figure out where you really were, and then where you actually need to be going. 
Dust comes up around your shuttle as you touch ground, the greenery around you rustling a bit as the jets power down. You get up from your seat when you feel the craft settle enough for the floor to be stable. 
Marcus follows, shutting everything down and then unbuckling himself from the pilot’s chair. You’re already on the other side of the small contraption, looking through the maps you have stored in the tiny compartment of the far wall. He comes up next to you and pulls up the planet encyclopedias, trying to find a description that matches the world you’ve landed in. 
You spend the next few minutes flipping through various books and maps until Marcus comes across a planet that matches. He hands the book over and points at the section. 
“Here,” he points. “It looks like we're on a sister planet to the one we’re supposed to be on.” 
You hum in agreement, reading the small passage provided next to the picture.
“Alright, well, let’s get her powered back up.” 
Your partner sighs, running a hand over his face. You furrow your brows. His face has paled a bit and he seems a bit reluctant to follow your request. 
“Is there a problem?” 
“Yeah, actually. We’re out of fuel,” he admits, trying and failing miserably to maintain eye contact. 
You gape at him. 
“Marcus! You were supposed to fill her up before we fucking left! It says here that there’s no civilization!” 
He nods along as you scold him, knowing it’s well deserved. 
“Yeah, I know. I forgot until we were halfway here, but I knew it would take just enough to get us on planet, and we could get more from there. It’s not like I knew that we would be landing on the wrong planet” He spews it out, not defensive exactly, but regretful. 
You groan and walk back to the front of the ship, checking the fuel gauge. 
“We’re running on fumes right now, I don’t know if it’s going to be enough to get us to the neighboring planet.” 
You look at him, trying to keep your anger from showing up because you know that it was genuinely an accident, and Marcus isn’t usually one to mess up like this. But of course when he does, you get stranded on an unknown planet.  
Rubbing your eyes, you walk in a circle around the floor, trying to think of a plan. You can feel Marcus’s guilty eyes following you until you come to a stop. 
“Okay,” you start. “The book said that this planet is typically only used for mining aurelac, right?” 
Marcus nods slowly, obviously confused as to where you’re going with this. 
“Well then there should be at least a few miners on planet in that case, right?” 
He nods again, furrowing his brows in thought. 
“So we should go out and try to find someone to borrow some fuel from?” he asks. 
“Yes. Either that or see if there’s someone who can hitch us a ride.” 
He sighs and puts his hands on his hips, his gaze downcast to the floor as he thinks through the options.
“Yeah, seems like our best bet,” he agrees after a minute. 
Within a few minutes, you both pack small bags and suit up to withstand the harsh environment of the planet. According to the book, the air is extremely thin and can sometimes hold toxic chemicals depending on other factors. You follow Marcus out of the craft and watch as he makes sure everything’s sealed correctly, before you both start walking into the woods. 
“Do you know where you’re going?” you ask after you’ve been walking for a while.” 
Marcus looks at you, his expression still holding hints of guilt. 
“Not exactly. I think most of the mines are located in the forest though, so we’ll just have to keep walking and hope we come across—” 
“Shit, Marcus!” 
You yell for him as he stumbles across a root and tumbles down into a pit. It’s not super deep, but just enough so that he could have seriously hurt himself with that fall. You carefully slide down the side of it to join him. 
“Are you okay?”
He looks up at you from where he’s planted on his back and groans a bit. He opens his mouth to reply and that’s when you see that his mask is on the ground next to him, crushed into several pieces. 
“Shit,” he croaks, already feeling the effects of the thin air. 
You crouch down beside him, feeling him up for any injuries. 
“Does anything hurt?” 
“Just my head. It’s fucking pounding.” 
You sigh. “Probably from lack of airflow.” 
“C’mon,” you grunt, threading your arms under his. “Let’s get you back and hope that you don’t die.” 
He glares at you but allows you to help him into a sitting position.
“Well, isn’t this unfortunate? Two little birds trapped in a cage.” 
You both jolt at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. You peer up to the top of the pit and find a man standing near the ledge, a blaster aimed directly at your head. He wears a shabby, brown suit with a bulbous helmet that would be almost funny looking if not for the imminent threat he poses. You slowly raise your hands and start to stand back up, a rush of fear creeping up your spine. 
“We’re not armed,” you start. “My friend’s mask just broke; we need help.” You try not to sound too panicked as you explain your situation to the stranger, praying to whoever may be listening that he’s not planning to shoot both of you.
“Don’t worry gem, I don’t want to kill you. I simply would like to assure myself that neither of you had plans of my own execution.” 
You furrow your brows at his choice of wording, his strange drawl only adding to your confusion. 
“I, uh. No.” What else can you really say to that?
You glance down at Marcus and see the same befuddled expression on his face. 
“I will warn you that your…friend”—he cocks a brow at you as he says it—”has chosen a rather unfortunate time to lose his filtration system. Assuming, of course,  you haven’t already discovered the effects of the tainted oxygen.” 
You shake your head as your mouth goes dry. 
“Is—is he going to be okay?” 
The stranger pauses for a moment as if in thought. He cocks his head and then looks back at you. 
“He should be as long as he receives the assistance he should require.” 
“What do you mean by that?” This comes from Marcus. 
The stranger frowns and lowers his gun, which he seems to have just remembered he was still holding up. 
“Are you not familiar with this planet’s cycles?” 
You both shake your heads.
The man sighs and kneels on the ledge extending a hand. You stare at it, neither of you making a move toward him. 
“Do you want to stay in this pit? I think it would be rather unsanitary to do so under your current circumstance.” 
You flash another glance at Marcus, who nods slightly toward you, encouraging you to take the other man’s hand. You step forward and place your palm in his, allowing him to pull you up, and then you kneel to help him hoist Marcus up as well. 
“I’m Ezra,” the man says once the three of you are standing. You introduce the two of you as well, figuring at this point that the stranger has to be at least mostly harmless. 
“Alright, well tell me, little bird; are you and Marcus of the romantic type?” 
You just stare at him, unsure of how to answer that, nor of why he would feel the need to ask in the first place. You can feel Marcus’s eyes on you as your cheeks begin to burn. 
“I–uh…” 
You let your eyes meet your partner’s, a silent conversation transpiring. You’ve engaged in some less than appropriate activities throughout your travels, but it’s always been strictly for stress release or simply a product of boredom. The last few months, it’s been more of an unspoken thing. 
The two of you care for each other and behave as most couples would, but you’ve never actually given each other the labels. You definitely never thought that the deciding conversation would be in the presence of a strange man who seems to be about to deliver some bad news. You’re about to answer when Marcus gives you a short nod, lifting the burden off of your shoulders. 
“Yeah, we are.” 
The man nods, though he’s clearly amused. You’re sure he can see what just happened and must have used context clues to figure the rest out out. 
“That’s fortunate for you. What’s circulating in the air currently is what could be described as an aphrodisiac. I’m sure you’re familiar with such?” 
You and Marcus exchange yet another glance. 
“Yes, we’ve heard of them,” you say. 
“Do you have a craft nearby?” Ezra asks, peering behind you as if he could spot one he missed before. 
You hesitate before answering. Even if he’s seemed to be helpful so far, can you really be sure it isn’t a trap? 
“We have a shuttle,” you decide on just to be on the safe side. “We’re out of fuel though. That’s why we're out here in the first place,” you add just in case the man has some extra laying around for some miraculous reason.
Just then, you near a heavy thud and a groan. You spin on your heel to find Marcus keeled over, his hands over his groin and his exposed skin covered in a layer of sweat more intense than what’s normal for this climate. You’re on your knees beside him within a second, your hands running over him until he flinches away as if you’d burned him. 
“Marcus! What’s happening?” You aim your question at Ezra, who’s still standing above the two of you with an almost pitying expression. 
“The effects are getting to him, little dove. I’m afraid you’re going to need to help him in a timely manner.” 
You think for a moment, knowing getting your partner all the way back to your shuttle is going to be a difficult task in the state that he’s in. 
“I have a camp not too far from our current location, I’m willing to offer up the space on one condition. And before you protest, we both know it’s not safe to engage in life saving activities out here in the open.” 
You stiffen at this. Of course there’s a catch; it’s not common to receive help from a random stranger without them expecting anything in return. You glance down to make sure his gun is still in its holster before narrowing your eyes at his face, not liking the way his smile has turned a bit wolfish. 
“What do you want? We don’t have any coin.” 
“Oh, no, gem. I don’t want your profits. I simply desire to join you and your handsome partner. It’s been a long time since I had something other than my own fist to keep me company.” 
“What?” you bark, slightly humiliated that he would suggest something like that, regardless of how handsome he may be. “No, I’m sleeping with a stranger in exchange for shelter!” 
“Now don’t get feisty, dove. I didn’t say it had to be you,” he says, watching Marcus with a newfound hunger. “Though it would probably be fortunate for your friend here that it was, assuming he is of the hetero kind.” 
“Don’t,” Marcus croaks, looking up at you the best he’s able to. 
You’re torn, knowing that Marcus needs help quick, but not wanting to give either of you up to this man. When it comes down to it though, you’re always going to choose what’s best for your partner. You look up at the man with disdain, knowing that you’re not going to have much of a choice here. 
“Fine. But not him.” 
Ezra’s smile broadens. 
“Very well, gem. Right this way.” 
He turns around and waits for you to get a near-delirious Marcus about halfway up so he’s propped by one of your shoulders. Noticing your struggle, Ezra comes to his other side and mirrors your position, one hand supporting around his waist. 
As you walk, Marcus’s temperature keeps rising and his groans get worse. Fortunately, the man wasn’t lying when he said he had a camp nearby; you only have to walk for about a minute before coming across it. 
He opens up the flap as you get closer, taking the zipper all the way down and helping you ease Marcus in. As you lay him down, you can see the bulge in his flight suit; almost twice what is normal. You hear Ezra zip the opening back up and then step in behind you. 
“F-fuck, I’m sorry, I can’t–” 
Marcus cuts himself off as he shakily pulls down the zipper on his suit, revealing his undershirt and boxers. His hand goes down the latter not a second later, a pornographic moan coming from him as his hand makes contact with his engorged cock. He starts stroking himself under the fabric, panting heavily, and it makes your mouth go dry despite the circumstances. 
“Shit, I-it’s not enough,” he grits out, pumping furiously. There are tears in his eyes as he looks at you, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. 
“Better help him quick, little bird,” Ezra quips from behind you, already removing his attire as well. You comply, though for which man you’re not sure. 
You strip quickly, the three of you tearing your own clothes off at the same time, each of you stark naked at the end. You feel so exposed between the two of them, especially with Ezra, who doesn’t help at all by giving a lewd whistle at the sight of your bare body. 
You give him a look so nasty that you’re surprised he doesn’t drop dead. He raises his hands in defense. 
“Woah, little bird, I meant it only as a praise.” 
You ignore him and turn to Marcus, who’s just now shoving his boxers off. You gasp when his dick springs up, heavy, red, throbbing, and leaking an obscene amount of precum. It’s swollen to a point that looks almost painful. 
You swallow your nerves and try your best to ignore Ezra as you instruct Marcus to lay down on the cot. He tugs you with him, feral to get to you at this point. You fall over him and he immediately starts sucking and licking all the skin he can get to, his hips thrusting up into nothing. 
You see Ezra move out of the corner of your eye, taking a seat in the single chair inside the small tent. You lift your head as much as you can to make sure he’s not going to try anything. 
“Carry on, gem. I’m a patient man; I can wait my turn.” 
If you’re being honest, he looks a little too smug.
Suddenly Marcus is flipping you over, shoving you down to the bed on your back, whispering something you can’t quite catch. He doesn’t wait another second before you feel his cock at your underprepared cunt, and your eyes barely have a chance to go wide before he’s forcing himself into you, groaning wildly as he tugs you down onto him. 
It’s only then that you realize he had been whispering “sorry”. 
You scream and your hands come up to reflexively try to get him off. There are tears as he keeps shoving himself in, stretching you to your limit. Through your blurry vision, you can see tears in his as well, more of shame than of pleasure by his sympathetic expression. 
“I’m sorry,” he says again.
“N-no,” you squeak even as your hands claw at his back from the discomfort. “It’s okay. Don’t stop. Even if I beg you to.”
You close your eyes and try not to focus on the uncomfortable feeling between your legs as Marcus begins to unrelentingly slam his hip into yours. You hear a sound coming from beside you, and turn to see Ezra pumping himself through your blurry vision. It’s a sight that really shouldn't turn you on as much as it does.
You moan despite yourself as the pain coming from your sore cunt turns into pleasure. You’re getting wetter and wetter as the seconds tick by, the glide of your partner’s cock becoming easier and more toe-curling. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he starts to punch that spot deep inside you. You’re getting hot fast, sweat building up in every crease and crevice as your pussy seems to get more hungry for what Marcus is feeding it. 
Each thrust sends you up the bed, but Marcus holds onto you so that you don’t go too far. He’s grunting like a feral animal, his body maneuvering every which way until he finds the position that provides him with the most momentum.  
“Ohh that feels so fucking good, baby,” he hisses through his teeth. “Gods, you always take me so f-fucking well.”
You’ve never heard him talk like this before—with this level of vulgarity. You whimper, making eye contact with Ezra as Marcus nails something even more delicious within you. His gaze is heavy and on your face rather than on your body, which surprises you as much as it flatters you. 
“Does she suck cock just as well?” Ezra’s deepened voice comes from the chair, his eyes still on you as he asks the question. 
Marcus looks down at you, albeit with heavy lids, for your consent. You nod, already fucked out beyond thinking clearly. 
“Better,” comes Marcus’s reply, his stare just as heavy as Ezra’s. “Why don’t you come see for yourself?” 
You moan at the thought of being taken from both ends, one of the domineering men on each side. This is going much better than anticipated, both your mind and body opening to the stranger despite your earlier protest. 
Ezra doesn’t have to be asked twice, already getting up to hover his thick cock over your face, slapping it gently against your lips. The cot is the perfect height for him to stick it into your mouth, though he waits. 
“You want this, gem?” 
You almost find it funny that he’s asking, considering he didn’t give you much of a choice earlier. You nod anyway, because you honestly do, your gaze is trained on it as your mouth waters. He threads one hand through your hair, pulling you into the right position, and then uses his tip to part your lips. 
He moans as he sinks in, his eyes fluttering shut as you immediately wrap your tongue around him. You find yourself groaning at his salty taste, savoring the weight of him as you start to pull him in. Your cunt throbs as he and Marcus both moan out at the same time, Marcus doubling over while Ezra bottoms out. 
Marcus brings one hand to your clit and begins rubbing up and down at a furious pace that would have made you scream if not for the other man’s cock in the way. Tears leak from your eyes as Ezra begins to pump in and out of you, his hips thrusting as he uses the hand in your hair to hold you where he wants. 
“Oh you feel devine, little gem,” he moans, his eyes still closed and his lips parted as he picks up the pace. You can feel him hitting deep inside your throat, making you resist the urge to choke. It’s overwhelming but in the best way. 
“Oh, fuck!” Marcus nearly shouts the curse as his hips stutter. “Come with me baby, come on,” he urges, moving his hand quicker. 
Your back arches up at the feeling, though you’re still pinned by both men. Suddenly, everything flashes white, your hearing going dull as your entire body convulses with the power of your orgasm. You have just enough brain capacity to think that this has got to be the highest level of pleasure attainable. 
It goes on forever, your pussy pulsing as you sob and moan around Ezra’s cock. You faintly hear Marcus’s own moans and feel his dick twitch and throb within you, coating your walls in his creamy white spend.
You don’t even realize you had closed your eyes until you open them again upon feeling your own drool dribbling down your cheeks to mix with your tears. Ezra coos down at you, wiping away the saliva though he doesn’t dare slow his pace. 
“M-messy little bird,” he laughs.
You glance back down at Marcus the best you can just to realize that he’s still hard as a fucking rock. He’s still riding out his own high, rocking slowly to prolong it as much as possible. His eyes flick back up to yours after a moment, and then to Ezra’s who watches him intently as he continues to defile your throat. 
The gurgling sounds coming from you should be downright disgusting, but they only add to the eroticness of what the three of you are doing right now. The tent seems to have filled with the thick scent and humidity of sex, making your head even more foggy than provided by your orgasm. 
Ezra’s not far after the two of you, grunting heavily and pulling on your hair to a painful level. He pulls out and strokes himself over your face, letting his cum splatter across your features right after you close your eyes. His thumb comes to your lips, making you open your mouth as he moans aloud. 
Some of his seed falls on your tongue, and you swallow it down as Ezra finishes the last few spurts. You open your eyes when you’re sure he’s done, panting and gasping despite your sore throat. 
It’s at the same time that the two men pull away from you, and you’re extremely confused until you see that they’re maintaining eye contact, seeming to have had a silent conversation while you’d been distracted. 
Suddenly, you’re being lifted by the both of them, your body being rearranged to their preference. You’re so fucking tired, but you do your best to comply with their actions. You’re being lifted onto Ezra’s lap when you finally understand their plan. 
His cock is only half-hard after his orgasm, but he begins rutting himself against you regardless as Marcus disappears from your line of sight. You half-collapse on Ezra, moaning as your clit gets stimulated thanks to his thrusts. 
“Second drawer, pretty boy,” he pants. You hear shuffling and then Marcus returning behind you before you get the chance to ask what he was doing. There’s a pop from behind you, and then a cold substance at your ass. 
You yelp at the unexpected feeling, only to be shushed by Ezra. 
“Hush now, gem. I’ve heard you have experience in this area.” 
He smirks at you as your cheeks heat. 
You moan suddenly as Marcus slips a finger past your tight ring of muscle, pumping a good few times before adding a second. He leans close and whispers praise into your ear, telling you how good you’re being for them, how well you’re taking it all. 
He works you up to three fingers before he pulls his hand from you and helps lift you up, propping you up enough for Ezra to notch his tip at your thoroughly soaked cunt. You help the slow descent down his shaft, your lips parting and eyes pinching shut at the sensation. 
Ezra chokes on a groan, squeezing both of your ass cheeks as you bottom out. 
“Fuck, little birdy, your heavenly cunt should be reserved for those of immortal status.” 
You don’t even have the energy to cringe at his wording, instead savoring the way he fills you so nicely, not as long as Marcus, but a good bit thicker. The coarse hairs above his cock rub against your oversensitive clit nicely, making you want to rut against him. Just then, you feel Marcus settle in behind you again, dragging you partially onto his lap so you’re over his cock. 
“Ready, sweetheart?” He asks, clearly having regained some of his gentlemanly status after quelling his lust a bit. You whimper and nod at him, and he starts to push inside of you. 
“Oh, Gods,” you moan, wrapping your arms around Ezra’s back and digging your nails in for stability. He hisses and increases his grip on your ass, keeping you spread for Marcus as his hips come flush against you. 
You’re already so full it’s dizzying, so when the two men start to move, you think you may come on the spot. Ezra goes first, pulling out a bit and then sinking back in, which is when Marcus makes his move, repeating the other man’s actions. Your knees are planted on the cot, giving you the opportunity to move with them. 
The three of you are panting, moaning messes, hot breaths fanning across each other’s skin as you nuzzle together. The pace starts out slow, but quickly picks up, increasing your combined noises. Both of the men start to grab at you, moving their hands and groping anything and everything they’re able to. 
You can feel their cocks rubbing against your middle wall, creating an intoxicating feeling that you know you’ll miss when this is over. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, being so full you can feel them in your stomach. 
Small whimpers begin to spill from your mouth, but are quickly caught by Ezra, who captures your lips in a sloppy kiss, his spend from earlier mixed between your tongues. It’s difficult to keep it up with how much you’re being jostled, so he gives up after a moment and instead opts to lick his cum off of your sweaty cheek. You’re pleasantly surprised when you feel Marcus’s hand come up to grasp at your chin, tilting your face so that he’s able to do the same on the opposite side. 
The two of you clean your face with their tongues as they thrust into you at a punishing pace, somehow hitting spots you didn’t even know existed. You let out a raspy groan, your hands scrambling over both of their bodies for purchase. 
A heat is beginning to build once again in your abdomen, pleasure licking up your spine. It only takes a few more alternating thrusts before you’re coming around their cocks with a scream. You tighten around both of their throbbing cocks, getting them closer to their own ends. 
Marcus comes first once again, still slightly affected by the drug from earlier. He bites onto your shoulder as he busts inside of you, slamming his hips up and locking in place, his hands coming up to squeeze your tits as his balls empty into your ass. 
Ezra follows right after, seemingly liking Marcus’s idea of a gag, and biting into your other shoulder. You scream again at the pressure of both men’s teeth, your arms raising so you can grasp both of their hair, holding them close. 
Your orgasm lingers for as long as theirs do, the three of you coming completely down at the same time. You stay in a sweaty heap for a long time, just trying to catch your breath and make sense of what’s real and what’s not. 
You all fall apart after a few minutes, exhaustion officially taking over you. You can feel both of the men’s cum leaking from your holes as they pull out and help you lay comfortable on the cot. They get situated next to you, and you’re all out like lights within the next minute. 
The next morning, Ezra’s waiting for the two of you with a portable can of fuel and an extra mask. Your departure is swift and unawkward, Ezra walking with the two of you back to your ship like you’ve known each other for years. It takes a bit longer than it should due to your body being practically fucking wrecked from last night, but both of the men help you get along. 
When you reach your craft, you all say your goodbyes, knowing this will more than likely be the last time you’ll come across this strange man. To be frank, you’re still a bit confused about what exactly transpired last night, but you choose to ignore it. Your head is pounding with what feels like the worst hangover you’ve ever had, and you’re just eager to get off of this nightmare planet. 
Ezra watches you fuel up your craft and then take off, smiling and honestly quite satisfied with himself. Neither of you even figured it out that he was the one who planted the trap and laced the dirt pit with the drug, nor that he may have let a bit more slip inside his tent.
***** I mean really, do we really expect anything less from Ezra?
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multific · 1 year
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At First Sight
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Aemond Targaryen x Reader
Requested by @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl
Summary: Aemond was angry when he heard of the news of his betrothal. He didn't want to marry, especially not someone he assumed to be a spoiled princess who only wanted his name. 
Aemond was absolutely furious. 
His mother would let him marry a princess who isn't even a Targaryen. 
Unheard of!
She must have gone insane!
"It is for the best. Her family has a great reputation and it will ensure a good future for you and for our family." Alicent argued. 
But Aemond didn't want to hear any of it. He was furious.
Every breakable object in his room was now completely destroyed.
No one dared to enter his room. 
He picked up another vase and threw it against the wall. The water in it and the flowers flying everywhere.
"A pureblood prince like me, marrying some Princess from a land... disgusting! How can Mother think this is a good idea?!" there was a knock on his door. "Who is it?!" he yelled, but as his mother came into his room, Aemond sank back into his chair.
"Aemond, throwing a tantrum will not change my or your father's mind. As I have explained, this marriage is important to the family. And it is final."
said Alicent before she left the room. Two servers arrived to clean the room while the Prince headed outside for some fresh air. 
---
Aemond knew you were in the castle.
His bride arrived and he refused to go meet her. 
Like a stubborn child he sat in his room. His mother had to make up an excuse about him wanting it to be a surprise to meet with his bride.
Aemond was still fuming. He couldn't be reasoned with. He knew his duties and he knew he should have expected this to happen, yet he was still extremely against this arranged marriage.
Knowing that tomorrow he would be married to this stranger, to this woman he didn't even want to see... it disgusted him.
You on the other hand were excited.
You heard many great things about House Targaryen, and you were thrilled to be handed to such a prince.
You were sad that upon your arrival, Prince Aemond wasn't present, but his brother was, and he was handsome enough. 
Of course, initially, when your mother informed you of this marriage, you weren't so happy, but you also knew your duties.
And tomorrow, you will be married to Prince Aemond.
---
The next day started off rather hectic. You were washed and dressed for what seemed like hours.
But the servants talked.
They always talked.
And you heard many things about Prince Aegon, and Prince Aemond. Their description of the family wasn't even close to how people saw the family outside the castle.
According to them, Aegon was nothing but a drunk who enjoyed women way too much. To the point where a young servant had to leave the castle. And Aemond was a cold person with only one eye. Aparently both princes were jealous of the other. Aegon wished for his mother's love as much as Aemond wished for the crown. 
As you heard the girls talk, you smirked, because of course they weren't as perfect as they made it out to be! Of course, Queen Alicient played her part.
You weren't sure what a family with Dragons would want from yours though. 
The only thing your Kingdom had were great soldiers, but surely dragons were better.
Your thought was cut short when your dress was finally on. You looked at yourself as one girl put the veil over your face.
"You look lovely Princess!" all of them said and you smiled and thanked them.
---
Aemond stood proud as he awaited his bride.
His anger was still not gone, but he managed to calm himself a little bit.
After his mother introduced him to the King and Queen, Aemond was ready to get this day over with.
Soon, his Princess was standing next to him as you both made your vows.
Aemond now moved to remove your veil and as he lifted it, his eye locked with yours. You had a smile on your face.
The first thought that ran through his head was how absolutely beautiful you were. Your bright smile seems to have filled the room.
He leaned down and placed a quick kiss on the corner of your lips before you were officially pronounced wife and husband.
Aemond's mind was filled with you. Your face, hair, dress, how soft your skin was, how amazing your lips felt against his, as he ran his finger over his lips, he could swear he still felt it.
And just how beautiful your eyes were, he nearly got lost in them for too long.
---
The entire Kingdom celebrated.
Aemond rolled his eyes at his brother who was already drunk. 
Aemond looked around the people, his mother speaking with yours but speaking of who. 
Where were you?
Did you already run away with another man?
No, you weren't the kind. 
Aemond decided to get some fresh air and he headed to the gardens where he knew it would be quiet. 
And to his surprise, after turning a corner, he found you.
Sitting on a bench in your nice dress.
Aemond had to be honest, you were absolutely stunning. 
But then, as you looked up, you noticed him.
"Oh, My Prince. I apologise for disappearing. I am, unfortunately, not a big fan of crowds and loud noises." you stood up as he watched you bow your head.
"I, myself, also came to get some peace and quiet." he admitted as he walked closer to you. "Please, sit down if you wish." and you did, while offering a small smile to him.
"I'm rather nervous, My Prince."
"Why?" Aemond sat down next to you on the stone bench.
"Oh, it's... I found you very charming and handsome." Aemond could see the slight embarrassment on your face.
"I also found you quite beautiful." Aemond surprised himself with his confession. But he didn't regret it.
Because as soon as he saw your eyes light up due to his compliment, a certain warmth filled him.
You smiled and looked away from him, slightly turning in your embarrassment. 
"You are too kind, Prince Aemond." the way you said his name, sent a shiver down his back. It made him feel so powerful yet so weak. He felt like he could fight a thousand battles and win. But he also felt like if you asked him so sweetly to do something, he would do it without hesitation. "I can only imagine how disappointing it is for a Prince of your status to marry someone like me."
"Why would you say that?" he asked rather confused but you still refused to look at him, he could see you playing with your fingers.
"All my family has is... a great coast and good soldiers. I'm no special like a Targaryen Princess. So, I would apologise for the disappointment." 
The words you spoke were the same he thought before he saw you.
Before his eye met yours. 
"I assumed, yesterday you didn't come to meet me and my family was due to your eyepatch, I thought you must have felt like I would be scared. I promise I'm not scared. I have seen worse injuries. But then I realized when the servants were talking that you might feel angry for having to marry me." Aemond stayed quiet but only for a moment as he didn't want to raise your insecurities further.
"I am not one to lie. I was rather angry when my mother told me the news. But then I saw you today, and now believe that I don't deserve an angel like you. You look so pure and kind, while I'm... the exact opposite."
"I don't know you enough to say no to that, I'm afraid. But my mother raised me to become a good wife for someone one day. And now that I'm your wife, I wish to show you love and care. I don't desire a cold marriage." you whispered the last part and it made Aemond grab your shoulder softly and turn you towards him.
Aemond was admittedly lost for words. All he could do was look into your eyes and with a simple kiss to your lips he promised to try his best to become the husband you deserve.
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wordstome · 7 months
Text
kingdom come - ii
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king König x princess & assassin reader
2nd person, no y/n, she/her pronouns, afab reader, romance, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, kind of age gap because König has been king for a good chunk of time but it's not really much of a factor, fantasy/medieval setting
4.4k words
tw: none
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Let's have something lighthearted and playful after the absolute Week the cod fandom has had, shall we?
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“What do you mean he’s letting you kill him?”
“I don’t know what you want from me, Calliope, I thought I made myself quite clear.”
“But…but that’s mad!”
“He is mad!” You shove the sleeves of your blouse over your arms. “But I’m still alive, so I’m not complaining.”
“Of course. Should I send word to your father about these new developments?”
You bite your lip. “No,” you say. Something catches your eye outside the window, and you move closer to have a look. König is outside, walking with one of his advisors while eating an apple. It’s a strange juxtaposition between the relaxed boyishness of him throwing the apple in the air and catching it, and the stark, emotionless expression of the mask covering half his face.
As if he can feel your gaze on you, he looks upwards, eyes locking with yours. You shudder and quickly shut the curtains.
“I can do this.” You say, determined.
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“You’re not eating.”
You stare resolutely at him from across the table. “I’m not hungry.”
He sighs, as if you’re a difficult child he’s being forced to babysit. “I heard your stomach growl. The food won’t bite back.”
“To be frank, I don’t know if I can trust you.”
“Who the fuck is Frank?”
You glower at him. “I know this is all a game to you, but I’m trying to stay alive.”
“By not eating?”
You look down at the food dubiously, and your doubt must be written all over your face, because König laughs. “Surely you do not think so lowly of me that I would poison my bride at the breakfast table,” he taunts. “That wouldn’t be in the spirit of the hunt.”
“You’ll have to forgive me for presuming otherwise of the man who asked me to eat a nightshade berry.”
He rolls his eyes. “One berry can’t kill a full-grown man. Or woman.” He takes a sip of wine. “And besides, that wasn’t the point of our little encounter in the garden anyway.”
Your hunger wins out over your apprehension. “Enlighten me,” you say, tucking into the food.
“Isn’t it obvious? I was testing you to see if you were going to try and kill me.” He points a fork with a piece of sausage on it at you. “Quiet, secluded place with nobody watching, plenty of exits. You surprised me by staring at me like a startled doe.”
“You caught me off guard,” you mutter. “You’re a very off-putting person.”
He gives you a bemused look. “You’re not a very good assassin.”
You bristle. “I assure you, if my target was anybody else, they would already be dead.”
“Tell me, princess. Have you ever killed anybody?”
“I’ve killed.”
“A human.”
“I know how to kill someone!”
“So that’s a no.”
You’re fuming at this point, your meal long forgotten. “It’s not to my advantage to let you know what I can and can’t do.”
He studies you, twirling his fork in an admittedly mesmerizing motion. “And your father sent you here, to kill me, having never spilled another person’s blood before.”
“My father prepared me my entire life for this.”
“Not sure that speaks highly of your skill.”
You’re already tired of him. “What’s the point of this?” you demand. “A smarter man would have either killed me or thrown me in a cell by now.”
“Not a smarter man, a boring one,” König corrects.
“So you have a death wish.”
“Of course not. I have much to live for. Eating, killing, fucking. Great fun. But not enough on its own.” His grin is near wolfish as he stares you down.
“You are vile.”
“You could be doing something about that.”
You look at him in mortified disbelief. “I’m not going to sleep with you.”
“I was referring to killing me, but it is interesting that’s where your mind went first.” He looks entirely too pleased with himself, as if he’s caught you in a clever trap.
“Fuck you.”
“Now we’re talking!” He stands up, and for one fleeting moment, you fear he’s about to make good on the offer, but instead he just wipes his mouth and makes to leave.
“As much as I’ve enjoyed this little bout of verbal sparring, I have somewhere to be.”
“You seem in quite a rush to leave my presence, for a man who seems so convinced I won’t be able to kill him.” If he wants to be a smart little asshole, you can too.
“Ah, believe me, princess. I would like nothing more than to spend all day in your lovely, murderous presence. But unfortunately, I have responsibilities.” He runs a hand through his tousled hair, and you studiously ignore the way your stomach flips a little at the motion. “I’m obligated to hear petitions.”
You stand up. “I’m coming with you.”
“Why? It’s fucking dull.”
“So I can have more opportunities to kill you.”
“Yes. Of course.” Again with that smile. You’ve never met anyone half as pleased to be in your presence as he is. (The only exception is Calliope, but she kind of has to be near you.) This man simply refuses to act in any normal manner whatsoever, and it’s starting to get on your nerves. You throw your dagger at the back of his head more out of irritation than a dedicated effort to kill him.
He catches it in the air with casual precision and keeps walking. “Too predictable, little one.”
You should be concerned by his razor-sharp reflexes, but it’s difficult to feel anything but annoyance right now. And…respect?
You get up and follow him before you can give yourself a chance to dissect that.
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König was right. This is dull.
At first, the concept of receiving petitioners seemed like an amusing prospect. But in practice, it’s all politics and people complaining about taxes.
You entertain yourself by watching König. He seems just as bored, if not more, as you. He appears to be intrigued by your dagger: examining it, testing the edge, handling the heft.
Some man is talking animatedly with his hands, bemoaning some property dispute with his neighbor. You’re sure that if König rolls his eyes any harder into the back of his skull, he’ll go pigeon-eyed. Admirably, he manages to push through—if it had been you, you would have just told the man to get out and stop wasting your time. As loathe as you are to admit it, König is a good leader.
“Alright, we’re done here. Tell them to go home,” König says, dismissing everyone with a flick of his wrist. The guards begin to push the doors closed when one last man runs in, near crazed, and throws himself on the floor, babbling incoherently.
“What is the meaning of this?” König demands, immediately standing up. The guards begin to approach the man, hands on swords.
“Wait! Please, your majesty, I beg of you,” the man pleads. “I have journeyed many days to come here and beseech your aid.”
König heaves a sigh. “Spit it out then.”
“Thank you, my king,” the man pants, pushing himself up to a standing position. “There’s a beast. In the south.”
“A beast?”
“It’s ravaging the countryside. It follows the flocks, but it doesn’t eat them. It’s…” The man swallows hard. He looks weary, run ragged no doubt by his arduous journey to the capital. “It’s taking our children, sir.”
König’s eyes narrow. “And you haven’t attempted to track it down yourself?”
“We’ve tried, your majesty. Our most skilled hunters have gone after it.” The man sways unsteadily on his feet. “None of them have come back.”
“Has anyone laid eyes on it? Is it a wolf?”
“None who have seen it have returned to tell the tale.”
König leans back, looking contemplative. One of his advisors speaks. “We’ve received reports about this already, sire. We’ve dispatched soldiers already but had no luck.”
The man shakes his head frantically. “It doesn’t leave anyone behind to tell the tale, sir. Not many people dare to go into the woods anymore, and the ones that do…they don’t come back right.”
“How so.”
The man’s voice betrays his naked fear, trembling. “They go mad, sir. Some think…some think it’s the fae’s doing.”
That seems to finally get König’s interest. He leans forward, his entire demeanor stiffening. A hush falls over the people gathered as the man invokes the fair folk’s name.
Everybody knows the fae exist. In hushed whispers, people tell the old stories: of when the fair folk lived among men and ruled over them with cruelty and trickery. There are some forests people know to stay out of. And when a newborn babe fusses just a bit too much, or a child grows up a little too quiet, the rumors fly in secret.
The fae are cruel, beautiful, and nearly impossible for a mortal to kill. If they’re involved in this matter with the beast, then that village is as good as dead.
Before König can say anything, the man fidgets and turns. You watch as his attention lands on you, eyes widening. Something his gaze becomes unfocused, misty, his chest beginning to heave as he visibly panics.
“You…they’re here…THEY’RE HERE!” With a crazed look on his face, the man lunges towards you, moving at a threatening speed. Your hand goes instinctively to your hidden sheathe, but your fingers close around air. Shit! König still has your dagger. You brace to defend yourself as the man draws even closer—
Like a deadly blur, König is on the man in an instant. The force of him knocks you backwards, watching in shock as König subdues the screaming, flailing man with cold, expert precision.
As if in slow motion, you watch with a mixture of horror and fascination as he turns to look at you. His eyes, usually a tranquil pale green, are blue. Vivid blue, with an unearthly glow to them that makes you wonder if you’re hallucinating. You feel like a butterfly pinned to cork by that stare, simultaneously trapped and admired.
He blinks, once, and his eyes are green again.
With what looks like no effort at all, he turns the man on his stomach and pins his arms behind him as he struggles and hollers. “Put this one in a cell,” he says with a deep growl. “We’ll see what he has to say for himself when he’s in his right mind again. If he ever is.” The guards rush forward to haul the man away as König stands back up.
He gives the rest of the room a cursory glance. “Well? Back to your duties.”
The gawking staff quickly gather themselves and scatter. König claps his hands together as if dusting off some nuisance.
“…Why did you do that?” You ask, unable to help yourself.
He gives you a skeptical look. “Why did I defend my queen from an attacker?”
You take a deep breath. Gods preserve you. “I’m not your anything.”
“Technically untrue. You are my wife, which makes you the queen.” He strides over to you and offers you your dagger, holding the blade so you can grab the hilt.
Its weight soothes you as you put it back into its rightful place. “I don’t understand.”
“I’ve already said I have no intention of killing you. Besides, it wouldn’t look good for me if I allowed you to be attacked in your own home.”
This isn’t my home, you almost say, but stop yourself. You’re starting to sound too much like a whining child, and you don’t like it.
You surprise the both of you with what comes out of your mouth next. “Thank you.”
He’s looking at you that way again, like you’re a puzzle he’s trying to solve. “You’re welcome.” He averts his eyes, hesitating for a moment like he wants to say more. Then he evidently thinks better of it and strides away from you.
“My lady!” Calliope rushes forward, concern written all over her face. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, just…shaken,” you say, still watching König leave. “I’m fine.”
“Simply outrageous. I can’t believe none of the guards got to that man in time,” she fumes, fussing over you in her way.
“Yes, well. König got here in time. So no harm was done.”
Calliope follows your gaze, eyes narrowing at König’s retreating backside just as he turns the corner and vanishes from sight. “I don’t like that one.”
“Neither do I,” you snort.
“No, pet. Listen to me.” Startled, you turn to look at her. You haven’t heard her take on this tone in quite a while: the last time was when you had broken your wrist trying to scale one of the abandoned towers back home. You can’t quite recall why you had been trying to do that, but you do remember the worried look on her face, and the sternness of her words.
“He’s not right,” she says. “Something’s wrong about him.”
It’s a foregone conclusion to say that König is no ordinary man, but something about the furrow of Calliope’s brow tells you that more is happening here than she’s letting on. “Are you going to elaborate?”
A strange look passes over her face, like a cloud briefly blocking the sun. “No.”
You wait for a few moments before nodding. Whatever it is, you trust her to know what’s best. “I see. Though I didn’t need a warning on how dangerous he is, you know.”
“You are a smart girl,” she says wistfully, straightening your ruffled clothes a bit. “But there are some things that are not for you to understand.”
“I have to understand, if I’m to kill him.”
She frowns. “I think you should put that out of your mind for now.”
“What?”
“I mean, you may have to play a longer game with this one. There’s too much we don’t know.”
You open your mouth, then close it. She’s right. There was something bone-chilling about the way he looked at you just now, but instead of feeling afraid, you feel something different. Curiosity. Fascination.
Not for the first time—or the last—you feel drawn to him.
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König’s been antsy lately.
You’ve gotten quite good at reading his moods, even when he’s wearing the hood. The rest of his body betrays him: his shoulders are tense, and his fingers are constantly toying with a phantom knife. He prefers to be fidgeting with an actual one, but it tends to make him too intimidating for that to be practical.
You’ve taken Calliope’s advice and taken to studying your target rather than trying to end him and be done with it. There’s a lot to notice, which is surprising: you’d taken him for some mindless hulking brute upon first impression. It’s clear that he’s intelligent, with a cunning quickness to his thinking that both impresses and chills you.
Shame he’s still as much of a raging pervert as he was in the beginning, though.
“You know, I wasn’t sure about you in pants at first, but now I think you should wear them more often,” he says, surprising you during target practice. He startles you enough to throw your shot off, the arrow clattering uselessly to the ground below the target.
“Can I help you?” you demand, giving him a venomous side eye.
“Not at all, princess. Just admiring the view.” He leans against a nearby post, watching your confused expression. It takes him shifting his gaze downward for you to realize what he means.
“Ugh!” Without hesitation, you nock another arrow and shoot it at him, aiming right between his eyes. He dodges it, of course.
“You can’t expect me to marry a pretty woman and not look at her,” he says smugly.
It’s an unfamiliar situation, being desired. You don’t have much experience with this sort of thing: not only are you the king’s daughter, but you tend to give off a chilly, hyper-competent aura that keeps men with fragile egos away from you. You’ve only had one encounter with a man: a shy kiss behind the stables, featherlight touches that sent tingles through your whole body.
König has never touched you, but the way he looks at you is enough to make you blush. You should be indignant, but instead you find you don’t mind all that much.
“Why are you bothering me?” you say instead of responding to what he said.
“Bothering you? I’m hurt,” he says, placing a hand over his heart as if you’ve physically wounded him. “I came to inform you of my departure.”
“Your what?” you ask, gawking at him. “Where are you going?”
“Do you remember that man who came to tell us about the beast?”
“You mean the man who attacked me? I’d forgotten,” you say drily.
“Your wit is as alluring as ever,” he responds. “I’ve decided to enlist the help of the most competent man I know to deal with the threat.”
“And who would that be?”
“Me, of course.”
You shoot him a confused look. “You’re leaving to deal with something personally?”
“It’s too perilous of a problem to continue throwing my men at,” he says, taking on a more serious tone. He’s toying with a knife again: a hefty, aggressive-looking thing with a jagged edge. “If you want something done, you need to do it yourself. Or at least lay eyes on the problem yourself.”
“You’re not worried at all about dying and leaving your throne empty?” you ask disbelievingly. This is beyond reckless, verging on foolish.
“Don’t start,” he sighs. “I just got out of a hours-long meeting with my advisors. Anything you could say to me, they’ve already told me a dozen times. It won’t change my mind.” One look at him tells you he’s dead serious, and won’t be persuaded otherwise.
“Well, when do we leave?”
“We?”
“Yes, of course. I’m coming with you,” you say, puzzled at his confusion.
“You are not.”
“Yes, I am.”
“It’s too dangerous. And besides, the journey won’t be pleasant. I’ll be traveling without guards or servants.”
“Why on earth not?”
“Too much of a hassle. I’ll get there faster if I’m traveling alone. Emphasis on alone. Besides, I would prefer not to be sending any innocents to their deaths.”
“You’ll need someone to watch your back.”
“And you think you qualify?”
“Yes!”
He chuckles at your indignant tone. “With all due respect, my queen, I doubt you could take care of yourself out there, much less be of use to me.”
You wish he wouldn’t call you that. It makes your chest feel strange. Which isn’t helpful when you’re getting mad at him for doubting your competence.
“If you go alone, you might not come back,” you retort. “If I come with you, I can ensure you don’t come back.”
He looks at you, startled, and proceeds to let out a hearty laugh. “You are full of surprises,” he says. “It won’t be like a vacation, you know. We’ll have to travel light.”
“I can handle that.”
“I’m sure you can. The question is, can you handle whatever beast those villagers are so worried about? You may not worry about my wellbeing, but I would worry about your own first.”
“You don’t think I can hold my own?”
“To be honest? No.”
“Then let me prove myself.” You step right up to him, so close that your face is nearly pressed to his chest. God, he’s so big. And broad— “Let me show you I can hold my own in a fight.”
A sly smile crosses his face. “Alright. Let’s spar.”
You blink. “Excuse me?”
“Let’s. Spar.”
“You want me to fight you?”
“What were you expecting?”
“That’s not a fair fight.”
“You came here to kill me.”
“Assassinations don’t usually happen during prearranged one-on-one fights.”
“Touché. But I’m not asking you to beat me. If I think you’re competent, then you can come along.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“I actively do not want you to join me, mind you.”
You let out a quick, angry breath through your nose. Infuriating. “Fine. I’ll do it.”
“Excellent. I’ll see you after lunch, then.”
You turn away from him and trudge over to a tree to pick up some fallen arrows. “What’s the rush? Are you leaving so soon?”
“Tomorrow morning, in fact. Just before dawn.”
“I can wake up that early.”
“No need to put the horse before the carriage here. If you’re going.”
“I’m not concerned.” You bend down to pick a few arrows out of some scrappy tough grass, and when you straighten, König is right there, looming over you like a threatening shadow.
“What—” You gasp as the knife König was fiddling with rushes past your face and embeds itself in the tree trunk behind you.
“I don’t think this is quite getting through to you, so I’ll only say this once,” he mutters darkly, leaning over you to whisper directly into your ear, his hand firmly gripping the knife above your head. “You have nothing to prove to me, and I don’t know what you’re trying to do by insisting you come with me. If you change your mind now, we need not speak about this again.”
You glare up at him. “You’re not going to change my mind. And it’s quite suspicious that you’re trying to.”
“Is it really so difficult to believe that I’m concerned for your welfare?”
You don’t understand him. Being this close to him isn’t helping you think straight, either. There’s no other way to describe it, but it’s almost like you can feel the intensity radiating off him. He smells like pine needles and lye, and some distinctly manly musk that you don’t dislike. And when he’s up close like this, you can see every detail of his eyes, the green streaked with blue and brown.
“It would be easier if you weren’t,” you whisper.
He snorts. “Don’t I know it.” Before you can process what the hell he means by that, he’s pulling his knife out of the tree and stalking off, suddenly in some sulky mood.
You stare at the deep mark left in the bark, wondering what just happened.
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“Again,” calls the swordsmaster.
You scramble to your feet, exhausted and sore. “This isn’t fair,” you whine. You’re twelve years old, and the man who’s been teaching you how to fight has just dropped you for what feels like the millionth time in a row.
“How so?”
“You’re bigger than me!” you pout. “And far stronger.”
“That isn’t always an advantage, you know,” he says, doing a flourish with his practice sword that you vow right there and then to master someday.
“How? That’s all fighting is. It’s just big people beating up the little people.”
“Being smaller just means you have to be nimbler.” He gestures for you to come at him again. “Don’t focus on trying to hit me in the chest. Use your size to your advantage and focus on weak points.”
You brandish the practice sword again and ground yourself, steeling yourself with a deep breath before charging. You go for the knees, smacking them so hard that they buckle, bringing your instructor down with a shout.
“I did it!” you beam proudly.
“A little unorthodox, but the job is done,” he pants. “Remember, there is no decorum when you are fighting for your life. It is imperative you intuit your enemy’s weak points and exploit them. Even the strongest enemy can be brought low.”
You nod with determination. “Always go for the knees.” That draws a laugh out of your instructor.
There’s something deeply unnerving about the way this man moves.
König is so big, but he doesn’t move like it. The way he paces reminds you of a big cat: all intimidation and quiet, deadly strength on light feet.
“I’ll let you make the first move,” he says with a crooked smile. He looks deliciously rumpled, the sleeves of his shirt pushed to his elbows. You’re only looking at the swell of his biceps for tactical reasons, of course. Of course.
“How generous,” you reply. Without hesitation, you lunge at him.
He’s ready for you, of course. He matches you hit for hit, parrying you effortlessly. If you thought he was fast before, there’s something downright inhuman about it now. You doubt he’s even breaking a sweat.
He pushes you back, sliding on your feet a little. “Do you seriously have one hand behind your back right now?” you hiss.
“You’re as difficult to fend off as a feather,” he shoots back.
It’s like having a conversation, sparring with him. More than just the banter, of course. You trade blows, each unable to move in too closely to the other. He may be strong, but you’re fast. And you can tell you’re wearing him down.
“Getting tired, big boy?” you taunt.
“Of waiting for you to give up? Perhaps,” he grits out. “Don’t try my patience, princess.”
“I want to watch you squirm,” you respond. You watch as König’s eyes widen slightly. You jump at the opportunity, taking advantage of his moment of shock to knock him off balance and pinning him underneath you.
“That wasn’t so hard,” you purr as he pants under you. “Feel familiar?”
“Last time we were in this position, it didn’t end so well for you,” König shoots back. He can say whatever he wants, but you’ve visibly winded him.
“This time, I went for the knees.”
“Oh?”
“You have buttons that are very entertaining to push, your highness.”
“You little—”
It’s quick. One moment he’s pinned underneath you, and another moment some supernatural strength has him rapidly reversing your positions. He catches you off guard, and you spot a flash of blue in his eyes as the wind is knocked out of your lungs.
“Next time you have an enemy pinned like that, finish the job instead of crowing about your victory,” he hisses.
You wheeze a little before shooting him a coy look. “Struck a nerve, did I?”
“You are an infuriating little minx,” he says, visibly frustrated. He stands up, offering you a helping hand.
You take it, springing up with a little bounce to your step. “Well?”
“Well what?”
“Am I coming with you?”
He sighs in consternation. “I suppose you are.”
You give him a little pat on the face. His exposed cheek is warm underneath your palm as he looks at you with an indecipherable expression.
“Glad we sorted that out. See you at dinner,” you say sweetly.
You prance off without a look back. You could use a bath.
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MOOOOOOOM THEY'RE FLIRTINGGG
I started out unsure of how this chapter was going to turn out, as it's mostly just setup for the plot to get going. But I ended up having a lot of fun, and some pretty important things are set up in this. I hope you guys enjoyed it! Comments and feedback are of course always appreciated <3
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