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#don't listen to what lilac says
tango-of-webs · 8 months
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mentally I'm holding a tiny microphone to you. are you silly? or are you just a homo?
can't I be both? just silly, no homo here!
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sophie-looks-at-stuff · 3 months
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The Dragon and the Dragon-less
Pairing: Aemond x Strong niece reader
Summary: The night Aemond had lost his eye, his sweet niece was the only one to provide him any sense of comfort. Many years later, when she returns to Kings Landing with her family, what should become of the two? ;)
Warnings: bad ship terminology (idk boats y'all sorry), Rhaenyra being kind of a bad mom (love her tho), Targcest/incest, softer Aemond, smut in the dragon pits, this one is kind of long haha
AN: Hey y'all! Since my first fic seemed to be received so well (thanks so much to everyone for that:) I decided to write another one! I'm staying on the Aemond train since I've never left it since day one haha. Let me know tho if there are any requests!
PS: I haven't gone through and totally edited this so don't mind the spelling or grammar issues if there are any!!
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It had been awful, you remembered hearing the screaming and shouting from your chambers. The screeching having woken you up from a rather pleasant dream about eating cake–
In nothing but your night clothes, and a quilt draped around your shoulders, you padded down the chilly hallways of Dragonstone. 
“ – it was my sons who were attacked!” You hear your mother yell. Concerned you took a few more steps forward, finally able to make out the scene before you. Your mother and your brothers to one side, while Alicent and her boys on the other, the fire raging in the hearth between them. 
Your wide lilac eyes meet those of your stepfather, Prince Daemon, he reaches a hand out towards you as if to say “Come here”. Your feet did not move, rooted to the spot, eyes glancing around the room once more. You see something you hadn’t noticed before, Aemond, in the corner of the room, surrounded by maesters. A hand over his eye, thick, sticky fluid oozing from between his small fingers. Gasping, your own hands fly to cover your lips, perhaps to muffle the noise, or maybe to tame the scream building in your throat. Aemond’s healthy eye meets yours, pain, sadness but most of all fury over taking his features. 
Just then your mother turns to meet you, her gaze worried and frantic, “My sweet girl! You should return to your chambers this is no sight for you dearest,” her hand, also bloody you notice, rests above her heart.
“Mother, w-what has happened? Aemond, h-he, is he alright–” You begin to question, Daemon takes a step towards you and you take one forward into the room. Your concerned gaze flits over to Aemond once more. Despite the fire in the hearth, the chill of the room has set into your bones, causing you to pull the quilt tighter around your shoulders. 
“Come now byka zaldrīzes (little dragon) let us return you to your quarters. Aemond will be fine,” Your father attempts to comfort you. Maybe you are too tired to argue, or too shocked, your mind still attempting to comprehend what has happened. But you let your father guide you back to your chambers, the quilt trailing behind you like a cloak. 
With a lullaby and a pat on the head, Daemon bids you good night once more. Closing the door softly behind him, his heavy footsteps receding off into the distance, presumably back to your mother and brothers. It feels like hours as you stare at the ceiling, listening, straining your ears for even just a morsel of information. But the halls beyond your door remain as silent as the grave. The chill in your bones is stubborn, making you shiver. Sitting up and swinging your feet over the side of the bed, you wrap the quilt around your shoulders once again. As silently as possible, you open the door, the hall is empty save for the torches lining the walls. You’re bathed in the fiery orange glow as you step fully into the hall. 
You’re not quite sure where your feet carry you until you turn the corner and are met with Ser Criston Cole. His tall stature taking up the door frame of the young prince's room, his gold cloak behind him like an inverse shadow. It’s not until you come to stand in front of him that he addresses you. 
“Princess, you should not be here. You should return to your chambers,” He looks down his nose at you. Your knuckles turn white from the tight grip you have on the quilt.
“Please, Ser, I must see the Prince. What has happened to him? I must know if he is alright–” 
“Your brothers have maimed him. Who’s to say you aren’t here to do the same? Perhaps your whore of a –” The door behind him creaks a bit, one of the maesters appears in its place. Bloodied rags and a needle are held in his hands. He sighs “The prince says she may pass Ser Cole,”
With one last look of annoyance and a warning mumbled under his breath, the knight lets you pass. The room is dark, lit only by a few candles on the bedside table. Aemond’s hunched form lays on the bed, the blankets up to his chin. As you make your way closer you can see the true horror of what has happened this evening. Where his eye once was, now lays only marred flesh, red and angry, the stitches pull at the swollen skin. You gasp, shocked, a sick feeling settling into the pit of your stomach.
“Ugly isn’t it?” Aemond asks you, bitterness lacing his voice. As he speaks you make your way to his side, sitting lightly on the bed, next to his hip. Your small hand searching for his under the covers, to comfort him, or maybe to warm your own. 
“H-how did this happen? Who could possibly have–”
“Your brothers. Lucerys stole my eye. But an eye for a dragon is a fair price to pay is it not niece?” A proud, sad smile graces his features. While your brothers had dragons since they were but babes, you were not as lucky. Syrax had not laid a full nest, and your mother had decided it was best to give your brothers the two eggs. All the while you have remained dragonless. 
“Vhagar is now mine, and on the morrow, we shall leave this wretched place. And I will fly on dragon back to the Red Keep.” His singular lilac eye meets yours. “I promise you, sweet niece, one day I shall take you for a ride on dragon back. Show you the freedom that comes with it,” His previously bloodied fingers intertwined with yours. 
“I would like that very much uncle,” Looking down at your joined hands, a small smile of your own matching his. 
— — — — — — —
The waters of the sea lap against the side of the ship, the slap against the wood echoing around you. Overpowered only by the screeching of your family's dragons above you. Alone, you ride on this ship, well alone save for the ship hands and captain assigned by your father. Still, at the age of nine and ten, you remain dragonless, made to travel to the Red Keep by boat.
Your brothers claim to Driftmark had come into question, prompting the visit back to your old home. You hadn’t been back here since–
Your mother and father had determined it best to keep the family at Dragonstone after Aemond lost his eye. Although you had always suspected part of the reasoning for that was your mothers fear of retribution from Alicent for what your brother had done. Perhaps it was a long time coming though, your brothers as well as Aegon had picked on Aemond ruthlessly for years prior to that night. You had been spared only by the simple facts that you were a little girl, and just weren’t in there presence as much. Despite your pleas to join in the yard for training you had been denied, and turned towards the library instead to study “things more befit for your station” as your mother had put it.
“We shall dock shortly Princess,” the ship captain’s voice drifted to you from behind the wheel. You stood on the platform with him, looking beyond the masthead, you see Syrax and Caraxes land in the dragon pits. You sigh, it looks like you’ll arrive alone at the Red Keep, not expecting your mother to wait for you. Her and Daemon needed to prepare for the events of tomorrow. 
Arriving at the Keep felt haunting, the lack of a welcome only contributing to that fact. Once docked, you were met by a singular carriage and it’s driver. The captain had assured you that your belongings were to be delivered to your chambers shortly. For all your fathers faults he did have good trust and faith in those he employed. The ship’s captain had been with your families since you were a girl. He and yourself not unfamiliar with these lonesome journeys. 
The gates of the Red Keep came into view as you rolled over the bumpy roads of Kings Landing. Gold Cloaks lined the gate’s walls, closing the massive gate doors behind you, shutting you in, locking you within the castle grounds. The carriage comes to a jumpy halt, the driver offering you his hand as you disembark your ride. Your fingers slip into his as your boots squelch in the mud below you, the clanging of swords and metal meet your ears. 
“Nephews, have you come to train?” A voice says, one you could not recognize. From across the yard you see your brothers, you wave to them, hoping to catch their eye. Luke turns his head towards you, a small smile playing at his lips. Noticing this, the source of the voice follows his gaze, a singular lilac eye meeting yours.
“Niece, how you have grown–” Aemond’s lone eye takes in your figure. My how you’ve grown indeed. Last time he had seen you you barely came up to his chin, your silver locks a messs contained in small braids. The flush that never seemed to leave your cheeks remained however. You had grown taller, still standing shorter than himself, which he finds excites him a bit. More than it should perhaps. You had grown into yourself in a way that was very pleasing to his eye, your face fuller and lovely. Your curves soft and plush, inviting him to touch and caress them. 
“Uncle,” you offer him a small curtsey. You can hear Jace scoff, as if annoyed by the action. Wanting yo say more, but not knowing what, you continue to look at one another. Your own eyes take in your uncle, he had grown taller, much taller. His muscles lean and corded beneath his tunic. His silver hair almost as long as yours, is pulled back slightly in a braid. Some hanging free, escaping their confines during his sparring. His eye was now covered in an eyepatch, made of black leather, the tops and bottoms of the scar still visible even with it on. 
The arrival of another carriage turns your gaze to the left, where you yourself had arrived only moments ago. Vaemond Valaryon steps out of the carriage and into the yard, sparing a glance at the Prince and your brothers. A look of disgust crosses his face as he lays his eyes on Luke. 
— — — — — — —
The meeting to question Lucerys’ claim to Driftmark is long and dull, at least in the beginning. Mustering his limited remaining strength your grandsire had sat the thrown. Disputing Otto and Alicent in their claims. He looks horrible you think. His skin looks to be gray and sloughing off of his bones. The Stranger would be coming for him soon. It is not until Vaemond brings into question your brother’s parentage once again, that the apprehensive peace shatters. 
“And she is a–”
“Say it,” your father’s hand that rests on the hilt of Dark Sister tightens, knuckles whitening. 
“ – a WHORE!” In one swift blow, Daemon sends Vaemond’s head rolling across the floor of the throne room. Blood trailed behind the appendage like a snail’s trail. The room is filled with gasps and short screams. Your own eyes widened looking at the head on the stone floor before you. By no means are you unfamiliar with your father's violent nature, and nor should the rest of the court. 
“Let him keep his tongue,” Daemon wipes the blood off of his blade, stepping back, sheathing the sword once more. 
As if some kind of magic pulls you, you lift your eyes from Vaemonds severed head and meet those of your uncle. A smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, he looks to be well entertained by the violent display. Caught in your staring, Aemond’s gaze rises to meet your own, his smirk widening into a more sadistic smile. 
“Now, for the final order of business. A more pleasant way to end this affair,” the king says, his mellow voice carrying across the stone-lined room. “I am blessed by the Gods to have such a large family, but it appears that the Gods hope to bless us some more,” It was becoming increasingly more clear that Alicent’s love for The Seven has bled not just into the castle but its people as well.  You think maybe it gives the king something comforting in his final days. 
“My son, Aemond, a fine warrior and scholar,” Aemond stands rigid and straight, uncomfortable with the new attention from his father. “And my granddaughter, if your mother had not already claimed the title of Realms Delight then it would be most certainly passed to you.” Your cheeks flush a bright pink, warmth rising to the tips of your ears. 
“This family has been divided for quite some time, I tend to rectify that. Aemond, my son, and my granddaughter the princess, shall be married,” The reactions around the room are mixed, some people applaud, some cover their shock with their hands. Wide, prying eyes jump between you and Aemond. You dare a look in his direction, he is still staring, the smile gone from his face now. Confusion, shock, anger? You cannot tell but it is not sweet, and it is not kind.
A wave of confidence washes over you as you step forward, “What is the meaning of this? Why have I not had any indication of this until now?!” You feel your mother’s hand grasp your elbow, urging you to stand beside her, silently. “It is the wish of your grandsire, byka zaldrīzes (little dragon). He is dying, do not fight him,” Your head whips aside, meeting her eyes, eyes filled with sadness. Did she know of this? Did she approve of this? Your father would not meet your eyes, nor your brothers, Jace toeing at an invisible stone on the floor. Did they all know, except for you? 
You tear your elbow from your mother’s grasp, she opens her mouth to speak once more, but your back is already turned. Your feet lead you towards the grand door. You had to leave, you needed to be anywhere else but here. Your chest tightens, your breathing ragged. Not with sadness or grief, no, but with anger and fury. You feel as though you could breathe fire as the dragons do. An angered scream tears past your lips, reverberating off of the stone walls of the Red Keep. 
— — — — — — —
You had decided it best to skip the family feast. And a good thing too, unbeknownst to you it had gone horribly. Lucerys mocking Aemond over the roasted pig, Aemond's “final tribute” to his Strong nephews. No, instead you had taken your dinner in the library, back amongst your beloved books. The sun had set an hour or two ago now, the torches along the halls lit. You didn’t know how late it was, you had been much too absorbed in your novel Lady Coryanne Wylde, A Cautionary Tale for Young Girls. 
The wax on the candles had burned low, and your wine had turned cold. It was time to retire. Taking the book with you, you began to make your way toward your chambers, your old chambers. The last time you had slept there you had been but a girl. As you turn the corner you are met with a hard wall of warm, corded muscle. Your book tumbling to the ground. A pair of strong hands plant themselves on your shoulders, to steady you. 
“Careful niece, someone might think you are up to no good, wandering the corridors, at night–alone” The smile from earlier returns to his lips, and just then, he notices the book on the floor. His smile becoming impossibly wider, you don’t think you’ve ever really seen Aemond smile, not like this anyway. It’s nice, you think to yourself.
“What’s this dear niece,” he bends down to pick up the novel, his slim fingers sifting through the pages, his eyebrows lifting. “Well, well, who would have thought–”
“Give that back!” You reach to snatch it from him, like a child, but he just holds it higher over his head. “Tell you what, I made a promise to you. Do you remember?” Of course, you remembered, you still thought about it sometimes, but all hope of fulfilling it had left you.
“Yes–” it came out more hoarse than you had intended. Your hand frozen, outstretched, Aemond still held the book over his head. 
“Come with me to meet Vhagar, for a ride,” he leaned closer to you, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. “Come taste the freedom of the skies with me niece.” He had tucked the book behind his back. Aemond wasn’t a man who typically waited for an answer, nor was he one who liked when people disagreed with him. He’d throw you over his shoulder if he must. Even though his hatred for your family ran deep, he could never seem to hate you. You had endeared yourself to him time and time again as children, but the night he lost his eye. The night you visited him, the only one not angry, the only one not repulsed by his face. He knew then that he could never hate you, no matter how hard he’d tried. 
Words had suddenly failed you, your tongue dry. You simply nodded instead. In response, Aemond straightened to his full, imposing height, and turning without a word, he began his stride down the hall, towards the dragon pits. You followed him, but neither of you spoke, the halls of the Red Keep filled with an odd sort of comfortable silence. His hair had grown longer, much longer, and he walked with a sense of confidence that hadn’t been there before. 
The night air was chill, a slight breeze blew through your hair, tousling the strands. You were glad you had worn a gown with longer sleeves, it must be chilly up in the clouds. Aemond was sporting his riding clothes, the leather over his tunic reaching his wrists. He looked good, really good, you thought to yourself. The flush from earlier returning to your cheeks, as well as the warmth in the tips of your ears. 
Aemond comes to a stop before the pits, waiting for you, the book still behind his back, taunting you. You suppose that was his insurance policy in case you had said no to joining him. You can only imagine your father's reaction to seeing you read such debauchery. You were his sweet little girl after all…
“Come now niece, no harm shall come to you while I am near,” He held his hand out to you, and you slipped your fingers between his. His hands are much smoother than the ship captains from earlier, you thought. His hand was warm, the blood of the dragon coursing through his veins. The sound of beating wings from up above drew you out of your daze. A dark shadow crossed over the pair of you, coming to land only several passes in front of you. Vhagar stood proud and strong, if not slightly tired. Her form was weathered by time and battle. It’s a blessing from the Gods that she can still take to the skies as she does. 
Aemond drew you nearer to her, your hand still held tightly in his, like all those years ago. “Give her a pat, she won’t bite, not unless I tell her to,” He chuckled a bit at his own joke, your eyes widening slightly, making him laugh all the more. “No need to be frightened, she’s quite gentle actually,” He guided your hand up to the beast's snout, his fingers had moved to circle your wrists, making the action easier. Your hand lay splayed out before you against Vhagar’s scales, her skin impossibly hot. The hand on your wrists moves to cover your own on the dragon. From behind you, Aemonds other hand rests on your waist lightly, like a whisper on the wind. Mayhaps this marriage won’t be too bad after all? Your anger from earlier was not directed at him you realize, but rather at the other members of your family. You were never pleased when things were kept from you when you were lied to. You like his hand there, you like it a lot, it provides you a sense of comfort and security as you stand before this large beast. You wonder how his calloused hands would feel elsewhere…
Aemond retracts his hand, yours following closely behind, you can still feel the heat of Vhagar’s scales on the skin of your palms. You begin to be tugged backward in the direction of Vhagar’s saddle. Aemond motions for you to begin climbing the ropes that lead to the mount, he follows behind you; prepared to catch you should the need arise. The saddle is less like a saddle and more like a small chariot on top of the dragon. It comfortably seats the two of you, and could even squeeze in a third. 
Aemond positions you in front of him, his legs caging yours, his arms reaching around the front of you to grasp onto the reigns. “Are you ready?” The question is whispered to you, his lips brushing your ear once more as he speaks. You rather like this position, the warmth radiating off of his body will surely keep you warm above the clouds. 
“Yes, yes I think I am,” Your own hands come up to rest atop his, surely just to steady yourself, and not at all because you were becoming increasingly more desperate to touch or be touched by the man behind you. 
“Sōvēs Vhagar!” Aemond pulls back and yells into the night air, sparring your delicate eardrums. The beast below you growls and jolts into action. She takes a few long strides before beginning to beat her wings, as she takes off into the crisp night air. 
Eyes glued shut you think you yell out a little yelp of initial fear and surprise. Aemond’s legs press tighter down on your own as if to reassure you that you are safe with him and his dragon. As Vhagar evens out her flying, coasting just above the clouds, you dare to open your eyes. Behind you, Aemond cannot stop the smile from spreading across his lips, he cannot see your face but he hopes it is a happy one. He’ll take you out flying every day that you are married if it will make you happy. He would burn the world down if it meant he could keep you safe and happy. To make you his. 
Truthfully he wasn’t all that surprised by his father’s announcement of your betrothal. As a boy, even before the incident, he had asked his mother and grandsire, Otto, what lords would court you, and if any would be good enough for a princess. It wasn’t until after he lost his eye that he first breached the subject of marriage to his mother. He’d told her he deserved it, that after all the pain he had gone through, it was only fair for him to spend his life beside someone whom he cared so deeply for. At the time his mother had just given him a kiss on the forehead saying “Perhaps one day, we shall see,” A sad smile had crossed her face then.
He’d given up on the hope of marrying for love after that. The ladies of court found him elusive and repulsive, opting to flirt with his brother, despite his marriage to Helaena. A few moons ago, Aegon had made a jest at Aemond’s expense, something about being tied to a Strong for all eternity. He had ignored it, deeming it nothing more than one of his brother's drunken comments. However, after the events of today, it seems he was not jesting after all.
Aemond is broken out of his thoughts by a lovely, bubbly sound. You’re laughing, your arms spread wide, fingers splayed out letting the wind rush through them. He immediately goes to grasp your waist, his legs still caged around yours, steading you, anchoring you to him and the saddle. 
“What the sweet Hells are you doing?! Put your hands back on the reigns!” He exclaims. You giggle some more, the wind drying your teeth as you smile. 
“I cannot uncle! You were right, this is marvelous! I feel as though I could rule the world from up here!” He had never seen anyone as dazzling as you were in this moment. Vhagar gave a slight jolt as she began to descend back downwards, causing you to jump forward a bit, hands grasping the reigns once more.
“I told you – “ He murmurs against your hair, placing a small kiss on your head. After another moment Aemond begins to guide Vhagar back towards the dragon pits. There’s a strain in his trousers he can ignore no longer. Years of pent-up desire and want boiling over. Ever the gentleman, he assists you in descending the beast. This time he goes first, his hand in yours as he helps you with the final jump down. 
“That was incredible, uncle that was truly –” Aemond uses his grip on your hand to tug you forward, clutching you to his chest, his lips meeting yours. You gasp into his mouth, surprised by the boldness of his actions. Before you are given the opportunity to reciprocate, he pulls away, a slight frown on his face.
“My apologies, I should not have–” 
“Yes, you should have actually. Why did you stop, I was quite enjoying myself,” You pull on the collar of his tunic, tugging his chapped lips back down to yours. Aemond uses his taller stature to guide you back up against a pillar within the pits. The two of you made only out of sight by half of a pillar, and Vhagar’s sleeping form. 
“And what if I were to take you, right here? Right now? Like a scene from your debaucherous novel,” He exclaims, his lips moving, forming a trail from your jaw down to your collarbone. Surely leaving marks, and love bites as he goes. Oh if only his brother could see him now, he thinks that perhaps Aegon would congratulate him on finally “getting it wet”. 
His grip on your waist tightens as he pulls you impossibly closer to him. He was everywhere, all of your senses were overwhelmed by him. The smell of the oils used to wash his hair filled your nostrils, the smokiness from Vhagar had made a home in the threads of his clothes. You’re nearly positive that you must smell similar, you’ll need to get your gown cleaned certainly. 
Your hands began to fumble with the belt of his trousers, your fingers making clumsy work of the buckle. Aemond pulls away only for a moment to assist you, then he begins to work on the strings of your corset. His movements were desperate and quick, neither of you having the patience to wait much longer. All the while his lips never left your skin. You feel him smile against your skin as Vhagar makes a slight noise of annoyance at your escapades. Somehow between your messy kisses, your skirts had been rucked up to your hips, Aemond’s deft fingers making contact with your small clothes. 
“You’re rather wet dear niece. Do I rile you up so huh? I wonder how wet you’ll be with my cock inside your sweet cunt,” He says that last bit almost more so to himself rather than you. In response, a small whimper escapes your lips. Aemond looks up to meet your eyes. A certain twinkle reflects at you from his. 
“Another night I shall spend hours ravishing you, but I need to be inside you, now.” He gives his cock a few strokes, preparing himself. Your eyes widen at the sight, his shaft long and thick, his head red and leaking arousal. It was, invigorating, knowing that you could illicit such a response from him. With a delicate kiss to your lips and one final look of permission, Aemond sheathes himself inside you. Your warm walls squeeze him perfectly, welcoming him in. Gods he could stay right here like this forever. 
“ – move. Aemond Gods move please,” You begged him, your walls had adjusted to him. Feeling wonderful and full. He began slow, his thrusts taking on a rhythmic flow. Aemond tucks his face into the crook of your neck, smelling your hair, his grunts and groans in your ear. You drag your nails down his clothed back, perhaps next time you’ll be able to fully leave your marks on his skin. Thank the Gods Vhagar had decided to remain put, it would ruin your honor should anyone find you like this; even though your virtue was promised to him already.
“Fuck– I don’t know if I’ll be able to last much longer ñuha jorrāeliarzy (my beloved). You are just too perfect–” He cuts himself off with a grunt.
“Finish then, let go Aemond, let got for me please, I–” You beg him, you need it just as much as he does.
“Not before you ñuha jorrāeliarzy (my beloved).” Aemond moves down to circle your clit, sending a shockwave of pleasure up your spine. The pace of his thrusts picked up, your hands remained looped around his neck, anchoring yourself to him.
“Aemond, oh Aemond, Gods I’m gonna–” The words that left your mouth made hardly any sense. The words and phrases twist and turn into a bizarre hymn to your betrothed. 
“Cum, cum for me Jorrāelagon (love), give yourself over to me–” Aemond begged you. His lips biting and nipping at the flesh of your neck. On his command, a wave of pleasure washes over you, like the seas crashing into the shores of Driftmark. You remember drifting off to sleep as a girl to the lullaby of the sea. Aemond’s own release follows closely after your own. Still nestled inside of you, he rests his forehead against yours, sighing contentedly. 
“You know, when I was a boy, I had asked my mother to ask Rhaenyra for your hand. I had begged her actually,” He chuckles a bit at his anecdote.
“Did you?” You laugh along with him, less at the story and more so at the ridiculousness of your current situation. You feel him nod, his forehead brushing against yours as he does so. 
“Well,” you say in response, “ I had always wanted a dragon of my own. I had begged my mother actually”, you imitate Aemond’s words, giggling a bit as you do, “but now I need not ask any longer. For I have my very own dragon right here.” You place a kiss on his nose as you say this.
“Well my love, no longer shall you be dragonless, not as long as I am around anyways,” Aemond reassures you. He supposed he had two dragons now as well, with Vhagar he would burn the world down, but you gave him a reason to do so. With fire and blood he would protect you, love you, for that is the way of the dragon, that is the way of Prince Aemond Targaryen, your beloved betrothed. 
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irndad · 7 months
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if you’re still doing flower prompts i’d love either Rainflower or Purple Lilac with spencer <3
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a/n: heyyyy im alive! writing from my trip, love you guys, don't know the wc! flower prompts
Rainflower - realizing that you/they love them/you back
It comes on all at once. 
Spencer- he’s never been particularly good at knowing when he’s feeling romantic. There wasn’t any experience with it. He knows that he’s hardly anyone’s dream guy- all awkward gangly limbs, too tall and too full of information that no one wanted to hear.
He’s carved out a little corner of the world that he can be seen in, that he can be loved in- but he’s never really been under the notion that someone could want him. Spencer knows that he’s lucky to have even this- to have people that ignite the prickly and irritating parts of himself and love him despite about this. And while he might fantasize, daydream about a life where he can lace his long fingers with those of someone who sees him only in a loving gaze of joy, Spencer knows that he’s not the kind of person that gets that. He’s being rational about it- most days, he’s able to relegate this desire to be filled with fantasy. 
Except- something has been up lately.
His best friend is probably the best person that he’s ever met in his life. She’s a consultant with the BAU, and it’s been nice to know her, in so many ways. She’s funny and kind in a way that never seems to have a victim. Spencer is not the kind of person that particularly values physical beauty, but she possesses it in such a large margin that it is difficult to ignore. He’s actually distracted by it sometimes, having to take extra mental attention to her words when all he is drawn to is the lovely curve of her Cupid’s bow, and the both light and heavy weight of her gaze in him. I like when you look at me, he thinks. She never makes him feel small. 
When they’d met, he was reluctant to her presence in most regards. Spencer knows that when he is focused, he can be a solitary creature, and that he’s an acquired taste. But she never seemed to need time to acclimate to him. From her first day, she listened to him when he spoke, and god, she squeezed his shoulder when she walked past him. 
She never had to try to like him. He was never a concession to her. 
This morning, she is late to work. He tries not to time it, but he enjoys the ritual of his mornings far more when he’s with her. He makes her tea and greets her first thing, and she asks about his evening the day prior. He tells her about whatever foreign film or Russian book he read the night before, a little too earnestly. She listens with her lovely doe eyes, sipping slowly as she transitions into her day. It doesn’t feel like patience with her- it feels like she actually cares what he has to say. Their routine is a warm radio crackle of familiarity, his favorite part of his day.
But she’s late today.
When she walks in, she’s a little frazzled and  so, so, adorable. She’s in a T-shirt that looks so familiar to him, and a pair of jeans that look lovely on her pretty legs. It’s a pleasure, looking at her. He wish he had more time to do it, wants to leisurely drink in the sight of her like he has all the time in the world, it never feels long enough to look.
Her hair’s frazzled and she’s just about 5 minutes late- Hotch hasn’t even come out of his office yet, but she’s clearly nervous.
“You’re okay,” he hears himself say, as she plunks down her bag on the desk, “I have your tea.” 
He doesn’t expect her to look up, but she does. She looks up at him and beams, and Spencer- his heart swells. She grabs the cup, dainty pretty fingers wrapped around the curve of it, and she beams her so-sweet smile at him, and god, his knees might buckle. Has it always been this way? 
He drinks in the sight of her, as she runs a hand through her hair in a worried, incredibly endearing gesture. She’s beautiful, he thinks to himself. He wonders aimlessly, that she might have been meeting with a man this morning. It might be the explanation for the dishevelment. 
The burning bit in his chest this causes is one that lacks explanation. It hurts in a way that he cannot explain- she is not a realistic dream for him to have. It’s not like he’s never thought about the idea of the two of them together. It’s a fleeting thought, like the consideration if your life if you could fly. It’s not a dream that warrants real consideration. 
But when their fingers brush, her light touch on his hand, he can’t help but wonder what it would be like if she wanted him.
“Thank you, Spence,” she says, warm voice dripping with gratitude and something in his heart warms at the nickname, “You’re my hero.”
She takes a sip of it, and closes her eyes in a contemplative, restful moment. It’s unfairly adorable.
He’s never actually thought about it, until this moment. But her beauty transcends just being pure fact, a thing to note about his reality. It would be nice, Spencer thinks. It hits him like a tidal wave, images of her gorgeous laugh washing over him on a Sunday morning, the curve of her cheek, a world where he can hold her by the dip of her waist, where her ever-present kindness meant that she might, could, maybe, love him.
Love him back.
She has whipped cream on her finger. She took the lid of the drink off to have the whipped cream. 
He is so, so fucked. 
“Have I told you that I love you today, boy-genius?” 
Even though she’s kidding, and he stammers out a reply of acknowledgment, it is in this moment he knows, with the certainty of every empirical journal he has ever read. 
Spence Reid is hopelessly in love with his best friend, and there is absolutely nothing he can do about that. 
It’s still nice to want, though. 
511 notes · View notes
queers-gambit · 7 months
Text
Blue Bunny
prompt: you and the Twins show up to collect the same debt.
pairing: Tangerine x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Bullet Train
word count: 4.4k+
warnings: Tan's real name being Aaron, Lemon's real name being Brian, Mafia antics, depiction of murder, blood, guns, brief physical violence, given nickname [ Bunny ], Daddy's Girl trope? dialogue heavy fic.
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"I like the lilac, what do you think? Maybe the yellow?"
"The pink's rather nice."
"How's about green? For St. Patrick's Day? Celebration of spring?"
Your lover chuckled over the receiver, phone set on speaker to the desk in front of you. "Think I prefer the blue," he replied, the smirk evident.
"You always prefer blue," you teased, handing the bottle of pale blue nail polish to your nail tech. "So, tell me, where are you now? Haven't seen yah all week," You pouted, placing your AirPods in to keep the conversation private. Not like it mattered, your nail tech, Collette, only spoke French, and she was the only other person in the room.
"'Fraid I can't divulge that information, sweetheart," Aaron sighed, "on a bit of business right now."
"Now? Like, in the present?" You chuckled, nodding at Collette when she pointed at the length of the acrylic.
"Yeah," Tan mused back, "say hello, sweetheart!"
"Hello, luv!" Brian, or otherwise known as Lemon, was heard calling. His twin, your lover, used the codename Tangerine for the contract agency they worked for - keeping their identities safe. Something you didn't necessarily have to worry about, being as your name held power. It was something like a shield in the criminal world, everyone knowing your surname dictated fear.
"Oh, hello, my sweetness," you cooed, grinning slyly. "What's it you two are up to? What sort of business are you on?"
"Ah, hang on a tick, love," Aaron mused, setting his phone down. You waited patiently, hearing a series of gunshots ringing out as you watched Collette paint the pale blue in sleek, professional strokes. Screams echoed over the line, tires screeches, several grunts of exertion, but you didn't so much as flinch, just admiring the work your nail tech did.
You blew on your nails, admiring the color.
Collette asked if you wanted to keep the paint shiny or add a matte overcoat, you humming, replying in French that you preferred the shiny coat. She held up a bottle of silver glitter, perking her brows, watching you nod - trusting her artistic eye.
"Hello? Still there, Bunny?" Aaron got back on the line, using your pet name he bestowed on you after your first date. You had a cold coming on, and after he kissed you, you instantly sneezed - nose screwing up like a fluffy bunny.
"I'm here," you smiled.
"Right, what color did you go with?"
You grinned, "Take a guess."
"Blue's your color."
"More like yours. I much prefer pastels, but I think this color's the best of both our preferences."
He chuckled, "Listen, yeah? You free Thursday? I'l be in your neck of the woods."
"Ah, I'm traveling this week," you answered with a pout, "what about next week?"
"I might be able t'swing that, yeah," Aaron agreed easily. "You hear from that Edward bloke recently?"
"No, no, I've told you, I'm done with him. You're quite the jealous type, you know, scared him off real good."
"Ah, well, don't like folks touchin' what's mine, now, do I?"
"Apparently not," you smiled, phone line beeping with an incoming call. "Oh, shit, I gotta go, Aaron, Daddy's calling."
"Mhm, and we all know you betta answer, huh?"
"It's how we all stay alive," you laughed. "Bye."
"See yah real soon, Bunny. Make sure your toes match!"
You hung up with a laugh, then accepted your father's incoming call, "Hi, Daddy."
"Hello, sweet one," he answered. "What are you up to?"
"Collette's doing my nails."
"Ah, very good. What color?"
"A pretty pale blue."
"Wonderful. Tell Collette I say hello. We'll have t'get her a sensational Christmas bonus with the way you work her."
You chuckled, "Yeah, yeah, I know."
"Listen, poppet, I need you to do something for me."
"Mhm, anything you need, Daddy."
"One of our associates is late on payment."
"How late?"
"A week."
"Oh, you're taking time in collecting," you mused, appreciating the full set Collette was detailing. "What's the hold up? Why wait?"
"I'm stuck in Prague."
"Daddy."
"I know," he rushed, "but I need you on this one, princess."
"Who's the associate?"
"Fella name Wilmer DeLano."
"I know of him, doesn't he own the chain of pharmacies? His son and I went to university together, right?"
"The exact same," your father confirmed. "I need you to go collect, princess, please."
"How much is the debt?"
"With the added week, chalks it up to $3 million."
"US dollars?"
"Yeah."
"Since when do we deal in US dollars?" You asked with a curled lip.
"Not the question I think you want to be asking."
"Uh, no, you're right, okay, sure, I can collect. Tonight?"
"He's not expecting it, knows I'm still in Prague. Take Rufus and Gunther with you for protection detail."
"I'd rather take Samuel."
"No, he's doing a different favor for me."
"Daddy."
"He's making a delivery, all right?"
"What about Gunther and Casey? Rufus creeps me out."
"That's fine," your father agreed with a sigh. "Listen, princess, tonight might get a little hairy, so I want you prepared."
"Daddy, I'm literally getting my nails done, I'm not handling a gun. That's what Gunther's for."
"I taught you better than that. You protect yourself, you can't depend on anyone else."
You nodded, "Yes, sir. Do you wanna call the boys or...?"
"I'll call them, don't worry. Just be ready to go by 8. Remember, princess, $3 million - and make sure you count it, too."
You agreed, promising you loved him, then wishing him luck in Prague on whatever his business was. After hanging up, Collette smiled, asking in French, "When are you going to tell him?"
"Tell him what?"
"That you have a boyfriend," she laughed. "He's your father, he'll be happy for you."
"I don't have a boyfriend."
"Oh, please," she scoffed, swiping the glitter on your nails. "That boy that you're always on the phone with? You're not hiding it, not from me."
You felt warmth flush your chest, heating your core. "He's still not my boyfriend," you mumbled stubbornly.
"He picks your nail colors," she grinned, "that's a boyfriend!"
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You double checked the address your father sent, nodding at Gunther in the driver's seat. "All right, lads, I want this a clean collection. Just got my nails done," you smirked, the lights of the three-story home still on and indicating DeLano must've been home.
"Yes, ma'am," Casey agreed, getting out of the backseat and opening your passenger door; helping you out, letting you readjust your clingy black dress. Gunther moved around the back of the car, grabbing the usual go-bag brought to every collection.
Slowly, carefully, you stalked up the long driveway, heels clacking with every pace. You let Gunther peer through the windows, him nodding before leading the way to the backdoor. It was simple enough to jimmy the lock open, silently swinging the door wide open and stepping over the threshold.
Casey went around the side to enter through the living room as you walked through the kitchen, surrounding your target. Wilmer DeLano was sat at his dining room table with his wife, looking up when you cleared your throat. He jolted in shock, but Casey blocked the only other doorway; his gun in hand, both clasped in front of him.
Gunther checked the rest of the house.
"Hello, Mr. DeLano," you greeted casually. "Oh, something smells wonderful in here, you cook this?" You asked his wife, casually strolling up to the table, Red Bottoms sounding over the polish hardwood floors. You plucked up a slice of roast, tearing a bite off and humming, "Oh, very good that. You're a lucky man, Mr. DeLano to have such a talented wife."
"Who are you?" The portly woman begged, flinching when you hummed and brandished your gun.
"Right, guessing you don't know," you nodded. "Your husband's in a bit of a lucrative business, Missus. Nice house, though," you gazed around, "lot of fine art you've got hung up, saw all name-brand appliances in your kitchen."
"H-He owns a chain of drug stores - "
"Yes, yes, yes, I know. Very true," you agreed, "but that's only a front, it's not the full picture. I'm here to help illustrate, if you will. C'mon, why don't we all go into the living room? Hear that's where the safe is kept."
"What is happening!?" Mrs. DeLano demanded, gun pointed at her temple.
"Up, up," you demanded.
Slowly, Wilmer lifted from his seat with his hands held in peace, "Okay, okay, we can - let's go talk in the living room. Just don't threaten my wife, she's got nothing t'do with this."
"For now," you agreed, gathering the couple to the living room couch.
"Boss," Gunther alerted, dragging your old university classmate and a previous lover, Edward DeLano, up from the basement, "found this one down there, smoking a joint. Rest of the house is clear."
"Wonderful," you nodded, gesturing for Eddie to sit. "You bring enough to share with the class?" But your old peer just looked around the room of criminals. "Guessin' he didn't wanna share," you pouted, then rolling your eyes. "Well, now that we've all gathered - "
Suddenly, there was a noisy crack and bang as the front door was kicked in, making all three of you gangsters turn with weapons drawn and aimed. However, you chuckled and dropped your arm when you realized it was the Twins, Aaron and Brian, or Tangerine and Lemon, standing in the splintered doorway.
"At ease, lads," you chuckled, holstering your gun to your thigh. "These are friends of mine."
"You outsourced the job? Out your fuckin' mind, princess? Huh?" Casey growled, not lowering his gun as Tan and Lem strolled in.
"Don't fuckin' talk to her like that," Aaron snapped instantly.
"Fuck off, Casey, I would never outsource, I know the fucking rules," you sound more amused than anything.
"Well, ain't this fun?" Aaron mused with a grin, strolling in casually before pausing in the open foyer as Brian tried shutting the door again - but it the very doorframe was shattered, making it impossible. "Sorry 'bout the front door, ol' chap, but you understand, yeah? 'S just business," He nodded at DeLano. "Bunny," he smirked at you, hands in his tailored suit pants pockets; polished Italian leather shoes gently scoffing across the floor.
Aaron magnetized to your side, coiling his arm around your waist to lean in and peck your cheek.
"Hi, handsome. Thought you weren't in town until later?"
"We wrapped a different job early," he answered. "Question is: what're you doin' here, love?"
"Collecting debt payment."
"No shit," he grinned, "so are we."
Your head cocked; leaning into his side with your own arm wrapping around his chiseled waist. You asked, "He owes my father money. You?"
"Owes an associate, too." He smirked at the DeLano's you two stood in front of, "Ain't that right, geezer? Got yourself into a bit of a pickle, didn't yah? Got a bit of a problem with the nose candy, don't'cha, naughty boy?"
"You told me you quit!" Mrs. DeLano hissed, "now you're in debt!?"
"I have it under control," Wilmer deflected stiffly.
His wife sobbed and begged, "W-Would someone please just explain what's going on!? Who are you people!?" Tears fell fast. "What do you want from us!?"
"This ain't rocket science, love, fuck you mean what do we want?" Lemon snickered. "You not listenin' or something?"
"Ah, right, well, I was in the middle of explainin' the situation," you told the Twins, waving a manicured hand in the air as if swatting away a pesky fly. "'Ello, lovie," you grinned at Lemon when he stationed himself on your other side, "good t'see you."
"Sweetheart," he nodded, offering a side hug when you released his brother, "been too long, hasn't it?"
"Since Cancún," you agreed. "Right, then! Onward, ho! Casey, darlin', would you be a doll and open the bag? Get us set up t'count up?"
"'Course, boss," he agreed, kneeling at the mahogany coffee table and unzipping the duffel you brought.
"Right," your hands clapped, the family jumping at the sudden sound, "back to what I was sayin'. See, your husband owns the drug stores, that's true," you allotted, "but he also launders money for the Mafia. For my father, my family. Maybe you've heard of him?"
You relaid your father's first and last name, seeing the Fear of God paint over the DeLano's. "What?" Eddie snapped at his father sat beside him. See, despite dating briefly, you kept your identity a secret from Ed. "What have you done!? Do you know who her father is? Know what he's done!? He fuckin' gutted his own brother - "
"Allegedly," you interjected sharply.
" - all in the name of business! You don't know what this family is capable of!"
"Yes, boy, I'm well aware, the man is my bloody business partner," Wilmer snapped right back.
"Well, not so much of a partner now, are yah? Just more of a fuckin' nuisance," You smirked, earning the attention again. "So, you see, your husband washes our money, earns a significant cut for shouldering the risk. Payment's collected every two weeks and as of today, your husband's a week late on delivering our cash load."
"I-I can explain, please - "
"No need," you cut Wilmer off, "because I didn't get t'where I am now by listening to pathetic explanations. I don't listen to excuses. Fact is, you own my father money, and because you're late, the total is now $3 million - and he wants it in US dollars."
"Well, ain't that somethin'?" Tan smirked at Lem. "Turns out, he owes our client some million, too."
You hummed, nodding, "Right, right, but see, thing is, if my Daddy ain't paid, he goes postal. Nasty business, truly messy, just a chaotic clusterfuck, bodies left everywhere, cities in shambles." Turning back to the family, you offered, "So, we're just gonna make this easy. You cough up what you owe, we won't blow your brains out all over this nice Persian rug. Mmmh! See that, love?" You pointed to the fabric you stood on, looking at Aaron. "That's real authentic, you can tell by the threading. Be a shame to ruin it, yeah? Exquisite work."
"Sure is," he agreed, "but did you see up there, Bunny? 'Bove the mantel?"
"Oh, yes," you breathed in impression, "an ancient Aztec tribal mask. An artifact, very hard to get your hands on. Heard the British Museum was actually lookin' for that particular mask."
"Seems like Mr. DeLano is quite the collector of finer things," Lemon admired, pointing at a portrait on the wall. "Oi! Is that what I think? Is that a fucking Monet?"
"Priceless," you nodded.
"Listen, right, we've got strict orders, yeah?" Your lover sighed, shifting his weight. "We're t'collect payment by any means, a message is t'be sent. Right?"
"That's right, yeah," Lemon agreed, crossing his arms. "Make sure this kinda misunderstanding don't happen again."
Gunther asked, "You need tarps for this?"
You refused, "No, we're not here to kill anyone. We're here to let a loyal man the opportunity to pay us what's owed."
"Listen t-t-to me," Wilmer begged, stuttering in fear, "I don't have the money. Okay? The government came sniffin', I had tax liens to pay off to avoid prison time - "
"More fuckin' excuses! Jesus, fuck, man!" You groaned. "Who do you think can do more damage - the bloody government or my family? Huh? Look, lad, I know you've got what we're owed, so, be a good li'l boy and open the safe. Huh?"
"Fucking do it, Dad!"
"What're you doing, Wilmer? What are you waiting for!? You can't play this game! You'll get us all killed!"
"I don't have the money! How can I pay with what I don't have!?"
"Why do I not believe that?" You mused to Tan.
"'Cause you've been in this business a helluva lot longer than he has," Tangerine / Aaron answered. "You know a rat when you smell one, I reckon."
You nodded, then pulled your gun out again, aiming, and firing at Eddie's knee to shatter his kneecap. Blood splattered onto the couch. He screamed in agony, you raging above the panicked cries and shocked shouts, "Do I have your fucking attention now, Mr. DeLano?"
Edward sobbed in pain, trying to staunch the bleeding, Mrs. Delano gasping and shrieking. "Do whatever they want, Wilmer! For fuck's sake! Just do it!"
"Listen to your wife, mate," Lemon advised. "Unhappy wife, unhappy life, innit?"
You aimed at Eddie's other knee, firing, causing another flurry of screaming, crying, and begging. "If you want your son t'only have two bullets in 'im, I suggest you get moving!" You barked, aiming at Wilmer. "Now!"
"Well, wait a tick," Tangerine halted, "if we're both on the job, how's it gonna look if the geezer's telling us the truth, hey? Who gets the money?"
"Let's find it first, darlin', distribute later," you breathed as Casey finished setting up the automatic money counter. "Mr. DeLano? I advise you to do what we're asking. See, I use to duck hunt - I'm an excellent shot. The next bullet's goin' in your son's head and I never miss. Now, where's the fucking money!?"
"I don't have it! Please!"
"The money, DeLano, where's the fucking money!?"
"Please - "
"You want a dead son!?"
"All right!" He sobbed, "All right, fine! Yes, you win! Just please, please! Don't hurt my family anymore! Please, just leave them alone! I'll do what you want, just - leave them out of this!"
You nodded, "Well, you fucked with my Daddy's money. Only right I cripple you in a sense. Hey? Now, chop chop," you checked your watch for the time, "I'm a very busy bee and don't have all night."
"You're a smart lad, DeLano, we know you would've wanted to prep for a comfy fall if it came to it," Lemon laughed easily from beside you. "Ain't no way you're bone dry, know you have money stashed for security. Just c'mon, mate, these two sickos consider this a sort of foreplay, they'll go all fuckin' night with yah if you continue to refuse," he gestured at you and Tan.
You tacked on, "Lotta places to shoot someone without killin' 'em. Just saying..."
Wilmer stood from the couch, his wife shooting across the newly vacated space to embrace her whimpering son. The money launderer approached the Monet painting and lifted it from the wall; revealing an iron safe. You shared a look with Tangerine, smirking as the combination was entered and the door opening.
"That's what we fuckin' thought," Tangerine sneered, seeing the stacks and stacks and stacks of money. " Fuckin' hell. Right, so, look, count up the lady first. We'll settle after," he sniffed, fluffing his suit's lapel, picking off a piece of lint.
Wilmer began handing stacks to Casey to count, one of your arms crossing over your stomach to prop up your other arm; hand limp in the air. "Faster," you demanded, the man sweating bullets.
"Oh, now, look at that," Tan mused, taking your hand to admire your fresh manicure, "you went with blue."
"Like it?"
"Looks real pretty, Bunny, but I know something these would look better wrapped around," he grinned, making you smack his stomach playfully. "You wanna go get drinks afta this? My treat."
"Sounds like a date," you accepted, Gunther storing the counted cash into the dark duffel. "How's it lookin', Casey?"
"Looks 'bout right, boss," he reported, handing over another stack of banded money. "You want me t'count the Twins up?"
"Oh, if you would please, darlin', it would be very helpful," you nodded. "But I'm having a thought, right? Stay with me, would yah?"
"Oh, go on, toots, you've got great ideas," Lemon encouraged with a chuckle.
"Not always," Casey snickered, "remember what happened in Texas? At that Western bar?"
"Oi, the electronic bull was not my fault!"
"But the incident with the tequila and donkey was!"
"Hush!" You scolded. "Listen, all right, you see, this fucker tried to stiff us all... Let's clear the safe out. Take away any safety net? Truly cripple him, set him back to nothing?"
"Sound like your father," Gunther chuckled.
"That's a compliment," you shot back. "Go on, I want the lot."
Gunther agreed, standing, and approaching the safe. He shoved Wilmer out of the way, sweeping his arm into the safe and starting to load up the duffel. "You can't do this! If you take it all, what are we supposed to do!? How is my family supposed to survive when leeches like you suck us dry!?" Wilmer barked, making the amusement drop from your face.
"Watch your tone."
"No! No, I will not! You think you're high and mighty because of your father, but you're just a spoilt little girl! You all break into my house, extort me - "
"Can you truly extort a criminal? For the money they owe other criminals?" Brian / Lemon wondered out loud as he meandered the living room, making you shrug.
"He likes playing victim," you mused, but in the time you looked over your shoulder, Wilmer charged. You gasped when his shoulder bullied into your gut, tackling you past Tangerine and into the coffee table, shattering it.
"GO! RUN!" He shouted at his family, Tangerine lunging instantly to wrangle him off of you; the breath knocked from your lungs.
"Got some fuckin' nerve, don't yah!? Touchin' my girl!?" He raged, throwing the man to the floor again. "Nobody fuckin' moves!" Aaron growled, gun pointed at Wilmer.
"Not like they can, two blown out knees," Brian grunted as he helped pick you up from the wreck.
"Yeh all right, Bunny?"
"All right, love, yeah," you answered and adjusted your dress, picking up your weapon as Tan began wailing his balled-up fist into Wilmer's face at a jackhammering pace. It was wildly attractive, watching the man you were in-love with beat the shit out of someone who offered you threat and harm. Then something caught your eye, gasping, "Oh, you rat bastard! You broke my fucking nail!"
You yanked Tan back; aiming at Wilmer, pulling the trigger to let a close-range bullet explode the man's head; leaking brain matter on the Persian carpet. You turned to Mrs. DeLano and Eddie, cocking your head as they begged and pleaded for their lives, but you weren't listening anymore. "Got it all, boss," Gunther informed, dropping the stuffed duffel. "What we doin' with them?"
"Exactly what my father would do," you decided. "No witnesses."
"PLEASE! NO, GOD! NO, DON'T, PLEASE! WE WON'T SAY ANYTHING, I SWEAR! I SWEAR! PLEASE! MERCY! MERCY MERCY!"
Three more gunshots sounded, Tangerine's gun smoking before being tucked back into his shoulder holster under his jacket. "Well," he fluffed his lapels again, sniffling harshly, "shall we be on our way, Bunny? We good here?"
"Oh, might as well - got what we needed," you agreed, grimacing when blood bloomed towards your expensive shoes. "Ugh, what a mess. I'll make a call, have this cleaned up, pose it as a murder-suicide," you side-stepped the puddle. "Gunther, Casey, take what you want from this place, get the cash back to the stash house. I'm gonna grab a drink with the lads," you smirked, looping your arm with Aaron's.
Lemon / Brian packed up their share of the money, following behind as Tangerine / Aaron lead you from the house; placing a cigarette between his lips and lighting the end, inhaling, tossing his free arm around your neck. The night was dark and brisk, refreshing on your clammy skin as you stabilized your breathing; always a little shaken after taking life.
Call it morality.
Once in their tinted Mercedes, Brian got in the backseat, Tan rolled his window down to smoke, and you pulled out your ringing cell phone to answer, "Hi, Daddy."
He breathed in relief, "Good, you answered. Means nothing bad happened."
"That's not entirely true," you admitted. "We're leaving now."
"What happened?"
You winced, brushes already forming, "DeLano got bold, he attacked. So we left no witnesses."
"Good girl," he praised. "You feel all right?"
"Yeah, I'm good. I'm actually going to drinks with some, uh, friends," you glanced at Tangerine - seeing his lips pulled in a smirk as he started the car and pulled off down the street. "Turns out, DeLano didn't just owe us, but some coke dealer, too. Right, love?" You checked.
"Right," Aaron confirmed, reaching over to plant his hand on your thigh and give a soft squeeze.
"Right, yeah, so, he tried lying 'bout money, I shot his son's kneecaps - "
"That's my girl!"
" - and cleared the safe out. That's when DeLano attacked me - "
"WHAT!?"
"Daddy," you reprimanded softly. "I'm okay. Actually, the hired contractors on the job saved my arse - they showed up after we did with the same agenda. Gunther and Casey are gonna take the cash to a stash house, I gotta call Mr. Brooks about cleaning up."
"Did you say contractors?"
"Yeah, uh, you know, from The Agency?"
"You mean hitmen?"
"Yeah, guess you could say that. Think they're more like contract killers? Verbiage is so fickle."
"Who? Who exactly was there?"
"The Twins, Daddy. Don't worry, they're absolutely charming, only took their payment. We're gonna go for drinks, yeah?"
"Huh," he grunted, "must've been some bigwig t'send them two. Or a considerable debt." You were about to reply when he gasped in realization, "Wait, no. No, no, hang on a tick, don't bloody tell me."
"What?"
"This the lad you've got a thing for, innit? The one that sends yah flowers every other week?"
"Daddy."
"Don't tell me it's that Tangerine fucker, princess, please!"
"Oh, no, look at that, we're heading into a tunnel! I'm gonna lose the call; talk tomorrow, be safe, good luck in Prague, okay, muah! Muah! Muah! Love you! Bye, bye, bye!" You rambled quickly, blowing air kisses, then hanging up swiftly.
"The hell was that about?" Aaron chuckled. "He mad we were there?"
"Not entirely."
"Was he mad you're gettin' drinks with us?" Brian laughed from the back.
"That's a little more accurate. Well," you winced, "he was a bit testy that I'm goin' with Aaron..."
"I haven't done a damn thing to him," he grumbled.
"You do have a bit of a reputation, bruv."
You smiled sweetly, gripping Aaron's hand on your thigh, "He's my father, 'course he's gonna worry."
"'Bout time he found out, keeping you two a secret was mad frustrating, yeah? You two are disgustingly in-love."
Tangerine squeezed your thigh again, sending you a bright grin, "That we are."
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requesting rules and masterlist
Bullet Train masterlist
834 notes · View notes
justauthoring · 5 months
Text
a life like mine.
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because you may think you're nothing, but gojo thinks you're the whole world (modern au).
a/n -> goooojjjjjjooooooooooooo
pairing -> gojo satoru x f!reader
tw. -> you're a prositute, implied sexual content, physical abuse (not by gojo), dubious content (not by gojo) also, not spell-checked :)
he'd noticed it as you were clasping your bra on.
a large, weltering bruise; the size of his hand and black and blue and everything nasty. something uncomfortable twists in his chest, face falling as he pushes himself up to rest on the crook of his elbow. when his hand touches your back, you jump despite how soft his touch is, head turning over your shoulder and frowning when you realize what he's staring at.
"it's nothing," you dismiss instantly. you brush his worry away and stand, putting extra care into stepping away from him as you slip your panties on; a matchy lilac lacy pair to go with your bra.
gojo isn't so easily distracted though. "who did it to you?"
and he watches, always aware of you and your emotions, as your face twists; there's a flash of fear that appears in your eyes but you blink it away as fast as it came. "a client," you say eventually, short and sweet. to the point. it's clear you don't want him to ask more questions.
gojo just stares back at you.
you huff. "some dude that came in yester—no, two days ago." there's a pause, body stilling, and then you're brushing out your hair. "it's fine."
but that uncomfortable feeling still weighs heavy in gojo's chest. he sits up, moving to the edge of the bed as he watches you clean and fix yourself. the reality of the situation weighs heavily on his shoulders—in a minute you'll walk out that door, put a bright smile on your lips and you'll do what you just did with him to another man.
"i've been thinking," gojo speaks up, eyes still stuck on that bruise.
"yeah?" you call out, distracted, "what about?"
"you and me."
everything stills then. the tense air thickens into something else entirely as your eyes snap to his. you stand there before him with a dark look in your eyes, practically willing him not to finish what he's threatening to start.
"sato—"
"no, just—just listen to me, okay?" he's pushing himself to his feet, crossing the distance over to you in seconds. his hands fall on your arms so as not to let you pull away, tugging you towards him as he smiles down at you; as if he's got the solution to everything. "we work well together—you and me. you—i like you. a lot. and not just for the sex. i like your spirit... i love how you laugh and the jokes you make. i like when you give me shit and i love when i get to see that sparkle in your eye."
you're shaking your head, lips parting but gojo doesn't give you the chance.
"it leaves the second you walk out that door, y/n." gojo breathes, voice desperate, "the second you're out there you're someone else. someone you're forced to be. and i know you need the money but i can give you that money. you don't need to... to—"
"—to what?" you cut in, voice sharp, eyes narrowing. "whore myself out?"
gojo's huffs. "i didn't say that."
"but that's what you meant," you shrug. "the second i go out there i'm not myself? that's what you believe?" you raise a brow, pulling away from his grasp. gojo attempts to stop you and you slap his hands away. "the second i'm out there, satoru, i'm not longer the girl you want me to be. that's the truth."
"y/n—
"no, you listen to me," you hiss, pushing him back by his chest. "i like you, it's true. we get along. you're nice to me... but don't think you're any different from any one of those men out there." your arm shoots back sharply to gesture towards the door; to the other side that is blasting music and filled with lights and occupied by men waiting for their pick of women like you.
lips left parted, gojo watches as you kneel down, grabbing his jeans off the floor and reach into his front pocket. a second later there's a wad of cash in your hands. "you pay me. just like them. you think you're better because you're some son of some rich daddy? because your inheritance is some big corporation?"
and gojo notices it then—the tears welling in your eyes.
"you're not. you may be prettier, smarter... whatever. but you come in here and you pay me for my body just like them. and anything we do or the way i act is because that's my job. to satisfy men by being the type of women they want."
you throw the money at him and gojo catches it, watching as you move to leave the room.
just as your hand falls on the door, he speaks up; "is it your job to let them hit you?"
and he knows it's a cruel thing to say. he knows it's mean and horrible and the worst possible thing he could say to you in that moment. but he's angry and his feelings are hurt, so he says it all the same.
your eyes meet his fiercely, shining with pure hatred.
"not everyone gets to choose the life they live, satoru," you whisper and something about it scares gojo cold. "so don't you dare judge me for living mine."
-
gojo had started visiting you four months ago.
he'd walked into the club one night, surrounded by a bunch of his friends; they'd walked in with their heads held high and the clear confidence that they knew they were better than every other person in that room.
your boss had dropped everything to greet them. shaking and honestly pitiful, he'd dined and served on them for whatever they wanted.
you remember thinking that it was odd such high-class men had come to your club. gross, old and fat men came to your club; not young, attractive men like him and his friends.
that didn't mean you expected him to act any different.
he was though. so different. sure, he'd been cocky and it was clear he was quite high on himself. he still threw flirts your way and eyed you, but it was different than how it had been with any of the other men that had before him. his teases were genuine flirts, could even be considered sweet. he didn't eye you like a peace of meat and when he finally had you alone, he'd been just as attentive on you as you were on him.
he'd paid extra and had smiled at you so sweetly you were unable to deny the flutters it gave you.
he returned two weeks later. then, four days later. and then, he just... kept coming.
three weeks ago, your boss had been replaced. it wasn't that you particularly loved your boss before, but he was nice enough and he was extra careful about making sure you and none of the girls were ever harmed outside of any kinks in the bedroom.
he was decent enough for the club you worked at.
this new guy didn't give a shit. not about you, or any of the other girls—all he cared about was money. and with him brought scarier clients. the first time you'd seen one of the girls with a black eye, you'd went to tell him and he'd told you to fuck off.
when you pushed, he'd slapped you and told you if you didn't shut up, he'd do worse.
the next night a man had chosen you and almost immediately he had unnerved you. the way he looked at you was nothing good; cruel and like he couldn't wait to get his hands on you. across the room, you'd seen your new boss looking at you and the glare on his face had been clear.
don't screw up.
that man, some big CEO of some big company, had kept you all night. hours and hours. it wasn't the sex that bothered you—you'd had rough sex before, especially considering your job. it was... the way he'd held you, the way he choked you so hard you'd blacked out. it's the way he'd hit you when you tried to fight back.
it was the things he called you and the things he'd said to you.
a week later was when gojo had came in and that was the last you'd seen him since.
clearly, his talk of 'you and him' had been nothing.
that man, haruto ito was his name, came back two days after. and four after that, and he'd come back tonight too. each and everytime he requested you and each and everytime he got more and more violent.
"—stupid bitch, are you listening to me?"
you're pulled from your thoughts as a sharp pain radiates from your cheek. you blink, stunned, only to find a pair of narrowed, harsh eyes staring back at you. it's haruto, and he looks less than pleased.
"s-sorry, sir," you apologize, ignoring the hurt of your cheek as you step towards him. you right yourself quickly, knowing it'd be worse if you didn't, and make sure to swing your hips as you saunter towards him, hands falling on his shoulders to straddle his waist. "now, where were we? i—"
he pushes you off him, without a care for you, as you slam into the carpetted floor with a cry. hand sprawled out behind you to catch yourself, you stare up at him in surprise.
"what—"
"i want to try something different tonight," he leers, not a care in the world that he'd just hurt you, smiling brightly at your pain.
your stomach twists, fear blooming through you.
"sir, i—"
"no more 'sir'," he scoffs, rolling his eyes. "i think 'master' would be more appropriate, no?"
swallowing thickly, you let out a shaky breath. "i, um, m-master, i don't understand—"
"just shut up and do what i tell you," he brushes off with a wave of his hand. "first, i want you to lick my boot."
he extends his foot out towards you, and your eyes fall on it, puzzled.
"sir—master," you speak hesitantly, "wouldn't you rather if i—"
"do it. now."
hands left curled in your lap, something horrible twists in you. it was one thing to degrade yourself for the pleasure of these men; to have sex with them or suck them off or anything of that sort... but to... lick his boot?
it felt... worse.
dehumanizing.
"i-i don't... i mean, this isn't what we're supposed to do. i don—"
"i paid for you," he hisses, reaching forward to grab a handful of your hair. he tugs, hard, a cry leaving your lips as you're forced to bend your body awkwardly to relieve the strain. "so you'll do whatever the fuck i tell you to."
"p-please, i—!"
he slaps you across the face, this time harder, before he uses that hand to grip your jaw, pinching, squeezing until your mouth is forced open and his face is right in front of yours.
his eyes are blazing and you realize that you're terrified.
"lick. my. boot."
he lets go then, dropping you as you sink into yourself, shaking and crying as a sob wretches from your throat. he pushes his foot in front of your face, lightly kicking you with it, and you dig your nails into the palm of your hand as you force your mouth apart and move to lick.
just as you do, you hear the distinct voice of your boss and pounding footsteps.
"—sir! she is with a client!"
"i don't care. get out of my way!"
your head snaps over your shoulder in the direction of the door. that was—
"what are you doing?" haruto hisses, grabbing you by the arms as he tugs you back towards him. his grip is pinching and you yelp in response, turning back only to see him pulling his hand back and your eyes fall shut, trying to steady yourself for the pain you know will come.
except, it never does.
in the midst of everything, you hadn't heard the door slam open. it isn't until, a moment later, that you flicker your eyes open in confusion, only to see gojo looming beside you, his hand gripping haruto's wrist in his own.
and his face—it's the angriest he's ever seen it.
"what the hell is—" haruto attempts to call, moving to stand, but gojo cuts in.
"is that how you let your client treat your own employees?" gojo asks, murderous eyes focused in on your boss. you glance back at him and it's the first time you've seen your boss look so afraid. "beat them? and you." he spins to haruto, and you watch as he cries out, gojo's grip turning painful. "you like hitting defenceless girls?"
you're shaking, you realize. shaking and crying. your heart is bounding against your chest and it's then you realize you're still naked. as your hands move to cover yourself, you miss the way gojo's eyes fall on you.
something warm falls over your shoulders then. it's gojo's jacket.
meeting his eyes, the concern in them, a fresh wave of tears fall down your cheeks.
gojo let's go of haruto, and before either him or your boss can say anything, his arms are slipping underneath your back and knees and he's lifting you to his chest. he turns, pushing your boss out of the way and walks right out the door.
a second later, your boss comes running out. "wh-where do you think you're taking her? she's still one of my girls!"
a group of your coworkers, other girls who'd heard the commotion, are standing by the bar watching. there's concerned looks on their faces, especially when some of them see the state of you, and there's confusion.
gojo stops right by the door leading outside.
"consider this her quitting."
-
gojo hadn't said a word.
he'd been silent in the car ride, having tucked you into the passenger seat, making sure his jacket was still wrapped around you tightly. you don't know how long you drove, all you could focus on was the sobs that refused to stop.
when you reached what you assume was his house (mansion more like it) the tears finally stopped. he refused to let you walk, opting to carry you and didn't set you down until you reach a bedroom. his bedroom.
he'd grabbed a shirt and some sweats, both which were too big, but helped you dress into them before tucking you into bed. he'd then left, only to return with a glass of water, a clothe and a first aid kit.
all without saying a word.
now, having just finished cleaning your words, you were desperate for him to say something.
"i'm sorry," you whisper, unable to handle the silence. "i'm so, so sorry."
and that makes gojo still. he freezes on the seat next to you, body tensing as his eyes slowly flicker to meet your own and then he's shaking his head. "why are you apologizing?"
the tears well again even if you desperately try to hold them back. "because of what i said to you..." you whisper, hugging yourself as your lip trembles. "you're nothing like them. and... and i should've listened to you."
gojo's silent for a long moment. it drifts, carries on and leaves you tense and unsure. and then, finally, he speaks.
"it's not your fault."
and his voice is firm, leaving no room for any arguments as he shakes his head at you. "i should've tried to be more sensitive to you."
nodding numbly, you glance at your lap. "how'd you know?"
"one of my friends visited," gojo starts. "said he saw your boss hit one of the girls. i remembered the bruise and i was there before i even realized it."
your eyes widen then. "the other girls!" you hadn't thought about it in the moment; scared and desperate to get away. but your boss would surely be angry about what had happened with you and that meant— "they'll be punished! my boss, he'll—!"
gojo's hand falls on your own, soft and warm, gentle. "don't worry about that, baby. my guys are there. they'll help them."
lips parting, you turn to gojo. "really?"
he smiles. "i promise."
eased at that, you nod. silence follows then, echoes for a few moments.
gojo is the first to break it. "i meant what i said even if i said it wrong."
you turn to him, confused.
"you and me," he clarifies and you blink. "i never went to you just for the sex. maybe at first, but never after that. i... i can't explain it but i could never stop thinking about you. you were on my mind all the time. and it pained me to see you stuck in a place you hated so much."
squeezing your hand, gojo shifts, leaning closer to you.
"i mean it. you don't have to go back, ever. i... you can stay with me."
your heart warms but you hesitate. "what about money? i... i don't have any to give you."
"i don't need it. you could live here forever and never work and i wouldn't care," he professes and something about the way he says it tells you he means it. "i have more than enough money in the world. but... but if you want something, i can help you get a job. something better. something safer."
biting your lip, you sniffle. "i... i always wanted to work with kids."
gojo smiles then; "then you'll work for kids."
you stare at him, stunned that a man like him would do so much for a girl like you. "why?" you ask, shakign your head. "why do all this for me?"
"because..." and he hesitates, inhaling sharply as he thinks over his words. but the resolution comes with ease and gojo's words are heartfelt and meaningful as he answers. "because i love you."
your lips part, stunned.
"you don't have to love me back," he assures with a shake of his head. "i know i used you the same as all those other men. but please know i never meant it that way."
you shake your head. "it never felt that way to me. i didn't mean what i said before."
gojo seems eased at that, smiling. "i'm glad."
"and... and," you start slowly, inhaling sharply. "i don't know if i love you... yet. but i trust you," you confess, meeting his eyes. "and you make me happy. and i think i could learn to love you."
gojo just smiles.
"that's all i could ask for."
379 notes · View notes
torasplanet · 8 months
Text
❝𝙃𝙀𝘼𝙍𝘿 𝙃𝙀 𝙂𝙀𝙏 𝙄𝙏 𝙒𝙀𝙏, 𝙄 𝙂𝙀𝙏 𝙄𝙏 𝙒𝙀𝙏𝙏𝙀𝙍.ᐟ❞
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I. KUROKAWA + F. READER
𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ; you don't know if ran knows how to eat pussy or just doesn't want to but izana definitely wants to.
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 ; smut, oral(f!receiving), cheating, mention of a threesome, pussy eating champ!izana, hair pulling, izanas a freak lmao, girlfriend stealer!izana, ran is kinda described as a dick, izana wanting to fuck you since forever, consensual phototaking, tenjiku!izana, praise, light degradation, petnames (doll, whore, pumpkin eater), teasing, prt 2 in works, actually came up with part 2 first, skin color not mentioned.
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“Yo Izana!” You yelled from your spot on the ground with your eyes trailing up the fire escape stairs to the window the white-haired man sat on just staring out the window with Bohemian Rhapsody playing loudly from inside his apartment. He was in a tight-fitting white shirt and gym shorts and his hair was a bit unkept than usual as if he had just woken up from a nap.
His lilac gaze traveled down from the bright sky to you, you were in nothing but a hoodie and shorts, just something quick you threw on before coming here “Can I come up?” You asked tilting your head and squinting your eyes from the brightness of the sun shining on your face. His lilac eyes stayed focused on you before he gestured his head inside.
A smile grew on your face as you watched him throw his legs inside of the apartment and turn his back toward you yet leaving the window open. You hurried up the rusty fire escape stairs feeling it quake with each fast and heavy step you took the metal of it peeling off and falling on your sneakers and onto the ground below. You reached the window and poked your head inside of the window.
You had come here to get away from your boyfriend, Ran. He was really pissing you off with his whole nonchalant act he always put up for every single thing especially when you guys were arguing. You didn’t even have to be arguing for him to do that, you could just be having a serious talk and his attitude would turn it into an argument.
All you wanted was to ask him about why he never goes down on you and he just laid there in his bed acting like he didn’t give two shits about you blabbering “I don’t know…”s and “Later.” not even sparing you a glance. You should’ve listened when Rindou told you his brother was lazy and not to date him.
Even when you two did get together, Rindou still warned you and you should’ve listened then too because you were just starting to get a taste of how much ran could care. There wasn’t even a grape in that fruit’s basket.
Izana stood in the room near the small stereo holding a CD “What’re you here for?” The Kurokawa boy asked not even looking at you as you climbed inside his room.
Truth is you didn’t really know why you were here either. You’d only been to Izana’s house twice and once was with Ran and Rindou, The other was just because you were bored so coming here when you’re angry at Ran was the first time this had ever happened.
You had one idea in your head when you started walking out of your apartment, you needed someone to do what Ran didn’t and your feet carried you to Izana’s house and before you knew it, you were already here so might as well go along with it right? You weren’t really worried about whether Izana would go along with it or not because it was obvious he would.
From the moment you met Izana, he had his eye on you. Every time you stepped into his line of vision, his eyes would stay on you until you left and they would roam around your body and your face often finding interest in your lips or your legs. You were sure ran noticed but he never said anything so you weren’t going to say anything either. You definitely weren’t going to say how you kind of liked the eyes constantly on you.
“Just wanna talk to someone.” You said sitting down hesitantly on the edge of his bed watching as he finally turned around after putting up the CD “Isn’t that what Ran’s for?” Izana questioned tilting his head slightly with a look of amusement on his face but not yet smiling.
Izana sat on the bed next to you as you shrugged “He barely listens.” Izana didn’t respond to that and leaned closer to you just a bit making his earrings that he seemed to never take off jingle and sway. He collapsed back onto his bed still looking at you.
“What makes you think I will?” He asked as you both made eye contact with your head turning to face him. That was a good question. Izana cared very little for most people and it was obvious to everyone.
He only listens when he wants to so the thought that he’d just easily let you talk is foolish “Because you let me inside.” Izana broke eye contact and stared up at his popcorn ceiling wishing he could just smoothen it out. He didn’t say anything in response to your statement telling you he had nothing more to say as you were most likely right.
You lied back on the bed too now face-to-face with him staring at him and his pretty features as he stared up at the ceiling “Izana if you had a girlfriend-” “I don’t.” You stifled a laugh at how quick he was to respond to that not even letting you finish your statement but containing yourself.
“Yeah but if you did, would you eat her out?” You asked and even though he didn’t know it, it shocked Izana.
Asking a question like that as if it was an everyday question such as asking someone if they brushed their teeth this morning was completely foul and out of pocket in Izana’s opinion but being out of pocket was kind of his whole thing so it didn’t weird him out. 
What really shocked him was that you were asking him as if you didn’t have a boyfriend who’d hate it if he knew about this, well he didn’t know if Ran would really but mad because he was a little sex freak who’d probably ask for a threesome if he knew but if Izana was him, he’d be furious. Great thing he wasn’t ran and instead was on the other end of the situation.
His purple eyes trailed back to your face with an unreadable feeling in them “Yeah.” His head now fully turned to you “Why? Ran isn’t?” It’s like Izana can read people’s minds or more or so, read their expressions. That’s one thing Izana has picked up in his years in so many different places, people’s thoughts are very clear by their expressions and he saw right through yours.
“No. I wish I knew why.” The tanned male hummed in response as he turned his head back toward the ceiling as a strong gust of wind blew into the room from the still open window “Sucks for him.”
Your face contorted into one of confusion as you continued to gaze at the male, clearly, it didn’t suck on Ran’s part if he was the one not wanting to do it so what the hell was he talking about?
“Why would it suck for him? I’m the one that’s suffering.” Izana glanced at you out of the corner of his eye and a smile grew on his face as if he found what you said funny. You swear you could see him holding a laugh in.
“Eating a girl out is one of the best experiences ever. He’s missin’ out. Anyone will tell you that.” Izana said with a small laugh looking away from you who was silent.”
It’s not like Ran’s never ate you out before, he did it one time at the very start of your relationship and it was great so why didn’t he do it again? He was clearly skilled with his tongue and his fingers “Well…he has one time and it was really good but I don’t know why it was only once.” You replied with a shrug looking away from the tanned man and you felt the bed shift making you look back at him.
Izana was now lying on his side looking at you with his head being supported by his hand and his smile was long gone “I can promise you I do it better.” It was like sugar was laced in his words as they spilled from his lips and went into your head, you didn’t even get to process it and just stared at him shocked he’d even say that.
Izana was always a straight-forward guy about what he wanted and what he thought but you didn’t think he’d be like that with stuff like this or with you because of his lack of words to you about any type of feelings toward you. He never went to hide his stares on you yet he never said anything relating to it when you two talked, as if the stares didn’t exist at all and YouTube was just the best of buds and he didn’t eye-fuck you.
However, when you did process your words…there wasn’t anything that made you doubt that he could do it better. “Oh really?” Izana nodded with a hum at your questioning obviously not backing down and excusing it with it ‘just being a joke’. He was 100% serious about this.
“I can prove it to you. If you’d like.” Izana said with the smile on his face returning, you almost giggled at his tone from flustered-ness like a high school girl. This was exactly what you wanted. Someone to do what ran couldn’t or…wouldn’t.
He sat up straight still staring down at you with a smile awaiting your answer “I’d love that.” You said with a lustful look in your eyes while you kicked your shoes off your feet and onto the floor of his bedroom. Izana didn’t say anything and his eyes narrowed down at you like you were his next meal and you were.
He sat in front of you on his knees as you placed your legs on the bed, he wasted no time spreading your legs and going to pull down the shorts and throw them behind him not caring where they landed but you saw them land right on his desk where his stereo was “Don’t think ran would like you doing this very much.” Izana said teasingly with his once kind and lascivious smile turning into a devilish one and your smirk didn’t falter and only grew at his comment.
“Yeah but if he’s not gonna then who will? No one can’t blame me.” Izana ran his hands up and down your legs teasing you as he pulled at the sides of your panties before letting them go and snap back against your skin, he did this over and over every time his hands found their way to your inner thigh growing oh so close to the wet spot that had grown in your panties “I don’t blame you.” Izana muttered with his hands stopping and his long fingers finding their way back to the sides of your panties.
He slowly pulled them off of you making you bite your lip from how he maintained eye contact with you the whole time. The look in his eyes showed desire as if he was starving and had been for ages.
Watching you trail around the city with ran by your side, the male’s lanky arm lazily wrapped around your waist either hugging you close to him or resting on your ass as you leaned into him lovingly. Izana wished that was him. He wished it was his tanned arm that was wrapped around your waist, his slender fingers kneading the flesh of your ass in public like it was nothing, his cheek that your soft lips were pressing kisses into. He wished he was in Ran’s place and after hearing how Ran hasn’t even been taking advantage of how he has you and how you want to get eaten on, he really fucking wished he was in Ran’s place.
If Izana was your boyfriend instead of ran, he’d eat you out every chance he’d get. He’d thought about it a million times when his lilac irises were trailing up and down your legs just wanting to pry them open and dig in. He’d ask you every day maybe every moment and he wouldn’t waste time the moment you allowed him to just like he was doing right now.
He wanted you so fucking bad and he never said it, to anyone but he sure as hell wasn’t going to hide it. It’s not like he could anyway. How could Izana possibly find any way to hide his obvious feelings for you and the want of your love and body?
Izana didn’t throw the panties to the side like he did with your shorts and placed them on the bed as if they were fine china while you were busy taking off your hoodie from the sudden increase in heat which might’ve just been the embarrassment of being the only one exposed getting to you “But…I do blame you for not coming to me earlier. I would’ve done this if you asked a long time ago pumpkin eater.” You giggled at his newly found nickname for you and put your hands on top of his stopping them at your knees so you could get your laughs out.
“Did you just call me pumpkin eater?” You asked in disbelief earning a small chuckle from Izana, you don’t think you’ve ever heard Izana laugh before today. Maybe even smile, you have no idea but you liked it. You liked it a lot.
Izana nodded lightly as you got the nickname and what it meant. Even in moments when he was sort of being vulnerable, he was still being an ass.
“May I continue?” Izana asked politely with a smile still on his face, he didn’t have to ask twice or raise an eyebrow for an answer for you to take your hands off his allowing him to move on.
His eyes darted down to your now bare cunt basically squeezing around nothing, he trailed one hand down there with his fingers tickling the skin on your thigh “You’re so pretty y’know that?” Izana complimented not looking up at you and circling your hole with his pointer finger making you whine out in anticipation while throwing your head back against the sheets.
“Been wanting to get between these precious legs since I laid eyes on you.” The white-haired male said slipping one finger inside of you slowly, he didn’t move it nor did he add another finger but it stayed there as his thumb slowly drew circles on your clit “Then why don’t you hurry and get down there!” You whimpered out your brows furrowing in frustration with the teasing of the bundle of nerves and no movement inside of you, he wasn’t even going to add another finger to make you feel full…so mean.
He blinked up at you but you didn’t see it as you were too busy whining with your eyes closed “I want you to look at me first.” Izana said with his thumb stilling and pulling out his finger earning a small groan for you. Your eyes fluttered open and you gazed up at him with pleading eyes, he didn’t move for a second and stared back at you.
Both of his hands went to the back of your thigh squeezing tightly before he lowered his head down maintaining eye contact with you until you couldn’t see his eyes anymore, you squeezed your eyes shut again your hands balling into fists from the attention he was giving your clit. Izana was making sure to give you as much attention as he physically could, he wanted you to know how good he wanted you to feel and the effort he was putting into it.
If he couldn’t have you and could only taste you, he wanted to make sure the taste of your orgasm was the best one you had ever gotten “Izana…” The sound of his name leaving your lips in a moan made his pants get tighter and he felt his raging boner rubbing against the confinements of his boxers, god he hoped you’d let him fuck you after this. He really wanted that.
To feel the warmness of your cunt sucking him in, to feel you tightening around him when he made you tip over your edge and undo yourself all over his cock. It was his most wanted dream and he hoped you would be his queen and make them come true and make his lap your throne but for now, it’d have to be his face.
Your hand went to his head and twisted your fingers in the thick and silky strands of his white hair as your back rose from the bed. You looked up at the ceiling remembering your darling boyfriend who was probably at home taking a nap because ‘the argument tired him out so much’ and it pissed you off.
Thinking about him was sort of ruining your mood and how Izana was going down on you like he hadn’t eaten in several days. You felt Izana’s mouth leaving your cunt and looked down seeing him staring at you his hand continuing to move “You alright there? Lookin’ kinda for a queen, aren’t you?” Izana said with a small smile appearing on his face tilting his head slightly and making his earrings sway and jingle once more.
You giggled slightly “Are you thinking about Haitani?” Izana asked taking his free hand and running it up your shirt and resting it on your tummy just drawing circles around your belly button comfortingly. You bit your lip when his fingers hit an extra sensitive spot reminding you that he was still going but you nodded silently at his question.
Izana rested his head on your thigh his hair tickling your skin “Then do me a favor…” His comforting smile turned into a malicious one with the darkest thoughts hiding behind it and you didn’t know if scared you or not but you knew you still loved it. His hand slipped from under your shirt and went to your hoodie you put on the bed and pulled out your phone from the pocket.
“Send him a couple of photos of me eating this pretty pussy. Make sure you keep ‘em too.” Izana said lowly throwing your phone onto your stomach before lowering his head back down not giving you any time to respond before he started licking your cunt once again. Mhm…you liked that idea.
Sending Ran a few photos just ready for him to open up after he’s done with his little princess nap and disturb him and fuck up his whole day.
You fumbled to grab the phone and angle it so you could get the perfect photo of Izana’s white hair sprawled all along your lower abdomen as he ate you out. You took multiple photos smiling as you did so and your smile only grew wider when Izana lifted his head to look up at you wondering what all that giggling was that was coming from your lips.
You made sure to take a bunch of photos of that sight. He looked so pretty like that. His lips shone with the wetness of your pussy, his lilac eyes shining focused on you his white lashes fluttering with every blink as the sun shined through the window making his tan skin glow like he was an angel sent from above just to treat you how you’ve wanted to be.
Actually no…he wasn’t an angel. Izana was a king. The prettiest one you had ever seen and he was marking you as his queen with his fingers shaping your cunt to fit his fingers and tongue perfectly, he reached over and grabbed the phone from your hands and scrolled through the camera roll still making you moan with his fingers running along the walls of your cunt hitting all those spongy spots “Took a bunch of pictures, must really like how I look.” Izana said smiling at you as he threw the phone on the bed.
You nodded your tongue lolling out “I do!” You shouted.
You didn’t know if he sent the pictures just then or if he was going to do it later but it didn’t matter because he was still putting your pleasure over getting back at Ran. As badly as he wanted to, he wanted you to feel good first.
“Aw, I like your face too doll.” Izana complimented with a smile bringing his fingers out before placing his hand on your inner thigh spreading them further apart so he could have better access.
You wondered if Izana ate other girls he fucked with like this or if you were special and he was doing his absolute best and it was probably that. If it wasn’t, you’d be in pure disbelief because you just couldn’t believe that this was his regular pussy eating skills…you could imagine what he was doing at his best.
Your back arched up above the bed as you gripped his scarlet red bedsheets digging your head further into the mattress. Your hand went back to his head grabbing onto his hair tightly and you heard a muffled moan come from him making you look down and he looked up through his long white eyelashes practically begging for you to do it again.
You nearly forgot what he wanted because you were getting so lost in his haze of lilac hues staring up at you and clearly he didn’t like that. Izana gently nipped at your clit making your body jerk and your hands grab at his hair once again as you moaned “Izana!” Your eyes squeezed shut as you jerked your hips up into his mouth.
His lips latched onto your clit suckling at it as his hands trailed down from your thigh once again his fingertips tickling your bare skin as it made its way to your crotch and two of his fingers found their way back into your hole. Izana’s hard-on was rubbing against his bed making him groan into your cunt and your constantly pulling at his hair made him even harder.
If he stood up you could probably see how hard his cock was even through his loose shorts and he wanted you to. He wanted you to see how hard you were making him just from him eating you out alone “Uh, Uh, Uh!” You shouted your chest rising and falling with each whorish moan that fell from your tongue. Izana chuckled lightly smiling on your clitoris “Such a whore, doll. Ran make you moan like this?” Izana asked his words slightly muffled as his mouth was still on your pussy.
The vibration of his words sent chills up your spine and you could barely focus on what he said as you felt it more than you heard it. “Uh huh!” You yelled hoping that was the right response to his questions but you quickly learned that it wasn’t when his fingers stopped moving inside of you. Your eyes snapped open and you looked down at him.
His lilac gaze which was once full of a bit of demand and much more begging was now glaring at you angrily “‘M sorry! Didn’t hear you!” You whined wanting nothing but for him to keep going. Izana didn’t dare take his mouth away from your clit and just stared up at you through his light eyelashes that fluttered with every blink.
He sighed closing his eyes and looking calmer than he did before “Whore gets someone in between her legs and just forgets to listen.” Izana said as you whimpered at the feeling of his breath on your clit. He lifted his face liking his lips that were wet with your slick “I asked you if Ran ever made you moan like a whore.” He repeated rubbing his fingerprints gently over the ridges of your walls making sure to hit your sweet spot making you whine and you closed your eyes again.
Your hands retracted from his hair and covered your face as you tried to find the words that were constantly dissolving on your tongue like sugar because of the teasing. Ran has made you moan like that before, ran has made you cry on his dick to the point Rindou had to bang on the door telling you two to shut the fuck up just because of your sobbing but that wasn’t the answer Izana was looking for and if he didn’t get the answer he wanted, you weren’t getting what you wanted either.
“Nooo! You do it too good baby!” Izana grinned at your words and started thrusting his fingers in and out of you once again “Oh I’m baby now?” You nodded violently at his question and he chuckled again before lowering his face again and sealing his lips back onto your bundle of nerves lapping at your clit with his tongue.
Izana knew you didn’t call Ran baby. He never heard you say it but he didn’t know what went down behind the scenes but he could just tell. Izana didn’t give a shit what you called Ran whether you called him Daddy or something like that because he was perfectly fine being your baby ;)
Izana groaned into your cunt as he felt himself cumming against the fabric of his boxers and he knew that it seemed through and there was probably a wet spot on his shorts now.
The pace of his fingers hastened and he hit your sweet spot over and over trying to get you to cum as hard as you could “Mhm…’m cummin’ baby…” You moaned submissively running your fingers through Izana’s hair once again but you weren’t pulling on it. You were so close and had accepted your descent into submissiveness and being brainless.
Izana moved his tongue from your clit and right in front of your whole just ready for you to cum in his mouth “Go ahead, cum for me.” With that, you burst all over his fingers and tongue your eyes rolling to the back of your skull as your breath hitched.
Izana slowly pulled his fingers out of you and placed them in his mouth sucking all your cum off his digits maintaining eye contact with you. You breathed heavily still staring at him while he sat up on his knees and your eyes focused on the bulge in his shorts and a smile grew on your face.
Sitting up, you grabbed at the waistband of his gym shorts and peered at him “Wanna help you. It’s only right…you helped me.” You said shrugging your shoulders while giving him a sheepish smile but he saw the intent behind your eyes. The sluttiness of your words certainly brought that out too.
Izana didn’t say anything and just stared at you with a matching slutty smile on his face. I mean, you were right. It was only fair he get a little reward too and he wanted to be in your pussy and give you the best fuck of your life along with the head. He wanted the gold and he wanted to share it with you.
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©torasplanet .ᐟ reblogs and likes are very appreciated! pls do not repost!!
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yanderestarangel · 1 year
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HEADKANONS MK1 | TRIO LIN KUEI | "HOW WOULD THEY REACT TO YOU SAYING YOU HAVE DADDYKINK?"
A/N: I'm working on all the requests and doing kinktuber, lots of horny stuff ahead.
TW: Daddykink, vaginal sex, sex without a condom, daddykink, sub!reader, headcanons in general, afab reader, pet names.
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✧ TOMAS VRBADA ✧
He would be a little confused at first, like: "-Why do you want to call me Daddy? I'm not that old-". However, he would soon get used to it and would ask to be called that in everyday life, but with no one around, as our boy is very shy, and being called that certainly makes him hard instantly. He would love to fuck you hard while you moan for him to go but quickly rolling on his dick hard, he would soon grab your chin making you look into his eyes while he fucked you on your back.
Seeing your sweaty naked body in the lilac LED light of your shared bedroom, he would take his cock out of your dripping pussy and rub his cock against your clit, back and forth as he watched you writhe beneath him, and he wouldn't put it back in again, until you call him Daddy again and cum on his dick making your pussy turn red and completely full of his semen. -Fuck babyboy/babygirl, you're a mess, aren't you? Wanting Daddy's cock like that."
✧ BI HAN ✧
He would sit calmly and listen to everything you say without saying anything in return, just listen detail by detail. When you finished explaining he would say that he wasn't used to it but he wouldn't suppress his desires, and soon after he would call you "my good little boy/girl" while you were on his lap, making you blush and feel the wetness on your panties, Soon your boyfriend would notice and you both knew where this was going. But please don't call him Daddy while you're in public or with someone from the Liu Kuei clan, he would get angry because in his mind it's just your secret, if it happened he would have one of two reactions: or just get angry at you for having "dirtyed" his reputation as a feared grandmaster or would look at you at the same moment and punish you after arriving home - you would be unable to walk for a long time.
And there you were again on the sofa in the living room in front of the television that was showing some random Saturday night program, only the light from the electronics illuminated the room while you rode his dick ferociously, the big man was totally naked showing his entire body defined and now sweaty from sex, but you hadn't cum yet and he was going to fuck your pussy until he felt his hot cock. Bi Han looks once again at your bouncing breasts and you with your pussy moving back and forth on his thick cock and pulsing veins, calling "Daddy" with a tired voice full of desire, making the man moan hoarsely as he looked at you, he really loved it. have a good little slut like you. "Fuck little one, so hungry for cock, aren't you? cumming with that slutty pussy on Daddy's cock, holy shit, I love you so much, being a good boy/girl for me... let's go dirty now Daddy's cock with your whore pussy."
✧ KUAI LIANG ✧
He would get horny at the same moment, he would admit that he always wanted to be called that, that it was always something he wanted internally but he never knew how to say it, he would be the type to research beforehand, everything he needs or doesn't need to do and would ask everything what you discovered, whether you like it or not. Kuai Liang wouldn't mind being called that on the street or in the Liu Kuei clan, in fact he would even be proud, if you accidentally called him Daddy in front of one of the Liu Kuei or his brothers, he would just smile seeing you realize what did you just call him, giving a roguish smile as he hugged you and continued talking as if nothing had happened. Kuai would fuck you from the front, as he watched his cock slowly enter you, splitting you in half, your tight pussy felt the man's big cock hitting your womb slowly as he smiled sideways seeing you so submissive to him, his big hands passed over your thighs as he brought you even closer, sinking even deeper inside you.
The moans were loud enough to be heard outside the room, only the orange light of the sunset illuminated your bouncing breasts while Liang put them in your mouth, running his tongue and biting lightly on the nipples. He looked at your face while you repeated like a mantra "-Please fuck me more Daddy--Please I-" while the fire ninja put his two fingers in your mouth making you suck them, you weren't going to leave until he let you Your Daddy Kuai Liang's dick is all dirty with cum, after all, your pleasure is a priority for him. "-Yes, you are a such good boy/girl, taking my dick with that beautiful tight pussy, scream my name (Y/N), scream your Daddy's name."
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©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023
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choccy-milky · 1 month
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tag nine people you want to get to know better!
ty for the tag @myokk and @theladyofshalott1989 !!💖💖
LAST SONG? - i deadass don't know💀i don't really listen to music i just always have streams/youtube vids on (I KNOW IM SORRY DONT @ ME) ....does the baroque noble party ambience i was listening to while working on my oneshot count??? shoutout to that video btw
FAVORITE COLOR? - yellow!!💛⭐
CURRENTLY WATCHING? - i also don't really watch shows💀....do 6 hour video essays on youtube count? in which case i love action button if you haven't watched his stuff (his boku no natsuyasumi video and his tokimeki memorial video are amazing, and his pacman video), and also super eyepatch wolf & hbomberguy (especially hbomb's 'pathologic is genius' video). also i listen to a podcast called '372 pages we'll never get back' that i highly recommend
LAST MOVIE? - 💀💀💀this is just a meme at this point💀💀💀I DONT EVEN REMEMBER....me and my roommate love watching crappy adam sandler movies so probably one of those??? or my neighbor totoro since i forced my niece to watch it 😍
SWEET/SPICY/SAVORY? - SAVORY BABY I LOVE SALT IM A SALT FIEND!!!🧂🧂🧂i put my grubby little hands straight into the olive jar and FEAST...also when i was in uni i used to keep a little ziploc bag of salt on me for when i ate out LMFAOOO and i always steal the salt shaker and bring it to my room and my roommate is always like DO YOU HAVE THE SALT AGAIN???......what can i say i love salt........(tho i still love sweets and spicy foods as well. and im addicted to coke zero btw. my body is comprised of 50% salt and 50% coke zero)
RELATIONSHIP STATUS? - almost 2 years in my poly relationship with seb and clora😍😍
CURRENT OBSESSIONS? - girl do u even have to ask........
LAST THING YOU GOOGLED? - probably timezones for when im talking to mutuals LMAOO...i just like to know what hour it is there no pressure tags: @the-ozzie @sparxyv @ccelicaa @kaviary-blog @siboom777 @boxdstars @versailles-black @limonnitsa @dwightschrute11 @ethniee @celestinawarlock @moonstruckmoony @syaolaurant @bassicallymaestra @lilac-ravenclaw @vienguinn @noelles-legacy @4ever2000lover @lamieboo @magic-in-onyx (NO PRESSURE FR FR I HATE TAGGING PPL BC I FEEL LIKE IM BOTHERING YALL BUT I ALSO DONT WANT TO LEAVE PPL OUT AT THE SAME TIME...SO IF YOURE READING THIS U CAN CONSIDER YOURSELF TAGGED AS WELL🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️OR CONSIDER YOURSELF UN-TAGGED IF YOU DONT WANNA DO IT BAHAHA)
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vivwritesfics · 4 months
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Bleeding From The Storm
Chapter Five - Lilac
After the death of his son, the head of the Dupont family wants his daughter protected. He moved her to Monaco, the safe zone, and has her protected by Charles Leclerc. Max Verstappen was never supposed to meet her. He didn't even know who she was. But he knew she was beautiful, and he knew he wanted to know more, much to the horror of Charles Leclerc.
1.2K
Warnings: hints of smut, talks of death and murder
Series Masterlist
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The Dupont's weren't in the Netherlands for very long, just a week. But Max was determined to make every second with her count.
The broom closet was potentially the most unforgettable moment of Max's life. When their father's finished the meeting and Max was called back to Jos's side. It was incredibly difficult for him to concentrate on anything with a lacy, lilac underwear in his pocket.
It was easy to convince Jos to let him spend more time with her. All Max had to do was tell his father that his spending time with her and being nice to her was manipulation tactics, and Jos agreed. Max said things to his father, things that made him sick to his stomach. He knew Bunny wasn't stupid and pliable, but those words had Jos agreeing.
Max had never been the type to take a girl out for lunch or dinner. In his line of work it was easier to just sleep with them and move on. But not Bunny. He couldn't get her out of his head if he tried.
It didn't help that she looked so pretty sat across from him, sundress covered in pretty blue flowers, as she sipped her drink. She'd been saying something, but Max didn't know what, too busy admiring her to listen.
She looked at him like she was expecting an answer. "Sorry, Angel," he said, shaking himself out of it. "I was a little distracted."
He'd been staring at her the entire time, she knew. Her smile was wide, shy embarrassment written on her face as she looked down at her near empty drink. "I asked when you're coming back to Monaco," she said, using her straw to stir the drink.
He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth when he thought. "I don't know, Angel," he answered. Angel, never Bunny. She loved it, loved the way her insides squirmed every time the name left his lips.
"Are you gonna tell me when you're back?" She asked.
Max's heart jumped, ready to leap out of his chest. She wanted him around for more than just her short stay in the Netherlands. He knew he had to get back to Monaco as soon as possible.
"Angel, I promise," he began. As soon as I'm back in Monaco, I'll come see you," he said, hand reaching across the table. He didn't know what he expected, maybe for her to place her hand in his. Not for her to start running her nails across his skin in such a soothing manner.
A shiver ran down his spine. It was a mixture of soothing and ticklish. He sucked in a breath as he turned his hand over and she began tracing patterns along the back of it. "When you come to Monaco, we'll have to do something fun," she mused. "Plus, you'll have to return my underwear to me at some point."
His eyes damn near bulged out of their sockets at that. "Holy shit, Angel," he croaked out. He checked the time on his watch, only to distract himself. But then he found himself releasing a sigh and a small 'Fuck'.
Her nails stopped moving against his palm. "What is it?" She asked.
Max closed his hand around her fingers. "I've got to get you back," he mumbled and stood, pulling her up with him. "You're going back to Monaco tonight, right?" Max asked, but he already knew the answer.
"Yeah," Bunny mumbled, a pout on her pretty lips. "Are you sure we have to go now?" She asked and Max nodded his head.
Lacing her fingers through his own, she allowed herself to be pulled away from the Café max had taken for to for lunch. In that moment she wasn't Bunny, she decided. No, she was Angel.
They passed a secluded little alleyway. It wasn't pretty, not by any means, full of rubbish bins and overflowing with trash. The smell as they passed was atrocious.
But still, she gripped his hand and pulled him into the alleyway. "Angel," Max said, catching her before she could flatten herself and her pretty white and blue sundress against the dirty wall. "What are you doing?"
Her hands were around his neck as she looked up at him, giving what Max could only describe as puppy dog eyes. "I don't want to say goodbye yet," she whispered and pulled him closer.
Max let his eyes drift shut. If his Angel was kissing him, he wasn't going to complain. He just pulled her against him, keeping her flush against his body. Max knew he was giving everything over to her, but he didn't much mind.
She moved away from his lips, kissing across his jaw and down to his neck. "Fuck me," she said breathlessly. "Fuck me right here, against this wall."
But Max shook his head as he pressed his forehead to her own. "I'm not gonna fuck you in this dirty alleyway," he said and checked his watched. "Besides, I've got to get you back."
He grabbed her hand once again, but this time her pout was unmissable. It took everything Max had not to give into her. "I'm sorry, Angel," he said as they approached the Verstappen stronghold. "I promise to make it up to do in Monaco."
She let go of his hand, but for no other reason than to protect Max and herself. Them being together, it was impossible, forbidden. If Dupont found out what the daughter he'd been trying so hard to protect had been doing? It would have started an all out war.
Max was silent as he led her to his fathers office. He knocked and waited for confirmation before leading her inside. Max stood himself by the window while Angel, his Angel, went to stand by her father.
"Dupont," said Jos as he looked over at the signature on the paperwork. "I trust the shipment will arrive in the next two weeks."
"Verstappen, you have my word," said Dupont, his hand coming to rest on his daughters back. She stood straighter, but her gaze was still focused on the ground.
No more pleasantries were exchanged as Dupont and Angel were led from the office. Jos waited just long enough for them to be out of earshot before he opened his vile mouth.
"She was was delectable," he said in Dutch, and Max clenched his fists by his side. "Much more pleasant to look at than that old crone Dupont would insist on bringing everywhere he went."
If it had been anybody else talking about his Angel like that, Max would have lost it and pummelled his face beyond recognition. But he kept himself composed. "What about the business?"
"She is Dupont's only living heir, and yet she seems incapable," Jos said, ignoring Max's question. "As soon as she takes over from him, Dupont and everything he has will be ours. I've always wanted to own part of France," Jos said more to himself than anybody else.
Max's mouth went dry. He said her name. Not Angel, not Bunny, but her name. "What happens to her once you've... gotten what you want?"
Jos laughed a dry sort of laugh. "Max," he said with a shake of his head. "She'll be dead."
Permanent Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool
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cherrycola27 · 3 months
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A Favor Among Friends
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Series Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption, historical inaccuracies. Regency era men and ideals. Eventual Smut. RegencyEra!AU Banner Credit @thedroneranger
Masterlist Previous Part Next Part
...........................................
Chapter 2: The Offer
Your heart leaped in your chest when Bradley walked into the room. He brought your daisies, your favorite flower. He brought some lilacs for your mother and a bottle of wine from his travels for your father.
Sitting with him in the drawing room, talking felt so easy, so natural. You knew that he was the one for you. If you had it your way, by the end of the season, you'd be his Viscountess. You were giddy at the thought.
Bradley was just about to leave when your brother and his wife walked in. Eddie immediately asked to speak to Bradley in the study to catch up, you presumed. So, you excused yourself and took your sister-in-law by the hand and led her to the sewing room so you could show her the latest embroidery piece you'd been working on. Once you were married, you'd be able to join her sewing circle.
"Edmund! It's so good to see you!" Bradley exclaimed as he walked into the study. "What are you doing here, Bradshaw?" Your brother asked him harshly. Bradley looked at him puzzled.
"I'm calling on your sister. I intend to court her and take her as my wife." Bradley said as if it was the most obvious thing.
"No." Eddie deadpanned. "No? What do you mean, no?" Bradley asked him. "No, you cannot court, my sister, and you most certainly cannot take her as your wife. I will not allow it!" Edmund state.
"I don't believe that is your choice, Mister Beaumont. I believe the say is your father's, Lord Beaumont. Bradley narrowed his eyes.
"She is my sister! My baby sister! And I am your best friend. You have known her all of her life, and she was like a sister to you! Which is why I don't understand why you would want to court her. And as far as having her marry someone I know, I'd much rather her marry a stranger than my best friend whom I know all about. I know every triste and affair you have had Bradshaw. And my sister deserves an honorable man. Someone who will be faithful to her." Your brother exasperated.
"I have my father's ear. He will listen to me." Eddie bit back. "Why can I not court Ducky? She is a wonderful woman who is well accomplished in many talents and has been a friend to me my whole life! Surely you would rather her marry someone you know than someone you don't?" Bradley asked your brother.
"You think I am not honorable? I am a gentleman, and unlike many men of the Ton, I have no bastard children. And I would be faithful to Ducky." Bradley argues back.
"Bradley," your brother sighs, "you are a rake. You have been since we were six-and-ten, when your mother passed. I am not saying that you are a bad person. But I know that it is not a lifestyle you will be able to give up. I know I am being harsh, but you are not good enough for my sister, and you will only break her heart. So please. As your friend, I am asking you not to call on her again." Eddie finished.
Bradley clenched his jaw. "Fine." He walked to the door and paused. "I'll be taking my leave now. Bid your family a good day for me." He said before storming out.
..............
You were saddened that you didn't get to give Bradley a proper goodbye, but hopefully, you would see him again.
Rainy weather kept everyone inside for a week, but on a fine Wednesday morning, the sun broke through the clouds and brought new life back to the Ton.
That afternoon, your mother insisted that you go to Market Square and promenade with her and your brother and hopefully find a suitor.
You looked and saw that Eddie and your mother had stopped for a refreshment, so you quickly walked over and looped your arm with Bradley's.
You wore a golden yellow dress with fine beadwork, some white lace gloves, and your hair swept up away from your face. You were walking slightly ahead of your brother and mother when you spotted Lord Harrington coming down the path towards you. You curled your nose at the thought of promonading with him and quickly looked around for a way out. Just across the path, you spotted a familiar frame.
He was startled to see you. "Ducky? What are you doing?" He asked you.
"Lord Harrington was about to come ask me to promenade with him, and I would rather jump in the pond. Which is quite the risk because I cannot swim." You giggle.
Bradley laughed at you before escorting you to your family.
"Lady Beaumont, Mister Beaumont," Bradley nodded to them. "I was hoping I could escort Miss Beaumont through Market Square this afternoon. Would that be alright?" He asked.
"Of course!" Your mother cheered and smiled at him. Eddie smiled too, but you couldn't help but notice how pained he looked.
"Thank you." You whisper to Bradley. "Lord Harrington is determined to have me has his third wife and refuse to be it." You say. "You are not someone's third wife. You are someone's first and only wife." Bradley said to you. You smiled and turned away from him, fearing the blush in your cheeks would give away the crush you had on him.
"You know, we have to stop meeting like this, Lord Bradshaw." You chuckle as you curl your arm tighter around his.
"What ever do you mean, Ducky?" He asks you, still using that nickname he gave you all those years ago. You turn slightly to see your mother and brother walking a few feet behind you.
"I mean," you drop your voice to a whisper, "I swept you into to promenading with me through Market Square to avoid a suitor, just like you swept me onto the dance floor at the first ball of the season."
"I didn't hear any complaining from you when I did. However, if you'd like, I could always find someone else." Bradley chuckled and lifted his hand as if he was going to pull away. "No!" You said hastily, clapping your hand down over his. He let out a chuckle and shook his head. He enjoyed spending time with you, truly.
He turned back for a moment to see your brother shooting daggers at him. Bradley shook his head. You were the one who pursued him this time, but your brother didn't know that.
...........
Three months. It had been three months since the first ball of the season, and you had yet to secure a proposal from Bradley. He hadn't called on on you since the first ball, but he'd danced with you and each one since then. Always two dances. One quatrain, one waltz.
Each time was always magical, yet he'd neglected to call in you again. Unfortunately, Lord Harrington had called on you three other times. Each one worse than the prior visit.
However, as you sat at your vanity, you hoped that Bradley's mind had changed. He promised you that he would be at your home this week and your parents had told you to wear something "elegant" because they had news for you this afternoon.
You donned a beautiful emerald green dress with pearl adornments your mother loaned to you. As you descended the stairs, you heard voices and in the drawing room. They seemed to be in high spirits.
You took a deep breath and plastered a huge smile on your face as you walked in the room, only for it to drop at who you saw sitting with your parents.
"Lord Harrington." You grimaced. "Miss Beaumont, wonderful to see you again. Forgive me for not being able to stay longer, but I must leave." He said the moment you walked in.
"It's quite alright." You half smiled as he took his hat and kissed your hand to bid you goodbye.
"Darling, come sit." Your mother said. "We have some news, Y/N." Your father said as you sat down. "Lord Harrington has ask for your hand. He has made quite the offer."
"What? Have you accepted it? You told me I had until the end of the season, and we are only halfway through!" You shouted, smacking your hand on the table.
"Darling," your mother began, "we have not accepted his offer, but it is the only offer we have had all season. And, there is no telling how long it will be available. So, your father and I have decided that if you do not secure a match in two weeks, your betrothal to Lord Harrington will be official."
"No, no! He is old enough to be my father. How could you allow that. He has a lesser statis than we do!" You protested.
"He has a sizable estate and is willing to talk a dowry significantly smaller than your sister's was. The decision is final." Your father said before dismissing you from the room.
Tears stung your eyes as you stormed up the stairs. You couldn't believe this. Your parents were so desperate to get rid of you that they were willing to marry you off to someone twice your age that looked like he was one day away from going in the crypt.
You were so angry. You refused to be sold off like some prized heifer. You'd seen the girls who were placed into marriages like this by their parents. You had to find a way out.
You paced around your room, searching for something, anything to help. Your eyes landed on your globe.
"America, I could go to America." You whispered. There was just one problem. You needed money. Your family had money, but you'd never be able to take the amount you needed to start a new life in America without getting caught. You needed help.
"Marisol!" You called for your lady's maid. "Yes?" She asked you. "Have the stable prepare my horse. I'm going for a ride." You said. She nodded and took off.
An hour later, you had your cloak pulled up around your face as you road your mare through the pastures to your brother's estate. You were disheveled by the time you made it.
"I need your help." You demanded we the two of you were alone in his study. "With what, my dear sister?" He asked you.
"Mother and Father intend to marry me off to Lord Harrington if I do not find another suitor in two weeks. I cannot be his wife, Eddie. I will not." You say.
"So, I'm going to America. Aunt Johanna lives in North Carolina. I can reside with her until I find a more permanent place to live. But I need money to do that. Can you help me?" You beg your brother.
"Y/N, this is a crazy idea." He tells you. "Eddie, I do not care if you think I am making a rash decision. I will not be trapped in a loveless marriage to a man forty years my senior. Will you help me or not?!" You shout at him.
He sighs. "How much do you need?"
"Three thousand pounds. Enough to start over and support myself until I can find work." You say. "I know you must speak to your wife about this, but Eddie, just know, I will find a way there with or without your help."
"Give me a couple of days to get the funds together. And to arrange for me to travel with you. I will not let you make the journey alone. It's far too dangerous." Your brother tells you.
"Thank you, Edmund. Truly." You say as you hug him. "I must leave now, Mother and Father do not know I am here. I will have my things packed and find out how quickly we can leave." You say before bolting out of the room.
"You're not actually going to let her go to America, are you?" Your sister-in-law, Clarissa, spoke as she emerged from behind a bookcase.
"Of course not, I just needed to pacify her for a few days." Eddie spoke as he settled into a chair and rubbed his face. Clarissa settled onto his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"She said that she had two weeks to find another match. Do you think it's possible. Has anyone else tried to court her?" Clarissa asked him.
"Sir, Mister Edmund Beaumont is here to see you." A valet said to Bradley as he sat in his study looking over his ledgers. "Send him in." He half mumbled.
Your brother sighed before jolting up. "My god, Rissa, you're a genius!" I need the carriage at once. I have an idea!" Your brother exclaimed before running out of the room
................
"Bradley!" Eddie practically shouted as he strode in the room. "What, Eddie?" Bradley rolled his eyes, still annoyed at the conversation from a few months ago.
"I need you to do something for me as a favor among friends." Eddie said seriously. Bradley sat up straighter, noticing his friends tone, and his flushed his face was.
"What do you need, Eddie?" Bradley asked him. "I need you to marry my sister." Edmund stated.
The laugh that Bradley let out was boisterous and echoed off the walls of his study. He subsided after a few minutes and noticed that your brother was still standing there.
"Oh. You were serious, " Bradley said. "Yes, I am!" Eddie shouted. "Didn't you tell me a few months ago that I had to stop courting your sister?" Bradley said as he leaned back in his chair.
"Yes, but things have changed. My parents are going to betroth her to Lord Harrington in two weeks if she doesn't have another suitor by then, and Ducky said she refuses to marry him. So, she's planning on running away to America so she doesn't have to marry him. She came and asked me for money so she could! Do you realize how crazy that is and how dangerous it is?! Bradley! She said she would go with or without my help!" Edmund shouts.
"Eddie, if I go to your parents and ask for her hand, they are going to think I'm crazy. I called on her once!" Bradley shouted.
"Yes, but you promonaded with her at Market Square, and you've danced with her at every ball. It will not seem out of the realm of possibility." Eddie counters.
"Fine. But she already has an offer. Why would they accept mine?" Bradley asks him.
There is a long pause between the two men. Your brother can see that Bradley is weighing his options. After what seems like an eternity, he breaks his silence.
"You are a Viscount. You have a higher rank and a larger estate than Lord Harrington, and if you agree to take a smaller dowry, they will surely accept your offer. But, fear not. I will make up for the lack of dowry from my own purse. I will give you three times that of what my father does. Please, Bradley. We both know how head strong Ducky is. She will run away, and if she does, we will never see her again. I cannot lose my sister. I am sorry for the things I said before. I will never doubt your honor again if you do this for me." Edmund begs him.
"Thank you!" Eddie almost weeps as he moves to hug his friend. "You're welcome, Edmund. I know how much she means to you." Bradley says.
"Alright. I will marry her. I will go in the morning to your parents. But I do not wish for a dowry from you. Knowing that Ducky is safe is more than enough." Bradley finally says.
"She means the world to me." Edmund smiles. "I have one request, though. You must promise me that you will be faithful to her. No affairs, no mistresses." Edmund tells him. "I promise." Bradley assures your brother as he shakes his hand, and escorts him out.
Once he's gone, Bradley walks over to a painting on the wall and removes it, revealing a small safe hidden behind it.
Bradley pulled the key from his pocket and turned the lock. He opened the small door and pulled out a small blue box. Inside what his mother's betrothal ring. A stunning arrangement of sapphires and diamonds set in silver. He placed it on his desk, and tomorrow, he would place it on your hand when he asked you to be his Viscountess.
Bradley wished the situation was different. He'd wished that you were accepting his proposal out of love, not out of need. But he would be a good husband to you. He would take care of you.
..........
Convincing your parents to accept his offer was much easier than Bradley thought. He guessed that the idea of them not having to give a dowry out weighed any other reservations they had.
Your smile almost seemed genuine when he asked you for your hand. You played the part of a dutiful fiancée so well as you gushed over your ring, which was a perfect fit. It was almost as if you actually loved him, but Bradley knew that it wasn't true. And no matter how big the smile on his face was, his heart was broken.
Tagging those who might be interested: @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @desert-fern @roosterforme @daggerspare-standingby @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @na-ta-sh-aa @katieshook02 @beyondthesefourwalls @je-suis-prest-rachel @soulmates8 @horseshoegirl @djs8891 @roosters-girl @rosiahills22 @dempy @callsign-magnolia @gretagerwigsmuse @mshistorylover @seitmai @kmc1989 @bcarolinablr @waywardhunter95 @whatislovevavy @inkandarsenic @dingochef @princess76179 @schoollover @cheyrenee @angelbabyyy99 @bobfloydsbabe @sunlightmurdock @sebsxphia @atarmychick007 @queenlmno @sweetwhispersofchaos @mamaskillerqueen @withahappyrefrain @pwficrecs @blackwidownat2814 @carolineesnell @inky-sun @hrlzy @berrypockets
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theshinazugawaslut · 9 months
Note
Always here to help, Esha😘💕
Anyway, thoughts on Toxic Nemi? Not like super toxic but like…still toxic yk?😵‍💫
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Controlling, manipulative, and possessive; those are the best three words to use for toxic Sanemi. Whether it's set in the canon-verse or a modern AU (I've written this with more of a modern-AU in mind but I wouldn't mind making two seperate ones on request. However, I do also use references to the canon verse (training, missions, ect.).)
He loves you, he really does — he doesn't want to ever have to hurt you but he's doing it for your own good, don't you understand?
It's not that he doesn't trust you, it's that he doesn't trust others around you. How can you blame him? You have such beautiful, shimmering eyes and the prettiest smile, you could tempt anyone.
It starts off small: clingy little gestures like always keeping an arm around you, perhaps his rough hands dig just right into the plump flesh of your hips or perhaps his arm wraps around your sweet stomach, forearm resting against your belly whilst his fingers stroke some skin under your shirt as you go out shopping with him, excitedly showing him something you like. He listens to you but his lilac eyes burn into every passerby, his gaze almsot shadowing you from anyone's view with the promise of bloody murder in those eyes you find so very sweet.
He stands unnecessarily close to you, invading every inch of personal space he possibly can with that charming smile on his face, wants your eyes on just him and wants to make sure he can shield you from everyone else's filthy eyes.
If you're going out — mission, training, or in a modern AU where you're going shopping, visiting a friend — Sanemi is already slipping on his shoes and his haori (or jacket), looking at you with his usual serious face.
"I'm comin' with you, sweetheart," he says simply, blunt fingertips gentle brushing against your cheek, placing a chaste kiss on your jaw to make you listen. "Can't let you out alone, can I? What typa man would that make me, hmm?"
He swears it's for your safety and even when you protest you're meeting a friend at a cafe or simply going on a mission, he's tagging along, snarling when you try to deny him.
"Why do you not want me to come? Are you hiding something from me? Do I embarrass you?" he asks, making his eyes vulnerable and soft, making himself look sad and hurt, the way he knows that'll make you sag your shoulders and let him come along.
Hence, Sanemi follows you everywhere, even in the house. If you're sitting down — writing a letter to another Hashira or in a modern-day verse, texting someone on your phone — he's got an arm around your shoulder, lilac eyes watching your every move sharply.
"Baby, who's that?" he asks innocently, pointing to a contact as you had been mindlessly scrolling down your list of numbers to find a specific one.
"Oh, he's a friend from highschool," you answer and he scowls.
"Remove him," he orders and when you try to deny him, he nuzzles himself into your neck. "Baby, please, you care about me more, right? Not this rando, hmm?"
He grins when he watches you delete the contact.
He's also a bit shameless to get his point across to your friends and all the other people who ogle at your pretty person, kissing and suckling softly at your neck in public even as you squeal in protest.
He veils threats as well, ones he disguises as teasing or jokes but will wholeheartedly act upon should he deem he should.
"Tch, fuckin' bastard, I'll break his hands if he thinks of touching you."
"Do you really need to be visiting your family all the time? It'd be a shame if they got sick of you..."
"Baby doll... Don't keep talking to that idiot, I'll lock you in the house."
He doesn't like you going out to meet other people. Hell, he doesn't even want you to work (as a Hashira or as anything else in a modern-day verse).
He doesn't care if it's your family, friends, colleagues. He's all you should need. All you should want.
So he kisses you madly when you try to leave the house, wraps (traps) you up in muscled arms and kisses you breathless, senseless; littering mulberry, dark hickeys onto your jaw, neck, collar, undoing your clothes so he can worship your cunt.
"See, baby? 'm all ya need," he murmurs against your clit, licking at your folds, plunging his wet muscle into your hole as you cry out. "Let's stay home today, you can go 'nother day."
He marks you often as well — there's not a day where you aren't desperately trying to wear scarves to hide the mark of Sanemi's teeth against your neck or his love bites all across your body.
"You look so pretty, what are you doing?" he says, brows furrowing as he removes the scarves to gaze at you in the looking glass. He looks angry, scowl marring his rugged features. "You don't like them? You don't like what I do with you, to you?"
Your eyes widen, trying to explain yourself desperately before he gets upset, before he gets angry, and keeps you here till you apologise. "No, 'Nemi, of course I love it but it's a bit innappropriate-"
"-I love you and you're calling it indecent?" he hisses, hands coming on your shoulder to turn you around. "You truly think I'm some sorta monster than you gotta hide what I do to you? I thought you loved me."
"I do, I do, I do, I love you so much, 'Nemi, I won't wear the scarves, I promise," you murmur, grabbing his face to kiss him, and he smiles against your lips, victorious.
Sanemi controls your every aspect soon. He likes your fashion but he'd prefer if you'd only doll up just for him, and if you wish to go out, he's damn well at your side.
He glowers at you as you excitedly show him a dress you plan on wearing for the day and when your doe eyes widen in upset that he doesn't like it, he kisses your neck, up your jaw, then your temple, kissing you multiple times, his mouth like a drug to you.
"God, you look gorgeous," he murmurs, "but it's too much, hmm? Change into that lilac dress, yeah? You'll look so much sweeter, doll."
It started off like that but it's get to the point that he starts throwing tantrums, desperate and pathetic, when he sees you wear a dress that shows off the shoulders that he ends up kissing till they're bruised.
When you start crying, he cradles your face, kissing your face all over, wetly and open-mouthed. "Oh, baby, I only want what's best for you, don't you want to listen to me?" He cups the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair, mouth desperately kissing your cheek, your nose, your brow. "Oh, don't cry, baby... I'm only doing what's best for you, why won't you listen to me? You wouldn't be crying if you'd. Just. Listen." One hand moves to squeeze your waist, to stroke the tender skin of your lower stomach where your womb lay beneath. "You wanna look pretty? I'll make you look fuckin' pretty- Why're you so damn stubborn? I love you, I love you so goddamn much and this is how you repay me? I buy all the pretty shit you wear, I buy it all for you so you fuckin' owe it to me to listen to me. Aye? Got it?"
When you nod, tears being stroked gently off your face, Sanemi smiles as though he hadn't even yelled at you or kissed you senseless. "Atta girl, my good girl."
But other times, it's not about what you wear but more of who you talk to, he scowls when he catches you talking to someone, and heaven forbid you manage to hang out/train with someone else without him finding out.
He keeps a track of you, always, whether you like it or not. If it's keeping a tracker on you or perhaps stalking you whenever you leave.
He'll go beserk, yelling and huffing, grabbing at your elbows, trying to drag you back home where you belong, and if that doesn't work, he'll cry and beg for you to never leave him, sobbing against your thighs that he wants you stay.
"Why did you lie to me?" he cries. "I thought- I thought you trusted me, don't you love me? I trust you with all my heart, I do everything for you, why can't you love me back the same?!"
And he lets that guilt fester at your heart, makes sure you never even try to utter the word 'break up' or 'leave' him (and if you ever even tried, he'd cover that pretty mouth of yours that he loves so much with his large, broad hand, his eyes bloodshot and crazed, kissing your forehead softly as his hand tightens your delicate face and squeezes till it feels your cheekbones will snap and teeth will shatter. "Don't even dare," he whispers against your ear, kissing your earring, "I'll fucking strangle you if I have to, if it means you'll stay, or maybe I should strangle that darling sister you care so much for...").
He proposes to you quite quickly as well — you're his one and only, his piece of perfection, the only one that matters. He plans the wedding precisely how you would want it and it makes you forget all the bad aspects as he dotes on you for the rest of your life, very rarely having to remind you of your place as you become a perfect housewife for him.
You love him just as much now, whining his name when he has to leave for awhile, but he always kisses and bites you, murmurs how much he loves you (and you know he means it).
He makes sure to bounce you on his cock almost every night, loving how you sob his name is ecstacy, and he makes sure to stuff you full until your belly swells nice and round with his children.
God, he's always wanted a big family, he's always wanted to make sure you never had a single fucking choice other than him.
And he loves it, how you give him child after child, how utterly divine you look as you giggle and chatter, carrying his baby as he kisses your stomach over and over whilst his other children play at your feet.
You really couldn't resist him, could you?
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cambion-companion · 2 years
Note
okay so, i was going through my old writings (like at least 10 years old) and i saw a scene i wrote down for my novel - anyways i thought it would be perfect for aemond and his wife where they're just laying down and he's like fully on top of her, telling her shit and she's under him, trying to breathe because he's so fucking heavy and is crushing her
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"Aemond, please put the cutlery down before you hurt anyone."
Aegon sniggered into his cup as you chided your husband, hands atop your hips.
"And you." You wheeled on the eldest prince, snatching the pitcher of wine away from his reaching hand. "Don't tell me you got my husband drunk again."
"Quite a lapse in judgement." Aegon leaned back in his chair, watching his brother with a grin. "Don't know what came over me."
"He wouldn't see it coming." Aemond demonstrated yet again the upward swipe with his butterknife.
"Isn't that rather the point, brother?" Aegon quipped over the rim of his goblet. You shot him a glare.
"I don't think you'll be doing any lasting damage with a breadknife, my love." You approached him, holding out your palm for it.
Aemond regarded you blurrily for a second, glancing down at the small weapon in his hand. "Wise as ever." He muttered. "Perhaps a spoon, then."
He dropped the knife into your waiting hand, you returned it to the table, taking hold of your husband's wrist instead and tugging lightly. You underestimated how inebriated Aemond was, he stumbled forward into you, knocking you to the ground, the air leaving your lungs in a huff. You struggled to catch your breath, the heavy weight of Aemond on top of you crushing your lungs.
Aegon was laughing uproariously, so much so you could barely hear Aemond speak. "Not how I intended this evening to go, though I'm not complaining at our current predicament."
You spat out a mouthful of his hair, wriggling a little beneath him. "I am! Aemond you're smushing me."
"You're very comfortable."
"I can't breathe."
"I might take a nap right here." He laid his silver head upon your bosom.
"Aegon, help!" You squeaked, peering up at where he sat looking down at you two.
"And rob my brother of a cozy place to sleep?" Aegon looked aghast. "Never."
"I hate you."
"Cheers." He toasted you before drinking another gulp of wine.
"Aemond." You said softly, running your fingers through his argent hair until he raised his head to look at you. "My legs are going numb."
"Why can't we remain in bed for a while longer?" He sounded agitated now, his lilac eye narrowing as he tried to focus on your face.
"We're not in bed, Aemond." You tried to reason with him, but he was hardly listening. "We're on the floor of the dining hall."
"My love, we can try again perhaps later." Your brow furrowed as he continued his slurred speech. "These things take time."
"What?"
"Creating a child." He shifted to pat a hand low on your abdomen, looking at your cleavage fondly. "It can't be rushed."
"I-do shut up Aegon." You hissed, closing your eyes, praying to the Mother for patience. "Perhaps you would like to shift off of me if we aren't...making a baby right now."
Aegon opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it and took another gulp of his drink.
"You're so warm." Aemond practically cooed, nuzzling his nose against you. "You smell of wine and roses." He sighed deeply, his breathing steadying as he started to drift off again.
"Aegon if you don't get him off me, I'm telling your mother about what you did last night." Now you couldn't feel your arms or your legs.
"Oh, you're playing dirty now." Aegon grunted, looking displeased as he finally rose from his seat. Able to hold his liqueur better than Aemond, he was barely tipsy, hoisting his brother off of you with only a little struggle.
Aemond was awake at once, and as alert as he could be given the circumstance. "Unhand me at once!" He struggled, proving to be superior in strength to Aegon.
In a flurry of movement and curses, Aegon and Aemond were now tangled on the ground together. Though instead of talk of making a family together, they were shouting in High Valyrian what you could only guess to be various obscenities.
You slowly rose to your feet, leaning on the back of a chair as the blood returned to your limbs. The door opened and you saw Daeron appear, his face shocked as he took in the scene of his brothers wrestling drunkenly on the ground.
"Uh." He cleared his throat loud enough to get their attention. "Mother wishes to see all of us in the throne room."
Aemond seemed to have sobered up at that, his hair was a mess, he disentangled himself from Aegon doing his best to straighten his rumpled clothing. Aegon remained sitting on the ground, his chest heaving from the exertion as he looked incredulously at Daeron. "Right now?" He asked.
Daeron nodded. "Unfortunately for you, yes."
Aegon groaned.
You crossed to Aemond, combing through his tangled hair with your fingers, adjusting his eyepatch that had slipped down his angular face.
"We will be there momentarily." You told Daeron, returning his smile.
He gave you a little bow, his smile dropping as he shot Aegon a withering look before departing.
"Can you walk?" You asked Aemond who nodded. "Do you know who I am?"
"Yes of course I know who you are." He sounded more than a little annoyed as he held a hand down to Aegon, helping him up. "I already have a headache. The next time you try to get me to sample the vintage red wine, remind me to say no."
"You have my word." Aegon rolled his eyes, smacking Aemond on the shoulder a little harder than necessary.
Aemond pushed him in return, sending Aegon stumbling back.
"Boys!" You clapped your hands, pleased when both princes froze to look at you. "Enough. Your mother wishes to see us."
Aemond gave you a little nod, offering you his arm. "Allow me to escort you, my lady."
"Oh please. In your current state it'll be me escorting you." You couldn't help but giggle a little, he was already trying to steer you in the wrong direction as you exited the dining hall.
Aemond leaned his head down to whisper in your ear. "Do you think mother will be able to tell?"
"That you're drunk?" You have him an appraising look, trying to give him a convincing smile. "Of course not! You're the picture of sobriety!"
"I'm going to murder Aegon myself." He muttered, clearly not drunk enough to buy into your white lie.
"I heard that." Came Aegon's voice right behind the two of you. He sounded amused, and the three of you laughed together as you wound your way down the hallways towards the throne room.
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talesofesther · 2 years
Text
birthday girl
Wednesday Addams x Reader
This story belongs to the Sweet Calamity universe
Summary: Wednesday tries to make something special for your birthday.
A/N: A sweet little thing for my favorite universe. And also as a birthday gift for my dear friend @eviekensington. <3
Masterlist 
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It was a day like any other; the sun was peeking through the clouds, your colleagues had sour faces in the morning, your girlfriend's hand was warm in yours.
Just a normal Thursday.
Or at least you hoped it would be.
You were walking out of your last class with Wednesday, talking with her about the upcoming test. Well, you were talking, she was listening and humming along.
The day went by as normal, the sun just a few hours short of setting, and no one had acknowledged it was your birthday yet.
Just how you liked it.
Honestly, it's not that you don't like when people remember your birthday, you do — it shows they care. Yet the sometimes overwhelming attention that comes with it is not exactly something you love.
One person wishes you a happy birthday and suddenly there are people you don't even know pulling you into a hug to do the same. It feels like the spotlight is on you for the whole day. That, you don't like.
To avoid things like that, you preferred to keep it a secret. Though this year there's something different; you had your soulmate with you. A soulmate who's very good at uncovering secrets.
"I happened to forget my hunting knife at the ballroom," Wednesday suddenly interrupted your rambling, "would you accompany me to get it?"
"Uh-" you didn't know what she was doing with a hunting knife at the school's ballroom in the first place, but there was no reason for saying no to spending more time alone with her, "yeah, of course."
Wednesday gave you a barely there smile and squeezed your hand before pulling you along.
Maybe you should have expected it, what with the way she was being all secretive today, dodging your attempts at making plans for later and sending texts to someone whilst in class — you barely saw Wednesday touch her cellphone on a normal day; that should've been reason enough for you to guess something was off.
You pushed open the ballroom doors and were immediately greeted with chantings of happy birthday. Enid, Ajax, Bianca, Yoko, Divina, Xavier, Eugene, and many others of your friends occupied a small portion of the big ballroom; there was a table with a cake and drinks on top of it and a haphazard cut-out birthday sign taped to the wall along with a few balloons.
Placing a hand over your racing heart, you looked at Wednesday beside you, she had a glint of pride in her eyes.
"You weren't assuming I was unaware, right?" She smirked, then motioned for you to walk further into the ballroom, "you can thank Enid for the party."
You didn't have much time to answer before Enid was pulling you into a bone-crushing hug; "happy birthday, Y/n." She pulled back, half-heartedly glaring at you, "I can't believe you weren't going to tell me it's your birthday."
"Well, I-" you started with a timid chuckle.
"No matter," the werewolf kept going, a bright smile on her lips that you couldn't help but copy, it did feel nice to have people who cared. "Wednesday found out just in time."
Enid was also the first to give you a present after all of your friends hugged you; it was a large pink box that had a knitted sweater inside it, the fabric unbelievably soft, in shades of purple and lilac — it was bound to become your favorite.
For what felt like hours you ate, drank, received gifts, and celebrated with your friends. It was nice — until the attention became overwhelming, until you were craving some fresh air.
Luckily, you had someone who apparently could read you like an open book.
You were putting away your empty cup when you felt nimble fingers touching your elbow. Her presence so familiar to you that you didn't even need to turn to see who it was — your soul knew the shape of hers already — but you did anyway, pursing your lips in a smile.
"Are you not enjoying your festivities, mi flor?" Wednesday spoke with a softness reserved for you only.
"I am, really I am," you reassured a little too urgently, biting your lip when all you got from her in response was a raised eyebrow telling you to be honest. "It's just- I don't like much attention on me as is, and here, I feel like all eyes are on me."
Wednesday hummed, her brows scrunched in thought, "Enid said to me that's what you'd like when I told her I wanted to do something for today. I apologize."
You could swoon. You wanted to kiss away the little pout on Wednesday's lips — so you did, you cupped her face with one hand and gave a peck to her lips; "don't apologize, I loved it. Just the fact that you thought of doing something already means everything to me."
The dimmed lights of the ballroom almost hid the blush on her pale cheeks. Almost. Her fingers trailed down your arm, creating goosebumps on your skin until her hand found yours, "come with me."
"What about them?" You glanced at your friends. They were laughing with each other and stuffing themselves with cake.
"They won't mind."
With her hand in yours, Wednesday took you all the way to the lake just outside the school walls, its water was glistening with the fading sunlight and the few leaves on the trees were rustling with the cold wind. It was gorgeous, straight out of a painting.
She sat down with you on the wooden deck, both your feet just short of touching the water.
"This better?" Wednesday asked, her eyes expectant on you.
"Yeah," you intertwined your fingers with hers and brought her hand up to kiss her knuckles, "it's the best."
Wednesday knew you loved all things nature, she reprimanded herself for this not being her first option. Though you genuinely looked happy, with a soft smile permanent on your lips and the golden sunset reflecting in your eyes.
You watched in blissful silence as the sun slowly disappeared behind the mountains, your thumb gently tracing the skin on your girlfriend's hand.
"Thank you, this really is the best birthday," you said quietly so as to not disturb the atmosphere around you.
You felt Wednesday's eyes on you, "because you're here," you told her. Despite being true, your own words made you smirk as you waited for the reaction you knew they'd cause.
"That's nauseating," Wednesday grumbled, tugging at your hand so it would rest on her lap.
"You love it," you bumped her shoulder with yours, stretching your feet to kick the water underneath you.
Wednesday held back a smile. She did love it.
⋆* ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I'd appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3
Wednesday’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @heelaechan @imagine-reblog @sakurarukas @bluetreecloud20 @the-night-owl-blr @imlike-so-gaydude @user284747 @dreifhraniquo29 @emeraldevan @simp4nat @boobabietch @impossibleliv1031 @deadpool-in-a-snood @rainbow-love4ever @maria-403 @pompompuri @halleest @wandaromanova @marveloussimp @rainbow-hedgehog @left-and-right-up-and-down @get-the-fuck-outta-here @awolfcsworld @elduster @alexkolax @georgi-salva @imdumbhi @youralphawolf72 @reginassweetheart @justyourwritter69 @yangsroboarmm @8e-h-e8 @irish-piece-of-trash @femalehomosexual666 @wol-fica @wednesdays-woes @vorsdany
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fandoms--fluff · 8 months
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You'll See When We Get There
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Older Mikaelson sister reader x Hope Mikaelson
Summary: You take your little sister to the American Girl store in Houston.
Warnings: None
A/n: I've loved American Girl since I was a child and I really wanted to write this.
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Ever since you introduced Hope to American Girl dolls, she's loved them. You got her one for Christmas four years ago, one of the truly me ones that looks like her. And the nine-year-old is attached to it, to say the least. She takes the doll basically everywhere and plays with her with all the doll things she's gotten over the years. She also convinces you to play with her, and you love it and how her face lights up with excitement every time you agree.
She's also gotten Uncle Kol and Aunt Rebekah to play with her sometimes. And once actually got Uncle Elijah to play with her as well after a lot of begging him and you helping her until he complied.
You got her the one for Christmas because of how she loves your own Felicity doll that you got in the 90s when she came out. That's what you play with, her and your dolls together.
Hayley always smiles as she watches you and Hope play, knowing you don't have to, but you do.
It's got you thinking about how, even though she loves the dolls, she's never been to an American Girl store before. So that's how you came up with your plan to surprise your little sister.
You talked to Hayley and your dad about it, taking Hope on a road trip to Houston, Texas, and surprising her with going to the AG store. It's the closest store to you guys, so you wanted it to be a big surprise and everything. They agreed quickly, knowing Hope had been talking about wanting to go to the store for a long time.
"Hey, Hope" You smile, walking into her bedroom after setting down a bag in the doorway. She's sitting on the floor, her doll sitting in a chair, and doll food is set up on the purple table. A miniature fork in her hand, pretending to feed her.
"Hi!" She grins. You walk over and crouch down next to her. "I have a surprise for you," You tell her. "But, first you need to pack a bag."
"Why?" She asks, clearly excited about the surprise.
"We're going on a road trip, just you and me. And when we get there, you'll see the surprise" You run your hand through her hair before standing up. She follows and starts packing a bag with you.
Once you guys are finished, you zip up the yellow bag and swing it over your shoulder, picking up your own bag as well. She looks back across the room.
"Can I bring my doll?" She asks, not wanting to leave her here all alone. She knows that Mommy and Daddy will be here, and some of her aunts and uncles, but still.
"Of course you can" You nod over for her to grab her. The doll is wearing a lilac dress, with matching shoes and bandana. She lifts the doll into her arms and follows you down the stairs, into the living room.
"You guys are heading out?" Hayley asks. "Yeah, I want us to get there before dark" You answer her.
"Do you know where we're going, Mommy?" Hope looks up at Hayley.
"Sorry, baby, I can't say, it's a surprise" She kisses the nine-year-old's forehead. "Okay," She sighs dramatically, making you chuckle.
"Bye Mommy, bye Daddy" She hugs them before you guys walk out to your car. You put your guys' two bags in the trunk. There's also another bag with snacks and juice boxes you already put in the front seat beforehand.
She climbs into her booster seat and buckles herself up as you start the car.
During the almost six-hour drive to the hotel, you and Hope munched on snacks and listened to Disney music.
Once you got there, it was almost seven and you were both tired and hungry. You parked the car in the hotel parking lot.
"Okay, we're going to check in, and put our bags in the room, then we can go get dinner" You turn to look at Hope.
"Okay. Can we get pizza?" She asks. "You read my mind" you chuckle, making her smile brighten.
You guys walk down the street to a pizza factory after dropping the bags and Hope's doll in the room. She didn't want to get it dirty, so it was easy to persuade her to not bring it for once. But you didn't feel as bad since you know she'll be really happy when tomorrow comes.
"Pepperoni?" You ask her as you guys stand in line. "Mhm!" She nods in agreement. When you guys get to the front, you order a small pepperoni pizza. You take the number card for the table and sit at a booth. Your sister sitting across from you.
"Where are we?" She asks, remembering you never told her exactly where you guys are.
"We're in Texas right now, more specifically, Houston" You answer her.
"Why?" She tilts her head. "It's part of the surprise. You'll see tomorrow." You ruffle her hair.
"Where are we goin?" Hope asks. She's kneeling on the made bed facing where you're putting on your leather jacket. "Well, you'll just have to see for yourself. Let's go, shall we?"
Hope lifts her arms up for you. You walk over, lifting her up into your arms. She wraps her legs around your waist and her arms around your neck. You place a kiss on her forehead before setting her back down on the ground.
"Why don't you grab your doll and then we can go," you tell her. "Okay!" Hope exclaims, excited about getting to bring her doll along. Her feet patter against the carpeted floor and grabbed her doll from the chair that she turned into the doll's bed last night.
She comes back over to you, taking hold of your outstretched hand. You make sure the hotel door is locked before walking down to the parking lot.
You guys had the hotel breakfast earlier in the morning, pancakes, fruit, and hashbrowns.
All throughout the drive, you take notice of the excitement on Hope's face as she clutches her doll close as she looks out the window.
"Okay, we're here" You park the car, getting out of the car. Hope follows you, jumping out of her booster seat, doll clutched in her arms.
Hope holds your left hand as you lead her through the mall. She pauses, her face brightening the moment she sees it. The American Girl store. You guys are standing four feet away from the entrance, beside a display of the 90's twins.
"Well, what are you waiting for, let's head on in" You tell her ruffling her hair with your other hand.
Not wasting another second, she pulls you into the store quickly, heading right over to the display case of all the historical dolls.
As she's looking at all of them, she tilts her head and looks up at you. "Why is Felicity not here?" She points up to all the dolls. "Oh, well they retired her a while ago. Meaning they no longer sell her anymore" You explain. "Oh, that's sad," Hope says.
"Yeah, it is a bit" You squeeze her hand before she ultimately gets distracted by everything again.
Let's just say you spent a lot of money, definitely spoiling your baby sister, but who can blame you? In your defense, you've been planning this and it's not like you were setting a budget anyways. You can never tell if that's a good or bad thing.
You and Hope walk into the house, a bunch of American Girl bags full. You guys had just gotten back from another five hours on the road.
Hayley and Klaus walk into the room, their eyes immediately going to the excessive amount of red shopping bags. "Well, I see you guys had fun," Hayley says.
Hope runs over to her, "Mommy!" Hayley holds her daughter close before pulling away. "Y/n/n took us to the American Girl store and we had so much fun and there were so much things" Hope explained, energy pumping through her veins after sleeping for the last s and a half hours in the car.
As Hope continues to animatedly tell Hayley about the trip, Klaus walks over to you, hugging you.
"Do I even want to know how much money you spent?" He asks. "I wouldn't recommend it," You tell him, faux wincing.
"I have to say, you learnt well from Rebekah" Klaus shakes his head chuckling. "Well, she is the best on the subject of shopping" You lean into your father. He wraps his arm around you as you guys watch Hope open the new doll, Addy, and take her out of the box.
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iwaasfairy · 10 months
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congrats on 15k fairy!!! everytime you say you've reached a milestone I've always wondered how you didn't have more followers by now and I'm still wondering hehe.
also if possible for the drabble event,, maybe the reo mikage sugar daddy one? i think I had sent in an ask before a year back and i remember discussing it w u but I don't exactly remember what it was 😭😭
Thank yoUUU so much sweetheart!! And I vaguely remember yes!! Can’t believe it’s already been a year omg pAnfjfjfjfj ♡ I made it a little cesty bc reo is just my fav when he’s niichan flavoured
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tw sugar daddy, incest, degradation and praise
He’s above you, seated on the couch as you’re on the floor, knees cold and bruised but grateful nevertheless. Reo nii always is elevated above you, it feels like, and not just because of his taller stature. It’s just the natural inclination of being with a man who can practically buy your life and not blink twice. You’d say you could too, but mom and dad’s money is his money, and the company’s his too. “Open up,” he whispers, brushing long fingers over your lips, and you let him invade it until he’s pressing onto your squirming tongue.
The cold metal of his other rings brush your cheek when he pushes in further, almost gagging you, before his free hand pats his thighs and he smears the rest of your spit onto your lips and cheek. Gross. He makes you feel like you’re nothing with a single glance of those smart, lilac irises, and doesn’t even have to try. “Come up, c’mon.” He pats again, more demanding this time. “You look pretty dumb sitting there, staring up at me, y’know.” You push up from the floor without another call. Even lounged over his nice couch he looks royal, hair falling in messy tresses brushed back from his face.
You don’t get the chance to sit before he’s pulling you down against him and onto his lap, hard cock pressing against his boxers through sweatpants. As you sit, the press of him against you only makes it harder to focus— and he smiles like he knows it. Because when you roll your hips against him, he instead starts toying with the edge of your satiny suggestion of a dress. “This is one I bought you, hm? Looks nice on you.”
“Thank you, nii nii. I like it too,” you whisper back, and also try to lift yourself into a better position to grind your barely covered pussy against him, dropping your head onto his shoulder. Reo only hums, before he pushes it up and grabs two handfuls of ass to pull you even closer, snickering when you squeak at the push against your over-stimulated clit.
“Want me to buy you another one? ‘cus I can. You just gotta ask your big brother.”
“Nuh uh,” you bury yourself into his neck to start sucking onto the soft skin, knowing he’ll complain - but loving it anyway, “jus- want you to- touch me.” Reo loves spoiling you, it’s true. But more than that, sometimes it feels like he’s trying to buy your love, and you don’t need that. You don’t need anything but him, to be held and loved and cherished by him. He slips his hands down your body comfortably, and finally gives in enough to start rubbing your pussy through your panties— rubbing your slick around through the fabric.
It’s embarrassing that you have to moan into his skin, listening to the way his heart beats, and beg before he slips the expensive lace panties aside to slide two fingers a few inches in. You squirm and whimper at the feeling of him caressing deep inside you, before he groans and rocks his hips into you too. “Tell me you like me.” He rasps, before leaning in to press his lips to yours, mouth to mouth and pulling you in by your waist. “Tell me big brother’s your favorite.” Of course he is. You don’t need to be bought anything for that to be true— but Reo nii doesn’t see it that way.
“Nii nii,” you whine back, and also let him fuck his fingers deeper in and out of you, stretching you out and smearing the wetness on the inside of your thighs before he lays you down. “Big brother’s my favorite~”
“I’ve got you bought, right? Can’t want anyone else- cus they’ll never spoil you like me.” He pushes your thighs towards your body to take your panties off, before pushing his hand into his sweats and taking out his cock to stroke it up and down, squeezing at the base. “You won’t leave me because I won’t let you. Understand? I own you.” He lines up, then pushes in without any other warning and hovers his mouth over yours. Until you have to silence your own moaning into his mouth, and nod in agreement.
“I’m niichan’s property. I promise.”
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madwomansapologist · 3 months
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when the lights go out | usopp x strawhat!reader
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with loguetown ahead of the crew, usopp finds comfort on your shared moments. talking, working or in complete silence: he loves them all.
cw: just fluff! friendship, love and fabrication of guns. usopp being his usual insecure being.
an: this is slightly east blue policule. i just love those guys so much everything i write for them becomes a bit romantic. pre-loguetown. reader described to have lilac hair and golden eyes. do y'll wanna see the art i have for this strawhat?
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"And just like that eight thousand warriors submit to my inexplicable talent", Usopp chanted, glaring at his reflected image on the mirror. "I know, I know, it was so nice of me to allow them to fight for me."
Usopp brushed his sniper goggles, cleaning what wasn't even dirt. He flexed a few times, imagining a few muscles on his slim body. Was that brown overall the best one he had?
He wanted to look like himself. Like his best self. Someone that could be a warrior of the sea. That could led eight thousand warriors. Usopp hoped to be someone that would impress others.
Usopp doesn't lie: he dreams. Except from all times when he does lie, of course.
During all his life, the only thing Usopp really wanted was to entertain others with his stories. Once the people in Syrup Village grew tired of them, Usopp had only a few friends left interested on the tales he had to tell. Not that he would ever stop being himself just because a dozen villagers chased him down the island.
But this crew is something else. How can everyone be so interesting? Not only that, but how can they all be so interested on one another? It still surprises Usopp. How everyone wants to hear what the other has to say, to teach. Even more what the other wants to hide.
It could be because, well, it's food, but he knows when Luffy asks Sanji about the All Blue is because he wants to hear the cook's voice. Sanji says he only competes with Zoro to proof that he's better than the swordsman, but that's not the truth. Not entirely, at least.
He once watched as Nami babbled on and on about cartography. Zoro stood there, quiet as a rock until the moment he complained, but nothing will change the fact he was wide awake the whole time. And there are all the late nights you spend studying architectural plants or ergonomic treaties, only awake because Nami makes sure to keep your cup warm.
And there is the way you ask Usopp about his trinckets.
You listen. An inventor, able to create motors and pulleys with the most worthless piece of metal, listen to him. At first Usopp thought you would judge him, who knows how many times your brain saved them all, but he saw only interest in your eyes. About what his trinckets could do, what inspires him, how he learn how aim.
Soon Usopp found notes with your calligraphy near his drafts. He found himself asking for your help to deal with metal. And yesterday Usopp couldn't believe his ears when you asked him if you both could work together. Great inventors must help one another, you said as if it meant nothing.
You thought he was great.
And Usopp wants be great. To feel great. To look great. Not only you're interest on what Usopp has to say, but you also think about him the same way he thinks about you. How could Usopp not overthink about every little thing on him?
Admiring his overall, now blue out of his indecisive nature, Usopp noticed how long it took him to get ready. It's already way pass the time you told him to meet you!
Running through Going Merry, Usopp felt his heartbeat increasing. You had understand, he really couldn't help but being late! Well, he could, but you don't need to know that part of the story.
"Zoro would be dead if it wasn't for me", Usopp explained himself, opening the door of your room in his usual exasperated way. Hands on his hair to make sure he looked great, Usopp put on a charming smile. "That man can't be trusted to walk alone..."
As the sunlight invaded your room from the open door, Usopp saw your working table filled with notes and gadgets covering the wood. And besided your organized mess, was your head. Bend over the chair in a position that couldn't be comfortable, lilac hair glued to your forehead, you were deep asleep.
Usopp sighed. There goes his chance of spending more time with you. All because he took too long to get ready. "No lie can save me from this one", Usopp whispered to himself.
He closed the door for the sunlight not to wake you up. Trying to be as careful as someone like him could, Usopp took the gadgets from the table. He put them inside your wardrobe, trying to respect the weird way you placed them.
If he was strong like Zoro or Sanji, he would've carried you to your bed. Since he isn't, he took the blanket for it and silently covered you. It wasn't cold, but climate was weird lately. Better to prevent than to remend.
Usopp would rather work with you, tell you all his stories, but still Usopp found himself smiling. So cute. His fingers played with your hair, the sweet perfume of tangerine reaching his long nose as he tucked it behind your ears.
"Usopp", you murmured, voice leaking tiredness. Your golden eyes met his, and Usopp jerked away from you. Slowly, you moved your body to a more natural position. "How long have I been sleeping?"
"D-Don't worry", Usopp could feel his cheeks burning. Did you noticed he was playing with your hair? "Are you feeling alright, o esteemed inventor?"
Your whole body was sore, but still your smile was natural. Usopp always comes up with the best nicknames. Cute. "No, I'm fine. Just still not used to sleep on a ship. You wanna start? I was working on a prototype, a machine to operate the helm and spare Sanji's back."
Usopp sat on the chair beside you, his arm resting on the back of yours. "That reminds me of one of my many adventures!"
You looked at him. Between those yellow eyes, all he saw was interest. Like always. "Tell me all about it."
And of couse Usopp did. He made sure to create an amazing story, with a great hero and a great danger. As his words reached your ears, more and more relaxed you felt. When your eyes first started to wander, Usopp knew his plan worked perfectly.
Slowly, you allowed sleep to envelop you once again. Your body was warm, his words were soothing, and for the first time in a while the movement of the waves felt welcoming.
Usopp gagged when your head fell on his shoulder, but quickly went back to the history. His body was burning again. After a while, he stopped talking. The only thing he could hear was your breathing.
For next hour, Usopp didn't move from his place besides you. His shoulder throbbed, Sanji almost fought him for the right of holding you, and his stomach ached for completion.
It was a perfect day.
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if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡
general taglist: @lovelyy-moonlight
@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.
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