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#the way she likes meat over anything else??
harleehazbinfics · 3 days
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Cannibal Overlord!Reader [Cannibal Chef!Reader Spin-off!]
Cannibal chef! reader m.list | Author profile
a/n: I've seen a few fics about reader owning Alastor's soul, so I'm gonna put my own spin on it in Cannibal Chef. >:]
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"Madam, the table is ready."
"Oh, thank you Alastor!" You groan, leaning against your chair clutching your aching head.
"These demons can't do anything right!" you roared slamming your fist down on the table sending papers flying, which Alastor calmly collected and places back on the table.
He smiles and waits for you to stand. On your own two feet, you latch onto him and whined, "You won't leave me won't you, Alastor? I'd hate for my most important and capable person to leave!"
"I wouldn't dare think of it, Madam," he replies as he covers your hand with his as he guides you to the dinner table, where several plates of food you loved was presented so fancily. You gushed at the food, and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before sitting down and tasting a few pieces of everything.
Alastor recovers from your affectionate gesture and pushes your chair in and drapes a napkin over you to not soil your clothes that he meticulously picked.
This was (Y/n), one of the most powerful overlords who reigned over Pentagram City. She controls quite a number of souls from decades of ruling. They say she manifested in hell, seemingly overnight, toppling overlords who were once held an iron grip over the denizens of hell. Tall tales were spread about your fearsome power and your signature cleaver. After establishing your position, you opened a meat shop and restaurant. Cannibal and non-cannibal options of course. You were crazy, but you had class, okay?
Many are frightened at just the thought of you alone, some sinners say that all demons that crossed you would end up on their plate. To set a clear stance what would happen if they dared question her power.
"Oh, Calastor! Good morning, my love! Did you have a good nap?" you ask picking up the red cat who gave you kitten licks on your face.
However, all Alastor could see was a very cheerful and clumsy woman. He recalls the first time he met you. He was roaming and analyzing where he was and how the power was at play arriving here shortly in hell. Unexpectedly, he got caught in a crossfire between you and large dinosaur like demon. When he saw you transform into your larger demon form, he was mesmerized at such power. You didn't hesitate for a second to go for the kill.
After capturing the dinosaur demon and keeping him in your inventory to make a meal out of later. He failed to dodge the hand that grabbed him and pulled him closer to your face.
"And who might you be?" you asked sultrily with a dissonant voice that overlapped with each other making him gulp at the wonders it was doing for his body to react a certain way towards the sound.
"Alastor, Madam. Pleasure to be meeting you!" he replies with his usual transatlantic tone, keeping composure despite seconds away from being crushed in your hand.
You smile and replied, "You're polite, how cute. You wouldn't mind if I keep you right?"
Without even a chance to reply, you return to your castle where you changed him into a butler uniform and bombarded him with your troubles and how you were so lonely that no one wanted to be friends with you. So, when you saw him ogling you, you couldn't help but keep him to yourself. You couldn't bear the thought of someone else picking him up other than you.
Alastor, in all his years, didn't once try to escape despite his situation. Sure, it was peculiar and sudden, but he never once felt uncomfortable in his setting. On the contrary, he felt very much at home with you, and even accepting your affectionate gestures.
A few pecks on the lips, cheek and neck wasn't disgusting when it was from you. He enjoyed your warm hugs where you'd eventually fall asleep on him and have him take you to your room. Only for you to pout and pull him on the bed with you and sleep with him.
He just couldn't say no to you. After all. He did love you. He was yours, as you were his.
IM TAKING ASKS FOR THIS ONE TOO
🔗Cannibal Chef! Reader TAGLIST:
@bonnie-02, @marxo5, @whaatttlaufey, @froggybich, @rybunnie, @midorichoco, @lucifers-silhouette, @kimmis-stuff, @bontensbabygirl, @janey, @akiqvq, @wonderlandangelsposts, @spoiled-slutt, @roboticsuccubus83, @atlas-rin, @yuriohoe04, @azullynxx, @milk-bulb, @rainynyy, @s2tng, @aria-tempest, @speedycoffeedelight, @0strawberrysorbet0, @amitiel-truth, @corvid007, @kaminarithebest, @enby-goblin
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spacedlexi · 4 months
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i Need to draw more clemviminnie shit but how am i supposed to do that when minnie only exists alongside them for 2 episodes then dies
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#its why i alive her for some post s4 stuff just so i have more to work with 😔#but i dont Love doing that....she sealed her fate..she was lost in the sauce...#but theres so much there..............#the way minnie was concerned for vi while betrayed!vi and clem were fighting in the cell she def still had feelings...#they still wouldve been dating if she was never taken like......#ITS SO MESSY I LOVE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#like while i Do think there was some tension in their relationship somewhere bc that line in the woods didnt come from nowhere#no matter how changed she was by the delta that sentiment had to come from somewhere. maybe she could just never say it#but idk if they wouldve broken up over it and there was no reason for violets feelings to change either. she just grieved her 'death'#vi says the real minnie is gone and that she'll do what she has to to keep everyone else safe but like....#theres no way shes not still conflicted on some level like you can see it on the boat she cant leave her. esp since she kinda blames hersel#minnie being clems dark reflection but clem is minnies reflection just as much (obvs) the tension is palpable between them#clem being the part of herself that she killed when she killed sophie...the symbolism of killing your own twin...#and how much does clem remind her of sophie too like whos clem Really mirroring here#THERES SO MUCH MEAT THAT IM CHEWING ON THIS IS A GRAND MEAL#and i cant fucking do anything about it 😭 seriously how do i work within these constraints#there isnt even a 2 week jump like there is in ep2 theres no unaccounted for time in eps 3 and 4 ITS KILLING ME#i bet in a betrayed!vi route minnie was glad to see her when they made it to the boat. and vi feeling betrayed by clem was a perfect target#totally susceptible. minnie gets in her head that its safer to give in instead of fighting back... and now theyre together again...#vi betrayed by clem falling right back into minnies arms OOF girl get away she is Fucked Up..theyre both fucked up 😭 clem u broke her#betrayed!vis reaction to hearing minnies confession about sophie..girl must have been so emotionally fucked in that cell#mmm toxic yuri mmmmm :)#god clemvi really has it all..............................................#why would i need anything else...when clemvi is here#twdg#it speaks#still cant believe my fave girlie really got it all :)
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lovebugism · 8 months
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eddie x shy!reader , she asks him on a date by giving him tickets to a concert and he thinks its a joke til she walks away feeling rejected & he realizes she’s like dead serious & goes up to her
thanks for your request! i sorta broke my own heart with this one — the one where eddie rejects you and immediately regrets it (shy!reader, hurt/comfort, 2.6k)
bug's summer fic fest ♡
Robin tells you that he’s nice. She says he won’t turn you down because he loves Mötley Crüe too much and he’s called you pretty too many times. Robin Buckley is many things — a dork, a polyglot, and your best friend, to name a few — but she’s never been a liar.
She wouldn’t lead you to the slaughter that way. She wouldn’t just let you get your heart broken. More than anything, though, she knows Eddie far better than you do — partly because she’s actually able to talk to him.
So despite your lingering worry, you swallow her words like a shot of vodka and maneuver helplessly through the bustling crowd of the Hawkins High lunchroom.
Eddie Munson sits alone at the Hellfire Club table — the smallest one in the very back corner by the large square window. 
Instead of eating a real meal (even though the hamburgers might be horse meat instead of cow), the boy eats crumbled-up pretzels from a worn ziplock bag. He pinches them into his mouth blindly because his chocolate syrup gaze is trained on the well-loved book folded in his left hand. 
J.R.R Tolkien’s, The Hobbit.
It makes you smile softly to yourself. You hope one day you’ll have the courage to tell him you’ve read that book so many times you could recite it in your sleep. You hope that day comes soon.
“Eddie?” you call softly to him when you reach his table. Your sweaty fingers fidget with the concert tickets you clutch between them.
He just thinks he hears his name at first. It’s barely audible over the sounds of muddled chatter in the cafeteria. He glances up from his book, not expecting anyone to be there, and gaping when he finds you standing in front of him. 
His cinnamon eyes go wide. The boy blinks owlishly at you once, then flits his eyes behind you like he’s expecting to see someone there. When he doesn’t, he blinks at you again. 
“Hi…” you waver with a trembling smile.
Eddie grins back, still obviously confused. “…Hi?”
“I, uh… I don’t know if you heard, but— well, obviously you heard, that’s… that’s stupid,” you laugh at yourself, shaking your head with your eyes squeezed shut. You’re already stumbling all over yourself, and you haven’t even managed a full sentence yet.
“Mötley Crüe is coming to Indianapolis in a few days, and a friend of mine was selling tickets, so I bought them. For us. Potentially. You know, if you wanted to… to go… With me.”
Your offer lingers and hangs in the air between the two of you.
A smile quirks at the right side of Eddie’s pink mouth. It isn’t a kind one, though. It looks more cynical than anything else.
His head juts back. He’s almost peering at you from the corner of his eye as though you were some suspicious thing he needed to analyze. A laugh sputters from his lips. “Did Buckley put you up to this? Is that what this is?”
Your faltering smile fades entirely. Your features crumble in disappointment.
This worse he could say is no, Robin had told you. 
You hadn’t prepared yourself for this.
“…What?” you wonder, voice fragile like a wilting flower petal.
Eddie chuckles to himself. He sets the book down to give you his full attention, though you’re not sure you want it anymore. “You know, I knew she was upset about me trying to set her up with Vickie and all, but this is a… whole new low.”
“Vickie…?” you murmur through a tightening throat, brows pinched in confusion. “I don’t understand—”
“Look, sweetheart… Tell Robin that this was a real funny joke, but I’m not interested, alright?”
Your chest aches with an empty feeling. You think your heart might be breaking. “J—Joke?”
“—Actually, tell her that this was very not metal of her, and that I will get my vengeance,” Eddie says with a sardonic laugh deeply rooted in his chest. His smile looks almost like he pities you as he shakes his head, eyes twinkling with pessimism. “I’m sorry she sent you to do her dirty work, but… You should probably go now. This is, you know, the Hellfire Club table and everything, so…”
You swallow thickly, then nod.
Eddie doesn’t want you here. Eddie doesn’t want you at all.
“I’m— I’m sorry if I…” The words get caught in your throat. You clear it and blink back burning tears. “I was just… I thought that maybe—”
“Eddie!” a boyish voice calls from across the cafeteria, only halfway drowned out through all the noise. A group of guys in Hellfire shirts walk towards the table.
You take that as your cue to leave. You don’t want to burst into tears in front of your crush and all of his friends.
“I’m sorry,” is all you manage to choke out before turning on your heel and walking away.
He’d been smiling up until that point — like it was all a big joke to him — because it was. 
The girl he’s been fawning over since junior year comes out of nowhere with tickets to see one of his favorite bands? That was the kind of shit he dreamt about — the kind of plan only someone as vicious as Robin Buckley could concoct to hurt his feelings. And after spending so many years being the brunt of bullies, Eddie was tired of being embarrassed.
And at first, he thought you were just a really good actor. You did look almost genuinely confused when he’d snuffed out the plan so quickly. But those wide, glassy eyes you looked at him with — he doesn’t know if a person can fake that sort of heartbreak. That looked real.
Eddie had been close to commending himself for not letting Robin win. He thought he was a genius for not allowing Buckley to use you against him. Now he knows he’s the same dumbass he's always been.
“Hey, man…” Gareth wavers as he sits at his designated seat adjacent to Eddie’s. The boy’s forlorn and faraway gaze doesn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the club. They all share looks of confusion, but the sandy-haired boy is the only one brave enough to speak up. “You okay?”
Eddie keeps his gaze trained on your figure as you maneuver through the crowd. Robin looks happy for you when you reach her, but the puppy-like excitement washes away when she notices how sad you are. 
He feels like someone’s shoved a knife between his ribcage. He wonders if this is what a broken heart feels like.
“I think I screwed up,” he answers, laughing cynically at himself. “Like, big time.”
“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time, right?” Dustin jokes before popping a fry into his mouth. He laughs, but no one else joins him. “…Right?”
Eddie glares at the boy.
He cowers. “…Kidding. I was kidding.”
—————
He stews over it all day — your offer and what he said to you and how sad you looked after he said it. 
He pictures your pinched brows and big, glassy eyes and his chest starts to burn a little. Everyone always thought he was some raging asshole just because he had crazy hair and a crazier taste in music. Now he feels like they were sort of right about him. 
Whatever chance he had with you has surely turned to dust by now. It wouldn’t surprise him after he shrugged you off like he did. But after waging a nearly four-hour war in his mind between lunch and dismissal, he knows he has to make sure. 
He has to know if he’s ruined things entirely or if there’s a glimmer of hope he can hang onto.
He comes to you at the end of the day, dripping in metaphorical blood from the mental carnage he’d endured. He stood across the hall from you for five whole minutes as he tried to come up with something to say. He walks to your locker empty-handed and just blurts, “I thought you were joking,” like a total idiot.
Through the muddled conversation in the bustling hallway, you hadn’t heard him coming. You didn’t know he was there at all until he was right next to you. Seeing someone so suddenly close to you makes you flinch — hard.
And it’s not totally Eddie’s fault. You’re jumpy and too easily frightened at times, but he can’t help but feel like he’s messing things up more than he already has.
“Oh…” you deflate with a sigh, eyes still wide and swimming with something he can’t quite place. You look like you’re almost relieved to see him. Almost. 
“Sorry— shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to…” The boy stumbles over his words, then trails off when they don’t come out the way he wants. He shakes his head and finds it in himself to smile. It’s bitter, though, filled with self-abhorrence. “I wasn’t trying to scare you.”
With one hand still clutching the door of your locker, and the other gripping a stack of textbooks, you peer at him through your lashes. “I know. It’s okay. I just— I wasn’t expecting it…”
He grimaces. “Sorry…”
“’S okay,” you repeat.
“I, um, I only came in so hot ‘cause I wanted to apologize— you know, for earlier. In the lunch room,” he stammers and puts his fidgeting hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. He tries to laugh, but it comes out more as an insincere puff of air. “Honestly, I thought you were joking.”
Your brows pinch. “Joking? Why would I—”
“I sorta locked Robin and Vickie in the old chemistry room in the east wing a few days ago,” he confesses, bouncing his shoulders. “Just because I know they both like each other and everything, and I thought maybe they’d finally admit it if they were alone together.”
“Okay…?” 
“Well, they didn’t. And Robin was pissed. So I thought she was using you to get back at me.”
“Using me?” you echo.
“Yeah. ‘Cause I’ve kinda been into you since junior year and everything,” he admits with a nonchalant shrug. The corner of his rosy mouth quirks into a half-smile. “It’s, like, the one card Robin could use against me that would actually hurt, you know? If she did try to get me back.”
Your heart swells so much it hurts, almost — the same kind of hurt you'd felt in the lunch room earlier. It feels fiery, like someone’s taken a match to your ribcage and lit your heart aglow. But it’s different now. This is a good hurt, a happy hurt.
“Really?” you squint at him, your voice high and light. Your lips twitch like you want to smile, but you don’t let yourself — lest this all turns out to be some kind of elaborate dream. Or a joke.
“Since we had Mr. Kaminsky’s together, yeah,” Eddie affirms with a slow, confident nod. His chocolate eyes flit up to the water-stained ceiling. “Let’s see… We were learning about reproduction, and Tommy Hagan made some stupid joke about using you as a real-life model instead of the pictures in the textbook—”
“I remember,” you nod, trying not to shudder at the memory that still haunts you. 
“And I told him that he was making it real obvious that he’s never seen an actual vagina before and that the one in the textbook looked a lot like his mom’s,” the boy recalls with a soft laugh. “And you looked over at me, and you smiled, and I… have been a goner ever since.”
He looks down at you again, all sheepish like he isn’t gluing your broken heart back together again. His chocolate eyes twinkle in a way you’ve never seen before. They sparkle in their softness. You have to look away before it turns you into a puddle at his feet. 
You smile widely into your locker, pursing it off to the side in attempts to conceal its brightness. 
“No one’s ever stuck up for me like that before,” you confess quietly after a few moments, peeking at him from the corner of your eye. “I’m pretty sure I gushed to Robin about it for days.”
“Yeah?” Eddie hums. He can feel his hopes getting too high.
“Yeah. I told her all about the pretty boy in the back of the room that finally got Tommy H. to leave me alone.”
“Oh… You think he’s pretty, huh?” the boy teases despite his pink cheeks.
You nod — made much braver by his previous admission — though you still have a little trouble looking him in the eye. You drag a notebook from your locker as you tell him, “I think he’s very pretty.”
“Well, I have it on good authority that the boy you think is pretty is super sorry for being such an asshole to you earlier,” Eddie murmurs, his nose scrunched and head tilted. “And that he’d really love to go to that concert with you— if you haven’t found some other schmuck to go with you, that is.”
Your eyes light up like a Christmas tree as you beam at him. No one’s ever looked at him that way before now.
“I’d like that,” you nod, then shrug. “I don’t think I’d wanna go with anyone else, anyway…”
“So, it’s a date?” Eddie asks, just to make sure. His raised brows disappear behind his fluffy bangs. His chin tilts to his chest as he smiles hopefully down at you.
You nod, and repeat it more softly than the loudmouth boy. “It’s a date.”
Eddie can feel himself grinning like an idiot. His cheeks ache with how wide he’s beaming at you, but he's too lovesick to stop. Like squinting into the sun, smiling every time he looks at you is muscle memory by now. 
And what did a freak like him ever do to deserve a date with the freakin’ sun?
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Danny, at 17, did not have the best love life. This is partially because two of his must haves in a partner are " Will protect me with their life" and "Will commit unspeakable acts of violence for me" or at least beat someone up for his honor.
Naturally, this doesn't always result in the most stable of partners.
His first girlfriend, Valerie, became an anti-hero and broke up with him for his safety.
He finally got with Sam in sophomore year only for the feds to come into class one day to arrest her. To his surprise, her crimes had nothing to do with ghosts but rather an incident where she went too far and committed a few acts of economic terrorism. Danny and Tucker never really learned the specifics of the crimes, and her parents hushed up as many news outlets as they could, so there wasn't much info to go around. All they knew was that she saved thousands of lives by doing it.
In the end, she was sentenced to eight years, and she broke up with him so that he wouldn't wait around for her to get out.
His third partner was a guy named David who was really sweet. Unfortunately, Danny got kidnapped one day by David's arch nemesis, who was some villain with a corny edge lord name. Yeah. David had become a a super hero after they started dating.
And if you guessed that he freaked out and dumped Danny for his own protection, you'd deserve a cookie.
Danny was noticing a pattern here. One that continued with everyone he dated. They always became some kind of hero before dumping him for his own protection, and it was infuriating. Sure, danny could defend himself, but he was never deep enough into the relationship to reveal his phantom half, and frankly, his hero career was something he left behind when he left Amity and destroyed the portals.
He met Tim at a skatepark after Tim fell off his board cause of some jerk speeding out in front of him on his own board, forcing Tim to stop or else hit the guy. The guy was unrepentant and Tim calmed him down (this did not stop him from melting the guys wheels with an ectoblast when no one was looking).
Tim then asked him to coffee. Danny, noticing how cute Tim was, agreed.
Danny was up front with his parents being mad scientists in Illinois. He always was with all the people he dated. It was better not to hide these kinds of things or worse, wait until you're already attached and afraid of losing them. So he always told potential partners as early as possible. Tim seemed a bit put off by this but was calmer about it than most, and they continued chatting.
Tim didn't seem like the type to turn to heroism or anti heroism so he felt safe on their later dates. It was only after he had known Tim for a while that he put the pieces together.
Tim was always covered in bruises that he hid with his clothes and make up, he had complained about batman over the phone when he thought danny couldn't hear, he was rich, he knew how to fight as revealed by his stances and footwork dispite trying to pretend he didn't, and lastly he held a lot of political power and influence being Bruce Wayne's son. Power he had no reservations using when it suited him or he was just feeling petty (that pettiness was part of why danny was falling for him harder than he thought he could)
No wonder Tim was so okay with his parents being rouges.
Tim was a villain!
At least Tim wouldn't leave him like all his exes. Danny doesn't think he could handle it if he did. Another good thing about this is now he can talk more freely about the more villainous and morally gray ideas and inventions when he was alone with Tim.
Tim didn't see anything wrong with Danny's idea to use something similar to cloning pods to make synthetic meats like rump roasts and steaks as a way to end world hunger and was eager to add to the conversation.
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andersonlore · 4 months
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Abby and reader getting into an argument where they both know r is right but Abby is just being so goddamn stubborn ohmygod. So r just ups and flashes Abby with their tits to shut her up. Abby stutters and slowly loses her resolve until she finally shortcircuits
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❛ THE PRETTY GIRL BEHIND THE BAR. ❜
†⠀warnings y disclaimers — eighteen+, dom!reader, sub!abby, poc!friendly, jealous!abby, soft nsfw, stubborn!abby.
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Abby never should have been flirting with the bartender. She knows it just as well as you do. You had every right to be upset. Abby was your girl, not anyone else's, and she just let it happen. Right in front of you.
It made you sick and God, her dismal of it was even more infuriating. Her stubbornness shining through as you tried to make her see where you were coming from, but it seemed the attention was going right to her head.
"So, what if she was flirting? Why does it matter?" Abby was trying to worm her way out, but you wouldn't let her. Not this time.
"It's one thing to entertain it Abby but c'mon, look with your eyes. You let her feel you up right in front of me. Do you seriously not see how disrespectful that is?”
"She was not all over me and she did not feel me up." Abby defended.
"Really? You're going to play dumb right now? That's the side you want to take. You've got to be kidding me." Clearly, you were frustrated but your words only angered Abby.
"You're calling me dumb right now? For the love of god, she didn't touch me."
"Maybe you didn't notice because you were too caught up in the pretty girl behind the bar but anyone with eyes could see she was all over you." You walked away from her as the two of you walked into your shared apartment as Abby slammed the door behind her.
"She kept touching your arm and you did nothing. She tugged at the end of your braid; you did nothing. Anderson, she was looking at you like you were a piece of meat and you just let her! It was like I was fucking invisible." You were beyond pissed and the smirk on her lips wasn't helping.
Abby was too damn confident for her own good, always putting her foot in her mouth before she even spoke.
"Anderson? Wow. You're really angry, baby." She took a step closer, but you took two steps back.
"Don't 'baby' me. Are you being serious right now?"
You couldn’t believe her. She had the nerve to stand there, beautiful as can be, with a smile you would kill for but right now? You wanted nothing more than to deck her in the face. Abby always did this, and it pissed you off to no fucking end. Abby always had to let you know how wanted she is and how lucky you were to have her. It truly was nauseating.
“Just admit it, Anderson. She fucking touched you and you let her.” You threw it back at her, tired of this back and forth.
“If you call me Anderson one more time, I swear to god.”
“You’ll what? Flirt with someone else in front of me?” You stepped forward, cocking your head to the side. “I have to say, the more you do it, it might just lose it’s impact.”
“Are you sure? You’re pretty wound up right now, baby. Just can’t stand when my attention is elsewhere, can you?” 
You wanted to scream at her, but you couldn’t. Even if the chances of those baby blues welling up into tears were slim, you couldn’t let your anger get the best of you. All of this was intentional. Her pressing, her flirting, her acting like she oblivious to it. Abby wanted a reaction out of you. Boy, was she getting one. Still, you didn’t want to do anything to upset her, even if it seemed she was trying to do the opposite for you.
If she wanted to play with fire, so be it. You’d just have to cool her off enough so you could have a conversation about this without her cocky persona jumping in at any given moment.
The smirk dropped from her Abby’s face as soon as her brain registered what you were doing. Carefully, nimble fingers were unbuttoning the vest top you had on. You’d worn it just for her too. Abby loves the way it makes your breasts look, cleavage busting at the top. It usually would make her insatiable, but no. Tonight, she decided to keep her attention elsewhere.
You would make her pay for it.
“What are you doing?” Her breath hitches, and you try to smirk but you’re failing just as she was before.
“What does it look like I’m doing?”
“W-We’re fighting now, right?” Abby was so unsure of herself. Part of her believed she was imagining this. You slowly taking off your top, and God you weren’t wearing a bra either.
You really were trying to kill her, Abby thought.
“Yep, you’re really pissing me off, Anderson.”
“T-them, uh, why- oh fuck.” Abby tried to speak but it trailed off to a curse as you tossed your top onto the back of couch and made your way right to her.
“Why don’t you tell me exactly why your attention was elsewhere?” Your perky tits on display for her was torture, because she knew if she tried to touch you, her hand would be smacked immediately.
“C’mon, don’t be shy Anderson. Tell how much of a crazy fucking girlfriend I am. Go on. Fucking speak.” You demanded from her, but the blonde still found herself tripping over her words, unable to complete one sentence.
“I-I, um, y-y-you know, fuck, what do you want me to say baby? Please, I’ll do anything. Jus’ want to make it up to you.” Her eyes maintain eye contact with flesh exposed for her enjoyment, or rather yours. You liked doing this to her. Flipping the dominate switch to submissive and watching her crumble.
Abby knew it would be more than worth it once you had the harness and strap on, fucking her so dumb. Her pussy fluttered at the thought of it. She wanted you to stretch her out – turn her into your little fuck toy. You liked it, loved it even. Tearing apart someone so strong, until she was putty in your hands and begging for it.
It’s what she deserved after pulling the little stunt today.
She needed to be put in her place and you were more than happy to oblige.
“For starters, stop looking at my tits and look in my eyes.” Abby obeyed you, anticipating your next move.
“Now, be a good girl. Go upstairs, strip for me. I want you naked on the bed, and Mommy will be up there to remind you exactly who you belong to.” You slapped her ass as she moved hastily up the steps leading into your bedroom.
Let’s just say, Abby was in the for a long night.
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valeskafics · 5 months
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"Speechless" - Jafar!Aemond Targaryen x Jasmine!Reader
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a/n: dedicating this to the jafar girlies, @the-wonderland-madnesss @the-common-cowgirl @hoosbandewan. janear, jafar, jawherever you are, i love you hoes 🩷 request from @the-shadow-queen02
Summary: Prince Aemond Targaryen comes to Sunspear as an envoy from King's Landing, an advisor to your father, King Qoren. He soon begins to make plans for how to charm his way onto the throne of Dorne - and into your bed.
TW: extremely dubious consent, dark/possessive/yandere behavior, profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, afab reader, ye olde bondage, choking, overstim, oral f receiving, fingering, p in v sex, breeding kink, tiddy succin
Word Count: 3,500 words
Rating: 18+, MDNI
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷
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When you learn that none other than the second son of King Viserys is being sent to Sunspear to serve as an advisor to your father, you cannot help but feel suspicious. Your country may be small, but your people value their independence above all else. This seems like a thinly veiled ruse to bring Dorne into the Seven Kingdoms, something your father does not seem to understand.
As his heir, it is you that is sent to greet Prince Aemond upon his arrival. You watch as he circles the skies atop Vhagar before landing at the newly commissioned dragonpit. You roll your eyes, thinking to yourself what a waste of coin it was to have that built when you have every intention of getting rid of this man as quickly as possible.
He strides over toward you, his leather coat billowing behind him, all sharp features and light-colored hair, looking entirely out of place. You smirk to yourself at the thought that he must be uncomfortably warm under the scorching Dornish sun. You greet him with a quick bow of your head, refusing to give him the honor of a full curtsy. What has he done to deserve your respect? He, however, chooses to bow low at the waist, gazing up at you, lips curled into a smirk. Gods, how you despise him already.
“Princess. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
Dorne may be the home of the viper, but you have never heard a more serpentine voice than his.
“Prince Aemond. Welcome to Sunspear,” you greet, ignoring his outstretched hand as he approaches you.
You’ll be damned if you let him kiss your hand, or any other part of your body. You despise the way he looks you up and down, as if you are a fine cut of meat rather than a woman. You know that in Dorne, clothes are more revealing than how Westerosi typically dress. He is likely not used to seeing so much exposed skin as you are showing in your saree. But you do your best to ignore his lustful gaze and wait for him to respond.
“Thank you, Princess. It is a great honor to be selected to serve as your father’s advisor. I have long admired King Qoren.”
You barely resist the urge to laugh in his face. An admirer of your father’s, hm? How convenient. This silver-tongued creature will say anything to make people let down their guard around him, you realize. You must be even more careful than you thought necessary. That’s when he speaks again.
“And might I just say, you are just as beautiful as I was led to believe, if not more so.”
Again, you are tempted to laugh in his face, but you keep your expression impassive, leading him toward the castle, “The servants are waiting to show you to your quarters. After you have settled in, they will take you to meet my father. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
He steps closer to you in an attempt to lessen the distance between you, “Please, there is no need to stand on ceremony on my account. Let us be friends, Princess.”
You arch a brow, “I do not know why your father has sent you here, my prince, but rest assured that while my father may believe you have good intentions, I do not. You and I will never be friends.”
As you turn to leave, your entire body tenses when he grabs you by the hand, pulling you back to him so that you stumble against his chest, resting your free hand against him to balance yourself.
“Your father thinks highly of me, Princess, and of my opinion.” Aemond’s voice is cool and measured, but his gaze on you is anything but as he continues, his hand moving along the bare skin of your arm in a way you find far too inappropriate for complete strangers, “You would do well to respect that and recognize my worth instead of being so cold.” The one-eyed prince stares into your eyes, that single blue iris boring into you as he lowers his voice and speaks once more, “I like you, Princess. And I think you will come to like me.”
You narrow your eyes at him, lips pressed together in a firm line as you yank your arm back from him and walk away, feeling his gaze boring into you as you turn the corner.
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As Aemond gets dressed for dinner that evening, in clothes more well-suited to the Dornish climate provided by his hosts, he thinks of nothing but you. You, with your soft, warm skin, your eyes lined with kohl, gazing up at him with nothing but distaste. Your full lips, the curve of your hips, the swell of your breasts, your hair… He has never desired a woman so badly in his life. And he has met his share of beautiful women, being a prince. But none have ever intrigued him the way you do. The way you seem to be so hateful toward him, the way you looked at him. He doesn’t think his cock has ever been harder in his entire life.
And so, he spends the next few months so deeply ingratiating himself into your father’s life that he makes himself irreplaceable. And the more time he spends with your father, the more time you are subsequently forced to spend with him as the heir to the throne. You stoke a fire inside him every time he sees you, his mouth nearly watering at the revealing attire you wear.
He knows that your father has given you the freedom to choose your own groom, so long as you manage to do so within the next three moons, before your one and twentieth nameday. Ser Ulrick Dayne appears to be a favorite for your hand, and Aemond knows something must be done about him.
After he has taken care of his rival for your affections, he finds you sitting and playing with your younger sisters, Aliandra and Coryanne, your infant brother Qyle in your arms. The sight makes him think that you would make a wonderful mother to his own children, after he manages to get you into his bed of course. You chide your siblings playfully, a radiant smile on your face as you coo and fuss over Qyle. Aemond approaches you, a look of faux solemnity on his face. The moment you see him, your expression sours and you greet him coldly.
“Your Grace,” you say stiffly, holding Qyle on your hip, “Might I ask why you are here?”
“I come bearing quite unfortunate news, my princess,” he says in his most sympathetic voice, “Your suitor, Ser Ulrick, has been dismissed.”
Your eyes go wide with surprise before narrowing in anger as you glare up at him, “On what grounds?”
“Theft, dear lady,” Aemond sighs dramatically, “We found him in the treasury, filling his pockets with the throne’s coffers. Such a shame, and you were so very close to finalizing the betrothal as well.”
“Ulrick would not steal,” you say angrily, setting Qyle back into his cradle and storming toward Aemond, fire in your eyes as you declare, “The Daynes are one of the wealthiest families in the country. He has no need of our coin.”
“Oh, but he has already been sentenced to banishment, per your father’s instruction,” Aemond’s hand moves to your bare waist, feeling how smooth and warm your skin is against his palm, smirking to yourself as you try to slide out of his grip, “I am afraid you won’t be seeing Ser Ulrick again, sweet princess. And that leaves you quite without a suitor.”
Your lips curl back into a sneer that he finds rather attractive as you reply bitingly, “And let me guess, you have convinced my poor, stupid father that you are the best man for the job.”
“Indeed,” he smirks, his thumb caressing your hip, “Your father has decreed that you are to marry me. We will be quite happy together, my princess. I know I will make an excellent King Consort and advisor to you when you take the throne.” He leans in, inhaling the scent of your hair, a sweet smell of jasmine, “And I know you will bear me many strong children.”
“Ha! You must be delusional if you believe I will let you touch me, you snake,” you hiss, shoving him away, “Mark my words, I will convince my father of the error of his ways and this ill-begotten match will be canceled.”
Aemond watches with no little amount of amusement as you storm off, listening from outside the throne room as your father tells you that you have no choice and are to marry his most trusted advisor. That you wasted time in your dalliance with Ser Ulrick and this is the consequence of your actions.
Things could not be going better for Prince Aemond.
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On the eve of your wedding, Aemond takes it upon himself to spy on you in the royal baths. He stares as you remove your clothes, setting them to the side before stepping into the hot water, the steam slightly obscuring your visage. Aemond thinks to himself how lucky he is to have found such a handsome bride. He can almost feel the soft curves of your breasts and thighs under his palms. It takes every bit of self restraint he possesses to refrain from joining you in the bath, his hand working his cock as you turn around, exposing your bare breasts to him, so soft and round and full.
One of your maidservants washes your hair as you cleanse your body with your jasmine and lavender oils, the intoxicating aroma making him want you all the more. Soon, he thinks with no little amount of glee, it will be him washing your body, rinsing your hair, your back pressed flush against his front. He will fuck you in the royal baths at least once a day, he thinks to himself. He never thought of himself as one for depravity like his dear older brother, but you seem to bring out the beast in him. All he can think about is how your lips must taste, how he’ll feel buried inside your cunt, how you’ll squeeze around him so perfectly tight as he gives you his seed. How your belly will swell with his babe, and as soon as you have given birth, he will fuck you full of another one, your round stomach serving as a reminder to all at court that you belong to him and him alone. That he is the one who gets to bed and breed you every night. He knows the noises you make as he pleasures you will be intoxicating, in that sweet yet venomous voice of yours.
Aemond spills himself in his hand with a low moan of your name, watching as your head snaps up, looking for the source of the sound. He chuckles to himself, stepping back into the shadows, leaving you to your thoughts, and thinking of his plan to come to your chambers after your bath. He has no intention of waiting until the bedding ceremony tomorrow, not after seeing you in such a state. He must have you tonight, have you screaming his name as he pounds into you and fucks you full of his spend.
After all, your body is his right as your husband.
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When he opens the door to your chambers, Aemond is not surprised to find you with a knapsack in hand, your bed sheets tied together in a makeshift rope as you try to run away the night before your impending nuptials. He clicks his tongue, causing you to turn and meet his gaze, freezing in place. He chuckles to himself as he walks toward you with all the grace of an apex predator, about to corner its prey. His smile is too sharp to be considered kind or genuine, the look in his eye hungry, like a dragon ready to devour a lamb. He backs you up against the wall of your chambers, body pressed against yours, his hands moving to rest on the bare skin of your waist. Your choice of clothing is laughable for an escape attempt, he thinks, as he eyes the red salwar pants and the red bedlah top you wear, emphasizing your full breasts, baring your midriff to him. He licks his lips before speaking.
“My little snake, where do you think you’re slithering off to, so late at night? And on the eve of our wedding?”
He is taken by surprise when you look up at him through your lashes, a coy little smile playing on your lips as you purr so very seductively, “Oh, Prince Aemond… I never realized how very handsome you are…”
Aemond chuckles, gazing into your eyes intensely as your fingertips graze his cheek before playing with his hair, your sweet breath feeling so perfect against his neck, “Oh? I am glad you are finally able to see my charms, kelītsos.” (kitten)
You give a little giggle at the nickname, nuzzling up against him. Aemond feels his cock twitch in his pants, falling completely under your spell as his hands move to hold you in place. He grinds his hips against yours, letting out a low, shuddering moan as he sits on your bed, pulling you onto his lap. You continue caressing his face, driving him nearly mad with want.
“I do love your scar, my prince,” you coo, “It’s so very attractive in such a primal way. You make me burn with desire for you, Your Grace. My future husband.”
Aemond lets out a groan, pulling you in by the thighs, kissing your chest above the fabric of your blouse, burying his face between your breasts. He feels your fingers tracing his scar, twirling around his eyepatch as you continue whispering sweet nothings, your scent absolutely intoxicating. His hands move to the flesh of your ass, squeezing it, letting out a low moan as you press your lips to his, so soft and sweet and perfect.
And that’s when he feels it. His own blade, held against his throat. He can’t help but chuckle at the irony as you glare at him.
“Don’t fucking move,” you hiss.
Aemond stares at you, his eye still blown wide with want as he grabs your wrist, pressing a kiss to the inside of it, his tongue tracing over your pulse point in a way that makes your stomach squirm. You let out a cry of surprise as he squeezes your wrist, making you drop the dagger, before pressing you down onto the bed, his body covering yours, pinning your wrists above your head. He grabs one of the makeshift ropes you had created for your escape, and in another cruel twist of fate, he uses the cloth that was supposed to take you to your freedom to tie your wrists to the bed. You tug at your restraints, glaring up at him angrily.
“Oh, kelītsos, I am going to have such fun breaking you. Bending you to my will. You are mine, you know. And in the end, I’ll have you begging for my touch, my sweet little snake.” You spit in his face, though it only serves to excite him all the more, judging by the little smirk he gives you, “Oh, I do love your fire, little one.”
You wince as you feel his hands on the bare skin of your stomach, his lips soon replacing them as he kisses your sensitive flesh. His teeth graze against you before you feel his tongue teasing at your navel. You twist your body in protest, or rather in pleasure as you feel cunt begin to grow wet with want. You hate this man, you despise him with every fiber of your being, and yet none of your previous lovers have managed to make you feel like this. His breath is hot against your skin as he removes your pants, his eye widening in delight when he realizes your outfit does not allow for smallclothes beneath it. He eyes your slick folds with no small degree of hunger, nipping at your thigh before beginning to lap at your cunt. You try to squirm away from him, but he spreads your thighs open, holding them apart as he feasts on you, letting out the most lewd and obscene noises as he does. He alternates between suckling at your pearl and rubbing it with his thumb, fucking you with his tongue and with his fingers.
You feel entirely overwhelmed as you reach your peak, your body shaking, but he has no intention of stopping. You let out a strangled noise of protest as he rubs his nose against your pearl and begins his efforts anew. He flattens his tongue against your sensitive nub, three fingers buried knuckle-deep inside you, moving in and out at an impossibly fast pace. He feels you tighten around him when he brushes against that spot deep inside of you, and instead focuses his attention there, curving his fingers, rubbing over and over, reveling in the sound of your pathetic mewls of his name as you reach your peak at his hands once more.
You stare up at him as he removes his tunic and breeches, revealing his sinewy muscles, his pale skin, and finally, his long cock, swaying slightly, his arousal already dripping from the tip. You feel your entire body tense with anticipation. You’ve never had a partner quite as big as him and you lick your lips, feeling excitement at the idea of him fucking you. Aemond chuckles, giving himself a few quick strokes before lining himself up along your cunt.
“Beg for my cock.”
You stare at him in surprise, “What? No. Absolutely not.”
“No?” Aemond mocks, slapping the fat head of his length against your pearl, watching your entire body tremble. He does it again before repeating his demand, “Beg for my cock, kelītsos.”
You swallow your pride, feeling him running the tip along your core, whispering out, “Please fuck me.”
“‘Please fuck me, husband.’”
You roll your eyes and repeat yourself, “Please fuck me, husba-”
You cut yourself off with a loud moan of his name, feeling Aemond sheathe himself inside you to the hilt with one fluid thrust. He fills you up perfectly, and you can feel every vein, every ridge. Aemond, for his part, thinks that your cunt feels just as perfect as he fantasized as he begins rutting against you. He rips open your blouse, admiring the bounce of your breasts as he fucks you, taking one of your pert nipples between his lips, suckling at it while his palm caresses your neglected breast. And with your hands still tied, you’re helpless to do anything but sit there and take this onslaught of pleasure.
“Aemond,” you moan, “Harder.”
He is all too happy to oblige, increasing his pace, his hand flying to your throat, fingers wrapped around your neck as he squeezes ever so slightly. You feel the fat head of his cock brushing against your sweet spot as he continues fucking you.
“Going to spill my seed in that pretty little cunt,” he rasps against you, “Watch you grow fat with my babe and fuck another one into you after that. Everyone will know you’re mine. Your body is mine. Your cunt is mine. You are mine.”
You can do nothing but squeal his name and babble incoherently as he continues fucking you, squeezing your throat once more as he feels you reach your peak around him, squeezing him impossibly tight. He pushes your knees up to your chest, allowing him to fuck you at a deeper angle, feeling the way you tremble around him as you beg him to slow down, though the bucking of your hips says the exact opposite. Aemond chuckles and continues, admiring the way he can see the outline of his cock against your lower stomach as it slides in and out of you. He presses down on it ever so slightly, delighting in the squeal of his name you let out, his stones tightening as he gets closer and closer to his peak, fucking you faster and faster until he spills himself inside of you, circling your swollen pearl with his thumb until you cry out and reach your peak once more.
You two stare at each other for a long moment, Aemond still laying atop you as he murmurs, “Do not think I am finished with you for the night, sweet little wife. I am going to breed you until the morning comes. By our wedding night, I will be sure that you are with child.” He chuckles at your wide-eyed expression, “I have rendered you speechless, I see. A fine quality in a wife.”
You scowl at his words only to moan when he enters you once again, losing yourself in your pleasure.
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Rightfully mine
neteyam x fem!omatikayan reader
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content warning: characters in early 20s, NSFW content, marking, possessive behavior, possessive language, spanking (like 1)
a/n: RDA never came back, takes place in the forest.
synopsis: you had been promised to be neteyam’s mate from a very early age. mo’at had seen your connection with eywa and deduced that you would make a fine tsahìk. you fell for neteyam quickly, but he isn’t very expressive of how he feels toward you. until now.
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throughout your childhood, neteyam was nothing but kind to you. but, you felt as though he simply treated you with the same kindness he showed others. offering to help you with tasks, carrying things for you, accompanying you to wherever you were going. that’s just the kind of person neteyam is. but when you voiced this to kiri…
“no way! no!” the girl huffed, “listen, he may do those things for others as well, but the way he looks at you, as if you have personally placed each star in the sky, that is the difference!”
even with the girls reassurance, you still wished neteyam would display some kind of clearly romantic affection. sometimes you wished he was a little more…possessive over you. but you would always shake those thoughts away. you were very happy neteyam wasn’t one of those partners who felt the need to control their mate. and you were more than content with the sweetheart he is. he doesn’t need to change. but in the end, you still wished for a little more. his first priorities are his duties. whether they be to his father or the people. not only are they important to him, they’re important for the functionality of the clan as well. you would never ask him to put off something so substantial for something as insignificant as you wanting more attention.
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you’re helping prepare lunch, chopping vegetables to go with the meat the hunters had brought back. occasionally, you would chat with the people around you about nothing special. what would pair best with the meat, small gossip, the weather. someone took the place to your right, picking up a knife and beginning to chop vegetables alongside you. you were grateful for the help, as the others were busy preparing the meat or other sides. you turned to tell your new assistant as such, noticing that it’s zuay, a boy only a year or two younger than you, “thank you, i do not know how i would have gotten through all of these myself.”
he smiles, “it is no problem! my training for today ended a few hours ago and i wanted to do something helpful instead of just sitting around.” ahh yes. he is training to be a healer. from what kiri has told you, he is quite good.
“kiri has told me you are excelling in training. i am sure that is why you were dismissed early,” you smile at him, continuing to chop the vegetables.
“kiri? she talks about me?” his voice is a little gentler than it was earlier, but there is excitement hidden beneath his soft words.
“oh yes! i have heard all about you.” this is true. kiri has developed quite the crush on the boy.
“really? what does she say?” his voice is eager now, a beaming smile growing on his face.
“i am afraid i cannot tell you about how she thinks you are kind, and caring, and very handsome. she would have my head,” you send him a teasing smile.
“yes, of course not. is there anything else you cannot tell me?” he has completely ceased chopping vegetables, attention fully on you.
you grin at his zeal, noting that kiris feelings are definitely mutual, “well, i definitely cannot tell you about how she loves the quiet grassy meadows in the forest and how that would definitely be a good place for someone to, i do not know, confess their feelings?”
zuay nods quickly, “thank you!”
you giggle at his excitement, “you can thank me by helping me finish these vegetables.”
the two of you get back to work, occasionally conversing more about kiri, oblivious to the eyes the had been burning holes into your skin from the moment zuay stopped chopping his vegetables. neteyam was far enough that he couldn’t hear your words, but he could see the smile on your face and the boys eager expression. a bitter feeling brewed in his stomach and clawed it’s way up his throat. he didn’t like this. he didn’t like this at all.
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you bid zuay farewell after you finished your contribution to lunch, and offered your luck to him in his endeavor with kiri. you opted to make your way to your tent, deciding to finish up some small activities with your free time. as you lift the flap to your tent, your wrist is gripped by a callused hand and you’re yanked into a strong chest. your wrist is released, both hands opting to wrap around your waist instead. your yellow eyes move up the wall of muscle to the face of your soon-to-be mate. his ears are flat to his head. he doesn’t look happy, but he doesn’t look mad either. it’s an emotion you’ve never seen on his face before, you’re unsure of what to do. you drape your arms over his shoulders, one hand moving to the base of his neck to scratch his scalp. relaxing slightly when the tension in his muscles lessens. voice soft, you ask, “what is wrong nete’?”
he takes a deep breath, eyes moving away from your face as he thinks. eventually, he replies, “what were you talking to that boy about?” his question is spoken as more of a statement.
your brows furrow in confusion, before remembering your earlier chat. “you mean zuay?”
neteyam’s jaw clenches when you speak his name, “yes.”
suddenly, it clicks in your brain. “‘teyam, are you jealous?”
he scoffs at your words, moving to wrap his entire arm around your waist instead of just his hand, “i am not jealous. he does not have anything i want,” his grip on you tightens, “but i did not like how he looked at you. everyone in the clan knows you are sworn to be mine. he should not act as if he has a chance.”
you swoon just slightly, cupping his face, “nete’, you know i am yours. i would never even dream of having anyone else.”
he leans into your touch, “it is not you i am worried about baby,” your cheeks warm at the pet name, “it is others. apparently they are not as aware of who you belong to as i thought.” he pauses for a moment, a darker look crossing his face, “maybe you need a reminder as well.” upon noting your puzzled expression, he elaborates, “you were quite friendly with him.”
“neteyam i was-“
you’re silenced by his soft glare, “remove your clothes and get on the bed.”
you blink, “what?”
he releases your body from his grasp, beginning to remove his own accessories and garments, “do not make me repeat myself.”
your thighs clench together at his authoritative tone. moving to do as he said. once you’ve removed your clothing and jewelry, you sit on your knees on the fluffy blankets covering the bed. your soon-to-be mate strides over to you, his body as bare as yours. the position you’re in makes it so that you’re eye level with his sex. he tilts your head up by your chin, encouraging you to look him in the eyes.
“listen to me very carefully. i do not care who you speak to, who you spend time with, or who you consider a friend. but i do not appreciate what i saw earlier.”
“teyam-“
his free hand moves to hold your neck. not squeezing, simply resting. his voice is a low, dangerous growl, “do not speak until i am finished.” at your nod, he continues. “obviously i have not made it clear enough that you are mine. that is going to change.”
he pushes you back, spreading your legs to crawl between them, kissing his way up your body until his face is even with yours. he kisses you lips softly at first, but it gradually grows in intensity. his tongue forces its way into your mouth, occasionally pulling back only so he can nip at your bottom lip. long fingers slither up your thigh until the reach your sex. two fingers slide over the lips of your cunt, spreading the gathering slick. slowly, he pushes a finger in, grinding the palm of his hand against your clit with every curl of his finger. you moan into his mouth, but whine when he pulls away from your lips. he trails kisses down your jawline to the column of your throat, where he proceeds to suck and bite dark purple marks into your blue skin.
as he continues to mark the skin of your collarbones, a second finger takes its place next to the first. the stretch is more then welcome, your hips bucking up of their own accord. mouth breaking away from sucking the skin of your chest, neteyam mumbles, “by the time i am done with you, you will think of no one but me. nothing except for how you are mine.” it’s almost as if he is speaking his thoughts out loud.
“i am yours nete,” you breathe
his eyes dart to your face, fingers beginning to scissor inside of your cunt, “say that again.”
“i am yours.”
his fingers pick up their pace, thumb moving to rub harsh, quick circles on your clit, “again.”
your breath stutters as your orgasm approaches, “i am yours neteyam.”
his free hand wraps around the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair to pull your face to his. smashing his lips onto yours in a passionate kiss. you moan into his mouth, which he swallows greedily. he pulls away from your lips when he feels the clench of your cunt become more frequent, indicating your orgasm. growling in your ear, “again. again and you can cum.”
“i am yours neteyam. i belong to you.”
he adds his third finger, the stretch pushing you into the arms of euphoria. your vision grows slightly blurry, arching your back into his chest.
“tha’s right. all mine.”
he lets your ride out your high before pulling his fingers out. sucking them into his mouth and licking them clean. without warning, he flips you into your stomach, pulling your hips up to be level with his cock and pushing your back down to force you into a beautiful arch. one side of your face is smushed into the blankets, but the other half is visible to his hungry eyes. he pauses form a moment to admire you, noting the flick of your tail.
but you’re growing impatient. rocking your hips back toward him, “neteyam please.” a deep growl rumbles through his chest. you’re so desperate for him. him. no one else.
he lines his cock up with your dripping pussy, slowly pushing in, inch by inch. leaning over your back, slightly chapped lips nip your ear before growling, “no one else will ever see you like this, touch you like this. do you understand me?”
you nod, but quickly yelp from the hard smack landed on your ass, his hips begin thrusting in and out of your cunt.
“use your words.”
your breath hitches, “yes sir.”
yet another growl crawls up neteyam’s throat. thankfully, your mind was clear enough to register that he liked the title. neteyam increases the pace of his hips. diving to leave more purple marks on the newly available skin. his hips build up to a rapid pace, prompting your eyes to roll into your head. your hand moves to rub your clit, only to be harshly gripped and thrown to the side. callused fingers replace yours, rubbing sloppy circles in the bud. his lips are back at your ear, though his words are slightly more breathy as he snarls, “no. the only one who will ever touch you there is me, remember? keep your hands off my pussy.”
his words make you clench, hard. an array of curses tumble from his mouth at the feeling. “does my pretty girl like when i call her mine?”
“y-es sir.”
he purrs at the title, “good girl. my good girl. only mine.” he begins to ramble as his high approaches, hips losing their rhythm only slightly.
your words are broken up due to the force of his thrusts, “p-lease.” that’s all you can get out, but the way your hips rock to meet his thrusts conveys your message.
he decides to have mercy on you, “does my good girl want to cum?”
“yes si-r, please.” you whine out the words.
“go ahead baby,” he lovingly kisses your cheek, “show me who makes you feel this good. show me who you belong to.”
your second orgasm is stronger than the first, your vision goes completely black for a short moment. the clench of your cunt and sound of your moans bring your soon-to-be mate to his own end, continuing to thrust into you, though much gentler, as every drop of sperm is milked from his cock, eventually slowing to a stop.
neteyam pants as he pulls out of you slowly, taking a momentary pause to admire the way his cum drips out of your pussy. then crawling to lay next to you and pulling your tired form into his arms, giving you an array of soft kisses before resting your head on his chest.
“did i hurt you at all?” he mumbles into your hair.
“no, you made me feel amazing ‘teyam.”
he pecks the top of your head, “good.”
you sit in peaceful silence for a moment before you remember, “my love, please do not be upset with zuay,” neteyam’s grip on your body increases, “he is not interested in me. he was asking for advice about someone else. that is why he was so friendly.”
his grip relaxes a bit, but not entirely, “who was he asking about?”
“kiri.”
“…”
“…’teyam?”
“i do not know if i am relieved or not.”
“kiri likes him a lot. he is very kind. he will be a good match for her if she accepts his affection.”
“…i will still have a talk with him.”
“neteyam no!”
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masterlist
random sentence do readmore glitch won’t fuck with my work :)
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pandoraslxna · 7 months
Note
hello! i’m literally terrible at requesting things lol, but i thought i would ask if you would be doing another part to Stepbrother AU? i absolutely love the way you write neteyam. maybe some sweet and soft smut?
Sweet dreams
adult stepbro Neteyam x female omatikaya reader
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Words: 2.5k
Summary: It’s date night, the marui is quiet and Neteyam has you all to himself.
Warnings: explicit smut, stepcest (= they’re not related by blood), fluff, praise kink, p in v, soft sex, semi-public, biting
Notes: adult Neteyam art was made by @cinetrix 🩵
Translation:
syulang = flower
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It’s date night.
Date night means, his parents will be away for the night. And that means, all responsibilities fall to him.
So Neteyam makes sure everyone’s fed, goes to hunt, skins the yerik with Lo‘ak and let’s Kiri help prepare the meat, while you’re out to give Tuk a much needed bath after playing in the dirt all day.
They all eat together, while mum and dad are out somewhere flying on their ikrans or swimming in a river, spending some much needed time away from their kids, even though half of them are grown already and can take care of themselves. These days, date night is more than a ritual that they decided to keep from the early years of their mating, than a day spent away from the rest of the family. The kids aren’t really kids anymore, they don’t fight like they used to, they don’t ask too many questions that make Jakes hairline thin out and they don’t stick to Neytiri like leeches anymore.
Except for little Tuk of course, because Tuk will most likely forever keep the status of the Sully’s baby, probably even when she has kids on her own.
Lo‘ak has grown too, but he’s still Lo‘ak. Has always been him and will never change the way he is. Unless Tsireya comes over– great mother help him, suddenly he’s someone Neteyam has never seen before and it makes him physically cringe. But who is he to judge and apparently the chiefs daughter seems to be into that 'oh my voice is naturally low and raspy and I definitely don’t deepen it just to impress you' type of thing.
Kiri is, well, she’s never been one to talk much, but since she’s reached the end of her what dad calls puberty and mother calls "a test to her mental strength" her head seems to be even more up in the clouds than it was before.
Neteyam himself has long reached that age where he would like to experience these domestic moments with his own little family, living in his own marui. But he can’t seem to peel himself away from here, from home. Not when everything he yearns for is right here.
Which brings us to you.
His pretty little syulang, the flower of his life, that grew roots so deep in his heart that they took up all the space and left no room for anything or anyone else, since the day his parents had decided to take you in.
Admittedly, it took Neteyam longer than he thought it would, to realize that the way he looked at you was different from the way he looked at his other siblings. He’s always been protective by nature, takes care of those who are dear to him. But not once had he felt the same kind of jealousy when Spider or Rotxo or whoever talked to his sister Kiri, than when boys came to talk to you. When it came to you, things were different.
Neteyam himself had started fooling around with girls his age relatively young. Kissing and touching, before he turned eighteen and realized how easy it is to get them on their hands and knees just for being the next olo’eyktan.
But when you came along, things took a sharp turn. Suddenly, those girls made him feel icky. Suddenly, he had never wanted to touch anybody as much as he wanted to touch you. But he knew that such a thing was out of the question, though, so he never tried to act upon his forbidden desires.
It was you, surprisingly, who came to him first. Crossing all lines of what Neteyam thought was considered right or wrong, just for you to confess a love that goes beyond what step siblings should feel for each other.
Anyways.
Date night means, all responsibilities fall to him. And while it’s usually dad that has trouble sleeping, that stays up until eywa know when, sitting in the space that’s reserved for crafting and such things to clean his assault rifle, it’s Neteyam who sits in this place tonight. Like being away for a night ultimately means that not being able to sleep is now his burden too.
Neteyam doesn’t know the reason to his. His stomach is full and he’s happy and content, should probably sleep like a baby. But he just can’t bring himself to rest.
He hears Lo’aks snoring pick up in the other room, and it makes him chuckle lightheartedly. He‘ll keep Tsireya in his prayers, once the two of them have finally mated and will share their own marui. Eywa help her find some sleep, once this snoring palulukan lays under her roof.
Neteyam smiles to himself. His fingers slowly grow tired as they move a woven thread back and forth, then through a pearl, tying a knot and repeat. At least some part of him feels the need to rest.
While his parents date night generally means that there will be more duties than usual in his daily routine, it also means that there is no one up in the middle of the night or in the early morning hours, giving him time and peace to be lost in his thoughts. And those thoughts roam around a certain someone, more than usual even.
Because date night also means, spending time with his precious syulang is now less risky than it is on any other day or any other night.
Quietly, Neteyam tips his head back to glance into the other room. He can vaguely make out your sleeping silhouette in the dark, laying in your hammock. Like a magnet to metal, he feels himself drawn to you, so he allows his body to move without his brain having much say in this.
Everyone‘s asleep and his parents aren’t there and it just feels good to act upon his desires without double questioning everything, wondering what fleeting touches he could allow himself without being looked at weird or having to find excuses to go to the forest together for at least some alone time.
The hammock dips, and then a warm body settles to lay behind you, curling around your smaller frame like you’re two fitting pieces of the same puzzle.
A soft sigh leaves your parted lips and Neteyam can’t help but press a kiss to the nape of your neck. His breath tickles your skin, and then you stir awake with a yawn.
"Teyam?", you murmur sleepily, glancing over your shoulder to be met with two half lidded, golden orbs staring back at you.
"M‘sorry, syulang", he whispers against the shell of your ear before pressing another kiss to your cheek. "Didn’t mean to wake you."
You mumble something incoherent that he can’t quite pick up, but then you’re stretching and your tail instinctively curls around his, and Neteyam knows you probably didn’t mean to– but your back arches into him, ass pressing against his crotch, and suddenly you’re not the one only stirring awake.
"Hmm, but since you’re already up, we could…", the words are muffled into the crook of your neck, followed by more, open mouthed kisses against your skin.
"Teyam", you giggle quietly, squirming when he nips at the lobe of your ear, "stop it."
Instead of listening, his arms close tighter around your middle, pulling your back closer to his chest. His hands skim over the bare skin of your stomach, over your thighs, your waist.
"You’re so warm", he mumbles, with both of his hands now sandwiched between your soft thighs. It makes you dizzy, the way he presses himself against you, how his hands can’t seem to stay still for even a second, roaming your body to caress and squeeze and grab whatever they can reach. Your breath hitches in your throat once you feel his fingertips brush the outline of your loincloth, following the cords between your thighs, hands cupping your cunt.
"T-The others", you finally find your voice again. Swallowing thickly, you whisper, "Lo’ak and Kiri, they will–"
But Neteyam is quick to cut you off, "The others are sleeping…" Another open mouthed kiss to your throat, tongue licking along your pulse point. "And I missed you. A lot."
It doesn’t seem like he was leaving you much room to argue, especially not, because his hands then dip past the waistband of your loincloth.
"I was with you the whole day", a smile pulls at your lips, eyes fluttering closed as you let yourself enjoy the feeling of his teasing fingers.
"Hmh, and I still missed my baby sister", he hums, "Missed kissing you… touching you…"
A gasp tumbles from your parted lips when one of his digits slides into you with ease, curling up where he knows it feels best for you.
"Always so wet for me", Neteyam whispers, "My perfect girl."
His breath is hot and damp against the skin of your neck, and he nudges his now fully hard cock against the small of your back and waits for the sign that tells him you feel the same want he does.
Neteyam can’t help but nuzzle up against the crook of your neck again, trace the edge of your ear with nose and lips, because he can never get enough of the way that sends a shiver through your body. Through his own body too, and then he presses the smallest, quietest kisses to your ear until you shivers again.
Neteyam is so close to you, that he can sense and know he caused the tremble in your limbs and breath.
Those small, trembling movements are what does it for him, the way you nudge your sleep-warm body against him, the arch of your back against his chest and crotch, the scrabble of delicate fingers as they fumble against his arm, looking for purchase, the brush of your soft hair against his cheek and the taste of your skin at the flick of his tongue against your throat, neck and shoulder.
"Teyaaam", you whine quietly, two of his slick fingers now scissoring you open and you writhe and squirm, pushing back harder against his cock in need.
This time, the shiver runs through him first and you gasp once, the sound quiet and sharp.
Neteyam knows that sound. Knows that means he could fit your bodies together even better, press himself inside you now. So naturally, that’s what he does.
It’s a clumsy mess of tangled limps, soft giggles and fleeting kisses before he manages to wriggle you and then himself free from any clothes. He keeps you flush against him, back pressed against his chest, angles your leg up and holds you open with a hand to the backside of your knee.
Neteyam slides into you easily. The stretch is familiar, good and pleasant, and you moan once he’s filled you entirely.
"Shh, I know", he coos softly, "but you have to be quiet for me, yes? Don’t want to wake the others, don’t you?"
You nod, then his hips move almost on instinct, back and then pushing forwards, thrusting into you. It’s slow and languid, with muffled groans pressed against your skin.
Neteyam wants it to last. Wants to stay like this forever, soft touches and warmth and the fond familiarity of your skin under his fingertips. But he can't resist that voice. Can't resist that desperate, pleading tone.
"P-Please Neteyam", you whimper softly, pushing back against him, "more, please. More, I want to come!"
He pushes forward, just that little bit harder, then shifts to clamp a hand over your mouth, shushing you when you’re unable to contain those little noises of pleasure.
"You feel so good, syulang, so good."
The slow drag of his shaft against your warm, wet and velvety-like walls makes Neteyams tail curl in enjoyment, and his eyes flutter close as he lets himself drown in the feeling of you. His teeth are clenched shut, biting down on his lower lip, because he was just as close to moaning out loud as you were.
But then you’re clamping down, hard, when his tip nudges against that special spot inside you and– just a little faster, his thrusts become just a tad harder, deeper.
There’s drool covering the inside of his hand, where he’s trying to keep your mouth shut, tongue lapping at his palm so he switches position, sticks two of his fingers into your mouth instead for you to suck on.
You’re so wet around him, wet around his fingers too now, sucking as eager as you would on his cock and the low groan that bubbles up his throat is almost too loud. Almost.
But Neteyam catches his breath quickly, busying his mouth with your throat instead, sucking and kissing and biting, never hard enough to leave any marks, but enough to keep himself from making too much noise.
Meanwhile your tongue swirls around his digits and he pushes them further in whenever he slides his cock out of you, then out when he thrusts forwards. It’s a constant rhythm, leaving you moaning around his fingers and squeezing around his cock.
Slow and steady, he repeats the words like a mantra, trying to calm himself. But his thrusts become deeper, harder as well. They knock the breath out of your lungs, little whimpers reaching his ears, until Neteyam has to cover you mouth again with a warning grunt.
All it would take was for Lo‘ak to wake and get water, and then he would hear the obvious, he would hear the faint squelching noises coming from the other room, would hear your little whimpers and pleas.
Neteyam wanted this to last, he really did. But the thrill of getting caught was a dangerous mix to the absolute heavenly feeling of your pussy convulsing around his length as you came. The soft squeak that you gave, the way that your legs trembled and your eyes rolled back, it was all that was needed to push him over the edge.
"Fuck, fuck, syulang, baby. I‘m– I‘m gonna come", he forces out, as quietly as possible. The hand over your mouth clamped down harder, like a warning before he started to thrust into you faster, barely able to contain himself anymore.
Just a few especially deep strokes were needed, and Neteyam felt his body and every last nerve in it fill with pleasure, before he came with a grunt, biting his tongue and pressing his face into the crook of your neck.
Taking his time, Neteyam lets his body come down slowly. He’s still pressing himself into you gently, continues to move a little, thrusting, and enjoys the slippery sensations this engenders. Traces kisses over your skin and tastes salt and sweetness on his tongue while he listens to the way your breathing slowly evens out.
A tender, "I love you", is whispered against the shell of your ear. Your response comes a little slurred, voice laced with sleep and barely incoherent, but it doesn’t really matter to him. There’s a smile on your lips as you fall back asleep, satisfied and content.
And finally, sleep tugs on his tired eyelids.
Neteyam suspects, as he drifts of to sleep, that in an hour or so, for the second time that day, he'll be the first to wake. He’ll have to get up and move to his own hammock, fall back asleep there, or not. And he’ll miss you again, from afar. Until date night comes around again.
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eddywoww · 4 months
Text
I know literally all soulmate mark fics have been done (tw: scarification and abuse)
But I’m imagining one where Steve has a mark and it’s fucking huge on his forearm. It says “Are you okay?” And his mom absolutely hates it. She glares at it when it pops up when he’s only eight years old and she won’t stop talking about it, won’t let it go.
She wants it gone.
So she pays to have it lazered off. Steve hates the process, cries before and during and after because he’s only a little boy and it hurts so badly.
But it doesn’t work. The phrase only pops up somewhere new. On his ankle. It’s a little smaller but it’s the same phrase. He tries to hide it this time but it’s no use, his mom spots it at a clothes fitting. Being rich meant that he had little to no privacy growing up.
She takes him to a different place this time and the process is even worse and Steve wishes they’d get better at it. Soulmarks aren’t like tattoos. The process is much more painful even than that. And poor Steve doesn’t get why he can’t have it, why his mom doesn’t want him to have it.
He would figure out later that she only wanted to control everything aspect of his life. The next time it pops up, she gets more egregious. Wants it to be cut out of his skin. Steve sobs the night before, knows it’ll scar so much worse on the meat of his bicep. He hates it, hates that she won’t let him have this and he just doesn’t understand. He keeps hoping it’ll show up somewhere she won’t find it.
After many failed tries, it finally does.
Steve almost doesn’t believe it when he finds the phrase, as tiny as possible, on the sole of his foot. He hides it. He wears socks, he tries his best to make sure his mom never sees it. He spends his teenage years trying harder and harder to get away from her. Stealing and saving money, making sure she can’t keep him locked away anymore.
Steve runs away eventually. Ends up going to college and buying goodwill furniture and getting a part time job and-
But it’s rough because he’s always been sort of shut in. A pretty ornament for his mom to show off at parties and galas. He didn’t spend much time around other kids. So school makes him nervous. Anxious to a startling degree.
It happens on a normal Tuesday. He’s in the campus lunchroom, a tray in hand. It’s shaking, his drink nearly spilling as he tries to make his way through the moving mass of students. It’s too much, all his senses firing at one hundred or more.
And then it happens. He almost drops the tray as someone bumps into him, only to grab Steve by the elbows, turning big brown eyes and curly hair toward him. A boy. A very attractive, apologetic looking boy.
Steve was mesmerized before he even opened his mouth.
“Are you okay?” The boy asks in shock. “I didn’t mean to almost knock you down, man. That’s my bad.”
Steve stares at him like he’s just seen the sun for the first time.
“I like your hair,” He says, because he can’t think of anything else to say and he really does.
Eddie Munson nearly drops him a second time. Just behind his ear, he too wears a phrase. Unscarred and unmarked. He has no problem showing it to Steve right there in their busy campus lunchroom.
“I like your hair.”
Eddie might be without Steve’s scars but he has some of his own. A life well lived, not very far from Steve. They don’t lament over lost time. After all, it was meant to be.
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spdrwdw · 20 days
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hi! I saw ur post abt accidentally deleting reqs and was scared since mine wasn’t answered yet (im not complaining bc ur other work is so so delicious to read 😍) anyways here it is. Ok imagine Miguel ohara being the heir to the mafia ‘throne(?)’ ima be so fr idk what they call it 💀 anyways and he’s in an arranged marriage w/ a girl from a diff mafia family as a way to make peace between the two families, except neither he or the girl are happy abt it. Enemies to lovers would just be majestic for the plot in my opinion 🤭. Anywaysssss thank u sm and remember to drink water 🫶🏻
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Art by: Kimmy_art0912 Pairing: Mob Boss Miguel x Wife reader Warnings: Mentions of blood, very mild violence, no use of y/n Summary: You and Miguel come from different mafia families, forced to be married in order to form an alliance as threat from an outside. However, you and Miguel can only tolerate each other, at best. A/N: I swear I scratched and rewrote this like five different times.I am sorry it took so long. I am slowly making my way back into writing. I do thank anon and everyone else for their patience as I slowly make my way back to life and I will be writing more Miguel fics soon. I may do a part two to this, depending on interest recieved. I have been getting into mafia books so I am going to be looking into those for inspo if I do make more parts to this. Also, very very light editing was done. Word Count: 4.6k
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Your family and the O’Hara’s have been enemies since your ancestors set foot into this country. Both immigrating from nothing but the clothes on their backs and pennies to their name. 
Your family started working in the food industry. Working in restaurants, bakeries, etc. Anything that had to do with food. Seven days a week. Working from twelve to fourteen hour shifts just to make ends meet. Your great great grandfather worked at the local deli as well as a restaurant. When he wasn’t cutting up meat, he was in the kitchen making food. Your great great grandmother worked at the neighborhood bakery as well as the tailors. Her dream was to make clothes- dresses. She wanted to be a fashion designer. She started taking classes at the local college once they saved up enough money to invest in her studies. 
Eventually, with their hard work and sacrifices, their dreams came true. Your family soon owned several restaurants as well as luxury boutiques. Everyone did their part in keeping the family businesses growing and going. 
At first, it was all simply honest work. Your family stayed humble and grateful for their dedication. Then, with your great grandfather, things took a slight turn. He wanted to expand and turn into construction. Nueva York continued to go and grow, with more people coming to try to make a living and a name for themselves. And in that mix, people with bad intentions also tagged along. The family businesses were in jeopardy of being taken over or shut down completely by these power-hungry thugs. He did not want that. So, he and the rest of the family banded together and began hiring people who would be willing to work for them and protect them, whether they were military vets, criminals, or even cops. Anyone who was willing to protect the family. 
Allyship with other mafia families also aided in the growth and protection. However, there was one family that yours always butted heads with. 
The O’Haras. They immigrated from Ireland around the same time your great great grandparents did. They built their own businesses, casinos, hotels, and clubs- and wanted their own power and a spot with the elites of the criminal world. 
At first, things were neutral between the two families. At one point, the two families were almost allies. However, one night, there was commotion going on at one of the O’Hara nightclubs. Members of your family got into a tussle with the O’Hara group and ended up being a blood bath, with both sides losing men. 
Ever since then, things were tense, and the bloodshed continued to grow as oppositions rose. 
No one really knew what it was that started the feud that night. Some suspected it had been over a woman. Others thought it was simply because some members were drunk and careless words were exchanged.
Either way, the rivalry continued on. Until a new threat entered the city. And there was no choice but to come together. 
It’s been six months since you moved into his house. Six months since you lost your freedom. Six months since you got married. To Miguel O’Hara. 
It all happened in an instant. First, you were out abroad, having recently gotten your first major job as a fashion designer in a luxury clothing company, wanting to be as successful as your great great grandmother, and now you were out on a little vacation to celebrate, when you received a call from your father, ordering you to come back home. 
You should’ve relished that Mediterranean breeze as long as you could, because once you got on that flight back home, your world was about to be flipped on its head. 
“I’m sorry…WHAT?!” You screeched at your father, you only looked at you with his calm, cool, distant, expression as he inhaled into his cigar.
“You’re getting married to Miguel O’Hara,” he repeated. 
“I heard what you said! But, why?!”
“The O’Haras had agreed to a truce. Kingpin is gaining on both of our families. We are losing men and traction left and right. We agreed by aligning our families together, we will gain strength in numbers and influence.”
“And you are shipping me off into an arranged marriage! This isn’t the medieval age or whatever! 
Plus, with Miguel?! At least have me marry Gabriel. He’s not an asshole like his brother.”
“Miguel is to become head of the O’Hara family as he is the first born. Plus, his determination has been promising.”
You let out a groan. You could not believe this was happening. You never wanted to get sucked into this life. That’s why you went off to college. To try to get away and make a life of your own. Your efforts were proven to be futile as you felt the rug be pulled from under you and you were being dragged along with it to the same life you were trying to escape. 
Your father’s eyes softened. A hint of sorrow filled them. 
“I know, sweetheart. This isn’t what I was hoping for you, either. But, it is the only way. We are running out of options. I am sure Miguel will take care of you, and you will be able to fulfill your dream of following your great great grandmother’s footsteps. I am sure she would be proud to have someone actively expanding her fashion legacy..”
You still shook your head. It was just too much for you to take in. Plus, wasn’t Miguel in a relationship with someone? Xina? No..they broke up months ago. That’s right. But, wait..he was seeing someone else? Ugh. The guy has a new girlfriend every other day.
Besides, you two did have a thing going on in the past. It wasn’t serious. Mainly the occasional hookups. You two were of rivaling families, after all. You both did have your reasons for disliking each other. So, the sex was pretty much hate sex? If that made sense. It wasn’t out of passion. Unless you could call hatred a passion.
Never did you think you’d actually be getting married to him. 
After the news broke out that you and Miguel were to be wedded, everything went by in such a blur. Preparations for the wedding. The actual wedding. The honeymoon- which was hardly a honeymoon because neither of you actually spent any time together. It was just too awkward, and you knew that he wasn’t happy with this arrangement as much as you were. 
When you first moved into his house, you wanted to sleep in a separate room from him, and he agreed. However, when both of your parents found out about this, they were all livid. 
“How will you two get to know each other more and become intimate with each other if you are sleeping in separate beds?” Your mom cried one day when she came to visit you. You assured her there would be other situations where you and your husband would bond. Public situations where you’d be surrounded by other people and talking to those people rather than each other. 
You two simply avoided each other as much as possible. And during the times when you two were together, your company was either met with silence or bickering. And sometimes even being at each other’s throats. 
He would call you names like ‘immature’ ‘wild’ ‘rowdy’ and so on, simply because you refused to listen to him whenever he demanded something from you. 
You’d retaliate and tell him that he was controlling and a perfectionist. Because well, he was. He had to have things done a certain way or it would ensue chaos. And while he was right about you being a little more rowdy and wild, it was simply because you had the luxury of growing somewhat more normal. Your parents did not drill the life of the mafia into your head the same way it was drilled into Miguel’s. Which is why you both clashed when trying to communicate with each other. 
Right now, you were at home in the library. You spend a lot of time there, and while Miguel’s taste in reading wasn’t usually to your taste, you’d sometimes find yourself reading some of the novels that he was currently reading, as well as reading some that you’ve been purchasing and adding to the collection. 
Which reminded you, you had to head over to the mall and purchase the next book of a spicy romance series you’d been reading. As well as look for an outfit to wear at the next charity event you and Miguel would be attending. 
One of the few things you liked about Miguel was that he was very generous and active in the community, helping those less fortunate.
Placing the book down, you rubbed your bag and keys and decided to head out for a bit. Saying goodbye to the house staff as you walked past them, you made your way to the garage, which housed Miguel’s collection of cars, ranging from vintage to sporty and modern to big black suvs that you’d use whenever a bodyguard was transporting you somewhere, like parties. You never understood why someone needed so many cars but, whatever, as long as it wasn’t your money being spent. 
You made your way over to your car, glad that you were able to bring it with you when you got married. It was your baby. One of the few things you were able to bring with you. 
Glancing over at the clock on the dashboard, you bit your bottom lip. You should have enough time to purchase some books before heading off to your parents for a bit. You did promise them you would show up. They were planning lunch for you. It was your birthday today, after all. 
Miguel stood in front of the battered man that kneeled before him, hearing the groaning of pain coming from their mouth as blood pooled around the cement floor. 
Miguel’s knuckles were bleeding. But, it wasn’t his own blood, but the blood of the poor bastard that withered before him. Miguel didn’t like to use violence. He thought it was a primitive way of negotiating with his enemies. However, there were times when a little violence was necessary to get his point across. And to send a message. 
Why was this man being battered like a sack of potatoes? 
The man spat blood, a tooth or two flying out with the glob of blood as he remained strapped to his chair. His face was covered in blood. Beat up and mangled by the hands of the tall, brooding man before him. 
Miguel slowly knelt down before the man, taking a fistful of his hair, forcing him to look up into his almost amber eyes. 
“ Eres un demonio! (You're a demon). Not even the devil himself will want you!” the man spat, a glob of blood landing on Miguel’s cheek.
Miguel let out a hum of disinterest. His eyes lacked any life in them. However, this was when he felt the most alive, seeing his enemies cowering and crumbling before him. 
He took out a handkerchief from his breast pocket and cleaned the blood from his cheek before tossing the now soiled material at the man’s feet. 
“I take that as a compliment, you know. Maybe I want the devil himself to fear me.”
Miguel took out a cigar from his coat pocket and lit it before giving it a deep inhale and exhaled a heavy cloud of smoke at the man’s face. He couldn't believe that one of Kingpin's goons had infiltrated his circle and posed himself as someone who could've been trusted. Miguel was definitely going to send that fat son of a bitch a message, by killing this guy and sending his corpse back to Kingpin's front door. 
Not only that, but it also meant that they were going to have to redo background checks on everyone working for the O’Haras. That was going to be a pain in the ass.
"Gabriel! Hand me my gun," Miguel called out to his brother.
Gabriel, Peter, and Ben were all standing several feet behind Miguel, all watching as their boss beat and battered the man before them. 
Gabriel was Miguel’s right hand now that their father had stepped down as head of the O’Hara family. Many thought Gabriel was going to take charge, however, Miguel was much more brutal and cut-throat than Gabriel. It made sense for Miguel to take up the mantle, despite him being an illegitimate son. 
Plus, Gabriel preferred being on the sidelines instead of making the decisions. 
Gabriel made his way over to his older brother, handing him the gun before stepping back to his original spot. 
“Now. We can do this the easy way. Where I ask you a couple of questions and answer them. Or, we can do this the hard way, when I ask you said questions and if you refuse to answer them, I get to shoot you anywhere I want.”
”I would rather you just shoot me! I will never answer to you!” The man croaked. 
“You never got shot before, have you?” Miguel hummed as he removed the safety from the gun and cocked it before pulling the trigger, shooting the man on the foot. 
The man let out a screeching howl as he thrashed on the chair, letting out a series of curses. 
Miguel simply nodded his head. “That’s what I thought. So..shall we begin?”
The whole ordeal took only a matter of minutes, as Miguel wasted no time in trying to get his questions answered. The man was not sitting lifeless on the chair as bullet holes decorated his body. 
Kingpin had sent a lower ranked grunt to spy on them, trying to scope up any valuable information to report back to his true boss. Unfortunately for Kingpin, those in the lower ranks didn’t really get to be part of the action and behind-closed door discussions, so, this man’s life was unnecessarily wasted. 
“Send his body back to Kingpin. Just leave him on his doorstep,” Miguel said as he examined his suit, letting out a grunt when he saw small splatters of blood. He was going to have to go home and change. “Will do. You should start heading back home. I am sure you wife is waiting for you,” Gabriel said as Peter and Ben began placing the body into a black body bag and carried him out to the waiting pick-up truck. 
Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t hate you, but he knew that you hated him. And you had every right. You got married to him out of force, and while that wasn’t necessarily his fault, he didn’t blame you for holding a grudge on him. 
“Keep me posted on any activity. I need updated background checks on everyone working for us. We can’t let anyone else slip through the cracks,” Miguel stated as he made his way over to his car, with his brother following behind him. Gabriel nodded his head as he watched his brother leave. 
He had to make sure no on in his inner circle was actually working for Kingpin. Is someone indeed was, might as well just shut everything down then and there. 
No. Miguel wouldn’t give up just like that. He would just have to work harder and steer Kingpin off track. 
But, for the time being, his main goal was to get back home and get to his wife. It was your birthday, after all.
You spent the majority of the day with your parents. You had gone over to your former home- which you still miss deeply. It was such a stark contrast from where you lived now. There was just so much character, so much history in this house. It was the same house your great great grandfather had bought as a gift to his lovely wife, your great great grandmother, once their businesses were booming.
It had twelve bedrooms and sixteen bathrooms. A library where your mother would take you to read. When you were young, you’d pick out a book for your mother to read to you in bed. Mainly a fairy tale story. 
You always thought your life would be a fairy tale. You always imagined yourself as the princess or heroine, going on adventures and falling in love. However, the universe was not like those in the stories. Maybe in an alternate universe. But, not in this one. 
Instead, you were forced to marry the enemy in hopes of forming an alliance. Which, depending on how you looked at it, could’ve been seen as a fairytale. It didn’t feel like it. You weren’t in love with Miguel. You tolerated each other at best. Plus, you guys had shared history which made things pretty awkward at times. 
—-
You were back home, waiting for your darling husband to come home and wish you a Happy Birthday. He also supposedly promised to take you out to dinner. It was really an attempt for you two to get somewhat closer together. But, you weren’t sure how well that would play out. You both liked to push each other’s buttons. You were sure it would occur tonight. And honestly, you wouldn’t want to have it any other way. You wanted to be a thorn on his side. He was always so full of himself. Always thought himself to be this bigshot. Untouchable. Unweavered. You loved proving him wrong. 
You continued to wait and wait. The house staff had left for the night, including Miss Cheryl, your personally favorite housekeeper. She was an older woman, possibly in her mid-fifties. You never cared to ask her- mainly because you didn’t want to be rude and you actually liked her. 
Looking up at the clock in Miguel’s office, you saw that it was already seven thirty in the evening. Reservations were supposedly made for eight. Miguel had thirty minutes to get there. 
A part of you didn’t really care if he had forgotten or just waved it off. You didn’t want to force yourself to be nice with him, because who knew, you might just throw a glass of wine at him just as you did during your wedding reception.
You could hear a chime coming from the Alexa that rested on Miguel’s desk, signaling that someone had entered the house. 
Finally. You honestly thought he wasn’t going to come. 
Raising from his chair, you decided to go ahead and greet your husband. 
He was making his way upstairs as you made your way down the hallway, both of you making eye contact. 
“You’re late. I thought you weren’t going to come,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. 
As Miguel stepped closer, you could notice blood splattered on his white shirt. 
“I know. Let me get changed real quick,” he replied as he walked past you. 
You knew Miguel had a way of dealing with those who wronged him. You have seen his blood-stained knuckles, bloodied shirts and a dangerous look in his eyes. It’s pretty much like in the movies. Some poor unlucky soul gets tortured to death by the boss or someone higher up. You’d like to think that Miguel isn’t simply killing people just because of blood-lust. While it wasn’t your business to judge, you didn’t want to be married to someone who is a little too eager to get blood on his hands. 
You made your way to his room, standing by the door as you watched Miguel slip on a fresh pair of pants and button-up shirt, something more suitable for dinner. Once he was finished, he took another look at you, furrowing his brows a bit. 
“What?” You questioned. 
“What are you wearing?” 
“What do you mean ‘what are you wearing’?” You asked, looking down at your dress. 
“Don’t you think that’s too revealing?” He asked. 
“What? Revealing? Where? Don’t tell me showing a little leg and shoulder is prohibited. Come on! This is the height of fashion right now, as well as demonstrating body positivity.” Miguel simply gave you a look as if in disgust. Not for the body positivity part. But rather your fashion choices. He was aware of your family’s success in the fashion industry. He even applauded it. But, he was also a  man with much simpler tastes. Tastes that you would sometimes groan over. 
“Well, I’m not changing, so let’s just get going,” you said as you grabbed a shawl to compliment your dress, and to shut Miguel up. 
The ride to the restaurant was quiet, save for the music that was playing on the radio. You two had very different music tastes. Not surprising. Sometimes you’d change the station or hook up your phone to Bluetooth. But, you tried to sit back and let him listen to his music this time. 
When you two managed to get there, Miguel stopped in front of the valet and got out. The valet driver in-waiting opened the car door for you to help you get out as Miguel rounded the car, handing the keys over to the young man who then took the sleek black suv to the parking garage. 
He gave you his arm to take. It had become routine. Show some sort of display of affection while in public. You never knew who could be watching. Sometimes cameras would pop out in front of you two. 
The proposal was rushed. The engagement. The wedding. People grew suspicious, and rightfully so. Your families quickly came up with a story of how you and Miguel were seeing each other in secret despite the rivalry of the families. The alleged secrecy of romance and hurried marriage gave you two the the title of Romeo and Juliet. Two star-crossed lovers who went against all odds just to be together despite your families and their differences. But, unlike the story, your ending didn’t result in a double-suicide, but rather acceptance, wedding bells, and peace between the two families. Everyone bought it. Well..almost everyone. 
As you two made your way inside and were greeted by the hostess, you were taken to a more secluded area of the restaurant. There, the table had been set up especially for you. A bottle of wine rested over a bed of ice, candles were lit on the table, as well as around the perimeter of your area. It would have been romantic, had you actually had romantic feelings for Miguel.
Still, he was a gentleman and he did go out of his way to reserve a nice place for you.
 He pulled a chair out for you to sit and scooted you in before taking his seat across from you. The music from a live pianist in the main dining hall still reached your private area. Had it not been for them, the room would’ve been dead silent as you and Miguel silently looked through your menus. 
“Can I pour you a glass of your wine?” A waitress asked onceshe approached your table. She was young. Tall and thin with big blue eyes and blonde hair tied up in a ponytail. And wearing way too much makeup. At least for your tastes. 
You could see how she was looking at Miguel, batting her fake eyelashes. You thought they were either going to fall off or send her flying away. Either way, you simply rolled your eyes. You didn’t care if Miguel got hit on, but come on, at least not while you were right there to see. 
“Yes, thank you,” Miguel said, giving her a charming smile. It made you roll our eyes again. Yes, he was being polite and all, but you could see right through him. 
“Can I offer you both an appetizer to start?” She then asked, still looking over at Miguel. 
Miguel then looked over to you, giving you a nod. “Would you like something to start with?”
”Yes, actually. Some bread for the table. they usually bring it out at the beginning,” you started. Which was true. You were just trying to be a little petty. 
“And how about some crab cakes and a salad for the table?”
The waitress nodded her head, her smile now a straight line. So straight, you could swipe your card through it like a card reader. 
“Yes, of course. I will put those in for you and bring you your bread,” she said before leaving the table. 
You simply rolled your eyes once again as you settled back against your seat. 
“How was lunch with your family?” Miguel then asked, trying to make conversation. 
“It was fine,” you responded. Usually, your responses would be short, and Miguel wouldn’t entertain the topic further. You knew you should at least try to get along with him, giving that you are married and that you will be spending the rest of your life with him. You simply assumed that it just hadn’t kicked in yet. You were going to try, though. 
One day.
“Ah, Mr. O’Hara! Mrs. O’Hara! A pleasure to see you two here tonight!” Someone behind you exclaimed. You could hear their heavy footsteps before turning around and seeing the owner and head chef of the restaurant. “Javier. A pleasure to see you,” Miguel said. “We were just celebrating my wife’s birthday.” “Ah! Of course! Happy birthday, Mrs. O’Hara. You look as stunning as ever,” Javier exclaimed. The man was five foot three, a mix of tan to sunburned skin, and all round. He kind of reminded you of the Pillsbury mascot. He looked so squishable and jolly. 
“Actually, Javier. Would you mind me having a word with you, real quick?” Miguel then asked, scooted his chair back from the table and stood, easily towering over the man. 
“O-oh! O-of cours! Of course! Come, come! Let’s step to the side,” Javier stated, now looking a little nervous as he led Miguel out of the room, leaving you alone. 
All while Miguel was having his private conversation with Javier, the waitress came back with the bread and appetizers. 
“We are going to need a couple of minutes,” you stated as she placed everything onto the tables. 
“Of course! I’ll make my way back around in a few minutes,” the waitress said, giving you a tight-lipped smile.  
You tried your best to not roll your eyes at her again as she left. Letting out a sigh, you decided to dig into the bread and appetizers. You sure weren’t going to wait for Miguel to come back to start eating. You never waited for him. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you knew you’d be waiting forever for him. 
Soon enough, you were back home. You were still slightly curious about the conversation Miguel had with Chef Javier. But, you didn’t think you should press Miguel about it. Some things were meant to be kept in private. Besides, you wanted no part of this whole mafia stuff. It had stolen so much of your freedom already. You wanted to remain ignorant of what goes on behind closed doors as much as possible. 
You both made your way upstairs, neither of you speaking as you made your way to your rooms for the night. 
Tomorrow you were planning on heading over to the boutique. Your cousin was currently operating it and sometimes you’d go to help her out. It helped you get out of the house every once in a while. Plus, you were usually filled with inspiration when you were surrounded by your family’s clothing. You were still working on your portfolio to give out to various companies, in hopes they would hire you. 
You were confident that they would. You were talented. Plus, you have your family’s name to back you up. Now, all you had to do was to make sure you get a good night’s rest so you could get up refreshed. 
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luvrgrlellie · 7 months
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casual dominance with ellie williams
i’ve seen posts like this before on here so credit to whoever started this trend!!
warnings: smuttish at the end
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a big yet subtle way that ellie is casually dominant with you is with how protective she is of you in public. for instance…
if you’re out at a packed bar together, you’re always positioned so that your back is against the bar and ellie’s is facing the crowd to protect you from drunk (& gropey) strangers. also always making sure that she doesn’t go too crazy with the alcohol or za and stays under control so that she’s sober enough to take care of you.
she’s always walking slightly behind you or by your side so that she can keep her eyes on you at all times
never EVER let’s her girl pump her own gas, buy her own weed, go get cash out at an ATM etc. anything that might put you in danger, she’d rather just do for you if she’s around. it’s not that she doesn’t allow you to do things on your own, but keeping you safe is her top priority and she doesn’t see it as a hassle at all to run some errands for you
in a crowd, your hand is in hers at all times, your other is preferably holding her bicep so that she can keep you close to her
hand on the small of your back is a signature ellie move. not over the top PDA but enough to signal to anyone watching not to fuck with you or they’ll have to get through her.
now this brings us into more possessiveness territory rather than protectiveness, which is another big part of ellie’s casual dominance over you
if she catches a guy staring at you for too long, she’s never afraid to meet his eye and hold uncomfortable eye contact until he looks away. she just hates the idea of men undressing you with their eyes - it drives her fucking crazy. the way they look at you like a piece of meat makes her have some very violent thoughts.
and if she catches anyone trying to make moves on her girl she’d simply wrap an arm around your waist and pull you into her chest so that your back is against her front. that way she can have her hands on you and keep an eye out while still letting you socialize and have fun
i feel like ellie is NOT the type to ever admit she’s jealous, but she definitely will be hella obvious about it through her actions
if you’re out and you’re having a conversation with someone she suspects wants you (which frankly is everyone to her because she doesn’t see how someone couldn’t be attracted to everything about you) she’d make a point to come over real quick and touch you in some small intimate way to make it clear you’re with her. she doesn’t wanna interrupt you or make you think that she doesn’t trust you because she does, she just doesn’t trust other people. so she’d just come by and give you a quick kiss on the cheek, or she’ll pass behind you and rub her hands up and down your arms real quick and even the smallest gesture gives you butterflies every time.
and if god forbid someone actually puts their hands on you, mmmmmm she is not happy. not happy at all. she doesn’t care if you hug and kiss your friends on the cheek to greet them obviously, she’s not a psycho control freak, but you’re super touchy feely when you’re drunk and she really hates watching you all over other people once you’re a few shots in. all of it is completely innocent and platonic and of course she knows that but it still bothers her for sure. she wouldn’t necessarily get mad at you or your friends, just annoyed in general.
and she’d definitely make sure you knew that when you two got home … safe to say no one in the entire neighborhood would be wondering who’s fucking you every night.
“who’s the only one that can fuck you this good, huh?” “fuck ellie YOU, only you” “yeah that’s what I thought”
“this is mine, yeah? no one else gets to touch you like this.”
“mine” kiss on one titty “mine” kiss on the other “mine” hand on your pussy “okay???”
if that night you’d been extra touchy with your friends on purpose to get a reaction out of her, it would be blatantly obvious to ellie and she would make sure you knew that later too
“god such a fucking slut just throwing yourself at everybody. are you not embarrassed??”
i want jealous ellie to take her anger out on me :,(((
xoxo,
a ;)
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shoulmate · 8 months
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"You know this is a weird place to do your work, right?"
"This is the perfect place to get work done," you argue staring at your book as your friend plops down into the seat next to you.
"Uh...the dorm lobby? Seriously? It's like all the cons of the common room and the library in here. Hello?" She snaps her fingers at you when you don't look up. "Are you even listening? There's no way you can be this focused."
"I'm studying," you mutter dismissively and low as your eyes reflexively flick up to the clock on the lobby wall then back to your book then to the glass doors.
She snorts, dismissive. "Yeah. And I'm Michelangelo reincarnated."
"The... Philosopher?" you reply half-heartedly, too focused on glancing at the faces walking into the lobby over the top of your book.
"No, the teenage mutant ninja turtle," she retorts in irritation. Seriously, what," she leans into your space matching her line of sight with yours, "or who are you looking for?"
"Oh my god, stop." You shove her away just in time.
As she flops back into her seat he comes into view.
Sweaty and glorious, flush from a fresh workout at the gym.
You toe-the-line of staring over the top of your book as the most attractive person you've ever seen let's himself into the building. The early morning sun catches his light caramel skin making his biceps glow as he opens the door, emerald eyes sweeping the lobby before checking something on his phone.
"Ohh..my...god..." your friend murmurs low and heady.
"You like girls," you remind her in irritation admiring his spikey-but-still-soft-looking dark hair.
"No shit, but a vegan can appreciate the skill it takes to prepare such a good cut of meat."
"You're incorrigible."
"And you're hopeless." She turns a flat, unsympathetic look on you. "Let me guess, you sit here just to catch a glimpse of him on his walk back from the gym."
"What?" you shrug, unrepentant. "I just want to sample the wine, not run the vineyard."
She almost cackles. "And you call me incorrigible for my metaphor?"
"I don't know what you want from me," you mutter and settle into your chair actually reading your book now as he disappears into the stairwell, the little Godzilla keychain on his bag still swinging.
"Umm, maybe just, I don't know, talk to him?"
"Yeah, sure." You roll your eyes. "I'll just go up to him and introduce myself like this is isn't a weird place to...I don't even know what it would be."
"It would be more productive than whatever you're claiming you're doing here." She nudges your foot with hers. "Like a meet-cute."
"Blegh," you fake-wretch repeating the phrase "meet-cute."
She opens her mouth to retort but before she can say anything else you shoot her a dark look.
She takes the cue and gives you space to read before you have to leave for class and, blessedly, doesn't bother you the next day.
It's odd.
For someone who enjoys giving you a hard time and never misses a chance to say something just for the reaction she's surprisingly...absent.
It's on the third day of this absence that you realize why.
You're reviewing notes this time when your eyes flick to the clock then out the glass doors down the sidewalk--and you freeze.
He is talking
to her.
They split when the sidewalk does, your friend turning in the direction of the dining hall while your morning mystery man continues this way.
He always comes this way, you try to remind yourself, this is his dorm, this is totally normal and there's nothing odd about you sitting here either this is your dorm, too, and you're always here in the morning and he's going to turn like he always does and go into the stairwell and oh god why is coming this way your friend was right this is such a weird place to do your work why didn't you choose someplace inconspicuous!?
Your eyes dart around the lobby but there's no where to hide or run and suddenly the innocent attraction seems a lot creepier as he walks straight up to you.
"Hey," he says in a hard-to-read-but-still-alluring-tenor words shaping around an accent you can't place and motions at the chair next to you. "Anyone sitting here?"
It's hard to answer when you're not breathing so you shake your head trying not to panic.
"So uh...did you see that..." he awkwardly glances back outside, "...that girl I was talking to outside?"
You plot her downfall a hundred different ways as you nod, answering without speaking again.
"Well..." He shifts awkwardly and you brace yourself.
This is it.
This is when he calls you out on oogling him every morning for the past...you're not even sure how long it's been anymore but it's been long enough that he's going to call you out and order you to stay away from him.
"She kind of...what's the phrase," he pauses thinking for a moment and you guiltily admire the serious thoughtful dip of his brow,"...called me out?"
You stiffen.
"I don't know how she did it..." He shyly smiles--more shy than you could imagine anyone as attractive as him being--and rubs the back of his neck. "But she put it together that I...I always come back from the gym when I know you'll be here..."
He stares at his feet with all the insecurity of someone who's never done this before and it's endearing. "So she" --he makes air quotes-- "strongly suggested that I introduce myself."
Some small part of you acknowledges that your friend was right...this place is a little weird for getting work done--
He hesitantly, apologetically, and maybe a little hopefully meets your eye. "So...Hi. I'm Hajime." He gives a small wave. "I'm the one who's been checking you out."
--but perfect for something else.
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yeonzzzn · 12 days
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hii I have an idea in mind ><
hee as your ex watching you ride his best friend jake
but instead of hee freaking out and being jealous, he will join them and ask y/n to show jake how good she can ride him
tysm !!
anon, I literally cannot thank you enough for blessing my askbox with this rq. I was drooling the entire time writing this.
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a good ride: heeseung / jaeyun
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pairing: hee x afab!reader x jake word count: 2.4k
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The last thing Heeseung expected to see when he returned back to the apartment was seeing you—his ex-girlfriend—riding Jake’s—his best friend—cock. 
Heeseung wasn’t even surprised in the slightest. He’s known Jake had the hots for you. He’s seen the way Jake would look at you when you were over like you were a piece of meat he wanted to get his mouth on badly. Has seen how Jake would check you out thinking nobody else had noticed it. 
Heeseung wasn’t even mad. Not at all. You and him have been broken up for a good three months now and Heeseung has accepted the end of the relationship. He figured Jake would snake his way to you somehow, wanting to have a taste of that sweet pussy of yours and even do it behind his back. Heeseung just didn’t think he’d catch you both in the act. 
Does he still love and care for you? Absolutely. Does he miss you? Of course. Does he wish nothing but the best for you even if that’s riding the fuck out of his best friend's dick? Also a yes. Would he do anything to fuck you again? Also a major yes. 
Which is why Heeseung kept quiet, watching carefully as you bounced on Jake’s cock, your head flung back as loud moans escaped your lips. Knuckles turning white from the grip you had on Jake’s shoulders. 
Jake was also completely fucked out. His eyes closed tightly with furrowed brows, panting and moaning like a bitch in heat with his hands attached to your waist. Your name spills from his lips following up with “Yeah, that’s it, baby,” and “Yessss, just like that, fuck.” 
Heeseung found this situation way too hot. Because like, is that how you looked when you rode him? Heeseung has only ever seen how you look when he was beneath you, never from the side like the angle of view he has right now. And boy was it a sight to see. 
Heeseung tried to keep quiet as he palmed his growing hard-clothed cock, steadying himself against the wall. He wanted to touch you, wanted Jake to watch him touch you. Show him how to touch you properly and in all the right places. Wanted Jake to see how you lose yourself on his cock. 
He pushed himself from the wall, his mind on autopilot as he now stood behind you, neither you nor Jake even realizing Heeseung was there. And neither of you didn’t until Heeseung’s hands cupped your breasts. 
You jolted to a stop, and leaned yourself back against Heeseung’s chest, already knowing it was his hands that were touching you, and on pure instinct you fell back onto him, letting out a gasped moan. 
It was Jake’s reaction to you no longer moving, seeing how his eyes widened out of fear that you realized what actually was happening, your body now tensed as you tried to push away from Heeseung. 
Oh god, what did you get yourself into? He was going to kill Jake and then you for this. You could tell Jake had the same thoughts. How could he not? He was railing his best friend's ex-girlfriend. You were supposed to be off limits, something Jake couldn’t have because of the bro code. Jake couldn’t help himself when it came to you, mostly after how upset you were after the breakup, he didn’t leave you alone and when the moment came for him to finally get his cock deep inside you, he took it. But at the cost of his best friend standing behind you now. 
“Why did you stop moving pretty?” Heeseung cooed into your ear, his fingers squeezing the plush of your breasts, “Go on, keep riding him.” 
You looked at Jake in confusion but continued to slowly move on him. This was the last thing you expected. 
Heeseung dipped his head to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses up the skin and to your jaw, “I’ve missed touching you baby,” he whispered, “And I love seeing the way you ride my best friend.” 
Jake’s hands on your waist squeezed tighter, something about the way Heeseung is just…letting this continue did something. You were clenching around his dick tighter, and the angle you sat on his lap now made him fuck so much deeper as you leaned into Heeseung’s touch. 
“Fuck fuck fuck,” Jake chanted, “Fuck she feels so good.” 
“Doesn’t she?” Heeseung snickered, tracing his tongue up the side of your face, “Cum on his cock, YN,” he kissed your brow before dropping one of your tits to connect that hand to your jaw and force you to look at him, “Make him cum too, then you’ll wrap yourself around me, understand?” 
Your head spun at the thought of getting to feel Heeseung deep inside you again. Jake might be big, but Heeseung was big. You ached for that stretch his cock will give you. 
You clenched around Jake tighter at the thought, bouncing faster on his dick. 
“Jake,” Heeseung said, leaning his face closer to you, his hot breath touching your lips, “Rub her clit,” 
Jake listened, releasing one hand from your waist and snaking it down to your clit, rubbing fast circles. 
You jolted your body upward, a wet moan escaping your lips only to be halfway muffled by Heeseung’s lips connecting to yours. His tongue shoved down your throat. 
Jake felt you clench around him,  causing him to throw his head back onto the couch, “she’s fixing to cum,” he moaned, “fuck she’s about to cum.” 
Heeseung pulled from your face, both your tongues still hung out your mouths, a string of salvia connecting your tongues together. Jake lost it at seeing that sight, seeing you so desperate to kiss his friend again, imagining you wanting to be that desperate over him instead. 
Heeseung ran his hand down to your heat and on top of Jake’s hand, helping him rub your clit faster, “Cum for us baby,” Heeseung whispered, “Show him how you can make a mess.” 
You leaned your head back onto Heeseung’s shoulder, keeping eye contact with Jake as he bucks his hips up into you, mouth gaped open and pants getting heavier. Jake loved how you stared at him, loved seeing how you bit your lip and whimpered as you came undone around his cock, keeping your eyes connected to him the entire time. 
Heeseung released his hand from Jake’s, the biggest smirk on his lips as his hands fly back to your tits, squeezing them and kissing your neck again, “Such a good girl baby, taking Jake’s cock so good.” 
“Fuck,” Jake moaned, his hands slipping to your hips and bucking faster, “M’cumming,” he pants more, dropping his head down, furrowing his brows, and squeezing his eyes shut, “Fuck I’m cumming.” 
Jake unloaded into you, pressing your hips down onto him, making sure every drop of his cum was shot deep inside you. 
“Good,” Heeseung cooed, “Make out with her while I undress myself.” 
Jake was confused as to why this was all even happening, but who was he to say no? He just fucked you in front of Heeseung, might as well keep going. 
Jake cups one hand to your neck and brings you to him, lips moving against yours, his aching cock getting hard again as you sit there and cock warm him. His hand at your hips slides to your thigh, squeezing the plush as you shove your tongue down his throat. 
“Fuck that’s so hot,” Heeseung groans, slipping his jacket off his body and tossing it to the floor, seeing how yours and Jake’s cum dripped out your cunt and pooled on Jake’s thighs and legs, “You both came so much.” 
Heeseung stripped himself of the rest of his clothes, sitting beside Jake, “Come here, baby.” 
You release your lips from Jake and look over at your ex-boyfriend, your body shaking as you shift yourself from Jake’s lap to Heeseung, loving how Heeseung’s cock was already twitching, so red and angry as it waits for you to suck it into your pussy. 
Heeseung places his hands on your hips softly, and tucked his bottom lip between his teeth, keeping his eyes locked with yours as you take his cock between your hands and lined himself up to your entrance, slowly sliding down onto him. 
You gasp at the stretch, your hands flying to Heeseung’s shoulders as he fills you completely. 
Heeseung furrowed his brows when his tip hits your cervix, fighting back the urge to close his eyes and release the loudest moan at feeling you wrapped around him, “Fuck, YN. Missed this cunt so fucking much.” 
“Missed this cock too,” you whisper, giving yourself time to adjust to his length and size. 
“Shit,” Jake hisses, taking his cock between his hands and pumping himself, your cum still covering his dick making it the perfect lube to help his hand slide up and down with ease. 
“Okay baby,” Heeseung said, “Show Jake just how good you ride my cock, ya?” 
You nodded, starting slow, letting your cunt shape itself perfectly to Heeseung’s size until you slid up and down his length with no problem then bounced on him. 
Jake was losing his mind, stroking his cock at the same speed you rode Heeseung. Jake knew the sexual chemistry between you and Heeseung would never be on the same level as you and him. Heeseung knew your body inside and out. Has had years to figure out how to work your body with his hands, mouth, cock, and the entirety of his body. Jake only had the few times he’s gotten to make out with you after the breakup and then today. But was Jake jealous to see you riding Heeseung? No, not one bit. All it did was give Jake silent pointers on how to fuck you better next time. 
Heeseung started moving his hips in sync with yours, his fingers digging into your hips, pants leaving his mouth and at a worse rate than what Jake was not even five minutes ago. 
Heeseung might have your body figured out, but he was such a sucker for your pussy. No other cunt will ever feel like yours or replace yours. He was weak for your fuckhole and probably always will be. 
“Fuck I’ve missed this pussy,” he groans, flinging his head back onto the couch, “Missed the way it feels wrapped around me, missed how fucking wet it gets, how it fits my cock so perfectly. Fuck. I’ve missed you. All of you.” 
Heeseung was so in love with you still, and the fact he was balls deep inside you after months of being away from you drove him to the edge. 
You were also still in love with him, losing yourself on his cock and bouncing faster and faster, wanting to feel him come undone beneath you. 
“Jake,” Heeseung hissed, trying to steady his breath but it came out shakey anyways, “Touch her, rub her clit again. I can’t cum before her, wanna feel her cum first. Fuck.” 
Jake stood quickly from the couch, pressing his chest to your back, cock twitching at the pressure of your skin against it. One hand wrapped around the front of your neck, pushing your head to his shoulder, while the other hand ran back to your clit, middle finger circling faster than he did earlier. 
You moaned out, one hand leaving Heeseung’s shoulder and finding its place on Jake’s hand around your neck. He wasn’t choking you, but the pressure there was driving you crazy. 
The feelings you have for both these men were driving you up a wall. And here you were, having the greatest threesome sex with them. 
Your skin felt hot at their touches, breathing became uneven. You tilted your head up to Jake’s, taking his lips back to yours, kissing him so desperately as if you needed to steal the oxygen from him. 
“Faster,” Heeseung groaned, feeling his climax reaching faster than he wanted it to, “Touch her faster.” 
“Fuck,” Jake moaned against your lips, working his finger on your clit faster, your mouth parting and hand gripping his wrist harder, “Fuck look at you, coming so undone by us,” Jake kisses you harder, “You’re so fucking sexy. Being so good at taking our cocks and fingers.” Jake started rubbing his cock against your back, knowing he was close to his second orgasm. 
You clenched around Heeseung’s cock, “I’m cumming,” you moaned into Jake’s mouth, “I’m cumming.”
“Yesssss,” Heeseung hisses, fucking into you faster until he felt your cum wrap around him and seep out your hole and onto his thighs, “Gonna fill this pretty cunt to the brim, gonna show you just how much I’ve missed you.” 
Heeseung fucked into you harder, being nearly seconds away from spilling his seed. Jake was now moaning into your mouth, the friction of your body moving from Heeseung fucking you and him bucking his hips against your back had him shooting his hot cum up your back, curses falling out of Jake’s lips as he drops his head down to your shoulder, biting hard on the skin from the high of his second time cumming. 
Your help from Jake’s bite sent Heeseung over, his cum painting your gummy walls white as if you were the canvas and he was the painter. 
The perfect painting that belonged in a museum. 
Heeseung slumped his body back onto the couch, the grip on your hips softening as his thumbs now do figure eights against the skin, “I love you,” he finally admits, “I still love you.” 
Before you tell him you still love him, Heeseung pulls you closer to his body, with no inch left of space, and falls to his side on the couch, grabbing Jake’s arm to force him to lay behind you, filling up every inch of the couch. 
“We’re dating again,” Heeseung growled, taking your chin between his fingers, “And you’re going to date Jake too.” 
Jake widened his eyes, staring at his best friend as if this was even remotely okay, “We are sharing?” 
Heeseung chuckles, giving a nod, “You already fucked her, I want to keep fucking her. We might as well share.” 
Jake just smiles, his lips connecting back to your shoulder as his index finger traces up and down your side, “I’m fine with that.” 
You felt dizzy as you were sandwiched between your boyfriends, feeling as if you were on cloud 9. 
Heeseung shifted, his cock still inside you twitching, “Jake, ready to ruin her again?” 
Your eyes widened, fixing to protest but feeling Jake’s fingers sliding into your mouth, shutting you up. His cock against your back hardened, “Fuck I want to keep ruining her.” 
This was your life now, but you couldn’t complain. Not when they both bent you over in multiple different positions and gave you praises. 
You could get used to this.
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miinatozakiii · 18 days
Text
clouded
minatozaki sana x fem!reader ; fluff(?)
synopsis: you find yourself with the girl you hate the most, she's drunk, bitchy, yet effortlessly eye-catching even as she insults you. 
warnings: cursing ; alcohol ; not proofread
a/n: hey... hi! surprise!!
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the thumping bass of the music downstairs reverberated through the walls, but in the secluded room upstairs, it was muffled, distant. in this quiet corner, away from the chaos of the party, and sana joined you, settling on the floor with a weariness that mirrored your own. 
“you fucking piss me off, you know?” sana scoffs, slurring her words and failing to keep her attention on on place. “you bitch.” 
“oh shut the fuck up, who’s the one calling me fresh meat? easy to bait? and whatever else you’ve said about me.” you retort, holding a cup of water up to her lips. “drink, shouldn’t be hard since it’s the only thing you’ve been doing all fucking night.” 
leaning her head against the doorframe, sana looked tired, her features bathed in the soft glow of the lamp. you could just barely see her flushed cheeks and the bridge of her nose, accentuating the subtle curve of her plump, parted lips. her eyes, heavy-lidded with fatigue, held a strange warmth as they met yours in the soft illumination.  
you hadn’t had anything to drink, so you can’t blame the alcohol for the spike of your heart beat or the sudden warmth in your cheeks. it was probably the adrenaline from the house party, it had to be because the last person that should be holding your attention captive right now is minatozaki sana. you'll blame the adrenaline for your lingering gaze and the way you subtly admire her face. 
sana's expression twisted into a grimace as she lifted the red plastic cup to her lips. with a sloppy motion, she took a slow sip, the liquid inside trickling down her throat. holding the cup in her hands, she seemed almost childlike, as if she had just come back from running all over the playground. something like that. 
“can you just... go. your face pisses me off.” sana mumbles, opening her eyes a little more just to narrow them again at you. “you piss me off.” 
“yeah? i think i got the hint. you've said that like, five times already in the past minute, including when i helped you up the stairs.” 
 sana groans, putting her palm to her head and sighing. she's absolutely wrecked, she has to be after downing three shots of straight vodka and that nasty beer in the cooler. 
none of her friends had helped her out, and even though she had talked shit about you and been a bitch to you for most of the time you’ve known her – you couldn’t just leave her alone while she’s drunk and groggy.  
“i’m taking you home.” 
“says who?” 
“me, so shut up for once or you’ll find yourself awake tomorrow on the floor and hungover in someones house.”  
sana remained silent, her body melting into the material behind her as she found a moment of reprieve. with the cup still cradled delicately in her hands, she brought it to her lips once more, sipping the water with deliberate slowness. as she swallowed, a contented sigh escaped her lips, a small drop of water lingering at the corner of her mouth. 
your eyes darted to the droplet, a curse escaping your lips as you moved instinctively to wipe it away. with a quick motion, your thumb brushed against her skin, capturing the droplet before it could slip further down her chin.  
“you’re a fucking mess.” you groan. 
sana's intense gaze locked onto yours, her eyes burning with an intensity that seemed to pierce through your very soul. the proximity between you felt almost suffocating, with only inches separating your bodies. your hand pulled away as you sensed her closeness, a flush of embarrassment colored your cheeks.  
sana's gaze flickered down to your lips, her jaw tightening imperceptibly before meeting your eyes once more.  
the world seemed to stand still, the only sound that registered in your ears – despite the bass ringing from downstairs – was the thud of your heartbeat echoing in your ears.  
“why are you still taking care of me?” sana groans, turning her head so she can push herself into the material behind her even more. “just leave me alone...” 
“your little friend group either found someone to fuck or completely abandoned your ass, and i actually have morals. i couldn’t just... leave you there.” you respond, feeling yourself grow bashful. you sigh, looking at sana’s state before grabbing her cup and helping her up.  
your hand instinctively found its way to sana's waist, providing support to keep her upright as you guided her towards the door. with a gentle touch, you steadied her, feeling the warmth of her body against your palm. as you opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, sana's mumbling reached your ears, the words failed to register in your mind. complete gibberish was being uttered, but it was better than an insult. 
in her drunked state, sana leaned into you, her lips dangerously close to your neck. you could feel the heat of her breath against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as you braced yourself before going down the stairs. with each step, the proximity between you seemed to intensify as she weakly tried to tighten her hold around your neck.  
but even as you focused on maintaining your balance and guiding sana safely downstairs, the proximity between you stirred something puzzling. in that fleeting moment, as you finally reached the main floor of the house, the world around you faded into insignificance.  
"hey, wait... you’re slipping away, y/n, don’t leave," sana's voice pierced through the fog of the party, the unexpected emotion catching you off guard. it was a side of sana you hadn't seen before, vulnerable and raw, and it pulled at your heart strings.  
her words were sincere, devoid of the usual sharpness that characterized her tone. instead, there was a longing in her voice, a desperate plea for your presence that left you feeling disoriented.  
"i’m sorry for saying your face pisses me off, it— it doesn’t, it just, you’re so pretty and— please don’t leave me here, it’s so loud...” 
sana's confession hung in the air, leaving you with a mixture of confusion and warmth. was she being genuine in her apology and compliment, or was it just the alcohol talking? it was hard to decipher, and the uncertainty left you feeling perplexed. 
as you stood there with sana in your arm, you couldn't help but tighten your hold on her, a silent promise that you wouldn't leave her side. 
"sana, hey," you began, your voice soft and gentle. "i'm here, we're just a couple steps from the door. i won't leave you." 
the corners of your lips tugged up, a reassuring smile spreading across your face, genuine and unguarded. it was the first time you had smiled at sana, a rare moment of warmth breaking through the tension between you. for once, she wasn't the insufferable, sharp-tongued prick that she usually was. instead, she was vulnerable, you could get used to this, 
sana paused, her lips parting slightly as she gazed at you, mesmerized by the sight before her. in that moment, her mind was a whirlwind of confusion and uncertainty, despite this—one thing became clear: she wanted to see that grin of yours again and again. maybe she’d let go of a bitchy facade, it wouldn’t hurt to throw one less insult your way. 
getting out of the house wasn't too difficult, but maneuvering past the couple making out in the doorway was definitely a challenge. sana clung to you tightly as you navigated through the crowded area, murmuring something – what had she been saying? hell, you couldn’t make out any of it – until the two of you had fully made it down to the sidewalk. 
as you reached the car, sana's grip on you tightened, her words a jumble of unintelligible syllables. despite the difficulty in deciphering her drunken words, you managed to open the door to the passenger side, guiding her inside with gentle persistence. 
once seated, sana squirmed in her seat, making it a challenge to fasten her seatbelt. after pushing the seat back for her and earning more space to maneuver, you managed to secure the buckle, before slipping into the driver's seat and starting the engine. 
as you drove, sana watched your every move with a squinty, curious look, her gaze unwavering despite the haze of alcohol clouding her senses. it was as if she was trying to piece together the puzzle of your actions, her eyes reflecting a mixture of fascination and befuddlement. despite the jumbled circumstances, there was a sense of intimacy in the way she observed you. 
“what’s your address?” you ask, turning to her and raising a brow. she stays silent, eyes threatening to close.  
you scoff, shaking your head out of frustration because the lenience towards your daily hassle is starting to run low. swiftly, you grab her face lightly, squishing her cheeks in between your fingers subtly to sober her up the best you can. sana's cheeks flush, and it’s not the alcohol fucking her up that’s making it happen. 
“i hate drunk people like you, so goddamn incompetent.” you sigh, watching her eyes widen slightly. “as if you weren’t already a pain in the ass.” 
sana furrows her brows, pouting and turning away from you before crossing her arms.  
“you’re so mean.” she whines, turning her body towards the window on her side. 
“you’re saying that to me?” you question, raising your brows out of pure disbelief. “i could write a list of shit you’ve had to say—” 
“i say things all the time, just take me home, you talk so fucking much.” sana groans, closing her eyes. “i live in the apartment closest to the shopping center in northside.” 
dealing with this intoxicated version of sana was testing your patience more than her usual, sober self ever did. her pouty and moody demeanor grated on your nerves, pushing you to the brink of simply cursing her out. despite the annoyance, you couldn't deny the inexplicable pull she had on you.  
as you drove, her squirming and murmuring only added to your exasperation, but beneath the surface irritation, there was an undeniable attraction simmering. it was infuriating how her drunken antics somehow made her even cuter, despite your best efforts to resist. her poutiness and moodiness, while frustrating, held a hint of vulnerability that made it easier to tolerate her. as much as you hated to admit it, there was a small part of you that found it endearing, a flicker of affection that you couldn't quite ignore.  
just a little bit cute, that’s all she was right now, even as you fought against the growing attraction. it was a terrible predicament to be in, but as you stole glances at her from the corner of your eye, you couldn't help but feel drawn to her in a way that defied literally everything that you’ve felt about her before. 
(though, you’ve always found her attractive, it’s that personality of hers that made you want to throw something at her.) 
it was terrible, this whole situation. she’s being a prick – nothing new – yet she looks adorable.  
half of the car ride was filled with stupid sighs and incoherent rambles coming from the drowsy, intoxicated woman to your right. ten minutes pass and you’re parked in front of what you think is sana’s apartment complex.  
you help her out and she clings onto you again, temporarily getting rid of your irritation.  
“second floor, 203.” she says, holding you closer than before. 
you've been in this situation countless of times, being friends with touchy, emotional men who find themselves calling you at the ungodly hours of night every weekend with lazy, drunken voices. however, sana makes you laugh with this sudden affection. the only thing your male friends have made you feel is angry and irritated, but you’d rather have those assholes survive the night instead of outside and vulnerable. 
"sana," you mutter, realizing it would be a hassle to walk her all the way to her place, "just... hang on." with a sigh, you gently pry her clinging arms off you, before crouching down slightly. "get on my back, it'll be faster." 
sana hums in confusion, her drunken haze making comprehension a bit slow. but with a tilt of your head and patient urging, she finally gets the message. slowly, she clambers onto your back, wrapping her arms around your neck and resting her head on your shoulder as she piggybacks you. she’s closer than before, close enough that you can smell the mix of alcohol and vanilla coming from her.  
"you're strong," she mumbles, her voice slurred. 
"you're not heavy, sana," you chuckle, surprising yourself with how amused you are by the situation.  
sana really isn’t heavy, making it easier for you to walk up the stairs despite a whole woman being on your back. you reach the second floor and look for her room number, 203, and let out a small breath of relief once you reach it.  
you try to get her off your back, but she simply clings on tighter with each attempt.  
“no, this is fun, i have the code, just press.” sana mutters into your ear, “1019.”  
rolling your eyes at sana's whining, you punch in the code and the door unlocks with a soft click. with a sigh of relief, you turn the knob and let yourselves in, flicking on the lights to illuminate the dimly lit apartment. your gaze immediately falls on the couch across the room, and you guide sana over to it, ignoring her protests. 
once she's settled on the couch – although not without more grumbling – you stride over to the nearby fridge. opening it, you grab a bottle of water. with water in hand, you return to sana's side, gently coaxing her to drink a little more. 
"come on, sana, it'll help you feel better," you urge, holding the bottle to her lips and tipping it slightly. despite her reluctance, you manage to get her to take a few sips. “lightweight.” you say under your breath. 
after you wipe away at the water that managed to spill out the corner of her lips, she groggily says, “i’m so tired.”  
“then sleep, you’re home.” 
“will you leave me if i do?” 
looking at her in surprise, you respond, “what?” 
sana lays down on the couch, her cheek smushed against a pillow, a soft sigh escaping her lips. 
"why don't you stay?" she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. 
you chuckle softly at her suggestion, shaking your head in amusement. "you'd kill me in the morning. i don't know if you're aware of this right now, minatozaki, but you fucking hate my guts." 
with a wistful smile, you glance around the room, your eyes landing on a cozy-looking blanket draped over the back of the couch. without hesitation, you reach for it and gently drape it over sana -- only covered in her cropped, fit tee and jeans -- ensuring she's comfortable before responding, 
"i wish i knew why," you admit, your voice tinged with a hint of dissapointment. 
sana's response catches you off guard, her words slurred with sleepiness. "i don't. you’re just... too pretty to be interacting with someone like miyeon. she's worse than you." 
miyeon? the mention of your ex-friend only adds to the confusion of the evening, and you can't help but dismiss sana's words as nonsense ramblings brought on by alcohol. 
"you're saying stupid shit right now," you tease gently, a fond smile playing on your lips as you look at her tenderly. 
despite the chaos of the night and the annoyance she's caused you, there's something undeniably endearing about sana in this moment. it's hard to hate her when she's like this, vulnerable and unguarded, and you find yourself softening towards her despite your better judgment. 
as sana closes her eyes and falls into a peaceful silence, you take it as your cue to start leaving. with one last glance at her sleeping form, you quietly make your exit, knowing that it's best to give her the rest she needs to recover from the night's festivities. 
you can't help but feel a warmth spreading through your chest, a feeling that maybe, just maybe, dealing with this intoxicated sana isn't so bad after all—maybe even sober sana. you wouldn’t mind taking care of her again, maybe less bickering, though. maybe she’s not so bad, but you’ll come to a final conclusion later.
probably. 
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queers-gambit · 3 months
Text
Campus Breakdown
prompt: ( requested ) after a hard day, at least you can come home to him.
pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader
fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear
word count: 1.6k+
warnings: reader's a graduate student, cursing, small angst but mostly small hurt bigger comfort.
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The door slammed shut in a forceful rattle, making Carmy perk up from his place on the couch. "Baby?" He called, setting aside the magazine you left behind.
"Carmy?" You sounded confused, exiting the foyer to round into the living room. "Hey, what're you doing home so early?"
"Uh, pipe burst at work, left Fak t'deal with it," he sniffled, muting the television. "What's up with you? Or do you always slam doors happily around here?"
You sighed, "Sorry, I just - it's been a day and a half, you know?"
He pouted dramatically, offering, "Wanna tell me 'bout it?"
"It won't fix what happened."
"No, but it might help get it off your chest, filter a little emotion."
You nodded absently, "I think I might want a glass of wine first - maybe two."
He felt a surge of empathy in his chest, knowing that distant look in your eyes and the way your entire demeanor seemed absent, distracted, exhausted. Work often kicked his ass, too, so there was an understanding after so many nights you had let him rant and rave about whatever went wrong - it was only right to return the favor.
Carmy readjusted the pillows and coffee table, leaning over to light the scented candle you kept there; grabbing a blanket to prepare for you. When you entered the living room, you had stripped out of your pants and was pouring a glass of wine, leaving the bottle on the cleaned-up coffee table; sighing when you dropped onto the couch.
"All right, pretty girl," Carmy chuckled, pulling your feet into his lap. You readjusted with a small grumble as Carmy then tossed the blanket over you, but left your feet out for him to massage. "Tell me what happened today."
You held up a single finger, downing more than half your glass of wine. Carm's brows perked up, blinking in shock before nodding slowly when you swallowed. "Today. Fucking. Sucked," you told him.
"I can see that, and feel it - your feet are knotted," he noted, working his thumbs into the meat. "Did you sit down at all today?"
"Well, no, 'cause I had to work alone today," you groaned. "Lisa has mono, Brittany had to make up some exam, Benjamin apparently had a meeting with the bursar's office, and Stacy literally stood outside, fighting with her boyfriend - like what!?"
Carmy offered you a stale look in reaction to your story, "She get docked?"
"Well, yeah, I mean, I kinda had to; she didn't bus a single table, she didn't talk to a single customer, like, the only other person working with me today was Carl and he was in the kitchen the whole time."
"Doesn't sound exactly fair..."
"It's a shitty campus diner, Carmy, 'fair' isn't exactly in their vocabulary, but the tips are semi decent 'cause we have that 'drunk rush special'. Oh! Wait! That's not all," you hummed, taking another gulp. "'Cause why would anything go right on a day I worked the entire floor alone? Right?"
"What else?" He asked, turning in his seat so he could face you directly; still massaging your feet, but leaning his cheek on your bent knee to remain close.
"The fucking register went down."
"You mean the only one in the whole place?"
"Yep, of course! 'Cause why the fuck wouldn't anything go right?" You scoffed. "And it's not like any of this was, like, hidden, you know? It was very obvious I was working alone, the register was fucked, but do you think that made anyone empathetic towards the situation? No, of course not, they wanted to just pay their bills and leave. Which I fucking get! But like, what!?"
"What'd you do?"
"Took cash only," you shrugged. "ATM was still up and running, so it was on them," you wiped you eyes, sighing deeply. "Still bitched the whole time though, complained to whoever listened. End of the night, that new manager even docked my tips, you believe that?"
"Hold up - for what?" Carm snapped.
"Customers were that pissed, Carmy, so a few of them dined-and-dashed, someone had to pay," you whined, head tilted back. "Like I did any of this on purpose? Like I went and unplugged shit myself? Like I wanted to make my life significantly harder? Do people even fucking think by themselves now? Where's the empathy?"
"Nah, they definitely lack in that department," he chuckled. "Know what I'm gonna say, right?"
"Hmm? Oh, Carmy, no," you groaned, "I'm not working at The Beef."
"It's ten times better than where you work, baby," he pouted. "And I could use someone with experience like yours with the customers. Richie's not always the best 'face of the store', you know?"
"No, Carmy," you refused sternly.
"C'mon, why not?"
"You as my boss? And boyfriend? Fuck no!"
"I'm literally so nice!"
"Yeah, that's exactly what Sydney says," you laughed, nudging his stomach with your foot. "Baby, no. Listen, I appreciate it, I really do, but I get ten times the tips at that shitty diner than I would at The Beef, and it's right on campus so I lose literally no time."
He sighed, "You're only, what? A year out from your Masters?"
"Just about," you grumbled with a pout.
Carmy chuckled, "C'mon, baby, don't torture yourself. Get a new job."
"I'm not, I'm just - " You cut yourself off with a sigh, hating that advice (as if it were just so simple), shaking your head and finishing your wine. "I'm just dealing with my current circumstances, I'm sorry I came home in a bad mood - "
"No, hey, wait," Carmy sat up, reaching for your cheek to hold, "I didn't mean to make you feel as if I was shutting you down. Baby, I always want you t'talk to me, okay? I just mean, there's something better out there, and you deserve better than that place. I hate seeing you so stressed out," he pouted dramatically, making you snicker lightly.
"You're one to talk," you reminded softly, sitting up so you could nestle under his arm. "You're stressed out, like, more than 90% of the time."
"Hey now, we're talkin' about your day, not mine," he deflected with a small chuckle. "What if I asked around a bit? You know, a different server job? I can check out places close to campus, but you'd get much better tips and better customers at a nicer place."
You groaned, "Now that sounds nice." He chuckled with you now. "I mean, it's bad enough I have to deal with those creepy frat boys in class, but in the diner, I have to play nice 'cause they tip with daddy's money well if I don't shut them up. It'd be nice working somewhere they couldn't even afford t'walk into."
"See? I'm good for something."
"You're good for everything, Carm, shut up," you laughed, leaning up to kiss his jawline. "I'm just tired of this whole 'pay your dues' bullshit. You know? I get having to suffer a little to build a better character, but for fuck's sake."
Carmy pouted, "Sounds like a second glass of wine kinda rant?"
You pouted back at him, nodding, both mockingly making little noises as he lifted from his sitting position to snag the bottle of wine. You smiled as he poured, watching his face, loving the effect he had on you; feeling calm and serene, and it wasn't the alcohol. When the bottle was set aside again, he tugged your legs over his lap and laid one of his arms around your shoulders; keeping you snuggled close and under the blanket.
"What else happened?" He asked softly, kissing your temple.
"I don't want to sound like I'm just bitching."
"How else do you expect to blow off steam? Huh?" He countered. "You're not bothering me, I want to hear this, baby - all of it. So, lemme recount, yeah? Okay, so, you worked alone your whole shift with only the frycook in the back, the cash register went down, and that made a buncha customers all pissed off. Enough that a few dipped off and you had to cover their bills. But the ATM was good, so they could still pay cash, but they were still being dickheads, yeah?"
"Mhm," you hummed, halting yourself.
"Nuh-uh, c'mon, what else?"
Tears sprung to your eyes as your head lulled onto his shoulder. "It was just a really shitty day, Carm," you whispered, giving a small sniffle. "Guys are grimy and gross, they garnished my wages 'cause of those dashers - I told you. It was a fucking shit show! Oh, and a few bulbs blew all within 10 minutes of each other - like fully snap, crackle, and pop, blew out. So, I had to call the electrician, he took over 2 hours to get there, so, part of the back dining room was darker and this group of guys all decided to sit back there - it was so fucking creepy!"
Carmen frowned, listening to you rant and rave about how overworked and under appreciated you were. He held you tight, raking a hand through your hair, tracing invisible patterns on your upper arm; keeping you close as the wine slowly sunk into your blood. You grew less lucid by the passing hour, mostly the exhaustion sinking in, but Carmy didn't mind.
He just adjusted you both on the couch so he was laid out with you safely tucked between the cushions and his body. You had long since changed subjects; going from shitty work conditions to sports to your coursework load, then to The Beef, breezed over whatever Richie's daily attitude was about, then quietly debated if Carmy was taking the weekend off to spend it with you. Now, the TV was the only light on in the apartment, wine bottle empty, you resting on Carmy's chest; his arms tight around you, blanket tangled around your legs, both speaking quietly into the night before sleep claimed you both.
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requesting rules and masterlist
The Bear masterlist
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gayerthanevertbh · 10 months
Text
morning shenanigans.
pairings: natasha romanoff x fem!reader
n.r masterlist | navigation | n.r one-shots masterlist
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summary: you and natasha spent the morning making “love” while other people were awake. 
warnings: rough sex, dirty talking, daddy kink, natasha being a little needy, pet names (sweetheart, slut, whore, etc), talks about anal sex, and more - 18+ MINORS DNI.
author’s note: just a little fic in my head that i wrote lol enjoy cx
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“Natasha, oh my god!”
You clutched the headboard as Natasha rutted into you, grunting and panting above you like a hungry animal devouring its prey. She had her eyes closed and was moaning every time your cunt clenched on her meaty length, making it even more difficult for her not to come so soon. She flutters her eyes open as she kisses your lips hard and sloppily, spitting into your mouth as if she wanted you to be in her forever.
"Jesus Christ," she sighs, rolling her hips each time her cockhead brushes against your cervix. “You’re so tight for me, fuck! Oh god–”
“Quiet, Henry might hear us–”
"He's probably asleep," the older woman above you mutters as she feels your inner walls squeezing her cock once more, causing her to roll her eyes in the back of her head. "You're squeezing me too tightly, baby girl."
You smirk at her, clawing her ass as you let her go deeper inside of you.
“You don’t like that, Daddy?”
“Who said I didn't like it?” she growls, licking a stripe from her neck as she continues to cling to you, grabbing your hips. “You like this, don’t you? Do you like it when Daddy fucks you like this?”
You whimpered out loud, turning your gaze to the door, apprehensive that your child would burst into your room if he saw your girlfriend fucking you into oblivion.
“Baby, look at me,” she says softly, her hand gripping your jaw as she kisses your lips. “That’s it, you’re doing so good angel…” she pulls out of your pussy, leaving only her cockhead inside your walls as she wraps her hand around her meat and slowly pumps herself, looking down at you hungrily.
“D-Daddy,” you whimpered, attempting to roll her hips so that her entire length could slip into you. “Please fuck me... Fuck me good. I want you to go deep inside of me and fill me up.”
“Yeah?” she asks, her other hand squeezing your right breast and tweaking your nipple as you whine quietly. “You like this, baby? Hm? Gonna ruin your fucking pussy for everyone else, okay? Stay quiet and be pretty for me, little girl.”
Natasha pushed her penis all the way inside of you again, the bed creaking as she pounded into you hard, her mouth on your chest, open-mouth kisses on the middle of your cleavage. She moves her hands all over your back, thrusting her cock in and out until you feel yourself losing control and falling into euphoria.
“I need you so much,” she begs, peppering her lips all over your collarbone. “Y-You make me want to bust my nut into you, make you my breeding bitch. Tell me, you want to be bred like a little whore, huh? Come on.”
Natasha's hips snap back into you, pulling out before pumping herself back in. She looks down, watching her cock slip inside of you so easily that she might mistake you for no longer being tight. But you've always been so tight on her, so desperate for her penis, that she can go hard whenever she sees you. The older redhead returns her gaze to you and smirks, unconcerned that the neighbors might hear them banging each other's heads together.
"Good girl," she grunted, closing your mouth as she lifted your other leg, her cock effortlessly slipping inside of you. She draws back, seeing your juices coat her long limbs. "Do you like my big cock, sweetheart?" "You like Daddy's big cock?"
“Mhm!” you bit your bottom lip as her hips rolled back into you, causing the bed to groan once again. “Nat, Henry might-”
“Just be quiet, baby. H-he won't hear anything,” she mumbles as she gives you a gentle kiss. “You're making Daddy feel so good, God. I feel you all over my dick, fuck…”
Natasha's tip was mercilessly slamming into your sensitive spot, and your whines and moans could be heard throughout the room - you couldn't help yourself, she was too excellent at this. She was too adept at making you feel as if you were in oblivion or paradise. Her growls get louder as both of your wet skins slap together, filling up the room to the point that you could assume someone could hear you from outside.
“You're such an obedient little slut,” she moaned above you, her tongue brushing over your nipple. “Do you enjoy being fucked by me? Do you enjoy being my naughty little girl?”
“Uh-huh,” you moaned in return, nodding vigorously. “Please, go hard, please-”
“Telling me what to do right now, hm?” she groans into your neck, jackhammering her hips into you. She spreads your legs widely with her knees, allowing herself to fuck you without a care in the world.
“Feels good?” she asks while panting, her breasts bouncing each time she ruts into you. You couldn't resist sucking one of her nipples, causing her to hiss. “Oh fuck–shit, oh god… that feels so good–”
“Are you close?” you asked, whining as you felt her cock hump into you and her arms tighten around you. “Daddy, cum in me–”
“I'm here, baby… oh fuck,” she moans aloud, sucking on your neck to the point of bruising. She continues to pound into you until she stops her hips, balls deep inside of you. “I'm going to cum, I'm going... Oh, shit!”
She stills her hips and releases massive amounts of sperm into you, her ass twitching as she releases her thick, white milk into you, her mouth all over your chest. You ran your fingers through her short brunette hair, gripping it tightly as you went around her length. She yanked out quickly, splattering more thick cum all over your pussy lips - she smiled.
"D-Did you like that?" she asks, her gaze fixed on your pussy clench. She couldn't help but grab her tip and spread the cum all over your folds, repeatedly slapping the head on your clit. This gesture made you flutter your eyes closed. “Fuck, baby. I just gave you a creampie.”
“Yeah…” you sighed, your eyes closed, as you felt Natasha's cum oozing out of your hole, causing her to chuckle deeply. “Happy now?”
“That I came in you? Yes,” she said as she stood up in her loose gray boxers, an obvious tent in her undergarment. “What is it?” asks the older woman, turning her head over her shoulder.
“I feel like Henry heard us.”
She snickered and crept back under the covers, clutching you close. “I doubt it. He’s dead asleep, baby.”
“Yeah, I guess–”
A loud bang is heard against the bedroom door. “Mommy? Can you please help me make waffles? I know Mama is still asleep, so please come and help me.”
You laughed softly as you rolled out of bed, teasing Natasha with your bare ass. “I want to bite your ass,” she said quietly.
“You could do that later, my love.” you brushed your hair away from your sweaty face while wearing shorts.
Natasha was allowing herself some free time by staying at your apartment for a short time while she was away from the compound. You had to inform the older woman you had a son when you first met her. You assumed she would resist you because she did not want to be engaged with a single parent. But the moment she heard you say those words, she treated Henry as if he were her own. It was as if you had a new family with her, and you felt entirely whole again.
She stood up when she heard your mother calling from the other side of the room. She kisses your left cheek while brushing her hair off her brow and wearing sweatpants.
"Can I also cum in your ass?" she asked with a whine. “Please, baby girl? Please? Come on, it’ll fit.”
You give your girlfriend a wink as you leave the room, the sperm in your cunt still leaking from its hole. Oh well, you thought. I’ll fix that later.
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