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#“You'll pierce right through him?” “You'll open-wide him?”
Club Fun
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A/n: this is a draft that I’ve had for a while and I just kept putting it off posting because I wasn’t sure I liked it but I wanted to put it out and see what other people think 💕 thanks for reading I appreciate it 💕
(This also isn’t proofread at all soooo I’m sorry for any mistakes)
Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, adult themes and Nat being a pain in the ass
"Come on Y/n how bad could a gentleman's club be?" Nat pushed you through the doors even with you groaning and pushing back against her
"Nat I have a literal alien in my body and I don't know what will set them off" you felt a grumble in your head
"I am not a prepubescent teenager Y/n I am sophisticated"
"Only because you can't survive without me out of my body" you grumbled back and Nat really wished she could understand what you were saying to the alien
You looked up and sighed "okay let's go in"
Nat smiled wide and guided you through the small hallway to the second bouncer "hey we're Nat and Y/n, we have a table booked under Tony Stark?"
The man looked you both over the at the list seeing your names and allowing you past "please keep your hands to yourselves and don't try and get any dancer's numbers because they'll just laugh at you" he laughed and you rolled your eyes turning to Nat
"does he think we're kids? Pretty sure I can control myself around some scantily clad women"
Nat scoffed "talk about yourself Y/n, I see a hot woman staring at me I'll give her money my number, my soul anything the sexy lady wants"
You giggled "you'll get us kicked out the moment we sit down at the booth"
Nat ignored you as she eyed up a waitress walking past who gave her a wink in response "yeah yeah whatever I'm gonna go and get some free drinks" she patted you on the back leaving you alone, well with the alien obviously
"We are being stared at"
You glanced around not noticing anything "what are you talking about?"
They turned your body around suddenly nearly falling over before you managed to steady yourself "dude what the fuck, you can't just turn me around like that!" You whisper shouted at them but they ignored you
"There is a redhead lady who is looking at us and biting her lip, I think she is older than us" you were pointed towards said woman and she gave you a wink
"Oh you're right, do you think she wants us to go over?" Before you could say anything else the woman in question walked over to you "hi pretty girl, do you need some help? You look a little lost"
The sweetness in her voice made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and your mouth go dry "oh-er no-no thanks my friend is just getting drinks" you glanced at Nat who was very much not getting your drinks but instead was making out with the waitress she followed after
"It seems you're friend is a little busy right now, I'll take you to your booth" she pulled you towards a booth, her hand gripping your own sweaty mess of a hand.
You were near enough thrown into the booth and the woman followed close near enough sat in your lap "how about I get us some shots? They should loosen your cute tongue"
"...okay" you whispered and the women smiled kissing you on the cheek turning around and singling for a waiter to come over with their tray of shots
"How many miss Scarlet?" The man asked and she told him to put the tray down "thanks Brucie"
He left without another word and she took a glass from the tray pointing it towards you "here you go pretty girl" she tipped the drink towards your mouth and you opened your mouth taking the drink "good?"
You nodded licking the left over liquid from your lips "yeah it's good"
The woman's piercing green eyes were locked onto yours sitting in silence for a few moments before she spoke again "can I interest you in a dance?" She asked sweetly and you shook your head maybe a little too much making her pout
"Awe are you sure? I can relive all of that clear tension coming off of your shoulders, you're too pretty to be stressed"
She stood up bringing you with her and walking off towards Nat who managed to pull her face away from the waitress long enough to talk to you
"Y/n! This place is amazing! This is Maria, she's great" her ragged breath made you laugh "I'm sure she is amazing Nat"
Maria looked behind you to the woman and winked "so Scarlet, is this your new little conquest?"
So her name was Scarlet, or maybe just her stage name, you were certain no one gave their real names out, but this Maria did? She's not a dancer though you guessed?
Scarlet's arms wrapped around your waist getting your attention and she chuckled when you jumped "don't think too hard there pretty girl" she looked to Maria "I offered a dance but she turned me down Mia"
You couldn't see her face but you knew she was pouting about you refusing a dance "Y/n you can't refuse a dance! That's the whole point of the club!"
"I know but-
"No buts Y/n! Go on Scarlet take her to a room and help her relax" Nat demanded ignoring your embarrassed face
"Whatever the costumer wants they get Natalia" Scarlet smirked grabbing your hand leading you through the club away from the safety of people and noise for a quiet private room
"You need to relax honey, I promise you're okay I'll take such good care of you" she purred sitting you down on the couch and you finally looked at her properly seeing the dark red blazer wrapped around her body
"Y/n your body is heating up is everything okay?"
You couldn't answer them instead watching Scarlet unbutton her blazer dropping it to the floor
"Holy shit" you whispered letting your eyes wonder over her lingerie barley covering her body, it was useless being there in all honesty, her breasts were practically spilling out and that's where you met her finger pointing to her face "my eyes are up here princess" she chuckled and your eyes snapped up
"S-sorry!"
She giggled coming towards you and straddling your lap placing a leg on either side "don't say sorry for admiring beauty honey, let's start with your name again"
"Y-y/n" you whispered feeling your hands unintentionally land on her thighs and she gasped "getting bold Y/n? I like it"
"You were moving too slow so I needed to help you Y/n"
You knew they where right, you had a woman, a hot woman you may add on your lap wearing the hottest thing you’ve ever seen and yeah sure it’s part of her job but you could have fun right?
“Get out of your pretty head Y/n” she brought you out of your thoughts and jumped at how you could feel her breath on your face as she whispered in your ear “so Y/n are you going to tell me what you I can do for you?
“This is all new to me so I don’t know what to ask for”
Scarlet looked over you and your slightly trembling body “how about a kiss?" She didn't really wait for answer before kissing you on the lips softly, you remained frozen until you were mentally slapped by your symbiote
"Y/n I do not get aroused or feel sexual tension but even I am suffering through this air of arousal, kiss her back"
You relaxed into the kiss sighing as you kissed her back, feeling Venom slip into your body and elongate your tongue and force her mouth open slipping the long tongue inside and wrapping around her own, Scarlet either didn't realise or didn't care because she moaned into the kiss trying to gain some kind of control
When you both had to pull away for some air Scarlet was shocked seeing the tongue lull out of your mouth "what the hell is that? Looks like your tongue had an erection" when she laughed and didn't run away from you or slap you your heart grew ten sizes, it was nice you guessed if still little strange.
"Can you even talk with that thing?" she giggled and wen to kiss you again but you pulled away letting your tongue return to its normal size
"Everthing okay?" She placed a kiss on your cheek as a reassurance and you smiled
"Have you ever heard of symbiotes?"
She sat back on your lap thinking about it "like that alien that tried to destroy the world? Are you that alien?"
You shook your head "no! No at all, I was just infect-sorry chosen to be a host for one...do you want to meet them?"
Scarlet had to bite her lip to keep herself from laughing "well this is nothing like my normal encounters here but sure, let's see the little alien"
Venom didn't need to be told twice and their tendrils appeared forming a their head smiling at Scarlet
"You are a very pretty lady miss Scarlet, I cannot feel aroused or these silly human feelings but you have a hot body and Y/n agrees"
"Venom! Just stop talking" you groaned trying to get away but you were still trapped under Scarlet's thighs
"God this is so weird, it's a good thing you're hot" she lent forward placing a kiss on your neck and then biting you there, you looked at Venom whispering "go back"
They looked at you funny so you said it again "it's a private moment now Venom"
They understood and retreated back into your body quickly and you focused back on the feeling of her soft lips on your neck.
******************************************************************
“My lips are chapped Nat” Maria pulled away from Nat who still tried chasing after her “oh come on, they’re not that bad”
The waitress gently pushed her away “you’re insatiable, I like it, give me a few minutes and I’ll take you somewhere nice”
‘Where?” She questioned
“To the best room we have, it’s got a mini fridge” Maria kissed Nat again softly refusing to let her take over the kiss again “plus we can watch the cameras for your friend”
Nat’s eyes widened “there’s cameras in the room?”
Maria laughed “obviously, how else are we supposed to protect our girls?”
She lead Nat through the club into a closed off area and through a door to a room with a couch, a mini fridge and the cameras she mentioned
“This looks like a pervs hangout” Nat commented but Maria just rolled her eyes pushing the redhead to the couch “just sit there and be quiet, if that’s something you can do”
"I prefer being loud" Nat winked
"I can’t wait to prove that later" Maria took some wine out of the fridge and sat next to the woman giving her a kiss on the cheek “okay let’s get this started" she turned on the Tv changing the channel through the rooms before finding you and Scarlet
"Ugh boring they're just talking" nat looked through the screen, she hoped she could read lips so she knew what you were saying, when she got a closer look she noticed Venom's head at the side of you "what the fuck?!"
Maria put down the wine quickly looking at these screen "what's that?! Is that a puppet? Does your friend have a puppet kink? A little odd but I'm sure Scarlet can work with that" Maria was laughing but Nat only let out a small chuckle too focused on why the hell Venom decided to make themselves known, suddenly Scarlet lent forward kissing and started kissing your neck
"The puppet worked" Maria laughed and Nat managed a small laugh "hah yeah sure" she turned the TV off instead not wanting to focus on you and your weird alien friend, she had no idea why Scarlet didn't mind it though
"Well they're boring now"
******************************************************************
Scarlet's lips moved up to your ear "you're not the only one with a secret princess"
Your smile dropped and you pulled away suddenly but Scarlet just laughed "it's okay honey nothing horrible, do you know what a coven is?"
You flexed your hands on her thighs and swallowed nervously "like witches?"
She smiled "yes"
"Are you a witch?"
She simply nodded and flashed her red eyes making you gasp "shit that's so cool!" You were memorised, maybe a little scared since witches were seen as strange or evil but a dancer at a gentleman's club couldn't be evil...right?
"I'm not evil honey, just someone who gets bored easily and needs something to do"
Did she read your mind?? You looked at her surprised and she giggled "yes princess I can read minds and yours has been a delight to listen too"
That's so weird but cool as well, so what so we do now?"
"Well, my real name is Wanda to start with, I use Scarlet because the guys like it, and for security of course"
You were really trying to listen honestly you were but your eyes kept flickering down to her chest
"You're not listening to a thing I'm saying are you?" Wanda laughed using her finger to lift up your chin "it's okay, I know what you really want" she lent forward to kiss you but a bell went off stopping her in her tracks "oooh sorry princess times up"
She tried pulling away but your fingers dug into her thighs keeping her there "but you were going to kiss me again?”
She raised her eyebrow and smiled at you "I know, I love leaving my clients on edge, it guarantees they come back"
This time Venom growled and appeared again "that seems a little unfair Wanda, we showed you me, I think we deserve a treat"
She just shrugged managing to pull away from you standing up and covering herself with her robe "are you saying you don't want to see me again?"
Both you and Venom were confused
"Because if I slept with you that's what would happen, and I'm quite enjoying your company"
"She is teasing us Y/n"
You agreed "she is"
Wanda watched you as you were thinking, and you knew she was reading your mind "you have some hot thoughts in there Y/n, a stark difference from when we first started, now come on, your friend will be waiting for you"
You sighed reluctantly getting up and going past Wanda when she gave you a small smack on your ass "hey!"
She laughed "I couldn't help myself honey"
****************************************************************
"Nice to finally see you two out of the room, did you give her the full dance Scarlet?" Maria laughed glancing between the two of you and the redhead smiled wrapping her fingers around your waist "she had a wonderful time Maria, she'll be coming back tomorrow night"
Nat gasped and you looked at her "you're coming back?! Wow Y/n, she must've given you the full treatment eh?"
When your face blushed Wanda kissed your cheek "you're so cute malen'kiy you can have my number, so call me when you're here tomorrow and I'll come and get you"
You nodded and went to kiss Wanda but you weren't too sure until Wanda pulled you in close kissing you hard
"Oooooohhhh!" Nat exclaimed excitedly "Maria did you see that?! My little virgin is getting somewhere!"
You instantly pulled back going bright red "Nat! I'm not a virgin! I've slept with loads of women"
Both women laughed and Wanda tried hiding her own smirk "it's okay princess, I'm an excellent teacher"
You groaned pulling away from the woman "come on Nat before I sink into the ground from embarrassment"
Nat giggled and kissed Maria one more time "so it look's like I'll see you tomorrow?"
"I'll have the usual room ready" she winked in response kissing the redhead again
"Do I get a good-bye kiss?" Wanda pouted and you rolled your eyes walking back to her "I never expected this coming into a strip club" holding the woman's face in your hands you kissed Wanda softly before pulling away then kissing her nose
"Hmm you're my favourite client malen'kiy"
"I have no idea what that Russian word means but I hope it's good"
Wanda giggled kissing the side of your head "Ty takaya ocharovatel'naya printsessa, dumayu, ya ostavlyu tebya ty moya"
You heard Nat soft gasp from the side of you and you whipped your head around to her "did she say something shocking?"
Wanda looked to Nat shaking her head and Nat nodded "just some sickly sweet thing about you, typical for you to come into a gentleman's cub for a dance from a stripper to come out with a potential partner"
You shrugged "hey I can't help it if I have incredible game"
The group burst out laughing even Wanda joined in making you pout
"Y/n I love you I really do but you're really terrible with women, I'm surprised Wanda actually made out with you"
You blushed hard leaner closer into Wanda "yeah well fuck you Nat" okay it wasn't the best comeback but its the only one you could think of
"It's okay Y/n I thought that was a very good comeback" Wanda kissed your cheek "okay honey, I've got to go back to work"
You started to talk back but a finger shushed your lips "I still need money my love but I want you back here tomorrow okay?"
You nodded "I'm definitely coming back all the time Wanda, I'll sit in the corner with a snack"
Wanda held in a giggle rubbing your shoulder "oh honey I don't think my clients would enjoy that"
"Then they'd to keep their hands off of you" you retorted and Wanda laughed "my little possessive girl don't worry, you'll get the special private dances"
It was your turn to blush hard again and you had to keep yourself steady "o-oh okay cool yeah! Great"
Nat laughed “you’re a mess, come on idiot let’s go”
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queers-gambit · 8 months
Text
You Might Think It's Foolish
prompt: meeting your boyfriend's family for the first time creates anxiety, so, you stick to his side. at dinner, his mother calls out your clinginess - and Aemond doesn't defend you. or when someone else calls you clingy and he doesn't defend you / agrees with them.
pairing: modern!Aemond Targaryen x female!reader
fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon
word count: 3.1k+
warnings: short and to the point, angst, hurt and no comfort, drama, relationship angst, stand alone, cursing, toxic family, toxic relationship...? barely edited, author's tired of her drafts.
browse Clingy Baby collection masterlist here
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Fall. Autumn. A time of shedding the old and preparing for the new. Perhaps that was why this happened - the universe was trying to shed what was unwelcome in your life. Yet you wouldn't see it this way for several long months.
The trees grew over the winding backroads in a curved canopy; creating a golden tunnel for visitors to pass through on their way to remote destinations. You were no exception, cruising at a leisure speed while taking slow, deep breaths to attempt to soak in the beauty autumn in the Northern Hemisphere brought. It was impossible not to feel enraptured by the serenity of the country roads, music set so you could hear it but still have a conversation if you wanted.
Your passenger princess told you it was the next right.
"I can't believe we're late," you whispered, sighing in strained stress. "This is a horrible first impression, Aemond."
"We won't even be the latest," he smirked.
"Doesn't matter, it's still rude to show up when the party's already started."
"We were busy."
"You were getting a new tattoo," you deadpanned.
"Exactly as I said - busy. And you got your third ear piercing, so, I don't want t'hear it."
You swallowed, making the right turn. "That's the house?" You gawked.
"Mhm," he gazed out his window, "welcome to the Targaryen Manor, princess."
"I forget you're from old money," you muttered, finding a suitable parking space and pulling in. You gathered your belongings, including the flowers from the backseat you insisted on bringing for his mother, and vacate the car.
"You're gonna be fine," Aemond smirked, tossing his arm around your neck as you moved up the walkway. "Just be yourself, laugh at their jokes - you'll fit right in."
"I feel like I can't even afford to be here," you whispered, approaching the front door. He chuckled and took your hand, letting you squeeze it tight as he opened the door and lead you inward. "Jesus, Mary Mother, and Joseph," you gaped, eyes bugging wide as the interior.
The term "fancy" didn't even begin to cover it.
And Aemond just smirked at you, amused by your response; knowing your family grew up without money and the nicest thing you owned for years was a Wii that had been purchased from a family-friend for a third of the price. So to see you here, amongst luxury and money, was an absolute treasure to him.
However, that was short lived, because the next thing you noticed was the amount of people milling around. There was at least 13 different people in sight, and for some reason, you knew there was likely many, many more. Aemond lead you into the kitchen, and from there, you could barely keep up.
First, you met his mother, Alicent. She was a kind woman, but stoic and calculating; observant with a quick wit. She intimidated you, made you feel small, burned you under her stare; and since you were dating her favorite child, you knew she was scrutinizing you. You felt desperate for her approval, and when you offered her the large bouquet of flowers, she actually let her lips twitch in a small smile. She thanked your generosity and consideration, making you feel like you had some kind of breakthrough with her.
When Alicent went to put the flowers in water, Aemond assured he thought his mother "adored" you before introducing you to his father - the birthday boy. He was sweet; soft spoken and bright-eyed; all too happy to have a conversation with you. He asked how you and Aemond met, then what you were studying in university, if you liked it, what you wanted to do with your degree. He asked what food was your favorite, if you played sports, about your family, and if you had any hobbies. Viserys Targaryen had a kind soul, making you wonder how he and Alicent remained married.
Though they say opposites attract.
Aemond showed you around the house, stopping to introduce family members; then heading to the backyard where you were drug around to meet the hundred other family members. You were close to tears the whole time, knowing it was his father's birthday, but not knowing how bloody big his fucking family was - and that they'd all show up today. You felt blindsided, it felt like a deliberate withholding of information to convince you to come. You were under the impression it was a family dinner, but now, you understood, it was an actual celebration.
There was people everywhere you looked, everywhere you turned. Voices spoke over one another, children ran around playing tag or jumping on a trampoline; babies cried and screamed, the grill was loud with sizzling meats, and a radio played through intermittent static. Multiple dogs ran around, trailing mud everywhere, even going as far as to shake their coats out to shower bystanders. The smell of charcoal, smoke, and chlorine mingled with that tangy-good scent of BBQ; but it made your eyes sting.
It was a sensory overload.
It was a miracle you hadn't burst into tears yet, but you remained anchored to reality by maintaining a close proximity to Aemond.
You held his hand in a vice grip. You held his bicep with a curled-grip that left fingernail indentations in his skin through the fabric. You held his waist, belt loops, anything you could grab onto in a possessive grip. You constantly touched him to reassure yourself he was still with you; being your anchor to reality, tangible and real since your anxiety drowned you in a sea.
You didn't think it was an issue. Didn't think anyone would notice, so you obviously didn't think anyone would care if they DID notice. You liked touching Aemond, it kept you grounded; if someone had an issue with that, it was 100% just a personal problem. However, plenty of people did notice, and when you sat down for dinner, you were unprepared for the ambush.
Conversation was flowing; food passed around and utensils scraped plates. Drinks sweat into the table cloth, citronella candles twinkled, and laughter was in an abundance as each person found merriment in their family. You were feeling more relaxed, but the truth was, there was so many people here that you felt nauseous enough to only take a few small bites from your plate.
Aemond noticed and met your eyes, subtly opening his hand to you in an offer for comfort. You all but snatched his hand into yours, smiling in thanks as he only smirked broadly and continued eating. You tried to sample what you could, but it was impossible to stomach much of anything. You reached for your water, took a sip, and heard Alicent question your name.
When she had your attention, Alicent asked, "Have you had many boyfriends, dear?"
"Oh, no," you answered honestly, "no, I've gone on dates but Aemond's," you laid your free hand to his bicep, sliding down to take his hand with yours, "my first boyfriend."
She hummed and stabbed her fork into the salad set in front of her, muttering in a lower tone, "Then I guess I can overlook it all."
You cocked your head, setting your glass down, wondering, "Overlook what?"
"The clinginess," she shrugged, reaching for her wine glass. "You've been stuck to his side all day - never even parting to go to the restroom, it seems. So, because he's your first, I can overlook all this... For now."
Your head began to spin like in a bad cartoon. You felt your heart cement and drop to your stomach; throat swelling to suppress either sobs, vomit, or both. The entire table was quiet. "I-I'm sorry, Mrs. Targaryen," you offered in confusion. "I'm sorry if I've offended you, but it's not with malicious intent."
"No?" She mocked.
"No," your head shook vehemently. "I did not realize my actions could be interpreted negatively, and I assume you, it was not my intention to create tension."
"Oh, spare me. You haven't let go of Aemond once all night, and even now, as we all sit for family dinner, you hold his hand hostage; preventing you both from eating. Don't you think he'd like to spend time with his family without needing to make you feel included in every single thing he does or says today?"
You gulped, "I did not mean to offend you nor your family."
"It's not offensive," Helaena Targaryen, Aemond's only sister, tried to intervene. "If you feel uncomfortable in any situation, why not seek out that in which you already know helps comfort you?"
How had it come to this?
"I am not offended," Viserys croaked, "I find young love refreshing."
But this made Alicent rage, "It is offensive when you prevent Aemond from actually visiting with his family. It's his father's birthday for God's sake! We don't have an infinite number of them left! If you want to hang all over him when you're at university, fine, but when you're here? In public? Around family or elders? It's not acceptable behavior, especially when you prevent my son from participating as a member of this family."
Your mouth went dry as you remembered your parents did not raise you to ever tolerate disrespect. If someone offered insult, sure, walk away, but they also taught you to stand up for yourself in particular fights. This felt like one of those fights.
There were also vivid memories long since repressed that flashed you back to your own parents telling you, you were clingy. They didn't want you hanging off them, distracting anyone, being an overall nuisance; so they started fighting your fire with their own. They became verbally aggressive, constantly ridiculing and belittling you; attempting to keep you humble by insulting your character - saying nobody (be it man or woman) would want someone like you. Your baggage was too heavy and you knew it, your parents telling you it was why you felt the need to cling in the first place.
If you held on tight enough, the weight of your trauma would eventually anchor your person in place. It'd be too late to swim away once that anchor sunk.
You looked at Aemond, thinking he'd tell his mother to quiet down, but he never did. He just stared at the table, so, you tossed his hand into his lap - feeling disgusting by his physical touch right now.
It was evident he wasn't going to defend you, so, you defended yourself, "I know you might think it foolish, but the reason I was 'all over' your son was because I was caught off-guard by the number of family members who attended today. I was lead to believe this would be a small, intimate affair so I could properly meet his nuclear family, and when I realized that was not the case, yes, I held onto Aemond because I felt incredibly anxious. I cannot control what makes me uncomfortable, but I was expecting under ten people - not close to a hundred. So, truly, if me seeking solace with my boyfriend upsets you, I am sorry, but I will not apologize for feeling blindsided and misdirected - I will not apologize for feeling anxious and nervous amongst such a large family that I've never met before, and - "
Aemond snapped your name, silencing you instantly out of sheer shock; your eyes widening a fraction. He growled, "That's enough, do not speak to my mother like that."
"So, she's allowed to call me clingy, but I can't - "
"I told you to watch your mouth," he seethed, "and not speak to her like you just were. She made an observation - an accurate one - not out of spite, like you want to do in retaliation."
You scoffed, while glancing between mother and son, nodding slowly. You mutely used your cloth napkin to blot around your lips, swipe your tongue over your teeth as you pushed your chair back and slowly stood. "You know what? I don't need this shit. I refuse to sit here and let you speak to me as if you're holier than thou," you told Alicent, then looking to Aemond, "nor will some mama's boy gaslight me."
Helaena giggled behind her hand as you swiped your purse and phone, turned on your heel, and walked away. Aemond sighed and called your name, standing from his own chair, still trying to slow you down by calling out to you. "Aemond," Alicent snapped when he meant to move after you.
"You've done enough," he told her, jogging after your retreating form while calling your name.
"Nice one, Mum," Aegon scoffed. "That's one way to make sure he doesn't knock her up - just break them up."
"Aegon," Daeron groaned.
"What? Isn't that what she was afraid of? Aemond getting too serious with her?" Aegon snapped. "He's finally happy, and you what? Had to implode that?"
Aegon's words sunk into his mother's heart as Aemond rushed after you, nobody untouched by the things he said.
Outside, you rushed for your car while fumbling with your purse and keys. Aemond followed, still. He finally caught up when you made it to the car, his hand whipping you around to face him.
"I didn't fucking mean it," he rushed, holding you securely in his grasp. "Hear me? I didn't fucking mean it, I-I just wanted the arguing to stop, I know how Mum can get and I didn't want it to escalate. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, my love, I didn't mean it at you - I just - I panicked - I don't know why. Perhaps we're both still very green to this whole relationship thing."
"Oh! Fuck you," you snapped, pushing him off you.
"Listen to me - "
"No, you're done talking," you raged with your manicured pointer finger jabbing the air between you in a dramatic fashion. "Your mother fully insulted me in front of everyone - your entire family, whom I wasn't even aware I was meeting, nor was I even ready to meet!"
"What?"
"I was willing to meet your parents and siblings. Not your entire extended family! You meet the nuclear family first and when ready to level-up, you bring your significant other around your aunties, uncles, cousins - whatever. You ambushed me," you snapped. "You totally caught me off guard - but instead of apologizing and acknowledging my discomfort, you just carried on on your high horse. You let me hold onto you - yet there was no word about being clingy - and you even reached for my hand a few times! Yet I was the one being slandered and labeled as 'clingy'!? But you know what? That's cool, really fucking cool, that's fine. Like I said before, fuck off. I don't need to be with someone who crumples like a wet piece of paper when Mummy Dearest starts to huff and puff. I need someone who's going to tell their mother to cut it out when they're trying to wrongfully insult me - your girlfriend. Better yet? I need to be with someone whose mother doesn't start on that bullshit! That has respect! Decency! Now get the fuck away from me!"
You shoved him back a few steps to give room for you to open your car door and get in - immediately hitting the automatic locks. You started the engine, put your seatbelt on, took one last look at your first love as he tried to plea with you through the rolled up window, then shifted into gear and pulled away.
You felt your anger boil to a new height when you replayed the entire day. How dare Aemond? How dare he try to manipulate this situation? He had no right to ask you to shut the fuck up while his mother was free to run her mouth! Well, first and foremost, how fucking dare Alicent insult and challenge you in such a public setting? How in the Seven Hells had Helaena been the only one to defend you? What the hell did you even need defending against? Why did you showing affection and needing reliable support upset Alicent that much?
Your phone began to ring, and when you glanced at it, you saw Aemond's contact photo displayed on the screen. You ignored it and put your phone on airplane mode, leaving it on for now. However, after a few long moments of stressful thinking, you turned the setting off and called your sister - knowing no matter what, she'd be your rock. When she answered, you told her a simplified version of events, and at the end, your tears had been triggered and she was encouraging you to come over to her house.
You agreed, shut your phone off this time, and drove to your sister's place. When you arrived, you were shocked to find her waiting in the driveway, opening her arms with a pout when you got out of the car. "C'mere," she cooed, enveloping you in her arms when you stepped into her embrace.
"Why do boys suck?" You whimpered.
"Because that's just how they were programed," she sighed.
"Sh-She called me clingy," you managed through your tears, "his mom called me clingy, a-and Aemond d-didn't defend me. So, when I had to defend myself, he just told me to be quiet 'cause his mother wasn't wrong - or what-the-fuck-ever."
"I know, honey," she sympathized, giving you a squeeze. "What're you thinking?"
"That I can't trust someone like that," you admitted. "And if I can't trust them, why be in a relationship?"
She nodded, "I think you know what you need to do next."
"I don't want to."
"Nobody really wants to, but it's necessary," she held your phone out for you after pulling it from your back pocket. "Don't let him or his mother disrespect you - especially in front of his other family members. I mean, shit, how're you supposed to face any of them again after that?"
"Exactly, his mom didn't exactly do it in private..."
"See?" She stared at you while you sighed, shaking your head. Your sister encouraged, "Make the call. This isn't a sustainable relationship, and Aemond shouldn't have to choose his mother and his girl - so, let's just make it easy on him, and you choose. Wanna be with someone who lets his mother say shit like that to you? Who tells you to be quiet, instead of shutting down his mother's insults?"
You frowned, whispering, "I don't think this is enough to break us up. It shouldn't be, right? This shouldn't be the end-all, be-all, should it?"
"No, honey, but the disrespect cannot stand, either," she shot back. "If he felt so comfortable to say that in front of his family like that, you don't wanna know what he's gonna get comfortable doing in more private settings." Tears filled your eyes as she reminded gently, but firmly, "Make the call."
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requesting rules and masterlist
HOTD masterlist
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2K notes · View notes
adams-angels · 4 months
Note
ÓHi, could you smut Adam x fem Reader he has sex with Lucifer's wife
💖 I can certainly try! I had alot of fun writing this one idk why? I think I went slightly off topic but hopefully it's okay!💖
Revenge 😈
Adam X Lucifers wife!reader
💖 Please send me requests! Send me your own headcanons! I will draw! I'm obsessed rn!💖
Smut below the cut! Minors dni
Extermination day. Every year it's the same. Your husband always disappears a week leading up to the events and then a week after. You're already lonely since he spends most of his time making ducks. It was cute at first and now it's just annoying. You want attention. Any kind will do at this point.
You walk out onto the balcony looking down on the carnage that's destroying hell. You see a sinner nearby. "Oh, hello! Come inside you'll be sa-" a spear pierces through the being. "Shit." You grumble to yourself, leaning on the railing. "Awh, don't look so glum, slut." You didn't know why but he always visited. He'd always tease you about being alone the most dangerous time of year.
You roll your eyes at the voice. "hello, Adam." Groaning as you look up to the giant in mid flight. "What's up, babe? Luci left you alone and helpless another extermination day?" His obnoxious smile covers his face as he hovers above her. You push yourself off from the balcony railing, crossing your arms as your glare at him. "I'm not "helpless" Adam." You declare. It's true, you survived many extermination days before you married Lucifer.
"oh? What's stopping me from killing you right now then?" Adam asked, he thought he was so smart. "I don't know," you shrug. "why don't you tell me? I'm leaving myself wide open here, yet you're just..." You gesture to his body in flight. "There." He blinked. You could tell his little man brain was going into over time trying to find an excuse. "How abou- you just- argh!" He swoops down placing his hands on the railing, facing now inches apart. "Why don't you just fuck off and die!" He yelled. "Why don't you do your job and kill me?" You replied with a smirk.
He growled. "Won't your little friends be like, pissy, that you're sparing me?" You tilt your head with a smirk. "Won't your little husband be like, pissy?" You were confused. What did he mean by that? Before you knew it he closed the gap between you both and kissed you. Nothing fancy, a quick peck. He pushed himself away, both of you stared at each other like a deer in headlights.
You were only brought back to reality when Adam screamed and flapped his wings, blowing wind in your face. "AHH! FUCK YOU! WHORE- DIRTY FUCKIN- DIE, BITCH! I HATE YOU!" He yelled as he flew away, tripping on nothing as he headed back into the blood filled city. You touch your lips. Did that really just happen?
You head back into your marital bedroom. "What the fuck.." you mutter to yourself. You want to feel guilty, you really do. Lucifer is a good husband, but to be touched.. kiss. Fuck. From that moment on Adam consumed your thoughts. You longed for the next extermination day.
The year dragged. You just wanted to see Adam again. You wanted to fluster him. But the day was the day. You dressed up for it. God, it was sick you were excited for this disgusting day but it would be the only time you see him. Putting on your best little black dress you head to the balcony and wait.
The heavens open so it was only a matter of time before he'd come. At least you hoped. The day went on, you heard the screams, the pleading, the cries. All day. You usually last a couple of hours but all day was a bit much. You kicked nothing on the floor, frustrated that you let yourself believing he would return to you. You were a sinner. That's all he ever saw you as, that's all you ever will be to him.
You open the door to return to the bedroom but freeze. "Sup, sugartits." Adam. He wasn't sounding insufferable as usual. "What? Missed me?" Your turn to face him. He was right by the railing. His cocky smile was a cover up, that much you could tell. You step closer and slap him, hard. Good thing you're not a fallen angel other wise his mask would or cracked. "Hey! What the fuck was that for, bitch?!" He yelled in your face. In response you grab his collar kissing him, aggressively.
"I want you." You tell him, asserting your dominance. "O-okay.." his response surprisingly timid. You take his hand and lead him inside to your bed. Turning around a photo of Lucifer. "Yeah, that'll help with the guilt." Adam teased with a smirk, his narcissistic tone returning. "Shut up." You hiss, climbing on top of him, straddling his lap. "Mask off." "How did you kno-" "I'm not dumb, dickweed. Off."
He peels off his mask, he's a lot more handsome than you thought he was, still had that fucking grin. You move into his neck, gently kissing to gauge a reaction. You feel his member hardening underneath you. "You ready to get fucked by the first dick created, babe?"
"you know technically you're not the first dick created. You're the first human dick, sure but not the fi-" you're interrupted by his tongue down your throat. "Maybe shut up, yeah?" He mumbled in the kiss. Your tongues explored each others, as he gripped onto your hips lifting you up slightly to remove your panties to discover you're not wearing any. Pulling away from the kiss "Really? Someone's desperate?" He peppered your neck in kissed. "S-shut it."
He snaked his arms around your waist and flipped you into the bed. He towered over you. Why did God have to make the first man so tall? Hell, who are you to question?! You like it. You help him take off his robe and admire his body. It's pudgier than you were expecting, but you're not complaining. "Like what you see, sweet?"
He returned to your neck, his tongue travels from your ear down your collar bone to your chest then your nipple. Circling his tongue around it as his hardens. Taking it aggressively in his mouth as his hand travels down your body. Two of his fingers separate your folds while his middle finger prods your entrance. You can't help but gasp at his touch. He knows what he's doing.
As he inserts a single digit in your expectant cunt you can't help but reach for his hair, tugging at his locks. A grunt escapes from him. Slowly he fingers you, using his thumb to gently rub your clit. "Ah- Adam~!" You quietly moan. He releases your nipple and looks up at your desperate face. "Oh, fuck yeah, baby. Say my name." He inserts a second finger inside of you. Curling his fingers up, hitting your stop just right.
"m-more!" You demand. "What did I say?" He Purrs. "M-more, please- Adam, fuck me, please?" You beg, desperate for his cock. "Good girl." He removed his hand which causes you to whine. He adjusts himself between your legs with a smug grin. "W-what? Why do you look like that." You ask, you weren't even sure if you wanted the answer.
"just revenge is so fucking sweet, babe." He doesn't waste anymore time and thrusts himself inside of you. One hand on your waist, gripping so tightly it will leave a mark. "Fuckin' hell, ngh- y/n.." he grunts. It didn't take long before you were biting down on your arm trying to keep the noise to a minimum. He grabbed your wrist pulling it away from your mouth. "Scream for me, baby. Let everyone hear how much you love my cock." It didn't take long until you were screaming in pleasure, he threw your legs over his shoulders to get a better angle on your g-spot. He used on of his hand to hold your hip to get as deep inside of you as he could. His other hand was rubbing your clit. "A-adam, I'm close!" You exclaimed. "Then what you w-waiting for? Cum on my cock, babe." He fucked you harder not giving your a chance to lose your incoming climax. You pull yourself up, wrapping your arms around his shoulder as your walls contracted on his member. Bringing him closer to the edge. His arms wrapped around you as he continued to fuck you with mercy. "T-tell me you love me." He said. "What?" You were taken back by his request. "Tell me you love me! TELL ME YOU LOVE ME!" He repeated as his voice became more desperate. His hips bucked and his movements became sloppy as he finished inside of you. Collapsing on top of you on the bed.
His face in the nook of your neck once again. "So.... "Tell me you love me", huh?" His only reply is a groan of embarrassment.
~⁠♡✧⁠。 I really hope you enjoyed! I'm not a writer by any means but I appreciate any support I receive so thank you for reading! 。✧⁠♡~⁠
669 notes · View notes
justmystyles · 4 months
Text
The Morning After
read my other work here!
pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader
*i say it's a plus size reader, but it is not something that i focus on explicitly in my fics, because your size should not define you. it will only come up if it comes into the story organically.*
word count: 2,583
trigger warning: vomiting
summary: the morning after Harry's 30th birthday, you're hungover and Harry reminds you of your drunken actions from the night before, leading to a conversation you never expected.
a/n: i missed Harry's birthday, but I got this idea for a morning after fic, so here we are. i've been writing a few things behind the scenes, and I know i've said a few times that I was going to try to come back, but this time i mean it. i'm working on a couple of one shots, and a new series that i'm very excited about, so hopefully you'll hear more from me soon!
tags: @abby8694 @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @likeapplejuicenpeach @lilfreakjez @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat
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You open your eyes and immediately groan in pain as they meet the sunlight shining into your bedroom. You quickly shut them and pull your pillow over your face. You had promised yourself you wouldn’t go too hard last night, but Harry kept wanting to do shots, and who were you to deny the birthday boy? 
It was your best friend, Harry’s 30th birthday party, and he spared no expense. The room was packed with his closest family and friends, including a long list of famous faces. There was loud music, dancing, tons of food, and of course, alcohol. As with most parties, Harry barely let you out of his sight, and any time a tray of shots went past him he’d grab one for each of you. You lost count after a while, and truthfully, you aren’t really sure how you ended up at home and in your bed. You assumed Harry had something to do with it. You rarely got drunk, but when you did Harry was always very protective and caring, even if he was two sheets to the wind himself. 
The ringing of your doorbell, followed by the incessant knocking at your door feel like a thousand nails being hammered into your head. You groan, but know it isn’t going to stop until you answer the door. You throw your legs over the side of your bed and sit still for a moment, working up the energy to stand and walk to the front door. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a full glass of water and a couple of aspirin, sitting on top of the note: 
For the lightweight in my life. 
xH
A small smile plays on your lips at the note, combined with the thoughtfulness of your best friend. You take the pills and drink the entire glass of water before standing and making your way to the front door. You are immediately met with Harry’s infuriatingly handsome face, a wide grin plastered across it as if last night never happened. 
“Took you long enough.” He says in a bright, teasing tone. You immediately bring your hand to your forehead, the voice that usually causes butterflies in your stomach piercing right through your brain. “Rough night?” He asks knowingly. 
You flip him off before stepping aside to let him in. “How can you possibly be this okay right now?” You ask in disbelief as you shuffle to the couch, collapsing onto your back and resting your arm across your eyes. “I’m not just okay, I’m great!” He lifts your feet up and sits on the couch, placing your legs down in his lap. “I’ve been up for hours, went on a nice run, got some shopping done. It’s been quite a productive day.” 
You pull the pillow out from under your head and throw it at him. He catches it with ease and chuckles at your meek sign of aggression. 
The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a few moments before you finally speak up. “I’m not going to be a fun hang today, just so you know.”
Harry chuckles and shakes his head. “You never are, why would today be any different?” He jokes. You move your arm away from your eyes and look up at him, narrowing your gaze. 
He lets out a loud laugh and holds his hands up defensively. “Just kidding! You know you’re my favorite.” He leans over and boops your nose. A sign of affection the two of you often share. 
You smirk and shake your head as it falls back on the couch. “Did you have fun last night?” 
“So much fun, the party was amazing!” Harry beams. “I got to see so many people that I hadn’t seen in a while. But you know what my favorite part was?” 
You groan in reply, signaling for him to continue, your eyes closed to block the sunlight. 
He turns to look at your face, his expression and tone softening. “At the end of the night, when we were saying goodbye to everyone and you kissed me…”
It feels as though time stands still. The nausea and pain from the hangover immediately replaced by panic and shock. You sit up straight and look at him with a furrowed brow. “Kissed… like kissed kissed?” 
He grins and nods. “A proper kiss, tongue and everything.” 
Your face immediately turns a bright shade of crimson and your eyes go wide. You’d had more than friendly feelings for Harry for a while, but you were certain those feelings would never be returned. He always introduced you to his superstar, super skinny girlfriends, so you always felt your thick thighs and big stomach were far from his type. You’d much rather spend your life hiding your feelings and having him in your life as a friend than to tell him how you feel and end up losing him because those feelings weren’t returned. 
“Harry, I am so sorry… I was drunk… I don’t even remember it happening… I…” You panic and begin to ramble out an apology. 
“Hey hey hey,” he interrupts you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You have nothing to apologize for. I was glad that you kissed me. It was nice, I felt… wanted.”
You scoff slightly. “You’re one of the most wanted men in the world, you don’t need a sloppy drunk kiss for that.”
“But I liked feeling wanted by you. You didn’t want Harry Styles, famous pop star. You wanted me, just regular Harry.” 
“Just regular Harry is my favorite person.” You say in a soft, caring tone. 
“I know he is, that’s why I enjoyed that kiss so much. And it got me wondering…” He trails off, thinking of the best way to bring up what he wants to say. “They often say people are their most honest selves when they’re drunk, so I was wondering if that kiss meant anything to you? Like if maybe you were thinking of me as more than just a friend…” 
Your hangover mixed with the anxiety of being called out for your secret feelings causes your nausea to return. You immediately start stuttering. “What? I… you’re my best friend! We aren’t… I don’t…”
Harry reaches out, gently cupping your cheeks in his hands. “Shhh, it’s okay. We’re always going to be best friends, I promise.” He assures you, his eyes staring deep into yours. “Do you want to know what I wished for last night when I blew out my candles?” 
You shake your head slowly, your mind racing and your stomach churning too much to actually be able to form words. 
“The same thing I’ve wished for every birthday since you came into my life. For you to see me as more than your best friend, for you to want me even half as much as I want you.” 
Your breath hitches at his words, you study his expression and see love, adoration, vulnerability in his eyes. Before you can respond, you feel the nausea taking over. You push out of Harry’s arms and run to the bathroom, You drop to your knees just in time to empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet. 
Harry is right behind you, kneeling down next to you, pulling your hair back with one hand, and rubbing your back in soothing circles with the other. “Shh, you’re okay Y/N, just let it out. You’ll feel so much better when it’s over.” 
When you’re finally finished throwing up you shift so that you;re sitting on the floor, your back resting against the wall. Harry grabs a washcloth and runs it under the water before bringing it to you and dabbing it on your forehead. “You know, you could have just said no. It doesn’t do great things for one’s self esteem to have a girl vomit the moment you declare your love for her.” He says with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. 
You let out a small, weak chuckle. “Harry, I…” You whisper. 
“It’s just a joke, love. Let’s not talk about it right now, let me just take care of you, yeah?” He says kindly, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear as you nod in reply. “Good girl, now what do you need?” 
“Toothbrush…” 
He nods, and places a kiss on your forehead before standing up and getting your toothbrush, he puts a bead of toothpaste on it and kneels back down handing it to you. “Go easy, you don’t want to start anything back up.”
You look at him gratefully as you begin brushing your teeth. He watches on, as he strokes your hair to comfort you. 
“Is it weird that I think you look cute when you’re sick?” He asks, looking at you fondly. 
You let out a soft chuckle and shake your head as you continue to brush your teeth. 
His smile grows at the sound of your laugh. “I love that laugh, I’m glad I was able to get it out of you even when you’re feeling like this.” He’s silent for a moment before speaking up again. “I hate that you don’t feel good, but I love being able to take care of you. Especially when you’re so vulnerable like this, it shows how much you trust me, and that means everything to me.”
You look up at him as you brush your teeth, hoping your expression conveys all of the love and gratitude in your heart at that moment. You slowly stand up and make your way to the sink, where you spit and rinse. 
Harry is quick to get up and stand beside you, he takes in your blotchy complexion and messy hair, and it’s clear that you’ve still got a long way to go before you’re back to normal. “Still not feeling so great?”
You shake your head. “I told you I wasn’t going to be a good hang…”
Harry chuckles. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m having a blast! C’mon, let’s get you back to bed.” He moves to put his arms around you as if he’s going to try to lift you.
“Harry, what are you doing?” You step back from his arms. 
“I’m carrying you to bed.” He says, confused. He thought it was pretty clear what he was doing. 
“I can walk, it’s fine. Nobody wins if you try to carry me.”
He furrows his brow and tilts his head. “What do you mean, nobody wins?”
You sigh, hating that you have to spell it out for him. “You’re not going to be able to lift me. You’re going to feel bad because you were wrong, and I won’t even be able to gloat about being right because I’ll feel bad about being fat.” 
“Hey,” Harry says sternly. “I told you never to say that about yourself.” You had always been self-deprecating, and Harry hated it. He wished you could see yourself the way he did, because he saw you as absolutely perfect and beautiful. 
You look down, embarrassed about the slip of the tongue. You had stopped saying it in front of Harry, but you hadn’t stopped believing it, so in your weakened state, you had let it slip my mistake. 
Harry slides a finger under your chin and lifts your gaze. “How about this? Let me try, if I can’t carry you to bed, I’ll clean up your whole apartment while you sleep. If I can, you have to cuddle in bed with me all day. Deal?” 
You roll your eyes and sigh, knowing he’s not going to let this go. “Fine.” 
Harry grins triumphantly and scoops you up with ease, carrying you bridal style down the hall and to your room, where he places you gently on the bed. He tucks you in before moving to the other side and slipping in next to you. “Told you so.” He says smugly. 
“Nobody’s ever been able to do that before.” You say in awe. 
He smiles and pulls you into him, laying your head on his chest. “I bet I can name three more things nobody else can do for you…” He kisses the top of your head. 
“Try me,” you mumble as you snuggle closer to him. 
“I can make you laugh when you’re at your worst, I can calm you down when you’re spiraling, and I can make you turn that adorable shade of red when I get flirty with you.” He chuckles. 
You sigh and nod your head against his chest, agreeing to all three statements. 
He squeezes you a little tighter, one hand coming up to stroke your hair. “And you do all those things for me. That’s why I think we’d be so amazing together. We bring out the best in each other, and provide comfort and support at our worst. I can’t think of anything more important in a relationship.” 
I hum thoughtfully, tears welling in my eyes at his words. He’s right, of course you’ve seen it all along, but the fact that he sees it too is overwhelming. I tilt my head and lock eyes with him. 
When he sees your watery eyes, his expression drops. “Oh, Y/N I’m sorry if I said too much. Nothing has to change if you don’t want it to, I promise. Just don’t cry, okay?” He reaches down to cup your cheek, wiping a stray tear away with his thumb. 
You shake your head rapidly. “No no no, I just… I never thought I’d hear you say this kind of stuff to me. I agree with you completely.”
Harry’s breath hitches at your words, a wide grin spreads across his face. “Yeah?” You grin back and nod your head. “So you’d be willing to give us a shot… as more than friends?” 
“Definitely.” You say without hesitation. 
He smiles softly and strokes your cheek with his thumb. “I really want to kiss you, but I’m afraid you’ll throw up again, and my ego can’t take it.” He says lightheartedly. 
You giggle softly. “I get it. It’s okay, I feel too gross to kiss anyone right now anyway.” 
“What can I do for you right now?” 
“Um… I actually think I want to take a shower, but I can do that on my own.” 
Harry arches a brow and smirks slyly at you. “You sure I can’t help you?” 
You chuckle and slap his chest playfully. “Positive, you perv.”
“Fine, fine… how about this? While you shower, I’ll make you some breakfast, to help your tummy.” He runs his fingers through your hair, wanting nothing more than to take care of you. 
You smile and blush. “You don’t have to do that…”
“You’re my girl,” he pauses, letting the gravity of his words sink in, you both smile dreamily at each other. “It’s my job to take care of you.” 
“Your girl…” You sigh. 
He smiles as he stares down at your dreamy expression. “You alright?” 
“Yeah… actually, I’m suddenly feeling much better.” 
Harry chuckles, kissing you on the forehead. “Good, well you go shower and I’ll make you a nice breakfast, we’ll get you back to normal in no time.
You roll out of bed and make your way to the door. You throw one more glance over your shoulder, smiling softly at Harry. When your eyes meet, he blows you a kiss. In that moment, he can’t help but think that thirty could be his best year yet. 
599 notes · View notes
mickandmusings · 16 days
Text
love you, miss you, mean it
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*this is a two part series, read part two here!*
**I recommend listening to 'love you, miss you, mean it' by luke bryan. it's a slight inspiration for this story and it's part two. (sorry, my southern roots are showing oops) **
pairing: bob floyd x f!kazansky!reader
word count: 2.6k
summary: before the daggers, before the uranium mission, before even top gun and 'bob', there was just young bobby floyd, finding himself at the doorstep of the kazansky household, year after year, finding family between a father and daughter, and a new understanding of true love.
(based off a request, but i'll post it when i'm finished with both parts, it will give too much away! <3)
warnings: lots of sticky sweet fluff, I accidentally made Ice a single dad??, 'Bobby' as Bob's civilian name, most likely military inaccuracies
-
The very first time Bob Floyd found himself standing on the Kazansky's front door, he was seventeen years old. He had parked his hand-me-down pickup truck on the street in front of the house, crossed the yard in record time, and rang the doorbell. He was standing on the welcome mat in a spiffy black tux, his sweaty palms clutching a plastic box that contained a corsage made of light purple flowers. Bob had no idea what kind of flowers they were, more than happy to leave that to the florist, but he knew they were the same color as the bowtie that seemed to be choking him. He was incredibly nervous, pushing his glasses up his nose in a repetitive nervous habit. His sapphire eyes caught a tall shadow approaching the door, and Bob felt his spine straighten, his heart hammering in his chest. Bob had heard the stories of Admiral Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky, US Pacific Fleet Commander (and more importantly, Y/N's dad) but now, as Iceman stared down at him, he began to realize he certainly lived up to his callsign.
The Admiral's eyes were a cool blue, piercing through the teenage boy's frame as he looked him up and down. He had seemingly only just arrived home from work, still in his Navy attire. His well-pressed, wrinkle-free Navy uniform made him appear taller than he was, a looming presence that demanded respect. The flat, stoic look on his face seemed permanent, only cutting into a small upturn as he spoke.
"You must be the Bobby I keep hearing about."
Bob nods, letting out a measly, "Yes sir," before sticking out a clammy hand to shake Y/N's father's hand.
The Admiral shakes his hand with a firm grip, squeezing Bob's hand so tightly that Bob swore his blood flow had been cut off. Finally, he opened the front door wider to allow Bob in, speaking as he shut the door back into the frame.
"You should probably take a seat, get comfortable. She's been giggling upstairs for hours now, but I doubt she's ready. You'll get used to it, waiting around until she's ready."
Bob chuckles nervously, sitting stiffly on the couch as he watches the Admiral stomp about the kitchen, seemingly making a cup of coffee. The silence is deafening, Bob is too nervous to say anything, but the man's booming voice soon cuts the quiet with ease.
"So, Bobby, Y/N says you're a military brat too, is that right?"
"Uh, y-yes sir, my father, he's in the service as well, my grandfather was too, sort of the Floyd family legacy."
The Admiral nods, absorbing the information.
"What about you, do you have any plans to-"
"Dad!" Y/N's annoyed voice broke the Admiral's sentence. Her heels clack down the wooden stairs, her dress whooshing in the wind created by her motion. Bob turned his attention in the direction of her voice, standing promptly, his jaw dropping as he took in the sight of Y/N. She was dazzling in her pastel purple gown, a slight smile on her face as she spoke. "Stop trying to recruit my prom date."
Y/N and her father shared a look, seemingly speaking without having to say a word before she broke out into a smile, matching the wide toothy grin of her father, before turning back to Bob, a slight pink blush forming across her cheeks. Bob blushed as he saw her walk into the room, making his way over to her.
"Y-You look," Bob swallows thickly, gaining his confidence. "You're beautiful."
Y/N blushes fiercely, straightening the lavender bowtie around Bob's neck.
"You clean up pretty well yourself."
The teenagers' awkward gazing is cut off by Ice clearing his throat loudly, his mug of coffee in his hand as he approached them.
"C'mon, kid. Your grandparents'll kill me if I don't get a thousand pictures of you two before you leave."
Y/N cut her eyes at Bob as he stuck his arm out for her to take, helping her over the threshold of the door and into the yard, the Admiral standing in front of them with his camera ready. They all went through the motions of a typical prom photo shoot-the corsage exchange, the awkward photos in front of the house, the send off.
Finally, she and Bob were down the road in his truck, Y/N smiling in his passenger seat, Bob's shoulders much more relaxed, not feeling nearly as tense in the presence of her looming father.
"Sorry about my dad," Y/N speaks over the music playing in the truck, squeezing Bob's hand where their hands intertwined on the console. "He's just a little protective, and, not very good at small talk." She chuckles lightly.
"No, no, it's fine. He was nice. Intimidating for sure, but nice. Made a joke that you take too long to get ready for everything."
"Of course he did," Y/N smiled and rolled her eyes, leaning her head on Bob's arm. The high school juniors had been dating for a little over six months, but both of them were head-over-heels.
The couple arrived and carried on as usual for teenagers on a prom night-mingling with their mutual friend and indulging on PTO-mom made snacks. As the night wrapped up, the last slow song of the night had Bob and Y/N swaying under the sparkling disco ball in the middle of the gym. Bob's tux jacket had been discarded on a chair hours ago, accompanied by Y/N's heels, both tossed about carelessly in favor of running back to the dance floor. Her head rested on his chest, his hands around her waist sweetly. Neither of them were paying much attention to the song playing, or the other numerous couples swaying next to them. Bob's blue orbs were focused entirely on the girl looking up at him from his chest, his hand moving to brush stray curls that had fallen in her eyes. As he looked at her face, his chest filled with warmth, a funny feeling erupting, one he had never felt before. His eyebrows furrowed, his forehead creasing.
"What's the matter, B?" Her voice came soft, just loud enough for both of them to hear.
"I love you," It came out blunt and honest, with no hesitation. Neither of them had said it before, and he watched as Y/N's face went from one of confusion to one of pure elation, a wide grin forming on her face as Bob lightly pulled her closer, their lips meeting in a kiss more meaningful than their previous ones.
That night, when Bob dropped her off back at her house, with the figure of her father sitting in their living room, he smiled as he helped her out of the truck and closed the door behind her. He walked her to the front door and kissed her again before saying goodnight, a permanent smile etched on his face. He watched her get into the house and waited for the porch light to turn off before peeling out of the driveway, his face aching from his never ending smile.
When he got into his own house for the night, his tux coat thrown over his shoulder, bowtie undone and his feet aching in his dress shoes, he collapsed onto his bed with a content sigh. His phone dinged with a new message, and he smiled as he saw Y/N's name flash across the screen. He opened it quickly:
I love you, too. I miss you already. Mean it.
A blush sprouted across his fair skin, typing back a reply as his heart soared.
-
Over the next few years, Bob found himself on the Kazansky doorstep hundreds of more times-weekend dates, barbecues, birthdays, study dates, movie nights, senior prom, just because, forgetting his house keys in Y/N's room, graduation parties, the list could go on and on forever. He had grown to find the Kazansky household his second home, Iceman's walls slowly melting towards the awkward boy his daughter loved. Y/N's father would allow him to stay over on long weekends and holidays through her first years of college and his of the Naval Academy, letting Bob tag along for family vacations. Bob slowly became an extension of the Kazansky family. Bob learned lots about the Admiral during his days and weeks of being in their home. Iceman loved things that made him seem less and less intimidating from when they first met. Tom Kazansky loved to make homemade banana bread, could often be found dozing off with a book in his hand, leaned back in the recliner closest to the front door, and the Admiral loved rom-com movies with a fierceness only championed by his own daughter. The father and daughter were a well-oiled machine, understanding each other in a way that Bob had never seen before. Bob would observe as the duo would work in fluid motion in the kitchen cooking dinner-knowing what each other was thinking without having to say a word. Y/N tossing her father spices and seasonings as he lifted the spoon to her mouth, and Iceman knowing just how she liked her coffee, her tea, and her favorite shape of ice. They knew one another inside and out, something Bob would often sit in awe of. It was a true display of love for one another, so loved that you know everything about someone, you know what they need without having to say a word.
When Bob had visited the Kazansky's over his final Christmas break from the Academy, he had expected the feeling of closeness and familial love. He found himself in the kitchen with Y/N, an Elvis Christmas record spinning in the living room adjacent. He wordlessly handed her the spoon from the pot he was stirring, her lips pursing as she thought for a moment, handing him a container of salt and other seasonings she knew were needed for the soup. Bob wordlessly adds an estimated amount in the pot before he stops abruptly, realizing what had just happened. His heart hammers, he and Y/N had been dating for nearly five years now, his time at the Academy coming to an end. They had suffered through nearly four years of a long distance relationship-he in Maryland at the Naval Academy, her attending college back in their hometown. They had made it through with phone calls and even letters, long lonely days and nights, and a love for one another that defied odds. He stopped stirring promptly, looking as Y/N was pressing cookie dough onto a pan, her eyes looking up at him.
"B? What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost." She smiled at him sweetly, wiping off her hands before placing them on his cheeks. "Do you feel okay? You're really red, you're warm. Do you think you're coming down with a cold?"
Bob couldn't make his dry mouth form many words, finally sputtering out a single sentence:
"I-I need to talk to your Dad."
Y/N's eyebrows furrow, looking at her boyfriend incredulously, as if he had grown another head.
"Um, okay? He's in his office. Bobby, are you okay?"
Bob nodded, leaning down to place a kiss on her head before racing off to the office on the second floor. Y/N only shook her head and continued making her cookies.
Bob knocks on the heavy office door, waiting for a response.
"It's open," Iceman's voice sounds from behind the thick mahogany colored door. Bob creaks open the door, Ice's cool eyes softening as he sees Bob enter.
"She drive you out of the kitchen already, Bob?" His voice was laced with humor. "She's too much like me, taking control of every situation. Sorry."
Bob laughs, "No sir, I just, needed to talk to you."
Ice narrows in on Bob's firmly serious expression, leaning back in his chair and looking at the boy man in front of him. Bob had grown up in the past few years, taller and more muscular thanks to the Academy. He only wore his glasses when required by the military, often opting for contacts when he was home, giving him a more mature look.
"What can I do for you, son?"
Bob's heart hammered in his chest. Was he planning on doing this now? No-he had planned for a lovely dinner, perhaps a walk on the beach before he did all of this. He had certainly, at least, planned on finishing the Academy before all of this, but after their interaction in the kitchen, the complete domesticity of it, paired with his overwhelming love for her, he knew now was the right time.
"Mr. Kazansky-"
Tom interrupts him, shaking his head in a good-natured manner. "How many times have I told you to call me Iceman, or Tom? I've known you for half a decade, I don't think the formalities are necessary."
Bob nods, understanding the man's warmth, but this was different.
"Any other time before this, and after this, sir, absolutely. But I'm coming to you for matters that pertain to Y/N, and I want this to be as respectful as possible."
Tom nods curtly, appreciating Bob's respectful nature, hands meeting in his lap as Bob speaks.
"Sir, I-," Bob swallows. He thought about this conversation a million times over and over as he stared at his ceiling at the Academy every night. "I love your daughter. I have for five years now. She is infinitely kind, and overwhelmingly beautiful. She's far too smart for me to keep up with most days, and she makes even my worst days bright. I think that's truly a testament to your parenting, she's the most headstrong yet considerate person I know. She loves fiercely, and looks after those she loves with the same fervor. She knows me unlike anyone else, and she's quickly become my feeling of home. Her music has taken over my truck, my headphones, and my inner thoughts. Her favorite movies have become part of my repertoire, and her favorite books sit next to mine on a bookcase in my room. Her things are scattered all over my apartment, and she is seeped into my every thought. When something good happens, she's the first person I want to call. When something bad happens, she's the first person I want to call. I want to spend the rest of my life with her by my side. I know this is sort of sudden, but I've spent every night for a year thinking about this, and I-I would like to marry Y/N. I graduate from the Academy in less than six months, and I'll be in aviation school, and I just-I want her to know she's a priority for my future. If I have your blessing, I would like to ask her before I go back to the Academy."
Tom's head nods, standing from his chair behind the desk, causing Bob to stand, Tom's palm meeting his in a handshake, a sign of respect. He suddenly pulls Bob into a hug, a tightness that is only matched by Y/N herself, the infamous Kazansky suffocating hug.
"You've got my blessing, kid."
Bob nods in understanding, pausing as he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. He smiles lightly at Y/N's name and several emojis beside her name on the screen.
It's lonely down here. :( Love you, miss you, mean it.
He smiles at their simple loving joke that had survived from when she had first said it years ago. He pockets his phone again, looking up at Iceman with a newfound confidence.
"Thank you, Ice, sincerely. Y/N means more to me than I feel like I could express in words."
Tom's face breaks out into a smile, his eyes twinkling with something that might have been the beginning of tears, but that's yet to be confirmed. He lightly slapped a hand on Bob's shoulder.
"For what it's worth, you've got my permission. But it's not mine that matters, kid, it's hers."
-
part two out now!
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fandoms--fluff · 8 months
Note
Hi, I love your writing! I was wondering if you could do more of Katherine and Elijah with a baby - maybe the rest of the family find out or something? There’s no rush to do this but if you could that would be great <3
Our Sweet Baby
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Flufftober, October 11th
Baby female Mikaelson reader x Katherine Pierce x Elijah Mikaelson
Warnings: none
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"Nik, Bekah, you guys have to come with me right now. You'll never believe what I just saw" Kol rushes into the living room, not even closing the front door.
"What did you do now?" Klaus glares, while Rebekah rolls her eyes. All she asks is for one day of peace with none of her brothers barging in and ruining it.
"Nothing! I only saw something that if I told you what, then you wouldn't believe me. So come on, get up off your butts and follow me" Kol explains, both his siblings hearing the whining in his voice.
"Fine, but it better be good" Rebekah sighs and gets up off the couch, answering for her and Klaus.
It's Klaus' turn to roll his eyes, but follows his younger siblings anyway. Might as well see what Kol is yammering on about.
They follow the youngest sibling, ending up on a street right out of town. They're in front of a house, and they look over at the smiling baby brother.
"And we're in front of a random house. Kol?" Rebekah sighs, crossing her arms over her chest. "Just look through the window, and see what's going on in there" Kol points to the big window.
Kol walks up to behind the massive bush in front of said window, and the siblings follow him, exasperated. "Look!" Kol whispers excitedly. Klaus and Rebekah look through the window and their eyes shoot wide open at what's playing out in the house.
In the living room, Elijah is cradling a baby, 8 months old at the most from what they can tell.
Elijah looks down at you in his arms, and softly smiles as he walls around the living room. You're big eyes look around your surroundings before giggling and nuzzling your head into his chest.
He softly smiles and kisses the top of your head. His arms secure you tightly to his chest, making you snuggle up to your Dada.
"My sweet girl" he whispers before sitting on one of the navy coloured couches.
"What the bloody hell" Klaus says. And as if it can get any weirder and more confusing, Katherine freakin Pierce walks into the room. She obviously came from another part of the house. The kitchen is a good bet because she's holding a baby bottle filled with milk about halfway.
Katherine walks over to her husband and daughter and sits next to them. Elijah and her had gotten married long before you were born. 1958 to be exact. They've kept it a secret and killed anyone who had found out about it. You were definitely a surprise, but a great thing that happened.
"You want to feed baby girl?" Katherine smiles. You turn your gaze over to your Mama, hearing her voice. You immediately coo, and reach out the best you can for your Mama.
"Well, I think we know the answer, don't we?" Elijah passes your over to Katherine. "Hey, sweetie, you wanted Mama?" She hands Elijah the bottle, which he takes. And she adjusts you to cradle against her chest. You babble along to your parents, having no clue what their on about.
Elijah hands Katherine the bottle back when she's ready, and wraps his arm around her shoulders, having her leant against his side comfortably.
Kol, Klaus and Rebekah watch as Katherine feeds you your bottle, and Elijah watching you and Katherine with adoration in his eyes.
"Now are you guys glad you came with me?" Kol turns to them, smile lighting up his face, knowing what his siblings answers are even though they won't say it out loud.
"What are we going to do about this?" Rebekah says. "Without killing anyone please" she glares at Klaus, knowing his thoughts about Katherine.
"I'm sure they wouldn't mind visitors now would they?" Klaus smirks after a minutes of silence. "Great idea" Kol says, already walking up to the front door. Either way, if his siblings cared or not (which they obviously do), he would've disturbed his big brother and his apparent wife and child anyways.
He knocks a couple times, Klaus and Rebekah aside him.
Elijah gets up carefully from the couch, as your almost asleep, and heads over to the front door. When he opens it, he's not expecting to see his siblings on the other side.
He swears under his breath, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. This is going to be one hell of a thing to explain to his siblings without having zero death in the process.
Why just why did his siblings have to bud in his business now, why not during any other time. This is going to be a long day.
"If it makes you feel better, we didn't just barge in" Kol says, cheeky smile on his face. "Kol" Elijah sighs and looks at his younger siblings.
"When exactly were you going to tell us you have a child, Elijah?" Klaus asks, face stone cold.
Katherine's eyes widen and she freezes when she hears his voice, and other voices as well. Before she can unfreeze and even think of what to do, Elijah walks back into the room with his three siblings following behind him.
She has no idea what to do, Klaus, her technically brother in law, is standing across the room along with Rebekah and Kol. He's wanted to kill her ever since she ran away from him the day she found out about the moonstone and his true purpose for her.
"Do not worry, they're not here to cause any harm" Elijah stands beside where she's sitting with your now sleeping form in her arms. He sets a glare on Klaus. Not any glare he'd give kol for disrupting something, but a death cold glare that no one dares crossing him, even Klaus, when he's smart of course. And right now he's definitely going to be smart. He's never seen Elijah this serious in his entire life, and that says something.
He slowly starts explaining what has been happening in his 'secret life' that kol called when he first starts. As he goes deeper in, Katherine explains some things as well. She feels a bit better now, knowing Klaus is standing down and only listening, not planning to do anything. And Elijah's right beside to protect her if the time comes.
The explaining goes smoothly. No one's hurt, and you haven't woken. The only thing that happens next is Rebekah asking to hold you.
She's always wanted kids, and since being turned, it has been snatched away from her, but she still dreams about having kids. When Elijah and Katherine both slowly nod, having a discussion with their eyes, Katherine stands.
Rebekah walks over to her and carefully takes you into her arms. Her grin is large as she holds you against her chest.
"I think we can manage, for now" Elijah looks over at both Klaus and Kol, who are still on the other side of the room.
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mechaknight-98 · 2 months
Text
Aftermath (NSFW) FT Sejeong
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Authors note: had to do a bit of world building as I try to figure out what the world looks like now that I don't want to use Karina or Jiyho anymore due to the dating thing…it would be weird ya know.
"Hey, Danger can I ask you something," Seji asks me with a clear and concerned tone,
"Yeah, sure," I answer hesitantly. Sejeong smiles brightly.
"Why did you run away from me," She asks. I bite the inside of my cheek as I consider my response.
"I figured it would be better than dealing with any of the repercussions of my feelings. I have a limited time left to live and I didn't want to put anyone through the sorry of losing someone they care about. So I figured dipping before that would be a cleaner cut-off than this going too deep instead," I reply
"You coward," Sejeong teases.
"I...yeah you're right. I should have let you choose," I reply
"At least you're a reasonable coward," Seji teases further
I squint at her causing her to smile wide, "I am not a coward, nor am I reasonable," I reply. Seji beams
"Oh really and why don't you think so," Sejeon asks sternly.
"You'll see soon enough," I replied.
Three weeks later Sejeong bought my little photo studio and shop. she was okay with not paying rent as long as I became her "personal photographer", and so I went with her all on these trips and events to snap pictures of the beautiful girl, but honestly she used it as an excuse to relentlessly fuck. I would spend hours cutting angles and working on shop composition to make sure the photos were perfect, and looking at her face always led to a visceral response. I'd be hard for hours, and like clockwork, she'd come into my office give me a warm-up blowjob then have it lead right into mindblowing sex.
As I worked on photos there was a knock on the door. I assume it's Sejeong as she's the only one who comes in here typically. The door opens to a tall dark-skinned man he smiles at me with malicious intent.
“Well, I didn't think I'd ever see you again,” he says as aggression rises in his tone.
“What do you want Alistair,” I ask
“Oh remember call me AL or Tahm,” Alistair replies
“Oh well you know I'm just checking in on my favorite curse bearer. I truly thought you'd come hunting for me, but you never did. I wanted to know why, but you were hard to find. When you said I want to disappear I guess you meant it,” Alistair adds.
“Are you here to kill me, because if so I'm not going down without a fight,” I reply
“What heavens no! I'm here to give you something you want more. Freedom,” Alistair replies.
“What is the catch,” I ask.
“No catch at least this time. I can't beat the curse bearer chasing me as he is using holy relics, but you have a myriad of experience so I figured I'd make a deal,” Alistair answered.
I look at the photo on my desk of Sejeong and I, “Fine I’ll draw up the contract.” I reply
30 minutes later I procured a draft of the deal between Alistair and me. He's excited as deals are like his favorite thing to make something about the ability to bind and
Making rules that can't be broken makes him feel safe. After we sign he smiles and hands me my Maxos Cards. I look at him surprised
“Why,” I asked
“I am asking you to hunt someone using holy weapons and not give you your best tools against holy weapons. I'd be a fool, besides I have to give them back to you anyway.” Alistair replies nonchalantly. I nod and grab them.
“So where was the last reported location of this curse bearer,” I ask
"So there I was, in Minnesota of all places, following leads to my ex, Janie. The trail led me to a scene that raised my concerns: golden ichor staining the ground. I knew this was about to get more complicated. As I concealed myself, the door creaked open, accompanied by ominous sounds of groans and a knife piercing the wall.
"Step out from your hiding spot," a familiar voice demanded. I cautiously emerged, armed with my card and sword, only to face Janie.
"Dangerfield? Of course, he'd send you," Janie muttered with evident annoyance.
"What brings you here?" she interrogated, her accusatory tone emphasizing the revelation that my ex was now a full-blown witch, a fact I was still processing.
"I'm here for the holy weapon, nothing more," I asserted, my mind grappling with the revelation of Janie's newfound identity.
"And what were you promised in return?" Janie probed further.
"Freedom," I replied succinctly.
"Freedom? From whom?" Janie's disbelief was palpable.
"Alastair," I confessed, bracing myself for her reaction.
"Alastair? Did you strike a deal with him? You're unbelievable," Janie's frustration simmered.
"He promised Morrigan would leave me alone," I explained, hoping to justify my actions.
"You never think, do you? Your recklessness causes chaos for everyone," Janie scolded, her frustration evident.
"I'm only here for the weapon. Give it to me, and I'll leave," I urged, attempting to end the confrontation.
Janie's gaze hardened as she considered my request. "What if I refuse?" she challenged, prompting me to reveal my trump card - my maxos card.
Her eyes widened at the sight. "You wouldn't dare," she uttered, realizing the seriousness of my intent.
Taking a defensive stance I watched as Janie's eyes widened
With a mixture of resignation and menace, Janie relented, handing over the holy weapon. "You'll regret this, selling out a friend for your gain," she admonished.
"If I were truly betraying you, I'd have handed you over to Alastair," I retorted, stowing away the cards.
"This is why I despise dealing with your kind," Janie spat bitterly.
"Careful now, insults might provoke me to take action," I teased, though the underlying tension remained palpable.
"Pathetic," Janie scoffed, as I left her house, her warning lingering in the air.
Returning to Alastair, I handed him the weapon, cautioning him against its use.
"Why not?" he inquired, intrigued by my warning.
"It's not just holy; it's a fusion of divine and demonic energies, a result of a battle between a demon and an angel," I explained,
"so why is the blade okay with you," Alastair asked
"Because I am Fomori," I answered.
"Oh...Interesting," Alastair said. Alastair's grin widened at the revelation. "Morrigan's favored, no wonder you sought to disappear quietly," he mused, anticipating the chaos to come as he reveled in it.
"I look forward to seeing the next part of your tale," Alastair replies. "Our deal is done," He says calmly as he conjures two contracts that burn themselves up before me. I feel the burden of my curse lift and Alastair smiles.
"I look forward to the damage you will cause. That will be more interesting than anything I could ever do with such a weapon. I see it has bound itself to your soul so using it would only garner your strength." Alastair adds. I shrug at his point to which he smiles.
The next day I arrived at my office to see a pouting Sejeong
"Hey, Seji. are you ok..." Before I could finish she had me cornered in a kiss.
"I got your not but I was worried sick for you," She replied. As she she ran her arms through my body she gasped,
"You're curse-free," she exclaimed with surprise.
"Yeah," I nodded.
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the-kr8tor · 16 days
Text
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Autumn of '88
Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader
Word count: 3.8k
Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), Hobie is mentioned taller than R, Reader and Hobie are 13/14 in this, Puppy love, TTN! Reader and Hobie, set in the TTN universe, best friends to lovers (prequel to TTN), CW food mentions, Fluff.
A/N: This is the last of the 1k celebration fics! Thank you all so much ❤️❤️❤️
Thread the Needle Masterlist
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Head on your palm, heavy eyes slowly closing with every dreary words that your biology teacher says, you fight a yawn from escaping since the last time someone yawned in front of Mrs. Weathers they got kicked out of class. But with the boring subject about symbiotic relationships in the wild, that you most definitely already know since you did the advanced reading, you're tempted to yawn loudly and widely just so you could escape from this biology hell.
The air is crisp, October air breezing through you from the open window to your left. Clad in your cardigan and yellow corduroy pants, the cold still seeps into the thick fabrics. It's a comfortable cold but with you sitting still for more than an hour without stretching your limbs has you freezing in your seat.
You risk getting called out by Mrs. Weathers if she notices you looking out of the window for even a second. But you are so bored out of your mind that you'd rather stare at the oak tree outside than continue to listen to her yapping about symbiosis. Having the brilliant idea to hide your wandering eyes from the teacher with your hand slightly covering your profile, now safe from her piercing gaze, you watch as the orange leaves dance with the breeze.
There's a pile of dead leaves at the bottom of its trunk, and you wish you could jump inside and never have to study biology ever again. It must be so warm and cozy inside, with the orange and yellow leaves as your sky and walls, you'll live like a tiny mouse queen ruling over your land. You think of all the stuff you'll bring inside your little leaf kingdom, your sketchbook is definitely a yes, and also your big pack of colorful markers and pencils is an absolute need. You'll need some snacks of course, some eggos and cheese balls would suffice. As for sleeping, you guess you'll never need to sleep when you have so much time to do anything you want in your leaf kingdom.
Yet, you think you'll be lonely inside. Sure you can bring your gameboy or your care bears, but they can't exactly talk and have the most riveting banter with you. With a smile, you plan to bring your best friend with you to your autumn kingdom. Hobie can be your bard or your right hand man. It's perfect, you think, a perfect place where it's just you and Hobie where there's no more school to attend, no more grades to keep up, just you and him having fun in the pile of leaves.
With a sigh, you blink slowly as your eyes get heavier and heavier with every daydream. Fighting the sandman from having his sandy grip on you, you pinch your cheek subtly. Opening your eyes, a familiar silhouette appears right next to the oak tree. Long arms waving in your direction, legs jumping to get your attention. Blinking rapidly, it's none other than Hobie who has the widest grin on his face when he notices that he finally has your attention.
He motions for you to go outside, beckoning you over dramatically. Miming that he'll cry if you don't go outside. You think otherwise, quietly giggling at his antics.
After the realization, you straighten in your seat, wondering why and how he got outside when he's supposed to be in maths.
A loud thwack slams against your desk, jumping awake, Mrs. Weathers shakes her head, tongue clicking in agitation.
“If you're not prepared to listen in class it's best that you should leave, miss L/N.” She says, gritting her fake teeth.
“Okay,” you stand up to collect your things, shoving your notebook and books inside your already full backpack. Your reply has Mrs. Weathers confused, since you are her best student.
“Wait—” you've never seen her flabbergasted, your classmates snicker silently in their seats, some even clap and cheer you on.
Giving them all a shrug, you exit the classroom before she grabs you back inside. With the door shutting close, you sprint towards the exit. Trainers squeaking on the linoleum, backpack heavy, you push the double doors open with your shoulder. Hobie greets you outside just as the fresh air whips at your cheeks.
He claps slowly but surely, face proud with a smug smile. “I've got to hand it to you, Pingu, I did not expect that. I have successfully made a rebel out of you.”
Hobie stands on the grass like he owns the entire school, hands tucked inside his jeans, thumbs tapping on his metal belts that clinks against each other when he moves. For once, he's dressed for the weather, the old worn leather jacket now fits him better than last year, it was bigger on his shoulders back then. Puberty works in mysterious ways, you think. A denim vest lays on top of the leather, handmade pins of his favourite things are all tacked securely on the denim. Its edges are frayed, but you know it was intentional since you're the one who helped him do it. The thrifted ‘Queen’ shirt you gave him on his birthday is the perfect size, but you know that he'll only be able to wear it for a couple of years at the rate he's growing.
No one would think you two are best friends judging by how different your styles are, or how different you are to him. Personality wise, likes, dislikes, it's all different, sometimes you wonder how you two get along. But you wouldn't have it any other way.
“How'd you get out of maths?”
“Climbed out of the window before Mr. Keery came in.”
You doubt his story. “Yeah, right, your classroom is on the third floor, Hobie.”
He feigns hurt, “my own best mate doubts my abilities?” You roll your eyes, but the heat in your cheeks says otherwise. “‘m great at climbing, I could climb down from that height.” You stay silent, looking at him with a raised brow and unblinking eyes. “...fine, I faked sleepin' by snorin’ loudly, happy?”
You touch his shoulder with a mischievous smile. “Hobie, you don't have to fake snore because you snore like an elephant giving birth.”
“You're very funny,” he takes your wrist to push your hands away. You now notice the new nail polish on his nails. “That doesn't even make bloody sense.”
You ignore him, mouth agape and shocked at his painted nails. “You finally coloured your nails?” You take his hand that has nail polish sloppily painted on. The paint even reaches to the edge of his nails, painting his skin with shadowy black. “You could've asked me for help, y’know.”
“It's part of the style” He shrugs, taking his hand away before you can feel his pulse pick up.
“Sure, even the bubbles are in style.” You tease with a playful smile. “So why'd you call me over here?”
“Got bored, then thought you're also bored so I went to your window so we could skip the rest of the day.” He purposely skips the part that he knows exactly where you always sit.
You gasp. “Wait, I thought we were just skipping class, not skipping the rest of the day!” Hands on your hips, you shake your head. “And here I thought there's like a really cool… stick or something.”
“A stick?” He chortles.
“Yeah, like the one you found a few days ago that actually looked like a sword.”
“Nah, I wanted to—” A high pitched whistle echoes out, startling you both. Finding the source of the sound, the school guard is currently running towards you. The hundreds of keys on his belt jingles, cheeks red from all the whistle blowing.
“Oi!” The yells, pointing accusingly at you two.
With wide eyes, Hobie takes your hand before sprinting away. He practically drags you along with him, bigger strides than you, he looks over his shoulder to check on you. Unsurprisingly enough, he has a huge grin on his lips, as if he planned all of it.
You follow his lead, dead leaves crunching under your shoes, backpack weighing you down. Yet, he doesn't leave you even though you're slowing him down. You appreciate him for not letting your hand go, but you don't like how your heart hammers against your chest when you look at your intertwined hands.
Finally reaching the metal fence, Hobie chucks his backpack over it. It's not that tall for him, he could easily jump over it with no problem, but with you still waiting on your growth spurt, it'll be a challenge for you. He knows it too, without asking he grabs your bag off your shoulders, he then quickly throws it over the other side before crouching down with his hands on top of the other.
“C’mon, Pingu, up you go!” Hobie flicks his eyes over to the guard, he's glad that the guard isn't exactly a track star. The whistling gets louder as the uniformed man gets closer. “Hurry—!”
Before he could finish saying the word, you shakily put your foot on his palm. With one strong push, and a jump from you, Hobie hoists you over the fence. You miraculously make it over, landing on your side with a groan. Hobie follows a second later, climbing like his life depended on it. Immediately grabbing each of your backpacks, then putting both on one arm, he lifts you up from the pavement with one hand just before the guard could even reach the fence; you two race off across the street, huffing and aching from the daring escape.
Going around a corner, Hobie leads you towards an alley. He skids off to a stop, heavy bags falling off his arms.
Hands on your knees, lungs burning, and face sweaty from the run, you check behind the corner if the guard is still after you.
“He won't follow us anymore. We're out!” Hobie exclaims, exhilarated, and grinning widely. He leans on the wall opposite of you, chest heaving, laughter echoing around the empty alleyway.
Copying his stance, cracking a smile, you laugh together with him. “You're a bad influence, Hobie Brown.”
“And you're a great influence, Y/N L/N.” His smile and his shining eyes says it all: we balance each other out. “Too bloody nice, that's what you are.”
You shake your head, chin resting on your clavicle to hide your lopsided smile. Heat on your cheeks, you seem to find yourself having the same expression lately whenever you're around him.
“Where to?” He asks once he caught his breath.
“My choice?” You ask, smile permanently etched on your lips.
“‘course,” Hobie says it like it's the most obvious thing. He was supposed to add to his sentence but he shuts his mouth before he could let the word escape.
You excitedly perk up. “The mall?”
He makes a face. “I'd rather stay in maths.”
“Arcade then?”
“They'd kick us out,” you knit your eyebrows in question. “Because we're skippin’ class, they put up that fuckin' sign a few weeks ago.”
“Oh right, I forgot. How about the record shop? Mike's cool, he might let us stay until classes are over.”
Hobie pushes himself off the wall, strutting over to you, your heart quickens for some reason. He pats shoulder with a smirk. “Your best idea yet,” taking both bags off the grimey floor, he puts them both on each shoulder. It's your turn to smirk at him. “What?”
“Nothing,” you say in a sing-song tone.
He clicks his tongue, avoiding your eyes. “C’mon then, before someone sees us here and thinks we're skippin' class.”
“Hobie, we are skipping class.”
“Not if we act like we're not.”
“...what?” You chuckle, blinking in confusion. “What would you do?”
“Nothin’, let's go.” He walks away from you.
“Oh come on, what will you do? Will you put on your best acting skills like how you faked being sick in front of the nurse? Because she was definitely convinced that you had chicken pox!” You giggle, following him, matching his longer strides.
“It worked, didn't it?” Hobie turns his head away from your playful glance.
“Yeah, because you had an actual fever. But sure, your drawn on chicken pox was very convincing.”
“I'm an artiste, Y/N.” He says, trying to do a french accent.
You snort, “sure, and I'm the queen of England.”
“Alright, your majesty.” He stops, “carry your own luggage,” your bag thuds on the pavement. “I don't want to help some parasite.” Smugly walking away, you feign hurt with your loud gasp.
“You…you doodoo head!” You yank your bag, wearing it properly on your back. Running after Hobie, he has a mischievous smile, one you're all too familiar with.
“Doodoo head? That the best you can come up with?” He says before bolting off, leaving you in the dust.
“Hey!” Running, you follow him with a laugh. “Asshole!”
Finally reaching the vinyl shop, the bells jingle as you two enter. The smell of plastic and cheap air freshener lingers in the air, the ancient shaggy carpet is soft under your trainers. Shelves upon shelves of records greet you as you roam your eyes around the different album covers. It's a slow day so the store is empty except for Mike the cashier who has headphones on.
Hobie sniffs dramatically, “home sweet home!”
Mike cracks an eye open, with a groan after seeing you and Hobie standing by the door, he chucks his headphones on the counter, looking disgruntled. The denim jacket with hundreds of patches and bottle cap pins is large on his lanky frame.
“Oh great, Hobie's here.” He says sarcastically, long straight hair flipped over his shoulder with one move from his head. “And he brought his little girlfriend. Hi, Y/N, you still hang out with this arse?” He points at Hobie who doesn't bother correcting him anymore. “Seriously, I thought you were smarter than that.”
“D’you finally have it, mate?” Hobie acts like he's the same age as Mike, even though the teenage cashier could be his older brother. Ignoring Mike's jab, he waits for his reply.
Wanting to quit his job is clearly seen on his face. Then he considers the fact that he needs to save for college. With a sigh, he points towards the end of the store, where you think ‘it’ is there.
Hobie punches the table with a thump, then he excitedly bounds over to where the cashier pointed. “Thanks, bruv.”
“Cyndi Lauper?” You ask, all wide eyed and shy. “It's not at the front anymore.”
“Over to the right, just across where your boyfriend is.”
“He's not my—nevermind, thanks.” Walking past all the display, Hobie guffaws when he finds what he was looking for. You smile at how happy he is.
He's so happy that he grabs you by your elbow, pointing at the new ‘Ramones’ album. The words “Ramones Mania” are printed in bright red.
“Finally! Look!”
“I see it, Hobs.” You chuckle, “didn't this release months ago though?”
“It did,” he sighs like he's recalling a bad memory. “But this place isn't making a lot of money from records like this, so Mike here!” He yells the last part to annoy the man. “Delayed ordering it. I had to come ‘ere every day just to remind him.”
You see Mike pressing the volume up on his walkman. Making sure that Hobie sees that he's not listening to him.
“You didn't tell me that.” You say, sounding a bit too hurt.
“Thought you wouldn't care.” Hobie shrugs, “‘sides, you don't listen to stuff like this.” He points at the album.
“I could listen to it, Hobs. I make you listen to my records and you seem to like it.”
Hobie's eyes soften. “You wanna listen to it together then? You might not like it.”
“Yeah,” you nod. “If I don't end up liking it then at least I gave it a try, right? If I do like it we have something new to talk about.”
He could only manage a smile and a curt nod. Taking the record to the listening booth that sits at the corner of the store, he leaves his bag outside whilst he opens the door for you. Placing your bag down more gently than he did, you enter the cramped booth.
Mike yells after you two, “you lot better not snog in there!” You and Hobie scrunch your faces at the man.
“We're fourteen, mate!” Hobie yells back, not agitated, just weirded out by Mike's comment.
“You're fourteen? How would I know? You look fuckin' sixteen, bruv! Tall motherfucker.” He whispers the last part, Hobie didn't hear it but you surely did.
“I thought he was cool.” You admit, shutting the booth door behind you.
“He's a wanker, just actin’ like he is. Thought you fancy him?”
“Ew.” He beams at your reaction.
You giggle, the sound bouncing off the padded walls of the booth. It's just a regular rectangular box with a shelf for the record player and a bench to sit on. It's quieter inside, the cars outside are muffled, the only clear thing you can hear is how your heartbeat gets faster and faster the longer you stay squished inside the booth with him. Sitting down, you leave enough space for him. Hands on top of the other, you roam your eyes around the cracking paint on the walls, mind making shapes from how the navy blue paint crumbles.
Hobie carefully takes the record out then places it on the record player. Sitting next to you, you can practically feel his excitement reverberating. He takes the headphones from its rack, turning each around so you and him could listen at the same time.
“Ready to shit your trousers?” He asks, eyes glinting from the single light bulb. He's so close to you that you can see yourself in the reflection in his eyes. And you can see every single strand of eyelashes that's perfectly blending in with his eyeliner.
“I don't want to poop on my trousers, I like this pair.” You joke, and you pat yourself on the back for making him laugh. “This is corduroy, Hobie.”
“Alright quiet time now.” He presses play as you hide your amused smile.
You bask in the sunset, eyes closed, you let the autumn air kiss your cheeks, your hands are behind you, propping you up. Despite the dusty pavement, and the looming problem of getting found out that you skipped school, you're perfectly content where you are right now. It would be perfect but you're missing something, or someone for that matter.
Cold air suddenly blows right behind you, the convenience doors close with a hiss and that's your cue to look up. Hobie appears upside down in your vision just like you thought, he tilts his head, you can see the cogs in his head turn. Placing the cup on your forehead, he laughs at your crossed eyes. Condensation rolls off from the plastic cup and into your skin.
Hobie takes it away before you could catch a cold. Sitting next to you, he hands you your bright slurpee. There's a mix of colours, red and blue melting into the orange and purple.
“They didn't have the brown one.” He says as he rips open a pack of Doritos. “There's no puddin’ pops either.”
“Aw,” you say slightly disappointed, but the sight of the box of nerds inside the plastic bag helps remedy your disappointment. “Ooh nerds!”
“Where?” As he says it, you see a grin slowly spreading on his face. “I only see one right here!” Chortling, grin wide, the orange hues of the sky paints him with its watercolour glow. You'd take this sight more than a day alone at the arcade.
“Ha ha.” You say flatly, sipping your drink too quickly, you wince loudly. Hobie guffaws into the barren space, save for the 711 behind you and the woods sitting quietly in front of you. His laugh echoes, even with his amusement, he still has the time to pat your back affectionately.
“Ow.” You rub your temple.
“What’d I tell you before? Drink it slowly, love.” The title slips out of his tongue. The second he realizes it, he hides behind his own cup, sipping wordlessly as he stares off into the woods.
Love, the simple freudian slip has you blinking at him slowly. He has never called you that before, he has, however, called you a bunch of nicknames that are either sweet or to purposely annoy you. But love? You've only heard older teenagers call each other that, and they usually have their hand inside their girlfriend’s or boyfriend’s back pockets when they do. You have no idea if Hobie has mistaken, because you're clearly not love, you're pingu, you're cheese, you're pebbles, hell, you're even lad, or his best mate. Never love, because that's reserved for someone you actually like, someone you truly care for.
Is he mistaken? Mimicking something he has heard around school?
“I should've told you about the album.” His voice wakes you to the present.
Do you care for him? Of course you do.
“What?” You breathlessly ask.
He's your best mate after Danny left, he was the only one who filled that lonely lonely gap he left. You think he's stuck with you forever, and he thinks you're stuck with him forever. Strangely enough, you both think it's perfect.
“Me pestering the shit out of Mike.” You knit your eyebrows at his words. He looks down at his boots, a small puddle at his feet reflects his own confused face. Is he apologizing? Why is he apologizing for? Weirdly enough, you both ask the same question.
You'd annoy Mike for him. You'd call the shop endlessly just so they would order his record. Even if you get in trouble for the telephone bill.
“You would've helped.” Hobie continues, eyes now looking into your own.
Care, it's a simple word, but you think it's not enough to describe how you feel about him, how you really feel about your best friend. It's much more than that.
“Yeah, I would've annoyed him too.” You softly smile at him.
“I know, love.” Because he knows you, and you know him too. Hobie utters the title more confidently, the word rolling off his tongue like butter. He makes it sound like he has been calling you that in his head for a long time. Maybe he has. “I know you would.”
He had the answer the whole time, it's not just you caring for him. It's love, it's love in its earliest state, it's love at its most innocent.
You love him, that revelation scares you, but it's better not knowing how you truly feel whenever he smiles at you and your heart skips a beat. Now you know, you'll tell him one day, one day when that feeling gnaws at your chest. But for now, you'll settle with drinking slurpees with him, you'll settle for skipping class so you could listen to records with him. For now you'll settle with loving him as his best mate, and for now, you're content just by being at his side.
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spideyhexx · 4 months
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Adding onto readers!dad being Billy boss
Billy wanting to tell her dad about them she doesn’t incase he stops them seeing each other so Billy thinks she’s embarrassed of him
I love the whole, reader's dad being Billy's boss
tw; mentions of death; fem!reader
"Honey, I can tell him all that 'm workin' on to go straight, hell I have been," Billy pleads, reaching out to grab your hand to stop you from pacing.
"You don't know him as well as I do and I know he'll throw a fit, it would-"
"Are you embarrassed of me?" A breath escapes your lips, shaking your head at him immediately.
"What? No, no that's not what I meant, Billy," you tell him, your voice dropping to a quieter volume and he scoffs, letting go of your hand. It's like that action directly causes a surge of coldness to run through your body.
"Sure you didn't. I shoulda known, gettin' involved with a rich spoiled girl like you. You would see me as less than and not enough," he spits out, his jaw clenching and he rubs his hand through his hair. His words hit you hard and you feel like cowering away. Your feet shift, taking a step back closer to the door of his little cabin.
Billy's eyes soften when he looks at you, your hands clasped, fiddling with your fingers and your shoulders tense. He shakes his head, like he's denying the words he's said but it's too late, "'M sorry, I didn't-"
"Oh, you didn't mean it?" Your words snap in his ears. Billy looks to the floor like a petulant child about to be told off. In reality, you knew you were a rich and spoiled girl, but that didn't change how much it hurt coming from him. You take a deep breath to compose your anger, something your mother always taught you.
"My father has the power to keep us apart, Billy. That's why I don't wanna tell him. You're more than enough for me, I wouldn't be breakin' my father's rules left and right for you if I didn't think highly of you. He could kill you, William Bonney."
Each of your words pierce into him and while he understands what you're getting at, Billy just wants to love you the way you both want. He wants to feel your love the way you want. But the two of you can't and he'd have to live with that.
"'M sorry," Billy says, still looking at the ground. The sound of your footsteps retreating closer to the front door is enough for him to snap his head up and walk after you.
Billy grabs your wrist. "Let me go," you whisper, your eyes already welling with tears.
"I knew what I was gettin' into with you, but I don't care. Dammnit, I don't, okay?" His eyes are wide, crazed as his body crowds your space. He's so large, moving closer to you like he needs his body that close. You're practically up against the door with your wrist still in his grasp.
"If we can't tell your father, I'll do whatever I can to have you. Please, honey," his voice moves into a whisper and he closes his eyes tight, nudging his nose to yours.
Your own breath becomes shaky, a tear falling down your cheek as his lips brush yours. "Don't want you to get killed cause of me," you mumble and his eyes open, the crease in his brow makes you want to kiss the spot between his brows, but you refrain.
"But I'd die for you, honey," he rasps. You want to slap him. Slap his pretty, angelic face.
"Billy, please-"
"I'll do anythin' for us, you hear me? Anythin'. If you'll have me." His eyes bore into yours, awaiting a response. He loosens his hold on your wrist to move his fingers against yours, intertwining your fingers.
Your love for William Bonney knew no limits and you knew you couldn't simply give it up, give in to your father's wishes. You knew long before you met Billy that it wasn't fair to yourself. And the love you feel as Billy holds your hand, kissing the tip of your nose then your forehead as more tears start to fall from your cheeks, is a love you want to feel forever, even in death.
"I'll have you, William Bonney," you whisper to him and he cracks a small smile.
"And I have you." You return his smile and sniffle, squeezing his hand and letting it go, giving him a pointed look.
"I haven't forgotten what you said though," you remind him and he nods, his smile dropping, but he doesn't break his eye contact with you.
"'M sorry," he directs his apology again, taking a step back from you as you open the door.
"Make it up to me tomorrow."
Quickly you step back to him and grab his cheeks, smashing your lips to his in a few-second bruising kiss that leaves Billy stunned with no idea where to put his hands. They raise but find no purchase against you and just when his mind snaps back into reality and his lips are tingling from how hard you kissed him, you're pulling away.
You're too quick, kissing him with all of your might. Then, Leaving him alone in his cabin.
let's chat about billy, here :)
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Two Peas In A Pod
—A blessing... or a calamity in disguise?
Fandom: Blue Lock
Pairing: Nagi X Fem!Reader
Genre: Crack, Humor, Horror
Format: Short fic
Warnings: Breast feeding, Jealousy, Probably ooc!Nagi
Word Count: 1.5K
A/n: Idk I just thought this would fit him lol. Might remind you of boss baby.
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There are moments in life which can never be forgotten. Long awaited moments that leave a sweet velvety taste in your mouth and get engraved on your memory,
Moments like this.
Nagi is in hospital, standing next to the delivery room with his infant in his arms. He's wearing the most genuine smile he could ever wear, staring at his baby boy's angelic face. The baby has the tiniest hands ever that would get lost in his if he were to hold them, and the cutest chubby feet ever. He could just eat them right away.
"Wow Nagi, he looks just like you!" Reo says, smiling at the sight while snapping a picture. "You two are like two peas in the pod, except that his hair isn't long enough to be as messy as yours"
"I know. I did hope he'd take after y/n, but he's still cute"
Your husband looks so grown up like this with a baby in his hands. That's what makes Reo to snap another picture, this time in full frame of both Nagi and the baby. His smile is as soft as when he watched him saying his vow to you, and he can't help but to feel happy for his best friend.
"I'm gonna go get a cup of coffee and call Isagi and others. They've been waiting for the news"
"Ok"
Nagi's gaze doesn't leave the baby's face to follow Reo's footsteps walking away. He persistently stares at the baby's closed eyelids, wondering if they're hazel colored like his, or have the color of your eyes. Maybe it's a mixture of both, he thinks, if it's possible. He doesn't have to wait for long to find out though, because suddenly, the baby's eyelids start shuddering and in less than a second, they're wide open, displaying the warm chocolate brown color of his eye balls.
Every inch of his figure resembles his father. Even the look in his eyes is curious, just like Nagi's is right now.
"Welcome home, little thing. We're gonna have so much fun together, me and you"
"I don't think that's gonna happen"
Nagi doesn't know whether he should believe his ears, or his eyes. A talking baby? That's a miracle! Babies don't start talking until they're two years old, but this one in his arms was definitely the one talking a little while before, since his intense stare is piercing through Nagi's heart.
I must have very strong genes.
"What do you mean, that's not gonna happen?"
"Oh sorry, I guess I wasn't being clear on the matter" The baby speaks in a semi-grown up voice. "I meant that, you won't be having much fun from now on"
"How come?"
The baby's innocent expression is all gone. Now there's a straight yet devilish look on his face which Nagi doesn't find charming. "I thought you would already figure out that much, but I guess I was wrong. Heh...what a pain"
"Stop giving me that shit and tell me already"
"You don't care much for sharing; do you, my dear father?"
Oh.
Nagi doesn't like where this is going. He feels an unwelcoming sense of threat in his heart.
"So what? Are you saying you're gonna steal y/n from me?"
"No..."
The grin on the baby's face isn't casual. All of a sudden, Nagi doesn't find a single thing resembling him. The baby looks more like... Light Yagami from death note, the blond version.
"...I'm saying that I already have"
This can't be happening.
"Tough luck. You'll never be able to split us off. Y/n's love for me is boundless. I'm her one and only"
"You were her one and only" His gums are visible through his demonic smirk. "Now that I'm here, you won't get a quarter of the attention you used to receive. From now on, I'll be the one who sleeps in her arms at— well all the time. She'll always be near me, looking after me since I'm just a fragile little thing. The time she used to spend alone with you is gonna be limited to less than ten minutes, and your share of affection will also be mine. Even if you two do get the time to be alone with each other, she'll be too exhausted to even look at your face. She wouldn't miss it, since she gets to be with me all the time"
The world comes crashing down on the white haired man. Through his storming mind, he can see himself curled up under the strangely ice cold blanket while staring at you frustratingly, asking you to get in the bed with him already. But standing on the other side of the room, it feels like you're a thousand miles away, voice barely making its way to his hear yet so destructively striking him, saying you have to put the baby to sleep first. Even after doing that, you're so tired that you pass out on the bed before Nagi can even lay a finger on you.
"Not only that, I'm gonna take away all the other things you enjoy as well"
Another illusion appears before his eyes, only this time he's sitting on the couch, and you're standing in front of him, wearing a somewhat annoyed expression.
"I'm sorry Sei, but we can't afford to buy more video games anymore. We have to start saving up for Light's college"
No.... that can't be real. He can't give up on his video games for a serial killer's his child's future. That's absurd. You're not expecting him to do that, are you? You know how video games are important to him.
"Just you wait my stupid father, I will take everything you cherish in your life, and it starts from this very moment, with your most loved one"
His most... loved one?
Just as he's about to ask the little demon about his intention, the door to the room opens and a nurse comes out. "Alright! It's the baby's lunch time"
No. Not that.
"His lunch time? You mean, y/n's gonna feed her...?"
Nagi's voice is shivery, like he didn't know about how the babies drink milk. The nurse is a little taken aback by that, but still keeps her smile on.
"Yes sir, he needs to be fed right now, so if I may..." She reaches out to take the baby from his embrace, but fails when Nagi steps back.
"You... can't do that. I mean, this baby looks like he should drink formula milk instead of breast milk. It'll be better for him"
"The hell are you talking about, Nagi? Let the nurse take him to y/n" Reo suddenly appears next to him, giving him a questioning look.
"No— You don't understand— I—"
"What's up with you man? Here, ma'am; take the little thing to his mommy"
Nagi feels all the misery existing in the world raining on him as he watches the nurse take the infant to you. Reo looks away when you pull up your hospital gown to reveal the enchanting sight of your breast that are bigger than usual and are full of milk, all ready to be devoured in the baby devil's throat. This is it. The beginning of his torment, the sight of his most comforting treasure being possessed by another person, shattering his heart into a zillion pieces.
"No..."
The baby squeezes your right nipple with his hand, letting out a small whine.
"Stop it... No..."
You softly caress his cheek and baby talk him to enjoy his meal.
Why can't all of you people see his devilish smirk?
"No..."
The baby looks at him from the corner of his eyes. He's taking his most special thing, his stress balls, his warm pillows he snuggles his face into at nights, his soft squishies he plays with whenever he's bored, his delicious jello balls he sucks on to help him go to sleep...
"No... No... No..."
You hold your left boob and snuggle him closer to help him drink, and he helps himself out, by brutally taking it into his mouth.
It happens.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO"
Then Nagi wakes up from his sleep.
Through his blurry vision, he recognizes his room in the middle of the night, and of course, your kind hand on his shoulder.
"Sei? Are you ok sweetheart?"
Nagi keeps panting. He hurriedly looks around the room to see any sign of the baby, but thankfully, he finds nothing. He can't ignore the cute bump of your belly under your oversized T-shirt though.
"Y/n?"
"Yeah?"
"If the baby looks like me we'll give it away"
"Excuse me??!"
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cloudseeker14 · 1 year
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Pink in The Night (Scaramouche x Fem!Reader)
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Summary : After Teyvat had been wiped clear of the memories of the sixth harbinger, the Wanderer heads towards a place of thoughts of reminiscence; hoping to find the only one who'd ever understood him.
Genre : Angst, Romance
Scaramouche walked ahead, trodding a path of moss and grass. Squirrels scurried away with every step he took with his wide hat fluttering in the wind.
He had escaped from the Fatui, left behind his dire thirst for vengeance and was now a shell of the harbinger he had been with only memories of his exploits. Memories that only he would remember for the world has spun ahead without him.
He was a lone Wanderer, the nature was his humble abode. He had no name, no home and didn’t have anyone’s arms to go running into as the night grew cold.
Well, no one except her.
He could see a harbor appearing before him, huts rising beneath the clear night sky. Pin pricks of light shone as families slumbered inside, lost to the land of dreams.
Scaramouche hurried beneath the archway, his pathetic excuse of a heart growing warm at the thought of seeing her.
At the thought of hearing her laughter.
At the thought of feeling her touch as soft as the silk flowers that filled the air with their scent.
He turned around familiar alleyways, a path that his feet had lead to countless times; a haunting melody of his past.
Would she remember him? Remember the nights that they spent together and the rough kisses shared beneath the moonlight?
Scaramouche was afraid to find out the answer.
At last, he arrived at a house with rose vines that crawled along the rooftops, their alluring fragrance drawing him in.
Scaramouche took in deep breaths and cleared his throat, ignoring the way his chest seemed to tighten at the thought of seeing her face.
He knocked on the door thrice, loud and clear in sharp contrast to the flurry of questions flying across his head.
Does she still remember the love she had for me?
Scaramouche needed her to, for the notion of not being the object of her affections left him in a cold sweat. If she looked at him like a stranger even after holding him close to her chest at a past which seemed like it was an eternity ago, he wasn't sure what he'd do.
The door swung open with an ear piercing creak and there she stood, the woman that had once melted through the cold defenses of the sixth harbinger, locks of hair falling across her face.
Scaramouche gazed into her eyes, waiting, yearning and even pleading within himself for a sign of recognition.
Yet nothing came, only a look of confusion.
Y/N stared at the man before him, the way his blue eyes seemed to twinkle like the stars in the sky and the billowing clothes that adorned his frame.
"Excuse me, do I know you?" She asked, wariness evident on her features
It felt like a hole had been ripped open in the place where Scaramouche's heart should have been. Screams threatened to rip from his throat as memories of small hugs, shared chuckles and the way her hand had felt in his flashed past his eyes.
They were being set aflame, falling apart to ashes.
"Sir?" Y/N asked, eyebrows furrowed "Do you need anything?"
Scaramouche swallowed the bile that threatened to rise up his throat before replying. "I'm just a traveller and I'm very tired after my long journey. Do you know where I can find a place to rest?"
Please, laugh in my face right now and tell me you're joking. Tell me that you obviously remember me.
I can't lose you too, the only thing that made this tapestry of lies worth living.
"Just keep walking ahead and you'll find the Crescent Inn, it's a very comfortable place, I'm sure you'll like it."
He looked down, tears welling up at the rim of his eyes. His lips trembled as he forced himself to stare at the ground at his feet.
"Are you okay? Do you need a glass of water?"
There it was, that familiar concern that had drawn Scaramouche to her in the first place.
He met her questioning face. "No, it's just been a tough day. Thank you and I'm sorry if I bothered you."
Y/N smiled weakly before slamming the door on his face. Scaramouche turned around and left through her house's gate. The ground beneath him seemed to be tumbling down with every step he took.
He'd made it past her house before collapsing onto the ground, bellowing curses to the wind as tears ran down his porcelain face.
He damned the gods, their lies and torments and how with each of their intervention, they'd ripped apart any chance for him to hope in this world and had forced him to leave a trail of regrets.
Scaramouche had scoured marshes, crossed deserts and climbed the most ruggedy of mountains to find Y/N, only to lose her yet again.
"Scara, look at me."
"Why do you even care for me?" He asked haughtily "A mere mortal like you, do you really think you could satisfy me?"
"You and I both know you aren't fooling anyone with that rude act of yours."
Scaramouche stepped closer to her, brushing the hair from her face with his slender fingers. "Fine, then can you love a puppet, a broken creation like me? I don't even have a heart to give you."
"I love you just as you are, you're more than enough for me." Y/N held his hands, slowly caressing his palm
"Even if it meant tearing Teyvat apart, you're the only one for me. No one else could ever compare to you in my eyes." She continued, a light hue of pink sprinkled over her face.
"I'm not a good person, Y/N. I've killed so many people and I will have to keep doing so. I could harm you, maybe even ruin you and I don't want to do that to you."
"Scaramouche." She muttered, holding onto his hands even more tightly.
“Even my own creator, my mother didn’t want me. I’m not even sure if I’m capable of loving you to extent you deserve without a heart.”
“Enough.” She pulled Scaramouche into a tight embrace, engulfing him in her affection. “I don’t care about your mother or what the world would think of me if I stood by your side, all that matters is that I get to spend a lifetime with you.”
Scaramouche stiffened, muscles tensing as Y/N wrapped her arms around him. “A lifetime would never be enough for me. I would consider your death as the utmost betrayal.” He said, straining his voice to keep its composure.
The darkness of the night couldn’t hide the hurt that flickered on Y/N’s face.
“But at least let me have this.” He whispered, voice soft and vulnerable as the facade of the powerful harbinger shattered into pieces like shards of glass. Scaramouche buried his face into the crook of her neck, nuzzling against her soft skin.
"We can stay like this for as long as you want." Y/N hesitantly placed her hand atop Scaramouche's head, running her fingers through his hair. "As long as an ounce of life exists in my body, my heart will always beat for you."
The sixth harbinger pushed away, the thoughts behind those blue eyes unreadable as he allowed his gaze to wander. "Do you promise that?"
Scaramouche knew promises were worthless in the face of the monster known as time, but he still wanted to hear it.
"Of course I do." She smiled and with such a simple gesture, she managed to completely untether the course of Scaramouche's world.
He didn't know if it was the way the moonlight shone of her face or if it was the alcohol making his mind fuzzy that allowed him to even consider the daring thought that entered his head.
Perhaps he had lost his mind because he placed his lips upon hers, as tender as a fleeting butterfly.
She tasted like honey and Scaramouche allowed himself to drown in the feeling of her body against his and the way his hands fit perfectly against her waist. He’d never been a believer of the gods but at that moment, he couldn’t help but pray that this would last forever.
Scaramouche wanted to laugh at the wind, at the irony of it all. He certainly hadn’t grown wiser about trusting mortals after three betrayals.
Three betrayals and he still wanted to go crying into the arms of a human.
Three betrayals and he'd still allowed himself to let her escape from his grasp.
Every leaf and bird of the forest seemed to sing the words that Scaramouche had been terrified of saying when he was somebody that she used to know.
The breeze seemed to whisper in his ears, taunting him with the three words which if he'd said, might have changed everything.
I love you.
But it was too late and those words would forever remain sealed within Scaramouche, shut within the fortress of his unspoken desires.
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jinwoosungs · 8 months
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{ 106 }
feel again.
warnings: unedited, spoilers for lies of p, self indulgent. thank you to @kkyos for letting me know the important plot details pertaining to the king of puppets 🔥
romeo - king of puppets - x fem.reader
{ my heart is numb | but with you, i feel again. }
the king of puppets was left severely damaged after his battle with geppetto's puppet...
the one who simply went by p;
the one who carries carlo's memories within his mechanical heart;
the one romeo tried so desperately to warn about-
yet it was all for naught.
the automaton with the chestnut hair and cold, blue eyes never listened nor believed a single word romeo had told him.
so the king of puppets thought if p wouldn't heed his warnings about geppetto's true intentions, then he might as well kill him himself.
but he wasn't expecting p to be so powerful, and it would be fair to say that romeo had severely underestimated him. p seemed to cut him down with ease. for a mere puppet, romeo had to admit how powerful p's conviction was when it came to their battle. the puppet romeo had been controlling, appearing every bit like the true king of puppets, suffered a great blow that caused an explosion.
it left romeo greatly damaged beyond compare, with half of his face melted in the process. so instead of relying on his facade as the king of puppets, he knew he had to fight p in his true form, doing all he could to defeat geppetto's creation.
yet each time p's blade met with romeo's metallic body, he knew that he didn't stand a chance. if romeo wished to survive, he would have to willingly fall and allow geppetto's wishes to come true.
"maybe this is what freedom feels like. thanks, carlo."
he thinks back to his dear friend and the tragedy of his death, and although romeo understood geppetto's desire see him again, he didn't think it was right nor fair to take away p's life in exchange.
yet each time romeo tried to convey these feelings, p displayed no signs of understanding a single word romeo had said, piercing through his shoulder with a thick blade as romeo slumped forward, landing with his face against the velvet floors of the theater. he waits and hears the faint sounds of a conversation going on... of him congratulating p on his defeat.
romeo could feel the thick oil seep through the openings of his armor, and an overwhelming sensation coursing through his form. every part of his body had been slashed by p's weapon, leaving a permanent mark that he was uncertain he could ever recover from.
so, he lays in waiting, waiting for their presence to disappear, waiting for the scent of oil and rust to dampen down just so he can move once more.
romeo was uncertain how much time had passed, but when he could hear the sounds of rain pounding against the cobblestone streets, he shuts his eyes and basks in the refreshing scent for the briefest of moments.
move, you'll die here if they come back.
with his fists clenched, he slowly stands back to his full height, his stature and gait unsteady due to how much damage he had taken in the fight. he allows his dirty blond hair to fall across his face, covering his damaged eye, now shining a bright red instead of its usual onyx grey.
he takes steady movements, coming out of the opera house as the rain washes over him. strange, gasping noises were heard coming from his parted lips, his movements a slow, crawling pace. the downpour was getting stronger, creating puddles against the streets of krat.
as the rain dampens his locks of hair, romeo was forced to look at the damage he had sustained. his hair was torn in as the left side of his face was completely melted off, revealing a bright red iris settled in the middle of a wide expanse of black. his hands tremble, ready to touch against the part of his face that made him a monster when a sudden gasp was heard.
his ears could detect the sound, facing the sound as his eyes met with a young woman's-
met with your gaze.
the umbrella that was held in your hand drops at the mere sight of him, and even when his mind seemed to short circuit at the fact that someone had seen him in such a vulnerable state, he couldn't deny that you were beautiful.
from the way your hair framed at your face, to the brightness of your eyes and the curve of your lips...despite how utterly long it had been since he was a human, he remembers what it feels like to cherish the beauty in things that he admired-
and you were by far the most beautiful sight he had ever seen in a long time.
he watches you, as if drawn to you, like your presence was pulling him towards you. his hands reach out to you, and he was shocked to find that you didn't flinch away from him. his fingertips were just centimeters away from gracing your cheeks when a flash of lightning cuts through him, illuminating his features once more as he saw his reflection within the puddles.
with a low, anguished cry, romeo was forced to back away from you, turning away as he allowed his legs to carry him away. just what was he thinking? he was a monster, and you were so beautiful- reminding him of all the fairies and princesses he had read about in those fairytales.
you would be disgusted with him, regardless of how much he was drawn to you.
but when he feels a sudden pull against his wrist, stopping him from going any further, romeo turns back to see you clinging to him. "wait, please, don't go...!"
it was strange, but he could feel your hands against his cold, metallic body, transferring your warmth into him as yet another overwhelming emotion fills him.
instead of feeling pain surrounding his body, he felt something pierce into his chest, the place where his own mechanical heart lay as it ached at the sight of your proximity, filling him with a desire to reach out his hand to brush back at your hair. he allows his fingertips to grace your features for a brief second before his vision turns completely black, hearing your voice echoing as he succumbs to his injuries.
{ ... }
the moment he awakens, he was aware of the fire burning brightly from in front of him.
now in a panicked state, romeo sits up, ready to attack had it not been for the fact that you were currently settled before the blazing fire. when his eyes adjust to his surroundings, he was fully aware of how he was safely tucked into a small bed with a comforting fire remaining ablaze within the fireplace.
"ah, it's nice to see that you're awake. you had me worried there." romeo remains silent, simply watching you while admiring the sound your voice. it was hard to explain, but he felt a sense of tranquility each time you spoke to him.
you tell him your name as you were now pacing the room, with your eyes straying to him every so often, "although you are so much taller than me, i was determined to carry you back with me to my home. i managed to clean you, getting rid of all that rust and oil to the best of my abilities before laying you in my bed."
when you finished speaking, you appeared sheepish then, scratching the back of your head while giving him a tiny smile. "i was really afraid that you wouldn't open your eyes, but i'm so happy that you did."
your sudden kindness makes romeo feel a tightness in his chest, making him look away from you. "what made you wish to help a monster like me?"
the cold edge heard in his voice was enough to make you stop in your tracks, ceasing your pacing around the room when romeo continues, "i'm part of the automatons that went rogue. if i so desired, i could kill you irregardless of your humanity."
"but you were hurt, and i could not leave you, even if you can kill me."
you admit to him without hesitation, making romeo face you once more. when he held your gaze, he saw no fear in your eyes, watching you as you stepped closer to him. you never once looked away from him, settling yourself on the bed with him.
no words were spoken, and you find yourself leaning closer to him. romeo flinches away from you, seeing your hands reaching out to him. his actions make you halt for a moment, but you end up pushing through anyways and allow the palm of your hand to caress at his cheek.
with a gentleness romeo had never felt before, he feels the way your hands frame at his face. despite how much romeo held a deep sense of self loathing for what had become of him and his face, he could not bring himself to hurt you by pushing you away. for some odd reason, he just knew that you meant no harm, and the thought of hurting you made his chest display this strange ache again.
"don't be afraid of me...and don't pull away." your voice was as soft and sweet as a lullaby, tracing at each and every part of his features. from his cold, full lips to his pale skin and the few freckles that decorate it. when he feels your fingertips touch at the melted portion of his face, he found himself leaning in to your touch.
"tell me, what is your name?"
as if caught under your spell, romeo closes his eyes, basking in your closeness as he relinquishes his name to you.
"romeo."
he figured that would be the farthest extent of your touches, yet when your face suddenly leans forward and he could feel the sensation of your lips against his ruined features, romeo felt his chest explode yet again with an unknown, overwhelming sensation-
he had read about this action in books before, what you had given him was a kiss, and a kiss was always meant to be shared between those who shared a particular fondness for each other-
shared between those who loved each other.
yet romeo found that he did not dislike your kiss, not even in the slightest.
you keep your lips pressed against his cheek for a few more beats before pulling away to whisper, "i know you won't hurt me, because i won't ever hurt you..."
you meet his gaze once more, smiling brightly at him when you admit, "you are perfect...and beautiful to me."
with your soft kindness and beauty filling him, romeo found himself looking at you with a sense of longing, the once still mechanical heart that was locked in his chest suddenly feeling as though it was coming to life for the first time in years.
romeo acts on this strange desire, hands placing themselves on your neck as he brings you even closer to him, copying your prior movements when he places his own, cold lips against the heated skin of your forehead, allowing them to warm him when he whispers to you,
"with you, i feel again."
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a.n. - i am so in love with romeo. after my friend had revealed him to me in a leak, and i could hear what he sounded like, i am so, utterly in love with him. this is so self indulgent and i am soooo sorry.
all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.
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onlyseokmins · 1 year
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perfect, now spit in my mouth • h.v.c.
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Pairing: chwe vernon x afab!reader
Genres: smut (minors dni!), established relationship!au, lyricist/composer!au
Warnings: swearing, lots of spitting/spit kink (😭), fingering (fem. receiving), tiny bit of praise kink ig, lil bit of degradation but it prolly breaks nonnie's heart tbh, breeding kink too uwu, mentions of male receiving oral lol, wap lmaooo, tiny bit of temp play but not really - you'll see, wee bit possession heh, reader likes to tease and vernon is extremely whipped :3
WC: 2.6k
A/N: vernon and black eye = spit kink so nothing new but i wrote it so it is smth new 🤷🏻‍♀️ ajskdfd no but 🥳 a very extremely happy belated birthday @junkissed i love u lots heh i hope u enjoy this since i had to change up my original plans and i'm so sorry it took a while 🥰 oh and this is also for the other feral dollies out there ily all
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If there was one thing you loved about Vernon, it would be his awkwardness. It was what drew you to him.
Light coughs whenever you giggled at one of Seungkwan's silly jokes. Stifled clearing of his throat at the rare chance he got to speak with you. The abrupt avoidance of eye contact when he was startled by your sudden appearance while lost in his own world. And a jittery departure at times you got too near — one might think he actually disliked you.
But those close to him knew the truth. And whether Vernon acknowledged it or not, you were someone close to him. And also a person that could read the man very well.
The light brush of his trembling fingers pressing against your back when guiding you through a crowded market. A protective stance at your side in his leather jacket, eyes narrowed as if to dare anyone to mess with you. As if you needed to be guarded.
But the furrow of his eyebrows while doing it was too cute for you to complain.
Vernon's awkward behaviors happen so often that they might as well just be normal anyways. A gummy smile and the characteristic wrinkles of his nose were enough to make up for any peculiar habits around you. 
Especially after you say yes when he works up enough courage, stuttering while asking you to finally be his. Fumbling for the matching couple's bracelets he'd worked several double-shifts for in his pocket. Brown eyes sparkling and reflecting the same joy in yours even after he drops the box in a puddle. Not like you had any plans on saying no, though.
Those chocolate-colored eyes stare down at you now in wonder as Vernon holds himself above you. His left hand placed by your ear is decorated with the silver circlet holding your birthstone while wrapped around his neck, your right arm's accessory jingles with its amethyst charm. The pair of one-year anniversary gifts pierced in your earlobes sparkle in the low light of your shared bedroom, complimenting your cherished bracelets.
He's no longer as weird with you as before. As in, his fleeting touches now linger comfortably and he can almost read you just as well as you always have him.
Yet he still questions with pure wonder. As if he can't quite believe you're actually real in his arms and on his bed. Like you didn't give him the best suck of his fat cock for the hundredth time.
"You want me to what?"
"Spit in my mouth, baby. Did I stutter before?"
"N-no, I just — " 
His eyes are blown wide, mouth still hanging open from when you first posed the notion. You put your hand on the side of his face, gently stroking his cheek with your thumb.
"Sometimes you treat me too gently. You can be a little rough, you know I like it."
"What if you break?"
"I'm not that fragile, goofball."
"I know but what if you hate me?" Vernon whispers, though his eyes do not leave yours. They shine, showcasing all his vulnerabilities. "I like you so much I think I'll die if you do."
"Silly, then stop thinking so much. It's not like I'm asking you to slap me and call me a whore." You smile coyly. "Although it's not like I'd be opposed to such things." When he whines your name you laugh. "Okay, okay… a later time then."
He flops his forehead on your bare shoulder. "I can't believe you."
"Can't believe you'd write something like "I'll spit in your mouth" and not do it," you pout and he lets out a defeated sigh.
"You know most of those lyrics weren't like… literal."
"Then what's the point?"
Your boyfriend can see how your eyes flash with teasing mischief so he shrugs in an attempt to put up a strong face. "I… draw inspiration from all kinds of experiences. Before, during… our relationship."
"… What about after? Are you planning to break up with me at some point?"
"Uh, wait — "
"Omigosh, then do you plan to murder me in the near future?"
"No, what? All I meant was I write things that aren't about you, sometimes."
"I know that," you assure him in his panic. "Sooooo," you drawl out, switching gears and pushing him onto his back so you can sit on top. You're both shirtless but have your undergarments on. "If we were to fuck often in the studio, would you write more songs about me?"
"God, baby," he groans, hand flying to your hips, "do you think I'd even have the time to think with you bouncing all loud and gorgeous on my dick? What's gonna happen when I lose my studio rights?"
Pleased at how Vernon's body is so reactive — cock hardening again and twitching sensitively in his boxers at the obscene thoughts — you grind down lightly. "Then we fuck even more. All day," you lean down and whisper right in his ear, "and all night." 
"Shit, you're so dirty. So good to me. All for me."
"Of course," you swivel your hips, fingers brushing up the sides of your body, "all yours." 
His gaze follows the colors of your pretty manicured nails until they settle to cover your breasts. They still shine with saliva and feel a little sore from him worshiping them earlier. You grab at them with a light squeeze and press down harder against him, taking in every reaction. The way his eyes roll back at how much you're soaking through the thin fabric of his boxers makes you feel like a god.
"Even when "I'm on my worst behavior"."
"You are so not using my lyrics in bed."
"Hey, I did earlier 'cause they do make great dirty talk so "don't stop me now", Vernonnie." You wink when all the poor man can do is roll his eyes. "See, "how you like me now"?"
He urges you back over to your previous position. "I do love you but if you want me to spit in your mouth, I think I'm gonna have to be on top."
You simply hum, the sudden electrifying zing in the air making you quiver in anticipation. Vernon is aware of this — pinning your arms above your head, fingers rubbing reassuringly along the band of your bracelet.
"That wasn't an answer."
"That wasn't a question?" you bite back, thrilled when he squints to shield the way his gaze darkens.
"When I tell you to speak, you do."
The gasp of surprise that rises in your chest comes out as a moan. Despite his uncertainty, the commanding tone makes your head spin joyously. Heat rushes through your entire body and releases in a hot mess between your legs, soaking your panties. 
You're sure Vernon will very quickly and gleefully find out once he finishes sucking little love bites in a trail down your stomach. His warm breath lingers at your waistline, pausing until you raise your head to look at him questioningly.
"My pretty baby hasn't listened yet. Guess I'll hang out here for a bit. Thought we were done for the night anyways."
Your jaw drops as he continues to just press kisses on your tummy. "What the hell, Vern?"
"Don't you think you should behave to get what you want?"
"Don't you want to find out how wet I am for you?"
He shudders and you think you've won but he's uncharacteristically stubborn tonight, refusing to yield. "Only… only good… whores are rewarded."
You moan breathlessly. Shamelessly. Your boyfriend has barely touched you tonight besides some casual foreplay beforehand. Yet you feel zero embarrassment at how much your body aches in want for him. "I'll be a good whore for you so… please, please touch me!"
Vernon lets out a curse, hastily taking off your panties. He groans in delirium staying focused solely on your leaking pussy that's begging for him. Looking you in the eyes, he gulps to steady his resolve despite how easily distracted he is by the desperate flutter of your eyelashes.
"You really want me, baby? Think this little cunt can take me?" A choked laugh escapes his throat. "So goddamn wet for me already just like the lovely darling you are."
Your reply is cut off by a harsh sound in his throat before he spits right at your pussy. Hips bucking up at the feeling of warm liquid sliding down into your hole and only continuing to jerk upwards as he stares, not even blinking. Like a cat. Licking his lips agonizingly slow at the way you clench pitifully around nothing, his saliva mixing with your arousal.
"But not wet enough."
That's a fucking lie. You both know it. And you both don't care.
You can't help but leak more and more, threatening to leave a puddling mess all over the mattress. But he won't let that happen. You think you might burst into flames when your boyfriend's lidded eyes drag across your writhing body to meet yours, a heated fire swirling in chocolate irises as he spits into his palm without losing your gaze.
You've seen him do it before. Normally when he's about to wrap his hand around his thick cock during a mutual masturbation session when he can't use your wetness to coat him instead.
But now, he catches your dripping mess right before it falls. Smearing it with an accompaniment of saliva all over to coat your pussy lips. Fingers brush across your slit to fiddle with your clit, before spreading a shiny trail on your pelvis.
"So pretty… " Vernon mumbles, marveling at the debauched visage of your desperation. 
Your fingers pinch at your nipples, thighs trembling because his hand lays so close to your clit. Able to feel heat radiating from him paired with the cool metal of his bracelet, the slight pressure above your pubic bone causes you to whine in frustration.
"Do something, Nonnie. Anything. Please."
Begging snaps him out of his trance, back to the present moment and the end goal he has in mind. Fingers slide down tantalizingly slow to tease at your entrance — gathering up more of your arousal — before easing just as painstakingly slow inside.
Groaning at the same time you do, additional filthy and wet noises fill the room when he sets a harsh pace to drive his fingers into your pussy. Months of practice allow him to quickly find the spot to stroke that has your toes curling, body writhing with the need to grab onto something. Vernon's eyes dart to how you grab at the bedsheets in an unforgiving hold.
Nervous you might somehow tear them (definitely not the first time), he reluctantly removes his hand from your warmth. Mildly amused at the way you release your death grip only to pound a fist against the mattress, the jingle of your charm sounding sweet despite your apparent vexation.
He ignores your laser beam glare, entranced by the clear strands that stretch as he spreads his fingers. Smirking with his tongue running along his upper teeth, he turns back to you and waves the digits tauntingly.
"Open."
You obey without hesitation, granting him access to stick his fingers into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around them, more intent on reminding your boyfriend of the way you sucked him off earlier than how you taste.
It doesn't matter if that pleases him or not. Because soon he's pulling his fingers away, not leaving you empty for long. Stripping down, he's back hovering over you before you can whine. Holding his cock with one hand, he taps it teasingly against your cunt only to lose reason and throw his head back at the incredibly loud, wet slapping noises. Quickly returning his focus to not miss the droplets that spray out to coat both of your thighs as he does it.
"Want me to fuck this tight little hole?"
"Mhm, of course."
"Whose pretty pussy is this?"
"Belongs to you, baby."
He spits again so it lands right where the head of his cock spreads apart your pussy lips upon its entrance. You might've told him to save his saliva to spit in your mouth but you're too blissed out by the whole insane situation. 
"Arms around me, love." Vernon's freed hand lands to cage you between his arms as he slides in with more ease than expected, filling you up completely that it knocks the wind out of both of your lungs. "So fucking wet for me, ah."
Your inner walls pulse and contract around his cock as usual, yet it's a different feeling than normal. Rather than tightening so hard around him that he can barely breathe, it's more of a slick suction that makes his head spin. His cock is quite literally drowning in your pussy. If he thought the sounds of fingering you were filthy, the amplification of wet slaps as his hips snap furiously is somehow even impossibly filthier.
"'m not gonna last long." Your boyfriend would probably feel pathetic for the lack of stamina but the scratches along his shoulder blades inform him that you're just as far gone. "Gonna fill you up, nice and full just like you like it, baby."
As your mouth opens in a reciprocating moan, Vernon finally does what you desire. He spits, proud of his perfect aim into your mouth. You swallow without being told, eyes rolling back in delight and carving crescent moon shapes into his skin. That's all it takes for you to cum, shaking as you cling to him.
"More," you pant out, "do it again. Please!"
If he could speak, he would tell you how absolutely gorgeous you are. Instead, he does as asked, in awe of how readily you take every piece of him. You already have his heart, his soul, and his love. He's given his release after you've begged him to fuck you raw — and well, now you've taken his spit. 
Gee, how romantic.
Vernon's pace hastens, intent to give you all of his cum before overstimulation sets in. Your legs wrap around him, reading his mind — or more like your body instinctively craves to be filled. He chants your name like a mantra before giving in and spilling inside, shuddering as his hips have no choice but to press tightly against you with the aid of your rather cute koala grasp.
"Fuck, you're so hot."
He buries his head inside the crook of your neck, laying his whole body weight on yours and refusing to budge. You hum, letting your head clear as your hands run up and down across the marks you left on his back.
"Told you I wouldn't break."
"Hm, do you still love me?"
You let out a huff of air, feeling his lips curl up. "Adore you, you idiot. My love is as strong as my trust in you."
"What would I do without you?"
"Said you would die."
"I would," Vernon affirms with conviction, "what would I do without anyone's mouth to spit into."
You feel absolutely no remorse delivering a light slap on his ass. "And now maybe you won't."
"Hey! You promised!"
His jolt upwards causes you both to grunt, a reminder that he's buried inside of you still. Testingly, you clench gently around him and he groans in protest.
"So, you'll do it from now on?"
He shrugs. "If that's what you want. You know I'll do anything for you."
Of course. That's another thing you love so much about him so much.
"Perfect, now spit in my mouth again, baby."
You take the opportunity when he cocks his head to the side to tug him down, fingers playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck. He melts against you when your lips press against one another, readily opening his mouth when your tongue prods for entrance, now understanding what you mean.
After a long, lazy makeout session causes you to part for air, you brush your nose against his. "I don't know what you were so concerned about when we swap spit all the time."
Your name falls out of his mouth in a flustered stutter before you shut him up again with another smooch. As you giggle against his mouth, Vernon presses harder into the kiss — whether out of embarrassment or revenge — you aren't sure but you relish it. Enjoying the intimate moment with the love of your life.
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onlyseokmins: January 2023 ©
Taglist: @joshibambi @pandorashbox @rubyscoups @woozluv @darlingvernon @charcharfairy @httpswonwoosglasses @yeosayang @buffhoshi @horanghae8star @noraehey @misssugarlips @onlymingyus @tinkerbell460 @aceofvernons @dejavernon
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bonny-kookoo · 10 months
Text
Jungkook
𝐒𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐬 𝐓𝐨 𝐋♡𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 [Part 1 Teaser]
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"Are you seriously having a boner right now?"
Tags/Warnings: Fuckboy!Jungkook, Fuckgirl!Reader, Angst, Misunderstandings, Friends/Enemies to lovers, Very suggestive, adult, hurt and comfort, smut, did I mention angst? It's worth it in the end tho promise, Jungkook is such a MENACE in this
Length: ~700 Words
𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜.♡
-> Masterlist
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That longing for you isn't just sexual for him. Absolutely not. But he can't really be mad at his dick for being very happy to witness the sight of you in your simple black leggings, shaping your legs into what he can only describe as the intro to a lot of his dirty fantasies.
All of them involving him either taking them off to various degrees- or simply ripping them open if he's feeling particularly eager.
"Are you seriously having a boner right now?" You whine, sitting down next to him on his couch, and he just laughs, no shame felt by him whatsoever. He's always like this, and he loves that he can be like this with you- though it's also pretty frustrating, considering that nothing he does, no route he chooses, no plan he comes up with seems to lead him anywhere with you.
"It is in a semi right now, actually." He bluntly replies after calming down, leaning against the side of his couch, watching you with a smirk you can't help but be affected by. "Wanna check?" He wiggles his brows suggestively at you, and you shake your head.
"Absolutely not, keep that thing in your pants, sir." You huff, taking the remote from the table to zap through the various channels, trying to ignore his eyes on you. Maybe hanging out with him was a bad idea, especially since you should technically be packing your things for the upcoming move. But he's asked so nicely, and you're way too weak compared to him, mentally and physically- so honestly, you deserve this torture now.
It's always like this. And if you weren't such a liar, you could have it a lot easier with him.
Or you wouldn't have anything of him at all.
"Sir, huh?" He hums, as if to test that word out on his tongue, the wet muscle moving over his fresh piercing next to his older one on his lip, eyes looking at nothing. "Nah, doesn't have a good ring to it for me." He shrugs, adjusting his legs- as if to proudly flaunt his still very much half-hard dick underneath his grey sweats in your face. "Never really been into that whole Daddy-Sir-Title calling honestly." He confesses easily, arms crossing as he watches what you've chosen for now on the TV. "Call me daddy." He suddenly asks you, and you look at him with wide eyes.
"What? No!" You deny, and he rolls his eyes.
"Sucks dick daily but can't call her best friend Daddy, you're really something." He jokes, and it makes you a bit nervous- because he's right. That doesn't fit your story at all. And you'll need to keep it up for at least another week, before you can leave and he'll forget all about it in half a year. "Come on~!" He whines, playfully kicking your thigh.
Your body is so soft, every touch giving him a teaser of what he could do. More things to think about. More food for his inner thoughts. How his fingers would press into your flesh, how your ass would look riding him, how your tits would barely fit into his palm.
"Why would I say that?" You ask him, and he shrugs, smiling again.
"I wanna know if it.. feels any different if you say it to me." He shrugs almost innocently. "Because, you know, feelings and all." He tells you, and everything freezes for a second.
You need to escape. You don't like where this is going at all.
"Your feelings are in your dick, Daddy." You snap at him in a way you hope displays confidence, but the look on his face makes you stop in your tracks for a moment, as he seems to process what you just said. And after a moment, his eyes seem to warm up way before the corners of his lips can follow up to display a smile, before his head falls back, looking after you as you walk into his kitchenette.
"It really does feel different.." He mumbles to himself as he watches you search through his freezer, probably for icecream. But it doesn't feel different in a sexual way-
it more so makes him curious as to what you're hiding from him, your avoidance of things like this by now terribly obvious.
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sunnylands-world · 1 year
Note
and if you do write for him maybe professor draco smut 🫣
Wrong answer
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Pairing: professor Draco x student reader
Summary: you're gonna fail potions but your professor has an offer to help you pass…
Word count:1,043
Warning: fingering, oral [fem receiving], unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it this is fictional), dirty talk, sir kink, professor kink, light spanking [he does it once], praising kink, pet names [little girl] reader is of age!!! I think that's it let me know if I missed anything.
Universe: professor
A/n: THANK YOU FOR 900 FOLLOWERS AHHHH!!! WERE ALMOST TO MY GOAL!!!
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You bite your nails, eyes pacing as you await the arrival of your professor. It's not that he's cruel, it's the fact that you'll be trapped in this room with him knowing you'd thought of him in ways a student shouldn't think of a teacher. The door was pulled open, startling you from your anxious thoughts.
"I do suppose you have the basic things you need right ms.[Last name]" he greeted taking a seat at his desk.
your eyes overlook the older professor missing his question. he looked the same as always, a glare with glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, blonde lashes above his sliver blue eyes, his all-black suit except for the dark green tie, and the rest was tucked away under his desk at the moment.
"I don't like repeating myself so answer my question or leave me to assume you don't have what you need" he states, you swallow meeting his piercing gaze.
"Yes sir, I brought the notes I need help with" you replied. He hums in acknowledgment before standing. He's moved to your side leaning over your shoulder to check over what's written on the paper. your breath comes to a stop as if you're afraid to breathe around him.
"breath [name]" he whispers, his hand coming to your shoulder in a firm grip. you try to do as he says but it falls on deaf ears.
He leans closer and says, "I think I have an idea for our lesson."
If someone would have told you you'd be bent over for your professor, you would have replied-
"Please, just touch me already sir." you whimpered. He had been teasing you for each answer you'd gotten wrong. his cold fingers would rotate on your clit or push in just enough to have you moaning out before pulling them away. He chuckled.
"I am touching you, you needy little girl" he responded from behind your open legs. your skirt was flipped up and he was sitting back watching your pussy drool for his attention. his large hands covered both your ass cheeks before you felt the flat of his tongue licking through your lips and catch on your clit as it peeked through them. he let the saliva run free on your pussy, mixing with your arousal as it came out of you. he latches on to your bud sucking at it like he was drinking from a straw. your legs struggle to stay open as he eats you out sloppily, making a mess of your wetness.
"you taste so fucking good" he groaned, nipping at your inner thigh. you could just picture the lower half of his face smeared with juices and spite running down his chin. He didn't say anything else before you felt the wet muscle buried in you.
"oh fuck sir" you let out, body resting on the table till a hard slap comes to your ass making you shoot up and grab the corners of the wooden desk. your eyes look around the empty potions class before they roll back feeling two fingers prying into your warmness. his tongue is back on your clit repeating the sucking motion. your cheeks burn while you bite your lip, grip tightening on the wood with your hips jerking as you near your release, but he pulls back making you cry bucking your hips against nothing.He's standing behind you, shadow dark against the floors.
"spread your legs wider for me" he ordered and you comply spreading them as wide as they can go.
"good girl" he says, planting a kiss on your back through your wrinkled button-up. a clunking sound is heard before his tip is pushing at your entrance.
"I need you to relax so I can fit inside little girl" he inhaled, you take a deep breath letting your body rest until he's completely rutting into you, stretching your walls to fit around his cock. you feel dizzy as your body is rocked against the desk. you're letting out small yelping sounds in between the thrust into you. The stretch burns deliciously and your tummy ties sweet knots that have your body spasming on top of the school work. He leans forward, putting his bigger hands over yours.
"you can take it" he whispered, his teeth grazing your ear breathing heavily against your neck.
"Professor," your mind runs circles from how intimate it all feels. Your toes are squeezed tight in your sneakers and you're sure you look cock drunk with a tint on your cheeks, sweat coated with your eyes rolled back.
"yeah that's right, fall apart for me little girl. Take it, take every inch." he rambled, slamming into you, making the room fill with a screeching noise along with your moans and slapping skin. Your warmth swallows his thick, veiny, cock as he pounds into your g-spot, his hips striking your ass while you mutter things you don't even understand but he responds when he does.
"it-its feels so good sir." you moan like you had a taste of your favorite frozen dessert.
"Yeah, you like it when I use you like this,'' he answered.
"yes, please don't stop" you whine and he chuckles. "not till your cum is all over my cock little girl." he keeps that promise, still fucking into your quivering walls as they clench around him desperate to keep him buried there. the knots in your belly are pulling loose slowly triggering you to rock back against him.
"Good girl, take what you need," he says, gripping your waist, probably bruising the skin with his calloused hands. your legs shake against the table as you repeat his name on a loop before your breath hitches, heat spreads over your skin, and your walls flutter as you soak his cock with blurred vision. He's still going as you fall limp on the desk.
"Almost there, you did so good, taking me so well" he praises; his muscles tense against you before he's flooding you with every last drop of his seed.
"fuckkk" he growls, fingernails digging in your skin till you hiss.
You didn't study much, but you know you're Passing the lesson for making professor Malfoy cum and you'll take that to your grave.
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Request open 👐
Draco's lovers and requests: @alexxavicry , @sarahthehuffpuff, @supercoffeeblogs , @thatwattpadobsessed, @ameliaclare04 , @kyracanwrite , @animeloverfreak310 , @imafangirl22, @phildunphyisadilf @jac1ndaa
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ethereal--muse · 15 days
Text
𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝
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𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭. 𝘕𝘰𝘸, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭...𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘶𝘦...
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: tony stark x daughter!reader (platonic) ; steve rogers x reader; brock rumlow x reader; dark-ish!rafe cameron x reader; ward cameron x brock rumlow (platonic); bucky barnes x reader (platonic; maybe romantic later)
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: noncon; sexual violence, physical violence; mental abuse; verbal abuse; age gap (reader is turning 20 in future chapters while Rumlow is in his early-fifties); pre-civil war; blood; violence; choking; talks of murder; politics i know nothing about lol. 𝗜𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘀𝗲 𝘂𝗽𝘀𝗲𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂, 𝗗𝗡𝗜
𝐚/𝐧: reblogs, comments and asks are always welcomed. 𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴. pls send me more requests <3
✶𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭✶
𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @willowpains @rovckwells
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You didn't quite remember your wedding day...or, as you called it, the day of your death. You couldn't believe your own father made you do this, selling you to the monster you've always avoided. You felt like a little sheep being fed to a wolf.
You were drunk that day, drunk on your own tears. You were young after all, too young for this cruel life and world. Every wish, every dream and every hope of yours was crushed that day, turning you into a plain, alive soul, forced basically to live.
Brock Rumlow grew incredibly much the past years, becoming the principal leader of New York, Florida and a wide part of Washinton. His dark aura had always terrified you as a child, usually when he came into your home and discussed business with your dad. You never understood why your dad, such a good man in your perspective, would make deals with him. This thought haunted you as you grew up.
But being thrown directly in his arms as soon as you were old enough was pure torture, unimaginable for you.
You still remembered the night before your wedding, as you begged your father, Tony Stark, on your knees not to make you do this. But, obviously, your pleas and cries were ignored, his "career" and "business life" were more important for him that his own fucking daughter.
Somehow, you still managed to love your father, because, after all, he was the only family you had. But, deep down in your achy soul, you were numb towards him for what he did to you.
Of course, men did not care. They never cared. But you did. And it wasn't fair, it was your life. They had no right to take it away from you.
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You watched the fat drops of the rain running on the huge glass of the bedroom. It was quiet in the massive mansion, your husband was not home, thankfully. Your thoughts wandered, as always. You couldn't sleep, you missed your dad, you wanted to be home, not in this dark hellhole.
Your spirit was broken. The first days you tried to fight Brock back, you tried to resist. The dark bruises on your face reminded you of how fucking stupid you were. You had also tried to talk back, ignore him. The memories of your swollen lips, your cutted stomach, bruised hips and sore core were tattooed on your brain, reminding you every single second of who actually owned you and what was your life like now.
Distant barks of the dogs pierced through the massive wooden door and you flinched. Your heart skipped a beat. "no, no..." you whispered. He was supposed to be gone till next weekend.
You looked around and grabbed a sweathshirt, pulling it over the thin white dress quickly, and praying you'll get to the balcony before he enters.
You opened the gigantic door as quietly as possible, and you heard him. His voice deep, the twisted tone and everything made you fill up with horror. He was shouting at his men. The black dogs were between his legs, wiggling their tails, happy to see him.
You shot your glance down, and you felt his burning gaze on you. Now you had to go next to him, for your own sake.
You weren't stable on your own legs, feeling your knees buckle as you approached him as fast as you could.
Rumlow took a big step towards you and wrapped his arm around you. It was heavy and rough, not even trying to seem loving. This was his nature after all: twisted; monstrous; depraved...You winced when his fingers pressed in your waist and the bruises there.
"How about a pretty smile for me, sweetheart?" he muttered in your hair. You looked down, trying not to run from him and from this entire damned life.
He wasn't pleased with your disobedience, but fear paralysed you. You just couldn't think.
He barked an order again and another of his men brought him a glass of thick alcohol. You only looked down, praying that he has another things to do.
You tried to pull away from his grip, but he strenghtened it. You hissed as he started dragging you to his office. It was bad, you knew it.
Some of the men opened the door and the scent of cigarettes, alcohol and cologne burnt your throat. The tremendous room was dark, only the lights of New York coming through the window, butvthe lights were turned on quickly.
Rumlow stepped in before you and you followed him, just as the pretty little quiet pet you were.
You went past him and sat down on the enormous leather couch, trying to make yourself as small as possible. You started fidgeting with the sleeves of the sweathirt as you looked down.
"We're havin' a big night...my partners are coming to discuss business..." he started, and you looked up at him. "Behave..."
Your fear was replaced with annoyance. Of course, after all, you were young and you somehow...forgot your state.
You get up and try to leave. "Did I tell you to leave?"
This time, you rolled your eyes. "You don't have to-"
All of a sudden, your jaw was gripped in a steel grip, and you were pushed in the wall behind.
Your heart started beating faster and tears pooled your eyes. "Don't fucking cross me, baby. I thought you learned that already."
"I-I'm so-orr-" you whispered as good as you could through his grip. Your heart was beating fast, questionably fast, as you cursed your actions.
"Shut the fuck up!" he shouted and you flinched hard. "Learn your place. I could fucking kill you, remember that." he finished, releasing your jaw.
"D-do it! Please..." you cried through sobs.
He chuckled to himself mockingly. You were terrified, angry and tired. "You really are a stupid little girl, aren't you, swetheart?"
When he turned back to you, you flinched and tried to back off as fast as you could. He grabbed the hair from the back of your head and you winced. "I said I could kill you, not that I would. I paid millions of dollars for you. Fucking millions!" he roared. "I forgave your daddy of his huge fucking debt, only for you."
You flinched and choked sobs, hating to hear the curses in his mouth.
"Don't worry, baby, I won't kill you...I need you alive. I got rid of every whore and club just for you, my ungrateful little slut." Your gut twisted with disgust as you tried to avoid his eyes.
Rumlow sighed and tightened his grip on your hair, pulling your head back, to look at your face. You felt infant, caged. "If you misbehave, I'll slit your daddy's throat, understood?" he asked. You felt sick and quickly nodded, as his grip allowed. "and, I'll keep you in a fucking basement as my personal slut and you won't see the light of the day again, trust me."
You sobbed, tears running freely now. You couldn't breathe. You wanted to die, to disappear.
He let go of your hair and grabbed your jaw instead. He roughly ran his thumb over your wet cheeks and over your lips and you flinched. "Go and put on something prettier, baby...and come downstairs, understood?"
You shakily nodded. "Use your words, baby..." he said as he let go of your face completely. "..y-yes" you whispered, looking down.
As you were getting out of the office, you heard the words that pierced through your soul.
"Oh, and...don't cover the marks...those motherfuckers need to learn not to cross me."
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