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#edge of night incorrect
Found this beautiful thing on Pinterest and if this doesn’t describe my life at the moment then I don’t know what will
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morvaris-archive · 2 years
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updated the timeline a bit
this is still so funny to me. like candy said "no, my ancient sire and a bunch of hunters couldn't kill me, your 100 yo ass won't succeed as well"
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skylarsblue · 1 year
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I still have more. More Incorrect Quotes.
(Accidentally had a lot more fem!Y/N than intended but it's overall GN!) Alex: What made you think you’d be good for the military? Y/N: I worked at a Waffle House in America. Alex: Ah, alright, that makes sense.
-- (Interrogating Valeria)
Y/N: Look, Gaz, you know me. I can't- I can't do it. Gaz: Why not? Why can't you interrogate her? Y/N: Because I'm a bisexual with mommy issues, Gaz. And she's as pretty as she is scary. I'm already not that intimidating, she'll laugh at me when I start stuttering and then I'll just be horny. It can't be me. Gaz: ....okay, I'll ask Alejandro-
-- Y/N: I just realized something...I had a bad childhood. Gaz: Yeah we know. Y/N: What do you mean you know? Soap: Look at how you stand! People who had good childhoods don't stand like that. Y/N: How do I stand?! Gaz: Like Ghost. Ghost: ...I don't appreciate the call out but fair-
-- Price: Where are you going?! Y/N: To either get ice cream or commit a felony, I'll decide in the car!
-- Ghost after watching Fem!Y/N do an incredibly risky move: I just...Is she blind?? Suffering some form of brain damage?
-- (Tw; Hollywood Undead unalive song)
Y/N: My legs are dangling off the edge, the bottom of the bottle is my only friend, I think I'll sli- Price: EXCUSE ME?! WHAT ARE YOU ON ABOUT?? Y/N: Wh- No Captain, it's just a so- Price: GHOST GET THE BASE PSYCH ON THE PHONE Y/N: CAPTAIN IT'S A SONG I'M FINE- Well I'm not bUT NO WAIT HANG ON-
-- Valeria: *screaming in spanish* Y/N: ... Gaz: Don't. Y/N, blushing: I'm trying-
-- (During movie night; watching Venom)
Y/N: *pauses on that scene where Venoms sticks his tongue out at the guy in the street* ....Hear me out- Gaz: NO! NO. Y/N: NO NO LISTEN, LISTEN- Soap: Let them speak. Gaz: Don't encourage this! Y/N, pointing at the screen: LOOK AT IT! LOOK! Objectively you have to understand- Gaz: NOOO, it eats people! Soap: THAT TONGUE IS THREE FEET LONG AT LEAST! Gaz: No, I will not be hearing anyone out! I- GHOST, Ghost, back me up. Tell them they shouldn't want to fuck the ALIEN. Ghost, looking at the screen: Ethically, it's wrong. Gaz: Thank you. Ghost: ...objectively- Y/N: AHA! SEE?!
-- Ghost: *bends over* Y/N: *silently flips out* Soap, quietly: Wh-what? What are you-?! Y/N: SHHH *grabs Soap's jaw and turns him to look* Soap: *slack jaw* Damn- Y/N: fuckingdamnindeed- Ghost: *turns around* Soap: So it's your turn to pick dinner, what're you thinking? Y/N: Oh I dunno, maybe something pork related, uh, or cake- Soap: Aha, yeah...cake. Ghost: ....??
--
Fem!Y/N: I am not the mom of 141, that's ridiculous. Someone: You make all of them lunch every day with fruit cut into shapes, IN PERSONALIZED LUNCH BOXES Fem!Y/N: They need nutrition! Someone: You color code their items- Fem!Y/N: Look, if you were there for the item mix-ups you'd understand. Someone: YOU ARE LITERALLY FOLDING AND LABELLING THEIR LAUNDRY WITH A SHARPIE ON THE TAGS. Fem!Y/N: *holding Simon's skull boxers, writing his name on the tag* That- ...oh my god I'm the mom.
-- Ghost, watching Soap run past: WHAT DO YOU HAVE?! Soap, grinning & sprinting: A FUCKIN' BOMB Ghost: NO!!!
-- Price: Y/N, this is Lieutenant Riley, you can call him Ghost. Ghost: Y/N, looking him up and down: ...you got daddy issues? Ghost: ....maybe Y/N: Cool, same. Pleasure to meet'cha, sorry life gave you shit. Ghost, shaking their hand: Ditto. Price: *concerned sigh*
-- Price, walking into the common area at 10 pm: What in the world- Gaz, Soap, and Y/N: *all in there pyjamas with face masks on, eating snacks* Y/N: *slowly keeps chewing* Gaz: ...heeeyy siiirr... Price: It was lights out an hour ago, what are you lot doing? Soap: *slowly raises another face mask* ....Self care, sir? Price: ... Ghost, walking in at midnight for water: ....what. Soap, Gaz, Price, and Y/N: *stop gossiping* Gaz: ....hey. Soap: Evenin' L.T. Y/N: Howdy. Ghost: *looks at Price with a face mask on* Ghost: ...*sighs and sits down* Pass the Goldfish. Soap: Yeaaaah, good man! Welcome to the party!
-- Shepard: Is anyone here straight?! Price: ...*hesitantly raises hand* Laswell: *pushes his hand back down*
-- Valeria: *angry ranting* Y/N, a captive: Stop being so mean to me or I swear to god I'm gonna fall in love with you!
-- Ghost: What in the hell are you doing? Y/N: Laying in the rain. Ghost: Why? Y/N: If I lay here long enough, it feels like it washes the sad away. So I'm gonna lay here until the sad is gone. Ghost: You'll get sick. Y/N: Better sick than sad, sir. Ghost: ...*looks at the sky, back down, sighs* Ghost: *lays down on the tarmac* Y/N: Got a lot of sad? Ghost: ...Yeah. Y/N: If the rain doesn't take care of it, let's trade sads. Then it'll at least be a different kind of sad. Ghost: Not sure you want my sad. Y/N: Maybe not, but I don't think you should have to handle your sad alone either. Ghost: ...alright. Y/N: Cool.
-- Price: Simon, it's three o' clock in the morning. Why on earth are you making chocolate pudding? Ghost: Because I've lost control of my life.
-- Soap, with a gunshot wound: Do I regret it? Yes. Will I do it again? Most likely.
-- Y/N after doing something so badass it would fit in a movie: ...DID EVERYONE SEE THAT?? CAUSE I WILL NOT BE DOING IT AGAIN.
-- Ghost: You kidnapped the prime minister's daughter? That's illegal! Soap: Okay, Ghost, but what's more illegal? Briefly inconveniencing the prime minister's daughter, or destroying 141? Ghost: KIDNAPPING THE PRIME MINISTER'S DAUGHTER, JOHNNY! Fem!Y/N: Do you guys have like, a water or something? Snack maybe? No?
-- Y/N: I think there's been some confusion. I'm not the one in trouble here. Enemy Soldier: ...What? Y/N: There are only four of you. You'll need more than that. Gaz, hearing it over the intercom: ...they're gonna whoop-ass but we should probably go help them.
-- Someone: Why are you doing their straps for them? Price: They don't like velcro. Someone: Just do it yourself! Y/N: I'm not touching that stuff! I'll get neurotypical cooties.
-- Y/N, high on painkillers: If yo leg get cut off, would it hurt? Soap, in a hospital bed beside them: ...DUH Y/N: How though? Soap: Cause your leg got cut off! Y/N: Where you gonna feel the pain? Soap: In your le.... Y/N: Exactly bro! How you gonna feel the pain in yo leg if- Both: If your leg is gone! Soap: Whoooaaa... Y/N: Bro I swear, we're geniuses. Ghost, on his last brain cell: Fuckin'ell.
-- Ghost, about to lose his shit: Dear lord, I know we haven't spoken in a long time but if you could give me a little patience-
-- Gaz: Do you believe in God? Y/N: ...Yes & no. Gaz: Yes & No? What do you mean? Y/N: I believe there is a higher power, I believe a God exists. But...believing in God? Now that...haven't done that in a long time.
--
Gaz & Y/N: *dancing* Ghost: Can you two be serious for five seconds? Gaz, bustin' a move: Dunno sir, can you have fun for five seconds? Y/N: *stops and looks at Gaz* Gaz: *stops and is filled with instant regret* ...uh, sir, I- Ghost: Tell you what. I'll give you five seconds...to start running- Gaz: *turns to run and sees Y/N already yards away* YOU LEFT ME?! Y/N: I WANNA LIVE!!!!
-- Ghost: What are they doing? Price: Arguing in morse code. Soap: - .... .- - .----. ... / .-- .... -.-- / -.-- --- ..- .-. / ... .... --- . ... / .-. .- --. --. . -.. -.-- Gaz: -.-- .- / -- --- -- -- .- Soap: YOU FUCKIN' TAKE THAT BACK-
-- Soap: Keep your eyes closed, I have a surpriiisee!~ Ghost: You did your paperwork? Soap: I said surprise, not miracle.
-- Y/N, on tiktok: FOR ALL YOU NASTY ASSES IN MY DMS- *shows the team* THIS IS MY TEAM. STOP SENDING MY DICK PICS OR I WILL SEND THEM AFTER Y'ALL. Ghost: You've been getting dick pics? Soap: Who the hell's been harassing you online?! Y/N: SEE?? THEY'LL WHOOP YA ASS, SO LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!
-- Y/N, on tiktok again: Alright, backfired on me. For all of y'all who are now trying to be nasty by THIRSTING for my teammates, uh, no. Stop askin' for my Captain's marital status, I'm not gonna tell you. No you may not get my teammate's dicks, I will not be giving you their social media, stOP ASKING I KNOW THEY'RE HOT BUT NO-
-- (I've fallen down the rabbit hole of Karen compilations, so, that's why I thought of this)
Y/N: Goodbye sir! Male Karen: Fuck you bitch! Go suck off your captain you fuckin' whore!! Y/N: Sure, I'll do that, goodbye! Male Karen: Suck my dick, whore! Y/N: Can't! It's too full of military dick, you'll need to make an appointment, GOODBYE!! Soap: *wheeze* Gaz: Jesus. Christ. Ghost: I told you all America is shit.
(Bonus Note cause I can't put in anywhere else; on the topic of Venom + C.o.D. I know we have Soap in place of Eddie & Ghost in place of Venom, but hear me out. Y/N! being Ghost's host and Johnny being a third part. P o l y ! A u !)
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l13 · 1 year
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♡ König ♡
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THIS IS SOOOO BADDD LMFAOOOOO LIKE IT GIVES ME SECOND HAND EMBARASSMENT, BUT MAYBE SOME OF YOU WILL IGNORE MY BAD WRITING AND INSTEAD COME TOGETHER TO WORSHIP SUB KONIG WITH ME.
WARNINGS : NSFW +18 ONLY, female!reader, mommy kink, bondage, sub!könig cause.. i mean we've all heard him let's not pretend otherwise, face/thigh slapping, könig cries, lazy writing, not proofread
English is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any misspells, errors or grammatically incorrect sentences.
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okay but you making konig wear this cause he lost a bet and he's so nervous that he's trembling. He looks absolutely delicious, the lingerie sitting skin tight on his monster of a body, the material on the verge of tearing by how much it's being pulled apart by his pecs, “This is so embarassing...Can I take this off, already?” he whines, eyes glossy and ears red and you almost laugh “If you hate this so much... why are you hard, baby?”
“I'm not!-”  “Oh yeah?” you squeeze his hard cock over the black lacy underwear that he's wearing and he sighs, biting back a whimper “Then what's this, huh?”
“That's- I can't help it when you look at me like that liebling..”
You smile softly, “Does that mean you're always hard when you look at me?” your hand starts rubbing him over the fabric and his jaw slacks “On mission briefs, on the field?” he moans quietly at the thought, and you continue taunting him “You're so dirty, König.. Getting hard all the time just by looking at me?” you clicked your tongue disapprovingly “Such a pervert..”
“I'm not!! I-i lied..”
“You lied.”
He refuses to meet your eyes, thighs rubbing together as he shifts on his feet “Yes..”
“You know I don't like it when you-”
“m sorry!!Please, just... touch me,”
You look at him pointedly, raising an eyebrow, lips quirking up despite yourself and he sighs, hands fidgeting,
“Touch me, mommy…”
“That's better, baby.. such a good boy for me. But... you did lie to me just now.” könig gulps at your words, a shiver running down his spine, already imagining how the night would go. He was fucked.
<3
“Please…please I- I can’t.” you smiled innocently down at him, trailing your hand up his thigh “Please what?” könig whimpered, hips bucking up, trying to get as much friction as he can, “Just-fuck just fucking do something!” he cried, earning him a sharp slap to his cheek, and he gasped, skin stinging in the most perfect way,
“Ask me nicely, baby..” you pouted, hand grasping his jaw to make him look at you. His eyes were defiant, brows furrowed and jaw clenched tight but the tears threatening to spill from his pretty eyes  told a different story. “Please,” he gritted. “Make me feel good..” he breathed out, a tear finally falling down his cheek, and you grinned.
Your hand fell down on his thick cock, feeling him twitch under your palm and you failed to suppress a smile. “How pathetic.”
The rope that was holding his hands down suddenly felt tighter, and König threw his head back, crying out at the slight contact.
"And yet…" you rolled your wrist, gathering the precum at the tip of his cock, bringing your hand up to your lips to suck your fingers clean, you hummed appreciatively, staring at him with hooded eyes as he held his breath, "I've never wanted to fuck you more than I do now."
König almost came right then and there, just your voice was enough, just knowing how much you wanted him was enough. "Then do it! Ah-I'll do whatever you want just-just fuck me, yeah? Let me be good for you, let me make you feel good mommy-" he writhed, pretty cock all red and leaking precum from the several times he was edged by you, never once telling you to stop. Oh, he was absolutely loving this.
“König,” his name on your lips sounded awfully close to a warning and he held his breath, “Stop talking.” he moaned at that and you laughed in surprise “God, you’re such a fucking slut.” slapping his thigh you grabbed the soft flesh, leaving crescent moons on his skin as he hissed. You trailed your hands upwards, fingers barely touching him, pushing his hips back down forcefully as he went to raise them again, choosing to ignore his whimper. Moving yourself closer, you situated yourself over his thigh, hands now trailing up his chest, a sinful grin on your lips.
The feel of your drenched cunt on his thigh made him swallow harshly, flexing the taut muscles purposely and he reveled in the sight of you- the slight jump of your hips, the quick bite to your lip to stop you from letting out a surprised whimper, all of it made his eyes roll back, toes curling.
“Please… I- you’re so wet- just let m-mmf..!” you’d grabbed his face, fingers digging on either side of his cheeks and his eyes widened a fraction, the puckering of his lips almost making him look irresistibly cute. “I’m getting real tired of your shitty behavior, König.” he raised his eyebrows at that, eyes widening even more as he shook his head multiple times, and you clicked your tongue, face dangerously close to his as you hissed, “Whining, lying, now speaking when you’re not allowed to? You disobey me one more time and I leave you here to get yourself off. Let’s see who you’ll be begging then.” his eyes looked almost sad as you talked and your stomach dropped. Had you gone too far? You gave his cheek a soft pat, his mouth still parted in surprise and you bent down to leave a soft kiss on his lips. 
You chuckled as he chased your mouth, giving in and letting him give you multiple open mouthed kisses, his muffled moans going straight to your pussy. “Color, baby? That wasn’t too much was it?” you whispered, eyes searching his for any sign of discomfort and he shook his head again, “Green, so fucking green.”
You openly laughed at that. Of course.
So much for a good punishment.
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2023 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.
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anantaru · 1 year
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— dodging his kiss
including kaveh, thoma, xiao, scaramouche x gn! reader
꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, i love making them suffer
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— kaveh
"hey no fair! give me a kiss."
nonsense. utter nonsense. kaveh wondered what had started all of this.
the urge, or let's rephrase that, the sudden interest you took to squabble at every minuscule situation, alternating between being his sweet significant other or turning into a taunting little devil.
again, before he was about to leave for the akademiya, kaveh helplessly required from you to send him off with a kiss, just one, but as he went on to fill the distance between you both, you quickly tipped your head to the side in order for him to barely hit your cheek.
he's frowning, the warm air he exhaled tiptoeing on your skin.
"why are you like this?" for an individual as romantic as kaveh seemed to be, you sure had him on the edge the entire time, tickling out every sweet reaction you desired to witness and archons, was he easy to get to this state.
one might think that being roommates with the scribe surely had his sensitive nerves tightened, had them turned to clear, unbreakable diamonds that weren't able to be messed with.
"you're cute when you're angry." you shamelessly admitted back to him, benevolently conveying the sweetest smile you had stored while watching him pout, settling for a closer spot next to you when he ultimately caged you in with his arms.
and when he was hardly an inch away from your face, kaveh decided to give you a taste of your own, bitter medicine.
"really? so you're only cute when you're nice."
dramatically, and in his usual fashion, kaveh tipped his head back to deflect his attention from you to the ceiling, nervously waiting for a response back while also mentally praying to the dendro archon that he didn't cause you any pain with his words.
you see, it was quite seldom for him to tease you back, to push you over the edge because in reality he clearly enjoyed the differences in personalities you both shared.
it's also safe to say that he preferred your minimal plays to that of his roommates, who'd always go too far like last time when he casually decided to grab both keys, making it impossible for kaveh to sleep in their shared home so that he had to come over, in the midst of the night, to stay overnight at your place.
(not that you mind, if anything, you'd love it when alhaitham could repeat the corresponding situation as much as he desired to.)
your smile, in a sudden, slowly disappears when it after a couple of seconds, rose back up in a contagious laughter, your palm subconsciously hiding your mouth, "you're really bad at this."
with your final words, you quickly grabbed his chin to pull him closer for a kiss, missing his bewildered guise when you drew yourself back again.
"i have other qualities, you know?"
kaveh spoke in a low tone, a little hazy, still seeking for more when he had long since forgotten that he actually wanted to leave for the akademiya.
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— thoma
"hey." kindly, thoma carried your hand in his palm when he gently brought you to his warm chest, "my break is almost over."
he looks sullen, thoma was saddened that he couldn't spend more time with you, just a little longer, but it had been quite a busy evening today in which he was greatly required, his helping hands were obviously not to be compared with any other.
thoma gingerly hooked his arms around your waist before flaring his soft lips over your forehead, attempting to lower his face to place a chaste, goodbye kiss on top of your lips.
little does he realize you didn't actually plan to receive said affection from him as you swiftly flopped your head to the right direction so he'd clumsily hit your ear instead.
"uh-" at first he thought it was him who took an incorrect approach on this, supposedly seizing the right opportunity at the wrong time.
"i'm sorry." he nervously laughs at you while anxiously rubbing his neck, his eyes a bit scrunched together.
you shouldn't be so joyful when he tapped right into your scheme, fell into it head first, more so when he attempted to kiss you right again, this time being slightly embarrassed and irritated that he had messed it up the first time.
because how on earth did he even manage to accomplish that?
and when thoma carried on with his endeavor, you, at full tilt, angled your head to the left side, ensuring that he missed again.
as disoriented as he was at present, he recalled the past few seconds and skimmed through the situation at hand, his undisturbed utterance evolving into a coquettish guise, "really now?"
your chest muscles pitched together when you puffed out a breathless laugh, excessively amused by his bafflement, well, maybe you were a little pain sometimes, but that's what made thoma fall in love with you in the first place.
"my love." he instantaneously speaks up upon catching a glimpse of your triumphant smile bolstering around the corners of your lips, "i need a kiss from you, right now." he made sure to speak the last words exceptionally clear, as to get his point across.
you're welcoming him, eventually twisting your hands around his neck to place a warm kiss on his lips, mumbling out an innocent 'sorry', yet you cannot find the proper tone in your voice to say it, because in reality you weren't sorry in the slightest.
"why do i feel like you aren't actually sorry?"
though bristling with joy, thoma wasn't actually oblivious as well as new to your usual approaches.
the hilarity of it all was heartwarming, or the new perspective of affection shared by you.
before you let him go at last, you gently pulled him to you so your lips would hover on his ear, aiming to set your intentions clear.
whispering, "because i‘m not."
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— xiao
on a tranquilizing evening, your lashes slowly fluttered wide to divulge your eyes to xiao while still remaining enclosed by his arms.
idly, you paid attention to the low thumps of his heart under his ribcage. Your grin was wide from ear to ear, happy at how peaceful it had gotten when you perceived how xiao begun to sluggishly roll himself up.
he tried his utter best to rouse himself from the relaxing atmosphere, to split himself from the slothful— he so referred to it, climate to return to his established routine.
"i have to go now." his golden eyes were all the more compelling under the dim lighting, illuminating their instinctive glowing when he centralized his focus on you. "i will return afterwards."
his breathing nervously hitched, a little, before he decided to add something to his intuitive words, "if you want me to."
delicately, you placed your hand on top of his to calmly ghost your thumb over his knuckles, "of course, i always want you to visit me."
at the realization of your words, xiao's face elated with a rosy shade, a diligent smile creating small wrinkles on his handsome face while his ears tipped a red color.
with another innocent flutter of his eyelashes, he carefully sank back to your frame, aiming to complete his visit with a serene, pacifying kiss.
but, given you were on quite the adventure today, or maybe you had gotten a bit intrigued and interested as to how someone like xiao would react to your almost menacing schemes, you directly dodged his kiss which had him hit your pillow instead.
oblivious to the entire situation you had carefully planted onto him, his face shrunk, "i.. i apologize." yet before you could retort to his words, he insisted in trying it a second time.
his gaze was visibly confused, again when he sought out your left cheek as a substitute, suffering once more when you skillfully dodged it without moving a single muscle.
his reverent, peaceful behavior was threatened by you, as well as your, over the top, innocent stare even after pulling through with your evilness.
"what's the meaning of this?" xiao was commenting on your behavior, his lips were vaguely pursed in a confused way, accentuating the small wrinkles on his forehead. "what do you mean?"
you acknowledged your boyfriend's question but replied in an opposite direction, concealing a bright laugh.
xiao's eyes were a tone lower when he fully sank to you, just about to nearly tower over you.
"you're doing this on purpose." he carefully placed your cheek in his palm before gently ghosting his thumb over your lips, as to try to regain some sort of control over the situation because now, he had you actually figured out.
yet do not get him wrong because contrary to popular believe, xiao found it quite amusing whenever you set forth a somewhat childish, playful behavior like this one in particular.
you weren't a boring human and the small ministrations were usually the highlight of his entire day, like a ray of sunlight peaking from behind the dense, darkened clouds.
"maybe i did." you bluntly chimed back to him, audaciously smiling and cradling his wrist with your hand while leaning into his palm, absorbing his welcoming affability.
"and why is that?" his voice grew calmer and soft, xiao didn't smile often but whenever he did, it's as if the whole world would stand still of a sudden, allowing time to freeze on its entirety.
his senses began to feel the tranquility in your lowered breathing as he suffocated the distance from you, tamely positioning his lips on top of yours, rendering you speechless.
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— scaramouche
fundamentally speaking, when scaramouche appeared to be piqued by an irritating occurrence, it was often for him to find comfort in your company, purifying in your gentle clasp.
"the audacity some people display on a daily basis." he heaves at you, slurring while anger thrummed in his body. "whatever." he clicked his tongue.
quickened, scaramouche rubbed his eyes, tampering through his thoughts when his lids fluttered wide to scamper over your face. "at least this boring day is close to its end." your brightened laugh served as a response to his mumbling, vibrating through his being.
archons, how dearly he had missed you, scaramouche longed to see you each passing hour of the day, to at last, be tightly entangled in your arms again, candidly arriving home.
yet as he was appearing to nervously fidget with your shirt, amplifying that he was in his thoughts, you tilted your head to the side to conveniently survey over his features.
and when he noticed, a rush of excitement tipped its way to his cheeks, tugging at the hem of your shirt.
"i think you haven't kissed me today, kuni." you suddenly speak, complying with his thoughts and sometimes scaramouche asked himself if you actually were proficient in reading his thoughts.
"i haven't?" he's a little coy, scattering his hand over your collarbones before settling on your cheek, blood rushing through your face, "i should change that."
you made sure to give yourself a mental applaud later by how easy you had him laced around your finger with kuni being perfectly set for your so called prank.
he didn't waste much time to get to his promise, eagerly striving to kiss your lips when you swiftly clasped your hand on top of your mouth, leaving him behind— utterly bewildered.
his hands tightly clung into the soft bedsheets next to you, his brows furrowing together in confusion, "seriously?"
with all the galling, tiresome people scaramouche had to deal with today, this surely was the icing on top, not to mention how it came from his own significant other.
he slowly pulled away to see you laugh frantically, trying to figure out how to explain this to him, "so this is funny to you?" he takes a moment to summarize before at once, targeting your belly to tickle and pinch the flesh.
you squealed out in surprise, "ah— no please!" unexpectedly you began to beg, evoking whiny screams from your throat, which were now thoroughly in vein, your once innocent scheme twisting into his grasp when scaramouche continued to tickle and pinch you, "now, now."
he's lowering his face to you, smiling when he perceived your warm cheeks and amusing expression, his voice tinted with something akin to hilarity and glee, "how disgraceful of you to fool me like this."
"you're one to talk." you immediately bite back, your hands lifting up to his face to playfully squeeze his squishy cheeks in your palms, "i was trying to see how you'd react."
you disclosed your real intention behind your show, innocently pouting as to convince him to stop the abuse on your belly.
"i think i deserve more than that." scaramouche proceeded to ghost his hand over your stomach, sinking closer to your frame to try again, with you this time knowing well to suffocate any tricks in the near future.
you're greeting him with an affectionate kiss, melting into him while soliciting the warm hearted love you held towards each other.
"maybe i should punish you like this more often." - "please don't."
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©2023 anantaru do not share, copy, translate any of my work
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wandasfifthwife · 26 days
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(2) the curse of living in a small town | I got a bad idea series
—> masterlist
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southern!wandanat x fem!city-girl reader
tw: allusions to sex (didn’t happen, r just misunderstands), discussion of w&n undressing r while she was drunk bc r threw up on them, slight angst, two separate minor injuries (r), blood mention, mentions to past drunkenness (r), incorrect scared horse description?
a/n: in true me fashion this is published without being proofread. so excuse my choppy ass writing lmao
The sheets wrapped around you were too warm, and it often pulled you back to sleep. Any time you begin to stir, all you had to do was twist your body and you were falling asleep again. The sun was high in the sky by the time you actually opened your eyes.
The curtains were closed, but the air conditioning would push the corners so they’d flip up and let the light in. It didn’t take long to recognize that the room you were in was not a room you recognized.
You froze, dread piling within you as you took in each individual difference between the room you were in versus the one back at your grandparents. The coats hung behind the door, pictures laid on the vanity in front of you, a hand-made blanket thrown across the edge of the bed frame. Not to mention the smell—though pleasant—it was unrecognizable.
It took looking down at your current sleep wear to make you freak out. It wasn’t yours.
Everything on top and underneath wasn’t yours. Your heart rate seems faster than normal when you crack the door open. It’s quiet, and a sign for you to run out the door.
Your feet are bare, so the sound of the bottom of your foot sticking when it picks off the floor is embarrassingly loud. You’ve almost reached the first floor, feet about to meet the halfway mark on the stairs when you hear a voice beside you.
No rational thought came to mind as you rush down the stairs. Your left foot slips and you miscalculate the distance between the last step and the bench sitting across from you. It collided into the bench’s leg with a solid thud.
The wind gets knocked out of you, forcing you to hunch over and wait for the sting to leave. You don’t want to see who’s greeted you, ignoring it even as you miserably make it to the front door.
Across from you in the middle of their yard is Natasha. Though with how fuzzy last night was, she’s become a stranger to you. You turn to the left and book it towards the one thing you recognize at the moment, your grandparents home. You hear her call out to you, but you don’t waste any time running through the warm grass. All emotions related to embarrassment, regret, and shame fill you and force your adrenaline to kick it into overdrive.
Your grandma’s having a field day, laughing as she sees you through the kitchen window. She calls her husband over, the sight of you in almost nothing cracking him up hit he attempts to save your dignity.
He opens the door for you, not saying anything because he knew you’d rush past him and shut yourself in a room. Which is exactly what you did.
“That’s pretty early for a night owl like her,” your grandma laughs, looking to your grandpa. He has a sympathetic look on his face, still looking off where you ran up the stairs.
“I feel bad, honey.“
“It’s not that I don’t feel bad, I just think she’s a grown adult. She choose to get drunk, I’m sure she’s just embarrassed to find out she drunkenly cried over someone congratulating her for graduating college.”
That’s not the reason why you felt embarrassed. You had zero chance of knowing what happened last night until you talked to one of them. Confrontation wasn’t your strength, avoidance was. That’s why you’re caught up in this mess with your boss at work, you can’t tell him to give you a raise because you’re afraid of getting fired.
That’s how you feel now. You’re afraid of asking what happened last night because you’re scared of the possible situation. There’s no obvious physical signs of anything happening other than your clothes being changed. That being said, you still left your clothes over there. At this point, they can keep them.
The picture frames that covered the walls were photos from their marriage. Them smiling, a few of them kissing. It was beautiful and you were terrified you were to ruin it, what they have, after last night. Your home was even quieter than theirs, that was until your mother had begun to bang against your door.
“Get dressed, you’re coming with me into town.”
You realize then that all of your sudden movement from earlier catches up to you. Your mother realizes it too and thankfully allows you to sleep in more. After a few home remedies you’re feeling better, but not fully healed. When she finds you in bed at 3PM, she’s hurrying into your bedroom and pushing you to get out
“Tomorrow?”
“No,” she pulls the sheets off the bed, “fall for stupid tricks get stupid consequences, come on.“
You shy away from the laughs coming from your brother and grandparents when you make it downstairs. There was a small tray in the kitchen with a varying fruits. A small sticky note beside it with a personalized message towards you, telling you to take whatever’s left.
“Want to visit the diner in town? I’d like to visit my friend for a minute, you can get lunch?”
Your mom navigates the plans, pushing beside you. You make a small plate and grab more meds from the pharmacy tray in the furthest cabinet to the left.
“I don’t care, mom.”
She grabs the keys off a small hook and wonders off outside. Her actions telling you get yourself in the car within the next few minutes. You bother finds himself stumbling into the kitchen, “to set the record straight, I won.”
“Fuck off,” you mumble, grabbing your phone and tumbling out the door. Your mom pulled the car out front with the window’s down.
“Buckle your seatbelt.”
“We’re going down St Peters?”
“You’re still sobering. I’m scared you’ll pull the door open and fly out.”
“Mom,” you point towards where the city is, “the streets are 25, it’s slow. Just go.”
She still replayed her comeback to you, going on about how over drinking is terrible for you. Meanwhile her yapping was making everything hurt worse. You rest your head against the window as best as you can, trying to be mindful of the constant bumps due to the rock road.
“—you had cried like a baby.”
“I did what?”
“Cried last night.”
You groan, “I can’t believe I did that.”
“You did a lot of things,” she says eventually once you’ve gotten onto the road. Her sentence doesn’t help the downfall of emotions you’ve been experiencing since this morning.
“Have anybody in your sights lately?”
“Nope, still single.”
She prods further, asking, “are you going to get married? I don’t care how or when, just sometime before I die so I can have grandchildren.”
“I understand. You’ll be the first to know if I find someone.”
She turns down the street, onto where the most amount of buildings lie unless you want to drive for hours. It’s a thirty minute drive, decent enough to get what you’re needing. Food, supplies, send mail, or to set up market. There was a spot in front of the town’s diner, the one your mom chose and the one right by where a certain someone’s car was parked as well.
You climb out of the car, unsuspecting and following your mom into the diner. She pulls away from you almost immediately to talk to her friend who’s sat at a booth towards the back. You thought to introduce yourself, include yourself in the conversation between an old acquaintance. The both just behind her was where Natasha was, your eyes finding hers. You grew defensive, turning on your heel to sit at the bar instead.
The lady behind the counter takes your brisk order. The look on her face is also wondering why you’re this bothered by her presence. If it were a one night stand, it’s fine, they happen. Usually they don’t and with one running out into the field barefoot though.
She hands you the tea you ordered. You’re sure your expression is still tense judging by the fact her eyes never leave you until she’s rounded the corner. Whether she’s concerned, or noisy, it doesn’t matter. If she could tell you’re tense, you’re sure Natasha can tell if she so much looks your way.
You’re unsure about why, but you look over your shoulder. It was with a purpose to look at your mother, but you glued onto her again and freaked when you saw her get closer. Hands growing sweaty around the cold drink in your hands when she sits beside you. She wastes no time getting straight to the point, narrowing you with a stare.
“Why’d you run off this morning?”
The conversation you’ve been dreading was unraveling. You keep your eyes on the old tv, not sparing her a glance. She doesn’t budge. You finally turn towards her, meeting her stare, “do I know you?”
It was a complete lie that she seemed to beleive for a split second. She backed up, giving you enough space and time for your mother to come back. You were gone by the time she put the pieces together. The way you looked back at her, nervously swallowed when she got close, and sat still when she spoke to you. You definitely recognized her.
You ran into them again at the market a day later. Whoever they went, you copied, hiding behind anything you could to avoid being seen.
You ran into them again when Natasha was getting gas at the station you liked off Westview. You went above and beyond to push your seat back, putting yourself out of the span of her line of sight.
You ran into them everywhere. The only place they had yet to wonder into was your grandparents land. It felt like your safe zone, the area where they couldn’t roam.
That proved to be wrong when you crept into the stable at sundown, visiting the newer addition to the stable. You met him a day ago when your grandfather took you out to see him for the first time.
You sat in the corner of his pen on a stool, watching as he ate the feed you poured into his food mound into. Your grandfather mentioned needing him to get used to new people as they wanted to train and sell him eventually to a rider.
“Why’re you up so late?” wanda had asked almost as if she came out of nowhere. It startled you and the sound your hand made when it hit his feeder had him freaking out as well. Wanda’s quick to unlatch the door, pulling you into her. The wooden edge caught onto your skin, dragging and pulling it until it bled.
“Thank yo—“
“No need, my apologies for scaring you,” she looks towards the terrified horse, “and him”
“Ah no worries, he gets scared often,” you brush the hay off of your jeans, “why’re you in here?”
“We bought half the stable two years ago.”
Of course they did.
“Oh.”
“Guessing your ma didn’t tell you?”
You shook your head, reaching an arm out to slide it down the side of his snout, bringing him to eventually stand still. She waits patiently beside you, looking between you and the horse.
“Got yourself cut there?”
“I did?“
Her fingers weave under your arm, pulling it up and showing you the slice your arm took a minute ago. She looks saddened, “I’m sorry, angel, I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.”
“It’s just a small cut. I barely even knew it was there I’m so immune to them.”
She doesn’t look pleased. She invites you to her house, and you want her to leave. It’s not her, it’s you. You can still feel your nerves spike after all these days when you see them time after time again. Going back to their house would mean you’d have to see how the two of them are doing, and lately, they haven’t been in the same room.
If there’s one thing you remember from last night, was that they came together and were almost wrapped in each other’s arms.
“At least let me cleanse it before anything tries to infect it.”
You agree and she sits you down on the chair in the tack room, coming back a second later with a small bag. The cut did not draw any attention to you when it happened, but you’re thankful she noticed or else the blood could’ve spread onto your clothes or anything else you touched.
Neither one says anything while she rubs disinfectant on the gash. The horses in their stalls were making much more noise in how they huff and walk around. Being cooped up in a little cell would drive you crazy. Like being cooped up in this room with Wanda was suffocating.
“Have you had any meds since last night?”
“Yes,” you rush to look away when she glances at you, “ma has a supply in her cabinets.”
“Good.”
Oh my gosh you want to run back into the house and stay in there until you fly back to New York. She’s entirely calm and her fingers are steady, something you’re trying to copy.
“If you need anything, come visit.”
It was the undertone of her statement that confused you. It was inviting. She put the cotton pad into the trash, coming back to sit beside you. Her fingers were so gentle, hovering over your skin and unintentionally giving you chills.
“Thank you.”
Her smile so soft. She finishes putting the small bandage over your arm and walks back out to put it away. You don’t want to run now, partially because you’re with the one who’ll lay the truth down in a kinder way.
“What happened last night.”
You know she heard you when she laughs out loud, the sound light and airy. It confused you, bringing you to ask more questions. She motions for you to leave the room, the key going into the lock after.
“You got drunk and cried if Natasha or I tried to leave. We all decided it would be best if we just brought you to our house for the night. You fell asleep the second your head hit the pillow. Natasha heard you being sick late into the night, I believe it was 3AM? She left to help you—“
“That’s a wonderful story,” you cut her off in hopes to not hear the rest, but you’re incredibly relieved to find you hadn’t slept with them that night, “I am so terribly sorry you had to deal with that.”
“If you’d like your clothes from last night back they’re folded in our laundry room.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“We wanted to.”
You walk past the first few stables to grab your phone off the table you had set it on when you walked in. You flit it into your back pocket, “would you be alright if I stopped by to grab my clothes tonight?”
“Not at all.”
The front gate to the stable shuts. Wanda pulls a small flashlight, shining the light to help you both walk back towards their house. Her eyes were focused ahead, shorter hair covering half of her side profile.
“When I first met you, how long had you been married?”
“About three years,” she explains, “we got married in the summer.”
“The pictures in your home are beautiful.”
She thanks you, walking ahead to open the door to her estate for the both of you. The moon’s full, providing enough light that almost puts the flashlight to shame. It shows the shorter path ahead of you, marked by dried dirt and stones.
The door to their home opens and Natasha walks to stand in the doorway. The two greet each other with a kiss, whispering small pleasantries. It’s only for a second, but it singles you out and makes you feel you’re imposing. Natasha holds the door for you to enter, letting the screen door swing shut once you’ve all entered.
Wanda walks you through their house towards the laundry room, indirectly giving you a tour of everything you ran past in a blur that morning. The emerald green backsplash in their kitchen and wooden cabinets. Little miscellaneous items thrown about like a stack of papers and a random hair clip.
“Here,” she peeks into the laundry room, setting the clothes onto your open arms, “sorry they’re all cold, I promise they were warm this morning.”
You laugh awkwardly, the shy sound getting cut off from Natasha calling for Wanda from another room. You two found Natasha standing in the living room, holding an opened envelope. Shreds of paper were on the floor, results of her careless attempts of opening the letter.
“Why are we still getting mail from the Parsons? We finished their payment last week.”
Wanda takes it from her hands, scanning over the letter for only a second, “it’s possible they’ve forgotten, they’re entirely too old.”
Natasha mumbles under her breath and goes to place it with the other thrown about papers on their dining room table.
“I’m probably going to head out now,” you look behind yourself, ensuring that you’re actually walking backwards towards the door, “thank you for everything.”
“Course, angel. Have a good night.”
You smile, feeling like you’re being drowned underwater as you step down the porch. Their conversation can be heard even as you’re halfway down their driveway, the screen door doing nothing to separate building from the rest of the world.
You grow cold as you walk back home, the light and warmth their home brought escaping you with each step you took walking away from them. It’s loud back at your grandparent’s home, most everyone is situated in the backyard, but a few remain in the living room.
Your aunt greets you first, asking where you were before asking if you could help your brother with the dessert since apparently he’s “still recovering from last night.” You doubt that but you’re in no mood to fight.
Your grandparents are sitting on a one person couch. Legs are intertwined and hands held and it brings back a memory from last night in their home when you were laid over Natasha’s waist in a similar position. You leave the room with an aching feeling in your chest.
There’s times when you were unsure of how you were feeling. The reason why you felt off sometimes never making itself known. You were home with family, a plate with crumbs laid on the table between you all. It was fine, you were safe and in a warm building with food and water and everything necessary.
When the lights turned off in the house and everyone had gone to bed, you still felt a tight squeeze in your chest. You labeled it as a combination of so much happening the past couple of days, and the fact you drank more than usual just the night before. When you climbed in bed, you fell asleep looking at the little lit-up house down the road.
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intoxicated-chan · 10 months
Note
Use of spider venom (paralyzation) when you only want to be his one night stand. 🫠 he sees the act as an open invitation to something more
Noxious
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✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader
✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ You had a stressful night, wine and sex could fit it, right?... Right?
✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ I used translations from spanishdict.com. Please let me know if anything is incorrect. I am also trying to get at least one request out each day!
✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 1.1k
✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, NON-CON, YANDERE THEMES, alcohol use, swearing, fingering, biting, pet names (good girl, mi reina), venom use, paralyzation, slight drinking blood…
DARK CONTENT!! Minors, Do Not Interact! 18+
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Nox·ious // adjective
Harmful, poisonous, or very unpleasant. “They were overcome by the noxious fumes.”
You scroll through the angry texts from your family. With a huff, you put your phone on silent and turn it over, not wanting to watch your phone light up at each text. You just wanted to scream at the top of your lungs but you were in a bar where you wanted to relax and try to at least drink some emotions away.
You don’t see the bartender coming your way. They slide the wine glass near your phone, “Um, I didn’t order this.” First, you look at the wine, it being a deep red and then at the bartender.
“From the man in the corner, dressed expensive. He said to give you the top shelf.” Then they leave, walking off to help out other customers.
You take the glass in between your fingers and look around the bar until you find a man dressed expensive, like what the bartender said.
He seems to be on the older side, the man has a fair tan complexion and a short brown hair that is brushed back by his fingers.
His jacket is thrown over the chair beside him, his shirt has a few buttons unbuttoned and his tie is loose. You watch him take a few sips from his glass before he makes eye contact with you.
He seems to grin. He keeps his eyes on as he pulls his jacket off the chair and motions for you to take a seat.
Well, fuck it.
You stand and walk towards him. Drink in hand and avoid bumping into people. But your eyes remained on his brown ones, not once did he look away from you, even when drinking from his glass. Finally, you come to his table.
“Care to sit?” He invited.
“Um, yeah.” You take a seat, wine glass still in hand, “I’d like to thank you for this.” You take a sip. Fruity with a wonderful aroma and a sweet, dark flavor.
“You like my choice?” He asks, “I thought it might suit you.” He leans back in his chair.
“You chose well, what made you pick it?”
“All I saw was a woman looking down.” He answers.
“Well, I needed this.” Swirling your glass around before setting it down, “It’s been a stressful week.”
“Care to share?”
You shake your head, “I just need something to relax and the wine is perfect.”
All he does is hum, running his finger along the edge of his glass. He looks up at you, “Care for more wine?” Happily, he doesn’t press on it.
“I’m thinking for a little… More?” You suggest and he perks up almost instantly. You swear that you could see his eyes change colors for a second.
He leans in closer, throwing an arm over your chair, “What are you thinking?”
“I’d like to know your name first before I share.” You grab your wine and drink it.
“It’s Miguel, how about yours?”
“(Y/n).” You give yours.
Miguel carefully takes the glass from your hand and sets it down, then he grabs your chin, “Can I kiss you?” You nod, which makes him smirks, “I need you to use your words.”
“Please.”
“Good girl.” He whispers, closing the gap in between you two. Your eyes shut and your arms wrap around his neck.
One thing you forgot to mention was the way he spoke. The words fell off his tongue smoothly, his voice was deep and pleasant.
You whine when he pulls away, “Care to come to my place?”
You should’ve said no…
You laid in his bed, his body in between your legs and his lips remained on your. Your fingers ran and pulled at his hair, even clawing at his back.
His fingers curled inside your cunt, then his thumb strokes your clit. He feels you clench and your back arches off the bed as you let out moans.
He moves away from your mouth and kisses down your neck, “Eres tan hermosa.” (You are beautiful.) He hums, watching your face and how your eyes shut tightly in pleasure.
His fingers are crooked in just the right angle and he continues to fuck you with his fingers right through your orgasm and he doesn’t stop his movements.
Even when you grab his wrist and try to pull away. You felt yourself begin to shake, “Puedes hacerlo.” (You can do it.) You hear.
“S-Slow down, please.” You ask Miguel.
“Solo dame uno más.” (Just give me one more.) He begs.
But you shake your head, finally opening your eyes to meet his… Red ones? He can see the tears in your eyes and it makes him go even faster.
“Please, stop!” You manage to say through pants, trying to keep your mouth shut.
Finally, he stops. Miguel pulls his fingers out and watches you try to calm yourself down, “I… I think I need to go.” You sit up, avoiding Miguel’s gaze.
But you feel his eyes still on you, “You can stay, you know.” He pulls you closer to him, “I’m so sorry.” He says, planting a kiss on your shoulder.
You feel his hands move down to your waist, slowly pushing you back down on the bed. With a huff, “Just… Just make it quick.”
What you don’t see is the sinister smirk on his face.
Suddenly, his hand is slapped over your mouth and you feel the pain on the right side of your neck. His fangs pierced your neck’s skin, filling some of his mouth with blood. His other hand is immediately on your shoulder, keeping you pushed up on the bed.
It wasn’t long before the pain subsided and you no longer felt it, more like you no longer couldn’t feel anything.
Miguel pulls away from your neck and looks at you with adoration, he licks your blood from the corner of your mouth.
“You look so pretty like this.” Miguel murmurs, “Mi reina.”
What the hell is going on?!
“Don’t worry, the effects aren’t harmful. But I’ll be quick, just like you asked.” Miguel spreads your legs, and you can see him holding his cock in his hands.
You could only assume that now he pushes in because he lets out a grunt. Miguel keeps your head still, grabbing your face so his eyes remain on him.
A sick smile is on his face, “Todo para mí.” (All for me.)
You wanted to kick him off you. You wanted to scream, cry, scrub his touch off your body.
“I’ll take care of you, you won’t need to worry about anything anymore.”
You could only watch as he continues to thrust inside out you, watch how he throws his head back in pleasure, “Eres mía y solo mía.” (You’re mine and only mine.)
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© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copy, translated, or put my work on any other platform without my permission.
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papajscupcake · 6 months
Text
MY SWEET NOTHING
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MY SWEET NOTHING | SOFT!RAFECAMERON X FEM!READER | IMAGINE
PAIRING: Sofe!Rafecameron X Fem!Reader
SUMMARY: Just a night of cuddles, games and sweet nothings
WORD COUNT: 467
WARNING(S): None just a whole lot of Fluff also I have 15 drafts with pretty much done I just need to rewrite them but there should be more imagines and Incorrect quotes coming soon :) anywho enjoy Soft Rafe
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It was around 9:45 at night, the stars were shining in the sky twinkling down onto the OBX while the sun was already set making the sky hues of navy blues and dark purples whilst the suns edges peaked slightly over the waves of the gently splashing water of the marsh,
The couple laid in the king sized bed in the Cameron’s mansion, it was the first time in a week or so that the couple finally had time together since Rafe had been helping his father with the family business and the girl had been working alongside her best friend Kiara in their restaurant Kiara inherited from her father.
His girlfriend was rested between his open legs, her arms were securely wrapped around his left leg hugging into the muscly soft flesh of his thigh, her eyes were closed but not sleeping her face was pushed into pelvis rested just underneath his toned abs while her legs were curled as much as possible to her stomach grazing Rafe’s right leg.
His arms were rested comfortably on the top of her shoulder blades slightly leaning on the back of her head, he held his controller for the PS5 playing his slightly intense game of pro clubs
they have been in this position for about half an hour now just doing their own thing however it wasn’t enough for the girl
“Rafe” the girl called lifting her head up to look at Rafe in her lying down position
“Yeah princess?” Rafe asked continuing to focus on the game he was playing
“Nothing”She whispered once again digging her face into his abs Rafe glances away from his game to look down at the girl with a confused expression with his eyebrows raised
“Come on what is it princess?”he pressed pausing his game and resting the controller beside him on the bed to give the girl his full attention,
this made the girl shift her position to be lying on her back and looking up at the boy, Rafe with his now empty hands puts one on her jaw gently stroking her skin
“I just wanted to say your name” she said smiling shyly at the boy with her cheeks flushed a bright red, she turned on her side again closing her eyes, Rafe picks up his controller and begins to play the game again
a couple minutes later
“Princess”The boy said not looking away from his game
“yeah?” She asked opening her eyes staring at the wall ahead of her
“Nothing” he looked down at her to watch the smile he loved move then anything to appear on her face
the girl responded by digging her face into his bare stomach and giving it tender kisses making Rafe smile at the love of his life.
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storyarcscribe · 1 year
Text
Judgement
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Namor x Reader
Word Count: 870
Summary: You chose humanity over your heart. And now you were here to face judgement by the person who shattered it.
A/N: No Namor fics yet? *Thanos Voice* Fine…. I’ll do it myself. (LMK if we are digging this for a part 2 lol)
Warnings: 18+ Only, Lil smut (if I do a part 2 there will be more lol), angst, implied previous smut, possessiveness, suicidal thoughts, war, wakanda forever spoilers, possible incorrect Mayan language translation (tried my best with research but if anyone out there has feedback please let me know!!!)
Masterlist and How to Send a Prompt
Reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!
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You shouldn’t be here.
War raged, and yet you found yourself on the sand, standing at the edge of a turbulent ocean. The waves churned just as turmoil stirred in your veins. Your guilted thoughts raced, tears filling your eyes.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry.
I’m so sorry.
You stepped into the surf, too numb to the feeling of its icy waters.
I deserve this.
Forgive me.
The water stilled, as if in the eye of the hurricane.
And then, he emerged from the surface, molten eyes filled with wrath.
The wrath of a god.
Ku'ku'lkán.
Namor.
You fell to your knees, sand biting into the skin, transfixed by his fury.
He was just as you remembered so long ago…. So painfully beautiful, like the sight of a wave eroding a cliff side.
He became more than a god to you. Friend. Companion. Lover.
In the beginning, all he asked for was your loyalty and silence on him and his people. You gave him not only this but love. In return, he revealed himself parts of himself to you in those moments together, slowly showing you all of himself over time.
He gifted you something he never gave to anyone on land.
Trust and devotion.
You were gladly blinded by this dream of a man and woman in love... A man who made you laugh so hard until your sides hurt, painted you beautiful stories of his kingdom with words, brought you art and trinkets from the depths of his home, confided in you, taught you his mother’s tongue, and coaxed your utter undoing each night with his hands, his mouth, and his body.
He was the water, current, waves, and the depths of an ocean and people.
You fell in love with a god.
But a god cannot love a person who betrayed him and his people.
He chose war against humanity instead of you.
And you chose humanity instead of your heart.
He promised to kill you if you ever stepped into an ocean again the day you parted.
You deserved his wrath, forsaking him for the world above. This war had waged too long with violence committed on both sides, but the people of Talokan, who you had come to love through Namor, were being slaughtered. The guilt disintegrated what left of your heart remained. And you came here before your anguish consumes you, knowing it was would be the end.
You didn’t realize your head had bowed in shame until you felt the cool blade of his spear tuck under your chin, lifting it up.
His face was blurred in your tear-soaked vision, but you could see eyes churned with an emotion you feared to never see….
Rage. Anguish.
Your tears flowed silently, pinching your lips together for fear of choking on your breath.
He just stood there, the pressure of the blade never increasing or decreasing. He had seen battle since you last saw him, three distinct claw marks scarring his cheek. You ached for him and his suffering in this war. If only you stayed. If only you chose him.
If only.
If only.
If only.
And then the blade left your chin. He slammed the tip of it into the ocean floor, the sound of it rippling across the water.
Namor extended his hand.
You didn’t hesitate to place it in his, the warmth of his hand enveloping yours like the sun.
Namor’s eyes had calmed, the tempest in them before now a gentle current. You were lulled by them as he brought you to your feet.
He pulled you with him further into the water, his eyes remaining fixed upon yours.
And once you were weightless in the ocean, he pulled you to him, your body flush against his own with hand wrapped around your back. You’re warmed, the memories and feeling of him radiating through your body.
He cupped your cheek with one hand.
His decision was made, eyes softening.
Forgiveness.
Namor chose forgiveness.
And then you broke, tears continuing to fall as you sobbed. “Ma'taali'teeni' ajawo’.”
I’m sorry, my king.
That same hand gripped the back of your neck, your face now tipped up to meet his own. You could barely breathe as his gaze burned through your own.
And he breathed one word, carving it into your soul.
Mine.
His mouth crashed into yours, coaxing it open where he poured his fury, rage, forgiveness, and love with your own. He stole your breath, suffocating it as he adored your lips, your jaw, your neck. He repeated the word to you over and over again. Your core pulsed with the heartbeat rushing through your ears.
And then he murmured new words in whispers over and over your skin.
In k'aatech.
I love you.
You whimpered, tilting your head to the sky and arching into him as his adoration became desperate. He lavished an open kiss on the pendant at the base of your neck… A gift he gave you the first night he made love to you.
You were his that day long before he spoke the words to you now.
And then his mouth found yours again before he pulled you under a swelling wave, sending you both beneath the surface into that vast, endless blue.
To his home.
To Talokan.
-
A/N: TENOCH ILY I AM NOT OVER THIS MAN AND THIS MOVIEEE
Update: part 2 is being worked on 🫶😽
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bakugoushotwife · 6 months
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kinktober day fifteen: brat-taming kink
>>> god bless i love him so bad...brain rot for this plot...y'all should i make this one like a series fdskjkjgjkgj i swear to god i'm feeling this way about all my fics as of late!! this one has a lot of japanese symbolism and traditions included. i am not japanese and all my research came from different sources across google, but if anything is incorrect or insensitive pls reach out and let me know &lt;3
>>> starring: suguru geto x curvy!f!reader >>> cw: brat-taming, history/pining between reader and geto, face-fucking (m!receiving) edging (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), breeding, degradation/praise, pet names, creampie >>> wc: 4.6k >>> event masterlist:
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he didn’t love the idea, to say the least. he understands why a marriage is necessary. it humanizes him, makes him relatable, opens the door to more preaching topics. he didn’t understand why he had to marry his fellow sorcerer and old classmate—especially one as mouthy as you. you didn’t either, forced into it by the higher ups with hopes you could bring suguru back to the right side of history, not taking your feelings into the matter at all, not that you expected them to. but you’re sure they already knew you wouldn’t be able to complete this mission—perhaps they hoped for your death at his hand.
at one point, you were friends. now, you were about to become the unwilling misses geto, though even that was more complicated than it seems. you were the third musketeer back in the day. even shoko preferred to stay out of the boys’ shenanigans, sticking to herself or utahime, not bothered in the slightest to let you chase after satoru and suguru. you were closer to the latter, finding it easy to gang up on the former together. he entertained your  wit and you let him try out new moves on you. you loved each other. that’s why it hurt so bad—still hurts to this day—that he left and turned into this. and now you’re stuck in the thick of it. 
you make him beyond angry. putting aside your utter disrespect and disobedience, you remind him of nothing but conflicting times, things he’d rather not think about now that those days were supposed to be far behind him. you hadn’t changed a bit from the day he left, and he hates that even more. you’re lively and talented, your powers long abused by the very higher ups that contributed to his madness and the ones that leveraged you into this ceremony. when he was told of your engagement, he could have refused and had them find him a new wife. he could have killed them all and refused this altogether—he’s not quite sure why he said yes. he pulls on his hakama trousers, smoothing at the pleats as he racks his brain. he slings his haori around his shoulders, and he realizes a small part of him may have always wanted to marry you; he remembers fantasies of you in high school, recalling how badly he yearned for your affection. and he hates that more than anything. 
he knows you feel similarly about him, hence all your acting up. you had been short and cold and almost satoru level snotty with him through the engagement parties and wedding planning and obligatory dinners. you have the nerve to sneer as you speak and look at him with nothing but disgust. he’s the one who should be disgusted with you. you chose to stay with gojo over him, chose that world of lies and injustice when you could have been enlightened like him from the beginning. it’s only fitting you’re his bride, really. it’s what he deserves, as retribution for your betrayal. and he would make sure to claim what was his on his wedding night. the servants come to get him as he shrugs into his montsuki with a new smug smile replacing what was a dreading frown.
you wore a red iro-uchikake. and you look like a dream he had when he was a teenager. it’s ironic really. he knows not wearing the more traditional and all white shiromuku was another one of your jabs, but the color red was more significant to him than white. it means life, it wards off all evils. perhaps you knew that too, and that’s why you chose the color, though geto remembers you wearing the deep blood color often enough through adolescence that seeing you in it again makes some of the tightness in his chest let off just a little bit, even as you avoid his eyes. 
he looked magnificent. his hair had grown longer, and you had always liked to play with it before, but now it cascades over his shoulder in waves despite the top-bun halving the thickness. you could hear your heart pound. if you were to tell the second year version of yourself that you would be sharing a wedding temple with suguru geto, you may have cried from relief and happiness. but as you get closer to him with no guests to witness this other than the priest and a handful of temple ladies, you feel the coursing energy of excitement and nerves. you aren’t sure what to expect from him now that no one will be watching. you don’t even truly know how he feels for you. he has been making attempts to earn your favor, but that was because he had a crowd. 
he takes your hand and smiles down at you like he did when you were much younger and much less conflicted over your feelings. it makes your heart flutter like it used to, and your eyes widen a bit at his gentility. the priest offers his blessings to the gods as you two stand before him, hand-in-hand. your mind races. how much of this is real? and even if he’s being genuine, does it really matter? after everything he put you through, all the things he had done, the things he wants to do, can you look past it all just to love him anyway? 
the temple servants set up the sakazuiki. they space the three ceremonial cups evenly apart, and fill them with the richest sake. san-san-kudo. you bite your lip, hating yourself for your doubt. suguru gently pulls you out of your head and towards the table, to the binding ceremony of old tradition. he picks up the first cup, holding it to his face. 
“you look beautiful, okusan.” he smirks over the cup, looking oddly satisfied with himself, like he knows something you don’t. he then sips the first cup three times, holding your eyes. you feel your body burn, looking down at the kimono you chose and back to him. his fingers lightly brush against yours as you take the cup. you feel butterflies. 
“thank you, geto-san.” you tilt your head down to indicate your grace, thoughts fuzzied by his intense stare and old feelings bubbling up your gut. you sip three times, and he picks up the next sakazuiki. he chuckles, and you swear you see a little bit of light in his deep eyes. 
“are you waiting for titles until the conclusion of the ceremony, anata?” he piles on the mulit-meaning endearment, passing you the second cup. you nearly choke on your sake. 
“no. you look very nice, uchi no hito.” you take your final sip, and it’s geto’s turn to stammer. he expected a tsureai or muko, but the one you chose had so much meaning. your home, your person. that’s what you called him. he knew the shock and wonder had to show on his face based off of your smug grin whenever you set the cup down. you think you can toy with him, pull stunts with him. you’re much too bold—and he wants to hate it, he wants to smother that personality right out of you, but for now–he’ll let himself love it. 
“this binds us through our love, wisdom, and happiness.” he says the words to bring you together officially, tying your souls together for better or worse. he sips from the final cup three times, the symbolism not lost on you, and passes it to you to do the same. 
“this binds us through our hatred, passion, and ignorance.” you look him in the eyes as you take your drinks, and his dark pink lips stretch into a wide smile. 
“and now you are mine. how lucky we are to be brought back to each other in this way.” he chums, taking the wedding rings from his pocket as the priest continues offering his prayers to the skies. you hold out your hand expectantly, and he arches a brow. 
“nine is not a lucky number, perhaps we’re cursed instead.” you shrug, that same smugness tugging at your lips. oh, you’re going to drive him crazy. you give him hope and you pull it away, you jab at him and you’re so gorgeous that he can’t even be upset with you for it. he slides the diamond encrusted with black gems down your third finger, giving you a smug smile of his own. he can play dirty too. he extends the box to you and you pluck his gold band from it, sliding it slowly down his finger. the excitement builds in your gut as you become more and more okay with whatever this is. you always thought he had a point. the jujutsu society was so horribly fucked up–maybe he was right all along and you were the coward after all. i mean, where did all your loyalty get you? sold off to a dangerous man with hopes to shut you up for good? passed around mission to mission until your body barely functioned anymore? maybe you could turn a blind eye to all his indiscretions, especially when he’s looking at you with such affection in once cold eyes. you still hold his hand in both of yours, and he enjoys the warmth, but you’ve pushed and poked him just enough, these teasing touches part of them. 
instead of a kiss to seal this union once more, he leans down to your ear. “go get changed. i like simple lingerie.” he all but purrs in your ear, sending shivers down your spine at the order. you were losing sight of yourself at a rapid pace. you had hoped to hold out longer than this. his lips tickle the shell of your ear and a soft gasp leaves you. you tell yourself to be strong.
“and if i don’t? you’d be lucky to sleep with me at all, husband.” you sneer, and again he doesn’t know what to make of you, but he’s dedicated to figuring it out. he leans up and tilts his head, analyzing the lust in your eyes and the shakiness in your hands. he laughs at you when he realizes. 
“go get changed, little pet. we’ll discuss your guilt and attitude later.” he shakes his head at you, his gaze making you feel as if you were already undressed before him. he turns, tossing that confident smirk over his shoulder again for good measure. “red is your color.” 
and then the temple girls are at your side, ready to escort their new geto-sama to her new room in the geto estate.. you allow them, trailing silently as you wonder just what he was able to figure out by looking at you, and what lingerie you would put on for him. 
you choose a red babydoll dress. the sheer plunging neckline leaves little to the imagination and the tight fit of the lace leaves even less. it fans out from your body from there, the fluffy hem stopping just below your ass. seeing yourself in the mirror, perched perfectly at the end of the bed, you smile. you imagine that qualifies as simple, though you’re sure it will still make him crazy for you. you’re embarrassed to want that, to dress yourself up and present yourself to him just as he asked. your friends would be ashamed, namely one. but as the door creaks open and you feel an icy stare raking over your body, you can’t quell your excitement. 
he hums approvingly as the door clicks shut behind him. he’s so grateful he didn’t deny this union out of his own narrow minded rage. he never thought he would see you again after you denied him the first time, but here you are, on the bed you two would soon share in his home, now branded with his last name— all wrapped up like a christmas present. 
“sugurin–” the old nickname flies off your tongue in your haste, and a fondness glosses over the devious intent in his eyes. you clear your throat and tug the sides of your dress down pathetically. “i... actually don’t know what to say.” you blink in realization, painfully aware of how alone you two are. was he still the same man you knew? 
“don’t worry, kibōchi.” he returns his own nickname, the way you squirm in your place at the sound of it wasn’t lost on him, though the name puts you at was in the same way it stirs you up. his desire returns at your doe-eyed stare, you trust him to some extent, even through your wariness. “i’ll start. you were assigned to marry me, no?” 
you nod your head, now knowing he wouldn’t hurt you, not with the fondness in which he says your name. your core tingles as he approaches you, a scarily sweet smile on his face.
“good. thank you for your honesty, anata girl.” he nods, sliding his crested black kimono off, the only proper covering of your wedding remaining on his body, for your convenience if anything. “and you’ve been such a brat because…? which is it: you’re mad at them, mad at me, or mad at yourself?” 
you furrow your brows at his words. it seemed he learned everything in just an extended look at you. “am not a brat.” you fold your arms in indignation, incidentally proving him right. he just shakes his head, chuckling again. 
“look at you. you didn’t answer my question and you’re pouting like a toddler.” he lets his gaze drift down to your body just begging for his touch. he can’t help but wonder what you’ll like and what your favorite position will be and how fertile you are and what kind of drive you’ll have, all things he never learned about you when you were just friends. you feel his scrutiny and fight through your mixed feelings to respond. 
“can’t it be a mixture of all three?” you sigh out shakily, deciding to stick to your guns even if you want him, too. 
he clicks his tongue in consideration. “i suppose. but the sorcerers of your past no longer have any influence over your life. and you should be more forgiving to yourself, even if you are being a snot.” 
you scrunch your nose up in distaste, hating how his words soothe your heart. “you conveniently left yourself out of that equation.” you fold your arms and it only pushes your chest out more. you’re impossible, and it’s hard for him not to smirk at you. you’re powerless, he knows and you know it—yet you fight anyway. it’s precious. 
“i don’t regret leaving. i did the right thing.” he says, head held high. his devotion is moving, even when he looks at you with such a mixed bag of emotions. “i missed you however. i accepted this union to see you again.” 
you can tell from his eyes that his emotion is genuine, but it still shoots pangs through your heart as you recall days spent in bed crying over his absence. you turn your head away so the influence of his obsidian stare couldn’t cut so deep. “you left me.” 
“you didn’t join me when i asked you to.” he retorts, clenching his jaw at your argumentative nature. “i came back, just for you.”
“you came back to use me.” you spit, echoing the words of your other classmates. the look in your eyes is angry, this was something you genuinely believed. that infuriates him. “you were going to leverage me, until you provoked him.” 
his jaw ticks again. “and who told you this, satoru? i would have thought you knew me best.” he sighs his disappointment, grabbing your hands. he pulls you off the bed, your knees buckling you into a stand—then he roughly grabs your cheeks to make you look at him. “or did you forget just how close we were? how deeply i loved you then, all the time we spent together? you’re the one who betrayed me. you were mine! mine, you were supposed to be mine and you stayed with him!” his voice rises just a bit with his frustration, but he drops his grip on you and steps back, “i would have done anything to take you with me. and everything…could have been the same, i would have kept you safe and away from this life. We could have had so much more time together—and you’re being so goddamn bratty now that i have you back…what am i to do with you?” 
you blink rapidly at his speech washes over you. did he really mean it, that he just wanted you to have you? you were never intended to be used as a bargaining chip, and you let everyone else warp the vision of the man you once held so dear? you shake your head violently, rejecting the idea. he rakes his hands over his face, fed up with the back and forth. “i’ve compartmentalized you out over the years. but i have you back, and i refuse to waste any more time.” 
“i’m sorry sugurin—i thought you hated me!” you defend, reaching for him. he grabs your wrists again and plants your hands on his chest, moving his touch to your face. 
“then make it up to me.” he orders with a fervent nod, his hold on your face firm but comforting. you surprise him by leaning up and closing the remaining distance to kiss him, balling up his shirt in your fists. you were absolutely insufferable, annoying, bratty, and irritating—but he could do this forever. feeling you move with such passion, vigorously pulling at him and finally giving in to all those pent up feelings was enough to prompt him to do the same.  he memorizes your taste for a while before he pulls away and directs you to your knees with his signature rough handling, though he’s still careful not to hurt you. “i want you to really make it up to me.” 
you nod eagerly and shove your hair over your shoulders while he frees his waiting ache. he can hardly stand the sight of you on your knees under him, massive cock creating a shadow over your obedient and eager face. as gorgeous as you are like this, it was too late to make up for your transgressions. you salivate at the sight of his impressive length standing proud over you, curved and so long he leans to one side with a thickness you know will make even your throat burn. your mouth parts for him immediately, slick sliding down the insides of your thighs at the idea of relieving his drooling slit. “you’re gonna have to open wider than that, okusan.” 
and he helps you do so, planting his broad callused hands firmly on each side of your face, bumping his cockhead against your puffy bottom lip and shoving himself into your silky walls. you moan out in surprise and relax your throat, making your new husband grin at the performance. He’s perhaps unintentionally violent as he sheaths to the hilt, your nose bumping against black coarse hair above his shaft. “there, there.” 
he pats your cheek patronizingly, flicking away a tear that formed. “don’t cry, kibōchi. you were made for this.” he coos affectionately, body growing hot to the touch at his vision. he knew this was a great start to teaching you your place in life, and that being a brat was not one of them. running away was not one of them, you were permanently his and he would never let you go again. he pulls your head back off with that grip to use you, plunging your throat back down on him and biting down on his lip to keep his own sounds from interrupting your gorgeous gags.
“don’t you like this so much better than acting snotty, sweet wife?” he teases only slightly, taking your teary eyes flicking up to look at him as a yes. you can feel him deep, that burning sensation that you knew would come starting to sting your vocal cords. “you take me so well, i’ve always told you sorcery wasn’t for you. this is all you need to do forever.” 
you moan at the idea, him keeping you home to take after the estate and maybe even caring for the kids you may have in the future. he chortles, pleasantly surprised by you yet again. “you think you’re clever, darling. acting all sweet now so i’ll forget all about your behavior, hm?” 
he pulls you off with a lewd pop, pushing at the wimpy straps of your dress with a satisfied hum as the fabric falls away from your chest. “too bad. get on the bed.” 
your heart raced, but you nod. your throat was too hoarse to speak anyway. you weren’t planning anything, you felt like liquid, you had given into your vows and let suguru take you mind, body, and spirit—and he hadn’t even touched you yet. you wobble up to your feet and he slaps your ass when you turn it to him, which makes you gasp and stumble forward. he hums, predatory narrow eyes watching you climb up and lay in the center of the large mattress. he wastes no time in positioning over you. he spits, thumbing his lube over your sensitivity. he pins your fluffy dress up over your stomach, lulling you into sweet moans, your high building in your stomach rapidly. he doesn’t know where to look, you’re all too perfect. the faces you make, your beautiful, slobber-soaked mouth pouting out all your pleasures, your gorgeous tits sitting so prettily in wait for him. then there was your weeping cunt, so pathetically soaked just from sucking him off. 
“su–gu-rin~” you whimper out a little, your legs trying to close around his large body mass as the feeling becomes more intense. he hums, smacking your cunt. 
“brats don’t get to cum.” he shrugs, licking and biting at the insides of your thighs to tease you further. your plush skin is so sensitive, and he loves watching the way you squirm to get away from his canines scraping your flesh. you gasp in anger, orgasm ruined the longer he refuses to touch where you need him most. 
“brat?—you’re really gonna be mean to me, uchi no hito?” you pout, and he can feel his heart pang at the insistence and the sweet way you call him yours. you’re softening his heart already. he still had the want to punish you, but the need to claim you was surely fighting back.
“then apologize for your behavior or you won’t cum at all.” he sits up a bit, tossing some hair over his shoulder. you bat your lashes at him, knowing he was hurt by your choice, just like you were hurt by his. but now there was a chance to make it right, to be together forever like you were meant to–and if you had to apologize for your doubts in him, you would sing them loudly. 
“oh—sugurin, i’m sorry! i really am,” his fingers squeeze and toy with your clit, making your body jump as you try to stutter through your words. “just mi-missed you, that’s all, was mean because i missed y-you!” you writhe and wiggle closer and away from his touch simultaneously, and he hums happily at your speech. 
“that’s better.” he hums approvingly, pushing your legs up to your chest. he wants you to feel this as much and as deeply as possible. “such a good girl, did i tell you how beautiful you look okusan?” 
you nod, feeling the well of nerves heating up in your core, his hands resting on your knees as he looks over the disheveled lingerie. “told me at the wedding…” you sniffle, wiggling your hips for his attention again. 
“i see.” he frowns, as if disappointed by your answer. his hands feel your thighs and trail back to your knees, getting his hands closer and closer to where you needed him most with each pass. you whine desperately, and he hums out in fake curiosity, “what is it, darling?” 
“need you to touch me—please.” you squirm, giving him those irresistible doe-eyes. he planned to make you beg much harder than that, but you had him worked all the way up, your body, behavior, and the history between you was setting him on fire. 
“oh i’ll make you cum, kibōchi.” he moves his grip to the backs of your thighs as he moves his hips forward. you try to prepare yourself but it’s no use, he plunges in without any hesitation or resistance on your part. it aches, you clench down at the spread and his thumb comes back to your clit to rub the pain away. “but you can only do it on my dick. got it?” 
you nod slowly and his hips set a pace. he’s so deep you can barely believe he’s allowed to fuck you like this, the pain melting away to a dull pleasure, different from earlier. his gaze is still white hot and searing, devouring every inch of your body. “you really are so beautiful, sweet okusan. my kibōchi turned perfect cocksleeve, yeah?” he growls into the space between you, his fingers digging into the fat of your skin so hard you know he’ll leave his mark.
that draws a moan out of you, loving the idea of being nothing more than a wife, his partner, something you never thought you’d be once you parted ways. the feeling of him rocking into your body is addicting, and now you know you are capable of looking past anything he’s done or will do just to love him anyway. you would throw all your morals away just for this, and he knows that too. “my pretty little okusan, trying so hard to pretend she didn’t want me. now look, the prettiest you’ve ever been bouncing on me.” 
he leans over your body, deepening his angle and allowing him to pick up his speed. he watches the way your tits bounce at this pace, your eyes rolling back a little as you’re rendered unable to speak again, only lewd smacks of his balls against your ass and his feral grunts to be heard. his hand finds your throat, and his mouth drops open in response to your sweet moans and impossible beauty. you are perfect. he knew you would be, but your pussy was his personal kryptonite. “you feel so good, anata girl. you look even better, stuffed to the brim.” 
he smiles at the double meaning. you are his darling girl, but you are also his exasperating brat. god, he always knew what to say. your jaw falls, gripping his forearms to warn him that you were close. “please—need to cum!”
 he hums, nodding his approval, “then cum, okusan.” he commands, deep voice booming. his spine tingles at the idea of you taking your first round of his seed. his hair falls so angelically around his angular features when you open your eyes, it’s the final push over the edge. you choke out a moan, and then your nails are scraping at his biceps, his shoulders and chest, whatever you can get your hands on, and your release is rushing over his dick seconds later. 
“are you on birth control?” he groans, feeling his cock twitch in between your wet walls. you shake your head, chest heaving deliciously. “good, let’s see how fertile you are.” 
your eyes cross at his statement and his balls feel so heavy, squeezing tight and spurting out their contents against your womb. your head digs into the pillow and his falls back at the feeling of being so full and warm. he keeps his hips rocking, making you gasp with every stroke as he shoves his deposit deeper. You’re both panting when you look at each other, years of unspoken yearning and love being communicated between you. there’s a lot to catch up on, and a lot to relearn about one another, but one thing is certain: this marriage was fated, and not arranged. 
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mintmatcha · 4 days
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The Inevitable Things We Try to Avoid: chapter four
aizawa x reader fic
cw: cisfem reader, no quirks, office au, miscommunications, slow burn. full tags available on AO3 (linked in masterlist)
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Five messages. 
Four texts, one video. 
The message preview stares back at you, the LED screen aglimmer in the morning sun, screen bouncing with the tremor of your hand. You're breathing, you're sure of that, but you also think you may have died; no matter how hard you breathe, your chest feels like a popped balloon, deflated and too ripped to hold air. The rush of something whizzing past your ear must be blood, it's too resonant and all encompassing to be anything else--
Five fucking messages. 
You can’t bring yourself to open any of them.
You stand there for longer than you’d like to admit, trying to process exactly what you’re looking at. Maybe it’s a glitch, or a typo, but when you turn your phone off and back on again, the unread messages pop up the same. Five unread messages from Aizawa Shouta. It makes sense logically; Aizawa is right above AVOID AT ALL COST in your contacts, you must have just clicked the incorrect thing in your drunken stupor--
But what doesn’t make sense is the fact that he replied-- and he replied positively. Aizawa Shouta does not respond positively to anything. Not the first cup of coffee in the morning, not his interns, probably not even kittens and rainbows, and yet he messaged you back. I’ve always wanted you. You refuse to reread anything from last night, but that sticks in your head.  
I’ve always wanted you. 
You think about it the entire train ride, nibbling on the edges of your nails to kill the anxious buzz that builds in your jaw. Maybe you should quit. You could change your name and move to some mid-sized city; that’d be easier than the inevitable mess you're headed towards.  Suddenly, you miss yesterday, the yelling, the aggression-- 
It goes back to Touya. You know the question on everyone’s mind when they see you together, when they hear about the fights and the tension and the isolation: why? Why him, why stay, why wait, why, why, why? The answer is as simple as it is stupid: you stay because it's what you know. The turbulence feels like home. 
It's like sea legs. When sailors are on boats for a long time, they stop feeling the rock and roll of each wave. It becomes easy to walk straight, to live life like normal, until they return to shore. There, on level streets, long after the tide has pulled away, is where the waves hit.
You've learned to live in rocky waters- you’ve practically perfected it. Touya is your ship and you know his yaws and keels better than you know stability. 
 This whole situation is the equivalent of stepping ashore and being immediately hit by a semi truck.
The train pulls into your station and you debate staying on for a moment too long. I’ve always wanted you. That sentence makes your stomach turn. What does that mean? Is it solely physical? Is it more?
No, it can’t be. This man hates your guts; there’s no feelings between you other than mild, stupid lust.
Which makes you debate your own feelings. He's certainly… well, he’s not ugly. You’d even say, maybe, perhaps, in the right angles, he’s attractive, especially with this thick thighs and thicker cock-
The train doors almost close before you can scuttle out. Focus, girl, focus. Fighting through your surprisingly aching body and returning headache, you briskly walk the rest of the way to work, trying to think about anything other than the shitshow you’re about to walk into.
Prome is a half mile walk from the station, with only one tiny dash across a busy road. It’s not ideal, but it’s the only option you have right now. The interns have started a carpool, but you’re too old to be riding with them. Besides, Bakugo Katsuki’s car is nice. It’s embarrassing the have worse things than a college student-
  A familiar dented, red car squeaks to a halt inches from your ass, so close that you can feel the wind displaced. The squeal of tires steals your breath away and your body clenches in fear, so hard that your muscles scream. You jump and start blabbering in surprise, shouting out unearned apologies as you skitter back. It takes a second to gather yourself, but, when you do, you see a boy jut his head out of the window, all toothy smiles and bleach blonde hair.
“Hey!” he shouts. “If it isn’t my hero!”
“Denki?”
Kaminari Denki waves to you, sunshine personified behind the wheel of a truck without a bumper.
“Hold on, lemme park!”
The red monstrosity barely fits in a space. In its prime, it was probably a pretty car, but being owned by Denki clearly took a toll. The inside is littered with empty energy drink cans, clinking and sloshing as he throws the car into park and launches himself out. There's a reason he's not a part of the group's carpool.
“I could fucking kiss you right now!” He envelopes you in open arms, manhandling you side to side over and over in an overly friendly display. 
“Oh, please don't-- Denki!” 
He smashes his face into your cheek with a chaste, yet somehow wet smooch. When you try to squirm away, he doubles down; his lips actually make contact with yours, just for a moment, awful and impossibly damp. 
“Ew, gross! Get off!” You pry him off and wipe the slime off of your lips with the back of your hand. “Don’t do that!”
“Sorry, my bad, I’m just--” he laughs,  “Izuku told me you saved my ass!”
   You don’t mention the fact you’re the reason he was in trouble in the first place because you're too busy processing this information.
“Aizawa rehired you?”
“He called me yesterday and apologized, which was, holy shit, it was insane,” Denki says, with a wave of his hands, like it isn’t a shocking turn of events. “What did you do?”
“Nothing, I just, uh--” You grimace at the thought. “I talked to Toshinori. And cried a little.”
In retrospect, it does seem like overkill, but it worked.
“Do that more often!” He goes in for another hug and you reluctantly let him. He smells like axe body spray and cheap deodorant. God, he’s so young-- even the accidental kiss feels dirty. You have to remind yourself that he’s early twenties, really only a couple years younger than you-- wait, no. You’re thirty.  “I owe you my life! And my diploma!”
You still can't believe it. Aizawa, hard ass Aizawa, changed his mind? That couldn't be because of you. He's made people cry before, why would you be different-?
Oh. I've always wanted you.
That thought hits you like a punch to the gut.
Maybe it isn't just physical.
You have to shake your head to clear away that thought. You brush your clothes off and adjust yourself. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”  
“I’ll buy you a coffee.” He coos as you walk in. The security guard gives you both a curious look, eyebrows wiggling conspiratorially. You just ignore that and focus on getting to your desk. It's almost nine; you're both late.  “And anything you want-- alcohol, weed-”
“-We drug test here?”
“We do?” Denki gapes. “Fuck, good to know.”
Maybe saving him wasn’t a good career move.  You make it to your desk and drop your stuff on the group. Denki has been following you like a puppy, nipping at your heels the whole way.
“Just… please don’t get fired again." You jerk a head towards his department. "Go do your work."
“Absolutely!” He prances down the hall, wrinkled tie flapping in his wake.  “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
You can’t believe he’s here. Truly. All of that worry and stress yesterday feels worth it as you settle into your desk. You clack a couple of keys to wake up your screen-- but there’s no response. After a moment, you try again, then again. A wiggle of the mouse does the trick, but the keyboard still doesn’t wake up when you try to type in your password. 
Crap. You split that coffee yesterday. The circuit or whatever must be fried. Great. Today is going to be pretty unproductive if you don’t solve this issue.
Engineering probably has a couple of extras, but you aren’t sure you’re ready to walk straight into the lion’s den, especially now that you aren’t sure how you feel about it all. The fact he rehired Denki does make you feel a bit better; maybe Hizashi and Nemuri were right and he’s actually a good guy. And, you can’t deny that you’re a tiny bit attracted to him now that you’ve seen… everything. 
Ugh, you need to make up your fucking mind and decide how you feel about all of this--
At that moment, Aizawa Shouta stomps down the hall, expression as flat and hard as ever. He looks the same as he always does, stupid yellow sweatshirt, messy black hair, under eye circles deep enough to worry about, but your chest hiccups at the sight. You don’t have a plan for this, no prepared speech or anything. For a moment, you wonder if he’s coming to kiss you or ravage you, like in one of those romance novels that are popular online-
And then he passes you and heads straight for the coffee machine. Relief washes over you, then confusion.  Not even a hint of attention thrown your way. That’s fairly strange-- you usually get at least a nod or a lukewarm greeting. You push off of your chair and join  him the the station.
“Hey, um-” Your idle hands dig into the sugar packets, jostling them side to side. The pitch of the coffee hitting the inside of his mug changes as he pours, pitch creeping higher and higher.  His jawline is dusted with a five o’clock shadow, flickers of salt and pepper across his skin and down to the curve of his adam’s apple. You said something about shaving last night, you think. You wonder if he listened or if this is how it’s always been-
“Do you need something?”  He interrupts your thoughts, not even looking away from the station.
“I-” What do you need? Confirmation? Reassurance? An explanation? “Uh-”
You suck in a breath and steel yourself, legs shoulder width again from that extra boost of stability. Your voice comes out as a whisper, much shakier than it should be.  I've always wanted you. You don't feel the same, but maybe, just maybe, you could learn to.
“Yesterday-- or, uh, last night- I just want to--”
“Let’s save each other the embarrassment and forget everything that happened yesterday.” The coffee pot clinks back into place, only the legs of droplets left to cling to the glass. “We’re out, by the way.”
And with that, he’s gone.
And a second truck has sideswiped you.
167 notes · View notes
sapphire-writes · 7 months
Text
Bandaids & Butterflies (modern hospital AU)
Do No Harm part 2 || masterlist || next part
pairing: doctor!Aemond Targaryen x doctor!Reader
summary: Your week continues at Citedal General. You try to figure out what ails Cece Lannister while tensions rise between you and Aemond.
word count: 4.1k
disclaimer: yall, I am not a doctor, I am simply a Grey's Anatomy stan. If something is off or incorrect please just suspend your disbelief! I am trying my best to make it as accurate as possible but its just for fun!!
warnings below the cut!
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warnings: medical terminology, medications, CT scan, blood, infectious diseases referencing spicy times but nothing explicit in this chapter
dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics
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“What happened to you?” little Cece Lannister says when you walk into her room the following day, “You look terrible.”
There’s something about kids; like they’ve been force-fed truth serum and have to say the first thought that comes to their mind. You cock your head to the side, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. 
“Cerelle,” her mother hisses, cheeks red at her daughter’s brutal honesty. 
“What?” Cece says, eyebrows creasing together, “She does.”
“It’s okay, really,” you tell Mrs. Lannister, as she scolds her daughter again, “Maybe I should get a bed next to you.”
Cece shakes her head, golden curls vibrating as she does. Her hospital gown hangs too big, drooping off her thin shoulders. You wonder if she’s been eating much more than the ice cream they serve after dinner. 
“No roommates, please. I like my alone time; I get to choose whatever station I want,” she says smiling, holding the remote control to the television on the wall. 
“How’re you feeling this morning Cece?” you ask, reaching for the chart that hangs at the foot of her bed. 
The nurses of Citadel General are on top of everything; without them, the hospital would not be able to function. You flip through her chart, eyes scanning her nighttime vitals. 
“Okay,” Cece says, tugging the ear of her stuffed lion.
“I see they increased her muscle relaxant,” you note, “Did you have a hard time sleeping?”
“She always does but I think the spasms are getting worse, especially at night,” Mrs. Lannister says, concerned in her voice. 
“Are you gonna have a scar?” Cece chimes in, pointing to her temple, mirroring where your stitches are.
“Cece-”
“Probably not,” you tell her, giving Mrs. Lannister a small smile, “The doctors here are pretty good you know.”
Cece leans over in her bed, pulling out a small toy doctor kit. 
“I’m a good doctor too,” she says, rummaging through the bag, “Tyrion has had extensive surgical procedures.”
She points at her stuffed lion, and you suddenly notice the different array of bandages and band-aids covering the golden fur. 
“Oh has he?” you ask, as Cece pats the bed beside her. You move to sit on the edge of the bed, holding her chart across your lap.
“Yes,” Cece says, holding out an assortment of bandaids for you to choose from, “I’ll let you choose. I like pink the best.”
You smile, pointing at the pink bandaid with yellow paw prints decorating it. Cece smiles, approving your choice. She peels the backing before pressing the bandage over your stitches, gently pressing on the edges to make sure it sticks.
“There, much better,” she tells you.
“Thank you, Dr. Lannister,” you tell her, which causes her to smile.
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“There she is!” Jace calls as you arrive at the nurses' station. His face scrunches as he looks at your forehead, “Nice bandaid.”
“Thanks,” you say, touching the pink bandage, “Courtesy of Cece Lannister. You run that CT scan for her yesterday?”
“You mean after the ruckus you caused?” Jace asks, leaning against the nurses' station, “No, Baratheon put me in the pit. Which is probably where I will stay for the rest of my life.”
“Did anyone get a CT?” you ask, frowning at his theatrics. 
“Um after you left Cory was supposed to cover her labs and stuff,” Jace tells you, “I’d ask her she’ll know-”
“Know what,” Sara says, placing a handful of clipboards between you, “I’ve been on scut duty all morning. Does anyone know why Baratheon is in such a foul mood?”
“Fouler than usual?” Nettles says, stepping up beside you. 
“I’m not sure if I’m able to determine that,” Sara says, groaning, “But she definitely seems angry.”
“Excuse me! Excuse me!” Cory says, weaving through residents, holding two coffee cups above her head, “Seven hells, doesn’t anyone know how to walk in this place?”
“Apparently not,” Nettles comments, as Cory holds a coffee out to you. 
“For you. Figured you’d need the extra caffeine,” she says as you take the cup. Her smile turns down into a frown, “What is on your head?”
You roll your eyes. This is clearly going to be a whole-day occurrence. 
“Interns!” Dr. Baratheon’s voice calls out, and you all turn, straightening yourselves. 
Dr. Baratheon looks down at her clipboard, before bringing her steely blue eyes to look at the five of you. She sighs, flipping through her pages. 
“Martell, now that Dr. Y/L/N is back I want you to assist me on Lyonel Beesbury’s Whipple this afternoon; You can write that on the board,” she says, nodding to herself. 
Cory lets out a soft ‘yes’ before quickly rushing across the hallway. Nettles’ jaw tightens and you can tell she’s disappointed to have not been asked. 
“Waters I want you shadowing Dr. Targaryen today in pediatrics, Dr. Y/L/N you may join her,” Baratheon continues.
Targaryen.
Your heart lurches.
“Dr. Baratheon, I’m supposed to get Cece Lannister that CT scan,” you tell her, as she raises a brow.
“That’s fine. After that bring it to Dr. Targaryen up on peds, she’ll be interested in seeing it,” Dr. Baratheon says, returning her gaze to her clipboard.
“She?” you ask the question leaving your mouth before you can stop it.
Dr. Baratheon sighs, placing her clipboard across her stomach. Her eyebrows lift toward her hairline, blue eyes fiery.
“Yes, she,” Dr. Baratheon quips, “Was there someone else you thought I was referring to?”
“No ma’am,” you say, shaking your head. 
“Good,” she says, eyes moving past you, “Snow, Velaryon, you’re in the pit.”
Sara and Jace audibly groan. Baratheon gives them a stern look which stops their complaining.
“No drama today,” she says sternly, “Understood?” 
You all murmur words of agreement, and Dr. Baratheon brings her eyes back to your face; they flicker up to your forehead. 
“Take that thing off,” she comments, shaking her head and walking down the hall.
“She’s right. You look silly,” Nettles tells you.
“I can’t take it off, it was a gift from a sick kid. You know how much bad luck that will bring me?” you tell her, walking down the hallway.
“Speaking of bad luck,” Nettles says, smiling, “When are you going to tell me about how you know Dr. Sexy?”
“Dr. Sexy?” you say through a laugh, “Not the greatest name.”
“Girl but he is sexy,” she says fanning herself, “Guy’s name should be McDreamy.”
“McDreamy, Dr. Sexy, it’s nothing,” you tell her, “We….we may have hooked up. Once! That’s it and it was before I knew he worked here.”
“You bad girl,” Nettles hisses, though she’s smiling; her eyes bright, “How was it? Does McDreamy live up to his name?”
“Literally the best sex of my life,” you tell her, “But we already decided it can’t happen again.”
“What?” she says, her smile dropping, “It’s not like he’s your boss, he’s a coworker! People fuck coworkers!”
“What happened to not shitting where you eat?” you tell her.
“Girl you already did, might as well see it through! Especially if he’s that good,” she says, leaning closer, “Just….how good, if I may be so bold.”
You wet your lips, trying to fight your smile.
“Five orgasms good,” you admit and Nettles squeals loudly, jaw dropping.
“That does it,” she says, “You’re getting Dr. Sexy back. Do it for me.”
“Don’t you need to get to peds?” you ask, “And see…Dr. Targaryen?”
“Yeah I noted your confusion around that,” she says with a sigh, “Dr. B was talking about Dr. Helaena Targaryen. You know, renowned pediatric surgeon? She does fabulous research on infectious diseases as well; she came and spoke once when I was in med school about…”
Your mind trails off as Nettles speaks, still focused on Aemond. You hadn’t seen him today and yet he was all you could think about. Since dropping you at home you hadn’t spoken, besides the text he sent you. The door couldn’t still be open. Could it?
“...especially in the southern climates like the Summer Isles, Sothoryos, and Naath..are you listening to me?” Nettles says, punching your shoulder slightly, “Right. Anyway, Sounds like you’re boning her brother.”
“Brother?” you ask, connecting the dots, “Shit. He did say he moved back here for family. But a family full of doctors?”
“You really don’t know anything, do you?” Nettles says, shaking her head, “Sorry. That sounded mean. But the Targaryens are like a huge deal in the medical world.”
“I mean, I’ve seen names on research,” you admit, “And maybe a Ted Talk or two but….I mean I didn’t even know his last name when we…I didn’t realize..”
“You’d come straight into the lion’s pit?” Nettles says with a chuckle, “It’s okay, girl. But I’m giving you some homework. Seriously, look them up. Learn a thing or two.”
“I can’t google Aemond,” you tell her, “It’s just…I don’t know that doesn’t feel right.”
“Understandable,” she says with a shrug, “I mean, Spark Notes version, they’re a huge name within the medical community. Big money, big name, big influence. So don’t go pissing any of them off.”
“Right,” you tell her, “Got it.”
“I’m heading to pediatrics,” Nettles says, pressing an elevator button, “See you soon?”
“Yeah,” you tell her, “Just have to get this CT and I’ll be there.”
“Cool. Later, klutz,” she teases as the doors open.
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Cerelle Lannister’s CT scan takes much longer than anticipated. The wait is long and the small girl trembles when being taken into the machine, legs flailing each and every way. Only when they’re strapped down is she somewhat still enough to enter the machine. 
“I feel like a mummy,” she says when the straps are secured, “Being put in a sarcophagus.” 
“That’s pretty spooky,” you tell her with a grin.
“I like to pretend when I’m scared,” she says softly.
You reach out and take her hand.
“No need to be scared of this. The machine is just really loud, that’s all. I’ll be just outside,” you assure her.
“Okay,” she says softly, squeezing your hand. 
She does great, staying as still as she can the entire time. You praise her through the microphone and wave as the nurses escort her back to her room, wheeling her in a small wheelchair. Her stuffed lion was safely on her lap. You’ve noticed she rarely lets go of the toy. 
You sit in the room outside, watching as the scan produces results. Forehead creased, you click through the images as someone knocks on the door. You turn, smiling at Jace leaning in the doorway.
“Hey there,” you greet, “Shouldn’t you be in the pit?”
“Had to sneak away for a second,” he says, “Those Cece’s scans?”
“Yeah,” you tell him, beckoning him forward, “See that inflammation there?”
“Yeah,” he agrees, leaning forward, hands on the back of your chair, “So what’s your thinking?”
“Something bacterial,” you tell him, “I mean, there’s no sign of tissue or nerve damage, her labs are stable despite her on-and-off fevers. But it's progressing significantly. She’s having trouble sleeping due to the spasms.”
“Have you ever heard of something that causes this?” Jace asks.
“No, at least not off the top of my head,” you admit, “I’m heading to peds. Maybe Dr. Targaryen will have a better idea. Nettles says she specializes in infectious diseases.”
“Oh…..yeah,” Jace says, straightening up and rubbing the back of his neck. You frown as he tenses, his friendly disposition vanishing.
“Just an idea,” you tell him, gathering your things.
You follow him out of the room. Jace seems uneasy, he rubs at his face, and the collar of his scrubs. 
“No it’s a good one,” he agrees, “I should get back to the pit---”
“Strong,” a voice calls, sending your heart racing. 
Aemond takes several strides toward the two of you, a smug smile on his face. Something in your gut tightens, the memory of your night together burning in the back of your mind. He wore a similar expression then, one full of confidence. Goosebumps erupt on your skin. You can hear his voice from that night, as he whispered in your ear while sheathed to the hilt inside of you. 
“Who’s my good girl, hmm?”
You blink, shaking your head, trying to physically expel the memory from your mind. Your cheeks heat up and you notice Jace has turned several shades darker as well, fists clenched at his side. 
“I thought you were assigned to the pit, Strong,” Aemond asks, cocking his head to the side, “I would hate to have to tell Baratheon you’re disobeying orders.”
Aemond’s sentence hits you like a slap in the face. He’s not as cool, calm, and collected right now as he was the last time you’d seen him. He’s bordering on being cruel. You glance at Jace. 
“It’s Velaryon,” Jace says, through his teeth.
“Come again?” Aemond asks, “Don’t mumble, Jacaerys, it’s unseemly.” 
“My name,” Jace says sternly, “Velaryon.”
Aemond’s mouth quirks into an amused grin. 
“My apologies,” he says smoothly, “You’ll have to forgive me, it’s easy to forget.”
“Sure,” Jace says, nose wrinkling.
“Give my best to your dad,” Aemond says, “Whichever one, you’re choice.”
Aemond turns to you, something flickering across his eyes. 
“Dr. Y/L/N,” he says with a curt nod, before walking away, hands tucked behind his back.
Jace exhales, striding over to the elevator. You follow close behind as his pager beeps.
“What the hell was that about?” you ask, stepping inside with him.
“Nothing.”
“Jace, that wasn’t nothing.”
“He was just messing with me,” Jace insists, not meeting your eyes.
“Why was Dr. Targaryen messing with you?”
“Because he’s a narcissistic pig!”
Your eyes widen and Jace sighs, shaking his head. 
“He’s….he’s my uncle okay,” Jace admits. Your eyes widen.
“Your uncle?”
“Yes, and my side of the family doesn’t really get along with his side,” Jace says, as the doors open to your floor.
“But why-”
“Look, it doesn’t matter,” Jace says, shaking his head, “I have to go. Sara just paged, some drunk deadbeat riling everyone up downstairs.”
You step outside the elevator but turn back to him.
“I want the full story, Velaryon. Not the Cliff Notes, the whole story,” you tell him. 
“Okay!” he reluctantly agrees, “Later.”
“Tonight, Dragon’s Den, tell Sara!” you call as the doors begin to close.
“So I can air my dirty laundry to everyone?!” 
“Exactly!” you call as the doors shut. 
Turning on your heel, you head down the hall to pediatrics. You can’t wait to share the details with Nettles as you push through the double doors and head to the nurses' station. 
“Excuse me,” you ask a nurse, “Have you seen Dr. Targareyn?”
“Which one?”
“Dr. Helaena Targaryen,” you clarify.
“She was just here, she’ll roll around in a moment.”
“I’m sorry…..roll?”
Just as the question leaves your lips, the sound of wheels against linoleum is heard from down the hall. A woman in light green scrubs and a white lab coat rolls on her heels down the hallway. Nettles jogs behind her as she turns, coming to a stop in front of you. 
Her silver hair is shaggy, but the resemblance to Aemond is uncanny. A large butterfly pin holds some out of her face and she smiles brightly as you greet her. 
“Been waiting for you,” she says, holding a hand out for you to place your scans in, “Aemond told me all about you.”
You nearly choke on your saliva and Nettles’ eyes go round.
“He--he did?” you squeak.
“Mhmm,” Helaena says, flicking through the scans, “Quite the first day you had.”
“Oh right,” you say, relief washing through you.
“Glad you’re okay,” Helaena says, glancing up at you, “Nice bandaid.”
“Thanks,” you tell her.
“Cece Lannister,” she muses, “What is going on with you.”
“I was hoping you’d have thoughts,” you ask.
“Has she traveled anywhere recently?” Dr. Taragreyn asks, frowning at the scans, “You’re thinking it’s some sort of infection, correct?”
“Yes,” you tell her, “And I’m not sure about her travel history.”
“Find out,” she tells you, “If you’re going to find out what this is, you need to find out what caused it and where.”
She hands you the scans, smiling once more.
“Nice to meet you,” she says with a smile, “Officially this time.”
Your cheeks heat up. She knows. She remembers. You vaguely remember Aemond speaking with his sister before leaving; you’d barely caught a glimpse of her. 
“Yeah,” you agree, smiling weakly. 
You hurry off after that, eager to get back to Cece Lannister’s room to inquire about her recent travels. Walking down the hall you enter one of the many elevators, waiting patiently as it stops on nearly every floor, doctors coming in and out. 
Then it's just you and someone else, you look out of the corner of your eye and recognize him. 
Dr. Cole smiles at you.
“How’re you feeling?” he asks.
“Better, thanks to my cool bandaid, not the stitches and rest,” you tell him, cracking a smile.
“So cool,” he says with a laugh, “I had a kid give me a bandaid covered in oranges the other day.”
“Tropical,” you comment as the doors open.
“Good to see under better circumstances,” Dr. Cole says, beginning to exit, “Ah Dr. Targaryen.”
Your blood runs cold as Aemond enters the elevator.
“Will I be seeing you this afternoon?” Dr. Cole asks, “I’ve got an aneurysm clipping if you’re interested.”
“Always, if you’ll have me,” Aemond says, and Dr. Cole nods as the doors close. 
You’re alone. With him. Alone with him. Your heart pounds frantically in your chest, anxiety making your senses heighten. The elevator suddenly feels very small, and closed in; the air not being pushed through the vents quick enough. Aemond stares straight ahead, not looking at you and not attempting to engage in polite conversation. Your stomach sours and you swallow. 
“Hey,” you say tentatively. 
You glance at Aemond out of the corner of your eye and watch him look down at his feet. You scoff softly, annoyed by his ignoring of you. The elevator hums and your anger pools quickly in your belly; flames licking upwards to your face. 
“So you’re ignoring me now?” you ask, getting no reply, “Really mature.”
Aemond continues looking at his shoes, hands folded behind his back. 
“We’re colleagues, the least you could do is make polite conversation,” you huff, pressing the elevator button once more.
You know it won’t make it arrive quicker, but you need something to do with your hands. 
“And that whole thing with Jace?” you say, pressing the button again and again, “I don’t know what your problem is, but clearly that was an asshole move--”
Your hand is yanked away from the button, long fingers wrapping around your wrist and suddenly his lips are on yours. The hand around your wrist falls and both his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him. 
Your anger dissipates almost immediately, as you link your arms around his neck fisting the hair at the nape of his neck. The moan this causes him to release, sends your knees buckling, and he brings one hand to your ass, squeezing harshly. 
Spearmint and tea. He tastes so good, mouth so warm and soft moving against your own you can’t help but whimper as he cradles your jaw with his free hand. Desire pools in your belly, and a desperate gasp leaves your lips.
Aemond drags his lips to kiss your jaw, and your neck as his opposite hand cradles the side of your face, his thumb stroking your cheekbone. You’re so needy, so responsive to his touch, you want him so desperately, and then---
The elevator dings and you push away from each other, breathing heavily as the doors open and more residents and attendings enter. You quickly get your bearings springing out of the elevator and onto your floor. 
“Y/N!” Aemond calls, walking after you. 
Your pager goes off just as he reaches you, and you squint down at it. 
“Code White Cerelle Lannister,” you tell him, going numb with shock, “I just saw her-”
“Go,” Aemond says, before turning to a nurse, “That’s a medical emergency, page Dr. Helaena Targaryen!”
You hurry down the hallway, breaking out into a run as you enter Cerelle’s room. Dr. Baratheon is there already, Mrs. Lannister sobbing holding onto Cece’s stuffed lion. Cece’s sheets are soaked with sweat as she thrashes. 
Not sweat.
Blood.
It’s as if Cece is sweating blood. 
“Hematidrosis,” Dr. Baratheon says, readying a syringe, “Push one of epi.”
“Cece it’s gonna be okay,” you tell her, as Dr. Baratheon hands you the syringe. 
Cerelle’s eyes are wide, tears streaming down her face leaving clear rivers through his red-tinged cheeks. 
You give her the epinephrine. Slowly but surely her sweating ceases, and her forehead begins to dry. Her legs spasm, stronger than before. She’s getting worse. 
“Mrs. Lannister,” Dr. Baratheon says, trying to console the weeping woman, “Mrs. Lannister it’s alright. While Hematidrosis is quite disturbing, it’s not serious.”
“Not serious?!” Mrs. Lannister says in a shrill voice, eyes wide, “My daughter is sweating blood, and you’re telling me it’s not serious?”
“Paged,” Dr. Targareyn says entering the room, “Dr. Baratheon.”
“Mrs. Lannister, this is Dr. Helaena Targaryen, one of our pediatric surgeons and infectiology specialists.”
“Infecto..what?” Mrs. Lannister says as Helaena moves around Cece’s bed. 
Cece’s eyes are panicked and she holds onto your wrist with a vice-like grip.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” you tell her, “Dr. Targaryen is just checking on you.”
Helaena brings out a penlight, instructing Cece to follow it with her eyes.
“Mrs. Lannister, have you traveled anywhere recently?” she asks, continuing her assessment. 
“Um,” Mrs. Lannister struggles to find words, placing a hand on her forehead and closing her eyes, “Yes. We got back a couple of weeks ago.”
“Where?”
“Naath. It was Cece’s idea, she’d been reading about the flora and fauna, she’s such a bright kid she loves all that stuff,” Mrs. Lannister says through tears.
Helaena smiles at Cece.
“I like that stuff too,” she tells the young girl, “Cece, what did you see on your trip? Any cool plants, bugs, animals?”
“L-lots,” Cece answers shakily, still holding on to you tightly.
“Tell me about them.”
“Um well…they’re famous for their butterflies,” Cece tells her, “They’re huge.”
“They are,” Helaena confirms, “I’ve never seen them in person, but I’d like to. Did you touch any butterflies?”
“Yes, but I washed my hands! Right after!”
“What color was the butterfly you touched?”
“There were so many--”
“Try and remember, the ones you know you touched.”
“Blue…..green…..one that was black and white,” she says teary-eyed, “Did the butterfly hurt me?”
“It didn’t mean to,” Helaena says softly, “They don’t know any better.”
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“Butterfly fever. It’s a bacterial infection spread in Naath,” Helaena says to you and Dr. Baratheon outside Cece’s room, “She’ll need a routine of antibiotics, I can consult with my team on a proper regime.”
She turns to you.
“Good work,” she praises, “Butterfly fever can get pretty nasty. Skin sloughing off, and so forth.”
“She’s right, Y/L/N,” Dr. Baratheon praises, “Good work.”
“Thanks,” you tell her. 
After establishing Cece’s antibiotic treatment and giving it to the nurses' station, you make your way to the intern locker room. You quickly change out of your scrubs, eager to be back in normal clothes. Closing your locker, you check your phone. Jace, Sara, Cory, and Nettles have texted saying they’re waiting down in the lobby.
You leave the locker room, putting your phone in your pocket when you see him. Leaning against the door Aemond’s head turns as you walk out.
“Hey,” he says, straightening up. He’s still in scrubs, clearly, his shift isn’t over.
“Hey.”
He’s quiet for a moment, wetting his lips as he tries to find the words he wants to say.
“Look about earlier--”
“Aemond,” you cut him off, “We can either do this or not. You’re either in or out, but you have to make a decision.”
Aemond is silent, blue and violet eyes watching you. 
“What do you want?” he asks quietly.
“I just want you,” you answer honestly, “What do you want?”
“I….” Aemond struggles to speak, biting the tip of his tongue.
It’s not an outright rejection, but it still hurts like one. You sigh, looking down at your shoes. 
“I can’t decide for you,” you tell him, beginning to walk by, “That’s up to you.”
He doesn’t stop you as you continue to walk by, doesn’t reach out and pull you toward him. He lets you go. You find your friends in the lobby, force a smile on your face as you travel to the Dragon’s Den, and eagerly accept the tequila shots Cory buys you. There’s no text this time. 
Perhaps he made his choice. 
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note: hope you liked it!! LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH!!
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enkvyu · 8 months
Note
HIII I HEARD UR TAKING REQUESTS!!! (I think if not jus ignore this) bf headcanons with geto plzzzz :( hes just a silly lil guy (I LOVE HIM SO MUCH OH MY GOD) anwzzz have a gud day :33
getou as your bf headcannons
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thanks for the request anon, i hope you have a good day too !! btw ure so real he is just a lil guy ☹️ he isn’t defined by his actions (what murder?) he’s just a babygirl ! i wrote this for teen getou but then i thought might as well do a few thoughts on adult getou. i hope this is okay!
teen getou
you confessed first and getou laughed it off, thinking you just wanted to copy his homework. but when he saw you slowly turn red, he realised that this was the real deal. super awkward confession and you tease him about it all the time, professing your love to him every time you need something from him just so he can recall the embarrassment he caused on that day
in the beginning of your relationship, he really wanted you to wear his clothes and have it be a causal thing. but because he's nervous, and because shoko and gojo are bad influences, he decides the only way for you to comfortably ask for his shirts and jumpers was to wear yours first. gojo assures him you'll find it funny and realise that boundaries such as "yours" and "mine" will be blurred this point forward. taking his friends' advice, getou shimmies into your jujutsu uniform and knocks on your dorm door, posing to make you laugh. it's only when he sees the disbelief on your face that he regains his senses
the type to be looking at you no matter what he’s doing. you’re telling him about your day and he’s drinking water? he’s looking at you over the rim of the glass. you get called in class to answer a question you weren't paying attention to? getou is already looking at you, mouthing the (incorrect) answer. you’re comparing hand sizes? look up and you’ll find him looking at you instead of your interlocked fingers. it’s natural that he’s the first to notice when things are wrong, and the first to tease you
the type to smile when he gets angry and make a face that says "what (kind of nonsense) are you talking about?" he deflects a lot in arguments and never yells, but his low voice is honestly scarier
no sense of personal space whatsoever (blame gojo) so if you want to make a move on him, you have to be very direct. it's a double-edged sword because he'll be teaching you boxing and cover your hand with his to reposition your posture, and only you will think something of it. but at the same time, you can simply wrap your arms around his neck, lean in, and he'll break out in a cold sweat and a blush. he's simple in that way
a girl's kind of guy. he'll hand you a cushion or a plushie if you sit down wearing a skirt or a dress and if there isn't any, he'll wordlessly take off his jacket and hand it to you. always has a spare hairband around his wrist but he doesn't tell you that he also uses it to close off open chip bags when he can't finish them in one sitting. sometimes you do wonder why it smells like salt and vinegar
will take something of yours just so you can ask him for help. if it's raining, he'll take your umbrella so the two of you can walk home under his. of course, he'll be the one walking on the outer edge of the path
getou's a gym rat. wakes up chugs a protein shake (doesn't use a blender, shaking it super hard is enough). usually focuses on arms and abdomen and loves to show off whether it's through boxing or doing push ups with you on his back. objectively, he's really fit but there's something about him walking around his dorm shirtless just to catch a glimpse of himself being Buff that's annoying
thinks he can charm his way out of any situation (he can). he was praised a lot as a kid for being pretty and kind which led him to slipping out of situations he didn't want to be in just by smiling. he thinks the same thing can work on you (usually it does)
late night missions means sleep deprivation for class the next morning, and you carry the bulk of it after three consecutive missions. the next morning, even yaga winces at the heavy bags under your eyes. of course, it’s your boyfriend who’s by your side first. he does most of the talking that day and doesn't say anything when you doze off mid-sentence. he even angles his body so your head can comfortably rest on his shoulder and doesn’t say (much) anything when he sees you drooling. you notice that throughout the day, his hand is always hovering your back
extra — adult getou:
has the habit of talking to you like you're a stray kitten sometimes. there's a benevolent smile on his face and his words are soft, coaxing you out gently as if you were buzzing to flee. it's something he developed after raising nanako and mimiko, but it works just as well on you, too
he still does the same "what the fuck?" smile when he gets angry, but there's a sinister edge to it now, like he's waiting to see how far you can push it before he does something about it
an absolutely terrible chef. perhaps it's because his tastebuds has been destroyed by his technique and cigarettes, but everything he makes is either too salty, too bland, too spicy or everything in between. his culinary skills are fine, and his presentation is frankly award winning but take one bite and you're rushed to the hospital. usually, the two of you just go out for dinner or order uber eats
likes the sensation of someone playing with his hair. whether it's getting you to dry his hair after he gets out of the shower, or allowing himself to be a mannequin to your sudden desire at being a hair stylist, he's satisfied
still likes walking around shirtless or in a shirt that is half open (just take it off at that point) but at least this time, you also get a view. his confidence in his body has skyrocketed, and now it's one of the main thing he uses to get a reaction out of you. if you call him out for it, he'll just :3 "what do you mean?"
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ratsandclocks · 1 year
Text
Sharing (part 1)
(Male Reader/Rodolfo Parra/Valeria Garza/Alejandro Vargas/Phillip Graves)
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📝3,508 words(oops) | 18+ | Smut
Alejandro and Graves cannot seem to get along when it comes to having you. Valeria and Rudy hate seeing you upset. They stir up a plan where everyone is happy at the end of the night.
Tags: polyamorous, F/M/M/M/M, Sub/Dom dynamics, pillow prince reader, punishment, restraints, forced proximity, voyeurism, oral(m & f receiving), anal fingering, self imposed edging, overstimulation, subspace(?), no use of y/n, use of petnames; Babe, Baby, Babyboy, Cielito, Cariño, Corazoncito
Dom Valeria, Dom Rudy, Switch Alejandro, Switch Graves, Sub Male Reader.
Note: This took a bit longer to write since you can see, the fic itself got longer than I first anticipated. I tried my best to give everyone some attention but its hard when there's five fucking people. Might finish tomorrow or the day after depending how busy I get but I'll try to update as soon as I can. Anyways this has gotten out of hand... and into the other cuz im jerking off—
Disclaimer: Author does not speak Spanish(fluently) and only used Google for minimum research. If any of the Spanish words used seem off, grammatically incorrect, and/or inappropriate, please inform me and I'll try to fix them.
A petty argument. One that's been going on for about a week between Alejandro and Graves. That's what got you all in this position.
You don't even remember what it was they were fighting about—could be that food you left on the fridge for them that they decidedly did not want to share with each other, could be Philip's now-empty bottle of aftershave that you like the smell of so much, could be that time you wore his shirt to sleep instead of Alejandro's—who cares what the fight was, all you know is that there's heat between them when it comes to you and you did not like that…
Now Rudy didn't like seeing you in distress, neither did Valeria. So naturally, they'd do something about that. And sure enough, they did.
"You're fucking with me." Graves says, as a matter of factly as he watched Rudy handcuff his right hand with Alejandro's left to his pure dismay. Their other hands weren't free either, as they were as tightly tied to their respective sides of the sofa, leaving them immobilized and stuck close to each other. Looking at them together feels like watching two dogs wary of each other, ready to pounce at the slightest provocation—you were simply glad that they cannot do anything about it, but you do pity their place. Their seat was facing the bed, right where you sat with Valeria comfortably kneeling beside you, the two of you not wearing more than your shirt and underwear.
"I'm not." Rudy responded firmly, arms crossed as he glared at the two. "You don't get to touch mi Cielito or yourselves. Not until you start getting along."
"Rudy…" you plead in their defense, but the man only looked at you softly, denied you with a shake of his head, then walked closer towards the bed.
"Don't feel too bad about them now, Cariño." Valeria cooed to you, absently stroking your hair. Her eyes were on the two tied up men while she spoke, directing her words to them just as much. "They weren't being nice, were they?"
"I'm not being nice?" Alejandro finally spoke, pointing his left hand to himself accusingly, only for Graves to pull away the same handcuffed arm. "Look at him!" Alejandro defended himself.
"You've upset our boy, Gilipollas." Rudy lectured, eyes still on yours. You would've said something—another plea or something along the lines of 'you don't have to do this' or 'it's not a big deal'—but Rudy was sitting with you now, hands on your chin to face him and stare at his longing eyes, and that look effectively shut you up. "He deserves way better from you both."
You gasped in surprise when Valeria gripped your hair to pull your head back, her lips suddenly latched onto your neck, already finding the sensitive spot just under your ear. "That he does."
Hands were all over you in a matter of seconds. Valeria's were groping and undressing you, not rushing but surely more forceful than Rudy's. He was way gentler compared to her, softly caressing every inch of your skin she exposes as he kissed your mouth, slowly but just as passionately as Valeria's. All of it familiar, all of it just right.
Heat rushes up your skin. It was already making you lightheaded, their contrast nearly giving you whiplash, but you love seeing their differences, making up for what each other lacked. How they mix so well just to please you, all of them and more just for you—something you wish Alejandro and Phillip could do together.
"You were the one who stole my shit." You heard Graves grumbling. When you looked at him, your eyes met and caught him in a scowl, but his frustrations were clearly directed towards the man beside him.
"It's a shared bathroom, Pendejo." Alejandro quipped, to which he earned a tug on the cuffs from the other man. He tugged back and now they look like little brats fighting over a piece of candy. You couldn't help but frown at the sight, which Rudy quite immediately notices.
"Ey!" He yelled at them and the two men froze in an instant. "You keep fighting like that and you won't get to touch him at all."
"It's not fair, Rudy." Alejandro whined, easily switching from hostility to something more submissive, something he does that usually riles up Rudy. Not tonight though.
"And you're not being fair to him either. Just look—" at that, Alejandro finally looked at you. Your brows furrowed and eyes slightly teary, and clearly not for the reason of being in the debauched position Valeria's hands put you in. Oh how that just breaks his heart, seeing his poor corazoncito longing for him, so close yet so far. How hurt you must be from all his stubbornness.
"You think he wants you two away? That he doesn't want you here with him right now? Think he doesn't want to feel you inside him? You two are the ones depriving our lover of yourselves. Think about that."
"Do you want them, Cariño?" Valeria lewdly whispered to your ears, but loud enough that the other men could hear it. You only nodded, unable to form words while she trails her hands into your boxers, rubbing and stroking you under the garment. "Want their cocks inside of you? Touch every inch of your skin? Fuck you 'til you can't walk like you deserve it?"
"Mhm…" you moaned when her hand gripped your cock, your hips involuntary fucking into her hand.
"Then they gotta be good, right? Else they don't deserve you. Bad boys don't get to touch my sweet sweet boy."
She's pulled you out now and your cock was on full display for them all, hard and dripping as she stroked it. Rudy took off your boxers, throwing it haphazardly somewhere in the room to be picked up later in the next morning. When Valeria let go of you, Rudy took over quickly, teasing his thumb on your slit and you arched your back, promptly falling onto the bed with a whine. You were panting when he let the teasing off, but he didn't stop stroking you in slow firm tugs. Valeria chuckled fondly at the sight as she's taking off her panties, giving you and the rest of the men a show.
"Look at him, Rudy," she says, seductively crawling back towards you, "so sweet and sensitive. Such a shame they won't get a taste."
"Val…" you whined, reaching for her. She's cradling your face now, making you look straight into her eyes.
"You need something, Cariño?" It was almost condescending how she said it, but god if it weren't making you desperately buck into Rudy's hand you would've complained.
"Need you… up here—" she kissed you then—mouth on yours, full of hunger, moans and grunts, teeth and tongue, completely overpowering you—before pulling away and crawling farther. She moved to hover just above your head, legs on either side as she reposition herself with her cunt just above your face. Another whine escaped you when her hands went back to your hair, pressing you into the bed.
"Show me then," she ordered, "show me how much you need me. Show them what they're missing out on."
Your hands wrapped around her thighs, pulling her down and ravaging her like she's the last meal of your life. You lap your tongue at her, burying your face deeper and pushing in your tongue farther. Nose nuzzling to her clit so perfectly that she twitches above you. She was clearly amused, letting out an exaggerated moan to egg on the tied up men.
"So good for me, Cariño. There, there, just like that—dios mio, that tongue! So good. Keep going, baby. They don't deserve you like this."
"Fuck's sake." Graves grunted. Valeria knows just how much he loves your mouth, because you know how to use it. He loves it when you kiss him and try to win him over, giving a good fight only to let him take charge in the end. He loves when you nip and bite on his skin, not too hard to hurt but just soft enough to make him feel like heaven. He loves when you suck on his cock desperately like it's your life on the line, loves how you use that tongue oh so sweetly around him. He loves everything about that mouth of yours, and now Valeria's using it against him.
You thrust your hips when you felt Rudy's tongue circling on your tip. He lifted one of your legs up with his free hand, squeezing lube on your balls to drip onto your ass, and proceeding to tease a finger into your hole. It wasn't much trouble prepping you—with how much you get fucked all the time, surely it won't be—but he still takes his time with it, pushing in slowly, always in search of something, making sure you feel good all throughout. He fucked you earnestly with those fingers, twitching when he found that spot that melts your bones and he instantly stopped with his movements, only to start profusely rubbing that spot and make you whine shamelessly.
And you heard Alejandro let out a strangled groan, now fully aware of Rudy's intentions to tease him.
"So cruel, mi rey." He groaned at the sight, he can see so clearly when Rudy's putting you on display like that. He always loved your ass—loved the involuntary movements you make and sounds you let out when it was him playing with you, making you feel good, when you squeeze around his cock plunged deep into you. God, does he wish it was him in Rudy's place, and Rudy knows that really well, so he's making it a show. Rudy pulled his mouth away.
"Keep watching." Rudy spoke before shoving your cock straight down his throat without a warning.
You moaned into Valeria's cunt, sending shivers down her spine and she chuckled. Now fully sat on your face, she grinds her hips on you, vigorously chasing her high until she stiffens above you, letting out a long moan and sigh in relief as she came on your face. She gave a few more thrusts into your tongue before getting off to the side, lifting you to lay your body between her thighs.
"Would you look at that, Babe." She addressed Graves who is now looking at you with a certain thirst in his gaze. Your face glistening in Val's wetness, eyes closed and brows furrowed in pleasure as Rudy kept bobbing his head, working you up. Valeria's hands traveled to your chest, pinching your nipples and making your back arch. "You wanna come, cariño?" She asked and Rudy sucked on the tip of your cock his fingers fucking into you faster to get you off quicker. But you mewled in response, head shaking as you held tightly on her arms and he immediately slowed his movements down.
"No?" Rudy asks, a heated look on his face. "What do you want then? Wanna get fucked in the ass, mi Cielito? Need a cock to come on to?"
You didn't need to say anything more, you nodded and Rudy carefully let you go. Your chest was heaving and you felt weak, too deep into the headspace Valeria had put you in and the pleasure you were just swimming in. You couldn't move on your own and so the two of them worked together to reposition you.
Now you're facing the men on their seats, your chest pressing on the bed with your ass up in the air. The men in front of you were looking at you with a certain darkness in their eyes, they seem painfully hard under their tight pants, their chests rising visibly with their heavy breathing. Graves couldn't stay still in his seat, constantly moving as if it'll do anything to ease the tightness in his pants—it doesn't.
"Phillip…" you whined, eyes staring at him with haze, god you were so pretty. The man could only groan in response.
"You alright, Baby?" Graves asked, because as much as he wants to take care of you, it's all he could do.
Rudy's hand was on you again, splayed out on the bottom of your spine while the other held his cock, teasing your hole just before slowly prodding in. He was big, you knew that—you're used to it, in fact—but it never fails to make you keen, feeling the stretch no matter how much grueling prep he gives you. You bit your lip as you tried to relax, sighing when you finally felt him bottom out.
"You were asked a question, Cielito." Rudy reminded you, hand reaching to stroke your hair as if to help you ground yourself. You leaned into the touch as you moaned, letting out an affirmative 'Mhm' to answer.
"I'm good…" you sighed, plopping yourself back into the bed, your hands reached to clench the sheets and prepare yourself. You grind your ass to feel Rudy's cock and it's all he needed before he started fucking you.
It was slow and sensual, dragging his thick cock to the tip before slowly pushing in again. You could almost feel every vein on him, every time his head almost caught on that sweet spot inside you but just barely missed—you knew he's doing it on purpose.
"So pretty, isn't he?" You heard Valeria. You don't remember when but she's now behind Alejandro and Graves, caressing Phillip's face with one hand while exploring Alejandro's body with the other. Graves had his head leaning against her while the other man was tense in his seat, trying—failing—to feign control of his desires.
"See what you're fighting for? Getting fucked raw without you?" Valeria said to Phillip, lightly biting his ear to tease before turning to Alejandro neck. "All because you don't know how to share."
You screamed when Rudy suddenly slammed into you, slowly pulling out before slamming back in. Then he took pace, quickening without losing the strength in his thrusts. You were a moaning mess, broken noises leaving your mouth as air gets punched out of your lungs.
"Does it feel good?" Valeria asked and you barely registered that it was directed at you, all you could manage was a pathetic whimper as Rudy mercilessly pounded into you, "Words, Cariño."
"S'good… s-so—" you let out a yelp when Rudy finally hits that spot, deciding to keep abusing it and leaving you a thoughtless, sobbing, mewling mess under him—Under Valeria, and under all of their gazes. You were boneless on the bed, head in the clouds, you felt like you'd float through the ceiling any second, and you were thankful for the moment Rudy put his weight on your back, engulfing you with warmth as perched his hands on the side of your head.
Your gaze wandered through the room, processing anything was a struggle with your mind being full of haze, but you could see Graves struggling through his breathing and the bulge in his uncomfortably tight jeans. He bit his lips as your eyes met and you could only imagine the torture he was in right now. You were like a caged man observing a hungry shark in the ocean—you can see the urge it had to pounce, to destroy the barrier between you, and devour you til you're nothing but bones. But he can't have his way, can't even touch himself, can't give himself any relief. All he could do was simply watch you in your position, so enticing, so good for them all.
It was when he broke the connection between you that you noticed Alejandro had his hand on Graves' thighs, slowly rubbing up on him with a proud smirk on his face.
"The hell are you doing?" He asked Alejandro, a little wary, but just as much curious of the man's intentions.
"Can't touch ourselves, but they didn't say anything about touching each other. Might as well give the boy a little show." Alejandro said, his hand traveling farther into Graves' inner thigh. His breath hitched, swallowing a lump in his throat at the teasing touch. "Unless you'd rather you sit your ass there wishing you could get off by just watching."
"No." Graves said firmly without missing a beat—much to your surprise. He closed his eyes, rested his head back and let out a sigh, "Keep… keep going…"
That proud smirk on Alejandro's face got impossibly more smug and he did not hesitate to move his hand straight to Graves' bulge, pressing and rubbing on it with enough pressure to make the man keen and relax on his seat. Alejandro was quick to decide to unbutton Phillip's jeans, shoving his hand in and pulling his cock out. It was painfully red, dripping and desperate, and by God did you want it in your mouth right now.
You would've begged Rudy to let you suck off the man, but Alejandro is quicker than you could think. He was already leaning down—as uncomfortable the restraints make it—and licking the precum before it could drip down his shaft, then bobbing his head while his hand pumped the man's shaft. Phillip let out a sigh, finally opening his eyes to find Valeria beside him, looking down at him with amusement.
"What?" Graves panted, eyes heavy as he tried to read Valeria's look.
"Nothing," she feigned, leaning down closer to the man, then pulling his head back til his neck was exposed enough to the woman's desire, watching the man's throat bob as he swallowed, "you just look so cute getting along."
She kissed him with vigor, the other hand cradling his neck and their mouth fought for dominance with Valeria at an advantage. Her hand traveled to his chest, squeezing it once before traveling farther down his stomach, tracing every muscle until she reached Alejandro's head. She pulled him off and you can see his stubble glistening from his own spit, she quickly moved into kissing him now, freeing her other hand to reach for Graves' cock, covering Alejandro's bigger hand and pumping it together.
As much as you wanted to keep watching, you couldn't look anymore with how much Rudy was trying to keep your attention on his cock, it was a task to even keep your eyes open. Desperately needing to ground yourself, you reach for Rudy's hand, which he decided to interlock with yours. You gripped it like a lifeline, feeling that heat in your stomach starting to overfill and you were tightening around Rudy.
"Oh? You close, Cielito?" Rudy panted next to your ear, "Are you gonna come? Go ahead, you can do it. Come on my cock."
You didn't need to be told twice. Your cock twitched and soon enough, you came hard, face buried into the mattress muffling your otherwise loud moan, shuddering from the pleasure that shot through your spine.
Rudy fucked you through your orgasm, riding it out with you until the sensation starts edging into overwhelming pleasure. He was still pounding into you, quicker and harder, chasing his own end.
"So close, mi Cielito. Just a little more, I know you can take more. Take it."
Your legs are near to giving up, thighs shook from the exertion, but you stayed still, stayed good for him and let him use you all he wants. You were rewarded with a tight embrace, and the warm feeling of his cum painting your walls. He finally slowed down, hips stuttering as he slowly pulled out. Your legs finally gave out and you went limp on the soft mattress, Rudy followed with you to keep embracing you from behind, giving your back little pecks of kisses and nuzzling on your shoulder.
"Muy bien, mi Cielito. You did so good for me." You felt his warm breath on your neck as he kissed you just under your ear, caressing your hips and just showering you with all the love he could give. You'd love to stay like that for eternity, engulfed in his affection, you could never get used to it. Unfortunately, it had to end sooner than you wished. He pulled away, leaving your behind exposed to the cold air, but not for long as you felt strong arms flip you to lay on your back.
You find all of them above you, even Alejandro and Graves now free from their restraints on the seat.
"Still with us, Cariño?" Asked Valeria and you smiled, letting out a sigh that's more of a stuttered laugh. You couldn't help the heat crawling back up your skin seeing them all looking down at you, you swallowed a lump in your throat before answering.
"Never left." You spoke, part smugness, part teasing. They all smiled, fully understanding what you meant by those words alone—more.
"Good." Alejandro growls, and your stomach drops at the feral look he gives you, his smile widening, tongue going over his teeth like watching food served to him on a silver platter.
"Because two of us just learned how to share."
(To be continued…)
1K notes · View notes
charliemwrites · 5 months
Text
Extended Keeper/Kept Universe
(Separated by Keeper; Updated 12/4/23; let me know if any parts or links are missing/incorrect)
Johnny's Shy Thing:
Johnny's Shy Thing (intro); Thoughts Shy Thing getting nabbed Going down (nsfw; NEW) Shy Thing's first time (nsfw) Shy Thing's first day; More Thoughts (tm); Johnny pushes First movie night Shy Thing's sneaky kisses Johnny smokes Sad Shy Thing Shy Thing and Johnny sleep together (not spicy) Shy Thing's first ~spice (nsfw); Going down (nsfw) Bath Time for Shy Thing Discipline for Shy Thing Drawing Shy Thing; Self-Conscious Hobbies A Shy Thing in the forest; Running away; Aftermath Johnny is injured Johnny snaps at the baby Johnny with the red mask; Shy Thing wears the mask Spice with the red mask (nsfw) Explosions Shy Thing gets mad; aftermath (NEW) Shy Thing and Price (nsfw) Cameras and self-care (nsfw; NEW) Period (NEW)
Price's Good Girl:
Price is a trainer Good Girl's first day; Early days Good Girl hesitates Sick Good Girl Good girl and Price sleeping Together (not spicy) Good Girl's first time (nsfw); Price is a dom Good Girl + oral (nsfw) Thoughts about Good Girl Discipline for Good Girl; Aftercare; Drabble (nsfw) Good Girl's crates Edging (nsfw) Under Price's desk Period (nsfw) Price gets mad Depressive episode Daddy (nsfw; NEW) Holiday (NEW) Nightmare (NEW)
Others:
Rudy's (solo) (NEW) Alejandro's (solo) (nsfw; NEW) AleRudy's shared pet + Valeria (NEW)
Pairs/Trios/+ Gaz:
Autistic Shy Thing and Good Girl Feral, Shy Thing, and Good Girl meet Feral, Shy Thing, and Good Girl play with their keepers Good Girl gets babysat by Simon Simon babysits Shy Thing Shy Thing likes Price Price babysits Feral with Good Girl; Aftermath; Aftermath pt.2 Feral is a bad influence on Good Girl (semi-nsfw) Feral is a bad influence on Shy Thing Gaz babysits all 3 creatures; Johnny babysits all 3 Bring your pet to work day Halloween Drunk Girls Chores Clumsy pets "You don't love me" What do you have? A knife! Gaz as a kept creature; Thoughts(tm) Traveling Different kind of kisses Emotional support items Dangerous Sports Pet names for keepers Dissociating First kisses Keepers' scents (NEW) "I like you" (NEW); "I love you" (NEW) Jealousy (NEW) Good luck charms (NEW) Act of care (NEW) Anniversary (NEW) "What if I never love you back" (NEW) Weighted blanket (NEW) Bored (NEW)
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yeonboy · 1 month
Text
𝐚 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞 ♡ choi yeonjun. ⇝ teaser
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For the past two years, you have been an ordinary—if a bit more stressed than others—college student with a life so normal, it almost falls on the wrong side of boring. And then in the middle of one uneventful night, your college’s darling ace student, ace sportsman, the ace cutie that every girl has a crush on, Choi Yeonjun decides to slip into your dorm room – and your life turns upside down.
❧ choi yeonjun x f. reader | 16+ | college!au ♡ strangers to lovers!au ♡ humor ♡ fluff
❧ words! 1 k for the teaser [~8 k for the entire fic]
❧ warnings! profanity, suggestive language, exams related anxiety, incorrect econ major related discord + and more in the actual fic (:
❧ note! hey, everyone! tho i'm not a fan of teasers without a concrete posting date, i needed to put sth out there for the sake of my brain :// mental health's been on a rollercoaster and writer's block been heavy this spring! i hope y'all enjoy this lil cracked up (and a lil concerning) bite of fluff and anticipate the actual fic!
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❧ masterlist | inbox ⁘
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Sighing again, you blindly move your hand towards the light switch in the room – only for a hand to wrap around your wrist. 
Wha—
Heart stopping and brain freezing in bone-chilling fear, you unhinge your jaw to let out a scream. But not even a whole second later, a palm is placed over your parted lips and a body pushes you to the wall next to the light switch with an urgent hush whispered in your ear.
“Please don’t scream, I’m not gonna harm you, I just need your help!”
The stranger sounds and feels like a male. 
What the hell is a strange man doing in your very all-girls dorm?
You wanna scream louder, something that this stranger senses because he suddenly presses his body tighter against you, this time dipping his face into the crook of your neck, lips against the shell of your ear when he shushes you.
Okay, now why did that cover your entire body with goosebumps? Of the good kind?
“I’m not a creep I swear, I was just escaping an embarrassing situation and this room was unlocked so I slipped in, please let me explain!”
You try to calm yourself down, taking a deep breath which immediately lets you know that this not a creep actually smells really heavenly. You kinda wanna sniff him again, but catch yourself at the last moment.
Leaning your head farther away to press it against the wall, you narrow your eyes at the short-haired silhouette of the guy that is lit up at the edges due to the light entering the room from the window directly behind him. The hand which held your wrist moves, then, and flicks the light switch.
You immediately squeeze your eyes shut due to the blast of photons across the room, and the stranger slowly steps away from you, very tenderly letting go of your mouth – which had honestly started to hurt a little – at the end. Massaging the side of your jaw, you slowly open one of your lids, and then the other.
Then you blink. And blink again. And nearly have an aneurysm because damn does the campus It-Boy look even hotter up close.
Choi Yeonjun stands before you in his pale orange hair glory, wearing a fitted off-sleeves, off-white sweater. And, shit, are those pearls around his neck? Yes. Yes, they are.
While you’re still hovering in the limbo between shock and awe, the guy launches into a rushed and stuttered explanation.
“Th–thanks for not screaming. I’m… Ugh, I don’t even know where to begin, but like – I – I was trying to surprise my girlfriend who lives in this very dorm, a floor above—you know, where all popular seniors live—and, um, just as I reacher her door I heard sounds of the…sexual nature…echoing inside, so – so I investigated and guess what? My girlfriend is fucking my best friend behind my back!”
Your jaw drops open. “I… what the hell, man?” you whisper, stunned and disgusted. “That’s so awful…”
“Right? And embarrassing.” He shakes his head. Then his eyebrows suddenly fly up. “Oh! I am Choi—”
“Yeonjun, the uni’s ace Senior. I know. Everyone does.”
A faint blush rises up his cheeks, lips pursing as he shrugs one bare shoulder. Okay, damn, his biceps have got some good definition. “Yeah… well. So you know how I was—or still am, I guess—in a relationship with—”
“Kim Yerim? Know that too, unfortunately, all my friends in all the srats are obsessed with y’all.” You give a small sigh. “Her cheating is such a pity.”
“God, I know right? This is gonna be so horrible,” he murmurs, almost to himself, and bites down on his lip.
You snap your fingers in front of his face. “Um, excuse me? Is that all? I’m sorry for you, man, truly, but um, can you leave now? You’re really wasting my very precious time.”
He really is. The only reason why you didn’t flip out yet was because—as embarrassing as it—you were distracted by the guy’s astonishingly good looks. But his beauty isn’t gonna help you pass tomorrow’s exam.
Suddenly regretting wasting the ten minutes that you had saved by ditching Chaeryeong at the convenience store, you clap your hands together and reach for your door. “Great talk! Or not? I guess? See you around, Choi Yeonjun!”
His eyes grow very wide at that and both hands come up to stop you from unlocking your door, before you have even made the move to fully turn around, and—
Oh.
Now you’re caged between the door and both his arms. The same arms with all that muscular definition you just saw up close. 
“Please don’t kick me out. Let me stay here. Please.”
This time it is your eyes that bulge out. “The hell? Why?”
He retracts his hands to brace one of them on his waist and pinch the bridge of his nose with the forefinger and thumb of the other. “I can’t leave…”
You lean away from him. “Dude, if you’re looking for a shoulder to cry on? You’ve come to the absolutely worst person. And if you’re looking for a rebound hook-up… well, could you wait till I’m done with tomorrow’s exam?”
Yeonjun’s face goes from confused to intrigued to humorous. “None of those, actually, but – I’ll keep your offer in mind.”
His wink shoots sparks through you and you immediately purse your lips. “It wasn’t an—okay, then what do you want? My econ exam is tomorrow and I stand to lose all my credits if I flunk this, so please—”
“Wait, econ?” He spins on his heels to peek at your textbook and the slides you had pulled up on your laptop, leaving you gaping behind him. “Ooh, Consumer Behavior? This is a good one. D’you have flash cards? Don’t skip decision roles, Professor Jeon is obsessed with ’em.”
You look at the guy with wide eyes. “Uh—what?”
Looking at you over his shoulder, Yeonjun flashes you a grin. “You’re talking to a 99 scorer in Consumer Behavior.”
— COMING SOON!
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