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#the way she likes meat over anything else??
a-dauntless-daffodil · 19 hours
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Charlie: “So this is what a full hotel looks like…”
Vaggie: “Think it’ll survive until Extermination day?”
Charlie: “I don’t know if I’LL survive to Extermination day.”
Vaggie: “Aww, babe.”
Charlie: “Seriously, who keeps ordering pizza??? We all already KNOW the cannibals will just skip it and try chewing on the poor delivery person!”
Vaggie: “My bet’s on Angel Dust. He’s not exactly thrilled the place got filled up with ‘shit smiling judgmental prudes.’”
Charlie: “Whyyy didn’t I remember the cannibals have a whole dress-code thingy?”
Vaggie: “They are being polite about it though.”
Charlie: “They keep eyeing Angel Dust’s exposed thighs like they’re chicken wings.”
Vaggie: “And if they wanted to eat him up in any other way, he’d be thrilled.”
Charlie: (growling) “Some of them keep looking at YOUR thighs as if they were-”
Vaggie: “Anything other than property of Charlie Morningstar?”
Charlie: “-Vaggie they want to TEAR YOU APART!”
Vaggie: “And they’re not actually trying it, which is polite, even if they’re still talking about how angels might taste whenever I’m in the room.”
Charlie: (pout) “You taste good.”
Vaggie: “Not like that, babe.”
Charlie: “How could the rest of you not taste good too??”
Vaggie: “Ask the cannibals. Meat flavors based on where the meat thing lived and what it ate, something something- What if angel steaks taste like artificial food coloring?”
Charlie: “I like those-!”
Vaggie: "I know." (laughing) “Maybe that’s another reason why you’re the woman of my dreams.”
Charlie: “Am I?”
Vaggie: “The one and only.”
Charlie: “You’d never… think about leaving me for someone else?”
Vaggie: “NO?”
Charlie: “Someone a little more badass maybe?”
Vaggie: “Not possible. You called heaven out for being total bullshit. In a song.”
Charlie: “Maybe someone you had an instant and deep connection with?”
Vaggie: “Like the woman that bandaged my eye socket and took me home with her and nursed me through physical and emotional hell all because she also thought sinners might be people worth caring about?”
Charlie: “Well what about someone who… is just better? At the whole. Everything.”
Vaggie: “Literally who. Who the fuck-”
Charlie: “Carmilla?”
Vaggie: “Car-hhhhHHH." (chokes)
Vaggie: "AHAHAHAHAH! Charlie! WHAT!?”
Charlie: “She’s cool. She’s one of those, those muffin things right? Angel Dust said-”
Vaggie: “A milf, sweetie. It’s milf and PLEASE also listen to Husk’s reality checks whenever Angel Dust opens his well meaning but dumb as shit whore mouth.”
Angel Dust: (distantly) “My HOT and SEXY whore mouth heard that, toots!”
Vaggie: (yelling back) “Then go stick a dick in it!”
Angel Dust: “I’m tryin’~”
Charlie: (used to this) (ignoring them) “So the whole private training battle song thing was, not a turn on for you? At all?”
Vaggie: “If I ever call Carmilla Carmine ‘mommy’ it’ll be because she just signed my adoption papers.”
Charlie: “Oh! Okay! Juuuust wanted to check.”
Charlie: “…..”
Charlie: “Are you gonna ask about me and the head-to-heart I had with-”
Vaggie: “No.”
Charlie: “-because I was literally thinking about you the whole time-“
Vaggie: (smile) “That just took a perfectly non-worrying thing and made it sound bad.”
Charlie: “Is there a thing like a- an elf??”
Vaggie: “Aunt you’d like to fuck?”
Charlie: “Well not ME personally. But Rosie is very impressive.”
Vaggie: “You looked more impressed up in heaven.”
Charlie: “Huh? Heaven??”
Vaggie: “Nothing- never mind. I do actually have a lady-related question for you though.”
Charlie: “What does heaven have to do with- what?”
Vaggie: “I think I’m in love.”
Charlie: “WHAT!?”
Vaggie: “She’s ripped out my heart and I want to thank her for it.”
Charlie: “Th-thh that’s wait how when-?”
Vaggie: “Charlie.”
Charlie: “-y, yes?”
Vaggie: “Can we keep inviting Susan over, even after Extermination day?”
Charlie: “…”
Charlie: “Susan.”
Vaggie: “Charlie please? Please? She's the granny I don't deserve and desperately need in my life. Please please please please-”
Charlie: “But, Vaggie- She HATES everyone!”
Vaggie: “I know!”
Charlie: “And she SAYS it!?”
Vaggie: “And it’s so fucking cool.”
Charlie: “She said you dress like a hooker!”
Vaggie: “Angel Dust was furious. I think he would’ve thrown a punch at her, in defense of hookers everywhere, if Husk hasn’t grabbed him.”
Charlie: “A LAZY hooker!”
Vaggie: “That one hit home and I’ll cherish it’s sting forever.”
Charlie: “She’s not NICE. She doesn’t even PRETEND to be nice like the other cannibals do!”
Vaggie: “Isn’t that great?” (grinning) “She’s like, the anti-Alastor….”
Charlie: (sigh)
Charlie: “I guess… being brutally, painfully, rudely honestly about your feelings is… not the worst thing someone can be.”
Vaggie: “YES! Can we adopt the creepy old mean lady?”
Charlie: “She can visit. We are NOT inviting her to LIVE here.”
Vaggie: (smiling)
Charlie: “….”
Charlie: (drooping) “…not unless she wants to.”
Vaggie: “Thanks, sweetie.” (kiss) “She never would. She hates us all and especially the hotel. Ask her and she’ll tell you, in detail, how all our decorating ideas are terrible and she’s only here to grab the free snacks, shove some angel leftovers in her basket, and then fuck off to her own perfect home back in Cannibal Town.”
Charlie: “So why scare me like that by asking? SUSAN in the attic! Ughghgh…”
Vaggie: “’cause it’s nice hearing you’d be open to it anyway.”
Charlie: “Mmrmph.”
Vaggie: “I like remembering that you’re like this.”
Charlie: “Whipped marshmallow.”   
Vaggie: "That Angel Dust again?"
Charlie: "Maybe."
Vaggie: "I've got a better word for you."
Charlie: "Like 'girlfriend?"
Vaggie: “Like amazing.”
Charlie: (snorts) (smiles) "Heh. Alright, flattery accepted."
Vaggie: "My wonderfully, adorably dramatic, heart stopping and breathtakingly passionate girlfriend, the most incredible person I've ever met, who-"
Charlie: (laughing) “Now who’s being a sweetie?”
Vaggie: “Charlie, I’m seri- whoah!”
Niffty: (lifting up floor board vaggie was standing on and peeking up at them) “Hey guys!”
Charlie: “Niffty!” (hug lifting vaggie to safety) “W- hi! Um! What is it?”
Niffty: “A bad day not to wear underwear!”
Vaggie: “And a good day to Die.”
Niffty: "I WISH!" (GIGGLES) “News from the hotel gossip line! S.O.S from Husk- he says Angel Dust and some cannibals are fighting over who gets to put the new pizza delivery in their mouths while Cherri’s taking bets and also shots.”
Charlie: "Shots of alcohol?"
Niffty: "Laser gun!"
Charlie: "Nooooo I thought we'd cleaned up everything after Pen's last inventing spree!"
Niffty: "Missed one. She keeps missing too. She fried the pizza."
Vaggie: "Instead of?"
Niffty: (GRINS) "The pizza delivery person!"
Vaggie: “Ugh. We look away for Ten. Minutes.”
Charlie: “Well that’s not- that’s not TOO bad! At least Sir Pentious isn’t-”
Niffty: “His corpse is in the lobby.”
Charlie: “-right. Okay.”
Vaggie: “Why is he a corpse in the hotel lobby this time?”
Niffty: “The cannibals accidentally ate his tongue while he was trying to show Cherri how long it was and then he choked while proving he has no gag reflect and can unhinge his jaws.”
Charlie: “Oh.”
Niffty: “The cannibals want to snack on him again but Susan keeps yelling at them about ‘crumbling standards’ and ‘back in HER day-‘”
Vaggie: “I love her.”
Charlie: “I’m right here.”
Vaggie: “You kinda love her too right now.”
Charlie: (pulls face) “She can come to dinner every other week. If we live. For now though, let’s just, um.”
Vaggie: “Go save the snake man?”
Niffty: “That man is DEAD!”
Charlie: “Resuscitate. We should go resuscitate the snake m- Sir Pentious.”
Niffty: (giggles) “And I’m gonna go order another pizza boy~” (scurries back under floor board)
Vaggie: “Wait, Niffty-”
Charlie: “Niffty! Are YOU the one who’s been-? Vaggie NO-”
Vaggie: (spear out) (in pursuit) “GET OUT OF THE CRAWL SPACES RIGHT NOW AND COME BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE-”
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spacedlexi · 5 months
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i Need to draw more clemviminnie shit but how am i supposed to do that when minnie only exists alongside them for 2 episodes then dies
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#its why i alive her for some post s4 stuff just so i have more to work with 😔#but i dont Love doing that....she sealed her fate..she was lost in the sauce...#but theres so much there..............#the way minnie was concerned for vi while betrayed!vi and clem were fighting in the cell she def still had feelings...#they still wouldve been dating if she was never taken like......#ITS SO MESSY I LOVE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#like while i Do think there was some tension in their relationship somewhere bc that line in the woods didnt come from nowhere#no matter how changed she was by the delta that sentiment had to come from somewhere. maybe she could just never say it#but idk if they wouldve broken up over it and there was no reason for violets feelings to change either. she just grieved her 'death'#vi says the real minnie is gone and that she'll do what she has to to keep everyone else safe but like....#theres no way shes not still conflicted on some level like you can see it on the boat she cant leave her. esp since she kinda blames hersel#minnie being clems dark reflection but clem is minnies reflection just as much (obvs) the tension is palpable between them#clem being the part of herself that she killed when she killed sophie...the symbolism of killing your own twin...#and how much does clem remind her of sophie too like whos clem Really mirroring here#THERES SO MUCH MEAT THAT IM CHEWING ON THIS IS A GRAND MEAL#and i cant fucking do anything about it 😭 seriously how do i work within these constraints#there isnt even a 2 week jump like there is in ep2 theres no unaccounted for time in eps 3 and 4 ITS KILLING ME#i bet in a betrayed!vi route minnie was glad to see her when they made it to the boat. and vi feeling betrayed by clem was a perfect target#totally susceptible. minnie gets in her head that its safer to give in instead of fighting back... and now theyre together again...#vi betrayed by clem falling right back into minnies arms OOF girl get away she is Fucked Up..theyre both fucked up 😭 clem u broke her#betrayed!vis reaction to hearing minnies confession about sophie..girl must have been so emotionally fucked in that cell#mmm toxic yuri mmmmm :)#god clemvi really has it all..............................................#why would i need anything else...when clemvi is here#twdg#it speaks#still cant believe my fave girlie really got it all :)
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lovebugism · 9 months
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eddie x shy!reader , she asks him on a date by giving him tickets to a concert and he thinks its a joke til she walks away feeling rejected & he realizes she’s like dead serious & goes up to her
thanks for your request! i sorta broke my own heart with this one — the one where eddie rejects you and immediately regrets it (shy!reader, hurt/comfort, 2.6k)
bug's summer fic fest ♡
Robin tells you that he’s nice. She says he won’t turn you down because he loves Mötley Crüe too much and he’s called you pretty too many times. Robin Buckley is many things — a dork, a polyglot, and your best friend, to name a few — but she’s never been a liar.
She wouldn’t lead you to the slaughter that way. She wouldn’t just let you get your heart broken. More than anything, though, she knows Eddie far better than you do — partly because she’s actually able to talk to him.
So despite your lingering worry, you swallow her words like a shot of vodka and maneuver helplessly through the bustling crowd of the Hawkins High lunchroom.
Eddie Munson sits alone at the Hellfire Club table — the smallest one in the very back corner by the large square window. 
Instead of eating a real meal (even though the hamburgers might be horse meat instead of cow), the boy eats crumbled-up pretzels from a worn ziplock bag. He pinches them into his mouth blindly because his chocolate syrup gaze is trained on the well-loved book folded in his left hand. 
J.R.R Tolkien’s, The Hobbit.
It makes you smile softly to yourself. You hope one day you’ll have the courage to tell him you’ve read that book so many times you could recite it in your sleep. You hope that day comes soon.
“Eddie?” you call softly to him when you reach his table. Your sweaty fingers fidget with the concert tickets you clutch between them.
He just thinks he hears his name at first. It’s barely audible over the sounds of muddled chatter in the cafeteria. He glances up from his book, not expecting anyone to be there, and gaping when he finds you standing in front of him. 
His cinnamon eyes go wide. The boy blinks owlishly at you once, then flits his eyes behind you like he’s expecting to see someone there. When he doesn’t, he blinks at you again. 
“Hi…” you waver with a trembling smile.
Eddie grins back, still obviously confused. “…Hi?”
“I, uh… I don’t know if you heard, but— well, obviously you heard, that’s… that’s stupid,” you laugh at yourself, shaking your head with your eyes squeezed shut. You’re already stumbling all over yourself, and you haven’t even managed a full sentence yet.
“Mötley Crüe is coming to Indianapolis in a few days, and a friend of mine was selling tickets, so I bought them. For us. Potentially. You know, if you wanted to… to go… With me.”
Your offer lingers and hangs in the air between the two of you.
A smile quirks at the right side of Eddie’s pink mouth. It isn’t a kind one, though. It looks more cynical than anything else.
His head juts back. He’s almost peering at you from the corner of his eye as though you were some suspicious thing he needed to analyze. A laugh sputters from his lips. “Did Buckley put you up to this? Is that what this is?”
Your faltering smile fades entirely. Your features crumble in disappointment.
This worse he could say is no, Robin had told you. 
You hadn’t prepared yourself for this.
“…What?” you wonder, voice fragile like a wilting flower petal.
Eddie chuckles to himself. He sets the book down to give you his full attention, though you’re not sure you want it anymore. “You know, I knew she was upset about me trying to set her up with Vickie and all, but this is a… whole new low.”
“Vickie…?” you murmur through a tightening throat, brows pinched in confusion. “I don’t understand—”
“Look, sweetheart… Tell Robin that this was a real funny joke, but I’m not interested, alright?”
Your chest aches with an empty feeling. You think your heart might be breaking. “J—Joke?”
“—Actually, tell her that this was very not metal of her, and that I will get my vengeance,” Eddie says with a sardonic laugh deeply rooted in his chest. His smile looks almost like he pities you as he shakes his head, eyes twinkling with pessimism. “I’m sorry she sent you to do her dirty work, but… You should probably go now. This is, you know, the Hellfire Club table and everything, so…”
You swallow thickly, then nod.
Eddie doesn’t want you here. Eddie doesn’t want you at all.
“I’m— I’m sorry if I…” The words get caught in your throat. You clear it and blink back burning tears. “I was just… I thought that maybe—”
“Eddie!” a boyish voice calls from across the cafeteria, only halfway drowned out through all the noise. A group of guys in Hellfire shirts walk towards the table.
You take that as your cue to leave. You don’t want to burst into tears in front of your crush and all of his friends.
“I’m sorry,” is all you manage to choke out before turning on your heel and walking away.
He’d been smiling up until that point — like it was all a big joke to him — because it was. 
The girl he’s been fawning over since junior year comes out of nowhere with tickets to see one of his favorite bands? That was the kind of shit he dreamt about — the kind of plan only someone as vicious as Robin Buckley could concoct to hurt his feelings. And after spending so many years being the brunt of bullies, Eddie was tired of being embarrassed.
And at first, he thought you were just a really good actor. You did look almost genuinely confused when he’d snuffed out the plan so quickly. But those wide, glassy eyes you looked at him with — he doesn’t know if a person can fake that sort of heartbreak. That looked real.
Eddie had been close to commending himself for not letting Robin win. He thought he was a genius for not allowing Buckley to use you against him. Now he knows he’s the same dumbass he's always been.
“Hey, man…” Gareth wavers as he sits at his designated seat adjacent to Eddie’s. The boy’s forlorn and faraway gaze doesn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the club. They all share looks of confusion, but the sandy-haired boy is the only one brave enough to speak up. “You okay?”
Eddie keeps his gaze trained on your figure as you maneuver through the crowd. Robin looks happy for you when you reach her, but the puppy-like excitement washes away when she notices how sad you are. 
He feels like someone’s shoved a knife between his ribcage. He wonders if this is what a broken heart feels like.
“I think I screwed up,” he answers, laughing cynically at himself. “Like, big time.”
“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time, right?” Dustin jokes before popping a fry into his mouth. He laughs, but no one else joins him. “…Right?”
Eddie glares at the boy.
He cowers. “…Kidding. I was kidding.”
—————
He stews over it all day — your offer and what he said to you and how sad you looked after he said it. 
He pictures your pinched brows and big, glassy eyes and his chest starts to burn a little. Everyone always thought he was some raging asshole just because he had crazy hair and a crazier taste in music. Now he feels like they were sort of right about him. 
Whatever chance he had with you has surely turned to dust by now. It wouldn’t surprise him after he shrugged you off like he did. But after waging a nearly four-hour war in his mind between lunch and dismissal, he knows he has to make sure. 
He has to know if he’s ruined things entirely or if there’s a glimmer of hope he can hang onto.
He comes to you at the end of the day, dripping in metaphorical blood from the mental carnage he’d endured. He stood across the hall from you for five whole minutes as he tried to come up with something to say. He walks to your locker empty-handed and just blurts, “I thought you were joking,” like a total idiot.
Through the muddled conversation in the bustling hallway, you hadn’t heard him coming. You didn’t know he was there at all until he was right next to you. Seeing someone so suddenly close to you makes you flinch — hard.
And it’s not totally Eddie’s fault. You’re jumpy and too easily frightened at times, but he can’t help but feel like he’s messing things up more than he already has.
“Oh…” you deflate with a sigh, eyes still wide and swimming with something he can’t quite place. You look like you’re almost relieved to see him. Almost. 
“Sorry— shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to…” The boy stumbles over his words, then trails off when they don’t come out the way he wants. He shakes his head and finds it in himself to smile. It’s bitter, though, filled with self-abhorrence. “I wasn’t trying to scare you.”
With one hand still clutching the door of your locker, and the other gripping a stack of textbooks, you peer at him through your lashes. “I know. It’s okay. I just— I wasn’t expecting it…”
He grimaces. “Sorry…”
“’S okay,” you repeat.
“I, um, I only came in so hot ‘cause I wanted to apologize— you know, for earlier. In the lunch room,” he stammers and puts his fidgeting hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. He tries to laugh, but it comes out more as an insincere puff of air. “Honestly, I thought you were joking.”
Your brows pinch. “Joking? Why would I—”
“I sorta locked Robin and Vickie in the old chemistry room in the east wing a few days ago,” he confesses, bouncing his shoulders. “Just because I know they both like each other and everything, and I thought maybe they’d finally admit it if they were alone together.”
“Okay…?” 
“Well, they didn’t. And Robin was pissed. So I thought she was using you to get back at me.”
“Using me?” you echo.
“Yeah. ‘Cause I’ve kinda been into you since junior year and everything,” he admits with a nonchalant shrug. The corner of his rosy mouth quirks into a half-smile. “It’s, like, the one card Robin could use against me that would actually hurt, you know? If she did try to get me back.”
Your heart swells so much it hurts, almost — the same kind of hurt you'd felt in the lunch room earlier. It feels fiery, like someone’s taken a match to your ribcage and lit your heart aglow. But it’s different now. This is a good hurt, a happy hurt.
“Really?” you squint at him, your voice high and light. Your lips twitch like you want to smile, but you don’t let yourself — lest this all turns out to be some kind of elaborate dream. Or a joke.
“Since we had Mr. Kaminsky’s together, yeah,” Eddie affirms with a slow, confident nod. His chocolate eyes flit up to the water-stained ceiling. “Let’s see… We were learning about reproduction, and Tommy Hagan made some stupid joke about using you as a real-life model instead of the pictures in the textbook—”
“I remember,” you nod, trying not to shudder at the memory that still haunts you. 
“And I told him that he was making it real obvious that he’s never seen an actual vagina before and that the one in the textbook looked a lot like his mom’s,” the boy recalls with a soft laugh. “And you looked over at me, and you smiled, and I… have been a goner ever since.”
He looks down at you again, all sheepish like he isn’t gluing your broken heart back together again. His chocolate eyes twinkle in a way you’ve never seen before. They sparkle in their softness. You have to look away before it turns you into a puddle at his feet. 
You smile widely into your locker, pursing it off to the side in attempts to conceal its brightness. 
“No one’s ever stuck up for me like that before,” you confess quietly after a few moments, peeking at him from the corner of your eye. “I’m pretty sure I gushed to Robin about it for days.”
“Yeah?” Eddie hums. He can feel his hopes getting too high.
“Yeah. I told her all about the pretty boy in the back of the room that finally got Tommy H. to leave me alone.”
“Oh… You think he’s pretty, huh?” the boy teases despite his pink cheeks.
You nod — made much braver by his previous admission — though you still have a little trouble looking him in the eye. You drag a notebook from your locker as you tell him, “I think he’s very pretty.”
“Well, I have it on good authority that the boy you think is pretty is super sorry for being such an asshole to you earlier,” Eddie murmurs, his nose scrunched and head tilted. “And that he’d really love to go to that concert with you— if you haven’t found some other schmuck to go with you, that is.”
Your eyes light up like a Christmas tree as you beam at him. No one’s ever looked at him that way before now.
“I’d like that,” you nod, then shrug. “I don’t think I’d wanna go with anyone else, anyway…”
“So, it’s a date?” Eddie asks, just to make sure. His raised brows disappear behind his fluffy bangs. His chin tilts to his chest as he smiles hopefully down at you.
You nod, and repeat it more softly than the loudmouth boy. “It’s a date.”
Eddie can feel himself grinning like an idiot. His cheeks ache with how wide he’s beaming at you, but he's too lovesick to stop. Like squinting into the sun, smiling every time he looks at you is muscle memory by now. 
And what did a freak like him ever do to deserve a date with the freakin’ sun?
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Danny, at 17, did not have the best love life. This is partially because two of his must haves in a partner are " Will protect me with their life" and "Will commit unspeakable acts of violence for me" or at least beat someone up for his honor.
Naturally, this doesn't always result in the most stable of partners.
His first girlfriend, Valerie, became an anti-hero and broke up with him for his safety.
He finally got with Sam in sophomore year only for the feds to come into class one day to arrest her. To his surprise, her crimes had nothing to do with ghosts but rather an incident where she went too far and committed a few acts of economic terrorism. Danny and Tucker never really learned the specifics of the crimes, and her parents hushed up as many news outlets as they could, so there wasn't much info to go around. All they knew was that she saved thousands of lives by doing it.
In the end, she was sentenced to eight years, and she broke up with him so that he wouldn't wait around for her to get out.
His third partner was a guy named David who was really sweet. Unfortunately, Danny got kidnapped one day by David's arch nemesis, who was some villain with a corny edge lord name. Yeah. David had become a a super hero after they started dating.
And if you guessed that he freaked out and dumped Danny for his own protection, you'd deserve a cookie.
Danny was noticing a pattern here. One that continued with everyone he dated. They always became some kind of hero before dumping him for his own protection, and it was infuriating. Sure, danny could defend himself, but he was never deep enough into the relationship to reveal his phantom half, and frankly, his hero career was something he left behind when he left Amity and destroyed the portals.
He met Tim at a skatepark after Tim fell off his board cause of some jerk speeding out in front of him on his own board, forcing Tim to stop or else hit the guy. The guy was unrepentant and Tim calmed him down (this did not stop him from melting the guys wheels with an ectoblast when no one was looking).
Tim then asked him to coffee. Danny, noticing how cute Tim was, agreed.
Danny was up front with his parents being mad scientists in Illinois. He always was with all the people he dated. It was better not to hide these kinds of things or worse, wait until you're already attached and afraid of losing them. So he always told potential partners as early as possible. Tim seemed a bit put off by this but was calmer about it than most, and they continued chatting.
Tim didn't seem like the type to turn to heroism or anti heroism so he felt safe on their later dates. It was only after he had known Tim for a while that he put the pieces together.
Tim was always covered in bruises that he hid with his clothes and make up, he had complained about batman over the phone when he thought danny couldn't hear, he was rich, he knew how to fight as revealed by his stances and footwork dispite trying to pretend he didn't, and lastly he held a lot of political power and influence being Bruce Wayne's son. Power he had no reservations using when it suited him or he was just feeling petty (that pettiness was part of why danny was falling for him harder than he thought he could)
No wonder Tim was so okay with his parents being rouges.
Tim was a villain!
At least Tim wouldn't leave him like all his exes. Danny doesn't think he could handle it if he did. Another good thing about this is now he can talk more freely about the more villainous and morally gray ideas and inventions when he was alone with Tim.
Tim didn't see anything wrong with Danny's idea to use something similar to cloning pods to make synthetic meats like rump roasts and steaks as a way to end world hunger and was eager to add to the conversation.
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andersonlore · 5 months
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Abby and reader getting into an argument where they both know r is right but Abby is just being so goddamn stubborn ohmygod. So r just ups and flashes Abby with their tits to shut her up. Abby stutters and slowly loses her resolve until she finally shortcircuits
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❛ THE PRETTY GIRL BEHIND THE BAR. ❜
†⠀warnings y disclaimers — eighteen+, dom!reader, sub!abby, poc!friendly, jealous!abby, soft nsfw, stubborn!abby.
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Abby never should have been flirting with the bartender. She knows it just as well as you do. You had every right to be upset. Abby was your girl, not anyone else's, and she just let it happen. Right in front of you.
It made you sick and God, her dismal of it was even more infuriating. Her stubbornness shining through as you tried to make her see where you were coming from, but it seemed the attention was going right to her head.
"So, what if she was flirting? Why does it matter?" Abby was trying to worm her way out, but you wouldn't let her. Not this time.
"It's one thing to entertain it Abby but c'mon, look with your eyes. You let her feel you up right in front of me. Do you seriously not see how disrespectful that is?”
"She was not all over me and she did not feel me up." Abby defended.
"Really? You're going to play dumb right now? That's the side you want to take. You've got to be kidding me." Clearly, you were frustrated but your words only angered Abby.
"You're calling me dumb right now? For the love of god, she didn't touch me."
"Maybe you didn't notice because you were too caught up in the pretty girl behind the bar but anyone with eyes could see she was all over you." You walked away from her as the two of you walked into your shared apartment as Abby slammed the door behind her.
"She kept touching your arm and you did nothing. She tugged at the end of your braid; you did nothing. Anderson, she was looking at you like you were a piece of meat and you just let her! It was like I was fucking invisible." You were beyond pissed and the smirk on her lips wasn't helping.
Abby was too damn confident for her own good, always putting her foot in her mouth before she even spoke.
"Anderson? Wow. You're really angry, baby." She took a step closer, but you took two steps back.
"Don't 'baby' me. Are you being serious right now?"
You couldn’t believe her. She had the nerve to stand there, beautiful as can be, with a smile you would kill for but right now? You wanted nothing more than to deck her in the face. Abby always did this, and it pissed you off to no fucking end. Abby always had to let you know how wanted she is and how lucky you were to have her. It truly was nauseating.
“Just admit it, Anderson. She fucking touched you and you let her.” You threw it back at her, tired of this back and forth.
“If you call me Anderson one more time, I swear to god.”
“You’ll what? Flirt with someone else in front of me?” You stepped forward, cocking your head to the side. “I have to say, the more you do it, it might just lose it’s impact.”
“Are you sure? You’re pretty wound up right now, baby. Just can’t stand when my attention is elsewhere, can you?” 
You wanted to scream at her, but you couldn’t. Even if the chances of those baby blues welling up into tears were slim, you couldn’t let your anger get the best of you. All of this was intentional. Her pressing, her flirting, her acting like she oblivious to it. Abby wanted a reaction out of you. Boy, was she getting one. Still, you didn’t want to do anything to upset her, even if it seemed she was trying to do the opposite for you.
If she wanted to play with fire, so be it. You’d just have to cool her off enough so you could have a conversation about this without her cocky persona jumping in at any given moment.
The smirk dropped from her Abby’s face as soon as her brain registered what you were doing. Carefully, nimble fingers were unbuttoning the vest top you had on. You’d worn it just for her too. Abby loves the way it makes your breasts look, cleavage busting at the top. It usually would make her insatiable, but no. Tonight, she decided to keep her attention elsewhere.
You would make her pay for it.
“What are you doing?” Her breath hitches, and you try to smirk but you’re failing just as she was before.
“What does it look like I’m doing?”
“W-We’re fighting now, right?” Abby was so unsure of herself. Part of her believed she was imagining this. You slowly taking off your top, and God you weren’t wearing a bra either.
You really were trying to kill her, Abby thought.
“Yep, you’re really pissing me off, Anderson.”
“T-them, uh, why- oh fuck.” Abby tried to speak but it trailed off to a curse as you tossed your top onto the back of couch and made your way right to her.
“Why don’t you tell me exactly why your attention was elsewhere?” Your perky tits on display for her was torture, because she knew if she tried to touch you, her hand would be smacked immediately.
“C’mon, don’t be shy Anderson. Tell how much of a crazy fucking girlfriend I am. Go on. Fucking speak.” You demanded from her, but the blonde still found herself tripping over her words, unable to complete one sentence.
“I-I, um, y-y-you know, fuck, what do you want me to say baby? Please, I’ll do anything. Jus’ want to make it up to you.” Her eyes maintain eye contact with flesh exposed for her enjoyment, or rather yours. You liked doing this to her. Flipping the dominate switch to submissive and watching her crumble.
Abby knew it would be more than worth it once you had the harness and strap on, fucking her so dumb. Her pussy fluttered at the thought of it. She wanted you to stretch her out – turn her into your little fuck toy. You liked it, loved it even. Tearing apart someone so strong, until she was putty in your hands and begging for it.
It’s what she deserved after pulling the little stunt today.
She needed to be put in her place and you were more than happy to oblige.
“For starters, stop looking at my tits and look in my eyes.” Abby obeyed you, anticipating your next move.
“Now, be a good girl. Go upstairs, strip for me. I want you naked on the bed, and Mommy will be up there to remind you exactly who you belong to.” You slapped her ass as she moved hastily up the steps leading into your bedroom.
Let’s just say, Abby was in the for a long night.
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yeonzzzn · 1 month
Note
hii I have an idea in mind ><
hee as your ex watching you ride his best friend jake
but instead of hee freaking out and being jealous, he will join them and ask y/n to show jake how good she can ride him
tysm !!
anon, I literally cannot thank you enough for blessing my askbox with this rq. I was drooling the entire time writing this.
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a good ride: heeseung / jaeyun
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pairing: hee x afab!reader x jake word count: 2.4k
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The last thing Heeseung expected to see when he returned back to the apartment was seeing you—his ex-girlfriend—riding Jake’s—his best friend—cock. 
Heeseung wasn’t even surprised in the slightest. He’s known Jake had the hots for you. He’s seen the way Jake would look at you when you were over like you were a piece of meat he wanted to get his mouth on badly. Has seen how Jake would check you out thinking nobody else had noticed it. 
Heeseung wasn’t even mad. Not at all. You and him have been broken up for a good three months now and Heeseung has accepted the end of the relationship. He figured Jake would snake his way to you somehow, wanting to have a taste of that sweet pussy of yours and even do it behind his back. Heeseung just didn’t think he’d catch you both in the act. 
Does he still love and care for you? Absolutely. Does he miss you? Of course. Does he wish nothing but the best for you even if that’s riding the fuck out of his best friend's dick? Also a yes. Would he do anything to fuck you again? Also a major yes. 
Which is why Heeseung kept quiet, watching carefully as you bounced on Jake’s cock, your head flung back as loud moans escaped your lips. Knuckles turning white from the grip you had on Jake’s shoulders. 
Jake was also completely fucked out. His eyes closed tightly with furrowed brows, panting and moaning like a bitch in heat with his hands attached to your waist. Your name spills from his lips following up with “Yeah, that’s it, baby,” and “Yessss, just like that, fuck.” 
Heeseung found this situation way too hot. Because like, is that how you looked when you rode him? Heeseung has only ever seen how you look when he was beneath you, never from the side like the angle of view he has right now. And boy was it a sight to see. 
Heeseung tried to keep quiet as he palmed his growing hard-clothed cock, steadying himself against the wall. He wanted to touch you, wanted Jake to watch him touch you. Show him how to touch you properly and in all the right places. Wanted Jake to see how you lose yourself on his cock. 
He pushed himself from the wall, his mind on autopilot as he now stood behind you, neither you nor Jake even realizing Heeseung was there. And neither of you didn’t until Heeseung’s hands cupped your breasts. 
You jolted to a stop, and leaned yourself back against Heeseung’s chest, already knowing it was his hands that were touching you, and on pure instinct you fell back onto him, letting out a gasped moan. 
It was Jake’s reaction to you no longer moving, seeing how his eyes widened out of fear that you realized what actually was happening, your body now tensed as you tried to push away from Heeseung. 
Oh god, what did you get yourself into? He was going to kill Jake and then you for this. You could tell Jake had the same thoughts. How could he not? He was railing his best friend's ex-girlfriend. You were supposed to be off limits, something Jake couldn’t have because of the bro code. Jake couldn’t help himself when it came to you, mostly after how upset you were after the breakup, he didn’t leave you alone and when the moment came for him to finally get his cock deep inside you, he took it. But at the cost of his best friend standing behind you now. 
“Why did you stop moving pretty?” Heeseung cooed into your ear, his fingers squeezing the plush of your breasts, “Go on, keep riding him.” 
You looked at Jake in confusion but continued to slowly move on him. This was the last thing you expected. 
Heeseung dipped his head to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses up the skin and to your jaw, “I’ve missed touching you baby,” he whispered, “And I love seeing the way you ride my best friend.” 
Jake’s hands on your waist squeezed tighter, something about the way Heeseung is just…letting this continue did something. You were clenching around his dick tighter, and the angle you sat on his lap now made him fuck so much deeper as you leaned into Heeseung’s touch. 
“Fuck fuck fuck,” Jake chanted, “Fuck she feels so good.” 
“Doesn’t she?” Heeseung snickered, tracing his tongue up the side of your face, “Cum on his cock, YN,” he kissed your brow before dropping one of your tits to connect that hand to your jaw and force you to look at him, “Make him cum too, then you’ll wrap yourself around me, understand?” 
Your head spun at the thought of getting to feel Heeseung deep inside you again. Jake might be big, but Heeseung was big. You ached for that stretch his cock will give you. 
You clenched around Jake tighter at the thought, bouncing faster on his dick. 
“Jake,” Heeseung said, leaning his face closer to you, his hot breath touching your lips, “Rub her clit,” 
Jake listened, releasing one hand from your waist and snaking it down to your clit, rubbing fast circles. 
You jolted your body upward, a wet moan escaping your lips only to be halfway muffled by Heeseung’s lips connecting to yours. His tongue shoved down your throat. 
Jake felt you clench around him,  causing him to throw his head back onto the couch, “she’s fixing to cum,” he moaned, “fuck she’s about to cum.” 
Heeseung pulled from your face, both your tongues still hung out your mouths, a string of salvia connecting your tongues together. Jake lost it at seeing that sight, seeing you so desperate to kiss his friend again, imagining you wanting to be that desperate over him instead. 
Heeseung ran his hand down to your heat and on top of Jake’s hand, helping him rub your clit faster, “Cum for us baby,” Heeseung whispered, “Show him how you can make a mess.” 
You leaned your head back onto Heeseung’s shoulder, keeping eye contact with Jake as he bucks his hips up into you, mouth gaped open and pants getting heavier. Jake loved how you stared at him, loved seeing how you bit your lip and whimpered as you came undone around his cock, keeping your eyes connected to him the entire time. 
Heeseung released his hand from Jake’s, the biggest smirk on his lips as his hands fly back to your tits, squeezing them and kissing your neck again, “Such a good girl baby, taking Jake’s cock so good.” 
“Fuck,” Jake moaned, his hands slipping to your hips and bucking faster, “M’cumming,” he pants more, dropping his head down, furrowing his brows, and squeezing his eyes shut, “Fuck I’m cumming.” 
Jake unloaded into you, pressing your hips down onto him, making sure every drop of his cum was shot deep inside you. 
“Good,” Heeseung cooed, “Make out with her while I undress myself.” 
Jake was confused as to why this was all even happening, but who was he to say no? He just fucked you in front of Heeseung, might as well keep going. 
Jake cups one hand to your neck and brings you to him, lips moving against yours, his aching cock getting hard again as you sit there and cock warm him. His hand at your hips slides to your thigh, squeezing the plush as you shove your tongue down his throat. 
“Fuck that’s so hot,” Heeseung groans, slipping his jacket off his body and tossing it to the floor, seeing how yours and Jake’s cum dripped out your cunt and pooled on Jake’s thighs and legs, “You both came so much.” 
Heeseung stripped himself of the rest of his clothes, sitting beside Jake, “Come here, baby.” 
You release your lips from Jake and look over at your ex-boyfriend, your body shaking as you shift yourself from Jake’s lap to Heeseung, loving how Heeseung’s cock was already twitching, so red and angry as it waits for you to suck it into your pussy. 
Heeseung places his hands on your hips softly, and tucked his bottom lip between his teeth, keeping his eyes locked with yours as you take his cock between your hands and lined himself up to your entrance, slowly sliding down onto him. 
You gasp at the stretch, your hands flying to Heeseung’s shoulders as he fills you completely. 
Heeseung furrowed his brows when his tip hits your cervix, fighting back the urge to close his eyes and release the loudest moan at feeling you wrapped around him, “Fuck, YN. Missed this cunt so fucking much.” 
“Missed this cock too,” you whisper, giving yourself time to adjust to his length and size. 
“Shit,” Jake hisses, taking his cock between his hands and pumping himself, your cum still covering his dick making it the perfect lube to help his hand slide up and down with ease. 
“Okay baby,” Heeseung said, “Show Jake just how good you ride my cock, ya?” 
You nodded, starting slow, letting your cunt shape itself perfectly to Heeseung’s size until you slid up and down his length with no problem then bounced on him. 
Jake was losing his mind, stroking his cock at the same speed you rode Heeseung. Jake knew the sexual chemistry between you and Heeseung would never be on the same level as you and him. Heeseung knew your body inside and out. Has had years to figure out how to work your body with his hands, mouth, cock, and the entirety of his body. Jake only had the few times he’s gotten to make out with you after the breakup and then today. But was Jake jealous to see you riding Heeseung? No, not one bit. All it did was give Jake silent pointers on how to fuck you better next time. 
Heeseung started moving his hips in sync with yours, his fingers digging into your hips, pants leaving his mouth and at a worse rate than what Jake was not even five minutes ago. 
Heeseung might have your body figured out, but he was such a sucker for your pussy. No other cunt will ever feel like yours or replace yours. He was weak for your fuckhole and probably always will be. 
“Fuck I’ve missed this pussy,” he groans, flinging his head back onto the couch, “Missed the way it feels wrapped around me, missed how fucking wet it gets, how it fits my cock so perfectly. Fuck. I’ve missed you. All of you.” 
Heeseung was so in love with you still, and the fact he was balls deep inside you after months of being away from you drove him to the edge. 
You were also still in love with him, losing yourself on his cock and bouncing faster and faster, wanting to feel him come undone beneath you. 
“Jake,” Heeseung hissed, trying to steady his breath but it came out shakey anyways, “Touch her, rub her clit again. I can’t cum before her, wanna feel her cum first. Fuck.” 
Jake stood quickly from the couch, pressing his chest to your back, cock twitching at the pressure of your skin against it. One hand wrapped around the front of your neck, pushing your head to his shoulder, while the other hand ran back to your clit, middle finger circling faster than he did earlier. 
You moaned out, one hand leaving Heeseung’s shoulder and finding its place on Jake’s hand around your neck. He wasn’t choking you, but the pressure there was driving you crazy. 
The feelings you have for both these men were driving you up a wall. And here you were, having the greatest threesome sex with them. 
Your skin felt hot at their touches, breathing became uneven. You tilted your head up to Jake’s, taking his lips back to yours, kissing him so desperately as if you needed to steal the oxygen from him. 
“Faster,” Heeseung groaned, feeling his climax reaching faster than he wanted it to, “Touch her faster.” 
“Fuck,” Jake moaned against your lips, working his finger on your clit faster, your mouth parting and hand gripping his wrist harder, “Fuck look at you, coming so undone by us,” Jake kisses you harder, “You’re so fucking sexy. Being so good at taking our cocks and fingers.” Jake started rubbing his cock against your back, knowing he was close to his second orgasm. 
You clenched around Heeseung’s cock, “I’m cumming,” you moaned into Jake’s mouth, “I’m cumming.”
“Yesssss,” Heeseung hisses, fucking into you faster until he felt your cum wrap around him and seep out your hole and onto his thighs, “Gonna fill this pretty cunt to the brim, gonna show you just how much I’ve missed you.” 
Heeseung fucked into you harder, being nearly seconds away from spilling his seed. Jake was now moaning into your mouth, the friction of your body moving from Heeseung fucking you and him bucking his hips against your back had him shooting his hot cum up your back, curses falling out of Jake’s lips as he drops his head down to your shoulder, biting hard on the skin from the high of his second time cumming. 
Your help from Jake’s bite sent Heeseung over, his cum painting your gummy walls white as if you were the canvas and he was the painter. 
The perfect painting that belonged in a museum. 
Heeseung slumped his body back onto the couch, the grip on your hips softening as his thumbs now do figure eights against the skin, “I love you,” he finally admits, “I still love you.” 
Before you tell him you still love him, Heeseung pulls you closer to his body, with no inch left of space, and falls to his side on the couch, grabbing Jake’s arm to force him to lay behind you, filling up every inch of the couch. 
“We’re dating again,” Heeseung growled, taking your chin between his fingers, “And you’re going to date Jake too.” 
Jake widened his eyes, staring at his best friend as if this was even remotely okay, “We are sharing?” 
Heeseung chuckles, giving a nod, “You already fucked her, I want to keep fucking her. We might as well share.” 
Jake just smiles, his lips connecting back to your shoulder as his index finger traces up and down your side, “I’m fine with that.” 
You felt dizzy as you were sandwiched between your boyfriends, feeling as if you were on cloud 9. 
Heeseung shifted, his cock still inside you twitching, “Jake, ready to ruin her again?” 
Your eyes widened, fixing to protest but feeling Jake’s fingers sliding into your mouth, shutting you up. His cock against your back hardened, “Fuck I want to keep ruining her.” 
This was your life now, but you couldn’t complain. Not when they both bent you over in multiple different positions and gave you praises. 
You could get used to this.
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pandoraslxna · 8 months
Note
hello! i’m literally terrible at requesting things lol, but i thought i would ask if you would be doing another part to Stepbrother AU? i absolutely love the way you write neteyam. maybe some sweet and soft smut?
Sweet dreams
adult stepbro Neteyam x female omatikaya reader
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Words: 2.5k
Summary: It’s date night, the marui is quiet and Neteyam has you all to himself.
Warnings: explicit smut, stepcest (= they’re not related by blood), fluff, praise kink, p in v, soft sex, semi-public, biting
Notes: adult Neteyam art was made by @cinetrix 🩵
Translation:
syulang = flower
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It’s date night.
Date night means, his parents will be away for the night. And that means, all responsibilities fall to him.
So Neteyam makes sure everyone’s fed, goes to hunt, skins the yerik with Lo‘ak and let’s Kiri help prepare the meat, while you’re out to give Tuk a much needed bath after playing in the dirt all day.
They all eat together, while mum and dad are out somewhere flying on their ikrans or swimming in a river, spending some much needed time away from their kids, even though half of them are grown already and can take care of themselves. These days, date night is more than a ritual that they decided to keep from the early years of their mating, than a day spent away from the rest of the family. The kids aren’t really kids anymore, they don’t fight like they used to, they don’t ask too many questions that make Jakes hairline thin out and they don’t stick to Neytiri like leeches anymore.
Except for little Tuk of course, because Tuk will most likely forever keep the status of the Sully’s baby, probably even when she has kids on her own.
Lo‘ak has grown too, but he’s still Lo‘ak. Has always been him and will never change the way he is. Unless Tsireya comes over– great mother help him, suddenly he’s someone Neteyam has never seen before and it makes him physically cringe. But who is he to judge and apparently the chiefs daughter seems to be into that 'oh my voice is naturally low and raspy and I definitely don’t deepen it just to impress you' type of thing.
Kiri is, well, she’s never been one to talk much, but since she’s reached the end of her what dad calls puberty and mother calls "a test to her mental strength" her head seems to be even more up in the clouds than it was before.
Neteyam himself has long reached that age where he would like to experience these domestic moments with his own little family, living in his own marui. But he can’t seem to peel himself away from here, from home. Not when everything he yearns for is right here.
Which brings us to you.
His pretty little syulang, the flower of his life, that grew roots so deep in his heart that they took up all the space and left no room for anything or anyone else, since the day his parents had decided to take you in.
Admittedly, it took Neteyam longer than he thought it would, to realize that the way he looked at you was different from the way he looked at his other siblings. He’s always been protective by nature, takes care of those who are dear to him. But not once had he felt the same kind of jealousy when Spider or Rotxo or whoever talked to his sister Kiri, than when boys came to talk to you. When it came to you, things were different.
Neteyam himself had started fooling around with girls his age relatively young. Kissing and touching, before he turned eighteen and realized how easy it is to get them on their hands and knees just for being the next olo’eyktan.
But when you came along, things took a sharp turn. Suddenly, those girls made him feel icky. Suddenly, he had never wanted to touch anybody as much as he wanted to touch you. But he knew that such a thing was out of the question, though, so he never tried to act upon his forbidden desires.
It was you, surprisingly, who came to him first. Crossing all lines of what Neteyam thought was considered right or wrong, just for you to confess a love that goes beyond what step siblings should feel for each other.
Anyways.
Date night means, all responsibilities fall to him. And while it’s usually dad that has trouble sleeping, that stays up until eywa know when, sitting in the space that’s reserved for crafting and such things to clean his assault rifle, it’s Neteyam who sits in this place tonight. Like being away for a night ultimately means that not being able to sleep is now his burden too.
Neteyam doesn’t know the reason to his. His stomach is full and he’s happy and content, should probably sleep like a baby. But he just can’t bring himself to rest.
He hears Lo’aks snoring pick up in the other room, and it makes him chuckle lightheartedly. He‘ll keep Tsireya in his prayers, once the two of them have finally mated and will share their own marui. Eywa help her find some sleep, once this snoring palulukan lays under her roof.
Neteyam smiles to himself. His fingers slowly grow tired as they move a woven thread back and forth, then through a pearl, tying a knot and repeat. At least some part of him feels the need to rest.
While his parents date night generally means that there will be more duties than usual in his daily routine, it also means that there is no one up in the middle of the night or in the early morning hours, giving him time and peace to be lost in his thoughts. And those thoughts roam around a certain someone, more than usual even.
Because date night also means, spending time with his precious syulang is now less risky than it is on any other day or any other night.
Quietly, Neteyam tips his head back to glance into the other room. He can vaguely make out your sleeping silhouette in the dark, laying in your hammock. Like a magnet to metal, he feels himself drawn to you, so he allows his body to move without his brain having much say in this.
Everyone‘s asleep and his parents aren’t there and it just feels good to act upon his desires without double questioning everything, wondering what fleeting touches he could allow himself without being looked at weird or having to find excuses to go to the forest together for at least some alone time.
The hammock dips, and then a warm body settles to lay behind you, curling around your smaller frame like you’re two fitting pieces of the same puzzle.
A soft sigh leaves your parted lips and Neteyam can’t help but press a kiss to the nape of your neck. His breath tickles your skin, and then you stir awake with a yawn.
"Teyam?", you murmur sleepily, glancing over your shoulder to be met with two half lidded, golden orbs staring back at you.
"M‘sorry, syulang", he whispers against the shell of your ear before pressing another kiss to your cheek. "Didn’t mean to wake you."
You mumble something incoherent that he can’t quite pick up, but then you’re stretching and your tail instinctively curls around his, and Neteyam knows you probably didn’t mean to– but your back arches into him, ass pressing against his crotch, and suddenly you’re not the one only stirring awake.
"Hmm, but since you’re already up, we could…", the words are muffled into the crook of your neck, followed by more, open mouthed kisses against your skin.
"Teyam", you giggle quietly, squirming when he nips at the lobe of your ear, "stop it."
Instead of listening, his arms close tighter around your middle, pulling your back closer to his chest. His hands skim over the bare skin of your stomach, over your thighs, your waist.
"You’re so warm", he mumbles, with both of his hands now sandwiched between your soft thighs. It makes you dizzy, the way he presses himself against you, how his hands can’t seem to stay still for even a second, roaming your body to caress and squeeze and grab whatever they can reach. Your breath hitches in your throat once you feel his fingertips brush the outline of your loincloth, following the cords between your thighs, hands cupping your cunt.
"T-The others", you finally find your voice again. Swallowing thickly, you whisper, "Lo’ak and Kiri, they will–"
But Neteyam is quick to cut you off, "The others are sleeping…" Another open mouthed kiss to your throat, tongue licking along your pulse point. "And I missed you. A lot."
It doesn’t seem like he was leaving you much room to argue, especially not, because his hands then dip past the waistband of your loincloth.
"I was with you the whole day", a smile pulls at your lips, eyes fluttering closed as you let yourself enjoy the feeling of his teasing fingers.
"Hmh, and I still missed my baby sister", he hums, "Missed kissing you… touching you…"
A gasp tumbles from your parted lips when one of his digits slides into you with ease, curling up where he knows it feels best for you.
"Always so wet for me", Neteyam whispers, "My perfect girl."
His breath is hot and damp against the skin of your neck, and he nudges his now fully hard cock against the small of your back and waits for the sign that tells him you feel the same want he does.
Neteyam can’t help but nuzzle up against the crook of your neck again, trace the edge of your ear with nose and lips, because he can never get enough of the way that sends a shiver through your body. Through his own body too, and then he presses the smallest, quietest kisses to your ear until you shivers again.
Neteyam is so close to you, that he can sense and know he caused the tremble in your limbs and breath.
Those small, trembling movements are what does it for him, the way you nudge your sleep-warm body against him, the arch of your back against his chest and crotch, the scrabble of delicate fingers as they fumble against his arm, looking for purchase, the brush of your soft hair against his cheek and the taste of your skin at the flick of his tongue against your throat, neck and shoulder.
"Teyaaam", you whine quietly, two of his slick fingers now scissoring you open and you writhe and squirm, pushing back harder against his cock in need.
This time, the shiver runs through him first and you gasp once, the sound quiet and sharp.
Neteyam knows that sound. Knows that means he could fit your bodies together even better, press himself inside you now. So naturally, that’s what he does.
It’s a clumsy mess of tangled limps, soft giggles and fleeting kisses before he manages to wriggle you and then himself free from any clothes. He keeps you flush against him, back pressed against his chest, angles your leg up and holds you open with a hand to the backside of your knee.
Neteyam slides into you easily. The stretch is familiar, good and pleasant, and you moan once he’s filled you entirely.
"Shh, I know", he coos softly, "but you have to be quiet for me, yes? Don’t want to wake the others, don’t you?"
You nod, then his hips move almost on instinct, back and then pushing forwards, thrusting into you. It’s slow and languid, with muffled groans pressed against your skin.
Neteyam wants it to last. Wants to stay like this forever, soft touches and warmth and the fond familiarity of your skin under his fingertips. But he can't resist that voice. Can't resist that desperate, pleading tone.
"P-Please Neteyam", you whimper softly, pushing back against him, "more, please. More, I want to come!"
He pushes forward, just that little bit harder, then shifts to clamp a hand over your mouth, shushing you when you’re unable to contain those little noises of pleasure.
"You feel so good, syulang, so good."
The slow drag of his shaft against your warm, wet and velvety-like walls makes Neteyams tail curl in enjoyment, and his eyes flutter close as he lets himself drown in the feeling of you. His teeth are clenched shut, biting down on his lower lip, because he was just as close to moaning out loud as you were.
But then you’re clamping down, hard, when his tip nudges against that special spot inside you and– just a little faster, his thrusts become just a tad harder, deeper.
There’s drool covering the inside of his hand, where he’s trying to keep your mouth shut, tongue lapping at his palm so he switches position, sticks two of his fingers into your mouth instead for you to suck on.
You’re so wet around him, wet around his fingers too now, sucking as eager as you would on his cock and the low groan that bubbles up his throat is almost too loud. Almost.
But Neteyam catches his breath quickly, busying his mouth with your throat instead, sucking and kissing and biting, never hard enough to leave any marks, but enough to keep himself from making too much noise.
Meanwhile your tongue swirls around his digits and he pushes them further in whenever he slides his cock out of you, then out when he thrusts forwards. It’s a constant rhythm, leaving you moaning around his fingers and squeezing around his cock.
Slow and steady, he repeats the words like a mantra, trying to calm himself. But his thrusts become deeper, harder as well. They knock the breath out of your lungs, little whimpers reaching his ears, until Neteyam has to cover you mouth again with a warning grunt.
All it would take was for Lo‘ak to wake and get water, and then he would hear the obvious, he would hear the faint squelching noises coming from the other room, would hear your little whimpers and pleas.
Neteyam wanted this to last, he really did. But the thrill of getting caught was a dangerous mix to the absolute heavenly feeling of your pussy convulsing around his length as you came. The soft squeak that you gave, the way that your legs trembled and your eyes rolled back, it was all that was needed to push him over the edge.
"Fuck, fuck, syulang, baby. I‘m– I‘m gonna come", he forces out, as quietly as possible. The hand over your mouth clamped down harder, like a warning before he started to thrust into you faster, barely able to contain himself anymore.
Just a few especially deep strokes were needed, and Neteyam felt his body and every last nerve in it fill with pleasure, before he came with a grunt, biting his tongue and pressing his face into the crook of your neck.
Taking his time, Neteyam lets his body come down slowly. He’s still pressing himself into you gently, continues to move a little, thrusting, and enjoys the slippery sensations this engenders. Traces kisses over your skin and tastes salt and sweetness on his tongue while he listens to the way your breathing slowly evens out.
A tender, "I love you", is whispered against the shell of your ear. Your response comes a little slurred, voice laced with sleep and barely incoherent, but it doesn’t really matter to him. There’s a smile on your lips as you fall back asleep, satisfied and content.
And finally, sleep tugs on his tired eyelids.
Neteyam suspects, as he drifts of to sleep, that in an hour or so, for the second time that day, he'll be the first to wake. He’ll have to get up and move to his own hammock, fall back asleep there, or not. And he’ll miss you again, from afar. Until date night comes around again.
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eddywoww · 5 months
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I know literally all soulmate mark fics have been done (tw: scarification and abuse)
But I’m imagining one where Steve has a mark and it’s fucking huge on his forearm. It says “Are you okay?” And his mom absolutely hates it. She glares at it when it pops up when he’s only eight years old and she won’t stop talking about it, won’t let it go.
She wants it gone.
So she pays to have it lazered off. Steve hates the process, cries before and during and after because he’s only a little boy and it hurts so badly.
But it doesn’t work. The phrase only pops up somewhere new. On his ankle. It’s a little smaller but it’s the same phrase. He tries to hide it this time but it’s no use, his mom spots it at a clothes fitting. Being rich meant that he had little to no privacy growing up.
She takes him to a different place this time and the process is even worse and Steve wishes they’d get better at it. Soulmarks aren’t like tattoos. The process is much more painful even than that. And poor Steve doesn’t get why he can’t have it, why his mom doesn’t want him to have it.
He would figure out later that she only wanted to control everything aspect of his life. The next time it pops up, she gets more egregious. Wants it to be cut out of his skin. Steve sobs the night before, knows it’ll scar so much worse on the meat of his bicep. He hates it, hates that she won’t let him have this and he just doesn’t understand. He keeps hoping it’ll show up somewhere she won’t find it.
After many failed tries, it finally does.
Steve almost doesn’t believe it when he finds the phrase, as tiny as possible, on the sole of his foot. He hides it. He wears socks, he tries his best to make sure his mom never sees it. He spends his teenage years trying harder and harder to get away from her. Stealing and saving money, making sure she can’t keep him locked away anymore.
Steve runs away eventually. Ends up going to college and buying goodwill furniture and getting a part time job and-
But it’s rough because he’s always been sort of shut in. A pretty ornament for his mom to show off at parties and galas. He didn’t spend much time around other kids. So school makes him nervous. Anxious to a startling degree.
It happens on a normal Tuesday. He’s in the campus lunchroom, a tray in hand. It’s shaking, his drink nearly spilling as he tries to make his way through the moving mass of students. It’s too much, all his senses firing at one hundred or more.
And then it happens. He almost drops the tray as someone bumps into him, only to grab Steve by the elbows, turning big brown eyes and curly hair toward him. A boy. A very attractive, apologetic looking boy.
Steve was mesmerized before he even opened his mouth.
“Are you okay?” The boy asks in shock. “I didn’t mean to almost knock you down, man. That’s my bad.”
Steve stares at him like he’s just seen the sun for the first time.
“I like your hair,” He says, because he can’t think of anything else to say and he really does.
Eddie Munson nearly drops him a second time. Just behind his ear, he too wears a phrase. Unscarred and unmarked. He has no problem showing it to Steve right there in their busy campus lunchroom.
“I like your hair.”
Eddie might be without Steve’s scars but he has some of his own. A life well lived, not very far from Steve. They don’t lament over lost time. After all, it was meant to be.
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bountydroid · 6 days
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Jealousy
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Request: Can I please request a Cooper x Fem reader comfort angst romance where the sweet reader is infatuated with Cooper (she has a thing for older men)The sweet reader is always doing unnecessary favors for him, like secretly giving him discounts on rad away and supplies, taking care of dog meat, and getting him information on bounties. Until he brings along Lucy, misunderstanding the whole situation, the reader’s heart breaks thinking the worst and slowly stops trying and acting cold and distant, making Cooper notice that the only tolerable person he has ever known in this god forsaken world is ignoring him. (Feel free to add or change anything just pls feed into my delusions😭 I just want some hardcore romance with our cowboy) Also can u pls add that the reader also has a cute southern accent?
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader
Description: As a wandering trader, you've made a lot of strange friends. Among them, Ghouls, but there is one in particular that is your favorite.
Notes: I hope I did this justice for you anon!
The Wasteland was brutal, and even you knew it was a bad idea to trek it alone, but you had a job to do. However, as you found yourself in front of your old friend Roger's home you felt like the Wastelands weren't all that bad.
"My name.. is Roger." You heard him repeating between snarls.
You stopped in your tracks outside the door. "He's turning," You thought to yourself as you rummaged through your pack looking for any vials of Radaway. You were all out. Sighing, you put your hand on your holster before slowly making your way inside to check on your friend.
"Rog?" You ask as you round the corner to find him sitting in the dirt.
"Oh hey," he said relieved. "My savior. Do you have any Radaway?"
"I don't have any, Rog." You replied sadly.
"Oh." He whispered. "You should probably get out of here then. It's not safe for little girls like you to be in the Wastelands alone." He said sadly, leaving out the bit you both knew, you weren't safe with HIM alone. 
Before you could respond, you heard quiet footsteps down the corridor. "Who else is here?" You thought to yourself as your hand went back to your holster. Peaking your head around the corner you find none other than Cooper Howard and... a vaultie? You did very little to hide the confusion on your face as you looked between the two.
"Hey, you." You said to Cooper. "What are you doing here?"
"Could ask you the same thing, sweetheart." He responds, pushing the vaultie through the doorway and making his way to Roger.
"Hey Rog," Cooper greets him.
"Hey. Hey." Rogers laughs, relieved to see his friend. "Fancy seeing you here. You out for that bounty, too, huh?"
"Yep," Cooper responds as he knelt in front of his friend.
You all stand there in silence for a bit, listening to Roger snarl and whip his head around. 
"Oh, shit," Roger says between wails.
"How you feeling?" Cooper asks quietly, already knowing the answer.
"Oh.. you know," Roger replied. "It's hard out here. Dang smoothies can be so unkind. I see you got a smoothie of your own." He says as he looks over at the vaultie.
You also turn to look at the vaultie, a look of displeasure on your face. "A smoothie of your own." Repeating over and over in your head. You wanted to be his smoothie. You and Cooper never really started a relationship, but you thought you were heading in that direction. You gave him a generous discount on Radaway since you developed a little crush on him, and he would always spend more time than necessary with you whenever you crossed paths. He was always fussing after you and was always telling you how you were too reckless. In his eyes, everything was too dangerous for you. He knew how you felt about him, and you THOUGHT you knew how he felt about you, but this vaultie threw a wrench in everything. "Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he doesn't like me." You thought to yourself while eyeing her up. You were so lost in thought that you could barely hear Roger snarling next to you. 
"You're turning," Cooper says reluctantly, his voice pulling you from your thoughts.
"Yeah maybe, maybe." Roger says on the verge of tears, "Maybe. Hey, you don't happen to have any vials, do you? Y/n is all out."
Cooper's eyes met yours as you nodded your head sadly.
"Just one little puff and I'll be back on my feet. You know I'm good for it." Roger pleaded.
"I'm sorry Roger I am all out," Cooper says, looking back toward his friend.
"That's okay. That's okay." Roger mumbles. "Though, um, you and y/n and your smooth-faced friend, you um... you might want to clear out before things get ugly."
You flinch as you hear Roger snarl again, each time he was getting louder and louder. You look down at your feet with tears in your eyes.
"I did okay. 28 years since I first started showing," Roger said looking between you and Cooper, before snarling again. "Oh, hell! Not as long as you though." He pointed proudly at Cooper, "You've outlasted us all. How long since you first started Wastelanding?"
"A long time," Cooper responds while shaking his head.
"That's a lot of vials," Roger said quietly.
"Well I've always been good at making money, Roger." Cooper exhales as he stands up. "Say, you remember how good food used to taste?"
"Yeah, BlamCo Mac and Cheese!" Roger says excitedly.
"Ice Cream and Apple Pie." Cooper countered.
Roger laughed, a real laugh. He was happy. "Apple Pie is not nearly as sweet as young Y/n's southern accent though." He says smiling up at you. "You know, my mom used to -"
Before you knew what happened, Roger's brains were all over the wall. You looked up at Cooper with tears in your eyes. You knew it had to be done. You knew it was mercy, but it still hurt. 
"Why did you do that?" The vaultie asked. "He was sick."
"He wasn't gonna get better." You responded dryly.
"You usually don't go all the way out here sweetheart, not on your own. What are you up to?" Cooper asks you as he picks up Roger's body and places it in a position where he easily access what he needs.
You don't respond. Between the jealousy brewing in your stomach at the vaultie next to you and the sadness about Roger, you couldn't find the words you wanted to say. 
"Stop. Stop Stop." The vaultie pleaded, "Please, I know it's hard out here but you don't, you don't have, you don't have to resort to... to..."
Before he could respond you quickly made your way out of the building for some fresh air. You could hear their voices inside, but you decided to drown them out by humming to yourself. You didn't need to see him take apart Roger, and you definitely couldn't stand the sound of her voice any longer. You knew you should get walking, you were low on supplies and they would be leaving the building soon. You didn't want to face them again, but it felt like there were bricks in your boots. As exhaustion hit you, you sat down in the sand and closed your eyes, losing track of time.
"Hey," You hear Cooper say as he puts his hand on your shoulder. "You good, sweetheart?"
'Fine." You mumbled out. "You and your smoothie should get going." The venom in your voice was loud and clear, but you didn't care.
"That's what got ya panties in a bunch?" Cooper laughed. 
You glared up at him in response. "Don't laugh at me, Cooper."
"I am taking her to SuperDuperMart. Not keepin’ her as a pet.” Cooper smiles as he offers you his hand. 
"Oh," You responded quietly, feeling stupid.
"What is SuperDuperMart?" You heard the vaultie ask, but the two of you completely ignored her.
"No one could ever replace you, sweetheart," Cooper says as he cups your face. 
You couldn't help the smile that graced your face at his words, and the blush that creeped up your neck.
He smiled when he noticed the way your eyes flickered towards his lips. 
"When I get my hands on some Radaway, I'll show you just how much you mean to me." You whispered.
"Lookin' forward to it." He whispered back.
The two of you were so caught up in each other that you didn't even notice the look of pure disgust on the vaultie's face as she watched your interaction. Some people may never understand why you like Cooper so much, but honestly? You couldn't give a damn.
Tag list: @sitkafay
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spdrwdw · 2 months
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hi! I saw ur post abt accidentally deleting reqs and was scared since mine wasn’t answered yet (im not complaining bc ur other work is so so delicious to read 😍) anyways here it is. Ok imagine Miguel ohara being the heir to the mafia ‘throne(?)’ ima be so fr idk what they call it 💀 anyways and he’s in an arranged marriage w/ a girl from a diff mafia family as a way to make peace between the two families, except neither he or the girl are happy abt it. Enemies to lovers would just be majestic for the plot in my opinion 🤭. Anywaysssss thank u sm and remember to drink water 🫶🏻
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Art by: Kimmy_art0912 Pairing: Mob Boss Miguel x Wife reader Warnings: Mentions of blood, very mild violence, no use of y/n Summary: You and Miguel come from different mafia families, forced to be married in order to form an alliance as threat from an outside. However, you and Miguel can only tolerate each other, at best. A/N: I swear I scratched and rewrote this like five different times.I am sorry it took so long. I am slowly making my way back into writing. I do thank anon and everyone else for their patience as I slowly make my way back to life and I will be writing more Miguel fics soon. I may do a part two to this, depending on interest recieved. I have been getting into mafia books so I am going to be looking into those for inspo if I do make more parts to this. Also, very very light editing was done. Word Count: 4.6k
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Your family and the O’Hara’s have been enemies since your ancestors set foot into this country. Both immigrating from nothing but the clothes on their backs and pennies to their name. 
Your family started working in the food industry. Working in restaurants, bakeries, etc. Anything that had to do with food. Seven days a week. Working from twelve to fourteen hour shifts just to make ends meet. Your great great grandfather worked at the local deli as well as a restaurant. When he wasn’t cutting up meat, he was in the kitchen making food. Your great great grandmother worked at the neighborhood bakery as well as the tailors. Her dream was to make clothes- dresses. She wanted to be a fashion designer. She started taking classes at the local college once they saved up enough money to invest in her studies. 
Eventually, with their hard work and sacrifices, their dreams came true. Your family soon owned several restaurants as well as luxury boutiques. Everyone did their part in keeping the family businesses growing and going. 
At first, it was all simply honest work. Your family stayed humble and grateful for their dedication. Then, with your great grandfather, things took a slight turn. He wanted to expand and turn into construction. Nueva York continued to go and grow, with more people coming to try to make a living and a name for themselves. And in that mix, people with bad intentions also tagged along. The family businesses were in jeopardy of being taken over or shut down completely by these power-hungry thugs. He did not want that. So, he and the rest of the family banded together and began hiring people who would be willing to work for them and protect them, whether they were military vets, criminals, or even cops. Anyone who was willing to protect the family. 
Allyship with other mafia families also aided in the growth and protection. However, there was one family that yours always butted heads with. 
The O’Haras. They immigrated from Ireland around the same time your great great grandparents did. They built their own businesses, casinos, hotels, and clubs- and wanted their own power and a spot with the elites of the criminal world. 
At first, things were neutral between the two families. At one point, the two families were almost allies. However, one night, there was commotion going on at one of the O’Hara nightclubs. Members of your family got into a tussle with the O’Hara group and ended up being a blood bath, with both sides losing men. 
Ever since then, things were tense, and the bloodshed continued to grow as oppositions rose. 
No one really knew what it was that started the feud that night. Some suspected it had been over a woman. Others thought it was simply because some members were drunk and careless words were exchanged.
Either way, the rivalry continued on. Until a new threat entered the city. And there was no choice but to come together. 
It’s been six months since you moved into his house. Six months since you lost your freedom. Six months since you got married. To Miguel O’Hara. 
It all happened in an instant. First, you were out abroad, having recently gotten your first major job as a fashion designer in a luxury clothing company, wanting to be as successful as your great great grandmother, and now you were out on a little vacation to celebrate, when you received a call from your father, ordering you to come back home. 
You should’ve relished that Mediterranean breeze as long as you could, because once you got on that flight back home, your world was about to be flipped on its head. 
“I’m sorry…WHAT?!” You screeched at your father, you only looked at you with his calm, cool, distant, expression as he inhaled into his cigar.
“You’re getting married to Miguel O’Hara,” he repeated. 
“I heard what you said! But, why?!”
“The O’Haras had agreed to a truce. Kingpin is gaining on both of our families. We are losing men and traction left and right. We agreed by aligning our families together, we will gain strength in numbers and influence.”
“And you are shipping me off into an arranged marriage! This isn’t the medieval age or whatever! 
Plus, with Miguel?! At least have me marry Gabriel. He’s not an asshole like his brother.”
“Miguel is to become head of the O’Hara family as he is the first born. Plus, his determination has been promising.”
You let out a groan. You could not believe this was happening. You never wanted to get sucked into this life. That’s why you went off to college. To try to get away and make a life of your own. Your efforts were proven to be futile as you felt the rug be pulled from under you and you were being dragged along with it to the same life you were trying to escape. 
Your father’s eyes softened. A hint of sorrow filled them. 
“I know, sweetheart. This isn’t what I was hoping for you, either. But, it is the only way. We are running out of options. I am sure Miguel will take care of you, and you will be able to fulfill your dream of following your great great grandmother’s footsteps. I am sure she would be proud to have someone actively expanding her fashion legacy..”
You still shook your head. It was just too much for you to take in. Plus, wasn’t Miguel in a relationship with someone? Xina? No..they broke up months ago. That’s right. But, wait..he was seeing someone else? Ugh. The guy has a new girlfriend every other day.
Besides, you two did have a thing going on in the past. It wasn’t serious. Mainly the occasional hookups. You two were of rivaling families, after all. You both did have your reasons for disliking each other. So, the sex was pretty much hate sex? If that made sense. It wasn’t out of passion. Unless you could call hatred a passion.
Never did you think you’d actually be getting married to him. 
After the news broke out that you and Miguel were to be wedded, everything went by in such a blur. Preparations for the wedding. The actual wedding. The honeymoon- which was hardly a honeymoon because neither of you actually spent any time together. It was just too awkward, and you knew that he wasn’t happy with this arrangement as much as you were. 
When you first moved into his house, you wanted to sleep in a separate room from him, and he agreed. However, when both of your parents found out about this, they were all livid. 
“How will you two get to know each other more and become intimate with each other if you are sleeping in separate beds?” Your mom cried one day when she came to visit you. You assured her there would be other situations where you and your husband would bond. Public situations where you’d be surrounded by other people and talking to those people rather than each other. 
You two simply avoided each other as much as possible. And during the times when you two were together, your company was either met with silence or bickering. And sometimes even being at each other’s throats. 
He would call you names like ‘immature’ ‘wild’ ‘rowdy’ and so on, simply because you refused to listen to him whenever he demanded something from you. 
You’d retaliate and tell him that he was controlling and a perfectionist. Because well, he was. He had to have things done a certain way or it would ensue chaos. And while he was right about you being a little more rowdy and wild, it was simply because you had the luxury of growing somewhat more normal. Your parents did not drill the life of the mafia into your head the same way it was drilled into Miguel’s. Which is why you both clashed when trying to communicate with each other. 
Right now, you were at home in the library. You spend a lot of time there, and while Miguel’s taste in reading wasn’t usually to your taste, you’d sometimes find yourself reading some of the novels that he was currently reading, as well as reading some that you’ve been purchasing and adding to the collection. 
Which reminded you, you had to head over to the mall and purchase the next book of a spicy romance series you’d been reading. As well as look for an outfit to wear at the next charity event you and Miguel would be attending. 
One of the few things you liked about Miguel was that he was very generous and active in the community, helping those less fortunate.
Placing the book down, you rubbed your bag and keys and decided to head out for a bit. Saying goodbye to the house staff as you walked past them, you made your way to the garage, which housed Miguel’s collection of cars, ranging from vintage to sporty and modern to big black suvs that you’d use whenever a bodyguard was transporting you somewhere, like parties. You never understood why someone needed so many cars but, whatever, as long as it wasn’t your money being spent. 
You made your way over to your car, glad that you were able to bring it with you when you got married. It was your baby. One of the few things you were able to bring with you. 
Glancing over at the clock on the dashboard, you bit your bottom lip. You should have enough time to purchase some books before heading off to your parents for a bit. You did promise them you would show up. They were planning lunch for you. It was your birthday today, after all. 
Miguel stood in front of the battered man that kneeled before him, hearing the groaning of pain coming from their mouth as blood pooled around the cement floor. 
Miguel’s knuckles were bleeding. But, it wasn’t his own blood, but the blood of the poor bastard that withered before him. Miguel didn’t like to use violence. He thought it was a primitive way of negotiating with his enemies. However, there were times when a little violence was necessary to get his point across. And to send a message. 
Why was this man being battered like a sack of potatoes? 
The man spat blood, a tooth or two flying out with the glob of blood as he remained strapped to his chair. His face was covered in blood. Beat up and mangled by the hands of the tall, brooding man before him. 
Miguel slowly knelt down before the man, taking a fistful of his hair, forcing him to look up into his almost amber eyes. 
“ Eres un demonio! (You're a demon). Not even the devil himself will want you!” the man spat, a glob of blood landing on Miguel’s cheek.
Miguel let out a hum of disinterest. His eyes lacked any life in them. However, this was when he felt the most alive, seeing his enemies cowering and crumbling before him. 
He took out a handkerchief from his breast pocket and cleaned the blood from his cheek before tossing the now soiled material at the man’s feet. 
“I take that as a compliment, you know. Maybe I want the devil himself to fear me.”
Miguel took out a cigar from his coat pocket and lit it before giving it a deep inhale and exhaled a heavy cloud of smoke at the man’s face. He couldn't believe that one of Kingpin's goons had infiltrated his circle and posed himself as someone who could've been trusted. Miguel was definitely going to send that fat son of a bitch a message, by killing this guy and sending his corpse back to Kingpin's front door. 
Not only that, but it also meant that they were going to have to redo background checks on everyone working for the O’Haras. That was going to be a pain in the ass.
"Gabriel! Hand me my gun," Miguel called out to his brother.
Gabriel, Peter, and Ben were all standing several feet behind Miguel, all watching as their boss beat and battered the man before them. 
Gabriel was Miguel’s right hand now that their father had stepped down as head of the O’Hara family. Many thought Gabriel was going to take charge, however, Miguel was much more brutal and cut-throat than Gabriel. It made sense for Miguel to take up the mantle, despite him being an illegitimate son. 
Plus, Gabriel preferred being on the sidelines instead of making the decisions. 
Gabriel made his way over to his older brother, handing him the gun before stepping back to his original spot. 
“Now. We can do this the easy way. Where I ask you a couple of questions and answer them. Or, we can do this the hard way, when I ask you said questions and if you refuse to answer them, I get to shoot you anywhere I want.”
”I would rather you just shoot me! I will never answer to you!” The man croaked. 
“You never got shot before, have you?” Miguel hummed as he removed the safety from the gun and cocked it before pulling the trigger, shooting the man on the foot. 
The man let out a screeching howl as he thrashed on the chair, letting out a series of curses. 
Miguel simply nodded his head. “That’s what I thought. So..shall we begin?”
The whole ordeal took only a matter of minutes, as Miguel wasted no time in trying to get his questions answered. The man was not sitting lifeless on the chair as bullet holes decorated his body. 
Kingpin had sent a lower ranked grunt to spy on them, trying to scope up any valuable information to report back to his true boss. Unfortunately for Kingpin, those in the lower ranks didn’t really get to be part of the action and behind-closed door discussions, so, this man’s life was unnecessarily wasted. 
“Send his body back to Kingpin. Just leave him on his doorstep,” Miguel said as he examined his suit, letting out a grunt when he saw small splatters of blood. He was going to have to go home and change. “Will do. You should start heading back home. I am sure you wife is waiting for you,” Gabriel said as Peter and Ben began placing the body into a black body bag and carried him out to the waiting pick-up truck. 
Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t hate you, but he knew that you hated him. And you had every right. You got married to him out of force, and while that wasn’t necessarily his fault, he didn’t blame you for holding a grudge on him. 
“Keep me posted on any activity. I need updated background checks on everyone working for us. We can’t let anyone else slip through the cracks,” Miguel stated as he made his way over to his car, with his brother following behind him. Gabriel nodded his head as he watched his brother leave. 
He had to make sure no on in his inner circle was actually working for Kingpin. Is someone indeed was, might as well just shut everything down then and there. 
No. Miguel wouldn’t give up just like that. He would just have to work harder and steer Kingpin off track. 
But, for the time being, his main goal was to get back home and get to his wife. It was your birthday, after all.
You spent the majority of the day with your parents. You had gone over to your former home- which you still miss deeply. It was such a stark contrast from where you lived now. There was just so much character, so much history in this house. It was the same house your great great grandfather had bought as a gift to his lovely wife, your great great grandmother, once their businesses were booming.
It had twelve bedrooms and sixteen bathrooms. A library where your mother would take you to read. When you were young, you’d pick out a book for your mother to read to you in bed. Mainly a fairy tale story. 
You always thought your life would be a fairy tale. You always imagined yourself as the princess or heroine, going on adventures and falling in love. However, the universe was not like those in the stories. Maybe in an alternate universe. But, not in this one. 
Instead, you were forced to marry the enemy in hopes of forming an alliance. Which, depending on how you looked at it, could’ve been seen as a fairytale. It didn’t feel like it. You weren’t in love with Miguel. You tolerated each other at best. Plus, you guys had shared history which made things pretty awkward at times. 
—-
You were back home, waiting for your darling husband to come home and wish you a Happy Birthday. He also supposedly promised to take you out to dinner. It was really an attempt for you two to get somewhat closer together. But, you weren’t sure how well that would play out. You both liked to push each other’s buttons. You were sure it would occur tonight. And honestly, you wouldn’t want to have it any other way. You wanted to be a thorn on his side. He was always so full of himself. Always thought himself to be this bigshot. Untouchable. Unweavered. You loved proving him wrong. 
You continued to wait and wait. The house staff had left for the night, including Miss Cheryl, your personally favorite housekeeper. She was an older woman, possibly in her mid-fifties. You never cared to ask her- mainly because you didn’t want to be rude and you actually liked her. 
Looking up at the clock in Miguel’s office, you saw that it was already seven thirty in the evening. Reservations were supposedly made for eight. Miguel had thirty minutes to get there. 
A part of you didn’t really care if he had forgotten or just waved it off. You didn’t want to force yourself to be nice with him, because who knew, you might just throw a glass of wine at him just as you did during your wedding reception.
You could hear a chime coming from the Alexa that rested on Miguel’s desk, signaling that someone had entered the house. 
Finally. You honestly thought he wasn’t going to come. 
Raising from his chair, you decided to go ahead and greet your husband. 
He was making his way upstairs as you made your way down the hallway, both of you making eye contact. 
“You’re late. I thought you weren’t going to come,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. 
As Miguel stepped closer, you could notice blood splattered on his white shirt. 
“I know. Let me get changed real quick,” he replied as he walked past you. 
You knew Miguel had a way of dealing with those who wronged him. You have seen his blood-stained knuckles, bloodied shirts and a dangerous look in his eyes. It’s pretty much like in the movies. Some poor unlucky soul gets tortured to death by the boss or someone higher up. You’d like to think that Miguel isn’t simply killing people just because of blood-lust. While it wasn’t your business to judge, you didn’t want to be married to someone who is a little too eager to get blood on his hands. 
You made your way to his room, standing by the door as you watched Miguel slip on a fresh pair of pants and button-up shirt, something more suitable for dinner. Once he was finished, he took another look at you, furrowing his brows a bit. 
“What?” You questioned. 
“What are you wearing?” 
“What do you mean ‘what are you wearing’?” You asked, looking down at your dress. 
“Don’t you think that’s too revealing?” He asked. 
“What? Revealing? Where? Don’t tell me showing a little leg and shoulder is prohibited. Come on! This is the height of fashion right now, as well as demonstrating body positivity.” Miguel simply gave you a look as if in disgust. Not for the body positivity part. But rather your fashion choices. He was aware of your family’s success in the fashion industry. He even applauded it. But, he was also a  man with much simpler tastes. Tastes that you would sometimes groan over. 
“Well, I’m not changing, so let’s just get going,” you said as you grabbed a shawl to compliment your dress, and to shut Miguel up. 
The ride to the restaurant was quiet, save for the music that was playing on the radio. You two had very different music tastes. Not surprising. Sometimes you’d change the station or hook up your phone to Bluetooth. But, you tried to sit back and let him listen to his music this time. 
When you two managed to get there, Miguel stopped in front of the valet and got out. The valet driver in-waiting opened the car door for you to help you get out as Miguel rounded the car, handing the keys over to the young man who then took the sleek black suv to the parking garage. 
He gave you his arm to take. It had become routine. Show some sort of display of affection while in public. You never knew who could be watching. Sometimes cameras would pop out in front of you two. 
The proposal was rushed. The engagement. The wedding. People grew suspicious, and rightfully so. Your families quickly came up with a story of how you and Miguel were seeing each other in secret despite the rivalry of the families. The alleged secrecy of romance and hurried marriage gave you two the the title of Romeo and Juliet. Two star-crossed lovers who went against all odds just to be together despite your families and their differences. But, unlike the story, your ending didn’t result in a double-suicide, but rather acceptance, wedding bells, and peace between the two families. Everyone bought it. Well..almost everyone. 
As you two made your way inside and were greeted by the hostess, you were taken to a more secluded area of the restaurant. There, the table had been set up especially for you. A bottle of wine rested over a bed of ice, candles were lit on the table, as well as around the perimeter of your area. It would have been romantic, had you actually had romantic feelings for Miguel.
Still, he was a gentleman and he did go out of his way to reserve a nice place for you.
 He pulled a chair out for you to sit and scooted you in before taking his seat across from you. The music from a live pianist in the main dining hall still reached your private area. Had it not been for them, the room would’ve been dead silent as you and Miguel silently looked through your menus. 
“Can I pour you a glass of your wine?” A waitress asked onceshe approached your table. She was young. Tall and thin with big blue eyes and blonde hair tied up in a ponytail. And wearing way too much makeup. At least for your tastes. 
You could see how she was looking at Miguel, batting her fake eyelashes. You thought they were either going to fall off or send her flying away. Either way, you simply rolled your eyes. You didn’t care if Miguel got hit on, but come on, at least not while you were right there to see. 
“Yes, thank you,” Miguel said, giving her a charming smile. It made you roll our eyes again. Yes, he was being polite and all, but you could see right through him. 
“Can I offer you both an appetizer to start?” She then asked, still looking over at Miguel. 
Miguel then looked over to you, giving you a nod. “Would you like something to start with?”
”Yes, actually. Some bread for the table. they usually bring it out at the beginning,” you started. Which was true. You were just trying to be a little petty. 
“And how about some crab cakes and a salad for the table?”
The waitress nodded her head, her smile now a straight line. So straight, you could swipe your card through it like a card reader. 
“Yes, of course. I will put those in for you and bring you your bread,” she said before leaving the table. 
You simply rolled your eyes once again as you settled back against your seat. 
“How was lunch with your family?” Miguel then asked, trying to make conversation. 
“It was fine,” you responded. Usually, your responses would be short, and Miguel wouldn’t entertain the topic further. You knew you should at least try to get along with him, giving that you are married and that you will be spending the rest of your life with him. You simply assumed that it just hadn’t kicked in yet. You were going to try, though. 
One day.
“Ah, Mr. O’Hara! Mrs. O’Hara! A pleasure to see you two here tonight!” Someone behind you exclaimed. You could hear their heavy footsteps before turning around and seeing the owner and head chef of the restaurant. “Javier. A pleasure to see you,” Miguel said. “We were just celebrating my wife’s birthday.” “Ah! Of course! Happy birthday, Mrs. O’Hara. You look as stunning as ever,” Javier exclaimed. The man was five foot three, a mix of tan to sunburned skin, and all round. He kind of reminded you of the Pillsbury mascot. He looked so squishable and jolly. 
“Actually, Javier. Would you mind me having a word with you, real quick?” Miguel then asked, scooted his chair back from the table and stood, easily towering over the man. 
“O-oh! O-of cours! Of course! Come, come! Let’s step to the side,” Javier stated, now looking a little nervous as he led Miguel out of the room, leaving you alone. 
All while Miguel was having his private conversation with Javier, the waitress came back with the bread and appetizers. 
“We are going to need a couple of minutes,” you stated as she placed everything onto the tables. 
“Of course! I’ll make my way back around in a few minutes,” the waitress said, giving you a tight-lipped smile.  
You tried your best to not roll your eyes at her again as she left. Letting out a sigh, you decided to dig into the bread and appetizers. You sure weren’t going to wait for Miguel to come back to start eating. You never waited for him. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you knew you’d be waiting forever for him. 
Soon enough, you were back home. You were still slightly curious about the conversation Miguel had with Chef Javier. But, you didn’t think you should press Miguel about it. Some things were meant to be kept in private. Besides, you wanted no part of this whole mafia stuff. It had stolen so much of your freedom already. You wanted to remain ignorant of what goes on behind closed doors as much as possible. 
You both made your way upstairs, neither of you speaking as you made your way to your rooms for the night. 
Tomorrow you were planning on heading over to the boutique. Your cousin was currently operating it and sometimes you’d go to help her out. It helped you get out of the house every once in a while. Plus, you were usually filled with inspiration when you were surrounded by your family’s clothing. You were still working on your portfolio to give out to various companies, in hopes they would hire you. 
You were confident that they would. You were talented. Plus, you have your family’s name to back you up. Now, all you had to do was to make sure you get a good night’s rest so you could get up refreshed. 
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luvrgrlellie · 8 months
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casual dominance with ellie williams
i’ve seen posts like this before on here so credit to whoever started this trend!!
warnings: smuttish at the end
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a big yet subtle way that ellie is casually dominant with you is with how protective she is of you in public. for instance…
if you’re out at a packed bar together, you’re always positioned so that your back is against the bar and ellie’s is facing the crowd to protect you from drunk (& gropey) strangers. also always making sure that she doesn’t go too crazy with the alcohol or za and stays under control so that she’s sober enough to take care of you.
she’s always walking slightly behind you or by your side so that she can keep her eyes on you at all times
never EVER let’s her girl pump her own gas, buy her own weed, go get cash out at an ATM etc. anything that might put you in danger, she’d rather just do for you if she’s around. it’s not that she doesn’t allow you to do things on your own, but keeping you safe is her top priority and she doesn’t see it as a hassle at all to run some errands for you
in a crowd, your hand is in hers at all times, your other is preferably holding her bicep so that she can keep you close to her
hand on the small of your back is a signature ellie move. not over the top PDA but enough to signal to anyone watching not to fuck with you or they’ll have to get through her.
now this brings us into more possessiveness territory rather than protectiveness, which is another big part of ellie’s casual dominance over you
if she catches a guy staring at you for too long, she’s never afraid to meet his eye and hold uncomfortable eye contact until he looks away. she just hates the idea of men undressing you with their eyes - it drives her fucking crazy. the way they look at you like a piece of meat makes her have some very violent thoughts.
and if she catches anyone trying to make moves on her girl she’d simply wrap an arm around your waist and pull you into her chest so that your back is against her front. that way she can have her hands on you and keep an eye out while still letting you socialize and have fun
i feel like ellie is NOT the type to ever admit she’s jealous, but she definitely will be hella obvious about it through her actions
if you’re out and you’re having a conversation with someone she suspects wants you (which frankly is everyone to her because she doesn’t see how someone couldn’t be attracted to everything about you) she’d make a point to come over real quick and touch you in some small intimate way to make it clear you’re with her. she doesn’t wanna interrupt you or make you think that she doesn’t trust you because she does, she just doesn’t trust other people. so she’d just come by and give you a quick kiss on the cheek, or she’ll pass behind you and rub her hands up and down your arms real quick and even the smallest gesture gives you butterflies every time.
and if god forbid someone actually puts their hands on you, mmmmmm she is not happy. not happy at all. she doesn’t care if you hug and kiss your friends on the cheek to greet them obviously, she’s not a psycho control freak, but you’re super touchy feely when you’re drunk and she really hates watching you all over other people once you’re a few shots in. all of it is completely innocent and platonic and of course she knows that but it still bothers her for sure. she wouldn’t necessarily get mad at you or your friends, just annoyed in general.
and she’d definitely make sure you knew that when you two got home … safe to say no one in the entire neighborhood would be wondering who’s fucking you every night.
“who’s the only one that can fuck you this good, huh?” “fuck ellie YOU, only you” “yeah that’s what I thought”
“this is mine, yeah? no one else gets to touch you like this.”
“mine” kiss on one titty “mine” kiss on the other “mine” hand on your pussy “okay???”
if that night you’d been extra touchy with your friends on purpose to get a reaction out of her, it would be blatantly obvious to ellie and she would make sure you knew that later too
“god such a fucking slut just throwing yourself at everybody. are you not embarrassed??”
i want jealous ellie to take her anger out on me :,(((
xoxo,
a ;)
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miinatozakiii · 2 months
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minatozaki sana x fem!reader ; fluff(?)
synopsis: you find yourself with the girl you hate the most, she's drunk, bitchy, yet effortlessly eye-catching even as she insults you. 
warnings: cursing ; alcohol ; not proofread
a/n: hey... hi! surprise!!
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the thumping bass of the music downstairs reverberated through the walls, but in the secluded room upstairs, it was muffled, distant. in this quiet corner, away from the chaos of the party, and sana joined you, settling on the floor with a weariness that mirrored your own. 
“you fucking piss me off, you know?” sana scoffs, slurring her words and failing to keep her attention on on place. “you bitch.” 
“oh shut the fuck up, who’s the one calling me fresh meat? easy to bait? and whatever else you’ve said about me.” you retort, holding a cup of water up to her lips. “drink, shouldn’t be hard since it’s the only thing you’ve been doing all fucking night.” 
leaning her head against the doorframe, sana looked tired, her features bathed in the soft glow of the lamp. you could just barely see her flushed cheeks and the bridge of her nose, accentuating the subtle curve of her plump, parted lips. her eyes, heavy-lidded with fatigue, held a strange warmth as they met yours in the soft illumination.  
you hadn’t had anything to drink, so you can’t blame the alcohol for the spike of your heart beat or the sudden warmth in your cheeks. it was probably the adrenaline from the house party, it had to be because the last person that should be holding your attention captive right now is minatozaki sana. you'll blame the adrenaline for your lingering gaze and the way you subtly admire her face. 
sana's expression twisted into a grimace as she lifted the red plastic cup to her lips. with a sloppy motion, she took a slow sip, the liquid inside trickling down her throat. holding the cup in her hands, she seemed almost childlike, as if she had just come back from running all over the playground. something like that. 
“can you just... go. your face pisses me off.” sana mumbles, opening her eyes a little more just to narrow them again at you. “you piss me off.” 
“yeah? i think i got the hint. you've said that like, five times already in the past minute, including when i helped you up the stairs.” 
 sana groans, putting her palm to her head and sighing. she's absolutely wrecked, she has to be after downing three shots of straight vodka and that nasty beer in the cooler. 
none of her friends had helped her out, and even though she had talked shit about you and been a bitch to you for most of the time you’ve known her – you couldn’t just leave her alone while she’s drunk and groggy.  
“i’m taking you home.” 
“says who?” 
“me, so shut up for once or you’ll find yourself awake tomorrow on the floor and hungover in someones house.”  
sana remained silent, her body melting into the material behind her as she found a moment of reprieve. with the cup still cradled delicately in her hands, she brought it to her lips once more, sipping the water with deliberate slowness. as she swallowed, a contented sigh escaped her lips, a small drop of water lingering at the corner of her mouth. 
your eyes darted to the droplet, a curse escaping your lips as you moved instinctively to wipe it away. with a quick motion, your thumb brushed against her skin, capturing the droplet before it could slip further down her chin.  
“you’re a fucking mess.” you groan. 
sana's intense gaze locked onto yours, her eyes burning with an intensity that seemed to pierce through your very soul. the proximity between you felt almost suffocating, with only inches separating your bodies. your hand pulled away as you sensed her closeness, a flush of embarrassment colored your cheeks.  
sana's gaze flickered down to your lips, her jaw tightening imperceptibly before meeting your eyes once more.  
the world seemed to stand still, the only sound that registered in your ears – despite the bass ringing from downstairs – was the thud of your heartbeat echoing in your ears.  
“why are you still taking care of me?” sana groans, turning her head so she can push herself into the material behind her even more. “just leave me alone...” 
“your little friend group either found someone to fuck or completely abandoned your ass, and i actually have morals. i couldn’t just... leave you there.” you respond, feeling yourself grow bashful. you sigh, looking at sana’s state before grabbing her cup and helping her up.  
your hand instinctively found its way to sana's waist, providing support to keep her upright as you guided her towards the door. with a gentle touch, you steadied her, feeling the warmth of her body against your palm. as you opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, sana's mumbling reached your ears, the words failed to register in your mind. complete gibberish was being uttered, but it was better than an insult. 
in her drunked state, sana leaned into you, her lips dangerously close to your neck. you could feel the heat of her breath against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as you braced yourself before going down the stairs. with each step, the proximity between you seemed to intensify as she weakly tried to tighten her hold around your neck.  
but even as you focused on maintaining your balance and guiding sana safely downstairs, the proximity between you stirred something puzzling. in that fleeting moment, as you finally reached the main floor of the house, the world around you faded into insignificance.  
"hey, wait... you’re slipping away, y/n, don’t leave," sana's voice pierced through the fog of the party, the unexpected emotion catching you off guard. it was a side of sana you hadn't seen before, vulnerable and raw, and it pulled at your heart strings.  
her words were sincere, devoid of the usual sharpness that characterized her tone. instead, there was a longing in her voice, a desperate plea for your presence that left you feeling disoriented.  
"i’m sorry for saying your face pisses me off, it— it doesn’t, it just, you’re so pretty and— please don’t leave me here, it’s so loud...” 
sana's confession hung in the air, leaving you with a mixture of confusion and warmth. was she being genuine in her apology and compliment, or was it just the alcohol talking? it was hard to decipher, and the uncertainty left you feeling perplexed. 
as you stood there with sana in your arm, you couldn't help but tighten your hold on her, a silent promise that you wouldn't leave her side. 
"sana, hey," you began, your voice soft and gentle. "i'm here, we're just a couple steps from the door. i won't leave you." 
the corners of your lips tugged up, a reassuring smile spreading across your face, genuine and unguarded. it was the first time you had smiled at sana, a rare moment of warmth breaking through the tension between you. for once, she wasn't the insufferable, sharp-tongued prick that she usually was. instead, she was vulnerable, you could get used to this, 
sana paused, her lips parting slightly as she gazed at you, mesmerized by the sight before her. in that moment, her mind was a whirlwind of confusion and uncertainty, despite this—one thing became clear: she wanted to see that grin of yours again and again. maybe she’d let go of a bitchy facade, it wouldn’t hurt to throw one less insult your way. 
getting out of the house wasn't too difficult, but maneuvering past the couple making out in the doorway was definitely a challenge. sana clung to you tightly as you navigated through the crowded area, murmuring something – what had she been saying? hell, you couldn’t make out any of it – until the two of you had fully made it down to the sidewalk. 
as you reached the car, sana's grip on you tightened, her words a jumble of unintelligible syllables. despite the difficulty in deciphering her drunken words, you managed to open the door to the passenger side, guiding her inside with gentle persistence. 
once seated, sana squirmed in her seat, making it a challenge to fasten her seatbelt. after pushing the seat back for her and earning more space to maneuver, you managed to secure the buckle, before slipping into the driver's seat and starting the engine. 
as you drove, sana watched your every move with a squinty, curious look, her gaze unwavering despite the haze of alcohol clouding her senses. it was as if she was trying to piece together the puzzle of your actions, her eyes reflecting a mixture of fascination and befuddlement. despite the jumbled circumstances, there was a sense of intimacy in the way she observed you. 
“what’s your address?” you ask, turning to her and raising a brow. she stays silent, eyes threatening to close.  
you scoff, shaking your head out of frustration because the lenience towards your daily hassle is starting to run low. swiftly, you grab her face lightly, squishing her cheeks in between your fingers subtly to sober her up the best you can. sana's cheeks flush, and it’s not the alcohol fucking her up that’s making it happen. 
“i hate drunk people like you, so goddamn incompetent.” you sigh, watching her eyes widen slightly. “as if you weren’t already a pain in the ass.” 
sana furrows her brows, pouting and turning away from you before crossing her arms.  
“you’re so mean.” she whines, turning her body towards the window on her side. 
“you’re saying that to me?” you question, raising your brows out of pure disbelief. “i could write a list of shit you’ve had to say—” 
“i say things all the time, just take me home, you talk so fucking much.” sana groans, closing her eyes. “i live in the apartment closest to the shopping center in northside.” 
dealing with this intoxicated version of sana was testing your patience more than her usual, sober self ever did. her pouty and moody demeanor grated on your nerves, pushing you to the brink of simply cursing her out. despite the annoyance, you couldn't deny the inexplicable pull she had on you.  
as you drove, her squirming and murmuring only added to your exasperation, but beneath the surface irritation, there was an undeniable attraction simmering. it was infuriating how her drunken antics somehow made her even cuter, despite your best efforts to resist. her poutiness and moodiness, while frustrating, held a hint of vulnerability that made it easier to tolerate her. as much as you hated to admit it, there was a small part of you that found it endearing, a flicker of affection that you couldn't quite ignore.  
just a little bit cute, that’s all she was right now, even as you fought against the growing attraction. it was a terrible predicament to be in, but as you stole glances at her from the corner of your eye, you couldn't help but feel drawn to her in a way that defied literally everything that you’ve felt about her before. 
(though, you’ve always found her attractive, it’s that personality of hers that made you want to throw something at her.) 
it was terrible, this whole situation. she’s being a prick – nothing new – yet she looks adorable.  
half of the car ride was filled with stupid sighs and incoherent rambles coming from the drowsy, intoxicated woman to your right. ten minutes pass and you’re parked in front of what you think is sana’s apartment complex.  
you help her out and she clings onto you again, temporarily getting rid of your irritation.  
“second floor, 203.” she says, holding you closer than before. 
you've been in this situation countless of times, being friends with touchy, emotional men who find themselves calling you at the ungodly hours of night every weekend with lazy, drunken voices. however, sana makes you laugh with this sudden affection. the only thing your male friends have made you feel is angry and irritated, but you’d rather have those assholes survive the night instead of outside and vulnerable. 
"sana," you mutter, realizing it would be a hassle to walk her all the way to her place, "just... hang on." with a sigh, you gently pry her clinging arms off you, before crouching down slightly. "get on my back, it'll be faster." 
sana hums in confusion, her drunken haze making comprehension a bit slow. but with a tilt of your head and patient urging, she finally gets the message. slowly, she clambers onto your back, wrapping her arms around your neck and resting her head on your shoulder as she piggybacks you. she’s closer than before, close enough that you can smell the mix of alcohol and vanilla coming from her.  
"you're strong," she mumbles, her voice slurred. 
"you're not heavy, sana," you chuckle, surprising yourself with how amused you are by the situation.  
sana really isn’t heavy, making it easier for you to walk up the stairs despite a whole woman being on your back. you reach the second floor and look for her room number, 203, and let out a small breath of relief once you reach it.  
you try to get her off your back, but she simply clings on tighter with each attempt.  
“no, this is fun, i have the code, just press.” sana mutters into your ear, “1019.”  
rolling your eyes at sana's whining, you punch in the code and the door unlocks with a soft click. with a sigh of relief, you turn the knob and let yourselves in, flicking on the lights to illuminate the dimly lit apartment. your gaze immediately falls on the couch across the room, and you guide sana over to it, ignoring her protests. 
once she's settled on the couch – although not without more grumbling – you stride over to the nearby fridge. opening it, you grab a bottle of water. with water in hand, you return to sana's side, gently coaxing her to drink a little more. 
"come on, sana, it'll help you feel better," you urge, holding the bottle to her lips and tipping it slightly. despite her reluctance, you manage to get her to take a few sips. “lightweight.” you say under your breath. 
after you wipe away at the water that managed to spill out the corner of her lips, she groggily says, “i’m so tired.”  
“then sleep, you’re home.” 
“will you leave me if i do?” 
looking at her in surprise, you respond, “what?” 
sana lays down on the couch, her cheek smushed against a pillow, a soft sigh escaping her lips. 
"why don't you stay?" she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. 
you chuckle softly at her suggestion, shaking your head in amusement. "you'd kill me in the morning. i don't know if you're aware of this right now, minatozaki, but you fucking hate my guts." 
with a wistful smile, you glance around the room, your eyes landing on a cozy-looking blanket draped over the back of the couch. without hesitation, you reach for it and gently drape it over sana -- only covered in her cropped, fit tee and jeans -- ensuring she's comfortable before responding, 
"i wish i knew why," you admit, your voice tinged with a hint of dissapointment. 
sana's response catches you off guard, her words slurred with sleepiness. "i don't. you’re just... too pretty to be interacting with someone like miyeon. she's worse than you." 
miyeon? the mention of your ex-friend only adds to the confusion of the evening, and you can't help but dismiss sana's words as nonsense ramblings brought on by alcohol. 
"you're saying stupid shit right now," you tease gently, a fond smile playing on your lips as you look at her tenderly. 
despite the chaos of the night and the annoyance she's caused you, there's something undeniably endearing about sana in this moment. it's hard to hate her when she's like this, vulnerable and unguarded, and you find yourself softening towards her despite your better judgment. 
as sana closes her eyes and falls into a peaceful silence, you take it as your cue to start leaving. with one last glance at her sleeping form, you quietly make your exit, knowing that it's best to give her the rest she needs to recover from the night's festivities. 
you can't help but feel a warmth spreading through your chest, a feeling that maybe, just maybe, dealing with this intoxicated sana isn't so bad after all—maybe even sober sana. you wouldn’t mind taking care of her again, maybe less bickering, though. maybe she’s not so bad, but you’ll come to a final conclusion later.
probably. 
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buckysegan · 2 months
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With all my gratitude, hope and returned adoration - Part Two
Summary: John writes back to his friend from home and we hear from our friend across the way. John x She. Word Count: 1.2k. A/N: we are def rolling with some historical inaccuracies in regards to letters here but sue me. he deserves it. pstttt also should we name her? do you all want to send me random john prompts. my baby isn't ok and i'm not ok. Part one linked here. Part three linked here.
John was sure he wasn't sweating a normal amount as he looked down at the piece of paper that Buck had offered him. It had taken two whole days of questions from the man for Bucky to even decide that he was going to reply. He’d been offered the hope, what more could he ask of her. Could he ask more? There had been a return address on the letter which Buck had insisted was there for a reason and she had opened herself out for a reply from him but the Major couldn’t help but be unsure.
It was an odd feeling for him, before the war he hadn't been unsure of anything and since he’d been here? Well he hadn’t been sober enough to doubt anything that he had done. These days though Bucky felt like he doubted every single thing. The thing was, he wasn't sure that he could afford to doubt this, to look past the life line that had been offered to him. Not when each day he could feel his mind draw a little further toward the edge no matter how much he or Buck tried to keep it in check.
With a sigh he pulled the pen into his hand, eyes locked on the page for a moment before he began to scrawl.
Dear Friend From Home 
You’re gunna have to forgive me because I ain’t going to be as good as this as you are. I’ve written so many letters this war you would think that I’d have gotten a handle on it by now but I find myself at a loss when it comes to what to say to you. 
I think the first thing I got to say is thank you. I don’t know if the words I can put on paper are ever going to really tell you how much your letter meant to me. See I was a certain type of man that didn’t think much to pen pals. I figured that I’d be ok, you know, that with my boys I’d have what I needed to make it through the hard days but watching the letters for everyone else roll in has been harder than I thought it might. 
There are things that I can’t tell you cause I don’t know who might read these letters, and where I am I can’t get you no picture but I can tell you that my favorite dish is a meat and potato pie, simple I know but really I’m a simple hearty kind of guy. What makes me laugh, you asked? That’s kind of simple for me too, just good company, myself sometimes, Buck, he’s my best friend, he makes me laugh a lot. What makes you laugh? I’d like to know that. 
May I know where you are? I know that might be a big ask but you said I could ask anything I know and if I get out of here…we get some leave, I’d like to know where I need to ask for me leave to be. Then I can show you what I sound and look like and know that in return. 
If this letter doesn’t reach you for a while, know you’ve been with me the whole time. 
With all my gratitude, hope and returned adoration
Major John Egan 
“What if she doesn’t get it?” He found himself questioning quietly to Buck as he handed over the letter to make it out of camp. His best friend settled him with a soft look, one that always made Bucky feel like he had some worldly knowledge the rest of them had missed out on, that assured him everything was going to be alright. “You just gotta have hope she will John, she’ll get it.” 
With a huff Bucky nodded, pulling his hat on as he watched his letter vanish from his view all together. “Alright well I can’t sit here and wonder, I’m off to play baseball or something.”
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The letter that Bucky had so carefully handed over changed hands many more times, some fingers as rough as the pilots, some dirtier, some softer, but the last set of fingers to slide the letter from her post box had perfectly manicured fingers. Her flicking of her post was greedy as she looked for the same thing that she had every day since she’d posted her own letter.
At first, her hopes of finding what she was looking for had been unrealistic; she knew that, it hadn’t even been long enough for her letter to be received, let alone for him to get one back to her, then the other girls at the centre, they’d gotten letters back, notes, anything. That was when she had allowed her hope to return, for a moment at least. Days without anything had turned into weeks and then weeks had turned into months. Anything could have happened, that was what she tried to tell herself, he might not have gotten her letter, he might have thought it was weird and had chosen not to reply. That thought was enough to miff her, he could have at least said thank you. When she had decided no one could be that mean, her diminishing hope had turned to worry, what if he hadn't been able to receive her letter.
Flicking through each white envelope today, she almost missed it, how she didn't know because it was clearly different from the rest of them, maybe she hadn't wanted to look. "Not…" Trailing off she flicked back to the second to last letter, her eyes taking in the scrawling of her address, her eyes checking the postage before she was taring inside. "It's here, he wrote it's here." She called through the halls to the other girls that she lived with, all of which had been holding their breath with her. "Oh god I can't read it, what if he's telling me I was weird!" She cried, thrusting the unopened letter into the hands of her eager friend.
"Don't be dramatic, he's going to be throwing down his gratitude at you being a doll, you should have attached a picture with it I told you!" Meg beamed easily back at her, the same sense of reservation missing from her actions as she tore into the letter so that it could be read to the group. "Dear Friend From Home. You’re gunna have to forgive me because I ain’t going to be as good as this as you are. I’ve written so many letters this war you would think that I’d have gotten a handle on it by now but I find myself at a loss when it comes to what to say to you." That was enough, pulling the letter from Megs hands she was quick to scramble away from the group once more, locking herself into her room as re-read the opening line herself, the tears in her eyes only welling even further as she continued.
An ache in her chest formed as she read the words once more, taking in each strike of his pen where he had corrected himself or smudge from whatever he'd had on his fingers. The state of the letter was enough to make her wonder, but at least for now, she knew her friend was ok. He was alive, and he wanted to hear more from her. It couldn't have been normal, to feel this level of emotion for a man that she had never met, but she had found herself here regardless and in the middle of so much uncertainty, she wasn't going to question the pull she felt across the way to England.
Pushing from her bed she moved to her desk, paper pulled from her stationary pot, the quicker she could post this the quicker it could get to him.
"Dear Major Egan,
I'm delighted to hear I'm with you. I hope you know, that you've been with me too…"
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harleehazbinfics · 1 month
Text
Cannibal Overlord!Reader [Cannibal Chef!Reader Spin-off!]
Cannibal chef! reader m.list | Author profile
a/n: I've seen a few fics about reader owning Alastor's soul, so I'm gonna put my own spin on it in Cannibal Chef. >:]
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"Madam, the table is ready."
"Oh, thank you Alastor!" You groan, leaning against your chair clutching your aching head.
"These demons can't do anything right!" you roared slamming your fist down on the table sending papers flying, which Alastor calmly collected and places back on the table.
He smiles and waits for you to stand. On your own two feet, you latch onto him and whined, "You won't leave me won't you, Alastor? I'd hate for my most important and capable person to leave!"
"I wouldn't dare think of it, Madam," he replies as he covers your hand with his as he guides you to the dinner table, where several plates of food you loved was presented so fancily. You gushed at the food, and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before sitting down and tasting a few pieces of everything.
Alastor recovers from your affectionate gesture and pushes your chair in and drapes a napkin over you to not soil your clothes that he meticulously picked.
This was (Y/n), one of the most powerful overlords who reigned over Pentagram City. She controls quite a number of souls from decades of ruling. They say she manifested in hell, seemingly overnight, toppling overlords who were once held an iron grip over the denizens of hell. Tall tales were spread about your fearsome power and your signature cleaver. After establishing your position, you opened a meat shop and restaurant. Cannibal and non-cannibal options of course. You were crazy, but you had class, okay?
Many are frightened at just the thought of you alone, some sinners say that all demons that crossed you would end up on their plate. To set a clear stance what would happen if they dared question her power.
"Oh, Calastor! Good morning, my love! Did you have a good nap?" you ask picking up the red cat who gave you kitten licks on your face.
However, all Alastor could see was a very cheerful and clumsy woman. He recalls the first time he met you. He was roaming and analyzing where he was and how the power was at play arriving here shortly in hell. Unexpectedly, he got caught in a crossfire between you and large dinosaur like demon. When he saw you transform into your larger demon form, he was mesmerized at such power. You didn't hesitate for a second to go for the kill.
After capturing the dinosaur demon and keeping him in your inventory to make a meal out of later. He failed to dodge the hand that grabbed him and pulled him closer to your face.
"And who might you be?" you asked sultrily with a dissonant voice that overlapped with each other making him gulp at the wonders it was doing for his body to react a certain way towards the sound.
"Alastor, Madam. Pleasure to be meeting you!" he replies with his usual transatlantic tone, keeping composure despite seconds away from being crushed in your hand.
You smile and replied, "You're polite, how cute. You wouldn't mind if I keep you right?"
Without even a chance to reply, you return to your castle where you changed him into a butler uniform and bombarded him with your troubles and how you were so lonely that no one wanted to be friends with you. So, when you saw him ogling you, you couldn't help but keep him to yourself. You couldn't bear the thought of someone else picking him up other than you.
Alastor, in all his years, didn't once try to escape despite his situation. Sure, it was peculiar and sudden, but he never once felt uncomfortable in his setting. On the contrary, he felt very much at home with you, and even accepting your affectionate gestures.
A few pecks on the lips, cheek and neck wasn't disgusting when it was from you. He enjoyed your warm hugs where you'd eventually fall asleep on him and have him take you to your room. Only for you to pout and pull him on the bed with you and sleep with him.
He just couldn't say no to you. After all. He did love you. He was yours, as you were his.
IM TAKING ASKS FOR THIS ONE TOO
🔗Cannibal Chef! Reader TAGLIST:
@bonnie-02, @marxo5, @whaatttlaufey, @froggybich, @rybunnie, @midorichoco, @lucifers-silhouette, @kimmis-stuff, @bontensbabygirl, @janey, @akiqvq, @wonderlandangelsposts, @spoiled-slutt, @roboticsuccubus83, @atlas-rin, @yuriohoe04, @azullynxx, @milk-bulb, @rainynyy, @s2tng, @aria-tempest, @speedycoffeedelight, @0strawberrysorbet0, @amitiel-truth, @corvid007, @kaminarithebest, @enby-goblin
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queers-gambit · 4 months
Text
Campus Breakdown
prompt: ( requested ) after a hard day, at least you can come home to him.
pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader
fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear
word count: 1.6k+
warnings: reader's a graduate student, cursing, small angst but mostly small hurt bigger comfort.
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The door slammed shut in a forceful rattle, making Carmy perk up from his place on the couch. "Baby?" He called, setting aside the magazine you left behind.
"Carmy?" You sounded confused, exiting the foyer to round into the living room. "Hey, what're you doing home so early?"
"Uh, pipe burst at work, left Fak t'deal with it," he sniffled, muting the television. "What's up with you? Or do you always slam doors happily around here?"
You sighed, "Sorry, I just - it's been a day and a half, you know?"
He pouted dramatically, offering, "Wanna tell me 'bout it?"
"It won't fix what happened."
"No, but it might help get it off your chest, filter a little emotion."
You nodded absently, "I think I might want a glass of wine first - maybe two."
He felt a surge of empathy in his chest, knowing that distant look in your eyes and the way your entire demeanor seemed absent, distracted, exhausted. Work often kicked his ass, too, so there was an understanding after so many nights you had let him rant and rave about whatever went wrong - it was only right to return the favor.
Carmy readjusted the pillows and coffee table, leaning over to light the scented candle you kept there; grabbing a blanket to prepare for you. When you entered the living room, you had stripped out of your pants and was pouring a glass of wine, leaving the bottle on the cleaned-up coffee table; sighing when you dropped onto the couch.
"All right, pretty girl," Carmy chuckled, pulling your feet into his lap. You readjusted with a small grumble as Carmy then tossed the blanket over you, but left your feet out for him to massage. "Tell me what happened today."
You held up a single finger, downing more than half your glass of wine. Carm's brows perked up, blinking in shock before nodding slowly when you swallowed. "Today. Fucking. Sucked," you told him.
"I can see that, and feel it - your feet are knotted," he noted, working his thumbs into the meat. "Did you sit down at all today?"
"Well, no, 'cause I had to work alone today," you groaned. "Lisa has mono, Brittany had to make up some exam, Benjamin apparently had a meeting with the bursar's office, and Stacy literally stood outside, fighting with her boyfriend - like what!?"
Carmy offered you a stale look in reaction to your story, "She get docked?"
"Well, yeah, I mean, I kinda had to; she didn't bus a single table, she didn't talk to a single customer, like, the only other person working with me today was Carl and he was in the kitchen the whole time."
"Doesn't sound exactly fair..."
"It's a shitty campus diner, Carmy, 'fair' isn't exactly in their vocabulary, but the tips are semi decent 'cause we have that 'drunk rush special'. Oh! Wait! That's not all," you hummed, taking another gulp. "'Cause why would anything go right on a day I worked the entire floor alone? Right?"
"What else?" He asked, turning in his seat so he could face you directly; still massaging your feet, but leaning his cheek on your bent knee to remain close.
"The fucking register went down."
"You mean the only one in the whole place?"
"Yep, of course! 'Cause why the fuck wouldn't anything go right?" You scoffed. "And it's not like any of this was, like, hidden, you know? It was very obvious I was working alone, the register was fucked, but do you think that made anyone empathetic towards the situation? No, of course not, they wanted to just pay their bills and leave. Which I fucking get! But like, what!?"
"What'd you do?"
"Took cash only," you shrugged. "ATM was still up and running, so it was on them," you wiped you eyes, sighing deeply. "Still bitched the whole time though, complained to whoever listened. End of the night, that new manager even docked my tips, you believe that?"
"Hold up - for what?" Carm snapped.
"Customers were that pissed, Carmy, so a few of them dined-and-dashed, someone had to pay," you whined, head tilted back. "Like I did any of this on purpose? Like I went and unplugged shit myself? Like I wanted to make my life significantly harder? Do people even fucking think by themselves now? Where's the empathy?"
"Nah, they definitely lack in that department," he chuckled. "Know what I'm gonna say, right?"
"Hmm? Oh, Carmy, no," you groaned, "I'm not working at The Beef."
"It's ten times better than where you work, baby," he pouted. "And I could use someone with experience like yours with the customers. Richie's not always the best 'face of the store', you know?"
"No, Carmy," you refused sternly.
"C'mon, why not?"
"You as my boss? And boyfriend? Fuck no!"
"I'm literally so nice!"
"Yeah, that's exactly what Sydney says," you laughed, nudging his stomach with your foot. "Baby, no. Listen, I appreciate it, I really do, but I get ten times the tips at that shitty diner than I would at The Beef, and it's right on campus so I lose literally no time."
He sighed, "You're only, what? A year out from your Masters?"
"Just about," you grumbled with a pout.
Carmy chuckled, "C'mon, baby, don't torture yourself. Get a new job."
"I'm not, I'm just - " You cut yourself off with a sigh, hating that advice (as if it were just so simple), shaking your head and finishing your wine. "I'm just dealing with my current circumstances, I'm sorry I came home in a bad mood - "
"No, hey, wait," Carmy sat up, reaching for your cheek to hold, "I didn't mean to make you feel as if I was shutting you down. Baby, I always want you t'talk to me, okay? I just mean, there's something better out there, and you deserve better than that place. I hate seeing you so stressed out," he pouted dramatically, making you snicker lightly.
"You're one to talk," you reminded softly, sitting up so you could nestle under his arm. "You're stressed out, like, more than 90% of the time."
"Hey now, we're talkin' about your day, not mine," he deflected with a small chuckle. "What if I asked around a bit? You know, a different server job? I can check out places close to campus, but you'd get much better tips and better customers at a nicer place."
You groaned, "Now that sounds nice." He chuckled with you now. "I mean, it's bad enough I have to deal with those creepy frat boys in class, but in the diner, I have to play nice 'cause they tip with daddy's money well if I don't shut them up. It'd be nice working somewhere they couldn't even afford t'walk into."
"See? I'm good for something."
"You're good for everything, Carm, shut up," you laughed, leaning up to kiss his jawline. "I'm just tired of this whole 'pay your dues' bullshit. You know? I get having to suffer a little to build a better character, but for fuck's sake."
Carmy pouted, "Sounds like a second glass of wine kinda rant?"
You pouted back at him, nodding, both mockingly making little noises as he lifted from his sitting position to snag the bottle of wine. You smiled as he poured, watching his face, loving the effect he had on you; feeling calm and serene, and it wasn't the alcohol. When the bottle was set aside again, he tugged your legs over his lap and laid one of his arms around your shoulders; keeping you snuggled close and under the blanket.
"What else happened?" He asked softly, kissing your temple.
"I don't want to sound like I'm just bitching."
"How else do you expect to blow off steam? Huh?" He countered. "You're not bothering me, I want to hear this, baby - all of it. So, lemme recount, yeah? Okay, so, you worked alone your whole shift with only the frycook in the back, the cash register went down, and that made a buncha customers all pissed off. Enough that a few dipped off and you had to cover their bills. But the ATM was good, so they could still pay cash, but they were still being dickheads, yeah?"
"Mhm," you hummed, halting yourself.
"Nuh-uh, c'mon, what else?"
Tears sprung to your eyes as your head lulled onto his shoulder. "It was just a really shitty day, Carm," you whispered, giving a small sniffle. "Guys are grimy and gross, they garnished my wages 'cause of those dashers - I told you. It was a fucking shit show! Oh, and a few bulbs blew all within 10 minutes of each other - like fully snap, crackle, and pop, blew out. So, I had to call the electrician, he took over 2 hours to get there, so, part of the back dining room was darker and this group of guys all decided to sit back there - it was so fucking creepy!"
Carmen frowned, listening to you rant and rave about how overworked and under appreciated you were. He held you tight, raking a hand through your hair, tracing invisible patterns on your upper arm; keeping you close as the wine slowly sunk into your blood. You grew less lucid by the passing hour, mostly the exhaustion sinking in, but Carmy didn't mind.
He just adjusted you both on the couch so he was laid out with you safely tucked between the cushions and his body. You had long since changed subjects; going from shitty work conditions to sports to your coursework load, then to The Beef, breezed over whatever Richie's daily attitude was about, then quietly debated if Carmy was taking the weekend off to spend it with you. Now, the TV was the only light on in the apartment, wine bottle empty, you resting on Carmy's chest; his arms tight around you, blanket tangled around your legs, both speaking quietly into the night before sleep claimed you both.
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requesting rules and masterlist
The Bear masterlist
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gayerthanevertbh · 11 months
Text
morning shenanigans.
pairings: natasha romanoff x fem!reader
n.r masterlist | navigation | n.r one-shots masterlist
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summary: you and natasha spent the morning making “love” while other people were awake. 
warnings: rough sex, dirty talking, daddy kink, natasha being a little needy, pet names (sweetheart, slut, whore, etc), talks about anal sex, and more - 18+ MINORS DNI.
author’s note: just a little fic in my head that i wrote lol enjoy cx
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“Natasha, oh my god!”
You clutched the headboard as Natasha rutted into you, grunting and panting above you like a hungry animal devouring its prey. She had her eyes closed and was moaning every time your cunt clenched on her meaty length, making it even more difficult for her not to come so soon. She flutters her eyes open as she kisses your lips hard and sloppily, spitting into your mouth as if she wanted you to be in her forever.
"Jesus Christ," she sighs, rolling her hips each time her cockhead brushes against your cervix. “You’re so tight for me, fuck! Oh god–”
“Quiet, Henry might hear us–”
"He's probably asleep," the older woman above you mutters as she feels your inner walls squeezing her cock once more, causing her to roll her eyes in the back of her head. "You're squeezing me too tightly, baby girl."
You smirk at her, clawing her ass as you let her go deeper inside of you.
“You don’t like that, Daddy?”
“Who said I didn't like it?” she growls, licking a stripe from her neck as she continues to cling to you, grabbing your hips. “You like this, don’t you? Do you like it when Daddy fucks you like this?”
You whimpered out loud, turning your gaze to the door, apprehensive that your child would burst into your room if he saw your girlfriend fucking you into oblivion.
“Baby, look at me,” she says softly, her hand gripping your jaw as she kisses your lips. “That’s it, you’re doing so good angel…” she pulls out of your pussy, leaving only her cockhead inside your walls as she wraps her hand around her meat and slowly pumps herself, looking down at you hungrily.
“D-Daddy,” you whimpered, attempting to roll her hips so that her entire length could slip into you. “Please fuck me... Fuck me good. I want you to go deep inside of me and fill me up.”
“Yeah?” she asks, her other hand squeezing your right breast and tweaking your nipple as you whine quietly. “You like this, baby? Hm? Gonna ruin your fucking pussy for everyone else, okay? Stay quiet and be pretty for me, little girl.”
Natasha pushed her penis all the way inside of you again, the bed creaking as she pounded into you hard, her mouth on your chest, open-mouth kisses on the middle of your cleavage. She moves her hands all over your back, thrusting her cock in and out until you feel yourself losing control and falling into euphoria.
“I need you so much,” she begs, peppering her lips all over your collarbone. “Y-You make me want to bust my nut into you, make you my breeding bitch. Tell me, you want to be bred like a little whore, huh? Come on.”
Natasha's hips snap back into you, pulling out before pumping herself back in. She looks down, watching her cock slip inside of you so easily that she might mistake you for no longer being tight. But you've always been so tight on her, so desperate for her penis, that she can go hard whenever she sees you. The older redhead returns her gaze to you and smirks, unconcerned that the neighbors might hear them banging each other's heads together.
"Good girl," she grunted, closing your mouth as she lifted your other leg, her cock effortlessly slipping inside of you. She draws back, seeing your juices coat her long limbs. "Do you like my big cock, sweetheart?" "You like Daddy's big cock?"
“Mhm!” you bit your bottom lip as her hips rolled back into you, causing the bed to groan once again. “Nat, Henry might-”
“Just be quiet, baby. H-he won't hear anything,” she mumbles as she gives you a gentle kiss. “You're making Daddy feel so good, God. I feel you all over my dick, fuck…”
Natasha's tip was mercilessly slamming into your sensitive spot, and your whines and moans could be heard throughout the room - you couldn't help yourself, she was too excellent at this. She was too adept at making you feel as if you were in oblivion or paradise. Her growls get louder as both of your wet skins slap together, filling up the room to the point that you could assume someone could hear you from outside.
“You're such an obedient little slut,” she moaned above you, her tongue brushing over your nipple. “Do you enjoy being fucked by me? Do you enjoy being my naughty little girl?”
“Uh-huh,” you moaned in return, nodding vigorously. “Please, go hard, please-”
“Telling me what to do right now, hm?” she groans into your neck, jackhammering her hips into you. She spreads your legs widely with her knees, allowing herself to fuck you without a care in the world.
“Feels good?” she asks while panting, her breasts bouncing each time she ruts into you. You couldn't resist sucking one of her nipples, causing her to hiss. “Oh fuck–shit, oh god… that feels so good–”
“Are you close?” you asked, whining as you felt her cock hump into you and her arms tighten around you. “Daddy, cum in me–”
“I'm here, baby… oh fuck,” she moans aloud, sucking on your neck to the point of bruising. She continues to pound into you until she stops her hips, balls deep inside of you. “I'm going to cum, I'm going... Oh, shit!”
She stills her hips and releases massive amounts of sperm into you, her ass twitching as she releases her thick, white milk into you, her mouth all over your chest. You ran your fingers through her short brunette hair, gripping it tightly as you went around her length. She yanked out quickly, splattering more thick cum all over your pussy lips - she smiled.
"D-Did you like that?" she asks, her gaze fixed on your pussy clench. She couldn't help but grab her tip and spread the cum all over your folds, repeatedly slapping the head on your clit. This gesture made you flutter your eyes closed. “Fuck, baby. I just gave you a creampie.”
“Yeah…” you sighed, your eyes closed, as you felt Natasha's cum oozing out of your hole, causing her to chuckle deeply. “Happy now?”
“That I came in you? Yes,” she said as she stood up in her loose gray boxers, an obvious tent in her undergarment. “What is it?” asks the older woman, turning her head over her shoulder.
“I feel like Henry heard us.”
She snickered and crept back under the covers, clutching you close. “I doubt it. He’s dead asleep, baby.”
“Yeah, I guess–”
A loud bang is heard against the bedroom door. “Mommy? Can you please help me make waffles? I know Mama is still asleep, so please come and help me.”
You laughed softly as you rolled out of bed, teasing Natasha with your bare ass. “I want to bite your ass,” she said quietly.
“You could do that later, my love.” you brushed your hair away from your sweaty face while wearing shorts.
Natasha was allowing herself some free time by staying at your apartment for a short time while she was away from the compound. You had to inform the older woman you had a son when you first met her. You assumed she would resist you because she did not want to be engaged with a single parent. But the moment she heard you say those words, she treated Henry as if he were her own. It was as if you had a new family with her, and you felt entirely whole again.
She stood up when she heard your mother calling from the other side of the room. She kisses your left cheek while brushing her hair off her brow and wearing sweatpants.
"Can I also cum in your ass?" she asked with a whine. “Please, baby girl? Please? Come on, it’ll fit.”
You give your girlfriend a wink as you leave the room, the sperm in your cunt still leaking from its hole. Oh well, you thought. I’ll fix that later.
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um.
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